Tomorrow is Visiting Day. I'm looking forward to seeing my mother, but I'm also nervous. Will she be proud of me? Or does she already know I'm not doing well. Will she be disappointed?

When I try to pull my pants up my legs, it stops at my thighs. The bulging muscles are stopping the fabric. I sigh and let my pants fall back down. I wasn't super skinny before coming to Dauntless, but I certainly didn't train this consistently to develop the muscles. In Abnegation, you weren't supposed to run. My mother prepared me mentally for what was to come and helped train me in the things that she reasonably could. But I couldn't run all the time. I couldn't spar with various opponents, only my mother.

I glance at myself in the mirror and take in the changes. I am somehow leaner and bulkier at the same time. There is no softness left to my body. Initiation has taken all layers of fat available and in many places already, replaced it with muscle.

I inch into the dormitory, hoping it's empty. Luck is not on my side, however, as Peter, Molly, and Drew are watching me when I enter. They start snickering as I make my way to my bunk.

I do my best to ignore them and fumble for the one dress currently own; Christina made me buy it a while back. As I get to my feet and turn, Peter is there. Way too close. I jump back in surprise, slamming my knee into my bunk. I try to slide past him, but he slams his hand against the bed frame, blocking me in.

"Get away from me," I warn.

"Oh, come on, princess," he drawls. "We're all friends here." Molly and Drew are laughing. We're all just curious what you're hiding under that towel."

No.

My eyes dart around, looking for an escape path.

"She's practically a child," Molly laughs out. "I don't think there's anything under there."

"We should check to me sure," replies Drew, taking a step towards Peter.

I make to duck under Peter's arm and run towards the door. Peter's hand grasps the towel firmly and pulls it away as I walk. The cold air on my naked body freezes me for just a moment before I react, holding the dress to my naked body and running to the bathroom.

A sob bursts from my mouth as I slam the door behind me and rest my back against it. I take several deep, shuddering breaths before calming myself. The dress is a v-neck that shows my raven tattoo. The one lower that is supposed to remain hidden is partially visible, but not enough that anyone would be able to figure out what it is.

I'm late walking into training, held up by having to go buy new clothes from the Pit. A dress is absolutely not appropriate attire for fighting.

"So glad you could join us, princess," Eric drawls out as I walk in. A good show, I suppose, because as he's talking, he's walking towards me and drops his voice out of earshot once he gets close.

"You look like you're about to be sick," he says quietly. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," I say insistently, leaning to look around him. I see Four standing at the boards to write in the matchups for the fights. Let me fight Peter. Please, please let me fight Peter.

I see him put Christina's name next to mine and my shoulders fall. Eric follows my eyes and sees the cause of my disappointment.

"Who?" he asks simply.

"Peter," I grit out lowly.

"You want to fight Peter?" he asks incredulously.

"Yes."

My insistence that nothing has happened is clearly bullshit now, because Eric can clearly tell something happened with Peter. I'm not too upset though, because he just nods his head once and walks straight to Four.

"No, I don't think so," he says simply, pulling the chalk out of his hand. "I actually want to see what people are capable of, not watch two best friends circle around and refuse to actually hit each other."

He erases Christina's name and puts in Peter, and moves Christina to fight Molly, with Peter's original opponent, Edward, now fighting Al. Oooo, that's not going to go well.

I barely pay attention to the fights that come before me. I'm too amped up with anticipation. Eric has been sending me questioning glances every few minutes, but I ignore those as well.

Finally, Peter and I are making our way to the ring.

"Was that a birthmark I saw on your ass?" He's goading me. I'm not sure if his goal is to embarrass me or anger me; ultimately, he wants me to get emotional so I'll mess up. Bad news for him – I'm already angry and embarrassed. It's not going to make it easier on him.

Unfortunately, maybe for both of us, it's just going to make me lose control. I'm so used to holding back to hide what I'm actually capable of and right now, I just don't care.

I'm not entering this fight passively. Remembering what Four told me before, as soon as we're instructed to start, I strike.

Peter wasn't expecting me to move first. His hands are up, but he's unprepared. I feign with my right hand and he predictably moves to block it. The second his arms are out of the way, I strike with my left against his throat.

He staggers backwards, breathless from the impact. His recovery is quick, and now I can see that I've pissed him off. He throws a punch at me, but I duck and drive my fist into his stomach. He grunts and curls into himself for a moment. I finish my action by spinning around to stand behind him, and the moment he begins to straighten himself, I throw all my power into a kick at the back of his knees.

The sound of his kneecaps hitting the floor is loud. Despite the hit, he's prepared for me and I'm not stupid enough to get too close where he can grab me. I bounce backwards, waiting for him to get to his feet.

He moves first this time, rushing at me. I throw a punch when he gets close enough, but he grabs my arm and twists it around my back, forcing me to spin. I try to get out of his hold, but he tightens it.

"Now, what I really want to know, is what this other tattoo was, princess."

