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Chapter Text

I'm not sure how Tobias managed it, but one way or another, he was able to bribe one of the factionless guards into handing over a truck. Once the property of Amity, it's now considered "communally owned". But, I figure, that's not important. All that matters is, we're outside the fence for the very first time.

A part of me longs for the safety and familiarity of Chicago, the only place I've ever called home. Two threads are tugging at me. One points to Chicago, the other leads into the unknown. As of now, we've yet to discover what lies in that unknown.

"Right now, there are two possibilities," Caleb says in a quiet voice. "We're either alone in the world, or we're not. Both possibilities are equally terrifying."

I want to tell him to shut up, that none of that matters when he betrayed me, delivered me to what I thought would be my execution. But I'm too tired to respond. So I let the movement of the truck rock me into a restless slumber.

All I'm aware of for fifteen minutes is the feel of Tobias' hand in mine. Then the truck screeches to a stop.

"What the -" Next to me, Uriah jerks awake. He glances at Zeke, who's behind the wheel. "What just happened? Why'd we stop?"

"Look. You see that?" I can't tell what Zeke's pointing to, but whatever it is, it must be a sign of civilization. I crane my neck so I can see out the window. Then I spot it.

A shack. A dilapidated structure made almost entirely out of wood, camouflaged by the surrounding trees and bushes. I look around, hoping to see other buildings nearby. Nothing. This must be the property of some hermit. Someone dangerous? My hand reaches for the knife in my pocket. I take the weapon out, my fingers shaking.

I've never even laid eyes on a person who isn't from Chicago. Or is there no one left outside? I wonder. I step out of the truck. Is Caleb right? Are we the only people left?

I don't want to admit it, but the thought terrifies me. Be brave, I tell myself. "Come on," I say to Tobias. "We should go check that place out."

"Good idea," he replies. He shoots Caleb a look. "You stay here. Uriah, keep him company."

Uriah nods. Is it my imagination, or does he look as petrified as I feel?

I shake my head. Get over it. I approach the abandoned structure, knife in hand. Behind me, I hear Tobias draw his gun. He inserts a single round and clicks it into place.

"Hey, tell me if there's food in there," Zeke calls out, probably in an attempt to break the tension. I don't look back. I'm too nervous to reply. Then, preparing for a fight, I enter the shack. Tobias is right behind me. We see no one.

"Um, Zeke? It's empty," Tobias shouts. I'm about to say something else, then I hear it.

Footsteps. Behind me. I know they're not Caleb's, yet they don't sound like Uriah's. And I know Zeke's still in the truck.

I whirl around, and see her.

A woman. She's around Tobias' age, maybe a few years older. Still, she's only an inch or two taller than me. She has olive skin and long, straight black hair. Her gray eyes widen as she takes us in. Then she lifts the bow in her hand, her other arm reaching for an arrow.

I'm closer to her, so I do the first thing I can think of. I kick her hard in the shin, and she gasps, stumbling forward. She falls to her knees, and in a second, Tobias has his gun aimed at her head. I point the knife in my hand at her throat.

"Drop your weapon," Tobias orders. She obeys, yet for some reason, I see no fear in her eyes. She stares at us with a blank expression on her face.

I break the silence. "Your name. What is it?"

She says, in a monotone voice, as if reciting the manifesto of her faction of origin, "My name is Katniss Everdeen. I am eighteen years old. My home is District Twelve. I was the Mockingjay. They tried to use me. First the Capitol, then President Snow, then the rebels, then President Coin. The Capitol has fallen. President Snow is dead. And I killed President Coin. No one will ever use me again." The last part, she spits out like venom.

Like at Al's funeral, when I asked Tobias if he should be paying his respects.

Well, I know how she feels. I am Divergent. And I can't be controlled.

However, I don't know what a "District Twelve" is, or a "Mockingjay", or a "Capitol". So I just stare at her in stunned silence. Finally, I lower the knife.

