Chapter 21

-- Tobias

I stop by the dining hall on my way home from the Main Building to pick up some cake for Tris and I. I already missed dinner with her and Thomas, and there's a good chance Tom is already in bed by now anyways, so I figured Tris and I could use a 'pick me up'.

It's been a hard week all around. Tris got her period, making it clear as day that she isn't pregnant, and both of us have been putting in long hours between Josh hiring new ambassadors for her to manage and me dealing with leadership things. To top it all off, I have to give some news to Tris that I'm sure will make it worse.

I know the news has to come from me though. If I wait any longer I worry that she will find out from word of mouth in the Main Building, or maybe even the news that Erudite puts out.

I really hope that the cake softens the blow. I'm not thrilled about the news either, but, well, it is what it is.

"Hey love," I say, entering the apartment. Tris turns her head from the couch where she sits with her laptop on her lap, her hair loose and she is in her pajamas.

God, I love her.
Every day I wake up to her, go to bed next to her, come home to her, and everything in between, I wonder how I got so damn lucky with her.
I get to call her mine, and every day it baffles me.

"Hi," she smiles, although her eyes don't reflect it. All I see is exhaustion and depression in her eyes, and she has been this way all week.

I hate that I have to do this now.

You can't wait, Tobias. It'll be even worse if time goes by and this didn't come from you.

"What's the cake for?" she asks, closing her laptop and following me into the kitchen.

"I figured we both could use some," I say, wrapping my arm around her hip and resting my lips against her's softly, as if she would shatter if I pressed any harder. "It's been a long week, we both have off tomorrow, and well, you don't drink, so cake is the next best thing in my book." I say, pressing my lips to her forehead before releasing her from my embrace.

"You're sweet," she says, leaning against the wall in the kitchen, exhaustion clear across her whole frame. Still in her saddened, exhausted state, she's the most beautiful person in the world.

I just hate that I have to throw this on her now.

I take out a knife, two forks and two plates, then move to the island where I left the cake to cut us both a good sized slice each.

Tris almost crawls up behind me, wrapping her arms around my torso from behind and pressing her face into my back. I hear her exhale, some of her weight bearing on me.

"I love you," she murmurs, her voice barely audible from being pressed to my back.

"I love you too," I say, standing there even after the cake is plated, just enjoying her presence.

There was so many times in my past where I wondered if I ever would get to this point in my life. When I was a child, I never wanted a wife or kids, seeing how my father treated my mother and I. Then Tris came along and all of that changed. But once she was taken from me I was left in this dark hole wondering if I would ever feel love like the love her and I have ever again.

Then she and Thomas were almost taken from me during the New York invasion. Hell, she didn't even know she was pregnant when she herself almost was crushed to death beneath the Pire. I myself was hurt during that attack, but not even close to the extent that she was.

You know how strong she is, Tobias. She can handle this. You've already put it off enough.

"I wanted to tell you about something too," I say, picking up the pieces of cake on plates. She takes the hint and loosens her arms from around my torso and removes her face from my back.

Oh how badly I just want to say "never mind" and just curl up with her and cuddle in bed. Thursday's are like our Friday's when we both have off like this, and I hate that I have to do this now.

"Thank you," she says, pecking my lips when I hand her her cake. She sits down at the kitchen table, immediately taking a bite and smiling at me.

Her eyes are a little happier now: just what I had wanted.

Cake can make anything better, right?

"I don't remember how much you know about what happened on Dauntless' end when we executed the plan to get you all out of that building," I say, her eyes immediately changing to curiosity.

She doesn't respond, so I decide to start from the beginning.

"There was two groups: an Erudite team and a Dauntless team, originally Dauntless was identified by the number 2836 and Erudite was 1236. There was a few other tiny ones, all ending in the number 36, but by the time we got to executing the plan they all siphoned down to these two teams. 2836 was a group of forty that stormed the building, and I'm not sure how many were on the side of 1236, but they stayed back here and were watching over GPS and the cameras we hacked inside the building. They're the ones that spotted your location in that storage closet David dragged you to at the last minute."

She nods, taking another bite of her cake, and I take a breath to take a bite of mine.

"These two teams diffused after the plan was executed and you all returned home. There hasn't been a meeting since, until last week."

"Did you go?" she asks, cutting me off.

"I did, and I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I just wasn't sure if it was going to be a joke, like getting together for old times sake thing, or something legit. I didn't want to freak you out if it was nothing--"

"And you're telling me now so it must've been something," I see the panic in her eyes and I grab her hand, hoping she will let me explain before whatever potential PTSD she has bubbling currently overflows.

"There's been suspecting of people disappearing again. Not crazy like during the war, but just odd deaths. Some were in Erudite labs, some in Amity fields. It could have been things just normal like malfunctions or heat stroke, but they want to open back up the investigation on the building."

She takes her hand from mine, both hands holding her head as her elbows rest on the table.

