#can you shut the fuck up. because in the last 3 days you’ve told me that not only did i deserve the comment.

[bbyquokka]

blow me instead?

– “Why should I blow out the candles, when you can just blow me instead?” prompt

pairing | lee felix x gender-neutral reader

genre | smut – 18+ is strongly advised!

cw | established relationship ; dom felix ; oral sex (blowjob) ; finger sucking ; cum swallowing ; deep throating

words | 2.6k ~ ( 2,693 ) + 2 fake texts !

notes | a lil smth for felix's bday. jisung's will be posted at a later date when i've finished it :( don’t forget to leave feedback, reblog and tell me what you think here. i hope you all enjoy! ‹3

m.list — wips list — you can also read it on my ao3

dont repost. dont translate. minors, ageless & default blogs; dni! feedback and reblogs are highly advised and appreciated!

you forgot. you’ve forgotten the most important day of the year and you are currently kicking yourself for it. it’s felix’s birthday, the one day of the year that you look forward to every single year – but for some unknown reason, this year you forgot.

maybe it’s because you’ve both been really busy that you haven’t given it a second thought. you’re always well prepared for things like this, but this year it slipped your mind.

you knew you forgotten something but you couldn't tell what. you had that nagging feeling in the back of your mind but you pushed it to the side. “i’ll figure it out later” you always told yourself only to forget – once again.

it wasn't until the day before, did you looked at your calendar and see ‘15th sept’ circled and decorated in hearts, labelled ‘felix’s bday!!’ did you panic. that nagging feeling quickly turned into a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. worry and panic washing over you and coating your skin in a cold sweat.

it was way into the night to go to the store to pick something up. everything was closed. you thought about making him something but realised that you don't have the materials to do so. so a quick search on the web was your last resort. you hoped you could find something that would do next day delivery but alas, after several hours of searching and drawing up blanks, did you accept your fate.

you woke up the day of his birthday, feeling guilty and it's eating you alive. you don't think you'd be able to face to him without bursting into tears.

“i should at least wish him a happy birthday.” you mumble. you take your phone from the night stand and open up felix's contact. your thumb hovers over the green circle. 

you hesitate. lips pursed together. you overthink. you can hear his sullen tone of voice. you can see his facial expressions twisted into sadness. your heart aches and feels tight, like someone is gripping onto it.

“fuck. i can't.” you throw your phone onto the bed beside you, watching it bounce from impact before rubbing your face with your hands and groaning. “maybe a shower will help me. i’ll call him then!” 

you didn't call him. in fact, you spent the whole day avoiding him. you did pop to the store and buy a small box of cupcakes and some candles. you had this idea of surprising him by turning up at his place with a fancy birthday cake, thinking it's better than nothing,  but when the store only had cupcakes to offer, that idea was quick to fizzle out.

the cakes are now sitting on the counter, untouched and unopened. you're in your lounge wear on the sofa, TV on but you're not tuned into whatever show it's playing. instead, you're on your social media, looking at what felix has been up to the whole day.

pictures of felix with chan, jisung and hyunjin. birthday wishes from friends and family flood his profiles. you're glad he's had a good day but that guilt just won't go away. 

you've shamelessly avoided him the whole day because you couldn't face him. it's cowardly of you and you know it, but in a way, you just shut off.

you rush to your feet. your sock covered soles slapping against the floor as you rush to the door. you open it and come face to face with a not so pleased looking felix.

'“i see you're still alive.” you swallow. he sounds irritated. he's angry at you and you don't blame him.

“felix, i–”

“are you going to let me in or are we just going to stand out in the hallway?” he cuts you off. you look down at your feet and shuffle to the side, opening the door wider for him.

he walks in, kicking off his shoes and hanging up his coat as you close the door behind him. he notices the unopened cupcakes and pack of birthday candles by the side of them.

“so?” he starts as he looks at you. your chin is tucked into your chest, fingers fiddling with one another. you feel like a child about to be told off by a parent.

“i'm so sorry, felix.” you start, keeping your eyes glued to your feet. you don't want to make eye contact with him because the guilt of forgetting is eating you alive. it's making you feel incredibly nauseous.

“for?” his arms crossed against his chest as he looks down at you, brow raised. his authoritative and dominant aura seeps out from his pores and clouds you, suffocating you in the process.

“... i–uh…” you start, words lodged in your throat. felix lets out a small, irritated sigh. “I forgot about your birthday.” 

your voice is small and cracks. you furiously blink back the tears that are threatening to spill from your lower lash line.

“you forgot?” you nod slowly. “is that why you've been avoiding me?” you nod again. “why?”

“because i thought you'd be angry at me… like right now.” felix runs his fingers through his hair slowly.

“i’m not angry that you forgot. it happens. i’m angry because you avoided me on my birthday.”

“i know.. i’m sorry.” you look up at him and chew your bottom lip. the cupcakes catch the corner of your eye. you rush to then, opening them and the candles before sticking one in the middle of the cake.

felix follows you and watches you with eager eyes. his gaze suddenly feels hot. he licks his lips as he admires your body, eyes flickering up and down.

he's undressing you with his eyes. 

you turn around, holding the cupcake in your hand with the candle flame flickering. you present it in front of felix and smile.

“i got you cupcakes though. i know it's not much but i couldn't find anything on such short notice…” felix simply hums and looks at the cake, then you. “are you not going to blow it out?” you question after some seconds pass.

felix leans in close. his lips brush against the shell of your ear as his voice drops and becomes low and deep. his warm breath fans against your ear as he speaks.

“why should i blow out the candles when you can just blow me instead?” 

goosebumps ripple along your skin. your heart suddenly starts racing. his breath feels ticklish against your ear, body temperature suddenly rising

“f-felix!” you squeak as he pulls back, finding amusement at your shocked facial expression. 

“i assume you didn't get me a gift so i can consider a blowjob as one. and if you do a good job, maybe i’ll let you off the hook for avoiding me on my special day.” 

“i–” you swallow a little, the heat from the candle is radiating onto your chin, adding to the increase of your own body temperature.

felix keeps his brow raised before trailing his hand down his torso to his groin where he squeezes and groans softly.

you can't take your eyes off him. you watch his hand squeeze and palm himself through his jeans. his veins bulging from his hands and arms. 

he kicks his head back a little, lips parting and giving you a view of his outstretched neck. his adams apple bobbing with his swallows. soft moan and grunts leaving his parted lips.

“don't just stand there.” his deep voice brings you back down to reality. “blow me.”

you place the cake down on the counter (after you blow out the candle) before kneeling in front of felix. he looks down at you. his dominate aura making you feel small and vulnerable but excited.

you can feel the pit of your stomach tingle and bubble with excitement. warmth coating your groin. the tips of your fingers and toes feel electric from the surging feeling of excitement that's mixed in with hormones.

you reach up and slide your hands up and under his t-shirt. his warm skin hugs the tips of your fingers. the sturdiness of his abs flexing and tensing with his stomach moving in time with his breathing.

you feel his smooth skin, tracing his muscles with your fingers. the only thing that isn't smooth, however, is the small, yet noticeable happy trail that runs from his belly button and disappears below his jean waistband.

“mhm..” felix hums softly, your touch giving him goosebumps. you move your hands lower until they come into contact with the rough fabric of his denim jeans.

you look up at him, asking for permission with your eyes to which he gives with a nod of his head.

you unbutton and unzip his jeans slowly, revealing that he is wearing black designer boxer shorts. you notice how his bulge is slowly, but surely, getting bigger with each passing second as he anticipates and waits.

you pull his jeans down to his knees. you press the palm of your hand against his crotch, massaging him slowly. he huffs. his cock twitching against the palm of your hand.

you give him a few gentle squeezes. your touch is too gentle for his liking so he looks down again you with glossy eyes.

“harder.”

you oblige by wrapping your fingers around his clothed length and squeezing, hard. his hips buck slightly and a soft, deep moan falls from his lips.

you feel his warm hand pressing against your cheek as his fingers graze along your jawline before bumping against your bottom lip.

he slowly strokes your lip, chewing on his own. 

“look at me.” you look up at him, making eye contact. two of his fingers nudge between your lips, gently pushing past them as you part them.

“good.” he whispers as his fingers caress your tongue. your brows furrow together, lips wrapping around the two digits as you suck. your saliva coats felix's fingers thoroughly whilst he pushes them further into your mouth until they're fully encapsulated in the warmth of your mouth.

the hand that around his clothed length has slowed down and is now loosely gripping him. your groin feels hot and excited, tingles in your stomach as felix explores the inside of your mouth with his two fingers before pulling them out slowly.

he gives a satisfying ‘hm’ before instructing you to continue with the nod of his head.

you whimper a little and reach up with both hands, grabbing the waistband of his boxer shorts. your fingertips brush against his hot skin, causing felix to shiver and huff in excitement.

you slowly pull down his underwear, revealing his happy train and v-lines slowly before his erect penis is revealed, bouncing and twitching at the sudden cold air hitting his hot shaft.

felix lets out a small breath of relief. the feeling of being restrained is no longer an issue. his hips buck slightly as you wrap your hand around the base of his shaft, stroking it slowly.

you watch the man above you slowly crumble. his penis twitching, pre-cum leaking from his slit. his shaft is hot against the palm of your hand, tip red and a few veins protruding along the sides.

your hand glides up and down his penis, rotating at the top. you use the pad of your thumb to gently rub his tip, smearing the pre-cum and making his tip glisten.

the sensitivity gets to felix. his hips rocking a little in your hand against his will, thigh muscles noticeable twitching. his head flops to the side slightly, half-lidded eyes looking down at you and watching your every move.

you lean in and lick the side of his shaft a few times before pressing your tongue against his tip and swiping it several times. his salty pre-cum coats your tastes buds, making you feel more excited.

you rub your thighs together as the heat in your groin is unbearable at this point. you're desperate for some sort of friction and attention but you're too into pleasuring felix. with the way felix is right now, you know he is going to be selfish and chase his own high.

your free hand cups and caresses his balls. felix hums softly as you roll and squeeze them gently in your hand whilst kitten licking his tip.

“c’mon, baby. you know i need more than that.” 

you close your eyes as you wrap your lips around his tip. felix shudders and huffs a little, his teeth digging into his bottom lip. you gently suckle on his tip, swirling your tongue around it a few times before slowly lowering your head and pushing more of him into your mouth.

the corner of your lips feels stretched, mouth stuffed. you try to make your jaw slack but even that is a struggle with how thick and long felix is.

you struggle to put half of his length in, settling with a little under. you can feel his tip bumping the back of your throat and saliva is quick to accumulate in your mouth.

felix huffs and puffs, body shuddering and twitching. he reaches down and runs his fingers through your hair a few times. 

you start to bob your head slowly. your hand stroking what your mouth struggles to reach. the head and hand move in synch with each other, providing equally, if not more, pleasure to felix.

he feels the pleasure rushing through his veins and burning. his toes curl against the floorboards and his grip on your hair tightening with each suck as a way to keep him stable and grounded.

“...fuck … baby, m-more..” he pants.

you oblige, increasing speed and intensity. felix's moans become more intense and breathy. his body and mind failing to comprehend the intense feeling of warmth and wetness from your mouth as well as the coolness of your palm.

“... oh fuck.. yes… so fucking good…” 

this just encourages you even more. you remove your hand and place them both on his thighs for stability. you push your head further down his length until you can feel it down your throat.

you hold back your gag reflex, swallowing a few times to tighten your throat around him. felix lets out a string of incoherent moans and whispers. 

your jaw hurts. your lips hurts. your knees hurt and you can't breath but listening to felix whimper and crumble makes it all worth.

you feel him twitch in your mouth. his hips thrusting involuntarily. he's a mess and he's close.

his balls are tightening and his body is coated in a thin layer of sweat. the sensitivity of his cock head is overbearing. 

“don’t stop.. 'm close..” he struggles to say between his moaning. his strangled moans mix in with the sloppy, wet sounds of your mouth. 

he lowers his head, chin tucked into chest as he whimpers. a string of “fuck” leaves his lips as he grips onto you. it doesnt take him long. his cock twitches in your mouth, hot fluid coating your tongue and throat.

felix whimpers and whines, huffing and puffing. his body twitches and jerks. you help him ride out his orgasm before slowly pulling away. 

you look up at him, making eye contact as you swallow. felix shudders and strokes your swollen bottom lip, saliva collecting on the pad of his thumb.

“you did good, yn.” with felix's help, you rise to your feet. the numb feeling of pain on your knees becoming more noticeable now that your legs are outstretched.

“does this mean i’m forgiven?” you mumble. felix nods and strokes your hair gently.

“sorta.” you look at him slightly confused. “my birthday isn't over just yet, yn.”

“true… so, what do you want?” 

felix takes you by the hand and drags you to the bedroom. he gently throws you onto the bed, stripping himself of his clothing as you lean on your forearms and watch.

“i want so much more.” he purrs as he crawls onto the bed, towering over you and kissing the shell of your ear.

“i’m a greedy man, yn. you should know that a blowjob is not nearly enough to satisfy me.”

[carmenized-onions]

Loosen Your Grip. | R & D

logline; even when it seems counter-intuitive.

[!!!] series history; so many parts, so many words.

Spotify Playlist, if you like to listen while you read. I listen to it when I write :) Constantly gettin’ added to. 8 hour mark officially! Lets go!

portion; 15k knowing the next chapters, this trend isn't going to change. they have started to line up with the chapter number, to my chagrin.

possible allergies; i think this one is relatively harmless? Stress though. Everyone's stressed. Idk what to tell you man, it's the bear. oh but more things were yoinked from Season 3!! Think that's just gonna be ongoing tbh. also if this is bad don't tell me. tell me it's really good, actually. i've never doubted a chapter more than I do this one.

pairing; Carmen ‘Carmy’ Berzatto & Fem Reader it's so fem. it's so she/her'd it's so girl'd i'm so sorry

kofi; if you’ve enjoyed the series, perhaps you wanna tip!

i'm so sorry for the delays beloveds, can you say 'most high stress but high reward month and a half of my life'? i can!!!

The Monday morning after New York— The first morning waking up in your own bed in a day or two— Comes rudely. Well, not immediately. First you have to roll over and grab aimlessly at your nightstand, searching for your phone to turn off your alarm. Through blurred vision you slide it to snooze, and as you debate going back to bed, your eyes glaze over some texts you’ve received in your sleep, from numbers you never bothered to put in your contacts. It takes a minute to absorb the information and register it as real, but once you do—

“...Are you fucking kidding me?!” 

—You’re definitely not gonna be heading back to bed anymore. You’re wide-eyed and wired— You can probably skip coffee this morning. Maybe every morning forever.

“Oh— I fucking hate this fucking city, I fucking hate Chicago— Fuck this!” 

In lieu of coming to terms with your world shattering news, perhaps this is an important moment to express gratitude, for the things that have gone well in the past few days. 

The rest of the weekend in New York was as lovely as a last-minute trip in a cramped car full of kitchen equipment and four neurotics can be.

Gratitude. Highlight reel?

There’s a bag M and Ms monogrammed with Syd’s, Richie’s, Carmy’s, and your faces in your pantry now. Eva shouldn’t be the only one allowed to have fun. Though snacking on all your cute little faces does make you feel like a slight monster.

Managed to get a good gift for Richie. Thank you Tiffanys. It was certainly an interesting moment when everyone tried to come up with lame excuses as to why they had to split up from the group to definitely totally not go get Christmas presents.

 Carmen’s knife guy wasn’t able to do engravings on such short notice, and you’re not the type to settle for less, especially not with Syd, so that’ll be a next year gift, it seems. You came up with a serviceable back-up while strolling through the MET— Which was a mostly fun field trip, it was very inspiring. You all could've done without Richie's pretentious prattling about postmodern absurdist dadaism. Mostly because you're pretty sure half of it was wrong; but still a good trip, all told.

Still lost on what to get Carmen… You’ve got a week, it’s fine. You’ve done more with less before. How do you subtly ask a guy, ‘hey, what the hell else do you like besides your job?’ You’ll figure it out. Figure it out like you figure out everything else, like you always do. Hopefully.

It's Monday. You've got a week. It's fine. Stop looking at your phone. This is such bad timing. This is awful fucking timing. You’ll figure it out. Stop looking at your phone, stop looking at the texts. Do the Connections, send it to Carmy, he already sent his, be normal… Just such bad timing—

At the very least if you can't bear to look away from the life ruining texts, just shut your phone off. You’ve got to stop ruminating or you’ll rot in bed forever. And you really have to get out on time, today. 

“God wants me to kill myself—” Gratitude. Express gratitude.

The drive back went ‘well’. Everyone had their licenses so the squad took shifts either driving or sitting on the uncomfortable console. Or, in your case specifically, sitting half on Carmen’s lap in shotgun on occasion despite the many complaints from Syd and Richie. You had a good excuse! Neither of you slept for the entire trip just to work on the cocktail and coffee menu. It was practically a sacrifice! It was just easier to sit up front together, okay!? You had to be close, you were scribbling ratios and drawings of glasses into a stolen notepad from the Holiday Inn with pencil crayons bought from FAO Schwarz—

Oh, hey, put that on the gratitude scoreboard, that was another thing that went well. Pretty cool to go to the oldest toy store in America. Might not have gotten the chef in your life anything yet, but the kids in your life are covered— You’re winning best Aunt for sure.

Oh, huge highlight— Didn’t say love you, like some idiot. Got away with that by the skin of your teeth, honestly. Hard to stare up at the Rockefeller Christmas Tree next to the guy and not blurt out something fucking stupid. Thank God for Syd, who stomped on your foot when you seemed a little too doe eyed.

With great pain and bemoaning, you finish expressing gratitude, which hasn’t helped much. You slam your phone screen down on your nightstand and roll out of bed. 

Today’s Monday. Today’s your first day at The Bear. Today that is the priority and there is nothing else to worry about.

You signed your contract last night. Talked to Syd for hours about it, planning next steps and goals and classes and budgets and a million other things. You’re both a little easily excitable, when it comes to lists and plans. Watching you sign yours gave her the ‘confidence’ to sign hers, if you can call it that. Not like you knew she needed the help, though.

“I love my life, I love my life, I love my life…” If you keep saying it while washing your face in the bathroom, it’ll become true, right? …Where’s Sara’s card again?

The Bear doesn’t run service on Mondays, so it’s a good day to do onboarding— Good day to do R and D. …What does one wear to R and D? Don’t need the serving uniform. Don’t need to dress up. Don’t need the jumpsuit… This is the first time you don’t need a uniform and that is bizarre.

You’ll wear your dad’s flannel, at least. Feels illegal to not wear the patch worked flannel. But besides that, you’re just a normal… restaurateur… part of the team…

Your hand hovers over where your necklace sits, in the small jewellery box on your vanity. “Mikey, if you want me to keep wearing it, make my ceiling cave in or some shit.”

You give it ten seconds and nothing falls. With a curt nod to no one, you pick up your book bag filled with loose tools and the menu filled notepad. Leave your bedroom, put your shoes on, grab your keys out of your clay dish tray on the way out.

It’s snowing.

That’s a lot of stuff falling, so to speak.

That’s basically a sign. That’s basically what you asked for.

You head back in, grab the necklace, hook it over your neck, and tuck it under your shirt. Baby steps. You head back out.

…And then soon after, head back in— Forgetting one of the most important things you need today. “The fucking glass, goddamn it!”

There’s a chance that today might be a little bit of an off day for you. No one’s gonna notice that, though.

“Mikey, why didn’t you tell me? You want me to look stupid on my start day, don't you? Fucker.”

You’re good. You’re you. You figure shit out. You’re compartmentalising perfectly and no one’s gonna be able to tell that you’re internally scrambling to figure out where you're gonna live once your lease gets terminated.

“ ‘Sup with you?” Okay, so Tina did immediately notice upon opening the back door for you. She tries to help you with the huge sheet of plexiglass you’re carrying, but you wave her off, stumbling further inside The Bear. Thankfully it’s a slow start to the morning, so the walk way is clear for your fumbled steps.

“I got it, T, just spot me—”

“Woahwoahwoah—” But alas, immediately Carmen is rushing over, making a big deal over nothing, “Fuck are you doin?” And grabs the thick sheet of glass from you. “Wait by your car next time, why do I gotta keep tellin’ you?”

“I am very capable—” You grunt, but you’re relieved when he takes the weight off you. You nod to the table in front of expo. “Put it on the island.”

“What’s it for?” Carmy asks but he follows direction without hesitation.

“Syd’s idea.” You walk with him, sidling up to Syd who’s already stationed up on the island with what looks like way too much paperwork for Chefs. You bump her shoulder as a greeting, she bumps you back. She lifts up the stack of papers and you pick up her deli container of Coke and ice, letting Carmen slide the glass onto the table.

“Unless it’s bad—” You correct, putting the cup down and digging through the tool bag on your shoulder for the right parts. “If you hate it, then it’s my idea.”

Syd snorts next to you, putting the papers back down on top of the glass. “Nice save.”

“What’s your idea, Chef?” Carmen taps his fingers against the glass, bemused.

You finally fish out two lock hinges from your bag, gesturing to them with a little flair like you’re Vanna White as Sydney explains. “For R and D. Thought since we’re like— Constantly changing shit and needing to review, it’d be like, useful to have a whiteboard— But those are huge and inconvenient for a restaurant— Duh— So—”

“Glass!” You come in with the assist as she rambles on. “On hinges— These one’s lock so you can have the glass sort of tilted up like an easel, or on the station— And then when you start service you can just flip it down off the counter for the night. Easy!”

“And—And—” Like a TV ad, Syd points out, “We can put paper under it and still be able to see— So it’ll make editing clearer— I-I think.”

Carmen always takes a nerve-wracking amount of time to think through other’s ideas, but once he nods, you both breathe easy. “Smart idea. Thank you, Chefs.”

You just smile, and this seems to bother Carm. Or at the very least, something is bothering him, as he frowns. “You got a second?”

Your brows furrow, for a moment, worried. You nod, putting your tools down. Glass can wait. “Always.”

Carmen comes around the counter, before he pulls you aside, Syd whispers over your shoulder, “Trouble in paradise.” Making you snort. When has it ever been paradise?

The two of you lean across from each other in the doorway of Carmen’s office, not quite in, not quite out. He looks worried, and his worrying is making you worry. He’s first to say something, concerned hand on your shoulder.

“Are you good?”

Fuck, he caught you too? “Hmm? Yeah, I’m good, do I not—”

You’re halfway through your response when he interrupts, he seems even more panicked by your words. His hand abandons your shoulder. “Right— Stupid, stupid fucking question— I just— Sorry—”

“Woah—” You grip both his shoulders, rubbing down his sleeves lightly. “Are you good, Carmy? You’re right, sweets. You caught me. I’m a lil’ off today. What gave me away?”

“Right, yes— You’re nice.” He’s saying it more to himself than you, like he needs to remind himself. Even so, it still hitches your heartbeat. “I— I’m good, I was just—You didn’t text me back this morning.”

“Oh.” You say it so breathlessly, with relief. It’s cute that that’s what’s got him freaking. “Sorry, yeah, I’ve been trying to not look at my phone, I just got some…” You shake your hand in the air for effect. “Bleh news. Put a wrench in some things for me, that’s all.”

“Yeah? What’s up?”

“Ah—” You shake your head, waving it off, “Too much to get into. Later, though?”

“Yeah, yeah. Whenever you want.” He nods. “Ah, I wanna get into uhm—” Carmen snaps his fingers a few times, finding the words. “Get into drinks, today. I made all the concentrates and syrups ahead of time—But Uncles gonna come in first with The Computer to go over some numbers shit— Should be here in thirty?”

You nod, squinting. “Is it like… A special computer or something?”

“Computer is a guy.” Carmen says, while Syd yells the same in tandem with him, “Why wouldn’t he be!?” Walking past you both as she carries produce out of the walk-in.

“Why wouldn’t he be?” You grin, reiterating. Your smile soon sobers though, as you finally notice a giant silver blob of machinery behind Carmen. “Baby, what the fuck is that?” 

You’re already walking past him, quickly winding up all over again. It’s a gorgeous espresso machine— “It’s an Ascaso.” Explains Carmen. “It’s the best.” And it’s sitting exactly where your beautiful beat up mistake of a heavily-stained coffee machine used to be. 

“Baby, baby, baby—” you’re looking above and below the station for your rusted companion, hushed and panicked. “Don’t tell me you threw away the old one—” 

“You want the old one?”

Richie’s timing is perfect, as he walks in from front of house, and even from just hearing the last sentence, “Fuckin’ told you, Carm.” He knows the context. He keeps walking— On a mission, seemingly.

“I’m grateful— I- I am.” You kneel down and shove some mixing bowls aside to see if it was tucked in the back of some shelf— It’s not here. She’s not here. “New is good— New is nice— I’ll learn how to use the new one— I will— But— I— I need the old one— You didn’t throw it away, did you?” 

When he stays silent, you turn and look up to Carmen from where you’re crouched on the ground, pleading. “Tell me you didn’t.”

“I— I—” The Chef is nearly sweating from this line of questioning alone. “It— It barely worked—”

“I know it didn’t! That’s the point!”

He blinks. You just seem to be saying all his trigger phrases, today, huh? “That’s the point?”

“I knew how she worked.” You push yourself back up onto your feet. “It’s got an espresso function that doesn’t work, if you tamp the basket the basket literally breaks off so you have to hold it and burn your hand a little— You have to hold the hot water button at the same time as the grind button for some reason or it won’t dispense— It’s literally a fucking nightmare— I covered it in like ten sticky notes of instructions at one point and they became pointless because no one but me was willing to use it. And— And I’ve got it memorized.”

“...And you want that?”

“No one’s gonna know how to take care of her, she’s my baby!” You gesture, albeit a bit too dramatically, speaking with your hands. “If you throw her away or donate her, no one’s gonna take the time to figure it out— They’re just gonna think she’s broken but she’s not, she works! She just needs the right hand!”

A dull silence falls between you, as Carmen purses his lips, squinting. There’s an ever slight chance your ‘I’m totally fine’ facade is cracking. “...Are you sure you don’t want to talk about your thing right—” 

“I’m good!” “...Okay.” “Did you get rid of her?”

“Relax, Handy!” Carmen does not say this. 

You grimace, looking behind Carmen to see Chi-Chi yelling from around the bend, in The Beef’s corner territory. Looking over him with the blue apron calling you your least favourite nickname by far— Well, second least favourite, only to— “She’s over here, Jack-Off. More our speed than rich boy’s ack - queso bullshit…” It’s nostalgic. Bad nostalgic but nostalgic. 

He slaps the top of the machine, you and Carmen both wince as a random spigot falls off it. Chi-Chi clicks his tongue, staring at it in silence. “...Refresher would be good, though.”

You’re already walking back to your damaged darling, patting Carmen on the shoulder as a form of goodbye, he pats your hand back. You don’t get to see him smile, as he watches you get to work. “Don’t fuckin’ call me Jack-Off and don’t touch her, I’ll show you, I’ll break your hand Cheech, I swear—”

The man in question shrugs, a devilish and terrible smirk on his stupid face. “Ey, love a woman in charge. Show me the ways.” 

Even on your most off days, working with The Beef will always be second nature for you. Even when the space is significantly more cramped than it used to be. 

You rewrite directions on how to use the coffee machine while showing them to Ebra and Chi-Chi. Ebra tends not to learn new tricks, so he stops listening by the time you get to syrups. That’s fine. No one ordered syrups in their coffee at The Beef back in the day all that often either.

Mikey really shouldn’t have invested in all those syrups back then. He really only did it for you and the staff. To be fair, when he did convince regulars to try your coffee they always changed their tune. The people don’t know what they like yet. They will like this. You were his proof that that idea was true.

“You gotta toss these, Boss. Slows you down.” You overhear Cheech saying behind you. You turn to see his arm on Ebra’s shoulder, holding the small blue baskets for sandwiches in his other hand. “Just the wrapping is fine. These people are gonna throw this shit out anyways, waste of plastic.”

Cheech turns his head to you, “Right, Handy?”

“...Don’t call me Handy.” Don’t freak out about throwing the old stuff away. Don’t freak out about throwing his old stuff away. You shrug, looking at Ebra over your shoulder. “Maybe just offer them, if they ask for one?”

“Y’know what the people are asking for, babe?” Cheech sucks his teeth, pulling Ebra closer, who looks nonplussed. “They’re asking where the nearest brick is to throw through our window. This rich people shit is getting on their nerves.”

You sigh, eyes flitting to Ebra for confirmation. “Yeah?”

He shrugs, nodding. “Ninety-eight percent, Jack-Off.” Cheech and the gang have been a terrible influence. How are you going to undo this?

“C’mon, E…” You scoff, but nod as you turn around, arms crossed. Gesturing with the frother as you do. “Well, I’ll make note of that. Now back to the fuckin’ hand frother, Cheech?”

“I know how to crank it, Handy—” “I swear to fucking God—”

“Ey!” Tina comes up to your corner, smacking the back of Chi-Chi’s head with a hand towel when she does. “Don’t talk to the baby like that, clean your mouth.”

He puts one hand on the back of his head, hissing, and another up in front of him, in defense. “Ey, T, it’s all love, aright? Playing!”

“Yeah well, you’re not gonna wanna play wit’ this one. ‘Specially not now—” She nudges you, smiling that coy ‘I’m about to blow up your spot’ smile.

You grimace, attempting to interrupt her. “T, don’t—” “That she’s Jeff’s.” “—Goddamnit.”

“Oh! Oh shit!” Cheech laughs, delightfully shocked. “You finally closed on Charmin’? Congrats—” It’s a blessing and a curse that Carmen, the guy you only ever saw in photos and heard in stories that you had a very minor and not vocal crush on, is now your… boyfriend? Undetermined.

You wave a hand in his face, “Shut the fuck up—”

“So where should I send flowers?”

You hate this family. “For the record, I have not closed shit.”

“What’s closing?” Tina takes a half step back, surveying your face, it doesn’t reveal anything. “What’s that? Gramps?” She turns her question on Ebra, who shrugs, equally as old and unknowing. 

“Well Jack-Off’s a little Mother Mary for my taste—”

You scoff, “So not true, for the record—” but Chi-Chi continues his tirade. “So I suspect she just means they haven't had the ‘are we datey-wating carmy baby?’ talk.”

You all but growl, crossing your arms as you wait for the second tutorial coffee to finish dispensing from the beloved whirring machine behind you. You can get the fuck out of here as soon as it’s done, and you’re praying that’s soon, because this interrogation is about to turn terrible. “We are currently unlabelled, if that’s what you’re trying to say.”

Tina kisses her teeth, poking at your shoulder. “Richie told me you spent the whole wedding together and you come back with no label?”

You sigh, composure falling apart. You are not ready for a mother’s disappointment. “We talked out a lot of important stuff—” “Mija, that is important stuff!”

“I just— We’ll talk eventually—” 

Chi-Chi conveniently interrupts you when it looks like Tina’s about to go off into a full rant on the downfall of romance in modern relationships. “So you’re still on the market, Handy?”

“For you?” You smile, then drop it. Pushing your hand against his forehead. “Never. Now froth the fucking milk.”

He mumbles an endless series of expletives, but gets to work. You give him a quick tutorial on the hand frother— You fought hard for the old machine, but you are overjoyed to see an automated steamer and frother on that Ascaso. That part is gonna be a dream. You can make so many new drinks for Carm— The menu. 

When you finish, you take the latte from Cheech to hand to Tina; and when you do, you catch her looking… off. She’s staring at the piled up diner baskets, next to the unused napkin dispensers. 

You put your hand on her shoulder, massaging it lightly. “You good, T?”

Your hand shocks her back into reality, “Yeah, yeah, I’m good, baby.” It takes her a second to remember where she is. She takes the latte, nodding. “I’m good. You good?”

“I’ve got my complaints.” You shrug. “But nothing I won’t survive.” Probably.

Tina takes a sip of her coffee, continuing to nod. She wants to dig deeper into your thing, you want to dig deeper into hers, but the painful groaning from the front of the kitchen, “And when did I fuckin’ greenlight this?” interrupts both your trains of thought. Uncle Jimmy tends to have that effect.

With a knowing nod, you walk together to the front, leaving Ebra and Cheech to continue experimenting with the coffee machine before they open their side of the restaurant. 

You watch from the sidelines as Carmen defends his choices, “The old one was shit, she was burning her hands on it. She’ll need the three groups to keep up.” and you’re able to quickly glean they’re talking about the new espresso machine.

“Okay, I hear that,” Jimmy nods, “but why the fuck did it need to be ten grand?”

“Ten?!” You can’t help but shout, you slap your hand over your mouth. Budget is none of your business. But fucking ten? You part your fingers to mumble through your hand,  “Sorry, continue.”

Carmen cares too much about your drink menu. Berzattos tend to invest too much into your special interests. Though this time, instead of syrups, and in addition to a 10k coffee machine, you see on the stainless steel table your shared sketches laid out alongside all the ingredients needed– Including the concentrates, whips, and other compounds Carmen made ahead of time for you. He’s so sweet. God, you love him. God, that’s disgusting. They have all, of course, been haphazardly shoved aside though, to make room for The Computer’s— Computer. Carmy’s nonplussed by that fact, it seems.

Jimmy gestures to you, deadpanning to Carm. “See, Chip understands the power of the dollar.”

“I’m not involved.” You add, waving your hand, it’s a terrible moment for your favouritism to shine through. Though you do enter the radius of this trainwreck of a quarterly review, kneeling down by the kitchen island to finish what you started with the plexiglass and hinges. “Ignore me, continue.”

The men stand on either side of you, as you bolt down the hinges. Carmen brushes off the dollar comment with a simple, “It’s the best.”

Why do you need the best? You think; Jimmy concurs with your brain, speaking for both of you. “Why do you need the best?”

The question seems to make no sense to Carmen. He freezes, blue-screening. “Cause—”

You duck your head under the counter at just the right moment— Or just the wrong moment? Because you don’t get to see Carmen looking down at you, then back up at his uncle. “Because.” 

You don’t see Uncle Jimmy practically roll not just his eyes but his entire body back into himself, witnessing the puppy love that is going to ruin his credit score. “Chip…”

When you slide yourself out from under the counter, Carmen puts his hand on the edge of the counter to make sure you don’t hit your head— Because you have an awful tendency to do so. You’re too focused on the way Uncle Jimmy says your name like you’re in trouble to notice though. “What’d I do?” 

“You’re you.” Jimmy grimaces, shaking his head. It’s not your fault. Not completely. “F-Y-I– Your boss just cut your bar budget by ten grand.”

“Hm.” You squint, lips in a line. “And what do I do if the budget I was planning was just ten grand?”

“Well respect yourself more than that.” Cicero scoffs, arms crossed. “Take twenty, now you’re back to ten. You’re welcome.”

“Generosity knows no bounds.” You shake your head, laughing him off as you duck your head back under the counter. “Thank you, Unc.”

“Sorry, who exactly are we giving twenty thousand?” 

“Oh fuck—” Despite Carmen’s best efforts, you still manage to bump your head on the roof of the counter, alarmed by the new voice— The Computer, you assume. “Fuckin—Ow— Sorry! Y’know what, hol’ on, let me just finish up here—”

“It’s the drink budget. Tony’s the new mixologist.” Natalie answers for you. “And sommelier.”

“Ah,” hums The Computer. “She’s the one we’re paying Quarter-Master for?”

“Nah, that’s me.” Gary strolls by, calling out to wherever his manager has gone, “Richie, you find that book yet?!”

“I’m taking them too!” You finally pop your head out from underneath the counter, finished bolting in the hinges. “Apparently I need actual W-S-E-T certification and a bunch of memorized google searches, youtube videos, and wine review blogs do not legally make you a sommelier.”

“I think it’s impressive you made it this far on basically nothing.” Syd taps the top of your head, she’s the one who made the call on schooling. She looks to her co-owner. “Classes are coming out of the advanced.”

“So is this.” You tap the plexiglass, nodding up to Carmen as well. “You’re workin’ with like… A thousand left for pre-paid work?”

“Hm.” Carmen nods, looking at The Computer, and you turn your head to him too. “Did you account for that?”

“Did I account for a thousand dollars?”

Carmen shakes his head like a white flag immediately, hearing the sarcastic tone, “Alright, you don’t—”

“A thousand dollars does not take you out of the hole, man.” He’s right, but you don’t love the tone. He tilts his head, reading something off his screen. “Payroll is a little high, for a somme.”

“I don’t disagree—” You try to say, because yeah, your contract does have a weirdly high salary.

But Jimmy, Nat, and Carm all speak over you. “It’s not.”

“That’s not pay for a somme, that’s a pay for Chip, you don’t need to enhance on that.” Jimmy deads the topic then and there. “You’ll see. Just trust me. You were sayin’ somethin about tiny plants?”

“Microgreens.” Says Syd. 

“Yes. Do less of that.”

And you just watch, from the sidelines, as this crew flows into a bit of a repetitive we’re doing this, which gains the response, well stop. Do less, charge more, figure it out, duh, don’t duh– What’s that you’re hearing about a daily changing menu? Carmen seems to be the only one campaigning for it. At a point he just starts pacing, pointing at numbers on The Computer’s screen that he doesn’t understand but pretends he does.

You’ve got a million ideas, but it’s none of your business. It very literally isn’t your business, until Jimmy turns his head just so, grimacing at the non stop debate, to see you standing aside, arms crossed.

He sighs, beckoning you to the table, like it’s a witness stand. “What’s that fuckin’ face on your face, kid?” Oh, for the love of God, why are you so easy to read?

You pfft, shrugging. “I’m not makin’ a face—!” But you come forward nonetheless as he boldly speaks over you. 

“You’re makin’ a face,” — “This is just what I look like,” — “Y’know how I know you’re makin’ a face?” — “Enlighten me.” — “Cause it’s the same fuckin’ face—”

He takes this moment to point at the face on your face. “That your dad makes.” A man that gambles as well as Cicero is a man that knows your dad’s tells. And a man that knows your dad’s tells is a man that knows your tells. 

You bite down on your inner cheek, poorly pretending to be confused, shrugging again, “I dunno what you’re talking about.”

“Come off it.” “I’m not on anything, Unc—” “You’ve got a problem, say it.” 

“I don’t have a problem!” You have a lot of problems, but they can’t know that. That makes you judgy and pushy— You don’t know enough about the business to have an opinion. “I’m just observing, that’s all.”

Uncle looks up, to Heaven, to Mikey, and sighs the world’s heaviest sigh. It sounds painful. When he finally tilts his head back down to you, it’s to say, “C-K.”

“Cicero.”

“Y’know why I’m able to pour mas queso into this fuckin’ kid?” He loosely gestures in the direction of Carmen, who in response seems to bite down a lot of venom. It’s bad to think he’s pretty when he’s annoyed, isn’t it?

You tilt your head, “Honestly, I always assumed some sort of mob association.”

Jimmy holds back his laughter, it comes out as a disgruntled cough. He shrugs. “It’s because when I saw your dad at the table, makin’” —He gestures to you— “That fuckin’ face, I knew to pull back.”

“You don’t need to pull back.” Your reply is a touch too panicked and instant for anyone’s liking, makes it a little less believable. But Cicero smirks, and you know that face as well as he knows yours. Check. He’s got you. 

“Then speak on it.” And he pushes you forward, just slightly, like a slap of support on your back. You grimace, looking to Carm and Syd for permission to have opinions, and they both nod, like it’s obvious. With great hesitation, lips pressed together, you finally allow yourself to come off as judgy, opinionated, a fixer. 

“I think the chargers are kinda stupid.”

A plate no one eats off of, that they still have to clean, that’s on top of another plate? Definitely super necessary. Definitely not some rich people NOMA bullshit.

You look to Syd, apologetic. She shrugs, open mouthed, head tilted, “I– I mean, I didn’t invent them.” 

“It’s presentation.” Carmen nods, to himself. He doesn’t like to budge. “That first look at the table affects everything.”

“Yes.” You nod, directly across the counter from him. “I agree, I just think the plates are stupid.” 

“You got somethin’ better?”

“Think so.” You hum, tilting your body back to yell to the back of the restaurant. “Ay, Cheech! Pass me a fuckin’ basket!” 

It’s without hesitation that you hear, “Hut!” before even seeing the man. You see the blue basket being hurled towards you before you see the man. You catch it, albeit a bit clumsy, but you catch it. 

You toss the basket on the table. Everyone stares. You defend yourself before anyone even criticizes it, “Easier to clean than plates, because you just need to rinse the plastic. Ties together a colour scheme, costs nothing, they’re gonna be tossed anyways.”

“It looks cheap.” Carmen tuts, but he really does seem to be trying to hear out the idea, despite his reservations. 

“It looks purposeful.” You double down, leaning on the counter just so, “It carries a story, that we didn’t forget where we started.”

“Ooh.” Marcus, clocking in just in time, hums behind you. “Kind of a bar, Chef.”

“Thank you, Chef. Morning, Chef.” You fist bump him over your shoulder, not looking. Too focused on convincing the man before you, you let him think in silence for some time before asking. “Think on it?”

“No.” Carmen shakes his head, and you’re a little crestfallen, for a second. “It’s good. Let’s do the baskets, yeah—” He then remembers to ask for permission, he turns his head to Syd, “Yeah?”

“Yeah? Oh, uh. Yeah. Yeah. Baskets are good.” Syd nods to Nat. “Can you look into, uh—”

“Returning the expensive as fuck earthenware shit? Happily.” Nat is far too cheery upon receiving a paperwork rabbit hole of a mission. She brushes past you, excitedly whispering, “Please keep going.”

“Oh, uh—” Are you some sort of thought leader now? “Well, uhm, I think I heard you sayin’” —You snap your fingers at The Computer, “That R and D cost is a little high?”

“A lot high.” He corrects.

“Kid with crayons.” Jimmy tuts, “Need to pull back a little.”

Carmen’s screwing and unscrewing the cap of a mason jar— Marmalade, it’s for Syd’s drink. He made it this morning, it’s labelled down to the minute.  Just let him work on his fucking drinks menu, please God. He’s been dying for this moment and it’s being thrown off by this bullshit. 

He can’t keep biting his tongue, “Hey, uh, why don’t you just tell us to do everything a little bit less so we can skip this and get back to work, huh?”

You hear Uncle Jimmy inhale as preparation to verbally beat Carmen’s ass. You put one hand up in front of the old man’s face, the other hand grabs a dry-erase marker. “He didn’t mean it like that and he apologizes, Unc.”

“Does he now?”

“He does.” You drop your hand, focusing on lifting the glass panel, clicking the locks in place to keep it up. You nod to Carmen through the pane. “Right, Carmy?”

Poor Carmen nearly deflates, “...I’m tryna be the guy.” 

“Not what the guy does, baby boy.” You hum, uncapping the marker with your teeth. You turn your head to Cicero. “Guy had a lapse, he forgot you were his boss and just thought of you as family, so he spoke to you like family, cause he loves you, Unc.”

Cicero nods, tilting his head just so at Carmen. “S’that right?”

Carm manages to shake his head and nod all at the same time, “S’a facet.” 

“....Well, just don’t do it again.” A crisis is averted and an uncle is softened. 

“I love to see a family come together.” You hum, nonchalant, writing on the glass, ‘R & D - Cost: Bad’

“Bring it from bad to good.” The Computer notes very helpfully. “You can cut—”

“Hol’ on.” You put your index finger up, effectively shushing him, “Just think about it first. We don’t have to go straight to cutting. Let’s look at our options.”

“Your options are fucked.”

“Just—” You tut, rubbing the bridge of your nose, man, you really are becoming your dad right now. Loosen your grip, Jack. “Widen the scope. We cut costs through returning those chargers— How else can we ‘return’ shit? Carmy?”

Thank God you’re the guy, because Carm can’t hack it. “Heard? Yes?” And frankly, he doesn’t want to.

“What’s the main cost on R and D?”

“Supplies. Food— Y’know, lot of trial and error.” He nods to a bus tub filled with failed attempts over this morning’s session. But you like that, right? “Trying new things, y’know?”

“...Carmen.” He doesn’t answer, because he can hear he’s in trouble. He is staring at you stare at the tub in what seems like a sort of contemplative, serene, searing anger. “Sweetheart, are those four wagyu filets in a fuckin’ bus tub?”

“Yes, it’s got a blood orange reduction, but– But Syd suggested mint—” 

You don’t let him finish, “Is it poison?”

“It’s not.” “It’s edible?” “It is.” “Okay, so then, babydoll, why is it not being eaten?”

Syd winces from the sidelines, hissing under her breath, fist over her mouth. Carmen cannot help but notice. You’re perhaps… a dash upset.

“We can’t eat everything.” “Did you offer it to the crew?” “Yeah—” “You offered it to Nat, Unc, Cheech— All the servers? Or did you just offer it to the cooks?” “...Heard.” “Did you take a bite of all of these?” “Not all.”

You start writing on the glass again, explaining as you do, “Okay. So then uneaten food from R and D should be sold on one of those fuckin’ food waste apps— Too Good to Go, or somethin’. We advertise it to The Beef regulars, try to get the other side of our city to understand the finer things, prevent any brick through window incidents, how we feel ‘bout that?”

You remember small things far too well. You did make note of the rich people shit getting on The Beef customers' nerves. You make note of the people who live on your block, who cannot afford to eat here. You make note of the fact that Carmen resents subtracting with a passion now, so you find another way. He can still try new things, just needs to handle the results better. 

“...You keep a binder or somethin?” Is all Carmen can think to ask. 

“Steel trap memory.” You tap the cap of the marker to your head, “Good though?”

He nods, “Good.”

“Good.” You take a breath, dragging a hand down your face, practically coming out of a fugue state. Carmen knows your need to have something to do, just as much as him, so he slides the jar of fig marmalade to you from across the table. You take it happily, unscrewing the lid. You’ve also been dying to get to this menu.

But Richie comes up from behind, scratch and sniff wine book in hand— Didn’t Mikey get you that? It  was meant to be a gag gift but it’s actually quite useful. “Chip, can you also tell Chef Carmen the daily menu fuckin’ sucks?”

“Re-lax.” You sigh, pulling over all the ingredients and tools you need for Syd’s drink. “Syd told me ‘bout this though, daily pre fixe, or whatever it’s called?”

“It’s—” Carmen crosses his arms over himself, immediately defensive but trying his best not to be. “It’s an idea I’m floating, for now— It’s what the best restaurants do, and— And even if we don’t have full intent on getting a star, right now, it’s still important.”

“I just think…” You hum, trying to figure out the most delicate way to say it. “It doesn’t exactly give you the most room to collaborate or create—”

“The whole point of it is to collaborate and create—”

“Oh yes,” —As if waiting in the wings for this, Richie pops out behind you again, “What wasssit? ‘Vibrant Collaboration’ and ‘Constantly Evolve Through Eating My Own Head like a fucking ouroboros’.”

“Relax.” You hiss this time, putting a hand up in front of Richie. You can speak for yourself. “You don’t have time to be creative or collaborate when you’ve gotta make decisions in less than twelve hours.”

Carmen tries to defend, he gestures to the one good plate of wagyu with mint that came out of this morning, “But the—”

You nod and hum, knowingly. The sweet sound stops him. You already know the answer, but you ask anyway, as you scoop fig marmalade into your cocktail shaker. “Did you get to try the pop rocks thing yet?”

“Well, no, it’s not viable to perfect that in such—”

“A short amount of time, angel?”

“Oooh…” Richie mimics Syd’s movements, air whistling between his teeth as he takes a sharp breath. He gestures, standing behind you, staring at Carmen as he slides his thumb across his neck. He mouths, ‘Mad mad.’

Carmen’s two closest friends are freaking him the fuck out and one of them wasn’t even doing it on purpose. How do they know that? How can they tell that? Are you gonna break up with him? Are you even dating? This work together thing was a terrible idea—

“You don’t have time to be thoughtful about things, if you do an entire menu every day, you’re gonna have to cut corners on what you’re willing to experiment with.” You reword, more productive, better for his brain. “Plus, prix fixe is a fuckin— In—In my opinion, is sort of a lacking idea, maybe, for a new restaurant.”

Carmen’s willing to give up the daily rotation, he’s not so willing to give up the pre fixe. “It’s what the best restaurants do.” Carmen loves the word best, huh?

“Have those restaurants—” You bite your tongue from what was going to be an immediate catty response.

You try again, measuring out orange liqueur and lemon juice as you do so. “You’re thinking like a Chef and you need to think like a customer— A- A guest, for a second.”

Carmen gives you the floor, mostly because he cannot compute the command. You continue, “Let’s do a little roleplay, alright? Let’s say we’re just average people, not workin’ at The Bear, and we’re goin’ on a date.”

“When?” “...When?” “When is the date?” “No, I’m— It’s— This is hypothetical.” “Yeah but in the hypothetical.”

You shrug, clicking tongs together as you grab large chunks of ice for your shaker. “I dunno, Friday nights? We have like a Friday night date night.”

“Oh, so you’re doing good.” Richie hums, proud of this hypothetical you, “Weekly date night is a cornerstone.” 

“Moving on.” You elbow Rich behind you, shaker sloshing in hand, “I’m not a foodie, you are— In this hypothetical. You’re looking around at restaurants in the area for the date, you find The Bear— You find through their website with an improper hyperlink that the menu is,” —You list off on your free hand— “prix fixe, unavailable online, and changes daily so you can’t go off of reviews either. Also, it’s a new place, so you can’t really ask around for opinions.” 

“Right.” Carmen nods, as does Syd. Uncle Jimmy’s got that stupid smirk he gets when he sees his kids fall in line. You pour the ouzo over the ice, focus on the drink, not Carm’s mopey expression. 

“So, we probably wouldn’t go, right?”

Carmen keeps nodding, eyes downcast— Not upset, just can’t take feedback without keeping his head down. “Prob’ly not, yeah.” 

You pound the shaker shut, shaking it lightly in one hand as you try as hard as you can to sweetly explain. “People are open to like, two surprises on an outing. New place, new food— But they will need a set menu and they will need to have it available beforehand— And they’ll need to be able to choose.”

He looks like a cat in the rain, so you add, “But. Maybe we can do a daily special? Or weekly, depending on burnout, but like, y’know, a semi-frequent one new thing. And maybe on like, Valentines or some holidays we do a fresh prix fixe. That’s how some of the best places do it.”

Carmen’s eyes upturn, smiling with them, at that last part. “You do keep a binder.”

“Syd does. I just pay attention.” You shake your head. “She mumbled about it all night when we got back.” 

Adamu is immediately aghast, she should’ve realized ages ago, you were practically quoting her. “You said you couldn’t hear me!”

“No, I said you weren’t bothering me, and you weren’t.” You can’t hide your smile as you break the seal on the shaker. Syd sucks at sharing her ideas, but you’re happy to act as a good mouth for her good brain. “Hand me a lowball.” 

With a grumble, Syd walks off in search of  the lowball; while everyone does seem to agree this is best practice, Carmen does still seem a little sore about it.

“It’d probably also serve us well to do a seasonally rotating menu, right?” And so you throw him a bone. “Like Winter, Spring, Summer, Fall? Base it on what’s in season with local vendors?”

“What grows together goes together.” Tina says, nearly sing-songy. “Farmer’s market is rough though, Jeff.” 

“Fuck a farmer’s market— With love, fuck a farmer’s market.” Back to writing on plexiglass you go. “We gotta do vendors, maybe f’ like, eggs and dairy we can do farmer’s market, but it’s just not feasible. Maybe for holiday pre fixe or daily specials? But full stock, it’s just not— It’s not it. And I say that while having farm fresh eggs and local honey in my pantry, alright?”

Carmen agrees, like a bobble-head this guy. He nods to Tina. “That cool with you, T?”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s cool with me.” Tina is a millisecond off to pipe in, which is really not noticeable– To anyone but you, that is.

“Why’s— Why would T not be good with that?”

“She’s in charge of farmer’s market.” 

“Hm.” You bite the end of the dry-erase marker. “T, would you be cool with rotating that, now and again?”

“Ooh?” She tilts her head, shrugging, “Yeah, yeah, kid. If you wanna take the reins.”

“Not me.” You return to scribbling on the glass board. You point at Carmen and Syd through the glass. “Them.” 

“I’ve paid my sous chef dues.” Says Syd, returning to the table with your glass. You tut, shaking your head. You refocus your vision from your writing to beyond the plexiglass, at them. 

“You need it for inspiration! You fuckers keep forgetting you like cooking, I need you to visit the farmer’s market once in a while to remind you.” You take the lowball glass and tong a few ice cubes in. “Non-negotiable. Heard?”

A soft, simultaneous, “Heard, Chef.” from your cats. 

“Good.” You strain the mixed concoction out of the shaker, into the lowball glass. It’s a very pretty peachy pink. You tweezer a slice of dried fig and place it on top. You grab a toothpick, stick it down the glass, pull it out, and taste the toothpick. Balanced, solid flavour, should be good.

You slide the drink over to Syd. “I can’t drink everything obviously, so first dibs goes to whoever the drink is based on— I don’t care who drinks it, just let me know if it goes down smooth.”

You also in turn hand Syd the recipe card and sketch, and you’re quick to move on as she reviews and sips away.

Ouzo. Dry anise tasting spirit. It’s got a licorice aftertaste, but oddly sweeter for it. It’s strong. Resilient. It’s made from remnants of unfermented wine grapes and a mix of other distilled and unused spirits. Better than the sum of its parts. It goes well with figs. Muddle it together with fig marmalade— Sweet yet earthy, spring-like. Orange liqueur to marry the flavours, lemon juice to brighten. Shaken, pour over ice into a lowball, serve with a dried fig on top.

Syd manages to reserve her reaction to a slow but repetitive nod, like entering deep space. She only comes back to reality when Richie reaches for the drink, wanting to try. She’s quick to pull it away from him, coveting the glass. 

“Ah… what else? Rapid fire.” You knock your head around, remembering what The Computer talked about, and in quick succession, you line up every problem and talk through them, possibly solve them— As best as a newbie can. At the very least, you open the floor to actual discussions as you make drinks all the while. 

“Opening a full sixth day I think will shoot us in the long run, especially if we ever get a kitchen plague going. Maybe we just open for half the day on Mondays going forward, try out breakfast? Stop booing me, I’m right.”

Richie’s. Also served over ice in a lowball. It’s similar to a whiskey smash. Nixing the mint. Whiskey bourbon— A good one, but not too good that it’s a sin to mix. Something with a cinnamon spice, that's warm all the way down, but never burns. Water it down a bit by stirring peach juice over the whiskey with ice for a brief moment. Float blueberry syrup on top. Add a toothpick, spearing two blueberries and one peach halve, balance it over the glass, for stirring. So the drinker can mix the blueberry syrup in and have a cute colour changing experience. 

“Wine pours, me and Gary got that. We can also just start charging by the bottle by default— Whatever works.” 

Marcus’. Simple but effective. A rum and coke ice cream float. Made complex by the fact that the ice cream is on a rotating schedule, based on whatever Chef Brooks is feeling that night and what’s in stock. Right now? Pistachio. So tonight it’s actually rum and seltzer, and it will probably continue to be rum and seltzer, based on the way Marcus’ eyes light up by the opportunity to get weird. More often than not, you’re going to need that neutral base. Served in a milkshake glass, because what else?

“I don’t understand why I couldn’t just grow these microgreens myself in house. They’re just plants you murder early, are they not? Am I missing something?”

Tina’s. Varied take on a spiked agua fresca. Fresh blended mango agua fresca— With ginger, of course. A healthy kick is a necessity for a mom drink. Sweetened with simple syrup, spiked with white rum, dash of agave bitters, top with coconut water. Served in a tall glass, because why would you skimp on portions?

“Why are we shipping flowers from New York? No, fuck that, go to Violet’s Violets— I fixed her cooler once, she falls in love and gives a discount to literally anyone who’s nice to her. Just send Marcus with some dessert and you’ll be set for life.”

And of course, Carmen’s aperol spritz. You go with the cherry syrup rim for now because it’s important to try. You’re almost certain it’s too much though.

“Napkins…” You rub your icy cold hands— From shaking up so many goddamn drinks— Over your eyes. “Why are we renting?”

“Buying is insanely overpriced.” Answers Computer. 

You nod, shrug, but nod, fingers tapping the glass, “Well, it’s like renting over owning right? It might be better to own because, y’know, you might suddenly get told by your napkin vendor, like, like years down the line, after basically paying for these napkins in full through rent, ‘hey, actually, we’re gonna jack up prices or just take those napkins back’ even though you’ve —again— Literally had them for years—”

“Chippy, are you good?” Richie tries to massage your shoulder, tries to break you out of the doom spiral, but admittedly, it was never his forte. Still isn’t. 

“We—!” Your voice hangs and is grating in a way it usually isn’t, ignoring the question. “We can produce our own napkins if we buy linens by the yard and hem ‘em ourselves. We—” You snap your fingers a couple times at Carmen, praying he backs you up. “We can even get The Bear monogrammed on them.”

“That sounds nice…” It’s Carmen’s turn to ease you off the ledge of insanity, gently. “It also sounds expensive, were you gonna do that?”

“Fuck no.” You’re quick to shake your head. “I fucking suck at sewing, my own jumpsuit is covered in my blood— No, my—” Oh. “Hold on.”

Your hand immediately goes for your back pocket, quickly pulling your cell-phone out, and dial one of your first starred contacts. Richie, over your shoulder still, sipping his blueberry and bourbon cocktail, excitedly mumbles. “Oh, put it on speaker.”

You’re annoyed before he’s even answered, knowing the headache you’re about to get. “Trust me, the first thirty seconds minimum will not need—”

“Hey!” It’s impossible to convey how earth shatteringly loud and drawn out his voice is, immediately upon answering. There may be eight seconds of the sustained vowel? Maybe more. Almost everyone flinches, par for Syd, Carm, and Rich. Though for all different reasons. 

