'Cause nobody seems to ask about me anymore
And nobody seems to care 'bout anything I think
And nobody seems to recognize me in the crowd
In the background screamin' "Everybody, look at me"

And I'm faded away, you know, I used to be on fire
And I'm faded away, you know, I used to be on fire
I'm standin' in the ashes of who I used to be
And I'm faded away, you know, I used to be on fire

I couldn't believe my luck when he told me he would be gone the while weekend. Apparently, the amity representative called in an impromptu meeting for just the head leaders of each faction – to clear the air as Johanna Reyes put it. I would have the whole house to myself, something that rarely ever happened. Or should I say – I had my house to myself. Because that's what it was now, that I had been formally married to Marcus Eaton.

The ceremony had been bland, like all of Abnegation, like the bland yellowish white dress I wore and suspected was worn by Four's mother back when she married him, but it was the first time since deflecting that I had seen a cake. It was small, sure, and more doughy than chocolaty but it was the highlight of the day.

No exaggeration.

I was glad when the small reception the faction held for us at the community center was finally over; the attention of all these people who genuinely congratulated us – me – it was unbearable. And the looks of the red headed one, whose name I had forgotten long ago, clearly fully of jealousy… I would have liked to tell her I would do nothing rather than to switch with her. She could have the fame of being the wife of the head of whole Chicago – it was nothing I craved, nothing I wanted. But I knew the coming night would be worse. It always was, but Marcus took his sweet time in claiming me his – unknowing that I could never be. That I only belonged to one person. One I thought to have seen, his face just a blur between the grey that greeted us as we left the council, but it couldn't have been him… He would never…

Sure, I could have left that day he waited for me in his kitchen, just walked out the house to join the factionless and live amongst them, getting glimpses into my brothers and friends lives whenever they were patrolling the sector. I could have gotten away from him, away from the memories of my unborn child and the hate that simmered deep inside of me, hidden beneath layers and layers of numbness, but what good would it have done? What was the sense in getting away now? No, before I joined the factionless after everything that happened, they would find me hanging from Marcus Eaton's ceiling.

Musing on these thoughts, thinking about how it reflected on him and his reputation, losing his second wife like his first, I was startled by a loud knock on the door. Getting up from the hard chair where I had selfishly wasted my time I hurried to the door, the knot in my stomach getting tighter with each step, hoping he hadn't come back so soon.

But it was Andrew Priors face that greeted me when I opened the door and the weight fell off my chest instantly. He smiled but it was strained, he was clearly stressed out. Curious to what he wants, I gave him a tight smile.

"Casey, I'm glad you're home." He started, declining when I asked him if he wanted to come in. "Marcus left a pile of files that need to be brought to the dauntless compound urgently. Mr. Harrison called a third time already; it has something to do with counts of the factionless."

I kept the smile on my face, gritting my teeth. Whatever he wanted, it was nothing good. "How can I help you with that, Andrew?"

The hesitation on his face was obvious – he didn't want to ask whatever was coming next. I knew what he would say before he opened his mouth. "We need someone to bring it over to the Dauntless but Marcus took the only car, the second one is still broken and no other faction member knows how to use the train..."

I inhaled deeply, staring at him, unbelieving. He would never let me go to dauntless by myself, by train at that! The thought of him finding out almost made me laugh out loud. A small spark inside my chest ignited, a sliver of who the old Casey was. But it disappeared as soon as I shifted on my feet and my back screamed at me, the scabs splitting with the smallest movement. The last meeting with dauntless on the weekend didn't go over to well and as he came home not finding his dinner ready because I had been helping an elderly woman clean her house all day I was on the receiving end of his short fuse.

I swallowed. "I'm not sure if that's the best idea." I really wasn't. I was weak, every part of my body was exhausted and hurt and meeting my family or Eric like that… The thought was almost unbearable but when I saw Andrews desperation at my words I smiled, reaching to tale the folder from him. "But of course, I will help you."

His smile was genuine and his shoulders sagged in relief. "Thank you so much, Casey. You're doing us a huge favor."

"We are all here to serve."

"We are." Andrew agreed with me, looking down at his watch. "They need it in an hour. The sooner the better."

