DISCLAIMER: I do not own Divergent; Ms. Veronica Roth does.

Chapter Fifty: Easy, easy

A/N:

Sorry for not updating in a while… anyway here's Chapter 50 everyone… : )

Tobias's POV

"He's Marcus Eaton's son." The Amity boy was saying to an Amity girl. "He was what the newspaper's talking about. His father used to abuse him that's why he transferred to Dauntless. And until now… he's still afraid of him."

My hand clenched around the gun tucked under my belt, not because I was planning to shoot him but rather because it's the first thing I have reached.

"Lower your voice, Kurt." The girl murmured. "He might hear you."

"Why are they here at the first place, anyway?"

I tilt my head gradually onto their direction and met the boy's gaze. He tried to look away in order to act as if he's said nothing while I just kept my focus on him. When he couldn't tolerate the hush anymore, he returned the look.

"What did you just say?" I took a step closer.

The girl swallowed hard, moistening her lips every once in a while. Kurt, as what the girl said his name was, pulled out a casual face and said, "You were the one who killed a woman on an early age. That's you, right? You were at the news."

"Kurt," she nudged his elbow. "Stop it."

"W-why?" he turned to her. "Isn't it true?"

I took one more step to reach him, to grab the hem of his shirt, and in response, he cautiously walked backwards along with the girl. I almost forgot that we were in the Amity headquarters. With this kind of boy, who would think that this is Amity? The only thing that kept running in my head is that I hated what he said. I never want to hear the word son being linked with Marcus's name then referring it directly to me, again.

Kurt. I wouldn't forget that name.

And since he seemed as if he wasn't even that scared, I thought of teaching him some lesson. I grabbed the hem of his shirt, the course of act I had on mind, and leaned down to his face to send him warning.

Then Robert came running in the scene, separating us from each other.

"Here is the office." Robert says as we stand before a hardwood door. "Ms. Johanna Reyes is inside."

With furrowed brows, I turn to him. He seems a little intimidated when I watch him from head to toe and vice versa. I could actually take this chance to confront him about his sudden embrace to Tris but I decided to just let that pass and better ask him what on earth this is for.

"She's just going to talk to you." He clears his throat. "That's just it."

I roll my eyes, say no more, and twirl the knob open. I bang the door behind me. The office isn't even that massive like what I expected. It's quite big. There are a couple of bookshelves against the walls, containing piles of folders, papers, a few books, and mostly small pots of pansies. Also, an alignment of paintings is framed on the walls. But they aren't really what I came here for. I'm not standing in this four cornered room before a woman in a red crisp blouse and dark pencil skirt to stare at these artworks.

She must be Johanna Reyes.

"Tobias Ea—"

"Four," I corrected. "Four is my name."

Even from a distance, I could detect the long scar running from her eye to her chin, rendering her blind in one eye and giving her lisp when she speaks.

"Oh, sorry." She tips her head shyly and smiles. "Four. I'm Johanna Reyes, the representative of Amity. Have a seat."

I didn't follow her request immediately. I let myself stand there for a while, hands in pockets, looking at her levelly. At the corner of my eyes, I spot two Amity men. The one on my left is on yellow; the one on the right is wearing red. I glance at them just to find any sign of what is their purpose in this room but because of that friendly impression, I think this might be a little hard to guess.

"Four," Johanna calls again. "Have your seat."

"Why?" I ask nonchalantly. "Is this some kind of a principal office? Is this the same situation of a fifteen-year-old boy who broke a rule, was asked by the principal, and is going to receive his detention?"

"No," she shakes her head. "This is about you. And what happened back there outside."

I let out a hysterical laugh. "I'll tell you what. First, I'm not going to get my ass on that chair. Second, you might consider the idea of replacing me with that boy because right now, I prefer to leave this place. And third, I'm questioning how he passed the initiation here when he obviously doesn't reflect to this faction's manifesto."

"You know," she says. "We can discuss about it without any foul talking. But since you don't like to sit, then maybe you could lower your voice and calm down."

Lower my voice? I didn't realize that I've raised my sound by some means.

"So you want me to tell you what just happened." I say matter-of-factly. "Well. There was this boy talking about me—the news about me—to this girl. And I don't think I still have to name you that news since I'm sure that you are aware about it, aren't you?"

She nods. "I am. That was the paper that the Erudite has published."

Stupid Erudite. And the news that they have printed with my name. This is happening—all of these—because of that paper. By now, I could only think of fuming thoughts. Mentioning the name Erudite either mentally or verbally is like tasting venom, to me.

"The point here is," I stare right into her face, my voice fighting not to rise, but I figured that I have problem with that. "I don't want people lingering around just to talk about me, to judge my character, especially when they don't know who I really am. And I don't want to hear anybody linking my name to Marcus's name, recalling the awful experience that I had with him!"

"But Four – he's your father. And what has happened is gone. You—"

"You don't know me." I say firmly. "And you don't know what you're saying. It's not gone unless people stop exposing it."

"You just have to let them and they're going to stop, Four." She tries to say in an unruffled tone. "If not, you'd only get yourself to such trouble."

"I already am in trouble!" I blurt out. "I've been since I was left with him two years ago!"

"That was two years ago." She says. "You have made your choice and transferred faction. There's no point of going back in the past over and over again. The point is now. The point is about forgetting and forgiving and—"

"Enough of this!" I flip my gaze away from hers, shifted it on a wall where a painting is framed. "I don't want you to continue."

"Hey," she says again. I didn't look. "Hey." And this time, I heard a hint of warning on her voice.

I look back to her.

"What is that behind your shirt?" she asks. "Can you take it out?"

I didn't check or touch my shirt for I knew which she is referring to. She stares at it for a longer while, examining its shape.

"I'm pretty sure that's a weapon…. a gun."

"It's not mine." I say, bypassing yes. "It's one of the guards'."

"Give it to me." She orders. "You know that's not allowed here. Give it to me please."

"It might bang if I do so."

I am not underestimating her ability with holding a weapon on hand for I don't know if she knows how to operate a gun. I only said that to scare her off a little. Right now, the emotions have mixed. Her words of persuasion telling me to forgive Marcus didn't work. I knew, from the start, that that is where she's going to drive the conversation to. I also knew that she was trying to help. But none of the things that she's said changed my mind. They only made me feel worse.

"Don't talk like that, Four." she disturbingly says. "If I can't help you with what's bothering you then I could do it with calming you down. I – I know you won't bang that gun."

"I don't know." It's a simple line but I saw that it alarmed her even more. She keeps on staring at the item behind my shirt, probably wondering how she could get it from me.

Then she tries to pull the anxious face away. She settles her hands on the mahogany desk and I caught her making eye contact with the two Amity men on my sides. This got me thinking that she has a scheme.

The men reach for me. I can't tell who's doing this and who's doing that but one of them held me steady while the other one promptly plunges a serum on the side of my neck.

"It'll calm you down."