She’s backed herself to the edge of the cot. She has a look in her eyes that reminds me of myself when I was living with Marcus in Abnegation: terrified; as if she were a five year old who’s parents left her alone in a room full of people who she doesn’t know. It hurts me, but I don’t know how to help her, or even to confess how much I’ve missed her.
“I- I won’t hurt you,” I do my best to assure her.
My pitiful attempt is anything but soothing. She’s staring at something on my hip. I look down to see my shotgun hanging out of my pocket. I touch the handle and she flinches back.
“Please,” she gasps, “No. No, no no.” She puts her right hand up weakly as if to keep me back. Only then do I notice how thin she is, her arm barely able to sustain it’s own weight.
I realize what this is. The doctor warned me of probable PTSD, obviously triggered by the sight of the weapon that hurt her. I feel a pang of disgust with myself for even bringing the damn thing.
Slowly, I take the gun out of my pocket, taking a step back. Watching me, I see the terror gaining on her when it’s in my hand.
“Look. See?” I slide the gun on the floor behind me, causing it to hit the wall with a thud. She flinches. “I would never hurt you.” I put my hands up in mock surrender.
Still not convinced, her eyes wander over my body. I feel the fire I’ve always felt when I knew she was staring at me. I take a step toward her.
“Remember me?” I ask, “Four? Do you remember that name?” Her face is blank. I try a different approach:
“Tobias Eaton, Tris. My name is Tobias.” I see something pass through her eyes.
“Tobias!” She gasps. Her eyes light up.
She swings her legs over the cot and tries to take a step. I realize her body isn’t ready for walking. I catch her under the arms mid-fall.
“Maybe that’s not such a good idea.” I grin.
She laughs weakly “Maybe not.” While putting my hands on her hips to help steady her, I realize I haven’t held her like this in more than six years. I hug her to my chest. I feel her breath in my ear. She wraps her arms around me.
“I’ve missed you,” She whispers.
“I love you,” I reply.
