By the time morning dawns, bright and unpleasant against his eyes, Donnie hasn't slept much at all. He showers again (using as much of the hot water as he can stand), pulls some of the Capitol-provided clothes on, loops the purple sash he'd brought with him around his neck like a scarf, and steps into the hall. The train is rocking a little, and when he steps to the window all he can see is sky. It takes his sleep deprived mind a second to process that they're crossing some kind of stupidly tall bridge, and that the still water they're going over is reflecting the pale blue sky like a mirror.
"I need to sleep for at least another 12 hours," Donnie mutters, dragging his hands down his face. They smell like the shampoo that had been provided to him; fruity and artificial. It's making him miss the fish markets and sea salt smell of home. That's saying something, considering he's never actually liked those smells at all.
There's a soft shuffling sound from his left, and Donnie spins to face it, hands already clenched into fists. The metal in his pocket bumps against his leg, as though daring him to grab for it. An Avox stares back at him, wide eyed and surprised by his sudden reaction. He looks barely older than 16, but the Capitol doesn't care about mutilating children. Obviously.
Donnie clears his throat and straightens up, letting his hands uncurl and hang loose at his side. The Avox boy continues to stare.
"Sorry," Donnie says, mostly out of habit. Back home, Raph would always give him a Look if he didn't apologize. The words ring just as hollow here as they do back in District Four. "I'm jumpy. Maybe try not to sneak up on people who'll be fighting to the death in a few days."
Something like a smile flickers over the boy's face, quickly hidden as he drops into a deep bow. Donnie grimaces at the action. If someone bowed to him back home, he'd be thrilled. There's nothing better than lording his superiority over his brothers or classmates. Nothing feels particularly good about an Avox bowing to him, though; it's only fun if the other person is free to challenge him in the first place.
"Did you need something?" he asks, trying not to let any of the discomfiting swirl of emotions he's feeling show in his tone. The Avox can't speak, but when he stands straight and motions for Donnie to follow, he finds himself trailing silently behind him without question.
The smell of meat and bread hits his nose, and he realizes where they're going long before they reach the dining car. He slows, frowning, and when the Avox boy turns to give him a questioning look, he shakes his head.
"I don't want breakfast. I think I'll just go back to my room to—"
"He just doesn't want to deal with Atomo Grey again," a familiar voice chimes in from behind him. Donnie turns to face her with a scowl.
"Actually, it was you I was trying to avoid," he lies. Kendra's face twists, an eyebrow arching, her lips pursing even as the corner of her mouth twitches upwards with amusement. There are dark bags beneath her eyes, speaking to her equally troubled sleep. As long as she doesn't say anything about the family's worth of baggage beneath his eyes, he won't say anything about hers.
"Well, you failed spectacularly," Kendra says with a flip of her hair and a sly smile. He hates how normal this feels. Like they just bumped into each other around town, instead of on their way to the end of their lives. Like they might have been friends, in another life.
"I don't fail," he responds, trying to keep his tone breezy and light. He can feel the eyes of the lingering Avoxes on him. "I simply find opportunities to complete my goals in new and interesting ways."
"Whatever, freak," she says, and pushes past him on her way to the dining car. The Avox girl that had been accompanying her rushes to catch up, casting an unreadable look over her shoulder at him as she passes by. "I'm hungry, so either follow or don't. I don't care."
Donnie stares after her for a second, and he can practically hear Leo telling him to close his mouth or risk catching flies. The Avox boy lingers close by, and when Donnie glances at him, he can see the slightest smile playing across his otherwise dour features. Donnie rolls his eyes and stomps after Kendra, already dreading the breakfast conversation he's about to be subjected to.
"I'm just trying to say that you need to truly consider your options and think about what you can do if you want to win this!" Atomo is already at it, her voice filling the dining car and making his stomach churn before he's even gotten two feet inside it. The Avox slides the door shut behind him, and it feels like a prison sentence. She and Kendra both turn to look at him, and the dark delight that spreads across her face when she sees him makes him want to turn around and leave immediately.
"Oh look who it is," Kendra drawls, leaning back in her seat, fork held delicately as she brandishes the speared sausage at him. "Sleeping Ugly's finally deigned to grace you with his presence, Atomo."
