The Cost of Survival
Self-Absorbed Author's Ramblings
Happy New Year!
This one's going to be a Mike-centric chapter, I hope that's okay with you guys. There's a big Tike scene too, and I tried to keep it short, but it was a particular scene that I couldn't just rush through, and it's something that's left a very big impact on Mike, and it's one of the reasons he's so protective of Tina and worries a lot about her when she starts to get frustrated with problems she has to deal with. It also hints at some of the things Tina might be thinking about when she seems to be holding back talking to Brittany.
This chapter's not as distressing as the past several ones though. It's kind of tame. Look out for the next one though. Chapter 16 is going to have a Brittany bit and a Santana bit and something pretty big happens, just moments before arena time.
Chapter 15
Capitol. 72nd Hunger Games.
Hunched over in an attempt to look as small as possible and give Judy a more limited range of parts to hit, Mike didn't fight back when she slammed her palm against the back of his head. "And you know what?"
Her hand darted forward and seized his chin. Rough enough that something in his neck made a popping sound, Judy lifted his face up, forcing him to meet her wild, crazed eyes. "If it weren't for you, Quinnie might have been the top of her class."
This one was a revelation to Mike. Most nights, the topic of discussion was how weak he was and how terrifying it is to be in the arena and how only the strong could survive. Judy hardly ever brought up Quinn.
"Russel wouldn't have been so hard on her. Maybe he wouldn't have left us. Maybe Quinn wouldn't have run away!"
Mike saw a fist coming towards his face and shut his eyes just as it impacted against his cheek. The force of it sent him staggering back and right into the wall, pain exploding over his skin. Biting back a gasp and a whimper, Mike stayed where he was, not daring to move a muscle, even to check on the gradually forming bruise.
"You're going to die in that arena, you know." Judy grabbed the bottle she'd left on the dresser. "Everyone dies there. Part of me died in there. Everyone dies in there!" Fear sent shivers through Mike's body as Judy came nearer, brandishing the bottle, reminding him all too well of Mr. Puckerman and the feel of glass shards piercing flesh.
As Judy lifted the bottle over her head, the door burst open and everything seemed to just freeze for a minute or two. Mike was faced with Johanna and Santana's shock as they took in the situation, while Judy turned to face them, confusion and disbelief showing in how slowly she moved.
Johanna was the first to take action, striding towards Judy and wrenching the bottle from her hands. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"
"That's mine!" Judy tried to take the bottle from Johanna, but she pushed Judy back and kept it out of reach. "Give it back!"
"You've had more than enough, Fabray."
"I decide what is or isn't enough, I know what I'm doing." Judy began shouting at Johanna, and it escalated into hitting her shoulder and screaming, "Now give me back my fucking drink and get the fuck out of here, I'm training my tribute!"
"Training?" Raising her voice over Judy's, Johanna actually scared Mike with the viciousness in that tone. "You call this training?"
"You're one messed up bitch." Santana had gotten over her shock enough to start moving forward, but was stopped by the commanding tone in Johanna's voice.
"You stay out of this." Johanna stared Santana down before returning focus to Judy. "And you." The two were about the same height, but even if Judy was years older, Johanna put forth a stronger, more intimidating posture. "Get your ass out of here or you're gonna be waking up tomorrow with more pain than the usual hangover."
Anyone with at least the smallest pinch of sense would be able to tell that Johanna had no qualms against following through with such a threat. No matter how drunk she was, Judy was able to see sense, and took a step back.
"Fine." She glanced at Mike, "Fine." With that as her parting word, Judy left the room.
When she was gone, Mike felt a sense of calm go over him, putting away the fear and coaxing him into relaxing. He leaned against the wall to support himself and as the tension left his body, the pain came creeping into place. There was that bruise on his face now, throbbing. His shoulders and arms were sore from swats and punches he'd received earlier on.
"Are you hurt?" Johanna asked.
"I'm fine." The response came automatically. Mike was so used to saying it, he didn't even pause to think anymore whenever he heard that question. This was nothing new anyway. It had come to feel like a typical evening for Mike.
Even if Judy had already left the room, and most of the fear was gone, Mike still heard her words ringing in his ears, reminding him of how weak he really was, and how unlikely it really was for him to come home as a victor than as a corpse.
Johanna seemed to be able to see through the lie. "I'll get some ointment." Then she added to Santana, "Keep an eye on him."
Capitol. 72nd Hunger Games.
Anger burned through Santana at the sight of Mike doubled over and trembling, eyes wide with fear. All this time, she had assumed that the Peacekeepers had been picking on Mike. Given, it wasn't such a bad guess considering what Brittany and Quinn were put through. The Peacekeepers were capable of that.
But Judy Fabray?
Just when Santana thought she couldn't hate that woman any more than she already did, this happened. Was using Quinn as a punching bag not enough? Knowing that Judy actually did this made Santana wonder if Mike wasn't the first tribute who had to go through this. How many other tributes had to be mentored like this?
Concern was the only thing keeping Santana from giving in to rage and going off to strangle Judy. Mike had moved out of his hunched over position by the wall to sit at the edge of the bed, head in his hands.
