Thanks to Bamberlee for editing.
Thank you to those who reviewed the last chapter. I am not sure when the next update will be, or if there will be one. I've had some crazy stuff happen this past week, and my hands full with what comes next. Thanks to everyone who has been following the story this far.
I wait patiently.
I sit next to Eric at Clyde's in a dress with exaggerated sleeves and my hair down. Christina had come over to help me get ready. Her arrival was unexpected, but welcome. She helped me straighten my hair until it was longer and shinier than before, and we caught up on a few things while she worked on each section.
She told me Rylan had filled her in on the latest with Four. There was no good prognosis, and he'd taken to glaring at everyone who walked by him. He loathed being reminded that he couldn't remember anything, and the only time he eased up was when he was with Tris. It proved to be a problem. Tris' relationship with Jeremy was immediately strained, especially when in the middle of the mess hall, he loudly declared she was to stay away from Four.
I almost fell off the side of the tub I was sitting on when Christina told me that.
Jeremy took great offense to his girlfriend's ex-boyfriend needing her help, and worse, he tried to have Four banned to the infirmary. Tris was horrified, both at Jeremy's demand and his theory that something was going on with Four. She'd dumped Four because he was clingy, but she did feel obligated to help him. Christina went on to tell me it wasn't as innocent as it seemed and Jeremy wasn't so far off base with his guess that Tris' concern wasn't just friendly. Christina then sighed while straightening a piece of my hair so long she could barely do it in one swipe, and bluntly told me it was obvious they still loved each other.
I didn't have much to go on, but I didn't disagree.
It was an odd romance. Both were stubborn and headstrong, but maybe this would bring them together.
She laughed when she told me Rylan was still referring to Four as Frank and had changed his name in the database. I liked her and her laughing, and I even liked when Rylan called and she propped up the phone so we could both hear him. It was obvious they adored each other; both were gossipy and sarcastic, though Christina proved to be more levelheaded. They snickered over the latest drama of Four asking if Tris could go with him to get his hair cut, and Tris' extreme reluctance to piss off Jeremy.
It came to a head when Rylan turned off the cameras for their sake, and Jeremy found out.
All this culminated when they invited us to dinner. Eric agreed, and on the walk over, I knew he felt guilty.
Whatever argument he'd been in with Jeanine was spilling over into his time with me. I hadn't brought up discovering we were married, but I didn't know how. I wasn't afraid of him. Out of anyone in Dauntless, I was the closest to him. I'd put together a theory, which I firmly believed to be true, and that theory was Eric wanted someone to love him.
At first, I thought I was being stupid.
I'd never been in love, but I had the weirdest feeling I was seeing what it was like when someone loved you. Eric was so independent it was strange he even lived here. He kept to himself, kept his social circle incredibly small, and used his power to build a life that allocated him the privacy he wanted. While he could be reached by phone, he'd turn it off once he'd had enough. He had an apartment with plenty of space, completely decorated the way he wanted. He had the whole faction at his fingertips. Even if this rift with Jeanine blew up in his face, she couldn't touch him here. It was unlikely she'd even be able to find him, and even more unlikely the rest of the leaders would let her come after him.
His friends were fiercely loyal, along with Max and Tori, and the support staff who made the faction run smoothly.
But his life wasn't as perfect as he played it off. In the darkest, coldest parts of the night, he was unconsciously clingy. He sat as close to me as he could, and his fingers never left me. He liked to touch the places where no one else could, and not just the ones that made me gasp his name. He skimmed over my neck, behind my ear, and over my collar bone. He touched my side, slipping beneath his own shirt I'd thrown on, and carefully pressed over the ghost of past bruises. He liked my hair; he often sunk his fingers in to catch the tangled parts or twirled the strands around.
If I wasn't close to him, he found a way to change this.
My head on his chest.
His legs through mine.
His bed shared, but not. There was no space between us, even if things weren't physical. He held on tightly, seeking out the feeling of me against his skin, all while being the most terrifying leader Dauntless had. The rumors didn't quite match up to the Eric I saw when I curled against him every night, but I knew they were true. I'd watched him shoot Evelyn while running, point blank, and it was a skill that required extreme dedication. I'd watched him stalk through Amity looking for…something. I'd witnessed him attack Four, his voice low and calm but his motions filled with rage and fury, seconds after he'd let go of my face.
There was no softening of him over time, but an understanding.
Which was why I couldn't ask him about the emails I'd found. It wasn't my place to snoop through his things, even if it left me wondering if he'd ever tell me. Maybe I wasn't the wife he'd imagined, or he was so insulted that I said I wouldn't marry him that he went ahead and did it for me to cover up his own pride.
Whatever the case may be, he is content with me now, adjusting us so my back is against him and his arm is around me.
"So are you telling me that Four might never remember who he is? Does anyone have the Cliff notes on his tumultuous relationship with Prior? Who's gonna fill him in on how terribly that ended?" Rylan takes a sip of his drink, a tall neon colored concoction that glows, and I imagine his internal organs lighting up with every sip. "Ellery? Will you be the one to remind him about the scene in the mess hall? I wish I'd gotten it on video."
I smile from beneath my hair, and I push it out of the way to see him better.
He and Christina are wired. They both have similar drinks, plates of nachos and onion rings and some fried sticks they claimed had cheese in them. They laugh as Lucy drops off more appetizers: a plate with slices of meat and more cheese, followed by a heaping pile of fries. They look at me expectantly, and I try not to laugh considering I hadn't been here for any of that.
"I don't know anything about their relationship." I reach for my water over the soda Lucy had brought, and I shrug. "I just heard it didn't end well."
"Nothing Four does ends well," Jason slides into the booth next to Rylan, and both Rylan and Christina move down so he can sit with them. They both look up to greet the person waiting, and I realize he has Meghan with him. "Hey, uh, this is Meghan. Meghan this is Everly."
"Ellery," Rylan snickers, and he throws a fry at me. Eric stays silent, not mad, and not even annoyed at his friend, just sort of lost in whatever he's thinking about. "Eric. Earth to Eric. I just called your wife by the wrong name."
