Eventually I make my way back to Tori once the crowd dies down in the Pit. I pick up an example of script and show it to her.

"This script, but the words "Trust no one. Save yourself." On my arm, if you could?"

Tori just shrugs and nods. "I think you're getting addicted to the needle, kid,"

"The more I have, the less attention anyone pays to one specific one," I explain to her. "I just keep adding a little at a time."

"That's actually… a really good point, Tris."

I grin at her. "Sometimes I do, in fact, know what I'm talking about."

As Tori finishes up, Will and Christina appear from wherever she had dragged him off to shop. She loops her arm through mine.

"You ready to get back? We should get to bed." Christina gives me an expecting look.

I am not sleeping in that room. Probably ever again.

"Um…" I glance around, trying to come up with an excuse that's not borne out of fear. I catch movement to the right side of the pit, and a dark shadow climbs towards the glass ceiling. The lithe steps tell me it's Four. "Actually, I'll catch up with you guys later. I need to talk to Four about something." I point towards the shadow walking up the path.

She argues only for a moment before giving me a strange look and leaving with Will. Once they're out of sight, I jog lightly to catch up with him. When I reach the top, he's standing on the opposite side of the glass room, at the door to the fear landscape.

He doesn't look up, but with his hand on the doorknob, calls out, "Since you're here, you might as well go in with me."

I'm not nearly as stealthy as I thought. "Into your fear landscape?"

He nods.

"I can do that?"

He explains how it works, but I don't really care.

I follow him into the room.

"You would let me see that?" A strange feeling is settling in the pit of my stomach.

"Why else do you think I'm going in?" He almost looks shy. He won't look at me. "There are some things I want to show you."

He holds out the syringe and I tilt my head. I only feel a slight prick as the needle goes in; I'm getting used to it at this point. Then he hands me the other syringe and tilts his head. I look between him and the syringe hesitantly, and he taps his finger to a spot on his neck, the instruction clear.

He offers me his hand, and as I slide my fingers between his, I realize he had two syringes. He knew I would follow him; he did plan this.

"See if you can figure out why they call me Four," he says.

"Well, what's your real name?" I ask.

A haunted look falls over his face. "I think you'll figure that out too."

The wind starts blowing. I lean against Four to stay on my feet; I'm almost too light to not be blown away. His hand releases mine and then slides around my shoulders. It's not for me though. I remember the Ferris wheel; he's afraid of h eights. He seems to be having trouble breathing.

"So, we jump?" I ask him. And he nods.

"Okay, together then." I grip his hand tightly and count to three. I sprint to the edge of the building, dragging him behind me, and then jump, pulling him down with me. The scene changes, and I'm on my hand and knees on the floor, grinning as I remember why I chose Dauntless.

"What's next?"

Something solid hits my back and I groan a little in pain. I slam into Four as walls appear all around us. Four is slouched over to fit.

"Confinement," I muse.

I'm pushed up against his chest and he makes guttural noise, groaning like he's in pain. I pull back and look at him; he's not doing well.

"Hey, it's okay, here, just…" I guide his arms around my body so he has more space. He clutches himself to me. His cheek is practically pressed against mine and I wonder if he even notices how hot my face must feel.

"See, at least you're trapped with someone small." He makes some kind of strained grunt of agreement, I think.

"Okay, we can't break out; so, we face it. Do we make the space smaller?"

"Yes."

"Okay then, let's go." I squeeze his waist and pull him down into a crouch with me. It's not quite working once we're crouched, so I turn in his arms, my spine against his chest. Our limbs are kind of jumbled together.

"This is worse," he rasps out as the ceiling inches closer to us.

"It's fine, it's fine, arms around me." He slips his arms around my waist, and I tell myself that this is not enjoyable. He's still hyperventilating behind me. "You said it measures your fear response. So, we have to calm your heart rate."

"That easy, huh?" His lips touch my ear as he speaks, and I'm glad that it's not my heart that the simulation is checking for right now.

"You know, most boys wouldn't exactly hate this setup right now." I say it in a playful tone, hoping to try to distract him.

"Not when they're claustrophobic, Tris." Okay, I'm going to excuse him for snapping at me like that because he sounds panicked and it's not his fault.

