Four had taken Eric's advice and kept a constant eye on the goings and comings of Erudite. Unfortunately Jeanine was as intelligent and cunning as any leader of Erudite could ever hope to be; she had set up security posts of Dauntless soldiers who stood watch at various entrances and exits and her men who kept a wary eye.

He figured it wouldn't be easy to find out what they were up to, but he was used to working intelligence in Dauntless. This was right up his alley.


It was later in the day that Four himself in charge of the Fear Landscapes. It was a tedious job, mostly because everyone's fears he had seen before many, many times. They were always the same things. Normal things that shared some sort of component; it was either the unknown or the known. Fears like his: tight spaces, heights, even his father, he had seen before. They went in, they inevitably were crushed by the weight of their nightmares, and they somehow pulled themselves out. Sometimes they didn't. But he would guide them through it.

He would show them that they didn't have to stop being afraid of their fears to conquer them.

He knew that from experience.

The Initiate, Molly, entering the room had interrupted the silence, and with it his thoughts. Four prepared his short, fifteen second speech that he knew he would have to repeat over and over for the next few hours. The computer was already on the program so Four just initiated it and set the data to record. "I'm going to inject you with this serum. It activates the neurons in your brain that perceive fear; this will make you see what you fear, and project it onto the screen." Last week was the Dauntless borns' first few run-throughs and this week was the Transfers'.

He didn't tell the girl she would have to conquer her fear: do everything to avoid succumbing to it. He would watch to see how she handled it and note how long it took her to come out of it.

Impassive as ever, the initiate simply nodded, leaning her head slightly to the right, prompting Four to inject her. He did, and seconds later her eyes drifted closed like he knew they would. It took nearly a full minute later for the nanobots in the serum to project onto the computer screen and Four rubbed his chin idly as he took in the all too normal scenery.

It was a house: neat and orderly with a portrait that read 'Weigh all Words.' Molly looked at her hands, at her feet, and then all around her, yet maneuvered as if by instinct. This place was familiar, not foreign; she had obviously been here before, and if the portraits on the neat shelves were anything to go by, this had been her home before the Choosing Ceremony. Before Dauntless.

She walked down the hall and saw a reflection of herself perhaps a five or six years ago with another little girl at her side.

"Let's get rid of it," her younger self declared.

"Why? It's not hurting anyone." Molly cried deeply, a tremble starting in fingertips and moving up through her entire body. Her legs felt like lead; maybe heavier.

"Don't touch it!" she screamed as loud as she possibly could because it was all she could do. "No!" but her words held no effect. They failed to reach the innocent young girl who ignorantly reached out to grab it. Yet her hand never made contact. The spider jumped atop her hand instead and sunk its teeth into her arm. She cried out but it refused to let go. In a panic, Young Molly tried to dislodge it from her sister's arm with a slap, but it had latched onto her instead.

She screamed for help and wondered why it did not come in the form of her sister when a loud thump permeated throughout the house.

And her sister who had been right there was now on the floor, perfectly soundless.

As if she had simply fallen into a deep slumber. Like a fairy tale.

But fairy tales were lies. And Candor didn't lie.

The spider jumped off Young Molly's arm as she dropped to the floor beside her sister and for the first time since she had entered this hellish place, turned its full attention on her. Molly turned to run and ran with all she had.

Her legs still felt sluggish, and no matter how fast she commanded them to go, it wasn't fast enough. Just like in the running drills, she wasn't good enough. But this - this was worse.

It was as if she were moving in slow motion.

The spider jumped, latched onto her arm with its large body and too many legs, and bit into her flesh. She felt it as if it were real; it was real, and she could feel the venom crawl through her veins before devastating her nervous system in what had started out only as uncontrollable shaking.

She couldn't stop shaking. She was going to die.

Just like her sister.


Four shut down the simulation when Molly's body began to convulse. Her limbs and neck were flying all over the place when he had pushed the emergency button to call for help, his arms holding her as still as possible to avoid any injury.

In the few seconds it took for two Dauntless trainers to arrive, her jerky movements had shifted to a full body shake as cold sweat broke out across her forehead and her breath bordered on a dangerous hyperventilation.

