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Only a stall door between them.

Summary:

What if it had been Eric who saved Tris from being pushed into the chasm instead of Four? What if this had caused a rift to form between Tris and everyone she loved? How would that have had a knock-on effect of one of the events in Insurgent?

Notes:

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They had messed up, and by using that word collectively she meant that she had messed up. Ultimately her rising to the bait and resorting to using physical violence had been entirely her fault. Never mind the fact that it was Peter who had provoked her. And yet, the words were not classed as breaking the Amity peace, only her actions were. Words could hurt as much as physical violence, if not more.

Amity would only ever see it as her transgression, but some small part of her was immensely happy that all of them were told they had to leave. If Peter was allowed to stay and she wasn’t, she might have caused a further stink about it.

As it was they, herself, her brother, Peter and Four were currently being given a thorough dressing down by Johanna.

Although she was sure only Caleb was listening intently, every time she looked at him he seemed thoroughly engrossed in the conversation. Nodding along and generally doing the speaking, apologising, for them all. Tris was not going to go full Amity and do that, she would let her brother make amends and try to tip the odds in their favour.

She feared, and that was a strong word choice, as it’s something that Dauntless have drilled out of them, that the damage they had done was irreparable and that his attempts would be rendered meaningless in the end.

Tris perked up and looked straight at Peter as he spoke, “It’s not my fault. She attacked me!” He even pointed at her then with a scowl on his face before he turned back to Johanna. “The whole of Amity witnessed it. I should be allowed to stay while they all get exiled. At the very least it should be the Stiff who should leave.”

Silence then, neither Four nor her brother said anything to refute that statement.

Luckily, Johanna did not take him up on the last part of the sentence and carried on saying her piece. The final verdict was solid, ironclad, nothing any of them said would change it. They were all going to have to go. There was no changing her mind on this matter.

“We can not have that sort of behaviour here. It upsets the balance and revokes all that Amity stands for…” Johanna was saying and had been talking about what had happened for a while. Tris knew not how long as she had alternated between listening, glaring at Peter and side eying her brother and Four. Both of whom had practically done nothing to defend her against Peter’s words, in here, in this very room or out there, Tris glanced toward the window. She needed some air so she stood to go towards it. All the while she thought that they should have done something to help her.

Even if it was to tell Peter to shut up she surely would have appreciated that over nothing at all.

Tris was only vaguely aware of Johanna talking at them, nodding at various points to try to convey that she was listening. She wasn’t. She was thinking about other things, trying to come up with times where people had defended her.

Her feet started walking on their own accord as she began to get lost in her thoughts.

Who had come to her aid?

Then a different question plagued her mind. Still her feet kept on moving her.

When was the last time someone helped her?

Her mind grew quiet and still as she found herself face to face with a horse, slowly she moved her hand towards it, not wanting to spook the animal.

Then, the softness of the horse was against her hand and it was glorious, she started stroking him. Don’t know why she knew it was a him, but it was a him, that much was certain. The horse seemed to know that she wasn’t in the best of moods and kept headbutting her hand and trying to get closer to her.

She allowed this and was flooded with a thought of a time where she had been helped, making a smile form on her face.

Against all odds, strangely, a memory surfaced, it was hazy but it was of the person who she was absolutely certain hated her, and yet he had proved that there was some concern in him. She remembered him comforting her that night, after everything that had befallen her. He even let her stay in his room, effectively turning from dreaded instructor to semi-viable friend for the night.

Tris sighed as her breathing calmed down and she became aware of her surroundings once more, the horse jolted from her hand, whinnying at something invisible, causing her to look up and away from him.

There was something not quite right. There was silence. Johanna was not droning on. Her brother was not groveling and Peter was not acting all high and mighty. And Four, well, he was just being his usual stoic self, she couldn’t hear if that had changed.

And, then, her ears heard something that sounded suspiciously like…Dauntless trucks. Multiple of them, her feet took several steps forwards, towards the opening of the barn so that she could set eyes on what was there.

“Tris,” a whisper shout came from the balcony, stopping her in her tracks. When she looked up it was surprisingly Johanna who had said something, her friends were nowhere to be seen, perhaps they had found a hiding place upstairs. Johanna was making her way down the spiral staircase, looking directly at her spot every time she came to face her way on it, “Hide. Now.”

It was so much like an order that Tris obeyed immediately, vaulting into the empty stall that was next to the horse that had calmed her.

Her landing disturbed a pile of hay, although it also dispelled some of the noise of the action. She slid to the floor in a crouch, coming to a stop as soon as possible.