"Okay, okay," I take a deep breath in preparation for what I'm about to do. I take his hand and guide it to my chest, over my heart. "Feel my heartbeat. Can you feel it?"

"Yes."

"Feel how steady it is?"

"It's pretty fast, actually," he comments.

"Yeah, well, that's not because of the box." I guess that backfired. "Focus on the rise and fall of my chest. Each time I breathe, you breathe."

He complies and after a few seconds, I say, "Okay, that seems to help. Talk to me. Um… where did this fear come from? Maybe talking about it will help."

"Um," he takes a deep breath in sync with me, "this comes from being locked in a closet as a child. It was a punishment."

That sounds fucking awful. I'm actually pretty sure that's child abuse.

"I'd rather not talk about it."

I get that. "Okay, then ask me something," I offer.

He laughs breathily in my ear. "Okay. Why is your heart racing, Tris?"

"Ask me something else," I say immediately, and he laughs again, but says nothing, waiting.

"I'm crammed up against you in a small box, Four," I say. "We barely know each other."

He pauses, considering that for a moment, before asking another question. "If we were in your fear landscape, would I be in it?"

"I'm not afraid of you."

"Of course you're not." He almost sounds like he's smiling now. That's good. "But that's not what I meant."

My mind drifts to the dream I had earlier this afternoon during my nap. "Maybe," I offer up. "I'm actually not sure what would be in my fear landscape right now."

The walls break apart, but Four doesn't move. After a moment, it starts becoming hard to breathe. I can't focus. The physical walls are no longer closing in, but the room seems to be closing in on my vision. I'm frozen.

"Tris?" His voice sounds concerned.

"Can you, uh…" I stutter, not even sure what I'm trying to ask. I almost fall forward to create space. "Space," I gasp out. "I just need a minute."

His arms drop and he jumps to his feet, taking a step back to watch me. I refuse to meet his eyes; I don't want to see the pity I'm sure is present.

When my senses finally return to me, I take a deep breath and push myself off the floor.

"What's next?" I ask, trying to sound upbeat as I turn to look at him. He looks to the side of the room, and I see a woman pointing a gun at us. She's motionless. A table appears next to us with a gun and a single bullet. I'm confused for a moment; why isn't she shooting?

Oh. It's not a fear for his life. It's the fear of taking one.

"You have to kill her," I say softly. He nods.

"I know it's not real, but it feels real," he sighs. "And the more I do it and tell myself it's not real, I feel like I'm just conditioning myself for when it is." He takes a deep breath. "It's fine. This one isn't as bad. Less panic involved."

He picks up the gun and loads the bullet in the chamber – without thought, like it's a habit. He takes aim at her and inhales. As he releases the breath, he pulls the trigger and her head whips back.

We both stare at her for a long moment, before I grab his arm. "Come on," I say, "Let's go."

An odd thought crosses my mind as we move to the next scene. These are supposed to be your worst fears. He seemed… okay, with that last one. Number three, as we move to number four. It seems like the simulation is really struggling to find fears within him.

"Here it is," he whispers. I turn around and look at the landscape of the scene; we're in Abnegation.

A dark figure creeps along the wall. As he emerges in the light, wearing the grey clothes of my family, I'm startled.

"Marcus," I breathe out.

"Here's the part where you figure out my name." I've never seen this Four. His voice is shaking. He's terrified.

Marcus walks slowly towards us, and everything starts to come together. Marcus had a son who defected to Dauntless. The son I never saw again or heard from again after I sat by him at his mother's funeral.

I blink as the realization hits me so hard I almost fall over from the pain spreading from my chest; I don't understand where the pain comes from, but…

"I haven't seen you since your mother's funeral," I whisper softly. "I always wondered…"

"Tobias," Marcus says lowly. He is in front of us with a belt curled around his fists. As he unwinds it, he continues, "this is for your own good."

Suddenly, a dozen Marcus clones surround us, moving in unison. His eyes are cruel – empty blank pits of nothing.

I glance at Four, or, Tobias, I guess, and he's frozen. I've never seen him cower from anything, but his posture sags and as Marcus yanks his arm back in preparation to strike, I'm horrified to see Tobias shrink back and throw his hands up to cover his face.

