TW: there is no self harm or ideation thereof or really anything related to that sort of trigger. There IS, however, a word that rhymes with "juice" in this chapter, just because it fit into a sentence with an entirely different and non-suicidal subject.

Also whenever I update this slow I always get a few wellness check PMs to see if I died- which is just so nice of you and also hilarious and a little flattering- so I will clarify that I just started a new job working 12 hour shifts and also I'm in a full-time Masters program. I've been working way ahead on homework for the weeks where I work 60 hours. My semester ends in four weeks and then the updates will be more normal.

Gabriel Farad, Victor

I waited until I was good and ready to try sitting up. I'd really had enough of people poking and prodding and getting all up in my space, so I didn't want to sit up too early and get myself wrestled and sedated.

Is it real? I opened my eyes a slit and saw a hospital roof above me. My mind spasmed a little and shied away from forming any conclusions. Had I won, like I thought I remembered? Was I waking up again to start everything all over? Second place, and then right back where I began? Was I still in the arena and I'd dreamed of winning? I lay there for what felt like a long, long while, only really certain that I somehow existed.

Reality fell into place when my bracelet vibrated. I shot upright in bed, my eyes riveted on the open door. Maybe it was Erwin and Sky and I'd know for sure. Maybe it was one of the other Tributes and it was time for one more fight.

Hi! The enthusiasm of Sky's sign made the exclamation points obvious. You won! I pored over every inch of her, checking that she was the Sky I remembered and this wasn't a dream that could be given away by missing teeth or a random nudity or something.

You know how to sign? It was all so much to take in that my brain latched onto something digestible.

I learn while you are in arena, she signed imperfectly and with an accent. I want be able to hello you in language native.

I really won. It was a thought, not a sign. My back ached with the strain of sitting up at an angle without my hands to prop me up. I leaned back against the pillow and tried to take it in.

I won, I signed, just testing it out.

You won.

I won. I never really thought the moment would come. I hadn't ever really thought I would die, not really, but I hadn't thought I would win, either. It's hard to explain that we don't think much in the arena. We just act, like animals.

A thought came to me. Do I look weird?

Sky cocked her head like she could somehow hear my sign better. I said it again with slower and more exaggerated motions. I… look… weird?

Sky laughed. She reached into her pocket and took out a makeup compact.

It's not as bad as it could have been. I couldn't say I liked any of the changes they'd made. My cheekbones were sharper. My eyes were a more striking shade of green where they'd earlier been soft hazel. My hair had an unnatural shine and my chin was more defined. I looked like an overly filtered photo- like someone had looked at me, gone "eh, not good enough" and taken out all the "undesirable" parts. I kind of liked me just the way I was. Still, not the end of the world. At least they didn't give me a huge rack. And I could see some trace imperfections. There was a tiny scar almost entirely hidden by the fold at the corner of my eye. It must have been from shrapnel. It was amazing they'd saved the eye.

E-R-W-I-N is not here. You know he is… Sky groped for a sign, then just made a knowing face at me. I smiled. She didn't know the sign for grumpy.

Someone else is coming to see you soon, though! Sky's excitement added another exclamation mark. It's a SURPRISE!

Ooh, I think I- I leaned sideways to get out of bed. The rest of me didn't move, though, and I almost splatted onto the floor. I hauled myself back into bed with my arms.

Oh, the medicine must still be wearing off. I looked up at Sky and a sudden knife of fear went through me. I didn't like the expression on her face.

What's wrong? I asked. All at once I noticed the strain in her smile a moment ago. How her hand had shook when she shut the door behind her.

There's bad news. Her hands fluttered through the signs like she wished she could brush them away,

It couldn't be the thought that had popped into my head. What a crazy thing to think.

There was a lot shrapnel inside you. Lot near your spine. Sky paused. She looked at the ceiling like someone up there could advise her. She looked back at me with the kind of expression I never, ever wanted someone to look at me with. Whatever she was going to say, I wished she wouldn't.

Too near your spine to remove. Doctors saved waist up. Legs are paralyzed. Very. Very. Sorry.

I'd just prove her wrong. I'd just move my legs. It didn't matter that I couldn't feel them, as was just now pressing on my thoughts. I'd just move them. I tried to move my leg. I didn't move it.

It's the medicine wearing off. I just need to try harder. My legs didn't move. My feet didn't move. Nothing moved, not down to my toes, the toes that seemed to be floating free of me. It wasn't just that I couldn't move them. I wasn't aware of them at all, no more than I was aware of a clipped fingernail.

When fix? I truncated the sentence in my haste to get it out and understood.

The tears were visible in Sky's eyes now. She had the tiny fake smile and stiff cheeks of a mother trying not to tell her children everything was all right. They say never. It will always be too dangerous try. I am so sorry.

Her hands hovered in the air. I wished she'd put them away. She shouldn't have learned Sign.

Over and over the thought blared in my mind and over and over my mind jerked away. I could not imagine it. I couldn't imagine it even as much as I could have imagined winning the Games. It had never even entered my mind. Never had those words, in that order, entered my mind.

I prodded my leg with a finger. It was like pressing a fresh corpse. It was what half of me was. Half of me was alive. The other was lying in a hospital room next to Walcott's body. For the rest of my life I was attached to a corpse. So many thoughts went through my head. Running. Jumping over a fence. Tripping and just totally eating pavement. Standing up to get a drink. Hopping to slap an overhead arch. Reaching for a box of cookies on the top shelf. Leaning back and looking up at the stars. My chest went tight. That part still works, I thought perversely. The tightness rolled out from there. It crept over me inch by inch. I wondered if that was what it had felt like when the life inched out of my legs, if I'd been aware enough to feel it. Or was it all at once, like the snap of a noose? An instant of snap, and my life was gone? The tightness clutched at me like I was in a cardboard coffin with more and more dirt piling onto me. Now my body's all the same again, I thought.

Sky's hands wavered back and forth like a charmed cobra. She started one sign and then another, trying to decide what to say and to determine if she knew the words. Her chest hitched with the effort of holding her breath steady. In the end, I was the first to speak.

I promised them I'd dance.

At last we get to the final reason Gabriel was an attractive Victor for me. I've long wanted to have a Victor with paralysis. It was a faint hope, though, since a couple of things had to line up. First I had to contrive a way that the winner could win despite being paralyzed. Then I had to find a Victor whose submitter would agree to the very big ask of paralyzing their tribute. The Resurrection format was my one chance. Gabriel's submitter is gone so it doesn't matter what happens to him. The medical arena gave me the electrical components needed for a realistic explosion of that size and precision. QoM may or may not have agreed to paralyze Walcott, but Gabriel was a sure shot. He was everything I wanted in a victor, several of which didn't have much hope of ever lining up again (electric-based arena, Muslim, deaf, abandoned submitter...) The shot lined up so perfectly I had to take it.