Just a little intro here: This is a no-war short-story where Tris and Four knew each other before Tris chose Dauntless. It will follow as close to canon as I can make it while making certain changes. The chapters will be fairly short for this story and told alternating between Tris/Four's POV's. The original storyline (Divergent) belongs to Veronica Roth. I have borrowed one line from the book Divergent and it is bolded in this first chapter. I hope you all enjoy and if you do, please Read and Review!
Tris POV
I can't help but think back to the feeling of landing in the net, the excitement and the fear that I felt as my eyes searched the room desperately, looking for him. After all, it's what gave me the courage to jump first, to defy the characteristics of the faction I transferred from, to prove to everyone straight off the bat that I belonged in Dauntless.
But now, looking back it frustrates me too. The way I finally found his hands reaching out for me, the stony look on his face as he asked me my name, congratulated me coldly for being the first jumper after asking if I was pushed. It wasn't the Tobias I was familiar with, the one I waited for two years to be able to join, the one I was with just a few days before in the most intimate way possible.
"You feeling alright Tris?" Christina's words jar me from my memories and I glance around the dormitories with sleepy eyes. I must have fallen asleep, thinking of Tobias or Four as he now goes by, and now its morning, the rest of the initiates dressing groggily as their movements show the stiffness in their limbs.
"Uh… yeah," I mutter carefully. "I just didn't sleep great." I say without conviction as I swing my legs over the side of my bunk and stretch my shoulders out, trying to assess how sore I am today. I move to stand up, my legs slightly shaky as my stomach suddenly protests and then I find myself launching towards the shared washrooms, lunging at the closest toilet as everything I ate the previous day comes up, wave after wave until my stomach is empty and only bile burns my throat.
"Feeling any better?" I like that Christina for once doesn't offer me an 'I told you so', or ask what's wrong, instead just hanging out by my side, holding my hair back for me and waiting until it's over before she gives me the look, the one that says we need to talk.
"I'm fine." I insist stubbornly, pushing myself up and moving to the sinks, I need to rinse out my mouth, get rid of the taste.
"We've got to get going. Training starts in ten minutes." She reminds me and I nod at her. Now that my stomach is empty it has settled down some, even if I can't shake the feeling that something is off, not quite right with my body.
"You go ahead. I've just gotta change quickly and then I'll be right there." I tell her, pushing my way into the hallway and back into the dorms. I don't need her following me, demanding answers to the questions hidden in her eyes.
"I'll let Four know you're sick but on your way." She says and I stop in my tracks. She can't tell him. It's not that he would worry about me. He hasn't said more than a handful of words to me since my arrival here in Dauntless. He's obviously moved on, forgotten our pact. But I still don't want him to see me as weak, so I grab Christina's arm, stopping her and giving her a warning look before I demand that she keep it to herself. I'll be fine.
Once she finally agrees I find myself moving quicker, getting ready for training as fast as my sore muscles will allow in the now empty dorms, my thoughts filled with my own questions regarding the mysterious illness I seem to have picked up over the last few days. But it isn't the illness, the throwing up and the sudden aversion to almost any food that bothers me. It's how normal I feel in between the bouts of nausea and the lack of appetite.
And then it occurs to me. A sudden thought implanted at the forefront of my brain that makes me stop in my tracks just as I had begun the jog towards the training rooms that I know I'm already late getting to. And I know. This can't be right. I can't be… it's not possible; it is possible – more than that… it's probable.
"Nice of you to finally join us initiate." I try not to flinch at the cold and commanding voice that greets me once I've finally been able to move my feet towards my destination, arriving much later than I expected to the room where everyone is set up at stations, throwing knives at targets.
"I'm sorry. It won't happen again." Immediately I move to the empty target and pick up the knives sitting there, practicing the motion a couple of times before releasing it into the air, relishing in the fact that it sticks directly where I wanted it to, the centre of the target.