A touch grating, in the same way your voice just was. Like father, like occasional daughter, you suppose. “Hey kiddo baby darling sweetheart angel princess—” Oh, he’s mad. The whole ‘slew of nicknames when you’re pissed off’ thing? Yeah, that didn’t start with you. “Did someone die? Because that’s the only reason my darling baby only daughter calls anymore!”

You sigh, immediately exhausted, putting your weight on one leg. “Y’know, once a month is honestly a lot of times a year for a fully grown woman to call their dad, on average. I absolutely call you more than my friends call their dads.”

Richie almost chokes and whispers over your shoulder, hesitant, internally preparing for a dreadful future. “Please tell me that’s not true.”

“Oh, and you should be so lucky that you have a dad to call! Cause I bet those friends are calling funeral homes, aren’t they?!”

“Dad—”

“I should have never taught you independence. Worst mistake of my life to teach you how to be your own person. Richard, never teach your kid how to use a screwdriver, it will be the last day you are a father.”

“Noted, Big C-K.” Richie goes for your dry erase to actually write it down, you pull it away from him. That’s gonna require a long talk down later. 

Carmen mouths to you, across the table, he meant to ask earlier when Cicero said it but there wasn’t time. ‘C-K?’

You mouth back, gesturing to the logo on your very own flannel ‘Chicago’s Kindest.’ He’s not the best with acronyms. 

“Oh— And thank you for bringing that up! And what’s this I hear about you cutting your hours with C-K? I hear this from Tony of all people ‘fore I hear it from you?”

“I got a long-term bartender gig that’s actually gonna keep my bills paid, alright? And I like it. Putting that mixology double trade major to good use. Cicero’s got stock in the place, actually.”

“How you doin’ C-K?” Cicero pipes in next to you, waiting for his moment.

“Ah… I’ve got my complaints. For one, my Jack keeps you more company than me!”

There’s a series of hums and haws, that weird uncle secret language of heavy exhales that manage to say more than any actual words they could say. 

You let the heaving run its course for ten seconds before cutting it short with, “Anyways, I’m still gonna keep the business running, just only in the mornings. It’s not like I brought in that much business anyway, I’m not pulling a foundation.”

“Everytime a small business dies, a rich man laughs, Jack!” 

“It’s not dying! It’s alive! It’s present and alive!” Don’t get flashbacks. “Anyways, speaking of small businesses, I need a favour—”

“Ooh, the truth comes out, princess calls cause she needs bail—” 

“For the love of God, let me get through a sentence, Pops!” You grumble, continuing. “Remember that overpriced monogram machine you bought for no reason?”

“It was not for no reason, it was invaluable because it saved my mitts from hand embroidering all those logos— And and— you have to remember—” You mouth the words along with him, mimicking him, because you know exactly what he’s going to say, “that it all starts in your community— And now you have like eight beautiful outfits, cause of me… And also it’s fun.”

“Well… If it’s fun, would you consider making some linen napkins?”

And it flows like ping pong, because your dad is a repairman— Well, former, but still. He’s simple. He handles negotiations simple. So do you.

“For who?” “Restaurant. The Bear.” “Why?” “Cause they need linen napkins.” “How many?”

You look over your shoulder to Richie, he does the math in his head pretty quickly, “Bout seventy to a hundred covers a night.”

“Six hundred.” “Pay?” “We’ll pay supplies, and I’ll give you like—” You look to Syd, expectantly. She has no answer, so you put your advanced on the line. “A thousand?”

“A thousand!? Less than a dollar a napkin! Is this pre-housing crisis?!” “I work here, okay?! Discount me!” “My God, princess, are you in love with the owner or something?”

That world feels like it's choking, but that's probably just you. You blow hot air out of your mouth, looking anywhere but Carmen. Refusing to see him even in your periphery. Refusing to see his blue screened but ever so slightly expectant expression. Well? Are you? …Or something?

After a long moment, you find a way to avoid the question. “Ah–Uh, Syd co-owns the place.”

“Oh, Adamu?!” 

Syd pipes in, leaning over the table. You hold the phone out for her. “H–Hey, Mr. CK.” She waves, despite the fact that it’s a phone call.

“Hey kiddo. Aw, what a sweetheart. Lead with her next time!”

“Alright!” You bring the phone back to your face— It’s remained off speakerphone this entire time, but he continues to yell loud enough for the table. “I didn’t realize you were best friends.”

“Of course we are. Y’know she brought me this uh– this salmon mushroom risotto the other night? Unbelievable.”

You squint at Adamu curiously, whispering. “You bring my dad food?”

She whispers in return, defensive. “He lives on my block, don’t be weird.”

“For her, I’ll do it for eight-hundred, okay kiddo? I know how tough it is to start up a business, can’t imagine trying to move on top of that.”

Your turn to blue screen. Moving? You’re immediately over the love thing. “...Pardon?”

“...I’ll do it for eight—”

“No– Yes, sorry, yes dad that’s great—” You arch the phone away from your face, focusing your attention on Syd. “Syd, you’re moving out?”

She sighs, “Trying to.”

“Pops.” You straighten up, not looking away from her. “I’ll call you back to sort details later, okay?”

“Sure. You also need to let me know holiday plans, are we going up to Oak Park or—”

Somewhat disrespectfully, you speak hurriedly, “Yeah, we’ll figure it out, love you, bye!” and hang up. Still locked on Syd, you ask. “When you tryna move?”

“Like, soon as possible.” She stretches out her shoulders. “My own dad is sort of… Encroaching on my space.” 

“Right.” Your eyes flicker with too many ideas, and you’re trying to temper expectations. “You wanna live by yourself?”

“I mean, I don’t really know anyone on the same timeline as me, with the same ‘low budget’ as me.”

The Computer attempts to interrupt the interruption of his review, holding a finger up, “And why are we talking about—”

But you hold the palm of your hand up, continuing on, “I need to move out asap and have a ‘low budget’.”

That’s Carmen’s queue to chime in, he loves your place. “What happened?” 

Also Richie’s, “What? Chip, your spot’s like a historical site, ya can’t move.” and this is generally agreed upon by a sea of dismayed voices.

“To make an extremely long story short, I don’t have a choice.” You wave your hand in the air, silencing murmurs. “My sweet old lady landlord— The only landlord I’ve ever respected, got bought out by a fuckin’ big business gentrification ass company— I’m not in a rent controlled zone so they’re gonna keep jacking the rent until I move out so they can tear it down and build a new spot— They also may or may not have found out that me and Loretta— My landlord— Haven’t exactly been keeping up to date on my lease.”

“Meaning?” Carmen knows the answer will be bad. 

But it’s somehow worse. “Meaning I pay my rent on time in cash and she texts me once a year saying ‘do you want to keep living here?’ and I say ‘yes’, and we continue on.”

“Well, hold up—” Richie holds a hand up, like he’s a genius. “Squatter’s rights?”

“I thought about going that avenue, but—” You gesture to Syd. “If you’re already moving, and looking for a roommate?”

She looks up and around, thinking about it. You decide to join her in the brainstorm, scooching yourself just an inch to the right, writing on free space on the plexiglass screen, ‘pros and cons’

“Pro.” You murmur as you write. “I have a better credit score than you.”

Syd sputters, half sarcastic. “Well, that’s just uncalled for.”

“It’ll give you more options for places! Better ones! Ones with in-unit laundry!” You defend.

“In-unit laundry…” “Your eyes just lit up in such a sad way.” “Con. You are an ass.”

“That’s a pro. A real con would be that I have a lot of plants and if I ever go on vacation I’m gonna need you to take care of them, and I’m not gonna have a binder for you, because I water them based on vibes, and if I come back and they’re dying I’m gonna be pissed off and very passive aggressive about it.”

“Violently honest.” “Pro. Mostly direct. Aside from when I’m not.” “Con. I’m not direct.”

“Con. That’s fine but if I get the idea that you’re mad at me I’m gonna act really weird about it until you reassure me that everything is okay and you don’t want to throw me out the window.”

“Yeah. Con. Same.”

“Pro. I’ve lived by myself for a while, which is good to have when you’re moving out of your parents for the first time. Con. I’ve lived by myself for a while, and I’m very used to the lifestyle of big t-shirt no pants, I’m not giving that up.”

Now that one takes Syd a second to unpack, “But, but like, underwear though, right—?”

“No shit I wear underwear!”

“Okay! It’s important to note!”

“Don’t be weird.” Richie grumbles behind you, solidly directed at Carmen.

Who’s whole face really just scrunches up in confusion. “‘Don’t be weird’? You don’t be weird.”

“I’m not bein’ fuckin’ weird—” “Then why are you up in my shit—” “Up in your shit? Oh wow—” “Fully not what I was referencing—” “Don’t be weird, cousin!” “I literally— I did not even move— Not a single cell in my body—” “And— And you only know that ‘cause you had to lock it down, you dog—”

“I don’t remember having kids, why the fuck am I in a Kindergarden?” Uncle Jimmy interrupts.

“I’m just takin’ care of my boy, Unc.” Richie raises a hand in defense, feigning innocence. “Can’t be too careful.”

“You super can, and you super are.” You grimace, elbowing him again. “And also, not important–!”

“Actually, no, very important.” Syd of all people interrupts. “Non-negotiable, like you can’t— …Like you— …When I’m home it’s like— Don’t—” Ah.

You roll your eyes and save her before she just about breaks out in a feverish sweat. “Syd, I wasn’t planning on it. That’s like roommate rule one.”

“Syd.” Richie points to his own eyes, then to hers, ‘watching you’. “Don’t be weird.”

“What the fuck—”

“Everyone shut up, pros and cons—!” You shout, gaining the attention back. “Pros. I have a car, we work at the same place, I have all the furniture for a living room already,  you'd never have to wait for a landlord to fix something ever again, and I could probably do a bunch of D-I-Y renter friendly projects, if you wanted.”

“...Oh my god, a French-door pantry.” “I think I could swing that.” “Pros. You’ll never have to cook again. I guess that’s my only pro, actually.”

“Con. I have been feeding the cat on my fire escape for like a year and if I’m moving I am going to have to adopt her, so we’re gonna have a cat. She’s cute, she has five toes on each paw. Something dactyl, it’s called.”

“What’s her name?” Squid’s not excited per se, but she’s not saying no. 

You shrug. “I never named her, let’s name her together.”

“No, that’s too much pressure—” “No, you’ll do great—” “What do you mean I’ll do great—?” “Three–” “Oh like together together? No! What—?!” “Shut up, just do it, head empty, two—” “No! I’m just not gonna say any—” “Yes you will, Squid. One!”

And together, perfectly in sync, like it was planned all along, you both say on queue, “Calamari!”

“There we go.” You write ‘Calamari’ on the plexiglass. “That’s my girl— That’s our girl, actually. I’m still not sure if she’s a girl.”

You click your tongue against your teeth, knocking your head back and forth in thought as you look at the scribblings on the glass. “Non-negotiables?”

Syd leans forward on the table, chin propped up in her hands. “I need forty-five minutes of bathroom time at the beginning of the day.”

“...Do you have a fuckin’ lactose intolerance?” “It’s my me time!” “Alright! Fuckin’ fifty minutes of toilet time for Syd. Ah, I need east facing windows… and uhm…”

Syd stares at you, and alas, she can tell, “You have a big non-negotiable…”

“It’s not that big… It’s more a group thing than a roommate thing, really…” “What is it?” “I think… It would be fun… If we all started playing Dungeons and Drag—” 

There’s an immediate, staggeringly loud array of groans, you’re still writing it down nonetheless, all the while defending, “I honestly think a little roleplay and math would fix you assholes! I really think it would! I’ll D-M, I’ll make it so easy— Please?”

Syd grimaces, but inevitably nods. “Y’know what, you’re never gonna get a concrete schedule for that down, and no one else is gonna agree so yes, sure from me.” Still a win. 

“Okay.” You hum, capping the marker. “So… Aim to move first of February? You down?”

It takes some time, and you realize as Syd’s brain frozen, that you might be overstepping. “Sorry, that’s going too fast, you think on it—”

“...I’m down.” You make it very easy for her to say yes, by giving her the option to say no. “Yeah, let’s do it. February. I’m down.”

“I’m so happy for you two, but I’m still fuckin’ reeling— Chippy, it’s– it’s— So many memories—” Richie’s being overly dramatic on purpose, hand on your shoulder, really laying on the vocal fry in his voice; but it is true. “I mean, come on, first time I’d ever been stabbed was on your block.”

“Sorry, what?” Carmen was having fun watching his two favourite employees figure out they’d be perfect roommates. He loves to be a fly on walls around you more than he’d like to admit. Richie managed to ruin it with one line. “Stabbed on your block?”

“Yeah,” You suck the air between your teeth, trying to think of some sort of white lie, but slowly shake your head, “I— Yeah, there’s no real way for me to down play it, I was so fuckin’ scared.”

“You were tweaking!” Richie laughs, clapping his hand against your shoulder, to him it’s a charming story— You’d probably be laughing too, if Carmen didn’t seem so… unpleased, let’s say. “You fuckin’ thought I was gonna die!”

“You fucking were!” You slap Rich’s hand away. “It was so close to a cerebral artery— First and last time I’ll administer stitches in my fucking kitchen, hand to God—”

“What’s the story?” Oh, new face from Carmen you haven’t seen before, bewildered annoyance, you’d describe it as, it’s going in your bottom five. “You live in a bad neighbourhood?”

“It’s rustic—” You try, but Richie opts to speak on your behalf. “Oh, Chip lives in a terrible neighbourhood, Cousin. You’ve been there, haven’t you?”

“Yeah but it didn’t seem that bad— No— Hold on, go back, stabbed why?”

“So I heroically defended a boy from crooked—” Richie tries, but you opt to speak on his behalf. “Richie was helping me bring up groceries, we saw some highschoolers shaking a kid down, Richie tried to break it up, one of ‘em stabbed him with one of those shitty switchblade comb things.”

“You got stabbed by a kid?” Syd snorts, but immediately regrets it because she has perfectly set him up for—

“Yeah, and wouldn’t be the last time, would it?”

“Richie, c’mon…” You reach up, patting the guy’s shoulder. “It was an accident and she apologized—”

Richie just raises his eyebrows, interrupting with a simple, “Mm-mm.” 

And so yours raise in tow, “...Fuck you mean ‘mm-mm’?” And your head turns to Syd, alarmed. “Syd, you apologized, right?”

Her mouth just sort of hangs, sputtering noises do come out of it, but nothing that strings a sentence together. You grow more agog, repeating again, astonished, nearly laughing from the shock, “Syd?! You apologized, right?! And told him it was an accident, right?”

Syd takes a beat, but she gets there. “I— I. Am. Sorry I stabbed you by accident, Richie.”

“Hm.” Richie crosses his arms, considering, mostly sarcastically. “Yeah, I’ll take it, I guess. Would’ve liked a card.”

“I am not getting you a card.” “I’m jus’ sayin’ I’d’ve liked one.”

Carmen’s still five steps behind, “Are you gonna be fine living there? In January?”

You choke back a laugh, because this is how men try to show they care, one must imagine. “I’ve been fine for the past handful of years living there, I think I’ll be fine for another month, sweetheart.”

“Crime is bad in January.”

“I was a first responder, and I know that’s not true.” You shake your head, shirking off laughter. “It’s actually in the summer that you see shit go down. Again, I will be fine. But you are free to visit.”

“Point of order.” The Computer finally pipes up again— Might’ve forgot he was here, if you’re honest. “What are we talking about anymore?”

“Point of order— I feel like numbers— Talking numbers is great but it’s all just like— Paper, y’know?” You unlatch the plexiglass, gently settling it back down on the table. “We should be talking more.”

Tina nearly whistles in agreement, nodding by your side. “Heavy that, Jeff.”

“That’s what I’m sayin’, like—” You snap your fingers to the rest of the crew, hand moving to and fro to point at everyone, “Did y’all know until right now that Syd was moving? …No, right? Let’s like— Fuckin’ remember to check in, like y’know, family, Chefs.”

And without calling her out, you can feel Tina’s demeanor next to you change, relaxed. 

“Heard, Chef.” Is the agreement from the crew, however, The Computer nor Cicero seem convinced, so with a sigh, you put on your most authoritative voice.

 “Y’know. Three Cs! Caring cuts costs!” A phrase no one has ever said, but it sounds legitimate when you put it like that. That gets them to acquiesce. 

Thank God, Marcus helps you move the conversation along, “...What’s everyone doing for the holidays?” Alas for both of you, the silence is deafening. “...Or not.”

You volley back for him, “If no one has hard plans I was thinking of having a lil’ Holiday party? Nothing big. Sort of a ‘goodbye old apartment’ party? Come by after you hang out with your families or whatever?”

“Not gonna go up to Oak Park?” Rich leans one arm on your shoulder, nursing his whiskey cocktail in the other. 

“Meh.” You shrug, attempting to push him off you, but he doubles down. “We’re not so intense about holidays since everyone’s aged. I’ll visit my nephew on New Years.” 

“I’m doin’ Eve with Eva, but I’ll be free on the day. I’ll come by. We doin’ gifts?”

“I mean I got you something, so,” You tap the bottom of his glass as Rich takes another sip, making him flinch. “Catch the fuck up.” 

Syd pipes in, sniffing. “Me and my dad only celebrate on Christmas Eve now, so I’ll come.”

“Incredible. Two down.” You gesture to Marcus and Tina across the table. “You guys? Tina I assume you’ve got a loving family and shit?”

Tina smiles and nods, rightfully proud. “I do have a loving family and shit, but maybe I’ll come by late with them too?”

And Marcus tacks on with her, “I’m gonna be with my mom most of the night, but I’ll come through for a couple hours.”

“Perfect, perfect. Invites open to any plus ones as long as you text me first!” You hum, writing names down on the glass board. It’s kind of a nightmare of different lists at this point. “Richie, can you make sure Fak and Sweeps get the invite?”

“Yessir.”

“And us!?” Shrieks Cheech in the back, who really shouldn’t be able to hear you, he should be in the zone, slinging sandwiches.

You yell back without turning to him. “Yes, fucker, you and E can come, if you want! No fuckin’ plus one for you though!”

“Oh come the fuck on, Jack-Off!”

“Oh, make me a fuckin’ sandwich, big man!”

“Oh, I’ll make you a fuckin’ sandwich!”

“Oh, my dick!” A response that makes no sense, consistently the perfect bookend. You sigh, and finally, your eyes flit to the most terrified two in the room. “Berzattos… Holiday plans?”

“I think we’re gonna do dinner on Christmas Eve, and then the morning together? Well, I am.” Sug hesitates, she’s looking between Uncle Jimmy and Carmen. “I was gonna ask what Carm’s plan is…”

“I’ll go. I’ll go.” Carmen has to stop himself from biting the skin off the tips of his fingers. “I’ll go. And I’ll come to the party, after.” 

“I’ll probably just go home with Pete after. Baby’s first Christmas, y’know.” Natalie hums and nods awkwardly. There’s a question both of them want to ask. Neither of them are brave enough to ask it. And while you can sense there’s something dancing in the air, you’re not going to overstep on this front. 

“Mazel. I can buy silly decor with reason now. …Now let’s talk about the important grievances.” You hum, happy to end that chapter.

You turn just slightly to gently slap Richie’s cheek as he stands next to you. “Rich, you need to line your beard up, this neckbeard shit is pissing me off—”

“What’s with the fuckin’ drive by?!” “It’s been on my mind forever— You can’t be wearin’ suits and then be rockin’ that unkempt shit, clean up—” “I’m clean! I’m fucking clean!” “Who said? Who fuckin’ said? Cause I sure didn’t!” “How’m I s’posed to be linin’ my shit up every mornin’—” “You do not grow a beard that fast—” “Oh fuck you, I’m not fuckin’ Carmen, I grow a fuckin’ beard.”

Carmen’s just surprised to hear his name out of any name come up. “What– Now that’s a fucking drive by, what the fuck?” 

“If we’re voicing grievances, I’d like to voice my fuckin’ complaint with Captain Crash-Out over here—” “Who the fuck is sublimating now?” “You’re not usin’ that term correctly, cause you’re not integrated—” “I thought you two worked this out on the road trip!” “We did!”

You only half regret starting this feud with the beard comment— To be fair, you’re right. “This is it working?” 

“This is, in fact, it working.” Syd confirms plainly, her disappointment more than apparent. Rubbing the tips of her fingers to her temples. The fight is out of her, at this point. 

“Alright.” You slap your hands together. “Richie, what is your complaint?” Are you just union rep now? You might be a union rep now. 

“Carmen is fucking killing me.” The cocktail swishes and nearly spills as Richie points at the Chef, emphatic. “He won’t change shit for guests!”

“No substitutions!” It’s almost cultish, the way Sydney and Carmen yell it out together. 

Richie scoffs, head reeling back. “What happened to it bein’ about hospitality?” 

“I mean…” You suck air through your teeth, squinting. “If we’re sayin’ no substitutions, it’s no substitutions— Unless it’s like an allergy or sensory thing— But even then, it shouldn’t be like a major component getting replaced.”

“See? See?” It’s almost maniacal, rabid, how delighted Carmen is that you’re on his side. “Fuckin’ thank you. This is why I lo—” 

Before Carmen can finish his sentence, Richie flails about to suddenly throw the peach and blueberry skewer from his drink at Carmen— Not the pointed side, he doesn’t want to stab the guy. Just wants to save him from running his mouth. The peach slice hits Carm’s chest as Richie stutters out, “F-Fuck you, fuck you, fine. No substitutions— What the fuck am I supposed to say then?” speaking over whatever syllables fell out of Carmen’s mouth, muddling them. 

You cock your brow, but Carmen seems to quickly let the childish toss go, more than eager to move on. So you do too. “...Say some bullshit like, like, The Bear encourages —uhm— explorative culinary experiences where you let your taste buds go beyond your limitations and comforts— So eat a fuckin’ mushroom, you’re not gonna die.”

“If they don’t like mushrooms—” “Then they shouldn’t order it!” “How hard is it to just fuckin’ switch it out!?” “So hard! So hard! I think! I could guess!”

“I could do it.”

“Could you?” You cross your arms, leaning your weight onto one leg, pivoting to Richie. “Okay, roleplay, you’re Carmen, I’m you—” Just as Richie opens his mouth, you hold your index finger to his lips. “I know you wanna be a bitch, I’m askin’ you to just skip that part for me.”

His shit eating grin is only a little endearing. “How am I supposed to be in character if I’m not allowed to be a bitch?”

You clench and unclench your hands in the air, but let it go, opting to move on to your little thought experiment. “Chef, patient—” Instincts never give out, huh? “Christ, patron doesn’t want mushrooms in their anolini, I need you to sub it.”

“Ah, well I’m happy to do that for you, Host Richie, I—” He’s going to go into some scathing spiel, and you love the guy, but you have to rub dirt in the wound for the lesson to stick. 

You speak over him, voice stern, “Chef. In order to keep pace, I need you to make this call in fifteen seconds, what are you subbing it for?”

Richie’s head shakes back and forth as he scrambles to get his brain to work.“Fuckin— Fucking– Eggplant.” 

“Eggplant?” You ask politely, tone unsure. Carmen asks it with you, tone ridiculing. 

“It’s a sauce isn’t it?” You squint, turning your head to the actual Carmen. “It’s like a really thick mushroom sauce stuffed pasta?”

He tilts his head from side to side, but nods. In gist, yes. “It’s a ragout. Low and slow cooked stew—” Carmy’s ready to rave about it and teach you every facet of the dish, but perhaps that’s too romantic for a public setting. God, he’s weird about love. “We keep it going on our back burners all day— It takes an hour minimum to make from scratch, you can’t just sub it.” 

“Yeah, well…” Richie stops himself short of getting snarky for no reason all over again, taking a second to think about it. “Well, I didn’t know that. You didn’t explain that shit to me.”

“I don’t have time to hold your fuckin’ hand—” Carmen stops short of getting catty when you give him a very soft and yet gutting disappointed look. He pinches the bridge of his nose, sniffing. “I can’t explain why I do everythin’ I do when I’m— When we’re in a middle of a rush, I just need you to trust when kitchen says we can’t do it. Trust that I thought it through.”

Richie has to control himself, has to make sure the corners of his mouth don’t upturn just slightly, has to make sure it’s not clear that he is overjoyed that there’s finally middle ground, can’t get his hopes up. He nods. “I just wanna make everyone happy, y’know?”

“I know. You’re—” Carmen’s nose scrunches up for a second, God, he’s never had to say that he think’s Richie’s good to his face. And he’s not gonna start now, “Eggplant would be a good sub, if we had time.”

Richie prods his tongue along the side of his cheek, thinking. “Maybe I could look into knowin’ restrictions faster and estimatin’ their orders, so you can have ‘em on deck?”

And Carmen does think that’d be a waste of time, but he’s learning. He hears it out. “Could give it a shot, yeah.”

“Same team.” Richie reaches across the counter, and Carmen actually takes his hand, a quick dap. Civil.

“Same team.” First time you’ve heard Carmen adopt your idiom; you can’t help but smile, though you’re trying to hide it. You’re too focused on arguably the two most important men in your life to notice the silent conversation Uncle Jimmy is having with The Computer, speaking solely through nods and exchanged glances. 

Pay is for Chip. Cicero nods, and The Computer nods back. He gets it now. Pay is for Chip. Not just the mixologist, not just the sommelier, not just the repairman, not just the not-quite girlfriend, Chip. You’re Chip. You’re the cog, the piece. The grease between everyone. 

You’re the guy. Always have been, always will be. 

The silent conversation and the warm feeling in the room is cut short though, by The Computer. “Can she deal with the butter thing?”

“What the fuck is the butter thing?” You immediately jump onto the case, when Carmen looks down and away from you, you frown, leaning in. “What’s the butter thing?”

Jimmy snaps his fingers at The Computer, he hands him an invoice, which is then handed off to you. Old Major Farms, Orwellian Butter, salted and unsalted. $11,268. You just. Stare. The math comes all too easy to your head. Worth a week? 

“It’s the best.” Carmen repeats as your eyes remain worryingly unblinking. “It’s—”

“Carm.” Syd all but hisses, shaking her head in tight swivels, waving her hand around her neck for him to cut it. “Making it worse.”

“Angel is like, the worst it can get.” Hums Richie. Recalling your barometer of anger. Recalling the times when Mikey would say ‘what’s the point of paying bills?’ And you’d have to pull him aside. “Can’t get much lower than that besides—”

“Light of my life.” You look up from the paper in your hand, and both Richie and Sydney wince. Your voice is terrifyingly delicate as you nod over to the room behind you. “Apple of my eye. Can I speak to you in your office, please?”

Carmy’d like to say no. “...Yeah.” But you already started walking before he even answered, so there’s not much of a choice here. You head in by yourself, and thankfully, the door closes behind you, so Carmen’s got a second before he gets devoured. 

He walks around the counter, and as he nears the door, Richie grabs his arm. He whispers as he hands Carmen what’s left of his cocktail. “You need to lock the fuck in.”

“I know.” Carm returns, shooting down all that’s left of the lowball. Why’s Richie’s the sweet one? Why’d Carmen get the cough syrup drink? That’s not fair. Do you not think he’s sweet? “Thank you for the— Intercept.” 

Richie nods, he’s been unwillingly playing quarterback for Carmen since going to Rockefeller and seeing that goddamn giant tree and Carmen couldn’t stop opening his big fucking mouth after seeing you under the star. “Just think with your brain, not your—”

“Don’t.” “Was gonna say heart.” “Sure.” “Don’t be weird.”

“I know it’s expensive.” Carmen gets it out before even fully closing the door behind him, “But it’s normal prices, for high-end restaurants. I know it’s different—” He stops short when he finally turns around from the closed door, to see you, holding your painting. 

It’s facing you, you’re reviewing it in your hands where you sit in the office chair; the brown wrapping paper freshly ripped and on the floor. Carmen still doesn’t know what’s on the piece. 

“Carm.” You twist the piece around in your hand, turning it to him. He can see the nine squares. The Beef to The Bear. Mikey. “This is not another restaurant.”

Carmen continues to stare, silently, though he takes a step closer, reaching a hand out to graze over the canvas. You keep going, clarifying. “We’re not just another high-end restaurant. We’re us. And so we should be doing things like us. We’re the best, we don’t need the stuff to be.”

He was with you until that last part. His pursed lips say as much.

“It’s—” You smack your lips together, haphazardly handing him the canvas, he’s very quick to grab it with both hands, not wanting it unstable for a second. “Hold on, let me show you somethin’ — I think I left one in here.”

You roll the office chair back a bit, sinking down in the seat to reach far behind a tall cabinet; you have to pad your hand around in the dark nook for quite some time before you pull out— A screwdriver. An oddly shaped one, at that.

“...Has that been here the whole time?”

You nod. “Like threeish years at least, I think I threw it back there while telling it’s origin story. It’s part of the first set I ever got.” You grip the flat wooden handle. “It’s the worst screwdriver on earth, like, by far.” 

That gets a little chuckle out of Carmen. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You look up from it to him. “It’s a handmade set. Dad’s dad made it.” You awkwardly roll closer to him, he leans over, head next to your head as you both look down at it. “It’s got a flat wooden handle, made of poplar— So not only is it fucking impossible to get a good grip on, it’s also so fucking slippery. It’s part of a whole set, passed down from my grandpa to my dad to me.”

“Sounds fucked.”

“It is.” You laugh, and so does he. “It’s purposefully meant to piss you off.” You rub your thumb over the dent marks in the wood— All from the times you threw it at something— Including the very cabinet that it hid behind. “You ever wonder why I took over the handyman gig, bein’ the youngest and all?”

Carmy shrugs, glancing from the screwdriver to you. “Just assumed you were the best.”

That gets another laugh out of you, and Carmen’s overjoyed by the sound. “Yeah, I’m probably the best. But that’s only cause I kept up with it.”

You turn your head up to face Carmen again as you explain, “When our dad started bringing us to jobs as kids, he would make us exclusively use this set of screwdrivers— Sort of as a secret test. My brothers would get pissed off, as planned, and they’d quit and cry. And I dunno, I guess I’d cry and keep going? And I learned a couple tricks, eventually.”

“Tricks?”

“Like.” You pull back in the chair and run your hand across the office desk. The corners of it are screwed into the metal cabinet below it. “It’s really good if you’re screwing from the top down.” Using it as an example, you start to unscrew it. “It’s balanced. And it’s really all in the grip— Always loosen your grip with this one. Even if that seems counterintuitive.”

You get it to unscrew just fine with your loosened grip. “But if that doesn’t work, and you just can’t get it to work—” You lift the screwdriver in front of his face, showing off the sides of the handle. He smirks at the— “Just make your own grooves, it’ll be easier to hold.” Tiny teeth marks. 

“Carm.” You tap the handle to his nose as he zones in too much on it. “I’m the best repairman because I can work with anything. You’re the best Chef because you can work with anything. You don’t need the best when you’re the best.”

He’s the best? 

He’s the best. 

He’s the best. 

“I truly think you could make just as good a plate with Becel as this fucking Animal Farm butter.” 

Carmen’s the best. You think he’s the best. 

He’s gotta think with his head and not with his heart and not with anything else, either. Lock the fuck in, Carmen.

“I dunno bout all that.” He shrugs, bashful and attempting to hide it, trying to shake the praise off his back. 

“Well I know ‘bout that.” You shrug back, “I’m actually kind of a genius, when it comes to knowing who’s good and who’s not.”

“I don’t doubt that.” Carmy hums, and the sound is sweet without reservations. “...Painting is very good.” He nods to himself, on repeat, like a bobblehead. “Or I guess it’s less a painting and more a buncha photo transfers?”

“Yeah.” You set the screwdriver aside on the desk. “Most of them I took.”

“They’re good. It’s—” He pauses, tongue against his teeth. “It’s nice to see evidence he kept up, or somethin’.”

You nod, seeing Carmen’s brain struggle to keep pace in real time. “We took that one I think the day we talked to Uncle Jimmy about The Bear? Had to print out articles as proof we could make it work— Or, that you could make it work, rather.”

Carmen sniffs, crossing his arms, hands in tight fists— Probably too tight— where they hide. “Yeah, kinda fuckin’ up my end of the bargain, hm?” The light laugh that follows is hollow.

“Eh. You both did.” You smile, though it’s hesitant. “ But at least you’re still here fixing it.”

Still here. Still fixing it. That is in essence, the piece. Carmen gets lost staring at the squares, so you speak as he does. “I was trying to like. I dunno, replicate your brain.” He can see it. The messy yet coherent, controlled yet chaos. The love. The grief. The progress. The home. You see him. He can see that you see him. 

“11k for butter,” Carm’s head doesn’t move but his eyes raise to you. “Is a week. More than a week.”

Ah. Carmen can see you too, see your thought process. The Ascaso, worth one of the worst weeks of Mikey’s life. The fucking butter. Worth more than a week of Mikey’s sobriety. 

All you can do is nod solemnly. “It is, yeah.” 

He nods back, tongue prodding his cheek. “That’s too much.”

“I’d agree.”

“I’ll switch to local.” You make it easy for him to fix his mistakes, by giving him the space to realize them. 

“I think that’s the right call.” You nod, smiling. After a moment, you reach for Carmen to uncross his arms, and when he does, you take his fist and uncurl it— Your hand is a very soothing balm to the spots where he dug his nails into his own hand.

“Loosen your grip, Carmy.”

And so, he does. With a laugh and a look to high heaven, he loosens his grip. Really loosens his grip. Well— Not completely, he’s not going to say that, but he will say something that is just nearly as difficult but not quite. He'll bite down a little. He’ll make the grooves, for now, until his grip is good enough.

“Come to dinner with us?”

would you believe me if i said I had to rewrite a bit of this last scene because intially it went so rom-com and I was so disgusted when I reread it in the morning I had to stare at it in the subway ride to work like "what the fuck am I gonna do"

was this chapter good? God I hope so. I felt like with where we're going, it was kinda necessary to do Chip's onboard, set the stage for what work is like for her. I had to loosen my own grip with this one lmao. just allow myself to be a LITTLE messy. if it's bad, lie to me. tell me sweet little lies peach

DAD REVEAL THOUGH EH? MR CK!!! So much did happen this chapter. Chips on board! Squid Ink moving in together era commences! Christmas party!! Also. Would you believe me if I told you no shit syd was gonna move, she was planning it in S2, but I was planning this whole time for Ink to get evicted!! I want those fuckers to be roommates STAT!!!

anyways, i really hope i remembered to write down everyone that asked to be added to the taglist, i might've not. i'm very sorry if i didnt

oh also if you wanna be added!! send in your thoughts!! words for words baby, essay for essay cmonnn gimme ur character analysis!! (oh and also ask to be added, ofc)

@hoetel-manager , @fridavacado @sharkluver , @spectacular-skywalker , @silas-aeiou , @deadofnight0 , @sunbreathingstuff , @anytim3youwant @navs-bhat @whoknowswhoiamtoday @gills-lounge @blueaproncarmy @itsallacotar @catsrdabestsocks101 @popcornpoppin @renaissance-painting @lostinwonderland314 @v0ctin @ashtonweon @mrs-perfectly-fine @thefreakingbear @anytim3youwant

[candycandy00]

The Maiden’s Voyage - A Sukuna x Reader Fanfic Part 3

You’re a passenger on a ship attacked by pirates. The pirate captain Sukuna chooses you to be his entertainment for the voyage.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. AU. Sukuna as a Pirate Captain. Noncon/Rape! Very rough sex! Bondage. Violence. Blood. Spanking (with belt). Sukuna is a cruel, sadistic monster here! You’ve been warned!

Part of CandyCandy’s 2k Followers Event! There will be multiple parts because I got really attached to this idea and it was getting too long. Any feedback, comments, reblogs, etc. will make my day sunny and bright! 💖 Dividers by @benkeibear!

Pure, unbridled terror overwhelms you as Captain Sukuna drags you back into his quarters and slams the door shut behind him. He’s angry, you can feel it even though he’s still wearing his regular, smug expression. The fact that he’s not outwardly showing his rage is somehow even scarier. 

“Sukuna, I’m sorry! I-“

He suddenly rips the dress over your head, cutting off your pleading voice. You’ve been naked in this room many times, but you’ve never felt more vulnerable. You curl in on yourself, wrapping your arms around your body as you shrink away from him. 

“Do you know what I usually do to women who try to escape?” he asks, stepping closer to you. 

You shake your head, tears pouring down your face. 

He grins. “I use a hammer to break their ankles. Then I force them to dance for me.”

You look him in the eyes. “Is that what you’re going to do to me?”

He stares at you, and for a brief moment, the smirk disappears, and an unreadable expression replaces it. But it only lasts a moment before he grins again. “No. I don’t want to hinder your ability to get on your knees for me. You suck my cock so well after all.”

Sukuna puts his hand on your face, wiping your tears gently. “But I have to punish you. You understand that, right? So I’m going over options in my mind.” His hand moves, his thumb brushing over your lips. “I could break your fingers one by one. Watching you try to jack me off with your little mangled fingers might be exciting. Or I could dig one those pretty eyes out of its socket and keep it as a souvenir.”

You flinch as his fingers come dangerously close to one of your eyes. Both his hands are on you now, pulling your arms away from your body. “Of course the easiest way would be to hand you over to my crew for the night, let them take turns fucking all your holes.”

All you can do is look up at him with teary eyes, the occasional shudder or hiccup shaking your body. 

“But I don’t like sharing my toys,” he says, one hand moving to your hair while the other slides down to lightly grope your breast. He jerks your head back by your hair, then kisses you roughly. When he pulls away, he says in that smooth voice of his, “Thirty lashes. With my belt.”

“What?” you ask, not sure you heard him right. 

“That’s the punishment I decided on. I’ll give you thirty lashes. That’s the standard on this ship, though we use a whip on the men. I’ll be extremely lenient with you and use my belt.”

You blink away your tears. Being whipped with a belt will surely be painful and humiliating, but it’s far better than broken bones or gouged out eyes. “Why?” you find yourself asking him. “Why be lenient with me?”

He pulls you closer, your body flush against his. “Because I don’t want to completely break you just yet. You’re so delicate,” he says, his large hands moving over your nude, trembling body, “the slightest little thing could crush you. I’m not done playing with you yet.”

You shudder under his touch, his fingers ghosting over your bruises. The room isn’t cold, but you feel an inexplicable chill. 

“Now get on the bed, on your hands and knees,” he commands. 

You do as you’re told, not wanting to anger him any further. When you’re on the bed, facing his headboard, you suddenly feel shaky on his firm mattress. “L-like this?” you ask. 

“Raise your ass higher,” he says, “and spread your knees.” 

You glance back at him in time to see him pulling his shirt off, those mesmerizing tattoos moving with his taut muscles as he unbuckles his thick leather belt. 

He’s seen every inch of you so many times by now, but somehow you feel more embarrassed than usual as you follow his orders. You move your knees far apart and lean slightly forward so that your ass lifts higher than the rest of you. In this position, your pussy is totally exposed. You bury your face in his sheets, mortified. 

“Keep your face up,” he says, stepping closer and wrapping one end of his belt around his fist. “I want to enjoy the expressions you make.”

You look over your shoulder at him as he stands behind you. “Monster,” you mutter under your breath. 

“What was that?” 

“N-nothing!”

He grins, his red eyes seeming to glow menacingly. “I’ll show you a monster.” 

Then, he swings the belt down, hitting it right across both your ass cheeks with enough force to knock your body forward a few inches on the bed. Fresh tears fill your eyes at the pain. You didn’t think it would hurt this much! 

Whack! 

The second hit is somehow worse than the first, and you choke back a sob. You’re supposed to endure thirty of these?!

Whack!

You clamp your hand over your mouth to avoid screaming. In your mind, you’re repeating a mantra: it’s better than broken bones! It’s better than broken bones! 

Whack!

This one hit directly where a previous strike had, and it occurs to you that there’s only so much space on your ass. Meaning most of the hits are going to be on already damaged flesh. 

Whack! 

You whimper, finally letting pitiful cries escape you. 

Sukuna pauses, stepping around to the side to look at your face. “Don’t tell me you’re breaking already,” he says in a mocking tone. 

“It hurts!” you cry, your hands gripping the sheets beneath you. 

Suddenly you feel his hand on your sore ass. He squeezes it, making you yelp. “It’s supposed to hurt,” he tells you. “This is a punishment, remember? Though I’m not sure your slutty body understands that.”

You look back at him. “What?”

He’s behind you again, staring between your quivering legs. “You’re a mess back here, dripping all over my bed. It’s running down your thighs.”

No way. That can’t be true! You’re not enjoying this! But now that he’s mentioned it, you can feel the wetness there, the fluid sliding down your skin. More humiliated than ever, you try to hide your face again. That’s when his hand slides down, his fingers slipping inside your soaked pussy. 

You gasp, your body jerking. Your first instinct is to try to crawl away, but his fingers feel so good! They’re stroking you just right, and the pleasure is such a sweet distraction from the pain. You let out a weak moan, and you hear Sukuna laugh. 

“You want me to fuck you, don’t you? You’re clenching around my fingers.”

“No!” you cry, you legs growing wobbly from the pleasure. “It just… it just…”

His thumb glides over your clit. “It just what?”

“It just feels good!” you scream, on the verge of climax. 

He moves his hand away, and you whine at the loss. “I’m not letting you cum,” he says, and he brings the belt down again. This time the rough leather collides with your sensitive pussy, and the sting of it makes your vision go white. You cry out, but Sukuna is merciless, giving you five more lashings in the same spot, reducing you to a sobbing mess. 

“Now you’ve got my belt sticky,” he says, holding it up. You can see parts of it glistening with your juices. 

“Please, I don’t think I can take anymore!”

He moves to the side again, this time putting a hand on top of your head, rubbing your hair. “You can, and you will. And when it’s over, I’ll reward you. I’ll make you cum until you lose your mind, then I’ll fuck this needy little cunt until you can’t walk.”

*********************

Sukuna loves the look on her face, the mixture of arousal and pain. He’s already so hard he could burst out of his pants, and watching her drenched pussy twitch and leak is making it very difficult for him. But he’s strong enough to hold back until her punishment is over. 

He continues the lashings, enjoying the sight of the red stripes appearing on her soft skin. Droplets of blood bead along some of the lines, and she makes the sweetest whimpers and sobs. She’s shaking, the sheets balled into her small fists, her lovely face wet with tears. He has to start talking to keep himself from cumming at the mere sight of her. 

“Why did you wait so long to try escaping?” he asks her. “I was just about to give up and go back to my cabin. Were you afraid of getting caught? Or… something else?”

Her voice is so small when she answers, “Something… else…” between strikes. 

“Oh?” Has she broken down to the point that she can’t think to lie? “And what would that be?”

She doesn’t answer, so he gives her a particularly hard strike, and she cries out, dropping her head onto the mattress. He gives her a moment to catch her breath. When she raises her head again, she looks back at him. Her pretty face looks so embarrassed! It’s delicious! 

“I just… had trouble walking out the door,” she finally says. “I don’t know why!”

His hand moves to her wet, quivering pussy again, rubbing it gently. She flinches, probably because of the lines etched into the delicate skin by his belt. “I see. Your body is growing addicted to the pleasure I give you.”

As if to emphasize his point, his fingers stroke her clit, making her moan. 

If Sukuna were honest with himself, he’d admit that he’s also becoming addicted to her body, to the way it responds to his touch, to the way she feels wrapped tightly around his cock. 

To the way she looks at him and says his name. 

There’s only a few lashings left, and bizarrely, Sukuna is eager to finish them. Is it because he wants to fuck her as soon as possible? Or because he’d rather hear her moan than sob? 

He’s being very lenient with her already. He didn’t lie when he told her he usually broke the ankles of those who attempted escape. And he did actually consider doing it to her. But when he looked into her terrified eyes, he just couldn’t bear the thought of maiming her. 

It’s strange. He finds the pain of others arousing, especially that of beautiful women. And he certainly enjoys hurting this lovely maiden. But he doesn’t think he could enjoy seriously injuring her. 

“Last one,” he announces as he swings the belt down a final time. Her body jolts from the impact, but she holds back any sound. Her shoulders are shaking, and he feels the inexplicable urge to pull her into his arms and hold her. But he doesn’t. 

“I believe I promised you a reward.”

She looks back at him sharply as his fingers begin caressing her sore, striped body. “Wait, please, I can’t-“

He finds her clit, rubbing it gently, and her words become a moan. Perhaps as a reflex, her body presses back, toward his hand. He looks over the red lines covering her flesh, admiring the way they criss-cross to make beautiful patterns. He traces them with his other hand, then begins lightly kissing them. 

She shudders, sighing softly. The small droplets of her blood cling to his lips, and he licks them clean. Every part of her tastes so sweet. Speaking of which…. 

“Ahhh!” she cries out when she feels his mouth on her dripping pussy, his tongue invading her folds to lap at her swollen clit. He wants to bite her, but remembers this is a reward, so he licks gently until her whole body trembles and she nearly collapses. She cries through her orgasm, overwhelmed by sensation. 

He continues licking her, his fingers sliding in and out of her. Totally exhausted, her arms give way, and her top half falls limply on the mattress, her ass still slightly elevated and her thighs still spread. It’s such a vulnerable position, it’s almost pitiful. But how can Sukuna resist such a feast laid out before him? 

He makes her cum twice more with his mouth, leaving her weeping and pleading for him to stop. She’s overstimulated, sore, and probably getting emotional. That much is obvious. But Sukuna hasn’t had his fun yet, so he opens his pants and pulls out his rock hard cock, then shoves it into her tender, drooling pussy. 

She cries out in sheer desperation, her body practically a rag doll at this point. He firmly grips her waist and pulls it back toward him at the same time as he thrusts into her, allowing him to penetrate even deeper than ever. He thought she’d lost all strength, unable to move, but she’s clenching him so tightly that he has to think of the smelliest, grossest member of his crew for a moment to try to calm himself down. 

He slams into her, over and over, while she lies there with her tear streaked face smashed against the sheets. Poor little thing. She doesn’t even realize her night is just getting started. 

******************

The next few days go by in a blur. You spend all your time in Sukuna’s quarters. If he’s in the room, he’s usually fucking you, or he’s looking over maps at his desk while you suck him off underneath it. 

When you’re alone, you sleep. Once a day you bathe in his private washroom. So far he’s given you no restrictions on how often you can use the bathroom or what you can eat. From what you can tell, you eat the same things he does. 

One day you realize with a start that you’re looking forward to him returning to his room, looking forward to seeing his face. You can’t understand why. You’ve come to crave his touch, even though he’s rough and often hurts you. Because sometimes, his touch brings you so much pleasure that you think you might die. 

“We’re stopping at a small port today,” he tells you out of the blue. “Just to load up on supplies. You’ll be staying in my quarters of course.”

You nod, having no desire to risk another escape attempt. You got off easy last time. If it happens again, he’ll surely do something terrible to you. 

Sukuna leaves, and you spend the day waiting for his return. When he comes back hours later, he reaches you something wrapped in brown paper. “What is this?” you ask him. 

“A present. Something that suits you more.”

You can’t imagine what it could be, but you sit on the bed and carefully open the package. Inside, you find a beautiful dress made of red velvet with white lace trim. You hold it up, marveling at its luster. “This is for me?”

He’s grinning as he watches you. “Try it on. I think I guessed your measurements well.”

You hurriedly pull off the tattered dress you’ve been wearing, barely feeling any embarrassment at all at this point. Then you pull on the new dress. It fits you perfectly, and feels luxurious. You rush over to the mirror in the corner of the room and look at your reflection. You’re bruised and your hair is a mess, but the dress looks lovely on you. 

“It doesn’t compare to your beauty, but it’s better than the rag you were wearing,” he says. 

You feel heat flood your face. You don’t know how to react when he says something like that. “Thank you for the dress. I love it.”

“Good,” he says. “I’ll try not to rip it off you.”

Two days later, Sukuna invites you to join him on the deck. There’s no celebration this time, but the sun is setting over the water, and he pulls you close to him as the two of you watch. 

It’s a quiet, peaceful moment, and you almost begin to relax for the first time in days. But then you hear a strained voice say, “Sukuna!”

Both you and the captain turn around to find a man standing a few feet away. He’s clutching a shiny silver dagger in both hands as he stares at the two of you. Sukuna looks at him for a moment then says, “You’re not a member of my crew. Who are you?”

The man has rage in his eyes as he says, “My fiancé was on a ship you raided a month ago. You bastards murdered her and left her body ripped open on the deck! Now I’m going  to kill your woman!”

Everything happens so fast. The man lunges at you, pointing the blade right at your chest. You scream and try to put your hands up in a defensive manner. And at the last second, Sukuna moves in front of you, his tall body creating a shield. You hear the terrible sound of a blade stabbing into flesh, and blood splatters across the wooden deck as you cry out Sukuna’s name. 

[skulla-rxcks]

A wolfs puppies

Paring: werewolf!chan x fem reader

Rating: explicit

Genre: smut

Warnings: cr3ampie, breedlng

Day 31 of k-tober

Taglist: @f3lix00 @channiesgoodgirl @mal-lunar-28

!THIS IS PURE FICTION, NOTHING IN THIS IS REAL ITS JUST A STORY!

A/n: sorta pt2 of werewolf in heat, it’s not needed to read it but you’ll understand what’s happening better if you do :)

P.s; i’m afraid kinktober has come to an end, thank you for all the new supporters and all of the reads on my stuff throughout this month, as much as it’s been tiring for me, i’m really fucking thankful for all of you <3

It’s been a while since I’ve been in the woods, after what happened last time I mean; a whole fucking werewolf fucked me against a tree, definitely something that wouldn’t happen on a daily day basis, hell. I didn’t even believe in myths like werewolves before then. Maybe I should go back and see how he’s doing, If I remember correctly Chan was his name.

Anyways I should probably head off now, maybe I’ll bring him some food too? Maybe I’ll meet others like him sometime. I sigh going to my fridge and grabbing a chunk of cooked beef, he’d eat that right? Either way, I slip on my boots and exit my house, as I shut the door I think about why the fuck am I going out at like 12AM again, but whatever I guess, it’s a full moon tonight so hopefully that’ll up my chances of him showing up.

I made my way to the path once again and begin to walk down it, a smile forming on my face as I see the familiar trees get closer and closer to me. I continue to walk down the pavement until I reach the lake, taking a seat on the log before frantically looking around if I can find the strange creature from about a week ago.

The stars are brighting so I pay my attention to them as I’m waiting for the man/werewolf thing to come out of the shadows. It doesn’t take long until I hear a rustle in the bushes, followed along with someone tapping my shoulder.

“Oh, you’re back” a voice says to me, I turn around. It’s Chan, it’s really him. “Y-yeah I uhm, wanted to see how you were doing.” I stutter as my cheeks become visibly flustered.

“Ah, I’m not too bad myself, what about you?” He replies. As I’m thinking of an answer I pull the slab of meat out from my bag and hand it to him. “I’m okay, t-this is for you, I sort of have an idea what you’ll eat but I also don’t..” I turn my head embarrassed.

“Oh thank you~ of course I’ll eat anything from you.” The creature smirks. “So why did you come here this late again? It’s pretty dangerous for a girl to be walking alone in the woods, or perhaps.. you wanted something from me” Chan whispers into my ear before pulling away to see my bright red face.

“I.. I told you, I just.. wanted to see how you’ve been and if you want anything else from me..” a splash of fear and lust runs through my veins, also being visible on my face too.

“Hmm? Only that? Fucking boring, well may I at least one thing. Has your body recovered from me breaking your pretty little cunt yet..?” He grins, taking my hands in his.

“C-chan.. why are you asking?” I question, feeling my cunt grow wet as I drip down my thighs.

“Because I want to fuck you again. I want to breed you, fill you with my puppies and claim you as mine.” He responds boldly with no hesitation at all, making me gasp in shock as I feel my body growing weak due to the slutty words he’s saying to me.

“Couldn’t stop thinking about how fucking good you felt around me. Please, may I?” Chan asks me, I nod in response letting the strange werewolf begin to strip me of my clothes, he unbuttons my jeans and slides my panties off, taking my shirt and bra off slowly after, he licks his lips at the sight of my tits, wanting to touch me, wanting to fuck me, but most importantly; Wanting to pleasure me until I can’t take it anymore.

“Channie… please.” Whimpers fell out of my mouth as he begins to make circular motions with his fingers around my clit, making me buck my hips for more. “Patience baby doll.” Chan chuckles, moving his head down between my thighs and taking my swollen clit In into his mouth and sucking on it lightly. “Mmgh.. more.. I need you inside of me..” I cry out. He thrusts two fingers into my cunt slowly changing the speed and pressure of the thrusts. “There you go, I’m inside of you now”

“N-no..” I whine. “No?”

“Dick.. I want your dick.. I need your cock in me..” I plead, needing more of him so fucking badly.

“You whine so fucking much..” he growls, positioning his tip at my opening before slowly pushing me open, I let out an airy gasp as he does so. It’s almost like I’ve forgotten how thick his cock is. “B-big” I moan, wrapping my legs around his waist as he begins to pound in and out of my tight, wet hole, stretching it really fucking good. Way better than last time we did this. “Yeah fuck.. god you’re such a good girl.” He praises me, this thrusts getting more and more rougher than ever before, making me squeal out in pleasure. “Shh” he chuckles, connecting his lips to mine making our mouths dance together, as well as our tongues.

“Chan..~” I moan into the kiss, feeling myself get tighter as I drive closer towards my orgasm, hoping he also is. “Mm, I wanna fill your pretty hole with my pups..” Chan teases, pulling away from the kiss to watch my face as he’s fucking me good, making my body into his property. “Please.. please” I answer him, wanting him to feel me with his seed until I can’t take anymore. “Yeah? You wanna get filled with my cum until you take all of my puppies?” He teases, a chuckle escaping his mouth as he hears how god damn eager I am for him to thoroughly breed my cunt until his balls are dead empty from spilling all of his semen inside of my hole. “Yes.. yes please, give me your babies.. please Chan..” I beg again, tears beginning to swell up in my eyes from how badly I want this.

“Mm, I’m gonna fill you up. You ready babes?” He smirks, holding my body still holding himself from releasing as he waits for my answer. “M-mhm, do it.. I want to carry your puppies.” I cry out, my pussy tightening around his cock as he finally, fills me up with his seed, not pulling out until he’s certain that all of it’s gone into my womb. I climax not long after, my nails scraping into his back as I cum around him. “Do you wanna come back to mine for a bit? So we’re out of this shitty looking forest?” I ask, blushing. “Of course babes.”

[butdaddyilovehim-hs]

The Wedding

Y/N is stressed planning for their wedding and Harry can’t seem to do anything right.

Warnings: angst, sad ending, explicit language

Word Count: 1.2k

Y/N gazed at the bling on her finger, the stone catching in the sunlight. It had been 6 months since she had said yes and wedding planning was in full swing. Of course with Harry being CEO of one of the largest Fortune 500 companies in the world, their wedding was all any of the tabloids were talking about.

Harry and Y/N. London’s power couple. There were now less than 2 months before the big day and Y/N had everything under control. Well… she thought she did. Y/N sighed and rubbed her temples as she stared at the seating chart, a massive binder beside her. A steaming cup of coffee was placed in front of her as Harry kissed the top of her head before sitting down next to her.

“Y/N. You’ve been staring at those charts for the last two hours. Why don’t you take a break?” She raised an eyebrow before taking a deep breath.

“Take a break? Are you kidding me? Our wedding is in 2 months Harry. And the seating plan still isn’t finished. I still haven’t bought my dress, you haven’t been to get a tux and we haven’t booked the flowers. We haven’t booked the flowers Harry!” He chuckled before tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

“It’s going to be fine Y/N. Ok let me help. We can have our parents seated together on table 2… wait. Your mom isn’t on this list?” Y/N sighed as Harry looked up at her quizzically.

“I don’t know if I want to invite her. We still haven’t worked out all of our issues and I don’t need her coming in and running the whole show.”

“Why don’t you invite her for a visit? You need to work things out and I’m sure she would love nothing more than to be there for you on our day.” Y/N took a large sip of her coffee, shaking her head violently.

“Nope. No way Harry. I can’t deal with her right now. I’m stressed enough as it is.”

“But maybe if you tried you could-”

“I said NO Harry. Stop pushing it.” She turned her attention back to the seating chart, shutting him out completely. Harry watched her for a few moments before shaking his head and walking to the study. She’s just overwhelmed, he told himself. We’re going to be fine.

~

3 weeks later Y/N felt like she was drowning. She had found her dress but it was the wrong size since she had lost so much weight for the wedding. Everyone was getting on her nerves. Even Harry. Well… especially Harry. She heard the front door open then close and tore her gaze away from her planner to see Harry come in through the front door. Noticeably, without a tux. He leant down to kiss her hello, before noticing her annoyed glare.

“Everything ok hun?”

“Harry… where’s your tux?” Y/N asked coolly. His expression turned to confusion.“Y/N, what are you talking about? You told me last week to pick it up on Wednesday. It’s- he checked the date on his phone- shit. I thought it was Tuesday. Doesn’t matter, I'll just go tomorrow.” Y/N slammed her book shut before glaring at him once more.

“You can’t just “go tomorrow.” They’re closed for the next 3 weeks Harry. You won’t have time to make any adjustments if it’s wrong. God why can’t you just listen for once?!” She bit out frustrated.

Harry laughed dryly.

“Why can’t I just listen for once? Jesus Y/N, I have been listening to you for the past 6 months complain about each tiny thing that has gone wrong. Big deal. I forgot to collect it. I’ll go and get it when I can. Calm down.” Y/N stood up from the couch seething.

