Chapter 6

The first time I wake up I barely realize I am in the infirmary due to an overwhelming dizziness.

The second time I wake up it's to Eric loudly threatening to kill the surgery team if they ruin his leg. While half the team is too scared to even come near him, Will just rolls his eyes and injects him with the anesthesia, causing Eric to fall asleep in mid-ramble.

The third time I wake up it's in order to puke my guts out. Someone thrusts an empty bucket in front of me and holds back my hair while I throw up.

It isn't until I am finally done and a nurse comes to take away the bucket that I realize Four is the one helping me.

"Hi," I smile shyly. It is, of course, not the first time he has seen me throw up. However, I still feel uncomfortable about it.

"Hi," he grins, letting go of my hair and sitting down on a chair next to my bed. "Feeling better?"

"Not really," I croak. My throat is burning.

"Here," he says, handing me a glass of water from the nightstand. "That'll help."

"Thanks."

I empty the glass in a few gulps.

"How long have I been out?" I finally ask when I put the glass back on the nightstand.

"A few hours," Four answers. "Your ribs are fractured – again. And you have a concussion – also, again. Only this time it's pretty serious."

"Yeah," I reply. "I'm beginning to notice."

My eyes travel from Four's face to the other side of the room where Eric is lying in his hospital bed, obviously sleeping.

"He's had surgery," Four says after following my gaze. "He's alright. No permanent damage."

I nod.

"Any news regarding the bomb?"

Four shakes his head. "No, not yet. Zeke and I are going over all the video material from all possible cameras. We'll let Max know if – when – we find something."

The nurse comes back and tells Four to leave so I can get more sleep and I am actually glad because I am still tired and slightly nauseated and to be honest, it feels kind of weird to talk to him after everything.

"Goodnight, Tris," he smiles and for a moment it seems like he is bending down toward me and I tense up. He notices and immediately stops. He waves and then turns around and leaves.

I close my eyes and immediately fall asleep again.

Two days later I am finally free to leave the infirmary. Thank god. I have lost count on how many women came by to visit Eric after his surgery. One of them even had the nerve to ask me to leave when I was once again nauseous.

Since I have to take it slow and am not allowed to work for about a weak I enjoy lunch with my friends – as much as I can with the ongoing headache and dizziness, at least.

When my friends leave for work afterward I get up, grab a piece of Dauntless chocolate cake – Eric's favorite – and make my way back to the infirmary.

The moment Eric sees me he groans in annoyance.

"I thought I was finally rid of you, Stiff."

My eyebrows shoot up.

"Yeah, I'm feeling a little better, haven't had to vomit in almost five hours now, thanks for asking," I say sarcastically while sitting down on the chair next to his bed, the plate with the cake on it in my lap. He rolls his eyes before focusing on the cake.

"Came to torture me?"

"No, dumbass," I reply, handing him the plate. "I brought this for you. I just wanted to know how you're feeling."

"Bored," Eric answers before taking a bite from the cake without so much as a thank you.

"I meant: how's your leg?" I sigh, trying to keep my calm. Why does he have to be so infuriating at times?

"Hurts," he replies. That's it. That is all I get.

I take a deep breath and decide to tell him what I wanted to say for the last couple of days.

"Thank you for protecting me when that grenade exploded."

He stops eating, the cake inches from his mouth, before he puts it back down on the plate, his brows furrowed.

"Whole lot of good it did me," he replies angrily, staring at his bandaged leg.

"Excuse me?" I gape at him, completely stunned. Anger burns through me and I ball my hands into fists.

"Oh come on, don't make a scene now-"

"You know, I don't fucking get you," I snap, fully enraged now. "One moment you're a completely decent person, the next you're all moody before suddenly risking your life to save mine and being a complete asshole again afterward."

Eric's jaw tightens, his eyes becoming cold. "I saved your life because you dying would have meant a whole lot of paperwork for me. Don't think you're special."

