TRIS POV
The apartment is stuffy and gloomy when I enter, the summer rain probably having something to do with it. It is barely dawn, though it is difficult to tell with the clouds looming overhead. I watch the heavy drops trickle down the near floor-to-ceiling windows before I remember why I am here.
I sniffle and rub my stinging eyes, finding that I can't seem to shake off the remnants of my harsh crying. I was up all night, and if I didn't have other things to take care of, I wouldn't find it in me to deny my body of its much-needed sleep; the quilt on the bed makes my heart constrict as it simultaneously calls out my name.
In his closet there is a duffel bag. I pull it out and begin filling it with clothes—comfortable shirts, sweatpants, underwear, socks. I won't be back here for a while, so I don't see it as a harmful thing that I take as much as could possibly be needed. That must explain why I take the computer too.
On my way out, I glance back at the bare apartment, desperate to stay. But that isn't a realistic option anymore.
As soon as I step into the hallway, my hood is up and over my head. I keep my face down to conceal it. The Erudite haven't released anything yet as far as I know, but I am not keen on showing my face even before it comes. Who knows how quickly they will find me with just a simple article.
Dauntless is already lively at this time of morning. People bustle about and run through their daily routines. The newly initiated members are probably signing up for their lifelong occupations, or still celebrating their survival. It could have been that easy for me if I had heeded my brother's advice to stay out of trouble.
But reckless is who I am.
I cross the Pit, lingering in the shadows of the rock walls. Nobody pays attention to me and for that I am glad. I go unnoticed by doctors and nurses when I walk into the infirmary too, as they yawn into their coffees and check on patients.
The infirmary is wide and open, since there are too many injuries to account for in Dauntless, and there is no point of walls getting in the way of extra beds. However, I am thankful that the bed I am heading to is the one in the far corner and is sectioned off by a curtain.
Tobias looks the same as how I left him: pale, peaceful, but still lacking consciousness. The doctors had stripped him of his clothes so they could provide life-saving medical help, leaving him clad in only his black boxer briefs. I notice that they have raised his leg with some kind of hanging support in preparation for when he wakes up; with the bullet wound in the back of his thigh, it would be painful to lie flat.
I set the duffel on the floor and take a seat on the creaking chair next to the bed, curling my legs up into my chest.
He was lucky. The doctors told me that I didn't have much reason to be worried about him dying in the first place, even from blood loss. The bullet went straight into his leg and dug itself in, but it managed to miss everything important, even nerves. It was imbedded in the muscle, and he was perfectly safe once they removed it.
Their reassurances did nothing to erase the distress that still hasn't worn off. And it certainly doesn't take back what he told me in his deathlike state.
It was too surreal to think that I was going to move in with him without issues, choose a workplace, settle my life here in Dauntless. This experience—and my inner struggle that accompanied it—served to confirm that. But frustrating as it is, I am more appalled by the tiny, sickening piece of me that wants to put temporary space in between us because of it.
I sigh and reach out for his hand, wondering how I'm going to tell him that I need to leave him. Especially now, when he needs me there for his recovery, however short it may be.
Studying his handsome features, I pretend like nothing is wrong. For a moment I trick myself into believing that he is sleeping in his apartment and I am watching him, watching that absence of stoicism that I usually attribute to him as his bare chest rises and falls.
But the soreness of my muscles—from practically dragging him off the train and to the infirmary—and the hard drive in my pocket pressing into my thigh steer me back into reality. This night did happen, and there is no way to avoid that fact.
My eyes slide shut as I take comfort in how warm his hand is, with life flowing through it. I am so beat that I nearly fall asleep to the repetitive metronome that is the heart monitor right there, sitting up. That is, until I hear his sharp intake of breath that brings me back in a millisecond.
He isn't alarmed to be in the infirmary, or even interested in where he is or what happened. His hand tightens in mine, and his glossy eyes float around the room before settling on me.
"Why are you still here?" he whispers, his voice a slur of painkillers.
