Disclaimer: I do not own the Divergent series.

A/N: Hi, everyone! I am SO sorry for my hiatus. I'm in college and it's so much work! But I managed to finally get out and go watch Insurgent, and it has rekindled my obsession with the series and with Jeanine particularly (Kate Winslet portrays her so well!). I wanted to write a little more of this tale, and I plan to write more after the exams, papers, and research calms down. (I feel like such an Erudite :P)

Thanks so much for reading, and please let me know what you think!

To Eradicate

TWENTY

Sweat glittered on his brow as he bent over the wooden work table, his eyes trained on his subject. You can do this. He took a deep breath. You can do this.

His right hand maneuvered a sharp needle while his left held down a small piece of silver. Methodically, he put the needle in, twisted it, and moved the wire; he shifted the needle, turned it slightly, and exposed a microchip. Aha.

It was a procedure that he'd done countless times before, and with each and every movement, his actions grew swifter and bolder. He spent less time adjusting and more time exploring, and as the sweat continued to drip down the side of his face, his eyes remained locked on the center of the object.

After a few minutes, he paused, his lips pursed and his eyes trained intently on the center of the device. Very carefully, he held his breath and stuck the needle deep inside. He moved it over to the right beneath a yellow wire, and with a click, the silver metal glowed green and the table started vibrating.

"Well done, Caleb." A balding man dressed in a blue suit nodded and scribbled something down on a clipboard. "You've increased your proficiency by twelve percent since the last practical. However, you still dawdled while activating the initiator. You may clean up and go to the cafeteria for lunch."

Caleb finally let out the breath he was holding, relief flecked in the pits of his green eyes. As much as he enjoyed conducting experiments, he always felt pressured and contained by the grades. As an Abnegation, this made sense. He wasn't supposed to feel gratified or dejected by a grade. Valuing yourself based on how well you perform compared to others was just wrong. Caleb was told that he received the highest grades in his year and that he had the ability to go far, but that didn't matter. To him, he was just doing his duty by doing his best in school. It was as simple as that.

"Thank you, Mr. Sullivan." Caleb flashed his teacher a smile before taking off his goggles and then shrugging out of his lab coat. After he had deactivated the device and put it back in the cabinet, he hung up his coat on the hanger, collected his books, and exited the laboratory, joining a crowd of students making their way toward the cafeteria.

"Caleb!" Looking behind him, Caleb saw a skinny girl dressed in gray race over to him. She had blonde-frosted hair tucked tightly into a bun, and she skidded to a halt beside him and gave him a wide grin.

Caleb, however, didn't quite share the sentiment. "Beatrice, you shouldn't be running." The smile faded from the girl as she stared into his eyes, her brown ones losing their flame. He felt bad, but at the same time, she was breaking her faction's rules. "Only the Dauntless run around like that indoors. You need to be more composed."

For a moment, Beatrice said nothing. But after a few seconds, she snapped her head up and glared over at him. "I'm sorry for embarrassing you, Caleb."

"Beatrice." She was so rash – so very rash. No one in Abnegation was permitted to speak like that. Not even their father, who was on the council and was part of Abnegation leadership.

"No, no – you're right. It must be so painful for you to havea sister like me."

His nostrils flaring slightly, Caleb merely stared at her. He'd learned a long time ago to control his feelings and focus on the situation in front of him. Though the circumstances of this learning still panged his heart, he swallowed that emotion as well. "You know that's not true, Beatrice. I love you like I always have. Now please calm down and go find your friends. I'm sure they're waiting for you."

Being the big brother wasn't always easy for Caleb, but that didn't matter because it wasn't about him. It wasn't exactly a secret within Abnegation that Beatrice didn't exactly fit in. Their family tried to hide it (especially Caleb's mother), but it sometimes felt as if Beatrice just followed her own sort of calling. It wasn't as natural for her to help others like it was for Caleb. She undeniably had a big heart and she genuinely did care about others, but nonetheless, it was hard for her to follow all the rules. Caleb found that he'd spent their childhood making sure she was doing as she should, and even though he was now fifteen and she was fourteen, he still felt utterly responsible for her.

In a way, a part of Caleb felt like he'd always be watching her out of the corner of his eye.

"Caleb Prior?" As Caleb was about to go in line for food, he stopped as a man dressed in dark blue and square glasses called his name. "We need to speak to you in the Abnegation office."

A small twinge of worry washed over Caleb. No one ever really went to the Abnegation office. The Dauntless office was full of rule-breaking, danger-provoking Dauntless youth, but Abnegation children hardly ever got into trouble. They were selfless, after all.

"Is there a problem, sir?" They were on their way to the Abnegation section of the school, and the man with the glasses looked firmly ahead of them.

