Hello all! Once again, I know it has been ages since I last updated and I'm so sorry. I wish I had more time to commit to this but it just keeps not happening. I'm doing my best to keep this going and I really want all of you to be reassured that I will not abandon this story. Though it might be easy at this point to jump ship, I couldn't do that to all of you. Besides, I still have a story to finish telling. Already you've all been extremely patient and supportive and your messages and comments always leave me really wanting to write! It' just unfortunate that wanting to do it and actually being able to are very different things. I'm having a little bit of a hard time just with the act of writing currently. I know where the story is going, I know how the scenes are going to play out, I just can't quite get myself to write it out. I swear I'm going to keep trying and keep working on it and hopefully I can get back on track for good so I can finish this up!

So once again I have a whole list of thank yous to include. Firstly to BK2U who is always my cheerleader in the corner and I think who would pester me to write even if I were dead. She's definitely that voice in my head reminding me that I need to write. She gets these chapters written through her insistence. And then on top of it she edits them all too so I can actually post them! So you readers definitely all owe her a big thank you and Tumblers, you should really give her whatever she wants, without her you wouldn't have a new chapter to read!

And then lastly just thank you to all of you who are still sticking around and reading even though it has been literal months between updates recently. Though I cannot promise I will upload faster, I can swear I will most definitely be trying. I really, really want to upload next week, even if it's shorter, so I'm going to do my very best to work on that. Until then, I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think!

The rain is all the excuse either of them need to return home, fall onto the couch, and do absolutely nothing the rest of the day. The drumming of raindrops against the windows becomes the background music to their evening whilst the two of them talk quietly, and as Tris makes hot chocolate for them both.

They move the coffee table out of the way and spread out along the rug, a Scrabble board between them. Tris manages to pull off playing 'oxidize' while Tobias watches slack-jawed, the killer word leaving him so far behind in points he knows it's a lost cause. He lays down a measly 'deal' and sighs. "Next time we're playing Uno," he grumbles. "I'm a master at Uno."

Tris rolls her eyes as she surveys the board. "Uno is a game of luck. To say you've mastered Uno is like saying you've mastered…Yahtzee."

"Yet another one of my strong suits."

Tris pauses to look up at him. "So," she starts, a mischievous smile beginning to form. "What you're saying is that you have no skill?" She bites her lip to keep from giggling as his mouth falls open.

"Those games require plenty of skill," he argues, resisting the urge to complain as she lays down the word 'juniper' and earns another forty points.

"Yeah, okay," she replies, her voice so laden with sarcasm that Tobias can't ignore it. "And so does Bingo."

"My grandmother's favourite game," Tobias answers, placing a hand over his chest in mock offense. "How dare you insult my ancestor's legacy?"

Now she can't help it as the laughter bubbles out of her, cut off by the rumble of thunder so close by that it vibrates the floor beneath them. Her gaze moves from Tobias to the window behind him. Not that there is much to see with it being completely dark outside. "Crazy to think that by tomorrow morning all of the snow will be gone."

Nodding, Tobias turns to look out the window she continues to stare out of relentlessly. The beating of the rain somehow manages to increase, violent drops splattering against the glass furiously.

He gets up from his spot on the floor and slides the Scrabble board away, waving Tris to the side. She shoots him a look, but moves as directed. He lifts one edge of the sofa, rotating it so that it faces the large window which overlooks the city rather than the television. He then switches off the light, offering them both an unobstructed view of the world outside.

Tris smiles and pulls a blanket from the back of the couch as she plops down next to him. He pulls her closer to him as she spreads the blanket out over both of them. She fits against him with ease, her small frame encompassed by his larger one. Tobias realises this simple moment, once scarcely imagined by either of them, is now practically routine.

The happiness that thought triggers in him causes him to crane his neck around in order to kiss her on the cheek. "I love you," he whispers. It seems unlikely he will ever tire of the freedom now allowed to him to speak those words .

"Of all people," Tris says, snuggling further against him, "I never would have pictured you as being such a romantic." Her hands pick up one of his and she plays with his fingers for a moment before holding it firmly in hers. "But I love you, too."

The silence encompasses them both. It is far from awkward; comforting, actually, as the splattering rain and rumbling thunder combine into a soothing lullaby, soon joined by the deep, heavy breathing of a sleeping Tris.

Tobias shifts to lie down on the couch, pulling her with him. No way in hell is he disrupting this moment.

Morning comes with a layer of grey and some hazy sunlight. The city below is still being rained upon, though less so now, and everything looks a bit grim and dreary.

The lack of a weight against his side slowly drags Tobias into consciousness. Tris is gone from the spot beside him, though the blanket remains across his body. Tobias stands, stretching and rubbing his eyes in an attempt to wake up. His back aches from the awful couch that he somehow managed to sleep on all night.

