Hello, you fabulous people, it's that time of day again, another update from The Dauntless. I hope you are all having a truly awesome day wherever you are in the world.

As usually, welcome to new readers, thanks to all for the favorites, follows, and alerts, you guys never cease to amaze me, seriously.

Thanks to the guests that review, your thoughts amaze me.

And straight on to Chapter Ten...enjoy!

Chapter Ten

The next day was very much the same as the day before: Four being pummeled by Zeke or Uriah while Caleb and Tris stood by and watched.

Four had asked Tris one evening while she was giving him a glorious back massage to ease his muscles after a day of fighting, why beating him to a pulp was part of Dauntless training?

Tris thought for a second before giving her answer. "To be able to control the things we are able to, you have to find your trigger. To find that. you have to be open to the possibilities that anything is possible."

"And I have to be near death to find that out?" he asked, his voice muffled slightly by the soft mattress of the bed.

"No, not near death, but….." she searched for the right words. "Compliant, I guess."

"I don't need the crap beating out of me to be obedient."

Tris smirked from her position astride Four's butt, then she leaned forward to place a gentle kiss between his shoulder blades. "That's good to know, Four."

Four shivered at the feel of her lips on his slick skin. "Sorry, Blondie, I ache too much for any fun tonight, so get back to work."

"Whatever you say," Tris grinned as she returned to a sitting position and got back to working on his shoulders.

She felt his muscles relax again under the pads of her fingers. "Can I ask you something?" she inquired cautiously.

Four swallowed nervously as best he could in his position, knowing what she was gonna ask and surprised it had taken her this long to bring it up. He nodded.

"Why 'Four'?"

"I had just started college and needed some extra cash. The research department needed subjects to undergo some sort of experiment, so I volunteered." He groaned as she hit a particular sore knot of muscles in his neck, pausing in his explanation while she worked that area.

He felt her lean away from him and turned his head to watch her pour more oil onto her hands before she returned to his back, this time her agile hands worked the muscles at his spine.

"They were testing this serum that they injected into you which caused simulations of your fears," he continued eventually. "They hook you up to a computer and they can see what's in your mind."

"Was a Professor David in charge?" Tris asked, her voice low and soothing.

"Yeah. How'd you know?"

"David used to work for Dauntless. That serum is something he developed for us. It's one of the components to our training. To face your fears."

"Huh," Four grunted out. "I guess I was part of Dauntless before I even knew about it."

Tris was silent again for a moment, thinking about what he had said. "Four," she said eventually. "Four fears?"

"Four then," he answered. "I guess we'll see if it still Four now."

"So why be called Four, why not your name?" she probed, her hand gliding easily over his back, the massage forgotten.

"My name represented something I wanted to forget," he said shakily. "A buddy of mine was a test subject with me and when he heard I only had four fears, he decided that would be my new name."

The room was filled with silent again, her gentle hands moving gracefully over the vast tattoo on his back.

"Four's a pretty impressive low number of fears," she offered. "Most here had fifteen to twenty."

"What's your number?"

She rolled off his back and onto her side beside him, smiling at his face scrunched against the comforter. "Six."

"Pretty impressive," he repeated.

"It was," she agreed. "Until now." She smirked at him. "You're gonna steal my legendary status."

"I don't know," he smiled back, wanting to move but his body still unwilling to move. "Maybe my fears have changed. I may have to change my name to two-hundred and fifty."

"Afraid of everything," she said. "Somehow I don't see that happening." She rolled off the bed and moved toward the bathroom.

"Where you going," Four mumbled, almost asleep.

"To run you a bath," she answered as she disappeared into the room.

"I could get used to this," he said to himself, his eyelids drifting together.

…

It was on the fourth day when Tris began to see a difference in the way Four anticipated Uriah's actions, as well as making an impact with his own hits. She could almost feel the change in the air, the way it moved with him with ease. She had a feeling he didn't realize what he was doing, that the instinct was taking over, and he was flowing with it.

