Tris let out an animalistic growl as she opened her eyes. The blinding white light forced them shut again and she realized several things at once.

She had lost to Edward.

Her head hurt worse than she had ever experienced.

And she was in the infirmary.

Suddenly, she was seething. She wasn't mad at Eric or Four, she wasn't even upset with Edward. She was angry with herself.

She hadn't been near good enough to win. Her opponent had thrown her around the mats like she was nothing. How could she have beaten someone who towered over her, who was more than twice her weight?

With as small grunt, Tris raised her arm and gently laid it across her eyelids. The cool skin of her forearm felt nice against the swelling if she didn't push too hard.

"You're up. "

She knew his voice, didn't have to look to see her visitor.

She could still see the image in her mind, one of his back as he walked away and left her bleeding on the floor in front of jeering initiates.

"And your voice is the first I get to hear. Lucky me," she mumbled, loud enough for him to hear.

"Tris-"

"I'd like to rest now. Please leave, Four."

She heard light shuffling that she attributed to his departure and groaned inwardly.

It wasn't Four's fault, she knew that. She hated so much that she put herself into this position. Everyone must believe their suspicions to be true. At the moment she felt like everyone was right. Here she was after her first fight, bruised and lying like a Stiff on a board.

Four... he had given her hope, but he was wrong.

Her friends earnestly assured her that she would make it through training, but she didn't believe them. They didn't even believe it themselves. Tris had thought Four was different than the rest with that no nonsense stare and the way he touched her abdomen in training, showing her where to draw her strength from. Then again when he stopped her on the way to the mats with something that might have been concern in his voice. She believed him when he said that she could win.

Strike fast. Watch for his tell. You can do this.

It hadn't been enough, not nearly enough, but Tris could not hold Four responsible for her humiliating defeat. Perhaps everyone was right about her.

Tris heard the sound of heavy boots on the floor and sat up in sudden anger and frustration.

"Four, I said-" She trailed off, wincing against the light, but able to see clearly enough to tell that her visitor was not Four. Despite the pain, she held her body tense, unsure as to why Eric would be in the infirmary.

"Brought you an icepack, " he said cheerfully, holding it up to show her.

"Why?" She eyed it with suspicion.

He didn't answer her at first, but held down one of the buttons on the hospital bed, raising the incline to a near sitting position.

"So that I could have the pleasure of informing you, Stiff, that you are now placed dead last." He took her shoulder in his free hand and pushed her roughly back into the mattress.

Tris bit her cheeks to steel herself against the pain, and forcing herself not to react. He was baiting her, something she noticed he did to the initiates quite a lot.

It was hard to meet his gaze without feeling the urge to snap at him. Tris found it nearly unbearable and she allowed her eyes to move downcast

and away from his, only doing what she had been taught to do for her whole life.

Startled, the girl pulled away from the sudden sensation of the ice pack against her cheek.

Eric pushed her back with only a little less force than he used the first time.

She sighed quietly and closed her eyes for a moment as he as applied the ice pack to her skin once again. He was pushing too hard, making her bruises throb uncomfortably, but she would not show him her weakness, as she suspected he was acting purposefully.

"You'd better get real good, real quick, Stiff."