A Different Divergent Tale (Eric and Tris)

Chapter 56

I walk back to Eric on my balcony after shutting both doors.  I pace the glass doorway to my living room worriedly looking at the grey cloud filling my apartment—most likely memory serum. 
"Where am I?" Eric asks me. 
I give him my full attention. 
"Why does my hand hurt?" he inquires. 
"Eric?" I ask him worriedly. 
"Who's Eric?" he questions me. 
I shudder remembering that Jude said a vial-full would wipe an entire mind.  I pray to God that he'll be alright. 
"You're Eric," I tell him. 
He nods.  "Then... who are you?" he asks. 
"I'm Tris... your girlfriend," I say with a shaky voice. 
He looks confused. 
"Eric?  I want you to fight that feeling taking over your mind.  You are a fighter.  Don't let it consume you.  Remember!" I tell him. 
"Remember what?" he asks me. 
"Remember!" I shout. 
He still looks confused. 
"Shake out of it!" I insist grabbing him by the arms forcefully. 
He shakes his head slowly. 
"What am I doing?" he asks me. 
"Come back to me," I say pleadingly. 
"Who are you again?" he asks and I can't help but slap him. 
"Fight it!" I command him.  "Fight for us!  Remember!"
He looks to me and shakes his head roughly.  He puts his hands to his head.  He seems a little unstable on his feet so I back him up to a chair on my balcony and have him sit there.  He still has his head in his hands, still trying to shake out if it but it's obvious he's fighting it. I pray for him, for God to help him break out of that feeling the same way I did... but I didn't inhale nearly as much as he did.  I glance to the room to see the grey fog still pouring in.  I don't know what to do. How do I get out of this? How do I get it to stop? I don't know why... but I think of my mom on Monday, how she insisted I call her if I ever need anything.  I remember she said my dad forced her to take the weekend off and she mentioned she'd probably be sitting at home. 
Without thinking it over any further, I dial up their home number.  I don't have it saved into my phone but I do have my childhood phone number memorized. 
It rings once. 
"Hello?" my mom says. 
"Mom?" I ask worriedly. 
"Is everything alright?" she asks concerned. 
"You won't believe this... but grey serum is spewing from my ceiling.  My apartment is filled with it," I tell her. 
"Where are you now?" she asks. 
"We're on my balcony," I tell her. 
"Are you okay?" she asks. 
"Yeah, I'm fine.  But it's still filling up in my apartment and we're stuck out here," I explain. 
"Stay where you are.  I'll be there in thirty minutes," she says. 
"But what can you do about this?" I ask confused.  All I hear in response is a dial tone. 
I hang up and look back at Eric.  He still has his head in his hands and appears to be rubbing his temple. 
"Eric?" I ask softly. 
He hums a reply.  I laugh hopeful that he's actually responding to me.  I bend down and meet his eyes. 
"My head hurts," he says. 
"Do you remember me?" I ask hesitantly. 
"How could I ever forget you?" he smirks. 
I laugh in disbelief.  "You did, though," I insist grinning, attempting to hold back my excitement at this. 
"Yeah, but only for a minute," he defends jokingly.  I lean forward and kiss his temple... then his sore hand. 
"You missed, sweetheart," he tells me. 
"I missed?" I question confused, but I'm so grateful he's his old self. 
He motions to his lips with a tap of his finger and I can't help the smile on my face in reply.  He leans in and captures my lips firmly with his.  I sigh in response, so grateful for his memory to be restored.  He's his old self—completely dominating me.  I thank God for him as he picks me up and places me on his lap.  I wrap my arms around him clinging on for dear life, remembering how close I was to actually losing him.  I feel my eyes swell with tears to the brim, then overflowing down my cheeks in several trails.  I wipe the constant flow of tears from my eyes that just can't stop pouring out.  I try to hide it from him but he sees. 
"I'm alright," he insists. 
"I know," I nod with a sniffle. 
"I thought you weren't a crier," he teases. 
"You didn't know me," I defend wiping my eyes again. 
"I know," he says softly.  He pushes my hair out of my face and caresses my cheek. 
