Hello all! I am so excited to present the first chapter of my new story. For any of you who follow or remember me from my earlier, unfinished story Emergent; I am sorry this is not an update to that! After I stopped writing due to some health issues in my family I lost my direction and pacing with that story. I've tried picking it back up but no luck thus far. However I started working on this back in July and I've recently developed a desire to continue working on and publishing this.

As I've said in the past, I have not read very much Divergent fanfic. As such, I'm not really sure if this is something that has already been done yet or not. I did a few searches to try and see and didn't really come up with much. So hopefully this is original.

This first chapter is merely introductory and quite a bit shorter than future chapters as well. Due to that, I will probably upload in another day or two to get the story moving. I appreciate any and all feedback and I do hope you take the time out to let me know your thoughts!

Januarys in Chicago are bitter. The mornings were the coldest. So even with his hurried footsteps and all of the proper winter attire he could still feel the cold seeping through every layer. The clusters of people all around him carried themselves in the same way, simply desperate to be somewhere warm again. They hunch their backs and tuck in their arms, trying to hold in whatever semblance of heat they can.

Most mornings he had blinders on. He metaphorically wore them both due to his mild exhaustion as well as his complete disinterest of interacting with the other individuals or general world around him. So it surprises even himself when his morning takes a turn for the drastically different.

Almost every corner street of Chicago contained a beggar, maybe even a couple. During the winter holidays you could find them outside of many stores, until they were shooed away by the shop owners, playing on people's sympathies for the less fortunate. There were also certain blocks where many could be seen gathered together; very few interacting but almost all coexisting.

Usually they were just groups of older men and women, undoubtedly aged by hardships of living without a home. He finds himself stopping, eyes stuck on the unusual image, pausing despite his earlier brisk pace in order to fight off the constantly intruding cold. Now he finds himself staring ahead, the only thing distorting his image being the bodies walking quickly past him and his own exhalations of warm air. How strange to see someone like the girl in front of him among this group though.

She's young, he thinks, maybe not even of legal age. A runaway, perhaps, or someone who just got mixed in with the wrong crowd. Her stature is short and her build alarmingly small. And he isn't quite sure why he cares about any of that. With a shake of his head he's just about to walk away when movement in the corner of his eye stops him. In the dark recesses of the alley where two buildings sit so close together only the smallest of people might fit comfortably; a young boy pokes his head out.

With blue lips and trembling fingers he steps out, looking scared but weak more than anything else. The girl spies him shortly after. She stares for a moment as well, but then she springs into action. She takes the coat off of her back, it's puffy and an unfortunate shade of green with a large gash in one of the elbows, and holds it out to him. He takes one step toward her, then another, very similar to a timid deer who might be easily startled. Then he snatches the jacket out of her hand and runs the other direction, slow and laborious, but he runs away before she can change her mind.

She makes no move to go after him but instead stands in her far less insulated body, just a long sleeved Henley and some hole filled gloves to keep her warm now.

His hands move in response, an odd twitch really, to take his own coat off and offer it to her. But he quickly thinks better of it. He knows just what his father would say to an act like that. "We only help those who help themselves." The homeless had surrounded him his whole life and he knew only the biggest trouble makers managed to land themselves in this sort of scenario. They didn't work hard enough, didn't strive to make a living and took the easy route out to obtain pity. Just because they were capable of kindness didn't mean he should fall for the silent cries of ill earned sympathy.

So he helps this girl just as much as she's helped herself and turns away, hurrying off again with far less feeling in his feet and a much colder spot in his chest.