Author's Notes: *waves to the readers*

Yeah... I've updated again. Two times in one day. That's a first for me. Hopefully, I can post another one tomorrow.

RATING: Rated 'M' for 'Mature'. NSFW. Strong adult language. Strong adult content.

WARNING: This story is A/U and Non-Canon. In this story, there aren't mentions of divergents, the Abnegation massacre, the war and other incidents from the "Divergent Series".

DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything from The Divergent Series. The only people that I own are the OCs.

Chapter Two: Falling Out of Love

"First best is falling in love. Second best is being in love. Least best is falling out of love. But any of it is better than never having been in love."
― Maya Angelou

Jittery hands held onto the sheets of paper while exerted eyes focused on the checkered handwriting that was on the paper. Plump lips recited the etched words. Occasionally, her lips stumbled and stammered, but she persevered. "…the crop of initiates passed were in effect…" The process of her recitation was disrupted, when her hearing picked up the sounds of footsteps, as they approached her jeep. She looked away from her speech and looked out of her windshield. She spotted a pair of men strolling alongside the vehicle, on the sidewalk. The men were engaged in a private conversation as they walked and they did not notice Nasira's gazing. She continued to stare at them until they became floating, black dots in her rear view mirror. Her eyes' sight drifted off of the mirror and landed on the jeep's dashboard clock. She read the time as being '8:54AM'.

"Whew!" her lips huffed. The back of Nasira's head collided with the driver seat's headrest. Her stinging eyes focused on the scenery that was outside of the windows. Her body soon began to settle down and relax in the smooth leather seat. She was tired. Ever since her phone conversation with her uncle, she has been awake. It felt like a million's worth of thoughts had gone through her mind since she disconnected that call.

Then, there was the phone's text message from her mother. It gave her the motivation to start her writing project. Her tired eyes and trembling fingers proceeded to follow the orders that came from her emotionally-frazzled yet energetic mind. As she wrote, her mother's suggestions stayed in the foreground of her conscious. She kept references about Eric's personal life from out of the passages. Whenever she would slip up, she would take her pen and cross out the statements. Four hours passed before she came to a stop.

After deciding to call it quits with the writing, Nasira was still energized from the abundance of adrenaline that was running through her. Her skin buzzed while her heart raced and her stomach churned. There were fringes of anxiousness that intermittently lashed at her spirit. The anxiety was the culprit that forced her to leave the comfort space that was her bed and prepare for the day. As she showered, she had gone through an itinerary for her visit to The Mind. She had chosen to dress in clothes that were more business-appropriate than her typical casual clothes. She figured that her ruffled blouse, dress slacks and stiletto heels wouldn't cause her to stand out, according to the staff that worked in the building. After giving her backpack a thorough inventory inspection, she gathered up her desired belongings and left her home. Once she arrived to The Cook County Plaza, home for The Mind, The Training Facility and the Defense Department, she had chosen to lounge in her parked jeep and go over her speech.

'Come on, Nass. Come on… Now,' her conscience urged her. On the exhalation, she opened her eyes. She lifted her head away from the seat and then she gathered the papers from off of her lap. She neatly folded the speech and she stored it inside of her backpack. A full-body shudder erupted from her just as a hearty yawn came pouring out of her mouth. Her limbs stretched out and trembled as they chased away the fatigue. She gave the street another glance before she grabbed her backpack off of the passenger's seat and exited the vehicle. She was welcomed to the outside by a brisk wind that chilled her satin-covered arms. She chased away a shiver that ran down her back. Her sight scanned both ends of the neighborhood before she removed herself from her jeep's vicinity. She slipped her backpack on and began to travel to the plaza.

Seventeen minutes later, Nasira arrived to The Mind's main entrance. 'Be cool. Act like you're supposed to be here,' her conscience encouraged her as she passed through the sliding doors' threshold. She was immediately wrapped up in a thick blanket of warm air, which swiftly warmed up her chilled skin. She appreciated the warmth.

She entered the spacious, main lobby and was struck by the very desolate environment. With the exception of the eight armed security guards, the lobby was empty. There weren't any signs of activity coming from the elevators, from the corridors or from the stairwells. It felt unusual being immersed in such emptiness. Even her footsteps reminded her of the emptiness as they echoed as she strolled up to the checkpoint station.

Nasira gazed at the three guards who commandeered the checkpoint station. One officer was handling the X-Ray scanner while he was engaged in a conversation with a guard, who was idle. The other two officers manned the free-standing, metal detector. All eyes were focused on her.

"Good morning, all," she pleasantly greeted, when she was within ear-range.

"Good morning," all three officers replied. The sounds bounced off of the walls that made up the cavernous lobby and formed echoes.

All five Dauntless members scoped out the lobby and then each other before they erupted in casual chuckles.

"Okay, ma'am. Please put your backpack on the conveyor belt," the scanner's operator instructed, chuckling.

"Okay," she softly uttered. She stripped her back of the leather bag and she placed it on the conveyor belt.

"Ma'am…" the guard that stood by the metal detector wordlessly instructed her to enter, by using his hand.

Nasira followed his instruction. She strolled into the metal detector and she passed through without any complications. She was instructed to take her belongings from off of the conveyor belt. She grabbed her bag and gave the men a polite farewell before she made her way to the elevator bank. Her shoe-clad feet left more echoes in their wake as she made her way to the short hall of elevators. Once there, her manicured nails pressed a button on the metal plated console, which requested for an elevator. She casually strolled into the center of the bank and was showered with anxiety. Her teary eyes scanned the empty hall with a frenetic pace.

'Please Max. Please… Just listen to what I have to say… Please...' she silently pled.

