When the Sky Begins to Fall

Four's POV:

A girl from Abnegation transferred to Dauntless today; Tris. She's so cocky, and arogant, and doesn't seem to know when to keep her mouth shut.
But, there's just something about her...

Anyway, I can't think about that right now.
I need to find Eric.
I know today must be hard on him.
When Stormy died, he withdrew, again; the way he was before she transferred from Erudite.
But, he's different, now, too.
I don't know what it is...

I find him in the bar, and walk over to sit beside him on a stool, and order two shots of whiskey. I down one, quickly, then turn to face the cruel leader.
"How you doing?" I ask, trying to be friendly, but not too friendly.
He doesn't like me anymore.

Eric turns to glare at me.
"Don't you have initiates to babysit?" he asks, darkly.
"They've been tucked in," I reply, downing the other shot.
Eric sighs. "What do you want?"
"I just wanted to make sure you're okay. I mean, I know today must be pretty difficult... I mean, you met Sto-."
"Do. Not. Speak." Eric growls, and, for the first time since our own initiation, I feel intimidated by the blonde. He downs the three shots of vodka in front of him, and stands quickly, stumbling a bit, before storming out of the bar.

Well, I tried.

Stormy's POV:

I hate that there are no windows in this part of the building; I never know what time it is, by the light.
The only thing that let's me know another day has started, or ended, are the two meager meals I'm given every day.
Toast and water, for breakfast.
Cornbread and water, for dinner.

Sometimes, Jeanine leaves me a note on my table; informing me that there is new security camera feed of Eric.
I don't watch them, anymore.
He's turned into a monster, if the videos are anything to go by.
He's cold, and heartless, and unforgiving...
He's not my Eric, anymore.

I hold my shoulders back, and walk into room three, only to find that it's not Marcus waiting for me.
I don't know who this boy is; he's young, with long, messy brown hair.
I hesitate in the doorway, before I'm pushed in when the lady in white closes the door on me, and I fall to my hands and knees on the cold, hard floor.

"Are you okay?" the boy inquires, as he rushes to help me up.
Well, this is a first.
Usually, everybody else causes me to fall.
They never help me up.
I allow him to help me, as he leads me over to the bed, and we sit down.

"So," he begins. "I'm Caleb. Caleb Prior." He holds his hand out for me to shake, but I don't budge. He lowers his hand, awkwardly.
"Can we just get this over with?" I ask, in exasperation. I just want to be done with this, and get back to my room.

"Uh, what exactly are we supposed to do?" he asks, nervously.
I glare at him in annoyance.
He doesn't have to feign ignorance; he has to know.
He came in and asked for me, after all.

"Whatever the fuck you want," I spit at him. He looks taken aback, and flustered.
"What, you've never come here, before?" I ask.
"No," he says, with honesty in his eyes.
I believe him; but that doesn't mean I'm okay with his choice to come in here.
"You're allowed to do whatever you want; however you want. I've showered since the last client. The only rule, is you have to use protection. Jeanine doesn't want any of the other clients getting diseases, or anything."

Caleb seems to think that over in his head, for a moment, and then shock lights his innocent features.
"We're supposed to have sex?" he asks, horror in his voice.
I stare at him dumbly.
"Yes," I say, slowly. Honestly, could anyone be that thick?

"I-, I don't want to have sex with you," he says, quietly, blushing.
It's my turn to look shocked.
"You don't?" I ask, honestly curious. Why did he come in here, otherwise?

"No," he replies, quickly. "No, I-, I just... I saw my former leader come in here earlier. And he asked for you... And I saw you go in there, and you just- you just looked so... defeated."
Shit.
This boy is Abnegation, through and through.

"Why are you here? Why are they making you do this?" he asks, the questions coming at me like bullets. "Is this your job? Do you get paid? Am I supposed to pay you?"
I laugh darkly, at that.
"No, Caleb Prior, I do not want to this. This is not my job. I do not get paid. I was in the way of someone that Jeanine wanted to control, and this is how she got rid of me," I tell him, honestly.

"Oh, my goodness!" he exclaims, raising a hand to his cheek. "I'm-, I'm so sorry. I didn't know... Can I help?"
I snort.
"Can you get me out of here, and back to Dauntless, where I belong? Without Jeanine finding out?" I ask, knowing the answer, before I ask.
"I don't... I don't know," he whispers, apologetically.
I sigh.

"Look," I begin. "It's not your place. There's nothing you can do. If you don't want to fuck me," he covers his ears at the profane word, "then I'll be on my way."
And with that, I stand, and knock on the door, and the lady in white leads me back to my room.
What a weird kid.
He's too nice for this place.