“Calm down? Are you fucking serious? I am so busy Harry. I have a company to run and the wedding of the year to plan. Have you seen these tabloids? I am so sick of all of them asking whether or not I’m having a baby because I seem to have ‘gained a little weight’ lately. I’m asking you to do one thing and you can’t even do that. What have you done to help me Harry? I am so sick of you.”

“Oh my god Y/N what the hell is wrong with you? It’s our wedding, it’s not the hunger games. No one is dying if it isn’t perfect. I don’t understand why you-” The doorbell rang, silencing the both of them.

Y/N stalked over to the door and wrenched it open.

“My baby!” Y/N spat out a mouthful of blonde hair as she was brought into a bone-crushing hug.

“I’ve missed you so much! And a wedding? When Harry called me last week to invite me, I just couldn’t believe it!” Y/N tugged out of the hug shooting a death glare at her fiance.

“Harry did what?” Lauren Williams beamed at her daughter, oblivious to the tension in the room.

“He invited me to the wedding honey.” She repeated patiently. Lauren moved around to give Harry a hug.

“I can’t wait to help you with everything sweetie. Have you chosen a dress? Can I see? What about flowers? Because they can be hard to-”

“Mom,” Y/N said through gritted teeth. “I just need to have a quick chat with Harry ok?”

Y/N dragged Harry to the spare bedroom down the hall to make sure Lauren couldn’t hear them.

“Ok what the fuck Harry? I specifically told you I didn’t want her here!” Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“I thought it would be better for you guys to sort out your issues before the wedding but it seems like we have some stuff to work out ourselves.” Y/N huffed before crossing her arms over her chest.

“Yeah? No kidding. This is another example of you not listening. You don’t make an effort Harry and it drives me insane since I’m here fighting for this wedding. For us.” Harry snapped.

“Well if it’s so difficult for you then maybe we should call off the wedding! This clearly isn't working for us anymore! He yelled.

Y/N’s mouth snapped shut, her anger replaced with sadness. Her eyes glistened with tears and her bottom lip trembled.

“Are you… serious?” She asked quietly. “You just want to give up on us?” Because of an argument?” Harry pinched the bridge of his nose, his frustration evident.

“One argument? All we do is argue! I haven’t had a single conversation with you that hasn’t ended with one of us screaming in the last 2 weeks. I don’t know what you want from me Y/N! I’m trying. I swear to god I’m fucking trying.”

“So is that what we’re doing then? Calling it off?”

“No Y/N I didn’t mean that. I just-”

“No, you made it pretty clear what you meant.” She let the tears fall freely now, dodging around him to get through the door, grabbing her purse off the table ignoring the confused look from her mother.

“Y/N, come back! We can work this out.”

“I have to get out of here Harry.” She rushes out onto the street, tears clouding her vision, her one goal being to get to her car. She doesn’t hear Harry screaming her name until it’s too late. The car hits her just as she looks up, but she’s unconscious before she can even feel the pain.

A/N: 🫠

Taglist:

@lukesaprince @intimacywithceline @styleslover-1994

[madomens]

Face It (18+)

Chapter 4

warnings: alcohol

word count: 2.2k

chapter 4

*3 months later*

It’s been three months and I haven’t heard from Noah. I know it’s for the best but I can’t help but wonder if he’s been fucking around while I sit at home wondering if he ever really cared about me.

“Noel, babe, staring at your phone isn’t going to make him text you,” KB tells me.

I sigh and place my phone face down on my counter.

“Why don’t you just text him?”

I look at her and grab the bottle of wine off the top of the refrigerator. “Fuck that. You know I’m not about to text first,” I say taking a sip.

I offer her the bottle and she takes it, pouring a glass for herself.

“Thank you for taking off today to be with me. I needed a girls day,” I smile and give her a hug.

Noah’s POV

“Dude, why don’t you call her?” Nicholas asks me. I haven’t talked to Noel in months now but it almost feels better this way. With our tour ending soon and working on our new album, I’ve barely had time to think but when I get any kind of free time, she’s all I think about.

“And say what?” I scoff. “Hey Noel I know I haven’t talked to you in months but I miss you and just want you to know I’m kind of in love with you?”

Nicholas’ eyes go wide at the last part and he smirks at me.

“Well you do talk about her every time we do anything. Have you heard the lyrics you’ve written lately? Maybe you should get over yourself and tell her how you feel.”

“I second that!” I hear Jolly yell from the back of the tour bus.

“Ughh is everyone against me right now?” I sit down on the couch.

I know they’re right but it would be pointless if I couldn’t actually do anything about it.

“You know what they say man. If you love someone you’ll make it work regardless,” Folio says as if reading my mind.

“Oh my god okay I’ll call her. Can everyone shut up now,” I put my face in my hands. “But after tonight because I need to be a hundred percent at the show.”

Nicholas throws his hands up like he just won a bet.

“I told you he’d do it!” He gives Folio a high five.

The show in California tonight went exactly the way we wanted. High energy crowds are always easy to entertain, especially during Dethrone. I tried to push Noel to the back of my mind so I could give my all but it’s almost like I saw her in every face.

“Easily one of the best shows this tour,” Matt tells us as we walk into the green room, high fiving us each.

I grab a white claw out of the mini fridge and sit back on the couch, watching the guys talk about the show tonight.

“Are you alright?” Matt asks, sitting down next to me.

“Yeah man I’m just exhausted. As much as I love doing all these shows, sometimes I think I need a break. But we can’t slow down now,” I smile at him.

He gives me a look, questioning me. “Since when does Noah Sebastian want to take a break?”

“Since he wants to fix things with Noel but refuses,” Jolly jumps into our conversation.

“I told you I’m going to call her,” I roll my eyes. And I thought I was the one so adamant about getting things done.

Finishing my drink, it’s time for us to get to the hotel we booked for a few days while we have a short break between shows.

I take some time in the shower to think about what I really want to say to Noel. The hot water feels amazing against my tense muscles and I feel like I can stay here for hours.

By the time I get out of the shower, it’s already 11 pm. I don’t even know if Noel is still awake right now.

NOELS POV

“There’s no way you actually told him that!!” I yell, feeling the effects of the wine we’ve been drinking all day.

KB laughs and continues her story about how she found out Brendan, her baby daddy, was cheating on her.

“He really thought he would get the last laugh,” she winks at me.

After a minute of drunk laughter, my phone vibrates next to me. I look to see Noah on my screen. What the fuck?

“Kaleigh he’s calling me. What do I do?” I ask in a panic.

“ANSWER IT BITCH!”

“Oh god okay.”

“Hello?”

“Noel hey. You weren’t asleep were you?”

“No, not at all. I’m with KB. Everything okay?”

KB gives me a look and continues drinking her wine.

“Oh sorry. I can call another ti-“

“No no it’s alright. Shes just about to leave actually.” I shake my head, no at KB, telling her not to actually leave. I need my best friend for this in case it goes like last time.

“Oh okay. I wanted to talk to you. I didn’t like the way we left things the last time we talked. I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said and I want to try.”

My heart stops for a minute as his words register.

“What’s he saying??” Kaleigh mouths to me.

I wave her away as I try to find my words.

“You want to try? Try what Noah?”

“Us.”

My mouth drops open for a second. I definitely wouldn’t have started day drinking if I knew this is how it would go.

“What does that mean? What about you not having time?”

“I can’t stop thinking about you. I’m going to try to make us work along with the band and everything else. I can’t stand another day of wondering ‘what if’”

The lump in my throat doesn’t seem to dissipate, finally hearing the words I wanted to hear all along.

“What changed your mind?”

“You did, Noel.”

Kaleigh still trying to hear everything, has her ear pressed against mine. I stand up and walk to the kitchen to try to get some kind of alone time.

“Where are you right now?”

“California. But in a week we’ll be done with touring. I want to come see you again. I miss you.”

Is this really happening right now?

“I miss you too. Come. I mean I’ll be here and you know where the key is.”

Noah laughs, a sound that I’ve desperately missed.

“Okay. I’ll um call you tomorrow?”

“Yeah that’s great. I’ll talk to you tomorrow Noah.”

After hanging up, KB immediately asks what was said. My cheeks are painfully hot as I take in everything that was just said.

“He said he wants to try us being together I think,” I know I look a hot mess smiling so big but I never thought he would actually come around to it. I know how important the band is to him so I’m a little worried about how this will all go.

KB shrieks and jumps up and down giving me a huge hug.

“I knew he wanted to be with you! I’ve seen the way yall are around each other. I’m happy for you, babe!” She hands me the almost empty bottle of wine and brings her cup up in the air. “A toast. To you and Noahhh.”

I clink my bottle against her glass and say, “Cheers!”

Maybe it’s the alcohol in my system but now that I’ve finally talked to Noah again, I want to call him back and tell him all about how the past few months have been. I want to ask him how tour is going and just hear him talk.

“Okay I am so so happy for you but it is 11:30 and we both work tomorrow. I need to head home and make sure my baby is in the bed,” KB gives me another hug.

“I love you so much! Thank you for spending today with me, Ill see you in the morning,” I tell her as she leaves.

I took a quick shower and did my skin care routine fairly quickly. It’s already 12:42 in the morning so I can still get a decent amount of sleep if I go to sleep soon, but laying in the bed, all I think about is that phone call with Noah. Still feeling the effects of the wine has me excited about the way he sounded so confident in wanting us to be together. That tiny bit of worry in my mind tells me not to get too excited just yet.

I tell myself that this is what I’ve wanted for a long time and silence the worry, eventually falling asleep with Noah heavy on my mind.

“Fuuuuck,” I wake up in a panic for the second time this week, grabbing my phone out from under my pillow. I have to stop drinking the night before work, I think to myself as I jump out of bed to quickly get ready for work at 9:50.

I brush my teeth and throw my hair up in a claw clip, usually taking the time to do something cute with it when i'm not thirty minutes late waking up. No time to do my makeup at home so I grab the essentials and grab a Celsius energy drink from my fridge, leaving right at 10. At least I won’t be late this time.

“Jesus, Noel, rough night?” My manager, John, looks me up and down as I walk in and get straight to opening up the bar.

“Yeah, something like that,” I chug my Celsius hoping to get a little more energy.

Work goes by so slowly, I think about taking a nap in the server room. Monday mornings are always the slowest, especially when its 20 degrees (farenheit) outside. You’re telling me no one wants a vodka cran at 11 am on a Monday? Crazy. That honestly doesn’t sound too bad to me right now.

“One more thing before you leave Noel,” John tells me as I’m about to head out the door to go home. “Me and KB were talking a few days ago about maybe seeing how you feel about being a key holder.”

Oh god I knew this would come eventually. Being a key holder is basically a step down from being a manager, and I’ve seen so many servers and bartenders work their way up and end up absolutely hating it. It’s like as soon as you get a polo shirt, everyone treats you like shit. I think I’ll pass up on that wonderful opportunity.

“Before you give me an answer, I want to explain to you why I think you’d be a good fit,” he goes on about how I’ve been here for a while and how I take work seriously and yadda yadda, the usual spill. “Just take a few days to think on it and let me know.”

“Yeah sure I’ll let you know. Did KB recommend me or something? I mean why talk to her and not another manager?” I question.

“Well we asked her first and she declined us and told me you might be interested,” he smiles.

As if right on cue, my phone starts ringing. Thank you Noah.

“I have to take this. See you tomorrow,” I tell John, walking out of Shiners for the day.

“Thank god you have no idea how you just saved me from a thirty minute conversation with John”

Noah chuckles over the line.

“Well you know me, always right on time.”

“So tell me about touring! How are the guys?”

“So good. This is definitely an unforgettable one for sure. Matt thinks with the new album we could really move up in the charts. The guys are all good.”

He pauses for a second and clears his throat before continuing.

“It was actually the guys that kept pushing me to call you. Folio wasn’t lying when he told you I really don’t shut up about you.”

I don’t think my smile can get any bigger than it is right now.

“Well I’m glad you listened to them. Things have been kind of a mess since you left the way you did. I want to apologize to you about making you leave like that, I just didn’t want to say something I know I would regret.”

“Noel, you have nothing to apologize for. I guess I just needed to open my eyes and realize that I really don’t want to be without you.”

I sigh, unlocking to door to my house and seeing the huge mess me and KB left last night.

“I think we both needed to. I just can’t wait for you to come stay with me again. I found a movie I really think you’d like.”

We talked on the phone for almost two hours before Noah had to get ready for sound check. I got a quick shower and threw on the first oversized shirt I could find, which just so happened to be a shirt Noah left at my house forever ago. Scrolling mindlessly through TikTok, I ended up falling asleep, phone still in hand. Today was a good day.

previous chapter

TAG LIST:

@jilliemiw86 @whenthesummerdies @ebechnasheim @blackveilomens @melcchs @cookiesupplier

psa: the pics are just generally what i picture them to look like, not exactly so picture them how you want

psa part 2: slay

[blondbadbitchp]

Midnight call

Timothée Chalamet x you

Idea: late night sex with your on-off fling

Warnings: smut, on-off relationship, bad language, my english is not the best (i’m sorry), not proof read

Note: guess who's a horny and delusional girl? yeah it's me. Please feel free to leave a comment or feedback. I am not the best writer! Hope some people enjoy and like this!

Forever inspiration for writing fanfiction is @meetmyothersouls

<3 <3 <3

“is it too late to call?” you asked.

“Is it too late to call?” he mimicked your voice sarcastically in an extra high pitched voice. “you wanna kidding me right, y/n?”

You didn’t need to see his face to notice he was angry, his voice was already dark enough to tell. He tried to call you every day for the last 5 days.

You tried to apologize but his mood was already getting on your nerves and got you annoyed. “Listen i’m sorry timmy-

“fuck dont call me that, little bitch”

Calling him was a mistake. Fuck he was so moody. 

“You ghosted me for like the whole week. And you think it’s all fine when you just call out of nowhere?” he pouted.

“okay forget it, i will never call again!" You tried to shut him down, before getting more and more annoyed.

“don't you dare hang up on me now!”

Timothees and your relationship was complicated. You first met him 6 months ago. You could feel the fire since minute one. This fire that always light up when he was near you. Since the first time he touched your lips with his, there was no going back. During the first 2 months you tried to be in a relationship with each other but realized very quickly that this kinda commitment was too much. Both of you were quite busy and a real loving relationship would take too much time and effort. Now you saw each other and fucked from time to time. 

Next thing you heard was your doorbell ringing. You winced as the loud sound echoed through your empty apartment. It was late at night and the street lights were already off. The thought of someone standing in front of your door at this time scared you a little.

“wait a fucking second tim, i need to check the front door” you cut him off.

you walked carefully over to the front door and opened it just a tiny little bit, if you felt scared you could slam your door shut easily. 

Your eyes catched something familiar. Or more precisely someone familiar. There he stands, right in front of your door. In the middle of the night. Your on-off fling Timothée.

You opened the door completely as quick as you could, now staring into his eyes - hated to admit the most beautiful eyes you’ve ever seen. “what the- what are you doing here?”

His eyes stayed on yours as he stepped into your apartment and walked towards you until your back hit the wall behind you. “now you can hang up the call missy.” Without looking away, you turned off your cell phone. Still confused you tried to apologise again: “i already said it - i am sorry i didn’t call earlier”

Before you could apologize one more time, he captured your lips with his in a heated kiss and pressed you more against the wall. You kissed him back while a little whimper left your mouth. There was absolutely no self control that could have held you back. The passion in the way he kissed you told you something you haven't realized yet- he wasn’t just angry, he was horny. You felt his erection pressing against his pants into your body. He was angry because he was horny for you, only wanting to fuck you. 

Timothée pulled away from you and said against your lips “you know what, i understand you don't have to call me everyday, you don't belong to me anymore but remember baby” he paused “this pussy is still mine, especially tonight.” His hand slipped down, finding your already damp panties. He chuckled “looks like i am not the only one who is desperate, let’s go to your bedroom”

Everything about him made you so fucking weak. You were laing on your bed with Timothée hovering over you. Your panties already laying on the floor in the corner of the room. Your hands grabbed his hair while his were under your tshirt on your tits. He played with your nipples, you couldn't hold back your moans. He knew all of your soft spots. An overwhelming feeling overcame you while he rolled your nipples between his thumbs and index finger. 

“please just fuck me Tim!” was the only thing you said between your moans.

Without an answer, he kicked his trousers down his legs and freed his rock hard dick. He grabbed a condom from your side table. You were speechless, his dick was looking even more big today. You had missed the feeling of him inside you.

“put your hand over your head and spread your legs for me” he kissed you again before whispering in your ear “you're such a slut for calling me so late, but you know what? For me it’s never too late to fuck you good.”

While he said the last words, he pushed his dick slowly into your wet desperate pussy. A loud ‘fuuuck’ was the only thing coming from your mouth. your whole body was sweating, your brain was shut down, only his name and the feeling of his dick in your mind. His moans became louder the more he felt how wet and tight you were.. Your kisses were getting more and more passionate while your tongue explored his lips and mouth. His dick was sliding in and out of you with hard long strokes, reaching your sweet spot everytime. You already felt this overwhelming feeling of your appearing orgasm. “Tim i gonna..ahhh.. gonna cum!”, “Me too baby”

With that you screamed his name while the orgasm washed over you and he shot his load into you with a loud moan. After you two came down, he laid next to you, both of you heavy breathing. He looked into your eyes with a smile on his lips. you cuddled up into his arms and whispered “i will call you in a few days again, promise..and for tonight you can sleep here if you want.” 

[kember-writes]

Monday snippet

Big big thanks to @prongsfish for the tag <3 Here's a few paragraphs from chapter five of Hateful Creatures.

James leaned back in the chair, his head tilted slightly to watch Regulus. “You were mumbling in your sleep," he said. No, no, fuck no, anything but this. “And shaking. Lily told me you’ve been having bad dreams. Is that something… new?”

He made no mention of any incriminating words, and Regulus felt something in his chest loosen slightly. “Yes, ever since I ended up here I’ve been having these terrible dreams where idiots from my childhood won’t leave me alone. Oh, wait.” James’s face turned sour at the statement, but Regulus pushed through. “Lily doesn’t know as much as she likes to think she does. And I’m fine, thank you,” Regulus said, swinging his legs off the bed and standing to prove his point. He barely wobbled. “So you can go now. Please.”

“You know,” said James, also standing, and Regulus realised again how tall he was, “you were actually becoming somewhat bearable these last few days. Like you used to be. But if you’re going to get like this the moment something riles you up, I’ll be happy to lock the door again.”

“Be my guest,” Regulus said with a smile, sweeping his arms towards the door as though to usher James out. “It might keep me safe from your awful friends and their experimental curses.” He sneered as James stormed past him, wrenching the bedroom door open and slamming it shut behind him. After a pause of a few seconds, there was a squelching sound as it sealed.

Regulus kicked it, but it didn’t budge. It vibrated on its hinges as someone on the other side kicked back. He heard stomping in the hallway, footsteps clattering down the stairs, then silence.

Brief background: Regulus is temporarily detained at the Potters' house and they're all being Completely Normal about it. The Situation isn't putting anybody under any sort of Stress. Dumbledore is being Extremely Helpful.

Tags for @wolfpants because I'm always interested to know what you're cooking and @veryinnovative because the workings of your mind both frighten and intrigue me. And an open tag for anyone else who wants to share something :)

[coleskingdom]

Mine Pt 4

This will be a six part story. This chapter has no smut.

The Forbidden Door meeting

I wake up before Jay, my mind refusing to shut off. I lay there in the early morning light watching him sleep. I’m overwhelmed by how much I’m falling in love with him my chest gets tight at the thought that he might get hurt because of me. A tear falls down my face. Jays eyes open “ Hey, what’s wrong?” Still half asleep, “Nothing”I say and try to smile. Now fully awake “We don’t do that remember” He’s rolls on his side facing me. “So I’m going to ask you again, what’s wrong?” I can tell he’s bracing himself. “ I’m worried you’re going to get hurt because of me.” His hand strokes my face moving a strand of hair, “It won’t be because of you, it’s real but we will all be professionals. Besides I’d bet you’d be cute in a nurses outfit.” I laugh and the tension is broken.

Jays phone rings, “Hey Will, she’s fine why? I don’t think she’s looked at her phone in the past two days. No that’s exactly what happened, yeah I haven’t talked to anyone over there yet. I appreciate it man, I’ll repay you the favor. You’re right an excuse to get Finlay out is a good enough reason. I’ll let her know.” he hangs up. “ Apparently you need to look at your phone, you’ve got a good portion of people worried about you.”

I sigh heavily and pick up my phone, and hand it to Jay. “Please, I can’t right now.” He scrolls through my messages and I can tell he’s deleting the ones that he knew I wouldn’t want to read. “Your dad texts like a psycho.” Handing me back the phone.

I start to read the text out loud

The Bang Bang Brats

“Are you our new mom?”

ELP <3

Tell Jay GOD is ready to join Gold.

Ospreay

Whatever you need it’s yours? I had no clue about your dad and Finlay, next time you decide to get married let a guy know okay. I’m sorry love I wasn’t there for you.

ZSJ

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me Finlay really? Why didn’t you say something, I could’ve done something. You really got a thing for those Bullet Club boys, I warned you about them years ago. I have to say of the lot Jay is the best of them. Be happy love, it’ll all be fine, if you need anything let me know.

“I’m glad I read them”I sighed and smiled. I leaned my head over on Jays shoulder, he put his hand in mine brushing my knuckles. “ I’m glad you did to, it seems you have quite the fan club. Love” in the absolute worst British accent I’ve ever heard, his eyes showing his amusement when I turned to look at him. He kissed me softly, resting his forehead on mine. “We better get ready before, I cancel the meetings and we just stay here. “

We got ready and were downstairs when the first knock came. Matt,Nick, Page, Cole, Kenny Tony and Rocky were all there. Followed by a catering team , who asked where to set up . “ Just put it on the island “ Jay said casually winking at me, as he predicted my face turned pink.

I sat beside him at the table. Everyone else gathered with Tony at the head of one end with Kenny at the other. Jays body tensed as he stares down the table at Kenny. I put my hand on his thigh trying to give him support, he could never let being Kenny’s young boy go, mainly because Kenny insisted on reminding him of it at any chance he had.

Tony started “ Good Morning, I trust everyone had a good evening last night. Thank you all for being here. I was told the result of the private vote was to move forward with a forbidden door program. I’ve spoken with President Tannashi and he agrees that it’s time for the Bullet Club Civil War. The only stipulation is that it can be any member of the club that was current or retired prior to Saturdays incident. We will need rosters from each group and we will be preparing the matches out of interest and fairness. However the main event will be David vs Jay. Loser loses his club, the winner has the right to include or exclude the others current members, but only one club will be recognized after the match. “

A low rumbling went around the table as the words sank in.

Tony slides a contract towards me, “ I’m presenting you both with a talent and employment contract. You will see that the terms of talent are through forbidden door but that the employment offer for you to be in talent relations is a five year deal.You’ve worked hard and you deserve this. However, you will need to be on screen with Jay, I will leave that to the two of you to discuss how and what the presentation is going to be. “ My eyes were as big as saucers, I never wanted to be on screen talent. Jay took my hand under the table and gave it a squeeze.

“Thank you, I don’t know what to say other than thank you.” I said.

Kenny spoke next “ Jay, you really couldn’t let Japan go could you. I left the keys in your hands you had it all but you had to come here you had to bring Bullet Club with you. You’ve had to make your mess my mess. Now you’re trying to be the savior of bullet club because it’s all you have. I don’t even understand why I’m here or what I have to do with any of this. I’m part of the Elite and was part of the version of Bullet Club that brought this whole thing to prominence. The fact that this all over some girl who was making shitty choices because she has Daddy issues. “

With that Jay slid back from the table and yanked Kenny up by his collar. “Say what you want about me, but you keep her out of your mouth. You don’t even realize that your best days are behind you, Ospreay and I both made sure of that, and if I need to I’ll finish it myself. If you want to align with Finlay go ahead, I’ll take on the both of ya. As for now though get the fuck out of my house.”

Matt and Nick got in between both of them. Jay let Kenny go, but dared him to say anything further. “Matt Nick let’s go” Kenny said. “Not this time Kenny. You’ve gone too far.”Matt said regretfully . Kenny looked around the table for support , none of the other men will meet his eyes. I however refused to look away from him my jaw set firm, and hard. Kenny stormed out the front door slamming it behind him.

“He’ll calm down, he’s out injured anyway. He insisted on being here because he’s an EVP. I’m sorry I didn’t expect him to disrespect your home. The fact that you’re prioritizing someone you care about, is a regret he still has and has never gotten over“ Matt said .

“Who have you heard from?” Tony asked changing the subject .

“As for Japan, you really don’t have much support Jay. The War Dogs, Kenta, Owens , House of Torture are all together. GOD said they texted you to let you know that they will be aligning with Gold. You have a lot of support from United Empire and TMDK that have offered to do matches on the road to forbidden door in hopes that they can keep them fatigued. That’s about all you’ve got. “ Rocky said

“ So I need what 10 -12 guys? “ Jay said “Closer to 15 guys I’m afraid.” Rocky said.

“Matt, Have you heard from AJ , Deviit or Cody?”

“ they’re all sitting this out, which numbers wise works better for us. “ Matt confirmed.

“ What about Austin and Bey?” I asked trying to do the math in my head.

Jay picked up his phone “ Hey Chris, I need to know where you are on this whole thing. We’d love to have y’all. Thanks man talk soon.” They’re in . I think we have our numbers..”

“I want Gabe “ Page said abruptly, “he’s been running his mouth too fucking long about me. It needs to be a death match.”

“We want Connor’s and Maloney they keep shitting on our legacy. I’m sick of it. “ Nick added

“ I think Japan would be agreeable to this.” Tony said and Rocky nodding his head.

“ Cole do you have anyone you’d like to take out personally? “ Jay asked

“Coughlin, and if I’ve got to team with page to get to him then that’s what we need to do death match and all. “ Cole not loving the idea of a death match but wanting Coughlin more.

“What about you sweetheart, what do you want out of this?” Jay asked

“ I just want to y’all to come out safe.” I said.

“That’s no fun sweetheart, I mean who do you want to slap, or kick in the balls, something that you get to do on the talent side. “

“My father, and Finlay.” Laughing at the idea.

“Tony you’ve created a monster, I’m afraid . She’s been thinking about this a while. Britt can help her get ring ready..” Cole offered

“I think that’s it for a while guys I’ll get the paperwork to you for signature and review.” Which was the dismissal from Tony.

Everyone stayed a little longer. They wanted to talk about my on screen presentation. “ I never thought I’d be on screen, I was content in the background.” I said. “ Well you’ve been given two contracts from Tony so you’re in. Now it’s about your presentation, you’ll need one move that you can execute well. .” Matt said. “ What’s your favorite move of all time. “ Jay asked“ The Superkick” the other four men answered in unison. Jay looked at me “Seriously?” I shrugged my shoulders "I was an hbk fan what can I say. “

“She actually has a fairly decent one, we’ve worked with her on it before. She wanted Shawn’s so I worked on it with her it’s been a while though.” Cole shrugged “ What style is she going for asked Page, the bullet club bunnies aren’t going to work….” I’m not doing that hell no.” I cut him off abruptly. “ I think I just want a slightly sexy black and gold look. Jeans, heels a tank or bustier. “ I was actually feeling pretty pleased with the idea.

“ You’ll wear my jacket though, we can modify one, you can have either the switchblade or bullet club logo. If you go with the logo I’d like you to wear a golden switch blade necklace. Just on camera.” Jay said. "Now wait a minute, you don’t need for it to look like you own her.” Page said “ I’m okay with it, it’s pretty rock n roll actually. I’d rather look rock n roll than a ring rat, besides bullet club has always been cool. And it’s something we are all doing together. I’m going to go with the gold logo and the necklace. When I’m with everyone and if it’s just Jay and I I’ll have the switchblade logo. I need not to be damsel in distress.” The guys seem to be in agreement and they started working on story lines. I needed a break, so I excused myself.

I found myself a little place on the back porch in a rocking chair that overlooked the property. “ How are you doing Darlin?” Page asked handing me a glass of whiskey

“It’s been a lot, but I’m happy.” I smiled

“So you and Jay huh? “ he questioned

“He and I spent a lot of time together when y’all left for AEW. It was he and I and the new bullet club for a while. we hung out a ton he and I shared an apartment as room mates. It feels right, and honestly I was a little surprised how comfortable this all is. He gets me Adam, when I ran out of the wedding and I was in the car and started having a panic attack, he got me through it like it was the most normal thing in the world. He didn’t bring it up or make me feel shitty about it. I think I’m in love with him.”

Jay was stepping out on the porch, with a blanket.

“I’m gonna head back in, I just wanted to check on you.” as page started to excuse himself. “ Hey Adam, don’t feel like you’ve got to go on my account. I need everyone to understand nothings changed she still needs you guys. Honestly I was bringing her a blanket the wind from the north kicks up and it can get cool quick. “ Jay handed me a blanket and a kiss on the top of the head and disappeared back inside.

“Who the fuck was that guy and what did you do with Jay ?” I just laughed , page took a seat on the wooden steps and looked out. The easy quiet. It’s always been easy to be quiet with him. He broke the silence as the sun started going down, “I’m happy for you. Kenny was out of line and you deserve what all the rest of us have a safe place that feels like home. Matt said he took care of you on the contracts, none of us want you to be obligated to be in a position that you need anyone but yourself.”“Thanks Adam”, he bent down as hugged me.

I followed him back inside realizing he was the last one leaving. As I walked him out Jay came out of the kitchen. “Everything okay? “ he said . “ Yeah, it’s what we do, we sit in silence, sometimes it’s a big conversation, sometimes it’s nothing.Its nice knowing someone is there.” I walked towards him his arms opened and pulled me in.

“So you’re in love me” he said softly, “ I am” I answered back.

I pull back and I’m trying to read his face, “”Are you okay ? I didn’t mean for you to hear that, I’m not trying to…”

“ Sweetheart , that was the best part of my day, I need you to know that. In answer to your question no I’m not okay, Kenny got under my skin again. He’s just a smug son of a bitch. “

I took his hand and led him to the couch I sat down, “ Sit down in front of me. I’m going to take care of you but go ahead and keep talking.” He sat down between my legs and faced the fire in the hearth. I began running my fingers through his hair massaging his scalp. “ He’s always been a dick, he was so mad when I wouldn’t join his club , he couldn’t stand that I wouldn’t bow to the great Kenny Omega. That I could do more outside of his shadow that I didn’t need his approval, I had Okadas. That’s when my game began to take what was his. Today when he started in on you that was it. “ I pull his hair a little bit just enough to break his tension, “That feels good. it’s been along time since someone took care of me. Sure there were women but they all wanted the character, not me. I got to the point I looked forward to the dinners you’d make in that tiny apartment, the way you’d stream terrible television, the way you’d watch AEW studying it, but also buying completely in. “ I move my hand to the back of his neck rubbing the knots out of his neck, he groaned, then continued “ I’ve been in love with you for years. Your selfless nature, your kind heart, the way you’d support and comfort all of us. I loved the way you put the jacket on me before I went out to the ring, the way you’d take care of me when I was injured . You’d listen to me rant, scream and breakdown.” He reached back and took my hands off his neck and turned around kneeling in front of me. “Marry Me, I mean will you marry me?”

I gasped at his words, my brain processing everything he said tears came down my face, “ Yes Jay I will.”

[enjoythesilentworld]

Wille's Month - Future

numero 11 here we go. @youngroyals-events <3

Wilhelm writes a letter to himself.

read below the cut or on ao3. (T, swearing, grief)

Hi.

It’s me, Future Wille. Or, I guess, it’s you, but in the future. Like, you are Past Wille and I, writing this, am Future Wille. Although, technically I can’t actually send this to you and the whole naming thing would make more sense if I was Past Wille writing to Future Wille. Whatever, you get it. I’m stalling. 

A few years ago, I (Past Wille but less Past than you are, you are pre-Hillerska Wille) wrote a letter that was meant for Future Wille, but I figure it got lost in the shuffle when the school was shut down (spoiler!). My therapist suggested that I write a new one, but to the past, and I thought, hey what a fun way to relive the most tumultuous and traumatic time of my life? Now I can see Simon watching me because he can probably tell I’m still stalling. How does he always know? (Just wait until I tell you about Simon.) 

Listen, the next few months are going to bring some of the best and worst times of your life. You’ll feel the greatest pain and loss you’ve ever felt, but also experience some of the most beautiful moments of love. 

You will lose your brother. It will hurt. Bad. You think those panic attacks you’ve had were tough? Just wait! You will feel like you’re no longer human. You’ll feel like no one fucking gets it. You’ll feel like you’ve forgotten how to speak, how to function, because how the fuck can he just be gone? You’ll think, what do you mean I just have to continue living without him? You’ll officially become Crown Prince and you’ll hate things even more. You’ll self-destruct a little bit. You’ll beg your parents to fucking see you. You’ll try to remember they’re grieving, too. You’ll continue on with your life, you’ll have to. The grief will get easier to carry and realizing that will almost hurt worse than anything else. You’ll learn to live with it, you’ll think of him every day. 

You will lose your brother a second time. I’m not sure I’m even ready to tell you all the things that will bring up. You will work on forgiving him because it helped you come to one big, important decision: You will step down from your right to the throne. 

It will be okay, just trust me. 

During that first year at Hillerska… where do I even start? You’ll be betrayed by someone you were told you could trust. Your parents will basically abandon you, too, and everything will go from periods of being actually pretty good to being absolutely horrible. Just know, this is proof, that you will make it through and be better for it. (maybe things didn’t have to go quite that shit for me to be ‘better for it’ – because holy shit – but isn’t that the way we���re supposed to talk about the past?)

You will learn so many things after leaving Hillerska. You will be happier than you’ve ever been. All of it will feel worth it, in a way. You’ll finish school and go to university like a normal kid. You’ll take a bunch of random classes because you’ve never really had a choice of career, so you’ve never really thought about it. You’ll still not really know what you want to do at 25. But you will be okay. 

I saved the best for last. Simon. 

Simon will appear in your life and he will be everything. He will be the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. He will challenge you, he will test you, he will make you feel things you’d never thought you could feel. You will lose him, three times, all of them your fault, in a way. You will cause a few national scandals (don’t ask). You will hurt him and he will hurt you. You will try to fix things and make it work. You will love him with every cell in your body. He will love you back. 

Listen, Simon will be the best thing that has ever happened to you. He still is the best thing that has ever happened to me. Keep him close. Kiss him as much as you can. Tell him you love him as much as you can. Make him sandwiches and make him laugh and try your very hardest to make him as happy as he makes you. Know that you end up together, in the end. 

I can’t warn you about everything. Just know that you will make it through. Be kinder to yourself. Take a step back, when you can, and let yourself breathe. Lean on Felice (but be there for her, too, she needs you). Forgive Mamma, forgive Pappa, remember they are just humans, too, and they are trying their best. Forgive yourself. 

Okay Simon is looking at me now in a way that means I’m done with this letter. Much more important matters to attend to. Namely, kissing the hell out of my boyfriend. You’ll understand soon. 

I believe in you. You can do this. 

Wille. 

[gretavangroupie]

Burn (Chapter 3)

Word count: 6.6k+

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ as always, language, drinking, smut, fluff.

SAM POV

The door slammed shut behind her so loud, that the windows rattled and you are pretty sure you felt your heart crack from the sheer force. 

How did you manage to fuck this up again?

You find yourself rushing to the door to go after her, but stop yourself as you see her stepping into the Uber. You watch her from the window as she drives away, and with her a piece of something you’ve been chasing after for years. Never quite able to put your finger on it, but now finally found. Gone just as quickly. Throwing the paper cup of coffee into the kitchen sink, you hover over it staring into the stainless, a blurry image of yourself reflecting back through the puddles of brown liquid. 

“My Sammy…”

You run your hands through your hair and turn on the sink, washing away the evidence of your outburst. You look up at the plants on the window sill, and you see a few brown leaves. As you gently pluck them away as you hear the bedroom door open.

“Did you tell her? Is she gone?” Morgan asks.

A pang of resentment washes through your chest as you turn to face her. 

“You heard the door slam Morgan, don't ask questions you already know the answer to. Also, what the hell was that little show you just put on? You have never made such a scene since we agreed to this, and I know if the roles were reversed you would be pissed at me. So what the fuck?” you ask.

She rolls her eyes and turns on her heels, walking over and plopping herself down on the couch, just staring at you with a condescending glare. You join her on the opposite side of the couch.

“Sam, do you think I’m stupid? Do you think that I didn’t know this was going to happen? I knew it was going to happen since the day you told me you saw her on the plane. You aren't very good at keeping your emotions to yourself. That night at the bar? You two were all over each other…you thought I couldn’t see. So when you told me you had a work meeting on a Friday night, I knew it had to be her. Who has a meeting at a bar at 8pm?”

You shoot her an annoyed, questioning look before realizing what she was getting at.

“Yeah, you forgot to turn your location off, Sammy boy…” she says, putting emphasis on her last words. 

“DON’T ” you snap at her, cutting her off as she rolls her eyes again. She knows better.

“I had my suspicions and a key, so why not find out for myself?” she says, tapping her finger on her chin. “Low and behold, I’m right. Again.” she finishes. 

“This whole arrangement was YOUR idea, Morgan. I didn’t break any rules.” you call out to her.

“This arrangement was for random one time hook ups, Sam. Not for a hall pass with your highschool sweetheart.” she replies.

“Oh fuck that, we never laid out specfics.” you know you got her when she cuts her eyes and turns her attention to her phone.

“You didn’t have to be such a bitch to her, you know.” you add.

“Really, Sam? Are you sure about that? Is that why you sent her out of here in that pink sweater? The one you claim is your favorite? The one you never let me wear?” she says snidely.

You look past her to the kitchen, ignoring her insinuation. 

“How exactly do you think you’re going to get that back from her? Not by contacting her, right? Because that would break the rules…” she says, with a sneering tone. 

“You’re being dramatic.” you say, playing it off, knowing that she is exactly dead on the money. 

“No, I’m not. She needed to know her place, and I think she now knows, it’s nowhere near here. It was one time, Sam. That’s the rule. She needed to know.” she says finally.

You twirl the tassel on the throw pillow in your hands, looking over to Rose laying at your feet. She looks up at you with pleading eyes. You smile at her, and stand up.

“I’m taking Rose out, I have some errands to run. You can come with me or go home. Your choice.” and with that you walk into the bathroom, flicking the shower handle on, and stepping inside the steamy glass. Your anger is bubbling in your chest at how Morgan is acting and you question if any of this is even worth it anymore. You already know your feelings for her are nothing like what you felt last night. 

As you massage the soapy suds into your hair, you let your mind wander back to last night. 

Images of her eyes looking up at you, as she unbuckled your belt. Her long eyelashes fluttering as she gripped you in her hand.

Your hand wanders down to your dick, that is now screaming for attention, and you find yourself mimicking the motions of her hand that are replaying in your mind. 

Her perfect pink lips wrapped so delicately over your length, her velvet tongue dragging slowly over you. The way your tip grazed the back of her throat. The groan of pleasure coming from her full mouth. 

Your hand picks up its pace as you continue to stroke yourself more furiously. 

“Fuck me, Sam…” 

Your jaw hangs slack as you can almost imagine the sensation of how tight she was around you, poorly imitated in the grip of your hand now. As your breathing starts to falter, you pull from your most prized memories to get you over that finish line.

“Sammy…Sammy, fuck….”

The way her face looked as she reached her release around you, your name falling from her lips.

With one more pull you are groaning as your cum shoots into your fist as you continue to stroke your pulsing length, releasing every drop, wishing it was into her.

As you struggle to catch your breath you steady yourself on the shower wall and wonder if this will be the only way you'll be able to have her again. In your memories.

You begin to rewash your body, letting the suds wash down your legs and feet. Looking down to your legs, your mind flashes back to her legs being tangled with yours just a few short hours ago. 

Sometime around 4am you woke up from the nagging in your bladder. She was out like a light next to you, and you found yourself just looking for her as you forced your eyes open. When you saw her next to you, you studied every inch of her, memorizing every curve. Every freckle you could make out in the dim light. She looked exactly like you remembered, though older now, like she had been through her share of struggles and triumphs. You wondered what her life has been like since you knew her. You wonder what would have happened if you never left her at Prom that night. How things may have played out between the two of you if you had told her how you felt. If a relationship with her would have eventually started. Would it have made it past high school? College? Would you still be with her now?

You were caught off guard when she mentioned the memory of that day in the car together, because you do remember it. You remember it for one specific reason, though you have buried it into the deepest folds of your brain, you remember. It was the day you realized you had feelings for her. 

You had all spent the entire day swimming at the lake, hanging out together. Her, Lauren, you, and Danny, enjoying the coolness of the water on a hot summer day. Maybe it was your teenage hormones but you left the lake that day with the image of her sun kissed body floating endlessly through your brain. The way her bikini sat on her hips. The delicate blue string tied around the back of her neck in a bow. On the way home the setting sun was shining in on her and Lauren in the back seat they danced and sang to Ke$ha. The sun illuminated the side of her face, a beautiful peachy glow cast onto her skin; The wind from the rolled down windows blowing their hair around and smiles glued to their faces. You turned around to watch them and as her eyes met yours, they lingered for half a second longer than normal. There was something there and that's when you felt it the first time. 

You knew right then you wanted her, but you couldn’t bear the thought of ruining the friendship you shared. The thought of no more days like that scared you into staying quiet. You kept and harbored those feelings for her, wondering if she felt the same, but denying anything between the two of you. 

So when Prom came around and Lauren and Danny decided to go together, you felt it was only right to ask her. No one else had, and the thought of her going alone crushed you. You wanted to go with her, more than anyone, but you were scared. Scared that you might tell her how you felt, and scared that it could ruin your friendship. You didn’t even know if she liked you that way. No one knew you felt that way about her, and you didn’t want them to. Not even Danny. But you couldn’t stand the thought of her being alone at Prom, so you asked her and she accepted.

As the night came, the more you danced with her and talked with her the deeper those feelings for her began to root. When Danny pulled you aside in the bathroom and asked you what was going on between you two, you lied. You told him you felt sorry for her and that you didn't want her to go alone. But he didn't believe you. You were so sure he could see right through you. So you did the only thing you could think of that would drive the point home at 18 years old. You left her there and you took someone else home that night. Someone you couldn’t even remember the name of today. 

But she remembered, right there in seat 14B. So when she told you on the plane that she had feelings for you back then, you were shocked. You thought at the time, maybe she might have but you never really knew for sure because you never talked to her after that night. You had effectively destroyed the friendship you tried to protect. 

She didn't talk to you either. You didn't know you broke her heart. You didn’t know that she liked you that way, until Lauren told Danny and Danny told you. But by then it was too late. The band was finally taking off, you were graduating soon, and things in your life were finally starting to fall into place. But she was still there. Rooted into every fiber of your heart. Ever since that day at the lake. Ever since that one glance in the car. Over time it felt as if those roots disappeared one by one. That is, until you stepped into seat 14A and made conversation with an all too familiar stranger, whose smile lit you on fire the same way it did all those years ago.

So last night as you looked at her, laying in your bed, in your favorite t-shirt, you thought back on how stupid you were then. How you wished you had just told her how you felt. How you let her believe that she wasn’t the person you wanted to take home on Prom night. Or any night for that matter. 

She was still there, still rooted into your heart, just gone dormant for all these years. You kicked yourself, because now you were with someone else. Someone who had allowed the opportunity of that moment with her. But someone who could never hold a candle to how you felt about the girl laying next to you. The one you’ve thought about since you were an eighteen year old nobody, playing your bass in your parents garage. The only girl you’d ever let call you Sammy. You have always been hers, whether she knew it or not. 

As she rolled over closer to you, she wrapped her arm around your chest. You smoothed the hair away from her face and suddenly found that your bladder didn’t seem so important after all. You wanted to tell her how you felt, and you would in the morning. But the morning came quickly, and bearing different ideas.

You shake your head to clear the thoughts, turning off the shower and stepping out. You aren’t sure how long you were lost in that trance but it had to be a while. You could hear Rose scratching at the bathroom door. Drying yourself off you thought about how you were unprepared to face the reality of your situation. The reality being that you let her slip through your fingers again, and you didn’t know if you could bring her back. The other part of the problem being the 5 foot 4 brunette sitting on your living room couch.

You walk into your bedroom and get dressed, Rose walking into the room to meet you. 

“I know, me too.” you say as she throws herself onto the floor with a huff. “Let's go, we’re gonna go run some errands.” 

You pull your phone out of your pocket and stare at her contact for a minute, trying to convince yourself not to text her, but ultimately you do.

You: Can we please talk?

You slide the phone back into your pocket before walking down the hallway, to find Morgan still sitting on the couch.

“Are you staying or going?” you ask her.

“I’ll come with you.” she replies.

“Alright, well let’s go.” you say, attaching Rose’s leash to her harness and stepping towards the door.

You spend most of the afternoon running to various shops and stores picking up items you are running low on, grabbing coffee and enjoying the Farmers Market. You have a nagging feeling in the back of your head that has had you checking your phone for a reply multiple times today, but every time you’re met with nothing. As you pull into the last store, you let Morgan and Rose hang out in the car.

“I’m just going to run inside and grab what I need real quick. Do you need anything?” you ask.

She shakes her head no and you step into the building. You pull your phone from your pocket and see that the message has been read for over 3 hours now, and still no response. You have lost your self control and find yourself hitting the little green phone button next to her name.

Placing the phone to your ear you hear the call ring out, one, two, three times before you get her voicemail.

Fuck!

You: Please call me, I really want to explain. I promise it will make sense if you just let me explain.

Read.

Knowing that she is actively ignoring you almost makes it worse. You grab the bottle of Advil  you came in for, and head to the register to checkout. As you get back into the car you sigh and pull away from the parking lot.

“What’s wrong, you’ve been in a mood all day.” Morgan asks.

“Nothing is wrong, just have a headache.” You say holding up the bottle of Advil.

Lie. Strike Two. 

“Good, I thought you were still hung up on that girl.” she says, reassuring herself.

If you only knew…

She reaches out to grab your hand and laces her fingers with yours. It feels so wrong. It feels alien. You pull into the parking lot of a restaurant to pick up your to-go order and run in again with your wallet, leaving Morgan and Rose in the car to wait.

As you approach the counter, they tell you it’s going to be another few minutes so you sit on the bench and wait. You instinctively reach for your phone, but realize you must have left it in the car. 

MORGAN POV

Oops, looks like he left his phone... 

You pick it up out of the seat and go to put it in the console, but curiosity gets the best of you. You bite your lip and slide your thumb up the screen opening up the device. 

Looking up to make sure he isn’t walking out, you check his calls. You have a sneaking suspicion he is still in contact with that girl. 

Yep. There she is…

What the hell… why does he even care about her… what was so great about her… whatever.

You close out of the phone log and switch to his texts, seeing Jake, Daniel, and there she is again. You click on her name and see that he has just texted her 15 minutes ago, and multiple times before that, for weeks.

Whatever.

To be honest, you kind of expected this. You know he has been in a pissy mood all day but he will never admit why. That's why you wanted to come with him today, to see if he would crack. 

Honestly, your relationship with Sam has lasted longer than you expected. When you started to get bored you suggested an open relationship and he went for it. You told him that you wanted him to be able to enjoy his tour when in reality you had been seeing others on the side for a while. You were surprised when he agreed without argument, but didn’t question it. It gave you both the freedom you wanted. You do care about him as a person and boyfriend but something was missing from the relationship and maybe it always has been.

When it all started that night at the bar you knew exactly who he was. He was lonely and looking for someone, and you were looking for your ticket to the career you always wanted.  You had hoped that things would progress into a relationship and they did. You knew dating someone like him could help you get where you wanted to be, and like magic you landed your job with Lava. You knew he pulled some strings for you, so you stuck around. You kept things casual with him, while wearing the girlfriend badge. He made your life easy, granting you access to things you wouldn’t be able to attain without him. But as you spent more time with him getting to know him you did begin to care about him and enjoy his company. So seeing him want someone else hurts but you always knew this wasn’t forever.

When you saw the two of them at the bar that night, you could see that fire in his eyes that he once had with you. You knew this would happen. That he was drawn to her. You said nothing, waiting to see if your hunch was right. When he said he had a meeting last night, you knew. It had to be her. 

Locking the phone and tucking it between your legs, you sat and waited. Ready to press him further to see if he would snap. You want him to admit it. 

You sit back in the seat and wait. 

SAM POV

As you slide into the driver's seat you check the console for your phone but you don't see it. You open the center console and it's not there either. You lift up wondering if it fell out of your pocket but it's not there.

“What the hell?” you mutter looking all around. 

“Looking for this?” Morgan asks, holding it up in her hand, with a sneering tone.

You grab it out of her hands and shove it into your pocket.

“So this little love affair has been going on for weeks, huh? Like since the day you saw her on that plane?” she asks condescendingly. 

“What?” you ask.

“You have been texting her for weeks… You texted her 20 minutes ago.” she says.

“You went through my phone?” you say.

She shrugs dismissively, “What exactly are you going to explain, Sam? What wasn’t clear this morning?”

“You have got to be kidding me! Why would you do that!? This is a complete invasion of my privacy! You had no reason to believe that I was doing anything against our rules, and yet you decided to break my trust and go through my texts? This is low, even for you Morgan.”  you yell, accelerating the car faster than you should.

“But you did break the rules Sam!” she yells back. “That was it. That was the last time. Nod if you agree.”

You clench your jaw and nod, not wanting to even look at her. You hate that she is right. You hate that you are caught. But honestly, you don't even really care anymore.

Now she knows. 

The rest of the night is uneventful and you end up letting Morgan spend the night so as to not raise any further suspicion. You do feel bad that you broke the rules, but it just felt like something worth breaking the rules over, and if presented with the opportunity, you would probably do it again. Rules be damned. Morgan be damned. 

By the morning she is gone to get ready for work and you awake alone in your bed. You stumble out of bed and get dressed, seeing that t-shirt laying on the floor by the window. You pick it up and throw it into your laundry basket, prompting you to reach for your phone, just to check and see if she had by some miracle replied. Nothing. 

I’ll be damned if I let her get away again without so much as an explanation.

You hit the phone button and let the dial tone ring out, before getting her voicemail again, so you send her another text.

You: Can I please talk to you? I need to explain and then I will leave you alone if that's what you want.  

Error: Message could not be delivered.

What?

She blocked me.

You slam your phone down onto the bed and storm off into the kitchen. You let Rose outside and slam that door too. You slam the cabinet shut, the coffee pot closed and the mug down onto the island. You are pissed. You have ruined your last shot. The shot you never thought you’d get to take, again. 

As you wait for your coffee to brew you stand and think. 

How can I make this right? How can I get her back?

But then, it comes to you.

HER POV

Your phone vibrates across your coffee table, dancing along as you stare at it. You know who it is, and you know what he wants. But what you want is to respect the woman he’s in a relationship with and the rules they have set with each other. You know what happened with Sam was not just a casual hookup. You know that, or else he wouldn’t be begging for you to talk to him. He would forget about you, just like the rest who likely came before you. Shoving your feelings aside, you ignore the call.

The phone stops vibrating and you pick it up, just as it vibrates again. 

Sammy K: Can I please talk to you? I need to explain and then I will leave you alone if that's what you want. 

That’s when you decide to block his number. No matter how bad it hurts. You know that if you answer him and let him talk to you and explain, that you will fall right back into his arms. You will be the other woman. You will be responsible for hurting someone else. You deserve more than to be someone's secret. 

You scroll to his contact and hit block, wishing it would also block the feelings radiating inside your chest. But it doesn’t. Sadly there is no button for that. 

The next several days are filled with work, cheap bottles of wine and romantic comedies. You have tried to push the thoughts of him out of your head, but you can’t. Your mind keeps racing back to that tender moment you shared just a week ago. When he told you, how even after all these years, you are the only one who can call him Sammy. How you make him feel normal in the hustle and bustle of his busy life. That feels too real for you. It feels too, right. You want that. But not in these circumstances.  

Polishing off the last of the Merlot, you slide the glass onto the coffee table, as your phone buzzes. Looking down at the screen you see a familiar name.

Jake?

Jakey K: Free for lunch tomorrow? Would love to catch up.

What in the world? Why is Jake texting you to have lunch…

You: Are you sure you picked the right contact? Lol…

Jakey K: Yeah, if you don’t want to, that’s okay too.

You: No, I do. I have my lunch hour from 12-1.

Jakey K: Tomorrow at 12:15 at Bone’s?

You: Sure, okay. See you then!

Well this is odd. I mean, you did always hang out all together… I guess it’s not so strange, and he did say ‘don't be a stranger’ that day at the airport.

As you fall asleep tonight, you are happy that you have something to look forward to tomorrow. It will be nice to spend your lunch hour outside your office. Thinking about what to wear, you drift off to sleep.

.

.

The clock is ticking closer and closer to 12:00. It’s a 5 minute drive from your office to the restaurant Jake picked, and you are actually really excited to see him. You decided on a dress today, and you are feeling happy and confident with your appearance. You busy yourself for another few minutes before you are collecting your things and walking out the door. As you get into your car you reapply your lipstick and set off to the restaurant. 

You park your car and get out, and as you open the front door you are greeted by the hostess and a familiar looking face in a black hat. 

“Hi, Jake.” You say with a smile.

“Hello, there.” he says with a soft smile. He looks to the hostess and motions for two and she escorts you to a table. You both sit down and settle yourselves as he passes you the drink menu.

Maybe one drink would be ok… it will probably wear off before you have to go back…

“What do you think, does anything look appealing?” he asks.

You continue to read the menu, biting your lip as you decide. “Yeah I think I can probably have one, if I drink it fast.” you both laugh. 

The waitress comes and takes your drink order and you give her the menus. 

“So how have you been, just wanted to catch up. Like to talk to old friends.” he says rubbing his thumb over his chin.

“Yeah, it’s really nice of you to reach out! I have been great. I have a great job, and I love Nashville. There is always something to do or a show to see.” you smile. “How have you been? What’s going on in your life?” you ask. 

“Ahhh, you know just traveling, touring, living my life. My girlfriend just moved in with me, things are getting more settled down, you know?” he asks.

You smile, remembering the 19 year old guy playing his guitar far too loudly in the garage and how far he has come. He always said he would be famous, and sure enough.

“That’s amazing, I am so happy for you Jake.” you smile. “I would love to meet her if you guys ever decide to go out one night.” 

“Oh she would love that, she loves meeting new people.” he says, but is interrupted by the waitress asking for our food order. 

Once you place your order, you continue to chat casually sipping at your margarita, and enjoying the conversation. 

Jake pulls his phone out of his pocket, “I’m sorry, excuse me.” he says standing up and walking away. 

You swirl your straw around in your glass, the pale green liquid growing clearer as the ice melts. Your tongue darts out to lick the salt on the rim as you take another sip through the tiny black straw. Your eyes flick up and out of the corner of your eye you see Jake’s hat near the front door. 

What is he doing?

Who is he talking to?

Leaning over to peer out of the booth your eyes find him again, but this time you can see who he is talking to you and you feel your face heating and turning red. 

Just as you are about to collect your things and storm out, your waitress arrives with your food.

“Here you are, your steak salad. Can I get you anything else? Another drink maybe?” she asks.

You contemplate just leaving all together, but you know this is an expensive lunch, and it looks so good. You decide that if you are about to sit here and suffer through this set up, you are going to need another drink.

“Sure, I will do one more Margarita, thank you.” you say politely.

Throwing back the rest of your watered down margarita, you see Sam approaching the table with Jake in tow.

Sam slides into the booth with sorrowful eyes, and you immediately look away, fully intending on ignoring him as you eat your lunch. 

“So sorry to do this, but I have to run. Luckily, Sam can keep you company.” Jake says with a smirk and a pat on the shoulder, and with that he is a blurry shadow walking away.

That asshole. This was the plan the whole time.

You cut your eyes back to Sam who is still sitting there, staring at you, waiting for you to say something. Instead you pick up your fork and knife and begin to eat. The waitress drops off your drink and you tell her thank you and smile at her, and do every single thing that you can to make sure the message is very clear that you are ignoring him. After a few more minutes he finally cracks. 

“Can you please just say something!” he begs.

You look up at him slowly and dramatically. “Yeah, I can. Where should I start? Should I start with you failing to mention that what happened between us was only going to be a one time thing? Or should I start with you calling and texting me incessantly over the past week to the point where I had to block your number? Or this little setup you planned? Or the fact that you're even seeing me right now is breaking your little rules?”

He throws his head back into the seat. “You didn’t give me a chance to explain. I tried to call you, I tried to text you. You blocked me, and you’re entitled to that, but you have to hear my side of things. Please. This was the only way.” he says pleading.

“The only way was to drag your poor brother into this? Did you tell him? Did you tell him what happened?” you ask.

“Yeah, he knows. It’s the only way I could get him to agree to it.” he says defeatedly.

“Oh my god, Sam… this is…beyond…” you say, shocked, shaking your head.

“Can I please explain? After I tell you everything, if you want me to leave and never speak to you again, I will do it. I’ll respect that, but you have to know my side of things.” he says.

You pick at your salad a little bit, before you look up to him. “Okay, go ahead.” you say begrudgingly. 

“I am so sorry that I didn’t tell you the details of mine and Morgan’s relationship. I should have been completely up front with you about it. The rules are that one night stands are allowed, but no contact after, and it can never happen again. Right? You know that part. The part that I didn’t tell you is that about five minutes after meeting you at the bar that night, I threw all the rules out the window. I knew this would never just be one time for me. It couldn’t.” he says nervously.

