Divergent One Shots (Eric & Tris)

Sixty-Eight-Have I Changed That Much? 19.8

Eric

I rub my temple at breakfast. I didn't go back to the Pit... but I did get insanely drunk—more so than I ever have before. My phone chimes with a text and I flip the ringer off. I rub my temple again as I notice there's another prerecorded message from Jeanine.

'Did you find any yet?'

I send her a response that I've searched them all. I tell her I feel like I've missed something. I'll go through them again.
I sigh and put my phone back in my pocket. I sip my coffee. I just have to get through job assignment today.
"So..." Ryan grins slipping into the seat beside me. "How'd everything go with Tris?"
I give him a cruel look.
"That bad?" he asks raising his hands in surrender. "I won't ask again."
I shovel my eggs in my mouth hoping the food will help alleviate the pain. I see her enter the cafeteria and I look away. I focus on my plate, my cup, the table... anything but her. I notice movement out of my peripheral vision and she's with Christina. She looks like she's been crying. Christina rubs her back soothingly while she picks at her food. I wonder if she knows who she's living with—a Divergent rebel.
I turn back to my plate. I don't look up again until I'm finished and the staff clears our trays. Her table is empty except for the new members.
Ryan thankfully calls them up and we assign jobs. Lydia and Jude handle the apartments.
When we finish, I eat lunch quickly and crash in my apartment for the rest of the weekend. I order takeout and don't see the light of day.

*****

I view all of the simulations again—I find nothing. That's a lot of initiates to have none.
I rub my face in frustration.  I can't believe I've missed them.  They're untraceable. 
I'll watch them again... and some old ones, too.  I've got to find something.

*****

Time passes and I've still got nothing.  I tell Jeanine I've watched them three times and I've got none. 
"They must all be authentic then," she tells me. 
"Must be," I reply into my phone. 
"You seriously haven't found any?" she asks again in surprise. 
"No," I lie.  "I haven't."
"Alright.  Keep searching through the population.  One is bound to show up eventually," she insists. 
"Will do," I reply. 
I hear a dial tone and hang up. 

*****

I try to avoid her around Dauntless.  I know what times she's working, when she goes on breaks, takes the kids outside.  I change my schedule to deliberately circumvent her. 
I feel better that I don't seem enraged constantly.  I'm pleased that I don't have to feel that anymore.  I'll just completely ignore her existence. 

