Trigger warning: brief mentions of sexual assault at the start of the first tribute POV.
Chapter 25:
Dampero Ramin, Victor of the 108th Hunger Games
Dampero would rather be anywhere else than here, sitting in the mentor room and watching as the anthem plays and the faces of all the dead tributes are shown. He would rather be talking to the terrible crowds of Capitolites, bloodthirsty as they try to change the course of the Games. There was already so much death in just one day… The career boys from One and Four – deaths he would have been happy to see happen in a different year – the girl from Three, both from Five, the boys from Seven and Eight, the girl from Nine. Then there was the girl from Eleven, discovered by Stark while he hunted down Jinx, allowing the girl who caused all this to escape from him…at least, escape for now. The career is still trying to hunt her down, but he isn't getting any additional clues from Bronn. And then…then there's both of the tributes from Six… His tribute…
There is one place he doesn't want to be right now. And that's back home in District Six where he would have to face his friend and tell her how he failed the promise he made to her…
He's a failure.
Dampero puts his face in his hands, refusing to look over at the screens any longer. He wishes they would let him leave this place, yet at the same time, for once he is glad the mentors are trapped in the Capitol until the Games end. But how long will that even be? They're already at the halfway point. Will it be only a couple days? Or will the Gamemakers do whatever it takes to make the Games last longer? He hopes it's the latter. Anything to put off facing Odani Hideki.
"Do…do you need space?"
Dampero moves away one hand just enough to glance over and see his former mentor and friend sitting on the arm of his chair, staring down at him in concern. Dampero sighs and moves his hands to sit back in the chair to look at Embla fully. "Does it ever get easier?"
"Not at all," Embla shakes her head at him before gently pushing him over in the chair so she can squeeze next to him, despite the armchair not being meant for two people. She puts an arm around him and rubs his shoulder, trying to provide him some sort of comfort, but the gesture just makes him feel worse. He doesn't deserve her sympathy. Not after he was a failure.
"It's all my fault…" Dampero whispers to her, turning away so she can't see the tears forming in his eyes, even if she's seen him at his very worst. She's always been there, from the moment he stepped foot on that stage five years ago to the moment he first got home and finally broke from all the death he caused to losing his tribute in each subsequent year. Yet none of the others have hurt him like this. "I promised his sister I would bring him home," he whispers to her as the first tear finally slips down his cheek and he tries to wipe it away discretely before any of the other mentors around can see him like this.
"Look at me," Embla tells him, but he just shakes his head as he avoids her. "I said look at me," she commands again as she grabs his chin and forces him to look at her. Seeing the fire in her eyes brings him back to the train rides in his own year when he was both terrified and awed by one of Six's two victors. "This is not your fault," she starts, emphasizing each word to get it through to him. "It's not your fault and it's not mine and it's not Johan's fault, contrary to what Okeanas still thinks in that thick skull of hers."
Dampero looks around with wide eyes at this statement, certain that Embla's comment is going to bring Okeanas' rage towards them, but she's nowhere to be found. Several victors are nowhere to be found and Dampero knows he should be with them trying to get sponsors. "But I was his mentor."
"Yes, and you did what you could to mentor him before the Games," Embla answers, bringing his attention back to her. "Dampero…" She sighs as she lets go of his face and the fire in her eyes disappears, leaving a look reflecting what's going on in him. "You need to learn sooner than later that there's only so much we can do for them. We can try all we want to aid them and give them strategy and get what little sponsors we can. But at some point…it's up to them to survive."
"But they didn't even get the chance!" Dampero's voice wavers as it increases in volume, bringing over the watery gaze of Letha, only making him feel worse for further upsetting the new victor. He lowers his voice, but the wavering is still present. "They died before even getting the chance to try and win."
"And that's the case for a handful of tributes each year. There's always some that never make it past the start. That's why it's called a bloodbath… With time, you'll find it's easier to lose them at the start before you can start to get hope in you that maybe this year it will be the year that they actually win." Embla takes a shaky breath before shutting her eyes and leaning her head on his shoulder, surprising him as she's normally the one comforting him, acting almost as a second mother to him. "Because it's very rare that they actually win. I spent twenty years waiting for someone else to win. So trust me, it's easier to not have that hope. It will hurt less when they inevitable die. Trust me, Dampero."
