TW: Domestic abuse.
Phillipe Stefan
Age 17
District Five Male
The train screeched to a halt, and Phillipe was jolted awake by the screeching and lurching of the cattle car he had been stuck in for an eternity.
He barely had time to fully wake up before the two Peacekeepers riding with him hauled him to his feet and pulled him towards the exit.
"Are we home?" he asked, dazed.
"You are," one of the peacekeepers replied gruffly. The door slid open and Phillipe was blinded by the sunlight for the first time since he left home.
His hands shook with anticipation and fear as he was led out of the car and onto the empty platform. When the handcuffs were removed from his wrists and he was given his crutches, he felt some of the weight on his chest disappear, but not all of it.
Would his family and friends look at Phillipe differently after what he did?
Would Light even still want him when she woke up?
Yet it felt like a lifetime. It felt like a dream, a series of events that all blurred together.
The only positive thing from all of this was that Light would never have to worry about Mallory again. Neither of them would.
Phillipe just wished that someone else had done it.
It was only five days ago that Light was found crumpled in an alleyway, her body bruised and blood trickling from her head.
Everyone knew it was Mallory who had done it. The girl had always been a bit unhinged, not to mention she was seen bragging about it to her friends, yet when the Peacekeepers confronted her, she was all tears and denying.
Phillipe was already over her, but now, he was both furious and scared. Furious at Mallory for nearly killing the one good thing in his life, and scared that she would come after him, or worse, find Light and finish the job.
That fear overshadowed the fear of the Reaping the next day. Phillipe never watched the Games, they were too gruesome, but he knew what they were. He knew that his ten classmates who were put on that train never came back.
By a stroke of something, the mayor found the slip with Mallory's name on it. To Phillipe, it was divine retribution. She hurt Light and got away with it because they couldn't find proof, even though she gloated about it just before the Reaping.
Then, the mayor called his name too, and Phillipe was left wondering the same thing, if this was what he got for not being able to save Light or worse, for not playing Mallory's game.
"Just like old times?" Mallory asked with a smirk as they were handcuffed.
Phillipe had shuddered. "Not a chance," he had snarled.
If he didn't know better before, he did now.
Her face twisted into an enraged expression. And not for the first time, Phillipe was genuinely scared for his life.
Once upon a time, it was Phillipe and Mallory against the world. He was madly in love, so mad that he saw past the harsh words and mind games and manipulation with rose-tinted glasses. They came from wealthy backgrounds before losing it all during the war. They engaged in some harmless teenage rebellion to cope. They stole, vandalized, and ran wild and free. They had a tumultuous on-again-off-again relationship, but Phillipe thought he was okay with that, that that was just one of Mallory's quirks. Mallory's latest sudden breakup speech was over something so small Phillipe couldn't remember what it was.
As usual, Phillipe was devastated. Normally when she dumped him, he'd come crawling back and beg her to take him back. He was so lovesick, he couldn't see how messed up it all was.
Phillipe didn't have long to think about it before a school project consumed all of his time.
Light was the niece of the three kind old ladies who ran the tailor shop. She was sweet, kind, gentle, and patient. She was so easy to talk to, and listened when Phillipe suddenly dumped his relationship troubles on her.
"Sounds like you dodged a bullet," Light had said. "Stay away from her. Don't let her hurt you again."
And that was the revelation Phillipe needed. He tried to forget about Mallory, and found he could breathe easily without worrying about the eggshells he was constantly walking on around her.
Throughout the project, the two had gotten closer, and after the project, they grew closer still. Light showed him that he was capable of being a better person. He was capable of finding his own happiness. Months passed. They became best friends. Then, something more than friends.
When Light eventually asked Phillipe on a date, Phillipe said yes.
The date went well, and the two ended up kissing outside Light's house when he dropped her off.
Mallory was finally out of his mind, but little did he know, he was not out of hers.
Phillipe would soon learn that his ex-girlfriend was not just crazy, but murderously so.
Phillipe decided against running for the pile of weapons when the buzzer sounded. Instead, he ran in uneven circles around the arena, stayed moving, and let the other tributes kill each other.
It turned out to be the right thing to do. Many of the twenty-three tributes that made it to the arena went for that pile, and they tore each other apart.
Phillipe kept moving. He quite literally ran for his life. The battle became more spread out as the Games tore on, and a boy came out of nowhere and slammed Phillipe to the ground.
Phillipe gasped in horror when he saw the sword in his hands, hauntingly red liquid dripping off of it and leaving crimson droplets in his wake.
"I'm sorry," was all the boy said before raising the sword.
Then there was a squishy-sounding thud, the boy grunted and fell over, eyes clouded over, a knife in is back.
And Mallory was holding two more. She looked at him, and her face twisted into a sinister rage. "There's one winner!" she screamed. "You'll do anything to save me. I know you would!"
Phillipe looked around wildly, and his blood went cold when he saw the corpses scattered throughout the arena.
It was just him and Mallory now.
Phillipe was getting ready for school when he got a frantic knock on his bedroom door. It was his mother. "You need to get to Light's house," she said frantically. "I'll let the school know you won't be there today, but you need to go now!"
"Why? What's wrong?" Phillipe felt a pit open up in his stomach upon seeing the panicked look on his mother's face.
"Something happened to her last night. I don't know what, but she was pretty badly hurt and it's not looking good. She's in a coma."
Phillipe didn't have to be told twice. He threw on his shoes and without bothering to put on a belt or finish buttoning his shirt, he took off running past his mother and out the door.
Not Light. Anyone but Light.
Phillipe was out of breath by the time he made it to Light's house and knocked on the door.
When one of Light's aunts answered it, she looked exhausted, both physically and emotionally.
