Chapter Text
"Did you eat something yet?"
"Yeah dad, I grabbed some bread earlier."
"Are you sure that’s enough? You know I can go grab some peaches we harvested yester-"
"Dad, I’m fine. Don’t worry."
"Heh…don’t worry? How can I not worry Stiles, today’s the day.”
Stiles continued to fix himself in the mirror. His hair couldn’t for the life of him stay up right; he knew he shouldn’t have let it grow out this long. Was trying to impress Lydia Martin really worth it? No but really, was it worth trying control his rat nest called hair?
"Dad I know it’s the day," He turned away from the mirror and to his dad, "But it’s gonna be okay. All I’m doing is taking an exam, it’s nothing major." Stiles said.
"Nothing major?!" his dad exclaimed, "Stiles. Today is really major, are you kidding me, it’s-"
"I know, I know."
Stiles knew how mega important this day was, oh yes he did; but his way of dealing with the stress of it all was to try and make it seem like it wasn’t eating away at him. He looked one more time at the mirror, straightening his orange shirt and yellow pants, then giving his hair one more try at looking presentable. It was weird that of all days it was the day of the aptitude test that made Stiles actually try to look good.
"The legendary aptitude test. Where they tell you if you’re exactly where you should be or if you’ve wasted the past 16 years of your life."
Stiles’ dad sighed, “Stiles-“
"I’m just saying dad. I mean, what if I find out that I’m not where I belong. What if I find out I’m like something completely opposite of Amity, like Dauntless!"
"Well whatever it is your tests results end up being just know that the end choice is yours, okay? If you wanna stay in Amity then stay in Amity."
Stiles didn’t say anything but he noticed how his dad said that. He knew that he’d prefer Stiles staying here, instead of leaving to some other faction. It would make things a hell of a lot easier if he did get Amity.
He wouldn’t have to leave his dad, or try to to fit in some weird environment that’s not fields of corn or watermelon....
You know what, maybe he should leave.
All his life Stiles has been doing nothing but work on farms and fields then singing melodies with everyone right after; living a peaceful life. That was it, quietness and peace; they blame war and violence for what's wrong with humankind. It seems like a dream life but lately it’s been getting harder and harder for Stiles to just accept that.
In this city, there are five factions; The brave Dauntless, the smart Erudite, the kind Amity, the selfless Abnegation, and the honest Candor. He’s been to the town were the teens would meet up for the aptitude test; seeing all the other factions in person. He’s especially seen the a-holes from Dauntless once or twice.
If life was supposed to be all about peace and harmony, how come those Dauntless misfits are even a thing? They're the soldiers and police officers, they must be there for a reason. What exactly are they protecting?
So many questions that are always floating around Stile’s head but never really get answered. It was part of the reason he started doubting the teachings of Amity, and maybe even this whole system of factions.
After a couple more minutes of talk with his dad, Stile’s heard something. It was a bell; the bell signaling the starting of the aptitude tests.
"Oh man, we better go."
^
"Hey Stiles!"
Stiles looked over his shoulder as he waited at the town square and a grin immediately formed on his face. He turned and waved as the young boy wearing a long grey sweater and grey pants came running over to him.
"Scott! Hey buddy, how’s it been?"
"Oh y’know, I’ve been…helping." Scott answered while rubbing the back of his neck.
"Oh yeah, of course." Stiles nodded realizing his dumb question. Scott was from Abnegation, so of course they were always helping. That was there thing, just help help help. The life of the selfless.
Eventhough he and Scott were from different factions, Stiles was best friends with him. The kind Amity and the selfless Abnegation were allies in the past so it wasn’t such a big deal to faction leaders. They don’t see each other on a day-to-day basis but it hasn’t stopped them from getting as close as they have.
"So, you ready for your test?"
"Psshh, you kiddin’? It’ll be a cinch; probably won’t even last very long."
"Hehe, you sure about that?" Scott lightly smirked at him, "I mean it’s a pretty intense test. I heard one guy got so freaked out that he almost didn’t make it."
Stiles rolled his eyes, “Oh please. People just make up those rumors so that they scare everyone. I personally don’t think it’ll be that bad at all.”
"Hmm, I think your Amity is showing a little Stiles." Scott said. Stiles raised his eyebrow, "What?"