"Of course." Saying my goodbyes, the large folder in hand I closed the door and let the smile slip from my lips. A flare of panic hit me, the folder heavy in my arms. Swallowing it down, I hurried to the wardrobe and pulled down the baggy grey jacket, wincing as the cuts on my back pulled painfully as I slipped my arms into the sleeves. Grabbing the folder, I looked down at the new watch Marcus had gifted me at our wedding, the word made me shudder, seeing that I had ten minutes until the next train would pass the Abnegation sector where the patrols usually got off. My stomach made a somersault at the thought of riding the train again. The last time I had jumped onto it was the morning of the choosing ceremony… almost an lifetime ago. Ignoring the trepidation, I hurried out the door, pulling it shut behind me, not bother locking up. There was nothing in there worth stealing.

The tracks were a good five-minute walk away and as I hurried, my breathing got labored fast. I was no longer used to the exertion, no longer dauntless. The train slowed down not significantly and I started running, the files pressed to my chest, afraid I wouldn't make it. But jumping on the wagon was easy, muscle memory, as I held on tight, pressing the button and letting myself fall into the empty carriage, cautious of my back. My heart was hammering in my chest as I slowly sat down, leaning against the rattling wall behind me. Closing my eyes, the feeling of freedom that washed over me was strangely exhilarating. It used to be so normal, taking the train. Now every time I had to go to the heart of the city, we took the bus, a cramped and slow kind of transportation. The train of the other hand… for me it was still one of the most dauntless things in this city. And knowing I could still ride it, could still get on, had a tiny part of the weight on my chest disappear. I hadn't fully forgotten how it was to be dauntless after all.

Way too soon it was time to get off again and I got up as the train slowed down significantly, slowly coming to a stop at the end of the tracks to let the dauntless with all their gear get on safely to go on patrol, pushing the button to open the door and jumped out. I grimaced. Alone the train ride that opened at least three welts, blood slowly soaking into the bandages. I was glad I had opted for changing them this morning and hoped they wouldn't bleed through the baggy dress. Ignoring the incredulous stared of the few dauntless around, I pushed through the door that was usually reserved for members of the factions. My lips pulled up almost invisibly, thinking I must the first non-dauntless to use that opening in years.

It was strange, walking through the corridors of my childhood. Nothing had changed, everything was the same old. Everything but me. It felt almost dreamlike, now walking through the pit and into the section of the offices, strange glances being thrown my way by members I had long forgotten the name off. I didn't know how often I had wandered the corridors in my dreams… I still knew my way around. The faces were familiar, but I met no one I really knew, and I was greeted by someone of Harrisons team as soon as I stepped into the office space. The dauntless woman came over, took the files out of my hand and left without so much saying as thank you. I stayed there flabbergasted, asking myself if I had really taken the train through half the city to get the files they needed and wasn't even thanked for it. I blinked, slowly shaking my head as I turned around – and ran right into Four. He stared at me, incredulous to find me in the heart of the compound.

"Casey."

"Four." Staring at him, I was about to push past him, but he grabbed my arm.

"What are you doing here?"

Sighing, I took a step back and he let go. "Harrison needed some files and the cars broken so… Goodbye Four." I pushed past him.

"Casey, wait!" He called, catching up to me after I had walked into the hallway. "Come with me."

It made me laugh. "The last time I did, it didn't end well for me. And by the way, I have to go home."

"Why?" Four asked, his hawk-like eyes looking down at me. "Is there something worth rushing home for?"

I narrowed my eyes at him, before shrugging my shoulders. There was no reason to go back to Abnegation so soon… but also no reason to stay here. "Why do you want me to stay? I know the way to the chasm myself."

"Funny." He remarked with narrowed eyes, his jaw twitching. "Let's go up to my flat." He started walking.

"Funny," I repeated, for some unfathomable reason following him to the living quarters. "if your father would hear, he'd probably skin me alive."

At the mention of Marcus Eaton Four squared his shoulders but didn't turn to look at me. "Come on." He muttered, rushing me through the hallways. I was out of breath once we reached his flat and he unlocked the door, ushering me in. Not having anticipated ever finding myself in Four's apartment, I looked around and had to shake my head. The simplicity of the mandatory furniture was so typical Abnegation, the only difference that most appliances were black.

We stood there in awkward silence, him obviously not knowing what exactly to say to me, now that he got me in his flat. Me, not wanting to get started on the subject.

