It never ends.

I watch from the distance as Tobias drags a thrashing body to the nearest building. The gunshots sound like a billion canons going off from every direction, but somehow always missing me. I hug my gun to my abdomen tighter as I squint and kneel down to notice that the body that Tobias left, leaning against a wall belongs to Peter.

My immediate reaction is to duck under a wrecked pile of ruins and crawl towards Peter. He was shot. And he is not quiet about it.

As I finally sit next to him, glancing at the rebels, he grabs my wrist and starts yanking.

"Peter, stop," I say. "Peter!" Somehow he doesn't take the hint that he is attractive unwanted attention and I glare down at him. It takes me a few seconds to notice that what he has embedded in his stomach is not a bullet, but a thin needle. There are drops of blue dye around his jacket.

"Get it out of me!" Peter screams. I see him throw his head back against the brick wall as if the stone is not about to break his skull.

"You have to be quiet!" I whisper loudly and drape his arm around my shoulders. Why am I helping him? I could just leave him. He doesn't deserve my help after everything he had done.

"Shit..." He says. Now that his face is inches from mine, I notice the thin layer of sweat and stand up. He groans into my shoulder as I force him up with me. I start to run towards an open door in the building, practically dragging him with me and throw myself in. He doesn't make much effort.

I find a trapdoor on the floor and slam my foot against it. It breaks open and to my relief there are stairs.

"Tris!" I turn around to see Christina running towards me. She looks uninjured. Thank God. I furrow my eyebrows as she points her gun at Peter when he groans and puts it back down, rolling her eyes. "He shot?"

"Not with a bullet." I say, as I start climbing down the stairs. "We need to get him down here, and then I can look at the wound."

"What do you mean?" Christina bends down next to him and cringes when she sees the needle. "Why are they shooting needles?"

"I don't know! Just get him down here and call for help!" I'm starting to lose my patience, but thankfully she doesn't notice and gets Peter down into the basement.

We go through another door and Christina runs back up once Peter is safe inside. I loosen the strap from the gun and push it over my head, tossing it somewhere along with the weapon. When I crouch down near the whimpering boy, he looks at me with pleading eyes.

"Just take it out, take it out!" He keeps repeating.

I get tired of hearing this and wrap my fingers around the needle, pilling it out slowly. Peter yelps and groans loudly when it's out. I can't tell if it's a relief or not. Absentmindedly, I unzip his black jacket and push it over his shoulders. The shit underneath gets ripped by my shaky hands and I gape at the wound in his abdomen. I see the blood; pouring out in a neat stream. Some of it is blue, but not the majority. What is that blue dye?

I look back at Peter's face and notice that he's trying to read mine.

"How bad is it?" I'm surprised he can still talk. It looks bad.

"It'll be fine." I lie. In reality, somebody should be stopping the blood from spilling. So I ball up pieces of his shirt and press it against the wound. He groans in response.

"In Candor," he swallows, "they taught us how to recognize the signs of lying."

I don't say anything. When I look back down at my hands, they are covered in red. Peter's blood floods up through the gaps between my fingers and I remember that night with Edward. Somehow that makes me feel less sorry for Peter.

"You're spinning." He croaks before putting his hand on top of mine. "Tris."

"Shut up," I say. "Close your eyes and wait for help." I glare at him seriously, but let his hand linger above mine.

"That's one of the things I love about you." My heart skips a beat and I glue my eyes to his. "Your attitude."

I feel my hands vibrate and realize that Peter is laughing. He stops a moment later, cussing under his breath.

"Stop it. You're making it worse." I spit back, trying to ignore his previous comment.

"If I'm going to die, let me have my say."

"You're not going to die." I don't know why but I think that I know what he wants to say, and I try to cut him off whenever he starts to speak.

"Let me tell you, please." His eyes close, but his smirk remains on his lips and I shake my head. "I don't care if you're with Four."

"Shut up, Peter. You don't get to say that." My glare goes to the running steps behind me and I see the figure of Tobias and Christina. They shout to one another about the enemy.

"Not very Abnegation of you." I hear Peter whisper beneath me and try to focus my eyes on Tobias instead. I tell him what I pulled out earlier and nod when he takes out a flask and removes my hands from the wound.

I stumble back slightly as Tobias unscrews the cap from the flask and pours the transparent liquid onto Peter's wound. When he yells, Christina stuffs some of his shirt (that's not covered in blood) into his mouth.

"He'll be fine," Tobias mumbles. "Stay here for a moment. There are not many soldiers left." I watch him run back up the stairs, leaving a confused Christina next to me, who looks like she is debating between following him and staying here.

Peter cries out weakly and I turn my head back to look at him. His eyes are shut, but his mouth is wide open, letting out silent screams. The cloth rests near his head.

"You okay?" I feel Christina's hand on my shoulder and nod, patting her hand. I watch Peter's hands clench and unclench as he moves from side to side in pain. But the wound is better. At least the bleeding stopped.

I don't remember what happened but the streets above us fell silent. I am left in the basement with Peter's head in my lap. Tobias, and Tori came back to check up on everyone but then left for patrol when they decided that this is a pretty safe place. So now I watch Christina and Uriah try to open canned food in the corner. They found some used candles and lit them around the room. At least that gave this place a warm feeling.

I feel Peter's head move in my lap and look down at him. He stares up at me with sleepy eyes as I run a hand through his hair. It had dried blood on it.

"Are we in Heaven?" I have no idea when he decided to get flirty, but it better stop soon. I smirk and shake my head.

"No," I say. "We found a safe place. Just don't try to move."

"I wouldn't if I was told to." His face presses against my stomach and I feel him gulp. I lean my head back against the wall and sigh. "You wouldn't kiss me if I asked, right?"

"No," I say as I shake my head. "No way."

"Maybe someday." I open my eyes and see that he is looking up at me.

"Peter..." I brush some hair out of his face. I don't know where all this came from. He is supposed to hate me.

"Fine." His Adam's apple bobs as he closes his eyes again. And that was the end of the conversation. Or so I thought. What comes out of my mouth surprises me.

"I didn't say never."