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[This fanfic doesn't take place after Allegiant, the third book in the series. It takes place after Divergent, and I built the world differently than Veronica Roth after the first book ended.]

The choosing ceremony is always dead silent once the announcer asks for questions. Not even the Candor talk, which must be difficult. Still, the silence is haunting. And before I know it, I'm raising my hand. While a lady at the front scans the audience for hands. Once she sees mine, a look of confusion crosses her face. "Yes?" She finally says warily.

"Um," I try to make my voice loud enough for the whole crowd to hear. "Does choosing Dauntless come with a free relationship?" Laughter all around, a bit held back but still satisfying enough. Of course, I was telling the legendary story of Four and Tris. Or, as most call it, Fourtris. Interesting enough, they were both Abnegation-born and Dauntless-transferred. But his isn't their story; it's mine.

Back to the present, the announcer rolls her eyes, probably at the endless blabbing of Candor girls like me. That's right, I'm one of them. I'm not necessarily proud of it, but it is what it is. My Aptitude Test told me that I would be good in Erudite. I'm not proud of that either, I mean, Erudite have a pretty bad reputation for ruining the faction system before the Rebuilding. They've obviously changed their ways, but they still get some nasty looks from Abnegation. Their selfless souls are nice enough to give... glares and criticism. All hard feelings aside, they did host the legendary Fourtris until they were sixteen, so they're okay in my book. Even the most conceited of souls agree that Fourtris is better than them. Anyway, I've gone off on a tangent again.

I watch as an Amity boy swaggers up to the podium, dumping a drop of fresh blood onto the soil representing his home faction's agricultural background. I lean forward in my seat, knowing my name is next. My name is close to the end of the ceremony. Lucky for me, initiates have long since dozed off and stopped paying attention.

"Willow Eaton," my name is called. Yes, Eaton, as in Tobias Eaton. I'm his daughter. And Beatrice; she's my mother. At least there was a good reason why I kept bringing up Fourtris. To be honest, I wasn't even supposed to know this. The government thought I would be too "legendary" so they were going to wipe my memory. But that would kind of screw up the idea if a serum-less nation. There's only one serum allowed here; the Divergence serum. A skilled team of Erudites came up with it, and it makes any genetically damaged folk into divergents. The government can't control us anymore. It's not like it would have mattered to me. I'm the daughter of two divergents. When I was young, they put me in Candor (randomly chosen) while my parents went off to fight.

Snapping out of the flashback, I suddenly find myself at the table. I can feel my heart pounding, so distracting that I don't feel the pain of my hand, recently cut by the knife on the table. I watch blood swells into a full drop, clinging to my hand for a solid moment before it falls. Into the bowl of which I was holding my hand over. Abnegation, Amity, Candor, Dauntless, Erudite. Wait, which one did I choose? It happened so fast. Finally the word of the announcer brings me out of my trance. "Dauntless." I stare at her blankly. That's right. I had put my hand over the bowl with burning coals. Did I hear her correctly? Upon looking, I see a drop of thick red blood slowly disappearing into blackened coals. So I did choose Dauntless.

Surprised, I turn around. The Dauntless section of the crowd is cheering wildly. I don't have anyone to look back at as I make my way to them, and an excited initiator shakes my hand, slapping me on the back. "Just like her parents." I briefly hear someone yell the words before I sit down in one of the empty Dauntless seats. I begrudgingly sit through the rest of the ceremony, until the announcer finally tells us to leave. I stay for a minute, watching the factions. Four of them an orderly line of citizens, and one stampeding outside... In fact, I should probably start running. So I do.

I could go on and tell you about initiation, but I'll spare you the trouble in a very montage-like group of sentences. First the jump onto the train, then the jump through the roof. I wasn't the first jumper; that was a Dauntless-born. Physical training was alright, and mental was easy, considering we're all divergent. And, unlike my mother, I haven't found a relationship yet. Speaking of my mother and father, they should be coming back any week now. I got the news from one of the Dauntless initiators. Uncle Caleb also calls me every day, bringing me news and fun chatter. Okay, that should be it for the montage.

Today is game day, when Dauntless go out through the city playing meaningless games to display bravery and strength. In the beginning, every initiate can choose which games to take part in. I, being the daughter of Fourtris, chose capture the flag. But one thing you won't see me doing is climbing the Ferris wheel. I'm deathly afraid of heights. Once the game begins, dusk is creeping onto Chicago. Within thirty minutes, I guess, the world would be dark. My group is pretty decent, but they think I'm underrated and should be on scout duty, since my parents... Well, you know.

"No," I insist. "I'll hide the flag." Once the group reluctantly agrees, I dart off into the city's almost-darkness.

"Wait!" I suddenly hear from behind me. I load my gun and turn around, ready for a sudden attack. As soon as I see the blue glow stick hanging from his belt, I lower the weapon.

"Be quiet," I hiss in his ear. "Do you want them to find us?" Through the faint lights seeping through the windows of buildings above, I can make out an outline of his face. Strong, determined features, yet with a light and playful look in his eyes. Intriguing, yet mysterious.