She may be right…but he can't think that this year. Dampero knows that he didn't just lose Ryo. He's also lost his best friend.
Beta Fanto, 16, District Three
Beta has known deep sadness before, the kind that has made it feel like his heart was ripped out. Sadness that has hung around him for months on end, wrapped like a vice around his chest and making the things he once found enjoyable no longer bring that spark of happiness. He lost his sister when he was only ten. His best friend just…gone in two days times and no potions he made could save her. Nothing could have prepared him for that loss, yet he dug himself out of all-consuming grief. He found focus on bringing her soul back and save her from her untimely release. He knows it wasn't time for Copper to leave him and he knows he'll get her back someday. And he holds onto that knowledge, using it as a bandage against the grief locked deep inside him.
Beta has known deep rage before, fiery hot anger that burnt through him rapidly. Anger that clouded his vision and only kept him focused on one thing: revenge. Revenge against the inhuman people that forced themselves on Tracer, taking away so much from them and dimming their light. He had wanted nothing more than to see them experience the pain they inflicted on his only friend, see them destroyed for ever hurting such a kind and gentle soul. But the rage burnt out quickly after they got their revenge. He cast the curses and Tracer has been healing since then. They have moved past the anger together.
But never has Beta experienced grief and rage together like this. All he can focus on as he gasps for air between deep sobs that cause his chest to ache is the image replaying over and over again of the explosions that took away his friends. Over and over and over again, hearing the screams before they were suddenly cut off with a bang. Beta has known death before. He has looked at death before and seen it's many faces and remained unflinching from blood and pain. But he was not prepared for the face death would wear this time as it took away his two friends.
Beta clutches the glass railing of the staircase as he gasps for air around his sobs and he leans against it, struggling to keep it together to keep pulling himself up the stairs to the roof. The thought of the cool night air on his face beneath the growing moonlight has been the only thing keeping him together, yet his legs are as heavy as his chest and he doesn't know if he can take one more step.
"Why?" Beta gasps as his tears fall onto his glasses, causing it to blur and remind him of life before he ever received them. Life before he had gained two new friends in such a short time and had them ripped away from him just as quickly. "WHY?!" Beta shouts, bringing his head up to stare through the glass ceiling to darkening sky. He can see the first star appearing as he stands there, staring up at the star as hot tears fall down his cheeks and start causing damp spots to slowly grow in size on his shirt. Why were Ryo and Gwenith taken away already? He knows the Hunger Games are to release spirits…but he thought he would have more time with them. "They weren't ready to leave," Beta whispers to himself as he legs finally give out and he falls down in a heap on the stairs, only a few steps away from making it onto the roof.
Beta lays back on the stairs, clutching his aching chest as he keeps staring up at the sky, struggling to even process the events of the day. He doesn't even remember making it to this building. He just ran and ran like someone else was in control of him until he finally picked a building to enter. But as he started to wander the halls and slowly began to recognize the smells and sights of the hospital, the walls just felt like they were closing in around him, reminding him all too much of the worst 48 hours of his life. All he could do was find the nearest stairwell and just run and run and run up them, desperate to get to the roof.
If those were the worst hours of his life, this arena surely must be his own personal hell that's haunted by a giggling girl.
The Panem anthem suddenly starts blaring through the arena and Beta shakily brings his hands up to cover his ears. "It's too loud," he groans as he rolls over onto his side, but he keeps his head turned up at the Capitol seal being displayed in the sky, unable to look away from it. Just like he had been unable to turn away from the destruction happening this afternoon.
One by one, the faces of souls released from the world are shown up in the sky, and Beta can't help but stare at each one and memorize each detail, tucking them away into his memory. He doesn't know why, but he can't stop himself.
The boy from One, the first victim of Death, one that Beta is…grateful isn't the word as he could never be grateful for something that Death did, but…he's glad he's dead as he would have been a threat to him.
Then there's Digit's face and Beta stares up at her face, knowing the pressure that is now placed on him as District Three's only shot at victory. Digit was polite to him in their shared time together and while he's not sadden at her death, he will work to honor it. After all, she did volunteer to have her soul released in the Games.
