Soli Deo gloria
DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Divergent or Insurgent. YES I GOT AN IDEA FOR A FANFIC FOR THIS BOOK SERIES YESSSSSSSS. This takes place immediately after the first chapter of Insurgent.
Tobias is practically perfect in every way.
Thanks for reading!
~ Tobias Eaton's point of view ~
Tris sets the cup, now empty, onto the table, and looks shaky. The stuff is supposed to help her fall asleep, and it does its job as her shoulders slump slightly and her eyes flicker from open to closed and back again. She almost falls, but I reach out and catch her, my hands fitting around her small waist.
"Tobiasssss," she says sluggishly, her voice already filled with sleep. I say nothing, knowing that she can barely hear me, and hope that no one catches my name as I gently lead her, whispering despite myself, "Come on. Let's get you a room."
An Amity woman points us to a room for her in the guest dormitories, and smiles pleasantly at us as we walk past her. Tris leans against me as I hold her up. I frown as I wrap a hand around the doorknob and get us through into the small room. Everyone around here is so cheerful. It's hard to see what they have to smile about around here. Things have been so busy and dangerous tonight. It's hard to think that anyone else is happy. It hurts and angers to know that other people are happy when there are people dead, people waking up to find themselves murderers.
I let Tris slip onto the bed, and reach for the blankets. She's still conscious, though, and sits up a second before her head fall onto the pillow. I lean over Tris for a moment, setting a blanket around her. She looks so small, and I can vaguely see the bandage around her arm, which I quickly cover with the blanket. I'll see if I can get some pain killer for that shot tomorrow. It hurts to know that her small body is in pain. She doesn't let on, doesn't like to complain. But I know.
She frowns slightly in her sleep, and I reach out and gently move the blonde hair over her cheek and eye to the side of her head, revealing her face. My fingers trace over her cheek, her eyebrows, her forehead. Sometimes, no, most every time I see her, she amazes me. She doesn't impress me; I've seen people do what she does. But like tonight, when she went in for the hard drive, she managed to save me. Get me back. And she's probably the only person who could.
Her parents died tonight. Her brother is with us. He hasn't stopped crying, though he mostly keeps silent about it. Peter is with us. I feel like punching him in the face, but, seeing as Amity doesn't tolerate violence, I reside by their rules while I'm here.
Marcus is here.
I don't look at him. I try to pretend he isn't there. There's always a feeling of him being in every shadow, though, like he's always lurking. Always watching. Always ready.
I gulp and gently lean down and kiss Tris's left cheek. Her head is turned so that that cheek is facing me, and I linger a second or two before I pull back, my fingers gently running through her wispy, tousled hair, her breathing slow and even. She feels warm against my fingers.
She's the one thing I feel love from.
"Sleep well, Tris," I whisper. I look at her a second longer before I stand up and leave, turning off the light and closing the door behind me.
I'm caught by a man in the hall. Caleb. He looks like an Amity, almost, wearing a bright yellow shirt. He looks at me, startled, and holds out a dark red T-shirt to me. I stare at it. It looks like the color of blood.
"This is for you," he says quickly, his voice shot.
I look at it a second more and take it from him. He gulps, and says, "You seeing my sister?"
I look from the shirt to him in an instant and say, "Yes. I am."
He doesn't know what to say to that, and so says nothing. He just sort of nods and says, "There's an Amity assigning rooms in the dining hall."
"Okay. Thanks," I say, and he turns and goes down the hall. I turn on my heel to head back to the dining hall, taking off my Dauntless shirt and slipping on the Amity one. It feels weird, to look so bright.
An Amity smiles at me again. "There's a room for you down that hall, at the third door."
I nod a thanks and turn to leave, and he's there. He's talking to Johanna, his arms folded over his chest. He looks almost calm talking to her, but he's deceiving. If there is one thing that Marcus is good at, it's deceiving. Another thing is using a belt.
I gulp and turn away. It's sad, almost, for my own father to be one of the only four fears I have. I shake my head and find my room, turn the light on, fall onto the mattress. There's no lock on the door. I'd prefer it. But the Amity are share and share alike. They've practically no privacy. I just shove the dresser that's there in front of the door. I stand back and look, hoping that it'll work. Keep him away.
I should probably fall asleep. I can't. There's too much running through my brain, from what Jeanine did to the homeless Abnegation to the serum in me to Tris being shot to the us being here in Amity. I look around the room, and feel cold. Angry. Hatred. My hands grip the sheets, and I know one thing, one thing for certain. No matter what the Amity decide about what to do with us, we can't stay here. Not for long.
Yeah. A couple of more days and then we're gone. Where to? Don't know. Away from here. And preferably without Marcus in tow.
Thank you for reading!