A/N: Long time no update, huh? Sorry about that! This chapter was pretty challenging because I've never written from Peter's POV before so I wasn't sure how to phrase things in a way that sounded less like me and more like an angsty teenage boy. This is sort of a filler chapter, after all, the first five chapters were written from Tris' POV so Peter has some catching up to do. Let me know what you think of Peter's narration.

Enjoy!

Chapter 6: Let It Burn

Peter's POV

I'm thinking it through
I'm thinking of you
Try to remind myself to move
The nightmare unfolds
Should have never let her go
Alone in this empty room
Let it burn

Let it Burn- Ignite

I walk into the control room at 7:58 am. I slept a grand total of three hours last night between warning Tris of the plan and then thinking of all of the possible ways this could go wrong. I guess it didn't seem too extraordinary compared to the whopping average of 5 hours of sleep I get a night. Every night's the same: I settle in to bed at 11 pm and stare at the ceiling until I fall asleep. In those waking moments, instead of seeing a rocky ceiling above me, images of suffering and death cloud my mind and haunt my dreams. Nightmares of the brutal murder of my mother and worst of all: Tris body crumpled to the floor, lying in a pool of blood, her blond hair fanned out behind her in a halo, blank blue eyes staring into me, accusing me of her demise. The image seemed permanently burned into my retinas, my only relief from the nightmare was seeing her alive and breathing in the initiate dorm room.

It was selfish to think, but I preferred her alive and close instead of her dead or in the hands of Jeanine Matthews, even if it meant we both had to suffer. It doesn't stop me from wanting to rip my hair out every time I remember Eric putting his filthy hands on her. The hurt and betrayal in her eyes when I helped Eric hold her down made me feel like a monster. The only thing worse than the monster raping her was the monster who saw the whole thing happen and did nothing. I'd been convinced that there was something wrong with me from a young age; I witnessed countless acts of cruelty, and did nothing. We live in a cruel world; in the end time will fuck everyone over, so why bother trying to step in. If anything I thought was doing them a favor, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, right?

Before my father left my mom and me, he'd been similar to the slimy, manipulative bastard Eric is, except he was completely predictable. He'd stumble into the house after a night of drinking while everyone was asleep and our tiny candor apartment would burst with angry shouts as he dragged my mother out of the bedroom and threw her against the wall of our living room. Everything was her fault in his eyes: she was responsible for his alcohol addiction, trouble at work, you name it. My mother never did anything about it either; she'd keep a straight face while he beat and abused her until he was too exhausted to continue and passed out on the couch. Then, she'd straighten her clothes, wipe away the blood, tears, and evidence of my father's abuse, and go back to bed. My father would wake up the next morning hungover and she'd prepare him breakfast and we'd all act as if nothing happened. With Tris, everything was different. I had to fight the urge to shoot Eric when he dumped Tris' beaten form on the dormitory floor the day he kidnapped her, as if she were a sack of potatoes and not an injured person. Something inside me snapped when I saw her struggling beneath him, fighting like a trapped animal, something I suspected to exist but refused to let surface underneath the countless layers of nonchalance. I was in love with Tris Prior and I'd be damned if I didn't do something to help her.

I thought she would be a weakling in the beginning, someone who I could easily pick off on my way to the top but she proved to be one of the strongest. It didn't make sense; how could such a fragile looking girl be filled with spitfire and passion? The feelings I have for her are mixed: sometimes I feel the overwhelming need to protect her, while other times I just want to slap sense into her. At first I thought she was your typical, uptight, Stiff but she proved to be the exact opposite. I tried to cover my interest in her when we were initiates by bullying her. She would have never looked my way or said a word to me if I didn't. I tried justifying beating and terrorizing her, but I ended up hating myself more. I admit, I was weak and stupid for trying to scare her by dragging her over the chasm. I never intended to drop her but things went too far too quickly. She knew right away it was me and I feared she'd hate me for the rest of my life, when all I wanted was for her to notice me.