"I heard you," Eric answers dryly, and he tosses the fry back at him. "I don't think Everly has truly witnessed Four and Tris at their best. Maybe we should let her. And hey Meghan."
"Hi."
I'm shocked he greeted her, and so is she. For a second, she hovers at the end of the table like she's not sure she wants to join us. Her hair, long and shiny, is a startling shade of neon green. She's skinny, really skinny, and she practically wobbles in place while she looks at me.
Her eyes are piercing and pretty, and it takes me a single second to realize she's tipsy.
"Oh my gosh, that's really her! Jason, she's real!"
"Oh boy," Jason answers, reaching for Meghan to pull her down next to him. He throws me an apologetic glance, and he struggles to keep her upright. She's not sloppily drunk, but she finds his actions hilarious. She leans against him, her hair glowing like Rylan's drink under the lighting, and her stare returns to me. "This is Meghan. We uh, went to happy hour before coming up here."
"Where?" Rylan glances down at him, and so does Christina. "At the new bar?"
"Yeah, it was crazy. Everything is super expensive, but we had fun. Meghan liked it."
"I fell off the barstool," she shrugs, and she nearly knocks Rylan's drink over trying to slide it to him. "What is that? I want it."
"Maybe let's have some water," Jason laughs, but he's just as buzzed as she is.
I watch them carefully. Jason's cheeks are red, and he laughs every time she bumps into him. Meghan is startling pretty and obviously enamored with him. She takes his hand and holds on tightly, leaning back and closing her eyes for a second.
"She's wasted," Eric mutters, and his lips graze my ear. "She works in administration. She's very nice and I'm sure you'll get along great, but she loves to drink. She had a strict upbringing so she's making up for it now."
"How tall are you?" Meghan asks, and her eyes are wide. "She's so little. Eric is so…."
"Athletically inclined?" Rylan laughs, and he looks up when Lucy returns to take our order. "You know my order. Harrison said I can have whatever I want."
"Yes, I'm aware." Lucy's response is dry. "I'll have the cooks start on your children's meal now. I already warned them you're here."
"Great," he winks, and Christina laughs into her drink. "Chris will have the same."
"No, I will not. I'll have a cheeseburger. I need actual food. Not frozen, prehistoric shaped chicken nuggets." Christina shakes her head, and she looks at Jason. "Do you guys need a minute?"
"Nah."
"Eric?" Lucy stands at the end of the table, and her shirt is black and blue. It says Clyde's above the pocket, and I wonder if the name means something. "Or…Everly?"
She looks at me, and I realize I'm sort of staring at her. "Oh, sorry. I'll have um…the chicken."
"Are you sure?" Lucy hesitates, and the look on her face makes me rethink ordering anything off the menu. "Actually, you know what, Paul is filling in for the cook. You'll be fine."
"Are you sure?" I stare up at her as Eric takes my menu, and he snorts at my question. He quickly orders his own meal, then waits for Jason and Meghan.
I decide I like them, too.
The world of Dauntless is strange, yet not that unlike Amity. It's very clear people are friends here. They work, hang out, eat dinner, and go home. While this is probably only the tip of the iceberg of what it's like to live here, I find that I really like it. Every so often, a tiny bit of doubt sneaks up, that maybe this isn't where I belong.
But the longer I stay here, the more I think it is.
Especially when Meghan orders tacos and smiles over at me. She starts to ask me about Amity, curiously wanting to know what the guys were like and if I'd ever seen any wild animals wandering around, and she doesn't stop, not even when the food arrives.
Or the ends of her hair dip into her drink, soaking in a bright, glowing liquid for the entire dinner.
"Are you ready?"
Eric stares at me while he fixes the collar on my jacket. It's a tiny, mirror replica of his, even though I'm not a leader here. He smooths the collar out once he adjusts it, then brushes my hair back and off my neck.
He waits patiently until I nod my head at him, oddly nervous.
Since discovering the paperwork, I waited for Eric to admit we were married. It wasn't a huge surprise given Rylan's ongoing hints and my status in his game, but it was strange he wouldn't tell me. For a few wavering seconds, I wondered if he was embarrassed by me. Perhaps marrying a girl from Amity would be frowned upon by the Dauntless faction, or I wasn't living up to his expectations.
I was trying.
Since our dinner with his friends, I'd felt like I could have a place here. I tried out some new things, thinking this would up my chances of proving I fit in.
I'd gone running with him yesterday. It was easier than I thought and exhilarating, especially in the cold dark air. I'd never run through the city before, and even sweaty and kind of cold, it was an eye-opening experience. There was so much more out there than I ever imagined. Eric led me along an easy path; he stuck close by, but gave me the chance to take it all in. I kept up as best I could, and I wasn't even tired until we got back and I showered.
I wound up sleeping all morning, and I awoke only when Christina called to invite me to lunch.
Other than that, I felt like I was doing okay. Dauntless was easier to navigate. I could get to the mess hall on my own. The stores. The Pit, though I stayed away since the violent fighting was a little too intense for me to watch. I'd caught a glimpse of two members working through some argument by punching each other in the head, and I kept going in search of ice cream. I knew other places, too. I visited Will in the control room, taking the seat beside him to watch Harrison and May stroll through the Amity faction with a trail of both members and ducks behind them. I visited Christina, and she showed me the tattoo she wanted to get and left early so we could get a late breakfast.
I even went to see Four, though his demeanor was no better. He still couldn't remember anything, and since Zeke worked full time on one of the routes, Tris was staying with him. This development had led to some blow up argument between her and Jeremy, though Eric could not have cared any less. He rolled his eyes and said he sided with Jeremy, but part of him looked pleased at the situation. Jeremy's work was suffering as a result, and it gave Eric all the more reason not to promote him.
I listened to everything going on around me. I soaked up every single word of gossip, rumor, or fact I could. I sat next to Max in the breakroom, and I asked Tori how she liked being a leader. I went shooting with Eric again, hitting more or less all of the required number of targets, before heading downstairs to pass on his intense, yet routine, workout.
I felt like things were going good.
Up until this very second.
Today, a cold and icy Thursday, is the final day of the Dauntless initiation. I awoke to Eric's alarm going off, and over coffee, he informed me we'd be going down there to watch the fear landscapes.
