Home Is Where The Heart Is | Negan Smith

Home Is Where The Heart Is | Negan Smith

check the other parts here!

Summary:

There is no longer a home, no place of comfort in that world. One survives to live, risking life to move forward and protect one's people.

But there are always two sides of the same coin. So, is the villain truly the villain? Or is He just the villain in your story?

Pairing: Negan Smith x reader

Word Count: 1.5k

august 25, 2010

Delilah's eighteenth birthday was a tragic one. She spent it in a hospital room, watching her father connected to life-support machines. Carl stayed by the bedside, holding his father's hand, his sobs muffled in the blankets, while their mother stood just outside the door, speaking animatedly with a doctor. Shane tried to calm her, gently placing a hand on her arm.

Delilah felt suffocated in that hospital room. She curled up in a chair in the corner, hoping her father would wake up, but everyone knew, except Carl, that this wouldn't happen. At least, not now.

Carl's sobs grew louder, echoing in the empty room. Delilah had to fight back her own tears at the sight of her little brother in such distress. His desperation was palpable, especially when he offered to donate his blood to help their father.

She rose from the chair and went to Carl, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. He immediately sought refuge in her embrace, letting go of their father's hand and clinging to her with all his strength, tears soaking her shirt.

"Will he wake up?" he whispered. Delilah stroked his hair, trying to soothe him.

"I don't know," she replied. His sobs grew louder at this, and she felt a pang of guilt for not fully comforting him, but she didn't want to lie. She understood how these things worked, she knew what her father's job entailed, and unfortunately, their mother had prepared her over the years for such a possibility.

But Carl was young; he couldn't grasp what was happening, not yet. "Everything will be okay, Carl. I promise," she whispered like a mantra, holding him close until his cries began to soften.

The door to the room opened, and their mother entered with Shane, both looking devastated. Delilah knew what this meant. The doctor had no good news, and that could only mean one thing: Rick Grimes had very little chance of survival.

"Let's go home, kids," Lori whispered, her gaze never leaving her husband. "Let's give Dad some time to recover." Her voice was barely audible, but they got up anyway, Carl still in his sister's arms as they left the room in silence, followed by Shane.

"I'll take you home," Shane offered. "Go get some rest, and we'll wait for news from the hospital. Don't hesitate to call me for anything; it's what Rick would want."

"Thank you, Shane," Lori replied, accepting the comforting embrace he offered. It made Delilah shiver, and she held Carl even tighter. There was something wrong, something she had never seen before in Shane's eyes, and it was something she wished had remained hidden.

“How's your dad?”

“I don't know. He's in the hospital, and from what I understand, there isn't much good news. I just hope he gets better soon,” Delilah replied over the phone, pacing back and forth in her room. “It was a really shitty birthday present.”

Camilla chuckled on the other end. “I can imagine, but things will get better. I wanted to drop by to see you all, bring something for you and Carl, and even Lori, but my mom won't let me leave because of some weird news on TV.”

“Yeah, I heard something about that. It's probably another hoax. Tumblr is full of them lately. People losing their minds and doing stupid stuff. Did you see that post?”

“Which one?”

“Liza reblogged it. Apparently, cannibalism is making a comeback,” Delilah joked, unaffected by the macabre video circulating online. “It's probably fake, almost certainly, but it's one of the weirdest trends in the past few weeks.”

“Ew!” exclaimed Camilla. “And you watched it? You're crazy; I don't know how you don't throw up at that stuff.”

Delilah shrugged, taking a bite of the apple in her hand. “It's fake anyway. I doubt a group of lunatics would go around America eating people without getting caught. And the person filming it is way too calm.”

“You're weird, girl, let me tell you,” Camilla sighed on the other end. “Ugh, I have to go. My mom is freaking out over this news and wants to go back to Mexico to stay with relatives. She seriously sounds like a crazy woman!”

Delilah laughed. “Alright, see you tonight?”

“I don't think so, especially if my mom keeps this up. Talk to you tomorrow, girl!”

When she finished the apple, she tossed it out the window into the neighbor's garden, unconcerned about the complaints she would hear the next day. Her curiosity was piqued by her mother’s worried voice coming from the kitchen, apparently talking on the phone.

She left her room, peeked into Carl’s and quietly closed the door, seeing him asleep on the bed with one of their father's hoodies as a blanket. The sight made her heart ache; seeing her little brother in such a state broke her heart.

"Is everything okay?" she asked her mother as she came down the stairs, entering the kitchen where Lori was barricading the windows with blankets, blocking out the light. "What are you doing?"

Lori turned, surprised by the intrusion. Her face was full of worry. "Help me," she ordered, tossing Delilah some blankets and heading to the living room.

Delilah started to panic, confused by Lori's strange behavior. "Mom, what’s going on?" she asked, raising her voice, but Lori didn’t answer her directly.

"You're not going out tonight."

"What?! Why?" Delilah exclaimed, dropping the blankets. "You can't do this to me, it’s been planned for weeks! Mom?" She felt her anger rising, irritated by her mother's behavior.

She watched Lori move frantically around the house. "No one is leaving. Now help me until Shane gets here," Lori said, turning to look at her, and Delilah was shocked to see the pure terror on her mother’s face. Her anger turned into sheer fear.

"Mom?" she called. "Mom, what’s happening?"

Lori stopped, running her hands through her hair. "I don’t know, honey, I don’t know. Shane called from the hospital saying something’s happening, people are losing their minds, biting other patients. It's chaos in there, just like in the city. Everyone’s trying to leave."

"Leave from what?" Delilah asked, confused.

"I don’t know, something they mentioned on TV. But now help me and wake Carl up, we need to get ready to go," Lori resumed covering the windows. Heart pounding, Delilah went to wake Carl.

Delilah watched the landscape outside the window. The sky had grown dark, and they had been driving for hours, not knowing exactly where they were headed. She had heard Shane mention a refuge in downtown Atlanta, and the initial plan was to reach it as soon as possible. However, it seemed the entire city had the same idea, as they quickly found themselves stuck in traffic, an endless line of cars ahead of them.

“Wait here,” Lori said to the two kids as she got out of the car, followed by Shane, who went to talk to other people who had also stepped out of their vehicles, realizing they wouldn't be able to get out of this traffic jam anytime soon.

Delilah watched Carl looking around, alert. “Where did they go?”

“I don’t know,” she replied, leaning her head against the window. “They’ll be back soon, don’t worry.”

Carl turned to her. “How can you be so calm?”

“I’m tired,” she answered simply, closing her eyes to block out the external noises: people shouting, arguing, and especially the car horns blaring. “If you sleep, time passes faster.”

“I’m not sleepy, I want Mom,” Carl said, shifting on the seat to look outside, searching for Lori. “They’re coming back!” he exclaimed when he saw Lori and Shane returning with some other people.

“See? I told you it’d be okay,” Delilah said, growing more exhausted with each passing minute. She soon fell asleep, succumbing to the embrace of Morpheus.

But her peace was short-lived. Loud noises jolted her awake, and she noticed the car was now empty. Panic set in as she frantically looked for Carl, hoping he hadn’t wandered off to explore. Relief washed over her when she saw him with a group of people, playing with a blonde girl.

Shane and Lori were near their car, looking up at the sky from where the noise originated. Delilah joined them, also looking up, trying to understand what they were watching.

Lori took her by the shoulders, hugging her. “It’s going to be okay,” she whispered in her ear, stroking her hair. “As long as we’re together, it’ll be okay.”

