When I wake up the next morning, I already regret my choice to spend extra hours practicing. Every inch of my body seems to ache as I lift myself out of bed to get ready, luckily as I start moving the pain diminishes slightly. The strange movements required to get changed, while horrifically uncomfortable, really helped to loosen some of my more obscure and sore muscles. By the time I walk into the training room, the stiffness is gone and while I still wince as turn in a new way, most of my movement has returned to some semblance of normal. All of us are in the room on time when Four strides in and heads directly to the board and begins writing names side by side.
Eventually he steps away and turn to face us with a serious look and seems to examine us before speaking.
"Today we are starting the sparring, as I said yesterday. We will be doing these one at a time, so for those of you at the end of the lineups, take that time to study up. Some of you may need it."
Some of the lineups seem almost cruel with how uneven the matchup is. Molly and Christina are paired and as I glance between the two, I can't help but feel bad for Christina. Molly is built solidly, mostly muscle. And while Christina isn't weak, she doesn't compare physically and she seems to know as much as she whispers to Tris.
Will and Al are making their way to the arena and it is a similar sort of disparity. Granted, I'm not sure if any of us could compare to Al physically. Will's best advantage would be to use his size and agility to dodge and hit where it counts. The same strategy that Tris will have to use if she plans to make it past this round of initiation. I glance back at the board again.
Tris vs. Kat
Are they purposefully trying to pit the Stiffs against each other? I glance at Four as he makes his way to the edge of the ring and watches as Al and Will each take a moment to stretch. His expression is blank, though there is a tightness to his face that indicates some level of discomfort. What might be causing it is also unclear. Does he not like the fighting? Does he think it's too soon? Movement at my periphery catches my eye and when I look over I see Eric standing at the other side of the ring opposite Four. He glances over with a smirk before returning to watching the match. It's a subtle glance, but Four seems to notice as he also looks over, his expression pinching even more. It's an ugly sort of his expression, and one that Marcus used to wear far too often. I flinch and notice confusion and worry cross Four's face.
I can't help but roll my eyes and approach the edge of the ring directly in front of me and watch with my arms crossed. Others also make their way closer and the talking slowly dies out as people focus on Will and Al as they circle each other slowly. The discomfort between the two is nearly tangible. While we haven't known each other very long, the idea of actually fighting and harming each other is unnerving. And while us not knowing what we are doing could help prevent serious injury, it can also lead to serious trouble with a single badly landed hit. One punch to the temple by someone as strong as Al could seriously harm or even kill someone, especially the smaller initiates like Tris or Myra. The thought of watching that makes my skin crawl and I rub my arms to try and dispel the bumps that have risen.
Al lands the first hit. It's a simple jab at Will's jaw, but the impact seems to ring in the room and several people gasp. Myra reaches up and puts her hand against her jaw as if she had been the one hit. Eric smirks and crosses his arms, shifting his weight back to a more comfortable stance, as if this was what he was waiting for.
The hit throws Will sideways and it takes him a couple steps to regain his balance. As he tries to block the next hit, it seems to do almost as much damage and his entire body seems to tremble with the hit. It would only take a couple more hits for Al to knock Will out.
The chatter starts again and glancing over reveals that while Peter and his cronies are whispering amongst themselves, Christina and Tris are doing the same. It's a waste of time and energy, the drama and gossip. From what I can tell, Christina and Tris are at least friendly with both Will and Al. One would think that they would at least have the decency to pay attention and try and cheer them on. Or at least to shut up so they can focus. Will was from Erudite, so he is likely a thinker. Concentration and strategy are crucial to them and the buzz of chatter could be distracting.
Will manages to catch Al off-guard and knocks down, but it doesn't last long. Al quickly manages to get back up, robbing Will of his opportunity for a quick hit. It seems like both are already starting to get tired, the fatigue and soreness from training yesterday limiting their endurance. They've returned to circling, neither seeming to want to exert the energy for an attack. It could also be a reservation about hurting a friend, if that's what they can even call each other. They're throwing glances at Eric and Four, as if waiting for further instruction. Four continues to watch impassively, ignoring their glances. Eric on the other hand seems to be growing irritated. He stands up straighter and checks his watch a few times, but when neither Will or Al has made any further move, he growls.
"We don't have all day! Are you both just going to continue dancing all day? If you want to spend your day playing around, then you should have transferred to Amity, now get on with it!"
Al flinches at the shouting and stops, turning to Eric with what can only be fear all across his face.
