A/N: Thank you to everyone who has continued to support this story! It has been extremely hard to carve out time to write lately, so I have deeply appreciated your reviews - they have motivated me and cheered me up and generally made life better. :-) Thank you also to the wonderful BK2U, who has been beta reading for me and has helped me to avoid repeating some phrases that I've gotten a little too used to using...

Chapter 6: Tris – Life Journey

Tris remembers all too clearly how her parents felt about Tobias eleven years ago. Their fathers worked together even then, so Andrew's first inclination was to like his coworker's son. But that only lasted until Marcus began dropping hints that Tobias was unstable. That losing his mother had damaged him and caused him to become unpredictable. Violent. Prone to making things up, and blaming Marcus for things beyond his control.

Once Tris learned the truth about that father/son relationship, it made her sick to hear Marcus' lies. There were so many times when she was tempted to just spit out the facts for everyone to hear. She wanted to see the shock on Marcus' face when he had to defend himself – and to see her parents accept the man she loved.

But she never did, and ten years later, it's proving to be far more difficult to say those words than she ever expected. She's only gotten as far as telling Christina, and that conversation was enough to make her not want to repeat it anytime soon.

It's not that her best friend didn't believe her; it's that she went back and questioned everything she knew from high school, and from the intervening years. She asked question after question about why Tobias didn't report his father, and why Tris stayed silent, too, and whether it was too late to do anything now. By the time she was done, Tris was a quivering mass of anxiety and justifications and doubt, wondering just how badly she had failed the wounded seventeen-year-old who had trusted her with his most guarded secret.

Tobias had always said that it would be his word against his father's and that Marcus was an extremely good liar. But even then, Tris didn't entirely believe that was true. There was certainly plenty of physical evidence, given all the scars criss-crossing her boyfriend's back, and surely that would have added weight to Tobias' testimony? But he had adamantly refused to go there, and she had respected his wishes.

Now, that feels like a betrayal – one that haunts her all the more because it's why he left Chicago in the first place. If she had said something, would he have stayed? Would Marcus have been forced to pay for his son's tuition from prison? Or would things have fallen apart even worse, with Tobias struggling between court dates and foster care and rumors until he was dumped on the street at the age of eighteen?

She knows it's a moot point, because she never did anything, but she ponders the thought anyway over their weeks of slow, careful dating. It is, she realizes ruefully, just part of the minefield of issues that seem to separate them.

But despite all of that, she finds herself drawn more and more toward the person Tobias is now. He's more mature these days – strong and self-assured and independent in a way that's extraordinarily appealing. Yet at his core, he's still the same person she loved so much a decade ago.

And they still have the same connection between them: the fiery spark and magnetic draw that she's never felt with anyone else. It scares her more than she wants to admit, and she finds herself being very careful about how much contact she allows between them in an attempt to limit the effect. Given her dreams, she knows that the approach can't work for long, but she hangs onto it, for now anyway. It's the only defense mechanism she has left.

Tonight, though, proves to be particularly difficult. Perhaps it's the way Tobias has cut his hair, reminding her more strongly than ever of their first time around. Or maybe it's the way his smile reaches his eyes as he gives her a single red rose, commemorating the six-week anniversary of their "second first date."

Or it could be the way the top of an unknown tattoo peeks out from the back of his shirt, now that his hair no longer hides it. She finds her gaze drawn to it repeatedly during the course of the evening, as they walk through a beautiful little park she's never explored before. Just what is inked there? And what it would feel like to run her hands over it?

Her curiosity is burning by the time they return to Tobias' apartment, as they've taken to doing after their dates. Tris tells herself that they go there because she still needs to win over his second cat, DC, but she knows it's really because there's much more privacy. They haven't done anything that requires it yet, but she wants that freedom anyway.

"You seem distracted tonight," Tobias comments as he opens his door for her, cocking his head while evaluating her.

A blush rises up her cheeks, because she's yet again in the middle of imagining what's beneath his clothing. "Ummm," she starts, "it's nothing, really."

He raises a disbelieving eyebrow but stays silent as he closes the door behind them, locking it out of habit. They do live in a large city, after all.

"Are you going to let me pet you today?" she asks DC, effectively hiding her face by leaning down and extending a hand toward the tabby. He stares at her with deep distrust, as he always does.

"Well, I certainly won't object if you want to," Tobias quips behind her, his voice vibrating with amusement. "Since I know you're dying to rub my hair now that I cut it." She feels her blush deepen, her lips tugging upwards at the thought of stroking his head – and further down his body.

"I noticed it was shorter," she comments noncommittally as she straightens, her gaze still lingering on DC. At least he isn't hissing or running from her anymore, even if Marvel's friendliness hasn't rubbed off on him yet. "It looks good." A boldness enters her as she faces Tobias again. "I also see that you have a tattoo on your back."

"Ah." He suddenly looks almost shy, his gaze shifting to his feet. "Well, that's not new. I got it a couple of years ago."

She nods, leaning down again, this time running a hand along Marvel's back as he purrs loudly. "What's it of?"

