"Tris! Tris you gotta get up, now!" someone shouted frantically, shaking my shoulders. I tore open my eyes and tried to see what in God's name was going on.

"Don't shake her, she's in the infirmary for Pete's sake!" a second voice chimed in from my other side. I did a double take, trying to see through the painfully bright lights to tell just who was waking me up so disgracefully. Will was to my left, looking quite concerned. Christina was the one being loud to my right, still shaking my arm.

I shoved her hand away tiredly and sat up on my elbows. "I'm up, I'm up," I groaned. "Now will you quiet down and tell me what's so damn important?"

Just then I noticed a very sheepish Al standing at the foot of my bed. "Excellent. The gang's all here," I muttered to myself. "Just a fun morning in the inf-"

Christina cut me off before I could ramble on anymore. "You need to get up and going. Four just woke us up - all the initiates, not just transfers - and told us to go to the train tracks. Some kind of tradition, game, I don't know," she quickly recounted.

"And we have seven minutes left before they leave," Al added unhelpfully from the foot of the bed.

I sat up straighter, tucking stray hair back behind my ear. "Right now? You're leaving right now?" I asked frantically.

Will nodded. "We are. You've gotta come with us. Immediately," he insisted. It was the most animated I'd ever seen him.

I kicked off the sheets and immediately regretted the decision. I wasn't sore, per se, but the motion sent my stomach into overdrive. "Ow ow ow, cramp!" I whimpered, hunkering over as the muscles spasmed.

"Probably from your treatment," Will offered unhelpfully. Christina continued to look frantic.

"I know it hurts - right, does it hurt? But, but we need to get to the tracks ASAP. If you miss another training thing, I don't know if your score can take it," she said, worry evident in her voice.

I nodded tightly. I might not know entirely what was going on, but if it was training, I knew that I needed to be there. "Got it. I can power through," I winced. The tightness was aggravating and impossible to ignore, but I had to get moving.

Stepping off of the bed, I shoved on the clothes that Christina handed me. God bless her for thinking to bring me something to wear. I was shoving on my socks when Al spoke up again. "Four minutes," he said in a pained voice. "Until they kick us all out."

I whirled around and glared at him. "Then go. I don't need three other people to help me put on shoes," I snapped. His wide eyes stared back at me in disbelief. "Go! All of you!" I insisted, waving at the exit door.

Will and Al started immediately, darting out in a clatter of stomping boots. Christina tried to stay and give me my boots, but I pushed her away. "I'm fine, just go with them," I growled, my fingers slipping as I tied my shoes quicker than I could function.

Christina whispered thanks to me as she, too, left the infirmary. I paused for a moment, trying to collect my thoughts as best as possible. I had to make it down to the train tracks before they left. And then make it through whatever training game thing that was going on. Piece of cake, right?

My laces were in something resembling knots and I shoved myself back to a standing position. The motion sent another wave of almost-pain through me, but I prayed that the painkillers would last another few hours. With a resigned grunt, I set off at a trot through the halls.

The others must have been booking it because I didn't see any trace of them as I rushed down the stairs to the lower levels. By the last flight I was taking the steps two at a time, praying that I would make it in time.

My morning training paid off as I put on a rush of speed past the garages onto the loading area for the train. I tore through the doorway just in time to see the train slowly making its way out of the station.

"Oh hell no," I whispered, forcing myself to keep running. Thankfully this was one of the areas where the trains actually stopped rather than just slowed down, so I had a little bit more time. Pumping my arms, I ran full throttle to the last open doorway and reached my arm up to grab the handle.

My fingers wrapped tightly around it, I kicked off from the ground onto the edge of the train door. A hand grabbed my free arm, pulling me farther inside. "Is this your hobby? Jumping onto moving vehicles?" Eric taunted me cooly, letting go of my forearm once my footing was stable.

I rolled my shoulders and bent over, catching my breath. I had a killer stitch in my side, but I had made it. "It's more fun than watercolors and cheaper than dirt," I wheezed in response.

The rest of the train car passengers, of whom I realized existed at just that moment, sat in mute surprise. Four blinked in rapid succession, apparently trying to process what just happened. "I'm sorry, but can you just tell me who said you were coming on this exercise?" he finally managed to spit out.

I tilted my head up to look at my instructor, trying to manage a weak smile. "I, uh, I did," I replied simply. "I heard we had training, so I made sure I made it on time. Well, almost on time," I added after another moment of silence.

