Chapter 25 – The Scars We Carry

Hey guys! So for this chapter I felt so bad for making you wait so long so instead of waiting until it was "done" to post it, I'm giving you guys half of it and the other half should be posted in the upcoming few days as I figured out how I want to move forward. Ashe's last few fights are almost here and so is War Games (next few chapters) so things will start speeding up towards Ashe's fear landscapes! What do you think will appear in her landscape? Leave your thoughts in a review! I would love to hear it and compare it to what I have planned! Thank you all so much for your support and your lovely reviews and follows and for favoring this story! It means the world to me! PLEASE REVIEW, FOLLOW and FAVORITE!

My Thanks: XWarrior, thank you for your support and your constant effort to give me your feedback always! For the tension between Ashley and Tiffany, it's kind of the manifestation of Tiffany's hate for reckless things and if you look back to the chapters where they interacted, there was always a level of dislike in her character's tone. If you think about it, she really only helped Ashe the one time and it seems as though she regrets it only for the fact that Ashe risked talking to Tiffany in the salon when Tiffany made the music louder. That's for the tension! We'll also learn more about Tiffany in the next half of this chapter which will give her a little bit of history. Thank you as always and much love!

Czerka, your comments throughout your reading really made my day and I hope you enjoy this chapter as well! I'm so happy for your feedback and it means a lot to me!

Guest, thank you so much for your kind words! To hear someone say that they love my version of Eric, one of the things I struggle most with, truly meant the world to me! Thank you so much!

Aurelia Ren, thank you so much for enjoying this story and reviewing! It means so much to me!

Finish-her, I know, it really was a bad way to end huh? *hee-hee* It doesn't really answer much in this chapter, rather it raises more questions, but hopefully more things will come to light, especially as the fear simulations and even War Games comes up! Thank you for your sweet review and I'm so happy you're enjoying this story!

Leneah1, thank you for your kind words! Hopefully, the waiting will end after this chapter! I honestly hate making you all wait because I have stories I love and I know how I hate waiting to see more characters I love. Thank you so much for being a part of this story and reviewing!

Previously...

"I'm glad we've finally gotten the chance to talk," he spoke in a very relaxed and even tone. He reminded me a little too much of Eric, especially in the cold way his eyes slid over my own. I shivered slightly and when Max's pupils widened and he laughed, a loud, barking laugh, I was pretty sure he had noticed it. "You have nothing to fear from me, Ashe. I simply want to talk to you, firstly," Max cleared his throat. "About Eric and you."

An uncertain laugh built in my throat but it died off quickly. "This isn't about Archer and me?"

Max chuckled, sighing deeply. I watched cheeks expand on a wholesome breath but he kept silent for a minute before responding. "You truly think that doesn't happen often? It happens every year. It's tradition." Well, that's great. The knowledge that teenagers try to kill each other in a public display every year made my nerves feel a hundred times better, but I wasn't about to tell Max that. Would just hate to break tradition. Especially with Max's willful ignorance; he didn't care what happened to me as long as the initiation kept going in a straight, linear line. I remembered that clearly.

"What do you want to know about Eric and me?" Saying his name made my voice sound strained. Talking about the leader and I like that made it sound like so much more and for the first time lately, I didn't enjoy the thought. I bit the inside of my cheek, waiting for Max's answer.

"I know that Eric's recently taken you under his wing, as far as training goes." There was a knowing sense behind his eyes that unsettled me as he spoke. "He says you're very determined to stay within Dauntless." He did that little shifty thing with his eyes, serpent-like in the way they slid over me analytically. For a second, I almost laughed because I could've believed that Max was Erudite. All Erudites had a tendency to do weird things with their eyes when they concentrated or studied something too close. When we were suspicious of something, we always made uncomfortable gestures of knowledge unknown to others. I caught myself. Not we. Them. Just them.

"I am, sir," I whispered, fear holding me to the seat like a hard weight. "I'm determined to pass initiation no matter what it takes." His eyes lit up at that as if he got some form of enjoyment out of watching me squirm under his gaze. Maybe Eric and Max had more in common than I originally thought.

"That's wonderful to hear. I simply hope it carries." The leader smiled and I wiggled uncomfortably in my chair. He irked me beyond belief. A part of me wished I could have dragged Eric in here as some sort of defensive shield; the last time we had been in this office Eric had seemed to instill some form of territorial nature within the older man like a young lion does when they challenge the alpha of the pack.

I would still bet my points that Eric would win, hands down.

