Kat
On the surface things seem like they have gone back to some semblance of normal. Or as normal as it gets for life as an initiate in Dauntless especially when that initiate is in a secret relationship with Eric Coulter.
The morning coffee in the dining hall with all three guys resumed and we still talked over what was on the agenda for the day before splitting off from each other. As far as the rest of the routine, the only real change to that has been Chase now goes with us for the morning training sessions.
The entire time there's an underlying tension that I can tell they are trying hard not to let me see or affect our time together but there are moments when their masks crack and I see through it. The first big crack in the façade of normality came during that morning when we were all together for the first time, although not in any way that might be expected.
I went in expecting for us to go full tilt at it because that's the way things always are with Eric. He made sure to tell me about all the plans he has for how our future sessions would go and what we would start covering.
I admit…I had been a bit nervous in the beginning. However, after I had time to let it settle in my mind I realized the plan was kind of perfect for my current state.
There was a maelstrom of feelings building in me and I counted on being able to release some of that during the newer intense sessions with Eric. It would allow me, I had hoped not to think about everything so much.
Some of what I'm feeling were the obvious things going on of course, like the tension between me and Eric that was still a little too fresh for me to be completely over just like that. Then there was all my other relationships and juggling the emotional toll they had on me, especially with my sister.
Not to mention all the other stuff, the deep dark stuff I didn't want to face but had no other choice to anymore. The attack also still lingered heavily in my mind, causing me to slip into moments of panic and fear every so often.
It probably didn't help that the new fear serum wouldn't be purged from my system until we could stop having to take it. Regardless….the combination kept me on edge constantly and there wasn't a way to really take that edge off in the normal training.
I had been counting on being able to do that with Eric…but for the last three mornings the most I've got to do was some light sparring with Chase.
Don't get me wrong…that hasn't been exactly a walk in the park for me.
Fighting against Chase is a definite challenge. He has a completely different fighting style to Eric, and is truly unlike anything I've ever faced before. Three days since we started and I still leave feeling like I've done nothing but defend myself instead of getting anything on him. I mean, I've landed a few hits, but they've felt more like lucky strikes born of desperation than anything focused or planned.
A fact that hasn't gone unnoticed by Eric…who's taken to prowling on the edge of the fighting ring with his arms crossed over his tank top covered chest; flexing them while slightly rocking back and forth on his feet whenever he does stand still. He scowls the entire time, clearly hating every second of me being in the ring with anyone besides himself.
There were a few moments I thought he might break and send Chase away so he could claim his spot again, but he never did. Not even when I unconsciously try to provoke him. In all honesty, most of the time I'm purposely trying to provoke him but nothing is working so far.
"Pay attention to what's going on in the ring, Kat." Eric snaps out at me heatedly as my thoughts get away from me.
Chase takes advantage of my distraction and suddenly I'm flying back on my ass. I take a moment to gulp in a few of the breaths he knocked out of me before scrambling to get back up knowing that he won't be likely to give me much more than that. When I'm back on my feet I notice a change in Eric's expression and stance.
"Enough," There's a tick in his jaw as he lets his arms drop to his sides as he takes a step towards the ring. Then his eyes snap over to Chase for a second, communicating something that is clearly displeasing our friend, and then returning to me. "It's time. Chase and I will demonstrate this one time but then it's going to be you and me. So, get ready, because I won't go easy on you. Got it?"
"Fucking finally," I respond with a grin that gets wider at Eric's darkening expression.
****Worth Fighting For****
I start striping off my sweaty, grimey, and slightly blood splattered workout clothes as soon as I enter the bedroom.
I can hear Zach and Eric's raised voices even behind the closed door and feel a slight twinge of guilt that I just left him out there to deal with our friend's wrath. Though, not enough guilt to make me stop or even slow down as I head to the bathroom and the shower.
I don't need to hear the actual words to know what Zach's saying anyway. I know that both he and Chase aren't happy with how far Eric and I have taken things, even with their presence to try and keep us from doing exactly what we've been doing for the past week.
The first day of the really intensified training wasn't really all that bad. Eric might have said he wasn't going to go easy on me, but I definitely felt that he was. To be fair, that first session was mainly dedicated to showing me what needed to be done and then allowing me to try it on my own.
Chase and Eric had given a demonstration by sparring against each other and having Eric armed with a knife. It was purposely fast and intense, their way of showing me how serious and dangerous it could get if I made even one little misstep. Then when it was my turn, Eric slowed down, broadcasting every move he made to allow me time to interpret and then respond in the appropriate manner.
Which I did that morning…but every morning since then…yeah…not so much.
It didn't help that directly after our newly reinstated training I had to face my fear sim again. It was the same one I've been stuck on since we started but it felt different to me. Worse even than before. Maybe that's because I can't seem to get past it and it's left me going into it feeling panicked and anxious.
To add even more to my distress, I can clearly see how my inability to work through my fear is affecting everyone else around me.
Four practically jumps if I make any sudden movements when I'm near him at all. The other initiates give me wary looks but don't dare to say shit to my face. Tris is getting more on edge every second because she's realized there's nothing she can do to help me. Lynn, Mar and Uri aren't in much better shape themselves and I hate having to add to their worries. Chase tries to lighten the mood when he can but even he's finding it hard to even try. Worst of all, I swear I saw Zach checking for gray hairs one morning as I passed him in the hallway bathroom.
Then there's how Eric's been handling things. He tried to hide how upset he was about me not being able to get over my fear or intentionally stop the sim on my own, but that didn't last long and when he did snap it came out during our sessions.
