TRIPLE UPDATE! – 1ST
Chapter One-Hundred-and-Fifty-Three; We've All Changed
"Seneca – damn, you really are sick?!"
Seneca frowned in bafflement as Vash rose from his chair swiftly, striding across the room to grasp Seneca by the shoulders.
"Sick? – No, I'm not. What are you talking about?" Seneca snapped, arching a brow in perplexity.
Vash dropped his hands to his sides as Seneca visibly straightened his spine, gazing haughtily at him.
"I was watching the televised event tonight when King said you were sick, plus you've turned up at my door looking as pale as death," Vash said sternly, pressing a palm to Seneca's forehead despite the younger's protests.
"Vash I'm not sick," Seneca enforced impatiently and the prevalent worry on the elder man's face dissipated.
Vash shook his head ruefully then, a grin stretching his lips before he pulled the Gamemaker towards him.
Seneca resisted the rough-armed embrace, rolling his eyes as he scoffed. "I'm not a boy anymore Vash," he mumbled admonishingly as the elder doctor with thick wavy black hair let him go.
Vash chuckled, "no you're not;" he agreed before his eyes were dimmed with fond remembrance. "Five years as Head Gamemaker – my brother would be proud of you – I'm proud of you! But…my brother, well - Lark always did consider you like a son Seneca."
Seneca shifted uncomfortably, as he schooled his features into something more stoic. Once he would have grinned at such praise but now, while there was an undeniable flush of pride there was also something like shame that followed it. And an admonishing voice that sounded suspiciously like Stephanie in his head, scolding him with words to the effect, that anyone who felt pride killing others was a monster.
Seneca Crane wanted Stephanie; the monster and the man agreed on that irrefutable point. Yet if Stephanie wanted him at all – as he had been allowing himself to hope more and more recently – it was only the man she was willing to get to know.
Seneca caught the curious look in Vash's clear blue eyes at his evident preoccupation.
"Not that I don't appreciate the visit," Vash began dryly, his blue eyes piercingly knowing, "but why are you really here Seneca when you should be at the event?"
Seneca squared his shoulders then, gaining some semblance of his usual confident demeanour.
"I do need your help," Seneca said seriously.
Vash's expression sobered again as he nodded affirmatively. "Of course – anything," he said immediately.
Seneca smirked slightly, "you don't even know what it is yet?" he teased lightly.
Vash mirrored his smirk as he shrugged carelessly. "You're practically family Seneca. Whatever it is you need, consider it done."
A grateful smile crossed Seneca's lips then, "I'm glad to hear it," he murmured.
"If it's a…sensitive issue we can take it down to my lab?" Vash suggested, sketching a brow questioningly.
Seneca smirked grimly as he nodded, "a sensitive issue is rather a mild term for it," he said wryly.
…
Three, Stephanie thought with some semblance of grim pride making her lips curve in a smirk.
She had secured three sponsors – by herself and taken care of at least one item on the agenda.
Stephanie had already considered that Sylva, Aral and Harron Landa could have been easily lying to her face when they pledged to sponsor her in the Games. But Stephanie pushed away the thought. Otherwise the last while spent enduring painful conversation with the three Landa family members had been a whole lot of excruciating suffering for nothing.
"I may have just secured three sponsors," Stephanie murmured when she felt Haymitch appear at her shoulder.
Haymitch smirked as he came around to stand before her.
Stephanie mirrored his smirk as she caught Haymitch's eye then.
"Well done sweetheart," he congratulated and Stephanie's smirk widened to a grateful grin.
Stephanie knew the only reason she had been able to keep it together long enough to speak with the Landas was because she had spotted Haymitch keeping close by her, and she was more grateful than she could put into words. Despite her resolve to be independent she needed him. She had never tried to directly appeal or obtain sponsors by herself, drawing on her own 'people-pleasing' skills solely, with no Haymitch to nudge her to shut up.
Stephanie was also infinitely grateful that Haymitch had relented and not made her face King…yet. However the thought of Gamemakers had her gaze drifting almost searchingly about the room.
Haymitch quirked a brow, "who are you looking for?"
A hot flush immediately flooded Stephanie's cheeks as she stammered unsure then for a moment. She couldn't possibly tell Haymitch the truth. That she was looking for a blue-eyed Gamemaker and wishing he was here so she wouldn't have to be interviewed by the chilling Gamemaker King.
"Erm, er…Fas' relatives," Stephanie said instead quietly.
Haymitch's brow smoothed with realisation and Stephanie couldn't quite tell if he had bought her lie or not. He took a generous gulp of his drink before answering her.
"They're not here – refused the invitation. They said they wanted the time to grieve for Fas alone," Haymitch recited.
