Note: Moving forward...hopefully after this chapter, I will be able to conclude how they finally end up together.

Life in our city was never truly dangerous. There was the occasional confrontation with the Factionless or minor argument between Faction members, but in the last week things began to get alarming. It began with an 'accident' at Amity when one of the silos caught fire. Reportedly, someone was smoking their pipe too closely to the hay. Fortunately, it was empty and our city's grain stores were not affected. Then a few days later, on one of the hottest days of the year, we had an unscheduled city-wide power outage originating from Erudite headquarters. Most believed the heat played a significant role; but on further investigation, the grid room was broken into and wires were cut. Despite having a back up generator within the Dauntless compound, surveillance throughout the city was compromised. For security reasons, we sent out more patrols to monitor any unsanctioned and suspicious activity.

Earlier this morning, one of our patrol teams was sent to the weapons manufacturing facility. What seemed to be a routine scout turned into a war zone. Two large explosions detonated in the adjacent building. A few patrollers were too close to the explosion and were brought to the infirmary in critical condition. Fortunately, there were no casualties. The rest had minor injuries - cuts and scrapes, bruises, and mild smoke inhalation injury.

I'm treating my third patient when I see Eric walk in pressing a jacket against the left side of his abdomen. The bustle in the infirmary mutes at his entrance. It's striking to witness. Some are outright gawking at him. The rest are so filled with fear that they avert their eyes or stay out of his line of sight. Completely unfazed by the attention, he walks straight into a treatment room, shutting the door without acknowledging anyone. The moment the door closes, the silent tension clears and activity immediately returns to normal.

I find it a bit odd that he's here. He's never here; not to escort someone who was hurt or to get himself treated. I've seen him once sitting in the gym stitching his own arm. But this is different. He seems off. His forehead is covered in sweat and there's a slight wince each time he takes a step with his left foot. Throughout my almost five months here, I've never seen him wear a jacket not even when it's cold. He's always in t-shirts or a vest. Maybe I'm overthinking it or spending way too much time watching him. I return to my own patients. If he needed help, he'd ask for it.

My patient is feeling much better after the second respiratory treatment and I discharge him from the infirmary. I look back to the treatment room to see it's still closed. It strangely worries me that he hasn't emerged. No one has bothered to check on Eric since he's arrived. I scoff to myself that they're probably all too afraid of him.

Against my better judgement, I take a deep breath and head over to the room. I knock but there's no answer. Carefully, I turn the handle, surprised he left the door unlocked. He's standing over the sink with his back towards me. The creak of the door alerts him to my presence and he whips his head around ready to hurl insults.

"Get the fu-." His words flounder when he sees me, however my attention is on the blood soaked gauze littering the table.

"Oh my gosh."

I close the door and quickly take over.

Without words, I take the gauze out of his hands and push him towards the gurney to lay down. I'm pulling off his vest when I catch him smirking at me.

In response, I roll my eyes and give him a look that says, "Really?"

I put my hand on his shoulder, pushing him to lean back. He acquiesces without protest and watches me clean out his wound. It's a large gash across his lower abdomen and it's still oozing blood. Holding pressure, I look up to see him gazing intently at me. I don't know what he's thinking but it's making me feel very self-conscious.

To break the awkwardness I ask, "How did you do this?"

"Glass."

My eyebrows furrow. "How?" I urge him to elaborate.

"I was too close to the window when the explosion went off."

"Did you get cut anywhere else?"

"A few scrapes on my legs." He gestures to his thighs

I place his hand over his wound to keep pressure and immediately I move to remove his shoes and start pulling at his belt when he starts chortling loudly.

"What is so funny?"

"If you want me to strip for you, all you have to do is ask." I glare at him. I am not amused.

"I'm just doing my job. Don't laugh, you're straining your ab muscles."

"Okay. Okay. My legs are fine. I promise."

I shake my head and bring my attention back to his abdomen. I yank the gauze from under his hand a little too roughly, but thankfully the bleeding has stopped. It's still a large laceration and it needs stitches.