*****

As time passes, I feel empty—like something is missing.  My chest always hurts.  I go to the infirmary and Dana is as ornery as ever. 
"You're fine," she insists. 
I sigh irritably and leave. 
I schedule an appointment with Jeanine to tour the facilities—something I've never done.  Perhaps seeing them up close will give me perspective.  I've got to understand them. 
I take the train and arrive to Erudite headquarters.  I'm announced and ride the elevator up to her office.  She seemed ecstatic over the phone that I've taken such an interest in her studies.  I reach her floor and she actually meets me at the entranceway.  She explains there are only former Erudite and Factionless present.  All others have come to the end of their usefulness.  I honestly haven't found any before for her but she insists that I keep looking.  My predecessor was her golden boy.  He found her countless specimens—executing and handing them over.  He's retired now, though—gone the way of all Dauntless who come of age and lose their usefulness.  Sometimes I feel perhaps she's disappointed that I'm unable to fulfill her quota or something—as if he was exceptional and I'm incompetent.  I was expecting to find some this year but their sims look clean—no signs of abnormalities whatsoever. 
We sit in her office first and talk over tea.  I tell her what I've been looking for and she nods. 
"Sometimes they're hard to weed out.  Some adapt and appear to fit into their surroundings.  Just keep at it.  You'll find them eventually.  We always do," she advises. 
I nod and she finishes her cup of tea.  We take the elevator down to a restricted area—her using a retinal scanner to grant us entry.  There is only limited access to these floors for obvious reasons. 
We step out and it looks like any other floor I've seen—very similar to the setup of the hospital with a checkin desk, actually.  There are several Erudite guards posted throughout the floor as we stride down the hallway.  I see cells but they're different from those in Dauntless.  These are more like private rooms.  I stop at the door of one.  There's a small window at the top of the door with bars.  There's also a slot—I'm assuming for trays of food.  I peer in the room to see a cot with a female wearing a short, navy dress—similar to our prison inmates except ours are black.  She's huddled in the corner of the cot with her arms wrapped around her legs.  Her head rests on the wall and she has a vacant expression in her eyes.  She appears unordinarily unkempt.  I notice something is different from Dauntless besides the privacy of the room, though. 
"There are no sinks or toilet facilities?" I question. 
"What's the point?" she asks. 
"Um... I thought that would be obvious—water and the other..." I trail off. 
"We only feed them every three days or so.  We let them use a facility under guard prior to testing," she says dismissively. 
"A person can only go three days without water," I mention. 
"If they die, they die," she shrugs it off.  "Now, down here's where we run some of our tests.  Caleb is in there currently overseeing the MRI.  It's the least intrusive that we run.  Let's see if he's unearthed anything of consequence."
We step in and I observe Caleb in a light blue shirt, khaki pants with a white lab coat on.  He's focused on the screen in front of him.  We step up behind him.  I notice that he's currently taking scans of the subject's brain.  They supposedly think different from us so it's understandable that there may be varied physical attributes—like a genetic abnormality. 
"Mr Prior?  Have you discovered anything new?" Jeanine asks. 
"Yes, actually I have," he smiles.  He shows us various scans from the current patient who's listed as a number—#759.  He describes the visual difference of growth in the brain.  Certain areas are larger than others—larger than normal—while others are smaller.
"Fascinating," Jeanine nods.  "What do you suspect is different from this patient as opposed to others?" she inquires. 
"I'm wondering since there's such a variety here of growth... that possibly this one has tested for more than two factions.  These three areas relate to the other in proportion, while this area is largest—identifying that she is, in fact Divergent," he explains. 
I notice the machine start to shut down.  The scanning must be complete.  Jeanine and Caleb talk for a bit while I watch a lab assistant enter the testing room.  They're wearing full light blue dress scrubs, a mask, and their hair is covered with a cap used for surgery.  I observe as the lab assistant retracts the platform with the current test subject.  I see long, golden blonde hair and my stomach does a flop in anxiety.  My chest begins to ache at seeing her.  He said they suspect more than two factions. 
Did they catch her? I wonder.  Would I care?
It's obvious that I do. 
I observe as the lab assistant grabs her arms and pulls her forcefully up.  I step closer to the window as she rises in one of those navy gowns.  She looks so weak and sickly—very thin and skeletal.  They yank on her again.  She stumbles and grasps for anything to stop her fall.  Her hair falls into her face and I can't see who it is. 
"You've taken an interest in that subject," Jeanine points out. 
"Can I see her?" I ask. 
"Of course," she nods her assent. 
I step through the door to the scanning room and reach out for the girl.  I push her hair out of her face.  She stares down at the floor.  It's not Tris.  I sigh in relief.  I release her and the assistant drags her off back to her holding cell. 
I realize my hand is filthy.  I step back into the observation room.  Jeanine and Caleb are still gathered around his computer.  
Jeanine notices me join them.  "Did you learn anything?" she teases. 
"Yes," I nod.  I learned that girl hasn't bathed in a month or longer.  She's filthy. 
She smiles at me and turns her attention to Caleb.  "Have her run through simulations for as long as she's useful but mark down when she's not, we will do exploratory surgery to get a closer look at her defects," Jeanine announces. 
