Disclaimer: I do not own Divergent, any of the characters or any of the dialogue that comes directly from the text.


"What the hell?!" the girl beside me explodes.

Her tone, volume and language surprise me. I didn't think she had it in her!

"What the hell, me? What the hell, you!" I yell back, turning to face her. She is closer than I expect, our faces meet mere inches apart. Our closeness makes me lose my train of thought and my voice lowers when it returns. "Why didn't you just let Al deal with the consequences of his actions? Why did you have to go and challenge me like that?"

I expect her to back down but she continues unbothered.

"You had Four throw knives at me!" she says angrily, her eyes fixed on mine.

Her defiance should upset me, it's been a long time since anyone has stood up to me like this, but as I feel her warm breath on my skin and notice the rise and fall of her chest between us, I can barely think. I will myself to take a step back from her, to get some space and clear my head, but my body has a mind of its own and I stay in place.

"Those knives weren't meant for you," I start, my voice steady. "They were meant for Al. You brought this on yourself when you decided to stand up for that bumbling moron."

"Someone had to. You were bullying him," her voice is low but the anger is still there.

"I was teaching him a lesson," I respond.

"Oh yeah? And what lesson was that? If we disobey you we get projectiles thrown at our heads?" she spits back.

"You're smarter than that Tris. You should be able to figure it out. What is the definition of Dauntless?" I ask her.

She takes a step back and I immediately miss the warmth of her body near mine. She turns to look at the targets in silence and my eyes follow her. I can't help but notice that training has been kind to her. Her new muscles have transformed her body, creating curves where straight lines used to be.

"Fearless," she states simply and I am broken from my thoughts. "Being Dauntless means being fearless."

Right, Al. We're still talking about Al.

"When I asked Al if he was afraid, what did he say?" I question her.

"He said he was," she replies quietly.

"So in your opinion, was Al being Dauntless?"

"No," her voice is barely a whisper.

"Exactly, so I gave him a chance to show that he could be Dauntless, because being dauntless means facing your fears even if it makes you uncomfortable or unhappy. But then you had to go and open your mouth and I just couldn't let you get away with that."

She turns to face me again, her anger disappearing.

"You told me you cared about my safety and then you go and let Four throw sharp, pointy objects at me. I wouldn't exactly call that safe." Her voice wavers slightly, but she is calm.

"If I had let you get away with challenging me I would have lost the respect of the initiates and I would have been giving you special treatment because there's no way in Hell I would let anyone else get away with it." I answer honestly. "And besides, you weren't in any danger."

"Wasn't in any danger? Knives, Eric, knives at my face!" Her voice is raised, but the fire from earlier is absent.

"You saw Four throw the knives at the beginning of training. Did he miss the target? Even once?" I raise my index finger to punctuate my point.

"No," she says simply.

"And I'm not blind, I see the way he looks at you."

The way you look at each other, I nearly add.

"What?" she responds, eyes wide.

"You can't be that dense, Stiff, he's into you," I roll my eyes.

"What are you talking about? He hates me. He thinks I'm pathetic. Or haven't you noticed? He left me out of the first round of fights, walked away during my fight with Peter and just now, he cut me."

I can't help but snort at her naivety.

"Trust me, he has a thing for you."

A number of emotions flit across her face as her eyes look everywhere but at me. She shakes her head and wraps her arms around herself before opening her mouth once more.

"This is all beside the point."

I look at her in disbelief, but allow the change of subject.

"Fine let's get back to the point then. Do you agree that Al needs to learn how to be fearless?"

"Yes…but…"

"Do you agree that trusting someone who is throwing knives at you takes bravery?" I persist.

"Yes…but…."

"Do you agree that my methods make sense? That having Al stand in front of the target would help him learn to be fearless?" I continue.

"There are better ways, Eric," she insists.

"Do you really believe that?" I pause for her to reply but she stays silent. "Let me ask you something else. If you were being attacked…in the real world, not in training….and it was just you and Al, would you trust him to have your back? To not run and hide?"

"Well…" she starts but trails off.

"Answer the question, Tris," I press.

"No, okay…no I wouldn't trust him," she resigns as her arms to drop to her sides.

"Exactly. This is Dauntless, we train soldiers. And being a soldier means facing your fears head on, it means being brave even when it's hard."

Our eyes lock in silence for a minute. When it seems like neither of us has anything more to say, I break away and start to collect the knives. Soon after, a small sigh and quiet footsteps make me think she has left, but when I look up she is taking down the used targets. We work together, quietly restoring the room. Not another word is spoken.


It's the final day of fights, the last chance for the initiates to improve their rankings before the first round of cuts. Having woken up before my alarm I was able to get a workout in and shower with plenty of time to spare. For the first time in weeks, I actually had time for breakfast in the dining hall.

As I walk through the pit, ready to get this last round of fights over with, I noticed Tris, downcast eyes, shuffling quickly towards the nearby shops. Her outfit catches my eye, a black knee length dress that clings to all of her curves. Not exactly the most practical outfit for hand to hand combat. A dress like that needs to be worn with confidence but Tris is looking anything but. She ducks into the clothing shop and I am drawn towards her.

Arriving at the entrance, I see her violently flipping through racks of pants, a top on a hanger already dangling from her arm. Walk away man. You need to stop getting involved. She's just another initiate.

Ignoring my own warning, I approach her.

"Tris?" I say gently hoping to avoid startling her.

Despite my caution, she jumps and the shirt in her arms clatters to the ground. Her eyes shoot towards mine, wide and glistening with tears that are threatening to fall.

"Tris, did something happened? What's going on?" I ask, stepping towards her.

"Nothing," she responds, her voice is hard, but her hands shake as she bends down to pick up the discarded shirt. "Just leave me alone."

I consider doing as she asks and walking away, but a tugging in my chest draws me forward and I find myself next to her. She refuses to look at me, busying herself with choosing a pair of pants from the rack.

In an attempt to get her attention, I place my hand on her shoulder. She flinches, jerking away from my touch. She looks afraid and I take a step back. I'm used to this expression, used to people being afraid of me. It can even make me feel good, powerful, seeing them shrink before my eyes. But Tris has never looked at me like this and it doesn't feel good. What the hell?

"Don't touch me," she says through gritted teeth before turning and practically jogging to the cash.

I stay where I am as she checks out and retreats from the store.


Confrontation…and the lead up to another…confrontation? Thanks for reading! I'm really excited about the next chapter. I think it's my favourite one so far. I should have it up Friday. Just a bit of tweaking left before I post and it'll be a long one. As always, I can't wait to hear what you think! 3