#but these traits all exist with being attached to something or something else (the navy and Ice)

[stopthatfool]

Currently trying to understand and pinpoint Ron "Slider" Kerner. Who are you Slider... what are your motivations... what are your goals... what is your favourite colour... why are you in the navy...

if anyone has any concrete thoughts about slider... please share them with me... who is this man... do you think he listens to nickelback? or does he think Metallica is the greatest band of all time?

[roaldseth]

Dankovsky (patho) or/and Gale (dds)!

You said “/and” and I am taking thatopportunity.

DANKOVSKY:

Why I like them

Second-handfavoritism—from you. Sometimes I like characters because of other people thatlike whatever said character. Psych myself up for something, I will attach toit. And I like his appearance. He has an appealing design, and I have to saythat characters describing him as corpse-like in passing sometimes ispersonally appealing.

Why I don’t

… well,he is kind of an asshole. Realistically, I wouldn’t bother with people likethat, but in terms of character traits it makes him interesting.

Favoritescene

TheMarble Nest as a whole. The cycle storytelling is very appropriate in terms ofthe endings that can be chosen, and the fact that there���s essentially no way to“win.” It’s a lot of traveling around aimlessly that gives an air ofhopelessness, whether you complete or botch the quests, you can’t reach thecharacter’s ultimate goal, but you can get yours as a player.

Favorite line

Wouldn’tsay it’s “favorite,” but the only thing I can readily think of atthe moment is: “what’s in you pockets, pumpkin?” Or at least I think that’swhat he says when you want to barter with small female children.

Itseems like one of the few times he’s actually “welcoming,” kind of likeGordon Ramsay when he talks to children versus talking to people that thinkthey know what they’re doing. I imagine him squatting down or kneeling or something to met the girls’ levels when saying it.

Favoriteoutfit

Newremake outfit > original outfit.

… hedid have those platform boots in his original art…

OTP

Burakh/Dankovsky

I willadmit that I entered the Pathologic fandom—if that’s what you can call it—allsorts of backwards. I’ve read fanfiction before actually “experiencing” thegame, and if fanfiction has ever made me ship a ship, it’s with these two. (Ihaven’t braved google translate, but) they way people write them like somesnarky (vaguely domesticated) couple is something I can get behind.

brOTP

I don’tknow. Dankovsky and Isidor or Rubin? They were colleagues, right? Or Andrey for That One Time In College feeling?

HeadCanon

Unsure.

Unpopularopinion

Also unsure.

A wish

maythe remake be release by the end of the year.

Consideringit’s impossible for him to escape his fate: may healways have a good bed to sleep on, enough food to not starve, and an abundanceof smowders and ammunition.

Anoh-god-please-dont-ever-happen

Honestly,I’m not quite sure. I haven’t given it enough thought. I mean: the man’sdealing with a plague. His life can’t get much worse.

5 wordsto best describe them

100%done with everyone’s shit?

Or:Steadfast, analytical, irritable, influential, and tired.

Mynickname for them

If I’m trying to becheeky, I’ll refer to him as Dr. Dank or Dan/Daniel, but most of the time Itake the time to say/type out “Dankovsky” or use the common diminutive “Danko.”

GALE:

Why I like them

I like his logic and level-headedness. He’s the one to suggest something out of probability, butwill place his tactics in gambits—quick to adjust and assess for situation andwhat’s called for.  He’s onlyan advisor, but will take action if deemed appropriate.

Not to mention he’s brain AND brawn. Hisbiceps give me vitality.

Perhaps there’s also a fondness for him “notcomprehend[ing]”—that he has to put a little bit more effort to awakeningto/understanding emotions. It’s a sense of (wanting to see) accomplishments andgrowth, I suppose. When everyone else around you seems to be achievingimportant life goals/markers, and you just can’t or at such a slower pace thatit get’s discouraging. But, in the end, Gale does get emotions, and it’s all themore satisfying seeing them.

Why I don’t

Not applicable. Everyone loves Gale.

Favoritescene

TheChurch’s forced interrupt in chapter 3 of Quantum Devil Saga.

It’s aninstance of vulnerability that does not really get translated within DigitalDevil Saga. The novel takes the time to point out that Bishops’ “headspaces”are very important, fragile pieces of a tribe. It invokes a feeling of pity and“feeling sorry for” this near non-human(ly described) character being subjectedto the higher power. The description given clearly displays Gale is in pain,but Serph’s calm, articulate reaction gives off the impression that it issomething that has happened before. Of course, Serph doesn’t take lightly tothis. And once everything is all said and done, Gale just comes back/wakes uplike it was no big deal, shrugging it off saying it was his duty.

Favoriteline

The firstthing that had come to mind was: “We have the advantage. Proceed.”

To me,there was nothing quite like going into a battle and hearing that being spoken.It’s done so distinctly casual. No second thoughts. No smugness. Just stated. If I wasan enemy and heard that, it would’ve probably made me very uncomfortable.

Andit’s also this distinction of approval.

Favoriteoutfit

DDS uniform > QDS uniform

I prefer the grey to the navy because it gives off more of amysterious, undefined existences, rigid, static, techno dystopian air. And the hood shiftsto a way more appealing design, in my opinion. I don’t understand the “windows”(but I will admit I do prefer it being closed), and the earpieces (that I don’treally know what to call if it even has a name) looks like it’s designed forsomething audio/sound related in DDS, and it’s not really defined/hard to interpret in QDS.

