And the second chapter's up! I can't believe I managed it so fast. (Just for you, guys).
Thanks to everyone who reviewed, favourited and followed this story. Your support is my greatest motivation.
Just to clear any confusion, Tris thinks of everything that happened to her (the Divergent series canon that is) as her past, and refers to it as 'the first time' or 'last time'. Hope this helps!
Enjoy! Please review!
I walk out of the school, my decisions automatic, already based on the past, or the other reality, as I like to think of it. Because there is no way I am going to let this go the way things had there. I will have to save them, my friends, my family. I rub my forehead in frustration; my head with burst if I keep thinking so hard.
My route leads me to the factionless sector. The city here is broken and dilapidated, at least to the eye. I know that the factionless are well organized in reality, as opposed to what I was taught.
I see the factionless man at a corner, standing in tattered robes and sagging skin. Our eyes meet.
"Excuse me," he says. "Do you have something I can eat?"
I do; just like last time, my parents packed food in my bag to be given to those in need. But I know what is about to happen, I can walk away if I want. But I don't. Perhaps it's the Dauntless pride working more than anything else, this time. I extend my hand, offering him a bag of dried apple slices. He grabs my hand and leers at me.
"My, don't you have pretty eyes," he says. "It's a shame the rest of you is so plain." My heart pounds a little, I can't help it. Calm down, I tell myself.
"Let me go," I say evenly, and tug at his grip. He doesn't relent.
"Do you know Evelyn Eaton?" The question is out of my mouth before I can stop myself. The man's grip slackens. His eyes dart around for a second.
"I do," he says slowly. "She gave me food and other things, once or twice." His eyes dart around like a hunted animal; it is all too easy to see that he is lying. I smirk internally.
"Do you know she is dead?" I keep up with the act.
"Ah, is she now?" His tongue darts out, wetting his chapped lips. "Never heard of it. Sorry to know." He looks at me carefully. "Why do you ask?"
"Nothing. Just feeling sorry for her boy, you know. Left by his mother at such a young age. Left at the mercy of his abusive father. I feel bad for him, that's all." And without giving him time to get a word from his gaping mouth, I walk away.
From what Tobias told me once, he already knows that his mother is alive. I don't know what I was trying to do with this, but I just want to convey the depth of Tobias' misery to Evelyn, because I know this will reach her. Or maybe this is my revenge of sorts to the woman I never came to like.
I just hope I didn't overplay my move.
-o0o-
I wait for Caleb at my doorstep, where I have reached five minutes before time.
"Beatrice!" Caleb says as he arrives with Susan and Robert. "What happened? Are you all right?"
"I'm fine," I reply. Susan is giving me a strange look. I shrug. "When the test was over, I got sick. Must have been that liquid they gave us. I feel better now, though." I try to smile convincingly. I'm sure it comes better than the last time around.
I watch as Susan and Caleb talk, and when they are done, we say our goodbyes and get in.
I manage to answer convincingly enough to Caleb's questioning. As my Mom speaks, I wish Tori hadn't sent me home. After all, my result was alright by appearance. But anyway, I don't pay much thought to it.
We all sit down to dinner.
"I had a difficult day at work," my father says to mother's query about his troubled expression. "Well, really, it was Marcus who had the difficult day. I shouldn't lay claim to it."
I scowl at my plate at the mention of Marcus' name. I hate how he has all the sympathy and respect of his faction.
"Is this about that report Jeanine Matthews released?" my mother says. This time, I don't speak. I don't need to.
"Yes," my father says. His eyes narrow. "Those arrogant, self-righteous—" He stops and clears his throat. "Sorry. But she released a report attacking Marcus's character."
Too right she did, I think viciously. For once, an Erudite report about the Abnegation is accurate. I don't speak, and wonder if my father will divulge anything more. Not that I need to know.
"It said," my father says on his own after a moment's pause, "that Marcus's violence and cruelty toward his son is the reason his son chose Dauntless instead of Abnegation."
"Cruel? Marcus?" My mother shakes her head. "That poor man. As if he needs to be reminded of his loss."
"Of his son's betrayal, you mean?" my father says coldly.
"Tobias didn't betray him," I say without thinking. I can't hear Tobias being spoken about like this; I can't stop myself. All the eyes at the table fall on me.
"Beatrice —" Caleb starts quietly. But I am on the go.
