A/N: For this fic, I decided to re-write the Divergent story from Peter's point of view. He's such an interesting character, and he's like the Wicked Witch of the West - no one really knows why he does what he does. This is my Wicked of Divergent.
As always, please review with ideas. I am open to constructive criticism, but I have three main rules if you're going to critique:
Make it necessary.
Make it true.
Make it kind.
As long as you follow those three rules in your review, I'm happy! I'll read every single one I receive. Hopefully I'll be able to respond to them!
Please go easy on me, as this is only my second fic. Thanks so much for your support, everyone!
Disclaimer: I don't own Divergent. If I did, there would be a lot less killing of certain people (*cough cough*)
"No!" I shout, throwing myself across the room in a panic. "Not her! Please! Take me instead!"
The masked killer just laughs, but it's a bitter laugh, one without humor. "Try again next time, Peter."
He holds his gun up to her head as she thrashes about, looking at me with wild eyes. "Peter! Please, help!"
"I'm trying, Sophie, I swear!" I scream as I try to break free of the ropes that tie my hands and feet to this chair. I look down at my feet for half a second before I hear it. The gun shot. I look up just in time to see her limp body fall into a pool of her own blood. "NOOOO!"
She looks at me, eyes full of pain, and says three final words to me: "You did this."
I wake up panting and in a pool of sweat. Gulping another breath of air, I try to calm myself down. She's dead, Peter, I think harshly. She's dead and dreaming of her dying won't bring her back.
As I clamber out of bed, I try not to focus on my little sister anymore and think about my choices today. It's the Choosing Ceremony, and I have to choose between Candor - where my family is - and Dauntless - where I truly belong. Am I honest … or brave?
I shake my head as I undress and begin to dress myself in the usual clothing for Candor: black pants, white shirt, black tie. I toss my head by and forth to "comb" my hair and sigh in the mirror. As always, that's as good as it's gonna get.
I tread lightly down the stairs and peek at the clock, which reads 9:41. Shoot. The Ceremony begins at 10:00AM sharp. I snag a chocolate chip muffin and a bottle of juice from the fridge and slide into my shoes, running out the door. I twist off the cap and glug down the juice as I run to the Ceremony location. I toss the bottle into a nearby trash bin, tear the wrapper off of the muffin, stuff that wrapper in the trash as well, and polish off my breakfast in three bites.
I slide into the Ceremony with two minutes to spare as I scan the crowd for my family. After a minute, I spot my mother and father sitting side by in the back row. I clamber up the steps and sit next to my mother, who grasps my hand and whispers softly, "Don't leave us, Peter."
My blood runs cold. Does she know what I'm thinking of doing? That I could leave her? I don't know what to say in response, so I just kiss her on the cheek and whisper, "I love you, Mom. Remember that, no matter what happens." She nods and smiles, but it's a tight, forced smile. She's worried. And to be honest, I am too.
Marcus begins the opening speech as he clears his throat. "Our dependents are now sixteen. They stand on the precipice of adulthood, and it is now up to them to decide what kind of people they will be." Marcus's voice is solemn and gives equal weight to each word. "Decades ago our ancestors realized that it is not political ideology, religious belief, race, or nationalism that is to blame for a warring world. Rather, they determined that it was the fault of human personality—of humankind's inclination toward evil, in whatever form that is. They divided into factions that sought to eradicate those qualities they believed responsible for the world's disarray. Those who blamed aggression formed Amity. Those who blamed ignorance became the Erudite. Those who blamed duplicity created Candor. Those who blamed selfishness made Abnegation. And those who blamed cowardice were the Dauntless. Working together, these five factions have lived in peace for many years, each contributing to a different sector of society. Abnegation has fulfilled our need for selfless leaders in government; Candor has provided us with trustworthy and sound leaders in law; Erudite has supplied us with intelligent teachers and researchers; Amity has given us understanding counselors and caretakers; and Dauntless provides us with protection from threats both within and without. But the reach of each faction is not limited to these areas. we find meaning, we find purpose, we find life. Apart from them, we would not survive. Therefore this day marks a happy occasion—the day on which we receive our new initiates, who will work with us toward a better society and a better world." A round of applause greets his words.
