Author's Note: For the purposes of this fic, let's pretend that Tris did go to Erudite and saw Caleb but she got back before all the initiates finished going through Lauren's fears. Also, this chapter. OH this chapter. It was a bit like pulling teeth to write it. I had a solid plan, but the words just weren't coming and then I hated the plan and changed it around and I just…I hope it's not a complete disaster. I tried. Please be merciful in your reviews if it's complete garbage. Or don't, live your dreams.
Four collects the remaining initiates soon after, leading us across the Pit and up into the glass ceiling above. We emerge in a room painted wall to wall with graffiti where Lauren waits with some of the Dauntless born, frowning in confusion as we file inside. She must take note of the absent faces because she turns to Four inquisitively.
"I think you're missing a few initiates." He smirks, like there's anything funny about why we're missing so many transfer initiates, and shakes his head in the negative.
"No, they're all here." Lauren looks like she wants to press the issue, but decides to drop the subject for the time being.
"Right. Today we're going to teach you how to face your fears in a different kind of simulation. Your final test will happen in this room, but it won't look like this the next time you're up here. During stage two the computer took data on your fears and compiled them into a program unique to you. That program will present to you a series of challenges featuring your worst fears called your fear landscape. Some will be familiar to you, but others will be new. Unlike the sims you faced in stage two, you will be aware that your landscape isn't real."
Briefly I worry that I have lost my advantage now that everyone will be aware that they're in a sim, but I banish this thought as soon as it pops into my head. If I am truly Dauntless then it won't matter because I will make it in to Dauntless. No amount of advantages and privileges will be able to help me if I'm not supposed to be here.
"The number of fears you face will vary." Four carries on, looking as if he struggling to not let his gaze stray to Tris. If we were actual friends, I would tease him about his attempts to be blasé. "The average is between twelve and fifteen, but some of you will have far more or far less. Your rank will be heavily determined by your time in the fear landscape. I've told you before that the third stage is concerned with mental preparedness. This is because you will need to control both your body and your emotions in order to succeed. Mastery of these both will allow you to keep a level head and move quickly through your fears. You'll go through your landscape next week before the Dauntless leaders. They will evaluate your performance and factor our rankings into their final decision."
"To move past each fear you must do one of two things: calm your heart rate so the system perceives that you are not afraid, or face your fears and force the sim to move on. You've already seen a good chunk of your fears in stage two; study them and consider what it would take to beat them. We'll spend the next week running you through portions of your landscapes to practice. We expect you to use that time to develop a strategy that is both thoughtful and quick." Lauren opens her mouth to continue but Molly cuts her off, pouting like a toddler who hasn't gotten their way. The Dauntless born instructor looks affronted at the interruption, by a transfer no less, but Four looks simply amused by the offense.
"This doesn't sound fair. What if someone has like twenty fears but another person only has three?" I snort, considering that Molly had never considered what was fair when it didn't suit her. Four must have the same thought, as he is the first to respond, his expression icy as he gazes upon Peter's comrade.
"Fair hasn't really been an issue for you until now, Molly." He snarls and I can feel my lips twitch up in a smirk as she flushes. "Judging by the company you keep, I doubt it's even crossed your mind until it affected you." To her credit, Molly doesn't even flinch at the obvious insult. She stares back, defiant, even though it's plain to see that Four's implications are not lost on her.
"As I recall, I was asleep last night when Peter, Drew, and Al left the dormitory." Lauren raises a brow in surprise, intrigued to learn what she has missed, but remains silent and lets Four carry on.
"Were you aware of what your friends planned to do?"
"Not until after it was already done." She shoots Tris a look I struggle to interpret. It looks like a cross between an apology and a threat, but Four must see something redeeming in it because he drops the issue.
"The amount of fears you have is less important than you think. You can have only three fears and struggle to get past each one while someone with twenty fears breezes right past you. It's how you handle your fears that matters here, not how many."
"Four's right. At the end of my initiation I had nine fears, but I ranked higher than someone with only six." I consider this, wondering if it's possible that I've already seen all my fears in stage two. I doubt it, but stranger things have happened. "Which brings us to today. In my landscape I faced spiders, suffocation, walls closing in on me, getting thrown out of Dauntless, getting run over by a train, kidnapping by men without faces, uncontrollable bleeding, my father's death, and public humiliation. The computer will randomly select one of my fears for each of you to go through. Take this time to practice and get a feel for the landscape. Anything you learn today could be the difference between staying here or becoming factionless."
Lauren lines us up and sends us through the landscape one at a time, letting the computer assign us our fears at random before she sends us in. Since we aren't hooked up to the computer we can't see the fears, only our peers' reactions to them. Will goes first, brushing off invisible spiders before Uriah pushes back against invisible walls. I can't help the sadistic satisfaction I feel as Molly turns bright red facing some public humiliation.
