Chapter Twenty-Seven - Waiting

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You guys are truly amazing. Thank you so much for the reads, votes, follows and comments. It means the world to me. Just as a heads up, the next few weeks are going to be busy for me. I'm going to do my best to keep up with the updates, but don't panic if I miss a Saturday or two.

Thanks again to Depecher and BarbaraK2U for the help with editing this and getting this back to me. You guys are amazing as usual.

Tris' POV

           

I thought I had experienced torture once before when I waited day after day for Tobias to write to me.  I would get so excited running to the mailbox when I got off from school to see if there was a letter waiting for me; then came the crushing disappointment when there was nothing in the mailbox.  That disappointment would turn to unrest and anxiety when I feared that something had happened to him.

Oh, how wrong I was.  This.  This is torture.  I only know two things for sure: that he is currently somewhere in England making last minute preparations, and that they haven't invaded yet.  The endless waiting for them to invade Normandy is slowly chipping away at my sanity.

The nights are the worst, when I crave to just be near him; when I hug his shirt tightly to my chest, breathing in what is left of his scent, and hold my locket open to gaze at the picture of him within.  It seems each night takes me just a little longer to fall asleep, and I wonder if eventually I won't be able to sleep at all. 

Most of my days are spent helping train the troops that are fresh out of boot camp with target practice and parachute drops.  My evenings have been spent with Matthew and Chris in his laboratory, as I've named it, helping him experiment with whatever thing he's toying with, just talking with one another, or listening to radio chatter to see if there is any news about the landing.

Matthew's main concern seems to have something to do with a very long and complicated formula.  He says that Christina and I aren't allowed to touch it since he doesn't know the full effects of it yet, but that it would more than likely kill us if we were to get it into our bloodstream. 

Chris and I haven't bothered to ask him why he's making it.  More than likely it's top secret, and I honestly don't want to know who ordered it or why.  All I know is that on his bad days, when he seems to shut out the world, he solely focuses on that formula and nothing else.  I often hear him mumble that he's close, which I can only assume is a good thing for us and bad for those on the receiving end. 

Christina, Shauna, Marlene, and I have taken to hiking through the nearby woods on Sunday afternoons when everyone has the day off.  It wasn't ideal for them at first, but it has proven to be greatly beneficial to us when we need to let out our frustrations, scream at nothing in particular, and not have to worry about someone coming to investigate.  We did invite Tori, but she said that Sundays she likes to sleep in, and that she spends enough time on her feet throughout the week as it is. 

Christina, it seems, has fallen for Will, and both of us often wear the same haggard look each night when we walk back to our lodgings.  It's no different after we get done with the early night flight this evening.  "How are you, Tris?" Christina asks, but she already knows the answer.

I shrug.  "Same as you, I guess.  I'm just tired of the relentless waiting.  I just want to know, so I can either grieve or feel relief for another day, until I have to worry for the next." 

She nods at my words, kicking a small stone across the dirt path.  "Do you think that if they can actually get into France, it will tip the war in our favor?"

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