The initiates and I have the next week off, and I see them everywhere. In the Pit, in the commissary, in the tattoo shop, running up and down the stairs. I spend the majority of that week in the nursery with Fanny or running errands for her with Adele propped on my hip; Eric and I don't seek each other out. I can't decide if it's because he knows I'm still angry with him, or if he's just too busy, or if ….. I don't know what else. I know it makes me sound a little too dependent, but it's lonely without him. I've gone from seeing him all over, in his bed, in the commissary, to seeing him in distant passing, he exits as I enter and vice versa. It's set my routine on an axis I'm not used to.

It's Friday afternoon when Fanny finally says,

"So you and Eric are fighting, huh?"

"So?" I grunt, holding Adele steady on her feet as she takes a few guided steps.

"What about?"

I look up at her and try to decide if she actually wants to know, or if she's just being nosey.

"Don't look at me like that," she says. "You've been pissed off and grumpy all week, and no one ever sees you two together anymore."

We're quiet for a long time.

"He called the Abnegation initiate a 'Stiff', said there was no way she could have won her final fight because of it."

"He wasn't talking about you, though?"

"No, but he could have been. She beat the other girl, fair and square, and there's no reason to dispute that, especially by claiming it's because she's not from Dauntless. I'm not from Dauntless, he's not from Dauntless, Four's not from Dauntless. That hasn't mattered at all before, so why does it matter now?"

"Could it be the news that Erudite keeps releasing?"

"What do Erudite reports have to do with anything?"

"You haven't been reading them, have you?"

I shrug.

"Erudite is dragging Abnegation through the mud, claiming that the food shortages are a result of Abnegation keeping it for themselves."

"That's not how that works," I grumble.

"But their main focus has been Marcus Eaton, and his two children," she says, and I freeze, terror creeping up my spine, "and Andrew Prior, now that his two children have left as well. Apparently there has been some evidence that the two Eaton children left because their father was beating them, and now the Prior children have left for the same reason."

I don't look at Fanny, I can't, but I'm pretty sure she can discern the truthfulness of those reports just by watching me. I can't speak for the Priors, and I won't speak for Tobias and me, but there's always been something unsettling about the way Erudite puts out news, consequences be damned, and now that I'm on the wrong side of it, and it's more than just unsettling: it's horrifying. There isn't a bone in my body that wanted that knowledge shared between people, never mine broadcast to all five factions. If people believe it, and there will be some that do, they'll never look at me or Tobias the same again; we'll be pitied and coddled and excused and that is not how I want to live.

"I can't speak for the Prior family," I say quietly, hoping that Fanny will drop the subject.

"But you can speak for the Eatons."

I don't have an answer for her.

I spend Saturday collecting every report Erudite has put out about Abnegation in the last six months. The reports about Marcus are recent, released in the last ten weeks or so, and the ones concerning Andrew Prior are even more recent than that. Every medical exam Tobias and I have ever undergone is now available for public review, though they've been labeled 'Eaton Child One' and 'Eaton Child Two'. Additional exams labeled 'Prior Child One' and 'Prior Child Two' are also available for viewing; they do not show the same "clumsiness" as Tobias's and mine.

It's somewhat a relief, because I would never wish a parent like Marcus on anyone in the world, but at the same time, I feel like it singles my brother and me out, like it happened for a reason, or because we were weak. It is not a weak person that can put up with Marcus for years on end and not break. But then…

Then there's the one report that I never wanted to see again. It's four years old, nothing too long or obviously interesting to look at, but it had been right after our mother had died, and that was when Marcus had been at his most foul. I had three broken ribs and a fractured pelvis, which caused some internal bleeding that had to be cleaned up by a surgeon in Erudite. Marcus told them that I tripped down the stairs in our home; I didn't.

Later that night, Az and Harper find me in my room, huddled under the covers with the worn copy of my mother's book. Neither of them says anything, but I can tell they've read the reports just by the look on their faces. They don't ask about it, don't make any kind of comment or offer any condolences; they climb into my be with me, Harper against my back and Az at my front, and they just let me be. If I cry, well, they don't mention it.

Monday morning I report to training just like always. I haven't seen my brother, but when I ask, neither has anyone else. I'm shuffling around my locker looking for the rag I use to clean excess gun oil off both my hands and by gun when two arms wrap around me from behind. I have to twist back and catch a glimpse of bright blonde hair before I know it's Tank. I sigh, but keep digging, and eventually come up with a rag that, while not the one I was using, will do the job just fine. When I'm done cleaning my hands, and she still hasn't let go, I say,

"You have to let me go in order for us to go on patrol."

"I'm not going on patrol," she says.

"What?" I ask, jerking around.

"I told Henley," she says glumly. "He took me off rotation."

"You told Tori and me before you told the father of your child that you were pregnant with his child?" I all but scream.

"Would you shut up?" she says. "I didn't know what he was going to say, and I needed to know it was a good thing before I told him."

"Tank," I laugh, "Henley loves you. Why would he be upset that you're pregnant?"