"Calm down," I say, trying my best to sound reassuring. "We're not going to hurt you. It's just that, well, we've never been outside of Chicago before. And we're Dauntless, you see, so we've been trained to respond like this to threats -"

I'm interrupted by footsteps. This time, they sound familiar. Zeke's. He looks as confused as we are. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. What's going on? Who is this?"

The woman - Katniss Everdeen - releases a sigh. "Do I have to repeat what I just said?"

"Alright, everyone just relax," says Tobias. He shifts the barrel of the gun away from Katniss' head, and directly addresses her. "I think we already know that you're not a threat. So why don't you just tell us who you are, and what you're doing out here."

"You tell me," she says, her eyes flitting back and forth, between Tobias and me. "Who're you? What's Chicago? And what do you mean by Dauntless? Were you two Peacekeepers?"

I don't know what a "Peacekeeper" is, either.

"Whatever that is, we aren't that," Tobias tells her. "We worked for the security of our city, Chicago. And up until now, we didn't even know a world outside of that existed."

Katniss nods, slowly. "And what are your names?"

"My name is Tobias." He points at me. "This is Tris, my girlfriend." Then at Zeke. "My friend, Zeke. And there are others outside. Tris' brother, Caleb, and Zeke's brother, Uriah."

"I'll go get them." Zeke gestures in the direction of the truck, then he's running toward it.

Katniss pushes herself up to a standing position. She eyes us distrustfully. "And how do I know you're telling the truth?"

"Listen, I know you must be afraid right now, but we need answers. And just think, if we wanted to hurt you, we would've done so already." I think of the moment Tobias said that same thing to me.

Katniss relaxes. Her hand moves away from the sheath of arrows at her side. "Go ahead. Ask me anything. Just remember, I could kill you. Now that I'm prepared."

Zeke comes back, with Uriah and Caleb in tow. I almost feel sorry for my brother. He looks terrified, as if he expects Katniss to kill him with her bow and arrows. But she doesn't. She sits down on the floor and releases her grip on the bow. "My name is Katniss Everdeen. I am eighteen years old. My home is District Twelve. I was the Mockingjay. I'm not anymore. No one will ever control me again."

"That makes two of us," I say. I smile at her, and it's genuine. "They tried to control me, too. The leaders of our city, I mean. The representative from Erudite - Jeanine Matthews - wanted to put me under mind control. She didn't know I was immune to it. Thankfully, she's gone now."

A ghost of a smile appears on Katniss' face. "I take it this means you weren't a Peacekeeper."

"We weren't Amity, that's for sure." Zeke chuckles. "Now can you tell us what a Peacekeeper is? Or a… District Twelve? A Mockingjay?"

With some reluctance, she starts to tell us. All about her home country, an enormous stretch of land known as "Panem". It meant "bread" in an ancient language. The country consisted of a ruling Capitol and twelve outlying districts. Every year, as punishment for a failed rebellion, the Capitol would force each district to send one boy and one girl to compete in the Hunger Games. This was a televised competition in which the youth, called tributes, were forced to fight to the death, until only one remained.

"Man," Zeke mutters, when Katniss finishes describing it. "And we thought Dauntless training was hardcore."

"Dauntless?" Katniss looks perplexed. Then it's our turn to tell her. About the faction system, and Dauntless initiation, and the conflict between Erudite and Abnegation. And the Divergent. Zeke makes sure to mention that I'm Divergent, and that Katniss "better watch out, 'cause she's got special brain powers."

"Special powers, huh? Then you are special." Katniss grins. "Unlike me."

"What do you mean?"

Katniss turns to look at me. "I was the Mockingjay. I led the rebellion that defeated the Capitol. Well, sort of. More like, the rebels plucked me from the masses and made me the face of the movement." She laughs. It's a pained, bitter laugh. "Not that I wanted them to. Before the rebellion started, I thought about running away. I thought, I'll just take my family with me and run, and never look back."

"So you didn't do anything? Just let the rebels be in charge?" Now I'm the one who's puzzled.

