Hey! Here's my second Divergent fic, a mutltichapter too. Hope you like it.
Just for warnings, updates maybe really slow, as I have my exams nearby, and can hardly write. But please don't give up on it.
Please R & R!
Disclaimer: I don't own Divergent, and any dialogue you recognize here.
The last thing I hear is a gunshot, and the last thing I feel is pain. My vision goes dark at the edges, and I know that this is over. The string's pull is heavier than ever, calling me to sleep.
And then I see my mother. She looks exactly as I saw her when she died — Abnegation grey, dull blonde hair, and arms bare, showing the tattoos.
"Hello, Beatrice," she says. Her eyes are bright.
"Am I done yet?" I ask, wondering if I am only imagining this, if I am even saying the words for real.
"Yes," she says, and tears sparkle in her eyes. "My dear child, you have done so well."
"What about the others?" I ask, choking as I imagine Tobias' face. "Tobias, Caleb, my friends?"
"They'll take care of each other," she says. And then pauses, her head tilted just a little to the side. She seems to want to say more.
"There's a but, isn't it?" I ask. I wonder what it is that I hear in my voice, hope that I can, by some chance, still be with them, or trepidation, that I don't want to hear what it is, that I don't want to stand up to any more challenges, that my body just wants to sleep.
"Yes. Yes there is, you clever girl," she laughs tearfully. "But only if you want there to be."
I only stare at her questioningly, unable to voice my confusion. I feel too weak.
"You can have one more chance," she says. "One more chance to go back and solve all this. Or you can come to me, and rest forever."
I freeze. A choice. I look at my mother, and see her loving face, and the temptation to rest feels stronger than ever. All these years of fighting and searching for a home... do I even want this anymore? But then I see Tobias' face, and hear his voice, "To wake up and realise that you were... gone..." and I understand that there really is no choice at all.
"I want to go back," I say, or rather, hear myself say, but I know that this is what I want. Tears fill my mother's eyes, but her smile widens.
"I knew you would choose this," she whispers. "Well done."
And she closes the distance between us and presses her lips to my forehead.
"I love you," she says. "Be brave, Beatrice."
And before I have a chance to speak, everything around me turns white. And then black.
I wake to the feeling of cold blades at the back of my neck. I jerk violently, making the scissors clatter to the floor.
"Beatrice," someone gently reprimands from behind me. "What is it? I nearly sheared the side of your head off!"
But I don't pay any attention to the words, because all I can think of is the voice. I swivel in my seat.
It's my mother.
She looks so different from the last time I saw her. Her grey dress covers the entirety of her body, even her arms , which I now know are covered in tattoos. Her hair is neatly tied in a braid at the back of her head. And there are no bullet wounds upon her.
For a long moment I stare at her, and then, before I know it, I have launched myself in her arms, and am holding on to her tightly. She is solid. She smells of soap, and a little flowery fragrance, a smell I have come to associate since childhood with safety. My mother is alive. She is here. I choke back the tears that bubble up with difficulty as I bury my face into her shoulder.
I am back. Maybe this is a world where everything is fixed, where those I love aren't dead.
But my mother stiffens ever so slightly in my arms, and I back away. What is it?
"Are you alright, Beatrice?" she asks, her expression worried.
"Y-yes, mom," I work on keeping my voice steady, and sit back down. " I — just, I love you. So much."
She nods, her eyes softening. "I love you too," she says. I eye the scissors in her hand.
"I'll let you do your work."
I sit obediently, hearing the snip-snip of the scissors and relishing the feeling of her hand on my head as she holds me in place. As I sit, impulsively, my eyes stray to the mirror, and I stare.
I look nothing like I expected. My eyes and nose are still too big for my face, and my hair is still the same blonde, but everything else... I seem smaller. Younger. More vulnerable. My body has curves, not the taut muscles I was used to. And there is no tattoo on my collarbone. Well, I wouldn't know if there is one, because I am covered till neck up in Abnegation grey. And my hair is long, falling past my shoulders to my back where my mother trims it.
I stare at the mirror, unable to shift my gaze, and my mother's eyes meet those of the round, shocked ones of my reflection. She looks curious. Seconds tick away as I just stare, and a frown creases her forehead. I finally look away, trying to comprehend what this means.