"You think everything is all peaches and sunshine, dude. Maybe the test is actually hard. I mean it’s the test that helps us decide what faction we belong-"
"I never said everything was ‘peaches and sunshine’…which by the way is a really advanced way of describing it so congrats on your part but the point is that I’m just not ripping my hair out about, okay?"
Except, Stiles was ripping his hair out about it. Not literally, but he definitely felt like it. He didn’t want to say anything to his dad or to Scott because the Amity are supposed to positive all the time but he was seriously doubting his test results being good.
What if he had to leave Amity? Or….what if he had to stay?
What if he had to go to Dauntless?
"Hmm, okay fine. I hope you’re right though. I’ll see you later man." Scott responded and he walked off after giving Stiles a pat on the arm.
It wasn’t long before they started letting everyone into the huge building in the middle of town square. Stiles along with his fellow Amity comrades started walking up until, almost like it was planned, they heard the loud screeching of a train coming closer. Stiles looked behind to the trained tracks, that were so inconveniently placed right next to the huge building, to spot the infamous Dauntless train coming in.
One by one the wild, red colored, overly energetic misfits came jumping--not walking, but jumping--out of the train. As it was still moving.
What the fuck.
Stiles looked on with a mixed look of disgust and….amazement? Maybe even a slight hint of jealousy?
Seeing all those kids the exact same age as him come hurdling out of a moving train then walking off with a little scratch on them? It was like a circus to him. He’d never seen anything like that at Amity.
He tried to look away, which was hard seeing as the Dauntless decided to scream as they entered the building.
"Fucking annoying I swear…" he said to himself. But deep down….like way deep down….he almost admired their wild nature.
Amity was all peace, Dauntless was all war. Two polar opposites, it would be foolish of him to want to join them….
Wouldn’t it?
^
"So what exactly does that do?"
"Just sit back, uhh…uhh…H-How do you say your name?" the administrator stumbled.
"Just call me Stiles, and you didn’t answer my question Dr.Deaton" he said while reading the guy’s name tag.
"Hehe, just sit back Stiles. It’s just a serum used for the test. It connects you to the simulation program used to find out what faction you most fit well in." he explained. Stiles nodded,
"And these things attached to my skull? And those machines?"
"Hehehe, you sure ask a lot of questions. Just trust me, you’ll be fine. Just drink it so we can get started."
Stiles looked around the room; it was covered in mirrors and was lit orange. In the center of the room was this weird dentist-chair-looking-chair which Stiles was sitting in right now. He was skeptical, but he drank the serum and felt a weird rush from his throat up to his head. He has his eyes closed for a few seconds, before he opens them to reveal that except for him the room is empty.
No Deaton, no weird machines, nothing….just him in the empty room, with the mirrors.
The….strangely big…luring mirrors.
Stiles stepped forward, the sound of his footstep echoing in the room. He walked towards his reflection…watching as it’s movements matched his and…looked so real. It was almost as if another human Stiles was on the other side.
So he tried to touch him. Except when he lifted his arm, another Stiles appeared behind it. Then another….and another; all making the same arm-lifted pose he was. The room filled with clones, he was surrounded by them.
And as if this couldn’t get any weirder, they all suddenly disappeared as one them spoke; the one infront of him.
"Choose." it said, as it’s face remained neutral.
"Choose?" Stiles repeated. He looked at the other Stiles in confusion, until he looked down and saw things even more strange.
There were tables, one had a knife on it while the other had cheese. Stiles looked at them, then looked back up at other-Stiles.
Yes, it’s how he’ll refer to it as.
"Choose…choose what?"
"Just choose." Other-Stiles shrugged. Stiles looked back, and he figured he’d grab the knife. Whatever was going on he had a bad feeling, and needed some sort of protection.
Not some freaking cheese, even though he was hungry. Probably should have listened to his dad earlier and ate more. Once he had chosen, the clone and the tables disappeared. He looked around and saw nothing, until he heard a bark.
He quickly turned around and saw the huge brown dog watering at the mouth, barking at him over and over. Stiles didn't waste any time to run but the dog only caught up. He ducked just in time but the dog kept chasing him.
"Woah woah little guy, let’s be calm here!" he shouted. He looked down at his knife and contemplated on using it. It wasn’t in Stile’s nature, for god’s sake he’s from Amity and they don’t fight.
