Hey all. This is my first attempt at a Divergent fic. I'm so used to writing from Katniss's-she's from the Hunger Games-point of view that Tris might be a tad bit OOC. I think, honestly, that the ending to Allegiant was super crappy. So if you agree with me, let me know in your review. Who's seen the movie? Thoughts? What am I doing? you're probably not even reading this author's note. Well, I'll get on with it.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Divergent Trilogy.

I search through the crowd of people entering the big white room. If I was just a few inches taller, I would be able to see my mother's hair. I had lost her hand as we had walked through the white doors into the afterlife. My wounds were still gaping open, blood streaming down my back thick and dark and warm. Surprisingly, my hands felt clammy and cold. The room was full of people and more rushing in as I moved. Mom briefly explained that this was the first room into the next life where everyone would soon be free to wander the clouds. Everyone was examined for some sort of mental defect obvious from a few tests and then cleaned up before permitted into the real world of life after death.

"Tris?"

I spin around towards the sound. There are too many moving parts surrounding me and already, I'm dizzy from a few minutes ago when I was shot in the neck. I can't locate who said my name. I just know the voice wasn't my mother's.

"Tris!? Is that you Tris?"

Someone grabs my wrist. I don't jump away like I normally would, because the face I see is one that I've grown to love. "Uriah!" I jump towards him, and despite the numbness I feel through my spine, I feel warm with him here. "Uriah." I gasp and hug him fiercely. A friendly face, someone I know. "Uriah, I'm so sorry. This was never supposed to happen to you." I dig my face into his neck apologetically.

He shakes his head, slightly chuckling. His arms come around my lower back and clasp together. His chin rests on my head. "Tris." He sighs like he feels at peace. "Tris it's okay." And he repeats the sentence multiple times to console me… but no matter how many times he does, I'm never going to stop feeling guilty over Uriah's death.

"It's not. It's not." I disagree, frantically shaking my head. "I'm so sorry. Tobias didn't mean to." He doesn't reply right away. We stay in the embrace quietly, while other people buzz around us.

"What are you doing here?" He whispers. "How did it happen?" His fingers trail over the blood on the back of my shirt. He means how I died. I shake my head, and he understands. I wonder why he is here too though. Last time I heard, he was still on life support. I guess they unplugged him. My throat constricts. Suddenly I feel very heavy.

Christina.

Uriah and I were the last of her close circle of friends. The grief she must be going through, poor Christina. I think miserably. How was she going to move on? Well, I knew she would. I knew she would be strong, for everyone else. For Cara, for Peter, for Zeke and Hana, for Mathew, for Tobias.

Tobias—without Tobias I was going to go dull. Like a knife in overuse without the proper care. I'd blink out, my light burning out faster because its energy wasn't conserved properly. We never even said goodbye. I was so sure I was safe, but I sacrificed myself for Caleb in exchange for the overall good of everyone. I got myself killed. I wasn't ready to die. I'm not ready to be dead. It's not even comprehendible. It's not an option. I'm dead, but I won't be dead. I'm going to live.

But I am dead, bleeding out up here—wherever that may be—and separated from the Compound, from Chicago, from my home, from my brother, my boyfriend, my body. The thought is enough to make me faint. "Where do we go from here?" I ask shakily to Uriah, who shrugs sadly, as if he knows exactly what I'm thinking about.

But I guess I know the general vicinity of what he is processing. We are both so young. Merely living, and already our lives have been thrown away, just because of some stupid experiment and the people who would fight anything and everything to support it and those who disagreed and would kill anything that got in their path to destroy it. We had lives and secrets and passions to carry out. And cutting everything off in the middle? Horrible. The sadness is so sad.

I feel so heavy, guilty, grief-stricken, lonely.

But I have my family up here. Uriah does not. I squeeze him tighter. "Let's get in line for inspection." I feel like Uriah is forcing himself to be stronger for my sake. But I don't want him to have to do that.

"It's okay to be upset you know." I tell him gently, releasing from the embrace. He keeps me close though, intertwining our arms at the elbows.

"I know." His eyes well up and his chin trembles. "It's just too much to think about. It's too unfair." I look up at him with sympathy. His eyes are dark and bloodshot with tears. Underlying everything though, I can feel his anger starting to build… like an inferno… it won't stop growing. I can't imagine how he must have felt hooked up to that machine for days, not knowing who the culprit for his state was.

At least for me it was an easy, quick death, with a predictable murderer: David. It wasn't fair that he would forget that he shot me in cold blood. That since he was a government official his crime would be pardoned. Fuck him. I think bitterly.

Slowly we make our way to the front of the line. Uriah passes easily and he sends me an uneasy glance as they take him to the far doors on the other side of the room. "Look for me in whatever waits ahead. I'll be there." He instructs. I nod silently, his presence disappearing from my body.

I get transported to a cot on the left side of the room. There a girl dressed in blue weeps but sterilizes a needle for sewing up the holes in my back. "What's wrong?" I ask the girl, looking at her halo of curls. She looks down at me and her brilliant blue eyes penetrate to the deepest parts of my soul.