Stephanie smiled sadly, "I'm glad they're not here – not for my sake! But for theirs, if you get me?"
Haymitch smiled faintly, "I know," he understood.
Stephanie sighed heavily as she looked down, chewing on her inner cheek anxiously. "I still wonder who killed Fas," Stephanie confessed quietly and she heard Haymitch release a measured breath.
"At least you know for certain that it was nothing to do with you," Haymitch replied after a long moment and Stephanie looked up sharply. The added unsaid appendage to Haymitch's words was of course, now she knew for certain that it was nothing to do with her – because Seneca had confirmed it. Haymitch believed her word about Seneca protesting his innocence and Stephanie smiled gratefully at Haymitch, feeling a swell of love for the man.
Stephanie laughed lightly in the next moment though, dropping her gaze again and Haymitch arched a brow in half-amusement and half-puzzlement.
"What is it sweetheart?" he questioned warily.
Stephanie shrugged slightly, "I was imagining Ellen saying something entirely insensitive about how 'this is the Hunger Games and we aren't here to play murder mysteries.'"
Haymitch chuckled ruefully, taking another long drink even as he shook his head hopelessly. "Yea that sounds like Ellen alright," he agreed, "where is she anyway?"
Stephanie cast about her for a moment. She hadn't seen the blue-haired woman since she had carted Frenkin off for his Gamemaker interview and that had ended a while ago. Stephanie had barely had a moment to offer the bespeckled boy a reassuring smile though, before Isa had swooped in on him. Frenkin had then been for the past twenty minutes nestled securely amongst his loyal cooing supporters of Mrs Ara and her friends.
Stephanie had essentially pleaded shamelessly with Haymitch then to let her postpone her interview with King. The interviews had no sets times and were essentially to be conducted at the Gamemaker's convenience, so she wouldn't be interrupting schedule Stephanie had wheedled. Stephanie suspected however, that Haymitch had only relented because of the deep distaste he evidently held for King, and that thought was not a reassuring one. Stephanie was sure if Electra had of been beside them she would have shoved Stephanie straight after King, along with the mantra – 'This is the Hunger Games Stephanie; grin and bear it!'
Stephanie was snapped from her musings as her sights landed on the very person she had been searching for, before her brow almost immediately puckered with puzzlement.
"What on earth is Ellen doing?" Stephanie asked as she eyed the blue-haired woman a few feet away.
Electra was perched comfortably on a table holding the attention of the sizable rapt crowd of about twenty or so Capitolites and even a few tributes, gathered around her eagerly. The woman was also notably swaying a little.
Haymitch arched a brow as he surveyed the scene with Stephanie, "spreading gossip," he guessed.
Stephanie shook her head softly, "does Ellen look a bit - ?"
"Drunk?" Haymitch finished for her with a wry smirk. Stephanie returned it.
"It's a tactic she uses to get people to tell her things they wouldn't when she's sober," Haymitch muttered and Stephanie raised her brows, suitably impressed.
"She does play drunk pretty convincingly," Stephanie murmured with a grin as she looked once more at Electra.
Haymitch frowned thoughtfully, his grin lessening slightly, "very convincing," he agreed.
"I imagine if I were drunk at this party I'd probably do something unthinkable," Stephanie added, eyeing her trusty prop of ever-full glass of alcohol.
Haymitch sketched a brow as he glanced at her prompting.
Stephanie smiled embarrassedly as she ran a hand across her forehead sheepishly. "The childish part of me if I were drunk would want to go about splashing through that fountain," Stephanie said teasingly as she pretended to eye up the centre-piece fountain appraisingly.
Haymitch snorted as he shook his head at her hopelessly, "well that's one way to grab the Capitol's attention," he conceded sardonically.
Stephanie rolled her eyes, still grinning, "I'm not sure that's the scandal Ellen is aiming on generating for me though," she said ruefully.
"Where are you alliance partners?" Haymitch asked suddenly.
Stephanie frowned thoughtfully as her gaze flickered about the room searchingly.
Tain and Astara were at opposite sides of the room, as per usual and Stephanie sighed sadly as she noted it.
"It looks like the district 5 boy – Prall Underling – is taking your lead," Haymitch said, as he eyed a distant sight over the rim of the glass he was sipping from.
Stephanie looked over her shoulder discreetly and couldn't help but gasp slightly as she saw Prall. Prall Underling was in conversation with Sylva, Harron and Aral Landa.
"He'll be telling them you and he are in an alliance," Haymitch deduced shrewdly.
Stephanie frowned as she looked at Haymitch, "is that good?" she asked uncertainly.
Haymitch sighed as he lowered his glass. "It can be," Haymitch conceded after a long moment.
"But…" Stephanie prompted knowingly.
