Four/Tobias Eaton Imagines

Hoping for Change

The night sky is ablaze with lights tonight. You sit on the roof of one of the Dauntless buildings, swinging your legs silently in time with the wind. They say this city was massive once, part of a country even larger. All you know now are the confines of Chicago, the sectors where each faction live and breathe and die. Maybe the people of the past would have called your world small, but it's big enough for you.

You tilt your head up, staring at the stars. The roar of the wind blocks out most sounds, but it still manages to carry up an undercurrent of Dauntless chatter. Most importantly, it lets you hear the sound of footsteps approaching you. You smile, not having to look to recognize the footfalls. "Four."

It is he, of course, and he greets you back just as seriously. "Y/N." Four cracks a smile, gesturing towards the glass bottle resting on the roof next to you. "You know, I hear it's a bad idea to drink and stand on top of multistory buildings." You grin. "Is that why you're here?" Four glances towards the bottle in his own hand as if noticing it for the first time. "Perhaps."

Four takes a seat next to you, staring out over the city. "It's a nice view sometimes, isn't it? When you manage to forget most everything going on inside it."" You glance over at him. "Feeling philosophical tonight, are we?" Four gives you a look. "You know what I mean." You let him stew for one more moment, then nod. "I do."

You sigh, feeling your contented mood start to slip away into a more melancholy air. "Things have been getting worse, aren't they? It feels different. It's not like the Dauntless I remember." Four exhales slowly, and you swear you can feel the echo rattle his bones. He's tired, your love, and the exhaustion only gets worse the more things change. You know it, because you feel the exact same way.

"People are worse. They get cruel, they get angry. Dauntless used to be about everyday acts of bravery, not how far you could push someone until they get mad and start pushing back. Sometimes, I'm not sure if we're training fighters or cowards." He says, and you smirk. "Don't let Eric hear that, he'll beg to meet you in a fighting ring."

Four chuckles. "He'll lose, too." You laugh, enjoying the simple feeling of it leaving your mouth. "Maybe it'll get better. Maybe this next crop of initiates will be worth something." Four raises an eyebrow. "Do you really believe that?" You shrug. "Not entirely, but we can hope. That's all we have left."

Four looks at you a moment longer, then nods, relenting. "Here's to hoping." He raises his bottle, clinking the top against yours before lifting as if in acknowledgement to a better future. You smile to yourself before taking a drink. "Here's to hoping." Overhead, the stars brighten as the night gets darker, and you and Four stay out to watch them burn out.

The Choosing Ceremony happens the next week, with the next round of trainees arriving at your doorstep sooner than later. You swear it comes faster every year, and that the kids showing up get younger and more foolish every time. You stand with Four by the net at the bottom of the building, listening to the initiates' surprised shouts as they plummet off the side of the roof.

In between waiting for the kids to drop down, you tilt your head up, watching the silhouettes move back and forth on the roofline. "Do you remember going through that? Jumping in front of everybody?" Four nods, a soft smile playing on his lips as he remembers it. "It was terrifying for me. I remember coming down to yours, just to see what it was like."

That was how you'd first met Four. He was waiting in the crowd of Dauntless to get a first look at the new batch of recruits, and there you were, jumping down to meet him. You'd ended up making casual conversation with him whilst waiting for the rest of the trainees to get down, much to the surprise of the others there. He had only graduated from initiation last year, and was still not quite used to what it was like in the faction. You had questions, he had answers, and when you finished training, he was the first one who made you want to stick around.