This effectively shuts me up. I bite my lip hard to keep it from trembling, to keep him from seeing how much that comment hurts me. I never thought I was special. I simply thought that we had finally developed some kind of friendship.

"You know," I seethe, my voice breaking as I fight to hold back tears. "If it wasn't for me pushing you away from the grenade in the first place, that thing would have torn you to pieces. You're welcome."

"Stiff-"

I don't want to hear it. I grab the cake from his plate and throw it into the nearest trash can.

"No!" I hear him whine.

Then I storm out of the infirmary, almost bumping into Max in the hallway.

"Tris, are you-"

"Remind me again, what's the punishment for killing a leader?" I interrupt him.

He looks at me in confusion. "Execution. But you already knew that."

"Yeah, but I needed to hear it again."

"Why?"

"So I won't kill the idiot in there," I reply before making my way toward the elevator.

"What the hell did you do now?" I hear Max yell inside the infirmary before the elevator doors open and I punch the button that will take me up to the roof.

Arriving on the roof top I realize I am not the only one seeking some quiet time alone. Sitting with his back against the small brick wall, from which I jumped down on my first day here, is Four.

He looks up when I make my way toward him.

"Mind if I join you?" I ask him and he smiles.

"Not at all."

He pads the space next to him and I sit down before leaning my head back and closing my eyes.

"What are you doing up here?"

"Needed some place to think," he answers. "You?"

"Don't really know," I reply truthfully, shrugging my shoulders. "I got into a fight with Eric and just needed to cool off, I guess."

When he doesn't answer I open my eyes and find him staring at me quizzically.

"What happened between the two of you out there after the bombing?"

I furrow my brows. "Someone threw a grenade at us. I thought Eric has already told you."

He smiles, shaking his head. "I didn't ask what happened to you."

I shift uncomfortably and avoid his gaze. "I don't know what you mean."

He snorts. "Tris, he had a piece of glass stuck in his calf and was in danger of bleeding out and yet he told the medical team to treat you first. It's rather … un-Eric."

I sigh. The truth is, I have no idea whatsoever as to what went on in Eric's mind that day.

"Eric didn't see the grenade," I finally answer while playing with the sleeves of my shirt. "So I threw myself against him and pushed him out of the way. We fell down, I landed on top of him and then he – he rolled us over. He covered my body with his, protected me from the blast. That shard would've gotten stuck in my leg if it weren't for Eric."

When I turn my head to look at Four again his eyes are as wide as saucers.

"He could have died trying to protect you," Four shakes his head. "What the hell? Why would Eric care that much about you?"

"He doesn't," I reply and to my I own surprise I sound rather bitter. "He told me he protected me to spare himself the trouble my death would cause him."

"Well, that does sound like Eric."

I snort and Four laughs before we fall into comfortable silence. I close my eyes again and try to relax, to block out everything around me. I realize how tired I am. I didn't sleep much during the last two nights in the infirmary.

"Tris?" Four breaks me out of my thoughts and I blink a couple of times against the cloudy sky above before turning my face to meet his gaze.

"I'm really sorry about Shauna. For what it's worth, I've never wanted to hurt you."

It is the last thing I expected him to say and I am momentarily speechless.

"Thanks," I clear my throat. "I guess it wasn't entirely your fault. If I hadn't had such issues-"

"No," he interrupts me. "Don't even think that. I should have been more accepting, I should have helped you work through your fears and instead I was an absolute dick."

I nod and give him a wry smile. "I'm not gonna argue with you on that." My face becomes serious again. "Was having sex with her different?"

"Tris, I don't think-"

"I just need to know," I interrupt him. "I know, despite everything you've just said, that it bothered you."

He looks at me for a moment, clearly thinking, before he sighs. "Yeah, it was."

I nod. It's what I guessed, anyway.

"But it wasn't better," he continues.

I laugh. "Yeah, I can imagine. Eric told me all about her lack of participation."