I know why he is asking. It baffles him that after what he told me about not warning the Abnegation before their slaughter, that I could still be here for him, love him, after what he did.
And while I am conflicted about it, I have spent the night praying for his life to be spared. I have yet to resolve my feelings; it isn't exactly a priority of mine right now.
He alone is.
"Family look after each other," I reply simply.
We are each other's family, just as he offered to be after we escaped Erudite, in the house where he never had one. We were when I was suffering from life-threatening depression and he rushed to catch me despite our falling out. We were when I pulled him back from fighting. We were family even when we loathed each other, because sometimes families quarrel but eventually they drift back together.
Because it is inevitable—we belong to each other. That bond cannot be severed by past mistakes.
Tobias seems to take comfort in that, calmly resting his eyes while I keep my lips tenderly planted on his forehead.
xXxXx
"Two nights ago, two fugitives broke into Erudite, one in the control room and another in a private laboratory. The woman was discovered to be a familiar face from the war: Beatrice 'Tris' Prior of Dauntless," Tobias reads aloud. "The man's identity is unknown, but he matches the description of the man involved in the Candor robbery that took place last week. It is speculated that the two cases are connected.
"What was stolen is unknown. Erudite investigators are currently working to find an answer. In the meantime, the leaders demand that Tris Prior be turned in to the authorities to answer for her crimes. Anybody who comes forward with helpful information will be rewarded."
Tobias finishes with a pessimistic tone before he sets his computer beside him on the bed. Uncomfortable all of the sudden, he readjusts his leg so that it is propped up higher on a pillow. He is set to return home today—in an hour—but it sounds like I won't be going with him. As I expected.
"I can't be with you," I state obviously. "For the time being, we need to be separated."
Although he purses his lips with distaste, he knows that it is the truth. Unless I want to end up in a prison cell, I need to go into hiding, and it certainly cannot be anywhere near him.
"I just don't know where I can go," I add.
"I have an idea," he says slowly, with his eyebrows furrowed. He reaches for his laptop again. "Stay with your friends, for the time being. In a few hours, I should have something worked out."
Guilt sets in as he types a message to an unknown person. Anyone he manages to find that would be willing to hide me will automatically be branded as a co-conspirator if I am discovered. Is it selfish of me to put someone else in harm's way so that he won't be? I believe so.
"I don't want to leave you," I murmur. Not after I almost just lost him. I wonder if he can hear my throat clogging up.
His conflicted eyes flash up to mine, deep and thoughtful. "Tris. Come here."
I stand, and he pulls me down for a lingering kiss that makes my knees weak. When I close my eyes, I can see us in a safe place where we don't have to ever run. I can see us drawing out the beautiful moments and spending all the time we have together without hastening, like we are certain that peril will find us again.
And then it ends, and I am back in the infirmary. A fugitive kissing a boy with a bullet wound in his thigh because he was foolish enough to come back and rescue me after I dismissed the option to save myself. How ironic—it will end the same anyway, with me locked up.
"It's just for a little while, until we can figure something out," Tobias assures me.
I nod, though I know he is wrong. There is no way out of this in which we end up together. There is no way out of this, period.
A few tears leak out, and I try to wipe them away before he can notice—but of course, he does. It is humiliating that he is the one who was critically injured, and yet I am the one who can't keep it together. I am crumbling under this pressure, and who knows how fast I would lose it if we really did have to split up permanently?
"Tris," he says smoothly. "You're tired; you've been sitting in that chair for over a day. Go to Christina's and get some rest. I'll talk to you soon."
With another assenting nod, I reach into my pocket and hand him the hard drive, just in case. I kiss him one last time, tell him I love him, and leave the infirmary.
I work my way through the back hallways to get to Christina and Dez's shared apartment, cowering at the sound of any voices. It takes a while to get there with this longer route, and I start to feel too exposed after a while, flinching even when a light flickers. Realistically, if someone sees me, even someone who doesn't have a vendetta against me, I will be seized in minutes. It is dire that I stay out of sight.