Plus, itdoesn’t look like DDS Gale is hiding a mullet under that hood.

OTP

I’llship him with Lupa, I’ll ship him with Angel.

brOTP

Galeand Cielo, Gale and Serph; might as well toss Gale and Roland in there, too, as a concept/could-have-been dynamic.

HeadCanon

It’smore of a theory than headcanaon, and a rather extensive one, but simplified:David knew Greg—that they were colleagues in the International EnvironmentalStabilization Committee—and that’s why Gale reacted strongly in relations toLupa.

Unpopularopinion

Not really an unpopular opinion, but more of a point to be made.

I remember readingthreads and post from younger days of this fandom that generally grouped theLokapala into being a “terrorist group” or the one’s acting in some sort ofextremist way, but Gale is the one shown to have reacted to fear and terror asa resource.

When Gale is the playable character, Roland points this out saying: “I suppose you could scare civilians and then use their confusion as a tactical diversion… That’s what you were going for, right Gale?” 

Argilla suggests that Gale might actually be amused by their panic when saying: “I’m starting to feel sorry for them… Don’t tell me you’re enjoying it.” 

Gale is not a terrorist. He did not initiate the action that caused the panic and confusion, nor was the source—god retracting data from the earth—political or ideological or anything of that ilk, but it’s interesting for him using what is around him with that in mind. Not to mention the scarcity we see of his counterpart, David Gale, is during the aftermath of a terrorist attack against the Cuvier Syndrome Isolation Ward.

A wish

That Lupa was also reincarnated, and Gale was able to befriend him in thatlife as well. That’d be nice.

Anoh-god-please-dont-ever-happen

Unfortunately,I can’t think of an answer for this, not that I would want something terribleto happen, I just can’t think of anything.

5 wordsto best describe them

tactical,astute, intelligent, loyal, and… tall(?)… he’s pretty tall…

Mynickname for them

I was going to say that I don’t have any, but then Iremembered That One Time I tried to get a friend to play Digital Devil Saga andhe can’t remember any of the character’s names to save his life. If I refer to him to asanything other than “Green DJ” or “Venus Fly Trap” he probably won’t know whomI’m referring to…

I don’t know, he thought he looked like some futuristic punkDJ, I guess.

[beautifulramblingbrains]

Bound By Chains - The Final Chapter

Pairing: Eric/OC Fandom: Divergent Rating: M

She’s bound to a monster. And he has personality issues.

A/N will be at the bottom. 

Tags: @dauntlessmetalmom @equalstrashflavoredtrash @badassbaker @red-diary @pathybo @murmelinchen @insertamazingwords @feminamortem @halefiresurvivor @suchlonelymuchsoul @elaacreditava @lauraaan182 @synnocence @jcause @glittergiirlgg @platitudinise @frecklefaceb @mimigemrose @sparklemichele @beltz2016 @ariwolff14 @queensoybean @impalalala6799 @tomarisela @original46 

“Hello, Sarah.”

For a minute the young Abnegation stands stuck in the doorway, hand still firmly gripping the handle. There is a persuasive voice in her brain telling her that her chance to run is now.

But what to run back to? Her cage? To how things are always going to be? An endless cycle?

Clair touches her shoulder causing her to scare but she steps into the room nonetheless. When the door is shut, Jeanine’s eyes still stay firmly planted on her. The expression gracing Jeanine’s face tells her that she already knows how fearful she is of this situation, that she truly doesn’t trust an inch of the Erudite woman.

If Sarah was smarter she would have tried harder to appear unbothered or nonchalant until she got back behind closed doors. But right now, every ounce of confidence dwindles.

“Please… do take a seat.” Jeanine motions to the one Sarah usually occupied while at work. “I don’t bite.”

Wordlessly, and reluctant, Sarah waddles further into the room, catching the icy look Jeanine sends her overly large stomach in the process. “I’ve heard so much about you. Finally, we get our chance to meet.” Once sitting in the chair, she lives up to her name. Stiff. “I see you weren’t expecting to see me.”

“I’m unsure of what is really going on. My knowledge has been limited.”

Jeanine’s eyes brighten slightly and she unclasps her hands, tilting backwards till her spine sat impeccably straight. Sarah’s sight falls upon her flatly ironed shirt under her blue blazer. The navy color completely washed the woman out, but at the same time suited the coldness she felt in her presence. Jeanine’s voice snaps her from her scouring, “I like you. Straight to business. Honest. I see the attractive traits everyone else seems to be so opinionated over.”

Sarah tears fall uncontrollably while still frowning at the woman, all from a bunch of different emotions: Confusion. Uncertainty. Fear. She questioned exactly why she was here; why she would bother putting herself through this. But deep down she knew why.

“I’m not here for business. I’m here for my baby...and me,” she quickly says while lowering her eyes slightly. “Can we just…” she hesitates, pulling on her sleeve to wipe away a stray tear, “...can we get this over with?”

“I can see how greatly this situation distresses you. So, certainly, we can skip the minor details.” Leaning down to one side, she eloquently picks something from the floor and pushes it across the desk towards Sarah. “This is yours.”