Truthfully, I knew that not all of his anger and frustration was because of what was going on with me. Something is going on with all of them that started the morning after Eric's visit to Candor. While I knew it had them stressed and worried, they were making every effort not to let on but I could still tell. Especially when Eric's version of not stressing me had been to act completely different during our training that he might as well have been wearing literal kid gloves.
It didn't matter what caused all our emotions. In the end it was like a repeat of the first time we fought each other. Only this time in addition to the bruises and split lip I'm now sporting shallow but obvious cuts from the knife. To say that people are flipping their shit at the way I'm looking nowadays is an understatement. Now even Chase and Zach are at the end of their tolerance for how the two of us are handling things.
I sigh as I reach into the shower and begin the water and steam option while I finish getting undressed. I set the water temp for as hot as I can without seriously injuring myself. Steam is just starting to fog up the enclosed space when Eric comes into the room.
I look over my shoulder while unbraiding my hair and watch him slowly closing the door. We don't speak but our actions communicate volumes. The slowness of the door closing is his way of asking me if I want him to go. I let my hair fall free around my shoulders and then step into the shower but leave the door open in clear invitation.
The door makes a clicking sound as it closes and he begins to quickly get undressed while I edge myself into the water. I close my eyes, bracing for the inevitable pain. Since I got hit by those nerve damaging darts, showers can often be a painful experience but whenever I'm already hurting they are even worse.
My jaw clenched as I stepped forward, only to be stopped by Eric's hands on my shoulders…gently turning me towards him. Still we don't speak as he presses my head to his shoulder then guides us into the water, where his body takes the brunt of the water pressure, leaving me to be surrounded in nothing but the warmth of the steam and his body. There he held me for a few seconds like I was made of glass or he was afraid I would pull away with how heated things got between us back in the training room.
Truthfully my anger had already gone before we really even left the room. I got what I needed out of my system and I could tell it was the same for him. The tension after that came from other sources. Chase as he slammed out of the door, quietly angry but unwilling to say anything that would make his presence unwelcome next time. Zach who took one look at us and didn't even bother trying to keep calm as he laid into Eric about how ridiculous and dangerous we were being.
I'm conflicted about the fact that I can't bring myself to feel guilty when it feels like I've never been so close to Eric as I am right now. He understands me and what I need in a way that no one else can…but I also know we can't continue on this way.
With a sigh I reach my arms up to wind around his shoulders and clasp them behind his neck so that our bodies are pressed close together. I feel him relax into me, the taut and painfully rigid posture seeping from him just as the heat seeps into our skin. He lets out a deep and long sigh while tightening his hold on me. He turns his head to nuzzle his face into my hair and pulls us further into the water, still taking the brunt but now allowing some of it to gently flow over me like silk.
"We can't keep going on like we are, kitten." His words rumble out, disturbing the quiet we'd maintained until now. Speaking out what I already knew but wasn't ready to admit, wasn't ready to give up. I knew it was inevitable, and I didn't like dealing with the guilt from making everyone around us worried and upset, I still felt a bit reluctant regardless.
"I know," I reluctantly sigh out to him in reply. "So does this mean no more morning training?"
He pulls back to look at me, a scowl and glare already there waiting for me as he snarls out the words…"Fuck no," The scowl and glare on lessens when he sees that I'm relieved and happy by his exclamation. He sighs and closes his eyes for a second before raising a hand to push some damp strands of hair from the side of my face. "We will have to tone things down though. Maybe even have Chase take over a few more sparring sessions."
I bit my lower lip in thought and to hide my smile at his grumpy tone and pouty expression.
"I don't mind sparring with Chase," I tell him, pausing as I take the time to choose my words carefully, "...but I do miss when it was just us."
"Oh really?" Eric practically purrs out, pleased with my words and not bothering to hide it. He pulls me even closer, leaning down to nuzzle and nip at my neck to wait for some kind of response from me.
I manage to get out a breathless yes and nod a little while the tips of my breasts brush against the hairs on his chest. My body responded to the stimulus and to the rising evidence of his own arousal. He continues to tease me with his mouth until finally I can't take it anymore and push away from him in a huff.
He smirks knowingly at me.
"I guess we'll need to find something else we can do, just the two of us. You got any ideas?"" I answer his smirk with my own wicked grin as I take a step back away from him, not letting him respond to my question as I slowly start to sink to my knees in front of him.
It takes a second for him to catch up to what I'm about to do but when he does he scrambles to turn off the water just as my lips wrap around him. I barely get into a rhythm before he's reaching down and dragging me up his body.
I see hesitation in his eyes for a second, like's contemplating not giving us what we both want. It's only a brief pause though, and then he pulls me up until my legs are around his waist. With out the water running, Eric's free to move me anywhere he wants. It turns out where he wants me is with my back against the tile wall.
One of his hands leaves my body to slide between us, where he grips then guides himself to line up with my entrance. Through it all his eyes never leave my face, watching me as he slowly starts to enter me. I love the way he can't seem to keep his eyes off me whenever we're together like this. Even before we went all the way, so to speak, he was always watching me with heated eyes.
Right now he seems to eye me just as hungrily as I'm feeling. Only he seems intent on denying us both by sliding in torturously slowly until I tighten around him, trying to pull him in. He lets out a growl before slamming the rest of the way into me.
"Oh god," He goes so deep and hard it takes my breath from me in a gasp. I let my head fall back against the tiled wall, grip onto his shoulders and hang on while he continues to thrust into me.
I try to keep my eyes open and on him, because I know that's what he wants, but it's getting harder and harder to do as I feel myself hurtling over the edge. I'm vaguely aware that his body is showing signs that he's not far off himself.
