Right? --A Fourtris/Tris Pedrad Story

Chapter 62

23 days. 23 days since Tris was put into a medically induced coma. 1 day since her infections we're deemed stable enough for us to be in the room with her. 23 days since I've seen Tris. 15 days since I had surgery on my knee.

Yes, I had surgery on my knee just over two weeks ago. They had to try to fix my knee, but it's still really bad. I've used crutches since I got to the hospital with Tris that day. I've been working almost nonstop since then too.

Everyone gets real mad at me when I work all the time. Gus gave me a raise and now I work about 18 hours per day. I know that's a lot, but I gotta get this money for Tris. If we get too far behind, they'll unplug life support.

I eat once a day if that, and I train almost every night for about an hour. It gets my mind off of everything. I only sleep, like, four hours, no pun intended. It's hard enough to navigate around. I can tell that you can see it when you look at me. I don't look skinny, but I'm definitely not as big as I was.

Zeke was the one who told me that her infections were good enough to come in. Hopefully that means they can start trying to heal the broken bones. She's already had some emergency surgeries because the bones tried to heal the wrong way. It's not like she really moves.

I still watch the boys every Thursday. I know I should be working, but I just can't stop doing it. Tris would want me to. It's so hard to do things Tris would tell me to do, so I don't do them.

I know Tris would've told me not to go save her that day. She would've told me not to be sad when she died. She would've told me to let her go. She would've told me to move on. I could never do any of that.

My phone vibrates on the table and I grab it quickly, putting it to my ear without even checking the contact name. "Hello, " I say. I continue to look at the computer screens.

"Why don't you come see Tris when you get off today?" I glance at the clock. I forgot it was 8 already. Zeke was long gone. He wanted to work more, but I couldn't let him. He has kids at home.

"I don't know, " I say, looking down at my keyboard. "Four, everyone'll be gonna by the time you get here." I knew he was right. I get off at midnight. Everyone is asleep by then, and I should be too.

"Come on, Four. Please, " he begs. I sigh. "Fine." I didn't bother asking for the room number. I knew where she was. The sign that displayed it was burned into my brain from the day I saw her with the tube down her throat and blackish-purple skin.

"You run and get dinner yet?" I hear Shauna shout in the background. "Yeah, " I lie right through my teeth. I'm sure Shauna will catch it. She always does. "I'll be there in 20 minutes." Before I can refuse, the line goes dead.

They need to stop treating me as if I'm incapable of taking care of myself. I know how long I can go without eating. You can go 2 weeks before dying. I usually just skip eating for 2 or 3 days. I'll be fine. I'm capable of knowing when to draw the line.

"Heading out, Four, " Gus' scraggly voice says from behind me as I feel his hands on my shoulders. "See ya tomorrow, " I reply, not even looking away.

I know Gus is worried about me. He's openly admitted it. "You're gonna work yourself to death, " he would say. "Then come to my funeral," was always my response. Gus always laughed and shook his head

Time flies until I hear the door open behind me. I know it's Shauna. I'm the only one who works this late. It's the in-between part where the shifts are switching from the day shift to the night shift. I do all day and part of the night.

"You gotta eat, Four." I see the tray being placed in front of me. I scoot back and turn to the side to see her sitting on the table with her arms crossed. "You're gonna get sick one of these days."