FULL SUMMARY: Eric's execution is stopped at the last second by a strange woman named Rain. When he realizes who she is, he instantly pairs them as enemies. His life is flipped upside-down when he is tossed into Renaissance headquarters, which is a world arguably harsher than a Dauntless prison to those who do not know their place. However, punishment isn't his only purpose here, despite his own belief. Rain knows he will not be an easy one to control. He is determined to defy her and everyone else at Renaissance, still loyal to Erudite and Dauntless traitors, but Rain has her own plans for him. Can she help him, or is it a lost cause?
Chapter #1: Rain
Eric Grayson. Dauntless leader. Erudite conspirator.
She watched from a distance as he was forced down into the interrogation chair by two other Dauntless, where he sat back in an insultingly relaxed manner. Eric Grayson. She had heard quite a lot about him over the past few weeks, and to say he sparked her interest would have been a dry understatement.
He had been described as the worst of the worst: guiltless murderer—conspirator—eyes of steel ice—child killer—merciless. Yet as she looked him over for herself, he was nothing like the images her mind had depicted. His features were smooth and unscarred, unlike many of the criminals she had encountered in the past. The only marks she could see were the bold tattoos going down his neck and forearms, and the horizontal piercing above his right eyebrow. His eyes were vibrant and alert, grey-blue in color and strangely youthful despite the arctic chill they emitted as they glanced around the room.
Dauntless crowded the room, surrounding him in a black-clad mass that would have appeared menacing to most others, like a horde of ravens awaiting their prey. Yet his eyes remained unperturbedly set straight forward, not a single trace of unease about him. Many probably assumed he was just a cold robot, or perhaps insane, but she knew better. She had dealt with enough of his kind to know. They were all scared. Every single one of them. They all thought they were the baddest of the bad. Deep down, she knew that if she pushed him far enough he would break into a million pieces. Anyone would, herself included. This man was no different.
"Would you like me to tell you your crimes?"
Her eyes shifted to the woman that had spoke. She was of Asian descent, her dark eyes cold and appearing rather unconcerned for the man seated in the chair. Rain recognized her as one of the new Dauntless leaders, Tori. "Or would you like to list them yourself?"
She watched as Eric lifted his head, his slate blue eyes scanning the crowd slowly. She followed his gaze as it set solidly on a young girl, probably not a day over seventeen, her large doe eyes staring back at him. The smallest of smirks tugged at the corners of his mouth.
"I want the stiff to list them," he said at last, his voice calm.
"Leave her out of this," Four snapped, who had remained silent for the most part up until this point.
"Why?" Eric lifted his head to set him with an unruffled look. "Because you're doing her? Oh, wait. I forgot. Stiffs don't do that sort of thing. They just tie each other's shoes and cut each other's hair."
Rain eyes shifted back to Four in interest, curious to see how the stony-faced Dauntless would react to his enemy's boorish words. His expression didn't change, but only a fool wouldn't be able to sense the anger slowly drawing to a boiling point behind the vacant mask. Eric smirked at his rival's silent frustration.
"I want her to list them," he repeated.
The girl stepped forward without hesitation, large, warm hazel eyes uncharacteristically cold. "You conspired with Erudite. You are responsible for the deaths of hundreds of Abnegation. You betrayed Dauntless. You shot a child in the head. You are a ridiculous plaything of Jeanine Matthews." Her voice was cold—unwavering.
Rain's lips pulled into a small frown as she listened to the list, and briefly her green eyes shifted back towards Eric. The smug smirk playing his lips had faltered slightly when the girl had dubbed him Jeanine Matthews toy, a rather appropriate and grimly humorous side comment, in her opinion.
"Do I deserve to die?" he asked.
Four went to answer, but the girl beat him to it.
"Yes," she replied coldly and without pause.
"Fair enough," he said. "But do you have the right to decide that, Beatrice Prior?"
Rain paused. Beatrice Prior? Her eyes shifted back over to the blonde-haired girl curiously. So, this was the infamous Tris she had been hearing about. It made sense, now that she thought back on Four's relatively protective behavior when he had seen Eric was targeting her.
Eric continued, "Like you decided the fate of that other boy—what was his name? Will?"
Tris visibly tensed at her friend's name, and Eric's smirk was revived. Rain's eyes narrowed the slightest bit. Fearless and malicious. The type she most enjoyed toying with.
