Transparent: A Divergent FanFiction (Book One) ©

Prologue

                Sage's brow furrows, and his lower lips pokes out in defiance, making him look more mature than I'd like to see. He manages to sit up and brace his sneakers against an opposing bar, and suddenly, I know what he'll do. He's not thinking of what'll happen to him, he's thinking only of his friend.

                Giving a final yank, he manages to pull Danny back up and onto the top of the dome; the expense being his own balance. I watch in horror as the sudden shift in weight sends Sage flying back and down onto the ground. He lands with a dull thump onto the sand, and I immediately stand, running forward as if it's a life or death emergency.

                "Sage, baby, are you okay?" I demand when I reach him, though from the sound of his laughter I can tell he's fine.

                "Mommy, mommy, did you see me?" He chortles, sitting up and shaking the sand out of his hair and off his pants. "I was up so high!"

                "But you fell," I hear Mara point out from behind me. She must've been worried as well; though they bicker, I know she's just as protective of him as I am. "That was stupid; you should've let Danny fall." Mara continues.

                "Mommy Mara called me stupid!" Sage complains, though I can see he's not bothered. Already, he seems rearing to go and climb back up to the top with Danny.

                "I'm only being honest," Mara retorts, flicking her hair behind her and walking back to her jump-rope friends.

                I begin to worry at the thought of Sage climbing back up, and possibly falling again, but luckily Sorrel comes to intervene.

                "Hey kids, how about we spare mom's nerves a little and just stay down here?" he offers.

                Sage snickers but nods in agreement, and when Danny climbs back down, I see why they didn't put up much of a fight. As I sit back down onto the grass, and listen to the high pitched squeals of laughter, a game of tag breaks out.

                I can't help it; I smile like an idiot at the sight of them romping around the playground. It never ceases to amaze me, seeing Sorrel run around after the kids; I marvel at his capacity for play, his patience is extraordinary, and his gleeful buoyancy is infectious. Sage takes after him in this and many other ways.

                As the sun continues to rise, I see the boys eventually slow from exhaustion; it's time for their naps. Danny is so tired that Sorrel ends up carrying him all the way to the apartment. When I ask Sage if he'd like to be carried, he gives a resolute no, instead saying that Mara should take his place; though I can clearly see he's drowsy and he keeps yawning every so often.

                Once we're home, Sorrel gently lays a sleeping Danny onto Sage's bed. His father, Norman Gallows, is rarely home. Though he has often told us he could hire a sitter, we always insist otherwise; the boys have always been close to each other, and it sends a wave of outrage through me to think of Danny being alone with a stranger.

              Mara complains that she's too old for a nap, but when I go to check on her a few minutes later, she is sound asleep. Sorrel and Sage are both curled up on the couch, and I can see from his shallow breathes, that Sage is already deeply asleep. I sit across from them, watching in quiet awe; they're so alike, it's uncanny.

                I watch as Sorrel tenderly brushes Sage's hair to the side, his face full of fatherly-adoration, and can feel my heart swell; overcome with emotion. It all seems so perfect, but as each day passes, I can feel my worries grow.

              As if reading my mind, Sorrel gazes up at me, his brow furrowed; betraying his anxiety.

               We know, even at such a young age, that Sage is different; and different right now, means dangerous. I gaze at my husband, willing myself to stay as calm as he seems, but I can never seem to reach his same state of tranquility.

               Even though I hope and pray, I know that the future of my little boy will be a hard and treacherous one. He'll have many challenges ahead of him, challenges I won't be able to protect him from.

               He is too honest, too brave, too selfless; he is–

               No, but I can't say that word, I won't say it, I refuse.

               I can only continue to have faith that when the time comes, he'll be able to survive. I look at them, father and son, and I try to cling to the glimmer of hope I see. Because maybe, even if he is what I suspect he is, he will have the wisdom to be able to navigate the waters of uncertainly and find the truth.

               I look at Sorrel, and he looks at me; it's unavoidable, we won't be able to protect him forever.

              "Everything will be fine," Sorrel vows quietly. "I promise, everything will be fine..."