One more chance to go back, Mom had said when I was dying. But she didn't just mean going back to life. She was referring to going back in time.
This is the past. Which explains why I am in my house, why my mother is still alive, and why I am wearing grey.
When is this? I wonder to myself. When was the last time Mom cut my hair?
My brain provides the answer quickly enough. The day before the Choosing Ceremony.
Oh God.
I sit silently as she works. She pins my hair in place when she is done.
"There," she says, and pauses a little. "So today is the day."
That confirms my idea of what the day is.
"Yes," I reply automatically.
"Are you nervous?"
I don't reply immediately, lost in thought. For the aptitude test? No, I am not. I already know what is coming, and what it means. But for everything else, yes. More than I even thought I could be. Somewhere out there, there are my friends. Christina. Will. Uriah. Tobias. And even beyond, there are so many other things. The whole wide world, much bigger than what I once thought it was.
"No," I reply, truthful at least to the context. What had I said this time, back then? Ah, yes. "The tests don't have to change our choices."
But they do. They do. They did mine. Or maybe they didn't. I don't know. Because in the end, it was apparently down to GDs and GPs.
"Right." She smiles. "Let's go eat breakfast."
After all this time in Dauntless, I have practically forgotten to be Abnegation. "Thank you," I say still. It comes naturally. In the past, I had thanked her for just cutting hair, but now it's for so much more — saving my life, being so brave and selfless. As I walk into the kitchen with her, I silently pledge to not let her die this time.
Looking at my dad makes a lump form at my throat. But this time, I know better than to hug him outright, so I savor the sensation as he strokes my hair at the table. Whatever my differences with my father had been, I still love him. He is still on the second on my 'to save' list that I've been forming in my head. The peace and calm at the dining table is something I have missed so badly. Dauntless has been my home, but this is my home, too. It will be, forever.
Once we board the bus, I know there is no way of avoiding Caleb anymore. Every time I look at him, I can't help get the bitter taste of betrayal in my mouth. I didn't talk to him today as of yet, not knowing if I could control my responses, but I will have to, soon.
He is your brother, I tell myself. He got ready to die to get over the guilt. And he loves you. And I know that I love him too. I gave up my life for him. I forgave him then. Will I still hold on to the grudge, for a crime he hasn't even committed yet?
But will he? Will it be the same this time, him being a suck-up to Jeanine Matthews, betraying his family and ex-faction? That is another thing I hope to change, somehow.
I stare at Caleb now as his eyes travel around every person in the bus. Earlier, I had thought this to be his efforts at forgetting himself, but now I know that it is only observation, an Erudite quality, if I still refer by the factions. Anger rises once again like a striking snake in my heart, but I force myself to calm down. This is a fresh start. I will not bias my judgment with old grudges.
So instead of staring at the scenes that I have already seen once, and thinking of a test which I know all too well, I think of the events I need to change. First of all, there is the Erudite simulation attack. I must stop it at all costs. But at its heels comes the fear — what will stopping it lead to? One event leads to the other, forming a chain. Breaking a link off the chain can lead to the change in the entire pattern altogether.
My head is still spinning with worries when we reach school. The worst is being the only one to know the future; I can't possibly tell anyone. This is a secret worse and more dangerous than being Divergent; that hardly bothers me any longer, except making me more wary to guard my secret. The expectations are also high; I cannot wait to see Christina and Uriah and Tobias once again.
"Beatrice?" I turn to see Caleb at my side. His green eyes are bright and his expression one of concern.
"Yes?" I ask, keeping my voice leveled. He takes my arm as I walk into the building.
"Are you okay? You have been very focused on something throughout."
"Aptitude tests today," I give as an excuse. Thankfully, he nods, buying it. "You aren't at all worried about what they'll tell you?" I ask conversationally. I know the answer, of course. While I had been worrying my brains through, his decision had been made years ago.
"Are you?" He raises an eyebrow, avoiding the question.
"No," I smile. I am not, not this time.
The crowd of students jostle around, the day of the Aptitude Tests causing somewhat of a mania in the atmosphere. Students push me around, the grey colour of my attire inviting their disdain. My temper becomes shorter and harder to keep as I walk, shoved and yelled past. As I make my way to Faction History, an Erudite boy pushes me.