Surprisingly enough, Tris is not busying herself in the kitchen as usual. He pokes his head into their room, anticipating he will find her sleeping soundly on her side of the bed, but instead he finds her standing and folding a basket of laundry.

"How long have you been up?" he asks, calling attention to his presence in the doorway.

Her gaze flies up to meet his, startled for a brief second. "I just had some trouble sleeping," she answers, though as much had been made apparent by the load of laundry she had already completed.

"Nightmares?" he asks, and Tris merely shrugs, her eyes once again focusing on the clothes before her.

"I couldn't sleep," is her vague answer. He moves to walk toward her, his hand outstretched in an act of comfort. She grabs it, holding his hand firmly in her own and squeezing tightly for a second before releasing it. She offers him a weak smile. "Why don't you go get the paper and see if you're famous yet?" she asks, doing her best to infuse a light tone into her voice.

Tobias does his best to not be further consumed by worry. He wants to be able to help, more than just the briefest contact of their hands can offer. He wishes she would confide in him for once. After all they have been through, it's frustrating that she still refuses to communicate with him at times like this. "Yeah, sure," he says and leans forward, kissing the top of her head briefly. She leans against him for a second, before straightening up again.

He can't ignore his concerns, despite his best efforts. Walking out of the room, he feels uneasy about Tris having barely slept, and uneasy, too, with her habit of shutting him out so thoroughly. Though he knows it isn't personal, it's hard not to think of it as such.

Tobias runs his fingers through his hair as he swings open the door, reaching down to pick up the paper. The front page picture is visible, even with it all still folded up. Tobias smiles at Christina's wide grin and his own happy stare, a rare thing to be caught in a photograph. Tris looks radiant, he thinks. Her smile manages to convey excitement and a great degree of pride. She's pictured with her arm slung around one of the homeless. Her eyes aren't focused on the camera; she probably didn't even know the picture was being taken, but she was beaming regardless.

His sleepy brain finally catches up to what his eyes have been analysing for the last minute and a half. Tris. In the paper. Tris's picture is in the newspaper. In fact, her picture is on the front page of the newspaper, blown up to half the size of the page. "Shit," he mumbles as he slips out into the hall and unfolds the paper, his eyes scanning the article quickly. He sees the name Eaton used in reference to him, his father, and the company a dozen or so times, along with words like 'charitable foundation' and 'community outreach'. Christina's name jumps out at him at one point, but thankfully, Tris's name is nowhere to be found on the front page.

It will all be okay, he thinks, as he flips his way to page four where the article continues. As long as her name isn't in here damage control could be run. She'll get over the fact that her picture was published. In fact, it isn't even a full photo, only half of her face can really be seen!

But then he reaches page four, and the next to last paragraph, and his heart sinks. Her name is there, in print, for the world to see. Tobias doesn't understand in the slightest how it got there and starts from the top paragraph, forcing his mind to slow down so he can read it properly.

"A recipient of Eaton Industries' community outreach program largesse, who wishes to remain anonymous, claimed a personal connection to one of the project coordinators: 'I've known this girl for quite a while. She introduced herself as Beatrice Prior, then three days later made me swear not to tell anyone else who she was. She lived on the streets for a number of years, then disappeared a short while ago, until I saw her here again today.' Pressed for further details, our source was unable to provide any other background on Ms. Prior. She did add, 'I bet she couldn't be happier to have her name out there now. She deserves it for this wonderful project!' We at the Chicago Tribune could not agree more."

Fuck the Chicago Tribune. Fuck the Chatty Cathy with a keen memory of the past. Fuck himself, too, as this will definitely be his fault, somehow.

There's a brief moment in which Tobias wants nothing more than to take the paper and throw it out a window or burn it in the fireplace or maybe stomp on it on the wet sidewalks outside until all the ink has run so that her name can no longer be read and her face can no longer be recognised. Because, even though he doesn't know what the consequences of her name being out there will be, he does know that she very explicitly requested one thing from him. And he failed her.

Immediately, he pulls his phone out of his pocket and types in the Tribune editor's email address, furiously tapping out a strongly worded email insisting that her name and photograph be redacted and corrected no later than tomorrow. He throws in a warning about his lawyers being in contact for good measure, then drops his phone back into his pocket with a sigh.

The door opens behind him, causing him to jump nervously. Though it is foolish, he moves to hide the paper behind his back, which only serves to pique Tris's interest. "I was wondering where you went," she says, raising an eyebrow at him. "Is there a problem?"

Tobias inches past her into the apartment. Thankfully, she shuts the door behind her and follows him inside. "Don't freak out," he begs. He wishes he didn't feel the sudden need to tie her to a chair to keep her from running out on him.

"Do I have a reason to?" she asks, her tone tinged with wariness as she takes a step back, as if to escape whatever bad news he's holding.

He hangs his head in defeat as he extends the crumpled newspaper in his right hand towards her. "I'm so sorry," Tobias manages to say as she takes it. He knows she expects the worst. He fears that is exactly what she'll be getting.