"Why would she need me around when the beast has already been keeping her company?"
Donnie marches forward and flings himself into a chair as far away from both of them as he can get. An Avox materializes at his side and gently places a plate before him, filled with an assortment of delicacies that are nigh impossible to get back home. Meat he's never seen before. Fruits he only knows the names of because papa used to talk about the food he'd indulged in during his time in the Capitol. Three different kinds of sweet, fluffy bread that Mikey would probably give his legs to get the chance to try out baking, if only they could get the ingredients.
It's a shame his stomach is still roiling and his stress levels are far too high to be able to indulge in any of it. Still, with the eyes watching him, he's unwilling to show his discomfort. He grabs his fork and makes a show of tasting the fruit. The tingle on his taste buds makes his skin crawl.
"I was just telling dear Kendra here that she'll have to work with me if we want to figure out a strategy for her."
"Mentor still missing in action?" he asks, eyes trained only on Kendra as he does his best to not give Atomo the satisfaction of his attention that she seems to want so badly. He wonders if she gets a commission if one of the tributes from her assigned district wins.
"Yup," Kendra tells him, brow drawn low and eyes flashing with anger. The expression doesn't match the carefree way she drags the single syllable into three and pops the 'P'. He snorts and rolls his eyes, turning back towards his food and forcing himself to take another small bite. He can feel it crawling back up his throat, like insects trying to escape the walking death trap his body has become. He tries to distract himself, focusing instead on the topic at hand.
"You've grown up in Four all your life. There's no way you don't know how to use something useful. A spear or trident, perhaps? Clobber someone with an anchor? Strangle them with fishing line? I'm sure there's enough room in that little brain of yours for some creative thinking."
"You seem like you think about this a lot," Kendra sneers, but when he looks at her she's leaning backwards in her chair, leaning as far away from him as she can. There's a bead of sweat on her forehead, and Donnie very deliberately does not keep staring long enough to watch it make its slow path down her face. She's suspicious of him. Scared of him.
He shrugs, pretending like he didn't notice. Doesn't care.
"Of course I do. I have three brothers. Murder is on my mind at least twice a day."
"Fair enough," Kendra says, and he is suddenly reminded of the fact that he's heard April complaining about Kendra's brothers, too. He wonders if any of them would have volunteered for her, if they could have. Maybe that's mostly a Hamato thing.
"Well?" Atomo prompts, drawing the attention back to herself. Donnie bites into a piece of the steak, the inside still red. He chews and tries not to wonder about how different meat from a plate would feel compared to meat from a human. He'd never gotten up enough courage to ask Raph.
"What?"
Atomo huffs the most aggravated sigh he thinks he's ever heard before, rolling her eyes before pointing her spoon at Kendra's face. The pudding she'd been eating drips onto the table with a wet splat.
"Do you or do you not have any skills you could use to your advantage?"
Kendra chews her lip, eyes darting towards Donnie as though she's afraid to say anything with him there. It's not a bad thing to be worried about. After all, if she spills all her secrets now, she won't have anything to hold above his head later. Nothing to surprise him with to keep herself alive, if it comes down to a fight between the two of them.
"My family mostly specializes in trapping," she begins slowly. Her eyes dart between the two of them, not sure who to direct her answer to. Donnie nods thoughtfully, mind already spinning with ideas for how that could be used in her favor. He doesn't voice his thoughts, though, both because he doesn't want her to worry about him already knowing her strategies, and because he doesn't want to give her any advantages she hasn't already thought of for herself.
"You process the catches yourself, don't you? That means you at least have the ability to hold a knife. Use that to your advantage."
He doesn't understand the look she gives him at that. Surprised, maybe? Annoyed, more likely. It doesn't matter. He's said his piece and hasn't had to deal with Atomo's condescending or pestering or disgusting comments about his family. Not directly, at least.
He pushes his half eaten plate away and stands. His gaze finds that of the Avox boy, and he gestures for him to follow as he strides past him and out of the room. Atomo's spluttering follows him, and he grins at the thought of her painted face all flushed with anger at being so completely ignored. Apparently, she's not used to it.
