The click of heels against the ground, with the soft monotonous beeping of machines echo in the confines of my skull.
Even this half consciousness I am aware that I am alive. There is an accute disappointment in that awareness.
When I blink it's closer. I blink again and he's beside me. He places the syringe on the cot to remove his glasses, using his coat to clean the lenses.
"This will help you… Sleep." He says, taking up the syringe to flick the glass. He removes the drip chamber from a bag of clear liquids hung on a pole near the bed and attaches the syringe to it.
I stare at him, at his pasty skin, disheveled black wiry hair and sleep-less eyes behind spotless glass, waiting for the darkness that creeps around my vision to envelope it completely as a pink liquid flows down the tube of my IV and into my arm.
A sigh breathes through my lips, silent and unheard.
He leans down till his mouth is close to my ear. "Don't speak to anyone." Garrett whispers as the gravity of unconsciousness weighs my eyelids down.
Eric presses the incline button on the side of my bed to raise me slowly, bringing me up to a sitting position.
But then, he presses the recline button to lay me back down equally slow. More than once.
Through the few times he's done this, I've learned where most of the restraints are, those above the sheets draped over my lower half include my shoulders and neck.
I know my wrists are bound as well as I've tugged the sheet down with my fingers.
"Comfortable?" Eric asks, he pulls a chair up. I hear it scrape along the ground until it's beside the bed where he smooths the sheet down before placing an elbow to rest his cheek on a fist. "Not your first time in Erudite's hospital wing, huh? Or laboratory."
I stare at the long curtained window, the only one in the room. Drawn closed. The outside world shut away by clean white and pale blue checkered fabric, drifting occasionally from the air of a vent beneath it.
Sometimes I catch a flicker of the light that filters through, creating a streak across the foot of the bed. Fleeting and bright, indicating daytime.
The light does little for the temperature of the room however, it remains a constant clinical cold.
I knew I was in Erudite.
"I didn't bring you any flowers." He says with a sigh before leaning in. "But then, you really shouldn't have let someone fucking stab you." He speaks the rest through gritted teeth against my ear, the touch of his lips and breath against my skin, feathery and light. "Inefficient."
I turn my head to face him and see that his eyes are half lidded, expressing, boredom, and disappointment as he stares down at me.
In them, the blue weaves through hues of gray with the barest hint of green and, I wonder at them becoming faded. Dull. Colorless.
"But on the bright side, I've discovered that they're all more attached to you than they'd care to admit." Eric says with a low tone while brushing his finger along my jaw, stopping below my chin. "You're like a pet, only, less maintenance." His thumb skims my bottom lip.
I turn my head and gaze to the side when he leans in.
"Of course pets are a little more disposable… And replaceable." He continues to himself with a laugh, a grisly spiteful sound. "I mean, you are obedient, well trained, quiet and…" I hear the protest of the chair under his weight and then his boots being placed next to me on the bed. "Loyal."
The scent of leather polish wafts off them. I breathe slowly, and as little as possible to calm myself. Focusing on getting a wrist free as I stare at the curtains of the window shifting in another artificial breeze.
"Speaking of which." The chair scrapes against the ground once more, his boots gone and his hand is on my face in an instant again, pinching my cheeks into my teeth, forcing my head to the side to look at him. "Has this opened your fucking eyes?"
I glare at him and twist my wrists in the restraints. The leather burns my skin but his bright eyes sear into mine with far more intensity.
"Everything you've ever done was strictly by design, but you've got it all wrong Gene, I can tell by that look on your face." Eric says. "It wasn't by my design or even by Erudite's. You should know that by now."
I pull harder at the restraints and claw into the mattress, my teeth bared behind his hand.
He knows I won't be bound forever. That thought calms me marginally.
Eric smirks and glances idly at my struggle. "You can hate me and blame me for whatever you want and all you fucking want but, it's not my fault your pet turned out to be Divergent."
"I don't hate you." I speak, my voice comes through gritted teeth and pinched cheeks, sounding impudent and hardly insulting, hearing it again is strange to my ears. It is raspy, raw. "That would involve feeling something for you at all, and I don't blame you either, it's not as if -"
"Fair enough, we both know that you're incapable of feeling anything for anyone. A little modesty might do you some good though." Eric sneers, I try to turn my head out of his grasp but he squeezes tighter, the pressure on my jaw increases. "Now, do what you do best and shut the fuck up, this is about more than you and I."
"You-" He squeezes till I can't utter another word.
"Don't talk now Gene, I might be prevailed upon to convince them that removal of your tongue is vital. They would muzzle you, to keep from having to put you down." Eric tilts my head up. "They have use for you yet."