"They want to make sure that no one is being held hostage there again. And there was talk about sending a search party out there to see if there was any more information they could dig up on New York or the reasoning behind who they did and didn't choose to hold there."

"Why? Because all of our trials weren't enough? West made each person who was rescued go to trial and explain themselves every six months. How is there not enough information?" Her voice is strained and I try to take her hand in mine again but fail. I end up just rubbing her elbow, and it's the most I will get.

"You know that you all don't know everything, Tris. You were prisoner, not involved in some plan. No one can expect any of you to know everything, and I think the group genuinely just wants to make sure the city is safe at all costs. We need all the answers in order to know that for sure."

"I was a part of one of their groups."

"Against your will."

"So?"

"Peter is gone and West is dead, Tris. No one is coming after you anymore."

"Quit that tone with me, Tobias," she says and I didn't realize how strong my voice was getting. "And yeah, it would be nice to think that, but I don't want to get my hopes up. Every time I seem to do that shit hits the fan almost immediately."

I stay quiet for a second, giving both her and I a moment as I rub circles on her elbow.

"I want to be involved in the group so I can protect you and everyone else who was brought home. I won't let them come after you or anyone for anything they find in there."

"What if they die trying?" she finally looks up at me, her arms falling to the table.

"I don't know. I'm really not a fan of it either, Tris. However, I'm not a fan of being left in the dark, and I'm lucky to already have my foot in the door from eight years ago."

She nods, her eyes showing more exhaustion, making my heart ache.

"All of the leaders have already voted across the city for the groups to go ahead and reopen the investigation. I really wish I didn't have to tell you all of this tonight, but I didn't want it coming from someone other than me, even if you are pissed at me."

"I'm not pissed at you," she says immediately. "Just, stressed out."

"I know," I take her hand back in mine, rubbing circles on the back of her soft hand.

We sit in silence for a while, me rubbing her hand and her just staring at one spot on the wall, her mind clearly somewhere else.

"Tell me what you're thinking," I plead, bringing her hand to my lips and kissing it softly.

"What happens if they do find people there? Are they not concerned about it being too soon to getting over this Cold War with the Bureau? Because something like this really seems like it could tip them off."

"Even way back at the original investigation, the Bureau never really took note or seemed to be related to the building in any way. They have that in writing actually, considering communication between us and them was pretty good at that time."

"But I'm thinking worst case scenario, Tobias. I mean, look how they overreacted to Peter pretending to be West. What if they take it as us trying to gain territory or something nuts like that and they put us right back in a legit shelter in place?"

I hum, admitting that she has a good point. The Bureau has always been one to overreact like that, and I genuinely could see that happening if they find out what we are doing, even if the building isn't theirs.

"That's a good thought to consider. I'll bring it up at the next meeting."

"When is the next meeting?"

"They haven't said yet. They were waiting on this vote which just passed today, so now I should be hearing soon."

She nods, picking up her fork to have another bite of cake and I do the same.

"Is that why you have had so many meetings and been on the phone so much at work?" she asks, her mouth full with cake, making me chuckle.

"One of the reasons," I say, knowing it has added to my number of calls and things to do every day. "The other reason I can't tell you, but I will say it's completely unrelated."

She scowls at me and I can't help but laugh. Her eyes still show the same exhaustion she had earlier, but she does show happiness as well.

With some help from George, we have managed to make so many phone calls around the city to find Tris' initiation jacket. Yesterday I was finally able to locate it in Candor, and today on my lunch I ran over to pick it up. They had a few other pieces of clothing they identified as hers after her 'death' that they gave me as well, but told me I couldn't have the knife and clothing she wore when she was brought home from the building for those are still property of the city. I thought about questioning them on it, but decided that Candor has finally released their grip on assuming Tris is guilty when she isn't, and I don't want to make that worse.

I was so exhausted that I left the jacket down in my office when I left work today. The main reason I ended up working so late was because I took an extra long lunch to go get the jacket, therefore I was behind on a ton of paperwork that needed to be sent to Candor on a recent murder trial and some other miscellaneous tasks.

I think that I will give the jacket to Tris tomorrow. She is in my office all the time at the main building, and I don't want to risk her finding it there or me hiding it until our anniversary or her birthday, both of which are not soon.

While I am lost in my thoughts, I see Tris' fork sneak over to my plate and take a bite of my cake.

"Hey! That's mine!" I say and she laughs, putting the fork in her mouth and I dramatically drop my jaw.

"You can get more in the fridge," she smirks, going in for a second bite of mine and I teasingly bat her fork away with my own.

I look over to the clock and see that it's nearing midnight. Not particularly late for Tris and I, especially since we have off tomorrow. I leave my plate unattended and take her empty plate over to the island, cutting a thick slice for both of us to share.

"I talked to my mother on the phone tonight," she says, taking another bite of cake and running her hand through her hair.

"How are they doing?"

