Con-ver-gent, adjective: Coming closer together.
They say that something as simple as a flutter of a butterfly's wings can change the course of history. What if Tris never took over Caleb's mission? What if the mission failed? What if Caleb was the one to die? An alternative (extended) ending to Allegiant, obviously with some spoilers.


10. Chapter 10


I stroke her burning forehead and her eyes flicker open, but I know she can barely see me through her feverish haze. No, Tris. My beautiful Tris. I touch her side, and my hand comes away marked with blood. It stands out with stark contrast against the white paint as I wipe it first on the wall, and then on my trousers. Her shallow breaths tickle my chin as I lean in close to her, her name tickling my lips as I gently exhale.


She squints, her eyes unable to focus on my face. "No, Tobias. You have to go. Marcus… Evelyn…"

"Shh, shh." I whisper, leaning still closer to her and planting a soft kiss on her flaming skin. "It's okay, it's okay. I'm here, I'm really here."

"It's not okay. You have to go." She insists, pushing at my chest with her hand. The force behind it is barely there, and I know we don't have the time to argue like this.

"Please. You have to get up."

"I can't." She whispers, and her voice sounds like it's been drawn past a throat of sandpaper. Her lips are dry and cracked; her hair damp with sweat.

She whimpers as I tuck my arms under her body, and her clammy hands find my neck as I lift her into the air. In an effort to keep them there, she winds her fingers together, but then they must begin to ache and she takes them down, curling them into her body. "Christina." She whispers, delirious.

I step into the corridor, ready to run, but her eyes snap open and soon she's staring at me, completely away. "Christina."

"She's here?"

"Next door."

I swing around, clutching Tris tight to my chest as I kick out, my foot slamming into the white wood. It splinters under the force and swings inwards, but the plain room is dark and empty. "There's nobody here, Tris." Her head lolls back against my arm and I shake her gently, but she refuses to stir.

Quickly, I think, swinging around in the empty room and stepping into the corridor. The white lights overhead cast harsh shadows on the walls as I step past my door and turn the corner into the main hallway. My eyes are focussed on Tris' face, so I don't see the shadow on the floor until it's too late. She stands at the elevator, her hands on her hips. A gun twirls in her fingers, a menacing grin on her lips.

"Tobias. Leaving so soon?" She cocks the gun and points it in my direction. No. It can't end here.

Tris gasps for breath in my aching arms, her hands trembling on top of her chest. "It's okay. It's okay." I murmur softly close to her face, rubbing her shoulder softly. She lets out a small yelp of pain as I shift my hold on her, pulling her closer to my body. I can't let her die.

A tear manifests itself in the corner of my eye and I try and blink it away, but it runs down my cheek in a desperate race for freedom as I look up to face her.

"Oh dear. First your friend; and now your girlfriend too. You can't seem to keep people alive for very long, can you?" She takes a step forwards, prowling down the corridor with her fingernails flashing like talons. "Whatever shall we do?"

I steel my gaze against her as I find her unforgiving stare, wiping the fallen tear on my shoulder as I find the only solution in my immediate grasp. There's no time to take her across the city, to find a car and get back to the Bureau. Her forehead beads with sweat, her chest rising and falling in sharp breaths. She has hours left at most, the evidence of infection like a luminous clock counting down the remainder of her time. "Help me." I croak, another tear following the track of the other down my skin. It drips onto Tris' face, splashing onto her burning red cheek.

"What's in it for me?" Evelyn smiles, taking the final step towards me. She presses the gun playfully to Tris' forehead, imitating the blast of the bullet. "It'd be so easy, to end all this. To take out our little trouble maker and take over the world with no repercussions or interruptions…"

"I'll…" I shake my head, the dead weight of Tris' body weighing down my arms. I fall to my knees, cradling her in my lap as my knees hit the floor. "I'll do whatever you say. Save her, and I'll do anything you want."

She smiles now, the twinkle in her eyes only telling me that she's won. "Anything?"

I nod, stroking Tris' burning cheek. My shirt is damp at the front with her blood, my whole body trembling as I sign my life away. "Anything."


She lies limp on the low bed, installed by Marcus in the same cell I just helped her escape. The blood-stained handprints still mark the wall, but the previously empty room now seems crowded with furniture. A fold-out cot is pushed against the wall, an antibiotic drip dangling from a long metal pole on wheels pushed into the corner. Her chest rises and falls softly, her pale features only highlighted by her rosy red cheeks.

Evelyn leans against the doorframe, her arms crossed over her chest. She smiles as she twists the gun around her fingers, and then tucks it into the belt of her skirt. "Now, your first errand…"

"No." I say, turning my head away from her to focus on Tris' sleeping form. Her hand is cold beneath my grasp, the skin around her eyes dark with exhaustion. "Not until she's better."

Evelyn sighs, sensing a lost battle. "Fine," she hisses, stalking into the corridor and leaning only her head into the room. "Have it your way."

The door shuts with a slam, the lock clicking closed with a silent finality. For now, I'm a prisoner. Of course, I'll always be a prisoner now. To her.

I stop thinking about myself, turning my attention only to Tris. Her eyelids flutter softly as images of dreams flicker beneath them, her tiny hand trembling slightly under my grip. "Hey you. I… I need you to get better, real soon." My voice is a whisper, barely audible above the silence. The wound- red and infected- springs to mind. She can fight it off. I know she can. "I've done something stupid, Tris. You'll be really angry when you find out, but you'll see. I just hope you understand. When you're all better I'll find a way out, but for now…" I close my eyes against the thought, exhaling deeply as I shift on my knees. "I won't be here all the time, okay? But I'll be here as much as I can. I'll make sure of it- and when you're better, I'll get you out of here, even if I can't come with you."

The photos crinkle as I pull them from my pocket, pressing them against the small pile of folded clothes on the floor. Caleb's smiling face looks up at me from the top of the pile, his tousled black hair frozen forever in the printed paper. "Tobias…" Tris murmurs from the bed, her eyes flickering open.

"Hey there, sleepyhead." I reply, stroking her forehead gently with the backs of my fingers.

"What did you do?" She croaks, her eyes struggling to focus on my face.

"Nothing, don't worry. Just sleep."

I expect her to argue, but she twitches her head in a quick nod and closes her eyes again. When I'm certain she's asleep, I push myself to my feet and turn back towards the door. It swings open as I reach it, Marcus's face appearing from behind the tiny peephole in the wooden surface. His skin is grey against the white wall behind him, his mouth set in a stern, straight line. "Come on then, son. We've got work to do."

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