A/N

This story portrays sensitive subjects with multiple trigger warnings.

Read on with caution.

Also a minor note, from the 16th of April '17, this story is under editing. :)

Sarah can hear them arguing downstairs. Well, not so much arguing, but strongly heated words. Abnegation didn't like confrontation.

Sitting straight with her hands balled in her lap, she waits, just like her two other sisters and her much younger brother. Unusually for a crowded room of typical youngsters, they don't play or barely move. The young boy, Thomas, who is seven, sits with a toy truck, rolling the wheels methodically backward and forwards. Sometimes he would hum for the engine but it was barely audible and when he did, he would look at her with an expression of guilt.

Sarah's father's voice is louder and booms up the stairs, capturing everyone's attention in the room. "Sarah is the oldest. She doesn't have much choice. I tried speaking to the council but it's our family name and apparently a completely acceptable place to pass initiation."

"She's just turned eighteen. She's only just accepted her place within Abnegation. It's unfair…" Her mother pauses, and Sarah can only imagine the exaggerated gasp in realization as she snaps, "What if she fails?!"

"She won't…"

The words drift eerily up the stairs into the cold, gray room lit by one dim bulb in the corner. They talk as if she doesn't exist. However, she is used to this kind of treatment by now, it's how Abnegation worked. They listened to their parents and didn't dare to defy them as they always knew best.

They would do what was best for her.

Her eyes drift to her younger sister sitting on the end of the bed. Mary sits very much the same way, her back locked straight and feet firmly on the floor. They catch eyes briefly and Mary smiles weakly at her, the apples of her cheeks lit in a tinge of gold.

Their face shapes were similar, round, with relatively rosy cheeks and blue eyes. But Sarah was blonde and Mary was a brunette. The youngest of the sisters was fiery red and couldn't be further from Abnegation if she tried. Bouncing curls fell from her bun, her posture slack on the desk chair in the room and she seemed bored, picking her nails.

This family meeting scenario was often. She would be lying if she denied the fact adrenaline and sheer dread didn't run her blood cold. But ignoring the impossible blatant nerves, she lifts her cheeks amicably back to her similar sister.

Their Mother's voice drops low in some sort of defeat. After all, she was the one who fell and broke her leg just in time for Sarah's initiation, putting everyone in this situation. "We are talking about Mr. Coulter, John. Not some half man of Candor…" As far as insults go, that was the worst. "This placement will fall under her initiation and if she fails, which is highly likely…" Sarah shifts on her words and Mary touches her hand for half a second while their sister, Lizzie, smirks at her. "…she will be factionless…our own daughter!"

"If any one of them can, it's her. We don't have a lot of choices here."

"He's impossible to around. Sarah's so innocent… this will destroy her. I've seen and heard things… I-I can't discuss them…"

Thomas holds the truck out to Sarah and she takes it, patting her lap for him to sit. She wonders briefly how the others will cope with her lack of presence in the day if what they are discussing downstairs comes into effect. Subconsciously she shakes the thought from her mind, stroking the flyaway hairs of her brother.

"Sarah!" they beckon to her from downstairs.

The young boy stiffens on her lap and her sisters watch her critically. "Take Thomas. And get ready for bed." Sucking in a full breath, she leaves the room quickly, descending the concrete steps towards the long dining table. Her mother sits with her leg propped on the bench, her father the opposite side to her.

They both barely make eye contact but she keeps herself composed and polite. "It's okay. Father can take me first thing tomorrow morning."

"I'm so sorry Sarah. If there was another way…"

There wasn't. Her Father and Mother ran all works on the Leader's suite, keeping the place pristine within Dauntless and the Leader's happy. It seemed to work until Mr. Coulter came into power, then everything seemed to become much harder and he only requested the same regular faces, mainly her mother, and made life hell for any others.

Whether her Father would admit it or not, he made his escape and left with the excuse of trying for the Abnegation council around the same time Mr. Coulter stepped up to the mark. But who was she to talk badly of her father's backbone...

