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XXXVIII. Victory

"Whoa, Odair!" Blight exclaims. "Your chick's Jesus reincarnated."

"Not possible," Beetee mutters under his breath, shaking his head.

"No!" Enobaria screeches at me. "You're a cheater, Odair!"

I sit there, staring at my screen, wondering just how my screen dissolved into an empty void and came back to life. Surely, that isn't possible, is it?

"She'll pull through," Cashmere whispers in my ear. "I mean, look at Dee."

The female tribute from Two is still clawing at her torn eye, screaming in what seems to be more rage than agony. Her vocals drown out the feeble moan from Marlene, who clutches her arm with a grimace. She stares at the camera, unblinkingly and void of emotion as she manages to pull herself up into a sitting position.

"You're supposed to be dead!" Dee exclaims, pointing a finger in Marlene's direction. "Your cannon went off. I'm the Victor. You fucking died!"

Marlene laughs, bitterly and takes the chance to grab her spear while Dee makes an attempt to stop the blood flow from her inflicted wound. "Looks like I'm hard to kill, eh?"

"You should be dead," she snarls.

"Maybe I can just withstand more pain than others."

I don't doubt it for a second. Perhaps, not physical pain but even before the Games, she's been one of the mentally and emotionally strongest people I've known. The death of her younger brother couldn't have been great, with the horrid mutilation Althea Yule had done. Then, add her mother's death and her father's drinking habits, which often resulted in beatings. Marlene Summers is no ordinary girl.

Slowly but surely, Marlene manages to haul herself back up onto her feet with one hand against the tree trunk for balance. Her body weight mostly rests on her right leg and with her right arm, she rears back and launches the spear in hand at Dee. Her aim's off - kind of.

She'd evidently been aiming for Dee's abdomen but with the heavy panting and bruised arms, Marlene's spear embeds itself in Dee's shin. The girl, however, barely seems to falter and manages to lunge the few steps to Marlene, whose eyes widen instantly. She brings out her dagger - the one she'd used with the tribute from Eleven - and makes an attempt to slash at Dee out of self defence, after realising that she can't back away.

"Come on, Marlene," I mutter, gripping onto the table tightly.

"Should I make you beg and suffer by my hand?" Dee taunts, raising her own sword up and sinking the blade into Marlene's left thigh, only inches above from the wound she'd received from the mountain lion. Marlene grits her teeth and winces softly, but doesn't speak for a while as she stares up at Dee, indifferently. She refuses to acknowledge the pain, nor does the allow Dee to feel the satisfaction of her actions.

"You can chop me up into pieces and I won't even scream."

Clearly, her response doesn't please Dee, as the girl releases yet another scream of aggravation and lifts Marlene up by the front of her shirt once again. Everything seems to proceed in a huge blur as Marlene uses the last ounce of energy to stab her dagger into Dee's chest roughly, twisting her wrist around before pulling it out once again, only to shove it back into her body, underneath her ribcage. Precisely at that moment, the female tribute from Two splutters blood out but not before swinging her arm back and releasing Marlene's shirt, sending her flying several metres across the arena.

She lands on the ice with a loud thwack sound, like a rag doll and stays there, immobile. Meanwhile, Dee's sunk down to her knees, blood staining her lips as she attempts to fruitlessly stop the blood flow from her eye, chest and stomach. Marlene, on the other hand, doesn't move. Her chest heaves up and down unevenly with each breath she takes, but she makes no attempt to fight back. She simply lays on the ice, blinking every so often as she stares up at the sky, muttering incoherent words to herself. Her skin, once so tan and sun-kissed, is now pale, almost rivalling to the ice she lies on.

Neither of them have the strength to kill the other anymore. Marlene probably has several broken or fractured bones in her body from the impact of the ice, and her left leg serves as no positive factor to her potential victory. Dee's frantic actions only cause more blood to leak out and I'm assuming Marlene knows this already, considering how calm and unmoving she is. These last few moments of the Games have become the ultimate moments of survival. Rather than battling each other to the death by their own hands, they're battling each other to victory with what little resistance they have to pain.

Placing my headphones on, I turn up the volume and only just manage to hear what she's saying. "Ethan," she breathes out with a heavy sigh, her voice barely above a whisper. "Maxwell, Mum, Finnick."

