*waves at all the lovelies leaving their lovely reviews and following and favoriting me and the story* Thank you all so much! I'm so happy you're liking my story and getting as much of a kick out of my version of Eric as I am! It really is a blast to write and I'm really digging dissecting Eric as a character. There isn't much to go on so giving him background is proving quite fantastic. And diving more and more into this plot of mine is proving rather labyrinthine. I keep uncovering something I didn't know was there, but hey! I'll take it! Give you a whole ton of layers in my little tale. :)

xXx

I force myself to watch once of my girls get brutally beaten by a far larger, far stronger, Candor initiate. Christina's so small, and she's worked so hard, but she's no match for the girl she's up against. Nearly six inches taller, a good thirty pounds heavier. Christina didn't stand a chance.

I want to run into the ring and slam the larger girl into the ground. The one who's hovered toward the top of the rankings since the beginning. She's such a perfect Dauntless. Doesn't think. Just acts. Just does with precise and steadfast brutality. Out of the corner of my eye I see Eric smile, only briefly, before he stops the fight.

Immediately the little hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. He who said everyone fights until they can't fight anymore. He who wants people unconscious is allowing a give and giving Christina a pass? I don't buy this for a second.

The hardest thing for me to do is to let things play out as they should. To not step in and stop a situation from getting so much worse. When Eric calls training for the day all shoulders in the room relax except mine. I clench my jaw and swallow hard and walk myself over to the weights. My day isn't done. I need to burn off some steam.

I can feel Eric's eyes on me, boring into my back. I peel off the shirt I'm wearing, stripping down to my sports bra and leggings. It's easier to lift without so much fabric clinging to me. I know he watches as I grab a bar and load it up. His stare is distinct. It prickles my skin like no other. When I turn around, fastening a support to the bar, I quickly look up and catch him in the act. He holds my gaze for a second too long, taps the knife he's holding against his hands, and then sheaths it in the holster on his leg before walking away.

The initiates mumble to themselves as they clean up and get dressed before heading out. The trainers, Eric included, mix themselves in with the crowd as everyone leaves. All except Four, who makes his way over to me as I clean more weight than I probably should. I have trouble jerking the bar over my head, but I manage to get under it, get it up, before dumping it at my feet. I'm drenched and I grab my shirt crumpled at my feet to wipe the sweat from my face.

"Training today wasn't enough for you?" he asks as I unload some weight and refasten.

"I didn't burn anything off and I wasn't here early enough to get it in before we started."

Never mind my run. That only added to my stress.

Four looks back over his shoulder and watches the last few straggling initiates as they walk through the door.

"None of them look nervous," he says, almost whispers. I know exactly what he means. "Day's over."

I squat a few times, my eyes on the door, where they shouldn't be, instead of focusing in front of me, instead of me paying attention to the enormous weight on my back.

A scream tears through my clanging weights, my labored breathing, my grunts, and I bail the bar off my back and fall out of my squat. Four's feet tap against the mats as he shuffles over to the rolling bar and taps a foot to it to keep it still. I grab at my shirt again and press it to my face. I press it so hard into my eyes I see spots in the darkness while that scream echoes in my ears.

"A day's work is never over," I mutter as I look up to see a water bottle in my face.

Four looks down at me, stares at me. It's not the same look Eric gives me. He doesn't have that same penetrating gaze. Four's is different. Like he can see what I'm keeping back. Like he empathizes with it. But he says nothing when I take the water and he walks away.

#

I pass Eric in the Pit on my way back to my apartment and he grabs my arm to stop me. Nothing sudden or strong, but more than fingers gently brushing my sleeve. I feel him clench around my arm, enough to get my attention and to let me know I have nothing to worry about. Except I have everything to worry about.

His eyes catch mine and I stare him down. All sounds fades out around me and all I hear is that scream. What I found out was that it was Christina's scream as he dangled her over the chasm. Punished her for giving in. They've been around long enough now. They all should have known better. Christina should have known better. At least that's what I tell myself every time her scream echoes in my head.

But the look he gives me belies nothing about what he did. It's not even a thought in his mind. Just something that happened at initiate training. Hardly worth his time. His gaze softens and when he gives me a little smile the corners of his eyes crinkle just a little, as if right now all he sees is me. As if I'm causing that smile.

