A/N: Okay. Fanfic went wonkers for a while so it took me awhile to update. It just kept redirecting me to an Error Type 1 page. Not fun. I was so worried I got block or barred or something! Then what would have happened to this fic? Thanks to LuvlyLadyLexi that is if this ficc managed to continue only, which it did so why am I still saying if? We should all thank her now. And to aoshinobi... GUSH! AWWW! THANK YOU FOR MAKING A SKETCH THAT IS INSPIRE FROM THIS! I'M SO TOUCH! SEND IT TO ME AND I MIGHT MAKE IT THE COVER HERE! phozomi gmail . com
This is mostly a Jack and Vanellope chapter. Hope you guys will find some way to appreciate it. Good news, the special rule change comes up in the next chapter. You all gotta get excited for that, huh? So I'll try to type with the speed of lighting and you root me on for that, and you can do that by reviewing. Please share your thoughts and tell me I'm doing something right.
Okay, as early as now, help me decide on Finnick and Annie's counterparts. I have several couples in mind and different ideas for their story line. For some reasons, I made District 4, their District, crafts here though. So keep that in mind when you think about the choices.
-Eugene X Rapunzel (and yes, the Flynn here is different from Eugene here)
-Jim Hawkins X Zuko (They're not gonna be a couple. It's a brotherhood thing if I do make it them)
-Johnny X Mavis
-_X_ (any other couple you suggests. Just be sure that the movie animation is very well known.)
Guy and Eep can't be. I already got Guy's role in mind that's perfect for him so yeah. Sorry if you wanted that.
The Ally
Hiccup kept squirming and glancing up to Jack, his eyes pleading.
Jack bit his lip. Soon. He mouthed. And really, that's all he could think to say.
Hiccup nodded and stayed awake. Birds are settling down for the night, singing lullabies to their young. Night creatures emerge. An owl hoots. The faint scent of a skunk cuts through the smoke. The eyes of some animal peer at Jack from the neighboring tree a possum maybe catching the firelight from the Highs' torches.
Suddenly, Jack's up on one elbow. Those are no possums eyes, the albino knows their glassy reflection too well. In fact, those are not animal eyes at all. In the last dim rays of light, he makes her out, watching him silently from between the branches. Vanellope.
How long has she been here? The whole time probably. Still and unobserved as the action unfolded beneath her. Perhaps she headed up her tree shortly before Jack did, hearing the pack was so close.
For a while they hold each other's gaze. Then, without even rustling a leaf, her little hand slides into the open and points to something above Jack's head.
:::::
Jack's eyes follows the line of her finger up into the foliage above him. At first, he has no idea what she's pointing to, but then, about fifteen feet up, he makes out the vague shape in the dimming light. But of... of what? Some sort of animal? It looks about the size of a raccoon, but it hangs from the bottom of a branch, swaying ever so slightly. There's something else. Among the familiar evening sounds of the woods, Jack can register a low hum. Then he knew.
It's a wasp nest.
Fear shoots through him, but Jack has enough sense to keep still. After all, he didn't know what kind of wasps live there. It could be ordinary, or maybe even the leave-us-alone-and-we'll-leave-you-alone type. But this is the Nightmare Games, and ordinary isn't the norm. More likely they will be one of Berk's mutations, tracker jackers, these killer wasps were spawned in a lab and strategically placed, like land mines, around the districts during the war. Larger than regular wasps, they have a distinctive solid gold body and a sting that raises a lump the size of a plum on contact. Most people can't tolerate more than a few stings. Some die at once. If you live, the hallucinations brought on by the venom have actually driven people to madness. And there's another thing, these wasps will hunt down anyone who disturbs their nest and attempt to kill them. That's where the tracker part of the name comes from.
Jack found it a piece of mean joke, about the jackers part. Jack-ers. What did that say about him?
After the war, Berk destroyed all the nests surrounding their city, but the ones near the districts were left untouched. Another reminder of their weakness, Jack supposed, just like the Nightmare Games. Another reason to keep inside the fence of District 12. When Jamie and he comes across a tracker jacker nest, they immediately head in the opposite direction.
So is that what hangs above me? Jack looks back to Vanellope for help, but she's melted into her tree.
Given his circumstances, Jack figured it didn't matter what type of wasp nest it is. He's wounded and trapped. Darkness has given him a brief reprieve, but by the time the sun rises, the Highs will have formulated a plan to kill him, then Hiccup. There's no way they could do otherwise after he made them look so stupid. That nest may be the sole option he had left. If he can drop it down on them, they may be able to escape. But he'll risk his life in the process, but that didn't scare him. He'd risk Hiccup's life, who was actually down there with them.
NOW That scared him.
Of course, he'll never be able to get in close enough to the actual nest to cut it free. Jack will have to saw off the branch at the trunk and send the whole thing down. The serrated portion of his knife should be able to manage that. But can his hands? And will the vibration from the sawing raise the swarm? And what if the Highs figure out what he's doing and move their camp? That would defeat the whole purpose.