I'm barely paying attention to the rest of the Choosing Ceremony until I hear my name being called. "Peter, Candor." My father gives me a grin and my mother squeezes my arm. I try to appear confident as I stroll to the front of the room and clamber onto the stage. I've made my decision. Lying is too easy for me.
I take the knife from Marcus and he smiles encouragingly at me. I angle the knife and dig it into my left hand, trying not to wince. If I'm going to join Dauntless, I cannot appear weak. You're a coward, I think, as I watch the blood drip from my hands a coward. I slide my eyes out of focus and the blurry blood slides onto the coals. The hiss echoes in my ears as I begin to walk offstage.
This is when I begin to act. Act strong, so I won't be presumed upon. I throw a smirk towards my mother, and I see her face crumple in disappointment. But then I hear the Dauntless laugh and whoop, and I forget all about her. I give a devious grin to that sector of the crowd, and saunter over, taking a seat.
The rest of the Choosing Ceremony goes by fairly quickly, and I make sure to watch for ones who transfer to Dauntless - they are now competition in my training. I cannot let anybody make a fool out of me. There are four other initiates I know - Edward, an Erudite, Christina, a Candor, Molly, a Candor, and Drew, a Candor. We have a big mix of factions this year - even a Stiff.
After the Ceremony is over, the Dauntless begin to thunder up the stairs, I thought it was only the Stiffs who climbed the stairs.
As soon as we get to the ground again, I understand. They don't do it to be selfless, they do it because it's fun. We get to the tracks and I see Dauntless members climbing up the rails. Oh, jeez! I gesture to Molly and Drew to follow, glaring at Molly, who looks frightened. Once we get to the top, I hear a train coming, and I watch as members of the bravest faction run side by side with the train, grab the rail, and jump in. I follow their lead, Molly and Drew close behind.
Once we're on the train comfortably, I take note of who's around me. The Candor jerk is friends with the Stiff, but I look to be the only true competition here - except for maybe Edward.
I lounge against the side of the train easily, trying to intimidate the other initiates. The ride takes at least thirty minutes, but after a while, we're finally there.
The Dauntless headquarters.
"They're jumping off!" Christina barks at us, always the bossy one.
"We have to jump off too, then," Molly says, looking at me.
"Great. Because that makes perfect sense, Molly. Leap off a train onto a roof."
She rolls her eyes, annoyed. "This is kind of what we signed up for, Peter," she points out.
"Well, I'm not doing it," says the only Amity transfer - a boy wearing a dark red shirt and yellow pants.
"You've got to," Christina says, "or you fail. Come on, it'll be alright."
"No, it won't! I'd rather be factionless than dead!" The Amity boy shakes his head. He keeps staring at the rooftop, which is getting closer by the second. I don't agree with him. I would rather be dead than empty, like the factionless. "You can't force him," the Stiff says, glancing at Christina. I snort loudly. Maybe she can't, but the stronger of us certainly can find a way to make him. Unfortunately, I don't feel like saving anybody.
Molly and I stand at the edge of the car, and she grasps my hand firmly. I look to her, confused, and she just whispers, "Please." I nod. As the train passes the roof, the Stiff counts, "One . . . two . . . three!"
I wait a second after she says three to jump, just to show her that I don't listen to anyone but myself. Molly and I fly through the air. I manage to land on my feet and smile proudly for a second before I realize Molly is on the ground, clutching her ankle. I offer my hand and pull her up as she grimaces.
The Stiff pulls her sleeve up to examine her arm, hand shaking.
"Ooh. Scandalous! A Stiff's flashing some skin!" I point at her, smirking. I hear laughter. Her cheeks turn red, and she lets her sleeve fall.
