Chapter Eight: Watch Me Bleed
A/N: Okay, so this chapter was a bit hard to write. You'll see what I mean by the ending. Not sure if you saw it coming or not.
"It will all be over, and here we are
We'll die inside this salted earth together
You'll pierce my lungs, your limbs go numb
As my colours fade out, you watch me bleed."
- Watch Me Bleed, Scary Kids Scaring Kids
Elethea's POV
"Elethea." Someone shakes me awake, whispering my name. I flail, before realising that it's only Dom. "Elethea, come on, wake up. We have to go."
"Go where?" I ask, causing Dom to respond by pressing a finger to his lips and gesturing to Silver and Romulus, who are both still fast asleep. I understand him now – he means that we have to leave the others before it's too late. I nod and hastily gather my things in silence, glancing at Romulus every now and again. I want to kill him. I've never wanted anything more…but despite my convictions before the Games, I find that I just can't do it.
Dom helps me to my feet and we creep down the stairs. My eyes sweep the street as we move outside, and it feels like we're the last survivors of some kind of apocalypse. I haven't seen any sign of the boys from District 3 and 6. Dom catches my hand and leads me down the street and into one of the smaller buildings, an abandoned warehouse. I sigh in relief, my shoulders slumping as we set our things down. Being away from Romulus is definitely something to be grateful for.
I hum tunelessly as I sort through our supplies, dividing them into segments. There are so few of us now, so few that it makes it difficult for me to tell how much longer Dom and I can stay together. The prospect of being alone worries me more than I want to admit. Dom and I have been together this entire time, and I'm not keen on the idea of splitting up. Dom watches me carefully, almost worriedly, as I brush my dark hair out of my eyes.
"You alright?"
"I'm fine." I offer him a fleeting smile. "It's just weird, being just the two of us now. We've just left the others, but…I don't know. It's hard to explain."
"Might only be one of you now." The voice startles us, and I jump to my feet. It's the boy from District 6, a sword in hand. Chills crawl up my spine. Did he follow us here, or has he been here the entire time? Either way, I don't like his ability to creep up on us so silently. This guy's big, nearly as big as Romulus. I know there's no time to waste.
I spin and hurl one of my knives as Dom hefts up his spear. The boy from District 6 manages to avoid my knife and slashes at me with his sword. I stumble back and reach for my other knife, but Dom has already stepped between us, blocking the blow with his spear. The edge of District 6's sword manages to cut open his arm.
"Dom!" I exclaim in shock.
The District 6 boy draws back and lunges again, the blade of his sword slicing along Dom's leg.
Dom hisses and stabs him in the chest and I take my chance. It's two against one, and I can't let Dom do all the work for me. I slash across the back of District 6's leg with my other knife, causing him to fall to his knees, groaning in pain. Dom drives his spear through the boy's neck, and District 6 chokes and falls limp, his cannon resonating throughout the warehouse. I wonder if it will wake Romulus and Silver up, if they'll ponder on who died.
"You okay?" Dom asks me, but I'm more concerned about the blood dripping from the cuts on his arm and leg. He's too busy worrying about my wellbeing to focus on himself. I realise how stupid I was to think his kindness an act before. He saved me from Romulus, he's continued to save me throughout these Games. How could I think he'd betray me?
"Fine." I wave a dismissive hand. "Where did he get you?"
"Arm and leg." Dom puts on a false bravado. "Just a scratch."
"Uh huh." I raise my eyebrows. Typical teenage guy, trying to be macho and pretend he's hardly hurt at all. I know the sword cut him deep enough so that his wounds would be more than scratches. "Show me this 'just a scratch'."
Dom sits down and tugs up his shirt to reveal the wound on his arm. It's deep, deeper than I'd thought. I'm going to have to try and stitch it, otherwise there's a very likely chance it'll get infected…if we even last that long. Shame I don't know too much about stitching. I shake my head in despair.
"Just a scratch. Right."
Dom chuckles, but the noise becomes a hiss when I tentatively poke at the wound. The one on his leg is just as bad. I don't even look up as the hovercraft bears down to collect the body of the boy from District 6, I'm too focused on Dom. I search through our supplies until I find a needle and thread, which have been in my pack since the bloodbath on the first day.
"I can stitch, but I don't have antiseptic."
"It's fine," Dom waves me off. He rolls up his pant and tugs his shirt off, and I flush and try not to look at the muscles of his chest. The wounds continue to weep blood, and I clean them with his shirt.
"Okay, tough guy." I start stitching the wound, knowing it'll probably hurt him. Dom clenches his jaw and grimaces as the needle goes through his skin. "It's alright. Don't tense."
Dom tries to relax and I finish up my messy stitching of his leg, shifting closer to stitch his arm. I'm aware of his gaze on me, and after all that's happened with Romulus, I can't help but feel uncomfortable under his intense scrutiny. I sloppily finish stitching his arm, knowing it's the best that can really be done at the moment given the circumstances. I draw back once I'm done, cleaning the needle on his shirt.
"You okay now?" I inquire, my eyes searching him thoroughly. Normally he's the worried one, but now it's me. Dom's wounds aren't shallow. He smiles valiantly, as if that along can convince me.