"Tobias did nothing wrong in transferring to Dauntless," I say, my anger spilling out.
"He left his father. His only family! He left the poor man alone!" my father snaps, defending his colleague.
"That's because Marcus is a sadist!" My voice rises to a scream.
"Beatrice!" My mother gasps, but I ignore her.
"Marcus abused Tobias from his childhood. He abused his wife too, enough to force her to run! He tortured his own son! Tobias — he just escaped —" I imagine Marcus in Tobias' fear landscape, branding his belt on him, his expression cold, I can see Tobias curling back, afraid. This is for your own good. My whole body shakes under the sadness and the anger; I blink back tears from my eyes.
"What is this?" My father asks, deadly quiet. "You have been associating with the Erudite? Have they brainwashed you?" Beside me, I see Caleb pale.
"This has nothing to do with the Erudite," I say quietly. "It's the truth."
"Beatrice," my mother's voice is soft but firm. "Apologize to your father." I look at her beseechingly. Don't you know the truth? Why don't you tell them? But perhaps she really does not; her correspondence with David minimized over time.
"I am sorry that I lost my temper," I relent. But I do not apologize for saying the truth. "If you would please excuse me, may I leave the table?"
And not waiting for the answer, I rush upstairs to my bedroom, and drop down on the bed. Tears stain my pillow.
What am I doing? I can't go around spewing facts like this. My first day in a world whose future is in my hands, and I mess up like this. I bury my face deeper into the pillow.
Control, Tris. Keep control over yourself.
And with this thought, I fall asleep, with the faint strains of conversation from my family floating upstairs.
-o0o-
I take the bus with my family to reach the Hub the next morning. Caleb looks calm, but I know the thoughts brewing inside him. They would be in me too, but I don't let any speck of uncertainty cross my decision. Somehow, I feel guilty once again; it feels like I am deserting my family a second time.
But it won't be, I tell myself. I am leaving to save them, not to abandon them. The thought gives me strength.
Despite the outward calm in our demeanor, there is a palpable layer of tension between us four. It is because of my outburst, I realize. My nails dig into my palm as my heart tightens; this is guilt.
We have to climb twenty flights of stairs to reach our destination. I am mentally prepared for this, but it does not lessen the exhaustion; my body is not yet cut out for Dauntless. I surge inside the hall with the crowd as my father holds the door for everyone. I stare back at him until he disappears from view. An Abnegation through and through. Who'd say he was born an Erudite?
My parents reach us before sitting down in the assigned chairs. My father claps Caleb on the shoulder and says, "See you soon." Oh, how mistaken he is.
Then his eyes meet mine, and his smile slips. We stare at each other in uncomfortable silence. I shuffle my feet.
"Dad, I am sorry," I say finally, with complete sincerity. "I shouldn't have shouted yesterday. I got... carried away. I am really sorry." I don't want to admit I was wrong, but I don't want to leave my father after arguing with him.
His eyes soften, and he smiles. I relax. I love how his eyes crinkle at the edges when he smiles. "It's okay, Beatrice," he says. "I suppose the best of us struggle with our tempers at times." He kisses my forehead, and I know I am forgiven.
My mother hugs me, and the image of her body crumpling to the ground flashes before me. I hold on to her even tighter.
"I love you," she says. "No matter what." She has probably guessed my next move. Oh, she always has been so perceptive, my mother.
"Look after Dad," I whisper so that only she can hear. "I love you, Mom."
Perhaps we both know what I am about to do. It sounds so much like a farewell already. It's not the last time, I think to myself, blinking back tears. You'll see her again. So I hope.
And then they leave us to walk ahead, and I am left alone with my choice and my burden.
-o0o-
I tune out all of Marcus' speech as we stand, waiting. I don't want to hear anything said by that man unless absolutely necessary.
And then the names are called out, and the candidates leave for the center one by one. Caleb squeezes my hand so hard it hurts, and I squeeze his hand back. It feels good like this, allowing me to forget, at least for some time, what he has done, what he might do. We stand, holding on to each other until his name is called. I watch as Caleb walks forward, so very pale, and lets his blood drop over the already reddened water in the Erudite bowl. I hear the outraged cry of my father, but I don't feel anything. I don't even feel the sense of loss or betrayal. I just pray that I may sway him, make him into someone better than a suck-up Erudite, a traitor. Because whatever he might be, my brother is not a murderer.