That was what he dealt with every night.
All those nights spent on the roof with Quinn and Rachel were probably the reason why the shouting never reached Santana's ears. If she had been in her own room, there was no doubt she would have been awake to hear what went on behind Mike's door, just adjacent to hers.
"You aren't worthless." Santana sat down next to Mike and tried talking to him. Always bad at this kind of thing, Santana wasn't sure if she was saying the right words. "You got this. Tomorrow, you'll get through it. You'll make it."
Still with his face in his hands, Mike just shrugged.
Brittany was the one who was good at this.
Santana was still trying to think of something else to say to Mike when Johanna came back in with the familiar cream that had been necessary almost every morning since arriving here. If Mike had just bothered to say something, it would have stopped much sooner. If he just told them it was his mentor and not random Peacekeepers, this might have been fixed from Day One.
Just when Mike was starting to step up and act almost like his old self again, he was back to being that dejected, discouraged shell. How was Santana supposed to fix this? If Mike went into the arena tomorrow with exactly this kind of mindset, there was no way he was going to last long in there. He had to remember that he could get through this.
Quinn needed at least one of them to get out of the arena alive. If Santana failed, Mike would have to be the one to figure it out, and that couldn't be possible if he died within the first hour because he barely tried.
"Hey, let me take a look." With a voice that was unusually soft and friendly, Johanna dragged a seat from the dresser to the bed and positioned herself in front of Mike. When he didn't respond, she touched his hair, stroking the short black strands in a way that Santana could imagine was comforting and soothing.
It was enough to coax Mike into lifting his head from his hands, letting them see the gradually developing bruises across his face. Splotches of skin along his jaw and cheek were several shades darker already. From the deep shadows cast by the bedside lamp, Santana could see light swelling.
His eyes though were what bothered Santana the most. That dejected, unmotivated look was back, and it was punctuated by sorrow and fear and a pink, shiny tint.
"Bitch shouldn't have done that to you." With surprising gentleness that contrasted sharply with her words, Johanna applied the medicine, moving with the lightest, slowest touches of her fingertips. "I'll give her hell for it."
"You'd better." If Johanna didn't, Santana sure as hell would.
Mike mumbled something that sounded rough against his throat. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed before trying again. "I'm sorry."
Johanna tilted her head and raised an eyebrow. "What the hell for?" She finished up with his face and reached for more ointment.
Avoiding eye contact by keeping his eyes cast downwards, Mike shrugged, "The trouble."
The answer irritated Johanna, and she rolled her eyes at it but seemed to decide against showing her frustration. "Where else did she hit you?"
Feeling useless just sitting there and watching, Santana moved closer and took some of the ointment and began spreading it over the bruises along his left arm. Flitting across her mind were the images of Brittany's much worse, much bigger injuries. The light winces Mike tried to hide told Santana how much it hurt, and she tried to be as gentle as she could, but the pictures burned into her mind were making her tense and jerky.
Meanwhile, Johanna attended to Mike's other arm, and asked again when he didn't answer. "We're working on what we can see, but I'm pretty sure there might be more." Probably more experienced than Santana, Johanna finished up fast with the arm she was working on. "Unless you want to head into the arena tomorrow with that soreness dragging you down, show us where else she got at you."
That had been a lot harsher than it should have been. Mike winced at the tone and hesitated.
"We're here to help." Santana softened her tone and tried to meet Mike's eyes. Eye contact was never and still wasn't something Santana was into, but with the way it was so hard to get through to Mike now, she wanted to try anything that might form some kind of connection with him. He needed help getting out of this slump. "Let us, okay?"
Finally, he took hold of the hem of his shirt and lifted it up to his chest, revealing ugly splotches of color over his stomach. Another detail Santana noticed and felt struck by was how thin Mike looked now.
He had always been a lean guy, with nothing like the tough, broad build Puck had, but this was something else. Ribs protruding through his skin were more defined than Santana remembered, and she recalled how little he would eat since that depression fell over him. On their first day, in the train going here, Mike devoured what was in front of him with almost animalistic enthusiasm. After that night that was probably when Judy first started training him, Mike's eating habits changed. At the time, Santana had been too focused on catching up with Quinn to notice the change in Mike.
Johanna tended to the bruises while Santana decided to back off because with how shaky she got working on Mike's arms, she might even do more damage if she tried anything else. The pictures of Brittany still kept passing by, in between the guilt and distress and everything else.
Finally, Johanna finished up with Mike's stomach and said, "Anywhere else?"
"That's it." Mike's answer was barely above a whisper.
Johanna capped the container and stood up. She looked like she was about to leave when she paused and ran her hands through his hair again. "Whatever Fabray said to you tonight, and during all those previous nights… none of it's the truth." She paused, giving Mike the opportunity to say something, and when he didn't, Johanna nodded and left the room. "I'll handle Fabray. You two get some rest."
When the door closed behind Johanna, Santana looked at Mike and tried again, "You shouldn't be giving up before we even get into the arena."
