Peter Hayes - Divergent #2

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A/N: In this one, I knew that Dauntless initiates don't get to watch other initiates' fear landscapes, but I kinda changed that to fit the story anyway. This one is probably the saddest oneshot I've written but it's also very sweet and fluffy. It doesn't have much of a plot or climax or whatever, but I thought it turned out pretty okay. It's about Peter Hayes so if nothing else, that's a plus. Enjoy!

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I thought I'd seen it all.

So far I had seen him humiliated. I had seen him dismissed for helplessness and weakness. I saw those who he had once betrayed return to haunt and torment him. I had seen him shamefully endure failure. I had seen him exiled to a life with the Factionless. I watched as he cast aside those who consoled him, later driven insane by complete and total isolation. I saw him suffocate and gasp for his life. I watched as he lost his temper, pushing away and damaging his own family. I watched as he looked into the mirror for all eternity, and no matter how long or which way he looked at himself, he still hated the man staring back at him, inside and out.

I would have thought this was all he feared, but I quickly found that I was wrong.

In his fear simulation, he struggled against his captors.

"Get your hands off me," he snarled, struggling against them.

I shook my head. No matter how hard he struggled it was impossible for him to avoid the situation; it was all in his head. This was his fear landscape - for the first time he was living all his greatest fears. The only way to escape was to either figure a way out or accept what was happening and move on.

I assumed this particular fear was something along the lines of being taken as a hostage or being forced against his will. It was when I saw my own face appear on screen that I realized I had been wrong.

Soon after they handcuffed him to a chair, I saw myself dragged onto the screen, kicking and crying and trying my best to wriggle out of my captor's hands.

My mouth was wadded with a bandana tied around my head. The only sound I could make were growls or high pitched screams; whatever noise I was making, however, it sounded just like me. If I were Peter I might actually believe it were happening right before my eyes. Luckily, I wasn't Peter right now, and if I were, I don't think I would have been strong enough to keep my sanity after what he was about to be put through.

One of Peter's captors grabbed a fistful of his hair, painfully jerking him still. As Peter gasped and winced, the man bent low to his face and gave him a wicked smile. Into his ear, he simply said one word: "Watch."

The camera showed Peter's face; his eyes widened and his face drained.

"No... Please..." His voice trembled - his whole face trembled and tears formed in his eyes. "Please, please no... Not this, anything but this. Please... please!" He begged as if his life depended on it. "Stop, just stop!" He begged and begged and begged some more, until tears flooded down his cheeks and his voice became hoarse. "Please don't, I'll do anything, I'll do anything I swear! Please stop, don't do this, I'm begging you, just-"

And that was when I first heard my own screams, then his. That was when I decided I couldn't watch any longer.

"Stop! STOP!" He shouted at our captors, almost drowned out over my screams of pain. "Stop now!" I kept on and on; I'm not sure if I even took a breath in between screams. "Stop now or I'll kill you! I'll kill you!"

I couldn't imagine in what ways they were torturing me in front of him. Frankly, by his reaction, I didn't even want to imagine.

He screamed the same thing, over and over, shouting so loud that I could hear him through the simulation walls. "I'll kill you! I'll kill you! I swear I'll kill you!" A string of curse words flew from his mouth as he spat at the men, killing me as slowly and as painfully as they could. He said everything he could think of to make my screaming stop, but it never seemed to be enough.

I closed my eyes and willed him to get himself together; it hurt me to hear all the emotional pain he was in.

Please, just get yourself out of that landscape. It's not real.

Our screams seemed to get louder and louder and more frequent. It was only after ten of the longest minutes of my life that Peter finally managed to make himself pass out from losing so much air, ending the simulation.

The room rang with the sudden silence. I watched the landscape door open as Four dragged out an unconscious Peter. Four deliberately made eye contact with me across the room where I was sitting on a bench, watching the initiates' fear tests. Immediately I whisked myself over to them and supported Peter by his waist, helping him to the bench. As I sat down with him, Four gave me a curt nod before marching back into the landscape for the next initiate.

It was hard to look at him, so pale and weak. The only color on his face was from the red around his eyes and his splotchy tear-stained cheeks.

My eyebrows furrowed and my lip trembled a little - not quite enough to make me cry, but just enough to make me shiver and shake. I reached up and combed a hand through his hair.

"Peter? Are you in there?" I asked quietly, twirling my fingers around his wavy curls and little cowlicks. I noticed his eyes and mouth twitch, almost like he were trying to reply. "I'm right here, I'm okay," I whispered to him, leaving his hair and gently gripping his shoulder to keep him steady. I placed my other hand on his cheek, holding his head so I could meet his gaze.

I watched as the corners of his mouth twitched as he let out a quiet hum. Finally, his eyes opened, revealing their beautiful hazel color that I knew so well.

"There he is," I said with a small smile, barely loud enough for him to hear. I looked closer and I could now see the brokenness in his eyes, making my heart sink.

"Y/N..." he muttered hoarsely, searching my eyes as if seeing them for the last time. I watched as his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes began to water.

With a sad smile, I shook my head and pulled him into a hug, wrapping my arms around his waist and tugging him as close to me as I could.

"Don't think about it, it wasn't real," I whispered into his shoulder soothingly, drawing circles on his back. I felt him bury his face into my neck and pull me even closer. I felt his shoulders tremble, trying to hold himself together.

"I'm right here," I say to him, pressing a kiss to his collarbone. "I'm not going anywhere, I promise."

I felt his hands grasp a fistful of my shirt; his shoulders shook as he tried to hold in a sob. "There was so much blood," he forced out, his voice shaking. "You screamed so loud, and y-you... you were hurting so much..."

His trembling worsened and his tears started to fall onto my skin. "I... I couldn't do anything," he croaked out, just before a sob made him gasp.

Carefully and gently, I unraveled my hands from his waist so I could take his head in my hands, brushing tears away from his cheeks with my thumb.

My eyes watered as I took in his appearance; the way his eyes seemed so cold and dark and broken made my heart ache. There was nothing I could do to take away what he had seen, and he wouldn't be forgetting it anytime soon.

I tilted up my head and pressed a kiss to his nose, to his cheeks, and finally his lips, brushing away the tears that continued to fall.

"It's okay, I'm here, I'm here," I told him, over and over again. I took one of his hands in mine and placed it over my heart. "Feel that? I'm right here."

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