His grip loosens just a bit as though giving me an opportunity to speak or certain that I won't.
"I-" He squeezes hard again and I close my eyes.
"Frankly, I've grown tired of leaving you subtle hints, warnings - trying to get you to see what you're so oblivious to. I've been trying to help you." He lowers his face to mine. "It's about time you learned who it is you're so loyal to, the ones you trust. You'll realize who has Dauntless' and the city's best interests in mind."
I open my eyes begrudgingly to stare into his. He sees the recognition flash behind mine as I remember a night that feels far off in the distance.
"I've given you a scent, pet, now follow it."
At that moment a cold sensation spreads down my arm and I watch a clear liquid disappear from one of the IV's down into my pallid skin.
It would have been welcome minutes ago.
I'm not prepared for it this time, but it's already inside me. Cold and invasive, weighing my body down, dragging me under.
"This conversation isn't over." Eric sighs with palpable aggravation and pauses a moment to search my expression again. "Oh, don't look so. . .I'll be here when you wake up." He sounds softer, far off.
I feel the lull force my eyes closed as his hand releases me to brush lighter against my cheek.
The darkness takes me, just after I feel a touch on my lips.
My hand moves to the restraint around my neck and I pull but it doesn't break so I feel around and undo it properly.
I remove the binds over my shoulders and abdomen in a rush to sit up before yanking the IV's from my arms and the finger clamp monitoring my pulse.
As soon as the dull flat-line sounds begin, I wrap the cord around my knuckles and tug, turning to use my shoulder as leverage, wrapping the cord around my hands until the machine falls over.
The screen of the monitor shatters on impact before rolling over the ground, stopping at the foot of the door. No doubt the noise will alert and draw unwanted attention.
I throw the sheets off my lower half to work at the belt around my waist and then thighs but as I start on the ones around my ankles the door opens and collides with the monitor, sending it across the floor and against the bed.
"Genesis! Those are for your safety!" It's Garrett's voice. I'm already loose.
Max's laughter is loud in my ears and I watch as Falen claws at the IV tube wrapped around his neck, rasping for air. His face red, eyes hollow and bloodshot.
To the left of him Garret approaches me, one hand low and in the other he has clutched a syringe.
It would be impudent and redundant to continue. Falen let me attack him. He was the first through the door.
"What are you doing?" Max asks, a wide grin across his face, he isn't talking to me. "Do you really think you're holding her back?"
Falen chokes out a cough, he waves a hand before pulling the IV needle from his shoulder and tosses it to the ground. "There's… no need… for that Garrett."
Garrett glances at Max and Falen before his eyes fall back to me.
"With all due respect old man, I enjoy watching a girl strangle you but this one is-"
I stomp on Eric's boot but without my own, his foot is protected. It is enough to get him to hold his tongue but he does not release me.
His grip on my other arm, twisted behind my back has just enough pressure to not dislocate my shoulder but have the threat of it implied if I struggle. He has his other arm wrapped around my waist holding me firmly against him.
I hold tight to his jacket sleeve, to keep him from applying more pressure over my wound. I can already feel the warmth spreading and the adrenaline fading, leaving me light headed and dizzy from the exertion.
"Garrett." Max calls. "Inform Jeanine that we will be taking Genesis back to Dauntless."
"Is that really wise?" Garret asks incredulously, his interruption earns a scowl from Max. "Her wound has been re-opened obviously and Dauntless hardly has the means to proper medical care, with the threat of an infection. . ."
"We have many capable medical staff at our disposal, we do have an infirmary." Eric argues, he releases me with a slight shove. "You underestimate Dauntless?"
I sigh and tie the strings of the gown tighter behind me, a dark red stain blossoms over the front of the light blue fabric through the thick gauze and bandage wrap beneath it but the pain is dull and deep, possibly due to the effects of pain killers and still to the muscle relaxers and sleep inducers.
"I meant no disrespect, it's just that Genesis isn't in a condition to be traveling, much less standing." I cling to the metal pole that hung the IV bags.
My vision swims for a brief moment and I clutch my abdomen. The leaders look me over, no doubt noticing my labored breathing, and the sheen of sweat decorating my skin in a thin layer.
Hardly the picture of composure I normally display. I manage to stand straight and maintain eye contact with Eric's penetrating gaze.
I'd argue with Garret as well if I weren't aware of the burning sensation I swallow down every so often.
I don't want to be touched by anymore Erudite, my expression should be enough and they will take notice of that as well.
Falen stands straight adjusting his jacket, as if taking cue. "I'm sure she would be more comfortable in Dauntless, any follow ups can be taken in our infirmary. She's been in Erudite long enough, any longer would be inexcusable and create insurmountable consequences."
