Twin Image (A Divergent Fan Fic)

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I look over at my younger brother, and we're both in shock. Genevieve has a kid. A Child. And depending on the kid's age, that could mean only one thing. I'm not the first to have a kid anymore.

I look back to Miles, and then back at Liam for an explanation. "I-I . . ." He starts, and he closes his eyes for a moment, "I've got nothing, my visions still say Natalie's the first to have kids. Something's not right." Liam says aloud, and I gasp, and shove him with my power, and then gesture over to dad. Who of which was now choking on his next sip of wine, "Excuse me!?" He says standing, he comes straight over to me. "What's going on out here?" Mother comes out the kitchen asking, "Our eldest here might've gotten a girl pregnant and our middle child supposedly is going to give us our first grandchild. Are you confused and angry? Cuz I sure as hell am." Our dad explains, quite pissed. "What?!" Our mother questions, nearly dropping her teacup.

"Good job Liam, that mouth of yours is pretty big." I say, "And it's about to get bigger, is there anything else me and your mother should know?" Dad asks with his arms crossed in front of me, "Well uh, Natalie is also the first to," I shut his mouth with my mind, he tries to talk and then points at me. All my father does is give me a certain look, and I let him go. "Also the first to what?" He asks looking back at Liam, "The first to get married." He answers. My dad gasps and looks at me in disbelief, "Tomorrow I expect Tobias to come here, by himself, no exceptions. I think its time we have a chat." He says, and I shake my head, "No, if he needs to come tomorrow then I'm coming with him. Like I always do." I say, and my dad looks at me crazy, "No you won't, just him." - "But dad," - "Listen to your father young lady." My mom interjects, and I huff.

You've gotta be kidding me. "Why didn't you tell me she had a kid Nat?" Miles eventually asks me, I had no idea. I'd always go to her parents house and she'd answer the door, no baby in sight, not even baby stuff. "Miles I didn't know, can you explain what happened?" I ask and he does, he says he popped by her parents house, and her younger brother answered and told him she was at their grandmother's, just around the corner. He went straight there and spotted Genevieve heading to her back garden with a baby in her arms.

They made eye contact, and he ran off back home, not knowing what to do. "What if I'm the dad? That'd mean I left her all alone. Liam you gotta have something, I need to know something!" Miles says, and Liam squeezes his eyes closed this time. He opens them, "It's still the same, Nat first. And I don't see Gen or this baby in your future Miles, I see something totally different." Liam confirms, and I see where this is going, unfortunately, "That could mean only one thing," I say, "That baby? Is not yours." I finish. And Miles takes a deep breath, "But, it was a brand new baby, three-four months old tops. And if you do the math, four months plus eight months is twelve months. And don't ask me why I remember the exact date but, we did the thing exactly a year ago, before we transferred. The math doesn't lie." Miles calculates out loud, stressing himself out. "Well, Liam doesn't lie either. He's our own personal psychic remember?" I say, and Miles rolls his eyes.

"All he's ever done is tell us about the future future, never the next day type-of future. So how can we even know If his power is reliable?" Miles argues and Liam scoffs, "First off, don't talk like I'm not standing right here. Second off, you guys don't ask! Not once have either of you asked me 'the fuck's gonna happen tomorrow little bro?'" He rebutals. He's not wrong. Both me and Miles have been focused on the bigger picture when it came to asking Liam about our futures. And speaking of the future, I get an idea. And hopefully an answer to this mystery.

"Okay both of you shut up, Liam is it possible for you to show our brother what this child of her's looks like in the future?" I ask, and he puts up his pointer finger while closing his eyes. After awhile he scrunches his eyes together, seeming to be struggling. "What age?" He asks, eyes remaining closed. I think for a moment, our age exactly would be an appropriate age to estimate whether or not we're related, based off only looks. "Eighteen." I answer, and he takes a few more moments, and reaches out his hand for Miles.