I'm thinking about doing a prequel that takes place during Eric's transfer year. Yay or nay?

Breaking The Habit

Chapter Seven: Eyes Open

Eric

When we jump out of the train, it is onto crumbling concrete mixed with dry grass. Lack of Instigate and its effects on my body have caught me off guard, and I land unbalanced, skimming my arms, knees, side across the graying blacktop. Fresh blood and gravel replace the filth I washed off earlier, and even in dim light it looks startlingly dark against my death-pale skin.

Peter looks around uncertainly, taking in our surroundings. (It's fun to watch him flounder—I knew putting him in charge would be a good idea.) All things considered, we lucked out on location: almost directly to our right, maybe a quarter of a mile away, is the park at the end of Navy Pier. It is mostly open greenspace now, good for seeing our attackers, but there is also a thin line of trees in which the flag could be easily concealed. He catches my eye, and I jerk my head toward it, unable to resist helping him out at least a little. Now no one can say I didn't do anything. For a second, I think he doesn't understand, but he turns to the others and says "Let's head to the park. We can hide the flag in the trees." Without looking back he starts walking, and we fall into step behind him.

"Are you sure letting him lead is a good idea?" a quiet amused voice asks next to me. I turn and falling into step next to me is Asher Thomas, my oldest and closest friend among—and before—the Dauntless, the only Erudite to transfer with me. "If you're really that desperate, you shouldn't be letting a first-timer lead, let alone a transfer." She grins, bumping me with her shoulder, and I feel myself starting to relax. She knows about the Instigate, of course she does (she knows everything about me in a way that an outsider would probably find slightly disturbing), but she's the only person that I know isn't going to hound me about it. Does she wish I would stop? Almost definitely. Will she try to make me? No.

"Well, the way I see it, if I lose, the deal is off. He wins. But if Peter loses…" I grin, the movement pulling at the six piercings on and below my lower lip. "The deal is null and void."

"Clever." She elbows me again. "I don't think Four will see it the same way, though. He still blames it for…everything that happened." She means Christian. I have to take a moment to remember that the loss was sudden and upsetting for all of us, and that she wasn't mine alone. Saddened into silence, we look away from each other, and I blink rapidly against the burn of tears.

We reach the park after a few minutes of silence and I take the flag out of my pocket, unfolding it as I speak. "I," I say, holding it up, and pointing at myself for emphasis, "will put this in the trees. The rest of you…figure out some sort of plan. The decision on whether to go offensive or defensive or both is up to you. And remember, Peter is in charge." I smirk at him before beginning to scale a tree. The rough bark scrapes the sensitive skin in the middle of my palms, and I force myself to ignore how when I'm at ground level every pain is amplified. The flag gets draped over a lower branch, where someone tall could reach it, but I keep climbing until the branches start to crack under my weight. There are faction symbols carved into the trunk behind where my back will rest. Two—the tree for Amity, the eye for Erudite.

"Do you miss them?" she asks, digging the knife further into the rough wood. I watch in silence for a moment, awed at her skill with a knife, even though it's barely been three days since we transferred. What could they possibly be teaching them in Amity?

"I don't think so," I respond carefully. Dark hair falls over my eyes, and I brush it away, momentarily distracted by its new color. Hers is still sun-streaked and tied in a knot at the nape of her neck. "Not my family, anyway. I never really had one to begin with. But…it was more peaceful there than it is here."

"Peace is overrated." Satisfied with her tree-on-a-tree, she moves on to the unmarked section of bark beneath it. I realize a second too late that I made a mistake in saying that. There was a reason, after all, that she transferred from Amity, the faction where peace reigns above all else. "And we're never going to fully achieve it." She rocks back to examine her work and almost slips off the branch. I grab her around the waist, helping her regain her balance, and suddenly I notice how close we are, only inches apart. Her breath is hot on my mouth and her eyes have flecks of gold in them I couldn't see before. I don't have time to speak before she closes that distance, and our lips meet.

The shouting of my team below jerks me violently from the flashback. I have to blink for a moment before I remember where I am, what's going on, who's here and who is not. "There they are! Can't you see it moving?" I push myself to stand precariously on the branch, only my toes touching the bark through my boots, and am greeted with the top of the Ferris Wheel, spinning slowly.

"Yes," I whisper triumphantly, and descend the tree until my feet hit the ground and I'm met by the arguing of my team.

"It could be a trap."

"Who cares? I say we all go."

"They turned it on to lure us away." Asher pushes her bleached-platinum-blonde hair out of her face, frustrated. She's probably a better tactical thinker than almost everyone here and I can tell it's getting on her nerves, how no one else understands. "It's what you would do, isn't it? We're staying here."

Peter glares at her, momentarily forgetting that even though she is a member, I technically put him in charge. Not that it means anything when Asher puts her mind to something. She'll always get her way. "Fine. We stay here."

"It's an easier way to win, anyway," Asher mutters. "Protect our flag and pick them off when they come for it. That's what we did when I was an initiate." Neither of us think it's a good idea to mention that when we were initiates, our team lost. Badly.

I return to my perch, this time in a tree some distance from the flag and a bit closer to the ground. The bickering continues in hushed voices, even though the final decision has already been made. I can hear Peter and Asher going at it, their volume increasing to the point of whisper-shouting. If I were myself I would berate them for being so serious, but they're not as bad at strategy as I am at keeping my life together. I need this win, even my scattered brain knows it. But Four and his team will not go easy on us…

Suddenly the park is alive with shouts and the shooting of paintball guns. I jerk back to reality, cursing my withdrawal for taking me out of reality for such long periods of time. Safely concealed in the tree, I peer through the leaves to see my team and Four's fighting each other desperately. There are—fittingly—only four of them, so this will not last long, though I am prepared to wait all night.

Gripping my gun in one hand, I start to climb down, only to hear shouts of victory…from his team. Not mine. It was over almost before I even realized it started. Panicked, I look around until I spot a thin, bruised, all-too-familiar hand raising our flag in the air.

Next to me, Asher stands spattered with paint, a look of disbelief written plainly on her face. Why she thought that strategy would work, I don't know. It was always doomed to fail a second time. She looks up at me, and her expression changes to one of worry. "Will you be okay?"

I blink rapidly until I am fully back in reality. The drugs. She's talking about the drugs. Four may have won this game, but I am a Dauntless leader. He has to give it to me, I realize. I don't know why I didn't fucking think of it before. I can make him. I am in charge.

"Of course," I reply, a slow smile spreading across my face. "I'll be fine."