Familiar

I stand there, unable to move.

David.

"Don't move or I will fire." he splutters. I am about to inform him that I can't move even if I want to, but I am afraid that will only make me believe it myself. I can move. I am brave.

"You wouldn't dare," I start, but he interrupts.

"Oh I would. You think you know me Tris?" he asks. He fumbles with a weapon that is too masculine for him. A weapon that looks very familiar. A weapon that has a Dauntless character to it. He holds it perpendicular to my chest.

"If you shoot me, you are a coward. If you don't shoot me, you are still a coward. You let a great deal of people die when you had the power to prevent it. You spoon fed us lies about who we were. All of this 'trying to create pure genes again' is just ridiculous. If anyone deserves to die, it's you." I squeeze the last sentence out, thinking of my mother and my brother, without breaking down.

"I am not a coward!" he yells, his words become hoarse. "You will not change my mind. Surrender now, or be shot!" he jolts the gun to create a gesture. The gun. There is something not quite right about it, and it attracts my attention.

It isn't real.

I don't know why I didn't notice it in the first place. It's a paintball gun, the kind the Dauntless use to play 'Capture the Flag' and the same one I used to help blast out all of the Erudite cameras in the Dauntless compound. Or should I say the Bureau's cameras. I scan the counter behind David, looking for the device that will release the memory serum virus: a black box with a silver keypad, marked with a strip of blue tape that has a model number written on it. It is opposite to me, just to the left of David. Choking back a devious grin, I drop to my knees in and raise my arms above my head in surrender. I check behind me to see what's going on: the death serum aerosol hasn't dissipated yet, so the guards are still outside in the corridor. David lowers his weapon, assuming I really am giving up and before his next sentence leaves his tongue – probably to say I will be imprisoned for life – I take action.

I spring off my toes into a commando roll past David. As he fumbles for the trigger I kick him in the side, which sends him directly to the floor. I punch in the first three numbers of the code: 0, 8, 0. I glance at the reflection of David on the aluminium band that stretches from one end of the counter to the other. David is on his feet, raising his gun. He really thinks he knows what he's doing and it relaxes me knowing that he doesn't. He is hesitating about pulling the trigger, which gives me plenty of time to type the last three numbers: 7, 1 and 2. I smack down the green button with relief and a hissing noise fills the room. I whip around as David screams "What have you done?" and it is anger that fuels him this time to pull the trigger. I tense my stomach muscles and brace every part of my body for impact. His shot lands on the right side of my rib cage and grey paint splatters my black top.

Abnegation grey.

His body goes limp and flops onto the tile, a short lasting side effect of the memory serum. As I walk past his body out of the room, not bothering to check if the death serum aerosol dissipated, I whisper "Be brave, David."

My shoes squeak on the tile as I make my way to the main room of the Bureau. Tobias is there, his eyes are glassy and he is talking to Cara.

"Tobias!" I yell. All of a sudden my body feels heavy and as if it being held upside down from all the recent adrenaline. At the sight of me, Tobias's mouth drops open and he glares at Cara. She takes a few wobbly steps backward. "What's wrong?" I say, clearly stating something's up. Tobias doesn't say anything, he just strides toward me and wraps his arms so tightly around me that pain pinches the area where my paintball wound is, even though my arm covers it. His shoulders shake. He's crying. I raise my eyebrows at Cara, who, once catching my expression, slowly turns and runs outside. I repeat my question to Tobias.

"She said," he takes a deep breath. "That you were shot after you put the code in to release the memory serum," he chokes on every single word. "And she couldn't bear to watch it happen so she just ran, to wherever fate took her, until of course she bumped into me." He releases his grip on me, and stands back, holding my hands. Tears streak his face and all I can see is a small boy, lost, with no one he can trust, no one to care for him, no one to love him. I decide encouraging words won't help the situation, so all I do is pull him back to hug him tight and whisper two reassuring words.

"It's okay,"

"It's okay."