Then the simulation faded and she woke up, her breath coming out in gasps, but even several minutes later found her still struggling to even her breathing and stand on her own. So the two Dauntless trainers put their arms under her armpits and carried her out, her feet mostly dragging across the slick floor as her eyes appeared glazed over.

"Jeez, what did they do to her?" Christina commented as she, along with everyone else, watched the usually unaffected girl be dragged away like a ragdoll, just barely able to keep her own head from lolling to one or the other side.

"Next!" they were moved along steadily per schedule like cattle, regardless of the fact that an Initiate had perhaps been psychologically done in.


Tris went in with more than a slight trepidation. She had seen what Molly had been reduced to and it genuinely scared her. The fear wasn't enough to back out now. Not after all she had been through. Not after leaving her mom and dad in Abnegation with the knowledge that faction came before blood, and therefore they would be forever separated. Because of her. Because of her decision.

Caleb had left too. But her mom hadn't looked at him with the silent prayer to stay, despite the words that she would be happy and accept her decision. She had accepted it and she hadn't guilt Tris into regretting her choice, but some part of Tris wished she was back in Abnegation with Caleb, and things went back to the way they had been when they were both still Dependants.

The first thing she saw when she entered were the too white walls that held a sterileness that made her think they were hiding something.

Next she took in the intimidating chair that she was likely to sit on and swallowed thickly. The fact that Four was in charge of whatever test this was seemed the only light at the end of the tunnel. He would look out for her, whatever happened. She knew she could trust him more than anyone else. Maybe even more than her friends, as hard as that truth was to acknowledge.

Four gestured for her to sit in the chair and tapped a prepared syringe a few times. "This serum will induce something like a dream and allow me to see everything you're seeing in your mind on this screen," he gestured to the computer with a flick of his wrist.

"Oh-wait. What? You- you can see...inside my mind?" Tris sputtered, her dace turning a rosy red.

"Yeah." Four said simply, as if he hadn't gotten the implications or hadn't cared.

It made her feel foolish to be making a deal out of something that had not even fazed Four. He hadn't even blinked. No nervous laughter. "Okay..." she finally said and winced and added a soft, "ow." after he had injected her. The pain only lasted a split second as she was pulled under a tidal wave of sudden sleepiness and awoke outside behind the wall she had never gone beyond.

Four made a small noise in his throat.

It had taken several minutes for the screen to show the scene of the land outside the wall, but instead of Amity in the distance, it was dry and arid. A culmination of fears took life: fear of water - drowning, fire - burning, not being able to run away and birds.

It was as if the serum were struggling to find a fear and thusly grabbed on to whatever it could. He recognized the birds that attacked her from the tattoo adorning her collar bone over her heart. Maybe she was afraid of them, he didn't know, but he doubted it from the way she hadn't anticipated the attack, or seized up.

She was looking around, confused, and then all at once, everything took flight one after the other. She stepped into thick mud, bypassed the fire, but flailed around helplessly when birds dove in to nip and attack her. She was running, and then something snared her leg, drawing her nearer to the fire she had avoided before and she panicked as the heat of the flamed nearly licked her palm. Her arms and legs were twined together with some sort of vine. And then jumped into the pool of water which turned out have endless depths.

Frantically she pulled at her bindings as her air ran low and then the simulation terminated.

Tris jerked up, gasping for precious oxygen as if she were still drowning. But something wasn't right. The screen had grown fuzzy and blurred toward the end. He hadn't even seen how jumping into a cesspool of water and swimming deeper had made any sense.

"Tris..." he started, "how long do you think you were in there?"

"Oh, uh, fifteen - twenty minutes," she said, breath still uneven.

"Five." He deadpanned. "You were in there five minutes." Tris seemed to gleam with pride until she looked at his face and saw his expression did not match. "No one's ever scored a time like that: not on their first try, anyway. Even the best of Dauntless."