Then there is Lincoln, the boy from Four who was simply unlucky. Beta simply blinks at his face, unbothered at the death of a career who caused his own death accidentally.
The pair from District Five pass quickly as Beta's tears start to slow. After all, these were people that laughed at him. The girl especially deserved her death for allying with Death.
But the tears are back in an instant, burning his eyes as the image switches to Ryo. Beta struggles against the sobs as he stares up at his friend's smiling face, knowing this will be the last time he sees his face. Ryo was so kind to him in training and they were friends…until he was ripped away from him.
Beta can barely see the faces of the following tributes, his eyes too blurred by tears, but he does his best to watch them to know who is still left. Ryo's partner…the boys from Seven and Eight… But then Gwenith is shown and Beta simply curls up further, fighting to hold it all together. "I don't understand," Beta sobs to himself as the final face is shown, the young girl from Eleven.
Then the pictures fade away and Beta digs his fingernails into his palm as he stares up at the sky darkening after the last image and can feel the trickle of blood falling down his scarred skin. It wasn't supposed to be like this. They had a plan. Beta was going to get supplies for them, no matter what it took, and the three of them were going to get away together and find somewhere to hide and set up traps to take out any tributes that got too close. Beta was going to protect them until it was time for their souls to be released and he would keep fighting on, knowing it was necessary.
So why does it hurt so much despite him knowing it would never end with the three of them alive? Why is he filled with such debilitating grief and rage? They would have had to die eventually for him to make it back home to Tracer. So why is this different?
He didn't get to say goodbye.
Beta slowly sits up at the realization and a calmness from knowing the reason spreads over him, just barely masking the grief and rage in him. When he felt this deep grief before, he got to say goodbye to Copper, even if she wasn't supposed to die then. He was there by her hospital bed, clutching her weak hand right up until the end. But he never got to say goodbye to his friends. When he was filled with this rage before, he found a way to get revenge against those that hurt his friend. They cast curses together against those terrible people, slowly starting the healing process for Tracer.
But he has not yet gotten his revenge for these two friends.
It's so obvious to Beta now and his focus is completely trained onto one person. The new face of Death. She must pay for what she did to him today. No one hurts his friends and gets away with it. But how? What special curse should he cast on her? Oh how he wishes he had his notebook with him, but Tracer needs it more than him. No matter, he knows every page front to back, but it will be hard not having it there to triple check every step.
What would be the most painful death for her? Falling into a pit and dying? Death by dysentery? Poisoned? So many different options available to him…but which one is the worst? It's what she deserves for taking away his two friends.
And he'll make sure she gets what she deserves. But first, he needs some supplies so he can cast this curse. After that, it's just a matter of cursing the remaining tributes until he wins and can get back home to Tracer so they can finally figure out how to bring Copper back. Surely with the money from victory and access to the Capitol they'll find some spellbook that contains the answer that's escaped him so far.
Another thought slowly starts to trickle in to his brain and once in there, there's no way he can let go of it. Why hasn't he been successful yet at bringing Copper back? He's tried so many different spells and potions, given blood sacrifices and more but to no avail. But what if he wasn't giving enough? What if he needed to give more? Something that is readily available to him in this arena and no one will blink an eye at his actions?
With a jump Beta is on his feet once more and he gently takes off his glasses and uses the edge of his shirt to clean them off before he lightly hops down the steps. He pushes open the door on the first landing he comes across, his mind focused on only one thought. The ages aren't quite right, but surely a few months difference in age won't matter. It has to not matter because there's no one left in the arena that was the age Copper would have been.
He's certain it won't matter. Death will be the perfect sacrifice, the last piece of the puzzle he couldn't quite figure out back home on how to bring his sister back to him. A life for a life, even one as wicked as that life…
Beta can feel his lips turning up in a hint of a smile as comes across a door marked 'Operating Suite' and pushes it open, pausing to stare at the stainless steel surgical tools all shining in the harsh light, just waiting for someone to come take them. He carefully steps into the room and towards the table with tools lined up and examines them carefully. The table looks as if it's ready for someone to get revenge, not have surgery, covered in various saws and hammers. But Beta finds his hand reaching for a small scalpel, knowing this type of work will require precise runes drawn into skin and one small slip could mean failure.