"Isn't that the same thing you told Sunshine?" Mike's voice wavered as he spoke, and when he finally looked her in the eye, there was a brighter shine and a redder tint. "I remember after you encouraged her, you told me how she has like barely any chances of winning."
"I didn't-"
"You did." Some force latched onto Mike's tone as he spoke over her. "So how can I believe anything you tell me now?"
Taken aback by how Mike practically accused her of being a liar, Santana retorted without thinking. "So you'd rather listen to Quinn's bitch mother than me?"
"I-I…" Mike shook his head, retreating after his previous outburst. "I don't know."
"Well you seem so set on what she says, and you won't even hear me out." The irritable response went tumbling out of Santana's mouth before she could stop it.
Mike look alarmed by her aggressive tone and leaned away from her. There was a whiny tone to his voice when he said, "I don't know what to believe anymore, okay?"
Damn that Judy Fabray for screwing Mike up so much. The skittishness in his movements now was all because of her. She practically programmed him to go into the arena with diminished chances of winning. Why would she even do that? All that alcohol fried her brain completely. That or she took some sick pleasure in destroying people. That's what she did to Quinn, and it was what she did to Mike, and who knew how many more tributes went into the arena feeling horrible about themselves?
"Come on, Mike!" The anger and hatred she felt towards Judy was making Santana hotheaded and snappy. "Judy Fabray?" How could Mike let her do this to him? "You've seen what she did to Quinn and how much she got so screwed up by that bitch! How can you believe anything she says?"
If Santana could just drive a fist into Judy Fabray's face with all her perfect make-up and false smile…
"You don't know what it was like!" Mike's sudden shout surprised Santana into recoiling. "I already know I'm not tough and vicious like you, and I already know that if District 7 gets a victor this year, it's more likely to be you than me."
How could he be so sure of that? For all the toughness she tried to show on camera, Santana didn't think of herself as all that tough. Especially after that interview, when all the strength she tried to keep together just fell apart.
"You can throw a freaking ax!" Mike pointed at himself. "And me? What am I even good at?"
Santana swallowed. That part kind of got her. All that time she'd spent practicing with axes just might prove useful in the arena tomorrow. At the very least, if she got her hands on one, she would be able to defend herself more or less effectively. And all the fights she'd gotten into through the years did toughen her up a bit.
Meanwhile, Mike had only ever been in like one or two fights, as far as Santana could remember. That brawl with Mr. Puckerman had left Mike in really bad shape, too. As for the tiny scuffle with Azimio and Dave, that could barely even be counted as a fight.
"Look…" Still alarmed by the intensity to Mike's posture and voice, Santana tried to calm him down, "I'm sorry-"
"What can dancing do for me in the arena?" Panic was in Mike's raised voice as he leaned closer to Santana. "I'm not a fighter, Santana. You tell me how I'm supposed to fight and kill tomorrow."
"You can run, right?" Santana grasped the first thought that came to mind. "Or climb trees or-"
Mike interrupted again, still with that raised, panicked voice, though this time there was what almost sounded like frustration mixed in, too. "Why are you even wasting time with me when you could be focusing on yourself? On winning and getting back home?"
"I don't know!" Santana threw her hands up, agitated by the almost argumentative tone Mike was using. "Maybe because I actually give a fuck about you?"
"It'd be much easier if you didn't."
"Well I do, and I can't help it!" He made it sound so easy to turn off how she felt, and that irritated Santana. This was something she already went through and established with Brittany. In saying that, Mike almost sounded like a younger Santana scolding Brittany for worrying too much, for nagging too much about how the Peacekeepers were going to punish Santana's poorly planned crimes. "And Tina can't fucking help it either. And your parents." At least he still had parents who were waiting for him back home.
Mike seemed caught off-guard. "I…"
Santana took advantage of his pause and pushed forward, "Don't you want to try for them?"
Putting his hands in his hair, Mike clutched at it and shook his head. "I'm just so confused right now." Nostalgia and discomfort struck Santana. This time, she was reminded of Puck and how troubled he was in the days and months leading up to when he and Quinn had to take off. "There's so much going on in my head and it's so hard to think and I'm scared and guilty and worried and I just feel so lost."
"You think I don't feel like that, too?" The intensity of this conversation was enough to keep Santana's mind occupied for now, but she knew that once they were done talking and it was time to head back to her own room and try getting some sleep, the dreams of Brittany would come plaguing again. A happy dream or a sad dream wouldn't make too much of a difference to how Santana felt because either way, it would remind her that back home, Brittany was trapped in a broken body with pretty much no money that could be spent on proper treatments.
Again, Mike seemed to be affected by her words and retreated both in the way he spoke and in the way he backed away from Santana a little, increasing the distance between them on the bed. "I…" He brought his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs. "I'm sorry."
There he was again with those unnecessary apologies. "Stop saying that and think, okay?" Santana brought her legs up to the bed as well, and moved so they were both facing each other.
"About what?" Mike sounded whiny again, "There's so much to-"
"Tina." Santana hadn't quite meant to shout, but the name did come out in pretty much a scream.
Mike flinched.