Max clamps a hand on Eric's shoulder. "Well Doc, patch her up so we can get the fuck out of here, it smells like Erudite and… Shit mixed with the kind of alcohol you can't consume."
Eric's hand closes around my elbow as if Max permitted him and I spin, putting speed and velocity behind the punch I send into his throat to crush his windpipe.
He coughs out but his grip becomes crushing like he intends to snap my arm in two.
Without hesitation, I twist the remaining IV tube still hung to the pole around his forearm and I bring the needle down through his jacket at his wrist, his grip loosens as he swings his other arm to recapture me.
I shove with my remaining strength and he scowls, baring his teeth at me as he regains his footing against the cot.
He pulls the needle out of his arm and pushes off of it as I take the pole up in my hands.
It's Max who grabs me this time and Garret gets the needle to my skin while Falen prys the metal pole from my grasp.
They need to stop fucking touching me if they don't intend on killing me. I don't get a chance to tell them before I'm unconscious again.
It's as if I'm just in a daze, drugs to blame. Though other factors include blood loss, temperature and the present company.
Their moods light and relaxed. Mine dark and brooding.
Everything outside is dark through the window. It's still night or early morning, everything outside is still white and gray and my breath comes out like smoke, fogging the glass with every exhale.
Max's voice goes in and out, explaining that Dauntless has undergone some reformation. "We've implemented the whole new set of rules for the coming year." His enthusiasm falls flat but picks up with the speed of the vehicle.
He drones about the rules and regulation for Dauntless dependents, rules during initiation, rules for civilians, rules for active patrol, inactive and wall stationed and even rules for themselves, leaders.
As if I didn't already know them. Thought they added a few extra. A cherry on top. A few dozen.
"Anyone caught out after curfew without a valid excuse will get a strike and subsequent strikes based on, well, obvious shit."
Falen tells me that the leaders apartments and offices have been relocated back above the pit and that I should be able to find them there, if needed.
It's to accommodate the new leaders.
"Trains will no longer run past 12 A.M. and then will begin running again at 4 A.M which is in lieu of recent events and faction-less activity." Falen says. "In time you will be briefed on the alternate routes and territories, movement and whatever else is deemed on a need to know basis."
Eric nudges my boot with his but I don't turn way from the window to face him.
"You've been out 3 days. Today would've marked the 4th." He says conversationally. I shrug.
"Eric took care of everything while you were on hiatus." Max comments. "By care, I mean, the story he fed anyone for whom it concerned of your whereabouts."
"No one really asked actually." Eric whispers in a hushed tone. "They probably just assumed I killed you." He chuckles. "Or they didn't care enough."
"Given the circumstances everything was already set, it was spry thinking on his part though, Eric anticipated you would be injured." Falen interjects. "Now may be a good opportunity to fill her in before she's reintroduced-"
"Sometime in the morning." Eric feigns a yawn, cutting Falen off before stretching his arms behind his head. "When she isn't under the influence of drugs and stops acting like a bitch."
He flicks my hair over my shoulder. I curl my hands, shoved into my jacket pockets into tight fists.
I take it the tracker did more than just track and fed him my vital signs.
Max laughs. "Keep antagonizing her and you yourself will be on the receiving end of of a knife no doubt."
"Oooo really?" Eric says with mock excitement, earning more laughter. "Don't threaten me with a good time."
"Your follow up is this afternoon, Garret has agreed to use our facilities to tend to you." Falen says, interrupting with a stern cough, and I know he's talking to me. "If your pain becomes-"
"She just needs some alcohol, or to get it all out of her system." Max assures him. "She can drink it off, or I'm sure Eric can oblige her, you know how she gets after a task."
Falen peers at me through the rear view mirror. His eyes are sunken and sleepless, his cheek bones more prominent, he looks to have lost weight.
I turn back to the window.
As soon as the vehicle stops outside the large cement and metal building, I open the door and step down, sinking my boots into the dirty snow built up on the side of the curb.
The accompanying vehicle stops behind us and the others disembark, giving me nods. Guns tucked behind their backs, dressed in full combat threads.
I watch them all walk up the steps and pull my sleeve up to check my watch, twisting it around my wrist. 2:59 A.M.
With a towel wrapped around my head to hold my wet hair, I examine myself in the bathroom mirror. Turning my arms and my back to look over my shoulder in what would be the first thorough examination of my body.
I touch my old shoulder wound, now just a red line on its way to becoming another scar, before tracing a blue vein on my forearm to my wrist and shake my head, unable to fathom how I can possibly pass for just being ill should someone ask.
