Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue.

I think it's the first time I have let myself feel the aches and pains in days. There's a swollen part of my jaw, where Tori hit me, and my ribcage stings when I breathe out. Nothing is broken, as far as I can tell. Nothing is broken in me. I can't be sure about everything else.

The Dauntless and some of the Amity Peacekeepers, or whoever else was seeking refuge form the damaged Erudite compound have taken safety inside the walls of the Abnegation's houses. Most of the Candor stayed in Erudite with the Factionless to argue. I am sure that Evelyn and whoever remains of the Faction leaders will organize a meeting soon to discuss, to strategize. But perhaps they won't, and the chaos that ensued from Amanda Ritter's video will hold out until everyone starts shooting at each other. I shudder to think of what desperation may come of this. I am sick of war and I, too, am desperate, but I feel safer here. I have returned to my first room of grey and order, and I find it strangely comforting now. I can almost displace myself and pretend that it's still last year, when I was so unassuming and naïve, living as the Abnegation do, and sleeping easily. I can't sleep.

I am no longer considered a war criminal. Tobias convinced Evelyn that I was acting in the best interest of the Factions and the whole broken society. I am ignored for now, and they will find me soon to question me, I'm sure, but everything is in disarray. I push it to the back of my mind because it's too massive for me to work out alone.

Amanda Ritter's voice is in my head. I'm still studying the shape of her face, and her hair color behind my eyelids. There is something about her that I'm afraid of. I don't want to think about what she said, about the name she gave. I don't want to think about the images on the screen, but they're there. Bodies and burning, all of it.

Edith Prior.

Sharply, I turn on my other side, ignoring the protest of my aching ribs. I let the sound of my breathing fill up the silence until I can almost stay concentrated on that. In and out. If I can keep this up for a while, maybe I will exhaust myself and sleep will finally come.

But something else comes. Someone else comes.

The door slides open slowly, a familiar creek that reminds me of my childhood, when my mother would peek in on us to make sure we were asleep. The memory aches like my ribs.

"Tris," I hear him say. My chest relaxes at the sound of his voice. My body sags in relief. I hadn't realized that I was waiting for him.

"Yeah," I whisper. It's not quite a whisper, it's a breath.

I hear him approach me, so I turn again. I am surprised to see flesh instead of a black shirt. His chest is bare and the ink of the tattoos are contrasted against his pallor. He wears a pair of Abnegation pants, grey with a drawstring, and low on his hips. He's looming over the bed, but it's not menacing. I move against the wall so that there's room in the small bed for him, then I feel his weight and heat against my back. Not facing him, I rest against Tobias's chest, and his arms come around to circle me, his hand flat on my stomach, his other hand tangled gently in my hair. His knees press into my bent ones so that we fit together like a puzzle piece. He smooths my hair back. Sweetness and comfort settle into my stomach as I settle into him. I love for him to hold me like this.

"Are you okay?" he says.

"You know I hate it when you ask me that."

"I know. But I need know if you're okay."

I remember telling him that if a bullet wasn't in my brain, I was okay. Now I'm not so sure that having a pulse means you're alright. I'm not so sure what alright means at all. I know that he makes me feel better, despite everything, so I turn in his arms until his chin is against my chin.

"I'm okay. I will be."

He rests his face closer to mine so that our lips touch, but we don't quite kiss. I feel him sigh against me, and he says,

"I love you."

I pull my cheek up so that it presses against his cheek. In his ear, I tell him I love him like it's a secret. Then, he kisses me.

His lips are all I know, they're all I need to know. I kiss him back while I breathe in his scent, the safety of it falls over me like a veil. I need him so much that it scares me. It scares me that only he can make the world fall away, and even when the world really does fall away, it will still be only him left. I press against him as hard as I can, like I am trying to become him. Our kisses have been tame lately, but now I feel his tongue. Our mouths were only this acquainted twice, before I sacrificed myself to Johanna and in Amity when I was mourning my parents. It's different now, though. I think we're both mourning something.

I let my hands discover his chest, grazing my fingertips on his skin. I think I feel him shiver. His hands are on me, too, under my shirt, coming over my back. My skin feels alive when he touches it, like he is lighting it up. His thumb brushes underneath my breast and I exhale softly. He pulls my thigh up so that it's hitched over him, and I break away from his mouth.

His eyes are still blue, even in the dark, looking into me. The nervous energy that usually follows my when I'm with him like this is throbbing in the background. I have to ignore it, though, because fear is not as important as him. I have had my fair share of fear. Dauntlessly, I pull myself away from him, and he looks a little confused. But then I pull the Abnegation-grey shirt over my head and leave it on the ground, forgotten. I have no bra. My chest is bare like his. I hear his sharp intake of breath, and resisting the urge to cover myself, I lie back down against his chest so that his skin is on my skin. His mouth presses against my hair, trails down the side of my head to my chin, my neck, my collarbone. He kisses my chest, the tops of my breasts. I think he's afraid to go any lower. I want his mouth on me. I just want him closer.

I twist my legs so that the Abnegation sweatpants slip down my body, and I feel his hand help guide them past my legs. With a kick, they are gone and tangled with the sheets. I am in only my underwear.

"Tris," he says. His voice is low, breath rapid.

"Tobias."

