A/N: I own nothing. Divergent is Veronica Roth & Hunger Games is Suzanne Collins. My writing just needed a bit of exercise and they were happy to oblige. This was just a dabble in the worlds and nothing will become of it. Consider yourself warned.
It snaps around my ankle. Long spikes dig so far into my flesh that I can feel my bone dragging against the metal. Numbness rushes into my body and I know that calm will only last a few seconds until my brain registers what was going on. I draw a quick breath and look down. My pant leg is soaked in a dark crimson. A pool forms around my foot, slowly increasing in size on the forest floor. Six spokes surround my foot. I shift my weight to my good foot and slowly tried to raise the other.
Stupid. The pain finally hits me with such force my vision goes blank. Brightness floods my eyes. I don't remember who I am or where I am or what is happening to me. I can't think. I fall to my knees. Blood streams freely now and covers my fingers as I grip the trap. I have every intention of prying it off. I need to pry it off. But my fingers slip and keep slipping. With each movement of the trap, it digs deeper against my leg. There is so much blood. I start to feel weak. I try again, pulling and gritting my teeth.
My fingers brush the blood and I trace the spike into my skin. It is torn to strips against the trap. I move it aside, trying to find the point. Instead, I feel my muscles. I am touching my insides. I can't breathe, I can't move, and for the first time in a long time, I'm afraid. Bile rises in my throat. It makes me cough and gasp for whatever comfort the air can give me.
"Tobias!" I scream. All I felt was panic and pain. He just left, he couldn't have been too far. He has to hear me. He will come and he will help. A thousand knives stab me over and over again. Stop moving, I scold. He will be here. "Tobias!" I am frantic. The once silent woods have come alive with sounds: birds chirping, animals screaming and branches breaking. All of the sounds I've had to grow used to hearing these past few days swarm around me.
I struggle to keep my thoughts about me. The fire that is consuming my lower half creeps up. Where did this come from? Why is this here? I had to think. If I did not keep my wits, I knew I would crack.
"Tobias," I yell again. My voice sounds velvety, like the blood streaming from the open holes below me. There is so much noise, but I can't see anything. "Please," I say to the ground. But my voice is a whisper. I close my eyes. Focus on breathing, in and out.
And then, he's here. I feel his hands on me. I am still struggling to blink because all I can see is the agonizing throb. His fingers run down my leg, down my calf and settle on my ankle. They are cool as they wipe against the blood. They slip. He can't grip it either. What are we going to do?
"Open it," I say, gritting my teeth. "I can take it. Just pry it open." He has an effect on me. It's calming. The panic begins to subside. He is here and he will make it right. I can think straight with him. He will keep me safe. I start to see the ground in front of me. It is all red. Leaves, sticks and dirt all stained with my blood.
I feel him crouch besides me, shuffling to gain his balance. He straddles my leg. He is much louder than I remember him. But I push that thought aside—I am sure it is because of the pain. Another breath and I look back. All I need to see is his face. I bring my hands down to cover his. And then, just as I can finally see the trees in front of me, I turn to look at him.
I see light blue eyes and blonde hair. This is wrong, I think groggily. This is not Tobias.
This is not Tobias.
And I scream.
The boy- man- jumps. Despite the pain, I struggle to my feet. The trap shifts and tears at a new muscle. Again, I fight the urge to throw up.
"Stop," he says. "You gotta stop. You're making it worse." His voice is fluid like the Amity back home. I want to trust him. He has a gentle face. But I don't. I don't trust anyone anymore.
He puts his hands on me, trying to force me to be still. I don't know him. His touch sends a different kind of fire through me. It invades me faster than the pain did. I scream again.
"Hey," he leans down to look into my face. I can make out his features, soft. That's how I would describe them. "It's ok, I—"
He does not finish. The boy slams to the ground. Tobias stands behind him, rigid. I have seen him like this once before. A flash of the groggy image of his face as Peter held me down against the metal grates with the chasm raging underneath fills my mind. Tobias turns to look at me. His eyes are wide and his jaw falls open. He leans down over me.
And the boy rolls over. He is on his feet quickly, but he is not as graceful. Tobias straightens tense and pounces. Tobias is strong, but the boy does not fall. He stands his ground and Tobias tries harder, raising his fists against the boy's stomach. The boy groans, but grips Tobias' shoulders. He pulls against Tobias and tries to pull him down. Muscles bulge. Tobias, as if realizing he needed to change his tactic, goes low. He bends down and grabs the boy's legs. Then, he makes a face. His eyebrows furrow and I can tell he's trying to figure something out in his head.
The strategy works and the boy falls hard to the ground. Tobias stands over him and presses his foot to the boy's chest. All I hear is heavy breathing.
"Don't," Tobias hisses, "touch her." The boy tries to move from beneath Tobias, but Tobias digs his heel into the boy's ribs. He reaches back into his waistband and pulls out his gun. Within seconds, the gun levels at the boy's head.
Tobias is brutal, but I don't believe he would kill the boy. Man? He looked to be our age. From underneath Tobias, the boy calmly looked down the barrel of the gun.
"I'm just trying to help," he says, his voice gliding over me.
"Shut up," Tobias hisses. He has never been one for patience in stressful situations. "Tris," he says, eying me, "Are you ok?" The boy, in his audacity, snorts. I know what Tobias means. I take a few deep breaths and lean towards my foot again. Beneath the blood, beneath the layers, I feel warm steel.
"I don't know what it is, I don't know how I can get it off." I try to keep the panic out of my voice. There a long thin chain linking the vice to a tree next to me. "I—"
I feel a woosh breeze past me and something gently brushes my arm. My eyes look down to the area and over. There in the tree next to me, tucked into the trunk's only knot, was a feathered arrow. I look to Tobias and the boy for an explanation, but neither had moved. The boy is grinning slightly and Tobias has turned ghost pale. They are looking to their left so I shift my eyes.
And she is amazing. She is everything I ever wanted to be. She stands straight, her hair tucked back into a loose braid. Power oozes from her. Beneath her worn pants, I could see muscles bugle in places I had tried so long to develop. Her fingers clutch the bow tightly and her stance is so controlled, I doubt Tobias could knock her over. The arrow is pointed directly at me.