"You love her, don't you?" If the way they acted around each other was any indication, Santana was pretty sure that Tina and Mike cared a lot about each other. The word love felt strange in Santana's mouth. She tried not to think about the way Quinn and Rachel assumed that's what Santana felt for Brittany.
"Of course I do."
Santana ignored the little voice in her head that still asked if what she had with Brittany was the same as what Mike had with Tina. There were a lot of similarities of course, but Santana still didn't know how to address how exact the similarities were. "She wants you to be back home. You know she does."
Turning his head and eyeing something on his bedside table, Mike mumbled, "I feel like I'm just going to disappoint her."
Inwardly, Santana felt a similar fear pass through her. What if she disappointed Brittany? The most amazing, gentle, beautiful person in all Panem was lying somewhere right now, and when they last saw each other, she had also made Santana promise to at least try to win. As it was, she wasn't quite sure she would be able to keep that promise, especially given how tough some of the tributes looked, and how distracted Santana was becoming every time she thought about what the Peacekeepers put Brittany through.
"Try." Santana swallowed her own fears and tried to calm Mike's.
"What if it's not enough?" He continued to voice what Santana herself felt and worried about.
"Just try." Santana insisted, as much to herself as to Mike. Further remembering that this was more for Mike's benefit, Santana thought to add, "You love your parents, don't you? They want you back, I'm sure."
The only family Santana had left were Brittany and Amy, and they were at huge risk now because of the bad choices and irrational impulses Santana had. At least Mike's parents were still okay, and just waiting for him to get back to them.
"Yeah… there's a chair I was supposed to help dad fix after the Reaping…" Mike sounded distracted, but at least he seemed to be paying attention enough to consider her points.
"Try then." Santana said, "So you can get back home and help your dad with that chair. Take care of your mom. Make Tina proud." The things she had also said just before the Reaping went through Santana's mind. She recalled telling Amy that they would pick flowers at the edge of the forest together. And later in the week, Brittany and Santana were supposed to look into finally buying a table for the dining room-kitchen. They'd finally scrounged up enough money to find a cheap but decent one. Unless Brittany went ahead and bought it, the money would probably go into medicine and treatments now.
Mike reached for his bedside table and took something from it.
"Try to fight." Santana continued when Mike still didn't say anything. "Try to survive. Try to get back home."
Mike looked up from what he was holding and met Santana's eyes. "What about you?"
Reaching for the little blue stone at her throat, Santana touched it, remembering when Brittany gave it and what she said that day in the Justice Building, just before Santana was shipped off. "I'm going to try, too."
"Are we going to be enemies tomorrow?" Mike's hand closed over the object and the tension in his hands showed that he was clutching it tightly.
Santana tried drawing some strength from her token. With Brittany, honesty was always one of those things they valued most. Honesty and trust. Even if more often than not, it was difficult for Santana to open up to Brittany about distressing thoughts or to confess the latest crime, Santana tried just the same. Sometimes she would choose to have her makeout sessions with Puck instead, but it didn't really reach the same level. Santana and Puck weren't that open with each other. That one night when they ended up talking instead of having sex was probably the most open they had ever been with each other.
Should Santana be honest with Mike now?
Opening up to him still felt uncomfortable, but Santana reminded herself that there was no harm in it. They were running out of time, and once they were in the arena, in front of all those cameras, there would barely be any opportunity for them to talk to each other with any privacy.
"I thought about that on the first day, y'know." Santana admitted, "When your name was picked out and we rode in the train together. I thought maybe it would be easier if we pretended not to give a damn about each other." She still remembered how she shook off Mike's concern after that small confrontation with Judy and Johanna during the train ride.
"When we first boarded the train…" Mike sounded much much calmer now. His tone was thoughtful and reflective instead of panicked and agitated. "I thought maybe we could help each other."
After a brief moment of hesitation, Santana moved closer to Mike, crawling over to his side of the bed so they could sit shoulder to shoulder, leaning against the headboard. Mike didn't move away. "That's what I think now." Looking back at her original plan of distancing herself from Mike, Santana realized how bad it really was. "I mean look what's happened to us when we're not telling each other what's going on."
If they had been more open with each other, then maybe Santana could have saved Mike from Judy somehow. Maybe things would have worked out differently if they didn't have awkward walls of silence between them.
"We're better off when we're looking out for each other. Right?"
Mike loosened his grip on what he was holding, and Santana got to see that it was a wooden figurine, carved into the shape of a prancing deer. "So we'll stick together tomorrow?"
If there was anyone Santana could trust to have her back tomorrow, it was Mike. "Yes."
Lauren might be okay for a while since they had a deal, but alliances didn't always last very long, and the closer things get towards the end of the Games, the harder it is to continue trusting the ally. Santana was pretty sure Lauren could just as easily be an enemy tomorrow, and there was no guarantee that they really wouldn't kill each other if things got too tense. Already, they could barely get along just discussing the idea of becoming allies. Extended time spent with each other might just be too much tension and frustration for either of them to handle.