"I was told to follow you for backup," the boy whispers. "Do you mind if I tag along?" He slings his gun over his shoulder. I blush, and force my eyes to look away from him.

"No, no, I don't mind," I say, trying to keep my voice quiet yet confident. Again I find myself staring at his face.

"So where should we hide the flag?" he asks after what must have been a minute.

"Oh! That's right," I say. We run into the darkness of the night, eventually finding an old work garage, way past long abandoned. The boy shuts the door behind us as I search the shelves leaned against the wall, feeling my way through the darkness. He sees my trouble and flicks on a light. I'm pleasantly surprised by the fact that it works. We're still panting from the run, but the boy brought water. He takes a sip and offers it to me, so I waterfall some into my mouth instead of letting my lips touch it. We end up deciding to stuff the flag into a rusty oil can, so we can have unpredictability on our side. We turn off the light and duck into a corner to hide. We wouldn't want passerby to see us and wonder what's being guarded.

"Where are you from?" I ask, a bit too suddenly. He doesn't seem fazed by it, though.

"I'm pure Dauntless," he says slowly. "And you?" Wait, he doesn't know who I am? That's a nice change.

"Candor," I reply.

"My mother was a Candor, before the choosing."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah." He clears his throat, and I change my position so I'm hugging my knees against the wall. "How much do you know about Fourtris?" He looks at me, waiting for an answer. I feel like laughing.

"Quite a bit," I decide, smiling. He continues.

"Do you know about Tris' friend, Christina?" Finally it clicks.

"Your mom!" I exclaim. "You're Albert!" Named after the suicidal initiate of my parents' generation. He nods, smiling slightly.

"Call me Al. And it's so annoying when people assume I'm a legend," he tells me.

"Yup, it's so irritating," I agree. Then I realize what I said. "Um, I mean..."

Al stops me. "I know who you are, Willow. Named after who your mother killed. Four and Tris, they're your parents. And you Candor are bad liars." He sighs. I nod meaninglessly. I should have known. We sit in silence for more than a moment, before a twig snaps towards the door. I rest my hand on my gun, listening for anything.

"-would have guarded it," one voice says.

"But I saw it glowing," another insists. I look to the can, where sure enough, a faint blue light protrudes. I silently curse, regretting the fact that I hadn't put the cap on. I lift my gun, ready to shoot, when Al pushes it down. Confused, I lower it. Why wouldn't he want me to shoot? Was he trying to betray me? I look to his waist, at his glow stick. But it's not blue, it's orange. I look into his eyes, where a sly smirk crosses his face. He's on the other team?

I whip my head around, where two orange team members are staring; confused at the blue glow stick they'd pulled out of the can. Not a flag. Al laughs, standing up, armed with a gun. I can see my team's blue flag tucked into the pocket of his black Dauntless pants. Before I can take action, he aims his gun at me. Trying to act afraid, I back against the wall. "See how you can't trust anyone?" Al says tauntingly.

"Yeah," I reply defiantly. Suddenly, I swing my leg around, tripping Al. His weapon falls and I snatch it up, yanking my flag out of his pocket. Hurriedly, I shoot him in the leg with his own gun. When he cries out in pain, I quickly fire at the two Dauntless in the shed. I lock the shed door from the outside, just for good measure.

I stare at the open landscape, where a blue-against-orange war has broken out. I watch peacefully until one of my team members holds up an orange flag which means we won. I smile and unlock the shed, where Al and the other initiates are waiting. "Game's over," I tell them before they draw their guns.

"Nice job, Willow. No hard feelings, right?" says Al. But there's something in his eye... A shot rings out and I fall to my knees. Pain blossoms in my left calf, and I cry out.

"Should've... Moved... Knew you were lying..." I manage to blubber. At least we're even. He must think this, too, because he pulls the neuro-stim dart out of my leg and helps me up, lauhing all the while.

"Only lasts a few minutes," he tells me.

"So can we wait a minute?" I groan, leaning against a wall for support.

"Oh, don't be ridiculous," he says, making his way to me. Al throws his arm around me, pulling me close to him. My heart begins to beat faster as he pulls my arm so that it's around him, and we are holding each other so I can walk with one foot. He smiles at me, and I smile back weakly. As I half-limp toward the Dauntless compound, we talk about our parents.

"What if they saw us now, being friends and all," Al says, and we laugh. Friends, I absently think.

"And shooting each other?" I comment. "How friendly." I can see that we're approaching the compound, and the pain in my calf has been dying down. We stop walking.

"Well, we don't exactly have to be friends," Al says nonchalantly, looking into my eyes. I notice that he's still holding me, even though I've put my left leg on the ground. Though chatter from the pit rings out loud and clear, I can't help but thinking it's awfully silent in here. Al suddenly coughs, letting go of me. We separate, and I blush furiously. "Well, good night, Willow," he says, ducking away into the crowd before I can reply.

