Full Summary:

Tris has fought her way to claim a spot at the table, earned a right to be part of Leadership. But still there are questions as to whether she has a right to be there, especially from the remaining anti-Divergent members of Chicago. Tensions between the factions and factionless are at a chilly standoff, with Dauntless deciding for the city to instate a massive deployment for the protection of each faction. Tris places herself into one of the unit leader positions with hopes to prove that she's the right girl for the job. Unfortunately, this means working with recently deposed Eric to control those in Dauntless who refuse to follow her orders.

A/N: This was born out of a drabble which was far too interesting to just leave at ~500 words. Please note the setting of this fic is actually post-Insurgent, with some tweaking in my usual fashion of throwing out the genetics concept and focusing entirely on Chicago's factions v the factionless.

Check out my profile for more links and information about updates, contacting me, etc.

Enjoy.

- Sarah

Ain't That a Kick in the Teeth

No one held my hand when I got my stripes.

Moving from my position as one of the faction rebels to a genuine facet of Leadership had been a tough pill to swallow on all sides. Four resisted bringing me into that world, insisting that it would be better for me to stand down and let him and the other interim Leaders pave the way first. Well, somewhere between that conversation and the end of Candor's trials, I'd decided my fate was my own.

I would be the one to decide if it made sense for me to jump into the spotlight and direct the new path for Dauntless. Lo and behold, I thought that I could handle it. I grit my teeth the whole way. People thought I was just trying to prove a point to my ex. Others thought that I was the exact reason why Max's decisions were right. I was a rogue element, a Divergent agent ready to defect at the soonest provocation.

Too bad that the only faction I cared about was Dauntless. There wasn't anyone left for me to care about in Abnegation, not personally at least. I had no love for my Erudite aptitude, either. After the stunts my brother and the other rank-and-file of the "smartest faction" pulled during the insurgency I could never think of putting them above any other faction. No, what I wanted - what we rebels all wanted - was a return to normality in the system.

I spoke up, made my arguments, and showed that I had the backbone to be one of the faction's strongest voices.

My reward was to be alone in that tattoo parlor, clawing at the peeling pleather of the chair the moment that the needle pulled away from tender flesh. Relax, it'll be over soon. It was easy to think that and another to be the one having your neck stabbed a hundred times a minute with a sliver of metal.

Tori had offered to break it into two sessions. "That's what Bud did for Veronica back in the day. You don't have to be a sadist," she had said. I didn't see the similarity. Veronica didn't have to deal with half the faction kicking and screaming about me faking my way to Leader. If I didn't do the "tough" thing and get my stripes in one go, I'd be handing them yet another stone to throw.

"It's fine," I had insisted. "Let me worry about it. I'm not going to tap out on you." And I hadn't. The eight hours was misery, agony by the end. But I survived.

Tori handed me a mirror and a fresh tube of healing gel. I started applying the gel rather than stare at the marks slicing down my neck. I knew what they looked like, had spent months imagining what it would be like to bear the one badge that no-one could take away.

Well, no-one besides a war tribunal.

The gel stung before the cool sensation sank into my skin properly. Tori eyed me with quiet reservation as she wiped down her equipment. I could see it from the corner of the mirror. I suddenly remembered how she stepped down from her role as temporary leader after the insurgency.

"I'm still the same person," I said. I don't know why I was compelled to tell her. I suppose out of all the people that I saw and still spoke to, Tori tended to tell me what she thought and not what I wanted to hear. Still, this once I hoped what she said might coincide with what I wanted.

Which was what, exactly? That I could handle the pressure? That I would do what she hadn't?

Her eyes flicked back to her tattoo gun. She disconnected it from the line and turned from me to settle it into the egg-crate cushioning of her case. "Sure, I know that," Tori replied. "A few bits of ink shouldn't change who you are."

It did change how people treated me. Her back remained in the mirror as she continued dismantling her station. Someone would be coming in for the morning shift and would need the space. Clockwork organization, that was what Dauntless life was about under all the studded accessories and hair dye. Trust was there, too, somewhere under the surface. Inherently all Dauntless should trust one another.