Finally, it is my turn. I don't feel the nervousness, I don't feel the dilemma. I know where I am going. I know where I belong. I glance at Marcus as I take the knife from him, and for a moment, I am lost in those dreaming blue eyes, Tobias' eyes, which transport me to pleasant times. But then I force myself to break the gaze, and break the moment. I thrust my arm out, bringing the knife out.
Dauntless. Divergent.
Pain simmers through my arm, and my blood falls on the burning coals. My breath hitches only a little. The coals sizzle at my offering, as if sending out a welcome message. I straighten, forcing myself not to look at my father sitting in the crowd. Handing the knife back, I walk over to the crowd of Dauntless, and stand behind the crowd of black-draped shoulders and tattoos.
It feels like home already. I am not afraid.
-o0o-
When the Choosing is over, the Dauntless initiates are the first to leave. As I pass the grey cloaked mass — the faction I am leaving, I crane my neck to look at my Dad. As expected, his expression is accusatory. Guilt swamps me momentarily; I defied him twice in two consecutive days. I shake it off. I know who I am. I know what I am supposed to choose.
Beside him, my mother smiles at me. I carry her smile with me, one last thing of my family, as I walk out of the hall with the faction which made me what I am, and has become my family, once again.
As we reach the stairs, all the Dauntless start running. This time I don't feel a speck of fear; I am already home. The sound of so many trampling feet is welcome; laughter spills out from me. This is wild. This is free. Doing this a second time feels so good.
Instead of staying at the back like I did last time, I press forward, pushing through black-clothed and colored shoulders, moving to the front.
We rush down the stairs and burst out on the streets, running amock. I can see the confusion of the other transfers, but I know our destination. I just let the wind blow on my face and welcome the heaving of my lungs and the burning in my muscles. I love this.
While running with the Dauntless crowd, running ahead and ahead, I somehow find myself next to Uriah. My already broad smile broadens so much that my jaw aches. The sight of his windswept curling brown hair and bronzed skin, flushed with exertion, is a sight more than welcome, a beautiful change from how I had seen him last time — in a hospital bed, machines pumping the last of his life through him.
"Hi!" I gasp out when I'm next to him. I can't stop myself. He turns and looks at me.
"Hey," he smiles good-naturedly. "A Stiff, what a surprise! Didn't quite fit in with the rest of your benevolent group, did you?"
I shake my head with a laugh. "Too selfish."
"And too brave, it seems, if you are here," he grins. "Only the nutcases join this faction. I'm Uriah, by the way."
"Tris," I reply. The name feels more natural on my lips than 'Beatrice'. "And you realise that your statement makes you a nutcase yourself, don't you?"
He laughs, but does nothing to contradict me. As we round the corner, I hear a familiar sound — the train horn. My heart sings with joy. Yes. I can't wait to do this.
Despite my eagerness, I let the older Dauntless pile ahead as the train arrives, its doors open, welcoming, its horns blaring and lights flashing. One by one, the people climb into the train, until the initiates are left. The Dauntless-born initiates are next, climbing in easily. It's something they have done since childhood. Uriah is the last one to climb, and then only the transfers are left. I can hear the trepidation of my fellow transfers behind me, but my smile doesn't waver. I jog along with the train, and grabbing the handle, swing myself in. Uriah's hand was stretched to pull me in. He lowers it as I slip in, not even stumbling.
"Wow," he says, wide-eyed. "That was something." I only flash him a cheeky grin and lean out of the train to help the others in. My outstretched hand meets a lean, dark one, and attached to it, a pretty girl in Candor uniform — Christina. My smile widens; it's great to see her as good as new (which she technically is), without injuries or a downward pull to her lip because of the terrible way things went. She stumbles a little, but manages to land on her feet, holding on to me.
"Hi," I grin as we shift deeper inside the train, allowing the others to climb in. "You alright?"
She nods, grinning. "I'm Christina," she says, offering me her hand.
"Tris," I reply, shaking her hand. The confidence I feel now is almost unsettling to me. All the stiffness that comes from being in Abnegation is gone.
"That's not an Abnegation name," she frowns slightly, eyeing my grey clothes. I feel the urge to laugh. Being a Candor gives some perception.
"It's actually Beatrice," I say. "But I don't think it goes too well in Dauntless."