“What is-” She stops herself from asking, sheepishly picking up the A4 envelope. It feels light, only a few sheets of paper inside with something rigid at the bottom. They stay quiet till she pulls out the few sheets, one with a card attached.

“That is your points card,” Jeanine explains evenly after a moment. “I had the balance checked and it was suspicious you have never used it. It’s mandatory for every fully fledged faction member to receive one once they’ve passed initiation.”

Sarah gapes at the card, clutching the envelope to her chest. “This is mine?”

“Yes, Sarah, it is yours and has been for a few months now.” Jeanine bides her time, watching the way her words crumbled any esteem the Abnegation had conjured for their meeting.

“Why have I never seen this?” Sarah utters, trying to keep herself together and absorb, yet again, another undisclosed piece of information.

“Sarah,” Jeanine says her name pointedly, the authoritative tone bouncing off the four walls and trying to direct the way the emotional wreck in front of her was already headed. “I’m sure you are well aware of Eric’s other heinous crimes. Of Eric’s abhorrent methods of managing the factions and disposing of anything that gets in his way.”

Crippled by her love for the man and the unconditional love for her child, Sarah clamps her eyes closed, leaning forward into her hands, openly weeping and uncaring for Jeanine’s presence. Through her tears, she mutters, “He’s moving my family away. I’m full term with his child and I had the image of him holding me under the water last night!”

“And I cannot emphasize enough how it distresses me to know a young mother like you has to go through such torment by a man who clearly has no respect for anybody or anything at all. But do you really think that it’s possible for him to change?”

Sarah’s hand grips at her chest, the other beginning to cradle her stomach. The hesitation was there and Jeanine knows exactly how to push her buttons. Her voice full of concern, she says, “...I don’t think so either. That’s why - and believe me when I say I wish there was another way - but you should be able to safely confide in me, to bring you and your child a better life. It will determine everybody’s safety in the end.”

Again, Jeanine reaches down to what Sarah assumed was now a bag or folder, and she pulls out more paper, shuffling them neatly. “Clair disclosed to me that you want to prevent all of this from further tainting your unborn child’s life. If that was perhaps not enough, for some reason, to help aid your decision, you can read here the damage Eric Coulter has done to your existing family already.”

“I-I,” Sarah sniffs, pushing back loose hair and tilting her head to get a view of the papers in Jeanine’s hand.

“It’s a matter of concern within Abnegation that your younger siblings may be victims of domestic violence. Your parents have been deemed inappropriate for legal guardians and a report is being initiated to have them removed from their care.” Jeanine holds a hand up when Sarah’s mouth opens to retort and smiles tightly, “I can take care of this.”

“What do you want from me?” Sarah says, her voice weak. It was all it ever came down to, people wanting more.

“It’s very simple. And it works in everybody’s favor. I want you to sign a statement to a proclamation.”

“A proclamation?”

“You are the only person that has ever been this close to Eric. Your decree would be final.”

Sarah begins to shake her head. “No, I don’t want to hurt him. I don’t know anything anyway and I won’t betray him like that. I can’t-”

“So you know nothing about his involvement with the mysterious death of Max?” Sarah looks to the side, unable to say anything and Jeanine’s smile widens. “I assure you nothing is going to happen to Eric. I promise you. In fact, he won’t even know,” she emphasizes, raising an eyebrow when Sarah slowly looks her in the eye, her face forming into a frown.

“You see, Eric has been so helpful in our hunt for Divergents. His clearing of the factionless was truly something spectacular that I really don’t believe anyone else would have been capable of. That’s why I don’t want Eric to be unjustly removed or disposed from his position. And honestly,” she takes a moment to smile at the younger woman, “I don’t think you would even agree with that form of consequence anyway.”

“What are you saying? I-I don’t understand.”

“You want a new life. You want Eric to be unharmed. Then you make sure you agree today.” Jeanine keeps her sight firm, unwavering as she pulls out a form and places it in front of Sarah. “I simply want you to sign these papers, then inject him with this.” Jeanine must’ve picked up the small pen-like device without her seeing earlier. She rolls it across the desk and Sarah stops it with the palm of her hand, staring down at it. “It will put Eric under simulation.”

Sarah jostles the device between her fingers. A vial of liquid sat near the end, a bubble slowly gliding throughout when she tilted it to the side.

“Be careful with that,” Jeanine tries lightheartedly, only earning her a glare.

Sarah shakes her head and places the pen down. “No. I won’t allow you to make him into some… mindless drone.”

“The simulation only covers memories relating to a subject of concern. For instance, anything to do with you. All other motor function is completely natural.”

“How is that even possible?” Sarah frowns at the vague explanation.

Jeanine ignores her, pressing further. “Those memories are melded, created into artificial sequences for him to recall instead. It won’t allow him to seek further into his memory, nor recognize specific details. It’s tested and evaluated on the most reputable Divergents that have been presented within Erudite.”

“What if it doesn’t work and he remembers? He would kill me. He could take my baby away!” Sarah speaks frantically. “...Is that why you want me to sign the papers?”

“It will work,” Jeanine says with finality, pursing her lips. “I have been working on this project myself. The proclamation is bargaining. Nothing more, nothing less. I told you all other motor function is his own and that is the only reasoning behind it.”