"You talked to Eric about it?" he stares at me like I have gone crazy. "You talked to him about our relationship problems?"

"To be fair, we no longer were in a relationship after that incident," I defend myself. "Besides, it just kinda slipped out."

He looks pissed now.

"Look, it doesn't matter," I say. "We were done long before Shauna, it was just the last straw. We weren't working anymore. We just didn't want to give up on us because we still care about each other and because everyone kinda expected us to get married, have kids and be together forever."

The anger vanishes from his eyes and is replaced by sadness.

"I do still love you," he says, his voice barely above a whisper, and before I realize what's happening his hand is on my cheek and he is kissing me.

It feels wrong. There is no spark, no excitement, no deep connection. Nothing.

I bring my hands up against his chest and softly push him away. He draws back immediately, his expression one of hurt and confusion.

"I love you, too, Tobias," I say slowly, my voice almost breaking. "But I'm not in love with you. Not anymore."

He nods his head and leans back against the wall behind us.

"I'm sorry," I whisper. "You mean so much to me, still, and I just – I don't want to lose you. I don't want to lose your friendship."

"You won't," he smiles. "No matter what, I'll get over it. But you will always matter to me and you won't ever lose me. I promise you."

I consider hugging him when my communication device suddenly begins to beep and breaks our moment.

I fish it out of my jeans pocket and look at the display.

"It's Max," I say. "Zeke has found something on the cameras. He wants to see us."

Four gets up and I do the same – too hastily. My vision blurs and I sway and Four immediately reaches out to steady me.

"Everything okay?" he asks worriedly.

"Yeah," I answer when everything returns to normal. "It's the concussion. Thank you."

He nods and together we make our way inside to meet Max.

I push the doors to the infirmary open with much more force than necessary, still fuming that Max has sent me to update Eric on what Zeke found on the cameras.

"Oh for fuck's sake," I curse when I see the tall blonde sitting on Eric's bed, stroking his arm, her breasts almost in his face.

"Sorry to interrupt," I say in annoyance when I march toward them.

"What do you want now?" Eric groans while Blondie looks at me like someone might look at the dirt on their shoes.

I hold up the file in my hand.

"Leadership stuff," I say before addressing her. "Get out." I don't even bother being polite. I have had enough for today and just want to get this over with and then take a long, hot shower.

"Who do you think you are?" Blondie squeals before turning to Eric, pouting. "You gonna let that bitch talk to me like that?"

"This bitch is your future leader," I snap. "So you better watch your tongue. Now get lost."

She is about to protest when Eric softly pushes her of the bed.

"Just let me do my job, baby. I'll see you later tonight, anyway."

He winks before slapping her butt and I feel my cheeks flush. She giggles – I roll my eyes – and then leaves.

"They're letting you out?" I ask when the doors are closing behind Blondie.

"No. But I'm leaving regardless."

Again, I roll my eyes but don't say anything.

"Sit down, Stiff," he sighs an nods toward the place his date just vacated. "And tell me what's going on."

I raise my eyebrows. "Where's that chair from earlier?"

"Don't know, don't care. Now sit down – I won't bite," he suddenly smirks. "Unless you want me to."

I huff but sit down nonetheless, careful to keep as much space between us as possibly. Which is no space at all.

Ignoring the feeling of his warm hips against my left thigh, I open the file and show Eric the pictures in it.

"Zeke found him on the camera near the conference building."

Eric's jaw tightens, his eyes narrowing.

"Edward," he growls.

I nod my head. "We think he's doing someone's dirty work."

"Obviously," Eric rolls his eyes. "He's smart and a good fighter but he's no leader. Are we absolutely sure that he is the one placing the bomb?"

"No," I answer. "But he's on every camera in Abnegation the morning before the meeting."

"They knew," he concludes.

"Max thinks so, too," I reply. "The question is: how? Who could have told them? And who is Edward working for?"

Eric rubs his eyes. "Basically, we still have nothing."

"Yeah, Four said the same."