"Fuck," He grunts as I tighten around him even more. His fingers dig into me as he tries to bring me even closer and to try and get me to focus on him again. When he sees that I'm beyond being able to keep focused on him he growls out instead. "Give me your mouth, kitten,"
That's something I'm all too happy to do, to finally participate in some way. I move my hands from his shoulders and slide them into his hair, pulling his head to me even as I move in. I barely get my mouth open to accept him when he plunges his tongue in with as much fierce hunger as the other part of our body is being joined. This time I'm able to give as good as I'm getting and I take over the kiss. Then he shifts us, while using one arm and the wall to hold me in place, he uses his other to grip my hair in his hand and take control of me completely.
Something about that sets me off and I feel him tugging to my head until I'm crying out my release. His chest rumbles in pleasure and his movements become erratic, almost frantic and even harder if at all possible. Then after one final big thrust that pins my back flat to the wall he breaks and floods me.
It takes several long seconds for either of us to be able to breathe right, much less move. But until he's capable of letting me go, and sure I can be steady on my feet, he just holds me there in his arms. Sweetly and tenderly kissing or nuzzling me. Eventually though he lets me down, turns the water back on to a gentler setting than I had it on, then reaches for my hand and pulls me under the water with him.
We don't really talk for the rest of the shower, it doesn't feel necessary. There are a few comments here and there, mostly about what's in store for us, and how we know that there won't be much quiet time or being able to be together again for at least a few more weeks.
So…we spend the rest of the time just enjoying each other's presence while we slowly take turns caring for each other in our own way with an understanding that this will become our new thing.
Eric insisted on washing and conditioning my hair for me, and I let him even though soap got in my eyes a time or two. In return he let me soap his body down, massaging and touching wherever I felt like doing so.
I had a feeling that this small, steamy enclosure would soon become the only sanctuary we would have together for what far longer than I would prefer.
**** Worth Fighting For ****
I can still hear my friends trying to call me back, to ask me what's wrong but I can't allow myself to go back as I storm away from them and the eyes that are always on me when I'm in this place.
"You can't really blame them, stiff." Peter huffed and puffed from beside me as he tried to keep up while I barreled away from the Pit.
"Shut it, Hayes," I growl and push through a crowd of people coming into the main common area as I'm trying to get out.
I ignore their protests just like I ignore their whispering about me as I leave them behind. The gossiping busybodies of this faction have me at a breaking point. My friends honestly haven't been much better lately either.
Which is what's finally driven me away from their overly worried and protective watch over me.
"Kat…you know you can't fucking leave the compound." Peter growls out, grabbing my arm and stopping me in my tracks. I spin around to face him, my face red with the anger and tears I'm trying to hold in check. He sighs and lets his arm drop from mine, then runs a hand over his face tiredly.
"Look," He begins after scrubbing it over his stubbled jaw. "I don't really feel like being around anyone either right now, but leaving the compound isn't an option."
I huff, crossing my arms over my chest and turning my head away from him stubbornly, but he continues on,
"So…why don't we go get Zach and just the three of us get something to eat. We haven't had any lunch but more importantly we both know he hasn't been eating much lately either."
If I didn't know he's being sincere in his concern for my friend I might have called him out on manipulating me with guilt and worry. But I know that's not really his intention. He doesn't want me to leave but he's also really worried about Zach and he knew reminding me about him would keep me here and want to go check on him.
"Fine." I hiss after a few seconds of decision, turn my head and narrow my eyes at him. "But I refuse to go to the pizza place where anyone we know might be."
"You won't hear me complaining." He shrugs nonchalantly and smirks a little.
**** Worth Fighting For ****
.Zach took one look at me and made the executive decision that beer and greasy food was in order. He led me and Peter to a place neither of us had been before. Somewhere that seemed to be mostly occupied by an older and much tamer generation of Dauntless.
The mood is laid back, with the lighting just bright enough to see and the tables spaced enough to give everyone room as well as privacy instead of us all being crammed in. Despite the fact that there are vid screens all over the place, broadcasting old sporting events, it's not loud. In fact, you would have to strain to be able to really hear what's going on.
Not that anyone seems to mind that. Some people are watching but most are either sitting quietly by themselves or softly conversing with the other people at their table.
After a stop by the bar to pick up a round of drinks, Peter and I go and pick out a table for our group while Zach stays behind to order then grab our food stuff. I had my eye on one particular booth and immediately made my way to it.
It was U shaped with a higher back that separated it from the ones on either side of it. It was perfect because it would let me see the bar from there, it's far enough back and protected that no one else could see me.
Which is perfect right now. I slide into the bench then scoot to the u bend of it and sigh as I settle in and the shade of privacy surrounds me. Peter slides in on my right, leaving the other end on the left open for Zach when he gets back. I see him glancing at me from time to time as we wait and sip on our beers but he doesn't say anything.
He's worried about me. Just like my sister and friends are all worried about me. The only reason I can stand being around Peter right now and not them is the fact that their worry has been making them say and do things that have me on the edge of snapping at them. I couldn't handle hurting them right now especially because they aren't meaning to hurt me.
It's not like they're treating me badly or saying bad things to me…rather about me…to make me feel the way I do. Even the whispering gossips of the faction aren't talking about me that way.
It's all been aimed at Eric. All the scorn, anger and hate has been about him and what he's supposedly been doing to the poor helpless stiff.
I never shied away from displaying the aftermath of my morning training before. In fact I had been playing it up and making a bit of a show out of it for all to see. Mainly because I still believed that the other initiates needed to see what breaking certain rules would get you. But it was also to maintain the cover we established for why we were spending that time together in the first place.