And though I am covered in blood, my muscles are screaming from the agony of the spikes and the arrow had come within inches of me, all I feel is the harsh sting of jealousy. I sneak a look to Tobias. I am drawn to this girl and I can't help but feeling he would be as well.
"Drop the gun." Her voice pounds within my bones. If the boy beneath Tobias could be described as Amity, there is no question this girl could only be described as Dauntless through and through.
I see him hesitate, but he does not lower the weapon. In a flash, the girl lets loose the arrow. It flies by me and a lock of blonde hair falls to the ground. I feel a sting and touch my ear. When I pull my fingers away, there's blood. In the tree, the two arrows align perfectly.
"Drop it," she says, "I won't miss again." And I believe her. So does Tobias because he lets the gun slip from his grasp. I reach down to my waistband. I can pull the hidden gun before she notices. I don't like the hopeless feeling that's growing within me.
"Don't." While she hasn't shifted her eyes from Tobias, I know she's talking to me. I let my hands fall to my waist.
She nods to the boy under Tobias and he gets to his feet. The boy comes towards me and crouches at my feet. I hear a strange sound escape Tobias, but he does not move any closer to me or to the girl. The boy is careful. He takes my leg and reaches underneath the trap. I feel his fingers digging into me as they wrap around the spikes. I'm afraid of what might happen if Tobias thinks he's hurting me, so I stay as still and silent as I can. The boy keeps digging until finally, he pulls something I cannot see.
The trap springs open. Though my foot has completely come apart, I feel the relief. The freedom of the trap made me feel a little lighter. Or maybe it was the loss of blood. My vision begins to blur once more. I slip forward and the boy catches me. He guides me to the ground and clutches my head.
"She's lost a lot of blood," he says to the girl. She looks even worse than I feel, as if that's possible. "We need to take her."
"Please," I hear Tobias. He sounds as if he's choking on the words, "Please."
The boy sends her a look and she drops the bow. It's all the permission Tobias needs. He stumbles over to me and curls around me. I feel his hands on me and sets me on fire. His lips crash down over mine and I eagerly greet them. He is the only pain reliever I need.
He stops too quickly and looks down. The boy is still next to me and I blush. It has been a long time since Tobias and I were with another person. He has my ankle in his hand and shows it to Tobias.
"We have to stop the bleeding and clean it somehow." The sight before me is so strange. The blonde hair of the boy and Tobias' dark hair blend together as they discuss. Tobias was never one to play nice. But then again, he must feel what I felt. This boy is not a threat.
The boy stands and takes off the belt around his pants. He leans down and ties it tightly around my calf. Tobias in turn pulls off his shirt and hands it to the boy. As delicately as he can, the boy mops up my blood. Pieces of skin fall off with each pass. My stark white bone shines under the crimson material.
Tobias, still clammy and pale, looks away. He grips the back of my head and pulls me towards him. Our foreheads touch and though I can feel his panic, he whispers over and over again, "I love you. I love you. I love you."
The girl appears next to us. I didn't even hear her move through the forest. She bends down and puts her hand on the boy's shoulder.
"I have some salve left," she mutters, "I think that's enough. It doesn't look like the bone's broken. I think we can take care of it. Get rid of that thing," she motions to the hunk of metal, "I can't believe they even had the guts to put it this close to the fence."
The boy looks to Tobias, "Can you carry her?" Tobias scopes me up without a word and looks at the two of them. "We'll take her back. We have something that will help."
In his arms, I relax and press my face against his skin. He takes the pressure off of my leg. Each jab and jolt ricochets through me and it just becomes too much. The woozy feeling I've tried to stifle creeps up on me. He brings his hand up to me and steadies my head. The heartbeat I hear in his chest mimics the pounding of blood as it leaks out of my leg. It's so much simpler to give up, so I do. I peer behind Tobias and see the girl strong and steady behind him. She and the bow slung over her shoulder are the last things I see before I slip away.
I wake up on a table. I am still covered in blood, but I am warmer. Around me, I see artwork on the walls, pots on a stove and a rug with an intricate swirl pattern. It's been so long since I've been in a home and these are nothing like the small, modest cottages of Abnegation.
"Tobias?" I whisper. I'm not sure why I do. This place is so foreign to me and I feel so insignificant here that I don't want to draw attention to myself. I have never experienced anything like this. Even the pit of Dauntless was bare. This place speaks volumes of family and love and togetherness. This place is not a place for the factionless.
"I'm here," he leans down and looks at me. "You're safe. We're ok here."
Tobias does not trust anyone either and though lately I've been the better judge of character, there's no reason I should think otherwise. They could have left us there, but instead they decided to release me.
"I feel better," I mumble.
"I think they gave you something for the pain." He says. I feel the familiar bump on my neck from where a needle went through. "I did it," he added. I breathe again.
The girl from the woods comes to stand besides Tobias. They look so natural next to each other. They complement each other. Both wear their pride in their stance, their power etched in their faces. Again, I feel insignificant. How can he love me when she is so Dauntless and I am so confused?
"I need to bind your leg. I've put on the salve, but your skin needs to heel. I'm just going to wrap it." She jabs her head towards Tobias saying, "Since he seemed to have issues when I tried to give you the morphling, I wanted to make sure I wasn't going to get attacked when did it."
I smile slightly despite myself. "It's fine. Thank you."
She doesn't answer, but sets to work. Though I would not have guessed her to be, she is surprisingly delicate. I can feel her working, but it does not feel painful. She gently grips my ankle and pulls a cloth around it. I start to feel like myself again. I reach for Tobias' hand and grip it.
"Who are they?" I ask him as quietly as I can. He shrugs.
"I don't know. They're the only ones I've seen in the entire town." He looks down at me. "You should get cleaned up. You have blood all over. It might help you feel better." I know he's right, but I don't want to admit it. It would mean leaving him alone in this strange house with these strange people.
"I'm done," she says and gathers the supplies from the table. "You should get cleaned up, you might be more comfortable then." I try not to look at Tobias' smug face. "Just don't get the bandage wet. We don't have too much of that slave left."
