Chapter 43:

The Day The Quell Ended

Odyssey Gunderson, Victor of the Sixth Quarter Quell

As Odyssey comes to, he groans at the fog in his brain and keeps his eyes shut for a while, letting the anesthesia make its way out of his system. He's not quite ready to face reality yet – even if that reality is just a hospital room for one. Facing reality means having to face the things that he did…and he really isn't ready for that yet, or to face the people he cares about. He's almost glad to have a few days of being in the hospital, sleeping without nightmares from the drugs they're giving him to heal him faster, and figure out how he's going to face the people back in Two. He can't even imagine that they won't view him differently after all of this. If the situation was reversed…no, he doesn't want to think about that and let his mind spiral.

Slowly he opens his eyes and just stares up at the ceiling, listening to the sounds of the room, his heart rate monitor steadily beeping, and the smell – he can smell again. Odyssey takes in a deep breath, taking in all the gross smells that just scream hospital, and when he lets out that breath, tears begin to form in his eyes. He never thought he would be so happy to smell a hospital, but the antiseptic smell is just one more reminder that he is out of that arena. It's done…he's never going to have to step foot in that place again, never going to feel blood on his hands, never going to see the light fade out of someone's eyes as he takes their life… Five sets of eyes that will haunt him at night.

Yet despite being out of that hellhole, Odyssey still feels like a part of him was left behind there. An innocence, in a way, even though that seems silly to him since he volunteered for this and knew exactly what he would have to do to get out of there alive. He knew that he would have to take lives and was trained to do that efficiently. And yet…he never expected what happened to him. Never expected to be forced into a fight where he either had to kill his friend or die himself. Never expected to be so consumed by a burning rage and then deal with the aftermath of guilt and regret for what he did. He paid the price for it and he deserves to have the daily reminder of what he did in that arena. He needs to be reminded of the price for taking five lives, reminded of what can happen if he lets rage consume him.

Odyssey slowly lifts his right arm up in front of his face, finding most of it wrapped up in bandages. But just the tips of the prosthetic fingers stick out from the bandages and he reaches up with his good hand – although that's really just good in regards to his right hand given the bandages there and wound patched up – feeling the tug of wires connected to his arm. He hesitantly touches the tips of the fingers, but he recoils right away at the feel of the prosthetic, his mind struggling to process the feeling that's so close to human skin, yet foreign. Repulsed by the feeling, he puts his arms back down, letting out a loud sigh. It's going to take him so long to adjust to this… Learning how to use the prosthetic, adjusting to life and relearning how to do things that were second nature to him before. His recovery is just getting started…both physically and mentally.

What will be harder to recover? His hand or his heart?

Someone clears their throat and Odyssey lets out a high pitched scream of surprise as he frantically sits up, holding his left fist in front of him in defense. But a hand is quickly on his shoulder and gently pushing him back down as his heart rate rises, and he has to remind himself that he is no longer in danger. But it's hard not to have his body on edge after a week in the Hunger Games. "Hey, relax kid."

Odyssey blinks at the man helping him raise the bed to a seated position, wondering if maybe he had a concussion and is hallucinating. He doesn't remember getting hit in the head, but why else would Zephyr be in his hospital room? "Ze-"

Odyssey breaks off to start coughing, his throat raw from being under for surgery. His eyes widen as he looks at the end of his bed where Head Gamemaker Lukianas is standing, the side of his face filled with a very dark bruise from where Odyssey punched him in the face. Odyssey flinches a little at the bruise, a bit of fear forming in his stomach at the thought of getting in trouble for it. He doesn't regret it and still thinks Seraphim deserves it, but also now that the adrenaline of the fight has worn off, he knows it was a stupid thing to do and he wouldn't have done that now.

"With all due respect," Odyssey starts, his voice hoarse and Zephyr hands him some water that he slowly sips before continuing, "I am not going to apologize for punching you. And why are you here? Both of you?"

Seraphim gently reaches up and touches the dark bruise on the side of his face, "I didn't expect you to. I probably should have expected that reaction from you and waited a bit to speak to you. But trust me, that's not the worst thing a victor has done to me. You didn't send me through a table," Seraphim chuckles quietly to himself, making Odyssey raise an eyebrow at that statement. Zephyr clears his throat, getting Seraphim to grow serious once more. "Right, anyways, we need to talk to you."