I dressed her wounds while she unconscious, and applied healing salves to help her wounds heal faster. I admired the curves and edges of her body: her pale soft skin, her tiny delicate frame that was more than capable of defending itself, and the innocence that seemed to radiate from her despite her attempts to seem tough. I fought the temptation to hold her small, calloused hand in my rough one. I sat by her still form and talked to her; apologizing for my stupidity when we were initiates, telling her I wanted her to trust me, and how much I hated working for Eric. I knew she couldn't hear me but occasionally she would furrow her brow, creating a little crease between her eyebrows as she struggled against something in her sleep and said several names in her sleep: Tobias mostly but also mine. She didn't say my name the way I was used to hearing it come from her lips, full of hate and malice, but soft and breathless. Maybe somehow, somewhere, she didn't think I was a complete tool for what I did. Zeke caught me spending too much time with her and asked me to join him and Tori in taking down Eric, Max, Jeanine, and the Erudite and Dauntless working for them. Joining them was probably one of the easiest decisions I've ever made in my life.

There had been trouble at the gate in the early hours of the morning; Zeke had pounded on my door at 4am to tell me all about it. A couple dauntless rebels, who wanted to make their way to Amity, started a brawl with the other Dauntless stationed there. It was a hot mess, according to Zeke. Our side was armed with guns while the other wielded gardening tools. Two of our men were taken down in the spat and were currently lying in the infirmary, nursing their wounds. Apparently a gardening hoe can be a pretty lethal weapon. Eric had been at Erudite headquarters when it happened and hadn't been informed of it yet. Technically it was my job to let him know when something like this happens but I can hardly stomach being in the same room as him. The old me would've probably admired him, climbing the ranks from an initiate to a dauntless leader in a mere two years—but the war has changed me.

I made an effort to look well rested this morning, but my efforts were in vain. Strong coffee and a cold shower can only do so much for a tired body. Felix, the Dauntless guard currently on duty, looked relieved when I entered the control room. No one likes working the night shift. His large body dwarfed the computer chair under him. He was built like a tank, but preferred the control room to the front line. I can't say I blame him. Tori, Zeke, and I would benefit from having him as an ally but it's too hard to tell which side he's on. For what I can assume, he couldn't care less about the Erudite agenda and finding "divergent scum," but didn't want to betray his faction or the leaders he's known all his life. I couldn't risk him finding out about our plans which is why I chose to warn Tris in the dead of the night, when I knew Felix was passed out. Felix was just another predictable human being, he usually fell asleep within an hour in to the night shift

"Nothing happened with the Stiff." He yawns and gestures to the biggest screen behind him. I can see the faint glisten of drool on his chin. He must have been sleeping only moments before I walked in. "She slept like the dead." I smirk and fight the urge to comment that she wasn't the only one.

"I'll take over from here. You look like you need some rest." Felix nods in silent agreement and rises from his chair. He gives Zeke, who had just arrived, and friendly slap on the back on his way out. The two of them seemed to be on good terms.

"Take it easy, Big guy!" Zeke calls out to his retreating form. Zeke was a pretty damn convincing actor. All he had to do was flash a grin and act chummy with someone until they trust him completely. Nobody disliked Zeke, even Max who seems to dislike anything and everything. He turns to me, "How's she doing?"

"She looks like hell," I say, zooming the camera in to get a better look. She has her brow furrowed in her sleep again, her lips in a child-like pout. She grasped the thin blanket firmly in her hands, shivering. I make a mental note to get her a warmer blanket. Winter was on its way and we have no idea how much longer we'll be here until we can escape.

"She's living in hell," Zeke says solemnly. He sits at the computer screen next to me and skillfully brings up camera footage from the last time we worked. We've all been keeping an eye on Eric and Max, plotting our attack based on their actions. Max was in his office flipping through a few papers and Eric was still in a meeting with Jeanine.

