august.
Invincible Gaultier, 19
They/Them
It took a week of asking, but Vince finally got to go outside.
It didn't end up being the complaints about needing vitamin D ("We have windows," Mallory had pointed out) or the desire for a tan ("Getting set on fire didn't tan you enough?" Dimitri had replied) or begging for fresh air ("Again, windows,") that got them out the front door. The solution ended up being far, far worse than that.
"Please take them outside," Jem said through gritted teeth. "Or my head will explode."
Dimitri gave Vince a sidelong glance. "And you won't try to run off."
"Nowhere to run to," Vince said, trying to be cheery in spite of their irritation that Jem was being listened to.
Several long-suffering sighs later, Vince was outside that goddamn farmhouse for the first time in weeks. They had never been big into nature, but it suddenly felt so good to be somewhere else that they found themself marveling at stupid things. Dirt, grass, wind. Basic stuff.
And it was noisy, too. No more stale, silent air. There were bugs screeching and breeze in their ears and grass blades tangling together. They could think more clearly out here.
Dimitri let Vince loiter outside while he worked in the yard. The Ten Victors kept a large garden outside, which Vince sometimes watched Dimitri or Mallory work in out of sheer boredom. Dimitri was soon knee-deep in the weeds, his sleeves rolled up to the elbows. Vince found a nice-looking patch of short grass nearby and stretched out on it until they were comfortable, being careful not to irritate their still-tender burns as they moved.
"No interest in helping?" Dimitri asked.
"Maybe next time," Vince said, not insincerely. It would at least be something to do. "I'm having a nice moment here."
Dimitri huffed and went back to work.
They had the instinct to close their eyes and drift off, but they didn't. They kept their eyes open, staring at the clouds that crossed the sky. It was stupidly satisfying to watch them from a different angle- the ground, instead of out the window. They weren't really one for laying on the ground, before all this. Dirt and germs and discomfort and all that. Not to mention what their father would think.
They smirked. If Father could see-
The smirk slipped away as quickly as it had come.
"So," Dimitri said, breaking the quiet between them. Vince was oddly grateful. "Been meaning to ask you about something."
"Yeah?" Vince replied, eyes on the sky.
Dimitri cleared his throat, hesitating. Vince had to wait one breath, then two, then three, before the man got the words out. "I, ah… it's about Rumi."
Every second they'd spent training their instincts over the years abandoned them in a rush. Vince flinched, hard. "What?"
"Rumi was my tribute," Dimitri said. "I, uh, I was their Mentor. Mal was Chevre's."
Huh. That… that was right. That made sense. Why hadn't they put that together before now?
"It doesn't change anything," Dimitri continued. "But I wanna know what happened."
Vince couldn't look at him. "You don't know?"
"No," Dimitri answered. "They never told us."
"But-" Vince said. The words weren't coming smoothly, and they didn't like it. "It, you know, it all came out. In the arena."
From the corner of their eye, they could see Dimitri's silhouette shaking its head. "We were behind by a couple hours," he told them. "Because of what happened to Rumi. They wanted to edit shit out like they always do."
"From the live recordings?"
Dimitri gave a derisive snort. "'Live's' a word for it, sure."
Vince didn't know what to say to that.
"Look," Dimitri said. "It- it's been keepin' me up at night. I don't know what I could've done different. I failed him somehow, and- I know there's somethin' in the fucking water in this District, but he didn't even have a chance. Rumi should've had a chance. I gotta know what I should do different, next time. If you can get that."
Vince exhaled. "I…"
"I know it was your room," Dimitri said. "Word in the Mentor's room was that it was you. Eventually heard it wasn't, and, well, you wouldn't be here if it was you. But I think you know."
"I do," Vince said.
"Then talk to me."
Vince swallowed. Their eyes felt glued to the sky, their entire body frozen in place.
(Why were they acting like this? It wasn't like death was new. They were innocent in Rumi's murder, even; why did this cling harder than the blood on their own hands?)
The words stumbled out of their mouth one by one.
"I wasn't gone long. Only a few minutes, I swear. When I came back he was on the ground. There was a lot of blood on my carpet. They couldn't speak. She looked scared- really, really scared. I… I didn't know what to do. It was so quiet and I couldn't think at all. I tried to make the blood stop but it didn't work. They- died, she just straight up died right there," they said, and they could see it all- Rumi's body, the blood, the drinks on the floor- in the swirling clouds. "And then Tiss came in. She saw me with him. She got the Peacekeepers. I didn't do it. I really didn't."
(They weren't ready. The Games hadn't started. There were no cameras, no lights, no weapon in their hand.)
"Who did?" Dimitri asked. His voice was calmer than Vince had expected.
"Brizo," Vince said, their mouth dry. "I thought m-maybe Mercury, but Tiss figured it out. I don't remember how. They were fighting. I helped her kill him. And that was the end of it."
They could feel Dimitri's eyes on them. "He confessed?"
"Not in words," Vince said. "But it was him."
Dimitri was quiet for a few breaths. "So we'll never know why."
"There was something wrong with him," Vince said. "That's as much as I care to know."
"Damn," Dimitri said quietly.
"Yeah," Vince said. "Tiss probably knows more. I'd ask her."
"Phones are bugged," Dimitri said. "Besides, she's not gonna talk to me."
This, of all things, snapped Vince back to themself. They pushed themself up on their elbows, twisting to look at Dimitri. The man had paused his gardening, and a small pile of weeds sat a foot away from his boot. "Why wouldn't she talk to you?"
"She's not interested. Made that clear." Dimitri tilted his head, giving Vince a long look. "She doesn't talk to anybody."
"Yes, she does," Vince said. "She talks to everyone. Even people she shouldn't. Especially people she shouldn't."
Dimitri shook his head. "She hung up on me."