"What if I don't want to talk to you?" Odyssey asks honestly, growing tired just from being awake after the surgery and the week in the arena. He stares at Seraphim, tears forming in his eyes as he thinks of everything that happened to him, all stemming from the moment this man standing in front of him made him fight against Bell. "You put me through hell in that arena."

"Yes, he did, and I've already told him several times how mean that decision was and Darach, Glacia, and Kat also gave him an earful when we let them stop by to see you safe after the surgery," Zephyr says in a huff as he crosses his arms at Odyssey.

"Sounds terrifying facing one of them, let alone all three at once," Odyssey manages to joke with Zephyr and when the victor – his fellow victor – cracks a smile at this, Odyssey starts to chuckle, but soon turns into a cough from his throat being hoarse.

"It was petrifying," Seraphim says, sounding genuinely terrified. Odyssey looks back over at him, surprised to see the Head Gamemaker terrified by victors. "Zephyr didn't even help me out at all."

"You kind of deserved it," Odyssey mutters under his breath and Zephyr hears him, making him start laughing and nodding his head in agreement.

"Okay can we stop making fun of me please?" Seraphim asks, sounding exasperated by them. "We do have a national security issue here."

"Right," Zephyr says as he clears his throat, growing serious once more but another laugh still slips out. "Anyways. Look, kid, if you don't just listen to us for five minutes, we won't send Misha in after we're done."

"Is this some kind of sick joke to keep punishing me even out of the arena?" Odyssey tenses up at this, glancing back and forth between the two of them, not wanting to get his hopes up in case they're lying to him. He trusts Zephyr, but Seraphim? He doesn't have the greatest opinion of the Head Gamemaker right now. "Misha is really here?"

"Just outside the door," Seraphim tells him and Odyssey glances over at the door before quickly turning away, a nervous feeling building up in him at the thought of seeing Misha. He wants to see him, he really does…but what does Misha think of what he did in that arena? Even Odyssey is ashamed of himself…surely the others feel that way too. "The victors are all locked down in either this building or the Victor Villages, but we made an exception and flew Misha out, figuring it would get you to cooperate with us."

"Cooperate with what?" Odyssey asks hesitantly as he turns back to Seraphim, still not trusting him. "And I doubt he even wants to see me…"

Zephyr gives him a sad smile at this and pats his shoulder gently a few times. "Trust me, he definitely wants to see you."

"Well…" Odyssey hesitates, still not quite trusting Seraphim. But if Misha wants to see him…Odyssey wants to see him too, but he's just afraid of his reaction. "Okay, I'll listen."

"Very well," Seraphim says with a nod of his head. He takes a deep breath before launching into it, "We're in the middle of a rebel threat right now. The President will be making an announcement to the country later today and the mentors know, but…well, the rebels kidnapped five tributes from the arena."

Odyssey blinks at him in surprise, his brain struggling to wrap around this. "Wait, what? Who?"

"Yes, kidnapped tributes," Seraphim repeats, sharing an anxious look with Zephyr. "First was Adam, then Anastacia, Amelia and Fox at the Trial by Combat, and finally Elias."

"So that's what happened before the finale?" Odyssey asks, getting a nod of confirmation from Seraphim. "How did they kidnap him?"

"They took him from the launch room," Seraphim sighs at this, clearly troubled by the kidnapped tributes. "I didn't know what else to do aside from end the Games quickly to make sure they didn't compromise anyone else. Also the rebels turned all of Delta's senses on and gave Demarcus his sight back to make sure you or Demarcus would win instead of her. And a bunch of other things that don't matter right now aside from the fact that there are five tributes missing right now."

Odyssey shakes his head, trying to process all of this information. He didn't even know that there were rebels in the country! And now…now there are tributes out there still alive? Tributes that didn't die and could maybe have a second chance at life, one they might not have if they had stayed in the arena. Escaped the fate that happened to his friend and the tributes he killed.

"So what you're saying is," Odyssey starts slowly, his voice low and making Seraphim glance nervously at Zephyr. "There's a chance that Bell could have still been alive if you hadn't forced us to fight against each other?"