"My picture…" she starts, her eyes wide and fixated on the exposed portion of her face. There is certainly no happy smile or shining eyes as she looks down at it. Instead, her face reflects nothing but gloom and heavy concern. "I thought you talked to them about keeping my picture out of it."

It isn't quite an accusation, but Tobias feels like he's being scolded regardless. "I did, I swear. So did Christina." Not that it accomplished anything in the end. "Just…read it." He sighs those two words out heavily and runs a hand through his hair.

Her eyes skim the page quickly, her mouth half-forming each word as she reads it over. She reaches the end of the first page and glances up at him briefly as she flips to the continuation of the article. He reads confusion in her expression, but the weariness is even more apparent.

The moment when she reaches the portion containing her name would be hard to miss. Her entire face falls, her mouth dropping open; her eyes follow the words to the end of the page, her eyebrows knitting together in worry. "What the fuck," she whispers. The words are quiet, but venomous. Tobias is tempted to take a step back from her. Her breathing quickens as her eyes dart back and forth and here and there, never quite meeting his. Once they do, he almost wishes they hadn't. "What, the actual, fuck."

"I didn't do this," he declares in a moment of desperation. He's terrified all over again at just how far her reaction will escalate; simultaneously, he wrestles with a cloud of guilt and the realisation that this was his fault. Had he not dragged her into it, none of this would have happened.

Tris scoffs at him. "Are you kidding me?" she spits at him. "Do you think I care whose fault it is? Do you really think it matters if it was you or the president or some anonymous idiot on the streets?" Her voice rises, not quite yelling yet, but if voice octaves are any indicator, her quiet anger is being quickly transformed into white hot rage mixed with searing panic. "You don't get what this means!"

Her eyes are frantic, her voice strained. "Tell me," he pleads. Tobias takes a tenuous step forward and seeks her eyes out with his own, trying to force her to meet his stare. "Tell me what this means so we can work through it. Together."

Tris rolls her eyes like a melodramatic teenager. "This isn't about 'together' and it doesn't have anything to do with you." Her words are acidic, and Tobias knows with certainty precisely where her blame is being directed. "You don't matter right now because you have no idea what this even means for me."

"Then tell me!" he shouts, his hands flying up in the air in frustration. "I'm so damned sick of this game where you tell me nothing and I'm just supposed to hope for the best and trust you blindly. Jesus Christ, Tris, I've told you everything, but you refuse to talk to me and trust me with the truth." Some part of his brain is screaming at him to be more careful. Don't shout too loudly, don't come too close, don't raise your hands at her. Some portion of his brain is still so caught up in being in love with her that it forgets this monumental fight is even happening. Tobias simply shuts those parts of his brain out.

"Don't you think I would if it was that easy?" she demands, her hands balled into tiny fists of frustration at her side. At any other moment he might find it endearing. "Do you think I get off on walking around all sullen and mysterious? Or that I actually wanted to sleep on those shitty street corners freezing my ass off?"

"I don't know, Tris. That's the whole problem!" Tobias has rehashed this exact thought process with himself over and over in his head. He has wondered and questioned and imagined, but he's never asked because he knows better. So, if he can't ask and she's not going to be forthcoming, what the hell does she expect from him? "You kiss me and cook me breakfast and say you fucking love me, but then I ask you to talk — just talk to me — and you shut down like I'm a stranger who means nothing at all to you. You make me feel like an intrusive therapist if I so much as broach the subject!"

Her stare is hard as she seems to think through how to respond next. He fervently hopes she calms down so that maybe he can, too, but instead she just seems all the angrier. "Because it's none of your damned business!" she nearly screams, her whole body shaking with frustration and anger, and, Tobias thinks he detects the slightest bit of fear. "All I want is to forget, okay? I want to forget about the past and get the hell away from it where it can't ever find me. But instead what happens? You put the freaking bat signal in the sky so it can track me back down."

"You know I didn't mean for this to happen," he says, his voice calm now as guilt grabs hold of him again, shoving anger aside for a brief moment. "I did what I could to protect you."

Shaking her head back at him, Tris buries her face in her hands for a moment, not to cry but to collect herself. "I don't want you to try and protect me," she replies, her voice falling quiet again. "Just protect yourself."

The cryptic response once again causes his head to go in a tailspin. He takes two strides towards her and reaches his hands out to grab her shoulders. "I need you to talk to me."

"Or what?" she asks, her breath catching in her throat.

"Or…" he pauses, considering his words carefully before continuing. "I don't know if I can do this anymore."

Tobias removes his hands from her shoulders and walks past her to their bedroom, hisbedroom, he mentally corrects. He shuts the door gently behind him, leaving it unlocked, and disappears into the shower, praying that the hot water will clear his thoughts and that someone will still be on the other side of the door once he emerges.