Riley stays. I have mixed feelings about that.

"Joe." Lauren says. The lousy shooter rises from his seat and I watch as he shakes like a leaf all the way to the door. Me, Riley and Jace are the only ones left in the room. I'm not sure if someone is hinting at me to take out a few pages of 'how to be a romantic' from their book. Jace hugs the mousy girl close, whispering soothing words to her and how she'll do just fine.

"I'm surprised how calm you are." Jace says.

I look up from my kicking feet to meet his gaze. Both of them are pale and somewhat shivering. "I just act like I am." I reply simply. "Some say ignorance is bliss."

I am afraid. Four told us that we will be facing our fears in stage two. Even now, I can already name a few. My stomach churns heavily in me, clenching and twisting in ways that make me nauseous. My gaze goes back to my black-covered feet. They kick wildly in the air, like a bored child waiting for his mom to come pick him up from school. Four says that a person ranges between twelve to fourteen fears. I'm not sure I can through going each one of them unscathed.

The door creaks open. "Anna." A sudden chill shoots up my spine. Four stands leaning against the sill as he waits. It takes effort to plant my feet firmly on the ground. I stand and stretch, the muscles on my back protesting for being forced in an odd position for the past three hours. I focus on the aches as I move towards the room, forcing down the trepidation that's threatening to overwhelm me. Four steps aside and closes the door after I pass the threshold. I don't think I could've done that myself.

The room is small and anticlimactic. I expected something scarier, but that probably lies in the simulation. I'm about to take a seat in the chair that reminds me of my amplitude test when a new wave of fear courses through me. "Are there cameras here? Or any way another can hear us?" My words are jumbled and forced, much like vomit. I clench my hands to stop them from shaking.

"No." Four sits on the chair in front of the computer and rolls towards me. He staring at me deep in thought and waiting, observing me like a vet would do to an animal.

I take a deep breath and grab the arms of the simulation chair, slowly lowering myself down with shaky arms. Four places his elbows on his knees and leans forward. This gesture oddly comforts me, it's an 'I'm here for you.' I breathe in deeply a few more times, doing my best to calm my nerves. Here goes nothing. "Look I have to tell you something." I start. My voice is slightly stronger this time, driven by the will to survive and find help. "I'm-"

"Divergent." We say at the same time. My eyes snap to his in shock. How did he figure it out? Shock fades to panic in a heartbeat. My breathing rate picks up. Is my divergence that obvious? Where di- "I guessed it on the night where we met on the roof." The words make me freeze. His posture remains relaxed and unchanging. "The way you trained your dogs and deal with fights indicate that you are part Erudite." It takes an Erudite to train the dogs like that? "You mentioned that your parents are ambassadors, so the chances of them being previous transfers are pretty high. That kind of strengthened my suspicions about what you are."

"Is it obvious?" My voice is tight. Dread fills me as I think about how I've messed up already.

"Only if you're looking." I suck in a breath. Shit. "Don't worry about Eric. He's too busy admiring you and tracking the divergents in other factions to take notice of you." Four adds. I slump into my seat in relief. "Does he know about the dogs?" I shake my head. "Good. He'll be on the lookout during stage two, since the signs are most obvious now. Divergents are aware when they are in simulations, which gives them the ability to manipulate them. So as long as you don't do anything outside the laws of 'nature', you'll be fine." I nod my head and take a deep breath. His advice seems easy. Four rolls away to pick up a syringe from a tray. "The way a simulation ends is when you calm yourself down." Sounds like an easy task when you know it isn't real. "But for you, I would advise against that. Quick times are another indication of divergence, though not as definite, it will still raise suspicion."

"Why are you helping me?" I blurt out suddenly. As much as Four is my friend, it doesn't mean enough for him to risk himself as well.

He pauses; the syringe in his hand inches away from my neck. "Because you're the only person who I've met that believes in what I believe in." What?"Dauntless used to be much different many years ago. Now it's just a pathetic shell of what it used to be." Right…

Philosophical Four creeps me out. I'm not sure if I like him this profound. I assume he's referring to the night I quoted the Dauntless manifesto. I suppose I do believe in the manifesto. He has a point in Dauntless no longer living up to what it stands for, especially with the new leadership. I'm not longer given time to process his words when a sharp twinge occurs at my neck. I wince. Thanks for the heads-up buddy.

"Be brave." Is all I hear as darkness overtakes me.

I'm standing in my bedroom back in Amity. Everything is exactly where I left it. I look around confusingly, having no recollection of how I got here. My mind rakes for answers but only reaches a dead end. Growing frustrated, I decide to look around my room instead. My feet carry me to my desk, the pictures exactly where I had stuck them months ago. I pluck out a small photo of the puppies. The three canines are tangled in a mess, teeth biting each other's ears as they play. But that's not what catches my eye. It's holes. Specifically, ones on my hand.

Lots of them.

