I don't own the Hunger Games, only this story and the original characters.
Chapter 14
Somewhere, someone yells my name. It's far away. Suddenly, something cool washes over my head, and down my back. I open my eyes. Dimitri leans over me. "Carmen!" he screams. The panic in his voice escalates, and I can't help but feel some satisfaction. My head is throbbing. I touch the back of it and it is sticky and smells like fruit punch.
That's funny, I think. I don't remember blood smelling like that. In fact, I don't remember what blood smells like. It doesn't matter. I'm tired and close my eyes. People in white lab coats surround me.
"How many fingers am I holding up?" One medic asks. They lift me onto a stretcher and fit me with a neck brace before they lift me to take me to wherever they're taking me.
"Two." I answer. I feel hot and cold at the same time.
"Do you know your name?"
"Carmen Hyde." So tired.
"Stay with me," The medic says loudly.
"When's your birthday?" He shines a light into my eyes.
"I'm going to be sick." Somehow, I doubt that's the answer they want. They roll me onto my side and I vomit in to a kidney-shaped basin.
"When's you're birthday?" He asks again.
"February 8th."
"Do you know where you are?"
"Dimitri."
"I'm here," Dimitri says. He takes my hand and squeeze it again. "Just answer his question, sweetheart."
I'm going to be sick again. "Private sessions."
"Where?" Dimitri presses.
"The arena."
"Close enough," Dimitri mutters.
The medic pauses to consider my answer. He has sandy blond hair and blue eyes. His badge says his name is Lance.
"No," I murmur. I just want to back to the cold dark space where I can sleep. I don't want to deal with Dimtri. I don't want to deal with the Games. I don't want to know why Katniss saw someone in the woods, and why the Capitol know that. Who is this Dimitri person, anyway?
"Carmen." Dimitri says. He clutches my hand. The movement from them carrying me makes me dizzy and I will myself not to puke again. I try to go back to sleep. Every time single time I try to close my eyes to go to that dark, quiet place, that bastard Dimiti pinches me. I want to have him and that medic shot and killed.
"Stop pinching me." My voice is slurred. "I want to go to sleep."
"You can't sleep until they look at your brain." Dimitri strokes the top of my head, gently. "I'm sorry, baby, but that's the way it works."
I want to tell him that my head hurts, but I can't find the words. The medics seem to be finding every bump in the floor. As we move, I seem to be getting colder, like someone cranked up the air conditioning. They pile more blankets on me, but it doesn't seem to help.
I don't remember much about what happens next, other than they're yelling something about going into shock. All of that seems far away. The only thing that seems real is the cold that infiltrating my body and seeping through my veins. I am awake, but I don't understand what's going on around me. I feel numb and I can't focus on anything. They keep asking me my name and the date. Carmen. Two days before the Hunger Games begin. They probably know more about me than I know about myself.
Everything you do, what you eat, what you say, who you say it to, is known by the Capitol. Everything what has been said and done by the tributes is recorded. Anything illegal you've done automatically puts your name into the reaping ball. The majority of them are rigged. For instance in this year's District 8 female tribute is the mayor's daughter According to her file, her father was authorizing shipments of blankets to go to poorer districts so that they wouldn't freeze in the winter. The Capitol is using the Games as a warning. The tribute's profiles note that.
Every time you disobey the Capitol, you get a mark on your record. People like Katniss and her "cousin" Gale probably have lots of marks against them since they break the law on a daily basis. They knew she would take her sister's place. Too many marks mean your death. Of course, the Capitol has to cleverly arrange it. An accident. A fire. Suicide. Your kid randomly ends up dead. Kill someone you love to make you stop. Nothing is ever accident. You sneeze, they know. You're in the wrong spot at the wrong time, they'll know. They'll just file that away to use against you later. Even the trees have eyes. That's what I learned in District 8.
A light switch has turned on in my brain. I can move and feel again. I don't know where I am or how much time has passed. My head aches. Dimitri sits in a chair at my bedside flipping through a magazine. My pocketbook and notebook are in his lap. "Welcome back to the land of the living."
"Where is my sister?" I ask. My mouth tastes like stale vomit.