Grabbing a set of sutures, a syringe, and lidocaine from the cupboard, I deviously consider not using anesthetic. "You know, I'd be careful with what you say to me. I do have a needle in my hand."

He genuinely laughs at my attempt to threaten him. And once again, I admonish him for stressing his wound.

When I'm done stitching him up and covering it with a bandage, I instruct him not to get it wet and to watch for any signs of infection. "Stop by in a week for a wound check. The sutures can probably come out then." I do my best to look him in the eye. I can still feel his stare on my back when I turn to the counter to clean up the mess he made earlier. I hear him putting on his vest and shoes, and I assume he's going to leave but instead, I feel the warmth of his large chest pressing against my back. He snakes his arms past my waist and grips the edge of their counter, trapping me. I can feel his nose brush against my ear inhaling me in. He moves his lips against the back of my neck trailing a path of light pecks to my shoulder. I'm visibly shaking from the intimacy and at a loss for words.

His lips part and close against the angle of my neck like he's about to say something but isn't sure how to say it. I'd like to think he's just nervous but something tells me he's purposefully letting me squirm. My heart is beating so loudly that I'm sure he's able to hear it.

Whatever he planned on saying was disrupted by the loud banging on the door.

"Eric, are you okay in there?" The frustration of being interrupted is etched on his face. He huffs indignantly and pushes himself away from me. Flinging the door open, my medic preceptor, Emily, is looking at him with a sweet yet desperate smile. She looks hopeful that he notices her, yet he walks right past as if she isn't there. Her smile falters when she finally sees me in the room watching her one sided exchange. Tilting her head, she appraises my flushed appearance.

"Kaia mentioned I needed to watch you closely."

"Who?"

"Don't play dumb. She told me she caught you fucking a loser in the kitchen."

My eyes widen at the blatant lie.

"Now you're screwing around during an emergency?" She pauses a moment and then continues, "Next Saturday. You're off, right?" I slowly nod once. "Good, then you can work an extra shift and make up for the time you've wasted."

I finally find my voice when she turns to leave. "I wasn't messing around...he had an injury."

She gives me a cold stare and dares me to continue. "I'm being very generous. If you don't, I will report you for insubordination and skirting your duties." It's hopeless to try and win this battle. There are no witnesses and Eric isn't about to come to my defense.

Saturday arrives sooner than I expect - my 8th consecutive day working. I'm exhausted but there's still so much to be done. One of our critical patients died two days ago but the other is stable. His recovery however will be a long one. After a morning full of follow ups, I hurry to finish my progress reports. Max wanted a written update on his desk before noon. I come across Eric's file on the computer and realize I haven't seen him all week. He's due for a wound check today. I consider going by his office after work but think better of it. He's a grown man...a leader. He can probably check his own wound and take out his own stitches.

When I complete the reports, I print out a summary and head in the direction of the leader's corridor. As I approach, the sound of muffled voices - a man and woman become louder and clearer.

"What the fuck are you doing?!"

"I'm trying to help you!"

"Get the fuck out."

"Oww!"

I'm ten feet from the first office when a half dressed brunette is pushed out the door. Eric nearly slams the door shut when our eyes meet and he holds it open with his foot. The girl notices his distraction and suddenly trains her eyes on me. The recognition makes me nauseous. I really don't want to deal with her today. She's already coerced me into an extra shift. I continue walking, arcing around her when Eric calls out, "You're late. I've been waiting. Where are the progress reports?"

I fully stop to look at him leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed. I'm a bit confused but I play along. "Here, I'm sorry sir."

"Give it here, Now!"

I nod and glance at Emily. She sneers at me triumphantly thinking I'm going to be punished. "You, leave!" Eric calls out towards Emily. She storms past me, purposely slamming her shoulder into mine. I'm sure if Eric wasn't watching, she'd do must worse.

When she's completely out of earshot, Eric's tone and posture softens slightly, "Max isn't here. He's at a meeting. You can leave the progress reports with me."