"What is the point? Are we being scored? Is it based on time? When does it end?"
Eric looks impossibly more annoyed at the questions and lets his arms uncross and tilts his head. He looks Al in the eye and Al flinches yet again, looking away.
"It's over when you can't possibly continue."
"Or," Four interrupts, "when one of you concedes."
Eric barks out a laugh and looks at Four from across the arena.
"Not anymore. Now the fights go to absolute defeat."
Four and Eric both narrow their eyes, glaring at each other. The tension seems to rise and I can feel myself and the other initiates get more nervous. While I'm not sure there are any consequences to the argument between the two, the idea of these two fighting verbally seems even more terrifying than the physical fight in the ring. They are spitting back and forth with a forced sense of calm and Al and Will's fight is forgotten in favor of watching Eric and Four. However, after several moments and back and forth jabs, Four seems to realize that he can't win. So instead to clenches his jaw and settles back into his silent stance, turning back to the two initiates.
Turning to look at Eric, I can almost see the rage simmering around his shoulders. In this moment I can understand why some of the other Dauntless members seem to fear Eric more than even Max. And glancing across the arena, Four is simmering with a different sort of anger. While Eric is a boiling rage that seems to radiate out, Four's is more hidden. Four has always simmered quietly, hiding everything away the moment feels anything. It seems that hasn't changed.
The fight seems to have resumed in the ring as Al starts to swing again, but this time Will is managing to dodge. He even manages to land a solid kick to Al's back, but in retribution Al goes for a full-body grapple. I can only imagine what Will is seeing, as the massive Al is coming at him. As Al grabs Will, he lands a hard punch to his jaw yet again and we can all watch Will shut down. There is nothing graceful about this win, and as Will falls to the ground in a heap, the mortification comes onto Al swiftly. He is crouching and tapping at Will's face, as if hoping that Will might open his eyes and jump up.
Everyone waits silently, unsure of whether Will is going to wake up. It takes far longer than anyone is comfortable with for him to finally open his eyes. Eric orders him up and out, watching him for a moment with excitement giving his eyes a somewhat wild look. Four is at the chalkboard and marking Al's name, noting his victory.
Eric announced Christina and Molly as the next fighters while Al pulls Will out of the ring. Four approaches Al to help him as Molly and Christina make their way to the arena. Four takes Will from Al and tells Al to return to watch the fights. Eric is splitting his attention between Four and the fight. While Will is awake, it's obvious that the fight left him weak. Four seems to be carrying most of his weight and it takes several minutes to reach the door, but I turn back to watch the fight.
"Kat," Four calls, "you're fight isn't happening anytime soon. Help me get Will to the infirmary." I turn to look at Four holding Will in the doorway. Will's forehead is already shining with sweat from the exertion of getting to the door. I glance back at the fight, but the two girls have paused after hearing Four. They glance over at Eric who is staring at Four with an unreadable expression. It looks odd on Eric's face. I hadn't realized just how expressive he normally was.
"She hasn't fought yet. Have Al help you."
"Al is worn down from the fight. Plus, he's too large and would make carrying Will more uncomfortable for everyone. Tris and Kat's fight is last, she has plenty of time to help me and get back."
"She will be missing valuable time observing the other fights. You're willing to put an initiate at a disadvantage just so you have an easier time?"
The tensions of the day have seemingly had some impact on Four and Eric, as Four nearly snarls. He starts to open his mouth before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.
"I think Kat will be fine missing one fight. And unless you want Will to pass out again with a possible concussion, then I'd advise you allow me to have some help." Four turns to look at me, a brow raised as he shifts Will's arm around his shoulder. Will stifles a groan and when I look at him, his eyes seem somewhat glazed. Four seems to be correct with the possible concussion.
I look over at Eric to see what he says, being the person with the authority in the room. At first he says nothing, just glaring at Four. Eventually he glances at me and looks back to the fight, muttering a "whatever," and gesturing for Christina and Molly to continue their match.
I make my way over and put Will's free arm over my shoulder. Four is slightly taller than me so Will is at an angle and he is taking uneven steps as we start to make our way out. The added weight reminds my muscles of the work we did yesterday, but I take a deep breath and do my best to ignore it.
"Will, it might be easier if you pick up your feet and just let us carry you." Four's voice is quiet and almost soft in tone as he addresses Will. It takes Will several seconds to process what was said, but he makes an affirmative noise and pulls his feet up slightly. I hadn't realized how much weight he was still managing to support and so I try and shift my grip on Will's arm and side as we walk. After a few steps though, his feet slowly lower and begin to drag on the floor.
