#anteric chapter three

[ilguna]

Anteric - Chapter Three (f.o)

summary: secrets have more worth than you gave them credit for.

warnings; swearing, BLOOD MENTION, FIGHTING, MENTION OF MURDER, GUN USE.

wc; 10k

NOTES; I give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

“There are two things that you will learn today.” It turns out that Laurel can be loud when she wants to be. Her voice projects across the room with little to no effort, “The first is how to shoot a gun.” she presses one into your palm and keeps walking, “The second is how to win a fight.”

The gun isn’t as heavy as it looks. You turn it over in your hand, thumb running over the sleek metal. When you look up, you can see that Finnick is mesmerised by it. You can’t decide whether or not that’s a good thing. At least neither of you are afraid of it, but you don’t think that you should be idolizing it. Then again, you probably shouldn’t underestimate it, either.

You suppose that you and Finnick will fit in just fine here. As long as Finnick doesn’t get too caught up in his dream, and you don’t keep overthinking it. It’s just a gun. 

“Initiation is divided into three stages! Like Caspian told you last night, we will measure and rank you depending on your performance in each stage. The stages are not all weighed equally in determining your final rank. So, it is possible to be at the bottom and wind up at the top. Don’t be fooled, it will not be an easy task to do.

“In Dauntless, we believe that preparation eliminates cowardice, which we define as the failure to act in the midst of fear. So, each stage of initiation will prepare you in a different way. Your first stage will be physical, your next will be emotional, and the third and final stage, will be mental.” Laurel stops pacing for a moment, turning to look at you all.

Finnick leans over, “How far do you think you can push your streak?”

“Hitting the target dead-on first try is like expecting a cold gust of wind in hell when it’s summer.”

Finnick snorts.

“I’ll show you how it’s done. And then you will practice until lunch.” Laurel says, turning toward the side of the room with the targets. They’re just squares of plywood with red circles on it. She spreads her legs slightly, holds up the gun away from her face, concentrates, and doesn’t hesitate when she fires. She gets the middle of the circle in the blink of an eye.

If she could do this, you wonder if everyone else inside of the faction can, too. This initiation process has been around for years. It just evolves the more that time goes on because of technology. So, every adult that you have come across so far, should technically know how to shoot. You don’t know whether to be afraid or not.

Finnick rubs his ear with an open palm after the sound of Laurel’s gun. It’s loud, you can feel it in your chest. You’re sure that it’ll only get worse, now that you’re all left to give it a try by yourselves.

“Do you think that you’ll be able to hit the bullseye?” you ask, barely glancing at Finnick.

You copy the way that Laurel had stood. You spread your legs apart a little, hold the gun away from your face, and point it straight at the target. As far as you can see, it should be lined up perfectly. But that’s not taking everything into consideration. You’ve never fired a gun before, and you’ve never seen it happen until now, when Laurel had used hers.

This is new to you. The chances of you actually being able to do this is one in a thousand. Unless you’re some sort of prodigy, which you highly doubt. Just because you’ve qualified for three factions, doesn’t mean you need to go inflating your own ego. You’re just the same as everyone here. Maybe a little better, personality-wise.

“You go first.” Finnick says, catching the attention of Thyme. She lowers her gun to watch too.

“Why me?” you whine, closing one eye to see if you can line it up better. No matter what happens, this is going to miss. It’s just a matter of whether or not you come close.

It’s worth a try.

You breathe in your nose a little when you pull the trigger, already flinching even before the recoil hits. The bang is loud enough to pop your ears, you end up with a wince on your face, arms sore. When you look back at the wood, you expect to see the bullet far away from the middle. In fact, maybe somewhere not near the target at all.

But the hole is on the second red circle, to the right.

A shot of energy goes through you, making you bounce on your toes excitedly.

“At this rate, you’re not going to have anything to worry about.” Finnick says, “I might have to keep my eye on you.”

“Yeah?” you ask, “Let’s see you give it a go.”

He gives you a boyish smile, Thyme backs off slightly. Finnick seems to have the form down, he holds the gun up and away from his face. The smile eventually fades from his face as he begins to focus. By the time he pulls the trigger, he’s gritting his teeth.

You try not to flinch this time. When you look at his aim, it’s better than yours. More than halfway to the circle that surrounds the center. You light up, elbowing him with a smile, “Hey! You’re better than me.”

It goes on like this for the rest of the morning. Round after round, you shoot bullet after bullet. All of them slowly inch towards the middle, but it takes a lot longer than you’d expect it to. By Finnick’s second round, he hit the middle three times in a row before finally falling off the streak.

You relax for a moment, rolling your shoulders. You know how you stood the first time you did it, and you think back to how Laurel had stood. She was relaxed, right at home. She can afford to be, though. She’s done this for years, she was taught how to shoot guns a while ago. You’re just learning.

You need to take it slower. 

You roll your wrists next, letting them ache when you get to a certain point. Finnick fires again, hitting the board. Two inches off the middle. Thyme fires and she’s still on the outer circle. Finnick fires again, he hits the middle. This will be you. You crack your neck.

“Okay.” you breathe, holding the gun up again. You spread your legs, relax your shoulders, and bend your arms a little. You place your finger over the trigger, and take in a small breath.

When you pull, the bullet hits the right side of the circle.

You adjust to fit what you need. Just a couple of centimeters to the left, you pull the trigger again. It’s too far over, you shift one more time. This is it, the last bullet before you have to call it a day today. You don’t know if you’ll ever get a second chance at this.

You pull the trigger hard, prepared for the recoil. 

The bullet sits directly in the middle.

A breath of relief leaves you. You’re not a total failure after all.

Laurel makes you all stand in a line, handing over your guns while she counts them. There must have been times in the past where initiates tried to hoard guns, you can’t see why she’d need to do it otherwise. When the number comes out to eight, you’re allowed to head over to the dining hall.

Finnick is giddy, of course, that he’s caught on to shooting so well. You decide that you’d much rather listen than actively participate in the conversation. You think that it would be easier to swallow if it weren’t for the fact that Thyme is literally asking him for advice, as if he has any to give. It was his first time shooting, does she think you guys do these types of things for fun?

Gun use in Abnegation is frowned upon. Not only is it a weapon, which resorts to violence. It’s also used as self defense, therefore it’s self-indulgent. If Reed could see you now, he’d be all sorts of pissed. He’d say something along the lines of, “Mom and dad raised you better than this.”

If they were still here, you’re sure that would have been a good enough excuse to stay in Abnegation. You think that Mox wouldn’t have left either. But it’s hard to stick to a place with so much negative energy. The more the years come on, the more Reed seems to sink into this hole of hatred. 

The dining hall is less crowded this afternoon, it’s easy pickings for where you want to sit. You pick the middle of a table, and then stare at the food that’s offered for you, debating whether or not you’re hungry. Finnick sits beside you, and seems to do the exact same thing.

“I was kidding yesterday.” he mutters, you think he’s referring to the chicken comment.

“This is all your fault.” you say, giving him a smile.

You grab a small portion of food at a table, not wanting to overdo it. Finnick does the same, and you’re glad to finally see that the gun conversation has ceased. He turns toward you to talk, leaving Thyme out to a certain extent. You can’t say that you feel bad for her. She’s been talking to him all morning, it’s only right that it’s your turn.

“What do you think’s next?” he asks, eating a forkful of carrots.

“Well, Laurel did say that we’d be learning how to win a fight.” you push the food around on your plate. None of it looks appetizing anymore, “I don’t think you really need to learn that, do you?”

In Abnegation, you never watched Finnick lose a fight. This boy has got more power than any of the Erudite and Dauntless kids that he fought. Sometimes, all it took was one punch and the other teenager would go down like a sack of flour. It’s pretty impressive when you’re not the one fighting him. You can’t imagine what it’s like being on the other end, though.

“Probably not, but it never hurts to learn it properly.” Finnick smiles, “And it’ll give you a chance to perfect your form.”

You give him a look. It was one time.

Last night, Caspian wasn’t kidding about where you’d be staying. However, he could’ve at least gave you a little more information about what it would be like so that you didn’t have to figure it out for yourself. He said that there’s ten beds inside of the room, which is correct, but technically they’re bunk beds.

Also, there’s absolutely no privacy anywhere. Not in the main room, where all the beds sit just mere feet from each other. And not in the bathroom, there’s absolutely no stalls. But don’t worry, there’s mirrors in there!

None of this would bother you, if it weren’t for the fact that you’re all sleeping in the same room together. Finnick chose the bottom bunk, you went ahead and picked the top. To his direct right is Thyme, who’s also sleeping on the bottom. And everyone else is scattered in their own corners, too.

Oh, which reminds you, you’ve finally got names to put to every face. The Erudite girl that died yesterday, her name is Elodia. She was apparently best friends with the other Erudite girl, Trink. The two Candor initiates that Trink has been inseparable from is Eytelle, the girl, and Allio, the boy. As for the other two Candor initiates, there’s Ossie, another girl, and Amos, another boy. So, there’s three boys and five girls. 

Anyway, since you’re all staying in the same room, you were able to hear the exact moment when Thyme bursted out crying. And that’s not the part that really gets to you. You can kinda sympathize with them for being upset over the fact that they might have chosen the worst faction to go for, even if their aptitude test thought that they’d be prepared for it.

No, the part you hated the most last night was the fact that the crying went on for over ten minutes. And right when Thyme had begun to settle down, getting quieter, someone else started crying. It wasn’t Finnick, but you have a feeling it was one of the other girls. Maybe Trink, because she lost her friend. Or possibly Ossie, because she doesn’t exactly look the type to be in Dauntless in the first place.

Then again, all of them can be full of surprises, you don’t know. What you do know, is that if it happens again tonight, you might just smother everyone with a pillow and decide to be the sole surviving transfer initiate from your Choosing Ceremony. It’ll eliminate the worry of not being able to pass the stages, and you’ll actually get a good night of sleep.

You might spare Finnick.

When Laurel decides that you’re all done eating, she brings you to a new room. This one is large, with a wooden floor that’s cracked and has a large white circle painted in the middle. On the far left wall is a chalkboard, with all of your names written in alphabetical order. From top to bottom, it goes: Allio, yourself, Eytelle, Trink, Amos, Elodia, Finnick and then Thyme. 

On another side of the room hangs black punching bags. Laurel has you line up behind them, she takes her time going to the middle so you all can see her, “Like I said this morning, you’ll be learning how to fight. The reason for this is to prepare you to act; to get you used to responding to threats and challenges. Which are instincts you’ll need, if you intend to live in Dauntless.

“We will go over techniques today, and tomorrow you will start to fight each other.” The talking between initiates stops, taking in what she said. All you can think about is every time you watched Finnick give a Dauntless teenager a black eye. You wonder how many of them chose to stay in Dauntless, “I’m glad I finally got your attention. If I were you, I’d pay attention today. Those of you who aren’t quick learners will wish you were. Like this morning, I’ll show you how it’s done, and then you’ll practice until six.”

Every punch she shows you, has a name. She’ll demonstrate it in the air first, and then she’ll punch a bag. Following are kicks, which she seems to have more power for. Every time she lands a hit on the punching bag, it’ll spin and rock, you think you can even see dust streaming down from the ceiling.

When it’s your turn to give it a try, you keep it in rotation. You’ll go through all the punches first, and then the kicks. You start over a couple of times, wanting to get your form and position down first. It’ll be the most important part of tomorrow. There’s eight of you, no one will be excluded from the fighting. And if you’re unsure of where you told your hands or where to place your feet, you’re going to be screwed.

The hitting gets harder once you think you can afford to try new combinations. A kick with a punch, maybe the other way around if it feels too uncomfortable. The longer you have at the punching bag, the more you realize just how fun it is. At first, it was unnatural, you’ve only thrown a couple of punches before. But now it seems like second-nature. 

“Very good, (Y/n).” Laurel says, passing behind you, ��Lower your fists from your face a little, and it’ll be perfect.”

You follow what she says. She’s right, this was the only thing that you were missing. When you throw punches from now on, it’s much easier. By the time six rolls around, your skin is sore and you can’t help but to rub your shins. They’re definitely going to be bruised somewhat. At least it’s not impossible to deal with.

“Laurel says we can go anywhere.” Finnick says, bumping his arm into yours on purpose, “Anywhere.”

“Is it possible to eat dinner first?” you ask, massaging your hands, “You can drag me around after that.”

“Hungry?”

“Mostly hoping that dinner is better than what they served us for lunch.” you give him a smile.

He grins back.

Dinner is much better. Soup, beef, carrots, potatoes, onions. You take your time eating, watching as Finnick has serving after serving. He’s lucky that there’s no limit as to how much you can eat. But he should probably show some more self-restraint, considering whatever he wants to do after this, might cause him to get sick. You eat two bowls before you call it good, while Finnick is just finishing up his seventh.

“Full yet?” you muse.

“I was mostly trying to figure out what I want to do.” Finnick sets his bowl on top of yours, collecting your spoon so that it can sit with his, “And I figured it out.”

“What is it?” Thyme asks, she’s leaning in slightly on the other side of the table.

There’s a mischievous grin that crosses over his face, “Piercings.”

“Oh,” Thyme falls back.

You snort, sliding out of the table, “What’re you going to get pierced?”

“My nose, probably.” Finnick joins you, “And then we can all go shopping.”

This morning, Laurel had provided everyone with clothing. Mostly practical stuff, like jeans, shirts, underwear, jackets, shoes, whatever. It’s all in black, naturally. But the only fitting clothing on you right now is the underwear. As for the shirts, jeans and shoes, they’re a bit bigger than you’d like them to be. It could also be another reason why it’s throwing off your groove.

Of course, this isn’t just a you problem, it’s an everyone problem. Finnick is wearing a shirt that’s a little too tight-fitting than he likes. If he pulls on the fabric, it snaps right back into place. Thyme’s jeans needed a shoelace to keep them up high enough. As for all the other initiates, they ended up in their own problems. You think that Eytelle, the tall Candor girl, is wearing clown shoes.

“Sure.” you agree.

The three of you leave the dining hall to go out to the Pit, which is currently crammed with, what looks like, the entire Dauntless population. You let Finnick lead the way up the narrow paths, and straight to a tattoo-piercing parlor. Every month, Dauntless gives everyone a certain amount of points they can use a month that works like cash.

Finnick talks to a guy at the counter with multiple piercings in his ears, and ones that make his earlobe stretch out far enough that you can see through the earring. Finnick points out a spot on his nose, the guy will say something back, until they seem to come to an agreement. Finnick turns to look at you and Thyme.

“Coming in?” he wiggles his eyebrows, “I know Thyme won’t get a tattoo or piercing, but what about you?” 

You give him a face, “I’ll think about it next time.”

“Chicken.” Finnick sings, backing into the parlor.

You purse your lips, watching as his face slowly gets more smug, “Fine, give me one good reason.”

“Because you still walk and talk like a Stiff.” Finnick says.

His eyebrows are raised, he knows that he’s won it. Stiff is a term, normally derogatory, used towards Abnegation faction members because of how stuck-up you are--or, were. There’s a lot of restrictions in Abnegation. Piercings, tattoos and brightly colored hair is self-indulgent. Talking loudly, laughing, or even playing games is distracting. Hell, even relationships are frowned upon, not supposed to be public because they’re nuisances. 

Finnick is wrong on some parts. You don’t talk like you’re in Abnegation, otherwise your voice would be hushed whispers and you wouldn’t laugh like the rest of these people. You didn’t complain about the guns, or defending yourself. You didn’t cry last night because you were afraid. You even pushed through things that you’re normally afraid of to fit right in.

The other parts are much more difficult. You think of yourself as a chameleon. Before all of this, before you had switched factions, you also seemed to fit in just fine as an Abnegation member. You said so yourself. But now you’re in Dauntless, you’re fitting in too. You wonder what it would have been like in Erudite, how easy it would have been for you to blend in there too.

The obvious reason for this is the Divergence.

And Laurel told you not to stand out. It’s dangerous. You don’t want to know what she meant by that exactly. All you have to do now, is make sure that it doesn’t happen again. You’ll have to do better at making yourself hidden.

You give Finnick a smile, heading towards the parlor.

“Hey--wait!” Thyme grabs your arm, stopping you from going, “I thought me and you could go shopping while we wait for him.”

“You know you can get your ears pierced, right?” you ask her, grabbing her wrist and pulling her with you, “One baby step at a time.”

Inside of the parlor, you’re matched with a different guy. You settle on a nose stud, thanks to his suggestion. You’re mostly worried about what might happen to it starting tomorrow. With a ring, like Finnick’s getting, there’s more of a chance of it getting ripped out. The stud will still sparkle in light, and it won’t be as irritating. Thyme goes ahead and gets both of her ears pierced on the lobe.

Walking out, Finnick’s nose is still bleeding. Thyme looks happy with her silver flowers, and you resist the urge to itch the new wound on your face. Thyme brings you and Finnick to a store that she’d been eyeing for a while. Honestly, you can’t tell the difference between any of it. One black clothing store to another. It’s all just as bland as the grey Abnegation clothing.

You find high-waisted skinny jeans, throwing them over your arm. You pick out a shirt that looks like it’s your size, and disappear into a changing room to make sure it fits. All clothing back home is baggy, in Dauntless it’s supposed to stick to your skin. Before, size didn’t matter when it came to clothes, only that it didn’t get in the way of your volunteer work. 

Surprisingly, you picked out the right size the first time around. The jeans feel comfy on your hips, the sleeves of the shirt are fairly loose and don’t cut off circulation in your arms. You pay for it with your points, and then go right back to hunting for tennis shoes. 

Finnick finds his clothes soon after, joining you on a bench while you go through shoe boxes. Thyme goes in and out of the dressing room, not being able to find a pair of jeans that fit. It’s comical, watching her pace the aisles. Eventually she gives up and has to ask for help. 

You stand from the bench, kicking the shoes around, bending and walking in them. They fit well, and there’s space at the top so that your toes aren’t crammed. You pay for the shoes too, Finnick buys everything that he’s wearing. The two of you dump your clothes in separate black bags, you suggested wearing them to bed so that you won’t have to genuinely live in these clothes.

As soon as Thyme is done, the three of you head back to the room.

“Who do you think we’ll be paired up with tomorrow?” Thyme asks, looking over to you two.

Finnick shrugs, and then gives you a glance.

“I have no clue, don’t look at me like that.”

“Except you’re really good at taking guesses.” Finnick says, “So guess.”

He’s wrong, you think. You’re not good at guessing, you’re good at narrowing down the possibilities and choosing the ones that seem most likely. And you keep doing it until you’re down to one solution. Which is definitely not an Abnegation response to problems, it’s an Erudite one. Finnick has unintentionally picked up on it.

You give out a sigh anyway, “Well, I think Laurel likes us enough, so she’ll start off easy and try to match us with people that are like us.” you look at him, “Good enough?”

“Good enough.” Finnick smiles.

--

When you got up this morning, the first order of business that Laurel had you doing was practicing shooting guns again. For several hours straight, you got to watch Finnick get better and better at hitting the middle. At first, you weren’t entirely bothered, but the irritation started to fester when Thyme kept praising him. You were too happy for it to be over, even after your aim improved considerably.

Now, you all stand together inside of the punching bag room from yesterday.Laurel stands in front of the chalkboard, smoothly writing on it. The only sound that fills the room is the sound of the chalk hitting the board as she writes your names down next to each other. She wasn’t lying when she said that the real initiation would start today.

Last night you said Laurel might like you enough to pair you with someone that would be easy to beat. You’re not as confident anymore. Caspian stands off to the side of the room, watching Laurel. You might have been happy to see a familiar face in Dauntless two days ago, but you haven’t forgotten the things that Caspian said to you when you were a kid. It’s impossible to, all he did was add to your growing hatred.

As far as you can tell at the moment, Caspian is almost the same guy he was before he switched to Dauntless. Before, he was mean, thought he was funny, and convinced himself that he was the shit. He has his moments where he can genuinely be likeable, but it’s always some sort of honeymoon faze. He can ruin it as fast as you can snap your fingers. And he’s good at hiding that mean side of his personality, but it can show out in little bits and pieces. Like sunshine peeking through clouds.

“Lucky for all of you, no one has to sit out.” Laurel says, she’s finishing up.

Finnick spins the nose ring with his thumb, you shove your hands into your pockets to keep from digging your nails into your palm, Thyme rocks back and forth on her feet.

“Which means hardly any days off.” Laurel places the chalk onto the metal stand, and then moves out of the way.

You suck in air through your teeth, eyes going over the list. It’s short, only four rows.

Allio and Ossie.

Thyme and Amos.

Eytelle and Finnick.

You and Trink.

“Oh great, you’re paired with an asshole.” Finnick says, referencing the nickname you two gave Erudite’s on the train here, yesterday. “You’ll get to kick her ass before I do.”

Caspian definitely organized this, Laurel might have had some say in it. You can see the strategy here. Allio and Ossie are similar in height, but different in personality, weight and muscle. Thyme and Amos are both pretty short and scrawny, Eytelle is taller than Finnick, but they’re the only ones close in height. The only reason why you think you’re paired with Trink is because of height.

You look at Caspian, he’s already staring at you. His face is straight for a moment, before his lip twitches into a smirk.

No, you change your mind. Height was a coincidence with her. There’s more behind this, more secretive, and you think it has layers. The first is obvious, this is a gift from Caspian. You told him about his family back home, offering up the information without a single question or prompt from him. You even made it sound like they were part of your family.

The second layer is more subtle. Caspian might not have been great with Abnegation ideals, much like Finnick, but you all have a soft spot for the place you called home for years. Caspian doesn’t like that Erudite is talking shit about Abnegation, but he can’t say anything about it. There’s no question that you don’t like what’s happening either. And since he can’t punch the smug Erudite look off of Trink’s face, you have to. 

More or less, you’ll get to defend Abnegation’s honor by kicking Trink’s ass. 

This time, Caspian’s wrath isn’t being focused on you. Trink isn’t even going to know what hit her. Well, she will. You’ll be the one hitting her.

You look over at Trink, not being able to hide the smile on your face, “At least you get to pick on someone your own size. Enjoy the challenge while you can.”

Finnick lets out a laugh.

Ossie and Allio meet each other in the center of the white circle. They raise their fists up, and shuffle in a circle like you were taught to. When Allio realizes that Ossie isn’t going to make the first move, he jerks forward to punch her. It was a ruse, Ossie moves out of the way and slams her elbow into the back of his neck.

Okay, maybe Ossie isn’t as weak as you thought she would be. You, Finnick and Thyme watch the way she moves, how easy she’s able to dodge his attacks. Allio is clumsy on his feet, Ossie can dance circles around him, and she practically does, with how quick she moves. However, the moment that Allio gets one good hit on her, she’s down.

She lays on her back, hand spread over her cheek as she grimaces. Her face is turning red, you can’t imagine the tooth pain she’s having at the moment. You all look at Laurel and Caspian to see that they’re unmoving from the board.

“Shouldn’t they call it?” Finnick leans over, whispering.

You tilt your head, “I think we just unlocked a new rule.”

You’re right, Caspian shifts on his feet and lets out an annoyed sigh through his nose, “The fight isn’t over until one of you can’t move!”

“Or you can give up and suffer the consequences.” Judging by the tone of Laurel’s voice, it isn’t much of an option.

This is worse than it was before. You thought that enough punches to Trink’s face would knock her down, and the fight would be over. But if you’re going to be beating each other to near death…

Allio turns back on Ossie, a smile growing on his face. She sees his expression and gets to her feet. Her face is already swelling, you can imagine that there’s going to be a pretty bad bruise on her face tomorrow. She raises her fists again, and goes right back to what she was doing before. Except, she’s clearly trying to piss Allio off. She’ll look like she’s going all in, and then she'll pull back in time for Allio to make a fool of himself.

Her antics get her in trouble, though, because all it takes is one bad move, and Allio grabs a hold of her throat, stopping her in her tracks. She grabs his wrist with one hand, raising her foot to kick him in the stomach with the other. Allio barely flinches, lifts her, and then slams her into the wood ground.

A crack fills the air.

Allio’s heavy breathing is the only thing that you can hear. 

When Ossie doesn’t immediately get up, or even turn over, Laurel starts forward. Caspian’s arms are crossed, he watches as she kneels next to Ossie. Her fingers barely touch the floor, and she’s immediately recoiling. Laurel stares down at her hand, and you can see in the light, that it’s shiny.

“He cracked her head open.” you say.

Laurel seems to come to that conclusion too, because she wraps her arm around Ossie’s back, and then under her legs. Laurel rocks back and forth, raising from her shins, to her knees, to her feet. Caspian gives one nod to Laurel before she walks out. Then, she turns towards the chalkboard.

He circles Allio’s name in white.

“Thyme and Amos!” Caspian shouts.

“What about the blood?” Amos asks, moving forward. Thyme is still stuck to the other side of Finnick.

Caspian makes a sound, and it isn’t one of discontent. More that he’s realizing that the blood will end up being a problem. So, he pulls the towel off of the chalkboard stand, and throws it at Amos. Amos barely catches it, stares down at the black towel, and then drops it on the pool of blood. It isn’t much, Ossie had only been laying there for a few seconds. When he’s sure that it’s dried up enough, Amos kicks the towel across the room to get it out of the way.

“I can’t do this.” Thyme says, her voice is quiet.

“You have to.” Finnick gives her a push, “The two of you are practically the same, just use what you learned yesterday.”

It’s easy for Finnick to say that, he’s excited to get put up against Eytelle. You can tell by the way he shifts on his feet, plus the smile hasn’t left his face since he learned that he’d be going up against her. Finnick loves a challenge.

Thyme hangs her head slightly, but joins Amos in the circle. For a moment, they stare at each other, unsure if either of them want to commit to this. Then, Thyme raises her fists, tilts her head, and starts shuffling. Amos follows her, slowly drawing closer.

You bite the nail on your thumb, “So what’s your strategy going to be?”

“Probably going to knock her out as fast as possible. I think it’ll land me directly on top.” Finnick gives you a grin.

“We’re still aiming for a streak?” 

“I think we blew it during the gun training.” Finnick laughs, you join in.

Thyme jerks forward, bringing her leg up to slam into Amos’ side. 

“What’s your strategy?” 

You tilt your head, “Probably going to draw it out as long as possible. It’s my only chance to kick the shit out of an Erudite so I figure that I’ll make the most out of it.”

“I’m sure Caspian and Laurel will be thrilled.”

Amos reaches to grab Thyme’s hair, but she slams her fist straight into his nose. He stumbles back, hands flying to contain the blood that’s beginning to gush out. Amos’ eyes widen, landing on Thyme. She raises her fists, you can see the ghost of a smile..

After this, he continuously backs away from Thyme. She doesn’t look like she’s bothered by this, she just keeps getting closer. And the moment he’s within arms reach, is the moment he messed up. She jumps at him, grabbing his shirt, which hangs off his body loosely. You bet that he didn’t bother to go out and get a new shirt or clothes last night. Hopefully this will teach him a lesson. That he’s easily grabbable when the clothes don’t fit.

She yanks Amos forward, spins him around and sweeps a foot out from beneath him. Amos hits the ground almost as hard as Ossie did, but he’s still conscious. Thyme raises her foot, kicking Amos in the ribs. He groans, one arm flying to protect the spot, while the other goes to catch her new kick. 

She changes her mind last second, dropping to her knees and raising her fist so quickly that it’s a blur. Amos raises his arms to protect his face, so she settles for a dead-on hit to his chest. You let out a groan, feeling the ache in your own chest. Amos wheezes, Thyme punches him in the face. Over and over.

The sounds coming from Amos are less than pleasant.

“That’s going to be you.” Finnick says.

“Yeah?” you ask, but don’t say anything else. 

You don’t even want to know if he means that you’re going to be Thyme, or if you’re going to be Amos. Although, you’re not really sure that it matters. Either you’ll lose yourself to the fight, or you’re going to get the shit kicked out of you.

Thyme falls back on her heels, rubbing her bloody knuckles. She lifts the end of her shirt, all eyes fall on Caspian to see what he has to say. He stares at Amos for a little, Thyme pushes herself to her feet.

“Get him out of the ring.” Caspian finally says, circling Thyme’s name.

Allio and Thyme work together, getting Amos upright. He doesn’t stay on his feet for long, as soon as he’s out of the circle, he’s sitting on the floor. He’s sniffing, which might be from him crying, or it might be him trying to get his nose to stop bleeding. You’re not sure if it really matters which one it is.

“Eytelle and Finnick.” Caspian motions.

There’s no blood to clean up this time. You give Finnick a firm pat on the back, “Kick some ass.”

Thyme stands next to you, her fingers massaging the skin over her knuckles. If she thinks it hurts now, it’s only going to feel worse tomorrow. Not to mention, if you’re going to be doing this multiple times for evaluation, all of your knuckles are going to be split and sore. You can’t imagine the amount of injuries you’ll experience during initiation

You’re going for none, but it’s not all that realistic.

Finnick cracks his knuckles, the smile on his face disappears, “You know, I’ve never fought a Candor before. They always whine like bitches.” he raises his fists, “So tell me, are you going to cry?”

Eytelle isn’t amused, she raises her fists, “I’m taller than you.”

“You think height matters?” Finnick’s face darkens, “It’s a matter of experience.”

And he has too much for a former Abnegation member.

Finnick bounces on his toes, watching the way Eytelle moves. She’s clearly eager, moving forward. But the moment he goes to match her, she seems to back down. She’s wary. You guess that she’s taking Finnick’s word for it all, which isn’t a bad idea. You think that you’d rather take the word of the other person just to be safe. Then again, it could make you be overly cautious in the end.

There’s only so much dancing that Finnick can take. He stops letting Eytelle take the initiative and starts moving at her like a shark. Because of the smooth way he moves, you can’t tell what he’s going to do next. He could punch her, or kick her, or jump at her. He doesn’t twitch. This is the side of Finnick that you’re always so amazed at.

All of his moves are calculated. He’ll move right, and appear on the left. He slams his fist into the shoulder she favors more. She winces, rolling the shoulder to get feeling back in it. When she holds up her hands, it’s awkward now. Finnick strikes again, this time going for her upper arm, which falls completely limp.

It’ll be hard to punch him if she can’t feel the arm at all.

Eytelle goes to punch with her left hand anyway. Finnick catches her wrist, twisting her arm at a painful angle. Finnick pulls her closer, and slams his fist right across her jaw. Her head jerks backward, a gurgle sound leaving her throat. Finnick does it again, much harder this time. It’s enough to make her knees buckle.

He lets go of her, letting her hit the floor. Eytelle doesn’t move.

Finnick wipes his hands off on his jeans, and then fixes his hair. You’d say that this fight lasted less than five minutes. Faster than Ossie and Allio, and faster than Thyme and Amos. When it’s your turn, you’re going to make sure it’s painful. 

Caspian goes ahead and circles Finnick’s name.

A couple of seconds later, Eytelle groans, which means that no one will have to drag her out of the ring, but Allio and Trink go to help her anyway. Eytelle vaguely complains about being dizzy, so she sits on the floor too, hand placed over her jaw. 

The door on the far side of the room opens to reveal Laurel. She comes in without Ossie, so you figure that she’s either with some sort of doctor. Normally, hospitals are far away, but it’s Dauntless. They have to have someone closeby, especially with the cave that they live in.

She stands in her spot by the chalkboard.

“(Y/n) and Trink.”

Finnick grabs your arm, turning you away from the circle to speak, “You probably remember, but keep an eye on the way she moves. She’s also Erudite, so she’s got a hundred strategies or whatever.”

He straightens up, “Alright, good luck, wreak havoc.”

You snort. On the way to the circle, you crack everything that you can think of. Fingers, neck, knuckles. You stretch your muscles next, shoulders, wrist, knees and ankles. You’ve only fought someone else once. Once.

“Scared?” Trink asks, she lets a lock of her blonde hair fall black into place.

You bend your knees back and forth, raising your fists, “Don’t need to be. I know a couple of things myself.”

You give her a smirk.

Trink raises her fists, “You’re bluffing.”

“We’ll see.”

In Abnegation, Finnick was always the one to get physical with people he didn’t like at the school. Most of the time, he wouldn’t immediately turn to fighting. But if the situation kept getting worse, and the person didn’t notice all the warning signs that were coming from him, he’d resort to it easily. Corner them in the hallway, and tell them that if they want to run their mouth, then they can reap what they sow. People were always stupid enough to see what he meant.

You said that the rules of fighting were simple, and the first one was to always make sure that there were no witnesses. Except, Finnick would always bring you. You would be his alibi if he needed it, and the excuse would automatically be a factionless man needing help, that’s why you were late getting home. You only used the excuse once.

So, you’ll have to say that you’ve seen Finnick fight many times. You’ve watched the way he throws punches, the way he holds himself with confidence. How he’ll never give away his moves before he does them. It’s like they’re all thought out beforehand. He doesn’t want to drag a fight on, there’s only so much time the excuse can cover. In watching him, you’ve learned a lot.

Eventually, an opportunity of your own sprouted, and it happened right after your father died, which was only a couple of months after your mother had passed. Mox had just switched to Amity, so that was buzzing around. And an Erudite girl caught whiff of the problems that were being kicked up in your house. You don’t know how she found out any of it, but whoever told her was a fucking asshole.

The girl started with talking shit about Abnegation, about how the faction raised your brother to be weak, and that’s why he couldn’t say. You weren’t bothered by this, you had already grown used to not speaking about Mox. You wouldn’t break your streak just because some girl thought it would be fun to start talking shit. Even Finnick didn’t think that it was worth worrying over. The two of you thought she would stop.

But then her focus shifted to your father. 

In Abnegation, you are supposed to serve the people around you. In the eyes of the faction, your father died a death that was noble. It was not through war, but in a moment of kindness, of a helping hand. Your father had stopped to help one of the factionless, and in turn, they killed him. 

They never found the killer.

The Erudite girl was right in thinking that it would get a quick reaction out of you, because it did. Finnick was the one who told the girl where to meet you. All you did was go out there and wait, with Finnick leaned up against some tree in the shade.

Before she arrived, you had no intention of actually fighting her. You were going to tell her to knock it the fuck off before she did something she would regret. Then she showed up with this smug ass look on her face, and all reason washed away from your  body at once. 

Unlike Finnick, you only needed to fight once. 

You left the girl bloody and swollen, laying in the middle of the grass, barely able to keep her eyes open. For a moment, you stood over her body, staring down at her, wondering if anything really needed to be said. But your actions spoke for themself, that she had picked a fight she couldn’t win. You left her there, walked home with Finnick, and the next day at school, you didn’t see her. 

In all honesty, you never had trouble with anyone after that, either.

There’s a big difference between now and then, though. Then, you were pissed and you had a great reason to be. Now, you’re fighting just because someone is telling you. 

No, you have a good reason now, too. You don’t want to be factionless. Trink is one of the many obstacles standing in your way to becoming a member of Dauntless. You think that’s a good enough reason.

You bounce from side to side, feeling the burn in your calves. Finnick said that Trink would have a thousand strategies thought up because she’s Erudite. But you’re part Erudite too, you could have qualified if you wanted to. So, in order to win this, you need to think like she does, even more so than usual.

You told her you know a few things yourself, she’s going to assume that you learned from Finnick, or the two of you often work together when it comes to fights. Which is wrong. Finnick likes his fights to be clean cuts, the faster he knocks out his opponent, the faster he can do something else. It’s also a display of dominance, one hit and his victim falls. The person is never stupid enough to come back twice. 

Finnick let Eytelle start the fight. So, you will be the one to start this.

You move forward, letting the smile go. You need to focus.

Trink shuffles, her left hand is raised higher than the right. She’s left handed, which means you shouldn’t focus on her right. It also looks like she was suffering the same problem that you were before Laurel corrected you. Her hands are too high. 

You keep moving closer, trying to keep your eyes on her face as much as you can. All you have to do is throw a punch at her left hand. It’ll smack her in the face, and then you can really get the show started.

Trink’s right leg twitches.

You jump back in time for it to barely miss you. Change of plans. You grab a hold of her leg, push it up, and swing down low enough to catch her other foot. She loses her balance, hands slapping onto the wood. She doesn’t say down long enough for you to kick her, right back onto her feet.

Her hands are back into place.

You launch at her, punching her hands. Her head knocks back briefly, you squeeze your fists tighter. She goes to retaliate, you block, and then swing your fist straight into her jaw. You’ve got to go harder than this. This isn’t bringing her down. She stumbles back, hands already going back to where they were before.

