AN: Bet you didn't think I'd be back so soon. Here I am, ha.

Ive read this chapter so many times, I think I'm starting to hate it. Please forgive me if I miss a typo or two. My eyes are suffering lol.


"Welcome," Johanna says as Susan Black shyly sits at the conference table. The young woman—the same age as Tris—is the recently appointed Abnegation representative as Marcus was pressured to step down as figurehead of their faction. His suppression from the New Council was enough to make many members of the faction uneasy under his leadership—the rumors of his abusive nature being enough to push the decision forward. This is her first meeting as a member of the New Council of Representatives and she's unsure how this will play out.

Tris gives her an easy smile, feeling connected to her, anchored by the flood of memories from their childhood. They weren't necessarily close—no one is close friends in Abnegation, it's just the way they're raised. It's now, when life has gone to hell and back in a handbasket, that Tris remembers them as friends.

"Thank you," Susan bows her head, and her confidence wavers, breath shaky. She doesn't want to say the wrong thing, or screw up a chance at making her faction's voice heard. "I'm glad to be here representing Abnegation."

They go around the circle making their introductions, as if she hasn't seen their faces repeatedly, every week a new article with speculations of their meetings sent out.

"Congratulations are in order," Tori says, "there haven't been any Abnegations leaders your age. You should be proud." She's much nicer this week than she has been.

Susan takes in the older woman, finding her comments to be from a good place—even if they don't illicit feelings of confidence, they're still nice. "I didn't have much of a choice in the matter, but thank you."

Tori's naturally slanted eyes narrow marginally, as if suddenly she's comparing Susan's words to Tris' and she looks between them.

Tris frowns, seeing the conflict cross Susan's face. She doesn't want to be here, but she's here and she's being a better sport than Tris was in the beginning—even now. But her tight-lipped smile is awfully awkward. Tris glances at Tori, silently telling her to back off. She watched the encounter and it didn't feel very friendly, more like a test. And it's too late for Susan to get a positive grade from the former tattoo artist.

"No one has being nominated by Erudite?" Susan asks, wondering with a slight crease in her normally flat brows. She hasn't encountered a representative in blue yet, and there's been radio silence from Erudite. The people sticking with their faction have started to pick themselves up and go to work again as a sign of good faith, she assumes. But nothing political is being discussed about them.

"They're still getting over the shame left by their last representative," Tori speaks, her expression unreservedly agitated. She scratches her cheek. "Serves them right."

"We can't ignore them forever," Four says, arms folded. "I'd rather know what's going on than nothing at all."

Tris agrees, but keeps quiet. There's not much to be said so why say it?

"Can we trust them?" Evelyn asks, her tone firm. "I can't say that the past year has looked good for them."

"It's not right, blaming the entire faction for the actions of their administration." Johanna buts in calmly. Her tone always suggests she's being mindful, not wanting to ruffle any feathers. Tris can appreciate that she wants to keep the peace—true to her nature—though it's been shown that she can be forceful when needed.

"Then who will be held responsible if not them?" Evelyn asks hotly. Her face shows her anger, her mouth tensed and her eyes ablaze with her frustrations.

"Blame is a slippery slope," Johanna argues and Evelyn laughs at her. Johanna doesn't seem bothered by it. She only adjusts her hold on her faded orange shawl and smiles.

Susan looks to Tris, the only person who hasn't made their voice heard. She knows Tris is having a hard time finding her footing, the rumors have been circulating that Tris can't settle into her role in the public eye.

"You want to try the whole Erudite population, Evelyn?" Jack asks. His voice is cool, and the table wonders if he's being serious. Jack is always being serious. "It's unrealistic and a waste of our time to keep harboring this anger towards them."

"It wasn't your people he attacked," Tori argues. "You weren't the faction used as pawns to further a secret agenda. And you lost nothing because it wasn't you caught in the crosshairs."

Tris is exhausted by the anger in this room, all of it always bubbling under the surface. But she's sat on Caleb's words and she knows she can't dig her heels in forever. She's not completely convinced of where she stands on being a leader but it's not as bad as she's been thinking about it.

