+++ This chapter is a trigger warning witch rated R concepts in a PG-13 written way... don't read if you grow uncomfortable with the themes of assault or abuse— actions in this chapter will be determining the course of this fanfic, so I will put a vague general summary in bold as an author's note after this chapter that should keep you up to date and not confused for the duration of this plot change+++

Chapter 62 - Twice Your Size

— Tris

"Rose?" I tap on the door lightly, mentally hoping I remembered the correct apartment number.

I try the knob and see that it's unlocked but end up stopped by a chair under the doorknob.

I still, listening intently.

I hear someone grunting.

A female softly sobbing.

"Stop." The voice pleading is faint, but I recognize it as Rose's.

"Shut up!" A male voice roars as she squeals.

They haven't heard me.

I pull my knife from my pocket and breathe deep before shoving my shoulder into the door. The chair on the other side gives way and I'm in her small living room.

The male zips his pants quickly and throws on a shirt before moving towards me.

Phillip.

"Help!" Rose squeaks, clearly defeated not only from the tone of her voice but from the looks of her.

"What do you think you're going to do, little girl?" He moves forward, towering over me in height.

I've dealt with with men worse.
He's already done the whole underestimating thing, then he'll swing at my head, not expect my strength, and I'll scare the shit out of him.

As I expected, his fist comes at my face, but I duck, making him miss. I slam my elbow into his chest and kick his legs out from under him. I use both my hands to press his chest down when he falls.

He is surprised by my strength when I knock him onto the floor, landing specifically on the spot on his back I wanted— the wind knocked out of him.

I am able to control his hands, and he seems weak in the legs.

He also does have a minor problem in his pants.

"Please—" He gasps, the knife digging lightly into his neck.

I hear Rose on the bed.

She sounds like she's bleeding.
It's a specific sound that one has when they're bleeding badly and hurt.
It's the way they breathe.

Without even loosing my focus from the man whore under me, I know I need to hurry to help Rose.

I'll get my chance to show female dominance another day.



"Get out of here," I spit on his face. "And never lay a fucking finger on her ever again or I swear."

I slice his neck just enough to prove a point when I release him.
And he runs.

I stand as he goes, slamming the apartment door behind him as he holds his bleeding neck.

I wipe the blood from my knife on my pants when I turn to Rose. Silently I work on the rope bonds on her wrist, and cut the failed gag that fell around her neck.

"You're okay, you're okay," I hold her close as she trembles, sobbing into my shirt.

She's in a bra, and her shirt is torn to shreds on the floor next to the bed.

Her apartment is small: like the apartment that Tobias had before the war.
Her bedroom is kind of the center of her apartment, and isn't a separate room like Tobias and my current home.

I look around and notice that Phillip completely trashed the place.

I don't even want to think about how.

"Rose," I run my hand through her tangled hair. "Look at me." I hold her head with one hand and look into her eyes. There's a deep scrape on her left cheek and her right eye is badly bruised.

"Where are you hurt? There's blood everywhere—"

"I was a virgin," she is shaking severely still in my arms.

Still, no one bleeds like this when—
Shit.

There is glass all in her leg, and I only look up then to notice all of the glass in her living room.

Shattered TV.
Shattered drinking glasses.
Lightbulbs.
Beer bottles.
Plates.
Everything.

The place is wrecked.

"Rose, you really should go to the infirmary." Her leg is bleeding badly.

"No!" She sobs and I hold her tighter.


I understand the feeling in a different scenario than this.

"Okay," I compare my voice to my mothers. They're pretty similar. "Okay." I say again, firmer this time.

Tris, what are you going to do?

I hold the trembling girl for a moment, my mind racing.

"Rose your leg is really bleeding. Where's your first aid kit?"

"Don't leave me!" She grips my shirt.
Again, I know the feeling. The whole world seems to be watching, and yet, you're alone, worrying the one person you don't want will come back.

"Is it in the bathroom?" My voice is soft.
I can't imagine what he did to her.

She nods, releasing my shirt enough for me to slip from her grasp and stand.

"Alright. I'm going to go get it, and I'm going to lock the front door on my way. Stay right here, I'm not going anywhere, other than those two places, alright? I'll talk to you the whole time." I wipe a tear from her cheek and she mumbles an okay.

My foot crunches on glass when I stand and I wince at the sound.

Upon beginning to speak, I decide to stay away from my go to stories— what I remember from my time being held captive and learned to fight men like Phillip.

She doesn't need to hear about my similar horror stories of fighting to the death to prepare for the New York males who crave dominance.

Where I learned to help wrap other people's wounds.

Where I learned what pain sounded like.

"Amar always teases me, I'm sure you've noticed." I make my way to the front door and click the bolt and slide the chain that she has on the door. I put the semi-broken chair back under the knob, assuming it's better than nothing. "About basically anything possible. His most recent frenzy is asking me dumb questions about my life." I cautiously move across the living room to avoid any glass and to what looks like either a bathroom or a closet near her kitchen.