Once the apartment is one hall away, I let my guard down, walking briskly to get there faster. I turn the last corner and run straight into a chest. My eyes flick up to the man I ran into, and I swallow hard when I recognize him.
Peter. With his hair swept and his malicious, green eyes locked on me. The person who stripped me naked in the dormitory for no other reason than to taunt me; who preyed on the weak during training; who blinded a man he was jealous of; who groped me and hanged me over the chasm; who later saved my life.
"Peter," I greet softly. I draw in a sharp intake of breath out of dread. He has more of a vendetta against me than most of the people in this compound. Without a doubt, he is going to tell. The best bet I have right now is to run...
And where would I get by doing it? Nowhere. Plus I will look like a coward in his eyes, and that is pleasure that I refuse to give him.
"Stiff," he says coldly.
We have a silent standoff as I await my fate. Eventually I see him start to waver, although my eyes must be tricking me. Peter Hayes would never pass up a deal to get in the good grace's of someone powerful, nor to get back at me.
It seems as though I don't know him as well as I thought I did.
"I'm not going to turn you over."
For some reason, the reprieve makes me more tense. "Why?" I ask. If Peter doesn't want to get me arrested, it must be because he means to hurt me in some other way of his own accord. Either that, or he wants me to be indebted to him.
He scowls. "Does it matter? Just get lost before someone else sees you."
I don't need to be told twice. I shuffle away from him and down the hall to my destination.
After knocking once, the door swings open, and I am yanked inside. A surprised yelp escapes me before Christina shushes me.
"Tris, are you crazy?!" she exclaims. "What are you still doing in Dauntless? And why the hell did you break into Erudite?"
I can't get a word out before Dez zeroes in on me as well. "Yeah, seriously! We have been so worried, so this better be the best explanation—"
I hold my hands up and lean forward from my cornered position against the door. "Listen, I have been researching something, something big. I needed to go there for information," I explain, finding it best to leave Tobias's name out of this. "And what do you mean leave Dauntless? I can't—"
"Um, hello? What are you going to do? Hide the rest of your life?" Christina says sarcastically. "You're a fugitive. They're going to start a real search, and they're going to find you sooner or later."
I knew this fact, but how certain she is about my demise bothers me. I scoff, "Thanks for the vote of confidence."
"It's true!
"I know, I know..." I ramble, pulling on my hair and taking a seat on their couch. "I can't leave Dauntless though. Not yet."
"Why not?" Dez presses. "What's more important than your life?"
"I have other obligations..." I bounce my knee anxiously and let out a sigh when they stare at me expectantly. "Four got hurt. Bad. I can't leave him like this."
Christina rolls her eyes. "Tris, whatever it is, he can take care of himself. And Dez is right: right now, you need to worry about your own life—"
"He is my life!" I shout, raising myself from the couch. At my unexpected heated behavior, I shake my head and apologize. "I'm sorry."
"That's okay," Dez consoles, ever the Amity. "You're under a lot of stress. We understand."
I slump, defeated. "I just don't know what I'm going to do."
"We'll help you."
"Yeah, anything you need," Christina offers. Then her face tightens into an interrogating look. "But first, you have to tell us what's going on and why you broke into Erudite, and Candor." A knowing glint in her eye lets me know that she has figured out why I borrowed her white shirt a few weeks back.
I hold my tongue for a moment. Telling them is a risk, as they are mostly faction orderlies, not a Divergent rebel like me who questions the leaders; if they don't believe me, then they could think I have finally gone insane and not be so willing to help me anymore. I could damage our friendships if they don't agree. Maybe I can get through to Dez though, on account of her Divergence.
"Okay," I say. "Just keep an open mind."
They nod and wait for my explanation.
"I started looking for information because I didn't believe that the suicides happening around the city were genuine suicides."
I pause, and Dez gives me a bewildered stare. "How can they not be genuine? You mean like someone was forcing them?"
