Notes: Lol, seriously, Elsie Dee is the best and we love her and there should be more of her ruling the world always and forever.
Chapter 34: "You Can't Take it Back"
Morning of July 15: Day Nine of the Games
In the Arena
Bucky was still shaken from having had to kill Betsy. He'd never expected it to be that quick. Or that he could do it and not completely lose it afterward.
But he was keeping in mind what happened when there were no deaths, and he didn't want to wait for that to be the case again. So before much time had passed, he was out searching for tributes to kill so he could simply… go home. His internal headcount wasn't great for remembering who was left, but he knew that there were a lot fewer tributes to deal with than there had been a few days ago, and he was well aware that the freaky chick from Ten was still skulking around. At least that much was for sure.
Ahead of him, in the shadows, he saw movement … a head moving, but he had no idea who it might be creeping along so slowly. There was no way to tell in the low light, but he knew Ten had been moving almost exclusively in the shadows, so there was a solid chance that it was the creepy girl.
He waited until whoever it was strayed close enough that he'd be able to run her through, and with his jaw locked and solid determination in his gaze, he gripped Betsy's sword in his hand. He was prepared to avenge his one time rescuer — ready to stick her and run, well aware that she was just like the other Tens from years previous: dangerous even while dying.
He struck without double-checking his quarry the instant she turned the corner. So Bucky was all the more taken aback when he realized that the girl that he'd skewered wasn't the girl from Ten — but the one he'd stopped Brock Rumlow from attacking earlier, the one from Nine who had seen her partner off that first morning on a transport.
He might have been looking for someone to kill, but her?
He realized his mistake too late, though, and both of them locked gazes with wide eyes as Bucky's sword deflected off of the edge of one of her ribs, finding purchase in the small bit of flesh between them and kept sliding through, the momentum of his motion only slowed by his hesitation, not stopped entirely.
Kitty's sword clattered to the ground and she looked up at him in disbelief, but she didn't have anything to say at all before Bucky quickly withdrew the sword, stammering to apologize to her somehow. It was just that much more miserable when Kitty collapsed to her knees and Bucky went right with her, trying to fix what he'd done, trying to stop the bleeding as his hands shook and he simply panicked.
"I'm sorry… I didn't … I didn't know it was you," he said with a tremor in his voice. "I never would have … Not you."
She stared at him, not understanding in the least what he was talking about, and Bucky didn't get the chance to try and explain himself any better when something fast and sharp went flying toward him. He didn't duck, but it still missed him and a throwing star embedded itself in the sandy rock face behind him.
He glanced up toward where the star had come from to see that the little boy from Eleven was there, open-mouthed and slightly shaking. The girl from Twelve cleared the ridge just behind him, taking in the scene in a heartbeat before she simply charged toward Bucky, clearing meaning to take his head off with her bare hands.
Bucky stumbled back away from her, one arm outstretched to Kitty and clearly trying to apologize — to explain .. and in the moment of hesitation, Miles managed to hit his mark with a throwing star. An instant later, though the star wasn't in a terribly vital area, Bucky was beside himself in agony — again.
"Venom blast, dude!" Miles called his way. "That'll teach you to mess with Team Spideys."
Bucky knew that if he didn't get moving — that was it. Twelve's girl would finish him off, and she didn't look like she'd be nice about it, either. So, half clutching his arm where Miles had hit him, he pushed back the desire to scream and poured all of the energy he had left in him into turning tail and running.
"Coward!" America spat after him, though she wasn't about to go anywhere when Kitty was dying.
Kitty, meanwhile, was quietly gasping where she was crumpled on the ground, her hands covered in blood and her breaths coming harder with every passing second.
Miles stared at her, wide-eyed, suddenly unable to take another step closer as America knelt down beside Kitty, wincing when she saw the wound and full well aware she wouldn't be able to help her. "Sorry, pretty kitty," she said quietly. "Guess we didn't catch up to you fast enough."
"It's okay," she said, shaking her head lightly. "It'll be okay."
America watched Kitty's breaths come in, her heart catching in her throat for a moment as she forced herself to stay there, no matter how badly she wanted to catch up to that Five boy. She wasn't sure Kitty could hear her after her eyes drifted closed, so she just leaned on the rock beside her and held her hand.
"Betcha I'd have wowed the pants off of you if I'd taken you on a date outside this crummy desert," she told Kitty. But of course, there was no response, and after a moment, the cannon echoed further off.
Miles was pacing in a panic as he watched America, who had her eyes closed and her head tilted back as it was clear she was trying to get a hold of herself, and when America did look his way, it was with such a fierce expression that Miles took a step back.
"Don't you die on me, Miles Morales," she ordered him as she got to her feet. "So help me, one of the people on this team is getting out of this alive."