Trink moves quickly, you’re not able to catch her hands in time. One second, she’s slow, the next there’s an explosion across your nose. Pain prickles across your entire face, making your face feel like it’s a hundred degrees. And then there’s a gushing feeling.

You want to call a time-out as you back up, fingers finding your nose. You plead that it’s not broken, because you won’t be able to handle a crooked nose. It’ll throw you off beat. You’re lucky, because you find that it’s tender, your piercing is still in-tact, and the liquid rushing from your nose is obviously blood. It’s not enough to make you worry, only slightly distracting. You think that the piercing wound is contributing to the problem.

You wipe under your nose, and fling the blood towards the floor, lifting your hands up again. She’ll have to try harder than this to upset you.

There’s a couple of spots that you’re sure would get back at her. Her ribs, her nose, her teeth, her jaw, her eyes. You know that anything to her ear or the side of her head will immediately be enough for her to pause. You just need a way to get there. An opening.

Trink moves towards you now, and you let her. You’re not afraid of her punching you again. You want her to try. You keep where you are, only shuffling in the circle. One step closer, and then another. She could swing if she really wanted to. She must be going for something else. You’re not sure what, but does it really matter?

She barely brings her hand down. You dodge the attack, and then your hand hits her cheek bone. And then her jaw. She pushes you off of her, you bring your knee into her side, sweep her feet, and let her fall. You bring your foot back, hitting her stomach, and then her ribs. She’s not on her back just yet, not open enough for you to be on top of her.

Fine.

You swing your foot up towards her face, she’s not able to catch it in time. 

Her head flies back, shoulders hitting the wooden floor. 

The Erudite girl you fought a while back was in much worse condition than this.

The fight isn’t over. Trink brings herself to her elbows, eyes on your face, squinting. Her vision must be blurry. Unfortunately for her, it’s about to get so much worse. She’s still kicking, which means that you need to be too.

You slam your foot into her side, and then sit on top of her hips. You bring your fist up, watching the blood from your nose land onto her chin. Payback. First is her nose, bleeding. Next is straight to her mouth. After is her cheek, settling for a black eye. She goes to punch up once, aiming for your throat. You grab her arm and twist.

“Give up.” you tell her, twisting harder, “Give up!”

Her face is twisted in pain, mouth open as she pants. When you force it harder, she lets out a scream.

Half her body is twisted one way, her cheek pressed against the wooden floor. The other arm is pinned behind her, she wouldn’t be able to get it, even if she tried. You’ve got the upper hand.

You curl your hand into a fist, eyes landing on her temple, “Well, don’t say I didn’t give you a chance.”

Your fist hits the side of her head hard enough for your knuckles to feel like they’ve broken. The tension falls from Trink’s body, you let go of her arm. When you get to your feet, your immediate focus is your nose and the blood coming from it. You squeeze the bridge, tilting your head back slightly.

One look at Caspian, and he’s giving you a nod of approval. He circles your name.

You head toward Finnick and Thyme. In order from most to least damaged, you’re most, Thyme is in the middle, Finnick is least. There’s not a single scratch on him.

Before you can say anything, Finnick’s directing your chin up so that he can examine your face. You watch his eyebrows draw in, “Doesn’t look like it’s broken.”

“It hurts to move, obviously.” you say, “I think the piercing isn’t helping.”

“Probably not.” Finnick lets you free, “It could be worse, the stud could’ve ripped your nose open.”

You give him a smile.

“You were really good.” Thyme says, she’s still playing with her hands.

“Yeah, congrats!” Finnick grins, “Tapped into your raw power, huh?”

“That, and I’ve got a problem with Erudite’s.”

When you turn around to look, Trink is just barely turning over, a hiss leaving her lips. She presses her open hand to the side of her head and closes her eyes. Now her friends go to collect her. With Allio slinging one of Trink’s arms over his shoulder. Trink can hardly keep upright, leaning into him heavily.

Amos is finally on his feet, his nose no longer bleeding. Eytelle is still nursing her jaw, and you catch the glare that she’s giving Finnick. You crack up, elbow Finnick, and then jerk your head in their direction. Finnick looks too, and you can hear a snort come from him.

“Something tells me that they’re mad.”

“Yeah? What gave that away?”

“I don’t know, maybe the bruises forming on their faces?” Finnick suggests.

Caspian claps his hands, “The rest of the day is yours! See you bright and early for fighting tomorrow morning!”

You grab a hold of Finnick’s sleeve for a second, “I’m going to talk to Caspian. I’ll catch up.”

“We’ll wait for you outside of the door.” he wiggles his eyebrows, “No promises that I won’t eavesdrop.”

You roll your eyes, pushing him.

You watch as everyone slowly leaves the room, except for Laurel and Caspian, who still stand at the chalkboard. When the door shuts, concealing the last person, you finally speak, partially ignoring Laurel.

“You couldn’t have made it more obvious, you know.”

Caspian stares at you for a moment, “The proper response would be ‘thank you’.”

“I don’t need your help.” you snap, “And I don’t want it, either. I can take care of myself. I’m just letting you know that your hatred for Erudite’s is a clear sign that you’re still attached to Abnegation.”

He doesn’t say anything, and you don’t need him to.

You turn and leave the training room, the door sweeping shut behind you. Like promised, Finnick and Thyme are waiting for you in the hallway. They’re talking about who they might be paired up with tomorrow. You can start your guessing now, but you’d rather worry about it tomorrow.

“How was it?” Finnick asks.

You give him a shrug, not really in the mood. You already knew that Caspian giving Trink to you was a gift, but you didn’t think that he’d demand a thanks. What an asshole. It’s been five years and he still hasn’t changed. You need to keep him at a distance.

Finnick doesn’t nag you, but judging by the look he gives you, he won’t be letting this go. You can expect him to ask about it later, which you actually prefer. At least then you’ll be cooled down enough. Plus, you’re not too entirely sure you want Thyme entering your business just yet. It’s been two and a half days.

You wonder how Reed and Alyssum are coping.

Actually, you don’t think you have to wonder. 

Alyssum has noticed the difference, she’s three, which means she’s old enough to comprehend the fact that you’re not there. In fact, she might have even asked Reed where you’ve gone, no doubt earning some sort of stern glare from him, trying to silence her. The problem is, she’s still little, she doesn’t understand it to that extent.

You’re sure that no one has mentioned you, in courtesy of Reed. Abnegation is all for not inconveniencing others, and bringing up an event that’s usually frowned upon is like reminding the person of the stain on their family’s reputation. It’s two-timing now, too. First it was Mox, and now you.

Naida might be talking about it with Reed. As far as you can remember, before your parents died, he wasn’t a naturally curious person. This is why he’s a good fit for Abnegation, he’ll take the orders he’s given, and just do it without question. Volunteer work, a government job if he was elected, whatever Abnegation might want him to do. However, this doesn’t mean that he hasn’t turned to Naida to ask her questions. To see if she saw it coming at all.

She’s a mother of five, she’s raised two kids so far that have switched factions. She must have picked up on the mannerisms somehow. Calandra, her oldest, went to Erudite. Normally that would mean she was showing signs of high intelligence, especially in high school. She might not have been able to bring books home to continue her studies in the comfort of her own bedroom, but that doesn’t mean she couldn’t be in the honor classes in high school. 

You think you vaguely remember that being the case for her. Honestly, you weren’t really paying attention to her because she’s not your direct family. Of course, you would sometimes see her during holidays or dinners with her entire family before and after your parents were still alive. You really only began paying attention after she left, she was the first person you knew from everyday life that transferred. The second person was Caspian, who obviously ended up in Dauntless.

At this point, you think that Naida might have seen something in your interactions, but chose not to say anything because you probably confused her. You aren’t all Abnegation, you aren’t all Dauntless, and you definitely aren’t all Erudite. You showed traits from all three, two of which, her own children had shown signs of too.

Now that you’re thinking about that, you think that might be a problem, considering that if being Divergent is supposed to be dangerous, you were giving her mixed signals for years. And you might not have known the terminology for what you are exactly, but that doesn’t mean that all the adults in your life don’t. Reed and Naida, and Amon probably do. Amon more than anybody because he’s involved in the Abnegation government.

You think that this is the extent of Reed’s curiosity, though. He might be wondering if he could have spotted the signs earlier, and if Naida tells him anything--if he even asked--then he’ll try to do better with Alyssum. Since Reed is one of the Abnegation members that fully believe in Abnegation’s faction supremacy. 

As for missing you, there might be another spot in his heart that’s empty. You think that if Reed had known that both of your parents would die, he wouldn’t have stayed in Abnegation to be responsible for the teenagers and kids that would eventually leave him. The thing is, he’s not the only person that this happens to. Parents in Abnegation have this happen to them all the time, especially when they only have one kid. It’s not really preventable. 

Your mother’s death was unfortunate, modern medicine couldn’t save her. Your father’s death was accidental, as he was just helping someone like he used to do all the time on his walk home from work.

Reed could be regretting all the times he was too harsh on you. You think that you inherited the overthinking from him. He always sits in silence, so any questions must make him hesitant, but his actions can’t show that. And since you’ve always been forced into silence, not allowed to ask questions, you’ve been left to make up scenarios of what possible outcomes could be.

In this case, Reed might be eligible for Erudite. He has been taught not to ask questions, which would make him more prone to curiosity. Then again, he fits in too well into Abnegation to be just Erudite alone…

Does divergence run in the family?

--

ANTERIC IS A SPIN-OFF DIVERGENT AU //MASTERLIST//

add yourself to the TAGLIST

@amixedwitch / @justthatfangirloverthere / @fnnshelbys / @neenieweenie / @vxntae / @liaaacantwrite

[yankbarry]

Yank Barry, Motivated By Past Sins, Becomes A Philanthropist

Mr. Barry strode over to the shy teenager, Ali Djilm, and shook his hand. Ali smiled and lifted his black jacket to expose the scar. “Wow,” said Mr. Barry with a sympathetic moan. “Poor boy!”

In his life, Mr. Barry has been many things: singer, music producer, sports agent, businessman, drug abuser. Now he is becoming a do-gooder celebrity in Bulgaria, giving sympathy, a home and personal pep talks to dozens of Syrian families who otherwise would be stuck in primitive refugee camps.

“Doing this is a rush for me, like putting out a hit record,” said Mr. Barry, whose charitable foundation has rented one suburban Sofia hotel for his new charges and is looking into renting another.

As the Montreal-born businessman describes this latest chapter in his chameleon-like life, he is now clean and making up for past sins by helping the poor and the needy wherever they are through his charity. That involves taking Syrians out of Bulgarian refugee camps, putting them into decent hotels, feeding them and hiring nurses and guards to ensure they are healthy and safe. It also means taking an active role in their lives.

When Yank Barry is in town, he visits them every day and encourages them to shape up and find jobs so they can integrate into Bulgaria or elsewhere in Europe.

Ali, one of the latest additions, had spent 12 days in the hospital after being stabbed at the refugee camp where he was staying, and was still obviously in pain when Mr. Barry swept up him and his mother and took him to the Oasis Hotel in the Sofia suburb of Bankia.

The Oasis – three storeys, white stucco, black marble floors, apparently 1970s vintage – has 19 rooms where 52 Syrian refugees, 18 of them children, are now living. Mr. Barry said he leased it through his Global Village Champions foundation, a charity whose stated mission is to feed hungry children and whose “goodwill ambassador” is former world boxing champion Evander Holyfield.

Mr. Barry thought the hotel was perfect because it was in a suburb, had a big garden and was surrounded by a high wall. Still, he hired a security guard for fear of further attacks on the refugees. “By putting them in this hotel, we can follow their lives and feel we can make a difference to them,” Mr. Barry said during a pit stop at Sofia’s Happy Restaurant – a sort of Bulgarian road house – before heading off to the Oasis in another van to check on the Syrians.

Through his foundation, which was created 20 years ago and is funded by the profits from his Vitapro food business, Mr. Barry said he has spent more than $1-million (U.S.) feeding and housing Syrians in Bulgaria since mid-2012. The foundation claims to also have delivered almost a billion meals to the poor and hungry from the Philippines to Britain.

Mr. Barry said he has emotional ties to Eastern Europe – his grandparents came from a Polish town near the Ukrainian border – and admires Bulgaria because it refused to deliver its Jews to Hitler’s extermination camps. When Syrians began making their way into Bulgaria to flee their civil war, he felt the need to help them find new lives. He also has a business connection through Vitapro, which has small factories in Bulgaria and elsewhere, whose main product is a “textured” protein, billed as a meat alternative, made from soya.

Mr. Barry says his past sins also motivated him to become a do-gooder. In an earlier life, when he was a cocaine-addled 20-something rocker with a fondness for Montreal mobsters, Mr. Barry was convicted of extorting money from a business partner and sentenced to six years in prison; he ended up serving a year. “I was infatuated with the mob back then,” he said. “I wanted to see The Godfather with the godfather.”

In 2001, he was convicted of bribery, conspiracy and money laundering in Houston for allegedly bribing the top Texas prison official to ensure that Vitapro was supplied to prison kitchens. The verdict was thrown out in 2008 when the prosecution’s main witness was found to be a liar.

During his visit, the Oasis was buzzing with activity. Mr. Barry’s American wife, Yvette Barry, 43, had delivered several full van loads of food, ranging from 25-kilogram sacks of flour to four-kg cans of peas. In the kitchen, men were rolling dough to make flatbread while the women were making cakes and hummus from chickpeas.

Outside, Mr. Holyfield, 51, effortlessly scooped up kids into into his still-powerful arms – this was the man who beat Mike Tyson twice in the ring.

Mr . Barry was on a more serious mission. He took aside the Syrian man who had emerged as the house leader, Mohamed Nour Aldin Anter, to explain to him that he was about to leave the country for a few weeks and that the food supplies could not be wasted, nor could the hotel be theirs forever.

“I’m not writing blank cheques,” Mr. Barry said, elevating his deep, powerful voice, while sitting across from Mr. Anter on a red vinyl sofa in one of the hotel’s two reception areas.

Mr. Anter, who said he fled Syria in June, 2012, ventured that he dreamed of moving to Germany, an idea that launched Mr. Barry into tough-love mode.

“What makes you think German refugee camps are any better than the ones here?” he asked.

And with that, he disappeared from the Oasis.

He had a lot to do before his flight later this week back to one of his homes, in Sarasota, Fla., including a visit to examine an unoccupied 110-room hotel in Sofia that could house hundreds more refugees. “The nightmare here is, what happens if 50,000 refugees come to Bulgaria?” he said.

For more details visit https://yankbarry.com/yank-barry-motivated-by-past-sins-becomes-a-philanthropist/ 

[ilguna]

Anteric Masterlist (f.o)

summary; secrets have more worth than you gave them credit for.

notes: this is a divergent au!

IMPORTANT: “do I have to know divergent to read anteric?” answer -> HERE.

--

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Epilogue

-- Extra Info

stage one info

stage two info

-- Short Stories

Aleatory

Castigate

Balter

Eumoiriety

Agowilt

-- Aesthetics

Finnick Odair / d

Finnick Odair / ab

(Y/n) Gallows / ab

[ilguna]

Anteric - Chapter Eight (f.o)

summary: secrets have more worth than you gave them credit for.

warnings; swearing, blackmail, mention of underage drinking, BURIED ALIVE IN DETAIL, GORE, DEATH, SPIDERS, mild CLAUSTROPHOBIA

wc; 14.1k

NOTES; I give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

The hallway’s silence is deafening, filled with only your breaths. Bodies are lined up against the wall on each side, all sitting. Across from you are the Dauntless-born initiates, and on both of your sides are your fellow transfers. The person that stares at you through the darkness is Blaire, who twists the end of his shirt around his finger, stretching it and leaving wrinkles.

He’s obviously distracted, eyes not seeing you, but the space beyond it. It’s the exact same look that a few others have. It’s gone quickly, though, all with a simple accidental bump from Nestor. A smile spreads across Blaire’s face, eyes immediately going to his friend to give a gentle push back, ultimately starting a shoving match.

Down the line, from left to right, is Sydney, Nestor, Blaire and Ameer. As for Mirza, Horace, Cass and Lennox, they’ve already been called into the room with Laurel. She takes each of you one by one, in no particular order. You originally thought it was alphabetical, the theory was gone as quickly as it came when she called Thyme first. Her last name is Tattrie.

To your left is Trink, she twirls a strand of her blonde hair around her finger, laughing at Blaire and Nestor. To your right is Finnick, with Eytelle on the very end. There’s a large gap between you and Finnick, and that’s because Allio and Thyme were there before they were called in.

For the first stage of initiation, your two groups were ranked separately. The real challenge begins here, now that you’ve been combined. You had started with eighteen, but with four being cut in the last stage, there are now fourteen. On the way here, Laurel told you not to stress out, no one will be getting cut this time around. The next stage, the final stage, is when all final decisions will be made. This is just the preparation.

You watch as Nestor bounces against Sydney too hard, sending her to the side. Her hand slaps against the ground, stopping her from hitting the floor. Instantly, her hair flies out of her face as she glares at the back of Nestor’s head, “Can the two of you stop it?”

Blaire is laughing too loudly, causing Nestor not to hear. He knocks into Sydney, she doesn’t waste time making her point known. She shoves Nestor from behind, sending him flying into Blaire.

You crack a smile, watching as the two boys then go to gang up on her. In no time, the hallway is filled with screeching giggles, kicking to get them off. For a moment, Blaire turns his attention to you, eyebrows and hands raised as a challenge. If he even dares...

You back away from him, sitting flush against the wall, “Unlike Sydney, I’ll aim for the face.”

Trink lets out a noise that’s closest to a laugh, “Oh! That’s true, and she’s brutal.”

No one responds to what she says immediately, until Ameer is leaning forward, barely coming out of the shadows and into the soft blue light, “Brutal?” he challenges, “What did you rank, again?”

Sydney and Nestor are beginning to relax now, interested in the conversation that’s about to be had. You accidentally catch a glimpse of their hands intertwining, and end up forcing yourself to look at Ameer for a distraction. You can already feel the judgement rolling back on. After what happened during breakfast, you’re not sure if you want your friends to catch on again.

In Abnegation, relationships happen, obviously, but they are not physical and out in the open like this. They are supposed to be private and to keep others from feeling uncomfortable. Your parents had been married for years and there’s not a single time you can recall them kissing. Hugging, maybe, but all the intimate movements would have to be saved for private.

This is different, new and something you have to overcome before it’s recognized as a weakness by others.

Your eyes lock with Ameer, “Second.”

Something flashes across his face, disbelief, you think it is, “How many wins did you have?”

“Two.”

The doubt is settling in, you can tell by the way he squints his eyes, mouth puckering as he watches you carefully, “Who was first?”

“Allio, he had three wins.” your hands find each other, fingers intertwining. He’s going to come to the same exact realization that the rest of you did. That there is foul play and you are undeserving of your title.

Ameer’s eyes break contact with yours to find Finnick. His head is tilted in your direction, listening in on the conversation like he’s anticipating his turn to be the topic. But he doesn’t say anything, only waits patiently.

“I thought Finnick was leading?” Ameer asks, eyebrows drawing in.

“Not anymore,” your words are crisp, “He’s third, with three wins.”

There it is, the questioning look from Ameer. He doesn’t have to tell you that it doesn’t make sense, you’re already nodding. You know, Finnick knows, everyone else in your group knows. There is nothing you can do about it, not that you would want to anyway.

“I’m brutal,” you give him a smile, like that statement alone is enough to erase his questions. You won’t leave him hanging, it’s hard not to brag with the next sentence, “Who do you think did that to his face?”

Ameer doesn’t respond at first.

Since yesterday, you’ve decided that you shouldn’t let the others know that you’re semi-friendly with Finnick. On the off-chance that they let Thyme know, or she somehow finds out, you’ll automatically be fucked. However, it doesn’t matter that much, anyway. You were stopped in your tracks when you realized that this is the fastest that Finnick has ever turned around. It’s a red flag.

And it could be because of a number of things you’ve said to him. It could be because you’ve known each other since forever, since you were infants. To him, you are the last thing he has from home. He is almost the same to you, except you have someone to fill that gap of homesickness.

His name does not start with an F.

What you know for sure, is that you don’t want to head into things blindly regarding Finnick, not with Thyme around.

Ameer glances at Finnick again, the gears turning in his head. You watch his eyebrows raise slightly, “You have to be kidding. Finnick’s like a whole foot taller than you.”

You cross your arms instead, it feels more natural this way, “So?”

“So,” he mocks your tone, “You couldn’t possibly reach up that far, right?”

There’s a few things wrong with what Ameer is saying, and the first thing is that Finnick is not a whole foot taller than you. You and Finnick have got distance, but it is a much easier gap to close than what Amos had against Eytelle. The second, is that he’s suggesting that you’re not good enough. And you’re not sure if he wants to head down that path with you.

You can feel your face darken, teeth pressing into each other, “Would you like to test that theory?”

Ameer opens his mouth, going to speak, but nothing comes out. He closes his mouth, shakes his head, and falls back against the wall like he’s trying to escape the door he had just opened.

It’s too bad for him, because you still have more to say, “I’m not sure if you’re one to talk, anyway.” you lift your head back up, eyebrows in, “If I remember right, you placed fifth. Which is kinda embarrassing, considering you’re the son of one of the leaders.” 

His eyes narrow, mind changing again, “At least we know I didn’t cheat.”

You smile, “Ameer if it’s a fight that you’re looking for, all you have to do is ask.”

He stares at you, jaw clenching and unclenching. It’s pretty obvious to you that whatever minor friendship that had been forming between the two of you, is now gone. Which means that you can probably go ahead and assume that Mirza is off the table too. 

It’s a shame because Ameer isn’t all that bad to be around, but the timing of all of this is wrong. You’ve been walked on too many times in the past couple of days and it’s starting to get irritating. You’re not about to bite your tongue with him, especially since you don’t know him all that well, anyway.

In the end, this could all be reversed, you’re sure. A little spout like this won’t stick in Dauntless. Not when initiation ends and all of you have met the end of the tunnel. It’ll be like water under the bridge, a memory you can laugh at.

The door at the end of the hallway opens, making you all look over. Laurel is the one standing in the doorway, leaned up against the frame, “(Y/n).”

You rise from the floor, making a point to avoid Ameer’s extended legs, just in case he gets any bright ideas. Unfortunately, you think you’ve had more than your fair share of tripping during school. After Erudite started releasing the reports, it just got worse.

Laurel moves back and out of the way, allowing you to come inside. You only get a few steps in, looking around the room before you stop. Laurel has already reached out, pulling the door shut behind the two of you. She slips by as if your stillness isn’t a surprise.

In the middle of the room sits the same exact chair that you had sat in during the aptitude test. Beside it is the machine that looks a lot like the one that was used to measure your decisions for your future faction. However, in this room, there are no mirrors for you to stare into. There’s barely any light, and the only other object in the room is a computer sitting on a desk in the corner, emitting a small amount of light.

“Go ahead and sit.” Laurel says, standing in front of the machine, you slowly make your way over.

If the chair is here, it means that you’re going to be subjected to another simulation, there’s no question about that. What you’re really worried about is the results and whether or not they’re going to be reported. Laurel and Caspian might be okay with it, but they’re just two out of the several hundreds of people in Dauntless.

If Laurel has to report the results, there’s no way she’s going to be able to manually insert them like last time, not without seeming suspicious.

You slowly slide into the chair, “What simulation do I have to go through today?”

“You’ll be facing one of your fears today,” her eyes meet yours, “your results will be sent to the administrators for review.”

You press your lips together, wanting to ask her if there’s danger in doing this. But you don’t even have to ask, you already know the answer, and it’s yes. Mox told you plainly that this would be easy for you, which is basically a red flag, especially after how hard the first stage was. This should be just as, maybe more, difficult.

“Okay,” you say, as if you’re agreeing. You don’t really have much of a choice.

“Stay still, I have to inject the serum.” she says, coming around the chair. In her hands is the syringe, tinted orange because of the liquid. She has her thumb against the plunger, ready to go. The needle looks longer than what you’re used to at the doctor’s office.

With a shaky hand, you move your hair behind your shoulder so that she has easy access to your neck. You wonder why they can’t just make you drink the liquid instead of injecting it. Sometimes needles aren’t a bother with you--you’re sure that it won’t show up during the simulation--but it’s bigger than usual.

Either way, you sit as still as possible when Laurel presses the needle into your neck. The pinch is much more painful this time around, the ache begins before it’s even been removed. You stare straight ahead at the door, wondering what the others are talking about now that you’re gone. It might even include Finnick.

It’s an instant relief when the needle is removed, “You have sixty seconds before it kicks in,” Laurel sounds like she’s standing behind you, probably next to the machine again, “To put this stage simply, we’ll be training you to get over your fears--or at least make them manageable. Just in case you were to come across a situation that would involve it in the real world.

“The serum induces a hallucination, and I’ll get to monitor what you’re doing the entire time. After, this will all be submitted to the administrators, as I told you before. You will stay in the hallucination until you can calm yourself down by lowering your heart rate and controlling your breathing.”

While she talks, you can feel your heart start pounding in your chest, hands automatically gripping onto the arms of the chair. They slip against the metal because of the sweat, making it impossible for you to feel stable. When you realize this, you try taking deep breaths, desperate to know if you can end the simulation before it begins.

Laurel gently places her hand on your shoulder, coming around the chair and into your line of sight, near the door. Your eyes flicker to her.

“Take your time, you’ll be okay.” she smiles.

You fall back against the headrest.

And jolt awake hard enough to hit your head on the ceiling above you. A groan leaves your lips as you press your head back down against the floor beneath you. Wherever you are, it’s dark and it’s going to take you a second to adjust to see. 

You run your fingers against the floor, eyebrows knit together as you try to figure out what it is. It’s not cold or grooved, so you’d like to confidently say that it isn’t concrete or wood. It feels smooth, almost soft against your fingertips--silk? You move your hand to touch your forehead, still aching from your initial wake, when your elbow hits a wall.

You lift your head now, staring down at your feet through the darkness. When you extend your toe, you can feel another wall. The final one sits behind your head, which has to mean that you’re boxed in somewhere. You press your hands firmly against the top, pushing as hard as you can. They don’t think that you’re claustrophobic, do they?

You could sit in this box for the rest of your life if it weren’t for the elements. The problem is that Laurel said she’s just monitoring, she’s not actually picking and choosing the scenes you go into, unlike the aptitude test. She might be able to end the test early if needed, but you think that would be the extent of it.

The top of the box isn’t budging, and you’ve got your arms locked out straight, shoulder blades pressing into the fabric beneath you. You don’t know what’s locking you in here, maybe steel or wood, but you’re pretty sure you’re not going to be able to get out. Even a solid half-kick doesn’t break anything, only sends pains shooting through your toes.

Well, for a fear-facing simulation, it really missed the mark. A box with no escape doesn’t really have any effect on you, which means that with a couple of deep breaths, you’ll be out of here in no time. 

Resting your head against the box again, you close your eyes and try to focus on your breathing. Even a couple of seconds later, you feel much better. You can see yourself waking up in the chair, with Laurel standing two feet or so away.

The silence is disturbed by a thudding sound on the other side of the ceiling. You stare, mouth turned into a frown, “Hello?”

As you wait, you press your hand to the ceiling in front of you again, wanting to know if it’s going to come loose now, but it’s just as stuck as it was before. There’s no vocal response that you can hear, just another thud, except it sounds like rocks raining down on the other side, dirt that sounds like sand.

Maybe you weren’t loud enough, “Hello?”

Still nothing, besides the rock sound. 

Actually, there’s a faint murmur, you have to strain to hear what’s being said. Even then, you can make out only half of the words. You think you hear ‘dead’, ‘coffin’ and ‘dirt’ all in the same sentence. Which is ridiculous, right? You’re not dead, so there would be no reason to bury you. But it would explain the rock sound.

“Hey!” You scream, face twisting as you slam your hands against the lid. If this is a coffin, then the lid should’ve budged by now. It isn’t moving, though, not as far as you can tell.

You keep screaming, slamming the toe of your shoe in the same place over and over, hoping that you can kick a hole through the wood. Unless it isn’t wood, which would explain why they can’t hear you, concrete absorbs sounds like they don’t even exist.

They’re going to leave you down here if you don’t find a way to catch their attention. Then you’ll be left to starve, your family mourning even though they don’t have to. You scream louder, your throat becomes sore, tears appear in your eyes. You pause, huffing out air, making you realize just how warm it is in here, and how limited your air is.

“Help!” you fall back against the floor, breathing through your mouth, “please!”

The thudding on the other side of the coffin is much softer now, not as prominent before. You can already picture the dirt encasing you, ensuring that you won’t escape. It’ll look exactly like when your parents had been buried, one after the other. You remember thinking that you’ll never see them in person again.

You grit your teeth, letting the tears roll down the sides of your face and into your ears. You need to get out of here, and the only way you can do that is if you let this go.

Your nails dig into your palm, trying to ignore the music that’s playing above you. Laurel told you that the trick to this is deep breaths and slowing your heartbeat. It’s just a hallucination, you’re not actually buried underground. You’re in the chair, you’re in the chair, you’re in the chair…

You open your eyes, only to be blinded by the one light in the room. Without being prompted, you get to your feet, arms wrapping around your upper body as a hug. You don’t care what happens next, all you know is that you can’t be laying down anymore. The way that the chair is angled is too similar to how you were inside of the coffin.

Laurel is pulling wires off of her face with a neutral expression. Her eyes find yours briefly, before she heads over to the machine, which is clearly more important than your wellbeing. 

A gust of cold air from a vent makes you remember the tears on your face, and you work quickly to wipe the wetness off with your shirt. You sniff and readjust and rub your knuckles, the feeling of pounding on the lid won’t go away. It’s a phantom feeling, the sister of the pain in your feet from trying to kick free.

“Well,” Laurel drags out the word slightly, “In comparison to the other initiates I’ve seen today, you were, by far, the quickest to come out.”

You have to ask, “Is that good or bad?”

“If you keep it up, you’ll be number one when the rankings come out.” She doesn’t say it outright, but her eyes do. If you’re in and out then you’ll definitely attract attention, something that you don’t want.

“What’s the average time?”

“Sixteen to eighteen,” she presses her lips together, “You were out in a little less than four minutes.”

Oh.

Oh, that is not good at all.

“Okay,” you say, but it’s not, you feel like screaming. You need to find a way to purposely spend more time in the hallucinations. But you’re not sure how to do that, because what felt like ten minutes inside of the hallucination, was only four minutes for you.

“You can leave the same way you came in.” Laurel gives you a smile, “Don’t worry about it too much, okay? I’ll see you later.”

“Thank you.” you murmur, slipping out of the door and back into the hallway’s darkness.

Unfortunately, on the way out, you have to pass by your friends. When all of the others had come out of the room, you weren’t paying attention to their faces. Most of them, like Horace and Cass, you didn’t really care for. But now it matters, especially since it’s only friends that are left. And they’re definitely going to want to look at you.

Their laughter quiets the closer you get. The first person to look up is Finnick, eyebrows together as he looks over your face. You force a quick smile, passing by him while being careful to avoid Ameer’s feet again. No one speaks, until Blaire grabs your hand.

“Any advice?”

You place your hand over his, “Focus on your breathing.”

He lets you go, just in time for the need to hug yourself comes back. You carefully wrap your arms around your upper body, before taking the next corner.

You wait in that hallway for a while, leaned up against the wall to blend in. You don’t know who you want to see first, Blaire or Trink? Or maybe Finnick? You’re hoping it’s not Ameer, but you really wouldn’t mind hanging out with only Sydney and Nestor again.

The person that rounds the corner first is Finnick, you reach out to grab his arm, ultimately scaring him. When his eyes land on you, you can see that he’s already pretty shaken, so maybe this wasn’t the best move. You’re not sure standing in the middle of the hallway would have been much better, though.

“Hey,” you say, “Are you busy?”

He shakes his head, you go ahead and readjust your grip on his arm, pulling him along with you. You make sure to take the hallways that won’t bring you to the dormitory, or anywhere near it. If there’s a chance that Thyme is waiting for him nearby, you’d rather take the long route to the chasm.

The silence isn’t as uncomfortable as you thought it would be. However, you are surprised that Finnick doesn’t try to start a conversation on the way. You guess that since you’re the one taking him somewhere, you should be the one to talk. But it’s always been Finnick that can’t stand the silence, you know how to sit through it.

He’s lucky that the chasm isn’t a far walk. As soon as the roaring of the rushing water comes into earshot, you release him and let him decide how close he wants to get. The first couple of times you came out here, you didn’t want to get near the railing, unsure of how sturdy it was. Now you know it can hold your bodyweight, doesn’t tilt or come loose or anything.

“I would’ve talked in the dorm but I thought I’d show you where I disappear to all the time,” you say, turning to face him while practically sitting on the railing. You can feel the breeze blow against your back, reminding you not to lean too far, “I don’t want to argue, Finnick, so please just bite your tongue for a minute.”

He’s making his way towards you at his own pace, “Okay.”

You watch his face for a moment to make sure that he actually is calm this time, because every time the two of you talk, it always seems to end in an argument. It doesn’t help that the irritation is already high because Thyme is trailing him. But for once, with her not here, you feel good.

“I want to tell you everything, but I would rather do the meaningless stuff first.” you can be honest with Finnick, you know this. You’re just afraid of creating a problem that doesn’t need to be made.

Finnick stops across from you, leaning against the rock wall. He hums out a response.

“You also can’t tell Thyme I’m talking to you,” your words pick up pace, “I’ll explain it all later, she just can’t catch wind of this.”

A crease appears between his eyebrows, “Okay.”

You begin picking at your nails, feeling smaller than him. This shouldn’t feel like a confession, but it does, “It was mostly during the first stage, because we were fighting the others. And kinda during the gun training too, actually.” you shrug, “I don’t like it when you brag.”

His face relaxes, a smile peeking at the corner of his mouth, “That’s it? That’s why you were going off alone?”

“I told you it was meaningless.” you roll your eyes.

He’s not hiding his smile anymore, “Anything else while you’re at it?”

You shrug, “You should probably get back to the dormitory before it looks like you got lost in the halls,” you smile, “After all, I disappear all the time.”

“Right,” he says, standing up fully, “I’ll talk to you later, then.”

“Yeah, remember what I said about Thyme.”

Finnick winks, takes a couple of steps to leave, and then pauses. When he turns to you, his eyebrows are raised, “Can I ask you a question real quick?”

You grip onto the railing, “Shoot.”

He’s no longer smiling, “Did Thyme say something to you?”

--

Finnick sits across from you in the hallway, patiently waiting to be called into the fear facing room like the rest of you. There’s a noticeable distance between him and Thyme, an unmistakable glare in her eyes. You’re not sure what he said to her yesterday evening, but it’s made her sour. Not enough to push her away, though, she’s still sticking pretty close to him. Still, the distance between them is satisfying.

Much to his annoyance, you couldn’t tell Finnick everything. The root of the Thyme problem starts with you, and you can’t just outright tell him you’re Divergent. You know you keep saying that the two of you have known each other since you were kids, but if a person like Thyme can come in and wreck shit within a week… 

You told him what you could, specifically what Mox and Keely said about her. You couldn’t go into great detail, mostly because they didn’t give you anything to go off of in the first place. However, the moment you told Finnick that Mox was dead serious, he seemed to sober up and believe you.

If there’s one tell tale sign that Mox isn’t lying, it’s when he’s completely serious. It’s such a stark contrast to his normal lighthearted demeanor, and he never abuses the look. Unlike Reed, who’s had the same expression on his face ever since your parents died. It’s like the joy was sucked right out of him.

Anyway, you and Finnick are definitely making progress. He might not know all the details just yet, but at the pace you’re going, you two will be back to normal in no time. He knows that Thyme isn’t what she appears to be, and that she said something to you after your family left.

Thyme’s blackmail will end as quickly as it started.

“What was your fear?” Lennox asks Trink, fixing the laces on his shoe.

Trink half-shrugs, “Something stupid, I’m not even that scared of it.”

You resist the urge to contradict her. No one got a full night of sleep last night, which isn’t her fault. Everyone was stuck in their own personal nightmare as soon as they fell asleep. Sucked into a world they thought was under control and torn to shreds immediately because they didn’t make the rules in there.

Let’s just say you didn’t sleep in your bed for long after realizing that you might as well have been back in that coffin. Hard bed, dark room, only your thoughts to accompany you. There’s a sick feeling in your stomach each time you think about going back to bed. 

“You don’t have to act tough,” you murmur, causing Lennox, Trink and Blaire to turn in your direction, “I couldn’t even sleep last night.”