Zeke and I sit in the control room for the next hour watching the screens change to different locations every 10 seconds but dedicating a screen specifically to watch Tris. The compound was nearly empty—most Dauntless were either guarding Jeanine Matthews, at the fence, or patrolling around Erudite headquarters. The pit seems lonely and desolate compared to what it looked like when I was an initiate—the place was always filled with echoes of loud music, exaggerated stories, and drunken laughter. What was once the grand central station of Dauntless activity is simply a large empty cavern with the chasm roaring underneath it. The empty areas made my job in the control room easier, but boring. I was offered the opportunity to be a personal body guard for Jeanine but she is worse than Eric in certain areas. She seemed to lack even an ounce of emotion, as if she were a walking computer. Tori took the position instead.

She's awake," Zeke elbows me and gestures toward the screen displaying the initiate dormitory. Tris is looking painfully sickly these days; her pale skin is almost translucent and her small frame was shrinking by the day. She stares at the food on the tray by the door before approaching it. She must have given up any inhibitions about the food being poisoned because she downed the meal in a hurry. I've been trying to increase her rations but it's hard to skirt around Esther, the guard stationed outside her door. Esther was a hard ass and she hated me from the moment I started working for Eric. Maybe I should send Zeke to try and rub elbows with her, maybe then I'd have better luck.

Zeke, Tori, and I were different from the other Dauntless who were working for the Erudite— we all have a reason to want to bring them down from the inside. Zeke wants to look out for his brother, Tori wants revenge on Jeanine, and I want to save Tris from the nightmare I keep having. We were all playing along in our own way. I joined Eric's side the moment I heard of her supposed death at Candor. Eric wouldn't have killed Tris, she was far too valuable. It had taken a while, and countless beatings, to get on Eric's good side, but it was worth the effort. The door behind Tris opens silently and Eric confidently strides in. She doesn't seem to notice.

"Is that Eric? He isn't supposed to be back from Erudite for another hour," Zeke says glancing at his wristwatch. He's right. Eric wasn't due back at headquarters for another couple of hours according to his schedule but he doesn't give a damn about following it. Tris is aware of his presence now; she backs away from him slowly, like a cornered prey. This looks all too familiar.

"Turn up the mic," I say. Zeke turns a dial and Tris' steady voice enters the room.

"Depends on what you want to talk about," she snaps. She needed to be a damn good actress if our plan is to work. I wipe the sweat from the palms of my hands onto my dark jeans. If anything were to happen to her, It would be all my fault.

"Eric looks pissed," Zeke says. I shush him and lean in closer to the screen. Eric is extremely unpredictable. Our escape is completely dependent on his reaction which made things extremely uncomfortable. He's stumbling towards her now, his footing wasn't steady. Had he been drinking again?

"Stop acting so Goddamn stupid! Do I need to remind you of what will happen if you don't start talking," Eric's voice booms through the speaker. "I didn't know you were a masochist, I guess I should've suspected it. Stiffs get off on beating their children, don't they?" My knuckles turn white as I clench my fist, nails digging into my palms as Eric pushes Tris against the wall. I had seen this happen so many times with my parents but this time felt completely different, Tris was fighting back. She lands a pretty solid kick in his shin and tries to wriggle out of his grasp again. Eric forcefully slams her into the wall face first. I relax slightly when she turns her head in time to avoid a broken nose. She's at a strange angle but she should be able to see the signal.

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you enjoyed our time together," Eric says. He's saying all of these things to get under her skin. It's a classic bullying maneuver.

"Zeke, get ready—." I say with my jaw clenched. Eric leans in and whispers something in Tris ear, I can't tell what he's saying but I see his hands all over her. I fight the urge to punch the screen in front of me.

"If I tell you where he is, will you let me go?" Tris says. Is she bargaining with him now?

"Now?" Zeke asks. "I think she's trying to tell us to hurry the fuck up and give the signal."

"Wait a second," I say to Zeke. This is the first time I've seen Eric caught off guard. She's found a loop hole in his threats over her.

"Something like that. If you behave." My candor senses were tingling. He's lying, it didn't take a candor to see that.

"Well I don't know where he is."

"So we have to do things the hard way again. Trust me Tris, I don't mind fucking you for information. It's one of the highlights of my career. I'll be honest; I was hoping you'd say no. I've been looking forward to fucking you senseless. It won't be as bad as last time, you aren't a virgin anymore." I fight the temptation to look away when Eric pulls Tris dress off. I should have given her something that would take longer to remove, like a fucking corset. What was I thinking? Zeke is staring at his shoes. I almost forgot that he'd been in the control room the first time Eric attacked her.

