A/N: Wow, this turned out to be a long one! Sorry, but I really didn't want to split it up, so read at your own pace!

Cordovan's POV

I remember it very well.

It was a dark, foggy, rainy kind of September 29th, a couple of days before my birthday. It was miserable and wet and I sat in the back of the room during Games History, biting my eraser as the teacher went on and on about the 19th Games and why they're significant to the evolution of the District One standard.

We moved on to the 20th just as the door opened and a sopping wet boy enters, waving a hand in apology.

"Sorry I'm late, teach," he said, "Slept in. I'm the new kid."

The teacher ignored him, but the class exchanged a look amongst ourselves. He got out his notebooks and the teacher put a Games packet on his desk before starting to lecture some more.

I couldn't keep my eyes off of him. Something about this kid, his hair, his face, something made me want badly to stare.

He sat toward the front, two rows over, so it was easy to glance. I chewed on my eraser as I filled in the note sheets as our teacher talked. The new kid put headphones in his ears and put his feet up on his desk, after our teacher had only finished the introduction.

Our teacher tapped his desk immediately. "Pay attention, or else I might just move the unit test to tomorrow, Mr. New Kid."

The class groaned, but the new kid just shrugged. "I already filled out the notes for the next few Games."

"Well, you never know for sure if your answers are right, you know nothing-"

"Oh, you must not know. I'm Scotch Krietzer. My parents are Victors."

The room fell abruptly into dead silence.

So he's a Victor's kid. I thought he looked familiar. Now I can stop staring at him.

I didn't have the heart to look away, though. Our teacher said nothing after that, Scotch put his headphones back in, and just like that, the lesson continued.

But I couldn't look away from Scotch. He's funny and theatrical and he's insanely attractive.

I would like to, uh… Be his best friend, I think, before shaking my head. Deep inside I knew resistance was futile, though I denied it. Oh, who am I kidding? a little voice kept saying, If Scotch Krietzer were to kiss me right now, I would absolutely kiss him back. If he were to ask me out, I'd go with him. If he were to offer to fuck me against a wall right there, I'd probably do that, too.

And I'd probably like it.

A lot.

And, though I didn't admit it that day, or really for a couple months after, I knew that I was, well… Queer. It wasn't until a while after that when I figured that I'm bisexual (but hey, maybe that'll change, you never really know…).

About a year after that, I told Scotch how I felt, and he hasn't talked to me since.

I was humiliated and insecure.

Scars on the back of my thighs.

I ate alone at lunch for months, trained alone for weeks, I was miserable.

I met Pride in training, he was in my weight class for hand-to-hand combat testing.

He agreed to be my friend and through him, I met Fortune. I never thought any of it would've ended how it did.

~.~.

I don't know why, but I visited the 41st tributes. My conscience was really bothering me about it, so finally I gave in and went to visit after Candle and Pride volunteered.

After Candle and I exchange some less-than-friendly words, I walk to Pride's room.

Fortune is there, waiting, and she looks up at me, a confused expression crossing her features. (She looks pale; I swat away my concern.)

Pride looks up when I enter, his face looking puzzled.

"Hello." I sit across from him.

"Cord." He keeps his eyes trained on me

"I'm still not here to try to win you back." I have to make it clear, "I can't trust my heart to you or Polius. Not again."

"Cord-"

"Don't apologize. I just came to promise that I'll take care of things while you're gone. No matter how long."

He knows what that means, but outside he doesn't show it.

"It'll be a short Games. I'll be back in no time."

"But even if it takes… longer… I'll be here."

"I don't need it. I'm going to win, and I'm going to win quick!" He's already not himself. He's not thinking logically. He's become something else, something less pleasant, and all because of me.

"Fine." I get up and start for the door, trying not to scowl.

I'm about to go when he calls out, "Cord!"

I glance back behind my shoulder.

He looks up at me and mumbles, "Watch out for Fortune… While I'm gone. And protect Sephora. Please. No matter… How long."

I smile slightly and nod. "Thought so."

I walk out of the room as he calls after me, "Thanks! …For everything."