“Yeah, we know,” Thyme says, not missing a beat, “You’re so fucking loud.”

You look at her, “Are you sure it wasn’t the sound of your own sobs that woke you up?”

Her face twists, “Don’t you forget--”

“Thyme!” a voice shouts, it’s Laurel. She’s a few steps out of the doorway, “Are you fucking deaf? Let’s get going!”

Thyme shoots you a glare, not finishing her sentence. She gets to her feet, shuffling down the hallway and vanishing behind the Door of Hell.

It’s quiet for a moment, Trink is the one to break the silence, “Forget what?”

You wave your hand, trying to come up with some excuse. Trink will pry, and Lennox will go with it to add peer pressure. You’ve seen it too many times now, with Sydney and Nestor. They are purebred Dauntless, and they will raise the stakes to get what they want.

You need a pacifier, a sacrifice that’s small and insignificant to keep them from pushing later on.

A laugh peels from you, “She found out the fear from yesterday, and she thinks that she’s going to use it against me,” your eyes find Finnick’s, hoping that he catches the subtle hint, “But if I tell you guys, it’ll have no effect, right?”

Trink nods, bobbing her head right next to Lennox. The two of them are so hungry for drama that it hurts. You’re glad to know that you have one humble friend, Blaire tells you that you don’t have to tell them if you don’t want to.

“Oh, it’s okay. I don’t think any of you will get the chance to bury me alive.” you wink at Blaire, who smiles shyly back at you, “It’s one of those things that are ridiculous.”

Trink keeps nodding, “Yours makes me feel so much better about mine,” her face is turning a slight shade of red, “Like, public humiliation is the least of my worries, honestly. Not getting into Dauntless is my big number one.”

“Isn’t it everyone’s?” Blaire sighs.

Lennox lets out a scoff that sounds like a snort, “Not mine, I’m going to trump you losers in the next ranking round.”

You press your lips together, because unless he’s going to magically beat four minutes, he’s not trumping anything. You’re sure that it’s important to be confident in Dauntless, but you can’t imagine how many times people have to eat their words.

And that gives you an idea.

You turn to Lennox, “I bet the remainder of my points that you won’t be number one.”

Blaire sucks in air through his teeth, “Are you sure that’s a good idea? Lennox is the epitome of perfection when it comes to Dauntless standards.”

Lennox smirks a little, you know that he won’t turn down the challenge, “How many points?”

“I’m sporting nineteen right now.”

The smirk widens into a grin, “I have twenty.”

You hold your hand out, he takes it without a hint of hesitation. He’s going to get his ass kicked, and he doesn’t even realize. The two of you shake, and when you fall back against the wall, Finnick has a smile too. 

“What do you even need twenty more points for?” Trink asks.

“A new wardrobe.”

She lets out a dreamy breath, “Okay, I approve.”

You let out a laugh, which the others join in on.

About fifteen minutes later, Laurel opens the door, letting Thyme out and calling you in, “(Y/n).”

You take your time getting to your feet, thanking your friends when they wish you luck. You’re sure you’re not going to need it, it’s them who will have to worry about the rankings when they come out. You slip past Thyme, the door clicking shut behind you. 

“Good afternoon,” you say, heading over to the chair.

“Same to you.” Laurel murmurs, “The needle will go into your arm today.”

You’d prefer that, anyway. Having needles go into your neck is just wrong somehow. All the shots that have ever been delivered to you, have been through your arm. It’s less of a risk of doing permanent damage, besides scarring.

You slip in the chair, face twisting when you realize how warm it is.

“She was sweating,” Laurel comes around the side, syringe in hand, “You’re lucky that I could wipe it down.” You give Laurel a look, and after a moment she cracks a smile, “Sit still and stop mean mugging me.”

You let your head lay against the headrest, curling your toes when her needle breaks skin. The ache in your arm is a lot more forgettable this time, compared to your neck. The pinch is gone quickly, and you watch as she goes to tend to the machine. Once again, you’re left to stare into the empty room.

“You have sixty seconds before it kicks it.”

You don’t bother to tell her that you know already, and the fact that you can feel the effects begin to kick in around fifteen seconds. Unlike yesterday, today your throat squeezes tightly as if you’re having an allergic reaction, making it difficult to breathe. It doesn’t help that the urge to run is beginning to settle in, you grip the arms of the metal chair to keep yourself grounded.

“Remember to breathe,” Laurel’s voice is sounding faraway, a whisper compared to the rapid beating in your chest, “And take your time.”

You want to tell her that you will, but your teeth are glued to each other, mouth dry, and you’re drifting. Once again, you find yourself trying to hold on through the little things. Like how the metal is digging into your palm, and there’s sobbing coming from somewhere.

You fall, head slamming into the ground beneath you. Your face immediately twists, eyes squeezing shut. When you reach to rub the spot, you notice that you’re not confined in a coffin this time, but it is dark enough for you to feel like you’re blind. So, you take it easy while trying to sit up.

The floor beneath you is wood, you can tell because of the paneling. It feels worn, like it hasn’t been replaced in years. And a little uneven, some will dip in the middle, gaps between wood, drop offs that’ll catch the tip of shoes. Almost like the rock flooring in Dauntless, except wood is rare here. Besides the dormitory, the only other place is the training room.

With that, a single light floods the dark room as a reward for cracking the code. The light is on you, once again blinding you. You cover your eyes as you look around, you can see the door to leave is on the right, so you must be sitting where you used to stand during the fights. And if that’s right, then the circle is in front of you.

The light shifts as you raise to your feet, trying to squint through the white. You don’t know what fear this correlates to, but the sick feeling rising in your stomach is telling you not to underestimate the situation. Everything was fine in the last simulation up until you started to become aware of your surroundings.

You shuffle forward, being careful not to snag your shoes on the floorboards. As you get closer to the circle, there’s a familiar smell in the air. The stench is strong, though, enough for your stomach to hurl, pushing you to the edge. You cough to ease the tension in your throat, but it ends in a gag.

Sucking in air through your nose just makes it worse. The smell of blood is normally manageable for you, since it’s always been small or in adrenaline-fueled hazes, but this is different. This is all you can smell, all you can think about. You need to find the source, find who’s bleeding and stop it.

A few more steps, and you come crashing to the world. You slip hard, falling on your ass. The pain in your tailbone is enough to bring tears to your eyes, but you’re more concerned about the pool of blood you’re sitting in. And the person it’s coming from.

His face is tilted away from you, blood soaking his brown hair. You get on your knees so that you can lean over him, hands trembling. He’s pale, his green eyes are staring into the darkness. They quickly flicker to you when you accidentally let out the shaky breath you were holding.

Finnick Odair is bleeding out in the training room.

And you don’t know what to do about it.

His black shirt is stuck to his skin, riding up slightly. You think that the source is his stomach, but there’s no holes or anything. Which makes you think it’s his back, you shouldn’t move him though, right?

“I…” you whisper, he’s waiting on you, he wants you to save him, “I don’t…”

He looks exactly like he did after the fight, when you beat him to near unconsciousness. You can picture the way his head rolled to the side once he was on the wheelchair, Cleo pushing him out. How his eyes stuck with yours until he couldn’t look anymore.

Except, this time he’s bleeding out.

“Okay,” you breathe, even though it’s not, “I’m going to--I’m gonna help.”

You sniff, hands gliding through the air to grab the end of his shirt. You carefully pull it up, trying your best to avoid the red, even though your jeans are already soaked in it. If you took off your clothes, you’d be stained, permanently tinted.

No. No, only temporarily.

The wound is on his stomach, a slit that mimics the one of a knife, making you freeze. 

This is what your dad looked light, bleeding out in the factionless streets, all by himself. Hurt, pale, the grey clothes of Abnegation selflessness soaked the angry shade of maroon. And he was dead, curled up and clutching to his wedding ring.

You sob, throat still swollen, the back of your hand pressed to your mouth. You tilt your head back, white light shining in your eyes as you cry. You try to suck in air through your mouth, but the revolting smell of metal and dirt has infiltrated your senses, and you can’t without violently gagging.

A gentle touch startles you out of your train of thought, reminding you that he’s there. Finnick gives you a closed-lipped smile that reaches his eyes. He breathes in through his nose too sharply, triggering him to cough, sending blood out. His face is twisted in pain, you jerk forward to help him lower his head back to the ground.

You need to focus.

“Okay,” you breathe again, tilting your head to the side, “This will hurt.”

And it does. You press your hands to the wound on his stomach, hoping that will be enough to stifle the blood. There’s not much you can do in the first place without a doctor, and that job is normally dedicated to the Erudite. In the meantime, you need to get out of here.

The moment you start breathing deeply, a new problem arises. A second hole that you didn’t see before, further up his chest. But the more you move his shirt, more appears, like the simulation is trying to keep you from saving him. You have to, though, and you will.

You move to take off your shirt, placing it on the--what you now recognize as--bullet holes. You press down on the area with the other hand, since it’s separate from the first. You try to give Finnick a comforting smile, it’s hard to because you don’t know what you’re doing. The pool of blood is just widening, reaching the circle’s white line.

It gets worse, some pain in his leg appears, and then his arm. You can hear him moaning in pain, but there’s only so much you can do. You try to cut off the blood flow, and a wound will appear above it, defeating the purpose, getting you more wet. You’re sure that he should be dead by now.

It’s like he’s a test dummy, seeing how many injuries they can rack up on him. And instead of torturing him, it’s torturing you. You’ve used your belt, and your shirt. His shirt is too risky to take off, and Finnick doesn’t normally wear a belt. And you have both of your hands stopping blood, both of his barely pressing hard anymore, and a leg draped over his thigh as if you’re fucking helping anymore.

All the while his eyes are drooping, and you think he’s saying something to you but you can’t hear him, can’t read his lips through the tears in your eyes. Not to mention, you can’t breathe, can’t speak, can’t keep him awake. You can’t fucking help. Why was it you that found him? Why couldn’t someone else have walked in?

“Finnick, please,” your voice is scratchy, throat incredibly sore from the sobs, “Please don’t go, please stay with me.”

His head is rocking from side to side, is he shaking his head? You don’t know, you don’t understand. He can’t leave you, Finnick can’t leave you, not like this. He’ll hate you forever because you can’t fucking save him. All you want to do is save him.

You rock forward, hands sliding when you press your forehead to his collarbone. All you can do is apologize as you clutch onto his shirt. You can feel his arm shift from beneath you, rubbing up your back. You can’t do it, it’s a simple task and you can’t even do it.

“It’s okay.” Finnick’s voice is small, but it cuts through the silence. You raise your head to look at him, he’s got so little time left, “Breathe.”

You let out a sob, hand over your mouth. You don’t think it’s you controlling your body anymore. You think it’s autopilot, because you reach forward and cup his cheek in your right hand. A tear rolls down, creating a streak of cleanliness in a sea of blood on his face.

“Let go.” he whispers.

You jerk forward, suddenly awake in the fear facing room. Your hand is clamped over your mouth to make as little noise as possible, but you can’t help the cry that comes out. 

“Three and a half minutes.” Laurel says.

You slide out of the chair, wanting to scream because you don’t care. Five minutes, thirty minutes, one minute, it all feels the same! It feels like you’ve been holding onto dying Finnick for days, pleading for him not to leave you. You’ll be living this woken nightmare for the next few months, and you’re supposed to care that it took you three and a half minutes to get out?

You can’t shake the look that Finnick gave you at the end, the look of knowing. He knew that his time was up, and he opted for you to leave. And the worst part of it all is you don’t even know what fear that was supposed to encompass. 

“I’m done,” you say, “I can’t fucking do this anymore, I’m done.”

Laurel lets out a quiet noise, when you look at her, she’s shaking her head, “It gets easier.”

“Easier?” You ask before yelling, “Easier?! I just watched Finnick bleed to death in my arms, how does it get any easier?”

She hushes you, setting the face wires off to the side, “That’s one of your fears, something you need to come to terms with.”

You grit your teeth, “When is Finnick ever going to bleed out? Chocked full of bullet holes with no origin?”

“Fears are typically irrational, you have to know this already.” She reaches for the sleeve on her arm, yanking it up to reveal the mannequin tattoo, “I work with mannequins all day, so tell me why I would feel afraid of them if I already know that they’re harmless?”

You don’t know, how are you supposed to know?

She must not like your silence because she lets out an annoyed sigh. One that you’re all too familiar with, it sounds just like Reed’s sigh. The lecture is coming, “Haven’t you noticed the pattern so far? It’s been two days and I can already tell what you’re afraid of.”

“So tell me.” your voice is hoarse, a side effect from the simulation.

“Maybe you should spend some time trying to figure it out by yourself.”

The problem is that you don’t want to. You’ll already suffer later on tonight, so why should you bother torturing yourself right now? So much is on your plate, and more keeps getting shoved on. 

First it’s Caspian finding out that you’re Divergent, second it’s Thyme blackmailing you with it. Then Finnick crawls out of hell and decides that he wants to be friendly again, and you can’t even get help from Caspian because he’s been interfering too much already. And now you’re suffering through your own fears just so you can stay in a faction that--surprise, surprise!--is more ruthless than you initially thought.

And she wants you to spend your time thinking it over.

No. No, if anything, you think you need to get away from here.

You wave your hand, heading for the exit.

“Take the other door, you won’t be disrupted.” she says.

You spin around, heading for the door she’s talking about. It’s on the left wall, in the back corner. Compared to the right, which has the computer that contains your escape from Finnick’s demise.

You shove the door open, letting it slam against the wall on your way out. The hallway is a straight path for a while, there’s no side paths that you can take and it’ll magically bring you back to the others. Not that it matters much, it’s not like you can talk to any of them about it.

Your feet know where to bring you, straight to the same place you go every time there’s a dilemma. You don’t sit against the railing today, there’s no reason to. Finnick’s not here to talk to you, and you’re pretty sure that he’s not going to be out of the simulation for a while. And that’s under the assumption that he’s next.

You close your eyes and rest your head against the wall. The sound of the water is similar to the noise of static, making it easy to numb the mind. You need to seriously make a dent on Finnick before Thyme finds a way to draw him in again. The two of you are tugging at each of his arms, trying to get him to stay long enough to hesitate on going back to the other.

It’s been three days since the final fight, and two days since Thyme has blackmailed you. You want to think that it’s too soon to start pulling harder, especially since the peace has only been recently established, but you also don’t know how much time you have before Thyme comes in.

Plus, it’s not like Finnick has given up on you completely, right? There’s been a few instances where you’ve hit a chink in his armor, and all of them start with you. It’s never been the surface stuff, like the fact that you came from the same place. That can be easily forgotten, the saying ‘faction before blood’ doesn’t come from nowhere.

As soon as you told him that you left your family for him, he broke. And you’ll bet it’s because he knows how much family means to you. After everything that’s happened in your life, the one thing you had going was family, something that you would have never traded, but you did it for him.

It happened again later on, during the fight too. It was the vulnerability of your voice that made him hesitate. He also trailed you into the bathroom that morning, despite being tired. And you’ll bet that he wanted to talk to you, not use the toilet or whatever.

You think you’ve done it, finally cracked the code. 

He lives for the real moments, and you’re not talking about the heat of the moment when the two of you are arguing. It’s the softness, no secrets, no guards in front of the palace. The second it all started falling apart was the second you were told you were Divergent.

You and Finnick have never really had a reason to keep secrets from each other.

The sound of someone clicking their tongue fills the air, making you jump slightly. When you open your eyes, you’re met with Sydney and Nestor, both of them staring down at you. Sydney’s pulling her hair into a ponytail, Nestor has his hands shoved into his pockets, leaning back with a ruined posture.

“Are you crying?” Sydney asks, the words are slightly muffled because she doesn’t move her teeth. You think you can see a hair tie in her mouth, which is probably why.

“No,” you say. 

The tears dried themselves on the way here.

“Are you sure? Because you’re sitting out here all by yourself.” Sydney speaks normally.

“Looked like you were having a moment.” Nestor agrees.

“Haha.” you roll your eyes, getting to your feet, “What do you two want?”

Nestor half-shrugs, “Banding together a party. Ameer found some alcohol in the kitchen.”

You press your lips together, not sure which part of this story you don’t like, “Found it?”

“Ameer has sticky fingers, Mirza knows how to get in,” Sydney says, “If it helps, Maarja and a bunch of other older siblings will be there.”

You tilt your head, a sour face coming on, “Are you sure that Ameer wants me there?”

Nestor lets out a laugh, “Ameer doesn’t care, he’s probably forgotten about your argument already. Same goes for Mirza, the two of them don’t get hung up. They give it up, forget, and forgive. It’s their whole motto.”

“Which is lucky for you, because Maarja knows how to throw bomb ass parties.” Sydney says, “We just need to know whether or not Finnick should come.”

“Thyme’s already out of the question, no one wants to deal with her.”

“She’s going to know something’s up.” you say.

Sydney shrugs, “So? What’s she going to do about it?”

They’re right, as long as your name isn’t connected to the party in any way, you can’t be blamed for the fact she wasn’t invited. However, Finnick is another story. She might think you’re the one that wanted him there.

“Finnick is okay to come, but I can’t be the one to invite him. It has to be Blaire or something.” 

“We gotcha covered, we’ll pass on the message.”

Sydney grabs your upper arm, pulling you with them, “In the meantime, we’re gonna drop you off with the others.”

“The others?” you ask.

“Maarja and them, they think that you’re going to help out and get shit done since you’re from Abnegation,” Sydney says, “And we tried to tell them it was a stereotype but they said it’s worth a try.”

You can’t help but laugh, this is exactly the type of behavior that you’d expect from them. Pick at the stereotypes and hope for the best, they never really think things through. Yet, they’re in charge of important jobs like security and the entire army. 

God, is Dauntless ridiculous.

“I mean, I guess they were right.” You laugh, Sydney cracks a grin.

She slaps your upper back, “That’s the spirit! The more people you please, the more people will like you.”

“Or they’ll keep going to you for help, one or the other.” Nestor shrugs.

“And by the way, we were going to invite you either way, help or not. Maarja just wanted to push her luck.” 

“I don’t mind, seriously.”

And you don’t, because this is what Dauntless is all about. The ziplining, the fighting, facing your fears, and going to parties. You rinse and repeat the next day, and it’s just like this, over and over for the rest of your life. This is why you’re here, this is why you can’t quit.

Your two friends bring you down a series of hallways, straight to a single door. Sydney pushes it open with her hip, opening out one of your arms, as if she’s telling you to marvel. There’s not much to be amazed at, so you shoot her a questioning look.

She cracks, her laughter echoing through the large room. She catches the attention of the older siblings, they turn their bodies so that they can see. Sydney holds up a hand, “It’s just us, (Y/n) said she’d help out.”

Maarja cheers.

The floors in this room are wood, the walls rock and stone. Basically like the training room, except this room is much smaller, brighter, and there’s only one exit. You guess that makes it an easy way to lock up, but it’s definitely a fire hazard. You can’t imagine the last time anyone has been in here, though.

“I knew you’d help,” she smiles, “Do you think your Abnegation friend will too?”

“He hasn’t even been invited yet, Maar.” Sydney says.

“And he’s not exactly the selfless type, anyway.” you slide your hands into your pockets, “Hated it there.”

She shrugs, “Whatever, bring him anyway.”

You crack a smile, “So what do you need help with?”

“Everything, but shit will start coming in one at a time. We should be done before dinner.” Maarja looks past you, “Keep taking people, will you?”

“Sure.” Sydney begins backing up, “Good luck, (Y/n).”

You don’t need luck, because spending time with Maarja and the others isn’t nearly as bad as Sydney and Nestor makes it out to be. They’re fun to be around, they know how to break someone out of their shell if they’re shy. In no time, the lot of you are laughing, tears in your eyes as you change lightbulbs and set up speakers for music.

You can definitely see the resemblance between Sydney and Maarja, they’re sisters through and through. Of course, they look a lot like each other, but they also have the same laugh, the desire to be on the edge of danger all the time. Sydney had stood on the edge of that building, and Maarja stands at the top of her ladder on her toes, with no one to steady the bottom.

They playfully fight, as all siblings do in Dauntless, and bounce back as if hurtful words were nothing. If you tried half of this with Reed, you would have been scolded. Mox might have been easier, but it would have never been this fun. Mox and Reed are alike in most ways--more than you will ever know, according to Caspian--but you and Finnick are closer.

You guess it’s the age gap that does it. Mox and Reed are only two years apart, Maarja and Sydney are one and a half, you and Finnick are the same. Compared to Mox, who’s three years older, and Reed who’s five. It doesn’t seem like a gap, but it really is. Plus, all three of you have managed to have different childhoods, you can’t imagine what’s in store for Alyssum.

It’s weird to picture you and Finnick as siblings, though. The two of you don’t fight like that, don’t talk to each other like that. You wouldn’t exactly call each other polar opposites, either. However, you guess that definition fits better. You see the things he doesn’t, and he sees the things that you don’t.

“You know what they say about polar opposites,” Daziel says, he’s Lennox’s older brother. 

He’s got the exact same looks as Lennox, with the brown hair and brown eyes. He’s taller than Lennox, but shorter than Horace. When he laughs, it’s childish, yet there’s an edge to him. He leans forward as he talks, like he’s always delivering some sort of threat. 

Because of him, you’ve noticed that there’s two ends to Dauntless. The first side is like Maarja, carfree, party hard, laugh as loudly as you can and have fun because this is your youth. On the other side is Daziel, intense, scary, probably guards the walls or patrols the factionless areas, and he talks quietly because he knows that the room will fall quiet to hear. Everyone else, besides them, falls somewhere in-between.

If you were to put Daziel and Lennox together, you’d go ahead and say that they’re siblings. Their personalities don’t come close to each other--although, you do have a suspicion that Lennox looks up to Daziel, which explains the behavior--but they aren’t the same person. And yet, they were born a year apart, which contradicts what you said earlier.

You suppose that every statement has an anomaly to make it false, right?

“What do they say?” you ask. You’re currently crouched down to the floor, opening a water bottle. You’ve been trying to get the speaker to work for five minutes now, you’re sure that Trink would be better at this than you.

Torrac, Nestor’s brother, says, “They attract.”

It doesn’t take a genius to decipher that one. 

You roll your eyes, drinking the water. Like Daziel, Torrac looks a lot like Nestor, except he’s shorter. He doesn’t have that same bad posture either, and his voice is a whole lot deeper. On the spectrum that you made, he’d be closer to Maarja than Daziel.

“No, I’m serious.” Torrac stops, “It happens a lot. Sydney and Nestor weren’t always dating--”

“Much less, friends.” Maarja mutters.

“--but suddenly they came to some middle ground and started dating. Now there’s almost no difference between them. They balance each other out.” Torrac finishes.

There’s a long silence between you all, allowing actual work to get done. You get the speaker to work, and after that Daziel thinks it’s funny to speak into the mic and not help out. It’s a little annoying at first, but once Maarja cracks, you and Torrac aren’t that far behind.

“You know, you talk about Finnick a lot.” Maarja says, “Are you sure you don’t have some sort of crush on him?”

“Are you kidding?” Daziel doesn’t give you a chance to answer, “Lennox says Finnick talks shit about her all the time.” 

You were right when you said that Lennox is hungry for drama.

“I think you missed the part where she said that they were like this--” she crosses her fingers, one over the other, “--besides, a lot of people hate each other and then get together. Torrac literally said that ten minutes ago. Do you have cotton for brains?”

Daziel, who still holds the microphone, says, “You are the one that nearly killed yourself because you didn’t know how to harness yourself correctly. Please, keep talking.”

Maarja points her finger at him, which quickly changes into the middle finger. After that, she looks over at you, “Anyway, do you have a crush?”

You shrug, shaking your head, “No…?”

“Oh, she’s unsure!” Torrac says, he’s smiling.

“It’s official, (Y/n) has a crush on Finnick.” Daziel’s words echo loudly, “A stiff likes a stiff, why am I not surprised?”

“It’s not like that,” you say, looking to Maarja for help.

“You’ve just never thought about him like that before?” she says, you nod, “Well, congrats on your awakening, good luck.”

You open your mouth for a sarcastic response, but the door opens. The four of you look up and over to see Finnick, Ameer, Blaire and Horace. They’re all carrying different objects, with the exception of Finnick, who looks like he just came from facing his fears.

“We brought the goods.” Ameer says, holding two bottles of alcohol by the neck.

“Over here.” Torrac says, motioning them over, “Finnick, you can join (Y/n).”

You don’t like the wink that Torrac sends you, but the wolf whistle that Daziel lets loose into the microphone is worse. You cap the water bottle in your hand before hurling it at him. He has enough time to dodge, laughter filling the air.

“Hey, Finn.” You stand, he’s coming into the room, heading towards you, “Maarja is the one on the ladder, she’s Sydney’s older sister. Torrac is the one setting up the tables, related to Nestor, and,” you shoot a glare at Daziel, who gives you a bright smile, “the dumbass on the mic is Lennox’s monkey brother, Daziel.”

“They’re all older siblings?” Finnick asks.

“Yeah, they’re cool. Daziel’s on thin fucking ice.”

“I can tell,” he smiles, “Have you been here all day? Trink’s looking for you.”

“Yeah, Sydney and Nestor found me. Did Trink say what she needed?”

He shrugs, stopping next to you. He takes a look around the room, “Doesn’t look like much of a party.”

“We still have a long way to go,” Maarja agrees, she’s coming down the ladder again, “I think we just need to remove a few more bulbs and cover up the windows. Torrac can set up the tables with Blaire…” she trails off for a moment, looking at Ameer, “Hey, that’s not all you took, right?”

Ameer scoffs, “Of course not. Mirza’s taking more and he’ll be over with Lennox. I have to find a way to get us snack food, though.”

“We’ll have some chocolate cake, I know that for sure.” Horace says.

Maarja snaps, “That’s right. Okay, so snacks won’t matter, just drinks.”

“And we’ve got that covered.” Ameer is heading towards the door with Horace, “See you guys in a few.”

“Thanks!” Maarja says, she then turns towards you and Finnick, “You two work together to pull out lightbulbs.”

“Sure,” you push Finnick forward, “He’ll be the one on the ladder, though.”

“I thought you got over your fear of heights?” Maarja asks, Blaire briefly looks up from his table.

“Chicken shit.” Daziel says.

You ignore him, “I don’t feel like risking my life today.”

And you’re not lying, because you honestly don’t feel like standing on the top of the ladder like Maarja was. But the moment you see Finnick start going up, you begin picturing him standing at the top, falling, cracking his head and bleeding out on the floor, and you change your mind.

You grab the end of his shirt, “Get down.”

“What?” he asks, his face twists as he looks you over.

“Get down, I’ll go up,” you say.

“I can do it, if you don’t want to. It’s not a problem for me.”

“I know that, just... get down, please.”

He gives you a weird look, getting down. You head up the ladder, ignoring the screaming in your head. If you fall, Finnick will probably be able to catch you, but not the other way around. And you’d much rather take the chance, anyway, because he’s still recovering from the beating you gave him.

Finnick holds the ladder while you unscrew the light bulbs. When you ask Maarja how she expects all of these to get back in, she shrugs and says it’s not her problem. They plan on leaving the bulbs in a box by the door. You don’t bother to mention anything about someone stumbling along and turning on the colored lights.

Finnick does, and he’s immediately met with Daziel’s criticism. 

“You know, the older siblings are typically the smarter ones,” Finnick starts, he has to look over his shoulder to see Daziel, “It’s nice to know that you’re helping Lennox break the standards.”

You can see the sarcastic smile Finnick gives Daziel, you can’t help the giggle that leaves you. Daziel mocks it into the microphone, “Shut up and work.”

“You should be on one of these ladders, actually,” Maarja says, “You’re the tallest out of us.”

Daziel shrugs, not moving from where he sits.

“What did Daziel place in the final rankings?” Blaire asks.

“Like, fifth or something,”

“That’s not hard to believe.” Finnick mutters.

The room slowly comes together, with the lightbulbs out and the windows covered, the atmosphere is already setting in. There’s a row of tables along one wall that’s covered in the food that keeps coming, and Daziel gets up to start mixing the alcohol into other juices with Torrac and Lennox.

At some point, the only job left is to wait for the cake and start retrieving the only people that don’t know how to get to the room--Trink, Eytelle and Allio. Everyone else is on their own time schedule, and they look right at home when they enter. It’s always in clusters of three to four, with brightly colored hair and piercings that catch the light.

Maarja takes the microphone from Daziel and hides it somewhere. Then, she starts to play music somehow, none of which you and Finnick are familiar with. Music is typically only for enjoyment, so that was out of the question in Abnegation. Plus, you thought it was supposed to be an Amity-exclusive thing to listen to, anyway.

The tempo is typically upbeat, and if the artist isn’t screaming the words, then you can understand it fairly well. It isn’t long before Finnick has blended into the crowd, singing along to the repeated chorus and bouncing around. You watch him for a while, standing off to the side with Maarja as she watches the scene she created.

“Have you ever been to a party before?”

“Dinner parties with the neighbors.” you tell her.

“Dinner what?” Daziel shouts, leaning forward.

“Dinner parties! You guys probably don’t have those very often,” the looks on their faces makes you stop, “or at all, I guess. We all eat in the same room so it’s a foreign concept to you.”

“Not to me! I know what you’re talking about.” Trink nods, “Normally you invite someone over from a different house and cook for them. Sometimes they bring food so that they don’t feel awkward.”

You motion to Trink, “Except, in Abnegation it’s a custom to bring a few dishes. To let the entire other family cook would be extremely rude.”

Maarja and Daziel look vaguely horrified, “Okay, what do you do at those parties?”

“Eat, but you can’t talk about yourself. And typically gossip is rude, unless you know the family you’re eating with, really well.” you say, “You could always run the risk of someone else hearing, and reputation is very important.”

Trink’s twirling her hair around her finger, “Intelligent conversations, mostly. My family would have competitions to see who could come up with inventions that could improve lifestyle. I always won.”

Daziel stands up straight, “You two are incredibly boring.”

“How are your factions not getting along? Like, seriously?”

“Power.” you say, Trink’s bobbing her head in agreement.

Somewhere in the middle of the crowd, you spot Finnick motioning to you. You tilt your head, beginning to shake no, but Daziel shoves you forward, “Go get him!”

“I don’t dance.” you say, “It’s self-indulgent in Abnegation.”

“It’s a good time to learn, you’ll be doing a lot of it in Dauntless.” Maarja says, she then leans forward on your shoulders, talking in your ear, “Have a drink, if you’re really that nervous.” She pats you once or twice as encouragement, letting go. 

You sigh, dragging your feet as you go to find Finnick. He’s easy to lose in the crowd, since he’s just as tall as the rest of them. Still, you manage to catch a glimpse of his hair in the purple light, eyes locking with his. He moves forward slightly, hand extended to you. You slip your hand in his, and instantly get yanked forward.

It’s too loud to just speak normally here, so he leans down, “I figured out the trick, it’s just a bunch of jumping.”

He backs away, joining the crowd’s rhythm, a smile on his face. You stare at him, not moving at first, so he grabs a hold of your hands and starts moving them like a puppeteer. 

“Come on, (Y/n)! Feel the music!” he laughs, forcing you to twirl.

You want to tell him no, but you’ve already done a lot in Dauntless that you never pictured yourself doing. You’ve broken so many boundaries, disobeyed everything you’ve learned in Abnegation, and you’re refusing to dance? You ziplined off a building, hung hundreds of feet in the air, and you can’t do this?

You know, there’s a lot of things that you couldn’t do today, but this is something you can do. As long as it keeps that smile on Finnick’s face. If it stays, then you think you can do this.

“Okay!” you agree, waiting a beat or two before beginning to bounce too.

Finnick’s laughter fills the air, and for the first time in your life, you finally notice the butterflies. Light, swarming, and suffocating. You laugh too, holding onto his hands a little tighter. This is how it should be between you.

You’ve got a hold of Finnick again, and you’re never going to let go. Thyme can try to get in the way, but she won’t succeed. Finnick’s yours, he’s always been yours. By the time the rankings come out, she’ll be gone. Finnick will know your secrets, and he’ll help make sure that they don’t get out.

His smile fades a little, hand tilting your face up, “What’s wrong?”

You hadn’t even realized that you stopped smiling, “Nothing.” you grab his hand, squeezing it, “I’ll tell you later.”

Finnick gives you a look, “Promise?”

You won’t ruin tonight. You’ll tell him tomorrow if you can.

You beam, “Promise.”

--

It’s so painfully obvious that something went on last night. Every single initiate, with the exception of Thyme, is dragging their feet. A few people act like they turned into vampires overnight when they wince at bright lights and loud noises. Others are just in irritable moods in general, hungover from the alcohol.

Thyme is still sour from yesterday, you think, so there’s that. However, when you all came into the dormitory at three in the morning, she exploded. She didn’t yell, she managed to keep her voice level, but it was like all of you were in an interrogation.

One of the Dauntless-borns had said something to her along the lines of, “Shut the fuck up, this is why you weren’t invited.” and it worked. Thyme just glared daggers at the back of their head as they trudged their way to the bathroom. Now that you think about it, it might have been Lennox.

You also may have forgotten to mention an important detail about the dormitory now--it’s now occupied by the Dauntless-borns too. As it’s been said a hundred times before already, your groups had been kept apart. Now they’re combined, there’s four new bunk beds, and you get the pleasure of listening to Lennox and Sydney bicker in the mornings.

Anyway, Thyme went to bed after making a fuss with Finnick. He didn’t say much to her at all at first, then she wore on his patience--as she always does--and he snapped and told her to leave him alone. He was just invited to it, it’s not like he controlled the guest list. It was run by a bunch of the older Dauntless siblings.

And Thyme went, “Like who?”

Which made, literally everyone, point to either Sydney, Nestor, or towards the bathroom, where Lennox had disappeared inside of. Three people she doesn’t know, and therefore had no chance to actually build up some sort of friendship. It did raise the question on how Finnick got in, which was quickly answered by Blaire.

And, as if the salt wasn’t already bad enough, Cass went ahead and said, “Just face it Thyme, you’re fucking unlikable.”

A line with such irony, since the Amity are supposed to be the most liked. Yet here, she’s the most hated. Anyone could go ahead and say that Dauntless just hated Amity, and by default, Abnegation too. But then they’d have to explain why, especially since a former Abnegation is helping lead Dauntless, and you and Finnick are good in the books too.

Anyway, you can confidently say that Thyme is pissed. She’s been giving you a few looks every now and then, which is your fault because you’re the only other person that hasn’t been a complete asshole today. It’s weird to see, you came back with the rest of them, a little buzzed too. You shouldn’t be as on-top of it as you have been this morning.

You think it might have something to do with the adrenaline. To be completely honest, you don’t remember falling asleep, and each time you think of talking to Finnick, your stomach flips. Most of it has something to do with the fact of telling him you’re Divergent, but the other…

“Thyme.” Laurel says, hanging out of the door.

Thyme doesn’t move from her spot in the hallway, eyes on you, “Can you call someone else in?”

“No.” Laurel says, “You’ve had a shitty attitude all day, I want you over with. Get in here.”

Today also happened to be the day where gun training resumed. So, the first thing you got to do this morning was shoot. A lot of people complained, namely the ones who drank too much, but Caspian and Laurel were thoroughly enjoying themselves. You guess that the party was no secret, and you can’t really be surprised. The music just seemed to get louder the more time went on.

Not to mention when Maaja started playing popular songs, and the sing-alongs started. You swear that you’ve never heard a crowd yell that loud, drinks protruding into the air, swaying, harmonious. You and Finnick didn’t know what to do besides watch in awe.

Thyme gets to her feet, purposely kicking your ankle. You dig your nails into your palm, staring after her. Once the door swings shut, conversation takes over, forgetting her immediately.

“Does anyone remember how we got back?” Sydney asks, her hair is tied up messily, it looks like she got dressed in the dark.

“We walked back in a crowd.” you say, Cass immediately nods.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Cass agrees.

“I wish someone could tell me how much I drank.” Lennox groans, leaning his head back onto the wall.

You could probably tell him, but you think you stopped counting after three. Plus, you think he likes the attention he gets from Trink in response, how she immediately leans into him with a coo.

“We have to plan another party, right after initiation,” Ameer says.

Mirza nods, “We probably won’t be able to get as much alcohol as we did, but if we start taking some now…”

“I wouldn’t push it, we’re lucky we got any at all. Caspian had to pull some real strings.” Nestor says, earning two agreements from Sydney and Lennox.

“Wait,” you say, “Caspian helped?”

“Yeah!” Cass sits up straighter, “He’s the one that started the tradition, after all.”

