A/N: Another chapter! I'm hoping by posting chapters so often and writing a fair bit I'll be able to keep up a good posting schedule when I start my new job in the next couple weeks and do better with this story than my other ones lol. Like I said in the last chapter, it's only going to get darker for Cain until it gets better - I want her transformation from who she was at the beginning to be real and not rushed, and to have her be a relatable character with her faults and flaws. So there is a minor trigger warning for this chapter of a sticky situation Cain will find herself in - but there's also plenty of bonding moments for her. I've also decided not to include the Divergents in this story, so I've now included in the summary that this story will be a bit A/U. Thank you Mari for the last review! Please tell me what you think of this one!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognise.

That peace was disturbed on the tenth day at Dauntless. I had showered early again, Sarah next to me keeping an eye out for anyone walking in, but also because she had started enjoying our routine together. Grab a shower, get changed, go for a quick run around the compound, meet everyone for breakfast and then get started on our day. She rarely asked me questions about what she had seen, and I liked that she respected my privacy. She was a lot leaner than me, and being taller meant she had trouble moving quickly as Four began to teach us some fighting moves, so I made sure to help her out when I could.

We would often spar with each other, hoping by fighting against me she could get used to fighting someone who had more weight against her, and I could practice fighting someone who was a lot taller than me. We didn't do it seriously, so I wondered whether it was a help, though I noticed myself getting slightly quicker every day.

Not that I could say I had extra 'weight' anymore. Despite us only being there for ten days, already I could see the changes in my body. I eyed myself in the mirror in the showers for a quick second and then looked away; I still had my hips and my large thighs, but they had been toned out. My body didn't jiggle as much as it had done, and instead of feeling soft and plush, it felt hard with muscles that had quickly developed from the fat that was already there and my nightly exercises. Eric hadn't come to find out if I was still going to the training room at night, which I think I was thankful for, but it still worked in my favour. I still felt a shiver of disgust at the sight, but I could look in the mirror. That in itself was a change.

We had spent the morning sparring, as we had now started doing, and were spending our afternoon working on our knife throwing skills. Our training for the first step of initiation would be over soon - too soon, I thought despairingly - and then we'd have two weeks for our first stage. I tried my best to ignore the scoreboard in the training room, but with everyone else talking about it, it was hard not to eye my name in glaring red. Despite my growing strength, my scores in shooting and knife skills were throwing me off. I still felt nervous holding the gun, and it took me longer than most to squeeze out a shot, even though it would end up better than most of the others. The Dauntless-born dominated the leader board, with Chris, Paul and even Matthew ranking above in the transfer class. Sarah was two spots ahead of me with a Dauntless-born named Alecks in-between us, with Tara, Emmie, Flint, Callum and I making the bottom of the board. I knew if it came down to it, Tara and Emmie would be gone, but I didn't want to see the shy Amity girl factionless. Emmie I didn't care for, and I felt an unnatural happiness at the thought of Flint and Callum factionless. Johnny was at the top of the scoreboard, beating his friends and peers, but he was the nicest guy about it. River, our other friend, not so much; she was envious of the other five people above her. I wished I had the audacity to be unhappy at making the cut.

I steeled myself once again and kept on with my breathing exercises, before releasing the small knife in my hand. It hit the centre of the torso of the dummy I was practicing on, and I felt a cold sweat drip down my back at the thought that no matter how well I did, my nerves would get the best of me and I'd end up factionless.

To me, being factionless meant death, but not in the way it might be for the others. It meant being unprotected, from strangers but also my parents. No one would care if a factionless girl went missing, no one would bat an eye if she was taken by some Erudite members in the middle of the night. I had heard the whispers amongst my peers at school, how there were stories of people taken and never seen again outside of the shining blue tower in the middle of the faction. Everyone knew there was something going on, and I didn't want to find myself in the middle of that. I'd already had enough of being someone else's lab rat; I would rather Eric put a bullet in my head.

