With the bright blinding lights of the landscape theater making a return, I should feel elated that initiation is finally over.

As much as it would be theoretically nice to jump for joy and celebrate with the approaching leaders, it feels as if I haven't left the simulation at all – though the logical part will beg to differ.

Max comes to a stop a few feet away from me, his smile much wider than when he had congratulated the rest. A nagging voice tells me that his happiness is more likely towards not having to watch and evaluate any more simulations for a year than my completion. "Congratulations Anna." He starts; but I'm unable to relate to his delight. "You've successfully completed your final evaluation."

I do my best to smile back, especially since I have four of the most powerful pair of eyes on me. My attempt is futile. All I feel is numbness, dread, and exhaustion.

This time it's Eric who speaks up, ever emotionless and controlled. "The welcoming banquet will be at seven. We will announce the results then."

His deep baritone voice should've stirred something inside me, knock me out of my pessimistic daze that he doesn't know he's capable of. Instead, all I replay wryly over and over my head is 'welcoming banquet'.

Welcoming banquet. The words taste sour in my mind. This was what I wanted right? The first step to helping the faction system? This is what I relentlessly trained for these two years – to seal a place in Dauntless.

Yet in some absurd and remarkable way, I loathe it.

Max's eyes flicker to the young leader for a split second in subdued surprise. This is the first time Eric has spoken words other than the mandatory 'congratulations' like the rest of the leaders. I know of this because I've unwittingly adopted the habit of watching him whenever possible.

Eric pretends not to notice, maintaining his stiff rigid posture and forcing Max to start the round of handshakes among the leaders. The corner of my lips twitch limply as Max's hand is replaced by Kyle, and then Veronica. I've never quite grasp on the point of faking genuineness towards people I don't particularly care about. Therefore, looking at the two leaders I've never spoken to, I don't see the point of their appearance to this event – other than to serve as a reminder on who holds the authority around here.

Then it happens before I can process it. My hand flinches away from Eric's outstretched one. It was a brief moment of vulnerability – one that I doubt many would notice – but nothing escapes Eric's keen eyes when it comes to me.

The need to run away replaces self-pity and sorrow.

I force myself to blurt out anything before he does. "Thank you. The fear simulations got into my head." I force out a strangled chuckle. The simulation wasn't what got to me, not really. "I think I'm going to take some time to cool off."

If there's one thing I know Eric won't do, it would be breaking his mask in front of everyone. So, I turn away from them – him, making a beeline for the exit to place as much distance between us as I can.

I'm well aware of my pathetic attempt to scamper away and the horrible first impression I'm giving towards people I may have to work with in the future. But at this point in time, I can't seem to find a speck in me to care.

Four attempts to speak when he sees my urgent fleeing, face alarmed as his eyes flicker between the oblivious leaders and to me. "Anna wh-"

The door slams shut in his face.

Pain.

Pain consumes everything.

My fists are pounding the sandbag in front of me, the rocking from the impact unable to quench all I'm feeling. Fresh hot tears stream down my face as anguish and shame washes through me. My nose is blocked with snot and my breathing labored. Still, I can't find any will in me to wipe it away.

I deserve this. I deserve worst. Then screaming starts, pure streams of misery rips through my throat. My failure to my family and what I stood for crumbles to the ground from the choices I've made. There is a cold hand around my heart, squeezing maliciously in its hunger to feed on my despair.

I shouldn't have let go of John's hand, heavens know what that had meant. It was not worth it. Never would I have thought denying all I've stood for would've hurt so much, especially when I did it to survive. Screw what the leaders thought of my loyalty, I rather this than lose a part of myself.

"Anna."

My head whips up to the voice. And it was not worth him.

Just like that, I'm on to the source of conflict.

Eric eyes only manage to widen a fraction before he ducks where a fist would've landed on his face. I do not see the man who cares for me, only the man who's shaken my foundations.

Rage.

Pure rage.

It starts coursing through my veins as I begin sequence upon sequence of techniques mother has thought me.

Rib, rib, nose, eye, chest.

Temple, jaw, nose, nose, chest.

I rage upon how I did nothing during the fights, watching from the sidelines as initiates get beaten to a bloody pulp. I could've stop this. I have the ability to stop this. Why oh why did I think that just playing my part in not hurting others was enough? How selfish I was to find contentment in my actions so I could pretend that everything else was fine.