She can't just run away, it's not even as if she's tried. And part of her knows she's being so stubborn because she's afraid of what all she will have to face once she accepts her new role. She's been forced to make so many big decisions in her short time as a Dauntless allegiant, and she's fought so hard to be accepted, to make it into the ranks. And she's been fighting it now? Why?

"Tris," Jack calls to her, "You're being very quiet today."

Tris sighs heavily, shrugging. "Just listening."

"You don't want to be here." He says, and the room stills. Something in her flares angrily at the call-out.

Tori looks at her, eyes boring into hers, and Tris has the sneaking suspicion that she's let something slip in the last few days to suggest Tris is unwelcome of the position.

"I'm not sure where I stand on this particular situation, is all," Tris says, again being the bigger person when faced with adversity. "On one hand, we can't be sure there's no one in the faction who still has their prejudices. But on the other, if we point the finger, the only thing we'll do, is alienate those who just want to move on. And that can lead to more problems than we can handle right now, all factions included."

"We have to show that we won't stand for something like that again," Tori says.

"And when all Jeanine's supporters were either killed or locked up, what were we doing then?" Tris argues, her voice stronger than it's been. "You're on a witch hunt. And that only makes things worse. People are still mourning the loss of loved ones."

Tori doesn't reply, just sits there with her arms crossed. This feels like a conversation the three Dauntless leaders should have had handled a while back. After all, Tori isn't necessarily wrong, they can't stand in the face of uncertainty while being scared. It just won't work. But accusations seem to last. Though, if they're always blaming someone, it will lose weight in the long run.

"We're all just waiting for the other shoe to drop," Four offers, "And maybe there isn't another shoe."

Tris glances at him, in disbelief that he almost—kind of agreed with her. It's a miracle.

"We should be focused on things that we actually see happening," he says, looking to his mother as she waits expectantly. "There's been an outbreak of some illness in the factionless sector."

"What?" Johanna leans forward in her seat in concern.

"It's been happening in the last few weeks," Evelyn says bitterly. "While we've been wasting meetings, my people have been losing time."

"You've known this for weeks, and you've sat on it?" Tris is again in disbelief, thinking that it was new. Evelyn knew. The woman in question, and Four, stare at her. "You've discussed this at length I see…"

"And without me as well," Tori comments.

"What do you want us to do?" Susan asks genuinely, speaking for the first time in several minutes. "I'm sorry no one from Abnegation has been—"

Evelyn cuts her off with a particularly rude glare. "It's been thought to be an attack on our numbers," she says.

"You're suggesting you're under attack?" Jack asks. He's usually asking questions rather than answering them. It's easy for him to control conversation, always saying something worth a reaction rather than returning one. "What would be the purpose of that?"

"Eliminating a perceived threat."

Tori chuckles and Evelyn glances at her but says nothing.

"I have a plan." Tris rushes out, seeing that the situation will clearly begin to escalate. And it won't be good for anyone if they all leave angry.


The rest of the meeting wasn't awful. It was actually more productive than Tris thought it could end up being. She got through it without getting angrier and they actually broached the topic of splitting resources properly. And every leader is open to the idea of the factionless at least visiting their factions of birth. Whether the notion makes it past being such, they'll hold out on that.

Jack offered a comment that caught Evelyn off guard—Truth serum should be used to determine intent because whether she wants to admit it or not, Evelyn knows there's an unverifiable amount of anger among the factionless. She poked at it at least.

Evelyn of course, is not pleased with the prospect of introducing the idea to her faction. But it's something she does have to discuss, as representatives will be descending upon their part of the city to discuss each individual factions conditions. After all, she's the one who forced the issue, as of course, she promised. Tris herself isn't sure that they'll cooperate with the rules, nor is she over Evelyn keeping secrets. But she keeps her judgment to herself.

Johanna talked food reserves, and what they're looking at with the coming months—winter is coming soon. They have enough put away, and will be skimming more on the crops to add to it. The underlying sadness that bubbled to the surface is a reminder of the lives lost in the war. They're well ahead now because of it. And all their stomachs dropped. Factions have just started getting back to routine.

And because Tris proposed the plan, she will be responsible for getting doctors to help the factionless in need of medical attention. And for that, she knows she'll rely heavily on Caleb for his help. Four didn't seem pleased at the thought, but accepts.

