Chapter of Insurgent (the actual book): 5

Disclaimer: I don't own the Divergent trilogy or any of the characters

After that night at dinner, Tris and I both go to bed early.

The second my head hits the pillow, I find myself wrapped in a terrible dream.

You see, there is a dream that I usually have, almost every night, really. It is the dream that I chose Abnegation, and was forced to live with Marcus for the rest of my life, and the dream feels like a living Hell. But tonight, the dream changed. Tonight, I was living with Tris.

"This is for your own good, Tobias. You know that, right?" Dream Tris slipped a belt off of her thin waist.

"Tris, wait!" I found myself calling. "This isn't real! This isn't you!"

"This is for your own good," she repeated. She whacked me in the hand with the buckle and I felt my knees give out.

"Don't be a coward, Tobias! Get up!" she scolded, hitting me again. But I didn't get up.

"This isn't you," I whispered. She smiled evilly, in a way that I would never have dreamed Tris would smile, and she morphed into Marcus.

"This is for your own good," he said, and he took the belt full across my back, causing me to cry out in pain.

Yells from the neighbors to keep it down should have tipped me off that this was all a dream, but I couldn't think straight, not with Marcus here.

He took the belt, whipping it harder and harder, over and over again, his black eyes staring into mine.

"This is for your own good."

Suddenly I find my eyes open up to the Amity ceiling. What woke me up from the dream?

I turn to see Tris standing at the door. Part of me wants to jump back, afraid she'll come at me with a belt, but then I really look at her. She stands there, cowering, almost glowing in the regal moonlight. Her eyes are filled with so much fear that I want to leap up and take her in my arms, kiss away all the pain, because this is not the Tris from my dream. Instantly I feel awful for dreaming such a terrible thing.

"C'mere," I say quietly, scooting down, pain filling into my voice as well.

A part of my heart gets overexcited when I realize she isn't wearing any pants, but I tell myself to stop being a teenager.

"Bad dream?" I ask softly.

She nods, tears welling up in her eyes.

"What happened?" I nearly whisper.

She shakes her head vigorously, tears streaming down her cheeks now. I take one of her cheeks in my hand, rubbing my thumb idly in circles.

"We're all right, you know," I say quietly, more reassuring myself than her. "You and me. Okay?"

She takes a deep breath and nods.

"Nothing else is all right," I whisper against her cheek. "But we are."

"Tobias," she whispers, and I feel the nerves creep up my spine.

Whatever she was about to say, evidently she changes her mind, because she presses her lips firmly into mine. I brush my hands down her sides, fitting my mouth to hers. Meaning to stop my hands firmly at her hips, I don't. Instead, they work their way down her legs. She pulls herself closer to me, wrapping her leg around me, and I feel nervousness creeping up into my throat, but I try not to let it show.

I slip my hand carefully under the hem of her shirt, trying not to visibly shake with fear. I'm just as afraid of this as she is, in the end. I hear her let out a faint sigh, and I try to avoid turning pink. My lips move down her neck, my hands running up and down her back. She clutches my t-shirt in her fists, trying not to shake with the same fear.

Then, my fingers brush lightly across the bandage on her shoulder, and I feel her flinch in pain, and I instantly feel guilty. We both stop for a moment, lying tangled in each other's arms.

"Sorry," she whispers, tears beginning to stream faster.

"Don't apologize," I whisper back, wiping the tears as gently as I can bear from her cheeks.

"I don't mean to be such a mess," she says out loud, her voice cracking. "I just feel so…" she shakes her head.

"It's wrong," I say, louder. "It doesn't matter if your parents are in a better place—they aren't here with you, and that's wrong, Tris. It shouldn't have happened. It shouldn't have happened to you. And anyone who tells you it's okay is a liar."

I honestly don't know where that came from. It's not like I value parental care or anything. I mean, my parents weren't exactly the best examples. My dad is a grade A ass hole, and my mom is a coward. But somehow, someday, in a twisted future that is long gone, I would have liked to have had Andrew and Natalie Prior as my in laws, if Tris and I survived that long. They seemed like decent people. Their daughter sure is a decent person. One of the most decent I have ever met.

"Sleep, I whisper, wrapping my arm around her so tight that I doubt she can breathe, but I don't think either of us care. I need the comfort as much as she does. She wraps her arm around my waist. "I'll fight the bad dreams off if they come to get you."

"With what?" she asks curiously.

I could say something really sentimental here, or be honest and tell her I don't know, or start sobbing my heart out with her, but I don't. What I need doesn't matter right now. There will be my time to sob, and that will most likely be the second she leaves my room, but that time isn't now.

"My bare hands, obviously," is all I respond. She smiles softly, and her smile is enough to make me feel all the better. She buries her face in my shoulder and I allow one single tear to fall for Marcus, because he is worth no more than that. She nuzzles her face into my shoulder, and the moment before she falls asleep, I whisper to her.

"I love you, Tris," I say quietly.

She opens her mouth to respond, but she is already asleep.