And he can't fail. Not when he finally has the solutions he's searched the past six years for to bring back Copper. And especially not when the solution will give him the best cure for his rage.
"I'm not afraid of Death," Beta says to himself as he tests the sharpness of the scalpel, just letting it run across the tip of his finger with no pressure aside from its own weight placed on it. He watches the thin line of blood start forming right away as the cut stings, yet he doesn't flinch or look away from it. After all, pain is a necessary part of some spells and he is about to cast the biggest spell of his life. He will get his vengeance for his friends and finally bring his sister back to him. "This is revenge I'm looking forward to."
Luciana Kilroy, 18, District Eight
How does one learn to accept their death? How can one person even cope with being told they have days to live and not have even a glimmer of hope that they may survive? Kilroy hasn't managed to figure out the answer to either of those questions yet, and she's starting to think she will never get the chance.
She stares out the windows of the games headquarters at the night sky, no longer illuminated by all the faces of the dead. Yet she can still see an image up there, but it's not the faces of the eleven that have died in just one day.
She keeps seeing her own face.
How many days left until her face is in the sky? Surely very few since they've already reached the halfway point. She thought she would have more time to live, maybe make it to the top ten before the Gamemakers inevitably send something after her to bring about her death. But the top ten is only one more death away.
She turns her gaze away from the night sky, blinking rapidly to force back the tears that are always lurking and ready to fall, ever since Drusa's death. What has she done to deserve this? To lose the person she might have loved if they had more time together and then so recently after be forced to face her own death. She doesn't deserve this. Sure, she's done bad things in her life with the gang, but she's never killed anyone. She's never wanted to, especially after seeing death first hand. Surely a little bit of stealing and blackmail doesn't warrant a death sentence broadcast live as entertainment for the Capitol.
Kilroy takes a shaky breath in and shuts her eyes, trying to focus on her breathing to fight back the breakdown she's been so close to having all day, ever since she started witnessing so much death. It became all too real that she might be next once tributes started falling around her. Yet she can't let herself break. Not when everyone is watching her back home. She has to give her parents some sort of hope that she'll make it through this alive. She'll go out fighting, letting them believe she tried her best.
She slowly opens her eyes as she keeps taking deep breaths and her eyes focus in on the fire raging in the distance at the other end of the Avenue of the Tributes. Only the careers would be foolish enough to light a fire and give off the beacon of light that screams 'Here I am!' Yet why should they fear other tributes? They're the ones that have trained for this. They're the ones that are supposed to do the hunting at the start of the Games and keep the Capitol entertained until the other tributes start becoming desperate enough to start killing.
They're the ones that would hunt down a tribute who earned a higher score than them. And she ran to a building while in plain sight of them.
Kilroy tenses up as she stares into the distance as her stomach starts to sink and she just knows she's staring her death in the face. Surely the Gamemakers will send the three trained tributes after her. Guarantee her death by skilled tributes while also giving the crowd exactly what they want: a fight between the highest scoring tribute and the careers.
And she's just doing nothing aside from being a sitting duck. What if the fire is just a trick? Make the tributes think that they're tucked in for the night when really they're out hunting tributes? Are they hunting her down right now?
Kilroy scrambles to her feet and pulls out her knife as her heartrate starts to quicken. She squints to see better in the darkness inside the building, but the few lights from outside just make everything cast shadows in the room. She slowly starts shuffling forward, knife held out in front of her as she stares around the floor resembling where the District Eight team had been staying, no longer finding comfort in the familiar surroundings.
She knows she shouldn't be this paranoid, yet she can't help it as she enters the empty kitchen, moving her hand around in front of her. She doesn't stop until she has searched through the entire floor and doesn't find anyone. She lets out a shaky breath as she returns to her spot and leans against the glass wall, trying to calm down her racing heart. She hates this. She hates this so much, just sitting around and waiting for her death.
That's not how she wants to die. She doesn't want her remaining days spent in fear. And she promised her mentor that she would go out with a bang – although she's glad she didn't literally go out with a bang earlier today. She will not just wait for someone to come kill her. If she's going to die, she might as well try to take out her killer with her.