“You asked me that night if I remembered that day in the car… I do remember. You know why I remember it? Because that day we all went to the lake… I realized that I liked you. Not like a friend, either. I never stopped liking you. When I asked you to Prom? I had no question in my mind that I wanted to take you. You were my first choice. But I was so scared of ruining the friendship we all had. I couldn’t stand the idea of something happening and us losing everything. So I kept it to myself and when Danny asked me about it, I lied to him. I was nervous that he could tell so I left with that random girl that night. I had no idea that you liked me back. I was shattered for weeks when I found out that you cried the entire way home. Danny gave me shit for weeks. I gave myself shit.” he says, with hurting eyes.

“We stopped talking and I realized I ruined everything. It was too late, I blew it. I would search you every now and then, see how you were doing. But I knew I lost my chance. Until I saw you on the plane that day. I knew right that second that I had to know you again. I had to know this version of you. Danny knew. Even Jake… Josh. But there was Morgan. She threw a wrench into everything.” He says with a sigh, running his hands through his hair. 

“Things with her have been rocky at best, I feel like this arrangement we made was a means to an end. Then you came along. She’s been reading my texts and telling me that I need to stop talking to you, and the only thing I feel for her at this point is resentment. That’s part of the reason I had to set this up through Jake. I didn’t want her to show up here. I know that all of this doesn’t change anything that happened and I will never be able to tell you how sorry I am. You deserve better than what I gave you but you had to know. It was never one time for me. It never has been. It never will be.” He says, reaching his hand out to yours. 

Your heart aches at his confession. 

Has he really felt like this all this time?

You want to give in, you want to tell him you feel the same, and you always have. You want to run back into his arms. But you can’t. You can’t let him off this easily.

“So you mean to tell me, that instead of just telling me how you felt back then, you lied and kept it secret and ended up hurting me anyways? Ruining the friendship that you were trying to protect? How did that workout for us, Sam? How would it be any different now? You’re doing the exact same thing now! How am I supposed to trust you? Have you learned anything since then?!” you ask.

“I know, it's… it’s a mess and it's all my fault. I was so stupid then, I guess I’m still stupid, now. But I haven’t been able to get you out of my head. All day everyday, you’re there. Just like back then. I know this is a lot, and I know you probably don’t feel the same way anymore. But you just had to know. It’s always been you.” he finishes.

Your eyes lock with his, and you can feel how badly he wants you to understand. To forgive him. To be with him. 

“Sam…I think you know how I feel about you. If you’re serious, you will go and figure things out with Morgan. Figure out what you really want.” you say pulling your phone from your purse.

You scroll to his contact and unblock his number. “There, you aren’t blocked anymore. Figure out what you want. When you’re ready, you can call me and let me know what you’ve decided. Either way. Until then…” you trail off.

Please make the right choice Sammy...

SAM POV

As she flashes you the screen of her phone, your heart leaps. You see that you are still Sammy in her phone. After all these years, you're still Sammy.

You reach your hand out for hers, and she lets you grab it. 

Maybe there is hope after all…

You want this with her. You want everything with her. 

You breathe a deep sigh of relief, “Thank you...I swear I’m not going to fuck this up again.” 

She squeezes your hand, “I really hope so Sam.” 

You nod your head in agreement. The waitress comes with the check and you quickly slide her your card.

“Sam!” she scoffs.

“It is the least I could do. I mean, I did set you up anyways.” you smirk.

“Yeah, don’t think you’re off the hook for that either.” she says with a grin.

You laugh, as she smiles at you. “I’m going to make this right. I promise.” you say in a more serious tone.

She nods and grabs her purse, “I have to get back to work. I am already late.” she says.

“Oh, go. I’m sorry I kept you.” you say.

“I’m not.” she says with a soft smile. She stands and throws her purse over her shoulder, giving you a soft kiss on the cheek and disappearing down the aisle.

Your body feels like it is on fire after her small display of affection. The waitress returns with your card and you quickly sign your name and head out to your car. 

Once you’re inside you turn off do not disturb and see that you have a whole slew of messages and phone calls.

Jake: How did it go? 

Morgan: Why are you on DND, call me.

Morgan: Hello?

Missed Call: Morgan

Fuck...

You text Jake back and tell him that it has gone as good as you’d hoped and thanking him for his help.

But now you have to call Morgan. You select her contact and hit the phone icon, listening to it ring. 

“Hello?” she answers.

“Hey.” you say.

“What’s going on? I saw you put ‘do not disturb’ on. You never turn that on.” she asks.

“I was just having a meeting. What are you doing?” you ask.

“Nothing, I just got home. Why, what’s up?” she asks.

“Can I come over?” you say.

“Aww, yeah. You can, how long until you’ll be here?” she asks.

“Maybe 10 minutes?” you reply.

“Okay, I will see you soon.” she says.

“Sounds good.” you say hanging up, swallowing heavily.

A few minutes later as you pull into her driveway you put your car in park and get out, making your way to her door.

She opens the door just before you knock, and wraps her arms around your neck. As you wrap your arms around her you sigh, returning the hug that feels so foreign to you now.

You care for her, but now you are torn on what is right and wrong. You have feelings for both girls. You have so much history with both of them. They both know you, just in different stages of life. You want them both.

Stepping into her house you push the hair from your face and shut the door behind you. 

Now, being forced to make a decision between the two, you wonder if you really have to.

Or if you will.

.

.

.

.

.

[narcolini]

On Your Mind

javi x gn!reader, sort of hurt sort of comfort, 866 words for day 3 of narcoctober: song prompt, there is something on your mind - big jay mcneely a/n: i can't believe this is my first time writing javi and i cant believe its something like this and not a 30k friends to lovers kjfhg tagging: @narcosfandomdiscord @garbinge @drabbles-mc @hausofmamadas @cositapreciosa

He’s home before you are, though you never gave him a key. The lady downstairs is kind and stupid enough to let anyone into the foyer, as long as they ask politely, and you’re kind and stupid enough to have told him exactly how the lock jimmies open, if you get it just right. So here he is now, un-expectantly expectant of you. 

‘I should look into getting an alarm system,’ you say, shutting the door behind, and pouring the day from your shoulders to your feet. 

‘Maybe.’

‘Are you here for long?

He shrugs. ‘Maybe. I don’t know.’

You pause where you are and look at him. He’s leaning against the table, which stands against the cabinet by the bed, because you’re yet to buy any dining chairs, and he’s yet to find a way to be comfortable here, as often as he comes, which makes you both look like strangers, really. Neither of you have settled. It’s more of an introduction on neutral ground than anything else.

He’s got his arms crossed. Bare forearms, rolled sleeves. He looks from you, to the floor, to the half-drawn curtain over your window. Nobody’s bothered to turn the overhead light on, so he’s orange, and you’re blue. 

‘Bad day?’ you ask.

‘No worse than the rest.’

You try a smile, pull that card from your deck. ‘Something a whiskey might solve?’

‘Look.’ He sighs and draws his gaze back to you. ‘We should talk.’

The lamp on the bedside flickers. He waits until the amber glow is steady again, and then he nods, like you’ve asked something, and his brows pull together like he’s apologising for it. 

‘Can I take my shoes off first?’

‘It won’t—’

‘Please.’

You get another nod, and a raised hand to wave you on, before it’s tucked back under his forearm again. Crossed and waiting. 

The lace of your boot has become knotted, so it takes a pregnant minute for you to get it off, leather fighting the curve of your heel, then it drops to the ground with a thud. 

The second comes off easy and quiet. 

‘You want a drink?’ you ask, sock-footed and able to move again. You cross the room before the offer’s been answered, hand on the fridge before drink has even tilted up into a question. 

‘It won’t take,’ he tries again, ‘I shouldn’t stay.’

‘That’s what you say every time.’

‘This is different.’

You take two beers from the case on the shelf. White light there and gone again. 

‘You’re different?’ you guess.

He lets the quiet have its turn before answering. ‘I’ve been thinking.’

‘Yeah, I noticed last time.’ You could tell he wanted to talk then, too, but he’d been too scared, or too happy, or too greedy, to want to tell you so. ‘You don’t fuck the same when you’re thinking about something.’

There’s a laugh that you reward with one of the beers, handing it to him as you reach his side of the studio. 

‘And you’re just telling me this now?’ he says. 

‘I could hardly tell you then.’

He snorts and you match it, smiling, before dropping onto the side of the bed. From here his cheek is gold, his hair is gold, and the rest of him is grey, muted by the moonlight through what’s left of the window. 

‘Please sit,’ you say, and when he doesn’t move you add, ‘it won’t hurt less from the table.’

‘I was trying to give you space,’ he admits, standing as he does. Arms slack, knees straight. He walks two steps then dips the bed as he goes down beside you, shoulder to shoulder.

You switch the lamp off. No more orange, just blue.

He starts before you’ve even tasted the beer, which sits damp between your palms. 

‘I don’t think,’ he says, ‘we can keep doing-’

‘Wait.’

‘-this.’ His eyebrows trick his eyes into looking soft. Or tired. 'Baby,’ he reasons.

‘You’ll have to give that up,’ you reply. ‘Baby.’

You imagine his palm on your thigh and his thumb running the outer seam. Replace it directly with the sight of his fingers now, threaded together, and balanced in the gap between his knees.

‘In the morning,’ you offer him. ‘Let’s save it for then, okay?’

He exhales and looks away before the last of it can hit your face. ‘It wouldn’t be fair.’

‘To who?’ You’re smiling somehow. ‘I’m the one suggesting it.’

‘We can’t just keep on—’

‘Don’t say it,’ you interrupt again, because you know already. ‘Don’t tell me until the morning, Javi.’

‘How is that any better?’ he asks. ‘For either of us?’

‘How is it any worse?’

You’re both orange, and you’re both blue, and you’ve known the colour of him since the beginning, really. Since you first told him how to get the lock just right. There’s nothing here that you hadn’t seen coming, and nothing left to say, either. 

‘One more night?’ you ask, for a final hopeless time. ‘Don’t tell me now.’

You watch his throat as he swallows the request, his lips as he nods in reply. ‘Alright,’ he says, ‘until the morning.’ 

And then there’s his hand. There’s your thigh. 

______

[negansbackdoorwhore]

can i please get 34 from the prompt list with either jeffrey or negan <3

Warnings: angst, smut

Negan wasn’t one to fold easily under ultimatums. He wants to stay in control especially with his relationships. Seeing you was his favorite thing but he also had other woman on speed dial. He could swoon the pants of any woman with his sexy charm and the fact he was the president of the local biker club. But it wasn’t enough for you and it killed him to have you want him exclusively. He couldn’t have it and let his pride overrule his true emotions.

That was months ago and Negan kept his appearance up for his friends and shit. But going home was empty and felt so lonely. He called numerous girls to satisfy him but it wasn’t the same. The sex was okay but he kept secretly wishing it was you instead. It was way better when it was you and knowing you would stay with him to cuddle and give you the affection he craved. Other women wanted to give the same thing but he wasn’t having it. There were times he would want to pick up his phone and call but he didn’t want himself to fall easily.

That was fine until seeing you in at the farmer’s market with some guy. He saw you at a stand admiring the watermelons and almost approached you after no contact. But then seeing some dude come over next to you made him clench his fists. He wanted to kill that guy but bit back the motion once your eyes made contact with his. Not a word said as he turned around and got on his bike.

He felt was a ball of anger all day and snapping at anyone who wanted to talk to him. He closed himself off from everyone by shutting off his phone and staying in his home. He hit his own wall a couple times before hearing the sound of knocking on his front door. Negan’s first instinct was to ignore it but the knocking kept going on and on. It was making feel crazy and rushed over to throw open his door. He was going to bark out a string of swears until realizing it was you.

“Why are you here?”

“Oh, so I don’t even get a hello? I knew this was a bad idea.” You went to walk away but Negan grabbed your arm in hopes you would stay.

“Wait. I’m sorry, just had a bad day.”

“It wouldn’t be because of earlier today, right?”

Negan sighed as he let his head fall forward with the feeling of his fingers squeezed your arm. You removed his hand and stepped into his home, the memories flowed at the sight. You always spent your free time here when you were seeing each other.

“Look, seeing you today was a lot for me. And with another man made me feel some tough shit like a punch in my gut.”

“You think it was easy on my end? You don’t seem to give a fuck after making your choice. Negan I’m just here to see if you’re okay.”

“I appreciate it and…”

“Stop. You seem fine so now I’m leaving.” Negan bit his lip and watched you step toward the door. He was going to let you go but his gut told him something different. Without thinking he stopped you by pressing himself against the back of your body. You couldn’t see anything but the frame of the door and felt Negan’s touch. Fuck, you missed him.

“I can't keep kissing strangers and pretending that they're you."

He said against the shell of your ear that caused you to shudder. You planned on leaving but now with him so close, you just wanted to pull him even closer. You made the first move by turning around and reach up to kiss his lips. They felt like what you’ve been missing for these last months and he couldn’t deny the craving. His lips hungry and now growing needy for you.

Negan made a fast move to pick you up in his arms and pinned you to the floor. It was sloppy and rushed as he worked off your pants. You were feeling breathless as he kept kissing you with all the want he held for you. Your hands held his shoulders and groaned once the touch of his cock was against your panties.

“Baby. I fucking missed this.” He moaned against your neck and pushed your legs on his waist. You whimpered when he ripped your underwear to push his cock on your velvet opening. His eyee made contact with yours and you felt him go inside you. He gasped at how good you felt and your hands reached to caress his face. Negan leaned to kiss you deeply as he stroked into you. You both wanted to prolong this but the feeling was too good.

After finishing, Negan insisted on you staying for a bit. You would protest but he was all sweet and already bringing you to rest on his couch. He brought you into his arms and a blanket to cover up.

“Sorry about your panties. I couldn’t help myself.” He mumbled against your head before laying a soft kiss on you. You didn’t respond as you were focused on cuddling into his body.

“If you let me. I want to be yours and only yours. I can’t see myself wanting anyone else but you Baby.”

“Okay.” You answer and reach to kiss him while his arms squeezed your body.

[eddievanhammettmunson]

The Right Medicine.

Eddie Munson x Female Reader

Author’s note- hello ghouls and gremlins. I'm back after coming out of somewhat of a writer's block. Been having a lot going on as of late so i'm sorry if you’ve been waiting for any content I’ll get to it soon. 5.5k words

Warnings- 18+++ content. Mature themes. No smut. Mentions of drug use, foul language, and mentions of not wanting to live anymore. Angst.

Summary- after being cut off by your drug dealer and being forced into sobriety the two of you catch up and find maybe the drugs had been the wrong medicine all along.

He always hoped things wouldn’t end up this way. When he met you he never expected to become this attached to you. But here you were in the middle of the night banging on his trailer door.

“OPEN THE DOOR EDDIE!”

He sat on the other side in tears. His heart was absolutely shattering in his chest. You were just supposed to be another customer. But how could he not fall in love with you? But that meant he couldn’t stand by and watch you kill yourself anymore. He couldn’t deal to you anymore. Hell after this he doesn’t think he can deal at all anymore.

“OPEN THE DOOR EDDIE OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR.”

You bang on the door with your fists.

“OPEN THE DOOR EDDIE.”

You begin to cry.

“OPEN THE DOOR. OPEN THE DOOR. OPEN THE DOOR.”

“FUCK YOU EDDIE.”

“FUCK YOU EDDIE.”

“FUCK YOU EDDIE.”

You’re on your knees now at his trailer door. You inhale a shaky breath before you cry out in a last attempt.

“You did this to me Eddie. The least you could do is open the fucking door. I'M BEGGING YOU EDDIE JUST OPEN THE DOOR.”

Eddie feels his heart shatter in his chest. It is his fault. He did this to you. He shouldn’t have been dealing in the first place and he knew that but he needed the money. And now you’re addicted to drugs crying at his door at 3 am for your next fix and he wanted nothing more than to give in just to make you happy. But he doesn’t. He keeps the door shut. He waits until he doesn’t hear your sobs anymore.

He takes a peek out the window and you’re gone. He has a feeling he won’t see you again. That breaks his heart but he hopes he’s doing the right thing. As long as you can’t get your drugs anymore maybe you’ll live a little longer. Even though he knew you took the drugs because you didn’t want to.

***

That night when you left Eddie’s trailer you biked all the way from his trailer directly to the source. Reefa ricks. When you got there he also turned you away. Told you he wasn’t supposed to deal to you anymore and you knew it was because Eddie asked him not to.

You went to Argyle and managed to get some weed but that’s all Argyle ever had so anything stronger was out of the question.

You went home that night empty handed and you hated Eddie for it. You had to go through with drawls and eventually you got the help you needed getting sober. But there was always a part of you that wondered why Eddie had stopped dealing to you.

**

You didn’t see Eddie for 5 months. Well he didn’t see you. You avoided him like the plague around town. Not because you hated him anymore but because you were embarrassed about the last time you’d talked to him. You felt bad about putting him through that and having to see you like that.

If anything you wanted to thank him. He’d saved your life. You knew the path you had been on was a dangerous one. And if Eddie had kept dealing to you, you’d probably be dead.

Today was a day like any other. Going to your new job at the diner that Benny was nice enough to offer you after your stint in rehab. Your shift today wasn’t long but it was tiring nonetheless.

When your shift was over you went to go get into your car and start it but nothing happened. No engine roaring no nothing. Just dead.

“SHIT!” You slam your hands on the steering wheel.

You walked back into the diner and asked to use the phone to call a local tow truck company and have it towed to the mechanics up the road.

The man with the tow truck was nice enough to let you ride with him to the mechanic shop and you thanked him upon arrival.

Getting out of the truck you walk into the mechanic shop and come face to face with the one person you’ve been avoiding for the last 5 months.

He doesn’t see you come in because he’s looking at something on the counter. You take in the sight of him. Greasy and dirty with his hair up in a messy bun. Wearing a pair of overalls with the name Eddie stitched into the lining. You clear your throat to get his attention and he finally looks up from the counter.

Eddie Munson is pretty sure his heart stopped. He hadn’t seen you in 5 months and here you were standing in front of him and you looked just as stunning, maybe even more so, than the last time he saw you. You looked healthy and Eddie could only assume it’s because nobody in town would sell drugs to you. He only hoped you didn’t still hate him.

He opens his mouth to say something but words escape him. He just stands there across the counter looking dumbfounded so you’re the first to speak.

“Uh my uh-my car. Just got brought in.”

He finally regains some sense of self. “Right uh what’s wrong with it.”

“I don’t know Eddie. If I knew that I wouldn’t have brought it here.”

He shakes his head. That was a dumb question. “Well uh yeah haha. Um I meant what was going on with it. Why’d you decide to bring it in?”

“Wouldn’t start. Just absolutely nothing.”

“Ah well I’ll take a look at it and you sit tight alright?”

Eddie turns to leave the room and heads back into the shop where your car is. Leaving you in the waiting area. Leaving you alone with your thoughts.

You couldn’t help but admit he looked good. Even in his greasy overalls and messy bun. In fact that probably only added to how good he looked. Your heart ached a little bit seeing him after this long. You felt bad. Really bad after what you put him through.

Eddie comes back into the shop a while later looking a bit greasier and a little more tired.

“She’s all up and working now!”

He tosses the keys to your car at you and you catch them.

“That’s great Eddie! What was wrong with it?”

“Oh just a dead battery s’all”

“Okay” you begin to pull out your wallet. “How much do I owe you?”

“Nothing. You’re all good to go.”

You freeze and look up at him with furrowed brows. “Batteries cost money, Eddie. I know I owe you something.”

“Seriously. It’s taken care of. Don’t worry about it.” Eddie starts fidgeting with a cloth hanging from one of his overall pockets.

You raise a brow and walk toward the counter and set your wallet on it. You give Eddie a stern look. “Seriously Eddie I’m not taking freebies just tell me how much.”

He sighs. “For you? $30”

You sigh, this time and take out $30 from your wallet. Knowing that batteries cost more than that but also knowing Eddie wasn’t going to budge. He takes the $30 and cashes you out and hands you a receipt. As he hands you the receipt your fingers brush for a moment and it makes you feel a rush of electricity you haven’t felt in a long time. You blush and you hope he doesn’t notice.

You’re about to turn and walk out of the shop and Eddie just knows he can’t let you leave like this. Not again.

“So how are you?”

You stop and turn back to the counter. “I’m good. Really good. How about you?”

“I’m great. Since I got this little gig going for myself.” He uses his finger to point around the shop.

You two take a moment to just look into each other's eyes and you take a deep breath. “I should uh probably get going. Thanks for fixing my cars Ed’s”

Ed’s. He hadn’t heard that nickname in months and the second he heard it his chest tightened a bit. He couldn’t let you leave like this. He had to know he’d see you again.

“Uh yeah anytime. So uh you workin anywhere now?”

“Oh uh yeah I work at benny's diner. I’m surprised I haven’t seen you in there actually.”

“Yeah never really went to benny's cause all the jocks and party people used to hangout there.”

“We aren’t in highschool anymore Eddie.”

“I know but I guess I just never really thought about going there. Might have to now though.”

He flashed you a smile and you couldn’t help but smile back.

“Yeah you should come in sometime. I could always use a friendly face around.”

And with that you turned on your heel and left the shop.

***

After you left the shop you were all Eddie thought about the rest of the night. He paced around his trailer and debated on just caving and calling you and confessing all his feelings and telling you he couldn’t stand not seeing you. But that felt wrong. You were in a good place without him. He couldn’t just hop back into your life like that. Would you even want him to?

As he sat on the couch in defeat he thought about it more and more. He came to a conclusion that he would take a step and go to see you at Benny’s diner tomorrow on his lunch break. He would get some food, maybe try to strike up a conversation and then be on his way that was all.

Sitting on the couch deep in thought, he hadn’t even heard the trailer door swing open. Wayne walked into the trailer and saw his nephew sitting on the couch looking stressed and defeated. “You okay over there?”

Eddie jumped a bit and looked up at his uncle. “Yeah Wayne I’m okay.”

“You sure kiddo?”

“Yeah I just….I saw y/n today.”

Wayne’s face contorted into deep concern.

“Oh. How is she?”

“Good. Really good.”

“And how are you really Eddie?”

Eddie looked confused now. “I told you I’m fine Wayne.”

Wayne scoffs. “Bullshit Eddie. I know how much you care about that girl and I don’t know what happened between the two of you or why she stopped hanging around here but I know it damn near ripped your heart out to lose her.”

Eddie leans his head back against the couch and brushes his fingers through his hair. “I didn’t…I didn’t lose her..”

“Well you sure as shit didn’t chase after her.”

Eddie looks up at Wayne who’s leaning against the counter with his arms crossed.

“Wayne it’s just. It wasn’t the right time to “chase after her”. I knew she needed time on her own.”

Wayne uncrosses his arms and makes his way to the couch and sits next to Eddie and rests a hand on his shoulder. “Kid. It’s never the right time. Just make sure you chase after her this time.”

Wayne stands from the couch and goes to the kitchen and starts cooking some Mac n cheese. Eddie sits on the couch and thinks about what Wayne said. He wasn’t going to let you leave him this time. He was going to go to that diner tomorrow. And the day after that. And the day after that. He will go to that diner every single day if he has to if it means getting you back in his life.

***

“BENNY WE GOT A 5 STACK, A KIDS SPAGHETTI AND A LARGE DOUBLE DECKER WITH CHEESE.” You shout across the counter to Benny in the kitchen. Turning back around you hear the chime of the diner bell and you turn to greet the customer who’s just walked in. Stopping in your tracks when you see that customer is Eddie Munson.

You’re so frozen you don’t even hand him a menu or seat him until he clears his throat and you snap back to reality. “Oh um. Eddie. Hi. So you really did show up today.”

He rocks back and forth on his feet a little bit. “Yup. Figured I’d stop in and see what all the hype is about. Plus I heard this place has an amazing waitress who works there.”

You look down at the menu you’re holding and smile. You hold the menu out to him and he takes it. As he takes it your fingers brush once again and this time you both get shocked. So much so you almost think it’s static electricity, until your heart feels all fuzzy.

You look up at Eddie and clear your throat. “So uh would you want a table or a booth.”

Eddie Scoffs. “Oh come on sweetheart you know me better than that.”

You roll your eyes but still smile at him. “So a booth I’m assuming then?”

He nods his head yes and you walk him over to a booth to seat him. Once sat you bring him a water and a coke and give him a few minutes to order. While you wait for him to order, you pick up the other order from Benny and bring it to the small family at the table nearby. Bringing extra napkins for the child with spaghetti.

As you set down the little plate of spaghetti infront of the child the child starts laughing and playing with the noodles creating art on the table. The parents pay the child no mind but you lean down next to the kid.

“Nice artwork you got going there kid.”

The kid smiles up at you. “TANKS”

“What are you making?”

“SOGETTI MONSTER!”

“Well I think the spaghetti monster would look great with some red sauce on it dontcha think?”

The child claps and screams excitedly as they take the red sauce from the plastic container and starts smearing it all over the noodles and laughing wildly. When the child is done they look up to you and wait for your approval.

“Very nice kid.”

You and the child share a little high-five and you head back to the kitchen for a moment.

Eddie finished watching the entire interaction that made his heart swell. He missed you so much and seeing you so happy and healthy made his heart happy. Knowing despite the pain and loneliness he went through after losing you. It was all okay cause it meant you were still here today.

He watches you re-emerge from the kitchen and make your way over to his table and he realizes he hasn’t even looked at the menu. He’s only been watching you.

“You ready Eddie?”

“Uh yeah I’ll just take a uh. Burger and fries.”

You don’t write it down and instead you just shout across the diner to Benny who gives you a thumbs up. Suddenly the diner door chimes and in walks another waiter who gives you a wave.

“I’ll be right back Eddie.”

He doesn’t get the chance to say anything as you’re already off following the other waiter into the back of the restaurant.

He waits for you to re-emerge momentarily but it doesn’t happen. You take so long that Eddie’s mind starts to race. Maybe you left. Maybe you and that waiter are actually a thing and you’re fooling around in the back oh god what if you had a boyfriend now? Eddie couldn’t possibly be mad at you for that. Even if you did he’d still want you in his life as his friend. You’d just be his friend that he’s hopelessly in love with.

You finally re-emerge from the back of the diner with a tray full of food in hand and you walk over to Eddie table and set the burger down in front of him. Then you do something he doesn’t expect. You set down a second plate with a burger on it and a water and a coke. Eddie looks up at you with a confused look.

You take off your apron and set it on the booth. “Mind if I join you?”

Eddies taken aback in the best way possible. He sputters out his response.”uh uh uh of course yeah yah absolutely.”

You sit across from him and take a sip of your drink before leaning back against the booth and looking at Eddie.

“So Eddie, how's things outside of work?”

“Good! I’m good. I graduated. Saving up my money to get a place of my own.”

“That’s great Ed’s! And how’s the band? You guys still playing at the hideout?”

“Yup every Tuesday.”

“Maybe I’ll come to a show again sometime. I haven’t been to the hideout since….”

You look down at your hands beneath the booth instead of making eye-contact with Eddie. Eddie takes over for you.

“Yeah you should come see us. I know Gareth and Jeff really miss you.”

“Oh really? Just them?”

Eddie drops his burger back on his plate. “WHAT? No no I-I miss you too.”

You giggle and take a bite of a fry. Before taking the bun off your burger and throwing the pickles onto Eddie’s plate without thinking. A small gesture that Eddie notices. Something you used to do whenever you two would get food together.

Eddie takes the pickles and eats them quickly, before tossing a few of his fries onto your plate. Always had to be a trade.

You look back up at him.

“So how's Wayne?”

“He’s good. He misses you too.”

“Did Wayne actually say that?”

“Wellllll no. But I know he does.”

“I doubt he does.”

“Why would you say that y/n?”

“Pffft Eddie anytime I was with you I was….well I was….I was drugged out.”

Eddie looks up at you and reaches out across the table and grabs your hand.

“Hey look at me.”

You do.

“Just cause you were drugged out doesn’t mean he doesn’t miss you. Doesn’t mean I don’t miss you. We all miss you.”

You squeeze his hand. “I missed you too, Ed's.”

There’s a moment of silence as you two look at each other. Before you pick up a fry and throw it at him. He catches it in his mouth.

“So y/n have you talked to the gang at all?”

“Like Steve? Nancy? Jonathan? Robin? The kids?”

“Yeah.”

“Uh no. I haven’t.”

“Glad to know it wasn’t just me.”

“Well I still talk to Argyle. I get my weed from him.”

Eddie stiffens and perks up and looks at you with concern. “W-what?”

You recognize his concern and what is causing it. “Just weed Eddie. Argyle doesn’t do anything else. And nobody else would sell to me anyways. Even if they would, I'm done now. I’m clean Ed’s. I promise.”

He relaxes a bit. “That’s good. I’m glad.”

You continue eating and catching up for a while talking about your old friends and asking how everyone is.

“Eddie I don’t know.”

“You should come, it'll be great.”

“Will they even want me there Eddie? I haven't seen them in months.”

“Trust me y/n they’ll love to see you. Just come. It’s at Steve’s this Friday. It’ll be just us older kids. Small get together you know.”

You think on It for a second and nod your head in agreement. “Fine, I'll come. Now I really gotta get back to work Eddie, are you done with your food.”

He checks his watch and realises his lunch break was over about 30 minutes ago. And he rushes to stand from the booth.

“Yup I’m all done. I’ll see you tomorrow okay?”

“See you tomorrow Ed’s.”

You wave and watch him walk out of the diner and get in his van. After spending time with Eddie it feels like a little piece of your heart has healed.

***

Days would pass and everyday Eddie would come in and eat lunch and you would sit down and eat lunch with him. Today was Friday afternoon and just like clockwork the chime of the diner bell rings and in walks Eddie in his usual mechanic attire.

He doesn’t bother with the menu and he seats himself at the usual booth he’s been sitting in for the last week. You put in the orders and wait for the food to be done before bringing it out and taking a seat with Eddie on your lunch break.

Eddie starts devouring his food but you don’t. He takes notice of this. “What’s up?”

“Nothin just not very hungry.”

“Oh come on y/n you’ve been busting your ass over these tables all day and you’re trying to tell me you haven’t worked up an appetite.”

You sigh and take a bite of a fry. “There you happy Ed’s?”

“I’ll be happy when you tell me what’s eatin at ya” he flicks a fry off of his plate at you and it hits you in the face.

You sigh and take a sip of your drink before clearing your throat. “I’m just nervous to see everyone tonight that’s all. What if they don’t really wanna see me Ed’s. I mean I kinda just blew them off like it was nothin with no explanation.”

Eddie looks down at his plate. “Y/n they all know you were struggling. They’re just glad you’re okay. I already told them you’re coming tonight and they’re excited. Here how about I pick you up and we’ll go together? Does that make it any better?”

“Yeah that makes it a little better.” You pick up your burger and take a bite of it.

Eating your lunch and going back to work you wait for the end of the day. Heading home you take the time to get changed into an outfit that you find cute and you freshen up a bit as you wait for Eddie to pick you up for the evening.

As you sit there waiting for Eddie the nerves work their way back into your brain. This would be the first time you’re hanging out with everybody after what happened. And really this would be the first time hanging out with Eddie outside of work.

You realized you two haven’t actually broached the subject of what happened and you haven’t talked about anything related to it and you were scared it would come up during the night's events and you wouldn’t know what to say.

As you sit in thought you hear a knock at the front door. Standing up you make your way to the door and open it to find Eddie. You’d almost forgotten his usual attire and had his hair down because the last week you’d only seen him on his lunch breaks from the mechanic shop. But now stood in front of you was just your old pal Eddie clad in metal head fashion.

“You ready to go sweetheart?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

You step out of the house and make your way to Eddie’s van. He jogs ahead of you a bit and opens the door to the passenger side for you and you giggle as you get in the van. He was always a gentleman.

The ride to Steve’s house was relatively quiet between the two of you as you sat there listening to the music blaring from Eddie’s radio. It was only when he pulled into Steve’s driveway that Eddie broke the silence.

“So uh when we go in there’ll probably be weed and booze and stuff around is that gonna be okay?”

“Yeah Eddie I’ll be fine. I don’t drink but I may partake in some smoking alright?”

“Sounds good to me sweetheart.”

He makes his way out of the van and round to the passenger side and opens the door for you once more. The two of you walk up the path to Steve’s front door and Eddie knocks for the both of you. The door swings open a moment later and you’re met by the bright smiling face of the host Steve Harrington.

“Y/n! Hey!” He leans in and grabs you into a hug without a second’s hesitation. You let out a small squeak in surprise but hug him back nonetheless. When Steve releases you he opens the door even further and gestures for you and Eddie to come in.

Steve leads the way to his living room where you see Nancy, Robin, Jonathan, and Argyle sat on the couches and floor surrounded by smoke and booze and they appear to be in the midst of a conversation when Robin takes notice of you all walking into the room.

Robin quickly jumps up off the couch and runs over to you and tackles you in a hug and starts speaking a million miles a minute. “Y/n oh my god I missed you so much you missed so much at our hangouts like time Jonathan got so cross faded that he skinny dipped and the time Nancy got so high that she started-“ Robin was quickly cut off by Nancy who walked beside you and pulled Robin off of you.

“Sorry y/n robins already had quite a bit to smoke so you know how she gets. Come on, come sit with us.”

You look over at Eddie who gives you a light nod of encouragement and you let yourself be guided to the couch to sit between Robin and Nancy. You give Jonathan and Argyle a wave and argyle holds up a joint and reaches it out towards you and you accept it and take a hit of it before offering to pass it to Nancy who accepts. As Nancy finishes taking her hit and passing it to Steve, Nancy looks to you and begins to speak.

“So y/n how have you been?”

“I’ve been good! I work at benny's diner now and I’m clean so I’m doing really well.”

“I’m glad to hear that. So are you planning on going to college or anything at the moment?”

“Um at the moment no but I’ve been thinking about it a little bit. So Nancy, how are you?”

“So Nancy, are you still going to Emerson in the fall?”

“Oh no I’m staying here and going to Hawkins community with Jonathan.”

“That’s nice and Steve, Robin how are you guys?”

Steve takes a sip of beer before responding “Kieth promoted us so now we get to watch over the arcade somedays and family video on others. The pay raise has been nice.”

As the night goes on and you catch up and smoke with your friends the nerves you felt about the evening melt away. You had missed your friends so much and now you know pushing them away was a mistake. It feels like another part of you has healed by talking to them and spending time with them. Eventually everyone agrees they’re too stoned or drunk to go home so Steve allows everyone to stay in the guest rooms of his house.

Nancy and Jonathan take a room and Steve and Robin crash together. Argyle had already passed out on the floor which left just you and Eddie for the last spare guest room. As you walked to the room with a very high Eddie the two of you couldn't stop giggling.

You walk into the room and close the door behind you and then you walk over to the bed and collapse back dramatically.

“That tired huh sweetheart?”

Eddie says as he makes his way over to you. He sits gently on the edge of the bed and removes his boots before collapsing back next to you and turning on his side.

“Not tired Ed’s. Just happy.”

“Happy huh? So you had a good time?”

“A good time? Ed’s I had a great time. I’m still having a great time. Cause I’m here with you. I missed you Ed’s.”

Your giggly demeanor has faded and turned into something more serious as you turn on your side to look at Eddie. He notices the change in your demeanor and shifts into a more serious vibe of his own.

“You’re not drunk are you sweetheart?”

“No Eddie, I'm serious. I missed you. I missed all of you and it was so stupid of me to push all of you guys away.” Tears prick the corners of your eyes and Eddie takes notice.

Bringing a hand up to your face in order to wipe the tears that fall.

“Oh sweetheart, we know why you pushed us away. You got clean sweetheart and maybe being around us would have made that harder for you. I know being around me would have made that harder on you. Don’t feel bad please sweetheart. We’re all back together now and that’s what matters.”

You sniffle a little bit and place your hand over his on your face.

“I never thanked you Eddie.”

“Thanked me, for what sweetheart?”

“For saving my life.”

Oh. Oh . Eddie wasn’t expecting that and it made his entire heart sink. Now the tears are threatening the corners of his eyes.

“Sweetheart, you don’t need to thank me. Actually you shouldn’t thank me. I was the reason you were addicted in the first place. I shouldn’t have been dealing at all and I’m glad I stopped but please don’t thank me.”

You take your hand off of his and reach up to his face where you brush some of the hair out of his face And wipe the tears that fall down.

“Eddie Munson. You saved my life. I should never have blamed you or said what I said that day. As much as it’s true that you shouldn’t have sold me the drugs in the first place, I shouldn’t have been buying them in the first place. Blame is a two way street where we’re both responsible. But you’re the one who saved my life. You saved me from myself Eddie and I think we both know I wouldn’t be here today if I’d kept going on the path I was on. Without you Eddie I’d be gone.”

Eddie was full on crying at this point and he couldn’t stop it. He sat up on the edge of the bed and placed his head in his hands. You made your way off the bed to kneel in front of him. Gently reaching up and taking his hands off of his face.

“Please look at me Eddie.”

“I couldn’t watch you do that to yourself y/n it was killing me. And losing you killed me a little more. Please don’t ever leave me again y/n I can’t lose you. I stopped dealing and everything and I’ll never ever do it again and I’m just so glad to have you back in my life. Please don’t leave me again.”

You climb up into his lap and envelope him into a hug that he accepts with desperation clinging onto you as if you’re going to disappear at any moment.

“Eddie, I'm not going anywhere this time I promise you. I’m not leaving you again Ed’s. Can I tell you something Ed’s.”

He sniffles and nods his head yes as he clings to you.

“I think I had it all wrong back then Ed’s. I used the drugs cause I thought of it as medicine. I thought the drugs would help me cover up all the shitty emotions and I wouldn’t need anything else. Even though it was killing me. But being with you these last few days has been more of a medicine to me than the drugs ever were. It was you Eddie. You were the right medicine Eddie.”

Eddie digs his face deeper into the crook of your neck and you can hear his quiet sobs as you run your fingers through his hair in an attempt to soothe him. After a moment of sobbing Eddie lifts his head slightly. And whispers. “Can I tell you something now?”

You nod your head yes.

“I think you’re my medicine too. You’re the only thing that makes this world better sometimes. You heal me in every way that weed and booze can’t and never will. You’re it for me y/n. I-I love you.”

You lean back just enough to where you can see Eddie’s face. You reach up and wipe the tears that had fallen before grabbing his face and pulling him into a kiss.

Your first kiss with Eddie is sweet and soft. Almost like you’re both afraid to break each other. But Eddie’s not having that. He deepens the kiss and pulls you into him and your bodies are flush against one another leaving no space.

You two only pull away from the kiss when you become desperate for air. You lean your forehead against his and just smile.

“I love you too Ed’s. Can we go to sleep now?”

“I love you so much sweetheart. Of course we can, sweetheart.”

He kisses you on the forehead and flops back down on the mattress taking you with him landing on top of him in a hug. And that’s how the two of you fall asleep. He gets to sleep knowing that he did the right thing. Knowing he has you back in his life and that you’re not going anywhere. And you fall asleep cuddled up with him knowing you’d found the right medicine.

[idontplaytrack]

Bruises

Jos Cleary-Lopez x fem! reader

Warnings: violence, injury, coarse language, fluff, angst. Reader’s brother is an asshole, use of Jos’ powers.

In which reader’s sudden absence from school leads Jos to think that things aren’t as they seem

Requested? Yes / No

Thank you for your request. Enjoy <3

You were at school Monday, but Tuesday you weren’t- Jos receives a text from you that said that you weren’t feeling well. She says she wants to go over but you told her you were contagious so she’d stayed away. A few days went by now…Friday. Friday morning. Jos showed up at your front door and you were not expecting it.

“I should’ve known.” Jos scoffs, “I should’ve known…you’ve never told me to stay away from you when you’re sick. So spill, what the fuck happened here? Why are you covered in bruises?”

“Who’s at the door, y/n?”

Judging by how you tensed up upon hearing that voice, Jos’ instincts kicked in and she just pulled you out the door and shut it. “Jos, what are you doing?!”

“Saving your ass from whoever—.”

“My brother?” You scoffed, “It’s not gonna change. This isn’t the first time he’s used me as his punching bag just because life doesn’t go his way.”

“What…?” Jos was in disbelief, “Your brother did this to you? Oh, what the fuck—”

The front door swings open, “Oh, hi, Jos.” Your brother flashes a smile. It was so sweet, it made Jos want to immediately sucker punch him. “Cut the crap, Wyatt.” Jos spat, “You did this to your sister? For what? You failed a quiz? You got detention? A girl rejected you?”

Wyatt stayed somewhat composed until the last statement. He tried to punch you again, but Jos quickly raised her hand and activated her power. The zapping could be heard as she wiggled her fingers, “You wanna try me? I can literally fry you to death. And trust me, I will. You are a sicko for taking your bitterness on your own sister. Your ego’s bruised, so what? That is no reason to lay a hand on someone else. You don’t deserve any kindness.”

“Fuck you!” Wyatt screeched.

“I would puke in your mouth.” Jos scoffed, balling her fists and flexing her fingers. You saw the little zaps in between her fingers. And then, Wyatt gets zapped in the crotch, “I can keep going and going, until you won’t be able to feel a thing for the rest of your life. Try me. Go ahead.”

“I don’t get why you went for her when I was available?” Wyatt scoffs, acting unfazed. His eyes were now fixated on her chest, making your blood boil. You were wanting to run towards him to tackle him for this alone. “You’re scum.” Jos literally spat in his face, giving him one last jolt. With that, she pushes past him with you to go gather some of your belongings before she drove you to her place.

“You’re crazy.”

“No, baby.” Jos shook her head, “He’s the crazy one. Sick in the head.”

————

“Oh, my God, Jos. What happened—”

“Not now, Mom. She doesn’t need it.” Jos stops Margot and then carried on leading you to her room. Jos made sure you didn’t have any injuries that required urgent medical attention before letting you go to sleep. “I’m gonna go talk to my Mom, you just rest okay?”

“Could you cuddle with me, later please?”

“I will once I’m done filling my mom in, alright?” Jos promised, “Sleep tight.” Jos presses a gentle kiss to your forehead before exiting her room, leaving the door slightly ajar.

Descending the stairs, Jos spots Margot sitting on the couch in the living room with a glass of wine in hand. “Mom, I know you have questions. So I’m just gonna tell you about what happened now, while I’ve finally got y/n to calm down and get some rest.”

“Okay, I’m listening.” Margot turned around to look at Jos, gesturing for her to join her on the couch.

“After Monday, y/n didn’t show up at school at all. I texted her and she said she was sick and contagious and didn’t want me to be there. But something in my gut just told me that something was going on— I couldn’t shake that feeling off and she was being so vague in her responses so I went over to her house. She answered the door, perfectly healthy but covered in bruises. Her brother then asked who was at the door, she tensed up. I pulled her out of the house and shut the door. But before we could leave, Wyatt, her brother showed up. He was being an asshole, he took out his anger and hatred for women, the world…on y/n. She was too scared to do anything after awhile because none of her pleas for him to stop, worked. So I- I zapped him because of all that and because he tried to come onto me.”

“Well, Wyatt definitely got what he deserved.” Margot says, a brow raised as she took a sip of her drink, “Did he hurt you too?”

“Oh, hell no. He wouldn’t dare.” Jos scoffed, “He’s a coward, only preying on people who he knew would be too scared to retaliate. But no one lays a hand on the girl I love. Let’s just hope that he’s finally learned that. Otherwise I’m going back there and frying the fuck out of his balls.”

Margot bit back a laugh, “While I am not against that, that would also get you in trouble with the law. So while we have the upper hand, we file a police report and have it on record. Okay?”

“Okay, I will-”

“We’ll talk to her together after she’s gotten some rest.” Margot assured.

“Alright, thanks Mama.” Jos gives Margot a hug before retreating to her room.

Jos enters her room and shut her door, walking up to her wardrobe to get a change of clothes. Quietly, she climbs into bed beside you after she was in a more comfortable outfit. Even though you were asleep, you could just feel her presence and you snuggled closer to her. Her hand rests on your back, rubbing it soothingly as you slept. She watches you sleep, feeling her heart ache at the sight of your battered face and body before her eyes. But she knew that you would be safer here- way safer. Jos would make sure of it, that no one would ever hurt you again. Ever.

[ilguna]

Tacenda - Alternate Storyline (f.o)

Summary: you’ll never truly be free from the Capitol.

Word Count; 15k? idk - edit, nearly a full fucking year later, it’s 55.7k lmfaoo 

Warnings; swearing, death, torture, malnutrition, starvation & dehydration.

NOTES: This is the entire storyline of what would have been the story if I had liked where it was going. Good thing I didn’t go with this lol.

–

Disclaimer: You won’t be missing anything from chapters 1-3 because nothing really happens. The only thing that could be considered significant is Cecelia asking reader about her body and how she’s feeling. Cecelia asks this because she’s been pregnant three times before and although pregnancies differ for everyone, she was just taking a guess. Other than that, there’s nothing else you need to know.

-- Chapter Four --

It took a little longer to get out of bed this morning, like it had on the train. Finnick sat next to you the entire time while you explained over the nausea. You told him your theory that it’s because you’re stuffing yourself, because it’s logical. All he did was continue to brush your hair out of your face and suggested not to eat as much.

Which was the thing. You ate a light breakfast, stayed hydrated throughout the day. Then you ate healthy snacks while you were getting ready for the parade. And then once again, when you got into the apartment, you ate slowly and tried not to shovel it in too quickly.

Normally you eat as quickly as possible because you won’t fill up as quickly. If you’re taking your time, then of course you’re going to be full faster. And you didn’t even eat that much last night either. You thought it would give you a stomach ache right after eating, but there you were, the morning after.

When you had gotten up, you then noticed a pain in your achilles on your feet.

There’s blisters lining the back of your feet because of the heels that you were forced to wear during the tribute parade. Laurel knew what she was doing when she gave those massive shoes to you, and you have to give her props. Her revenge was silent, but lasting. You’ll have these for a little while.

Unfortunately for her, you know a couple of ways to keep them from getting worse. The first thing you did at brunch--since you and Finnick had gotten up a little later than expected--was complain to Elysia and Mags until they told you to shut up. Elysia told you she would find some healing cream for you to use. But in the meantime, you would just have to deal with it.

To not make them worse, you’ve decided against shoes today. You’ll still be wearing the training outfits that are provided. You had a choice when it came to a top, a sports bra, a tank top and a full-sleeved shirt. You decided for the sports bra, since it wasn’t as uncomfortable as you thought. Plus, the leggings they’ve provided are high-waisted on you. You’re not showing as much skin as you thought you would.

Finnick didn’t really have a chance when it came to what to wear. He slid on his sleeveless tank top and the leggings that he was provided. It was either sleeveless or full-sleeved. Leave it to your husband to show off all the muscle.

After you guys were dressed--opting for a shower after training--you and him said your goodbyes to Elysia and Mags. You two will see them at dinner, but not in-between. They’re sponsor hunting, they’re going to start tying down people.

As you and Finnick head down the hallway, hand-in-hand, he starts to head for the elevator. He knows the plan for today, this is just to throw off anyone that might be watching.

“Let’s take the stairs today,” you tell him, letting go of his hand as you bounce around in the hallway giddily, it’s all an act, “As a warm-up. We can’t just go in there without stretching first.”

“We’re going down the stairs, not up,” he says, but there’s a smile hinting at his face.

“All the same to me!” You smile at him.

You go to grab the door first, but Finnick isn’t having it. He practically pushes you out of the way so he can get there first. All so he can open the door for you, what a dork.

“Thank you.” you chirp, skipping into the stairwell, he follows you in, and even makes a point to pull the door shut entirely.

You guys go down about two flights of stairs, and you’re breathing a little heavier than normal. You have to slow, fanning your face, “I don’t know what’s the matter.”

“Come here,” Finnick holds your hand until you’re at a landing part. He presses the back of his hand to your forehead, and frowns, “You might have a cold.”

Even though you won’t be able to feel the heat yourself, you do the same as him, trying to feel just how hot you are, “That’s weird. I guess we’ll have to talk to Elysia about that too.”

“It’ll probably pass, just take it easy.” he tells you, and just like that, you guys go a little slower.

At the bottom of the staircase is Haymitch, staring up at you guys. You motion for him to go up the couple of steps to where you are. This is mainly to get away from the door, there’s two peacekeepers out there. If they hear anything, they are going to report it. The smart thing to do is get away from the door, and stay quiet.

“I came down the stairs.” he tells you two, “They don’t know I’m in here.”

“Same as us.” Finnick nods.

You lean up against the wall, fanning your face since the humidity in the stairwell isn’t the best. It’s making you feel like you’re overheating, like heat stroke, which you’ve had before in the summertime from being on the boats for too long. The only problem is, you haven’t gone outside since yesterday during the parade. These next few days, you’re going to be inside.

Almost as if Finnick knows that something is up, he wraps an arm around your waist. If you fall, he’ll keep you from collapsing against the cement. Although, being pressed up against his body is making all of this worse. You don’t complain though, you’d rather have his arm around you than not. It’s a safety net.

“Katniss is stand-offish.” Haymitch begins, and you can’t help but snort. Neither of you interrupt him though, “She’s difficult to work with at first, but the more you talk to her, the easier she’ll be.”

“But why?” you ask, “We don’t mind being in an alliance with her, but what’s your motive of making one for her?”

He lowers his voice considerably, “A rebellion.”

You and Finnick share a look, and just right there is enough communication. He gives you a look of ‘this is happening’ and you tell him ‘our time is now’. Just in that one little look, an understanding has passed through you two.

“We’re in.” Finnick says for the both of you, shocking Haymitch, “What will it take?”

Haymitch is shocked, “That’s… it?”

You tilt your head, “The districts are going nuts right now. Just at the mention of it, four goes wild. Now’s the time to do it. What do we have to do to help?”

And just like that, Haymitch launches into his explanation. Starting from the beginning, and how the berries had angered Snow. Katniss and Peeta’s families were on the line, and so they were trying to do everything they could to quiet down the districts. Including a marriage to appease the Capitol to prove that the action was done out of love, rather than resistance.

Haymitch tells you that there’s talk about it everywhere, and people are looking at her. He believes that she can be the face of it. She can get people moving behind her, but a few things need to happen first.

She needs to stay alive. An alliance acts in her best interest, but since she’s stubborn, she won’t be making it by herself. She might suggest a few people that she might like, but other than that, it’s one thing or nothing. The worst thing about it, is that Katniss can’t know that any of this is going on.

Haymitch is supposed to be ‘saving’ Peeta, and not her. Since she was ‘saved’ the first time around, she wants it to be Peeta’s turn. But Peeta doesn’t like that, and he’s already acting with Haymitch to make it look like they’re working in Katniss’s favor. It’s unnecessarily complicated, and you’re not too interested in that.

To boil it down, you and Finnick will spread the word a little bit, bring in people that might find this to be a good idea. Keep it from the careers because they can be difficult. They love the Capitol because they spoil them. So, telling them would result in the destruction of the plan.

Katniss can’t know that any of this is happening. You have to pretend that none of this is happening. Haymitch will give Finnick a bracelet as solidarity with you guys, since you’re going to be the main part of the protection. You’ll show it to Katniss inside of the arena, and just like that, hopefully she’ll put the puzzle pieces together and allow you to help her.

The last part of the plan is keep her alive long enough for them to take her out and take them to District Thirteen. You called Haymitch a lunatic, because everyone knows what happened to thirteen for being rebellious. If they’re still thriving, then you guys would have seen them by now. But all he had to do was tell you that they have a gamemaker in on it already.

That was convincing enough. If a gamemaker is in on this, the plan will be much easier. They have more insight than you guys do. Haymitch can be unreliable, but you asked if he’s sure that Plutarch is trustable, and he told you yes.

After that, you split. Haymitch went back upstairs to get his tributes, and you and Finnick left the stairwell together, hand in hand. You made a comment while passing the peacekeepers about being tired, telling Finnick that you don’t feel that well and you hope that it passes.

It wasn’t until you entered the actual building, when you started to feel better. The entire building has AC like you wouldn’t believe. It was only a couple of minutes before you completely forgot about it entirely.

You and Finnick spend a moment, finding people and choosing wisely. Unsurprisingly, he wants to have a chat with Johanna, and you decide that you might as well see Cecelia again. Her and Woof are sticking together it seems, they’re sitting around the bug station.

That’s a good thing to touch up on. The dangers that might be hiding around inside of the arena. There’s so many possibilities and dangers that the arena holds, that it just makes you overwhelmed.

First, it’s fish, and the type that live in the fresh water, or salt water. Next are the types of leaves, is it ivy or not. The trees, do they burn smoke easily? The berries and the chance that they’re poisonous. And this is all to be paired with not having the food, or the iodine to make the water safe. Not being able to skin rabbits and cook it properly so you don’t get sick.

Finnick taught you CPR one of the times on the train while you were teaching tributes before all of this--of course. That goes right along with first aid. You’ve gone as far as to recreate the creams to show the tributes which ones mean which. What’s healing, what’s supposed to be used on your weapon, and so on. You teach them how to stitch, and create stents and the list goes on.

It’s so simple to overlook something like bugs. When you’re so worried about literally everything else.

Cecelia offers you a big smile when you sit beside her. Watching as she and Woof easily identify the types of bugs. You keep the conversation light, and then you begin to enter in the keywords.

“How would you feel about an alliance?” you ask, she looks up, “This can go for you and Woof.”

Woof smiles, but Cecelia looks a little confused, probably wondering what’s bringing this all on. You almost can’t believe that she thinks that you wouldn’t invite her into an alliance with you and Finnick. She’s practically your best friend, for her not to be in it would be stupid.

“Sure, is Finnick fine with this?” she asks, going back to the bug game.

“Actually, a few of us are okay with this.” it’s a hint that there’s more than one of you, “it’s sort of a protection plan.”

Cecelia nods, thinking about this. You hope that she’s smart enough to get this. She’s raised three kids that have spoken in cryptic ways when they’re toddlers. It can’t be that hard to decipher the double meaning in words. You had to go through this all with Alyssum.

“Behalf?” she asks subtly.

“Katniss.” you tell her, “Girl on fire, it’s quite a brand isn’t it? It’s almost like she’s trying to set the Capitol ablaze.”

Her eyes flicker to yours the same time that Woof does, “Is that so?”

“You don’t think so?” you’re hoping that isn’t a no.

You watch as Cecelia’s face slowly holds a smile, “I do think so. Count me in.”

“Me too.” Woof tells you.

“More info to come.” you mouth quietly, and they nod slightly, “Nice seeing you guys again.”

Again, before you leave, Cecelia reaches out, taking your wrist, “How are you feeling?”

Your frown is quick, “Are you on about the same thing from yesterday?”

“It was a simple question.” She dodges yours.

There’s no reason to lie, “I think I’m coming down with a cold or something. I’m more tired than usual, and I feel nauseous when I first get up.”

Her face twists for a second, you can’t catch what it’s about at all, because it’s quick. She’s mastered a poker face from having kids for so long, her face smoothes over and it makes you doubt that it had even happened.

“Maybe you should see one of the medical staff,” she suggests, “They’ll give you something so you’re not sick when you’re in the arena. Better to get it when it first starts, right?”

You nod slightly, and she releases your arm, “I’ll see them after training or something.”

“Yeah, take care.”

Normally, when you get a cold, they’re not even that bad. Your body is hot but you feel cold. You just spend the time in bed, but you know you can’t do that exactly. The people around you will know something is up, and it’ll ruin how they see you. Not so scary when you’re dying in bed from a cold.

Deciding that visiting two people is enough, you go ahead and head over to one of the knife throwing stations. As you get closer, you can see that they have projections now, it’s not just dummies anymore. They move, and get closer, and throw virtual weapons.

“Perfect.” you laugh, stepping up to one of the stations.

At the programming, you go ahead and make it the hardest possible. You select your weapon, keeping it at knives. It’ll be easier to throw than spears. Spears, you have to get your hands right on the hilt before throwing it. As for knives, you’re literally picking them up and throwing them.

You go ahead and pick up a few, feeling them in your hand. As a test run, the program automatically gives you one to start with. You have to find your footing first. You’re not in shoes, you’re barefoot. It’ll be easier for you to slip, since your feet aren’t gripped like the bottom of a shoe is.

However, you’ve been training for months for this exact moment. It might have been in shoes, but you haven’t fallen in a long ass time. You’ve always caught yourself, gradually becoming less clumsy as time goes along.

You throw the knife, being careful as to watch how it flies through the air. It hits the hologram in the middle of the chest, and then the blocks crumble. Just like that, the game has started, and they’re coming at you. For a moment, you’re overwhelmed, because you need to find a pattern for it.

Then, it all comes to you. They come in twos to three’s. You can hit them the first time if you aim for the chest and above. You’re typically hitting them in the head, getting them down the first time around. But on the off chance of missing it the first time, you always have an extra fourth knife in your hand.

You take them on at one at a time. The closest one is always the easiest, you get them out almost immediately. The second one is a little harder, you lean forward a bit more for this one. And the final one, is the one you’re needing the fourth knife for. They’re farther back on purpose, and they don’t come any closer past the half-way mark.

You throw with more force, allowing your body to move forward with the momentum that you build. The knives rest between your left hand’s fingers. You’ll grab the handle, flip for the blade, and then chuck.

The game is over before you realize it. There’s no more people coming at you, it’s just the playing field in front of you.

This is when you’re able to see that you’ve successfully hit the wall, that’s over twenty-five feet away from you, hard enough to get the entire knife into the wall. The ones that weren’t tough enough to make it through, dented.

“Damn.” Finnick’s voice is smooth, he whistles slightly, “That was good.”

You turn slowly, because you’re feeling lightheaded. You can suddenly feel the sweat pouring out of your body, feel it running down your face. You place your hand down to steady yourself, but it does nothing, it’s almost like an anchor.

Your body feels like it’s been set on fire.

Finnick jumps immediately, catching you before you can hit the floor. You have a tight grip on his shirt as he pulls you closer, up against his body, “Breathe, honey.”