With her mother now out of action for weeks and in time for initiation, she was the perfect substitute. No one else was dumb enough to do it and they hoped the connection with the family would be easier for her to transition.

His reputation preceded him.

"Can I go to bed? I'd rather be fully rested for tomorrow," Sarah asks, watching her parents nod.

She takes the stairs at a normal pace till out of sight and then quickly jogs the rest, finding her small box room and shutting the door quietly behind her. Within the confines of her room, she sobs, wordlessly, soundlessly. She'd have been better off in another faction. But it was too late now.

She was going to be factionless.

Sarah's father keeps a timely stride in front of her. She keeps her head down, willing to shrivel into the nearest hole and hide. Every now and again he would throw out advice or rules over his shoulder.

"You call him sir."

"You don't question."

"Don't touch anything without say."

"Everything is confidential."

The last one shocks her more than she'd like. "You are an object to them, not a person."

The full reality of the dire situation doesn't hit home until she sees the entrance to Dauntless. Black bodies run here and there around them, a guarded entrance with guns and harsh stares, loud voices and obnoxious taunts. "Stiffs." "Grays." Even harsh innuendos thrown her way. She just keeps her head down, staring at cracks on the floor and following her father quickly.

They stop in front of the guards where her father clears his throat. The Dauntless look him up and down threateningly like they were going to catch the Abnegation germ off him. "Sarah Bennett. Reporting to the Leader's suite."

There's a deftly silence and she lifts her head, catching eyes with one of them. His lip curls up and he seems to grab a radio on the front of his jacket, mumbling words into it. When he looks back he's fully amused. "We've been expecting you." Then he looks at her father. "Not you."

In true Abnegation fashion, he nods without argument. Sarah silently pleads him with a worried look, begging him not to leave her, not through the pit of Dauntless… The guards chuckle, obviously catching the flighty expression. "Listen, love. We ain't got all day. You going in or what?"

"I'll be back to walk you home." That's all she was going to get in comfort from the old man.

"Yes." She turns back to the guards. "I'm ready." They wave her through and she clamps her hands together in front of her, bracing for all the stares. She knew there would be other Abnegation here, but they would be used to it, not new meat and definitely not so jumpy and frightful as her. The Dauntless would be getting their kicks.

They walk her through a massive open area, glass above their heads and cavernous walls with stairways and walkways lacing above them. Fearing to get lost, she moves closer to the burly guard, but not too close. They walk militantly, taking the steps two at a time and Sarah can't seem to move quick enough. He was doing it on purpose.

When they get to an elevator, she guesses this is the way to the Leader's suite. She briefly wonders if it will be as cold up there as it is down here, and makes a mental note to wear an extra vest for tomorrow. – If she survives.

"Second floor." The guard tells her and she waits. "I'm not pressing the fucking button for ya. You got hands." He nudges her shoulder in passing, almost knocking her off her feet.

A faint heat of embarrassment and worry bristles on her chest, she was going to have weeks of this now. This was her initiation into Abnegation, the harshest of them all. Almost on par with punishment.

She slams the button harder than usual, waiting as the numbers above the door count down. The laughter and shouts were haunting echoes around her, she had no idea how anyone could possibly choose Dauntless. Every one of them had to be crazy or mentally impaired.

Thankfully the elevator is empty and she manages to get to the second floor without any incident. The doors open to a lavishly tiled corridor - no rock, grit or dirt in sight. A pristine desk with a lone woman behind eyes her suspiciously as she meekly approaches.

"I'm Sarah Bennett."

The woman looks down her clothes and back so blatantly she may as well of insulted her. "You're awfully young."

"I'm eighteen."

"Alright," the woman huffs, rolling her eyes. "I'm Clair. I'm the secretary to all the Leaders. My word is as good as theirs when it comes to it. Do you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am."

The lady stands, taking an unexpected picture that blinds Sarah momentarily. "For your pass. Now, if you'd like to follow me."