"Exactly. So the deeper I got into the investigation, I found out that each victim has had a puncture in their neck around the time of death..."
Christina nods along before inferring, "It's a serum. Someone is injecting these people with a serum that makes them kill themselves."
"You believe me?" I ask, shocked. I suppose I didn't give my friends enough credit.
"Why not? It sounds believable." She shrugs. "Much more believable than the stories they're feeding us about chain suicides."
"Yeah, that's too much of a coincidence to be true, now that I think about it," Dez adds, and I blow out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. "So what did you find out?"
My mind drifts to the hard drive that is now in Tobias's care again. "I don't know yet," I state. "I was going to use the Erudite information to find out who is using the serum, but I haven't had a chance to look."
We let the important moment sink in, leaving each other to our own speculating thoughts. Eventually Dez mumbles something about checking the news before collapsing on her bed and scrolling on her hand-held device.
"Look, Tris. I don't want to sound like a terrible friend, but it's dangerous for us for you to be here," Christina says carefully.
I nod along. "I know. I'm going to leave as soon as I can. Four said he was working on finding a safer place for me to stay."
Nosy as she is, she questions me on him. "How did he get hurt, anyway?"
With some hesitation—it isn't every day that your boyfriend gets shot, and I don't want to outright confirm that he is involved—I say, "He, uh..."
Luckily, I don't get to respond. Dez calls us over, claiming to have urgent information.
"You might want to hear this."
After a pause, Christina urges, "Well, spit it out!"
"Due to the most recent suicide—number sixteen, Harry Stevenson of Dauntless—the Abnegation and other government leaders have declared a state of emergency. The city will now be placed under strict martial law, with soldiers guarding each faction. Nobody will be able to enter or exit a faction without special permission for the time being. This is a temporary arrangement until the government can get a handle on what is happening in regards to the chain suicides."
It is so silent in the room we could hear a pin drop. The reporters can play this lockdown down all they want, but we all know what this means, because we have been here before.
Conflict is brewing.
And just wait until the factions find out that these suicides are involuntary. Eventually there will be someone to point fingers at, and that will inevitably lead to bloodshed.
"Tris," Dez pipes up.
I raise my eyes to hers.
"If you have to get out of the compound...I'll go with you."
"You can't both leave me!" Christina cries out to lighten the mood.
But in reality, we just may have to. So I take her up on her offer because it could come down to it.
"Okay," I say, oblivious to her reason for wanting to leave. "Deal."
xXxXx
TOBIAS POV
Someone bangs on the door, a sign of danger.
Ignoring the searing burn in my leg, I groan and push myself off the bed as quick as possible. For all I know, it could be Tris, despite the fact that Zeke helped her settle down in his mother Hana's apartment not an hour ago. So I hobble over on my crutches with haste in case it is her seeking refuge from the exposed hallway.
I don't expect Hunter, flanked by Dauntless soldiers, to be on the other side of the door.
"Hunter," I say, catching my breath. It really is challenging to get around without the use of one of my legs.
"Four," he greets curtly. "We're going to need to come in and search."
It is unspoken what he is looking for—who he is looking for. I'm glad that Tris left when she did, especially since I am positive that their next stop will be at her friends' apartment.
"Okay," I oblige. With some struggle I move out of the doorway and allow the soldiers to pass.
They begin tearing my apartment open, looking under the bed and in the closet and even searching cabinets in the kitchen that could fit a small girl like her. I stand awkwardly and stiffly, leaning on my crutches for support. The bullet wound has dulled to an ache, but it is still there, gnawing because of my earlier movement.
"I'm going to need you to tell me about Tris Prior's whereabouts," Hunter demands, crossing his arms. "I know you two are very close, against my orders not to fraternize with initiates outside of training."
I shake my head and begin spitting out words that aren't true. Now is the time to lie, if I want to keep both of us safe. "Don't talk to me about that crazy bitch," I huff.
"Excuse me?" He raises both eyebrows at the foul word I attribute to her.