There had always been some chatter about us. About how I looked and how he was treating me but mostly the rest of Dauntless just kind of shrugged it off and carried on.
That's changed since the intensified sessions though. Truthfully…and logically…I get it. I do look worse than I ever have before.
It's been tough balancing the when and how's of going from just regular hand to hand combat to it being armed. All the same worries and pitfalls exist. It's just all amplified by the addition of the knife.
So I take more hits in general, because Eric hasn't been holding back in that regard, but I also have the addition of the cuts from the knife when I incorrectly blocked or countered a move. The cuts I do get, though, aren't anywhere as bad as the damage I know Eric could be inflicting on me because he's being very careful not to truly injure me.
No one here knows that other than those who know the truth about me and Eric. But even Lynn has started to act pissy and gives Eric the stink eye whenever he's around. I guess, truthfully, what my real problem is…what had me fleeing the Pit and those gossip mongers, was the latest rumor making its rounds.
I was trying to grin and bear it so I could spend time with my friends in the Pit when I heard someone muttering about Eric and all the other girls, or victims as they actually put it, that he's done this to before me.
Even though I knew it was complete and utter bullshit…I didn't know what I was feeling more of in that moment…anger or jealousy.
And that's what broke me. That I was so messed up I was actually feeling jealous over something like that. I scoff at myself while scrunching my nose up in disgust for my thoughts then lift the beer bottle and take a slightly larger than normal drink from the bottle.
Across the room Zach is making his way back to us with a tray in hand loaded up on all the things both he and Peter decided would be perfect for our general mood and state of mind.
It's all bar food. Which, apparently, means that it's an unhealthy as hell collection of finger foods. Fried things like cheese sticks and fries loaded up with cheese and chili. Chicken in the form of wings, doused in two different flavors, one mildly spicy and the other with garlic and cheese. Even the dessert they talked about getting is something fried called funnel cake.
When he sits the tray on the table I admit that it all looks good. I just have no appetite. I'm too wrapped up in my thoughts and feelings.
"Zach," I start out then stopping while frowning trying to put everything into words. He looks away from the vid screen he'd been half-heartedly watching, giving me his full attention. "Is…is it always like this?"
He tilts his head and frowns. "Is what always like this, princess?"
"I don't know…everything. Initiation. The simulations. Dauntless. Everything!" I wave my hands around as I'm speaking, trying to use them to indicate that I mean anything and everything right now. Then words just start tumbling out of my mouth. "I mean…is it normal for all of Dauntless to just make shit up about each other and spread it around like they have nothing else better to do! I expect something like that out of Candor and Erudite…maybe even a bit in Amity…but here? Doesn't this faction already have enough crap to deal with, enough bad things being said about us…that we need to add to what everyone else thinks of us by acting that way?"
The volume of my words started to get higher, prompting Peter to elbow me in the side. "Watch it, Kat," He hissed out but I was on a roll and not about to stop…though I did lower my tone.
"I am watching it, Peter. I'm watching while my faction is tearing itself apart! Doesn't anyone see how fucked up it is…what's being done to the initiates every year? Isn't anyone worried that it's going to make one of us snap and do something bad, something even worse than what's happened so far?"
Zach frowns and looks down, like he's debating something before he looks back up at me and shrugs tiredly. "It's happened before, Kat. So yeah, we have an idea of what everyone is going through. It's just considered part of the process. It's believed to be the best way to figure out who really belongs here and who doesn't."
I feel ready to blow my top…but I can see that my friend doesn't believe that crap any more than I do, even if I feel compelled to lay out my concerns out loud.
"Zach…you know better than I do what experiencing a trauma can do to a person and that's what each and every initiate is being subjected to before they even really get sent out into the thick of things. Do they really not see that going through shit like this on top of what one of our patrolmen or soldiers go through out there on a daily basis won't have lasting effects?"
Peter looks between the two of us, his brows lowered as he takes in my words and he waits for Zach to respond. Maybe hoping that he might have something positive to say, a way to assure us it's not as bad as I'm making it out to be.
But Zach and I know better.
"When the simulations were first developed, Erudite did come out with a study that determined there shouldn't be any last effects and that those who went through the trial period were able to resume their normal activities. Since then, no more studies have been done with that as the focus, at least not to my knowledge or anyone else in Dauntless leadership's knowledge. Also, I'm not sure they've even revisited it anytime the serum's have been changed."
'Right…and that doesn't seem fishy as hell to anyone else? Come on, for crying out loud!' I can't help but think.
Peter snorts out a laugh, causing me to look at him then blush when I realize I thought a little too loudly but then I shrug because I don't care, it's the truth. Before I can say that, or continue talking more along those lines Zach interrupts me by clearing his throat.
"You know…it's not against the rules for the initiates to talk to each other." He has an eyebrow raised at me suggestively. "Members, instructors and leaders can't help you guys out with the fear simulation stage but it wouldn't hurt for you to talk to each other. It might not make much difference in the long run, you'll all still have to work through the fears by yourself after all, but maybe talking it out with each other can help lessen the strain it's putting on you."
I know where he's going with this, what he means. It's the same thing he's been doing for me. He's a trained counselor, even though he doesn't have that as an official title here. But he told me that most of the training was recognizing there will be many times people are able to help themselves if they just have someone they trust to open up to. Someone to listen while they say out loud things they might have been brave enough to admit in their own minds.
Peter's scoff is loud and has us both looking at him. "Like that's going to fucking happen. I don't need to give anyone any ammunition they can use to take me out, and that's what would happen if we all start talking about what our weaknesses are."