My sleep tonight is disturbed by nightmares. First, I watch in horror as a teenage boy throws himself off the chasm. Chills run up my spine as my young mother walks in to his dead body, knowing that she had lost a dear friend. He must have been Al. Then the landscape dissipates into the streets of Chicago. Who I assume is Will runs toward my mom, and she is forced to shoot him. I try to look away, but I can't. I watch his body crumple onto the dead street and I cry out in terror. When I wake up, I'm sweating and my heart is racing. To my relief, I'm back in the bed of my apartment. I push my head into my pillow until my breathing slows and I feel awake. Time to get ready for the day.

"Wow!" My friend Flora says when she sees me. "You slept in for once. Did you have a rough night? Stuck in an existential crisis again?" Before I can answer any of her questions, Al approaches us. I hear Flora gasp. "Oh my gosh, the legends are together! Can you believe it? I would totally ship you guys! You're so cute together, I'll leave you alone but I'll be right back, okay bye!" She says, all in one breath, bolting away from us once she's done.

"Ugh, Candor," Al mumbles, crinkling his nose in disgust. "Terrible." I elbow him in the arm. "Oh come on Willow, I didn't mean it." He looks at me, seeming to be begging for forgiveness.

"Alright, fine," I tell him. "I won't kill you today." He laughs at my joke, even though it wasn't that funny.

"I'm gonna go get some lunch, wanna come?" I nod and we walk to the Dauntless café together. As we walk, we talk about pointless things like the tattoo parlor and new initiates. Suddenly, mid-conversation, Al freezes, his eyes locked on something behind me, since I have my back towards the window, it must be something outside. I turn around. A war plane sat on the pavement, small and equipped with guns. There are people jumping out of it, even though the drop has to be over ten feet. So what's so interesting? Wait, the people jumping out of the plane. They're...

Suddenly I find myself bolting out the door alongside Al. People turn their attention to us. Time stops when I stare into my parents' eyes. I throw myself into their arms. "Mom," I gasp through heavy breathing. "Dad." I pull away to look at them, the two people I love more than anything else, even if I haven't seen them for eight years.

My mother is as beautiful as ever, my father looking handsome and strong. For a second we're speechless, stunned by each other's presence. "You're Dauntless," my mom finally says. "I know," I say, overcome with emotion. My dad laughs.

"Thank God you didn't stay in Candor." I smile, remembering on the stories how Christina had been yelled at by my dad for being snappy. Wait, Christina. I look to my right, where Al was reuniting with his parents; Christina and some distant relative of Will's. "Have you met Albert yet?" Asks Dad, following my gaze. I nod.

"We were just having lunch together." When he raises an eyebrow, I know I've said the wrong thing.

"Hasn't anyone ever told you not to go off with some Dauntless guy you just met when you're new and he's not?" He scolds me, then looks at my mother. "Oh wait..." We all laugh at the irony. My mother places a hand on my cheek.

"You're so grown up, Willow." I place my hand over hers, starting into her eyes, remembering my dreams. She's been through so much. And my dad, he's been abused and mistreated, used and misunderstood. We hug again, before we're told by the military director that my parents have to go through security before they can see me again. They promise to meet at the Ferris wheel tonight.

Al and I walk back to the café together, where we're immediately pointed out by Flora. I groan and Al laughs.

"Where were you guys?" She says, crossing her arms and raising her eyebrows.

"We were just talking to our families, you know, the ones we haven't seen in eight years." Albert shrugs. "No big deal."

The rest of the day went off smoothly; I prepared my apartment for my parents' visit, and then Al and I decide to wait at the Ferris wheel, since that was where they'd said they'd meet us. The sun was just starting to set, and the sky was filled with beautiful watercolors. The bench that we are sitting on is cool, and the air is thin and refreshing. I haven't said a word, and neither has he. Silence creeps across the city. Time ticks by.

Al yawns, stretching his arm out. It doesn't land by his side, though. It lands across my shoulders, resting on the bench. What. Just. Happened. He must see me freeze, because he starts to lower it. "No! Er, I mean, uh... It's fine. Nice, actually." Well that was a legitimate sentence.

"That's good to hear, coming from a Candor," Al says.

"I'm Dauntless," I reply, almost bitterly. As you may have noticed, I'm in no rush to remember my past. Candor isn't who I am. It's who I was.

"That's right," says Al. "Sorry." I shrug in response, not-so-accidentally shrugging his hand off my shoulder. He looks down and I clear my throat uncomfortably. The awkwardness is tangible; I can feel it in the air. Lucky for me, I won't have to sit through it for much longer.

I can see Four and Tris, alongside Christina and her husband of which I've never met. They're laughing and joking about some story, having a grand old time while their children watch. When they finally see us, we leap up from the bench. I run into my parents' arms once again, this time hanging on for a little longer. "You're staying here for real, right?" I ask, still clinging to them like a homesick puppy.

"Yes, Willow," my father tells me. I grin, a genuine smile out of happiness. My parents are here- and they're staying. Forever. When we separate, my parents look up at the huge Ferris wheel, marveling at its height.

"Can you believe we climbed that?" My mom says to Four. He just laughs nervously, probably remembering the moment. Then he gestures to the wheel.

"You wanna go climb that, Willow?" His words echo across the empty landscape. I shake my head forcefully and take a step away from it. He smiles slightly. "Neither did I." That must have been where I got that fear.