Tori didn't look at me until I stood to leave.

"Deployment. To the other factions." I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Settled around the conference table surrounded by glass walls and neatly stacked situation reports, my fellow Leaders were primed for another explosive argument.

Callum rapped his knuckles on the table. The older man had a new layer of scars on his face. He had been part of the unit that went head-to-head with the Erudite-controlled Dauntless. "It's the only thing that will guarantee the safety of everyone including the factionless," he asserted. The marks gave weight to his opinions in a way that only a Dauntless would appreciate.

He continued to speak to the silent room. "A show of force can deter retaliation and limit actual confrontation. We don't want to have to engage with the factionless forces especially in civilian sectors," he explained.

Four's arm muscles strained even as he sat. The hand that I could see through his crossed posture was white-knuckled. If I squinted, I probably could have measured his pulse from the one vein that was throbbing on his forehead. "That's only going to force us back into open conflict," he said, stiff as always. "The ceasefire was built on the assumption that neither side would start up with open carrying in the civilian sectors."

Heads shook around the table. For the most part, Four was the sole presence in Leadership that actually believed in the ceasefire as it stood now. I was grateful that he had at least verbally distanced himself from his mother's agents of chaos. We hadn't agreed about her tactics or her ethics - more fuel to the fire that eventually burned us both.

"The guerilla warfare is what's destroying the city, Four," Veronica snapped. "Food shipments need to get in from Amity. Transport between factions shouldn't be a roll of the dice as to whether the bus will be loaded with an ambush. Those are problems we can't ignore. And they're problems that we can fix. With patrols and enforcement."

It did seem extreme. Patrols had been abandoned prior to the insurgency when the camera system had been selected as a "less threatening" solution. However, perhaps the lack of Dauntless presence had given the factionless the edge they needed to organize. Someone had suggested as such earlier in the year, but the conversation had ended there. According to Four, it was a waste of time to consider what could have been done to change things.

"So what's the answer then? Going back to skirmishes in the streets instead? I don't want to send people out there to die," Four barked.

A snort arose from the opposite end of the table. I inhaled tightly and twisted my head to regard the young man sitting there. Eric's presence was a rare sight at these meetings. He didn't often act on his right to voice his opinion to the current Leaders.

Yet here he was, opening his mouth.

"It'd be cute if you weren't forgetting that Dauntless signed up to die. That's what we did, Four, by bleeding into that bowl and sacrificing our time to drill and - yes - patrol the city for danger," Eric sneered. Electricity seared the air as the pair glared at one another. "Innocent people didn't ask to be pitted in the war between factions or chaos."

Four surged to his feet and shoved his way down the side of the table to get in Eric's face. The blonde barely budged even as Four spun the desk chair to face him. "Now you care about innocent people? That's rich, even for you," Four spat. He jabbed a finger hard into Eric's chest. I stood up just the same as the others in the room, too far away to do anything. Veronica and Jess got between the pair, failing to talk reason into the irate Four.

"I didn't see you giving a shit about the innocent when you were rounding up Abnegation men and women to be slaughtered," Four roared over Jessica's insistence that he calm down.

Eric continued to sit, a wry smirk now on his face. "My rehabilitation is working. Shouldn't you be happy about that? Wouldn't that be the selfless thing to do - let me learn how to think about others first rather than our faction?" he retorted. In a final twist of defiance to Four, he rested his head in the palm of his hand with all the ease of having just disagreed over what to request for lunch.

The motion perfectly displayed the bold, black T now inked there. Traitor. A reminder that any agreement made with him, any handshake, was with someone convicted of treason against the very fabric of the city. He was allowed to live, allowed to give his opinion on Dauntless' goings ons out of respect to his previous rank. But he was never to be trusted.

Both women had to wrangle Four back towards his seat, and he shoved them off to slam roughly into the chair once more. He waved away Eric's comment and growled for Callum to just lead the rest of the conversation.

"We should take a vote, unless anyone else has an opinion that would actually help the discussion?" the older man said. The rest of us returned to our seats. I felt no urge to voice my thoughts. I didn't have anything to say that would help. Reservations had already been voiced, and those for deployment unfortunately had the most logical argument.

