#anteric

Without a hint of hesitation, you watch as your best friend, Finnick Odair, turns to face the two metal bowls on his left, Dauntless and Abnegation. The two of you have known for years that he’d be leaving at the first given chance. Even if you wanted to, you could never beg him to stay here, not when this faction makes him so miserable.

He moves his hand over the burning coals of Dauntless, allowing his blood to run down the side of hand, sizzling blood signifies his leave. The Dauntless section explodes into cheer, celebrating their newest member. There’s a few of them that look a little shocked that a Stiff will be joining them, but they’re more delighted than anything. If their faction is appealing enough to draw even the selfless people out of their home, that must mean they’re doing something right.

Finnick retreats up the stairs to stand behind his new faction, and Haymitch Abernathy, the leader of Candor, doesn’t hesitate to call the next name. You watch in anxious silence as your turn nears. The decision shouldn’t be one at all, not with your aptitude result being Abnegation. 

However, watching Finnick go makes you doubt that you can stay. It’s not because you don’t like it here--or fit in--more of the fact that you and Finnick have gone through everything together. He was there for you when both of your parents died, and he was there when your brother had transferred to Amity.

You can’t pretend you didn’t know that this was coming. You knew that he would never stay, and he told you last night that he would be leaving. When you heard the news coming from him, you told him to do anything he had to, and that you’ll forgive him no matter what. At the time, you were picturing him leaving, just like he did. You never thought how you’d feel watching it happen, seeing him on the other side of the room.

You would never hold it against him, or go back on your promise. He’s been by your side since the two of you were kids, to suddenly say you hate him would be crazy. He’s not just your friend anymore, he’s your family. 

Which means you know that it’ll be difficult for him to start all over by himself. He doesn’t know anyone in Abnegation, and the key to passing initiation is to have some people on your side, you at least know that much.

If you were to leave, your siblings would have each other. Reed has Alyssum for thirteen more years, plenty of time for him to set up a family before her Choosing Ceremony, if she ends up leaving. 

Finnick is completely ripping up his roots and forcing himself to claim new land. With you there, it would be more manageable. 

“(Y/n) Gallows.” Haymitch says, his eyes landing on you next.

At your own pace, you slowly make your way down to the middle of the room. All eyes are on you at the moment, most Abnegation teenagers have stayed so far, with the occasional outlier like Finnick. If they do transfer, it seems that Amity is what they were made for, something you’re not entirely surprised about. 

Your brother had gone to Amity, it’s only been three years since you saw him last, but it feels like a lifetime. You knew that’s what he had to do, though. Mox always had the heart of gold, softer than you and Reed, which is okay. He needed to go to a place where he belonged the most, where judgement didn’t come along so often. 

The thought of joining him is tempting, you do have to admit that.

You stop in front of the bowls, trying to picture yourself from your audience’s perspective, how they might be feeling. A little Abnegation girl, dressed in grey, never spoke out of line once in her life. Her family’s name has been passed around more times than it should. Two dead parents, an older brother gone, two kids too many for the Abnegation ideal.

Despite this, no one can claim that any of you are out of place here. You give up your spot on the bus, which has caused you to be late to class more times than you’d like. You don’t fight with the others, you always volunteer your time to people who need it. Whether it be tutoring or one of the factionless begging for food. You’ve always put yourself last in order to follow the rules.

For Finnick, it’s the opposite. He’s taller than the average guy, making him stick out in crowds, even when hunching. His voice is louder than it should be, people in grey used to glare at the back of his head when they heard him. And his first instinct has always been to think of himself and everyone else later. 

Well, that’s not entirely true. You’ve actually seen yourself come before him several times, all willingly on his part. He always took the initiative to make sure you were doing okay. Maybe asking you how you’re feeling, other times he’d force his way to the front of the bus line when you didn’t feel well.

You’ve returned the favor several times by being his alibi on certain things. Coming home too late, indulging in group gatherings when he shouldn’t, getting caught up in fights. It didn’t matter the situation, because as long as he was okay at the end of the night, you were there to cover him.

As you look over each element in the bowls, you note how blood stains them differently. Erudite’s water is now tinted a gentle pink, Candor’s glass is reflecting red, Abnegation’s stones are stained red. The only two that don’t show a sign that someone bled on them, are Amity’s dirt and Dauntless’ fire. Although, the Dauntless coals do sizzle upon contact with the blood.

Haymitch offers you the knife, and you take it without so much of a second look at him. Your body turns towards the left on instinct, leaving Erudite, Candor and Amity out of the question. 

You bring the blade across your palm, allowing it to pool while you dispose of the knife. Your fate says that you should stay in Abnegation, continue with the ideals that you’ve been living in for sixteen years, and become a perfect member of the faction. That’s not what will be happening, though.

Finnick has put you first so many times, and you think it’s your turn to do the same for him. 

You’ve heard a lot about Dauntless initiation, the first always being how difficult it is. This morning you went talking to the factionless to get any sort of insight on what initiation could be like. They told you many find themselves factionless because they couldn’t stomach what they had to do. In fact, a good amount of the factionless you talked to were ex-Dauntless initiates.

The stories they told you made you want to reach out to Finnick to tell him what he could go through. Initiation could’ve changed over time, but the factionless were saying that typically standards don’t change, and you had to agree with them on that one. You didn’t go through with telling Finnick, only because you know that doubt can ruin one dream, and you’ll be damned if you’re the one thing that holds Finnick back from doing what he’s destined to.

If they were telling the truth, and it’s actually as difficult as they say, Finnick’s going to need a friend to get him through it. And who fits that job better than you do?

As much as you’d like to stay, you know that this is the right thing. You move your hand over the Dauntless coals, feeling the warmth lick up at your palm when you pour the blood out. The blood disappears from sight, confirming what you’ll be doing for the rest of your life. 

Dauntless erupts into cheers immediately, making you flinch slightly from the intensity. You tuck your hand into your pocket, not wanting to get blood everywhere. As you make your way up to stand next to Finnick, you offer your new faction members shy smiles. They pat your back, congratulating you.

This hurts Reed, you can see it in his face, but in time he’ll forgive you. Eventually he’ll see that this is the most selfless thing you will ever do in your life. You just transferred to a place where you don’t belong just so a friend feels more at home. You give him a nod, and it seems that he’s already beginning that process of understanding.

The second you meet Finnick’s eyes, you’re able to see the confusion and concern. He knows you don’t belong here, he knows how out-of-place you’re going to feel. You told him last night that your result was Abnegation, but you never told him that it meant goodbye.

“Why?” he asks, not minding the looks you two earn from others.

You elbow his arm slightly, giving him a smile, “Why do you think?”

--

It doesn’t feel like it’s been a month, not with everything Dauntless has put you through.

You barely passed the first stage of initiation, which was exactly what you were told it was going to be. You were paired against the other initiates to prove that you could defend yourself in a fight. And after losing the first two fights, it finally clicked and you were able to win the last two. Your ranking at the end wasn’t the best, but you weren’t cut, that’s all that mattered to you.

The gun and knife training in-between wasn’t exactly your favorite situation to be put into, either. In Abnegation, self defense is, of course, seen as selfish, which is why practically the entire faction denies any sort of training to protect themselves. Even in dire need, they’d rather die before they did something so heinous.

You can see why, you can end up taking someone else’s life to save yours. The person could be a murderer and they’d likely try to take a more gentle approach to coax them out of the mindset, rather than take them down entirely. That’s the entire reason why Dauntless exists, you guess. Dauntless makes the hard decisions that no one else can.

The next stage was facing your fears, another idea that you weren’t too fond of. The hallucinations made you come face to face with nightmares you didn’t even know you had. That entire week was filled with sleepless nights, and waking up in sweat-soaked sheets. You weren’t the only one that was fazed by the stage, which was the most comforting part about that.

Everyone was broken and quiet. When the rankings finally came out again, you were sure that you were going to be at the very bottom, sure that you hadn’t improved and maybe even went down some. You were pleasantly surprised when you saw that you had gone up a number or two, meaning you made it past another round of cuts.

Finnick, on the other hand, couldn’t fit in more.

He was undefeated during the fights, anyone he came across either lost or they had forfeit before things had gotten too awful. He had the lowest time when it came to fear-facing, meaning he kept his golden spot at the top of the rankings. And he really was a natural when it came to shooting the guns.

If you hadn’t grown up with Finnick in Abnegation, you wouldn’t know any better. You’ve got yourself completely convinced that he was made for Dauntless. He even fits in with the Dauntless-borns, a feat that the other transfers haven’t achieved yet. Wherever they go, he’s not far to follow.

As much as Finnick tries his best to tone it down, the teasing hasn’t stopped yet. You thought that you’d at least lose the label of being a Stiff once you came here, but it must be written into your code. No matter how hard you try to loosen up, you find yourself retreating back into your nature. You know you can’t live the rest of your life this way, especially not if you’re going to be a Dauntless member.

It’s hard to break out of the shell, though. The most you’ve done so far is get your ears pierced and a small matching tattoo with Finnick. You can’t stand the idea of cutting your hair just yet, god forbid dying it. Everyone is so physical, and loud, and they take up more space than they need.

Dauntless is the complete opposite of Abnegation.

However, initiation is over. The announcement on whether or not you’re a member should be soon. The entire dining room is filled with people, far beyond the recommended capacity. You thought that it was far too busy and impossible to find a seat on casual days. Now, people are quite literally elbow to elbow to make room for more people.

It’s not the best feeling in the world, to be touching thighs with someone else. You know that no matter the situation, you’ll always put your comfort aside if it means to help others. One of these guys could be crying and you’d offer them a hug in order to get them to feel better.

Like now for example--minus the crying part--Finnick’s got your hand in a deathgrip, and it’s only getting tighter with each passing second. You can’t imagine a world where Finnick doesn’t make it into Dauntless, especially with his perfect scores, but anxiety can be odd sometimes. You’ve had a couple of stomach churns in the past couple of days, yourself. And it wasn’t for anything significant.

Finnick’s hand is warm in yours, and he’s been holding it since the two of you sat down at the table almost an hour ago. It hadn’t been so crowded then, you could comfortably cross your legs without kicking someone. If you tried that now, you’d earn glares from around you. Unlike Abnegation, Dauntless members have no problem with airing their problems.

You absently watch as Caspian gets on top of a table to give his speech. It isn’t until the words come out of his mouth, do you pay attention, “As you all know, initiation has just ended. We started off with nineteen initiates, ten of them being our own blood, nine of them being transfers. Now, we have thirteen initiates left, and only ten of them will be allowed to call themselves one of us.”

Caspian smiles, “To those who have made it this far, though. We offer you our congratulations.”

Cheering erupts around you, mostly clapping and stomping to reinforce what Caspian has just said.

He continues, raising his voice, “In Dauntless, we believe in bravery. In Dauntless, we believe in taking action. And in Dauntless, we believe in freedom from fear, and in acquiring the skills to force the bad out of the world we live in, so that the good can prosper and thrive. Initiates, if you have made it this far, you must also believe in these things. Which is why we welcome you.”

There’s no silence, only whistling and clapping.

“Tomorrow, in their first act as members, our top ten initiates will choose their jobs, in order of how they are ranked. Their rankings were determined based on a combination of three scores. The first comes from combat training, the second comes from the simulations, and the third is from today’s final examination--the fear landscape.

“The rankings will appear on the screen behind me.”

Finnick’s squeezing gets tighter as the names appear on the screen behind Caspian. You can see Finnick at the very top, in the first slot, confirming your thoughts. Your eyes wander down further and further, and find that you’re not dead last, just average somewhere in the middle. You weren’t cut.

Finnick lets out a breath, and when you look at him, you can see a relieved smile on his face, “You made it.”

“Forget about me, Finn. You’re number one!” You laugh, shaking his shoulder. He finally lets your hand go, which is throbbing slightly from the sudden release, “You’ve got the pick of the litter.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” Finnick says, pausing for a moment.

“What is it?” you ask when he doesn’t say anything else. You thought that he’d be celebrating, but you’re watching as the smile slowly fades from his face.

It comes back in that instant, in the form of a bashful smile. You have no time to ask, as Finnick leans forward and presses his lips to yours. You cup his face, holding him in place to savor the warmth.

He’s the first to pull away, staring at you wordlessly, then he says, “Thank you.”

--

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

Just when you think you’ve seen it all in Dauntless, the universe always comes back around to prove you wrong. Which is a surprise every time, because after you started studying under the leaders, there wasn’t anything under the sun that was off limits. And you’ve been doing this for years.

Mags currently stands with you, Caspian and Damon by the train tracks, waiting for the train. Last week, Erudite’s leader, Coriolanus Snow, had gotten in contact with the leaders of each faction to discuss a new serum that they have in the works. He didn’t exactly say what the serum would be for, only that it would help with security.

Before he had said that, Caspian was convinced that you wouldn’t have to tag along, since you’ve gone to more than your fair share of meetings. By now, you understand the whole process, from the very beginning, to the very end. If they had decided to send you alone today, you would’ve been able to take care of it without a worry.

However, if the serum concerns security, you have to be there because Finnick can’t. It’s not that he can’t get up and go, it’s more of the fact that it would be inappropriate to bring him. He may be the head of security, but he’s not in any position of power within the Dauntless headquarters.

Which is why you’ll be working as his spokesperson. You’ve worked alongside Finnick plenty of times, you know his job as well as he does. And just for good measure, you got permission from Caspian to tell Finnick what you all do know about the serum, so Finnick could tell you things that he would specifically be looking for.

Generally, Dauntless is already at peak performance with the technology you have at hand. You can always appreciate Erudite when they have more improved versions of what you have. But past that, new inventions aren’t necessarily a priority. As far as you’re concerned, everything is under control.

Finnick highlighted a few questions for you to ask while you’re there. And if the Erudite get technical with the words, you’re there to decipher what they have to say, and combat it if you have to. Over these last couple of years, you learned that not only is your Divergence one of your biggest dangers, it’s also your biggest advantage as a future leader.