"I'm going to take a nap," he tells the Avox. There's no response, of course, but he can hear the boy's footsteps following softly in his wake. "Wake me up when we're approximately 30 minutes from the Capitol. I want to make sure I'm awake and fully functional by then. Wouldn't want to make a bad first impression."
He thinks he hears a soft snort from the boy. Maybe the ghost of a laugh long cut out of him. He doesn't bother to look to check, though he gives him a stiff wave over his shoulder right before the door slides shut behind him.
He dims the lights and collapses into the provided bed, still in his Capitol provided clothes, breathing deep and trying to focus only on the feeling of satin sheets against his skin. The train is moving so quickly and so smoothly that he can't even feel any sign of movement from within the plush nest of pillows and blankets. It's unerringly quiet. Truly a marvel of engineering.
He groans and flops onto his side, curling up tight and holding his hands over his ears. The sound of his own rushing blood is only marginally better than the silence. He can hear himself swallow. Hear himself breathe.
"Disgusting," he grumbles out loud, and removes his hands with a shudder. Back to silence, it is.
He lays awake for a long while, eyes stubbornly closed as he waits for either sleep to take him or for them to arrive at their destination. The sound of his twin breathing has always been a much needed (it often annoying) white noise as he tries to rest, but he never would have guessed how much he misses it now that it's gone. He's never really gotten to experience the bliss of total quiet, but now that he has, he's coming to the unfortunate realization that he doesn't like it.
His house has always been so noisy, the sounds of family surrounding him from the very first second of his very first memory. The familiar sounds have always been as close to a familiar lullaby as he could hope to get. The sound of Mikey singing at the top of his lungs — and Raph's low voice begging him to stop — filtering through the wall that connects their rooms. Dad's puttering about the house long after he'd shooed his sons off to bed. April's slurred words as she talked in her sleep. Leo's tossing and turning until he eventually drifted off or gave up trying and got up to make himself tea. All a familiar backdrop that he's been taking for granted all along.
There's something wet soaking into his pillow, creating an uncomfortably cool spot beneath his cheek. He lifts a hand and touches it, and it takes a few embarrassingly long seconds for it to click in his mind that he's crying. He misses his family to the point of pain after less than a day. How very plebeian of him.
With a grumble that is only half a sob, Donnie rolls over and buries his face in one of the many pillows. He's grateful it muffles the stupid little hiccuping sounds he makes; they'd be far too loud in the quiet space otherwise.
At some point during his little crying stint, he must have dozed off at last, because he's brought suddenly to awareness by a tapping at the door. His first instinct is to shout at his brothers to quiet down, before he remembers exactly where he is. Donnie jerks himself out of the bed the second the realization hits him, still bleary eyed as he stumbles to his feet. The bedsheets get dragged halfway across the room before he even realizes they'd gotten all twisted around his leg at some point while he slept. The knocking continues, quick and insistent.
"I heard you!" he calls, shaking his leg to shed the last of the clinging satin. He throws the sliding door open with as much force as he can manage while still half asleep. The Avox boy stares unblinkingly back at him, hand still raised to continue his knocking.
"Thirty minutes from our destination?" Donnie asks facetiously, eyebrow arched the way he used to practice in the mirror until he had perfected it. The Avox nods, and Donnie sighs. "Okay. Give me five minutes to freshen up, then I guess we'll head to…wherever it is I need to go this time."
If, when he emerges ten minutes later, his eyes are still red and puffy despite his freshly washed face, the Avox is polite enough to pretend like he doesn't notice it. At least someone on this train has manners.
Kendra is waiting for him in the caboose, dressed in the same clothes she was wearing yesterday with her brown hair piled atop her head in a stylishly messy bird's nest of a bun. Her eyes are alight in a way that tells him that her dishevelment is intentional when she turns to look at him. He very deliberately gives her a once-over, before settling on a judgmental look. She shrugs, and he's not totally sure if the smile that curls her lips is awkward or just unreadable to him specifically.
"What happened to the clothes you were wearing at breakfast?"
"Threw 'em in the trash," she says, and this expression is definitely tinged with smug satisfaction.