"Well, I did lead a false mission to assassinate the president. But that was just to get revenge for how he destroyed my home." She lowers her gaze. "My district had bombs dropped on it. It's being rebuilt now."

"Kind of like how the Erudite destroyed Abnegation." Maybe we are more similar than I thought. Still, I have to suppress a laugh. The rebels picked her, an unwilling pawn, to lead their movement? They picked someone who didn't even care enough about the cause to fight for it? She said that at first, she wanted to run away. I'm tempted to call her selfish, but I have a feeling there's more to her story.

"So what did you do? Did you lead a revolution in Chicago?" Katniss resumes staring at me.

"Oh, you should've seen it," Uriah chimes in, throwing an arm around me. "She's the bravest, most selfless person we know. We wouldn't have gotten out without her. She single-handedly stopped the simulation when Abnegation was attacked. She turned herself in to Erudite so Jeanine Matthews wouldn't kill anyone else. And it's 'cause of her that we managed to break into Jeanine's computer, and get the data about what's on the outside."

Katniss looks impressed. "Makes me look useless in comparison. All I did was look good on camera. While shouting angrily. And sometimes making a decent shot with an arrow." Again, she drops her gaze. "I also killed an innocent woman. She was in my way, and I skewered her through the heart."

"I make you look like a saint," I tell her. "I killed Will. One of my best friends. He was under the simulation. He ran at me, a gun in his hand, and I shot him. I was forgiven, but it still haunts me sometimes."

I'm not sure why I'm saying this to her, but then again, she's told us a lot about her own life. Maybe a part of me wants to be friends with her. Maybe it's just the Abnegation in me.

Her eyes land on the tattoo on my collarbone. "What's it stand for? The tattoo, I mean."

"My family," I tell her. "I knew I'd be leaving them behind when I switched to Dauntless, but I wanted something to remember them by." I point to the ravens on my skin. "Three of these, representing my mother, my father, and my brother." Caleb. The traitor. I want to glare at him, but I can't break eye contact with Katniss.

She opens her jacket. Now I can see something stuck to the front of her shirt. It's a gold pin, carved into the shape of a bird. "It's a mockingjay pin," she explains. "My friend Madge gave it to me. That was how I got my name."

"Cool," Uriah says. He inches closer.

"I was also called the 'girl on fire'. It's kind of a sick joke now." Katniss leans forward, and in the light, I can see the burn scars on her face. They've faded somewhat.

"Fire? Man, that's amazing! Just like the symbol of Dauntless." Zeke has a wide grin on his face. He playfully elbows Katniss. "Guess this means you're Dauntless."

"Doubt I'm brave enough, Zeke." She laughs.

Tobias is checking his watch. "I hate to interrupt this conversation, but we've been here long enough. We should get back before night falls. And someone needs to tell Evelyn what we found."

"Evelyn? You're sure you can talk to her?" I still don't trust Tobias' mother. The threat from the Erudite may be gone, but the threat of factionless tyranny remains.

"Tris," Tobias says evenly, "I'm still her son. Maybe she'll see that when I meet with her. Besides, what else can we do? I don't feel like talking to one of those… Peacekeepers."

"You're right," I admit. Tobias waves Uriah, Caleb, and Zeke out the door. Zeke and Uriah say their goodbyes, promising to visit someday. Caleb just purses his lips and remains silent. Soon, all three of them have left. I tell Tobias to wait one minute.

"So, Katniss," I say, turning back to the woman. "Can I ask you something? I just want to know more."

"Ask away." Her gray eyes meet mine.

"So you volunteered for the Games, and won. Along with that boy, Peeta. And then… you chose to help the rebels, even though you didn't want to? Why?"

"It's simple, really," she says. "I volunteered to save my sister. They picked her instead of me. And I just couldn't let her do it. So I stepped in, and I promised I'd do my best to come home. And I did. Then the rebellion started, and Peeta was captured. The rebels thought he was a traitor. So I agreed to help them, on the condition that they'd spare him."

"Wow," I say. "Zeke was right. You are brave." I smile. "And selfless. Divergent."

