Hey guys! Welcome to my new fic! So this will be Eric/OC and it is rated M mainly for dark themes and swearing...and maybe future Eric scenes? I don't know. You'll have to persuade me.
This story takes place one year after Tris' initiation, so just clarifying that Clara is 16 and Eric is 19.
So if you're reading this now, you'll probably have come from one of my other fics, 'Feels Like Flying' or 'Strong Emotions', but if not, check 'em out! I'm really excited for this fic and I don't think I've ever written a character in the way I've written Clara, so hopefully this all turns out good!
IMPORTANT NOTICE: check out my bio for the instagram page for this fic! Give it a follow!
Without further ado, here's chapter one!
"Fucking hell," Uri rasps from where he is pinned under me, my knees either side of his chest and my forearm applying pressure to his windpipe.
I let out a breathy laugh, a few strands of hair that have come loose from my ponytail twirling in front of my face as I pant, grinning down at my brother. Despite his colourful outburst, Uri's eyes are full of mirth, a wolfish smile playing on his lips. Uriah may be a year older, and almost a foot taller, but it doesn't stop me from being able to beat him in a fight, and today is no different.
A shout from across the room has my head turning away from my brother, but it's only Zeke, watching us fight with the world's biggest smirk plastered across his face.
"How on earth did you get so fast kiddo?" He shakes his head at me, some of his dark hair falling in his eyes. "And Uri, you've been getting slow ever since initiation finished anyway, but that was just awful."
I giggle, rolling off Uriah and lying down next to him on the mat. It's no secret around Dauntless that if one Pedrad sibling is somewhere, the other two aren't far behind. The rumours aren't wrong, when I first moved here I followed Uri and Zeke everywhere, and they themselves outright refused to leave me by myself. Four years later at sixteen, I still have my two personal bodyguards and they still have their pesky sister tagalong.
Though I think I've just proved to Uri once again that I don't need him to protect me.
A few seconds later, Zeke is sitting at my feet. I notice the mischief in his eyes too late, and shriek as his fingers begin to tickle the soles of my feet. Screeching, I make to lunge away, but Uri is suddenly in on it and I'm suddenly the one pinned to the ground instead of him, writhing and screaming and laughing.
"Payback!" Shouts the younger brother, no lack of humour in his cry. My breaths escape as short panting shouts, my eyes streaming as I try to catch my breath but it's no use, I am laughing to hard.
"Zeke!" I plead, my feeting kicking and straining against his attack. My eyes meet his, silently begging while I scream with laughter. With a soft smile, he relents, and Uriah groans as he realises his payback has been cut short.
"You go too easy on her, man!"
It's not untrue, Zeke, as the oldest brother, has always made it his personal duty to be over protective of me, even if it means not being able to say no to me. It's useful, but I can't help but resent where his protectiveness stems from.
I gulp. Thinking about Zeke's protectiveness makes the differences in our appearences suddenly become all too clear – the stark contrast between their dark, tan skin and unruly brown hair and my pale, pasty skin and loose blonde curls. I hate that I don't look like them. They're my brothers, my family, much more so than the people I originally called 'family'. They've supported me and helped me recover in ways I hadn't thought possible until I arrived here at Dauntless.
Out of habit, I tug my long sleeves down a little further.
Zeke catches the movement, his eyes meeting mine. He's knows about my past, one of few – only Dauntless leaders and my family here know what happened. In the busy atmostphere of Dauntless, hardly anybody noticed when, four years ago, a terrified Abnegation twelve year old arrived and assumed a new family. I'm thankful for it. People accept me as a talented member of Dauntless, who received Dauntless in her aptitude test and who will soon choose Dauntless without a breath of hesitation at the choosing ceremony tomorrow.
Zeke's eyes hold only a silent question. Are you okay? I nod discretely at him, all laughter drained from my system. Thankfully, Uriah, wheezing on the mat next to me has not been paying attention and goes to get up when a cold voice interrupts us all.
"Well isn't this cozy," A sneer, and I don't even need to turn my head to tell that it is Eric.
My brothers cannot stand up to Eric, they cannot talk to him the way I do. As full Dauntless members, any sign of disrespect from them could reflect badly on them, or their position at work. They wouldn't dare talk back to him. But, as someone who is yet to go through initiation, and possibly the only person in the compound who is not afraid of Eric, I turn around, a disparaging smile on my face.
"How nice to see you here, Eric," I bite. My brothers, behind me, start climbing to their feet.
Ignoring my remark, Eric saunters into the room, looking idly around as if he doesn't see this room every morning when he trains. Despite his supposedly careless actions, I know that every move of his is calculated, designed to give off only the the version of him he wants to be seen. Not one of his actions is without purpose. As he walks, his thick, leather boots making an unmissable thud every time they hit the ground. The floor beneath us almost seems to shake.
His eyes are steel. There isn't a hint of emotion that Eric lets show to the point where I've come to wonder if he is actually feels emotion at all. As usual, his cropped hair is immaculate, combed back to the side of his face, showing off the tattoos that creep up his neck. If Uriah and Zeke are a lot bigger than me, I would hate to see myself standing next to Eric. He's huge, his muscles straining against his simple black t-shirt.
"Training for your initiation?" He smirks at me. I can feel Zeke bristle behind me.
"And what if I was?" I snap back.
Eric just raises an eyebrow.