You share a look with Finnick, “Why am I not surprised?”

“Caspian would start something like that.” Finnick laughs, you join in.

“Is Thyme always like that?” Horace asks.

There’s a lot of nodding, “Yeah, pretty much.”

“It’s a good thing she wasn’t invited, then.” Cass says.

“You can thank (Y/n) for that,” Sydney tucks some of her hair behind her ear.

Finnick gives you a glance, and for some reason, you remember that you need to talk to him. The only problem is that Thyme is obviously on your tail, so it might not be the smartest idea to talk to him just yet.

While the others talk about the party, you lean to the left, into Finnick. He leans back, already knowing what’s going on. He tilts his head a certain way, offering his ear to you. It’s a habit for the two of you, never listening to the Abnegation ideals. Abnegation says not to disturb others, which is typically interpreted as silence, Finnick finds a way to speak quietly. It took a couple of weeks for you to master, but you’re just as good as he is.

“I think we should cool it for a little while.” you watch his face, the crease appearing between his eyebrows, “I don’t want to upset Thyme, and after last night, she’s definitely pissed.”

“So when?” he asks back, it’s his turn to watch you.

You press your lips together and shrug, “A couple of days?”

A warning look.

“I promised.” you remind him.

He nods, sitting up. It doesn’t look like any of the others noticed the brief conversation. Which would be good, but it’s not like it matters anymore. Everyone saw you with Finnick last night, and you two hardly left each other’s sides. You’ll be lucky if they don’t say anything to Thyme, especially since you haven’t told them what’s happening between you and her.

Slowly but surely, one by one, you all get called into the room, with the previous person coming out. When Thyme comes out again, you criss-cross your legs, and watch as she gets to Ameer before his leg shoots out to trip her. She barely catches herself, and doesn’t even dignify Ameer with a look.

However, you all know she’s fuming when the laughter starts.

About eight people later, the only people left are you, Sydney, Lennox, Cass and Blaire. The conversation isn’t so much about the party anymore, and more so about what you think of their siblings. You had been left with them for four hours by yourself, you got the authentic experience.

Honestly, they aren’t all that bad. For Dauntless members, they’re pretty chill. The only intense one was Daziel, but it wasn’t all the time. Blaire is glad to know that he’s not the only one that thinks that. You go ahead and tell them about the microphone and most of the things that he said while he was in control. And then you inflate Lennox’s ego a little bit by saying he’s definitely the smarter one.

Sydney is proud to know that you think she has a cool older sister. She says that she’ll pass on the word, because there’s no way in hell that Maarja hasn’t grown attached to you in some way. As for Torrac, there’s not much to say, besides he was the most level-headed one, and he shares a close resemblance with Nestor.

“But would you hang out with them again?” Lennox asks.

“Oh yeah, for sure.”

Ameer comes out of the room, keeping you from going any further. Laurel points at you, gives a big motion for you to go after her, and then disappears into the room. 

“We’ll see you later.” Cass says.

You give them a smile, rising to your feet. Ameer looks like a zombie when you pass him, you wouldn’t be surprised if he was in some sort of autopilot mode. You gently push the door shut behind you, heading toward the chair. Laurel lets out a breath of air.

“How’d you like your first Dauntless party?” she says, you can see her preparing the syringe.

“It was exactly how I expected it to be.”

She laughs, “Yeah, but I’m pretty sure I saw you having fun.”

Your eyes flash to her, “You were there?”

“In the corner, I was there for Caspian. He couldn’t make it.”

“Leader business?” you guess, sitting in the chair.

“Something like that,” she comes around the side. You offer up your arm for her, she slides the needle in and slowly presses down on the plunger. “I need you to focus for a moment, okay?”

You nod.

“Let’s say you have twelve fears, about four to six of those will come out in the second stage, and the other half or so will stay hidden until the final stage. There’s a good chance that your fears will start repeating, since we still have a week and a half of initiation left.”

You don’t have the heart to tell her that you can’t focus on her face for more than a second. You know that the simulations are hallucinations, but this is a pre-hallucination hallucination. There’s little black objects zipping across her body, and the urge to reach out and grab one is strong.

You are hearing what she’s saying, though.

“You’re going to get a lot of practice in with the fears that do repeat, but you’ll be left in the dark when the final stage comes around, because all those hidden fears will reveal themselves.”

“Sounds like a nightmare,” you murmur, you think you’re going to be motion sick. The jolt from setting your head against the headrest, is enough to make you want to puke.

“It is. There are advantages, especially for people like you.”

“That’s phrased like an insult.” 

Most families in Abnegation are religious, it’s part of the traditional family roles stereotype. It was never that way for yours, and after your parents died, the idea was buried with them. You like to think that hell isn’t real, then shit like this happens. You’re staring face to face with Laurel, who no longer has eyes, just black holes and tiny black dots coming and going as they please.

With that, you’ve decided that you won’t try and fight off the simulation. 

You think you hear Laurel say something back. The words don’t sound like they’re in your language, much less coherent. And really, that is the least of your concerns, mainly because you blink and the scenery changes around you. You’re inside of an empty tank, which is, of course, inside of a dark room.

You let out a huff of air, getting to your feet, “I’m not afraid of the dark.”

There’s no one around you this time, no dirt to come raining down. You shift on your feet for a while, calves incredibly sore from all the jumping. Torrac had set up no chairs, claiming that no one would want to sit down, anyway. He must’ve forgotten that he had six inexperienced partiers inside of the room.

Needless to say, getting down from the top bunk was, most certainly, your own personal nightmare.

A tickling sensation ghosts over your ankle, making you absentmindedly lift your other foot to itch through your jeans. The feeling leaves for a few seconds, before quickly returning. It’s not just your right leg anymore, though, it’s both, and it kinda hurts. When you look down to see where it’s coming from, you see why.

A scream rips through your throat, loud and raw. It’s been less than a second, and tears have already appeared in your eyes. You can’t escape this box, yet you slam your hands against the walls anyway.

Spiders coat the floor, hundreds of them, of all different sizes, climb up anything possible, including your jeans. On top, underneath, the floor, the walls. You slap a shaky hand over your mouth, sobbing through your fingers, struggling to breathe.

You try to dodge them, kick them off. In an adrenaline rush, you try brushing them off your jeans but end up making it worse when they hang off your arms. They jump, attach themselves to your shirts, staring up at you.

“No!” You scream, stomping to get them off, “No, please!”

A strike of pain goes through your arm, a red welt immediately forming. You can hardly see, hardly breathe, anymore as you brush them off. This is worse, this is so much worse. You brush off the spiders that you can’t, and you’re forced to watch them crawl up your body in front row seating.

The lightheadedness only gets worse with the hyperventilation. You lean against an empty part of the wall to keep yourself upright. You need to get out. You need out. You need to leave. 

You close your eyes and grit your teeth hard enough for them to squeak. With your head leaned up toward the ceiling, you try to breathe normally. You’re going to get out now. You don’t care how quick it is, you want out immediately. It hurts, the spiders bite, and you think it’s starting to itch.

“Please.” you moan, the inhales through your nose are full of snot. A shudder runs down your spine when you feel a spider coming up, “Please…”

And just as it comes up your neck, heading straight for your chin, you wake in the metal chair.

“One minute--”

Your scream cuts her off.

--

ANTERIC IS A SPIN-OFF DIVERGENT AU //MASTERLIST//

add yourself to the TAGLIST

@amixedwitch / @justthatfangirloverthere / @fnnshelbys / @neenieweenie / @vxntae / @liaaacantwrite / @terezasworld / @i-dumb-bitch 

[ilguna]

Anteric - Chapter Nine (f.o)

summary: secrets have more worth than you gave them credit for.

warnings; swearing. MURDER PLOT, MURDER, SUICIDE MENTION SEVERAL TIMES.

wc; 9.3k

NOTES; I give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

The next four days follow the same nightmarish pattern of facing your fears early in the morning, and then wielding a gun or a knife in the evening. You think that Caspian and Laurel are really testing fate by allowing a group of unstable teenagers near anything dangerous. 

Sure, all of you have to be prepared to be able to wield a gun and defend yourselves in hard situations. But you wouldn’t say that it’s the brightest idea ever, too. You’re not entirely convinced that some of your fears correspond to shooting directly after. The only exception in this case, would be the one where you’ve watched Finnick die.

Despite all of this, you think that you’re beginning to get a hang of the fear-facing, to the point where you’ve managed to increase your time to five minutes. While everyone else works hard to make their time smaller and smaller, you’ve been trying to go against the current to make yourself look less suspicious.

You’ve figured that it’s easier to calm yourself down once you realize which fear you’re in. It’s only the four that repeat themselves, being buried alive, watching someone bleed out and die, and being trapped in an enclosed space with spiders. The easiest of them being buried alive, mainly because it’s not as hands-on.

You’re not forced to save someone, drowning in their blood as you try to cover wounds that will only become insignificant in the end. As more and more appear on the other’s body, screwing your focus and making you forget that you’re in a simulation. And you aren’t aware of the fact that you have to keep moving around for as long as you can without being covered in the spiders.

With the coffin, there’s no imminent danger, no real threat is hanging above you, besides the sure. Sure, you’re being buried alive, the dirt will eventually end up suffocating you. Yet, it’s not chaotic. You’re not fighting anything, you’re just forced to sit in darkness, feign some fright for a while, and then you’re free. If you were being buried without the coffin, that might be a different story. But that isn’t your fear, the coffin is a detail for a reason.

The others don’t seem to be as lucky as you are. They’re stuck in the same loop of facing their fears, and not knowing what to do after. At least you can say that your nightmares aren’t making your skin crawl anymore. For them, they shake when someone asks what they’ve gone through, and wake up screaming at night.

However, there are a few of you who are outshining the others. And it seems to be the people who hadn’t done too well during the first stage of initiation that’re getting the hang of this one. Which is a shame, because their progress isn’t really going to pay off until the final stage, when they beat the rest.

The few that you’ve noticed are Sydney, Nestor and Cass. They act a little differently than the others do. Sydney and Nestor have always been laid back. You can’t really say the same for Cass, since you don’t know her as well. But they definitely have a different attitude when they go into the room, compared to someone like Thyme.

Then there are the people who are naturally good or bad at the simulations, and it’s typically hard to tell which is which. Like Laurel told you, your friends are close to the twenty minute range, and as far as you know, you’re the only outlier. You can always time people on your watch, but it’s not the same, not really.

Anyway, it’s been about four days since you’ve so much as glanced at Finnick in front of Thyme. It was a smart move to make, because she might have started off stiff, but she’s officially cooled down. She’ll still glare at you occasionally, then again she was doing that before the party, so it’s not a surprise or a change of routine.

Because of that, the only times you’ve gotten to talk to Finnick was in bits and pieces when Thyme wasn’t around. Which was practically never, considering that she attached to him like a parasite and doesn’t let go. You’d hardly be able to get a full sentence in before she came around again. Laurel wasn’t much help either, she didn’t give you any accidental golden chances either.

The more time passed, the more anxious you got over the fact that Finnick might have been thinking that you were backtracking. You were making no real effort to get alone time, not to mention you felt like your grasp was slipping. You said so yourself, you had Finnick in your hold. And leaving him with Thyme for four days all alone might change things.

In order to finally ease the stress that’s been eating away at you, you went ahead and sealed the leap of faith. It’s taken you four days to finally come to terms with the fact that you have to tell Finnick that you’re Divergent, whether you like it or not. You can tell yourself that it’s an unnecessary risk, and that he might already have some biased ideas somehow. But the truth is, you won’t know until you try.

A slight problem is you didn’t get to invite Finnick to the chasm before Laurel called you into the fear room. So, you had to ask Laurel for a favor, which was to call Finnick in next and send him through the second door in the room that will bring him to the dark hallway. It’ll be completely out of the way of Thyme, you won’t have to worry about accidentally running into her on the way to the chasm.

Fortunately for you, today you had to be locked in a coffin underground, so it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. You hope that the same goes for Finnick, because you really would like him to be in the right headspace before you go ahead and dump your biggest secret onto his shoulders. You don’t want it to end up being the last straw that does it.

You twist your wrist towards your face, making the watch light up in the hallway. If you’ve been tracking the time correctly, it’s coming in fifteen minutes. You should have another five to go, and even that might be an overestimation. 

You yawn, cracking your knuckles before getting to your feet. The last time you jumped out at Finnick from the wall, you scared him pretty bad, so you’re not entirely sure if there’s a way to get around it this time. There’s no lantern for you to steal from the wall, not that you’re sure if you’ll be able to do that, anyway.

About a minute or so later, the door finally opens. You emerge from the wall, standing off to the side of the hallway with your arms crossed. There’s just enough light from the room to light you up, so Finnick spots you easily. 

He has one hand reached up and placed over the spot where Laurel injects the serums. For a second, his eyebrows draw in like he’s confused, but then a smile slowly comes onto his face. You lean around Finnick to thank Laurel, she’s already holding a hand up, and then shoos you.

You hold out your hand for Finnick to take, and you watch as he takes it. You pull him along, he lets the door slip shut behind him with a gentle click. The hallway falls back into a pitch black, and you’re left to guide Finnick. You remember when it was the other way around, with you relying on him to warn you of where you step.

“What are we doing today?” he asks, “Another secret party?”

At the thought of your confession, an ache starts in your chest. If only it were something fun, “No, I think I’m going to tell you everything today.” With the exception of one thing, one little thing that doesn’t exactly have any connection to the blackmailing problem.

“Oh.” he says, you’re not sure you’d have anything to say in response to that, either.

The hallway finally splits into two, you head off to the right. It’s only a hundred or so more feet when you begin to hear the rushing water. You have to swallow to ease the growing tension in your throat. Finnick should be fine, you’ve known him a long time. He’ll give you a chance to explain yourself before judgement.

At least, you hope he will.

You let go of his hand in the doorway, continuing to your spot on your own. To the same place you stood last time you spoke to him. This time, you don’t lean against the railing. Knowing you, you’ll get caught up in the conversation and end up falling off backward.

Finnick resumes his spot across from you on the wall.

You have to remind yourself to take deep breaths, “I need you to listen all the way before you make any judgement calls, okay?”

You don’t want to look at him, this will be so much easier if you don’t look.

“Okay,” he agrees.

You know where to start, you’ve rehearsed this exact moment several times, thought up every single possibility. You found the best way to explain why, all you have to do is start speaking.

You swallow.

“It starts with the aptitude test,” you begin, eyes focused on the toe of your shoes. Is this too far back? No, it’s where the root lies, “Normally people get a straightforward result, but I got inconclusive.” you have to look at his face, it’s neutral besides his eyebrows, “Which means that I didn’t place for just one faction, I placed for three. Abnegation, Erudite and Dauntless.”

You pause for a moment, letting him process this. You feel like you’re speaking too slowly, he isn’t a baby. But this is new to him, right?

“How?” he asks, the confusion is setting in.

“Um,” you're hyper aware of your shaking hands, “Well, the choices in the aptitude test are supposed to eliminate a faction each stage. The cheese was for Amity, and the knife was for Dauntless. I chose the knife, so that’s a Dauntless oriented response. But I was vulnerable to the dog, which is Erudite thinking. Then I threw myself in front of the dog, bringing out Abnegation.

“Candor was ruled out when I didn’t tell the truth, and Erudite and Dauntless were brought up again when I posed some stupid question and stood up for myself. And technically it wasn’t a conditioned Abnegation response, either.” You lace your fingers together, “I hold equal aptitude for Abnegation, Dauntless and Erudite. The term for it is Divergent.”

Now you hold your breath, watching the gears turn in his head. You’ll be patient, let him come to conclusions on his own. Maybe he’ll suddenly solve the Thyme problem on his own, only allowing you to fill the gaps. Maybe he won’t, and he’ll demand more information.

The silence is overwhelming, “My legal result is Abnegation.”

His eyes flicker to you, “Why do you say Divergent as if it’s a bad thing?”

You think you’ll cry, “Because I can be killed for it if people find out.” 

Finnick understands, you can tell by the way he goes rigid, “You’re not kidding?”

“No.” 

Please don’t start running. Please don’t have ill intentions. Please say that you’ll keep it a secret.

“Okay, I can understand why you’ve been like this,” he slumps slightly, a frown coming over his face.

You know what he’s thinking, “Finnick, don’t think that I don’t trust you,” you move forward a little, “I don’t…” you take another deep breath, “A lot of people know right now, and my worst nightmare has already happened.”

He’s still watching you, “Like what?”

A metallic taste spreads over your tongue, “You asked if Thyme said anything to me, and I said yes,” your throat is closing, “You remember that?”

He nods.

“Well, when our families came to visit, Mox and his small family came and visited me,” Finnick raises his eyebrows, he must’ve missed them, “Just before they left, Mox told me that Caspian knows I’m Divergent, and he’ll look out for me. Then he told me that these two stages of initiation are going to be easy, because of the way my brain works so I need to be careful not to get caught, whatever.

“I went to leave the area that we talked in, and Thyme had overheard everything.” Your eyes find Finnick’s face again.

And he is bright red, eyebrows turned down, “What did she say?”

“She said that if I don’t stay away from you, she’ll tell everyone I’m Divergent.”

He doesn’t move for a long moment, jawline becoming more obvious each time he grits his teeth. His eyes cast towards the path you have to take to get away from the chasm.

You feel like crying, this is the exact reaction you were looking for. Anger because the person that’s been playing sweetheart and hanging off his arm has secretly been blackmailing you for a week.

“Is that all?”

No.

“Yes.”

There’s something else that you need to tell him.

“Does she know that they’ll kill you for it?”

You shrug slightly, “It’s Thyme we’re talking about, do you really think she’d care about that?”

“Probably not.” he mumbles.

You scuff your shoe against the rocks, pressing your lips together. You should tell him, do it real quick to get it out of the way. You’ve already spoken about so much, what’s one more?

When you open your mouth, the words lodge themselves in your throat, refusing to move. You settle for sighing instead.

He catches this, raising his eyebrows, “What’s wrong? Is there something else?” 

Tell him.

“No, I told you everything.”

Finnick doesn’t lessen his gaze. 

Just tell him you like him.

You smile, he doesn’t smile back, continuing to wait.

You’ve told him so much already, what’s one more?

“Come on, (Y/n),”

What if he doesn’t feel the same?

Silence.

It’s a chance you have to take.

You clear your throat.

No, you’re going to ruin recently established peace.

“I just wanted to apologize for the final fight, is all.”

What a lie.

Finnick doesn’t believe you, he turns his head to the side a little.

You shrug again, “I didn’t want to bring it up because I don’t want to bring up things in the past if you aren’t bothered by them.” you play with your fingers, trying to figure where to go next. Then you realize that there is a problem that you left unsaid, “Ah, right, I remember now.

“Besides the obvious reason why I was mad at you, I realized something during the fight which made it a whole lot worse,” you rub the back of your neck, trying to ease the growing tension, “You--um--you see me as an equal, right? Cause for a second, I was convinced you thought of me as lesser and that doesn’t… sit right with me…”

Finnick’s got his eyebrows screwed in, “An equal?”

“Yeah, like we’re on the same level ground and I’m not in some ditch or whatever.”

His face twists, “I’m sorry, but shouldn’t this had been in the meaningless conversation the other day?”

You open your mouth, eyebrows in. Once he starts laughing, you snap your mouth shut.

“I’m kidding, of course we’re on the same page.” he grins, showing his teeth, “I mean, if we weren’t, we wouldn’t be friends, would we?”

You purse your lips, “I guess not.”

“You guess?” he laughs again, “Anyway, I don’t care about the fight. You won fair and square, even though you were definitely hyped up on adrenaline.”

You smile.

Finnick eyes the hallway for a moment, the humor slowly fading from his face, “So what are we going to do about Thyme?”

Your heart twists when you hear the word ‘we’, “There’s no real way to get her to shut up, Finnick. Unless we somehow make her get cut during stage three.” you clench your teeth, “All my ideas have been permanent and illegal.”

He nods, “I can see why.”

“It’s a lifelong thing she can hold over me.”

“You can always tell Caspian.”

“He already knows,” you lean your head back and watch as Finnick looks at you, “You know when you caught me that morning getting ready super early?”

Finnick nods.

“Yeah, well, the leaders of Dauntless and our trainers will eat breakfast way before everyone else so that they can discuss initiation and stuff. So I got Caspian away from them and told him about Thyme, and he said he can’t help me anymore because Thyme accused him of interfering so he really needs to back off.”

You crack a smile, “Actually, he told me that I should tell you the truth about everything and have you work with me to find some solution. The problem is that he can’t know what I want to do with her, and he told me not to be too brash but it’s not like I have a choice.”

“We,” Finnick corrects, “It’s not like we have a choice.”

You give him a soft smile, “Right, we.”

Finnick stretches, arms above his head, letting out a groan, “I’m going to go ahead and guess that your plan includes murder.”

“Honestly, it was my first thought when she made me agree to it on Visiting Day.”

“And I don’t really see any other option besides beating her up and throwing her to the streets, but she’ll just tell the factionless that you’re…” he doesn’t say the word, eyebrows furrowing, “...and that would be the end of it.”

“Yup.”

He makes a face, “We should probably think it over some more.”

“That works, I guess,” you check your watch, thirty minutes have passed since the beginning of the conversation, “Alright, you go ahead and go back, I’ll follow after you in a couple.”

“Sure,” he says.

You expect him to start into the hallway immediately, but he comes towards you instead. You lift your head from the wall, face twisting in confusion. He holds a hand out for you, you go ahead and take it, not entirely sure what he wants. Is he going to bring you somewhere?

No, he pulls you into him for a hug. His arms wrap around your back, underneath your arms. Immediately, your face feels like it’s on fire, heart pounding in your ears. It takes you a moment, but you hug him back, placing your ear against his chest, closing your eyes. The last time you hugged was before the Choosing Ceremony, when you weren’t sure if you’d see him ever again.

Your thought from earlier boomerangs back, much louder and begging this time for you to tell him that you have a crush on him. That you’ve had a crush on him for years, you just couldn’t say so before because of Abnegation ideals and how taboo a relationship is.

You can’t though. You’ve said too much today, told him everything on your list. This confession, the very last one, is not as significant as the rest. You can tell him some other time.

Finnick gives you a gentle squeeze, “Thank you for trusting me.” he murmurs.

You swallow the tightness in your throat, “I’ve always trusted you more than the rest.”

He moves away first, a smile on his face, “I’ll see you in a bit.”

“Yeah.” Why are you dizzy all of a sudden?

He leaves now, all you can do is place your hands on your head, fingers interlaced as you turn to the railing. There’s tears in your eyes, and you don’t even realize it until they’re rolling down your cheeks. You sniff, and then huff out a laugh, bringing your hands back down to wipe them off.

You and Finnick are okay.

It’s a thought that keeps running through your head over the next hour. You’re okay, there’s no need to worry anymore. And he thinks that your problems are his again, it’s a good sign. The hug really topped it off, but it’s also the thing that broke you. He must’ve known that you needed one.

You loosely wander back to the dorm, having had enough of the chasm for one day. You’re more than sure that everyone is done facing their fears now, so it should be safe for you to come back without any suspicion. When you reach the door, you softly push against the wood and slip through the crack that’s barely big enough.

You expect to see everyone off in their usual corners, maybe a few people napping because the daytime is the only time when they can sleep anymore, maybe a few people missing. You’re pleasantly surprised to see that everyone is gathered together around the chalkboard that had given the first stage’s rankings.

Caspian is standing within the half-circle, his eyes follow you on your way in, “Now that (Y/n) has finally made it, I can show you.”

A few people glance over their shoulders, none of them dirty looks except for Thyme. You ignore her, and Finnick, going to stand on the side of Blaire that’s away from them, as if he’s some sort of shield. In classic Blaire behavior, he slings his arm over your shoulder.

“Are these the rankings for stage two?” you ask.

“Progress report,” he says, “Caspian’s showing us where we’re at so that we’re prepared for stage three and how badly we need to improve before then.”

An uneasiness grows in your stomach, heart skipping. Everyone is about to see where you’re at, and how far ahead you are. And with Thyme’s accusation of Caspian interfering, this is not going to look good.

Your teeth sink into your cheek, right into the wound you carved up earlier when you were with Finnick. The warm taste of blood crosses over your tastebuds again, the pain sharp.

Caspian doesn’t say another word as he reaches up to hang the board on the designated nail. He stands in the way for a moment, blocking the view. Then, he shoots you a look before stepping aside, a silent warning that you are not as undercover as you’re supposed to be.

And he’s so right.

Your name is the first one on the list.

Your breath hitches, body rigid, eyes glued to the board, blood running from your face. Three minutes and forty-five seconds. This must be your time from the first fear simulation, and you are so incredibly grateful that your two minute one hadn’t been put up there. It would be a lot worse, then. Suddenly, the predator would become prey.

The person in second is, unsurprisingly, Finnick. He has nine minutes and fifty-nine seconds. There is a five minute gap between you two, and it is so significant that it makes your stomach twist.

Someone looks at you, you think it’s Eytelle. Judging by the corner of your eye, she is incredibly angry, compared to Blaire, who has a tight grip on your shoulder, shaking it to bring you back to life. You think it’s praise, you think that he’s excited for you.

His name is in the third slot.

You look past Blaire, eyes finding Finnick for comfort. He’s already looking at you, his lips are pressed together. Thyme could easily mistake this as displeasure towards you, good. To you, this looks like worry. You told him you had to be careful, and this does not look like careful.

When you look at Thyme, you can see her arm loop around his, pressing her body into his side. She doesn’t speak very loud, only enough for Finnick to hear. Unfortunately for her, in Abnegation you’re all used to the silence and working around it so that you don’t disturb the others.

“She’s cheating.”

You elbow Blaire slightly, trying to get his arm off of you, “Laurel warned you about accusing me of cheating already.”

The silence in the room is overcome by the blood rushing in your ears, body heating up. You’re tired of people saying that you’re cheating, Thyme, Ameer, now Eytelle. Is it so hard to believe that you can be in first place without cheating? That you don’t need help to get there?

Thyme looks over at you, face twisting until her mouth drops and her eyes widen. She looks at Caspian, shaking her head, “I didn’t even say anything!”

“Except you did.” Cass says, she’s standing further back than the rest of you. Which means she’s got a clear view of Thyme, “You mouthed it.”

“But I didn’t say it, there’s a difference.”

“So you’re admitting to it?” Caspian asks.

This is when Thyme pales, “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Come with me.” Caspian starts towards the door, “Tomorrow’s a day off, don’t waste it.”

Thyme shoots you a nasty look on the way out.

The tension in the room doesn’t have time to grow, Blaire throws his arm back over your shoulder. You have to force a smile before you look at him, “Congrats.”

“Congrats to me?” Blaire’s laughing, the circle is beginning to form. They’re probably going to want to celebrate, “You’re in first!”

“I’m pretty sure (Y/n) meant to say, ‘Congrats for beating Lennox’.” Sydney laughs too, she’s in sixth, her hand is intertwined with Nestor, who holds the same smile. He’s placed in fifth.

Lennox makes a warning face at her, it’s playful. You can tell because he can’t keep the expression for very long before smiling. Lennox is in fourth. 

Trink, who’s in eighth place, is bouncing next to him, face suddenly lighting up, “Oh! That means that Lennox owes you his twenty points!”

Lennox lets out a groan, “No, don’t remind her!”

In order of first place to last, the list goes as follows: You, Finnick, Blaire, Lennox, Nestor, Sydney, Cass, Trink, Ameer, Mirza, Thyme, Allio, Eytelle, and Horace. The rankings from the first stage have definitely flipped. Allio was first, now he’s last. Eytelle’s isn’t all that surprising either, she nearly got cut on the last stage too. She was saved by Amos and Ossie.

There are fourteen of you. If Dauntless only accepts the top ten, then that means Thyme, Allio, Eytelle and Horace will immediately be cut. Which would partially solve the Thyme problem, only she would still know you’re Divergent and would be able to tell people later on,

When you look at Finnick, you think that he’s working on the same thought process.

“Well?” Sydney says, “Hand the points over, loser.”

Lennox punches her arm, “Shut--”

“Hey, Lennox,” you nudge him with your elbow, “You can just pay me five every month so I don’t run you dry.”

He stops, raising his eyebrows, “Are you sure?”

You shrug, “How else are we supposed to get celebratory tattoos today?”

Ameer and Mirza let out a whoop, leading the way out. They placed ninth and tenth, you’re not entirely sure if you'd be celebrating if you were them, but then again, they aren’t going to get cut. If they keep this up for the final stage, they’ll be golden. 

As expected, there are a couple of people that stay back, namely Eytelle and Allio, who are giving you dirty looks like Thyme normally does. Horace trails behind Ameer and Mirza since they’re refusing to leave him behind. You have to grab onto Finnick to make sure that he doesn’t stay here, either. 

“Hey Blaire!” You call, making him turn, “Finnick was wondering who you think the hottest leader out of all the factions is. He was thinking about Haymitch.”

“(Y/n)--?” Finnick strangles out, giving you an incredulous look. You flash him a smile, pushing him forward into Blaire.

“Really? I was thinking Mags.” Blaire snorts.

--

Even though it was risky, you and Finnick went ahead and got matching tattoos like a couple of idiots. It was a long process of trying to figure out a middle ground. You’d suggest something like the Abnegation logo and Finnick would look at you disgusted. Then he would suggest something vulgar, and it would be your turn to look at him like he was doing it on purpose.

Since it took a while, by the time you two made the decision, Blaire, Sydney and Nestor were the only three that were still willingly sitting with you. Lennox and Trink had disappeared sometime during the middle, Ameer, Mirza and Horace went to play a dangerous game near the Pit drop off. And Cass got distracted when she realized that her blonde hair was perfect for dying.

You can’t take all the credit for the tattoo idea, it really stemmed from Sydney and Nestor when they showed you theirs. If they stand side by side, with Nestor on the right and Sydney on the left, and lift up their shirts, they have a flutter of butterflies across their ribs that make a whole picture.

So, you and Finnick decided to get something like that, but a lot simpler. No color or shading, just the lining of two hands holding out their pinkies to make a promise. Yours is on your left shoulder, and Finnick’s is on his right. It can’t really be seen unless you force your shirt over, so there’s not a lot of risk.

Unless Finnick walks around shirtless, and someone catches a glimpse of your tattoo and Thyme somehow finds out and puts two and two together. However, you don’t see that happening any time soon. As far as you’re concerned, she’s completely oblivious to the planning that’s going on between you two.

You tie your hair in a knot at the back of your head, desperate to get it off the back of your neck. Next to you, Trink is twirling her hair around her finger like she always is. She’s also leaning into Lennox more than she usually does, so something definitely happened between them yesterday when they left.

Lennox seems to be making an effort to stick close to her, too. This morning, they had sat next to each other at breakfast, glued to the hip and refused to let anyone sit in the middle. It makes you think that they’ve officially started dating, but they’re not acting like it. Not like Sydney and Nestor.

Your eyes drag over to Finnick and Thyme, they’re sitting on the other side of the dining hall. She sits across from him, body turned so that she isn’t facing you. Finnick, on the other hand, has made sure that he can see you from where he sits. He’s not eating his lunch anymore, his cheek is cupped in one hand.

And his other is on his shoulder, where his new tattoo is.

You sit up a little straighter, wondering how long he’s been waiting for you to see. You and him decided to make a sign for if one wants to talk to the other, so that you two don’t have to keep waiting to talk to each other after fear facing. He suggested that putting your hand over the tattoo would be it, a telltale sign to go to the chasm after whatever you’re done doing.

Finnick briefly glances over, you go ahead and place your own hand over your shoulder, giving him a gentle nod before looking back at your friends. You need a way to get out, you’ve been sitting here, done with your lunch for a while. You’re sure that they’ll understand.

You place your hands onto the table, getting ready to push yourself up. This immediately catches Trink’s attention, she slowly tears her eyes from whatever Blaire is talking about, to look at you. Her eyebrows are raised, mouth parted.

“I’m going to disappear for a while,” you say, “I’ll catch up with you guys later.”

Trink pouts for a moment, “Can you be back before dinner this time? I thought we could all sit around and play some Dauntless games.”

You shrug with one shoulder, “Sure, no problem. I’ll keep track of the time on my watch.”

She smiles, “Thank you.”

You say your goodbyes to the others, punching Blaire’s shoulder on the way out. 

You’re the first to escape the dining hall, taking your time when you walk to the chasm. There’s no question that you’ll be back before dinner. Only in your dreams will you be able to hang around Finnick for longer than thirty minutes at a time, anymore. On the off-chance that you stay behind for a while, Sydney and Nestor know where to find you.

You get halfway down the long hallway that drops off at your corner, when there’s a rapid sound of footsteps behind you. You raise your eyebrows, a smile on your face when you spot Finnick running at you. He holds his hands out, making a noise that’s a mix of a snarl and a snort.

You get it, you’re supposed to run away.

You play along, running down the hallway in the dark. It’s dangerous, you could trip and fall. But then again, your whole life has been dangerous since the moment you finalized your decision of joining Dauntless. On your first day you jumped from a moving train to a rooftop! You hung from the chasm bridge by your fingers! You ziplined face first off of a building! You’re Divergent, for fuck’s sake!

At this point, you’re beginning to think that danger could really be your middle name.

Your guys’ laughter echoes off the stone walls, you can see your little dip for the chasm coming up, preparing to throw yourself against the wall to avoid Finnick. He’s much quicker than you, his hands clamping around your upper arms as he pretends to roar.

Tears appear in your eyes, you wipe them away, “Okay, get off of me.”

Finnick’s still chuckling to himself when he goes to his far wall. He doesn’t stand, though, he sits down immediately. You go ahead and follow, criss-crossing your legs and placing your hands in the gap in the middle.

“So, what’d you call me here for?” you ask.

Finnick shrugs, “I just didn’t want to be around her anymore. She kept asking me if she thought you were cheating. I think she’s a little on edge now that you keep ranking on top.”

“I can’t help it,” you murmur.

“I know,” he says, his legs extended in front of him, “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

You smile, “Have any ideas on how to solve the problem?”

He shakes his head, “I mean, at this rate she’ll probably get kicked out, but that isn’t what we’re looking for, right?”

You press your lips together, “It’s not realistic.”

“I figured as much, don’t worry.” he looks off to the side, “What if we blackmail her?”

You don’t answer him right away, “We don’t really have any leverage.”

“But if we trick her into it?” Finnick asks, sitting up, “Like, I could hint at getting rid of you from number one somehow, which will keep her in the top ten so she wouldn’t get cut.”

You try to hide your horror when you remember just how alike you and Finnick are. Sometimes you forget that you’ve been around each other for so long that you ultimately have the same brain. You could be thinking something, and he’d probably be able to guess what.

“I’m… not sure…” you manage to get out, “if I still want to be the--um--center of the danger...?”

Finnick doesn’t question you, nodding, “But it’s an idea.”

“I guess? How about we put that on the back burner and try again?”

Finnick gives you a funny smile, “I’m not sure if any of my other ideas will be as perfect as that one so bare with me.”

“Sure.”

And he’s right, once the two of you try brainstorming again, you’re not really coming out with any ideas that you like. You’d really like to go for the first one, but you’re not sure how Finnick would even lead her in that direction. You have no doubt that Thyme wouldn’t have any qualms about murdering you to get ahead. To her, that would be the perfect solution to keep you away from Finnick forever.

The real problem would be to frame her for thinking it up on her own without getting Finnick mixed in there somewhere. Also, there would need to be witnesses--other than you and Finnick--because it’s already known that you three aren’t exactly the best trio when you’re around each other. You could end up getting in trouble, Thyme could figure out that you’re working with Finnick, and it could end right there.

Finnick suggests accusing her of being Divergent, giving it a little spin. You shoot him down, explaining that your results had to be entered manually. Not to mention, she could always spin it back on you, and then the two of you could be taken away together. 

He’s not very quiet when he calls you a buzzkill.

You glance at your watch.

“Is time up?” Finnick asks.

“Is it that obvious?” you joke, beginning to get up, “We can always brainstorm tomorrow, it’s not like we don’t have a week until initiation ends.”

You stretch your arms above your head. Finnick gets to his feet too, sliding his hands into his pockets, “Before I go, I actually had something I wanted to tell you.”

“Yeah, sure,” you smile, leaning against the wall.

“I know we just started being okay again...” Finnick trails off suddenly, eyes fixated on something in the dark. You open your mouth, going to ask what he’s looking at, but he takes a hand out of his pocket, palm-down as if to tell you not to speak.

“Who are you talking to?”