I have no clue what any of this is.
Even now, as Eric's fingers brush the skin along the juncture of my neck and shoulder, I still don't know why the initiates can't just be accepted. In Amity, they were all just members. We had a huge party, but even if your scores were dismal, like mine, odds were, you still became a member.
"I am. Are you?"
I crane my head up to look at him, and he smiles. The anger over the dinner has waned, and he's been much happier. Even now, his smirk is pleased, and he touches my jaw carefully.
"Always."
We leave together. I catch sight of us in the mirror, our dark uniforms the same and our posture echoing each other's. My hair is pulled up on the sides, and it hangs down long, blending into the heavy coat. I like this version of me, though I loathe the pants. I'd skipped them altogether in favor of leggings, and Eric looked amused at his.
He looks amused now, as he brushes his lips against mine and lowly announces everyone will be there. I follow Eric out of the apartment, to the elevator, and up to one of the higher levels of Dauntless. I find myself excited, but nervous.
I wasn't even going through their initiation, but in some ways, I felt like I was.
Despite the sunlight pouring in through large windows, the mood is intense.
The room where the fear landscapes are held is freezing. It's vast and expansive, an industrial blend of metal beams and brick walls and geometric windows. The initiates are grouped together in small clumps, talking amongst themselves. There is some excitement, but mostly nerves. Jake stands with Karl and a few others, and a girl with long blonde hair tugs on his arm. He throws her a small smile, but immediately goes back to whispering to Karl. The two of them nod, but they look up when Lauren walks in.
She looks annoyed.
It must be her usual expression.
She surveys the room quickly but doesn't stop. She heads straight over to Max, standing with Jason and Rylan, and next to them is Four. He looks out of place as he surveys the class he once trained, and I wonder who brought him down here.
A quick glance around doesn't find Tris, only more initiates, filing in to fill all the empty space.
"Before you ask, Max insisted he be here. Though Four hasn't trained them in some time," Eric lowly informs me, and we walk right through the middle of the class. They all turn to look at me, some in pure, raw jealousy, and others in total confusion, but they don't move. "Tris is working today, so Jason has agreed to keep him busy. They're hoping maybe watching one or two of the landscapes will jar his memory."
"What do they have to do?" My hand is in Eric's, and he doesn't let go. He walks with total arrogance, and I can't even begin to mimic how confident he is. I smile at a few who smile at me, and it hits me that had I picked Dauntless, I would have been amongst them. "Eric?"
"They're injected with a serum which causes them to face their worst fears. They work through a series of them, one by one. Each initiate is scored on how they react and how long it takes them. Some are quick, others are drawn out." He answers evenly, and Rylan breaks his oddly professional posture to wave. "They'll all make it, but they're scored on how well they do."
I immediately try to think of what my own fears would be.
Landon, for sure.
Being murdered on a dirt pathway while Zander watched might be second.
Eric, admitting this was all for show and he would be dragging me in to be tested would definitely be one. I imagine it would be my number one fear, right up there with him announcing this had been fun, but he was over it.
Carole would probably be there, too.
A flock of chickens, talons primed at my face.
"Have you done it?" I hold on tighter, and I hear Jason tell Four it's good to see him. Four stares at him like he's insane, and his answer is a shrug of dismissal. "Is it hard?"
"Depends. Mine wasn't," Eric answers offhandedly, and we come to a stop in front of Max.
He greets us warmly, and he makes sure I'm looking when he smiles. "Good morning, Eric. Everly. You look…nice."
He likes the uniform. He takes in Eric and me with approval, and his stare lingers on my hand in Eric's. Just for a moment. Then he snaps back to Dauntless leader and instructs Tori to see if Lauren needs help. "Is she ready? I know it's been a lot for her to have both classes. We're just waiting on Jeanine."
"I'm fine. They're all ready. I did the best I could with Four's class."
Lauren shows up like she was waiting for this moment. Her hair is less severe today. She throws me one haughty stare, but it falls when she realizes my jacket is a smaller version of Eric's. Hers is a plain one, black and leather, and she struggles to hide her scowl.
I struggle to hide my intense nausea at the name Jeanine. I hadn't been expecting her to be here, or for her name to be thrown out so casually. I focus on Eric's hand, warm and much larger than mine, and I try not to focus on how cold it is in here.
"Does he remember anything yet? Or is he still our resident clueless wonder?" Lauren ignores my smile of hello, and gestures at Four. "Hello? Four?"
"What? It's great to see you again…Laura." He's unimpressed by her, but he faintly smiles at me. It's completely out of sheer politeness, and nothing more. "Hi Everly."
"Hi Four."
I hold onto Eric tighter, but I stand up straight. I do my best not to look at Lauren, now seething as she informs Max of the order the initiates are ranked, but it grows impossible when Jeanine walks in the room and makes a beeline toward us. I would expect her to look at the new members of the faction, but her stare immediately lands on me; it's as stiff as her coat, and just as intimidating. There is nothing to her but pure professionalism, and a healthy dose of superiority.
She breaks her scrutiny to glance back at the initiates, but returns her focus to me almost immediately.
"My apologies for being late. My meeting ran over," she greets mostly Max, and her eyes narrow at the sight of Eric. "I was expecting to see you this morning. Did we not confirm a representative from Dauntless would be in attendance?"
"Jeremy went. Everyone else was busy," Eric answers without a trace of interest. "Was there something needing my immediate attention?"
The standoff between them is new. He looks down at her, fantastic at deflecting her gaze, and dismissive. He's unbothered as ever when she doesn't look away, and he makes it perfectly clear he had no plans of being in said meeting. "Did you need something else?"
"I'll email you directly."
She doesn't look away from him for a moment. She calculates something in her head, tilting it ever so slightly, then she presses her lips together and eyes me. The look she tosses in my direction is a lot like Blythe's: annoyed and unimpressed. She stares until there's a click of recognition, and her lips part.
"You must be…"
She doesn't say my name. It's like she can't, like it's a bad word and she's too polite for such a thing.
"I'm Everly," I reach my free hand out to her, hoping to appear polite. The few members of Erudite I've interacted with really seem to like social niceties. "It's…nice to meet you."
