"You stick close to me and do everything I say." Tris nodded again at Four's instruction as they joined the group in front of them. Two large boxes were pulled out of one of the utility vehicles and opened, giving her an opportunity to look inside.

"Cameras," Four said to her as his crew looked over the contents, triple-checking that everything was in place. "We'll split into two groups to set them up. The Fringe is growing larger every day, with more and more people leaving the cities or spreading out from the center of the Fringe. The Bureau will monitor their movements, watch for any red flags." Tris raised her eyebrows. "Signs of Divergence," Four clarified.

She wondered what they could possibly see on the cameras that could give anything away, but as she looked up at him, she thought about the short time that she'd known Four. It struck her yet again how different he was compared to everyone else at the Bureau: he was strong and proud, intimidating even. He did as he was told, but he also didn't take no for an answer. Yet underneath that hard exterior she was seeing a softer side, glimpses of kindness. He didn't seem like the type to garden, but they had hung out in Amity often, getting their hands dirty. And he was patient with her, making sure she was always his priority. He stood out to her in the same ways her mother did in Abnegation: neither one seemed to fully belong anywhere. Tris wondered if she could ever truly find a place she felt connected to, a place where she belonged.

"Ready," Ruby said.

"Alright. Jones, Watson, Baker, Owens, Briggs — you're all with me. The rest of you head on out to the furthest checkpoint. I want radio contact at all times. In and out in an hour. Go." Tris watched as four people raised their weapons and fanned out, two more picking up a case and following them. They were like a well-oiled machine, and Four was their operator. She looked up at him; his eyes flicked back and forth between hers for a moment before he turned away. He lifted his gun, as did the others. "Move out."

They walked slowly, Tris never more than a couple of feet away from Four. Jones stayed behind them, and it gave her a small sense of security. The streets were empty, except for the occasional person standing outside looking like they wanted to kill every last one of them for what was inside the box.

"Why didn't we drive in?" she asked.

"Roads are hazardous. Holes. Burnt-out vehicles. Walking is unfortunately the safest way for us to get in and out." They turned down another street, heading the opposite way of the second group. As they walked, Tris took in the living conditions. Four was right: living factionless did seem like a luxury compared to what she was seeing.

Most of the windows were missing from the buildings, and she assumed inside wasn't any better. There were sometimes tarps or pieces of cardboard that covered them, indicating someone lived there, but the majority of the people seemed to live in small lean-tos that were placed against the buildings, fitting just one or two people. Tris stared as occasional people let themselves be seen. They were almost indistinguishable from one another: dirt, grime, tattered clothing, thin bodies, protruding bones. She didn't understand how anyone could allow them to live in these conditions. No matter what their genes said, they were human, too.

"What happens in the winter?" She knew there were times when factionless would freeze to death, when the wind blew dark clouds in and the temperatures fell. And those were people who at least had some access to adequate shelter, clothing, and food.

He looked over his shoulder. "They die."

Four saw the sadness in her face, but there wasn't any use in sugarcoating it. It was a hard life, and he thought everyone should know. He had always been hopeful that the Bureau would find what they were looking for, that he would see the day that people didn't live in squalor. He desperately wanted the day to come when everyone would have at least one meal a day and a roof over their heads. But as the years went on there was a small shift occurring ― the same shift he saw in David ― and he began to believe that even if they found what they were looking for, they still wouldn't care about these people. He knew firsthand what it was like to be considered an 'other', damaged goods. He never liked the idea that so many people felt exactly like him.

The tarps were becoming less frequent, the streets becoming slightly cleaner. The smell of garbage and urine was even fading. Tris saw a little girl looking out of a window and stopped to stare.

She looked no older than eight, but with malnutrition rampant in the Fringe, it was possible she was older. She wasn't quite as dirty as the others and still had a light in her eyes; Tris wondered if she had recently come here from somewhere else. Tris lifted her hand and started to wave, just as three gunshots rang out.

She ducked quickly and saw the little girl disappear. Jones was right on top of her, gun aimed in the same direction as the rest of their unit. "Come on," he whispered, and motioned for her to get behind him. He walked slowly, backing up into her and gently pushing her against a wall. She could see Four just on the other side of the intersection; she hadn't realized he was that far away from her. His eyes were locked on her as he put his hand up to his helmet.

