(A/N, This chapter is crazy long, buckle up.)

1 Week Later

Tobias POV

Beatrice Prior. The name of the woman that stole my heart, saved it, broke it into thousands of pieces, then still managed to take it back and mend it whole. The woman that is so incredibly beautiful, thoughtful, selfless, kind, brave, intelligent, honest, determined and wonderful. She is such a perfect person, yet she comes with the single flaw, that she is insanely, undeniably, awfully, always stubborn.

"BumbleBea, I'm not getting you another pillow." I scold, placing a hand on her covered knee. 

She sighs, crossing her arms persistently, "I want to sit up, just a little more!" 

"The doctor said you have enough, you'll hurt your already bruised abdomen if you go up any further." I counter, standing up from the rather uncomfortable chair. 

Bea huffs, rolling her eyes in an exaggerated manner, "You're so rude, you won't help your own sick girlfriend?" 

"You wouldn't be sick if you would get the surgery!" I point out, giving her a deathly cold glance. 

She looks down, "We already talked about this, I'm not cutting off most of my leg if there is still a possibility that they could fix it in other ways." 

A groan escapes my mouth, my hand instinctively flying up to rub my temple, a stress reaction. "I  know how hard it would be, you'd have to get used to a whole new lifestyle, but we are talking about your quality of life! You'll need multiple surgeries if you go the other route, and you know that there's still an insanely remote chance you'll fully, or even partly, recovery afterwards. Hell, the doctor even said that he doesn't want you to do it this way." 

"Oh not this again," She moans, her voice rising steadily, "I don't give a flying fuck what your, or my doctors opinion is, I don't want to lose a vital limb!" 

"This isn't just about losing your leg, don't you think I wish this didn't have to happen?" I spit, turning away from her eyes. 

"Well it did." She sighs, the previously furious tone of her speech softening significantly. 

I squeeze my eyelids shut, fighting off any reaction from her words, "You know I love you, my tiny little BumbleBea." 

"I know you do. Come here, Toby." Bea motions for me to sit next to her on the humongous bed. 

I, of course, follow her request, trying to take as little space as possible. My arms automatically slip over her frame, which is now withering away with all the medication. "I'm sorry I got angry again. I'm just so afraid." 

She let's a tear fall, squeezing my arm, "I know, you just want me to be okay. Every time you try to talk, I cut you off. It would be nice why you think cutting it off could possibly be better than a possibility of full recovery." 

My eyes lock with hers, a reminder that each word I speak is from the heart, "It's so obvious to me. The chance of you recovering well otherwise, it's just so minuscule. I don't want to see you end up crippled or in a wheelchair or walking around with a cane as a teen. Getting it amputated will be crazy hard, but that's something you have an entire support system helping you with. After a while of physical therapy, you might feel almost like yourself again. You only have a few more days to decide, and I hope whatever you decide, you might be back to normal." 

Bea buries her face in my chest, tears making my shirt damp, "Tobias?" 

"Yes, my love?" 

"I'll get the surgery." 

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Two Days Later

"Tris, darling, I can't tell you how happy I am that you decided to agree with us!" Mom gushes once more, as she has been constantly ever since I told her. 

I roll my eyes, "Is that a good thing? I'm getting my leg cut off." The words sting as they come from my mouth. It hasn't quite come to realization that I'm doing this. It almost feels like a far off dream.

She immediately settles down, "None of this is a 'good' situation, but you'll be happy and healthy once the hard part is over with."

I nod, "That's right. It's all just to feel good again. That doesn't mean I am not going to go through hell." 

Our conversation is ended abruptly when a nurse walks in to the room, dropping everyone to dead silence. "Alright Miss. Prior, it's time to get you prepped and ready." 

Everyone reluctantly exits the room, giving me wishes of good luck and hugs as they go. Tobias is the last, as I'd hoped. He leans over, giving me a kiss on the cheek, "I love you so much, BumbleBea. I'll be with you every step of the way." 

I grin, "Thank you, I love you baby." 

He leaves too, the most hesitant of anyone. The nurse gets me changed, and most of my body clean. It doesn't take long to get to the operating room, my case being considered an emergency still. "Alright, Beatrice. We are going to stick you with this needle, and you'll begin to feel very tired. We have you here, don't worry. When you wake up, you'll be very groggy. Don't be expected to move much at all. It's a process." 

"I'll be okay, right?" I squeak, beginning to get nerves about all of this. 

"Of course, Tris. Do you want us to count down, or just stick the needle in?" 

"Just stick it in, tell Tob-"

I can't say much of anything, as a resident unexpectedly pokes my arm, and I get slight effects of being drowsy. "See you on the flip side, kid." the anesthesiologist says, holding my hand for comfort. 

Everything quickly drifts into a world of pure, timeless darkness.

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It's strange, waking up from a sleep like that. It's almost like a snap, remembering the sharp prick of a needle, then in just a moment you're laying on a bed with your eyes gently fluttering open. 

"She's awake, we're in the clear." A nurse whispers to another, nodding in my direction. 

Everything is still painless, and my body feels like a lump of  nothingness. In another moment, I can't help but let my mind rest. 

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This time, I wake up quicker. Four people are in my room, the ones that are closest to me. Tobias, Christina, Mom and Caleb sit around the room, all seeming as if they are on the verge of an anxiety attack. Every part of my body seems to be asleep, except for my mind. The rest is almost like a motionless mush. 

"I-Is she up?" Christina whispers, her normally pristine self now riddled with stress, no makeup and baggy sweats on. 

It's strange remembering that most of my friends were injured too, caught in the hell of everything that has happened. I try to focus on whatever feelings I can acquire, which seems to just be a thin, rough blanket around my body. 

I can hear a nurse beside me, "Give her a few minutes. Her heart rate went up, so she's probably trying her best." 

Mom sighs, "Remember, it is up to us to help her through this. It was a huge leap, and she's probably going to be insanely stressed." 

I take a deep breath, the air sterile and clear. My fingers shift back and forth, as if to try and gain back full consciousness. My tired eyes just barely open, trying their best to catch a glimpse of the surroundings. The vision seems almost like a dream, like this is reality, but is infected with fantasy. 

"Beatrice, are you there?" Mom's voice echoes in my head, lulling these unconscious thoughts to the edge of sleep. Her voice is so calming, reassuring. It tells you that no matter what, you'll be alright. So, I take comfort in that beautiful noise, and let my already tired body fall back asleep. 

(A/N It's hard to write about surgeries. I know exactly how it feels coming in and out. I know the excruciating pain of recovery. I know things can go wrong and you can't do much about it. On the day after my surgery, they accidentally turned off my pain medication, and I felt every bit of pain from the open abdominal surgery. It's not what TV portrays it as. It's a crazy journey back to normal health. It's painful, stressful and frustrating. Be glad if you haven't had to go through something like that. I may not have lost a leg, but I have a chronic illness I have to deal with for my entire life. I'm sorry this took so long to get out but I don't want to mentally stress myself.)