The guy just made my skin crawl in weird ways and I didn't really want to find out why. Max fingered a piece of paper with his large hands. There was something on them and it covered the tips of his fingers. Ink? A smudge of darkness was left on the corner of the sheet and I could feel the blood drain out of my face. Gunpowder–it had to be. "This paper here says that you used to work in Jeanine's labs." My head perked up, meeting Max's dark gaze head on. Oh no.

"Yes," I answered quietly.

"Come again?"

"Yes," I repeated, albeit more sharply the second time around. A jolt of laughter spread through his shoulders, crinkling the sides of his cheeks. Oh, he was enjoying this. Great, at least one of us was.

"Well," he began with a hint of finality, a small smirk playing on the corner of his lips. "I wouldn't want that liquid to set in your clothes. I'm sure your expertise will come in handy soon." A creepy smile. "Very soon."

"Excuse me, sir?" I questioned but my head was spinning from the implications of the Erudite's name. I had worked with her in a lab for two of my years in Erudite Major, being one of the best lab technicians in genealogy that she had. No doubt she had been pretty pissed when I had switched factions but her angelic face of imitation would never show it. Her best weapon was a pointed smile, which reminded me a little bit of Max's smile too much. I rose to my feet unsteadily, preparing to run for the hills.

The woman had never been unkind to me, but there was a certain deadliness about her that always set my pulse hammering. My back went rigid when Max followed my movement and motioned ahead. I walked forward cautiously, watching him closely before Max's hand fell to the small of my back. I held back a flinch.

"Once you pass initiation, of course, we could use intelligent minds around us." All of his maneuvers felt almost compassionate but I took them for what they truly reminded me of: tactical strategy. It was as if he was playing some intricate board game. Like this entire time, I didn't know what the hell we were facing off for. The past I had run away from was suddenly ramming into me head on. I felt nauseated, a deep sense of dread curling around my shoulders like black covered claws, pulling me backwards. Max opened the doors in a sweeping motion, revealing another leader.

This whole day just made me want to crawl under a set of blankets, no matter where they were, and not wake up for a week.

I could see the soft curl of his blonde hair behind him, hair shaved close to his scalp. Posture straight as a needle, his back was turned to us and his body was obviously tense.

He appeared to be sulking, his head hung low. Eric paced away from us, gliding around and coming to a halt a few feet in front of us.

"Eric," Max said cheerfully. I mulled over the idea that Eric could sense the way I stood, an invisible mine beneath our feet. "What a surprise to see you here so late." From my ears, it sounded as if it was nothing like a surprise to him. Again, he had that spliced tone of superiority. Half of me expected Eric to growl and challenge Max, but he simply returned the smug grin. So it was fake smile day, great.

A muscle twitched in his jaw and I practically joined in on the beam because I knew that gesture. He secretly wanted to pummel the other leader into the floor and when Eric's cobalt gaze drifted to my own, it was as if we shared the joke deep down somewhere. He stepped forward.

"Ashe should probably get some rest, she's had a long day."

"Oh yes," there was a twinkling in Max's brown orbs. For a moment, they were luminous in the darkly lit hallway. Everyone had probably closed down the offices for the night, because it was exactly that: night. I figured Max and Eric were the only two who worked overtime. "The young initiate has trained well today." I didn't dare look his way, his meaning well implied. He had seen Eric and me in the warehouse. Panicky, I fiddled with my hands in front of me. That meant he'd seen my little freakout. What else could he have seen, or even heard? Anxiety spiked through me.

"Great." Eric tread forward, gait confident. The unrestrained fear of Eric walking towards me rivaled the fear deep in my gut, the almost unfounded fear that kept me practically trapped next to Max's side. I was a pawn in a larger chess game, moved through countless maneuvers and seemingly at checkmate, an impasse of massive proportions. No matter where I moved it seemed I would lose. The dread from knowing defeat, a defeat beyond a game but in life frightened me. More than Archer's vain attempts at violence or Vera's unbridled hatred and the obvious search for retribution. This game was beyond me and yet I still felt like I was grasping for straws. Helpless. I blinked, squeezing my eyes shut. Suddenly everything in Dauntless seemed to be slipping beneath my feet, the people changing and morphing. Alliances were forming since I joined Dauntless and I could no longer tell which side I was on. I only knew which side I wanted to be on; the one where I was no longer helpless.

Eric's palm settled on my shoulder. The image of a rag doll caught between the teeth of two dogs surfaced in my brain and I stifled the need to laugh at the confrontational situation. "I've got her from here."