I nod and lift myself off of the table. Tobias moves to help me, wrapping his arm around my waist. I can't admit it to myself, but I really need his extra strength. My leg feels like jelly and I can't put any weight on it.
"The shower's in the bedroom over here," she says. "I'll get some towels for you." She disappears behind the corner. I take a moment to look back to the table, but there is so much blood it makes me want to turn away. The wrap on my foot is still white, so I can't be bleeding very much now. I can't help but wonder where they got the medicine.
After a few steps, I realize that we were going to have a very big problem. I can't walk by myself, which means I cannot shower by myself. The thought of Tobias standing next to me as I stood naked in the shower makes me cringe more than the memory of the trap around my ankle. We hadn't crossed that line yet.
I shoo his hands away from me so I can try to stand unsupported. I stumble and let out a sound of frustration.
"Maybe I don't need a shower right now. I'll just change my clothes." I say, trying to sound convincing. In reality, the idea of walking around with my insides on my outside makes me sick. But I am just not ready for that phase.
"Tris, what?" He looks down at me and grabs my arms again. His hands go higher and brush against my chest as they slip under my shoulders. I blush and draw back. "Oh," he mumbles, nodding with understanding.
I nod. "I just… not this way." I glance up at him and he smiles. He brushes a kiss against my cheek.
"I get it." He pulls me closer, "I'll just help you change. We'll wipe you down. I saw a pond down the street, maybe I can throw you in." I roll my eyes. That approach wasn't too far off from how I had been showering lately.
"Katniss can help," says a voice from behind me. It's the boy from the woods. He has changed out of the denim and leather he wore back then into a white tee shirt and linen pants. He looks simple, calm and approachable. His hands are covered in a white powder and hold a basket of bread. The smell is amazing and pulls at my stomach. Even though I am covered in gore, there is nothing I want more at this very moment than to tear into one of the loaves hiding in there.
He sets the basket down on the counter and looks at us. "She can help." He says again. "If that's ok with you." He looks to Tobias and I. Tobias doesn't move away from me, but I can tell he is going to let me make my own decisions. "Not to brag, but we have an amazing shower."
I like him and so does Tobias. He is so open it's hard to imagine he could do us harm. Plus, he comes with fantastic food. He is Amity through and through.
The girl returns, her arms full of towels and soap. It has been a long time since I have taken a shower, especially with the luxury she holds in her hands. The thought of hot water running all over me and finally being clean is hard to pass up. Even if it means being with a strange girl. I have done it before.
"Katniss," he pulls a few pots from underneath a counter and turns to pull out a hunk of meat from the fridge, "Can you help her take a shower?"
She shoots the boy a glare of daggers, then looks at Tobias and I. We're still locked together in an embrace which, though the boy didn't seem to mind, looks like it annoys or embarrasses Katniss. She doesn't say much, just nods and moves forward to take my arm.
I trust the boy. The boy trusts Katniss. And even though she is not pleasant, I think I trust her. They could've killed us, they could've left me to die, but instead she fixed me up and took us in. So, I reluctantly let go of Tobias and wrap my arm around Katniss' shoulders. I was not wrong when I assessed her earlier in the woods. Her triceps push into my shoulder and she bears my weight easily. Though we are of similar builds, I have no doubt that she could outrun me and outlast me in a fight.
She walks with me to a doorway down the hall. Rich, warm tones greet me. A large bed sits in the middle of the room with a dense white comforter. Clothes are thrown in the corner of one room and from the closet peaks the leather jacket I first saw the girl wear. The room is minimal, just a bed, two side tables and a dresser, but it's clear that this is her room. Maybe the boy's room as well. I still don't know the relationship there.
She steers me to the bathroom. It takes my breath away. I have never seen anything like it. The bathrooms back home were always shared. Amity had stalls hidden by curtains, Dauntless was out in the open and Abnegation was quietly tucked away in an outhouse shared by three families. This bathroom speaks extravagance and unfamiliar wealth. The floors and counters are all in a smooth white marble. I didn't know that was used in any other way than to line the floors in the city. Gold shines from everywhere and catches my eye. I don't know where to look. Perhaps the most curious thing to me was everywhere, from the toilet to the bath to the shower, had a metal bar on the walls.
"Do you need help undressing?" She asks, drawing my attention. I do not answer, but peel off my shirt and unbutton my pants. She again lends me her shoulder and I shimmy the sticky material down my legs. It feels good to get it off my skin. I step out of my underwear and subconsciously cover myself with my arms. She says nothing but turns her back and takes a few steps to my left to turns on the shower.
It's a good thing I decided to let her help me than Tobias because neither of us would've been able to figure the shower out. She punches six buttons before water streams down. A sweet smell wafts over to me. I have never known perfume in a shower. I've never known perfume. That is an Amity trait.
"Here," she holds out her arm for support. "It might be easier if you sit under the water. Keep your leg out at first, I'll wrap your ankle." I sit on the marble which is warm from the water. It feels so good to feel it running down my skin. So much better than blood. I know she's working, but again she surprises me with how soft she is. Though her face is hard and she has not been very pleasant thus far, she seems to be a natural doctor. It only takes a moment, and when she's done, she picks my ankle up and puts it under me.
We sit quietly for a while. I hold my arms out and stretch my legs to take stock of myself. The large bruises I have on my thighs from where Tori hit me were finally starting to fade to just a dull brown. I have a few cuts and scrapes from our time in the woods, but nothing to cause alarm. My ankle is wrapped in white gauze and then a thin white strip of plastic so I can't see underneath. I know I really don't want to anyway.
I sigh and lean back against the wall of the shower. The shower was designed to feel like rain falling on me. Steam surrounds me. I feel like I am in a bit of heaven and I am envious that this was all her's.
I turn to look at her. She sits just outside of the shower, her knees tucked up around her. She has pulled her hair up off her neck—perhaps to contend with the steam—and her face is flushed from the heat. She looks off in the distance so I can only view her profile. I notice a small, thin scar on her forearm that disappears under her shirt sleeve.
I have a hard time remembering why I thought she was so dauntless, why I believed she was so strong. Why had I been so jealous of her? Sitting against the marble, she looked like a little girl. She is not strong. She is exhausted. And though I am naked before her, I feel more powerful.