"Well, we don't know for sure that the rebels would have taken her," Seraphim gives a nervous chuckle as Zephyr puts a firm hand on Odyssey's shoulder, keeping him down in the bed. "We don't know why they took the tributes that they did – aside from Adam. She still might have died in the arena considering they only took one career so-"

"You made me kill my friend!" Odyssey yells at him, tears welling in his eyes as his mind replays over and over the moment he plunged his spear into Bell, the blood on his hands, the fear in her eyes as she laid there, knowing she was dying… "She might have been alive still but you didn't give her the chance!"

"And you might not have been victor if she was still alive at that point," Zephyr tells him harshly, leaning over to make Odyssey look at him. "You don't know how that might have had a snowball effect if that fight never happened. She's not coming back and you need to be grateful that you made it out of that arena alive because sixteen tributes didn't and the other five are being held prisoners by fucking rebels."

Odyssey sinks back into his pillows at Zephyr raising his voice at him, instantly going back to younger years in the training center before he got serious about it and he would get yelled at by the victors and trainers for joking around. "I can't just let go of it," Odyssey tells him, his voice meek as he shakes his head. "Not after what I did after her death."

"Would you like me to pull up a list of all the victors that did something awful in their arena?" Zephyr asks him with a pointed look, and Odyssey shakes his head once more. "I'm sure Seraphim can easily get those records. But the answer is a majority of the victors. Most don't win by being nice or fair. I exploited the known mentoring styles of my allies to take them down and betray them. When you're in the Games, it's fight or die. You just made the choices that earned you the title of victor."

Seraphim clears his throat and the two victors both look over at him, Odyssey's anger dissipating as quickly as it arrived as he knows Zephyr is right… He just doesn't want to admit it to himself. It's easier to stay wallowing in self-pity than admit he did things that were wrong, all so he could stay alive. "I am sorry for putting you two against each other… Zephyr has made me understand how it was in his words, a bit of a dick move. Entertaining, yes, but not nice for you two. Would I make the decision again? Probably, since it's my job to keep the Games exciting. And the country is talking about you."

"I'm sure they have great things to say about me," Odyssey grumbles at this, really not believing that the country would be rooting for him after everything he did in that arena.

Seraphim shares a look with Zephyr before sighing, "Yes, I'm sure some aren't happy with you, but the majority is. And we need that right now. We don't know what might happen in the next few days…but we could certainly use the support of the newest victor."

"I really don't see how I can be helpful," Odyssey shrugs at him as he wonders if he could say no to him. But he probably should push his luck again against one of the most powerful people in the country, he might not be as forgiving this time. "I can try…but not because you asked. I'll do it because it's the right thing to do and maybe by doing this…I can make up for what I did in the Games."

"I told you he would help," Zephyr tells Seraphim as he gives Odyssey a few pats on the shoulder. He stands up, stretching his arms above his head before giving Odyssey a grin. "Don't stay up too long with Misha, your body needs to recover."

"Thanks for listening and agreeing to help, Odyssey," Seraphim tells him as worry spreads across his face. "This is so much bigger than the Games… We need all the help we can get. And now we'll send Misha in."

"Thanks…" Odyssey says slowly, not sure if he's ready to see Misha just yet. But what is he supposed to say to stop them? Tell them he's afraid of Misha rejecting him for what he did? He just thought he would have more time to prepare himself before seeing Misha…

Seraphim and Zephyr leave the door open behind them and Odyssey can hear muffled talking out in the hallway as he watches the empty doorway nervously. He doesn't know what he's even going to say to Misha. Try to make some sort of joke and pretend the Games didn't just happen? Start crying and beg Misha to not see him as the person he was in the arena?

Odyssey doesn't have much time to try and figure it out before Misha is stepping into the doorway where he pauses to lean against the doorway, just looking over and taking him in. Odyssey does the same, avoiding eye contact as he takes in the casual outfit of sweats, the disheveled hair, and the tired look on his face. But he doesn't miss the smile slowly beginning to form on Misha's face as he stares at Odyssey. "Hey there, denial boy."

A smile starts to form on Odyssey's face at the nickname he gave himself back at the party as Misha starts to walk into the room and Odyssey nervously looks down at his hands for a moment. "Hey," he says softly, glancing up a bit to look over at Misha, before groaning at the increased beeps coming from the heart rate monitor. He quickly rips off the electrodes connected to his chest as his cheeks heat up, embarrassed by the literal beeping sign to Misha of how he feels right now. "I got snitched by the hospital."

