A Collection of Odds & Ends

Forbidden (Eric - Divergent)

This was a prompt from Tumblr.

The two things that had to be used were: "Do you think it's possible that I...might be... pregnant?" and "Don't fucking touch me!"

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Nervously sitting on the edge of the cot Tris took a deep breath, slowly exhaling. Things had been hectic in the last few days and this was her final nail in the coffin. Closing her eyes, she bit her bottom lip and groaned. How had she ended up here?

No, she knew exactly how she had ended up here. A night out in the pit, a little too much to drink, and a dark corner away from all the noise. Swallowing hard, she shifted uneasily trying to erase the memory of Eric's lips on hers, his hands on her body.

"Eric." the name sent a chill through her entire body. Jerking her head in the direction of the voice, Tris' eyes narrowed at the very sight of the faction leader.

"Marge." Eric's deep voice replied. "Any news?"

"Three cases of the food poisoning." The Dauntless nurse informed the leader. "We're waiting for blood tests on that one." her head jerked in the direction of Tris.

"Get them well enough to go back to work." Eric made his demand, a chart in hand. Flipping the papers, his cold blue eyes scanned the paper work that had been given to him. "Carry on." He dismissed Marge with a slight nod.

Slowly, as if time was standing absolutely still, Eric walked toward Tris.

Her heart raced and she could hear the blood pumping through her ears. Damn Eric. Damn him and damn her for being stupid enough to listen to him. To all the pretty things he had to say, for the way he had made her feel special in her moment of drunken weakness.

"Prior." Eric's voice was hard. "Food poisoning?" His hand reached out, resting against her forehead, checking for temperature.

"Don't fucking touch me." Tris pulled away. Glaring at Eric, she continued. "T-they're not sure." Tris answered, licking her suddenly dry lips. "We're waiting to find out."

"Hmph." Eric grunted, picking up a chart at the end of the cot where she sat. Scanning through the paper work, his eyes quickly found a few key words that he needed in order to know what was happening. "How do you feel? Sick? Headaches? Tired?"

"Yes." Tris answered, shifting a little under his gaze. "To all. Why? What does it matter to you?"

"If you are ill and it is something that can be spread, then it is my business." Eric replied, his eyes never leaving the paper. "What about...your uh...lady business? Has that been irregular in any way?"

What kind of question was what?

When Marge had asked, it was standard protocol, but when Eric asked it felt as though he was implying something. Sitting straighter, Tris raised her chin to look up at him. His eyes now on her, Eric shrugged, silently urging her to answer his question.

He was a busy man. A busy man who didn't have time for beating around the bush.

"It...I've only been a week or so...late." She stammered. Eric looked less amused by the second. No, surely he wasn't implying what she thought he was. Was he? "Not since the night of the party, when you and I...when we..."

Stone faced, Eric didn't reply. The coldness in his eyes was enough to tell Tris that he was, in fact, asking the very question she had assumed. Clearing her throat, she took a deep breath before asking the dreaded question. "Do you think it's possible that I...might be... pregnant?"

If Eric was shocked by the question, he didn't show it. "For your sake, you best hope not."