Eric chuckled from behind me before leaning against the edge of the open door. Four's attention swivelled to him. "Why is this so funny to you? Twelve hours ago you didn't want her fighting and now you're okay that she's back in training?" he asked incredulously.

"Twelve hours ago she was sporting bruised ribs. She's been on steroids and enough codeine to block out an amputation since then. And I really don't think that Capture the Flag is quite the same as a knockout brawl," Eric replied cooly.

I could finally stand up fully, my breath caught. "All that," I added lamely. "And the fact that I want to be here. I ran half the complex in, like, six minutes. That has to count for something, right?"

Four's glance flickered between the pair of us, some unknown wheels turning in his mind. After a moment he threw his hands up in the air and exhaled loudly. "Go ahead. But I'm not taking responsibility for any injuries," he grunted.

"She'll be on my team, then," Eric suggested. "I'll even give you first pick for teammates." I still had no real idea what the goal was for today's exercise, not to mention what the teams were for, but my stomach still flipped nervously when he offered.

"Fine. Whatever. Can we please get on track?" Four said dismissively. "The rest of you, stop staring out the doors and listen carefully." No one had been not paying attention before, but people still shifted on their feet to pay closer attention.

"The game is Capture the Flag. The goal, surprise surprise, is to capture the opposing team's flag," Four explained. A pair of radioactively luminescent squares of cloth materialized from his pockets. "Teams will be made up of an equal split of transfers and Dauntless-born to keep everything even."

Eric stepped in at this point, walking over to a grey cargo crate that was strapped down in the train car. "Now to keep this from turning into a series of cage matches, you will all be armed with firearms," he remarked cheerfully. He pulled out an odd looking weapon with a bulbous object attached to the barrel.

"Firearms?" One of the Dauntless-born initiates squeaked fearfully. I had to agree with the sentiment.

With a smirk, Eric turned sharply and squeezed off a shot directly at the kid. She jerked back slightly as a splatter of bright blue ink smeared across her chest. "Paintball guns, to be exact," Eric replied. "We don't want anyone losing a limb before you've even become full members." He was definitely enjoying this.

Four took back over at this point, sounding far less chipper. "Get shot twice and you're temporarily out for ten minutes. Two more times and you're out of the round for good," he explained. "Headshot and you're out as well, so be careful."

They started the team selection process and I tried my hardest not to react to the choices. Will and Christina end up on Four's team, along with Drew, Myra, and a selection of Dauntless-born. I ended up with the glorious experience of being partnered with Peter, Molly, Edward, and Al. Worse, the Dauntless-born weren't any that I knew. Everyone besides me was stocky and strong looking.

I chewed on my lip as Four's group disappeared off of the train and I was left in my own personal hell. Eric gathered everyone around and laid down some additional ground rules. "Right, I don't care what anyone's beef is with anyone. CTF is one of the few Dauntless traditions that you'll get to be a part of and I do not want my team suffering a loss this year," he growled loudly. "You shut up, work together, and get the team a win."

A round of murmurs and nodding heads went around the group. Eric was clearly trying to bond the group through their competitive natures, something that might actually end up working. After another minute in the train, we piled off and started heading in a random direction.

"So what's the plan?" Peter asked loudly.

"Transfers shut up and let the Dauntless-born lead," the girl who had been shot earlier remarked snarkily.

Eric swore quietly and corrected her. "I don't give a damn who it is, but someone out of you twerps has to step up and establish order. Then you decide on a plan and execute it. So simple a Stiff could figure it out," he growled between steps.

I could feel Molly's glare at me after that comment, but I refused to let it bother me. "So we should find an area we can defend easily and then try to go find the other's flag," Molly said quickly. Clearly she thought that she could be that leader for the group.

"Best shots at the base, keeping out any raiding parties," someone else chimed in.

A few more ideas were bandied around, mostly about ideal locations. We were heading to the edge of the marsh that used to be a lake on the edge of the city. Just before we got to the legitimately marshy, wet terrain we stopped. The group had broken up into two parts by then and one half left immediately. They were our raiding party, hell-bent on making it to Four's location before they were ready for us.

Granted, they didn't know quite where that was. I was left with Molly, Drew, and half of the Dauntless-born and Molly had taken over calling the shots. I suggested that we find some high ground to attempt to spot the others' location, but my words went unheeded by our valiant leader.