Well, now it's official. Now I have a reason to live.

Because if Pride dies and Fortune drifts away from me, then, well… I'll have lost mine.

~.~.

And so Fortune is holding my hand, guiding me to her house.

It's been the most stressful week of my life. Pride was killed. I decided I owed it to him to come out openly. My parents smashed a vase over my head and I've been beaten up by multiple people at school, and my head has been pounding.

I had to save Fortune from suicide because she was afraid, when I have trouble saving myself nowadays.

Scards that are tucked safely away behind my knees where no one would suspect they're even there.

But I can't take a break from hardships, so I walk with Fortune to her house anyways to talk to her parents about the fact that she's pregnant with Pride's baby.

I'm going to protect her. I have to keep protecting her.

"Thank you for sticking with me, Cord." I smile slightly, as much as my muscles are reluctant to do so. We reach her front door and she takes a series of deep breaths.

"Breathe," I whisper quietly, "Just keep breathing."

We walk into the house, through the parlor and to the living room, where Fortune's parents and younger sister are sitting and waiting for Fortune to talk to them.

"Cord!" squeals Fortune's 2-year-old sister Temprance. "You dating Cord, Sissy!?" her wide green eyes are hopeful, but Fortune shakes her head, "He's just here as a friend."

She glances at me and I look away from her, feeling awkward.

"What's going on?" Fortune's father asks, looking concerned.

"Fortune, my baby, sweet baby Fortune, what happened?!" her mother asks, and Fortune takes a breath. "Please, calm down. All of you. Please."

Soon, the room is once again silent, the air growing tense.

"Okay, now stay calm. Please don't freak out, okay?"

"Fortune," Mrs. Polius starts, "As your parents, it's our job to protect you-" soon Fortune's father starts talking again sternly, and this time Temprance starts squealing over both of them.

Fortune sighs before she shouts over the ensuing chaos, "I'm pregnant!"

The room once again goes dead silent in a millisecond. All I can hear is my head pounding, but I'm sure I'm the only one that can hear that.

Her family's eyes grow cold. They stare at her in a moment of disgust.

Then, slowly, they stare at me. I stand up and put a protective arm in front of Fortune. "Don't hurt her," I say in a low voice. The thought keeps pecking away at my head and heart that I may be able to protect Fortune from physical violence, but I'll never be able to protect her from hurtful words.

"How dare you," Mr. Polius says, standing up slowly, "How. DARE YOU!"

He lunges forward, but it turns out I don't have to protect Fortune because he tackles me!

Fortune screams, "DAD!"

"How dare you do this to our sweet girl!" he roars, slugging me in the face. The pain explodes in a burst of unpleasant heat and I let out a noise that is between a yelp and a scream.

Fortune runs over, sobbing and trying to get him off of me, "Dad! DAD!"

"How dare you rape our baby girl and get her pregnant, no-good bastard!"

Temprance starts crying as Fortune lets outs sobbing screams, "He's not the father!" Fortune cries out, "Please, he's not the father!"

The punches don't stop and with each one I feel closer and closer to death.

"Cordovan isn't the father!" shrieks Fortune, "It's Pride!"

The punches stop. I feel blood flowing but have no idea where and how. Fortune swallows hard and says, "We were just dumb and didn't protect ourselves. Please…" A low, roaring voice comes from Fortune's father and finally I can't stay conscious any longer: I black out.

~.~.

I open my eyes to Fortune sitting over me. "What happened?" I ask, though the pounding is a lot quieter.

I regret the question as soon as I say it. I know what happened. "Never mind," I add. I don't want to make her relive it just about as much as I don't want to relive it.

"I'm so sorry Cord… I wasn't thinking straight," Fortune cries quietly.

"Are you alright?" I sit up to help her and my head aches like hell. She gently pushes me back down, shaking her head.

"You surely have a concussion. Be careful with yourself."

She buries her fafce in her hands. "Don't worry. I probably had a concussion from before, anyways."

"I'll always be worried."

"Don't." I don't need anyone worrying over me.

She nods a bit, and there's a brief silence.

"You're really okay, though? Not injured?"

