I. Of Hauntedness And Healing
The boy who fell into the sky
Had no one there to watch him cry
He looked at you with his empty eyes and said:
"I'm doing you a favor."
It's odd that it all comes down to this: two girls desperately clawing at one another as he watches from up above.
Calsin's hands tremble as the Five girl pounces on Three, trying but ultimately failing to choke her out. He's not sure why he's nervous considering they're the ones fighting, but he can't prevent the sweat from trickling down his forehead.
"It's because you're a coward," a voice inside his head taunts him. "Sure, you're going to win this, but at what cost? Is it really a victory if it's earned by sheer cowardice?"
"Shut up," Calsin mumbles at the frozen ground beneath him, quiet enough that neither of the girls hear him.
If he wants to win, he has to be rational. Joining an already nasty fight would be idiotic. The last thing Calsin needs is for the two of them to target him instead of one another. If he just stays here, atop the cave, hopefully they'll kill one another eventually.
"Is that really the right way to win?" the voice asks him. "Do you really think I want you to win by sitting there and doing nothing? Since when is that what I died for?"
Calsin grits his teeth. "I said, shut up!"
Truth be told, Calsin Verrillo's fucking tired; moreso than he's been his entire miserable life. More than anything, he just wants to go home, back to Adrian. He's had enough of the arena and all the hell it's put him through, enough of the tears in his eyes and the phantom weight of Atlantis' limp body in his arms. If patience is a virtue, he's going straight to hell.
(He doesn't dare think about what'll happen when he gets home. He refuses to imagine the look on Shane Odeen's face when it's Calsin who returns instead of his savior. Atlantis promised him that everything'd be okay if he made it out of the arena alive, and he's got no choice but to believe her.)
(Why should he believe her when she fucking hated him until just two days ago?)
(Maybe Atlantis Seasbane is Calsin's white whale. Maybe she's the unobtainable dream he has to project upon if he wants to make it out of here alive, even if she's just another missed connection. Just another bond that could've been stronger in another life. Just another star that Calsin was so close to reaching but ultimately was never even close to. Just another— Sevilin. Fuck.)
He can't just wait here forever. A coward's victory is hardly a win at all.
Calsin steadies his grip on the rocks and begins his descent downwards. The girls' verbal battery ricochets off his eardrums like bullets off a kevlar vest. It's clear that the two have history with one another. It's clear that the outcome of this fight is meaningful for them both. Calsin can't help but fear he'd be interrupting their climatic moment if he gets in the middle of the action. However, such a minor worry is hardly an excuse for him to stand idly by. There's no excuse for him to be a fucking coward.
His feet hit the clouded landscape underneath him with a solid thump. Calsin looks to see the two girls, still bickering, and sighs. It's all or nothing, huh?
"You're nothing!" The girl from Three sneers as Five pushes her to the ground. "Leave me alone; you're nothing!"
It's then that Calsin realizes they're both unarmed. He gulps, then unhooks his rapier from his belt.
"I'm not the one who needs to be leaving somebody alone," the Five girl says, failing to notice Calsin as he charges into battle. "I'm not the one who—"
"Fuck!"
Calsin's sword slices through the air before implanting itself in the girl from Five's hip. Her warm blood clings to Calsin's shirt, but he can't find it in him to feel any sort of remorse. They may not know it, but District Four needs him to return home. She may not have meant it, but Atlantis needs him to return home as well.
Five's jaw goes slack in pure shock as Calsin dislodges the blade. He lets her blood drip once, then twice on the floor before deciding to swing again, this time at her chest. Her body caves in on itself as she crumbles to the ground, gasping for air.
(Calsin can't help but notice a reflection in the pool of blood beneath her. Though he wishes it were his own features he was taking in, instead he sees Atlantis with a devilish grin.
"I always knew you had this sort of anger in you," she sneers at him. "Where was it when you killed me?")
He retracts the blade from Five's tender flesh and sighs. He does his best to ignore her faint whimpers before her cannon finally sounds, but Calsin can already tell that he'll be haunted by them forever.