"That's enough of waiting around," she whispers to herself and pushes herself off from the glass. She grabs her bag and swings it onto her shoulder before moving almost silently through the floor towards the stairway, still not trusting that there isn't someone lurking and waiting. Once in the stairwell, she looks up and down, unsure about moving yet. She turns back into the District Eight floor and grabs a glass vase before returning to the stairs and dropping it. The shattering of the glass echoes through the stairwell and Kilroy presses her back to the wall, waiting to hear if anyone is going to investigate it.
One minute passes…two, three, yet she doesn't move yet. Not until at least twenty minutes of silence have passed before she finally starts moving down the stairs softly. She's been a damn fool. How many hours has she spent staring out the window of the eighth floor instead of going to the other floors in this building? How could she have been so stupid to not realize what might be located in this building. They've gone to great lengths to replicate the floors each tribute stayed on in the Capitol. Who's to say they haven't replicated everything in this building? Like say…the training center?
Despite not hearing any sounds after dropping the vase, she still proceeds cautiously down the staircase, hesitating at each new landing and holding her knife towards each door, still not trusting there isn't another tribute or some terrible Gamemaker trap waiting for her. Down and down she goes until she reaches the shattered remains of the vase she dropped. Yet there's no further staircase down, forcing her to leave out the door to the ground floor where she entered.
Kilroy can feel her palms sweating as she slowly opens the door, waiting for it to start squeaking and notify anyone nearby that she is there. Yet it remains silent and she hesitates before going through it, half expecting to get a knife in her chest if she steps foot. And that would be a real stupid way to die. So she throws her bag a few feet through the door, still in her sight, but hopefully enough that any tribute waiting would attack that first or try to grab it. She waits in the doorway, gripping her knife so tightly her knuckles go white, and minutes keep ticking by. Yet she stays put for who knows how long, refusing to go through the door yet. And she knows why and it's a feeling she isn't used to.
Fear.
So she stays put as the minutes tick by, all too afraid to die. "This is stupid," she mutters to herself, trying to get herself to be as brave as she used to be back home in Eight. But back home there wasn't ten other tributes trying to kill her so they could get out alive.
Finally, she takes a breath and slowly peeks her head out, growing tired of standing put with her muscles tense. The ground floor is better illuminated than her floor was and it's easy for her to look around and realize she's truly alone. She lets out a breath she didn't realize she was holding before picking up her bag and walking over to the elevator doors. She had tried them earlier, yet pressing the buttons didn't do anything. But she thinks it's the only way down to the training center. She tries once again, yet nothing happens, just as she expected.
Kilroy takes a step back, staring at the doors for a minute and thinking about her next step. She keeps glancing around, hating having her back to the main door as she plans her next move. She has to get down that elevator.
She steps forward and sticks her knife between the two doors and tries to pry them open. When they don't budge, she grabs the hilt with both hands and puts all her weight into it, until she hears a snap and she falls backward to the ground. "Fuck," she says quietly as she tries to catch her breath from it getting knocked out of her. She brings the knife up in front of her face and curses again when she only has a hilt left and no blade. "That worked really well."
Kilroy sighs as she sits up and stares at the elevator doors, finding them still firmly shut. And now she doesn't have any weapon. She absolutely has to get downstairs. She has no other choice now. If she can't pry the door open, she'll have to do things the way Faustus would. The thought of her friend brings a smile to her for a brief second before focusing on getting down to weapons. She glances around the room, trying to find something that will break through the glass doors. But everything is made out of glass and surely going to shatter first…
Kilroy pulls herself up and sizes up the doors for a moment. How much force will be needed to break it? Only one way to find out. Kilroy hesitates a second before giving a roundhouse kick to the door, mostly making her leg hurt. "Fuck," she mutters as she limps around, trying to shake off the pain. But as she steps closer to the door, she can see the smallest crack. And it's enough to get her to forget the pain and kick the door again, making the crack spread.
She can do this.
Kilroy takes a step back, taking one last look at the crack before giving one hard kick at it and her foot goes through it as a hole forms. She carefully takes her foot out, trying not to slice up her foot in the process, but despite how careful she is, she still gets some cuts. But it's worth it because now she has a way in. Instead of risking further injury, she uses the hilt to start knocking away the remaining glass, cringing with each piece of fallen glass and turning back often to ensure she's alone.