Jack realizes that the best chance he'll have to do the sawing without drawing notice will be during the anthem. That could begin any time. Firstly of course, he had to get Hiccup's attention, so he can be prepared. The boy down below was asleep. Jack took the spear head, dulling the pointed edge just in case, and used his belt as a temporary sling. It wasn't a very good sling. But it wasn't like he needed it to work well enough as a weapon, he just needed it work well enough to wake the boy. So he made his aim and took his shot, smacking Hiccup's cheek and rousing the boy. The brunette blinked his wide eyes, turning as much as he could in Dagur's arms. He caught Jack's eyes and was about to glare for the rude awakening when he saw the albino pointing at something. There was enough that the brunette managed to make out whatever he was pointing, and he blinked, his eyes questioning. Jack therefore showed his knife and made a sawing gesture, pointing to the wasp nest and making a falling gesture. The brunette understood.
Hiccup started to squirm loose from the maniac holding him as Jack dragged himself out of his bag, making sure his knife is secured in his belt, and begins to make his way up the tree. This in itself is dangerous since the branches are becoming precariously thin even for him, but Jack perseveres. He told Hiccup the plan, no point in backing out their only chance. When Jack reaches the limb that supports the nest, the humming becomes more distinctive. But it's still oddly subdued if these are tracker jackers.
It's the smoke, Jack thinks. It's sedated them.
This was the one defense the rebels found to battle the wasps.
The seal of Berk shines above him and the anthem blares out.
It's now or never.
Jack begins to saw. Blisters burst on his right hand as he awkwardly drags the knife back and forth. Once he's got a groove, the work requires less effort but it's almost more than the albino can handle. He grits his teeth and saw away occasionally glancing at the sky to register that there were no deaths today.
That's all right.
The audience will be sated seeing Jack injured and treed and the pack below him, intrigued with the struggle on his operation now. But the anthems running out and Jack's only three quarters of the way through the wood when the music ends, the sky goes dark, and he's forced to stop.
Now what?
Jack could probably finish off the job by sense of feel but that may not be the smartest plan. If the wasps are too groggy, if the nest catches on its way down, if he tries to escape, this could all be a deadly waste of time. Jack was this close to give up, but he didn't want to.
Soon.
That's what he had mouthed to Hiccup the night before, with the boy frightened and uncomfortable in Dagur's arms. Even if the wasps kills him, he had to make sure the brunette could escape the Highs, and most of all the boy from 2.
In the faint light of the High's torches, Jack inches back down to his fork to find the best surprise he's ever had. Sitting on his sleeping bag is a small plastic pot attached to a silver parachute.
My first gift from a sponsor!
Aster must have had it sent in during the anthem. The pot easily fits in the palm of Jack's hand. What can it be? Not food surely. Jack unscrews the lid and he knows by the scent that it's medicine. Cautiously, he probes the surface of the ointment. The throbbing in his fingertip vanishes.
Jeez, Aster. He whispers. It's about damn freakin' time...
But Jack was sincerely grateful. Aster has not abandoned him, or Hiccup. Knowing the exact time to present a gift that would help them both. Not leave them to fend entirely for themselves. Jack had to be okay to help himself and Hiccup for this predicament, Aster did know how to make use of sponsors after all, it seems. Jack and Hiccup just had to be together to be able to receive them. Killing two birds with one stone... Or in these case, saving two Lights with one spark.
The cost of this medicine must be astronomical. Probably not one but many sponsors have contributed to buy this one tiny pot. To Jack, it was priceless. He dips two fingers in the jar and gently spread the balm over his calf. The effect is almost magical, erasing the pain on contact, leaving a pleasant cooling sensation behind. This is no herbal concoction that Mrs. Overland grinds up out of woodland plants, it's high-tech medicine brewed up in Berk's labs. When Jack's calf is treated, he rubs a thin layer into his hands. After wrapping the pot in the parachute, he nestled it safely away in his pack. Now that the pain has eased, a bird is perched just a few feet from Jack alerts him that a new day is dawning. In the gray morning light, he examines his hands. The medicine has transformed all the angry red patches to a soft baby-skin pink. His leg still feels inflamed, but that burn was far deeper. He applies another coat of medicine and quietly pack up his gear. Whatever happens, he's going to have to move and move fast. He also makes himself eat a cracker and a strip of beef and drink a few cups of water.
Almost nothing stayed in his stomach yesterday, and Jack's already starting to feel the effects of hunger. Below him, he can see the High pack asleep on the ground. By her position, leaning up against the trunk of the tree, Taffyta was supposed to be on guard, but fatigue overcame her. Hiccup was finally out of Dagur's grasp, giving the boy a log to hug in replacement of him, and even better than that was the spear in the brunette's left hand and his own green backpack on the other. The boy intended on waiting for Jack, despite his chance of fleeing quite open already.
As if Jack doubted Hiccup's selflessness at all, but it still elated him.
Jack's eyes squint as they try to penetrate the tree next to him, but he can't make out Vanellope. Since she tipped him off, it only seems fair to warn her. Besides, if he's going to die today, it's either Hiccup or Vanellope he wanted to win. The former because he loved him, the latter because she was too young to die.
Jack called Vanellope's name in a hushed whisper and the eyes appear, wide and alert, at once. She points up to the nest again. He holds up his knife and make a sawing motion. She nods and disappears. There's a rustling in a nearby tree. Then the same noise again a bit farther off. The albino realizes she's leaping from tree to tree. It's all Jack can do not to laugh out loud.
Is this what she showed the Game makers?
Jack imagines her bouncing around the training equipment never touching the floor. She should have gotten at least a ten.