You can feel your blood run cold.

Finnick moves forward, “I was practicing.”

You knew that going past thirty minutes would be a mistake, but you didn’t think that Thyme would come looking. Did she follow you guys? No, she would have come out a lot sooner. Then again, she waited until you found her to say anything about you being Divergent.

And there’s only two people that know this spot is yours. Which means that Thyme might have gone asking about Finnick, she came up with some excuse, and ended up here.

You close your eyes, tilting your head up to the ceiling, holding your breath.

“No, there was another voice, I heard it. Who are you talking to?” Thyme demands, her shoes are loud against the floor.

You look over to Finnick, who’s trying to walk towards her to make her backtrack. 

“It’s (Y/n), isn’t it?” she asks, her voice is getting closer.

“Thyme, no one is there,” Finnick says.

“Then prove it, move out of the way,” she presses her hands to his chest.

You scoot to the left, moving away as you exaggerate a nod. 

You two can trap her here, and figure out where to go from there. The more you think about murder, the more your heart skips. You can’t just kill her, someone will figure out that it’s you two that did it. Thyme goes looking for you two, who are known for hanging out together now, and she doesn’t come back?

You have to convince her not to say anything about you being Divergent. 

Finnick moves aside, allowing her to look for herself. His eyes lock with yours, lips pressed together into a tight line, shaking his head. He doesn’t know what you’re going to do, but he’s sure that it isn’t going to work. You wish he’d have a little more faith.

Thyme comes around the corner, arms crossed over her chest, mouth twisted into an angry mess. You reach out, grabbing her arm and throwing her towards the railing, trading spots with her. She catches herself on the railing with her hands. You used too much momentum, she could’ve fallen.

Finnick moves around you, standing on your right side. Thyme slowly turns around, eyes landing on you first, “You’re so fucking stupid.”

You stare at her, not saying anything. She goes to walk around Finnick, but he moves when she does. He’s not going to let her through, and she doesn’t understand this at first. Only when he mirrors her movements again, does she shoot a glare at him.

“Finnick, you don’t understand what she is,” Thyme’s voice changes significantly, from anger to softness, “I don’t know what she told you, but it wasn’t the truth.”

“So it’s not true that you’re blackmailing her?” Finnick asks plainly.

Thyme gapes for a moment, clearly not expecting him to outright say it.

“You’re not a very good actress,” you say, “you should work on being less transparent.”

Her eyes flicker to you, and she’s back to being pissed, “I told you what would happen if you came near him.”

“And I warned you about what would happen if you did this to me, Thyme.”

She doesn’t get it, you can tell by the way her face scrunches up. The more the gears turn, the more her face relaxes and she pales instead. You’re glad you’ll be able to see the terror in her eyes, the same terror you felt when you realized that she had heard about your secret.

“You won’t be able to kill me.” Her voice isn’t as smooth as it was before.

“What makes you think that?” you ask, tilting your head a bit, “You think that just because Finnick’s here, he’ll save you? If that were the case, he would’ve let you go by now, don’t you think?”

No comeback.

“What’s the plan?” Finnick asks, glancing at you.

“Don’t let her think for you, Finnick,” Thyme blurts, “You told me yourself that you hate  it when she’s in your head like this!” she reaches out for him, he takes a step back, “And now that it’s happening again, you’re just going to let it go?”

“I never said that.” Finnick suddenly snaps, “I said I hated it when she’s in her head, like she can’t tell me anything.”

You ignore the wrenching feeling in your heart. You need to focus.

“Did she tell you that she has Erudite tendencies?” Thyme asks, not a hint of regard in her tone.

You straighten up, because it’s decided. She just sealed her fate by asking him that question. Had she shown a little restraint, a little bit of sympathy, then she would’ve been fine. But just saying it out in the open like that, trying to use it as leverage again…

You reach out, grabbing her wrist harshly, “Throw her over.”

Thyme’s face changes, façade dropping again. She raises her other hand up, fist formed and aimed at your face. Finnick catches her wrist, holding it above her head. She starts yanking her arms down, “No--no, let me go!”

“Give me her other wrist, you can take her feet.” Finnick says, “I can hold her up higher than you can.”

“Stop!” the scream is shrill, “No!”

Finnick holds both of her hands above her head. If he wanted to, you’re sure, he could pick her off of the ground like this. His arms aren’t even fully extended yet, that’ll come in when you have to pick her up to get her over.

“Finnick, please!” she tilts her head back, “Please don’t do this, I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing to me?” Finnick glares.

You sweep up her feet, holding her ankles together under your arm for when she starts kicking.

“(Y/n), don’t!” Thyme inhales, a sob follows after, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I won’t say anything, please don’t do this.”

You let go of her feet when they’re over the railing, letting her scramble to find footing. Finnick doesn’t let go of her arms yet.

“I warned you,” you say again, staying on her right side. You place both hands on the railing, leaning forward so that she can see your face, “I warned you that you’d end up here if you went through with this. You’ll be lucky if they find your body this far down the river.”

“They’ll catch you,” she sobs, her eyes bloodshot, hair blowing up because of the wind from the river, “you won’t get away with this.”

You give her a smile, “No one in this faction will miss you.” you lean in a little, “They might even thank me.”

“Or think you committed suicide because there’s no way you’re surviving initiation.” Finnick says.

“Hey, being dead is better than being factionless, right?”

Thyme sucks in a deep breath through her mouth, “Help!”

You snort, “Thyme, we are so far down this hallway that you’d be lucky if someone heard you.” you look at Finnick, giving him a nod, “Any last words?”

“Finnick, I thought I was your friend!” she screams, leaning backwards, away from the river.

“I was wrong.” he says plainly, letting go of her wrists.

Thyme teeters for a moment, looking like she’s going to catch her balance. All it takes is one pat on the back to send her flying forward, “Good luck!” you shout.

Her screams are loud, and are cut off suddenly when she hits the water. You don’t move from where you stand next to the railing, Finnick comes up beside you, wrapping an arm around your back, hand squeezing your upper arm as he pulls you into his side. 

All you can think about is what your father would think, after being murdered by a factionless. How his daughter, who had suffered from this loss, went through with a half-baked plan like it was her only option. How selfish it was to save yourself.

You need a distraction.

You suck in a shaky breath, closing your eyes when your head dips, “What were you going to tell me before she came?”

Finnick’s quiet for a moment, “That I’m Divergent too.”

--

It’s late into the night when they discover Thyme’s body, and you’re already wide awake when Trink shakes you to let you know. You have to pretend to be groggy when she helps you down from the top bunk, already tugging on your arm to get you to move faster.

You couldn’t sleep, not after what you’ve done.

There are only a few people awake, you notice. Blaire is hovering over Finnick’s bed, a hand on his shoulder as he speaks quietly. When Blaire notices you staring, he nods at you. Finnick is rubbing his eyes, but his movements are far too soft for a person who just woke up. He wasn’t sleeping either.

Trink doesn’t stop to wait for them, bringing you right through the door and down a series of hallways, taking you deeper into the Dauntless headquarters than you’ve ever dared to go. There must be another place where the river shows up besides your corner, otherwise you don’t think they would have found her.

“How’d you know?” you ask her, trying to sound like you’ve just woken up.

She seems to believe it, “Lennox was trying to be cute by showing me where the river leads because I mentioned that I like it. And we followed it all the way back here, and I don’t know how he saw her body through the dark because I couldn’t see at all. But he saw, and told me to stay put while he got help.”

She looks at you, “When Lennox got back, he told me that one initiate dies every year because of their ranks.” she’s shaking her head, “But I don’t understand why she wouldn’t just choose to be factionless?”

You shrug, feigning a frown. The plan is working exactly like you hoped it would, not a single finger has been pointed toward you. Then again, it might be too early to speak, her body was just found. 

Thumping footsteps makes you and Trink turn back to see who it is. Trink gives room between you two to allow Blaire and Finnick in. Finnick comes right up your left side, his tattooed shoulder to yours. His hand finds yours, squeezing tightly.

You didn’t believe him when he told you he was Divergent. You were convinced that he was just telling you that to level out with you, to make you feel better and that you weren’t alone after all. But the more he kept talking, the details he was giving, the more you realized that he was telling the truth.

On the aptitude test day, Finnick had been stuck in the room with the Candor man. And that detail alone was enough to begin to settle the doubt because the Candor aren’t supposed to lie. An adult man in Candor shouldn’t have the urge to hide a Divergent teenager, especially if they’re supposed to be a danger to everyone else. Candor is supposed to be the law.

Finnick kept going, telling you that he took his aptitude test like normal. It was only after the test did he realize that something was wrong because of the look on the Candor man’s face. Finnick figured that the man was new, he looked confused and didn’t move from the aptitude test for a long time.

When Finnick asked what was wrong, he was told that the test accidentally gave him two results. One of them being Dauntless, the other being Abnegation. The Candor man went ahead and manually entered Dauntless, though, because the Abnegation part of him was ‘so insignificantly small’ that it couldn’t even count towards Divergence. But when Finnick caught a glimpse of the screen…

You were still confused on how Finnick didn’t know the terminology for it, then, if that’s the case. He said that the Candor man never explicitly used the word ‘Divergent’ or ‘inconclusive’, he just said that the results came out as an accident, it happened all the time, and there was nothing to worry about. That was the reason why manually entering results was possible in the first place.

And since you’re not supposed to discuss faction results, Finnick never had the reason to tell you his result or the aptitude problem in the first place. Honestly, he’s lucky he made it this far without casually telling anyone. Plus, you can’t imagine what he felt like while you were explaining your own Divergence to him, the realization of just how dangerous it is.

It explains a lot, though. Why Finnick’s time is so low when he faces his fears, but it makes you wonder why it isn’t as low as yours? Is it because he’s only Divergent in two ways instead of three? And a part of you thinks that Laurel should’ve asked him if he was Divergent, or figured that out on her own. Unless, of course, he’s still within the reasonable time range, which blocks him from being so suspicious.

So many questions, and no one to answer them

“When’s the last time you’ve seen Thyme?” Trink asks, looking over at Finnick.

“Just before I left lunch yesterday.”

Trink looks at you, her eyes lowering into a squint, “Which was a few minutes after (Y/n), right?”

You nod. She better tread carefully, because if she starts pointing fingers at you two…

“Oh my god!” She lights up, “Does that mean you two are…?”

She’s making a scissor motion with her fingers, chopping them together with a slight head tilt. You think she’s trying to ask if you two are together without realizing how odd her symbol for it is. 

“Dating?” you guess, Finnick’s grip tightens considerably, “No--”

“They’re holding hands,” Blaire grins, giving Finnick a wink.

Trink raises an eyebrow, “I bet you two are taking it slow, huh? Since you’re both Stiff’s.”

“We were Stiffs.” Finnick corrects her.

“Same difference,” she waves it off, “I’m just surprised you two can hold hands without being a mess.”

If she were standing next to you, you would’ve punched her.

“Anyway, did Thyme ever come find you?” Blaire asks.

You turn to your right to look at him again, “What?”

“Yeah, she asked us if we knew where you were, and Sydney told her that you were probably by some empty corner of the chasm. When Sydney asked why, Thyme said she wanted to apologize or something.”

You called it, you said that she probably went looking for one of you. And she did. If she had waited to eavesdrop, though, she would’ve heard you and Finnick speaking. She could’ve wreaked so much havoc, but she wasn’t patient enough for that. You’re thankful.

Your grip on Finnick’s hand is like iron.

“We never saw her,” Finnick says casually, looking at Trink, shaking his head, “(Y/n) and I were in the party room messing with the microphone for an hour before we decided to head back to the dorm.”

“Oh, it’s still in there?” Blaire asks, he sounds a little excited.

“Yeah! At least when we were in there,” you say.

“Huh,” Trink’s eyebrows are drawn in, “Do you think she was looking for you to make amends or something, and when she realized that you didn’t want to see her, she killed herself in that corner?”

“Didn’t Lennox think it was for ranks?” Finnick’s trying to steer her back to her original point.

“It could be both,” Trink shrugs, “I was just saying. It’s over here.”

She takes the lead, bringing you three around another corner before you all come to a stop. Lennox has his back to you guys, his arms crossed, but he’ll lift one every now and then when he speaks, like he’s trying to explain the situation. Off to the side, there’s a large puddle of water beneath a motionless body.

Thyme is soaked from head to toe, lying on her back. Her head is faced away, toward the ledge that has no railing. Wet hair, flattened against the ground and the sides of her face. Her clothes are like a second skin with the way they stick to her body.

A woman is holding a blue lantern up, staring down at Thyme. If it weren’t for the light, this whole area would be pitch black. And with the light, you’re able to see the ear piercing that you insisted on her getting when you and Finnick got nose piercings.

Finnick draws in a breath, and doesn’t release. Blaire stays on your other side, staring. Trink is the only one who moves forward, coming up behind Lennox to tell him that she’s brought you two. Her hand is gentle on his back, and he offers you three a half-glance, a nod, and then turns back to the man he’s talking to. Trink doesn’t leave his side.

“I’m… so sorry, Finnick,” Blaire says slowly, not being able to tear his eyes from the puddle of water.

“Don’t be, she wasn’t really my friend, anyway.” he gives your hand a squeeze.

Was she anyone's?

You try to bring out some sense of remorse, thinking that you should at least pretend to be upset, but what’s the use? Everyone in the transfer initiate group knows how much you hated each other, it would be weird for you to cry over her. In fact, it’s even weirder that Finnick isn’t crying over her.

Besides, you can’t fake an emotion that’s the complete opposite of what you’re feeling. In order to be a good actress, you have to feel what your audience would feel at that moment, and you just can’t do it. There’s something else that’s brewing, something more sickening and vile and would most definitely get you in trouble.

It’s pure gleeful laughter, the relief and satisfaction of knowing that you will never have to deal with her again. Much less worry that she could snap at any moment and get you killed. No more pressing your ears to closed doors, no more walking on eggshells...

At the rate the balloon is swelling in your chest, you’re not sure if you’ll be able to hold it in.

--

ANTERIC IS A SPIN-OFF DIVERGENT AU //MASTERLIST//

add yourself to the TAGLIST

@amixedwitch / @justthatfangirloverthere / @fnnshelbys / @neenieweenie / @vxntae / @liaaacantwrite / @terezasworld / @i-dumb-bitch /

[ilguna]

Anteric - Chapter One (f.o)

summary: secrets have more worth than you gave them credit for.

warnings; swearing, KNIFE MENTION.

wc; 8.9k

NOTES; I give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

On the second day of every third month, you’re allowed to stand in front of the mirror. Four times a year, you get the chance to see how you’ve progressed over the months in between, and it’s only for a short amount of time. It’s vain to stare at yourself--to even take a peek--but it’s hard not to when you’re sitting right there.

It’s even harder considering you’re the one cutting your own hair. 

You steal a glance every now and then, curious as to what your face looks like now. The last time you saw yourself, you were still baby-faced, and people found it easy to pick on you for it. Now, as you see yourself in bits, you think that you look older, even if it’s only a little bit. The bullying stopped a while ago, but the other kids always have much worse names to call you.

To worry about them would be self-indulgent, since you’re not supposed to care what everyone else thinks of you. And to some extent, it isn’t really a problem for you in the first place. Considering that they mostly resort to name-calling, it’s easy to miss what they’re saying most of the time. You stopped listening a while ago. It’s when they get physical, do you start to have trouble.

It’s taken a while to perfect it, but you don’t immediately retaliate anymore. Mostly because it started to reflect onto your family, and it’s not really something you guys need at the moment. You’ve already got a few heads turned your way, which is going against the entire premise of the faction. And it also expresses what type of parenting has been going on inside of your house.

You wish you could say that it’ll be easy to stay under the radar from now on. With the problem found, the easy route would be to just be on your best behavior for the rest of high school. Unfortunately, it’s not like that, and you have a sticky feeling it’s not going to be that way for a while.

You thin your hair out between your fingers, eyes fixated on what you’ll be trimming. If you take off too much, it’ll be harder to put your hair up. Then, you’ll have to find an alternative way to style your hair so that it looks as boring as possible. Or, as everyone else in the faction says it, unnoticeable. 

You snip the hair, watching as the little bits float in the air, slowly making their way down. You place the scissors onto your lap before running a hand through your hair, getting out anything that’s loose. They fall together in clumps, joining the rest of the hair that’s on the floor.

Judging by touch, you think that the length is fine. The only real way to test it is to pin your hair up, so you use the hair tie around your wrist to do so. When you look in the mirror to make sure that nothing on your head is straying, you see your brother, Reed, standing behind you.

“Good morning.” your voice is fairly quiet, not trying to wake up your sister.

You’re also hoping that he hasn’t been standing there long enough to see each individual time you’ve snuck a look at yourself. He might be your brother, but he’s the only one keeping you in check, making sure you stick to the rules. Sometimes, you’re allowed to get away with acts of defiance like this, especially in the confines of your own home. On other days, he won’t hesitate to call you out on your behavior. It’s hard to tell what mood he’s in all the time, he hardly expresses what he’s feeling anymore.

“Good morning,” he says back, you let out a quiet sigh of relief. If he were annoyed, he would’ve voiced it by now, “If you needed help, you could’ve woken me.”

You shake your head, “No, I thought I’d let you sleep.”

You get off the stool, being careful not to step in your own hair. What you said to Reed is only half-true. Lately, Alyssum, your sister, has been waking up early in the morning, making it impossible for either of you to sleep in as much as you would like to. You decided that asking Reed to do something for you was fairly selfish, and you were also unsure if he would get mad about it. And the second reason why you didn’t wake him is because you’re hoping that he’ll take care of Alyssum so that you can make breakfast.

Oh, and the final reason is because Reed isn’t very good with a pair of scissors. He’s been giving you haircuts since he got custody of you, but he isn’t improving as quickly as you hoped he would. The only thing that he’s mildly good at, is spinning the scissors around his thumb while he finds the next spot in your hair to butcher. You’ll have to give him some credit, in all the times you’ve watched him with the scissors, he hasn’t once cut himself. He deserves a little praise for that fact.

“Okay, thank you.” he says.

You set the scissors onto an adjacent table, fingers finding the broom handle. You give Reed a smile, watching as he goes to leave the room. He’s halfway out the door before he stops, pulling the grey panel on the wall to cover the mirror. You disappear before your own eyes. The next time you should see yourself in the mirror will be three months from now, if things go how everyone in your faction hopes.

Reed doesn’t look at you again as he leaves the room and goes down the hall towards Alyssum’s bedroom. It looks like you’ll get your way with making breakfast after all. You don’t actually mind Reed’s cooking, as there isn’t much he can mess up in the first place, but taking care of Alyssum is a handful. 

You sweep all of your hair into the dust pan, before carefully dumping it into the garbage can. When the lid shuts, you place everything back to where it was before you grabbed it. This is where it’ll likely sit for a couple of weeks, until Reed volunteers the house up for company. Then, you’ll need to help clean.

In Alyssum’s room, which used to belong to your parents, you hear the faint sound of cooing from Reed to calm her down before she has a meltdown. You pause on the top of the stairs for a second, staring at the open door with a slight urge to go over and look in to see the room before you leave for school today.

Then your feet begin to bring you down the steps, saving you from a morning of grief.

--

The condition of the road out where you live makes it practically impossible to drive a car. Because of this, your family decided a long time ago that it wasn’t necessary to buy one to drive you and your brothers to school everyday. Especially not when there’s perfect public transportation at the ready, that’ll get you there all the same.

Even now, when it’s just you, Reed and Alyssum, Reed didn’t find a need for a car either. He also didn’t think it was necessary to relocate to a smaller place, with only two bedrooms instead of three. Abnegation says that opposite genders can’t stay in the same room--except if you’re married, of course--but it doesn’t hold the same weight when it comes to housing sisters. Reed nearly went ahead and put you and Alyssum into a room together, until he realized that an entire room would be going to waste. So, she got your parents’ room all to herself.

You’d be lying if you said that you weren’t jealous over it. She’s staying in that room, and she’s not even old enough to comprehend the fact that she is, much less that she should be appreciating it. She’s in an intimate space, one that you had begged for multiple times. The only reason why Reed said no is because he was sure it was self-indulgent at this point.

It’s not. You know why you wanted to. It’s because it was your last effort to make it feel like you were still close to your parents. With Alyssum, the room had to be changed so that it would fit her needs, but the room the way it was before would have worked just fine for you. Now, you’re left to nothing but hazy memories that only seem to fade the older you get. 

There’s nothing you wouldn’t give to hug them one last time.

The public bus comes to a slow stop in front of you, brakes squealing loudly. You and a couple more Abnegation teenagers stand at the stop. When the doors open, you don’t hesitate to go inside first, otherwise you’ll be standing there all day trying to decide an order. You head down the middle, eyes landing on a free spot off to the side.

You sit, scoot yourself as far back as possible, and then ball your fists when the bus starts moving. The ground is uneven, which makes for an awful ride out of your neighborhood. The good news is that the further you go, the more the asphalt begins to smooth out. There’s a few more stops on the way to the school, which allows you to watch as the bus fills up with adults, on the way to their work. 

On the final stop, you watch as an Erudite woman with sleek black hair and electric blue glasses comes onto the bus. She’s the last person to get on the bus, all of the seats are full. Her eyes search anyway, with that sort of knowledge unknown to her. As she draws closer, you get to your feet, hand reaching for the bar above you to hold onto.

She notices your act of kindness, but her eyes narrow into slits anyway. You stare at her, and then you look towards the front of the bus. She sits where you were moments before, and not a single thanks leaves her mouth. In Abnegation, it’s expected of you to give up your spot of comfort for someone else. Apparently in Erudite, it’s not custom to express gratitude. Either that, or the hate speech they’re preaching is pretty effective, you can’t tell the difference anymore.

The road smooths out completely as you near the Hub, which means that you don’t have to brace yourself for potholes anymore. Still, the bus sways and groans as it tries to navigate through the streets. When it stops in front of the school, you readjust the backpack straps on your shoulders before making your way out.

The Upper Levels building--the high school, in other words--is the oldest building in the city. It’s tall, made of steel and glass. In front of the building is a large metal structure, symbolism for something. After school, the Dauntless like to climb it, and see who will reach the top first before they fall. You’ve never seen someone make it all the way up.

Sometimes you’ll stand around and watch them climb. You’ll note where they place their hands, where they wedge their feet in places that shouldn’t be possible. And you also notice when exactly they go wrong. Maybe they’ll shift their footing a little too hard, or they don’t move quick enough to the next piece of jarred metal. The Dauntless are fearless, but they retreat the fastest when they know they’re going to break a bone.

A part of you would like to try and see how they do it. Climbing it can’t be that hard, can it? You think that if they put a little more thought as to where they’re going exactly, they’d be up the structure in a heartbeat. The other part of you says that the idea is stupid, you’ll only get yourself hurt. You’ve never done something like that before, so how do you know that it’s easy?

After staring for a couple of seconds longer, you head inside of the school. The hallways are already pretty crowded, with students covering every inch of what would normally be open floor. The energy inside of the building is contagious, everyone here has an antsy feeling about them. They only seem to get louder, move quicker, and mess around with each other.

All classes are cut in half today because of the Aptitude test that’ll be taking place after lunch. This is why everyone is so antsy, the test will be the decider of where you’ll be spending the rest of your life. Which faction you’ll choose to go to tomorrow during the Choosing Ceremony. After today, you’ll never have to step foot into this building again. It’s more than just a relief.

You start toward your first class, gritting your teeth at the thought of the test. You’re sure that it wouldn’t be such a bad event if it weren’t for the fact of what happened last time someone in your family got to choose. He went quietly, without a word, a look in your direction, or a goodbye. You were thirteen then, you still remember the ache in your chest as you helped fold chairs with the rest of your faction. Reed didn’t even say anything.

He still hasn’t said anything.

You wait outside of the English classroom for a moment, looking down the hallway in the direction that you just came. All you see is the different colored clothing moving around, Erudite joining Erudite against the wall, Amity playing hand-clapping games in the middle. It’s only a few seconds later you’re seeing your best friend

As always, he’s hunched over, trying to look like he’s not as tall as he is. He’s in the middle of a growth spurt and if he stands at his full height, he can see inches over everyone’s heads. Last year he didn’t have to worry about ruining his back, but now he has to, otherwise he’ll start calling attention to himself. Which is hard enough considering the fact that he’s Finnick Odair.

You’ve known him since you were a kid, the two of you grew up side by side. You’ve seen him at plenty of dinner parties, volunteer movements, and at school. It was only a matter of time before you grew to be friends, and it just so happened to be sooner rather than later. If there’s anyone that you’d trust with your life, it would be Finnick. 

He wears the same grey Abnegation robes that you do. His hands are stuffed into his front pockets. Per Abnegation rules, his hair is pretty short to keep it from distracting himself and getting in the way. His face starts off straight, but the closer he gets, the more he smiles, until it’s a full-on grin. He does this every single day without fail.

“Good morning, I see that your hair isn’t mauled this month.”

You deadpan. Leave it to him to immediately pick out your hair like an ass, “I see that your mom refused to let yours grow out more.”

Finnick makes his usual mocking face at you. He can’t really say what he wants to, there’s always people listening in on conversations. So, he developed a special face to give you each time to mock you in retaliation if you mock him. You’re still working on your face, but in the meantime, you mirror how he looks.

“Ready for testing?”

“Yeah, I think that I’m going to rig it so I don’t get Abnegation.” Finnick pulls a hand out of his pocket to scratch his arm.

Another thing about Finnick that’s important, he hates it here more than you do. There’s times when Finnick’s personality completely overlaps the Abnegation ideal’s. He doesn’t like to be quiet, he doesn’t like to give up his seat on the bus for rude Erudite women, he hates the constant reminder by his parents to do ‘his part’. You can’t blame him.

“What’re you going to rig it for? Erudite?”

You watch the smirk cross his face, “Even though that would definitely piss off my parents, I think I’ll have to pass.”

Finnick’s not completely thrilled by what Erudite has to say about Abnegation, either. Finnick might not like it here right now, but it’s his home. He was born here, raised here, and his family lives here. He can’t turn his back completely to it. Besides, what Erudite is doing is stooping low.

“Are you going to take it seriously?” he asks, turning toward the classroom.

Just before you go inside, you give him a half-shrug, “Might as well.”

During lunch, you sit across from Finnick. The two of you eat quietly, occasionally talking if a topic pops into your head. You mostly pick at your food, not really hungry. You’re honestly feeling nauseous. The teachers all day have been reminding their classes that the aptitude tests are nothing to worry over. But they are when you have things that are tethering you to the faction.

The test administrators call ten names at a time, one for every testing room. Most of the administrators are Abnegation volunteers, naturally. But there’s a Candor man and a Dauntless woman in two out of the ten rooms, because the rules state that you can’t be tested by someone in your own faction. So, you’ll be stuck with either the man, or the woman. The rules also say that you can’t prepare for the test, or talk about your results after. The aptitude test is a complete mystery to you. The idea alone is adding to the nausea.

The tables inside of the cafeteria are split up into different cliques. With the Abnegation at one table, sitting quietly--with the exception of a few people like you and Finnick--and trying not to inconvenience anyone around you guys. If you were to do something that your faction doesn’t normally allow, it would call attention to the Abnegation. This is why no one at the table speaks above a whisper.

The Erudite table is piled with different books, some of them being handed around like they’re toys to play with. They have no disregard for how loud they are when they discuss what they read--just like the Dauntless and Candor. The entire Candor seems to be split two ways in an important debate. There’s a couple of people standing, shouting over the others to try and get their point across. A few people are laughing, smiling, and pitching in as a joke. 

As for the Dauntless, they’re always loud. Cheering, playing games, their laugh echoes across the entire cafeteria. Everyone is used to them, so no one turns a head when there’s a sudden scream coming from their side of the room. At the moment, they seem to be putting things on the line as they play an arm game. Whoever overpowers the strongest will win it all, but have to play the next person in line as a repercussion.

And finally, the Amity are all doing different things, almost as loud as Dauntless and Candor combined. There’s a group of girls at the end of the table singing a song together, which slowly seems to spread and infect the rest of the table. On the other end, some girls chitter and giggle to themselves.

A single thought comes to mind, about how all the rest of the factions are allowed to have fun. While the Abnegation have to sit and be as non-distracting as possible. You know that you love it here, but sometimes jealousy strikes when she sees just how little you’re able to do. In moments like these, you can see why Finnick doesn’t want to stay. And it almost feels like a good enough reason why you shouldn’t either. Your results have to be Abnegation, though.

The test administrators come out of the hallway together in a group. They read the ten names, which consists of two people from each of the factions. You are one of the names called, with Finnick being the second one. Together, the two of you rise from the table and join each other’s side. As you follow behind the other testees, you say nothing.

The hallway where the aptitude tests are administered is typically off limits, considering that the rooms are for the sole purpose of the tests. Today will be the first and last day that you’ll ever get to see the inside. The rooms are separated by mirrors. You’ll get to see yourself for a second time today.

Before you head into the room, you share a brief look with Finnick. He raises his eyebrows, gives you a childish grin, and then goes inside. You smile a little to yourself before you head inside room 8. Inside is the Dauntless woman, she shuts the door without a word. You resist the urge to take more than a peripheral glance at yourself in the mirror.

The Dauntless woman is tall, she has tan skin and wears a pure black suit. Her dark hair is long, and pinned out of her face. When she looks at you, you’re sure that she’s glaring, but it has to be her natural look. Her eyes shift away from you as fast as they came. You trail behind her.

The mirrors cover every wall in the room, making it practically impossible to avoid staring. You keep reminding yourself that you looked this morning, that it should be good enough, that you didn’t change in a few hours. To save it for three months from now, when you’ll have passed the Abnegation initiation and you’ll be more satisfied with who you are.

The ceilings are white, and the light that it emits is also white. In the middle of the room sits a singular reclined chair, where you’ll be sitting when you take the test. You stop next to it, not sure if you should go ahead and just sit on it. You look to the Dauntless woman for guidance, but she doesn’t seem to notice for a while.

When she speaks, her voice is smooth and calm, as if she never has a reason to raise her voice, “My name is Laurel. Go ahead and take a seat.”

You nod, slowly sliding onto the chair. You place your head on the headrest, and at the angle you’re sitting, the white light has a perfect opportunity to shine straight into your eyes. Laurel doesn’t say anything else as she works on the machine, which is to your right. You stare at her, still trying to get the thought of just a peek at the mirror, out of your head.

When she’s done with the machine, she produces two electrodes that she places onto your forehead. The third belongs to her, right in the middle, and then she attaches a wire to it, and then to you, and then to the machine. She works quickly, she must do this often if she’s so confident in her movements.

As you watch her move, you take notice that besides the dark clothing she wears, there’s no other hint that she’s in Dauntless. No piercings blatantly on her face, no tattoos on her arms, face or neck. She could belong in any faction, and you wouldn’t have a clue which, if it weren’t for the black clothes.

And as you continue staring, you finally see it. It’s just a peak of a tattoo on her forearm, the only reason why you’ve caught it is because her blazer sleeves don’t go down to her wrists. It ends in the middle of her forearm. You didn’t get a good enough look at it the first time, but when she stretches and reaches for something next to the machine, you can see a mannequin. A headless one, just the body on a stand. There’s no color to it, it’s just shaded in different tones of grey.

“I like your tattoo.” you say, as she moves behind you. Not being able to see her directly anymore makes you a little anxious. 

You calm down some when she speaks, “Thank you.” She appears to your left, now. A vial of clear liquid in her fingers, out in your direction. You carefully take it from her, “Drink.”

You look at it for a moment, figuring that this is where the test starts. Not when you drink it, but whatever comes after. You’re careful not to let any of it spill onto your clothes. It tastes just like water, but your head feels heavy. Laurel takes the vial from you, you take a deep breath and close your eyes.

--

When they open, you’re not in the reclined chair. You’re not even inside of the aptitude testing room, you’re in the empty cafeteria, void of all students. The silence is overwhelming, you’re used to the screaming, laughing and singing. Now, you’re the only person here.

In front of you, on the table, sits two wooden baskets. Inside the one on the left, sits a hunk of cheese, a healthy yellow-orange color. While in the other basket is a knife, with a long silver blade. You stare at them for a moment, and nearly jump out of your skin when a voice breaks the silence.

“Choose.” The woman says behind you.

“What will I need them for?” you ask, eyes flickering between the choices.

“Choose.” The woman repeats, impatience growing in her voice.

Your fingers reach for the knife. When it’s in your hands, you stare down at it. The only times you use a knife is when you’re the one cooking dinner. It used to be a chore shared between everyone in your family, but now it’s only you and Reed. Depending on who starts the week off cooking, you’ll make dinner four times a week, or three.

The baskets disappear, the cheese with it. The only thing that stays is the knife, which you turn over in your hands, trying to find a comfortable way to hold it. A door creaks behind you, making you turn halfway to see what made the noise. You’re met with a dog, slowly inching its way towards you, lips peeling back as a growl rises in its throat.

In Abnegation, no one is allowed to have a pet. Whether it be a dog, a cat, a fish, or anything else. If you own a pet, it must be for your own pleasure, and not for the benefit of the animal. Therefore, owning an animal would be self-indulgent. The other factions don’t have to follow this rule, though. They’re allowed to own anything they’d like to.

Unfortunately, this means you have no experience with dogs. All you do know is that when you take a step backwards, the growl turns into a snarl. It’s loud and threatening enough to make you reconsider running away. You drag your foot back forward, and stare as the animal gets closer. 

The dog thinks you’re a threat, right? So, what’s a way that makes you look friendly? You try your best to find an answer while the dog gets closer. Soon, it’ll be right on top of you. You’ve got to work quicker than this. It can’t be that difficult. You close your eyes and try to remember all the times you’ve seen Alyssum or Reed afraid. Reed is practically impossible, but for Alyssum, it’s all the time.

She doesn’t like strangers, Reed says that this is common among little kids because they don’t know who is coming towards them. Reed says that you used to run behind your mother’s legs until the stranger seemed more approachable. You try to imagine a scene where someone would look more approachable.

And then it comes to you.

Your eyes open, looking at the dog, who is mere inches away from you. Slowly, you lower yourself into a crouch, giving the dog a smile. You hope that it can tell the difference between a smile and you baring your teeth. To further your friendliness, go you ahead and gently set the knife against the tile flooring, the blade makes a clicking sound.

With the sudden urge to hold your hand out toward the dog, you follow your instincts. It’s your only choice, you’d hate to use the knife against the dog. You’ve never owned one before, never came across one. To have your first encounter be a murder would be miserable, you’re sure that it would stick with you for a while after.

The dog doesn’t stop moving, but you were right to hold your hand out. The dog carefully lowers it’s lips back into place as it touches its nose against your palm, sniffing. You just want to be friends, you’re not here to hurt it. All the dog has to do is calm down. You slowly lower one knee to the floor, trying to make the situation even better.

It works. The dog licks your hand, and then nudges its head into your hand. Gently, you rub its ears, letting it come closer. The dog licks your face, right up the side of your cheek. You knock back a gag at the smell of its breath as you use the sleeve of your shirt to wipe off the slobber. You keep with petting it.

One second, it’s only you and the dog in the cafeteria. The next, you see a little girl standing across the room. She wears a white dress, so she must be from Candor--the faction’s colors is black and white, as truth and lies are black and white, with no grey area. She stares, her eyes land on the dog, and then a smile spreads across her face.

She starts towards you, “Puppy!” she calls, hands outstretched. 

You don’t think there’s a problem at first, but as soon as she starts to run, you tense. You reach your hand out, grabbing the back of the dog’s neck, hoping that’ll be enough to keep it in place. However, all it takes is one lurch towards the girl, and your hand slips. The girl stops in the aisle, eyes widening at the sight of the aggressive dog.

With how fast you get up, you nearly slip on the polished floor, chasing after the dog. It isn’t until you’re right next to it, do you remember the knife that’s still sitting on the floor, waiting to be used. It’s too late, you’re too far away, and if you turn back now, the dog will attack the girl. The dog goes to spring, you jump towards the girl.

Your hand curls around the back of her head to protect it from slamming against the tile. Her small arms wrap around your body like a hug. The floor draws near, and you tense again, bracing for the collision. But it’s all gone. The dog, the girl, the cafeteria. You’re back inside of the testing room, still alone.

You accidentally glance at the mirrors, and find that there’s no reflection. You go a little closer, hands touching the glass, a small frown appearing on your face. When you go towards the door, your handprint leaves a clear streak across the surface. Your hand turns the doorknob downward, and you push the door open.