Tahiti Wing
The room was deathly silent as the screen showed the blue image of Kitty's face and the Marvel anthem played for another tribute's death. It seemed to add insult to injury, then, that Bucky's was the last family interview. The footage switched from America and Miles next to Kitty's unmoving form to Bucky's little sister extolling his virtues and how nice he was — how he always tried to take care of people.
It was like whiplash for most of the kids watching, most of all for Kurt, who was blankly staring at the screen with wide eyes. There hadn't been any warning at all, no buildup of focus on Team Awesome 2.0 or anything like that — just a harsh switch from interviews to Bucky stalking up on Kitty. And Kurt was still reeling from it.
Steve was just as quiet, though for an entirely different reason. He was upset on Kitty's behalf, of course, but that was his best friend they were talking about, and it was clear Bucky hadn't meant to kill Kitty. It was too familiar to Steve, watching Bucky try to apologize for killing an innocent girl — and it wasn't lost on him that Kate kept glancing his way with an almost accusatory glare. They'd learned to work together sure, but some things, like being murdered … they were harder to forgive and forget — and even harder when there was such a raw reminder right there on the screen.
Steve hadn't noticed Ororo come to sit next to him until she'd rested a hand on his arm, and when he glanced up at her, she gave him a tired smile. "You two are way too much alike. Is that your fault or his?" she asked him, and he had to smile, recognizing the clear attempt to get his mind off of the others in the room for what it was.
But Steve has been momentarily struck dumb, unable to put to words what he was feeling or thinking about the whole fiasco. She watched him for a moment before she gave him a quick sideways hug and stayed right there — partly as a shield. It was much harder to see Kate and Kurt — and their looks of accusation and devastation, respectively — when Ororo's head was on his shoulder and the hair, which she was now wearing styled in a mohawk, was in his line of sight if he turned that way.
"I want to fix this," Steve said quietly when he finally got his vocal feet back underneath him.
"How?" Ororo asked him.
"I don't know," Steve said, shaking his head lightly. "But I have to find a way."
"You're not responsible for what happens in the Games. This one or the one before," she pointed out. "You already know that." When he continued to stare at her, and then at the interview still playing on the screen, she let out a sigh and pulled him into a big hug. "You're sweet to try though, even if you're an idiot for it."
Kate, in the meantime, had leaned over to where Kurt was still staring at the screen to gently place both hands over his. "If you want to go next door… I'm sure Pete has room," she offered gently. "Or we can go kick in Coulson's office and demand to see the Tahiti list. I'm up for whatever you want to do." She didn't really wait for him to respond, though, as it was clear he didn't know how to react yet.
And in lieu of any kind of reaction, Kate gently pulled him to his feet to walk him to the rec room, where Peter looked just as upset on Kurt's behalf as she felt.
Not a word was spoken between the three kids as Peter made a space for them, and both Kate and Peter leaned in on either side of Kurt as the last of the family interviews ended and the coverage turned back to the Games and the arena.
In the Arena
The Seven alliance had finally found a nice little spot of shade to rest in after a long, hot trek with little in the way of protection. The girls had sat down on opposite ends of their hideaway, and Clara simply leaned back against the wall of rock with her eyes closed.
"I know I keep saying it, but I was so not made for this kind of country," Clara said quietly. "How are you two holding up?"
"I'm okay," Kamala said, though Scott seemed to be of the same opinion as Clara as he leaned against the wall as well.
"I could keep going if you want to sleep first," he said, rolling his head to look her way.
"I just want to cool off, which I know is not going to happen," Clara replied. She drew her hand across her forehead and pulled a face at the mixture of sweat and dust. "I hate this color."
"Which color, red?" Scott asked with just the slightest of smirks. "Yeah, you must be real tired of it."
Clara couldn't help but smirk at him. "More a brick type color," she replied. "I'm kind of attached to ruby."
"Not as much as I am at the moment," he replied.
"You think," Clara said with her eyes closed as she slid down the wall a bit.
"Alright, Mom, Dad, I'm not shopping for a little sibling right now," Kamala mumbled, and Scott stared her way with his mouth slightly open as Clara chuckled quietly at her.
"We're not…" Scott stammered.
"Uh-huh," Kamala said tiredly. She was already stretching out and ready to sleep the hot day away — since there had already been a cannon earlier and they didn't have to worry about finding someone before sundown.
"It's okay, Scott," Clara said with a little smile. "She knows. She's just picking on you."
"You've corrupted that sweet kid," he accused her, though there really wasn't any weight to his tone.
"But she's such a quick study," Clara countered.
"No one's corrupting anybody; I'm tired, and your flirting is keeping me awake," Kamala said without even opening her eyes or glancing at them — smirking hard the whole time.
"Sorry," Clara said. "We'll try to keep the noise down for you. Wouldn't want you corrupted any further." She was smirking to herself mostly because she didn't even need to look Scott's way to know that he was giving her a disapproving look as she tried to settle in for a cat nap of her own.