"I know, goddamnit," Jones said as he pressed on the side of his own. Her heart was beating hard and fast and she could hear it in her ears. Logic told her that she wasn't the target, but that didn't stop her from worrying that whoever was shooting would hurt her simply because they could. Her eyes moved fast, taking in everything around her.

"Copy." Jones turned to her. "Okay. Shooter is down the street. Can't cross the intersection either way without risking them firing again. They're going to circle around wide and set up the camera while I get you back to base. Are you going to be okay?"

"Yeah." Her voice was full of uncertainty.

Jones frowned. "Just do as I say, and we'll get through this." She looked past him to see Four watching them. He gave her a nod, and the two of them turned around.

Four watched them for a moment, hating everything about the situation. Instinct had pushed him forward when the shots rang out when it should have pushed him back, towards her. Now she was stranded with Jones. Four knew he wouldn't let anything happen to her, and not just because he had threatened to kill him. Jones was a good man, and he knew what he was doing. He took one last deep breath and turned back to his unit.

"Briggs, Watson, out front. Owens grab the box. Baker with me." They moved forward in formation, guns drawn. Watson and Briggs advanced cautiously across the next intersection while the others waited for the all clear. As they progressed further away from the incident, they began to relax.

"Jones, status." Four's apprehension increased when there was a long silence. "Jones," he said, firmer this time, "Status."

"Three blocks out, waiting. There's some sort of commotion between two men."

"Copy." Four's apprehension didn't subside.

Tris waited around the corner, out of the way, as Jones kept an eye on things. Unless they backtracked, they were going to have to pass by the men. They were arguing ― over money it sounded like ― and things were getting more heated by the second. Most people were still hiding, but a few were braving the situation and coming out to watch. A few even seemed to be choosing sides. Jones knew that if any of them ended up dead, the others would scavenge the bodies for whatever they could take.

"We can go a few blocks back and work our way around or wait it out," he said to Tris when he came back. "Waiting it out would probably be quicker, but there's the risk of the two of us out in the open so close to this." Tris looked around. The buildings looked clear, but she had a feeling that could change in an instant; they were shot at in an area that had fewer people.

"We can head―" She was cut off by gunfire.

"Stay put," he said as he scrambled to look around the corner. Tris wasn't sure she could move even if she wanted to. She heard yelling as another shot rang out. "Go!" Jones turned, running at her. His eyes were wide as he motioned with his hand for her to move. She snapped out of it and turned, running as fast as her legs would take her.

"Shots fired! Multiple weapons!" Jones shouted into his comm as they ran. "Taking cover!" Without looking back, he could tell the situation was following them. People were peering out now as they ran past, even going so far as to throw garbage at them. When a shot ricocheted off the wall only inches from him, he knew they had to quickly find shelter somewhere out of sight. "Hide, Tris!" She heard him and turned down the first alleyway she saw.

It was long and narrow and abnormally calm for everything that was taking place. She slowed down and looked back; she was only hearing one set of footsteps. "Jones?" She tried to control her breathing as she waited for a response. Another gunshot rang out, closer this time, and her stomach dropped when she heard cheering. She pulled the knife from her hip as she stood there, alone.

"Jones? Jones!" Four pressed his helmet harder.

"Faster!" Ruby shouted, pulling the drill out of Watson's hands and taking over. She had finally gotten Jones to admit his feelings for her, and there was no way in hell she was going to stand around while something happened to him. "Done!" she called out. "Get that shit hooked up, now! We got two stranded out there."

Four appreciated her enthusiasm. He pulled her aside as he got in there, looking at the camera feed. "It's good enough. Leave the box, we need every gun. Let's go!" Briggs kicked the box aside as they moved out.

Tris walked slowly down the alleyway. Her senses were heightened, every noise turning her head in one direction or another. As she approached the end, she recognized the main street they had come in on; the van was no more than six blocks to her left. She walked more than triple that to the bus stop in Abnegation ― she could handle six blocks. She peered around the corner.

The first thing she saw was a burly, older man. He was the only person she had seen in the Fringe that didn't look to be on the verge of starving to death. He had a young girl pressed against a wall, and Tris could feel her uneasiness despite the distance. He said something to the girl; when she shook her head, he pulled his hand back and slapped her. Tris tightened her grip around the knife as the girl cried out. She took a deep breath and stepped out, only to be yanked back into the alleyway.

