Eric returned to his lurking during our afternoon session of training. I tried to ignore him, but I couldn't help the little glances in his direction every couple minutes. He seemed bored, I noted to myself. Unamused by the repetition of the fight sequences. Grunting, I threw my knee up to strike the punching bag. I was also getting bored, too. Despite Four showing us how to fight with our elbows, knees, and palms this morning, I still felt like our pace was slower than a crawl.

"Alright, circle up!" a loud voice bellowed out, saving me from starting another set of kicks and hits. My arms dropped to my sides immediately, aching from today's exertions. The group gathered around the fighting ring that was set up towards the back of the room, and I half-jogged over there to avoid Four's wrath.

But it wasn't Four gathering us over by the ring. Eric was standing dead-center on the thickly padded floor, rocking back and forth again on his feet with his arms crossed sternly. While Four was intimidating when he summoned the group together, Eric emanated an aura of pure confidence and power.

"Four and I have decided that you're ready, more or less, to move past fighting inanimate objects," Eric explained in a decidedly neutral tone. One glance over to Four - who was crossing his arms and staring down the back windows as though they owed him money - told a very different story. They had no more collaborated together than I had collaborated with this punching bag. Eric was clearly flaunting his status, making Four kowtow to Eric's training plans rather than his own. Rather like yesterday, I decided with a frown. So this was Eric's game.

Eric looked pointedly over to his rival and continued speaking. "So we're going to pair you up and have you fight. No biting, but other than that, you can use any skills you've learned thus far," he said with a smirk. "Oh, and no shooting each other. That was nasty, wasn't it Four, when those two girls tried to pull a gun on each other?" He was practically bouncing on his feet now, enjoying himself as Four stared as intently as possible at the wall.

Four didn't break his gaze, just replied in a monotonous voice, "I'll assign you to pairs and you fight until you successfully knock the other out or they cannot fight anymore. Concession is also an option-"

Eric growled deep in his throat, his cocky visage disappearing in a flash. "If you want to end up Factionless," he said threateningly. "Only a coward concedes in a true fight." My eyes widened and my stomached immediately felt like it was tied in knots. That was it? Fight until you get knocked out or you beat the other person up til they do? Four gritted his teeth and searched the group for his first pair of fighters.

Al looked like he was going to be sick, his face paler than the chalk covering the fighting ring. When Four called for him and Will to get up there, I had to look away. He barely even moved once he got up there, his arms hanging loosely to his sides. Eric had stepped aside, clearing the ring for the first round of fights.

"Remember, you will be graded on the outcome of everything you do, initiates," Four reminded them in a cold voice. I didn't want to watch the fight, but I couldn't tear my eyes away. Will started off strong, hitting Al hard across his chest and once directly aside his head.

Christina called out for Al to "move, you idiot!" and that seemed to knock some kind of sense into him. Something tipped in the fight as he surged forward, wrapping an arm around Will's torso and pummelling his other fist into the smaller boy's stomach. Will retaliated with two strong slams against the side of Al's face, wrestling free from his grasp.

"That's it, enough playing around," Eric growled appreciatively. Will seemed to be winded, not having taken the pummelling well at all. He dodged some of Al's punches, but he made a fatal mistake by dropping his guard to cough into his elbow. With a grunt, Al threw a punch directly at Will's jaw, connecting with a solid twack that echoed through the room.

Eyes rolling, Will dropped to the ground in a heap. Someone shrieked - Christina, I think - and Peter whistled long and low. "Didn't think you had it in you, softy," he crooned, a wicked smile across his face.

Al seemed to be in a trance, his gaze transfixed on Will's unmoving body. He didn't move until Four stepped up into the ring, rolling Will onto his back to check that he was still okay. Lifting Will's eyelids, his concerns seemed to be somewhat alleviated. "He's going to be fine," Four murmured, more to calm Al down than for anyone else, I think. The tall youth was looking glassy-eyed and moving slowly.

"Come on," Four grunted as he tugged Will's arm over his shoulder. "Help me bring him to the infirmary, just to be sure." Drew and Peter started whispering to each other, and I didn't like how happy they seemed to see one of their fellow classmates getting knocked clear out. Initiation or not, fighting to unconsciousness wasn't sitting well with me.

The three forms made their way out the door, Al seeming to come to his senses the further he walked away from the ring. Eric wasted no time after that, assigning the next pair of fighters in a bored voice. Molly and Edward squared off after a moment, shuffling their bare feet on the chalked up floor.