"Hey Tris, how'd you meet your husband?" I mock his voice as I cautiously walk through the trashed home. "Hey Tris, who do you think he likes more: the man who named him or the woman who loves him?" Hey Tris, how tall are you? Hey Tris, are you aware that you're really fucking short?"

I move past the living room and notice a lamp sparking. I directly turn towards it and unplug it along with the TV.

That's the last thing we need right now: a freaking fire.

I resume my course looking for a bathroom, unplugging miscellaneous electrified objects that have been broken and are now fire hazards.

"He and I are similar. He and I both were on a mission when I was at the Bureau, and we both bonded over our friendship, more or less, of Four. The first time I met him he told me he had intentions of being my husband's lover. Well, I mean, he wasn't straight to the point like that, but you get the point," I laugh lightly, remembering that time in the back of that truck during the faction war.

I open the door and discover that the room is a closet, not a bathroom.

"Eventually he pointed out George, a way to show my jealous sixteen-year old ass that he moved on. And from then on it is history." I move across the hall to another door and find that it's the bathroom.

I flip on a light and see that this room is not untouched.

The faucet is running on high and the mirror is shattered.
More glass.
More crunching under my feet.

I turn off the faucet.

"Did your sister ever tell you about the time her and I dressed as Amity and had Marcus Eaton as a getaway driver?" I try to phrase the memory in the lightest, and most humorous way, possible.

I hear a mumble from the other room and am glad at any response.

I go through the drawers as quietly as I can, finding antiseptic, cotton, some bandages, tweezers and some ointment.
It's not enough.

There's two things I'm frantically looking for but cannot seem to find:

Rubbing alcohol and gloves of some sort.

"Rose, do you know if there's ice in your freezer?" I move to the kitchen and dig around, eventually finding a bag.

Out of curiosity, I open her fridge.
There is a bottle of straight vodka that raises my eyebrows for a moment, but then I think of the scenario.

That surely will sterilize things...

I close the fridge and look around and see how much has been smashed and destroyed.

There's a clock ticking in my head.

Hurry, Tris.

Get back to her.

I grab a pair of scissors off the counter, making a mental note to sterilize them with the alcohol.

"Alright, okay," I sit on the bed and deeply consider calling someone to at least have them know we are here.

But Rose throws her head back onto the bed and I know I don't have time to mess around.

I really don't like no one knowing what happened.
And I'm really not a doctor to know what I'm doing.
But I guess I'm better trained from experience than most, even if I barely remember most of it.

"Here," I make a small bag of ice and press it to her swelling eye. I take her hand in mine and put her hand over it to hold it there.

"Are you light headed?" I ask her and she mumbles something and shrugs. I've noticed the blood has stopped seeping as badly now compared to a few minutes ago.
 

I pick up the bottle of vodka and run the liquid over my hands.

"That's not mine," she mumbles and I give her a small smile.
Right now, all that matters is that we have it, not who's it is.

Addressing her leg directly, I see that it isn't as bad as I had feared. There is a few big chunks and some smaller ones I will be able to get with the tweezers, but I just hope it doesn't make her bleed worse.

To the least of my desire, I will be forced to directly touch her blood. I look over my hands one last time to assure I don't have any open cuts or cuticles before I slowly remove the first piece of glass.

"I was on a different side than Four was during the war," I continue the story of Chris and I dressed as Amity. "I'm not sure how much you know about everything that happened, but there was two sides, and I picked the side that wasn't with his mother.

Rose screeches when a deep piece of glass leaves her leg and I curse mentally when it bleeds. I press some cotton to it, my heart racing.

"We we're trying to get the information that Jeanine had before killing her, while the other side just wanted her dead." I pick up the cotton and sigh when I see that it calmed down bleeding. I pick up the tweezers and work on some smaller pieces.

"We had to get out to talk to Johanna, but because of the fence being under tight security we had to dress and act like Amity."

"I've heard this story," she mumbles quietly and I nod.

I am quiet, listening to the apartment and whatever could be out there.

"Where'd you learn to take down a person twice your size?" She asks, her voice small.

I shake my head.
That's not a story for today.
 


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The general summary/ concept of this chapter:

After receiving a text in the last chapter, Tris goes to Rose's apartment and breaks the door down and discovers Phillip assaulting her. Turning to Tris, the tall man makes fun of her, only for Tris to have no problem taking him down and holding a knife to his neck. She lets him go, and tells him to never touch Rose again, and makes an attempt to pull glass from Rose's leg. The whole time she is relating to her paranoia, despair and anxiety because she knows what she is going through even though of never dealing with assault but specifically having experience with strong willed, unkind men before. Tris tells stories about the Faction War, and the first time she meet Amar to try and calm Rose, and also just to talk so she knows that she is there. With the amount Rose is bleeding, Tris knows in the back of her mind that she really has to go to the infirmary, but still respects Rose's sternness against going because Tris too has been in that scenario before.

Thanks for reading!

All the love,
Kat