When she has a person sized hole made, she leans inside the elevator shaft and glances up and down, finding the elevator sitting at the very bottom. And with a cable leading right to it.
"Alright Kilroy, time to commit to this plan," she tells herself to psych herself up before grabbing the cable and pulling herself to it. She wraps her legs around it tightly, holding in place for a few seconds before slowly starting to slide down it.
Her muscles start to burn as she gets closer to the lower levels and the light from above slips away. But as she goes further down, new light starts to shine into the shaft from another set of doors and she quickens her pace. The stationary elevator sits just below the doors and once a few feet above it, she drops down onto it. She finds her reflection staring back at her in the mirrored doors and gets taken aback for a moment by the fear in her eyes. It terrifies her to see herself that way so she quickly kicks at the mirror, wanting to avoid staring at herself any longer.
With four well placed kicks, the door shatters and Kilroy brings up a hand to cover her eyes from the light in the room as she steps inside the room and a smile slowly starts to form on her face as she takes in the racks of weapons and equipment, just waiting for someone to use it.
She might not have many days left. But she just needs a few hours to set up something to make sure whoever brings her down will regret it.
Garth Rycroft, 18, District Nine
"Tanelai, I don't think a scarf is going to help a broken nose." His ally simply sighs at him as she sits back, bunching up the scarf in her hand as she stares at him. His face throbs with each beat of his heart and he can't breathe well out of his nose anymore, yet he's trying his best to stop thinking about the injury. If he can just pretend that he didn't break his nose, maybe, just maybe he can pretend for a little while that he's not in the Hunger Games… "I don't think anything is going to help it aside from surgery."
"Well I guess you'll just have to stay alive to get that surgery," Tanelai chuckles for a moment before cutting herself off, seemingly realizing what her words would mean for her. Garth is dreading the day he has to see his ally die…yet doesn't he have to if he's going to get back home to his family? They both can't win. Nothing will ever change that. "Sorry…" Tanelai says softly as she throws the bundled up fabric to the side before laying down in the pile of clothes they've gathered from the shop they're in, turning so her back is to Garth. "I just want to help."
Garth stares at his ally's back for a few awkward seconds before laying back on his own pile, staring up at the dark sky filled with stars that are unnaturally bright. These aren't the stars he's stared at back at home on nights when he would sit outside with Harlow, a blanket wrapped around their shoulders to keep them warm. These aren't the stars his younger siblings would point at and ask him to identify on warm summer nights when they would gather around a small bonfire in their backyard. These are cold, foreign and artificial stars, stars that only they are seeing in the arena.
The arena he nearly died in during the first five minutes. Would he have survived that fight if Muir hadn't thrown the knife into Carrie-Ann's back? Or what if she had thrown the knife at him instead? Or what if Tanelai had been on the opposite side and was killed in the explosions, leaving him on his own? So many what ifs and different scenarios that could have resulted in his death, all if people had been placed in slightly different spots or people had reached for different weapons. All of it is enough to make a panic build in him and fill him with fear of dying.
A sob escapes from him before there's any hope of him stopping it and he quickly covers his mouth, knowing how dangerous it is to make too loud of noises in the arena. But he can't stop the tears forming in his eyes as he takes a shaky breath in that burns his nose, all trying to keep quiet so no one walking nearby would hear him.
"Garth?" Tanelai's voice hesitantly speaks up in the quiet. He can hear rustling beside him and quickly wipes at the tears in his eyes, making him grimace in pain as he brushes his broken nose. From the corner of his eye, he can see her lay on her side and prop herself up with her elbow so she can look at him better, but he continues to stare up at the fake stars. He can't look at her. One look and she'll know how pitiful he is and leave him behind instead of letting him slow her down. After all, she's the one that got a weapon during the bloodbath and what did he get? A broken nose. "Are you alright?"
"No," Garth whispers as he shakes his head at her question. How could anyone be alright in the arena when death can be around any corner?
