Some notes. This is set a year before the events of Divergent and will change that story when they overlap, but I am not breaking up Four and Tris, I promise. I've changed some things (about the factions, about the timeline, etc) and added some stuff. It's also really long, so... yeah. There will be alot of smut eventually. Just not right off. There is alot of physical violence and some uncomfortable situations (mostly against a teenaged girl), so be warned. Otherwise Enjoy!

The Dauntless

When it was her turn, there was no indecision, no internal struggle, and when her blood sizzled on the hot coals of Dauntless, it was the only outcome possible. Her parents and brothers would miss her, she would miss them, but they all knew this was inevitable. It had always been Dauntless for her. Always.

The train screeched along the tracks, grating her nerves, but music to her ears. It was the sound of hope, the sound of her future. In her initiate class, there had been fourteen transfers, but she was the only Erudite. She had gone to school with all of these other kids, but none of them knew her. No one knew her. She could start fresh easily, be who she truly was without a struggle. She would. She was already feeling more herself, somehow, sitting with her legs dangling out the open door. Surely that wasn't safe, but no one tried to stop her. The city scrolled by, like she was riding in one of the Erudite cars, but from so high up, she could see it all. It was glorious.

A building with a glass dome ceiling, which might have been beautiful if anyone bothered to clean it, slid into view and someone shouted for everyone to get ready. The Dauntless headquarters. She stood, leaning out the open door to get a better view, her hand securely gripping the railing. The train didn't seem to be slowing, which shouldn't have surprised her. The Dauntless students had always come pouring out of the cars as they passed the school, but that was on a grassy hill. This was more than a hundred feet in the air. She looked at the buildings passing her and did a quick estimate in her head. Anyone in her car would have to jump with a minimum of two car lengths of building left, or else they risked missing. There were nine other people in her car - most of them Dauntless, so they would go first, already familiar with this leap. Plenty of time.

Sure enough, the six Dauntless-born jumped off the train with a few half-hearted whoops. They were followed by the two Candors. All that remained was herself and an anxious Amity boy, who towered over her diminutive five foot self.

"You go first!" he shouted, far louder than he needed to for her to hear him over the train. "I'll go right after." The way his eyes were widened, darting around, the sweat dripping off him, despite the light clothing he wore and the wind whipping through the car told her otherwise.

"You need to jump, now!" she insisted. Either he would go too late or not at all and either way, his fate would be sealed. When they'd all rushed out of the school, after the Choosing Ceremony, two transfers (a round Amity girl and an too thin Abnegation boy) couldn't keep up and missed the train. Factionless. It wasn't her responsibility, but couldn't just let it happen again; not when she could stop it. She grabbed his arm, pulling him toward the door. Being Amity, he didn't fight her, which was fortunate or she'd never have been able to move him. "Go!"

She shoved him, but this time he resisted. In a few seconds, he might kill them both. She reached up a slapped him as hard as her small size and lack of reach could muster. Shocked, he cupped his cheek and blinked owlishly at her. It might have been funny under different circumstances. Funnier, anyway. She took the opportunity to grab the railing he'd just released, planted her foot on his backside, and shoved him with all her strength. It wasn't much, but it was enough. He fell out of the car, landing hard on the gravel rooftop and rolling several times before stopping. He wasn't going to feel great for a while, but he'd be alive and not Factionless.

She leapt from the train herself now, heart in her throat as the edge of the building raced towards her. Thankfully, her tendency to be generous with her measurements left her several feet from the precipice when she landed. She dropped to the gravel and scraped her knee. Her blue slacks were torn and blood was already staining the material. She grinned to herself, taking a moment to appreciate the sight before carefully brushing away the bits of stone stuck to her wound. A few people were helping up the Amity boy, brushing him off, making sure nothing was broken. He looked over at her in a daze, as if he couldn't quite believe what she'd done. Well, you're welcome. Dumbass.

As the last of the initiates landed on the roof, a man's voice rose over the din. "Everyone over here! Let's go!" Quickly, they all complied, gathering around a tall, bulky man with light brown hair - buzzed on the sides, slicked back into a wave on top - and piercings above his right brow. He certainly cut an impressive figure, with twin tattoos boldly marking his throat above clothing black on black on black and his intensely dominant glare, standing on the foot wide ledge of the building as if it were a sidewalk. She instantly saw why they would have someone like him greeting the new initiates.