It's long been decided that life for those in the City should move on. The general consensus of the people: Jeanine Matthews had corrupted the very system she so obsessively wanted to protect. The truth serum had nearly been abused to sus out which of the figureheads in the faction held the same preconceptions as Jeanine. All of them punished in ways Tris doesn't want to think about.

One of the big changes is the near-abandonment of the Erudite faction. Those living there, are basically left to fend for themselves and that needs to be fixed before the council ends up with a bigger problem on their hands. Morale is low but from the gossip mongers to their ears, Erudite is just trying to continue on as if Jeanine never existed.

Under Susan's young reign as a leader, Abnegation will continue their feeding of the homeless as well as being the first to agree to the new integrations and community clean up. She has decided that being vocal about their need for activism is the only way they can avoid catastrophe like this again. Their secrecy in the past got them into their conflict with Erudite. It will take some time getting used to being in control—even if she still could do without—but she takes her new role seriously.

Susan, with her blonde hair and her grey eyes, finds relief in Tris's face as they walk back to Abnegation together. Tris enjoys the familiarity of it, while Susan enjoys the company.

"I'd say that went well, only I don't know how the others have gone," Susan offers, her hands folded and her eyes trained straight ahead as they get closer to the front of the faction. "I won't ask you about it. I'm glad I can offer the Abnegation some news—we can continue to do our part getting back to normal."

"How is the faction fairing? I know it's not going to be easy getting that security back." Tris suddenly feels very uncomfortable, knowing just how intimately she knows what happened here.

"We don't discuss it, it's sad and no one wants to be the reminder of it." Susan answers timidly, still nervously wringing her hands. There's a silence then, and Tris knows she doesn't have to tell Susan how unhealthy that is. "There's been a few counselors from Amity by, they talk to families in the quiet of their homes… it works."

Tris feels relieved by that.

She considers how different Susan looks now. Her face is thinner and she's taller with age. She stands an inch shorter than Tris, her Abnegation clothing unable to hide how her figure has changed. They're both no longer children. And of course, they'd seen more than anyone should. Though now, Tris definitely can't understand how anyone ever thought they looked alike.

"Have you seen Robert?" Tris wonders, changing the subject.

"Not since I've returned from Amity." Susan responds with a happier smile. Her older brother is a big part of the reason young people in the faction got behind her. He started the conversation of getting them to take control of how they would be led. It was not lost on anyone that they were forced to make decisions at such young ages, but have to listen to their elders with everything else. She's unsure why Robert thought she would make a good leader but she's not going to complain, as it's rude. She stops, looking at Tris. "Have you seen him?"

Tris laughs, knowing the history the two families have between one another. She was so sure she'd be marrying Robert when they were younger, and oh how that changed. "I haven't. Not since the war. He's a hard man to get in contact with."

"Yeah," Susan nods, "Took days for him to realize I was there in Amity when Abnegation was first attacked." They're quiet for few paces, walking side by side. "I'm really glad you made it Tris," Susan says softly. She hesitates, but hugs the older-by-months Dauntless faithful.

Tris returns the hug strongly, almost burying herself in the embrace, "Thank you." When they pull apart, she smiles brightly. She doesn't say that she hasn't always been glad as well, but she knows Susan will take that with her. And despite everything, Tris knows none of them need the negativity of that kind of thought. So she'll spare the young woman. "If you need anything, you call me, okay?"

"I will," Susan nods, "I will see you down in factionless territory on Thursday?"

Tris hums as they stand there in front of the Abnegation entrance. "Bright and early?"

"You remembered." Susan smiles.

"Spent a lot of time helping my mother," Tris replies, the dull ache of missing both her parents seeps into her words. "Well, go on. Get out of here," she smiles through it. She holds up a hand in a dull wave before Susan turns away and disappears into the grey community.

Tris makes her way back toward the tracks, knowing she'll have to catch a train. She could walk, but that would make it quite a trek between the factions, even if she doesn't mind the time to think.

It's hard to wrap her head around the events that led her here. Being divergent makes her different, and a target. And she's unsure that the target is gone, but everyone is so focused on rebounding that the discussion hasn't been opened as more than they're different. The Trials were exhausting but they were enough to put a lot of minds at ease. There's a general curiosity pointed at those who are deemed different, but there hasn't been much animosity.

