Noah curled up in his sleeping bag and curled around Estelle's coat as the sun went down. Thinking about Estelle, he smiled remembering their antics around the house and their days walking home from the Engineering Academy chatting about their classes and formulating plans on how to weasel the answers to their homework out of their parents. At some point, hiis reminiscing turned into dreams which were interrupted by the snap of a branch. Gasping, Noah sat up trembling. Gripping his knife, he reached for his night-vision glasses. Hands trembling, he slipped them over his eyes and looked at a rustling bush. "You're not - them." A fearful whisper breathed before a small girl stepped out from behind the bush. From her stature and bushy hair, Noah identified her as Rue from District Eleven.
"The Careers? No." Noah muttered as he re-sheathed his knife. "Um - did you need anything?" Shaking her head, Rue scampered away.
"That's my boy." Beetee whispered watching the exchange. "That's my sweet boy."
"Yes, but -" Wiress began sighing.
"He has to kill to come home to us." Beetee replied, his voice constricting. "I - I don't know if he can, baby, and - I want my boy to be innocent, but I want him to come -"
"Home." Tears streamed down Wiress' face. "He will." She said after a moment. "Like that." They watched as Noah built at trap near the riverbank that gently sloped down to the water. Wiress smiled listening to her son hum a tune as he worked. "Bed, sweetie." As if Noah was coaxed back to bed by his mother humming a lullaby from the mentor room, he returned to his sleeping bag and snuggled against Estelle's jacket.
"You had to invent something before you went to bed, didn't you, buddy." Beetee remarked knowing tinkering with inventions in the middle of the night after a nightmare or being startled was a Tesla trait.
The Teslas were listless as they watched their son wander the arena the next day. Every so often, he would build a trap. A squirrel was his first victim as well as his first meal in the arena. "My lunch has boogers!" Noah quipped as he shoved a blade of grass up the dead squirrel's nose.
"Just eat it, my silly boy." Beetee chuckled as Wiress shook her head. As Noah lay down for the second night in the arena, Wiress yawned. "Hon, I can take the night watch. You sleep."
"Beetee - what - if -" Wiress stammered as her large eyes teared up once more.
"I'll get you if I think our boy needs help, baby." Nodding, Wiress headed back to the District Three compartment. As she lay on two cots pushed together, sobs racked her body. Pressing her face into Beetee's pillow, she remembered how Estelle felt next to her as all four Teslas slept in the master bedroom in the District Three suite. "Wiress, honey -"
"Beetee - " Sitting on the edge of the bed, Beetee stroked Wiress' hair.
"Finnick's watching the screen for us. His girl is with the Careers." Beetee explained. "I - I figured I was needed in here -" His voice broke as he lay down and didn't feel his son next to him. "Oh, Wiress -"
"Strong - " Wiress whispered after a while. "We need -"
"Wiress, you are being strong. You're watching our son. We are not giving up on him. We're being strong for him - please believe that, honey." Whispering reassurances as much to himself as to his wife, Beetee drifted into a fitful sleep where dreams of his children safe at home or at the Engineering Academy were a brief reprieve from his grief.
Mags woke the Teslas the next morning. Sitting on the side of the bed, she offered the couple a plate of muffins. "No - I'm not -" Wiress muttered. Humming sadly, Mags pressed a muffin into Wiress' palm.
"You need to eat for strength." Finnick said in the doorway.
"I'm - I -" Sitting up, Wiress sobbed as Mags rubbed her back. "You - understand." Gazing into sea-green eyes lined with sorrow, Wiress nodded and hugged the frail woman. Slowly, Wiress ate her muffin with Beetee following suit.
"Let's see what our boy has planned for today." Beetee said simply before he and his wife took their seats at their mentor station. Like his parents in their games, Noah found a routine and a way of going about life in the arena. Wiress smiled as Noah peered around a tree before squeezing himself between the tree and the bush.
"Oooh, I'm hiding behind a tree! I'm hiding behind a tree! So Panem doesn't see me pee!" Snorting down laughter, Beetee watched the screen switch to a map of the arena with dots indicating the locations of the other tributes. To his relief, Noah was at least a mile away from the nearest tribute.
"Himself." Wiress whispered smiling.
"He's staying himself, yes." Beetee chuckled watching his son attempt to climb a tree.
"Wooo hooo!" Noah cheered as he grasped a branch of a tree so he was hanging two feet off the air. He swung himself before anchoring his feet to the trunk of the tree. He climbed to a thick branch where he could look out at the arena. A nod indicated that the coast was clear before he swung from his branch making monkey noises before landing on his feet on the ground. Picking up his things, he made his way toward a small valley to make camp.
"Your boy plays around in there, huh." Wiress jumped at the observer's voice before staring into Seeder's eyes. "My Rue spends half her time in those trees. Kids will always be kids, ya know?"
"Yeah." Beetee agreed. "That's my boy."
"Sweet." Wiress added. Seeder nodded.
"I don't want my baby girl to kill anyone." Seeder sighed. "I know you don't want your boy to either." Sighing heavily, Wiress looked into Seeder's wise face.
"No - I want - If - he stays just like he is -" Wiress gulped before drawing a shaky breath. "If he can win without -"
"Direct kills." Beetee added. "Like my wife did so many years ago, that would be ideal." Seeder nodded.
"Today's Day Three." Seeder said quietly to the Teslas. "I know about the sponsor deal. Your boy can make it. He has both your smarts and determination.
"Thank you." Beetee whispered as his wife took Seeder's hands in hers and grasped them warmly. As he watched his son sleep, Beetee smiled knowing his son was doing better than anyone had expected.
"Stay." Wiress whispered as a flash of fear crossed her face after the national anthem played at sunset. Instincts from years of mentoring as well as her own maternal instincts told her to watch her son. "Beetee -" Reluctantly, Beetee switched his tablet to a map of the arena showing various pods. At eleven o'clock pm, one began blinking. "Our boy -" Wiress whispered as tears choked her words. Watching her son sleep peacefully, she willed him to move before he rolled over in his sleep.
"Oh - Oh Snow," Beetee gasped. "They're coming after him - they're coming after our boy."