"Thank you," I say. She blinks and turns her eyes towards me.
"You're welcome," she returns softly. She lathers a rag with some of the soap. Again, I'm surrounded by smells, this time mint and cucumbers. "Here," she extends the rag to me. I take it from her and ease it down my legs. Blood is caked under my pores so I have to scrub to peel it off.
"It's been a long time since I've had a shower."
I'm not sure why I try to have a conversation with her. I think it's my mother in the back of my head, reminding me to be pleasant and grateful. She doesn't seem to mind, but she doesn't respond either. She simply nods and stands up again. She raises her hand to a spicket and presses a button. Gel falls freely into her palm. She holds it in her hand until I've finished with the cloth, and then transfers the gel into my hands.
"Shampoo." I nod and bring it to my hair. I'm thankful I cut it as short as I did. "Is that a gunshot wound?" She asks, pointing to my shoulder. I touch the scar with my soapy fingers. I nod. "Did you get it from the war?"
War. Tobias and I had long suspected the world outside the fence wasn't as cheerful as we hoped. Though we had not had into contact with anyone, we had seen evidence of turmoil. Dilapidated buildings, burned villages, craters that looked like they'd been blown apart. Ghost towns. We suspected there was some reason for it, but I was always hoping there was another explanation. Anything that made the outside better than what we left.
"Something like that," I answer. I know she's not talking about our faction war and I am too tired to explain. She doesn't pry.
There's a light knock on the door and she looks up. Even though the shower is blocked from the door, I don't stop myself from hiding my body with my hands. I turn to her. She does not move from the floor, but her face softens.
"Dinner's almost ready," he says and I see his shadow back away from the door. She nods and shifts her attention to me.
"Ready to get out?" I put my hands next to me and pull myself up. She taps three more buttons on the wall and the rain stops. She holds out a towel and I wrap it around me. I wasn't uncomfortable being naked around her. The realization is strange for me. I don't necessarily feel a kinship with her, just content. I clutch the safety bar behind me to take some weight off my ankle. She hands me a smaller towel and indicates it's for my hair.
"What's his name," I ask as she lays down a mat for my feet, "The boy."
"Peeta," the name leaves her lips as a breath. There was no way they were brother and sister.
We move to the bedroom and she directs me to sit on the bed. She walks over to the closet. I see flashes of golds, purples, blues, and greens- more colors than I have ever worn. She pulls out a simple grey shift dress and black leggings from the back racks.
"I'm not sure what you're comfortable in," she starts, "But I don't have much that will fit you."
She hands me the clothes. I run my fingers across the grey material. It was softer than anything I ever felt and I know it's not the cotton or polyester we had back home. I look a little closer and notice a swirling lace pattern overlaid on the waist, nipping the dress in ever so slightly to give the illusion of a waist. The dress was perfectly formed for a woman's body. I can only imagine how much time was spent creating this piece.
"Thank you," I say and tug on the black leggings. I don't mind having my legs bare, but the memory of my bruises clash against the delicate dress. She helps me zip up the dress and button the neck. And though I know I shouldn't, I stand in front of the large mirror. My short hair has already started to dry. The cut of the dress scoops down low enough I can see a hint of cleavage and the short sleeves accentuate the muscle mass I thought I lost in my arms. It's a simple, casual dress, but I have never worn anything like this. Mixed with the perfume that lingers in my hair from the shower, I feel new.
I find I can walk a bit better on my leg, but I still need her help. She grips my waist again and lets me lean on her.
"I'm Tris," I say as we limp to the kitchen.
"Katniss." She responds.
I hear laughter from the center of the room. The boy—Peeta—is standing at the table. A white cloth has been spread over it and he is cutting bread on a board. His face is lit up and he animates a story with his hands. Tobias sits in front of him, swatting away the knife Peeta is waving. Though I can only see his back, he looks more relaxed than I've seen him in a long time. I guess Peeta has that effect on people.
Peeta sees us and drops his knife. He pulls out a chair next to Tobias and ducks under my other arm. Tobias turns much slower and looks at me. I watch as his eyes trace me up and down. I'm not sure he has ever seen me in a dress as flattering as this one, let alone one in Abnegation colors. They place me in the chair and Tobias snakes his hand around my shoulders. Though I have had someone touching me a lot lately, his touch feels more intimate.
Peeta and Katniss work together. They place plates and cups and silverware on the table, piling food into serving platters. Peeta deposits the large piece of meat, now roasted to perfection and basted in a sweet, orange smelling sauce. Pillowy bread finds a spot next to the meat and Katniss lays a gravy boat to its side. Vegetables, broccoli, carrots and a leafy green I was not familiar line the edge.
I have never had this much food in front of me before, let alone placed in such fancy dishes. In Abnegation we used simple silver bowls and Dauntless you'd be lucky if you got a plate at all. Food was fuel to them, not an event.
Katniss sits down first, Peeta follows. They pass the food to Tobias and me. After a brief glance, I shrug and decide that since they've gone to all this trouble to provide for us, we might as well take it. Peeta piles meat onto Katniss' plate and shifts it with a fork to leave enough room for some vegetables. I take a bite into the bread and sigh. It is salty with hints of spice. The combination teases my palate. I try to remember the last time I ate something this warm.
"Peeta made that," Tobias offers, ripping into his own piece. "Isn't it good?" I nod and smile at Peeta.
"This is delicious. It's been a long time since I've had bread."
"Thanks," Peeta smiles politely.
"He told me about the cakes he makes," Tobias reaches for another roll and wiggles his eyebrows suggestively; "Says chocolate is one of his specialties." I can't help but laugh.
Peeta nods and passes a platter of vegetables to Tobias, "We have some leftover in the bakery. It didn't sell. It's a day old and might be a bit stale, but if you want, I can run down and get some after dinner."
I like him. I wholeheartedly like him. He makes Tobias laugh and he makes me feel welcome. How had he come to be with Katniss, who had barely said three sentences to me in the entire time we were alone? It looks as if Tobias and Peeta were already best friends. Meanwhile, Katniss and I could hardly be called acquaintances.