Speaking of Eric, I hadn't been able to forget our last encounter despite trying to force myself to. Every time I stepped into the warm shower, knowing Sarah had my back in there and I could, for once, let my guard down. My mind would flash back to feeling his hands on me, his chest against my back, and my mind would wander. I wasn't a prude; I had fantasised about people before, faceless people, thinking of situations I had only read about when I hid away in the library, or things I had overheard in secret whispers amongst a group of hormonal teenagers. I wasn't a stranger to sex; it was, after all, natural - as the Erudite put it, only thinking of the logic behind it and wanting to produce smarter and smarter offspring. Sex with Eric was something I had to physically not think about, but every time I slithered away to the training room, my fists against the punch bag, it was all I could think about. And I hated him for it.

I couldn't tell how ten days had gone so fast. It felt like a lifetime ago that I was back in Erudite, only leaving the house to go to school and coming home like a dog with its tail between its legs, constantly afraid. I was still afraid here; I had suddenly developed nightmares, most likely from the constant stress I was under and the reminder of gunshots. Sarah had crawled into my bed the moment she heard my sniffling and rocked me into silence.

I didn't need the added pressure of Paul on my back about me crying as well as everything else. His dislike of me had increased tenfold since we had arrived; he pushed into me at any given opportunity, joining in with Eric's taunting of my body whenever the leader wasn't around. Tony on the other hand had completely ignored me, his kindness to me forgotten as if it never happened. His Erudite eyes, watching people and analysing their every move had only gotten sharper, more keen.

It was a few hours before dinner, our day ended after our last lap around the training room. I still ignored the scoreboard, knowing it wouldn't matter yet until the proper ranking started in a few days. I had told Sarah that I was going for a shower, and I would see her and the others later in the Pit. She had jokingly said that if I wasn't back in an hour, she would come find me.

Like I had done every night since, I thought about Eric in the shower. How he'd tower over me, how his hands would feel on other parts of my body. I knew it was stupid to think like this; not just because he didn't like me, but I didn't think I liked him. It was just a very calming activity, and soothed my frazzled nerves. It seemed I was destined to keep repeating my mistakes.

I didn't hear the other person walk into the room.

I didn't hear their feet against the floor, more silent than Sarah had been.

The way their body was almost an inch away from mine.

I only noticed when they breathed down my neck, and a hand came over my mouth.

"I knew you'd look as disgusting without your clothes as you do with them on. Maybe everyone else will agree with me when they find you here."

It would only have been Paul who could have snuck up on me, despite his large size. He had filled out since we had arrived, not as much as Chris or even I had, and his still fairly lean size meant he could cross the length of the shower room without me noticing. My heart was a jackhammer, wanting to burst through my chest and scream for help. His other hand sneaked around my waist, holding my right arm down by my side. I tried my best to reach up and scratch at his face, his arm, anything I could get to, but he was far taller than I and his grip was starting to hurt. His hand was in no position for me to bite it either, so that meant screaming was out of the question.

A thought came to my mind suddenly. This would be my first fight in Dauntless, and no matter what, I had to win. I wasn't averse to dying - the idea of death being far up my list than being factionless - but dying at the hands of this coward, naked and alone, burnt a hole through me.

I settled for stomping my heel on his foot; he had stupidly kept his thin running shoes on, and I managed to hit a few toes, a spot I knew would hurt and would maybe give me a chance to move. His arm around me jerked, enough for my elbow to move past his and hit him in the gut. A loud exhale of air came out of him, but his grip on my face tightened. I felt his nails dig into my skin and I hoped he wouldn't leave a mark. I kept up my jabbing, the other arm trying to dig my nails into his arm to pry it off my face.

"Stupid bitch. You think you're stronger than me. You always thought you were better than the rest of us," he growled. If I had been in a normal situation with someone telling me this, I would have disagreed; I never thought myself better, never thought myself strong. I could just about look my face in the mirror, never once allowing Sarah to see my body again despite the fact she already had. Why did it matter to this lowlife what kind of person I was?

I growled my frustrations. Paul was too strong, too big. How could I ever face someone his size in the ring? My jabs had turned pitiful, my desire to win this waning. I didn't want to think about what he might do if I stopped.