"Yeah, that's more like it," Atlantis' voice continues to scorn him. "Are you going to take the other one out, or are you too much of a coward."
Calsin turns around and looks the Three girl dead in the eye. She growls, "I was supposed to kill Verdigris, not you."
"I'm sorry."
He doesn't mean it though. Calsin brandishes his rapier downwards atop her throat and presses the tip slightly against her skin.
She's covered in gore, scars, and bruises, clearly damaged far beyond repair. There's a gaping wound in her stomach that continues to gush blood on the floor. Calsin has no idea what happened to her, but the only way he'll know is if he kills her to get to the recap.
"Stop staring at her." He hears Atlantis chuckle at him. Slowly intonation grows from laughter to hysterical screaming, Calsin still standing over Three's body. His hand grows clammy against the hilt of the weapon as the voice of the girl he never truly had a chance at fixing continues to berate him.
"You did the same thing when you killed me. Why can't you just deepen the blade and get it over with? Are you trying to save face, or something? Are you trying to prove that you're a good person by letting this poor girl bleed out when you can easily end her misery? What the fuck is wrong with you, Calsin. You always act like you're some sort of a hero when you're nothing but your family's villain. You were my villain too until you decided that you could fix me, as if I was some sort of a project you can take home and show your not-boyfriend, who I bet doesn't love you, by the way. You were not my savior the same way Lana never was Four's. You can't be anybody's savior if you can hardly save yourself, Calsin. So get over it; get over yourself. Just kill her, and everything will be over. Jab the blade through her throat and she'll no longer be in pain. She'll no longer be stuck in this dark, fucked-up world, the one you claim you can heal. Why don't you quit talking about it and start actually doing it? All it takes is one second, just one push and—"
"That's it!" Calsin screams, his voice going hoarse in his throat. "I've had enough of this shit! Stop acting like you're in control of me, okay? Stop repeating what I already know. Just because we're—"
(Twin flames. Brought into this world at the same time, only one meant to be taken out of it peacefully. Two halves of the same fucked-up coin. Perfect foils.)
(Near strangers. Born at the same time as purely a coincidence. Two separate coins in two separate buckets. Enemies.)
"—It doesn't fucking matter. Because I'm the one who's alive now, and you're not. So why don't you just leave me the fuck alone and let me move on?"
"I'll never truly leave you, Calsin. Don't you realize that I'll always be a part of you."
"The only person who's a part of me is myself. You can't fucking take that away from me!"
It's just him when he digs the blade deep into Three's throat. It's just him when her head falls against the clouds. It's just him when her cannon fires. It's just him (not his parents, not Shane, not Sevilin, not Atlantis) when—
"Presenting the Victor of the 52nd Annual Hunger Games. Calsin Verrillo, Tribute from District Four!"
Caspian glares daggers at him the entire train ride home.
When he isn't just staring, he's screaming at Calsin, "You're not supposed to be here!"
"I don't care," he catches himself muttering, time and time again. "Atlantis wasn't supposed to be here either."
These past few days have been an utter blur. From waking up in a hospital bed in a room full of strangers to talking on stage in front of the entire country once again, nothing's felt real to Calsin. In all actuality, everything's felt like a fantasy since Ellie died. Since winning, it's only gotten more surreal, and not in a good way.
(Whenever cameras are in his face, he can't help but wonder if Sevilin is watching from afar.)
Normally, when somebody wins the Hunger Games, it means that they're safe. For Calsin, it just means more dread as the train clatters along the tracks.
"You're going to be okay," Crista tries to reassure him, squeezing onto his shoulders as they near the station. "They're not going to do anything to you, I promise."
He's not naive enough to believe that his mentor can actually guarantee that. Sure, the Collective isn't Four's entire population, but they're powerful enough to enact significant change. They're powerful enough to kill him, if that's what they want.
"Just wait until Shane gets to you," Caspian hums as the train comes to a stop. "If you think he's going to be nice to you after that little stunt you pulled, you're mistaken, my friend."
