Beta-read by gkmoberg1 & sydneylouwho
Do I wanna Know by Arctic Monkeys
Have you got color in your cheeks?
Do you ever get that fear that you can't shift
The type that sticks around like something in your teeth?
Are there some aces up your sleeve?
Have you no idea that you're in deep?
Chapter 13
Crystal clear blue waves crashed against the rocky shore – the sounds of the surf, gulls, and the smell of sea-water filled the room. Winnow lay on her bed – head resting on the pillow with her arms folded beneath it.
It was the night before the Games truly began and Winnow couldn't sleep. It was funny, she thought. She had thought she was so ready – so unafraid. But she couldn't catch even an hour of sleep.
She had just discovered the wall's ability to change the view – and had predictably settled on the image that most reminded her of home. Up until a week ago, the ocean had never been farther than a short walk. Now it felt so very far away.
A heavy feeling of dread had settled over her and pervaded her very skin. She knew this feeling. Winnow had felt it before.
She had slowly come to the conclusion that she wanted to survive. Winnow wanted to see that ocean – the real ocean again. She wanted to go home.
The door to her rooms slid open with an electronic whirring noise. She didn't bother to raise her head to see who had entered – she was already certain. And just as she had expected – Finnick's form crossed her line of vision, his head ducking down to see whether she was sleeping.
"Hey, little Minnow," Finnick greeted – glancing from her to the screen. "Have you slept at all?" he asked, planting his hands on the bed and making the mattress dip.
Winnow shook her head. "No," she answered. "I'm so tired, Finnick, but wide awake," she complained – her gaze finally flickering from the screen to him.
The mentor let out a sigh – before crawling onto the bed. He settled behind her, putting his arms around the teenager. "I couldn't sleep a wink the night before my games started either," Finnick admitted. "But you should try and get some sleep, Winnow. You have so much more than I did when I went in," he suggested.
"I've been trying, Finnick." Winnow says quietly – there is clear irritation in her voice. It wasn't like the thought hadn't occurred to her. The moment Artemisia had left – hours ago – when Winnow was fresh and clean, she had tried to go to sleep. Clearly it hadn't worked.
Finnick nestled in close to her, wrapping his arms around her securely in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. "Try again." He requested softly.
Obediently, Winnow let her eyes fall shut – quickly finding there was no heaviness to her lids that signified drowsiness. "Finnick?" she said.
"Yes?"
"How do you live with it?" Winnow asked.
Finnick shifted and listened to the gentle crash of the surf and watched the change of light thrown across the ceiling above. "Live with what?" he questioned in response. He wasn't sure he wanted to know what his tribute was really asking – because if he did, he would have to answer her. And he didn't want to give her anything else to make her lie awake at night.
"Killing innocent people."
Finnick heaved a sigh. "I don't, Winnow." He replied flatly.
"What?" she questioned – turning over to face him.
Her pale blue eyes searched his – begging for a real answer – eliciting another sigh from him. "I don't live with it, Winnow. Killing innocent people…it costs everything that you are," he explained.
Winnow's brows furrowed as if she didn't quite understand what he meant. "I have nightmares, Winnow. Every single night. Of the people I've killed." Finnick admitted. Understanding dawned on the teenager's features – she reached over and rested her hand on Finnick's arm as a gesture of camaraderie. "I wake up…and find there is no relief upon waking." He continued, lifting his eyes to meet hers.
"That is what it means to live with killing innocent people, Winnow." He murmured.
Her lips pursed – obviously deep in thought as she regarded her mentor. After a few moments of silence, Winnow burrowed closer to Finnick – laying her head on his chest like a child. "What am I supposed to do in there, Finnick?" she asked. Her tone was light – vulnerable, like the child she really was – rather than the strong young woman she tried so hard to portray.
"Survive." He uttered into her ear simply, arms tightening around her.
"But if I don't-"
Finnick squeezed her hard. "No. Survive." He cut her off, harshly. "If not for yourself, do it for me. For Mags, for Pyrrhus, for Artemisia. For everyone you've lost, Winnow. They'd want you to survive." He ordered her, punctuating each name with a squeeze.
Winnow didn't reply – merely closing her eyes against the fabric of Finnick's shirt. To return to that ocean, she thought, I will have to kill. She listened to the steady thump, thump of his heart and slowly fell asleep.
When she woke, Finnick was still beside her, snoring. Winnow sat up slowly – looking down at her mentor and her brother, she supposed. She felt warm as she looked at him - and she hadn't felt that way since Genna was still alive. Winnow decided she would miss him most of all. But, she supposed, it wouldn't be him that left her. It would be her that left him. She wouldn't get to miss him, he would have to miss her.
Winnow glanced at the clock and then turned to shake Finnick's shoulder. His eyes flew open and his hand caught her wrist in a tight vise. "Finnick!" she uttered in protest. He dropped her wrist like it had burned him – hands dropping to rub at his eyes.
