Divergent?

Chapter Seventeen (Tobias)

Her heart isn't beating. Her lungs aren't breathing. She's not alive. Dead. She's dead. I look down at her beautiful face, which is framed by her golden hair, fanned out around her head like a halo. In my arms, her body is limp, but as light as a feather. Gently, I lift my hand to her cheek and wipe away a bead of blood that trickles down from a cut above her eyebrow. I begin to caress her cheek, in the horrifying knowledge that her now-warm skin will be stone cold soon. How could this have happened? And why to her, the least deserving person of a fate like this? Of course, no one should be killed in such a cold-blooded manner. But especially not Beatrice. My thoughts wander to the man who did it, and red-hot anger flares through my body, overcoming the sadness. Silent sobs wrack my body, and I bow my head and chest over her, shielding her. I'll protect you. No one can hurt you now. I'll protect you. Emotions wash over me, more emotion than I've ever felt, and all I want to feel is numb. But sadness; anger; a thirst for revenge have taken over me .

'Four'. I barely hear it, but someone whispers my name. A soft female voice, almost angelic. Beatrice will be amongst angels now. I hardly knew her. Now she's gone.

I lift my head reluctantly- I want to be alone- when something strikes me. I look down at Beatrice's face, and my heart leaps into my throat.

Her greyish-blue eyes are open, then delicately flutter closed again. Like butterfly wings. I rest my forehead on her's. Her heart beats against my hand, and her breaths flutter against my cheek. I wrap my arms around her body- her warm, alive body- and heave myself upwards with her head resting on my shoulder.

*                                  *                                *

I'm waiting on a small wooden bench, hard and cold through my thin trousers, outside the infirmary. We drove back as quickly as possible in the van, Beatrice never leaving my arms. She slept the whole way, and despite the speed Uriel was going at, it still wasn't fast enough. We had to drive faster- I had to get her to a nurse quicker. After we arrived back at the compound, I rushed to the infirmary and left her to the Nurse, who said I had to wait out here. I was reluctant, but soon accepted it would be best for Beatrice to be treated in private, with no distractions. Meanwhile, Uriel spoke to the rest of the initaites- to make sure they were alright, I'm presuming.

Tired of being kept waiting, I stand up and begin to pace infront of the pale grey hospital door. On impulse, I stand up on my tiptoes to look through the tiny square window. But the curtain's been drawn over it, as always when a patient is in there. I sit down again and stare impatiently up at the ceiling, a bare lightbulb hanging down on a white cord, when I hear footsteps and voices coming towards me from around the corner.

A quadruplet of initaites stand infront of me, their eyes looking guiltily at mine, their stances shifting awkwardly from foot-to-foot, and their unfinished sentences hanging in mid-air. I identify them as Alexa, Faith, Yves and Zed. Zed was a Dauntless transfer- makes sense, with a name like that... I give the group of initiates a stern look; they and I alike know they should be in their dormitories right now- by Uriel's instruction. It's Zed who finally breaks the silence.

'Uh, we... we wanted to see if... Beatrice is alright', he says at last, apparently deciding the truth is the best excuse for their whereabouts. I fix them with another steely glare before speaking.

'You're supposed to be in your dorms. The Nurse says Beatrice is not to have any visitors yet. Go and get some sleep. You can see her in the morning.' Alexa, Yves, Faith and Zed all shuffle around guiltily, then Alexa opens her mouth to speak. Probably complain. Yves then elbows her in the ribs, and she decides against it.

'Sorry, Four. We all just wanted to know if she was fine. We'll, um, go now', Yves says, then they all turn around.

'She'll be OK', I say before the four of them can go. More to myself than them. More as words of hope than words of truth. Yves does a short nod of his head, then they all leave.

I wake up with a start. Confused by my surroundings, I take in the door to my right and the hard bench I'm slumped on. Then, in realising I'm outside the infirmary, it all comes flooding back. Waiting for Beatrice... To know if she's OK... I then realise I don't remember falling asleep. I must be tired. Judging by the light coming down the short corridor, it should be about five or six o'clock. I think about going to bed, and seeing Beatrice in the morning. I am pretty tired... Just as I'm about to head to my room, the door to my right swing open. The Nurse stands infont of the door, framed by the darkness behind her, wearing a starched white pinifore. I notice little red smears and dots on it, and nausea rolls over me as I realise what it is, and who it belongs to. She then gestures with her head for me to go in. I feel rooted to the spot, though, scared of what I'll find inside. I want to say something, ask if what I'll find is good, or not. But my mouth feels clamped shut.

'Go on', the Nurse says, impatience clear in her voice. I take one shaky step forwards, then enter the room.