I don't own Divergent - not the amazing Veronica Roth.

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"Now you go get back to your boytoy," she orders, smirking. I smack her arm and walk back into Four's room.

There's a lady with a beanie and a clipboard standing there talking to him. With each word, his face gets more and more alarmed. I sit next to him in the chair and try to catch on.

"- move in with the Priors. Your father is going to be put on trial for aggravated assault, endangering the welfare of a child, abuse, neglect, and a few other minor charges not regarding his treatment of you. Do you have any other living relatives you'd like to stay with instead of the Priors? Where is your mother?"

Four scowls bitterly and grips my hand. "My mother ran out on us when I was nine. I haven't seen her since. My only other relative is probably dead by now, and the Priors are a lot better than living with him. How much support will the Priors receive?"

The lady looks at me for the first time, and I can see she knows I'm a Prior. "They'd receive the same amount as any other foster family would for one child of your age."

Four turns to me and searches my eyes for a few seconds. I hope they show what I'm thinking: I really would like it for Four to move in with us. "Can I talk to the Priors? Privately?"

"Yes. Beatrice is obviously already in here, and Andrew is waiting outside to sign your release forms and take you home - err, to his house, until there's a free bed at the county home. You shouldn't be there for more than a few weeks once he signs the papers. But, before he signs them, he wants your consent." She sighs and loses the air of detachment. "If I may, I think you should move in with them. Believe me when I say that these are, by far, some of the best foster parents I've seen in a while. Ones like the Priors don't come along often. Usually we get people who don't give a crap about the kids. Andrew cares about you, even if he hasn't known you long. I think he wants to give you a chance he never had." She sighs again. "I'll go get Andrew."

A few minutes later, my father slips in. "Hi, Four. How was your night with my daughter?" He has a threatening look on his face.

Four blushes. "Uhh, okay, sir?"

My father gives him a teasing smile. "I'm guessing Alisha filled you in, yes?"

Four nods. "Is it too much trouble to take me in?"

Dad shakes his head. "Not at all, Four. Or should I say, T-"

Four cuts him off. "My name is Four. Only my father called me that and I don't want to be associated with that name anymore. He ruined it."

My dad looks at Four, a new respect in his eyes. "Okay, Four. Anyway, as for your schooling -"

"I'll transfer to Lincoln Park," Four mumbles, not meeting my father's eyes.

"No, I was going to ask if Bea had talked to you about scholarships you could earn." My father raises his eyebrows at me.

"I did, Dad. He thinks that me and him having jobs to help pay is too much of a burden," I inform him. Four reddens.

"If Beatrice wants to use her money to help pay for your tuition, I don't see why she can't," my dad decides.

"Do you know when I'll be moving in? How long I'll have to stay at the county home?" Four asks, a little desperation in his eyes.

"A month, at most."

Four puts a smile on his face, but I can see he isn't happy. "Well, there's something to be said for the 'at most' part, no?"

I put my hand on his shoulder. "I'm going to go check and see if anyone else has come to see you." He nods, acknowledging my statement, and turns away. My father follows me out.

"He's upset." It's said like a statement, not a question.

"Yeah. Wouldn't you be, though, if you had to go to a county home? Everyone knows those places are awful," I answer, shuddering slightly at the thought. My father nods, obviously off in his own world. "Oh, God," I mutter when I see who's waiting in the waiting room.

"What?" my dad asks. "Is that his girlfriend?"

I laugh. "No, but she'd love it if he thought that." I laugh a little harder. "Four hates her. She's constantly hitting on him, trying to seduce him. She makes such a fool of herself it's funny."

My father chuckles. "Well, let's not let her in then, shall we?"

I shake my head. He goes over to a receptionist and starts talking to her quietly and I try to escape before Lauren sees me and fail.

"Tris!" she shouts, earning a glare from the receptionist. "Where is Four-y-Poo?"

I cough, trying to keep the laughter in. "Um, let me go see if he's awake." Then I scurry down the hall and into Four's room, shutting and locking the door behind me and collapsing in laughter again.

"What?" Four sits up and looks at me with concern.

"Lauren," I manage. "Lauren wants to see you, 'Four-y-Poo.'"

His mouth drops open and he starts laughing, too. "That is the worst nickname I've ever been given."

"So what should I tell her?" I ask, reigning in my laughter.

"Tell her I'm asleep."

"Okay." I shrug and leave, turning out the light.