"Ethan, Maxwell, Mum, Finnick, Ethan…"

Who Ethan is, I have no idea but I hope that whoever the guy is, he's enough of a connection to home for Marlene to stay strong for at least the next few minutes.

Enobaria frantically sends Dee a medical kit but her tribute end up stumbling over it instead, and faceplants onto the ice. At that exact moment, Marlene's eyes flutter shut and the cannon sounds.

Sighing in defeat, I place my headphones back down and lean back in my seat. "I guess I'm done," I say, rubbing my temples gently.

Cashmere sends me a funny look and stares at me like I've gone crazy. "What's wrong with you, Finnick? She won."

"Say what? But that cannon- wait- huh?"

Claudius Templesmith's voice finally booms through the speakers of the Mentor's Room. "Ladies and gentleman, may I present you the victor of the 68th Hunger Games: Marlene Summers of District Four."

My jaw feels slack as my mind begins to process the fact that my screen is still alive. "Holy shit," I say. "Oh my God, we did it."

"I told you she'd pull through," Cashmere replies with a smug smile, before slapping the back of my head. "Now if you want to see her, you should hurry to the hospital next door. That's where the tributes go once they're wheeled off the hovercraft."

"Gotcha."

When I arrive at the hospital, it takes an agonising fifteen minutes until several medics wheel Marlene in on a gurney. I scramble up to follow after them as they enter a large room but Doctor Reys - as his name tag says - steps in front of me. "Mr Odair, you can't go in there."

"Why not?" I reply, resisting the urge to push past him. "I'm her mentor and friend."

"From what we've taken note of in the hovercraft, Miss Summers is in an unstable condition and needs to be taken into intensive care. If you want to stay, you'll at least have to sit out here. That's the best I can offer," he says, gesturing to the leather seats across the hall. No matter how good-quality and tempting they look, I cross my arms and scowl at the puny doctor. "What's wrong with her?"

"Well, first thing's first: the biggest concern as of right now is her back. When Dee Elogoria threw her against the ice, this resulted in a compressed fracture of her lower vertebrae and her spinal cord's been broken or collapsed in seven places. Addit-"

"You can get that fixed though, right?" I interrupt. "I mean, I have no idea what you just said but you can fix it, right?"

"Of course, Mr Odair," he replies, raising his hand up to his mouth, and stares at me as if I'd just offended him. "Here in the Capital, we can get anything fixed. We're not stupid, Mr Odair. It's a complicated process, of course. We'll have to put her in an induced coma to complete the task and when we are done, she can't lift anything remotely heavy, nor can she apply too much pressure on anything. She'll have to spend at least four or so months recovering, assuming she makes quick process."

"Any other side effects?"

"No, Mr Odair. We can get everything fixed."

"What else is there?"

"Miss Summers also has a concussion from hitting her head and we're already in the process of fixing that." He gestures towards the room where the doctors are fretting over Marlene's body. "It'll be a bit harder than usual because she passed out but it's doable. She's suffering from blood loss and her leg's mangled in all sorts of places, with ligament tears and damage. We'll have to elevate her leg up and fix it up briefly before proceeding to her back. When she's finally conscious, we'll work on the leg."

"Are you sure you can fix it?" I ask, dubiously. In District Four, such recovery is absolutely impossible. It seems… fake - too good to be true.

"We even have the ability to bring tributes back from the dead. If we can't do this, we're nut jobs." Almost instantly, Doctor Reys gasps and lifts his hand up to his mouth, shaking his head. "Don't tell anyone I told you that. No one's supposed to know."

For a second, I almost find myself saying 'yes' but I end up shrugging it off when I realise that Snow has audio recorders and faithful spies located everywhere. There's no point in protecting this stranger, doctor or not. There are other surgeons and nurses available.

"Please, Mr Odair!" he continues. "President Snow would have my head if anyone else knew."

"I won't," I say. "Unless you do something really out of line."

I spend the next eleven days, waiting in front of Marlene's room, occasionally joined by Joseph, Krystal and Cashmere. I suppose they're good company but in a place as dull and dismal as a hospital, everything seems to buzz nervously. Each day, I wake up hoping that Marlene's woken up but not once has that occurred.

I'm not the only one who's impatient though. The entire Capital is. They want to see their Victor this year. They want to celebrate and to party, and to worship Marlene Summers of District Four, Victor of the 68th Annual Hunger Games. All they care about is seeing her in good condition, party and drink. That's literally it, and it's sick.