The noise grew louder, and planes flew overhead. It didn’t take them long to realize where they were headed. Delilah followed Shane, who entered the woods, moving in the direction the planes were flying, with Lori right behind them.

“What’s happening?” she tried to ask, but her voice was drowned out by the roar of more planes passing overhead.

They stopped when they emerged from the woods near the highway. Delilah brought her hands to her mouth, horrified by the sight before her. Atlanta was being bombed, and even from that distance, they could see the explosions, the city lighting up in flames.

The refuge was gone, just like the normalcy of their entire world.

Knowledge pt.6

check here the other parts!

Summary:

The story begins the same for everyone, on the day of the ceremony, one of the most important for all the kids who take part in it every year, and Michelle will not miss the opportunity to leave behind a faction that she did not feel belonged to her.

On her journey, however, she will encounter someone who will make her initiation feel like hell.

Pairing: Eric Coulter x reader

Word count: 3.4k

Throughout the entire day, Michelle kept to herself, observing her peers one after another engage in combat on the mat. Sunny attempted to stay with her for a while, noticing her seeming shaken as she stared blankly ahead.

She appeared to be in a trance, as if she were inside a bubble isolating her from everyone else.

When six o'clock rolled around, they were dismissed, and Michelle wasted no time in getting up to leave the room, not waiting for anyone. However, a hand on her bicep stopped her. She glanced at the hand that halted her movement and then lifted her gaze, coming face to face with Eric.

"Good job today," he said, his expression devoid of emotion.

She looked at him for a moment before nodding and walking away, freeing herself from his grip.

Eric wasn't pleased with what he had been ordered to do, to go easy on her and keep an eye on her, but after that training session, his curiosity was piqued. He had thought she was weak, inadequate, and useless, but seeing her beat a fellow trainee until she passed out had stirred something within him.

He had seen the look in her eyes, devoid of emotion, her stoic face as she broke her opponent's nose. He liked this side of her.

He glanced at her one last time before turning back to the center of the gym, ready to start training on his own.

Meanwhile, Michelle headed straight to the dormitory, Sunny following behind her with Tina and Max catching up. She just wanted to hurry up, take a shower, and then rush to Tori's place to see if the stencil was ready.

"Hey, are you okay?" Sunny caught up, putting an arm around her shoulders.

She nodded, still staring ahead. She didn't know how to honestly answer her, she didn't even know herself how she felt at that moment; her knuckles tingled, bloody, and she had a strong headache from the blows she had taken.

"Sure?" Sunny insisted, pulling her closer, giving her a sideways hug. "I saw you a bit distant after the match."

The truth was she felt scared, losing control was something that had never happened to her before. When she heard Chloe surrender, she wanted to stop, but seeing her beneath her, bleeding, tears in her eyes, made her feel invincible.

Not even Eric's voice had stopped her with the first blow, too caught up in the euphoria of venting out everything she had endured among the Candor.

Sunny let her go, seeing how she didn't even respond to one-word answers, stopping Tina and Max who wanted to congratulate her. She needed time alone, and she was grateful for Sunny who understood that.

She entered the dormitory and took a seat on her bed, resting her elbows on her knees and burying her head in her hands.

"What am I doing?" she whispered to herself, reliving the images from a few hours earlier.

She retrieved from under the pillow the photo of her and Anne, now slightly crumpled from always having to hide it in inconspicuous places; she missed her, a lot, and she wondered what Anne would have thought if she had seen her in that situation.

She would probably have hated her, but she wouldn't have been able to leave her.

A drop fell onto the photo, and Michelle sniffled, wiping away her tears with the sleeve of her hoodie, trying to stop the tears that kept flowing one after another.

She hid the photo and headed to the showers, trying to avoid the gaze of the few initiates present in the dormitory, and got under the water as quickly as possible. It was there that she let go, crying silently and covering her mouth with her hands to muffle the sobs.

She couldn't be weak, she shouldn't be, yet she couldn't stop crying.

She spent more time than necessary under the now cold shower water, the stinging of her bruised knuckles had disappeared, and they had stopped bleeding. She realized that most of the blood on her hands wasn't hers but Chloe's.

She joined Sunny in the cafeteria, taking a seat beside her and Four, who were discussing their plans for the next day.

"...shooting range," Four was saying, but she ignored them, leaving them to their conversation. She wasn't in the mood to socialize, so she grabbed some food and remained in complete silence, hardly making any noise.

She glimpsed Max across from her getting fidgety, speaking in hushed tones with the girl next to him, Tina. Michelle rolled her eyes.

"Really good fight earlier," Max suddenly said, smiling at Michelle when she looked at him. "Awesome," he added with a thumbs-up.

"Yeah, it was so cool!" Tina exclaimed, and Michelle had to refrain from throwing her plate at her to wipe that amused expression off her face.

She watched them in silence, a monotone expression before finishing her meal and getting up. "Hey, no, don't-"

"Tina, stop!" Sunny interjected as her friend left, exiting the cafeteria after barely ten minutes.

"No, I wasn't making fun of her. It was really a good fight," Bowie, the tall guy, rolled his eyes at Tina voice.

"Oh, someone who gets it."

"But why would she react like this? She won!" Max exclaimed, confused.

Four let the forks fall onto his plate, drawing the attention of the table. He looked down before raising his gaze back to the initiates, a sarcastic expression. "She lost control."

"And so?" Max continued.

"And so, if she hadn't stopped, she could have killed her," Four replied, standing up. "Chloe won't be at training tomorrow; she's in the infirmary under observation."

Michelle made her way through the cold and dark corridors with the sole intention of reaching the tattoo shop, knowing that either Tori or Tyson would be there instead of in the cafeteria. She arrived at the brightly lit storefront and was fortunate not to encounter many people during her brief journey.

Entering, she noticed movement inside, and Tyson emerged from behind the counter, his stern expression replaced by a smile as he saw the girl approaching him.

"Michelle, I was hoping you'd stop by tonight," he said, straightening up the counter before moving towards one of the stations. Michelle followed him in silence.

She was tired.

"Tori gave me the stencil, what do you think?" Tyson showed her a sheet with his design on it, only enlarged and with some added details that she really liked. It was her design, just improved.

"I like it," she simply said.

"Do you want to do it tonight?" he began cleaning the station, expecting a yes. "I'm not sure how long it'll take; we've been provided with some new technologies to speed up the process. But it will hurt."

Tyson looked at her, warning her. He wasn't a big fan of the new machines; it felt like they took away his manual skill, but for a tattoo of that size, maybe it was more appropriate.

"That's okay," she wanted to finish it as soon as possible.

He motioned for her to lie face down on the table, and Michelle complied, taking off her hoodie and bra. The table's skin was cold against hers, giving her goosebumps.

"I'll apply the stencil," Tyson wasn't one to talk much, and Michelle was immensely grateful for it, managing to enjoy a couple of hours in silence.

At that hour, few Dauntless came into the shop, many busy resting or partying somewhere else.

She had to admit it was painful, not as much as she imagined, but she still had to hold back from releasing a groan more than once as Tyson passed over a sensitive area on her back.

Tyson followed her closely, his calloused fingers occasionally touching her to ensure the design was in place.

"We should be done," he said, approaching her and sitting on the stool beside her.

Suppressing a satisfied smile, he looked at the enormous tattoo etched on her skin. It had turned out better than he had imagined. He gave Michelle's shoulder a pat to signal her to get up.