You had expected that it would only be you, Finnick and Damon visiting the Abnegation building, considering that Mags has begun to hit the point where she can’t navigate Dauntless anymore. It’s not memory, it’s more of the fact that she’s not physically fit enough to go up the winding path of the Pit, or through long hallways in stretches of darkness without knowing where the next step is.

It’s no surprise, though. Mags is the oldest member of Dauntless, staying long past people expected her to. It’s a miracle she hasn’t broken anything yet, with the way that the compound is structured. In Dauntless, there are no old, only the young that will lead the future generations. As soon as Mags proves that she’s incapable of living the lifestyle anymore, she’ll be forced out, becoming factionless.

Not that Caspian likes to talk that way, but he’s said that her time is right around the corner. Maybe next week, maybe next month. All you know is that you’ll be replacing her, and you’ll join Caspian and Damon in making official decisions for the faction. Sometimes, it’s a scary thought. Other times, you wonder just how much of an impact you can leave before it’s your time to leave, too.

Anyway, Mags decided that she couldn’t really sit out on the meeting if Erudite might alter the way of life for everyone. Which means that she’s going to have to jump on the train, and you haven’t seen her do it at all yet. In all your time of helping lead, Mags has never shown the want or need of jumping onto the train. 

She has to know that it’s more dangerous to her than anyone else, right? Damon might slowly be tallying up his own years, but he could still run circles around her. If she breaks her leg, or something important, then that’ll be it for her. She’ll get sent to the nearest Erudite hospital with the label ‘factionless’.

You guess you shouldn’t be worrying over her like this. You should be hoping that she makes it onto the train so that you don’t have to take up her position all of a sudden.

“Here it comes,” Caspian says, breaking the silence.

You look over to the left, double-checking to make sure he’s right, and he is. The horn blares a couple of times, warning you four that it’s coming in hot. You bend your knees slightly, stretching out your calves. You’re not sure who wants to get on the train first, all you know is that you don’t want to be stuck behind Mags, if she does end up taking her time getting on.

The lights flash, the sound of the horn repeating. Just as it begins slowing, you take off running beside it, not waiting for the other three to make their decision. You’d rather be the first on the train, with the responsibility of helping the others inside. Compared to being last, with little to no room to work with before the train has sped up and left you behind. 

You chase the car for a few more steps before throwing yourself to the left, hand out to grab the handle. Your hand curls around the metal, which is warm from baking in the sun all afternoon. With a jerk of your hips, your right foot lands on the floor of the train car. You reach inside, above the doorway, to grab the second handle with your right hand. And all in one motion, you pull yourself inside.

You get out of the way by moving to the left side of the car. Still holding on, you lean out a little to see the others, allowing the wind to carry your hair off of your shoulders. The next person running up is Caspian, blonde hair slicked back because of how fast he’s running. He throws himself left too, and you offer out your free hand to pull him inside.

His hand grasps yours tightly, and using your combined strength, he gets into the train with no problem. He’s got years of experience beneath his belt, you’d be surprised if he, out of all people, made some rookie mistake. 

Instead of Damon being third, it’s Mags. She’s not moving as quickly as you two did, but she’s within range of the train car. Caspian leans out as far as he can, reaching for her. After one big burst, she takes the chance on his hand, being prepared for the yank forward and the ground disappearing beneath her. You grab her other hand, and her feet meet the train flooring.

Damon waves you and Caspian away, wanting to get in on his own. Mags takes a corner on the far side away from you, away from the door so that she doesn’t get caught in the force of the wind. Caspian backs up too, letting Damon have a wide range to work with. As soon as you give Damon the thumbs up, he gets in with one fluid motion, perfected from his years of experience.

After that, you’re left to fall back and wait until you have to get off the train. Which brings out a whole new question on how Mags will get out unharmed. You suppose that you’ll see when the time comes.

You look over at the others, “How many Abnegation leaders will there be?”

Like you’ve said, you’ve gone to plenty of these meetings before, but when it comes to Abnegation, they’re always a mystery. There have been times when they brought half their board, and there’s been times when they’ve only brought two or three people. One young, one old. There’s only been one time where they’ve allowed one person to go by themselves, and it was because they had a lot on their plate that month.

Damon shrugs, “Probably three, like normal.”

“But this is a serum that we’re talking about,” Caspian says, shaking his head twice, “Abnegation isn’t going to pass up the opportunity to argue with them.”

“The Abnegation don’t argue, they use judgement to break the other person down. It’s why Erudite hates the selfless idea in the first place, Abnegation projects it onto others, and it works.” you say, straightening up.

“So, what? You think they’ll bring more people?” Caspian asks, and then he glances at Mags, “What do you think?”

You and Damon have to lean in to hear her through the sound, “I wouldn’t be surprised if they brought the whole council. It’s Coriolanus we’re talking about, not some intern.”

She’s right, it’s the point you were trying to direct Caspian and Damon to. Erudite has a history of sending interns--leaders-in-training like you--to meetings, instead of Coriolanus himself. The funny thing about sending the interns is that you’ve never seen the same person come back, ever. It’s always a new person, and they vanish as quickly as they came.

If Coriolanus is calling a meeting personally, it means business, real progress. At this point, you wouldn’t be surprised if the whole Abnegation population came to the meeting to deflect any information that Coriolanus has. Unless, of course, he’s come up with a way to help the factionless. He might steal their hearts all in one go, even if it’s not willingly.

The four of you don’t talk again until you’ve made it to the city, nearly thirty minutes later. With how far away the Dauntless compound is, you have to leave early if you want to make it anywhere in the city on time. It reminds you a lot of the bus rides to school when you lived in Abnegation. Only, you’d be delayed so badly solely because you had to give others the opportunity to get onto the bus first. And if there was no room left for you, you’d have to wait for the next one to come around.

You don’t miss Abnegation, not at all.

Now that you’ve gotten a taste of what it’s like to come first, it’s addicting. You can take what you want, when you want it. You know that there will always be your underlying Abnegation urges every now and then. But you’re predominantly Dauntless since you’ve become a member and lived the lifestyle.

“(Y/n) and Caspian out first!” Damon shouts, motioning for Caspian to join you at the door.

You’re a few steps back, as is Caspian. If you get a running start out the door, you have a better chance at landing on your feet when you get out. Plus, you’re less likely to go and accidentally twist your ankle. 

A patch of grass finally passes in front of the door, and you take off running, pushing off when your toes just barely hang over the edge. The wind whistles in your ears for a moment, but then your feet touch the ground, and you’re stumbling forward to slow yourself down.

Caspian stands just fine next to you, hands in his pockets. The two of you watch as Mags and Damon leave the car next. Mags dissolves into a crouch so that her knees catch the entirety of the blow. Damon does the same thing that you and Caspian did, only much more gracefully.

The walk to the Abnegation headquarters is fairly quiet, each of you preoccupied with your own thoughts. You mainly worry about making sure that you’ll be able to ask every one of Finnick’s questions. If he has all the information possible, he’ll be able to decide whether or not Dauntless should back up Erudite. Which is important, considering that you are their biggest ally.

Soon, you can see the tall building looming over the street, casting a dark shadow. The closer you get, the more you’re able to see that there are Abnegation members everywhere. Some stand along the sidewalk, talking to each other. Some are waiting for the bus to come around, probably running errands for others.

Once you’re noticed by one person, more follow behind them. Their stares are judgmental, and you can already hear what’s going through their minds. The tight clothing, the brightly colored tattoos that are in obvious areas, the piercings on display for them to see. And it’s all shamelessly, attention is what the Dauntless crave.

The girl working at the front desk must have been waiting for you, because she’s out of her seat in an instant, moving around the counter, “Follow me, please.”

The inside of the building is boring, with grey fabric walls, and shiny white floors. The girl’s hair is pulled back into a bun, a few hairs hanging loose out of the bottom. She holds her arms behind her back, hands clasped together. You remember seeing Calandra, Caspian’s older sister, doing this exact same thing before she transferred to Erudite. It’s because Naida walks this way too, it must be some sort of tradition that your family never picked up on.

Then again, your family has never been for traditional roles. Two kids too many, both parents dead, two transferred children. Your brother is raising your sister by himself, in a house that is far too big for him to reasonably occupy. He might have moved, but you really doubt it. The house has three bedrooms, and it’s roomy on the inside.

The receptionist stops in front of an elevator. She removes her hands from behind her back to press the up button. She settles for intertwining her fingers in front of her, staring at the metal doors.

“You know, your hair is distracting,” Caspian teases, he must be referring to the hair that hangs loose.

The girl goes rigid, shoulders tensing. You press your lips together in an effort to suppress your laugh, shaking your head at Caspian. Damon’s got the same expression you do. Mags doesn’t look like she’s having as much fun, you can only imagine how badly her knees must be hurting now.

The elevator doors open, and the girl moves aside to let you four go inside first. When this happens, she takes the opportunity to reach up behind her head to feel the bun for herself.

“I was just teasing,” Caspian winks, coming in and standing next to you.

Her face turns bright red, eyes squinting at him slightly. If he’s not careful, he’s going to worsen the narrative that Abnegation has set on Dauntless. Not that you guys actually care, of course. They could call all of you horrible people, the truth of the matter is that you’re the ones protecting them from danger.

Inside of the lift, she presses the number thirty. It’s not the highest floor that this building has to offer. If you look around her, you can see it goes up to fifty. There must be some office spaces above, where the Abnegation are working together to plan out another city repair. As if the first hundred didn’t fail, too.

The girl holds the door open for you to pass through, and then she leads the way down a couple of hallways. Up here, the floors are grey carpet and the walls are painted white, a reversal of the first floor. Grey is such a boring color, you can see why they’ve chosen it.

She stops in front of the door at the end of the hall, one hand on the doorknob, the other giving a quiet knock to let the people inside know that you’re coming in. You hadn’t heard talking initially, but once she knocks, the murmur on the other side ceases. She pushes the door open, allowing you to go inside. She gives you a smile, and then closes the door behind her when she leaves.

You turn your attention to the people in the room, after that. And the first thing you notice is how you’re the last to show up, every other leader is here. They were just missing you four. You can’t say that you’re surprised.

Coriolanus Snow is dressed in a dark blue suit, his white hair is combed back. There’s a beard on his face, also dawned in white. Caspian told you that Coriolanus was just as old as Mags, maybe a few years younger. Honestly, you’ve never seen him up close before, only in pictures in passing.

He sits up straight, as if a stick has been shoved up his ass. With his attitude, you wouldn’t be surprised if it were true. Looking at his face alone, you can see that he holds the Erudite arrogance with pride. Not a surprise, the Erudite think they’re better because they can score higher on tests.

To his left sits a man in a black suit with a white undershirt, Haymitch Abernathy. He’s the leader of Candor, with unkempt curly dark hair, and purple bags underneath his eyes. He’s not sat up as straight, he’s slouched in his chair, arms lazily crossed on the table. He’s as old as Damon, middle-aged. You wouldn’t be surprised if Haymitch had kids.

Amity’s representative, Elysia Petalsong, sits to Haymitch’s left. Every time you see her again, you can’t help but picture her during Mox’s Choosing Ceremony. She had looked younger then, she’s older now. Not as old as Haymitch and Damon, though. Elysia wears a red dress, gold bracelets line her wrists, with one heart locket necklace around her neck. Her dark hair falls in waves over her shoulders, hands are in her lap, and you can imagine her legs are crossed in a tilt.

There’s only one Abnegation leader sitting at the table, directly across from Coriolanus Snow. At first, he doesn’t turn to face you all, it’s only when Mags has already taken her seat next to Coriolanus, to his right, does the man finally look over to greet you four.

Your eyes lock for only a second, but it’s the longest second of your life.

Reed sits with confidence, hands laced and on the table in front of him. He looks so much like your father like this, that it’s insane. He’s finally grown into his body, his face more matured. You’re sure that if he stood up, that he’d be a couple of inches taller now.

You haven’t seen him in a long time.

His eyes stay just long enough to remember your face, before looking over the actual leaders of your faction. With the way that they’re sitting down, from oldest to youngest, you’re going to be stuck sitting next to him. You don’t know if you can do that. 

You don’t think he’s even realized it’s you yet.

Caspian notices your hesitance, and takes the seat closest to Reed, leaving the one next to Damon open. You take the spot quickly, wondering how Reed had somehow convinced Abnegation that he was a leader that was fit for them.

Abnegation has a history of picking people that don’t want to be leaders. Mostly because if the person they’ve elected doesn't want the power, then they’re less likely to get out of control. You don’t think Reed is after power, you’re just confused on how he became well-known enough to end up here.

Actually, you take that back. You know why he’s well-known, you said so yourself on the way here. The Gallows family is far from perfect when it comes to Abnegation standards. Then again, shouldn’t that be a drawback on why he shouldn’t be elected? 

Amon, Naida’s husband, must’ve recommended Reed.

“There’s four of you.” Coriolanus says, as if it isn’t obvious.

Mags clears her throat, “She’s a leader-in-training at the moment, she’ll replace my position when the time comes.”

Coriolanus stares at you longer than you wish he would. 

You sit up, deciding that you might as well push for the meeting to get started. This is more important to you, than to anyone else, “You said that you’re developing a serum that’ll help with security?” you ask.

“Yes, that’s right.” He says, eyebrows drawing in.

“What is it going to do?” you lean your head against your hand.

“To put it into simple terms, it’s a tracking device.” 

Elysia lets out a noise that sounds like a scoff, sitting up in her chair, “What would we need tracking devices for?”

“It would be a precaution, let’s say a person goes missing. We could then activate the transmitter, and find the person without any worry.” He says this with a wave of his hand, as if the idea isn’t a bad one.

However, you can find a hundred different reasons why this is a bad idea. 

“People don’t go missing often enough to need tracking devices, though,” you squint at him, “In fact, when people do go missing, they’re often found the same day, alive.”

“It doesn’t have to be used for that scenario exclusively,” he says, “What about a wanted criminal that hides among the factionless?”

Reed is the next to go rigid, “If you’re implying that the factionless are the cause for most crimes, you’re wrong.”

“You work with them all day, of course you’d say that,” Coriolanus says back, “You don’t see them the same way that the rest of us do.”

