Right? --A Fourtris/Tris Pedrad Story

Chapter 61

SIX HOURS LATER
I haven't slept since I woke up. I can't sleep knowing that Tris is alive. Everyone had to go home because they had work the next day. Someone brought me my phone and the extra bullets from my jacket, but they said the jacket was done for. I shrugged it off. I don't care about the jacket.

My phone screen had been covered in blood, so I wiped on the bedsheets. The phone was dead, so I borrowed a charger and plugged it in. It's still charging right now. Nobody wanted to leave me here alone, but they didn't have a choice.

I've just sat and watched the wall for hours. I'm waiting for the news that she didn't make it, for the news that it was just too bad. The news that it was my fault that she was dead.

I don't think she started breathing again because of me. I think she started breathing again because she is a fighter. She made it this far. She can make it farther. I didn't want to believe in her because I didn't want to get hurt. I just want her to live now. Well, I want her to have a quality of life.

I don't want her to be able to walk again. I want her to train again, and help initiates. I want her to eat cake with me again. I want to let her know that she can be right. I want to play seven minutes in heaven again. I want to see her smile more than anything.

I don't need her to like me again. I don't need her to liken the decision she made. I can't face what I did to her. She didn't deserve it. I would only wish that upon Marcus, and that's only because he's the one who did it.

There's a slight knock on the door. I don't bother to tell them to come in. Whoever it is will come in anyway, whether it's a doctor or a friend. I was right, the door opens.

"She's gone, isn't she?" I ask, looking at Dr. Roth. She shakes her head. "Still in surgery then, " I reply, looking down at my feet. "She made it." My eyes widen. "She made it through surgery?" I question. My heart pounds as she nods her head.

I grab my phone and make a group call with everyone. Zeke, Hana, Marlene, and Lynn answer almost immediately. There's a long silence as I look at Dr. Roth for another confirmation. She nods with a smile.

"She did it, " I barely whisper into the speaker. "She made it." I close my eyes and laugh. It's not funny, but I just have to let it out. Tris made it. She made it through surgery.

They say that they're on their way over and hang up. Dr. Roth smiles at me. "She's still in bad shape, " she says, "but the fact that she made it this long is a good sign." She made it. My Tris made it.

Is she awake? Does she know what happened? Is she alone? Where is she? Is she gonna make it?

Within ten minutes, everyone enters together. Hana hugs me instantly and I try my best not to wince, but she notices. "Sorry, " she says, wiping her eye. "You think I care?" I ask. I haven't been hugged in a long time.

Dr. Roth leans against the wall. "We got her infections somewhat under control, but they're still the worst we've ever had, " she explains. "We had to insert a feeding tube into her stomach and put her into a coma to keep her stable enough."

Enough? Enough for what? Enough to survive? Or enough to live a couple more hours?

"If she lives, it won't be for long. There's a less than 1% chance she'll wake up. Even if she does, " Dr. Roth sighs, "there won't be much quality of life. She'll be severely underweight. She likely won't be able to move. She'll have scars everywhere and will have severe PTSD.

"Plus we found bleach in her system and traces in her wounds." He poured bleach on her. Getting hand sanitizer in a cut is bad. Bleach is...I don't even want to think about it.