A/N: Happy 2014 everyone! Sorry it took me a while to update, this chapter was a long one, and the ending was hard to write.
So, if you wouldn't mind, I have a teensy favour to ask y'alls (not very Abnegation of me, I know, sorry, but it's really important to me, so please hear me out :P). Currently, doesn't allow stories to be posted in Welsh, so imagine my annoyance when I spent three hours writing a story and then translating it into Welsh (I speak a bit of Welsh, I'm still learning, so I had to use a translator for a small portion, and it took a while to get it right), and then I went to publish it, and there was NO WELSH language choice! I emailed the support email (support *AT* fanfiction *DOT* com), and I got a reply asking to spread the word, so PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE if you value my writing, PLEASE email them using the [category] tag and ask them to add Welsh as a language (New Language: Welsh:Cymraeg)
THANK YOU SO MUCH I REALLY APPRECIATE IT! It means so much to me!
Chapter of Divergent (the actual book): 34
Disclaimer: I don't own the Divergent trilogy or any of the characters.
Also, creds to QueenOfOlympus223 for the line "The light at the end of the tunnel turned out to be a freight train." Genius. Thanks. :P
With every step we take my heartbeat increases. I can feel Tris's breath becoming shallower as she digs her shoulder into mine, leaning into me. I hold her hand like it's a lifeline, trying to get her to hang on.
Please, Tris. Just hang on a little longer.
I can hear her blood hit the ground. Every droplet causes a spike of pain down my spine.
I see Eric's gun pressed to her spine. He doesn't need to press one to mine, the gun on her back is enough to make me do anything he wants, and he knows it.
He shoves us towards two men, dressed in Dauntless black, who guard a door.
I recognize the one on the left as George, the man who helps me run the video monitors. I look for any sign of life in his eyes, but he just stares on mindlessly.
Shame. He was a nice guy.
Once inside, I see a blonde woman sitting behind a desk. Immediately my brain puts a name to the face. Jeanine. Even though we haven't met personally, I recognize her face, even her voice from description. Hers is the voice in the aptitude system.
"Well send some of them back on the train, then," she says into a phone. "It needs to be well guarded, it's the most important part—I'm not talk—I have to go," she snaps, shutting the phone. Her piercing gray eyes skirt over Tris's slumped figure.
"Divergent rebels," the man behind me says.
"Yes I can see that," she snaps, taking off her glasses and leaving them folded nicely on the table. "You," she says, pointing at Tris, "I expected. All the trouble with your aptitude test results made me suspicious from the beginning. But you…"
Her eyes flick to me. I feel a cold shiver go up my spine.
"You, Tobias—or should I call you Four?—managed to elude me," she says quietly. "Everything about you checked out: test results, initiation simulations, everything. But here you are nonetheless," she says, folding her hands and resting her chin on them. "Perhaps you could explain to me how that is?"
Surprising even myself, my voice is calm when I answer. "You're the genius. Why don't you tell me?"
She smiles softly, filling me with dread. I focus on not showing it, though.
"My theory is that you really do belong in Abnegation. That your Divergence is weaker," she says, her smile widening.
I feel bile rise in my throat. I feel Tris stiffen against me, then suddenly weaken. I wrap my arm tighter around her, squeezing her hand. She squeezes back to let me know she's okay.
"Your powers of deductive reasoning are stunning," I spit out. "Consider me awed."
I feel Tris's head turn against my shoulder, and she looks at me in spite of all that keeps her still. I feel my cheeks burn at her gaze, hopeful that no one sees.
"Now that your intelligence has been verified, you might want to get on with killing us," I say, closing my eyes. "You have a lot of Abnegation leaders to murder, after all."
She continues to smile and stand, yet I see the glimmer of annoyance in her eye.
I feel Tris slump, her eyes rolling back in her head, and I slide my arm around her waist to support her. I feel her pulse in my hand, letting out a nervous breath.
"Don't be silly," Jeanine says lightly. "There is no rush. You are both here for an extremely important purpose. You see, it perplexed me that the Divergent were immune to the serum that I developed, so I have been working to remedy that. I thought I might have, with the last batch, but as you know, I was wrong. Luckily I have another batch to test."
"Why bother?" I whisper. I'm still in awe at her comment. "But as you know, I was wrong." She must really think we are of no importance if she admitted to us that she was wrong.
Her smirk brings me back.
"I have had a question since I began the Dauntless project, and it is this," she says, sidestepping her desk, skimming the surface with her finger. "Why are most of the Divergent weak-willed, God-fearing nobodies from Abnegation, of all factions?"
"Weak-willed," I scoff. "It requires a strong will to manipulate a simulation, last time I checked. Weak-willed is mind-controlling an army because it's too hard for you to train one yourself."
I hope my comments bite behind her mask.
"I am not a fool," she says. "A faction of intellectuals is no army. WE are tired of being dominated by a bunch of self-righteous idiots who reject wealth and advancement, but we couldn't do this on our own. And your Dauntless leaders were all too happy to oblige me if I guaranteed them a place in our new, improved government."
My mind flickers to Eric and Max.
"Improved," I snort.
"Yes, improved," Jeanine says. "Improved, and working toward a world in which people will live in wealth, comfort, and prosperity."
"At whose expense?" Tris asks, her voice sounding alarmingly sluggish. "All that wealth… doesn't come from nowhere."