"Alright, listen up. I'm Eric, one of your leaders."

He couldn't be more than twenty and already a leader? He certainly acted the part; carelessly self-assured, confident in the deference of others.

"If you want to enter Dauntless, this is the way in." He turned, peering down over the edge. Jumping onto a building was one thing, but off of one? That was crazy! Anxious murmuring broke out amongst the initiates. Even the Dauntless-born seemed confused and afraid.

Her brow furrowed. It was obviously a test. But was it a test of bravery? Trust? A way to ferret out blind obedience? It seemed unlikely that they would intentionally kill their most daring initiate straight off, but she wasn't entirely certain. For all her certainty this was where she belonged, she knew frustratingly little about the initiation process. That was an intentional part of the faction system, a way to prove you belonged just as you were.

"What's at the bottom?" A Candor girl asked, her voice a high trill of fear.

"I guess you'll find out," Eric told her, then nodded his head to the side in afterthought. "Or you won't. If you're too scared to jump, you don't belong here."

Everyone looked at everyone else, but no one made a move. She licked her lips and tried to swallow, but her mouth and throat were as dry as the gravel rooftop. If she didn't belong here, she didn't belong anywhere, so it didn't matter what was at the bottom. Shaking like a leaf, she made her way through the crowd.

"C'mon, who's gonna go first?" Eric called, impatiently. She stepped forward, looking up at him. He smirked down at her, clearly unimpressed. Short, mousy, and soft, she wouldn't have been anyone's pick of first to jump off a building. Especially not as pale as she'd gone, shivering like she was. "Need a boost?"

There were a few nervous laughs from the other initiates. She shook her head, unable to get any words passed the desert that was her trachea. He hopped down off the ledge easily, stepping out of her way. She knew better than to look over the edge, keeping her eyes glued to the ledging as she eased herself up onto it. It felt like an eternity. She faced the rooftop, rather than the fall, gripping the sides of her slacks because she didn't know what else to do with her sweaty, shaking hands.

"Any day now," Eric prompted, boredly, looking up at her now. They were all looking at her, waiting, anxious. Dauntless or death, this is what it had always been for her.

Throwing her arms wide, she tipped backwards. When there was nothing but air around her, she gasped, her heart stopped, time stopped. Then it started again, faster than before, and she was falling. Her vision narrowed, blackness threatening to close in as she went down and down. A scream was clawing its way up from her lungs, fighting to be free. It never got the chance as a moment and an eternity later, she hit the ground. No, not the ground. Something firm cradled her body, taking the force of the fall and bouncing her back up the way she'd come. A net. Above her she could see the sky through a jagged hole broken in the street above. She'd done it. She belonged.

"This way, initiate," a gruff voice called from her right. The net dipped and she rolled that way, where another tall, brunette Dauntless man helped her to the ground. This one was leaner, with eyes no less intense than Eric's, but less oppressively dominating. "Never seen one go backwards before."

She nodded, breathless. Her heart felt like it would burst through her ribcage at any moment. "It's scary up there," she whispered in a rush. He chuckled, nodding back at her.

"Yeah, it is. What's your name?"

She licked her lips. "Honey."

He tilted his head, as if he thought he hadn't heard her properly. "Honey?"

"Yeah, Honey."

A drawn out hollering, male, faded into being as the second initiate dropped through the hole and into the net. It was the big Amity boy she'd shoved off the train. Guess he'd gotten over his fear of jumping. Unless someone else pushed him.

The Dauntless man motioned for her to move back. "First jumper, Honey!" he announced before going to help big Amity down from the net.

Stepping out of the way, she smiled to herself. Honey, the first jumper. She was Dauntless.

The first day passed in a blur. The transfer initiates were shown the compound after being separated from the Dauntless-born, led by Four, the man who'd pulled each of them from the net. He was apparently from the same class as Eric, but had gone into the security side of Dauntless, instead of leadership. He certainly wasn't trying to make friends with his short, brusque attitude. That was fine. Honey didn't need him to be her friend; she needed him to be her teacher. As the first in his class, she had to assumed there was much she could learn from him.