"Neither am I," Tanelai sighs as she rolls back over and Garth spares a quick glance over to see her staring up at the stars, but quickly turns back when she turns her head towards him. "This place is terrifying… I'm terrified to sleep out of fear that someone will find me and slit my throat before I even have a chance. I'm terrified that we'll try to move to a better hiding spot just to walk into a trap. And I-" she cuts off to take a shaky breath and Garth turns back towards her, finding his tears mirrored in her expression. "And I'm terrified I won't make it home alive."
"Me too," Garth whispers in response to her, letting the tears slip down the sides of his face now instead of trying to hide them from her. "I've been on the verge of a panic attack this whole time and can't find anything to think about that isn't the arena…"
Tanelai wipes away her own tears and grabs the scarf she had offered to him. Garth is ready to turn down her help once more but she instead uses it to blow her nose, bringing a small hint of a smile to his face that he can't help at just the ridiculousness of this all. But the smile is soon gone, quickly chased away by the anxiety of the arena. "What about home?" She whispers as she throws the used scarf towards the wall.
"Home?" Garth asks nervously, having avoided this as long as he's been in the Capitol. He hasn't wanted to share the most private parts of his life with the whole nation for them to judge him for the mistakes he's made.
"Yeah, home," Tanelai repeats, rolling onto her side to look at him better. "The place you live. The people there."
"I know what home means," Garth shakes his head at her attempt to joke, but it's working just a bit. He turns onto his side to look at her too and finds her smiling, trying to get him to lighten up. Yet home isn't a cheerful place for him. It's just filled with mistakes that he might never get to fix. "Tell me about Seven and your family."
"My family?" Tanelai lets out a huff that's a mix of a scoff and a sigh at this and Garth raises an eyebrow, a little curious what that could mean. "I'm an only child and so my parents have put a lot of pressure on me. Stuff like 'wanting me to do better than them' or some bullshit like that," Tanelai shrugs as best as she can while laying on her side and despite the annoyed tone in her voice, Garth can see on her face that she misses her parents. "What about you? Didn't you mention siblings in your interview?"
"Yeah, I'm the oldest of four," Garth smiles slightly at Tanelai remembering that detail from his interview and almost starts laughing as she widens her eyes at how many siblings he has.
"Four?" She asks in disbelief and Garth nods his head. "God, I couldn't imagine that many siblings."
"It's not too bad," Garth tries to convince her but can see that she won't be convinced otherwise. "I mean, it's not fun when they're going through their brooding teenage phase but I still love them."
"Yeah…" Tanelai says softly, getting a sad smile on her face as she continues, "Daram has a younger sibling and I love her. Absolutely spoil her rotten."
"Is Daram…" Garth starts slowly, hesitant to bring up boyfriends, terrified that she'll ask him if he has anyone.
"Yeah, he's my boyfriend," Tanelai answers with a small smile, but her tears start filling with tears once more, making Garth feel bad for bringing him up. "I love that doof more than anything." She shuts her eyes and lets out a shaky breath. When she opens her eyes once more, she blinks a couple times to clear her tears. "He's definitely who I'm fighting for…do you have anyone like that?"
Garth stares down at the clothes they piled on the floor and starts picking at the seam of a shirt, anything to keep from facing Tanelai and answering her question. He dodged it at the interview but if he says it now, everyone will know. Surely there's cameras trained on them right now… But what harm is there? Anyone that matters to him already knows the truth about what happened… "I did, but I messed things up… He left me and I deserve it. It was my fault."
"No one deserves that," Tanelai answers and he just shakes his head at her. She has no idea just how much it's his fault. "Dude we all make mistakes. If it was a genuine mistake, then it's not your fault."
Garth continues shaking his head at her. "But it wasn't…I didn't tell him the truth and now he won't even let me try to explain why I did what I did… It was always for my family…" Garth rolls onto his back so he can reach into his pocket and carefully pull out the watch he brought as his token. He runs his thumb over the broken face, the time a permanent reminder of the time he ruined everything. He can see Tanelai looking over curiously at him and he holds the watch out to her, fresh tears starting to form in his eyes as he thinks back on his mistakes. "I bought this for him before I ruined it. He threw it at me and it broke then, stopped forever on that exact time, reminding me when I lost him…"
Tanelai stares at the watch before gently tossing it onto his stomach. "Dude that's the most depressing thing I've heard and we're in the Hunger Games right now."