He was holding his own against Uriah now, even beating the younger man down to the mat twice. She could see the euphoria running through him, knew he was understanding the power he had but still needed to learn even the smallest amongst them could be the most powerful.

"Stop," she called out, causing all the males in the room to stop and turn to her.

She grinned at them; Zeke, Uriah, Caleb, and Four, all out on the blue mats in front of her, Max standing beside her.

"Drop and give me 50," she called out sternly, and smirked when Zeke and Uriah were instantly on the floor and starting their press-ups. Caleb whined. "Come on, Tris. Stop with this controlling shit."

"Caleb," she warned.

"Fuck," he mumbled and he too fell to the ground and started on his press-ups.

She raised an eyebrow to Four, who had yet to move. "Is that how it is here," he asked. "You call out instructions and everyone complies."

"In here, yes," she replied. "You have to be able to take orders in a split instant. You know this, you're a cop.

"Yeah, but…"

"Four," she warned, her look hard.

Four stood his ground for a second or two more, their gaze almost battling, before he followed the guys beside him.

"And because you questioned me, you can give me a hundred," she added, grinning at him.

…

On the fifth day, Tris informed Four that they would be working on a different aspect of his training, and she led him to a building near the garage. She stopped briefly at the door to punch a security code in the keypad set back in the wall.

"When do I get all the security codes?" Four asked.

"When you have passed training," was her short reply.

"Do you think I won't pass?" he questioned her.

"Not in the least," she replied with a smile.

When they entered, Four was greeted with rows upon rows of weapons against two walls of the building. Beretta's, Glock's, Smith & Wesson's and Walther's lined one wall, all encased in what seemed like specially made displayed cabinets, without the glass and all held up on hooks. Another wall held an array of rifles: Winchesters, Barrett M82s, and shotguns: Mossberg 500s and Benelli M4s. Along the bottom of all the rows of guns were box upon box of ammunition. Behind a wall of bulletproof glass and taking up three-quarters of the length of the long room were four firing lanes, partitioned at the shooting tables with blue screens. Not quite the same style of practice range he was familiar with but similar enough. Small ventilation outlets topped the far wall to control exposure to airborne lead and the ever-standard torso targets hung at the end of each firing lane. The only obscure thing that Four could see were four butcher hooks that hung from the ceiling, one in each lane, about halfway down.

"Each agent has their own guns, but they are stored here," she said, indicating behind him to another room adjacent to the main room. Four walked over to peer in and found an area of built-in gun storage systems, numbering 20 in all. Each door had a label attached, much like a locker, and squinting slightly, he could make out names.

"No weapons are allowed in the main house. You can pick which ones you want and Dauntless will provide whatever you ask for. You are expected to keep your own guns clean and in pristine working condition."

She watched as Four turned and walked back to her, making sure he was taking in what she was saying.

"During your time training you will make one bullet. What you do with that bullet is up to you."

"I don't know how to make a bullet," Four interrupted.

"That's why it's called training, Four."

"Do you still have the bullet you made?"

Tris bit her lip before turning away from him, and he almost missed the slight nod she made.

"Are you saving it for anyone in particular?"

"Yes," she said steadily.

"Can I ask who?"

"The bastard who killed my parents."

Four walked over to her, his hand reaching for her, hating to see the obvious pain in her eyes. "Do you want to tell me about it?"

"This isn't the time or the place, Four," she whispered but let herself be drawn into his embrace.

Tris was always reluctant to talk about her parents and their untimely death. In fact, the only person she did talk to about that time was Jack, their psychiatrist, and even that was under duress. The horrors that had befallen her that week hadn't just almost killed her; they had nearly broken her, as well. She may have come to terms with what had happened, but she still found it hard to talk about, even after eight years.

The moment was interrupted by the door opening, and Zeke entered the room. He noticed how close Four and Tris were standing and smirked at them. "Am I interrupting something?"

"Nothing that can't be continued later," Tris answered, quickly covering her discomfort with a small smile. "Zeke is our gun expert," she told Four.

Zeke gave Four a sly smile. "Pick your weapon."

