We Can Be Mended (Divergent fanfic)

Chapter 10

(Tris)
I wake to an unfamiliar smell of what I think is bacon, but I know it can't be. I try to stay as still as possible. Sometimes they leave me alone for a bit longer if I sleep. I can feel my breaths getting shallower and my hands beginning to shake. Calm down. If I don't keep still they'll see me. I need to calm down. It should be easy for a ex dauntless like me. I have faced so many fears in my life but nothing like this. This has gone far beyond fear. I curl my hands into fists, pressing against the restraints like I do every morning. But instead my wrist grinding against hard cold metal, I feel something soft under me. I open my eyes. I lie, not on a metal table like I thought, but in a bed. The room around me is large but cosy. It is sparsely furnished with only a wardrobe and bedside table. The door is slightly ajar. I can feel my breath rattling against my cheek. Maybe this is another simulation. I curl up into a ball and press my face into the pillow, trying desperately to calm down. I can't go through another one! But this feels different, more real. I scream into the pillow, trying to focus on something that will allow me to break out of the simulation but there is nothing. I take a deep breath and my nostrils fill with a familiar scent. Sweet and distinctly male. The smell that has made me feel safe ever since he saved me from being thrown into the chasm six years ago. I breathe it in and once again try to focus on breaking through this mind control. Maybe David and his lackeys have finally created a simulation for divergents that I can't break out from. I scream into the pillow again. I can feel sweat collecting in my palms and I suddenly can't breathe.
Distantly I hear footsteps and a door being flung open. Then I am wrapped in his arms, still shaking, tears staining my face. But he is here. I am safe. I am safe now.
It is only when I calm down and stop trembling that I remember the events of last night and realise that this is real. It is not a simulation. There won't ever be another simulation. I am safe.
I pull away from Tobias and dry my eyes, colour filling my cheeks. I hate being so weak. I expect to see disgust in his eyes at how weak I have become, but when I look up at him I see only concern.
"You okay?" he asks, his hand against my cheek, his thumb stroking my cheek bone gently. I nod. Then I smile, a genuine smile because despite the concern in his eyes, I still see no pity. Even now when I am such a mess, he still thinks I am strong.
"I made breakfast, although I guess it's more like lunch now," he says with a chuckle. I look at the clock on his bedside table - 12:53. I let him lead me into his kitchen although I don't feel hungry.
"Shouldn't you be at work?" I say, more for conversation than anything. I feel almost awkward around him suddenly. I know nothing about him or his new life. I don't even know if he does work. For all I know he could be with someone else. Although judging by our kiss last night, he is not.
"I called in sick." He says. He doesn't say it but he end of the sentence lingers in the air unsaid. He doesn't think I am stable enough to be left alone. I pick up my folk, not because I'm hungry, but because he is frowning at my untouched food and I can almost feel his concern.
We eat in silence. There is so much to say that we don't know where to start. Eventually he finishes his plate and I have to stop, even though iv barely touched it, because I feel sick.
He frowns at me, "I guess you have not eaten much real food in a while."
He is right, I have not eaten much, but probably not for the reason he thinks. They fed me enough to stay alive. In fact I did not find the food too bad, especially having grown up in abnegation. The real reason I have not eaten much is my own fault. There were times that I lost all hope in there. Six years is a long time and I didn't want to do it anymore. The trouble was, when I was not being experimented on, I spent my time manacled to a bed or in a bare cell with not so much as a loose screw to work with. There wasn't much I could do other than starve myself. Of course my torturers would not allow this so they force fed me through tubes or by torturing me until I gave up and ate, but the food would stick in my throat like tar and it would take several tries to get anything down without choking.
Of course, I don't want to tell him this so I just nod.
He sighs, "I guess we have a lot to catch up on." His eyes are sad and his eyebrows turn downwards. The years of grief have taken their toll. I feel a stab of guilt in my gut, like a knife prodding at my insides. My fault.
But when he smiles his eyes light up while they used to and I am transported back to a time before any of this, before the scars of our torture set in. A time when we were happy. Suddenly I am filled with hope. I remember the night before I was kidnapped, when we were so filled with hope of a time when there was no war and we could live happily together, just the two of us. A normal life. We could still have it.
I smile up at the only boy I have ever loved, "We had better get started then."
I raise my eyebrows in question and his grin answers me.
We spend most of the day sitting on his sofa talking about his life now. His friends, his work as a 'sort of politician'. I am pleased at that. I have always thought that he belonged in leadership. It is when he follows that he has issues. He tells me how close he's become to Christina, how they share each other's grief and how she helped him through the impossible points of his grief. When he thought he couldn't make it, she always pulled him through. I feel a pinch in my gut that I recognise as jealousy, although I am not sure why. It is not like they were involved or anything. Well, from what I know they weren't.
He tells me how he brought Zeke and Hana back to say goodbye before Uriah was turned off. My heart aches for him, one of the last friends I had left.
He tells me how Zeke forgave him for what happened - never one to bear a grudge.
He tells me how Caleb is living near the old Erudite headquarters working on some kind of research project with Cara and Mathew, who moved into Chicago when the rest of them moved back.
Then he tells me how he scattered my ashes off the zip line. Well I suppose they weren't my ashes but I still feel a swell of pride for him. He went zip lining, for me. I reach up and curl my fingers around the back of his neck. Then I bring my lips to his and kiss him softly. His lips move against mine gently, unsure. We are still getting to know each other again after so long. I feel his hands on my hips, sliding up my back. I find the hem of his shirt and slip my hand underneath. My fingers glide along the dauntless flame sizzling across him ribs. The space between us is gone, the tenderness of a moment ago forgotten. We tear at each other's lips. Our bodies push further against each other but there is no space left. My shirt is tangled around his arm and our legs are a mess beneath us but this is still perfect to me. His hands clutch at my hips and I find myself swinging my leg over him. His lips pull away from mine, making them feel cold, but then his lips touch my cheek, my jaw, my neck. A sigh escapes from my mouth and I tense up embarrassed, but he doesn't stop. If anything he pulls me close, his arms wrapping around my back, wrapping is tightly together until there is nothing between us. But it still not close enough. My body yearns to strip the layers of clothing from between us and get even closer. My fingers touch the hem of his shirt and without stopping to think I am tearing it from his body. I pull away from him, staring at his naked chest. He is beautiful. His chest rises and falls rapidly with each breath. His muscles stand out from his stomach and I reminded of his strength, but at the same time his finger flutter tenderly over my back. Despite his capability, he would never hurt me. My eyes meet his and he looks away as if embarrassed but I can't understand why. He is the most beautiful person I have ever seen, the tattoos littering his skin making him into a work of art.
His hands shift to the hem of my T-shirt and his eyes find mine, asking permission. I feel air touching my skin as the shirt is ripped from my body. His eyes skin my body and I can feel my fave getting hot. I am not what I used to be. Each one of my ribs jut out from my chest. My stomach, which was once muscular and toned, is now shrunken and I am even more flat chested than I used to be. The years of starvation have changed my body to match the pain in my mind. But at least physical pain is repairable. I am afraid that my mind will never heal.
I look at Tobias, expecting to see horror at my skinniness or even disgust at what I have become. But his eyes are filled with desire and something else. Love. He kisses my collars bone, just above the birds that soar across my chest.
"I love you," he mutters against my bare skin. Then he pulls away and says it again, louder this time, his eyes on mine, his breath tickling my lips.
"I love you Tris."