Tris swallowed audibly and her eyes shot up in fear when Four asked her how she did it, because the screen hadn't shown up clearly at the end. She didn't know. She had merely dived into the water and swam down with the realization that she would be fine down there. Her mind had forgotten to perceive that she would drown. As if that fact were somehow negligible. "I...uh, you know," she made a few hand gestures and mumbled out the rest of what seemed about the most plausible excuse she could inherently think of at the moment. Of course she wasn't surprised that it didn't fool Four; that the look of trepidation on his face only increased. She tried to give h a smile but it came out half formed, her own brow marred by the look of fear brought on by her rapidly beating heart.

And then it came; that question that dredged up suspicion and reminded Tris of Tori's brother Gorgie. "What faction did you score on the test again?"

"Abnegation." she had to stick her lie. She was already knee deep in it.

Four looked at her disbelievingly but she didn't relent, simply asked to be dismissed with her eyes and reluctantly he granted approval by way of a nod. This wasn't how things were supposed to be. This was all wrong.

If Erudite came for him, guns raised, he would have given himself up in a heartbeat. He knew Eric too well. Eric wouldn't play the hero, but neither would he take it lying down. He would do something that would get himself killed, all because of Four. Or maybe Jeanine would have him implicated as a traitor to his faction for aiding a Divergent.

But how could he throw his life away, be content with being a martyr - with he knowledge that he could also be forfeiting another? Her's: Tris'.

He didn't want any more blood on his hands, especially not those of the innocent girl. Because she was pure and he was tainted, soiled. If she was a Divergent, him giving himself up will have sealed her fate as well. How could he live with that decision, with the weight of his actions weighing deeply on his conscience?

The Abnegation within himself wanted to do the impossible: wanted to save everyone. But that just wasn't feasible.


Eric impatiently drummed his fingers on the oak table as Jeanine explained to them, though it was more Max at this point, the various entryways she needed guarded and her plans of ripping faction leadership away from Abnegation. Eric himself had little interest in that; he would let others play politics.

"And this here will be injected into all Dauntless, save for you and Max of course." Jeanine made a small waving motion and a man dressed in a neatly pressed suit dragged a ragged looking girl out by her hair and another presented her with the loaded needle. The girl still had smudges of dirt here and there that indicated she was Factionless, but she was far more clean than most of them, like they had forced her into a bath not too long ago and haphazardly scrubbed her down. Her clothes were nondescript and she shivered and shook.

Jeanine didn't bat an eyelash though.

"This takes effect the fastest when injected here," she said, jabbing the needle into the girl's neck, "like any other injection." she added nonchalantly as she drove the plunger down. It took a few seconds but the girl who had began sobbing clammed up and stood up straight.

Another man walked in with a some sort of technological data pad, handing it to Jeanine. Making a few hand swipes across its glossy surface, she pointed at the girl. "I commanded she sit down," she revealed, and the girl did, staring almost sightlessly ahead. Eric was afraid for Four. If they injected him - which they would - would the effects be permanent?

Would the man who had driven forward all these years become a mindless drone at the beck and call of Erudite, with no sense of self? Not if he had any say. "And is this lasting?" he asked as casually as he could manage. "The effects," he iterated at her questioning gaze, steeling his own to match.

"Ah, yes. So long as the program, the simulation if you will, exists, so will it." With that she concluded the meeting, off to do whatever it was that she would. It made Eric's pulse pound. He wouldn't - couldn't let such a thing happen to Four.

Despite Four's weakness - his utter inability not to try and play the hero - he had encouraged Eric early on. When Eric had looked defeat in the eyes and succumbed, Four told him not to give up. That the act itself was far more cowardly than any kind of loss. Giving up when one could on was cowardly.


"Not a bad turnout this year, huh?" Eric had barely been paying attention, too focused on the hazel gaze of the First Jumper, whose eyes sought out Four's every so often while they were running drills. Tris no longer held her gun at an awkward angle, she ran far faster, and she hit the bullseye on the target each time. At this point, for her anyway, practical weapons training was ineffectual. She had pretty much mastered the basics of it all, and the real training wouldn't begin until they had at least weeded out the initiates who had no future in Dauntless.

He still owed her for her insolence. She thought wrong if she thought he would stand her making a fool of him and the lesson he had been trying to teach; Tris had no business interfering.