Stiles put the knife down and quickly submits to the dog with his arms held up to try and protect him. He waited for the attack….but nothing happened. He just heard a whimper.
He looked up and saw the dog, but it wasn’t chasing him. It was smaller and it was sitting, wagging it’s tail with it’s tongue out. Stiles popped a grin.
"Aww…see, I knew we could calm you down. You’re just a sweet animal." he said as he gently pet the newly-tamed beast. He continued to lightly stroke it’s fur when he heard another sound.
"Oww."
He turned behind him and there was a little boy. He was dressed in Amity clothing, and looked kind of like Stiles. He didn’t recognize him though, but he saw that his arm was bloody.
"Hey! You’re bleeding, are you okay?"
The boy whimpered, and as Stiles came closer to him he raised his arm revealing a gun pointing to the dog.
"Did the dog do it?" the boy said, tears running down his face. Stiles so beyond confused that he could feel himself getting a headache.
"Look…just calm down okay…."
He looked at the boy’s arm and saw that the blood came from a bite mark. From the looks of it, a canine. It was the dog…
"Did…the dog…do it?" the boy asked again, still pointing the gun at the now little and defenseless dog.
"Okay…yes, it did. It did bite you but look I’m sure that it’s sorry so you don’t need to shoot it.". Stiles saw the the little boy lower the gun which made him relax but when he heard the dog growl again he got worried.
In not even five seconds the dog began to chase the little boy, barking loud and it’s fangs showing just like when it attacked Stiles. The boy shrieked, dropped the gun and ran. Stiles wasted no time. He got up and ran after the rabid dog, trying to save to boy this time; he tackled it and they fell to the floor.
And then his eyes shot open.
His breathing was quick and uncontrolled; Stiles looked around and saw that he was back in the testing room, with Dr.Deaton scrambling through some papers.
"Get up. GET UP!" Deaton yelled. Stiles was wide-eyed and completely weirded out and confused.
"Woah woah, what’s going on? What were my results?"
The Dr. mumbled, "When you go home tell your family you were sick and I sent you home. Tell them you got Amity as well and-"
"Stop!"
Deaton stopped as Stiles grabbed on hard to his arm. Stiles didn’t even realize it until Deaton looked down at it, then he quickly let go.
"Listen Stiles, you need to leave-"
"What were my results?…..Dr.Deaton what were my results?"
He looked straight at the Dr. who looked back. Deaton sighed heavily, before looking away from the young boy. “Inconclusive.”
"Inconclusive?" Stiles repeated, eyebrow raised.
"Yes…it’s a…a rare occurrence. I’ve only seen this one other time."
"Seen what one other time?"
Deaton remained silent.
"Deaton what’s going on? What does inconclusive mean?"
"It means…that you show signs of more that one faction."
Stiles’ mouth fell slightly open, and his eyes wide. Did he just hear right? Sowing signs of more than one faction? Is that even possible? He thought this test supposed to pick out which one faction he belong to!
"More than one faction? Is that….how can that happen? What does that even mean?"
"Well it’s complicated. During the simulation, you’re given different tests or scenarios and your response to them dictate which faction best suits you. Except this time…your results show that your suited for four."
"Four?" Stiles barely spoke out.
"Yes. When you were asked to choose between the knife and the cheese, you chose the knife?"
Stiles remained quiet, with a slight nod of his head.
"That choice is Dauntless. But when you came to face the beast you submitted to it instead of fighting back; an Abnegation response."
Stiles listened or at least he tried to listen but his mind kept racing. Just what the fuck is going on here? How can he….why can he..
Ooooh, this is giving him a bigger headache.
"During the simulation, did you face a situation were you had to be honest?"
Stiles blinked, “Uhh….U-Uhh yeah…..yeah, when the…the little boy asked me if the dog bit him I said he did. Eventhough….he had a gun and was gonna shoot it, I still did….then I had to tackle it as soon as it started chasing the kid.”
Deaton put his hand on Stiles’ shoulder, which Stiles just stared at.He gulped, then spoke.
"Stiles….you telling the truth, being honest, was a Candor choice. And tackling the dog, that required quick thinking which is Erudite…
Stiles…you shows signs of four factions, not just one. Which means you can’t be categorized, your mind works differently. They call people like you….Divergent.”