She shakes her head. "I didn't do much, really. I couldn't even save Prim. She's dead now. The rebels killed her, then blamed it on the Capitol. They got the Capitol to surrender. But I never got what I fought for."

I stare at her. She's not really looking at me, but at some point in the distance. "Listen, I…" I struggle to find the right words to say. "Here's what my mother would say. People are flawed, and we should be lenient with them. And if my father were here? He'd say to let the guilt teach you to do better next time."

Something in Katniss' face changes. "Your father. Is he still alive?"

I shake my head. "Neither is my mother. They died when Abnegation was attacked." I let out a small cough. "They died protecting me."

It takes a long time for Katniss to reply. When she does, her voice seems to have dropped an octave. "My father did the same thing. I just didn't realize it at the time. I was eleven then. I remember how much he hated it when coal dust would get everywhere, on every surface, whenever he'd come home from work. How it would gather in the lines of his face, and he could never scrub it all off. That persistent cough he had that wouldn't go away. How sometimes, Prim would ask him to sing her to sleep, and the notes would come out sounding like a scratched-up record."

She wipes her eyes with a hand. "I asked him why he kept going back to the mines, if he hated it so much. He said, and I'll never forget this, his job was to mine just enough coal to keep the Capitol happy, and keep us kids fed and warm. He didn't want to go, that was true. But he wanted Prim and me to be safe and warm and happy."

Another pause. "He died a few weeks later. Mining accident." A bitter laugh. "Little did I know I lost two parents that day, not just one. I think my poor mother's heart was broken. I was forced to watch as she sort of… slipped away. Then I was taking care of Prim on my own. I didn't want to have to be her mother and father. But I wanted her to be cared for. You know, like my father wanted for me."

I'm stunned. I never expected Katniss to share this much with me. Just when I think she's done, she goes on. "My father died doing what was best for me," she says. "He died for me. That was when I realized, I should try to live for Prim." Her lower lip wobbles. "I tried. But I failed."

I sigh. "How many kids do you think you saved when you became the Mockingjay?"

Katniss' gaze shoots up, and suddenly she's gaping at me, unable to speak. I take this opportunity to speak to her instead. "I meant it," I say, "when I called you selfless and brave. You are Dauntless, through and through. And you're Abnegation, too. You can be forgiven for all you've done to get here. I believe it."

Am I saying these words to her only, or am I also saying them to myself? Because I do believe it. I am not the worthless person I thought I was when I gave myself to Jeanine. I am worth it. And I think this strange woman is, too.

Katniss manages a smile. "Thanks," is all she can get out.

"I'll be back soon. I'll bring the others," I tell her, as I start to leave. "Big things will be happening in the future. One way or another, our two societies are going to meet. But I feel like it'll be easier if we work together." And with that, I'm out the door.

The ride back home is oddly quiet. Not even Zeke has much to say. I lean into Tobias, staying silent, but my mind's buzzing with questions. What's it like in Panem now? Will they accept us? What if they start another war?

My thoughts are interrupted when Tobias speaks up. "So, Tris. That woman Katniss has a husband, Peeta. I thought I heard her say he owns a bakery." A sly grin makes its way onto his face. "You think he'll make us some Dauntless cake for free?"

And suddenly we're all laughing. Despite the daunting task that's ahead of us, I suddenly feel hopeful. Maybe we haven't found the solution to all of our problems, but whatever it is, it starts with getting to know the people outside. As far as I can tell, we've already made one friend.

I smile. Life has a way of messing things up, and sometimes, people are broken almost beyond repair. But it's also true that we can be mended. We mend each other.

Chapter Text

I stare at the receding vehicle, listening to their idle chatter as they fade away. At one point, one of them - Tobias - mentions Peeta's bakery, and they all laugh. I pause for a moment before turning away. I don't know what they find so funny, or how they manage to laugh so often, when they've just left a war-torn city.

