Chapter 27

--Tris

I sigh, taking a seat on the train at Erudite med, trying to remember if my parent's and brother's house is three stops or four away from here.

Hopefully I'll just recognize the stop when I'm there.

This morning I had my yearly appointment with Dr. Scott for my leg. It still bothers me a good amount, and she took a look as she does every year. Everything looks like it is suppose to, or the way she stitched it years ago, and she said my pain is from nerve damage that could go away with time, or get worse, or stay the way it is.

She told me there isn't too much she can do, but if the pain becomes unbearable to let her know and she can look into some newer studies.

I'll put up with a whole lot of pain before I become a lab rat to the Erudite medical center once again.

Sometimes it takes all day to get in with the doctor, but luckily today was quick. I still took the entire day off, so I texted Cara who is home and she offered for me to stop by. We have been meaning to talk on the phone about Christina anyways, and since I am so close already being at Erudite I figured what the hell.

The train speeds out of the city and towards the suburbs, where there is green grass, trees growing tall, and houses popping up what seems like overnight. The privacy out here is so much nicer than inside the packed city, but I know Tobias and I would hate the commute into the Dauntless compound every day to do our jobs. Although having a bigger place and some privacy would be amazing, the convenience of living in the compound that we work in, and having all of our friends right there too makes it not worth moving.

I begin to recognize the area as the train slows to the stop. I stand, holding onto the rail as the train comes to a halt and the doors open on the left side.

A couple months ago there was a petition to have the trains not stop after ten at night, for dauntless thrill seekers to get the opportunity of jumping on and off of the trains once again. Sadly but expectedly this was overthrown by the other factions, and the train will continue to stop for one minute at each stop, giving everyone the opportunity to use the trains at all hours of the day.

Some dauntless are very upset by this decision of course, and although I do miss the times of the train whooshing by and running to catch it, I also could never see myself using the trains with Tom. Since I don't know how to drive, and Tobias and I rely on borrowing Amar's truck to get us places, that would make navigating the city super difficult.

I walk through the neighborhood that Caleb, Cara and my parents live in. Gorgeous new sidewalks, huge grocery stores, shopping centers, and kids playing in front yards. The only thing that is mildly unpleasant is the construction sounds of the three new houses being built the next street over from them.

Maybe one day one of those houses could be yours, Tris.

I walk up the steps to the porch of their brown house and knock twice. Dauntless customs cause me to almost walk in, but I remember that the rest of the world doesn't work that way and wait, hearing footsteps come to the door.

"Hey!" Cara greets me with a smile and hug.

"I feel like I haven't seem you in forever," I return her embrace. The last few times I have seen my parents or Caleb she has been working or busy out of the house.

" I know! Come in, come in," she moves aside, closing the door behind me.

"Is anyone else home?" I ask, wanting to be sure I don't miss saying hi to anyone.

"No, just me today. Bea's still at school, Caleb's at work and picking her up once she's out, and your mom is out volunteering with that group of women she always goes with, and I have no clue where your dad is," she laughs at the end and I join her, knowing I know that my father is always out and about.

"I'm gonna cut the small talk," I take a seat on her couch and she sits in a chair facing me, "When's the last time you talked to Christina?"

"I went to her and Will's place a couple weeks ago to have dinner with Bea because Caleb was working late. Remember? They invited you and Four but you both were working late or had other plans or something."

I nod, remembering that Tobias and I just did not feel like attending a dinner that night and blamed it on working late. Cara continues elaborating.

"She was acting normal, and the dinner was nice. Bea and I hadn't seen Layla in forever, and I was beginning to feel like a shit Aunt for missing so much of her childhood. Christina commented on it too, which I mean she's Christina, but over the years that's something she would have a filter for."

"What did she say?" I ask, wondering how harsh she was.

"I don't remember exactly, but it was something about never making time to come see them, and how you and I always manage to make time to see each other. She was just petty, but reality is you and Four are always out here because your parents are here. She's bringing Layla to see her parents in Candor all the time, they could come out here to see us just like you do."

"So Will was upset too?"

"No," she says immediately, shaking her head, "He was with me correcting her, and she didn't like that so he stopped. He was acting just as weird as her. He'd never let someone walk all over him like that, Tris. I always knew he would transfer to Dauntless, he's always been rough on the edges and one to bite back.