He would see if she could truly stand her own; not now, but in due time.

"I've seen better," he answered the other trainer and turned toward the Initiates. "We're switching to sparring." Many pairs of wide eyes looked to him to see who their matches were going to be. As much as he would have liked to see Tris get colored black and blue on that pretty little face of hers, he wasn't going to focus all of his attention on her. That would mean letting other Initiates coast along. Idly, he paired everyone up: Christina against Molly, since the two had never fought, and everyone else who was relatively equal in strength. He doubted Christina would do more than hold her own. Especially since Molly had seemed to hit harder nowadays, as if she were trying to rid herself of some unseen enemy.

Whatever fear the simulation had dredged up had changed her though. She hadn't shown any decrease on any of her training modules; she still had slightly above average targeting in shooting, passable throwing, and exceptional fighting. But she spent most of her free time - though it was not like they were given too much of it - on her bed, hardly socializing.

He could tell a broken sword when he saw one.

Molly wouldn't be able to conquer her fear. She wouldn't pass the final test because she had let her fears beat her.

Speaking of the girl, she was currently pummeling Christina, who had fallen to the mat and was now desperately holding her hands in front of her face in some sort of haphazard guard.

Last Jumper punched her again and she cried out, her back hitting the mat as the girl curled up in a semi-fetal position as she was kicked in her side. Still, like he expected of every Initiate, Molly hadn't stopped or eased up.

Christina leaned up on shaky arms, getting punched directly in the face once again but this time unable to block it. She tried to pull, scoot her weight away from the hard hitting blows that assaulted her, blood dripping steadily from her nose as she could taste the coppery tang of her own life essence in her mouth. Molly hit her again; the shoulder this time, and again: in her right bicep. She cried out a faint "no" that was too weak to be heard.

Molly punched her again in her face, this time with enough force to make her head whip around. "No. No!" she screamed and it drew the attention of the entire room. "No...no more." Molly looked like she was going to hit again, out of the instinct to keep going rather than malicious intent, but drew back her fist mid-swing, paused without lowering her guard, and looked up to Eric for direction. Eric stepped closer, feeling all eyes in the room on him.

Perfect.

He would make an example of Christina. Of cowards who simply lie down and quit. They didn't belong in Dauntless.

"Are you done?" he asked her, his voice calm and without judgment.

"Yes," she panted, struggling to get her breathing under control.

"Okay." Chance number one: gone. He would give her another chance, but there would be no third chances; he wasn't a firm believer of the third time being the charm. "Okay. Stop," he said to Molly, then to everyone else. "Let's all stop. Take a break." Tris looked over from her fight with Will that had stopped as soon as Christina had been downed. She swallowed thickly, having a bad feeling about the whole situation. The last time Eric had stopped right in the middle of training, she had ended up becoming a human dart board.

This felt like that time.

Only this time, Four wasn't here.

And she definitely had a bad feeling about this.


Tris stared warily at the hand on Christina's waist. It was odd: the sudden saccharine sweetness, the way he had asked her if she was alright.

They were hardly halfway across the chasm when Eric reversed the hold he had on Christina's waist, pushing her off. One loud scream escaped her mouth before she held her tongue in shock. "Hold on." Eric said simply, and after a few seconds passed, he added, "Or not." And with that he let go of her completely.

She cried out once more, out of fear, but managed to grab onto the ledge with both hands, her grip already shaking despite the fact that she had just began holding on. The ledge was wet, her arms were weak from her fight with Molly, and she could feel where it was a nasty bruise would soon form.

Add to that, her hands her sweating.

"Now hang there and I'll forgive your cowardice. Or let go." Letting go, without a doubt, meant dying. Eric didn't present the third option of becoming Factionless. Four wasn't here to press that leniency.

Tris took a step forward but the look Eric sent her had her stepping right back next to Will. She wouldn't put it past Eric to push them both over if she tried to interfere.

Christina felt her entire weight on her arms. It burned; it felt like an eternity.

Water dripped from some undefined place.