Four walked over to the wall and felt he had entered a gun shop downtown with a free pass to anything he wanted. He walked over to one gun, a Beretta, and lifting it, he felt the weight in his hand and smiled. His fingers caressed the barrel lovingly, but he replaced the weapon in its spot on the wall and reached for another.

Whilst Four was picking out a weapon, Zeke walked through to the smaller room and opened his storage locker, pulling out his favorite Beretta.

Fifteen minutes later and Four held his fourth glock. He tipped the gun to the side and then the other, felt the weight as he had with the previous seven guns, and then held it up, arms outstretched and squinted down the line of fire. He brought it back, and his hand danced over the smooth metal.

"For Christ's sake, Four," Zeke cried exasperated. "You're gonna shoot with it, not make love with it."

Zeke turned to Tris where she was perched on a table, filing a nail. "Is he always this attentive?"

"Always," she confirmed with a smirk.

Four was finally satisfied with the glock in his hand and he turned to Tris, returning her smile.

"Come on then, hotshot, let's see if you shoot as good as you fight," Zeke said, handing Four a box of ammunition and ear protectors, before leading the way through the door within the bulletproof glass.

Four was mildly pleased with Zeke's words. No one had offered him many words of encouragement with his fighting skills and it was nice to know that someone thought he was doing something right.

They each took up position within the shooting booths, Tris remaining behind the glass, and Four loaded the weapon before placing the ear protectors over his ears.

He was dimly aware of Zeke's weapon discharging and watched the target in the distance but could barely make out the impacts.

When Zeke had finished, he pressed the button on the side of the blue screen, and his target moved forward on the ceiling track.

Four was impressed as the sheet came into focus, with bullet holes splattered across the heart and through the head.

Four lifted his own weapon and fired his rounds down the lane. When he was through, he brought his own sheet forward, to show equally outstanding marks, proving he had hit his target.

Following Zeke's movement, he removed his ear protectors.

"Impressive," Zeke conceded and Four nodded his thanks, to which Zeke only smirked.

"Tris," Zeke called and Four turned to see that Tris had taken up position in the booth to his right.

She braced herself in an easy stance, lifted her arms, the small PPK sitting naturally in her hand, and, almost casually, shot off nine rounds.

Four watched as her target sheet was brought forward. She had fired off the full clip of her small gun, but only two holes appeared in the paper. One directly where the heart would be, the other in the middle of the forehead.

Four looked disbelieving between the two of them as Tris smirked at him and Zeke laughed.

"Where did the other bullets go?" he found himself asking.

"They all went through the same holes," Zeke answered.

"That's impossible," Four commented, looking fascinatingly at Tris. Even though he had come to the understanding that she could do remarkable things, to see the proof was amazing.

"There is no such word in my vocabulary," Tris scoffed as she picked up Four's chosen gun and reloaded it. She handed it back, butt first, and indicated with her eyes for him to repeat his shooting.

Four turned back to face the target at the end of the range as Tris stood closer to him.

"Concentrate on the air around the bullet," she instructed. "Fire one bullet."

Four did as she asked and hit his target perfectly.

"Now, aim for exactly the same position. Watch the cartridge; visualize it moving through the same hole. Don't try to move the bullet, shift the air around it." And she rose on her tip-toes so she could follow his line of sight. "Fire another round."

Four fired again, the shot ringing through the air as the round struck the paper half an inch too far to the side of his first mark, widening the hole.

He shook his head, disappointed with himself.

"Don't try too hard," Tris said gently. "Relax, let it happen. Try again."

After three more reloads of his gun, Four's target sheet showed an enlarged hole roughly where the heart would be, indicating that Four may not have passed the bullet easily through the same gap but had at least managed to push the cartridge in the right direction. He still didn't have the finesse Tris possessed, her bullet easily sailing through one opening, but he had made some progress.

Caleb had entered the building while they were shooting, pushing a large, covered, stainless steel trolley in front of him, and he smirked when he saw Four struggling to control the air.