Sarah fiddles with the sleeves of her cardigan, still not fully convinced by Jeanine’s plan. “But there are people who know I’m carrying Eric’s child. They know who I am.”

“Like who? Wayne?” Jeanine scoffs, “Wayne who wants an opportunity to be classed as highly as Eric? ...Granted.” She carelessly waves a hand. “Clair? She is a friend, merely helping you. Your parents and associates certainly wouldn’t be any worry under threat of public humiliation or concern for your safety. Any stragglers will be monitored.” ��

Sarah mutters, looking down at the simulation device, “He... won’t remember me?” The reality finally sinking in at the aspect of what she was contemplating on doing.

“No. There is no loss for him. He won’t feel or remember anything.” Jeanine sighs tightly, catching Sarah dead in the eyes. “The question is, are you selfless enough to do this?”

Sarah breaks the intense stare and looks around the room wildly. “I can’t - I can’t make this decision.” She begins standing, adjusting her gray cardigan and wiping at her face. “It’s not right. This is games. Games I don’t want any involvement in.”

“It’s too late for that. So, that is your answer? No?” Jeanine stands as Sarah makes a break for the door. She rounds the desk quickly, her heels clattering with each step and she’s easily able to get in front of the heavily pregnant girl. “Think very carefully before you walk out of this door. There are two, now three…” Jeanine emphasizes as she looks down at Sarah’s stomach, “young lives who are going to have a massive impact from your simple fear of change.”

“You would stop my brother and sister from being separated?”

“I’ll do one better…” Jeanine gently pulls at Sarah’s wrist, turning her hand over and placing the simulation device in her hand. “...I will mark you down as their official legal guardian if you do this.”

Sarah’s face crumples up in agitation. “Why bother? Why bother with me? Why not have me put into simulation like Eric?”

“Because, I see in your eyes the one thing that nobody has ever given you before, a choice… A chance to make things right. For multiple lives.” Then, strangely, Jeanine touches Sarah’s stomach. In shock, Sarah lets her have the small moment, watching her face cautiously and the way her skin had almost aged translucently, perhaps an effect from the beaming bright, white lights she imagined Erudite to have. Grinning tightly, Jeanine whips her hand back and motions her towards the desk. “Make the right choice. For the sake of others.”

Tears fall as Sarah approaches slowly, reaching for the pen as Jeanine points to a small dotted line. “How-how do I know you will keep your word?”

“It’s the same as me asking: how would I know if you were to tell Eric the moment you left…” She lets the words linger for a moment until she continues, “I guess we both don’t know, but we have managed to get thus far. I have every confidence in you.

“Please…” she begs in a quiet voice, “just don’t hurt him…” And then she signs her name, Sarah Bennett.

 Eric is still not home when Sarah begins readying herself for bed. Robotically she brushes her teeth, staring at herself in the mirror, her chubbier than normal face and widened hips beneath her delicate nightdress. It becomes so overbearing that the silence begins to form into an almost buzzing white-noise as she stares at a person she doesn’t recognize in the reflection.

Her paused hand holding the toothbrush against her teeth begins to shake till she allows it to drop carelessly into the sink, bringing her palm to cover her mouth.

She screams.

Panting out the last part of her frustration, it becomes strangled by an unexpected tightening in her abdomen, cramping far down into her thighs. It hurts so much that she has to bend her knees and curl into herself. “Oh no.”

When the pain subsides, she straightens herself, knocking the toothbrush holder off the side along with a bottle of deodorant Eric had left as she skims across the tiled counter the basin is sunk into. Down the hall she wobbles into the living space, heading for her bag in the entranceway by the door. She scours the bag with adrenaline, causing her to almost become frantic. But oddly, she thinks back to the last time she bustled through her bag, finding the simulation device and hiding it under the mattress on her side of the bed.

It’s only a momentary pause in memory but it aids her in finding the phone, the gadget obviously staring at her in the face. Dialing Eric’s number, it rings endlessly.

“Please…” She tries to calm herself, but it was mainly the thought of being alone which scared her the most. “Baby, please not now.”

She decides on thinking practically, counting the minutes between the next. Slowly, time ticked by, and with anticipation, she waited. Hitting fifteen minutes, she began to feel it again, evolving this time from her back, circulating to her front where her stomach tightened and she grips the counter.

A few seconds in that seemed like an eternity, she hears his voice, obviously too caught up in the pain to notice him enter the apartment.

“Sweetheart…” His large hand slides up her back, soothing till the contraction finally passes. At the time she couldn’t register him, falling into her own pitiful concentrated pain. “I’ll call the doctor.”

No more than twenty minutes later, the doctor confirms she is in labor. Its progression is to be monitored, and if the contractions were to get any worse or closer together they had to call or head to the infirmary. The best they could do for the time being was to wait in the comfort of their home. Much to Eric’s reluctance.

It just makes everything worse. Exhausted, Sarah’s lips quiver as Eric enters the room with a glass of water for her. He’s cautious as he sits on the bed, dipping the mattress next to her and leans forward, rubbing his hands through his hair.

“You should rest,” she manages to say huskily, her throat sore from the exertions of the day.

“How can I sleep when you’re like that?” He scoffs to himself. “I don’t check my phone for five minutes…” he trails off, standing and pulling off his jacket. The rest of his clothes he strips off easily, throwing them over a chair together in case he needs to redress quickly and sits down next to her, his back facing her again.