Garth feels his cheeks heating up in embarrassment and he puts the watch away before rolling onto his side to face away from his ally, wishing he hadn't opened up to her about Harlow. But she doesn't let him stay that way and she grabs onto his side, forcing him to roll back over. "What?"
"You can't keep wallowing in self-pity over the past," Tanelai tries to tell him, but he just shakes his head at her.
"Why not? I'm good at it."
"Yeah, well, you're not going to win the Games that way," Tanelai scoffs at him and sits up so she can stare down at him better. "And if I don't win, you bet I want my ally to win. Garth…look at me." She stays silent as a minute goes by of Garth just staring out the roof above them until he finally sighs and slowly sits up, not really wanting to face her or his past. "Look, if he doesn't want to forgive you for making a mistake and apologizing for it, then he doesn't deserve you. You're a good guy, Garth…I can tell you don't believe that at times but I can see that from just a few days of knowing you. So don't let a mistake stop you from trying to fix it or find someone who does deserve your love."
By the time she finishes and tries to give him an encouraging smile, Garth can barely see her from the tears blurring his eyes. He's held onto his guilt for so very long with no one to tell for fear of judgement. He never wanted to hurt Harlow – that was why he hadn't told him the truth about his job. Harlow hadn't even let him try to explain why he did it for his family. And yet, he can't be mad at him. But maybe…maybe she's right…but there's the big assumption there that he'll actually make it out alive from this hell and his hopes aren't too high. He knows his odds.
But that doesn't mean he can't have some hope. "I'll always still love him," Garth says quietly, wanting Harlow to know that, despite everything that happened he still loves him.
Tanelai is silent for a moment before giving him a sad smile. "First loves tend to do that. But doesn't mean there won't be more or that you won't get back together with him. But first you need to get out of here. Then you'll find the best man to love you despite your mistakes."
"Yeah…just have to get out of here first," Garth repeats quietly as fear starts to build in his chest once more as he's reminded of where they are. It was so easy to forget for a moment that there aren't other tributes out there hunting for them… Tributes like Stark who swore to him that he would find him… Other trained careers who didn't hesitate to kill in the bloodbath… How can they even hope to beat them?
"Get some sleep," Tanelai tells him as she scooches back to lean up against the wall. She tosses a dress over at him to use as a blanket when he doesn't move to lay down. "I'm serious, Garth. Get some sleep because you look like shit right now. And just focus on right now. The past is done, so stop worrying about things you can't change."
Garth stares at her for a few seconds and she raises her eyebrows and nods her head at their makeshift bed, making him sigh and give in to her taking first watch. He doesn't want to sleep, too afraid of what he might dream about. Maybe that was why Tanelai wants to take first watch, to avoid the nightmares. "Hey Tanelai…" He says quietly as he pulls the dress around him to keep warm.
"Yeah Garth?"
"Thank you for distracting me for a bit…" Garth tells her before rolling over so she won't see him stay awake for so long or to see the tears of fear and regret he's barely keeping in.
A few minutes pass in silence, making Garth start to think that Tanelai won't respond to him, until he barely hears her whisper, "I needed it too."
Night One, let's go! I'm back from the dead aka the semester lol. I'll be done within a week and things are slowing down for me so I'm hopeful that I'll kick it back into gear and really get moving with this!
Before I start rambling, eulogies:
Maddelena 'Maddie' Sallow, Ranked 12th, Killed by Stark [2]:
Maddie is a tribute I feel like could have really shown in a featured tribute spot. There was a lot more to her that could have gotten explored, but obviously I didn't have the POVs for her and her strategy was to remain alone. She was unlucky in the end to be in the same building as Stark and Jinx. She did receive your sponsor gift, Pi, and got to have some nice comfort food before she was discovered. RIP Maddie.
Alright so this chapter was definitely a lot of angst and setting up for things. How do you think these plans will end?
By time you've reached this point, the blog will have been updated with locations at the end of night one! Also a reminder that sponsoring is going on and you have until May 21st to sponsor any gifts that will be received in Day Two!
RQ #22: What comfort food would you want to receive in the arena?
Alrighty I'll see you all hopefully soon with Day Two!