Except I'm still an initiate myself and that smile could mean so many things. His tongue flicks out and he wets his lips and my core melts a little. Until Christina's scream echoes again in my head. From the second I saw him I knew Eric would be my downfall, except now I no longer think it'll be for the same reasons.

"You should come with us tonight," he says as he slides his fingers from my arm. My flesh immediately goes cold and I want him to touch me again. The memory of Christina's scream isn't as loud this time around.

I have to remind myself the war I fight is so much larger than a single person. If I cave now, if I go to the defense of a single person, thousands more will fall. All the Divergents, all the Factionless, everything I've worked years for will be destroyed. Is one person worth that? I try to tell myself no, but it's hard convincing.

"I should, huh? Should I bring a parachute or maybe some boxing gloves? How about a taser?" My own smile creeps onto my face, but my voice still has a sardonic edge to it. I can't help it. One can only be jumped so many times before they develop a twitch.

He smirks and I swear he's staring at my lips. "Don't be so paranoid. All you'll need is you. Maybe a heavier jacket. It's been getting cold at night."

Don't I know it. Aside from my run early this morning I've been waking up to frost on my windows. And wherever I've been invited to, it'll be outside. Great. I have to remember to pack gloves.

"And if I don't want to?" I ask, just to play devil's advocate. I'll more than likely go. So far Eric hasn't been wrong. They haven't actually tried to kill me. Maim and bruise, sure. But not kill.

He shrugs, the smile sliding from his face. "Then don't." He turns to walk away but his voice floats back over to me. "If you do meet us down here at eight."

I watch him walk away, hands in his pockets, his shoulders squared, his back ramrod straight. He walks with an easy confidence, an authoritative air that forces people out of his way without him even saying anything. Crowds shift around him without even acknowledging him. His presence requires space and people around him instinctively know that.

It's six now. I have some time. So I stop by mess and grab a plateful of food to go and bring it back to my apartment. I walk in to a dome of darkness. Stars twinkle on the other side of the glass and I stand and marvel at their brilliance for a moment before flicking on the light and flooding my world with brightness.

I inhale my food, starved after such a workout. At least Dauntless knows how to feed working soldiers. It'd be kind of dumb of them if they didn't. My plate of protein and carbs fills me up quickly and I run a shower, eager to wash the day away.

As I stand under the shower head, steaming water running down my sore body, I can't help but wonder what I'm doing. Is this all worth it? What am I getting into? Is there more than meets the eye? I came into Dauntless with one goal and all the answers I needed. Now I have a pile of goals and more questions than I can count.

Eric and Max. They would know about the Factionless raids. They're too high up not to. They must know about the faction deaths too. Their own people. No way can they not.

I was alone in Erudite. For all my training for all those years I never had direct exposure to any of this. I had tunnel vision. One mission: destroy Jeanine's Divergent holocaust. Destroy her control, Erudite, the factions. Bring it all down on its head.

Now they're killing Factionless children. Dauntless members are dying at record numbers. Initiates are being damn near tortured. What have I missed? This feels like more than just overtaking Abnegation and destroying nonconformists. I need more information.

Eric is the key.

What did they used to call spies who had sex with their targets? Honey pots? But they remained detached. Distanced. Lived only for the job. Easy when you don't know the target. When you didn't grow up with them. I can hide my emotions well, but I'm not a sociopath. I can't turn my feelings off, and I don't know if I can do that to Eric without ruining myself in the process. Even despite . . . Hell, I'd be kidding myself if I didn't realize what he's capable of. He nearly killed a girl today and thought nothing of it.

What else does he think nothing of? He thinks the world of Jeanine and her plan. But is that it? Does Eric feel? I refuse to believe he doesn't. I just don't know the extent.

Little by little. I'm a warrior. I can blend in just fine right now. All I have to do is not announce my plans to the world. I'm not a spy. I can't just fuck Eric for information. Besides, he's far to smart for that and I'm not nearly skilled enough to pull it off.

What I can do is let him in. Stop holding back. Let what will be, be despite it all. It wouldn't behoove me to keep him at arms length. I'm just afraid if I let him too far in, I won't be able to get him out again.

I step out of the shower, dry my hair, and dress warm. I'm going out tonight.