Rosy streaks are breaking through in the east. Jack can't afford to wait any longer, or even have Hiccup wait on him any longer. Compared to the agony of initial climb, this one is a cinch for Jack. At the tree limb that holds the nest, he positions the knife in the groove and he's about to draw the teeth across the wood when he sees something moving. There, on the nest. The bright gold gleam of a tracker jacker lazily making its way across the papery gray surface. No question, it's acting a little subdued, but the wasp is up and moving and that means the others will be out soon as well. Sweat breaks out on the palms of Jack's hands, beading up through the ointment, and he does his best to pat them dry on his shirt. If he doesn't get through this branch in a matter of seconds, the entire swarm could emerge and attack him.
There's no sense in putting it off. He takes a deep breath, grip the knife handle and bear down as hard as he can.
Back, forth, back, forth!
The tracker jackers begin to buzz and Jack hears them coming out.
Back, forth, back, forth!
A stabbing pain shoots through his knee and Jack knows one has found him and the others will be honing in.
Back, forth, back, forth.
And just as the knife cuts through, Jack shoves the end of the branch as far away from him as he can. It crashes down through the lower branches, snagging temporarily on a few but then twisting free until it smashes with a thud on the ground.
The nest bursts open like an egg, and a furious swarm of tracker jackers takes to the air.
Jack feels a second sting on the cheek, a third on his neck, and their venom almost immediately makes him woozy. If it made him woozy, then he prayed Hiccup wouldn't get a bite on him as he recalled that day in the parade. A spin was enough to make the boy seriously woozy. As much as he loved clinging to the boy, they had to make a steady run for it as soon as Jack makes it down. The albino clings to the tree with one arm while he rips the barbed stingers out of his flesh. Fortunately, only these three tracker jackers had identified him before the nest went down. The rest of the insects have targeted their enemies on the ground.
And Hiccup was on a path, ready to escape as soon as a certain albino touched down.
~o~
It's mayhem.
The Highs have woken to a full-scale tracker jacker attack. Azula and a few others have the sense to drop everything and bolt. Jack can hear cries of "To the lake! To the lake!" and know they hope to evade the wasps by taking to the water. It must be close if they think they can outdistance the furious insects. Taffyta and another girl, the one from District 4, are not so lucky. They receive multiple stings before they're even out of view. Taffyta appears to go completely mad, shrieking and trying to bat the wasps off with her hand, which is pointless. She calls to the others for help but, of course, no one returns. The girl from District 4 staggers out of sight, although Jack wouldn't bet on her making it to the lake. The albino watches Taffyta fall, twitch hysterically around on the ground for a few minutes, and then go still.
The nest is nothing but an empty shell. The wasps have vanished in pursuit of the others. Jack doesn't think they'll return, and so he scampers down the tree and hit the ground. The poison from the stingers makes him wobbly, and Hiccup rushes towards him from his hiding, practically tackling the boy in desperation. Pulling up a bit when he realize the boy wasn't steady. Relieved, Jack encircled his arms around the brunette's slim waist.
"Gods," Hiccup swore. "That took you long enough!"
Jack gives a shaky laugh, then frowns, seeing the hickey on the brunette's neck. His blood boiled, remembering the nickname given to him a while back. He caressed it, making Hiccup flinched but not recoil. "Yeah, I know," Jack muttered. "sorry I was late."
Hiccup pulled away, and offered a small smile. "Better than never," He shrugged, and therefore handed over the spear with it's sheath. Jack returned the favor, giving his knife. Knowing Hiccup could better make use of it.
They find their way back to Jack's little pool and submerged themselves in the water, just in case any wasps are still on their trail. After about five minutes, Jack drags himself onto the rocks with Hiccup's support, who was not a victim of the wasps. People have not exaggerated the effects of the tracker jacker stings. At one point, he actually thought he saw Emma, and was wondering why she cut her hair or holding a knife, and panicked, thinking that somehow since she really was the one chosen for the games, they got her to be here. Then he realize it was just Hiccup looking over his new weapon, grimacing at it and considering whether he'd even use it for anything liken to killing. The sting on Jack's knee is closer to an orange than a plum in size. A foul-smelling green liquid oozes from the places where Jack pulls out the stingers. Hiccup swatted his hands, telling him to leave them alone. They make their way to a slope and started trekking upwards. Jack kept staring at his stinging skin.
The swelling. The pain. The ooze. Watching Taffyta twitching to death on the ground. It's a lot to handle before the sun has even cleared the horizon. Jack didn't want to think about what Taffyta must look like now. Her body disfigured. Her swollen fingers... Jack searches his mind for a new thought. And something does come, but it isn't any better.
"What about Toothless?" He asked quietly.
Hiccup's shoulder shook, and he tried to steel himself. "I lost him in the fire attack... Not sure where he took off to after his bounds burnt off..." He admitted.
"Well, that doesn't mean he's dead." Jack told him. "we'll find him. Didn't you tell me once he could always seem to find you?"
Hiccup nodded, but you can clearly see he wasn't about to hope for anything. Not while in the arena. Suddenly, his eyes shot open, and he stared at Jack.
"Why do I not like the look of that?"
"The waist pack! It has the slingshot you can use, other spearheads and even a crook! Similar to the ones you used back home, right? It's still with Taffyta."