"How'd you do it?" I ask trying to distract myself from the emotional state I'm going through right now. 
"I don't know.  You slapped me... and it felt so... wrong—like I'd never let that happen.  It was as if my mind was tricking me and taking my normal responses and thoughts away.  I shook that out of my head and tried my best to fight this dark feeling taking over my mind," he elaborates. 
"Yeah, I felt it at the bottom of the ladder.  It felt weird and sticky... like it was trickling into my mind and sucking up my thoughts," I nod. 
"How'd you handle it?" he asks. 
"I don't know.  I guess I sort of shook it off, too," I shrug. 
"You did it that easily, though?" he asks me. 
"I was further away from you.  I inhaled less.  When I realized what was happening, I held my breath and pulled you out," I attempt to rationalize it.  I rest my head on his chest as he continues to hold me.  I feel a gentle caress across my hair, as if Eric is petting me but whatever calms him, I don't mind.  A thought occurs to me, though... the more I go back to that moment, the more the sensation was like being in a simulation. 
"So what's the plan?" Eric asks breaking me out of my musings. I look up to see his eyes focused on the cloud pouring into my apartment.
"I called my mom," I tell him halfheartedly.
"Does she know what to do?" he asks confused.
"I don't know," I reply. "She knows what's going on and said she'd come here, I assume to handle it."
"She does seem to know her stuff when it comes to the serums," he replies. "I can't believe this, though. There has to be a substantial reserve of that stuff somewhere. What's coming out is probably equal to that of the drums in the vault. It could take out a faction-wide mob."
"Do you think so?" I ask in surprise. "That just seems excessive," I say motioning to the amount still coming.
"Yeah," he nods.
"Who do you think is watching us?" I ask.
"I really have no idea," he responds. "I doubt this is Jeanine. She'd use death serum—at least that's what I've heard she has coming out of her level during break ins."
"Really?" I ask in shock.
"That's what I've heard," he shrugs.
I sigh and nod. I rest my head on his shoulder and I'm so grateful to be in his arms, that his mind is still intact. I look back to the grey fog still pouring in at a steady pace.  I notice some is dissipating somewhat, settling on the floor.  I sigh again.  If I can ever get it to stop, I wonder if I'll have to clean my apartment from floor to ceiling.  I notice a light coming in my apartment—the shape and location of my doorway to the hall.  I sit bolt upright in surprise. It disappears a moment later.  I see a figure in black move through the apartment and wonder what's going on.  They climb the ladder.  That same blue light from the shock of that system is visible along with a purple sort of glowing up near the ceiling.  I observe that the serum has stopped coming out.  I continue to watch as it's slowly settling more.  The figure approaches the window and I realize it's my mom... in black.  She knocks on the glass and mouths for us to stay here.  I see she has some sort of breathing apparatus over her face.  It appears to be glowing translucent purple like that of the ceiling connection a moment ago.  I rise completely from sitting on Eric and approach the glass in curiosity, taking in what she's actually doing.  Maybe she is a spy or something. 
I place both of my hands on the glass with my nose practically touching it as I observe her movements.  She's doing something with her wrist, it glowing that same purple hue.  I see some sort of holographic image come from her wrist—as if there's a device there or something.  It transforms shape and begins to spin.  I observe as it appears to become a fan-like machine directing the flow of the fog.  She moves the grey cloud away from the door near me and it clears the area substantially.  She opens the door momentarily and tosses two purple breathing masks similar to what she's wearing out to us before closing the door. 
"I think she wants us to wear these," I tell Eric putting it on and handing him the other. 
"Are you sure?" he asks me skeptically raising an eyebrow.  I see the door from my bedroom open around the corner from where I stand and the cloud billows out from there. 
"Yes!" I tell him forcefully even though my voice is muffled from the mask.  I speedily help him put it on as the grey mist fills the area around the corner.  We back away against the far wall—the hallway side closest to Eric's apartment.  We wait and observe as my mother blows the serum fog out of my far door.  It mixes with the clear air outside—blowing away and dispersing with the wind.  I glance inside my apartment through the living room windows when I see movement.  I watch in awe as my mother directs the flow of aerosol-sprayed serum out of the remainder of my apartment and through my bedroom.  We stand here and watch as she works.  The more I think about it, the more I wonder if Eric is right and she is a spy or has a different role in Abnegation than I'd always believed. 
