Disclaimer: I do not own the Divergent books, movie franchise or any of the characters from it. I do, however, own the plot and characters you don't recognize.

Saturday evenings are always a family affair.

"Ugh!" She throws her pencil down into the crease of her Mathematics textbook and flips it closed with a huff.

Beside her, Booker glances up from picking out all the raisins from his cereal and gives her a funny look.

She sighs. "Homework fucking blows. You're so lucky you don't have to endure this school bullshit."

"Petra-Lynn Sandborn." Her mother turns away from the stove in their small kitchenette to send her a glare over her shoulder. "One more curse word, young lady, I dare you." She gives an innocent flutter of her lashes and her mother scoffs with a grand roll of her eyes. "I honestly don't know where you picked up that language from."

"Pop," Petra-Lynn answers with a shrug.

Her mother blows out a sigh, ruffling wisps of her dirty-blonde hair that covers her forehead. "Point taken, you little smart mouth." She turns back to the stove and continues her stirring of the rice. "Your father swears like a sailor."

"He likes to say 'fuck' the most, Ms. Naomi!" Booker pipes in with a grin.

Petra-Lynn chokes on her laughter, while her mother sends him a reproachful stare. But amusement quirks her lips and the corners of her sparkling blue eyes are crinkling.

"Booker, I've told you before. Call me 'Naomi', or even…'Mom' if you're feeling a bit more comfortable."

A soft look falls over his face and he ducks away shyly, his cheeks dusted with a light shade of pink. "I know, I know. They say it's not respectful. I want to be respectful. So I must call you 'Ms. Naomi'."

"O-oh, right." Her mother falters with a jerky nod.

Nodding, Booker returns to removing the raisins from his favorite brand of cereal.

Petra-Lynn bites her lip and makes a motion for her mother to drop the subject. She didn't want to set off him again. Last time it took them hours to finally calm him down from his episode.

"Why don't you like raisins, if you don't mind me asking, dear?"

He pauses. "Evelyn would always try to make us eat them. But I don't like raisins." Booker says quietly as he arranges them into a rectangle on the tabletop. "They remind me of shriveled up old people and I feel like I'd be a cannibal if I eat them." His eyes jump up to meet hers. They're shining with tears. "I'm sorry, Ms. Naomi. I don't mean to be difficult-"

"Stop it, Book." Petra-Lynn demands softly. She slides her hand across the table, brushing her fingers against his.

His glossy eyes dart to her. Then after a moment, he takes her hand and squeezes it.

"It's okay not to like something. No one's gonna be pissed at you or you're not gonna be punished. It's cool, you're cool, so we're all cool."

Booker giggles then drags her into a bear hug. "You're so silly, Petra-Lynn," he mumbles into her hair.

"You're safe here, Booker." Her mother adds, smiling gently. "We love you like you're our own. Especially after all you've done for my daughter."

"Thank you, Ms. Naomi. You're the mother I've always wanted." Booker releases Petra-Lynn and bounds over to her mother to engulf her in tender hug.

Her mother sniffles and lifts a hand to stroke the back of his head as she settles into his embrace. She's always been a sap, kind-hearted like one of those banjo-strummin' softies.

Front door opens and her father blusters in. His black-and-white clothing is askew and his face is twisted into a dark scowl. "I fucking hate those goddamn pricks at work. Stupid motherfuc-"

"See, Ma, I told you. Got it from Pop!"

Her mother narrows her eyes at her father who mutters even darker words under his breath. "Rough day, Ian?" She asks pointedly, folding her arms as Petra-Lynn and Booker cackle loudly at the table. "Sounds like it."

"The worst," Her father feigns an innocent expression noticing the stern look hardening her delicate features. "But seeing my beautiful wife has made it ten times better." He replies smoothly and kisses both her mother's cheeks. "I love you, honey." Then her father pecks the tip of her nose which has her giggling like a little school girl.

"My husband, always the sweet talker."