"Listen up!" I hear a gruff voice shout from the other end of the roof, standing on the ledge. "My name is Max! I am one of the leaders of your new faction! Several stories below us is the members' entrance to our compound. If you can't muster the will to jump off, you don't belong here. Our initiates have the privilege of going first."
"You want us to jump off a ledge ?" asks an Erudite girl. Her mouth hangs open.
"Yes," Max says. He looks like he is trying to hold back a laugh.
"Is there water at the bottom or something?" she asks, trying to peer over the edge.
"Who knows?" He raises his eyebrows and shrugs. I pick at my cuticles, trying to appear nonchalant. I am terrified, but I can't show it.
The Stiff clears her throat and walks to the front. I snicker, and Molly laughs. Like she's really going to jump! But she climbs onto the edge of the roof. My mouth falls open in surprise, but then she turns around. Ha. I knew it.
Before I even have time to process another thought, she has taken off her outer sweater, curled it into a ball, and thrown it at me. I look to Molly in surprise and she just shrugs. Turning back to the roof, I watch as the Stiff hurls herself off.
The rest of the initiates try to peer over the edge, straining for some sign of her. But there is none.
Shoot.
The Stiff is showing me up. The Stiff, of all people. Seriously? I have to prove I'm better than she is. I can't be shown up by a small, frail, girl from Abnegation. Before I can think twice about my actions, I walk to the edge confidently and jump. Just like that. I hear Molly scream, and for a second I feel bad. But the feeling, it's amazing. It's like I'm flying.
I finally land after about ten seconds of falling, and something cradles me. A net. There's a net at the bottom. I almost laugh out loud in relief.
A tall, buff man offers me his hand, but I shake my head and push myself off the net. I don't need his help.
"What's your name?" he asks me.
"Peter," I respond smoothly. I look around for the Stiff.
"Tris is over there," says a woman standing to my right, pointing down a hallway. "You can stand here, or wait with her." I'm confused for a minute - I thought her name was Beatrice - but I shrug, and decide to wait by the net,
"What's your name?" I ask gruffly. The woman raises an eyebrow.
"Lauren," she says, eying me. "This is Four." I almost say something about his name, but he glares at me, daring me to ask.
I keep my mouth shut as I watch a tumble of black and white fall down into the net. I almost cheer for Molly, but thank goodness I don't - it was Christina.
Once all of the initiates are on the ground again, Four and Lauren lead us through the hallway, where a couple of the initiates are already waiting.
"Most of the time I work in the control room, but for the next few weeks, I am your instructor," Four says. "My name is Four."
Christina asks, "Four? Like the number?"
"Yes," Four says. "Is there a problem?"
"No.
"Good. We're about to go into the Pit, which you will someday learn to love. It -"
"The Pit? Clever name," Christina snickers. Four turns around, glares at her, and walks so close to Christina that it almost looks like he wants to kiss her. But he doesn't.
"What's your name?" he asks quietly.
"Christina," she squeaks. I snort. This is why I didn't say anything about Four's name.
"Well, Christina, if I wanted to put up with Candor smart-mouths, I would have joined their faction," he hisses. "The first lesson you will learn from me is to keep your mouth shut. Got that?" She nods.
Four walks back to his position and continues talking, leading us through the Pit. "If you follow me, I'll show you the chasm."
He turns around to walk us towards the chasm, whatever that is. Suddenly I hear a rush of water, crashing against rocks. I peer over a thin railing and see white water pounding against huge, gigantic boulders. "The chasm reminds us that there is a fine line between bravery and idiocy!" Four shouts. "A daredevil jump off this ledge will end your life. It has happened before and it will happen again. You've been warned.
"This is incredible," Christina breathes, as we all move away from the railing.
"Incredible is the word," Tris says, nodding.
Four leads us into the cafeteria, where there are dozens of tables. On each one, fifty hamburgers sit on platters, ketchup and mustard on each side.
I grab Molly and Drew and pick a table. I see Edward looking around, seeming lost, and have an idea. If I can befriend him, then I don't need to worry about competing against him. I walk over to him in three long strides and grab his arm. "Hey. Come sit with us."