She raised the knife and turned to see a young boy holding his hands up in surrender. He shook his head slowly, then held a single finger to his lips. She heard a scream and turned to see the man, now joined by two others, laughing as they tore at the young girl's clothes.

"I have to help her," she whispered. The boy shook his head rapidly and motioned for her to follow him. She had no idea who this boy was, but he seemed to be looking out for her, and Tris's instincts told her she should trust him. She took one last look at the girl, a surge of hope racing through her as another man entered the mix, voicing his objections. The three men turned their attention to him; he seemed to know what was coming. He stood still as they took turns punching him. Tris didn't know what to think as they continued their assault on the man who was clearly unconscious now, but the girl was nowhere to be found. She turned back to the boy; he had tears in his eyes, and her heart broke at the sight. He motioned again, and this time she followed.

He took her through a door she hadn't noticed before. It was dark inside, and it smelled even worse than the streets. Tris followed him up a flight of stairs; to her relief there didn't seem to be anyone else in the building. She was led into a small room that was moderately cleaner than what she had experienced so far.

"Is this where you live?" she asked. The boy nodded. "It's nice." The boy gave her a small smile that she returned. He offered her the only chair in the room; she sat to be polite. He held up his finger and left the room, and Tris was worried when he didn't come back right away. She heard footsteps and raised her knife ― it was the boy with a mug of water for her. She smiled and took it, setting it on the floor.

"How old are you?" He held up ten fingers, then another three; she scrunched her eyebrows when she realized he hadn't said a word. "Can you talk?" He shook his head. "Oh. I'm sorry." He shrugged and it made her smile. "I wish you could tell me a little about what it's like out here," she mused. "I'm supposed to be out here learning what makes me so different from you. They think I'm someone who can save everyone, only I don't feel like I am." The boy watched her, an amused look on his face.

It was obvious to anyone with two eyes that she was different from the men out on the street, but what made her so different from the boy in front of her? He had pulled her to safety when he saw that she was in need; it was something she would have done without thinking twice. The Bureau would probably brush it off or attribute it to her Abnegation values, yet this boy did the same thing without ever having been in the city. The Fringe didn't seem like a place that taught this type of behavior.

"Do you know the word Divergent?" He shook his head. "That's okay. It's not important anyway." They sat in silence for a while. She thought about leaving or trying to watch from a window, but the memory of the men kept her locked in place. The boy tilted his head to the side for a moment, and held up a finger as he left the room. When he returned his eyes were wide, and he motioned for her to get up and follow him. She stood and crossed the room.

She was confused as his thin fingers clawed at the wall, until a piece of it broke away. He slipped inside and motioned for her to do the same. She stepped forward, realizing she wouldn't fit with the vest and helmet. She scrambled to get it undone, now hearing voices that were getting louder by the second. The boy stepped out and pulled her helmet off, setting it next to the wall. She slipped the vest over her head and he took it, setting it with the helmet and pulling a tattered blanket over them. If anyone looked closely enough they would see it, but it would have to do. He pulled her inside the wall and they placed the piece back just as a loud laugh echoed through the room.

"That little mute fuck ain't here," a raspy voice said. "I thought I saw him in the alleyway."

"Maybe he went to go take a shit," a deep voice said, and they laughed. "You wanna wait or what?" Tris silently prayed that the men would leave. She didn't know how long she could stay silent, stuffed between two walls in pitch blackness, or how long the team would wait for her before they assumed she was dead and left for the Bureau.

"Eh. We can wait a few."

The seconds felt like hours as Tris willed the men to leave. They talked about some of the most vile things Tris had ever heard, and it took everything inside of her to not push the wall open and throw her knives into their beating hearts. She had never thought herself capable of killing, but if even an ounce of what she was hearing was true, these men deserved it. She closed her eyes and rested her head against the wall.

"Four." The communication halted the group. "Four, it's Jones. Do you copy?"

"I copy," he said. "Status?"

"In control. Six blocks west of base."

"Tris?" Four panicked when there was no response. "Jones, status."

"MIA."

Ruby immediately turned her head towards Four. "Last known location?" she asked, a hand pressed against her helmet.