We practice at the targets for hours, my arms aching at the repetitive motion used to fling the silver projectiles until finally I hear a disruption at the other end of room, and when I look over I see Eric, arguing with Al of all people.
"Stand in front of the target, you flinch and you're out." Eric's voice sends chills down my spine and I can't help but move closer to them, the way the entire room has done as Al puts his head down and moves towards the target, defeated. And I can't help myself. I call out loudly 'stop' as I push my way through the other initiates until I'm standing in front of Eric and Four, both of them glaring at me angrily.
"Any idiot can stand in front of a target. It doesn't prove anything except that you're bullying him. Which, as I recall, is a sign of cowardice." I say confidently, not entirely sure where the boost has come from, but knowing that it's right. Eric is nothing but a bully and it doesn't inspire the confidence or the bravery that we thought we were training for. No, it only inspires fear and troops of followers who are either too stupid or too afraid to stand up for the weak, the ones we are supposed to defend as members of Dauntless.
"Then it shouldn't be hard for you to take his place." Eric sneers at me and I just stare back for a moment before I turn and head towards the target myself, shooing Al back towards the crowd of initiates. "Same rules apply." Eric demands and before I know it I'm face to face with Four, his face too familiar as he concentrates, holding the knife in his right hand while words tumble from his mouth. He's taunting me, telling me that I'm weak, that if I don't make it someone else will take my place.
But as the knife whirls through the air, aimed directly at the board and to the side of my cheek I simply breathe. I won't let him do this to me. We may have been something once, but it's obvious that we're nothing now. But he doesn't let it go, his glare still piercing my eyes as he holds another knife in his hand, reminding me that I'm still a stiff to him. That I'm nothing. But still I hold motionless as the knife hurtles towards me, landing next to my head and then there's another knife and I watch as his focus shifts just slightly to my right, as though he's looking at my ear and I feel it, the stinging as the knife knicks the cartilage there, the blood trickling down my neck quickly.
I don't know what I feel as I stand there. Eric dismissing us, hissing warnings in my ear about watching me, but I know I can't believe that he would actually hit me with the knife, some sort of sick lesson to teach me. I stand there stunned for what feels like hours, watching as the rest of the room clears out quickly, no doubt heading for lunch. As Tobias – Four – lingers behind, picking up the knives one by one and throwing them into a bucket.
"Are you alright?" I barely register the words as he finally approaches me and for just an instant I can see the old Tobias flash in his eyes, the one I knew when we lived just down the street from each other in Abnegation. Before he became the hardened 'Four' he is now.
"No." I squeak out honestly, about to break down in front of him - right here, right now. "You did that on purpose." I whisper harshly, choked up with emotion as I feel the nausea from this morning returning, reminding me.
"I had no choice." It's his only reply as his hand winds its way up to my neck, to my ear that is still bleeding. "You didn't think Eric was going to let you off without a scratch, did you?"
I don't think about the answer. I know he's right, but I still feel so vulnerable, so betrayed by the boy that I love.
"I… I need to talk to you." I don't know where the sudden bravado comes from, but I know that I need to tell him, the churning nausea forcing the thought into my mind as I try to understand what I can do. I can't stop training, can't flunk initiation or I will become factionless. But I also don't want to risk it, risk hurting it.
"Bea… Tris." He sighs as he says my name and I watch as his eyes dart to the corners of the room where I know the cameras are watching us. "We need to be careful. We need to be like this." He turns and walks away after he speaks the cryptic words and I want to scream at him, to make him see. And suddenly I don't care that there are cameras, that there could be someone watching and listening. This is important. Too important. So I begin to move. I jog to his side before he can leave the room, causing him to slow down as I look into his face.
"I'm pregnant." I almost don't believe the whispered words myself and I know that I've completely taken the wind from his sails but I don't stop to discuss it, don't stop to watch the emotions that I know are flashing across his face. Instead I just keep running.