I nod when she speaks, remembering the Will I met when I was sixteen. Since the war he has been much more quiet and a pushover. I know he has dealt with a ton of PTSD and anxiety like myself, but that doesn't give Chris a reason to walk all over him.

"And it's not like we all live close to each other. The dauntless compound is a solid fifteen minutes away, you understand it. I don't expect either of you to come out here often and visit as a family, but why is she expecting the opposite from me?"

"Because she's Christina," I scoff, chuckling.

"Yeah, but she's just being illogical. She's always had a little more sense to her than this, don't you agree?"

That's the thing. Cara has never dealt with an angry Christina. I have dealt with angry Cara and Christina. They're both different when they're mad, and Christina definitely doesn't use logic in her anger like Cara does. I just don't know how to explain that to Cara without sounding like an absolute ass.

"Yeah," I agree hesitantly, "The issue right now is there's no reason for her to even be angry. Layla's not that old yet, right?"

"She just turned one not that long ago."

"Christina's always just been very jealous. Her younger sister is one of my ambassadors and she rants about it all the time to me. And I've seen it firsthand, you too now."

"You want to know the weirdest thing?" Cara leans forward, perching herself on her elbows that now rest on her knees. "Her and I had this conversation, or one very similar, right after Layla was born. She was like six months at that point and apparently I wasn't visiting enough. Or when I was visiting Caleb wasn't and we weren't being good aunts and uncles. Like sorry I'm not Rose living in the same compound I--"

"Wait," I cut her off. "You said you and her had this argument before?"

"Yeah, almost identical conversation. Why?"

"Rose and I have had the same issue with her," I run my hands through my hair, beginning to process what's going on.

"What do you mean?"

"Chris. She got all mad at me again the other day for not telling her Rose was pregnant. She looked like she was about to beat me up, just like she did the day she punched me at visiting week. Rose, Chris got mad at her for going out with her daughter Charley's dad. Rose hasn't gone out with him since she got pregnant with Charley. Chris was super pissed at her, telling her to break up with him and all of this shit as if she was with him right now."

Cara doesn't say anything. I see the erudite gears turning in her head as she thinks and processes what I said.

"God," she sighs, "I just don't know, Tris. Like I don't know if she's loosing her mind, going insane, or if its some type of dementia, I don't know."

"We need to get through to Will."

"Yes."

We're both quiet for a moment, neither knowing what to say.

"She needs help. We have to get her to Erudite med," her voice cuts through the silence like a dull knife. It's jagged, rough, and uneasy.

"I'm off all day today," I say.

"Me too, let's go," she stands up, grabbing her car keys, and I follow her out of the house. She texts aggressively on her phone while we walk to the silver car parked out front of the house, the car unlocking with a click as we both get in.

"I just texted Will to see where he's at. Told him I was in the compound for inventory in the infirmary. Let me know what he responds," she hands me her phone and starts the car, backing down the driveway.

I always laugh at how similar we are, even though we're only related by marriage. Nothing gets in our way when we've made our mind up.

"How are you doing?" She asks.

"I'm doing fine, how are you?" I say generically, the question somewhat out of nowhere.

"No, I mean literally. With all of the stuff happening to your ambassadors and everything. I'm sorry I haven't checked in more."

"It's okay," I swallow. "It sucks, I don't really know how to phrase it."

She hums, "I'm sorry. I just can't even imagine that happening to my coworkers. If you ever need to talk you know I'm here, and I get it."

I know what she means by get it. She knows how I am-- how I don't sleep, how my anxiety eats me alive at times. She was a huge help to me when I stayed at her and Caleb's place in Erudite for a couple months while I was doing physical therapy for my leg.

"I stopped sleeping again. It just eats me alive. Thomas was in the building when it happened. He was in Tobias' office, but he's old enough that we always just let him run between our offices, the section isn't huge, but he could've been there in the hall, or even in my office instead of Tobias'. It eats me alive."

She shakes her head in disbelief, clearly at a loss for words.

"I'm looking into daycares now for him. I work from home usually a couple days, so just for something the other days. I can't bear to bring him to the office anymore. But then again that day Tobias was able to protect him, and if something were to happen and he was at daycare--"

"You can't think like that, Tris, catastrophizing all the time."