To my horror, I feel his hand at the collar of my shirt. My skin crawls. I feel the movement against my skin as he starts to pull my shirt down.

I see both Eric and Four take a step forward to intervene, but it only lasts a moment because as soon as I feel Peter's hand touch the bare skin at my collarbone, all I can see is red.

I relax my body and go almost limp in his arms. The action forces him to relax his hold a bit now that he has to support all my weight, and I use that exact moment to tighten every muscle in my core. I use his hold to lift my entire body of the floor and then plant my feet back firmly on the ground, using the momentum to throw my head back against his face as hard as I can.

He releases me in surprise, but I don't let him away. I grab his arm – the one that had been touching me – and pull it up over my shoulder. I crouch lower to the ground and swing him up over my head and slam him onto the floor.

It takes his breath away, as I intended, but I'm not giving him a break this time. I kick as hard as I can into his side. He rolls and clutches it to protect the spot, but I don't stop. I kick again – stomach this time. He doesn't stay still, but I'm not aiming anywhere specific. Each of his movements just means my foot lands somewhere else.

Blood explodes from his nose as I kick his face. I land another in his chest.

Suddenly there is a force stopping me. I don't know when he got there, but Four's hands are clamped around my arms, pulling me backwards. I struggle against him – that bastard is still breathing and that's unacceptable.

He wraps both arms around me, holding tightly against my chest and forces my arms immobile at my sides. My feet leave the ground as he lifts me and walks backwards until we're standing out of the ring.

"You won," he mutters. "Stop."

I stop struggling at he releases me. I step away from him and turn to look at him, my hand touching the tender spot on the back of my head where I headbutt him. His eyes are wide and staring at me in alarm.

"You need to leave," he instructs me. "Take a walk."

I glance back over at Peter, who is still on the floor. He groans and I watch blood trickle from his lips.

I wait for it to hit me – the horror, the disgust at what I had just done.

Following instructions for once, I spin and walk out the door.

The disgust doesn't come. All I feel is the sweet thrill of vindication.

As the adrenaline wore off, I found myself shaking standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom. Without a second thought, I started stripping my clothes off and stepped into the shower for the second time this morning.

It didn't take long for steam to fill the stall with the water turned as hot as it would go. I felt the stinging on my skin and for several moments just stood there, staring blankly down at my arms as they turned beat red under the heat. I see the bruises on my arms from the few punches I blocked instead of dodging, but I can't feel them.

Suddenly, like a light switch, I start scrubbing. All I can feel is his hand on my chest. His breath against my neck as he held me against him.

I'm not sure how long I was in there, but by the time I hear the door open, I'm sitting on the floor in the stall as the hot water beats down on me.

"Tris," I hear her call out. "Are you in here?"

I don't say anything. I can't. My voice doesn't seem to be working.

Nonetheless, I see her stop in front of the open stall. She looks down at me and probably says my name a couple times, but I can't really process it.

Her hand reaches into the shower stall and turns the water off. I shiver at the instant cold, and then she's pulling me up by my arm and wrapping me in a towel.

I don't fight her, but I don't help her either. I don't know what's wrong with me. She pulls me gently along to sit on the bench in the bathroom and then I hear the door open again.

Barely, I hear her say to someone outside the bathroom, "Will, can you go find Shauna please?"

I don't know what is said on the other side of the door, but she follows up with, "Yeah, I just think I'm going to need a bit of help. Al, would you grab a change of clothes from her bunk?"

A few moments later, Christina takes a seat next to me on the bench and just looks at me, setting a stack of clothing next to her.

"You want to talk about it?" she asks. I open my mouth for a moment, but nothing comes out, so I just close it again. She nods, seeming to understand.

We sit there together for an indeterminate amount of time before the door swings open again and I think this must be Shauna. I glance up at her and sure enough, there she is.

"What happened?" she asks, already in nurse mode. Her eyes are scanning my body looking for injuries, but she won't find many.

"Her last fight this morning was against Peter," Christina starts. "He got a bit gropey. She just snapped. Almost killed him. Four had to physically remove her. She's been in here ever since. I can't get her to say a word. I had to drag her out of the shower; she was just sitting on the floor under the water. I think," Christina pauses a moment. "I think she might be in a little bit of shock over… you know… what she did."

That's the first thing that gets a reaction out of me. "No," I croak out, shaking my head violently, but then wincing as the movement sends sparks of pain behind my eyes. Okay, so that headbutt may have given me a concussion. I'm not sure why it's important for her to understand, but I feel like she needs to know that I have absolutely no negative emotions about what I did to Peter.

I look up and lock eyes with Shauna. She holds my gaze for a second, and then her eyes trail along the exposed skin she can see.

"She rubbed her skin raw," Shauna comments slowly. She gets it. Looking back at me, she says. "Tris came from Abnegation."

I'm shocked, and for only a short moment, I wonder how she made that connection. But then I get it. A little bit of groping probably isn't enough to send a normal 16-year-old girl into a panicked frenzy. But a virgin from Abnegation who's lived most of their life with no physical contact outside of her family – yeah, maybe this is expected.

