Tris was a crank.

Clara stared through the glass as a numbing coldness flooded her. 

Part of her had hoped that WICKED had been lying to try and influence her. They couldn't have actually sent up one immune and one non-immune every time the box came up. It was a lie. Even now, looking at Tris, her eyes dark, veins running in and out of her loose dressing gown, Clara couldn't reconcile it with the Tris she knew.

Tris was bright, hopeful. A runner. A good person. She was supposed to make it to the end. They were supposed to make it to the end.

Together.

Clara pressed her lips together to keep herself from crying. She had to get Tris out of here, had to get her to the cures WICKED had. If only she hadn't sent them with Lia. 

Give her the cure, get her out of here. 

Clara shoved the door open. Tris twisted her neck at an uncanny angle to spit and scream, thrashing against the metal restraints. 

Clara refrained from flinching back. She moved through the room, staying out of Tris' range. She rooted through the cabinets, looking for something, anything, that could help. It seemed the doctors had left in a hurry, various vials and tools scattered across the ground in messy heaps. If Clara had more time-- any time-- she would've stopped the scan them and taken what was useful.

Tris continued to scream and thrash, as Clara opened the top stainless steel cupboard, and found one vial of the blue treatment remaining. Her heart jumped. It wouldn't stave off the Flare for long, but it would make her lucid enough that they might have a chance of finding more. From there, she didn't know, but perhaps she could convince Thomas to share his blood. It made Brenda better, it had to help Tris too.

Clara clenched the vial tightly, before approaching Tris with caution. The girl stared, her eyes wholly black. Clara could see now that the foam in her mouth was black. 

A massive explosion rattled the windows, and Clara whipped her neck to look out towards the walls. From their position high in the sky, Clara could see that the main entrance to the city had fallen. In a split second, the city would be overrun, both with protesters and cranks. She cursed. Couldn't Lawrence have waited a few more moments?

Clara took a step closer, ensuring Tris' restraints were tight before she lunged forward and jammed the needle into her thigh, dispensing the treatment. 

Tris immediately began to scream, lashing at Clara.

Clara stumbled back, her chest heaving, the vial unbelievably heavy in her hands. She stared at Tris, watching as she fought her chains. With every second that passed, Clara felt her fear rising, her panic beginning to consume her.

Clara couldn't make it without Tris. They were boxmates. They were sisters. They were going to make it out together.

There was a moment of silence, where Clara just watched Tris, until finally, the treatment started to work.

Her chest still rapidly rising and falling, Clara watched as Tris' eyes cleared, her limbs stilling. 

Clara stayed silent as Tris blinked, regaining her bearings. Slowly, her head turned to face Clara.

There was a moment of quiet.

"Sick eye patch," Tris croaked.

Clara burst out into laughing sobs, running forward and falling on top of Tris, hugging her tight. She removed herself long enough to undo the straps, letting Tris' arms and legs free. 

Tris pushed herself up, scanning the room. Clara could see her arms shuddering under the weight and pressed a firm hand to her back, giving her support.

Tris blinked slowly as she swung her legs off the metal examination table. "What are you doing here? I told Leo not to..." She trailed off.

Clara frowned. What had she told Leo? "I came to get you, we are taking you to the safe haven,"

"Clara," Tris started slowly, her voice weak. "I can't. I'm not going to make it. You weren't supposed to come back for me."

Clara shook her head, trying to silence the roaring that was trying to take over her head, her thoughts. "We are making it together, remember? I have more treatments. They are with the kids. I'll give them to you,"

Clara assisted Tris in hobbling to the door, where the alarm was still blaring. It would be cold outside, and Tris was barefoot in a surgical gown. Quickly, she chucked her helmet to the ground, handing her the thick jacket to wear. They'd have to be fast.

Reluctantly, Tris pulled it on, the collar covering her curly hair. 

"Come on, let's go." 

They exited into the hallway and opened the door to the emergency exit. If anybody noticed them in the chaos of the alarm and the running doctors, they didn't do anything.

It seemed that Jansen and the other soldiers had been distracted by Minho, Newt, Thomas, and Teresa. Clara only had to hope that they got out.

They stumbled down the tall stairs, Tris clinging to Clara. Clara could feel her fingernails digging into her arm as they picked their way down the metal staircase, their feet sending off echoing clangs. Through the tall windows that they passed each time they turned, Clara could see that the fire was spreading across the wall. The streets seemed to be silent, despite the chaos she could hear through the glass. 

They wouldn't have long until cranks tore them apart.

Tris' grip tightened on her arm through the thick shirt Clara was wearing. She was panting heavily next to her. 

"Hold on," Clara murmured. They just had to find the others. Find Thomas, give her the blood. She had to survive. They had to make it together.

"Clara," Tris moaned.

Clara shoved the door with her back, opening it and pulling Tris through. What seemed like eons had passed as they emerged into the dark city. Most of the street lights were flickering. In the distance, Clara could hear the chaotic sound of screams and gunshots, but nothing compared to the roaring in her ears.

They were so close. They had almost made it. 

"Hold on," Clara repeated, pulling Tris with her. Her friend stumbled, falling to the ground, nearly taking Clara with her. 

Clara turned, finding Tris kneeling over on the ground, her chest heaving. Clara pulled her up again and they stumbled together towards the rendezvous point. Brenda and Leo and Gally would be there. They would have the kids. The treatments that Clara had given to Lia. It would all be there. 

Tris would be okay. 