"Hey Will," I say as Will had gotten unnervingly quiet, "are you awake?"
He makes a quiet sound, but doesn't say anything.
"Hey Will, you need to stay awake. I know they taught you that in Erudite."
I glance over to look at Will to see if he is awake, but instead make eye contact with Four. He seems more concerned, the potential of Will having a concussion making this situation a bit more dire. I look at Will's face and find his eyes somewhat open now and he picks his feet off the floor again.
"They taught me a lot in Erudite. You're going to need to be more specific. Why do I need to stay awake? Because I am rather tired."
I realize that I have no idea where the infirmary is and am just doing my best to follow where Four is leading us. I don't know if we are close or if we are still across the compound from our destination.
"You might have a concussion. So we're going to need you to try and stay awake."
Will laughs, and it is louder than I would have thought. It startles both Four and I based on how I feel Will's weight shift. I glance up at him again and he has a large grin on his face.
"A concussion? How on Earth could I already have a concussion?" I look at Four but this time he is staring forward, but his pace starts to quicken.
"You took some hard hits to the head. I wouldn't be surprised if Al hit a little too hard at your head."
"Al wouldn't give me a concussion on purpose," Will argues and while he can't possibly know Al's character that well already, I find myself agreeing with him.
"You're right, I doubt Al did it on purpose, but I also doubt that Al is all too aware of fighting form. An accident in regards to a headshot, even a small one, can lead to some dangerous outcomes."
"I'll be fine." I can't help but smile at the confidence.
"Probably. But stay awake for me anyways. We're almost there?" Four glances at me and gives a small nod. I can't help the sigh at the relief I feel, knowing we've almost gotten Will to arguable safety and proper supervision. I'm not sure how much longer I can keep Will awake. I glance back ahead of us and look down the hallway that Four has led us down and I finally notice a doorway at the end that I can only guess is the infirmary. It only takes a couple more minutes to get there and as we enter, a man glances up at us before silently leading us to an empty bed.
"Set him down here. Has the sparring started?" He turns to Four as he asks the question and he nods in response.
"Yeah. Another powerhouse initiate nailed him a couple times in the jaw. Knocked him out cold. Likely concussion." We try and settle Will on the bed as gently as possible. I sit next to him and support him so that he is sitting up as he had tried to lie down the second Four had started to let go. Four takes a couple steps back and continues to watch at a distance.
The nurse does a couple diagnostic tests while I support Will before turning to me.
"You can go ahead and let him lie back now. I'll handle him from here." With a nod, the nurse helps me settle Will again so that I can get up. I turn to Four, waiting for further instruction.
"Just a minute. As I said before, your fight won't be for a while so you aren't at risk of missing it. I'll lead to back, I just want to make sure he will be fine to continue initiation." I simply nod and turn back to watch as the nurse continues to ask Will questions while measuring his vitals. He occasionally turns and asks Four a question. I'm not entirely sure how long the process takes, but eventually he stands and gestures for us to follow him as he walks a few steps away.
"He does have a mild concussion, so I'm going to keep him here for a bit to keep him awake. It isn't severe so he should be fine to continue with initiation. Is he going to have a fight tomorrow?"
Four seems to contemplate his answer for a moment.
"Sparring is scheduled for every day. I can see if he can sit out for a day to recover."
The nurse simply nods at this.
"Other than that, he will be fine. You are good to return. We've got him here." He doesn't wait for a response, turning and returning to Will's bedside. Four turns and makes his way to the door without another word. It isn't until we are halfway down the hallways that he speaks.
"You did well."
"What?" Glancing over reveals that he is watching my expression closely.
"You handled his concussion well." I raise a brow and look at him for a moment, not sure if he is expecting a response. The silence makes me more uncomfortable and so let out another sigh, a seemingly common occurrence now.
"It was basic first aid. You of all people should know we were trained. Being able to care for others is expected in Abnegation."
"Yes, but not everyone is actually capable of using that information. We were trained, but seeing as you're here, that whole selfless caring act wasn't natural for you." I roll my eyes.
"I mean, we kind of had to use that first-aid to survive this far." Chancing a glance, I see Four's jaw clench. It's hard to tell if he is thinking the same thing as me, but I would hazard to guess he is. A specific memory comes to mind, from when we were both vastly different people. We were so young, so small, so fragile.