His free hand suddenly grabbed my arm, twisting it behind my back in a submissive hold. Somehow he also managed to grab the ends of my hair in the same grip, dragging my head backwards. I shrieked from behind his hand; with his pushing me towards the shower wall, my shoulder felt like it was burning, my scalp feeling like it was being torn apart. But his hand was now directly over my mouth, with enough skin there for me to grab hold. In my building rage, I sank my teeth into the exposed skin, relishing in the way his screams echoed in the room. My mouth was finally free as he cradled his hand towards his chest, the puncture marks glowing from beneath the pooling blood. I must have looked like a wreck, blood on my mouth, red marks gripping my skin, naked and wild. I reared back my head, connecting with his and heard a sickening crunch as I was sure I had broken his nose. Twisting my body, I once again started jabbing elbows, hands, whatever I could to get him off me.

"You don't get to touch me," I seethed. I saw his eyes rake down my body, pausing at the scars that littered my stomach and the tops of my thighs. I don't know whether his eyes widened in fear, surprise or bloodlust.

Shouting erupted from outside the room. Johnny ran in, slipping in the water that was still running behind me. I tried my best to grab the towel as quickly as I could to cover myself, but others poured into the room before I could make sure I was fully covered. Sarah and Chris saw me and ran towards me, surrounding me like bodyguards. Even Four had entered the room, and to my utter surprise, Eric was amongst those also. His eyes were stuck on mine, and I shuddered at the thought that he had entered just as I was covering myself up.

"What the hell is going on here?" Four shouted, for once showing his emotions clear as day. He looked between Paul and I: me, supported by my friends, covered in only a towel and what I saw later was a distinct handprint on my face; Paul, alone, not even Tony or any of his cronies around him, holding his bleeding hand to his chest and the other hand over his nose. He was still fully dressed, and the black clothes stuck to his skin from the water.

"I was just coming in here for a shower, and the cunt attacked me! I didn't even touch her!" he started. I didn't stop the growl that escaped me; over my head, Chris gave Sarah a pointed look. Eric's eyes hadn't left me for one second, until Paul had said his bit.

"You mean a five-foot nothing girl waddled around, not even giving you a chance to undress, and broke your nose?" he asked, sounding like he was bored but I could see the glint of fury hidden in his eyes. He was as mad as I was at the utter bullshit Paul was spitting at me.

"She's a freak!" Paul screeched through the blood that was pouring down his face. "She's got scars and all sorts on her, I bet she's been trained in secret, ask her!"

My eyes widened and Four looked towards me; for once, I let the fear show in my face, and silently begged him not to ask.

Please don't ask.

"Getting an upper-hand before you arrive here is discouraged," Eric drawled, "but not forbidden. What is forbidden is attacking someone from behind, especially when they're not ready for it."

I snapped my gaze back to Eric at his words, for once actually surprised and not afraid of what he was saying. He was looking at me, a scowl on his face, but something unreadable too. Pride, maybe? I couldn't tell; I never could with Eric.

Four snapped into Instructor mode, grabbing Paul by the arm and hauling him out of the room. I hoped he would be punished for what he did; the thought of cameras in the room scared me, but at that moment I didn't care. I hoped someone would watch the tapes back and see what he did, but most importantly, see how I won.

I had won my first fight here, even if it wasn't ranked or sanctioned. I gave Eric a smile; my heart was racing, I felt so alive. He seemed shocked at my reaction, and his face fell back into his bored, mean state, and he barked orders for my friends to help me out before storming out of the steamy room.

"Jesus Cain. We leave you for five minutes and you go and scare the competition," Johnny said, filling the silence. I had forgotten how many of my friends were in the room, and felt the shakes hit my body. Sarah and Chris ushered everyone else out, promising they would bring me to the Pit once they had helped me. I sank to the floor, not caring that I was getting the towel wet, my legs just couldn't keep me up any longer. Sarah crouched next to me, her golden hair growing darker with the water. She brushed my wet, brown hair out of my face, her touch soft and kind. So unlike Paul's had been. Chris sat in front of me, like he was guarding me from view.

"You know he's going to come after you for that. A lot of them might," he said quietly. My eyes met his dark ones, filled with nothing but kindness and worry. How had I managed to gain friends like these. I grabbed Sarah's hand, squeezing it tight in thanks and I hoped she understood my meaning.

"Let them come, " she said, like she could read my mind.

"Let them," I spoke hoarsely. "I'm not afraid of them. I only wish I had hurt him more."

Chris laughed quietly. "You shouldn't have done that though, Cain. They know now you won't be an easy target."