"PING! GROUND… FLOOR!"

She performed a quick surveillance of each elevator's meter and discovered the responsible party. A ball of pressure managed to bury its way into her stomach, causing her abdominals to tighten up. She released a trembling sigh and strolled up to the obeying elevator. She stepped onto the elevator's carriage as soon as she was able to slip her body inside, pass the sliding doors. Her left set of fingers pressed for silver button that was marked with the number '8'.

'Please-please-please Max…'

Once she was in seclusion, she began to exhibit signs of anxiousness. She hummed. Her fingertips rhythmically tapped against the outer curves that were a part of her thighs. She fidgeted as stood in the center of the carriage. Her brain kept releasing silent pleas to the Alpha Regent of the Dauntless faction.

"PING! EIGHTH…FLOOR!" The feminine, electronic voice system sung into the carriage. There was a smooth halt in the movement and the doors slid open, a few seconds later. The elevator bank was soon put on display.

"Oh-oooh…" her lips groan as her stomach erupted in a case of queasiness. She knew that she couldn't blame her pregnancy on this case.

Her eyes wearily stared into the short foyer as her feet led her off of the elevator. 'Okay… Now find Max,' ordered her conscience. She made her way to the front desk area, where the main directory operator would sit. She half-way expected to see a receptionist sitting there. She was quickly reminded of the fact that it was a Sunday morning. She veered away from the front desk and entered the corridor that was adjacent from the circular desk. The corridor only led to one office, Max's office-suite. As she was drawn closer to the office, her anxiety's grip became stronger. 'Okayokayokayokayokayokayokay…' She strolled down the stone-aligned hallway to the floor-to-ceiling glass wall that showcased the waiting room. By the time she reached the entrance to his suite's waiting area, she felt like she was going to vomit, faint or even run away.

Instead, she had chosen to enter the waiting room area.

"Okay…Okay…Okay…Okay… You gotta do this," she whispered to herself. Her eyes landed on the pair of closed doors that were several feet across from her stance. "You gotta do this," she told herself. She made the initiate step. Then, she committed to a few more steps, which led to another series of steps. Soon, she found herself standing in front of the pair of doors that guarded the faction leader's office.

Her trembling, left fist rose to the door and lingered. 'You can…' Three knocks were formed against the door. She placed her hand by her side and listened out for noises that would come from the other side of the door. She was gifted with a streak of silence. Her left fist rose and knocked once more. A few seconds later, there were muffled sounds that could only be associated with the act of movement that occurred from the other side. It began as soft patter and rose to the sounds of footsteps as the seconds passed. The sounds of the door knob turning filled her ears. 'Okay. O—

The door was pulled several inches away from the frame before the space was filled with a familiar person.

Nasira's dark brown orbs took in the Dauntless leader that stood before her. Her sight caught the very brief expression of surprise that marked his face. His eyes widened in length as his brain informed him of her presence. His lips slightly parted.

Then just as quick the expression had appeared, it disappeared. A look of acknowledgement grew on his face. A lukewarm smile marked his lips. His head performed a few half-hearted nods while a light exploded in his eyes. He sighed and his head stopped moving. "Good morning, Miss Grant," remarked Max, seconds later.

"Good morning, Dauntless Leader Wright," she greeted him. Her voice held onto a masquerade that gave off the impression that she was in control of herself. It was further than the truth.

"I know why you're here…" the alpha regent of the Dauntless leaders, informed her. He pulled away from the doorframe and he took a few steps into his right side. "…and I should've…" He pushed the door open. "…known that you would come here." His left hand performed a powerless swing into this office. "Please… Come inside," he offered.

'Okay, this is it, Nass,' her logical side announced. 'This is your time.'

She gifted the leader with a tight-lipped, weak smile before she made the initiated step into the threshold. Eyes peered at the spacious office that was in front of her and she scanned the features. She took note that his office depicted her godfather as a man that didn't have the time to clean and organize. After all, he was the leader that held onto the largest portion of the responsibilities.

"Please excuse the messiness. I don't have the time to clean in here. Plus, I don't…" Max walked past Nasira to further enter his office. "…trust people in my office, when I am not here." The leader approached the back of his desk and stood there.

"It's… It's alright," she muttered as she walked across the carpeted floor.

Max approached his desk and stood in the gap that was in between his rolling chair and the desk's edge. He glanced at his computer's monitor and then at Nasira. "I have to be somewhere in twenty minutes," he notified her.

She knew the underlying message that was in the statement. She had twenty minutes to state her case. She had twenty minutes to try to convince Max that Eric didn't deserve death for his crime. She believed that he didn't deserve such a horrible fate. She also believed that her children shouldn't endure the after-effects that would've come from his death. So, she had one-thousand and two-hundred seconds to keep Eric alive.

"Th-Thank you Max—I mean, Dauntless Leader Wright—for allowing me to come here and state my p-p-purpose for this visit. I…" She turned her attention to her knapsack which was hanging off of her right shoulder. "…came here to…" She peeled the strap off of her shoulder and held it in front of her. "…speak to you…" Her right set of fingers unzipped the largest pocket's clasp. "…about Eric." Her fingers delved pass the slit that was left and searched for the folded papers. "I…" She glimpsed at Max. "…feel that…" Her voice trailed off. Her fingertips brushed up against a smooth, cold paper surface. 'Got it.' She rapidly grasped the speech and yanked it out. She glimpsed at Max, again. "I don't… I don't think he should be…" Her voice trailed off. She couldn't say the word. It made her uncomfortable. It conjured up the fear.