Tris was only happy that this stall did not contain a horse she would have startled it something bad and been at further risk of discovery due to the horses actions.

She huddled as close to the door as she could, that was the best hiding place, sure she could go to the back of the stall, but anyone walking past would have a clear view of her.

This way was better, only someone who looked directly over the edge of the door would see her, and no one would do that, no one should suspect that there would be anyone in here.

Then, she heard a voice which made butterflies begin in her stomach and brought back memories of that night. The night he had saved her from death.

“Johanna. We are looking for rogue Dauntless and Divergents. You wouldn’t happen to be hiding any would you?” Eric said, Tris could clearly hear the threat in his voice even from where she was, hiding in a stall.

She should be fighting, not hiding. Tris did not hear the next thing that Johanna said, but she did hear Eric, “You seem awfully stuck in this doorway, Johanna.”

And then she heard his booted feet, moving at a slow much along the stalls in the stable, it seemed that he was checking in every single one, the way his footfalls would stop for a couple of seconds, every few seconds. Tris could just imagine him, peering into every stall, his eyes searching for someone.

Her heart started to race at the possibility of Eric finding her. Tris did not know if she wanted to be found or not. And he was in the stall next to hers. She could just about make out the top of his shadow forming in the stall she was hiding in. And Tris could hear him humming…humming? The only time he had done that before was when he was trying to soothe her into sleeping after her ordeal. The night he had thrown Al to his death.

It was getting really difficult for her to control her breathing. He was spending an inappropriately long amount of time looking into the next stall along from her. What was he doing that was taking him so much time? Maybe he knew that she was in there and didn’t want to find her, but that was absurd, of course he wanted to find her, he wanted to eradicate all Divergents from existence and she was one.

“Eric. They’re up here,” Peter shouted, causing her to jump, banging her elbow against the door, the sound echoing around the room. Pain reverberated up her arm, she had hit it in just the right place for it to hurt more than it should.

Damn. There was no way he hadn’t heard that sound.

She looked up just as Eric’s face appeared above her. He was leaning over the door. Half expected his hand to reach down and wrench her to standing by her shoulders. She braced for that impact, but nothing happened. Eric remained motionless except for his face.

His face lit up like the cat who had got the canary, a smirk appeared as he whispered, “Hello, there, stiff.” Eric’s eyes stayed on hers, lingering, and Tris was sure his eyes raked across her form, not in a derogatory way, but in an assessing way. It was the way his eyes had looked over her for injuries on the night that he had saved her.

Tris could only see his face, so her eyes roamed that, more often than she would like her gaze landed on his lips rather than his eyes. But when her gaze bounced back to his eyes, his entire face morphed. His expression gave way to something which resembled a grimace, like he realised that something very bad had happened.

And then he disappeared, shouting something that Tris did not catch as she was too busy trying not to think about jumping Eric. They were enemies for amity’s sake. Tris stood up to catch another glimpse of the face which appeared in her dreams and waking memories, “Eric.”

It was then that a hand hit her shoulder, another going across her mouth, gripping it a little too tightly, “Stay quiet and Stay down, Tris.” His voice was clipped and tight, and he threw a glance towards the entrance before letting her mouth go, the hand on her shoulder gave a squeeze.

She doesn’t know if it was the pounding of her heart, or the fact that he’d used her name or the fact that a realisation hit her, he was protecting her, but she pushed her lips to his, pushing her body against the door, trying to get as close to him as possible. He responded in kind, his lips devouring hers, his tongue plundering her mouth, but only for a second, then he was pushing her down, both hands on either of her shoulders.

“Do as I say, Stiff. Or else I might be made to do something I won’t like.”

“Thank-” Tris started to say, and then she found herself sprawled on her ass on the stall, Eric turning away from her, the most forlorn expression on his face, one which she thought mirrored hers, striding out of the stables at a fast clip, running. She heard him shout something else too but couldn’t for the life of her work it out.

She should do something, she should get up and check on Johanna or Peter or even go after Eric himself, but instead she lay on the dirt and straw where she landed after Eric had pushed her away from him. But it had to be done, he had protected her.

Against all odds, the person who was her enemy had protected her once again. He didn’t have to do anything the first time in the cavern, and he didn’t have to do anything this time.

Tris was going to remember these stables, this stall in particular for the rest of her life, just like she was going to remember that night in the caverns within the Dauntless compound.

She owed him, and she would pay him back one day.