Chapter 1

— Tobias

"Why is she shaking?" I demand, walking into the doctor's office.

"Four, her leg is bad. I— I'm not sure what to do at this point. I want to readdress tomorrow once some of the swelling goes down and see if surgery is even an option at this point because—"

"Why is my wife shaking like a leaf, Dr. Scott?" My voice turns to a growl.

She exhales, clearly stressed, leaning her head in her hands.

"Marie." I insist, my voice still low.

"I was hoping I was wrong six years ago when I made the assumption about her being forced under the influence of drugs when being part of the New York Program, Four. God, I wished, prayed that I was wrong."

I take note of her showing age. When I first met Marie, she was a young doctor, but it is clear that the stress of her job has taken a toll on her body.
But not her brain.
She is just as intelligent now as she was then.
She didn't do this.

"I had it in her file," she shakes her head in disbelief, looking up at me. "It was too late by the time she got here. She already was given a full dose, and now her body wants more."

"Which opioid was she given?" I demand, my heart in my throat.

.
"Tobias, I was so high. I couldn't see, I couldn't even feel my fingers touch my own skin." She shakes, sharing the memory with me.

I hold her tight under the comforter of our bed, her head on my chest, her tears staining my shirt.

"There was eight of us. Four pairs each received a different colored bag, I don't know how often. They— They would—" her sob cuts off her sentence and I squeeze her tighter.

"I'm here," I tell her. "It's alright."

"We were chained to the hospital beds so we couldn't take the IVs out. Tha— That's why I cant resist t-to take out the IVs at the hospital b—"

"Because you never could." I finish her sentence as she sobs, nodding to confirm my continuation of her sentence.

I shake my head.
I wish I could kill all of them.
Each person that caused her this pain.
Kill David again and again.
Watch Derrick slowly and painfully bleed out for hours.

"After the bags were basically empty, we were thrown in the fighting ring," she lightly shakes as she speaks. "Out opponent was not under the forced influence, and we had to fight. Unable to see, feel, hear or have really any senses from being so fucking high, and we didn't ask for it Tobias!" She sobs again and I feel myself resist the urge to vomit.

"It wasn't enough for them. The fights were boring, because half the time the person who was given the opioids would just fall over and be unable to stand. They would just be beaten to death by the sober opponent, and being so numb there was no pain to be screaming about," she exhales.

I stay quiet, giving her the time to compose herself.
I've told her over and over again that she doesn't have to tell me anything, and if she chooses to, she always can stop. It helps her sometimes, just telling what happened, even though it is extremely difficult for her to relive.

"Most of them died," she says abruptly. "They continued to increase everyone's milligram dose: seeing how high they could get until either seizing, ending up in a coma, or just the stress of standing to get to the fighting ring caused some to drop dead out of nowhere."

"You should have never had to experience this."

"I was the last one to live. Tobias, I survived, and the rest didn't. Even the other woman given the same amount of oxycodone as me didn't make it. She was taller, heavier, stronger an— and its just not fair!"

I give her time again, still resisting th surge to vomit.
I just can't believe what I'm hearing.
This is sick.
.

"What opioid was she given?" I stand, my hands on her desk, my voice still low.

I can't loose Tris.
I've lost her before.
I don't care about being selfish; I can't go through that again.

"Oxycodone."

Impulsively I turn away from the desk. I have a strong urge to punch something— to scream at the top of my lungs until I can no longer speak.
I move away from the desk because I'm worried the dark side inside of me will try to hit the kind doctor; the doctor who has been so kind to us all of these years, whom is directly across from me.

"Who?" I feel my blood boil, my fists clenched at my sides so tight I feel I may be breaking the skin.
Someone did this to her.
Someone has to know they can't just get away with shit like this.

"It was in her Erudite file," she shakes her head. "Dauntless uses their own files, and for some reason they didn't incorporate our files like they said they did over six years ago."

"Who did this?" I insist, my voice lower than ever.

"She was treated at the Dauntless Infirmary before she was brought here. It was in her file for her to not be treated elsewhere than Erudite Medical, but she was bleeding badly and they made a judgement call—"

"Oxycodone does not have to do with the prevention of bleeding out! I don't need a fucking medical degree to know that, Marie."

"Four you need to calm down."