When I wake up on the twelfth day, I find a female Avox staring at me with an intense gaze. When she realises I'm awake, she passes a note to me.

Snow's office, it reads.

Holding back a sigh, I offer the woman a courteous nod before heading back to Level Four of the Training Building. I shower, brush my teeth, change into a new set of clothes and eat before hailing one of my chauffeurs.

What could Snow possibly want from me at a time like this?

After paying my fees to the driver, I navigate my way through the familiar labyrinth of Snow's mansion and when I finally stop in from of his office door, I pause for a moment. Looking into the mirror across the hallway, I make sure my hair looks presentable enough and roll the sleeves of my dress shirt up to my elbows. Taking a deep breath, I twist the doorknob and enter his room.

"Ah, Mr Odair," Snow greets with a devious grin. "I was beginning to wonder why you weren't showing up. Take a seat, please."

Obliging his request, I recline back in my seat and ask, "Is there a particular reason why you called me here, sir?"

This time, he cuts to the chase. "Yes, yes. I'm assuming you're aware of the… incident with your tribute, Miss Summers, when the cannon sounded to signal her death."

"It was most likely a malfunction," I reply, quickly.

President Snow takes a long sip of his tea and leans forward towards me. "That's the thing, Mr Odair. These trackers are designed to not malfunction. Don't you think it's a little absurd for Miss Summers to stay alive?"

"What are you saying?"

He chuckles and stares at me with those serpent eyes of his. "I'm sure you already know what I'm saying.

I do. I really do, but for once, I'd like for him to say it out loud.

"No, I don't."

Snow sighs, and I'm almost certain that it's out of irritation. He clicks a button on his TV remote and his screen splutters to life as the replay of Dee tossing Marlene the first time appears on screen. "Miss Summers managed to find a loophole. As you can see, she actually lands on her back. When she's finally landed, she moved onto her left side and braced herself against the trunk of the tree. The left arm is where trackers are injected into the tributes. Miss Summers managed to apply enough force to jam the tracker, which signalled the cannon. Now, I can't let this go unpunished, Mr Odair, now can I?"

Figures.

Pushing down the urge to lunge forward and gouge his eyes out with my bare hands, I nod affirmatively. "Of course."

He leans back with a sinister smile tugging at his blood red lips. "Alright, then. You're dismissed."

For the entire trip back, my chauffeur attempts to strike up a conversation. I nod along every so often and hum to show him I'm listening but really, I can't stop thinking about Marlene. If Snow kills of someone she's close to, she'll be absolutely crushed. With the lack of family she has and the Games, it surely can't be good, even for someone as strong and resilient as her. It's appalling to think that Snow would come up with the theory that Marlene would jam the tracker. Was she even aware of that?

Several doctors bustle around Marlene's hospital room, ushering each other inside. Shoving past a few nurses in my way, I grab a hold of Doctor Rey before he enters the room. "Hey, what's going on?" I ask, glancing through the window. "She's not awake yet."

"President Snow requested for a few… enhancements," he explains. "He thinks it'll be convenient and rather satisfying for the men."

Un-fucking-believable, I think to myself, crossing my arms. "Enhancements?" I repeat. "Care to elaborate?"

"Breast implants - President Snow believes that she'd make good money and use to the Capital and the one problem is that she needs to be more developed in that particular area than she is now, an-"

"You can't do that!" I shout, shoving him against the wall. "You at least, need her consent and even then, she'd never allow it."

Doctor Reys squirms uncomfortably and grimaces. "It's not her decision, Mr Odair. It's Snow's order."

"Yeah? You can tell him to suck my d-"

"Mr Odair!" His cheeks turn a bright shade of red. "You can't sa-"

"Look, if you don't make any 'enhancements', I won't tell President Snow about what you told me two weeks ago," I compromise, knowing that he wouldn't be able to refuse. His hands are tied.

He purses his lips and his decision only takes two seconds. Releasing a sigh, he relents, "Fine."

A/N: Note that I'm writing this chapter, assuming that the Capital can in fact do anything they choose to do. If anyone were to have injuries as bad as Marlene, recovery is possible - it's just extremely tedious, and it takes months and months to recover. Even then, there'd still be a few issues.