I don't even remember what Tobias had done to upset Father, but I do remember sitting in my room and listening to the chaos below as Marcus enacted his "justice" and "discipline". I remember sitting on my bed, curled up with hands clenched over my ears and humming to block out all the sounds that echoed around our house. Mother had only been gone a couple weeks, but the empty space she left in the house almost taunted us.
What Tobias had done must have been worse than normal. The punishment seemed to continue for forever. And I knew that I shouldn't go down there. I knew that trying to intervene would only lead to more punishments for someone. But Marcus hadn't done much to me thus far. Not when he had Tobias as an outlet. So, steeling myself, I let my hands drop and as I heard another cry of pain from below I leapt out of bed and raced down the steps. I paused in the doorway to the sitting room and as Father started to let his belt fall, I closed my eyes and threw myself in the middle.
A confused sound escaped Marcus as he pulled the belt back, Tobias only panting behind me.
"What are you doing?" Marcus snarled. I'm not sure if I was already crying upstairs, but my vision is blurred as I look at Father. His anger is the most frightening sight. If only I had known that things could only get worse from there.
"He's learned his lesson," I say softly. I can hear the trembling in my voice. I know that I sound pathetic. But I don't know what else to do. I just can't listen to this anymore.
"And how could you know that?"
Tobias is still panting behind me, but I can also hear him gasping as he tries to hold back tears.
"He didn't mean it. Whatever it was, it was a mistake and he knows better now. Right Tobias?"
A soft "yes, I promise" comes from behind me, but I don't risk looking away from Father. After what feels like an eternity, with held breath and barely withheld terror, I see Father slowly begin to put his belt back around his waist. He observes me for a moment, before glancing at Tobias on the floor.
"You should be grateful for your sister's selflessness. Don't make these mistakes again." With that he strides away. I turn to Tobias and kneel down, pulling his arm around my shoulder. It takes a couple tries to get Tobias to his feet and he lets out a little cry as he does so. I try to avoid looking at him as I lead him up the stairs, pausing at every step so he can let out a pained gasp and regain his breath. It takes several minutes to get him to his bedroom and seated on the bed.
"Wait here," I say as I race to the hall closet and pull out the first aid kit. We aren't supposed to have one, all of the first aid kits in Abnegation being used to help the factionless, but Father kept one after the first time he lost his temper. Tobias had trouble explaining to others why he had a cut on his cheek. Father decided from then on a bandage made it easier to hide.
I then head to the bathroom and wet a couple washrags with warm water and make my way back to Tobias. Finally looking at him, the cold that I feel overtake me at his current state gives me pause for a moment. But when he glances up at me, it breaks me out of my trance and I stand in front of him and wipe at his face and begin to tend to his wounds. I'm lucky they had taught us first-aid when we were young, though I'm sure they hadn't intended for us to need it at home.
It takes a long time to properly tend to all of Tobias's injuries. As I double check to make sure that I haven't missed anything, Tobias rubs a hand along his face.
"Hey," I grab his hands to keep him from making any of his injuries worse, "you're going to hurt yourself."
He doesn't say anything, just staring at our hands. He lets out a strained sob and pulls me forward, burying his face in my shoulder and as he begins to shake, I try to wrap my arms around him. There are no bandages I can apply to fix this. But I try my best to act as a substitute as I just hold my brother as he falls apart in my arms. Eventually the shaking stops and Tobias leans back, eyes red and swollen and his face splotchy. I lay him back and pull his blankets over him.
"Go to sleep. I'll come wake you if need be."
I repack the first-aid kit and grab the washcloths and turn to leave. As I turn, Tobias grabs my hand gently and I look back at him.
"Thank you," he whispers. His eyes are closed and he seems almost peaceful. I give his hand a gentle squeeze and pull away. I close his door behind me and go back to the closet to put the kit away. As I place it back on the shelf and close the door, Marcus reaches the top of the steps. At first neither of us say anything. He simply watches me as I fiddle with the washcloths in my hands. He then approaches and a part of me wants to flee but another thinks that if I ran he would only get angry. So I wait with eyes fixed on the floor as Marcus comes closer and lifts his hand. I close my eyes, anticipating some sort of pain. While Marcus hasn't done anything to me, it is only a matter of time. If he can do what he's done to Tobias, then there is no reason for me to be excused. But instead he places the hand on my shoulder.
In shock, I look up and into his dark eyes and find no hints of the anger from before. Instead, now they are almost warm. It is discomforting just how different those eyes are in such a small amount of time.
