*Disclaimer: I don't own anything from the Divergent series or the movie adaptation. This is purely for entertainment purposes.*

AN: Hi! Thanks for opting to read this. I'm relatively new to this fandom, but I've read the series and seen the movie (however I didn't retain much from the books.) After watching the movie and seeing that Eric wasn't as bad in it, I've had this strange thing with him and Tris (I blame Jai and Shai for having a good chemistry. Maybe I'm crazy.) The way he was portrayed in the movie made him more likable in my opinion. Anyway, enough of my rambling. Please R&R. Let me know it your like it...or hell, even if you don't.

Tris looked around, her head down as she walked around her former Dauntless home. She headed toward the hospital ward. Part of her was curious about the apparent absence of all the guards but she figured the Erudite needed all of the dauntless soldiers they could get. No one had stopped her yet, and she didn't think any of them would. A war was being fought, and they didn't have time for the injured. She didn't know how she had managed to sneak away without Four questioning her or offering to come with her. She was happy she hadn't seen him at all. He could be too much sometimes. But she found herself drawn to him, she needed to be away from him.

Finding where she was headed, she stalked toward the back wall, noticing that all the beds in the front of the ward were empty. As she passed doctors, all of them ignoring her, she tried to prepare for what she was going to say. They didn't question that she was a visitor at a time like this. Their incompetence would surely be their downfall later. Then she saw him, sitting up on his cot, his leg propped up and his arm over his eyes. His tattooed arms were bare, his leather jacked gone, revealing a black wifebeater and the intricate ink on his arms. She hated knowing that she put him there even if they had planned it.

She walked up next to him, pulling the hood of her jacket down, and shaking her hair free. "Hey." She greeted, taking the time to examine over him. She watched him, making sure he wasn't more injured than he would tell her.

He removed his arm from his face, a faint smile tugging his lips. "Took you long enough." He pulled her closer, into a hug. She kissed him, mumbling between pecks, her hand held the other side of his face and he held it in place.

"I came as soon as I could." Tris answered. She had been trying to get away from the Amity Compound for 2 days. Small tears had started to make their way from her eyes, and he thumbed them away without thinking. He said nothing about it, nor was she inclined to mention it either. They just had that silent connection. Before the mess of war started and after weeks of initiation, they had started a silent agreement. The bond was put to the test when he found out she was Divergent. And for a while, he battled with turning her in or helping her. He chose to help; much to Four's chagrin. The Dauntless trainer never failed to point out how bad of an idea it was.

"And the program?" He asked.

"Shut down." She didn't feel the need to explain in great detail what happened. "My brother, Marcus and Four are at Amity headquarters trying to set up a voting. But, Eric I need you to come with me."

"Why?" He asked, his eyebrow raised.

"To sway the voting. Having a Dauntless leader with us would be more convincing than an initiate trainer, a disgraced Abnegation Council Member, and two initiates." Tris answered, "We need to stop this war, Jeanine won't stop unless we get everyone to rally together. She's already working on resetting the sim program." She looked into his eyes, pleading with him. He seemed to think about it for a moment, his face thoughtful; His Erudite roots showing. He may not have looked the part, but he was much more intelligent than she had thought when she first met him. She bit her lip, trying to forget Four thought it was a terrible idea. She had to remind him that Eric had saved their asses, covered up for them, and gave them information.

"Okay."

Tris looked at him, "That's it?"

"Yes." Eric shrugged, "I'm bored just sitting here. And I figured a Dauntless leader being there would prove we're not all bad." He himself however, at his very core is an asshole.

Tris laughed, "Oh, but you are." He may have been different around her, but he could be cruel and maticulous. Well maybe not, after getting to know him and understanding him, she learned he wasn't that bad. She understood his methods. While she didn't agree with most of what he chose to do when it came to training initiates, she understood - with much thinking over - that he genuinely wanted the betterment of the Dauntless as a faction. Tough love she called it.

He sat up, groaning as he swung his legs around the side of the cot, his feet placed soundly on the floor, on either side of Tris. Instinctively, her hands shot to his chest, and she hooked her fingers in the straps of his shirt. Leaning her head against his forehead, careful of the piercings above his eyebrow. He held her face in his calloused hands, inhaling her scent. Part of him, the openly negative part of him, thought he'd never be near her again. He could have sworn Jeanine would have had her killed, but he was glad he was wrong. He kissed her forehead, her nose, her cheeks, her lips. He could taste the saltiness of shed tears, he could also see her resolve crumbling with every breath she took. She fell into him, a sob stifled in his shoulder. He held her by the nape of her neck, wishing she didn't feel like crap. She was a strong girl turned into a woman.

Tris couldn't hold it any longer, she had lost everything. Her parents were her everything and they died to protect her. She was trying to be brave, and pretend to be everything that attracted her to Eric in the first place; invulnerable, strong, brave. It was times like this where she wished she couldn't feel. She pulled herself together, letting him wipe away her tears.

"No more crying." He demanded gently. He really couldn't handle anymore crying. Most would say he enjoyed the misfortune of others, and maybe they would have been right, but he couldn't watch Tris cry. Not her. Not anymore.

She nodded, taking a deep breath, sucking in the air like her lungs had been empty. "Does it hurt?" She asked, a stupid question, she knew. She knew the bullet hole in his thigh was probably throbbing, the wound in her side hurt too, but he could handle it better.

He shook his head no, silently answering her question. "We need to go." He gestured behind her, his head nodding in that direction, to a cabinet. "Grab those viles for me." They looked similar to the viles that held the sim transmitters, but instead the liquid in them was a clear, pinkish color. It was obvious that they were administered with a transmitter gun, so she grabbed that too.

"What are they?" She asked, her eyebrows furrowed as she did as he commanded.

"Pain killers." His voice held no emotion when answering. Admitting that he needed something for pain made him upset. The bullet wound in his leg didn't hurt at the moment, but it would later. He stood and winced, bending over to lace his combat boots. He grabbed his jacket off the back of his cot, and in a swift movement, he was wearing it. Tris tossed the transmitter gun to him, and he put it in his pocket while she put the viles in her pockets. "Let's go..."

She nodded. Together, they made their way down the dark, underground halls, keeping their heads low.

"What's the plan?" She asked, looking him in the eye, trying to ignore the limp he walked with.

"I thought you had one." He smirked, a teasing look on his face.

"I guess we're winging it." Tris shrugged.

Eric laughed, something he rarely, if ever, did. "I thought we already were."