She looks in my eyes for confirmation. I don't move, but I manage to blink once at her and she seems to take that as a yes.

She sighs. "Okay, Tris, are you physically injured?"

I touch the back of my head, and Christina provides the commentary. "She headbutted him pretty hard in the fight. I'm sure that hurt."

Shauna nods. "Anything else?"

I say nothing, so once again, Christina steps in with, "Honestly, he barely got his hands on her. She um… her rage basically made her unstoppable."

"You have good instincts, Tris," compliments Shauna, keeping her tone light. She takes a deep breath. "Okay, Tris, we're going to get you dressed now. I need you to stand up."

As Christina pulls me to my feet, I hear a commotion outside the door. Glancing over her shoulder, Shauna instructs Christina to take over while she walks over to see what's going on.

Christina is starting to pull out the clothing she brought me as the door starts to open, but Shauna catches it with her foot and stops it firmly from going any further.

"What's wrong?" I hear from the other side of the door.

"Sorry Shauna, we couldn't exactly overpower him," apologizes Will. When the first voice speaks again, I realize who it is.

"Shauna, what is going on?" demands Four, still pushing against the door to no avail.

"She's not injured," she hisses back, trying to force him back.

"No one has seen her for three hours." Oh, so I guess I've been gone for a while. "Something is wrong."

Shauna turns her head back towards me and sees me watching her intently. What's she going to say? "Sorry our prude freak of an initiate went catatonic over an unwanted grope from her classmate. Yes, I know she's overreacting, but what do you want me to do about it."

"Move," she demands. To my surprise, he steps back, and she follows him out, shutting the door behind her.

"Can I drop you towel now, Tris?" Christina asks politely. I shrug – the most response I've been able to muster so far. She releases the towel and bends down to my feet with a pair of plain cotton panties in her hand. I support myself on her shoulder while I lift each leg to slide them on.

She follows up with my pants, and as she's helping slide them up my legs, she starts talking.

"I didn't know you were from Abnegation, Tris." Her voice is light; I cannot detect any judgement. "You are certainly don't act like you came from Abnegation." She's pulling my arms through my bra now. "We've all kind of wondered where you came from. You're a mystery. If it wasn't for the fact that you were in the transfer class, we would have all sworn you were Dauntless born."

She stops talking then and finishes dressing me in peace. I'm willing myself to break out of this daze and do things on my own instead of someone else dressing me like a child.

When all that remains are my shoes, I hear more commotion from outside. She's bending down to put my shoes on, but I stop her. She looks up in surprise and steps back.

My voice is scratchy when I finally speak, but I manage to get out a quick, "Thank you, Christina" as I pick up my shoes.

When I pull the door open, Shauna stumbles into the room and quietness falls over us all. Any other day, I would laugh about the scene in front of me, but I'm barely forcing myself to move on my own, let alone speak or show emotion.

Uriah and his older brother are standing with their backs to me, each of them pushing against Four. Eric is leaning against the other side of the wall, watching the entire thing with amusement. When his eyes meet mine, I see the concern, but I don't linger long enough to care. Will and Al are standing off to the side; they both look like they have no idea what to do or what to think.

We're all frozen for a moment. I try not to make eye contact with them, because I remember Four. The alarm in his eyes when he pulled me back from Peter; the panic in his voice.

I don't know about anyone else, but Four is clearly disturbed by my actions. I had been feeling pretty good about what I did until that realization hits me, and I drop my head to look at the floor as I walk out into the hallway.

Shauna scurries to her feet. "Tris, I think you should let me take you to the infirmary. I just want to make sure you don't have a concussion."

I would roll my eyes, but honestly, even that action hurts.

"That's not necessary." My words are slow and sound odd to my ears. "I do have a concussion – I don't need an exam to tell me that."

Eric pushes himself off the walk and walks closer. Because clearly, we all need his input into the situation.

"If you do have a concussion, you absolutely need to go to the infirmary," he says, his voice strict. "You need to be under observation for at least the next 24 hours."

He reaches his hand out, I assume to grab my arm, and simultaneously, Shauna shouts "Don't!" at him, and I flinch backward violently into Shauna.

"Sorry," I mutter. "Sorry, I'm fine. I just need to go."

I push my way through the crowd of people and walk until I can't remember where I am or how I got here.

Okay, so my writing has already gotten past initiation day. I'm torn on this next part, so I'm asking for your feedback.

I want more time between initiation day and the attack on Abnegation, but I can't figure out how much. I'm toying with a couple things.
- Short - I'd have a few more things I would need to squeeze in, but a short time would explain why there's a lot that Tris and Four haven't told each other
- Medium - Time for more relationship development; FourTris among other relationships that need explaining
- Long - I'm strongly considering having the Tris and Four train the next batch of initiates trope, but that would mean it would be at least a year

If I go medium or long, there would have to be time lapses so that it's not 50 chapters of filler. But I'm looking forward to everyone's feedback!