When it's time for Tris to take her turn it isn't immediately clear to me what fear she is facing. She stands still, looking trepidatious yet resolute as she waits for the fear to reveal itself. It's only when I've begun to wonder if there's a glitch in the program that she begins to thrash about. She screams and cries into the void, begging and pleading with invisible attackers and their invisible restraints. We all seem to realize as one that the program has selected the one fear that has already been realized for Tris. I feel ill as I watch her struggle with her attackers, unable to get out of her own mind. She's trapped in this horrible loop of flashback and landscape with no way out.
"Turn it off!" I shout before my brain has even had the thought, glowering at our two instructors when they remain still. It would seem that their shock has stunned them into inaction, but this has gone on for long enough. "Turn it off, dammit!"
Lauren is the first to snap out of her trance, rushing over to the computer as Tris continues to steadily make her way into a full-fledged panic attack. Four doesn't move a muscle, watching the scene with an impassive expression that aggravates me to no end. It isn't until Tris falls still that his face shifts and he marches over to her with an infuriated look that spells trouble.
"Get up!" He shouts, startling us all. Four rarely shouts at us like this, but especially not at Tris. Gone is the image of the firm but fair instructor I had come to know. "That was pathetic! What the hell was that, initiate? You think that's how a real Dauntless would act?"
I'm relieved when Tris slaps him hard across the face, worried that I would have been the one to do it. She storms from the room, her whole body crackling with undiluted fury, as Four watches her go with a stunned expression that fails to mask the hurt in his eyes. I make a move to go after her but Uriah grabs my arm, holding me back. Not a word passes between us but I understand his belief that Tris needs space right now. I nod imperceptibly and stay put, scowling in Four's direction as Lauren calls me up for my turn.
A strange sense of relief washes over me when I find myself tied to the train tracks. I've already seen my father's death once before and I'm not eager to repeat the experience in front of so many people. I find the weak spots in the knots almost immediately and undo the ropes, rolling away from the path of the incoming train just in time. I drop from the tracks and plummet towards the earth as the lights come back on.
I'm surprised to find Eric standing amongst the initiates with a pleased sort of expression. I don't know exactly when he came in, but if the look he shoots me is enough I know he was here long enough to see me do well. We stand together in the back at a respectable distance, watching Christina clutch at invisible hands wrapped around her throat. He glances over to the other initiates to be sure no one pays us any mind, slipping a folded piece of paper into my hands.
Practice, 7:00, sim room.
I frown, not expecting him to begin my additional training quite so soon. I was released from the infirmary just this morning and I had hoped I would have an extra day or two to recover mentally. But, I suppose there is no time like the present—especially since I will face my landscape in a week. I nod, fake a smile, and watch as he grins at me before returning his attention to the other initiates.
His handwriting is neat, quite unlike my own messy scrawl. For the first time since I got here I wonder if this was not his faction of origin. Dauntless doesn't strike me as the sort of place that puts a high value on developing good handwriting. I'd think that would be more of an Erudite, or even a Candor sort of quality.
I observe him out of the corner of my eye, trying to imagine him in black and white. Eric has never been dishonest with me, to my knowledge, but I just don't picture him in Candor. I can't see him in Erudite either, truth be told, but with the enormous collection of books in his apartment I suppose it wouldn't be too much of a stretch. Regardless, no matter where he came from, I'm glad he ended up here.
Four stays silent for the rest of training. Lauren reminds us to be back at eight the next morning once everyone has taken a turn, shooting Four a look ordering him to stay put. We file out of the room after that, each of the transfers including Molly sending one last scathing look in Four's direction. We return to the dorms to find Tris curled up in bed facing away from us, her breathing too uneven to really be asleep but I decide to let her be for now.
"I can't believe Al would do that." Will whispers as the three of us pile onto his bed, the only one furthest from where Tris pretends to slumber. It strikes me then, glancing around the mostly empty dorm, how many people we've lost this initiation. We started off with ten, and now only five transfers remain. "I mean, I knew that he was struggling, but I never thought—"
"None of us did." I shake my head in an attempt to dispel these sad notions from my head. It's a bitter pill to swallow, learning that maybe you can't ever really know a person. Not completely. "He was never going to make it here, and he knew it."
"Al is weak." Christina shrugs like it's a given, but she looks tremendously sad as she says it out loud. "Peter saw that and knew he could use it to his advantage."
"Do you think he actually got Dauntless on his aptitude test?" I voice the thoughts that have been roaming my head for a while, needing to talk about them with people who understand and likely wondered the same. "He had his moments, but I always pictured him doing better in Amity."
