A/N: Thank you for the great response to the last chapter! I'm hoping to keep writing a few chapters ahead and keep up this upload schedule, although I've just gotten a new job so the next month might be a bit different! Thanks to Mari and Guest for the reviews - glad you're liking Eric and Cain so far Mari! Hope this chapter doesn't make you change that lol. Guest, nah it's not an offensive question, I'd say Cain is slightly above the average weight but remember that she's quite small so the distribution of her weight does look different than it might do on someone who is taller, also her views on herself has been distorted by her mother and now by the other initiates so I'd also say it's a very mental thing.

Again, I've changed up the timeline a bit which you'll start to see from here on out. Glad you're all enjoying it and please let me know what you think of this chapter!

Disclaimer: I don't own Divergent or anything you recognise

"Rise and shine Initiates!"

I awoke with a shriek and almost fell off the bed. Somehow I had managed to drift off for a few hours until Four had come in and shaken us all up by banging a metal pipe against an empty bed frame to wake us.

I watched groggily as the others all got up and started to get ready. Thankfully I had slept in my long sleeve shirt, and used the bedsheet to hide myself as I threw on a pair of leggings and then my basic workout trainers. I stepped into the bathroom and closed my eyes, hearing some of the others having showers while I brushed my teeth. It wasn't that I was a prude, I just knew if I had someone ogling me in the shower I wouldn't like it.

Not long later we were all in the training room, working on our punches. Four had us warm up by running laps until we were breathless, but I at least was happy that I had managed to keep up, and not even at the back of the pack. I was in between Chris and Matthew, trying my best to keep to the form Four had shown us. I could hear Paul and the two Candor transfers who had been glued to his side sniggering at something, but I tried my best to ignore it. Heat was rising to my cheeks and I could tell without looking I had gone beet red, but I kept trying. Matthew's words from the night before echoed in my mind, and if I turned to watch as my friends hit the punching bags, I could have seen that they seemed to be suffering the pain in their knuckles far more than I was.

"You call that a punch Initiate?"

I had no idea when Eric had joined us but I recognised his voice immediately, the sneer on his face evident through his words. I briefly glanced over to the far side, where Eric was busy berating Paul for his sloppy form. I could see that the former Erudite was having a problem with someone insulting his intelligence, and honestly I felt an animalistic glee in my chest at the sight. Sooner than I expected, Eric walked away from Paul, and bypassed Flint and Callum who were cowering at the thought of him starting on them. He stopped right behind my small group, his eyes on our backs. I continued as I had, putting even more effort into my hits than I was before in the hopes I wouldn't get picked on.

"It seems some of you should have taken a leaf out of Second Jumper's book here and bulked up before you got here."

I felt my cheeks burn at the thinly-veiled insult and continued punching, the pain radiating up from my knuckles helping me to focus. I wouldn't say I was used to anything in regards to my weight, I wouldn't think anyone would be, but I bit down on my lip to help keep myself grounded. Crying in front of Eric I was sure would be a punishable offence. I felt the hairs on the back of my sweaty neck prick up as he stepped towards me. His large and muscled body was practically against my back, and I could feel the heat coming off him. A breath hitched in the back of my throat and for the first time, I was truly afraid of what Eric might do.

"You're slowing down, Initiate. Not eat enough this morning? I would have bet you could fit more than a stiff in that mouth of yours."

Hell to that. I wasn't upset anymore, though I could still feel that telltale prick of tears in my eyes. But it wasn't fear; it was anger. Eric's words seemed to affect me more than anyone's had in my life, even my mother, but I didn't feel the need to hide away. I was angry, livid, and I suddenly imagined it was his face in the punch bag and felt myself put more weight into my punches, pummeling his imaginary face with all the strength I had. The chain holding the bag groaned, and with a final punch into Eric's smug, prick face, it hit the ground with a booming thud.

Everyone froze. You could have heard a pin drop in that room. Even Four was silent, having watched our interaction from the sidelines. I didn't dare lift up my eyes from the punch bag that was lying dead on the floor, my chest rising with my panting breath and abating anger.

"Drop and give me twenty." Eric's voice came through the silence, slicing it like a knife. It was a voice I hadn't heard from him, but recognised from my father. That quiet, violent voice that promised unspeakable things.