"Fine, whatever," I growled to myself. I didn't need the rest of the team's support for my idea and damn if I was going to let Molly order me around. She clearly was still harboring some resentment towards me - Eric's speech on teamwork hadn't changed that - and I was sick of her sideways glances.

Shouldering my paintball gun, I set off out of the treeline. I was completely exposed for a good hundred yards - that was the reason we'd picked this spot - and I hustled to make it to the abandoned buildings that marked the edge of the old city. Once I got there, I looked around for the tallest point nearby. Way off in the distance was a ferris wheel, but that was completely impractical.

I spotted an old stone building with what looked like broken stained glass windows. An old church, complete with spiraling towers. Perfect.

I didn't take my finger off the trigger guard of my paintball gun until I'd made it all the way to the church. Once I got there, I tugged on the front door. It didn't budge.

My heart sank. How was I supposed to get in there if the door was locked?

There had to be another way.

I looked around at the other buildings in the street, but they were all one or two story structures. Nothing compared to the twin spirals at the ends of the roof. Something caught my eye in the alleyway near me and my hope was renewed. I settled my paintball gun onto my back and darted into the darkened street. A quick run and jump and I snagged the bottom rung of an old fire escape. With a grunt, I heaved myself up and swung a foot into one of the rungs. After that point, it was just a matter of heading up the rungs and onto the winding stairs to get to the roof of the building it was attached to.

Piece of cake, I thought to myself. Now I just needed to get to the neighboring roof and I would be able to get in through one of the broken windows into the church proper.

I trotted over to the edge of the building and tried very hard not to look down. There was a good three foot span between the building I was standing on and the roof of the one next to the church. "You might want to consider a running start," a low voice murmured directly behind me.

I must have been getting used to being startled by Eric, otherwise I probably would have jumped straight off into the alleyway below. I swallowed heavily and turned my head slowly. "Who says I wasn't?" I replied just as quietly.

He shrugged, the motion making moonlight reflect dully off his weapon. "No one. Just didn't want to scrape another initiate off the pavement," he said simply.

I winced, remembering Allison's tragic fall on my first day in Dauntless. That wasn't something I wanted to emulate. After a beat, I stepped carefully backwards. The roof was fairly clear, so I felt confident as I started running towards the edge. Without a noise, I pushed off the ledge and launched myself at my goal.

The gun on my back slammed into me when I landed, but otherwise it was a perfect jump. Moments later, Eric's dark form landed next to me, catlike and silent. I nodded at him and pointed at the church building directly ahead of us. He gestured for me to lead, which I did immediately.

Trotting slowly, I traversed the gravel-topped roof to the edge by the church. This was when I realized the flaw in my plan. The distance between this roof and the church's was almost double that of the last gap.

"If I might ask, what precisely is your goal?" Eric asked curiously. "Just a midnight rooftop jaunt to test out those ribs?"

"Ha ha," I laughed mockingly. "Hilarious. I was looking for a vantage point to find the other group. Something high enough to spot their movement." I kept scanning the area, looking for any kind of solution to this problem.

Eric bobbed his head, pausing to think. "You mean the carousel over there with all the people standing in a circle trying to make a plan?" he asked after a moment. I followed where he was pointing, feeling my stomach drop to my feet.

Just as he said, there was Four's team. They were far enough away that you had to look carefully, but their spot was on the open boardwalk, completely exposed to viewing from this vantage point. I swallowed hard. "Yeah. That one over there," I whispered dejectedly.

I felt about an inch tall just about then.

"Hey," Eric grunted, stepping closer to where I was standing. "Don't make that face. You think you're going to be the only one who has a clever idea?" He slung his gun onto his shoulder, tilting his head as he looked me over.

I fought to shove away the disappointment and frustration that was washing over my face. I settled for a scowl and called it good. "Nah, but that doesn't mean it won't piss me off when it happens," I retorted.

Sighing, I looked up at his face. The moonlight turned his hair platinum and the deep shadows made his eyes glint even brighter in intensity. I was staring for too long, I knew it, but I couldn't stop.

"You've got to suck it up and keep going," Eric finally replied, lightly punching me in the shoulder. "What do you think this exercise is for? To goof around at four in the morning?"

I took a moment to consider just what he meant. Everything Dauntless did in initiation had a purpose, whether it be to build skills or test bravery. Obviously capture the flag was the same way.