"She has gone completely insane," I fib. "That thing in the news? I have no idea what has gotten into her, but she has finally lost it." I gesture down to my helpless leg and raise my temper. "You see this leg? Yeah, we were having an argument a couple days ago, and I walked away from her, and she shot me with my own gun."
He seems to have a hard time believing me, but I don't worry about it. He won't find any incriminating evidence here because the hard drive is stashed away well, and he certainly won't find Tris.
When the pain flares up again, I work my way over to the kitchen counter where several small tubes of yellow serum lie—the medication I was given. I pick up one and click it into a syringe.
"It honestly doesn't surprise me that she did this. I have been waiting for her to snap since the war, and it has finally happened," I continue.
With a miserable sigh, I insert the needle into my neck and press down on the plunger. The healing serum flows through my veins, speeding up the healing process while simultaneously relieving my bullet wound.
"Then you would help me?" Hunter assumes. "If you know something about the break-in or where she could be, then you need to tell me, Four."
To make my performance more convincing, I play his game. "She was close with Christina, Dez, and Justin during initiation. Other than that, I can't give you anything. Those are the only places I know of that she could have gone to." I don't feel too badly about throwing all of them under the bus. If they are smart, then they will claim to know nothing and will be cleared with a search.
He nods, corroborating my statement. "We are on our way to their apartments after this stop."
When he doesn't mention anything about Uriah, I am less unsettled. It is best that I steer them clear of the Pedrads for now.
Hunter nods at his soldiers, and they begin filing out of the room. "Thank you for the help, Four. We'll catch her soon enough."
I flash a grimace at him, filled with agony. I have been standing for too long. "Anytime," I say smoothly before I shut the door behind him.
Slumping against the door, I allow this information to sink in. If they are really going after Tris this fervently that they would check the apartment of each and every person associated with her, then she is not safe here. She will never be safe here, in Dauntless. And if she can't even show her face, then what is the point of staying holed up here?
As much as the thought pains me, she will have to go. And with martial law declared, the city is tense again, on the verge of another battle. She will be far from my protection, traveling in between factions at least once.
What this means for us is that I don't think we will be seeing much of each other ever again.
I feel my chest constrict at my conclusion.
xXxXx
TRIS POV
I meet Tobias at our secret spot near the bottom of the chasm, the place we first kissed, after two in the morning. Just as he instructed.
He sags against one of his crutches, the other leaning against a nearby wall. He looks haggard, frightened, a combination that I have surprisingly never seen on him.
"Did you pack everything you need?" he asks. Not waiting for a response, he pulls his gun out of his waistband and hands it to me, the metal cool against my fingertips. "Take this with you."
I nod, a lump in my throat, and slide the backpack off my shoulders so I can stuff it in.
We both know that this is the only possible way that I can avoid a prison sentence. It doesn't make leaving any easier.
"Don't tell me where you're going to go," he says as my eyes try to memorize every inch of his face. "If they were to come back to me for information and used truth serum, then it wouldn't be beneficial for me to know where you are. You weren't followed?"
"No. I only brought Dez, who is coming with me." She had explained that now that she has passed Dauntless training, her only goal is to protect her mother and sister back in Amity. That is where we will blend in, among the joyful people who will lie to keep us safe.
We slip back into a solemn silence. My heart races, a sign that tears are on their way. I try to distract myself from the impending split by switching the topic to something more unfeeling.
"Did you sift through the information we got?" I question. I would like to know, since I am not sure I will ever find out without him to tell me.
He shakes his head. "Not yet. I pulled it up once, but there was so much coded language and maps I didn't recognize. It will take a little more time."
I stare at the ground as I kick at loose pebbles, unwilling to let him see my wet eyes.
"This is for the best," he deadpans, and I know that he is being cold to keep me at a distance so that this won't hurt so much. "I had soldiers knock down my door today, Tris. You can't stay here."
The tears fall, steadily dripping onto the stone underneath my feet.