"Maybe," I mused. "But they'll eventually learn not to underestimate me."

I tried to push myself up, but found I still needed Sarah's help with the shaking in my legs. My towel had slipped slightly, letting them both see the small scar on my thigh. The round, puckered bit of skin shone like a beacon, and both Chris and Sarah found it hard to look away. I found that I didn't mind it so much now. An idea popped into my head, and I smiled.

"Who's ready to become Dauntless?"

It wasn't long after I had dried myself off and stopped shaking that me and my friends made our way to the Pit. The mark on my face was slowly fading, but it was still obvious it was a handprint; there were small scars where Paul's nails had pierced the skin, and they stung when I moved my face. Matthew, Johnny, Tara, even River and some other Dauntless-born Initiates were waiting for us.

"Holy hell Cain, you look badass!" Johnny cried, raising an arm for a high-five. I met it with a small laugh, the action stretching the marks on my face and making me hiss in pain. Matthew had a frown, but drew an arm around me.

"You'll have to be a whole lot bigger and a whole lot more stupid than Paul to take you out."

Malachi and Jason, the Dauntless-born that had joined us, also high-fived me, saying it was the most awesome thing they had ever heard, but quietly said they knew some guys who could sort Paul out for me. I didn't know exactly why or when people had begun to take notice of me, or why they cared so much to offer me protection, but I found I didn't mind it. I joked back with them that I'd let them know about their offer, and they both gave me wide grins.

We made our way around the Pit; I had told the others of my ideas, and they had all agreed wholeheartedly to head to the tattoo parlours and hairdressers.

I cringed in the seat as the woman cutting my hair grabbed the back of my neck to push it down to continue her work, trying hard to forget about the feeling of Paul's hand in my hair. I heard the buzzing of the clippers, the snips of the scissors, and drowned it out, thinking how lucky I was to be alive in that moment. The lady cutting my hair was quiet, and every so often I could see her eyeing me in the mirror. Everyone must have known that stage one of initiation hadn't started yet, so no one would be fighting. She didn't seem to be looking at me with pity though. As she brushed off the hair that was sticking to me, she gave me a small smile and held up the mirror for me to look at her work.

"Normally people come in here with crazy ideas and colours. I like this though," she admitted. "It's simple, but a statement."

I grinned back at her, the stinging in my face not bothering me too much. I watched as she held the now shoulder length hair up, looking in the mirror behind me to see the undercut she had shaved in. She drew it up for me in a practiced bun, and I enjoyed the feeling of not recognising the person in the mirror. This person - she looked strong, fearless.

Dauntless.

I wouldn't let someone take me like Paul had; I wouldn't let someone dictate my choices for me, like my mother had. The next idea would be for my father, as a reminder of the shackles I escaped.

"What happened to your face?"

I recognised that voice immediately when I walked into the tattoo parlour. My friends were all there, not interested yet in changing their hair. Tori had walked in from the back after my friends were done playing with my new hair, and she had spotted me straight away. I thought back to how I'd felt when I first saw her, how she seemed to scream brave. I hoped I looked even the slightest bit close to that now to her.

"Some prick thought it would be fun to surprise her in the showers," Johnny came up behind me, scowling. He seemed to know Tori too. She eyed me, giving me a once over. "I hope he looks worse than you do."

I chuckled. "You bet he does."

She smiled at me, and once again I was transported to the day of my aptitude test, that feeling of motherly care washing over me when her eyes met mine. She nodded, and unlike with Eric I could see how proud she was.

"I was wondering if you could help me with something," I said cryptically. She pushed me towards a free chair, Johnny following me along. He was definitely a friend, I decided, remembering how he'd looked when he came into the showers to help me. I decided I didn't mind if he had seen my scars; even being here ten days, it seemed futile to keep being scared of them. To be scared at all.

I'd needed Johnny there in the end; Tori had traced round his hand, moulding the stencil around my shoulder. The feeling of the mat, not the way I had thought tattoos were done, felt odd against my skin, and then the pain started. Because I'd wanted the whole thing filled in, it took a bit longer than some of the smaller tattoos my friends were getting done. But when Tori took me to the mirror going down the wall of the dark room to have a look, it was perfect. A simple black hand was holding onto my shoulder; like my father had done, like Four had done, like Eric had done. My eyes roamed over my whole body, following the nape of my neck as I saw the shaved hair, the blackness against the white of my skin from the tattoo, the way my shoulders seemed to carry me higher, my legs stronger. I didn't recognise this girl; she was everything I wished I could be.