She had to be.

They were going to make it together. 

They made it a couple of blocks. Clara could see blood streaming down Tris' legs from her fall. Little flecks of black mixed into the ruby red. The veins were beginning to spread again. If they had time, she would've stopped to bandage them. But they had to make it. Tris needed the treatment. 

All Clara needed was a little time. 

They came to an empty alley when Tris stumbled and hit the ground again. Her knees cracked against the cobblestone, the echo ricocheting off of the tall walls. There were still a few blocks to go. But they were almost there.

This time, when Clara moved to pick her up again, her heart racing, Tris growled. 

"Don't," Tris heaved. Her dark curls shaded her tanned face. Clara took a step back, a flash of fear striking her veins. "Get away,"

"Tris," Clara tried. "I can get you the treatment. You have to come with me."

Clara tried to approach again.

"Don't!" Tris shouted.

Clara stumbled back a few steps. Tris tilted her head back to look at Clara. Clara could see now that the black veins were spiralling around her neck, choking her friend away.

"Tris," Clara spoke softly. "No, we are going to make it. You have to get up."

Tris shook her head. Clara could still see the whites of her eyes. Tris was doing everything she could to fight it off, give her a few moments.

"Clara," Tris moaned, rolling back to sit on her knees. "Run, please. I don't want to hurt you and I'm not going to make it. One of us has to. It was always going to be you, that's why WICKED chose you," 

Clara could feel herself beginning to cry, her nose beginning to run. "No, no, no. You are coming with me, we have to make it together." 

"Clara," Tris spoke again. Clara could hear the virus stealing her boxmate away. "Everywhere we have been, everything we have done, it has all come to this. You have always been meant to make it. I said we would both make it to keep you going. I've known for a long time that I wouldn't."

Clara let out a sob, wiping her nose with her sleeve. She was faintly aware that it was beginning to snow. Little white flakes fell like stardust into Tris' hair. She was going to freeze. 

"You have to come with me," Clara sobbed. Tears were streaking down the right side of her face. "I can't go without you."

There was a brief flash where the virus swallowed Tris' eyes and she lunged at Clara, knocking her to the ground. 

Clara screamed as they rolled, thrashing against Tris. She managed to kick her off and scramble back, only to realize that Tris had used the distraction to grab the gun holstered at Clara's waist.

Tris twisted the gun, pointing it toward her own forehead. 

Clara screamed, lunging forward, grappling for the gun. A blank shot was fired upwards. 

Clara heaved the gun from her, stumbling back a few steps, watching as Tris hunched over. When she looked up again, her eyes had cleared, watery tears filling them.

"Tris," Clara whispered, staring at her friend. She was faintly aware of a scrape on her arm bleeding.

"Clara," Tris gave her a weak smile. "I'm not going to make it. You know that. Please. Help me go. I won't be a slave to the virus,"

Clara sobbed again, squeezing her eyes tight. "I can't. I won't. I can't let you go. I need you, Tris. We have to make it together."

Tris shook her head. Her curls bounced. "I can't Clara. I can't make it. I need you to kill me. The same way you helped Winston,"

Clara started at Tris' words. Tris laughed at the surprise on her face-- though the sound was croaking.

"Minho told me. He wanted to make sure you'd be okay. Keep close to him, he can help you keep true," Tris swallowed once, and Clara could see now that Tris was crying. "You are a good person, Clara. You were always meant to make it. I want you to keep going, keep working, keep helping everyone you can. Even if it's hard. I want you to make it. I want you to live."

Clara could feel tears dripping into the fabric of her jacket. She didn't have the strength to do it, but let Tris' soft hands guide hers into the small first aid pack she had brought. Clara fumbled as she pulled out the autoinjector with the tranquillizer. 

Slowly she slid to the ground, holding Tris as she went. Her friend was twitching, and Clara could see her hands clenching and unclenching, her fingers turning black at the end. Tris' jaw ticked. 

"Please, Clara," Tris begged, holding onto the sleeve of Clara's shirt. "Make it to the end, make it for me."

Clara sobbed again, but let Tris guide her hand over her thigh. 

Together, they raised the injector and slammed it down into Tris' thigh. Clara waited for a moment, before wailing once, burying her head on Tris' chest, the needle discarded to the side.

Tris' hand was soft on her hair as Clara finally pulled back. She could feel the redness of her nose, the stinging of her eyes, and the dryness of her skin. 

"You're going to have to teach Leo to braid your hair,"

Clara let out a laughing sob, wiping at her undereye. Gently, she aided Tris in settling down, laying her head onto Clara's lap, keeping her legs crossed. Clara stroked her hair. 

"Take this," Tris shuffled slightly, long enough to remove the little gold necklace that she was wearing. "I want you to have it,"

Clara pressed her lips together to keep from crying again, and locked the clasp around her neck, pressing it to her heart.

"Tris," Clara whispered, watching as Tris' movements began to slow, her breathing beginning to still. "I'm glad you were my boxmate."

Tris smiled. "I love you, Clara. Make it to the end for me."

Clara squeezed her hand. "I love you too,"

Only a few seconds passed, before Tris let out a choking breath, and went still.

And just like that.

Her friend. Her boxmate. Her sister. Was gone.

Tris was dead. 

~~~

Hello lovelies!

I hope you enjoyed this chapter, please feel free to vote and comment, I love hearing from you all! This scene was hard to write, as I love Tris, but still, I hope you enjoyed it.

Until next time,

Indigo