A week into her soulmates’ second deployment, Tris wakes in the night to the same alarm that she heard the night Zack was injured. “Report to Leadership Offices,” the message reads.
Tris dresses quickly, her heart pounding, and runs through the compound. When she arrives, only Max is there before her. “Loading dock!” he shouts, and Tris turns to obey her superior’s command.
Everything is chaos at the loading docks. Dauntless troop carriers are moving into position, and soldiers are packing weapons, ammunition, and supplies into crates. Tris doesn’t know what she needs to do, so she looks for the commanding officer.
She finds the Lieutenant in charge, a woman named Maxine, issuing orders and looking over forms. “Major Prior,” the Lieutenant says, saluting Tris as she calls her by her Dauntless military title. “Come with me please.”
Tris follows. As a leader in training she might outrank Lt. Maxine, but she knows that when it comes down to it, the older woman has a lot more experience, and Tris has no interest in pulling rank just to pull rank. Maxine tosses Tris a bullet-proof vest and field helmet, then leads her to a jeep where a red-haired driver waits behind the wheel.
“Major Prior this is Sergeant Richards,” the Lieutenant says. “He will take you to your destination.”
Tris thanks the Lieutenant, and they salute one another. She throws on the protective gear and a holster and side arm that were waiting for her in the jeep. As soon as she is seatbelted in, the driver puts the vehicle in gear and they lurch toward the exit of the garage and out into the streets of Chicago.
“Where are we going?” Tris asks the driver.
“To the camp,” he says, confirming what Tris already suspected.
“Why?” she asks, terrified of the answer.
“Because of the factionless attack,” the Sergeant says, as if the answer should be obvious.
“What factionless attack?” Tris asks, losing patience as her anxiety for Tobias and Eric skyrockets.
“I’m sorry, Ma’am,” the driver says. “I thought you knew. There was another overnight attack. This time the factionless with knives led some of our troops into an ambush. There were a few factionless who had guns.”
“Casualties?” Tris asks, barely able to breathe.
“It just happened,” the Sergeant says as he races the vehicle through the empty streets. “Intel is incomplete, but there is at least one Dauntless killed, several taken to Erudite, and others with minor injuries.”
Tris stares at the floodlit former park that has become the Dauntless encampment in the factionless sector. Normally at this time of night the camp would be dark, with just a few burn barrels to add light and keep the soldiers on watch from freezing. But tonight the area is awash with light and buzzing with troop movements. Sergeant Richards drives Tris right into the camp and stops the jeep at the command tent in the center of the action.
At the sound of the jeep, the tent door swings open, and Lieutenant Thomas, Tobias’ commanding officer, steps out. His left arm is in a sling, and Tris can see a bloody bandage on his upper arm. He also has a black eye, and a cut on his swollen lip.
“Major Prior,” Thomas greets Tris with a salute. She returns the gesture. “Thank you for coming so quickly. In here, please.” He gestures to the tent, and Tris gets out of the jeep, thanking her driver before he leaves.
“Where is the Colonel?” Tris asks, looking for Eric.
“In here, Ma’am,” says Thomas. Tris detects sadness in his voice, and it shakes her to her core. Is Eric hurt? Dead? she wonders.
She follows the Lieutenant into the tent. The front part of the room is a hive of activity. Maps and papers are strewn about the tables, and officers hold lanterns above the paper as they argue about strategy and their next moves. None of them look Tris in the eye. She looks around desperately, but doesn’t see Eric.
“This way,” Thomas says, lifting the curtain that separates the front of the tent from the small sleeping quarters.
Tris ducks under the flap and steps into the dimly lit sleeping quarters. There are two cots in the room. The one on the right is empty, and the bed is unmade. The cot on the left holds Eric, who is covered in blood.
Tris gasps as the room spins. Thomas begins speaking to her, but she can’t make out the words. Finally the word “sedated” pierces her consciousness and she realizes that Eric’s chest is rising and falling.
“Bleeding…” Tris mumbles, unable to form a complete thought.
“That’s not his blood, Ma’am,” Thomas says. “Another soldier took a bullet meant for Colonel Coulter. The other man died, and Eric took it hard. We had to sedate him after he gave me a black eye and a split lip for trying to pry him away from the body.”
All at once, Tris knows what happened. She knows exactly who would sacrifice himself to save Eric’s life, and whose death would break Eric so badly that he had to be sedated.
“Four,” Tris says, her voice barely more than a whisper.
Thomas looks shocked. “Yes, Ma’am. Four sacrificed himself and saved Eric.”
Tris’ knees buckle, and she drops to the floor. More than she wants her next breath she wants for this to be a bad dream. But as the minutes tick by, she doesn’t wake up. She doesn’t cry. She doesn’t speak. She barely breathes. All she can do is sit on the canvas floor and stare at Eric’s chest, covered in Tobias’ blood, as it rises and falls.
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Soulmates
FanfictionDivergent fanfic - Soulmates A/U - Four/Tobias x Tris x Eric: Some people in Divergent's Chicago are born with soulmarks, tattoo-like birthmarks that say the first words their soulmate will say to them. The marks are written in a color indicating th...