My lie is as heavy as the feeling in my stomach. I half wonder if Eric gave me the uniform to camouflage me here. While tough and invincible feeling, it turned me into one of the Dauntless soldiers. There is no soft dress or pretty skirt to make me stand out, only a dark uniform which everyone else has on, in varying shades of severity. It offered a moment of anonymity. A quick glance in my direction would lead one to think I belonged here. A longer inspection might raise a few questions, but it was enough of a deterrent for most.
"Eric, do you have time for a word? I think –"
She doesn't take my hand, nor does she acknowledge me past asking my name. She turns on her heel to face Eric, and she's cut off by him shaking his head.
"We're about to begin. We can talk later."
He dismisses her with the scarcest hint of concern. He motions for Lauren to start the final process of initiation, and he only lets go of my hand when Rylan has him come look at something on his phone. I wind up standing by Four, and he cocks his head to the side, eyeing Jeanine with great displeasure.
After a second, he nudges me with his elbow.
"You been through this already? Do you know what they're going to do?"
"They're going to inject them," I answer quietly, and the show begins by Lauren sighing in exasperation that Rylan needs to step away from the computer. "Eric said it's a fear landscape. Each one works through their worst fears. I think the leaders watch and score them."
"Interesting," Four mutters, and he shoves his hands in his pockets.
"Do you remember any of your fears?" I wonder if his mother is one of them, or if he was only afraid she'd be disappointed, even in death. "Or your –"
"No," Four knocks me out of the way to step aside, and he glances down with zero apology. "I don't…I can't remember them. Or being here. Did you do it?"
I'm not sure why he's fixated on whether or not I've gone through this initiation, but maybe he's just trying to piece everything together.
Either way, I wait until Jeanine looks away from me, and I lowly inform him no.
"Why does everyone here have long hair?"
Four leans against the counter of the kitchen with an air of disdain. He watches the workers zoom past us, their arms full of large trays to prepare for lunch. We've already been offered a few things. When we showed up, the kitchen staff was eating a hurried lunch prepared by Quinten himself, and he instructed us to hang out in the kitchen and have some ice cream while he went to see if the leaders were taking a break.
They were still watching the fear landscapes.
At first, I was interested in the process.
Jason stood at the computer, selecting the initiate's name and typing a few quick notes. Lauren waited until he was ready before she injected anyone, and her movements were precise. Each initiate got a full syringe of a serum, and they barely moved. A few blinked out of pure reactionary movement, but most of the ones I watched didn't even move. A few seconds would pass before their gazes grew distant, then their eyes closed.
On the screens before us, terrifying scenarios blossomed one by one. I stood awestruck as the first initiate, a boy named CJ, fell off the edge of a building. My stomach turned over as he dug his nails into the sides to try and stop himself, and the bloody mess bled right into his second fear. His leg was the next casualty, followed by his head smashing into the ground with a sickening thud.
It didn't really get better from there.
The girl after him, a tall girl with dark blonde hair and a mean smile was afraid of bugs. The next girl was afraid of lightening, vampires, and oddly enough, wild animals. She finished her fear landscape with a full body gasp, a retching sound, and Rylan quickly ushered her out of the room. I inched closer to Eric when Karl went, and while he handled his fears easily, it felt too personal to watch. His father died, taking his last gasping breath while Karl couldn't get to him, and his family fell apart. His little brother was shot. His mother hated him. All of this mixed in with darkness –pure, black darkness – and something growling.
By the time we got to bloody eyeballs and a fear of heights so bad my heart felt like it might burst from beneath my ribcage, Eric noticed I wasn't doing so well. My hands felt clammy, and the girl whose fear landscape included her eyes bleeding was my size. A little taller, a little stronger, but I could have been in her place. I tried to tough it out so I could be prepared in case I had to go through one, but Eric took me by the elbow, said we'd be back, and escorted me into the hallway.
Jeanine stayed.
She hung out in the back, observing with clinical precision. I tried to figure out what she was watching for, but for the most part, nothing fazed her. She blinked, frowned, and tilted her head when something displeased her. Every so often, her stare slipped over to me, oily and fast, and I really didn't like her. I didn't know her at all, but it seemed like she had it out for me.
That didn't help, either.
I felt much better in the coldness of the dark, until Eric roughly told me he had to stay for the rest. He assured me they were completely safe; these simulations were one hundred percent in their heads, and not a single one would be harmed. I didn't have the heart or the guts to tell him I found them horrifying, but I didn't have to. Rylan bounced over with Four, and very delicately informed us Four had pushed a few buttons and shut down the entire thing.
He was trying to help.
He thought Jason wasn't going fast enough, but rather than speed something up –an unnecessary moment in any initiate's simulation –he shut it down.
The end result was Four and I were sent to go see if lunch was ready while they tried to fix whatever he'd touched. Once Quinten returned to the kitchens, he cheerfully mass produced grilled cheese after grilled cheese for the faction. Now, I sat on the counter while Four sighed into a bowl of vanilla ice cream and every so often, smiled dully at whoever bumped into him.
"Are you…" I pause when he looks up, and he's more Tobias in this moment than ever. Defiant and angry by my question. "What?"
"Don't ask me if I'm fine. I'm not," he spits out, and he doesn't even eat his ice cream. "I still don't remember anything so don't even ask. I know you were going to."
He glares at me, more infuriated than I've ever seen him.
"I'm just –"
"Concerned? I don't want to hear it. If it's not you, it's everyone else in this faction."
"Okay," I glance down at my boots, and I wonder if Eric is almost done. This day was not going how I planned. I was happy to step away with Four, even relieved at the idea of some time away from the simulations. I had thought maybe I could be friends with Four, but he seemed to loathe the mere sight of me. "I'm sorry. I won't ask you anything else. I was just asking in case it had worn off some."
"It hasn't."
We lapse into silence. He makes a strange sound, sort of like he's clearing his throat, and I swirl the ice cream around with my spoon.
I was still toying with the idea of calling Daniel. His name was in my phone, like some strange secret meant for no one else. It would be easy to call him. I could imagine the phone connecting immediately; he'd either answer, or I'd get his voicemail and I could leave a message. I rehearsed what I would say in my head. I'd make it sound professional, like maybe I'd been told to call him, and when things were normal -thanks to me- both Four and Tris would be thrilled.