Caleb's POV:

Kaitlynn left me here.
I can't believe they make her... have sex, with so many different people... against her will.
I would find it hard to believe that Jeanine is behind this, but she herself asked me if I wanted to participate. And there was no trace of untruth in the poor girl's eyes.

I want to help her, somehow. But, what can I do?
I stand, and leave the room, as well, heading back to the main part of the building.

This place doesn't seem safe, anymore. But, what choice do I have, but to stay?
I can at least be a friend to Kaitlynn.
A light, in a dark place.

I need to do some searching; get to the bottom of what is going on here, and why. And, if possible, help the girl escape.

Eric's POV:

I fucking hate Four.
I trudge into my apartment, slamming the door behind me, before plopping down on my couch.

Stormy.

The one thing that I still feel, is her absence; the despair that she is no longer here, with me.
Gone.
Dead.
Because of a Divergent.

I find my thoughts falling on happy memories together; sweet, safe times we shared with each other.
The time we had was too short.

I sit up, quickly, when I notice that a single tear has escaped my eye.
I brush it away with the back of my hand, roughly, and run to my bed, dropping down beside it, and reaching my arm under it.

I find what I was searching for, and place the items on my bed.
One, is a rectangle box; the necklace I was going to give Stormy, that night.
The other, a larger, black box. I open the lid, and pull out a vial of the red liquid, and a needle and syringe. I pull my sleeve back, and tie an elastic band around my upper arm, with my teeth, before twisting the needle on to the plastic tube.

I hold the syringe in one hand, and the Red in the other, as I turn the vial upside down, and thrust the sharp point of the needle through the rubber; the only thing keeping the liquid from spilling out onto the floor.
I pull the plunger back on the syringe, and watch as the red fluid fills the tube.

I see a bubble of air in the tube, so I push the plunger in just a bit, and tap the needle, until the bubble has escaped.
After taking a deep breath, I tap inside the crease of my arm, exposing a blue vein, before jabbing the needle into myself.

I push the plunger down, slowly, and growl as I feel the serum enter my bloodstream; burning through my body.

I pull off the tourniquette, and use a cotton ball to press against the injection site, as I remove the needle; preventing my blood, or my medicine, from escaping.

I sigh, deeply, as I lay back on the bed.
I don't know what I would do without Red.
Red is my best friend.

*****************************************************************************************

I wake up the next morning, feeling groggy.
It's not often that I shoot up more than once a day.
And, when I do, I pay for it.
When I don't shoot up... I pay for that, too.

My head is pounding, and my vision pulses with the throbbing in my skull.
I head down to the cafeteria, grabbing a cup of coffee.
I seat myself to a table, where no one else is sitting at.
I like to be alone.

When I've finished my coffee, I head to the Pit, awaiting Four, and the other initiates. Four is the first to enter, and he's making a beeline straight for me.
"Eric," he says to me, like, whatever.
"Four," I glare at him, my cold, blue-grey eyes, drilling into his his.
He offers me a small smile, and that makes me hate him so much more.

"You need to get over yourself, Eric. You've been acting like a dick the entire past year. She's not coming back, ya know?"

That's it.
I punch Four, square in the jaw, and he staggers back, clutching the sore area.
He composes himself quickly, though, as the initiates file into the Pit.
Well, here goes the first fucking day of training.

Four's POV:

Today could not have gone any worse.
This is, without a doubt, the least capable batch of transfers that I have seen, in the three years since I transferred here.
It shouldn't have surprised me that Tris just outright, and for lack of a better word, sucked; but it did.
I guess I was expecting her to be more like I was, when I transferred.

She doesn't want to hit anybody.
She won't make it, if that doesn't change.
I want to see her make it.

Well, at least I got a reaction out of Eric.
He punched me, this morning.
I was out of line with what I said, and I knew it; I planned on it.
I don't know what's with him, but I think there's something else going on.

I make my way to his room, and, without knocking, I fling open the door.
I stare, in shock, at the scene before me.
Eric is sitting on his bed, with a fucking needle in his arm.
He's fucking on drugs.

"What the fuck, Four?!" he screams at me, jumping up off the bed.
"What the fuck, is right," I reply. My heart aches at what he's clearly doing to himself, but I'm angry, too. "Why the fuck are you doing this? Is that-, is that Hyperopium?"
It is.
I know it is.
My mother was addicted to it, before she died at the hands of my father.

Eric fumbles for words a moment. "I-, I don't know! Maybe?"
"You're shooting up, and you don't even know what it is that you're shooting up?" I yell, in exasperation. "You're fucking killing yourself, man! Why are you fucking doing this? It's not gonna help anything; it just makes it worse."

Eric glares at me, darkly. "Get out of here. Now."
"Fine," I say, fed up with his bullshit. I turn around, and exit the room, slamming the door behind me.
This is fucking bullshit.