Divergent FBI

Chapter Fifteen

(Author's note:

Oh my gosh you guys, I'm SO sorry about the wait!!! I realize that that's a really, I don't know, cruel thing to do? All I know is when an author doesn't update, I get mad, so I'm so sorry! I do have an explanation though! My family and I just adopted a little 10 pound ball of fur! Our puppy's name is Kenai and he's just about the sweetest thing. Anyway, that's why I haven't been updating. That little dog is a lot of work! Once again, so sorry, but I'll let y'all read the chapter now!

-ksu154593)

Last chapter:

"How long until you can come back to work?" Christina asks. I open my mouth, getting ready to answer, but Four starts talking before I can. Apparently, he was eavesdropping while also carrying on his own conversation with Uriah and Zeke.

"She'll be out all this week, and then she'll go to the doctor again next week and he'll update us on her condition. She has a severe Stage Two concussion, which will take about ten to fourteen weeks to heal. She also has a bruised rib, and her neck is considerably damaged, but both of those things should only take about three weeks to heal. The cut on the back of her head isn't a big deal and should heal within the next week. " I gape at him, not really thinking that he listened and memorized all of my medical conditions.

Hell, I didn't memorize them.

After about ten minutes of everyone conversing quietly in my living room, Four kicks everyone out, much to my dismay. He claims that I need my rest, but come on, I'm totally fine... Sorta...

"So did you remember anything else about that doctor's appointment? 'Cause other than the fact that I have a concussion, I don't remember a thing." I ask jokingly. A hint of a smile graces his stern face, but I know I amuse him. I'm freaking hilarious. That's probably one of the only things he likes about me. Yet again, maybe not...

"I remember most of it, but I don't particularly want to recite it, so if you have a question you can ask." Ugh, I can't get any feelings out of him. Jesus, would a laugh be too much to ask for?

"You know, you're pretty boring." I say, not trying to conceal my thoughts about him. Maybe he'll laugh about what I say to him.

Jesus, how many pills did they give me?

He sits down on the other end of the couch, making sure that he doesn't brush my feet with his leg. Almost like I'm contagious with a disease. He was that cautious. Why is he so freaking cautious?

"You could say that." He replies monotonously as he leans his head back on the edge of the couch. "Or you could say I'm attentive and quiet. I prefer the latter." What the crap? This guy is freaking weird...

"Good to know." Whatever, I'm done trying. I close my eyes slowly not saying anything else, the silence overtaking the room is too peaceful and perfect to ruin it.

We sit quietly, only able to hear each other's steady breathing and the sound of a clock ticking. Huh, I didn't know I had a clock... Thus is kinda awkward, what if he's looking at me?

"Tris?" I hear his voice ask. Damn, he ruined it.

"Hmm?" I groan, not particularly keen on starting a conversation. I hope he gets the message. But then he asks a dreaded question that honestly, I knew was going to come at some point. And it definitely sobers me up.

"What really happened to you? Who actually attacked you?" I can feel his body shift into a sitting position; I can feel the intensity of his curious blue eyes; I can feel my heart beating out of my chest.