My stomach was growling beyond belief by the time Four dismissed us for lunch. We'd gone over proper weapon handling, which included doing another ten laps around the training room with rifles in hand and pistols in shoulder holsters. Much to my chagrin, Eric had been correct in his prediction of how Four would react. Both I and Al got held back from target practice, although I didn't quite see how Al's inability to run the full ten laps was a legitimate reason to keep him from shooting.

"After today, you'll be expected to check and maintain any of your assigned equipment before using it," Four explained just before dismissing us. "A weapon in hand is useless if it's not cleaned properly." Christina tapped her foot, impatiently staring at Four. He didn't seem phased, smiling blandly as he continued to talk about how maintenance also included making sure that our own things weren't lost or "lost," as that would result in an immediate reduction in points.

I had a niggling feeling that we'd lose points if our gear was "lost and found" by another initiate. Dauntless seemed to not care whether something was strictly fair or not, just that you got what needed to be done, done.

Finally we were officially let loose from the training room, under orders to come back before one o'clock or "not come back at all." I checked the padlock on my assigned weapons locker once more before tugging Christina along with me down the dark corridors. "For fuck's sake, Tris, I'm hungry too," she grumbled, but I could tell she wasn't actually upset.

"Well at least you got to eat breakfast," I replied sarcastically. "I just got to run around in circles for a bit and watch Eric clean his gun." That wasn't entirely true, but I didn't want to get into what actually happened. I was glad for the dim lights as my face warmed slightly.

"If you mean we got to eat stale, leftover blueberry muffins, then sure we had breakfast," Will complained from ahead of us.

We entered the dining hall and my heart melted at the sight of honest to goodness hot food. "I would have given my left arm for one, still," I admitted with a sigh. We lined up and grabbed trays, the conversation stalling as I filled mine with all the fixings for an enormous sandwich. At the end of the line, I had to carefully balance my water bottle on top of my bun so that I could still hold the tray with both hands.

Will lead the charge to a clear table, thankfully clear of Four or any other Dauntless members. I sat down and assembled my monster sandwich, the end result making Al and Christina laugh. "I guess it didn't take you long to get off Abnegation food," Al commented with a genuine smile.

I shrugged and took a bite of the beast of a sandwich. I immediately regretted putting both mustard and mayonnaise on it, but hey, live and let live. "No sense being selfless when you've got to carb-load to make it through training," I mumbled through my full mouth.

Everyone laughed at that, making me feel a bit more relaxed. This morning might have been everything I hadn't expected from Dauntless, but I could deal with that if I had people to laugh it all off with. Polite conversation trickled off as we each chowed down, a content silence falling between the four of us.

A tray bashed into the back of my head, and I turned to see that it belonged to Molly. She sneered at me and said in a sarcastic drawl, "Sorry. Didn't see you there, Stiff. Must be your Abnegation leaking through your tough-girl facade."

I gritted my teeth and resisted the urge to bash her tray out of her hands with a well aimed elbow. "Bite me, Molly. At least I can run without tripping over my own feet," I retorted. Her face flared in an ugly snarl, but I turned back to my food.

I could still hear her huffing from behind me, like she was aghast that I wasn't going to take her crap laying down. "You're still not going to make it through initiation, Stiff," she finally growled before stomping away angrily. I raised an eyebrow and looked at my friends - I suppose I could call them that at this point, since we all at least tolerated each other - as they shook their heads at Molly.

"Ignore her," Will suggested. "Same for Peter and his cronies. They're a bunch of assholes who're just as scared of being cut as we are."

Christina nodded and Al added in cheerfully, "I mean, right now it's anyone's game for who can get cut."

"Statistically speaking..." Will started to explain himself eagerly. Al didn't give him the chance, elbowing him hard enough in the stomach that he coughed and sputtered instead. He said 'oops' in a very unconvincing tone and I could only laugh more.

Unfortunately, Christina took that moment to bring the conversation back around to training. "Speaking of ranking and cuts, what were you doing earlier, Tris? Do you really want to be cut so badly that you'll start shooting randomly at the wall?" She looked genuinely worried and my laughs turned to a grimace.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," I sighed heavily. I tried looking down at my sandwich instead of meeting her gaze, but the sight of the pickles I'd pulled off in disgust wasn't really doing it for me either. "It was a little idiotic."