"I know that his parents always admired the Dauntless. I guess he figured that if he wasn't Candor enough to stay then he should go somewhere his parents could be proud of."
"He made a mistake choosing Dauntless." It is a terrible thought, but it feels so good to hear someone else say it too. "Now he's going to pay for it."
The Pit is alive with the sounds of the warrior faction as I cross through on my way to the infirmary. I still have some time left until dinner and with the rest of my friends using this free time to nap, I figured now would be a good time to pay Doctor G a visit. Warmth blooms in my chest as a group of children run by with multicolored hair, shouting and laughing with one another. If their clothes were red or yellow instead of black I could be back home.
The good doctor had made me promise him that I would return before I began my extra training and it was a promise I intended to keep. I didn't want to risk having an actual heart attack this time, after all. I would be lying if I said there wasn't a small part of me hoping he'd forbid starting the training so soon.
I understood the reasons why Eric wanted to start my training so soon. The final test was only a week away and I needed to ensure that I was solid by the time I hit my final landscape. Even so, I was still hesitant. The prospect of reliving my father's death over and over until I didn't have a meltdown wasn't enticing. Despite this, I intended to show up at seven on the dot fully cleared and ready to work.
The same pink-haired nurse who kicked out Eric greets me with a wink when I enter the infirmary, telling me to take a seat. I sit beside a man with a miniature dagger stabbed through each nostril and a long beard dyed neon yellow. Though I've been in Dauntless for some time I still find myself taken aback at times by the wild appearance of its members. I wonder if that feeling will ever fade away.
If the man notices me watching him he doesn't draw attention to it, reading the latest issue of the paper with a frown. I roll my eyes when I spy yet another article condemning the Abnegation, but I cannot read its contents from here. I imagine it suggests that the members use all the food they hoard to perform demonic rituals. I'd think a faction that prides itself on being the most intelligent would make better use of their time than creating fictitious stories.
Doctor G comes to collect me soon after, not even needing to ask why I've returned so soon. I notice the ring of purple around his eye has faded a bit, but it is still apparent that he was recently clocked. He checks my vitals, listens to my heartbeat, and asks so many questions about my stress level that I can feel it rising with each additional question. He takes meticulous notes and I can see that his handwriting is next, just like Eric. I would never pry, but I wonder to myself if they transferred from the same faction.
"I heard there are more transfer initiates joining the factionless tonight." He tries to play casual, but I can sense an agenda within his words. "Were they friends of yours?"
"Just one," I hesitate, before deciding to just lay it all out, "but not anymore."
"Initiation can be a tremendously stressful time." He continues, a strange mix of pity and concern melding together in his eyes as they meet my own. "If you or your friends ever need anyone to talk to, my door is always open."
"Thank you, Doctor G, but that won't be necessary." I rebuff him, gentle but firm as I struggle to not project all of my anger and confusion onto him. "Those boys were cowards, stressed or not. None of them deserved to be here."
"Extreme stress when combined with extreme fear can make even the bravest man crumble." He counters, but I can tell he's not looking to pick a fight with me so I hold on to my emotions the best I can.
"Maybe he wasn't really that brave to begin with."
"Maybe." He concedes, but the pity never leaves his gaze. It is as if he thinks I am a child, naïve enough to believe that it's really that easy. Maybe I am, or maybe it is. "Even so, my offer still stands. I have seen too many promising initiates end up factionless, or worse. I'd rather not see you or any more of your friends among them."
"Thank you, I'll keep that in mind and let them know." He accepts this and drops the subject, taking the dismissal for what it is.
"Your lab work looks good, I have no reason for concern based on your physical examination, and you seem to be experiencing a normal amount of stress for a Dauntless initiate. I see no reason to forbid you from returning to your simulation this evening. Please say hello to Eric for me, and tell him my eye is healing quite nicely."
"I will, I promise. Sorry about him." I'm halfway to the door when I stop myself, turning back around as the words fly out of my mouth before I can consider them. "Do you…well, do you have any suggestions for how I can face this particular fear? I'm sure it's going to come up in my landscape, and I'm not sure if it will be better or worse knowing that it's not real."
"I haven't gone through my fear landscape in a very long time, but I do remember facing quite a few fears that were extremely difficult. I know this won't help you during the sim, but I found that finding a flaw in the landscape helped me snap out of it."
"A flaw? What do you mean?"
"Yes. There's always some sort of detail that just doesn't add up in the scene. For instance, my wife has a tattoo of the sun on her wrist. When she shows up in my landscape that tattoo is gone. If it ever starts to feel too real, I look for a flaw and I can usually snap myself out of it."
"Thank you, Doctor G."
"You're welcome, Indie. Just remember: there's always a flaw in the system."