Max stood several feet in front of her, with his arms crossed over his broad chest and his right thumb and index fingers lightly pinching at his chin. He held the posture of a military leader. He wore his authority like it was a coat. His stance was ramrod with his shoulders straight and his eyes displaying a soul-piercing gaze. The gazing caused his goddaughter's skin to shiver. He kept the staring going on as he stated, "Why should I grant Eric mercy?"

"I'm-I'm not asking you to give him a slap-on the-wrist, sir. I—

"Trust me, anything other than an execution is a 'slap-on the-wrist', Nasira."

Her stomach grotesquely churned after hearing that statement.

"Tell me… Why shouldn't Eric be executed for murdering Fix Humphries?"

Confusion and irritation soon formed inside of her. She wasn't able to decipher Max's feelings, from his voice. He sounded as if he was a parent in the process of scolding a child. Yet, he didn't sound angry. His tone contained fringes of sarcasm, but she didn't sense a twinge of discord from the leader. Her lack of being able to pinpoint his emotions, irritated her.

"I… Don't think that you—

She turned away from her faction's leader-in-charge and she glanced at the folded paper. 'Now… Give him the speech,' urged her conscience. Her right set of fingers helped her slip the backpack's leather strap onto her right shoulder. The bag swung behind her and butted up against her right set of ribs. Once she realized it was secure, Nasira turned her focus to the folded sheets of paper and proceeded to read her speech.

"I've come here to-today…" Her eyes glimpsed at Max and then returned to reading. "…humbled and apolo…apologetic for taking any…Any of your time while I—

"No…"

The word caused Nasira to stop reading off of the first page of her speech. 'What?' The sense of surprise rapidly altered into her fear, once she recognized the severity that lain behind that word. She peeled her gaze off of the paper and she focused on the face that belonged to the faction leader. "Wha-What did you say, sir?"

"I said…No," he nonchalantly confirmed. He was staring at the monitor again, at the screen. "I want you…" Max's fingers tapped several times against the keyboard. He glanced at her. "To tell me why I shouldn't put in the order of execution for Dauntless Leader Coulter," he ordered. He shook his head. "I don't want to hear any speeches or any scientific studies…" His left index finger pointed at her. "…I want to hear your opinion." He stepped away from his computer and looked towards his chair. His right hand grabbed the jacket that was hanging from the back.

'He is by the book… 'Faction before blood'…He is able to separate his emotions from his role as leader…' Her mother's words replayed inside of her skull as she numbly stared at Dauntless' alpha regent. Nasira couldn't make sense of Max's motive. She felt that his order was a 'trick question', a test to weigh her moral character. Her heart felt like it banged against her chest. Nervously, she muttered, "I think that…"

"Mmm-hmm," he hummed as his head gave out soft nods.

"…he's made a mistake and—

"A mistake?" chuckled Max, in a snarky manner. "That's a nice way of putting it."

Her lips parted, so she could speak. But her sense of embarrassment snatched up her courage and her voice. She glanced at the carpet.

"Miss Grant, you're here to fight for your boyfriend's life…"

Shock filled her spirit. 'Boy…' Nasira's wide eyes quickly peered at the man, who was standing several feet in front of her. '…friend?' Her cheeks burned from the combination of shock and embarrassment.

"…and you're here to make sure that your son will have a father, by the end of next week. This is not the time for your shyness and insecurity to get the best of you," Max told her. "So, let's try this again… Why do you feel Dauntless Leader Coulter shouldn't receive the punishment of death? Why should he receive exemption from this penalty, when there were countless men and women, who weren't given this same treatment? Why shouldn't his blood be spilled, even though he didn't even give Fix this same kind of consideration?"

'…I…I….I-I-I-I…'

Max's barrage of inquiries left the mother absolute stunned. Each statement left the woman without an answer. Each inquiry held a message that exposed the brevity of this situation. They also made Nasira unwillingly reveal to herself the level of selfishness that she possessed.

'….A boy died…And here I am—

"So… Tell me, Miss Grant… Why should I do it? Why should I keep Dauntless Leader Coulter from off of the chopping block? Tell me," asked the Dauntless alpha regent leader.

'I-I-I-I—

"I don't know," she whimpered, confessing. She shook her head.

"No, I know you have a reason," Max pointed out. He proceeded to slip into his jacket. "I think you have one…" He straightened out each of the lapels with his hands. "There's a reason why you got out of your bed this morning and you came all-the-way here, in order to speak to me." He glanced at the front of his jacket before he returned his gaze at Nasira. "Where's that reason?"

'I—

"Can't tell you my reasons," she blurted out in a whisper.

"Yes…" Max stepped out of the space that was in between his chair and the desk. His feet carried him to the right side of his desk, in a casual stroll. He kept his steady gaze on her as he walked. "…you can, Miss Grant…" He walked to the front of his large desk. "…I want to hear them. I am only interested in hearing about them." Max came to a halt in his journey when he reached the center of his desk. He sat on the edge of the desktop. His arms folded over his chest.

Nasira shook her head. "They are personal an—

"And?" the leader sarcastically stated. "I still want to hear them anyway."

'No, he can't know. Faction over blood. My needs don't matter. Convince him to save Eric.'

Her lips parted and she allowed a short exhale to rush past her lips before she shut them, closing off any possible attempt at speaking. Reservation had taken over and caused her to 'second guess' Max's order. Her dark brown orbs peered away from his prying eyes and she chose to stare at the contents that was behind him. In regards to the alpha leader, she gently shook her head. "It… They don't matter," she confessed, with a neutral inflection to her raspy voice. "Faction before blood." Her eyes focused on the backs that belonged to the family of picture frames, which were on his desk. "My needs and my children's needs don't come before the faction's. If you believe that Eric is a menace and should be…" She paused. The word that was formed inside of her mind and was about to be spewed from her plump lips, caused a knot to build inside of her throat. "That he should be… Executed, then you have made the right choice. So… It really doesn't matter."