But now, sitting across from him while he didn't want to be here, I decide against it.
It was unlikely Daniel could help, anyway.
"I'm sorry."
I look up to one anguished stare, aimed right at me. It's heavy. His eyes don't blink while he frowns, and he looks miserable. He waits for me to answer him, but I'm not sure what he wants. "Everly?"
"Why are you sorry? You didn't do anything."
"For…being an asshole to you. I know you didn't do any of this. You've…been nicer than most people here. I'm just sick of hearing that I don't know what's going on, and I'm sick of everyone acting like I'm a moron." He crosses his arms over his chest, and he still looks put out. "Are you friends with Tris? She said you were trying to help me and I should be nice to you."
I stay silent.
I swirl the ice cream around again, harder, pretending its Four's head.
"I said I was sorry!" He protests, like this will make everything just fine. "I don't know what you want me to tell you. I don't even like ice cream."
"I'm not…. I'm not really good friends with her. I don't think she likes me a ton, but I did offer to help. Eric's father helped my father. I thought maybe he could help you. I was going to call him but…"
"But what?" He waits for my answer with the patience of no one. "You don't want to now? Because I told you not to ask how I am?"
"No, it's not that. I told you, I won't ask how you are. I don't think Eric's parents like me very much. Remember how you asked if we were married?" I smash his imaginary head down completely, and he nods slowly. "Well, we are, but…it's complicated. His mom isn't good with it at all, and I think… I think his dad just has to go along with whatever she wants. So, I don't think he'd help me. Not now."
Confessing this out loud is insane.
I haven't even talked to Eric about it, but there's some relief to telling someone.
"Why? You're incredibly nice. And you like Eric, which is odd considering he's an arrogant dick," Four snaps, and I force myself not to laugh. "I don't need my memory back to know that. He saunters around like he owns the place. There's no reason for him to be so haughty. I keep waiting to hear he's being demoted."
"I don't think he could be demoted if he tried," I answer honestly, and my track record for dining with others continues to be a dumpster fire. "I just….you and I talked in Amity a few times. I thought maybe we'd be friends someday. Or maybe not. In Amity, everyone is friends no matter what. But this isn't Amity. So…we don't have to be friends. In fact, I'm gonna go home and I'll let you have your space. I'm sure you can find your way back to your apartment."
"So you're leaving me here?"
I slide down off the counter, and I set the bowl of ice cream down. "I hope things work out between you and Tris."
"Everly, wait –"
Four's demand isn't so much a demand as it is a plea, but I don't hang around to hear it.
Having his memory erased gave him every reason in the world to be pissed off, but I didn't know why he was so mad at me. I hadn't done anything to him, unless he could hazily put together his mother had come for me first, then him out of pure retaliation.
I don't focus on it for too long.
I make it halfway back to Eric's apartment when I find Harrison looking for me.
"You don't look very good."
Harrison eyes me with complete suspicion. I nod at him, and I silently accept the drink he's ordered for me. His own bar is quiet right now; with the initiation coming to an end, almost all the members are preparing for the party tonight. On the walk over here, Harrison told me once initiation is over, Dauntless celebrates with a night of partying.
My eyes widened at the idea, and he smiled.
"You watched the fear landscapes, didn't you?" Harrison nudges the drink closer to me, and he's dressed casually. "I told Eric not to have you watch them. They can be disturbing. Half the time, the fears change drastically from their first run through. Tris watched them a few times during her control room training. She threw up after a particularly bad one."
"Does everyone have to watch them?" I stare back in horror, and I take a slow sip of the drink.
I have to admit, I feel better now. Being away from the simulations and Four had lessened my crappy mood, and my stomach wasn't entirely so upset. I couldn't figure out which one had upset me more: watching Karl stumble out of the chair looking visibly ill but pretending he was fine, or Four, snapping at me to leave him alone.
"Did you eat lunch? You look pale." Harrison waves Lucy back to our table, and he orders for both of us. "Let me explain something about why Eric brought you down there. I've been meaning to talk to you about him anyway."
He waits until Lucy leaves, then leans across the table. "I know Jeanine is here. That's never good. But he's showing her he doesn't give a fuck about what she says. Eric, and I give him credit for this, is trying to give you a whirlwind introduction to Dauntless so you'll stay with him. If he was going to be in a relationship of any kind with anyone else, they'd know this place like the back of their hand. They wouldn't be afraid or nervous. But you're not from here nor are you required to go through our initiation process. So, he's trying to show you everything and praying you don't run. Imagine knowing that in order to stay here, a team of total strangers is going to watch all your worst fears on a screen, then critique how well you handle them? He's afraid you're gonna bolt. He's doing the best he can to show you what he does without freaking you out."
"I'm not going to bolt," I don't know who I'm promising this to, Harrison or the ghost of Eric. "I just…it was hard to watch them all. The ones with Karl's family made my stomach hurt. I guess I wasn't expecting that. Or the blood. I didn't like the one where the guy's fingers snapped backward."
"That could make you sick," he shrugs. "Most people don't see things like that every day. Jason and Rylan are desensitized to it all. They've seen insane fears and stupid fears. Things like, being afraid of clouds or losing your shoe. They've seen worse things than what you saw. Eric should have warned you, but my guess is he forgot they can be intense."
"So what does this have to do with Eric?" I take another sip, and I feel completely normal now. "I've been doing a lot of new things here. I want people to know I belong in this faction. I thought if I went with Four to Amity I could prove I belonged in Dauntless and I've been trying to do what Eric does. I went running with him and he trained me how to shoot a gun. I went to the gym. Once."
Harrison is quiet. He examines the drink in front of him, and he nods. "He said you were more than proficient at handling a firearm. He was impressed, which is rare."
"You knew?" I immediately feel stupid, because Eric mentioned Harrison had agreed to the training. "You know everything, don't you?"
"I know he's training you in a few areas which will keep you alive. I disagreed with giving you his uniform. Unless you want to be a leader here." Harrison looks up, and his smile is genuine. "You can do whatever you want here. They'll all back you."