"Damn right I am, babe." Her father is all big smiles and bright hazel-brown eyes.

Watching her parents, Petra-Lynn finds herself further appreciating the warmth of her loving family.

"Get a room, you crazy kids." She playfully jeers.

Her father chuckles while color burns into her mother's cheeks. "Jealous, daughter?" He waggles his heavy set brows.

"Of Ma? Pop, you sicko."

"You know I didn't mean it like that, smartass."

Petra-Lynn grins and her father rolls his eyes before walking over to the table. He bends down and drops a kiss to the top of her head then to Booker's. "So family, what's the 4-1-1?"

"Mr. Ian, that was very lame."

"Ah! Straight to the heart, Booker!" Her father exclaims dramatically. "What? Don't think I can keep up with the lingo? I can be hip! Isn't that right, babe?"

Her mother giggled again. "Not after your hip replacement, dear."

"Oh what do you know, woman."

Petra-Lynn snorts just as there's a knock at the door. "Don't worry, I got it," she announces, hopping to her feet, but her family is too busy bickering to notice. She skips over to the door, pulls it open, and then white flashes across her vision.

Ashes.

Everything lies in ashes.

She gazes out on the smoking ruins, charred bodies, and scattered possessions. People–men, women, and children-sprawled where they'd been shot down. Some are dying in futile attempts at defense, others slaughtered as they fled. The swirling breeze carries the taint of wood smoke and burnt flesh to her.

"Ma-" Petra-Lynn whips around. Suddenly, she's on her knees with her mother and father trembling on either side of her. "Ma, Pop, what-"

Petra-Lynn feels something cold press to her forehead with an audible click. Spinner gazes down the barrel of her gun and into her eyes. "What are you doing? What are you doing? How could you? How-"Her bullet fires and the last thing she feels is the world spinning.

Spinner blinks her eyes open, now feeling the weight of the gun in her own hand. Her parents are sobbing over her corpse. Blood a dark, messy halo around her head and her body bled white, stiff and icy in death.

"You are a failed experiment in mutation." Her father rumbles in a gravelly whisper and he slowly raises his head.

Her hand clenches around the weapon. "Shut up," she mumbles.

Her mother lifts her eyes to glare at her also. "A miserable creature, a monster."

Rage stiffens Spinner's posture and her gun takes aim. "I said shut up."

"You'll never... you'll never… you'll never forget!"

Their laughter pierces her, and she seethes through her teeth as her finger squeezes the trigger.

"Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!"

The roar of the gun fills the evening. The deadly hits reverberate deafeningly around her for what feels like an eternity. Her heart lurches as she watches their bodies drop to the ground. And the look of surprise on their faces as they crumple will haunt her forever.

Numb by disbelief and horror and shock and grief too savage to express, her mind shuts down. Slowly in her own time, Spinner presses the muzzle of the gun to her temple. Releasing an anguished cry to the dark sky, she pulls the trigger.

"Rough night?"

Carried on Lauren's back, Spinner groans into the crook of her neck. She can do without the slight amusement painting Four's tone. "Kiss my ass, Broody," she mutters and raises hand to flip him off as Lauren lowers her into the chair next to him.

"Oh, like you wouldn't believe." Lauren sighs, sinking into the chair on the other side of her.

Spinner aims the finger in her friend's direction as she cradles her pounding forehead in her other hand.

"Aww Spin, I didn't get anything nice for you."

"Bite me, Sweets."

"I'm sure Eric would love to take you up on that offer."

"It's too early for this shit, way too early…" Spinner slumps down further into her chair, tossing an arm over her eyes. "What in the fuck possessed Max to call a meeting at six-fucking -thirty in the morning? I still can't fucking see straight, Jesus Christ."

Last night's nightmare was a solid nine on her scale of most horrifying thing to ever experience. She woke up screaming and shaking in a pool of cold sweat. Lauren was already at her side, tugging her into a hug when she finally dissolved into tears.