And Sam? How could Santana really trust him when he'd chosen to stick with the Careers? None of those spoiled, bloodthirsty tributes would go easy on Santana or Mike tomorrow. If it ever came to a situation where they had to directly fight each other, of course Sam would stick with his pack and try to kill Santana or Mike.
The idea of feeling the prongs of a trident running through her stomach and coming out of her back made Santana feel squeamish.
"If I don't make it…" Mike was speaking again, and Santana didn't like what she was hearing. Again.
"Don't say that."
"Just if." Mike put more force into his tone. "Just hear me out, okay?" Santana saw the clarity in Mike's eyes. This time, he wasn't going to mope about how hopeless it was. From the sound of it, what he was going to bring up would be different. More of his own thoughts than whatever shit Judy injected into his head. "If I don't make it… please keep an eye on Tina?"
Recognizing the little figure in Mike's hand as Tina's craftsmanship, Santana realized how serious a question this way. "Mike…"
"Promise me you'll look out for her." Mike was still looking right at Santana's eyes, and it was hard to look away. "She's… she's not the best at socializing ever since her brothers came into the picture…" Santana remembered that Tina grew noticeably distant around the year her fist brother was born. Although that was a time when so much was happening, their whole group could barely keep track of each other anymore and sort of just split into little groups and pairs.
When Mike reached out and took one of Santana's hands, she stiffened out of habit and reflex. Forcing herself to relax in the intimacy she just wasn't used to, Santana listened to what else Mike had to say. "A lot of things can really get to her. Sometimes… sometimes all she needs is someone to talk to." It would be tricky for Santana to attempt establishing communication with Tina, especially given the fact that they weren't that close to each other. In their group, Santana had always been closer to Brittany and Quinn. And then there was that thing with Puck.
Tina and Santana didn't talk that much.
"Please?" But the way Mike was bugging Santana about it, and that look in his eyes was making her feel guilty.
"Only if you promise to help Britts and Ames if I don't make it." Santana said what she thought would make this a fair deal. Or fair enough at least.
"I promise." Mike said without even pausing to blink or breathe or hesitate.
Santana sighed, "I promise, too."
Again, Santana felt bombarded by the fear of disappointing Brittany. If she was conscious enough to watch tomorrow's screening, she would see how Santana would handle whatever came up in the arena. If she did something stupid or made another ridiculously bad choice or gave into another idiotic impulse, Brittany would see. If Santana performed poorly tomorrow, Brittany would see. If Santana died, Brittany would see.
Interrupting Santana's thoughts, Mike asked, "And Quinn?"
Quinn.
There was someone else who would probably be watching the Games. She would also be watching people she cared about get thrown into an arena to literally fight for their lives. Recently reunited after being apart for more than a year, they would be pulled apart again, and whatever happened, she would still be forced to watch at least one friend's death. Two if the victor wasn't District 7. Three if not even Rachel makes it out.
After growing up with lousy parents and then running away, only to be caught and have her tongue ripped out, could things get any worse for Quinn? She deserved so much better than this.
"Whichever one of us gets out has to help Quinn." Santana said, "And Mr. Pierce." He should be reunited with his daughter. He should know what his former coworkers did to her. "We have to get them out of here." Again, Santana still didn't have a concrete plan of how to get them out or where to take them. She just knew that every day they spent here was wrong. "I can't figure out where to take them yet, but wherever it is has to be way out of the Capitol's reach."
"Not even District 7 will be safe for them anymore." Mike said. "Assuming we can get them out of this place."
"But Britt has to at least see her dad one more time and catch up for a bit." Even if they didn't yet have any idea how they were going to get a pair of Avoxes out of the Capitol, it should be part of the plan that Mr. Pierce and Quinn drop by District 7 at least for a very short time to be able to talk to Brittany before going straight to whatever sanctuary Santana or Mike could find.
"I've just realized…" Mike's eyes widened with whatever thought crossed his mind, then he narrowed them and said, "Quinn. What if her life depends on me or you being this year's victor?"
That was such a good point, and Santana already knew the answer but she still couldn't help asking the question. "What makes you say that?"
"What other use would they have of her if we're gone?" Mike answered by asking another question. "The way they beat her last night, I'm sure it's enough to affect her work performance. What use do they have for an injured Avox?" Though the words sounded really harsh, especially coming from someone like Mike, Santana couldn't deny how much sense there was in that idea.
As long as Santana and Mike were alive, Quinn could be used as leverage just as much as Brittany.
"Well there's another reason for us to really try and fight to win tomorrow." It wasn't just about getting back home anymore, or being reunited with their loved ones. There was so much more at stake. Santana wouldn't just be fighting for Brittany tomorrow. Santana wouldn't just be fighting to keep herself alive. She would be fighting for Quinn and Mr. Pierce's sake, too. They needed help, and only Santana, Mike and Johanna knew they were alive and trapped.
Johanna might not be able to accomplish anything alone.
Santana and Mike would have to help.
Somehow.
Mike squeezed Santana's hand. "And whoever gets out, takes care of the other's family. Right?" Brittany and Amy were Santana's family and even Mike knew that.
"Right."
