Divergent FBI

Chapter Thirty-Five

Tris' POV

(Last chapter)

"Please." He breathes, his voice nervous, fearful. I open my mouth to say no, then I see the look in his eyes. It's a...wanting, a pleading, a begging look, and I'm sure it mirrors my own. He's taken care of me, he's pushed me, he's hurt me, and he's tested me, but God, every bit of it felt...right. So I stare into his eyes and wrap an arm around his neck. The other one goes up and I trace my finger down the side of his face. He leans into my hand, his eyes closing slowly as he swallows. He opens his eyes, and I stand on my tip toes to press my forehead against his. Our noses brush and we just hold each other, our breaths intermingling. Then, I can't hold myself back any longer and I press my lips to his.

It's like fireworks, and I don't say that lightly, I don't say it like a normal teenage girl. He pulls me to his body, molding us together, making the perfect design. I run my hands through his hair as he deepens the kiss, clutching me tighter against him if it's even possible. He moves one hand to my hair and I revel in the feeling of...us finally together. I realize that we were in this position about three days ago, but it feels like a lifetime...and it scares me, but I'm not going to let it ruin this moment, our moment.

So I kiss him desperately, as if he is the only thing keeping me here on this earth. His hands run up and down my back, my sides and I clutch his shirt with mine. He pulls back barely and I capture his bottom lip in my teeth before he ducks his head to kiss my neck. I throw my head back to give him better access, running my hands over his ripped shoulders. I place my hands on his face and drag him back up to kiss me again, and his hands start trailing up from my hips, over my waist, onto my arms. I hiss suddenly as he trails over my upper arm and pull away. He looks down at his hand, and it's covered in blood.

"Whoa," He exclaims, looking down at my arm where there is a sizable slit in the material. He pulls the material apart to see a long, straight cut in my arm, which throbs now that I'm aware of it. "Oh, shit. Did this happen at that warehouse?"

"Yeah..." I answer, still out of breath from our kiss.

"Okay, come here," He says, grabbing my hand and dragging me to the back seats where we put our bags. He grabs his and opens it, grabbing a white t-shirt and a knife then closing it again. I walk behind him back to our seats and he has me sit down. I watch him then open a cabinet near the cockpit and grab one of those little bottles of vodka; the thought of what I know he's going to do with it makes my stomach churn. He walks back over to me, his blue eyes watching me intensely. He sits next to me and grabs the knife from my lap before cutting off part of my sleeve so that it he wound is exposed. He opens the vodka bottle and looks at me.

"You ready?" He asks, staring at my face with the kind of scrutiny that makes you think he wants to see how I react to the pain. I just nod my head.

He dumps some of the vodka on the wound and I suck in a breath and grit my teeth, my eyes squeezed shut. I open them again maybe ten seconds later when I hear fabric tearing. He rips his t-shirt into strips and wraps one around my arm three times before tying it off.

"You should be good now." He states, picking up everything he used and throwing it into a trash compartment near the cabinet.

"Thank you." I say, looking at him through my eyelashes. "Hey, do you think we should check the stitches on my leg?"

He seems to think about it for a couple of seconds before nodding his head. "Yeah, it'd be a good idea." I stand and begin taking off the thigh sheath that I have along with the one on my ankle.

"Do you want me to grab you a pair of shorts from your bag or anything?" I hear him ask, when I look up, he won't make eye contact and he's scratching his neck nervously.

"No, it's fine. I've got spanx on." I reply, after taking off my boots. Then, I stand and begin peeling my leggings off, and I don't miss Four's glance in my direction before turning around completely. I fold my leggings and throw them on a chair next to Chris before plopping back down in my seat. Four turns and sits next to me.

"You okay?" I nod. He unwraps the Ace bandage and sets it aside before carefully lifting up on the medical tape surrounding the piece of gauze covering the actual wound. When he finally takes it off, I suck in a deep breath.

"What the hell?" Four gasps, his hands flying to the wound to inspect it.

It's completely healed.

The stitches are still in my skin, but if they weren't there, there would be no proof that I was ever injured. There isn't even a scar.

"Four?" I whisper, my voice trembling. "What going on?"

He just shakes his head, his blue eyes alight with astonishment.

"I don't know."

"You don't know?" I ask, my voice rising. "Why the hell is a cut that deep completely healed? There isn't even a scab! Or a scar! There's nothing there but some f*cking stitches in my leg!"

Four grabs my wrists as I try to stand, pinning them both behind my head.

"Tris, you don't wake up Christina. I don't know what's going on, but I can take the stitches out and we can run tests tomorrow at work, but we can't do anything else right now! Don't flip out, if anything this is a good thing, did you really want a six inch scar and limited physical activity for weeks?" I shake my head as tears of confusion blur my vision. "Okay, well I'm going to grab a knife then I'm going to come back and take out the stitches, okay?" I nod and he leaves.

When he comes back, I watch as the stitches come out one by one, leaving nothing but a dent in my skin which disappears in minutes. I don't ask him, but I know Four's sorta freaked out about it right now hopefully, though, we'll figure it out tomorrow.

That's my last thought before falling into a much needed sleep.