This "story" will mainly be made up of random AU Divergent One-Shots I feel like doing. This is the first one. Let me know what you think, and thanks for reading! (And if you have the time, you should all check out Universe-is-a-Mystery and her AMAZING 3 Divergent fanfic entitled Why Not?) - Loopy (^-^)

Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to any of the Divergent characters or the Divergent storylines. I just borrowed some names and traits.

Broken. Wasted. Hated. Shattered. Tris sat in the back of the room, avoiding attention as those worlds swirled around her dark figure. Her eyes, a mysterious shade of blue, clouded with dreams and framed by a thick layer of eyeliner, stared down at her desk. Its surface was now covered in phrases of disgust left by her peers. She was used to it by now, the other girls in class, and she relieved herself of some of the pain through newly discovered ways.

Her fingers delicately traced the lines slashed up her arms, hidden by her black hoodie to everyone but her, as she was sure no one else paid her any attention.

Tobias sat on the edge of the class, near the girl, Beatrice Prior, who seemed to always be alone. He watched her often, each time struck by a new level of awe at her unspoken beauty. Her blonde hair, threaded with golden shades, draped delicately over her shoulders and around her narrow face. Her eyes, which Tobias had seen up close everyday so long ago, were shrouded by something dark. Yet they held every ounce of wonder on earth. He couldn't understand why she felt the need to cover herself, to hide in the back. She had always been breathtakingly gorgeous, even after all of her suffering.

The two of them had been in all of the same classes since they were kids. They had been best friends. She used to talk so passionately, speaking with a fire that radiated for miles away. Opinions and ideas left her powerful mouth, painting pictures in listeners' minds and echoing off their imagination. Inspiring people. Inspiring him.

Near the end of middle school, Tobias had heard about the death of Tris's cancer-ridden father, how it had destroyed her spirit, distinguished her sparking fire. And that's when the other girls started to pick on her, when she was at her weakest. It broke her. She started to sit in the back and shut herself out, succumbing to the bullies' words, believing no one would help her, no one would notice.

But Tobias noticed. He noticed so intensely that he could feel her pain, feel the agony of her heart shredding to pieces. He hated seeing such a beautiful spirit reduced to such a shadow. And he hated that he couldn't help her.

The bell rang, signifying the end of class and the beginning of lunch. Tris was the first one out the door, slinging her bag over her shoulder and dodging other classmates. Tobias watched her retreating form, dying a little inside, still planted in his chair.

He was pulled out of his reverie by a high pitch laugh. His head turned. Brooke Killian, a popular and the biggest source of suffering for Tris, laughed with her fake-blonde friends as they neared the hallway. Tobias stood, stepping out of class and heading to his locker.

He wasn't an unpopular person, but he wasn't the star quarterback either. He was just another student. Not very noticeable with his deep blue eyes and hooked nose. Not gorgeous, but by no means ugly.

Tris clutched her bag in her fist, spinning the dial as fast as she could.

"Tris," called a high voice behind her. She briefly closed her eyes before dropping her arm and slowing turning around. Brooke stood before her, her blonde hair jaggedly stopping at her shoulders, her face more pink than natural, and she was flanked by two others.

And then the insults came. One after another, each one followed by a fit of laughter. Tris stood her ground, waiting for them to go to lunch, which shouldn't have been a long wait. It felt like an eternity.

A loud crash reverberated through the hall as Tris slammed her back on the lockers and slid to the floor.

Tobias walked to lunch alone, having told his friends to leave him while he dealt with his stuck locker. He whistled quietly to himself until he rounded the corner and was interrupted by soft whimpering.

He stopped. There was a girl sitting on the floor against the lockers, knees to her chest and head in her hands, her body wracking with quiet tears. A dark hoodie shrouded her curled body. Tris.

Coming closer, Tobias knelt beside her, pulling her hands away from her black-streaked cheeks. She flinched away, her head shooting up to look at him. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion when she saw her old childhood friend beside her, the same boy who hadn't spoken a word to her since sixth grade.

"What do you want?" she choked, her throat still foggy from her sobs.

In that moment, an agonizing blast of guilt spread through Tobias's being. For not helping her in a time of need. For not standing up for her. For staying silent as the girl he loved suffered.

He released her wrists and sat down beside her, tears of his own threatening to spill. Why did he do that to her? How could I have been so selfish? "I'm so sorry, Tris. For leaving you. It was wrong and stupid and awful and painful, and I hated it, too. But I couldn't have helped you."

Tris's full attention was on him now, processing his admission. His eyes locked with hers, reading her unspoken question.

"You needed to help yourself first. To cope with your father's death. But I wasn't there after you finished that step, wasn't there to lead you to the next one. No one was. And now you're here. We're here."

On its way back to the ground, Tobias's gaze locked on Tris's wrist, where he had just held her. There was something on it. Quickly but gently, he retrieved her sleeve and slid it up her arm.

Tris tried her best to cover her skin again in time, but Tobias had already seen the scars, seen the marks that his selfishness had led to. He nodded to himself before standing, offering his hands to Tris. Reluctantly she accepted and stood up, coming eye-level with his chest.

Tobias pressed Tris against him, wrapping his arms warmly around her small body. It took a moment for her to respond, but she hadn't felt a kind embrace in such a long time that she gladly slipped her arms around him, too, twisting her fingers into the back of his shirt, crying into his warmth until the tears were gone.

"Thank you," she mumbled against him. It was the first time anyone had heard her voice in a long time. "Thank you."

And Tobias smiled, for Tris was not completely broken; she was willing to let herself heal. To let him help her. "Do you want to go to lunch?" he asked.

Immediately Tris tensed in his arms, picturing the cafeteria full of tormentors and turmoil. Her, sitting at her table. Alone. Again. On the receiving end of unkind glares and gestures and rumors.

But Tobias stepped away from her and slung his arm across her shoulders, ushering her to lunch.

The room fell silent upon their arrival, everyone turning to them, confused that the outcast was with someone else. Tobias ignored the unsteady quiet and led them both to Tris's otherwise empty table.

Tris was amazed, a slight blush creeping up to her face. He didn't abandon her like everyone else. He apologized for leaving, and he meant it. She smiled tightly - the first hint of happiness in years - and scooted closer to Tobias, molding perfectly into the crook of his arm, as she accepted the sandwich he offered her.

The silence in the room was fading, students going back to their own topics of conversation. Lunch passed by, Tris finally happy and hopeful, Tobias hyperaware of Tris's warmth mixing with his own, both of them silently vowing to never leave each other again as Tris reached up and pressed her lips to Tobias's soft cheek, whispering to him words that would never be enough to express how she felt.

"Thank you."