"I haven't even thought about it," I answer honestly, scrambling to think of a job I could do. "What if I don't find anything right away? Am I even qualified?"
"Please. You're more qualified than half the people here. It doesn't take much to run a store or file paperwork. Eric won't care what you do. He'll be more than happy if you sit at home and wait for him. I reminded him you left Amity for that very reason, but he has good intentions. For once."
"How is Amity? How's my mom?" I smile when Lucy drops off my lunch, and to my surprise, it's a heaping plate of spaghetti. "This is for me?"
"You need some calories. I'll have to ask Coulter what he's feeding you. Yes, it's all for you. Your mom is fine. She's struggling with being happy your father is alright and horrified he was the one who wanted to leave." Harrison takes a bite of his hamburger, which is an impressive display of culinary skill, and he shrugs. "She was committed to sticking with him until it got to be too much. I don't think she thought he would be the one to make that decision."
"Is he okay?" I slowly eat a forkful of spaghetti, and it's good. Better than I expected. "Hank?"
"Totally fine. His new home is beautiful. A little less family oriented but there's room for everyone. He looks happy, he seems to be almost back to normal, and he said he can't wait to get back to work."
"You saw him?"
"We had coffee this morning. I brought him a welcome back gift." Harrison shrugs, like it was totally normal to bring the love of your life's ex-husband a glad you're alive present . "I offered my help if he needed anything. I have some free time. Johanna had an easy job. You want a job there? You could run Amity."
His joke makes me smile.
"No thanks. I don't want to be in charge of the chickens," I reach for my drink, and something hits me. "Are you staying there? As their official leader? It would make no sense for you to do it temporarily if you're good at it."
He considers his answer for a few bites. "I haven't decided. I might take it permanently. I could stay close to your mom and Zander. Forrest. Willow is looking much better these days."
"Is she still sick?" I lean forward, and his words trigger a whole slew of memories from Amity. And some guilt. I'd completely forgotten Willow was pregnant, but not for any reason other than I'd been busy. "Is Forrest happy you're there?"
"Thrilled. We went out to scout the border of the woods. I wanted to make sure I had everything accurate on this ancient map Johanna gave me. She was way off. But Willow is fine. She's feeling much better. She said to tell you hello, and she misses you."
"Tell her I miss her, too." There's no wistfulness in my tone, because I five thousand percent do not want to go back. But I do miss my family, especially Forrest. "Zander must be thrilled you're there."
"He is. He's a little…confused now that Hank is back. I have no interest in taking over for Hank, but I want Zander to know the truth." Harrison grabs his coffee, then glances at his watch. "I told him it'll work out. He's to listen to Hank when Hank is around. So far, Hank's been busy getting moved in and fending off Carole's advances to let her use his property for a second chicken farm."
He says this with a smirk, and I try not to laugh at the absurdity of it all.
The weird and secret life of my father, my real father, and the family in the middle is complicated. I imagine it would be easier if one of them wasn't in Amity, and if Harrison stays, then it makes things a little trickier.
But not impossible.
"I hope things work out okay. I think they will," I answer him quietly, and he smiles in reassurance.
"They'll be fine. I might be back here for a few months anyway. It seems like we get one thing handled, and something else pops up."
Harrison's words feel ominous, at least to me. We lapse into comfortable silence while we eat, and every so often, I feel him sneak a peek at me. When I do look up, he smiles.
Warmly.
"You're doing okay? You promise? Because if he's not behaving, I can take care of him. He might be in charge, but Eric still has to listen to some of us." He threatens Eric cheerfully, even though he isn't here. "I'm keeping my eye on him. I just want to make sure you're happy. Nothing else matters to me. The minute he pisses you off, you let me know. I've smacked him in the head before and I'll do it again."
I can't help but smile back. "Thanks. I'm really good. Eric is…there's a lot more to him than anyone thinks. It's got to be weird for him to have someone here."
"Oh, it is. He looks happy, though. From what I've heard, he's pretty content with you being in Dauntless. Seems to be scowling less per hour."
"You know I only know him because I bumped into him? This whole thing started when I walked into him in Amity," I confess this out of nowhere, wondering if Harrison thought I knew Eric from a time before. "Given the circumstances, and my arrest, it's working out just fine."
Harrison smiles even wider.
We both know the arrest is bullshit, and my name on the paperwork isn't even my name now.
"Something tells me you won't have much to deal with in terms of the arrest," he winks, but Lucy shows up to ask if he wants the check. They talk for a few minutes, catching up on how things are going, and Harrison looks pleased with whatever she's telling him.
I keep eating. I take a few more bites of spaghetti, and I stop only when my phone beeps.
Eric's message is a bummer, but I understand.
I return to watching Harrison insist Lucy bring him some bill, and I quietly inform him Eric said the fear landscapes will stretch on into the afternoon.
Which is fine.
It means I can stay here with Harrison, slowly finishing lunch, and enjoying the time before he returns to Amity.
Harrison walks me home.
I want to ask him if he still has an apartment here, but I'm sure he does. It's unlikely he's permanently moved everything he owns to Amity, and even less likely he'd make such a rash decision so quickly. He talks about anything and everything while we take the stairs, and I listen to every single word.
He's done a lot in his time here.
He explains how the missions are broken up, how soldiers can put their name in for routes that are more dangerous to advance their standing in the faction. He gives me a few glimpses into Eric's job, explaining Eric is the most preferred contact for the factions. He is direct and blunt and doesn't buy into the faction politics. He doesn't have any patience for behind the scenes drama, and most leaders appreciate this. He goes on to say the Dauntless alliance with Erudite is currently shaky, and Eric's disinterest in the faction is strangely personal.
But still expected.
Harrison lets it slip Eric is going there in a few days, and it will likely take up his entire schedule.
"Will you be here tomorrow?"
We come to a stop in front of Eric's apartment, and I wait for Harrison to assure me he will. I'm hoping he is, because maybe we could have breakfast, and he could tell me more about Eric.
"I'm heading back to Amity now. I just swung by to see Max. I'd like a few more soldiers if he can spare them." Harrison rocks back on his heels and he looks down at me. "Will you be okay until Eric is back? I can stay if you want, but I promised your mother I'd help her make dinner."