Tonight started with awkwardness, distance and tension between Santana and Mike. They didn't talk to each other after the interview and acted like nothing was wrong. Then the revelation of the source of Mike's bruises had them almost arguing with each other, taking out their own personal frustrations at each other.
Now, Santana felt close to Mike, and it surprised her how much he seemed to understand her.
Why couldn't they have been like this before the Reaping?
Maybe, if Santana had grown closer to Mike instead of Puck, things would have turned out differently.
"Mike?" Maybe things wouldn't have gotten passively-aggressively tense between Brittany and Puck if Santana had become good friends with Mike instead of make out buddies with Puck.
Still, despite how little they spoke to each other in the past few years, Santana felt close enough to Mike to ask for a favor. Something he could do for her if he turned out to be the one who came home. The idea of dying in the arena, of having Brittany watch that, of just disappearing… Santana shuddered.
Sensing that something important might be coming, Mike just watched Santana and waited for her to gather up the courage to continue.
Unfortunately, this was something Santana was so bad at handling, and she still didn't know whether or not she should. "If… If I don't get out and you do…" There was so much she still had to say to Brittany. So much she still had to apologize for. That interview wasn't enough, and it was so limited, and so tainted by the listening ears of people who shouldn't have even heard or seen any of that.
"Yeah?" Mike's tone was gentle, prompting Santana to go on.
"Could you…" Santana felt the words catch in her throat again. The same insecurities that always held her back every time she lost the nerve, they came rushing over her. They told her that whatever she had with Brittany couldn't possibly be the same as what Mike and Tina had. That after all the stress Santana put Brittany through over the years, how could she feel that way about Santana?
After everything, Santana couldn't possibly deserve Brittany. Especially after what the Peacekeepers did.
Even without the Capitol cameras hovering all around her, Santana still couldn't say it. Not even to Mike. Not even as a message he might have passed on to Brittany.
"Could you make sure Amy studies hard and stays in school?" Santana blurted out the first random thought that came to mind, just to at least save herself from going through the awkward situation of saying something like 'nevermind' and have Mike look at her and not believe her and wait for her to say it anyway.
At least with this particular sort-of request, Mike got to raise an eyebrow and smile a little. "Sure."
District 7. 68th Hunger Games.
"Tina, don't." Mike heard his own voice cracking with terror and desperation.
They were on what was probably the highest tree in the forest, and though Mike had done his best to climb up as fast as he could once he realized what was going, he was still several branches away from Tina.
"Tina, please come down." Mike begged while straightening up and wrapping his arms around the trunk. There were several scrapes along his skin from his hurried climb to catch up to Tina, but for now they didn't hurt and were fairly easy to ignore. What he couldn't ignore was the rapid, painful thumps of his heart against his chest and the trembling of his legs. "Tina, please."
The higher branches were a lot thinner, and as desperate as he was to reach Tina, Mike didn't want to try going further up just yet. No good would come to anyone if he misjudged the strength of a branch that actually couldn't support his weight. From this height, it was doubtful either of them might survive a fall.
"I'm done." Tina was crouching on a thin, dangerously flimsy branch that was already bending under her weight. Every tiny movement she made had the branch bobbing in a way that terrified Mike. "I'm tired, Mike. I don't see how anything can ever get any better, and I'm tired."
"Tina, please, I'm begging you." Mike stood on tiptoe, but it still wasn't enough for him to be able to reach up and grab Tina from here. He needed a higher branch. "Please climb down."
Her head turned to face him so fast that the branch bobbed again. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't just jump and get this over with."
"I need you." Mike blurted out the first reason that came to mind.
"You'll get over it." Tina rolled her eyes. "I mean don't you have a thing for Brittany anyway?"
"What?" The shock jolted Mike's body, and he would have lost his footing if he hadn't been hugging the trunk so tightly.
Tina's body was tensed like she was just about ready to jump, but at least for now she was still talking. "You've been spending a lot of time with her, haven't you?"
Adjusting his hold on the trunk, Mike tried to inch closer to Tina, but it still wasn't enough to reach out and grab her. He really needed to go up one or two more branches, and they hardly looked ready to hold his weight.
"We're practicing for the Victory Tour." And since when did those practices with Brittany become an issue?
Tina rolled her eyes. "And that's really all you're doing?"
"Tina, you know I choose you."
There might have been a very brief time in Mike's life when he might have considered dating Brittany, and there was that one dance when things got heated up enough that he did consider closing the distance between their faces.
But Mike didn't. He knew Brittany wasn't looking for anything like that, and she was busy with work and raising Amy and helping Mr. Lopez control Santana's temper. And Mike was pretty sure that if he tried anything inappropriate with Brittany, Santana would be out for blood.
When Tina still looked doubtful, Mike added, "Not Brittany. Not Santana. Not Quinn. You."
Tina was looking away again, and the way she was eyeing the ground far below was making Mike nervous. He tried again at getting her to talk to him and say what was bothering her. "Is that really the reason you're going to do this?"
"No." The answer came out so softly, Mike almost didn't hear it.