"Five blocks west of base."

"Stay put," she said, and Four nodded. "Rendezvous in five."

"Copy."

They walked as fast as they could. The sun was dipping dangerously low; in another hour, they would have to call off their search. The Fringe was an unpredictable haven for violence and debauchery at night, and their chances of escaping unscathed lessened as each minute passed.

"Team two, status," Four said into his comm.

"Package delivered. Awaiting orders at base."

"Leave two to guard. Pull the rest six blocks west."

"Copy." The more he had looking, the better their chances.

Tris was relieved when she heard the voices in the room start to move away from them. She let herself relax until she felt a soft hand on her arm. The boy brought her hand up and set it on his face; she felt him shake his head. "Okay," she whispered. They waited for a long time in complete silence, until the boy nudged her side. "Now?" she asked. He put her hand on top of his head and nodded. She felt in front of her until the small seam was under her fingers, and pushed. The air was cool and she inhaled deeply, happy to be out of the small space. She helped the boy put the wall back together.

"My people will be looking for me." The boy nodded. He walked to the door and tilted his head again, motioning for her when he felt it was clear. They crept down the stairs and waited near a window. There still weren't many people out, and she hoped it would work in their favor. Only a few minutes passed before the first sign of them came.

"Tris!" She heard her name called out from somewhere, and turned to the boy who pointed at her, a questioning look on his face.

"Yeah, that's me," she said. The boy smiled. "Come with us," she urged, but the boy shook his head. He pointed out to the streets, where the woman had been accosted and held his hand over his heart. "Are you sure? I know it's scary to go somewhere you've never been, but you can do it." He gave her another smile and nodded.

"Tris!" Her heart began to beat harder when she recognized who was calling for her.

"Four!" she yelled back. She gave the boy one last smile and turned, pushing the door open.

He felt like his heart stopped the second he saw her face. His feet were moving, his arms pulling her into him as if they had done it a thousand times before. His pulse raced as she placed her hands along his sides, her fingertips dancing along the only spaces that weren't covered by his vest. He was warmer than she expected, and his hands spread wide against her narrow frame. She angled her head up slightly, the proximity of his neck daring her to find out how it would feel to press her lips against it.

"Jones?" She whispered, the hot sting of tears in her eyes.

Four shuddered as her breath ghosted over his neck. "He's fine." He pushed her away, holding her out at arm's length to look her over. "What about you? Are you hurt?" She shook her head. "Where's your vest? And your helmet?" He placed his hands on each side of her face, gently turning her head side to side.

"I'm fine," she insisted. "I had help. I had to take them off to hide."

He expected her to look terrified, but she had a calmness about her ― one he almost envied. His thumb traced a soft line across her cheek; she closed her eyes, and what he was feeling left him at a loss for words. He had never been so scared in his life, not even when his mother was sick and dying. But now that she was here and she was safe, he could only pull her into him again. There would never be a better feeling in the world than his head resting on top of hers, and her hands moving softly over him. He never wanted to let her go, but as Jones and Ruby rounded the corner, he did.

"Tris!" She wiped her eyes as she turned around. Jones had his arm around Ruby, who had a wide smile on her face. "I'm glad you're okay."

She smiled at him and nodded. "You, too. For a second there, I was afraid they got you."

"Nah. I got them first. Can we get the hell out of here now? I am so done with this shithole."

Tris frowned at his choice of words. She knew he didn't mean anything by it, but she turned to see if she could find the boy again. She didn't even know his name, and she owed him her life. "I need to get my vest."

She led Four up the stairs; the boy was nowhere to be seen. She picked her things up, and ran her hand over the hidden door. "Thank you," she whispered. She didn't know if he was in there, but if he was, then he didn't want to be found.

A/N:

Just wanted to drop in a thank you for all the wonderful reviews you guys are leaving. I appreciate every single one of them. And I hope there was enough action in here after 10 chapters of 'wtf is going on?!' haha. Don't worry. Next week is filled with a lot more goodies to start unraveling some of the mysteries in this story. ; D

Side note: if you guys haven't checked out Something New by Inopinion, you totally should. It's so full of angst, your head might explode. And if angst isn't your thing, you can always check out the fluffy stories of cjgwilliams. See you next week!