You try to match your breathing with his. You’re so tired. You’ve never felt this tired and useless before. You’ve never been so incapable of doing this that requires physical activity. You’re frustrated and angry and embarrassed.

Finnick fans your face, occasionally feeling your forehead. There’s a pair of footsteps though, coming up to you guys. As soon as they bend down, you’re able to see that it’s Johanna, “Everyone’s staring.”

“I can imagine.” you tell her, trying to take deep breaths, “I don’t know what’s happening.”

“It’s okay.” Finnick tells you, “Can you stand?”

You nod, “I just need another minute, I’m sorry.”

Finnick cups your face with his free hand, since the other is cradling you against his body to keep you from slipping. Your grip on his shirt has loosened, since he does have you, “Don’t apologize.”

It’s another minute of Johanna squatting by you guys, talking to you as if everything is normal before you can get up again. She gets you up, giving Finnick a chance to stand. As soon as he’s on his feet, he’s holding onto you.

“You should go back to the apartment.” he tells you, “Rest.”

“Finn, these are the symptoms of heatstroke.” you shake your head at him, “The heat, the dizziness, me nearly passing out.”

“It can’t be that.”

“It can’t be a cold either.” you two have stopped in the middle of the place, staring at each other, “I’m not coughing or sneezing. My throat doesn’t hurt at all.”

He nods slowly, “We can talk to Mags.”

“She’s out sponsor hunting. My best bet is here. I’ll take it easy, tie knots or whatever. I just can’t leave.”

Finnick doesn’t like this. He clearly wants you to just rest for the rest of the day. It’s probably scary for him, to see you weak so suddenly…

Oh.

You look at Finnick to see the desperation, “Finn, it’s not Typhoid.”

“It’s the symptoms.” he tells you, and you can see the tears in his eyes at the mention of the sickness, “you have the symptoms of it.”

“The food and water here aren’t infected.” you tell him, shaking your head, “I can’t be sick like that again. Everything back home was fine too.”

“Are you sure?” he asks.

“Finn, if the water was infected, then we would have known a long time ago.” You say, and he takes a moment to think about it, “I just need something relaxing to do for a while. I promise not to put myself out like that again. I didn’t even know I was tired until I looked at you.”

Finnick slowly holds into you again, “Relaxing? How about some fish hook making?”

You smile a little bit, “I can do that. The ones I make are pretty cool.”

“We’ll see about that.” It’s clearly a challenge.

You and Finnick sit at the station for a while. The both of you stand side-by-side, twisting the lines in and out. You’ll occasionally add a bit of decoration.

Finnick never stops glancing at you periodically. Even when Katniss and Peeta have entered the building, his eyes are on you. He’s paying attention to you, watching to see if there’s any change of expression. Maybe pain, or if you pale suddenly.

You glance up briefly from what you’re doing to see that Katniss is heading your way from Beetee and Wiress.

“Fire.” you mutter, going back to what you were doing. This makes him look up though.

“Katniss, welcome.” Finnick laughs.

“Don’t be an ass.” you tell him, taking a step back from your hook. Finnick does the same, and you compare the two, “Yeah, no I definitely won.”

Finnick’s face twists, “Bullshit.”

“Look at it!” you laugh, motioning to what’s in front of you, “Clearly I have better taste. Don’t you think, Katniss?”

She’s a little surprised that you’ve drug her into this conversation, but it’s all in good fun. You’re hoping that Haymitch wasn’t too right on the whole uncomfortable thing. She’s got the whole country on lock with how she’s doing things. She acts awkward, but there’s more to her.

Katniss moves around the table to stand behind you and Finnick. He crosses his arms, raising an eyebrow at your new judge. While you on the other hand, are grinning like an idiot at Finnick. You know who she’s going to pick.

“Sorry, Finnick.” Katniss says, “Hers is pretty good.”

“Pretty good?” you ask, “You’re telling me you can do any better?”

Her face flushes briefly, “Well--no…”

You bump her shoulder slightly, “Just messing with you.”

She smiles, and looks up to where the careers are. You can’t help but to follow, expecting them to still be throwing knives and practicing together. Earlier, Enobaria was actually fighting with a peacekeeper that’s made for dueling with. Now, she stands with the rest.

Almost as if this is what they were waiting for, you watch as Cashmere dramatically collapses, Gloss holding her.

“Fuck you.” you hiss, face scrunching up as you look back down to the hook. You’re shaking your head, braiding some twine. You manage to move your finger the wrong way, pricking your finger on the hook.

“Hey--” Finnick takes your hands in his, still distracted by what’s going on.

You look up again to see that they’re still playing it out.

You’re not going to let this happen. Fuck all of them for thinking that they’ll get away with this.

You yank your hands from Finnicks, clenching your teeth and narrowing your eyes at the four. As you walk over, they seem to notice your presence. Almost robotically, you tilt your head, and then crouch down to her level, getting in her face.

“Does this make you feel special?” you ask her, “Are you so mad that your spotlight has been taken away, that you’re getting down on dog shit levels?”

Her mouth opens like she’s going to say something, but you’re tired of it. Tired of everything that you’ve been through these last few years. You don’t want to be here, you don’t want to be mocked. You don’t want to feel weak. They can’t take away your confidence, pride and dignity.

“You think you’re hot shit because you’re a fucking career,” you raise your voice a little bit, might as well let the gamemakers up in the box hear this. Might as well let everyone in here hear, this, “But here’s the stone cold fucking truth, I am too. Finnick is a career. Katniss is a career. Peeta is a career. Johanna is a career. Wiress and Beetee, Cecelia and Woof, Seeder and Chaff. Everyone here is a fucking career because we won our games.”

You stand up now, “You’re thirty fucking years old, you’re too old to be mocking people like a fucking toddler. Pick yourself off of the floor and realize what a bitch you look like for doing this in the first place. No one in here is impressed, except your little fucking circle.

“This won’t raise your training numbers,” you motion to the gamemakers, “You just showed them how childish you are. And you know what? Children don’t win the games. And to that I say, good riddance to you and your book club.”

There’s silence, and then Cashmere hisses, “You’re going to be the first--”

You laugh, “Save it for someone that cares, princess.”

And then you look to Brutus and Enobaria, “You two are perfectly capable of winning the games on your own, and yet here you are, hanging around the two people that will bring you down. Genius move on your part.”

“We work well together.” Enobaria defends.

“We’ll see about that in the arena.” and you look to Cashmere and Gloss for a final time, they’re sitting apart now, like two scolded children, “Grow up, seriously.”

You take your time on the walk back to Finnick and Katniss. You’re happy that no one had made a move to back you up. You confront people on your own, you don’t need any shadows.

“Sorry about that.” you say to Katniss, “They’ve got a shooting range off over there.”

With the small motion, she looks over, “Oh.”

“I’ve had enough of this place for today.” you’re mostly telling Finnick, “We should probably find some medical staff. Get me checked out and everything.”

“You sure?” Katniss asks, “You taught me how to make fish hooks, I could teach you how to shoot?”

You smile a little bit, “I’ll stick to throwing things. Tell Peeta I say hi.”

After Finnick says his goodbyes, you wave to Cecelia and Woof. Then to Johanna, because she’s your friend, unlike what you were thinking only yesterday. You might have only talked to her in passing, but you, her and Finnick all click together pretty well.

It’s like what you and Finnick used to be. Barely talking to each other, but now you’re married to him. The chances of Johanna being your best friend might be more likely than you thought.

--

After Finnick had taken you over to the first aid area, which is basically a doctors office, you made him go back to the training area. Even if it’s almost done for today, you’d rather him get his last few hours in. After he talked it through with the doctor, making sure that you wouldn’t be allowed to go back to the apartment without assistance, he finally agreed to go back.

He gave you a kiss before he left, and since then, you’ve been sitting on the leather couch they have. Eventually, you kept complaining about how hot you were, so they went ahead and got you water, as well as a folder to fan yourself in the meantime. They told you it shouldn’t be too long before they’re getting results back.

You trust them, they know what they’re doing, they have these jobs after all. And you’re surprised that they don’t look as garish as everyone else in the Capitol. For a little while, while the results first started pending, and for the part they didn’t need to supervise, someone came over to you and talked for a little while.

They told you that you’re brave for volunteering for Annie. And then they proceeded to compliment you and your fighting style. They say that they’re definitely going to sponsor you, and ask if you can pass Mags their information. You’re not stupid, so you clearly accept, and spend most of the time with them, listening about how they loved your games.

They clearly think all of this is flattering to you. But it’s all the same in your eyes. They’re picking and choosing favorites just like how you said they would. You might love to have them around from time to time for their company. The reality is though, you can only tolerate a couple of Capitol people at the moment.

The first is your prep team as a whole. Cleo, Leo and Beth, and Laurel. And the only other person is Elysia. You wouldn’t count Finnick as being someone from the Capitol, except he doesn’t stay here anymore. Here’s been here every year for a few weeks, the same as you have. And as far as you know, he’s never had the desire to come back since he was finally able to call District Four is home.

He does express to you that the secrets around District Four aren’t the same as here. You know this too, he’s told you everything he learned while he was being passed around. Finnick’s right about it not being the same thing, but he needs to come to realize that four isn’t like that. You have each other’s backs.

At some point during the whole gushing about your games bit, they finally had to go back into the back room. You acted as if you were disappointed for politeness’ sake. But the silence was finally enough to ease your headache and allow you to clear your head from all the thoughts suddenly screaming at you at once.

You’re mostly just thinking about back home and how your family must be taking all of this. You’re hoping that they’re taking it easy, and sticking together as usual. You hope they found the letter that you wrote to them that was sitting on your dresser with their names on it.

It was instructions on what to do when it comes to certain circumstances. You told them that Annie has their backs, and she’ll make sure to do her best when it comes to things. You told them that she might seem unreliable, but Annie is their best friend as much as Caspian’s family is.

The most important thing in that letter that you wrote, was the signs that you might not make it out. Of course, you want them to keep their chins up and have as much hope as they can spare for Alyssum’s sake. But you warn them that the second that your death is confirmed, they need to get the shit out of the house as fast as possible.

The last thing that they would need, is for them to all be in shock about your deaths, and for them to completely overlook everything in the house. It won’t be until it’s taken away from them, when they’ll realize that they’re just lost precious items. Your old clothes, jewelry, souvenirs, whatever.

You’ve thought ahead, you’ve taken the precautions of everything, and you’re just hoping that they fall through on it all.

You wish that you could call and talk to them, but it’s restricted since you’re a tribute and not a mentor anymore. The chances of getting away with it isn’t so slim, but you’ll pay for it later inside of the arena. Or maybe your family back home will pay for it. Because you won’t even realize that it had happened, and to them it would be a nice welcome home gift.

For you to go home to no family.

You wouldn’t put it past the Capitol.

However, if you ever go home to your family gone, you’re raising hell, and you’re raising it well. They would have every single idea on what fucking hit them because you would make it no goddamn secret.

You would tear through their people like they’re water.

A pair of feet makes you look up from where you’re staring at the white brick wall. When you look over, you see that it’s the doctor that had done the urine test. She holds an ipad in her hands now, looking down at the screen as she scrolls through it.

You know what it is, because it’s similar to the device they use in the betting room, the one you use to scroll through the gifts you can send down to the tributes. Those ones are much bigger than the one she’s holding right now. The one she’s holding is portable, and it looks lighter than the bigger one.

“Well, the results have come back,” she tells you, you figured as much. She pulls up a chair, sitting down and crossing her legs. The doctor looks more grief-stricken, there’s something wrong, “I would suggest asking us to call Finnick here.”

It’s bad news, but you figured as much. With the symptoms you have, it could hinder your performance inside of the arena. Slow you down, make you take more precautions. If Finnick knows what’s wrong with you, it’ll just be a gateway to say ‘you should have stayed at home. Had you done that, then we wouldn't be in this situation’ and honestly, you don’t need that from him. You know what you can and can’t handle.

You’ll take the news by yourself, and depending on how bad it is, you’ll tell Finnick. You’re not opposed to holding secrets from him. He might see that you’re hiding something, since that’s what he used to do. Pick people apart for secrets, but you can hold your ground.

“I don’t think I will.” you tell her.

She nods slightly, looking down at the ipad, “Okay, that’s fine. Before I can tell you though, I have to give you a disclaimer.”

The doctor sits up a little taller in her seat, “The information I’m about to tell you is completely confidential. I’ve reported it to the people that are required to know. This includes President Snow, the gamemakers and the people that overlook the rules. I’ve already gotten back the confirmation that this will not change how the games go, and they will keep on track without any delay.”

You hate to say it, but it’s scary news then. If she had to report it to the gamemakers and all of them, then that means you’ve found a loophole in the system, but it wasn’t enough for them to cancel it.

“This information will not go past anyone else. You are obviously allowed to tell whoever you want, however. But I’d recommend not going around and telling everyone.” she pauses for a moment, taking a deep breath as if this information also hurts her, “Normally, this would be good news. But in your circumstances…” she trails off, not finishing her thought as she flips the tablet around so it’s facing you.

It takes you a moment to search the screen, not sure what you’re looking for at first. She doesn’t say anything, letting you figure it out. Your eyes go from the top of the app, down to the bottom, reading all the negatives for all the tests that had been made. You’re about to tell her that you don’t see anything, until you reach the bottom.

You can feel the blood run from your face almost immediately. Your body goes rigid, but your mouth opens anyway. You exhale once, and that’s enough confirmation for her to know that you’ve seen it.

“Congratulations, Missus Odair.” she turns the tablet back to herself, her face is as grave as your entire face feels. You wonder if your heart's still beating and when you’ll finally collapse from a heart attack. It feels like you’re weightless, when her next words leave her lips, “You’re pregnant.”

-- Chapter Five --

Had you waited a couple of days before stuffing yourself full and making yourself gain weight, it would be much easier to see the baby bump. It’s very, very small, but it’s there. You’re only at three months, which is hell of a long time to go without noticing your period, but you had completely overlooked it.

You were so stressed out about the reaping coming up, it slipped your mind. And it’s not like you follow it strictly either, it comes when it comes, and it goes when it goes. You’re really just here for the ride of it. But you suppose in this situation, it would have been very helpful to know ahead of time.

You’re not stupid. If you had known that you were pregnant before the reaping, you wouldn’t have volunteered at all. And you might have even gone around and begged the other guys in the district to volunteer for Finnick if it came to it. You know you said earlier that you wouldn’t have done it for a goddamn thing, but pregnancy is different.

This is yours and Finnick’s child you’re talking about. Finnick would want to be there, and you would too. It would be a selfish thing, because you’re a selfish person. You would have done anything to get them to volunteer over Finnick in this case.

You’re sure Mags would have volunteered over you in a heartbeat. Not like she wouldn’t have originally, she sees you, Annie and Finnick as her kids. And she would be doing it in good conscious too, since she’s also saving the baby’s life. No doubt, later on the Capitol would try to paint her as some hero for it, but deep down she’d be appalled still.

The rule stands. A pregnant tribute still has to play in the games. Which means, if you had been pulled, extremely pregnant and all, they would have had to take you, unless someone were to volunteer over you. In your opinion it’s sickening. Imagine having to give birth to your child early, inside of the hunger games with absolutely no medical help.

It’s a gruesome picture, but a pregnant lady laying dead on the ground because some other heartless tribute had killed her. And the Capitol would let it happen because to them, it’s good entertainment. There’s nothing you absolutely fucking hate more than the Capitol.

Anyway, as the doctor said, it was all confidential. She wasn’t required to tell Finnick, it was just the people that would be in control of the games and what would happen in them. And since this information had gotten to Snow, he took it upon himself to do something--as some people would call--generous.

Fortunately for you, they do have medication that can lower the side effects of the pregnancy. No more heat flashes, less intense fatigue and dizziness. No more waking up in the morning feeling like you’re going to puke out everything you ate the night before.

First, you’re getting the meds free of charge for your entire duration inside of the Capitol. For five days, you’ll be able to train and act as normally as possible. No one will know what has happened unless you feel like telling them.

Second, you won’t be provided the meds inside of the arena--unless you have a couple of sponsors that are willing to send them down. This path would require you not only telling Elysia and Mags that you’re pregnant, but also a couple of rich Capitol sponsors that have connections, which means they’ll blab their mouths to everyone about how you’re pregnant.

And that is no way to get word back home that you’re pregnant. Because you can’t call your family at all, the only person that can is Mags. Once again, you’re not going to tell her this, because you’re going to get your ass whooped. You may be a grown adult, and she may be elderly, but she’s not past putting you in your place for a second time.

Note that the first time was for volunteering. She might not speak, but her writing is different when she’s angry, and it conveys the message pretty well. She’s not happy that you jeopardized your future, and if she knows that you’re pregnant… she might just kill you before you even make it into the arena.

Back to the original topic, this is when Snow’s generosity comes in. He’s decided to give you a head start, and on the day that the games start, he’s allowing you to take the final bit of pills. You won’t be able to smuggle any into the arena, but at least you’ll be able to move freely without pain during the most important day of the games.

You made sure the doctor sent your thanks to him, and after that it’s been thinking and radio silence since.

You’re stuck on the dilemma of telling Finnick or not. You know that he should know so that when you are inside of the arena, he can keep a better eye on you. But on the other hand, you don’t need him worrying. The entire reason why you volunteered in the first place was so you’d be able to protect him whenever you’d need to.

It would defeat the entire purpose if he’s holding onto you, and protecting you, rather than working together. Plus, you’re not too thrilled about the conversation that’ll happen after the news. He’s clearly going to rub it in your face that you should have just stayed home, and what will happen if you are killed inside of the arena now.

You’re not ready for that conversation, because you weren’t expecting that conversation. It wasn’t something you’d taken into consideration. A few months ago, you weren’t feeling the same things you’re feeling now. The doctor told you it was from the stress, and you can’t argue that.

For now, you’ll continue eating as much as possible, and if Finnick comments on the weight--which you don’t think he will--then you’ll tell him it’s because of the food that you’re eating. It’s logical, he knows that it is, so he’ll likely brush it off after that.

You take another look in the bathroom mirror, lifting up the tank top to take a look at your stomach again. It’s a slight different, but it’s there. At first glance, you would easily look over it as if it’s not there. You’re lucky that you’re only three months. If it were any more, then it would be obvious.

You drop the fabric and pull your hair out of your face. When you’re satisfied with the look, you go ahead and leave the bathroom. You told Finnick to go ahead of you almost an hour ago because there were some things you needed to take care of. When in reality you didn’t want him looking at the medication that you’re taking.

Finnick has scrolled through the medication pages and their uses in the betting room plenty of times. By now, he’s got to have the names as memorized as you do. Even if some of them are mixtures, there’s no way that he hasn’t got them down by now. Or at least he’d recognize the name and drive himself crazy, trying to figure out the use for it again.

You leave the apartment barefoot again. You want to opt for the staircase, because it feels good to be able to move around without feeling dizzy again. But you see no harm in the elevator. You punch the button and wait patiently for the doors to open.

It’s at least a minute before the doors emmit the noise, and they open. As soon as they crack open, you can see that it’s not empty, but it’s not full either. You’re happy to see that it’s the District Twelve crew all together. Including their district rep.

“Mind if I step in?” you ask.

“Go ahead.” Peeta motions, you move in, and take a look at the buttons to make sure they’ve got the training center button pressed.

After that, you sort of just press yourself against the bars, crossing your arms. You look over the rep, trying to recall a name, but when you can’t, you shrug it off slightly. She’s not really any of your business anyway.

“You’re missing shoes.” she tells you.

“I realize.” you smile, “I’ve got blisters on the back of my feet because I pissed off my prep team, casual me.”

Haymitch laughs first, “Yeah? What’d you say to Laurel?”

“Some comments about her age and complexion, all in good fun of course.”

The doors open up again, and Haymitch lets you know that this is their stop. Him and the district rep step off, and suddenly you’re left alone in the elevator with Katniss and Peeta.

“No Finnick?” Peeta asks.

You raise your eyebrows, you haven’t actually held a conversation with Peeta yet. You know that Haymitch said that Katniss was difficult, and not necessarily Peeta. But you wonder how that can be if they’re together. Sometimes opposites attract. Most of the time, you stick to someone close to you in personality though.

If you can’t beat them, join them.

“He’s training already,” you tilt your head a little bit, “Told him to go ahead of me. I had a few things to take care of.”

“Feeling better?” Katniss asks.

You nod, “I should be in tip top shape by the time the games do roll around.”

It’s a lie, but they can’t call you on it. They have no clue what’s going on behind closed doors. It could be your downfall, or it could be the exact blockage you need to make sure you’re not vulnerable.

The elevator doors open, and you’re the first to step out.

“I heard you wouldn’t mind being an ally…?” you’re not sure if it’s a statement or a question.

Since you’re in front, you glance at them over your shoulder slightly to see their faces to decipher it better. Peeta is obviously curious, he wants to know why probably. As for Katniss, she’s interested but she’s trying not to show it. She can hide her emotions well, but not good enough.

You shrug your shoulders slightly, “I’m sure there’s a lot of people that wouldn’t mind being partnered with you two.”

“Thanks to Katniss.”

This part you haven’t heard, you slow down somewhat, which is an indication for Peeta to keep going. Katniss doesn't look too thrilled that he’s pursuing this conversation. She doesn’t like to be shown off it seems. Let people know of the skills she has, which is smart.

Except for the fact that everyone here has shown off their skills one time or another. Everyone has their part for what they’re known for. Especially with Beetee, Johanna, Katniss and Peeta. As well as yourself, Finnick, Enobaria and you’re sure there’s more. Some people are known for less important reasons, like Gloss and Cashmere for being back-to-back sibling wins.

“Everyone had watched her shoot yesterday. Even the careers.” Peeta sounds somewhat ecstatic.

You shake your head, “Don’t get too excited about the careers. They backstab, it’s who they are.”

The doors to the training center open. It turns a few heads, one of them mainly being Finnick. He’s standing over by the throwing area, holding a spear in his hand. Then, he turns back to the hologram and throws the final one.

After that, he hops off and starts his way over to you, “Honey!”

You laugh, “Hey, Finn.”

You hug him, and he spins you around slightly. He kisses your forehead, and then pulls away, looking at Katniss and Peeta, “Ah, got some private time in?”

The punch to his arm is hard. Finnick laughs, rubbing the spot, “Ran into them in the elevator, is all.”

“Same thing.” He tells you, again looking at Katniss and Peeta, “We’ll see you two later.”

“Yeah.” Peeta waves, you take Finnick’s arm and pull him away, towards the holo stations.

He sees your eagerness, but he’s not forgiving of what has happened yesterday, “I take it you’re feeling better?”

“The medicine that I have been prescribed has gotten rid of everything so far.” You smile, “I thought it wouldn’t hurt to train some.”

“That’s not taking it easy.”

You look at Finnick, “I know you weren’t there, but the doctor said nothing about that.”

He squints at you, trying to read your face easier. For this, you give him a bigger, brighter smile as you skip up to the platform. If he can’t get a look at your face, he can’t find that you’re hiding something.

“What else did the doctor say?” He asks, waiting at the bottom of the steps.

You program the game, setting it to two people. And since you’re a little too eager to throw spears again, you select that too. The difficulty is pretty easy since you’re also unsure on how they’ll be able to go through the air.

“Well, since I am ill, they had to report it to Snow and the gamemakers.”

There’s an audible inhale from him, and you look over to see his eyes widened. He’s clenching his teeth. The look on his face is a mix of things. Confusion, betrayal, anger, shock and surprise.

“Why?”

You shrug slightly, “It could affect how the games go. I didn’t have a say in it or anything, she reported it before I even knew. And there’s more to it, too.”

He moves forward, coming up the steps when you hold out a trident for him to hold. Finnick weighs it in his hand, eyes still locked on your face until you give the last bit of information.

“Snow has decided to be generous and he’s going to—“ you drop your voice a little quieter, “—allow me to take the medication the morning that the games start. Laugh like I said something funny.”

He does this easily, the intensity that was there before is gone, and he looks carefree. When Finnick turns his back to everyone else though, he doesn’t look like that anymore. You wish you could have your old Finnick back. Before he was worrying over you.

You wish you could go back to yesterday, when you didn't know this information. Convinced yourself not to see the doctor, and just take it easy instead. No one would be involved.

You’re always at a disadvantage. And this is especially the case, since whatever the gamemakers decide to do, you have to take. You have no word on what will happen.

“That’s not good, (Y/n).” He says, he looks grave.

“I know.” You tell him, starting the holo game, “Believe me, I’m the one that’s paying the most.”

“Maybe after a couple of days, you can just stop taking the meds. I feel like they aren’t… good for you.”

The words blurt from your mouth without a single thought put to them, “I can’t.”

Finnick pauses for a moment, missing his turn to throw. You do it for him, quickly grabbing another to get yours too. After this, he picks up his pattern again, “Why not?”

You laugh slightly, “The doctor told me not to.”

“Since when do you listen to the Capitol?” he asks.

Maybe you are a bad liar after all. Because you never listen to the Capitol, you always do things your way. If you don’t want to take the medication, then you won’t. Or you’ll take half-doses. You’ll never follow what the Capitol has to say directly, because they don’t understand.

Lame excuse but, “Because this is medical.”

“You’re sick, a passing--”

You look at Finnick, “Finn, they had to tell the gamemakers. Which means two things. One, it isn’t your typical regular cold, or two they’re worried that I won’t be healthy by the end of the week.”

He’s quiet for a moment. When the final hologram disintegrates into blocks, he places the extra trident back into the holder, “Look at me.”

You turn, slightly confused, “What?”

“Are you actually sick?”

You can’t hesitate, “Yes, Finnick. You saw it for yourself, what is this about?”

He squints at your face, “What’s the meds that they’re giving you?”

You shrug, “Some antibiotic.”

“Then you won’t mind me looking at the bottle to see if we could cut the doses?” He asks.

He’s trying to catch you, he has an inkling that you’re lying. Bad news for him, the bottle is hidden, he won’t find it. You took the extra mile just in case he were to do something like this.

Finnick hunts for secrets, and secrets hide behind lies.

“Go ahead.” you tell him, “But I’m not cutting doses.”

Finnick scowls, “What if it’s addictive?”

“It’s not.” you finally snap at him, “You wanted me to see the doctor yesterday, and now that I have, and I’ve gotten the proper meds from it, you’re against it. What’s with you?”

He lowers his voice, “No one goes from bad to good as fast as you did.”

“Finnick, it’s a bug, it’ll go away faster.”

His patience has run thin, “What did they do to you? What are you hiding?”

“I’m not hiding anything!” you suddenly shout, you watch as a few people turn their heads towards you guys.

Finnick squints, “Tell me.”

“Tell you what?” you ask, “What do you think I’m hiding?”

You turn back to the settings on the station, hoping that he’ll drop it, but he grabs your hand before you can make any changes. You look at him to see that he’s dead serious. You haven’t seen him like this in a very, very long time.

It’s not often that you push Finnick past his limits. He’s a very patient person, and he’d rather talk about it than get mad. But since you’re refusing to talk, and he thinks--he doesn’t know just yet--that you’re hiding something, it’s getting on his nerves. You never keep things from him, and it’s the same way around.

“Don’t make me see the doctor.”

“Is that a threat?” you ask him, yanking your wrist from his hand. You even stand up a little taller, because he’s not going to intimidate you.

“She’ll tell me.”

You shake your head, “She can’t tell you anything because it’s confidential. I told you what you need to know.”

“What about Elysia and Mags?” he asks, “Or Laurel?”

“Haven’t talked to Laurel since the last time I saw her, same goes for Elysia and Mags. Drop it, Finnick.”

“Who else knows, then?”

“No one, Finnick.” you seethe, “Drop it.”’

“You’re unbelievable.” he shakes his head, “What if it concerns me?”

“As of right-fucking-now, it doesn’t.” you tell him, “And it won’t ever concern you, because it’s a fucking cold.”

“It’s a bullshit lie, (Y/n).” Finnick turns, taking the steps, “Don’t talk to me until you come clean.”

You cross your arms, “Then I guess this is goodbye.”

And just like that, you turn back to the settings, turning it to one, changing it to throwing knives, and turning up the difficulty. You hate the hormones already. The doctor told you it’ll be high before it drops off, and you hate that she’s right about this.

“Uh oh, trouble in paradise.”

You’re just about to start the training session, but you look over to see who it is anyway. You’re face to face with Gloss, who’s looking smug.

“Go away, monkey.” He doesn’t budge, and you sigh, “What do you want?”

He smiles, “It’s never too late to start an alliance with us.”

“I literally told you and your sister off yesterday, did you not learn from that?”

Gloss laughs, “You’ve said and done worse to us.”

You tilt your head, taking this into consideration. He’s not wrong, “Doesn’t mean I want an alliance, I’ve already got one.”

“With Finnick? Be reasonable, that just went to shit.”

“He’s my husband, he’ll fall through.” you squint at him, “I don’t know why you’re asking me, when there’s literally anyone else you can choose from.”

“Careers got to stick together, right?”

“I told you yesterday that everyone in here is a career.”

He laughs again, “You think Woof is a career? What about Beetee and Wiress? They don’t know how to fight, not like us. They don’t have a chance at winning.”

“Bullshit,” you tell him, “They won the first time around.”

“Have you seen the mental state of Wiress?”

You roll your eyes, you’re not interested in this conversation. They’re stuck up and overly confident as usual, there would be no point in joining them. They pose as much as a threat as everyone else does. The chances of them getting their hands on you as fast as possible is likely. They’ll try to hunt you down on the first day.

The only thing you’ll get out of an alliance like this, is not being in their path. You’ll be able to hunt with them rather than against them. Hell, you might even be able to convince them to steer clear of a few people. Like, redirect their path…

Lightbulb!

You look to Gloss, and there’s a clear change on your face, because he stands up a little more, “What do I get out of this?”

He smiles, “Well, the only thing you’re probably interested in is for Finnick, right? Well, we spare him for you, if that time has to come. If you die early… there really wouldn’t be a reason to save him anymore.”

“Good enough for me.” you stick your hand out, “Shake on it.”

Gloss tilts his head curiously, but he goes ahead and does it, “Welcome in.”

“Don’t expect me to spend time around you guys.” you tell him once he releases your hand, “I’ll strategize with you guys a few days from now.”

“Before the interview, I’m sure.” he nods, “I’ll let the others know.”

Gloss then heads down the steps, away from you. Your eyes drag along the room to see who else has just seen the exchange, and it’s no surprise that Finnick and Johanna have their eyes on you. Finnick’s mouth is hanging open a little bit, clearly he didn’t expect you to turn around and do this. Not even five minutes after the end of the fight.

You turn to the station, looking at what you had just programmed. Then, you press cancel, turning everything off. You head down the steps calmly, even though it feels like a thousand pumps of adrenaline is running through to you. One glance at your new alliance and you see that they’re already smiling.

Cashmere waves, you do the same.

It takes all your power not to say anything to anyone on your way out. You wait until you’re outside of the room, the doors are shut, and you’re the only one in the long corridor besides the peacekeepers.

And then you let out a long breath of air. You continue your way to the elevator, but you’re mostly focused on getting yourself to calm down a bit, because that was a huge betrayal that you just did.

Everything right now has to change. Everything that you had been planning originally is out the window.

You press the button to open the doors, and they open pretty quickly. You step inside, press the next button that will take you to the floor where the prep teams are going to be.

“This is a smart decision.” you tell yourself, taking deep breaths, “You’re doing this for everyone, even if they can’t see it.”

The doors open, and you hold your head a little higher as you walk out. It won’t be far down the hall, since you’re District Four. You count the doors as they come, and you don’t knock when you come to your stylist’s room.

Inside stands Elysia, Pleurisy, Laurel and Mags.

Pleurisy jumps slightly, “You can’t be in here!”

Ignoring her, you step into the room and shut the door behind you. You still don’t get a chance to speak just yet, though.

“It’s good timing, actually,” Elysia starts, “We have a question to ask anyway.”

You nod, thinking they can get this out before you completely crush everything in one foul swoop.

“For the Quarter Quell, Caesar has suggested that we double up on the interviews,” Elysia comes a little closer, “For example, you and Finnick could be on stage at the same time, if you want.”

“No.” you tell her, “That can’t happen.”

Laurel squints, “Why not?”

There’s no turning back now, “Finnick and I aren’t in an alliance anymore. Which means that I don’t want matching outfits, and I don’t want to be associated with him.”

Mags face twists, and even though the words are hoarse, she shouts, “What did you do?!”

“I’m with the careers.” you tell her.

They’re all hesitant now, they have no idea where this is coming from. This is out of the blue for them. They don’t even know you had seen a doctor yesterday.

You have catching up to do, you suppose.

“Finnick and I had a disagreement, I went to the doctor yesterday because I wasn’t feeling well. The doctor had to report it to the gamemakers and Snow. Finnick thinks that there’s something wrong with the medication, but there is nothing,” you shift your feet slightly, “We fought about it and then he told me to not talk to him until I come clean. Unfortunately, that means I’m not talking to him for a very long time.

“And there’s no point in being in an alliance with him and everyone else if there is going to be no communication. So, I joined the careers because I want a chance at winning.” you swirl your hand in the air, “And he can’t give me that anymore.”

Laurel looks annoyed, “Did this just happen? Don’t you think you should think things through more?”

“Are you still married?” Elysia asks.

“Still married, just happened, and the decision is final. Change the outfit, I don’t want matching colors, styles, nothing. Don’t put us on stage together.”

“Does Finnick know about this?” Pleurisy asks.

“He knows about the alliance, I assume. I haven’t told him directly just yet, because I can’t talk to him. So pass on whatever information you please.” you shrug, “Create a rumor, for all I fuckin’ care.”

Then, you go ahead and leave the room. The door shuts, you check both ways, and it’s perfect timing. Haymitch is heading down the hall.

“You and I need to talk.” you tell him, he raises his eyebrows, “Now.”

“Okay…?”

He follows you into the stairwell. You don’t stop to talk, instead you start going up, and he catches on pretty quickly. You walk a little heavier, making sure to stop your feet a little louder.

“I’m joining the careers.” you tell him as quietly as you can manage, “Everyone in the center knows this.”

Haymitch pauses for a moment, “Why would--”

“Because I’m planning on redirecting the careers during the games.” you tell him, pausing too, “This stays between me, you, and Plutarch. No one else needs to know this, not even Finnick. He thinks I’m mad at him, and it needs to stay this way. If he tells you that I’m with the careers, play along.”

“You know this means that you’ll be forced to kill your friends, right?” he asks, “Chaff, Seeder, Woof, Cecelia…”

You stomp your foot loudly, emitting an echo, “You want this rebellion to happen? I’m sacrificing everything I have right now. My friends, my marriage, and my family. I’m all in, all I’m asking is for you to not get cold feet.”

He nods, “And what happens when you’re not where you need to be to get out?”

You look at the ground for a moment, “That’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.”

-- Chapter Six --

The day you two fought, was the first time you had slept alone in five years.

You can’t say that you slept that night, in fact you can confidently say you didn’t at all, because you were busy making a bigger and better plan on how to get the careers to trust you. It wasn’t easy, because they were convinced that you would pass on all this information to Finnick, but just by your body language, they could see that you weren’t lying.

Finnick has not said a word to you, like he promised. But that doesn’t mean he hasn’t been talking to Elysia and Mags. They told you last night at dinner--after you had showed up nearly two hours late--that they passed on what you said. Which had explained the yelling, and the crashing noises before and during your dinner.

He still stares at you when you come into rooms. Almost like he’s waiting for you to turn to him and tell him that it’s all just an elaborate joke. Then his face will get sad and he’ll look everywhere but you for a while. He doesn’t want to swallow it, and you trust that he won’t.

The thing is, to him this looks like this is so easy to you. Like you’ve been waiting for a way to get out of the alliance in the first place and do this. He has to be thinking that you didn’t want to be in it, but you had agreed for his sake or something. Finnick can see your poker face, and he can see how content you are.

He can see that it was easy to let Elysia and Mags pass on the news. That you not only turned down the chance to appear on stage together, but you had messed up the coordinating outfits. Especially after it was your idea in the first place, to look like you two go together. Instead, you told Laurel to make it prettier, shinier, something a career would wear.

You’re blending, and you’re going to do it well. You thought that you wouldn’t ever be able to pretend again, since everyone knew your tricks from your first game. But you’re not playing damsel, you’re playing the betrayer. You’re leaving behind everything that you had made just to join the careers. And the best part, is that they’re all believing it.

You haven’t talked to anyone outside of the careers since. Katniss and Peeta stare as if they can’t believe you told them not to team up with the careers, only to go ahead and join them. Like you were pushing them away for your own agenda--but you’re glad you did that anyway.

Cecelia has tried to talk to you to see what’s up, but you brush her off. You know that it’s sad to know that this is how your best friend will remember you, a stone cold bitch only looking out for herself. As for Johanna… she nearly fucking tripped you while you were walking by her.

You’re quick on your feet, but that could have ended badly for several reasons. The first one being, you’re still pregnant, whether you like it or not. You still have to look out for yourself. No one else knows that you are, so they can’t be extra careful around you and knock off the behaviors. They’ll see it as a ‘boohoo’ sort of thing. You don’t need pity, you need power.

You hope that Finnick will be able to forgive you. You hope that if Finnick makes it out of the arena, and you don’t, that Haymitch will tell him everything. That you were doing this for him, for everyone as you always are. You’re selfish for the right reasons, and he should never believe that you would do something like this.

In that case, you should probably tell Haymitch that you’re pregnant too. But you might end up saving that for the very last minute. Like morning-of-games last minute, because it’s not something you want him to be taking into consideration all hours of the day.

You look over yourself in the mirror for a final time, pulling your hair into a ponytail while you’re at it. Today is the private training session with the gamemakers. And unlike everyone else, you’ll be trying extra hard to impress them. Since you’re already assuming that your score is going to be pretty low.

You think that they’re going to think that you’re weak from the pregnancy either way, and so whatever you do, you’ll just be impressing them a tiny bit. But doing trick shots is better than not doing anything at all. You’ve got a couple of things down your sleeve as usual.

You leave the bathroom, being sure to bounce on your feet a bit more because of the shoes. You started wearing them again today, you’ve been walking around with them all morning to break them in. They’re still a little tight, not quite shaped to your feet--you’re sure that they would have been had you been wearing them all this time.

Finnick is sitting on the arm of the couch, staring at the tv. It’s Caesar, talking about how today is the training sessions and the time in which you guys should come back to see the scores. Or rather, the time everyone back home and the Capitol should tune in. You could always sit down too out of curiosity’s sake, but it’s not required. You could play it as a mystery.

Typically, the scores are used among the tributes to figure out who’s the most deadly. It’s like putting a target on your back. When you had gone in the first time, and gotten a ten, it was good for sponsors, but on the other hand, the other tributes either had to steer clear or make you an immediate death. It might have been what secured your stance in the alliance back then.

But now, it’s just for the sponsors. You know personally that you have never gone after anyone based on their scores, and you don’t plan on starting either.

“She’s here,” Elysia tells him.

Without a word, he gets up from where he’s sitting. Though, he does sigh as if he’s unhappy with it. You’re sure that he would have preferred to show up earlier, and without you if it was possible. But the two of you need to show up at the same time so you’re not holding back everyone.

“See you later,” you wave to Elysia.

“Score high!” She says cheerfully, but her face is dead serious. She holds up her left hand, and uses the right to tap on her left ring finger.

It doesn’t take a genius to know what that means.

Your eyes go to Finnick, already ahead of you. You nod at Elysia, mouthing a ‘thank you’ and then you follow behind Finnick. Once you’re out the door, you’re tempted to break off and go down the staircase, but you remind yourself that you show up together.

You press your lips tightly together once you’re inside of the elevator, biting back the tears from the idea that he isn’t wearing his wedding band. Not talking to him and joining the careers is one thing, but taking off the wedding ring is another.

The doors open, Finnick goes first and you let him so you have time to wipe away the stray tears. You pinch the sensitive skin on your forearm as you walk. It’s enough of a distraction, and the tears stop immediately. A second later, you’re stone faced.

The lady outside the room takes note of your presence and then allows you to go inside. You’re not the first to arrive, but not the last. There’s plenty that still need to arrive.

Finnick sits on the inner seat as required, and you sit on the outer. You find yourself fidgeting with your mothers ring as you absently stare at the wall. You haven’t even noticed that Cashmere is calling your name, until she pats your knee slightly.

“Are you okay?” she asks, even when you do focus, she seems so far away.

“Out of it,” you tell her, “I think I’m getting sick again.”

You do feel nauseous, but that could always be because you’re nervous and you ate too much this morning. You were hungrier than usual, and by the way Elysia was staring, you were clearly eating more than usual. You couldn’t help it really, your stomach felt like a bottomless pit, and even now, you’re still kinda hungry.

No, you feel lightheaded and dizzy and disassociated.

It has to be because you’re ruining everything around you all for something that might not work. You’re putting everything you have on the line for a rebellion that two districts for sure, won’t back up. You’re having a huge milestone right now, and the worst thing about it, is that your husband doesn’t even know.

Finnick has always been so excited at the mention of a baby. You and him wanted to wait for a while to get settled. And before the games had been announced in the winter, you had brought up the talk of a baby. He was ecstatic and encouraged it. But then the games were announced and you had to stop all together.

Everything you’re doing has suddenly become ten times harder because it’s changing Finnick.

Finnick glances at you, almost as if he’s reading your mind. It has to be from the sick comment.

“Do I need to get someone?” she asks.

“I’m fine,” you tell her softly, “Thank you, though.”

She drops it. The moment that Enobaria and Brutus arrive, she launches into conversation with them. You listen to it as best as you can since there isn’t anything else to do. Occasionally, you’ll pull off your wedding ring and stare at it. As if it’s suddenly lost all meaning. But thinking about it that way makes your throat tighten and then you’re putting it back on again.

It’s almost a relief when they start calling names, starting with Gloss. You wish him good luck, and he’ll thank you. A few minutes later, he comes back, wishes you guys luck, and the process repeats with Cashmere, Brutus and Enobaria.

Soon, you’re sitting in a room surrounded by enemies. You keep your eyes forward, trying to calm yourself down before you hyperventilate. To distract yourself, you think about Blaire, and Cas and Mac. You think about how your fellow tributes back then had told you, that you were so damn lucky to have him.

You swallow thickly.

“District Four, Finnick Odair--”

You move out of the way for him, closing your eyes as he brushes past you. You don’t open your eyes until the doors are shut, and even then you have to close them. You lean forward, hiding your face in your hands for a moment.

You’re so ridiculous. You’re so stupid for thinking you’d be able to do this without breaking down at least once. Now that the barrier has broken, you can expect another one as soon as you get back to the apartment.

It’s sickeningly quiet inside of the room. A few people talk to each other, but it’s very hushed. They don’t bother to go above a whisper to not disturb anyone around them. Eventually, you raise your head again, out of your hands.

You hum to yourself quietly, needing some type of distraction. It’s almost a relief when the automated voice comes over again.

“District Four, (Y/n) Gallows--”

You stand, moving around where you had been sitting, and start towards the doors. They open, revealing Finnick on the other side. You don’t even look at his face, knowing how awful you must look right now. The doors shut behind you soon, and then you’re left with the gamemakers.

Silently, you make your way over to the throwing range. On the way, you hoist up a dummy in one arm, and bright purple pain in the other. Once you get past the twenty feet, you drop the doll, use the paint for targets on the forehead and chest, and then make your way away from it.

They have a little moving cart with things on them. Like the paint, with brushes, some rope, all sorts of shit. You take a moment, digging through it, and you’re stumped for a moment. Kinda mad that there isn’t anything to be used as a blindfold.

Then, you decide that your time is short in here, so you rip your tank top--which fills the still air painfully--and move on. You then grab the two machetes that are offered. You’ve only practiced this move with knives, but you’re sure you can pull this off either way.

You then look to the gamemakers, “Ready?”

A few nod, others motion for you to get it on with.

You line yourself up properly, memorizing the way it looks, then you pull on the blindfold, which surprisingly works better than you thought it would. You take in a deep breath to steady yourself, prepare the machetes.

Then, banking on luck, you throw the both of them.

Once you hear the thumps from the dummy, a few people even gasp and start clapping before you’ve even pulled off your blindfold.

And to your surprise, you’ve managed to not only get the chest, but the forehead too, which wasn’t marked at all. Masking this up, you smile at yourself proudly, and even pick up a few knives for fun.

Not throwing all four at once, you throw them one at a time quickly, alternating between the head and the chest. But on the very last one, you get the crotch perfectly. You dust off your hands slightly, turning to the gamemakers.

“You’re dismissed,” one of them tells you.

“Thanks.” you bounce slightly, heading for the door. This is when they play the automated message again, letting the guy of District Five know that he can head inside.

Unsurprisingly, that felt fantastic to do.

You bounce your way through the waiting room, knowing that eyes are following you on your way out. The next set of doors open, allowing you to leave, and then you start your way to the staircase. It’s a long way to run back up the staircase, but you’ve got the adrenaline pumping anyway.

It feels nice to exercise again, it’s stretching your legs more. Since you’ve put on all this weight, it’s been harder, but it doesn’t mean that it’s stopped being nice to do. You’ve definitely lost some of the pounds that you gained from training so hard inside of the training center, but it’s all the same.

Before you know it, you’ve gone up the four flights. Once the door is open, you can see into the hallway, which means that you can also see that Finnick is standing there with Pleurisy. She peeks around him curiously from the door opening, but at the sight of you, she goes back to Finnick.

She favors him, because he’s her boy, y’know? Just like how Laurel favors you, because you’re her girl. You know Laurel better, and Finnick knows Pleurisy better.

You don’t say anything to either of them, heading inside of the apartment. You slam the door a little harder than you mean to. Because of this, you can see Laurel and your entire prep team jerk their heads in your direction.

“My bad.” you admit, “What’s this about?”

“Your scores, mostly.” Laurel says, when you go up the steps you can see that Elysia and Mags are here too, “Which will be airing later.”

“What’s the other part of it?” you ask, crossing your arms.

Laurel doesn’t hold anything back, “Finnick has decided to change his district token.”

You don’t know if you’re supposed to act surprised, Elysia had already warned you earlier, “Okay, and?”

Mags holds out her hand, which has Finnick’s ring in the middle. You take it from her, pinching it between two fingers.

“He’s forfeited the ring.” Cleo tells you nervously, “He doesn’t want it anymore.”

You laugh too, “And what am I supposed to do with it? Is this his way of divorcing me?” It’s silent in the room, and you quirk an eyebrow, “You’re kidding.”

“He didn’t necessarily say that.” Elysia defends, “He just said that he won’t be needing it.”

You look down at it, “Guys, I can’t take it into the games with me.”

The door opens behind you, a few eyes look past you, but they quickly land on you again.

“You could always fuse it with your own…” Beth suggests quietly.

With those words, you want to crush the ring in your hand, “I’m not melting my mother's ring to this. He’s the one forfeiting it.”

You turn suddenly, seeing Finnick going to his room, “Hey, jackass!”

“(Y/n)--” Laurel warns.

Finnick doesn’t stop, so you follow behind him, “You call me unbelievable when you’re handing me the fucking ring back without saying a goddamn word to me! Are you suddenly incapable of telling me this is over?”

Nothing.

“I know why the token changed.” you tell him, because you do.

It’s probably the thing with the alliance. Haymitch said that he was going to give you two something anyway, so that’s not what you’re mad about. You’re mad that the words ‘forfeiting’ and ‘not wanting it anymore’ have just come from the mouths of a couple of Capitol citizens rather than him.

“This is how you want it?” you can feel your eyes begin to water, throat closing in, “You want it like this?”

He stops now, “You’re the one that ended it.”

“How? Those words never came from my mouth.”

Finnick turns towards you, “The second you started keeping secrets, (Y/n)! The second you made an alliance with the careers! You’re not stupid, you’re not blind! You knew what you were doing the second you did that. Don’t act surprised when I’m suddenly uninterested in you.”

“I’m not keeping secrets.” you tell him slowly, “I have never, ever kept secrets from you! Stop accusing me of it! This is your fault! Not mine!”

“You can’t lie to me.” he says, “You can’t. I see through your facade like glass.”

It’s like going in circles, “I can’t do this.”

You go to leave, but then you turn back to Finnick, grabbing his hand harshly and planting the ring in his finger, “If this is over like you want, you’re the one calling quits, not me. Go ahead and get rid of it, I don’t care. It’s yours.”

You let go of him after that, heading to your room. The door opens automatically, and shuts automatically. You lock it, and then you head straight to the shower, locking that door too. You turn the water up too hot, and strip yourself.

You place the ring in a drawer so you don’t have to look at it. Then, you sit in the middle of the shower floor and let the hot water melt your skin.

--

You stand several feet from the couch, arms crossed as you stare at Caesar’s face. He introduces the scores as he does every year, and how they work. He tells you guys that footage won’t be provided later on, since it was private.

Then, he starts with Cashmere first. You’re content with what your fellow careers have gotten, tens and elevens, no lower. There’s no surprise with what they’ve got, you guys have been training pretty hard for the last couple of days. The gamemakers are watching during those times, and it’s partially what makes up the scores.

Wiress and Beetee get eights. Soon enough he’s introducing District Four.

“(Y/n) Gallows, with a score of,” he smiles pleasantly, “Eleven.”

Elysia jumps at the number, “How?”

“That’s all I need to see.” you tell them, turning around and beginning to leave to allow Finnick be out there with them. It was hard to even convince yourself to stand there, even if his back was turned to you and all.

On your way out, you can still hear Caesar, “Finnick Odair, with a score of ten.”

-- Chapter Seven --

You sit at the edge of the bed, head hanging as you stare at the carpeted floor. You can’t bring yourself to get off of the bed. You want to stay here, and not get ready for today. You’d rather just sleep for the rest of your life because it’s not worth it anymore.

You know that you’re still doing this for Finnick, because even if he thinks that you’re over--which is a quick decision to make, when it’s been only two days--you’re still doing this for him. You’ll always be doing this for him, whether you like it or not. Because the love of your life, and sometimes you have to make sacrifices.

Even if you wanted to, you can’t tell Finnick what you’re doing. It’s too late to change anything, and if he did get rid of the ring like you told him to last night, then it’s going to make him either incredibly guilty or mad. You’re impressed that he’s figured you out so quickly, but that doesn’t mean you’re happy about it.

If you were to ever tell him, it would be a whole list of things. The first is that everything you’ve done so far is for him. The second is that you’re pregnant, and the pills are the only thing that’s keeping you from feeling all those effects. If you weren’t taking the meds, then you would be so sluggish and you’d weigh them down, which is just another reason why you can’t be with him in the arena.

Supposedly, you two were supposed to act like guard dogs for Katniss and Peeta. Johanna was going to round up everyone else Katniss had wanted an alliance with, which was originally you, Beetee and Wiress. Now that you’re out of the picture though, Finnick is going to have to corral them without you.

With the careers, they’ll be able to protect you. They’re smart, they’ve got high scores. They’re going to expect you to be able to do everything on your own, but the reality of the situation is that you were all show inside of that private session. There is absolutely no way you’ll be able to pull off anything nearly as impressive like you did in there.

Anyway, the third secret is that you’re going to be redirecting the careers. You’re going to try and convince them to go after the nobody’s like the morphlings, and the outsider districts. Say that you guys should save the alliance going on with Finnick, Katniss and Peeta a moment to simmer.

You need to settle in on the first day anyway, get used to your surroundings before doing anything drastic like trying to wipe out the stronger tributes. You all have to get used to killing the people around you again, which is easier said than done. You’re about to kill people that have done absolutely nothing to you, and you even made a friend out of them at some point.

There’s a couple of knocks at the door, and then it slides open to reveal Elysia. She’s a little apprehensive at the start, until you look up at her. You must look so tired, because her face twists as she hurries over to you.

“Did you even sleep?”

“No.” you tell her, “It’s not everyday you tell your spouse to throw away a ring.”

You get out of the bed now, not bothering to stretch as you drag your feet to the dresser. She doesn’t move from where she was standing, probably staring at you now. Wondering what the hell you’re thinking now, since you’re the one that started all of this. You told them you don’t want to be associated with him.

“Don’t you think you’re taking whatever plan you have, a little too far?” she asks quietly.

“I have to.” you tell her, “It’s not just for me anymore. It’s for everyone.”

“What happened to being selfish?” she asks, “Thinking for yourself?”

“Even if I wanted to, I can’t.” you hold the clothes over your arm, “It’s too late now. I’m going into the arena like this.” Then, you turn to look at her, “This may look like a mess to everyone, but it’s sorted. It’s how I need it to be.”

“Then tell me or Mags, please. We’re the ones getting sponsors for you two. I’ve been telling them that you guys are going to stick together, and now that has changed.” she shakes her head, “What are you planning?”

“Just, trust me.” you tell her, “I know what I’m doing.”

“Look at what it’s done to you.” Elysia motions, “You look like hell.”

You don’t say anything back to that, “I’m going to take a shower and then we can go down to my prep team. Or I can go alone, I don’t care.”

“We should probably go over etiquette again.” She tells you, “How to answer questions and all of that.”

“We can practice that while I’m getting ready.” you tell her, “Since it’ll be hours long. I’m going to take a shower now.”

She nods, leaving the room. You head into the bathroom, stripping and then getting in the shower. You wash it so they won’t have to, and you scrub your skin until it’s red, not really realizing you’re doing it.

When you’re tired of standing there, you get out and dry yourself off. You slip on the tank top and sweatpants that you pulled out for yourself. Trying not to rip the brush through your hair, you stare at the ring absentmindedly, noticing how it reflects the light pretty easily.

Then, you tie all your hair back and out of your face. Not only to keep it from knotting, but because you don’t feel like having it hang in your face. You’ll have all night for that.

Finnick is sitting at the table when you get out there. You take your usual spot, eating slowly, and even stopping yourself before you’re too full. The silence is deafening and it’s driving you a little nuts. So, you get up early, tell Elysia that you’re heading to the prep team and then take your time getting there.

You take the elevator, no staircase today. There’s no one else that steps on, it’s just you all the way down. So, you spend this time asking yourself meaningless questions as if Caesar would be asking them. It’s a fun exercise, especially when you have this ever-growing hatred for the Capitol right now.

Before you know it, you’re being let into the room. No one really says anything, not after last night.

Beth, Cleo and Leo all talk about meaningless things. How excited they are to hear what some of the tributes have to say. They might not have been born for tributes like Woof, Chaff and Seeder, but it’s always thrilling to hear what they have to say anyway. With the technology that the Capitol has,they have the ability to go back and watch some of those games.

Not Woof, or Mags for that matter either, those are the beginning games. Mags was the eleventh or something, right in double digits. Which is pretty old, and understandable to think about. Your ancestors in the districts were still developing styles and the techniques on how to get things to the Capitol.

You bet that by the time the twenty-fifth games came around, they had the ability to film it better. Less fuzzy cameras, more of them maybe. The Capitol is always changing and coming up with better technology. For example, the building that you’re sitting in right now.

It’s a brand new fucking building, run off of exclusively power. And it sucks up so much of it, that some of the holo stations were messing up. A person would disappear for a second, and then reappear. They’d throw their weapon and it wouldn’t show up again, but you still wouldn’t lose the game either.

The Capitol had used up pretty much all of their resources to make a bigger, and safer building for the gamemakers when they watch you guys in their area. They made better apartments, faster elevators, they upped security. All because they could and they had the technological advances. Which is why you were also so paranoid about them listening to you.

If they can hide cameras literally everywhere inside of the arena, with microphones so good that they pick up even the quietest whisper, then what stops them from doing the same inside of this building? They could hear every single conversation that has possibly gone on. And the elevators are the best bet on where the cameras and microphones could be.

They’re not expecting their tributes to go down the fire escape staircase. Never in your life would you expect something like that, so why should they? Those staircases are dirty, the railing dusty. It shows that no one has been in there for a while. Just in case people do run through there, you don’t grab onto the railings to show someone has gone through.

However, when you come out of the staircase at the bottom of the stairs, there’s still two peacekeepers, which defeats the purpose of not holding onto the railing anyway. But still, it’s an extra precaution, just in case you can get that higher standpoint of ‘you have no evidence that I was inside of there’. No fingerprints, but shoe prints. Though, anyone could have ended up making those.

Leo eventually gets on the topic about training scores, which is when they really start to gush. You know only the beginning numbers, and they know that. Which is exactly why they probably started talking about it in the first place. They don’t have the numbers memorized by any means, but they can give you a general idea of what it’s looking like.

The morphlings scored averagely, still in the same range as Wiress and Beetee. If you recall correctly, theirs were eights or nines. You really don’t expect anything better from a bunch of drug addicts, you’re actually kind of surprised that they hadn’t gotten anything lower.

Johanna and Blight had gotten ten’s. Beth says that Johanna should have definitely gotten higher, with the way she won a few years ago. Everyone had been getting ten’s and eleven’s, so it’s hard to believe that Johanna wouldn’t get nearly as high as you did.

District Eight is Woof and Cecelia. Woof scored low, there’s not much he can do anymore. He’ll be an easy target to take out inside of the arena. Probably won’t make it past the first day, as you’ve said before. There’s not a chance for him. As for Cecelia, she got a nine. You can’t say that you didn’t see that coming either.

District Nine and Ten between them only have one ten, and it’s the guy from nine. After that, it’s nines and eights. Chaff and Seeder get tens, and then finally, it’s District Twelve.

“They both got twelve.” Cleo scoffs, “Twelve! I can understand Katniss, but Peeta? Be realistic, they must have bribed them or something.”

Twelves.

“Peeta hardly looks like an eleven.” Beth laughs quietly, pausing from doing your nails for a moment, looking at you, “Don’t you think, (Y/n)? I mean, you have spoken with him, right?”