I did as asked; I wiped my sweaty palms on my legs, and dropped to the floor. I didn't dare question my form, knowing it probably wasn't correct but I wanted to get through this as quick as possible. I huffed through my teeth, my arms already aching from my punches and looking down, I could see the skin on my knuckles had been torn slightly from the friction against the punching bag. I pushed up, trying not to let my body sag against the floor but knew it was coming anyway. Chris was shifting from foot to foot next to me, as if getting ready to help me if I collapsed.

I felt a weight added to my back, and a loud groan came out of my mouth before I could stop it. The heels of the boot dug into my back, adding to the pain I was feeling. Eric's foot was right next to a spot that was still healing from before Choosing Day, and I prayed in my head that he didn't move.

"Keep going Initiate. You aren't to stop until I tell you. Or is the weight too much for you?"

Again, Eric didn't come out and say anything, but he didn't need to. I knew what he meant. If Paul had been brave enough, I'm sure he would have laughed in cruel agreement of Eric's displeasure at what he must have thought was a waste of an Initiate to Dauntless. My arms were shaking and my hands were slipping against the concrete floor; I didn't know how long I could go on for, and I hadn't been keeping count but I wouldn't put it past Eric to make me keep going past the twenty push-ups he had asked for.

Eric pressed down harder on my back, and it seemed my prayers would go unanswered. He shifted his foot, and the hard boot dug into the injury on my back. I cried out in pain, my arms wobbling and I was terrified at what might happen if I fell.

"That too rough for you? I said keep going!" he cried. I groaned again, and lowered myself to the floor, pushing with whatever strength I had left but I was struggling with the weight of him pushing down. My vision was going black around the edges, and for a brief moment I wished I had stayed in Erudite and faced the pain there instead of this one.

"That's enough Eric. If you end up killing her before ranking starts, you'll have to answer to Max for it," Four finally piped up, walking towards us. I stayed in my plank position, the elbow of my right arm dipping slightly. My eyes closed in satisfaction when I felt Eric lift off me, and I crumbled to the floor, coughing up a lung as crisp air met my spent lungs. I didn't hear the rest of Eric and Four's conversation, focusing more on pushing away the pain that was rushing around my body. I felt arms help drag my body up and place me against the cold wall of the training room. Four came into view, pushing a bottle of water towards me. His brow was furrowed, making his eyes seem darker. "Take a minute," he finally said, watching as I drank the water greedily. "I don't want to see you slacking." I think he meant it in a nice way, a way of helping me feel better about what had happened, but I don't think even Eric apologising on his knees would have helped any. I nodded, the best I could do to respond, and focused on breathing in and out and not passing out as he walked away. Chris and Sarah were both watching me, and I just about waved them away to say I was fine. Needless to say, when I was finally able to stand again and make my way to a fresh punching bag, I absolutely sucked. But Four never came and said anything, just watching me quietly as I tried not to withdraw completely in my head.

I didn't care when Chris snaked an arm around my waist to help me walk to the mess hall for lunch that afternoon. I felt drained and horrible, cold sweat sticking to me. He left me at a table and he, Sarah, Matthew and even Tara surrounded me like an impenetrable wall of people. My heart, as tired as it was, soared slightly at their protectiveness. No one dared mention what happened, we just ate in silence. I tried my best to fill myself up, but Eric's words and the feeling of his boot on my back kept coming back and making me feel sick. I slowly spooned some chicken and rice into my mouth, not even feeling the taste of them. I was basically a robot; my aching arm spooning food into my mouth, chewing it in response and swallowing the tasteless mush and doing it all over again.

Four made us run laps for the rest of the day, to start improving our stamina during our training. I didn't care this time that I was at the back, barely registering what was going on around me. I felt someone bump into me, and looked to see Four watching me cautiously. He had slowed down to keep pace with me as everyone else was up in front of us. He didn't say anything for a while. The company was nice actually, and I felt some semblance of strength come back to me and slowly I felt myself straighten my back and run slightly faster. Not fast enough to catch up to everyone, but I noticed that Four had picked up the pace as well and I felt better for it.

"You shouldn't let him get to you so much."

I turned my head slightly to watch him. His mouth was in a line, and it was obvious he wasn't happy with what had happened.

"You say that like it's easy," I huffed. My lungs were still burning, and it hurt to talk. Four inclined his head in response.

"It's not, but if you want him to leave you alone, you need to show that it doesn't get to you, and just focus on getting through training."

I shifted focus to look forwards again, mulling over his words. Again, what Matthew had said to me at dinner sprang back.

"Do you think it might be my advantage?"