"That was very selfless of you, my daughter. Standing up for your brother, it was a kind act." I look back at the floor, unsure of what to do.
"Thank you," is all that I can think to say, twisting the washcloths in my hands to give them something to do.
With a nod, he then removes his hand and continues down the hallway into his office and closes the door behind him.
I'm jolted back to reality as someone laughs raucously somewhere ahead of us. We are at the Pit, though I don't remember going through the Pit on the way here. Granted, I was distracted and so I don't remember much of anything about getting to the infirmary. The remainder of the walk is silent, though there is a heaviness that hangs in the air around us. Memories are a heavy burden.
When we reach the training room, another fight has started. Four says nothing as he walks back to the side of the arena, giving Eric a nod as Eric watches us. Something is off about Christina as she stands leaning between Al and Tris, trembling. Her eyes are splotchy and she is rubbing her hands.
Drew and Edward are fighting and it seems that Edward is just playing with Drew. He lacks the intellect to strategize. He relies too much on brute force, but he doesn't have the same advantage as Al. Edward holds himself with confidence and it is obvious that he has trained in fighting before.
I walk up to Peter, who is standing on the same side as Eric, just a few feet away. Molly stands next to him, a smug smile on her mouth.
"What happened to Christina?" I ask. Peter glances away from the fight to look at me.
"Welcome back. She lost." Molly lets out a smug chuckle and I can see Tris and Al glare from across the arena. Christina on the other hand doesn't react. My confusion must be obvious, as Tris and Al look at me and Tris seems conflicted for some reason. But she quickly turns back to talking quietly to Christina.
"But why does she look so… haunted? Surely you didn't beat her that bad, if she didn't need to go to the infirmary?"
"She was a coward. So she had to prove her right to be here." It is Eric who responds this time, loudly enough for everyone to hear. I see Four's eyes narrow, turning to look at Christina and then back at Eric. The leader doesn't seem to care, ignoring the stares and continuing to watch the fight as Edward kicks Drew in the stomach and Drew seemingly folds in half with a loud grunt. I glance at the board and am surprised to see that I only missed one fight, with Molly's name circled.
I turn to the fight as Edward lands another kick to Drew's side as he lays on the ground and Drew's brain seems to define that as the final blow as he passes out. Without a word, Four goes to the word and circles Edward's name while Edward waits for Drew to wake up and helps him out of the arena.
The fights continue, with a break for lunch, but by evening, there are still several fights left. The day ends with only Tris and I left, but Four decides there isn't enough time for a full fight.
"It seems there were some unanticipated interruptions so we couldn't get through all the fights today."
"That's unacceptable. Luckily we aren't deducting points for this today, but you could've cost two initiates some precious points," Eric cuts in, "and don't blame anyone but yourselves if that happens and they seek revenge. Tomorrow, everyone fights."
Tris and I look at each other, and we seem to share a sigh of relief, knowing that we aren't being penalized.
Four dismisses us for the day and while some make their way to the pit to have some fun, I stay. Four and Eric both give me quizzical looks.
"If I may, since I didn't get to fight, I'd like to practice," I explain while gesturing to the punching bags at the wall. Eric smiles, while Four seems worried.
"Don't work yourself too hard. Otherwise you'll be sore and stiff, putting you at a disadvantage."
Eric scoffs loudly and rolls his eyes, giving Four a patronizing sort of look.
"Oh shut up Four. It's partly your fault she didn't get to fight. I was looking forward to seeing that fight."
Four's jaw clenches and he simply nods and walks out without a word. Eric watches him leave, amusement clear in his stance and expression. Without waiting for another response I make my way over to the bags and begin running some drills. I can feel Eric watching, but I do my best to ignore it. After several run-throughs, I begin different combinations of kicks and punches and I can hear Eric approach.
"Here," he stands at the punching bag next to mine, "try some of these. They're not as straightforward, but I think you can get them."
Eric spends the next couple hours showing me various moves and correcting my posture and movements as I struggle to keep up. I am sweaty and sore all over by the time Eric calls it an evening. I'm leaning over with my hands on my knees trying to catch my breath as Eric stands next to me, also panting slightly.
"Four robbed you of a victory today."
I don't respond, but I do look up at Eric when he says this. His eyes are cloudy and the somewhat dim lights are glinting lightly off of the metal piercings. They almost twinkle like stars through my exhausted gaze.
"I know you would have won."
And with that, he simply turns and leaves. And I am left alone to wonder at the words.