Tris the trainer

Saving him

Tris pov:
After Shauna, Zeke, and I caught Four and his friends in the training room, I have been trying to sleep with no success. I've been tossing and turning for hours. it is around midnight when I finally decide to get up and go to the control room.

Gus greets me with a grunt and the other two workers don't even acknowledge my presence. I don't try to go through Max's file again- I found everything I need to know. The awfulness of it all is getting to me. I need to tell someone. I think about this for a few minutes and for some reason, Four's face pops into my mind. I shake my head and try to forget about it all. I try to lose my self in the job I am doing- watching different rooms and hallways of the compound.

Like I said- try. I've never been successful in the art of losing myself. My family always found it so easy. Scratch that, every. other. Abnegation. found. it. easy. That's one of the main reason I left. Obviously Four felt the same way.

I just stare at my monitor until I lull into something like sleep.

"Wake up, Six. Go to bed!" Gus says, shaking me. I shoot up-my Dauntless instinct coming into action. I am usually very paranoid, but it has been a lot worse since the Edward incident.

I settle down, and Gus just walks off mumbling. I decide to ignore it and shut down my computer.

I am walking down the halls of Dauntless when I hear a scream. It's not a scream of joy, or getting pranked by your friends and being a little scared- it was a scream of absolute fear.

I start to run towards the person. It sounded like a man- no, boy- is it a initiate? Oh no.

It only takes me a few minutes to get down to he pit- where I heard the scream from- and I see a flash of movement by the chasm. I sprint over there and see a crowed of three people all in black. They are crowded around a fourth person, who is a lot bigger than all of them.

Before I can do any thing, the attackers all grab the victim. He struggles but they get him up. I gasp as they fling him over the chasm. He grabs the bar and is just barley holding on as I can't take it any longer, "hey!" I scream before they can do anything else to him. They all look and I realize who they are: Peter, Drew, and Al. Oh my god.

I sprint over to them and Drew decides to attack me, the idiot. I grab his shirt and slam him into the bars of the chasm. I hit him one, two, three times. I start to lose count as someone attacks me from behind. I feel Drew drop to the ground- probably unconscious- and then I grab behind me. With a fistful of someone's shirt, I use there body wight to my advantage and fling the person over my shoulder. He lands with a thud and a groan. I am about to kick him in the throat as I hear someone gasp, "Six,"

I fling around and see the victim- its Four. I gasp and run over to him. I am not possibly strong enough to lift him over the bars, but I help him gain his footing and give him a hand as he gets over. I look over my shoulder to see if any of them are coming after me, there isn't. Peter and Al must have gotten away when I was helping Four, but Drew is bloody, bruised, and unconscious on the ground. I will get him to the infirmary later.

Four can barely stand so I hold up his half conscious body as we walk to my apartment. He passes out when we get to the hallway my apartment is in, so I all but drag him to my bed and lie him down. I make sure he is okay, check for breaks, all of that. He seems okay, just a little bruised and a few cuts, but I know he will probably never recover from this- even though he is one of the strongest people I know.

I think about all of that as I walk down to the pit and find Drew. I drag him unceremoniously to the infirmary, I probably dislocated a arm. I drop him off and walk back over to me apartment.

The first thing I do when I get back home is wash my hands. I have a few split knuckles, my hands are covered in Drew's and my own blood, and my hands are more blue and purple than skin colour.

Once I finish washing my hands I brush my hair and look over my self in the mirror. There's a cut in the corner of my mouth- did Drew hit me back? I don't remember most of that fight, just bits and pieces. This has never happened to me before, and I hope it never happens again.

I walk over to the freezer and grab an ice pack for Four. As I carry it towards him, I realize that he is awake. I sit down beside his head. I brush some of his hair away from his face and then he stops me and takes my hands, looking at them. "Your hands,"he says. That is so ridiculous to even think about right now, I almost laugh- but I don't, not at a time like this.

"My hands," I say irritably, "are none of your concern." I lean over him and place the ice pack under his head, where I felt a bump earlier.

He reaches up and touches a finger to my mouth.

His touch is like electricity. I never new you could feel something like that, but it was amazing.

"Four," I say. "I'm alright."

He takes his hand away and says, "why were you there?"

"I was coming back from the control room. I heard a scream."

"What did you do to them?"

"I deposited Drew at the infirmary a half hour ago. Peter and Al ran. Drew mumbled a few things about scaring you, but I couldn't get all of it."

"He's in bad shape?"

"He'll live. In what condition, I can't say," I spit. I shouldn't let him see this side of me, the side that gets pleasure form Drew's pain. I shouldn't even have this side.

Four just looks at me. I'm afraid I scared him, nut he squeezes my arm and says, "good,"

I look down at him and see that we both have that side. I remember the look in his eyes as he beat Peter unconscious. Maybe him and I aren't all that different.

In a matter of seconds, his face contorts, and his eyes start to water. I never thought of something as big and strong as him crying, and I don't know what to do. I actually never know what to do in situations like this. Whenever someone cries I feel like I need to leave, get away as fast as I can.

Instead of doing that, I put my arms around him- careful not to put to much pressure on his still forming bruises- and squeeze. He closes his eyes, trying not to cry. I don't blame him.

After a few minutes of looking over Four's purple and blue face, I realize I don't know the right words for how he looks. He still looks handsome and striking even with his swollen and discoloured face.

In this moment I am able to except the inevitability of how I feel, though not with joy. I need to talk to someone. I need to trust someone. And for whatever reason, I know, I know. It's him.

I'll have to start by telling him my name.

I am so sorry I haven't updated in a while, my school ends on Thursday and I will be able to update a lot more frequently. Thanks for sticking with me everyone, and I hope you enjoy the story☺️