Epilogue

—Third Person

The second the drug hit her veins she was unconscious: fifty percent from the pain, fifty percent from her body receiving the narcotic.

She was gone the second that drug entered her system. It circulated in her body, created a comfort that eased the pain she was having.

All those years she had so much widespread pain.
They told her it was mental— all in her head.

But the facts were that she was suffering from drug addiction, and her body was constantly wanting this drug.

And now her body has it.
Now her body is happy.
But she is not.

+ + +

"There's no operating rooms available."

"It doesn't matter, this is inoperable. Do you see that?"

"What the hell happened to her?"

"You've never heard of Beatrice Prior? She was a Dauntless rebel in the Faction War, deemed genetically pure by the Bureau, and somehow her death was faked by the Bureau. She was kidnapped in that building and being trained to be sent to New York. See the branding on her palm, and the lines on her forearm? She was shot, I want to say, seven times in the leg while imprisoned, and brought back to the city with a rusty knife lodged in her leg. It's a miracle her leg was saved— yet alone still functional so many years later."

"How do you know all of this?"

"How do you not? She's only like the most controversial person in the city. She's the reason the New York people swarmed the city: they wanted her back. The training she received from that program trained her to stay alive against all odds. Forget Dauntless initiation; if this girl wanted, she could be a killer."

"She's not a girl. Dave, this woman has a husband and son, and she's the head ambassador of Dauntless. She's twenty-eight, for God's sake! She's three years older than you!"

"Where is New York anyways?"

"About eight hundred miles East of here, give or take."

"Why her?"

"Probably her genetic purity. She's the only one that knows the specifics of the program, and who knows, from her trials she doesn't even know much about it. She was kidnapped and forced to be a part of it. It's not like kidnappers have to tell their captives what they're doing, I mean, think about it Jan."

"What was the program for anyways?"

"Basically a fertility pool. New York is a mess— the city is dominated by high testosterone males and has limited to no females. Guess the plan was to train women to be strong enough to deal with those males and just reproduce. It's disgusting."

"What's New York now?"

"Just that. Nothing changed because the program fell through. Everyone thinks she might know why, but because of her memory damage from such a few a severe concussions she never was able to tell in a trial when questioned because she doesn't remember knowing."

"No, that's not true," a fourth Erudite joins the banter. "Dauntless visiting week last year she shared that she caused the program to collapse. She stabbed the ambassador of the program in a fight that was suppose to kill her but instead she killed him. She said it was the last thing that she remembers, probably because she herself was no longer part of the program after a decision like that. It's amazing they let her live after that."

"Damn."

The bunch is quiet for a small amount of time. All three intern surgeons, they are just waiting around for someone to give them direction.

"And they can't save her leg? After all of this she's gone through? After all she's done for, well, all of us, really?"

"Look at the imaging. It's been torn too many times: I mean, she's had five surgeries before one held enough for her to use crutches. There was a minor tear just two years ago that healed itself, but this just looks way too far gone. There's no clean margins, and the margins that once were clean are now shredded."

"There has to be a way..."

"Scott has been on her case since the beginning; since the day she ripped that knife out of her leg. If there's a way to fix it, she'll know how."

+    +    +

"Four you've got to calm down." Shauna tenses through the phone at him. "Thomas is fine, Indy is fine, they're both here. Tris is an strong independent woman, and she will be okay. You have to trust me."

Four is silent on the other line. He tried calling Amar first, who originally left him a message telling him to call him back. He didn't answer, so he called Zeke, whose phone was answered by Shauna.

Now he stands, way out at the wall, waiting anxiously for the train that should be coming within five minutes.

"Chances are they won't let you see her when you get there. She'll probably be in surgery."

"Chances are," he spits, his anger clear. "That it's inoperable."

"Okay, you don't want to be reassured. Whatever." Shauna is petty; angry that he's being so rude when she's just trying to help. "I'll be here when you suddenly decide you feel bad about talking this way." She hangs up the phone, turning to Thomas who sits on the couch in her living room. She puts on a smile for the boy, not wanting to make him more upset than he already is.

"Your Daddy's coming home!" She knows how much he has missed his father, and hopes to cheer him up.
His expression doesn't change as he depressingly wheels a red car back and forth on a pillow.

Shauna sighs, unsure of what to say or do, and still angry at the way Four talked to her on the phone.

"You know, your Mama makes your father a totally different person." She shakes her head, basically talking to herself. "She changed him, and for the better. I knew him a few years before I met her, and he just was not too nice of a guy. But then suddenly your Mom came around and, well, she made him a nice guy."