"I know, I know," I sigh. "It's just hard."

"Yeah, I understand. A kid like Thomas would love daycare though. He's so friendly and kind, it would be a good way for him to make friends outside of your group too."

I nod, knowing that she's right. I've been lucky that I didn't need to put him in daycare before this point. I was able to have him in the office with me, and I am able to work from home that he won't be there every day.

"How are you, literally?" I phrase the question to her, wanting to change the topic.

"I've been better. I went through my third miscarriage since having Bea last week, second one this year, but it's just a part of life."

"Oh Cara, I'm so sorry."

"It's okay. We're considering to see someone who specializes in fertility. I'm just not sure if I want to go down that route. It's always just been the three of us, but maybe we're just not meant to be a larger family."

"How long have you guys wanted another?"

"It's been a while. Really ever since we saw how good Bea was with Tom when he was younger, or even still for that matter, we were just like gee she is not meant to be an only child. Who knows though, maybe things would be different if it was a sibling versus a cousin," she laughs.

I can't get over her realist view on struggling to get pregnant for years. It makes me feel stupid for getting frustrated after trying for mere months.

"Have you and Four talked about having more than Tom?" she asks the question I knew she was going to.

"We've been trying for a while now, but it's just been no luck. Now with everything going on between him with leader things and me with the ambassadors maybe nothing happened for a reason for us too."

She nods, keeping her eyes on the road as we go out of the suburbs and into the city.

"I've been sick and not feeling right for over a month now though. I've taken so many tests and they've been negative, so it's got to be just anxiety. Probably anxiety is to blame for not being able to get pregnant in the first place anyways.

"That's strange. Have you had a period?"

"Yeah but it was super light, and I skipped the month before."

"Maybe go to your doctor to be sure. Ultrasounds don't lie."

"Would multiple tests be wrong though?"

"Probably not, but maybe. Chances are slim."

Her phone buzzes and I see Will texted her back.

"Will wrote back, he just got off of work and was going to the cafeteria for food."

"Tell him we'll meet him there."

"You and I or am I just going to happen to show up?"

"I'm not gonna fool him with my bit about being for work at the infirmary because I'm not in my scrubs, so tell him you and I."

"Okay. Do I ask if Chris is with him?"

"I'm just gonna assume she's not if he just got off of work."

"Unless she's meeting him too," I ponder.

"We'll wing it if that happens. I don't want him to run if we tell him we're coming to talk."

I hum, sending the text.

"What is our game plan anyways?" I ask since we both kind of jumped into this.

"I don't know," she laughs, "Got any ideas?"

I laugh, shaking my head.

"All I know is this has been a long time coming," I say.

"I guess we hope it's just him, let's talk in the cafeteria if we can since it's a neutral space. Just tell him our concerns yet again, see what he thinks, and I'll offer to drive her to Erudite med."

"Wouldn't she have to agree to get admitted though?"

"That's a later problem."

"Okay and if Will doesn't want to listen to us?"

"If it's because I'm his sister, I leave and you talk to him as a friend, and vise versa you leave and I talk to him as a sister. I'm planning on pointing out how much I've noticed he's changed and hoping that speaks to him if he doesn't want to listen."

"Do you think this all would be better coming from you?" I ask, not wanting to get out of the conversation, but knowing that if I needed to have a conversation like this with my brother I probably wouldn't want her or Christina there.

"I don't know, what do you think?"

"I haven't seen a change in him, so I really can't speak on that. I do think it might sound better coming from you as a sister, but I don't want to leave you high and dry."

"No I know that's not what you're trying to do. I see where you're coming from," she says, and I see the gears turning in her head again as she turns into one of the many parking lots outside of the Dauntless compound.

Putting the car in park, she turns and looks at me, taking her phone as I hand it to her.

"You and I ran into each other, we're walking to the cafeteria together. I'm not hungry, you get in line for food and I'll talk to him, hoping he already got his food. Once you get yours swing by to say bye and I'll either say bye back or throw you in the conversation if I need you. Sounds good?"

"Uh, yeah," I agree, laughing at how quickly she came up with all of that.

We exit the car and walk through the compound towards the cafeteria.