They're all victims; tied together by the same common thread for the time being.

Tris hasn't always been okay with keeping the topic out of discussions, wanting to believe total transparency is the answer to peace between the factions. But in the last few days, she's realized that having all her ducks in a row instead is more important. The public's lives were saved by more than a handful of Divergents, but it's unclear how they'll react to hearing it. Maybe she's a hypocrite but she prefers cleaning up the current mess than adding to it.

She thinks of what Tori said, trying to find a reason to keep beating the proverbial 'dead horse' that is The War and huffs. There's been radio silence in terms of the topic of one last stand of retaliation, so why act as if an attack is for sure coming? There's preparation and then there's paranoia. And Dauntless is tasked with being prepared to fight, not for looking for one. Brutality is a trait she doesn't want to revisit. There should be a thread of basic human decency. Instilling fear with the constant threat of attack will only make things more tense. Tris believes both Four and Tori know that.

The walk to the train isn't long and she easily jumps, heading downtown. She sits near the door, her back to the wall, puts her head back and closes her eyes. Thinking of the council and how it felt productive but left them with more things to be answered, leaves her slightly agitated.

How they'll move forward the next year until a choosing time will come again, she's uncertain. They've talked of skipping it, generally passing it off as unimportant in the grand scheme. But it's clear to her that the factions want to latch on to some normalcy. And in the coming months, someone will have to step up as an Erudite representative.

Completely throwing out their system of life feels like Jeanine wins, somehow. Suggesting that their system is broken by just accepting there will be people who end up with more than one result on their aptitude test, is ridiculous. They've always existed. And despite that, the city has continued on. And they will step forward even now. But Tris fears that if they just continue without any sort of change, they'll be right back here in the end. Letting prejudice fester will be their undoing.

It will be cold soon, and if memory serves, most Factions become very closed off for the three months of snow and sludge. They've worked out the times each faction will visit Amity's warehouses for the winter months, Tris is actually impressed they made the decisions smoothly. But that's not cause for worry. What worries her most is the growing feeling of being trapped on the path leading directly to dependent choosing season.

Dauntless will continue to be responsible for guarding the fence—now more than ever, it's a necessity. If there is life out there, and if they've been watching, the City is vulnerable to attack.

The ride down to her stop keeps Tris in her thoughts until it's time for her to jump. It's dangerous and gets her heart pumping as she narrowly misses another train coming in her direction—she jumps onto the dilapidated building forever burned into her memory. Turning, she watches the train circle back like she had the first time she jumped. She and Christina couldn't help their laughs then.

She runs to the end and hurls herself off the edge, twirling in the air so she'll land on her back. Her arms outstretched, she lands and bounces into the air. A circle of Dauntless greet her with respectful hellos, pull down the net she's landed on to help her up, and then keep up with their conversations.

She's still known as Six, along with Four, they are the only two people with less than 10 fears. She smiles and thinks of Eric and how she would tease him right now. Him and his 12 fears. When she first came to the warrior faction, she would have never found herself teasing the Dauntless leader. With a sigh, she heads towards the pire thinking of him, knowing that right now he's being all but force fed shitty prison food.

She feels so bad for him. It's a thought she's no longer questioning. She feels forever indebted to the sacrifices he made for the chance that she may keep her life. She hated him during her year in the faction, under his rule as one of the faction leaders. It's only remedied by the fact that he only ever shows the part of himself that he wants seen. He keep everyone away. Even now he tries to push her away.

"You look happy," Uriah says, joining her from around the corner. They head deeper into the compound, down the dark jagged halls towards where full fledged faction members find their apartments. He and Tris have grown close, before they even knew they were hiding the same secret. "Today went that good, huh?"

"I guess," Tris shrugs, not correcting his grammar or missing a step. "You'll see when it's announced."

He groans, letting her pass as they reach a narrower hallway, a pair of other Dauntless walking by them without much thought than to give her a nod. She understands why the power can get to anyone's head. She's just a girl from Abnegation, and everywhere she goes, they notice her. Mostly she hates it. Sometimes she finds herself squaring her shoulders and returning the nod.