"Look in the mirror."

Michelle rose from the table, holding her unfastened bra to her chest to see the tattoo in all its beauty. It was stunning; she stood there with her mouth agape, admiring the long stretches of black ink on her skin.

She was slightly flushed, but other than that, she was unfazed. "It's stunning," she whispered, continuing to gaze at herself in the mirror.

Tyson approached from behind, noticing his reflection in the mirror. He smiled at her. "I'm glad. You have talent, you know? You could come work here after initiation. You have your own style, and I think people here would appreciate it."

Michelle smiled to herself, blushing slightly at the compliment. She went to fasten her bra, but her shoulders were sore, stiffened after two hours in the same position.

"Can I?" Tyson whispered, and Michelle, uncertain, turned around, letting him fasten her bra.

"Thank you," Michelle returned to the station to put on her hoodie and then went to pay, but he stopped her.

"Consider it a gift and an extra reason to get through initiation. It would be a waste of such a tattoo among the factionless," he chuckled, refusing the payment.

Michelle looked at him, slightly confused by the gesture, but she smiled and nodded at him, bidding him farewell.

The corridors were cold as Michelle left the tattoo shop, not that it was anything new, but the noise coming from the Pit compensated for the coldness of that place. She leaned out, trying not to stumble, and saw a large group of Dauntless scattered all over the Pit.

Shouts, laughter, and songs echoed throughout the place. How could she not have heard them?

Michelle spotted some of her peers but decided to ignore them. She wasn't in the mood to celebrate, and to be honest, she never was. She wasn't a fan of parties.

She preferred silence, the ability to be alone with her thoughts. Her mind, already chaotic, didn't need further external distractions like blasting music, sweaty people, and drunkards constantly bumping into her.

It just wasn't her scene.

When she returned to the dormitory, she found only Bowie, the guy who had sat with them at dinner but whom she had never spoken to before. He was lounging on his bed, a book in hand.

She ignored him, taking a seat on her own bed instead, trying to get some sleep. However, it didn't take long for her to realize that sleeping on her back wouldn't be possible that night.

She turned on her mattress, as hard as concrete, before the boy's voice spoke to her. "Aren't you going to celebrate?"

It was monotone, tired.

"No," she replied.

Bowie lowered the book and observed her for a moment, intrigued by the girl who moved through the faction like a ghost. She went unnoticed, didn't linger in crowded places, and certainly didn't talk much.

He would have bet everything he owned that probably only they knew of her existence.

"I understand," he simply said before returning to his book.

Michelle managed to close her eyes, isolating herself from the noise coming from the Pit, and eventually drifted off to sleep. She didn't hear her roommates come back, or Sunny bumping into her bed.

She was immersed in the world of dreams, enveloped in darkness.

Her heart was racing, she couldn't see anything, not even her hands when she brought them to her face, and she started to panic when she felt wetness on them, as if someone had poured something over them.

Then, above her, a faint light appeared, illuminating the room she was in, but she still couldn't see the walls of it.

She lowered her gaze, observing her hands covered in red. The metallic smell invaded her nostrils, and she had to fight back the urge to vomit when she saw the body at her feet.

When she realized she was the one responsible for this, she began to tremble; the body was covered in bruises and blood, the face so disfigured that she couldn't tell whose it was.

Her breath was shallow, her heart racing as she clenched her hands into fists, biting her lip to distract herself from the excruciating pain radiating from her knuckles.

"Ellie?" the girl froze upon hearing that sweet voice, unable to turn around to face her. "Ellie, is that you?"

Tears began to well up in her eyes. She couldn't run, she couldn't hide, and she didn't have the courage to turn around and look Anne in the eyes, covered in blood.

Wasn't bravery supposed to be a defining trait of the Dauntless? To fear nothing?

Yet in that moment, she felt like a coward. She was scared, no, she was terrified of how her best friend might react.

But she turned anyway, very slowly, and when she raised her gaze to meet Anne's eyes, she saw her in tears, her face terrified. Michelle fell to her knees, unable to stand from shaking so violently.

"What have you done?" Anne whispered, keeping her distance.

"Anne-"

"What have you done to me, Ellie?" Michelle stopped crying at that moment, confused.

"What?" she asked, but Anne began to cry louder.

"Why? Why did you do this to me?" It was almost impossible to understand what she was saying, and Michelle turned to look at where Anne was pointing.

When she turned to look at the body, she screamed, falling to the ground, moving as far away from it as possible. She couldn't breathe, and tears began to stream down her face.

"No, no, no," she whispered to herself, pulling her knees to her chest and closing her eyes to try to rid herself of that image.

It wasn't real, it was just a bad dream, but she couldn't wake up. Why couldn't she wake up?

"Look what you've done," Anne whispered in her ear, crying. "Look at me."

Something pulled her hair, forcing her to look at the body a few meters away from her. Michelle struggled to see what was in front of her, her eyes blurred with tears, but her red hair was unmistakable.

"I'm sorry," she managed to say between sobs. She felt her heart shattered, as if someone had taken it and torn it from her chest.

Michelle jerked up from her bed, falling to the floor. She couldn't breathe, feeling her heart pounding out of her chest. She got up and ran to the bathroom.

She turned on the faucet and began to scrub her hands under the water forcefully, ignoring the sharp pain caused by the wounds that were reopening. She tried to stay quiet, suppressing the sobs and moans that escaped her mouth every time she thought of Anne's unrecognizable body.

"It wasn't real, it wasn't real, it wasn't real..." she kept whispering like a broken record. She had to convince herself it wasn't real, just a bad dream. But then why did it feel so vivid?

She could have sworn she remembered the warm blood still on her hands. Anne's blood. "No..." she whimpered at the thought and decided to leave the dormitory, unable to stay silent for much longer.

She didn't even bother to put on a pair of shoes or pants other than her pajama shorts. She ran through the corridors, ignoring the pain caused by the uneven floor under her feet.

Nothing could compare to the pain her heart felt at that moment.

She didn't think about where to go, but her feet led her to the chasm. She stopped to observe it, not understanding why she had ended up there, but she decided to stay, sitting on the metal walkway overlooking the rushing water.

It would take just a small push to end her life; someone could come up behind her and give her a gentle nudge to make her fall. Yet she didn't care.

She pulled her knees to her chest and resumed crying, ignoring the cold that the current brought with it; she had goosebumps.

Her sobs were barely audible over the crashing water against the rocks. She felt powerless in that moment, a feeling entirely different from the one she had felt that morning when she had felt invincible, with Chloe's life in her hands.

Maybe this wasn't the place for her. Maybe she was right to think she wouldn't make it through initiation.

Maybe Eric was right.

Michelle, however, was unaware that she was being watched by the latter. Eric observed her through the cameras in the control room, with Four seated in front of him.

"Is she planning to jump?" Eric asked, raising an eyebrow. He had to admit he was confused to see her so broken when just a few hours earlier he had seen her stronger than ever.

"I don't think so," Four replied, rising from his seat.

Eric watched him leave. "Where are you going?"

Eric's colleague stopped and turned to look at him, wearing a serious expression. "I'm going to make sure she doesn't seriously jump."

Eric scoffed. "Too bad for her. We can't babysit initiates who can't handle everything, Four. We can't have weak links in here."

Four looked at him and chuckled, incredulous and annoyed. "Not everyone is a sociopath like you, Eric. Michelle lost control with Chloe, you saw it yourself, she wasn't herself! What did you expect her reaction to be?"