I look at Katniss. While Tobias and Peeta are carrying on a conversation about Peeta's mistaken experiments with savory pies, she stabs a piece of broccoli and rolls it around on her plate. With all this food, in the security of their house and beautiful things that surround her, it makes me angry that she should be this sullen.
"Would you like some bread, Katniss?" I ask, and hold the basket out to her.
"No." She replies. I bite my tongue and look to Tobias. He shrugs, shoveling in yet another piece of bread. Peeta, however, reaches over and covers Katniss' hand with his own. She peers up at him and he smiles. Her hand slowly brings the broccoli to her lips. Besides her, Peeta plops a piece of bread onto her plate with a pointed look.
I'm just about to ask Peeta where he learned to bake so well, when a door slams shut somewhere near the front of the house. The sound echoes against the china on the shelves.
"Damn woman is sold out. I need the emergency stash." Katniss shifts a bit in her place, pulling herself up straighter. Peeta just rolls his eyes.
A man stumbles into the room. His hair is mangy, his eyes are wild and the smell that follows him makes me glad I can still smell the shampoo in my hair. I have seen many drunk people during my time in Dauntless, including an interesting encounter with Tobias, but I have never seen anyone as drunk as this man. He stops short when he gets to the table and looks at each one of us in turn.
"What," his voice sounds like a ball of nails, "you're having a dinner party and you didn't invite me?"
He sinks down uninvited into the chair at the head of the table and grabs a large hunk of meat. Peeta lazily passes the bread and he quickly sops up the gravy, shoving it into his mouth with his hands. He reaches across the table and steals Peeta's drink, drowning it in just two gulps. Katniss stands up and fills another cup before handing it to Peeta.
The man wipes his chin and bits of food fall onto the white table cloth. "The good stuff?" He asks Katniss. She shakes her head and replaces the cup in front of the man with a second glass of water. The man groans, but reaches for yet another helping of food.
I look to Tobias, but he has the same stunned look on his face I must have. Katniss and Peeta sit side by side, looking a bit bored rather than aghast.
"Who are you?" he garbles through an open mouth.
"We found them in the woods," Peeta offers.
"The woods?" He turns to look at us. His eyes glaze over mine and fall on Tobias instead. Tobias makes a fist. Fight or flight. Tobias always chooses fight. The man lets out a low whistle of appreciation. "Definitely not from around here that's for sure. Built like a tank. Could give you a run for the money," he says, shaking a fork at Peeta.
"Haymitch," Peeta's soft voice sounds more like a warning than a statement.
"Just trying to get to know our company," Haymitch grins.
"No," Tobias adds coldly. "We're not from around here." He pushes his plate a bit further from Haymitch, who seems to be completely dominating the table.
"Not from around here," Haymitch drops the roll in his hand and places both elbows on the table. He turns his body to Tobias and tips his head. "I think that was obvious. But I didn't ask you whether you were from around here; I asked you who you two were."
Usually I know before Tobias is going to strike. He gets an eerie calm about him, calculating. Unlike me who explodes first and stops to think later. I can tell Tobias is on the brink and this man, though extremely annoying and incredibly disgusting, was not worth risking our accommodations.
"We're not from a district."
"Tris—" Tobias hisses, but I ignore him.
"We're from a city about a thirty days walk from here. It was called Chicago. You're the first person we've seen in days."
I don't offer anything else, but I certainly have Haymitch's attention, and the other two's.
"I don't understand- how can you not be from a district?" Katniss looks to Haymitch, "I thought everyone was from a district."
Haymitch shrugs and pours more gravy onto his plate. "I don't know everything about this damn country."
"We were told our city was the last group to survive the war. I don't know what war, I don't know how our city got to be there. All I know is that we are not a part of your world and we are no longer a part of ours." Tobias' voice is balanced compared to the rest, but it has a tinge of finality in it. For good measure, he shoves a spoonful of vegetables into his mouth and chews.
"Huh, well isn't that something." Haymitch grins and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, "Leave it to you two to pick up a couple of wanderers." He pats Peeta on the back and steals his mug again.
Though I would certainly hate this man for invading my home and passive aggressively insulting everyone around me, Peeta just laughs a bit, the sound rings out against the furniture in the room. I relish in it despite the tense vibes I'm feeling from Tobias. It feels so good to be around one person who was happy, one person who was carefree, one person who didn't have to worry about what they were possibly going to do now.
So, I'm not ready when his laughter turns to a scream. Startled, I look across the table and see his hands rigid, clawing at his face. His mouth and eyes are contorted rabid. Katniss springs to her feet and clamps her arms around him, pulling his own arms down and looking him right in the eyes.
"Peeta!" She shouts, her face just inches against his. "Peeta," she calls again. She places her hands on either side of his face, pulling his cheeks against her fingers. He bares his teeth and growls. "Peeta, fight it. Stop it."
Besides me, Haymitch dodges Peeta's flailing to take a sip from Peeta's cup. Then, he reaches across the table for another piece of bread.
From beneath Katniss, Peeta breathes slightly. I hear ragged breaths, in and out, quickly as if he was running to catch a speeding train. "You're safe," she whispers to him, "You're safe and you're with me." In and out.
"Your favorite," Peeta's voice is lower than before. It's strained, but he is not screaming. He takes a deep breath, clears his throat and starts again, the words spilling out and cramming together, "Your favorite food is lamb stew."
I don't know what I was expecting from him, but an update on her food preferences certainly wasn't it.
"Yes, the one with the dried plums." Her voice melts him.
"You drugged me in the cave to save me," he stops and digs his fingernails into her wrists. She brings her fingers down to stroke his cheek. Small drops of fresh blood dot her skin. "Real or not real?" He adds.
She does not hesitate when she says, "Real."
"The Peacekeepers killed that man in District 11 because of me." It sounds like a whine, like he is on the edge of despair and he just wants to drop off the ledge. His breaths stop. And though I am trying not to pry, though it is none of my business, I see him look into her eyes.
Until this moment, I had no connection to Katniss. She reminded me of the Abnegation girls after the attacks. They just wandered around shell shocked, serving as a burden to everyone else. But Peeta, and the way Peeta looks at her, makes her come alive. Tears are streaming down his face and he clings to her. She bends down and kisses him.