Four spoke up then. "You have committed every crime that warrants execution among the Dauntless," he said unfeelingly. "We have the right to execute you, under the laws of Dauntless."
Rain's stare shifted to Four's feet, where he was unloading three guns of their bullets. Putting one bullet in a gun, he shuffled them, and when she glanced back towards Eric's face she saw he was watching Four intently. One gun goes to Tori, and the other to Harrison, another Dauntless leader.
"Wait," he said suddenly. "I have a request."
"We don't take orders from criminals," said Tori. She sounded nothing short of tired and, for lack of better term, bored. It was clear she could have cared less about the situation at hand. If anything, she was eager to get it overwith.
"I am a leader of Dauntless, and all I want is for Four to be the one who fires that bullet."
"Why?" Four demanded.
"So you can live with the guilt of knowing you usurped me and then shot me in the head," he said simply.
Four gave him a look of indistinct, contemptuous amusement. "There won't be any guilt."
Eric remained unmoved, eyes focused intently on his enemy. "Then you won't have a problem doing it."
Four loaded one of the bullets into the first chamber of his gun.
"Tell me," said Eric quietly. "Because I've always wondered. Is it your daddy who shows up in every fear landscape you've ever gone through?"
Rain's eyes narrowed. At that comment, her decision was made.
Four didn't answer.
"You don't like that question?" Eric asked smoothly. "What, afraid the Dauntless are going to change their minds about you? Realize that even though you've only got four fears, you're still a coward?" He straightened in his chair then, arms resting on the armrest in a calm fashion that was almost mocking. He was welcoming death, eyes cold as ever—unflinching—unafraid.
Four held the gun up to his head, and Eric's eyes glanced to the barrel fleetingly before returning his eyes back to Four. That. That right there was what she had been waiting for. That single, yet incredibly subtle, gesture—unbeknownst to Eric—was the one thing that spared him a bullet between the eyes.
"Stop." The command was quiet and firm, but amongst the deathly silence wavering throughout the room it sounded deafening.
Four's head lifted sharply, finger still pressed against the trigger, as his eyes searched the crowd for the intrusive voice. A millisecond later, and it would have been over. His eyes landed on her as she stepped forth, and the second he saw her, a glimmer of recognition appeared in his dark brown eyes. His face said it all. Looking down, his face twitched in a stiff-jawed grimace.
"Shit."
Tris, on the other hand, looked completely confused, as she split from the crowd herself to join Four's side. "Who is she?"
Four glanced at her. "Long story," was his muttered reply.
Rain ignored the eyes staring her down as she came to a stop a short ten feet from where Four stood with his finger still pressed against the gun's trigger. "Hello, Four," she said smoothly. "It's been awhile."
"Not this one, Rain." His eyes were drilling holes through hers. "You don't want him. Believe me."
A small smile tugged at her lips, and she glanced down to Eric, who had remained silent, his eyes having snapped to her the second she had spoken up. He was staring up at her, cold exterior having allowed the smallest traces of curiosity to surface on his features. He had not shown a single trace of fear even as Four's finger had been pulling back against the trigger. Tris, on the other hand, still appeared completely lost, large, chocolate brown eyes shifting between the three of them in poorly concealed confusion, and no less suspicion.
"Who are you?"
Rain lifted her eyes to her. "Rain. You must be Tris."
She nodded faintly.
"I'm the leader of Renaissance."
Her eyes widened. "Renaissance?" She looked to Four. "The sixth faction?"
"If you want to call it a faction," Eric muttered. "It's more like a prison. A home for strays and factionless rejects."
His comment went ignored by everyone but Rain.
"A prison?" she said, regaining their attentions. "Hardly. No one is kept behind bars. That kind of safety isn't provided in Renaissance."
Tris stared at her, but before she could question the woman any further, Tori had stepped forward.
"Why do you want him?" she demanded.
Her eyes shifted to her. "What, you don't think it would be fun to see how he does?"
The woman stared at her.
"He'd be the pitbull amongst a horde of hellhounds."
Eric looked up at her, frowning the slightest bit. What the hell did that mean? Then at last, she looked down to him, her eyes cool as she met his directly. They held gazes only briefly before she redirected her stare back to Four, her voice calm as the morning tide.
"Let him up."