"I'm sorry what happened to you." Four said cautiously after a few seconds and I looked at him through tired eyes, exhaling deeply.

"I'm sure you are." I didn't want to have this conversation. There was no longer relief in knowing he had suffered through the same as I did in the beginning. Because here he was now, away from the thing that once haunted him day and night, while I was still stuck, with no way to get out. Stuck because now and forever would I be Mrs. Eaton.

No longer the same because he had no idea how it felt to have him on top of you, his alcohol ridden breath fanning over your face while his grubby fingers started wandering.

I shuddered, trying to shake the imaginary touch off me.

"The factionless…"

I huffed, looking up at the ceiling before fixing him with a hard stare. "There's no use pretending." I interrupted him harshly. "We both know it was him."

Four swallowed, hesitating. "If it helps you to know… You saved hundreds of lives."

"It doesn't." He raised his eyebrows in shock at my harsh reply. "There were only two people I suffered through all of this for. The man I loved and the child I was carrying. The first now regards me as nothing more than dirt on his shoes and the second… is dead." The words almost couldn't leave my mouth, my breath hitching as I turned my back to him, not wanting to show my weakness. "Fucking shot them all, for all I care."

"You don't mean that." Four grabbed my arm, his voice low and full of pity and for the first time, I felt something other than anger and hatred push up through the numbness that made my life bearable. Unspeakable grief.

Inhaling sharply, I shook my head, trying to keep the tears at bay that slowly started to fill my vision.

"Of course not." I ground out, brushing a hand over my face. There was this overwhelming exhaustion sitting so deep in my bones, I wasn't sure it would ever go away again. All I wanted to do was sleep; sleep until this nightmare was over, or to not wake up again.

"Come on." He started guiding me towards the table and I recoiled a little, guessing where this was going.

"I really don't…" I started to turn to the door, but he interrupted me, his fingers on my upper arm, guiding while touching me as little as needed.

"If your back looks as bad as mine did after he was done with me, you need to have someone else look at it before it gets infected." He didn't listen to my objections, just cleaned the table off the vase and tablecloth, gesturing me to pull down my dress. I was hesitant but ultimately decided to trust him. After all, he was the only person in this city that knew a fraction of what I was going through. Asking him to unbutton the top part, I bent over the table, holding the dress in front of my breasts, closing my eyes. He warned me before carefully cutting through the bandages, inhaling sharply when it fell away. I gritted my teeth when he slowly traced an older scab.

"He must have been really angry. I can only remember a few times my back looked as bad as yours now…"

I snorted, finger turning white with m grip on the fabric as the biting sting of alcohol touched my freshly broken skin. "Don't take this the wrong way but I don't think he ever hated you as much as he hates me now." I ground out, trying to make humor out of this bizarre situation.

"Really, you're making this a competition?" I could practically hear him rolling his eyes.

"No." I closed my eyes, resting my head on the table. "Just saying, he killed my child." I think the sleep deprivation over the last few months finally started catching up with me.

"He killed my mother, too." Four was nonchalant and I stared up at him for a moment, before nodding and laying back down.

"Something to look forward to."

"Don't say that." Sighing heavily, Four was quick and skilled wiping the crusted blood from my back. "We'll find a way to get you out of there."

"In a body bag, maybe."

"Stop saying that!" He gripped my arm, pulling me up to face him. His expression was hard, an underlying anger shining through. "You are dauntless, remember? We don't give up, no matter the cost for our comfort, our happiness, our sanity."

"Not anymore." I whispered, averting my eyes. "When that drop of blood touched the stones, I became my own undoing."

For a moment everything was quiet.

"Why?" He asked, elaborating when I shot him a questioning gaze. "Why did you choose stone at all?"

I swallowed, taking a moment to contemplate if I should tell him. But why not? I had nothing to lose. Slowly, I pushed myself up until I was facing him. "If I would have chosen dauntless, I wouldn't have made it back to the compound."

"Of course, you would have." Four frowned, his prominent eyebrows pulled together. "You would have had no problem making it back to dauntless. You've been taking the train your whole life!"

"If Max tells me I would not make it back, I would not have made it back."

"You mean…?"

"Yes."