He resumed walking towards the cliff to find Michelle, hoping her plans weren't really to jump. It would be a shame, especially because Jeanine Matthews would be furious with them.

Michelle was important to their leader, but they didn't yet know why.

Four walked through the cold and dark corridors in silence, contemplating what to do once he reached the girl. The most important thing was to get her away from the cliff to avoid the greater danger, then he would have to figure out a way to calm her down.

He was surprised not to find her in the gym that night, which is why he decided to go to the control room to try to find her, to make sure everything was okay. It wouldn't be the first time another initiate had attacked someone potentially better than them.

When he arrived at the cliff, he stopped; the girl no longer seemed to be crying, instead, she was gazing into the void below her. A few drops of water had landed on her legs, making her even colder, but she couldn't bring herself to care.

Michelle couldn't get that nightmare out of her head, now imprinted in her mind like a branding iron.

Ignoring the footsteps approaching, Michelle recognized the figure of Four, and certainly he wouldn't be the one to push her off. He took a seat beside her, letting his legs dangle from the walkway, but he didn't say anything.

He watched her, the typically apathetic and stoic expression he often saw on her was no longer present; her eyes were red and swollen, still watery, and furrowed brows betrayed her torment. He didn't know her well, only a couple of weeks, yet he would have sworn he couldn't see the day she would fall apart. Now, next to her, Michelle had started to crack.

"This isn't a good place to be alone," he said softly, not wanting to disturb her too much, but now his main mission was to get her away from the walkway.

Michelle didn't respond.

Four sighed and stood up, offering her a hand that she didn't even look at. "Michelle, I don't have time to waste," he said, annoyed.

Her silence was agonizing normally, but in that moment it was a hundred times worse. How could he help her get back on her feet if she didn't tell him what was troubling her?

He looked around for a strategy to get her to stand up, then he looked at her, narrowing his eyes as he saw black lines peeking out from under her hoodie. A tattoo couldn't have caused such a reaction.

So what was it?

"Please..." he whispered, rubbing his eyes, tired from the long day. He wanted to go to sleep, to lie down in his bed and finally relax his muscles, but now Michelle was a priority, she and her safety.

At his plea, she stood up, avoiding his gaze out of shame. She felt her cheeks burning since he arrived, embarrassed to have been found in such a state. At least she didn't cry in front of him.

They walked in silence through the faction's corridors, ignoring the tense atmosphere that had developed between them. Michelle slouched, ignoring the occasional glances her instructor threw her way.

It didn't take them long to reach the dormitory doors, and Michelle tried to open the door, but Four stopped her, turning her towards him. His ocean-blue eyes scrutinized her, and Michelle got lost in them.

"Are you okay?" he asked her in a low voice, leaning closer to be heard. He didn't want to wake anyone inside the dormitory given the late hour.

Michelle looked at him carefully, sniffing uncertain of what to say or whether to respond. She just wanted to be left alone at that moment, to have some time to herself, and she was tired, damn if she was tired.

Yet the idea of going back to sleep made her feel nauseous, the images still fresh in her mind. She nodded slightly, but Four didn't believe her and was about to ask her another question when they were interrupted by a voice to their right.

"What do we have here?" Eric chirped, stepping a few paces closer to them, closely observing their proximity. Michelle immediately recoiled, feeling the judgmental gaze of the leader, anticipating a tasteless comment about to escape his mouth.

Four looked at him defiantly. "Nothing, and you know it," he replied through clenched teeth, irritated by his colleague's childish behavior. He was unbearable.

"Well, she certainly didn't seem fine," he said, looking at Four before turning his gaze to Michelle, observing her from head to toe. "You could have chosen better; it won't last long. Bad choice."

He chuckled, noticing Michelle lowering her gaze, offended by the offensive comment towards her. His words shouldn't have hurt so much, yet she found herself holding back tears once again that evening.

She turned on her heels and entered the dormitory, not wanting to endure Eric's presence for more than a second. Eric was like acid in a certain way, attractive and toxic at the same time.

Something you wanted to study thoroughly to understand why it was so toxic, corrosive, yet Michelle knew it would be a terrible idea. But she wasn't stupid; she felt the way his touch on her skin set her on fire and his comments struck closer to her heart than they should have.

The two boys watched the initiate enter the dormitory, cautiously closing the door behind her without saying a word; not that it was anything new.

Eric turned to look at Four, arms crossed in front of his chest and one eyebrow raised, but his colleague ignored him, brushing past him and making sure to give him a shove.

The blonde watched him go, then shifted his attention to the dormitory door through which Michelle had just entered. Why was he so intrigued by her?

Perhaps it was the fact that Jaenine was equally interested in her, sparking a deep curiosity in him, or maybe it was the fact that he knew nothing about her. He didn't see her around much, she spent little time with her peers, and it seemed like Lauren adored her for some strange reason.

What was so special about Michelle?

Knowledge Prologue

check out my other works here!

Summary:

The story begins the same for everyone, on the day of the ceremony, one of the most important for all the kids who take part in it every year, and Michelle will not miss the opportunity to leave behind a faction that she did not feel belonged to her.

On her journey, however, she will encounter someone who will make her initiation feel like hell.

Pairing: Eric Coulter x reader

Word Count: 475

Warnings: REALLY slow burn, angst, ncn elements, charachte death, Eric being an asshole at the start, hurt/comfort

"Are you ready for tomorrow?"

"No, how could I be?"

"Come on, Ellie, it won't be the end of the world." A slender, red-haired girl with a face dotted with freckles smiled at her, attempting to reassure her, but to no avail, as she too was gripped by anxiety. "So, it's decided." her smile slwowly fading.

Ellie, gazing at the panorama before her, watched as the city below slowly faded with the onset of night. A gentle wind blew, and she tried to shield herself from its cold by wrapping herself in the white blazer draped over her shoulders.

She shrugged, her voice a sigh. "It was decided years ago, Anne..."

Anne looked at her, tears welling up in her eyes. The looming Aptitude Test would separate them, the friendship they had forged would break irreparably.

They could have lied, said everything would be fine, but in that moment, on the rooftop of the building where they had lived for sixteen years and shared countless memories, they realized it would be one of the last times they would see each other.

The redhead approached her friend, resting her head on her shoulder, seeking comfort. Ellie embraced her, allowing a few tears to escape, silently reliving all the moments they had shared together.

But in the end, they had always known. They had become inseparable for a reason, both excluded from the faction that was supposed to be their home, too different from all the other kids dressed in black and white like them, yet at the same time too different from each other to choose the same faction.

Anne was, she was good.

Ellie watched her as she tried to suppress her sobs, hiding within her arms. Her heart was made of gold, rare in its kind. Always ready to help others, hesitant to speak anything but the truth knowing it could hurt someone.

However, the Candor were not pleased with all this caring nature of hers. They were not pleased even with Ellie's silence, especially with her penchant for getting into trouble.

Her mother considered her a disgrace to their family. Ellie's antics tarnished the name her father had built through years of hard work before disappearing, presumably killed by the outcasts, those without a faction.

It wasn't a secret that her mother was more excited for Ellie's Aptitude Test day than Ellie herself. She didn't hide the fact that if Ellie left their faction, she would do everyone a favor.

"I'll miss you," Anne managed to say as she wiped away her tears, her eyes now red and slightly swollen.