There is no hallway on the other side of the door, only the bus you rode to school this morning. Carefully, you go out to join everyone else, but find that all the seats are full. You reach up, toward one of the metal handles on the ceiling just in case today’s ride isn’t smooth. When you look behind you, eyes searching for the door you came through, you see the bus. There was no door.

You stare out the window, over the top of a man’s head to watch the world outside blur. In his hands is a newspaper, opened wide enough to cover his face, but you can still see his hands. Slowly, you watch them clench around the paper, making it crinkle under the pressure.

“Do you know this guy?” The man asks you. You hum slightly, raising your eyebrows to see where he’s pointing to on the front page. The headline is bolded, “Brutal Murderer Finally Apprehended!”

You frown slightly, looking down to the picture next. You stare at it for a while, not sure what to say. The woman in the picture stares straight ahead, she has bangs, the rest of her hair is behind her shoulders. She doesn’t have any sort of facial expression, she’s just… calm.

“Do you?” he insists, your eyebrows push in.

You don’t know. Maybe you’ve seen her around somewhere at school? But she looks older than you, and you don’t know any older women. You can’t shake the expression on her face, though. You do know her? That can’t be right. You look to see the man’s face behind the newspaper, but you still can’t properly see. What do you tell him? You can’t just admit to something that you’re not sure is true.

“No.” you say slowly, hoping that’s the right answer. Up until now, you’ve been sure as to what to say and do, but now you’re caught in the unknown. 

The man is silent for a moment, before he slowly raises to his feet, newspaper dropping to the ground. Your eyes land on his face, which is angry, his eyebrows pulled downward. He clenches his fists, towering over you. When he breathes, all you can smell is tobacco.

“You’re lying, I can hear it in your voice.” he snaps, voice raising.

“How is it lying if I’m unsure?” you ask back, staring him right in the eye, “Would you have rather me said yes even if I didn’t know? That would also have been a lie.”

This is a situation where you lose either way, isn’t it? Unless you were supposed to say yes, that you do know her. Just because you vaguely recognized her doesn’t mean you know her. It means that you’ve seen her before. Then again, this is all a test, none of it is real. Which means that he isn’t real either.

“If you know her, you could save me.” he says, and when you don’t budge, he shouts, “You could save me!”

You lean forward a little bit, “No.”

--

You wake with a jolt, your hands finding the arms of the reclined chair. There’s a breathless feeling in your chest, as you struggle to get a hold of yourself. Your heart is pounding so loudly in your ears that it takes a while before you can even focus on anything else.

Laurel slowly picks the electrodes off of your forehead, and then hers. She says nothing to you. Somehow, her silence is louder now than it was before you went into the test. She sets everything back into place next to the machine. She takes a deep breath, “I’ll be right back, don’t move.”

You stay where you are, watching as she leaves through the door you came in. This is not supposed to happen. You’re practically told nothing about the test, what you’ll do inside, and what happens after. But it doesn’t take a genius to know that there is something wrong. You just don’t know what it is, and she hasn’t told you just yet.

Minutes pass, you pick at your nails with your fingers to keep from gnawing them off. The problem is the test. You did something inside of the test to cause this. But what part of it? The knife? The dog? The girl? The man? You did all of it the way you would, which is what you need to do in order to get the most authentic test results. It’s the whole point of the test in the first place!

You can hear the doorknob turn before Laurel walks back in. She still gives you no indication as to what she might be thinking when she comes over. She stops right next to you, fingers rubbing over the mannequin tattoo on her arm. Her lips are pressed together as she stares at you.

“Your test results are inconclusive.” she says.

You open your mouth, and then close it. Inconclusive? There’s been no result?

“Each stage of the simulation is supposed to eliminate one or more of the factions. But you managed to only rule out two of the five.” Her face is calm, her voice suggests otherwise. When you don’t interject, she continues, “Grabbing the knife is a Dauntless-oriented response, which got rid of Amity completely. You threw yourself between the dog and the girl instead of attacking the dog, so Abnegation. But you can’t be Abnegation because of what happened on the bus.

“Which then, also, ruled out Candor because you didn’t tell the truth. However, when the man said that you could save him, you still didn’t say anything, which isn’t normal for people in Abnegation. The question you posed to him on the bus suggests Erudite, same thing for how you handled the aggressive dog.” she stops talking.

You’re quiet too, “So if I’m not Amity and Candor, I’m Erudite, Abnegation and Dauntless?”

“You hold equal aptitude for each of those factions, yes.” she says, and for the first time, you see a frown appear on her face. It looks unusual on her, especially now that you’ve figured she doesn’t typically show emotion, “(Y/n), when tests are inconclusive… it means the person taking it is Divergent.”

Suddenly, you don’t feel like you should be calm with this news. You’ve never heard of the word before, but the way she whispered it tells you that it’s not good. No matter what context it lies inside, no one should want to be Divergent. And here you are, stuck with the label.

“Do not tell anyone of your test result.” Laurel straightens up, “Not family, not friends, not the leader of the faction you choose next. Being Divergent is dangerous, and so is standing out.”

She moves out of the way, allowing you to get to your feet. She moves back over to the machine. You dig your nails into your palm.

“You have to report the test results, don’t you?” you ask, watching her.

“Yes.”

You press your lips together momentarily, “What are you putting me in as?”

Laurel’s fingers pause, thinking this over. When she looks at you, her eyebrows are raised, “What do you want it to be?”

You don’t want to make this choice. This should not be left up to you to decide. You didn’t even know what you really wanted going in, how are you supposed to know now? Especially when there aren’t any answers being given to you? But then you remember what you thought in the cafeteria.

“Abnegation.” you say.

It has to be Abnegation. There was no choice about it.

“I’ll put in Abnegation, then.”

You stand in the room, unsure of what to do next. But you guess that you can’t just disappear. If you’re already in deep trouble with the Divergence, then that means leaving on your own will could raise eyebrows. You just have to tough out the rest of the day, as soon as you’re alone, you’ll be able to think.

And convince yourself that you’re making the right choice.

--

Instead of taking the bus home, you walk with Finnick to the Abnegation housing so that you can spend as much time together as possible. This will be the last time the two of you will get to hang out and talk before the Choosing Ceremony tomorrow. Then, you’ll be left to switch to a different faction, or stay with the one you’re in now. Even with the time you’ve burned walking here, thinking to yourself, you’ve made no progress. 

You thought that it would be over as soon as you picked Abnegation, that you would be able to move on immediately. But it feels like you’ve made the wrong decision. You don’t feel complete or satisfied with the answer you gave Laurel. In fact, each time you think about what you told her, you feel sick. You can’t be regretting it, can you?

If you are, you have less than a day to fix it and make up your mind.

Finnick kicks a rock, sending it flying down the asphalt. You watch as it slowly skitters along until it falls into a pothole, temporarily out of sight until you pass it when you get up there.

“So, you going to tell me what you got on the aptitude test or not?” you ask, looking at Finnick.

A smile cracks onto his face, “You’re not supposed to ask, you know.”

“Out of all the rules we’ve broken, you think this one matters the most?” you raise your eyebrows, “Wow, maybe you do deserve to stay in Abnegation.”

Finnick shoves your shoulder hard enough to make you barely lose balance. You laugh, he tries not to. But the longer it lasts, and the louder it gets, he can’t help the smile that comes across his face.

“It’s not funny.” he says, chuckling slightly.

“Then why are you smiling?”

“Because you won’t shut up.” he shakes his head.

You wait a moment, before trying a different angle, “Did you end up rigging it?”

“Nah, I was too nervous to. Plus I got stuck with the Candor guy so that kinda ruined it.” Finnick then cracks up, “All I did was look at myself in the mirror and the guy said: ‘That’s not very Abnegation of you’. So I told him that the Candor aren’t supposed to lie, speaking their mind wasn’t included the last time I checked. He wasn’t very happy.”

“I’m sure he called your mom immediately after.” You’re laughing.

“He probably cried after I left.” Finnick says, trying to keep a straight face. A second later, he’s laughing hard enough for him to stop so that he doesn’t fall.

Here, in the safe confines of the Abnegation neighborhoods, you’re not held under the same weights as you are inside of the school. You don’t have to be composed here, which means that you can be as loud as you want. You can laugh, joke, and play around with Finnick if you really wanted to. You’ve done it plenty of times in the past, before. It’s only when you’re in public spaces, around the other factions, when you’re supposed to be forgettable. 

This is a reason why you don’t think that staying here could be bad. You will always have time to goof off, it’ll just have to be in private.

“How did your test go? You looked worried after.” Finnick stands his full height, reaching his arms into the air as he stretches. When he’s done, he grabs the backs of his shoulders and lets his elbows hand in his face.

“Oh, you know, my worst nightmare came true.”

Finnick falls quiet. Just like how you know that Finnick doesn’t want to be here, he knows that you don’t exactly find this place pleasant, either. There’s a lot of memories that have attached themselves to you against your will. Plus, everyone in this faction knows your secrets and what has happened to you in the last couple of years. It’s practically inescapable.

“So, you think you’ll stay?” he asks.

The two of you stop in front of your house. He lives further down the road, so Finnick has the perfect chance to walk you home everyday. On some days, you don’t like it because he’s more high-energy. But today, you wish that you could walk and talk with him for a little while longer. Take paths that you’ve never taken before, see new things and find a reason to stay that you haven’t thought of just yet.

You give Finnick a shrug because you don’t know. You may have made your results Abnegation, but they don’t tie you down. Just because you score something on your test doesn’t mean you have to stay. You didn’t get Amity and Candor, but tomorrow you could still choose to go there. It’s your choice, but you have to remember that it’s permanent. It has to be a choice that you can live with.

“I’m still looking for a reason not to.” you tell Finnick, “I don’t suppose you’ll tell me what you’ve gotten?”

Finnick gives you a half-smile, “You’ll have to wait and see tomorrow.”

You let out a dramatic sigh, “It better be good.”

“I’ve decided to become a brainwashed Erudite.” Finnick says, he pretends to push up glasses that aren’t on his face, “According to my calculations, the chemical solution that you are currently holding in your hand--”

“Okay, you can shut up.” you laugh, “It’s horrifying enough trying to picture you in glasses.”

Finnick smiles again, “No matter what happens tomorrow, we’ll be okay, right?”

“Finnick, you’re my best friend. You’ll have to do a lot more than leaving me behind to make me mad at you.” you hold out your hand for him to take. In Abnegation, greetings are always done through head nods. You’re not supposed to get physical with others. However, this could be it. And you’ve broken so many rules, why not another? 

Finnick places his hand in yours. You go to shake, figuring that the Candor greeting could be good enough, but he pulls you in. You collide with his body, feeling his arms wrap around you as a hug. For a moment, you stand there, arms hovering over his body. But then you place your head on his shoulder, squeezing him tightly. You might not have been cut out for Amity, but a goodbye like this feels natural.

“Choose what you want, not what everyone is telling you to.” he murmurs.

“Same thing goes for you, okay?” you pull away, giving him a warm smile, “I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Stupid’s my middle name.” Finnick backs up, and then holds up his hand, “See you on the flip side.”

You give him a wave, and then head inside of the house. The door clicks shut behind you, you stand in the doorway, staring into the living room. Reed is at work, Alyssum is next door, being watched by the neighbors. You walk through the quiet house and to your room. It’s bland, only the bare necessities in here. There’s no decoration on the desk, shelf or walls. You let the backpack drop to the floor.

You leave the house to go next door, knuckles hitting the door hard enough to call attention to the fact that you’re outside. You wait patiently, looking toward the direction where Finnick had gone. You’ve only been to his house a few times, and it was always to have dinner with his family. 

The door in front of you opens to reveal Naida Dorazio, a family friend. She’s the mother of one girl, and four boys. Her two oldest kids are already gone and in different factions. The girl, Calandra, is well into her twenties, like Reed. She’s the oldest, and transferred to Erudite long before they started releasing reports about Abnegation. As for the second oldest, his name is Caspian, he was in Reed’s grade. They were good friends just before he transferred, you can’t remember where he is now.

Because Naida has three boys to take care of, who are all in either Lower Levels or Middle Levels, she stays home most of the time. She has a job, but it’s part-time. It’s her husband, Amon, who works full-time. She volunteered to take care of Alyssum during the day for your family so that Reed could go and work. You just have to be sure to pick her up after school.

Naida gives you a wide smile, “How was your test?”

“Good, thank you for asking.”

“It’s an easy decision, I hope.” she says.

You smile back, “Yeah.”

She disappears from the doorway for a moment. When she reappears, she’s got Alyssum in her arms. Upon seeing you, Aly stretches her arms in your direction, similar to how the little girl in the aptitude test reached for the dog. You bring Alyssum into your arms, she places her head against your shoulder.

“Thank you.” you say.

“Good luck tomorrow.”

She shuts the door when you start towards your own house. Alyssum will probably be put down for a brief nap so that you can make dinner, even though you made breakfast this morning. Technically, it should be Reed’s turn. But without any homework to do, and with how tired Alyssum is, you need an excuse to busy your hands.

Alyssum falls asleep almost immediately, you end up in the kitchen, humming to yourself. You defrost chicken, and start with a can of vegetables on the stove. You do the dishes, and bounce back to cook the chicken when you’re done. By the time that Reed comes home, dinner is ready, Alyssum is already in her high chair, and you’re setting the table.

Reed sets his things by the door, then helps you set the rest of the table. You place the food into serving plates and bowls, then set it on the table too. Reed has to make a separate plate for Alyssum, but she knows to wait until you and Reed are situated. You let Reed start and pass the bowls and plates to you so that you can serve yourself. In Abnegation, no one eats until everyone has a full plate.

The room is filled with forks and spoons clinking against the glass plates until Reed breaks the silence. You don’t speak first anymore. For a while, you used to. You just wanted something to talk about, because you can’t guess what Reed feels like. But after Reed got upset at you enough times, you stopped. How are you supposed to be Abnegation if you’re not comfortable in silence? 

“How was your aptitude test?” he asks. For once, he actually watches you answer. Reed will ask questions out of courtesy of you. Like you said, you used to speak a lot during dinner. Sometimes he can tell when you just want something to talk about. Your day at school, his day at work, a dinner plan with a family, whatever.

Today is not one of those days when you need to speak about what happened. 

“It went well.” you say, looking at him.

Most of the time, Reed won’t actually stare when you answer his questions. It’s like he’s always half-here, half-somewhere else. It doesn’t mean that he doesn’t listen, though. He’s always listening, and if you aren’t careful about what you said, he’ll bring it up later, in a different conversation.

“If it went well, then why did you make dinner?” he asks, eyebrows raising slightly as he cuts into his chicken.

He acts like you can’t do anything nice in this house, “I didn’t have any homework. I thought it wouldn’t hurt to start dinner early.” you pause for a moment, not sure whether or not you should ask the question that’s burning on your tongue. But it’s coming out either way, because you’re not a child, and Reed can’t keep seeing you as one, “Is there a problem with that?”

Defiance is not a natural Abnegation trait, obedience is. 

Reed doesn’t say anything in turn. He can’t ask about your results, Reed is a rule-follower. But maybe you saying that is a big enough hint of what you might have gotten. Laurel might have put you in as Abnegation, but you’ve got two other factions right on it’s tail. Some stronger, and a much better option for you, than others.

Tonight, dinner ends in a tense silence. Reed doesn’t allow you to clean the table, or the dishes. And there will be no time together in the family room tonight, either. Which is probably for the best, you’re not all that upset. Reed will need time to calm down before he speaks to you tomorrow morning. He doesn’t lose his composure often, but when it happens, it’s not pretty.

You go up to your room, shutting the door behind you. You stand in the middle of the room, staring at the wall. Tonight could be your last night inside of your room, inside of the house that you’ve called home for sixteen years. Or, you could come back to it tomorrow evening, after folding chairs and helping the other Abnegation clean the room.

The more today drags on, the more your sight begins to blur.

You’re not sure you can stay in Abnegation. Not without Finnick here to be around when you’re having a hard time with Reed. And if you stay, there’s a chance that he might too. Finnick is completely capable of picking things for himself, but you know that there will be a certain amount of guilt when it comes to him. You’re his best friend, he’s seen you in every condition that there is to be in.

Which might be all the more reason to go live somewhere else. It could mean something better. A fresh start.

A sick feeling rises in your stomach when you realize that this must be the exact confliction that Mox must have been in the night before his Choosing Ceremony. Mox, who seemed the most selfless out of the three of you. And still he had the courage to switch factions and try something new.

The question is, do you?

--

ANTERIC IS A SPIN-OFF DIVERGENT AU //MASTERLIST//

add yourself to the TAGLIST

@amixedwitch / @justthatfangirloverthere / @fnnshelbys / @neenieweenie / @vxntae / @liaaacantwrite 

[ilguna]

Anteric - Chapter Four (f.o)

summary: secrets have more worth than you gave them credit for.

warnings; swearing. GORE, HEAVY BLOOD, FIGHTING, PAIN.

wc; 10.3k

NOTES; I give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

There’s only a few people that can get ready without complaining. And proudly, you can say that you’re one of them. With Finnick, Thyme and Allio being the other three that had practically gone untouched from yesterday’s fights. Well, actually, Finnick did go untouched, but that’s for obvious reasons.

You watch the other initiates move around the dormitory, all varying in the ways they hold themselves because of their injuries. Amos’ face is swollen, thanks to Thyme’s fists--which was split at her knuckles because of how spread out her skin had been. She didn’t find this out until after the fight, when Amos’ blood had been wiped off and she could see why her hands were stinging so badly.

Amos also has an arm wrapped around his ribs, where Thyme had kicked him. He’s been rotating ice packs since last night, so he’s got one pressed to his cheekbone right now. It looks like he might end up with a black eye by the end of the week. Too bad it won’t get any time to heal. All your injuries will just keep piling on until the physical stage of the initiation is over.

Finnick’s victim, Eytelle, does everything she can to avoid touching her jaw. Unlike Amos, it seems like she has some sort of pride about not using ice to make it feel better. Her face will occasionally twist when she opens her mouth to speak, so you’re happy to say that her smartass Candor mouth won’t be running today.

And finally, Trink is the worst out of everyone in the room. Even compared to Amos, who didn’t go down easily when he went up against Thyme, is better than her. Trink has been complaining about a headache in her temple since yesterday, and each time she brings it up, she’ll glare at you. You ignored it the first couple of times, but you went ahead and reminded her that she had a chance to give up, and she didn’t.

The only person missing from the dormitory today is Ossie, she didn’t come into the room last night before the lights were turned out. So, you’re going to take a good guess that she’s in the medical unit that they have here in Dauntless. If that’s the case, you’re nota ll that surprised, there’s no way that she should be authorized to come back into the ring if she’s seriously hurt.

However, if she doesn’t recover soon, she’ll end up being cut. Caspian won’t exempt her from the rankings, because it’s not fair if he does. To someone else, it’d be unfair because she can’t control how fast her healing process is. If she jumps right back into it, she risks injuring herself even more, which could then make a permanent problem. But, it’s perfectly fair. She couldn’t defend herself inside of the arena, therefore she needs to step up her game.

Or she’s not cut out to be in Dauntless.

It’s a ruthless faction for a reason.

The aptitude test can tell you what faction you’re made for, but when you’re face to face with other initiates that fit the requirements better, suddenly you don’t measure up. You’d like to say that at some point, Dauntless wasn’t always like this, and they didn’t cut most of the initiates like they do now. But something changed, which then prompted for Dauntless to become a harder faction to get into. 

And it makes perfect sense, at least to you. Dauntless is supposed to be the police, security, the ones who watch the wall and what may be on the outside. Dauntless is the army that would be called on if it were needed. There’s a saying that every army is as strong as their weakest link. And in Dauntless, no one is supposed to be weak. They want to eliminate that problem, so initiation continues to get harder to only allow in the persistent initiates. The ones that can handle Dauntless.

Anyway, if Ossie isn’t careful, she’ll be the first of the four to be cut in the first stage. You’re not sure how long the first stage lasts, or how many fights you have to cycle through before you’re finally over, but she’ll need a comeback. Just like everyone else who lost their first match. Otherwise, they’re just going to find themselves factions. Which, in a way, would probably be a better option than running themselves into the ground. At least then they’d have a chance at living.

For them, being factionless may always be an option. But you think that you’d rather die trying to get into Dauntless than live with the shame of being factionless because you couldn’t make it. And since Abnegation has a reputation for welcoming former members back in, you think it would be even worse. Crawling to Reed’s doorstep and begging for forgiveness.

Knowing Reed, he’d probably turn you down.

Thyme jumps into her black jeans, shifting from foot to foot to make sure that they’re up all the way. You can vaguely see Finnick in the bathroom, leaned over a sink while he brushes his teeth. You’d be getting ready with them, but you had an early start this morning. Mostly because after you woke up the first time to roll over, yesterday’s question about your family made itself known. 

And then, as the hours drew on and your mind wandered, you sank deeper into your mattress when you realized that your words can have consequences. You are not untouchable here in Dauntless, and Caspian is in a position of power. He can retaliate if he wants, sabotage your stages to make it harder for you to pass. And he’s going to feel more inclined to, now that you’ve accused him of still being attached to Abnegation. Especially since you did it right in front of Laurel.

You may be his ex-best friend’s little sister, but he never had an attachment to you. To him, you’re expendable, he’s got other initiates that he can really pour his focus into. And being one of those people is Finnick, who showed great significance yesterday. He has fighting experience, which means that he should be in some sort of advanced class. He’s already better than the rest of you.

For now, at least. We’ll see how well he keeps up during the emotional and mental stages of initiation.

Thyme sits down on her bottom bunk, beginning to tie her shoes. Finnick comes out of the bathroom, fully dressed and running a hand through his hair. On the way out of the dormitory is Amos, his shoulders are hunched in and he’s still holding the ice pack to his cheek. The more he collapses in on himself, the smaller he seems. And since he’s not very tall to begin with, the last thing he needs is to appear less threatening.

“Ready to go to the training room?” you swing your feet, watching as Finnick continues to fix his hair, standing off to the side.

“Wish we had enough time for breakfast.” Thyme mutters, she yanks her laces tight, “I also wish we didn’t have to fight first thing in the morning.”

“It’s a good way to wake up.” Finnick says.

“You just want to fight.” 

You try to kick near his head, he dodges, grabbing a hold of your ankle, “I was actually hoping I’d get to fight you.”

You stare at him, “Why?”

He lets go of your foot, giving you a shrug, “I’m just curious how you’ll hold up against me.”

You mock a smile, “Well, let’s just hope I end up with you, then.”

If you were put in the ring with Finnick, you wouldn’t come out as the winner. Not only does he have more experience, he has a height advantage, he’s unpredictable. You’ve spent several years of your life watching him fight other teenagers, and there’s only been a couple of times where you’ve been able to predict his next move. The most you’ve figured out is that he likes his fights over with as soon as they begin. Which is as dangerous as dangerous can get.

Thyme stands up, so you slip off the top bunk, landing on your feet. Thyme leads the way out of the dorm, you and Finnick elbow each other back and forth on the way out. When you pass in front of Trink, Allio and Eytelle, they momentarily fall silent. As soon as you’re through the door, they resume speaking. 

You might end up fighting one of them today, with the exception of Trink. If you’re lucky, it won’t be Eytelle, she’s got the same height advantage that Finnick does. If you’re extremely unlucky, you’ll end up with Allio, who hardly looked fazed at Ossie’s kick yesterday. And it looked like she put all her strength into it. So either she’s weak, like you originally thought she was, or Allio is a sponge.

Then again, you could always land yourself with Amos, Thyme or Finnick. Amos is shorter than you, much like Thyme. You think that you could easily take him on. As for Thyme, she might be more of a challenge, she did seem to give the fight her all when she needed it at the end. However, just like Eytelle and Finnick, you’ve got an advantage when it comes to height. 

Honestly, you really hope that you aren’t paired with Thyme or Finnick at all. It’s an unrealistic hope, because there’s not enough people to be rotated around, so you’re going to be stuck with one of them eventually. But if it really came down to it, you’d rather take on Thyme than Finnick anyday.

“Tell us your predictions.” Finnick says. It sounds like a demand, but it’s actually a question.

You’re quiet for a moment as you all go through a stretch of darkness. The first match was predictable, Caspian would want to set you guys up against people that look like you guys to see where you measure. That’s why Finnick was placed with Eytelle, based on height. Thyme with Amos based on scrawniness. And Ossie and Allio because they had to be together in order for you and Trink to be in the ring together. However, you and Trink could have very well been placed together because of body weight and the way you carry yourselves, and Allio and Ossie were leftovers.

Needless to say, you were more or less right on the prediction. All you have to do this time is go off your gut feeling again, because that’s what happened last time.

You decide to hold your answer until you get to the next light source. Then, you three stop and stand around it, “Okay, Ossie wasn’t in the room last night, so I think that she’ll be sitting out. Since it’ll be uneven, I’m pretty sure one of us won’t be fighting.” You pause, you don’t think that it’ll be you or Finnick. It could be Thyme, but she was a winner, so they’d want to push her to see what she can do. A loser would sit out instead. Maybe Amos?

“I’m thinking that they’ll pair us with opposites today. And I don’t mean strength-wise.”

Finnick nods slowly, probably trying to decide who would be his opposite. Thyme massages her knuckles, eyebrows raising slightly. You can hear the faint echo of Trink, Allio and Eytelle in the background, and they do too. So, you all start walking again.

It’s quiet for the rest of the way. Finnick pushes open the set of the doors, holding it open for you and Thyme. Laurel and Caspian stand next to the chalkboard, standing in the way of the names. Amos stands by himself, hands shoved into his pockets. Ossie is by herself, a bandage around her head, arms crossed as she stares at the ground.

The three of you stand on the other side of the ring, opposite to where the chalkboard is, where you’d been yesterday. It gives you a clear view of Caspian, who raises his eyebrows faintly. Other than that, there’s no expression on his face. No hint that he might be angry after what you said to him yesterday.

You’ve never been afraid of Caspian, but when he burns in silence, is the time where fear begins to sprout in your stomach. The times where he doesn't have to look smug, are times where he’s set up something particularly hellish. You said that he’d pair you with your opposites, but you’ve failed to remember, again, that Caspian might be angry.

Allio and Ossie were leftovers last time, an exception to the idea you presented last time. Which means that he could very well have made a second one. It would make sense, not everyone can have an opposite. And the only person who can serve a real punishment to you, would be Finnick.

Your eyes peel away from Caspian to look at Finnick, who’s playing with his nose ring again, staring into space. He wouldn’t make you go against Finnick, it’s too predictable. You look back at Caspian to see that he’s got a small smirk on his face, the same one he wore after you won the fight against Trink yesterday. And you change your mind again, because when has Caspian ever cared about his motives being out in the open?

Trink, Allio and Eytelle make it into the room just as the clock hits eight. They decide to stay near the door today, so you go ahead and move left more. It’s just an open space between you and Amos, and since hatred hasn’t been expressed between you two, you don’t think it’ll hurt to be closer to him. Especially if it means to get away from the other three.

“Good morning.” Caspian says, “I see some of you are doing better than others.”

No one says anything back, he cracks a smile. He then waves a hand toward Laurel, signaling her to move out of the way. She side-steps, and reveals the pairing. There’s only three rows, which means you were right about someone sitting out.

“It’s uneven today, only six of you will be fighting. If your name’s not on the board, congrats, you get a break today.” Caspian says.

You read over the names.

Finnick and Thyme.

You and Allio.

Amos and Eytelle.

Ossie and Trink are sitting out today.

There’s a couple of things that come to mind immediately. The first is that the winners are paired together, and the losers are too. The second is that you’re not with Finnick, it’s Thyme who gets the misfortune of having to face him. You know that he’ll get it over with quickly, but Thyme is going to want to win the fight. She’s not going to take the loss.

A cruel thought spirals, nearly passing through your lips. Thyme will be the perfect opponent to ensure he keeps his streak. You don’t see her winning against him, which means he’ll bag two wins. And depending on whether or not you beat Allio today, you might too. In the end, you might have to end up facing Finnick. 

You look over at your friends to see that they’re less than thrilled. Thyme is still staring at the chalkboard, as if it’s some mistake. And Finnick doesn’t look as excited as he did yesterday. He crosses his arms, but still reaches up to play with the nose ring with his thumb. It’s even worse because they’ll be going first today, they say nothing to each other.

And because you can’t help it, you go ahead and look at Allio, who’s already got a small grin on his face as he talks to his friends. You and him will be the second fight today. You wait for some type of fear to appear in your body, but there’s nothing. You were wrong on your theory. Allio isn’t as bad as Finnick. You have a chance at winning.

While you’re staring at Allio, you catch a glimpse of Trink, who looks relieved. So, you lean toward Finnick and Thyme, not trying to be quiet but trying to diffuse the growing tension between them. “They’re only letting her sit out because I beat her to shit.”

Eyes land on you, you pull back and stand straight again. Finnick lets out a laugh, Thyme has a smile on her face, “It’s like putting her into time out.”

You know that you will not face Trink again, there’s no reason to be afraid of her. The only people you’re worried about, are the two Candor idiots standing next to her. One of which you will face today.

“Finnick and Thyme!” Caspian calls, motioning to the ring, “Get to it.”

“Try not to kill each other.” You tell them, neither of them say anything.

Inside of the ring, they pick their spots opposite of each other. Finnick is the first to raise his hands, in perfect position. Thyme rolls her wrists once or twice before she raises hers. With them standing across from each other like this, she seems to have a chance. But when they’re standing next to each other, you have no hope for Thyme.

They shuffle in a circle, Thyme trying to find an opening. She won’t, not unless Finnick takes the first punch. And he might, if they continue to go around like this. A look to Caspian tells you that he’s getting impatient. They make a loop again, he clears his throat. Neither of them lunge at each other. 

This won’t last for much longer. This is going against Finnick’s rule of making a fight quick. But he’s probably stalling so that he doesn’t have to hit her first. For a second, you think that he might let her win, since she’s a friend. Then you remember what he said to you fifteen minutes ago, his hope that you’ll be his opponent. Which transforms into the streak thought. He will not pass up this opportunity.

Finnick gets impatient, starting to move in on her. Thyme tries to keep backing up, trying to get away from him. In your hand, you chant for her to stop moving and let him make his move. Finnick wants it quick, he’ll aim for weak spots on her head. All she has to do is dodge the punch, and give it her all as fast as possible before moving out again.

She has to be like a wave of water.

Thyme hits the edge of the ring, Caspian briefly moves forward to shove her back in, “Fight!”

Thyme stumbles over her feet, drawing her too close to Finnick. He doesn’t wait for her to recover, swinging. You think Thyme sees, because she drops to her knees, avoiding the hit. She stops long enough to draw her arm back, fist aimed toward his shins. But then she hesitates, changing her move.

You watch her full-force uppercut Finnick’s crotch.

There’s a gasp from Finnick, face twisting as his hands grab the area. You press your lips together, covering your mouth. You shouldn’t laugh. Thyme gets back onto her feet, raising her fists again, the soft expression she had, has faded now. She brings her foot up, slamming it into his back.

Finnick’s hissing through his teeth, stumbling forward and trying to straighten himself out. He’s clearly in pain, and you can’t blame him. Thyme looked like a hard hitter yesterday, and Amos is the display case. 

Finnick turns towards Thyme, cracking his neck, “See, I was going to go easy on you.” his face takes on the same scary look that he gave Eytelle, “But if you want to play dirty…”

Thyme beckons him closer without saying a word. Finnick heads closer. She’s aware of where the ring ends now, you can see her glance down every now and then to make sure she hasn’t backed out of it. But each time she looks away from Finnick, he jerks closer, until he’s right in front of her, and she doesn’t even realize it.

Her hands are protecting her face, so he aims for her stomach. This sends her stumbling back, standing on the white line. He tries to punch her again, she slips under his arm unharmed, and appears behind him. She goes to take advantage of this, but she’s too slow. Finnick spins around, and slams his foot into her ribs. 

Just like that, Thyme hits the floor, eyes wide, hands on the spot he just kicked. She sucks in a breath, looking up at Finnick, who towers over her. She stares for a moment, and then her eyes flicker to his feet, and she tries to get moving. She’s just barely on her feet, going to slip under Finnick’s arm again, when he grabs a hold of the back of her shirt, yanking her towards him.

He’s quick to grab the neck of her shirt when he can, twisting his fist and lifting slightly to keep her from sliding out of her shirt. He draws his right hand back, tilts his head to the side, and goes to punch her face. She moves out of the way by a hair, eyes continuing to widen, following his fist. He goes to try again, and manages to graze her cheek. 

Thyme winces, trying to squirm out of his grasp. And for one final time, he brings his hand back, and punches her jaw.

She hangs in the air, Finnick slowly lowers her back to her feet, and then wraps an arm around her body. He looks up at Caspian, who gives Finnick a nod before circling his name. 

Finnick won, just like you thought he would.

Finnick half-carries, half-drags Thyme’s body out of the ring. He slowly lowers her to the floor, where she lays there for a minute or two, not waking up. But then her eyes pop open, and she blinks a couple of times, squinting.

She’s alive, which means it’s your turn to fight your life.

“(Y/n) and Allio!” Caspian calls.

Finnick gives you a pat on the back, “Good luck.”

You wish you could say you don’t need it.

You and Allio come from your respective groups. With you on the far left, and him on the right. From where you stand, Caspian is still in sight, and he has a smile on his face. There’s something that you’re not aware of.

You stretch your arms and legs, cracking your knuckles, tilting your head from side to side. Allio watches you with raised fists. You bounce from foot to foot, raising your own hands. You inhale and exhale, looking over his form.

The only movement he allows is moving in the circle, like you guys were taught to do. His face is straight, his hands are where they need to be. You sweep over his body over and over to find that there’s no openings. Which means that you need to create one without getting hit. 

You made the first move yesterday, it was in your best interest to. This time, you need to let Allio come to you. You keep shuffling, but don’t move, not even when he begins to come closer. In fact, you start circling the other way, making him change his rhythm and show you what he might have been planning.

He takes much bigger steps towards you with his right leg, now. But will hesitate and back up when you pause for a moment, going toward him. Either he wants to kick you, or he wants an easy escape if you move toward him. You let him continue to come closer, prepared for a kick.

And then he launches forward.

All it took was a single blink.

There’s an explosion of pain across your nose, a sickening snap that fills the air. You inhale sharp enough to trigger a cough attack. Your hand flies to your nose, now throbbing and sending needle-like pain through the nerves. In just a couple of seconds, your palms are coated in blood, beginning to pool.

You look back up at Allio in time to see him jumping at you again. You move out of the way, flinging your handful of blood at the floor, right where his foot lands. There’s a moment of steadiness, before he slips and hits the floor hard enough for you to feel it beneath your shoes. 

You grit your teeth, drawing your foot back, lip curling, aiming for his head. You expect him to block his face with his forearms, like you were taught to. But he grabs a hold of your ankle with a tight grip and rolls over, pulling you down.

Your entire body hits the wooden floor, hands slapping hard enough for them to make a sound. Allio lets go of your foot, and goes to start crawling on top of you. If he wants to play the foot game, though, then he’s going to get it. You wind your foot back, sending your heel into his chest, knocking him back. You scoot back after that, getting to your feet.

He broke your nose, and it’s gushing blood. Your nose is crooked. You bring the bottom of your shirt up to your lower face, wiping away the fresh wave of red. Each time you breathe out, there’s a couple of droplets that fly through the air. Allio gets back to his feet, you raise your fists, gritting your teeth harder.

You didn’t expect him to be an easy fight, but you were hoping he wouldn’t be this hard.

Allio comes at you again, swinging at your face. This time, you see, so you duck. His arm flies over your head, making a clear path for his chin. Without thinking it through, you shoot up, knuckles slamming into skin and bone. Immediately, there’s a sharp pain that goes through your hand, but you’ve temporarily immobilized Allio.

His mouth is hanging open, backing away from you as he grabs the area you just punched. In the meantime, you steal a glance at your knuckles to see that they’re turning a deep shade of purple already. You try to stretch your hand, and end up crying out in pain.

You look back up at Allio to see that he’s recovered. You don’t know if you can punch him again. Not with your potentially broken knuckles. Your non-dominant hand isn’t all that strong, either. You could always try, but you’ll end up failing.

You suck in a breath through your nose, raising your fists again.

Allio comes in again, since you refuse to move. You need to get the upper hand. So far, you’re the one taking all the injuries, so he needs to receive some too. You sniff, feeling all snot and blood, and then you breathe through your mouth. It’s hard not to pay attention to your nose.