“Where were you?”

He turns his head and his eyes lower to her propped form in bed. “I had to go to Amity.”

“You said-”

“I know. I’ve been to Candor. I had arrangements to make at Amity also.”

Sarah nods disdainfully, “You’re still going ahead with this?”

“It’s not something you should be thinking about right now. There are more important things at stake.”

And didn’t she know it. On his words her stomach begins to tighten again, cramping painfully low. “That’s...longer than fifteen minutes. They’re irregular.”

“Stop talking and breathe.” Eric pushes back her hair, watching as Sarah exhales through her mouth. “You’re fine. You’re safe,” he comforts her groaning and fidgeting form until she eventually rests back, exhausted. “Get some sleep. It may be the only chance you’ll get.”

 Sarah doesn’t wake with purpose, or pain from her contractions, or anything else that disturbs her. She wakes from the impending knowledge of her next actions, what she briefly planned to do earlier playing restlessly on her mind.

Eric lies on his back breathing deeply, his right hand balled into a fist, gripping the bed sheets to his stomach. She gathers his sleep will be fitful considering what was beginning to happen and the long day he’d already had. But whether she liked it or not, her requested duty was now timed. She knew that if the baby was to be born now, she would’ve ultimately made her decision to stay. It would mean watching Eric move Abnegation and her family away. Possibly seeing the beginning of a multiple faction breakdown, or worse: anarchy.

Her brother and sister would be fostered to another family and she would be restricted to motherly duties surrounded by concrete, waiting for Eric to maybe change his ways that he was so adamant that he wouldn’t. Something he had managed to keep proving to her time and time again.

She just didn’t want to put up with the uncertainty anymore. And she had now learned that shouldn’t and didn’t have to.

Sarah didn’t want to have to deal with the aftermath of her selfish actions so she could be with Eric in their unusual relationship while everyone else around her suffered. She had been brought up within a faction that prided themselves in selflessness. She was a full member of that faction. It was about time she started to act like it.

This should be easy. She should be able to cut-off from her own wants and needs. She should be able to become the true inspiration behind her faction. Charitable, liberal, magnanimous, self-sacrificing and self-denying.

Then why was everything so goddamn hard?

It wasn’t entirely correct with the saying ‘faction before blood’. She couldn’t agree with it anymore. They had their chance to choose their faction, they couldn’t choose their family. So for some it was easier than others to have more loyalty to factions, making the quote easier to abide by.

Sarah now sees it as ‘faction before love.’ From what she had experienced, everyone, including her parents, disregarded their love for each other to suit their factions. Eric had blindsided himself away from emotional attachments, preferring a cold demeanor and a hardened personality that was formidable and erratic. Nobody was honest or open. They all schemed and planned behind each other's backs.

And it makes her think, that perhaps Amity may have got it right. Perhaps that’s why they are pushed so far away from the other factions to live on the outskirts. They seemed to appease the things that everyone else was so commonly, but discretionarily scared of: Love. Peace. Harmony.

It is clear to her now, that is all she ever wanted. And not from the moment she stepped into Eric’s office had she ever had it.

Sarah rolls onto her back away from her previous position of facing Eric. Her hand drifts down past the side of the bed, pushing between the mattress till her fingertips touch the device hidden away beneath it.

She stares up at the ceiling, clasping the device tightly as her breathing begins to quicken. She waits for any acknowledgment that Eric was aware of her movements, and when he doesn't move, she shifts closer to him, the sheets crunching and sounding terribly louder than what they should.

With her fingertips she caresses the maze of tattoos on his arm, memorizing them, gliding her hands up through the small dusting of hair on his chest, feeling every indentation, every strength of the man lying next to her till she reaches his neck.

The first tear falls from her eyes and she leans down, kissing his bare shoulder, “I keep holding on to the hope that one-day things may be different, but they never are,” she whispers, the words not loud enough even for herself to hear. “One thing that will never change, is that I love you, and I always will.”

“I love you, too,” Eric mumbles, opening his eyes, only hooded for a second till they widen at the sharp sting throbbing in his neck. He sits up immediately and Sarah whimpers, backing away from him. Cupping his hand to his neck, he pulls it back to look at his palm, then at the device empty in her hand. “What have you done?”

“I’m- I’m sorry…” she squeaks. He grabs her wrist dragging her to him and she yelps, “I’m sorry!”

“What is this?” He yanks the stim from her hand, staring down at it then flicking his eyes to meet hers that drip tear after tear, the guilt written completely on her face. His world begins to tilt, the rushing lightness of his head raiding his mind and warping his sight. Shaking his head, he just about notices Sarah reaching for his shoulders as he pulls his unsteady and heavy legs from the bed.

“Eric, stop! I did this for the best, you have to believe me!” she exclaims, scrabbling to keep up with him as he tries to stand.

“Get the fuck away from me!” he growls but she pulls on his elbow, pulling him to sit down again. Anger swirls and he throws his arm back, hearing her cry out but she doesn’t let go. He takes a few unsteady steps and Sarah is dragged from the bed along with him, landing in a pile of sheets with a thump. It’s only then, as he falls to one knee, he has enough sense to turn back.