“And how’s that?” Reed asks, “They’re human, they deserve to be treated as such.”

“Settle,” Elysia says, placing her hand on the table, “Coriolanus isn’t far off with the second use.”

“I have a question,” you start, “if this comes to life, Erudite will be in charge of the tracking information?”

“Yes,” he says.

You shake your head, “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“How?” Coriolanus asks.

Caspian’s face twists, “Because Dauntless is in charge of security.”

“I’m sure that you all do a good job doing that, but it’ll be easier for the Erudite to navigate a system they already know. You’d have to teach your people how to use it, which will be time consuming.”

The four of you have different reactions to what he said.

Damon jumps into the conversation, asking, “What do you mean by ‘your people’?”

Mags has her lips drawn into a tight line, glaring at Coriolanus. While you and Caspian have two different points to bring up. Caspian’s the first to blurt out, “We have plenty of time to learn a new system. More than enough!”

You shake your head, “What do you think we do each time you give us a new way to monitor the city? We’re always relearning the technology you give us, so how is this any different?” Coriolanus opens his mouth to speak, you hold your finger up, “Also, if we let you take control of the tracking devices, it defeats the purpose of Dauntless being the primary resource for security.

“We patrol the walls, we supply your police officers, firefighters, and construction workers. We have cameras all around the city, always watching to make sure that you’re safe. So why wouldn’t we be allowed to have this resource? You’re not making any sense when you speak.”

Coriolanus is measured, “Tell me, does your head of security know the ins and outs of the system?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?” He raises his eyebrows.

“If you’re referring to all the secrets that you hid within the programs, yes we found those,” you tilt your head, “He found those years ago, during his first week of training beneath people that had been working with that set of technology that you provided, for years.”

Coriolanus doesn’t speak immediately, “It would be faster access if the system were inside Erudite headquarters. Dauntless is too far away.”

“That’s why the calls would go directly to us.” Caspian says, “There would be no middle man.”

“How do you plan on distributing it? Especially when it comes to the factionless, who don’t necessarily like Erudite.” you raise your eyebrows, waiting.

Reed lets out a breath through his nose, “Coriolanus will probably ask us to do it, since the factionless are more keen to the Abnegation because of how often we help them.”

Coriolanus is hesitating, “That’s not true.”

“You’re lying.” Haymitch says, finally joining the conversation, “And you’re hiding something.”

The Candor aren’t always the best company to have around, but you’re extremely glad that Haymitch is here. Otherwise, you’d go in circles with Coriolanus all day and not get anywhere.

“What color is the serum?” you finally ask.

Coriolanus’ face twists, “Orange-brown, why?”

You grit your teeth, shaking your head at him. A small laugh escapes you when you fall back against the chair.

“What is it?” Elysia asks.

You look at Mags, “Can I speak as a leader?”

She doesn’t nod right away, like she’s waiting for an explanation. When it doesn’t come out immediately, she goes ahead and gives you permission.

You look at Coriolanus, “One more time, you’re telling me it’s colored, correct?”

“Yes--”

You cut him off before the word is completed, “Dauntless rejects the serum. If it were a tracking device, it wouldn’t be colored. Colored serums contain transmitters inside, and transmitters are used to induce hallucinations.”

Silence sweeps the table. It’s especially heavy on Coriolanus’ part, because he’s not jumping to correct your statement. You’re right.

“How do you know this?” Reed asks.

You look right at him, “Finnick, our head of security, gave me questions to ask to make sure that the serum wouldn’t be anything dangerous to work with,” your eyes switch to Coriolanus, “Or a wolf in sheep’s clothing.”

“What would you need another hallucination serum for?” Elysia asks, “The couple that Dauntless has works just fine, doesn’t it?”

“Yes.” Damon says, “They do.”

Coriolanus is waving his hand, “Forget it, we’ll trash the serum entirely.”

You don’t trust him. If the serum is so far developed that he would call a meeting for it, then it’s practically ready to use. Why would he just throw it all away? At best, he’s probably going to set it aside to use later.

“Are we finished?” Elysia asks, “It’s an important week in Amity.”

“I think so.” Haymitch says, he’s already gotten to his feet, “A waste of time, if you ask me.”

You don’t miss the glare that Haymitch sends to Coriolanus. A few steps after Haymitch is Elysia, also eager to leave as soon as possible. Reed gets to his feet, opening the door for them. In the hallway waiting is the receptionist, her hands tied in front of her.

She perks up, “Anyone else?”

Coriolanus rises from the table with the four of you, heading to walk out of the room before the rest of you, “Are you an Erudite transfer?”

“No, I was raised in Abnegation.” you snap, quiet when you say the next part, “I just know that the Erudite has a history for not telling the whole truth.”

He doesn’t get mad like you wished he would. He lets out a small laugh, placing his hand on your shoulder, then he leaves the room. You squeeze your fists, wanting to punch the back of his head.

“You four, too?” the receptionist asks.

“Actually, I was hoping I’d get to talk to (Y/n).” Reed says, your eyes flash to him.

So he did recognize you, he just decided not to say anything during the meeting.

“Okay, what about you three?” 

“We’ll stay up here and wait.” Damon says, he’s looking between you and Reed. He’s probably trying to remember if your name was mentioned at all. It wasn’t, he’s not going crazy.

“This will only be a moment,” Reed says, “Excuse us.”

With you still inside of the room, Reed goes to shut the door. Right before it closes, you can see Caspian lean over, probably telling Damon that the two of you are related, that’s how you know each other. The door clicks shut.

You feel like you’re standing too close to Reed, so you move back a little.

“(Y/n),” Reed says, a slight smile appears on his face, “You’ve grown up. I think you’re a little bit taller, too. How are you?”

You squeeze your hands again, jaw setting. To think that Reed has the fucking audacity to speak to you like this, like you’re still on good terms. ‘You’ve grown up’? Is that really how he wants to play this?

“Good,” you start, trying to sound light, “I think Finnick might propose soon, and within the next month I should become a leader of Dauntless. How’s Alyssum?”

The Finnick part is true, the two of you have begun to settle in more. He’s got a handle of security, you’re finally going to have your job down. There wouldn’t be a reason not to. Plus, he’s been acting a little more anxious lately, which isn’t like him.

Reed gives you a funny smile, “She’s in first grade now, she looks a lot like our mother. Alyssum reminds me a lot of you, in some ways.”

“Oh, so does that mean you’re actually telling her that Mox and I exist? Or are you brainwashing her?”

His face twists, “What are you talking about?”

This, the feigned ignorance, makes you angry.

“Well, after Mox transferred to Amity, we never spoke about him again. Much less, went to see him on his Visiting Day. And since you didn’t come to see me either, I figured that you were giving me the same treatment.”

Reed doesn’t say anything back.

“Mox is doing great, by the way. Unlike you, he came to see me during my initiation. Back then, he had a wife and a daughter, now he has a son, too.” you glare, “Mox broke Amity rules to see me, because he knew that you wouldn’t get over yourself to do it.”

He stares, still not speaking.

“You know, Alyssum will end up leaving you, too. I wonder if you’ll finally have the heart to forgive her when the time comes.”

“You can speak to me like that, but I know that if it weren’t for me staying in Abnegation, you three would’ve been put in a foster home,” he says, “My aptitude result wasn’t Abnegation, it was Erudite.”

You grit your teeth harder, body heating up, “Congrats, Reed. We should throw a whole parade for you for being such a good little son by staying with dad after mom died. Should I give you a round of applause while I’m at it?” you snap, hand wrapping around the doorknob. You’re ready to leave, “You aren’t respectable in the slightest. It’s not even impressive that you stayed in a faction you don’t belong in--want to know why?”

Reed is staring at you with a familiar neutral expression. The one that every adult in Abnegation has down, to the very last detail. It’s where they all go to hide to avoid showing the emotion that’s boiling underneath. You’re glad you could get under his skin, like he had picked at you for years.

“Because my result was Abnegation, but you’re so fucking insufferable that I couldn’t stay any longer.” you lean in, “I used to regret transferring, and leaving you behind, but this has been one big reminder on why I did it. So, thank you, Reed. I can finally sleep soundly knowing that you haven’t changed in the fucking slightest!”

You open the door, fully aware that Caspian, Damon and Mags just heard everything you said. It turns out that the receptionist has heard too, because she’s standing stiffly, mouth slightly agape.

“You okay?” Caspian asks.

“I don’t regret a single word.” 

--

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

add yourself to the TAGLIST

When it comes to funerals, Abnegation and Dauntless are on opposite sides of the spectrum. So much so, that it feels like whiplash.

In Abnegation, you had gone to two funerals, both belonging to your family. They’re a quiet occasion, family friends gather to support the deceased’s family. Since it takes a lot of organization to get a plot and bury people, there are no idle hands. And when it came to you, Reed, Mox and Alyssum, a lot needed to be done to the house in order to make it less painful to look at.

It was cleaned, furniture moved, belongings boxed up and gotten ready for donation. Your mother couldn’t wear jewelry, besides the wedding and engagement rings, the former being buried with her and the latter being set aside. It would be the only object of value that Reed would be allowed to have, and it’s because it’s a heirloom.

The Abnegation don’t drink, so everyone is sober. If people talk, it’s quiet and it’s not about themselves, it’s mindless conversations to keep the room from falling silent. Once it does, it stays that way because no one will want to disturb the others by breaking it.

The first funeral you’d been to was for your mother, and all memories of the occasion have been blocked out for years. If you try hard enough, the most you can remember is standing in the kitchen with Naida as she helped you make dinner. There were a few other people that were in the same room, but you remember Naida the most. She hadn’t left your side the entire night.

As for the second, it wasn’t as much as a hands-on experience. You’re sure that Naida kept you busy the first time around because she didn’t want you to get upset. If you’re cooking food for others with a knife in your hand, you won’t be letting your mind wander as much.

Honestly, you think Reed sat you down in the living room and told you to stay put while he and the others went through your father’s belongings in front of you. You watched Reed save a couple of shirts for Mox, thinking that he would stay for Abnegation initiation, if only he knew that Mox would be leaving only a few weeks later.

You asked for a shirt at some point, mostly wanting to savor some smell, some memory that belonged to your father. Reed told you that there was no need for you to have it, and you were sure that later on, when everyone was gone, that he would reprimand you for it. Instead, he handed over one of the shirts that he had saved for himself. The two of you never talked about it after that.

Dauntless is the opposite of this. Thyme’s body was discovered around midnight this morning, and the funeral is already being held for her. Apparently they want to acknowledge death as soon as possible. It doesn’t matter that she wasn’t a member yet, it doesn’t matter if no one knew who she was, it’s an occasion for everyone.

The Pit is loud this evening, roaring laughter, kids running around, shouting. There’s a strong smell of alcohol coming from everywhere. No matter who you talk to in passing--most of them being condolences, because they don’t know whether or not you were her friend--they’re drunk. 

You’re not sure which faction’s traditions you prefer more, it just feels all wrong. They think Thyme killed herself, so Dauntless is trying to celebrate the life she did live while she was here. Yet, you fucking threw her over a railing and framed it that way. And here you are, standing amongst the crowd, pretending that you hadn’t done it.

In Abnegation, the quiet talking was so impossible to sit through that you wanted to scream. You wanted someone to speak louder than a whisper, break the silence and defy the ideals for once. You wanted to cry, you wanted to hold onto your parent’s belongings, and most of all, you wanted everyone to go away.

You squeeze your hands into fists, staring straight ahead at Caspian, who’s talking to the other two leaders and your trainers in a circle. It looks like they’re getting ready to say something to all of you. You’re not sure what they would say for her, besides the fact that she was a fucking monster.

You’re so conflicted, to feel guilty or not to feel guilty. You keep telling yourself that it was justified, and you have to get over the ‘Abnegation ideals’ part because you’re not in Abnegation anymore. You’re a couple days away from being an official member of Dauntless, and you’re still hung up on differences. You had to save yourself, otherwise you might be missing at the moment, and everyone would be required to forget you ever existed. 

A hand squeezes your shoulder, making you look over with a glare. Finnick is standing next to you, frowning as he looks you over, “You’re tense.”

You roll your shoulders, trying to stand taller, “I can’t help it.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay in the dormitory? I could make an excuse for you.” he says, there’s a crease between his eyebrows.

“Keep making that face and you’ll have a permanent wrinkle there,” you say, looking back at Caspian. You think you’ll let Finnick figure out the fact that there’s one already formed by himself.

Caspian stares at you without expression for a few seconds. He has to look away to respond to something Damon says, letting the smile reach his eyes. You watch him separate from the group after that, going to the railing to climb on top of a box.

No one seems to notice this, and it’s only when he yells, “Quiet, please!” do they begin to take notice. Some sort of bell is hit after his words, and silence overcomes the Pit immediately. Everyone is standing near the ledge, looking up or down at Caspian to hear what he has to say, “Thank you. This evening, we are gathered because an initiate, Thyme, had jumped into the chasm yesterday afternoon.”

You can hear the sound of the rushing water. If you try hard enough, you can feel the wind blowing in your face, or the water raining down on you as you hang by your fingers to prove you belong in Dauntless. 

“We don’t know why, and it would be easy to mourn the loss of her tonight. However, we did not choose an easy life when we became members of Dauntless. The truth of it is, Thyme is now in an unknown place, forever exploring.” he motions to the chasm, “She jumped into dangerous waters to get there. Who among us is brave enough to do that without knowing what lies beyond life?

“Thyme wasn’t one of us, not yet. But I can confidently say that she was one of our bravest!” Caspian yells, words echoing in your ears. They’re gone as soon as the cheers erupt around you, agreeing with what he said. They don’t know that he’s lying through his teeth, “We will celebrate her today and remember her forever!”

You hope not.

Damon and Mags join either side of the box, with Damon handing him a dark bottle to have. Without a moment of hesitation, he thrusts it into the air, some of the liquid spilling out the top when he does, “To Thyme!”

“To Thyme!” The crowd shouts back, it begins to fizzle into a chant.

You begin to feel sick.