The dream marked fleeting memories, emotions, pain into her skin with its white-hot poker. Spinner isn't just aware of it; it strikes her again and again until it leaves a searing gaping hole in her chest. A family she wasn't ready to leave, a life she doesn't want to remember, and a grief she isn't ready to face.

She wills the rush of tears prickling her eyes a hasty retreat. Lifting her free arm, she runs her sleeve underneath her nose to conceal her sniffle.

"Spinner-"

A heavy sigh leaves her lips. "Four, I honestly wouldn't..." She pulls away her arm at the sound of the door opening as Max enters the room with Eric not too far behind. "This blows, Bossman." Spinner grumbles as she knuckles one of her eyes with a huff.

"Good morning to you too, Petra," Max chuckles and claims his seat at the head of the conference table.

"There's nothing good about it. This morning sucks balls."

"You don't know when to keep your mouth shut, do you?" Eric narrows his eyes at her while sliding into the seat opposite of her. "Slapping a muzzle on you would teach you some discipline. Treat you like the little bitch you are."

A smirk plays on Spinner's lips. "Aww, how sweet? If you're into that sorta kink, Eric, be my guest. I'm willing to broaden my horizon. Y'know, try new things." She waggles her eyebrows in a suggestive manner.

Lauren snickers quietly on her left and a smile threatens to tug at the sides of Four's lips on her right.

"Funny." Eric spits back mockingly. "I'll keep that in mind while I'm hanging you over the chasm, Princess."

Her smirk remains in place. "Sounds romantic, hun."

If looks could kill…

Max clears his throat awkwardly. "Right, let's get this started. As you know, today is the end of stage one for our initiates and we have to decide who gets cut and who moves forward. So, Petra, we'll begin with you." He folds his hands on top of the conference table, eyeing her pensively. "Any of the transfer-initiates showing signs of promise?" The faction leader leans forward, "demonstrating unique potential?"

Spinner wrinkles her brow.

He's asking if you've seen any signs of early divergence, I gather carefully.

Cocking her head, she goes through her mental catalogue of probable Divergent contenders. The order of the initiates' rankings from top to bottom is the following:

1. Oscar

2. Danny (A boy from Candor)

3. Jasmine

4. Jude (surprisingly)

5. Jed

6. Alley

7. Adrian (Danny's twin brother; fraternal)

8. Delilah

9. Kendrick

With her verdict, came a death sentence and frightening enough, she remains impassive. Marred by the faction system, desensitized to violence, Spinner lifts an indifferent shoulder.

"Oscar would be my best bet," she ventures at last, and Four gives her a look out the corner of his eyes. Ignoring him, Spinner continues, "He's a force to be reckoned with. Kid's proficient and devastatingly brutal. Could even give the human tank over there a run for his money."

Eric rolls his eyes at yet another one of her epithets for him. But then again, she could've sworn she seen his chest puff out.

Snorting, Spinner leans back in her seat.

"Interesting," Max nods while he considers her words. "Thank you, Petra, for your insight."

"No prob, Bossman."

"Lauren, how about you? How are the Dauntless-borns managing after… Fox's accident? I heard he was your top initiate at the time."

Spinner tunes out the rest of the conversation. Max's hesitation and the glances from Four and Lauren are too much for her to deal with right now. There are no new leads on Fox's death. Either someone's withholding information, or members of Dauntless are already over it.

As she looks out the window, Spinner thinks of her family, and the heartache she immediately feels takes her by surprise.

It wasn't your fault, I assure, and it sends her leg into an impatient bouncing fit.

"Petra, are you all right?"

Spinner's fingernails dig into her biceps. She's searching to relieve the emotional pressure bearing down on her chest. She curses me darkly for bringing up a past that isn't worth mentioning and that I have no business speaking of. "I'm fine."

"Could you at least answer my question?"

"What?" Spinner blinks and looks at Max. She finds the others in the conference room staring at her as well. "Sorry, I wasn't listening."

