Disclaimer: I don't own Divergent.
Yesterday was hard. I trained in hand-to-hand combat for the first time, and it took a toll on me. Know what it's like to practice the same basic punch over and over on the bag, to the point where you tire out within ten minutes and the bag stops moving even an inch? It's more than discouraging, it's soul-crushing.
For me, though, it's not the same kind of disappointment as when you fail a math quiz in school. I'm a Dauntless initiate, and my whole life is riding on these little tests. I need to pass each and every one before I'm allowed to take the final exam, or else I'll be factionless.
With this thought weighing on me, I look across the training room. I take in the faces of the other transfers. They all look like they've just rolled out of bed, probably because they have. But only a couple appear to be feeling the same turmoil that's inside of me. Jason and Sean, for instance, seem totally indifferent. Do they even realize how high the stakes are?
Maybe they're just really good at pretending. After all, part of being brave is not letting anyone else know you're afraid.
"Alright," Amar starts, "here's how you're paired up." He finishes putting up the sheet of paper with our names on it, stepping back so we can see. "You get one minute to look, then we start the fights."
Along with everyone else, I inch forward, craning my neck to see clearly. Yes, I'm on the list, and another transfer's name is printed across from mine. That's my opponent. When I discover who it is, the upset feeling in my stomach becomes an all-consuming wave of nausea.
Crap. I'm dead meat. Might as well start planning my own funeral.
I don't have time to throw up, though. I've got something entirely new to worry about. I'm checking out the list once more when I glimpse the first two names.
Eric K. - Amy N.
"Is he serious?" I hear Eric protest. "That chick's got no fighting experience." When I glance at him, I see that he's as okay with this as I am. And I get why. To a guy like Jason, fighting Amy would be a dream come true. An easy win for a fairly big dude. That's just the problem. How could the Dauntless call this a fair fight?
I suppose fairness isn't big on their list of values. Amar wastes no time in getting the first fight underway. He raises his voice and yells, "Erudite, Candor! In the ring!"
Eric and Amy obey. They move slowly and hesitantly, like they've got guns pointed at their heads.
Yet they have no choice, and so the match begins. It differs from traditional boxing, or even MMA. The competitors don't have on protective gear, or even gloves. They're gonna be trading blows with bare knuckles. Also, the match won't be divided into rounds. No one will be keeping score. It means nothing to the Dauntless to go the distance with a tough opponent. It only counts as a win if you render them completely helpless, or scare them enough that they don't dare continue.
Well, I know my best friend can do both of those things. I'm just not sure whether he'll want to. There's likely no penalty for passivity, but it's ingrained in Eric to not stall during a fight. So why is he spending more time on the outer edges of the arena? Why is there barely any forward momentum in the moves he's making, and why does it look like Amy's wearing him down?
"What're you doing?" I nudge him, after yet another feeble jab. "I know you can hit harder than that."
My criticism's reaching him. He seems to be waking up at last. The next time Amy gives him an opening, he lets his instincts take over. The muscles in his arm twitch, the punch connecting with Amy's face before anyone can process what they're seeing. The Candor girl then topples forward and kisses the dirty footprints on the floor.
"Oh, snap!" somebody gasps. My heart rate shoots up.
"You done, Amy?" Amar wants to know. He's watching both fighters closely, and now, so am I. Just when I think Amy's finished, she painstakingly peels herself off the ground, ending in a crouching position. "No!" she manages to say, shaking her head with vigor.
That's all it takes. With a single cue from Amar, the fight is back on.
Some people hoot and holler, thrilled to witness the action. But Eric, the one who's actually in the ring, remains stoic. His poker face doesn't change, even as he fends off one sloppy attack after another from Amy. Then another opportunity arises. Amy's gotten more daring with the passing of time, and now she's leveling up for a takedown. She lowers her head and rushes forth, prepared to tackle her opponent with both hands.
A foolish strategy. She's going to run right into Eric's left elbow, which would surely knock her unconscious. Yet, at the last possible second, Eric does something no one could've predicted. He backs up, doesn't follow through with the elbow strike, and allows Amy to attempt her pointless assault.
Both Amar and I do a double take. "What was that?" our instructor grills Eric from the sidelines. "You almost had her!"
Eric looks up as if to explain himself. He just successfully repelled his opponent, so maybe he thinks he can buy some time. But he'll pay for those few distracted seconds. Within that span of time, Amy lurches forward and punches wildly at his face, hitting him right in the mouth.