When he’s close enough, you fake right, but go left, swinging your non-dominant hand. It doesn’t feel right, and you don’t hit as hard as you mean to. The punch to Allio’s jaw just moves him backward. You didn’t get as close to his chin as you wanted to.

Allio seems to realize your dilemma, and a sadistic smile grows on his face. There’s a sudden boost in confidence in his movements, and he doesn’t hesitate to come closer anymore. He must’ve been wary of your punches, but now that you can’t hit him, he’s practically untouchable. The only way you can kick him is if you get him down. But even then, he managed to catch you last time.

You have three choices. Two of them back you into a shameful corner, the third means you go down swinging, or you win the match. No matter what happens, you will not take whatever punishment Caspian has lined up for you, in the case you decide to call mercy. And you will not just stand here and take what Allio has to deliver.

Allio swings, you back out of the way. You have to get around him somehow. Get behind him like how Thyme got behind Finnick. She was able to duck under his arm, but you’ve done that twice already. Allio has probably learned his lesson, you need a new way.

He barely comes close enough, you drop to the floor and sweep his feet. Allio loses his balance, you raise up a little, but he’s on his back, vulnerable. You jump at him, fist raised, hand wrapping around one of his wrists, pinning his arm to the ground. You hesitate actually punching him for too long, and his other hand slams into your jaw, making a red hot pain spread through your face and teeth.

Your head knocks back, eyes on the ceiling before you’re falling against the floorboards. You can feel the coolness of the wood through the fabric of your shirt. And for a moment, you think that you could lay here all day and not move. But then you see Allio coming towards you, eyes dark and threatening, and decide that you’ll lay on the floor another day.

Even though you should get up, you don’t move, trying to catch your breath, but you keep an eye on him. If he comes any closer, you think you’ll kick him in the face. Kick him like how you punched Trink. One hit that’ll get him to stop moving for good.

You lift your foot to find that he’s already holding onto it.

You twist around, rolling over and kicking his shoulder with your left foot as hard as you can. He doesn’t let go, instead pulling you in. He lets go of your ankle, and since you’re just beneath him, he raises his fist. His elbow bends, lifting it up far too high just for it to be a knockout punch, and unwinds on you.

You jerk to the left in time for him to slam his hand into the floor. 

“Idiot.” you snuff, your voice doesn’t sound like it belongs to you.

While Allio is shaking his knuckles, hissing out curses, you lazily raise back to your feet. Your mouth has an overflow of snot and blood because you refuse to breathe through your nose. You send a wad of red spit flying out of the ring, towards Caspian’s feet before raising your hands.

This fight is not over yet.

When Allio raises back to his feet, his hands aren’t raised, and he comes at you with genuine rage. This is the look that Ossie must have seen yesterday. The look of pure anger from the taunting, going all in and pulling back before it’s too late. The difference now is that you’re embarrassing him. For him, this should have been an easy fight, considering his brute strength yesterday.

Allio finally raises his fists when he gets you cornered. He swings with his left hand--no, he normally punches with his right.

Large black blots block your vision. The pain is hard and warm, pounding on the side of your head. Your hands connect with the cold floorboards once again, and you struggle to blink your eyes free of the dark restraints. For a moment, you’re terrified because the darkness is staying longer than it should. But a ray of light comes through.

You can hear Allio coming up behind you.

Get up.

Even if the stars are just now allowing you to see, you need to get up.

You struggle to make your legs solidify beneath you.

When you turn to face Allio after what feels like forever, you’re met with a solid pain in the middle of your chest, knocking you backwards, stealing your air. You barely keep on your feet this time, anticipating the ground, gasping to try and fix the empty feeling in your lungs. It hurts to breathe in this much. You press an open hand to your chest, eyes finding Allio’s face through the spots, only to see that he’s mere inches away.

One hand on your shoulder, the other one drives it’s way into your stomach. Nausea sprouts, accompanying the dizziness that hasn’t gone away since he punched you. All the air you had just gained, is gone again. A moan leaves your lips from the soreness. 

Allio wraps his hand around your throat, you can feel the ground disappearing beneath your shoes. There’s a sudden spike of terror again, and all you can picture is this exact same scenario with Ossie. Allio lifting Ossie into the air as if she was as light as a feather. Allio throwing her down to the floor. The sound of her head cracking open. Her not moving after. The blood turning her blonde hair, rich red. Laurel having to carry her out.

This will not be you.

You swing your foot as far back as possible, desperate for air. Your foot crushes into Allio’s stomach, making his face turn a sudden shade of bright red, and then he drops you.

The ground is a lot further down than you realized.

You try to catch yourself and fail, a scream leaving your throat. Your head slams against the wooden floorboards anyway, but you don’t hear your head breaking open like an egg. Only the hot, pounding feeling on the back of your head. Black spots come back to dot your vision, stealing the sight of the ceiling. Or maybe your eyes are closed.

Can you get up?

The thought alone hurts.

Everything hurts.

You can hear Allio’s tennis shoes against the wooden floorboards, shifting on his feet. He must be waiting for Caspian to call it. And if the fight is over, it means you lose.

You lose.

So, get up.

Your eyes open, stars dot the ceiling. You blink and squint to see better. No, not stars, the ceiling lights. Which form little sparkle shapes as your eyes begin to focus, adjust.

Get up.

You turn, your hot, sticky skin pressing to the floor. It sends aches and pains through your body, your muscles in your legs pulse, letting you know that they’ve had enough. It’s a good thing that they’re not in charge. You are. And this is not over with.

Get up.

Your skin slowly peels away from the polished wood, leaving a faint stinging sensation behind. It’s hardly noticeable, a needle in a haystack, considering you’ve collected an impressive worth of injuries in just one fight.

Get up.

“She’s up--” Caspian starts, once you’re on your feet, hunched over and trying to build enough confidence to stand straight. It’ll hurt too badly. And you’ve run out of time, you took too long to get up. Caspian thinks it’s over.

It’s not over until you win.

You take one step, and then another, testing the waters. Every step you take, sends a jolt through your body that always ends up at the back of your head. Your skull is not broken. You can keep moving.

This is the opening you wanted, after all.

You launch yourself right at Allio’s torso since he’s distracted, wrapping your arms around him for added effort. There’s shooting pains through your nose since it’s pressed up against his body. You pull away before he hits the ground, hard. And before he can move, you’re scrambling on top of him.

Your knuckles are not broken.

You wind your arm back, eyes locked on his nose.

They just hurt.

You drive your fist into his face. And when it doesn’t start to bleed, you punch him again. And again. “I’ll never look the same.” you snarl through your teeth, “So why should you?”

You switch hands, leaning all of your body weight into it. He’s bleeding now, there’s blood running out of his nose and down the sides of his face. His blood mixes in with yours, which coats your knuckles and fingers. If he’s going to target your weak spots, it’s only fair you give him a couple of his own.

You miss the fact that he gets his right hand back, not missing the chance for retaliation. All you can feel is your head jerk to the left hard enough for your neck to crack. You slide across the floor, skin burning along the way. You unscrew your teeth from each other, gasping.

Allio has drawn himself to his feet. Through the tunnel vision, you can see that his face is swollen. Blood is dripping off his chin. You sneer a laugh, which fizzles into coughs, your lungs not being able to support your brief moment of victory. Allio doesn’t look like he did this morning, and he won’t look like himself for a while.

He doesn’t like the fact that you can laugh at him. You can barely decipher the fact that his face twists in anger. He heads towards you, foot drawing back like he’s going to kick a ball to send it across the field. You brace your body for the impact, smile fading.

A scream draws from your throat as the kick lands. You squeeze your eyes hand enough to see vivid patterns dance across the back of your eyelids. Pain so bright and black and white that you can finally understand why Candor doesn’t believe in grey areas.

“The fight is over!” The voice is drowned, underwater and floating away.

You fade into the sea of darkness.

And think: is this how dad felt when he faded too?

--

It wasn’t until after dinner, did you leave the medical ward last night. You would have attended dinner at the actual dining hall, but the woman working in the unit gave you a plate and was there to help if you needed it. Plus, you got a little taste of Finnick’s thoughts after your loss, and you decided that you’d much rather spend the evening alone.

And you did. 

Cleo, the doctor-nurse, let you go after you showed her you could get up and move without falling. Apparently, Ossie had tried to do the exact same thing the night she hit her head. She crumpled a couple of steps in, and almost made her head injury worse. And since you had been dropped on your head too…

You’re fine, though. The injuries that you got from Allio’s fight are painful, of course, but they’re not anything totally awful. Cleo thinks that your chest and stomach will bruise, thanks to Allio’s punch. Your jaw is sore, so she wants you to eat soft foods and ice it as much as possible. As for your knuckles, they’re heavily bruised, not broken. Cleo tried to set your nose as straight as possible, but you’ll need a cosmetic procedure to get it back to the way it was. 

You had a lot of time to sit and wallow in your loss in the medical ward, but the tightness in your throat wasn’t nearly as bad as it was until you left. You wandered in the dark for a while, taking deep breaths. You ended up at the railing that blocks you from wandering into the chasm. And you stayed there until you felt better.

Even though there are no real bodies of water inside of the walls—with the exception of the swamp, but that has no water in it anymore—the sound of the rushing river below you was strangely familiar. And each time the water would crash against the jagged rocks, fresh air would be coughed up into your face. It lessened the headache.

And left you alone to think without any disruptions.

By the time you made it back to the dormitory, the announcement had already been made; there would be no training today. Capsian was just leaving the room when you got there, and he passed by you quietly at first. But he was halfway down the hallway when his words echoed off the walls, “Glad to see you’re on your feet, (Y/n).”

You didn’t say anything back.

On the first day, Laurel said that there would be a few breaks from fighting. Today is one of those days. When Finnick and Thyme had explained it to you, they didn’t say what you’d be doing exactly. Only that you all had to meet Laurel at the tracks by eight fifteen and not to be late. You have a feeling that they didn’t know what you’ll be doing today, either.

The only person that seemed to be upset last night over the break, was Finnick. Everyone else has something to complain about, not going unharmed in all the fights they’ve taken place in. You’re one of them, yesterday’s pain has settled into your bones, making itself right at home. Every move you make, you’re reminded of your loss. Which wouldn’t be that bad, but again, you have Finnick at your side. And the only thing that’s on his mind lately, is the streak.

With yesterday's loss, it means that he is the sole survivor of the streak. With his perfect gun aim, and the fact that he hasn’t lost a fight yet. You’d say something to him, if it weren’t for the fact that you have two friends total at the moment, Finnick and Thyme. Normally, you can handle Finnick being mad at you, because you had other people to talk to in Abnegation. But Thyme is more on Finnick’s side than yours, Ossie and Amos aren’t technically your friends, and your relationship with the other three is pretty much established. 

For now, you have to bite your tongue and bear it. But you wonder how long Finnick will go unchecked for. Until you finally snap and shove back. You can handle the teasing, but it’s like holding a glass of water for a long period of time. It doesn’t start off heavy, it ends up that way.

You guess that it’s partially your fault, because you’re giving him ammunition. If you want it to stop, you need to win the next two fights, and then do better than him at the last two stages of initiation. In theory, it sounds easy, but you don’t know what the second and third stages have to offer. Plus, you’re damaged goods at the moment, what are the chances you can win the fights?

As long as you try. Trying is good enough.

A shoe scuffs against the floor, sending a sharp squeak through the air.

You don’t have to lay here anymore.

You could hardly roll over last night because of your stomach. And after a couple of times, you stopped and laid on your back until your muscles finally relaxed and you couldn’t feel the pain anymore. You got a couple hours of sleep in. 

It was ruined when you jolted awake around midnight, a scream rising in your throat, your bed sheets soaked in sweat, and a very hot feeling spreading over your body. It took a while for you to finally feel normal and calmed down, and by then you were awake. The memory of the nightmare that you had just been submerged in, was at the front of your mind. 

You stopped having nightmares last year, you had finally begun to feel comfortable in your own house again. You guess you went and ruined your streak when you moved here, to a faction that would make your mother feel shame, if she were still alive.

Surprisingly, that was not the main story of the dream. Instead, you dreamt that you were back inside of the aptitude test, with all the knowledge that would come after. That every choice you would make, would conflict and result in Laurel telling you that you’re Divergent and you could be murdered because of it. But you still went through with your original answers, because you didn’t want to end up in Abnegation. You thought, for a second, that being three things was better than one.

When you came out of the test, the room was full. Men and women dressed in Dauntless black, an army sent just for you, with their guns pointed at your chest.

Standing at the front was Caspian. “Divergence is against the law.” He droned, “You are not welcome here.”

And just before they all fired, he told you that you were another stain on your family’s lineage.

The word that has stuck with you for hours is another. Not the fact that you could feel every bullet they fired pierce your body. Or feeling yourself slip away in the sinful room of mirrors. It was the fact that you were not the only anomaly in the family. The only other person that has moved away—moved on from Abnegation is Mox. Which made many people turn a brief eye to your family, watching him go.

But it doesn’t fit right. That is not the puzzle piece that needs to be there. It’s only a supplement. You know this.

Two weeks before the aptitude test, there was a unit in your science class that was about the human brain. The lesson was brief, but your teacher mentioned how dreams come from the subconscious mind, before moving onto another section. She’d only mentioned it in passing, but it has stuck with you ever since.

To you, this idea seems wrong because you don’t think of Mox as a stain. That thought is not yours to begin with. And yet, even though you’ve been awake for hours, you still haven’t found a better conclusion. 

You’re starting to think that there isn’t one.

You suck in a deep breath through your nose, reaching over to the side of the bunk to help pull you into a sitting position. You grit your teeth tightly, sure that they’re going to break, but you’re determined not to make a sound. You let out a low groan anyway, which dissipates into a sigh of relief as soon as you’re sitting upright.

Leaning back on one hand, you use the other to lift the end of your shirt to see your stomach properly. Right in the middle, sits deep shades of purple and red. You press your lips together, gently running your fingers over the skin like a ghost. It’s tender, beginning the stages of healing. 

You let your shirt drop, turning towards the end of the bed, hanging your feet over the side. You remember what it took to get you up here. There’s no ladder, because that would be far too easy. Tears had sprung in the corners of your eyes, you were forced to wriggle your way up on your stomach, hands clamped tight against the metal bars.

Once you got up here last night, you weren’t allowed to get back down. Not that you really wanted to, what you really wanted to do was sleep it off. Obviously that didn’t pan out too well, either.

You can see Thyme from the top of the bunk. She’s still sleeping, tangled in her blanket, shirt collar desperate to choke her. Half her body is turned one way, the other half twisted away. Her head isn’t turned toward you.

You’re pretty sure that Finnick is still asleep beneath you, but you can’t exactly tell without accidentally falling off the bed. And if you’re going to get off by yourself, you think that you’ll do it on your own time. Speaking of which, it looks like you only have forty-five minutes to get ready.

That should be enough time, right?

The only other people awake inside of the room are Eytelle, Ossie and Amos. Eytelle disappears into the bathroom, clutching her clothes to her chest. Ossie is already dressed, pulling on her hiking shoes, yanking the laces as tight as possible. And Amos is… sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor.

Trink and Allio are across the room, both turned away from you. If you get off the bed, the only people that are here to witness your pain are the two people that you wouldn’t mind seeing. Apart from Finnick and Thyme, of course. You’d ask for help, but the idea of Finnick’s teasing appears in your mind, setting your destiny in stone.

You suck in a deep breath through your nose, moving your ankles around in circles. Your calves are tight, they feel like you’ve had twenty leg cramps in a row. They’re going to be uncooperative today, which is the last thing that you’re going to need. Especially if you’re supposed to be jumping in and out of trains today.

The thought of missing the jump on the roof occurs to you, and you can’t help the shiver that runs through your body.

You decide that you’ll try and lower yourself down, instead of just scooting off the edge and jumping. Since your calves clearly can’t handle it right now. You’re careful to lean on your wrists and not your hands, turning yourself around. You’re glad that you’re starting to develop more upper body strength, otherwise this would be impossible.

Your body begins to ache, arms shaking the further you go down. You feel Finnick’s mattress dip beneath your bare feet. Your other foot touches his blanket, and after that, you just step down. The cement is freezing cold, making your toes curl.

You spare a glance at Finnick before you get moving, and you start to glare once you realize that he’s awake. He has a cheeky grin on his face, raising his eyebrows, “I see you’re feeling great this morning.”

“I’m not.” you say back, “Maybe I should’ve stepped on your face like I originally planned to.”

Finnick lets out a laugh, getting up and off his bed. Ever since the two of you left Abnegation five days ago, he’s begun to stand at his full height. It makes him look like he belongs inside of Dauntless. There’s tall people in Abnegation, of course, but none of them are as tall as Finnick.

You have to look up at an angle to see his face. He stretches his arms above his head, shirt riding up, he yawns, and then groans. Unlike you, he doesn’t have any concern for the other people sleeping in the room. 

You gather your clothes, throwing them over your arm. Finnick has no shame and decides to change right where he is. A part of you wishes that you could do the same, but your body is more valuable than his, to an extent. You shake Thyme awake, watching her squint and blink and wake up.

“Seven-forty.” you say.

She hums and rolls over. You head toward the bathroom, which is just as an open room as the dorm. Except, there’s stalls and the showers have curtains. You step inside one of them, and try to wash yourself as fast as possible. It hurts to bend down, tears appear in the corner of your eyes and run down your face. By the time you’re done showering, there’s fifteen minutes left.

You get dressed and brush your teeth. Finnick and Thyme work together to help you tie your shoes, since you can’t bend down to do it yourself. You thank them both, and after that, you have to get to the train. There’s no way you’ll make it to breakfast, climb the Pit and make it to the train in time.

“How about I get us breakfast then?” Finnick’s got a grin, jumping at the opportunity. 

Thyme gives him a look, “We’re not covering your ass if you’re late.”

“No problem, I’ll see you there.”

He takes off, leaving just you and Thyme. The two of you head up the stairs of the Pit to the glass building above it, in silence. Your thighs begin to complain at the strain, in perfect harmony with your calves. When you pass through the exit doors, you’re able to see that it’s only Amos up here, arms wrapped around himself in a hug. He looks over slightly to see you two, and then he looks away. 

“Where’d you go yesterday?” Thyme asks.

She’s still rubbing sleep from her eyes, there’s dark bags forming. She hasn’t been getting much sleep, it looks like. But you think that goes for everyone here. No one has slept soundly since the Choosing Ceremony. It just got worse as soon as the fighting began, for reasons you discovered last night.

“Hmm?” you hum, looking at her.

“We went to visit you in the medical unit, and you weren’t there.”

“Oh.” you say, looking to where the train will be coming. Behind you, you can hear the doors of the building open again. Judging by the amount of voices, it’s Trink, Allio and Eytelle. “I needed a minute to myself, that’s all.”

An arm slams into yours from behind, knocking you into Thyme. It’s Trink, who gives you a smug side-eye when she walks past. You grit your teeth, hands balling into fists. 

“Here.” a voice says, you jump and look over to see it’s Finnick, handing you the toast he got from the dining hall. It’s still hot, he must have ran here to give it to you before it cooled. You go to thank him, but he’s distracted. His eyes are on the back of Trink’s head.

Two words burn like fire on the tip of your tongue, “Do it.” you encourage.

It’s all it takes. Finnick presses the six squares of toast into your hands before he starts over toward Trink.

“Why would you say that?” Thyme hisses in a whisper, eyebrows pushed in. She’s worried for them. Typical Amity behavior, especially since she’s not for the fighting to settle differences.

“Because Finnick doesn’t negotiate.”

You don’t include the fact that, if it weren’t for your current condition, you’d be helping him.

Finnick spins Trink around, her mouth falls open. Her two idiot Candor friends turn around too, only halfway. By then, Finnick punched Trink straight across her mouth, whipping her head to the side. She loses her balance, hand flying to touch her teeth to make sure they’re still in place. When she opens her mouth, her gums are bleeding, white teeth turned red.

Allio goes to ask her if she’s okay, and Eytelle puffs up as if she’s actually going to do something about it. The moment that Finnick matches her energy, her height, and how his hands curl into fists, she backs off. 

“Next time, I’ll break your fucking nose.” Finnick snaps, looking directly at Trink, “Or better yet, I’ll hold you down so she can.”

Finnick comes back over, face flushed a shade of red. He grabs his breakfast from your hands, and Thyme does the same. The doors open behind you, Laurel and Ossie come out. Laurel has her hair in a ponytail today, sleek and straight. She walks right past Trink, Eytelle and Allio. And stops a few feet away, sticking her hands into her ironed business pants. 

There’s a moment of baffled silence on Trink’s part, and then she bursts, “You’re not going to ask what happened?”

Laurel looks over, straight-faced, “What happened?” she asks lamely.

It’s good enough for her, “He punched me!”

Laurel stares for a moment, probably deciding if Trink’s behavior is worth feeding into. She doesn’t look at Finnick when she starts towards Trink. Laurel crouches down in front of her, being careful that pants don’t touch the grass beneath her. “You will have a lot more to worry about if you continue to tell on your fellow initiates. You are displaying signs of cowardice. I am not your mother, handle the situation yourself.” Laurel stands, glances at Finnick, and says; “From now on, no fighting outside of the ring. Once you’re a member, the rule lifts.”

She goes back to where she was standing before.

If Trink wants to say anything else, she can’t. You finish your piece of toast, brushing the crumbs off your hands and shirt just as the train comes in. The horn blares, letting you know that it’s coming. Laurel stands close enough for the wind to blow her clothes flat against her body.

Amos is the first to pull himself inside of the train, disappearing off to the left side. You jog with the train, remembering the high feeling the day of the Choosing Ceremony. How you had pulled yourself inside of the train like you’ve done it every day of your life. 

Now you’re struggling to push past the violent burning feeling in your calves and thighs with each step you take. You wonder, is this progress, or are you falling behind?

You grab a hold of the handle, grit your teeth and hold your breath, yanking yourself in. Immediately, there’s an achy feeling in your chest and stomach. You massage your chest, not dumb enough to go lower. Finnick pulls himself in next, almost effortlessly. He slams his head against the doorway of the train, curses leaving his mouth. You burst into laughter, you can hear Amos chuckling behind you.

Finnick rubs his forehead, face twisted. He moves inward, allowing Thyme to come in next, “Think it’ll bruise?”

“You didn’t hit yourself that hard!” you shout over the wind.

He gives you a grin.

Laurel comes in next, standing off to the side and judges every person who comes in next. Eytelle, Allio, Ossie and then Trink. Ossie comes to the left side, where you are. As for the other three, they take the right side, huddled up like they normally are. Laurel presses herself against the wall, crosses her arms, and stares out of the door.

You still don’t know what you’re doing today.

The train brings you all the way to the far fence. It brakes too harshly, making Finnick jerk. You grab a hold of his arm before he knocks into Laurel and gets himself into any more trouble. Finnick might be tall and an experienced fighter, but sometimes he’s as prepared as a baby deer. When you’d ride home together on the bus in Abnegation, he’d have to hold onto a pole, not the overhead handles. It’s because the poles are steadier.

The train comes to a complete stop underneath an awning. Laurel exits firsts, jumping down gracefully and walking a couple of steps before she stops and waits. You move out next with Finnick. This time, he makes sure to duck dramatically so that he doesn’t hit his head again. 

There’s a chain-link fence with barbed wire, a green field on the other side of it, with hills that stretch as far as your eyes can see. Dotted around are a mix of healthy green trees, and trees that are far too dead to be revived.

On the other side of the fence is the Dauntless guards, wearing black and carrying guns, patrolling what may be out there. Only recently, in the past couple of years, have the Dauntless begun to patrol the outside of the fence. As far as anyone knows, there isn’t a threat. Only more Amity farms that couldn’t fit inside of the fence. Before, the Dauntless had been controlling what went on inside of the factionless communities. But Abnegation argued that they don’t need Dauntless with guns. They need food, water, places to live. They need to be rehomed and given a new opportunity.

“Follow me!” Laurel shouts, once everyone is off the train. The eight of you wander behind her, “Today, you’re doing volunteer work, carrying heavy shit that the Amity and Abnegation can’t.” she leads you to a gate, with a wide, cracked road that leads back to the city, “And I’ll give you some insight on the jobs you’ll be eligible for if you don’t rank high in initiation.”

She nods at one of the guards on the other side, “If you don’t rank in the top five at the end of initiation, you’ll end up here. Once you’re a fence guard, there’s not much room for advancement. If you get the job, you probably won’t find a way to squirm out of it. Most who work here, say that it’s not as bad as it seems. Isn’t that right?”

She has a smile on her face when she looks at one of the guards. They give her an amused expression, and then eyes over you guys. 

“Don’t mind them, they’re just shy. The most you’ll get out of the job is the potential to go beyond the Amity farms, but that’s the extent of it.” she stops, turning to face you guys.

“What else?” Trink asks, she’s standing behind you.

“Well, you’ve seen the shops, tattoo and piercing parlors. If you’ve visited the medical ward, you can be a doctor, or a lunch lady. We have security cameras all over the Dauntless compound, so you could make that your day job.” she pauses for a moment, “Oh, and police officers. But that’s about it.

“If you rank in the top five, you get your pick of the litter. Or maybe, the litter will pick you, in some cases.” Laurel doesn’t elaborate for a moment, and then she smiles, “Did you know that they’re looking for a temporary, fourth position for leadership? If the person fits the requirements for leadership, they’ll replace one of the leaders we have now.”

“Is that what you’re going for?” Thyme asks.

Her face twists, raising her eyebrows, “It’s not a job for the fainthearted. And I’ve already got my job. Who do you think designs all the clothes you’re wearing?”

You remember the mannequin on her arm. You originally thought it was her fear, as you’ve come to realize that most of the Dauntless will get their fear somewhere on their body. But maybe it’s a passion thing, instead.

A horn blares, making Laurel raise her head, “The next train is here. Let’s get this over with, so we can get back to the headquarters.”

--

ANTERIC IS A SPIN-OFF DIVERGENT AU //MASTERLIST//

add yourself to the TAGLIST

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[ilguna]

Anteric - Chapter Two (f.o)

summary: secrets have more worth than you gave them credit for.

warnings; swearing, PALM CUTTING, DEATH.

wc; 10.4k

NOTES; I give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

The bus you take to the Choosing Ceremony is full of people from Abnegation. Grey shirts and cardigans. Grey slacks and skirts. You spend the entire time staring at the top of your shoes, trying to lose yourself like everyone else in here can. Sometimes, you manage to do it. Today it’s harder. You still have a decision to make, since it wasn’t made for you yesterday. 

When the bus stops, everyone slowly files out. Starting with the front, to the middle, to the back. Reed carries Alyssum in his arms, you walk next to him, following his steps to where he wants to go. The Hub is the tallest building in the city, stretching far beyond the clouds. You shield your eyes from the sun and stare up at it while you wait for Reed to start to go inside.

Outside of the building stands a group of Candor, talking amongst themselves. Cigarettes are between their fingers, they breathe smoke after a long breath in. You remember the smell of tobacco on the bus man’s breath when he got in your face. You also remember that was your first act of defiance yesterday, as the second was directly challenging Reed.

You wish you could say that you regret asking him that question, but you don’t.

Reed starts up the front steps, you walk behind him. With the amount of people in the Hub today for the Choosing Ceremony, the elevators are hard to get onto. They’re all crowded and take too long, since the ceremony will be taking place twenty stories up. Reed readjusts Alyssum in his arms before he starts towards the stairwell. You don’t complain.

It starts off with only the three of you, but it doubles multiple times the further you go up. Reed has just unintentionally started a trend amongst you all. If you hadn’t gone up the stairwell, you’re sure that you would have all waited in a pack at the elevators, waiting for all the other factions to get on before you.

A man with cropped blonde hair notices that Reed is carrying Alyssum, so he hurries up before you guys so that he can hold open the door for everyone that passes through. You and Reed thank him on your way through. Inside of the ceremony room, the factions are arranged in concentric circles. On the very outside edge is where you’ll be standing with the rest of the sixteen year-olds from every faction. Since you’re not a member of any faction just yet, you can’t sit with them. Not even the Abnegation, who you grew up with.

What you choose today will make you an initiate, and if you complete initiation, you’ll become a member. Some factions are harder than others to get into. While you’re sure that Dauntless or Erudite is difficult, Amity and Abnegation don’t often have initiates that fail. It’s easy to give yourself away for others. Supposedly.

You, and every other teenager in here, arrange yourselves in alphabetical order according to your last names. You stand between a Candor boy dressed in a black and white suit, and a Dauntless girl dressed in pure black, with a piercing in her nose. Finnick is further down, since his name starts with an O. You will get to decide before he does.

In the next circle are rows of chairs for your families. You watch as Reed carries Alyssum to a single chair, and sets her in his lap. She doesn’t fuss much, only plays with the sleeve on her loose shirt. It’s a little too big for her, but all clothes in Abnegation are meant to be loose-fitting to not draw attention to yourself. 

Since the responsibility of conducting the ceremony rotates every year, it falls on Candor this year. Their leader is a tall man, with dark hair and haunting grey eyes. His name is Haymitch Abernathy, and he stands at the podium that fits snugly between Erudite and Dauntless. He doesn’t smile.

The room falls into silence as soon as all the chairs have been filled. You clench your fists at your sides, staring right ahead at Reed and Alyssum as Haymitch gives the opening speech. 

His voice is monotone, with very little hints of actual emotion, “Welcome to the Choosing Ceremony, the day we honor the democratic philosophy given to us by our ancestors. Let us say thank you for allowing them to give us the idea that every man has a right to choose his own way in the world.”

A few people mutter out a thanks. Your lips are sealed tight, normally the decision is already made for you because of the aptitude test. But unlike everyone else in this room, you truly are given a right to choose where you want to go. Abnegation, Dauntless and Erudite all have their arms out for you. Each one of them holds a different opportunity, a different lifestyle. But only one of them is familiar.

“Our children are now sixteen. They are on the edge of adulthood, which means that it’s now time for them to decide what kind of people they will decide to be. A long time ago, our ancestors realized that politics, religion, race and nationalism are not to blame for the awful world. Rather, they determined that it was the fault of a human’s nature to go towards evil. 

“Since evil presents itself in many different ways, factions were formed to eradicate those qualities they believed responsible for the world’s disarray.” Haymitch pauses for a moment, “Those who blamed aggression formed Amity.” 

Amity, the faction that was ruled out first because you chose the knife over the cheese. The knife you didn’t even end up using because you left it behind to save the girl from the dog. How can you be Abnegation and not Amity too? Selflessness and peace go hand in hand, right? Right?

The Amity share smiles. They are dressed in red or yellow, of all different shades. Amity is seen as loving, care-free and kind. Three years ago, you lost your brother to this faction, because Abnegation wasn’t good enough. Somewhere, Mox is dressed in red and yellow, singing songs and picking apples out of trees. He is not thinking about you.

“Those who blamed ignorance became the Erudite.”

Erudite sit together, at least one article of clothing that they wear is blue. You were told a while ago, by someone who you can’t remember the name of, that it’s because blue is supposed to calm the mind. You can’t think rationally if you’re in a constant state of panic and worry. Also, most of them wear glasses, as they’re supposed to make you feel smarter.

If you choose a faction other than Abnegation this afternoon, it will not be Erudite. You switching in the first place will already be a harsh slap to the face. You will not make it worse by choosing the one faction that has their gun pointed at Abnegation. Erudite was never an option.

“Those who blamed duplicity created Candor.” Haymitch gives a ghost of a smile.

The Candor are the ones who don’t lie. They’re also able to pick out liars easily, which makes it frustrating in class when they blurt it out. They don’t believe in holding secrets, as it’s too close to a lie. They wear black and white suits and dresses. They’re also the people you saw before you came into the Hub, smoking in front of the building. 

“Those who blamed selfishness made Abnegation.”

Your home. You have grown up in this faction for sixteen years, and you have been selfishly debating whether or not you’ll stay. You’re supposed to be able to forget yourself in this lifestyle, but all it’s done is magnify the things you hate about it. Under different circumstances, you think that you would want to stay more. But after everything that’s happened…

“And those who blamed cowardice were the Dauntless.”

Dauntless is dressed in black, tight-fitting clothes. They have piercings, bright-colored hair, and tattoos. They are loud, and reckless and a lot of people inside of Abnegation don’t like them. To switch to their faction would flip your entire life upside-down. Your current life is not like theirs. You would have to go from forgetting about yourself, to thinking about who you are all the time.

But don’t you do that already?

“Working together, these five factions have lived in peace for decades. Each faction is important, as they contribute to a different sector of society. The Abnegation gives us selfless leaders in our government. Candor has provided us with trustworthy leaders in law. Erudite has supplied us with intelligent teachers and outstanding technology. Amity has given us understanding counselors and caretakers. Dauntless provides us with protection from threats both inside and outside of the walls.

“But the possibilities of each faction do not end there. We give one another more support than we can put into words. In our factions, we find meaning, we find purpose, we find life.” Haymitch pauses for a moment again, “A life without factions, is a life we would not survive in.”

The last sentence is a direct attack to the factionless, who are supposed to be savages because they live their life without a purpose. They don’t contribute to society in large ways, like the factions. But that doesn’t mean that they don’t at least help. You appreciate them, for they are the janitors, they are the garbage truck drivers, and they are the construction workers. Without them, the city would not be clean and well-functioning.

“This day marks a happy occasion, in which we receive our new initiates, who will work with us toward a better society, and a better world.” Haymitch finishes, signifying the loud applause sounding from the families.

Haymitch reads the names one at a time. A sixteen year-old will step out of the line and walk toward the middle of the circles, where five metal bowls lay. Each one has an element that represents the faction. In Abnegation, there are grey stones. Amity has soil. Candor has broken glass. Dauntless has lit coals. And Erudite has water.

The first to choose is a boy from Candor, who stays with Candor. He makes his way up, and stands behind the faction section. Haymitch reads a new name, the next person comes out of the line, he offers a new knife, they cut their hand, and choose their home faction.

You recognize a few from school. Mac Andas, a boy from Amity, is wearing dark red clothing. He smoothly walks to the middle of the room, cuts his hand and doesn’t hesitate to hold it over the soil. He will be staying in Amity. Amity shares smiles, and a few touch his arm on his way up to stand behind them.

The first to switch factions is an Erudite girl, she holds her hand over Candor. Her new faction shifts in anticipation, excited for their first transfer. You aren’t surprised that she’s switching to Candor. In a way, you’d like to think that brutality of telling truth and the striving for knowledge against all odds go hand in hand. Even if it means to disturb the peace.

Erudite doesn’t look happy, but they don’t voice their opinions, only cast glares toward the Candor section. Their eyes are not yet directed toward the girl, but they will be eventually. Switching factions alone is enough to consider her a traitor.

With the Erudite girl being the first to switch factions, others slowly find the same courage to do what they want, too. Other factions welcome in new initiates, new faces and fresh blood. A girl from Amity named Verda switches to Abnegation. You feel a little warm inside, seeing the way she lights up. She’s happy with her decision, will you be able to feel the same?

A few more names, and suddenly you’re coming up fast. A tight feeling begins in your throat, you clench and unclench your hands. It’s the Candor boy and then you. His name is called, he goes down the steps to the middle. He cuts his hand, and then holds his hand over Erudite. An even trade to balance out the fact that the Erudite girl had went to Candor. Smart nods come from his new faction.

“(Y/n) Gallows.” Haymitch says, his eyes land on you next. 

You take a deep breath to steady yourself, and then you head down the steps. In your head, there’s a loud debate going on. You need to hurry up and choose. All factions have pros and cons, you’re overthinking it now. 

It’s not that serious.

Except for the fact that it is. You will not be able to choose again. If you fail initiation, you will land yourself factionless. Is that what you really want? Do you want to live your life driving buses and cleaning up trash off the road, not knowing when your next meal will be? You know you’re strong, but you’re not that strong. The only thing that takes more courage than switching factions, is leaving a faction because your hand was forced. It happens more often than you like.

Not to mention, one of those factionless degenerates is the reason why you lost your second parent.

You stand in front of the large metal bowls, eyes quickly sweeping over them. They’re all stained in some way by now. The Erudite water has gone from clear to a dark pink and the Candor glass is now reflecting red. The only bowls that will not show a difference are Dauntless and Amity. You haven’t gotten to see Abnegation just yet.

Haymitch offers you the knife. It will only be used once, and it will only be used by you. Haymitch gives you a curt nod, and you are left to decide by yourself. The knife you hold now is nowhere near as heavy as the one you held during the aptitude test. This one is lighter, and sharper.