Somewhere in Jack's befuddled mind one thought connects to another and he's on his feet, teetering through the trees back to Taffyta. The waist pack. It's supplies. Hiccup's right to be alarmed, Jack must get them. Then the two may even stand a chance. They haven't heard the cannons fire yet, so perhaps Taffyta is in some sort of coma, her heart still struggling against the wasp venom. But once it stops and the cannon signals her death, a hovercraft will move in and retrieve her body, taking the only complementing supplies to Jack's spear the boys have seen out of the Games for good. And both of them refused to let the supplies slip through their fingers. If Jack was going to survive, he needed those supplies, those ammo. If the boy was gonna make sure he can better protect Hiccup later, he needed them bad.
They reach Taffyta just as the cannon fires. The tracker jackers have vanished. This girl, so breathtakingly beautiful in her pink-rose and gemmed gown the night of the interviews, is unrecognizable. Her features eradicated, her limbs three times their normal size. The pack is pinned under her back. Jack tries to roll over her body by pulling on one arm, but the flesh disintegrates in his hands and he fell back on the ground.
Is this real? Or have the hallucinations begun?
Jack squeezes his eyes tight and try to breathe through his mouth, ordering himself not to become sick. Breakfast must stay down, it might be days before he can hunt again. Even if Hiccup was sane enough to hunt, he wasn't gonna let the boy go off without him on his own. A second cannon fires and Jack's guessing the girl from District 4 has just died. The boys hear the birds fall silent and then one give the warning call, which means a hovercraft is about to appear. Confused, Jack think it's for Taffyta, although this doesn't quite make sense because they were still in the picture, still fighting for the supplies. He lurches back onto his knees and the trees around him begin to spin in circles. In the middle of the sky, Hiccup spots the hovercraft. He struggled with Taffyta's body for the waist pack when he realize Jack was having trouble with the stings to do it himself. Then they see the girl from District 4 being lifted into the air and vanishing and Hiccup yanks the pack free, dragging Jack and himself out of the way, fearing something could impale either of them if they stayed too long, but that was ridiculous. Hiccup just can't help but feel that this scenario was just like with the Sandys.
Then they hear the footsteps, several pairs, coming through the underbrush, and the boys realize the Highs have come back. They've come back to kill them or get their weapons or both.
Is it too late to run? It could be. Jack swings the pack to his waist as he grabbed it from the brunette and he takes out a slimy spearhead from the pack, attaching it to the spear's slot, the stench from the stings is so repulsive. I can do it. I can do it.
I can't do it.
He's weak and powerless as the first hunter crashes through the trees, sword lifted, it was Dagur.
Hiccup snaps at the Jack, putting the spear back into the sheathe and forces him to take off with him, not wanting to be captured by the Deranged District 2 boy once more. Hiccup was indeed fast, even while tugging Jack along behind him. Behind the boys, Dagur slashes his way through the brush and goes after them. He's sparkling wet, badly stung under one eye. He throws a dagger, Hiccup ducks through it, pulling Jack to keep up with him in his woozy state. In the process, his leg gets caught in twisted roots and the brunette howled in pain as it bends in the wrong way making more than just a bad sprain to his already limping leg. Hiccup could barely keep running, and Jack's weight leaning the opposite direction from where Hiccup wanted to go didn't help, forcing him to follow the said boy's weight over an edge.
The world seemed to bend in alarming ways for Jack. A butterfly balloons to the size of a house then shatters into a million stars. Trees transform to blood and splash down over his boots. Ants begin to crawl out of the blisters on his hands and he can't shake them free. They're climbing up his arms, his neck. Someone's screaming, a long high pitched scream that never breaks for breath until there was a loud sound the seemed to be waves splashing.
Jack was too disoriented to register that they've fallen some sort of edge and into a flowing river.
The albino had a vague idea the scream might be him. All he sees is a brown blur with something green attached to it trying to reach him but being taken another direction into a small pit lined with tiny orange bubbles that hum like the tracker jacker nest. Sinking and submerging into something cool, Jack waits for death. Sick and disoriented, he's able to form only one thought: Hiccup was once again separated from him. And it was his own woozy fault.
"JAAACK!"
That's the last thing he hears. Then the ants bore into his eyes and he blacks out.
~o~
Jack enters a nightmare from which he wakes repeatedly only to find a greater terror awaiting him. All the things he dreaded most, all the things he dreads for others manifest in such vivid detail he can't help but believe they're real. Each time he wakes, he thinks, At last, this is over, but it isn't.
It's only the beginning of a new chapter of torture.
How many ways does he watch Emma die?
Relive his father's last moments despite never once seeing it for himself?
Sees his mother walk blindly off a cliff?
Feel his own body ripped apart?
Watch Hiccup violated and molested before his very eyes?
This is the nature of the tracker jacker venom, so carefully created to target the place where fear lives in your brain.
When Jack finally does come to his senses, he lies still, waiting for the next onslaught of imagery. But eventually he accepted that the poison must have finally worked its way out of his system, leaving his body wracked and feeble. He's still lying on his side, locked in the fetal position. Jack lifts a hand to his eyes to find them sound, untouched by ants that never existed. Simply stretching out his limbs requires an enormous effort. So many parts of him hurt, it doesn't seem worthwhile taking inventory of them. Very, very slowly Jack manages to sit up. He's in a shallow hole, not filled with the humming orange bubbles of his hallucination but with old, dead leaves. His clothing's damp, but he doesn't know whether pond water, dew, rain, or sweat is the cause. Doesn't remember the river he fell into. For a long time, all Jack can do is take tiny sips from his bottle and watch a beetle crawl up the side of a honeysuckle bush.