"I'm sure you do," Max said.

Blue narrowed. "Come on, Ashe." I raised my eyebrows at him, hoping Max didn't notice –which I doubted since his eyes were trained on me and Eric. I dove towards the blue-eyed leader's side, settling behind his frame. As Eric turned, placing his hand on my hip and guiding me forward, I didn't feel the same level of creep factor as I had when Max had touched me. Still a level, though, but that was more Four's board of faces than anything else.

"I'll speak with you soon, Ashely," Max exclaimed rather proudly down the hall for anyone who was a workaholic to hear. Shuddering at my full name, I followed Eric around the corner and my shoulders relaxed after we had gotten far enough from the leadership section of Dauntless. Eric, on the other hand, slowly slipped into hold habits and marched forward, the direction evident. His apartment.

Night officially ended.

And considering recent events, I was pretty happy about that. Except of course that Eric looked like he was ready to shoot someone full of lead. When Eric closed the door to his apartment, he whirled around and locked me to the doorframe. I inhaled sharply as his face neared mine, the encounter with Max nearly forgotten.

"What did he want?"

I let out a breathy laugh. "No hi?"

"Hi," he growled, obviously not in the mood for joking around. "What did he say?"

"You seem awfully interested," I teased, waiting for him to snap. I was looking for a fight with someone. I was a ball of energy, pent up with the residual hysteria from my panic attack, Four's growing spiral of revelations about Divergents, Archer and his new lapdog, Vera, and especially Max and him.

Jake and Dahlia was a whole different ballpark.

"Are you really going to do this right now?"

"Do what?" I asked innocently, coyly glancing up into Eric's deep glare.

"That."

"Fine," I muttered. "Why should I tell you? Max didn't bring you into the room, he brought me. Alone." I straightened, pushing him to his full height so that he wasn't completely towering over me. A small part of me worried at how quickly he backed up. I thought about the rabid pixie I called my friend Dahlia and wondered if I looked anything like her right now. I felt a lot like her if that made any difference. "You expect me to trust you and yet all you've told me is a bunch of lies." I spat harshly, words hanging in the silence like a bomb. First the impact, the shock of my anger–no–rage. Then the bomb exploding as his pupils dilated and his nostrils flared, lips strung tight. Then the roaring silence that fell over the both of us.

"I thought we talked about this." He ran a hand through his blond hair, mussing it up.

"Obviously not well enough." It felt wrong to ask but I did it anyways. "Why is Vera sitting with Archer?"

"Like I would know?"

"Oh so now your hawk-like leader senses are failing you? Yeah, right." I scoffed, throwing my head back. His eyes followed the expanse of skin that became exposed. I was thankful for Dahlia's sweater suddenly, pulling at the frayed ends with my fingertips.

"I asked you a simple question," Eric said tightly.

"So did I."

"I asked first," my brow rose so high I was afraid that the thin band of black hair had become one with my hairline.

"That's a childish response."

"I'm not the one being childish right now," Eric spoke slowly, his temper tampering down, being replaced with something surely more deadly.

"You know what," I groused, rubbing a palm over my face. "I'm too tired for this. Goodnight." I stepped around him, prepared to settle myself into the nice comfortable guest bed that was situated a nice distance from Eric.

"No," the leader growled menacingly, stalking me from behind until he was able to corner me at the bedroom door. "You don't get to do that. If you want to fight with me," He let out a ragged breath. "Then fight me."

I shot him a hard look. "You don't deserve my energy right now." Eric took a step back and fear roiled through me. What if I had gone too far? A small section of my tired body couldn't care less. If Eric didn't go on some terrific maiming spree, especially because I had continually insulted his stature the entire night, then Four was right. The only reason he would ever back down from an alpha fight over his power, especially from me, was if he needed something that I had. Eric's eyes narrowed but he said nothing.

For some reason, I didn't exactly feel like I had won anything. Pushing against the door and turning my back to Eric, I faced the handle and pushed. Eric had been winning my trust and my compliance this entire time, despite the innate dread that accompanied his presence whenever he was near, but he had been winning all of the battles and especially the war. The small victory gained tonight didn't exactly make me feel all that better. I still didn't know what any of it meant, but it was an improvement. Eric wouldn't hurt me the way I knew he could for a reason–I just needed to find out what that reason was.

Problem? All I wanted was sleep.

