Chapter 2
A/N- So, I have a beta! I completely forgot to mention her in my earlier chapter's note, but thanks a million to Casey (HopelessAddicttoWriting)) for agreeing to put up with my insanity… I mean, thank you for beta editing. Oh, who am I kidding? I should say, thank you, Casey, for editing this and not calling 911 every time you think I could use a padded room and straightjacket. I'm sure that's quite often. : )
'Here it goes,' I think to myself as soon as I see those dark blue eyes open. 'Here it goes…'
Tentatively, I cross over into his field of vision. The second I'm closer, I can very clearly see that being physically awake doesn't necessarily guarantee a state of lucidity. But, since I can't say anything, I have to rely entirely on body language to communicate my curiosity and concern. Doing the only thing I can think of, I come even closer. Now three steps away, I am just close enough to make out the name that he is murmuring. First, it's just breathed out, emotionless. Then, a question. But I continue to move forward. Eventually, when I am only about half a step away, I get that feeling that someone is staring at me. Looking back, I see that his eyes are trained on my face. The name is repeated again, this time with insistence, as though the name is mine.
'No,' I want to say. 'No. I'm not Clove.' But I can't. Of course, I can't. I really do wish I could, though, as shaking my head doesn't quite quell the disbelief of my identity. Faster and faster, more insistently each time, I continue to shake my head. Oddly, despite my continuous protest, the thought that I am someone else, that I am Clove, seems to provide reassurance. So, for now, I can go along with it. It can't hurt, right?
Though, as is typical when waking up from a period of prolonged unconsciousness or, as in this case, a coma, he's asleep again after a few minutes. But right before, he reaches out and grabs my hand. The grasp sends tingles down my arm, and I'm not sure quite why. But, on my quest to keep my old childhood promise, I stay right there. During the next two hours, the same thing happens three times. Each time is a longer period of consciousness, which is a really good sign. After that mutt attack, well, none of the doctors or Gamemaker's seemed too hopeful. Some even said that this may be the first year without a victor.
Looking down at him, I only have one thought; 'Proved them wrong, didn't you?' One thing's for sure; he's a fighter. Maybe, just maybe, one day we could fight against the Capitol…
Wow, wait; what kind of a crazy idea is that? No, no way. That absolutely will never happen. It just makes no sense. But still, I can't pretend that the idea does not tempt me. It did in the past, and it does now, still.
But at the same time, know that we can't. My heart wants it, though my mind protests. I also know that I can't bring it up. I would hate to be the one responsible if someone else is punished for an anti-Capitol rebellion. The idea, if acted upon, would lead to nothing but trouble.
Though my brain knows this is wrong, I can't help but listen to my conscience as it tells me that silence isn't just the state of noiselessness. It tells me that not having an auditory voice doesn't mean that I have any excuse for not allowing others to listen. Forces speechlessness does not equal not having a voice; it just means I have to find a new way to be heard. Just as I did two weeks ago, it's a quote that helps me to reach a decision; actions speak louder than words.
So when the time is right, when we're both ready, when a plan is made, the answer is yes.
The only problem is that, as of right now, I'm the only one who sees any need to fight.