"That asshole." Four was about to run his fingers through his hair but stopped, realizing he was still wearing gloves. "They wanted you gone to have Eric under their control."

"What?" Pushing myself off the table, I stared up at him, asking myself what the hell he meant with control. "Why would you say that?"

"Because he has been unbearable." Looking down at me almost in pity, Four sighed. "His hate against abnegation and the factionless is through the roof, especially since you deflected... I don't think he would oppose slaughtering half of them when Max tells him to." Almost, as if on second though he added. "He made life for the abnegation transfer hell. Erudite had already delivered vials with a new serum… Their plan was well underway."

"Eric isn't a murderer." I stated, giving Four a hard look. "He is rough on the edges but not homicidal."

"Tell that the candor he dangled from the chasm because she defied his no yielding-rule, or the other one he caused to jump."

"What?" I stared at him in disbelief. It wasn't often that someone changed the rules of initiation. Those were traditional.

"Or when the transfer, whose nose you broke, hit a girl into the infirmary. He was just out for blood on that fight."

"Yeah, but that's dauntless." I sighed, something tugging in my chest. "If they can't handle a few bruises, they don't belong here."

Four suddenly narrowed his eyes, arms crossed. "Yeah, and if you can't sew you don't belong to Abnegation." Seeing me agree with an almost smile, Four rolled his eyes, his demeanor softening as he pushed me back down.

"Now, let me have a look at your back."

I was bent over his table, face on the wood, the clasp of my bra undone and Four was bend over me, disinfectant, ointment and gaze lying beside my hand when suddenly the door opened. Jumping away from me, Four turned around and I tightened the grip on my dress, as a blonde girl stepped into the apartment. Big, brown eyes stared from me, bare on the table, to Four who stood there, half-shielding my body with his, the gloves he wore stained with blood raised in a calming gesture. "Tris!"

"What is going on here?" Wide-eyed, she rounded the room, dropping her bag on the floor. Gathering up my dress, I tried to keep my modesty. To keep my scars hidden. But she came closer, gaze wandering from Four to me and back again.

"Tris, it's not what it looks like."

"You mean that's not blood on these gloves?" She raised one eyebrow as suddenly recognition flashed through her eyes. "You are her, right?"

"Her, who?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest, trying to keep her from seeing my back.

"Casey." She said, coming to a halt in front of the table. "The one who lives with… Marcus Eaton." Her voice grew quiet at the end and the both of us, Four and I, physically felt the impact of his name ghosting through the room. It was as if just mentioning his name brought back the terrors the both of us had lived through… Still lived through.

I shuddered, turning my head to the side.

"Oh my god." She breathed, her face filled with horror as she caught a glimpse of my back. She paused, before looking up at Four. "Let me help."

"No." I hurriedly pushed my arms back into the sleeves, not caring if the fabric would get stuck to my wounds. I didn't want, nor need her pity. It was something different with letting Four help me… He understood. But letting a girl I didn't know witness my greatest shame? No way in hell.

"You're not leaving." Four's voice was harsh, while Tris came closer, her hands raised in the air while he pulled the gloves from his.

"Casey…"

"Try stopping me." Gathering my things, I was about to flee the apartment when Four suddenly stepped in my way right in front of me. I recoiled, stumbling back and just managing to catch myself before falling.

Both of us froze, staring at each other.

"You know, I wouldn't… I'm not..." Four started, voice hoarse as he slowly walked backwards and I shook my head, already hating myself for making him think I was afraid of him.

"I know, I'm sorry. It's just…" I laid a hand over my eyes, shakily exhaling. "Habits…"

"Don't apologize." Four raked one hand through his hair, his desperation palpable as he spoke again, almost crazed. "If I had exposed him years ago, you wouldn't have to suffer through this now."

"Yes." I said, looking him in the eye. "And you would forever be the little boy whose father beat him up. No dauntless would respect you anymore, if they knew, Four. Just look at Eric." His name alone made Tris grimace.

"I understand, Four. There is nothing that you owe me just because he is an awful human being. But thank you," I really meant it and it had weighed heavily on me these last few months. "I was wrong, not liking you just because… my brother did. You're a good man, despite the only role model you had. Or maybe because of it." I gave him a sad smile.