The more Caspian threatens him, the more horror builds in Calsin's chest. He can't help but wonder, Was this all part ofAtlantis' plan? Did she tell me to kill her so that the Collective would be inclined to kill me in retribution?
He knows that he has to stop thinking about her. Calsin knows that Atlantis is dead and gone, and he'll never truly know what was going on in her brain when she told him to pull his sword at her. However, that doesn't mean that he can't ruminate over it. He gets the feeling he'll be pondering this for the rest of his life, no matter how long that may be.
(Is it selfish of Calsin to say that he sort of wants to live forever? Is it selfish of him to admit that if he gets rid of the Collective, his life will be golden? Is it selfish for him to desire shallow waters after his recent years have been nothing more than a storm?
Probably, but he doesn't care. He can't bring himself to give a damn.)
Crista grabs him by the wrist and helps him out of his seat. "You're going to be okay, Calsin. I promise, you're going to be okay."
They agreed it probably wouldn't be the best thing for him to have a public homecoming with a wide array of onlookers if he's really in danger like Caspian says he is. The plan is for Crista to walk him out of the station through the back exit, and then escort him to her home.
After that? Well, the two of them still have unfinished business, don't they?
"Thank you," Calsin replies. "Not just for your words, but for everything."
"It's no problem." That's a promise from Crista that he can actually believe. Never in his life has he met somebody as stunningly selfless as her. "It's my fault that you're in this mess, so it's up to me to get you out of it."
"It's not your fault. You didn't know this would happen."
When Crista established Four's training academy, there was no way for her to possibly know that the demons of her past would still be lurking under the surface. When she left to One to be with the girl she loved, there was no way for her to know that they'd come back in full force. Even if Crista wants him to, there's no way Calsin could ever blame her for this mess.
(The only person he can blame is himself. If he'd just been more normal, if he'd just been more willing to abide by his parents' strict rules and conservative thinking, this wouldn't have happened. Maybe Calsin would've still ended up in the arena, but he wouldn't return home with a target on his back. If he'd just conformed, he'd actually be safe for once.)
(He knows deep down that conformity was never an option for him.)
As Crista guides Calsin through the station, he can't help but shake. They're far enough away from Caspian that he can't see what they're doing, but that does little to ease Calsin's nerves. Chances are, he's going to be nervous until the entire Collective goes up in flames.
Still, when his feet touch the sand for the first time in weeks, a wave of relief washes over him. It's temporary, but he chooses to hold onto it for as long as possible.
Is it wrong of him to be a bit disappointed his parents didn't die in the fire at the academy? Yes, definitely.
It's the truth though. Calsin's life would be incredibly easier if he never had to see Kyros or Julisa Verillo ever again, not that he deserves an easy life after everything.
He's shocked when he sees the two of them at Crista's door, where he's been staying until his house in the victors village is complete.
"We thought maybe you'd learnt your lesson in there," his mother sneers at him, not even bothering to properly greet him or even give him a hug. "But, it seems like you're the same bastard you were when you left earlier this month. You know, you're always welcome to stay in our home."
"We'd prefer it too," his father adds. "With the fire burning the academy to a crisp, we're worried that whoever did it will attack Four's victors next."
Calsin can guarantee that they won't. He can guarantee that Crista's house is probably the only place where he'll ever truly feel close to safe.
"I'm not interested," Calsin tells them. "I'll be staying here until my new home is finished, and then I'll live there. Without you."
"But we're so proud of you!" His mother quickly changes her tune. "You know that we've always wanted to raise a victor."
That's an identity Calsin still struggles to see himself in, mainly because he doesn't feel like he's won anything. All he's earned is nightmares keeping him up at night and monsters beckoning him at his front door.
"You didn't raise me; I raised myself." Calsin spats back. "You don't get to claim ownership over me after everything you've done."
No, the only person who owns Calsin Verrillo is himself.
"But—"
"I don't want to hear it." Before he can say anything else, Calsin cuts his father off. "You don't get to decide my life for me, okay? So, either accept that, or leave. It's your choice."