To say I looked sickly would be an understatement. I look desiccated. My eyes are sunken, a shade of purplish-blue around them, and my eyelids a pale lavender, my lips a pink only after bitting. The watery-blue of my irises, now closer to a dull gray.
The colors striking in contrast to my papery almost transparent skin. I shake my head once more and sigh at the pitiful image reflected before me.
My first thought is to find out the reason they feel it appropriate to keep me animate in this condition when the plausible thing to do is eliminate me.
I'm a traitor, technically.
My second thought is that Falen is likely the one who covered it up before Eric could discover me. I refuse to think of how.
They have use for you yet.
My third is that I must still be under the influence because nothing hurts as it should and it's difficult to organize the rest of my thoughts, all I feel is rage.
I press along my sides over darkened and tender flesh to feel for any abnormalities. Satisfied when I find nothing out of the ordinary, I tear open the paper package of two large sized sterile gauze between my teeth and place one over my injury.
Another over a surgically made incision sewn shut expertly, my littered skin looks like that of a sack, holding my viscera in as if I were merely containing produce from Amity.
The thought is dehumanizing and kind of humorous but unrealistic.
The tracker is still embedded in my neck as well, healed in and will likely stay for the remainder of my existence.
I'm a tagged pet. Eric's words replay in my head.
I grab a bandage wrap next and hold one end against me while I circle it around and around till the length covers my entire abdomen and then, I brush my teeth thoroughly, pulling my lips back to scrub my gums with the sharp bristled brush, taking my time to get every corner of my mouth.
When I'm done I press my palms into the counter and close my eyes, gargling the water, swishing it between my cheeks before vomiting it into the hollow sink.
"I'll give you some time." Eric says after inspecting me, as he rises up from the couch. He tosses a book onto my bare table.
I nod my head slowly and continue towel drying my hair.
He produces and unscrews the cap of a small bottle and holds out a dropper filled with clear liquid.
"Take a dropperful every six hours, any more than that and…You know what? I'll administer your doses, wouldn't want you to become a dope head."
I squeeze the dropper into the back of my throat and return it to him. Then I run my fingers through my damp hair and he hands me a cup of steaming coffee that he had left untouched on the couch side table.
"You know where to find me." He adds, fishing for his keys. He tosses a lose key onto the book before turning to me with a grin. "You're expected at the auditorium in. . ." He glances at his watch. "4 hours. 8 A.M."
"8 A.M." I confirm, draping my towel over my dining chair. I don't ask what for.
"To my understanding, you don't need a 'boyfriend ' anymore." Eric continues as he makes his way towards the door. "You're even authorized to leave the grounds thanks to the uh- You know what." He points his finger towards the back of his own neck. "Granted you follow curfew."
I wave my hand dismissively and follow him to the door to lock it upon his departure. He turns and leans against the door frame, crossing his arms over his chest and I wait for his final closing statements, anticipating something imperious.
"She left a note." Eric says with a bored tone. "I know there was something about… Running off to faction-less… Heartbroken." His expression becomes menacing, with a smirk and narrowed eyes. "Just something for you to dwell on while you're trying to get some sleep."
I begin closing the door on him, letting my expression betray nothing. He stops it with a boot and reaches for me, I step back reflexively and he smiles before darting forward and circling my neck with his hand.
His fingers curl tightly around my throat closing my airways with his thumb pressed into my windpipe as he pulls me back, tilting my head up.
I grip his jacket without urgency and stare back at him un-amused. My jaw tensed and I keep my mouth a firm line although I can feel the urge to bare my teeth in a scowl.
"Make sure you wear a jacket when you go out." Eric says snidely, he leans in till his nose touches mine and I can smell peppermint on his breath. "You're beginning to look like a corpse too."
With that he shoves me, and I touch my throat as he slams the door behind him. I drag my tongue across the tops of my teeth.
"You look like complete shit." Gabriel says, he drops down onto the table, sliding into the bench. "It's an improvement though."
He slams his tray of food between us and places an apple near my arm. "Like the smokey eyes. It totally makes you look sexy in an… Unhealthy way." He laughs.
I wave my dismissal on the topic of my appearance and take a bite out of the fruit, swallowing the chunk without chewing completely before placing it back to his tray.
The taste is bland, and the coffee I drank overpowers all other flavors.
"Right? That's what I said." Lynn cackles, she leans over and drops what I believe is her toast crust onto the neglected plate of eggs, bacon and other various breakfast foods that was placed in front of me by Jade. "We should call you zombie now."