I feel sick as Caleb makes a notation.  Jeanine leads me on and shows me simulation testing facilities. 
"I think that's enough for a first time," she decides.  "Perhaps in the future, I could show you more... invasive facilities."
I nod thinking I don't know if I could stomach any more.  I thank her for her time and I leave. 
I get out to the train tracks and I check my watch.  I've missed the train by five minutes.  I'm stuck here waiting for an hour.  I walk around the tracks in a direction I'd previously not traveled during the daytime.  I stride on for a good fifteen to twenty minutes.  I feel led to a building I've never stepped foot in—at least not that I can remember.  
I climb the cement staircase and reach for the handle on one of the large wooden doors.  It's open so I enter.  It smells unusual—clean but somehow familiar.  The scent is relaxing and like something pleasant burning almost. 
I step in the doorway and enter the foyer.  It's empty.  I walk into another area—a much larger room.  The ceilings are massive—comparable only to the height of the Pit.  But these are beautiful filled with intricate wooden carvings that have to predate our city.  The windows cast a multicolored glow throughout the room.  I see scenes that I'm unfamiliar with portrayed within each window.  They're beautiful.  I take a seat on the last wooden bench and stare forward at the grand room.  I see the cross on the wall in front of me.  There's a podium up there and a musical instrument that reminds me of a piano—but vastly different. 
Someone sighs as they sit beside me.  "I'm glad you're here," he says. 
"I don't know what I'm doing here," I admit. 
"I'm almost positive God led you," he replies softly. 
"Maybe," I agree.  "I saw things today... learned things that I knew... but I'd never really seen.  It's more real now—scary and horrendous.  I felt disgusted."
"You saw where Caleb works," he deduces. 
I look to him. 
"How did you know?" I ask. 
He sighs, "I had a feeling.  God reveals things like that to people."
"I didn't see them as people before," I admit. 
"What about now?" he asks. 
"I don't know.  I'm questioning everything.  Most of all, I'm confused," I divulge. 
"I know she raised you for half your life.  Do you think she is an honorable person?" he asks me. 
"She's smart," I shrug. 
"There is a difference between wisdom and honor.  Honorable people try to do the right thing in all circumstances.  Smart people do what they decide is best," he tells me. 
I nod.  There is a difference.  She is not honorable—never was.  She's always made her own interests her top priority. 
"There are some stories in here," he motions to a thick book he carries.  "They may help you understand.  Some of the books in here are about a tribe of people through several generations.  God saved them from slavery.  He led them out and wanted them to follow him—to be set apart and different from where they came from.  They promised to follow him.  Then they had to wait and they got impatient.  They did what they thought was best.  They worshipped false gods and did detestable things.  Some turned back, others didn't.  Anyway, when they finally arrived where God wanted them to be, they forgot about him again—this is over generations, very similar to what our society is.  We've forgotten what's most important.  These people did what they saw was right in their own eyes.  That's subjective to each person.  Some people thought adultery was acceptable.  Others thought murder was okay.  None of these are acceptable.  There has to be clearly defined rules for everyone to follow," he explains. 
I purse my lips and nod. 
"What do you think about murder in the city?" he asks me.
"Dauntless are supposed to protect," I reply. 
"Yet Egan murdered people constantly," he points out. 
I nod.  "He did," I agree. 
"Do you think he was honorable?" he questions. 
"Absolutely not.  I couldn't stand him," I admit... although I was jealous of what he's done for Jeanine in the past. 
"Neither could I.  He always had an attitude problem.  He was arrogant and thought he knew everything.  He was my cousin," he divulges. 
"I didn't know that," I say in surprise. 
"We were in the same year in school.  I thought him going to Dauntless would solve his problem—teach him the value of others, to protect.  I had no idea he would harm so many.  It's the same with Caleb.  I'm so disappointed that my grandson participates in the mistreatment of people.  I know what he does... or at least, close enough," he explains. 
"Yeah," I nod. 
"Are you going to stop killing people?" he asks me. 
"I've never killed anyone," I admit. 
"Have you handed them over to her?" he questions. 
I shake my head, no. 
"Are you planning on it?" he asks. 
"After what I've seen today... I don't know if I ever could," I divulge. 
"Would you stop her?" he questions. 
"I don't know if that's possible," I say. 
"With God, anything is possible," he tells me. 
"I don't know your God," I admit. 
"But he knows you.  He guides you.  I believe he introduced you to my granddaughter for a reason.  Find out that reason," he tells me. 
I hear the blare of the train.
"I've got to go," I tell him standing up. 
He nods and wishes me well.  I run out the entrance and down the stairs quickly. 
"It was good talking with you," he calls out to me from the door. 
I raise my arm and wave as I run to catch the last car of the train.  I grab the handle and pull myself in.  I sit in the car alone—the clatter of the train progressing along the tracks my only companion.  I'm so grateful that girl wasn't Tris.  But do I believe she's like me?  I don't know. 
I ride the train for an hour sorting through my thoughts.  I see the compound coming into view and I jump off.  I cross the tracks and observe someone standing there waiting for the next train.  She's looking at her music device.  I hear her singing and my heart clenches.  Some of the words register with me though, and upset me.