When I say his name, his hand comes from nowhere, taking my breast. I moan low in my throat because he's never touched me there. My stomach is exploding with something enigmatic, something that drives me to reach down and run my hand along the bottom of his stomach. Back and forth, across his muscles. I don't know where my bravery comes from, I never knew where any bravery came from, it always just seemed to appear and drive me to do crazy things.

"Do you…?" Tobias's voice is low and gravely, distracted. I feel his thumb brush against my breast again and it causes me to squirm with excitement.

"Yes," I tell him. I don't know what I'm agreeing to exactly. I don't know what it's going to be. It's more than sex, more than feelings. I want him.

"Tris."

He keeps saying my name, and I don't know if he's warning me or urging me.

"I love you," I say again. He responds my kissing me, turning me over in his hands so that he hovers on top of me. I feel him against my skin, I feel something against my hip. I know it's him, and the unknown place between his legs that responds to me. Shakily I reach down and touch him there, through the pants. He moans in my mouth and the feeling in my stomach explodes again with vigor. I touch him again.

"Are you sure?" he whispers, panting.

"I don't want us to be apart again," I tell him.

"We won't," he says, and using his knee, he parts my legs so that they are wide and open to him. "We won't."

We kiss and breathe, and push fabric away. Soon, there's only skin, only him and me. His lips kiss my breasts again, and I find myself lifting my hips up to his, pressing myself against him. He breaks away from my chest and looks up. The hair he's let grown out flops over one of his eyes, but he's earnestly looking at me, blinking, the rise and fall of his chest fast. He looks eager, like how I feel.

"Tell me to stop and I will," he whispers, pulling himself back to where our faces meet. He rests his forehead against mine. I feel him shift, and I rest my hand on his lower back where the Amity tattoo is. I press my other hand between my legs, touching him and me. He's silky in my palm, and he gasps a little. I let go, I rest my hand on the place on my body where everything feels wound tight. I have only touched myself there a few times, the few tense times in Dauntless when I was alone.

He lets out a throaty sigh when he sinks into me. I gasp because it's a quick, sharp pain I haven't felt before. He tenses, stops immediately, frozen inside me and trying to catch his breath. I let the moment wash over me, the discomfort, the strange fullness. I have thought of this moment and feared it, feared what it meant. I no longer feel fear, just want. Just need.

"Don't stop," I say in his ear. I'm shy to tell him what I want, but I think we will figure it out. I can ignore the pain, it's almost nothing compared to what I've felt before. I have forgotten the ache in my ribs, I have forgotten my sore jaw, I have forgotten everything. There's just him and me.

"God," he gasps, going into me more. He hisses my name.

Soon, his hand covers mine between our legs, he presses his fingers in the place that is electric, right above where we're joined, and I lift my hips to meet his next movement. He moves circles with his hands, and moves gently inside me. I squeeze my thighs against him to curb everything. My mind is clouded with the sensations, I try not to yell out, but it feels uncontrollable. I hear his breath and the deep, visceral sounds from the back of his throat. His forehead presses roughly against mine, our breaths mingle into fast huffing.

His eyes and my eyes meet in that moment, that moment when the friction builds and builds. I think he tries to say something, but then he buries himself in me once more, and stops, his free hand squeezes my thigh and he gasps and moans at the same time, shuddering. I feel it, I feel him let go inside me. My whole body is lit like fire, waiting to burst. He stays there, breathing, collapsed against my chest. I know he has already gone over the edge, but he keeps the movement of his hands between my legs, on the spot that sings for him, faster than before. It comes suddenly, the moment when I let go of the hold he has and I explode, and everything is a mixture of lights and spots. I think I stutter out his name, but it gets lost in the moment.

He pulls away from me gently, trying to hurt me. Our arms grasp at each other, and I'm cradled against him. We try to slow our breathing. He kisses the side of my head, smooths my hair back again, and I am sure that I will never love anything as much as I love this.

We're very quiet until our hearts are slow and steady. In the Abnegation room, we are the only color and the only sign of life. He nuzzles his cheek against my hair, kissing it, breathing in. I would have never dreamed of doing that in this bed before, I would have never dreamed of a life like mine, not when I was just a confused stiff.

At night, I would sometimes hear the self-indulgent sounds of my parents lovemaking through the walls. It was rare, and it was forbidden for me to even acknowledge it, but I always found the thought of my parents love comforting. They were my parents, a unit together. I miss them badly, I miss them and I close my eyes and try to remember our family the way I used to remember it.

I don't know what my family is any more. I don't know where the light in my mother's eyes went when it left her. I don't know where my father's scent went. I don't know what Caleb feels as a my brother, as a traitor. I don't know what Amanda Ritter did to make this whole life a lie. I sight softly, turning to Tobias, and I say what I have been wanting to say all night, since the video played on those large screens above us all.

"She looks like my father."

Tobias looks longingly at me, his finger brushes against my cheek softly. His eyes know me well, know what I mean when I say things. I bury my head in the crook between his neck and chest. I think he might say something, but instead he just breathes, matching his inhales with mine until we are almost like one breathing entity. In and out. My eyes close until there's just darkness and the sounds we make in the room. I don't know what tomorrow will be, but I will wake up next to him, and I think that's enough for now.

And I think I will sleep tonight.