Silence had fallen upon them and it has brought along a thick sense of emotional tense with it. The office-suite was filled with the negative energy and it caused the atmosphere to feel colder and lonelier for the expecting mom.

"Alright then…" groaned the leader, disrupting the silence. Max slipped from the edge of the desk and stood on his two feet. His hands took a lapel. "…let's hear that speech of yours," he commanded as he straightened his blazer's lapels.

Nasira's eyes unintentionally closed just as the soothing sensation that was her relief, came crashing down on her. There was a deep shiver and it caused her skin to continuously buzz. She opened her eyes and peered down at her right hand, which still held onto her speech. The plea that was supposed to convince Max to spare her children's father's life. Fingers unfolded the paper and soon held onto them. She peered down at the long, block of words that were written during the early hours, as she was fueled by fear and frantic determination. Her lips parted. "Good morning… I come to stand before you, today… Both humbled and appreciative. Not too many people are lucky enough to stand before you, Dauntless Leader Wright and are able to state their causes…" Her eyes performed a glimpsed at the leader. He remained rooted in his spot with his attention placed on her. Feeling satisfied yet cautious, she peered down at the paper again and resumed reading her speech to him. "Today, I have to come to you in a state of desperation and hungry for mercy. Not for myself. For… For other people: I've come in hopes of convincing you to spare the life of Dauntless Leader Eric Lucien Coulter… And I've come here for the lives of…" She glanced at Max, once more. 'Well… Here it goes.' She focused on the paper's contents and resumed reciting her speech. "The Dauntless citizens, which includes my son Eric Lucien Coulter, Junior and for the unborn child that I am currently carrying…" She paused for a second. "I've come here to try to attempt to… To convince you that Dauntless Leader Coulter is not a menace or a monster or a mad dog that is capable of murdering due to some sort of bloodlust. He is a man. A man that has flaws. One of those flaws being his drug addiction; his dependency for the drug that is called 'Wept'. I am aware that I am asking you to… Ignore your instincts, which just happens to disregard the judicial traditions that we have here, at Dauntless. I understand that for a man to unrighteous take another 's life, he must face the consequences, which is to have his life taken. But, Dauntless Leader Coulter did not take…"

Nasira continued with her recitation of the speech, which she had written up. Occasionally, her eyes would lift away from the paper and glimpse at Max. She wanted to make sure that the leader was playing the role of captured audience member. She wanted to make sure that this wasn't for naught.

"Alright, Miss Grant," the alpha regent leader announced, after several minutes passed.

Nasira abruptly came to a halt with her reading and she stared at the man, who stood before her. Her eyes took in his form and grew wide with alarm. 'No… No-no-no-no-no-no-no… No!' She watched Max continue to lock up his desk's drawers.

"…I have to go… And handle some business," Max announced.

'NO! STOP HIM!' her conscience screamed at her. Her lips trembled as stammering words fell past them. "B-But-But… M-My-My spee-spee-spee-spee…Ech! I have to fin-finished my—

Max glanced at her. "You can finish the rest as we ride down in the elevator," he suggested.

'No-No-No… He won't pay attention… He's not going to—Make him listen!'

Her eyes continued to stare at her faction's leader, all the while, standing helplessly in the same spot. After watching Max manually shut down his computer and straighten his blazer once more, he approached her.

Once in close proximity, Max stated a "Let's go, Miss Grant" into her direction, before he walked away.

She remained in her stance and listened to a short melody of his footsteps, before she accepted the fact that she couldn't play the role of spectator anymore. With reluctance in her steps, she followed the faction leader as made his exit from out of his office. Once in the waiting room's area, she walked at a snail's pace. He allowed her to enter the wing's corridor first. She walked in the corridor, not waiting for the leader. She knew that he was office-suite a final perusal. She wasn't halfway near the midway point in the corridor, when he joined her side.

"Come on," he ordered before putting more speed into his walking.

Her gaze landed on his broad back as he strolled further away. He reached the hallway's exit in no time. He tossed her glare from over his left shoulder. 'Hurry up,' her conscience alerted her. She proceeded to speed up her pace, as if a switch that controlled her, was powered on. Quick steps and she soon caught up with the man that was her godfather. As they walked to the elevator, Max kept silent and kept his stare straight ahead. His aura gave off an energy that told her that he held tension in him.

Once in the elevator bank, the duo of Dauntless figures didn't have to wait for long. As soon as Max's thumb left its imprint on the service button, the small chamber was filled with the elevator's smooth electronic voice. To Nasira, it felt as if fate was not on her side. 'Everything is not going… Right. I'm going to…' Max allowed her to enter the carriage before he stepped inside. Her morose-laden eyes stared at the leader and she wished that she could read his mind. She wanted to know if he actually listened to her speech. Did he empathize with her plight? Would he take her words and feelings into consideration?

"You can finish reading your speech, now," Max instructed as the elevator's doors closed. He kept his sight on the silver, metal doors.

Nasira meekly nodded her head as she gave him a naïve, wide-eyed stare. Her sight landed on the paper that was in her right hand. 'He's gonna—

"Dauntless Leader Coulter is a thorough and an effective leader. He has given more insight to the crops of initiates that has come into Dauntless, within the last six years than any other…"

'He's going to be executed.'

A force managed to cause blockage inside of her throat. A high-pitched gasp exited her mouth. With watery eyes, she kept her eyes on the tear-stained sheet of paper. She kept on reading, stating her cause.