Tobias considers that for a long moment, scratching the back of his neck and debating his words. "It's…my life journey." The side of his mouth quirks. "Which will make a lot more sense when you see it." A slightly apologetic smile touches his face. "It's hard to describe without the visual."

The curiosity that's been plaguing her all night rears up again, and she finds herself saying, "Then…can I see it?" The moment the words are out of her mouth, she thinks better of them, particularly when Tobias freezes in response.

"Are you asking me to undress, Tris?" His tone is unmistakably nervous.

She gives a small laugh, her own anxiety on full display. But there's a stubborn part inside her that always seems to grow braver whenever the rest of her wants to back down. She gives it voice now. "Only partially."

For a moment, their gazes lock, and then he nods very slowly. Turning around so his back is facing her, he grasps the lower part of his shirt. "It starts at the bottom."

She isn't sure what she expects when he starts lifting the material, but it's definitely not the flames that cover the entire lower part of his back, licking upwards and to the sides to engulf his skin in orange and red. Tris reaches out instinctively, running her fingertips along the fire, feeling the scars hidden beneath it.

"This part is for the life I left behind," Tobias begins, his voice a little shaky. "The same day I sent you that letter, I dropped another one in the mail – to my father. I deliberately burned all ties to him so that he would never, ever support me again. That way, I knew I couldn't go back. I was on my own."

She considers that while she continues to trace the flames, knowing that she'll never be able to fully understand how difficult that decision was for Tobias. It must have taken incredible courage to stand up to Marcus, and to turn away from him forever, knowing that it left him utterly on his own at such a young age.

Eventually, her wandering fingers nudge the shirt upwards enough to reveal the next part of the tattoo. Two hands grasp each other, one of them reaching down into the flames as if to pull the other out from the fire into the soothing gray band it rests on. As she runs a fingertip over it, Tobias clears his throat.

"The hands are for selflessness – helping someone else even if it means getting burned." His voice is rough now. "I know that you don't see it this way, but I truly thought I was being selfless when I let you go. I thought that you would move on to better things if I wasn't holding you down."

They're both quiet for a moment as the pain from that thought washes over them. Tris looks down, blinking the moisture away, but she lifts her gaze again when Tobias pulls the shirt higher. A band of sky blue is revealed this time, with a large open eye in the center of it.

"This one is for knowledge – for paying attention and observing and learning." He gives a strangled laugh. "The funny thing about having to pay for your own education is that you never take it for granted. I didn't skip a single class. I focused, and I kept going no matter how hard it got, and I graduated in four years even though I was working more than full-time."

She nods, not sure what to say as her gaze drifts to a series of small green symbols that drape down the outside of the tattoo into the blue. Curious what they represent, she pushes the shirt upwards to see the next part. She finds herself staring at a band of black and white that crosses his back, still dotted with green on the edges. In the center of it sits a pair of unbalanced scales.

"That one is for honesty." He swallows hard before continuing. "I started therapy about three years ago, to come to terms with everything Marcus did to me. It…took me a long time to really open up, but I feel a lot stronger for it." He clears his throat again. "And I don't worry so much now about repeating his mistakes."

Tris' breathing is fast as she reaches out again, tracing her fingers over the scales and remembering how difficult it was for him to reveal the truth to her all those years ago. It must have been even harder to tell a stranger, and she feels incredibly proud of the courage Tobias showed throughout the journey that is portrayed here. There's nothing easy about any of this.

For a few long seconds, he stands still, pressing back slightly into her touch. And then he pulls his shirt the rest of the way off, letting it fall to the floor.

A massive weeping willow extends up from the black and white band, its green leaves covering the entire upper portion of his back, touching his shoulders and flowing down his sides. "That one is for growth," he murmurs. "The instinct among abuse survivors is to lock yourself in – to stay where you are because you're afraid that anything else will be even worse." He shifts a little, his muscles rippling under the tattoo. "We have to work to keep growing instead, and to truly live. This is my reminder to always do that."

Tris is finding it difficult to breathe now, and she runs her hands over the tree, following the curve of its branches as she again feels the scars hidden beneath the ink. Tobias has turned his pain into a work of art – into a beauty that captures not only the journey of his life but the essence of who he wants to be.

"It's incredible," she whispers.

He doesn't say anything for a long time, staying still while she continues to trace the symbols that mean so much. "You're the first person to see it," he finally says, his voice low. "Except for the tattoo artist, obviously."

Her hands stop as that admission sinks in. During their six weeks together – and longer than that, if she's completely honest with herself – she has tried hard not to picture him with anyone else. But it's been an ongoing struggle. Now, though, as she stands in an apartment where he's never been with another woman, and absorbs something that he's never shared with anyone, she suddenly finds it easy to do. This moment, here, is just between them.

She's still touching him when he slowly turns around, letting her fingers graze his skin until they end up resting on his bare chest. There's another tattoo there, and she stares at it as she completely forgets how to breathe.