"It doesn't," she agrees, laughing. The train picks up speed as everyone arrives safely in the train cars. Well, not everyone. An Erudite boy was left behind. I feel a twinge of guilt. I knew this was going to happen. Should I not have helped him in? But there is no knowing how the presence of new initiates will change the course of events. I console myself with the thought that being factionless isn't as bad as I once thought it was. It is at least better than death. And death isn't too improbable a possibility in Dauntless.
The train rushes through the city. As much as I want to grip the handles of the door and lean out of the train like Tobias used to, I take the wiser option and sit down. You are an Abnegation transfer, I remind myself. Act like one. But it is so difficult now, after all the Dauntless recklessness and confidence has been ingrained deep inside. I feel like I am betraying myself, acting like someone I am not anymore. How difficult will it become once I am in the Dauntless headquarters? Can I hide what I am from everyone?
"Do you know where we're going?" Christina shouts over the wind. I know, of course, but I only shrug. She raises an eyebrow at my sitting position.
"A fast train means wind," I say. "Wind means falling out. Get down." I can manage myself, but any transfer should not be able to stand the onslaught of the wind. She nods, and sits down beside me so our shoulders touch. It feels good.
"I guess we're going to Dauntless headquarters," I say, lying only slightly. "but I don't know where that is."
"Does anyone?" Christina shakes her head, grinning. "It's like they just popped out of a hole in the ground or something."
A hand touches my shoulder as I look out. "That was quite an impressive ascent into the train. Statistically speaking, you pulled off an extremely rare feat."
I begin to turn my head, but the voice does it for me. All in a moment, my surrounding have melted into the Abnegation quarters, dark against the night, cries and gunshots echoing through the night air. He is standing facing me, his eyes blank and glassy. His gun is pointed at me. I reciprocate the gesture, my heart fluttering in my ribcage. It's me or him. My hand tightens around the trigger...
The shaking of my shoulder brings me to reality.
"Tris!" Christina is saying. "What happened? Are you okay?" But my eyes stay locked on his face. His celery green eyes are not blank, but bright with intelligence. His smile is bemused.
He is alive, he is alive, he is alive, I chant in my head. You didn't kill him.
I force myself to calm down. This is a different reality. I must focus on now.
"I didn't think my looks were that bad," Will says with a confused smile. "You look like you have just seen a ghost."
You are its equivalent.
"It's — it's nothing." I am still working on bringing my nerves to steady. I feel as if I'll fall off the train if someone says 'boo!' to me. "I just — nothing." I shake my head with an embarrassed smile.
"I'm Will," he says. "And you really need to learn to take complements, if that is your usual reaction to them."
"I'm Tris," I say, nodding. If only you knew what was bothering me, Will.
This life is going to take a lot to get used to.
Will, Christina and I sit together as the train moves past the different sectors of the city. Here I finally feel at ease, at least for now. This feels like what it really is — a new beginning. We are together. We will be.
As the train whizzes past the Erudite headquarters, I look out thoughtfully. I wonder how Caleb is now. Is he already drinking in Jeanine's words, morphing into her pawn? I shudder slightly. I really hope not.
"They're jumping off!"
A fellow initiate's shout rouses me from my musings; I have been lost in thought for about half an hour, sitting in silence with Christina and Will. My body aches a little; my neck is stiff.
I make my way with my friends to the door, where the transfers form a line. My heart beats faster, but only a little; it's more excitement than fear. I have done this twice before.
The train runs seven stories high as I look over the shoulders of my fellow initiates, the wind blowing with a cutting coolness. Even now that I am not seized by panic, I can appreciate the sheer ridiculousness of this Dauntless norm — reckless bravery, or certain death.
"We have to jump off too, then," I hear Molly say. I have no difficulty in recognizing her, what with her large nose and crooked teeth.
"Great," a Candor boy replies — Peter, "because that makes perfect sense, Molly. Leap off a train onto a roof."
"This is kind of what we signed up for, Peter," Molly points out. Her statement allows me to acknowledge that the girl has at least some brains.
"Well, I'm not doing it," says an Amity boy behind me — the only transfer from Amity. His cheeks shine with tears. I feel sorry for him. They really should put up a signboard or something before the Choosing — 'Dauntless isn't just about crazy courageous fun. Injuries and deaths possible side effects'.
"You've got to," Christina says, "or you fail. Come on, it'll be all right."