I walk back to the house. My eyes follow the path of their footsteps in the dirt, where they carelessly trampled the undergrowth. My sanctuary, the woods, has once again been disturbed by strangers. Anger flares up inside me, but I try to let it go. It's been months since I had a conversation with anyone other than Haymitch or Peeta.

I suppose I shouldn't expect any more from the others. Not even my mother, though she did come back once, before Peeta and I married. She came bearing a wedding gift, but soon after, she retreated back into her busy little world, somewhere inside the clinic in Four. Well, she did lose a dear friend to the Games, the love of her life to a mine accident, and the most innocent of her children to a bomb explosion. Who's left? Me, an empty shell in place of the old Katniss. A lonely wanderer with nothing left to live for.

No, wait - there's the warmth of the house with him in it, the aroma that drifts from the kitchen every time he's there. Peeta. The one I need the most.

Then there's the girl from that distant city, Chicago. The girl whose name is Tris. I can't help but like her, the way I liked Cinna the instant I met him. She told me big things would happen soon, that the people from Chicago would soon join us. The same people who started a war in their own territory. The thought makes the ache in my head worsen. I hurry to find the path leading back home.

I cross through the fence at my usual spot, and arrive home just in time to see Peeta. He greets me with a smile, and I try to smile back. As he makes dinner for both of us, I sink into the couch cushions and try to make sense of what Tris told me.

"You can be forgiven for all you've done to get here. I believe it." A warm feeling worms its way into my heart. Why did I feel safe with this girl? Why did I trust her with my deepest, darkest secrets? I don't know. But I do know I like her the best, out of all the refugees from Chicago. I didn't have the heart to tell Tris, but her partner, Tobias, puts me on edge. And Zeke and Uriah remind me too much of the citizens of the Capitol.

Peeta finishes cooking. We sit down to eat. And then, in between bites, the whole story pours out of me. How I met a group of refugees in the woods. How one of them, Tobias, pointed his gun at me. How I eventually learned that there's an isolated settlement out there, a place called Chicago. I don't mention the feeling of safety I had with Tris, though. Something tells me that should stay between her and me.

"What should we do? Are they coming back tomorrow?" Peeta's genuinely curious, but there's nothing more to tell. The refugees left unexpectedly, perhaps to tell their leader that there's civilization on the outside.

I can only imagine what they'll say when they stumble upon the ruins of the arenas.

After dinner, I immediately go to bed. I'm exhausted from hours of hunting. Only one dream comes to me. I'm spending a peaceful afternoon with Prim in the woods. We meet at my father's lake house, where I first bumped into Tris and the other refugees. Prim and I get ready to have a picnic. I look up, and Prim is smiling. A strange thought registers in my mind. Her eyes are the same shade of blue as Tris'.

Then I'm pulled out of the dream. Sunlight washes over me. I'm disoriented, then I remember I have a job to do. I climb out of bed and look for my bow and sheath of arrows.

Something pulls me up short. What else do I have to look forward to? I creep downstairs, searching for Peeta. He isn't there. I got up earlier than usual this morning.

I'm sorting through the mail when I find it. A letter from Gale. He always writes once a month, and now he's sent a picture of his family. His wife Rachel and baby daughter Marion. The dark-haired, fair-skinned child's balanced on Gale's leg. Her mother's reaching over to caress her cheek, not looking at the camera. Even so, I remember Gale's wife's face clearly. Piercing green eyes, a smattering of freckles over her nose, her hair an untamed orange mane. I wonder if her personality matches her looks. If so, I wish Gale good luck in the marriage.

I write Gale back, mostly rambling nonsense about Peeta and me, Haymitch's visits, the bakery, and our hopes for the future. Then I seal the letter in the envelope and attach the stamp.

The next letter's from Johanna. Her handwriting's so messy, it's near impossible to read. She says she's gotten a bit better. She got in trouble with the authorities once for punching her head doctor, but she's okay now. They gave her a reduced sentence. Community service.