"That's nothing new." Eric scoffs gruffly.

Spinner grits her teeth in annoyance as she glares his way. "Maybe we should put the muzzle on you first, Ice Queen."

He shoots her his own lethal glare that could have Hell freezing over at this very moment. "Try it and see where that gets you. I'll even give you a hint: the morgue."

"Oooh, I'm shaking." She leans forward slightly, miming a shiver.

"All right, all right, that's enough, you two." Max sighs. Eric narrows his eyes at her and she elevates an eyebrow in response. "As I was asking you before, Petra, are you familiar with a game called Capture the Flag?"

"Dates back to Civil War, doesn't it?"

Everyone stares at her again.

"Y'all act like you haven't seen me reading before." Spinner rolls her eyes, jingling her leg.

She actually hates reading with a burning passion. But she does it for Booker and her father because they enjoyed it so much. It had been the foundation of their relationship, their love for literature. The only part of her life she is willing to hold onto.

"Yeah, I know what it is. What about it?"

Lauren glances at her. "We talked about this yesterday at dinner, remember?"

Spinner scratches behind her ear, "When I was reading?"

"Yes."

"Ohhh… yeah, I wasn't listening. But that book threw me one hell of a curve ball though. I didn't even see it coming."

"Smartass," Lauren mutters, and Spinner reaches up to pinch her cheek teasingly. She swats her hand away with a slight smile.

Four chuckles quietly beside her. "Capture the Flag is a Dauntless tradition," he says. "Tonight we'll be our first time playing as captains rather than initiates."

"Four was on the winning team during his and Eric's initiation year." Max adds offhandedly.

Spinner notes the way Eric's face instantly darkens at the reminder. She shrugs, her bottom lip poking out. "Maybe things will pan out differently this year." At this, his steely-gray eyes jump to hers and narrow when she offers him a light grin. "For all we know, Eric could be already formulating a sure-fire plan to lead him to victory tonight."

Four actually snorts out loud, which is surprising because he's normally so reserved.

"Want to tell the rest of us what's so funny, Stiff?" Eric barks across the table, glaring at him coldly.

Four's body, ironically, stiffens from his goading tone.

"Wait, Stiff?" Spinner's eyes are alight with incredulity. She can't help but turn to stare at the silently fuming boy.

He disregards her gaze.

"You're from fucking Abnegation, Four? Holy shit, I should've recognized it sooner. Whoever doesn't know what playing hooky is gotta be a Stiff. I mean, c'mon."

Four's eyes resemble twin storm clouds as he frowns at Eric. The young leader's expression is triumphant with a smug satisfaction.

"Oh great, here comes another one of their pissing matches." Spinner groans then glances at Max. "Can we go now? All this," she circles a hand in the air between Eric and Four, "is starting to give me a headache. Aren't you getting a headache as well, Sweets?"

Lauren fights to keep the mirth off her features and nods her head as seriously as she could. "Oh yeah, a huge one."

Max rolls his eyes. "I'm not-"

"Exactly. So," Spinner grabs Lauren's hand then surges to her feet, pulling up her friend with her. "We'll be heading off. You know what they say: the early bird catches the worm and all that other good shit." She gives him a mock-salute before proceeding towards the door.

"Petra, I wasn't finished."

"I know, you can e-mail it to me," Pausing at the doorway, she grins at Max as he levels a withering glance her way. "Or to make your life easier, have Eric fill me in on the rest, yeah? Okay, gotta go, catch ya later, Bossman!"

With a thumbs-up and a wink, Spinner twirls away, dragging a laughing Lauren behind her.

Spinner's good mood doesn't last for long.

An hour later she finds herself in the gun training room, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. She can taste blood as she's trying her earnest to keep her body from jerking each time a gunshot sounds. Eric and Four stand on either side of her, stealing tiny glances at her body's reactions to the noise.

Spinner's nails dig crescent-shaped grooves into her palms.