You press the back of your hand to your forehead, eyes still watching Caspian. He gives a wide grin, presses the bottle to his lips, and begins to drink the entire thing. Damon and Mags follow suit, sort-of. They aren’t as quick with it, but the three of them finish the bottles. Caspian gets off of the box, and begins to talk to someone else.

“I think I’m going to lay down after all.” you say, rubbing your forehead before looking at Finnick.

“Mind if I come with you?” he asks.

“Of course not.”

--

The height difference between Laurel and Pleurisy is more noticeable now that they’re standing next to each other. At the beginning of initiation, you vaguely remember some difference, but they split when they took their separate groups. Not to mention, you weren’t really paying attention to them, more of the fact that you were in the Dauntless headquarters.

They stand in front of you initiates, outside of a new room that they were calling the ‘fear landscape room’, it’s in the glass building that’s above the Pit. When you asked Laurel what you’d be doing today, the only thing she bothered to tell you was that today you’d get a glimpse of what the final stage will look like. Technically, stage two was complete immediately after the progress rankings had been posted.

“Okay!” Pleurisy shouts, catching attention.

With Eytelle and Allio still acting weird, you made sure that they ended up standing in front of you. Which was difficult, because you didn’t realize how often they typically stand behind Trink and Lennox. You swear that they used to walk in front of you and Trink all the time, but that must have changed when Trink and Lennox came around.

So, you stand in the far back with Finnick, Blaire, and Cass. The boys can easily look over the heads of all the other giant Dauntless-born, you and Cass are stuck readjusting every now and then to make sure you can just barely see through shoulders and necks. Cass definitely has it a lot worse than you though, you can hear her sigh through her nose each time someone gets in her way.

“Most of you will have about ten to fifteen fears, which is the average number. However, you will not be finding out that number today, because the simulation is set to share between our fear landscapes. Which means that you will be experiencing Laurel and I’s fears, not your own.

“This is different from last year, not that it really affects you, because I don’t fear enough things to successfully put all of you through a unique fear without repetition, same thing goes for Laurel, that’s why we have to combine us.” She straightens up.

“Having said that, last year I was afraid of pain, being choked to death, public speaking, natural disasters, having imperfections being pointed out, driving a car, getting into a car accident, and drowning.”

Laurel nods, “You could also get stuck with mine, which are mannequins, germs, thunder, holes, religion or witchcraft, snakes, confined spaces and suffocation.”

“What’s the lowest number anyone has gotten?” Cass asks, causing a few people to look back.

“Five.” Laurel says.

Pleurisy continues, “Again, you will not be going through the entire landscape with all fifteen of our fears. You will only get one to understand how the simulation works.”

Pleurisy assigns the fears, staring with the people in front. Once assigned a fear, the person will join Laurel, who went inside the room to get the machine started. With you, Finnick, Cass and Blaire being in the back row, you four will be going last in the simulation.

“Blaire has car driving, Cass has witchcraft and religion, Finnick has public speaking, and…” Pleurisy’s eyes land on you, “(Y/n) has drowning.”

As you five head toward the doorway, Blaire turns to her, “Can I trade my fear?”

Pleurisy makes a face.

“I don’t know how to drive,” Blaire reasons.

Cass snorts, you hide a smile.

“The only one left is getting in a car accident, would you prefer that one?” Pleurisy asks.

“Am I still in control of the car?”

Finnick lets out a laugh, you shove him inside of the room, Cass giggling behind you. Blaire is shouting at you three to shut up, and that it’s not funny. 

Since you guys aren’t hooked up to the computer, you aren’t allowed to see the actual simulation. You can see the reactions that your fellow initiates are having to it, though. So, you all sit together on the floor and take turns guessing what the inside of the simulations are going to look like.

The numbers dwindle faster than you thought they would. Lennox tries to keep his balance, blocking his head during the earthquake. Trink sits on the floor, knees pulled to her chest like she’s stuck in a box, Eytelle grasps at her neck while she gets choked to death. Each time someone comes out of the simulation, they say that it wasn’t as bad as they thought it would be.

It’s quick, too, but it must be because it’s not their own fears. You can imagine once you’re inside your own fear landscape, especially during the fears you’ll be seeing for the first time, it’ll be a lot harder. If you put together your times for just the first three you know, it comes out to nine minutes or so. 

Compared to everyone else, who apparently take fifteen minutes just to get through one fear alone. Then again, the times they posted on the progress rankings were the first times you’d been through them. They could have improved in some way since then.

“Blaire, you should probably sit down.” Pleurisy tells him, he stands in the middle of the room, “You’ll end up falling over, I’ve seen it plenty of times.”

He lowers himself to the floor, letting his legs stay in front of him. Pleurisy lowers down to his height, inserts the needle into his neck, pushes the plunger, and stands back up.

“Are you nervous?” Trink asks, she looks to you, Cass and Finnick.

Cass gives a half-hearted shrug, “I mean, I’m not religious, so is it really going to bother me?”

“I’m not either,” Laurel says, she sounds distant because she’s trying to watch Blaire, “I only say religion because the religious initiates get witchcraft and the non-religious initiates can get either of them.”

She stares, “Have you ever met an initiate that was into witchcraft?”

“Not in recent years.” Pleurisy jabs her thumb towards Laurel, “But she kinda counts, doesn’t she?”

Laurel has her eyes closed to focus, yet she doesn’t miss Pleurisy’s head when she shoves her arm in front of her. Pleurisy’s laugh is high, mischievous as she sends your group a wink, going back to focusing on Blaire, whose face is scrunched up, looking around him.

“What about you two?” she turns her attention.

“It’s public speaking.” Finnick says, “Isn’t everyone a little afraid of speaking in front of large crowds?”

You nod a bit, “It’s never enough to actually be a fear, though.”

“Must be the pressure.” Lennox agrees.

Before you can give Trink your own response, Ameer and Mirza look toward you, stopping the conversation they were just having. Ameer raises an eyebrow, making a face that you recognize as mockery. The Erudite kids at school would make the same expression.

“We’ll finally get to see if (Y/n) isn’t cheating after all.” the words slip through his mouth smoothly, like he’s been waiting for this opportunity.

Great, because you’ve been waiting for this, too.

In a rush, you wind your arm back and slam it across his mouth. The familiar pain tingles across your knuckles, reminding you that they’re not fully healed from your battle with Allio. You grip your hand, hissing through your teeth.

Finnick suddenly jerks in front of you, his hand catching the retaliation that was coming your way. The skin over his knuckles are white, and the look he gives Mirza is pure murder. You hadn’t even realized that Mirza was going to get payback if it went the wrong way.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Sydney asks, her voice loud. It finally catches Pleurisy’s attention, making her look away from Blaire, who’s looking a little green. Sydney shoves Ameer’s shoulder to get him away from her, “I don’t fucking feel bad for you, you deserved that.”

“Sydney, don’t provoke them,” Nestor moves away, pulling her with him.

“What happened?” Pleurisy asks.

“Let me go.” Mirza seethes.

“I should break your fucking wrist for aiming for her nose.” Finnick snaps back, not letting go. He bends Mirza’s arm up to look like a flex.

Ameer’s got his hand over his jaw, rubbing gently, glaring at you.

You lean forward, “Don’t act like this is my fault!”

“You punched me!” Ameer suddenly shouts back.

Pleurisy’s eyes narrow, “What happened?” she repeats, the lighthearted tone is gone.

“You can’t play the fucking victim!” you yell, “You baited me into it!”

Mirza yanks at his wrist, “I will punch you.”

“Go ahead.” Finnick deadpans, “I won three of my fights, what about you?”

“Two.” Cass coughs.

Laurel’s taken off her wires, Blaire’s blinking in confusion on the floor. She heads towards the group, standing Sydney and Nestor as she analyzes the situation. Her presence alone is enough to make the couple look up to check who it is.

“I didn’t do anything!” Ameer says, “It was a joke!”

“A joke?” you repeat, “A joke? You wanna know what a fucking joke is? Your fucking rankings even though you two are the sons of a goddamn Dauntless leader, that’s a fucking joke.”

Neither of the twins move.

“That’s enough,” Laurel says, “What happened?”

Blaire appears between Pleurisy and Laurel, looking down at you all. How everyone is sitting away from Ameer and Mirza like they’re a plague. How Finnick’s got a tight grip on Mirza’s wrist and refuses to let go. The fact that Ameer is holding his jaw, and you’re holding your hand.

“Ameer--” Finnick starts.

“No, I don’t want to hear it from anyone who was involved.” Laurel says, “Cass, go.”

She sits up a little, “Trink asked us if we were nervous and before (Y/n) could say anything, Ameer basically said that (Y/n) was cheating, and then she punched him. Mirza then tried to punch her, but Finnick stopped him.”

“Let me go!” Mirza’s pissed.

“You can let him go now, Finnick. Thank you.” Laurel says, Finnick opens his hand.

Like a magnet, Finnick moves towards you after.

“Any accusations of cheating on Initiation Day will result in immediate failure, is that understood?” Laurel says, staring down at Ameer and Mirza.

“You can’t do that.” Mirza says, “Only the Dauntless leaders can make decisions like that.”

Laurel crouches down, all you can think about is how she did this exact same thing when Trink tried to challenge her. With her arms resting on her legs, she tilts her head, “When I get Caspian’s approval for it, you’ll be the first I tell.” she presses her hands to her knees, getting to her feet, “Go sit against that wall, and pretend that you’re in time-out while you’re at it, since you want to act like children.”

They follow her instructions, then she turns to Cass, “Your turn.”

“Sure.” she says, moving.

And finally, Laurel looks at you, “I issued a warning about fighting, you were there for it, yes?”

“Yes.” you say.

“You aren’t an exception.” she says.

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t do it again.” 

Laurel goes back to the computer, Pleurisy looks over the group one more time, a glance to Ameer and Mirza, and says, “We should put Finnick and (Y/n) on the other wall.”

“Ameer and Mirza provoked them to get a reaction.” Laurel says simply.

Pleurisy gives a nod, turning back to give Cass her injection. 

You flex your fingers, wincing when the pain gets worse.

“How does your hand feel?” Finnick asks, reaching out to grab it.

You place your palm on top of his, gritting your teeth, “Hurts like a bitch.”

“We should go get it checked out during lunch.” Finnick says, you nod.

Sydney suddenly scoots closer, “(Y/n), I’m so sorry, I really thought that they were over the whole hallway thing--”

You smile at her, “Sydney, you’re not a mind-reader. Why are you apologizing?”

A loud gasp leaves your mouth when Finnick begins to massage your knuckles. You grab his shoulder with your other hand, “Ouch, Finnick!”

Blaire takes a seat to your right, “You okay?”

“Fine, it’s just my hand. I’m lucky that Finnick grabbed Mirza, otherwise I’d have a broken nose again.” you look at Finnick again, “Thank you, by the way.”

He gives you a soft smile.

Cass makes it through Pleurisy’s fear with little to no problem. The most notable moment out of it all, was when she was standing with her head tilted back, pure confusion on her face. She didn’t say much after, only that she thinks she got religion, and it was weird to go through.

Finnick’s is much funnier to watch. He faces you, standing straight up, arms resting on nothing, he looks like he’s holding note cards in his hands. You’re all immediately amused when he started reading from the cards, sentences not making sense. He definitely didn’t realize at first, it was only when he held up the notecards to his face, the crease appearing between his eyebrows, did he really see.

It was a second later he came out of the simulation, looking at Pleurisy like he had many questions. She just shrugged, fears can be impractical.

And now it’s your turn.

You stand facing everyone, butterflies rising and falling in your chest each time you think about them seeing you go through Laurel’s fear. What if they see the way you work through things, and realize that you’re different from them? What if it’s so painfully obvious that Laurel and Pleurisy have to yank you from the simulation?

You take a deep breath, trying not to form fists with your hands.

Pleurisy appears at your side, preparing to inject the serum. You wonder where Laurel got the idea of drowning, anyway. There’s no large bodies of water inside of the walls, only remnants. The only place you can kinda see why is the marsh, where you all went for the paintball match. It’s around the carousel, but the water is completely drained.

Maybe you’ll be stuck face-down in a puddle or something.

The needle breaks the skin on your neck, you squeeze your eyes shut.

“Ten seconds.” Pleurisy says, you can hear her move away.

You count them down in your head, and open your eyes at nine. The scenery has already begun changing around you. There’s a wooden structure beneath your feet, almost like a bridge but you think it’s called a dock. In front of you, is water as far as the eye can see, beneath you as well. The sun is high, you can feel the heat on the top of your head. 

You inch forward, toward the end of the dock, wondering how deep the water is. This is the type of body that you were talking about. You think that the history textbooks said something about the marsh being deep before the water evaporated. If this sea is huge, then you can only imagine how deep it gets, especially towards the middle.

You have one foot on the edge, slowly leaning forward to look down. The water peeks out from beneath the wood, your reflection showing up as well. It’s distorted, each time the water moves, your face takes on different shapes. The water is dark, so you can’t see the bottom at all.

You go to stand back up, your curiosity being satisfied. Two hands stop you, firmly shoving you back the direction you’re coming from. With you already being off-balance, all you can do is flail around, trying to catch your balance. You lose the battle, and end up falling parallel to the water.

Instinct takes over, hands sticking out to catch yourself as if the liquid is solid, but you slam right into it, and sink.

And realize that you don’t know how to swim.

You begin kicking, fighting to stay close to the surface. The temperature of water alone was enough to steal your air, now that you have to work your body, it’s so much worse. You try to use your arms too, but the water slips right through your fingers, adjusting to your disturbance.

One hard kick is all it takes to get your head above water long enough to take in a few deep breaths. You swear that you’re getting a hang of it, when you seemingly start sinking again, the water coming from nowhere. Each time you seem to gain an inch, another five is added onto it. It’s like you aren’t even sinking, it’s just that the water is rising.

Your throat burns, muscles aching from the amount of power you’re putting into the kicks. You just want to reach the surface, another breath of air before you can sink again.