Uriah chuckles, "What's the point of this friendship if I can't even get the details before everyone else?" He's joking of course, never one to miss the opportunity for a well placed joke.

She laughs at that, making him join. "I feel used, Pedrad." He shrugs and she shoves him. "Where's Zeke?"

"Probably checking in on Shauna," Uriah shrugs, wanting to shift conversation from his brother and his girlfriend. Something akin to sadness settles in his chest as he thinks of Shauna, knowing her wheelchair has relegated her to a job in surveillance and the constant use of the elevators. Some of the older members have their judgements, but it's leadership that allows Shauna to stay. And if Dauntless are one thing, they are loyal and keep their comments to themselves.

(There's a large, shared feeling of embarrassment between the members who were used to further Jeanine's agenda. Being unaware, they still killed innocent people, and that thought is hard to shake.)

"I'll have to catch up with them," Tris says. Her friends haven't seen her in person in weeks probably. Christina keeps herself busy in the tattoo shop, practicing her craft. But she stops in on Tris whenever she feels the need.

"Yeah seriously," he says as they reach the winding stairs bringing them levels above the pit floor. "Where have you been? I haven't seen you in days."

"Around," she says, smirking when his expression flattens. "There's a lot going on right now Uri, I'm sorry."

He bumps her shoulder, accepting the apology with a smile. The pair of 18 year olds have been through a lot in the last 2 years and they've forged an understanding between them both, being ranked 1 and 2 of their class. He chose to be an initiate trainer, the both of them training the Dauntless-born instead of the transfers. It's been a year since their last class became full fledged members. Neither needs to be reminded of what happened since then. He's going stir crazy trying to find something to do. He tries not to dwell on the things he can't control. His brother is more of the control freak—and even that is mild.

"The fence is uninteresting," Uriah offers a change of subject as they walk, "I'm trying to get transferred to patrolling the factionless sectors."

"What for?" She asks, "The tension wondering if someone is going to break through the fence, not enough excitement for you?"

"There's no one out there." Uriah shrugs, not going to let her ruin his hopeful mood with her usual dryness. "And Amity doesn't need anymore guards in the fields so it's factionless for me."

Tris nods slowly, both of them walking closer and closer to the tower of apartments. She sighs, relenting because she knows that he needs this, and she doesn't need to be the one to crush his hope of finding some sort of fulfillment, "Send me the request and I don't see why I would have to say no."

Uriah simply nods—knowing Tris doesn't go out of her way to utilize the power that comes with being a faction leader—but he's bursting to pull her into a hug. His face nearly splits and he does. He hugs her strongly and she laughs.

"Okay, okay, put me down," She giggles, and she'll deny she did it anyone ever mentions such a thing.

"Sorry," Uriah grins, "I really thought I'd have to ask Tori and we both know that wouldn't have ended well." The older woman has been in a terrible mood as of late. So they steer clear. He knows it has a lot to do with his friend here, and her friendship with Eric. But he holds back his judgment. He can't fault her for caring about something else in the chaos of rebuilding—whatever keeps her sane.

"She means well I think," Tris pats his arm, "Just hurt right now. I can understand." Uriah nods and she gives him a tight lipped smile as they push into the stairwell. "Have a good night Pedrad," Tris says, waving at him as she starts up towards her floor.

"You too," he says, smiling at her brightly. "I'll send you the request!" He rushes out before she disappears around the corner.

She chuckles as she hears him bounding down the staircase.

Rolling her neck, she continues up the stairs, waving with a smirk into the obviously placed cameras surveying pretty much every corner of the compound. She gets an idea then, proposing better surveillance in other factions—she'll have to send it in.

Fishing her key out of her back pocket Tris trudges towards her door. She could really use a long soak in her tub. Her muscles are sore and she just wants to crawl into bed. But she knows she's can't. She's been fighting her new job title tooth and nail. But it was temporary and she's always known that a little—that something will have to give, and her stubbornness would only make the transition more painful. She's already been hailed a hero, that she can't run from, so why not carry the mantle? Why not attempt to better her faction? There has to be someone standing up and saying this will not break them.