I can't help but scowling, and when I see Zach nod slightly in agreement before looking at me in sheepish apology…I snap again.
"See this is exactly what's wrong with this fucking faction!" This time I don't modify my tone, and even Zach gives me a stern look while Peter kicks me under the table. "Ow! What? I'm serious." I pause and take a breath to calm down, then turn to Zach, the older and more experienced person of our group.
"Okay, I'm going to use a hypothetical scenario to illustrate my point. Say the three of us are out on a patrol and something happens. Something that cuts us off from back-up being able to reach us and we're a long way from the compound. We're going to have to rely on each other right? Watch each other's backs?"
Zach nods slowly before vocally replying. "Yeah, it would be crucial to be able to trust each other."
"Precisely. Now let's say that at least two of us don't necessarily get along." I snarl with a look in Peter's direction who responds by making a taunting kissy face. "How would that play into things?"
"I guess it depends, getting along doesn't mean you can't trust each other. You're still on the same side, and part of the same faction." He responds, his tone laden with implication for the two of us.
"Exactly!" I look at them both in triumph and smile then lower my voice to a more reasonable level. "Listen…I know that I was raised differently than either of you, being from Abnegation and all, and even there I think my family was something of an aberration. While everyone in the city has been taught to believe that our faction is our family, my parents always put their own spin on the belief. Because of the trouble my sister and I had growing up, of fitting in with the rest of my old faction, they explained that being part of a family didn't always mean you got along or even liked each other. But you would be there for and support one another in times of need. They taught us that the true strength of a family wasn't measured by the weakest link, but how the others came together to strengthen the one that needed it the most. I know that sounds like bullshit Abnegation rhetoric but try to think about it tactically."
I pause and let that all soak in as I watch the scorn my initial words caused to appear on Peter's face slowly fade away.
"Think back to my example. The three of us on our own with only each other and whatever skills or resources we possess to complete our objectives and get home. Wouldn't it be better to know what each of us is capable of? Our strengths…yes…but also our weaknesses. What if we were pinned down and there are two options to get us out of that mess. One option requires someone with the skills to be able to handle rapid long range fire to set themselves up in a position to play the sniper while the other two try and keep them engaged. The other option would require someone fast and stealthy enough to get behind the enemy to be able to flank them and take them out. Two very different approaches but both with very serious risks. Which do we choose, and how do we decide?"
"Sending someone out and behind enemy lines would be the riskier one. So, it would obviously have to be the first option." Peter states confidently.
"Really? And how good are your long range skills Peter? Good enough to take out an enemy before they can counter you?"
His response is predictable, a cocky and snarky reply of "Probably better than you could."
"Maybe, but you don't know for sure. Neither of us would know that about each other. The only one that might between the three of us is Zach and that's only because he's got inside knowledge of our scoring during the weapons part of training. Other than that, if we haven't actually said anything to each other then no one would be the wiser."
Peter tilts his head to the side, and I can tell he wants to ask Zach if he knows how good I am…but he won't because it might lead to me knowing just what he's capable of.
"That right there, Peter, just proves my point. You stopped yourself from asking Zach if I'm any good, but only because you knew that gave me the freedom to ask the same damn thing about you. We hold onto that stuff, what we're really capable of, because we have to. We've been forced to. Every man and woman in Dauntless today has something about themselves they hold back from anyone else knowing, because they believe it's essential to their survival here in Dauntless. Not their survival out there …in the city or the world around us where the real danger is…but here in their very own homes." I feel suddenly drained and exhausted as I slump down in my seat. "I know there are some seriously messed up family dynamics out there, but this has to be the most fucked up one I've ever encountered before." I mutter tiredly.
The other two are quiet as they ponder what I've said until it's surprisingly Peter who breaks the quiet.
"You're right, Kat. We should talk things out with the others." He says, breaking me out of me quietly musing to myself that maybe I was just wasting my breath. If even Zach was agreeing with Peter Hayes what chance did I have of convincing anyone else?
I narrow my eyes and stay quiet, mostly in disbelief and waiting for him to say something else snarky or disparaging. When he doesn't add anything and seems to actually be serious about it I bite my lip in thought.
"How would we even get that started though? It's not likely to just happen naturally at this point because if it was going to happen it would have already by now."
"It's going to have to be one of you, or both. That would be better if the others saw both of you willing to open up and talk about things." Zach suggests with a shrug before grabbing one of the fried cheese sticks and dipping it in marinara sauce.
Peter and I exchange glances, mine pleading and his reluctance. Finally, he seems to give in as his shoulders slump forward.
"Fine," He grumbles and grimaces at my very girly squeal. "Just don't expect me to sit around braiding anyones hair or singing crappy songs about love or kindness while we're all being touchy feely and shit."
"Don't worry," I say with a grin, pick up my fork and plunge it into the gooey mess of chili cheese fries. "I have something else in mind for you." I tell him with a slightly wicked smirk before shoving my forkful of food into my mouth.
It must say something about how close the two of us seem to be getting, because he already had a resigned look in his eyes before he sighs out, "Yeah, that sounds about what I expected."
Zach grunts out a laugh while covering it with a fist, then shoves a fresh bottle of beer Peter's way with a wink of amusement and commiseration.
**** Worth Fighting For ****
"Tris, why don't you ever seem as messed up as we do after your sims?" Christina gripes and moans as she throws herself onto her bed, looking ashen faced and wrung out.