Dimitri frowns. "You don't have a sister. You're the only child. I called you're mother, but she can't come because she has some social engagement. Your grandmother is a mentor for District 8. One of them had to pull out because they got really sick."
"But she was working with me at the loom, and then the fire started. I don't remember what happened after that." I say. "She's only twelve. I have to find her. Please Dimitri."
He opens his mouth and then closes it. "I'll go ask the nurse."
He walks out of the room and catches one of the medics. I strain to hear what they're talking about, but it hurts too much to move my head.
Dimitri comes back and he's smiling. He gives me an ice pack to put on my head. "You're sister's okay. She's in critical condition so she has to stay, but you can go home."
"Can I see her?"
"No, she's in a special unit. They don't let people back there. I asked." He takes my hand and squeezes it. "How old are you, Carmen?"
"Sixteen," I say.
I can see in his eyes that this is the wrong answer. I try again. "Eighteen?"
"You're twenty." He answers. "It's okay. You hit your head really hard. They said you might be a little disorientated when you woke up."
"How did I hit my head?"
"You fell off your chair and smacked you head," He hesitates. "It's my fault. I thought she was going to shoot you with her arrow. She doesn't miss, you know."
"I'm still cold."
"You're still in shock. It's okay." He pats my arm awkwardly.
"Can I go home?"
"Yes, we can go home. But I have to stay with you, is that okay?"
I nod. I reach up and touch my hair. It is matted and sticky. My fingers find the large goose egg on the back of my head. I wince when I touch it. Dimitri sees my displeasure. "We can fix that too. The doctor… the doctor said it's going to be sore for a few days and you might have some headaches."
A nurse brings a wheelchair. Dimitri helps me swing my legs over the side of the bed and ease into the wheelchair slowly. I'm wearing a hospital gown that has a hole in the back that shows my entire rear. The back of my legs feel sticky.
"Where are my clothes?"
"The punch soaked completely through them and they cut them off of you. I saved your shoes though." Dimitri pulls the hair tie out of his hair and it cascades down his shoulders in fire red waves. Then he takes my gown and bunches it in the back, and secures it with the hair tie.
I sit down in the wheelchair and he puts my boots on my feet. I feel like the girl in the old fairy tale when the prince puts a glass slipper on her foot. Then the nurse tucks a blanket around my legs. Dimitri drapes has black leather jacket around my shoulders. It is warm from his body. My head aches. The drugs aren't working.
Dimitri leaves to go get the car, and the nurse makes small talk with me. She talks about what the tributes wore to the Opening Ceremonies. District 12's was the best. Yes, yes it was.
The car pulls up and the nurse and Dimitri help me into the car. I am shivering even though the air is balmy and warm in the parking garage. My teeth are chattering even though Dimitri turns up the heat. Sweat beads on his forehead and make greasy skid marks down his forehead and cheeks.
Something in my mind says that I should be angry at him. But I'm not. I can't be. I don't remember why I am upset at him in the first place. He's been nothing but kind to me, checking on my sister, tying up the back of my robe, helping me with my shoes, and most importantly, driving my home when my family can't leave their social obligations to take the time to call and check on me.
"What do you remember about today?" Dimitri asks.
I think. Vaguely, I remember sitting in a room and watching people with weapons. I remember something about a hovercraft and hiding in the woods.
Dimitri frowns. "The only reason the Capitol knows Katniss and Gale, I assume that's who you're talking about, know they saw is because when a hovercraft beams someone up they send out a pulse of energy to make sure the area around them is clear. Well, Katniss and her boyfriend weren't out of range. The Capitol was able to see that, and when they analyzed the data from their chips."
"Chips?"
"At birth, we're implanted with chips by the Capitol. They use them to track where we are and what we're doing. Half of the time they fail."
"How do you know?" I'm still cold and shivering.
"You take your chances."
"Where do they put the chips?"
He just shrugs. "Does it matter? It's one of the Capitol's many dirty secrets."
I close my eyes as we speed down the highway towards home. Dimitri's hand reaches into my lap and squeezes my hand. The loving gesture surprises me. Usually such gestures have strings attached.
"What else do you remember about today?" He asks.
I shake my head. "I don't remember anything."
"What's your last memory that sticks out in your mind?"