"Currently, the factionless are a drain on the resources. As is Abnegation. I am sure that once the remains of your old faction are absorbed into the Dauntless army, Candor will cooperate and we will finally be able to get on with things," Jeanine says, as if this is the most obvious thing in the world.
Absorbed… she wants to mind control the Abnegation.
"Get on with thinks," I repeat angrily. "Make no mistake. You will be dead before the day is out, you—"
Jeanine cuts me off before some very nasty words escape my lips.
"Perhaps if you could control your temper," she says, words clear and sharp, "you would not be in this situation to begin with, Tobias."
"I'm in this situation because you put me here," I snap. "The second you orchestrated an attack against innocent people."
"Innocent people," Jeanine says with a laugh. With dread, I know where she is taking this conversation. "I find that a little funny, coming from you. I would expect Marcus's son to understand that not all those people are innocent. Can you tell me honestly that you wouldn't be happy to discover that your father was killed in the attack?"
"No," I answer honestly, teeth gritted. "But at least his evil didn't involve the widespread manipulation of an entire faction and the systematic murder of every political leader we have."
My eyes lock with Jeanine's, and I dare myself to hold her gaze. I feel Tris stiffening at my side at the unease caused by our staring contest.
Her eyes flick to the floor as she clears her throat.
"What I was going to say, is that soon, dozens of the Abnegation and their young children will be my responsibility to keep in order, and it does not bode well for me that a large number of them may be Divergent like yourselves, incapable of being controlled by simulations."
She steps to the left.
"Therefore, it was necessary that I develop a new form of simulation to which they are not immune. I have been forced to reassess my own assumptions. That is where you come in."
She steps back to the right.
"You are correct to say that you are strong-willed. I cannot control your will. But there are a few things I can control."
I feel Tris's forehead dig into my shoulder as her blood spills onto the floor.
I think what surprises me most is the look on Jeanine's face. She doesn't look angry that there are people that defy her. She doesn't look like a woman who wants to control an army, although that is what she is. She looks genuinely interested in what makes the Divergent tick, like she wants blueprints. She simply looks curious.
"I can control what you see and hear," she continues. "So I created a new serum that will adjust your surroundings to manipulate your will. Those who refuse to accept our leadership must be closely monitored. You will be the first test subject, Tobias. Beatrice, however…" she smiles, and I feel my heart drop through my chest as she chooses her next words. "You are too injured to be of much use to me, so your execution will occur at the conclusion of this meeting."
I feel her shiver, and my body matches it. I feel my heartbeat in my head, although my heart is on the floor. It's all I can hear, the sound of my heart beating, the blood coursing through my ears.
"No," I say, my voice trembling more than I'd like, but I can't help it. "I would rather die."
"I'm afraid you don't have much of a choice in the matter," she says lightly, like our lives don't matter to her.
The light, the light at the end of the tunnel that I had just seen, turned out to be a freight train.
I am aware of one thing, one thing that I must do, not for Tris's sake, but for my own.
I take her face in my hands, kissing her desperately, trying with all my might to hang on to our final seconds together. I lose myself in her lips, and I feel the impatient stare of Jeanine on the back of my neck.
I let go of Tris softly, careful not to hurt her with the rage tightening in my muscles.
I launch myself with all my strength across the desk, wrapping my long fingers around Jeanine's throat. Tris's scream barely registers in my mind.
It takes two Dauntless soldiers to pull me off of Jeanine. They hold me down to the carpet, and I see Tris blunder towards them.
"No," I whisper. No one hears me.
They force her against the wall.
I feel a gun smack into the back of my head, and I let out a noise that feels like nails on a chalkboard, a noise I didn't think I was capable of making.
All those hours, wasted in the Dauntless gym training, preparing for this moment are now useless to me.
I feel the needle plunge into my neck, and I look up at a horrified face.
Who is that girl?
I am sure I have seen her before. Her blonde hair is slick with blood, and her face stares back at me.
"Let him up," Jeanine says, voice scratchy. I stand slowly as the guard lets go of me.
"Tobias," the girl whispers. Then her voice gets stronger. "Tobias!"
Why is she calling my name?
"He doesn't know you," Jeanine says.
Suddenly I remember.
This is the girl that tried to kill me.
I start towards her, slamming her into the wall, wrapping my fingers around her throat. Why can't I bring myself to draw them all the way around?
This situation feels wrong. I know she tried to kill me, I know the memory is there, but I can't recall it.
Two guards pull me off of the girl.
I still can't remember her name.
"The simulation manipulates him by altering what he sees—making him confuse enemy with friend."
What?
The girl looks at me, her blue eyes filling with unspeakable pain. Those eyes… I swear I have seen those eyes before. They fill me with an unexplainable comfort, and part of me wants to comfort her.
But why? Why is she so sad that I tried to hurt her? Didn't she try to kill me? What did she expect, for me to forgive her and hug her? No. She is my enemy.
Jeanine's words sink in. "Making him confuse enemy with friend." Does this mean… does this mean she is my friend? No. No. She tried to kill me. Why would she be my friend?
"The advantage to this version of the simulation is that he can act independently, and is therefore far more effective than a mindless soldier."
Jeanine's eyes flick towards the guard that hold me back from my nemesis.
"Send him to the control room. We'll want a sentient being there to monitor things and, as I understand it, he used to work there."
Used to work there… yes, I used to work there.
I feel the guards hit me over the head, dragging me to what must be the "control room," and before I pass out, I can't help but feel one thing.
Maybe the blonde didn't try to kill me. Maybe this was all Jeanine. Maybe.