Once there was a lull in the firing, he walked through the door separating the shooting range from the weapon store.

"Are we ready up the ante?" he questioned with a smile.

"I don't think he's quite there yet," Zeke replied.

"What?" Four asked, looking between the two of them.

"Ignore them, Four," Tris huffed, annoyed that her brother had appeared. She was sure he was here just to try and intimidate Four, gloating over the fact the new guy hadn't tapped into his Divergent abilities.

"I just thought he might like to know what he's working toward," Caleb answered with an innocent look.

Four's head swiveled between the three of them. "What am I working up to?"

Tris sighed and waved her arm to Caleb, telling him without words to do what he had obviously come here to do.

Caleb beamed as he moved back into the outer room and pushed the trolley through into the firing range. He removed the white sheet that had been hiding the contents, revealing a huge slab of meat. In fact, when Four looked closer, it looked like a side of pork: a whole side of pork, maybe three feet in length.

Zeke moved over to the firing lanes as Caleb picked up the meat and carried it over to Zeke and between the two of them, they attached it to the hook in the lane that Four was using.

They moved back to Four and Tris. "Tris, do you want to do the honors," Caleb asked her with a smile.

Tris exhaled loudly, letting him know without words that she was pissed at him right now, but she moved forward and took up her position to shoot down the lane.

"The bullet can't go through the meat" Four said with astonishment to Zeke. Zeke shook his head. "Just watch."

Four watched with fascination as Tris brought her gun from behind her back, aimed, and fired one shot. He expected a spattering of pork meat, but it never happened.

Tris tipped her head in the direction of the carcass. "Go take a look."

Four cautiously walked down the lane until he stood in front of the meat. Not a mark was on it. He looked back to the three behind him, his face quizzical, then he caught Tris's gaze, and she gestured again with her head, further down the lane.

Four stood to the side of the pig remains and inhaled sharply when he saw a perfect hole in the target sheet, straight through the heart.

"Holy fuck!" were the only words he could think off.

He moved further down the lane until he was in front of the paper, his hand lifting and his finger poking through the hole, directly over the heart target.

He returned to the others, his face a picture of wonder.

"That's how you did it in the alley. You hardly looked at those two you shot."

She simply nodded.

"How?"

"How what?"

"How do you do it?"

"You feel. Feel the air around the bullet and then nudge the air to make the bullet go where you want it to," she explained.

Caleb smirked at Four. "Wanna give it a try?"

Every shot Four fired hit the meat. Tris tried to explain to him how to move the air, but she knew it was impossible to comprehend. It had been the same for her when she had gone through her training.

Tris had been the youngest person the Dauntless had ever accepted into its ranks, beginning her training at 19 instead of the usual 22. The agents were recruited from all over the country, and most of the current agents had been at least 22 years old before they had begun, some just having graduated college, while others, like Zeke, came from various professions. Zeke had been in the Army when he had been spotted by their recruiter.

Tris remembered her training vividly. It had been brutal and soul-searching. She had so many issues to overcome and was quite unwilling to take orders. The only thing that had spurred her on was her internal mantra – Revenge.

Four needed to find his trigger, the one thing that would open his mind to the possibilities and abilities he possessed.

She moved over to him again and whispered to him, "Let your instincts guide you."

Four turned to her, taking in her words, and then tried again, his bullet hit the meat in the same place again.

"Maybe we should just pack it up for the day?" Zeke stated.

Four's answer was to reload his gun and aim again. Once again he hit the pork!

Tris moved without thinking, coming to stand in front of the carcass facing Four before she realized what she was doing.

"Try again," she said evenly.

"Move out the way," Four replied.

She shook her head. "Shoot the target."

"You're crazy!"

"Tris," Caleb cried out, stepping forward slightly. "What the fuck are you playing at? Move out of the way."

Tris looked straight at Four, her eyes boring into his. "I trust you," she said gently, almost lovingly. "Shoot the target."

"Fuck. No, Tris, get out the way," Four hissed back, his arms still posed to shoot.