"…saving his role as leader. I wrote this because I want his life to be spared. He deserves to prove his remorse—

"Do you believe that he is remorseful?"

Syllables died on her lips. Her eyes lifted their focus away from the paper and turned it towards the back of the Dauntless leader's head.

"Do you believe…" He glanced over his left shoulder at her. "…that he is remorseful?" he repeated.

"Yes," she answered, tearfully.

"Why?" He gazed at the silver doors. "Why do you think he is remorseful?"

"Because he would rather die than fight in a courtroom," Nasira pointed out.

Max clicked his teeth. "How do you know that? I've worked closely with Eric for over five years. I can tell you that he is a perfectionist that takes imperfection seriously. This situation is one major fuck-up for him. It is a huge-fucking-stain on his near-pristine record. Knowing Eric… He would rather get a bullet through his skull than to walk these halls as a disgraced officer."

'He has a point, but…' The face of their son flashed across her mind's eye. "Luke."

"What about—

"He wouldn't do this… This…" She stammered as she tried to conjure up an appropriate word. "…This…Th-this… Assisted suicide! He loves Luke and he wouldn't do this, if he wasn't consumed with guilt!"

Max leveled a glare at her that left their effects to linger in her soul. "What about you?"

"He doesn't care." She shook her head and mildly grimaced. 'He doesn't care about me.' Her eyes glimpsed at the floor. "Not me… Not me," she professed. She glanced at the alpha regent. "He wouldn't give his life the middle finger because of a tarnished record! He wouldn't… You say that he can't handle humiliation, but did you ever think about how he would feel about his legacy? He… Max… He wouldn't. I know this."

The tension in the small chamber became thicker with added touches of her desperation and mild frustration. 'Come on, Max. Come on! Think!'

The Dauntless Alpha Regent released a slow inhale as he turned his face forward. He audibly exhaled. A wave of silence filled the small room. "Are you in love with him?"

"Uh… Unfortunately, yes," she confessed. She shrugged her shoulders and presented with a simpering smile. "What can I say?" She glanced at the floor. "I am an idiot," she murmured.

Before more words could be uttered, the carriage announced its arrival. A harmonious, electronic bell and a "Sub-level… Two" was announced.

'No…NO!' Nasira eyed the elevator's counter and saw that they were indeed in the cellar. 'The Catacombs,' her brain sighed. She gazed at Max's head as her belly coiled from the elevator's halt. "M-M-M-M-Max… Can you…" In her peripheral view, she watched the elevator's doors begin to separate. "…Can you… Can you please take what I said in account? P-Please?" she said into his back.

The doors slid into their respective slots and soon revealed the sub-level floor. Nasira was struck by a wave of paint-scented, cold air. Her sight took in the company of Dauntless soldiers that took up space in the well-lit corridor. Each man was armed with semi-automatic rifles and each soldier held their fingers close to the triggers. All eyes were aimed at her and the Dauntless leader.

"Miss Grant…" He turned his head slightly. "…this elevator will take you back topside."

"Max—

"Miss Grant," grunted Max, cutting her off. He was unleashing fringes of his frustration. "You will be going to the surface. This conversation is done." He gave her a brief glance. Then he had taken steps off of the elevator.

"Sir! I'm not trying to debate or be argumentative…" She took a pair of steps towards the exit. "…I just would like some form of confirm—

"Ma'am…"

Her vision was abruptly filled up with a broad, masculine chest that was covered by a dark-colored, flak jacket. Her vision drifted to the face that were several inches northward. Startling, bright blue eyes were focused on her face.

"…stay on the elevator and go upside," the soldier ordered.

Her sight on the retreating form of their leader. "Max!" she shouted.

"Ma'am, please get back into the elevator," the soldier ordered.

Nasira gave the soldier a short glower. She looked at Max again. Urgency filled her as she watched the leader board a electric cart. "Max!" she screamed.

"Ma'am!" groaned the guard. "Go!" His left pointer finger was aimed at her. "Go upstairs, now!"

Water-filled eyes scanned the face of the man that stood before her. During her surveillance, the thought about this man's possibility of having a family. Her face was filled with heat. A strange string of jealousy had formed around her heart.

"Ma'am… Please go," he ordered. His tone was less hostile yet it managed to hold its authority.

Nasira's feet made backward steps. Her eyes remained on the soldier. Meanwhile, her stiletto-clad feet committed to small, backward steps into the elevator's carriage. It wasn't until her back bumped into the smooth, cold wall, when she broke the eye contact. Her head whipped to the side to eye the force that bumped into her. She turned to face the soldier in time to see the elevator's doors slide close.

The carriage began to rise, giving her stomach the rippling effect. Her eyes turned to the elevator's counter and watched the panel's contents light up. She also experienced the window of possibility to help Eric, become smaller. 'He's gonna die. He's gonna… I know it. I know it.'

"GROUND…FLOOR!"

Nasira's fingers touched her sunglasses once more to make sure that they were straight. She also wanted to make sure that her reddened eyes were covered. She didn't want her son's caretaker to know that she was crying, and crying for Eric, nonetheless. Her fingertips typed in the door's key-code and she listened for the low-volume, high-pitched monotone.

"Mama. Mama. Mama," she heard her son chant, from the inside of the apartment.

The mother mustered up the best smile that she could. It was the first time that Lucien's presence didn't cause an explosion of joy in her. It was hard for her. The boy reminded her of his father.

She turned the doorknob and opened the door. Like always, Lucien met her at the door with his beautiful self. His dark gray orbs radiated as they gazed at her. "H-Hey, Lukie-Bear," she weakly greeted the toddler.