He nods, and follows me to the table I had picked. Molly's eyes scan him, up and down, and then look to me, full of questions. I shake my head softly and mouth, "Later." She nods.
After dinner, Four yells out across the tables for us to follow Eric - who he says is one of the leaders, and points him out to us - to the beds, where we will sleep. Then he disappears.
Hmm. I'll have to follow that guy. Something about him just seems … off.
For now, though, I sling my arm around Molly and lead her towards Eric, who brings us down a series of hallways. After a few minutes, he stops in front of a wooden door.
"For those of you who don't know, my name is Eric," he says. "I am one of five leaders of the Dauntless. We take the initiation process very seriously here, so I volunteered to oversee most of your training." Huh. That's weird. Why would a Dauntless leader oversee a batch of initiates? "Some ground rules," he says. "You have to be in the training room by eight o'clock every day. Training takes place every day from eight to six, with a break for lunch. You are free to do whatever you like after six. You will also get some time off between each stage of initiation." He glances around at all of us, as if taking us in for the first time. "You are only permitted to leave the compound when accompanied by a Dauntless," Eric adds. "Behind this door is the room where you will be sleeping for the next few weeks. You will notice that there are ten beds and only nine of you. We anticipated that a higher proportion of you would make it this far."
"But we started with twelve," protests Christina.
I glare at her, as does Tris. She needs to learn when to stay quiet. Being a Candor is no excuse - I was one, too, but do you see me shouting at Dauntless leaders?
"There is always at least one transfer who doesn't make it to the compound," says Eric, picking at his cuticles. He shrugs, and I hold back a shiver from his casualty."Anyway, in the first stage of initiation, we keep transfers and Dauntless-born initiates separate, but that doesn't mean you are evaluated separately. At the end of initiation, your rankings will be determined in comparison with the Dauntless-born initiates. And they are better than you are already. So I expect—"
"Rankings?" asks the Erudite girl to my right. "Why are we ranked?"
Eric smiles, and in the light, his smile looks wicked, like it was cut into his face with a knife. "Your ranking serves two purposes," he says. "The first is that it determines the order in which you will select a job after initiation. There are only a few desirable positions available." My stomach tightens. I have to be first, I think desperately. I have to.
"The second purpose," he says, "is that only the top ten initiates are made members." Pain stabs my stomach. We all stand still as statues.
And then Christina says, "What?" I stare at her incredulously as Molly grips my hand. My arms tighten around her, holding her, protecting her. It's the way I was with Sophie - that's how she makes me feel. But I can't think of my dead little sister now, not here, not in front of the Dauntless leader. Molly looks up to me and gives even a small smile.
"There are eleven Dauntless-borns, and nine of you," Eric continues. "Four initiates will be cut at the end of stage one. The remainder will be cut after the final test." That means that even if we make it through each stage of initiation, six initiates will not be members.
"What do we do if we're cut?" I ask. I'm asking for Molly, not me. I know she's wondering, too. I can read her almost perfectly.
"You leave the Dauntless compound," says Eric indifferently, "and live factionless." The Erudite girl clamps her hand over her mouth and stifles a sob. But instead of crying , I feel colder. Harder. I will be a member. I will.
"But that's . . . not fair!" Molly says. Even though she sounds angry, she looks terrified. "If we had known - " I squeeze her shoulder, signaling her to stop talking now.
"Are you saying that if you had known this before the Choosing Ceremony, you wouldn't have chosen Dauntless?Because if that's the case, you should get out now. If you are really one of us, it won't matter to you that you might fail. And if it does, you are a coward."
Eric pushes the door to the dormitory open. "You chose us," he says. "Now we have to choose you." And he leaves us with that to think about. Molly turns to me, eyes wide. I give a small cough. I will protect my Molly. I will. I can't survive without her, and I won't fail her like I did with Sophie.
I don't even care if I don't make it, as long as she does.