The shakes begin violently, the perspiration begins to clam up his body. But the disregard for his well-being leaves him when he spots Sarah sitting on the floor with a hand between her legs, her nightdress saturated around her and a fresh split in her lip. “Sarah, call-” Breathing is hard and he has the weirdest sensation of suffocation. She manages to shuffle to him as he collapses, her bright blue eyes glinting down upon him and she holds his hand. Sarah is saying something, but he can’t hear her anymore, slowly slipping into a bleak darkness.

“I’m sorry,” she repeats endlessly till his breathing is even and his features relax. Eric looks like he is peacefully sleeping.

A contraction begins, stronger this time and she hisses through her teeth, gripping his arm painfully tight. But it only causes her to take action.

The baby is coming, and he has no consideration for anything that is happening around him.

She crawls out to the hallway, managing to get to her feet and find her phone back on the counter where she left it. Jeanine’s phone number was the last thing they had discussed as she left Eric’s office earlier. She was told that everything would be taken care of the moment she called her. That there would be people at hand to help.

Jeanine answers almost immediately.

“It’s done.” Sarah pants. “But the baby’s coming!”

“There will be someone with you shortly,” she says, her voice cool and devoid of any emotion. “Be ready.”

Being ready was impossible. The contractions came quicker and stronger each time that Sarah barely had enough time to take another step. She crumples to the floor. Any advice she’d read or researched was useless. She was losing herself.

The door beeps and she doesn’t bother looking up. It opens letting in a draft of cold air and someone cautiously steps inside. “It’s okay,” they say, and she recognizes the voice instantly. “I’m here to help you.” Four touches her shoulder. “Is there anything you want to take with you?”

“My jacket.” Sarah wipes at her eyes. “My bag.” Her eyes travel back to Eric’s unconscious form obscured by the bedroom door. But her view is blocked by Four who has her jacket and bag in one hand, offering his other to help her up.

 Four takes her down a passage that ran underneath Dauntless. The same passage she had been to with Eric when they had a blackout all those months ago.

The walk was tiresome. They had to stop every few minutes until Sarah was able to walk again. Four said they were running out of time and decided to carry her for the remainder while he constantly excused himself from being so impersonal.

He explained that due to the suspicion, everything had to be done low-key and away from the public. That walking out the front doors without being resolutely questioned would’ve been impossible.

By tomorrow, Eric would be awake and back at work without any idea that anything happened. All remnants of her presence were being disposed of. She didn’t exist to him anymore.

As her eyes close with the sway of his body, it feels like seconds till Four leans forward, opening a heavy iron door. She startles from the movement to find Mary hooded in a long jacket waiting patiently in the doorway.

“Mary?” Sarah says in surprise as Four puts her back down to the floor. They hug briefly till the pain begins fast and strong. “We have to hurry. Four-”

But he shakes his head. And she breathes out the remnants of the latest contraction. “I have to stay here.” He turns to Mary. “Go to Erudite, not Abnegation. It’s safer to have the baby there till everything settles down.”

Sarah crushes Mary’s hand. “I don't think...you have noticed...but I’m not going to make it.”

“You can. Erudite is not far.”

Sarah begins whimpering. “I can’t do this. I can’t-”

“You can! And you will.” Four passes Sarah’s bag to Mary. “You will because your family is relying on you.” He checks over his shoulder and then steps outside, scanning the area. “Go. I’ve disabled the cameras and the lock on that gate,” he points to one in the distance. “I need to rearm it. If anybody notices there will be a security launch, and guess who they will be asking for…”

“Come on,” Mary pulls on Sarah’s arm. “We’ll go slow.”

“Thank you, Four,” Sarah says, her voice heavy with emotion, “Please, watch over him.”

“I’ll do what I can,” he smiles tightly in return and then the heavy metal door slams closed behind them. And in her crouched and stumbling walk with Mary clinging onto her, she takes one last look back at Dauntless.

 For a long time, it's just their breathing echoing into the abandoned streets. There is barely any light, just the moon guiding them. Sarah’s grip is firm on Mary’s arm, every step agony and she tries to concentrate more on Mary’s jacket flapping behind her than the distance they have yet to walk.

A warm gush and the contractions suddenly change into an overwhelming urge, so strong that it causes Sarah’s legs to almost give way. “Mary, stop!” Her voice turns strangled and this time she yells out into the darkness, “Stop! Something's different!” She gathers up her nightdress, placing a hand between her legs and whimpers by what she finds. “We have to stop,” her voice breathless. Another squeeze rippling from the top of her stomach down has her scream.

“The baby!” she pants, “he’s coming now.”

“What?” Mary’s eyes are wide. “Right now?”

“God damn it, Mary! Right now! He’s coming now,” Sarah whimpers, clinging onto Mary’s arm.

“Don’t shout at me!” Mary whines and wildly looking around, she pales instantly. “You can’t have it here! There is no doctor!”

Sarah grips the front of Mary’s jacket, pulling her forward. “I’m having this baby now! Doctor or no doctor!”

Around them are abandoned buildings crippled by weather and time. She spots one not as crumbled as the rest and points. “In there!”

They step over brick and debris of a worn pathway, Mary pulling her along as she groans. Unexpectedly she yells out, falling into uncontrollable pain, suddenly unable to stop the urge to push anymore.