Stepping into her apartment, she immediately adjusts the heat setting in the and all but collapses on one of her kitchen stool. She sits with her head down for just a moment of peace. The day runs through her head and she knows there's a lot to go over—things she's got to catch up on. With all that's happening around her, all she'd wanted to do was hide from it. But that's impossible. She holds her face in her hands and huffs before grabbing an apple she brought back with her from amity and shines it on her shirt.

Looking around the apartment, she's got some cleaning to do. Her bookcase is in disarray and her blankets haven't been folded or moved in ages. At least her black leather couches are still in their respective standings. Not even going to look for the remote, she thinks, stepping down into her living room. The TV stares blanking at her. She doesn't watch it anyway, just reruns of old world shows and movies, with the occasional news briefing. She should just get rid of it, as it's only a reminder of the attack on her old home—she's unable to forget that every screen around them showed that fateful day. She's sick to her stomach thinking about it.

There's stacks of paperwork Four undoubtedly brought over. How nice of her boyfriend to bring the work to her, she smirks knowing it's his way to tell her to get her shit together. Four may be a lot of things but he's a constant she can count on. And maybe that's another reason she can't find it in herself to leave him.

Okay, so, her excuses are thin.

She looks at the paperwork and gingerly mulls all of it over while she snacks. There's different requests to rework the point system now that the factions numbers are at an all time low. But she agrees with Tori's memo on it. If they change too much, when the faction expands, there will have to be another overhaul. And who's to say they'll be standing in the next few months?

Despite everything, Tris hopes that she and Tori can fix their friendship. She's seen the former tattoo artist as a friend and mentor. But she can't apologize finding Eric's near execution to be unnecessary.

She remembers her leadership training and what she's supposed to do, picks up her tablet and types a quick summary of her opinion on the memo before sending the email and attaching the file. On next is the announcement of a suicide. She quickly notes that she didn't know the man and passes it off to Four to see how he wants to handle it.

(Honestly she's shocked there haven't been more suicides or spike in crime. But it's a dark train of thought and she quickly tries to move on.)

Uriah sends in his request and she signs off on it before sending it to Four and Tori as a courtesy. It briefly crosses her mind that maybe she should wait a few days before starting to approve her friends requests—impartiality is important. And she doesn't want her friends to come under fire for being friends with her in hopes of getting favors. That's not gossip any of them need.

She hasn't heard from Four since the council and she figures he's here somewhere—hopefully near his tablet so he can make Uriah's day and back her up on the choice. As someone who makes the schedules for those guarding the fence, hopefully he gives Uriah a good shift on his Factionless patrol. But she's done what she said she'd do. Hopefully this will help him stay busy so he doesn't have to deal with losing Marlene and Lynn to the war. It's not healthy coping but she won't force Uriah to face it head on, as she hasn't done so when addressing her parents deaths.

She understands the younger Pedrad's want for some purpose. In this time, coping is important. And Tris knows he's probably trying to figure out where he sits in the new regime Dauntless is being run under. Uriah probably didn't realize that initiate training came with guarding the fence during the rest of the year. Zeke chose surveillance as his main job there in the compound and spends his days in the control room mostly.

Tris sighs and heads back to her kitchen where she throws her apple core away before heading to her bathroom. She bathes and soaks away her day, takes less than a minute to condition her hair, rinses herself off and then slinks into her pajamas. She leaves the light in her bathroom on and pulls her covers all the way up to her chin as she lies in her bed. Closing her eyes, Tris wishes for a dreamless sleep.


Caleb sighs heavily as he stands outside where the factionless have been quarantined until their sickness passes, or they do. He's not a doctor, he's not even studying to be one.

His main focus is research but Tris asked him to show. And he's doing his best to prove to not only her, but himself that he can do it. He wants a relationship with his sister. Even if he doesn't deserve one. He's proud that in the last few days, she's coming around to her job. He was sure this wasn't what she agreed to last year when she chose Dauntless leadership. It's not a big jump in his opinion, but it's one thing to lead a faction with the help of two others, it's another thing—after secrets have been revealed, laws broken, lives taken, and a war fought and won—to go back to the same faction and try to look over the things she didn't know before, and somehow be effective. It's hard but she's trying. Even coming to see him last Monday was a big deal.

It's not as bad as it seems, they're told. Most people's fevers have started to break with the help. It's seems as though disaster has been averted. Medicines have been administered and the Erudite doctor's are packing up to leave.