The transfers were informed they were competing against the Dauntless-born, but being trained separately, and their rankings would determine what sort of future they had with the faction. The higher you ranked, the more options you had. For tonight, they were all equals, but they were listed on the board in the order they had jumped - making Honey number one. She liked seeing her name in that slot.

After changing into their new Dauntless uniforms, they burned their old faction clothes. She might never wear blue again and she was fine with that. More than fine. Then it was into the mess hall for food. Hamburgers, baked potatoes, a few vegetables - it was far less refined that what the Erudite initiates would be eating tonight, but it suited Dauntless. Hearty and fortifying, tasty, but without frills and followed by the most decadent chocolate cake in existence. And no one clucking their tongue at you for adding too much salt, taking too large a portion, shoving too much in your mouth. It was the best meal she'd ever eaten.

Before going back to the initiate barracks, Honey slipped away for something she'd wanted to do for years. Most of the others were already asleep when she returned, too much excitement taking its toll. She knew the feeling. Anxious for tomorrow, but exhausted just the same, she dropped off to sleep easily, feeling truly positive for the first time in so long she couldn't remember the last.

The first day of training began with the piercing shriek of a siren and the anguished groans of fourteen groggy teenagers. Most of them moved like zombies as they rolled off their cots and either trudged into the bathroom or started to dress. A tall, slim girl called Daisy bounced about her tasks, far too chipper for the early hour. Her long, straight hair waved around her like a golden flag. Honey scratched at her own head in disgust. Her scalp was dry, itchy, and her hair felt like straw. Big Amity sat on the cot across from her. He still seemed a bit dazed. There were several harsh scrapes on the left side of his face and a bruise running from his cheekbone to his jaw, which was slightly swollen. There were more abrasions on his hands and arms, bruises on his shoulders and back - deep wine stains on his milk chocolate skin. Thankfully, nothing had broken when he fell from the train; when Honey had pushed him out.

He looked over at her and blinked several times in confusion. "Your hair is white," he told her, as though she didn't know.

She fought back the urge to grin and nodded, eyes wide. "I know. From the fall."

His eyes rounded like saucers, one beefy hand coming up to touch his own hair, which was copper wool. "Really?"

She laughed, then, shaking her head. "No, I got it done last night. Clean slate, you know?"

The boy looked greatly relieved, letting out several deep whooshes of air. "Wow, you scared me." He paused and offered a friendly smile, looking shy. "It looks nice, though."

"Thanks." She didn't know if he was sincere or just being nice, because he was Amity. Not that it mattered either way; she liked it. When Honey had arrived, her hair had been the color of marsh mud and hung well passed her shoulders in messy waves. Now, it barely reaching the nape of her neck, and, with the extra weight gone, it was a chaotic mass of curls and stark white. The stylist at the salon recommended she wait a week between the intense bleaching and putting a color into it. That was fine, because Honey couldn't decide on what color she wanted, anyway.

Big Amity offered her his hand. He didn't even need to stretch to reach across the gap between their cots. "I'm Calhoun, but everyone calls me Cal."

Honey shook his hand, warm and rough from working the fields, surprised at how gentle his grip was. "Do you prefer Cal?"

He shrugged. "They always called me Cal. I kinda like the sound of Calhoun, though. You think?"

She nodded. "It has a certain ring to it. I'm Honey."

"Like honey as in bees?"

"Honey as in badger," she grinned widely. His brow furrowed, incredulous. He thought she was joking. "I'm small, but fierce."

Calhoun laughed, standing to stretch his enormous frame. They raised 'em big on the farm. He scratched his stomach, looking around at the other initiates absently. "Honey Badger, huh?"

She got up herself, pushing her pants down. Under them she wore a pair of shorts, like the boys got. She wasn't prudish, exactly, but she was a sixteen year old girl and changing in front of a bunch of strangers was embarrassing. And maybe she was a little self conscious about her shape, which her mother had always called, in the kindest criticism she was capable of, "a little curvy". "Yeah. Honey, cause I'm cute. Badger cause I'm mean."

