Character/Pairing: Eric × female!Reader
TW: mentions of sparrings, coldness in undefined relationship, timeskips, past and present intertwining
Summary: Tris Prior got curious about woman who follows one of the leaders of the faction. Four spills some light on the story of these two.
Author's note: all of the sudden I was reminded of how I loved these books and films years ago. Hope you'll enjoy that text
As a newcomer to the faction, Tris had to memorize countless details every day. While she trained with the other kids going through the first stage of selection just like her, she felt as if she were learning to live all over again.
Of course, the transition from Abnegation to Dauntless is a massive change. In every way. From clothing style to mindset.
Her muscles ache every day, her knuckles bleed from the hours she spends near the punching bag, her fingers ache from the triggers of guns, her thighs ache from all the running, and her head feels like it’s swelling from the inside because of all the new information.
The food here has a richer flavor. You can look at your own reflection every morning while washing your face. Some newbies quietly cry into their pillows at night, and no one talks about it. The clothes are black and dark gray. Tattoos, piercings, and colorful hair are the normal thing.
You can only see the sun when they go out for a run or shoot on the roof. Most of their training takes place in the main building, but it’s still not sunny in there. The only light comes from the headlamps.
The people here are completely different. The Dauntless, born into the faction, strike her as loud. Those who chose this faction—Transitioners like her—are also unique, but you can still see traces of the other factions in them.
There are three leaders here. Max, with a stern but practically indifferent face. Thorn, whom Tris first met in the simulation room before the Choosing Ceremony. And Eric. Eric, an ice mountain of muscle with a bunch of visible tattoos, facial piercings, and a personal shadow in human form.
Four continued to tell Tris various facts about the faction from time to time, and the girl always wanted to know more. But lately, Eric’s 'shadow' had been the subject of her thoughts more often than not.
When she finally dared to voice the question, Four didn’t refuse to answer it.
"She’s only a year younger than me and Eric." Tris nodded, taking in the first bit of information Four was giving her over the noisy lunch. But still in a whisper. The girl immediately remembered that Four and Eric had been initiates in the same year. Seven years ago. Almost eight. "Back then, he wasn’t… like that yet." the man pursed his lips. "It’s a long story."
───── Six years ago ─────
The thud of fists striking the heavy boxing bag echoed through the empty training hall. You repeated the combination over and over, trying to feel how every muscle in your body was working and where you needed to focus more on power and where to add speed.
If you want to be a part of the Dauntless, you need to try to be better. Much better.
Another exhale, another punch.
"Not bad," comes a voice from the side, one you’d almost forgotten.
You freeze mid-punch. You turns her head, blowing a strand of hair off your forehead.
You remember that face. You remember those cheekbones. Those gray eyes. But not the mountain of muscles and the tattoos on his neck. How many tattoos has he gotten over the past year?
"Get in the ring," the guy says calmly, taking off his jacket and leaving it on one of the benches.
You sighed and obediently walked toward the ring. You don’t know why you listen to him. Maybe because of some stupid memories from your early teens? Who knows. You’d spent a year without seeing his face at home, in the Erudite faction. Why should he matter to you now?
"Show me what you’ve got." A familiar smirk lights up his face. The jerk. That smug turkey.
Both take their starting positions. They circle each other. And in an instant, you attack. A quick punch to the stomach.
His fist flies toward you, but you manage to dodge it. They exchange blows, sweeps, gasps, and hisses as they fall to the floor. Exchange them just like facts from books when they were younger and spent half the day in their old faction’s library.
"That’s better." Eric rubs your shoulder as they step out of the ring. "But you still need to work on your core mobility."
"I know." you grumble, rubbing your thigh. "And anyway, I don’t get why you keep doing this." you exhale slowly and stop next to the bench where his outerwear is. "Isn’t that against the rules? You’ve been a member of this faction for ages; I’m still just in the initiation phase."
"It’s our secret," he shrugged vaguely.
You were almost ready to sweep his legs out from under him and pin him to the floor, demanding answers. But that tactic won’t work.
The days passed one after another. They turned into weeks. At least once every four days, Eric dragged you into the ring. Mostly at night. During the day, you two only exchanged glances when you went upstairs with the others or in the common dining hall during meals. You soon noticed him chatting with the faction leader—Max—more and more often. That’s interesting.
You continued to climb the initiates’ ranking chart. Your shooting became more precise, and your understanding of the mechanics grew. You were more confidently able to spot the fighting patterns in the ring among the other guys you fought. You learned to dodge in time and focus your strength on the right points of body before striking.
But when the second stage began, things got more complicated. And the day you found out that Eric had officially taken position of faction leader became the turning point that shaped your future, even though you had no idea of it at the time. You had heard that both he and a guy nicknamed Four had been offered leadership positions last year, after they’d gone through their own initiation. But Four had refused, while Eric had accepted. Now, however, he’d been officially announced. Maybe this past year had been a probationary period or something like that.
However, that question wasn’t your top priority. The focus had moved on to the second stage theme: Fear. Here, they work to eradicate fear from a person in any form. Even the slightest fear is a flaw. For the Dauntless faction, this is very important.
If you fail the test, if you freeze up, if you don’t overcome yourself, if you’re too slow in solving this problem, your rank drops and then you’re kicked out. None of the newbies want that.