He can't help but feel slightly proud of himself for talking so rudely at his parents. Before he ran away, Calsin would have never dreamed of speaking out of line. Before he fled, Calsin was always quiet, even if that was purely out of cowardice. There's so much more too that Calsin wants to say to his parents, now that he realizes he's above them. If they don't leave him alone, he just might.
"You're being irrational," Julisa coos. "Please, just hear us out for once."
"Right, because that's gotten me so far in the past," Calsin scoffs. "It's because of you guys that I wanted to run away in the first place. If you hadn't stopped being such lunatics, maybe I would've stayed around longer. All you tried to do was blind me from the truth and act like I could be saved by some mystical whale in the sky, but that's fucking bullshit. Nobody can save me but myself, just like how nobody can save either of you but yourselves. Really, it'd be wise of you to sit down and think about what you've done considering not one but two of your sons left you because they decided life on the streets was better than suffering under your roof. Perhaps, I didn't need to change in there, because I already know the truth. I already know that it's zealots like you two that are ruining Four. The white whale is unobtainable for a reason. You're never going to get there, so you might as well quit while you're ahead, if you could even call it that at this point. Soon, Cynric, Taurin, and Jaslyn are going to see the truth. Maybe that'll be good though. Maybe once all your kids have left you in favor of reform, you'll finally have the gauze lifted from your eyes and realize just how badly you failed as parents."
Before they can respond, he closes the door in front of them. He's given them the option of getting better. It's now up to them to make the right decision.
Calsin can't force their hand, but he can mock them for the rest of their lives if they don't choose wisely.
Even if he still isn't sure what to make of Atlantis Seasbane, Calsin did make a promise to her.
He thinks, maybe if he does this for her, she'll stop haunting him at night when he just wants to rest. And so, he sits along Havenside's rocky shores, waiting and waiting for Alithiya Essetella to join him.
Calsin passed her a note at the bar where she works yesterday, telling her to meet him along the water the next day at noon. If he's the sort of person who never goes back on his word, the best he can do is hope Alithiya's just the same. If she's anything like Atlantis though, he shouldn't get too optimistic.
However, it turns out that she's nothing like Calsin's former District partner. When she sits down next to him, Calsin's quick to notice her cheery disposition and glistening eyes.
"Are you holding up alright?" Calsin asks Alithiya before she can say something first. "I assume the past few weeks have been hard for you."
"They definitely have been," Alithiya admits, her expression suddenly shifting to one that's more solemn. "We weren't dating when she left for the Games, but I still feel like there's a part of me that's missing."
"I'm sorry that I killed her," Calsin says, even if he was following Atlantis' instructions. "It's just that—"
"Oh, please don't apologize." Alithiya cuts him off. "She was, to put it lightly, a troubled individual. It's probably for the best that she's finally able to rest now. As bad as our bad times were, me and Atlantis did have a lot of good times, you know? We'd sit on this exact beach and watch the waves together for what seemed like hours at a time. I'm just trying to hold on to the better memories of her. That's all I can do at this point."
"That makes sense." He nods. Calsin heard the way Atlantis spoke of Alithiya, like she was some sort of an ethereal being, and that definitely makes sense to her. Even though she's quite somber now, there's something about her that simply radiates joy. If there's such a thing as an individual that's perfect for Atlantis, it's probably her. "I wanted to talk to you because well, I made a promise to her before she died. I promised that I'd tell you something from her."
"And what's that?" Alithiya's brow quirks upwards. Though her tone is slightly intrigued, Calsin gets the feeling that she already knows what he's going to say.
He takes a deep breath and sighs. "She wanted me to tell you that she loved you."
That's all it takes for a tear to form in Alithiya's eye. She shifts away from him and stares up at the sun, seemingly breaking underneath its rays. For a split second, Calsin thinks that he's done something wrong. But, when he tries to get up, Alithiya grabs him by the wrist and looks him in the eye.
"Thank you for telling me that," she articulates, her tone much softer than it was before. "I loved her too."
He's been back in Four for nearly a month, but he's still been too nervous to talk to Adrian.