"Mama…" The boy gave a floppy wave. "…Mama!"

"Hi, baby boy," she said in a hoarse voice. She stepped into the home and closed the door. "Where is Sophie?" she asked him.

"Fee-Fee!" he chirped. His left index finger pointed towards the kitchen. "Fee-Fee!"

"She's in the kitchen?" she sweetly said to the boy.

"Fee-Fee," he announced before running into the direction of the kitchen.

Nasira peeled her backpack off of her back and then she stripped off her shoes. She deposited the items on the couch before she approached the island counter. She eyed the teen as she stood in front of the stove. The caretaker was preparing dinner. "Hey Sophie," the woman announced as she sat in a stool.

The girl glanced at Nasira from over her right shoulder. "Good evening, Miss G! I'll be with you in a minute." She turned her attention to the contents that were on the stove. "I just want to turn… This… Chicken over."

"It's alright. Take your time. In fact..." She slid off of the stool. "… I am going to change out of my clothes and get in the shower real quick," she explained.

"Alright ma'am. Dinner will be done, when you return," the nanny told her.

"Okay." She stepped away from the counter and gone back to the couch to fetch her belongings.

"Mama-Mama-Mama-Mama-Mama…"

She glanced over at her son as he entered the living room. His bare feet performed a series of steps to his mother's location. She smiled at her son.

"…Mama…" He held his left hand out for her.

"You wanna go with me?"

Lucien nodded his head.

A genuine smile reached her face. She took his hand in her right hand. She looked at Sophie. "Sophie… Luke is going to come with me," she notified the girl.

"Okay, Miss G!"

Nasira stared at her smiling son. "Let's go, baby." Her boy giggled in response.

Both mother and son left the living room to go to her bedroom. Once inside, Lucien ran to the footboard and proceeded to climb the wood. She walked over and helped him onto the mattress. The boy shrieked with joy as he tried to run on the bed. "You definitely are a Dauntless kid," she concluded. Lucien ignored her and continued to play.

Nasira stepped away from the footboard and had gone to her chest of drawers. She dug through a drawer and produced several items. To the soundtrack of Lucien's cheers and babbling, she stripped out of her clothes. As she slipped on her bathrobe, she noticed her son was quiet.

"Luke, what…?" She looked over at the bed. "…are you doing that is making…" Her sight landed on the toddler. "…so…?"

Lucien was now sitting on the mattress, cross-legged. He was intently focused on his right set of fingers. His plump bottom lip was adorably poked out, a sign of his mental concentration. His left set of fingernails were scratching at the skin that was encased around his right fingertips.

His mother was instantly put in a moment of time, which occurred a few months ago, before their friendship had fallen apart. It was on a night that didn't held any sense of significance. Eric was sitting at her counter and was waiting for dinner. During the process, she had turned to the counter to fetch a spoon and she came upon Eric in a vulnerable spot. He was gazing at his fingernails as his other set of fingers picked at the skin that was on his other hand's fingers. His pink, full bottom lip was poked out.

It was the same look that Lucien was giving his fingers.

"And this baby will have us there, too. They'll have us and we will tell them about their dad…"

Trigger's words floated through her mind as she stared at her son. Once again, she was struck by the effects that came from Eric's situation. Her brain rehashed snippets from the surveillance footage.

'No!' She slightly shook her head as to force the negativity from her mind. 'No! Don't go there. Not now.'

"Mama," chirped Lucien.

Sniffling, Nasira eyed her son. "Yes, my big boy?" she softly greeted. She traveled over to the foot of the bed and stood in front of the child.

"Ma… Ma…" Lucien crawled from the center to the bottom of the mattress. His fat and small hands clasped onto her forearms. With a husky grunt, he rose to his knees. "Mama…" His mother helped him to his feet. "…Mama. Mama. Mama…" His slate-hued eyes had gone soft as he gazed at her. "…Mama…"

Nasira's eyes followed their natural instincts and closed as his right hand came to her face. She grimaced and braced herself for the sharp impact of the impending slap.

"…Mama…"

A soft touch was applied to her wet cheek from a sweaty and hot hand. The touch was a surprise.

"…Mama…"

She opened her lids to thin slit and she peeked at the child.

"…Mama…"

She felt another pet at her left cheek. She was subjected to a few more of her son's clumsy, soft swats before she was struck with the intent behind her son's actions. 'Oh!' Her already-watered eyes became drenched with more tears. The sensation of warmth touched her spirit and it caused her to blush. Her hands drew her son into her embrace. "Thank you, Lukie-Bear," she told him before she kissed his forehead.

Lucien giggled in response. He continued to wipe away her tears.

"How are you feeling… Miss G.?" inquired Sophie. She took a sip of her drink.

Nasira allowed a peek pass the blockade that she built around her emotions. Her heart immediately began to race while her stomach trembled. She was immediately bombarded with several 'what-ifs' scenarios and possibilities.

She put the wall back up around her mind. She looked down at her meal. "I… really-really-really-really don't want to talk about that, right now," she confessed. Her mouth created a chuckle that displayed her sense of uneasiness.

"So… You want to talk about something else?"

"Yes, please," she sighed before taking a sip of water.

"Okay," Sophie's brown eyes stared down at the contents that were on her plate. "So… Would you… Would you mind if I ask you for some advice… About something?" she asked shyly.

"Sure," Nasira quickly answered, thankful for the temporary distraction. She took a bite from her portion of vegetables. "What's your situation?"