As time passes, tiny spots take their time eating away at the corner of your vision, reminding you that you have to breathe eventually, or your body will do it for you. You don’t know what to do, keep swimming up? The dock is underwater now, you can see it clearly. This isn’t helping.

You press the heels of your hands against your temples, squeezing your eyes shut. You wish you had some air, it would be easier to think if you weren’t thinking about needing to breathe. It’s like a loud alarm in your head, as if you don’t already know what situation you’re in.

After another second, the gears begin turning, particularly after you think of how Finnick reacted to his fear. The way he had looked at the note cards, confused but calm, and he came out immediately after. That means that this fear landscape works exactly the same way as the fear-facing simulation that you went through, right? Which means that all you have to do is calm down.

That’s easier said than done. You can hardly see anything around you, the lightheadedness is impossible to work around. You’re not sure you can hang on much longer.

You have to remember that this isn’t real.

You stop fighting the water, allowing yourself to suspend, hands curling into tight fists. 

You breathe out the air that you had left, watching the bubbles appear and skyrocket to the top of the water. If only you were inside of it, or could grasp onto it without it forming tinier bubbles.

You begin to sink, you can feel your body cutting through the water. How it caresses the exposed skin on your body, forces your hair above you. No matter what happens, you don’t release your fists. Not even as the pressure rises, building pain against your temple until your head feels like it’s going to explode. Your ears pop, water flooding in.

You squeeze your eyes shut, and breathe in.

Instantly, you’re outside of the simulation, gasping for air. The first breath in is too much, harsh against your throat. You cough, hand slamming against your chest as you curl over, struggling to come back. 

You turn your head to Laurel, seeing the wires in her hands.

“What--?” you begin, the scratchiness of your throat makes you begin coughing again, you punch your thigh, trying to combat the pain in your hand and throat. Once you seemingly get a hold of your breathing again, you try with a softer voice, “What’s my time?”

Laurel looks at you, “Four minutes.”

Not bad, considering you think you just discovered a new fear of yours.

--

When you were still in Abnegation, you only attended their initiation once, and it was for Reed. The entire process is quiet, the initiates spend thirty days performing community service before they can officially become members. On the final day, they all sit side by side on a bench while one of the older members reads the Abnegation manifesto about forgetting oneself and the dangers of self-involvement. After, all the older members wash the initiates’ feet, and then they all share a meal, each person serving the person to their left.

You’re not entirely sure what you expected from Dauntless on Initiation Day, but you know that absolute chaos wasn’t an ideal in mind, at all. The entire Pit is crawling with people, more packed than it was for Thyme’s funeral. They’re all drinking again, only this time, the smell of the alcohol isn’t nearly as awful as before.

Working together, you, Finnick, Blaire and a few others manage to get inside of the dining hall without losing each other. And by some miracle, there’s only one open table in the far corner. It’s far too loud inside of the room to actually hold a conversation without shouting, so you’re stuck with your thoughts while you eat.

Normally, it’s half as loud as this. The Dauntless might be rowdy, but there’s always some sense of order. You can’t yell over this noise unless you’re prepared to ruin your vocal cords in the process. Sydney and Nestor try to talk into each other’s ears, it’s just really not working.

If it weren’t for Ameer and Mirza, you’d all grab lunch here and go back to the dormitory to eat. However, they seem to have joined the ‘(Y/n) Hate Group’ that Eytelle and Allio have recently formed. You were hoping that after Thyme, you’d never have to deal with this again. You can’t catch a break, though, not even if you beg.

Trink, Lennox and Horace are with them at the moment, trying to talk some sense into the four of them. You’re not too sure that it’ll work, once people have their minds set on something, it’s practically impossible to change it. Unless, of course, you go ahead and place them face to face with death. That’s the way it worked with Thyme. You wouldn’t be surprised if your club held this grudge for the rest of their miserable lives.

And unfortunately, since today isn’t a regular training day, you’re left to do whatever you want, until the scheduled time for the initiation begins. Which means that the club will have the dormitory all to themselves, while the rest of you are stuck trying to find a quiet place to hide where no one will come around and find you.

It’s not like you didn’t try wasting time, either. You slept in until your body told you that it couldn’t do it anymore, you took your time getting ready with the others. The six of you took the long way to the dining hall, and even after eating for thirty minutes, your watch says you still have two whole hours to burn before you need to be in the fear landscape room.

You half-expect the six of you to sit at this table for as long as possible, or till someone forces to you give it up to others, but Blaire’s face lights up. He taps the center of the table, catching your attention, and jerks his head to the door, indicating to get up and leave. Without anything else to do, you all follow.

You realize where you’re going about halfway through the trip. The party room.

“Hopefully the microphone is still here.” Blaire says, turning back to look at you guys, “I thought that Maarja would’ve taken it out or something, but if it was here when you two were, maybe she forgot about it.”

You share a look with Finnick, “Maybe.”

You don’t know if it’s in there, you didn’t even bother to go inside and double-check that it was there after you lied to Trink and Blaire on the way to see Thyme’s body. For all you know, Maarja could’ve taken the microphone and speaker after the party, and she won’t think to cover your asses if someone ends up asking about it. 

Although, you’re pretty sure you’ll be able to come up with an even bigger lie, but that’s really going to end up building an unhealthy pyramid. What happens when it falls? You lose all the trust of the few friends that you made during initiation. You’ll be back to square one, with only Finnick by your side.

Blaire opens the door to the room, it’s pitch black inside. His hand fumbles along the wall until he finds the lightswitch. Upon flipping it, colored lights fill the room, and you’re able to see that a lot was left behind after the party. There’s a box by the door with the original light bulbs. Some tables are still by the wall, others are knocked over. On the far side of the room, though, the speaker is still attached to the microphone.

You all file in, with Cass being the final one to shut the door behind her. 

“I’ll get it working!” Sydney sings, skipping over to the machine.

“What are we even going to do?” Finnick asks, heading over to the tables.

“Mess around, I don’t know. It’s a lot quieter here, so it’s easier to talk.” Blaire shrugs.

“It wasn’t a bad idea.” you say to Blaire, giving him a smile, “I think I might take a nap, though.”

“Where?” Cass asks.

A loud squeal follows her question, the noise coming from the microphone and speaking. The more it goes on, the higher the pitch gets. You watch Nestor clamp his hands over his ears, wincing because he’s so close. Sydney’s got the same face, pressing random buttons until the noise stops.

Your ears are ringing.

She holds the mic up to her mouth, “Is this working?” the words echo, and she cheers.

“Anyway,” you look at Cass, giving her a shrug, “I don’t know, but I haven’t been sleeping very well. And I don’t really want to be awful during initiation.”

“As if that’s possible!” Sydney shouts, “Let’s go number one!”

Her, Nestor, and Blaire all shout in agreement. You give them a polite smile, rolling your eyes as you head over to the middle of the room. Nestor flips a table, Sydney places the speaker on the floor next to it, and then climbs on top of the table, holding the mic in her hand. Nestor sits next to her, leaning back on his hands while his legs dangle.

Blaire settles for the floor, sitting next to you and Finnick. Cass takes another table, laying on her stomach to talk to you guys. When you go to nap on the floor itself, Finnick reminds you that a party did take place here. The floor is pretty nasty, there were a couple of sticky spots because of alcohol and crumbs of cake that no one bothered to clean up.

“Then where?” you whine, tilting your head back to look at the ceiling.

It’s quiet for a moment, Blaire’s the next one to speak, “You could put your head on his shoulder.”

“Oh, that’s a good one!” Sydney agrees, you straighten your neck to see her nodding, “I sleep on Nestor’s shoulder like that all the time.”

“It’s true.” Nestor says.

You look at Finnick, “Do you care?”

Finnick straightens up, shaking his head. You watch as he scoots closer to you, extending his arm behind you. You close the small gap between you two, leaning your head back against his shoulder. You feel tired the second your eyes close, because this position might not be the best, but it’s comfortable enough.

You let out a hum, “Thank you.”

Finnick doesn’t really respond, he places his head on top of yours. For a while, you listen to the conversation that your friends have, with the topic not staying on one thing before switching to another. They’ll laugh, Finnick has to lift his head when he does, shoulders shaking too. 

You must fall asleep sometime in the middle, with the combined warmth from Finnick, the comforting smell of cinnamon and vanilla, and the dark lights, it’s impossible not to. 

You wake as soon as Finnick starts shaking your shoulder, voice gentle, “It’s time to go.”

You lift your head, face twisting as you try to wake yourself up. You rub your eyes with the heels of your hands, yawning. Finnick’s arm disappears from behind you when he moves to get to his feet. You stay for a second longer, rolling your neck to get the ache to go away.

Finnick’s hand appears in front of you. You take a second to uncross your legs before taking his hand. He pulls you to your feet, steadying you when you stumble too far. When the two of you start toward the door, you can see that your Dauntless-born friends are gone, it’s only Trink there.

“Where’s everyone else?” you ask, looking at Finnick.

“They had to leave a little after Trink and Lennox showed up, Dauntless-borns went first, from the worst ranked to the best. They stayed as long as they could.”

You give a nod, and then a smile to Trink when she straightens up.

Finnick waits until the last possible moment before he shuts the lights off. Trink holds the door open for you two, and then joins your right side on the way to the fear landscape room.

“Feel refreshed?” Trink teases.

“Finnick’s surprisingly comfortable to sleep on, so yeah,” you laugh, they join in.

The three of you walk to the Pit first, finding the winding path that leads to the glass building above. The more you walk, the denser the crowd gets, to the point where Finnick grabs your hand in order not to lose you. No sunlight is getting through the building, every inch of the glass is covered by the soles of shoes.

With how many people are pressed together, it’s humid. Your palms begin sweating, same as Finnick, and you find yourself dabbing at your forehead with the neck of your shirt to get the sweat away. The heat makes it hard to breathe, and you try to ignore the similarities between that, and when you drowned yourself.

Eventually, there’s a break in the crowd, where you see that everyone is gathered around a series of computer monitors on the left wall. You and Finnick pause long enough to see that there’s a boy dressed in black in the fear landscape room. You have to lean forward a bit to see that it’s Lennox.

Like yesterday, you can’t actually see what fear he’s facing, only his reaction. His face is drawn straight, looking more angry than afraid. On the middle screen to the right, shows his heart rate. It jumps for a moment, and then begins to settle back down. As soon as it hits a normal rate, the screen flashes green, and cheers erupt around you. The screen on the far right shows her time.

Finnick starts walking again, pulling you along with him. Just on the inside of the room, stands Laurel and Pleurisy, giving nods at you two. The room that you practiced in yesterday must have been some random room, because this one is much larger. There’s a screen off in the room, with a line of chairs in front of it.

Most of them are occupied, you can spy Caspian’s blonde hair, Damon’s dreadlocks decorated in gold, and Mags’ wavy, grey hair. There’s more than the leaders in the seats, though. More older-looking Dauntless dressed in black have wires connected to their heads. They’re probably observing the simulation.

Further, behind them, is another line of chairs for the initiates. Everyone is sitting in them already, with you three being the exception. Trink goes ahead and takes the last one, giving you a look to make sure it’s okay. You go ahead and shrug, not really minding. You need to wake yourself up now.

“Hey, sleepyhead!” Sydney greets, giving you a wide grin and a wave, “How’s that neck feeling?”

“Not going to lie, it’s a little sore.” you give her a smile, and then a nod to Nestor and Cass, “Who’s up next?”

“Blaire, he’s the final one of us to go, too.” Nestor says, “He’s nervous, if you couldn’t tell.”

You give a glance over to him, and Nestor isn’t wrong. Blaire is leaned forward, eyebrows drawn in, leg jumping up and down. You don’t think you’ve seen him like this before.

“Don’t worry about him, he gets this way, and then does fine,” Sydney says.

“Gotcha.”

The lights in the fear landscape room lift, showing what Lennox looks like. He’s standing tall, a glisten of sweat across his forehead. You watch as Caspian, Damon and a few others take off the wires, and leave the room. A couple of seconds later, you can see them on the screen, congratulating Lennox on finishing the simulation.

Blaire stands up from his seat, rubbing his hands on his jeans.

“Good luck, Blaire!” you call.

He jumps, turning to look at you. You spark a train of others wishing him the same. His regular smile appears on his face, skin turning red. He waves you all off, looking away, but you know that the gesture went a long way.

Lennox trails behind the Dauntless leaders, giving you guys a wide smile and a fist pump when he sees you. Caspian motions for Blaire to follow him for the injection. Once the needle passes the simulation on, Blaire is sent to the fear room by himself.

Laurel suddenly claps loudly, gaining attention, “My initiates, the order in which you go through the final test was taken from your rankings as they currently stand. The worst go first, the top ranked go last. This means that Eytelle will go first, (Y/n) will be last.”

A few murmur out agreements, which is good enough for Laurel. She goes back to where she was standing at the door, resuming the conversation she was having with Pleurisy before she interrupted it.

If you’re going last, that means you’ll get to see everyone’s times before you. Which is an advantage, you’ll know how fast you need to move in order to come out on top. If you whip through the fears you already know about, it means you can take your time on the ones you don’t know about. 

Blaire gets through his simulation in eleven minutes, and he comes back into the room with a grin, joining you and Finnick, who stand behind everyone else. Eytelle drags her feet when it comes to going inside of the room, and her attitude must end up jinxing her, since she finishes in seventeen minutes.

“She’s at the bottom,” Blaire whispers to you two.

Allio does just as badly as she does, only slightly better. He comes out in sixteen and a half minutes, looking rough. Trink goes in next, holding her head high. For a moment, you can see the past Erudite in her coming out. She goes in confident, and comes out with a bright smile, in and out within twelve minutes.

It’s Finnick’s turn.

You face him, grabbing onto his arms, “You’ve got this, don’t even sweat it.”

“Thank you,” he smiles, “I’ll be right back.”

You give him a hard nod, watching as he heads over to Caspian for his injection. You cross your arms. Finnick stops in front of him, tilts his neck to the side a little, blinks when the needle enters his skin, and then moves on to the fear room.