She approaches the door and motions for Eric to follow her inside.  She puts a hand to me to remain.  I observe from the opened door as she has Eric climb up the ladder and push—or rather, forcefully shove—the recording/aerosol device back into place in my ceiling.  He does as she asks.  He is exceptionally strong... perhaps he broke it.  He climbs back down and joins my side out here on the balcony while I observe my mom doing something with her wrist device once more.  I see the blue and purple lights.  There's some sort of computer-like hologram that she interacts with the press of her hand.  I'm in awe watching the reaction.  She steps down from the ladder and selects something from her holographic screen.  A pastel blue aerosol billows out from the same spot as previously.  She allows the room to fill up with this mist and then blows it out the door from my bedroom just like the last. 
She approaches the door when its clear and lets us both in.  I step in and stare at my mom in shock.  She removes her mask with a pull of her hand.  She stuffs it into a grey satchel she's carrying on her back.  Eric and I remove ours as well.  I pass her mine, then him after she stows the first away.  I've got so many questions running through my mind but Eric beats me to it. 
"Who's watching us?" he asks her. 
She finishes tucking everything away and sighs.  She looks up around my apartment.  "I don't think this apartment has ever been used for leadership.  I like the colors you've chosen.  The paint looks good, too," she comments. 
"Thanks," I whisper in reply. 
She walks over toward the wall with the shiny, white rectangular shape.  It's extremely noticeable now that the paint has dried.  "This won't do," she says standing close to the wall.  She touches it and holds her palm and fingers spread out in the bottom right corner of the white space.  It flashes to life with light glowing from the rectangle—similar to that of a computer screen. 
Eric gasps beside me.  I glance to him and he's looking at the screen in awe.  I peer back to see my mom scrolling through a series of options.  It really is a computer screen. 
"What's the name of the paint color?" she asks me. 
"This one is cloud," I reply. 
She nods and changes the display color to match.  It looks almost perfect.  Even the sheen looks okay, not really that noticeable that it's different.  She steps away and looks at the rest of the wall touching the dried paint. 
"Eggshell?" she questions. 
"It is," I respond. 
She changes another setting and I realize the previous sheen was more glossy.  The appearance of the texture of the screen changes to match. 
"That's incredible," Eric comments softly. 
"That's nothing," my mom laughs lightly. 
"Who's watching us?" Eric asks again. 
"Just let me give you each a shot and perhaps everything will become more clear," she says. 
She grabs two syringes from her pack with clear liquid within. 
"What's it for?" I ask as she swabs my arm with an astringent wipe. 
"It'll get rid of the effects if you inhaled any of the serum," she explains. 
I sigh in relief in case there's something that Eric has forgotten.  She injects me and my mind feels clearer, the headache I didn't even notice I had relieved. 
"My headache is gone," I tell Eric. 
He nods and agrees to the injection. 
"How much did you two inhale?" my mom asks. 
"Just a little for me but Eric got a lot.  He kind of fought off the effects," I explain as she cleans his forearm and injects him with the same serum. 
"I figured as much.  He's just like his parents—not delusional like Jeanine," she replies. 
"What do you mean?" he questions. 
She bites her lip and looks him in the eye.  "If... if you didn't have your parents' genetic traits, this would have been the only way to restore your mind," she explains. 
He blinks in response. 
"That was a serum... and I combatted the effects with my mind.  That's what you're saying?" he verifies. 
She nods. 
"You're saying I'm Divergent?" he questions. 
"If you weren't, you couldn't have fought the effects," she explains softly. 
He shakes his head disbelievingly. 
"Eric, you're just like your parents are," she tells him softly. 
"You mean were?" he says but she doesn't respond. 
I see a flashing coming from her wrist.  She holds it up and displays something.  I reach out for her wrist and realize that it's not an attachment or anything.  I see a wire or something glowing underneath her skin.  It looks like she closes something, like a holographic file projected out of her wrist or a message maybe...