Scott was on watch while the girls slept, and it was quiet and peaceful for about an hour until, very suddenly, Kamala let out a yelp of surprise.
Not one of them had seen the opening further back in the wall of the rocks around them; it was well-hidden and half-filled with water. But both Clara and Scott saw it now; they both caught sight of Kamala's wide eyes as someone dragged her back into the shadows.
Clara scrambled to her feet and rushed toward Kamala, shouting for the girl from Ten to let her friend go, and although Yuriko did not move at first, she quickly dropped Kamala when Clara managed to slip around Yuriko's back and grab one of her arms in her claws, shredding open Yuriko's shoulder.
Clara heard Kamala crying more out of terror than anything else as Scott pulled Kamala away and tried to get her to calm down. He was simply trying to look her over and make sure she wasn't badly hurt as Clara dealt with the threat, and as soon as Clara was sure that the little girl was out of the way, the blonde brawler let loose.
Even though she'd hurt Yuriko, it wasn't as if Clara was going into the fight in perfect condition. The injured and bandaged arm was easy enough to spot.
The two girls squared off, circling each other at first — and the look of pure loathing and rage was plain enough to see on Clara's face. For the first time, her two allies could finally really see the family resemblance an instant before Clara attacked again.
She didn't care what Yuriko had to say, or what her excuses were on why out of the three of them, she'd chosen to pick the smallest of the group. It didn't matter. The girl was a coward, and Clara simply wouldn't stand for it.
But Yuriko wasn't unarmed, and as Clara rushed her, she raised her blade and slid it just below Clara's ribs on her left side. But to Yuriko's horror, Clara didn't seem to notice much at that moment and kept coming at her with a snarl. Clara slashed down and tore open four deep gashes across Yuriko's face, going both ways, before she spun and kicked her in the stomach.
The blonde was relentless, ignoring her own injuries in favor of tearing into the monster that had attacked her little friend. As Yuriko realized the massive mistake she'd made, Clara managed to land a few more strikes — though they were mostly superficial — before the girl from Ten simply poured on as much speed as she could manage, kicking Clara away to gain more distance as she tried to escape, slipping off into the shadows in the desert rocks faster than Clara could keep up.
It wasn't until Clara stumbled in her chase that her friends realized that there was a big problem.
"Leave her!" Scott shouted after Clara. He glanced at Kamala to make sure she would be okay if he left her for a moment and then ran after Clara himself in case she kept trying to run anyway — it wouldn't be the first time she ignored him, anyhow. When he did catch up to her where she'd stumbled, he crouched down beside her to offer his shoulder to her. "How bad?" he asked when he saw the blood.
"It … doesn't look horrible," she said as she looked down at her wound.
"How much is yours?" he couldn't help but ask, since she'd gotten in some good, solid hits on Yuriko, and the evidence was plain to see.
She shook her head and pulled her shirt up a bit before she shook her head at the mix of sand, blood, and sweat there. "More than I'd like," she replied.
"Yeah," Scott said, his mouth going dry as he helped her stand. Once he'd gotten an idea of where she'd been stabbed, the blood that was hers was easier to differentiate. The large, deeply soaked spot from her ribs to her hip … that was all Clara.
"Maybe some shade would be a good idea," she suggested.
"Yeah," he agreed quickly before he picked her up, deciding it would be better to just do it instead of asking.
"You don't have to do that," Clara told him.
"Uh-huh." He headed right back to where they'd left Kamala without slowing in the least. "Just humor me."
"I didn't say I didn't approve; I just said you didn't have to," Clara said quietly.
He shook his head at her. "You're bleeding, and I doubt it's superficial. Why would I make you walk back on your own?" he pointed out, and she, surprisingly, didn't have an argument against that.
When they got back to where they'd camped out, Kamala met them with wide eyes and as much scrap material as she had been able to gather in that short time. She had a red spot on her shirt from where she was dripping blood from the long cut along her jaw Yuriko had left her. But aside from that, she looked fine — just scared out of her mind.
"We've got, maybe, a quarter of a water bottle?" Kamala offered. "She can have it — we can find more."
"I'm not thirsty," Clara said quickly. "Just … hang on to that."
"Okay, well… I brought…. I can try to find something else?" Kamala offered, pressing cloth to Clara's stomach in an attempt to stop the bleeding she could see even as Scott tore through the pack that had carried their medical supplies.
"You had to use it up on me," he muttered under his breath, not really expecting an answer as he kept digging.
Clara laid back on the rocks, glancing his way as she tried to look at the cut, which, to her surprise, didn't seem to be doing more than barely oozing. "It's not really bleeding much," Clara said before she let out a breath and started to relax a little. "You can see for yourself."
Kamala looked over her shoulder at Clara's bared midriff and tipped her head to the side, letting out a little sigh of relief. "Oh. Oh good."