"I said I don't know where he is!" Tris was completely exposed now; her pale body shivering in the cold air is slightly visible behind Eric. Eric throws obscenities and threats at her. The sadist in him is clearly enjoying this.

"Now?" Zeke asks. Eric was unbuckling his pants.

"Now," I say. Zeke reaches for the light and dims the set that was in Tris view. Eric didn't seem to notice the change in the light.

"Wait!" She cries out.

"What is she doing?" Zeke asks. "We gave her the signal. Didn't she see it?"

"Is this triggering your memory? I don't take orders from Stiffs. Maybe if you ask nicely, I'll hear you out," Eric says.

"Please stop!" Tris' voice breaks.

"That's better," Eric says.

"Amity!" Tris gasps out, looking slightly relieved. I relax slightly. It isn't over until he leaves the room but I felt a brief sense of relief. I turn from the screen and run my hand through my hair.

"What did you say?" Eric says. He sounds shocked for the second time

"He might have gone back to the amity compound. They've provided a place for refugees to go." I lick my lips in anticipation. He looks like he buys it.

"See, that wasn't so hard," Eric steps away from Tris. I release the breath I was holding. It's over.

"Hold on," Zeke squints his eyes at the camera. I look back at the screen in time to see Eric slap Tris across the face and push her back up against the wall. Fuck. It's over.

"Shit," I leap out of my chair and head toward the door. I didn't know how I would stop Eric, but I'd be damned if I let him hurt her again.

"Hold up, Peter. Where are you going?" Zeke clamps a firm hand on my shoulder to stop me from running out of the room. I shove his hands away from me and start towards the door one more. Zeke blocks me again.

"I swear to God, Zeke. I will fucking kill you if you don't get out of my way. I don't have time for this!" Every second wasted is another second of torture for Tris. My heart beats wildly in my chest. She will never forgive me for this. This is worse than what I did to her as an initiate. She must think I knew this would happen— that I wanted it to. Tris releases a muffled groan as he slams into her. I was too late, he's already raping her. Pure rage rips through my body.

"Listen to me Peter. What are you going to do— tell him to back off? You'll be killed for insubordination and then who will protect Tris?" Zeke was right. If our situations were reversed, I'd probably do the same thing.

"I told her this would work, that she wouldn't have to go through this again!" I throw my hands in the air in surrender. I can't stomach to look at the zoomed in image of tangled bodies. Tris' cries and groans fill the room, accompanied by the sound of flesh hitting flesh. I feel like I'm about to get sick.

"Hold on. I've got an idea." Zeke reaches for the intercom by the door and presses the center button.

"I have an urgent message for Eric," Zeke says. There's a momentary lapse of silence before someone answers.

"He's busy. What's the message? I'll pass it to him." I Esther's gravelly voice responds. She was the closest to Eric at the moment. I wonder what she thinks of what's happening right now.

"Tell him there's been an issue at the wall. A group of Dauntless rebels were trying to cross over in to Amity. We have two men down." Zeke says. It technically wasn't a lie. There was an occurrence at the wall but everything was sorted out now.

"Hold on." A knock echoes from the speakers. I refuse to look at the cameras but I can tell from the momentary silence that Eric has stopped.

"What!" Eric snaps.

"We've received a report from the fence. A group of Insurgents penetrated our gates this morning and ran toward Amity headquarters. Two men are down, sir." I try to swallow the lump in my throat as silence fills both rooms.

"Send Peter to investigate it, now! I'll be there later." Of course that wouldn't tear him away from his assault. I dash toward the doors again before Zeke can grab me again. Zeke tackles me to the floor.

"Peter! Listen to me. You can't burst in there. You will be killed on the spot." Zeke and I are matched in both strength and skill. I thrash under him and manage to throw him off of me. He's on his feet right away and pushes me into the wall.

"Fuck you. Zeke. I'm going to fucking kill him. This is fucking bullshit." I throw a fist and hit Zeke in his stomach. He grunts slightly but retains his grip on me.