A light of excitement exploded in her eyes and a beaming smile encroached upon her face. "Well… Thank you!" She licked her bottom lip. "O-Okay…" She glanced down at her plate of food. "…I'll start at the beginning… About three weeks ago, I had gone to the Training Facility to ask about joining the P.D. On my way out of the precinct, I ended up…" She paused. Her chocolate-colored eyes scanned her meal. "I ended up meeting a… A guy," she revealed.

'Well-well-well,' Nasira's brain muttered. Her dark brown eyes met with the orbs that were staring.

"…He's a cop. His name is Lax. He's nice and he's really-really funny…" Her eyes were glazed over as if she just recalled a fond memory. A giggle escaped her. "…He's…" Her shoulders slowly rose into a shrug. "…cute!" She giggled again.

Nasira was feeling pure delight as she watched the girl became coy. She was genuinely happy for the teen. "I can tell that you like him… Very much."

Sophie chuckled. "Yes. Yes, I do." She sighed. "We've been out on a few dates within the past few weeks. He originally is from Amity, so he understands the feelings that I have as a transfer. Um…" Her fingernails scratched at her chin. "…He encourages me. He has told me that he thinks that I would be an excellent cop, too!" Her face suddenly altered from showing her excitement to becoming sad, within seconds.

'Wait… But… What's wrong?' She eyed the teen. "So… What's wrong?" queried Nasira, her voice was thick with concern. "If you like him and he likes you—

"I don't think…" Her face was marked with a grimace. A huff escaped her mouth. "I don't think—I mean, there's something about me… A part of me feels like this is all one big prank," she solemnly confessed. "I see this great guy and he is interested in me…" She softly shook her head. "…But a part of me believes that he is… Using me." Her tear-filled eyes stared at Nasira. "I keep thinking that he's going to pull the rug from beneath me."

The mother provided the girl with a sympathetic smile. "Do you feel this way because… Of your scars?" she queried.

Sophie glanced at her plate again. "Yes," she whispered. "I'm…" She hesitated. Her left fingertips gave the scar that was on her forehead a caress. "I know that I won't… Ever have a boyfriend or have men fight for my attention." She took a breath. "I know that I won't ever… The men, here… They claim that they want warrior-women, but they always chase after the Barbie Dolls that are barely dressed and gussied up."

'She does have a point.' Nasira quickly reflected about the men that indeed chased after certain Dauntless women. 'But it doesn't mean that this guy won't…' She smiled at her friend. "If you want my opinion, then I'm gonna say that you should trust this man. I don't think he is with you because he wants to humiliate you. Lemme tell you something…" She made an audible exhale as she stacked her hands on each other. She smiled. "…Dauntless men are not wasteful creatures. Sure, they are capable of acting like jerks and boneheads and everything. But they won't waste their time pursuing girls that they aren't attracted to. I think this guy—

"His name is Lax," explained Sophie.

"Lax. I don't think Lax wants to harm you, honey. I think he genuinely likes you and he finds you to be attractive."

"You think so?"

"Yes, I think so," Nasira told him before taking a sip of her drink.

"I hope so," grumbled Sophie.

"Trust me… He does like you, Soph." She listened to the caretaker hum her act of skepticism.

Silence managed to seep into the living room. The two female Dauntless members ate their pickings that were left on their plates. The calming sounds of the low-volume music from the stereo and the high-volume sounds of Lucien's snoring wafted through the atmosphere. Nasira kept her eyes busy during this time. They quietly surveyed features that were in the living room. She actively kept her attentive mind busy. She didn't want to think about Eric and everything that pertained to him.

"Are you going to work tomorrow?" Sophie asked, out of the blue.

Nasira glanced at her dinner guest. "Yeah…" She glanced at her plate. "I'm going to work…" Her fork lightly scraped the plate's surface. "…I can't stay home and hide. I gotta…" She sighed. "…continue on. Besides…" She eyed the teenager. "…all of the condolences will be aimed at Anissa anyway…" she mumbled. "…Along with every whisper and every bit of gossip." Her eyes' sight flickered to Sophie's face. Her jaw stopped in the midst of a chew. 'What?"

The expression of reluctance graced Sophie's face. Her eyes exposed a million and one possibilities while her lips barely spoken just one. The pair of brown eyes focused on the invisible, pink and dancing elephant that Nasira was sure was located behind her. Her sight caught the trembling bottom lips that belonged to the nanny.

"What… Sophie?" she squeaked as her throat felt like it was being squeezed.

"I," her voice squeaked. Her jaw snapped shut for a second before she made another attempt to speak. "I… I-I-I know that you said you didn't want to talk about… The incident. B-But, I heard that…" Sophie glanced at Nasira. "…she was involved."

"How?"

"Fix…" She glimpsed down at her plate. "…he was flirting with her…" She returned her gaze to Nasira. "…From what I heard from a couple of people… Eric just happened to enter the training room, when Fix was still talking to her. He had initiated the fight and… And you know what happened."

"—Anissa is intelligent… She's a warrior! She will fight, scratch and bite in order to survive! She—

'And she's a got-damned demon!' Nasira's lips snarled as a grunt escaped. She whipped off of the stool and snatched her used dinnerware from off of the counter. '… Yet, here you are, bending over backwards for her…'

"Miss G.?"

Sock-covered feet pounded the linoleum tiles as they traveled to the sink. '…You gave and gave and gave to that… Bitch! And you received nothing in return, Eric, except a pat on the fucking head and some bit of pussy!' Anger caused her to callously deposit her dishes into the sink. Sudsy water splashed onto the counter that was attached. 'She used you like you were some kind of pup…'

"Miss G., are you okay?"