I take my time answering this question. I try to remember the past few days, but they seem to be a colorful mess of things. "There was a party and dancing," I say. "You kissed me."
He groans and turns on the radio. "You're not going to let me forget that, are you?"
"Why?"
"Why, what?"
"Why did you kiss me?"
Dimitri shrugged. "I drank too much, I guess. I don't really have a good excuse for that."
"Would you do it again?"
"I might." He flashes me a small grin.
I blush. My head throbs and I try to find a comfortable way to rest my head on the headrest. I'm starting to feel very tired again. I'm also so very cold. Dimitri has turned off the heat, probably because he started to die of heat exhaustion. "How much longer until we get home?"
"About ten minutes are so. Depends on the traffic."
"I'm cold."
He turns up the heat again. "I know, just hang in there a little bit longer."
After what seems to feel like forever, we pull into the parking garage for the Gamemakers' and mentors' living quarters. Dimtri drives up to the door. "Wait. I'll help you out."
A Peacekeeper comes out of the toll both. "You can't park here."
"My girlfriend was just discharged from the hospital. I need to take her upstairs and get her settled." Dimitri puts his arm around me protectively. He's holding my pocketbook and notebook. I huddle closer to him for warmth.
The Peacekeeper gives me a once over. We must look like an odd pair, Dimitri and I. "Sorry, sir. We can't make exceptions."
"Should I let someone who's suffering from shock stand out here and get colder because some Capitol nutjob won't temporarily park here. I want to speak to your supervisor when I get back." Dimitri threatens.
I am shaking terribly now and my teeth are chattering so hard, it's making the pain worse in my head.
The Peacekeeper pulls out a thick leather-bound book and opens it. "I'm going to write you a ticket for your failure to follow…"
"Is there a problem?" Elmo asks. He and Lupe are still wearing their purple Gamemaker robes.
"He won't let me park here so I can take Carmen upstairs."
"We can't make exceptions." The Peacekeeper repeats.
"They're both Gamemakers," Elmo explains.
Lupe comes to our rescue. "Dimitri, I'll park your car and bring your keys up to you since they won't cooperate with you. How are you feeling, Carmen?"
I smile weakly and cling to Dimitri. Words escape me right now.
"He didn't say that," The Peacekeeper says.
"I shouldn't have to," Dimitri yells. People have stopped and are staring at us. "You should be able to tell that she's not feeling well. She's shivering for fuck's sake. She's also got a wristband from the hospital and wearing a hospital gown. What else does she need, a fucking neon sign? Go ahead; write me that goddamn ticket, I fucking dare you."
"What's your name, sir?" He clicks his pen. You can tell he enjoys giving tickets by the glee on his face.
Dimitri holds up both of our badges. His voice is deadly. "Dimitri Kral, Gamemaker. I want your name and your supervisor's name."
The Peacemaker's face goes pale as he sees the familiar crest on the two badges. "I'm so sorry sir."
"You should be, you tool." Dimitri spits. He tosses Elmo his keys. "Please don't wreck my car, and get his name for me. I have to take my girl inside."
Elmo and Lupe look bemused.
"You take good care of our girl," Elmo says.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he whispers, wrapping his arm around my waist. We go in the glass doors and wait for the elevator to take us up to our floor. I lean against him, grateful to have him here with me. The ride up makes me feel dizzy and disoriented. The only reason I don't vomit is because I have nothing left in my stomach. I rest my head against his shoulder and try to ignore the flashing lights. I try not to breathe too hard because I don't want him to smell the vomit on my breath.
Finally, the elevator reaches our floor and my teeth are chattering so hard, which in turn makes my head ache so badly that I almost can't stand. Dimitri scoops me up in his arms easily and carries me down the hall. I've only seen someone carried bridal style in old movies.
"I'm sorry my breath smells bad," I say.
He smiles. "You're talking to a Hunger Games Victor, sweetheart. I've smelled a lot worse."
"I really just want to brush my teeth."
"We can do that," he says. He sets me down to open my door. I cling to him because little green dots appear in front of my eyes. Then he picks me up and carries me to my bedroom.
"Thank you," I say, softly.
He just shrugs. "I didn't do much. I just drove you home."