Ellie smiled faintly but said nothing, returning her gaze to the landscape before them; the city was fully illuminated now that the sun had completely set, creating a breathtaking view.

"I should go, or they'll wonder where I am. Goodbye, Ellie."

"Goodbye, Anne."

Knowledge pt.3

check the other parts here!

Summary:

The story begins the same for everyone, on the day of the ceremony, one of the most important for all the kids who take part in it every year, and Michelle will not miss the opportunity to leave behind a faction that she did not feel belonged to her.

On her journey, however, she will encounter someone who will make her initiation feel like hell.

Pairing: Eric Coulter x reader

Wordk Count: 6.5k

That night, Michelle couldn't sleep, whether it was due to the snoring of several of her companions or simply because she hadn't yet fully realized where she was.

She chose a bunk bed with Sunny, taking the cot below, figuring that with her habit of sleeping little at night, it would be more comfortable and effective to be underneath.

The beds were uncomfortable, hard as rocks, and sleeping on the floor would probably have been more pleasant, but the other initiates, unlike her, were already deep in the world of dreams.

Michelle sat on the floor with her back against the edge of the bed, gazing ahead at the open showers and bathrooms, a small source of light emanating from there. It was the only light in the entire room.

If it hadn't been for the thin rays of light seeping through the cracks of the door, the room would have been completely engulfed in darkness. She could barely make out the shapes of the beds, let alone who was who.

She pulled out the photo of her and Anne from under the pillow, smiling as she looked at it. She had managed to sneak it into initiation with her, hiding it under the bed while they changed to take their belongings to be incinerated.

She didn't mind seeing her clothes burn; it was like tangible proof that her past no longer existed. Ellie Black was gone; she had been replaced by a better version of herself.

Michelle.

She promised herself to give her best, to push herself to the limit, and to prove to everyone that she was the best by coming out on top. It wouldn't be easy; she was practically starting from scratch unlike many others; she was agile, fast, but lacked the physical strength she would need for the first part of initiation.

She spent the entire night wandering around the dormitory, curious to see if it held any secrets; of course, she found nothing and remained seated at the foot of her bed contemplating her choice to join the Dauntless.

It was done now; she couldn't go back or she would become an outcast, and if there was one thing she would rather do than be cast out from the faction, it was certainly to die. She would throw herself off the cliff if necessary.

She didn't understand where this innate fear of hers was coming from; when she had stepped onto the platform just a few hours earlier, she had been struck by lightning, realizing that it was the right choice.

Her place was with the Dauntless; she just had to learn to live with it.

She took advantage of the fact that everyone was asleep to take a quick shower, which turned into a full-fledged session. She stayed under the water long enough to hear her first companions waking up.

As the water streamed down her body, Michelle scrubbed vigorously at the dirt she had accumulated throughout the day, from climbing onto the platform to jumping off a moving train. She wasn't dirty, just a bit dusty, but she felt weighed down by it, her only thought being to rid herself of that sensation.

She rubbed so many times at different parts of her body that they began to redden, tingling slightly. She ignored the faint burning sensation before getting dressed and putting on the clothes they had issued that evening. They could go pick out clothes of their choice the next day with the points they were given weekly.

Eric had explained to her how things worked in the faction; there was no money, only points, earned by working or, if participating in initiation, given weekly in small amounts for personal indulgences.

Unless one had a private kitchen, everyone ate in the mess hall, saving on food expenses. The rest, besides clothes, were things they could easily do without.

But there was one thing Michelle wanted to get, a sketchbook to start drawing again. In the short time she had spent in that faction, she had felt inspired for many new drawings; she was brimming with ideas; between the cliff, the Pit, and the various tattoos, she had plenty to work with.

"You're an early bird, huh?" chuckled Sunny, still half asleep with a towel in hand for a quick shower.

Michelle smiled at her disheveled hair, resembling a bird's nest in its disorder. "I didn't sleep."

Sunny stopped and looked at her, eyes wide open. "You're crazy. If you don't sleep, you won't have the strength for training."

Her concern made Michelle smile even more. She had a friend.

"I don't need much to feel rested," she replied, pulling her hair into a tight ponytail for the day; it would be the most efficient solution to keep her hair out of her face.

"Maybe not for you, but for your body," Sunny continued as she undressed, stepping into the warm water and sighing at the heat. "It's not good for your head either; you need to sleep a certain number of hours to be fully functional."

Michelle didn't respond, but someone else did in her place. When she heard the voice, she recognized it immediately, rolling her eyes and trying to brush her teeth as quickly as possible.

"There's no need to repeat it to her; she's always been like this. A stubborn head that doesn't understand a thing."

Chloe stepped up to the sink next to Michelle's, splashing water on her face and smiling at the girl beside her. "Isn't that right, Ellie?"

"Ellie? Who's Ellie?" Sunny's voice sounded muffled under the water stream, but both former Candors heard her clearly.

"Our dear Michelle. Her real name is Ellie, or rather, it was," Chloe's tone was sharp for no apparent reason; Michelle had no problem admitting that she had decided to leave her past behind.

"Michelle?" Sunny stepped out of the shower and didn't find her new friend, but instead the girl she had just been talking to and two other guys she remembered being from Michelle's old faction.

"Oh, get used to this," replied one of the guys, the one with a buzz cut.

She looked at him confused, not knowing what he was referring to.

"Ellie takes off, silently. Don't be surprised if she leaves you in the mess to save her own ass," said the other guy, slightly shorter than the first.

She didn't know how to respond honestly, watching them while clutching her towel to her chest, immediately feeling intimidated. The girl smiled at her before turning on her heels and heading back to the dormitory.

After all, it was only six in the morning.

While Sunny was left alone in the dormitory bathrooms, Michelle was exploring the Pit. It was empty, a stark contrast from when they had arrived the day before.

There were few people, just some Dauntless heading to work or simply going to sleep after a long night shift. It was cold, very cold, and Michelle blamed it on the fact that the structure was built into the stone, consequently isolating the warmth.

She wrapped herself in the black leather jacket provided to her; it wouldn't be the most comfortable for training, so she decided to wear a simple hoodie underneath.

Trying to remember where the mess hall was, she crossed the Pit and thankfully found it right in front of her. The day before, they had taken twice as long, having taken the opposite route to see the cliff; maybe it wasn't the labyrinth she had thought it was.

As she entered the mess hall, she was pleasantly surprised to see that it was almost entirely empty, only a few Dauntless were present. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Four, sitting at the same table they had dined at the previous evening.

She decided to sit at the same table as him, directly across. When she sat down, Four looked up and gave a slight smile. "Isn't it a bit early for you, initiate?"

Michelle looked at him, feeling bored from hearing the same thing twice in a short period of time. She ignored him and poured herself a strong cup of coffee, without adding any sugar or milk, receiving a disgusted glance from her instructor.

"What?" she asked, taking a sip from the cup, savoring the pure taste of coffee that filled her mouth.

"Nothing, I just don't know many people who like their coffee plain, and... that's it."

Michelle shrugged, grabbing a slice of toast for breakfast.

She looked around the mess hall to see who was there at that early hour and pleasantly noticed that there wasn't a soul around. Just then, she spotted Eric and Max sitting at a table in the center of the room; had they just arrived?

She narrowed her eyes observing the blond, he seemed bothered by something Max was saying. They spoke in hushed and suspicious tones, one of them calm, relaxed on the bench where he sat, while the other had a cold, furious expression as he listened to what his superior had to say.