I yanked off my clothes, pulling Dahlia's sweater over my head and throwing it to the corner of the room angrily. I made a long disgusted sound in the back of my throat, groaning when my pants wouldn't cooperate with me. The button seemed glued to the fabric, my fingers twisting and yanking until I couldn't handle it anymore and I slid down the door, my back feeling every ridge and pattern of the wood. Tilting my head against the strong barrier, I let my walls collapse around me, tears drenching my cheeks. Sobbing like I hadn't in years, I dropped my head into my hands and let it all out. I wasn't exactly crying over the pants, or Four or even Archer in particular; I cried over everything.

I cried because of Vera and the look of joy that I found tonight instead of her once dry, analytical but still kind eyes. Wetness gathered on my skin, falling in thick streams because of Zach and everyone I had betrayed by trusting in Eric. For believing I could change the coldness in his eyes. Guilt swarmed my veins, making it hard to breathe. Even though Dahlia and Jake said it wasn't my fault, they didn't know the full truth. They probably never would and the loneliness of my position hit me hard.

Always alone. I never had anyone back in Erudite and I wasn't so sure I had anyone here either. How could I have imagined Eric would ever protect me? That he would actually care about me?

I should have remembered the man who threw me over the chasm and not the man who had shielded me with his body from Archer. I had told him when he kissed me that I chose the lesser of two evils but now it felt even more true.

Everything crashed around me in resounding waves, leaving little craters of torment that strangled me from the inside out. I stood ungracefully, pulling the pieces together. I slipped out of my clothes which no longer hindered me and stepped into the bathroom. The cold faucet turned under my palm, water gushing out from the spout. I had no energy left in me.

Sinking into the water, I let the warmth penetrate my skin, almost soothing the coldness bound in my heart. After a little while of washing and rinsing methodically, without much thought, I stood and dried myself, wrapping my body in a robe. I passed a small owl figure sitting proudly on a shelf as I entered the spare bedroom, the little ornament reminding me of Eric with his dark and ominous blue eyes, always searching: analyzing.

I hastily threw a tank top on over myself, luckily equipped with clothes in the drawer from the last time I was in the guest room. I yanked on a pair of shorts.

Perching myself on the bed and leaning back, I stared at the wall, sideways, watching the moonlight drift over the room as it switched positions in the sky. It all had to mean something. Eric was a killer, he was a liar and most of all, did I mention, a killer? A killer of Divergents. Need I answer that one?

My eyes pulled closed and the image of Zach's haunting gaze lingered–or sometimes, only sometimes–the feral animosity and distinct lust that had drifted over Archer's gaze that night in the hallway oh-so-long ago. When Eric had saved me, fought for me. I cleared the thought out of my head. Fear clung to my body like a cape, tearing my eyes open after every moment of peace gained. Did all of the people Eric had killed haunt him the same way that these events–these people–haunted me?

When his eyes were closed, when his guard was down, didn't a part of that haunt him too? I felt like we were stuck in parallel universes, the opposite sides of the same war. Eric fought against what I was and I...

I fought for nothing.

I turned onto my back, my bones cracking and legs groaning in protest. I fought for nothing. Not for myself, not even for my friends.

Never again.

I contented myself with those words, the words that stopped the loop of me being parallel to Eric. What had my old math instructor taught? Parallel lines never meet at one point. It was as if fate had destined it that way. Eric and I were nothing alike. I didn't push people away; I didn't hurt people.

An insidious voice I knew was my own told me that wasn't the truth. I had hurt Vera and Zach, hurt them so much that Zach had been exiled and Vera...Vera had been exiled to a new fate as well. I could still see the gleeful way her eyes had met mine when Archer slammed the small dinner knife into my seat. How could someone become so drastically different?

The feeling, I assumed, I would come to know soon.

I wouldn't be the same girl that didn't fight for anything, who didn't stand up for what she was and what she believed in. Maybe something about what Tiffany had said was true: I had been acting like I was just a little girl, a kid. Like when one plays with scissors as a child and cuts oneself, not knowing the dangers. I had pranced around being Divergent, not even realizing it, while I knew close to nothing about it. Putting myself into dangerous and precarious positions time and time again, allowing myself to become closer to Eric, letting everyone around me become a risk if anything were to be found out about me.

The only thing I did know, what I was afraid of knowing, was what exactly made Divergents...Divergents. Jeanine understood that I knew genetic coding like the back of my hand, that I was quick, and smart, especially inside of a lab. And obviously, Max had figured it out as well.

Why it was important now, though, was still the question.

The only ending thought that allowed me the peacefulness of rest was knowing the next day I would speak to Four and figure out what the hell I didn't know.