"It's to test adaptability, isn't it?" I slowly reasoned out. "We make teams, plans, and try to get the others' flag, but we have to keep changing the plan every time something new arises."

He nodded tightly. "And teamwork, endurance, and fieldwork," he murmured quietly. "But that's the basic concept."

We were still looking at each other, unmoving on the rooftop. I could count the number of bars in his neck tattoo, we were that close and still.

The sound of shouting and puffs of air from paintball guns broke the spell. I jerked my head in the direction of the noise, twisting my weapon to be at the ready. Eric moved even quicker, darting to the edge of the rooftop, sighting down the barrel of his weapon at the source of the commotion.

I followed behind quickly, moving to crouch down in a sniping position. "They're too far away," Eric breathed, bringing his paintball gun back to his side.

He was right, of course. It looked like our raiding party had collided with theirs, causing the skirmish. I nodded tightly. We had to get there, fast, before our group was eliminated.

I stood back up and examined the area. We could get to where the group was by rooftop, I was almost certain of it. "Follow me," I said quickly, heading in the direction of the fighting. I didn't stop to think or wait to see if Eric would follow. I knew that he would and that we needed to back up our group. That was that. It was pure instinct.

My feet practically flew across the rooftop as I threw myself over to the next adjoining roof. Over and across we moved, scrambling to head to the staccato sound of gunfire. The last hurdle was significantly farther than the others before, but I barely thought about that. I just ran with all my might and launched myself into the open air.

Painfully, I stuck the landing, sharp pain radiating along my shin bones. I bit my tongue instead of crying out in a desperate attempt to stay quiet. Eric slammed onto the roof next to me, closer to the edge than I had been and far less gracefully. I grabbed his shoulder to keep him from falling off, which was easier said than done.

He clasped my arm quickly in thanks before we turned and made off towards the site of the fight. The shouts had calmed down, but there was still quite the battle going on between Uriah, Myra, Al, and Peter. Uriah had the Al and Peter pinned behind a green dumpster, a constant surge of paintballs pelting them any time they tried to make a move. I spotted Myra circling to try and reach them from the other end of the street.

I pointed at myself and then Uriah, meeting Eric's eyes. He nodded and took off to the side, mirroring Myra's motions. Carefully, I approached the side of the roof. There was a slight lip which I rested my gun on, giving me some stability. I didn't want to reveal my position without hitting Uriah, but I had to act fast or it wouldn't matter whether I hit him or not.

Lining up my shot carefully, I took in a slow breath. And exhaled smoothly, squeezing the trigger twice in succession. I heard a similar pair of shots a moment later, followed by Myra shrieking. Uriah grunted in surprise, swiping at the neon blue dye that was staining his hair. "The fuck?" he called out.

"Headshot- you're out of the game, Petrad. No talking," Peter yelled in reply, his head peeking out from behind the dumpster. He looked just as confused as the other boy, but he was taking it better. His eyes tracked up, passing right over where I was crouched.

Al nudged him and pointed at where Myra was sitting, looking dejected. She was shot in the chest twice, out for ten minutes but not forever. He and Peter scrambled to their feet and went over to where their "wounded" were. One of the Dauntless-born was out completely, but two more would be good soon.

Eric jogged back over to where I was and motioned that I should stand up. "Nice shot," he complimented quietly. "Just do that a few more times and the win will be in the bag."

I smirked, feeling vindicated from earlier. "Then shouldn't we keep going, before Myra and her fellows are back in the game?" I asked cheerfully. Eric nodded, his expression matching the same predatory look that I felt on my own face.

We stepped back for another running start and made the leap onto the next rooftop. That caught the attention of the other members of our team, who gave us a silent thumbs up. Everyone was somehow on the same page: ignore the two shadowy figures on the rooftop.

Peter and Al helped move the "injured" teammates along, stopping a few blocks down to regroup once they were back in the game. They made a plan to keep an eye out for the strike team coming up from behind us now while we advanced towards the carousel. I made eye contact with Eric and pointed behind me with my thumb. I'll watch the rear.

He shook his head and pointed at his own chest. I frowned. If anything, he had more experience and would be better off supporting the attack team. But I didn't want to argue with him. He had solid instincts about the game thusfar and he probably had learned from the last two times he'd played.

We got to the farthest point we could get on rooftop, about fifty yards away from the carousel itself. Eric and I had split up, with him taking up position on the last rooftop to watch for back attacks. Our attack squad was coming up in a tight group of four, staying as close to the shadows as possible.