My stomach was still churning and I barely registered the next two fights. It was just Drew, Christina, and I left on deck to go. Four still hadn't come back with Al, and I just wanted the day to be over. Eric called the result of the last fight - Myra had to be slapped awake by Peter after taking a foot to the jaw - before looking over those of us remaining.

"Drew, you'll be fighting-" he began quietly, a predatory smile spreading across his face.

"Christina." From the entrance of the training room, Four stormed in, his mood beyond sour. "You'll be fighting Christina," he repeated once more, glaring at Eric as though he dared him to challenge his decision.

My heart started beating again and I let out the breath I didn't know I had been holding in. Maybe it made me a coward, but I was glad I didn't have to fight today. After two days of training, my muscles were aching as it was. I didn't need to add bruises and hurt ribs to that mixture.

I looked at the ground, not wanting to meet anyone's eyes. I could feel Christina tense up beside me, but she still got up and walked determinedly to the center of the ring. "Fine, then," Eric growled, his teeth gnashed together. When Drew and Christina didn't start immediately, he swore under his breath before shouting, "go!" to the pair of them.

I watched the fight with unseeing eyes, barely noticing when Christina took a nasty fall to the ground, clutching her knee. Somehow she rallied and pinned Drew under her small frame, crying out furiously as she attacked him. He stopped struggling, going limp after a he couldn't throw her off.

"That's enough for today," Four said, glaring at Eric still. He hadn't said anything since he was interrupted earlier, leaning against the wall with a sullen expression. I did have to give him credit, though. He was ignoring Four like a pro, staring into the empty in front of him without so much as twitching when Four walked past him to the entrance.

Christina panted as she helped Drew stand up, giving me a weary thumbs up. I smiled at her from my spot on the floor, wishing that I could work this tension out of my stomach. She hopped out of the ring and made a beeline for her water bottle, chugging the rest of it before she spoke. "Well, you must be feeling pretty lucky not to fight, eh Tris?" she asked.

I shrugged and pushed myself up off the floor. "I mean, I was exhausted just watching you guys go at it," I admitted with a chuckle. "But on the other hand, I'm going to be that much more unprepared tomorrow." A twinge of panic cascaded through me and I knew then that had been what was really eating at me. Pain was one thing, but I was more afraid of getting my ass handed to me because I hadn't gotten to fight. Maybe the bruised ribs would have been worth it to feel more confident.

Christina laughed, shaking her head at me. "No way. One fight isn't going to magically make any of us better than you. Especially tomorrow when this," she pointed to her eye which was already blackening, " is going to be nice and tender." I nodded slowly, still not convinced.

She crunched up her water bottle and ran her hands through her hair once more. "I'm going to go check on Will in the infirmary since we got out early. You coming?" she asked casually. It was nice, I thought, to be invited, but the idea of visiting someone in the hospital just didn't sit right with me. It felt too much like something that Caleb and I would have been expected to do. I could imagine him telling me to be selfless, that visiting Will would help him to recover faster. I also imagined Caleb in his new Erudite blue, totally ruining any lingering desire of mine to go with Christina.

I excused myself, claiming that I wanted to stretch out my stressed muscles before sitting down for dinner. She extracted a promise from me to not miss them at dinner before she disappeared out the door.

Sighing, I walked over to my assigned locker and checked that it was still solidly locked up from earlier. Sure enough, the padlock was still in place and fastened securely. "That doesn't look like stretching," Eric's voice echoed in the nearly-empty training room.

Whirling around, I spotted him still leaning against that same wall. I'd assumed he would leave as soon as the fights were done, nothing left to attract his attention. "It's rude to eavesdrop," I retorted, settling onto one hip and crossing my arms.

Eric pushed off the wall and meandered towards me, his hands now tucked in his pockets casually. "Just pointing out an observation. Please, go right ahead with whatever you were going to do," he replied. I frowned, not quite placing his mood. After butting heads with Four all afternoon, I was sure that he should have been acting, well, differently than this. All relaxed and mellow.

"Okay then," I said neutrally, turning back to my locker. I didn't have a plan for what I had even wanted to do though, so I just frowned at the wall. I was still anxious from watching those fights, waiting to be told whether I'd be fighting or not. I restlessly drummed my fingers on the metal grill of the locker, contemplating what would settle me down. I could hear Eric's footsteps petering out, stopping somewhere near the table where we had been working at yesterday.