"Please." He looked somewhat pained, so much so that Tris walked over and laid her hand on his biceps. "Just let me help you, Casey. I don't want you to go back at all, but I would feel better if we could treat your wounds. Whatever happens in this room stays here, we promise." He glanced at Tris.

"Of course." She added, nodding her head before smiling at me.

I swallowed, looking from one to the other. They had both so painfully obviously been raised by the abnegation that they had no idea how much these words meant to me, someone that had been raised their whole life to believe that accepting help was a sign of weakness.

I just sighed in defeat, turning back towards the table.

"Okay."

They made fast work of sterilizing the wound, putting ointment on and wrapping it with gauze that wouldn't stick to the wounds. Everything was quiet until suddenly Tris piped up.

"Do you know my mother?"

This time, I couldn't hold back a small, tired smile.

"Natalie? Of course. She is the nicest person I've ever met."

Four half snorted, half laughed. "Living in dauntless, I can only agree with you."

It was already getting dark when I was on my way out of the compound, not long until the bright lights would be replaced by the shine of the blue solar lights. I had avoided the pit, knowing that most likely my friends were there, drinking after a long day at the job. If I could still call them friends…

The news of my presence here must have traveled through the compound like wildfire, the murmurs as I walked past my former faction members rising and ebbing like tides. I was almost outside, only two corridors left to go when I ran into the person I wanted to avoid at all costs.

Puffing himself up to his whole height, Aidan stepped right into my way, arms crossed over his chest.

"What the fuck are you doing here, Casey?"

Looking up at him, I pulled the jacket tighter around myself. "I've had business to do here, Adrian. I'm on my way out." I tried getting around him but again, he stepped into my path.

"Are you now?" He sneered, mustering me from head to toe. Exhaling slowly, I braced myself for whatever atrocity would come out his mouth now. "You look like hell."

"Still better than you." I countered, pointedly looking at his stomach. "You should cut down on the booze and cake. The little pouch doesn't suit you, Ay-ay."

Twitching at the sound of his old nickname, back from where I couldn't say his name, Aiden looked down on his with muscles rippled abdomen as if he couldn't believe I'd call him fat. His ego was always his biggest weakness. And like always, it was the easiest way to rile him up.

"You better get going, back to your little house-wife-life. I heard you are Marcus Eaton's little plaything, now." If he knew it or not, his words were like daggers in my chest and I had to keep myself upright, trying not to let the memories overpower me. His next words were almost drowned out by the roaring in my ears. "Tell me, what's it like, shagging a leader? Or should I ask, how it is, shagging an old man?"

This time there was no stopping the flood of pictures and I had to close my eyes, suddenly back at the night of our wedding… How he heaved me up the stairs, his hands roaming over my thighs going up and up with no stopping them… His putrid breath fanning my face as he pushed into me, the disgusting feeling of his tongue sneaking into my mouth like a dead snail. His hands closing around my throat, threatening to pull out every single one of my teeth if I dared biting him again.

I felt the bile rise in my throat as I looked back at my so called brother and as I took a deep breath, all I wanted was to hurt him like he had hurt me.

"Why don't you ask your best friend?" The words left my mouth before I could stop them.

"What the fuck did you just say?" Aiden breathed, his eyes widened in shock… or disbelief. A punch to his face wouldn't have been as effective. "What the fuck did you just say?!"

I breathed out a sarcastic laugh. "Don't pretend you didn't know he's been fucking me since the day I turned seventeen. What? Didn't he tell you?"

By now I knew the face of a man about to strike. But in the last second, Aiden changed his mind, bowing down to hiss into my face. "Fucking leave! Leave and never come back!"

Swallowing, I couldn't help the small quiver of my jaw. "Don't worry." My voice was cold as ice when I finally managed to answer him. "I didn't plan on staying here, either."

"You're nothing but a traitor!" He spat, shooting the dauntless passing us, walking slow to keep up with the gossip a scorching glare. "You're a traitor and a coward!"

"And you're still the small-minded dickhead you've always been!"

Aiden suddenly gripped my wrist – the wrist he had injured while holding me down on the bathroom floor last week – pulling me towards him. I flinched back in pain and a flash of concern flitted suddenly over my brothers face. With a fast movement he pulled up my sleeve, exposing not just the scar from the time I was pushed down the stairs, but also the purple bruise wrapping around my wrist, almost in the shape of a hand…

We both stared at it, before our gazes met.

