There are Dauntless teammates scattered throughout fields, hanging from trees, hiding behind huts, and Wendy’s taken out more Candor soldiers than she can count. But over the years, that fear of feeling blood splutter over the back of her fist has completely escaped her. This is the routine she was destined to live through, and as long as she reminds herself it’s for the Greater Good, no suited up Candor smart mouths can get in her way.

It’s no overwhelming challenge, either. Her and her team have lived lives training for battle, fighting at the brink of extremes and getting a real taste for it, whereas these Candor soldiers spent more time debating, shaking hands. With a sweep of her gun, she’s successful maimed eight soldiers suited in respectable black and white armour in a row. Her wrist is aching, but she ignores the pain - nothing broken, yet, no lost limbs, no news of a teammate down feeding into her helmet’s earpiece in a mad flurry. As far as she knows, this battle is coming up roses.

It’s then that she remembers what the premium goal is for her being in Amity; protecting civilians and their land. In an instant, she sends her location in a hush through her mouthpiece, flipping a dark switch on the little Action Film she has going on and moving more into a domesticated area.

As far as she knows, she can only see Amity people, dressed in bright and joyful bursts of crimson and amber. Why would Candor people attack here, anyway, on civilians instead of faction representatives? Unless to pick a verbal fight? But, as Dauntless, Wendy believes that human reason has the ability to excuse any evil, and she should therefore take any spoken debates apart too.

In her peripheral vision there’s a sharp stamp of heavily suited black and white, so Wendy advances, taking deep care in her powerful footsteps with a bullet strap wrapped across her torso. The first thing she notices is a flurry of bright, red hair on this soldier, as red as fire, artificial and odd to see on someone from Candor but agreeably enticing.

And the moment she sees the tall female soldier close to Kang Seulgi and other surrounding Amity members, by instinct she raises her gun. However, a trigger in her conscience convinces her not to shoot, like the matter is by no means dangerous enough to result in such extremes. She blinks the sweat off her brow, too focused to wipe it off with her grubby hand, and with each blink her mind and vision clears.

Turns out, the soldier was actually just leading the Amity members to safety, a stray from her fellow Candor troops. Weird, Wendy thinks, but she’s no less than grateful. Wendy thinks to learn to trust anyone with fiery hair from now on. Internally she’s always had an artistic flare, associating colours with motives, ideas. That same fiery red now equates to protection.

But now Wendy can’t concentrate fully because Seulgi’s warm smile is flickering strongly over her mind. She thinks of her kindness, excitement, and unsaid bravery in times of war. Soldier Down. Her mind trickles into images of her beauty, illuminated by a beating, unchanging sun. Shoot. And Wendy, inside, desperately hopes there’ll be another day when she can spot Seulgi amongst her faction members again, maybe exchange a glance or a word with her and her gleaming eyes. Two Soldiers Down. Advance To Next Position.

Not that she’s locked herself into any real attachment, though, of course, especially not across factions. Every fibre of Wendy’s being knows that’s dangerous.

The Candor have retreated back to their faction for the day, so Wendy’s waiting for the train to flurry past, absorbed within a crowd of fellow noisy Dauntless.

“Hey, Leader- Wendy,” her ears pick the voice up distinctly though it’s so calm and quiet in comparison, and she turns around to see no one other than Seulgi. She’s caught off guard a bit, and conscious of their respectable distance for now. “I saw you back there, before, around the huts.”

“What, fighting?” Wendy puffs out her cheeks, a tendency of hers, eyes wandering across every single inch of Seulgi’s delicate yet impressionable face.

Seulgi’s face falls for a split second. “Oh, after you’d be fighting a lot.” It’s unnatural for her to talk about war themes explicitly without her voice turning bitter, spitting out the words with distaste. Soon enough, though, Seulgi’s beaming at her again. “You saw Sooyoung surrounding us and decided against harming her.”

Wendy’s touched that she picked up on this, and when her cheeks redden it’s probably just because in Amity it’s more humid. “She was protecting you. I’d be the monster if I shot her down.” Wendy says, adjusting her helmet.

