Becoming Determinant - Tobias' Story

Divergent Chapter 22 - Tris Recovers

A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter! Thank you also to my wonderful beta reader, Rosalie! This chapter is a modified version of one that I originally posted a long time ago as my first ever "Divergent" fanfiction. Now that the rest of the story has caught up to it, I edited it to fit the flow better. Hopefully, it works and doesn't sound out of place with the previous chapters.

"Divergent" Chapter 22 - Tris Recovers in Four's Apartment

Focus. Breathe. Calm down. I repeat that over and over as I walk. Finally, it occurs to me that Tris might be awake by now – might have woken up in a strange place with no one there. God, I'm an idiot. I return to my apartment quickly, sliding through the door and latching my eyes onto her instantly.

She's still unconscious. I'm not sure whether to be relieved or worried. It's been almost forty-five minutes now. I check her breathing and find it smooth and regular. She seems to be all right – well, as all right as she can be under the circumstances. The ice pack is warming up, though, so I put it back in the freezer. It's time for a cycle without the cold anyway.

My hands catch my attention again, and I walk into the bathroom to wash the blood off them. Focusing on breathing slowly, I scrub each finger thoroughly while I put myself through my calming routine, pushing the emotions down. I've already allowed them to vent for too long. Now, everything needs to be about her, about taking care of her.

I focus just on that, and feel the calm settle through me as I examine my cuts. Every knuckle is split, but that's nothing new. There's a cut on the corner of my mouth, too, but it will heal fine. I turn off the water and dry my hands, return to the room, and retrieve a fresh ice pack from the refrigerator.

As I'm walking back to Tris, our eyes meet. She's awake. Relief floods through me, but I keep my face still. It's already strange that I brought her back here, instead of to the infirmary. I need to play this right.

"Your hands," she croaks, and it takes me a moment to realize that she's actually worried about me. She almost died. She was strangled until she can barely talk, and then she was dropped into the chasm, yet her first thought on waking up is to worry about my knuckles? I almost sigh. She still has way too much Abnegation in her.

"My hands are none of your concern." I say it more roughly than I intended, but she needs to think about herself right now. Besides, I need to stay calm, and I'm not sure I can do that if she keeps looking at me like that. Like my injuries mean more to her than her own, like I mean more to her...

I stop the thought and lean over her, putting my knee on the mattress while I slip the ice pack under her head again. As I do, she reaches up, her hand hesitating for a moment, and then touches the corner of my mouth. My insides freeze and heat up at the same time, and I stare at her as I've done twice today.

At least her eyes are moving normally…. I force myself to focus on that fact, to confirm there's no concussion. Finally, I speak through her fingers. "Tris, I'm all right."

"Why were you there?" she asks, letting her hand drop onto the bed again.

"I was coming back from the control room. I heard a scream." Your scream.

"What did you do to them?" she asks. I wish she hadn't. I don't know how I feel about it. I've never beaten someone like I did Drew, and in some ways it makes me feel like my father, but at the same time it doesn't feel like enough – not nearly enough.

"I deposited Drew at the infirmary a half hour ago. Peter and Al ran. Drew claimed they were just trying to scare you. At least, I think that's what he was trying to say." My voice stays steadier than I expected. The expression on her face is hard to read.