You nod slightly, trying to recall any sort of memory of him training inside of the center. But you can’t, he spent most of his time going from station to station learning skills. There had probably been at least once or twice he was doing something, but you never saw it.

“A ten would seem right on him,” you tell them, “Maybe even lower.”

Leo sighs, “Weak, I knew it.”

They go back to chatting after that, hopping from topic to topic. You stopped paying attention after the numbers that everyone had gotten, mostly stuck on why they had both gotten twelve’s like they did. Katniss is understandable, she’s very capable with a bow, but you wonder what happens when you take that away. What else can she use?

As for Peeta, you have no idea what his specialty is. Everyone in the arena is going to have something, so what’s his going to be? You have spears, Finnick has tridents, Johanna and Blight have axes. The careers have knives and swords, Katniss has her bow. But what will he have?

The only time you have even seen him wield a weapon was when you were watching their hunger games, and that was a sword. That was when he was still going around with the careers, and even then the sword wasn’t his. It really belonged to the boy from District One.

Peeta has to be completely incapable of knowing how to fight. It’s always been Katniss that was killing people, Peeta doesn’t have a goddamn number on him, you think. Which is nuts. How do you go the whole hunger games without killing someone? Not even one person? There’s no way you could have done it.

There’s only one real reason why both Katniss and Peeta have gotten the highest number possible. The gamemakers or Snow have rigged it again. It’s not for sponsors, it’s so the other tributes will take it as a threat and head after them first. But with that logic, at least half of the arena will be targeted in this way. Your head has a bounty on it, just the same as everyone else.

Although, it is no secret that Snow isn’t happy with Katniss and Peeta. It’s why the whole rebellion is being planned in the first place, right? Because Katniss has riled up Panem, and she’s ready to wipe the fuck out of the Capitol. Of course, as you’re sure you’ve said earlier, it will be no easy thing to do. The Capitol won’t sit and take it.

Sometime after your nails are finished and Leo has started on your makeup, Laurel and Elysia show up. Elysia tells you that Mags has decided to sit with Finnick instead. You can’t help but to be a little irritated over this, but you can imagine that Elysia has mentioned what you said this morning, about how it’s a plan you can’t just stop on.

You hope that Mags isn’t passing that information back to Finnick too. You need him to stay mad at you, so he does not want to come and try to find you during the games. You want him to stay with the others, and you want him to keep them as far away from the careers as possible.

The only way to keep this going, is if you stick to your plan by having the careers on reigns, and not telling him this. Knowing Finnick, if he had been let in on this plan, he would want you to try to come and find him or vice versa. If you guys are split up inside of the arena, then that means any cannon could belong to you or him.

He still cares about you, there’s no doubt about that. Finnick probably didn’t take any pleasure in forfeiting the ring in the first place and saying that he ‘didn’t want it anymore’. Finnick has been nothing but loving these past couple of years, and this is the first time you two have really fought. You never shout at each other, and sleep in different beds.

There’s a difference between a disagreement, and a fight. Disagreements was like when you volunteered to be here. It’s not something he liked, but he could get past that. But you joining the careers in an alliance and turning your back on literally everyone, now that is a fight.

You always knew that Mags secretly favored Finnick more than you.

“Why did you volunteer?” Elysia asks, almost trying to mimic Caesar.

You’re standing now as your prep team finishes the last few things. Elysia heard that there will be no sitting this year, and it’s all standing. So, you’ll be standing for nearly an hour behind the tributes getting interviewed. Because of this, the heels you’re wearing aren’t sky high, but they aren’t too short either.

You flash a smile, “I originally had done it because I believed that Finnick had needed my help with the games,” and then you tilt your head off to the right, “But now I believe I did it because I want to win.”

Elysia doesn’t like that answer and you can even see Laurel pause in the mirror. You think they’re about to leave it be, but Laurel shakes her head, “Change that answer.”

“It’s my opinion--”

“It’s fake.” Laurel squints at you, “You don’t actually believe that.”

“You want me to go on stage and say what I’m actually thinking?” you ask her, “No one will want to hear it, and all the sponsors that are left, are suddenly gone. I’m not going to produce some fucking sob story, but the games will never be cancelled. And none of them deserve one anyway.”

It’s silent in the room now, Elysia has given up on the questions and she eventually leaves too. The prep team finishes up everything, and soon enough you’re being brought to step into the dress. Not a single word comes from any of them as you step into the blue dress, something that is very similar to what you wore your first time.

The dress is beautiful as always. It’s the same color blue from the first dress you wore. And it’s also floor-length, which means that you’ll be having to pick up the front in order not to step on it. When you look at yourself in the mirror, you’re proud of what Laurel was able to make on such short notice.

“Thank you.” you tell them, catching the prep team’s notice, “You guys will never understand how much I appreciate you guys. You have been here since the beginning, especially when I’ve been difficult.” and then you turn to look at them, “I love you guys, seriously.”

Cleo sniffs, and tries to wipe underneath her eye, but it doesn’t work. Beth hugs you very gently, as well as Leo to try and not ruin anything that they’ve just finished. When they’re done, Laurel looks over you, “I don’t have to say goodbye just yet, I have tomorrow.”

You laugh, and she smiles, “I guess it’s time for me to leave?”

“Oh!” Cleo says, “Energy shot, from Elysia.”

Cleo hands it over, and you take it immediately. You might not look tired anymore, but you still feel like you’ve just risen from the dead, even all these hours later. Thankfully, Elysia has your back no matter what as usual.

Leo opens the door for you, and you leave the hallway and start your way to where the stage is going to be. It’s not right around the corner anymore, you have to go quite a ways before you finally get there.

You hold up the dress in the front, but you’re acutely aware that the back of the dress is dragging against the floor. You trust that the floor is clean, because you don’t want to suddenly have the dress gathered in your arms, afraid that it’ll ruin the natural flow of the wrinkles.

The interviews have started already, and you know this because at one of the corners, there’s a tv with Cashmere and Gloss on the screen. Cashmere is fake crying, as Gloss is trying to raise some reaction from the crowd as well. Somewhere around the corner, you can hear someone crying as if it means something to them. It has to be a Capitol citizen, likely a prep team.

The sound of boots throw you off, and you turn to see where they’re coming from, and it’s behind you. You should have minded your own business, because now you’re staring straight at Finnick. Once you realize, you cross your arms, letting go of the dress as you stare at the screen.

He stops beside you. From the glance you got, the both of you have two very different styles going on. You’re in this dress, it’s garish and long, and very beautiful. Laurel calls it the ‘goddess’ style. It makes you look wealthy, but not in the Capitol terms. Your skin may not be dyed blue, and your hair isn’t crazy colors, but you still look like you run something important in the Capitol.

You look like a darling, as you always will be.

As for Finnick, he’s got a buttoned down white shirt that’s tucked into a light blue-green pair of poofy pants, and of course then there’s the black boots. He has some necklaces hanging around his neck, but that’s about it.

They definitely did it, and they did it very well.

It’s quiet between you two for a while as you watch what happens during the interview. And then he speaks, “You know, it’s not too late to appear on stage together.”

“It is.” you say, “And it’s not like I would want to do it anyway.”

He looks at you, “Why are you being like this? Why have you suddenly decided that you want nothing to do with me?”

“I thought you weren’t going to speak to me.” you remind him bitterly, “How are we supposed to have an alliance with no communication?”

“So you team up with the careers?” he asks, you can see where he’s coming from. It’s a bold move, an overreaction, “What sense does that make?”

You jerk your head at him suddenly, “I’ve always gotten along with them better.”

“You get along with everyone.” he disagrees, “Not just careers, and you know that.”

Gloss and Cashmere are up. Enobaria passes in front of you, and on the way, she gives Finnick a judgemental look. Finnick laughs at that. Behind Enobaria trails Brutus, but he doesn’t follow her onto the stage.

“Let me go on stage with you.” he asks again.

“No, Finnick.” you tell him harshly.

“You don’t want your brothers and sister to see us together a final time? They’ll know something is up--”

You look at him, “You know nothing about what I want, or my motives. So what if they see us apart? We don’t have to be attached at the hip.”

A brief silence, and then, “That’s not what you were saying when we first got here.”

“Things have changed.”

“It didn’t have to,” he insists.

“You’re the one that forced it,” you remind him again, “You’re the one that insisted I was holding onto something. You didn’t want to talk to me.”

Finnick sighs, “You didn’t actually think that I would ignore you for long, be honest with yourself.”

“That’s because you were expecting me to crack and give you some bullshit lie. But when you figured out that I was stubborn, you realized the mistake you made,” You look at Finnick, “And you still haven’t even apologized just yet.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for.”

You laugh, shaking your head, “Even after all of this, you still can’t come to terms with it. Get over yourself Finnick, you were wrong, and you’re still wrong.”

Finnick looks directly at you, the buzzer on the stage has gone off again, Brutus moves to get ready to go on as soon as his name is called. You and Finnick are caught in your own little bubble.

“(Y/n), I’m never wrong.” His face is dead serious, there’s no amusement.

You match it, a little mad that he’s so good at this, “Then you’re accusing me of being a liar. And to that, I say fuck you.”

You hike up the dress, being sure that he isn’t stepping on it, before you head over to where Wiress and Beetee are already waiting. You stand tall in the heels that you’re wearing. You can easily see over Wiress’s head, and you’re a little bit taller than Beetee. You’re mostly just meeting his eyes.

You quietly watch the interviews, watching how everyone has corresponding outfits so far. But when you look at Wiress before she heads on stage, you notice that her and Beetee aren’t matching at all. And it’s about to be the same thing for you and Finnick. One more elegant than the other, but the both of you have a way with words.

It’s no surprise that everyone who has been on stage so far are trying to be persuasive, they want the Capitol to change their minds. You might all be enemies as soon as you step into that arena tomorrow afternoon, but tonight you work as one team. With only one goal, to get the citizens of the Capitol to see that this is no hunger games that they should enjoy.

Wiress is gone soon enough, and Beetee is up. He mentions something about being able to change these games. If it was put in, then that means it can be taken out. And he’s so right, but it’s not good enough. The buzzer goes off a couple minutes later.

The cheering gets louder when the crowd realizes who they’re going to see next. You take a deep breath to calm yourself down.

“Good luck.” Finnick tells you.

And just this once, you decide to be nice, “You too. No love poems.”

He cracks a smile, “Can’t promise that.”

“(Y/n) Gallows!” Caesar yells.

You pull up the dress in the front while you go up the steps. The second that you’re in sight of the crowd, you smile widely, letting go of one side as you wave. This is a much bigger interview place than the first time. There’s more people, and they surround you from every angle.

And you can’t deny that the stage doesn’t look absolutely gorgeous. The Capitol had really gone out of their way to make sure you guys look like royalty.

Caesar gasps when he sees you, helping you up the final steps. When you’re able to stop, you let go of the dress so it can fall back into place.

The crowd is still pretty loud, so you two wait for them to quiet down some before starting. Even then, you’re still waving slightly, smiling brightly, and pointing some people out. You make them feel special, acknowledging one at a time.

“You look absolutely gorgeous.” Caesar compliments, you turn to him with a bright smile.

“Thank you, Caesar. I have to say the same about you. The purple hair this year really is different. A new trend?” you suggest, there’s a wave of cheering.

“One can hope!” he laughs, “I do have a question, though.”

You move for him to continue, and he smiles.

“I have to ask, why you and Finnick didn’t come up here together!” he looks surprised, and some people from the crowd yell out too, “You two are still deeply in love, aren’t you?”

“Of course we are, don’t suggest something so heinous!” you widen your eyes, shaking your head, “I just thought that the Capitol would love to see him by himself for the final time.” you look out to the crowd, knowing that your expression has gotten a little darker, “It really was a waste to crown all of us over these seventy-five years, only to take it away.”

And then you look to Caesar, “I mean, to think of our families! Our houses will be taken away, and they’ll be plunged right back into the classes they came out of. Don’t you think that’s selfish?”

Caesar’s mouth is open for a moment, like he doesn’t know what to say to that. So, you continue and look back out, smiling widely, “I hope I win, for the sake of my brothers and baby sister.”

He’s seem to have recollected his thoughts, “Well, you did volunteer, after all.”

“I did!” you nod, “But I did it for Finnick. I thought it would increase at least one of our chances at making it home to my family.” and this is where you really decide to cut out the kind act, “As you guys should know, he doesn’t have any family left. After Snow had killed them for all of your guys’ pleasure.”

Crickets.

You look at Caesar, his mouth is open again.

“It really is a shame that you take away all this shit from us.” you shake your head, “First you took my father, from making him overwork. Then you took my innocence and my ability to sleep soundly at night. Of course, you have to assign a Quarter Quell like this. Now my two brothers and sister are going to have another two missing people in the family, and they’re going to have to go back to living in that shack.”

You look out at the crowd again, “You can change this. You, the Capitol can decide that you don’t want this anymore, at any given time. You can protest and say that you don’t want us, your favorites to head back into those games. And if you don’t want to do it for yourselves, then do it for us.

“Show us mercy.” you emphasize the words.

The buzzer goes off, signaling your time is up, which really is perfect timing, but you can’t leave it at that.

“Reed, Mox and Alyssum. I know you’re watching this, and I want you to know that I love you guys. And I’m sorry that it’s going to end like this. Don’t give up.”

Someone breaks into tears in the crowd, you ignore it and head to where you need to stand on the stage. You go up the steps, passing the careers, who nod at you individually. And Beetee smiles, because you might have left the alliance that fuels the rebellion, but you’re reliable after all.

You fold your hands in front of you, watching as the crowd comes back to life at Finnick.

Caesar comments on how comfortable Finnick looks, and he says that the boots are still a little tight from how brand new they are. Caesar tries to keep it light, not wanting to dip back into the mess that you have made, but it’s too late. Finnick shares the same opinions.

“She was right, you know.” Finnick says, “My parents and siblings are gone. But that doesn’t stop her from being my family. And my heart goes out to her brothers and sister tonight, because they are about to lose two very important people in their lives.”

The rest of the interview seems to go smoothly, until Caesar mentions a poem. Finnick smiles widely, and you know that cameras are suddenly on you. You shake your head slightly, but tilt your head. You knew it was coming.

“Tonight, I stare at the moon,” he starts, there’s a few screams, “I think of her gently. She is the love of my life, and I hope she thinks the same of me. We’ve gone through everything together, and this is just another obstacle. I trust her with my life, and she trusts me with hers.

“If I die tomorrow, then I hope she knows that it was for her. And I hope that she gives her all to continue on. For us. My love, I’m sorry it has to go this way.”

Then his buzzer also goes off, and he says his goodbye before heading up the staircase too. Passing everyone, and then stopping beside you. He takes your hand in his, and you make no move to remove it.

The next few tributes are boring, they make their attempts. When Johanna gets on the stage, she resorts to shouting at the Capitol. You laugh, because it’s funny to you. Everyone is handling it very differently, and that’s just how it goes. She’s still yelling by the time the three minutes is up, but she marches over to where she has to stand, crossing her arms.

Cecelia makes a speech out to her kids and husband, which has the crowd in tears once again. And everyone after that isn’t as important. They say what they have to, make false promises when it’s due, and then they move to where they need to stand.

And then Katniss is up.

In a full white wedding gown, she sparkles in the light. The sight is sickening to you, but she says that it was courtesy of Snow, which makes it ten times worse, but it also makes sense at the same time. Snow would do something like this.

Then Caesar asks Katniss to twirl for everyone to show off the dress. She moves forward a little bit, and then starts. The dress bursts into flames at the bottom, the more she spins, the more it goes up. It turns a dark blue color.

“Oh my god.” you laugh.

Katniss raises her arms, and then Finnick can’t help but to laugh too. Caesar can’t get what bird it is, but all of you know instantly, “A mockingjay.” she says.

You can see the look on Snow’s face now.

Katniss’ time is up not too far after, and she takes her spot at the end of the second row. Next to her will stand Peeta.

The beginning of his interview is to say the least, boring. It’s a slow start on all of them, and considering that you’ve practically watched all of them by now, it’s awful. Your feet are starting to hurt from standing here for an hour.

Caesar brings up the wedding, how it won’t happen. Peeta’s response is to tell Caesar that it did happen, but that’s a bunch of bullshit in your mind. Not only are they teenagers, but they also have traditions in their district with marriage. Every single one does.

Peeta sprouts bullshit, you can tell by Katniss’ body language that she’s a little uncomfortable and she wasn’t aware of this. It’s what happens when you have to lie through your teeth. But you’ll give him credit because he is trying to throw off the whole games as the rest of you are.

“--and I wouldn’t have any regrets at all… if it--if it weren’t--” he stutters.

You squint.

“If it weren’t for what?” Caesar asks.

A small pause, like he’s hesitant to say it, and then, “If it weren’t for the baby.”

Your hand loosens around Finnick’s as the crowd begins to scream at it. They’re clearly unhappy with the news, and Caesar tries to make an attempt to calm them down, but it doesn’t work. He encourages Peeta to go back to where he needs to be with the rest of you.

Peeta hugs Katniss when he gets to her, and then they calm down somewhat.

“What a load of shit.” Finnick laughs.

“It’s got the crowd riled.” Beetee mutters.

You can’t say anything. Because even though Peeta had just done that, it won’t mean anything for you guys. The games won’t be cancelled, because it wasn’t cancelled when it was figured out for you.

“The games will continue,” you tell them both, Finnick glances at you, but you can’t bring yourself to look at him, “They won’t stop it.”

“You really think--?”

“I know.” you don’t elaborate after that.

You watch as the bottom row links hands, which means that the top is going to too. You and Finnick are already holding on to each other, you just tighten your grip with him a little more. Then, you reach over for Beetee.

Once everyone is linked, you hold your arms up.

Caesar clearly doesn’t like this, because it gets the crowd louder, and angrier. He motions for you guys to cut it out, but it’s no use.

Just for tonight, all of you are allies. All of you guys are one.

Then the lights cut.

-- Chapter Eight --

Despite the apology being in the poem, you didn’t find it good enough. You’d rather it be said to your face, with no double meaning. Because what he said out there last night, could be taken two ways. One, he was apologizing to you, for starting this fight. Or two, it just belonged to the poem, as if he was apologizing that you two were in this mess again.

And another reason why you didn’t accept it, is because you don’t know which one it’s supposed to be either. He didn’t take the time after the interviews to tell you. Not like you would have ended up accepting it anyway, for the plan’s sake. But still, it would have been nice.

Last night you managed to sleep a lot easier, no problem at all. No nightmares, no waking up periodically, you slept the entire night through. Even though there was a festival going on below you, and you and your husband still aren’t on the same page with this. Even though the games start tomorrow, and you still have a gigantic secret on your hands.

It’s hard to believe that this is your life.

You roll out of the bed, being careful not to actually get on your stomach. Once you’re on your feet, you stretch. Touching your toes, cracking your knuckles and back. You do anything to get your heart rate to rise. It works, and you keep standing, moving around the room consistently to see what happens.

No nausea, which is a very good sign. And no lightheadedness or dizziness or anything. Then again, you’re not exhausted like you had been the first time so you’re not going to be getting the full effects.

Satisfied that you’re still doing okay, you go ahead and take a shower. When you’re done, you pull on some meaningless clothes again since you’ll be changing as soon as you get to the tunnels. You don’t have your wedding ring, you had to hand that off to Laurel, but she’ll be giving it back to you when you get to her.

You take the last of the pregnancy medication that the doctor had given you, hoping that it’s effects will be in full swing by the time you get to the arena this afternoon. You don’t want to be in a weird half-point. The beginning of the games is a very crucial moment, depending on where you start.

The careers have been planning to run to the middle when they get the chance, but they’re a little apprehensive because you’re all going to want to run. Especially people like Finnick, Katniss, Peeta, Johanna and so on. You’re not going to be the only ones with the idea.

Which is why Cashmere said she would settle to get there second, since there’s always duplicates of weapons, and you all just agreed with her. This just means that this year you’re not going to be the first to get there, high on adrenaline and making the first swing, not caring who it is that gets hit.

While you pull all your hair back, you sit on the side of the bed that faces the big window. You stare out, seeing all the brightly colored people and how they interact with each other. They’re all excited, for them it’s a fantastic anticipation. They have hours before they need to worry about sitting in front of their television so they don’t miss the beginning.

Everyone, the Capitol and the districts will be watching to see who makes it past the first day. The thought of that makes your stomach turn sickeningly, you hate the whole idea of it. Your siblings back home will be watching yours and Finnick’s every move. The note you had laid out for them said that you had volunteered for Finnick. But the second that the games start, they’re going to see something different.

Once you’re tired of staring, you finally get off the bed and head out of the room. You’re expecting to see Elysia, Mags and Finnick at the table, but it’s quiet. No one is here, it’s just you.

Out of confusion, you look to the nearest avox, “Did they leave?”

She nods slightly.

“Did they say where?”

She shakes her head.

It’s your turn to nod now, and you move over to the table, “Can you get me something other than stew?”

She heads away from you, leaving towards the kitchen presumably. You look over the table carefully, hoping for some sort of note, but again you come up with nothing. Disappointed, you sit in your regular seat, hands folded in your lap like some scolded child.

It’s hard to believe that you’re doing the right thing when everyone around you is saying the exact opposite. Your brain is telling you that you’re still on track for the original plan, that this isn’t for you anymore, it’s for every oppressed citizen in the districts. But how far can you go before it’s too far? Where it’s the point of no return and you’ve ruined your relationship with Finnick? With everyone?

You won’t even get to say goodbye to Mags or Elysia.

The avox serves the food and you thank her quietly. You eat silently, playing with the pancakes she’s given you. You eat as much as you can bother, before the food tastes bland and your pancakes are too soggy to eat anymore. You leave the plate, thanking the avox again.

“I’m going to visit someone.” you tell her, looking around for some pen and paper. You find it on the coffee table in front of the tv. You write a small note, “Hand this to them if they bother to ask, please.”

She takes it from you, and you head out of the apartment right after that. On the way to the elevator, you rub your stomach slightly, trying to feel a difference. Of course there is none, but it’s still crazy to think about.

You take the elevator down to some random floor you haven’t been to yet, and just go with it. You wander the twisting halls, noticing when you end up in the same place again. Sometimes you’ll catch conversation on the arena, and when you wander around the corner, you can see it’s Capitol citizens.

They don’t realize it’s you at first, but soon enough they’re heading over to talk. The first things out of their mouths are an apology, and how much they regret the games now. You tell them it’s too late, because it is. You know that they’re only regretting it because Katniss is supposedly pregnant.

You wonder if you should have come clean with everyone you could tell, instead of keeping it to yourself. Have them tell all the people around them to keep the information spreading. Soon, the whole Capitol and some districts back home would have known, and maybe it would have been enough to stop this.

Or, it could have completely backfired in your face. You take the picture with the citizens before you leave, and make them promise that they’ll try to sponsor you and the other careers in the arena. Before they can ask what your plan is, you leave them, take the elevator to a new floor, and start over.

This time, you’re careful to avoid people. You don’t want conversation, you want time to yourself. You could have easily had that inside of the apartment, but it feels good to stretch your legs and see something new. The calm before the storm, a lot of calm.

Even as you try to avoid people, the peacekeepers are inevitable. You take advantage of them, asking them when you will have to leave the building for the hovercraft. It starts off with an hour, and then the time really starts to tick down. You realize you should get back to the apartment to say your goodbyes now, but you ignore that thought.

Another half hour of walking around passes. At some point, you sit on the ground for a few minutes, just to give yourself a break. You take a breather then, telling yourself that you’ll get up and continue going on in a moment. But one minute turns to five, and you lose the will to get off of the floor altogether.

You start to think about the baby again while you’re sitting on the floor. All the things you’d like to do with them if you make it out of this alive. Teach them the traditions of District Four, introduce them to their dad. Show your siblings that they’re uncles and aunt.

With little to no struggle, you get off of the floor and begin your way to the doctors place. Down the elevator once again, you don’t mess around. You begin to regret wasting so much time walking around on the floor when you could have been getting every ounce of information possible out of the doctor.

When you enter the room, the nurse that you made friends with, looks up almost bored. And then, she sits up taller, “(Y/n)! Everything okay?”

“Yes,” you tell ehr, “But I have a question.”

She leans forward, “What’s that?”

“Is it possible to figure out the baby’s gender? You told me I’m at three-four months, right? They should be developed enough by now?”

She checks her watch, making sure she has enough time, “I can definitely do that for you. Come on back.”

The nurse brings you into the room where the doctor is. This place is like a nurses office from school. They have the main room, and then two others attached. One being a privacy room, and the other being where they keep medical things, you assume. Defibrillator, heart monitor, some medication, maybe.

The doctor is confused at first to see you back, but the nurse explains the entire situation. They’re quick on their feet, saying that you have a little less than twenty minutes going on. You came in with plenty of time to spare.

They get you to lay down, they bring the ultrasound monitor, the gel isn’t as bad as they say it is, and soon you’re hearing a heartbeat.

You clamp down on your lip to not cry.

“Finnick still doesn’t know?” she asks.

“No.” you tell her, “I didn’t even see him this morning anyway, so it wouldn’t have mattered.”

She moves the device around, her eyes trained on the screen. You’re fixated too, mainly because you’re seeing your baby right now. To think that in the future, you’ll be able to tell them that they have been in the hunger games, they just weren’t born yet.

The doctor sighs fondly, freezing the device where it is, and looking at you, “Congrats, it’s a boy.”

You can’t help the small smile that comes over your face, “Is there any way I could get a picture?”

“Yeah!” and then you wait for her to do her thing. You lay your head down, staring at the ceiling, trying to keep back the tears, but it’s too late.

“I’m sorry,” you tell her, “It’s so pathetic.”

“You didn’t know.” She tells you, “It’s easy to overlook it, I’m sure you were stressed.”

You were, “How much time do I have left?”

She looks at the time on the tablet she has nearby, “Ten minutes or so now.”

“Okay,” you laugh, watching as she wipes off the gel with a towel, and then she hands over the pictures. You hold onto them tightly, staring down at them because they the most important thing in the world.

She lends a pen to you, and on the back on the pictures, you write lightly.

‘Finnick,’ you start, breathing in rigidly, ‘if you get this, then that means that I haven’t been picked up. It’s okay, my love, don’t blame yourself. I knew that this would happen, which is why I took the chance with my plan. I know it was a dumb thing to do, especially since I’m pregnant, but I still wanted to be the one to look after you. Since I still owe you for all those years of you staying in the Capitol. I’m sorry that I couldn’t tell you in person, and please don’t go blaming Haymitch either, I gave him these pictures just before the games. It’s a boy, Finnick. He’s going to look so much like you. I love you, no matter what.’

Then, you tell the doctor you have to be off. You wave the pictures slightly on your way to the elevator, hoping that it’ll get rid of the sticky effect of the front. In the elevator, you test it out slightly, and when you decide that it’s good enough, you fold the pictures. First, the ends in, and then in half. Just to make sure that no one can see it.

Your writing is the first thing that’s seen, and that’s fine. You don’t care if anyone else reads it, life’s too short for that.

The elevator stops on the twelfth floor, and you jog your way to the tribute’s apartment. You hesitate for a second, knowing you’re probably ruining a moment, but you knock anyway. It’s a moment before the door opens, and when it does, you’re met with the district representative.

“May I speak with Haymitch, please?” you ask softly.

You’re sure she only says yes because of your politeness. You don’t bother to peak in, Haymitch shows up at the door a couple of seconds later. You do see Katniss and Peeta looking over curiously though.

“Give these to Finnick if you’re not able to get me.” you hand them over, and Haymitch looks over it curiously, “You can look,” and while he opens it up, you continue, “Wait until he’s in a safe place, a private room preferably. I don’t want him breaking down in front of everyone. And then wait a while before checking in on him.”

Haymitch doesn’t know what to say at first, “These are real?”

“Yes,” you tell him, “refold them how I had them, and then keep them someplace safe. You’re the only person outside the gamemakers, and Snow that know. I found out the first two days in.”

“We need to head out!” the rep tells Haymitch, getting impatient now.

Haymitch refolds them, and then tucks them into a pocket on the inside of his jacket, “I’ll do my best to get him out, (Y/n).”

“He’s first priority.” you tell him, opening your arms for a hug, Haymitch squeezes you tightly, “And please, please don’t let him blame himself. Tell him my plan when he’s ready.”

When Haymitch lets go, he nods, “Good luck in there.”

“I’ll be doing my best.” you tell Haymitch, and then you head off to the elevator.

The second that you get inside, your hands start shaking uncontrollably. No matter how hard you try to calm yourself down, it seems to make it worse. So you let the tears come in the short time span you can afford them, and then you wipe it all away after. You fan your face and squish it and even force a laugh on your way out of the elevator.

In the hallway waits Elysia, Finnick and Mags. Clearly unhappy that your arrival has been so late.

“What were you doing?” Elysia is snappy.

“Maybe you should have asked the avox, she would have handed you a note.” you tell them, holding the elevator, “Are we leaving or not?”

You guys all leave together, getting to where the hovercraft is. Except, you all break off at some point. Elysia can’t come past a certain point, and it’s only a little further when Mags can’t go either. She hugs the both of you, but lingers on Finnick longer. Because of this, you’re still when she does end up putting her arms around you.

You thank her for helping you through your games, and then you leave for Laurel after that, not sparing Finnick a single glance as you go. Down the hall, you see Laurel, and she sees you off to your hovercraft, telling you that she’ll be in the halls waiting for you.

The hovercraft isn’t necessarily hovering, it’s on the ground. Normally they’ll send down a ladder while it’s in the air, you’ll step on, they’ll send electricity through it to freeze you and keep you from jumping off, and then pull you up. But they don’t do that this year, and you can only assume it’s because you’re pregnant.

You’re soon inside and sitting with the other district girls. You’re a little surprised at first to see that there aren’t any boys, since they normally differentiate with genders a little bit. But you suppose they’ve switched things up entirely this year. The medical staff inside go around with the injectors, stuffing needles into forearms and pushing in the trackers.

The woman comes around to you, and you hold out your right arm without a second thought. Then, you laugh, “Funny how the first time it was in my left arm. Wonder if it’s still there.”

The woman doesn’t find it as funny, and that’s fine with you, they all have bland humor anyway. She warns you before she pushes the needle in, and you don’t even flinch when it happens. She pulls it out, the tracker beeps, and then she moves on to the next opinion.

The ride over to the arena is short, and you decide to spend the entire time over there, thinking of baby names. Making yourself feel worse about what’s happening. You like the name ‘Finn’, for obvious reasons, but you could never name a baby that close to Finnick’s name. Not only because that’s your nickname for Finnick, but because they’ll get confused all the time.

There is one thing you know that you want for sure; to have the name relate back to District Four. No matter what happens, even if the rebellion falls through, District Four is your home. They could tear apart the Capitol to make it appealing to the district citizens, but you would never take the bait.

You grew up with the ocean. You grew up on the water, in a boat. You learned how to tie knots and fish. You had some of your greatest memories on a boy, and even as you got older, you never complained about wanting to be on land.

The ocean is a vast thing, but it’s beautiful. It holds promise, it’s never ending. You would do anything to even live on the water. You’ve heard people talk about houseboats before, and you gushed whenever you had the chance to cut in.

You’re thankful that you don’t get seasick, you have a strong stomach when it comes to the waves. Which is one of the first reasons why you think it’s a good idea. Because you’re not going to regret it later on.

Soon, you’re where you need to be, above the tunnels. You can’t help the ladder thing now. They freeze you in place, lowering you in, and then they release you. The other girls follow after, but you’re not sticking around.

Laurel takes you to where your pod will be. You can feel the anticipation building in your stomach now. Like a ton of butterflies have suddenly been released. And it’s now, when you can confidently say that the medication is in full swing. You’re not lightheaded or dizzy. Even if your heart is beating a thousand times a second.

Inside of the room, she shuts the door. Then, she hands you a plate of food and water, “Don’t make yourself sick.”

“I won’t.” You tell her, eating slowly. You drink the water plentifully, and she refills it quickly.

You can hunt inside of the arena, so you’re not too bothered by that. You could starve for a couple of days and turn out fine. Water on the other hand, is very important. They’ll likely have a water source around, like they do every year. This is mainly because one year, a long time ago, the arena was a desert. All the tributes had died off slowly, due to dehydration.

It’s the last thing you would want. Since the water sources can be hard to find at first, if you’re not familiar with your surroundings. After everything gets started inside of the arena, you’ll have to try and convince your alliance to get water.

“Thank you,” you say, “For everything.”

“I’ll be rooting for you,” she tells you, “And you’re welcome.”

There’s no advice she can give you now. Once you're done eating, she then helps you into your outfit for the arena. And the fact that it’s more or less of a wetsuit, makes you nervous.

“A jungle, maybe.” Laurel suggests, “This is supposed to help with humidity. Won’t be worth much in the night time, you might end up getting cold from how breezy it is.”

You put your boots on with ease, and spend the last few minutes kicking them around. You slam your toes into the concrete, and then the backs of the shoe too. Then the sides, and repeat. You’re trying to make them comfortable. They’re tight around the calves for a reason though, probably to keep them on better.

And then the god forsaken voice comes over the intercom. You and Laurel lock eyes, and when the voice is done telling you that there’s a minute left, you hug her. She holds onto you tightly, and before she forgets, she pulls out your wedding ring.

You slide it on to your left ring finger, where it belongs.

Laurel makes some last touches. Readjusting where things are supposed to be. Then the thirty second warning is announced.

“Hopefully, I’ll be seeing you on the other side.” You tell her, she laughs slightly.

“Continue being stubborn and you might just make it out.” She tries to joke, but Laurel seems grave, “I’ll miss you.”

“I’m not dead yet.” You remind her, “Don’t think like that, don’t jinx me.”

She smiles, “I’ll be sending you gifts, even if you don’t deserve it.”

You go ahead and step into the glass pod, “I’ll be waiting, then. Make sure they’re expensive.”

Just before it shuts, she says, “Anything for you.”

The countdown begins as you’re sent up. A faint feeling of claustrophobia kicks in, but it’s gone as fast as it came. Especially when a familiar smell takes over your nose. Almost enough to knock the wind out of you immediately. The one thing you still dream about at night.

The salt of the sea.

-- Chapter Nine --

The sun is blinding at first, taking away your eyesight, but it doesn’t stop you from smelling the salt, and hearing the sound of birds chirping nearby. You blink quickly, holding out your hands to steady yourself, you can’t accidentally fall off this podium, you’ll be exploded into a million bits.

You get your eyesight back quickly, and you almost instantly freeze.

It’s a jungle alright. There’s very healthy, green vegetation. It’s already hot in here, and that can be because of the sun, or because of the terrain that you’re about to be in for the next couple of weeks. However, the trees and wildlife that live in them, isn’t the most important thing here.

In the middle is the cornucopia, but what separates you and it, is a vast amount of water. When you look behind yourself, you see that it spreads all the way out to the beach. But you don’t have to swim, there’s a path of rocks off to your left and right. However, the problem is that you’re not the only one in this slice of water, there’s a tribute off to your right.

You look at him, and the both of you lock eyes. You’re not normally territorial, but just the thought of him hitting the rocks before you, is a little annoying. You’re a fast swimmer, no matter the circumstances, but that won’t stop him from him jumping at you as soon as the gong sounds.

Things could go two ways right now. He could go for the rocks off to his right, and leave you alone and try to head to the middle or retreat off to the trees. The rocks do lead all the way to the beach, it’s a fast escape if you don’t want to be caught in the crossfire of the bloodbath.

Or, he can jump at you. You could try and dive away from him, but for all you know, he has a strong jump, and could get to you easily. The only way to eliminate this problem, would be to go after him instead. And with the way he’s eyeing you, you might just have to make him your first kill.

You look around a little more, noticing that the time is starting to count down already, making it’s ticking noise as it goes down. You can see Cashmere is placed right next to Katniss, and on the other side of the rocks, is Brutus. She’s been purposely placed there to put her at a disadvantage, there’s not much you can do for her now. She’s pretty far away from you.

All you can do is hope that she’s a fast swimmer, and she can run faster than they can. You don’t focus on that too much, you spot Enobaria and Gloss, somewhat close to each other. Your eyes flicker up to see that there’s less than five seconds left.

You prepare your body, taking one final sweep of who’s nearby, and that’s when you see Peeta. He’s not next to anyone prominently dangerous like the careers, so he should be able to take care of himself. He’s going to need to learn how to take care of himself anyway, with that twelve on his head.

The gong sounds before you know it, you’re throwing yourself off of the pedestal. Instead of going away from the guy next to you--who you recognize now as the male morphling from District Six--you go towards him. Which completely ruins his plan, because he was clearly expecting you to go away from him.

Your body slams into his purposely. You make sure your shoulder is the first thing that hits his chest, getting rid of all the air in his lungs. You take in a deep breath before going under the water.

Opening your eyes, it stings a little bit from the salt, but you blink away the pain. He clearly hadn’t been expecting this, now that he’s under you and all. But you wrap your arms around his chest, locking his arms to the sides. You cross your arms in an ‘x’ motion, and then you wrap your legs around his.

And with all the power in your body, you clench your teeth tightly, and squeeze your arms as hard as you can. It’s a moment of shock from him, and when you’re not getting the results you want, you yank your body back a little bit while you’re squeezing.

A flurry of bubbles suddenly come from his mouth all at once. You keep pulling, knowing that this isn’t the end, there’s more to come from him. And you’re right, because he takes in a mouth full of water. Realizing his mistake, he begins to thrash, but there’s no use for it. His arms are by his sides, his legs are locked in place thanks to you. And you’re behind him, so he can’t just bite you or anything.

He does try to throw his head back, but you’re smarter than that. The more he struggles, the more he takes in water. You guys are sinking pretty quickly, but you take your time, letting him get all of it out. It’s a few more seconds of agony until he stops. Only then do you let go.

There’s still a fight in him, he was trying to decieve you, but there’s nothing he can do now. You’re surprised he isn’t passed out by now. Ending it all for him, you place one hand on the under part of his jaw, and the other on the side of his face. Then, you twist quickly, breaking his neck.

After that, you kick your legs immediately, using your arms too. The surface isn’t that far off, you’ve gone deeper before. You’ve been through worse scenarios. Being in the deep part of the water is the least of your worries.

Your right hand is out of the water before your head is. You use this as motivation, kicking your legs a little harder, pushing yourself. When your head breaks through, you take in a huge gasp of air, trying to settle out your lungs. You take a moment to get used to your surroundings, afraid that you’ve gotten turned around.

Your back is to the cornucopia now, and you twist your body so that you’re facing towards it. Then, another look to your right, still worried about Peeta. This is when you can see that Finnick and Katniss are standing there, helping Peeta up onto the rocks. He catches you, and sputters to tell the other two that you’re there.

You turn, swimming away from them, trying to get to the rocks before any of them have a bright idea to throw or shoot something at you, “(Y/n)!”

It’s Finnick, but you don’t listen. Your hands touch the rocks, and it’s a hot burning sensation. They’ve been sitting in the sun all day, and since they’re black, they absorb the heat a lot better. Despite this, you push yourself up onto the rocks, taking your time with getting up. Your eyes go to Finnick to see him motioning for you to go to him.

In this time, you can see the glint of gold on his wrist, his token. You shake your head at him, “No.”

And then you turn towards the cornucopia to see the rest of the careers there. You start jogging away from Finnick, and even though he’s yelling, an arrow whistles behind you. A very close call, your eyes widen considerably, and being careful with where you step, you run a little faster.

There’s no more arrows, it was a warning shot though. Telling you to keep away from them. But Katniss and Peeta have to be so confused with what’s going on. You went and saw Haymitch earlier today, and they know this. Though, you’re not making any attempt to try and make yourself an ally of theirs.

She might just think you’re feeding information to the careers. She’ll end up telling Finnick something, if she ends up trusting him later. Tell him that you had seen Haymitch earlier, or she’ll probably end up keeping it to herself. You saw inside of the training center that her and Finnick didn’t get along very well.

In the middle, you’re greeted with Cashmere holding out a spear for you. You take it, thanking her.

“I’m impressed,” she tells you, you five stand there, staring at Finnick, Katniss and Peeta’s retreating figures, running along the rocks for the trees. It’s a good thing that they had gotten something from here, they’ll need it to defend themselves against anything that might be out there, mainly mutts, “Thought you were going to turn on us for a moment.”

“I’m smarter than that, thanks.” you shake your head at her, a little smile on your face.

You guys can hear the sound of feet, which causes all of you to turn back to the cornucopia. It’s time for the real bloodbath. There’s only one body sitting out here, and it’s the guy from five. As you go by his body, you can see the three puncture wounds, it’s a kill from Finnick undoubtedly.

A cannon goes off, and it’s not because of any of you guys. You’re just beginning to see people come into the middle. It has to be from someone that ran, or maybe Katniss or Finnick.

You swing around the spear slightly, getting used to the metal feeling of it again. It’s still heavy, even if it’s hollow in the middle. The ones back home are mainly wood with metal on the tip. Homemade, mostly. You guys are rich enough to buy from the Capitol--or rather the districts nearby--but would rather choose to have something homemade. Or not expensive.

Cashmere heads for the actual cornucopia, leaving you four to handle the people coming on. They come one at a time, some holding weapons from the displays that are littered around. Others come with nothing, hoping for something from the actual cornucopia. A specialized weapon maybe, like a trident, spear, knives, bow. Rather than the swords that are offered up. It’s as rare as the flu, which is not at all.

Enobaria starts running at someone, the same time as Brutus does. You swing the spear in your hand again, trying to get a feel for it still. But you’re out of time, so you shove the weapon in one of the displays and pull out a sword instead. They’re much easier to use in this sense, and they’re not too far off from machete’s.

You swing the sword now, and it’s always like it was meant to be for you. A cannon goes off, and you look over to make sure that it’s none of the careers. You wouldn’t mind having them killed, but you’d rather keep a count of everyone that goes down. And this time, it’s a girl that goes down thanks to Brutus, “Nine.”

You start to recognize the faces now. With Enobaria is Cecelia, and she has a sword in her hands. But she’s not trained in it like you guys are. You wish she would have just ran, because there’s no way you can save her now. Enobaria catches Cecelia at the tip of her sword, and Cecelia falls.

There’s a feeling of danger that spikes through you, so you swing the sword in your hand. You know that it can’t be any of the careers, because they’re all occupied with someone, and you had just been looking at them. By the time your head has turned to see who it is exactly you’ve just swung the sword at, the person is already decapitated.

You stumble back slightly, a startled scream leaving you. You catch yourself before you fall, but your eyes are glued on who it is you just killed. Her body falls to the rocks like deadweight. It’s not graceful, it’s not pretty. The blood flies through the air, and lands where it needs to. Her head rolls slightly.

You press your first to your mouth when you realize who it is. The woman from ten has just suffered the same fate as the girl you killed in the cornucopia back during your games. Both times you’ve swung impulsively, out of fear that you would be the one killed first.

You hate parallels. You hate them all.

“Are you alright?” Gloss asks, holding onto your elbow to steady you.

Your mouth hangs open slightly as you try to find the words to tell him that you’re fine. But your mind is dragging you back ten years, wanting you to see how disgusting you are. You could be in the jungle right now, running with Finnick, you would only have one kill on your hands, but now you have two.

You’re still a murderer.

He doesn’t wait long, and moves on quickly. You hold yourself where you are, because you have to look to Cecelia, even though your mind is in a completely different place right now. Her dead body’s eyes are locked on you, she’s long gone, the cannon must have gone off while you were worried about the girl from ten.

It’s like she had looked to you for help just before she died. Only to see that you’re amongst your enemies, that you’re working against all of them. You were the one to recruit her to that alliance, and now you’re on the other side.

How can you live with yourself?

Another cannon goes off, you look to see who it is now, and it’s Seeder. She’s facing the other way, thankfully. You don’t know if you can handle another person staring at you.

Gloss moves to help you, and you let him. All five of you gather inside of the mouth of the cornucopia. Cashmere is digging through backpacks and some of the boxes. While the others grab a hold of a weapon of their choosing. You know that you should probably go and grab your spear, but make no move to do it.

“Got the girl from nine.” Brutus tells you guys.

“Cecelia.” Enobaria looks distracted, digging through backpacks too.

You sit on one of the boxes, “Male morphling and the girl from ten.”

You remind yourself that it was out of self-defense. That you’ve gotten no pleasure from killing either of them. Had you not killed the male morphling, then you would have been dead right now. Or the girl from ten, she was clearly coming after you, and you did what you had to. You’re doing what you have to, not what you want to.

“No one.” Cashmere snickers, a few of the others join in and you force a smile.

“I got Seeder.”

“We should probably get our stuff and go.” Cashmere says, pausing for a moment to look at you guys for input.

“Head for Katniss and them?” Brutus suggests.

This is what you’re here for, “Don’t you think we should save them for last?” they look at you now, “I’m not just saying that because Finnick is with them. We should let them run, think that we’ll go after them first and hunt down everyone else instead.”

Enobaria nods along, “Smart.”

“I did stab Beetee when he was back here.” Gloss motions, “Johanna dragged him out.”

“Yeah, I think I saw that.” Enobaria nods, “With her district mate and the crazy chick. Beetee was bleeding like hell though.”

You shrug, “So we let nature take its course, or we could speed it up a little bit.”

“There are others besides them too,” Cashmere says, “Literally all of the outsiders too. Finding the girl morphling might be smart, she’ll try to hide until the end of games and win again.”

You shrug, “We can always try for all of them.”

They all agree that they’re good with that idea. You dismiss yourself for a moment while they sort of the supplies. They’re going to try to keep it all to one backpack so you’re not all carrying one separately. There’s no reason for five people to be hovering and picking out things as the time goes on.

Instead, you go ahead and throw the sword into the water, watching as it spins in the air, and then falls. The water swallows it, and lets it sink. You grab the spear that you had been given originally, and carry it with one hand as you head over to Cecelia. Her dead eyes are locked on you as you approach.

There has to be so many eyes on you right now. The careers are always the pack that’s promoted the most, because you guys are most likely to win. And since they’re all inside sorting out the boring shit, you’re the only source of entertainment they have right now.

You’re about to show your true colors.

You close Cecelias eyes, and bend down far enough to kiss her forehead softly. No tears threaten to pour from your eyes, but you do frown at the passing of your best friend. You then sit with her for a second, staring off into the trees with a tilted head, feeling out of it again.

There are many parallels that you have tolerated up until now. The reaping mornings, volunteering and standing there for everyone to see. You could deal with sitting down to watch the tributes get introduced for the first time, and dealing with the mornings on the train.

Arriving at the Capitol train station, getting ripped apart by your prep team, and seeing Laurel again in that setting. Having your outfit introduced and standing on that chariot as Capitol citizens screamed your name because they were happy to see you again. And what came after, all those days up until the training.

You could honestly care less that you’ve just teamed up with the careers again, that you’re the one that’s sticking with them as you did the first time around. You know that Finnick has had no loyalty to these guys, it’s not like he’s betraying you and running off with Katniss, it’s the other way around. You’re the one leaving him this time.

And you can’t be mad because of it, because it was your choice. You’re doing what you have to, to survive. It’s not pretty by any means, and it’s not the smartest move. They’re like a pack of wolves, they’ve known each other for a long time. And you might have introduced yourself to them before hand, but you guys had a falling out.

You were pretty surprised when Gloss had approached you like that in the training center. That he was so quick to offer you an alliance, almost like he wants to continue pulling you from Finnick. Even after all these years, even after your wedding, it seems like Gloss can’t come to terms with the fact that you’re not interested, and you’ve never been.

Then again, it could have been Cashmere’s idea to invite you to the alliance. You and her were pretty close for a while, she knows how you think about things. You learn quickly, you process things faster a little more than they do. You act on instinct, clearly. You’re more of a shoot first, ask questions later type of person.

Merciless is how they used to describe you sometimes. When you have your mind set on something, you do almost anything you can to have it go your way. Like Annie and Paslee, you were so dead set on getting one of them to win, that you had left them to make sure Finnick would stay. You sacrificed thousands of dollars, not even sure if the pills would work.

They were smart to invite you, but they hadn’t thought everything through. You might act mad, and cold towards Finnick, but you’ll always have an underlying motive. It was for the betterment of Finnick. He would have tried to see you, sneak away or something and it’s not what you need.

If you act cold, then there is no warmth, right? You don’t give him a reason to think that you want him around, and he won’t want to. He’ll get irritated, and rather be alone with other people. He’ll throw himself at his own goals, and that’s Katniss and Peeta right now.

You were right to tell Haymitch of your plan, and not anyone else. You trust Haymitch with more than you probably should, and you know this. But he also knows that you are throwing everything you have in right now. If Finnick is where he needs to be, next to Katniss or Peeta or whatever when the time comes, Haymitch will pick him up. And he’ll do it for you.

Anyway, back to the parallels, killing the woman from District Ten has thrown you off completely. You weren’t prepared to see her, you were expacting literally anyone else. You were just hoping it wasn’t someone like Cecelia or Seeder. You just didn’t want it to be someone part of the alliance that’s trying to save Katniss.

You wish all these people had, had half the brain to know that they shouldn’t have come to the cornucopia. They’re victors, they know what entails in the bloodbath. Even if you’re running at the careers all at once, you’re going to get knocked down. You guys are way more prepared than your regular person.

Hell, just look at Gloss and Brutus! Brutus had volunteered for this willingly, and there’s no secret on why. He’s gigantic, he’s been training just as hard as you have these last few months. You’re sure Enobaria and Cashmere have been doing the same, but muscles on girls just don’t show up the same like they do on guys.

You look over to Cecelia again, she’s relaxed, all of her muscles are soft. She doesn’t have a care in the world anymore. She doesn’t have to worry about how to survive anymore, her fight is over. It’s painful for her kids and her husband, you know it. But it’s better this way, she didn’t die too painfully, it seems like Enobaria had been merciful.

There’s blood around her body of course, it runs between the rocks down the slope and into the water in front of you. She’s not bleeding as heavily anymore, but you’re sure that before the water had been a cloudy brown from the amount of blood that was running.

“We should probably get going.” Gloss tells you.

“Yeah,” you sigh, pressing your hand to Cecelia’s forehead, “I’m sorry, friend.”

You push yourself up after that, letting Brutus lead the way. Enobaria offers an apology, but you tell her that it’s the hunger games. It’s kill or be killed, Cecelia is in a better place. She won’t have to suffer through these next few weeks like the rest of you will have to.

One at a time, you take the rock path to the trees in the general direction that the people like the morphling had run. In front leads Brutus, then Enobaria and Cashmere, Gloss had fought you for the very back, but you insisted that you’d be able to take care of yourself if anyone were to sneak up.

No one will, you just wanted to look at the cornucopia for a final time. See the bodies of people you had once considered your friend. You’re glad that you haven’t become a traitor to them, that none of them had died by your hands. And if you can help it, you’re going to keep it that way.

The hovercraft comes as soon as you guys are gone. That’s also when the cannons go off too to signify how many people had died in total. They might have done a few cannons already, but they’ll do it all over again to make sure that everyone knows. The bloodbath cannons can be confusing.

You count them in your head as they go, and it comes out to be seven. Seven people in total during that short timespan, had died. Two of them being by you, and one presumably by Finnick. You hope that he’s holding up better than you are, and he hasn’t begun to slip back into his mind.

You fidget with your ring nervously, mostly following behind everyone. They’ll talk to each other, and every now and then you’ll insert some sort of input to keep them from actively starting a conversation with you. You mostly just want to be left alone right now.

You kinda just wanna run away from them. Away from Finnick, the Capitol, the districts, the cameras. You just want to sit somewhere private for however long it takes until you can get a grip on your mind again. Because it’s run, and you just wanna follow behind it. Cradling it between your hands and singing it a lullaby.

This must be how Annie felt when Paslee had been decapitated right in front of her. She hadn’t seen it coming at all, and it scared her so badly that it sent her in a spiral. Her mind ran likes yours is now. And she hasn’t had a grip on it since.

You hate to say it, but you don’t want to end up like Annie.

At some point, they think they’ve found tracks, so you all split up into groups. You volunteer to go alone, since it will give you time to think, and they allow this to happen. Enobaria goes with Brutus, and Cashmere with Gloss, respectively.

You step over everything carefully, being sure to make sure that no one is blending in with the trees or the bushes. You wonder how Blaire was able to do it in that woods arena, since it was just trees. The bushes were thin and easily see-through. He wouldn’t have lasted a second had the other tributes seen him.

You think about Blaire everyday, unfortunately. He’s always there in the back of your mind, and sometimes you have dreams about him. They’re so spread out, that when you do have them, your first worry is if he’s been fed, if he’s been fishing like you had taught him. And then when you do get to him, he’s fully fed and welcomes you back.

He normally shows up on nights when things have been particularly hard. You thank him for saving you every single time, and he tells you that he’s sick of hearing it. You and Blaire will sit there in silence for forever, unless there's something important that’s happened that you feel obligated to tell him.

Blaire showed up the night before your wedding and you told him all about it. All of this might seem crazy, but surviving the hunger games was nuts. You were left with basically nothing after. You have this gnarly scar on your back, you used to get flashbacks of killing someone while you were making dinner. Nightmares were a constant.

Blaire showing up in your dreams is nothing compared to all of that. An old friend, even though he had been seen as an inconvenience at first, he’s not anymore. You’re glad that you hadn’t turned out to be the one to kill him in the end. That someone else had done it for you, and it was a person that you could get revenge on.

You killed Lennox for both you and him. Because you owed him your life.

The sun starts to fall quickly, and somewhere during that time, you’ve met up with the careers again. You all are on the same page with finding no one, and decide that you might as well spend the night in the cornucopia. Classic careers, stabilizing the middle because it’s the only thing that keeps them alive.

You’re glad that old habits die hard.

Gloss and Cashmere offer up fresh water that they had found while exploring. You all get your own canteen, and you drink your water slowly. You make sure to put a little more iodine in the water before you start, though. Gloss had tried to assure you that they’d done it already, but you tell him that one round of Typhoid is enough to make you careful for the rest of your life.

You start a fire for them, Enobaria gathers more dry wood, Brutus skins a rabbit, and Cashmere and Gloss tell genuine funny stories to ease up the tension between you guys. Sometime during this, you finish your water, and go ahead and grab more for everyone while you’re at it.

When you return, the food’s done and they’ve left plenty for you. As you eat, you notice how they’re not afraid to get loud. Cashmere has a constant smile on her face, and Brutus tries not to look amused when he really is. The corners of his mouth will turn upright at a funny part, but he’ll shake his head and look down to keep the brooding act up.

Enobaria competes with stories, and Gloss tries to embarass Cashmere the best he can. It’s during all this, when you tell yourself that you’ve always gotten along with these four. You could butt in at any time, and they would gladly shut up to get some of your stories too. You all come from different districts, different experiences and you guys know none of the same people. And despite all of that, you click together so easily.

Some of the stories you’ve heard before from them, but you guess that they’re telling them again for the sake of the Capitol or their friends and family back home. When they’re tired of it though, they ask you for some of yours, knowing that they’re just as good.

You try your best, telling them the little things like when you had been reaped in your first games. You tell them that you had wanted to run so badly, but figured that you would get caught. None of them can relate to this, since they were either picked or volunteered for their roles, and you bash on that a little bit to get a few laughs from them.

Sometime while you’re eating, the anthem starts, making all of you guys look up. This is when you’re able to see that they’re starting the memorium for those who have fallen. You all shush each other, Gloss pushes Brutus slightly to get him to quiet down, and before Brutus can retaliate, Enobaria steps in and places her hand against Brutus’ chest.

The fallen tributes start, beginning with District Five. It’s obvious that the careers and yourself aren’t dead, but it’s nice to know that Wiress, Beetee and Finnick are safe too. The next after that is the male morphling from District Six. You drop your gaze until he’s gone, trying to tell yourself that it was self-defense.

Next is Woof, following shortly is Cecelia, they’re from District Eight. An entire district has been wiped out of the games already, and it’s only been the first day. You hadn’t even got to see Woof at all. Next is the male from District Nine, he wasn’t at the cornucopia, so you wonder if Peeta did end up killing him after all. The girl from nine also shows up, so that’s a second district wiped out.

You’re not prepared for it. To see the girl from ten, so the moment she pops up, you’ve hidden your face in your hands. You press the heel of your hands against your eyes until you see stars, trying to erase the image before it’s burnt in. A hand rubs your back slightly, and Cashmere tells you that it’s her.

“She’s gone.” Cashmere tells you, stopping. You remove your hands, glad to see a different face, but it’s not much better to see Seeder up there.

The anthem closes out slowly, the sky going dark again.

Eventually, the fire starts to get low, and you guys agree to get back to the middle. Sometime on the way back, Enobaria says that there’s no way that you’re allowed to keep watch over them in the night time.

“And why not?” Gloss asks.

You drink some more water, smiling to yourself because you know the exact reason why. Enobaria gives you one look, and she starts laughing when she sees your face.

“Come on, guys! She killed like two careers this way!”

You hold your finger up while you swallow your water, shaking your head. You’ve caught the attention of the others.

“No, on the first night of the games, I was up when muttations came. I killed her out of mercy so she wouldn’t suffer.” You put the cap back on the canteen, “However, I will admit that I did kill another career when he was sleeping, but that was because he was giving me the evil eye whenever we were all together.”

“See!” Enobaria motions, the others laugh slightly.

“I was afraid he was onto me!” You defend, “He had to go.”

“Well, I guess she is out of the picture.” Brutus agrees.

“I’ll take watch.” Gloss offers, “No big deal to me.”

Everyone settles in their spots inside of the cornucopia. Gloss sits at the mouth of it so he can be the first to be attacked if someone does end up sneaking up here with you guys.

While everyone else is trying to fall asleep, you spend the time digging through some of the boxes, curious on what they’d have to offer you guys in an arena like this. It’s mostly things to hold water, and start fires. In the back, there’s a coil of wire that you recognize. You tuck it a little farther back, knowing that it’s meant for district three.

