I'm back! SORRY for taking so long to update. Got busy, then started writing another story (Inked) and neglected this one. I won't take so long next time. I hope you'll stick with me...thanks as always for your reviews!
Annnnnddddd...I still don't own Insurgent.
God, sometimes I wish the Candor would learn how to just shut the hell up.
For the past hour, I've been watching a bunch of them debate how to proceed with the "peace" process. Though we were asked here to give input on security, none of the Dauntless in the room can get a word in edgewise. All we can do is look at each other and roll our eyes.
Dauntless gets more transfers from Candor than any other faction – honesty does take a certain kind of bravery. But once they join Dauntless, they learn about strategy and subterfuge…something Jack Kang clearly doesn't understand, given the brilliant plan he's outlining now.
"Jeanine is going to send a representative to talk with me in a neutral location, halfway between Erudite and Candor. Apparently that person will have the authority to negotiate terms."
He is way too trusting. It's the kind of idiocy that makes me lose my temper.
"You're giving up the one strategic advantage you have – getting her out in the open!" I yell at him, my voice rising above the others. "You think because you'll deal with her in a straightforward manner, that she'll return the favor? Wake up, Jack! If Jeanine doesn't like what you have to say, she'll just activate the transmitter in your arm….or get her lackey to shoot you!"
The room gets quiet. I guess I finally figured out how to get Candor to stop talking – threaten them with violent deaths.
Jack walks over to me. "What exactly qualifies you to speculate on Jeanine's thought process, Mr. Eaton?" he says, a smile playing around the edge of his mouth.
I absolutely hate that this man is calling me by my father's name. "Because I've seen it in action," I say with as much contempt as I can muster. "That's exactly what she tried to do to Tris…and me."
"You are a Divergent teenager. I am a faction leader. I think she'll treat me with more respect," he says.
"You mean the same kind of respect she showed the Abnegation leaders? You know, when she programmed the Dauntless soldiers to shoot them in the head?"
The Dauntless behind me start pounding their fists on tables and chairs in agreement. Jack's face turns beet red.
"I don't recall asking you for advice," he says. "I think it's time for you to leave."
I stare him down until he looks away. Bud, Tori's tattoo partner, puts his hand on my shoulder to diffuse the tension.
"Just go, Four," he mutters. "We'll make sure to send Dauntless guards with him. We'll tell everyone what they say." I nod tightly and walk out the door.
I just got thrown out of a Candor planning meeting…for being honest. I don't know if I can stomach the irony.
I sit for a minute in the empty hallway; I need to calm down. I have to go tell Tris and the others what's happening, and they're going to want to get in on the action. They'll do something crazy and impulsive, and Tris will throw herself in the thick of it. I can't protect her from her worst enemy – herself.
I sigh, get up, and start walking.
I step into the Gathering Place and see Tris, Zeke, Uriah, Lynn, Marlene, and Shauna sitting at the far end. When I drop into a seat beside Tris, they all look up, eager for news.
"Kang is going to meet with a representative of Jeanine Matthews at seven in the morning," I tell them.
"A representative?" Zeke says. "She's not going herself?"
No, that would take guts, something Jeanine is seriously lacking.
"Yeah, and stand out in the open where a bunch of angry people with guns can take aim?" Uriah says. "I'd like to see her try. No, really, I would."
"Is Kang the Brilliant taking a Dauntless escort, at least?" Lynn says.
"Yes. Some of the older members volunteered. Bud said he would keep his ears open and report back." Tris frowns at me. I can see the wheels turning in her head; she is wondering why I've gotten involved. I'm starting to wonder that myself. I look down at the table, avoiding her gaze.
"So I guess the real question is," says Zeke, folding his hands on the table like he's in class, "if you were Erudite, what would you say at this meeting?"
Everyone turns to look at Tris.
"What?" she says, eyes wary.
"You're Divergent," Zeke says, waggling his eyebrows up and down.
"So is Tobias."
"Yeah, but he doesn't have aptitude for Erudite." Thanks Zeke. Now I know what you think of my brainpower. Never mind that he's probably right – Tris is more Erudite than I'll ever be.
"And how do you know I do?" Tris says. Zeke was in Erudite for a while; she's worried that they have information on her. She's right to be concerned, though I think Zeke is just guessing. He can be pretty perceptive when he's not clowning around.
Zeke shrugs. "Seems likely. Doesn't it seem likely?"
Uriah and Lynn nod mutely. I try not to smile.
"You all have functional brains, last time I checked," Tris snaps. "You can think like the Erudite, too."
That's the problem with the factions. We spend so much time throwing ourselves down the path we've chosen, we give up on everything else. That's why I get so frustrated with Tris when she acts so…Dauntless. She is capable of so much more.
Maybe we all are.
Marlene starts joking about Divergent magic, and I tune her out. But then I hear Shauna's voice for the first time, and I look up.
"Don't Shauna me!" she says to Zeke. "Don't you think someone with the aptitude for multiple factions might have a loyalty problem? If she's got aptitude for Erudite, how can we be sure she's not working for Erudite?"
"Don't be ridiculous," I say to her. Her prejudice is making her irrational.