"I'm sorry." He said quietly.
"It's okay." Winnow said, gently touching his arm.
"No, it's not." Finnick muttered. He sat up and rolled off the bed. "Take a shower and get dressed, then come and try and eat some breakfast." He said as he stepped towards the door – leaving without looking at her.
Winnow sighed, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. It was far too early for this shit, and as much as Winnow wanted to – now was not the time to worry about Finnick. It was time for her to worry about herself.
She slipped out of bed and headed for the shower – spending only a few minutes under the spray before emerging and finding clothing laid out on the bed for her. Pyrrhus' work, most likely. Winnow stepped into the clothing quickly – not bothering to glance at herself until she was done.
The uniform she would be wearing into the arena consisted of a light blue cotton v-neck shirt, a pair of loose, olive green cargo pants that tucked into a pair of leather boots with narrow, grippy soles. Still lying on the bed was a brown leather belt that Winnow put on after tucking the shirt into the pants.
Judging by the attire, Winnow was able to make a wild guess that the terrain of the arena would do nothing to suit Winnow's preference to water. With a sigh, the tribute left her rooms for the last time and joined the others at the breakfast table. There she was greeted uneasily by the others, who all seemed queasy and unable to eat. As a matter of fact, the only person who seemed to have no problem eating was Pyrrhus – though even he was eating more slowly this morning.
Winnow poured herself a glass of orange juice and did not bother to even put anything on her plate. She knew full-well she would not be able to keep anything down with the nervous nauseous feeling at the pit of her stomach.
Finnick and Mags sipped coffee and orange juice, and their faces creased with worry. Kai's plate was heaped full, but he barely seemed to have eaten even an eighth of it all. He would take a bite – turn green quite briefly and struggle to keep the food down – only to try again.
After ten minutes of pretending to try to eat, Winnow left the table and sat on one of the couches – laying her head back on the plush fabric and closing her eyes. A few minutes later found someone settling beside her. She glanced to her side to see her district partner sitting there – nerves quite obvious as he wrung his hands together.
"How are you doing, Kai?" she asked.
"I'm nervous." he admitted.
"Me too." Winnow responded. "Would a plan make you feel better?" she suggested with a small smile curving her lips. Kai turned a grin towards her, nodding. "Okay," she said, taking a moment to think.
"I'll be fighting in the bloodbath, so I can't watch you. I want you to hide – and then come out to join us when the bloodbath is over." She told him. After a moment's hesitation, he nodded. "Stay close, but out of sight. The Careers know you're going to join us, so there should be no danger there." Winnow added.
"Okay." Kai agreed. "Thanks, Winnow." The girl merely smiled at him in response – and the lanky boy pulled her into an unexpected hug.
"Kai, Winnow – it's time to go." Pyrrhus announced. The two teenagers separated, glancing back to their sober escort. Mags and Finnick stood beside him, still and silent. When the two didn't move – were reluctant to move – Pyrrhus gestured to them. "Come on, get up. I need to hug both of you properly!" the flame-haired man ordered them.
Slowly both Kai and Winnow rose – Kai going to Pyrrhus while Winnow went to Mags. The old woman pulled the dark-haired girl in a surprisingly strong embrace – a motherly embrace – that Winnow felt was over far too soon. "I hope I'll see you soon." She said quietly. Mags held a hand over her heart and mouthed the same words back to her.
Kai and Finnick were trading a few words when Winnow drew away from Mags and turned to Pyrrhus. "I need to talk to you," she tells her escort lowly. The flame-haired man nodded at once, drawing her away from the others.
Pyrrhus immediately pulled her into a hug. "What is it?" he asked, drawing back just a little to be able to look at her.
"If…I don't come out, my things…what little I have, I want you and Finnick to have." Winnow remarked - a little hiccup marring her calm façade.
"Please don't say things like that, Winnow. I want you to be positive," Pyrrhus said – his dark eyes misting with tears.
"But I have to say this, Pyrrhus. Finnick won't let me." She responded. "You two - you and Finnick are my family now. And if I don't come out, I want you two to have what little I do." Winnow requested.
"Alright," Pyrrhus said reluctantly. Again, the man pulled her into an embrace.
Then Finnick was there – telling her they had to go, and pulling her in the direction of the elevator. Passively, Winnow went along – her mind curiously blank as the elevator rose towards the roof. She wondered briefly where Kai and Mays were, and then remembered a snippet of discussion at breakfast. Mags would be escorting Kai to his hovercraft - a different one than her own, she supposed.
The mentor took her hand in his – quickly beginning to recite as many tips as he could before Winnow would have to board the hovercraft. "Do whatever you have to do, Winnow. Get a weapon fast and defend yourself. Don't hesitate. Your life is more important than theirs." He told her.