"Then I'd ask to show me exactly what you call training," Eric mocks, his voice low and dangerous. My cheeks heat up and I take a step forward, closer to where Eric waits in his wide stance. His lip curls as I point my finger at him, resentment bubbling inside me for this man who, through his threatening actions, has become known throughout all of Dauntless as someone to be reckoned with.
"You wanna fight, Eric? I'll bring a fucking war."
His face shows no sign that he has even registered my comment, but I almost believe I can see his eyes darkening. I know I am pushing the limits here – challenging Eric to a fight is something I have never done, no matter how angry I've been. Logically, I know that I can never win against him. Despite being one of the fastest in Dauntless due to my slight build, Eric matches my speed in his strength and intelligence, not to mention that he's not exactly slow either. But in my anger, my logic doesn't register.
Behind me, I can feel Zeke tensing. I know that he's a strong fighter – he's been training with Four almost daily since his initiation finished. But if he stepped in, challenged Eric's authority, his neck would be on the line.
"Clara..." Uri warns. Eric's eyes never leave mine.
"Is that a challenge, Pedrad?"
His words wash over me with a sense of dread. I know that I can't back down now – the damage to my pride would be worse if I backed down from Eric more so than if I lost to him. And if I get a few good hits in...
Maybe I can finally prove to him that he's not the only force to be reckoned with.
I nod once, my brow pushing into a slight frown. I shouldn't have pushed it this far in the first place, shouldn't even be in this situation. If only Eric would leave me alone.
Within heartbeats, Eric pulls his shirt over his head and strides over to the training mats. Shakily, I follow. My fists clench by my sides.
As I face Eric, out of the corner of my eye I can see Zeke take a step forward. I can only imagine what sort of dilemma he's in, but clearly his protective instincts won out. My heart swells for my brother, who because of my own stupid stubbornness is about to watch his sister get beaten to a pulp.
"That's enough," Zeke growls. I can hear the thunder in his voice, it's as much a warning to me as it is Eric. I take a second to glance at him.
Turning back to Eric, I try to hide my cringe at the sheer size of him, the threat radiating off him. I swallow, pushing down my strong desire to run, and never look back. Instead I focus on my other instincts – Eric is dangerous. Even if he doesn't currently pose a major threat, I want him away from my brothers. Maybe this will achieve that.
"Any day now, Pedrad," Eric drawls lazily.
I start at him immediately, using my speed to my advantage. A roaring starts in my ears, the same way it does with every fight. It's as if every sound is intensified to the point where I here the silence that surrounds us. Feigning to the right, I aim a strong kick to his groin, but he instantly picks up on it, deflecting with ease. Before I can even register moving away his hand is around my ankle, tugging me forward so that I stumble. Releasing a cry I use his foul play to my advantage, upper-cutting to his chin while I use a burst of power to jab forward with the foot that is trapped by his hand. It works, if only for a second, and I am free, taking a few steps back and breathing heavily before I launch my next attack.
His stance is too strong to sweep his feet from underneath him, but I need to get him onto the floor. If only I could-
I don't have time to think as Eric starts his offence. Instead, as he goes to knock me off my feet with his, I jump, barrelling into him when his balance is at its worst. We tumble to the floor in a mess of limbs and bodies, but Eric moves so swiftly that, before I can gain the upper hand, his body is pressed into mine, his forearm against my windpipe like I had Uriah earlier, my arms pinned above my head by his other hand. I snarl at him, rage seething in my chest.
"Next time, Pedrad, I think it would be more interesting if you took off your shirt too," He murmurs in my ear. It's clear from this fight – that was really over before it even started – that he only came here to torment me. He wanted this to happen, to prove to the one person in Dauntless who wasn't scared of him that she should be. I struggle against him, feeling his grip on my wrists and trying to -
Oh.
My wrists.
Panic flares inside me, waves of it flooding the fire that had previously been roaring. What if he feels – what if he sees my scars?
Two of them, two thick ugly scars, one of each wrist. Four years old. Only my family and the leaders who were there at the time know. Eric can't know – nobody can know the shame I live with, why I was kicked out of my former faction. I try to breathe deeply, I've lost, he'll move and let me live out my shame, he won't see. He can't see.
The roaring has started again, the silence screaming at me to get out, get away, run. Nobody can know.
"Fuck you," I spit, jerking my knee from underneath him to hit him in the groin. He groans and rolls off me, and I'm immediately off the ground and sprinting past my brothers, who look as though they are ready to commit murder. I'm out the room in seconds, hands frantically pulling my long sleeves down further, further, as if they will eradicate what I did.
…
My bedroom isn't like most Dauntless rooms. While my brothers' rooms are simple and black, with minimal decoration or personalisation spare a few photos or posters, mine is full of as much colour as I can get. It's not the Dauntless way, it's certainly not the Abnegation way, but escaping from the darkness of the compound from time to time helps, I find. When my mind is at its darkest, I find being surrounded by colour often helps to clear my head.
But not now.
I pace, my footsteps thundering beside my bright blue bed sheets. I can't help but be shaken by what happened with Eric. My shame in being beaten is miniscule in comparison to the fear I felt when I realise he might have seen my scars – or even felt them, despite my long sleeves he could have still felt the thick, bumpy scars.
I sigh loudly, pushing through my bedroom door and into Zeke's. He hasn't returned home yet, neither him or Uri, but at the moment the quiet apartment is a bit of a comfort. I flop onto Zeke's bed, a safety net. I snuggle under the blankets, and within moments, my racing heart has calmed down and my head is starting to become clear again. Minutes later, I am asleep.