"I believe that." She shrugged, pulling a tight spandex bra over her tank, followed by a black tshirt, then using girl magic to pull the tank off under them both. He hopped as he tugged his pants up his long legs.

"Yeah, how are those, by the way?" She couldn't help reaching out to touch the bruise on his shoulder. It could be construed as a nurturing kind of concern by anyone who didn't know better. He shrugged, waiting for her to pull her hand back before slipping his own black tee over his head, covering the marks.

"I'll live. I guess I should thank you."

"I just didn't want to see you splattered on the pavement," she insisted with a shrug, then headed off to the toilet. Someone had strung up their bedspreads to separate and conceal two of the toilets; probably the Abnegation transfers. So considerate.

There were three Abnegation, five Amity, and five Candor in her class. All of them were taller than her, stronger probably. But she was Erudite-born and, while she'd left that life behind, her brain had come with her.

After breakfast, they all trooped to the hand to hand combat training area where Four was waiting. It was a massive open space of concrete flooring broken up only by thick support columns at regular intervals. Large windows let in light, but were so dirty they may as well have been frosted glass. There was a weight training area and several sparring mats, a set of risers, and a raised fighting ring. After having everyone warm up with a few laps around the expansive room, stretches, and various calisthenics, their instructor started teaching them basic fighting stances and blocks. The entire first half of the day was just learning how to correctly stand and block and Honey was getting irritated in her eagerness to learn something more proactive.

At lunch, most of the transfers sat at the same long table, chattering about what they'd learned, what they hoped to learn, what life had been like in their birth factions.

"I like your hair," Daisy said. She sat across the table from Honey. Calhoun was on her right, a quiet Abnegation named Beth to her left. "I was thinking of getting pink streaks in mine, but I don't know."

She flipped her shining blonde tresses over her shoulder. In training, her hair had been pulled back into a high pony tail, but the moment they'd been released, she took it down again. Her lips drew together in a perfect pink mew of indecision. She was Amity, also; sun-kissed and lovely. Honey wondered what she would look like with a broken nose. The thought had no malice behind it, as she didn't dislike the other girl. They'd only just met. It was the same to Honey as wondering how Daisy would look with the pink streaks she'd mentioned.

"Should get blue, to match your eyes," Calhoun pointed his fork at her.

"Maybe." She shrugged gracefully. "Are you going to put color in yours?"

Honey shrugged, not nearly as graceful. "I dunno. It's kind of growing on me."

Beth gave a little titter of laughter and when they looked over at her, she shrugged with a silly smile. "Her hair is growing on her."

"Oh, that was bad," Calhoun chortled good-naturedly.

"Hey," a boy said, loudly, coming to sit beside Daisy. "Did I hear you tell the big guy your name was Honey Badger this morning?"

"If you're asking, I guess you did," she answered him with a smirk.

"Really?" He scoffed. "You could say anything and that's what you picked?"

"Shut up, August," Calhoun said.

"No, seriously," August insisted. "What's your real name? Is it something terrible, like Eunice?"

She decided to ignore him, going back to eating her hamburger. Thank God, she hadn't been born into Candor. She would have killed someone years ago.

"She says her name is Honey, so her name is Honey," Beth frowned at him.

"Oh, in that case, my name is Hotdog Sandwich," August announced grandly. Everyone around them erupted into laughter. Honey's bottom lip quivered between her teeth, beside her Calhoun was silent, but his shoulders were shaking. She made the mistake of looking at his face. His lips were pinched tightly together to hold in any sound. He was trying valiantly and she appreciated it. His cheeks suddenly bulged out and he snorted, which did her right in. Honey burst out laughing, immediately followed by Calhoun, who's guffaws practically shook the table.

"Friggin'… Hotdog…" was all she managed to squeak out. It was too random and ridiculous to be mad, even if he'd been trying to make fun of her.

Aside from never shutting up, it turned out August didn't seem like a bad guy, really. The rest of the conversation was idle banter and they all went back to the training room in a pretty good mood. Unfortunately, for Honey, they spent the rest of the day learning how to counter and recover from a hit. Apparently, Four was saving any actual offense until later. Not, too much later, she hoped.

Feedback is ALWAYS appreciated.