A/N: One of my readers, Anonymous Girl Gamer, actually gave me this idea for a one-shot! I hadn't really thought about it, but when I read her review I knew I just had to write it out. So thank you very much! And thank you to everyone who reads or reviews my stories, it means a lot to me. I hope you enjoy!
Death was always one fear of mine.
So when the Dauntless stand in a circle around me, I sit as calmly as I can. My body is aching from chasing Divergents, and following orders, that I don't even remember the last time I had any decent sleep.
It's funny—they think the Divergents will win this time. I smile.
"Would you like me to tell you your crimes?" Tori asks, "Or would you like to list them yourself?" I'd rather save my breath—I don't have many left. I can feel my hands start to shake, so I clasp them together and hold them in front of me.
I look up, and scan over all of the faces staring at me, until my eyes land on Tris. I remember the night at Erudite, how she escaped. She stabbed me, with a pocket knife, of all weapons. I can still feel where the knife went in, just below my right ribcage.
"I'd like her to list them. Since she's the one who stabbed me, clearly she is familiar with them."
"Leave her out of this," Four hisses.
"Why? Because you're doing her?" I smirk. There was a time they actually fooled me into believing she was a stupid girl, just trying to flirt her way to the top. I would congratulate them on their performance if the roles were reversed right now. If I were the one soon to be holding the gun with two bullets. One for each of them—to put an end to this uprising. "Oh wait, I forgot. Stiffs don't do that sort of thing. They just tie each other's shoes and cut each other's hair." Pathetic freaks.
If I were looking down at them both, moments before their deaths, I know exactly how it would play out. I would kill her first—not just for her mouth, or her self-righteous actions... but so I could see the anger and the pain in Four's eyes. So he would yell at me, and threaten to kill me, despite his position in that moment. I would kill her first so that I could hurt him worse than his father ever did. And then I would kill him. I would press that barrel right up to his forehead, and I would remind him he was never Dauntless. That he was better off factionless, or dead. And I'd pull the trigger, so that I would know this time, I won.
But I am not winning. I will be dead as soon as my crimes are said aloud.
Four glares, unwavering. I don't care about them, however. I just know exactly which buttons to push and which lines to cross, because Four has always held himself a little too highly for someone leaving his place of origin as a coward.
"I want her to list them," I say again.
"You conspired with Erudite," Tris speaks up, stepping out into the circle. Four looks deadly calm, but when his eyes cut to me I see only hate. Good—I hate you too, asshole. "You are responsible for the deaths of hundreds of Abnegation," her voice gets higher, more angry, and soon enough she's practically spitting them at me, "You betrayed Dauntless. You shot a child in the head. You are a ridiculous plaything of Jeanine Matthews."
"Do I deserve to die?" I ask.
"Yes," she seethes. She is too emotional—especially for war. People die in wars, and that's why Divergents are dangerous. They create wars, and they cause death. And this is what Jeanine was trying to avoid.
"Fair enough," but now I know my fate is sealed. "But do you have the right to decide that, Beatrice Prior? Like you decided the fate of that other boy—what was his name? Will?" I watch her anger falter briefly, and then her expression becomes haunted.
"You have committed every crime that warrants execution among the Dauntless," Four says, "We have the right to execute you, under the laws of the Dauntless." I don't think you have that right, Eaton. You never were one of us, even when you needed us most. He crouches by one of the three guns on the floor in front of me. He empties the first two, the only sound in the room are the bullets hitting the floor, before the loads one chamber in the final gun.
Maybe he wants to kill me. Maybe I'll let him.
He hands one gun to Tori, and another to the man on his right. I'm surprised he didn't hand one to Tris—I know she knows what to do with it. She's had a lot of practice now.
"Wait," I say, just as they lift the guns, "I have a request."
"We don't take requests from criminals," says Tori. I know this execution is an inconvenience for her by the way she stands and speaks. She looks bored, and she sounds tired.
"I am a leader of Dauntless," or I was, after today. "And all I want is for Four to be the one who fires that bullet."
"Why?" He asks. So you can prove to me one last time you're a monster, just like dear old dad.
"So you can live with the guilt," I reply, "Of knowing that you usurped me and shot me in the head." I want to break you, one last time.
"There won't be any guilt," Four promises.
"Then you'll have no problem doing it," I tell him, smiling. Four picks up one of the bullets. I knew it wouldn't be his gun in the beginning—but now I know it will be.
"Tell me... because I've always wondered. Is it your daddy who shows up in every fear landscape you've ever gone through?" I ask quietly. I'm not an idiot—I know how he obsessed over his fear landscape. How he tried to get rid of his fears all the time. But he is the biggest coward I know—you can't live without fear, it is impossible.
Four doesn't look at me then. He just loads the chamber.
"You didn't like that question?" I ask innocently, "What, afraid the Dauntless are going to change their minds about you?" That's exactly what you're afraid of. "Realize that even though you've only got four fears, you're still a coward?"
I sit up. I want him to kill me out of anger. He lifts the gun up then, and he is aiming between my eyes.
"Eric," Four starts, "be brave."
He squeezes the trigger.