My throat rips out into an ear-piercing scream, one that hasn't been made since I fell from the tree. I drop the image and shake out my hands like tiny circles aren't etched on my skin. They don't come off. The screaming doesn't stop as my feet stumble to the bed, body colliding onto the mattress.

Logical thinking and reasoning kicks in. Maybe it was just a hallucination. I force myself to look at my hands again, the glimpse of hope immediately crushing. Definitely not.

Pure terror courses through me in waves as the vivid image continues to stay when I shut my eyes. I make a mistake of clenching my hands together. I feelthem. The indents and bumps indicating the missing pieces of flesh. I want to grab my hair, but I squeeze my arms to my sides. My body shakes as I continue to lie on the bed, too fearful to look or move. I lay stiff as a board while the minutes ticks by, my throat now sore from screaming too much. My teeth are clenched together grinding uncomfortably, but still not enough to distract me.

Think. I yell in my head. Think. With my brain somewhat churning, the fact that I'm in my old room returns. My family should be here somewhere. Taking a deep breath, I yell coherently this time. "Mom!" Time ticks by, yet there is no familiar sound of footsteps. "Mom!" I try again, slightly more frantic. "Mom I'm sick!" She would always come running when I say that.

Then like a bucket of ice water being dump on me, I realized that were she here, she would've come the moment I started screaming. "Crap!" I curse. My hand smacks over my eyes, feeling utterly hopeless. Then I remember the condition of my palms. Shrieking, I tear my hand from my face and snap it to the side.

Be brave. Four's voice is like a wisp of wind; fleeting that I almost missed it. Be brave; be brave; be brave. With shaky hands, I muster the strength to look at them. Hundreds of dark open holes dot my hands, too deep to appear like craters. My head starts spinning and my stomach churns violently. Screw Four. I only manage to bend over to the edge of the bed before mushed apple and liquid exits my mouth. I grab the wooden frame before letting go immediately, the way surface isn't smooth makes me retch some more. I'm reminded of my fight of Cole as my stomach empties itself over and over again. I hate the feeling.

Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I crawl away and force myself to stand. A trip to the bathroom will help pull my shit together. I don't make a step forward before I'm screaming again. This time, it's my feet. Black holes stare back at me, depthless and uncountable. My heart pounds against my chest painfully as I scramble back onto the bed. Snatching a pillow, I muffle my screams with it, uncaring that I'm getting puke all over it. The images of my palms and feet cloud my mind, causing gooseflesh to run up the entire length of my body. I feel the acid in my stomach burning me, causing a new wave of nausea. I start slamming my head into the pillow over and over, trying to rid of the disgusting images of my mind. I don't relent, neither do they. Tears are already soaking the pillow by the time I stop the assault on the pillow. Completely, utterly, hopeless.

I want my dogs. They would force me feel better - curl up by my side and lick the tears away until I laugh.

I want my dogs. They would find help - whether it is through calling mum or bringing over their toys.

And they aren't here. But they should be. A new emotion rips through me, slicing through all the fear and disgust: Anger.

I jolt upright from the vinyl seat, lifting up my hands to check for any holes. Nothing. I clench them together and twist frantically to see if my eyes are playing tricks. They had felt real moments ago. They were real moments ago.

"It was just a sim." My heart skips a beat at the sound. Four.

My hand flies over my erratic heart as I slump back in my seat. Reality and logic tries to reason with me, but they fail. "They were real, and I still feel them." My lip trembles as I whisper the words. The holes – hundreds black, soulless eyes – engrained in the back of my mind. I hug my knees to my chest and hide my face between them. "They were real." I repeat shakily, tightening my arms.

"Anna."

I don't reply.

"Anna, you're fine. Your hands are fine, your feet are fine." My head whips out of my pod. Did he watch everything? Four is still in the roller seat, but this time he's next to the computer. His lips are pursed on one side – pitiful. Humiliation hits like lightning, capricious as they come. Blood rushes to my face as the thought of him watching me vomit and scream dances in my head. I cover my face with my hands and groan, internally dying from embarrassment. His words seemed to have done their trick, since all fear and panic has been replaced with mortification. The sound of my heartbeat starts subsides and so does my breathing rate. I'm not sure to thank him or strangle him.

I do neither, since my brain is back up and running. "How long?" I ask; trepidation gnaws at me.

"Honestly I'm shocked. I would have thought you've been faster; divergent and all." Am I not divergent enough now? "Fifteen minutes, forty-eight seconds; just a tad bit faster than the twenty-minute average."

"Well I'll have to thank you for that." I grumble.

His face brightens considerably. "Why, you're-"

"Your 'be brave' speech made me puke my guts out." I interrupt flatly. A blessing in disguise, I suppose.

Four deflates like a balloon. "I'll keep that in mind next time." He replies sourly, face twisted to a scowl.

I can't help but chuckle at his dramatic shift of mood. "But really, thank you, for everything." Four rolls his eyes; but eventually, the corners of his mouth lifts.

"Yours?"