"Fair enough. And your hair? Did you intentionally ruin that, too?"
"Shut up, Donald. I have a strategy to think about."
"You know that's not actually my name, right?"
"You know I don't care, right?" Her voice is high and nasally as she mimics him. Donnie frowns.
"We both know I don't sound like that."
"Yeah? Well that's all I hear when you speak."
"Oh, children!" Atomo's voice breaks through their bickering. Donnie groans. "I'm so glad to see you're both here! It's always refreshing to have tributes eager to arrive!"
Neither of them respond, instead falling silent and sullen. It's better than acknowledging her cheerful ignorance. She chatters on, oblivious or maybe just too stubborn to acknowledge their icy response to her presence. The only time she finally gets the response she seems to want so much is when she crows, "Here comes the Capitol!"
Kendra and Donnie practically shove each other to the ground as they both race to the windows to get their first look at the city that wants them dead. She feels almost feverishly hot as she presses close to him so they can both look. He hadn't realized just how short she is until now, when they're side by side and her sharp chin just barely grazes his shoulder each time she turns her head to try to see better.
The Capitol rises from the clear water surrounding it like a citadel of ivory and silver, so bright it almost hurts to look at it. It is beautiful in a way that makes his stomach churn, the reflection in the water pale and ghostlike as they race closer and closer towards its sparkling fangs. He holds his breath as they breach the city's edge, the sun swallowed up by the shadows cast by the towering monoliths this place is comprised of. His hands curl tight around the sill and he feels Kendra trembling beside him as they travel deeper and deeper into the strange city.
"It's so clean," Kendra mutters, sounding unnerved. He understands why.
The white walled buildings and pale grey streets stretch in every direction, not a pothole or speck of mud anywhere. The blue reflection of the sky in the windows and the sun shining off the metal are the only colors he can find among the architecture, and even those feel like a pale imitation, like they've been drained of any life and only the husks of something once vibrant remain. There is no trace of the familiar warmth of their District. No hot sand or white capped waves. Nothing green or yellow or brown grows from the ground here. He doesn't see a single bird or squirrel or stray cat. This place is sterile and lifeless, and the realization that the Capitol cannot support life on its own and thus must leech it from the districts it controls sends a jolt down his spine.
They laud their power so much, controlling those deemed lower in the hierarchy with such absolute authority, he's not sure why he never stopped to think about why they're so desperate to maintain control of the districts. It makes sense, though; they'd be completely helpless without their support.
The laugh that catches in his throat is bitter to the point of painful. This knowledge that they're helpless on their own but that their control is so complete that none will dare to question it burns. The people of the Capitol would starve in a matter of weeks if not for the districts that supply them. No wonder they've kept the Hunger Games around for so long. No wonder no one but those slated for death are allowed to venture from their districts long enough to realize it. Fear is their only power, and the worst part of it all is that it works perfectly.
"We just got here," Kendra says from beside him, her snide voice breaking him from his thoughts. "You cracking already?"
The laugh actually escapes this time, high and a little manic. She takes a step away, like she's worried he's about to attack her. He shakes his head but manages to choke out, "Maybe a little bit."
"Fair enough," she says, still keeping herself just out of arms reach from him.
"Here come your adoring new fans!" Atomo cries as she steps closer, shoving Kendra so she's positioned right next to Donnie again. "Wave! This is your first chance to make a good impression. Wave!"
They both start waving just as an explosion of eye searing color appears outside their window. The Capitol citizens are just as vibrant and unsettling as Atomo and the others that have visited District Four before. Bodies painted with neon yellows and pinks and greens, frills of lace and chiffon, cuts and silhouettes no one could do an honest day's work in, talons and feathers and whiskers, eyes unnatural and mouths stretched wide wide wide as they smile and shout and wave with an almost childish excitement at their newest source of entertainment.
"Those are some of the most hideous outfits I've ever seen," Donnie grits out between his teeth, mouth still stretched into a rictus smile and hand still jerking robotically side to side at the wild eyed crowds. "The cloaks are nice though. You think they'll give me one while we're here?"