“You’re so clever,” Seulgi sends out into the open before continuing what she’s saying, and Wendy’s so taken aback by her casual compliment that her breathing hitches. “Thanks for not harming Sooyoung, really. Before she moved to Candor years ago we were pretty close. She’s not so inconsiderate like her kind.”

Wendy’s starting to think Seulgi has some sort of fond connection with everyone she’s encountered as she waves off her gratitude, with the hand not sliding her gun back into her pouch, “It’s no problem, really. Just doing my job.” She’s not quite so aware of the presence of anyone else anymore until she hears Seunghoon snicker beside her, unused to such detachment and modesty, so she gives him a friendly kick in the shin.

His incredibly faked cry of pain dies out in a second. “Nice to meet you, Wendy.” Seulgi extends her arms into a hug while the train chugs over the horizon, and Wendy thinks it’s some sort of random, weird threat until she remembers it to be an Amity ritual.

“Uh, any time.” Wendy says, leaning in and being enveloped by so much friendliness and warmth she could suffocate, her arms feeling so protective and strong around Seulgi’s petite frame. But then Seulgi’s taller than her, and Wendy’s hyper aware of how heavily her heart is beating, so the hug doesn’t last too long.

“Do I get a hug?” Seunghoon asks cheekily, before Wendy laughs sarcastically and drags him onto the treacherous train as it races past.

The train grinded across the Dauntless Headquarters’ rooftops a slight bit more painfully this time. It’s screeching and the wind floods inwards with the clouded sounds of wispy gravel, and Wendy almost mentions it to the guard beside her until she wonders if it’s all just her imagination. Because to her dislike, the image of Seulgi hasn’t slipped her mind, not even by a fraction.

They’re back to obtain more weapons, train up, get some new healing serums into their systems or brag to friends or ink in a new victory tattoo, or whatever these ridiculous Dauntless customs are that Wendy’s been a rich part of since she transferred years ago. Sometimes Wendy just wants to get a good night’s rest, but Dauntless leaders are supposed to give off this impression of never needing sufficient sleep. They gain all of their strength from the excitement of courage and bravery. But she shakes it all from her head, flashing a confident and winning smile at all of the faction members who follow their entrance as they walk through to the Pit.

As those suited in heavy, black armour infiltrate into a dense, loud and partially drunk crowd, she stays back and sends a finger to the switch on her mouthpiece. “Hey, Hyeri?”

The reply rings through her earpiece energetically and instantly. So Hyeri’s actually in the control room and doing her job, then. “What’s up, snowman?”

Wendy’s pierced eyebrows furrow in a grimace when she hears her not-so-beloved nickname, almost growling down the mouthpiece, but she lets it pass. “Can you contact the weapon makers by the dining hall? We need to stock up.”

Hyeri laughs for no reason in a way that just seems so inarguably Hyeri, and Wendy can almost see her ridiculously animated nod. “You’ve got it, captain.” she says, audaciously, before Wendy feels a slight buzz in her ear and fades back into Dauntless clamour.

She’s a socialite, so she doesn’t quite make it to the weapon maker unit without a long racket of a conversation with whoever came up to her and a slight knock of tipsiness in her step. Not that manners have ever been a Dauntless priority, so she’s conscious that no one cares.

In front of the steel workshop and having an animated conversation with the craftswomen, she spots a tousle of messily braided, honey-coloured hair and trainee clothing, and recognises it to be Yeri.

“Wendy, hey.” The craftswomen, Amber, picks her up in the distance within a second of her striding in. Her cropped hair is blonde, too, but more of an unusual yellow. It’s usually dank underground in Dauntless, but her diamond-encrusted septum piercing catches the torch lights as she throws her head back. “I’ll be with you in like, two seconds.” she grins, and they flash each other an ‘OK’ sign.

Yeri turns around too, greeting her with her trademark smile, gleeful like Amity but bold like Dauntless.

