AS soon as Tris dropped to the ground, she felt dizzy and exhausted. Sounds, lights, and fear took over the rational side of her mind, and the only control was the soft gentle lull of David's voice, telling her everything would be okay. She wished she could run when the doctor went to inject her. Unknown to most people, she hated most medications, especially syringes and needles. Shaking off the fear, she listened to David and the doctor frantically converse. Still tired, and helpless, she listened as the doctor warned about money with a heavy heart. She would most likely never be able to pay for something so expensive.<br/><br/>Just as all hope seemed lost, David asked if he could pay. Tris blinked, and tried to move, to shout, to do anything to deter the boy. What was he thinking? Paying for a lowly street girl like that? Then, just as quickly, those feelings were replaced by an inexplicable warmth. Someone cared about her. In all her life, Tris could hardly remember anyone like that, except for the bakery cat. Tris felt surprised, and ecstatic. Forcing any remaining feelings away, she embraced this.... Oh what was it called? Concern? Care? Maybe, it was the elusive thing she had contemplated so much as a street urchin. Maybe this feeling she had found was love.<br/><br/>Tris stirred. "For the life of my of me, I hate those," she murmured weakly, just as David finished speaking. She opened her eyes, looking into his kind face weakly.