A/N: Just a little idea I got while trying to come up with a full-fledged story for Eris. Been wanting to write something for these two for a while, so I hope you like. I don't know about you guys, but the second I saw movie-Eric, I was way over movie-Four XD

Disclaimer: I do not own Divergent.

Tris squinted slightly in the darkness, trying to get her bearings.

She couldn't sleep, not since her fear landscape, and after having awoken for the third time that night, she decided to go for a walk. Try and clear her head. And somewhere through her sleep-deprived daze and autopilot feet, she ended up in the training room. She wasn't sure how she'd found herself there - after all, it was quite a ways away from their sleeping quarters, and there were far more interesting places in Dauntless to be, like the chasm - but she supposed it was all the same at night; dark, damp, and empty.

She walked further into the training room, looking around.

It wasn't really all that different. The people were gone and the lack of noise from bodies hitting mats and punching bags being hit left a deafening silence in her ears, but the general tone of doom and gloom was still the same. You weren't welcome here, and this place would eat you alive.

There were two dim lightbulbs hanging from the ceiling, providing just enough light to illuminate either side of the large room. It was almost like a stage, with two circles of light covering the floor. She'd noticed that just about everything in Dauntless was crude in its design, made from the ground up by hardworking hands and never upgraded to the point that the regular person couldn't fix it themselves, and any high-tech equipment was shipped in straight from Erudite. It reminded her of the prison camps she'd read about, back before the war. She wondered if that was where they got their inspiration for its construction.

She stepped into the light at the left side of the room, standing in the middle of it and staring up at the lightbulb. Sunspots formed in her vision as she stared, but she didn't mind; there was a certain peace to be found in the light, however dim. It beat suffering through another vivid nightmare.

When she thought about it, she probably shouldn't be there. The training room was strictly off limits to initiates, especially non-Dauntless initiates, without a leader present. But it wasn't as though she was there in broad daylight - this was three am, not three pm - otherwise she was sure she'd get in trouble if she were caught.

"Tris?"

She jerked towards the sound, unable to see beyond the light she was engulfed in, dark blue hues playing behind her vision. Whoever said it was male, but beyond that she didn't have a clue as to who it was.

"...Who's there?"

She stood still, apprehensive at the thought of being caught. Or worse, reprimanded. She'd worked hard to get where she was, and she'd really rather not end up factionless.

The owner of the voice faded into view, light spilling over their head and shoulders as they stepped into her small haven. Tris' eyes widened as she caught sight of the piercings on their brow and gridded tattoos on their neck. Of all the Dauntless leaders there were, she couldn't think of a worse one to have stumbled upon her at this hour.

"E- Eric."

She hated that she'd stuttered, but it couldn't be helped. Eric had always intimidated her. In her defense, however, she was caught off guard; she had thought maybe it had been Four who had seen her, as he always called her by the name she'd given herself. Eric had always referred to her as 'Stiff'.

"That's right," Eric said, eyes squinted. "And might I ask what you're doing here?"

The way he spoke to her - spoke to everyone - had always made her feel inadequate. Like whatever she did wasn't being done right, or shouldn't have been done at all. He was the scary father figure and she, the child. This was proving yet again to be another one of those situations.

"I...I could ask the same about you." She countered uneasily. She wasn't sure why she felt so brave, she clearly wasn't thinking straight. Must have been the lack of sleep. "What brings you here so late? All the rest of Dauntless is sleeping."

"Well, maybe I wanted to find out what a certain little Stiff was doing out so late at night." He replied testily. He clamped his hands together in front of him and stood with his legs slightly apart, as though at attention. "And by herself, nonetheless."

He tilted his head as he said that last part, and the corner of his mouth quirked up in the most unsettling of ways. Tris tensed; if she wasn't fully awake before, she was now. Normally, she wouldn't think anything of the comments Eric made - they were mean and hurtful and there was nothing about them to be read into - but the way he'd said it and the tone he'd said it with, not to mention the offset look in his eyes and strange posture, made her wary. It raised a hundred red flags in her brain. She wasn't sure why, but she knew she had to stay alert.

Eric took an imposing step forward, and her muscles coiled up like springs, not wanting to retreat but also ready for anything. He continued coming towards her and she waited until he was less than a foot away to take a step back, stopping herself from backing down any more than she already had. She couldn't let Eric know she was absolutely terrified of him.

He didn't come any further, just stood there, towering over her as he looked her up and down. She tried not to bristle.

"So scrawny," he remarked, as though speaking only to himself. "And yet you've managed to make it from thirty-two to nineteen in less than ten weeks. Over a ten place difference. Mind telling me how that's possible?"

Tris gauged him. She couldn't pinpoint it, but there was something in the tone of his voice that she didn't like, the way he was saying the things he said. Surely he had a purpose, a reason for following her. But what was he trying to gain?

"What do you mean?" She asked carefully, twisting her body a little bit to angle away from him.

She never liked being in his presence, and now, being the closest she'd ever been to him, it was getting to be too much.

Whatever attempt at a smile he'd been playing at disappeared, and he sneered as he raised a hand to point an accusing finger. "I think you know what I mean, Stiff."

His boots sent echoes through the room as he stepped towards her, and now Tris was afraid. She stepped backwards out of the light, panic rising in her when the faster she moved, the faster he seemed to chase after her. Her vision was all but useless in the dark, and her arms splayed behind her back as she tried to figure out where she was in the room. Her hands found purchase against one of the pillars, the metal cold beneath her touch, and she stumbled slightly from the shock of its temperature.