"I need a name. Who treated her at Dauntless?"

She's silent, and I'm unsure if she doesn't know for sure who did treat her or if she is trying to protect whomever did.

"Don't want to tell me? I'm a leader, I'll find it out myself." I storm out of her office and through the hospital.

Conveniently it starts to rain, no, pour the second I exit the hospital.

Also continently, the light of the train is clearly visible and coming towards me just as I contemplate using my built up anger and adrenaline to run to the Dauntless compound from here.

I use to never be weak.
Four: four fears.
He didn't have any weakness in his soul.
A mysterious person that no one truly knew; who had a life he wanted to leave behind.
He didn't care about anyone.
He didn't have compassion.

I know she is my weakness.
She makes me glad I no longer am that same 'Four'.
She brings me to Earth.
She keeps me from being like this.

She gave me a life I never imagined I would ever want;
I have a family.
I've never had a family before this.

And now I have it.
And I selfishly don't want to let go of it.

+ + +

I allow anger to cloud my vision and thought process as I navigate the Dauntless Compound on autopilot.

I'm an animal who has caught a scent of prey.
I'm on the hunt.

Someone hurt my wife; my Tris.
And in doing this, they have threatened me.

The legendary Four does not allow people to threaten him.

I burst through the infirmary door, the steel clanking loudly as it hits the adjacent wall when it swings.

The woman at the desk looks at me startled; seeming hesitant as if she should open her mouth or not.

"Tris Eaton was here earlier. Who treated her?" My voice is low, contradicting the banging entrance I made.

"I— let me check." She ducks her head down to the pile of papers on the desk below her, her hands frantically shaking as the lack of organization slows her process.

I tap my foot, crossing my arms; giving her a fair amount of time to look through the mess.
I don't have fucking time for this.

"For heavens sake," I slam my hand down on the countertop and welcome myself back into the section where patients are treated: slamming that door upon my entrance as well.

I hear the woman at the desk tell me that I am not allowed back here, but it's not like it matters to me.

"Maybe they'll have more organization back here to know who the hell did this." I mutter, rolling my eyes as I walk down the rows of cots where curtains block patients being treated.

"Sir, you can't be back here." A tall male with tanned skin stands an inch higher than me.

"Well," I swallow bitterly. "Maybe you can help me. My wife was treated here today, and I'm looking for who her doctor was."

"Tris Eaton? Well sir, there was more than a few of us on her case. I mean, she needed an army just to get in the ambulance to be brought to Erudite and—"

"Quit rambling and being me to someone who was in charge of her case!" I lower my voice, asserting my dominance on the situation. A woman with bleached hair comes out from behind the curtain of a patient, and her fear does not hide from her face despite her efforts to do so.

"I was in charge of her case. What seems to be the problem?" She is polite, but I don't agree with polite for a correct tone of this conversation.

"What seems to be the issue?" I spit, laughing out of control. "The issue is directly in her file. She is to only be treated at Erudite because she has specific needs. How can you not follow simple orders?"

"I was trying to save her life. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I thought that that might have been priority in the situation where your wife was bleeding out."

"You gave a woman who was forced to become addicted to opioids oxycodone." I can no longer control my temper.

"What?" The woman flushes. "Her file, it didn't mention—"

"Her Erudite ones did."

"I— oh my gosh, I'm so sorry. I—"

"Yeah, you better be." I leave the way I came, worried I will punch this innocent woman in the face.

She didn't know.
She was just trying to save my wife.
She didn't mean it to turn south like this.
But I don't care.

My blood is boiling. My hands sweating.
This is not right.
This shouldn't have been able to happen.

My mind flashes.

I'm a leader.
I shouldn't have allowed for this to happen.
All medical files should be the same between factions.
I could have been promoting this and influencing it all this time. I do have the power to do so.

I could have prevented this

I could have stopped this.

This is my fault.

"Daddy!" I'm snapped from my thoughts when I see my small, blond two year old running towards me. Shauna follows a few feet behind, her daughter in her arms.

"Thomas!" I swing him around, holding him tight in my arms.

Instantly, my anger is gone.
The gleam in this little boy's eyes when he sees me is all it takes.

I have finally found myself a family.
And I will not let anyone or anything rip it away from me.