Devotion (Four/Theo Eaton x OC) [COMPLETE]

Chapter 3: Compassion

A few days after my incident with Stacey, I slipped away from my training to see the new initiates fight. Since my training that day was being overseen by a substitute Dauntless instead of Eric, they didn't notice my absence. Luckily, their oversight allowed me to see how the recruits were progressing.

I hid among the shadows and stood apart from the group while Eric and Four carefully evaluated two opponents in the arena. As they circled each other in the ring, it was evident the pair were unfairly matched. The girl looked small compared to the tall muscular boy who stood across from her. I am a firm believer that the size of your opponent is negligible if you can outsmart them, but nothing in the girl's expression indicated she had a plan.

Just as predicted, the fight did not last long and it ended brutally. A scream of pure pain came from the girl as she was kicked in the stomach after already being down on the ground. That scream released a feeling I hadn't felt in a long time.

"Enough!" I shouted over the commotion before jogging over to the girl's limp body to examine her condition. She was unconscious, though still breathing, crumpled into a ball with her arms hugging her stomach.

"What are you doing?" Eric demanded as he loomed over me.

I ignored the question and took the girl's body into my arms, running to the nurse's office while dodging and jumping over obstacles. I'm no medical expert but I figured that in her condition, there wasn't a minute to lose. An empty cot was on the left side of the room when I entered the hospital wing. After placing her on the mattress, I stood in a corner with my arms crossed and watched the nurse tend to her wounds.

Why did I do that? Why couldn't I just have walked away? Perhaps it was because she reminded me of myself somehow. I didn't know her at all, but something made me feel responsible for her.

I sighed and complied when the nurse shooed me out of the room. With nowhere to be at the moment, I decided to visit the kitchen for a snack. A group of chefs worked to prepare dinner as I walked past the counter and discreetly reached for a bread roll from a basket. Suddenly, the back of my hand stung with pain. Apparently, the punishment for stealing bread is to be struck by a wooden spoon.

"What are you doing with my rolls?" James asked, raising his weapon again if I should make another attempt.

I rubbed my hand with a sour expression and pouted, "I'm hungry."

The Asian crossed his arms, "You'll have to wait like everyone else."

"But James—" I whined.

"Uh, uh, uh, uh," he interrupted, wagging his index finger sideways in front of my face. He then began to push me through the kitchen. "Get out of my kitchen, Swift. I am a very busy man and I don't have time to feed hungry thieves."

I groaned and longingly gazed at the closed kitchen door. My stomach growled in complaint, but the door didn't move though I wished it to. I was beginning to plan my next course of attack when the door opened slightly and a hand appeared through the crack. In its palm was a single roll of bread.

I smirked and took it carefully. My hand was still tingling from that blasted spoon.

"Don't want to give wrong ideas for other thieves to break into my kitchen," James's voice whispered from the other side.

"Thanks, James," I laughed. "It'll be our secret."

The door closed again and I heard the chef bark orders to the other cooks.

I bit into the roll as I walked through the hallways with no particular destination in mind. Just when I was starting to enjoy myself, I heard footsteps of someone trailing behind me. Being used to a hostile environment, I knew that someone following me was not good news.

I ate the last of the roll as I casually went around a corner. I stopped walking and pressed myself against the wall to wait for the person to follow.

They turned the corner and I grabbed them by the shoulders, roughly pinning them against the wall. The succeeding slap against my cheek took me off guard and I recoiled backward in surprise. Suddenly, I was the one against the wall with Eric breathing down my neck.

"Why did you interfere with the initiate's training?" he demanded.

I didn't answer. I couldn't because I barely knew the answer myself. Mercy? Compassion? Those weren't Dauntless traits by a long shot. If those are true, that meant I wasn't Dauntless and if I wasn't Dauntless, what was I? Where did I belong?

A sneer appeared on his face as he tightened his grip on my arms. Something in his eyes made me uneasy. They were normally filled with disgust, but this particular look was one of murderer.

Other footsteps sounded down the hall and Eric glanced in their direction with a hidden expression of panic. He quickly released me and ran down the hall opposite the approaching footsteps, disappearing in the distance.

I breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed my tense muscles, nearly falling over when my knees unbuckled. I tried not to show Eric how much he frightened me, but his threats truly did hold power over me.