There's a brief pause. "Snakes." Riley mumbles. My head jerks slightly on surprise. Snakes are typically found in Amity, I can't imagine why she would be afraid of something she hasn't encountered. Just like your hands? A voice counters back. Peering back at my smooth palms, a shudder rushes through me like a cold wind. I don't want to ever go through that again.

"There are snakes in Candor?" Skylar cocks her head to the side, predictably baffled.

Riley's cheeks twinge pink. "I heard some Amity talking about it over lunch in school last year. They were describing how it almost bit them if their dog didn't step in."

And that would be... me.I was adrenaline-drunk that day, suddenly finding the urge to blurt out my encounter with people I've never cared to greet. The girls around me were gasping in horror as I describe how the snake didn't slither away and rose a foot off the ground. I left out the fact that snakes don't normally attack people, unless as an act of self-defense. It was nice to see something other than sick glee wash across their faces. "It didn't help that the science class I had after that was on these reptiles." I want to laugh, but I surprisingly managed to swallow it down.

The sudden hush that cascades through the hall alerts me of the leader's entrance, causing my heart to speed up and create spasms that courses through my body. The excitement of seeing him makes my eyes brighten. But that quickly diminishes; Eric climbs down the steps, face twisted into a scowl. My brows snitch together as I access his mood; confusion sweeps over me like a wave. The young leader had been showing signs of improvement since Capture-the-flag, minus being more tired than usual. According to the grief cycle, I'm unsure where he lies in bargaining, depression and acceptance. My bet should be on depression, but Eric doesn't seem like one to let go easily.

I sigh; I shouldn't be paying unnecessary attention to the man tasked to kill divergents. It would be a disgrace if mother's advice to fell on deaf ears.

Inhaling slowly, I picture myself shutting all thoughts of the young leader into a box and locking it. The key is thrown into the lakes in Amity, where muck and water will bury it deep; never to be found again.

It's the shrill call of my name that pulls me from my imagination. Riley speaks with her mouth full of food; it disgusts me.

My eye twitches. "Pardon?" I ask almost tensely, but still politely; Johanna would be proud.

Riley chews with her mouth open; I'm officially grossed out. It's a wonder how I didn't notice such a despicable habit when I first met her. My will to shut her up then must have overcame all other senses. "What's your fear?"

I blink. The question shouldn't surprise me, since that's all we've been talking about since lunch started. But it does, and I'm not sure why. "Disease." My reply is vague and hopefully boring enough for the Candor to move on. Unlike shaken-up me, Riley is a wreck; her hair is sticking up in various places from where she tugged at the roots; her usual bright hazel eyes are now dull and swollen. Were the snakes that bad? Giving her another cursory glance, it dawns on me that I'm not sure how I look. My hand immediately reaches behind and tug the hair tie loose. "Best not know, lest you start fearing them too." I didn't mean to say anything more, but the awkward silence was unsettling.

By the third wave of boredom and dread that sprouted from listening to the initiates describe their fears, I give into my desires and scan the hall for my eye-candy. Killer or not, a hot guy deserves the attention he earns.

It takes me longer than usual, mainly because there's actually someone sitting across Eric. A man with silver hair talks animatedly to the slightly more relaxed but still scowling leader. From the back, the man's hair is shaved at the sides as well. But unlike Eric, his mid-portion is long, hanging off his forehead slightly. Silver's build is just a tad bit leaner than Eric, who's packed with drool-worthy muscle. My mind wonders briefly on how these men met since from afar, they already seem like polar opposites.

I stay rooted on my seat, curiosity and theories of the history between the men overlapping each other. It's the first time I'm seeing Eric interact with someone outside of training; more often than not, he spends his meals alone in the hall or not at all. I chide myself for assuming that the leader had no friends. Eric is no abandoned puppy with no one to turn to; he's a fully functioning person who does normal things too.

My staring feat ends when the silver man rises from his seat. His features are sharp and undeniably handsome in their own way. The beard he wears is a five-o' clock shadow – meticulously trimmed and shaved to make his cheekbones pop. Eyebrows are thick and angular, creating a mysterious and sexy vibe that could sway me if I didn't already have my eyes set on someone else. Green eyes snap to mine the moment it leaves the grumpy leader, an indication that he knows who I am.

Huh. As if grown accustomed to stares, my face locks and my head cocks to the side; an unintentional challenge. Silver merely grins at me before turning back to the leader, talking with his lips pulled to his ears. The sitting man merely shrugs a shoulder, feigning indifference; at least, I would like to think he is.

I don't sleep much that night, even despite being by the wall. Muffle sobs and heavy breathing prevents sleep from overtaking me. I pray that it will only get better from here. How foolish I was.

A/N

I think I'm having writer's block .-. I'm way behind in writing because I'm not sure how Anna and Eric should react :D And I am unable to think about it in my free time cause the internship saps the energy out of me. If this keeps up, I think I'll only be able to update every few days cause that's how long its taking me to write a single chapter (Last time used to be 1.5 per day .-.)