She shakes her head a little bit, looking conflicted whether or not to tell me.

"Tell me the truth."

"They kicked me out." I cringe. "Oh."

"It's okay, though. Mr. and Mrs. Davison agreed to let me stay with them and Sephora until he or she is born." She fiddles with her bun awkwardly.

"I can't help you much in that area, anyways. Not now, I mean. Maybe someday."

"Cord, please. You've done enough for me."

"No, no. There's no way I could do enough for anybody. I promise Pride I'd protect you and Seph, and I never back down on promises. No matter how long."

She erupts in another fit of sobs, burying her face in the blankets. I pat her back gently, whispering reassuringly though my heart is breaking, too.

It's really all I can do for her.

~.~.

The next time I open my eyes, Pride's younger sister Sephora Davison is sitting by my bedside.

"Phora," I say sleepily, "What are you doing here?"

"Fortune told me to watch you and make sure you didn't kill yourself doing something selfless."

I blink, "Oh."

"It was very kind of you to protect someone that smashed your heart to pieces."

"I still love her. And your brother."

"Pride is dead."

I shrug, heart breaking. "I still love him."

There's a pause. "I can help with that," she finally says, a devious smile crawling across her face.

"Wh-What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're upset that you struck out with Scheibel, yes?"

"Actually, not too much-" my heart still belongs to Pride and Fortune, deep inside I know that. It's just… I guess the fact that she talked to me like I'm just desperate and nothing else, really. But, before I can explain that to Sephora, she cuts me off.

"You just want someone to love you, do you not? So you throw yourself in harm's way just to win the affection of the people that surround you."

"That's a lie!" It was how I thought at first, but I realized early on that I didn't want to win affection by risking myself. I want someone to love me for who I am, not for me recklessly protecting them. I just do it because I want to, do it from my heart.

"It's only a 'lie' because you refuse to see the truth." There's an awkward silence and I want to sock the girl, but I know I can't.

I promised.

"You know, my brother made me promise to keep an eye out for you. To… Protect you, even."

I look up. "R-Really?"

That's the Pride I knew! He really thought of me! My heart soars, though it's soon grounded by the fact that there is no Pride anymore. Just memories, nothing but a ghost.

I notice just then how much Sephora's eyes resemble his.

She slowly leans down just then and presses her lips to mine in a gentle, soft, sweet kiss.

Some kind of alarm goes off in my head, but then I remember that she's not Pride!

She wasn't the one that broke my heart, I don't have to worry… She's just two years younger than I am, too.

So, I ignore the alarm, figuring it'll go away soon enough, and kiss her back.

~.~.

I wake up in my bedroom and take a second to realize what happened.

"Come on Corduroy, come on!" she kisses me hard and fast, her fingers are cold against my skin, and all I can think is that I'm not ready for this.

I like Sephora and am usually okay with sex, but I'm supposed to be on bed rest because I'm recovering from a concussion, and besides, this doesn't feel right…

"Seph," I mumble, gently pushing her back. She keeps on sucking on my neck.

"Seph, I'm on bed rest, remember, and I'm really not ready to go this far…"

She breaks away and looks at me, sighing. "Okay." She sighs again, looking disappointed. I feel guilty.

"Sorry, it's just-" I start, but she cuts me off, "No, no, it's okay," she sighs, though I can tell she doesn't mean it.

"It's just… It's just that you promised Pride that you'd take care of me, s'all. And you're usually so selfless… Are you saying you're scared?" She looks up at me, eyes hard.

"No, no," I lie, "It's just that I don't feel so well because of this injury!"

She throws her arms up, "Oh, of course! Of course you'll jump in danger's way for anyone but me! It's like you don't even care about me or about Pride!" She starts to cry.

"Seph…" I mumble, frowning. She looks up at me and blinks her big blue eyes at me before burying her face in her hands. I sigh quietly, knowing she's right.

"Okay. Please don't cry. I'll do it. I'll make you happy"

She perks up, drying her eyes. "Oh, good!"

I groan.