"Okay, thanks." I hand him the print outs relieved that he's not really angry with me. Instead of taking the papers out of my hand, he grips my forearm. He always has a tendency to grab me when I least expect it.

"While you're here, take my stitches out."

Shaking my head and hoping he'll let me go, "I don't have the equipment or dressings with me."

"I do. Come inside." It irks me that he's always commanding, never asking. Reluctantly, I'm pulled into his office.

His office is immaculate. Everything is neat and in its place. The only thing left astray is the file open on his desk and the laptop next to it. It's the first room I've seen in Dauntless with a window and furniture that does not look weathered. I guess this is the perk of being a leader.

He gestures for me to follow him to the couch. He pulls off his t-shirt without warning and even though I've seen him shirtless a handful of times, it still embarrasses me into a full out blush. Growing up in a Faction where the most skin exposed is your ankles, wrists and neck, this is difficult for me on so many levels. He hands me the suture removal kit and lies down on the couch.

I leave the papers on his desk before making my way to sit on the edge of the couch. Pulling on the gloves, I wonder, "Why didn't you let Emily take it out earlier?"

"I don't trust anyone except Derek and now you."

I think back to a week ago. Derek is one the most competent doctors here at Dauntless. He received most of his training from Erudite.

"He was really busy last week with Ryan and Mazer."

"I know. I was trying to take care of it myself until I realized it was deep."

"Are you sure you trust me?"

"I let you stitch me up didn't I?"

Pressing my luck, I try to be honest with him. "Only cause everyone else was too frightened to check on you."

He scoffs but doesn't argue with me. He knows it's true.

After removing the stitches and covering it with a bandage, I move to get up from his couch. He reaches out to my waist with his large hands and holds me in place. Using me as leverage, he sits up, with our faces inches apart. Immediately my heart starts to race and I can feel my palms start to sweat. I'm not sure if I want this or not but its hard to look away. His eyes dart to my lips and I can feel the the inches disappearing between us. In a nervous gesture, I ball my hand into a fist and the crunch of the plastic wrapping cuts the quietness in the room. Involuntarily I look at my hand, breaking the moment.

"I have to get back or else Emily will probably make me work another extra shift. At the mention of Emily's name his grip tightens. "What do you mean?""

"It's nothing." I realize too late at my choice of words. I really don't want to explain why I'm working an extra shift.

Adjusting his position so he's sitting next to me instead of facing me, he sighs into his hands.

"You were supposed to be off today. She was supposed to bring the status reports. She made you take her shift. Why?"

"It's nothing, really."

"I'll call her back here and ask her myself."

"No!"

"Then just tell me."

"She accused me of insubordination and skirting my duties." It's not a lie but it isn't the the truth either.

"Right...why don't you tell me the real reason?"

Something tells me he already suspects and he just wants me to say it.

"She said I was messing around while I was supposed to be working."

He cocks his eye at my explanation. "Messing around? Are those her words or yours?"

"Mine...sir."

I hope he'll drop it. I don't see how this will help anyone.

"Give me word for word."

"She accused us...I mean me of screwing around during an emergency. She didn't believe that you were injured."

"Is that right?" His voice turns low and cold. I glance to see his eyes are still fixed on me.

"Yet she came here trying to check my injuries among other things." There's a darkness that shadows his face and I can see the wheels in his mind turning. He suddenly cups my jawline in a rough manner, lifting my face to his.

"Don't worry about the bitch. We'll figure it out."

"We?" I can't help but pick at the word.

"Yes, WE. She'll wish she never even looked at you."

I'm not sure what he intends to do, but I think the less I know the better.

Note: just wanted to add an additional few lines that is OOC even for my Eric/Jo. But I think he's just teasing and it does turn him on.

Finally letting me leave, he calls out when I'm halfway out the door. "I really like it when you call me Sir."

Apparently my confusion is so amusing that he full out laughs at me. Except laughing so hard causes him to double over in pain, holding his left side.

"I told you not to strain...that includes laughing."

Karma's a bitch.