She's led to a door with 'E. Coulter' engraved on a plaque. The lady turns as she's about to step through the door. "He's not here at the moment but you will wait... And you won't touch anything if you're smart."

Sarah nods and is then pushed into the room. "Good luck," says Clair, while shutting the door with a slam.

For a minute she takes everything in - blindingly spotless, a cupboard to one side, a desk with a computer lamp and a plush looking reclining desk chair. Opposite sits an ordinary plastic bucket seat obviously for guests. There's a green plant on top of a set of draws by the window and the blinds are half-mast.

It's a mix of gray, white and black with no personal items anywhere. The green from the plant is the only color. Strolling slowly to the spare chair, she sits down, entwines her fingers, and waits.

Sarah hears him before she sees him, the clomping boots and multiple voices, but his is the loudest. The door is most likely kicked open and she stands hurriedly, almost knocking the chair over and smoothes her skirt.

He stands heads taller than her, his shoulders filling the frame with a thick wodge of A4 paper notes in his hand. When he looks up his eyes are cold, disinterested and he gives her a tilted look. "Who are you?" His voice is deep, hinting on amusement that some imbecile has dared creep into his room.

"Sarah Bennett."

The other guards stop behind Mr. Coulter and seem to try and look over his shoulder, catching glimpses of her. She looks between them all and Eric clicks his tongue, following her eyes, he glances behind him. He steps more into the room and then shuts the door on them all without a word.

When he moves towards his desk there is a crisp sound from his jacket, his weight evenly distributed in his clomping boots. He licks his thumb, flicking through the paperwork and leaves her standing in the same position.

The seconds turn into minutes and she finally finds the confidence to clear her throat. "Do you need me… to do anything? ...Sir."

"I don't know, stiff. What are you good at?" He jots something down on the paper not even glancing up. "That's ten minutes you've already wasted now. You don't get to pass on staring or silence alone." Her cheeks flush furiously and he smirks to the paper.

"I'm waiting for your order, Mr. Coulter…"

"Ah, is that it?" He bites the top of his pen, sitting back, eyeing up the stockings on her legs. "…Okay. Water the plant."

Sarah knows that's not within the curriculum. He's toying with her like they all said he would. But an order is an order and he raises brow impatiently at her. "And where do I get water from? Sir." There's no sink or noticeable faucet she's seen on her way here. And she certainly didn't know if she was even allowed to wander around Dauntless unaccompanied.

He seems more interested now, leaning on his elbows and squinting at her. "I don't know, maybe you could spit on it?" The piercing above his brow glints and the black lines of his neck are more noticeable with him looking up from his desk.

She frowns and he seems to mock her expression. "I'm sorry, you want me to water the plant…by spitting on it?"

"Ridiculous, isn't it? You asked the stupid question, I found the most idiotic answer." Pushing up from his desk, Sarah watches his fingers skim across the top of the surface, just as he comes to a stop in front of her. He grips his hands in front of him and tilts his head to look down at her. "The average time it usually takes a stiff to ask me for an order is anywhere between an hour to three. You took ten minutes. Are we going to have trouble here?"

She won't look him in the eye, her blue orbs focussing on something other than him in the room. "No, sir. I like to keep busy is all."

"Good. Now to business…" Sarah blinks in confusion at him. "I have a few things I expect of you. Questions too. If you answer them correctly, I won't rid of you in the next five minutes." She nods once, so he continues. "Can you take orders without questioning their rationality?"

"Yes."

"So spit on the plant."

Sarah now meets his eye, they flicker between hers and he motions his head towards it, gleefully watching her plump cheeks turn pink.

Walking to the window, she grabs the pot, concealing her mouth with a hand and spits in it. Defiantly, she places it back.

"Are you a vegetarian?"

"No, sir."

"Do you prefer Dauntless or Candor?"

"Abnegation," Sarah answers and he frowns. "Abnegation is my faction and I wouldn't want to be anywhere else." - Especially with what she's seen so far.

"Divergents?"