"No you're not. I can't let you ruin this for Tori and I. You aren't helping Tris. If he suspects you are trying to help her, it will only make things worse!"

"Get off me Zeke. I swear to God, I will kill you, asshole!"

"What's going on?" Max slams the door open and Zeke jumps away. Max looks at me with the same accusing expression he's always worn around me. He's never trusted me completely. Zeke once told me it was because we're too similar. We both want power and will do anything to get it. The only difference was that he succeeded and I decided not to be an asshole. Zeke loosens his grip on the collar of my shirt and pats the raised fabric down in a friendly manner.

"Nothing. Just teaching Peter a few combat moves," Zeke says, flashing a smile.

"On the clock?" Max raises an eyebrow.

"Uh- Eric is with her. It didn't seem right to invade his privacy." Max looks up to the screen and didn't flinch at the sight. He knew about Eric's plans with Tris but didn't bother telling Jeanine about it. He wasn't completely dedicated to her after all. How can you keep a calm face when you witness someone being brutally raped? Memories of seeing my father assault my mother enter my mind. I had watched with a blank expression too.

"Look. See what he's doing? He's praying on her insecurities. She had seven other fears but this one seemed to be the easiest to manipulate without putting her under simulation. One of the benefits of being a Dauntless leader is learning everyone's fears. It doesn't take much to manipulate someone under stress." Max wasn't some ruthless dauntless leader. He was a monster.

"Wait. Why not put her under simulation.—cause the emotional damage without the physical damage. She can't take this forever," I question.

"That is exactly our reason to not use the simulation serum. She's divergent; she could fight the serum anyway. This way we don't waste resources and time. The Erudite would be suspicious if they noticed us using the serums too much and getting a hold of truth serum from Candor is going to take a while."

"So you justify raping her by saving resources?" I snap. It was getting harder and harder for me to continue. "She's going to be permanently damaged by this!"

"Since when did you care about the well-being of a Divergent and Abnegation sympathizer, Peter?" Shit. I just dug myself a hole.

"I don't care about her in particular. I care about results. You will break her."

"That is the point. We're in a war. Kill or be killed. Besides, she's nowhere near her breaking point. It will probably take a few more sessions with Eric to scratch the surface."

"Actually, she said something about Amity. She thinks Tobias might have gone there," Zeke adds stepping in front of me.

"Interesting. I heard it over the intercom earlier." I hope Max can't see me tremble slightly in rage. He's expressionless as he watches the monitor, if I couldn't see and hear what was happening right now, I would suspect he was browsing through files.

"I've been meaning to ask you, Peter. We're missing a syringe and a dose of the memory serum from our weapons lab. I saw that you've been in there in the last couple of days. Did you notice anything missing?" His question seems genuine but this was probably a test. I did steal a syringe and dose of memory serum from the lab but I erased the footage and replaced it with something else. Zeke didn't know about my visit to the weapons lab. I had it in my pocket but it must have slipped out. Of course, I can't tell max this.

"I haven't," I lie.

"Ezekiel?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about. We have a weapons lab with serums?" Zeke was pretty damn convincing when it came to playing dumb. Max purses his lips and looks away from the screen. I steal a glance at the screen and see only Tris. Eric must have left while Max was here.

"Let me know if you hear anything," Max says curtly and leaves the room. I stare at the screen where Tris is. She's curled up in a ball, her shoulders shake slightly as she sobs.

"Turn it off." I say to Zeke. He looks confused for a second but registers my meaning. The screen turns black and the audio of Tris sniffles are cut from the room. The silence was in the room was deafening. "I'm going to take a walk." I don't bother sticking around to hear Zeke's response. I just leave.

A/N: Yeah, I'm not that happy with this chapter either, but at least now I know that I prefer writing from Tris perspective! I will try to stick to my weekly update from now on. Sorry for making you guys wait so long! Let me know what you think of Peter's POV. Feel free to leave opinions, comments, etc in your reviews! I promise, they have a direct correlation with my posting patterns! :)

Love you all!

xBelle