Their normalcy, though probably strange given the circumstances, is heartwarming. I like seeing him dedicated to her, and I like knowing he's going back to a full house. While odd for Paisley and Holly, and probably confusing for Leif and Wesley, it's not hard to like Harrison.
"I'll be fine. I think I might lie down and take a nap. Try to forget about severed fingers and bleeding heads," I half joke, but I'm hoping the memory fades quick. "Thank you for lunch."
"Anytime."
He hugs me goodbye. I've grown to dislike these hugs, though I know they don't bring much permanency. I just don't want him to leave, even though I know I'll see him again soon.
It takes Harrison a long time to let go. I watch him head down the hallway silently, and the urge to yell that I won't be okay until Eric is back is strong.
In the end, I don't give in to it.
I wait until he reaches the end of the hallway, and he turns back to look at me. We both wave at each other, neither moving, until his phone rings. I watch him head into the elevator, disappearing behind heavy silver doors, and then he's gone.
I pretend him leaving doesn't bother me, right up until the second I do fall asleep, dreaming of bloody fingers and loose eyeballs.
"What are you afraid of?"
In the evening, I sit on the edge of the roof with my feet dangling down. The night sky is dark, like a graveyard for the few stars hanging on and the occasional cloud drifting by. The sight is lovely but discouraging. Another storm means even colder weather, and less of a chance for sunny skies.
"What am I afraid of? Or what was I afraid of?" Eric stands behind me.
He's still dressed in his uniform from earlier, but his hair is less perfect. There's a hint of stress to him; it lingers in his posture, now slightly slumped, and his hair, wrecked from running his hands through it. He'd spent the afternoon with the initiation class, and the evening with Jeanine. Unable to escape her since she was physically here, he hadn't returned until now.
I'd come up here with Rylan on some mission to find Jason, but Rylan left the second his phone rang. He yelled at me not to fall off the roof or Eric would kill him, then swore he'd be right back.
"Both."
I stare up at the sky, pulling my arms in closer, and I wonder if he'll answer me. Secrets were his thing, and I was starting to understand why. It wasn't just the mystery of not wanting to tell someone, or the aura of disinterest. They kept him safe. Invincible. Indestructible. The less you knew about a person, the less ammunition you had against them. You could ask and demand whatever from him, but it was his choice to answer.
I was finding him to be very selective with what he'd reveal.
The silence of his non-answer spans an entire minute. I can feel him behind me, staring at the back of my head, and when I think he's about to walk away, he speaks.
"Failure. The shame that goes along with it." Eric's answer is thin, but honest. He takes a step closer, reaching for me so I don't fall to my death. "Being forced to live in Abnegation."
That particular answer is humorless.
I crane my head up to look at him, and he's unsmiling.
"Death without purpose. The usual."
"What about other things? Spiders? The dark? Clowns?"
"I'm surrounded by clowns. I have no reason to fear them," he retorts, and he's behind me before I can blink. He sits down easily, then pulls me back against him. "I don't have any reason to fear the dark. Why are you asking?"
"I'm just curious. I was wondering what mine would be," I think out loud, not sure if I truly want to know. "Has anyone not made it through their fear landscape?"
"A few," he answers distractedly, dropping his head down to rest against mine. "Why? You want to go through one? I'm sure Lauren would love to inject you and see what you're made of."
"No thanks," I shake my head, and my foot slips from the side of the building for one dizzying moment. I flash back to CJ's fear landscape, and his slide down a building while his skin scraped away to the bone. "Do I have to? In order to stay here?"
"No." He mutters, and his fingers press wherever they can. I ditched the uniform jacket the minute I could. I found one of Eric's hoodies shoved back in his closet, and I threw it over my shirt. It smelled like him, or what one would imagine he smelled like. Dark, rich, aloof. Also like whatever Carol had washed it in. "If you want to, you can. Some people like to revisit them to see if they've changed."
"Have yours?" I lean back into the solidness of him, feeling the heavy exhale of his sigh. "Yeah?"
"I haven't gone through one in forever. I'm sure if I did, it would be different." He pauses when my fingers touch his, and I press the same way he likes to. "More…personal and less…"
"Impersonal?" I guess, and he laughs.
It's strange to hear such normal reactions from him. This past week has shown me his emotions run quite the gamut. Sometimes he was furious, and sometimes he was less furious.
It was never aimed at me.
I was slowly discovering he struggled to separate how he acted, no matter how hard he tried.
"Eric…" I wait for him to nod, and the temperature changes. The slow burn of the cold increases, then seems to drop when his mouth brushes against my cheek. "Did you marry me and not tell me?"
His nod is immediate.
"I knew it," I shake my head in triumph, and I can feel him grinning. "I thought I told you I was never marrying anyone."
"It's for safety purposes. You'll just have to trust me on this one. Besides, you're too young, remember?" He teases right back, and his words fizzle into the dark. "I can keep you safe. No one else can. No one else even tried. And don't even pretend you can keep yourself out of trouble."
"I don't think anyone would believe me even if I could," I confess, and the stars above us grow brighter. It might be my eyes playing tricks on me, or maybe I'm still mentally tired from watching the simulations. "Were you ever going to tell me? Or was I supposed to figure it out on my own?"
"I was going to tell you when you'd been here longer. So it didn't seem sudden," he answers my hair, and this exhale is just as heavy. "I didn't want you to think it was for the wrong reasons."
I wondered what he considered the right reasons for marriage.
A factional alliance, perhaps.
To stay out of danger.
Certainly not because of love.
"When did you do it?"
"The day after your arrest," he tries to keep the same serious tone in his voice, but it's thick with stress. "There was some interest in why you were fighting a guy in Amity. This way, if they tried to find you, they'd see you were in custody."
"They won't notice my name has been changed?" I point out, but he's distracting me. His mouth lingers below my ear, and he presses there until I squirm. "Eric!"
"They might. Or whoever's looking at it might be too dumb to realize it's you. Jeanine's assistants aren't the brightest."
"Does she know who I am? And why I'm here?" I gasp when he pulls me back violently, and I ready myself to fall right into the black abyss. "Shit."