"Oh, Corduroy!" she sings from the kitchen, "Come and get it!" I smell nice bacon, eggs, and toast and I remember how much she cares.

My head pounds so hard I can't think. I groan again and she appears in the doorway, turning on the light (OW!) and holding a tray.

"Don't you move!" she sings, "I made you breakfast!" she says. She throws a long-sleeved shirt at me, "But first, put this on. Cover the atrocities."

I blink, still trying to get used to the bright light. "Huh?"

"Those ugly… Things."

"Huh?" I ask, wondering if she means my scars.

"The balck things!"

I blink. "My tattoos?" I like my tattoos.

"Yes."

She waits and I slip into the shirt. Then she puts a tray on my lap. It's not the delicious bacon, eggs, and toast I was smelling, but a meager orange and a glass of milk. I don't really know how to react, so she speaks first, "It's for that weight you've been putting on, babe."

"Weight?"

"Babe, when you dated my brother you had abs of steel! Now, well, you're getting' flabby."

"F-Flabby!?"

"Maybe even… Fat!"

"Fat!?" That can't be! Since Pride volunteered I've eben training harder than ever! I guess I've been stuck in bed for a week or so recovering from this concussion…

"You've been so lazy and you've eaten your feelings so much. Now, you can just come to me."

I guess I've been eating more than uual lately, thinking about it. I lift the shirt and poke my stomach.

It seems fine to me, really. But Sephora shakes her head.

I guess it's not good enough… I take the orange and decide I shouldn't eat much until I get my muscle back.

~.~.

"I don't get it," I say, standing on the scale, "It says 155. I'm 6'2, that's healthy!"

"But Corduroy, you have to know something about scales. They're all a scam!"

"A scam?"

"They're not honest about your weight! If a scale told, uh, a chubby person like you that they're fat, they'd totally pitch the scale and never buy another! Trust me, I know this."

"Oh." She smiles, "It takes your real weight and subtracts, like, ninety!"

I yelp, "N-Ninety!" Holy shit! I must look as horrified as I feel because she puts a hand on my shoulder.

"Don't wory, babe. That's just a number, anyways. It's all about how you look." She looks at me. "And It'll take a couple of months, but you can cut away that fat! And even if you stay so large, I'll love you anyways."

I nod, stomach growling. I walk to the kitchen to get a snack, stopping short when I realize that my cabinets are all empty!

Sephora smiles at me from the doorway, entering the room. "Oh, I disposed of all that bad stuff. Snacks are always unhealthy, anyways."

She smiles and I scowl. "I feel awful. Where's my food!?"

"I'm controlling your diet until you lose that fat!"

"Sephora, cut it out, I feel sick, let me eat!" She suddenly slugs my jaw and I put up my fists.

She shakes her head, I feel practically rabid. "You're supposed to protect me, Cordovan, and I'm only looking out for you just like I promised Pride."

"I don't care! I'm starving!"

I keep my fists up, ready to punch.

"Don't you dare punch me," she says warningly, "It'll prove that you're fucking savage!"

I put my arms down and step back in horrified shock as tears make their way to my eyes. That word hurts more than anyone will ever know.

"Don't talk back, either. And quit crying. Men don't cry."

My voice shakes, "Of course. I'm sorry."

"I know you are." She bats her beautiful, Pride-blue eyes at me and wraps her arms around me, kissing my lips gently.

I tense up for a second but then decide that it was nothing for her but a moment of weakness and that she didn't mean it.

I hug her back and melt into her.

~.~.

I haven't eaten for two days straight. As soon as I got the okay, I started training again, harder than ever before.

I want to be hot again.

No matter how bad it feels, I keep on training as hard as I can, no matter how hard I sweat or how much I shake, I keep training for Sephora and for Pride.

My stomach growls as I throw a spear; I've learned to ignore it.

I keep on training, sweating, panting, shaking feeling like shit, until I feel light-headed and my knees give out. Stumbling, I drop the spear I was holding and lose my balance, grabbing a wall for support.

Black splotches cover my vision, and I know immediately this is going to be the sixth time since my concussion that I've passed out during training.

Sephora says that means it's working.

~.~.