A stylized Ferris wheel is inked in black directly over his heart. Judging by the faint signs of wear, it's considerably older than the tattoos on his back, and she knows beyond any doubt that it's for her. It's where they had their first kiss.

"That one stands for love," he murmurs.

Her gaze shoots up to his, and he holds it, his eyes filled with feeling. For a second they're both silent, and then his lips part again, and abruptly she knows that he's about to tell her he still loves her. She'd be lying if she said that part of her didn't long to hear that. There's a gaping hole inside her that has desperately wanted to hear those words from him since the moment she received that letter.

But it's overpowered by the intense panic that surges through her at the thought. She's in too deep as it is, and there's so much to lose if he leaves again….

So, she does the only thing she can – the only thing that feels natural and that she's ready for right now. She stands on her toes and presses her mouth to his, threading her fingers into the short hair on the back of his head and pulling him closer.

His response is instantaneous. One hand finds her right hip while the other caresses her hair, sending a thousand sparks of electricity through her as it moves slowly down her neck and stops between her shoulder-blades. They hold each other tight, kissing with a passion that they've kept submerged for the last six weeks. Because they both know where it will lead.

In this moment, though, that no longer bothers her. She wants this.

"Make love to me, Tobias," she whispers as his lips attach themselves to her neck, sucking at the delicate skin in a manner that threatens to draw a moan from her.

There's only the briefest of pauses – his body stationary against hers for a split second – before he nods. "Yeah." His voice is deep and certain, and then his arms are around her, lifting her into them so he can carry her to his bed.

They undress each other slowly, their hands and mouths exploring each new inch of skin they expose as if this is the first time they've ever seen it. It's incredibly sensual, and by the time they reach the final articles of clothing, Tris doesn't think she's ever been so aroused. Tobias seems to feel the same way, judging by how hard he is as Tris pulls his boxers off, and by how uneven his breathing is while he removes her soaking panties.

"You shaved," he murmurs, his lustful gaze traveling over her, and she has to work to remember that she wasn't in that habit the first time they were together.

"Well, yeah…." She looks at him for a second, something about his expression making her question that decision. "Don't you prefer that?" Her other boyfriends over the years certainly did.

He lifts a shoulder as his gaze continues to take her in longingly. "You're beautiful either way, but…." He gives a sheepish smile. "Well, you set my standard of beauty, so I happen to think that a little tuft of blond hair down there is damned sexy."

The words surprise her, and for a short time, her mind wanders through possibilities, imagining what it would be like to never have to shave or wax that part of herself again. And contemplating what a turn-on it is to see his own dark hair forming that extremely sexy V.

She grins. "I can definitely grow it out again, Tobias."

His lips curve upwards, too, as he moves closer to the area of discussion. Brushing his nose along the smooth skin, he asks, "And you'll let me see it?"

She giggles. "I don't know. I think I'll have to see how you do tonight first."

"Mmm, I see." He runs an experimental fingertip along her folds, clearly enjoying the way her hips buck in response. "So, this is an interview."

"More of a trial run," she breathes, her focus rapidly vanishing as his finger delves deeper. "A probation period or something…." She was going to add more, she's vaguely aware, but the thought is lost when he uses his thumb to add a delicate swirling motion, watching her carefully to figure out what gives her the most pleasure.

It doesn't take her long to realize that there are advantages to being older and more experienced than their first time around. She knows her body far better than she used to – which muscles to tense as she builds up and which ones to release when she's ready to climax. And Tobias, in turn, has clearly built up some skill, judging by the easy way he brings her over the edge, repeatedly, with the touch of an expert.

Her pulse is everywhere as she revels in his hard muscles, and in the way their skin brushes together, and in how good it feels to have his body entwined with hers again. But no matter how intense the physical aspect is, there's much more to them than that. He holds her gaze, and he kisses her, and he murmurs her name again and again as he rocks in and out of her, his eyes and his voice filled with more emotion than it seems possible to express. It makes her cling to him, pulling him into her as if she'll never let him go again. As if they'll be together forever.

By the time he groans her name a final time, pushing deep inside her as his own explosion of pleasure takes over, she knows that there's no turning back now. He's the only one who's ever made her feel like this, and she can't imagine how anyone else ever could.

The thought carries the familiar weight of worry with it, but for now, she's able to let it go. For now, she's able to focus on the way his arm cradles her as he carefully withdraws, holding the condom so it won't spill. And on the way he caresses her face as he lies next to her, staring at her like he'll never be able to stop. And on the way he continues to kiss her long after he comes down from his high, his tenderness saying more than words ever could.

He finally does speak, though, his voice barely more than a breath. "I was an idiot to ever let you go."

The side of her mouth lifts as she responds. "Yes, you were." She runs her fingers over his chest, lightly tracing the tattoo with all its unspoken meaning. "It's a good thing you're older and wiser now."

A/N: Please let me know what you thought of this chapter. Life is rough right now, between being sick, having a cat who needed an emergency visit to the vet, having a trip out of town, and dealing with a funeral this weekend, so I could really use the pick-me-up that reviews provide! :-)