Day Twenty-Seven: Regret

"Remember your promise."

How could he not remember, when he was sat down opposite a dewy-eyed blonde with a very simple message for him.

"I fucked up. You know Peri's my little sister, yes?" That's Citrine, leaning in with a frown drawn onto painted lips. "Gloss. You have a sister. Cashmere, I know her. Sponsoring her next year if all goes to plan." This shouldn't terrify him. Shouldn't make him want to scream and slam his fist into her face and forget that this is the young woman who just two years ago all but broke the boy from Two over her knee and red wasn't just on her it was roaring off her in sheer blind rage. But the idea of Cashmere, Cash, going into that Arena and knowing that she'll probably never come out?

Well, it's the first he's heard of it. It's the first he was willing to hear of it. Not the last. "Gloss, I need you to do something for me." Citrine offers a smile, seductively coy for a moment frozen in time and then more genuine. Pink now. "What?" No, he shouldn't be so willing to hear her out because he can almost call what she's going to say, but either way he has to. This is a visit. "I need you to die for her."

Shit.

"Why?" "Because she's my sister." Citrine offers a smile, wet and terrified even if she's trying to keep herself composed because Gloss is from One. He knows when someone's acting, and sure as rain falls on Four she's acting all composed. "I love her. More than my sunlight, equal with Mink because you know I have to say Mink and don't you dare." And when Citrine and Mink have been visiting his classes for the last year, he knows that must mean a strong love. "So you go in. You support her, carry Peri to the end and then go down so that I get my sister back."

"What do I get in return?" She said deal, not demands. Citrine has to offer something, and to her credit she does. "Cashmere. She'll be safe." Safe? She hasn't been safe since the moment Gloss convinced them to go to the Spire at Eight, and so this raises questions. "Safe from... Yes. She wants to go into the Games, I have my ways. She'll win. She wants to go work, I know people, Good jobs are hard to come by, and I'll make sure that she comes by them because it'd be the least I could do. She'd be fine, whatever happened. Most I can offer, but it's good, yes?"

It is good. But when Gloss tears his attention from the sparks around her, pink and green and red, he can only give one answer. "How?" "I have my ways. People I know, one night flings and something more. Victor money goes a long way as well, not as much as company but a fair second place. She'll be fine, Gloss. More than fine. The Bonsaint Family would lose one, yes, but one would win. Win life. Deal?"

She outstretches a gloved hand, gold and purple flashing on it. It seems trustworthy, very trustworthy, and after a moment he seizes it and shakes. The purple and gold flashes off in excited patterns, and for a moment Gloss Bonsaint can convince himself that everything's fine, that he's free and that nobody never is going to take the fact that he's just secured the survival of his sister, his perfect sister away from him.

Gloss fucked up.

Bad. Really bad.

"Thank you Gloss!" That was Peridot, wrapping her arms around him and bouncing back with a smile. She's been nice to him. Her sister as well, even if that sister's been in a control center half a world away. Sword in hand she smiles, taking a look at the halves. Half of all remaining for him, half for her. It's not much. Some dried fruit, some water, some chocolate. Hardly a hearty meal, especially not like back home. But it's what's left, and Gloss hasn't mentioned the pill that came down in a box with a little note. It was marked for poison relief, and in an instant he was sure it was meant for Peri but she was turned. It was the work of an instant to palm the pill, to promise that no Citrine hadn't sent anything past the chocolate.

"Remember your promise."

There's green rolling off her, a contented green, a happy green. Peridot's ready to take on the world, the silver sword is ready in her hand. "We should get going. Still a march to the Cornucopia, and we should." She gives a whimpering yelp, and he feels the sting after a minute too. The scorpion is already dissolving into ash on the ground, and they need to get going. There's a counter in the air, twenty minutes. Assumedly to death, and that counter doesn't change when they run. A good thing, when it could be pumping venom round their body even faster when exerting themselves.

Peri's the first to see Six and Eight. To rush them, a tad slower than normal, Gloss as well but he's fast as ever. It must be the venom, and the flash of why the pill works strikes him as he's drawn to fight Six. Gets the advantage, driving a straight sword through Six's chest because Six is weakening.

Peri and Eight are slowing down. He hurts, but the sting can't have been that bad and now Gloss is watching Eight stab Peri through the chest. He stabs Eight. The cannon roars. Then trumpets.

He regrets it all as he's drawn to the hovercraft, because the scorpion sting must have affected it. Must have seen Peri weakened. When he gets off, is wheeled into the medical room, the stinging slap before the Twos, Terce and Enobaria drag a red-soaked Citrine away is enough for him to regret his decision. Realize what he's done, expect he'll be like this next year. The regret fades with time, doesn't end but fades. He spends time helping Cash, making sure she's ready.

When Cashmere runs forward the next year, and Citrine looks at him with genuine hatred roaring off her in ashen black, the regret throbs in his chest like stinging throbs of stings that went in an instant when the Capitol woke him.

Author's Note

Gloss with that aura synesthesia because that poor, poor boy needs something. Really broke your promise and I can't blame you.