I rush to stand in front of him, turning and catching the crack of the belt around my out thrown arm. Pain radiates to my elbow as the belt wraps around it. I pull my arm as hard as I can, and Marcus loses his grip on the belt.

I swing at him and the belt strikes him back. Marcus yells, enraged, and lunges for me. I feel Tobias's hands on my shoulders; he pulls me behind him to stand between me and Marcus. He looks angry now; the fear is gone.

The scene fades away and we're back in the unaltered fear landscape room.

"Four fears?" I ask incredulously. "Seriously, only four?" I look over my shoulder at him. "Oh. I guess it makes sense."

As I take in his expression, I stop. He's staring at me with wide eyes, his lips parted just a breath. I would almost describe it as awe, but that makes no sense. He wraps his hand around my elbow; his eyes meet mine, searching for something. He must find it, because he tugs me towards him. His lips brush lightly against my cheek and then he tightens his arms around my shoulders and buries his face into my neck, exhaling shuddering breaths against my collarbone.

"We got through it," I say softly, trying to comfort him.

He lifts his head to look at me and slips his fingers through my hair.

"You got me through it," he says.

I shrug as much as I can while wrapped in his arms. "Well, it's easy to be brave when they're not my fears."

He steps back from me and slides one arm from behind me back down to take my hand. His fingers lace through mine.

"Come on," he says. "I have something else to show you."

There's something in the back of my mind; I can't place it, but there's something about what Tobias has just shown me that makes me irrationally angry, and not at his father.

We walk hand in hand toward the Pit. I've never understood the appeal to handholding, but right now, but then he runs the tip of one of his fingers down my palm and I shiver. Maybe I get it now.

He leads me along a narrow path that leads to the bottom of the chasm. I've never even noticed it before now. He seems to know all the shortcuts around here.

"Are you ever going to tell me your aptitude test results?"

"You're really on that, aren't you?"

"I want to know." My tone is insistent. Is he like me? Is that why he knows?

"Are you going to tell me yours?" he throws back at me.

"Just because you don't believe me doesn't mean it wasn't true," I quip. "I told you, I got Dauntless."

As we reach the end of the path, he finds a relatively flat rock to sit on and lowers himself, his feet dangling over the edge. I sit beside him.

"My result was Abnegation," he finally says.

"Oh."

I'm disappointed. Did he get an Abnegation like I got a Dauntless? Was Abnegation just one of his results?

"Then why Dauntless?"

"Out of necessity."

"No, I mean, I get it," I assure him. "You had to get away from your dad. But there are three other factions you could have gone to. Abnegation to Dauntless isn't an easy adjustment." He gives me a look. "Yeah, but I was following my test results." The look on his face tells me he still doesn't believe that, but I can't exactly tell him that I've been training for Dauntless for the last decade because I'm a part of a secret society that's planning to overthrow the government. Instead, I say, "Is that why you keep turning down leadership roles? Because you might have to deal with Abnegation leadership?"

"That," he shrugs, "and I've always felt like I don't quite belong among the Dauntless. Not the way they are now, at least."

I jerk my head back and look at him. "You're joking! But you're incredible." I clear my throat. "I mean, by Dauntless standards – you were top ranked in your year; you only have four fears. Also, every single initiate is terrified of you."

He looks down at me with a shadow of a smile. "Every initiate is afraid of me?" he asks, taunting me.

"Yes," I respond firmly.

"Tris." He rolls his eyes. "You're not afraid of me."

"Sometimes I am," I admit. "I'm still trying to figure it out." The conversation has turned heavier than I expected.

He seems to sense this. "See, I have this theory that bravery and selflessness aren't that different. You and I were brought up to care more about everyone else than ourselves. So, in dangerous situations, it becomes bravery by caring more about everyone else than ourselves. I could have fit in at Abnegation too."

"Not me," I said quietly. "I never fit in there in the first place. I left because I wasn't selfless enough, no matter how hard I tried."

"I don't think I believe that." He smiles at me. "That girl who let me throw knives at her to help a friend, who didn't seem to have an issue with the closed quarters in the fear landscape until I was okay, who stood between me and my dad as it was coming to blows – that selfless girl, that's not you?"