I rage upon my irrational feelings towards the merciless leader, how they have thwarted my goal and purpose. I should've ignored him, stick to my initial plan of avoiding him that I made on the night before the choosing ceremony. I should've let him wallow in the loss of the girl, never should've comforted him on the train. I should've fought more on the day he wanted to bring me to Amity, make it clear that I wanted nothing to do with him. I shouldn't have let him get me out of the bar the first time, then I wouldn't have met that repulsive friend of his. Axel had no right to stick his head into our own business.

My vision is still clouded with tears but I continue my sequences against the blurred figure, finding my movements the only thing that seems to be in order.

It does not matter to me whether or not my assaults make contact. My actions are clumsy and too disorientated with my emotions. My sequences remind me that not everything my parents have done has gone to waste, that at least they can be proud of me with this. I love them with all my heart, and it breaks me that my one chance to show them slipped away knowingly through my fingertips.

The moment I falter a step, wind brushes past me and I'm caged.

I'm transported back to the time where Eric had cornered me to the wall on the day he brought me to Amity. My arms are yanked to my side and clamped in place with a band of muscle and strength, rendering them useless. Instinct tells me to twist and bend over, throw my attacker off me, gain the upper hand. I want to do just that. Maybe even jerk my head backwards in hopes to break his nose as my skull makes contact.

But then there's soothing words in my ears. Calm nothings slowly but surely making its way into my lunacy. Soft hushes and murmurs are like a hand coming to smooth rumpled sheets, ever patient and gentle. My anger starts to simmer down as a new wave of emotion consumes me – exhaustion.

I'm exhausted of everything; of the never-ending internal conflict I'm having, of the lack of guidance on what to do, of having to constantly fight.

I just want to sleep. I just want to sleep and go back to where things were simpler. I just want to pretend that all of this is just some sick perpetual dream.

I just want my dogs beside me, always giving me the strength I need to carry through the day. I want their unconditional love and devotion, their unwavering loyalty.

I'm lost and alone, staring at the face of the world with no idea of who I am or what to do.

The dull ache of overexertion from my arms is an annoying thrum now that my mind has cleared. I sag against the man holding me, all spark and fury gone.

The numbness from earlier is returning, drying my tears and clearing my head from all thoughts.

Eric's arms loosen but don't fall away. He gently holds me against him, the breathing on my back slow and measured like he's controlling it for me. We lapse into a period of silence, my mind for once empty as I stare unseeingly at the bleak concrete wall in front of me.

The air around us isn't awkward – comforting, in fact – but I get the overwhelming need to say something. Apologize, preferably, now that the weight of my actions has made itself known. "I'm sorry." Eric never fought back, his only advancement meant to restrain and calm me. It was not right for me to take out my anger on him when it's me I'm disappointed at.

The word 'undeserving' floats around my head, a painful reminder that I'm unworthy of him. I do my best to push down the thoughts and swallow thickly.

His arms tighten around my waist for a fraction of a second before loosening. "It's alright."

No, it's not. I don't know what Eric sees in me. I am an unstable girl who rotates between panic attacks and meltdowns, surely I must be a burden and extremely emotionally draining to deal with.

My thoughts are cut short when he says something foreign to my ears. "Do you want to talk about it?"

This is the first time I'm hearing this question in a while – an invite to express my feelings. "I-I.."

More often than not, I keep my thoughts and worries to myself, being a social outcast and all. The only time I express my feelings is when my mom is home, then I would blurt out everything while she gives me her undivided attention.

It is weird, to have someone – other than mother – requesting to know how you're feeling inside. Even with Four, our topic of conversation revolves around Dauntless, my confusing relationship with Eric and theories on what Jeanine might be up to.

And this is Eric asking. The heartless leader who isn't heartless to me. Every day I spend with him makes me difficult to remember who he is, what he's done.

Just like now.

My hands move to his arms, trailing along his forearm idly. Even if I did want to talk about it, how do I explain anything to him without giving away my intentions? Standing in his embrace now, it pains me to keep things away from him. I don't like lying to him, and omitting details falls in the list too.

"No… not really." I say pathetically, the words forced and odd. I want to crawl under a rock and hide.

The man behind me only tightens his hold, like he's afraid I'll run. "But it was me who caused this."

Yes.

No.

Yes.

I picked Eric in the fear landscape out of necessity, knowing that the leaders interpret this fear as a test of faction loyalty. But I would only be fooling myself to believe I would've chosen differently if there was no one watching.