"They're going to come in here now thinking something is wrong, you know," Misha tells him, a hint of laughter in his voice that makes Odyssey flop back down onto the bed and pull a pillow over his head to hide from him.

"This is not how I pictured this happening," Odyssey says, voice muffled by the pillow as the door opens and Misha quietly reassures the doctors that Odyssey is fine.

Odyssey lifts the pillow a little to peek over at Misha as he walks over, amused smile on his face but his eyes show his hesitation. Odyssey sighs as he moves the pillow and sets it in his lap as Misha hesitates next to his bed, before Odyssey moves over and pats the free space next to him. "Sit, please?" Misha does as he asked and looks at Odyssey for a few seconds, letting him see what rough shape the victor is in right now. From the scruff on his face, he probably hasn't shaved since the Games started. His eyes are red and lined with heavy bags, making Odyssey start frowning at Misha's current state. "Are you okay?"

"Here you are, just got out of surgery, and you're asking me if I'm okay," Misha scoffs at this and forms a small smile as he shakes his head. "I'm supposed to be asking you that."

"Well I think the hospital setting gives away how I'm doing," Odyssey teases, using the humor to try and lighten up his own mood that's rapidly spiraling down at seeing Misha looking so rough. Surely it's his fault… "I bet if I stood up you would even see my butt."

"Woah there, maybe you shouldn't be moving out of your bed yet," Misha says through laughter as Odyssey pretends to try and stand up, and the sound makes him start genuinely smile. "No need to move that fast. We have plenty of time and opportunity for me to see your butt when we're not in a hospital."

"Do we?" Odyssey asks, growing serious once more. It was such a harmless statement, yet he doesn't know for sure if they will have that time. He doesn't know why Misha would want to be with him after seeing a nasty side of him in that arena. "I wouldn't blame you if after everything that happened you wouldn't want anything to do with me…"

Odyssey turns away from Misha as he feels his eyes prickling with tears, not wanting to watch Misha's face when he rejects him. "Odyssey…" Misha says softly before letting out a sigh. He gently takes Odyssey's hand, making him look back up at the older victor. "Do you really think I would be here if I didn't want to be with you? Or that I would have spent the past week barely sleeping or able to take myself away from the screen because I was worried that if I did, something would happen to you? Or not showered for days?"

"I probably didn't need to know that last one," Odyssey jokes as he uses the bandages over his arm to wipe away tears threaten to fall. He jokingly sniffs a few times and tries to make a face pretending Misha smells, but this just makes the tears come harder when he's able to smell the fresh clean smell of Misha.

"I showered before I came here," Misha says through laughter, before grabbing a tissue from the side of his bed and using it to gently wipe away the tears falling down Odyssey's cheeks. "Here, don't use your bandages to wipe away tears. That's not what they're there for."

"Sorry I'm a mess right now," Odyssey tells him softly before turning away from him, embarrassed to be turning into a blubbering mess in front of him. "I just expected more time to put myself back together a bit before I saw you, not that you would show up when I'm in a hospital gown."

"Don't apologize," Misha whispers as he uses his hand to gently move Odyssey's face so he's looking at him once more. "I've been where you are before. Screw anyone who tries to tell you that you can't be feeling this way right now. And don't ever apologize for feeling whatever it is you're going through."

"I don't really want to screw everyone that tries to tell me that," Odyssey jokes through his tears, making Misha shake his head at him, despite the smile on his face that he's fighting. "But you don't understand…"

"I don't?" Misha asks, confusion on his face as he raises an eyebrow and tilts his head at Odyssey. "I would argue I know better than most people."

Odyssey shakes his head at this, knowing Misha is right. All his fellow victors in Two will know what he's going through more than his family or friends. But they didn't go through exactly what he did… "You didn't have to kill your friend and then go on an angry spree fueled by the pain of taking her life that resulted in two more people being dead," Odyssey whispers, afraid to bring up what happened to him. Afraid that speaking it out loud will mean having to fully accept it and the way people view him for it.

"You're right," Misha agrees softly, surprising Odyssey at his agreement. He expected him to argue that he's wrong. "I don't know exactly what you're going through with that. But I know what you're going through with the confusion and guilt that comes from surviving the arena. The rest, well…I'll help you through it however I can. That is…if you want me around to help you. I would understand if you don't…it's my fault that you volunteered. I realized after the party that if I would have said something sooner, we could have figured out a different way to help you reach your dreams."