"Four?" Eric lifts his pierced eyebrow. "Why was he part of the meeting?"

I shrug my shoulders. "He was with me when Max contacted me."

"He seems to be around you a lot lately," Eric mutters. "He carried you all the way to the truck after you had fainted and then to the infirmary, did you know that? He sat with you until you woke up, held your hair while you were sick and now-"

"Wait a minute," I interrupt him, my brows furrowing. "You were asleep when he held my hair."

Eric looks at me with wide eyes and I realize that he slipped up. He was awake the entire time and he was watching us.

"So what, you've forgiven him for fucking Shauna?" he asks me angrily. I flinch and for a moment he looks apologetic.

"He told me he still loves me and then … he kissed me."

I have no idea why I tell Eric all of this.

"He what?!" Eric exclaims, his eyes widening even more. "Stiff, if he really loved you, he wouldn't have cheated on you. You can't be that stupid-"

"I told him I don't love him anymore," I interrupt him and Eric stares at me with his mouth agape.

"Good," he says then.

"Why? What's it to you?" I reply, crossing my arms in front of my chest.

He snorts. "Nothing. I just don't want to have to deal with the aftermath all over again when he cheats on you again."

"Oh I'm so sorry you had to make our break-up your business," I snarl before jumping off his bed.

My head starts spinning again and I stumble, falling onto my knees, my stomach heaving.

"Shit, Stiff!"

I hear Eric get out of his bed and then he's sitting on the floor next to me, one hand holding back my hair, the other rubbing my back as I begin to vomit all over the floor.

"Can we get some fucking help here?!" Eric yells angrily over my shoulder.

"I'm sorry," I snivel in between. God, this is so embarrassing.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," he says right next to my ear, his voice soothing.

A moment later Will comes running from his office and soon after injects me with a serum. The effect is immediate: the nausea and dizziness stop.

"You should go to bed, Tris" he says afterward while helping me to my feet. "And no showering on your own as long as you keep feeling dizzy. Just ask Chris to help you." He adds as if reading my deep desire for the shower I was deprived of during my stay in the infirmary.

"Come on, I'll take you home," Eric sighs, getting up from the floor with some effort and a painful groan.

"What do you mean, we haven't released you yet?" Will looks at him in confusion. Eric throws him an ice-cold glare that reminds me of the look he gave me when he hung Christina over the Chasm and I tried to encourage her to hold on.

"Oookay," Will says, holding up his hands in surrender. "I'll give you some crutches then."

"I don't need fucking crutches," Eric snaps. "I'll look ridiculous."

"Oh don't be a baby and take the damn things," I groan, shaking my head. He glares at me but takes the crutches Will brings him nonetheless.

Needless to say, it takes us quite a while to get to our apartments and Eric curses almost the entire way.

"Better get some sleep now before my date arrives," he grins when we stand in front of my door.

"How do you even plan on" – I feel my face flush – "performing?" I nod toward his bandaged leg.

"I'll lay back and enjoy the show," he smirks dirtily. I furrow my brows in confusion.

"Oh for fuck's sake, Stiff," Eric stares at me incredulously. "Did Number Boy only fuck you in missionary and with all the lights out?"

I bite my lip and look at the ground.

"Shit, I'm right, aren't I? God, what a wimp."

"It wasn't his fault," I reply, still not looking at him. "He wanted to try different things, I just – you saw my fear landscape. It's really not that surprising that he turned to someone else for his needs."

Out of the corner of my eyes I see Eric lean one of his crutches against the wall. Then his hand is suddenly around my chin, lifting my head up. My eyes meet his piercing steely gray ones.

"It's not your fault, either," he says, his voice so deep that it sends a shiver down my spine. "If you were my girl, I would work through each and every one of your fears with you until you're ready and beg me to fill you with my cock."

I stare at him in utter shock while he withdraws his hand and grabs his abandoned crutch.

I am still staring long after he has gone into his own apartment and closed the door behind him with a wink.