Blood bursts forth from his lower lip. My stomach drops, and ooh's from the transfers hang in the air.
Eric staggers back, holding his bleeding mouth with one hand. Much to my relief, his recovery's quick, and he blocks Amy's next offensive maneuver. Yet it's become clearer than ever, this fight has to end within the next minute or two. Any longer, and Amy just might gain the upper hand.
Looking at my best friend's face, I can tell he wants to win. He's just trying to work out how to win, that is, without causing grievous harm to his opponent. Is it even a possibility here?
Guess not.
Eric decides to surrender - figuratively. This time, he doesn't shy away from using all his power. Amy's coming right toward him, her fist swinging back, ready to punch. Her head bows a little as she keeps her eyes on her target, the soft flesh of her opponent's abdomen. Then Eric shifts his weight and brings his right leg up, smashing Amy's jaw with a hard knee. The girl's head snaps to the side and she falls, dead weight.
"Damn!" many voices exclaim at the same time. "He annihilated her," I hear one of them add.
Amar claps for Eric, a proud grin on his face. "Congrats, Erudite," he says. "You stumbled at first, but you made it through."
Eric's barely paying attention. His eyes keep drifting to Amy's limp form, like he's gonna go check on her. Amar notices this and beckons Eric over. He'll have none of that in his arena. Once Eric's stepped out of the ring, Amar walks over and kneels next to the unconscious girl.
"Hey, nice work," I whisper to Eric as he passes me. He says nothing, but gives me a look that says, Are you serious?
I frown. No, I wasn't happy to see that Candor girl get knocked out, but what choice do any of us have? If he hadn't won, he would've been the one to get humiliated in front of everyone. The Dauntless would never respect him after that.
Guilt overcomes me when I realize how callous I sound. Am I that different from Marcus, who said he was doing me a favor, while literally beating me with a belt? I don't want to be like the Dauntless who mistake bravado for bravery, using their strength and cunning to bully others.
But right now, I can't afford to think about anything other than my opponent. After a woozy Amy opens her eyes and climbs to her feet, she's led out of the arena by Amar. Then our instructor points in my general direction and makes an announcement.
"Second fight starts… now!"
Thomas E. - Sean A.
That's what it says on the sheet of paper. The second fight of the day will be Eric's best friend, up against one of their enemies. The stakes couldn't possibly be higher.
"You can do this," Eric says to Tobias, trying to sound upbeat. "Remember the tips I gave you."
Tobias smiles gratefully at him, but that look of hope fades away once he's standing in the arena. Sean lumbers over to meet him, a wolfish grin on the kid's face. Eric doesn't think he'd be surprised if the boy actually began licking his chops.
"Oh, man, I can't watch," Eric murmurs. He looks down, so it's easier for him to not hear Amar introducing the fighters. It won't be good for his friend's morale, but Eric steps away from the ring and keeps his distance. He'd rather miss the gorier parts of the match.
Instead, he meanders over to Amy, who still seems dizzy from the knockout. Eric extends a hand in her direction, unsure what to say. Should he apologize? Offer some sort of consolation? He can't even begin to imagine the extreme embarrassment she was subject to. Also, that vicious knee to the head could've left her with a bad concussion. Why didn't he consider that?
He doesn't get to talk to her, though, because she swats his hand away immediately, a sullen look on her face. Eric decides to leave her be.
A feminine voice, belonging to a different girl, speaks up next to him. "Hi," whispers Mia. She looks even happier for Eric than their instructor. "Aren't you proud? You got the first win."
"Maybe I did," Eric says with indifference. He jerks his head toward Amy, trying not to let his regret show. "But how do you think she feels?"
Mia says something in answer, but all Eric hears is a sudden roar from the mob, before which Sean and Tobias are brawling. He swallows his feelings of dread and sneaks a glance at the fight.
His biggest fears are confirmed. Sean's currently beating on Tobias, who's on the ground, curled up, almost in the fetal position. Every few seconds, the spots of dark liquid on the ground multiply, making Eric's insides churn. Eric gets that Tobias needs to protect his vital organs, but why's he not even fighting back?
"Toby!" Eric nearly shouts. "Come on, get up." He meets eyes with his friend and desperately motions for him to stand up.
With a herculean effort, Tobias does as Eric suggested. He even manages to get a good hit in, namely, an uppercut to Sean's fleshy middle. The Candor boy doubles over, his facial muscles locked in a grimace, and Eric feels a flash of triumph. Ultimately, though, Sean's brute strength wins out. It takes several minutes but eventually, Tobias collapses.