Now standing in the aftermath of my choices, I can't help the sprout of doubt that tells me that perhaps I've chosen the wrong path.

"Talk to me… please Anna." His voice sends shivers down my spine and I realize that I don't like it when he pleads. It's a tone is full of dread; prepared for the worst.

"I don't know how," and I don't want to. How do I tell him my doubts when I was the one who suggested we try? How do I tell him that I regret the choices I've made without hurting him? How do I tell him that I'm probably better off without him?

He sucks in a breath, forcing out words tensely. "That man… he wasn't your cousin, is he?"

A spark of confusion ignites in my head. Is this what Eric thought? Choosing between two people I have romantic feelings with? Then it dawns on me that Eric only saw the physical dilemma, not the mental one. "He is. John is my father's nephew. My relationship with him is strictly platonic." I reassure.

Though he doesn't voice it, his moment of pause tells me that he's still doubtful. "Then?" He inquires.

"It's what both of you represented." My attention goes to my fingers tracing his maze tattoo, finding comfort in his warmth and presence in such an uncomfortable conversation.

"And what did we represent?" Despite daring to ask the question, I have a sinking feeling that Eric dreads the answer.

"I can't say." I need air to breathe, to think and to let everything simmer down. I need to pick myself up and tell myself everything will be alright; that I'm still the same person as before. "I have to go."

Immediately, the band around me tightens. "No," Eric growls. "You're not leaving."

It takes me a moment to decipher the meaning behind his words. "I just need space."

"No." He repeats. "I'm right here for you. I'm always right here for you. Talk to me. I need to understand." He's pleading again, an underlying hint of desperation in his words.

I close my eyes briefly, feeling his words going straight into my soul. I know that if he keeps up with this, all my cards will be laid bare.

"I know, but-"

He cuts me off, twisting me around to face him. "No, can't you see? I can't. I hate this. I don't want this." His hands squeeze my shoulder to make a point. My guard files back up as my body tenses. "You're hurting. And I… don't want to see you hurt. I don't know what causing this, but I do know it has something to do with me. I can't stand another breakdown knowing that I can't do anything to help you fix it."

I can't meet his eyes, so I keep my gaze to our feet. "Please Anna. I want to help you. I want to be there for you. Just let me in." His warm hands go to my face, thumbs slowly lifting my chin till I'm looking right back at him. "Please."

Everything he's feeling is palpable. The worry, the confusion, the anguish, the sadness. He's afraid. He's afraid for me.

I could collapse into him right then and there. I'm not sure how, but I know that he'll make everything go away.

Then the words 'underserving' creeps back and I can't stand to look at him anymore. "I know. But this is something I need to figure out on my own. I'm sorry." I really am.

"Anna-" He cuts himself short, taking a deep breath before sighing.

"Okay." He finally releases his grip on me since he had me caged. "Okay." He steps away, the warmth that came with him disappearing into thin air. "I'll give you space."

My eyes snap back to his, utterly shocked. Eric just gave in. "Just…" He rubs a hand over his face wearily. "I just want what's best for you."

I smile and grab his hand, knowing full well how difficult it was for him to let it go. I try not to think about how he doesn't wrap his hand around mine, only letting it hang limply. "Thank you," I say sincerely.

Life reenters him for a fleeting moment. "Promise me you won't overthink it? Take it one step at a time?"

I squeeze his hand and pull away. "I promise."

Just like that, I left possibly the only person in Dauntless that truly cares for me alone in the room.

"I'm sorry I slammed the door in your face."

The man beside me doesn't react, his eyes still trained on the endless cascade of water. "Initiates are usually shaken up after facing all their fears, it's alright." He attempts to make it sound flippant as possible. Well, as flippant as a man like Four could. "I take that you're better now?" He asks, successfully pushing my uncalled actions behind us.

I shrug. "Somewhat." As much as Eric claims to be unable to help me without knowing the problem, his advice is spot on each time. So much so that I wonder if there's a sprite that's been whispering to him the right things to say. "What do you want to talk about?"

His head snaps to me in bewilderment, head tilted and frowning. I blink at him weirdly until realization crosses his face that it was indeed him who requested a meet-up. "Ah right." Four turns back to the chasm, the gears working in his head practically visible.

After a long period of me twiddling my fingers, Four speaks up. "Jeanine was here today."

"And two lackeys too." I grumble childishly, irritation already sparking at the image of the wobbly-walking, attention-seeking, useless woman. Eric is mine, not hers. Whether I deserve him is beside the point.