"That big house is way too much for her, even though there's five of them," she laughs.

"They have the downstairs area though, right?" I say, recalling the apartment style basement that Caleb exclaimed was a "deal breaker" when they bought the house. That way their parents had their own separate space, but also had the comfort of Caleb and Cara being there if they needed them.

"Yeah, and it's still bigger than what they she is use to at Abnegation," she laughs, going on to tell me the list of chores her mom told her she did along with what she was cooking and all of this stuff.

"I told her about how I can't get pregnant," she says and for a minute my mind panics at the idea of Tris and her mom talking about what her and I do in our free time.

Tris must see my face change because she laughs, gripping my arm a little.

"Okay, I get boys probably don't talk about things like that to their fathers, especially your parents," she jokes and I chuckle, an image of Marcus and I having a conversation like that making my head hurt as I boot the idea from my mind. "But that's just what women do, especially mothers and daughters, and although I love your mother dearly these days, I'm not going to her to pick her brain about it."

Another image pops to my head of Tris and Evelyn talking about us trying to conceive, and although it's not as brutal and absurd as the image of Marcus and I, I still immediately boot it from my mind.

"She suggested I go to my doctor about it if I'm really concerned."

"Like, fertility treatment?" I question, not really sure what she means.

"They can help with things like timing and making sure that everything is okay with me. Mind you, chances are everything is fine since we had no problem conceiving Thomas and I didn't have any trouble during the pregnancy, and it's not like I'm in physical pain or anything."

"It's up to you," I shrug, knowing that I would never tell her what to or not to put her body through.

"I'm just not sure if we're to that point yet," she says, taking another bite of cake. "We started trying around the holidays, and it's the middle of May now."

Two weeks ago we celebrated my thirtieth birthday, and it seriously feels like time is flying by.

"It's been that long?" I say, feeling like it was a week ago that we went and played out in the snow near Amity and the suburbs. That was the beginning of March, two months ago now.

"About six months," she nods.

I know how hard this is for her, but at the same time I don't. I feel the same sorrow and disappointment each time she tells me a test was negative as she does, but she has the added pressure that it is her body. One morning she woke up feeling sick, just a typical flu, but got herself all psyched out that there was even the slightest chance that the test she took the day before was wrong.

"Again, its up to you, baby," I say, rubbing my thumb across her knuckles.

"It's not though, Tobias. This is both of us, and I just wonder how much you still want this."

"You're taking what I'm saying wrong, Tris," I fire back, knowing she doesn't mean what she is saying right now. "I care. I care so much I can't begin to explain. It also is your body though, and I'm not going to tell you to go to the doctor and do all this stuff if you don't want to. My heart shatters just like yours every time I see the negative test in the trash or you tell me about it. Tris, honey, I can't even explain to you how much I want another baby. I know I don't have to explain it to you because I know you feel the same way," I say, seeing tears well in her eyes.

"I didn't mean that when I said it," she says, a tear making its way down her cheek. I wipe it with my thumb and she continues to talk. "I'm just so stressed out and I don't know what I'm doing half the time and when I do know what I'm doing I feel like I'm wrong and--"

"Shh," I shush her, wiping more tears as they fall. She's shaking her head and I am recognizing the signs of a PTSD attack in her before she even realizes it most likely.

She sets her fork down and I notice how her hand is shaking in the slightest, confirming my suspicions of an attack coming on.

"Slow down, Tris," I scoot my chair closer to hers, taking both her hands in mine so she can't hide her face.

She presses her head into the nook of my neck, a loud sob coming from her. I don't release her hands, knowing they will go to her nose and not let go until the attack is done if I let her.

"I threw a lot of information on you tonight," I tell her, her body shaking slightly. "I tried to lessen the blow with cake, and you tried to distract yourself with pregnancy talk, but this is a normal reaction, Tris," I keep my voice as level as I can, although deep down I want to sob with her.

"Slow down, baby," I press my lips behind her ear, peppering small kisses as I rub circles on the back of her trembling hands, trying to give her some kind of sensation that just might pull her out of the attack.

"I've got you. You're safe with me."

"I know," she says, her voice small and defeated.

I decide to let one of her hands go to pull her closer to me, eventually deciding it would be easiest to just pick her up and move us to the bedroom. So I do, with one hand still laced in hers, she holds on to me and I carry her to the bedroom, setting her down on the bed and laying next to her, not letting her hand go the entire time.

"Slow down," I mumble one more time as she presses her face into my chest harder. It was a term a psychologist recommended when she was at the hospital for her most recent surgery, and she explained to them how her attacks felt like she was moving a mile a minute through her past. I'm not sure if it helps, or if Tris even hears me saying it, but I use it anyways.

Eventually she calms, her face not forcefully pressing itself into my chest and her breaths come not as rapidly. I roll onto my back, letting her curl into my side with her head on my chest like she has so many times before.

I don't sleep, but she does, so I am satisfied by that alone.