Gun lifting from his head, Eric felt Four grip the back of his collar, and the moment he was on his feet he was roughly shoved forward towards Rain. He stood in the center of the room, shoulders back and head held high in blatant defiance as he stared at her with cold, unimpressed eyes—as if she were an insignificant insect crawling at his feet. He didn't know much about Renaissance. They kept to themselves, separated from other factions, but he knew that they were respected. He never understood it. They were an unofficial faction, in his opinion, because they didn't accept dependants like other factions did. They did not have a spot during the choosing ceremony. They were strays—a home for rebels and factionless. How they went about choosing new initiates, he was never clear on. Renaissance were vultures, circling and patrolling the streets in search for new additions. He liked to think of them as talent scouts for the homeless.
What was she doing here?
"Eric Grayson. We meet at last."
The cold shell cracked for a split second. How did she know his last name? His teeth gritted in annoyance. He hated that name. He'd gotten rid of it a long time ago, and he had done so for a reason.
Tris looked to Four in question, and when he spoke his voice was low so only she could hear. "A lot of people change or abandon their names when they join Dauntless. All for different reasons."
Rain approached him coolly, green eyes scanning him with minimal discretion, as her hands clasped in a relaxed manner behind her back.
"I know all about you. The question is… should I spare your worthless carcass or let them shoot you?"
He said nothing, eyes directed straight forward in unyielding insubordination. He did not have to answer to this woman. If it hadn't been for the fact he'd be shot dead before reaching her, he would have made an effort to snap her pretty little neck.
"Oh, come now, Grayson. Aren't we a bit old for the silent treatment?"
A few snickers hummed throughout the area, and his jaw tensed in anger. She was openly mocking him in front of Dauntless. Stiffly, his slate blue eyes shifted to meet hers, making his thoughts of her clear with a single glance.
"Call me by that name again, and we'll see if they can shoot me before I break your neck."
She did not flinch away, nor did her eyes avert his, appearing completely unfazed by the threat. What she did do caused his blood to boil and threaten to blister through his skin.
She smiled at him. It a mere faint tug at the lips, one of those condescending smirks that plainly said: Yes, I'm scorning you. Do something about it.
"Those won't be necessary," she said suddenly, motioning to his bound wrists.
Flipping out his knife, Four wordlessly walked up behind Eric, who glanced back at him fleetingly before setting the woman before him with a narrow-eyed glare. He felt the binds constricting his wrists give, and Four stiffly returned to his spot beside Tris.
She was daring him. She was daring him to make an attempt at attacking her. The opportunity to slap this smug bitch was appealing, but he stood his ground and kept calm despite the frothing rage silently bubbling within his core. He was no fool. If he attacked her, he would be gunned down instantly. It wasn't being shot that was holding him back, however.
"No one raise their guns to him," she said composedly.
Surprise flickered across his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by suspicion. She was openly giving him permission to attack. It was almost insulting, and it further ignited his anger. He was fully aware she was testing his ability to maintain control, and he wasn't about to give her the satisfaction of seeing him snap. So, he just stood there, eyes locked with hers in competitive defiance, and, to further flout her, he went as far as to clasp his hands in front of him in a casual manner, candidly mocking her posture. He could play this game, too.
Instead of faltering, however, her smile only grew at his prideful display, and she took a step towards him, where she proceeded to circle him slowly. He did not turn with her or follow her with his eyes, keeping a solid stare forward, body straight with rigid conceit. If she was trying to intimidate him, it would not work.
"Good posture, initiate," she commented offhandedly.
He paused suddenly. Initiate?
"Yes… I think so." Turning her head towards Four and Tris, she gave them a reassuring nod. "If you don't mind, I'll be taking him off your hands."
"You can't do this," objected Four.
"I'm sorry, but I can."
He glared at her.
"What are you going to do with him?" asked Tris.
Rain looked at her. "I'm going to see if he's capable of learning a few things. And if not…" Stopping at his side, she turned her head to look him straight in the eyes. "Well… he'll find out."
With that, two large men stepped forward wielding stun guns, and before Eric could so much as object he was being seized by the arms and hauled towards the exit. His first thoughts were to fight against them, the confusion and rage threatening to make him foam at the mouth, but he quickly composed himself. He wouldn't give them the pleasure of watching him struggle. He was alive… for now. If he played his cards right, he might be able to escape and make his way back to Erudite headquarters.
At the last minute, he turned his gaze over his shoulder to look back at Four and the stiff, only to be greeted by the satisfying, darkened glares they were drilling into his back.
They were fools for letting him walk out of there alive.