She tried hardening her stomach and bending her legs in an effort to reduce the heaviness of her own weight and the toll it was taking on her arms, but two of her fingers slipped. "Agh!" She wasn't going to make it. It was a very real reality. And they would all watch her fall - see her die - and it would mean nothing. No one would - could - interfere. Only Tris and Will seemed to truly care; for everyone else it was a show, a lesson, they were bearing witness to. She would be one less person on the board and one less competitor.

Another finger, this time on her other hand, slipped and it felt as if someone had attached a brick to her back. Her hands were now sweating profusely, her hold only retained by her white knuckled grip.

She felt a year streak down her face when another finger slipped and yet another drop of water assaulted her already precarious grip. That one tear was soon followed by two, and then her vision almost completely blurred with her silent sobs. Even though she had come to terms with her death in that small space of time, she was afraid. Not of dying - which surprised her - but of all the could-haves. All the regrets. She wasn't ready.

But if she had to die... It would be on her own terms. Not in front of all these people who would bear witness to her last struggle...until she completely lost her hold, her last scream and the solid, unmistakable sound of her body crashing into the chasm's depths. She wouldn't let her two closest friends see the desperation on her face at the end. She wouldn't give Eric the satisfaction of counting her end - she could see his lips moving to the seemingly endless passing of time.

As soon as she had gained the resolve she made to let go.

"Come on Chris!" Tris yelled, stopping her.

Her right hand slipped completely and suddenly all her weight was one hand.

Mere seconds passed.

"Time." He didn't say it especially loud, but his voice held its usual authority. He looked to Tris and Will, and instantly they took the cue, pulling Christina up. Her chest was heaving as Eric looked to each of the Initiates in turn. "Dauntless don't give up," he said with finality, looking to Christina who averted her eyes. And then he kept walking, and they followed. What else could they have done?


When Eric watched Christina suspended above the chasm by her own strength alone, he hadn't seen her. Sure, she was there. But it had been himself that he saw.

Back then they had been more rivals than physical lovers, but even so, Four had protected Eric.

The truth of the matter was that Four couldn't be there all of the time. They weren't joined at the hip, despite the frequent jokes otherwise.

It had been a relatively calm day, he remembered. Remember the feeling of the wind on his skin. Remembered the feeling of Four's lips on his: even their petty argument. Even clearer was the Initiate - a Dauntless born - that held nothing but unadulterated hate for him.

He had pushed him over and watched him hang over the side while he counted.

And once he'd breached five minutes, he laughed and told him to wait for a miracle. "You're weak. You disgust me. Dauntless wasn't made for people like you. Better hope Four comes to save you." Who knew how long he had been hanging there. An hour? Maybe two. But perfect timing as always, Four had happened to turn the corner and see him, then pulled him up.

He wanted Christina to think he would have let her fall to her death. He wanted to instill in her the fear that would keep her alive, one way or the other. If one was afraid, and gave in to that fear, on the war front that meant death: plain and simple. He had called time when he had seen the determination leave her eyes, but ignored her indiscretion because she had renewed her hope, even if it had taken the First Jumper's confidence.

Dauntless kept fighting, no matter what. There was no such thing as giving up.

"Hope you haven't traumatized them too much," Four said in his ear, startling Eric who had virtually attacked and pinned him down, "while I was gone," he groaned, feeling an ache in his lower back. "Sheesh, you're jumpier than usual." When Eric didn't say anything he added, "Mind letting me up?"

Instead of getting off of him, Eric sat back on his haunches and gazed at him lustfully.

It was true that Four was stressed. He had spent all day locked in a small room with a few other trainers who couldn't stand him, going over the guidelines for the Fear Landscapes, even though he knew it by heart. Then he proceeded to do a little snooping: see what Erudite was up today. They hadn't made any moves though, so hours had been spent pointlessly ducking and dodging corners. He couldn't explain why, he just wanted to be near Eric. Even if Eric happened to be in one of his moods; though he couldn't tell if that was the case, or if he had simply startled him - a stupid move on his part to begin with because he knew better.

Four put his hands tentatively on the other's waist, letting his finger press lightly before massaging the area with small, light touches.

"So what brings you to my room?" Four asked in a low, playful tone.