"What the fuck is going on, Casey?"

"That's none of your business!" I snarled, pulling my arm from his grip with all the strength I could muster. As if a switch flipped, Aiden's expression hardened, no trace of worry left as he straightened himself up.

"You're right. It's not."

"Goodbye, Aiden." I said, walking past him. I was already half down the corridor when his voice rang through the corridor.

"You know what's pathetic, Cas?" I stopped short, closing my eyes in the fear of what was to come now. "You didn't even ask how Mom is doing? Or dad? Do you not care one bit?"

I whirled around, now more angry than sad at him for bringing it up. How could he think I didn't care?! "You made sure I know I am no longer part of our family, Aiden. And maybe," I added, quiet now. "Maybe it's better that way."

"You're a selfish bitch." He spat on the floor, his face disfigured with disgust.

"And you are a coward." I shouted, my voice echoing off the uneven walls. "You hide behind words, Aiden! Always have. And there is nothing to back it up." I saw it in his face, the moment he wanted to backhand me. But for me, I hadn't felt this confident in so long. For the first time in months I could speak up without fearing to push someone over the edge of insanity. My anger wasn't even directed at him, he was just there. In that moment, I was angry at everything, the whole situation and everyone that let it come that far!

Angry at the man I loved. At the man I hated. At Max and that blonde bitch; at all of dauntless for being stupid enough to make him a leader, at erudite for being so power hungry… Yes, I was also angry at Aiden. For not supporting me, for never once asking what had caused my deflection, for shunning me, for telling me I was no longer family… But most of all, I was angry at myself for being so weak.

"Be careful who you call coward." Aiden sneered, looking around as if to check if someone was listening, afraid to look like a fool in front of his chosen faction, his family. "I'm not the one who got ambushed by a fucking factionless and let myself being thrown off the stairs without even trying to defend myself!"

His words hit me in the chest like a freight train, knocking the wind out of me. It was hard, catching my breath and as the numbness spread down into my fingers, I could only blink at him.

"I was pregnant."

"What?" Aiden's face fell and all traces of anger disappeared. He just stared at me, wide eyed.

I couldn't believe I told him. But there was no going back now.

"I was almost five months pregnant and he caught me by surprise." Gritting my jaw, I felt the words burn through my throat. "So, please, forgive me. For not being able to defend myself, pregnant and exhausted, while a man had his hand around my throat before he deliberately pushed me down a whole set of stairs. For coming back into consciousness while lying in a puddle of blood and having to drag myself out the backdoor so someone would find me. For being saved by a factionless and not just dying…

I must be the shame of dauntless."

Looking into his eyes, noticing nothing but shock and disbelief, I turned around and left without another word, with no glance back.

Dauntless was no longer the home it once had been. Now everything here felt as rigid as the stone the compound was made off.

When he had first heard of the attack, in that fucking broadcast by Eaton himself, where he played the savior and martyr at the same time, Eric didn't believe his act for one second.

No one, not eve him could catch his Cas by surprise, overpower her and throw her down a flight of stairs with being gutted himself. Not even while she was fucking sleeping.
He knew first hand, of course he did. He had been on the receiving end of her punches on one too many occasions he had slid into her room at night, trying to grope a feel. She wasn't hesitant to act first and ask questions later. Another one of the reasons why he loved her as much as he did.

But as of lately, he wasn't so sure if he knew her at all.

If anyone did.

He hadn't seen her in weeks, not from close up. Of course, he had always been there in the background where she couldn't see him, watching, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. Deflecting hadn't been her idea, of that he was sure. But why she acted the way she did was still a mystery, even to him.

He had been worried after hearing about the incident, so much so that he made up a reason to visit the hospital the day she her attack had been made public. Hell, he was close to shooting one of his own members just to be granted access to the hospital. Luckily for whoever had paid the price for his plan, he had been handed a report that needed to be backed up by the hospital stuff itself. So he took it into his own hands and left for the hospital.