And then your Mama got taken away from him, and the not nice guy came back around. She thinks to herself, the small child crawling into her lap. And then she came back, and he came back.

Now she might be gone for awhile, and we might have to deal with the not so nice guy for a while.

He means well— he worries about her.

She is his weakness.

She makes him smile.
She makes him genuine.
She makes him be the kind of guy worth being around.

And when she is taken from him, even if it wasn't at the fault of anyone, he spirals emotionally.

I've seen it before.

I know I will see it again.

+    +    +

"What is she on currently?" Dr. Scott stands over the woman, inspecting the injured leg. "Why is she shaking?"

"Fluids and we gave her medication to help clot the bleeding in her leg which has seemed to help."

"No, she's shaking. What did you give her? Neither of them would make her shake like this."

"Ma'am, that was it."

"Who did this?" She motions to the drain in her leg.

"It was there when she arrived, so I assume Dauntless doctors."

"Give me her file, and call their Infirmary. I need to talk to whoever worked on her."

The nurse nods and excuses herself.

"God, Tris." She shakes her head, lightly feeling the bulging, clearly torn muscle, pushing at her skin from underneath. "What the hell did you do?"

She flips through the pages of the file, noticing that the Dauntless file was sent over with her.

She sits next to the bed, the heart monitor beeping continuously and steadily. She lays out the file on the small end table and sees the Dauntless file showing her height, weight, age and blood type along with family contacts.

The only important information it says is that she is to be sent immediately to Erudite if an issue arises— a note Marie herself specifically requested over six years ago now.

She looks back over at Tris's unconscious form.

Why is she shaking? She asks herself.

She now pulls out the Erudite file and places it next to the Dauntless one.

The Erudite one is clearly updated, maybe too much.
Each possible mental illness she has ever been considered to have is on the sheet, along with each injury, each surgery, and each medication she was ever given.

She looks back over to the woman lying in the bed.

Heart rate is nearing 150.
The body is in trauma, so okay, understandable.

She's unconscious.
But the body has lost a lot of blood, so okay, also normal.

She's shaking.
That is unanswered.
The body gives no explanation.

Her temperature is high, over one hundred and two.
There is sweat all over her.
The body is trying to cool itself.

Marie touches her arm and feels the goosebumps she didn't notice on the ill woman.

What?

She turns back to the file and looks feverishly through them.

She's missing something.
She knows she is.

And she finds it.
A small note, back from over six years ago.
She didn't think she was right when making the assumption back then.

She looks at the Dauntless treatment list.
Two bags of O negative
The drain to her leg
And they pushed 35mg of oxycodone.

And nearing seven years ago she made the assumption:
Possible forced drug abuse. Trying to stay away from opiates if possible.

"Oh my God." Her hand clasps over her mouth when she realizes what has happened.

Doctors just caused her to have a drug addiction relapse.

+ + +

—Four

"Can I see her?" I gasp when Dr. Scott finds me in the waiting room.

"Four we really need to talk—"

"After. I just have to see her."

"As you wish. She's just coming around waking up, her body finally slowed bleeding so she was out for a little while. I'll tell you after."

She knocks softly on the door and enters with me. I can't control the tears when I see her.

Her leg is exposed, and it's bad.
I've seen it injured before, but not this serious since the day she was brought back to the city.

"Oh, Beatrice," I sigh, cupping her pale face in mine. I expect her to be cold, but her face is burning up.

Her eyes open a sliver to meet mine and I get just a glimpse of her blue-grey orbs.

She smiles weakly and I take her frail hand in mine, pressing my lips to her forehead.

She looks like she tries to tell me something, but she can't get the words out.

My heart is shattering to see her this distressed again.

I can't believe we're back here, with her almost dying in a hospital bed again.

"T—" she weakly opens her eyes again before her head rests back into the pillow. She breathes deeply and I find my hand back on her cheek again.

"Shh, you're alright. I've got you. Breathe." I stroke her cheek as her breaths are heavy and forced.

What's wrong with her?

I can tell she's slipping back to being unconscious, and my heart aches at the thought of her leaving me, even if it's just for a sleep.

"When I asked you how you ever fought through the shit that you have, you told me that you did it all for me." I swallow hard, blinking back tears.

"All for you, Tobias, is what you said." My voice cracks.

I see her slipping; her eyes barely open as they look up at me.

"Tris, I would do the same. I would go to hell and back, do whatever it takes to be with you, to get back to you, to call you mine forever. I would do it all."

"All for you, Beatrice." I can't control the tears.

"All for You."