"How many tests have you done?" she brings back up our previous conversation.

"Gosh, probably at least five, I don't know."

"There's no way, it's got to be anxiety or something then. Especially since you did have a period."

"Yeah, I agree."

"And," I continue from even earlier, "If it's what you both want, I would seek out a specialist. Do it off of your decision though, don't worry about Bea having a sibling or not. She's got cousins on both sides to love on, and I'm sure she loves having your and Caleb's undivided attention, Mom and Dad's too for that matter, even though she might not know it yet," I laugh, and so does she.

We enter the cafeteria and see Will sitting alone with his food. Perfect.

"Hey," Cara greets him with a hug, and I already see by the look of him that something's on his mind.

"Hey, good to see you," I smile, "I was just getting food and running, but I ran into Cara so I figured I'd come say hi before I go," I say and Will nods as Cara sits across from him.

I excuse myself to go over to the food line. The only flaw in this plan is that I am not hungry, I'm nauseous and all of the food is making me hold back a gag. But in order for this plan to work I need to take time in the line and give Cara time to feel him out.

I browse the fridges of cold drinks, salads, and desserts, pretending that I can't decide what I want to eat.

There's something about talking to Cara that just always makes me feel better somehow. I don't know if it's her rationale, or if it just that she's so easy to talk to. She's brutally honest, but in a logical sense instead of a brutal sense. I feel like she always makes me see my situation more clearly, and I hope I'm able to do the same for her. I really do appreciate her as a friend.

I take a look up at the clock on the wall and see that only three minutes have passed. Shit. Desperately I look around, hoping I come across someone I know to pass some time. Of course, there's no one here since three in the afternoon is an odd time to have a meal.

I go towards the line of hot food, needing to step back for a minute to compose my nausea.

Good thing I am the only one here. People would think I'm crazy or hate the food by the way I'm acting.

Since there's no way I'll be eating anything, I fill a container with some chicken nuggets for Thomas, or maybe Tobias, whoever wants them, since they likely will be home when I get there. I pay for the food and exit the backroom where the food is, going back out to all of the tables where Cara, Will, and some other people are scattered around at random tables.

I hope five minutes was enough, I sigh, walking over to the table at a slow pace. 

"Hey, I just wanted to come over and say bye, I have to head home to feed Tom--"

"He's onto us," she laughs, "But it's fine, we're going to go talk to Christina in a bit."

"I know how your brain works," he says to Cara, "And you're not too far off from her, miss accomplice."

"Call me later if either of you need anything, and keep me updated," I say, still planning on leaving them to talk.

"Will do," Cara says, standing to hug me goodbye. I hold her tight for a few seconds, thinking about everything her and I talked about in the car on the way here.

Tobias

Tris enters our apartment, mumbling a hello as she is glued to her phone. It is odd behavior, and Tom notices it to, looking over at me from whatever show he was watching on the TV.

"Everything alright?" I ask her and she flinches as if I scared her.
"Yeah, sorry. Just a long day. My appointment with Dr. Scott was fine, I met up with Cara afterwards to hash out some things that have been happening with Chris, she came back to the compound with me to talk to Will, and now she's just texting me that they're taking Chris over to get admitted to the mentally impaired unit at Erudite Med."

The words mentally impaired unit send a cold trickle through me, remembering the months on end that I would go visit Tris in the MIU as they misdiagnosed her PTSD again and again. It was the hardest months of my life watching her struggle and scream in fear about the thoughts going through her head.

"I'm just not sure if I should go with them, or leave it up to them," her voice breaks my thoughts, "I'm not Christina's favorite person right now, but if she snaps out of this I don't want her to be mad since it looks like I've done nothing to help her."

"Tris, you're doing so much on the inside to get her help with coordinating these stories she's telling and getting people like Cara and Will that know the resources she needs, you're doing all you can at the moment. And you know Chris, she'll be mad even if you did help, so don't worry about it."

"You're right," she sighs, taking off her shoes and bending over to pet Indy, his tail swishing back and forth.

"Why do you have chicken nuggets?" I notice the box in her hands.

"I don't want to get into it," she sighs again, putting them in the fridge and sitting at the table next to me. I take her hand in mine, running my thumb across her knuckles and observing her ring on her fourth finger.