"What happened?" Phillipe asked breathlessly.
Mallory frowned at Phillipe. "You know, I was really hoping someone would have taken you out by now. Shame. At least I'll get to make you pay for breaking my heart."
Phillipe's blood went ice cold and his heart began to pound furiously. "You're the one who dumped me, you psycho!" he cried. "I just got tired of crawling back to you!"
"And that's the problem, Phillipe. You just never learn."
Phillipe swallowed hard and prepared himself for whatever came next.
When the first knife came, Phillipe dove out of the way. He scrambled towards the other dead tribute, the one with the sword, and quickly picked it up. It was lighter than he expected.
Mallory threw another knife and then another. Phillipe stayed moving, trying to throw off her aim, but Mallory learned quickly. She always did. The next knife hit his leg, and Phillipe screamed in pain and staggered. He just managed to stay upright, but when he braced himself for the next knife, it never came. Mallory was out of knives. She growled in frustration. "Just give up! Die already! Let me live! You said you'd do anything for me! Just let me kill you!"
Mallory charged forward with a loud cry.
Mallory Turbine, the girl he thought he loved, and who he thought loved him.
The girl who beat Light until she fell into a coma just because she was jealous.
The girl who was now trying to kill Phillipe in that arena without hesitation despite everything they went through together when Phillipe refused to take her back.
Something filled Phillipe. Something animalistic that overrode everything he had ever felt for this girl: a primal need to survive.
Phillipe unleashed a guttural cry and hurled the sword at the oncoming threat.
One moment Mallory was alive.
The next, she was on the ground, the blade further burying itself in her chest as she fell face first, then flopped lifelessly onto her side. Dead and gone.
Never able to hurt anyone again, but still dead by Phillipe's hands.
He dropped to his knees and let out a strangled cry.
A few people stared at Phillipe as he made his way to Light's house. The Peacekeepers were nice enough to tell him that his parents were there, which saved him from the dilemma of who to go to first. He knew they would have met him at the train platform if they could, but he was grateful they stayed with Light and her aunts.
When he arrived, his parents were on the front step, and they both enveloped him in a tight hug. "Phillipe… My baby boy," his mother sobbed. "I'm so sorry."
Phillipe hugged them both back tightly. "How is she?" he asked.
"Still unconscious," his father replied sadly. "We pooled our money together, and got her a proper doctor. She'll live but…he doesn't know if she'll wake up or not."
Phillipe sighed sadly, too exhausted to do much else. "Can I see her?" he asked quietly.
His mother pulled away gently and nodded. "Her aunts are waiting for you, actually." His father supported him so that he would not need his crutches. When Light's eldest aunt saw him, she immediately went to him and hugged him. "Oh, my dear. I'm so glad you're okay. Light's still out, but…I think your being there might help. Merry and Fira are still with her. We'll pull out a chair for you."
"Thank you," Phillipe said in a hoarse whisper.
"Are you alright, dear? I know…we watched what happened."
"I'll be fine," Phillipe replied.
That wasn't entirely true. Phillipe wasn't sure if he'd ever be fine again.
Phillipe was eased into the room with Light and helped into a chair. His leg ached and throbbed, but it was manageable. When he was offered a small dose morphling for the pain though, he accepted.
Everyone else left the room after that, probably to give Phillipe a moment alone with Light. The bruises on her face, shaped horribly like Mallory's shoes, were fading slowly, but they still stood out on her pale skin. A harsh reminder that Phillipe had only been gone for a few days.
Phillipe reached for her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I'm sorry, Light…" he said softly. "This is all my fault…"
Tears welled in his eyes. "I just hope you can forgive me. For all of it."
Then, he leaned down and kissed Light on the forehead. "I love you Light. I love you so much."
The dam broke, and Phillipe began to sob. He rested his head on the side of the bed and cried.
A few minutes later, a weak, shaky hand brushed against his hair. "I…love you too…"
Phillipe shot upward, tears still dripping down his face.
And saw that Light's eyes were slightly open. And she was smiling.
The two recovered from their ordeals, slowly but surely, and together.
The doctor was shocked at how quickly Light was able to talk and hold a conversation. Light credited Phillipe for that.
Light confirmed that it was Mallory who had attacked her, and was afraid she had gone after him too when she saw Phillipe's leg.
It was that moment that Phillipe had to gently break the news to her.
Light was horrified to learn that Phillipe had been in the Hunger Games, even more so when she learned that he had been forced to kill Mallory.
"I keep telling myself that it was her or me. That she was the one who attacked me, but…" Phillipe started to cry all over again. "Why do I feel this way? After everything she did to you! To us!"
Light reached out and cupped his face. "You have every right to feel the way you do, Phillipe. You killed someone you used to love. I can't even imagine what that must have felt like."
"Do you hate me?"
Light looked shocked at the question, and tears of her own welled up in her eyes. "I could never hate you, Phillipe. I love you. Give it time, okay?"
Her words should have made Phillipe feel better, but they didn't. Light was right.
He had killed someone he used to love, and that would never leave him.
Well, that was an emotionally wrecking write. And yes, Phillipe and Light are based on Prince Phillip and Princess Aurora. Yeah, with the whole spindle, District Eight would have made more sense, but I wanted to give Five an early victor, so here we are. I've been playing too much Disney Dreamlight Valley...
I jumped around the timeline here, but the broken, blurred, and out-of-order sequence of events worked for Phillipe's mindset. He's definitely one of the more traumatized of the first victors but I can confirm he and Light stayed together.
I will try to get one more chapter of ASM out before VE starts up, but once it does, I'll be focusing on that, so if ASM goes quiet, that's why.