I don't own Divergent!
The dust swept across the train tracks spiraling into oblivion; it wasn't as if they had been occupied in a while. The Dauntless's habitual ways of bounding out of the carts hadn't been practiced in several weeks, and it showed.
The war on the factions had ceased. Although it was over the conditions didn't improve, it was worse in a different sort of way.
The draft of wind blew harder acutely stinging the young woman's face which was covered under an assortment of scarves knotted around her mouth. The young man accompanying her drew her close, and through the scarves and jackets, tears stained their faces. They didn't acknowledge them though; they were already present the day before.
Fluidly the young man in two quick strides leaped into a vacant train cart pulling the young woman along with him. She didn't protest when he threw his scarf out to ride the gusts of wind even though the scarf was needed; the temperature seemed to have plummeted. She hadn't protested in a week.
The young man dropped to the floor squaring his knees, and pulled the young woman to him so that they shared the same air, the same level intimacy. As the tears spilled from both of their eyes the wind whistled wildly providing a distraction from their worries.
"Why?" the young woman whispered, her voice was so low, so undeniably hoarse.
The young man didn't provide an answer only drawing her closer and pressing his lips to her temple slowly. As the train screeched to a halt they both didn't show any signs of rising to exit.
Reminiscing in the past became a habit for the two, whenever the mourning became too draining.
"Tris, we need to get up," the young man whispered to her.
"I don't want to Tobias, I don't think- I can't..." She mumbles the words and shivered.
Tobias tightened his grasp on her shoulders embracing her closer so that his heat would reach her. He wasn't cold, he couldn't feel a thing.
"We have to Tris, come on I'll help you up," he said. He didn't attempt to rise though; he was too exhausted from the tears.
"What have we come to? The factions, it's all gone! We're locked up inside the fence, and so many people Tobias," her voice caught at his name fading in a soft whimper. "So many people gone."
Her chest expanded and contracted rapidly hitching every so often until Tobias rocked her in his arms slowly lulling her to a stupor.
She had lost so many people. People dear to her. Her family, friends, and her brother Caleb had even perished in the struggle of the factions. That's what it was, a struggle, nobody had won and the people who were left slowly faded.
Tobias didn't want to fade. The voice in his head might've almost convinced him if it weren't for Tris. She had lost so much more than him, and she was still coping. The tears that constantly stained his eyes shouldn't be present. They shouldn't, but so many people.
So many people lost.
His friends, none of them were alive. All in their own way had faded to nothing. As Tobias rocked Tris back and forth in him arms he scanned the train carts. There was a fleeting laugh and a giggle following it flashed with an arm of a person.
It sounded like Uriah.
Tobias shook his head and breathed slowly. He couldn't take anymore hallucinations.
"Tobias..." Tris's voice had sounded. "I heard Uriah."
The laugh sounded again, and Tobias abruptly stood up still embracing Tris. His hands found their way to the part where her arms joined her shoulder and underneath her knees.
"Uriah... He's dead Tris. It can't be him," Tobias said quietly. A sharp pain gripped his gut for his best friend's brother.
His dead best friend.
A flash of skin bounded through the carts again, and that time Tobias sprinted to grab a hold of the fabric of the person's shirt, but when his fingers curled the person faded.
It's wasn't a simulation, it was worse than not even being real.
Everyone was gone even those who lived. The burial was today, centered somewhere in Amity although the factions had basically crumbled. It was decided the bloody war was ended with a burial in the faction of peace, kindness. Tobias thought it was utterly ironic.
He didn't even notice the tears pooling from his eyes. He hasn't cried for years, but lately there was nothing but tears. He dropped to the floor of the cart again Tris appearing- but not- lifeless in his arms. They weren't going to the burial; without knowing, they had already faded.
Everyone was gone; it wasn't as if it mattered. It did though, it did.
God, it did.
The young couple was lulled to sleep even as the train picked up its uneven pace skidding to a stop. Amity was passed twice, but the screech never woke them; they still slept.
And for some peculiar reason, they never woke up.
A/N: I've always thought about writing a one-shot. One shot's require a lot of thought to compact meaning in such a diminutive word count, and the emotional impact counts for a lot. People always think that after the war everybody will be resilient in their ways, but it's not true. War affects people emotionally, even fictional ones. Tell me what you think!
-TFW