"Did we fight earlier?" I ask. I try to bend down to take off my boots, but I get too dizzy. I cling to Dimitri. He makes me lean against the doorframe as he removes them.
"I…might have said a few things that I shouldn't have," he admits. "What do you remember?"
I shake my head. "I don't remember anything. I just have the feeling that something happened between us. If I don't remember it, it must not be that important, right?"
"Guess not."
"I'm really sticky," I say. "My mouth feels yucky."
A knock on my door interrupts my complaints. "Must be Lupe," Dimitri says. He squeezes my shoulder. I go into the bathroom and brush my teeth. Dimitri and Elmo speak briefly and Dimitri reappears. My head does not like the motion of spitting in the sink and then looking up. Spots appear multiple times. I feel Dimitri's hand on the small of my back, supporting me. I look terrible.
I really want to take a shower, but if I'm having trouble brushing my teeth, there's no way I can make it though washing my hair without help. But if I can't take a shower and get the stickiness off, then I can't get in my bed. I'd get my sheets dirty. The female members of my family don't seem to care that I've suffered a bad injury.
"You okay?" he asks.
"I have a black eye," I say. Tears run down my face. "I keep getting dizzy." No one loves me. My own family has abandoned me for the Hunger Games.
"It comes with the territory of having a concussion. You have a lovely black eye and headaches as a reminder," He says gruffly. "I've had a couple. I know exactly how shitty you feel."
Dimitri gently unbraids my stiff fruit punch soaked hair. It is still damp, after all these hours. I have no idea how much time has passed between hitting my head and now.
"Do you trust me enough to let me help you?"
"Can you?" My voice trails off. I don't want to put him in an awkward position. I'm already indebted to him. I could ask Dimitri. The worst he could say is no.
He pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it on the floor. Then he strips out of his pants, leaving only his black silk boxers. I see his reflection watching mine. His hand is still on my lower back.
I am not as cold any more, but I notice beads of sweat trickling down Dimitri's torso He mush have turned on the heat lamps. I touch the scar on his inner right arm. It is puckered and looks slightly angry. "That's from the tracker in the arena," Dimitri says. "Every victor has one." He points to a few scares on his torso. "These are from a bar fight. The ones on my back, I don't want to talk about."
"What about the ones on your face?" I ask. I lean against him as he takes off the scary mask, with soap and water revealing the handsome man underneath. Despite his scars, I find him extremely attractive.
His expression darkens and it makes the scars look more sinister. "Let's save that story for another time when you're feeling better."
Dimitri turns on the shower, hot enough that it produces steam. He pulls the hair tie out of my gown and it falls open in the back, exposing my black panties. Then he unties the small tie at the top so it falls off of my body and piles at me feet. I feel self-conscious.
"Don't worry; I've seen a naked women before. Your body is fine. You look beautiful, even with that shiner."
I smile and hesitantly remove my bra and panties. At least I wore cute ones today. I lean against him gratefully as he helps me into the shower.
The water washes over me and I sigh deeply. His body brushes against mine as he moves to remove the removable showerhead. Water droplets drip off his nose and face as he uses the showerhead to wet my hair. I hold on to his arms. I've never taken a shower with a man. I wonder if he can tell. I close my eyes and focus instead on staying upright. He turns me around and instructs me to put my hand on the shower wall and asks me to let him know if I get too dizzy. He massages my scalp with shampoo, avoiding the large bump on my head. The shampoo smells woodsy, natural.
"Is this the shampoo you use?" I ask.
"No, this is tea tree oil. It'll get rid of any buildup you have and also the gross punch. You know it was Plutarch that fell in, you know, knocked the whole damn thing over. It would have funny if you weren't lying there on the floor. The rest of their faces…" he chuckles. "It was fucking priceless."
"I thought the punch was blood," I say. "Until I noticed the smell."
He doesn't answer, but instead reaches up and removes the shower head and begins to rinse. "Blood doesn't smell that nice."
"I worked with my sister in the factories of District 8. They make fabric and clothing there. It was my father's orders that when we went there to stay with out grandmother that we work. When I was twelve, I was assigned a loom."
"I know what a loom is," Dimitri interrupts.