Calsin knows that he's pretty damn close to the same person he was around him since leaving the arena, but he's still uneasy. He's afraid that in the time he's been gone, Adrian's moved on from him. He's afraid that when Adrian saw him kill, he decided he no longer wanted anything to do with him.
(There's a part of Calsin that wouldn't blame him.)
But, if he can tell Alithiya how Atlantis felt, there shouldn't be anything preventing him from telling Adrian how he feels. He did make a promise that he'd stop being a coward, after all.
Despite the anxiety that swirls in his stomach, Calsin knocks firmly at the door to the shack he once called home. Within seconds, a familiar voice calls out, "Who is it?"
He told himself he wouldn't cry, but just those three words coming from Adrian are enough for Calsin to shed a tear. He stammers, "It's me. It's C—"
The door swings open before he can finish.
"Hi."
The faint blush in Adrian's cheeks is one Calsin remembers all too well. The same goes for the curly mop of brown hair that sits atop his head, and his chocolate eyes that he can't stop himself from melting at.
"Hi," Calsin whispers.
Adrian smiles, another feature of his that Calsin's admittedly memorized. "I was wondering when you'd stop by, Mr. Victor."
"I'm sorry," Calsin mutters to the ground. "I was just scared that you'd see me differently after everything that happened, and that you'd no longer want anything to do me, especially after I—"
The other boy wrams him in his arms and cuts him off. "It's okay, Calsin. I knew you'd need to take your time to decompress after everything you experienced. I was just hoping that you hadn't forgotten me."
"How could I forget you?" He remarks. "You sort of changed my life for the better, you know?"
"Oh I do, I just never thought you'd say it," Adrian says with a chuckle. "I missed you, though. And I'm not the only one."
He steps out of the door frame, making room for Brack and Delphin, the two kittens they rescued together. A sudden fear that they'll no longer recognize him rises in Calsin's throat, but it's quickly dismissed when Delphin playfully scratches at his leg. Calsin crouches to the ground and strokes the feline's dark gray fur, the smile on his mouth embarrassingly wide.
"I missed them too," Calsin professes. "I missed you too."
He cranes his head upwards and again stares deeply into Adrian's eyes. "I really, really did. The entire time I was in there, I was hoping that you were watching and constantly wondering what you were thinking."
"I didn't watch the whole time," the boy admits. "But, that's mainly because I didn't want to see you die. I did go to bars and try to watch as much as I could stomach."
"Bars?" Calsin's voice suddenly quavers. "You didn't meet somebody else there, did you?"
"What do you mean?" Adrian asks, clearly confused.
"Like, meet meet somebody else," Calsin attempts to clarify. "As more than a friend…"
"Why would that matter?" Adrian's confusion is now obviously feigned. "I thought that we were just friends."
"You know that we're not," Calsin says, his hands shaking at his sides as he rises back to his feet. "I know I've only said this to you while drunk or high, but I really do feel a lot for you. For a while, I thought it was, like you said, friendship. But recently, I just… yeah."
"Yeah?" Adrian teases him, taking Calsin's hands in his. "Yeah what?"
His entire body trembles. "Yeah, I don't appreciate your presence in my life as a friend because I wish that you were more than just my friend, because I think there is a high chance I could fall in love with you."
"I know." Adrian presses his chin against Calsin's. "And not just because you always tell me that when you're intoxicated, but because well… I feel the same way."
Calsin trembles backwards and pumps his fist in the air. "No way!"
"Come back here," the other boy pleads. He reaches out towards Calsin and pulls him close again. "You really think I'm letting you leave me again?"
"I don't want to," Calsin swears.
Before Adrian can say anything else, he tilts his head to the side and presses his lips against his. He's pretty sure he's kissed Adrian before, but never sober. Now that he is though, his body can't help but overheat as he runs his fingers through Adrian's curls.
He pulls away and smirks. "Yeah, there's no way I'm leaving you again."
"Then I'll stay by your side for as long as I'm able," Adrian says before initiating another kiss.
If this is what it means to feel bliss, Calsin never wants to stop.