How long have I been out?
It was morning when he lost his mind. Now it's afternoon. But the stiffness in his joints suggests more than a day has passed, even two possibly. If so, he'll have no way of knowing which Lights survived that tracker jacker attack. Not Taffyta or the girl from District 4. But there was the boy from District 1, both Lights from District 2, Dagur and Azula. Did they die from the stings? Certainly if they lived, their last days must have been as horrid as his own. And what about Vanellope? She's so small, it wouldn't take much venom to do her in. But then again... the tracker jackers would've had to catch her, and she had a good head start.
A foul, rotten taste pervades Jack's mouth, and the water has little effect on it. He drags himself over to the honeysuckle bush and pluck a flower. He gently pulls the stamen through the blossom and set the drop of nectar on his tongue. The sweetness spreads through his mouth, down his throat, warming his veins with memories of home, and his woods and Jamie's presence beside him. For some reason, the discussion from that last morning comes back to him.
"We could do it, you know."
"What?"
"Leave the district. Run off. Live in the woods. You and I, we could make it."
And suddenly, Jack's not thinking of considering the idea of fleeing with Jamie but with Hiccup and...
Hiccup!
Jack shot up from wherever he sat, looking around. There was his newly obtained spear in its sheath with the waist pack that bear no trace of the noxious green slime that came from Taffyta's body, which leads Jack to believe that might not have been wholly real but they have a fair amount of dried blood on them. He can clean them later, but he does get a sling and take a minute to shoot a few spearhead into a nearby tree experimentally, managing to catch two squirrels by surprise, killing them in an instant. They are more like the weapons in the Training Center than the one's back at home, but that he could work with. He knew he had tough opponents left to face. But he's no longer merely prey that runs and hides or takes desperate measures. If Dagur broke through the trees right now, Jack wouldn't flee, he'd fight and kill, him especially. Jack would find that he's actually anticipating the moment with pleasure if he wasn't still searching for what was missing.
Hiccup.
He then sees a few herbal leaves stuck up against his arms like makeshift bandages, and knew they were the kinds that nursed wounds and gives off a scent that eases hallucinations. He hoped Hiccup had been the one who placed them on him, and just went off to search for food. But he doubted the boy would leave him out in the opening or hunt with only a knife. But there's no one else there. No one Jack can see anyway. Then he spots the tip of a child's boot just peeking out from behind the trunk of a tree.
He was disappointed at the realization but his shoulders relax and he grins. She can move through the woods like a shadow, you have to give her that. How else could she have followed me?
The words come out of his mouth before he can stop them.
"You know, they're not the only ones who can form alliances," He says.
For a moment, no response. Then one of Vanellope's eyes edges around the trunk. "You want me for an ally?"
"Why not? You saved me with those tracker jackers. You're smart enough to still be alive. And I can't seem to shake you anyway," Jack shrugged. She blinks at him, trying to decide. "You hungry?" Jack can see her swallow hard, eyeing the two squirrels he maimed. "Come on then, I've had two kills today."
Vanellope tentatively steps out into the open. "I fixed your stings and your hallucination problem." she says incase Jack needed more motivation not to kill her.
"Kinda figured that out on my own."
"Then can you also figure out on your own that your breath smells, not exactly complimenting your teeth?"
"Hey."
"No wonder that brunette won't kiss you yet."
"Hey!" Jack blushed heatedly at the banter when he realizes something. "Do you know what happened to him?"
Vanellope nodded, giving him a pointed look. "I saw it happen. Because of your tipsiness, both of you ended up falling over an edge to a raging river." She informed the albino. "he flowed off a different way, although he did struggle to get to you, well, more than you did anyway,"
Jack's shoulders slumped dejectedly.
"Nice going, lover boy."
Jack growled at that, but without heat.
"Hey, why are your ears so freakishly big?"
Jack huffed. "Uh I don't know, why are you so freakishly annoying?" He shot back.
"Well, why are you—?" Vanellope was about to comment when she saw something fall off Jack's pack. "Sweet mother of monkey-milk!" She screams when she sees the sunglasses. "How did you get those?" she asked.
Jack looked at his pack, following the direction of her eyes. "In my pack. They've been useless so far. They don't block the sun and they make it harder to see,"
Vanellope narrowed her eyes. "Hey genius, these aren't for sun, they're for darkness," she says this with matching eye roll. "Sometimes, when we harvest through the night, they'll pass out a few pairs to those of us highest in the trees. Where the torchlight doesn't reach. One time, this boy Bill, we call him sour bill, he tried to keep his pair. Hid it in his pants. They killed him on the spot."
"They killed a boy for taking these?"
"Yes, and everyone knew he was no danger. Sour bill wasn't right in the head. I mean, he still acted like a three-year-old. He just wanted the glasses to play with," says Vanellope.
Hearing this makes Jack feel like District 12 is some sort of safe haven. Of course, people keel over from starvation all the time, but he can't imagine the Guardians murdering a simple-minded child. There's a little girl, one of Gothi's grand kids, who wanders around the Hob. She's not quite right, but she's treated as a sort of pet. People toss her scraps and things.