After that, the only thing you can do is watch his reaction on the screen. You can’t see the fear he’s facing, only his movements and the way his face will twist. Off in the corner is his heart rate, which you keep track of. The moment it’ll drop into a reasonable range, you know that he’s passed one of the fears.

Finnick comes out in nine minutes.

“Fastest time today.” Blaire says, nudging your shoulder.

Finnick comes back into the room, immediately heading towards you and Blaire, “It’s so easy, (Y/n).”

Blaire’s nods furiously, “You’ve got this.”

You laugh, already sure that Finnick knows he doesn’t need to wish you luck. So it makes you wonder if it’s a warning. It’s going to be so incredibly easy for you, therefore you need to work a little harder to conceal yourself and keep your heartbeat up. Which means you can’t just race through it like you were hoping.

Caspian raises his eyebrows slightly when you approach him. You watch as he turns his back to Damon and Mags, something that he wasn’t doing before. It isn’t until he’s got the needle out, showing you the orange liquid inside, does he speak.

“Damon isn’t happy with you,” he says, you tense when the needle enters your skin, “I would apologize to the twins after initiation, even if it’s their fault.”

You don’t move until he pulls the needle out, and when you do, it’s a nod.

“Laurel wants you to remember to breathe,” Caspian says in a low voice, you raise your eyebrows, “The fears represent something, did you know that?”

You open your mouth to tell him no, yet the words get caught in your throat when you think about it. You do know that, Laurel told you that on the second day, after you watched Finnick bleed to death in the training room. You never ended up looking into it, though, you didn’t want to find the pattern. You wanted it to go away as soon as possible.

You should’ve known that her advice would be important later on.

Caspian’s reminder should be enough, “You’re good to go.” he motions, allowing you to leave.

The next room you enter smells like metal. The ground and walls are cement, but when you look up, you can see pipes running along the ceiling. You make a point to place yourself in the middle of the room, worried about wandering too far around. The room is big, so you hope that you won’t find yourself off to one side.

You take a deep breath in, and let it out slowly. 

The ground is the first to change underneath you. You stare, watching cement turn to uneven wood. It’s dark, so you know it’s not the training room, and the cracks reveal blue beneath them. Immediately, you know which fear you get the displeasure of dealing with first.

You have to drown yourself.

The thought alone gets your heart beating, you picture it on the screen outside, slowly raising to a justifiable place. How everyone is watching you right now, judging your reaction to every single thing in front of you. You’re lucky that they don’t get to see what you’re seeing exactly.

The cement walls have turned to blue skies, the pipe ceiling into fluffy white clouds. As you take a look around, trying to drag out your time above water, this time you see that the dock does lead to land. The moment you take a step towards it, wondering if you can fool the simulation, the dock increases in length, away from you.

The only option you have is the water on the other side. You wonder why it’s Pleurisy’s exact scenery that you’re getting, shouldn’t it be your own? Unless, when you took on Pleurisy’s simulation, it automatically went to yours because they’re so similar. If that’s the reasoning, though, shouldn’t Laurel have looked at you or something after the hallucination?

You’ll have to ask her when you’re done.

You start towards the end of the dock, not being as cautious as you were the first time you came upon this fear. You know what lies beneath the surface of water; an endless nightmare that you have to sink into. You come upon the edge, peering over the side, watching today’s reflection do the same.

You rock back on your heels, taking in a deep breath, before propelling yourself forward into the water. The ice water consumes your feet, working quickly to swallow you whole. You know better than to fight to stay above water this time, allowing yourself to sink down.

Your lungs have already lost their air, the thought makes the throbbing in your chest grow louder. You pinch your nose a little tighter, refusing to break the seal on your lips. You want to wait, want to see if you can calm yourself down without having to breathe in the water.

It’s impossible to take deep breaths, you have to find a different way.

With a few kicks, you manage to get your body horizontal, slowing the pace at which you sink. Your hair tickles the back of your neck, fighting to find a way around your head. The water is stinging your eyes this time around, so you let them stay closed for a couple of seconds longer, focusing on that and not the burning sensation growing in your throat.

When you can’t stand it anymore, you open your eyes. This is when you’re able to see what it’s like to be on the other side of the water. The surface is so far away at this point that it’s hard to see the clouds on the other side. A part of you wonders what it would have felt like if you had put your arm out, feeling the warm air on the other side.

Caspian told you that the fears represent something, but Laurel told you that they’re typically irrational. You can’t remember ever going into a body of water like this and accidentally drowning. Then again, anyone would be afraid of drowning if they were placed into a situation where they were hopeless and it was the only option.

You can’t do it anymore, there’s no more air to hold onto. You realize you’ve closed your eyes again, and when you open them, you’re greeted with darkness. You open your mouth to gasp, expecting a mouthful of water, but you’re greeted with air. You can’t help yourself when you begin sucking it in as if you’ve never breathed a day in your life.

You’re above water again, but you’re surrounded in darkness.

The stale smell of the air is strangely familiar. It isn’t until you move, do you realize why. You’re still laying down, and you accidentally kick the top of the box. Which could only mean that you’re in the coffin, because you’re not claustrophobic, this isn’t about being trapped inside of the box. 

You press both of your hands to the ceiling, your shoulders set square against the floor. You push hard, trying to make an effort to make it look like you’re trying to get out. In truth, you aren’t afraid of this part, not even the waiting. As soon as the dirt starts getting dropped onto the coffin, it’s a new story.

The thought alone makes your stomach jump to your chest.

Speaking of which, you can hear the thump on the other side. The first shovel of dirt has been delivered, the first of so many. You remember counting how many they had to use during your mother’s funeral, it nearly came out to a hundred. You don’t remember the number anymore, you tried to get it as far away from you. You were really trying to get back to normal for your family, they needed normalcy again.

And then your dad died, and you ended up at another funeral planning. You stood next to Reed and Mox as they buried him inside of the coffin. You saw him an hour or so before, dead on the inside and you asked Reed so many times if he was sure that he was dead. You thought that he was just sleeping, that he’d wake up underneath the ground, unable to escape.

No, this fear isn’t irrational, it’s your own personal nightmare.

You slip one hand over your mouth, squeezing your eyes shut as the tears appear in the corner of your eyes. You don’t want to cry, you don’t want to come out of the fear landscape with swollen, bloodshot eyes because you couldn’t keep it together. 

You need to remember to breathe, you need to take deep breaths. You can’t forget that you’re being timed. The faster you move through this, the faster you can get away from this part of your life. You won’t ever be buried alive, you won’t end up like your parents, not like this. And your parents…

They are long, long gone.

You go to touch the ceiling of the coffin again, but your arm extends out fully, further than it should if you were still in the coffin. You remove your other hand from your mouth, carefully bringing yourself into a sitting position. The floor beneath you is wood again, it’s smooth and cold. Once again familiar.

You’re in the training room, which means that Finnick is going to be bleeding out twenty feet in front of you. You get to your feet, ignoring the throbbing pressure in your head, a headache. Probably from sinking in the water for so long. It makes sense that it would take it’s time to show.

You move forward, keeping your eyes on the floor. The spotlight appears, blinding you immediately. You cover the tops of your eyes, continuing forward. The white circle of the ring appears at your feet, the light above you appropriately shifts to land on the person in the middle.

The stench of blood in the air alone is enough to make you gag. You turn your head around, taking in the only clean air while you can. After this, you’ll be stuck inhaling it until you find a way out of this. You swallow thickly, and turn back to Finnick, who’s laying on the floor.

The blood is pooling around him on the floorboards. You slowly get down to your knees, letting the warm liquid soak through your black jeans. You press the back of your hand to your face, letting the tears appear in your eyes. The smell is so strong, so incredibly awful. 

“Finnick,” your voice is strained, all you can think about is the metal. Why does blood smell metallic?

Finnick turns his head, he’s pale, color drained from his tanned skin. His eyes lazily look over your face, lips giving you a tight smile. His shirt is stained a darker color than black, his brown hair tinted the maroon color. You know that the moment you touch him, more wounds are going to appear.

“Press both of your hands to the wound.” you tell him, trying to figure out the secret to this fear.

Part of it is the blood, you think. You can’t stand the smell of it, and the idea of it coating your skin in a thick layer--you let out another gag. You turn your head from Finnick, squeezing your eyes shut. Blood is a bitch to get out of clothing, especially from grey. Which is why your father’s bloody clothes were promptly burned and he was changed into something more appropriate.

Is the other part death? The first time you ended up in this fear, you were a crying mess, trying to save Finnick. Every time you thought you had control over his life, it started to spiral again. Until he was covered in bullet holes, and random stab wounds, and it just kept getting worse. He became unsalvageable, and that’s the point where you think you really lost it. 

You can’t help him. Right now, he looks like he could. But the longer you stare, the more you’re able to point out. He’s pale, and judging by the blood he’s laying in, he’s lost too much of it. It’s not like you’re a doctor, you can’t perform some blood transfusion. And the spot where he was shot is a dangerous place, isn’t it?

Not to mention, you’d have to dig into the wound to get the bullet out and…

You think you might puke.

“I’m so sorry, Finnick,” you say, grabbing one of his hands, “I’ll sit here with you, okay?”

He gives you a nod, you try not to cry. Try not to think about how your hands are now covered in his blood, how you can feel it through your jeans. How it’ll smear on your face if you rub your eyes.

You place your other hand on the back of his, solidifying the touch, pushing your fear further.

Then, he vanishes. Your hands clap together, and you’re holding nothing but air. When you look down, there’s no body, no pool of blood. There’s grass, though, and the spotlight has switched to sunlight.

You look up a little further to see the train tracks, which means that behind you must be the glass building. You get to your feet, wiping your hands against your thighs to get the wet feeling of blood off. When you turn around to face the building, you’re met with a couple of people. The one standing out further than the rest is Caspian.

You two stare at each other, neither speaking. He’s the first to break it, “You failed initiation.”

Oh no.

No, no, no.

You head forward, shaking your head, “No, I didn’t.” the words are firm out of your mouth.

You didn’t fail, you’re going right back inside. You’re not going to join the factionless, to join the people that killed your father. Most of all, you won’t give Reed the satisfaction of knowing that you weren’t good enough for Dauntless and you left him behind for nothing. And you, one hundred percent, won’t let Mox down.

This one is different from the others, because you are not afraid. You’re pissed.

Caspian gets in your way, stopping you from moving further. Behind him stands Thyme, and Ameer, and Mirza, all with smirking faces and satisfied expressions. You failed initiation, they still think you’re some sort of cheater, when you’re not. 

“We can’t let you back into the Dauntless compound.” Caspian says to you, pressing a hand to your shoulder to push you back, “You are no longer an initiate.”

You lock eyes with him, “Move.”

You will get back inside.

When Caspian doesn’t move, you grab his wrist, leaning into him, “Get out of my way.”

The Abnegation dedicate their entire lives to trying to support the factionless, which you had no problems with. It’s an honorable thing to do, to help the people that need it the most without asking for anything in return. But after one of them killed your father, and none of the factionless had given up the murderer, it’s hard to see them as just harmless cattle. They’re harboring a person who took the life of a man who wanted nothing but to see his kids grow up.

You won’t join them, not ever.

Caspian relents, finally. He moves aside to let you go through the door. Your hate club isn’t very happy about it, glaring at you on the way. You don’t care, the longer you think of the idea of you being factionless, the more your mood worsens.

You go through the doorway, and listen as the door slams shut behind you. You jump, turning to see why they aren’t following, but you’re met with glass, and darkness beyond it. You look at the way you were originally heading, to see that the glass building is gone, you’re trapped inside of a box.

A scream jumps to your throat.

You know what’s coming.

You turn towards the corner you have your back to, sliding your hand over your mouth, squeezing your eyes shut. Your head connects to the corner, shoulders raising as you duck your head down. You can’t do this, you need out. You don’t care if you look suspicious, you hate spiders. The thousands of possibilities of what they can look like, what they can do.

You take in deep breaths through your nose. In the silence of the box, you can hear the sound of them crawling over the glass floor. You stiffen, a squeal leaving your mouth. You place your other hand on top of the first, struggling to breathe normally. You know that they’re coming, it’s a matter of time before one of them touches you.

You let out a shudder, toes curling. Don’t think, just breathe. Don’t think, just breathe.

When you fall forward, your eyes pop open in surprise. You stumble forward to catch your footing, not wanting to fall over. The lights in the concrete room turn on, effectively blinding you. The smell of metal is the first thing on your mind, and you instinctively cover your nose to get the smell away.

You made it, you’re out.

You press both of your hands together, and then to your lips as you wait for them to come through the door. Your stomach doesn’t feel like it’s tied in knots anymore, your throat isn’t closed. You breathe freely, and happily, knowing that you’ll never have to do this again if you don’t want to.

The door opens, making you look up to see the faces that’ll be greeting you. The first is Caspian, who holds a bright smile on his face, giving you an encouraging nod. You must have done well, then, otherwise he’d be grim if they thought that you were Divergent, based on your actions. Behind him is Damon, Laurel, and a couple of others that you can’t name.

“Congratulations, (Y/n),” Caspian says, “You’ve completed your final evaluation.”

“Thank you.” you smile.

“Rankings will be announced at the welcoming banquet during dinner,” he says, “You have two hours to get ready.”

You give a nod, they move aside to let you leave the room first. You don’t waste time trying to get out, you want to put as much distance as possible between this room, and you.

On the other side of the door waits Blaire, Finnick, Sydney and Nestor. They give you a few whoops, clapping loudly. The other people in the room give them looks, but when they turn away, there are smiles on their faces.

“You did it!” Sydney cheers, getting up from the chair, “In eight minutes, no less!”

You stop, “Eight minutes?”

“You’re going to be number one on the board!” Blaire says, “Finnick’ll be number two, and the rest of us will fall after. Who knew that you two would blow the rest of us out of the water?”

“Oh, whatever,” Nestor says, “Lennox finished in ten minutes, you finished in eleven. It’s not that big of a time gap.”

“It’s impressive, though,” Blaire argues.

Sydney rolls her eyes, “Boys.”