Four quirks an eyebrow but doesn't pry. I squash back my juvenile feelings back into a box and will myself to get back on track. "She came to watch Cole?"

Four shakes his head. "Jeanine comes every year on initiation day. I believe she likes inspecting the armory and picking out promising candidates."

My brows furrow. "But she doesn't actually see our fear landscapes…?" Jeanine wasn't in the observation room during the final tests, she was located at the sidelines.

Four shoots me a look.

Right.

"Yeah, she can't." He says in spite of himself. "Both her 'lackeys'," the word comes out oddly off his tongue, "seem to have a relation with the two men."

The spark of anger returns in me. "Yeah, well, only one of them seems successful. What about it?" I'm not quite sure why Four would call for a meet-up to discuss the two parasites. So what if Jeanine is using other means to anchor their loyalty?

Four shrugs. "Just thought you should know."

I scrutinize him and inquire. "And that's all to it? Anything else?"

His eyes brighten up when a member passes by. "Actually yes. Perhaps we could celebrate your accomplishment tomorrow with a train ride? The city lights are pretty breathtaking." I do a double-take. Four isn't one to celebrate another's accomplishment, I know this much.

He's acting weird; eyes bright and everything. "Time?" There's already half the mind to pass up the offer.

"Eight."

I'm not quite sure what to say, ultimately confused by his actions. "Okay I guess…?"

Four body jolts to life as he pats me on the shoulder. "That's great!" I cringe. "I'll see you around-"

A shrill ring cuts off Four and he digs into his pocket, his features returning to the reserved and solidified state I'm used to. "Hello?"

I contemplate making a dash for it, weirded out by Four's sudden change in attitude towards me. I'm not quite sure if he's actually being serious about going for a train ride with me. Alone. It was as if he was possessed for a moment.

"Beg pardon?... Who?... Ah…" His face falls. "I'll go check it out." He ends the call on the phone I've never seen him carry around. How oblivious am I with my surroundings?

Four twists back to face me. "I'll see you tomorrow. Need to go check on the initiate's training room, one of the punching bags just broke." I should ask him whether he would be during the welcoming banquet tonight, but the accusing look he's shooting me indicates that I had something to do with the bag's condition.

I don't recall breaking the bag I was using.

My gaze is fixed on the rippling amber liquid in front of me.

No. I will not drink.

Ridley giggles loudly next to me, finding the slur of Jace's words the funniest thing in the world. His arm is around her shoulder, both of them doing their best to cuddle on a wooden bench tipsy.

The only reason why I'm here – other than because it's our welcoming banquet – is because I feel guilty for ignoring my acquittances these past few days, only choosing to eat out of their normal meal times. Skylar did come up to me and ask if I was alright on the second day of absence, however I reassured her that everything was fine.

Sitting here now, I can't help but start to regret my choice of sitting with them again.

"I'm not sure what he sees in her." Skylar snarls quietly beside me, sending daggers to the couple as they continue to laugh and giggle like kids with a microphone.

My mouth drops open and I turn to her. Now that I'm thinking about it, I realize that Skylar doesn't generally include Riley into her conversations with the two boys. A warm feeling of arrogance and pleasure runs through me knowing that Skylar prefers me over her; perhaps we have something in common after all.

Sensing that she's waiting for a reply, I tilt my head and lift a shoulder. "Doesn't really matter. As long as she keeps him happy."

Skylar visibly shudders and shakes her arms. "Bleh. I guess that's true."

I chuckle and stab a piece of steak. She acts as if she isn't in a relationship herself.

A scratchy loudspeaker pierces through the din. "Dauntless!"

I've still yet to get over how everyone quietens down so quick.

Max removes the loudspeaker from his mouth, satisfied now that he has everyone's attention. He's back on the tall mezzanine, just like on my first dinner here. Eric stands steely beside him, all evidence of his presumed outburst and vulnerability earlier gone. Had I not seen the different side of him, I would feel intimidated.

He surveys the crowd, eyes flitting over everyone. When it lands on me, he does a double-take like he had to be sure. His gaze doesn't move away after that. My hand unconsciously moves to cover my mouth, suddenly feeling embarrassed of chewing my food.

"After a grueling month of being physically and mentally pushed to the limits, fifteen people have proven their strength and have earned their place here in Dauntless." Cue deafening hoots and cheers from everyone around me. "We are the warrior faction, and we take pride in keeping our city safe both inside and outside. And now, this faction belongs to you."