"They don't fit into our society."

He nods at her this time. Then he begins circling around her. "Read and write, can use computers and open minded to the use of mobile electronics?"

"All."

"Good." Moving to his desk he pulls out a phone from a drawer, sliding it towards her. "This is yours. You have one number, mine. Only I will call you on this and you will answer immediately, no matter the time or day. Usual hours will be seven till late, Sundays off, but I still may need you to come in, so don't just assume."

He studies her intently till she nods. "Everything you do, say or hear in this office, stays in this office. My actions are most likely to be enforced, so the likelihood of your Abnegation traits will detest me. But you are to keep that to yourself and don't question anything I do."

"Yes, sir."

Now he begins talking like he's reading from a script. "In appreciation of your servitude, you will be protected and bound by my name and position. You will take orders from no one other than myself and passed orders from Clair who, I guess, you have already had the pleasure of meeting. You will do as I say when I say it. And in doing so, you will pass your initiation without a problem. Break the conditions, I will make you factionless." From the same drawer, he pulls a colored blue piece of paper. "Sign here."

Whether he keeps the paper close to him and his hand fractions from hers for anything other than intimidating reasons, she'll never know or ask. But she can smell his aftershave mixed with something else as well as smoke. Sarah guesses he's a smoker from how it lingered on him.

She hesitates before signing her name, then looking up to his eyes, she asks, "Can I say something? ...Sir." He bites his lip, and nods. "I thought I was here to…clean… maybe some filing…"

Eric's slate eyes glint before he exhales slowly. "You were very much misguided then." Sarah stands rigid, hands clasped as per usual and stares at him expectantly. "Wait outside. Take in the scenery and get used to it. I have phone calls to make."

"Yes, sir."

Sarah can feel her head bowing in tiredness, her legs aching from standing, the balls of her feet numb and hot. She briefly wondered if this was some sort of physical or mental challenge, but from his raised voice and every so often thumping on the table, she guessed otherwise.

Her stomach growled wildly too, and her mouth watered at the sandwich Clair ate behind her desk. Her mouth almost moving in sync with Clair's…

The door suddenly flies open and Eric storms out of it. "Stiff!" Is his only command and obediently she follows. "Hold this." He shoves a folder in her hands. "This is yours." The phone she had already forgotten about makes her cringe and she pockets it quickly. She stares ahead while they wait for the elevator in complete silence.

They step in and she turns her head to avoid the mirrors, hearing Eric mumble humorously under his breath. "Fucking stiffs…"

He leads her with curious stares from passers-by to the Mess hall. But that's where she stops, gripping the papers to her chest. She can't really be eating in there with...them.

"Now, stiff." Eric holds the door impatiently, glaring at her. Through the gap in his arm, she sees the rows of tables and sultry clad bodies inside. The hairstyles in there were just beyond her, and they jump around like crickets, table to table, shouting, swearing, pushing each other around.

"I'm not hungry, I'll wait…" she stammers, her eyes wide as a deer. Eric sniffs, wiping his top lip with his thumb before marching towards her, gripping her arm painfully and drags her. Abnegation didn't like touching at the best of times, and the force he uses has her stunned in silence. She's never been handled roughly in her life.

Pushing her forward, he keeps a grip on her bicep and whispers tightly over her shoulder for only her to hear, "You will learn…" He tugs on her when she doesn't respond straight away.

"Sorry, sir." Sarah didn't really know what she was apologizing for, it was an automatic trait.

"Now go sit with the others." He motions to the other five Abnegation members, yanking the papers from her hands and disappears into the crowd.

The other members here move up respectfully for her to join them. They are very much older and seem used to the noise and constant movement. They don't say anything, just share the food.

At least like this, she could pretend she was back in their quiet holdings.

Once she finishes, she drinks slowly from her cup, daring to look over her shoulder, something the others haven't done since she's been sitting there. She makes the mistake of landing on the loudest table, one of the members catching her inquisitiveness and nudges the person next to him. Sarah whips her head back to the table, silently cursing herself.