"No Peeta," she says, "That wasn't you. You are good. That was not your fault. You are good." She repeats.
"Yea," Haymitch's rough voice breaks through the softness the two show to each other. He leans back in his chair and smirks, "Technically the man in District 11 was Katniss' fault."
I know Tobias has the same thought I do: a brief flash of Haymitch's bruised and bloodied face. It takes every effort to keep my hands at my sides. Peeta is crumbling and this man is encouraging it.
"Haymitch," Katniss growls, her eyes never leaving Peeta's, "Shut the hell up."
"Anything for you, sweetheart," Haymitch grins and sends her a wink.
Peeta's arms reach around Katniss and he pulls her closer. I see his lips moving against her ear. Her hands are against his head, stroking his blonde hair. I look away. Next to me, Tobias stares down at his plate.
They are like this for just a few moments before they pull away. Katniss sits back down next to him and grips his hand. He rubs his face with his other palm. When he pulls it away, he smiles. His hand reaches across the table and grabs the cup back from Haymitch.
"Welcome back," Have I mentioned I really don't like Haymitch? Peeta dipped his head to Haymitch in acknowledgement. "Now," He turns towards Tobias and both meet eye to eye. "About your world."
"We don't belong there anymore," I say because I see the way Tobias is eying Haymitch. Tobias glances at me and I know he wants me to shut up. I continue anyway, mostly because I just want to take the attention off of Peeta and Haymitch. "They kicked us out."
Haymitch seems to realize that I'm the one he could get information out of. He is not a Janine, he is not an Eric. Though rough on the outside, I can tell he is completely capable of understanding logical conversation. Katniss and Peeta have not kicked him out of their house, despite his hostile actions. They must trust him.
I am tired. We have been running and hiding from our former factions for days. No one is on our side and we are alone. I don't even know what is happening back home. Evelyn ran the known Divergents out of town before we could react and gave Tobias the choice to stay or leave. I did not get that choice and he chose me. We had no home and no hope.
"A group of people murdered our government and took over. They didn't like who we represented and so they forced us to leave." I guess Tobias already made the choice.
"Who did you represent?" Peeta asks. His voice is gentle again.
"We don't know." He shrugs and looks at me to see if I have any objections. I don't. "We're called Divergent. And all I know is that we are a threat to the government."
Haymitch snorts, "Little pint like you? A threat to the government?" I can't tell if it's sarcasm in his voice, but it grates me. The glint he wears in his eye makes me want to punch him.
"Sometimes the smallest threat can be the biggest one," Tobias says through gritted teeth. "Flies under the radar."
"Sure," Haymitch nods, "Sometimes, they can topple the whole damn regime. All it takes is a spark" His eyes flick across the table.
Katniss audibly clears her throat and pushes away from the table. I only half-listen to Tobias respond to Haymitch's questions about the life we left behind, focusing instead on Katniss. She busies herself with the water pitcher. She fills it at the sink and when the water spills over into her hand, she empties it again. From the corner of my eye, I see Peeta turn to look at her. His face falls into an emotion I can't place. Resignation? Dedication?
Not for the first time today, I find myself wondering about their story. They seem so young. Where were their parents? Who was this idiot sitting at their table, eating their food? Why the hell did Peeta react the way he did?
"What did you say?" Katniss drops the pitcher and whirls around. Her eyes bear into Tobias from across the room. I feel Tobias stiffen.
"Katniss," Peeta has the same warning tone I've already hear him use, only this time I hear the fatigue underneath it.
"No," she reiterates harshly. I'm a bit taken aback. The voice sounds like it's another person. "No, Peeta."
"They're only asking for help," Haymitch says gently.
I can't figure this out. This group's emotions swing so violently, I feel like I've entered a different conversation.
"Please," Tobias' voice is just as gentle. It's low and comforting. "All we're asking is for help. You must have some resources. We don't even know where we are or what this society is like. We don't know anything." Katniss stands stone-faced in front of the sink. She barely acknowledges she hears him. "This is our life," he reiterates, "Our world. "
I look to Haymitch and Peeta. Both are silent. Peeta looks to his hands and Haymitch stares off in the distance. They are waiting for Katniss to respond. And then suddenly, I'm angry. Here she is standing in her huge, luxury house, surrounded by mounds of food and glorious bathroom and most importantly—she's safe. Meanwhile, back home, hundreds— if not thousands—are being forced into submission out of fear. I think back to Evelyn and the government she's forcing upon people who have never known anything different than the faction system.
"Forget it Tobias," I take a swig from my cup and stand up, knocking the chair back. My ankle sears in protest, but it is only pain and I've dealt with pain before. Even though we are feet apart, I look her square into the eye. "She's a coward. They all are. They're not going to help."
Katniss takes a step towards me. Her mouth tucked into a hard line. Her fists, once limp at her side, now balled into fists so tight I could see the veins of her palms. But I don't back down. This is my life. They are the first people we've seen in weeks and they are a letdown.
"You don't know anything," she says so quietly I can barely hear her. She wipes her hands on her shirt and stands a bit straighter. "And my answer is still no." With that, I can only watch as she leaves the room.
For a few moments, no one moves. The room is quiet except for the slow trickling of water from the sink. I can't look at anyone, though I know Tobias is trying to catch my eye. I'm trying to decide if I'm feeling frustration or guilt and he can't distract me.
Peeta sighs and scoots back from the table. "Excuse me," he says and follows after Katniss.
We're left alone with Haymitch who reaches across the table for more meat. He grabs the basket on the way back and offers me some. I don't move, but he nudges it until I take a roll. With nothing else to do with my hands, I take a bite and finally steal a glance at Tobias. His jaw is set, but he smiles slightly at me. I know I've screwed up. I know I said things I shouldn't have. But because he knows me, he isn't mad. We both want the same thing.
"You both should eat up," Haymitch brushes his mouth with a stark white napkin. "There's something I want you to see."
We eat in silence. Tobias grabs seconds of the vegetables and thirds of the meat. I've lost all taste for everything else. Haymitch stands up and clears our plates. The gesture startles me. It is not what I would've expected from him.