You laugh with her, joining Finnick’s side. He holds his hand out for you to take, you go ahead and slip your fingers into his. Finnick squeezes your hand tightly, turning to look at the others, “You three go ahead and lead, since you’re causing a scene.”

Simultaneously, Nestor and Blaire flip him off, but they listen to him anyway. Sydney walks behind them both, shaking her head and butting in sometimes when she thinks that they’re being ridiculous. That or she has an opinion that she really wants to share.

You know that Finnick wouldn’t ask the others to go ahead, if he didn’t have anything to say. He slows his pace for a couple of seconds, allowing a space to grow between you five, and then he begins walking again.

“What is it?” you ask, looking at him. 

He’s got his eyebrows drawn in, not necessarily looking at you, “Am I one of your fears?’

Your mouth falls open, he must’ve seen you talking in the room. And since there’s no audio on the screen, it’s impossible to hear what you’re saying, only that you’re talking in the first place. Of course, with you two being from Abnegation, it kinda changes the game on things. He definitely saw you say his name.

You stop entirely, Finnick doesn’t get the memo at first. It isn’t until he notices that his arm is out further than it’s supposed to be, does he look behind him. You stare at him for a while, wondering if your three friends will say anything about you two disappearing right now.

“Hey, congrats you two!” Someone says to you, patting you on the back as they pass you two. She has bright red hair that’s split into two braids down her back, three piercings in her nose.

“Thanks.” you murmur, then you begin to pull Finnick down the Pit path again.

Finnick doesn’t say anything to you at first, but the longer the silence draws on, the more anxious he must grow, “You didn’t answer my question.”

“I know, hold on.”

That fear, watching him bleed out on the floor, is more than just the blood. It’s more than death. Standing there, staring at Finnick for almost a minute made you realize that. If it were just those two things, then the fear could’ve just put anyone on the floor bleeding out. It’s past that though. It’s been Finnick every single time you’ve had to go through it.

There’s a hidden layer to it, one that you already knew existed, just haven’t confronted yet.

You don’t wanna lie to Finnick and tell him that it isn’t about him, because it definitely is. You also don’t know if now is the right time to tell him, you’d rather wait. Make sure that you’re definitely members of Dauntless, and then go ahead and tell him because there will be nothing to lose.

You clear your throat, “How about I tell you later, does that sound okay?” After a second, you look at him. 

He’s got his mouth turned down, “It’s a simple yes or no, (Y/n).”

“There’s an explanation behind it, so--”

Finnick pulls his hand from yours, “Fine.”

You press your lips together, face dropping. You don’t know what his problem is all of a sudden. When have you ever broken a promise in the past week? You went and told him your most dangerous secret, isn’t that proof enough?

The headache from earlier is returning, you reach up and massage your temples. The two of you finally reach the final level of the Pit. He’s walking a little faster now, clearly mad at you. After the two of you killed Thyme, he must’ve thought that was the end of keeping things from each other.

Your hand curls around the fabric of his shirt’s sleeve, yanking him with you towards a hallway. Sydney, Nestor and Blaire have left you long behind, you don’t think they’ll care if you show up late, anymore. They stopped questioning it, they know it’s your thing to do, and you dragged Finnick into it as soon as you two became friends again.

“(Y/n),” Finnick sighs, not sounding happy.

He’s brave, considering he’s the one that wanted this.

You drag him into a barren hallway, and for good measure, you go around a second corner. When you let go of Finnick’s shirt, there’s a set of wrinkles in the spot. You hadn’t even realized you were breathing heavily until the silence suddenly became overwhelming.

And your heart is pounding in your ears again, butterflies rising, blood rushing. You don’t know if you can do this. You wanted these two extra hours to come to terms with telling him. At least get you prepared, but he’s taken that away from you.

Honestly, you think you might hate him a bit.

“What--?” Finnick begins, attitude seeping through.

You yank him down to your height with his shirt, and then place both of your hands on his cheeks when you kiss him. His lips are soft, warm, an immediate cure to the headache that was coming on. It takes him a moment to register what’s happening, and when he does, he leans into the kiss.

You don’t want to let go, you’ve been waiting for this moment for so long, but you have to pull away. You mess with the bottom of his shirt, not exactly meeting his eyes, “It’s…” you swallow, your throat is closing, you think you might cry, “I watch you bleed to death, and there’s nothing I can do to save you. I’ll cover the bullet hole or the stab wound, and then another will appear, and it’s a never-ending cycle. The only way I can get through it is if I just let you die.

“Caspian told me to find meaning in my fears when I went through them today, to get to the root of it,” you bite your lip for a moment, looking at him. He’s staring at you, watching you carefully. You take in a deep breath, eyes becoming blurry, “So many people have left my life through death, and I think that I’m afraid you’ll leave me that way, too.”

Your hands are shaking, teeth chattering. You try to give him a smile, but the tears pour over your eyes, and you have to pull away from him entirely to wipe your eyes, “I didn’t realize how much--” you shake your head, “--how much I had actually loved you until the night of the party, hours after that fear had showed up.”

You wipe your eyes with your fingers again, sniffing. You wish he’d say something, but you’re also happy for the silence. It feels good to get this off your chest, even if you’re crying. You take in a deep breath, coughing to ease the tension that’s sitting in your throat.

When you look at Finnick again, he’s frowning, “I’m not going to leave you, (Y/n). I’ll be right here.” he places his hand over his shoulder, the one with the tattoo.

Tears jump back into your eyes, and you can’t help it when you start crying entirely. You press your hands to your eyes, a second later, his arms wrap around your shoulders, squeezing you in the hug. He places his chin on the top of your head. You want to tell him that your parents never thought they were going to leave, either. But it just happens, and there’s nothing you can do about it.

“I love you too.” Finnick murmurs into your hair, “And I promise that I’m never going to leave you.”

It’s hard to recover after this, you spend a lot of time trying to dry your eyes and not cry again. Finnick watches you, not really speaking unless you talk first. You think he’s trying to give you space, which you can appreciate. That, or he’s afraid of saying the wrong thing and watching you burst out crying again.

Before the two of you can leave the hallway, though, he grabs your right hand in his hands. His face is soft, “Will you be my girlfriend?”

You let out a gentle laugh, “Isn’t it obvious?”

He gives you a smile, “I want to hear you say it.”

You turn your body towards him, placing your other hand on the back of his, “Yes, of course.”

—

The dining hall is as packed as ever, worse than it was this morning. You’re lucky that the leaders thought to save a whole table for you guys, otherwise you’d all be scattered around the room. And judging by what you saw when you walked in, you probably would’ve been able to sit next to Finnick, and no one else.

While you wait for the leaders to announce the rankings, Sydney brought up the topic of jobs. You could pick anything you want to do, here. Security inside of the Dauntless headquarters, patrol the walls, train initiates, tattoo artist, piercings, fashion designer. The list is endless, and if you don’t even want the traditional jobs, there’s always an option to work with Cleo inside of the infirmary.

Trink’s outright with her answer, perking up, “I’ve already asked Laurel if I could be her apprentice.”

You look at her, “Oh, designing clothes?”

“Yeah, she said that she’d teach me,” she smiles, leaning against her hand.

“Well, Nestor and I are going to try and become tattoo artists,” Sydney says.

“I only agreed to it because she said that she’d work with me.” Nestor says, giving her a side-eye for not giving out all the information.

Blaire smiles, “I’ve seen your art, you’re pretty good.”

“Good enough to be his first customer?” Lennox asks, raising his eyebrows.

“Forget Blaire, I’ll do it.” Cass says, making you all look at her, “I want a whole sleeve before the end of next year.”

Nestor’s face twists, “They won’t just give me the job, guys.”

“That’s what you think,” Sydney says, wrapping her arms around one of his. She places her head on his shoulder, “I think you’re talented enough to take over the entire tattoo shop if you try hard enough.”

Nestor presses his lips together, face turning a shade of red. He avoids all eye contact with the rest of you, which means that it’s time to change the topic of the conversation.

You drum your fingers against the table, “Didn’t Laurel say that there was an open position for a Dauntless leader?”

You can feel the pair of identical eyes landing on you with that question. You ignore the twins, Caspian told you to apologize, and you will. Just not right here, in front of everyone. It’s not as personal.

“Yeah, but typically the leaders will pick the person that fits the best.” Lennox says, “I mean, I think you can apply. I’m just not sure if it really works that way.”

You nod.

Blaire lets out a sound, “Come on, we’ve all seen (Y/n)’s rankings--” here we go again, you really don’t want to start digging at this, not with your hate club being so close, “--I’ll be surprised if she doesn’t get picked.”

Someone opens their mouth to speak, you cut them off, “Let’s wait and see, okay?”

There’s no room for argument, the familiar squeal of a microphone has you looking up to find the source. And surprise, surprise, Caspian is standing in the middle of a table, a smile on his face, “Due to Mags’ old age, she won’t be giving this year’s speech. If she tried to stand on this table for longer than a minute, she’d probably get blown over by the air conditioning.”

Laughter erupts around you, Caspian lets out a chuckle. One look at Mags tells you that she finds this funny too. She shakes her head, waving her hand to make him get on with the speech.

“As you all know, initiation has just ended. We started off with nineteen initiates, ten of them being our own blood, nine of them being transfers. Now, we have thirteen initiates left, and only ten of them will be allowed to call themselves one of us,” Caspian smiles, “To those who have made it this far, though. We offer you our congratulations.”

Caspian can hardly get the word out before the room explodes into sound. Clapping, whistling, cheering, some echoing the word. You can feel the stomping all across the room, vibrating the floor, fists on tabletops to draw out more noise. 

You squeeze Finnick’s hand, and he squeezes back.

Caspian raises his voice, “In Dauntless, we believe in bravery. In Dauntless, we believe in taking action. And in Dauntless, we believe in freedom from fear, and in acquiring the skills to force the bad out of the world we live in, so that the good can prosper and thrive. Initiates, if you have made it this far, you must also believe in these things. Which is why we welcome you.”

More cheering fills the silence after what he says.

“Tomorrow, in their first act as members, our top ten initiates will choose their jobs, in order of how they are ranked. Their rankings were determined based on a combination of three scores. The first comes from combat training, the second comes from the simulations, and the third is from today’s final examination--the fear landscape.

“The rankings will appear on the screen behind me.”

A full second doesn’t even pass before the rankings appear. All at once, your group of friends sit taller, desperate to get a good look at the board, to find their names. The screen on the wall is so large that it would be impossible to see, even if you’re far back in the room.

You can feel the air leave your lungs.

You’re number one.

And Finnick is number two.

The entire room is already cheering. More whistles, more stomping, more fists against the table. They’re whooping, and clapping and congratulating your table.

You slap a hand over your mouth, turning to look at Finnick. Tears have already gathered on the brim of your eyes. Finnick lets your other hand go, and it immediately joins your first hand as you stare at him. He’s laughing loudly, a bright smile on his face.

You did it. You’re a Dauntless member.

A pair of hands grab your shoulders, shaking you from behind. You turn to see Blaire, eyebrows raised, and yelling, “I told you!”

Sydney and Nestor are in a tight hug, with Sydney’s shoulders shaking. You think she’s crying from relief, you remember seeing her name above the tenth spot. Same goes for Nestor, who has his head resting against hers. Across the table, Trink and Lennox are kissing. You let out a laugh, turning away before you grow stiff.

The list on the board goes as follows; You, Finnick, Lennox, Blaire, Sydney, Nestor, Cass, Mirza, and Ameer. Which means that Horace, Eytelle and Allio have failed initiation.

You make a point not to look at them, not wanting to ruin your mood. It’s unfortunate that they couldn’t make it past initiation, but it’s not your problem, it’s theirs. If Thyme were still here, she would have been cut too.

You turn back to Finnick, once Blaire’s attention becomes preoccupied by Cass, who’s talking to him with an excited tone. The two of them seem to be agreeing on something.

With no warning, Finnick’s hands appear on either side of your face. They’re shaking slightly, his eyebrows are turned up. You think that he was just as anxious about this as you were, even though the two of you had nothing to worry about in the first place.

You grab his wrists, beaming. He pulls you in for a hug, squeezing you tightly.

You hope he never lets go.

--

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

add yourself to the TAGLIST

Just from a few hours of jumping and singing along to Dauntless music, you’re sweating. There’s soreness in your calves, voice beginning to give out from all the shouting, eyes sensitive to the colored lights. Everytime you think that you’ve finally had enough, Finnick is making you join him again.

His hair is stuck to his forehead, sweat running down the sides of his face. By now, any other sane person would have realized their exhaustion and given themselves a break, but Finnick is on an adrenaline high. You don’t think you’ve seen him have this much fun in years, and you’ll be damned if you’re the one to ruin it.

His palm is sweaty in yours, it doesn’t stop either of you from holding on. The tempo of the music never changes, always upbeat. They’re beginning to blend together for you, as their lyrics seem to be about the same thing; nights like these. You try to let your face relax, cheeks hurting from the constant smile, Finnick refuses to let you.

He twirls you, bobbing his head from side to side. Neither of you know the lyrics, much less the artist that sings it, but it doesn’t matter. You’re not in Abnegation, music doesn’t have to be sinful anymore. You can enjoy it in a room with others without thinking that they’ll rat you out for it.

You’ve never really heard Finnick sing before today, and even now it’s a little hard to hear. From what you make of it, you think that he sounds good, at least for now. It might be the alcoholic punch talking, or maybe it’s the lovesick high that’s convincing you of it. It doesn’t really matter either way, not to you.

At the last song, music begins to get turned down, allowing you to take a break. Before there can be any real protest from the crowd, a voice is coming over the speakers. One that you recognize from earlier, after hours of insufferable jokes, Daziel. He’s standing on a table, easily allowing everyone to see him.

“The chocolate cake just arrived, assholes!” he shouts.

There’s yelling from all around you, seemingly cheering at this news. The cake had been delayed for so long because they were having a hard time getting it. You think that’s what you were told right before the party started. You can hardly remember now, your head is a little fuzzy.