Al shook his head. "Not from what I saw. You were going way faster than the rest of us, even with that blindfold that Eric put on you," he eagerly insisted. I glared at him, wishing he'd kept his mouth shut. Obviously it wasn't a secret per se that Eric challenged me to rebuild my gun blindfolded, but I didn't want people to think I was doing it because I thought I was better than them or something.

Christina's eyebrows shot straight up and her attention was now 100% locked on to me. "No. Way. Creepy asshole Eric blindfolded you and made you do that shit?" she asked incredulously.

I fidgeted with my hands under the table. "I, well, I guess so. He's one of the leaders, so it's not like I'm going to tell him to go away, you know?" I explained weakly. And it was amazing to actually accomplish something that no one else had, I mused to myself as well. To meet a challenge head on. My reluctance to ignore him had nothing at all to do with his imposing glare and close contact.

Christina still looked unconvinced. "You'd better be careful is all I want you to know. Because as impressed as Eric might get to be, Four still is the one training you. Unless you really like running laps," she replied sarcastically. Al groaned at that, and I had to agree with the sentiment.

"You know, I heard that both Four and Eric were in the same class two years ago," Will mentioned thoughtfully. "First and second ranked, they were. Four turned down leadership and Eric got the job instead. Maybe that's why Eric's screwing with Four's trainees? Because he didn't get first ranked?" He looked contemplative, stabbing at his potato salad methodically.

"Either way," I interjected as cheerfully as possible, "so far it hasn't been a terrible first day!" I didn't want to try to think of reasons why Eric was telling me to fire at targets and skip Four's punishments. I just wanted to get through the rest of the day and pass stage one. Despite not officially having scored Dauntless, I was fitting in well enough with the lifestyle here, and I wanted that to continue. My divergence was not going to keep me from belonging here. Neither was my training.

Al's watch beeped rapidly, his five minute warning before Four's declared deadline. "Time to learn how to fight," he said quietly. I couldn't tell if his disappointment came from having to leave the lunch hall or because he really didn't want to fight. I put the thought out of my mind as I gathered up my tray. I had bigger things to worry about.

"Keep tension in your core, Tris," Four repeated for the third time in a single hour. My half-open mouth pressed into a scowl as I threw another punch at the bag in front of me. I'll show you tension, I growled internally, wishing I knew just exactly what he meant.

I got in another four or five punches before I heard him sigh heavily from behind me. "Right here," Four said in a softer voice, and his hands were suddenly around my waist. No, not quite. His fingers pressed against my stomach and he gently adjusted how I was standing. "Try now," he murmured, stepping back away from me.

Swallowing hard, I gave the bag another punch. It felt awkward, but I felt the bag move more than it had before. Immediately I turned my head and looked at Four. "Like that?" I asked. Alright, I might have been playing up the ignorant student card a bit so that he didn't think I was a pompous asshole like Peter or Drew, but it couldn't hurt.

Four nodded and something that could have been related to a smile ghosted across his face. "Keep at it. You don't have enough muscle mass to rely on just your arms for punching. You need to use your whole body," he explained. I nodded, hoping that if I just kept on agreeing, it might stick in my mind.

Determined to prove I could learn, I turned back to the bag and started the short cycle of hits that we were supposed to be working through. Four lingered behind me through the first set before grunting in approval and walking away. I relaxed for a moment when he left, rolling my shoulders and glancing around the room once again. Christina was flying through her punches, each hit not moving the bag much but her speed would definitely make her a force to be reckoned with if she had been fighting someone for real. Four had moved on to work with Edward, one of the Erudite transfers.

I didn't spot Eric anywhere around me, which suited me just fine. Maybe he was tormenting the Dauntless initiates since he'd spent all morning lurking with our group. My breathing back to normal, I turned back to the bag and slowly began punching once more. Each collision with the heavy bag stung my knuckles and sweat was beading heavily on my forehead. I checked my position, nodded to myself, and struck again. I would not let my inexperience keep me from proving myself.

"I'm totally going to get cut," Al moaned into his hands. We were sitting around at our table in the dining hall, utterly exhausted from today's training regimen. Even tireless Christina looked put out, her head propped up on her hand. "I'm not going to survive multiple weeks of this bullshit."

I felt pity rise in my stomach and I thought to his noisy sobs last night. If he was feeling this down and out after twenty four hours of initiation, I couldn't fathom either how he was going to make it through the final cuts. "Chill out, Al," I finally said after an awkward silence had fallen over the group. "You'll get stronger. I mean, you've got more muscle than Will, Christina, and I put together."