….Well…today just became the weirdest, confusing, exhausting and down right most fucked up day of his life. And it’s not even Wednesday…
He sat there and stared idly into space as the word repeated in his head, Divergent….Divergent….
Sounds like a laundry soap.
Deaton hurriedly got Stiles out of the chair and pushed him out the door, making sure he knew to never tell anyone about himself. A Divergent is one of the most rarest of people in their city and if anyone found out…
Well, let’s just say it wouldn’t be pretty.
Stiles walked out the building and back to his small house in the Amity faction. His dad of course grilled him as he walked in, but Stiles kept his cool.
Well…if keeping your cool meant stuttering after every syllable and refusing to look someone in the eye, then yes he was definitely keeping his cool…
Okay, maybe not.
Stiles was so sure he would slip that he made up some lame excuse that he had to go practice on his bongo drums so that he could leave. He never played his bongo drums. Who even plays bongo drums anymore?
He went to his room and locked the door behind him with his back pressed to it; then he slowly slipped down the floor. The word continued to replay over and over in his mind again. Divergent….Divergent…Divergent…
Deaton mentioned how rare but dangerous that was. Before he left, Stiles swore he saw sweat beading off the doctor’s forehead. Dr.Deaton even told Stiles to never tell anyone, not even his dad. But knowing Stiles, keeping a secret this big isn’t going to be easy….
That’s an understatement, “This is gonna be a nightmare.” he said.
"How the hell does this even happen?….What am I gonna do tomorrow? How the hell can I pick just one? A-A-And how…how did I get Dauntless?! I’m Amity, I’m the complete opposite of Dauntless! This….this isn’t happening."
Stiles groned as he slammed his head into his hands and remained on the floor. He heard his dad knocking a few times but he didn’t respond, he just sat and thought of all the pros and cons to being what he was. On one side, he has a chance to leave Amity and be the faction of his choosing…but one the other side, he has four different recommendations and none of them are Amity.
Which was weird, because he’s lived in Amity all his life. How can it be that he doesn’t belong here?…..Then again, Stiles did always feel like and outcast whenever he was with the other Amity….
"You know what," he finally said as he stood up, "I’m not dealing with this now. I’m gonna go to bed, take a long-ass nap and….think about all this tomorrow."
Yeah, that was his master plan. Put it all of for tomorrow. Tomorrow’s problem. Not now, but tomorrow.
The next day.
Which technically was in like 8 hours, but whatever.
^
~The Next Day~
"Please quietly walk in a straight line into the choosing room. Be sure to fill every row, and every seat. And…wait a minute, GREENBURG IS THAT FOOD?! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING? NO FOOD IN THE CHOOSING ROOM!"
"Damn, Mr.Finstock woke up on the wrong side the bed today." Stiles said walking past the scene.
"Yeah well it’s a stressful day, having to deal with over a hundred teenagers all at once." Scott responded,"Plus he hates Greenburg."
They both laughed as they went inside the almost crowded room, full of kids and families from each faction. The colors were everywhere too; Dauntless wore red, Erudite wore blue, Candor wore white, Amity wore yellow and Abnegation wore grey. Stiles walked down the stairs leading to the stage…he saw the different bowls holding either rocks or water or…whatever.
"Dude look."
"Yeah….it’s exactly like my mom said."
Each bowl signified a faction; a bow full of jagged rock was for Dauntless. He stared at the bowl…wondering just how it would feel to walk up to it, to actually pledge to be in that faction. His dad would probably kill him.
His dad still doesn’t know about him….and that just makes it worse. He probably thinks Stiles will pick Amity, and to be honest it would save a lot of time and energy.
But is it what he wanted though? Well, I guess he’ll just have to-
"Oww!"
Stiles fell ass-first to the floor, almost knocking Scott down with him. He rubbed his head because it felt like he hit a brick wall. But he then looked up, seeing a pair of eyes looking down at him. Piercing green eyes, almost illuminating eyes…almost serial-killer-looking eyes. They belong to an even more serial-killer-looking guy; with arms as big as…well as big as….there were big, okay?
He stammered to say something, or to even take Scott’s offered hand to get him up. When he did he looked at the large guy, he noticed his uniform; Dauntless. Oh great, this is just…great.
Yep, he’s about to die. All due to his clumsiness.