Odyssey lets out a big sigh at this, hating that Misha is blaming himself for the stupid choice he made on his own. "You'll get along great with my mother, she spent years telling me to find a different path. Listen to me," Odyssey pauses as he starts reaching over with his hand to put on Misha's cheek, before flinching away at the sight of the prosthetic. "It was my dumb decision, not yours. I didn't even think about alternatives, just thought the Games was the only way to get the fame to do drag as a career… I have to live with that choice and now…I need you around, not just want you around – which I certainly do a lot."

New tears start quickly pouring down his cheeks and he lets go of Misha's hand to grab tissues to try and wipe them away, but there's no stopping the flood of tears, or the flood of him words. "I just need one person that doesn't think I'm a monster for what I did or that I don't deserve to be here because right now I'm wondering a bit why I deserve it over the others that died. And now the Head Gamemaker is expecting me to be some sort of help with the country and I don't know how I'm supposed to do that when I can't even talk to you without becoming a blubbering idiot."

"The only part of that ramble that is true is the blubbering part," Misha tries to cheer him up, but this just makes Odyssey let out a sob and shake his head. Misha doesn't say anything else, instead leaning down and gently pulling him into a hug, clearly afraid of hurting him when he's supposed to be healing. But Odyssey doesn't give a damn about that now and wraps his arms around Misha, pulling him as close as possible to him and burying his nose in his hair. Never again is he going to take for granted something as simple as smelling things.

"Come here, you're not going to break me. The arena already did that," Odyssey tells him as he tries to pull Misha to lying next to him, only to find his arms weak and barely able to budge him. Instead, Misha moves carefully until he's laying next to Odyssey, holding him carefully around all the wires stuck in his arm or attached to him.

"You're not a monster," Misha whispers to him once settled next to him and Odyssey can feel a spot on his shoulder growing damp from Misha's tears, only making his own tears pour down his cheeks faster. "You're brave and handsome and courageous and you just did what you had to do to survive in that arena and I am proud of you for making it out of there. We all make mistakes in the arena…but what you did in there doesn't define you or the future."

"You don't know how badly I needed to hear that," Odyssey whispers to him, desperately holding on to the one thing keeping him grounded in reality right now and not going back into the arena. "I feel like I don't deserve you or being happy after all of that."

Misha picks up his head from Odyssey's shoulder so he can look at him with tearstained eyes, "Yes you do… You deserve to be happy, otherwise the deaths of the others will be in vain if you don't live now that you're a victor."

"Can we just take this one day at a time?" Odyssey asks him, feeling overwhelmed thinking too far ahead after just getting out of surgery and the arena. "Honestly…I kind of just want to sleep right now and forget about everything."

"I feel that, I could sleep for days. But forget everything?" Misha asks, a hint of teasing in his voice as he raises an eyebrow at him. "Even me?"

"Okay, everything but you," Odyssey answers and Misha laughs a little at this before leaning over to kiss him on the cheek, before resting his head back on his shoulder. Odyssey pulls him close once more and turns his face so his cheek rests against the top of Misha's head, and breaths in the smell of his woodsy shampoo for a minute, grounding him in right here and now. "Hey Misha? Stay with me, please."

"I'm not going anywhere."

Of course we needed to check in with our newest victor and see how he's doing after winning! It's still a bit surreal for me that we finally get to see Odyssey as the victor after so long of keeping it secret, but I'm excited for Victor Odyssey! And I didn't realize until before this chapter that we actually haven't seen Misha very much in story yet, but that's definitely going to change because as he said, he's not going anywhere. What do you think about Seraphim's decision to bring Misha out to get Odyssey to cooperate and will it work? And cooperate with what exactly?

I'm posting a deleted scene of Seraphim getting scolded by the three D2 victors and that will be up by time you reach this point, so check it out on my random story blog lol. You know I'll take any opportunity to write more of my D2 victors, especially this situation. Actually just keep an eye out for deleted scenes in general as we move forward because there's a lot of things I'd like to show but obviously there's only so much I can put in the actual story.

We also got some hints at the subplot and next chapter we're jumping full force into it so buckle up! That chapter should probably be up within a week or two! It's time for us to start finding out just what the rebels are doing with the five kidnapped tributes (and Luciano) and learn their fates!