God, I did not want to be his shoulder to cry on. Ex-Abnegation or not, I could not wrangle up enough sympathy for Al. Not when literally all of us were going through the same struggles. "I just don't know if I'm cut out for Dauntless," he admitted with a heavy sigh. My eyes met Will's and I pleaded silently for him to say something encouraging.

The skinny boy clapped his hand on Al's shoulder. Awkwardly, Will asked, "Would you rather struggle and be stronger, or give up and be Factionless? Because this whole initiation is clearly designed to challenge us. Keep at it, man." Al sniffed once, but he was nodding along with Will's words.

"Okay then," Al said, his voice cracking as he forced a smile onto his face. "Then let's be Dauntless." Christina let out a tired cheer, her free hand pumping up into the air. She sarcastically suggested that we get tattoos, which Al seemed to latch on to with more vigor than I'd seen him display for anything all day. If I was paying more attention, I think I would have noticed its hollowness, but I just didn't have the energy.

The more he talked it up, the more Christina and Will seemed to jump onto the idea as well. "I mean, we are supposed to be embracing Dauntless," Christina said eagerly. "So, fuck it, let's get inked up!"

So in a rush of energy and excitement, I found myself swept up with the group scrambling up one of the treacherous pathways in the Pit to the tattoo parlor. Al looked at the designs for less than five minutes before selecting a wicked looking spider. Christina seemed torn between several designs, which was drastically different than Will who didn't seem to be looking for one at all.

I flipped through a few pages myself, chuckling along with the others at some of the ridiculous designs - a housecat eating a cow's skeleton? A drooling Saint Bernard? A pile of skulls shaped like a dick? My mind flashed to Tori's bird tattoo. Now that meant something to her; it was more than just a badge of honor to the faction.

The next page contained a flock of ravens, lifting as one from an imaginary field. Something about it struck a chord deep within me and I slipped the page from the binder. "Three of these," I said, tapping the page with a finger. "Across here." I sketched a line across my collarbone, leading from my shoulder to my heart. Christina grinned and gave me a thumbs up from her perch next to Al, who was already getting prepped to be inked.

I lucked out and snagged Tori to be my artist. To say she was surprised to see me was an understatement, and I was glad that my friends were too preoccupied to notice. "You made a mistake choosing Dauntless, Beatrice," she whispered urgently, pushing me onto one of the chairs and tugging the curtain around us.

"It's just Tris now," I replied automatically. "And I picked one of my aptitudes! Trust the test and all that crap." She shook her head, biting her lip even as she methodically prepared her tools. For the first time all day, I genuinely was afraid that I had made a terrible mistake. I was on Four's watch list, I couldn't punch very well, and now Tori - who had seen into my mind essentially - thought I was screwing up.

Then, her hands stopped moving frantically and she just sighed loudly. Her eyes cast to the dark ceiling, Tori just stared for a moment. "You did get Dauntless as one of your faction candidates. And, correct me if I'm wrong, you were first jumper yesterday," she said softly, her voice barely audible above the noise of the parlor.

I nodded silently, holding my breath in anticipation. "You… might… be able to survive initiation here," she finally admitted. "But it's going to be even more difficult for you if you don't pay attention to exactly how you're acting. The people here - the people in charge - won't stand for having someone like you around." Her eyes finally broke off from the ceiling and she returned to prepping her tools.

Sitting up straighter in the chair, I tugged my sleeve off to expose where I wanted the tattoo. "They're going to have to deal with it," I growled. "Because I'm not going anywhere now."

I picked up my boots from the ground, listening intently to the heavy breathing all around me. The rest of the transfers were still sleeping, enjoying the bliss of the last hour or so of sleep we'd get before Four was supposed to wake us at.

My muscles ached as I crept from the room, each quiet step sending shivers of pain along my legs. So why on earth was I even up? Ah, yes. My guilty conscience had woken me at the wonderful hour of five AM, my unfinished laps for Four haunting me in my broken dreams.

Confident that I was no longer going to wake up anyone unpleasant, I slid my boots on and laced them up with fingers still half-numb from sleep. Walking to the training room was uneventful - most of Dauntless was clearly still asleep. When I got to our assigned gymnasium, I slipped the door open, and went inside to start jogging without much thought.