When there's another knock at his door, he can't help but worry.
"It's probably fine," Adrian tells Calsin as he sits on Crista's couch, petting the cats. "Worst case scenario, it's your parents and you tell them off again. Cressida told me you did a great job with that last time."
"Oh no," Calsin stammers. "Did she hear all of that?"
"She sure did," the other boy insists. "She thought it was funny though, don't worry."
"Alright."
A stronger knock means that Calsin's really ought to open the door for whoever's behind it. As he wraps his hand around the knob, he wonders who is there. Alithiya usually calls him before he comes over, and though she keeps telling Calsin that he's got to meet Atlantis' brother Talquin, that'd probably also warrant a warning. Maybe it's Cynric, or Jaslyn, or Taurin, or—
"Holy fucking shit."
He opens the door to see Sevilin Verrillo standing before him for the first time in three years.
"I know that you started the fire at the academy," his brother says, without missing a beat. "That was pretty sick of you."
For a second, Calsin swears that he's dreaming. He closes the door, then opens it again, somehow just as shocked when Sevilin's still standing there.
"Sorry, did you want to try this again?" Sevlin asks him. "Hello, brother. It's nice to see you after all this time, or whatever."
"It's nice to see you too," Calsin replies, still believing that he's in a trance. "I didn't think I'd ever see you again, much less alive."
"Yeah, well unfortunately, I'm still breathing," his brother professes with a chuckle. "Seems that you are too, big guy. I'll admit, I was worried for you during that fight with the One boy."
"You watched?" Calsin's brows furrow. "I mean, thank you, but I didn't think you'd—"
"Of course I did!" Sevilin exclaims. "At first it was out of jealousy and spite when I heard you were volunteering, but as soon as you talked about reforming Four in your interview, I had a feeling that something was up."
"Meaning?"
"Shane totally put you up to this," he continues. "And that's why you burnt down the academy. He didn't want you back, I'm assuming."
"Yep, pretty much." Calsin says with a nod. "But also, he was pretty awful to Crista, so it was sort of her idea initially. I just helped because well, I guess I also had some anger to get out."
"Makes sense," Sevilin replies. "You are my brother, after all."
Never did Calsin think he'd hear Sevilin say that, and mean it affectionately. Whenever his other siblings called him "brother," it was in a sinister tone as they mocked him for being the black sheep of the family without Sevilin in the picture.
"I'm sorry I didn't run after you that night," Calsin admits. "I wanted to, I really did. I was just afraid of what would happen. I was afraid that you wouldn't want me by your side. There's so much I wanted to tell you back then, about how I agreed with you whenever you spoke out at Mom and Dad, but I didn't know how to put it into words. I did always feel a connection with you though, even if so much of it was made up in my head."
"I had a feeling," Sevilin comments. "That's why I told you when I was leaving. I was sort of hoping that you'd follow me."
"I'm sorry I didn't," he repeats.
"There's no need to apologize. We're here together now, aren't we?"
Calsin reaches out and hugs his brother for what's very likely the first time.
Adrian's looking at him from the living room, and Crista's making food alongside Cressida in the kitchen. Alithiya's on speed dial whenever he needs to talk, and Atlantis has stopped taunting him from above.
It shouldn't have taken him eighteen years, but Calsin Verrillo can finally say he's found his family.
Despicable - grandson
This sort of came to me in the past twenty-four hours, even though I was just going to rewrite the finale. This is probably the only time I'll leave an AN in this fic, but welcome to what'll someday be a collection of victory AU's for the kids I've offed in SYOTs. Okay, I know I didn't kill Calsin, but this is what his life would've been like if Crista never stole the hovercraft and he won like, naturally. It's definitely unrealistic of the Collective not to kill him, but for the sake of this oneshot, they didn't. Personally, I think he works better for my verse as a survivor, just based on the future of my subplot and the fact that what I have planned for Verdigris is too good not to write, but this was still fun. Maybe it was too happy, but I don't really care. Anyway, I have no idea when I will update this or who I will feature next, but eventually you'll see something else.