Going through the simulations was strange. After the serum is injected, you’re instantly plunged into another world. And your mind presents you with all kinds of fears. The kind you might not even have suspected. Insects. A cliff overlooking the ocean. Nighttime, or the ruins of a city at night. Silence. A long corridor, at the end of which is a person you care about, screaming or moaning. A thunderstorm in a field.
So many different scenarios.
The serum works flawlessly on the brain. Everything feels too real. And everything is tracked through the system. One monitor shows everything clearly, as if the observer is seeing everything through your eyes, while another monitor displays your vital signs.
This stage was more exhausting than physical training. There were no muscles to control here—none you could feel and use to tell where you were slacking off. It was just you, your mind, and its depths.
Somehow, you managed to get through those weeks. A couple of days before the final test, you ran into Eric in the hallway. He looked even more confident, more... important. And cold. But you could tell he was amused when you flinched at the sharp grip on your elbow.
"Scared?" not a single muscle twitched. Not a corner of his lips moved. Only his eyebrows lifted in a hint of mockery.
"No." you shook your head. "What would I be afraid of?"
Eric leaned in sharply toward you. With his free hand, he cupped your’s chin. The eye contact sent shivers down your spine. Your's jaw tightened. Eric tilted his head slightly to the side, studying you.
"Me," he breathed somewhere near your cheek before letting go and continuing down the hallway. "Sweet dreams, DeeDee."
It caused a knot to form somewhere in the pit of your stomach. Not the kind of knot that makes you want to snuggle up to him like a cat. But the kind that makes you feel as if, if he looks at you one more time, you’ll sink into the ground. DeeDee, just like at home.
On the day of the final test, you woke up feeling not the best. Not bad, but not good either. Standing against the wall in the hallway, it was hard just to wait. You could practically feel the nervousness in the air. Everyone was worried about how they would perform in front of the leaders who will watching the simulation.
───── Couple of hours later ─────
"I have a proposal for you."
You looked at him, a look of surprise on your face. He’d barely spoken to you for weeks, but now...
You looked down from the balcony where he’d called you. Down below, the party celebrating the end of the initiation process was in full swing. The Dauntless had accepted the new recruits into their ranks. And you were one of them. You had come in third on the list. A pretty good result.
"So what do you want?" you looked at him again, but now out of the corner of your eye. Without turning your head toward him.
"You." he steps closer. Almost shoulder to shoulder. "As my assistant. I need a helper."
It almost makes you laugh. Is he serious right now?
"And what will I be doing?" you exhale, almost calmly.
The warmth radiating from his body contrasted with his cold gray eyes and indifferent expression. It’s impossible to predict much when it comes to a man like Eric.
"Whatever I say. Anything." you finally straighten up and turn your whole body toward him. "You’ll be my assistant. My right-hand woman," he says vaguely. How Eric hates your ability to dig deep and see right through him. He can’t stand it when people meddle in his plans.
"You don’t need an assistant." you lower lip slipped beneath upper teeth and slipped back out a second later. "If you did, you would have found one the moment you were named leader."
"Maybe I was waiting for the one particular initiate to join the faction." his fingers cupped your chin in a split second.
"Why?" you sighed, clearly surprised.
"I saw potential in you," Eric smirked. "Quick-witted. Stubborn. Growing in strength. You don’t break under the weight of fear. Do you know how many initiates from other factions were on the verge of losing their minds during the second stage?" his face now was very close to yours. And then, his voice rang out right by your ear. "More than you think. And it seemed like you didn’t care going through it"
You did care. But you understood that showing it would cause you to drop in the rankings. That couldn’t be allowed to happen. But you wouldn’t admit it. Certainly not now.
"I see." you gritted your teeth.
This is a great opportunity. To collaborate with the faction leader right after initiation. It’s worth a lot. It would be worth accepting the offer.
"Are we picking the weak ones?" Eric asks Four with a hint of sarcasm, earning a reproachful look from his 'shadow'.
He just shrugs, that devilish smirk still on his face.
You stood beside Eric, barely holding back the urge to roll your eyes. This rivalry between Four and him was just childish nonsense. So many years had passed. Of course, there had been times when you’d argued with him about it, but was it even possible to convince Eric of anything? No. Until he decided that was exactly how it was, no one could prove him wrong.
You shift your gaze to the girl who prompted Eric’s comment. Tris. Formerly Beatrice Prior. An initiate from the Abnegation, just like Four once was. Girl that Eric made a decision to kick out. Just before they got on the train for the game. Over these weeks of training, the girl has gained a little muscle mass, perked up, but is clearly sleeping less.
"And you, of course, are with me," Eric says, bringing you back to reality by nudging your thigh with the end of the barrel.
"No one doubted that," Four sighs, adjusting the mechanism on his rifle.
After dividing the newbies into teams, they began explaining the rules of the game and how the weapons work. It’s not just a paintball gun. It has built-in vials that, upon hitting a target, release a liquid that sends specific signals to the brain, causing the person to react as if they’d been shot for real. Someone actually had to come up with that.
Sighing, following Eric’s order, you went with him and the team to the train door. We’d be getting off soon. And the game would begin. The goal was to capture the enemy’s flag. All around was darkness and abandoned buildings that had once been a residential area near the amusement park.
Thanks for reading that. Comments will be appreciated