I put the paper down, and think about giving Johanna a call. Call. Who else should I call? My mother, for one. She's not coming back anymore, not after what happened to Prim…

Wait. An image of Prim flashes through my mind. Prim. The dream. Her blue eyes, the same color as Tris'. I'll be seeing Tris again soon. I'll be looking into those eyes, and they'll remind me of my sister, who…

I smack one hand into the tabletop, my palm stinging from the impact.

When Peeta finally emerges from his bedroom, he has no idea why I'm trembling. He doesn't press me for details, though. We chat idly about the same old topics. The bakery. Haymitch's geese. Hunting. Gathering. Learning to cook with Greasy Sae.

Peeta kisses me goodbye, and then I'm heading outside. I stop to put fresh flowers on Buttercup's grave. Prim wouldn't want me to forget.

Prim. Prim. Prim. Why can't I stop thinking about her? Maybe I should get away. I pay Haymitch a brief visit. Feed the geese in his front yard. Then I head into town, stopping to buy a bottle of liquor. I stash it away in my bag, as I don't intend to drink its contents until later. I have a job to do. I enter the woods at my usual place.

The afternoon goes by uneventfully. That's a good thing. I manage to catch two squirrels and a rabbit. The girl named Tris doesn't show up, and it crosses my mind that I may have imagined the encounter.

Dr. Aurelius was right. I have been drinking too much.

Evening comes. I return home. Peeta's already there. He asks a few questions about Tris, but I don't say much. If I imagined it all, maybe it's best to forget right now.

I sag into the couch cushions. I take the bottle of liquor out of my bag and uncork it. Then I toss it back and down its contents in one gulp. I understand now, why it didn't take long for Haymitch to become addicted.

The cycle repeats. Wake up. Go downstairs. Talk to Peeta briefly. Go into town and buy a bottle of liquor. Hide it away in my bag. Spend the entire afternoon hunting. Then, to chase away the unwelcome memories of Prim and Tris and the others, drink. In the morning, when I'm no longer hungover, forget. Start anew.

"Drug yourself out and paint flowers on your body. Not such a bad life."

Once or twice, I dial Johanna's number on the phone. It rings and rings and rings, and then I give up. A week later, I get a message from her head doctor. She was sent to a rehabilitation facility in Six. Apparently she overdosed on morphling. She might get better soon, or she might not.

The next day, when I visit Buttercup's tomb, I put down twice as many flowers.

The cycle repeats. Wake up. Go downstairs. Talk to Peeta. Buy a bottle of liquor. Hide it away. Go hunting. Come back. Drink. Go to sleep, and in the morning, forget. Sometimes that pattern's disrupted. Either because Dr. Aurelius calls, or someone visits and I can't make them go away. On the anniversary of the day they dropped the bombs, Peeta and I visit the memorial.

Wake up. Go downstairs. Talk to Peeta. Buy a bottle of liquor. Hide it away. Go hunting. Come back. Drink. Go to sleep. In the morning, forget. The cycle comforts me. Then, on a windy September morning, it happens.

I'm in the living room, making a game of counting the specks of dust in the air. The phone rings. I pick it up, only to hear Haymitch's voice. "Katniss! Got news for you."

"Yeah?" Wonder if he knows I'm drunk.

"Group of people came in from an unknown area. They call it Chicago. One of 'em's looking for you. Short, blonde, looks kind of like Prim." He stops short. "I didn't mean that."

"It's okay," I mumble. Who is this girl he's referring to? I dig through my memories, coming up with nothing.

"Girl said her name's Tris." I nearly drop the phone in surprise.

So I didn't imagine it. The group from Chicago's returned, and soon, many will follow. Tris among them. My heart speeds up a little. Am I relieved, or terrified?

If I see Tris again, I'll be reminded of what Haymitch said about Prim. That makes the decision for me.

I don't want to hear Haymitch's voice any longer, so I hang up. Then I return to counting, safe in the knowledge that the group doesn't know where I live.

Over the next few days, I hear vague bits of news. One of Paylor's representatives paid a visit to Chicago. The people are now free to venture beyond the fence. If they so choose, they will be integrated into the general population of Panem. Paylor will not choose a side in the conflict between the factionless and faction loyalists. If another war breaks out, Panem will intervene to try and restore peace.