"Everything with Dr. Scott was okay?" I question, still sensing from her that something is wrong.

"Yeah, everything is intact, the pain is just something I have to put up with, but I have my leg and can use it, so it's the consequence of that I guess."

I him, squeezing her hand a little in mine. She brings her eyes to meet mine, and I can tell that she's anxious. I'm not sure if it's about something in particular such as the doctors appointment or Christina, or if it's just her regular anxiety. Either way, I don't think I will get an answer out of her, and that might be just because she herself doesn't know what she's anxious over.

"Did you still want to go to the training room tonight? It's alright if you're not up for it," I give her the out in case that is what is causing her anxiety. She had expressed wanting to attempt shooting tonight this morning, and if that is what's causing her anxiety I would like to help her through it and encourage her to still go.

"Yeah, I guess so. Need to rip the bandaid off sometime."

"Mom said she could watch Tom for however long we need."

"That's nice of her, let's head out soon so we aren't out too late for her," Tris says, standing up and going into our bedroom.

I spend the next couple minutes getting Tom ready and bringing him down to my mothers while Tris changes. I thought about just having my mother come here, but I am not sure what state Tris will be in mentally after this, and I would rather prepare for the worst and not have my mother in our home if she needs a bit when we get back.

"Are you ready?" I ask her as I come back into the apartment.

"Yes," she comes out of the bedroom in leggings and a T shirt, and we head out to the training room.

"I just want to preface that any tough love I give you, it's coming from a good place. If it's too much, let me know, but I know you need me to push you," I say, hating the way I worded the sentence, but having no better way to say it.

"No, I need that. Thank you," she doesn't look at me, but takes her hand in mine, giving it a squeeze. I feel her shaking a little, and I wonder if this is the right next step for her. Deep down I know it is. She can't fear guns, especially in a compound that revolves around them. I just don't want this to make her mentally not okay, because I couldn't live with myself if I caused her any more struggle than she already has endured.

Tobias, you're not forcing her into anything. She wants to do this, she reached out to you for help because she trusts you. Nothing is your fault.

I tug on the door to the training room, a loud squeak coming from it as it creeps open. Tris enters first, and I follow her, the door shutting behind her.

Thankfully the room is empty. I knew there was no classes at this time, but it's rare to see no one training on their free time. She looks to me, unsure of where to go, so I take the lead, walking over to the targets that have been used for years of initiation now.

I brought my own gun with me, so I take it out or my holster on my hip. She seems surprised by this, clearly not having seen it on my hip as we walked down here.

"I'm going to take the bullets out," I show her, unclipping the latch and rolling the pieces of metal into my palm, putting them in my pocket. I feel her tension like a brick wall next to me.

"Here," I hand it to her, but she doesn't take it. She just looks, the carving of the number 4 on the handle reflecting the light.

"It's my gun, it would never be used to hurt you," I coax her. This comment must spark a thought, because she moves her hand to wrap around the barrel, awkwardly holding the metal in her hand like she doesn't know what to do with it.

For a moment I realize how odd it is, the two of us, standing in this huge open room, just holding a handgun. I didn't really anticipate how small of baby steps we would be taking, but I guess this first step could have been worked on easily at home.

"Do you want to talk about what's going through your mind?" I offer her to talk, and knowing she will speak when she's ready, even if that is a few days from now.

She doesn't respond, and has a dazed look just like she did when she walked in the door earlier. Her mind is elsewhere. I don't know where, and I might never know. She's lived a life without me, and sometimes it's hard for me to remember that, because I have only lived my life with her.

Suddenly she gasps, bending over and setting the gun on the ground, and shaking her hands like she touched something burning hot.

That's exactly why I took the bullets out.

"Hey," I try to snap her out of it but she doesn't budge, "Hey," I say a little louder, following her as she walks across the room frantically, still shaking her hands.

I am about to follow her but become torn. She's not in her right headspace, I don't want her to think I am chasing her, but I don't not want to console her.

She sharply exhales from about twenty feet away from me, turning her hands into fists.

"Tris, you're alright," I say from where I'm standing, and I begin to make my way over to her, except she turns back to me.

"Yeah, I'm alright," she says, not very convincingly, but the spirit is there. She walks over to me, her hands in fists, and I can tell they are shaking badly.