"I see something!" I heard Christina call out frantically. "Eric's group is here!"

Some neon green paintballs came flying out from behind one of the seats of the ride. They splattered harmlessly on the ground near where the strike team was, not hitting anyone that I could see. I lined up my gun with where the projectiles had come from, waiting for my moment.

That's when the strike team split up completely, becoming four separate figures that rushed at the carousel from totally different directions. Puffs of compressed air filled the air as the two teams tried to pelt each other with ink. This was my time.

I squeezed the trigger quickly, aiming for the dark figure who was slowly peeking out of the chair as they focused solely on their running target. Four shots off and I'd definitely hit them enough to take them out of the next ten minutes.

I quickly redirected my attention to the next person I could see in the carousel. They were set farther back, but they'd picked one of the horses as their shield. From my vantage point I could definitely see most of their chest and all of their face. Two shots off and I hit them at both points. Out completely, thanks to the ink running down from their ear. Marlene swore loudly before dropping her weapon in frustration.

That was two down from me alone, combined with the force of our attack team. I looked for any remaining green paintballs flying and was satisfied to see there weren't any more. Al was down, as were the two Dauntless-born from earlier, but Peter was carefully approaching the carousel.

I stood up to check that we had in fact eliminated the entire threat and that's when I saw him. Four was crouching just below where I was sitting, his weapon trained on Peter's exposed back. The idiot was walking right into a trap. I had a split second decision to make: I could either call out to him and that would let him dodge fast enough, or I could try to take Four out on my own.

The latter played more into my current desires. And I didn't really mind if Peter took a paintball to the back of his skull.

I took a few steps to the side and jumped from the ledge, firing at Four as I fell. I heard Eric bellow my name - the loudest he'd spoken since the train, part of me noticed - and both Peter and Four turned their heads to look at the sound.

Four's shot stayed true unfortunately, but so did mine. Three spatters of blue paint clustered on Four's chest, just over where his heart would be just as my feet slammed into a decaying tarp that was strung as a makeshift awning. The collision made me cringe, but I'd already seen the fruits of my labor.

I was tangled up in the blue-black piece of cloth, but I had more or less made the drop safely. My mind still on the prize, I rolled out of the tarp onto the worn wooden planks of the boardwalk. Peter was face-down on the ground, his hands clasped around the back of his neck. Incoherent swears were coming from his direction.

We still hadn't won yet, though, and I made a beeline for the carousel. I still had my gun tight in my grips, ready for another surprise hidden enemy. But there weren't any more as I stepped onto the metal platform, dancing between horses and fantastical beasts to reach the glowing square that was hanging from one of the support beams.

I tugged down the green fabric and let out a whoop. "Suck it! We beat you so freaking good!" I yelled, dancing back into the open area. Four's teammates were completely disgusted, wiping off their blue wounds tiredly. Christina tumbled out from the chair I had shot at, her front a smear of paint.

I was riding a high that I never wanted to come down from.

Peter, Al, and our other teammates were in far better spirits than the other team, rushing over to see the flag that we'd claimed. I passed it over to them, my attention focused on the dark form of Eric climbing down from the rooftop. He stormed over to where we were clustered. "Do you. Have. A death wish?" Eric growled in his low, intimidating voice. But the menace wasn't there, reduced by the concern that was in his eyes.

I stepped over to him, meeting him head-on. It was definitely the endorphins that were keeping me from quaking in my boots. "No sir, I don't. There was something to break my fall and someone needed to stop Four," I retorted, gesturing to the other team leader who was emerging from the shadows to reassure his team.

Eric's ground his teeth together and I swear that I could hear them. "I swear to God, you'll be the freaking death of me," he hissed between clenched teeth.

I swallowed hard before smiling slightly. "But we won. They didn't know what was coming for them," I insisted as cheerfully as I could, emphasizing the we. The green flag made its way back to my hands and I passed it to Eric.

That made his expression soften, especially when Four shoved past him to reach the rest of his teammates. "Next time, try to win without killing your team leader in the process," Eric grumbled.

Smirking, I nodded. "No dropping from rooftops. Got it," I teased.

With that, we began the long process of gathering the rest of the initiates, including Myra and the few others from Four's team who had gotten lost trying to find our base's location. By the time we jumped into the train cars, the sun was rising over the wall. I turned and leaned against the doorway to watch it finish rising as we returned to Dauntless.

What a morning.