Four is waiting for you in the dormitory, arms crossed, glaring at the blanket on the edge of your bed.
"Four," you say, glancing towards the door. "I saw you up there with Tris. What happened?"
He nods, sitting down on the bed across from yours. "You weren't awake."
"You were?' you ask, horrified. "You were one of-"
"No," Four says, shaking his head. "I'm Divergent. The serums don't work on me."
"Oh," you say, sitting down on your bed and picking at the edge of the blanket. You suck in a breath, closing your eyes, remembering the simulation. "There was so much blood," you whisper. "Because of me."
Four jumps up. "No," he says instinctively, then walks over to crouch next to you. "Not because of you. You were being used."
"I'm not Divergent," you say, staring numbly down at the floor.
Four sighs, shaking his head. "I don't need a Divergent," he says.
You look up. "Don't you have a faction to fix?"
"I don't need a faction," he repeats simply, and your eyes meet his, staring up at you, pools of liquid brown.
"So why are you here, then?" you say, standing up. "Why aren't you coordinating things or with Tris or-"
He stands up to meet you, taking your palms in his. "I'm here because I want you with me," he says, swallowing, moving his strong hand over yours. "I'm here because I can't do this alone. Are you with me? Will you help me fix Dauntless?"
You're too stunned to say anything.
"I have the manifestos-" he starts to offer, and you break into a laugh, giggling and looking down at your hands.
"Of course," you say, face breaking into a huge grin. "Of course I will, Four."
He laughs unbelievingly, then starts to smile at you. "You mean it?"
"I do," you say, "I do."
And you do. The next few months are hectic, full of scheduling and apologies and fixing the broken city. You and Four spend nights poring over the manifestos and trying to rework Dauntless into its original form, the way it should be, and days dealing with war criminals and trying to heal the Dauntless. It's not easy, but with help from friends, eventually things swing back into their regular rhythm.
You're appointed a leader along with Tris and Four, and the three of you rule well and justly, never missing the weekend Capture the Flag or any ziplining event.
Being with Four feels as natural as breathing. The two of you are together so often that you can barely remember what it felt like before, because he's your lifeblood, and you know you're his, too, because he tells you every day.
It takes a year or so of comfortable conversations, ruling the faction with kind hands, and doing everything together, but one day, Four blushingly stumbles through some terrible poetry he wrote and asks you to be his bride.
And you say yes, of course.
It's different from what you expected that night at the dance, but it's perfect. All of it.
Advance to 144.