"Ignore them, it's for your own good," Four tried to warn her, but Michelle didn't shift her gaze from the unusual pair, continuing to watch them closely, wishing she could read lips at that moment.

Max turned his head slightly and caught Michelle watching them out of the corner of his eye; he whispered something to Eric, who suddenly turned his head to look at the girl.

Michelle decided it might be best to stop staring and resumed her breakfast, trying to ignore the tension building in her body from being caught. Eric's gaze was sharp, cold. It was intimidating.

She tried her hardest not to turn around to see if they were still talking, but glancing at Four, she immediately understood that someone in particular was approaching. She expected to feel a presence sitting at their table any moment, but instead, two hands fell heavily on her shoulders.

"What do we have here?" Eric's voice was almost amused as he began to move his hands over Michelle's shoulders, who was confused and scared at the same time.

Scared not because she had been caught staring, but because it felt like he was giving her a massage. With his thumbs, he started to knead her shoulder blades, and she even found it strangely enjoyable until he found a spot on both sides and pressed down, causing her to straighten up with her back immediately.

Michelle cried out in pain, but Eric didn't seem to have any intention of letting her go.

"Eric, let her go. She hasn't done anything," Four stood up abruptly, attracting the attention of the few people in the mess hall, who began to watch the scene and whisper among themselves.

"I'm not talking to you, Four. Sit down," he glared at his peer, who reluctantly took his seat again. "So, what do we have here, huh? A nosy little initiate?"

Michelle remained silent, and Eric, not appreciating her silence, pressed even harder on her shoulder blades. Michelle gritted her teeth at the unpleasant sensation, not exactly painful, but very uncomfortable.

"If I ask you a question, you have to answer me, initiate," Eric lowered himself to her eye level and whispered into her ear. "Huh? Has someone cut out your tongue already?"

The mocking tone in Eric's voice annoyed her, and before speaking, she swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat, hoping her voice wouldn't tremble when she spoke. "Nothing."

It came out no more than a whisper, and Eric smiled, a rather unpleasant smile according to Michelle; it was the kind of chilling smile, sadistic.

"Nothing? Are you sure, because a moment ago you seemed very interested in our conversation," now he was whispering too, amused by the situation. Max had told him to let it go, that hers was just too much curiosity, nothing to punish a girl for.

But he saw the perfect opportunity to make her talk, whether she wanted to or not. He had seen her the previous evening, silently around people who talked too much, and his curiosity was evident.

Why wasn't she speaking?

Eric stopped pressing on her shoulders, but he didn't release his grip. He straightened up and gave her two pats on the back.

"Nothing, huh? See how you'll become nothing in no time," he said, walking away without saying goodbye.

Only then did Michelle realize the silence that had fallen over the entire mess hall, causing her to blush slightly and lower her head over her own cup. She resumed sipping her coffee under Four's watchful gaze.

She was afraid she wouldn't make it; Eric's words certainly didn't help. The initiation itself was already tough, she didn't need one of the faction leaders against her as well.

Four noticed the slight trembling of her hands despite her efforts to appear impassive; he sighed, continuing to watch her.

"Don't listen to him, you have a chance like everyone else," his voice was gentle, and Michelle looked at him, grateful for his attempt at reassurance.

But the fear of not making it, of becoming an outcast, had already solidified in her mind. She would have to give her best to succeed, to use all her non-physical skills to win because she knew she didn't have much strength.

"Everything okay? You both look like you've seen a ghost," Lauren, full of energy as usual, took a seat next to Michelle for breakfast. Her good mood waned slightly as she noticed that neither her colleague nor the new recruit had said anything yet.

"Michelle, I told you to be careful. It's not a joke," Four stood up from the table, visibly annoyed.

Lauren turned to Michelle to find out what had happened, curious about her friend's strange behavior, but she ignored her, continuing to drink her cup of coffee.

The rest of the faction didn't take long to wake up; by seven in the morning, the mess hall began to fill up, and Michelle decided it was time to head to the training quarters, even if it was an hour early.

She left Lauren with a nod, which she returned with a smile. As she passed through the doors of the mess hall, she encountered Sunny and other initiates heading to breakfast.

"Hey, where are you going?" Sunny stopped her, grabbing her forearm and pausing with her.

"I'm going to find the gym," she replied, waiting for Sunny to let her go.

"Oh, okay. See you later."

Michelle began to walk through the Pit, trying to figure out where the gym actually was; there were no signs or anything that could indicate where the facility might be.

The Pit had come back to life; children ran recklessly, risking bumping into Michelle at any moment, and several Dauntless headed to work, opening the shops that faced the Pit.

She had to give the impression of being lost because someone touched her shoulder, catching her off guard. She jumped back and heard a raspy laugh.

"Hey, easy there. Didn't mean to scare you!" It was the man Max had been talking to while they waited for all the initiates to jump off the roof.

"Everything okay? Are you lost?" Michelle observed him, getting lost in the intricate tattoos that covered almost all of his skin. The man must have noticed because he smiled and rolled up his sleeves. "Do you like tattoos?"

"Yes," she replied, continuing to admire the ink patterns on his arms, fascinated.

"Where's training happening?" she asked, still captivated by his tattoos.

"See that corridor?" The man pointed to a hallway at the far end of the Pit. "There are stairs, lots of stairs, that will take you straight to where you need to go."

"Thanks," she said, tearing her gaze away from his tattoos to head towards the corridor he'd indicated. But before she could leave, he stopped her. Michelle turned to him, puzzled.

"Feel free to drop by the tattoo shop anytime. Tori and I run it. You could get one yourself." Despite his distinctive appearance, filled with piercings and covered in tattoos from head to toe, he seemed like a genuinely kind person.

He spoke to Michelle with kindness, and there was everything but ill intent in his eyes.

Michelle nodded before leaving.

The hallways were as dark as any other, and she paled at the thought of the number of stairs she'd have to climb to reach the dormitories; stairs upon stairs.

During her journey, she encountered no one, making her feel as if she were in the wrong place. After about five minutes of nothing but stairs, she reached a long, empty, dimly lit corridor. From a distance, she saw iron doors and cautiously opened them.

She was relieved to see that she was in the right place. At that moment, she understood why it took her so long to get there, with all those stairs; it was the interior of an old factory, probably, a vast empty space set up with various machinery and objects for training.

In the center of the room were four mats that she guessed would be used for hand-to-hand combat, while a few meters away, several punching bags were hung from a beam.

On the other side of the room, in a corner, there were machines that she had already seen during one of her explorations in an old abandoned complex. It was a weightlifting area.

"You're early," Four's voice echoed through the empty room, and Michelle turned to try to figure out where he was.

Four was on a bench near the mats, holding a bottle. Michelle shrugged and approached, surveying the place with attentive eyes.

"You never talk?" Four asked curiously, watching her as she moved around the gym.

"I don't like to," Michelle simply replied, touching the punching bags to gauge their weight. When she saw that they didn't budge at her touch, she realized she'd likely end up hurting her knuckles.

"I figured as much. You'll be hot in that sweater during training," Four remarked.

Michelle shrugged again, ignoring him, and Four smiled, mimicking her. In doing so, he earned a glare from her, and to defend himself, he raised his hands in the air.

The door opened again with a loud noise, grabbing both of their attention. Four stood up when he noticed Eric entering with Lauren.

They were an odd pair, with Eric looking ready to kill someone and Lauren walking with all the tranquility in the world. When she saw the initiate, she smiled.