Sims are over for the day but no one seems to want to leave the dorm. All around us the others sit in various states after another round of facing their fears. More often than not, this is the way it is for at least a few hours after we get done for the day. Sometimes people will be escorted in by the clinic staff and go right to their beds, curling up in a ball and fighting back tears or screams. Others will just lay back and stare blankly into space for the next hour or so.
Everyone has their own way of dealing with it directly after, but the one thing we all seem to have in common right now has been the dark circles under our eyes that seem to be getting darker each day regardless of if it's a simulation day or not.
I eye Christina laying on her bed, a snarky comeback ready on my lips, until I remember my conversation with Peter and Zach. I guess this is as good a time as any to try and see if we can get the ball rolling.
"Christina, she might look like she's handling things better than everyone else, but that doesn't mean she hasn't been struggling as much as the rest of us. Tris has always been the kind of person who would push aside whatever she's feeling so she can help the people she cares about. What do you think she's been doing every time you've needed someone to vent to, to listen to you?"
She doesn't get up from her bed, but she does turn her head in mine and Tris' direction where we're sitting together on my bed. For a second I think she might be about to say something in the way she has about her, of just blurting out whatever is on her mind at the time, but she doesn't. She pauses, bites her lower lip a little with her forehead all scrunched up in thought before turning her eyes to my sister in silent question.
Tris ducks her head for a second before nodding. "She's right, but I think it's more of a big sister thing than being Abnegation." She remarks with a smirk in my direction making me snort out a laugh and roll my eyes at the same time. "Seriously though," She continues on after a second, a bit more serious and somber. "This has been hard for me too, but I think I've just kind of been not really dealing with things the way I probably should because it's been easier trying to be here for my friends."
I tilt my head to the side slightly, kind of in disbelief that my sister was the one to give me the opening I had been just hoping Peter would give me. I glance over to him for a second, and see he recognizes this as well.
I look back at my sister with a smile and put my hand over hers. "I get it, Tris. Maybe you have the right idea though. Maybe talking about it will help us to not feel like shit all the time."
I look over at Peter again, more pointedly this time and arch an eyebrow up. At first all I get is a weary sigh before he stops and a small but slightly wicked smirk tilts one side of his mouth in a way I'm coming to know means trouble for someone.
"Yeah, I could be down with that, stiff. Especially since that means I'll finally get to hear what's making you try to beat the shit out of Four everytime you go in that room with him."
He's full on smirking now, not even bothering to hide it as I scowl back at him. I should have known he would find some way to turn this on me, especially since I had intended to have him be the one under the spotlight when it came time.
I hear shifting and turn my head to find exactly what I was dreading when he first opened his big fat mouth. All eyes are on me, even the people like Molly and Drew, who are trying to act like they aren't interested at all can't hide that they really are.
I groan as I look around at everyone who seems to be waiting on the edge of their seats for what I'm about to say. Even my sister, who looks torn between wanting to tell everyone to back off me, and urging me to go ahead.
I groan softly and close my eyes, then take a breath and breathe it out, along with the word…"Clowns."
There's whispering around me. Mostly it consisted of mutterings of 'what did she say' and 'huh' or 'what'. Peter clears his throat, making me open my eyes again to look at him. He's barely repressing a smile and has to use a hand to cover his mouth as he fakes a cough to cover a small laugh.
"Sorry," He says after clearing his throat again. "What was that again? We couldn't hear you."
"I said….my fear is of clowns." I say between gnashed teeth and as I glare daggers at Peter. I'm so wrapped up in this glare off with him that I'm not paying attention to anyone else or their reactions to what I admitted.
It isn't until someone speaks up, all hesitant and confused sounding that I'm brought back to the matter at hand.
"Umm…what exactly is a clown and why are you afraid of it?" Al says, his forehead all scrunched up showing just how confused he is. What really gets my attention is that more than a few of the people around me are mirroring his expression, letting me know they don't know what I'm talking about either.
I swallow as my heart rate starts to kick up in an alarming quickness when I realize they're all expecting me to explain what a clown is. I knew they weren't known to everyone, I'd only ever known about the one and that was more than enough apparently.
Having to explain the milder supposedly kid friendly version of a clown is bad enough, but they want me to tell them about the clown from my fears….
There's a ringing in my ears that makes it hard to hear but I can clearly see a few people scrambling away while Peter is coming at me shouting at my sister for her to go get Zach. I can't help thinking that the asshole deserves the bloody lip I'm about to give him for putting me in this situation.
**** Worth Fighting For ****
Two weeks have gone by since the attack in the dorm, but it feels like it's been much longer to me. My days seem to mostly drag on endlessly. The only exception being the scant amount of time I have alone with Eric in the mornings. That always seems to go by faster than either of us would prefer.
I remember that I had teased Eric about our time in the shower together becoming our new thing when I had actually meant it.
Especially about the sex.
My teasing turned out to be more of a prediction. It really has become our new thing. But in true Eric fashion, there's an order to our time together…a routine.
There are things that have almost become a ritual for us to do while enclosed in these tiled and glass walls. The quiet we maintain for the first few minutes after we've entered the shower and rinsed the sweat and grime from our bodies from that morning's training. We don't really wash up, that's for later.
The things that seem to be his own little ritual surprisingly aren't about sex at all. Not generally. The only time it leads to something sexual is because I've pushed it there, or broke down and begged him for it. He's been almost quietly insistent that this time together not be just about that even if we are still being physically intimate.
On days when I can't hide how much I'm hurting from him I've come to accept that there will be absolutely no sex. Not even begging him can get Eric to change his mind when I'm in that condition.
He does make up for it in so many other ways though.