He didn't get as far as the ICU though, it had irked him to no end. To make matters worse, the cameras in the hospital weren't accessible; even for him. He hadn't been able to work, hadn't been able to sleep and his already short fuse was almost non-existent. Eric was close to exploding. He had screamed at his secretary for putting cream into his coffee instead of milk and almost made her cry. From now on he would have to keep an eye out for spit…

His fingers tightened on the tablet, the screen turning blue where his thumb pressed into it, into the picture of her walking into Four's apartment this afternoon, his jaw clenching as he asked himself what the hell she was doing her – with her new stepson.

Cas was his; always had been. And he had given her the time she wanted, hoping that eventually she would come around and realize her mistake. But this… this had been going on for too long.

From the moment, she had stormed into his apartment that fateful night, that she was gone when he woke up an hour later… The fact that she didn't dare to look him in the eye any longer… He should have known something was wrong.

Eric had watched the feed of number boy taking her to a corridor where suddenly all cameras stopped working, at least a hundred times, trying to find the missing puzzle piece.

He had seen her spent her last night before the choosing ceremony all alone on that cold roof, such a stark contrast to how she looked like, handing out food to the factionless.

He had watched her from the shadows, watched how the grey slowly sucked the life out of her once vibrant soul. She had changed - the dark circles beneath her eyes, no longer a smile or a quick word on her lips. It was as if everything that made her his Cas had disappeared in a dark chasm. He asked himself if he even had the power to bring her back. If he held any power of her anymore.

What were they doing to her, behind those grey walls? Behind the grey walls of Marcus Eaton's shoebox he called house.

And what had she done in number boy's flat the whole afternoon? Was this what they had talked about - the old, slimy bastard? Eric had seen his fear landscape, seen the old Eaton walk towards him with a belt in hand. Was that what he was doing to his Cas, too? And why would she stay with him if he was?

If she wanted to be the wife of a powerful leader she should have stayed with him. Not once in all the time they were together had he laid hand on her. He never treated her anything less than the woman he wanted to spend his life with.

Eric snarled. He had been asking himself the same questions for months – and slowly he was starting to go insane.

His Thumb slid over her face on the screen. It was the closest he had seen her upfront since that leader meeting in the hub where he treated her anything but nice, trying to ruse her temper. He had to smirk again, remembering the little bastard Peter coming back from patrol with a broken nose.

The cameras zoomed in as she was leaving number boy's flat again, her movements stiff, eyes empty. He had closely observed her every move since she had set foot into dauntless three and a half hours ago but the expression in her face as she hurried through the corridors, face down, trying not to draw attention to herself was maddening.

He had tolerated enough already- but this, this was too much.

The screen of the tablet shattered against the wall of his office, falling to the ground while he grabbed his hear, pulling, his gaze searching for something else to destroy. It landed on the piece of paper that had fallen off his study in his fit of rage. The paper was crumbled, torn, but the picture was still visible, the text as enraging as the first time he read it. There she was, an insincere smile on her lips, her eyes emotionless, a smug grin pulling up the corners of his mouth. She was wearing a simple yellow-white dress, an old thing, her hair braided back; he in a better vest and shirt. The title - Abnegation leader marries his assistant - nothing but a mockery.

Married.

Eric scoffed.

She couldn't get married.

She already was.

Not that she knew, of course. But the moment Eric had decided for himself that she was his woman, he had filled out the form. The date of their marriage, her eighteenth birthday. And Eric knew, that there was nothing that would keep him from stealing her back. To get her to where she belonged.

Home.

Casey only loved one man - and fucking Marcus Eaton wasn't it.

Yes, Eric would get her home. But first, he had to find out what was going on. There were still pieces missing, pieces he didn't understand, parts he couldn't know of. And without those missing pieces, there was no way to decipher the puzzle.

Not yet at least.

But soon.

Soon he would take back what was rightfully his.

And not even the gods could withstand his rage when he was coming for her.

He was neither prepared for the door slamming open, nor that Aiden came storming inside like an angered bull. His chest heaving, he fixed his stare at the young leader, nostrils flaring as he postured in front of him.

"You fucking knocked up my sister?!"

With one step he was in front of Eric, knuckles meeting flesh with a sickening thud.

And as Eric lay there on the cold floor of his office, he smiled a bloody smile – until he realized that Cas was no longer pregnant. That he didn't know what happened to his child.

The smile turned into a sneer as blood dripped down his chin.

Another puzzle piece had fallen into place.