"Always early, I like that," she said as she passed by, giving Michelle a friendly punch on the arm.

However, Eric didn't seem pleased with that small interaction and decided to stay silent, with a bored expression on his face as he took a seat on one of the benches opposite to where Four had placed his belongings.

The latter began reviewing data on a tablet, while Lauren took a seat on the other side of the gym where an area similar to where they were now was set up.

Michelle stood with her hands in her pockets, watching Four tinkering with the tablet and occasionally glancing at the blonde to her right, who seemed intent on wrapping his knuckles.

She didn't realize she was staring until she locked eyes with Eric. She immediately looked away, not wanting to risk getting in trouble like she had an hour before, and fortunately, the other initiates, both interns and transfer ones, diverted Eric's attention from her.

Michelle approached where Four was positioned. She began to feel anxious, unsure of what to expect from the first training session, and she sincerely hoped that Eric was only there to supervise.

It was barely eight in the morning, and his knuckles were already sore, blood staining the wraps he had just put on.

In a few minutes, all eleven transfer initiates gathered in front of Eric and Four, who silently observed the initiates. They waited for silence before speaking.

"The initiation is divided into three different modules: the first is more physical, the second emotional, and the third mental. These three phases will last for two months. After these, if you pass, you'll officially be part of the Dauntless," Four began, walking towards the huge windows, and Michelle was grateful she had brought her jacket.

The sky was overcast, as it had been for the past few days, indicating they wouldn't have a sunny day for a while. One of the windows lacked glass, and they passed through it to enter a rooftop, which was set up with various targets and types of firearms.

"One per station!" Four shouted, standing in front of the table where the weapons were positioned, picking up a couple and approaching the initiates to distribute them. "The three modules carry different weights on your score, so don't worry if you're not good at something; you have a chance to catch up."

"If you're not good, you'll be thrown out," Eric added, entering the rooftop behind them with a nonchalant and bored air. He took his place at the table where Four was handing out the guns.

He reached Michelle and handed her the pistol; it felt heavy in her hands, and if she were honest, she didn't like it. She weighed it, passing it from hand to hand, feeling it.

It didn't feel right in her hands. 

"Now copy my position," Four positioned himself, holding the pistol with both hands, legs slightly apart for balance. "And fire."

His shot was perfect. It hit the center of the target's head.

Michelle began to tremble slightly, feeling awkward with the gun in her hand, and looking around, it seemed like everyone else had already done it. She raised the gun and spread her legs.

Around her, several shots rang out, but few of them hit the target. Even fewer were lethal.

She was the only one who hadn't fired a shot yet. She felt as if the gun would explode in her hand if she did.

She felt Four's presence behind her before seeing or hearing him. "Everything okay?" he asked, looking at the target with her, still devoid of holes.

Michelle nodded slightly, and he looked at her, immediately understanding what the problem was. It wasn't the first time he had seen someone react that way to a gun; it was a natural reaction to be afraid of a firearm.

With a gentle touch, he adjusted her stance, nudging her legs apart a little more with his foot.

"If it helps, close one eye to aim," he said, waiting for her to pull the trigger. Michelle took a deep breath, closing her eyes to try to isolate herself from her surroundings.

She opened her eyes and took aim, still trembling a bit, but when she fired the first shot, she managed to hit the silhouette. Nothing lethal, but she would certainly have lost the use of her right leg if it had been a person.

"Well done," he said before moving on to the person next to her.

Michelle smiled at having managed to pull the trigger and looked around, unconsciously searching for Sunny. She saw her busy shooting at a position a little to the right of her, and when she looked at Sunny's target, she was surprised to see two shots to the head, lethal, and some to the abdomen.

When she realized someone was watching her, she turned, locking eyes with Michelle. Sunny smiled at her, a euphoric expression on her face.

Michelle resumed shooting at her target, but she could only hit the arms or legs. She huffed in frustration at not being able to get closer to the heart or head.

"Is that the best you can do?" Eric's derisive tone caught her off guard, turning her head so quickly it gave her a headache.

She watched him in silence, hoping that after this comment, he would leave to torment another initiate. But he stayed there, arms crossed over his chest, watching her as if she were incapable.

"Shoot."

Michelle turned, the trembling in her hands more pronounced under the critical gaze of one of the leaders. She took a breath and took aim. The shot threw her off balance a bit, feeling the recoil more than before.

Surprisingly, she managed to hit the area between the neck and shoulder.

"See you below the red line, initiate," Eric whispered in her ear.

He left Michelle at her station, annoyed to see so many incompetent people gathered together. His eye fell on a girl, the shortest among them all, who had managed to hit the head, heart, and abdomen with every shot.

He stopped behind her, observing her technique. She was short, lacking muscles, without curves, but she had good technique.

The girl realized his presence behind her and briefly turned her head to see who it was. Seeing Eric, she turned her head back to the target, frightened. The stories from Four and Lauren had terrified her; she wanted to have as little to do with him as possible.

"Name?" his tone was monotone.

"T-Tina," she stammered, glancing to her left to observe Max, who watched the scene suspiciously.

"Not bad," he said, returning to take a round to see how the other initiates were faring.

Tina blushed at the compliment, turning to Max to silently celebrate.

Four kept an eye on him, feeling his gaze on his back, and if he were honest, he was annoyed by that behavior. He turned to look at him, catching him again near the same initiate he had sat next to at breakfast that morning.

What was so special about her? He had been wondering since Max, at breakfast that morning, had told him to keep an eye on Michelle. He hadn't told him why, just to be careful of her movements.

He didn't understand; she was obviously incapable, lacking muscles or strength, and she would be thrown out at the end of the first module. Wasting energy on such a recruit was pointless in his opinion.

They remained on the roof for the entire morning, shot after shot, everyone managed to become familiar with the pistol. Some more than others.

Sunny joined Michelle as soon as Four declared that they would have an hour for lunch, releasing them.

"It was amazing!" exclaimed Sunny, taking Michelle's arm, who, on the contrary, had a rather annoyed expression. Her arms and fingers were tingling from the effort of holding the gun up in the air for hours.

"Don't you like it?" Tina asked, joining the two girls and noticing Michelle's unhappy expression. "I thought it was so cool!"

"You did great," commented Sunny.

"Thank you, you were pretty good too," Tina took Sunny side to talk to her, but they were interrupted by Max, who, in a rather impolite manner, barged into the conversation.

"I, girls, was much better than all of you put together," he puffed up his chest, strutting around like a peacock to show off.

Tina shoved him playfully, laughing. "Yeah, right. That's why Eric came to compliment you," she said proudly, and Michelle felt a twinge of jealousy knowing that he had complimented her, when instead he had told her that she wouldn't even pass to the next module.

Michelle detached herself from the group, irritated by Tina's showing off. She knew it was a bit of an overreaction, she had no reason to take it so personally, but knowing that she was already on thin ice made her even more irritable than before.

"Hey…" Sunny tried to call out to her in vain, Michelle quickened her pace to reach the cafeteria.

She arrived at the cafeteria sooner than expected, overtaking anyone in her way, and when she reached the Pit, she was joined by Sunny. Unconsciously, she relaxed, a more serene expression on her face knowing that her one friend in that faction was by her side.

In many ways, Sunny reminded her of Anne, perhaps it was the fact that she was insistent and wouldn't leave unless she spoke to her.