"Out of my way, Stiff!" he snaps. I stumble, but my feet stay on the ground, all the habits in Dauntless keeping me steady. My fuse blows. Before I know it, my fist collides with his jaw, causing him to fall to the floor.
"Maybe you should see where you are going first," I retort, my face hot with anger. The boy stares at me, his mouth open, rubbing his jaw, where a bruise is showing. All around me in the corridor, people are standing and staring at me like I have grown a second head. I duck my head, blushing, and move on.
As Christina would have put it, my Dauntless is showing. Control, Tris, I chastise myself. Act like Abnegation at least till the Choosing.
I look out of the window as the Dauntless jump out of the train. The sight sings out to me, calling me to join them, and I resist with difficulty. Soon, I tell myself. Soon.
The classes go in a blur as I sit through them without following anything, waiting for the Tests. And finally it is time. I walk to the cafeteria where we are supposed to wait, my head cool and clear and my heartbeat steady, unlike last time, when I was suffering from a bad case of sweaty palms.
I sit with Susan and Caleb at the assigned table. But my eyes drift to the other tables. At a nearby table, I spot Uriah and Marlene, laughing and playing cards, and my lips twitch up in a fond smile. In the Candor table, my eyes find Drew sitting among the others. I wonder where the other two are — Peter and Molly.
All the other tables make some level of noise — the Amity and the Dauntless with their games, and the Candor and Erudite with their debates. The silence and stillness of the Abnegation feels disconcerting to me now, after being used to the rowdy fun of Dauntless. The urge to leave becomes stronger than ever. I resist the urge to break the silence with some joke, or even by tapping my feet. Selfless, I remind myself. Forget yourself. It feels strange to restrain myself after being free, uninhibited, for so long.
One by one, the candidates are called up. I see Susan purse her lips, her left eye twitching — a sign of nervousness. But my mind remains unburdened. It's just a repeat of what has been. I know what to expect.
But as I sit waiting for my name to be called for the test, the cogwheels of my brain keep turning. When my test results came inconclusive, Tori had to go through a lot of trouble to hide it. It had also caused Jeanine to suspect what I was. So now that I know, should I try to fake a result? Have the tests give me Dauntless, or if not, at least only one faction instead of three? Can I do it?
Caleb's name is called, and I stare at his back as he leaves. I already know where he is going, even if he might not. What a good actor he was.
When Caleb returns, his face is chalk-white. I wonder what his Aptitude Test revealed to make him so nervous. He had never told me.
My thoughts, centering Caleb's results and my own dilemma about my upcoming actions in the simulation are broken as Susan and I are called up. I thought I was calm, but now my palms start sweating. I haven't made a decision about what I should do yet.
I walk into the room where I had last time, room 6, where Tori's slanted eyes and black blazer greet me. As our eyes meet, I am momentarily transported to the Fence, Tori's bloodied body under my fingertips, so still, dead. She was so close to her brother, even though she did not know it. Forcefully, I wrench myself back to the reality. No good thinking about things that haven't happened yet. Think about the present. Think about now.
"No need to be afraid," Tori smiles at me kindly enough, evidently misinterpreting my horror at the vision for nervousness. "It doesn't hurt."
I feel beads of sweat cling to my forehead. Tori's alive. Focus on that.
I sit down in the chair, the likes of which I have seen so many times, and remain silent as Tori speaks. I don't bother asking about the tattoo on her. I know about that already.
Tori connects the electrodes and passes me the vial of the simulation serum. I drink it without questioning. My eyes close.
I open my eyes, and there I am, in the empty school cafeteria again. On the table in front of me are two baskets. In one is the hunk of cheese, and in the other, the knife.
Behind me, a woman's voice says, "Choose." Jeanine.
I think about my choices. Cheese indicates Amity, maybe even Abnegation. If I want Dauntless, I'll need the knife. Against my better judgment, I pick it up.
The baskets disappear. I hear a door squeak and turn to see the dog standing behind me, its hackles raised and teeth bared. It crouches low and creeps towards me, and a growl gurgles from deep in its throat. I clutch the knife more tightly in my hand. This is simple. I know what to do.