I tune out the news. These days, the reports from the Capitol mean little to me. I spend the majority of my time with the bottle. Peeta's a source of comfort, but every passing day pulls us further and further apart.

The best thing to do is surrender. I feel myself traveling back in time, to the bare room in the Capitol where I waited out my trial. Only this time, I'm sedating myself with liquid poison. Each day, I drink. I drink enough to be able to compete with Haymitch, not that I'd be proud of it. I wander aimlessly through the woods like a ghost. I forget to visit Buttercup's grave.

Peeta tries to rouse me from my deadened state. I don't think he'll succeed. Sometimes, late at night, I see my mother. I wish I could talk to her, tell her I'm sorry. I understand now, why she was so weighed down by grief that she couldn't move, why she had such a hard time getting out of bed in the morning. I understand how she felt, and I regret yelling at her.

Days pass, then weeks. I continue to tune out information about the Chicagoans, especially Tris. With her special brain powers, she must be busy, anyway. What I do is drink. Talk to Peeta. Buy liquor. Answer the occasional letter from Gale. Hang up photos of him and Rachel, and of Annie and her baby son. Go through the motions.

I can no longer keep track of time. "What day is it today?" I sometimes find myself asking Peeta. Sometimes I lose my way in the woods, and have to backtrack in order to get home. The days blend together with the nights. I stop sleeping in the same bed as Peeta. More often than not, I drift off on the couch, an empty bottle on my lap.

It's on one particular morning that I feel an urge to leave the house. I stumble out the door and down the street. I don't stop to look for Peeta. Is he already at the bakery? I don't know.

I've almost reached town when I remember. I didn't leave to purchase another bottle. It's been a month since I last visited Buttercup. Now I need to replace the flowers that have surely wilted.

I turn, and smack right into a man from the Seam.

"Watch where you're going, girl." He shoves my shoulder. There's only one way I'll react to that kind of touch.

I pull my arm back, empty bottle in hand, and swing with all my might at the man's face. Of course, due to last night's drinking session, I'm horribly off balance. I miss my target. The bottle flies out of my hand and shatters into pieces on the ground.

The next thing I know, the man's scarred hand is wrapped tightly around my arm. He yanks me forward and flings me to the ground. Unable to resist, I fall flat on my face. I look up just in time to see the man bending over me, wielding a sinister weapon. It's a shard of glass from the broken bottle. Then it happens.

Bang. What? What was that? Now the man's screaming bloody murder.

I'm too stunned to do anything at first. Then my eyes register the crumpled body of the Seam man. He lies in the road, blood soaking his pant leg. I glance to the side.

A girl stands there, her fingers wrapped around the handle of a gun. Her blond hair's tied back in a knot, and there's a steely look in her blue eyes. She's smaller in stature, but she carries herself with power.

It's Tris. Tris saved me.

"You all right?" I nod. She holds out a hand and helps me up.

I'm about to thank her, when someone behind her speaks up. "Look here, blondie," the voice growls. "You ain't got no right to shoot somebody. Especially when you ain't from these parts."

They're carting the Seam man away. He's still screaming and clutching at his leg, but I barely notice. I know who the voice belongs to. It's Angela. She's an officer who regularly patrols the area.

Tris looks shocked. In her eyes, I see her admission of guilt. She opens her mouth to confess, but I beat her to it. "Actually, she was defending me. That man tried to kill me. If she hadn't stepped in, I'd be dead."

"You're sure? Thought I saw her whip out that gun on an innocent man," Angela retorts.

Tris blanches. I remember what she told me, how she confessed to killing her own best friend.

"I'm sure," I reply. She takes a threatening step forward, but then a man in uniform chimes in. "Simmer down," he says to Angela. "Whatcha gonna do? Pick a fight with the Mockingjay?" He lets out a gravelly laugh.

Angela's eyes narrow. "Alright, blondie," she mutters, pointing a finger at Tris. "We're letting you off just this once. Try to stay out of trouble from now on." She and her partner walk off.