A heavy hand lands on her shoulder, making her flinch and automatically the Abnegation around her stand and quickly saunter off with their heads down. It never really crossed her mind at first, but she was the youngest, and female, and very much naive.

"Alright, stiff. Thought we'd join you. You looked awfully lonely."

She tries to stand but the hand pins her firmly down in her seat as the heavy Dauntless straddles one leg over the bench. The guy looks a few years older than her, and cut like the many men she'd already seen.

"Thanks, but I have to go…" She tries shrugging him off but the grip tightens, fingers digging into her skin through the thin fabric of her gray cardigan.

"What do you think of this one, Badge?" He speaks to his friend who seats himself opposite. Sarah's eyes slide across to him to try and memorize both of their faces if she needed to. "She's one hundred percent, that's for sure." She could only take guesses on what they were talking about. Shifting slightly, she tries to create a little distance as his legs bump against hers, something she wasn't comfortable with. "I give her two days."

"I think five, she's got a little fire in her I think, as far as stiffs go."

A shadow melts over the table and Sarah looks up gratefully to Eric glaring down at them. "Stiff," is all he says, and she stands, this time without any interruption and unhooks her legs from the bench. They only make it through the doors when Eric suddenly turns to her, shoving her shoulder. "What was that?"

She frowns, her mouth opening briefly in confusion. "Was what? Sir."

"That's going to happen a lot. Are you going to sit there and take it?" When she doesn't reply, he shoves her again, a little more harshly, uncaring for her small frame and probably delicate mind. "Well?"

"I…don't know… I've never been in that situation before. Abnegation are against open affection and-"

"Don't you think I know? I'm asking you a simple question." He shoves her again, watching as she tries to regain balance and pulling her gray cardigan back across her shoulder which is marred with pink furious skin from his hands.

"Please don't-"

"I do what I want with you. You are officially my property until I see a reason to get rid of you."

"But, I'm a person…"

His face drops and she instantly regrets it, swallowing thickly. That was not meant to fall from her lips. Her father's words had been playing on her mind, 'Not a person, an object.' Then his use of 'property' like he owned her.

His fingers splay a twisting grip on her wrist and he drags her with him, making for the elevator and shoving her inside when it calls. They don't get off on the second floor. They ride to the top, then following a set of stairs till they're out on the roof. The wind whips up pieces of her hair from her bun and she takes a step back in the fire exit doorway.

"Stiff!" he calls her towards him without looking.

Reluctantly, she finds herself directly behind him and he turns quickly, gripping her neck and walking her back towards the edge. "Let's get things straight. I do what I want with you." Her hand's scramble at his forearms, digging into his skin as his hold tightens. "I know you have two sisters and brother. If you can't get yourself straight with the general threat of yourself winding up factionless, maybe if we had something to do with their future, it will make you more compliant."

"This is nothing to do with them!" Her voice raises, high-pitched and despairing. It's exactly what he wanted, some sort of leverage. Her love for family will have to do. "It's my fault. Sir, please," she begs, unsure of exactly what she was begging for and also for what she had even done in the first place. "I'm sorry. Please…"

In all honesty, Eric would never leave her factionless. It was one more added to the rats. If he couldn't make her submit to him, then he'd most likely kill her instead and that would be a damn shame. With his hand around her scrawny neck and her begging plight, his dick twitched.

"Here's a piece of advice, don't talk back to me. And next time you find yourself in that situation, you will say you are my property. Do you understand?" He shakes her. "I told you, didn't I, that you were bound by my position and I can't allow you to be undermined by anyone, especially since you'll be spending bountiful time with me and especially since you are now mine."

Sarah is sure she is now covered in bruises, but she reads the hidden message well regardless. "Yes, sir."

He pulls her back from the edge. "Oh and Sarah. Next time, I might not rescue you…" He shoves her, her feet buckling on the concrete and legs hitting the small wall as she topples over it backward.