"Shoot the target, Four," she repeated, louder and a little harsher.

"Tris, get out of the way," Caleb yelled to her.

"Come on, Tris," Zeke added his voice to the noise. "This isn't funny."

"Come on, Four," Tris teased. "Uriah can do this. Don't let him get one up on you. Your abilities are bound to be better."

"Move. Out. Of. The. Way." Four ground out.

"No," she smirked back.

"Tris, move," Zeke tried.

Four's mind became scrambled as he listened to Tris, Caleb, and Zeke arguing the absurdity of her actions and placing herself willingly in harm's way. The noise level rose and, peripherally, Four saw Caleb move, and without thinking, he pulled the trigger.

Tris held her breath, her eyes still holding his, and she consciously held herself back from changing the air herself. She had faith in Four and his ability, and if not, if he didn't learn how to control the air that very moment, well, judging from the object hurtling toward her, death might be a blessing. Either way she was thankful of the time she had spent with Four.

He watched as the bullet sped toward Tris as if in slow motion. He could see it spinning in the air, deadly and accurate.

He saw the trust in her eyes, and his instinct took over. He visualized the air around the bullet, pushing it on one side, and he saw the cartridge move slightly. So he pushed again, harder, and then harder still. It moved, whizzing past Tris's head, close enough to make wisps of her hair billow as it sailed passed and hit the wall to the side of the paper target.

"Okay," Caleb said, nodding his arm out and patting Four on his shoulder. "Didn't hit the target, but at least you didn't kill the girl you're sleeping with."

"That's always a bonus," Zeke added.

Tris hadn't moved, but she smiled to Four.

Four released the clip in his gun, placed them both on the table behind the booth, took one more look at Tris and then walked out.

"Four," Tris called, moving quickly to follow him.

He didn't answer her, just continued out of the building.

Tris pushed Caleb as she passed him. "You're such a dick, Caleb. Why did you have to bring in the carcass?"

"I'm the dick?" Caleb cried disbelieving. "You're the one who stood in front of it and yelled at him to shoot you."

"Because you were making him feel inferior," she yelled back.

"Who says he isn't inferior," Caleb retorted.

"Jealousy doesn't suit you, Caleb," Tris quipped, narrowing her eyes at him and she turned to go find Four.

…

Four paced by the edge of the lake, unbelieving of what had just happened. Granted, he had moved the bullet, but if he hadn't, if he couldn't, Tris would have died.

But she didn't force him to pull the trigger, he had done that.

And she had faith in him. She knew he could do it. That's why she put herself in danger.

He didn't hear her approach and jumped slightly when she rested her hand on his back.

"Four," she whispered.

"I could have killed you," he said simply.

"No, Four. If the bullet had hit me, I would be in a unit now. There was no real danger for me. I'm not a fool, you know."

He turned to face her, his eyes steady as he looked at her. "I could have killed you."

Tris saw the obvious pain in his eyes and she whispered. "I'm sorry."

Four reached for her and pulled her into his embrace, practically crushing her face against his chest.

Tris wound her arms around his waist and held on as he gripped her tightly.

"Don't do that again," he said against her hair.

She mutely shook her head in answer.

"You give the best hugs," she mumbled against his chest and the vibration of his low laugh made her smile.

"Not this again?" Four grumbled, referring to their conversation almost a week ago, when she had said his hugs where almost like a teddy bear.

"Yeah, you're a mean, bad tempered bear with the ability to give awesome, comforting hugs," she grinned.

Four simply huffed at her.

After a minute or two she pulled away and looked up at him. "Are we okay?"

Four moved his arm and cupped her head lightly in his hand, the pad of his thumb sweeping over her cheek. He closed the distance between them and lightly pressed his lips to hers.

He didn't deepen the kiss, just continued with tender, sweet passes of his lips which were driving her crazy. He was in control again and Tris fought with her inner demons as she pushed back against him, taking back that control as she held his head in her hands and took the kiss to where she wanted it go, thrusting her tongue into his mouth and hearing him groan in appreciation.

…