"What is this mom?" I ask her with my voice wavering. 
"I'm not exactly who you think I am, honey," she admits softly. 
"Then who are you?" I question. 
I see the light flashing on her wrist again.  She repeats the same dismal.  It does it a third time and she does the same thing.  I hear loud static surrounding us and then a voice. 
"This is unacceptable, Natalie.  This is not what you should be doing," a man's voice says into my apartment.  It almost echoes off the wall.  It has sort of an ominous feel from the reverberation.
"I'm sorry, David.  But I'm not going to wipe their minds," she responds dismissively. 
"What?" Eric asks harshly. 
The man sighs.  "I know she's your daughter, but you still have a job to do," he says firmly. 
"I've spoken to Amar about his meetings with Jeanine yesterday.  He told the others everything.  If you want an insider, he's your man," she replies to him.  This is how she spoke to Caleb and me growing up—her gentle and teaching voice, like this man should listen to her guidance. 
He sighs harshly again. 
"I would've preferred you," he replies. 
"There's no going back on past choices.  Eric is your only option now.  I suggest you take it," she tells him more firmly, yet still in a respectful manner. 
"This is not protocol," he insists. 
"Well, desperate times call for desperate measures.  If you want our city to be what was intended, you will allow us to try this new method," she advises. 
He sighs again and the screen behind us comes to life... with the image of a person—an older man. He's wearing a black suit coat—or possibly a military-like jacket—and a light blue button down dress shirt.
"Fine, we'll do this your way since any more serum than a slight amount could be detrimental. Plus, he's fought off the effects and is aware of the meaning behind that," the man—David—replies. "He's more like his parents are than Jeanine, despite what I had expected."
"You mean were," Eric corrects.
"No, I mean are," the man on the screen says.
"What!?" Eric questions clearly in shock. 
"Natalie got them out after Jeanine's attempted murder.  If she would have left them in the hospital's care within the city, your parents would actually be dead," he replies. 
"You're saying my parents are alive?" he asks in disbelief. 
He nods in reply. 
"Where are they?" I inquire. 
"Outside of your city," he responds. 
"Do you mean in Amity?  Or outside of our city?" I question. 
"Where are they now, David?  The last I heard they left the Bureau," my mom questions. 
"They're in Ohio," he replies.  Eric and I are completely lost.  He takes a seat in my chair, still in shock from the news.  I focus my attention back on their conversation. 
"Why Ohio?" Mom asks him. 
"Christopher found a job outside of our area.  I think it was too hard to see his children raised by Jeanine," he replies gently. 
"But why Ohio?  There's nothing there.  It hasn't changed much in over two hundred years," my mother replies.  And now I'm in shock, sitting on Eric's lap on the chair watching their conversation in bewilderment and awe. 
The man shrugs in response. 
"You know that old John Denver song?" she asks him. 
"Country Roads?" a dark-skinned man chimes in over David's shoulder. 
My mother laughs lightly.  "No, that's West Virginia," she shakes her head.  "You know that song... Saturday Night in Toledo, Ohio?"
"... is like being nowhere at all," the other man responds in song. 
David is grinning. 
"Amar?" Eric asks confused. 
"You know it, Nose!" he teases bending down within the screen parameters and waving.  "You've always had that... Erudite curiosity."
"You're alive?" Eric questions in disbelief. 
The man responds in affirmation. 
"Where have you been?  We all thought you were dead?" Eric persists.  He appears as if he really cares for this man—knows him well and they're good friends. 
"Egan and Jeanine were going to terminate me," he shrugs in the corner of the screen.  "Natalie saved me—she got me out."
"But why Ohio?" my mom asks again. 
"I think after everything that happened, they just wanted a little peace and quiet," David responds to her gently. 
My mom nods in understanding.  "So... are we good?" she asks David. 
He sighs in reply. 
"The proper amount of serum at this point would be problematic," he responds.  "They're all yours.  Just know, we'll be watching."
"As always," my mom mumbles in reply. 
"As always since the start of the city," David concurs nodding. 