I curl my fingers around the cup she gives me and bring it to my lips, taking a long sip. It's bitter as usual, washing straight down my throat and into the hollows of my gut. My 2nd cup in less than 2 hours.
Within that short time, the activity and normalcy of my current occupying company, became faked, in their incessant fidgeting over me, as they assume my appearance is only partly due to illness.
That being, none have questioned me over it. I've effectively repressed the urge to study them and their movements.
They just hover, closer even, than when our leader had gone. That's the way of people, some will lay in wait for you to show weakness whereas others are around in case you do.
They automatically assume I'll react a certain way, and I do. Still, I understand that maybe my way isn't like theirs, I've never had to pretend, the Dauntless way covers a wide variety of the same effect.
I hadn't known they would be up at this hour, but many of them have trouble sleeping now.
"Gene you really need to start drying your hair better." Jade chastises, she pulls her fingers through my still damp tresses, catching knots and pulling gently.
I wave her hand away and she frowns, placing them in her lap. "You'll stay sick this way."
"And?" I ask without inflection, tilting my head to the side to plant my cheek in my palm and press my elbow to the tabletop.
"Whew, if your sickness is bitchiness, I hope it's not contagious." Joseph laughs before sticking his tongue at me.
I give him an un-amused glower before drumming my fingers against the side of my cup to watch the ripples form over the surface of the dark liquid.
"Naw man, you already have a case of uglytitis." Gabriel and Lynn chortle raucously, and the food in their mouths becomes grossly exposed.
Joseph threatens to re-injure his ankle. "Go ahead, I'll still look better than you."
I cast my gaze to the table and listen as they begin prattling off imaginary diseases, their causes and symptoms. Some of their humor seems a bit forced as well.
The food, the joking, the attention. I sigh.
Maybe I too, assume similarities between us. Only to be disappointed by the differences.
"Can we stay at your place tonight?" Jade asks, under the other babel. "It's the last night of Dauntfest."
She sits angled towards me with the same position, mirroring mine, with more ease but under the canopy of her arm as she rests her chin on her open palm, sits a plate with a piece of chocolate cake left untouched.
Her other arm cradled around it holding a fork that she taps idly against the table.
"Fine." I answer flatly with the same inflection, my finger taps the cup in time to her fork.
The remaining day and night of Dauntfest has no influence on my schedule or decisions, then again, neither is her ability to finish her cake.
She laughs but it's a hollow sound, like that of a sigh and, I hear it then. As if her lungs have no space within her ribs, or as though her body can't accept the loss of air, or the absence of it inside her.
I can see it in their eyes, and hear it in their voices. It's in the way they move. In the way they breathe.
Watching gives me a feeling of detachment, like I am separate from everything around me.
I don't know what it's like exactly, though I feel that tightness in my chest, maybe I've never been able to pretend with certainty that I don't.
"We can share it." Jade says with a wry smile before staking the fork through the thickest part.
I shrug in response and reach over to drag my finger through the icing and scrape it onto my tongue.
I'll be sure to get another cup of coffee to wash it down.
Jade laughs again, more audibly, still unnaturally and lifts the crumbling piece up, dropping it unceremoniously with her fork onto the already piled high plate in front of me.
"By the way, you're expected back at Erudite tomorrow at noon." Max voice says through the intercom speakers. "Jeanine has requested it."
I sigh and refill the active syringe with fear serum for the next leadership candidate, having already concluded with Candice. She was quick.
Although I can't see the leaders, they can see me, and hear me from the mirror-windows to the observation room, and through the cameras in the corners of the graffitied walls.
I turn back to the screen that displays Paul's fear landscape and watch his progression through each scenario as he sits unconscious in the chair and then glance to my watch.
"You can meet us there…That is, unless you want to attend the years start conference. We do have some interesting topics to cover with Abnegation regarding faction-less policies." Falen says. "We'll fill you in this afternoon after all this is concluded."
My attention for the moment is split between the evaluation and timing of this potential leaders fears and the preparation for storage and recording of the next, as well as inputting the time difference and fear count from their previous evaluations.
If I had a spare thought for Abnegation or faction-less of all things, it would be lost to numbers and analyzing of fears on top of everything else.
Paul stirs before I can voice a response and the screen turns black. The lights return as he sits straight up in the chair, blinking his eyes several times before accepting the hand towel to dab the sweat off his neck and forehead. "Thanks. How'd I do?"
"You made a 2.6 minute improvement." I answer while typing the new data into the console. He cranes his head and I turn the swivel monitor to show him the graph. It is a very big improvement from his previous 16 minute and 28 second time. Candace did better.