"If the Landas' sponsor you and Prall collectively it will strengthen your alliance. But – if, like you say Prall can't be trusted, he's making sure to get a piece of anything you have for himself."
Stephanie chewed on her inner cheek contemplatively. There wasn't much she could do about Prall, besides trying to get the rest of the alliance behind her to boot Prall out. But that was something that Electra had quite bluntly told her she would be an idiot to do. And as much as Stephanie hated to admit it; Prall was probably one of the most able people in their alliance; they needed him.
"Hey…"
Stephanie jumped slightly at the soft touch to her elbow to see Haymitch had stepped closer, his grey eyes as bright and keen as ever in the soft light.
"I'll be fine," Stephanie said confidently, trying to reassure him as much as herself.
Haymitch tilted his head to the side slightly, looking at her almost appraisingly.
"What is it?" Stephanie said with a slight smile as she arched a brow.
Haymitch shrugged absently as he stepped back again, his fingers slipping from her elbow. Stephanie swallowed the lump of pain at the loss of contact, trying not to let her mask of cool composure crack.
"You've changed," Haymitch replied and Stephanie blinked as her eyes widened in shock.
Stephanie shrugged jerkily then as she tried to sound nonchalant, "what do you expect Haymitch? It's this Capitol," she spat.
Haymitch smirked slightly, reaching out a hand to grasp her chin gently between his thumb and forefinger. Stephanie's breath hitched in her throat, her mind effortlessly recalling countless times before when Haymitch would then lean down to press his lips against hers. She also distantly worried that they were in the middle of a Capitol party.
"No, I didn't mean it as a bad thing," Haymitch revised, "you seem…stronger."
Stephanie felt faint pride swell inside her as Haymitch released his hold.
"I'm standing on my own two feet now Haymitch, not hiding behind anyone and relying utterly on you," Stephanie told him.
Haymitch seemed like he was about to say more and Stephanie's heart hammered in her ears as she waited. But a sudden loud chorus of gasps sounded and Stephanie and Haymitch both turned instinctively.
Electra seemed to beam proudly as the Capitolites before her conversed almost frantically amongst themselves, even the tributes were wide-eyed at whatever Electra had told them.
"It seems Ellen is creating trouble for herself as usual," Haymitch muttered sarcastically as he glanced fondly in the direction of the blue-haired woman.
Stephanie smirked. Despite her short acquaintance with Electra Hocol she imagined creating trouble for herself was something Ellen would indulge in quite often. Most likely something the blue-haired woman was an expert at.
"You should probably drag her off before she has a chance to get herself arrested," Stephanie muttered sardonically as she and Haymitch exchanged rueful smirks.
Haymitch looked to her then frankly, and Stephanie saw the question clearly in Haymitch's grey eyes.
"I'll be fine by myself, don't worry," Stephanie murmured, allowing her hand to brush against his like it used to.
Haymitch smirked gently, returning the touch of reassurance.
"I know," he replied, before he moved off to drag Electra from her pontificating podium before the drink loosened her lips too much to say something potentially dangerous.
Stephanie watched Haymitch weave his way through the crowds, feeling her spine straighten.
Once Haymitch would never have left her alone at a party like this but now…she and Haymitch still loved one another but ironically now they were no longer together their relationship had evened.
Stephanie was no longer the utter reliant on Haymitch that she had been; she wasn't constantly driving him to drink and drowning in despair with the inevitable trouble she found herself in that always seemed to involve Seneca. Haymitch would of course, always want Stephanie to tell him everything, no matter how much it hurt him, but it was Stephanie that had changed also.
She was more independent now and it made Stephanie's steps that little surer as she passed the golden fountain, heading for the buffet tables.
Stephanie allowed her fingertips to trail in the cool water that felt like champagne bubbles frothing against her skin. The feel of the water made Stephanie's thoughts turn to Seneca and Stephanie considered ruefully that they had all changed.
Haymitch had changed from a man drowning in despair to one that slowly began to hope once more due to Stephanie. Stephanie had almost destroyed that burgeoning light in him again, dragging him down even further than his initial desolation. All Haymitch's hope had rested on Stephanie, and yet with each passing second it seemed Stephanie was the one thing he was losing more and more and it was destroying him. But now that Haymitch had time to breathe again he was…recovering.
Stephanie had changed from relying on others to always tell her what to do to realising that she needed to step up and take control of her own decisions and life. It was ironic she considered, that she should gain some semblance of self-freedom at the precise time she had exactly no freedom over her life.
Freedom…Stephanie swallowed tightly, as the thought and the feel of cool water on her skin made her thoughts irrevocably go to a blue-eyed Gamemaker.
Seneca had undoubtedly changed also; not completely from monster to man, but partially and he would never be the same again.