Max's clears his throat and changes his tone to something akin to an old farmer. "Before we reveal the rankings and celebrate, I would like to inform all new members that job and apartment allocation will be done tomorrow at 10am." Then he clears his throat again.

My stomach is in knots. The rankings are about to be revealed and for once I'm nervous of the outcome. My fear landscape sure felt like it was way more than five minutes. And even though they say time ticks slower when in fear, my confidence in beating Cole has not improved one bit.

"The rankings will be flashed behind me." My staccato heartbeat is in my ears and my hands are starting to get clammy. What if Cole actually beats me? My fork clatters noisily onto the metal tray when I realize I'm clenching it too hard.

I must calm down. It will do me no good to have a panic attack over something that may or may not be true. Deep breaths, deep breaths, everything will be alright.

Eric. Eric would calm me. I jerk my head from my food, searching to find the man. But just like earlier, he hasn't moved or changed his posture. Panic starts rising in me again. I need Eric here with me, not the emotionless Dauntless leader on the overlook. I can't-

Everything is happening too soon.

"Now, for the moment we've all been waiting for… the rankings!"

A few things happen in the span of three short seconds. My eyes close. The fear of failing forcing me to remain in the unknown. Every single noise in the dining hall ceases, like we're all in a movie that has been paused. Then there's cheering drowning out gasps, a spark in the far corner and spreading like wildfire.

There's loud squealing in my ear, something I'm not quite familiar with in such a deafening level. It's Skylar's. A hand roughly grabs my shoulder and starts shaking me like a rag doll. "OH MY GOSH Anna!" She squeals. I wince.

At least some of us are satisfied.

The cheering only seems to be getting louder now. "You-" Her voice is muted by a squeak from me. I'm pulled out from the bench and the platform where my ass sat is replaced by air and hands. My eyes fly open in horror as the action of being carried in the air registers. The idea of being carried around over people's heads and having their hands touching my body does not settle well. Please put me down.

Skylar is lifted up beside me. Unlike me who's probably scowling, she's giggling and hooting; the perfect Dauntless reaction. "Look, look!" She continues to squeal, pointing towards the general direction of the leaderboard.

I suppose that sooner or later I'll have to face reality, so I begrudgingly follow her orders.

And there, sitting on the number one fat spot, is Anna Laker.

At first, I couldn't quite believe it, so I read the leaderboard from bottom up, trying to figure out if they accidentally duplicated my name or something. Riley sits on the 13th spot, Zack on 7th, Skylar on 5th, Jace on 3rd and Cole on 2nd.

Huh.

My body bounces oddly among the sea of hands, random pressure added to my back before it disappears and is replaced by another. I should be wondering about the logistics of how they are carrying the ex-initiates over the wide tables and their end goal of this celebration method, however my brain only sees the number one.

I've beaten everyone.

The realization slowly creeps into my veins as my brain tries to piece together everything.

I've beaten everyone.

The corners of my lips twitch as I now understand Skylar's excitement for me.

I actually did it. I'm first.

First.

Bubbles of hysteria blossoms from my chest as I realize that initiation is no more, dorms is no more, Riley is no more and my dogs can come home.

Suddenly, I am no longer weirded out by everyone touching me. Every muscle relaxes and I start giggling like a kindergarten child who's playing hide-and-seek. My hands grow cold with excitement and tears well up in my eyes. It's over. It's all, finally, over.

Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh.

My hands are cupped over my mouth and nose, trembling and so, so relieved. It's back to school all over again, when results day arrived and I was among the top of the year. But this time, I am at the top.

Suddenly, I'm pulled down from the sea of people and land onto someone. Eric has his arms around me, the grin on his lips pulled wide to the ears. "You did it." There's nothing but pure happiness in his voice.

I bubble with laughter and throw my arms around his neck, hugging him close. Everything that transpired earlier overtaken by happiness. "I did it." I parrot. "I did it. I did it."

And in that moment of celebration, the door of hope reopened.

A/N

Hope you enjoyed this chapter. I'm mildly aware of how quickly Anna and Eric moved on after their 'fight'. But I think it's a good thing for people to move on quickly. I hope their attitudes towards each other in the beginning and the end wasn't too insane and practically impossible. (It felt possible for me when I imagined Eric's POV) But do feel free to leave a note on your thoughts about it.

So A-levels is much more draining than I thought :D

I have a week of holidays. Hoping to write as much as possible so I can upload on time.