"No problems, Mr. Prior. We just need to have a word with you."

Caleb felt relieved that he wasn't in any trouble, and he felt a different sensation spread through his brain: curiosity. If he wasn't in trouble, then what did they want from him? Who would be talking to him, this Erudite man or someone from his own faction? Why was it that an Erudite was summoning him in the first place? Was it because they carried all the teaching responsibilities? Was it because all the Abnegation were too busy taking care of others?

As these thoughts continued to flood over Caleb, a memory sprouted from the back of his cortex: It's not up to you to ask questions. You are supposed to be quiet and accepting, not curious and questioning.

His mother had said those words nearly 4 years ago when he was eleven. Beatrice had exhibited the very same questioning tendencies that Caleb was experiencing, and their mother had shut it down and made Beatrice understand that it wasn't something for her to do.

When you're curious and want to discover information, you're doing that for you and not necessarily for others, so that in itself is technically a representation of the self. I said it's a representation of the self, but that doesn't necessarily equate to selfishness.

Caleb wasn't going to go there. Emptying his mind and controlling his breathing, he just wasn't going to go there. He had enough of his curiosity and enough of the pain. He was supposed to be quiet and accepting. It wasn't his place to ask questions and assumptions; it wasn't his place to defy any set judgment.

When they reached the Abnegation office, Caleb nodded to his Erudite companion and took a seat in front of the old wooden desk. Like most Abnegation possessions, it was probably refurbished. They didn't waste valuable resources on material objects, and as a bit of a stubborn afterthought, Caleb realized that this was the way that it should always be.

"Caleb." Turning around, Caleb saw to see Thomas Hanes enter the room, hand extended. Immediately Caleb jumped up and shook it, smiling in spite of any worries that troubled him. Mr. Hanes had been the Abnegation Head for as long as Caleb had been in school, and he had never done anything wrong or caused anyone to worry. He took care of things, and he was fair. That was all an Abnegation could ever hope for.

"I hope you're doing well, sir," said Caleb as he settled back into his seat.

"Yes, I'm doing very well, thanks. And you?"

"I'm well. Thank you for asking."

"That's good to hear." Mr. Hanes was smiling, but at this moment, he cleared his throat. "Now, I'm sure you're wondering why you've been called in today, and I think it's best if we get straight to the point."

Caleb's smile fell, and he felt his heart start to race as he slowly nodded and then leaned forward, his eye trained on Mr. Hanes'.

"Your teachers have shown me your test results and your research projects, and you're doing very well in school."

"Thank you, sir." Caleb felt a lump start to form in his throat.

"The thing is, Caleb," Mr. Hanes explained slowly, peering at him over the piece of paper in his hands, "is that you're just doing too well in school. You've outscored every single one of the Erudites" Caleb felt the color drain from his face. "It's admirable to dedicate yourself to your studies, but as I'm sure you can understand, it's not quite… natural for an Abnegation."

Panic started to flare through Caleb's system, and he didn't know what to do. It's true that he had been reading books under his covers every night since the moment he learned how to read, and it's true that acts such as that were forbidden for Abnegation children. His father had smuggled in books for him to read, and he had done it most discreetly. Caleb loved books and he couldn't live a single day without them, but he realized what this love had cost him and what was currently happening to him.

But now that everything was coming full circle and Caleb's academic brilliance was being questioned, he slowly emptied his mind and removed his emotions. He felt his face relax and the hair on his neck fall down, and he smiled.

"Caleb," said Mr. Hanes, putting down his paper and folding his hands on his desk, "have you been reading books outside of school hours for personal pleasure?"

"No, sir."

"It's okay to admit to it."

"I know, but I haven't."

"It's best to tell the truth."

"I am."

"There's no need to be afraid, Caleb."

"I'm not." He said that one a bit too harshly, and Mr. Hanes and the Erudite man exchanged glances.

"While we certainly are fond of you and have known you to be nothing but a model student and selfless role-model, we recognize the fact that you are still not from Candor."

Not from Candor? What does that mean? Caleb's mind reeled as he assessed the situation. What are they going to do? Why wouldn't they believe me?

"With all due respect, sir," said Caleb, trying desperately to resolve the situation, "I really feel like –"

"I'll take it from here, Mr. Hanes."

Caleb stopped just then. Behind him in the doorway, a low, clear voice rang out with perfect clarity. Mr. Hanes and the Erudite man looked over Caleb's head and then nodded. Very slowly, Caleb heard heels make their way across the tile of the room until he sensed someone standing right next to him.

"Hello, Caleb."

Looking up, Caleb felt a jolt of emotion run through his body and he felt his mouth go dry. Dressed in a navy blue skirt with a matching blazer was Jeanne Matthews, her eyes gazing down warmly at him.