"I only had one or two at the most. Some girls had three or four power looms that they supervised. You didn't do the weaving, the loom did that, but every once and a while the thread on the power shuttle would get tangled, knotted or break. To fix this, you needed someone to climb under the machine and tie or untangle the thread." I take a deep breath. "They would use the younger children, eight or nine year-olds because they were small. The… the machines would break and they would send the children to fix them. There was a girl named Lotta. She was friends with my sister… She went to fix a broken thread and her hand got caught in a machine. She lost her entire hand. There was blood everywhere."
Dimitri hugs me and I cry. I haven't thought about my time in District 8 in a long time. He strokes the side of my face. "You're okay."
"There were pools of blood; it stained the entire loom and two others."
"Carmen," He holds me and the water trickles over us both.
"They beat us," I sobbed.
"They can't hurt you here. I won't let them." Dimitri lathers up a luffa and begins to wash my back and shoulders. I still cling to him.
"I don't know why I've decided to tell you this," I whimper.
"Injuries do funny things to us. It reminds us of our mortality, brings to light things we've tried to forget." He grips my shoulders and his forehead touches mine. "You aren't alone."
The bodywash he chooses is vanilla. His voice is soft in my ear. Sensuous. "I love this scent on a woman."
"Really?" I say.
"Yeah, sweet and simple. I'm not a big fan of most of the perfumes. They're a little… overwhelming."
"So—?" I can't tell it he's lying. My gaze flickers downward to his crotch. There is a small bulge there.
"Don't get any ideas. You get to wash the front," He warns as he hands me the luffa. I blush.
He steps out of the shower onto the instant dryer. There, he is dried instantly. He winces and pulls down his boxer shorts. "Static electricity in the wrong places."
I stand under the showerhead and feel the water beat down on my head. I'm starting to feel lightheaded again, but I don't have the heart to call him. He knocks on the wall. "Are you all clean yet? I don't want to scrape you off the shower floor."
I hit the button that turns off the hot water.
"I've got a towel ready, don't worry I'll close my eyes."
I open the glass door. He is waiting there with a large fluffy towel and his eyes are closed. I smile. "Thank you. You can open your eyes now."
"Someone has to take care of you," He says softly. "How are you feeling?"
"Tired."
"Well, you can't go to sleep yet, you have to eat a little something and the tribute scores are being shown tonight."
"I'm not hungry—"
"You puked up everything earlier. Trust me, you need to eat something."
"What if I can't keep it down? Then what?"
He shrugs. "Then you drink ginger ale and eat crackers, and try again later. It's not a big deal. I found you some clothes to put on. They're on the bed. I'm going to go put some clean clothes on and then I'll order us some food." He turns to leave the bathroom.
"Dimitri," I say. I'm starting to get cold again.
"Yeah?" He's standing in the doorway in nothing but his silk boxers with his clothes wadded up in a ball.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome."
Getting dressed is an excruciating process, and my thoughts are in a jumble and I seem to have two left thumbs. Dimitri has laid out a matching purple bra and panty set. I bought these to wear for Graham for our six month anniversary. It's ironic that he chose these. A thought pops in my mind that Dimitri might have an ulterior motive. At this point in time I should probably be more concerned that he has been rooting around in my underwear drawer. Oddly enough, I'm not. In fact, I'm touched by the fact that he took the time to match my underthings with the dark purple silk pajamas my grandmother gave me as a gift on my birthday.
Graham would never take the time to be this thoughtful. When I sprained my ankle when I fell down the stairs, it took him two days to come see me. I doubt he'd help me wash the punch out of my hair or make sure I ate before I went to bed.
I climb under my quilt and hug my knees. I don't have the strength to find another quilt. Carefully, I run my hands through my dry hair. It is smooth and silky. I wince when my fingers find the large goose egg. Dimitri knocks on the door softly. He carries Oliver in one hand and two large blankets in the other. An icepack wrapped in a towel is thrown over his shoulder.
"Thought you might want some extra blankets and a kitten to keep you company. This guy was following me around and meowing. The other one is sleeping on top of the tributes' papers."
"He might be hungry."
"They're going to show the scores in about two hours. Why don't you sleep a little, and I'll wake you up when it's time. It's been a long enough since you hit your head, I think it's safe for you to sleep."