All Eric can do is watch, helpless as a turtle stuck on its shell. Distantly he hears Amar yell, "Enough!" Sean stops mid-kick. Thank the Lord. He was about to clobber Tobias in the face with his foot, which could've inflicted serious damage.
Tobias is far from unscathed, though. Dark red blood leaks from his nose and trickles from the corners of his mouth. He gingerly places a hand against his rib cage, like the bones there are brittle and breaking. Sure, he made Sean scream in pain once, but was that worth a bruised and swollen, probably broken, hand?
No. Eric wishes he could say this out loud, express his discontent, but he can't do that while Amar's congratulating the victor. "Outstanding work, Sean," he praises the big kid. He turns to look at the defeated Tobias. "Abnegation, you made a good effort. Try harder next time."
Oh, it sounds like good advice. But, Eric believes, it's a slap in the face to the initiates. Who else is going through all this punishment, while the leaders and instructors get to sit back and watch?
He winces as he touches his bottom lip. The blood there is fresh, and it hurts like hell.
My nose is all bent out of shape, the swelling making it look comical. It was a rich scarlet when I last looked at it, but now I think it's a deep purple. Two of my teeth got knocked out, and I have no idea where they fell. What if I accidentally swallowed them? Oh well, not like I can help it. The thought makes me crack up. The Dauntless nurses look at me in bewilderment, but I don't care.
It feels good to laugh again. Especially after enduring the worst physical pain in recent memory. "Goddamn it," I'd said upon entering the infirmary. "Something's definitely broken." And I was correct. Three fractured ribs, bloody nose, injured hand, missing teeth.
The healing process can't come fast enough. But for the most part, I can take the pain. After dozens of instances of Marcus beating the shit out of me, it's become like an old friend to me. Something to keep me company in dark times. To give me reassurance that I haven't yet gone insane.
So I smile through gritted teeth, thanking the head nurse for organizing the treatment plan and giving me the medication. No, my body won't heal in time for tomorrow's fight. And I'm not stupid enough to try to fight through those injuries. That's why I agreed to a last-minute surgical procedure, scheduled for tonight, to fix my nose, hand, and ribs.
The head nurse seems content with her work. She moves on, to examine the wound on the lip of the patient next to me. Eric's, of course.
He relaxes when he's told his injury isn't severe. He'll pretty much be okay, as long as he doesn't eat or drink anything that would irritate the flesh.
Then he turns to me. "Want me to stay?" he asks.
I almost start laughing all over again. He's done way too much for me already. Put off getting himself looked at so I'd be the first to receive treatment. Held on tight to my hand while I got my lip stitched. Made it clear with a look that no one would be hearing about that outside of the infirmary.
I shake my head at him. "Nah," I say with a sly grin. Then, in a voice almost too low for him to hear, "Go have fun on your date."
Yep. I've figured out what he's got scheduled for this evening.
The strong odor of alcohol lingers in the air, accompanied by the guests' raucous laughter. The restaurant is in chaos, as it always is after sundown. Actually, the whole of the Pit is in a similar state. Packed with partygoers and youth who just want to let loose.
Is Eric the only one in the establishment who isn't making any sort of noise? Yeah, he thinks so. Is that a good or bad thing? He doesn't know. He picks at the food on his plate, taking tiny bites to avoid aggravating the wound on his lip.
Mia's seated directly across from him. "You're pretty quiet," she observes, once she's done chewing. "Still feel bad for Amy?"
The Candor girl's name is like a pinprick to Eric's heart. He hurries to shake his head. "I'm getting over it," he tells Mia.
She smiles a little. "You kinda have to," she says. Eric's puzzled as to why she's even talking at all, since she got slugged in the mouth by her opponent, Jason. Now she has a split lip and a black eye, and there's a splint on one of her fingers. Eric figures it could've been worse. But still.
Jason's a real piece of shit.
Mia continues. "Which is why, if we ever have to fight…"
Eric's heart skips a beat. "What?" he gets out.
"I don't want you to hold back," Mia finishes. She looks one hundred percent serious, and that makes absolutely no sense. Is she really advocating for more violence, after Jason put her through the wringer?
"What are you saying?" Eric pushes back. He already knows, but the delusional part of him is still denying it.
Mia has to spell it out for him. "It's like when you came to get me at the infirmary," she reminds him. "I said it once and I'll say it again. I'm not damaged goods. I wanna fight someone who'll fight fair."