"So what do these do?" Jack takes the glasses.
"They let you see in complete darkness," says Vanellope. "Try them tonight when the sun goes down."
Then both their stomach growls. Jack smirked, "How about you grab those squirrels and I start up some smoke to cook it with?"
"You weren't joking, about wanting me for an ally?" Vanellope asks.
"No, I meant it," Jack said.
He can almost hear Aster groaning as he teams up with this wispy child. But Jack wanted her. Because she's a survivor, and he trusted her, and why not admit it? She reminds him of Emma if he didn't count the sassy personality.
"Okay," she says, and holds out her hand. They shake. "It's a deal."
Of course, this kind of deal can only be temporary, but neither of them mentions that. Vanellope contributes a big handful of some sort of starchy root to the meal. Roasted over the fire, they have the sharp sweet taste of a parsnip. For a while, all conversation stops as they fill their stomachs. The grease drips down their face when they bite into it.
"Oh," says Vanellope with a sigh. "I've never had a whole leg to myself before."
Jack can bet she hasn't. He'll bet meat hardly ever comes her way. "Take the other,"
"Really?" she asks.
"Take whatever you want. Now that I've got a spear and ammo pack, I can get more. Plus I've got snares. I can show you how to set them," Jack says. Vanellope still looks uncertainly at the leg. "Oh, take it," The albino says, putting the drumstick in her hands. Crossing his arms so she can't return it. It will only keep a few days anyway, once she's got hold of it, her appetite wins out and she takes a huge mouthful. "I'd have thought, in District Eleven, you'd have a bit more to eat than us. You know, since you grow the food,"
"Nah, we're not allowed to eat the crops."
"They arrest you or something?"
"They whip you and make everyone else watch," says Vanellope. "The mayor's very strict about it."
Jack can tell by her expression that it's not that uncommon an occurrence. A public whippings a rare thing in District 12, although occasionally one occurs. Technically, Jamie and Jack could be whipped on a daily basis for poaching in the woods... Well, they could get a whole lot worse except all the officials buy their meat. Besides, the mayor, Hiccup's friend, Heather's father, doesn't seem to have much taste for such events. Maybe being the least prestigious, poorest, most ridiculed district in the country has its advantages.
Such as, being largely ignored by Berk as long as they produce their ice quotas.
Leave it to Berk to find uses for it. With so much snow year round, District 12 rarely has use for it at all.
"Do you get all the ice you want?" Vanellope asks.
Jack shakes his head. "No, and not much use for it even if we did. We get all the snow we want, though." He jokes.
"They feed us a bit extra during harvest, so that people can keep going longer," says Vanellope, pertaining to the harvest.
"Don't you have to be in school?" Jack raised a brow.
"Not during harvest. Everyone works then,"
Jack found It's interesting, hearing about her life. There's so little communication with anyone outside his own district. In fact, Jack wondered if the Game makers are blocking out their conversation, because even though the information seems harmless, they don't want people in different districts to know about one another.
At Vanellope's suggestion, they lay out all their food to plan ahead. She's seen most of Jack's, but he added the last couple of crackers and beef strips to the pile. She's gathered quite a collection of roots, nuts, greens, and even some berries.
Jack rolls an unfamiliar berry in his fingers, trying to recall if Hiccup said anything about it. "You sure this is safe?"
Vanellope looks over. "Oh, sure, we have them back home. I've been eating them for days," she says, popping a handful in her mouth. Jack tentatively bites into one, and it's as good as blackberries. Taking Vanellope on as an ally seems a better choice after all. They divide up their food supplies, so in case they were separated, they'll both be set for a few days. Apart from the food, the girl has a small water skin, a homemade slingshot, and an extra pair of socks. She also has a sharp shard of rock she uses as a knife.
"I know it's not much," she says as if embarrassed, "but It's all I got, I had to get away from the Cornucopia fast."
"You did just right," I say.
Vanellope snorted. "Says the boy who stayed and tried to have a take the spear," She counterpoints. "nice job getting sprayed by the blood, by the way."
Jack scowled, flushing. He gives her some matches and she makes sure Jack had plenty of leaves in case his stings flare up again. They extinguish their fire and head upstream until it's almost nightfall.
"Where do you sleep?" Jack asked her. "In the trees?" She nods. "In just your jacket?"
Vanellope holds up her extra pair of socks. "I have these for my hands and bundle myself up like a little homeless lady," She said, feigning the last part with a cute whiny voice.
Jack thinks of how cold the nights have been. "You can share my sleeping bag if you want. We'll both easily fit."
Her face lights up. Jack can tell this is more than she dared hope for. "Good thing you're gay," She jokes though. The albino flushes once more.
They pick a fork high in a tree and settle in for the night just as the anthem begins to play. There were no deaths today. "Hey kid, I only woke up today. How many nights did I miss?"
"Two," she says. "The girls from Districts One and Four are dead. There's ten of us left." Jack nodded, and opens his mouth to asked about Hiccup but Vanellope beats him to it. "So, is it true?"
Jack raises a brow. "Huh?"
