Hullo. Sorry about not leaving an AN before. So basically, this story takes place four years after Tris' death, with most of the same characters. The only people from HG are Peeta, Katniss, Prim, and their basic families.

I wake up to thumping on my door. It's Mom. "Wake up! Long day, sweetie, you have to be at the Aptitude Center in half an hour!"

I groan and roll over, nearly dropping off the bed. "Uh... Yeah, I'm up." I comb my hair into a somewhat passable form of existence, slip on whatever I can find lying around that looks remotely clean (which is quite a feat), and walk down to breakfast.

Parker and Dad sit quietly side by side, both with slightly puffy eyes, as if they'd been crying. I sit down across the table and look at them curiously. "Hey Dad, Parker."

Parker doesn't say anything, just continues eating his breakfast. Dad, however, looks up at me and gives me a watery smile. "Good morning, Peeta." A sip of coffee. "Parker and I were just discussing something." Another sip.

"And what would that be?" I poured myself some cornflakes and cut a banana in a bowl, pouring milk over the two.

"Peeta, son, I want you to know that whatever you choose tomorrow, I will stand by it. You deserve to have a choice in life. I'm an old man now, and... I just want you to know that you boys make me happy."

I feel tears stinging my eyes. I must not cry. I must not. I swallow them.

"I understand that, Dad. It's just about the best gift you could give me. Thank you."

"I love you boys."

Mom walks in at that moment. She smiles, at each of us in turn. "My sweet, sweet boys, good luck for your aptitude tests." She comes to me and gives me a hug, which I gladly return. When I break away, she looks tearful, so I squeeze her hand.

I realize that our parents must know that we're leaving. I feel a strange pain in my chest.

I clear my throat. "Uh, Parker, aren't we supposed to be at the Center in ten minutes?"

He looks at his watch and nods. "Yeah, let's get going. He grabs a muffin and we head out, but not after I hug my Mom once more. She really does look like she's about to cry. As I pull away, she says, "Look at my children, all grown up."

I smile. "I love you, Mom."

She purses her lips and runs into the house.

I sigh, and look at Parker. "C'mon, bro."

We climb into the car and set off.

-••—••-••—••-

I fidget in place. "I'm so glad M isn't too far down the alphabet line." I whisper to Parker. He nods, his knee bouncing like crazy.

We're at the end of L already. Three names before Parker. He looks at me. "I'll be with Rose, alright? Over there." He points at a table, where his girlfriend sits. She's a smart-aleck like him. They're probably going to join Erudite together and ride off into the sunset or something.

"Okay." I close my eyes and lean back in the chair, only looking up when my brother's name is called.

"Parker MELLARK, please report to room 1A." I wonder why they do that, boom the last name out so loud. Anyway.

I see him peck Rose in the lips and walk over to the room they specified. I give him a thumbs up and mouth, "Good luck."

"You too," he mouths back.

Those who have taken the test are taken into another Waiting Room until the end of their Faction Testing, when they are all released.

I feel a nervous bubble rise in my throat, so I look down at my hands and concentrate on flexing the open and shut. I realize they are shaking.

I'm scared. It dawns on me that I'm scared of the result I may get. I don't know what I'd do if I got Amity. Probably ignore the results and choose something else. But what? I'm so unremarkable. What could I possibly get other than Amity?

"Peeta MELLARK, please report to room 3F."

I stand up, wipe my palms on my trousers, and walk over to the door of the room. I knock, remembering how it is always polite to do so.

Inside is a stark reclining chair with some weird attachment on the headpiece, and a small table. One wall of the room is devoted to a mirror. A man stands by the table, looking at me. He's dark-skinned, with deep dimples at even a hint of a smile. He can't be older than 22, but I can tell that he's been through a lot of not-so-nice things by the way he looks at me. He's wearing black. Dauntless.

"My name is Zeke," he says quietly. "I'll be administering your aptitude test. C'mon over here." He sits me down on the chair and picks up a syringe filled with cloudy liquid. "Arm or neck?" He asks.

I look at him blankly. "What?"

He rolls his eyes. "Do you want the serum injected into your arm or your neck, idiot?" He flashes me a smile, but then it's gone.

"Uh... Doesn't make a whole lot of difference, does it?" I say.