That makes some sense. It's something a proud Dauntless would say. Better to lose with honor than cheat to win, or else you're a coward. But there's a whole lot of irony in that statement, because the fights themselves are never fair. They can't be, when the Dauntless won't acknowledge differences in weight class, let alone experience.
"You think I'd want to knock you out?" Eric asks Mia. It's all he can think to say.
"No," Mia answers. She leans forward, her eyes like twin laser beams. "But you'd treat me as your equal, right?" It sounds more like an ultimatum than a genuine question.
"Um…" Eric pretends to weigh his options. "Yeah, I would."
"You'd better." Mia straightens in her seat, the smile returning to her face. "Or I'll kick your ass instead." As if they weren't just discussing possibly beating each other up, she picks up her fork and resumes eating her dinner.
Safe to say, this is shaping up to be a disastrous second date.
The last person Eric expects to see at this hour is someone from his former faction, Erudite. The past few days in Dauntless, he's spent among hundreds of pierced, tattooed, black-clad youth. Rarely an elderly person in sight, let alone one dressed in blue. Eric's parents would be bitterly disappointed, but now he feels compelled to say that black is his favorite color.
Yet when he glimpses the blue-uniformed lady strolling down the hall, he gets the childish urge to jump in place with happiness. The woman is tall, blonde, and statuesque, with a professional, very Erudite demeanor. She's attractive without appearing cute, her hair secured in a tight bun and her round glasses framing her watery gray eyes.
It's Jeanine Matthews. Though Eric would never call her that to her face.
Had she been any other Erudite official, Eric would've paused to wonder what she's doing here. But this is his favorite teacher, one of the people who gave him the most support as a child. The first thing he wants to do is thank her for guiding him to Dauntless.
Right now, she's busy with a phone call. "Yes, I heard," she tells the person on the other end. "New developments are coming to light…"
It'd be rude to interrupt her, but Eric doesn't care. "Ms. Matthews!" he calls.
Instantly, she looks up from her phone. "Eric!" she exclaims. The next thing she does is tell the other person to hang up, that she'll chat with them later. No, she hasn't lost what made her special in the first place.
"What a lovely surprise," Jeanine says to her former student, after putting her phone away. "I haven't spoken to you in so long. Is initiation treating you well?" She takes a look at Eric's cut lip, then frowns. "You look like you were in a nasty skirmish."
"I…" Eric suddenly feels like a cornered animal. "Technically, I was." He quickly puts on a poker face. "I'm good now."
Jeanine smiles. "That's reassuring. Most transfers struggle to adjust to Dauntless life."
"What if I'm one of them?" Eric blurts out. Not the smartest move you can make, choosing to pour out your feelings to an Erudite, but Eric trusts Jeanine. "'Cause I'm having trouble."
"With what?" Jeanine's gray eyes widen, so she resembles a worried mother.
Eric lets out a slow breath, then he gets this off his chest. "Hand-to-hand combat." He hurries to clear things up. "I mean, I'm great at the physical stuff. But I'm not on the same wavelength as these people. They could snap a kid's neck and be fine with it." Trying to sound apathetic, he adds, "I couldn't."
Right away, Jeanine has the solution. "Honey," she criticizes gently, "you need to think logically. Don't be confused by your emotions." The tenderness in her voice is replaced by a matronly wisdom. "Consider this. If you become too reluctant to act, you'll lose every one of your fights. If you lose every one of your fights, you'll get ranked last. And if you get ranked last, you won't have a future, now would you?"
"No," replies Eric. He can already feel most of his stresses slipping away.
"So you should think long-term," continues Jeanine. "A bit of pain is worth it when you're planning for the future. Does that make sense?"
"Uh, yes." Eric's mouth curls into a smile, even though his lip still stings. "Thanks so much, Ms. Matthews."
"Anytime." His former teacher suddenly reaches for him and locks him in a crushing embrace. "I feel like you're one of my own." Her abnormally cold hands gather up the sides of Eric's face, then she kisses him violently on the lips, like she's a widowed woman desperate for a taste of teenage flirtation.
Other boys, particularly those from Abnegation, would fall to pieces under the weight of her stare. But Eric's gotten stronger. He's become accustomed to standing tall and staying silent through pain.
That's how a seemingly cold professor from Erudite shows love. She'll push and push until you finally break, so you'll be forced to put your life back together, and make yourself better for it.
AN: Things got real creepy at the end there. Next installment will contain even more action and drama, as well as a shout-out to two great boxing legends, one from the East, one from the West. Can't wait to share it with you! Till next time my loyal readers!