"You know," Vanellope bats her eyes. "You and him," Jack makes a face. She just laughed. "Come on, you were gonna ask about him anyway. Anyway, I think he's okay though, where ever he'll be, it's near water. We can go find him tomorrow, if you want. So, did he break your heart when he signed up with those Highs to kill you?"
Jack shook his head. "More like he was held hostage," He shrugged. "Maybe the Highs wanted us to play the Damsel-in-Distress and Knight-in-Shining armor scenario, I guess."
"Yeah which one are you in those choices?" Vanellope smirked.
Jack raises a brow, "The Knight, duh. Or was the hostage taking not enough hint to Hiccup's role?"
"I don't know," Vanellope grinned. "you're the gay one."
Jack huffed indignantly. "Would you please sto—" He trailed off when Vanellope raised her fingers excitedly.
"One more, one more," she insisted. Jack moaned and waited. "Why would a girl break up with you if you were her boyfriend?" she giggled. "Say why,"
Scrunching up his nose, making a scowl, Jack complied. "Why?"
"Because you weren't straight with her!"
Jack groaned. "Is this gonna be a regular thing with you?"
The anthem ends and the sky goes dark. Jack tries out the glasses, pulling them out and slips them on. Vanellope wasn't kidding. Jack can see everything from the leaves on the trees to a skunk strolling through the bushes a good fifty feet away. He could kill it from here if he had a mind to. He could kill anyone.
"I wonder who else got a pair of these," Jack says.
"The Highs have two pairs. But they've got everything down by the lake," Vanellope says. "And gotta admit, they're so strong."
"We're strong, too," Jack pointed out. "Just in a different way."
"You are. You can throw a spear," she says. "What can I do?"
"You can feed yourself." Jack frowned. She was almost as bad as Hiccup in underrating. "Can they?" He retorts.
"They don't need to, genius. They have all those supplies," Vanellope says.
"Say they didn't. Say the supplies were gone. How long would they last?" Jack asked pointedly. "They'd battle hunger, and might not win."
"But, Jack, they're not hungry,"
"No, they're not. That's the problem," Jack agrees. He comes up with a plan. A plan that isn't motivated by the need for flight and evasion. An offensive plan. "I think we're going to have to fix that, kid."
Looks like finding Hiccup would have to wait.
~o~
Vanellope has decided to trust Jack wholeheartedly. He knows this because as soon as the anthem finishes she snuggles up against him and falls asleep. Nor does Jack have any misgivings about her, as he takes no particular precautions. If she'd wanted him dead, all she would have had to do was disappear from that tree without pointing out the tracker jacker nest. Needling him, at the very back of his mind, is the obvious. Both of them can't win these Games. But since the odds are still against either of them surviving, Jack manages to ignore the thought the same way he can't go home together with Hiccup.
Besides, Jack's distracted by his latest idea about the Highs and their supplies. Somehow Vanellope and he must find a way to destroy their food. He's pretty sure feeding themselves will be a tremendous struggle. Traditionally, the High Lights strategy is to get hold of all the food early on and work from there. The years when they have not protected it well, one year a pack of hideous reptiles destroyed it, another a Game makers flood washed it away, those are usually the years that Lights from other districts have won. That the Highs have been better fed growing up is actually to their disadvantage, because they don't know how to be hungry. Not the way Jack, Hiccup and Vanellope does.
But Jack's too exhausted to begin any detailed plan tonight. His wounds recovering, his mind still a bit foggy from the venom, and the warmth of Vanellope at his side, her head cradled on his shoulder, have given him a sense of security. It wasn't Hiccup's warmth, but Jack figured he shouldn't get used to that too much. Jack realizes, for the first time, how very lonely he's been in the arena. How comforting the presence of another human being can be. His reunion with Hiccup was short-lived. Jack gives in to his drowsiness, resolving that tomorrow the tables will turn. Tomorrow, it's the Highs who will have to watch their backs.
The boom of the cannon jolts Jack awake. The sky's streaked with light, the birds already chattering. Vanellope perches in a branch across from him, her hands cupping something. They wait, listening for more shots, but there aren't any.
"Who do you think that was?" Jack can't help thinking of Hiccup.
"I dunno. It could have been any of the others," says Vanellope. "I guess we'll know tonight."
"Who's left again?" Jack asked.
"The boy from District One. Both Lights from Two. The boy from Three. Ralphie and me. And you and Hamish," says Vanellope. "That's eight. Wait, and the boy from Ten, the one with the bad arm. He makes nine."
There's someone else, but neither of them can remember who it is. "Wished it's that boy from two," Jack mutters darkly.
"Because he sorta kissed your man?" Vanellope guessed. Jack blinked and looked at her. "Hey, just pieces to the puzzle."
He squinted his eyes at her. "How long were you on that tree?"
"Long enough," She just laughed. "I wonder how that last one died." she said.
"No telling. But it's good for us. A death should hold the crowd for a bit. Maybe we'll have time to do something before the Game makers decide things have been moving too slowly," Jack says. "What's in your hands?"
"Breakfast," says Vanellope. She holds them out revealing two big eggs.
"What kind are those?"
"Not sure. There's a marshy area over that way. Some kind of waterbird," she says.
It'd be nice to cook them, but neither of them wants to risk a fire. The two guessed that the Light who died today was a victim of the Highs, which means they've recovered enough to be back in the Games. The two each suck out the insides of an egg, eat a squirrel leg and some berries. It's a good breakfast anywhere.