"See?" Caleb smiles at her. He keeps himself a few steps away from her. "Good news." He can tell she doesn't feel better about it just being something akin to the Flu that the factionless have. "What?"

She can't shake the doubt in her mind about Evelyn. She's been thinking about it, mulling over Evelyn's quiet looks, her dark eyes and closed off demeanor when it comes to what she is and isn't willing to share. Part of Tris feels bad about her suspicions considering the abuse Evelyn has survived but her past victimhood doesn't make her a victim now.

"It's nothing." Tris shrugs. "Can we trust them to get back to Erudite alright?"

"I'm pretty sure they'll be fine." he replies, a hint of teasing in his tone. "Besides, your men are taking them home. I'm the one who should be asking you that."

"C'mon," she rolls her eyes at him, heading for the Abnegation set up down the way. They cross the street, heading towards one of the stronger buildings where volunteers are offering warm meals—chicken soup and bread from Amity. Johanna promised it was peace serum free. It's not much, but it's food.

There's no doors on the building, just patchwork cloth to serve as separation. There's a long table where different volunteers ladle soup into bowls. And around the room representatives are speaking to small groups. It reminds Tris of visiting day, more lively than she expected.

"I know it doesn't mean much, but I'm proud of you Bumble Bea," he smiles at her, hands in his pockets as they stand in the doorway. She beams, thanking him with her smile.

"I just needed a push," Tris says, unsure of what else to say to that. The two siblings are in a weird space. She loves him though, and she feels slightly disoriented by how she finds his opinion valued and wanted. He chose Erudite, more times than she wants to remember but he'll always be her brother, despite his best efforts to force their factions to forget. What's done is done, she's said.

"Tris!" They hear, heads following the sound of the voice. Susan waves them over, her brother beside her. She turns beet-red when people who aren't Tris and Caleb look at her.

Caleb stills, seeing the person his teenage crush had been focused on. Tris elbows him with a grin.

"Hey guys," Tris says, looking around. She notes the factionless eating and talking freely and there's a pang of guilt in her stomach that reminds her of the help they offered in the rebellion. They've lost more than they gained. She's pulled into a hug, Robert greeting her the way the Amity do.

He's taller than both her and Susan, but a couple inches shorter than Caleb who looks every bit of the 6 foot 3 inches that he's grown into over the years. But unlike Caleb, he's let his facial hair grow, and his blond hair is short and quiffed messily about his head. He's handsome by most accounts, with his strong jaw and smooth, sun kissed skin, Tris thinks, and she would be surprised if he has no suitors at all.

The red of his shirt is a stark contrast to his sister's grey outfit.

Caleb quickly offers a handshake instead of being pulled into an awkward hug. Robert laughs but accepts the shake. "How're you Caleb?" Robert asks, his voice deep and warm. They used to be so close, the four of them, growing up a little separated from the rest of the faction. Now they feel like strangers.

"I'm well," Caleb says, and his eyes drift to Robert's sister. Susan smiles at him and the familiarity of the situation is not lost on them. Robert and Tris glance at each other and smile. It's definitely dejá vu.

"Hi," Susan says, looking away quickly.

"How's it been?" Tris asks, cutting into the conversation before her brother makes a bigger fool of himself. "Anything I need to know?"

"What you'd expect," Susan explains. "We'll be leaving soon." They gave as much as they had for the day. And made sure the factionless were fed. Many people seem to be interested in going home to visit.

"Some people have nowhere to go home to, Tris." Robert says. "You can imagine the grief."

"We expected that could be the case," Tris admits, feeling their eyes on her.

"There's no scenario in which a good portion of the factionless haven't lost a great deal," Caleb replies, taking some of the pressure off Tris's words.

Tris looks at Robert, "What are you even doing here?" She asks with a smile reaching her eyes.

He laughs, "I helped bring the bread… I volunteered."

"No art coming along?" Susan asks him, knowing he's picked up the artistic trait as a child. He was always better at it compared to her.

"Not currently. I can only paint the same image so many times before I lose my mind." He says solemnly. He hasn't been in the mood for art. "Something will come to me."