I've never thought about it that way. I've never paid that much attention. The fact that he apparently has… it makes me feel strange. I've always thought he looks at me like a little sister, but I've certainly never given that much thought to Caleb. It almost seems like he could feel something, well, more for me. But I'm me…

"You've been paying close attention, haven't you?" My voice is quiet, almost inaudible.

"I like to observe people."

I could let it go at that. But I'm feeling brave.

"It's a shame you didn't consider Candor, Four, because you're a terrible liar."

He sets his hand on the rock next to him, his fingers lining up with me; he's not quite touching me, but still.

"Fine." He turns his body towards me and leans his face closer to mine, his eyes focusing on my chin, my lips, my nose, before meeting my eyes. "I watched you because I like you."

"But why?" I stress the last word, my voice dripping with disbelief.

He lets out a laugh and just smiles down at me.

"I mean it," I argue. Why am I arguing? "I'm a lot younger than you, Four, and-"

"Yes, that two-year gap is just insurmountable, isn't it? And don't call me Four. It's nice to hear my name again."

"Shut up, Tobias," I quip back. "I just don't get it. I'm younger. I'm not pretty. I-"

A laugh falls out of him. A deep laugh that sounds like it burst out before he could stop it. He presses his lips to my temple.

"Don't pretend," I breath out, my face warm. "I'm not. I'm not ugly, but I'm not pretty. I've seen other girls here."

"Fine. You're not pretty." He kisses my cheek. "I disagree, by the way, but ignoring that. I like how you look. It works for you. You're deadly smart. You're brave." His voice softens. "You found out about Marcus and you're not giving me that look like I'm a kicked puppy."

I don't think I could ever use those words to describe him.

"Well, you're not," I say simply.

His dark eyes trap mine and I can't look away. He's quiet for a moment, contemplative. Then his hand cups my cheek and he leans in, brushing his lips with mine. His touch is so light, I wonder if I imagined it. Then I feel him grin against my lips and he presses his mouth to mine.

I tense up at first and he pulls away quickly. I see the gears turning in his head and I can't let him go there. I don't want him to apologize right after he's kissed me. Before he can say anything, I slide my hand up his neck and pull his lips back to mine. My other hand rests lightly on his back, and he holds my face in his hands.

I'm not sure how long we kiss. At some point, we stand, hand in hand and leave the Pit.

We've walked in silence almost the whole way and I realize he's led us back to his apartment. I start to release his hand, but he tightens his grip.

"You're not planning on sleeping in the dorm tonight." It's not a question. It's an observation.

"No," I confirm. "I'm not an idiot. I can't sleep in there while Peter is still there."

"So, what was your plan?" he asks, putting me on the spot.

"I'll figure something out," I say nonchalantly. I'm not lying. I've scoped out several place that are remote enough that I feel somewhat safe staying there overnight.

"Or," he says, reaching forward to unlock his door and push it open. "You can stay with me."

"No, Tobias, I-"

He pulls me lightly towards him and looks down at me. "Hey, I'll sleep on the floor, and you can take the bed. You're still healing; you need a good night's sleep. Do you feel safe here?"

The "yes" slips out of my mouth and I'm shocked to find I'm not lying. I feel safe with him.

"Okay then." He guides me into his apartment and points towards the bed. I sit on the edge while he disappears for a few moments and comes back with a pillow. He settles in on the floor next to the bed.

I have one arm hanging off the side of the bed and as my eyes fall shut, I feel his reach out and hold it.

As I'm drifting off to sleep, the realization his me so hard that I barely stop myself from shooting up in bed; I don't want to wake Tobias.

There are so many things my mother has told me to prepare, but one sticks out. There are people outside the city. There is a threat in the city and also a threat outside the city.

No matter what, never talk to anyone about the mission or plans unless I'm absolutely sure I can trust them.

But there are extra rules. Like if we're discussing the threat in the city, just be aware of the cameras placed throughout the city.

Never discuss the outside threat without first verifying everyone present has the tattoo and confirmed codes. At least not inside the city. Because it was under complete surveillance.

Which means the evil outside the city could see what was happening to Tobias as a child. And they did nothing.