"You're fine. I've got you," he promises, low and rich. "She does know who you are and why you're here. She's not happy, but seeing as how we've absorbed the Amity faction, there's not much she can do."
"So Dauntless has Amity now?"
"You could say that." He's not so distracted now. He pushes closer, kicking my foot with his. "Why are you up here? Did you get sick of being inside?"
The insult is hidden in his tone. I imagine he sometimes feels trapped here, stuck beneath heavy layers of Earth masquerading as armor, but it would feel personal if I did.
"Rylan asked if I wanted to go for a walk and help him look for Jason. He came up here and I decided to sit while he went inside. I think Christina called him," I slide my fingers back through his, winding them tightly in case he tries to let go. "It's nice out here. Cold, but sort of nice."
"You should be freezing," he reminds me, and we are both quiet as the wind howls. It's violent up here, thrashing against crumbling metal and ancient plaster, and I swear it shakes the very bones of the building. "Everly –"
"Do you think you'll ever fall in love with me? Maybe someday? If I can take you in a fight?" I interrupt him, but this is important. The paperwork I'd found was official. Officially official. My guess was if I wanted to leave, it would take more to dissolve this marriage than just saying goodbye and asking to move apartments. Eric had given me the permanence we both wanted, he just couldn't say it.
I would bet on a million falling stars, burning and fading before my very eyes, he wouldn't say it now.
"You want me to tell you I love you?" he answers thickly, lying through perfectly straight teeth. "It's only been…"
When he pauses, I feel the ache he can't voice. The timing of our relationship is questionably short. Sure, it spanned months. Weeks, when the mere thought of him kept me sane. Days, when the idea of seeing him made me dizzy. Minutes, when he was the only one concerned I'd live. It wasn't anywhere near long enough to announce he loved me, but mostly because he had no clue how.
Asking someone whose entire existence is rooted in blood and abandonment was only asking for trouble.
It's a risk I'm willing to take.
"What if I can take you in a fight? Will you admit it then? For the…the sanctity of our marriage?" I say this quietly, happy when he lets out of a huff of exasperation. His fingers tighten on mine, curling into cold skin.
He tilts his head back to rest on mine, heartbeat after heartbeat, until the silence encompasses us both.
"Yes."
The darker side of Eric is not the violent one.
It's not the one who rules his faction by day and hunts Divergents by night, but the one who cannot bring himself to admit he actually feels things. To him, human emotion is the ultimate weakness. I see this as he lies beneath me, the barest hints of his mother sneering when my fingers graze the sharp cut of his cheekbone, and the easy detachment of his father when he swats my hand away.
Tonight, he does not want anything soft or kind.
After confessing there was the potential for him to be in love, he'd all but dragged me into his apartment. There was a blur of fabric as he yanked the hoodie over my head, and his fingers pried the waistband of the leggings away. He was impatient at best; the long sleeved shirt –a nod to Lauren who loathed my very guts –was discarded without care. My underwear was kicked to the side, covering a pair of boots waiting to be selected.
He was fast and hungry, eager to show me he didn't have to care to like me.
Oh, but he did.
Even as his fingers dig into my hips, moving on their own while my head falls back, he can't help but keep his eyes on me. His stare is intense, but indulgent. He likes this view, me on top of him, him buried deeply inside, not giving a single fuck that Arlene had failed to call either one of us. He liked the idea of us together, a tiny family in a roar of men and women bred to outdo each other. It doesn't take a genius to realize he wants all of this, the lust and the glory and my fingers lightly skimming over his lips, right along with him and me away from everyone.
"I should get off you," I mumble, and my own thoughts are a blur. My mind tries to remind me of the important things: no birth control, no condoms, not even a single mention of his upcoming orgasm, currently threatening with each tense of his thighs.
A bigger part of me told it to shut up.
The part that wanted him to love me, that realized I could stay here forever, proving my place as a soldier and his wife, knew it wouldn't be enough if he couldn't admit he cared about me on a deeper level.
He was trying.
I might have been asking too much in this moment. A declaration of love wasn't what I'd ever meant to ask for, but he'd helped me down off the roof and held me in front of him, and I saw it. The confusion fading away to reveal something more than lust, more than basic, fleeting affection, more than marrying me to keep me away from Jeanine. I hadn't pushed any of it, because I didn't need to.
The rough way he pulled me on top of him said everything I needed to know, right along with the way his fingers touched my jaw.
"Don't fucking move."
He grunts this at me, his eyes half hooded and his lip between his teeth as he fights off the urge to give in. His hands move from my hips to my waist, up my ribcage, over the swell of my breasts. He stays there, fingers splayed while his hips move to a sloppily rhythmic pace, and he lowly hisses my name.
Everly sounds different these days.
He moves his hand between my legs, and my groan mirrors his.
"Say it. Say my name," he demands, like there was someone else before him. There wasn't. He's the only person I've ever done this with and he knows it. The very idea makes him pleased, stroking harder, then softer, watching my reaction closely. "Aren't you going to say you love me?"
My eyes open, expecting a smirk or a lingering sneer, but instead, he's watching me with parted lips. He leans up, the muscles in his chest tightening and his shoulders tensing, and he tears his hand away to grasp me by the hair. I'm pulled forward, but the feeling of him is still too good to think of anything else.
"Do I love you?" I ask against his lips, barely able to form coherent thoughts. "Is that what you want to hear?"
He doesn't answer me. He holds on tightly, grasping fistfuls of hair as I gasp his name, and he knows what he's doing.
"Come on, Everly. Stop playing around," he is smirking now, and he lets go to move one hand to my throat. He stays there, somehow less affected by this than I am, and his smile is triumphant when my eyes close. "So pretty."
I pay no attention to him.
I give in to the sensation of the world exploding. The drunk feeling of him groaning my name in a desperate way, and his hands tightening. I give in to the white lights, the whisper of his name slipping from my lips over and over, and his low and oh so quiet hiss asking if I'm alright.
I am alright.
I'm better than alright.
I feel alive, burning and on fire with the realization that not only would I be just fine here, but that Eric Coulter wanted me to love him, if only so he could love me.