“My jacket…” Sarah tries to practice the breathing techniques she had read about. Mary helps her remove it, placing it on the dusty floor and Sarah lies down upon it. “Now, I want you to look-”

“Sarah, no. I’m not- I can’t- What if-” Mary’s face scrunches up and she holds up her hands.

“Get down there and get ready to bring your nephew into the world, Mary, or so help me god!”

“Oh...oh…” Mary grimaces, kneeling down and meekly pinching the material of Sarah’s dress between her fingers. She begins ducking her head when a stone tumbles over from the darkness and they both freeze.

The moonlight gracing them with a small beam through the windowless building is barely any help to see in the twilight. Mary stands up, trying to let her eyes adjust and Sarah lets her head roll back, breathing loudly, literally uncaring for anything happening around her anymore.

“Who’s there?” she calls and sees a small figure cling to what used to be a doorway. A few steps and she is looking down into the eyes of a young boy. Just as Mary manages to smile in an effort to prove they didn’t mean any harm, a woman yanks the small boy back.

“Ma,” he whines, “It’s just two Abnegation girls. I think one of them is sick.”

“Please…” Mary follows them around the corner as they try to vanish into the darkness. “We don’t want any trouble. She’s pregnant. She’s having a baby.”

But the woman is pulling the young boy through a hole connecting to the other houses, ignoring her.

“Ma!” the boy tries again, looking back at Mary.

She hears Sarah behind her, calling her name to make her come back.

“Please! You need to help us!” Mary begs, quickening her pace, sometimes tripping on the idle rubbish littered around them.

“We don’t need to do ‘nuffin!” The lady suddenly turns, getting into her face. “You’ve already seen us, that’s the damage already done!”

“We won’t tell anyone. I swear,” Mary cries desperately, begging the older woman to change her mind.

“Ma, we can’t leave them here!” The young boy tugs on his mother’s sleeve.

“JJ, I love ya, boy, but we’re not supposed to exist. Now these ladies have seen us.” She shakes her head erratically. “We don’t want trouble. That’s trouble.”

“Mary!” Sarah screams from the other room and the woman’s face becomes conflicted, her eyes trailing slightly over her shoulder and Mary places her hands together in prayer.

“Oh, lord! Dagnabit!” She lets the boy go and he runs past, back into the moonlit room with Sarah.

“It’s okay. We’re gonna help,” he tells her sweating and panting form, a wary puzzled expression gracing her face.

The woman doesn’t bother with courtesy and kneels between Sarah’s legs, lifting up her nightdress. “We’re just gonna check if we can see the baby’s…” She pauses as she looks down. “...okay, that is the baby’s head, for sure.”

“Hold my hand, Miss,” says the young boy. “I’m Jack, but me Ma calls me JJ.”

Sarah just nods, too frightened to object at his small hand grabbing hers.

“Next contraction, you’re gonna give it all you got. Stop resisting it.”

Mary paces in the background, biting her nails. An idea suddenly hitting her, she stops and takes off her own jacket. “Here, take this, wrap him in this.”

The next sweeping wave, Sarah pushes down, ultimately crushing the boy's hand in the process.

“Okay, good, next one same again,” the lady says calmly. Her face is set in concentration and Sarah cries, doing what she’s told. “That’s it! I see his face, hold on, let me turn him. Hold on!”

“Oh my god!” Mary exclaims, gazing down. All dignity leaves Sarah in an instant. She has a moment's lapse from the contractions and she gazes drunkenly at the boy next to her.

���Final push!”

Sarah doesn’t really hear her, gritting her teeth and tucking her chin to her chest. An extraordinary euphoric moment washes throughout her as she feels the child leave her womb. The pale pink flesh of the newborn is washed by the hue of the night, and Sarah falls back as the young boy shuffles his legs under her head.

“Hello Mama!” the factionless woman cries at the same time the howling music of the newborn echoes into the room. There are a few coughs and splutters and the woman cuts the umbilical cord with a small pocket knife she nimbly pulls from her jacket. She then wraps him quickly and passes him into Sarah’s waiting arms.

Cradling him, she gently brushes her little finger over his face, biting her lip from her sobbing and the weakness of her body.

“Whatcha going to call him?” The woman stands, brushing her hands off on her pants and Mary weeps behind her.

She looks at the boy briefly above her, “I’m going to call him Jack.” She bounces the baby a little trying to get him to stop mewling and smiles at him. “...Jack.”

The older woman braces her hands on her hips and gives a hearty nod. “Honored. Now let’s sort you out, that ding on your lip is pretty bad and we’ll get you where you were going, shall we? You need a doctor, and we know the quickest ways to get you there.”

“Thank you,” she says but her eyes never leave her baby’s face.

 The summer months are the best in Sarah’s opinion. She stares out the small window above the sink in the kitchen that looked out beyond the washing lines and a vast grassland that ran up to a lining of trees in the distance while ghosting a finger over the small scar on her bottom lip. For a minute, that all-knowing sensation runs up her spine when she thinks about him; just like always when she thinks of anything in her recent past.

Her parents only live a few houses down, their old home backing onto the same scene in front of her now. Though, she barely ever sees her parents, only in passing at the weekly market where she uses her points to purchase the week's shopping. She doubts they will ever speak again.

