confessional hymns for the devil, himself
Disclaimer: I own nothing that has copyright attached.
Note: This chapter diverges from the canon timeline a little because I think the district was bombed shortly after dinner. I don't think it causes too much issue with how I've done it.
Chapter Eleven
When Clove pries her eyes apart that same evening, she expects nothing less than awkward silence between the two of them. Instead, Cato already has his softened gaze directed at her. He leans forward and places a dry kiss to her forehead at her hairline. She wants to shrink back, lash out, maybe even bite him for good measure, but… she does nothing but blink stupidly at him. Since when did they do this? Since when did Cato do soft?
As if he is reading her mind, he smirks in the short distance between their faces. "You're surprisingly subdued." She bristles, shoving his face away from her. He rolls over on to his back, chuckling. "There she is."
She bolts up, hair mussed and frizz around her face like a halo. It is way too goddamn hot in this tent. Panting, she scrambles over Cato's body and tears at the zipper. She feels his palm on her rear and fights the urge to kick him. She fights with the zipper long enough to curse at it before it finally tugs free, and cold air sweeps into the tent. She gulps several lungfuls down and surveys their campsite.
And the many sets of eyes that are now staring back at her.
Glimmer drops the bowl of food she had been holding with a noisy clank, spilling oatmeal all over the ground.
Great, she thinks, now everyone is very aware she slept in Cato's tent. She glares at each face until they cow, turning back to what they were doing before with great interest. She dared anyone to say anything to her about this.
Still, it's hard to gain composure when she knows what this looks like and what she must look like crawling hands and knees out of his tent. She swallows down the anger rising in her gut; the attention is too much for her.
She sets to rolling up her own unused tent without another glance in their direction and securing it to her pack. She doesn't hear so much as feel when Rue materializes behind her, silent as a ghost.
"We're going to reach District 13 by midnight."
She fumbles the clasp on her pack, nearly dropping the entire thing in the process. She will never admit that she was just startled by someone as small as Rue.
"O-oh yeah?" she feigns. "Has anyone volunteered to be the runner and go speak with them?"
She hears Rue shuffle her toes against the ground. "I thought I might be the best suited for that," her quiet voice replies. Clove whips around, trying and failing to keep the shock off her face. "Don't be stupid. You can't be the one to go." Rue frowns, and her eyes flash angrily. "I thought we were finally on the same page, Clove. We all have strengths—not just you." Clove shakes her head fiercely. "You misunderstand me. You can't go because aren't you...well…important? If something happened to you...". She trails off, not enjoying where her train of thought is leading. She began caring for the safety of the younger girl at some point in the last week. Thresh, too. They can't put themselves in harm's way. Not when Clove is just beginning to tolerate them.
Rue's face relaxes. "I think Marvel also volunteered. Are you okay with that idea?" Hell no. Marvel will find some way to fuck it up, but she cares less for his well-being than Rue. She will just have to trust him not to screw it all up.
They set off well before the day comes to an end. Cato whistles to himself and strikes up a conversation with anyone around him that will listen. She finds herself smiling at his good mood, knowing the orgasm she gave him is partially the reason behind it. He doesn't even pick arguments with Thresh.
The sun finally dips beyond the horizon, and the moon rises, partially obscured by thick clouds. The lack of natural light filtering through the trees puts Clove on edge. She would like to see what's ahead of them, but her surroundings are cast in long shadows. The other Tributes whisper among themselves, nervous. Word had gotten around that they were close to approaching District 13.
The moon is at its highest point in the night sky when they stumble upon a deep natural well of clear, blue water. The pool is oblongly shaped until it reaches a narrower point to the south. It channels into a rushing stream that leads in the district's direction. The far west side is an overhang of jutting rock where the river cascades off the top into loud, roaring falls. Beyond the foamy water, Clove can just make out a shallow impression in the rock behind the falls large enough for a group of people to squat.
Thresh, who had been leading the group, abruptly stops by the well. His eyes sweep wildly around the area, scanning for any danger headed their way. "Here is good," he calls out to the rest of the Tributes once he's found none. They groan in relief once they realize they can finally rest their tired feet. Several drop their backs and collapse on top of them.
They break off from the rest of the others and pick through the undergrowth further downstream with Thresh and Rue not far behind. From this distance, they can just make out the clearing ahead of them and fencing that surrounds what is left of District 13. Clove is reminded how angry she is about this place being spoon-fed to her as a lie. "Alright, so I just gotta get in there," Marvel states, bouncing from one foot to another. "Shouldn't be too difficult."
Clove stares at the twelve-foot barbed wire fence and impenetrable stone. Any other person would have trouble, but a Career would manage easily. She hopes Marvel is such a Career. They run him through their plan one last time before he hikes his pack up his shoulders and takes the woods at a sprint.
He makes it half a yard before he drops and slams down into the dirt with a loud yelp. Without thinking, Rue darts forward to the other boy's prone form. "Rue, wait!" Thresh yells, reaching out a hand but snatching only air. Her dark curls bob in the darkness ahead of them as they carefully follow.
Marvel sits in the dirt, hands clasped around a rapidly swelling ankle. Blood coats the front of his pants leg and leaks from between his fingers. "There was a trap there." He points to a barely hidden steel tripwire that juts out of the earth. One edge of the wire is serrated with razor-sharp grooves.
Rue gingerly removes his hands from his leg and assesses the damage. "I think it's broken. And you're going to need stitches." She looks up to him and around at the rest of the group. "He can't go like this. Someone else is going to have to."
"Rue, no. I won't allow it," Thresh immediately interrupts. His deep voice leaves no room for argument, but Rue doesn't seem to notice or care.
"It was already decided that I would," she counters, pulling gauze strips from her pack. She pushes up Marvel's pant leg and wraps the wound tightly. The incision oozes blood generously, but she stems some of the flow enough that he can make it back. "Take him back to the camp and help him wash this."
Cato gets an arm underneath his shoulder and hoists him to his feet. "Ah, ah," Marvel moans, leaning heavily onto his good ankle. "Don't drop me." "I'm not going to drop you, you princess."
Rue is standing now, hands on her hips, and staring down Thresh's towering figure in the dark. Clove stares, fascinated, at the flash of emotion in their eyes in the silver moonlight. "I'll go," Thresh finally says after their charged moment. Rue looks like she wants to argue with him, but he has her wrapped in his strong embrace before she can. He whispers something in the younger girl's ear that has Clove turning her head away to give them some privacy.
Suddenly, he releases her and slips off into the dark without a sound. Tears glisten in Rue's eyes, but she hurriedly wipes them away. "Okay, let's get you patched up." She slips her shoulder under Marvel's other arm to help support his weight.
The group is stretched out around the natural pool, talking and laughing softly amongst themselves. They startle quiet when they see Marvel's injury. Glimmer rushes to his side with a sob, fretting over him despite Rue's reassurances that he will be just fine. Clove can't help roll her eyes, but she also wonders if she would act the same way if he was in Marvel's place right now when she glances over at Cato. Rue takes to the task of stitching Marvel's wound. He grimaces, but her light touch and infectious humor make him laugh and smile the entire time.
It's not even a half-hour later that their tenuous hold on peace shatters in their hands. Distantly, the shriek of a siren comes from the direction of District 13. A blinding jet of fire streaks across the night sky. At first, Clove does not recognize what it could be, but as it makes a deafening impact, and the resulting fireball shakes the very ground beneath her, she comes to the quick and shocking realization.
Snow is bombing District 13.