Pumping my arms as I ran made the sensitive skin where I'd gotten inked sting. I chewed on the inside of my lip, concentrating on controlling my speed each time I lapped the room so as to ignore my aching body. As I rounded the doorway for the fourth time, I noticed that it was now closed up. I glanced around the room, breaking my fervent concentration to actually pay attention to my surroundings.

Another dark figure was keeping pace with me, directly opposite me in the room. Since I had only put on half of the lights, it took another half lap for me to identify who was mirroring my actions. The dirty blonde hair and crawling tattoos along his arms and neck was all I needed to recognize Eric. I swore under my breath as one of my strides landed wrong, sending a sharp pain up along my leg. I'd distracted myself, watching him as he ran.

I set out to ignore him completely after that, finishing the last of my assigned laps without once looking across the way to where he was. My muscles were screaming at this point and I dropped from a jog to a stuttering walk with a heavy sigh of relief. "Giving up so soon?" I heard Eric call from somewhere behind me.

My steps continued until I reached another corner and I couldn't walk any more. "Not giving up," I retorted breathlessly. "Just trying to not collapse before breakfast." I stretched out one leg slowly, trying to alleviate the shooting muscle pains. When I switched to the other one, Eric had caught up to me, stopping smoothly.

I glanced up at him, envious that he didn't even look bothered by the exertion. "Is part of leadership getting up before dawn to show up trainees?" I asked him sarcastically. "Because if so, there's no way I'll want that job."

He barked out a laugh at that, crossing his arms over his chest. "You're pretty funny for an ex-Stiff," Eric said wryly. "Is that why you had to transfer?" He looked me over carefully and again I wished I wasn't as winded as I was.

Something caught his eye and he stepped closer to me. Tired as I was, I still reflexively moved away, not liking the predatory gaze he was now sporting. "Or did you leave because you're actually one of us?" his voice was much lower and softer now, practically a purr. A smirk spread across his face and again he stepped closer to me. With the corner directly behind me, I didn't have any more space to retreat to.

Eric's hand reached out and brushed away my hair from where it had fallen, his fingertips just grazing my still-healing tattoo. It stung, despite the cream that Tori had given to Christina and I to speed up the healing. My face was burning with embarrassment at this point, with Eric being this close and his hand touching my skin, but just barely.

"I-I left because I didn't belong there," I said hoarsely. Why had my mouth dried up so suddenly? God, maybe I was going to pass out before breakfast. I still couldn't breathe, what with Eric now resting his hand on the wall, just aside from my neck.

My answer only widened his smirk, and his eyes switched from ogling my collarbone to meeting mine with that same predatory intensity. "I like your ink, Tris," he murmured slowly. "I like it as much as I like your fire." He continued to stare at me, his body inches from mine, suspended by his arm that didn't quite pin me to the wall.

"Does it mean something?" he asked, tilting his head slightly. I swallowed hard, trying to regain the ability to speak. His sudden change in attitudes astounded me, keeping me off guard.

"Do yours?" I retorted after a moment, jutting my chin out and looking pointedly at the angled marks crawling up his neck. "That had to have hurt, so there's no way you got them just for kicks."

After five long seconds of my heart beating in my ears, he finally answered. "They're leadership marks," Eric remarked casually. "It's a badge of honor to wear them, which is why we get them on the neck. The pain doesn't matter, not when you're Dauntless." Pride had replaced his hungry stare, and I blinked at him in awe.

Before I could say anything else, he pushed off from the wall and stalked away, heading to the doorway. "You should stretch first, before you run," he called over his shoulder. "You don't want to hurt yourself." Eric wrenched the door open, turning to look at me one more time before leaving.

I'd just started breathing normally, the flush fading from my face. "I still want to know what your tattoos mean, Tris. Don't think you made me forget," he said, the cocky smirk back on his face. I stared back at him, watching as he stepped out of the gymnasium and into the blue-lit hallway.

A/N: Hello, hello! Such a long, split up chapter! Hope you liked all of it! I know I enjoyed pushing the plot along even if there wasn't much of our fearless leader present.

[EDIT - 1 Mar 2017 -

I've gotten a few comments about static stretches not being appropriate for a pre-run workout. I'm not a trainer or a gym rat, so I apologize if that ruins your experience with this fic. Future chapters (anything after ch 18) will be sure to either switch to dynamic stretching or none at all]