Finnick grabs either side of your face, warmth greeting the skin on your cheeks. He leans into your ear, “I’ll grab you some, wait over there.” he cocks his head in the direction of Maarja and Torrac, which is perfect, considering you might actually get a chance to sit now.

“Okay!” you agree, giving him a grin.

You don’t move from where you’re standing right away, watching him blend into the crowd to retrieve the dessert for you two. His height matches everyone around him, meaning you lose sight once he begins to slide in between people. You run a hand through your own hair, feeling just how wet it is too.

You’re not the only one, there’s people around you with this same problem. Although, you can’t really call it a problem when they don’t mind it to begin with. People are beginning to tie their hair out of their faces to allow all the trapped heat out. No one looks disgusted over the amount of sweat that just came from their bodies.

Finally following Finnick’s directions, you move towards the older siblings, noticing that Daziel has made it back to them. He holds up his cup in your direction, giving you a cheeky smile, “Enjoying yourself?”

“Yes,” you breathe, because there’s no use in lying. You can’t hide something that’s obvious.

A hand slaps on your shoulder, laughter in your ear, “She’s absolutely lovesick.”

“When are you going to tell him you like him?” Maarja asks, leaning into you.

“Not tonight.” you think you can see Finnick’s brown hair, maybe catching his eyes when he looks over his shoulder to make sure that you’re with the older siblings, “Soon, though.”

“At least she’s not waiting.” Daziel mutters, you have half the mind to elbow him.

Suddenly, you turn to face the three, watching as Daziel raises his eyebrows and Maarja backs away slightly so she can properly see your face, “Is this what it’s like to be in love?”

“Oh, brother.” Torrac groans, but there’s a smile on his face.

“Do you feel like you’re walking on clouds?” Maarja asks.

“Can you take on the world?” Daziel mocks her, rolling his eyes. He’s having just as much fun as Maarja’s having, you can tell.

“When you walk into a room, is he automatically the center of it?” Torrac joins.

You’re not sure if asking these three was the best idea. They do seem to have some insight, more experience. They witnessed Sydney and Nestor coming together, they must have been through some relationships of their own. As for you, it’s never happened. It wasn’t possible.

Finnick emerges from the crowd, holding two plates with several forks. You’re a little confused, until he says that you two will share a slice of cake, and the other three can fight over the other one. Maarja lets out an unamused ‘haha’ when Finnick calls them vultures. The second the fork is in each of their hands, they’re stabbing away and inhaling the cake as if they haven’t eaten in days.

You and Finnick alternate on grabbing bites. 

“We can sit, if you want.” he motions to the floor, and you give him an appreciative smile.

The two of you slide down the wall, staring into the room as you watch different scenes. People group together to eat their treat, others grab more alcohol, some haven’t moved from where they’ve been dancing for the last couple of hours. You tuck your legs beneath you while you watch. 

“Could you imagine what our parents would say?” Finnick asks, covering his mouth while he chews. His eyes are on you, watching you come up with an answer.

Your parents, they’d probably tell you to follow your dreams. If leaving Abnegation meant that you would thrive, they would tell you a hundred times to go away. They’ll forgive you, because that’s the grace of Abnegation.

Your brothers, your real legal guardians after your parents died, they would be a different story. Mox was excited for you, seeing you could have a new beginning like him and actually enjoy yourself. It’s like a butterfly coming out of its cocoon.

Reed would throw a fit. If you had ever attended a party like this and came home windblown with blown pupils, it would be screaming. He would never let you hear the end of it for weeks inside of the house. Outside, he would have to pretend like you’d done nothing wrong, but he'd be fuming.

Finnick’s parents are different, they would be like yours. Finnick never had a comfortable place in Abnegation. They knew that their son wouldn’t stay, and it started the first day he came home with split knuckles and lies rolling off his tongue. He didn’t belong, and there’s nothing they could’ve done to change that.

“They’d go crazy,” you say with a smile, head turning to see Finnick. He’s got a grin on his face, “Reed would lock me in the house for years. I’d be grounded for life.”

“Mine would pretend they didn’t see anything.” Finnick laughs, and you can’t help but to join.

“Unconditional love.” you agree, breaking off a piece of the cake and placing it in your mouth.

Finnick’s silent for a moment, then he shakes his head, “Reed had unconditional love for you too. I’m sure he still does, it’s just going to take him some time to realize that thanks to him, you became the person you needed to. Just like how my parents told me they were proud of me for doing what I had to.”

You smile softly at Finnick. There’s got to be some concealed rage. You’d like to believe that one day you two will see eye to eye, but two of his siblings have left him behind. He raised you after Mox left, there had to be some belief that you would stay for the sake of keeping him company. Or possibly there’s blame that he didn’t do enough to make sure that you were Abnegation.

You decide not to argue, because maybe it’s hope that you’re missing, “Yeah.”

Finnick elbows you slightly, “Want a drink? I’ll grab one for you.”

“Sure, and can you make sure we’re not sharing this time?” you tease, Finnick sticks out his tongue before he gets up to leave.

You don’t mind sharing. In fact, you don’t mind anything when it comes to him, at all. You’re just happy that you can be sharing the experience in the first place. Your first party, in dim colored lights surrounded by people who now call you family. Alcoholic punch and enjoying yourself, too. 

And dancing, so much dancing.

--

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

Your head whips to the left, a sudden sharp pain exploding across your nose so loudly, that it forces tears to your eyes. Ignoring the new pain in your neck, your hands form a bowl beneath your jaw, catching the blood that’s beginning to run. It starts with a small dribble, growing into a steady stream, proving that your nose is far from healed.

And Finnick has just broken it again.

You look up at him, mouth falling open. Metal is all you can taste as you try to form the words to ask Finnick what the fuck he’s doing. You were just in the middle of telling him that you’re Divergent, so why would this be his first instinct? It all dies in your throat, your tongue the second you see the look on his face.

Finnick’s face is a bright shade of red, his jaw is clenched, eyebrows closed and pointed downward. His hands are, in fact, formed in the shape of fists. And you don’t miss the fact that he’s squeezing and releasing his palms, showing you that he’s not done with you just yet. He stands tall, over you, with squared shoulders.

You gape, not knowing what to say to calm him down.

He was fine just a second ago, was it something you said? Is it the fact that you told him you’re Divergent? Does he even know what the word means? You can’t imagine he does.

The more you stare, the more you realize that it doesn’t matter. What matters is that you get out of this room without pissing him off further.

“Please,” the word is hushed and meek out of your mouth, making your stomach twist. You feel sick, like this isn’t going to end well. A big part of you is telling you to run, “Finnick--”

“Don’t!” He shouts, you flinch. When he speaks again, it’s much more level, more controlled, “Don’t speak.”

This look in his eye is familiar, it’s the look he used to give others just before it began; the lesson to be learned. You saw him give it to snot-nosed Erudite kids, you saw him give it to the too-bold Dauntless kids, and now he’s giving it to you, as if you aren’t his friend. It’s enough to make you shudder. You wonder if he realizes that you know what’s coming.

“I’m so sorry,” you say anyway, backing away, “I’m--”

Each step back is another jolt of lightheadedness. You’ll be lucky if you don’t pass out before you reach the door, if you can even run, that is. Blood is beginning to coat your hands in a thick layer, the same way it covers your hands when you try to save Finnick in your fears. It’s funny how things change, how you’re the one that needs saving now.

You’ll be lucky if you can escape him. In this state, he is the predator, and you are the prey. And if he was smart to take out your one major weakness, you can’t imagine what other tricks he has up his sleeve.

Finnick is coming toward you at the same pace you’re going, “I told you not to speak.”

You hold your hands out to steady him, watching and listening as the blood in your hands spills onto the floor. You can see the static at the corners of your vision, dancing their way to take over, “Let me explain.”

“No!” His voice echos.

You have to leave.

You turn, going to run, but you don’t even get a full step in before a hand secures around your wrist, yanking you around to face him again. His other arm is already wound back, slamming into your cheekbone.

He lets you go briefly, almost allowing you to fall, before his hand is curling around your shirt, yanking you up and onto your feet. There’s a hard look on his face, all you can see is determination. You keep thinking that this is what he saw during your guys’ fight, the same amount of anger that had pushed you to win.

Which means that this is his payback.

His knuckles hit your mouth next, you can hear your neck crack from the movement. When Finnick pulls his hand back, there’s little indents from where your teeth had pressed into your skin. And with no time to recover, his fist aims for your eye.

Now he lets you go, watching you fly to the ground. Your hands go out to catch yourself, but the blood on your palms stops it from happening. You hit the ground at full-force, face knocking onto the wood below. 

You gasp, hand reaching up to grab your nose as you look at Finnick.

The moment the two of you lock eyes, you realize why he brought you out here, instead of at the chasm corner, where you’ve been bringing him to talk. Out there, there is a slight chance that someone will hear your screaming echoing through the hallway. Here, no one is going to save you unless they accidentally walk into the training room, especially after hours.

This is the perfect spot for him to get his way.

You bring your arms up, covering your bloodied face, trying to curl in on yourself to reduce the damage as he pulls back his leg. White stars form on the black background behind your eyes. It was a mistake to let him bring you out here. You knew that there was something wrong when he chose the training room instead of the chasm. Why didn’t you trust your gut?

His kick lands on your right side, stinging pain spreads over your ribs, worsening the nausea that has swept over your body. You hold your breath, gritting your teeth harder. You don’t think Finnick realizes just how smart it was for him to knock out your nose, because now there is no chance that you’ll fight back. 

The following kick is higher, his foot sweeping into your nose, reinforcing your thoughts. He then aims for your ribs again, in the same place, causing a sharp pain this time.

You let out a garbled sound, a scream dissolving into a moan. You suck in air, tears appearing in your eyes.

The hits keep coming, over and over. Your face, your abdomen, your chest, your ribs over and over. Each time you catch a glimpse of him, he looks like he’s just getting started, nowhere near done. The few tears have turned into sobs by the time he’s finally slowing his pace, sweat pouring off his forehead because he’s exhausted.

Not because he’s ready to move on.

Finnick brings his leg back again, you shield your face with your forearms, “Stop!” you cry, “Please, Finnick, please.”

The hit doesn’t land, you don’t want to move your arms, afraid that the moment you do, he’ll finally go through with it. You settle for peeking through a small gap you make, and you’re met with two faces, instead of just one.

Thyme is standing behind Finnick, her head tilted slightly. She has something in her hand, you’re not able to catch it in the first glimpse. Once you move your arms, your eyes find the object.

It’s one of the guns off the table.

“I warned you.” Thyme says, looking over the gun in her hand, “I told you what would happen if you went near Finnick.”

You rest your head against the hardwood floor, eyes rolling to the back of your head, “Go fuck yourself.”

Your gums are bleeding, you can feel the exact spot where it’s coming from beneath one of your front teeth. You thought the flow would steady by now, but it doesn’t show any signs of relenting. Just like these two in front of you.

Thyme isn’t bothered, raising an eyebrow without even looking at you, “What was it that you said to me? I would ‘end up in a body bag’?” she’s amused, eyes landing on you. There’s a particular smile hinting at the corners of her mouth, “Oh how the tables have turned, right?”

You sneer, gathering the blood in your mouth before you send the spit flying at their feet, “Fuck you, I know all about you. My brother told me how they celebrated your leave when you fucking transferred.”

Thyme’s eye twitches, leaning forward, “Brave of you to talk to me like this.”

You give her a smile back, “You think I’m scared of you just because you have a gun in your hand?”

Thyme’s face straightens, hand holding out the gun, pointed at you, no longer playing, “Beg.”

The laugh that peels out of you is sudden and loud, making the pain in your ribs worse. You can’t help it, you can’t help the tears that appear in your eyes, either. She wants you to beg.

What a joke.

You deadpan, “I’m not begging you for shit.”

The last thing you see are the eyes of Finnick, detached and faraway.

--

“Come on, (Y/n).”

There’s jostling, sending blossoming pain across your body. You can feel air on your left side, like you’re being rushed somewhere. And there’s a solid pressure on your back, behind your knees.

“Is she awake? Is she alive?”

“Grab that door.” Is the answer the other person gets.

There’s a sound of metal being pushed in, a long creak, and a couple seconds later, a slam to your right.

“Open your eyes,” the first voice says, jerking your back upwards a couple of times, “Just a little, please.”

He sounds like Reed, the deepness is a normal giveaway that it’s your oldest brother. He’s the only person who used to hold you bridal style, Mox would always throw you over his shoulder if he was being playful. If it’s Reed, that means that this has all been just one long nightmare, right?

“(Y/n)?” the voice says again.

It’s not Reed, he doesn’t say your name with intensity, no matter how awful you’ve been.

“Caspian, please, tell me that she’s okay.” 

Silence.

“Cas--”

“I don’t know!” he shouts, you flinch at the tone, face twisting.

Your eyes fly open, gasping for air as if you’ve never breathed a day in your life. Your hand flies, securing on Caspian’s shoulder, hand squeezing tightly to combat the truck of injuries that are hitting you at once.

Caspian doesn’t slow his pace, not wanting to stop to look you over. He must be heading to the infirmary, because you can’t imagine him taking you anywhere else. He eyes your face first, relief flooding him when he realizes that you’re okay, not dead after all.

At your feet, on his right side, is Blaire, who has bloodshot eyes and a swollen face. He presses a hand to his mouth when he can, eyebrows inward. He must’ve been crying, you can’t see Finnick and Thyme sticking around long enough to see if you’re alive.

“Blaire, door.” Caspian says.

“Yeah--” his voice wavers, “--I got it.” Blaire pushes open another door, “You’re okay, you’re okay.”

“(Y/n), who did this?” Caspian asks, “You have to tell me.”

Your nails dig into his shoulder slightly, throat hurting when you go to speak. When it finally comes out, it’s only a whisper, “Finnick.”

You’re done protecting him.

“And Thyme?” 

You nod.

There’s a long stretch of silence, filled with only Caspian and Blaire’s shoes against the floor.

Blaire’s voice doesn’t belong to him, “We’ll handle it.”

And without missing a beat, “Leave them in the Pit when you’re done.”

--

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

add yourself to the TAGLIST

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//

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