"Anything is progress, remember that," I wrap my hand around her waist and kiss her temple, knowing how hard that was for her to not only snap herself out of that, but choose to come back to the gun.
She's ready for this. I wasn't sure at first, but like hell I am now.

I offer her the gun again and attempt a different approach. She takes the gun, and I start talking to her about anything but it.
"I took Tom grocery shopping today, you're right, he's getting too big to put in those seats in the front of the cart. God he wanted to buy everything and was a nightmare trying to take things off the shelf and put them in the cart," I chuckle, but notice no response out of Tris. "I think we forgot something in the freezer section though. What was it you asked me to get again?" I direct a question at her, but still, no response. I notice she's holding her breath, her hands shaking badly.

"Tris, you have to breathe. Come on, I wrap my hand around her waist, taking an inhale myself to encourage her.
"Tris, you're going to pass out. I need you to breathe," my voice is stern as I grow worried. I want to push her, I really do. This isn't initiation though. We have lives, a son, she needs to be functioning for herself outside of this training room.

I am just about to take the gun when she sharply breathes in and breathes out, catching up on the air that she wasn't getting.

"Hold onto the gun," I encourage her, "You're alright, it's literally just a piece of metal, Tris."

Her breathing is still erratic, and I hold her tightly at the hip, having a feeling that I am the only thing keeping her upright at the moment.

"Nothing good ever comes from guns, I don't want to do this," she shakes her head violently, her voice raspy.

"That's not true, so much self defense comes with the ability to use a gun, Tris. Remember in the hallway? Jacob could have killed you. You couldn't even shoot. You're lucky he didn't lunge at you so you didn't need to. Imagine if he did? You have the power to defend right in your hands, but couldn't even use it."

She hands me the gun and wiggles from my grasp, walking directly away from me, running her hands through her hair. I can see her whole body shaking to the point that her walking gait is affected.

For a minute I panic, worried that I went too far. She knows it's true though— I only am reciting what she has expressed to me since that moment where her ambassadors were injured.

"It's not just about protecting yourself, it's about Thomas and our family too, Beatrice."

"I know, and that's what makes this so damn hard. I have so much skill, so much fight in me, but it's all useless because I can't fire a gun. I'm fucking useless," I can't tell if she is crying or if her voice is just shaky.

"Tris, that's not true at all. You're not useless, and that wasn't what I meant by that. You know that wasn't what I meant."
She doesn't respond.
And I don't push. We stand in silence for what has to be minutes. I can hear her shaky breaths from where I stand, and see her hands shaking as they are laced on top of her head.

"Tris, come back over here, please," I plead. I would go to her, but I don't want her to feel like the gun is chasing her. And I want her to make the conscious decision that she wants to do this, and it's not me forcing it on her.

She stands in her place for a while longer, but eventually does make the decision to come back over to me. This time she puts out her hand for the gun before I can even offer it to her.

"I—" she starts to talk but can't find her words.
"I—" she tries again but fails, sharply inhaling and exhaling. I notice that unlike the last two times, this time she is holding the gun more correctly with both hands around the handle, just neither finger on the trigger.

"I think it was frozen veggies I needed you to get," she says like she is in pain, her voice tight, her entire body tense, and she flinches after finishing the sentence.

"Oh, I didn't forget those. Tom picked out this big bag of peas, carrots, corn, and green beans. He was excited about it, joke is on him though because I don't think he knew what was in the bag," I chuckle, knowing both of us know he is in his phase of being a picky eater and not liking vegetables. "Maybe it was something in the produce section?"

"I don't know, Tobias," she snaps, her voice still strained. I wonder if the I don't know is about the groceries, or her ability to do this.

I come behind her, holding her arms in mine and wrapping my hands around the gun, being sure neither of my fingers are on the trigger.

"You're alright," I mumble in her ear as I lift our arms slowly to the target. Her whole body trembles in my arms, and I am almost certain that her eyes are closed.

"Breathe with me," I say, inhaling, then exhaling. She is actively holding her breath, but I continue breathing, hoping she will join me.

Eventually she does, taking a few breaths, her shaking still severe.