"Come on." He motions to an entrance way halfway across the kitchen. I hadn't noticed it earlier, but with the size of this house, I shouldn't really be surprised.
He leads us into a living room and I lean on Tobias for support. As I would've guess, this room is extravagant. Plush, velvet couches surround a tall fireplace. A rug as soft as the grass outside melts underneath my feet and a coffee table the size of a dining table back home opposes a gigantic TV. I have a hard time finding where to look at first, but it's only after I sit down that I notice the pictures cluttering the mantel. I only recognize Peeta, and try not to feel guilty.
Tobias sits next to me and reaches for my hand. I feel his fingers wrap around each one of mine. He's grounding me in this strange place. I only wish we could be alone to talk, to plan our next move. We have to leave this place. They're not willing to help and we need help, desperately. But they were also the first people we've met. If they're not willing, with their wealth and health, how can we possibly know others will help us?
"I'm sorry your home is such a shitshow," Haymitch says from the floor. I watch as he messes with some wires and pushes a disc into the wall. He picks up a remote and presses buttons, then walks over to the only armchair in the room. "But you have to understand where the she's coming from."
There's a bright flash on the screen in front of us. Then, a woman with wild hair and strange clothes appears on the screen. She's standing in front of a fishbowl and holding a piece of paper. She says a name and the camera pans out to a crowd, zeroing in on a little girl with tears in her eyes. The next thing I hear is a shout: "I volunteer."
Katniss flickers into view and she is breathing hard, but her jaw is set—much like I saw her just a few minutes ago. "I volunteer as tribute."
The little girl screams in such a horrible way the hair on my arms stands up. A young man appears out of nowhere and wrenches the little girl away from Katniss. The girl keeps crying and reaching for Katniss. I grip Tobias' hand tighter and pull it into my lap.
Katniss stands on the screen and just a few moments later, I hear Peeta's name called. He makes his way to the stage and the two exchange a look that didn't seem possible from what I've seen. I shudder. Whatever this is… whatever I'm watching, I'm not sure I want to see. But Haymitch makes no move to turn it off.
But I should've. The next three hours are spent watching highlights of what I learn is called the Hunger Games: an absolutely, horrific tradition where innocents kill others. I have been through the Dauntless initiation. I have been hung over the ledge of a chasm and almost left for dead. I should not be surprised that people would really make this jump. But as I watch child after child be impaled, beaten, electrocuted and starved, I start to cry.
And all the while, I see Katniss for who she is. I see her through the commentators: a strong, athletic recruit who is always willing to put others before her. I see her through Haymitch: a frustrating, unpredictable tribute who completely understands him for once. I see her through the eyes of other tributes: a true threat. Most importantly, I see her through the eyes of Peeta: a gracious, determined, beautiful woman who he loves.
We watch the first games and the second. And when I see the events that unfold and hear how desperately Katniss calls for Peeta, I burst into tears. Tobias wraps his arms around me and I know he's thinking the same thing. We cannot bear to be separated. I can't imagine how it was for them.
Which is why, when I see Peeta's broken body as the Capitol discusses the war, I climb into Tobias' lap and bury my face into his neck. When I close my eyes, all I see is Tobias as gaunt and tortured as Peeta. He grips the back of my head and pulls me closer. I feel his lips on my forehead and my eyelids.
"Thank you Haymitch," Tobias says neutrally. He swallows hard. "I think we understand now."
Haymitch turns to us and I look at him. "They've been through a lot. I'm sorry. I know—trust me I know—what a government can do. I know you need help." He points to Katniss on the screen. She stands in front of a burning building where just moments before she was comforting wounded patients. "But they are not the ones to help you. They cannot be the ones to help you. We cannot go through this again."
I hear the click of the remote and the roaring sounds of gunfire and propaganda die down. I start to sob. I can't remember the last time I cried, but I have to. The pain and the guilt of misunderstanding everything in front of me finally sinks in. But also, somewhere deep down, there's the unmistakable, crushing disappointment that Tobias and I are on our own again.
"There's a spare bedroom through that door. They won't mind. I'll lock up behind me. And please," he glares pointedly at Tobias, "They'd want you to stay. I don't want to explain how I kicked you out with the girl's bad ankle. Besides, it's not like you can go far anyway." He chuckles a bit as if he'd made a joke, grabs a bottle from behind a stack of books on the mantel piece and stumbles down the hall.
Tobias looks down at me and pulls me closer. He weaves his arm under my legs and stands up, carrying me towards the direction of the bedroom. I'm thankful. Between what I've just seen and the dull pain that still invades my ankle, I don't think I have the strength to move. By the time he sets me on a bed—as comfortable as I would've imagined—I can barely keep my eyes open. But I roll over to face him when he lies next to me.
He takes his finger and brushes it against my cheeks, against my lips. I raise my hand to do the same. His face is hard. Unlike me, he has no signs of tears, but I can tell from the way he's carefully arranged it that he is suffering as well.
"I don't want to be a part of this world," he murmurs.
"But we don't belong in ours," I counter. "We don't belong anywhere."
"We need to go back. We need to show them what this world is like. We need to make sure it never happens." He is so adamant and I nod.
"But we are still Divergent," I remind him softly.
He snakes his arms around me and pulls me closer to him. Not for the first time, I'm aware of how we touch. I feel his chest, his legs, the beating of his heart and the silent reminder that we are both separate, no matter how hard we try to be one.
"If I had lost you," I feel his breath hot against my shoulder, "I would've fallen apart."
"No you wouldn't. You would've charged right in to save me. You have before." We never broach this topic: the one where I did leave him and he had followed to a certain death. So I'm not surprised when he veers around the thought.
"How did they possibly survive?" He wonders aloud. I have found myself wondering that as well. But I think back to Katniss' stoic look in the kitchen and Peeta's frightening outburst.
"They didn't," I say. He pulls back and I continue, "They're not surviving. They're just going through the motions. They're just alive, they're not living."
Tobias nods. "I don't want to live that way."
"Me either."
"We'll leave tomorrow." He resolved, and I do not argue.