"Are you sure everything is okay?" she asked, approaching her because of the noise in the cafeteria. A worried expression on her face.

Michelle pondered whether to tell her or if it was too stupid of a reason, but seeing her so concerned, she decided to talk to her about it. "Eric is convinced that I won't pass the first module."

Sunny looked at her first surprised and then angry. "Don't listen to him, we've just started. You have plenty of time to improve, and besides, you weren't even among the worst. Some didn't even hit an arm on the target!"

"I don't know what to say," Michelle shrugged and went to sit at the same table she had chosen since it always seemed to be empty.

"Ignore him, show him that you're the best in here," Sunny clung to her arm, smiling, and Michelle couldn't help but laugh along.

She reminded her too much of Anne.

"Anyway," Michelle lifted her head from her plate when she heard Sunny speaking to her, "What do you think of the other initiates?"

Michelle looked around to locate where the remaining nine initiates were sitting. Most of the former Erudite were sitting together, except for the brunette in front of her; the two Abnegation were sitting by themselves with the lone former Amity.

Then there were her former faction mates, talking amongst themselves on the other side of the cafeteria.

She shrugged. "Nothing special."

"True, but that Patrik over there is really good at shooting. He also seems to be in good shape," Michelle turned to look at the boy sitting with Chloe and Connor, with his usual cocky expression.

Michelle remembered all the times she saw him bullying some poor kid at school; it was obvious he was in good shape. He was the type of person who sailed through every situation, and it was almost normal for him to be so comfortable among the Dauntless.

"I guess you two don't get along from the way you're looking at him," Sunny turned to her, smiling mischievously.

"He's been a jerk since we were kids, that's all," Michelle replied bluntly.

"Yeah, it shows," her friend said lightly, returning to her meal.

The remaining ten minutes passed in silence as they finished eating and headed back to the training quarters. Michelle and Sunny were the first to leave the cafeteria and the first to arrive in the gym, after Four, of course.

He turned to look at them when they entered and then returned to writing something on a whiteboard placed near the various mats used for combat. "Today we start with techniques, we don't want you to get hurt."

"Good," Sunny said, starting to stretch, receiving confused looks from Michelle. "You should stretch too; it will make your muscles hurt less."

Michelle trusted her, especially after Four nodded in agreement with her friend. She stood next to her, copying her movements, and discovered that she was more flexible than she had imagined.

It didn't take more than ten minutes, just enough time for the huge room to fill up again with the transfers.

Michelle looked around and was relieved not to see Eric with them, but rather in the distance with the Dauntless kids and Lauren. Maybe this time she would be able to do her best without feeling intimidated.

She was wrong.

Eric's presence or absence didn't change the fact that she struggled to move the punching bag. She was relieved to see that many of her other classmates were in the same situation, although not exactly as bad.

Four moved from initiate to initiate to correct their form and give advice on how to improve, but when he came to her, he remained silent, observing her.

"You lack strength," he remarked, moving from her right side to her left. Michelle felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment. "But you're fast, very fast. Use that to your advantage."

He helped her improve her form, slightly bending her back and then pointing out critical points to strike. She felt slightly relieved to know that she wasn't completely lost, but that she simply needed to focus more on her tactics than strength.

Four had been kind in correcting her mistakes, in highlighting her weakness, but she knew that when Eric passed by, he could bury her. 

As she continued to hit the punching bag, she thought about how much harder than expected it would be to pass the initiation; she never imagined it would be so tough. Had something changed?

Towards the end of the training, Four stopped them and ordered them to pair up according to what was written on the whiteboard. Michelle paused for a moment to catch her breath and, walking towards the whiteboard, saw that her name was not paired with anyone.

She looked at Four in confusion, who approached her. "You're odd, one of you had to be with me."

Everyone took their places on the mats, and Four began to speak. "Now apply what you've done so far between yourselves. Don't hit each other hard; it's just to get the hang of the movements."

He turned to Michelle, giving her a small smile. "You start."

Initially, she was worried about having to train with their instructor, thinking he would be too harsh, but instead, it was pleasant; the movements were fluid, and every mistake he corrected, showing her a more effective way to defend or attack.

"Four!" all the initiates stopped to watch Eric advance towards them, a malicious grin on his face. "Allow me to give a demonstration."

Four looked at him grimly, not pleased with his tone and behavior. He approached them and took his place in front of Michelle, before casting a brief glance at the other initiates.

"Continuing like this will get you nowhere," he said sternly. "You have to prove that you're the best for us to choose you."

He assumed an attacking position, and Michelle watched him, immediately going into defense mode. She tried to hide the trembling in her hands as people began to surround them to watch the scene.

Everyone knew Michelle wouldn't come out of this without a bit of blood. Especially Four.

"Now watch, and maybe you'll learn something," Eric said before turning his attention back to Michelle, immediately noticing her insecurity and trembling. He smiled, pleased with her reaction.

Eric began to circle, forcing Michelle to move. He waited a few seconds before taking a step and then attacking, which she immediately noticed, allowing her to dodge the punch coming her way.

He was surprised, he had to admit.

After the first missed strike, he focused on the poor girl, launching blow after blow but failing to land a hit. Sunny watched them tense, ready to assist her friend as soon as something happened.

Four was surprised; he had noticed her speed but underestimated her tactics; Michelle could anticipate Eric's moves.

Eric, unlike Four, was more pissed off and annoyed than surprised. Sure, it was lasting longer than he wanted, but the fact that he missed her by inches was infuriating him.

Their skirmish picked up speed, and Michelle began to miss shots; her anxiety was starting to get the better of her. Her movements became less precise, and with a lunge, Eric managed to graze her, making him realize that this was his chance.

Michelle tried to dodge his strikes, but with each blow, Eric was getting closer and closer to hitting her. She was short of breath, her heart racing as she struggled to hold her ground.

The only thing she could focus on were Eric's words, telling her that she wouldn't make it, that she would be eliminated at the end of the first module, and as much as she wanted his words to motivate her, they had the opposite effect.

They dragged her down.

She got distracted for a moment, just a second, and in that moment, Eric managed to land a hit on her cheekbone. Michelle fell to the ground, and for a few seconds, she felt nothing, neither the people around her nor the pain.

But then it came.

She gritted her teeth in pain, the sharp sensation preventing her from opening her eyes. It felt as if her entire face had been shattered into a thousand pieces by that simple punch.

In the background, she could hear Eric's voice speaking to the initiates, but she couldn't focus on his words because of the intense pain.

She remained on the ground for a while, not too long, because when she got up, Eric was still standing in front of her, proud with his arms crossed over his chest as he looked down at her.

He smiled at her. "That's how you get yourself kicked out," he exclaimed to the other initiates before dismissing them.

It was already six o'clock.

Some of them stayed to watch Michelle for a few more seconds before heading back to the dormitory to take a shower. She remained still, holding the right side of her face with her hand, the pressure alleviating the pain.

She stared at Eric, who was still on the mat. He looked back at her, pleased with the blow he had landed; it would leave a nasty bruise if it hadn't already broken it.

They locked eyes, a silent promise to make each other's lives hell.

MATERIALIST

Negan Smith -Home Is Where The Heart Is: Prologue Home? Another Day No Heaven, Only Trouble

MATERIALIST

-Eric Coulter

Knowledge: Prologue, pt.1, pt.2, pt.3, pt.4, pt.5, pt.6, pt.7, pt.8, pt.9, pt.10, pt.11

-Four