Tris sighs with relief. I'm too exhausted to speak, so when Peeta comes to take me back home, I don't argue. I let him carry me back to the house. I think about continuing my little game, where I counted the little specks of dust in the air, but I don't have the energy to do even that.

I reach for a bottle, and find that there are none left.

The morning wears on. Afternoon sets in. At some point, Tris shows up to visit. I'm not even aware it's her until I see her small figure. She lowers herself onto the couch, right next to where I'm seated.

"Hello," she ventures. "You… okay? I don't know if you knew that guy, but -"

"I didn't know him. Just one of the drunks from the Seam. Thanks again, by the way," I remind her.

Tris grins. "No problem. We're Dauntless. We train to be prepared for this kind of thing. Preparation eradicates cowardice, as Tobias would say." She touches my arm. "So how's it going? I know it's been a while since we met. But I remembered you, and I wanted to pay you a visit."

I shrug. "I'm hanging on. Just barely."

I'm not being sarcastic. Can she see that?

"That's fine," she tells me. "It's not like we're doing any better. Zeke and Uriah say they can't get used to the food here. And Caleb, my brother? He got assigned to work in a factory. District Three. When he originally applied to work in District Two."

I laugh. "Should be fun, seeing how they hold up."

"And what about you?" Tris suddenly looks worried. That's when I realize what I must look like. Hair unwashed and unkempt, eyes bloodshot, skin sallow. I probably resemble Haymitch on his worst day.

"It's been a difficult few weeks," I say evasively.

Tris sighs. "Sorry to hear that. If you didn't want me to come, I'll just make this quick. I came so I could say thank you."

That gives me a jolt. "What?" I say.

Tris nods. "I mean it. You didn't realize it at the time, but that story you told got me to do something I needed to do. What I'm saying is, because of what you told me, I was able to forgive my brother."

"Your brother?" I'm even more confused.

"Yeah. Caleb." Tris wipes at her eyes with a hand. "I didn't tell you this, but at one point he… betrayed me. He sided with Jeanine Matthews, the leader of the Erudite, and took me to my execution. Someone else saved my life, and later, Caleb realized he was wrong. But I didn't forgive him right away. Actually, I thought I'd never forgive him."

I listen patiently. This must be how Dr. Aurelius feels. Tris goes on. "Then I heard what you said about your dad. It made me think of my parents. Specifically, the last time I was with them." A tear shines on her cheek. "They died for me. That means I should live for them. I didn't want to forgive Caleb, but I wanted to live as they would've lived."

"You did," I tell her quietly. She smiles at me.

"Thanks. By the way, I almost forgot. I brought you a gift." She hands me a small box. I accept it. Slowly, I remove the lid. "Dauntless cake, specially made." There's a grin on Tris' face. "That better or worse than what your husband makes for you?"

I return Tris' smile. "Thanks a lot," I say. Suddenly, a strange impulse grips me. "Tris," I ask her, "can you give me your phone number?"

"Why?" But she doesn't look insulted.

"Just so we can talk. Maybe invite each other over?" The words spill out of my mouth. "Maybe… you and your Dauntless friends and I can all get together sometime."

"You know what? That's an excellent idea." Tris gives me her number. The next thing I know, she's suggesting a picnic in the woods with Tobias, Zeke, and Uriah. I find myself nodding along, agreeing with her. When she gets up to leave, I realize I want her to stay.

That night, I sleep in the bed next to Peeta. It occurs to me that I never went out to purchase another bottle. When was the last time I forgot to have a drink? A grin works its way onto my face.

All right, so I'm not completely healed. But I don't have to be. I remember something Tris said about being brave. Being Dauntless, as she calls it. Bravery isn't always a heroic stunt or a great sacrifice. Sometimes it's the work of many days, strung together in a long line, until the origin of them is forgotten. Sometimes it's nothing more than making better decisions. Making a better life.

I can do that. Tris could, and she believes in me.

I am brave.