I've not been here for most of their advancement, but Max requested I be a part of it now at the end of it and I had no reservations, or really, how they put it, 'I don't have anything better to do.'
I'm expected to just bounce back in with renewed purpose, to be refocused. I clench my jaw at the thought.
It is the exact opposite.
He removes the electrodes and drapes the cords over the armrest, giving me a wide, crinkly eyed smile.
Paul, 26, a transfer from Candor and a member of the active city patrol for 5 years now.
One of the three remaining leadership candidates, which include Eric and Candace. They've narrowed it down quite a bit and will possibly settle for all of them.
Dauntless usually has an odd number of leaders and 5 would be show of prosperity and strength or so says Max.
"Well done Paul, you're excused. We're sending Eric in now." I nod my head in confirmation to Falen's voice and wave my hand dismissively to Paul's 'See you later.'
My fingers flit over the keys to bring up Eric's file as he settles into the chair, un-zips the top of his jacket, and pulls down his shirt so I can place the electrodes, using careful movement as to not make skin on skin contact.
Two on his temples, one behind his left ear and one on his chest. I pay him less than a glance to check my work.
When I feel a slight tug on the hem of my sweater I frown down at the keyboard, his fingers curl around the fabric.
I feel that urge again however, the urge to wrap my hands around his throat. I believe Eric does this deliberately to garner reactions from Max and Falen.
Falen may have some agenda and used me in it, Eric has and is doing the exact same. I remain impassive.
"So I thought about us." Eric says, his eyes are already closed as he lies partially reclined, I swab his neck with alcohol antiseptic and he pulls a finger through my belt loop, drawing me closer to the chair.
"Is now really the time for a reconciliation?" Max asks incredulously. "Talk about your relationship on your own damn time-I'd like to be out of here in the next hour, thank you very much."
Eric smiles as I position the needle filled with the fear serum against his skin between inked blocks and push the plunger to empty its contents into his system.
He removes his hand from me to rest on the armrest and in 60 seconds the lights dim, I start the timer.
Instead of watching the screen and his fears I watch the digits on the watch face glow and drag until Falen's voice asks. "What do you think of the remaining candidates?"
"Impressive." Is all I reply, my answer lacked real conviction and sounded like I meant the opposite.
I have no real opinion on any of them, and I can honestly say I don't know any of them as I should.
My gaze travels to the heart rate display on the console. His pulse elevates and slows with his breathing. How empty his chest would sound without it beating against his ribs.
"Eric says you helped him get over a couple of his fears." Max chuckles, their constant conversation is exhausting my patience. "How did you manage that?"
I breathe out an annoyed huff and shake my head before logging the data from his previous evaluation as the comparison for the chart to be built on his progress from it.
"You aren't going to watch the rest of his fears? Maybe you can help him with those as well." Max goes on with a sly tone. "He's got like… How many more Falen? Then you guys would be practically perfect for each other."
I grit my teeth and grab the headset to put over my ears, I'll have to listen to Eric's fear landscape but I won't hear anymore of Max's immature teasing.
The first sounds I hear is of crashing waves and water. Soothing when you don't have a visual, but that and the splashing of a frantic swimer is oddly satisfying.
While I begin putting away the serum cartridges and the auto-injector device into the drawer under the console I hear the telltale sounds of a crackling and roaring flame.
It isn't much curiosity that brings my eyes to the screen but the sounds, a Dauntless afraid of fire?
In the end Dauntless are consigned to flame.
Glass explodes from large windows due to the lack of oxygen in what looks to be a standard Erudite laboratory, it's familiarity lies in how they all look the same, not much different from their hospital wings but I cannot deny the lingering discomfort that comes with recognizing that distinction. That I am so familiar with it.
Eric himself reminded me that it was not my first time in Erudite's hospital wing. Or laboratory.
Curtains incinerate instantly. Flames tongue and lick up the sides of the pasty white walls and curl around furniture, turning metals and wood a scorched black.
From Eric's perspective he is strapped to a gurney in the middle of the burning room.
I remove the headset to listen and watch in silence as he calms himself enough to stop struggling and let the flames eat away at his restraints.
But that is not what forces me to watch with unblinking eyes, unable to tear them away from the screen as the familiarity suddenly becomes a heavy weight over me.
I can almost feel the heat from the flames, blistering and boiling my skin. The smoke clogging and scratching my throat and lungs, while burning my eyes.
His fear manifests from a memory. One we both share. But, where he is trying to escape from, I had tried and failed to get inside.
I retch once more and clutch the rim of the toilet bowl as the bile makes it way up my stomach, through my throat and out of my mouth. It burns like smoke.