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Four smirk slightly, and I was genuinely shocked to see any emotion other than indifference or annoyance on his face. His eyes met mine for a second, and he looked away again.

"Put it this way. Eric might have made some, choice comments," he gritted his teeth. "But he wasn't wrong. Unless initiates trained in secret before they came here, most won't have thought about building muscle mass or just putting on weight. Most of the factions don't even eat meat, or at least enough to be helpful. Out of everyone here, you're in the best position."

We finally came to a stop, and walked the few feet that were left before meeting up with the rest of the group. Four gave me a last look. "You put in the work, keep doing what you're doing, I don't doubt you'll be the best fighter here."

I thought about those words all night, and I finally felt my eyes close and fall into a deep, peaceful sleep, the first I had since finding out I was meant to be Dauntless.

It was after our run the next morning when Eric showed his face again in the training room.

"You will have two weeks to build yourselves up into our expectations of Dauntless," he said smugly, the only emotion other than terror I had seen him convey. "Then you will start on your ranked stages. There are three stages; physical, emotional and mental. Anyone who doesn't get into the top fifteen in each stage gets cut."

Emmie, whose stupidity was showing more and more by the day, spoke up. "What do you mean, cut? Like, we go back home?" Her voice trailed off. Eric sneered at her.

"Cut as in cut. No going home, no returning to any life you knew. You'll be factionless if you can't make it here."

I froze. I felt the familiar white-hot fear coursing through my body. I made the decision, the terrifying decision, to disobey my family, ruin everything, and if I wasn't cut out for it in Dauntless, I would have nothing. And then they could find me.

It was Tony this time who spoke up. He had largely ignored me since our first encounter on the train tracks, preferring to stay with the people he knew.

"Why didn't anyone tell us this before? This doesn't seem like a normal rule."

Eric marched into Tony's face, the chiseled cheekbones of what could be an attractive face contorting into a fearsome one.

"Would that have made you choose differently, Initiate? Stay at home with Mummy where it's safe? This is Dauntless," he looked around, meeting our eyes. His stayed on mine for a second longer. "We only take the best."

It was like his eyes pierced into the very recesses of my soul, churning up all those doubtful feelings I had about myself and brought them to the surface. I tried so hard to focus on my breathing, to not give anything away that he could see and pick on. It seemed to work, or maybe he just didn't care, because as soon as he was there, he was gone again. The whole room took a collective sigh, almost as if the air was lighter and fresher without him there. I briefly thought back to my original thoughts about him. Yes, he was a real man. But also a terrifying one, and my original hormone-fuelled thoughts seemed childish now.

Four told us that today, instead of working on our punches and building muscle, we'd have a go at rifle training and end the day with some weight training. It wasn't until we were up on the roof, Four handing each of us a rifle, that I felt my hands shake. I hadn't ever touched a rifle, any gun of any sort, but I knew the sounds it made and the feelings it brought. We spent ten or so minutes learning how to take it apart and put it back again, each time going faster and faster. I think I did alright, losing myself in the methodical nature of the task. Eventually I got there, one of the fastest to memorise the ways the different parts clicked together and came together as one. Holding it seemed to make the weight less of a struggle, and the overall thought of using one less fearful. Until Four started showing us how to shoot it.

"I want everyone watching how I do it, I'm not going to show you again," he said, lining his body up in what I'm sure was second-nature to him. Standing his feet shoulder-width apart, I started mimicking him as he went through the motions, hoping once again that detaching the method from the action itself would soothe me.

The sound of the piercing gunshot did not soothe me in the slightest.

My shaking hands returned, my breathing erratic as the sound bounced around my head, memories of the sound and my cries after it echoing. I was standing perfectly still, hearing the shots around me and I was the only one who hadn't fired yet.

"You're going to be ranked on this Cain. The target isn't going to come to you," Four said from behind me. I was glad our spots on the roof were spaced out, and the sounds of gunshots easily drowned out conversation unless you were right next to each other. I tried to focus on the warmth coming from Four, but I then kept imagining Eric behind me like he had been yesterday, and it didn't help me feel more comfortable. He placed a hand on my shoulder, not unlike how my father had done at the Choosing Ceremony, but I felt less malice behind it and more of a weight for my shooting arm.

"Deep breath in, tune out the sounds, and keep your thoughts on the target in front of you."

I followed Four's advice. Breathing in, breathing out. I did this for five counts, then opened my eyes that I hadn't realised I'd shut, and let an unnatural calmness take over me.

I took the shot.