Like the way he always kisses me in a slow and unrushed manner. Or how he spends an even longer amount of time washing, rinsing and massaging my hair for me. How we always spend a longer amount of time with just the steam setting on, curled up together on the stone bench. He won't let me sit in his lap like he does on a good pain day, but at least he's relaxed enough to allow me to be tucked against his side.
It's a compromise for us. One of the first big disagreements we had after our slight separation was when I couldn't hide how much I was hurting one morning after our session. He almost refused to get in the shower with me that morning, and touching me at all was out of the question regardless.
I wasn't having it and told him how bad it made me feel when he wouldn't touch me. How it felt much more painful to me when he did that and felt like he was rejecting me. Of course, that was unacceptable to him too, but he couldn't just completely give in because it hurt him too. Eric can't stand seeing me in pain and not at least attempting to minimize it if he can.
We reached our first compromise in this very spot by talking things out. He agreed that I could still sit beside him on the bench. It gives us just enough separation to satisfy his need to make sure he's not causing me unnecessary pain, and my need to be close to him.
Thinking about that incident brings to mind another thing that's become a routine, or almost a ritual for us because of how open we became with each other when trying to resolve the problem. It became an unspoken agreement that in here we strip ourselves bare, not only physically but also of our burdens.
He's shared a few of his own. Specifically some of the details about what's been going on with Candor that has him and our other two friends so stressed out.
He couldn't say much about it because it is considered leader business and is classified. What he did tell me was that there's a potential major issue with the security of the city that might involve the factionless, but he was keeping in mind the things I'd told them about the factionless and the different groups.
I realized that while he might not have said it in so many words, he was asking me to trust him to do the right thing. He was also trusting me by telling me something that could have gotten him in trouble if anyone knew he was telling me even that little bit of leadership's business.
This makes me realize that I need to keep my side of our unspoken promise to each other and try to shed my burden this morning.
I close my eyes and lean into Eric's attention as he works the last of the conditioner into my hair, then take a breath and release it along with the words I've been holding inside.
"My sister's times in her fear sims are really good aren't they?"
His freezes for just a second, his hands barely stilling before they resume their previous motions and would probably be barely noticeable to anyone else but me. I think he's not going to respond though, because he's very silent for several long seconds.
"They are," He finally agrees, but doesn't volunteer anything else.
I bite my lip, trying to enjoy the fact that he's begun to actually massage my scalp gently. But I can't. All I can think about is Tris and her simulation times. I don't care that there so good, or that it's put her in first place over all the initiates since they've combined the groups now. In fact, if I wasn't so fucking worried right now I would probably be feeling proud and pleased as hell for her success and barely able to hide it from everyone else.
If I'm being honest…I was at first a bit blinded by being proud of my sister doing so well that it took me far too long to really be worried by what it could mean. I was able to convince myself it was her reaction to the serum and the fears themselves that had her so unsettled and anxious. But since we all started actually talking about what's in our fears I discovered that hers aren't really all that bad. Not in the way some of them have been for the other initiates; at least going by their description of the horrifying things their minds have created for them. I also can't really blame the serum because, although the reactions haven't gone away, everyone's just kind of been forced to adapt as best we can.
Maybe I always knew, or always had the feeling, even as far back as the day of our aptitude testing and she got sent home with that reaction to the serum. Something in me told me that wasn't really what happened, or at least that it wasn't the entire story.
I close my eyes as hot tears burn my eyes and just as he gently guides my head in position to rinse the product from it I whisper the rest of my admission. "She's divergent."
My eyes are closed tight as I try to hold the tears in but they escape anyway. After he's finished with my hair, Eric uses his thumbs to wipe them away and pull my head free of the water, forcing me to look at him again.
I see the truth in his eyes even before he speaks, and I also see how much he wants to soften the blow for me. "A person's simulation time isn't a true indication of a divergence. You really only have to look at your own times to see that for yourself." There's no bite or recrimination to his tone but I still wince at the reminder. He continues on, not acknowledging my reaction. "Then there are people like me. I'm not divergent but my times were really good too. Granted, that was because I was trained to not try and solve the sim. I was instead instructed to just maintain my breathing and heart rate to get out of it."
This time there's a bit of recrimination in his tone.
It's been a sore point for us that I can't or won't get out of my sim like he was trained to do. Until now I've been arguing that it feels like cheating, and it was mostly the truth although part of it was just me being admittedly stubborn.
Lately, I've been thinking I'm not going to have any choice but to do it his way. I shake my head of that distracting thought and focus on my sister instead of myself for once but Eric's not quite as ready to let it go.
"Kat," He growls and grips my shoulders. "I know you think I don't get it and that it feels like you're giving up, taking a cheater's way out of things. Your instinct is to fight, not just physically, but also in your thoughts, words, and even by your refusal to give up. But it's not a completely natural instinct, it's been forced on you in order to survive and protect yourself and your family."
His face is tight with a thinly veiled anger and hurt whenever the subject of my past comes up, and I open my mouth to once again apologize for not being ready yet to open up more about it.
"Don't." He raises a hand and puts a finger over my lips to silence me before I can even get a sound out. With a sigh he drops his hand from my mouth and uses it to run though his wet hair. "I don't need you to apologize again and I wasn't bringing this up to hurt you. I'm trying to get it through to your thick head that if fighting wasn't your first instinct you would see that knowing when not to fight is just as important for a Dauntless. Rushing into a battle with no hope of winning, and for no other purpose than because you're too damn stubborn not to, isn't being brave; it's being stupid. And despite what Erudite, Candor and even your precious Abnegation think, Dauntless aren't stupid. You aren't stupid and I know that you can see this might be the only way to get through that particular fear."
