A/N: Hello everyone! Glad you enjoyed the last chapter! Kind of related to Guest's review for last chapter, we do start to see a bit more of how Cain's mind works in terms of how she sees herself in this chapter, as well as a bit of Eric interaction - but also a mention of Cain's background. It's going to get dark before it gets better, but we'll definitely be seeing more of Eric in the next 5 chapters or so. Hope you enjoy and please R&R!

Disclaimer: No Divergent, no Eric :(

I took theshot.

It wasn't perfect by any means. My hands had still shook when I squeezed the trigger, I hoped more from the weight of the gun in my arms than fear, but the bullet had hit the target on a ring that was closer to the centre than the outer rings. It had been the best first shot out of everyone, and despite knowing I held a weapon of death in my hands, I couldn't help but let out a shaky laugh.

Four's hand on my shoulder squeezed in what I assumed was pleasure at my having done well. He left me, and I couldn't help but feel a little colder and a little lost without him. I may have been the slowest shooter in the history of Dauntless, but I managed to keep hitting the target, taking my time to ignore the sounds from my friends around me, to ignore the phantom stinging in my body. My aim got better as my breathing flattened out, and after a couple hours of us shooting, I had managed to hit dead centre. It was once, but it still happened. I thought back to Eric's words, of only wanting the best at Dauntless as we headed for lunch, and as I spotted the back of his shaved head, I vowed to make sure he knew I was the best, even if I died trying.

The day flew by, and I was once again walking through the corridors of Dauntless on my own. To celebrate our first couple days, my friends and some of the Dauntless-born had managed to hijack an entire chocolate cake. River and Johnny, who were always with us when we were mixed, had spent most of lunch and dinner talking about the cake, how it was the best thing to eat around Dauntless and that we all had to try some. I had pretended to have a stomach ache, not wanting to make it worse with any sugar, but in reality I was terrified of the idea of eating cake, in front of others. I hadn't been allowed any sweet treats in a couple years, my mother obsessed with the idea that I would become dependent on it and obese. My mouth had watered at the sight of it and yet I felt sick and clammy at the thought of eating that thing around others; what if someone made a comment about it, how I didn't need it, and everyone else would see what they saw and laugh? I knew it was stupid, but I couldn't get the feeling out of my head that it would somehow get leaked to my parents, and even from so far away my mother would make me feel like death for indulging myself.

I robotically made my way to the training room, doing it without thinking. I ran until I couldn't see straight, and then stumbled my way to the punching bags. These seemed to be my favourite. Like with rifle training, I got lost in the rhythmic sounds of my fist hitting the leather, my mind going blank as the pain oozed out of my knuckles. I supposed I should have been worried about the self-flagellation aspect of this, but I was too lost to care. My arms still ached from everything I had done that day and the day previously, but it had lost its bite and actually had become a pleasant feeling, as though I could feel not only the weight transforming into muscle, but the sound of my mother's voice about my 'mothering arms' falling off me as well.

"Initiates aren't meant to be in here after hours."

I won't lie and say I gave a rather un-Dauntless like shriek at the sound of the voice in the room. I spun around on my heels, my hair whipping me in my face, and my eyes widened at the sight of Eric watching me from his spot leaning against the door frame.

"S-Sorry," I choked out, "I didn't know. I was just trying to… I'll go," I finally said, not wanting to mention exactly what made me come here to him, but knowing no excuse would go by Eric either. He held a hand up as I started to move away, and I froze in place. He stalked towards me, his stomping footsteps echoing in the cavernous room.

He stopped right in front of me. I had to crane my neck up to see him properly, not wanting to take my eyes off him in case he saw it as a sign of weakness. His face gave nothing away, just his eyes watching me like a hawk.

"Your form is good, but you're losing focus in your swings. Keep your eye on where you want it to hit," he grunted. It took me a minute to realise he was giving me advice - Eric, fearless leader, was trying to help me.

Noticing that I hadn't moved, he grunted and spun me around, his hands enveloping my frame and moulding it into what he wanted. I took up my previous stance with his hands still on my shoulders. The warmth coming from him, the feeling was nothing like it had been with Four. I didn't even get reminded of the way my father had held me; I only felt strength, and warmth.

He guided my right arm slowly, showing me what he meant, and I started up again with my hits with his body against mine. It was hard to take his advice to heart; one, it was Eric, and two, I couldn't concentrate any better with him there. I heard his growl of frustration, and he fisted his hand into my hair to keep my head firmly in place, my eyesight watching my hands hit the bag. I felt a heat twitching in my abdomen, and took a second to breathe it out and ignore the way his fingers felt in my hair. After a while, I stopped focusing on it, growing accustomed to the feeling, and noticed how he slowly untangled himself from me as I kept punching. He took a step back, the cold air hitting my neck, but I kept going.

He left without saying a word, and I knew that I had done well. If i hadn't, I'm sure he would have had something to say about it. I continued for another hour, until I heard voices in the corridors again, and slipped away into my bed as my friends chattered around me. In the middle of the night, as Chris snored away near me and Sarah was curled up in a silent ball, I slipped out of bed and went for a shower, imagining that the hot water cascading down my back was Eric's hands.

I was lost in the feeling and the memory that had me feeling dirty and didn't notice another pair of feet pattering away against the wet floor.

"Hey, what are you -"

I stopped, my eyes flying open. I spun around again, for the second time that day being caught off guard - I realised quickly I hated that feeling. Sarah was standing there, a towel slung over her arm, shock-still and her eyes looking at me with unguarded pity. I knew what she had seen, what she was seeing. I hastily shut off the water, grabbing a towel to cover myself up. I hadn't wanted anyone to see, had tried my best to stay awake at night to shower and get up earlier than everyone to get dressed. I was frantic, panic setting in, and I didn't notice until her calloused hands from working in the fields covered mine, stilling them over the towel. I couldn't look her in the eyes, see that pity again.

"Cain, are you okay?"

I shut my eyes, nodding, hoping she would go away. "Who did this to you?"

I kept nodding, the only thing I could do in that moment to stop the shame and fear washing over me, to stop the tears coming. They didn't stop, for Sarah wrapped her arms around me, not caring that I was getting her pyjamas wet, and we both slid to the floor, me crying in her arms and her soothing voice telling me it would be ok. She stroked my hair with a feather-light touch, and for a second I pretended it was my mother. That thought brought me back to life, and I opened my eyes and tilted my head up.

"Cain," she whispered softly. "You're covered in bruises. I swear I saw a scar - you don't have to tell me what happened," she said, noticing that I was starting to panic again. "Just, tell me you're safe. You're safe here."

I didn't understand why she cared. She was my friend yes, maybe more so than the others here, but I couldn't grasp my head round what she was asking. My confusion seemed to show, and she spoke.

"No one here did this to you, right?" Her eyes were shining with unshed tears. I shook my head, and she seemed to sag against me in relief.

"Promise me you won't say anything," I whispered, my voice cracking. She nodded, her arms around me tightening.

The next morning, Sarah awoke with me, helping me to change under the covers so no one else could see. I knew it wouldn't be long until the bruises and marks faded, but there would still be some signs left of my previous life on my body. But, I was thankful I knew she would keep her promise. She would help me, for nothing else other than she was my friend. I spent the morning run next to her, encouraging her to keep up with me and Chris who had gotten used to the runs quicker than anyone else. I would try my best to help her stay, and she would help me stay sane. I had found my friends, laughing along with Johnny and Matthew in the mess hall, the three girls chatting away about the guys they thought were attractive, and I found myself for once not watching everyone, not looking over my shoulder, but maybe, at some level of peace.