All that I had left to consider was how to not further escalate conflict. "We can't be responsible for the next act of violence. Ever," I said quickly. "It would break the public's trust. We still want them to think - to know - that Dauntless is pro-Chicago and not pro-violence. So if that's what we're enforcing, I'm alright voting yay. But I'm not going to support sending out units looking for a fight."

It seemed obvious, but the nodding heads around me still helped soothe the worries that had percolated in my gut. "If that's what you're worried about, then you should take lead on one of the deployments," Veronica suggested.

"Why?" I asked. "Why not send out squad leaders with the best experience? I haven't taken command, officially." Most people knew of my involvement on the assault on Erudite's HQ. It usually ended up hurting my credibility. No one wanted to follow a squad leader who hadn't led real Dauntless before. Or had so many casualties.

Harrison, a Leader chosen the same time as Four and Tori, backed Veronica up. "There's no better way to make sure that what's happening is what you think it should be," he said. "Isn't that why we all took the stripes? To get the job done the right way?"

Licking my lips, I regarded the confident stances of those around me. I sat up straighter in my chair. I wasn't about to give up only days into my role. "Yeah, of course. I'll lead a unit."

The division of labor came down to one Leader per faction. Four would head up Dauntless' own internal security from his past experience in the Control Room. Harrison claimed Candor; Veronica picked Erudite. Callum bowed out of selection on account of the remaining Leaders' youth, promising to be on call for any support needed. When the choice came down to me, I knew that selecting Abnegation would be a death wish.

"Amity, for me. Should be a grand old time," I said, forcing myself to laugh.

For the second time in the meeting, Eric spoke up. "If you're going to Amity, you'll also need to be in good with the Fence." My gut resumed its earlier churning. I flicked my eyes to him, looking away as soon as he met them.

"Half the fence guard is made up of Max and I's crew. They're not going to want to take orders from the Divergent-in-Chief," he said in a sing-song voice. "Unless you like getting stabbed in the back."

Harrison grunted in assent, shifting noisily in his chair. "Much as I hate to say it, Eric has a point," he admitted.

Just like that, I felt the room shift. My fellow Leaders were considering me with narrowed eyes and steepled fingers. My tenuously obtained rank dangled in front of me as I stood on a knife's edge. I couldn't fail, not now.

"I'm a Leader. They're going to have to get used to listening to me," I growled.

Eric hummed, unconvinced. I turned to face him, leaning as far as I could across the table. I wouldn't be afraid of him, not anymore. But I wouldn't play into his hand like Four had. I could see it coming, how he was trying to get me to overreact to this power play and look even more the fool.

I tapped the table firmly. "They will. And the best way that I can think of accomplishing that would be to have their favorite attack dog telling them that. If you're so 'reformed' then you shouldn't have a problem kicking their asses into gear," I ordered.

I could have heard a pin drop. Clenching and releasing his jaw, Eric spun my command over and over in his mind. I could see the wheels turning, the Erudite deep within him trying to analyze it from every angle and spit out a way to come out on top. Finally he grimaced - it wasn't a smirk, not this time - and barked out a single "sure."

Not done yet, I pulled my lips into my own pointed smile. "Good. You'll be my point man. Keep an eye on my six. Don't let me get stabbed," I crowed.

Someone coughed and I sat back down in my chair, glaring away from Eric once again. Jessica happily took on the role of heading up Abnegation's protection detail and just like that, the meeting was over. People rushed to stand and scurry out the door. I ignored the flurry around me, waiting for the room to clear. I didn't want to chat with Veronica or thank Callum for stepping back from leading a squad.

Eric waited, too. It was difficult to ignore him, particularly when he moved to stand in front of where I was glaring. "They're not going to trust you," he murmured, low and angry. I'd upset him by beating him at his own game.

"I don't need your lackies to trust me. They're out on the fence and I'm here, sitting in your old office," I spat.

He shook his head and stalked to the door. I didn't get to escape his final parting shot, as of course he needed to have the last word. "I didn't mean them."