"No, it won't! I'd rather be factionless than dead!" The Amity boy shakes his head, panicking. I can understand how it is for him; from the easy-going life in the fields and gardens of Amity, full of laughter and music, to this, a death-risk. I don't know why he chose Dauntless. But I don't feel so sorry for him this time; better factionless than dead. I imagine him somewhere in a broken building with the other factionless, eating scrambled eggs from a can of peas as someone strums on a banjo. He can live with that.
"You can't force him," I say, glancing at Christina. Her eyes are wide and she looks tense, but she doesn't protest.
This time, I am the first to offer her my hand. She had done so much for me; I feel a need to repay her. She takes it without hesitation, and gives me a grateful smile.
"Thanks," she says. "I just…can't do it unless someone drags me." Sometimes, there is something so beautiful about her honesty.
Hand in hand, we stand at the edge of the car. As it passes the roof, I count, "One…two…three!" I don't doubt myself this time. I just have to take my friend with me.
Together, at three, we launch ourselves off the train. The rooftop rushes to catch me. The impact of my feet hitting the hard concrete sends a jarring pain through my body, but I manage to force my legs to absorb most of the force of contact, and even though I stumble, I land on my feet, unlike the embarrassing sprawl of my first time. Christina grazes her knees against the concrete, and I let go of her hand. She laughs.
"Wow, that was quite some experience," she says. She eyes me, still on my feet. "Well done."
I look around to see the other initiates on the roof with various levels of success at their attempts; I noticed Uriah lean on Lynn's shoulders, gingerly putting his left foot down. Molly clutches her ankle, wincing. Near her, Peter grins proudly; he must have landed on his feet. I reluctantly applaud his result; he managed in his first chance what I could not before my second attempt, fluke or not.
But then a wail jerks my attention to the edge of the building, and my blood runs cold. Rita's sister. I was so absorbed in perfecting my jump that I had completely forgotten about her. I don't try to go near Rita this time, who is sobbing at the edge of the roof as her friend tries to pull her back. Guilt holds me in its cold clutches. I let someone die, even when I knew it was about to happen. I lost a girl her sister. I failed an innocent.
You can't save everyone, I try to console myself. Some lives are bound to be lost. I hope I am right. But my conscience does not allow me to feel better.
My Abnegation shirt feels too heavy for my body; I am used to wearing the tight Dauntless clothes, or at least something that allows me greater access to movement. I roll up my sleeves as I walk towards the other end of the roof.
"Ooh. Scandalous! A Stiff's flashing some skin!" I look up to see Peter pointing at me, smirking. Drew and Molly follow him with their jeering laughter.
I hadn't really thought how I should behave with Peter. He had been insistent on making my life a living hell, but after I saved him at the Amity headquarters, we had developed a sort of reluctant camaraderie. If he had not saved me, my death was certain at the Erudite headquarters. And even though he had admitted that it was merely the need of not owing me his life, and not any positive trait that had forced him to do it, that was something. The last time I had seen him, he was still a traitor, a bully and a coward, but he was with us; he was working on our side. But now as I see his spiteful smile, I know that there is no way of mending things between us. Even if I don't hate his guts enough to wish his death, it does not mean I have to like him.
I throw a frigid glare in the direction of the trio.
"Listen up! My name is Max! I am one of the leaders of your new faction!" I turn towards the found of the voice, and there is Max, standing at ease on the ledge of the roof. Anger boils in my blood as I look at him; he is one of the traitors. But I guess Max wasn't really evil at heart; he was just another pawn of Jeanine Matthews. Anyway, he is yet to bring about any harm, for now.
Confusion and fear spreads among the initiates as Max asks us to step off the roof. I don't hesitate this time; I am not only proud, but also the only one who knows what awaits us at the bottom. I walk to the edge where Max has moved back for us to step up. The wind whips at my face. Calmly, I shrug out of my loose Abnegation shirt, and throw it at Peter. The satisfaction of watching his stunned expression a second time makes my day.
I look down from the top to the sheer drop that awaits me. Not only am I unafraid, I am eager. Because of what I am about to see at the bottom. Or rather, who. I feel giddy with expectation. I can't wait.
Tobias, here I come.
We'll have Tobias in the next chapter!
And I'd like to know this from you — do you think Tris should speak out when Eric asks Christina to hang from the railing by the Chasm? What should be the outcome?
Until next time, folks! :)