We settle into an uneasy sleep. Tobias thrashes against me. I wake from frequent dreams where I'm watching a TV screen and a gaunt, dilapidated Tobias asks for help over and over again, but the feed cuts out before I can reach him. By the time the sun leaks through the window in the morning, I feel just as exhausted as I did when I went to bed.
Tobias reaches over and brushes my hair back. The sweat had matted strands to my forehead.
"Well you've had better mornings," he teases with a slight smile. I punch him in the gut. He moves to the edge of the bed and I do the same. The grey dress Katniss let me wear is wrinkled beyond belief and I find myself longing for the clothes I came here with. But I know the pants were shreds and the shirt probably had so much blood on them, they had to be thrown out.
To my surprise, Tobias throws a pair of pants and a shirt at me. I look at him surprised, but he just shrugs.
"Guess they put them in here while we were sleeping," he says. He peels off his shirt and while I shouldn't be ashamed, I feel my heart pound inside my chest. That fire I'm familiar with creeps into my throat. I swallow and decide it's easier to keep my eyes on the bed in front of me. That's when I notice my ankle. I gasp.
Tobias turns around, "Come on, I'm not that grotesque."
But I ignore him and slide my fingers down to where the bandage is beginning to peel away. I should be touching mutilated skin and bone, but instead, I touch skin. When I press, I feel muscle underneath, though the muscle is soft and tender.
"Holy shit," I mutter and unravel the bandages even more. The story is the same beneath the bandage. Soft, pink skin surrounds my cuts. Aside from a few jagged scars lining my ankle, it's as if nothing happened.
"Holy shit," he echoes. Tobias, still without a shirt, peers over me. Whether it's the shock of seeing my injury completely healed, or the fact that his chest is just right there, I feel light-headed.
"Will you please put a shirt on?" I implore, closing my eyes to stop the spinning.
Tobias grins. He places his hands on either side of my body and brings that naked chest down on top of me. He forces me to lie underneath him and then I'm surrounded by his skin. I sigh and look into his eyes. He kisses me, softly and gently.
"I think I'm going to take a shower," he whispers seductively. "Want to come?"
I roll my eyes and shove him off of me. "No. Good luck figuring out the shower without me."
He laughs. It's good to hear him laugh—at least one of us can. He gathers up the clothes and goes into the attached shower. I hear him fumble a few times. The shower turns on and off a few times and I hear a shout. Eventually, the shower streams consistently and I hear him step in. And though he is less than 20 feet away standing bare under the shower, I can't bring myself to join. Surrounded in this house and under the circumstances, it just doesn't feel right.
I peel off my clothes and put the new ones on. Just like the grey dress, these are soft and flatter me. But unlike the dress, I can move freely without restriction. It's as if they wanted us to leave, I think bitterly, but quickly pushed the thought aside. I know what they've been through; this is not the place to be selfish.
The water switches off and Tobias emerges just a few minutes later. I wait for him, not ready to face Peeta and Katniss by myself. He reaches for my hand and I take it. Together, we walk to the kitchen. Surprisingly, I have no pain and am able to bear weight on my ankle without any trouble at all.
"Good morning!" Peeta calls to us brightly as we enter, "Your ankle looks fantastic!"
I smile briefly. "Thanks to you both and that magic salve."
Peeta shrugs, "We're just lucky we still had some I guess." He sets down another loaf of bread on the table. Jams and jellies dot the surface. I see some scrambled eggs and almost moan. I've never missed home more. "Please," he motions, "sit."
We do and he sits next to us. Katniss' absence is palpable. Tobias strikes up a conversation with Peeta about his bakery and Peeta animatedly responds.
"We can head over there this afternoon if you'd like, it's just down the road."
"Thanks," Tobias smiles graciously, "But I think we're planning on heading out."
"Ah," Peeta nods. "Look…" He trails off slightly before starting again, "Look, last night, we didn't mean to jump on you. I can't imagine how painful it is to be in your situation. But I hope you can understand: Katniss has been through a lot."
I look at him amazed. I don't know if he knows we watched the tapes. I don't know if he knows I saw everything that unraveled. But if he doesn't, and he's still being this kind, he's a better person than me.
Tobias nods next to me. "We understand."
Peeta passes an envelope to me. I want Tobias to take it, but the way Peeta's looking at me, I know he's determined to involve me.
"In here, you'll find instructions. Whatever your plans are, whoever or whatever you need, the people I listed in there will be able to help. And you can trust them. I've written down what to say. You should have no problem. There's also directions to a place where you'll be safe—no questions asked. It's called District 13. The majority is underground, but the people are tough, like you. You'll fit in there, better than here." He hands me a slim, dark item. Buttons and numbers line the bottom of the device. "Instructions on how to use it are in the packet as well. If you're ever in trouble, just press this button here," he motions to a dark blue button in the corner. "Help will come."
I don't know what to say. I grip the packet like a new lifeline. I don't know what we'll do or where we'll go, but at least now we have options. We don't have to be alone.
Tobias reaches over and shakes Peeta's hand. "Thank you." I echo his words.
"I know what it's like," Peeta says, "to be desperate. You two have each other and that counts as something."
Tobias moves to stand and I know it's time to go. I take one look around the kitchen and a little inkling of sadness creeps up. I had misjudged them. They are warm and they are good.
"Could you tell Katniss," I ask Peeta, gripping his hand tightly, "That I don't think she's a coward. And please thank her for helping us."
Peeta smiles. "I'll be sure to tell her that." He hands us a backpack and I smell bread beneath it. "There's some clothes in there too. And a little bit of the salve. It's all we have left, I'm sorry it's not more."
We crowd the doorway to the outside: Tobias, Peeta and I. All three know we have to say goodbye, but no one makes a move for it. As soon as we cross this threshold, I know there's no turning back. We can't pretend we didn't meet them or that we don't know what happened to the world outside the fence. We'll have to make tough decisions about what we need to do. Tobias and I will be alone again and though we now have a lifeline, it was nice to be taken care of again. It was nice to have a place in the world again, even for just a little while.
"Ready?" Tobias asks me, the bright sun behind him distorting his figure so he is only darkness around me. I clutch the envelope tightly in my hand and take a step forward. I can see him clearly now, all lines and pieces of him.
"Yes," I say and we step into the morning air.
Neither one of us look back.