"Who knows, maybe this whole thing will blow over. Maybe another war won't happen. Maybe it will, and nobody will care about what you did."
He is just trying to be optimistic, but it makes matters worse. If another war doesn't happen, I won't come out of hiding. If it does, then it is possible that either of us could die. It is a lose-lose circumstance in which we will not be together.
Or there is a third option: I am imprisoned. Life passes me by as I complete my sentence, and Tobias moves on without me.
"Tris, are you crying? Please don't cry," he chokes out. "This is hard enough as it is."
My sobbing is hideous, my face scrunched up and my cries high-pitched. He pulls me in close and I cling to his strong shoulders and I can't leave him, how could I?
He is the only man I have loved; he is the only man I will ever love.
And now we have to part ways.
"I never wanted this," I hiccup, retracting from his embrace. "Tobias, I wanted to settle down with you, away from all of this mess. I wanted to start a family with you; it's all I've ever wanted."
He swallows, tears gathering in his own eyes. This is the second time I have seen him cry in our time together, the first being when he emerged from the simulation and realized that he had nearly taken my life. "God, I wanted that too," he says, and he can barely get the words out.
For what could be the last time in my life, I stand on my toes and crush my lips to his. My shaking hand slides into his hair, the other around the back of his neck. His lips silence my cries of anguish as I recall every tender moment where we kissed. Our first one was in this very spot, excited and carefree, and looking at us now I wonder how it always spirals out of control.
The world must hate us. We can never be happy.
My sobbing is hysterical when we pull away, frantic breaths entering and exiting while my heart beats incredibly fast. I keep us close together to savor the feel of him pressed against me. He breathes out words into the space between us, but my eyes stay clamped shut and my forehead pressed to his.
"Tris," he murmurs in a low, pacifying voice. "I need you to be brave for me."
"I can't be brave without you," I eek out.
He has been there, my strength, each time I needed him. When he climbed the Ferris wheel below me; when I faced my worst fears; when my parents died; when I killed my friend; when I was tortured; when I suffered from countless nightmares in the aftermath. How do I survive when my reason to fight will be gone?
"You'll find a way."
Exhaustion catches up with me, and I collapse back into him, swaying on my feet. My crying slows as I remember the bittersweet moments between us where the world was ending yet we were okay. That is how I thought it would be: the world going up in flames around us, and even though we had to watch, we could do it together.
"We don't know what will happen," he tries to point out. "Maybe we will meet again."
It is a pathetic attempt at calming me—we know it is false—but I still play along. "Yeah," I whisper. "Take care of yourself, okay?" And I am not just talking about his bullet wound. I hope he knows that when he nods.
His lips call me back again, and I kiss them for only a second, determined not to get attached again so I can't leave. I wipe away the tears on his cheeks with my thumbs, and his breaths are stuttered.
"I love you," he tells me. It is the last thing he says.
I squeeze my eyes shut so I can rein in the pain of this breakup. "I love you, Tobias."
Through the blurry tears, I imprint his face into my memory for the last time. The intensely dark eyes, the long eyelashes that stick together from crying, the eyebrows that are pulled taut, the frowning mouth I know by every brush. I skim my fingers over the faint scar on his chin, and his lips part in response.
It is time to go.
I force myself to step back and pick up my bag. With a glance over my shoulder at his tall, lean figure, I have to hurry up the path and out to the train tracks where my friend awaits so that I don't turn around and run straight back to him.
Our time together was a brief spark, a flash of what could have been. Just as before, we were not fortunate enough to make it to that future. Secrets and war always find a way to drive a wedge in between us, so maybe we wouldn't have made it if I stayed anyway.
I doubt that I will ever see Tobias Eaton again. But at least I had the chance to fix things between us, to make more memories to hold me together now.
I think it is fitting that our love story should begin and end at the chasm.
End of Part 1
xXxXx
(Check out the next chapter for information on the sequel!)
Thanks so much for following and favoriting and reviewing this story! I'm very excited for what this is going to become.