My eyes widen at that admission. 
"Take care, Natalie.  It was good to see you," he says grinning.
"Goodbye, David.  Amar," she say waving to him. 
"Bye Nat and Eric.  Nice to meet you, Tris," Amar waves. 
The screen goes blank to just the backlight and then turns off, matching the wall. 
"Mom?" I ask her questioningly. 
"Why don't we have a seat?" she requests. 
"Alright," I nod in agreement.  "Sorry about the mess."  I start to pick up the drop cloths. 
She laughs lightly.  "I knew exactly what to expect," she admits. 
"You did?" I question confused. 
She grins at me and helps me to move the furniture back in place. 
"Why do you think that I had you and your brother constantly help me with painting the house? Always warning you not to paint the living room?" she says.
"Are there those types of devices in every home?" I question.
"Only leadership," she nods.
"All leaders?" Eric questions rising and helping as well. 
"All but Erudite. Jeanine has removed them... or at least has seized control over them. It's probably why she has her defenses set up the way she does," my mother nods.
We arrange the living room area and leave the rest for later.  Mom and I sit on the sofa, Eric on the chair beside us.  I think he's still somewhat in shock about his parents.  I don't blame him.  That would be devastating but unbelievable as well. 
I ask about the device in her wrist. She explains it a bit for me while I examine it—how it's just below the skin, a different technology than anything I've ever heard of. When its off, it's not noticeable at all—untraceable as well. Only she can activate it and only while conscious.
We talk more and she elaborates on how she's not from the city—from outside.  She was placed here to help with the Divergent situation when Norton was still in control.  She was supposed to go to Erudite.  Her grades weren't good enough so my father tutored her.  He found out about the testing Jeanine did on Factionless for Norton and wanted to leave.  She decided to go with him to Abnegation. 
"So, that's what David was saying?" I ask. 
"It is," she nods. 
"So, there's an entire planet of people beyond our boarders?" Eric asks. 
"There are," she nods.  "Not as many as you'd think.  Some areas are far worse than Factionless.  It's like stepping foot in the middle of a war zone.  Many people will kill each other for a sip of water or a bite of food—or just because they're mentally ill or cruel. That's what my childhood was like. Many of the people outside the fence are unstable."
She discusses more about the outside world and then tells us about the purpose of the city—that Divergent really are the goal.  All the ancestors of the city tampered with their genetic makeup and many are lacking valuable traits as a result, that the purpose of being here is to repair those problems over generations. All of this is very similar to the recording we saw from Abnegation, just filling in the gaps with more detail. She explains that my father knows nothing of her real past and the outside, that we can't say anything to him.
"How do you keep something like this a secret from the one you love the most?" I ask her.
"It's not easy, but I honestly know it'd be very hard for him to believe. At least you can share this with Eric," she replies.
I look to him and he meets my eyes. I do have that.
"What about the rest of leadership?" Eric asks her.
"This type of thing must remain a secret, although one knows," she says.
I look up to that black speck and remember Jude looking there. I voice my thoughts.
"He does know," she nods.
"He has a plan," Eric says softly.
"He does," she replies. "I just didn't know the ins and outs of Dauntless.  He's actually counting the days."
"Until what?" I question. 
"You'll find out soon enough," she smiles thoughtfully and pats my shoulder.  "I should be going or your father will worry."
"Alright," I say frowning. 
"It'll be fine.  Just know I'm only a call away," she tells me. 
I nod and walk her to the door. 
"I'll see you tomorrow," she tells me hugging me. 
Eric hugs her as well and we both say our goodbyes.  We both kind of clean up and straighten everything back the way it was in my apartment.  We both clean ourselves up and change in our separate bedrooms.  I close my curtain and notice that my orchid looks different.  It has almost a blue tinted shade along the edges of the flowers now.  I graze my finger on the delicate flower gently.  It's permanent—not coming off.  At least I have that shred of proof that I hadn't imagined the whole thing.  Eric was right—my mom is a spy. 
I change out of my paint clothes into something decent to go around the faction in.  I step back out to see him seated on my sofa looking up at the camera.