One to go. I'm about to go see Insurgent, and the last chapter/epilogue will be posted sometime tonight, along with a little surprise…
Breaking The Habit
Chapter Forty-Nine: Separate
Eric
Despite the fact that I am (or was) one of the most important people in Dauntless, all of my worldly belongings manage to fit in one bag. Every piece of clothing I own, most of which are ragged and torn. The box that holds my syringe and a tattered strip of one of Christian's shirts, and a skimpy dress that had been Asher's. A few first aid things, mostly bandages and disinfectant, because I know I'm going to need them. And lastly, hidden under a loose tile in the bathroom, a stack of photographs.
Having access to a camera is rare in Dauntless, and physical copies of the pictures are even rarer. But Ivoree had one for years, passed down by her parents. More recently, she'd been using it to take pictures of Asher's finished tattoos for the design book she kept in the parlor. Two years ago, though, she'd been using it to document initiation, and her gift to me when I was announced as a leader was the pictures she took.
At the top of the stack is our entire initiate class. I remember wondering how she'd managed to get all of us together, but she had. In the picture Asher has me in a headlock, and both of us are grinning widely. It's been forever, it seems, since I smiled like that, purely happy without worrying about what would come next. I sigh a little as I flip through the rest of them. Most of the photos are candids, either of us making ridiculous faces in the middle of sentences or so blurry I can barely tell who is supposed to be in them. It's rare that one of us is actually looking at the camera. The second to last photo is of me, flanked by Asher and Christian, both practically hanging off me. It hurts to look at it, knowing either of them are alive now. Especially Ash. Every time I re-realize she's gone, it's like a knife to my heart, because in so many ways I feel as if she's still here, and any second she'll walk through the door. Blinking back tears, I move it to the bottom of the stack.
The last picture is of me and Four.
I have to stare at it for a few seconds before I recognize us. There was a reason this one was at the bottom, I remember, because a year ago I would have gladly erased any proof that we were friends, but I couldn't bring myself to destroy any part of Ivoree's gift. We look almost…happy, though, to be sitting next to each other in this picture. At least, we weren't trying to kill each other. It's strange to look at, knowing that there was a time when our little group actually got along. Before Christian died, and we split in half, Camp Four and Camp Eric. I wonder, now that everything's gone to hell, if we'll be able to get along again.
The thought of the two of us being friends is so strange that even now, on the train heading to Candor, I've taken the photo back out to stare at it again. I keep thinking that maybe if I tilt it a certain way, the truth will reveal itself, and the picture will show how we came to hate one another, each of us constantly blaming the other for Christian's death. If he knew how much I actually blamed (and continue to blame) myself, this might not have happened. But it did, and it's too late to fix it now.
Suddenly, the horn of the train blares and I shove the photo back into my bag, getting up as quickly as I can on an injured foot. Looking out the window, I see the lights of Candor headquarters. I can't look far enough ahead in the darkness to tell if Christina is waiting for me by the tracks, but either way, I have to jump now. If I don't, I risk missing her entirely. So, with a deep breath and my bag firmly secured on my shoulder, I get a running start and leap off the train.
Landing on my injured leg is more painful than I imagined. Instead of remaining upright as I'd wanted, I fall to the side, gripping my foot tightly in the hopes that pressure will dull the pain. It makes my nose smart as well, even though I set it and it will heal properly. This isn't the first time it's been broken. After a minute, I rise to my feet. The pain isn't as important as the worry I have for Christina that is gnawing at my insides. I need to find her.
"Eric?" I look up, and she's standing a few feet in front of me. She approaches me cautiously, hands held out in front of her like she's trying not to startle me. "Are you okay?"
"I think so. A little dizzy, though." Not to mention listing severely to one side because there's a fucking bullet hole in my foot. I limp up to her and pull her against my chest. A huge weight has just been lifted off my shoulders, and I can finally breathe again. "I can't even express how happy I am to see you."
"Yeah," she says, muffled against my shirt. "Me too." She leans up to kiss me, and for the first time I'm not consumed by the nagging worry that someone is watching us. It doesn't matter anymore. Jeanine already knows, and for now she'll hopefully be content with the fact that we're physically splitting up. If Christina stays here, at least for a while, she'll be safe. In the back of my mind, I know not even Amity will be able to stay out of this war for long, but I'm willing to take any opportunity I see to keep her out of harm's way for a few days.
With a groan, I push her away, just far enough back that I am able to see her face. She frowns and reaches up to touch my cheek. "Did you break your nose?"
"Close. The traitor Dauntless broke my nose." She opens her mouth in anger, then closes it. I understand. The thought of an entire half of our former faction siding with my bitch mother would make anyone in their right mind sick. "Hard to believe, isn't it?"
"I mean, I always knew the Dauntless were crazy," she comments. "But I never thought they would be this crazy. Minus the mind control." She pauses and looks around nervously. "Maybe we should go somewhere more sheltered if we're going to talk about this."
"Agreed."
She takes my hand and leads me to the tattered awning of an old building .We sit under it, backs to the decrepit brick, fingers intertwined. I know it's only going to be that much harder to let her go now, after spending this time alone with her, but I can't leave without saying goodbye.
"You know I have to leave," I say softly, against my will.
"I know." She idly traces patterns on the back of my hand. "I wish you didn't have to. But I understand." Silence for a moment, while we drink in each other's presence. "I have something for you."
"Do you?" Despite the sadness gathering behind my eyes, I smile. Even though I ruined her life and we're in the middle of a war, she still cares about me. "What is it?"
She hesitates. "I'm not sure you're going to like it…"
"I'm sure I will," I reassure her, while wondering what it could be, that it would cause her to act like this.
"Okay." She reaches into her pocket. "I was going to give it to you before…everything happened, but I guess that doesn't matter now."
She pulls it out and holds it up, and now I understand her hesitation. I stare at it unblinking, trying to comprehend the fact that she's offering me a vial of Instigate.