"You all right, Spinner?" Four asks stoically.

Her eyes shift to him sharply as gunfire resonates again. "Peachy," she forces out an exaggerated smile.

Eric scoffs, staring disinterestedly ahead. "You are from Candor, because you're a shit liar."

"Hey, Four, I think Kendrick's gun jammed. Go help him out, will ya?"

Wordlessly, Four strides away. Though, not without shooting her an inquisitive glance over his shoulder.

Spinner looks to Eric from beneath her lashes with a lazy incline of her head. "Tell me something," she starts off in a casual manner, although I can hear the condescending undertone. "Does anyone else know about your involvement with Erudite?"

Eric is hardly fazed, clasping his hands in front of him and angling his chin. "No and if you let that piece of information slip, you won't like what happens to you, Petra."

"Well that depends, Eric," she replies with ease. "What did you have in mind?"

"Breaking your neck then tossing your useless corpse into the chasm."

"That's assuming you'll still be walking by the time you're ready to do so."

"Oh?" Eric lifts his eyebrows and a slow, impressed smirk pulls across his lips. "That's rich coming from a girl with Hoplophobia. In layman terms: an irrational aversion to firearms." He adds complacently when she blinked at him in mystification.

"Erudite nerd," Spinner snorts. "They force-feed you dictionaries while you're in there?"

"Better knowledgeable than sprouting off the mouth every chance you get." Eric snaps as he gives her a disdainful glance from the corner of his eye.

Spinner narrows her eyes. "It's called honesty. You should try it sometime."

"It's called being tactless, so I'll pass thanks."

"You think you know everything, don't you?" She scoffs and her body twitches as more bullets fire.

"Apparently not everything," Eric turns and faces her, arching a wry eyebrow. "Like for instance, Jeanine's interest in you. Why's she giving you the special treatment, huh, Princess?"

Spinner's blood begins simmering.

"The serums, the constant surveillance, your initiation process being at Erudite rather than Dauntless. What makes you so valuable to her?"

This is where things get messy: she doesn't know, she can't remember.

Her mind is like broken fragments of maybes and might have beens. She's only left with the impressions of memories. The weight of the gun, fingers digging into her flesh, the metallic scent of blood. And the dreams–God, the dreams. She couldn't distinguish truth from delusions. Jeanine had offered little to no explanation, dodging Spinner's questions with professional grace.

'I was a close friend of your parents during their time in Erudite. The three of us were nearly inseparable.' And that's all she was willing to disclose.

"Aww what's the matter, Red? Cat got your tongue?"

Spinner glares at him with dark, menacing eyes. "Don't fuck with me, Eric."

"Or what?" He sneers as he eases a step closer. "Think you can do something about it, tough girl?"

Spinner chuckles abruptly while uncurling her fists. She lifts a finger and lightly caresses the hollow of his throat. "You wouldn't want me as your enemy." Then the digit begins a slow voyage down his chest, her eyes searching his. "Trust me."

Eric smirks and leans down until his lips are touching the shell of her ear. "Whatever it is your hiding, I'm going to find out eventually. Trust me. You aren't as good at keeping secrets as you think."

"Don't be fooled," Spinner returns in a throaty whisper. "I can be very crafty when I want to be." She edges closer to his neck and nips his pulse point, grazing the tattooed skin there with her teeth. His entire body goes taut and then snaps upright, leaving him staring at her long and hard. She smiles devilishly. "See you tonight, Tank."

Spinner pivots on her heel and walks away, feeling Eric glaring daggers at the back of her skull.

More is revealed about Spinner. Jeanine was close with her parents once upon the time. Eric is growing suspicious and is determined to find out what the she's hiding. But really, Spinner can't remember.

UST, obviously lol but of course, the plot thickens.

Next chapter is the War Games. Let's see how these two handle it. I'm convinced it will be utter madness.

Thank you for the reviews, the favs, the follows. Means a lot to me!

Love, Peace and Tranquility.