I blink and look down at my hands thinking about his words, feeling torn between wanting to get pissed off at him or breaking down and crying. I feel him shift a little closer even to me even as I can tell he's tensing, probably feeling as unsure how I'm going to react as I am myself.
In the end I do neither though. Because what he's said is the truth. I've turned this thing into a matter of pride, thinking that if I couldn't beat it by fighting then it would always control me…but that's exactly what it's doing regardless.
"You're right, the way I've been going at it isn't going to work. Maybe the only way I'm going to beat it is the way you all have been insisting on."
He tilts his head, eyes narrowed and lips pursed. "But you're still not going to do it, are you."
I shake my head then forestall anything else he might say by reaching out and putting a hand on his chest. "I think I can't, not because I don't want to, but because there's something that won't let me think rationally enough to get to that point on my own. I don't know what it is…but I need to figure that out if I have any hope of getting past this damn thing…and I think I might have an idea of how I can do it."
"I can't argue with that logic," He almost grits out with frustration, letting me know he really wants to try and argue against my reasoning. Then his hands go back to my shoulders to pull me closer to him. "What's the idea?"
I wrap my arms around his waist and sigh tiredly before answering. "After we all started talking about our fears, Will realized the same thing Zach did, and that it's actually a phobia. He took me aside one day and told me about a study Erudite did on phobias and how to cure them. He said that exposure therapy had the most positive results."
"Exposure therapy." He hisses through clenched teeth. "And did that idiot see fit to inform you of just what this… therapy …of his involves?" He spits out in disgust.
I can't bring myself to answer him, and tug my lower lip between my teeth in nervousness.
Maybe I should bristle at his tone, but honestly I kind of understand where he's coming from, seeing as I do, in fact, know what it involves. I know he's going to see it as me once again torturing myself or causing myself pain.
"Fuck, kitten," He groans and wraps me in his arms. "You already know and you're going to do it anyway."
It's not a question and we both know it.
"I can't fight them in the simulation, Eric. I can't even think clearly enough to figure out why they make me feel the way I do about them. Not with the serum interfering. The only way I have a chance to do it is outside of the sim, but still in a controlled environment."
He grumbles and pulls me with him over to the bench. He pauses long enough to slam his fingers against the controls and shut the water off and the steam all the way up. Then I'm in his lap with his head laid back against the tile walls looking at the ceiling and scowling.
I stay quiet because I realize he's arguing with himself. Trying to override his need to protect me and allow the leader in him to do what he knows needs to be done. Finally he lifts his head and looks back at me.
"I don't like it." He seethes out in a huff. "However, If there's a chance it works then I guess it needs to be done." I nod in agreement, feeling pleased to realize I've won a small victory with him. "But there will be rules before I agree fully, Kat."
My lips quirk in a slight smile and I raise an eyebrow as I wait for him to lay out the terms and prepare my own argument. It turns out they aren't really anything I can or want to argue against. He wants to make sure that the first few times that he is present at the least, but if not him then definitely Zach.
Eric proposed I be given a mild calming serum before each session but I refused. I did end up agreeing that someone we all trust would be on hand with a mild sedative in case I had a reaction similar to when I'm in the fear sim so that I can prevent hurting anyone. Finally, I had to agree that if I don't see any kind of change or I seem to be getting worse then I immediately stop.
The entire time we were hashing things out I never forgot what I originally meant to talk about. It was there, lingering like a heavy weight hanging over my head and thinking about anything else made me feel guilty as hell.
Once again things have become all about me like they always seem to do. I really need to stop being so wrapped up in myself and my own troubles and start being there for my sister and friends again.
Eric snorts, the sound a cross between a laugh and a frustrated growl. One look at his expression has me blushing cause I realize I vocalized those thoughts.
"Eric," I sighed then lay my head on his chest tiredly and not wanting to argue.
He mirrors my sigh and wraps his arm around me. Neither of us speak for a few seconds. I don't think either of us want to break this truce like silence but eventually he does.
"I can't say you're wrong to be concerned about your sister." He starts out slowly, carefully choosing his words. "But I was telling you the truth. Divergence can't be easily identified with fear simulation times alone. It requires more in depth testing. We don't have the equipment for that here…and if I have anything to say about it…we never will. I will not allow anything or anyone in here to do that." He states, his tone both firm and soft. While he's doing this he cards a hand through my hair and nuzzles against the top of my head.
My heart leaps with hope at his words and I breathe out those hopes. "You're going to protect her?" I curl my fingers into his chest and hold my breath and wait for his answer.
He grips my hair in his hand and tugs it back so I look up into his stony face. "Don't make me out to be something I'm not. I'm not doing this out of the kindness of my heart. Protecting her protects you. That's all it is."
"But you will protect her," I whisper firmly, my eyes burning with tears. I know that what he's saying is true…he's doing it because of me. That doesn't matter to me because in the end the only thing that matters to me is that Tris is protected.
His face softens as the tears spill from my eyes and he huffs out a sigh. One hand swipes away the tears and the other cups the side of my face. "For you, kitten, yeah I will."
I bury my head in his chest as a ragged and relief filled sob breaks free from me. The tears come and won't stop, though I don't even try. Neither does Eric. He just wraps me up even more in his arms and holds me close.
"Let it go, kitten. I've got you." Eric croons softly into my ear.
I feel my eyes burn even hotter with fresh tears as I squeeze my eyes tightly. This time my cries are silent as I realize that there is something I am afraid of doing with Eric.
I'm afraid to tell him I love him.