Unfortunately, that was all the opening Eric needed; he took advantage of her stupor and closed the gap between them, and she cringed as the fingers of his right hand slid past her neck and curled around her throat, pinning her against the pillar. His touch was surprisingly warm, but that didn't make her feel any less uncomfortable. He squeezed.

"I think you've been doing a little extracurricular activities to get your grades up."

His voice was low and calm, but to Tris, it felt like a snarl. He was closer, much closer than he should be, and she felt like she was drowning in him. He could easily kill her here and now and no one would know.

His breath beat against her hair as he spoke down to her, a few strands blowing into her face and causing her to close her eyes. "I've seen you and Four. You've practically got him wrapped around your stiff little finger."

He applied more pressure to her neck and she gasped, her hands instinctively going to his arm. Her skin on his felt like ice on coals, and she surmised that Dauntless leaders must have had better amenities in their quarters than initiates. Like heat.

"So why don't you just admit now that you've been doing little 'favors' for one of your instructors and I won't boot you from Dauntless immediately, hmm?"

Tris struggled for air, lifting her chin to try and alleviate the pressure from his hand. "I didn't...do anything...except train."

"Really?" He asked, sounding amused as he pulled back to look at her, smiling. "Then how do you explain these?"

He brushed aside some of her hair, and she could feel the calluses of his fingertips, so unlike Four's. His hand grazed downward to her collarbone, slipping beneath the strap of her tank top to reveal a faint bruise.

"Last I checked, you can't get those from training," he said smugly, and her face flushed with embarrassment.

She looked away, tears coming to her eyes. This wasn't who she was, she didn't 'do favors' for people in order to get ahead. It was disgusting and on top of that, it just wasn't right. But given her current situation, she doubted she could convince Eric that the remnants of Four's affection meant anything other than what he was suggesting.

"You know, I honestly don't know what he sees in you." He went on to say, looking her over. "There are tons of Dauntless girls that would do much better by him, in more ways than one."

She focused on steadying her breathing, attempting to shut him out. Unfortunately it didn't work, and a second later her eyes were bursting open as she felt the warm skin of Eric's nose connect with the side of her neck. Goosebumps raced up her arms and back as her skin contracted, and her breath hitched as she began to fully process what was happening. She felt his eyelids close through her hair as he exhaled, fanning warmth all over her skin.

She felt his thumb glide across her throat to join the rest of his fingers on the left side of her neck, and she let herself relax a little. At least now he wasn't going to choke her, but she realized she might also have a potentially bigger problem on her hands. He grazed along her neck, almost nuzzling it with his nose, and she could feel his steady, dare she say calm breathing as his chest rose and fell against hers. She stood completely still as he moved, unsure of what to do. She had been training, yes (relentlessly) but in her position it would hardly hold a candle to a full-fledged Dauntless leader. She was definitely at the disadvantage here.

Eric's other hand came up to rest on her hip, and her fingernails unconsciously dug into the skin of his arm. He stepped closer, pressing their bodies together as he continued his way down the side of her neck, stopping at the mark on her collarbone. He leaned in and lightly kissed it, and Tris was completely frozen, unable to move an inch due to her shock. He kept his lips pressed there into her skin, waiting a moment before pulling back to kiss her neck.

She let out a shuddering breath, fear and tension gripping her heart as she attempted to keep it from beating out of her chest. He pulled away and placed a higher kiss behind her ear, at the point where her head and neck connected, and she stiffened as a wave of tingles rolled down her spine. She counted down the seconds until it passed.

Eric paused, noting her reaction, and panic made her freeze: she'd been so sure she hadn't given anything away. All she wanted was for him to leave her alone. Why did her body have to betray her? Hot breath fanned against her neck before lips where placed against the spot behind her ear again, and this time she couldn't help as she visibly shivered.

A long, drawn out pause came afterward, a deafening silence before either of them moved, breathed. And then in one sweeping motion she was being pressed even further into the pillar and his mouth was on her neck.

"Ah!"

Tris panicked, pushing against him with all her might, trying to get a foothold somewhere. Fear drove her as she pushed, shoved, kicked and wriggled, trying to squirm out of his grip. Eric only pushed back that much harder, though, and every effort she made to get him off her, he matched with his own to keep her near.

She eventually tired and gave up, breathing heavily from exhaustion as she slumped between the hard metal of the pillar and the unforgiving wall that was Eric's body. She suffered for what felt like an eternity, trying her best not to react under his touch. Four. She was with Four. Four was nicer and sweeter and cared about her. Eric couldn't care less.

He pulled away once he was done, brushing his thumb against her jawline as he lightly kissed her neck a few more times. Once she had enough breathing room, she shoved him back, her diminished strength only getting him about a foot away. He chuckled at her efforts.

"I hope that's not how you plan to win your final test."

She merely glared at him, pursing her lips and flaring her nostrils in anger.

Eric smirked, stepping back and wiping his mouth. "You know, maybe I was wrong. I do see what he sees in you now. Just a shame I didn't see it first."

He dropped his gaze to her neck, jerking his head in the direction of the fresh bruise he'd put there. "Have fun explaining that to your boyfriend in the morning."

She clutched at her neck, at the mark he'd made, and watched with burning hatred as he turned and walked away, waving a hand back to her.

"See you, Stiff."

He left and Tris slumped against the pillar, waiting four, five, six minutes before going back to her quarters. She slipped beneath the covers of her bed and laid her head against the pillow, so angry and scared of what Four would think that she hardly cared what her dreams entailed.

Sleep eventually overtook her, but instead of nightmares, she dreamt that she punched Eric right in his pierced face.