After taking a moment to quickly rifle through potential reasons Tina would want to do something as drastic as this, Mike remembered how much things changed when Mrs. Cohen-Chang's pregnancy became apparent.
"Is it because of Glenn?"
The baby was about two months old now, and from what Mike had seen in those months, Tina had been doing a pretty good job of helping her parents look after her baby brother.
Tina continued eyeing the ground and didn't confirm the theory.
She didn't deny it either.
"Your parents love you and your little brother equally." Mike wasn't sure if he had the right idea, but he tried anyway, and continued searching for a branch higher up that might not snap the moment he touched it. "You know that, don't you? His being part of your family's not gonna change-"
"You don't get it, Mike!" Tina's voice rose up into a screech, and again the branch under her bobbed dangerously.
"Then tell me!" The only thing Mike could do right now was keep Tina talking. There were moments when she would grow distant and sulky, and it took some prodding to get her to open up, but she usually looked a lot better after a good, long talk.
This had to be helping.
Right?
"Tina, come on." Mike managed to make eye contact with her. "Tell me."
"I know my parents still care about me, and I know they care about Glenn, too." There, Tina was talking, and the frustration was evident in her harsh tone. "I don't understand it and it makes me feel so damn trapped."
Tina broke away from the eye contact to look at the ground again. "Right now, I'm thinking about how hurt they'd be if I jumped. And that's stopping me and I hate it."
Mike just stared, not sure what to say, and terrified that Tina might actually jump. What were the chances of her surviving a fall from this high? She'd be lucky to just get out of it alive, and if she did, she'd probably break most of her bones. Hearing those bones snapping in his head made Mike cringe.
"I'm working so hard to help them take care of Glenn, and I hate how it's just to prepare him for a crappy life." Tina continued talking, her voice grew stronger the more she said. "I'm so freaking tired of feeling like this, and I keep thinking…" She leaned forward a little, bending the branch further. "What would it feel like to just jump right now?"
The hammering of his heart grew even faster. "Don't…"
"I'd feel all that wind blowing in my face… right before my body hits the ground." She looked at Mike again, meeting his eyes and scaring him with how much sadness was in them. "This high would be enough to finish me, right?"
"Tina, we need you." Even if Tina had just said that how needed she was made her feel trapped, Mike didn't know what else to say. Nothing he'd learned in school would have prepared him for something like this. "Your family needs you."
"I know…" This came out as more of a sigh than a shout. "And I'm scared I'm not going to be enough."
Tina started making her way up the branch, closer to the trunk. Mike could almost relax when she got closer, then the terror sped up his heartbeat again when Tina haphazardly swung towards a lower branch.
The sight of how she dangled robbed Mike of his breath. When Tina landed on a closer branch that bent under her weight but held, Mike felt his legs grow weak. They were much closer now, and he might be able to reach for her if she just stretched out a little.
Mike was still catching his breath when Tina continued talking. "Don't you hate the feeling, too?" At the unsure look he gave her, Tina let out a frustrated groan. "Like anything and everything we do is never going to be enough because there is always going to be the Hunger Games. There will always be Peacekeepers."
One of Tina's hands let go of the branch under her to brush her hair away from her face. The movement had the branch swaying and making sounds that scared Mike. He tensed and got ready to reach forward if it gave way.
"This is the only life we know and it's never going to change and there's nothing we can do about it." Tina sounded so angry and frustrated, "Doesn't that eat you up as much as it eats me up?"
"Well… it gets to me too sometimes, yes." Mike admitted, recalling how he felt before and after every Reaping. Seeing Matt Rutherford get reaped last year did really bother Mike for a while. They weren't that close, but they sometimes talked in school, and it felt so weird when his name was picked out and he never came back.
Tina was watching Mike, listening intently and waiting for him to continue.
"But I do what I can to get by…" Mike said, "And to look out for you." With how Tina's family was struggling to keep things together, Mike suspected that she would be putting her name in extra times this year. The Tessera would be a big help their family needed.
It scared him to imagine Tina's name being called out on Reaping Day.
"I feel so angry with my parents for bringing me into this world." Tina was agitated again, almost shouting, "For bringing Glenn into this world. What were they even thinking?" Getting carried away by her rant, Tina started moving more than was safe on a branch far from the ground. "I don't want this kind of life for Glenn."
Tina even started flailing as she spoke, and the branch continued to sway and bob. "I want to see him grow old and happy without ever having to be afraid of a stupid glass ball full of paper! I want-"
Mikes fears came true when the branch cracked and snapped with Tina's wild movements. She overbalanced and tipped forward. Without pausing to think, Mike lunged forward and grabbed a handful of her jacket while his other arm hooked onto another branch. The force of the impact of his arm against the branch sent shockwaves of pain up to his shoulder, but he held on.
Breathing rapidly, Mike felt like his heart would batter a hole right out of his chest. Under him, Tina dangled by her jacket, putting strain on every muscle in his body. Mike realized he was almost horizontal, with his arm clinging to one branch and his feet hooked onto the one he'd been standing on earlier.
"I am not letting you kill yourself over this." The panic made Mike's voice come out rough and almost angry.
Or maybe he was a little angry.