"Who are you to decide that?" Winnow asked quietly. It wasn't that she doubted him. It was that a significant amount of fear, dread and anticipation were combining to form an empty sensation of defeat. At this exact moment - Winnow didn't have an ounce of fight in her. She was just physically, emotionally and intellectually drained.
Finnick's jaw worked, his lips tightening into a thin line. "Someone who cares about you, Winnow." He responded. "The others…are regrettable, but it's you who I want to win." He added.
"What about Kai?" she said hesitantly.
Finnick hesitated, raising a hand to massage his forehead where a migraine was no doubt forming due to Winnow's constant questioning. "It's you who has the better chance of survival in the arena, and outside it – not Kai." He explained.
"Is that the only reason you allowed yourself to get close to me, Finnick? Because you think I have an actual chance of survival?" Winnow questioned. She didn't know how she felt about the notion – not exactly, she just knew it made her stomach twist uncomfortably.
"Just shut up, Winnow. Shut up and survive." Finnick ordered – taking a firm hold of her arm. He refused to let go until Winnow nodded to him. "Now go. They're going to force you on if you don't go willingly," he uttered, nodding to the Peacekeepers who observed them carefully.
Winnow nodded – turning towards the hovercraft, only for Finnick's hand to catch hers. He tugged her back into a final embrace – squeezing her so tightly she could not breathe. "Survive," he hissed into her ear before righting her back on the path towards the hovercraft with a jerky movement.
She nodded again without looking at him and stepped towards the hovercraft. A woman stood at the bottom of the hovercraft's ramp. "District 4 female." She said into a radio device before nodding to Winnow.
The dark-haired girl took slow, measured steps onto the hovercraft – being pointed to a seat by another busy Capitolian woman. Winnow settled into the seat without argument and glanced around to see Cato almost directly opposite her. He sent a half-smile in her direction and she nodded in response.
The second Capitolian woman Winnow had seen was moving from tribute to tribute, sticking something into their arms. The girl from 12 – Fire Bitch – Winnow thought, wouldn't let the woman inject her with tracker until the she told her what it was.
Winnow snorted – glaring at 12 even as the Capitolian woman administered the tracker to Winnow – reacting with nary a wince. Katniss did not seem to be affected, so Winnow rolled her eyes and shifted her gaze to Cato.
Her finger traced the slight raised skin of where the tracker had been injected. Cato gestured to his neck with a questioning expression – inquiring as to the location of the token he had given her. Winnow shrugged. He narrowed his eyes at her – showing disapproval that she didn't know – but she only shrugged again.
Artemisia had taken it the night before after getting her all cleaned up. She had muttered something about getting it back to Winnow - but the tribute had not seen her yet and she did not know how to communicate this to Cato without actually speaking.
Once all of the tributes on the hovercraft had gotten their trackers injected, the hovercraft lifted off the ground and was suddenly in the air. The flight did not take long – and then the tributes were being guided off the hovercraft one by one.
Winnow seemed to be one of the last to leave the hovercraft – and was escorted down a long and winding hallway lined with Peacekeepers by two other Peacekeepers. She was pushed into a room where she found Artemisia waiting for her.
"We don't have much time." Artemisia uttered – hurrying Winnow into a jacket. The jacket was a dark blue on the outside – lined on the inside with a thick, fleecy cotton.
Then the stylist produced a long, thick chain that had Cato's ring dangling at the end. "Here – I had to clear it with the board. And this chain is stronger, it won't break," she offered, slipping the chain over Winnow's head.
Winnow nodded to her in thanks, tucking the long chain under her shirt – her stylist quickly following the motion by zipping up the long jacket. Artemisia hastily took the tribute's loose hair back into a pigtail before doubling over the hair into a messy bun. A robotic voice announced thirty seconds until launch.
Artemisia quickly guided Winnow over to a circular metal plate that she stepped onto with only a moment's hesitation. The stylist offered her no final comfort except for a few words. "I'll be watching. And waiting – for my masterpiece to come back to me,"
Winnow offered an uncertain smile in response – a glass cylinder lowering between them. Artemisia watched her with a blank expression – her expression only twisting when the metal plate began to rise.
Winnow wondered briefly, while she was in the darkness of the cylinder – if she really meant anything to the pixie-like stylist. Artemisia had offered no real comfort to her – and she was sort of glad for it. Winnow might just have broken down if the woman had truly tried to give her comfort.
She was only in the darkness of the cylinder for a few seconds before emerging into the open air of the Arena. The wind stirred her hair and the scent of pine invaded her senses. To her right was Cato in a rusty-red jacket – they shared a quick glance and nodded at each other. To her left was the boy from District 9.
Then came the voice of the legendary announcer – Claudius Templesmith – his voice booming all around them – "Ladies and gentlemen, let the Seventy-fourth Hunger games begin!"
I'm sorry guys - I didn't mean to take this long to post the next chapter. Classes are coming to a close for the summer so there has been some studying and paper-writing.
Review please!