She shrugs.

"It's not exactly something that we planned on," she says. "I didn't want it to ruin what we've got."

"Tank," I say seriously, "Isabell," she wrinkles her nose at the use of her real name, "is this baby something you really want? Babies are wonderful, you know I love them, but they're also a lot of work, and just because you might think that this is something that Henley wants, doesn't mean you need to do something you're uncomfortable with. If you don't want a baby now, you guys can always try again later."

"We," she pauses, "we talked about it. A lot. And before we, you know, knew I was pregnant, we didn't think we were ready, but now that it's happening, and we've got the choice to keep it or not… I do. I really, really want this baby."

That night, Az isn't in our room when I open the door, but Eric is.

"Get out," I say, dropping my uniform jacket on the chair in the corner.

"Olivia," he says, "we need to talk."

"Get out."

"And I need to apologize."

I stand my ground, arms crossed over my chest; he can say his piece, or he can do as I demanded and leave.

"Close the door?" he requests.

"I don't feel like being behind closed doors with you right now."

"Olivia," he sighs.

"What, Eric? What could be so important that it couldn't wait until I cooled off a little?"

"I didn't – "

"Don't tell me what you didn't do, Eric. You said it to my face! You know I hate that word and everything Erudite wants it to stand for. And it's bullshit! Just because she came from Abnegation doesn't mean she's any less worthy to be here! Not everyone in Dauntless was born here, but this is where we belong; hell, you weren't born here, and you never let that stop you! So what is so important – "

"You," he says, grabbing me by the shoulders; his hands are firm, but he isn't hurting me. "You are that important, but you have to listen to me!" His voice drops down to barely a whisper, "There's something going on that I can't explain, not yet, not without putting you in danger, and I can't do that. I need you to stay away from me for a few more days; I need everyone to believe you're still mad at me."

"I am still mad at you!" I whisper furiously.

"And I can live with that so long as you aren't in the middle of this!"

"You haven't even told me what this is!"

"I know, and I can't, but I promise I will, I promise."

"Eric!"

He kisses me on the mouth, and I think it's the first time I've tasted desperation.

"Don't tell anybody about this. Not Az, not Tank, not your brother."

"I don't even know what the hell is going on!"

"I love you," he says, almost like he's pleading for me to believe him, and then he's gone.

The next Saturday morning, I'm out of bed much earlier than is usual for me, but that's what happens when I can't sleep. Tobias has been especially busy with the initiates this week, working out opponents and counting points for ranks. I haven't seen Eric at all.

Az is awake by the time I come back from the bathroom, throwing on last night's clothes in order to join me in the commissary for breakfast. She skips the line, heading straight for the coffee and the empty seat by Harper, while I collect a tray and actual food. I sit down in the seat across from Az in just enough time to hear Harper ask,

"Did you guys hear what happened last night? One of the initiates lost an eye!"

"What?" I ask.

"Yeah! It was one of the transfers; someone snuck up on him while he was sleeping and jabbed him in the eye with a butter knife they must have smuggled out of here."

"While he was sleeping?" Az asks skeptically. "Not exactly someone we want hanging around. They catch who did it?"

"Not that I know of," Harper says.

"It was Edward," Tobias says, dropping into the seat next to mine. He looks pretty disgusted with the situation.

"Edward was the one that stabbed another initiate?" Harper asks.

"Edward was the one that lost the eye," Tobias says.

"How is he?" I ask.

"He'll live," Tobias says, "but if we find out who did this, they probably won't."

"Was it another initiate, do you think?"

"Probably," he says grimly. "And I think I know which one too."

Saturday night, Tobias tells me that the initiate that lost the eye, Edward, and his girlfriend, Myra, both quit. A part of me understands, you come to a place where you're supposed to be able to make a new home and you have your eye gouged out in the middle of the night by someone that's been sleeping in the same room as you for a month, and you might question whether or not you actually want to be here, or if living factionless might actually be safer. The girlfriend…. Her, I also understand, to a point anyway. They came here together, they were supposed to start a new life here, maybe be together for a while longer, and she loves him, or she at least thinks she does, which can be just as powerful as actually loving someone, but… something about the whole situation just seems off. If it really was one of the other initiates, then they now have two less transfers to compete with.

"Who do you think it was?"

"Peter," Tobias says without hesitating.

"Why?"

"He's a malicious little bastard with a jealousy streak a mile wide. Edward ranked first, knocked Peter to second. That didn't sit well with Peter so he did something about it."

"You got any proof?"

"Nope."

"Well, shit."

Tank and I spend Sunday in hers and Henley's apartment going over anything she could possibly know about having a baby. She almost freaks out several times, body going still and breathy, before forcing herself to take a deep breath and at least act like she was okay. Henley brings us lunch, hamburgers for them, fruit salad and banana pudding for me, before going back to the shift he picked up in the armory.

"So when a man and a woman decide that they like each other's bodies," I say jokingly once he's gone.