It’s not hidden by any means, he’ll be able to find it, you’ve just moved it so the careers won't have the bright idea to throw it in the water so he can’t get it. You can imagine this is why Beetee was here in the first place. He killed plenty of people with the wire when he won his games, he might have been thinking that he would be able to do it again.

You’re starting to get tired of digging through them, when a certain orange bottle catches your eye. You drop everything that you’re holding instantly, digging through the box violently. You cover the label so that only you can see it. When you’re sure that it’s the medication you need for your pregnancy, you plunge it back into the box and fight to get the sticker off of the bottle.

It takes a moment, but it comes off on one piece. You stick it to the bottom of the box, and then cover everything you can on top of it to hide it. Then, you close the box and sigh, rattling the bottle a little bit when you bring it to your chest.

Gloss looks over, squinting slightly, “What is that?”

“Remember how I told you guys I was sick?” you whisper back to him, and then you hold up the bottle, “It’s my prescription.”

“How can you tell?” he asks, turning to face you a little more.

“What the tablets look like.” you tell him, opening up the bottle.

You pour one into the center of your palm, moving it around. It’s the familiar oval shape, the same baby pink color. You put it in your mouth, then put the lid back onto the bottle before taking a drink of your water.

“I’ll be going to bed now.” you tell him, “If you get tired, I’m not opposed to taking a shift, I promise not to kill you guys.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Gloss laughs slightly, “Goodnight.”

You wave a little bit, before laying down on the sleeping bag you had found. It’s too hot to actually sleep inside of it, so you set it up as a pillow instead. You turn your back to the wall of weapons so you can face the box instead.

You might hate Snow, but he’s been very kind to you.

“Thank you.” you mouth, wondering if he’s still awake.

You don’t owe Snow a single damn thing, so this might be his way of apologizing to you. Either way, you’ll take what you can get and be graceful about it.

“Goodnight, Finnick.” you close your eyes, “Goodnight Reed, Mox and Alyssum. Sweet dreams to you all.”

-- Chapter Ten --

The sound of crashing makes you sit upright, your hand flies to where your spear sits. Your eyes widen as your head snaps to the mouth of the cornucopia. It feels like a shot of adrenaline has run through you, you don’t feel like you have just woken up at all. It feels like you’ve taken a shot of that energy supplement that Elysia used to feed you.

It seems like you’re not the only one that was woken up. Brutus is already on his feet, sword in hand as he leaves to go take a look outside with Gloss. However, Gloss looks distracted, like he’s counting something.

“I hate the gamemakers.” Cashmere complains, she looks grumpy.

“Tell me about it.” Enobaria says, “It has to be the middle of the night.”

“A night of sleep is too much to ask for. I hope they don’t do this every night.” Cashmere says back.

Brutus and Gloss come back with nothing. The gong sound has stopped, and it’s just silence. Cashmere sighs, falling back against where she was sleeping, while the rest of you sit there for a moment.

“Twelve times.” Gloss tells you guys, he goes to open his mouth, but the cornucopia shakes slightly at the strike of lightning.

You push yourself up, tired of sitting here and doing nothing. You move out there with the guys and wander around until you find the spot where the lightning is striking. And there’s absolutely no surprise when you see that it’s the biggest tree in the arena. You stand, staring at waiting for it to stop.

What’s the motive of striking a tree? Hell, why would you want to make a gong sound twelve times in the middle of the night?

Oh.

“It’s midnight.” you say, shoulders slumping, “They’re letting us know that it’s midnight.”

“And what’s the point of that?” Brutus asks.

“Fuck if I know.” you shrug, the lightning stops, and the arena returns back to it’s calm state.

Unfortunately, you’re still wide awake, and you don’t find yourself needing to lay down at all. You’ve gotten your full night of sleep already, and you’d rather sit out here on a box to make sure that no one sneaks up, than try to go back to sleep.

You look at Gloss, “My turn to watch, go to bed.”

Brutus gives you a look, “Yeah, right.”

“I could have killed Gloss while he was taking watch, if I’d wanted to.” you cross your arms, “There’s no reason why I shouldn’t.”

“Why are you so insistent?” Enobaria asks from where she’s still sitting on the ground.

You look over the three that are staring at you intently, thinking that it’s a good question and they’ve caught you, but they’re wrong. There’s several reasons why you don’t want to go back to bed.

“Well, for starters I’m not tired. I’m sure you guys don’t want to do it. And I don’t want to test my luck. I had my dreamless sleep, I’m not going to push it.” then, you move and sit on the box, leaning your spear against the wall as you cross your legs, “Go ahead, I promise I’ll wake you if there’s anything worth knowing.”

They don’t really look like they want to fight it, so they accept it. Gloss finds a spot near his sister, and Brutus resumes his spot behind a pile of boxes, much like you had done. Gloss thanks you for this, but you brush him off and stare out at the water instead.

The next hour is filled with silence. You spend the time watching the trees suspiciously, waiting for someone to come out of them. At some point, you get tired of that, so you get up and stretch your legs instead, getting a better feel for the arena. You might have just gone into the trees and wandered around there, but you didn’t see how big it actually was.

It’s huge. The arena is shaped like a bowl, the outer, and bigger part of the arena is the trees, obviously. Or rather, the jungle. The trees hold vines, there’s small ones mixed with bigger ones. They have stable branches, that anyone with a mediocre set of tree climbing skills, would be able to go up. There was one pond of water, it was small, but that was where Gloss and Cashmere had gotten the fresh water from.

The second ring is the beach, and it goes all the way around. It’s small though, only a few feet wide. You could walk from one side to the other in a couple of seconds. Finally, is the circle of water that surrounds the cornucopia. The cornucopia sits on a big rock, and there’s paths of rocks that lead out to the beach. Those paths divide the water into twelve seconds.

Which is weird for a few reasons. As you sat on that rock, you wondered if it had any connection to the fact that there’s twelve districts. You wonder why they chose to put two to every section, rather than splitting it into twenty-fourths to hold everyone. Also, the midnight thing, the twelve sections.

What have the gamemakers set up, exactly?

You get up to stretch your legs again, and while you’re up, you decide it wouldn’t hurt to take a pill again. You know that it was only a few hours ago that you took once, but you literally never know when something is going to happen. And the fact that it takes so long to take effect is the part that really gets you.

You take the pill and sit back onto the box. As you try to go back to some serene mindset, finally getting a grip on yourself again, you hear a cannon. You look to the careers first to see if any of them have jolted awake, but to them it must be background noise. No one sits up, but Brutus does end up rolling over.

You stand, confused as you move out to see where the hovercraft comes from. It’s claws lower into the trees, and pull out a single body, clearly. The body looks to be male, which sends a strike right through your chest as if you’ve been stabbed. But then again, the body is a bright red. They’re covered in blood.

That means that there has to be another death that follows, right? You stand in silence for the next few minutes, but there is nothing. A few minutes turn to ten, and then twenty, and you find yourself going to sit back onto the box again. You pick at your fingernails slightly, but stop soon enough.

It’s not Finnick, you need to calm down. Sit here and calm yourself down again.

The silence resumes, and you curl your legs under yourself to sit up a bit more. You’ve run out of positions to sit in, and to be honest, there weren’t very many to begin with. You’re just about settling into your position, leaning your head against the uneven walls as boredom finally takes over, when a single scream fills the air temporarily.

You can pinpoint where it came from exactly, it’s not too far off from here. Thanks to whoever it belonged to, Brutus sits up now.

“What happened?”

“It wasn’t from me.” you tell him, eyes still locked on where it came from. It was a girl that had screamed, which could mean plenty of things, and could belong to nearly any girl inside of here, “I think someone’s been caught.”

You and him sit together, waiting for a cannon like you had before, but there is nothing. But from the place where the scream originated from, you can see the cloudy white fog surrounding the trees. The weird thing about it, is it’s staying in it’s slice. It’s clearly gamemaker-produced, but it’s weird how it’s moving, it should be spreading throughout the trees.

“What the fuck?” you ask, watching as it continues to go down.

“Is it going to come here?” Brutus asks.

“No,” you tell him, “I don’t think so.”

Brutus sighs, and you hear him moving and then it’s quiet again. When you look, he’s turned his back to you, trying to get some more sleep. You can imagine how annoyed he is to be woken up every couple of hours. You’re just glad that it wasn’t everyone again.

You’re also surprised that he didn’t have any motive to go out there and kill the person that had screamed. You suppose this is a good thing, but it’s so out of character. He might just be tired from running around all day yesterday, as all the others are.

The careers aren’t normally used to overworking themself until they break. Which could be a good thing, you’re not supposed to work yourself until the point of exhaustion. But if you never know how it feels to run around on only three or less hours of sleep, then when the time comes, you’re not going to be prepared for it.

That makes sense, right? If you never know how it feels to be tired, and work while you are, then you won’t know how to act when you finally are. They need all their hours of sleep, while you on the other hand, are so easily ready to take what you can get and don’t complain at all. You could have gotten thirty minutes of sleep before the lightning started two hours ago, and it would have been perfectly fine to you.

You take what you can, and run with it. Then, you get some more, and run again. It’s a rinse and repeat sort of thing. If you get a full night worth of sleep, that just means you’re losing out on some time during the day. And it’s not like a full night can get you very far anyway. You get nine hours of sleep, and you can only be awake for another nine or ten hours before you’re tired again.

It’s a few hours after that, until they all start waking up, prepared for the day. The first one up is Cashmere, surprised that you haven’t dozed off at all. It’s only a few minutes later that Gloss is sitting up, disoriented and asking what time it is. The sun starts spilling into the cornucopia, and that’s when Enobaria gets up, kicking Brutus.

Cashmere and Gloss volunteer to get water for everyone, and you thank them on their way out. Enobaria remarks something about a ‘peaceful’ night, and you don’t tell her that wasn’t the case just yet. You wait until Cashmere and Gloss get back, and then you break the news that there had been a death an hour after the lightning storm.

As you’re explaining what you saw, the chiming of a sponsor gift stops you. Enobaria catches it, and you can see that it’s pretty big. Think the size of a basket. She sets it down in front of you guys, and you watch from your spot on the box as they open it up.

It’s a breakfast, filled with rolls, a stew, small thermos cups and a few other things. This is what the sponsors call a ‘care basket’ because not only does it have food inside, there’s medicine too. Something that the cornucopia doesn’t normally hold. Gloss grabs a hold of that first, and goes straight for his calf.

You remember him explaining that he had gotten shot because of Katniss. He wasn’t quick enough to dive into the water like Enobaria. You had completely missed all of this, and they were surprised. You hadn’t seen any of them reach the middle, or saw the first two deaths.

You were underwater, choking a tribute that had wanted to kill you, to death. You were under there for a while, and the water was apparently sound proof. When you came above the water, you didn’t know how much time had passed. And it’s a crazy amount of time to go without breathing, especially when they say it had to be at least three minutes.

Adrenaline, you suppose. Because the use for it isn't for fighting. It’s not a flight or fight thing, it’s more of a survival thing. Adrenaline is used to keep you alive, which is why you’re a lot stronger, and you’re awake a lot faster. Whatever you need to survive in that moment, which includes holding your breath for three minutes or more.

Another gift comes in shortly after, and this time you catch it. When you open it up, you can see that it’s directed towards you, and you’re sure to let the others know. It’s from Mags, and when you pull it out, and hold it in your palm, you’re utterly amazed.

“No fucking way.” you drop the metal onto the box, stepping away from your alliance for a moment.

The hilt of the knife is specially crafted. It’s got starfish, and barnacles and vines wrapped around it. There’s a clear place where the hand is supposed to go, and it’s made out of a pattern of waves. It’s decoration, very beautiful, handcrafted. You’ve seen these types of things on the monitor before.

It’s almost like a district token. Every district has something that represents them. Whether it be clothes, or jewels or livestock or electricity, they’re all beautiful. The knives represent what the district is about. They’re unique to every games, and normally they’re little trinkets that the Capitol citizens buy--souvenirs. They do this to show that they were loyal to a certain district throughout the games, even if their tribute hadn’t won. However, those ones are normally fake, plastic.

This is very real. The blade is sharp, and you resist the urge to test just how sharp. These things have a little trick to them, and you search for it for a long couple of seconds. You can hear Enobaria and Brutus fighting over who gets a bigger portion of the stew, when you find the button.

The blade flies out, extending into a sword, which shuts up their conversation quickly. You can’t help the smile that comes over your face as you turn the weapon over in your hand. You swing, and slice and feel the weight of it. It’s light, easily movable, and the thing is probably so damn durable. It’s portable, it’s throwable. It’s perfect.

“Thank you!” you shout, “I love it!”

You press the button again, watching as the blade retracts to its original place. After this, you go ahead and sit next to the others, thanking them for saving you some. You eat, and resume telling them what had happened in the night. They agree that if the guy that had been carried away this morning was covered in blood, that no one else had died alongside him.

Who else’s blood would that be? It couldn't be his, he was red from head to toe. And if it was someone else’s they would have died too. Something weird is going on with this arena.

It’s the Quarter Quell, so you expect it to be extravagant. But there had been so much shit that had gone on during the night, starting with the lightning.

A cannon goes off randomly while you guys are eating, and you watch as the hovercraft collects her from the water. You suggest that she drowned, but you know better. The water had been completely empty before, no one was hanging around at the beach.

At some point, they’re all ready to start getting things going. You convince them that you guys should head for the other side of the cornucopia, since you tried in front of it already. They agree, Cashmere goes to pack the things into the backpack, and you go ahead and throw the pills inside of there too, telling her that you’re not taking the chance with being sick.

After that, you all set off. Just before you get into the trees, you check to make sure that the three figures are still on the beach, and you didn’t just screw whoever it is over. But you see that the number has doubled, so you know that you can done the right thing.

You guys wander the trees aimlessly. The heat of the arena keeps you guys from actively running around. You’re already sweating like pigs, fanning yourselves with anything you can afford. You’re drinking a ton of water, and you guys are out of water before you know it. When you come upon a spring, you reload, put the iodine into the water, and then keep going.

During this, you’re messing around with the knife. You extend it into a sword at some point, and you’re swinging it at the leaves. It cuts through the thickest things with little to no problem. Eventually, you get bored of it though, worried about the blade becoming dull, so you retract the blade an hour or so later, and just spin it in your hand instead.

Gloss has the audacity to ask you if you know any tricks, and you look him straight in the eyes and tell him you know more things than his little academy has ever taught him. Not to mention, you’ve been training for today, and you let them all know that too. That when the games had been announced, you were on top of working your muscles back up, as well as Finnick.

Brutus laughs at you for letting yourself go in the first place, but that wasn’t the case. You were still strong, but why not be stronger? You brag that you could carry one of them if it came to it, and that’s when Enobaria starts to complain her feet hurt, cheekily. You take this opportunity, and carry her on your back for a good hour after.

“You really are prepared to win the games, huh?” Cashmere eyes you.

“Don’t go and betray me now.” you squint at her, “I’ve shown nothing but loyalty, especially when I could have killed you all in your sleep and none of you would have a clue.”

“The cannons would have probably set us off.” Enobaria says.

She wants to be let down, so you let her, continuing with the conversation, “Yeah, right. Come on guys, all I would have needed was four throwing knives and you could have been history.”

After that, they seem to shut up. It’s a couple of more minutes of silence, and then a scream fills the air. They go to run at it, but you grab them before they can. A sick feeling in your stomach makes you hold back from going towards where the girl had screamed.

Your gut feeling was right, because a huge tide comes out of nowhere. The water is up to your calves, and you hold onto a smaller tree, arm hooked around it. A few seconds later, a cannon goes off, and a blast of air comes out of nowhere.

“Don’t move.” you tell them, “Hold on tight.”

The water begins to break formation of the slice, spreading out a little bit. It goes straight towards the middle, and when the worst of it is gone, there’s only a tiny bit of water left over. It hits your ankles now, and it’s not powerful at all. A few more minutes, the water has run dry and the hovercraft has collected the body, a girl you’re guessing.

You guys walk around for a little bit longer. Taking a break every now and then because you’re breathing heavily. At some point Gloss gets tired of the suit so he rips it so he can let his torso breathe. You’re unsurprised when Brutus does the same, a little medical fact pops in your head at that moment. That men’s body heat tends to be a lot more than girls are. It makes them uncomfortable.

An hour or two later, there’s another lightning storm at the big tree. It’s around the same time when you’re all thinking of going back to the cornucopia. You can’t really argue, you guys have been out here for hours, you just hope that whoever was down at the beach have already visited the middle while you were gone.

Not to mention, you kinda wanna go back too. You’re starting to feel the fatigue from not sleeping, and you wouldn’t mind a nice nap right around now. It’s not from the pregnancy, that you can be sure of. You’ve never felt better. Had the medication not been in those boxes, or had you stopped digging through them like you wanted, you wouldn’t have found them at all.

And you would be tired, and nauseated, and begging to sit in the water for the entire day. You would be able to convince everyone that it’s the same symptoms of heatstroke, but you wonder how long they would have bought it for. When one day turns to five days in a row. Yeah, things would have been getting pretty fishy to you too.

You guys head up the same way you came, facing the back end of the cornucopia. It’s halfway along the rocks, when you realize that you guys aren’t alone here. You can hear the faint sound of a couple of voices.

You close your eyes for a second, damning yourself to hell for this. But it couldn’t have possibly been your fault. You gave it plenty of time, four, five--maybe even six hours. It was plenty of time for them to get in and out of there. You guess that they don’t really have a hurry to be in since it was empty.

But come on, at least Finnick had to be smarter than this. To know that the careers would definitely return, it’s where they reside. They secure the middle, and they thrive off of it. Then again, there’s always the chance that they had just gotten here, and in that case, you can’t complain. You can’t complain at all.

Suddenly, you’re all ducking down to make sure you’re not known. Cashmere takes off the backpack, and sets it in the middle of the rocks. There’s no way to avert this, you can’t convince them to turn around, because even you have to admit that this is a perfect opportunity to attack. Gloss heads in first, Cashmere right behind him, going to the left. Brutus and Enobaria follow to the right.

You follow Gloss and Cashmere, hoping that this isn’t a bad decision you’re about to make. You hold the knife in your hand tightly, finger over where the button is. As you get closer, you can make the voices more distinct, clearly hearing Peeta, Katniss and Beetee. Finnick says something quiet, but it’s all drowned out by one person. Wiress.

You get below the rocks, eyes flickering between Gloss and Cashmere, and Brutus and Enobaria. You hate watching your husband like this, with absolutely no clue that you’re here. This is why you would have been needed, because while all of them are staring at the ground, drawing out a clock, not paying attention at all. You would have been multitasking.

You ‘accidentally’ tap your knife into the rocks, hoping that they’ll hear it, but they don’t. Not even Cashmere looks at you. Gloss suddenly gets behind Wiress, pulling her head back and stabbing into her neck. It cuts off the nursery rhyme that she was singing, and it alerts the other almost instantly.

The cannon goes off, Katniss pulls an arrow from her quiver, not even giving Gloss enough time to react and get out of the way. He takes the silver arrow to his heart, that cannon goes off next. In retaliation, Cashmere jumps up, running towards them.

You stand now, mouth open as you watch Johanna shove Katniss out of the way. The axe flies from her fingers, getting Cashmere in the chest. Her cannon is instant, and since there’s so much attention where you are, eyes suddenly hit you.

Katniss raises her bow, and you push the button, watching as their faces change at the sight of the sword now. Brutus, on the other side of the cornucopia yells, throwing a sword in their direction, which takes the attention away from you immediately.

Finnick jumps to get Brutus, fighting him off with his trident. Katniss pulls an arrow from her quiver, and just because you can’t let the last two careers distrust you, you pick up the nearest knife that isn’t yours, and throw it.

It knicks Katniss’ finger, and she hisses out in pain. Johanna and Peeta look at you at the same time, and your motion is quick, a finger to your lips as you turn to run. They don’t move after you, instead going for Brutus and Enobaria, who have begun to retreat too.

You take a different rock path than they do. You head straight for the backpack, knowing that the meds you need are in there. Behind you, you can hear Johanna yelling for Katniss to stop. Just as you scoop the backpack into your arms, you can hear an arrow whistle past you.

You hit the rocks, stomach landing on the backpack, thankfully. But it doesn’t stop the rocks from being jagged. You look behind you with wide eyes to see that Johanna is holding onto Katniss’ arm. It’s also in this moment, where the middle begins to spin.

“Oh shit.” you mutter, pushing yourself up as you begin to run towards the beach, afraid that the rocks will start moving too.

It’s only a few feet of the rock that’s attach to the cornucopia. You pause for a moment to watch it spin. You notice how they hold on, and Finnick looks over his shoulder for a brief moment, and you know he sees you through the water that’s getting kicked up.

You have to keep going, especially when the weapons begin to fly into the water. You collapse the knife again, glad that you didn’t have to use it, and then you run towards Brutus and Enobaria are waiting. They help you off of the rocks, Brutus thanks you for stalling Katniss’ arrow, and you guys head back into the trees.

They still trust you, that’s all that matters. No other cannons go off, and you guys take inventory of the backpack once again, since Cashmere was the one that was keeping track of everything. You drink water, and eat as much food as you can spare, but in all honesty you’re hoping that Finnick is okay.

“I didn’t hurt him,” Brutus tells you, “It’s Enobaria you have to blame.”

“He dodged the knife just fine, if anything it’s a papercut.” Enobaria reasons, looking at you, “He’s alive, and he’s still your kill.”

You resist the shudder that wants to go through your body after that comment. The idea of killing Finnick has never crossed your mind, and it never will. You won’t put any thought to what she just said, and you might just end up killing her for it. No one kills Finnick, not even you.

You guys stay close to the trees, watching as the group stays at the beach. You all theorize on what they might be up to. Since they had come up with that clock theory, but Brutus says it can’t be anything good. Beetee has a wire that he nearly died for, and everyone knows how he won his games.

“Then we stay off the beach.” you decide for them, “And if you want, we can even hunt them down later tonight. Or wait for tomorrow.”

“We’re outnumbered.” Enobaria tries to reason.

That’s a great reason why you guys should do it. So you can watch them both get obliterated right in front of you. Then you can come clean to the others what you had been doing the entire time. Finnick will welcome you back with no problem, and Johanna seems to have caught on.

“So?” you challenge, “When has that ever stopped us?”

The argument is good enough for them.

You guys wait a while, watching them at the beach, until they eventually all go and hard up to where the big tree is. You guys don’t move from your position for a little bit, giving them a head start. You hydrate some more, refill on water, and then decide to go ahead and go and follow up.

It’s a long walk up there, hours at least. It’s only thirty minutes or so into you guys hiking up when the anthem starts for the fallen. You hadn’t even realized how late it had gotten, how the sun is falling behind the trees a lot faster now. You all take a moment to watch.

The first to appear is Cashmere, right after her is Gloss, Brutus seems to breathe through his nose a little heavier like a bull. He’s not happy that they’re gone, and you shake your head to blend in a little bit. You’re secretly so damn ecstatic that you only have two to babysit now.

They might be the most difficult to round, but they’re easy to please. You’ve already taken over the spot of leader, and they’re following behind you with no question. You don’t know if it’s because they trust you, or you are as authoritative as people say. Elysia used to say that your confidence was a little off-putting at first.

The girl from District Five shows up, following is the girl from six--the other morphling. You’re surprised to see Blight, but when Chaff follows, you’re even more confused, “Did we miss a cannon?”

“Probably some time while were eating.” Brutus says, you nod slowly.

The anthem drops off, and soon you guys go to start climbing again. You know you have a full night ahead of you, that’s nothing but exercise. You take another pill, knowing that it has been over twelve hours since the last time you took once. You trail behind Brutus and Enobaria mostly, not too interested with being on their ass the entire way up.

It gets hotter the longer you guys climb, and you watch as Enobaria pulls off her top so she’s cooled down. She sighs in relief the moment it’s off, and then offers to unzip the back of yours. You want to say no, but you end up saying yes too, because it’s so goddamn hot.

It’s a lot cooler the second the top is off. You tuck your knife into your belt that you hadn’t really realized was there, and you spend the rest of the time climbing in silence.

There’s already been what? Sixteen deaths? Eight remaining? You three, Beetee, Johanna, Peeta, Katniss and Finnick. Did you miss another death?

“Did the guy from ten die?” you whisper to them.

“Yes.” Enobaria says back to you.

You must have blanked then while you guys were eating. You hadn’t even realized that two were dead. There’s really just you guys left in here. Which is why things are suddenly so important.

The sound of two voices stop you all with no warning. You lean towards where the sound is coming, and it’s Johanna that’s speaking. You all ease out to where they’re walking down from, and Brutus has the bright idea to step on the wire. Sadistic, because it scares the absolute shit out of them.

Katniss pauses, just as Johanna does. They can’t see you guys because you’re still hidden by the trees. Katniss mutters something about it being caught, squinting her eyes. Then, Enobaria cuts it, and the wire goes flying towards them.

Just as they flinch, Enobaria and Brutus rush out of the trees. As a distraction, Johanna hurls her axe at you guys, making you all jump out of the way. A second later, Katniss’ scream fills the air, and then it’s silence.

“Where’s the cannon?”

“Fuck the cannon, go after Johanna!” Enobaria shouts.

You let them go after her first, as you go to check on Katniss. You lean over the ledge slightly, Katniss’ neck is covered in blood and you can see that her arm has been cut open. It doesn’t take a genius to know that Johanna has just cut out Katniss’ tracker.

Her eyes are wide as she stares at you, her fingers twitch towards her bow, but you shake your head, “I’m friendly, Katniss. Just checking to make sure you’re alive.”

A yell makes you turn your head, and you don’t say another word to Katniss. You get up, heading to where they all had ran off to. You drop the backpack into a place where it’ll be hidden, and it makes it ten times easier for you to climb around now.

When you get to where Johanna is, Brutus and Enobaria are standing over her.

You pull out the knife, pushing the button for the sword, and you swing with no hesitation, straight at Brutus. Enobaria, you can take in a fight, it’s Brutus that’s the real threat. The sword slices right down his back, and it’s exactly what you need at the moment.

In the distance, you can hear Finnick yelling for Johanna. Enobaria turns towards you, but you catch her sword with yours, keeping her from doing anything. Brutus falls, a cannon going off because of it. He’s dead because of Johanna.

Enobaria, seeing that you weren’t on her side, makes a run while she has the chance. You go to go after her, but it’s literally no use, it’s only you guys left. You help Johanna onto her feet, and even go as far as to wipe some of the blood off of her face. Admittedly, it smears a bit, but for the most part, it’s gone.

“Thanks.” Johanna says, “I was beginning to think you wouldn’t fall through.”

“I’m a good ally.” you tell her, smiling a little bit.

Enobaria isn’t gone.

She jumps from the top of the ledge, heading straight towards you guys. You swing your sword at her, cutting into one of her fingers. Johanna steps in after that, swinging her spare axe easily.

Enobaria will make a jab, Johanna will dodge, and sometimes even you’ll get a swing or two in. She’s clearly overwhelmed, you wonder if she wishes that she had ran instead of coming back. Because the two of you, clearly weren’t going to follow after her.

She thought she would be able to get the jump on you guys. Your back was the part that was facing her. You’re sure she was going to take the term ‘backstabbing’ quite literally had you not turned around. But then again, you saw the way that Johanna’s eyes had widened a little bit, Johanna would have knocked you out of the way if you hadn’t done it yourself.

She’s more fond of elbowing people to move, rather than jumping in front. It’s effective, it can get the person you’re protecting on the ground, but it’s also painful as hell. To be bumped that hard. You saw the way she did it to Katniss when she was going to kill Cashmere. It wasn’t pretty.

The fighting feels like it goes on forever. You don’t know how Enobaria does it exactly, how she’s so easily dodging but also coming so close to getting hit each time. Johanna is clearly getting frustrated, and her swings get faster and heavier. With metal-on-metal, sparks begin to fly.

A storm starts brewing out of nowhere, “Midnight?”

“Yeah,” Johanna grunts.

Enobaria lets in an opening that she shouldn’t have, and that’s when you get the tip of the sword right up to her throat. She pauses where she’s at, eyes slowly widening. You try to catch your breath, eyes and arm locked on her. You can’t move, or she’ll be able to run.

The sky begins to make the sound like it did right before lightning would strike. Very faintly, you can hear more yelling.

“You’re such a--” Enobaria starts.

“You guys were a bunch of idiots.” you tell her, “You should have seen this coming.”

The lightning hits, shaking the ground. Johanna suddenly grabs you and yanks you away from Enobaria, and you’re about to complain when you look up at the sky. Enobaria does the same, and you watch as the forcefield on the sky turns dark.

-- Chapter Eleven --

The restraints on your arms and legs are the first thing you feel when you finally manage to drag yourself out of unconsciousness. You want to open your eyes, to look around and see where you are, but you know where you are already. It is no mystery, and it is no nightmare as you were hoping.

So, you lay still, keep your eyes shut and breathe carefully. You can hear the faint sound of voices, shoes against metal flooring. There’s a screaming down the hall, pain or just resistance, you have no clue and you hope that you’re not next.

As for in your room, there’s a steady beeping, the heart monitor. Which is why you’re so insistent on not moving or breathing any faster than you have to. Taking it in and breathe it out on a beat, and it’ll keep the monitor from alerting the doctors. You’re sure that they’re hooked up to it, and they’ll get an alert if it notices any changes.

The light above you has to be a bright white, because you can see it through your eyelids slightly. Right above you, you can imagine. There’s an AC unit in the corner, and you know that because you can feel the air circulating the room, especially on your thighs.

You’re likely wearing a hospital gown, since it cuts so short. Your arms are also feeling the same draft, so it makes sense to you. Your hair is let down, you think. You can feel it against the back of your neck. You make no move to double check, afraid that there are eyes on you after all.

There could be someone sitting in the room with you, or standing over you, and you can’t hear their breathing over the beeping of the heart monitor. They’re being very quiet on purpose, which is why you have to be very, very careful to not show that you’re awake.

You don’t want to open your eyes, you don’t want to twitch your fingers or turn your head or test just how many restraints are across your body. You lay here in place, breathing in, and breathing out. Breathing in, and breathing out.

You spend this time of silence and stillness, trying to remember what had happened last. You remember the arena, and you remember stabbing Brutus in the back, or cutting him at least. It was a move to save Johanna. She killed him, Johanna had finished him off.

Then Enobaria ran, you think. You and Johanna had a moment to yourselves to collect and make friendly again, but Enobaria came back. You stopped her, and Johanna had stepped in to protect you. But every now and then you’d help too.

You remember hearing yelling, but it wasn’t from any of you. Now thinking about it, it could have ended up being Peeta, looking for Katniss just before the dome had come down, which is what happens next. The storm brewing overhead, and you have no recollection of looking at it, because you were so set on making sure Enobaria didn’t move.

Then the lightning struck, onto to be shot back into the sky, right? You remember watching the sky turn back, which was also when Johanna yanked you away from Enobaria for some reason. The sky came crumbling in, Enobaria ran, and it was just you two for a moment.

And then you tried to get out when the hovercraft came. Johanna found Peeta, knocked out against the rocks. The rocks must have moved beneath him when the lightning struck, because he very clearly hit his head against the rocks on the way down. He was bleeding, and Johanna asked you to help her.

All you wanted was Finnick in that moment, so you ran to him. Up the mountain, hoping to make it to him in time to be pulled out. Only, when you got there, he was already so high, so you tried to jump, and Finnick nearly had you. You saw the pain in his eyes when he missed, and watched as he left you behind.

You waited to make sure he was safe in the hovercraft, a part of you hoping that they’d save you, too. But they must have run out of time, because they were gone right after that. This is why you went back to Johanna and helped her take Peeta into a cave space.

Then she broke the news that it was useless anyway. You guys still had the trackers in your arms, and the peacekeepers were already heading towards you guys. You remember making the last minute decision to throw Peeta’s machete instead of your sword. It got a couple of the peacekeepers. Johanna and you had fought off as many as you could manage, but you were overpowered.

You weren’t awake for long after, they knocked you out pretty quickly. After that, it’s blank.

How many days has it been?

The automatic doors to the room open just then, and you can hear a couple of voices. The first being a doctor, and another being someone less important you can imagine, speaking directly to someone who’s already in the room with you.

Snow.

“President Snow,” they greet, “has there been any sign of her waking up?”

You breathe steadily, thanking the heart monitor when it doesn’t stutter when you realize that Snow has been staring at you this entire time. You’re a good actress, you’re bad at lying but you can act. And that’s one thing you’ll take to the grave with you.

“No.” he says.

“Would you like us to force her?” the doctor asks, it’s a male. You can imagine he’s staring down at the tablet in his hands, “A shot of adrenaline will get her up quickly.”

Don’t do it.

“I think we’ll wait.” he says, you want him to get up and leave so you can take inventory of the things around you. You want to fight your way out, no matter how useless it’ll be. You want to get out of here, “It won’t be too long before she’s awake. We have time.”

“Hopefully she’s nothing like Johanna.”

“I imagine she won’t be.” Snow says.

They wrap up their conversation, and leave the room. Everyone except for Snow.

Silence, except for the heart monitor.

“I know you’re awake.”

No skips, you’re an actress. You’re an actress. You’re an actress.

“You can’t lay there forever.” he tells you.

Actress.

“Don’t you want to know about Finnick?”

You know where he is already, in safety. He’s with Katniss and Beetee and Haymitch. He’s in safe hands, and soon he’ll get to see that picture. Finnick will be mad at himself for a long time, but he’ll be fine. If anything, he’s probably beating himself up over the fact that you’re here.

“Or your family?”

The monitor stutters, and Snow chuckles.

You can play this off, and so you open your eyes to the bright light, and then look to Snow in the corner. He tilts his head, placing the bookmark back into his book, closing it. He stands, coming towards you.

“I don’t know what you want from me.” you tell him, “I know nothing.”

“I doubt that.” he says, stopping just above you, “You knew that they were coming.”

“I knew of the plan,” you admit, “I knew that we would be protecting Katniss, but I didn’t want to do that. That’s why I went with Cashmere, Gloss, Brutus and Enobaria.”

“But you turned on them, didn’t you?”

You squint at him, “Have you ever actually been in the games?” it’s a rhetorical question, he can’t answer it, “No. So, you wouldn’t know how strategy works. I had to kill Brutus, for my own survival.”

He shakes his head, a little smirk on his face, “You forget the part where you and Johanna had your moment?”

“We’re friends.” you spit back at him, “You know what those are, right?”

He’s not amused at your hostility, “I suppose now that you’re awake, we can begin the interrogation.”

“I don’t have anything to tell you.” you remind him, “I know nothing.”

“You know more than you say you do.”

He goes to leave, but you struggle a little bit, “Tell me about my family. Tell me about District Four.”

The doors open but he pauses, “Maybe if you’re cooperative.”

He starts leaving again, “You son of a bitch! You motherfucker!”

The doors shut behind him, and you place your head against the bed. The heart monitor has sped up considerably, no longer at a calming rate. You try to slip your wrist out of the leather restraints, but they’re on too tight. You’re forced to lay here, staring at the ceiling.

You’ll kill Snow yourself if you find out that he hurt your brothers and sister. The second that you get free of these, he’ll be the first person that goes down, because they’re innocent. They’re innocent people, they had no clue what was going on.

And for that matter, you didn’t really know much either. You’re telling the truth, and he can’t see that. He wants to believe that since you knew at least a tiny bit, that you’re repressing more than what you’re giving up. But you knew the basics of the plan.

It was a protection of Katniss and Peeta. You guys were supposed to keep them alive against everyone until Haymitch and Plutarch would be able to get them out. You didn’t stick along for long enough to know where they had headed in that hovercraft. You know the three tributes that are on there, just as well as they do.

You lay here in silence for a while, listening as your heart monitor slows down again back at it’s regular pace. You wait and wait for someone to come in and get you, but he must be purposely waiting now. He wants you to drive yourself crazy about it.

Eventually, you stop moving and struggling and you end up staring at the ceiling light without realizing it. When you notice the little spots across your eyes, you go ahead and look towards the glass doors to see what’s happening in the hall. It was perfect timing, this is when you’re able to see someone struggling.

They’re screaming, and doing anything they can to not be brought wherever they’re being drug. It’s a girl, short black hair, resistant…

“Johanna!” You yell, trying to sit up again.

She looks to where her name was called, “(Y/n)?!”

“Johanna!” you yell again, wondering if you could rock the bed and get it to knock over.

“Don’t tell them anything!” She yells, “Nothing!”

And then they yank her away from your door, taking her down the hall. She doesn’t stop screaming, calling them names, swearing, you can hear one of the peacekeepers yell at her to stop. She doesn’t though, she creates a commotion the entire way to wherever they’re bringing her. Eventually, it’s too far away to hear anymore.

Don’t tell them anything…

You don’t know that much, and she has to know that, right? She doesn’t know how much you do know, which is why she’s telling you to keep your mouth shut. You wonder if you’ll be able to play pretend for a little while longer. Finnick was one of the three that was taken to wherever they were headed.

Which means Snow is going to assume you know more than you do. And you can play that off. You can act like you know more than you do, and he’ll have no choice but to buy it. Why? Johanna won’t speak, and Peeta knows nothing, and so you’re the best bet.

It’s not too long after that, when you hear the marching of more peacekeepers. The doors open automatically, and you can see that they’ve doubled the number from two to four.

A doctor leads them in. She unhooks the things from your heart, takes out needles and the first restraint she shows the peacekeepers how to work, is the one connected to your foot.

She’s an idiot.

The second your foot is free, you slam it against her chest as hard as you can manage. The tablet drops from her hand, shattering on the tile floor. She hits the wall behind her, and the peacekeepers move in at you almost instantly afterwards. They hold your limbs down, making sure you can’t surprise them anymore, releasing the restraints.

Then, they hoist you off of the bed, and make you sit on your knees. You go to struggle, but they pull your arms behind your back. They slip something around both of your wrists and then tighten it. Handcuffs.

The peacekeepers grab the bend of your elbows, pulling you up and onto your feet. You put your bare feet in front of you, resisting their dragging as best as you can. They get you out of the room and into the hallway, which is when you can see Snow.

“Cooperate.” he reminds you.

“Fuck you!” you spit all the saliva you have in your mouth at him, and you’re satisfied when it sticks to his suit, “Go fuck yourself! Rot in hell, you unholy son of a bitch!”

The peacekeepers are a little rougher with you as they pull you down the hallway. You still struggle, and try to kick the peacekeepers in front of you. You get your legs tangled with theirs, you try to twist your body. You do anything you can to make it ten times harder for them.

In one of the rooms you pass, lays Peeta on the bed. He’s staring wide-eyed at the door, clearly not ready for this. You wonder if he’s just woken up too, or if Snow’s already seen him and he’s tried to tell Snow that he doesn’t know anything.

“(Y/n)?” he asks.

“Get off of me!” You scream, turning your head from him, kicking your foot up and knocking into the back of one of the peacekeeper’s helmet.

They’ve had enough of you, they each grab a foot and continue walking. This doesn’t stop you from kicking and screaming the entire way down the hall. It would have been much easier had they kept you on the bed and wheeled you down to where you need to be. But they’re not that smart.

They go around corners hundreds of times, all the hallways look the same. You could get lost in here, it’s like a fucking maze. You try to remember the directions they take, but eventually give up because there’s no pattern to it. For all you know, they could be taking you in circles just to throw you off.

Thirty minutes later of you kicking and screaming, and they’ve finally brought you into a pristine white room. White walls, white tiles, white ceiling. A white chair in the middle of the room, with a bright white light above it. New white clothes that they’re going to force you to wear, you can feel it.

In the room stands a single avox, a woman. They drop you on your ass, uncuff you, and then leave the room. There’s only you and her in here now. You stare at her as you slowly get off of the floor.

“Don’t touch me,” you warn her, “Don’t drug me, don’t move towards me.”

It’s not her fault that she’s being put up to this, and that’s why you’re warning her. You don’t want to hurt her, but you will. You’ll do anything you can to be in this room alone. Hell, you’re not opposed to strapping her to that chair in the middle of the room.

She picks up the clothes that are sitting on a white marble cart. The lack of color is beginning to hurt your eyes. You knew Snow normally went white, because it’s the closest to his name, but it’s moronic. Just like how dressing you up in blue is moronic. Just because you come from a district of water, doesn’t mean you have to resemble it.

Without stepping towards you, she tosses them. They slide to your feet, and you look at them in disgust.

“Did Johanna come by?” you ask, it’s a yes or no question.

She nods slightly, but her eyes keep flickering to the right.

You look that way to see a camera. It’s got a red blinking light going, and it’s trained on where you stand.

“Well,” you start, “As I’ve always been told, you’re made to serve. You answer questions and you do things as asked. They can’t get mad at you if you’re following the rules.”

She nods a little bit.

“Are there any other victors here?”

She nods.

“Mags? Annie? Enobaria?” it isn’t until you’re done speaking when you realize that you should have asked one at a time. But despite this, she nods, “All three?”

Again, more nodding.

You turn to the camera, “You brought Annie into this? You’re fucking psychotic, Snow! Let them go! They have nothing to do with this!”

You pick up the clothes that she had tossed towards you, angrily. You pull off the gown, letting it sit by the door. You pull the scrubs on, despite hating every single moment of this. You’ll be easily identified with or without the gown on.

The doors open behind you, and you turn to see more peacekeepers.

You back up slightly, not wanting to get too close to the avox. You make a swipe for their batton, but they grab a hold of your wrist before you can get away from them. And just like that, your other wrist is in a different peacekeeper’s hand. They drag you over to the chair.

It isn’t a doctor that stands in the doorway, but it someone much different. He tilts his head at you, like he’s assessing you. Then, he nods a little bit, “You’d look fantastic in a dress.”

A stylist.

“You tell Snow I’m not playing dress up for him.”

He laughs, shaking his head at you, “You’ll change your mind, I suggest you do it before we have to.”

Your face drops, “What the hell does that mean?”

He waves, leaving the room as he takes notes. The avox and the peacekeepers all leave the room. They shut and lock the door. The restraints on this chair are a lot tougher than the one on the hospital bed.

A spraying noise starts, and you think it might be from outside, until a sweet smell comes over the room. You look over to where you feel the air coming from, and it’s almost like a fog. A cloudy pink fog coming over the room.

You breathe in again, recognizing the smell. It’s the same as a medicine they have in the districts. It’s mostly used when someone is in pain when they’re sick or something.

Normally, it puts people right to sleep.

They’ve turned it to a fog that you have to inhale, smart. Unfortunately for you, that means that the pain is about to begin.

-- Chapter Twelve --

The crack of the whip makes you flinch against the wall, squeezing your eyes a little tighter. For these past few days, you’ve been begging for it all to be one big nightmare. That any second you’re going to wake up in your bed, next to Finnick in your victor house in District Four.

It’s going to be the day of the Quarter Quell, only you’re not going inside of that arena. No victor is being chosen to go inside, it’s the unlucky teenagers once again. They’re going to be forced to kill each other, and endure their share of torture, instead of you guys again.

In this timeline, you know that you’re pregnant, and so does Finnick. There’s a crib, baby toys and all the supplies you’d need for a baby down the hall in the empty room you never knew what to do with. It looks perfect. The walls are blue, the floor is carpet instead of wood to be gentle on the baby’s knees.

You and Finnick have come up with a name for the baby. Every couple of weeks the district’s doctor will come down from their office and come and see you to make sure you’re healthy. Or you might insist to go on a walk with Finnick right up to their door. They’ll greet you kindly, and the check up will go fine, and say that the baby is healthy too.

Mags is excited to be a grandma, since she was like a mother to you. Caspian’s mom is so insistent on a baby shower and she tells you that she’ll invite a couple of people and not too many, but you know that she’s going to invite all of the district in her excitement. Annie congratulates you, and jokes about being an aunt.

Reed and Mox and Alyssum are ecstatic. Reed complains about having a baby in the house again, but deep down he’s happy for you. Happy to see that everything is finally smoothing out for you. You’re no longer having nightmares, you’re singing, and cooking and fishing just like you used to. All those habits that you got rid of are suddenly back.

Mox had cried when he had gotten the news. He hugged you so damn tight, and told you that it’s perfect timing for you guys. He spins you around and you have to remind him that you get dizzy a lot easier. He’ll apologize and set you back onto your feet, but later on in the day, he goes down to the square and brags to everyone there.

Alyssum can’t keep her mouth shut about it long enough. She tells all of her friends and teachers. They’re happy for her, and for you, and for Finnick. Alyssum comes home and draws pictures for you guys to nail up on the wall for the baby. She suggests baby names for you guys, and pretend pouts when you turn her down.

And Finnick, he’s so happy. He’s letting up on the nightmares, he’s no longer looking over his shoulder. He’s so protective over you because he wants to make sure that you’re okay every step along the way. He helps you up and down the stairs, to and from the bathroom and stands there in the shower to make sure you’re okay.

He ties your shoes, and pulls on your jeans and kisses you every chance he gets. Finnick will beg to touch the bump when you claim that the baby is kicking, and he’ll sit there, completely amazed for a while. This is the time when you know that everything will be okay, because Finnick is okay. He has a healthy distraction now, and he’s going to protect the baby at every chance he has.

No one in the district is mad at you in this fantasy. The parents have finally forgiven you, and they’re taking their own precautions. You teach the classes to the kids around you, and you see them blossom more each and every day. You joke that before they know it, they’re going to beg to go inside of that arena, and that’s the day you’ll damn yourself to hell.

All you want is to be happy. All you want is to have your normal life back. You want Finnick back in your arms, and you want to be able to hug Reed, Mox and Alyssum again. You want to see Mags in the mornings as you give her breakfast, and you want Annie to come to you for help when she needs it.

They crack the whip again, and you press your forehead against the cold tile wall. Your lip trembles slightly as you readjust on your raw knees. You look down at what you’re kneeling in, and all you can see is the blood. The mutt scar on your back now has friends.

Your whole backside has friends. They don’t want to touch the front because you are pregnant. You fear that you’ll be in here long enough to give birth, and they’ll take away the baby the moment that it’s out. You won’t even be able to see him.

You hope they save you soon. You want to be free again.

“All you have to do is tell us what you know,” the man says, “Then we’ll stop.”

It’ll never stop. If you ever do tell them anything, it’ll never be enough. They’ll think you’re lying because you’ve been so resistant for so long.

“You won’t,” you croak out, your throat burns from being denied water for so long. You shake your head against the wall, “You won’t ever stop.”

Another crack, you press yourself against the wall a little tighter. As if that’ll ever get you away from them. No matter what, they have access to you. Moving towards the wall does nothing. It decreases the chance of you hitting it when they strike you, but that’s about it.

“Tell us, what are they planning?”

You can feel the urge to cry, and you press your lips together, shaking your head. A tear slides down your cheek, just as you hold onto the restraints a little tighter, preparing for the whip.

A door opens behind you, “That’s enough for now. Snow wants her for an interview.”

You shake your head, “No, just leave me alone.”

“Get her cleaned up, we can’t have her bleeding on camera.”

“Why?” you ask, “Why me?”

There is no answer, the doors slide shut for a moment. The man cracks the whip for a final time, making you flinch again. His boots get faint though, as he leaves the room. The doors open, and they stay open for a long minute before they shut again.

It’s medical staff. They warn you before they do anything to your back. First, they wash it down, and then they clean it, which is the worth part about it all. By the time they want to do stitches, your back feels numb and you just sit there silently. You can feel the needle go in, as they pull at the skin.

They wipe it down for a final time and warn you not to move too harshly. It’ll tear out the stitches. It’s not like you have much motivation for it anyway. You move a little bit, and it hurts like a bitch. It’s not worse than the whippings, you’ll give it that. You can’t help but to wonder how long these will last.

They’re going to take you, and present you to the Capitol, but what happens after? If you’re cooperative, will they finally stop this? Or will they just continue on with what they have to? You have to ask this question, because it’s important. You have to know if you’re going to undergo another couple of days of this.

The peacekeepers let you down from the restraints attached to the wall. They don’t move to cuff you again, which you’re thankful for. You take the time to rub at your wrist, seeing how red it’s beginning to look.

The moments you’re not free, you’re tied up against someplace. And since all they like to do is whip, or inject or play back sounds of your family getting hurt. You have all the time in the world to try and resist to get it all to stop. It hurts, it’s messing with your head.

It’s worse than the hunger games. You’d rather go back in that arena and kill thousands of girls from District Ten by beheading. Because at least then you know that time will fix that. But this? You’ll have these scars forever. They won’t go away, they won’t fade, they won’t become a happy memory.

You’re going to remember hearing Finnick scream your name for the rest of your life. How he’ll blame you for not being there fast enough, or not helping him. But then he’ll beg you to save him, or put him out of his misery. And you don’t know how they’re doing it, because they don’t have Finnick, but the visuals--too realistic.

You can see him choking on his own blood. Or reaching up at you while he’s drowning underwater. Or he’s the one hanging from the rope, and you refuse to cut him free. You watch as Katniss, as Peeta, as Johanna, as Mags and Annie and Enobaria and Cashmere kill him over and over and over. Until you’re screaming turns to sobbing and you’re the one begging for it all to stop.

It happens every single day. And on the days they’re not using Tracker Jacker venom, they’re whipping you. And they’re playing those sounds back to you, until it’s engraved in your brain. Until you’re hearing it when the sounds stop. You clamp a pillow over your ears in the night time as if that’ll fix it at all.

Sleep is the only form of escape you have, and it comes in short bursts. Either they wake you up, or your brain does it before they have the chance to. You’re sleep deprived, exhausted, hungry, and you hurt. It all hurts so much.

The sound of heels makes you look over to where it’s coming from. You wait, curious to see who it is, and then Elysia rounds the corner.

“Elysia!” you gasp, going to push yourself up, but you slip on the puddle of blood that’s still under your knees.

You catch yourself before you hit the floor too hard, and the next time you get up, it’s a lot slower. Elysia doesn’t flinch when you throw your arms around her, hugging her tightly. The stitches on your back stretch, and it hurts your skin like hell. But Elysia is hugging you back with just as much enthusiasm.

“We’ve got to get you cleaned up.” She tells you, “Let’s go.”

She pulls you out into the hallway, behind you the peacekeepers move to follow. Which means that you guys aren’t going to get complete privacy, they’re going to follow to make sure that you guys aren’t up to anything bad. And to make sure that you don’t go ahead and tell her anything.

Elysia takes you around the corner and to a very familiar elevator.

“Where are we?” you ask her quietly.

“The training center.” She tells you, holding onto your arm a little tighter, “It’s the only place for you guys.”

The peacekeepers step onto the elevator, and they press the buttons before you’re allowed to. They then move behind, and you watch as the numbers above the doors continue to go up. First floor, second floor, third floor, and the fourth. It stops, the doors open, and Elysia guides you to the right, towards the apartment.

“Is Laurel and the prep team okay?” you ask her quietly.

“They’re fine,” She assures you.

“Have you heard anything about Mags?”

“Enough.” A peacekeeper orders, but Elysia shakes her head anyway, it’s a no.

Elysia opens the apartment door, and right inside stands Laurel, Cleo, Leo and Beth.

“Oh my god,” Beth covers her mouth.

Laurel looks over to glare at her, being the first to move down the stairs, “Hello, (Y/n).”

“Hi,”

She looks past you two at the peacekeepers, “We’re going to go shower her in private.”

“We have strict orders.”

“Then stand outside the bathroom door.” Laurel tells him, then she looks at you, “Let’s go.”

You follow them to the back half of the apartment. And to your surprise, she doesn’t turn right, to where your bedroom is. She goes left.

The doors open, and the peacekeepers decide to stand outside the bedroom door instead, which is good enough for you guys. All of you get into the room, and then the metal door shuts. This one is not see-through like all the others that you’ve seen so far.

Cleo moves to take down your hair, as Laurel and Elysia want to pull the shirt over your head. You tell them that you just got stitches, which is when they pause. Beth finds a pair of a scissors in the bathroom, and they cut the fabric instead.

Cleo, Leo and Beth decide to stay in the room after that, while Laurel and Elysia bring you to the shower. You sit on the floor as Laurel washes your hair.

“Have you seen Mags at all?” you ask, “Annie, Peeta, Johanna?”

“When’s the last you saw them?” Elysia asks.

“I saw Johanna when I first woke up, and then Peeta shortly after. I know Mags and Annie are here because…” you close your eyes, “I heard Mags screaming, at least, there’s a difference between her and Johanna… and then Mags eventually went quiet--I think they’ve killed her.”

It’s quiet, and then Laurel speaks, “Well, I can tell you we’ve seen Peeta.”

You sit up a little bit, “You have? How is he?”

“He was… fine in his first interview.” Elysia gets out slowly, “But the most recent one has been bad.”

“Bad how?”

“Tired, skinny, tortured.”

You hate the Capitol.

When you finally stand to wash the blood off, the water runs red. Elysia has to step away while it happens, and you tell Laurel she can take a moment too. Not sure if that look on her face was queasiness or not. She doesn’t take the chance, and instead apologizes that you’re going through this.

After the shower, you’re dried off. Cleo does your hair while Beth and Leo wax your legs and armpits. There’s no time for a second shower, and you quickly find out that Leo isn’t allowed to put makeup on you either.

“Why?” you ask, “Why are you guys allowed to go through the trouble of waxing, and cleaning, and doing my hair only for you not to do my makeup?”

“They want you to look like you do now.” Elysia tells you, “Here, look in the mirror and tell me what you see.”

She wipes down the foggy mirror with a towel, and you can’t help but to stumble back at the sight of who is reflected. That girl standing in the mirror looks nothing like you, but at the same time, it does.

She’s skinny. You can see the places where her skin has sunken in, revealing more bones. You’re able to see her ribs, and her collarbones stick out painfully. Her face is much skinnier, and her cheekbones pop out a bit more. There’s purple bruises covering her skin, and you can see the places where the whip went over her shoulder.

Her skin has lost color. Her eyes are purple circles, there’s cuts and bruises and the shadows don’t compliment her anymore. She looks nothing like you, but she is you. And you’re going to appear in front of the Capitol, and presumably the districts too.

Finnick will be able to see you like this.

This is the first time he’ll be able to see you, and you’re going to look tired and malnourished. When you twist your body to the side, you wince. The bump is obvious now that the weight has dropped considerably. Anyone watching will be able to tell that you’re pregnant.

“Why can’t Peeta appear again?”

“I don’t know.” Laurel tells you, “Maybe they’re giving him a break.”

“There are no breaks.” you tell her, “There are never breaks. It has to be something else.”

You spend the last of the time thinking over this. Why would you appear instead of Peeta?

But the first mystery to solve is Peeta first. He’s here instead of Katniss, so he has to suffer in some way too, right? Even though Katniss and Peeta being in love was an act, you can remember the way that Peeta had protected Katniss. And Katniss had protected him right back.

So, they’re using Peeta as torture to her? Does that make sense? They’re trying to make the rebellion stop, but the only way they can do that is if Katniss stops, right? And if she won’t do it, then Snow has to force her hand and make her see that her actions have consequences.

Yes, that makes sense. Seeing Peeta be hurt is like leverage. They’re almost trying to convince her to change her mind. She stops, they stop. Only, they won’t. They’ll continue hurting Peeta for as long as it takes, because Snow is just like that.

It’s funny how you haven’t seen any of these interviews just yet, and they’re planning to throw you into one.

Anyway, you being up there instead of him. Weird, but not completely unusual, you suppose. Your theory, and the only theory you have is building off of the last one and the hurting Katniss. Since she didn’t budge when it came to giving up the revolution, that means they have to turn to you.

Because not all of her actions affect just her, they can hurt you too. They hurt Johanna, Annie and it hurt Mags. There’s a great possibility that you’re going up tonight to spark something inside of Finnick. This will be a test to see if he will try and force Katniss’ hand to give it up.

The only problem with that is that he was on the front lines when it came to getting Katniss out of the arena. You hope that since he’s come this far, that he won’t just give it all up for you. And you also hope that Katniss’ stubbornness doesn’t waver just because you’re on screen and she’s suddenly feeling empathy towards Finnick.

They finally have you step into the dress. It’s white, and lacy. It’s thin-strapped and the top part of it is a deep v-neck. The plunge goes all the way to your high ribs, where the connecting part is. The bottom half goes to about mid-thigh and a little bit higher. Following the dress is the whiet flats that are given to you.

They slide silver bracelets onto your slim wrists. White necklaces, and diamond earrings you think. Anything that resembles the color white, and makes you look like you belong to the Capitol.

“They’ve allowed highlight.” Leo comes into the room, pulling out a brush and a ‘pallette’ for a lack of a better word.

He applies it to your nose, and your cheeks and a little bit to your forehead.

When you look in the mirror again, with the whole completed look, the first word that comes to mind is ‘pet’ and the one that follows is ‘disgusting’.

“I look like a monster.” you tell them.

“We know.” Cleo says, “It’s what he wants.”

“You have a vague outline of a script,” Elysia hands over the paper, “Don’t go off track, no matter how tempting, please.”

“That’s for your own safety.” Laurel says.

You nod, looking down at it, “Caesar’s interviewing me?”

“Who else did you expect?”

You shrug, looking over the paper as you guys leave the room. Outside, the peacekeepers have doubled, and Elysia, and the others aren’t allowed to follow you. You want to say goodbye, but when they start yanking, you stop resisting.

They take you into the elevator, and you guys go down for a little bit, and then you step out and they take you to a room you’ve never been in before. The room is bright, there’s lights shining onto two chairs. Caesar sits in one of them, he looks calm, and like he did before the games.

There’s a few cameras around that are pointed at the seats. Everyone turns to see who’s come into the room, and there’s a lot of eyes on you all at once.