The splash of vomit and water wets my fingers. My skin crawls violently with the raising of my hairs over my body.
"Are you sure you don't want to go to the infirmary?" Jade asks me behind the closed door.
I tie my hair into a loose bun. I hear her gathering paper towel she slides them under the door and I ignore her as I sag to the ground between the toilet and the wall.
"I'm sure." I mutter, pulling the towel from the rack closest to me and using it to wipe my mouth.
The cool tile presses against my cheek, and I let my hands fall from the bowl to wrap my arms around my stomach, just staring at the white tiles till I can see them behind my eyelids.
Quiet, hushed voices pulse around me like a second heartbeat. Hurried, rushed, urgent whispers.
I am starting to feel short of breath as the revelations begin to work their way into my mind, as if bit by bit they peel layers from the inside of my skull, scraping them away.
The coincidence is far too overwhelming.
I feel something, writhing into the empty space where the knife had sunk into my abdomen, and all through the other spaces within.
I gasp, pressing both palms to my chest. I twist and put my head between my knees, breathing until the strangled feeling leaves me, though I clutch my sweater collar tighter around my throat as if I could choke it out myself.
"Can I get you anything?" Jade asks me again through the door with a tone full of concern.
I want to tell her to leave.
"A drink, maybe." I answer hoarsely, and she laughs.
"Alright, alright, let me fetch your prescriptions."
The room is still dim, the floor still cold and hard, my heart still beating faster than normal as I turn the information over and over in my mind.
"Do you have any eights?" Uriah asks from across the table.
I check the cards in my hand, I have one, but he's asking Lynn and I was instructed to only give my cards when they ask me. I've already made the mistake once.
"Go fish." She answers with a bored sigh before dropping her forehead to the wood. "Jay jay, do you have any… Idea why we're playing this boring ass game?"
They laugh and the cards get spilled over the table, the floor, or thrown into the air so I drop mine and grab my bottle to keep it from being knocked over by sweeping elbows.
I glance at my watch. Almost noon, I have about an hour before I'm required to check in at the infirmary with Garrett and then after that I will be briefed.
Everything else I've learned today pales in comparison and it's all I can think about.
Eric Coulter.
Coulter.
That was not the surname of the Erudite doctors that died.
Though I knew them, I did not know they had any children. I still doubt any relation to Eric and yet my mind refuses to cast it aside.
Wouldn't Garrett think it prudent to share that bit of info if he were related? Unless he did not know himself, he was not around that long ago.
Dauntless is one of the only factions with little regards to a foster system.
"Hey we're gonna go raid the cant, what do you want to eat?" Gabriel asks as he nudges me with his bare foot. I look up at him and shrug. "Alright, a whole chocolate cake, coming right up." He musses my hair before vaulting over the couch.
The door slams and the room is left emptier as most of the guests have left. I lean back against the couch and rest my head on the cushioned seat.
My foot taps the cold concrete as I find patterns in the ceiling and I check my watch once more.
I've never been impatient to the point of nervous movement, and even noticing my own displays I can't stop them myself.
I can't wait any longer. "Where are you going?" Jade asks as I begin kicking my boots on.
I look to her and Shauna sitting at the round table going through what I believe is a tattoo catalog and braiding each other's hair.
"The infirmary… I think I'll go after all." I answer as I run my fingers through my own hair to flatten it.
"Do you want some company? We could go with you." Shauna offers as I step around the couch to the door.
"No, it might take a while." I admit as I open it to leave, I turn from them and come face to face with Eric, standing right outside with his fist prepared to knock and his brow raised in a question.
"Oh yeah, it'll take a while huh?" I hear Jade call from inside. "Its against the rules now!"
I stop then and the air in my lungs hardens like cement as I stare into his eyes and I see the lighter blonde curls mixed into the light brown, smoothed straight down against his scalp with enormous amounts of hair gel.
There is nothing childish about his face though, no features to match with the innocence of that child.
Anything there had long gone with his time in Dauntless and left him chiseled and sharp, the severity of uniform black adding not just to his age but demeanor.
Have I ever really looked at him? Does he resemble that little boy trapped in the glass prison of Erudite?
I'd think not at all. Not even a little.
"Going somewhere?" He asks condescendingly. I nod, without conviction. "Or more importantly, why did you just fucking leave during my evaluation?"
The sickening ache in my gut that makes me want to puke, begins again. I feel the urge, familiar now, to wrench myself from my body, though, fluid expulsion is hardly a means to do so.
It is the same urge, I realize, that makes me want to kill him every time I see him, because even a sliver of distance between us is infuriating.
I can hardly stand to be near him. But, I close the door behind me, shutting us both into the hall.
