Flower Child

Chapter Twenty Five

The pain is unbearable, it is what wakes me up from my restless sleep. When I'm able to force my eyes open, I see the words "Fear God Alone" painted on the wall. I can see a door, a counter, and the ceiling from where I lay. I'm not in the dorm, nor the infirmary.
The pain is everywhere. My head, my arms, by sides. It's like I'm made of it, this intense white hot pain. Any adrenaline that I had during the fight for my life to keep me from feeling it was gone now and I could almost drown in the pain.
I hear water, not the likes of the chasm but a faucet. I tilt my head towards the noise, fighting away the groan of pain that wants to escape me.
Four is in a bathroom that is attached to the room. He runs his hands beneath the water, blood from his knuckles turn the water pink. He has a cut on the side of his mouth but otherwise, he looks unharmed. He examines his wounds for a moment, turns off the water, and then dries his hands with a towel.
I don't really remember getting here, but I know he carried me. There is no way I could walk here, even with his help.
He turns the light off in the bathroom and walks towards the fridge in the corner of the room. He grabs an ice pack from it and turns towards me. Our eyes meet.
"Your hands," I whisper, it's all I can manage.
He smiles, "my hands are the least of your concerns."
He leans over me and gently slips the ice pack beneath my head. Before he can pull away from me I lift my hand to his face, gently running my fingers over the cut on his mouth. He doesn't pull away.
"I'm alright," he whispers against my fingers.
I pull my hand back, "why were you there?"
"I was coming back from the control room," he says, still leaned over me, "I heard you scream."
"Where are they," I ask.
His demeanor changes from soft to livid at the mention of them, "I dropped Drew off at the infirmary half an hour ago. Peter and Al ran. Drew says that they were just trying to scare you. At least, I think he was trying to say that."
"What'd you do to him," I ask.
"He'll live," he answers bitterly, "in what condition, I can't say."
"Good," I whisper.
I feel rage building up in me. They all deserve to be in Drew's condition. Maybe even worse for what they did. I want to find them, to crush every bone in their bodies.
Four kneels down on the floor so he is level with me. His eyes don't hold any pity in them, worry maybe, but not pity. I'm grateful for that, I don't want anyone to pity me, I don't need it.
"I could report this."
"No," I say quickly, "they'll think I'm scared, that's worse than them trying to kill me."
He looks grim but nods, "why did I figure you'd say that?"
"Can I sit up," I ask.
He nods, "let me help you."
Four grabs my shoulder with one hand and supports my head with the other. I push myself up and pain bursts through my body. I ignore it, gritting my teeth.
"You can let yourself be in pain," he says, "no one will know, I promise."
He hands me the ice pack so I can hold it to my head. I fight the pain away still.
He sighs, "I know what I'm about to suggest you aren't gonna like, but hear me out. Maybe you should rely on your friends to protect you instead of always being the protector, especially with your transfer friends."
"Your right," I say, "I don't like that idea. Al was one of them tonight. Who knows what if the others are actually my friends or are like him."
"Al was scared," Four says, "he's failing, and you're at the top of it all. He wanted you to be the Amity girl that he wanted and when you weren't, he felt threatened."
"I don't care what he wanted me to be," I snap, "I'm not just some little Amity girl who's going to smile and go along with whatever they say!"
He nods, "I know that. But, they'll leave you alone if you show that you're vulnerable, even if it's fake."
"You want me to pretend to be vulnerable," I ask.
He takes the ice pack from my hand and holds it to my head for me. I'm silently grateful because my arm was growing tired. I let my hand fall away.
"You need to march into breakfast tomorrow and show your attackers that they had no effect on you," he says, "but you let that bruise in your cheek show and keep your head down."
My rage bubbles in my stomach, "I can't do it. I really don't think I can."
"You have to."
"You don't understand," I snap, "they touched me."
His body goes rigid and his eyes darken, "they touched you?"
"Not in the way you're thinking," I say, "but if I hadn't fought my way out of their grip, I think they would have."
I look down. It's not something I wanted to think about, or tell him about.
He is silent for a long time, so long that I wonder if I shouldn't have said anything at all.
"What?"
He looks at me with intense eyes, "I really don't want you to have to do this. The only reason I'm even suggesting it is because I think it'll keep you safe for the time being."
His brows are furrowed and he looks into my eyes so intensely. I feel strange, like a knot is tying in the pit of my stomach. His plan makes sense, doesn't mean I have to enjoy it at all. I'd rather burn myself than make the other initiates think I'm weak, to let them walk all over me like they do to Tris.
I nod anyway.
"But please, when you ever get the chance-" He presses his hand to my cheek and tilts my head so I'm looking completely at him, his eyes glint and they almost look predatory. "Ruin them."
I laugh quietly, "you know, your scary sometimes, Four."
"Do me a favor," he says, "don't call me that."
I tilt my head into the hand that still rests on my cheek, "then what do I call you?"
"For now?" He runs his thumb over the ridge of my cheek before letting the hand drop. "Nothing."