I nod and slide deeper under my covers. Dimitri tucks the extra blankets around me. I close my eyes and I am instantly asleep.
It feels like only a few moments later when Dimitri is gently shaking my shoulder. I groan and rub my eyes.
"It's time for the scores," He says. "I've also ordered Chinese food."
I raise my eyes. "Chinese food?" What is that?"
"It's a kind of food that they used to have in the days before Panem. I was introduced to it…by a friend after winning my Games."
"You really were born in the wrong time period," I joke.
"Yes, well, I'm not the only one. Come eat, the food is going to get cold." He helps me out of bed and then wraps a blanket around my shoulders.
"I didn't know what you would like so I ordered all my favorites."
I chuckle and follow him to the kitchen. On the counter, there are six different kinds of white boxes with wire handles and two bowl containers. The television is already on and is turned to a movie. The Capitol's broadcast will take over all channels. Dimitri pulls out two plates and one pair of silverware.
"You aren't going to eat?"
"Oh yeah, I'm just going to use chopsticks." He shows me two pieces of thin wood. I can't imagine someone eating with them.
"Chopsticks?"
"What kind of Capitol girl are you?" He scoffed. "You've never heard of Chinese food or chopsticks."
"I'm sheltered," I say defensively.
He shrugs. "I wouldn't say that. Not cultured, maybe, is a better word."
"I grew up in a high class society," I snapped.
"But you spent time in District 8?" Dimitri opens a carton.
"Because my father wanted me to because he wanted me to see what life was like outside the Capitol. He didn't want me to be like them, whoever they are. I haven't seen him in four years."
"The Capitol probably didn't like that very much." He opens a few of the boxes. "I met your father, about a year or so ago at a party at President Snow's mansion. He's a very kind man."
"I don't understand why he doesn't come home. I understand he's busy." My voice trails off.
"You ever thought about asking him? You know that your status of Gamemaker allows you direct access to anything you could possibly want: records, people, victors, all-access to the hottest parties, right? Though, I don't recommend looking up your folks' records. You many not like what you find."
"How do I get in touch with my father?" I interrupt.
"Let's eat first, and then I'll show you how to use the database to look up people and how to get in touch with people." He opens all of the cartons. "Sorry, I'm really hungry."
He points to the different cartons and describes what is in each. I chose to try the beef chow mein , sesame chicken, eggrolls and egg drop soup. Dimitri piles his plate full with everything. We sit down just in time for the showings of the scores.
"Was I supposed to do something for that?" I take a bite of the beef chow mein. It tastes wonderful.
"Don't worry, I submitted them for you." He chuckles. "You like it?"
"This is probably some of the best food I've ever had." I take another bite, and suddenly I realize how hungry I actually am.
The anthem plays and they start showing the scores. I try to remember what each tribute did in their private session, but I can't. I have difficulty concentrating on the names. My head still hurts and I can't focus.
"It looks like Katniss will be a target," Dimitri says. "But at least your Rue did well. Tomorrow are their interviews."
"Do I have to go to those?" I ask. My head feels heavy, and I lean against Dimitri's shoulder.
"I think they would exempt you, considering what happened today." He takes both of our plates and sets them on the coffee table. Then he adjusts his position so we are both lying down and my head rests on his chest. He pulls the blanket over both of us.
"I don't want to go."
He strokes my hair. "I'll let them know."
I shouldn't being doing this for several reasons. The first one and probably the biggest reason is that he is my mentor and our relationship is supposed to be professional. He's seen me naked, so I guess professional wouldn't describe our relationship. Secondly, I've only known him for less than a week. Finally, I'm still "officially" with Graham. I bury my face in his shoulder and breathe in deeply. I decide to deal with the guilt tomorrow.
"Are you going?" I ask.
"Do you want me to go?"
"No."
"Then I won't go." He checks his phone and then puts it on the floor by the couch. The kittens climb up and join us. Althea finds a spot on Dimitri's lap and Oliver cuddles on his shoulder.
"I hope you're not allergic to cats," I joke.
His eyes are closed. "The only thing I'm allergic to is Capitol bullshit."
A/n: Please read and review!