But as I look at the dog, the images flash in my mind — its nose, digging against me, its wet tongue, licking. It is innocent. If I kill it, I'll be killing an innocent creature. And then the images flicker, one after the other — Will's vacant eyes as I point the gun, the Abnegation leader, held at gunpoint. People, innocent people, falling under my gun. Uriah, crumpled on the floor. My mother. My father. I can't do it. I have seen too many innocent people die. I have killed too many. I can't do it.
The knife slips from my hand and falls to the floor.
I sink to the ground on my knife, eyes downcast, waiting for the animal to come. It crouches over to me, and sniffs at the knife suspiciously. A couple of seconds pass, my heart hammering. And then it is all how it went last time — a wet tongue touches my cheek. I can't help it; a laugh bubbles up from within me. And I am so glad I didn't kill it.
I blink, and when my eyes open, a child stands across the room wearing a white dress. She stretches out both hands and squeals, "Puppy!" As she runs toward the dog at my side, the dog turns, and makes its way towards her, snarling and barking. This time I don't even have to think; I leap, and wrap my arms around the dog's neck. One second I am grasping the warm, rough fur, and the next, I hit the floor, my arms empty. The first simulation is over.
The second one, the bus scene, is easy. I lie even more easily than the last time. My heart rate doesn't even pick up. And then I blink, and I am back in the chair.
Tori is frowning at me. Uh, oh, I think.
"That was perplexing," she says as she pulls the wires from my head. "I'll be right back."
So it was no use. I'll still be called Divergent. I couldn't do it; I couldn't fake my test. But I don't feel too bad; I am glad I didn't kill the dog. I don't want to kill anyone unless it is necessary.
Tori re-enters the room.
"Sorry to worry you," she says. But am I mistaken, or is the tension on her face less this time? "Beatrice, your test results were inconclusive."
Oh. Again.
"Typically, each stage of the simulation eliminates one or more of the factions, but in your case, only two have been ruled out."
"Two?" I ask, hoping that my acting is believable.
Tori nods.
"Your tendency towards Dauntless was shown when you picked up the knife. But then it became unconfirmed when you refused to kill the dog. The bus simulation ruled out Candor, and that you didn't pick the cheese ruled out Amity. But you show aptitude for Dauntless, Erudite and Abnegation." Her voice lowers to a whisper. "The people who get this kind of result are called Divergent."
I really hope my shock looks real, because I don't feel any. I knew this was to happen. I was just hoping to avoid detection.
"Beatrice," Tori says, "under no circumstances should you share that information with anyone. This is very important."
"We aren't supposed to share our results." I nod, acting innocent. "I know that."
"No." Tori kneels next to the chair now and places her arms on the armrest. "This is different. I don't mean you shouldn't share them now; I mean you should never share them with anyone, ever, no matter what happens. Divergence is extremely dangerous. You understand?"
I didn't then, but I do now. I nod. "Okay."
"I'd have to enter your results manually," Tori mutters almost to herself. "But..."
I blink. A but? There isn't supposed to be one.
"But your results can be disguised as Dauntless. There is a part of Dauntless manifesto which says —"
"'We believe in ordinary acts of bravery, in the courage that drives one person to stand up for another,'" I say before I can stop myself. Tori nods, her eyebrows raised.
"Exactly. How do you know?"
I blush. A slip. "A friend told me." A friend whom I killed. And who I am yet to meet. I am not sure I have the courage to see him again.
"Yes. Even though the Dauntless don't quite seem to follow it anymore, it will work. You refused to kill an innocent, but your picking up the knife is definitely Dauntless." She nods to herself. "Yes, that will do."
I feel my heart swell. This is what I was hoping for. Jeanine suspected the truth about me because my test results were manually entered. Now she won't know. Besides, I already have a confidant in Tori, who knows I am Divergent.
"I suggest," Tori continues, "that you go home. You have a lot of thinking to do, and waiting with the others may not benefit you."
"I have to tell my brother where I'm going," I say dutifully.
"I'l let him know."
I nod and step towards the door. "And Beatrice?" Tori calls after me. "If you ever need to tell someone the results, say Dauntless."
I nod again. Tori's worried expression melts into a smile.
"And maybe if I guess rightly about your decision," she says, "welcome to Dauntless."
So what do you think about it? What will Tris do to correct things? Will the things remain the same, even?
Until next time!