"Your fears." I say truthfully without elaborating. To say all of them in general would be some measure of truth. I chastise myself for not watching them all before.
Another instance where repressing my curiosity put me at a severe disadvantage.
His eyes darken, and they slant a little at the edges when he narrows them at me. It may be an idle movement when he cracks his knuckles but the look he gives me is critical.
"What, you think you're better than me? Better than everyone?" He asks lowly. "Do you even recognize individuals apart from the whole of Dauntless?"
"I am capable of recognizing individuals." I reply with an argumentative tone. "What I have difficulties with are adhering to, and practicing the social conventions that accompany the different relationship dynamics…And understanding their fears and weaknesses. Additionally, I think our issues." I gesture between us, getting straight to the point. "Have… Escalated, on both an intellectual level and -"
I clear my throat a little, as if preparing to acknowledge out loud something uncomfortable and unreasonable.
I'm supposed to be refocused.
"You have no idea how Erudite you sound. Have you been drinking?" Eric laughs, his teeth a flash in the dimness. "Since you're so uncharacteristically chatty. I'm betting thats why you chose not to go through Dauntless leadership, isn't it?"
I nod my head, sure, whatever he says, but this is going off topic and I open my mouth to go back to the subject of his fears but he continues holding up a hand to silence me as if I am a child.
"I'm betting this is also why you dislike Erudite so much." He taps his chin with his fingers. "It's your self deprecation of the Erudite tendencies that you yourself display. The ones you fight so hard to repress."
"On the-" Without warning his hands grip my waist and I am forced against the wall. I immediately grasp his jacket but before I can shove him, he touches his forehead to mine.
I still.
The blue-ish gray of his irises shift and lighten, and the smile that spreads on his lips is playful, the barest hint of a dimple appears.
I close my eyes, unable to look any longer. I feel a deep silence grow inside me, unlike the one before it.
"If other aspects of Erudite can be used to explain you then I assume that's how you generate and select relationships as well, based on usefulness, compatibility, value, worth-"
"This is not-" He leans down and I tilt my head to dodge his mouth. His lips find my throat, and his hands smooth over me, securing themselves at my waist and lower back.
I am aware of the pressure of his mouth, and the texture of his skin as it connects with mine in grueling feathery light caresses, before growing hungry and insistent.
He speaks moving his mouth slowly up my jaw. "Do you really expect to find someone who knows you as well as I do, that would still touch you?"
Have I given him the impression that I wanted-Needed someone, something like that? How did we get to this?
He presses his hands to the wall, framing my head with his arms, and kisses me, slowly, on my mouth, under my jaw, right above my collarbone.
I stay still, like a statue, like I am not really here at all. Then his lips are on mine again, and he presses closer but despite the heat radiating off him, I feel colder.
His fingers slide into my hair as if to anchor me, he tilts my head up, and I hold on to his arms to stay steady as my pulse quickens, my nails dig into the fabric of his jacket but he takes that as encouragement.
He presses his palm to my lower back, pulling me closer. His fingers move slowly, tracing my spine through the bandage. My sweater creeps up my body, and I don't pull it down.
I don't know where the surge of anger comes from, except that I can feel it swirling around inside me, violent and vicious and the strongest I have ever felt.
It makes me feel like I really have lost control of what I have become, of what I could become.
That Eric is responsible. He had forced me to see what I am and what I am not.
I try not to blink; I try not to show any reaction at all even though my fingers begin to tingle and my blood seems to hum with fury, at him and at myself.
At him for making me recognize this gap inside me that I could have possibly lived and died without noticing. May possibly never be filled with anything other than darkness.
And at me, because, perhaps, it's always been there, this demon in me. This desire for companionship within it. To indeed bare myself wholly and be accepted.
Inside me is a beast that strains against the confinements of my composure. And as hard as I try, I cannot contain it now. My mind goes emtpy, deliciously empty.
I twist my fingers into his shirt. Our mouths mesh and part, teeth catching as if biting at each other like we would devour the other.
My tongue is thick and heavy against his as they battle for dominance, exploring opposite territories over the sharpness of teeth and flesh of lips.
His hand moves over my cheek, and then drags over my side, fitting to the bend in my waist, curving over my hip, sliding to my leg and under my knee to pull it around him as he pins me against the wall with his hips.
"Come with me." Eric says, through breathy huffs, I clutch the hair at the nape of his neck and his jacket collar. "You'll have plenty of time to play doctor with Garrett when you're an Erudite yourself."
That's when I remember what it was I couldn't stop thinking about and my thoughts refuse to be dimmed once more.