He nods. "Right. Well, this serum will put you in hallucination mode. You'll be offered a series of dilemmas, and your answers will determine your result. It takes five seconds for the serum to activate." He holds up my arm and slaps it a couple of times so the vein stands at attention. "Ready?"

I nod. He presses and injects. I close my eyes.

One, two, three, four... And everything turns white.

I open my eyes. I'm standing in the same room as before, but there's no one else here. Zeke is gone. I look back and see that the chair is gone, replaced by a low table with a gun and a loaf of bread on it.

A deep voice behind me bellows, "Choose."

I hesitate, and reach for the bread. But then I stop. Because isn't that what I'm trying to escape? The bread. Amity. Kindness. But the gun. Whatever it entails means I'll have to kill.

No.

"No."

"Choose!"

"Why should I?"

"CHOOSE."

"I'm not going to. I can't fail this test, plus, it's a fricking simulation. It's not real." I cross my arms.

The world dissolves.

I hear a gunshot, and screaming.

I'm in a dark alley, and all around me I can see rubbish. The sounds are coming from around the corner. I peek around it, to see what's going on. I see a factionless man holding a gun, pointing it at a rich lady. Behind her lies a man, slumped, his clothes darkened with blood. I close my eyes, but then open them again to survey the situation.

"Give me your stuff or you're dead, lady." Behind him stands a thin, emaciated child, who he seems to be protecting.

Of course. Bread or gun. I was stupid. I should have chosen one. With the gun I could have shot the man and the kid, or the bread I could have given to them. They would've backed off.

I need to think of something. I look around, trying to see something that could set off an idea. All I see is garbage. There's nothing.

The lady is gonna die because of me.

I suddenly jump up and slap myself. "This isn't real," I tell myself. "Save the woman."

I see the man poised to shoot.

I run.

I yell, and slap the gun out of the man's hand, but not before he pulls the trigger. I see it go off in my leg but I feel no pain.

The scene dissolves again.

I sit in a dark room at a table, my hands cuffed in front of me.

On the table lies a picture of my father.

I see a man at the other side of the room. "Listen, kid. You tell me if you know this guy, you go free. He dies, but you go free. Now tell me. And don't lie. I'll know if you lie." His shades flash, and I can tell he's Candor. "You lie, you die."

But if I tell you about my father, he dies, I think.

"No," I say slowly. "I don't know who this is."

The man takes off his shades. "You sure about that, kid?" He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a gun. "You sure?"

I feel the hair on my neck stand, and I frown. "Sure I'm sure, Candor."

He comes over to me. "Well, then." I feel the cold circle of a gun on my head, and hear a bang and then it's over.

I open my eyes to see Zeke standing over me. "Get up." He says quietly.

I stand. "What was my result?"

He doesn't move.

"Well?" I say loudly.

He grabs my arm. "Shut the hell up, kid." He runs a hand over his face. "Your results were inconclusive."

I look at him. "Uh, what's that supposed to mean?"

He looks me in the eye.

"Erudite," he says. "Dauntless." He shakes his head. "Abnegation."

I gape at him. "Wait, what? THREE results?"

He nods. "Listen, kid. You're special. You're not supposed to be this way. If anyone finds out what you are, you could be killed." He pinches the bridge of his nose.

"There's only one other person who has ever had these three results." He says slowly. "She's dead now."

I clench my jaw. "So you're telling me that I'm different and might as well be dead?"

He shakes his head wildly. "No! No. I'm not saying that. Listen... Your test was the strangest test I've ever seen. People like you are called Divergent. You can't tell anyone about this." He grips my arm. "You hear me? No one!"

I wrench my arm away from him. "I get it! Can I go now?"

He looks at me, sadness in his eyes. "I'm going to send you home early," he says. "Because you got sick. The serum made you throw up and you had to go home. Got it?"

I nod. "Wait. What exactly... Is a Divergent?"

He shakes his head. "I can tell you this much. Do NOT join Erudite. Under any circumstances. They will kill you. Abnegation would be good for you, but I have a feeling it's not really for you. Dauntless would be the best. We'll train you how to fight. If you do join Dauntless... I will find you, and I will tell you what you are."

I nod, and stumble out of the room in a daze.