"What do you think?" Tori said, loud enough only I could hear. I met her eyes in the mirror and grinned.

"I don't think I'd be here if it wasn't for you," I admitted. Her face seemed different when she smiled, and I liked how it made me feel, knowing she was smiling at me.

"I think you would have made it here regardless," she said. "No matter what happened before, who you were before, you're here. You're Dauntless, and you were always meant to be."

I held my breath to stop the sniffle that wanted to escape, my vision blurring slightly as I tried to stop myself crying. "Will it ever go away?" I asked her, whispering. She cocked her head as if to ask a question. "That feeling, the fear of not deserving to be here. Not belonging."

Her hand fell onto my shoulder; Johnny's hand was larger than hers, but the contrast looked good against my skin.

"You made the first decision to step away from it. Now make sure you leave it behind."

Tori had left me soon after that to see another customer, before whispering words of good luck into my ear. I wished she had been my mother in another life, teaching me to be independent and strong. Following my friends out into the Pit and towards dinner, I watched each of them closely. Chris and Johnny both striding along, looking the part with their pierced ears and loud, obvious tattoos; Sarah's hair still swished as she walked along, but her walk was more confident than it had been before our runs; Matthew still looked slightly out of place, but standing next to River it looked like he could fit in, he was surprisingly good in most of our tasks; even Tara, who had pierced the whole outer shell of her left ear, wouldn't have seemed too out of place in Dauntless. I glanced at my reflection in the shop windows as we walked along. I grazed my hand along the underside of my skill, enjoying how the hair felt underneath my fingers and how even the slight nakedness of my head made my face balance out. My tattoo stood proud against my skin, having decided to change into a tank top to come down, and I smiled a small smile just for myself.

Johnny seemed glued to my side as he and the two Dauntless boys chose to sit with me at our table. Sarah was next to me, occasionally sending me a large grin and running her hand over the shaved part of my head, with Chris opposite her and Matthew, Tara and River making up the rest of the table.

"Look at him," Jason sniggered. I looked up from my plate, having lost myself in eating for the first time since I'd entered Dauntless, and saw their gaze was trained at a table not so far from ours. Paul looked terrible; his eyes had already started bruising, a small scrap of bandage over his swollen nose and his hand wrapped so Emmie was having to help feed him. It was certainly a sight to see, and everyone around me fell into fits of laughter.

"Told you didn't I, the mark of Cain! No one can walk away unmarked," Chris exclaimed. I didn't want him to shout it too loud in case the other Dauntless-born got ideas that I was doing well, or to get Paul and his lackeys on my back again. I met Tony's eyes across the hall, and found myself startled by the fury in them. I didn't realise he would take what had happened so badly, and I inwardly cringed at the sight.

"Second Jumper."

Can no one leave me in peace, I thought. I was definitely cursed to always be surprised from behind, looking back and meeting those slate eyes of Eric. He was looking down at me with no emotions on his face.

"Yes sir?" I asked when he hadn't said anything. He made a small grunting sound and crossed his arms over his chest.

"There will be a new rule implemented for the transfer dorms. No showering with others, unless they are of the same sex."

The others audibly let out a gasp at the admission from the stoic leader. Immediately some began chattering, and other initiates or full members of Dauntless who were listening in seemed equally surprised.

"But I hear of you fighting with others again, you'll get cut. Understood?"

"Understood," I nodded back to him, my gaze hard and my lips down in a frown. I saw his eyes flicker slightly to that part of my face, most likely seeing how it moved the scars and lines left from Paul. His eyes seemed to take my whole self in, in what must have been less than a second, and once again I felt disheartened when he walked away without anything else said or a second glance. If it wasn't for him, I grumbled to myself over my food, I wouldn't have been so distracted and missed Paul jumping me. It was all Eric's fault, putting the target on my back. I vowed to hate him from now on, and not think about him in the shower.

No wonder I left Erudite, because I obviously wasn't smart enough to even ignore my own rules.