Scowling, I turned and looked at him. "Why did Four pick Christina to fight Drew? And why did you want me to fight him instead?" I asked him, the need to know overpowering my unease with talking with him. "There were only three of us left and clearly you weren't happy when Four told Christina to fight." I picked at the material of my pants, waiting to see how the temperamental leader would respond.

Eric stilled, stopping whatever he'd been doing at the table. After a moment, he turned and looked at me, leaning against the table with a familiar cocky smile on his face. "You wanted to fight," he said. It wasn't a question.

I nodded in agreement, waiting for him to fill the silence between us. "You actually wanted to fight," he repeated in that same neutral voice.

"Yes," I spat back. Why did he feel it was necessary to repeat what had already been established? To prove he knew everything I was thinking?

"And you still want to fight."

I shifted on my feet, thinking for a moment before answering. "I don't want to be left behind. I want to finish initiation without always having to catch up to what everyone else has already done. Like with shooting yesterday," I replied slowly.

A glint appeared in his eyes and he pushed off from the table, looking like he was heading towards me. His direction changed suddenly and he walked instead to the padded ring. "Then get over here, Tris," he called over his shoulder. "Prove it."

I blinked twice, still amazed by how fast he could change how he acted from one moment to the next. It was enough to give a girl whiplash. "Fight you?" I asked nervously, moving from the lockers to the ring in slow, cautious steps.

He chuckled darkly, turning to watch me as I approached the ring. "You wouldn't be able to fight me without some serious training beyond initiation," he said smugly, "but I can at least show you how to use your strengths against an opponent."

I stepped into the ring, not taking off my boots since Eric hadn't either. No sense in giving him another advantage over me. "Right, so if I have no chance of beating you, what should I do then?" I asked, flexing my fingers.

He started circling around me, his grey eyes looking me over sharply. "From what I see," he answered in a low voice, "you have speed on your side, but not a lot of muscle mass. That'll come from practice and exercise. For right now, you'll want to stay light on your feet and try to out-maneuver your opponent: me."

Nodding my head, I brought my arms up in the blocking position that Four had shown to us. Without waiting to see if Eric was done talking, I darted forward, bringing my right elbow up to collide with his side. Half of a curse escaped his mouth before he moved out of the way, making me grin. It didn't land on him, but I had surprised his cocky ass.

"Like that?" I asked as I slipped back, away from his longer reach and substantially stronger hits. Eric grunted in reply before stepping up to follow me, making two very deliberate and obvious attempts to hit me. By bringing my arms up and dodging I was able to evade both, though the motions made my core muscles twinge.

I retaliated again with a strike to his side, my fist aimed at his exposed ribs. At the last minute, I brought up my opposite leg and kneed him in the other side. When he moved away from my fist, he collided directly with my leg, earning me another swear and a throbbing kneecap. My hit was solid, but so was his torso.

"Nice misdirection," he commented idly, not seeming to be affected by the force of my blow in the slightest. "A little on the slow side, but the idea was solid." He lashed out with a series of blows, all of which I managed to dodge until I slipped on the mat. His fist glanced off my shoulder with enough force to twist my body, allowing his next move to knock me down to the floor.

Eric stopped his assault then, standing over my tangle of feet and arms with a smirk on his face. Goddammit, he was enjoying this. "Again," he said simply, taking two steps back to allow me to stand up on my own.

Gritting my teeth, I pushed off from the ground and we began to spar once more. Almost all of my hits were avoided, his motions smooth as he predicted exactly how I was approaching each attack. Twice more he knocked me off balance and I had to sway heavily in my boots to avoid falling completely. The second time I overcompensated and pushed myself into his chest.

"Steady now," Eric said huskily, splaying one hand on my hip to keep me from falling once more. I pushed against his chest, tearing away from his grip and settling back into a fighting position. Watching his eyes carefully, I rolled my shoulders and tried to clear my mind. That single touch, so very different from any kind of fighting hold, had me flushed and reeling. "Stay focused, Tris," he teased just before lashing out with a quick strike to my side. "Don't let your opponent distract you."

I let the blow land, turning with it so that I could sidestep him and go for his shoulder. Christina had done something similar with Drew, hitting him from the behind to confuse him. Eric was not so easy to surprise, turning quickly to match where I was facing.