"Well, we were just checking in," Tris says, changing the subject again, "I'm going to see that the Erudite didn't need any help getting back…"

Caleb shoots her a look, "I'll stay," he says.

She looks at him with a quirked brow. "You sure? If you stay you're gonna have to catch a ride with someone…" she knows he wants to stay so he can catch up with Susan but she won't tease him… too much. Her smirk says enough. "Dauntless patrol shift change isn't until 8."

"I'll be fine Tris," he laughs easily.

"Okay," She backs off.

Robert chuckles, "I'll head out with you. I could use the air," he shuffles behind her, using the thin excuse to leave Caleb and Susan alone.

"You're leaving them alone?" Tris asks with a snort.

"He doesn't want to talk to me," Robert shrugs, pushing the cloth over the doorway out of their way. "But I guess you can't talk to me very long either?"

She gives him an apologetic glance and he nods as she starts her way towards her friend, pointing at him,"Next time…" she turns as he waves, "Uri!" They're both surprised at how quickly Four responded to his request of transfer. But today is his first day.

"What's up?" Uriah asks, weapons strapped about his body in preparation. It didn't go over well with Abnegation committed but Tris's opinion overruled theirs.

Tris looks around, making sure they're out of earshot of the nearest people. She's been growing edgy since they arrived. "Nothing. Erudite left with no problems?"

"Yeah," Uriah nods seriously, both of them in a serious mood now that actual work conversation has been brought up. "Zeke took off with the last truck of them. Dr. Daniels and Rykers." She'd been surprise that the older Pedrad volunteered for factionless Day—as it has been dubbed.

"Good," Tris exhaled, lips rolling in a way that made Uriah chuckle. She gave him a smirk. "It's been a long day. Productive but long."

"I just got here." He shrugs. Over the next hour, there will be a shift in the mood around the place. The members of the four visiting factions will be on their way home and the factionless will be left to the night. Dauntless guards on high alert around these parts. "You leaving?"

"In a bit," Tris says noncommittally. She's not even required to be here today. As a leader of Dauntless, she could bark orders from her apartment if she wanted to. But that's not who she is. They stand there, watching as the building where the dining has been done throughout the day, is starting to be cleared out. "Do me a favor?"

"Yeah," He doesn't hesitate.

"Caleb is staying, could you make sure he gets a ride home later…"

Uriah laughs but nods. "Sure thing."

She places her hand on his shoulder, "I'll see ya later."

He nods as she starts toward the street, waving a hand at a truck of Dauntless she recognizes. She checks in with Lauren, switching control to the older woman where she stands getting caught up with the others she's shown with.

Tris is happy she learned to drive in school when it was offered in upper levels. It was Caleb who convinced their parents to let her take the class—one day it could be important, he said. She can leave somewhere whenever she pleases now.

"Tris…" she hears, turning to see who followed her all the way to her vehicle.

Evelyn.

The older, brunette considers her with her steely gaze, "Thank you." The words physically pain her to say.

Tris is dumbfounded, never expecting to hear Evelyn ever thank her for anything. "It's… it wasn't a problem. We shouldn't have stood by for so long."

"No, you shouldn't have. But today was a fine first step. They're thankful so, so am I." Evelyn comments bristly. And Tris's shocked expression isn't hard to ignore. "Off to speak with your favorite prisoner?"

Tris begins to nod—not registering anything but the thank you, for a moment—before she looks at Evelyn quickly, exhaling an amused huff, brows raised. "I beg your pardon?"

"He's a felon, Tris."

"He was used a scapegoat because we couldn't get Jeanine and Max," Tris argues. She's so tired of this. One minute, they're having as pleasant a conversation that can be expected, the next Tris is being insulted.

A moment later, Evelyn gives a smile that chills Tris's bones. She's proud of the reaction her response has earned from the young woman.

"You should be careful," Evelyn says, "Especially now when everyone's state of mind is so fragile. He saved your life, and for that, he gets to live because you feel indebted. But the rest of us don't have to." She doesn't give the young leader a moment for breath before she's continuing on without preamble. "And quite frankly, it's not very smart to think the impasse will last. Someone will attempt to get to him, and they may try and get to him through you."

Tris watches her leave, brows furrowed. She's unsure if she was just warned, or threatened.