Clara gave her a little smile and bunched up her windbreaker to use as a pillow. "I'm sorry I missed seeing her," she told Kamala. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," Kamala assured her, though she did take the cloth bandage that Scott pressed into her anyway to hold up under her chin. "You, um, redirected the knife," she added. "So my head's intact… thanks."
"She must have gotten here before we did. I should have checked it out better," Scott said with a frown in a tone that clearly sang out how frustrated he was with himself.
"You and me both," Clara said softly. "Not to worry; I think it'll be fine."
"Still, being stabbed can't feel good. You sure you're okay?" Kamala asked.
Clara let out a sigh and turned her head Kamala's way. "Dizzy, sure. And I'm tired."
Scott frowned at that. "Probably not a good idea to fall asleep until we know how bad it is."
"You don't need to worry about me," Clara told him, her meter slow and even. "It's probably the adrenaline crash."
"Well, I'm going to do it anyway," he told her. "Humor me."
"Okay, okay," she replied, though it looked as though her lids were heavy. "Keep me awake if you have to."
"Alright… how?" Scott asked. "I'm not much for talking."
"I don't know, fearless," she replied with a tiny smile. "But if you don't want me to go to sleep, you gotta make it attractive."
"O...kay." Scott sat down beside her and glanced down at her stomach. Even through the ruby lenses, he could see that she wasn't looking good, even if she wasn't bleeding. While her face was getting progressively paler, her torso was starting to turn a darker collection of colors. He'd seen cutters come into town back in Seven with injuries that looked like that — and he knew where it was headed.
He swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly drier. "How about ... I don't know. I can tell you something about back home, but you live there, too, and I've got nothing special to… maybe Kamala can…." He rubbed the back of his neck.
"Tell me what you miss, Scott," Clara said. "What do you miss most while we're stuck in this miserable hell hole?"
He leaned back so his head was resting against the wall above hers. "Not sure. The kids, maybe. Or carving." He nodded to himself. "Carving, yeah. Peace and quiet and detail work until it's time to go home from the day's work." He saw Kamala settle in on Clara's other side, her eyes wide, but when she glanced up at him, he shook his head the slightest bit, hoping she got the message.
"Who're the kids?" Kamala asked quietly.
"No names," Clara said softly. "Don't give names."
"From the orphanage, Kamala," Scott explained. "They're good kids. Smart, too." He glanced at Clara and let out his breath, trying to work out how best to talk her through. He went through most of the kids back home — no names, no descriptors that would give it away, just… stories. It was much easier than talking about himself, and he actually liked to talk up those kids. They'd be great someday, if they could only make it to adulthood.
"Hey," Kamala said suddenly, tapping Clara's arm. "Hey, stay awake. This is the most Scott's said in the history of ever, and you're missing it."
"It's okay," she said, though she sounded very sleepy and she wasn't opening her eyes. "He has a nice voice. I like it."
"But ... you're…" Kamala stammered through the words, trying to find something to say.
Scott glanced at her for a moment, glad for the first time that the glasses hid his expression so he could pull off a convincing comforting look — or what he hoped was one anyway in spite of the fact that his chest hurt watching Clara fade. With one hand on her shoulder, he waited until Clara stopped breathing and the cannon went off. And when Kamala choked on a sob, he let her bury her face in his shoulder until she was done, not even moving until after he heard the whine of the transport that came for Clara.
"We have to move now," he told Kamala quietly. "Someone might have followed the transport."
24. Monet St. Croix, District Eleven Female, Killed by Arkady Gregorovitch
23. Jessica Jones, District Five Female - Killed by Zebediah Kilgrave
22. Skurge, District Four Male - Killed by Clara Creed
21. Brian Braddock, District Two Male - Killed by Giuletta Nefaria
20. Giuletta Nefaria, District Three Female - Killed by Elizabeth Braddock
19. Alex Summers, District Nine Male - Killed by Brock Rumlow
18. Brock Rumlow, District Six Male - Killed by James Barnes
17. Arkady Gregorovitch, District Ten Male - Killed by Remy LeBeau
16. Amora, District Four Female - Killed by Clara Creed
15. Gwen Stacy, District Eight Female - Killed by a long fall
14. Zebediah Kilgrave, District One Male - Killed by Yuriko Oyama
13. Remy LeBeau, District Eight Male - Killed by Gamemakers' mutts
12. Trevor Slattery, District Three Male - Killed by America Chavez
11. Billy Kaplan, District Twelve Male - Killed by Gamemaker poison
10. Elizabeth Braddock, District Two Female - Killed by Yuriko Oyama
9. Jean Gray, District One Female - Killed by Scott Summers
8. Kitty Pryde, District Eight Female - Killed by James Barnes
7. Clara Creed, District Seven Female - Killed by Yuriko Oyama