I started getting frustrated, and I could tell my attacks were becoming more erratic. I took a blow to the knee and shoulder before I returned with an elbow to Eric's neck. Grinning, I circled quickly behind him and tried to grapple him with an arm thrown around his throat. He ignored my tired kicks to his legs and shifted quickly.

The world spun around me and I stared at the gymnasium ceiling in utter surprise. My breath was knocked out from me as a heavy body pressed me to the ground. "Fuck," I panted, straining my wrists against Eric's hands. I was pinned to the mat, my arms stretched over my head and Eric straddling my hips. His grey eyes were inches from mine, and I suddenly realized just how compromising of a position I was in.

"You tried to choke me out," he said in an amused voice. I blinked, trying to remember just exactly what my plan had been before I'd been thrown to the floor. "Next time, don't let me control your balance."

"I'll try to remember that," I growled, trying to wrench my hands free. His grip was like iron and I was getting no closer to freedom. "Shit, I can't get up," I admitted quietly after another moment of fruitless struggling.

Eric raised his pierced eyebrow and just continued to stare down at me. "So? Figure out how to get out," he retorted shortly. He continued to leer over me, staring intently at me as I thought. I would have thought it unnerving if I wasn't trying to break his grip. I gave up wrestling against his hands, exhaustion settling down deep into my arms. It was clear that I wasn't going to be able to brute force my way out of his hold.

An idea came to me after a moment. Not wanting to waste any more time thinking, I lurched forward, slamming my forehead directly into his. Stars encompassed my vision, but I could still feel my wrists enough to tell his grip had slackened. Grunting, I yanked my arms down along the floor, clearing his grip smoothly, and slammed my now-free elbow into the side of his skull.

With a whoomph of air, he rolled to the side. My vision still starry-eyed, I pushed myself to a half-sitting position. "Does that count?" I spat at him, but I didn't have the energy behind it. A low grunt answered me and a rush of pride rolled through me.

"Smart," he admitted after a long pause, "hitting me on the dermals." My head still ringing, it took me a second to place what he meant. I reached up and tenderly touched my own forehead. Twin cuts twinged in pain when I touched the left side. My headbutt had slammed into his piercings directly, stabbing me and hurting him that much more.

We sat there for another minute, silently staring at open air until the head pain cleared. He moved first, grunting slightly as he pushed himself back to a standing position. I wiped my hands on my pants to clean off the pinpricks of blood and followed his lead. "We're done for today," Eric finally said. He looked me over once more, smirking when he got to my forehead.

I nodded and hauled myself off the fighting ring, wanting nothing more than to get to dinner suddenly. The silence in the room was stifling, never mind the intensity in Eric's eyes as he watched me. Over by the lockers, I pulled on my sweatshirt that I'd brought in the morning, already feeling cold from the sudden change of activity. I wiped at my eyebrow again, satisfied when no blood smeared on my fingers. The cuts had already stopped their slow bleeding.

I heard the door open and I looked up to see Eric about to leave. "Wait," I called out. He paused, looking over to me with a hint of surprise. I swallowed hard, but pressed on with the question that had been eating at me. "Could I, I mean, would I have beaten Drew? Earlier, I mean. When you wanted me to fight him." I wanted to believe that I could have, that I had the strength to do it.

"I guess we'll see tomorrow," he replied smoothly. Then, he stepped out of the training room, sliding the door shut behind him. I let out a breath, stuffing my hands into my pockets. That wasn't quite the confidence booster I'd been looking for.

Thinking further on it, I sighed and walked slowly to the hall and down to dinner. Expecting overflowing praise from someone like Eric was pretty stupid, but I would have been happy with a "maybe." Setting my jaw, I quickened my pace. I didn't need his approval to feel like a Dauntless. I'd held my own in training so far and I refused to let these fights psyche me out.

Christina waved me over to the table she'd staked out. Will was next to her, looking pale but smiling all the same. I waved back and walked smoothly over, a smile of my own growing. Today was a good day.

A/N: I said the title of the story hell yeah ;D You knew it had to come up at least once. Five chapters in seemed like it was overdue to actually establish the theme of this fic. Eric might have his eye on Tris, but he sure as hell isn't going to coddle her or make anything easy for her. If she wants to be Dauntless - if she wants to be more than just some initiate in anyone's eyes *cough cough* - then she has to prove it.

Also, fuck fight scenes man. There's only so many ways I can say "they punched at each other" without repeating the same actions, so I hope it was still fascinating.