"If you let go I will kill you, Mike Chang!" Tina's voice came out several pitches higher as she swayed. Crossing her arms and keeping them close to her chest at least lessened the chances of her slipping out of the jacket to be sent plummeting to the ground.
"Wait, what?" Mike wasn't sure if he had understood what he'd just heard.
"J-just don't freaking let go." Tina actually whimpered, "I-I'm not r-ready!"
Sweat was dripping down Mike's face, and his muscles were trembling in protest, but he was relieved to know that Tina was at least acknowledging that she wasn't ready to do something so drastic.
"Tina…" Mike spoke through gritted teeth, still straining with Tina's weight and trying to figure out how to get out of this position. "Just… wait a second." His fingers, his entire hand was burning with the effort of clinging to the jacket, while his other arm trembled. He wasn't sure how long he could keep his ankles tense enough either, his feet could slip off the other branch at any moment.
The branch he was clutching right now felt relatively sturdy, and already it was holding the bulk of both their weights. Mike figured it would be enough, and if he could just lift Tina up enough, she would be able to reach it. "Grab this branch as soon as you can reach it." Talking was making it difficult to breathe properly and continue holding this position, but Mike spoke anyway. "The one I'm holding."
"Okay." Tina squeaked.
Grunting with the effort, Mike swayed his arm back then forward, and he felt like it was going to pop right out of its socket, but he kept going until the momentum was enough to swing Tina up towards the branch. She latched onto it immediately. Just the sight of that managed to bring forth another rush of relief. Mike took it as sign that Tina was willing to still cling to life. She really wasn't ready to give up just yet.
Scrambling up with a bit of pushing and pulling from Mike, Tina was able to get herself into a sitting position on the branch.
Finally without the added weight of Tina pulling his arms out of their sockets, Mike could breathe a lot easier. Though this position was by no means comfortable, and it still made his muscles tremble and burn, it didn't feel so bad after having to carry Tina just moments ago.
"Don't fall!" Tina crept closer and hugged his arm.
After sucking in a huge breath and bracing himself, Mike unhooked his feet from the previous branch, and dangled by one arm. Tina shrieked and tightened her grip on him, almost digging her nails into her skin.
Tensing his muscles, Mike managed to pull himself up to the branch with Tina's help until he was crouching next to her. The relief on her face eased some of the pain spreading over his body after that ordeal.
"About…" Remembering that they weren't quite finished talking, Mike worked to get his breath back and said, "I can't… I can't say it isn't hard here in District 7." Tina nodded but didn't comment. "And those shots of Capitol life they show us… on TV… those do make me jealous." And the way they showed clips of the victor enjoying feast upon feast during their victory tour sometimes irritated Mike, especially when he saw how much Brittany was struggling to feed her sister and herself.
"But you and I…" Mike continued, "We both have families to take care of. It's tough sometimes, and I can only imagine how hard it is for you… but that shouldn't be a reason to just give up, right?"
When Tina just shrugged, Mike went on, still spurred by the fact that Tina was listening and within his reach. "I mean look at Johanna Mason. When her name was reaped, nobody thought she'd make it out alive." It was something most of the district whispered to each other in the days after the Reaping. Johanna was one of the shorter, skinnier tributes and she kept crying almost every moment that she was on camera. "Now look where she is."
Johanna was probably one of the most respected people in the district now.
"Look at Santana and Brittany." Santana didn't quite have it as hard as Brittany, but Mike couldn't help but mention both in the same sentence because those two were always so inseparable. "Santana lost her mom two years ago. Britt lost both her parents when she was really young and she's pretty much raising Amy on her own. They manage to get by."
Tina nodded again.
"Puck takes care of his house and himself because his dad's rarely ever home."
"They're strong people." Tina said it in such an envious way, Mike had to reach for her and wrap an arm around her. His other hand remained clutching the branch under them, just in case.
"You're a strong person. You can get through this."
Tina looked at Mike, uncertain and still scared. "How can you be so sure?"
The branch was really bending under their weight, and Mike was still terrified that it was going to give way at any moment, but he hid that and spoke in as calm a voice as he could. "Because I know you. You're tough enough to get through this." Still fighting back the mounting nervousness, Mike leaned closer to Tina and kissed her.
Capitol. 72nd Hunger Games.
Miles and years away, Mike snuggled into his bed, his bruises eased by the medicine and his fears calmed for now. He barely knew what he was doing in that moment years ago, and it was hard to talk sensibly between the fear and panic pounding through him. But if he could get Tina to overcome her terrors and her urge to give up, he could tell himself the same thing. If Tina could get through the voices in her head and find the strength to disagree with them, then Mike could, too.
How could he tell someone not to give up when he himself had been doing that in the past few days?
Tomorrow would bring new fears and obstacles, and there was still a lot of doubt as to how possible it was for him to overcome them, but he knew that he at least had to try.
For his parents.
For Brittany.
For Santana.
For Quinn.
For Tina.
(Also, on a semi-important note, on a scale of 1 to 10 (with 10 being the highest), how much do you guys support our sister ship, Faberry?)