"Yeah."
Dom's POV
By the time night falls, Elethea is shivering violently underneath the thick blanket we share. She curls close to me, teeth chattering. I slide my arms around her waist, pressing her tight against me. Despite the fact that she's cold, her skin temperature is almost unbearably hot. I know it can't be good. My mind whirls as I try to think about what it is that Elethea has.
"I'm so cold," Elethea murmurs. She looks up at the stars we can see through the gaps in the warehouse roof. I can see tears welling in her green eyes. "I'm going to die."
"No, you aren't," I insist fiercely. I don't know why I've taken up the role of her protector, but I'm not about to let her down now. I saved her from Romulus, and I'll save her from this if I can.
"But I'm cold," Elethea's tone is full of despair, "And I can't get warm."
"Hypothermia," I mutter. It's the only thing that makes sense. She's shivering profusely, but she doesn't feel cold when I hold her. It's a grim prospect, considering we don't exactly have all the medical supplies in the world with us.
"How do I fix it?" Elethea vents. She hugs herself tight, and I know that she's scared. I think we're all scared of death. I see it whenever I close my eyes. Xander's unseeing eyes staring up at the roof. Melia bleeding out on the concrete pavement. It's a looming black void, closer than ever now. "Okay. I think I got it. Skin contact. Sharing body heat."
"Okay." I have no problem in tugging my shirt off, but Elethea turns red as she takes her own top off. I can tell that she isn't comfortable taking her clothes off in front of me. I think it's probably got to do with Romulus. I pull her close and she clings to me like I'm her life support, causing me to smile. She's soft and warm.
"Sorry if this is awkward," she murmurs against my neck, "I'm kind of pressed up right against you."
"It's fine, El," I insist.
She looks up at me and then she's kissing me. I respond with enthusiasm, knowing it could be the last time I ever kiss her, or any girl. She rolls so she's lying on top of me and I run my hands up her bare back, but then I stop. I remember Romulus's hands up Elethea's shirt as she cried and struggled. I hesitate.
"What's wrong?" she asks.
"I just don't want this to go too far," I say quietly. I care about her, but to what extent? I'm almost certain that I love her, but love is what could destroy us. I don't want anything rushed to happen just because of the Games.
"We're just kissing," Elethea points out, nibbling anxiously at her lower lip. "What is it? Do you want more?"
"No," I reply, before I lean in and kiss her again. Maybe I do, maybe I don't. Sometimes I think I'll never know exactly what I want. I pull her closer against me, her soft hands resting lightly on my chest. I run my hand through her dark hair and she gasps, pressing against me. I kiss her harder, with as much ferocity as I have, smirking a little as a soft moan escapes her.
"If I was your age, how far would you go?" Elethea inquires curiously, drawing back a little. Her full lips are red from my attentions. The question surprises me, in particular because I don't really know the answer.
"All the way, maybe."
"And because I'm not your age, you wouldn't want to go all the way?" Elethea questions. She's a curious little thing, this one. But I know that she isn't as wide-eyed and innocent, not since Romulus attempted to have his way with her. "Or you just don't like admitting you would because I'm fourteen?"
"No, because one of us isn't coming out of this arena," I say grimly. There's no point in starting something that can never last. I always find myself questioning what I feel for Elethea. I wouldn't die for her, but I'll protect her as best I can. Is that love really? If not, what exactly is it? Does it need a definition?
"It's going to be me," Elethea whispers. "I'm the smallest. I'm sick. If Romulus comes for me…"
"I'll gut him," I spit. What Romulus tried to do to Elethea was appalling, and it's still a sore spot with me. If he ever tries to touch her again, I'll lop off his hands, and have no hesitation in doing so.
"Dom." Elethea sighs heavily. "There are five of us left. You know what this means, don't you? When I'm better…or even before then…we're going to have to split."
"I know," I mutter, a grim silence descending over the pair of us. When the dawn breaks, things might change forever. I know that it won't be a good sort of change.
Elethea sleeps soundly, curled up under the blanket. The body heat's helped her, for she's not shivering anymore. She looks so young and innocent, in a ball on her side. I inspect her carefully, idly twirling of her knives in my hand and contemplating what I have to do. It'll be a mercy. There are five of us left, and it's better me giving her a quick end rather than leaving her to someone like Romulus. She yawns and rubs her eyes, sitting up and noticing the gleaming object in my hands.
"Hey, that's my knife."
"I know," I say quietly. She reaches out a hand, but I keep it out of her reach, shaking my head. "No."
Elethea frowns. "What do you mean, no?"
I yank her to her feet, fisting one hand in her dark hair to keep her in place and using the other to press the knife to her throat. Her green eyes widen in horror, and I start to think perhaps I have the mentality of a Career after all. Last night, we'd been kissing, and this morning, I'm going to kill her.
"What are you doing?!" she cries in shock, although it's blatantly obvious.
"One of us will have to kill the other eventually," I inform her, doing my best to keep my tone impassive.
Elethea's expression is one of terror. "You're going to kill me?"