'…pet and you're just…'

"Miss G., I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything to you. It just…"

'…allowing yourself…' Nasira turned away from the sink. Her tear-filled eyes stared at the teen. Her hands curled into shaking fists. "What's… wrong with me?" Her voice trembled. "What's wrong with… Me?!" she groaned.

"I-I-I-I-I… You're sad," concluded the caretaker with her brown eyes wide, in fright.

"No…" she declared with a head shake. "…I'm stupid and crazier than the Mad Hatter," she announced with a wry chuckle attached. She glanced at the floor. "Here I am: on the verge of a breakdown and it's all due to a man, who doesn't give two shits about me!" Tears were pushed out of their ducts as her eyes focused on Sophie. "I saw him yesterday. He was in his jail cell. He was asleep and he was sick... He's a weeper…"

An audible gasp shot out of the teen. "He's a weep—

"He's going through withdrawal now. When I saw him, he was covered in that kid's blood, in his own piss and vomit. He looked like he was on his way to dying. And you know what?" Her face frowned up. "All I wanted to do at that moment was to clean him up, take care of him and to tell him that everything was going to be alright." She dramatically tossed her hands up. "What-the-fuck is wrong with me?!" She shook her fists again. "He slammed me into a wall…" Her right hand clumsily and brusquely was aimed at the wall. "…for friggin' sake! And all I want to do right now is hold him... And make him understand that he is loved! And I won't ever hurt him! And this is what makes me… Hate myself right now! He's… Done stuff to me and has said stuff to me and…" She wearily sighed. Her tired eyes focused on Sophie. "…I still love him." She chuckled. "How is that even possible?! And…" She shook her head. "…I can't even blame my kids for this one! I can honestly say… I would still be in this predicament, if I didn't have Luke or…" Her hands jiggled her stomach's hard lump. "…this baby!" She resumed pacing. "And I am sooo mad at him! I am mad at him for not seeing that bitch as the evil, little cunt that she is! I am mad at him for not using that little bit of sense that those blue-bougie-bastards had implanted in him!" Nasira continued to pace in front of the sink and silently curse herself.

"I think…"

Nasira stopped pacing and then she glared at Sophie.

"…I think we cannot…" Sophie paused and gathered her thoughts. "I think we can control our choices in whether or not we should enter relationships. But I don't think…We can control our love for someone, even when that person does something wrong to us. We can't turn our love for one person off, like it's a light switch. I think it stays with us for a while, at least." The teen smiled a little. "You shouldn't beat yourself up, Miss G. He has your heart right now. But its temporary."

The mother just stared at the teen for close to a minute before announcing, "I just wish that I didn't love him."

"It takes time, Miss G."

"I wish it was just…" Nasira's voice trailed off.

"I know."

After Nasira's emotional release in the kitchen, and after Sophie's words of comfort, the two women decided to go on with the evening's routine tasks. Sophie gathered up a sleeping Lucien from his high chair and prepared him for bed. Meanwhile, Nasira cleaned the living room and the kitchen. As she cleaned, she allowed her mind to entertain her spirit with fantasies of domestic life. Her spirit glowed with happiness. The burdens from the day were banished for the moment.

Sophie left the apartment, an hour later. Yet not before she gave her employer a tight embrace, along with the promise that she would visit on the next day. Nasira was warmed by the caretaker's act of affection.

Once alone, she noticed the loneliness and the deafening silence that was permeating through the apartment. Being a mother to an active toddler, this was an occurrence that she usually looked forward for. Now, it was an unsettling sensation. Her eyes did a quick inventory of the kitchen and the living room, checking for any potential hazards. Once she realized that everything was in order, she decided to get ready for bed. She shut off the lights in the living room and then traveled to the master bedroom, to prepare.

Forty-eight minutes and one shower later, Nasira dressed herself in a frumpy shirt. She stepped out of the steamy bathroom and entered the hallway. The colorful lights that spilled out of the bedroom that was directly across, caught her attention. She made the trek into Lucien's nursery. She was blessed with the steady sounds of the toddler's soft snoring. They floated from his crib and into the air, sprinkling down on her.

"Hey baby boy," she whimpered as she approached the crib's guard rail. Once there, she peered down at her sleeping son. "How's my baby boy doing?" she rhetorically asked. After listening to his snores for a minute, she spoke up again. "I'm so… So… I'm so-so-so-so sorry, Luke," she whispered.

As she spoke and gazed at her son, her brain reflected. There was a recall of made-up memories that were created as she swept the living room's floor, close to three hours ago. Her brain was making her spirit glow with bittersweet happiness. Snapshots of Eric carrying Lucien in the air as the toddler imagined that he was in airplane, were splayed out in her mind. The scenario of blue eyes watching her as she sat in Luke's rocking chair and allowed their newborn to nurse off of her breasts, in a dimly-lit bedroom. There was the recollection about a make-believed occurrence of having strength wrapped around her widened waist and warm, sweet-smelling breath fanning her face. Darkness from the sky covered her vision while the songs from both the cicadas and the crickets lulled the both of them. His hands clasped onto her spherical-shaped stomach. She recalled the strong, emotional security that was conjured during this moment.

"I'm sorry," she softly cried to the boy. "I'm sorry that you won't have him anymore. And I know…" Her left hand wiped at her cheeks. "…I know…" Her fingers dried the tip of her nose. "…that you're gonna find this to be so… Unfair, when you become older. And you have every right to be angry, baby. I'm sorry that your father didn't try hard enough for you… Not for me…" She shook her head. "…But, for you."

A hand slowly descended into the crib and fingers found their way into the blanket of soft brown coils. Her fingernails lightly scratched at his scalp and sifted through his locks. Her eyes took in the sight of the sleeping face of her son.

"I'm sorry, baby boy."