Tank smacks me with a pillow. "Isn't that supposed to be something about when a mommy and a daddy love each other very much…?"

"Love has got shit all to do with it," I laugh. "It doesn't even have to be intentional. I mean, all you really need is a guy's dangly bits and the right place to put them."

Monday morning, I'm leaning on the side of the Bus, waiting for the rest of 209 to get their asses in gear and exit the locker room. It's a pretty nice day, summer rapidly cooling into fall, skies clear, no sign of any kind of bad weather to come. Which is good for me because Henley has asked me to take Tank's position on the ground. It's a different kind of tired, spending all day on your feet instead of riding in a bus, but it isn't anything I wasn't prepared for, at least not yet. Henley has also been gracious enough to let Harold walk with us from time to time, so long as he doesn't distract us, and I enjoy the extra visiting time. He's still cautious about Eric, and the longer I spend with Dauntless the more I understand what uncontrolled fearlessness can breed, but he also understands that I have to make my own decisions, and I love him for it.

"You guys are taking a hell of a long time," I call when the others finally start trickling out of the locker room.

"New orders," Henley calls back. "We've been assigned an irregular patrol."

"A new patrol?" I ask. "How does that happen?"

"It doesn't," he says darkly.

"What's going on, Henley?"

"Gather round," he tells everyone.

The rest of 209 huddles in and Henley talks in soft tones so no one around can hear us.

"We've been assigned to pick up a shipment of new equipment from Erudite. Don't know what it is, don't know what it's for, don't know if it's dangerous."

"I don't like it," Bandit says automatically.

"I don't either, but we don't have much choice. Erudite is expecting us in an hour. After we get the shipment back, we're to resume regular patrol. And we're not to tell anyone."

"Henley," I say; my gut twists into a knot that I don't know how to untangle. "Dauntless doesn't keep secrets. It's not how we live."

"I know, Starshine, I don't like it any more than you do. It makes my skin crawl, but this is what we signed on for."

"No," I say quietly, "it's not."

Erudite loads the crates onto the Bus without saying a word to us, and we don't talk to them. The Erudite supervising hands us an envelope right before we leave that's addressed to Max, and Henley tucks it into his vest for safe keeping. The crates are big and heavy, solidly built and nailed shut; there's no way for us to peek inside. We've been instructed not to tell anyone what we're doing, but the first thing I want to do is run to my brother. But what would I say? We were given orders to pick up a shipment we aren't supposed to talk about? He'd ask me why I was talking about it.

It takes us an hour to get back to the Dauntless compound, Slightly driving slow enough that there's no risk of us slinging the crates around and damaging the contents. Max is there to greet us when we arrive, and Henley wastes no time handing over the envelope with his name on it. We're instructed to unload the crates and store them in a warehouse I didn't know was in use until then, and then we're willfully reminded that this isn't something we're meant to talk about.

We make four more deliveries that week.

On the next Tuesday, I've lost enough sleep over our irregular patrols to convince myself to talk to Tobias. I get up earlier than I normally would on my week off; I want to catch him in private, in his own apartment. I dress quickly without turning on the lights, and lace my boot up in the hallway. Tobias's rooms are on the same hallways as Eric's, about a ten minute walk, and he gave me a key months ago. No one is really awake at this hour in the morning, but I know it won't be long before the initiates have to be up for training.

I wait for several moments in the hall, waiting for some sign that someone else it up, but when it doesn't come, I'm not any more relaxed. I slide the key into the lock and slip in without fully opening the door, and when I do, I have to choke on the noise that threatens to tear its way out of my mouth.

"Hello, Olivia," my brother says flatly. "So nice of you to knock."

The small, mousy Abnegation initiate that Eric was so upset over is sitting next to my brother on his bed. They are both, thankfully, clothed. Tobias looks like this is the worst thing that could have happened to him, ever, and the initiate doesn't even seem to be breathing.

"Um."

"Olivia, this is Tris; she's an initiate. Tris, this is my sister, Olivia. You two can bond over the fact that you both almost got thrown over the chasm."

The suspicious deliveries leave my mind immediately, and my brain hooks itself into that sentence.

"When?"

"Last night," he says.

"Who?"

"I don't know yet."

"Do you?" I ask Tris.

She shakes her head at me.

I take a deep breath. What kind of scum does Dauntless keep dragging in. I push it to the back of mind for the moment; I came here for a reason.

"We need to talk," I say.

"Yeah," Tobias says. "We do."

Author's Note:

Hey guys. I've gotten a lot of reviews lately that are asking about explanations about the timeline. This is a "sequel" to "stand at the abyss, you fall to your knees", but it is an Alternate Timeline sequel. This is how things would have gone if I had continued into the Divergent timeline, instead of just doing an origin story. I guess the best way to explain it is to pretend that Olivia didn't die, because she didn't in this reality. There was no execution of the factionless, there was no finding Olivia's body. She and Eric continued on with their relationship, and this story picks up the night before Tris's initiation groups comes to the Dauntless compound.

I hope that clears up any misgivings,

Love you guys!