I clench my jaw. This is no time for mercy. "Yes."
Elethea winces and screws her eyes shut, preparing for the end. I press the knife harder into her neck, causing blood to well under the blade. I can't do it, I just can't. I draw back. She watches me incredulously, not quite understanding what just happened.
"Dom?" she queries tentatively.
"I can't kill you." I feel like the words are some kind of self-betrayal. I hand her knife back to her. It seems wrong to kill my district partner. We both stand a chance at survival. If we part ways now, we'd be enemies when we next come across each other. Am I willing to risk letting her kill me? She takes her knife and watches suspiciously as I grab my pack.
"Where are you going?" she calls after me.
"I'm leaving." I turn back as I hear her sigh heavily. "We can't stay together, El."
"I knew we'd have to split sometime," Elethea murmurs, and my heart aches at the fact that it has to be now. It's better than having to face her in the final two, but I still wish that there was another way.
"I'm sorry," I state, because what else is there to say. The time for talking is almost over. The time for District 4 is now over, and we're just Dom and Elethea, two tributes struggling to survive. Elethea flings herself at me, wrapping her arms around me tight. I hug back, contenting myself just with holding her in the brief few moments we have left.
"I don't want you to get hurt," she murmurs.
I put on a brave face. "I'll be fine."
"What if Romulus finds you first?" Elethea asks, biting at her lip. I can see that she still fears the boy from District 2, the boy who pinned her down in the dark despite her sobbing and begging. He's possibly the most dangerous contender left in the Games.
"I'll kill him," I assure her.
She buries her face in my chest, and I find myself wishing the world could stand still for a while. I stroke her dark hair for several moments, before drawing back. I can't get too attached. Especially not considering if I see Elethea again, I'll have to kill her.
"Be careful," I warn her.
A wry smile crosses her lips. "I'm always careful."
Elethea's POV
I sit in the darkness, hugging my jacket around myself. I know I'd be warm if I lit up a fire, but in a cityscape that's not entirely a good idea. All of the other survivors are Careers – with the exception of the boy from District 3, who I'm guessing isn't going to last much longer. How much longer will I last? Without Dom, I'm a nothing, a nobody. I'm still eating, a little, but I'm definitely thinner than I was. I rake my dark, lank hair back and clamber to my feet, picking up my pack.
It's time to move. I can't risk staying in one place for so long. My stomach growls in protest and my heart aches with misery. I have a childish desire to be with Dom again, to hold him close. It's a girlish fantasy and I know it can't come true. We're destined to be enemies now, and either one or both of us will die. I heave a sigh.
"El?"
My first, panicked thought is of Romulus, creeping up on me in the dark, trying to hurt me once again. I scream and draw one of my knives on a whim, slashing aimlessly. Then, horrifyingly, too late, I recognise the voice. It's not Romulus at all. Dom staggers back into the moonlight, blood starting to well where I'd cut across his throat, chest, stomach…
"Dom?" I watch in growing horror as he presses his hands over the wounds. No, this isn't right. I'm not supposed to be his killer. What have I done? "Dom, how bad is it?"
He crumples to his knees, bleeding out quickly. I can see it there in the moonlight, dark sticky liquid staining his shirt, blossoming outwards like a disease. There had been shock in his eyes, but now I don't want to look. I don't want to see the accusation there, the hurt that I'm the one to destroy him. I realise now that no matter the circumstances, Dom wouldn't have killed me. He had his chance…and he didn't.
"No, no, no…" I kneel in front of him, desperation taking a hold of me. All I can do is watch him bleed out. I take his face in my hands. Anything, I'd give anything to take it back. I feel sick to the stomach. "Stay with me, Dom."
"I'm sorry, El," Dom manages hoarsely. I force myself to watch him fading away, to acknowledge with an ache that it's me who's done this. Dom, who's done nothing but care for me and protect me from the others…and I'm the one to turn on him, to become his murderer.
"Please," I beg, shaking my head vigorously. It's not right, it's not fair. There's a lump scratching in my throat and tears welling in my eyes. I'm dangerously close to falling apart. "Hang in there, Dom. I love you."
"I know," Dom rasps, coughing up blood. I see it stain his hand, see the panic in his blue eyes. I want to scream. Worse, I want to pick up my knife and drive it through my own heart. Not because he's dying, but because I'm the one who's committed this atrocity.
"I'm sorry," I repeat, unable to hold back the tears that trail freely down my cheeks. "Please. Just hold on."
He falls onto his back, moving limply before falling still. His blue eyes stare upwards at the stars he can't see, the stars that aren't even real. It's not fair. Why couldn't he have died looking up at something beautiful, at something real? Why had I been the one to kill him? His cannon goes off and it's the final confirmation of what I've done, and I can't hold my shock and anguish and self-hatred in anymore.
My scream of anguish rips through the arena. I put my arms around his immobile body, holding him tight and burying my face in his neck, crying hysterically. A part of me has died with Dom, and it's been replaced with something that twists harder than a knife, mercilessly, inside me. A painful shard to remind me of what I am: Elethea Ambrose, the monster from District 4.