You bring the blade to your palm, carefully dragging it across. You grit your teeth tightly as you watch the rich colored blood spring to life, outside of your body. You stare at it for a second, and then you shift your body to the left, where the Abnegation and Dauntless bowls are waiting for you. You are not cut out for Amity, you are too mean. You are not cut out for Candor, you are a liar. And you are too smart for Erudite to have.

The blood begins to pool in your hand the more you wait. You don’t know how Mox did it. How he so effortlessly chose Amity. He came down here easily, cut his palm and held it over Amity as if his mind had been made up for years. He didn’t think twice, he didn’t hesitate. He just went.

This decision is not so easy for you. 

You’ve figured this much: you want to leave. As much as you want to stay, you don’t think you can. And it’s not because of Reed and what happened last night. There have been plenty of times where you’ve straddled the border of pushing it. If you stay here in Abnegation, it means that you’ll be subjecting yourself to getting to know the people who once knew your parents. You will see their pity, and they will tell you what your parents once did when they were alive.

You know this because it’s already happened. Naida still talks about your mother as if you’ll find comfort in it. But really, it digs at you. She uses the same knife, the same look, the same words. It’s having the opposite effect than what she’s intending to do. Both of your parents fell in love with this faction, and they died inside of it. If you leave, you get to start over. 

But it also means that you will be starting over without a family. Reed and Alyssum are all you have left. Mox left years ago, you haven’t seen him since the day of the Choosing Ceremony, and Reed never brought you to see him on Visiting Day. If he could do it to Mox, who is only two years younger than him, he will do it to you too. Reed doesn’t change. 

He needs help with Alyssum. He can’t take care of her alone, he’s already pushing it with the next door neighbors. Alyssum is only three, too. She needs an older sister, someone she can relate to, to look up to. If you leave, she’ll never see you again. All the memories she’ll have of you will be hazy. And Reed won’t be much help, because he won’t speak of you. 

Reed will cut you off as if he didn’t just take care of you for the past three years. You know this because it’s the exact thing that he did to Mox. Mox is never spoken of, not even when the two of you are alone. And he left only a couple of months after Alyssum was born, a couple of weeks after your father died. You were already hurt enough by the fact that you lost two parents, and with Mox gone, it made it all worse.

Reed would rather choose silence than remembrance.

By the time Alyssum will get to choose a faction of her own, she won’t know Mox, and she won’t know you. You and your older brother will just be two faces on the old family photos. The only person that she’ll know is Reed. Not mom, not dad, not Mox, not you. You will hold the memory of her forever, and she won’t even have something to hold onto besides dusty family photos.

If you can’t do it for yourself, then you have to do it for her.

You bring your hand near Abnegation, not quite tipping your hand over the stones just yet. You can see the drops of blood on them from teens who have come from you. All of them transferred without hesitation, they had their minds made up. And you do too, so why aren’t you spilling your blood over the stones?

One reason. You’re waiting for one good reason why you shouldn’t stay. That’s all it will take.

You’ve been in Abnegation your whole life.

You have done nothing but follow the rules. You wore their clothes, you never talked out of line, you gave up your seat on the bus, you walked up the stairs, you never looked at yourself in the mirror. You did the dishes, did your homework, made dinner, never got into trouble. You have never once uttered a complaint even when circumstances were bad. You have been grateful.

You have always put everyone first before you. You have lost yourself in your surroundings too many times. So many times that it took a long time to put yourself back together. You have done more than your part in Abnegation. Don’t you think it’s time to finally be selfish?

Abnegation is home--do you really want to start over as much as you say you do? You know what to expect here. You know that the initiation is volunteering. You know that you will not fail it. With Dauntless, they have people that fail all the time. You’re more likely to end up factionless. You will join your father’s murderer. Do you like that chance? You don’t know Dauntless as much as you think you do. You don’t even know anyone that’s there. You will have no one to lean on for help.

Finnick will leave you behind.

And you’ll only have your brother and family friends to lean on.

Think, is that what you really want? Be honest.

No, it’s not.

What about Reed? He’ll be mad. And he’s the only family that you have left. If you don’t have him, you won’t have anyone…

What are the chances that Finnick chooses Dauntless?

A big chance, actually. Finnick won’t choose Amity, Erudite or Abnegation. Which leaves Candor and Dauntless, but Finnick is not known for being honest. And Finnick is Finnick.

You think… you think that it will be an even trade. Reed for Finnick. Reed and Alyssum for Finnick.

You hope that you aren’t choosing wrong.

You hang your hand over the Dauntless flames, feeling the heat lick at the back of your hand. You have spent your entire life being selfless in Abnegation. You know how to help everyone else, a trait that will be with you for the rest of your life, even if you don’t stay with Abnegation. You think that will be good enough.

It’s time to start focusing on yourself.

You let out the air you’re holding, turning your palm downward. You watch and listen as your blood sizzles over the hot coals. The sound is satisfying, the only noise that fills the room for a beat or two. And then the Dauntless section explodes into cheers, welcoming you in their classic fashion. With how loud they are, you can’t help the smile that creeps its way onto your face. 

You bow your head slightly, face feeling hot, but there is definitely a feeling of wholeness in your chest. You head up the steps to stand behind the Dauntless faction with the rest of the initiates. You can feel hands on your arm, pats on your back, there’s whooping. By the time you’ve made it to the top, you can confidently stand there with a smile. However, you are not confident enough to see the look on Reed’s face. This afternoon, you will follow in Moxs’ footsteps of a silent transfer. A clean cut.

The ceremony continues, still going down the alphabet. Most of the people who join Dauntless now, are Dauntless-born. Only a few from other factions aren’t. A girl from Candor, a bunch of boys and girls from Dauntless, a girl from Erudite. With every person that leaves the line, the closer Finnick’s turn draws. You feel nervous for him.

When his name is called, he moves down the steps without hesitation, almost like he glides down. Haymitch offers him the knife, and he takes it, turning his back to Candor, Amity and Erudite. The only two factions that he’s facing are Dauntless and Abnegation. If there’s one thing that you know for sure today, it’s that he won’t be choosing Abnegation.

You can see him in Dauntless black.

Finnick lifts the knife, drags the silver blade across his hand, and patiently waits for the blood to build up. To anyone else, this might look like he’s stalling. To you, it seems like he’s trying to make it as excruciating as possible for the people in Abnegation. Hardly anyone ever transfers because Abnegation is supposed to be a good faction. But they have already lost one of their children. In a moment, they’re about to lose another.

A cheeky smile appears on his face just before his hand flies over the Dauntless flames. He shakes his hand down, the blood smearing down his hand, landing straight onto the coals.

Dauntless explodes again, whistles filling the air. Finnick turns towards the stairs, heading up them at his own pace. When you look to check Abnegation’s reactions, you’re careful to avoid your family, and you make it brief. The most you can see is a few dirty looks towards Dauntless, as if they’re somehow to blame for this. 

Finnick stops beside you, laughing. You bump his shoulder with yours, using the end of your shirt to clean the blood off your hand, “Why am I not surprised?”

“You didn’t have to switch for me, you know.”

You look at him to see that his eyebrows are raised. You snort, “Don’t worry, I’m doing this for me.”

Half an hour later, the Choosing Ceremony is over. Dauntless leaves first, which means you have to walk past your former faction. Men and women dressed in grey stare forward, at the back of someone else’s head. Inside of this section sits your only family, Reed and Alyssum, who may or may not visit you on Visiting Day. This is your last chance to look to say goodbye, and to keep yourself from falling into temptation’s trap, you turn to give Finnick a smile.

The people leading the Dauntless pack immediately choose the stairs instead of the elevators. You walked up these stairs hours ago with half the intention of staying with your brother and sister. And now, you’re walking down them with your new faction. Your new family. This is how you will leave your old life behind and find comfort in the new.

As soon as you step foot into the stairwell, you break into a sprint to keep with everyone else’s pace. There’s whoops, cheers, shouts and laughter that echoes off the cement walls. The sound of feet pounding on cement stairs join it, like a pack of wild animals. Among the shouting is Finnick’s voice, who seems to have finally found himself. Instead of taking the stairs, he’ll slide down the railing, causing people behind him to do the same. In order not to trip, you pull up the loose fabric of your pants. You watch as Finnick takes your hand, squeezing it tightly as he pulls you along, making sure that you won’t lose each other.

You can hear the sound of the door hitting the wall as the first few Dauntless burst through the exit doorway. Outside, the sun is setting, splashing bright colors of orange, pink and yellow into the sky. After spending hours inside of the warm Choosing Ceremony room, the outside coolness washes over your skin in a refreshing wave.

You have to run to keep up with the Dauntless.

The crowd thins out the further you go. Together, you take over the entire street, blocking a bus’s way. Finnick and you pace yourselves, not allowing the other to fall behind. Every now and then, you’ll share a look with him. The realization never stops hitting. This life won’t be so bad, it’s been less than five minutes and you can already feel yourself lifting higher and higher.

You’re weightless now that the restraints have been lifted off of your shoulders. No wonder why Finnick has been itching for this feeling. You haven’t felt this good in years.

The running makes your calves burn, almost making it hurt to run. Your throat is dry from how much air you suck in to keep going. You follow everyone down the street and around a corner, until you’re all coming to a stop. It’s a momentary break, before the sound of gasping is replaced by the horn of the train, signaling what you’ll have to do next.

You hand slips from Finnick’s. You know what happens next.

A long, single-filed line forms. The lights on the train are flashing, horn blasting to let you know a second time that it’s coming. Every single door is open to allow easy access for you to get inside. The train whirrs past you, flattening your clothes on your body because of the wind.

Group by group, people pull themselves in and disappear into the cars. Only when one is full, does someone stick their head out to let the others know. In no time, it’s only you initiates left. However, the Dauntless-born have been doing this for years, so they too, are able to get in without a worry. Which means that it’s time for the transfers to give it a try. 

And you’re at the front of the line.

You’ve only seen this happen a couple of times. It was always after school, in front of the building while you waited for Finnick. Normally it’s you who’s late to get out there, but on occasion, Finnick found himself held up in a classroom or hallway, waiting for people to get out of his way. If anything, you think that Finnick could do this better than you can. But he’s not at the front, you are.

The last train car is about to come around, so you take off running to keep up with it. This is going to be significantly harder to catch, especially for the people behind you. You have nothing to fall back on if you fail. This could be your first and last test before you find yourself factionless.

Don’t think like that.

The faster you run, the more your legs burn, but it’s a good burn. You hold up your baggy pants with one hand so that you don’t have to worry about tripping over the ends. As you get closer to the train, you remember how the other Dauntless had pulled themselves inside. One step at a time.

You give yourself one last burst, and then you throw yourself to the left, grabbing a hold of the handle with one hand. With the other, you reach up and grab the inside of the doorway. The cut on your hand stings from the sudden use, causing a hiss to rise out of your throat. You arch your back inwards, which is just enough to push you inside.

You stumble a little, catching yourself on the far wall. A laugh rises out of you, a smile appearing on your face. You did it. You turn and head right back to the open car door, looking out to see who’s next. You know that you made it inside by yourself, but it wasn’t easy. Others will need help.

Finnick is running right next to the train. You hold your hand out for him, giving him a wider smile, “Come on, Finnick!”

He jumps, his left hand grabbing the handle, his right grabbing yours. You pull him inside, give him a slight slap on the back, and then you turn to grab the next person. They jump, grab your hand, and get pulled inside. One after another, all of them looking just as dazed as you feel. The only people who don’t take your help are the Erudite girls, who get help from the Candor instead.

You and Finnick take a back corner, away from the door. It’s quieter, and not as dangerous. Next to the door, all it would take is shifting your foot the wrong way and you’d end up falling out. On the other side of the car, stands and sits the group of Candor and Erudite, and the one Amity girl.

“You could’ve just told me you were going to Dauntless!” you throw your arms out, “I mean, it’s not much of a surprise!”

“I wanted it to be dramatic!” Finnick defends, he smiles as he runs a hand through his hair, “What about you? I thought you were staying?”

“I almost did.” you say, and then shrug, “But I couldn’t. I wanted a fresh start of my own.”

“And that’s a good reason.” Finnick says, “You’re sure that Dauntless was the way to go? Not Amity or Erudite or something?”

“Didn’t qualify for either of those. And I knew that you’d come here, so I decided that I’d rather be with you than by myself.” you give him a smile, “Hope you’re ready to put up with me for the rest of your life.”

“I’ve survived so far.” Finnick winks.

--

It’s over half an hour later before you’re finally getting a clue as to what happens next. Unfortunately, in this time, you and Finnick were able to establish a rivalry with the Erudite girls. Mostly because Finnick said that the faction was for assholes a little too loudly when you were talking about what factions you could have gone to instead. And that’s really all it took before the girls were all pissed.

They’re both blonde, but one of them is taller. The taller one has also made friends with two out of four of the Candor initiates too, and the both of them are also extraordinarily tall. The two of you were almost at a disadvantage, but all it took was Finnick straightening out to his full height and rolling up his sleeves to get the point across.

Back home, you’re not allowed to get into physical fights. And you never really had a reason to, it takes a lot to get under your skin. Being Abnegation is to have a target on your back all the time, the Erudite reports just made them shinier. You have to have thick skin if you’re going to survive. This doesn’t mean that you haven’t had it out with someone once. However, like you’ve been saying, there are rulebreakers. And there are also ways to get around it to make sure that you don’t get caught.

Finnick was one of those kids who always found a way. There’s a couple of rules he has to follow, though. The first is to keep away from Candor and Amity, they have this safety blanket that keeps them protected. Candor kids aren’t supposed to lie, therefore there whatever they say automatically has to be true. The Amity are peace keepers, their natural instinct isn’t to fight, it’s to resolve the problem through words or whatever.

The second rule is to make sure that there aren’t witnesses. You take the kid out to some part of town that’s abandoned, oftentime the factionless areas because no one’s going to intervene. And the third rule is not to get hit. At all. It’s hard to claim it was a fight if one person is beat to hell and the other doesn’t have a scratch on them. Also, the feud probably shouldn’t be public knowledge.

Only recently did Finnick begin to get into fights like that, and it’s always with the Erudite kids because they don’t know how to keep their mouths shut. Since he didn’t plan on staying, he didn’t see a need to not fight. Of course, it could always come out later and hurt his family. But why would an Erudite want to admit that they got their ass kicked by someone in Abnegation? It’s almost embarrassing for them.

You’ve had plenty of time to watch and take note of the way Finnick interacts with people. It’s typically nonchalant, but if someone wants to fight, his first instinct will be to match them. To some extent, this must be good survival instincts. To another, Finnick is always itching for a fight. He’ll fit right in with Dauntless.

Needless to say, a fight didn’t break out in this train car. But it’s only a matter of time before one does.

You, Finnick, and a few others gather near the opening of the train car to see what’s going on. You knew that getting off the train would have to include jumping off. You just didn’t know where, you’ve never been out this far. You’ve never ridden the train before at all, actually. 

The train is moving slower now to make it easier for all of you to jump off and not hurt yourselves. You watch as a group of Dauntless adults jump from the train, over a gap, and onto a roof. Most land on their feet, there’s a few that land on their knees, dusting the gravel off. They’re all laughing, sparing glances behind them, at cars like yours to see who’s coming next. 

A sick feeling sprouts in your stomach, throat growing tight. You have to swallow your spit multiple times to get it to loosen up enough to breathe comfortably. You place a shaky hand against the wall so that you can lean out and see how far away the ground is from where you are now.

You grit your teeth, inhaling deeply as you back off.

You’re more than ten stories up, a fall from this height can kill you. All it would take is a slip, or a jump not strong enough to push you to the roof. You lock your knees to keep from collapsing.

“You’re pale.” Finnick says, he’s eyeing your face, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” 

You chose this life. You have to live with it. If you don’t jump onto this roof, you will have failed initiation before it’s even begun. You will be factionless, and you can’t be factionless. But if you do jump and you don’t make it, you’ll die. Death or factionless, which one will be easiest to live with?

You’re overthinking it again.

You force yourself to look out and watch more people jump. The gap is small enough to cross, you know this because all the Dauntless are making it across. If you try hard enough, you too can easily make this jump. All you have to do is get a headstart and leap. You got onto the train, you can get off the train. 

The roof draws closer and closer, with every person out, is another empty car. The Dauntless that have made it to the other side, move out of the way to allow more to spill over. Soon, in less than a minute, you will be one of them.

You can’t jump with everyone in the way.

“Back up!” you shout, motioning for all of them to get away from the door. You place yourself on the wall the opposite of the doorway. Finnick joins your side, the two of you bracing for a run. 

You wipe your palms on your pants. The gap is small. The train has a height advantage. You will make it to the other side.

Finnick counts down from three, and on one, the two of you take off running. Just as your foot hits the edge of the train floor, you push off. The wind is howling in your ears, your stomach swarms with butterflies, and then you hit the ground. Your left foot first, and the right one following after. You stumble a couple of steps, hands out to balance yourself. You’re on the other side. You had nothing to worry about, you didn’t even come close to the edge.

Finnick’s on his feet too, stretching his legs behind himself. The two of you stare at each other for a long moment. Laughter begins in your chest and bubbles out of your throat. Finnick joins the laughter, and follows you to the other side of the roof. More initiates jump out of the train, landing onto the roof. But none of them are nearly as graceful as you.

What amplifies that thought, is the sudden scream that comes from the other side of the roof.

You turn, eyes landing on the girl. It’s the taller Erudite, staring straight down. You look over who did make it, making everyone off one by one. The Amity girl dressed in red is here, the two Candor girls and the two Candor boys dressed in black and white, and one Erudite girl, dressed in blue. Which means the other didn’t make it.

One of the Candor girls has a strong grip on the Erudite girl’s arm, pulling her away from the edge. If it weren’t for her, she'd fall straight over the edge too, joining her friend at the bottom. You’re not cruel, so you don’t wish death upon her. But karma can be cruel. Especially when attacks on others aren’t deserved.

There were nine of you, and now there’s eight.

You shake your head slightly, turning back around to face the man standing on the edge of the roof, hands in his pockets. His eyes are on the Erudite girl, who has now broken into a sob, the Candor girl comforting her. But when he sees you and Finnick drawing closer, his eyes follow. It must be strange to see two Abnegation initiates.

“Listen up!” he begins, people fall silent. Except for the Erudite girl, who’s still crying, “My name is Damon, I’m one of the leaders of your new faction!” Damon has dark skin, his dreadlocks are long, pulled into a ponytail at the back of his head. Only one of them is loose, and it’s tucked behind his ear, “Several stories below us is the members’ entrance to our compound. If you can’t muster the will to jump off, you don’t belong here. Our initiates have the privilege of going first.”

The sick feeling in your stomach returns, you grind your teeth to keep from focusing on it. A girl just fell to her death trying to get onto this roof, and now you guys are supposed to jump off.

“Let me get this straight.” The Erudite girl snaps, her voice raising, “You want us to jump off? What kind of joke is this?”

“It’s not.” Damon gives her a smile, “You can jump off and start initiation, or you can stay up here and be factionless. You always have a choice.”

You will not be factionless.

“What do you think’s at the bottom?” Finnick asks, leaning over.

“Cement.” you say.

The crowd in front of you initiates splits. Some go right, others go left. It leaves a wide enough path for you to take to where Damon is standing to jump off. No one moves from where they stand, though. Not even Finnick, who’s normally eager to do anything dangerous and rule-breaking. The Dauntless-born could do this in their sleep, and they don’t move an inch.

A beat passes, and then two. At this rate, you’ll all end up factionless. In your head pops the image of the Erudite girl that had been the first to switch factions. Before her, no one else had gone. In a way, it’s like what happened in school after tests. All it would take is one person to turn it in, for all the rest to follow.

“I’m going to jump.” you tell Finnick, “Make sure you’re next.”

“What?” he says.

You start forward.

Damon raises a half-shaved eyebrow, giving you a challenging look, as if you won’t actually be able to go through with it. If you’re being honest, halfway through the walk, you start regretting it. But you’ve come this far, you can’t turn back now. You won’t be seen as a coward.

It could all be a trick, you know this. The Dauntless don’t have to be kind, they’re not held up by the same virtues that Abnegation and Amity are. But they wouldn’t just kill you. They don’t know you or your story. Only that you switched from Abnegation. You’ll have to admit that them allowing the initiates to go first is a red flag. Which is all the more reason to go first. 

This is a test of courage.

Damon steps off to the side, motioning for you to take his place when you stand right in front of them. There’s thousands of alarm bells going off in your head, all warning you to take a step back and realize what you’re about to do. You’re going to jump off of a roof, you should have more common sense than this. What the fuck are you doing?

You stand on the edge of the building, your toes hanging over the edge. The wind picks up, making your clothes snap violently. The building you’re standing on is one side of a square. In the middle of the square, is a hole. When you look down, all you can see is concrete, with one single hole in the middle. You can’t see beyond that.

Your heart skips at the bare thought of jumping, the butterflies taking over your body again. You take in deep breaths through your nose, gritting your teeth, “This will not kill you.”

You turn to face away.

“This will not kill you.”

You lean back.

“This will not kill you.”

And fall.

The wind howls in your ears loud enough for them to pop. A scream rises in your throat, which you’re barely able to hold down. Your stomach makes home in your chest, every muscle in your body tenses. You suck in a breath when you see the hole draw closer. Either you die, or you live.

You picture your body laying on the cement. 

You’re engulfed in darkness in an instant. And then you hit something hard that eventually sinks under your weight. You let out the air you were holding, dizziness sprouting when you do. Your fingers glide over the thing beneath you, and you find that it’s a net. You’re not dead. You’re very much alive.

You lay your head against the net for a second, staring up at where you had just jumped from. And then, you’re laughing, not being able to control yourself when you sit up to see where you go next. You’re greeted with hands, all out to help you off. You grab one of them, allowing them to pull you the distance.

Your feet connect with a wooden floor. Your hands glide to your hand, fingers hooking around your hair tie to pull the knot on the back of your head free. It’s grown considerably awful since you’ve jumped off a train, and now a roof. It’s only down for a brief moment, then you’re pulling it into a ponytail on the back of your head.

Your eyes become adjusted to the dark quickly to see that you’re standing on a platform that’s ten feet above the regular ground. Around you is an open cavern. You are now inside of the Dauntless headquarters. You look over to the person that just helped you off of the net to find it’s a woman. You have to look up to see her face.

Laurel has a smug look on her face, “What name do you want to give us?”

There’s a lot of things that you have left behind today, but your name won’t be one of them, “(Y/n).”

Laurel gives you a nod, it’s obvious she recognizes you. She looks over her shoulder, “First jumper--(Y/n)!”

You watch in slight horror as a crowd comes from the cavern’s walls. You hadn’t even noticed that they were there. And in classic Dauntless fashion, they immediately cheer, pumping their fists in the air, whistling, stomping, some clap. You give them a smile.

“Welcome to Dauntless.” Laurel says.

You look back at the net just in time to see another initiate fall from the roof. They bounce on the net once or twice, hair going in every direction. It isn’t until they sit up, do you realize that it’s Finnick, heeding your advice. There’s a grin on his face, you can hear him laughing to himself.

The Dauntless standing around the net reach over for him. He takes one of their hands, helping him off. Laurel leans over to get his name, and then turns, “Second jumper--Finnick!”

The cheering coming from the crowd is loud. Finnick joins you where you stand, eyes wild, he runs a hand through his hair to tame it, “Holy shit.”

“Tell me about it.” you breathe.

When the rest of the initiates stand on solid ground again too, Laurel and a woman named Pleurisy lead you down a narrow tunnel. Everything is made of stone, and the ceiling slopes downwards. Most of it goes unlit, which means you have to rely on your senses to get through the dark. However, after a few close encounters, you wrap your arm around Finnick’s to keep you steady, letting him decide your fate.

When Damon, Laurel and Pleurisy come to a stop, you do too. They all face you, Pleurisy is the only one to speak, “This is where we split. The Dauntless-born initiates are with me, I’m pretty sure you don’t need a tour of the place.”

Pleurisy starts her way into the darkness, you watch as most of the crowd goes with her. You count them as they pass, and end up with the number ten. In total, combining both the transfers and the Dauntless-born, there’s eighteen of you. Damon takes the end of the crowd that’s leaving, wishing Laurel good luck.

“My name is Laurel,” Laurel says, loud enough to cut over the voices speaking behind you, “I’m going to be your instructor for the next few weeks during your initiation. If you have any questions, feel free to ask me after the tour.” She turns her back to you all, and starts walking, “This is the Pit.”

She pushes open a set of doors at the end of the hallway, you and the others walk out to see what she means. Like the hallway, the Pit is also an underground cavern. It’s an open space out here, though. It’s huge, you can’t see the bottom, and you can’t see the other end of the Pit from where you are. There’s several stories above you, and inside of the walls are built-in stores. Food, clothing, supplies, places to build hobbies. The paths leading up are narrow, and it doesn’t have railings to keep you from falling off. 

At the very top of the Pit, is the roof. It’s made out of glass, allowing sunlight to come in and light up the area. This doesn’t mean that there aren’t blue lanterns strategically placed around the paths. The sunlight covers only so much distance. As the sun sets, the lanterns become more reliable.

There are Dauntless members everywhere, caught in their own little bubbles. They shout and laugh, and their children run along the hole in the ground as if it’s not dangerous. All of them are dressed in black, with varying amounts of piercings, different brightly colored hair, and tattoos. Each and every last one of them is unique, unlike in Abnegation.

“Let’s go to the chasm!” Laurel says.

She brings you along the right side of the Pit, straight into the dark. Once again, you place your hand on Finnick’s shoulder. You lean in slightly, “Something tells me that one of us is going to end up tripping and knocking out our entire row of front teeth.”

“Don’t let it be you. I heard that you’re the coolest out of all of us.” Finnick snickers.

You punch his arm slightly.

Laurel brings you to an iron barrier, a railing at last. You can hardly see through the darkness, but there’s an unmistakable sound of rushing water. You let go of Finnick and head forward, firmly placing your hand onto the railing before you lean over the side to see down. A couple stories down, is a river. It’s making so much noise because it’s constantly crashing into the jagged rock wall. One particular wave hits the wall hard enough to send a spray of water up, it doesn’t reach you.

“The chasm is a reminder that there is a fine line between bravery and stupidity!” Laurel shouts over the noise, “One jump off this railing--” she slaps the metal, “--will end your life. It’s happened many times before you, do not be one of them. This is your only warning.”

With that, she leads you all down another hallway, across the Pit and to one of those holes in the wall that you mentioned earlier. The room alone is bright enough to light up the hallway. When you get closer, it’s clear that it’s some sort of dining hall, full of the Dauntless.

Laurel brings you in, and steps aside. For half a second, the entire dining hall falls silent. And then the crowd is roaring, loud. They all get to their feet, slamming their shoes against the concrete, whistling, clapping, cheering. The noise lasts for minutes on end, you can’t help the smile that appears on your face.

When it does end, you’re all left to find seats by yourself to get comfortable. And since FInnick is taller than you, he easily spots a table on the far side of the dining hall. He moves quickly through the aisles, so you have to grab a hold of the back of his shirt to keep from falling behind. 

He takes a seat, you’re sure to sit on his left. It’s only a few moments later when you’re being joined by some of the other transfer initiates. The only Amity girl takes a seat across from you and Finnick, tucking some of her curly dark hair behind her ear as she serves herself without a word. While the only Erudite girl comes through with the Candor boy and girl that she was talking to on the train. Her eyes are bloodshot, she spins a strand of her blonde hair around her finger, puckering her lips before she sits down in a flourish. Her friends sit beside her.

You wonder when you’ll finally know all of their names.

“How bad do you think initiation is going to be?” you ask, looking over at Finnick.

Finnick’s currently staring at the food that’s in the middle of the table. None of it do you recognize, and it sits on large silver plates. You two are used to frozen chicken and canned vegetables. Fancy food in Abnegation is, of course, self-indulgent. But there’s also the fact that farms are far away from where you used to live. Even if Abnegation were allowed to eat the food, you wouldn’t be able to get it.

“Well, considering that we’ve jumped off a moving train and a building, I think that it can only get worse from here.” Finnick barely spares you a glance, “Okay, seriously, what the hell is this?”

He picks up a… sandwich…? off of one of the platters. He turns it slightly, being careful not to let it disassemble itself, “I’m kinda missing the chicken right now.”

“The Abnegation transfers don’t know what a hamburger is?” A loud voice says.

And right on beat, Finnick asks, “What the fuck is a hamburger?”

You let out a snort that develops into a loud laugh. Even the Amity girl sitting across from you two is laughing, covering her mouth with her hand. She raises her eyebrows, and looks over at the Erudite girl. If her intention is to embarrass either of you, she’s going to have to try harder than that. Last time you checked, you three were the first to jump off the building. She took her sweet time coming down.

“Hamburgers in Amity are typically for special occasions.” The girl speaks, “We normally eat fresh fruits and vegetables, but sometimes we’re able to have stuff like this.” She smiles, “My name is Thyme.”

“Nice to meet you,” you give her a smile, “I’m (Y/n).”

“Finnick Odair.” Finnick says, he also smiles, “Am I supposed to eat this dry?”

“No, you can use this.” Thyme pushes forward a couple of bowls of different colored sauces, “Put it on the top bun.”

Out of instinct, you glance at the other transfers. But you have to look again when you see that the Erudite girl has got her eyes on you, glaring. 

“If you’re going to say something, do it. Otherwise, stop fucking staring at me like a freak.” you snap, pressing your palm to the table.

She turns away, so do you.

“Wow, had I known that your personality would change completely, I would’ve told you to go to Dauntless in the first place.” Finnick says, he gives you a grin.

“I’m surprised that you haven’t killed any of them yet, yourself. What happened to violence first, words second?”

“I’m eating.” he says, holds up the hamburger like he’s cheering, and then takes a bite.

“You’ll have plenty of time for that in the first stage of initiation.” A familiar voice says, you look up to see it’s Laurel. She takes a seat beside Thyme, “I wouldn’t worry about it now. In fact, enjoy the peace while you can.”

Your face twists, “That doesn’t sound good.”

She shrugs.

You go ahead and help yourself. For about fifteen minutes, you, Finnick and Thyme are between eating and getting to know each other. Or rather, getting to know Thyme better and telling her bits and pieces about yourselves. Like the rest of you, Thyme is sixteen, she’s from Amity, she has two sisters and a younger brother. She’s the only one in her family to have switched factions. And her face darkens when she mentions it’s because of Amity’s values.

Guess they’re too sunshine-y for her? Not that you want to ask what she means, because the tone of her voice was pretty set. But you don’t get the chance to anyway. The doors to the dining hall open to reveal one person. He must be important, because he’s able to make the entire fall quiet, only whispers being heard. You watch as he comes down the aisles.

You wipe your hands on your napkin, and then your mouth, “Is he another leader?”

“Yup.” Laurel says, she looks over her shoulder slightly to see.

You and Finnick fall completely quiet. And then he chokes, coughing and covering his mouth with his hand. You pat his back without looking at him, it’s only when he shakes your shoulder, do you see his face. It’s red, he struggles for a moment, and then says; “He looks familiar.”

The leader coming down the aisle is blonde. The sides of his head are shaved, but the top is long enough for him to pull it into an acceptable ponytail. His hair is only a couple of inches long, not long enough to reach the back of his neck. You think that it would barely reach the back of his head, actually. But the blonde hair sticks up, wavy and fanned. He’s got a piercing through his nose, and two through his bottom lip on opposite sides. Tattoos snake up his arm.

Finnick is right. There’s something about him that’s familiar. And it doesn’t hit you until he smiles. You can practically hear his laugh in your ears, riding right along with your brother’s.

An unintentional gasp leaves you, hands curling into fists, “Caspian.”

Laurel backs up slightly, looking over you, “Yeah, how’d you know?”

“He was best friends with my older brother.”

The sudden urge to call out his name to gain his attention fills you, but you don’t have to. He takes a turn toward your guys’ table, eyes seeping down until they land on you. You stand from your spot, a smile coming over your face.

“Caspian!”

Caspian gives you a white grin, “And for a second, I thought I’d get the jump on you. How are you?”

When he sits, you do too, “Good, actually. You look so different.”

“All part of the Dauntless scheme.” he then gives a look to Laurel, “Except for her.”

“I got a tattoo.” she defends.

“And your brothers?” Caspian looks back to you.

You give a half-hearted shrug, “Mox is in Amity, he switched a couple of weeks after the accident. Reed is still Reed, but Naida and the kids are doing good!”

You can’t directly mention that it’s his family. Technically, when you switch factions, you’re supposed to forget who you were before. Family, mannerisms, friends. The saying is ‘faction before blood’. You’re sure that Caspian wouldn’t jeopardize his position here to ask about his family, anyway. So you thought that you might as well answer the questions that he won’t ask.

He gives you a sincere smile, a silent thank you. But then he’s grinning, “Dauntless, huh? Thought you were all about Abnegation, Stiff.”

“Couldn’t do it, it’s too stuffy there.” you loosen up a little, jabbing your thumb at Finnick, “Plus, I knew that this idiot would come here. And I couldn’t just leave him to fend for himself.”

“Haha.” Finnick says, rolling his eyes, “You should’ve seen her so far, though. She’s fearless.”

You can feel your face grow hot, “For now.”

“Well, keep up the spirit.” Caspian says, “You’re going to need it.”

At the end of dinner, Caspian takes you and the rest of the transfers down a series of hallways. Laurel had split. An end of a hallway is signified by a single blue lamp, and then you’re submerged back into darkness for long periods of time. The ground is uneven, so you rely on Finnick’s occasional complaining and the sound of him tripping, to let you know when to step up or down.

During this, he eventually grabs a hold of your shoulder.

Finally, Caspian stops in front of a side of large wooden doors, and then turns to you all, “My name is Caspian, I’m one of five leaders here in Dauntless. We take initiation seriously, so I’ve taken the liberty of volunteering to oversee most of your training.”

Volunteering. Very funny, Caspian. 

“Here’s some rules!” He shouts, “Be in the training room by eight everyday, training will take place from eight to six, with a break for lunch. After six, you’re free to do whatever the hell you want. Between each initiation stage, you’ll get some time off.”

Time off? That, right there, is already a big difference between Abnegation and Dauntless. In Abnegation, you’re not allowed to put yourself first, much less your interests. If you had free time, you needed to fill it by helping out Reed, Alyssum, a neighbor, somebody. The only time you would get to yourself would be at night, when you were supposed to be in bed, sleeping.

“You can only leave the compound if you have a Dauntless buddy, not one of your shitty initiate friends. If you leave without one, you will have to answer to one of the Dauntless leaders.” He grins, “Probably me. Behind the door is where you’ll be staying for the initiation process. There’s ten beds, eight of you. Pick whatever you want.

“During the first stage of initiation, you’ll be kept separate from the Dauntless-born initiates, but you’re still being compared to each other. When initiation ends, your rankings will be decided depending on what the Dauntless-borns have gotten. Long story short, it’s all rigged.

“Depending on your rank by the end of all of this, you’ll get to pick your job. The higher the rank, the better the job. Also, only the top ten initiates are made members. In total, there’s eighteen initiates this year, four of you will be cut on the first stage, and the rest will happen after the final test. However, you always have the option of dropping out and becoming factionless.”

He pauses to let this sink in. It’s so quiet in this hallway, that you can hear when someone shifts on their feet.

Ten initiates will become members. Dauntless practically cuts all of their initiates, no matter what happens. Dauntless is more ruthless than you anticipated. But if Caspian of all people can get through initiation and be good enough to become a leader, then you can pass too.

And you will.

--

ANTERIC IS A SPIN-OFF DIVERGENT AU //MASTERLIST//

add yourself to the TAGLIST

@amixedwitch / @justthatfangirloverthere / @fnnshelbys / @neenieweenie / @vxntae / @liaaacantwrite

[ilguna]

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favourite opening line, then tag 10 of your favourite authors!

tagged by @amixedwitch

1. The next three days follow the same nightmarish pattern.

2.  “How was it?” you ask quietly, briefly glancing at him.

3.  A sudden, sharp pain explodes across your nose, forcing tears to your eyes.

4.  She turns towards the left, where the Abnegation and Dauntless bowls lie.

5.  I throw the axe, watching it fly through the air.

this is all i’m sharing, the other 15 can be the beginning chapters of anteric lol

i don’t really think i have a favorite

@blueeyedgeorgie bc i didnt think she’d actually want to do this, ur a terrible writer i hate you

AND @starrybrock and @annab-nana bc i love you guys, your writing is amazing, mwuah