“Long time no see.” Wendy says, her voice with a tone of husk to it as she slides into the conversation. She rests her elbow on Amber’s workbench.

Yeri shrugs, “It’s only been a couple of days.” Which was strange because it had only been a couple of days, yet with this new instalment of Yeri’s childhood courtesy of Kang Seulgi, Wendy feels like it’s been decades without the promising teen.

And there comes the flood again, images of Seulgi and her sunny glow hanging dense on Wendy’s thick heart.

While Amber ducks back into her Supply Keep, tattoos like comic-strips evidently scrawled over the backs of her legs as she gallops off, Wendy hums, letting her thoughts settle. “So, what brings you here?” she queries.

“Yura’s the new stand-in initiate trainer, and she says I’d made a great fighter for entertainment, so I’m trying to find the weapon best for me.”

Wendy her head a little, her mind encrypted. “Nah,” she shakes her head, making sure to look right into the focus point of Yeri’s youthful eyes, “Don’t always trust Yura’s judgement. I mean, don’t talk back to your trainer, but keep your mind open. I see there being way better options for you than an entertainer with how you’re doing.”

“Really?” Yeri chirps, and Wendy smiles with another assuring hum, a part of her feeling oddly like a mother. Meanwhile she catches the jingle of metal bracelets, and notices Amber bouncing back through the workshop doors.

“Honestly. Hell, you could be a Dauntless leader.” She raises her eyebrows, and though she only caught that last bit of the conversation Amber laughs, slapping Yeri playfully on the shoulder.

A clang of rifles and blades hit onto the workbench countertop, and then they’re divided orderly. “You’d best not go bragging off to your friends, though.” Amber chimes in, humour still evident in her way of speaking.

“She won’t.” Wendy turns her back to the initiate in order to discuss with Amber and sighs, content. But she makes sure Yeri hears the last part. “I trust her.” She really does. And not that she’d admit it to herself just yet, but especially since meeting Seulgi.

Amber guides her through the cost of a mass order of Chiappa Rhino 50DS revolvers, giving a couple to Wendy for her to hold. They continue the conversation with Wendy subconsciously caressing its chrome plating and toying with its barrel, but she keeps a trained eye on the custom-made pistols and rifles Amber’s offering.

“The rifle,” Wendy bunches both revolvers in one cautious hand to point, “Does it have an integral suppressor?”

Amber’s cordial grin is the brightest thing in the room, and she swaps it over with the revolvers in Wendy’s grip, its body large, well-structured and cleanly plated. “See for yourself.”

Wendy takes this as a signal to point and fire at any random wall, so she does, admiring how it accompanies with many other bullet holes in the grey stone. The sound isn’t rusty or eardrum shattering, it’s quite light. The damage done successfully but the sound only hidden, tinny.

“I’m guessing so, then.” The faction leader smirks, handing it back. “And it fires semi-automatic. So I suppose I’ll save it for the big guys.”

Amber nods, slipping all of the needed weaponry and ammunition into a large, leather mat with pockets, adding a few blades, sickles and vials of healing serum wherever there was space. Yeri’s still watching her handy work, keenly, so Wendy doesn’t think she’ll notice if she stares at her.

She’s got two new piercings on her earlobes, she notices. One is a bright, burning red stud, and the other’s a ring that crawls across the underside of her ear. Her ears don’t have as much of a pointed tip to them, they’re petite; from what her mind’s been trying to trace, Kang Seulgi has pointed ears. They’re somewhat majestic.

It dawns on her then that she probably couldn’t go back to initiate training for a while afterwards, because Yeri’s association with Seulgi only reminds her of the Amity girl and how her heart is undeniably swollen. And it hurts too much.

A/N: I wanted to post this as soon as I was somewhere with the third chapter, which is quite a bit more lengthy so that'll hopefully be up in the next few days. Thank you so much for your lovely and interesting comments so far, I'm really glad to be writing again ;^^; There's something so exciting about writing a crossover fic in particular.