You guys guessed it. Well, most of you xD Nick is the one who injected Tris and he is working for the rebels. Tris doesn't know that because the serum wiped a part of her memory so that Nick would be safe from her knowing and ratting him out.

"Why would I try to put my girlfriend into a simulation? Does anyone around here have common sense?" Peter asks, glaring at Al. He is the higher authority around here and when he tries to talk back, it unnerves me.

"Save your questions," Al says calmly, watching one of the soldiers tapping the needle with truth serum in it.

They have tried to gather everyone who had interactions with me in hope of finding the person who actually injected the neurotransmitters into me, allowing me to be controlled. I would tell them who it was, but apparently my memory has been wiped and I do not recall anything that could suggest I was drugged.

As far as I know, the latest suspects are Peter, Nick, Christina and the soldiers I do not know the names of yet. I will be acquainted to them in the truth trial. Al has figured that Nick is the most unlikely criminal. The person with the courage to do something like that would be Peter because of his history. He has tried to murder people, and was very aggressive, but he isn't now. Why can't they believe him? I am leaving Christina out of the question. She is my best friend, and even though they will interrogate her, she will not have a bad thing to say about herself.

I play with my fingers as Peter takes his seat near a table, muttering threats to himself. I was forced to sit on the other side of the 'Conference Room' (which I did not know existed in the safe house), just in case Peter tried to attack me. I couldn't help but roll my eyes at this remark. There are five other people in the room: two soldiers standing by my sides, two soldiers standing behind Peter and Al who is sat opposite the suspect.

I give Peter a small smile in hope of easing some tension. He smiles back.

"Why would you be nervous if you have nothing to hide?" Al asks, leaning forward on the table.

"I'm not. Let's just get this over with," Peter says. I sigh, remembering that he was Candor-born and was used to these trials. He has done this before. I clench my fists as the soldier behind Peter injects him with the truth serum. He scrunches his face up as perspiration becomes visible on his forehead.

"How are you feeling?" Al asks.

"Interrogated," Peter glares in his direction, running a hand through his hair.

"Let's begin then," I watch as Al leans back in his seat and takes a deep breath, "What's your name?"

"Peter… Hayes," he pauses slightly, getting accustomed to the serum.

"What faction are you from?"

"I was born in Candor and transferred to Dauntless at the Choosing Ceremony," his voice is steady. They have to ask these questions, right? Just to make sure that the interrogator knows when the suspect is lying and how he tries to hide the lie.

"Peter, when did you first meet Tris?"

"I first saw her at school… two years before the Choosing Ceremony," he furrows his eyebrows in concentration, "And we had a variety of classes together, but we didn't yet know each other. Then when we transferred to Dauntless, and that's when we first met." I release the air I was holding and glance at the ground before looking back at Peter. He has absolutely nothing to hide. But for the sake of people not thrashing away from him, I hope Al doesn't mention anything about him trying to kill me at one point.

"Did you try to harm Tris Prior in any way?" Well, crap. This is just what he needs. I watch Peter's face tense up and he releases a quiet groan as he holds back. Then he sighs and confesses.

"I did when we were initiates… but… ah, not… n-not when I found her on the road," Al notices his hesitation and decides to touch on the subject again.

"Harm her in what way, Peter?"

The soldiers near me step closer, evicting an eye roll from me. So protective. Peter glances in my direction, contemplating for a moment if he should say something. I nod towards him and he frowns.

"I tried to kill her," Peter confesses. Al raises his shoulders in panic, and I realize that this is brand new information to him. He looks my way before focusing on Peter again.

"Right…" Al trails off, sighing, "I assume that your feud is no longer present. I will trust Tris to come to me if you ever try to abuse her-"

"I'm not going to abuse my girlfriend!" Peter shouts, gripping the end of the table. I can feel his irritation.

"This case is closed," Al concludes, "Nick is next. Find him." He stands up and leaves the room without another word.

I get up and rush over to Peter, throwing my arms around him. He hugs me back tightly, letting all the tension induced by the trial leave him. I chew on my lip as he gets up without unwrapping his arms. The soldiers left the area, so I and Peter are the only ones here now.

"It's alright, they don't suspect you," I try to comfort him.

"Yeah, but they're going to keep an eye on me for sure," he says. My mind focuses on the culprit. It has to be one of the soldiers. My heart races at a thousand miles per hour. One of the soldiers is the rebel. And he is in the building.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

Christina finds me an hour later in the coffee room. I tell her everything that has happened, from the point of me being in a simulation, to the point where Peter's trial ended. She listened to me carefully, nodding her head along as her hand played with Phil's ears. For a dog, he is very human-like. His eyes are like Christina's: brown and witty.

"I wonder who could have done it," she wonders, leaning her chin in the palm of her hand. I shrug at her and finish my drink, placing the cup in the middle of the table.

"Are you nervous for yours?" I ask. She laughs and shakes her head.

"No! It's ridiculous," she answers, "But I guess if it's just for precaution, nothing bad can happen. I will tell them everything but I doubt that I will end up confessing to being a rebel. Because you know… it's not true." I smirk at her. She's right; she won't hesitate like Peter did. She never tried to hurt me.

After a minute of staring into the distance, she begins: "I'm sorry for being a bitch. You can date whoever you want."

"Christina, we are past that now," I lower my voice mainly because Peter is in the corner of the room. I told him to join us, but he said he would rather hang himself than sit at the same table as, and I quote, "Christopher Loud-mouth".

"Yeah, I know but, I still feel kinds bad," she smacks Phil's snout as he starts chewing on her shoe. I smirk when her dog gives her a sad look and walks away to sit next to someone else.

"Don't, its fine," I say. I watch her polished fingernails dance around the top of her steaming cup. She hasn't touched her drink yet. I wonder how it is for her. This whole conflict with the rebels. Is she scared? Does she dismiss every hint of hazard? For all I know, she could be braver than me.

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