Thomas barges his way into the kitchen, running fast and straight up behind her, hugging her back. “Hey!” She turns, rubbing his head. “You ready for school?”

Mary is shortly behind, in her arms cradling Jack wrapped in a plain white blanket. She’s cooing to him as she walks, the smile large on her face.

This was Sarah’s family now. They’d managed to slip quickly into an ordinary life. One Sarah had always wanted. But her mental scars ran deep no matter how hard she tried to deny them. She would be tempted to say she even wore them in plain sight for everyone to see if they ever bothered to look close enough.

With the weather being decent, she only wears her gray dress, and Mary helps her swaddle the baby in a material holder to her chest. Her two younger siblings then scrabble for the last pieces for school. It doesn’t take long till they are peacefully and happily leaving the house, Sarah finally getting her chance to walk them to school which she made sure she did every day.

Thomas holds her hand and Mary walks in a contented silence next to her in the bustle of an Abnegation morning. People greet them politely, no one ever showing them any animosity or suspicion. Nobody really had enough information to doubt their way of living. Sure, there was still rumors over John’s drinking and alleged inability to look after them properly. It made more sense that Sarah gave away her duties at Dauntless to become their legal guardian, and the people around them accepted it wholeheartedly, like true Abnegations. 

“Trucks!” Thomas shouts as they make their way up the main gravel path towards the schools and other amenities. He pulls on Sarah’s arm, tugging her towards them. His obsession with trucks was still bountiful.

Sarah only looks at Mary for a fraction of a second, her sister’s face slightly grimacing. “It’s okay,” she comforts her. “If it hadn’t of worked, he would’ve already found us by now.”

Mary nods wordlessly and they mingle with the crowds of her people gathering to watch the spectacle. A lot of them being kids with their parents on the same journey to school. She’s reluctant when Thomas drags her to the front where he continues to jump up and down on the spot in excitement. She loses Mary, and through her jostling Jack begins to stir, especially when the voices of the crowd grow louder.

“Thomas,” she calls but he’s pointing at the trucks and the Dauntless beginning to descend from them. The crowd moves forward, and when a kid runs towards the Dauntless, Thomas is the second to follow. At least the Dauntless patrol humors them for a second, giving her time to hush Jack and sway him from side to side. “Please don’t be hungry…” she begs him as his tiny voice increases in volume. “Go back to sleep.”

Thomas gets close enough to touch the trucks and Sarah had seen enough. With Jack beginning to belt out his lungs, it was time for them to move on. She hurries forward, touching Thomas’ shoulder. “Come on, it’s time for school.”

“This is so cool!” he exclaims and smiles up at her, bounding off to someone descending from the cab before she can pull him away.

Sarah had been too lenient with her brother recently, he was becoming more forward and brave with every day that passed. He was beginning to act like the rest of the little boys that surrounded them. But it doesn’t help her plight to please a newborn, and Jack only seemed to howl louder.

She pats her baby’s bum through the material, trying to calm him, paying no mind to the happenings around her as she hums gentle comforts to him.

“Sarah!” Mary’s voice carries over the crowd. She turns her head, searching over her shoulder, frowning into the fog of people and bright light from the everbearing sun.

She makes a move to step forward without fully checking in front of her and freezes dead on the spot, not even breathing when coming face to face with a black jacket obscuring her view. Tilting her head up slowly, she already knows who this is just from the amount of times she would usually rest her head against him.

In fear, she doesn’t say anything, only Jack wailing between them when she looks into those gray eyes squinted at her, a look between curiosity and annoyance. His eyebrow adorning his piercings quirks up and he inspects the baby at her chest. She dares not move when he reaches out, circling the baby's face with his fingertip and his mouth grimaces for a fraction of a second, his touch becoming hesitant.

Sarah is unable to look away from his face, even when his eyes dart back to hers, still caught in a ghosting squint from the sun. “Cute kid you have there,” he mumbles, more to himself it seems.

She swallows dryly, willing herself to say something natural. It doesn’t help that she becomes more bewildered when Jack seems to whimper and quieten down when he speaks. “He...he,” she stammers, especially as Eric inspects the small scar gracing her lip, “...looks just like his father…”

Eric’s stare has never been so intense. Like he could read her, everything. He could see straight through her. Tears sting and she wills herself to keep it together.

“Sarah!” Thomas bangs into her leg, but she doesn’t look away. Too afraid to. Too wanton to see his face. All those nights she sat staring into her baby’s eyes that resembled his. “There’s three trucks. I saw Ted from school, he tried to open one of the doors…” Thomas trails off, smiling up at Eric in recognition. When neither of them moves, Thomas frowns, pulling Sarah away, finally remembering what he had been taught by his sisters.

The wind picks out pieces of the fine hairs near her face as she turns, her eyes lingering on him for a fleeting moment as he watches the fake smile on her face fade.

He continues to watch her walk away without looking back again. Something at the back of his mind whispered through the chaos. Something ghostly among all coherent thought. A voice in his head that made no sense at all.

“Sarah?”

A/N: I’m so emotional and been so hesitant to finally post this. A BIG thanks to all who took the time to help, who have followed and read the story throughout and graced me with so many good comments. You know who you are!

So long, Bound By Chains, it’s been great! I...think... I may cry... Thank you all.