"I'm dead." Her voice is flat. "And they still expect me to work."

I don't have time for sympathy so I question what sparks my interest. "Who is 'they'?"

"The group in charge of death. The group in charge of body travel and everything that has to do with afterlife." Her nose crinkles distastefully. "They are terrible and oppressing and the majority of us end up hating them." She pauses and looks over her shoulder and past my head. Then she focuses in on me again and I get the full effect of her snarl. "But there is no escaping. So I suggest you follow the rules up here." She leans back and yanks the thread. I didn't even know she was stitching me up. That was suspicious.

"Thank you for the tip." It comes out like a question but I get up and walk away without further word. I feel a dainty hand on my shoulder.

"What's your name?" she asks me.

I look at her and purse my lips. My brain cranks. Should I start fresh again? Or should I keep my identity—because, it's one to be proud of? I keep it. Tobias would want me to. "Tris Prior."

She shakes my hand firmly and smiles. "I'm Regine."

"I'll see you around." I say and take off. I hear her say another goodbye but it is cut off by someone shoving another patient in her face. Her scowl is back. I navigate my way through the sea of people towards the tall white and gold doors that Uriah was pulled through.

Though many other people are traveling through as well; I still feel alone as I walk past them and into the next room. I'm greeted by a replica of the Compound. It looks just like the airport, but all the gates are leading out to different streets. Where the lab tables would be kiosks of different sorts stand. They sell small trinkets. I walk over to one of the closer ones. "You should buy this. It's an easy window to your loved one." One of the venders calls out to me.

"What does that mean?" I inquire, picking up one of the objects he is referring to.

"There is only one place to see down onto Earth here in Chicago afterlife, but this lets you see whoever you want whenever and wherever."

I frown at the man. He is healthy looking—everyone here is, no matter what reason they have died—but his eyes have lost their color. He looks bored. So I'm a bit skeptical of what he is trying to sell me. "Yeah, well that's interesting." I compliment. He gains interest at this. "So, what's the catch?"

His face brightens and he looks like I have just said something ingenious. "You can only use it once."

It isn't worth whatever sort of payment I had here. I start to leave.

"Miss!" He reaches for me. Why was everybody up here so touchy? I didn't focus on the man. Where was Uriah? "Miss, please, trust me. It's worth it." I begin to object but he shushes me. "It's worth it, but since you won't buy it, I'll just have to give it to you."

"I'm fine. Thank you though." I restart looking for Uriah. How far away could he have gotten in the ten minutes I was getting patched up? The man frowns at me, sincerely disappointed. I feel bad… but not bad enough. I walk away with one backwards glance. He looks smug and I don't know if I should be worried. I shrug it off and strain my neck for my friend.

While searching for his brown skin and thick haired head I notice subtly that everyone is either wearing faction attire or Compound clothing. Is that why this airport is called Chicago afterlife? "There you are Tris." Relief.

"Mom." I hug her tightly.

"Baby, I love you so much." She squeezes me nurturing and I shut my eyes and bask in her embrace. "Baby, I'm so sorry."

"I am too." There is so much I need to say to her. There are too many things I need to confess. Where is dad? Does she know about Caleb? Does she know about Will? Jeanine? But there is one thing I need to tell her right now, because just thinking about Jeanine and her evil scheme—which wasn't really hers, it was David's—reminds me: "David shot me mom. That's why I'm here."

She nods slowly. "I know." How did she know? "My job up here is to welcome Chicago afterlife initiates and bring them up here. I saw him in the room when I teleported down."

I nod too. It was too predictable, that the thing that started my mother would finish me. "I'm trying to find Uriah." I tell her, my head still against her. She sniffs my hair and I can feel her heartbeat against my collarbone.

"He's over there." I look to where she's pointing. He's getting a drink of water. For some reason the sight makes me chuckle… in happiness. That's just so Uriah. Of course in a place like this, he is mundanely sipping water from a public fountain. We walk over to him and he straightens.

"Hey Natalie." He greets casually. My eyes widen.

"Please call me Mrs. Prior." I smile at my reserved mother, and suddenly Peter's phrase, 'once a Stiff, always a Stiff' makes more sense than it ever has before. "Let's leave this awful place, shall we?" She extends her hand to Gate 14B which is a hundred yards away.

"Uriah, you should come with us until we can find you a place." I invite and mom doesn't object.

"That sounds lovely." I stifle a giggle because my mom doesn't realize Uriah is making fun of her formality. He grabs my hand and for a second, I forget that I'm not actually living, and that Tobias will never see me again. Since my mom is here, and dad will be soon, and Uriah is here to crack jokes and be my rock for the while, I'm actually happy. For the moment, I think I can continue this life and move on. I can be happy, or try to act like I am at least. This moment, bliss is all I feel.

But as soon as we reach the departing door the feeling plummets.

Let me know what you thought.