Like a push of a button, she suddenly panics, gasping and wiggling out of my arms. In the process she trips, but frantically scoots her bottom across the ground to create distance between us.

This time is different than the other panics, I can see it. I leave the gun on the ground and walk over to her, her head in her hands, her body shaking, and I can tell she's crying now.

I don't say anything, just wrap my arm around her and pull her close. She shakes in my arms as I hold her tightly. I wish I could take away her pain. I wish she never went through what she went through to become like this.

"I'm proud of you for all of this. I know it's not easy, and it's so hard to push yourself, and you keep amazing me each step you take, Tris."

"That's the problem, it's not worth being proud of, or worth pushing for. It's a piece of metal, and I can't even hold it."

"No, you did hold it."

"Hardly."

"Hardly isn't a no."

"But it's not a yes."

"What's stopping you from making it a yes?" I ask her.

"Myself. I can't do it."

"I think you can."

"On paper it is so easy to see the gun over there, stand up, walk over to it, bend over, wrap it around my fingers, and just exist with it in my hand. Like, it's not a hard task. But my body won't let me. I have the steps in my mind, but there's a disconnect."

"Give it a try for me, then we can be done for today."

She accepts the challenge, standing up and brushing the tears off her cheeks. In a couple steps she crosses the room to the gun, standing over its position on the ground. She just stands, looking at it for a few seconds before looking over to me. I nod my head in encouragement, and she looks back down to the gun. For a moment I see her doing it— bending down, taking the metal in her hands, or even just touching it on the ground.

But then, something changes in her eyes. I see it, then she reacts to it, whipping around and clenching her hands into fists, heading towards the door.

"I can't do it. Not today. I'm done, this is my limit," her voice is shaky as she continues walking towards the door.

I am about to stop her and encourage her to come back and finish the task. But I know I can't take things too fast. She knows her limit, and I did push her a lot tonight. For a first time, there was more progress than I thought there would be.

I stand up, retrieving my gun from the ground, tucking it in my holster, and catching up with her at the door to exit the training room.

We walk a back to our apartment in silence, her breaths still shaky and her hands still in fists as she tries to will them out of their fists to open the door. Her hands are shaking too bad to put the key in the hole, and she fails, the key falling to the ground.

She throws her hands up in defeat, walking away from the door. For a moment I think she is about to punch the opposing wall, but instead she laces her hands on top of her head like she did earlier in the training room, taking her bottom lip in her mouth and closing her eyes tightly.

I'm about to say something, but decide to hold it until we get into the privacy our apartment. Picking up her keys from the ground, I unlock the door and let her enter first, knowing I will follow her to whatever room she chooses.

She stops at the door, taking her shoes off and ignoring Indy as he runs up to us. I give him a pat on the head before following Tris into the kitchen. She is attempting to grab a glass out of the cabinet, but can't because of how badly her hands are shaking.

I step alongside her, getting two glasses for us and filling them with water.

"I can't even use keys or take a glass when I'm like this. Literally I'm fucking useless."

"I don't want to hear you ever say that again, Tris. You hear me?"

"But it's true." Her eyes meet mine, tears brimming hers. I lift her up onto the countertop so she is at eye level with me.

"Like hell it's not. You need to cut yourself some slack. There is so much you do so damn well. You're an amazing mother, wife, ambassador, you're the only person in this compound who can use a staff and teach us all how to properly do it, you've come so far from who you were when you came back to the city. Remember when you couldn't speak, and couldn't walk? Tris, you're not useless. You're allowed to struggle. You're allowed to be anxious and have PTSD. You've been through so much, and you've overcome so much. You've always had to give yourself times to catch up and breathe, and this is just another one of those times."

She exhales, tears streaming down her face. I hold her face in mine, wiping the tears as they fall.
"Sure, tonight was absolutely nothing to the average person. But you're you, and that was huge for you. Don't worry about what you should be doing, worry about what you are doing, and how amazing these steps are for you. The will that you have to even want to get over this fear is astounding Tris, and it's why I admire you each and every day. I love you."

I wrap my arms around her, my head being at her breasts from this height difference with her on the countertop. She holds me tight, her cheek resting on top of my head, and I feel a few tears in my hair.

We stay like that for a while, just being in each others presence.

"You'll never be going through this alone, Tris. Remember that."