"I'm not being ridiculous! I know I belong in Dauntless because everything I did in that aptitude test told me so. I'm loyal to my faction for that reason – because there's nowhere else I could possibly be. But her?" Shauna looks at Tris, and then she turns towards me. "And you? I have no idea who you're loyal to. And I'm not going to pretend that everything's okay."
She storms out of the room. So I guess two years of friendship mean nothing. All those nights helping her learn to fight, they don't count unless I'm one of the herd.
Screw that, and screw her. I scowl at the table.
Tris is talking about Jack again, so I start paying attention.
"I think that Jeanine Matthews will manipulate him. And that he will do anything to protect his faction, even if it means sacrificing the Divergent." She pauses for a minute, and then looks up at us, a grim look on her face. "Or sacrificing the Dauntless. So we need to hear what they say in that meeting."
My heart sinks. She's right. We do. It's going to be dangerous. And she's going to want to be there, unarmed, and vulnerable.
Lynn looks up, her eyes cold. "So let's listen in."
At dinner, everyone is jumpy, our minds on the morning ahead. Tris is twitchy, checking her watch, her legs restless, pumping up and down underneath the table. She keeps sneaking looks at Christina, sitting a few tables away with her Candor family. Lynn stabs her meat like it's trying to murder her; she's still angry with her sister. I'm hyper-alert, keeping one eye out for Marcus while Lauren drones on about Dauntless training methods. She's still clinging to the hope that our faction isn't dead.
We're just a big bunch of fun.
Lynn gives up her attack on her chicken, and starts piling mashed potatoes on a roll. Tris makes a face.
"Don't tell me you're going to eat a mashed potato sandwich," she says.
"So what if I am?"
That's when I hear the whispers.
"Coward." A male voice, behind me.
"Coward." Female, in my ear.
"Coward." A whole group of them, moving past me.
I freeze, my butter knife halfway to my bread.
"What idiots," I hear Lauren say to me. "And the Candor, for making you spill your life story for everyone to see…they're idiots too."
I see Tris glance at me; she thinks I am about to explode. A few days ago, I would have. But beating up idiots will get me nowhere. There's only one way to become an alpha dog – take out the existing leader.
"This needs to stop." I put my knife down and slowly stand up. I scan the room until I find my target. If I have to do this in public, now's as good a time as any.
It seems so incredibly ordinary – finishing my chicken, buttering my bread, confronting my abusive father. This isn't how I planned this, in the middle of a Candor cafeteria. I've thought about it for years. When I was nine, I prayed for lightning to strike my father down. When I was eleven, I dreamed of bursting out of the closet with a gun. When I was fourteen, I hit him back, and he made me regret it. At sixteen, I looked him in the eye as I sliced open my hand and held it over the coals. In my fear landscape, I have cowered and kicked and punched and been beaten in return. I have fought a dozen versions of him, but never conquered one.
But I am not in a simulation, and I am no longer a child. I am the one in control. I am not afraid, and everyone will know it.
I slip past tables, through conversations. I see laughter, gestures, but I don't hear voices. And then I'm there.
Marcus turns toward me as I grab his collar and haul him from his seat. There is no fear in his eyes. There should be.
He starts to say something, and I punch him right in the mouth. Hard. He crumples and puts his hands over his face. I shove him towards the center of the room, right over the Candor scales on the floor. The symbol of truth – but this is not honesty. If I were being honest, Marcus would be half dead by now. I'm not really going to hurt him – I'm going to humiliate him. It should be easy. He's the one who taught me how.
I shove him to the ground and put my foot on his throat. I can feel him hitting at my leg, see his blood dripping on the floor. I remove my belt, and finally, he looks scared.
"This is for your own good," I say.
I draw the belt back and hit his arm. I unleash it again, on his back. All around me, the Dauntless are laughing.
And then she stops me. Just like I knew she would.
"Stop!" Tris says. "Tobias, stop right now!"
I have made Tris part of the show.
I reach into my pocket and pull out my mother's ring. I dangle it in front of my father's face, and drop it on the tiles. It glints dully against the blood flowing from his nose.
"My mother says hello," I say as I turn my back and head towards the door.
I hear Tris's footsteps behind me, but I don't wait for her to catch up. I have to get out of here, away from the belt, from any thoughts of revenge. I didn't really hurt Marcus, though I still want to, badly. But if I lose control, I'll be no better than him.
"What was that?"
I don't look at Tris as I press the down button for the elevator. My hand starts shaking. Of course she saw through my act. I wouldn't expect any less.
"It was necessary."
"Necessary for what?" she says. I don't understand how she can even ask that. No matter what I'm doing, or planning, Marcus deserved that. He deserved much more.
"What, you're feeling sorry for him now? Do you know how many times he did that to me? How do you think I learned the moves?" I glare at her, and she shrinks back from me.
"No," she says quietly. "No, I don't feel sorry for him, not at all."
"Then what, Tris? You haven't cared about what I do or say for the past week; what's so different about this?"
She jerks back like I've hit her. The elevator doors open, and I step inside.
"Nothing," she says. I look at my girlfriend. She has fear in her eyes, and I'm the one that put it there. Something breaks deep inside of me. I want to punch something; I want to yell. I want to cry.
I smash my fist down on a button, and the doors close between us. I put my forehead against the cool metal, and close my eyes.