"Ready to do it?" Jack asked, pulling on his pack.
"Do what?" Vanellope questions, but by the way she bounces up, Jack could tell she's up for whatever he proposes.
"Today we take out the Highs food."
"Really? How?" Jack sees the glint of excitement in her eyes. In this way, she's exactly the opposite of Emma for whom adventures are an ordeal.
"No idea. Come on, we'll figure out a plan while we hunt,"
~o~
They didn't get much hunting done though because Jack's too busy getting every scrap of information he can out of Vanellope about the High's base. She's only been in to spy on them briefly, but she's observant.
"They have set up their camp beside the lake. Their supply stash is about thirty yards away. During the day, they've been leaving another Light, the boy from District 3, to watch over the supplies."
"The boy from District Three? He's working with them?"
"Yes, he stays at the camp full-time. He got stung, too, when they drew the tracker jackers in by the lake, I guess they agreed to let him live if he acted as their guard. But he's not very big."
"What weapons does he have?"
"Not much that I could see. A few knives. He might be able to hold a few of us off with them if he's got good aim, but I bet Ralphie could kill him easily barehanded, he has freakishly big hands." says Vanellope.
She had a thing for pointing out a person's freakish quality.
"And the food's just out in the open?" Jack asked.
Vanellope nods. "Something's not quite right about that whole setup." She said. Jack agreed. "But I couldn't tell what exactly," she admitted. "Jack, even if you could get to the food, how would you get rid of it?"
"Burn it. Dump it in the lake. Soak it in fuel." He pokes Vanellope in the belly, just like he would Emma. "Eat it!" She giggles. "Don't worry, I'll think of something. Destroying things is much easier than making them."
For a while, they dig roots, gather berries and greens, they devised a strategy in hushed voices. And Jack comes to know Vanellope, the oldest of six kids in their District's community home, nothing like District 12's, she's fiercely protective of them, gives her rations to the younger ones, she forages in the meadows in a district where the Guardians are far less obliging than the one's in Jack's. She even tips him off on Hiccup.
"Your boyfriend likes Dragons, I think. And drawing."
Jack blushed. "He's not my—" He let it drop midway, knowing it was no used. "Dragons huh?"
"Yeah, before he got captured, if we go along with your version of the story."
Jack scowled. "He was captured." No way would he willingly go with that crazy kid.
"So anyway, if he draws you then that might be a step up. I saw him sketching on ground dirt. He was drawing a bunch of Dragons, flying even though they really can't now. His cat was still with him, and another hint is that he has that Nightfury pin," Vanellope scrunches up her nose. "Kinda dangerous,"
Jack thought about it. "Not really, it did save him rather than eat him."
"Not that, genius," Vanellope rolled her eyes. "Having a Nightfury pin."
Jack cocked his head. "How come?"
"Say he wins, the pin will be iconic for a while. Made into the trending merchandise after the games," The girl explained. "and, well, you know... how about that for another slap in the face for Berk? It is seen as the symbol of rebellion after all. But it could be worse, I guess."
Jack raised a curious brow "How so?" The albino asked.
"It'd be worse if he was the outspoken rebel-type," she said carelessly as if it were nothing. "if there's something he wanted to prove."
Jack fell cold and silent, remembering Hiccup's words on the roof.
...I don't know how to say it exactly. Only... I want to die as myself. Does that make any sense?
...but if I had a choice, I wouldn't give in to them. Just... I keep wishing I could think of a way to... to show Berk they don't own me. Any of us. I want to prove to them that we're more than just a pawn in their Games.
~o~
By lunch, they have a plan. By early afternoon, they are poised to carry it out. Jack helps Vanellope collect and place the wood for the first two campfires, the third shell have time for on her own. They decided to meet afterward at the site where they ate their first meal together. The stream should help guide Jack back to it. Before he leaves, he makes sure Vanellope's well stocked with food and matches. He even insists she takes the sleeping bag, in case it's not possible to rendezvous by nightfall.
"What about you? Won't you be cold?" she asks.
Jack grinned. "Hey, I live with snow the best part of my life. Besides, gotta live up to my stage name. And I can always pick up another bag down by the lake," he shrugged. "You know, stealing isn't illegal here,"
They made a deal to signal each other with making bird noises with their hand. They practiced so they knew the distinct sound. Four counts, to say that they can't make it back in time.
"If all goes according to plan, I'll see you for dinner,"
Unexpectedly, Vanellope throws her arms around him. She never crossed Jack as affectionate. He only hesitates a moment before he hugs her back.
"You be careful," she says to him.
"You, too," he says. Jack turned and head back to the stream, feeling somehow worried. About Vanellope being killed, about her not being killed and the two of them being left for last, about leaving her alone, about leaving Emma alone back home. No, Emma has Mrs. Overland and Jamie.
Vanellope has only Jack.
A/N: Yeah, so, please tell me you got the straight joke of Vanellope's. Because like Drac said in Hotel Transylvania "Don't explain, it's not funny when you do that." and it was the best I can come up with. Please review and respond to my plea of help in regards to Finnick and Annie's casting. I can't decide which story you guys would like to hear most. I saw review your answer okay? Not PM. For the sake of the guest reviewers.
If it helps, I'm considering not killing off Finnick here.