She's tumbling down with a swift scream realizing at the last moment he's pushed her over the edge and most likely killed her anyway.

She's caught though by a net and bounces a few times, throwing her arms out either side to brace herself. Eric knew the net was there and was just screwing with her. Every threat she knew was real, though. This was just enforcing it, showing her how quickly he could rid of her if he really wanted to.

Sarah lets herself cry a little, from fright, from the situation, from now being classed as a working dog for Dauntless.

Why had her mother never warned her of the monster she was now tied to?

Probably as an act of more punishment, he has her stand outside his office. Clair would sometimes look at her but not say anything.

Sarah felt like she was back at school, being punished for talking and sent outside the class. No doubt he was trying to break her. And seemingly it was starting to work.

When the elevator rings from further down the hall. A woman strolls down in high heels and a small skirt, her boobs taut from the tightness of her top. Sarah tries not to stare.

"Eric in?" she says, completely unbothered why Sarah was standing there and she nods, not meeting her eyes.

The woman knocks, followed by a sharp "Yes?" from inside. Sarah watches her walk in, closing the door slowly.

Twenty minutes later she can hear them, the desk hammering the floor and muffled moans. Clair doesn't look up and Sarah wants nothing more than to walk away. He knew she'd be standing outside and fully able to hear.

The only thing she can do is block it out, humming to herself.

A half hour later the door opens and the woman walks out with Eric following behind her. His eyes watch her ass and he flattens out the disgruntled collar of his jacket. When she disappears in the elevator, he finally looks down at Sarah.

"Clean my office. Cupboard." And he sets off in the same direction.

The office doesn't really need tidying, but she opens the windows, finding disinfectant and spraying every possible surface. It was actually enjoyable, it was something to do, something to take her mind off of it and reminded her of being at home. Outside it's getting dark and she has no idea what the time is or whether her father would be waiting for her.

She hums loudly to herself. Realizing she's not going to get reprimanded, she lets the words spill from her lips, just like she would when cleaning the house with the help of her sisters. Singing was not an Abnegation trait, but she had heard a beautiful Amity woman sing on the streets as a child, fascinated by how everybody lost themselves and when she tried, her mother encouraged her. Then she began singing solo to her sisters in the bedroom before bed and now it was a habit.

"My apple tree, my brightness, it's time we were together, for I smell the earth, and am worn by the weather… When my family thinks, that I'm safely in my bed, oh from morn' until night, I'm stretched at your head-"

With her back bent over the draws near the window when the door slams behind her, she jumps, spinning, rag in hand. Eric's eyes are dark, matching the grayness of the walls.

"I'm sorry Mr. Coulter. I didn't-"

"You sing?" He breaks his intense stare and walks behind his desk, lobbing some sort of key clattering on the top that fills the silence between them.

"I try… It won't happen again…" Heading back to the cupboard because her face is flush and she's scared of another assault, she puts away the products. Turning to leave, she jumps back again, because he's standing directly behind her. For a big guy, he can be silent if he really wanted to be.

Eric expressively rolls his head around the small cupboard. "It's awfully cramped in here." Before meeting the blue frosting he described for her eyes. She can barely look at him and he figures it's to do with the small session he had in here earlier. He notices her hands tremble and at the same time, she grips them together, snapping him from his scouring. There are dotted bruises on her neck, barely visible fingerprints to the side that looked like blemishes, but they were from his hands. He smirks to himself at how easy it was to inflict damage on her and in a sickening way, he wanted to mark more of the pretty skin in front of him.

When he lifts his hand, she scrunches her eyes closed, bracing herself. Sarah feels his fingertips brush against her neck, gripping her stomach sickeningly, unforgiving for threats and multiple sores he had left on her in just one day. His index finger just reaches her collarbone, when he stops. "You can go."

She doesn't need telling twice. But he makes her brush passed him on her exit, turning her head and briefly wondering if he was going to change his mind.

"Mr. Coulter," she says in a brief farewell.

"Miss. Bennett."