Eric. Hadn't really thought about where he was going. He just wanted to be somewhere that made him feel safe, and as if on autopilot, he ended up in Four's room. Four was a protector: his protector; he was something no one else could replicate. Just his touch inexplicably reminded Eric of an all encompassing warmth.

"Thought this was my room." Eric retorted, grin in place.

Before Four could say that his house was Eric's too - an I'll pronounced mi casa es tu casa - Eric leaned in for a kiss that started as nothing more than a simple peck on the lips, but as they were won't to, burned with a passion that could simply not leave it at that.

Four's arms were roaming up and down Eric's sides, stroking his thighs. Eric growled rutted down into Four in response.

Tomorrow they would continue the Initiates' training, but soon they would play their annual game, and the thought of it riled Eric up to no end. This year there would be four games, perhaps an intended irony, perhaps not, but either way it got Eric's blood pumping. He couldn't wait, divesting Four of his clothes before giving the same quick, rough treatment to his own.

Eric shoved Four up against the headboard and went down on him, pulling his dick into his mouth and relaxing his jaw enough to take most of Four without gagging. Four's eyes rolled back, tugging gently on Eric's hair to guide him, though he doubted he even needed the guidance. It was perfect: the heat and wetness of his mouth, the contestant pressure of his hands gripping his thighs. He felt like he was going to come already and tried to pull away but Eric held him there and continued his ministrations. "Ungh." He came with a loud groan in Eric's mouth, and the blond made an erotic show of swallowing, licking his lips and not letting a single drop escape. It had Four panting, chest rising and falling rapidly despite the fact that it was physically impossible for him to get hard again so quickly.

Four kissed Eric, tongue laving his despite having to taste himself. Eric deepened the kiss when Four attempted to pull away to reciprocate the blow job, instead pulling Four's hand down to his cock, and they continued to kiss while Four jerked him off.

And when Eric came he stayed atop Four and Four didn't say a word, wrapping his arms around the man that drove him forward, back around again, and crazy. He was crazy over Eric. Absolutely insanely in love.


They had settled into a comfortable position, Four splayed out over the bed and Eric beneath him.

It was so cozy in fact that they ended up oversleeping, Eric being the first to wake up, looking over to the digital clock on Four's bedside and shooting up with an "Oh crap!". He had shoved Four off in the process but a look at Eric's harried dressing clued him in enough to look at the clock and see that they were supposed to wake up the Initiates for their morning jog half an hour ago.

Four knew something was wrong when he ended up in a tight fitted tee and Eric in his sweater, but they didn't have time to switch now so they both hurried to the Initiates' sleeping quarters, not surprised that most of them were awake and dressed, whispering confusedly about why the Dauntless born trainer had already come to retrieve their Initiates and the Transfers were all still down there, looking at each other stupidly and whispering wild theories. Of course they quieted when they saw Eric and Four; more likely the former though, given the prior day's performance and Christina's near-death experience.

They set the group to doing drills, one third of the class doing laps, the other hand-to-hand combat, and the final doing strength training. Tris came up to Four and smiled brightly in greeting. She hadn't seen him all day yesterday, but it wasn't exactly going to be an easy talk. She wanted Four to do something about Eric. He had been out of control; he shouldn't have put Christina's life in danger. He had given her no options.

"Eric, he-"

Before she could get it out, Eric noticed the way her arm rested on Four's, how close she was. He went over and dared her to continue what she had been trying to say with his gaze. When she hesitated, he said, "Go on."

Instead she drew a deep breath and turned to address Eric instead. But halfway to saying something she lost her nerve, looked back at Four, and bowed her head, returning to drills.

Four didn't know what to do in the face of Eric's jealousy, especially because he seemed to now be the sole object of Eric's scorn now that Tris had fled. He didn't know what he had done wrong. But apparently he had screwed up again. "I need to know that I can trust you," Eric said plainly and Four's brows scrunched up in confusion.

"Have I given you a reason not to?"

"I don't know yet."

That hurt. Hurt like a dagger to the chest, over and over.


A/N: Sorry for taking so long to update; I promise the next chapter won't take a month. Also, thank you for all the kind words of support, follows, and favorites! I appreciate them all.