“(Y/n),” Caesar smiles, standing up and going to give you a hug.

You jump back, holding your hands out while shaking your head, “No, you don’t get to hug me. I’m not an old friend, not anymore.”

This doesn’t ruin his spirit, he holds out his hand towards the chair, and you’re sure to keep as much distance as you can get between you and him as you sit in the chair. This is when people come in and readjust the way you sit. This one particular girl comes in and continues to remind you to keep your chin up so that they’ll be able to see your face clearly.

You cross your legs, sitting back comfortably but tall. You’re reminded to smile every now and then, but they’re not forcing that on you. When you can’t seem to keep your head up, the same lady snaps her fingers and demands the choker. As soon as you see what she’s talking about, you tell her that you’ll be better about it.

It’s a choker alright, and there’s a pointed area on it. Specifically designed to stab you each time your head falls too low. You make a point to keep your chin up a little higher after that.

You’re allowed to read over the basics of what you’re supposed to say, there is no particular rush. You try to focus on what you’ll be saying, but figure it’s pointless as soon as you’re distracted by the fact that several people are staring at you. You toss the paper aside, literally, and tell them you’re ready to start.

The lady comes back with a white rose that reeks of perfume, and tells you to keep it in your hands. After that, she gets behind the camera with everyone else, and they countdown.

Caesar introduces what you guys will be talking about, which is the rebellion. But he doesn’t call that, he calls it an ‘upbringing’. It’s almost like he has certain keywords he’s not allowed to use. As if Snow doesn’t see this as a rebellion, but a little bit of resistance. And in that case, Snow is blind and you hope that this blows up in his pathetic fucking face.

Cameras aren’t on you just yet, they’re mostly focused on Caesar, “But today we have a very special guest. Someone who we haven’t spoken to just yet.”

You raise your head a little bit, but make no move for a smile. Your eyes bore into Caesar's face with hatred. Even if you were to force a smile, it would look like you’re pissed. Because you are. You’re about to be shown off to the entire country while you look like shit.

You move to cover your belly, hoping that won’t draw more attention to it.

“Today we’re here with (Y/n) Odair.”

Funny way to introduce you, as Finnick’s wife rather than Gallows, which they’ve been using this entire time. You did end up taking Finnick’s last name, hoping to escape the truth of yours. And it had worked, no one used Gallows unless they were addressing your siblings.

But the Capitol still insists to tie you back to it. Like you’ll never be able to run away from it. However, this one time they need to introduce you as an Odair, to appeal back to Finnick. To catch Finnick’s eyes and ears and draw him in that much further.

“It’s been a while since I’ve heard that last name,” you try to be light, but your tone is anything but joking. Caesar laughs anyway, trying to be charismatic as usual, but he is no nice guy to you.

“Yes, since we usually call you by your last name. Which is quite unique, don’t you think?”

You nod, “I like Finnick’s a lot better, though.”

“I bet that’s true,” he laughs, “Now, onto the more important topic. You know that Finnick and Katniss reside inside of District Thirteen, don’t you?”

You didn’t, “What about it?”

“So straightforward!” he doesn’t laugh this time, “It must have been heartbreaking when they took Finnick out instead of you, wasn’t it? You were so close to them, and yet they decided to just leave you there, especially when you’re--” he motions slightly, mostly at your stomach, “--pregnant.”

This motherfucker.

You raise your head back up, tilting it a little bit. So much for confidentiality, now the whole nation knows.

“It wasn’t his fault,” you begin, sitting up in your seat again but making sure that your legs stay crossed, “I kept it from him, I kept it from everyone except for one person. So, he can’t be blamed for not being able to catch me when I did try to get to him. He did his best, and I don’t hold that against him. It’s my fault that I didn’t make it there in time.”

“Who else did you end up telling?” he asks.

This is nowhere near the script, the whole pregnancy thing wasn’t on the script, the asshole. It’s Caesar, you suppose he doesn’t have to follow anything that he doesn’t want to. But either way, this wasn’t planned. They want your raw reaction.

“Haymitch Abernathy.”

Caesar laughs, “You entrusted a drunk with that information?”

“Haymitch is reliable. He’s consistent--besides being drunk. He’s smart, and I’ve known him since I won my games. I knew I could trust him with that information, and I hope that he’s already passed on the ultrasound pictures along with the note that I had for Finnick, already.”

They don’t know about any of this. They won’t know what’s on the note, and they can try to get to the doctor, but she doesn’t know either. They can fucking interrogate you until they’re blue in the face and you wouldn’t care. Because the note is worthless, it’ll further them in no way.

“And if this is the first Finnick’s hearing about the note and pictures, Haymitch will give it up soon enough. After all, I did give him very specific instructions.” you switch the legs that are crossed, twisting the flower in your fingers, “Anything else?”

“Yes, plenty more,” Caesar sits up in his seat now, “I must ask, how you feel about what’s going on. You do know that Katniss is to blame for all of this, right?”

He’s a moron, “No, she’s not. She had no idea what was going on.”

“But now she does,” he reasons, “You’ve seen the videos that they project, interrupting interviews like the one I had with Peeta last week?”

It was that long ago?

Peeta has had two interviews, and they’re either several days apart, or they’re a week apart. Which means that you have been in the Capitol for almost three weeks. Or maybe four, if you are going by the week intervals. If you’re going by days, then it might be two or three.

“No, I haven’t,” you’re bitter, “I haven’t had any connection with the outside, much less been allowed to watch broadcasting. I have no idea what you’ve spoken about with Peeta, or the things that District Thirteen may or may not have shown.”

“I’m sure they’ll show you later--”

Static suddenly fills the room, but the beginning of it sounds exactly like a whip. You flinch, covering your head with your arms and you stay like that until you can get your heart to calm down. You want to place your head between your knees and just stay like that until this is over, but it doesn’t happen.

“(Y/n)?”

Your head raises as you look to the screen behind the camera. There, you can see Finnick’s face. Covered in tears, cheeks red from crying. There’s hope in his eyes, he wants you to see him, and he’s gotten his wish.

They have timed this perfectly.

“Finnick.”

He’s gone as quick as he’s come, but it’s enough for you. Some guy behind the camera tells you guys that it’s under control and that there shouldn’t be any more interruptions.

“It’s time we wrap this up,” Caesar says, “Is there anything you want to say to the districts that are watching?”

From behind the camera that’s pointed towards both you and Finnick, someone holds up the cards that you had tossed. They want you to tell everyone to quiet down and quit it. The only problem is that they don’t listen to you, they listen to Katniss.

You look at the camera, “To the districts that are still active--” there’s no way that some of them have made it out of this completely functional, “And District Thirteen, I would advise you to think your actions through thoroughly. Your actions have consequences. If you move, then the Capitol will move right back.

“Be strategic. Stay safe. Stand strong.” They don’t look happy with your message, and you see they go to cut the cameras. Your words will already get you in trouble, you might as well jump into the deep end now, “Finnick, I know you’re watching this now. I love you, and I miss you. Don’t be afraid, you’re safe right where you are--” you can see the peacekeepers coming at you, and you keep your eyes glued to them, “Don’t worry about me, Finn. I can take care of myself.”

They step into the picture, moving around Caesar, and this is when you decide to drop the ladylike act. You kick the groin of the closest one to the door, jumping out of your seat. They all make a grab for you, but you shove the camera away from you hastily, slipping past all their fingers.

You take off down the hallway, and you can hear the boots of every peacekeeper in the vicinity behind you. You try to remember what you can about these halls, and soon enough you find the fire escape staircase.

You go to yank the door open and head down, but you slam right into a different peacekeeper that was waiting on the other side. The ones behind you yank you back, away from the staircase. Their grips are hard, and they drag you behind them.

You should have gone for the elevator.

-- Chapter Thirteen --

They took it too far after the interview. They were so upset with what you had done, that they took the ‘actions have consequences’ comment and threw it back into your face and spit in it too. They took everything you had said and turned it against you, to show you that they’re still in power.

Actions do have consequences. And because you told them to stay strong and stand tall, they had to tear you down in retaliation. They can’t let you be confident for too long, they wanted to rip down everything you had built in the last couple of hours. And they wanted you to sit and wallow in it.

They strapped you back against the chair, and instead of injecting tracker jacker poison like you expected, they did something much worse. It made the whippings, starvation and tracker jacker poison look like child's play. Like a warm up to the real nightmare that stood behind.

They wanted you to get used to everything else, so when they finally pulled this move on you, it would do some real damage. And congratulations to them, because the tears still haven’t stopped, even though you’ve got a pounding headache. Your throat is raw from the initial screaming, your face stings each time a new tear falls, and you’re so damn thirsty.

Every time you close your eyes, you see it all over again. The doors to this room aren’t see-through. There was no warning that this was coming, not that a warning would have done much anyway. It’s still a gunshot to the head, with warning or without. There’s no way you can tell someone that they just killed a different person because of what they said.

And you wouldn’t change a goddamn thing you had said on that broadcast. It was live, they got to see you kick the peacekeeper and make a dash for the door live. It’s okay with you, because they know that you still had fight left in you. You might have looked like shit, with all that weight gone, and little to no muscle, but you came through.

Now, there’s not so much fight, though. You’re exhausted, they haven’t let you sleep just yet. They’ve fed you since the interview, they’re at least consistent with that schedule. You have a feeling that they’re not exactly doing it for you, though. They’re mostly doing it for the baby that you’re carrying.

It’s not like they’re really making a difference. They still give you tracker jacker poison, and they don’t lessen the doses when you tell them just how dangerous it is for him. They laugh in your face, and they tell you to keep your fucking mouth shut. And at this point, you’re willing to give in, as long as no one else has to die because of your actions.

They came in here, with one hand on each of her arms, and tossed her into the room with you, and then left. Not a single word on what was happening, they didn’t tell you that she was already dead. They just threw her in and left.

Mags’ dead body still lays in front of the door. Her head isn’t turned towards you, thank god. But you can still imagine the look of milky white dead eyes. You hope that they’re not open, and they at least closed them to give her rest. She didn’t deserve what they did to her.

And it couldn’t have been good. She can’t speak well, so she can’t tell them that she didn’t have information to hand over. But of course they had to have assumed that since you and Finnick had a hand in the arena falling apart, that she would have some idea about what had been going on.

You and Finnick had already discussed keeping it from her because you didn’t want her to get involved for this exact reason. In case you guys were caught, and she would be dragged into it. You thought it would be for her safety, but it turned out to be the reason why she’s dead.

There’s a small pool of blood around the space where her head had cracked from hitting the tile when they threw her in. At that time, you had thought that she was still alive and you begged for someone to come in and save her. But a couple of hours later, you’d see that her chest wasn’t moving at all, and realize that she was dead all this time.

It just made the tears come a little harder. Your screams and pleas had fizzled out to nothing, and instead you cried in silence. Your fight against the restraints had stopped and you slid down in the chair in defeat. Eyes shut, head turned away from the camera and away from her as you wished that none of this was happening again.

You didn’t even get to say goodbye. You didn’t get to tell her how sorry you are for all of this. You didn’t get to apologize for holding secrets and for shutting her out like that so suddenly. You didn’t get to apologize for not thinking about her feelings first, and being so selfish like you always are.

You didn’t get to apologize for getting her killed. The last time you two had talked was the day you decided that you didn’t want to be in an alliance with Finnick anymore. The only time you guys had communicated after that was in the arena when she sent that sword in, and even then, that was a gift from Laurel. She had told you when she was showering you, that it was an expensive gift, and she kept her promise.

You couldn’t have cared less who had gifted you that knife. Or why she had done it, or why she picked her timing and all of that bullshit. You care now about making sure that they aren’t the next people that are hurt. You hope that Snow will take mercy upon his own citizens and not try to kill them or torture them to get back at you.

And that can go the same for your family too. Because there’s no doubt that he has his hands on them. If Annie wasn’t saved from District Four, then that means that neither was Reed, or Mox or Alyssum. Snow probably grabbed them while he could.

It’s sick to say, but you’re just glad that he hadn’t tossed in your older brothers as punishment for what you did. You can imagine that’s what will happen next, though. If you’re not compliant for the rest of your stay here. If you try and resist, then they will toss in your brothers, or your sister.

Then you will have much darker blood on your hands. Your own family will be at the fault of your actions.

The door opens, and there stands peacekeepers. The lady from the interview comes in with a cart too. You watch as the peacekeepers grab Mags by the ankles and drag her out of the room. Her gray hair has turned a shade of red from soaking in the blood for the past few days.

She leaves a trail of red behind her. They walk out of sight, so you then look to the lady standing at the cart.

“Snow is giving you a second chance.” she tells you, “Don’t fuck this up.”

“Why?” you ask, leaning forward, “What for?”

She doesn’t answer your question, and you can’t answer it either. What would be the benefit of seeing you live? You’re no one interesting, you’ve been out of the eyes of the Capitol and the districts for a while now. Back when you had won you were relevant, but that was all because of Finnick.

An avox comes into the room and the doors shut behind him. He comes over to you, undoes the restraints, and then motions to the cart. There would be no reason to shower you off, you guess. You’re not covered in blood like you were last time. You were whipped last night, but they had quite literally hosed you off instantly after.

The cold water was painful in your wounds. Since they felt white hot, and that water felt like it came straight from a stream in winter. The two conflicting temperatures had just made the entire wound feel like it was on fire. They took notes of this, you know it. They love being able to hurt you.

You step around the blood, the avox turns away as you pull on the new baby pink dress. It’s black flats this time, and there’s no jewelry. You haven’t seen your mother’s ring in weeks, and it’s starting to worry you on what they did to it. Finnick could throw his away without guilt because it wasn’t attached to either of your parents.

However, yours is important. It’s the last thing that you have of hers. You don’t have her dresses, or her necklaces and other rings. That one engagement and later her wedding ring, is all you have of her. And since it was with her every single day, even after your father had passed, you want it back. You want it to be with you.

You should have asked Laurel or Elysia if they had seen it at all.

You pull your hair into a ponytail, not knowing if it’s smooth or not. It won’t matter to them, though.

Once you’re dressed, the avox goes and knocks on the door. The peacekeepers come in, and they handcuff your arms behind your back. You stare at the blood streak that leads down the hallway absently. There is no struggle and they don’t know this. You’ve kicked, and screamed and tried to bite them, and last time you ran.

For all they care, you’re going to try it again. Which is why they grab your ankles and walk you to the elevator. Your head falls back as you look off to the side, and you can see someone being moved rooms. It’s only when they resist, and you hear them shout when you see it’s Johanna.

“Jo--” you go to yell, but the peacekeeper is quick to shut you up.

She looks over anyway, shaking her head at you, and then she’s pulled into the room. She’s been through a lot more than you have. She’s just as starved as you are, her hair is shaved off, and she’s got scabs everywhere. She looked wet, so you’re guessing they’ve been using water against her.

Whatever works, you guess. You get whippings, and cuts and she gets drowned in water over and over. You wonder what Peeta has to endure. You wonder what Annie is getting, if she is. You haven’t heard her scream at all, while the other two on the other hand… when you’re not yelling for help or begging them to stop, they are.

You’re brought right back to the room from before. They release you from the handcuffs long enough to put them in front of you instead. The lady puts the white choker on your neck.

“Behave.” she warns you, and then she cocks her head to the side.

At the sight of the same man that gives you whippings, you nearly trip over your feet trying to get away from him. One of the peacekeepers catch you by your arm, but you’re still trying to get out of the room. Tears cloud your eyes once again as you shake your head desperately.

“I can’t do this--I can’t do this, please,” your voice breaks, “Don’t make me do this.”

“All you have to do is tell the districts to stop fighting, (Y/n).” Caesar tells you, “Ask Katniss and District Thirteen to stop this, and you can go back to your room.”

“Fail to do this and the next person that gets hurt is family.” the man tells you.

You flinch against the wall when you see the coiled whip in his hand. Just for his own pleasure, you watch as he lets it fall to the ground. You try to put your head down and sink to your knees but two things stop you. First is the choker, forcing you to keep your head up, while the peacekeeper yanks you back up to where you need to be.

“Are you going to cooperate?” she asks.

You blink the tears from your eyes and you want to shake your head but the dangerous look in the man’s eye tells you that he won’t hesitate to do it right here in front of everyone. And he won’t stop until you agree and get the lines right.

“Yes,” your voice is different, it doesn’t even sound like yours, “Yes I’ll ask for a cease fire.”

“Good.” the man says, and then he motions towards the chair.

You’re careful when you walk over, and you notice how peacekeepers stand in front of the door. And the woman behind the camera nods at the guy who’s in charge of the broadcast.

The guy with the whip plays with it slightly, a smile on his face as he locks eyes with you. There’s a countdown, and you don’t pay attention to it much, too afraid that if you tear your eyes away from him, that he’ll hit you with it.

Caesar’s voice scares you when he does start speaking, and you place your hand against your chest to settle yourself.

He doesn’t fuck around with telling them that you’re back and you want to tell them all something. He says something along the lines of ‘she’s been begging to appear again for this’ and then the cameras turn to you.

You swallow thickly, your eyes flickering to the whip, “End this, please. It’s not just you guys who are being affected anymore, it’s us too. What I said last time was wrong, putting down your weapons now is your best chance.

“It won’t be easy, but Panem can be put back together. Snow is willing to forgive the districts that give up quicker. But those who resist…” you trail off, head dipping slightly as you try to pick up on your train of thought.

The choker stabs you, and it makes your head jolt up.

“What happens to those who resist, (Y/n)?” Caesar asks.

You look at him with wide eyes, and then back to the camera, “They’ll all be killed. Every single one of you will be killed because you’re not--you’re not--” you shake your head, “You’re ruining the nation.”

There’s a snap, which makes you jump. A sob leaves you suddenly as you cover your mouth from being startled like that. You want them to cut the cameras, to finally let you go again, but the lady is snapping more and motioning for you to keep going. You can’t help but to curl in on yourself.

“I beg you to put down your weapons,” you sob, “Please, for us. For the people you’ll end up--”

The power then suddenly cuts, and you’re all left in darkness. You’re not sure if it’s relief or terror, but your sobs are louder and you pull your knees to your chest. You collapse in on yourself as the camera crew tries to figure out what’s happening.

Placing your head on your knees, you shake your head, “I want to go home. I want my family back. I want my life back, please.”

They take you back to your room, get you into the chair and leave. You know you’ve done your job well enough when there's silence in the entire building for a long time, and no one comes for you.

You slam your head against the headrest, though.

You can’t imagine what they’re thinking.

-- Chapter Fourteen --

They come in, they feed you, and they leave. They come in, take you to the bathroom, and they leave. They don’t speak, they don’t release you, they don’t torture you. They come in, they do what they have to do, and they leave the room until they need to come in again.

It’s always been avoxes. It’s not like they can speak anyway, but they don’t answer questions at all. They come in, do what they have to, and leave the room without another thought to it. Sometimes they’ll come in with medical equipment to take your temperature and test your reflexes, and only once have they actually used an ultrasound machine.

The baby is healthy, his heart is beating strong. Your bump is pretty prominent now, seeing as it’s been a few weeks. You’re four and a half months in, maybe. You don’t know how long you’ve been in the Capitol for. All you know is that you lost track of time a while ago.

You were three and a half weeks when you first found out, spent a week in the Capitol and two days inside of the arena, so that’s another week, right? And it’s been at least two, maybe three weeks since you’ve been here. Which levels it out to four and a half months, maybe a little less or a little more.

It feels like you’ve been here an eternity. The days begin to blend together when you’re doing the same thing everyday. When you’re not allowed to sleep or see the outside. The only time you get a hint of when it might be night time is when there’s an absence of doctors. But even then, there’s always people coming to check in on you.

Two hour intervals is what you heard. The avoxes come in every two hours to either feed you or take you to the bathroom, and then they leave. And in that case, you’ll never get to figure out when it’s day and when it’s night. You sleep when you can, which has been all the time for this past day.

Ever since the lights went out yesterday, it’s been particularly quiet. You overheard that it was the entire Capitol, and it wasn’t just this building. There’s still a little bit of power circulating, but it has to be directed to one place at a time. This means that something had happened to District Five.

They’re in charge of the power. It’s funny, how you were just telling them to lay down their weapons, and they made a move like they did. It’s a great way to say ‘fuck you’ but you can imagine that it was pre-planned. Your appearance was literally perfect timing.

Shortly after you came back to the room, Peeta went out though. You could hear him in front of your door, asking to not be put on air. Which is also weird that they went from you to him so quickly. In the same exact day.

You’re not sure what time he had returned, because you haven’t heard him talking at all. He might have said something he wasn’t supposed to inside of the room that got him in trouble, but there’s no way for you to tell. There’s nothing in this room besides a chair, and a camera.

No tv to see what is and isn’t broadcasted. You can’t see what they use Peeta for, and you can’t see how the districts respond. If you ever get out of here, you’ll have a lot to catch up on.

You close your eyes, wishing that the lights overhead were automatic so you’d finally be able to sleep in the dark again. But as your head falls and turns away from the light, it’s dark enough for you to doze off again.

—

The arena is dark when you open your eyes. The ground is damp, and you look to the sky to see that it’s night. The moon is the first thing you notice. It’s full, a sign of something new, change.

Even though it’s night, and not easy to see, you can catch the dark clouds still swarming the sky. It’s just rained, and by the way that the clouds are moving, and the rumbling of thunder with no lightning, it’s not finished just yet.

You push yourself off of the grass that you were laying in. You notice how you’re not soaked, but completely dry. You still wipe off the grass and clovers that have stuck your outfit when you stand.

Looking around, you squint, looking for something. Any sign of where you are, or how you got here. It isn’t until you hear the sound of rushing water, when you turn towards where it’s coming from.

You start towards it, tucking your hair behind your ears as you get closer. The sound of rain makes you cover your eyes with your hand. There is no water that falls from the sky, but you can still feel the pelting against your jacket.

You stop when you get to the sand, and you drop your hands to your sides too. Staring off into the water, your shoulders slump slightly. What is it that you’re looking for?

“You know—“ the familiar voice starts, you jump three feet into the air at the break of the silence. You spin around to see the dark haired boy you’d been searching for, “I made an effort to sit by you when you woke up, and you still wandered here.”

“Blaire!” You laugh, heading towards him.

He takes your hug in gratefully, but you can’t press your body against his much. Confused, you look down to see what’s between you, and it’s the baby bump. It’s made its way here after all.

“Congrats, again.” He motions, tilting his head slightly, “A boy, was it?”

“Yeah,” you press your hand against the bump, rubbing it slightly, “I’m happy it isn’t a girl that’s first.”

He raises his eyebrows at you, “Huh., and why's that?”

Blaire moves past you, going to sit on the wet sand. You follow behind him, taking your time, “Well, it’s tradition in my family that it’s a boy first so they can look after everyone that follows.”

“Bogus tradition to me.” He helps you sit, “I had an older sister.”

“You can’t tell me she didn’t look after you,” you look at him disapprovingly, and he has a smile.

“She did, you’re right.”

“I know.” You smile back at him.

He sighs suddenly, drawing a picture in the sand. You stare out into the water, a little amazed by how the moon reflects off the water. You’ve seen it before, of course. But it’s still cool to see every time.

“Well, let’s cut to the chase, because we both know you won’t be here long.” He says, you can see him glance up at you, but you don’t look at him, “What’s going on?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

He laughs, “Now that is new! Do I get to talk about my problems for once?”

“You have none.” You remind him, “What would you even have to complain about? You’re dead, you don’t have to live through mounds of shit anymore.”

Blaire frowns, “You do need to talk it out.”

You shake your head, pulling your legs in so you’re sitting criss-crossed, “Blaire, just this once I need to keep it to myself.”

“That’s not why you’re here,” he tells you, and you know he’s right, “You come here when things are overwhelming. You come here to talk to me instead of literally anyone else because you’re afraid of being a burden.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m right, you know that I’m right.”

“I don’t want you to be right,” you say, “I, for once, want to come here without a single worry in the world and enjoy everything that goes on here.”

He laughs, “Do you see the place? It’s been storming for several days straight, the pond-lake is about to flood!”

“It’s already flooding.”

“Just tell me what’s happening so you can go back to Finnick, or the games. Whatever it is.”

“The games have been over for weeks,” you shake your head, “It lasted two days.”

“What?” He asks, you finally look at him.

“The rebellion has started. I’m being held captive in the Capitol while Finnick sits in District Thirteen.”

“Wait, slow down. Rebellion?” He asks, and you nod, “And thirteen was destroyed—“

“Apparently not.” You look at the sand to see the picture he’s drawn. It’s a clock, “Why did you draw that?”

“Huh?” He looks down to see what you’re talking about, “I don’t know.”

You shake your head, rubbing your temples when a sudden headache comes on, “They’ve been torturing me the entire time. I’m surprised I’m not as skinny as I am out there.”

When there is no response to him, you look over to check to make sure that he’s okay. A scream leaves your mouth almost immediately when you see Finnick instead of Blaire.

He holds a whip in his hands, “Hi.”

“Finnick—“ you start, “No, you can’t be here--this is my safe place.”

It uncoils--

--

“Hello? Missus Odair?”

You jolt awake, pushing the pair of hands away from you. It’s bright in the room, white, you blink quickly, trying to get your eyes adjusted quicker. Being woken up from a dream turned a nightmare isn’t easy.

“Huh?” you ask, squinting because it still stings your eyes, but you can see the people in front of you.

Black, dressed in all black with helmets and guns. They stare at you hesitantly, almost as if you’re going to snap.

“What’s going on?” you want to move away from them, but they’ve almost got you surrounded on this chair.

“This is a rescue mission,” one of them tells you, “We’re from District Thirteen, we’re here to get you out of the Capitol.”

“Oh,” you say, nodding a little bit. You notice how you’re not strapped to the chair, but there’s still purple and red marks on your wrists, “Okay, did you get Peeta, Johanna and Annie?”

A different one smiles, “Yes we did.”

“Okay,” you say again, carefully getting out of the seat. Your legs are sore, and you wobble a little bit, “This isn’t a hallucination? This is real?”

“Yes, it’s real.” he tells you.

They help you stand for a moment while you come to terms with your surroundings. This is not the same room that you fell asleep in, it’s completely different. The hallway in front of you looks nothing like the other one.

You notice the cart off to the left, and head straight for it, curious on what the Capitol is giving back to you. You nearly cry when you see your wedding rings. Yours and Finnick's sit on this trolley. You turn back to the men.

“Sorry, can one of you hold onto these?” you ask, and they take them, “Don’t lose them, they’re our wedding bands.”

And then you turn back to unveil what’s sitting underneath a silk white cloth. You pull it out carefully to see that it’s the knife from the games. Either they’re teasing you, saying that you can’t escape what you came from, that all of this will stay with you, whether you like it or not. Or it’s a gift.

It was from Laurel and Mags. You pick it up and hold it to your chest and turn back to the other two that stare at you warily, “I’m ready to go now.”

They usher you into the hallway with the others. The second you step in, Annie has thrown herself at you for a hug. You hold onto her tightly, telling her that everything will be okay now.

Johanna laughs at the knife, “Still playing pretend?”

“Mags is dead,” is all you say back to her, and it’s enough to get her to knock it off.

They lead you out the way they came in. You pass by the rooms the others had been sitting in, as well as a bunch of cages in a single hallway. Annie asks what those could have possibly been used for, and your answer is ‘anything’. Avoxes, you guys, mutts, other unfortunate victors.

At some point they want to stop guiding Peeta the way they are, so you step in quickly. Johanna rolls her eyes at you, but you know she’s glad that you’re doing it for her. Peeta doesn’t jerk away like you expect him too, he’s mostly quiet and lets you do what you have to. Redirect him, sometimes your hand will drift up and down a little higher than you mean it to. You don’t even touch his back fully, it’s more of a hovering.

They get you to the courtyard, a place you haven’t been. And then that’s when they send wires down for them to reattach themselves. Peeta is the first that’s grabbed and starts to head up. You’re grabbed by some guy with dark brown hair who tells you to hold on tightly, and you do. Johanna and Annie follow back accordingly.

Once you guys are up and inside of the hovercraft, they shut the doors and begin to leave.

You lay against the floor, trying to ‘ground’ yourself--you’re in the air, above the Capitol--and tell yourself that you’re fine. This is the end of it, you’ll be home soon.

And then one of the people upfront finally say, “They’re online, their defense is online.”

-- Chapter Fifteen --

The hospital that they have set up in District Thirteen is much different than what they have back home in four, and what they had in the training center. Granted, it was a makeshift hospital in the training center, it was mainly used to torture you guys and it wasn’t meant for much more.

It’s not a pristine white in here, and you’re glad that it isn’t. The walls are blue, the floor is dirty from years of walking on it. The nurses and doctors are nice, and when you set down guidelines on what they can and can’t do, they told you that everything is up to you.

They had already checked your blood pressure, your temperature, your hearing and your reflexes to make sure that they were still in check. They did your hearing, your seeing and all while that was happening, checked up on the baby. They gave you an updated picture to stare at and keep you calm while they gave you some vaccinations.

When you all had arrived in here, Peeta was taken to a different room almost immediately, which makes sense. He looks the worst out of all of you, even though you and Johanna are pretty bad yourselves. The only lucky one out of this bunch has turned out to be Annie, and even then sitting inside that room without anyone to talk to had done a number on her.

“Get off of me!” Johanna protests, “Leave me alone for fuck’s sake--”

She tries to push off the people around her, but they’re just asking to take her blood pressure. At some point she had complained that she couldn’t breathe, so there’s a tube around her nose to make sure she can breathe just fine. It’s probably pissing her off that they’re all coming at different directions at one.

You would go over and tell them to get off of her, but she seems to have it handled. She’s her own person, she doesn’t need people to sit on top of her and dictate things for her. If the nurses won’t be as listening as yours are, then they’ll learn from all the mistakes they’re about to make from not leaving her be.

You look down at the picture again fondly. Running your finger over where his head is. Only a few more months now. The doctors tell you what you suspected. Four months and a week. You were off by some, but that doesn’t matter. You were so lost on everything that had happened out here, they can’t even blame you.

You said it on live tv. You told everyone that you were secluded and you weren’t allowed to know what was happening. But despite that they tried to get your opinion on things, which is funny. You’re still mad that you had showed up yesterday, at your lowest point you’ve been in a while.

The sound of the doors being pushed open and then a rapid pair of footsteps makes you look up. You flinch initially, going to cover your face, but you catch a glimpse of Katniss. Eyes searching for someone, her someone.

You settle, untensing your body as you try to go back to swinging your legs and focusing on anything but your back stinging, “(Y/n)?”

Your head shoots up, eyes landing on where the voice has come from. You slip off of the hospital bed, dropping the picture onto the bed as you take off towards him. Finnick meets you more than halfway, being careful not to slam into you too hard.

You squeeze him tightly, pressing your forehead against his chest. Tears start running from your eyes before you realize it, and you’re sobbing in his arms. He holds the back of your neck with one hand, and your back with another, “You’re okay. You’re okay.”

You laugh through the tears, “I know, and I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, please.” he says, “It’s not your fault.”

You pull away from him for a moment, so you can take in his face. There’s fresh tears on his cheeks, and they continue to build up in his eyes. You reach up, cupping his face in both hands as you bring him to your face. You take a moment, just staring at each other, and then he kisses you.

He holds onto you tightly, almost like he’s afraid that you’ll slip through his fingers if he lets go. And when you two pull away, he’s taking in a small breath before kissing you briefly. Finnick kisses your lips, your forehead, your cheeks, everywhere he can get.

You laugh, smoothing his hair back when he finally calms down, “I missed you.”

“I hope.” he laughs, “We have a lot to talk about.”

“I know.” you tell him, and then you pull away from him suddenly, remembering something very important.

“What?” he asks.

“My family? Where’s Reed, Mox and Alyssum? Are they here?”

Finnick’s face drops slightly, “No, they aren’t.”

You press your hand to Finnick’s chest, moving him out of the way slightly as you look for Haymitch, he had come in with Finnick and Katniss. Your hand begins to fall from Finnick’s chest, but he grabs it and holds it between his hands tightly, not letting you go without him.

You pull him along as you look for Haymitch. You come to a part of the hospital that breaks into another hallway, which is where you find him. Standing with Katniss, and the same dark haired man that’s holding onto your wedding rings and knife.

“Hey!” you call, Katniss looks over at the sound of your voice, and so does the man, “Can I have my things back, please?”

It looks like he remembers instantly, and he digs through his pockets. The first thing is the knife, which you take and eventually hand off to Finnick to hold for a moment. Then the man hands off the rings too.

“Thank you.” you tell him, “I won’t forget this.”

You slide your ring onto your left ring finger, noticing how it’s so loose now. Your fingers are a lot more slender than they were before. It’ll take a couple of weeks, maybe even months to build back up into a healthy body weight, but you look forward to it.

You stare at Finnick’s silver wedding ring for a moment, slowly moving it over to him. It’s in perfect condition. There’s scratches, of course. From the years of wear and tear, and it looks like it needs to be polished too. Otherwise, it looks as good as it’s supposed to.

“Oh,” Finnick’s voice is soft, and he slides it onto his ring finger, “So much better.”

You laugh, but turn and catch Haymitch before he goes, “We need to talk.”

“I’ll be out in a minute,” he tells you, and then he cocks his head towards the room that Katniss has disappeared into. You get on your toes to see better, and you catch the back of Peeta’s head.

“Yeah, that’s fine. Good luck.” you tell him, and he nods before going in with Katniss.

You and Finnick head back to where you were before, sitting at your bed. You have to move the second pair of ultrasound pictures for you to sit, and Finnick even helps a little bit. Once you're sat down, he passes over the knife, still checking out the handle.

“Hey--isn’t that the special ones from the Capitol? The souvenirs?”

“Yeah,” you laugh, turning it over in your hand a little bit, “It’s real too.”

“It can’t be--” Finnick starts.

Just to prove him wrong, you hold out your forearm and slide the blade along it. It stings a little bit, since you’re quite literally tearing your skin open, but just as you thought, blood starts running.

Finnick isn’t as amused, he grabs the white sheets on the bed and presses it to your new wound, “You didn’t have to--”

“Honey,” you shake your head at him, and he quiets down a little bit, “A cut like this is nothing compared to the healing wounds on my back.”

His face twists, “What?”

Before you can tell him, there’s a loud crash from the back hallway. You spin the knife in your hand, bringing it up as you flinch to protect yourself. Finnick is so incredibly lucky that your thumb had missed the button, because he would be speared right now.

“Hey--” Finnick takes the knife from your hand, placing it on the bed behind you, “You’re okay.”

More crashing, but Finnick doesn’t make a move to see what it is. He almost protects his body with yours. You take deep breaths for a second, and then you look over to Annie to see she’s staring at the floor. This would be you, you and her would have so much in common right now if it weren’t for Finnick.

You look down at the ultrasound pictures, “It's a boy.”

“I know.” he moves some hair out of your face, “It was a little cruel to get a picture and a note rather than you telling me face to face.”

“I didn’t want to come back with a baby bump and say ‘surprise’!” you laugh breathily.

“We need a stretcher!” a voice yells.

Finnick moves out of your way so you can see what’s happening. It’s a long moment before they come back with the person. You sit up a little more when you see that it’s Katniss.

“What happened?” you ask.

“Peeta.” the dark haired man says, “He tried to strangle her.”

You slump, shaking your head as you look down at the ground, “I should have warned you about that. They used tracker jacker venom on us. I guess I might have been a little more resilient.”

“You’re sure?” a local doctor asks.

You shrug, “I don’t see why he would hate Katniss so much besides that. It’s used to mess with the brain, I used to read about it.”

Finnick nods, and then he moves back over to block the view. He pulls you against his body for a hug. You wrap one of your arms around his waist, trying to make him feel like he’s being squeezed. Even if you had both arms, it wouldn’t be the same because of the bump.

You two sit there in silence for a while. He doesn’t say a word to you, and you don’t say anything back to him, because there’s nothing that needs to be said. You’re safe, you’re back with him. You’re in his arms, and you won’t be going anywhere for a very long time.

You’ll be able to take these next few weeks or months and just relax. You can get used to these people around you, and you can fit into their schedule somehow. You’re sure that you can be helpful with at least something. You didn’t train endlessly in the most useless things now to just be seen as a nobody.

You’re a jack of all trades. Just the same as Finnick is.

A nurse approaches you two, “You can go now, we’ve got all your information on record. Come back if you have any concerns.”

“You don’t need to watch her overnight?” Finnick seems worried.

You wouldn't be able to stay in this place overnight. It might not be blindingly white, and it’s no replica of what they had in the training center, but the two are still comparable. You wouldn’t be able to last more than a day in here without going absolutely insane.

“She’s healthy,” the nurse assures him, “She will be given specially portioned food to work her up to what we normally eat, and she should come back every couple of days to check up on the baby, but other than that, she would have no other need to be here.”

Finnick nods slowly, and before he can say anything else for you, you shake your head, “Actually, there is something. Can we go into a private room for it, though?”

“Of course, just give me a moment.” she tells you, and then disappears into the hallway.

“There’s something else?” he asks.

“You’ll see.” you assure him, getting off of the bed, taking the knife and handing it off to Finnick. The nurse comes back and shows you the way to the room. No windows, it’s at the end of the hall.

You don’t sit down for this, you wait until the door is shut and then you approach it like how you approach scared kids, “It’s no reason to freak out, it doesn’t hurt much. I just can’t see it for myself, and since we’re already here, you might as well check it out.”

“Okay,” she nods, and she’s probably not expecting what you do next.

You’re very careful with the way you take off the gown. Slowly, one by one, you take off the buttons. And then, you toss it to the bed. The stitches stretch mildly, and you hold in the hiss you want to let out, because it could be much, much worse.

You turn your back to them, tilting your head to the side slightly. You can hear someone gasp.

“Oh my god, (Y/n),” Finnick says, “How…?”

“They had to punish me somehow,” you say, listening as the nurse goes through the cabinets for some disinfectant or something, “for being involved. For telling you guys to stay strong. They thought that they could get me to calm the districts down. He wanted me to tell you guys that this isn’t what we need, that we’ll overthrow the balance.”

“I’m going to touch your back,” the nurse warns you.

“Do what you have to. They stitched me up so I wouldn’t bleed on camera.” you laugh bitterly, “I can imagine how nasty they might look.”

“Not the cleanest.” the nurse admits, “But they’ve been done by someone who has an idea on how to do it. I’m going to clean some of the blood and then disinfect the ones that look fresh.”

“Sounds good to me.”

Finnick comes in front of you, looking you over.

“How does it look with the bear mutt scars?” there’s a smile on your face, “Cool?”

He doesn’t find this funny, “This should have been checked out first.”

“I almost forgot about them.” you tell him, “Of course, I can feel the stitches each time I move but I don’t really acknowledge it anymore.” you dip your head down, tilting your head to the side so your neck cracks, “I know that they’re there, but unless I’m being actively whipped, then there’s no reason to think about them anymore. You should have seen me strapped to that chair--”

You stop suddenly, the smile on your face dropping off. You close your eyes, shaking your head, because you can feel it coming on. You don’t want to see it again.

But there she is, laying dead on the floor. Hair soaked in blood. The streak she left when she was dragged out of the room. How pale and lifeless her body was.

“(Y/n)?” Finnick sounds worried, he’s directing your chin up, trying to get you to look at him, but you’re lost, “Hey, you’re okay. Whatever it is, it’s okay.”

“It’s not,” you whisper, “It’s my fault.”

“Nothing is your fault.”

You suddenly focus on Finnick, and it’s the same moment that the nurse warns you about the stinging right before it happens. Fortunately for you, it’s not the same white hot pain that you had gotten from the whippings, but it has the same sting. Like a bad aftertaste.

“Stop!” you arch your back in, clenching your teeth at the sting, “Stop.”

It’s all too much. Seeing Mags dead on the floor and having a sting like that. It feels like punishment all over again.

“I’m sorry--”

“No, I’m fine.” you close your eyes, taking in a deep breath, “I’m fine, I was just surprised. Try again.”

She does, and this time you’re much more capable of taking it. You look to Finnick now, trying to steady yourself before you deliver the news. There should be a time and a place for things, but you have to tell him before you forget and he tries to mention it in a giddy moment.

“There’s this one this that is my fault,” you begin slowly, holding up your finger when Finnick tries to interject, “I’m not some saint, they had to make me pay after what I said to you guys.”

He waits patiently, and that look of innocence in your eyes is what pains you the most. Because he’s not ready for this.

“Finnick, they killed Mags.” you wait for your own tears to come but there are none. You watch Finnick’s face almost emotionless because you’ve cried all your tears. You screamed, you fought, you begged. You beat yourself up that entire fucking time, and you’re still tearing down your inner walls.

“They…” he looks confused, shaking his head.

“She was already dead when she was thrown in my room.” you tell him, “She wasn’t… I don’t think she suffered. She didn’t have any wounds from what I could see.”

Except the one on the back of her head, and that was because they had literally thrown her in like a ragdoll. She cracked her head on the floor, and continued to bleed until there was nothing left.

“I’m sorry.” you tell him, and then for the rest of the time, you bask in every sting, every pull at the wound, every single pain you could get out of it. Eventually you’re clenching your hands, and the cut on your arm has stopped bleeding.

Finnick looks so gone. He moves for a towel and holds it against where your arm is bleeding, but eventually you have to take over.

“You can go, Finnick.” you say, “You don’t have to be here, I can have someone else show me the room.”

“I--” he tries to tell you no, the words won’t come out, though.

You’re still here, protecting him as always. Like a shield, only you fail miserably at your job. At trying to make sure that he doesn’t feel like this. Worried, sad, lost, hopeless, angry. And yet, you take every single arrow to the heart and still pass on the information to him as it comes.

You’re the one that gives him the bad news. A grim reaper, and you just don’t stop.

You bite back the tears, feeling how swollen your throat is getting again, it won’t be long before you’re crying, “I’ll be fine. Go, grieve.”

Finnick looks like he wants to take the offer, but there must be something in your face that changes his mind, because he shakes his head. His face wipes completely clean, and his eyes are no longer innocent. He’s focused, determined. He wants to stay here, for you.

“You don’t have to be fine,” is what he tells you, “I’ve had my time of grieving, you’ve given me plenty of time. It’s your turn now, my love.”

The nurse finishes up in this moment, and she tells you that you’re free to go whenever. She tells you that you should remind the doctor or nurse you see next time you come in for the baby check up, since it’ll be on your record but they won’t ask unless you mention it.

And then she leaves the room to you and Finnick.

“I’ve cried my tears.”

“Stop being strong for once,” he says, cupping your face, “I can be that for you. It doesn’t have to be permanent, or it could be forever if you want. Because I’m here for you, just like you’ve been here for me. I know you think you owe me, but you don’t.” he pulls you in for a hug, only going around your neck because your back is completely exposed right now, “I love you. And I’ll never stop loving you for who you are. But you need to give yourself a break, for all of us.”

-- Chapter Sixteen --

Finnick pulls you tightly into his side, “It’s only for a few minutes.”

“I’m not bothered by the people, Finnick.” you mutter.

The entire place just seems to throw you off. You’re not bothered by the fact that they live underground, or that they all dress the same and eat the same, and have the same space for rooms, because that’s how it should be. Everyone has things distributed equally to avoid fighting.

However, that doesn’t always work, and some people are going to end up despising each other, whatever. Coin has things running as smoothly as she can, considering this place is just one big bunker. And there’s a bunker under this bunker. It’s weird, but you guess that’s how reinforcements work.

Anyway, you’re bothered by the fact that Katniss is still a teenager, and they’re using her as the face of their rebellion. The girl is sixteen or seventeen now, she’s still a child. Sure, the districts are looking to her for help, because it was her act of defiance, but at the same time, it’s completely bullshit.

She has no idea what she’s doing. Haymitch, Plutarch and Coin are using her as a pawn. Coin had set limitations and rules for getting you guys out of the training center when the first opportunity came. Finnick had to tell you all of this to catch you up on how things run, and since you haven’t looked at Coin the same.

It’s because District Thirteen was angry at Peeta for asking everyone who’s fueling the rebellion to stop. He wasn’t being tortured before that, but he was after, and they all still held that prejudice against him. And because Coin likes to keep her people happy, she didn’t necessarily agree with Katniss’ terms at first.

The fact that Katniss had to threaten Coin to get you guys out of there, pisses you the fuck off. If it weren’t for Katniss, then you wouldn’t have been out of there yesterday. If she hadn’t demanded that what you guys said while under control of the Capitol was forgiven and you would be treated as normal, then you would have something against you right now.

So many people would have a right to be angry at you for begging and pleading the same way that Peeta had.

Coin isn’t as perfect as she seems, and you can see right through it. She tries to put on the good guy act, but it still looks like it’s too tight for her. She’s not conforming to it well, there’s something else she’s after, and you’re not too thrilled to be the first to dig it up.

Coin walks up to the microphone, you pull Finnick into you a little tighter. People around you are clapping and cheering. You try to block most of it out.

“Good evening,” she begins, “Yesterday, I authorized a covert rescue mission inside the Capitol. I am pleased to announce that the victors have been liberated!”

The cheering and clapping around you resumes. You tilt your head and wince at the volume, Finnick presses a kiss to your forehead.

It reminds you of the train stations, and the tribute parades, and the interviews. The non-stop cheering that they gave because you were there to fight for their pleasure.

“Let this day mark a historic change, with the Mockingjay and the victors beside us, we have sent a clear message to the Capitol. That we will never again endure injustice.” more cheering, “Today, a day on which we reunite family--” she looks over to you and Finnick. You can feel Finnick lay his head on yours slightly, and you try to force a smile, “--friends, and loved ones.

“Let all of Panem come together. Not to battle for the amusement of the Capitol, but to join hands in this fight!” cheering, again, “Let today be the day we promise never to give up, never to give in, until we have made a new Panem. Where leaders are elected, not imposed upon us, and where the districts are free to share the fruits of their labors and not fight one another for scraps!

“This new Panem is on the horizon, but we must take it for ourselves. The road there leads through the sharp mountains and deep ravines of District Two.” Accurate, they’re the closest to the Capitol. And as you said before, it will be a hell of a rebellion because it will be impossible to fight over mountains like those. The Capitol is tucked away perfectly.

Coin continues, “There, in the heart of Panem's steepest mountain range lies the Capitol’s principal military facility. We can conquer this stronghold, because we are one people, one army, one voice, because today is our new beginning. Today, we have freed the victors. Tomorrow, Panem!”

She lifts her arm, and you almost cover your ears when you hear everyone erupting into cheering again. It’s overwhelming. You mess with Finnick’s wedding ring slightly, since you can’t wear your own. He doesn’t seem bothered by this, knowing that you need some sort of distraction.

The crowd then goes in sync for the cheer that District Thirteen. A hoo-rah sort of thing with their fists and shit. You and Finnick don’t do it, instead you two almost stick out like sore thumbs.

Soon, the crowd is dispersing, going back to where they need to be to continue their jobs and whatnot. You and Finnick have nowhere specific to be, and you’re going to take advantage of it.

“We need to see Haymitch,” you say, grabbing Finnick’s hand as you begin to pull him to the elevator.

“Why?” he asks, “Don’t you want to sit down and relax?”

“I can’t.” you tell him, “I can’t relax. I could hardly sleep last night.”

He laughs, “That explains a lot.”

You glare over your shoulder, “Just because we’re married doesn’t mean you don’t have to stop being a gentleman, dick. We’re going to see Haymitch to talk about Reed, Mox and Alyssum.”

In the elevator, you close the guard railing and Finnick presses the button. He knows this place a lot better than you do, he’s been here for a couple of weeks.

“Please tell me you’ve considered the fact that they’re not…” he doesn’t say the word.

“They weren’t in the Capitol.” you shake your head, “And they’re not here, so they have to be in District Four. If Snow could get his hands on Annie, then he could have gotten his hands on them too. Unless, he couldn’t.”

“Where else would they go?” he asks, “They would have checked Caspian’s house too.”

You smile, “Here’s the thing, my mom and dad had plenty of friends around the district. People who used to check up on us. I’m taking a bet that they’re hiding them right now.

“That lady that was in that broadcasting room with me said that my family was next.” you shake your head, “But they would have gone for them first. It’s exactly what they’ve done in the past. They killed your family, they killed Johanna’s family…”

It dawns on Finnick, “You’re right.”

“I know I am.”

The elevator stops, and Finnick pulls up the railing, and then takes your hand as he guides you around the floors to where Haymitch may or may not be. You ask about the control room, but he says that suggesting it to Haymitch first is the smartest move. Then you guys can go ahead and propose it to Plutarch, not Coin.

Of course, she runs this place, she’ll have to make all the decisions in the end, but you don’t want her in on the rough draft. When you propose it to her, you want to be ready to give her the information that she needs. Whatever that may end up being, you don’t know just yet.

You and Finnick stop outside a particular hospital room. He tells you to wait out in the hall for a moment while he goes in.

You know that your family could very well be dead already, and you’ll be going through all this trouble for nothing. But you try first and you’ll give up way, way later down the line. You stick to a plan, because being indecisive will get you nowhere.

There’s plenty of people that they could have gone with. Reed is smart, though, he wouldn’t have just gone with Caspian’s family. Everyone in the district knows that your families are close, connected. Even peacekeepers know this, so to go there would be an automatic bust.

It can’t be Annie’s family or Mags’ house, because again, you were seen around there all the time. Those houses had to have been searched up and down, along with Finnick’s. The peacekeepers take no chances, you bet that if you go back to your victor house, you’ll see that it’s ripped apart.

Broken glass, vases, cupboard doors ripped off the wood. Couches turned upside downs, beds ripped from their posts. Curtains would be ripped, floorboards pried, they wouldn’t leave anything unbroken. Their job would be to wreck it and make it obvious if anyone has been there.

The same goes for your old house. The tv is probably broken, the tub is moved from its place, the old mirror is shattered, your parents wardrobe is nothing but splinters. Anything and everything would be gone forever.

There’s probably a few fishermen that they might have gone to see. If Reed is smart, then he would have split up too. Reed would go one place, Mox would go to another, and Alyssum to a different place. More specifically, someplace where she feels most comfortable. Reed would probably let her pick, and then he would have gone to that person to make sure it’s okay.

Finnick comes out of the room with Haymitch and Plutarch.

You peek around them now, since you weren’t being nosy before. And just as you had suspected, it’s Katniss’ room. The doors behind her shut, and you focus on Haymitch and Plutarch. However, you’re suspicious again of Finnick because that took longer than it needed to.

“I have to ask your guys’ opinion that will eventually turn into a favor.”

“Okay,” Plutarch nods.

“As I’ve told everyone by now, my two brothers and sister aren’t in here or in the Capitol. I have a feeling that they’re still in District Four.”

Haymitch’s face twists, “Didn’t they grab Annie from your district?”

“They did, but I had made a few precautions before volunteering for the games. Granted, I didn’t know a rebellion would be happening, so I couldn’t tell them what to do in that case.” you vaguely motion with your hand, “But my oldest brother is smart, he would have gotten them somewhere safely.”

“It’s possible.” Plutarch says, “So what’s the favor?”

“Can you guess?” you ask, eyeing Finnick slightly when he starts to shift nervously, “I want to get in contact with a few people, and you have the resources to do that, don’t you?”

He makes a face, “I haven’t been able to talk to my associates in the Capitol in awhile.”

You pucker your lips for a moment, “Well, lucky for you, we’re talking about District Four, not the Capitol.”

“It’s dangerous,” Haymitch finally says.

You tilt your head, “Getting us out of the Capitol was dangerous. What I’m asking, is a few phone calls.”

“That would escalate to getting them out, right?” Plutarch asks.

“No,” you tell him, “If they’re alive and safe, then I am completely fine with leaving them in four.”

“And if they’re not?” Haymitch asks.

You bite your lip for a moment, “I want to at least say goodbye. You’re underestimating me. I won’t endanger people on the possibility of getting them out.”

Plutarch shakes his head, “I can check later—“

“Cool.” You nod, “Send someone for me when you do. Because I’m not going to let you lie to my face later.”

And then you look at Finnick, “I know you didn’t tell them to tell me no. Don’t act like a child.”

“It’s… it’s a possibility that they’re alive, okay? But I just got you back. You need to slow down.” He reaches for you, but you pull away from him.

You hold up a finger, “Do not tell me to slow down. I did not come back from the Capitol to be treated like a child and be told to slow down.” You look at Plutarch, “We will be doing everything we can to contact District Four tonight. And you will be sending someone to get me, because if you don’t?

“You’re going to see what real fucking hell looks like. I have done my part, I have suffered enough, and you guys owe me. And it will be a very long time until you don’t owe me anymore.”

You look at Finnick, “Don’t follow me.”

You turn and head towards the fire escape staircase. It’ll be hell going down it, but you need to be anywhere but here right now. You need somewhere quiet to sit until you’ve collected your head.

You can’t fucking believe he just said that to you. He just told you to calm down when your family is missing. You have no clue where they are. They could be dead and you don’t have a goddamn clue.

Their bodies could be buried next to your parents. Snow could have tortured them the same as they did you. They could have died by the worst fucking fate. Right alongside Annie and Caspian’s family. They all could have edited together because they were associated with you in some way.

And you just wouldn’t know.

You’d rather find out now. You’d rather know, right fucking now. So you can have all of your traumas tied together in a little bow like a bouquet of flowers. Hand it all over at the same time, so you can swallow the gigantic pill.

Because, let’s recap on everything that you have gone through the last couple of weeks. The hunger games, two new brand new deaths on your pretty little hands. Being in the hands of the Capitol. Being whipped, and poisoned and humiliated. Then there comes in Mags, and here comes your family.

You just want them to be somewhere safe. You want to be able to actually close your eyes at night without another worry. Because you’ll know that they’re all in their different safe houses. That there are people looking over them, and feeding them, and telling them updates.

They haven’t heard or seen anything from you. They need to know that you’re okay. That you’re someplace safe and you’re recovering. So they can settle down and relax just the same as you are.

They are everything you have. They come first. They have to. You’d love to believe that you would be able to solely survive off of Finnick if they died but it’s just not realistic. If all three of them are dead, you’re going to be shattered, into a hundred thousand little pieces.

After that, there’s no putting yourself back together. And despite this, you have this itch to know if they are okay or if they’re dear. It’s like running in circles. One train of thought that leads you absolutely nowhere.

Just to hear their voice would be a relief.

You get to the floor with the actual hospital pretty quickly. It makes sense for it to be split up, since they need to have plenty of rooms and all that bullshit. Plus, Johannas room is kinda secluded.

No one wants to put up with her. But you do. You know you can handle her, and if anything, her presence is going to be something else.

You and her have a similar personality. A fire, a flame that ceases to be put out. You could take away all that oxygen and you would still survive.

You stop a nurse along the way and she tells you the room number. She warns you about Johanna’s behavior and you tell her that she’s not much to handle.

You knock on the door once before opening it up. Johanna looks like she’s going to snap your head off, and then she relaxes considerably.

“Look who it is.”

You shut the door behind you, “Distract me.”

She raises her eyebrows, “What? Are you going to fight someone? Let them get their ass kicked, everyone here is a bunch of assholes anyway.”

“I wish I could.” You sit in the chair, “But Finnick would find a way to overpower me. I’ve got a tumor attached to my body.”

She laughs, “Finnicks got on your nerves? Has your honeymoon phase finally run out? I have a list of complaints and I’d be happy to start at any time.”

“Go right ahead.” You motion, “I’m sure it’s got to be good.”

Johanna opens her mouth for a moment, and then she closes it. Like a fish gasping for air, it looks like she’s lost what she’s wanted to say.

“Why are you here?” She asks when she’s recollected her thoughts, “I know it’s not to bash on him.”

You take your time explaining everything to her. Letting her know every bit of your opinion and view about the situation. And then you agree with Finnick to some degree, but she stops you before you get too ahead of yourself.

“You’re right, don’t doubt that.” She rolls her eyes, “Any sane person would worry about family like that.”

“So, I’m not going crazy, thanks.”

“Or we’re going crazy together,” Johanna muses, “Have you ever thought about asking Annie if she ever saw your family?”

You shake your head, “No, and I have a reason for that too. Because Reed, Mox and Alyssum would have been out of that house at the first sign of trouble.”

“You know they made everyone stay in their houses when the cameras got shut off to the games, right?” She asks, “They couldn’t have left.”

“They can’t hide in a victor house.” You try to reason, “They’re all built the same.”

Johanna snorts, “Yeah, and crawl spaces can be built too. Don’t be so narrow-minded.”

“I would know if they tried anything like that.”

“Did you end up sealing your basement, then?” She asks, “Every house has a basement.”

“And an attic.” You sigh, “Four floors, with six rooms and three bathrooms. With an office, and a place to sew and even a closet space!” You lean forward, “Did you know about the closet space?”

Johanna laughs, “How were our house tours the exact same?”

“The district reps are all the same. Mine had tried to be upbeat for me after I got mad at her.”

“This has got to be good, there’s endless possibilities.”

You smile, shaking your head, “I got annoyed at her bombarding me and then I mocked her accent.”

“Oh!” Johanna leans back against the pillows, “That’s a good one.”

“It was right after we had won the games. I was up and moving around and trying to talk to Mags…” you trail off for a moment, playing with the navy blue jumpsuit, “And it just came out.”

“You should see how many people I’ve pissed off.”

“I’m sure it’s a very long list.” You muse.

“I’m surprised you’re not on it.” She taps her fingers against the metal bars on the bed.

You look at her, confused, “I have no reason to?”

“You do. With me directing the nurses on you and all. Making them think that you knew more than you did.” Johanna gets quiet for a moment, “I’m sorry about that.”

“Apologies don’t look good on you.” You tell her, “And it was a strategy. They would have come after me either way. You just made it better.”

“All decoration, no filling.” She nods.

-- it ends here --