"Maybe if you ask nicely," his fellow tribute says, then curses as Atomo shoves herself between them, arm slung over each of their shoulders in a motion that is far friendlier than Donnie can stand, and all but shouts, "We can certainly arrange that!"
By the time they leave the train, hop in a car, and make it all the way to the Tributes' apartment building, Atomo has somehow managed to procure him a cloak. It's black velvet with a silky white inner lining and a hood trimmed in black and white fur. It's the most luxurious thing he's ever worn, and he can practically feel Kendra's jealous gaze burning a hole into the back of it. It's probably the best he's felt all this trip.
It billows behind him as the doors to the lobby swing wide, welcoming them into the rich blue interior. A well lit bar shimmers nearby, and Atomo Grey gasps and makes a beeline for it when she spots a man dressed just as ridiculously as she is sitting among its elegant barstools. Gold fixtures and trimmings sparkle in the moody lighting, and the ceilings are so tall they disappear into shadow high above them.
In contrast, the pair of children standing by the elevator look very, very small.
The District Three tributes look even younger in person than they did on screen. They watch Donnie and Kendra approach with wide eyes, shuffling back until their backs are pressed to the wall beside the golden elevator doors. They're holding hands, gripping onto one another so tightly that their fingers are mottled red.
"Oh, calm down," Kendra snaps at them as they come to stand just a few feet away. She cocks a hip and crosses her arms, and both of the children flinch as if afraid she's about to start swinging a knife at them. The girl is all but snarling at them, eyes darting between them like a cornered animal. "We don't give a shit about you. We're just trying to get to our floor, too."
"We're on the fourth floor," Donnie adds. It's a subtle way to let them know that they're not Careers, though maybe that's too much to process for their little preteen brains. The girl's eyes narrow behind her thick glasses, and she steps forward a little bit, as though to shield the other tribute from view.
"You volunteered," she says, voice high and squeaky and full of accusation. Donnie rolls his eyes.
"Mhm, sure did. My brother's name got called, then my idiot twin volunteered for him, and then I volunteered for him. Got it? Good. Can you stop blocking the elevator now? I'd like to go check out the accommodations I'll be spending my last days in."
"Preferably before our escort tries to join us." Kendra turns to him then and asks, "Do you think we could lock her out?"
"Only in our sweetest dreams."
The girl blinks owlishly at the two of them, seemingly baffled as she turns his words over in her little mind. Behind her, the boy peeks over her shoulder to stare as well. His brown eyes are sparkling, and when he smiles he reveals a missing front tooth. The few bites of breakfast Donnie'd had on the train fester in his stomach. He wishes he'd skipped the meal.
"Hi! I'm Gizmo," the boy says, then wheezes when the girl elbows him in the gut. He shoves her back before adding, a little breathlessly, "And this is Digi!"
"You dummy!" Digi hisses, trying to elbow him again. He sidesteps it with an ease that makes Donnie suspect that these two may have been friends long before their names were called. More bad luck. Surprisingly, it is his companion that responds before he can think of anything to say.
"The name is Kendra," she drawls, sticking a hand out. Neither of them shake it, but that doesn't seem to bother her. Her lips are pulled into a sharp edged grin as she withdraws her hand to instead jerk a thumb towards Donnie. "This is Hortense."
"Were you even trying that time?!" Donnie cries, throwing his hands up before pausing. "Well, actually, if I were a girl who got the chance to grow into an old woman, that is the name I'd choose. I'll give it to you this time."
All three of his compatriots are staring at him now. The girl's mouth is hanging open a little while the boy just continues to smile delightedly. He wonders if the kid has actually wrapped his head around the fact that he'll be dead in less than a week. Judging from the fact he's smiling like that at someone who may very well be the cause of his death, Donnie would bet the answer is no. It's probably too much nuance for his tiny peabrain to muddle through.
"WHO DARES TO THREATEN MY TRIBUTES?" a voice roars, and at the same moment that Donnie realizes his arms are still raised in a way that could maybe come off as menacing, he gets hit by what he's pretty sure must be a speedboat.
I hope you liked it! Comments are always appreciated. I'd love to hear any thoughts or theories! They make me happy and keep me inspired to write.
See you again next week!