"What?"
"And Mallory," he said. "And Sienna, and Grover, and everyone else, far as I know."
"Why?" Vince demanded.
Dimitri hesitated. "Don't know-"
"That doesn't make sense," they interrupted.
Dimitri raised his hands in surrender. "I don't know her, okay?" he said. "I've never even met her."
"Something's wrong, though," they said.
"Yeah. You're probably right," Dimitri said. "But I don't know."
"Call her again," Vince insisted.
"Vince-"
"Please," they interrupted.
"I-"
"I told you about Rumi," Vince said. They could hear themself getting desperate, but they couldn't stop it. "I've never told anyone before."
"She'll hang up on me," Dimitri told them. "I'll call. But I'm telling you what'll happen."
Another idea occurred to them. "Can I watch it?"
Dimitri's eyes widened a hair. "The Games?"
"Yes," they said. "I- I need to know what happened after. Something must've happened."
(Something bad.)
(Probably Bastet related, if they had to take a guess.)
"We don't have a TV," Dimitri pointed out.
"Fuck!" Vince dropped back against the ground, rubbing their eyes.
They heard Dimitri shift. When they pulled their hands away from their eyes, he was sitting next to them in the grass. The sky hung above them, broad and blue and endless.
"You care about her," Dimitri said, his voice quiet.
Vince found their gaze captured by the clouds again, their body stiffening. "She was my friend," they answered.
"It was only a few days," he replied. "She's safe, now. You can relax."
A laugh broke through their lips, sharp and bitter. "Yeah. Right."
(But Dimitri was right- it was only a few days the two of them had spent together. Even fewer that they'd been alone, just the two of them. So why the fuck was that what they missed? They didn't think about home, or their glory in the arena- what they kept coming back to were those days with her. The most dangerous, vulnerable days of their entire life. Why?)
"She's safe," Dimitri said. His voice was unusually gentle. "So are you."
"Hard to believe."
"I know." Dimitri took a long, deep breath. "Have trouble with that one myself sometimes."
"But you won."
"I did."
"Then why-"
Dimitri shrugged. "Just how it is sometimes," he said, anticipating Vince's question. "Some days are hard, and other days are harder."
For the second time, Vince had no reply.
"Thanks for lettin' me know about Rumi," Dimitri told them. "I've got more questions, of course, but we can save that for another time. Any chance you've changed your mind about weeding?"
"No," Vince murmured.
"Alright," Dimitri said, and then he was pushing off the ground and walking the few steps back toward the garden.
Vince listened to him as he got back to work, tearing roots from earth, ripping more than a few leaves as he went. The Victor from Ten was far from graceful. Vince didn't mind.
Jem Piper, 17
He/Him
As Vince's leash lengthened, their trips outside slowly lasting longer and longer, Jem was finally alone. Vince went outside, and Jem could retreat. He could find a corner of the house and hole up with his thoughts without interruption. It didn't feel good, but it felt better than being with Vince. It felt… deserved.
But the third time he did it, someone came to interrupt him. Again.
It wasn't Vince, at least.
"Jem? Is that you?"
Mallory stood at the top of the stairs, peering down the hall. Jem had wedged himself into a corner at the other end, his head resting against the windowpane on the far wall.
"Yeah," Jem muttered.
To his dismay, she walked down the hall toward him, wearing an expression that Jem had come to learn meant she was concerned. "Something going on?"
"No," Jem answered, which was true.
"You look upset."
Jem shrugged.
Mallory took a seat on the floor opposite him, her back against the wall. She just looked at him for a while, but Jem didn't feel the need to fill the silence.
Mallory eventually did. "I'm worried about you, you know." She nudged his uninjured foot with her shoe.
"I know."
"It's not good to think about the Games all the time," she said.
"I'm not-"
"I can see you doing it," she said. "I was in the arena only a few years ago. I remember how it feels."
Jem's shoulders sagged, and he looked away. "There's lots to think about," he mumbled.
"Your friends?"
"Yeah," he answered.
She nodded a little. "I still think about mine too. They have a funny way of sticking with you."
"Funny," Jem repeated, unbelieving.
"Didn't know them very long," Mallory explained. "For me, it was less than two weeks. But they… they hang on, somehow."
"It's different," Jem said.
"You and your allies are different from me and mine?" Mallory asked.
"Yeah."
"How?" she asked.
(Chevre bleeding True breaking Jest turning away Jude's eyes slipping shut Tomo falling Wisdom disappearing)
He closed his eyes. "I let them down," he murmured. It was hard to get the words out. He didn't know why- he'd told himself this plenty of times in his head already.
"So did I," Mallory said.
"I gave them false hope."
"I let one die and killed the other," Mallory said.
Jem's eyes popped open, shocked, and he found Mallory still watching him. "What?"
"Seems a lot worse than some hope," she said. He couldn't read her expression. Definitely not pleased, but still… calm.
"It got them killed," Jem said. "I told them to hope and they listened to me and followed me and they're dead because of me. All of them."
"Jem," Mallory said, "you can't take responsibility for all of that."
"That's what happened," he insisted, and he could feel his eyes getting hot. Fuck, he didn't want to cry. He was so sick of crying.
"You know," Mallory said, "Chevre and I had a long conversation about you, before the Games started."
"...What?"
"She had her doubts," Mallory continued. "Chevre was really, really smart. And she had her doubts. Including about you."
"Really?"
She nodded. "Oh, yeah," she answered. "She wasn't sure of your judgment. She spent a long time talking things through with me before deciding to join you."
"Oh." Jem swallowed. "I didn't know."
"Chevre was smart," Mallory repeated. "Joining your alliance was her choice. She had free will."
"Yeah, but I got her hurt-"
"She was going to get hurt no matter what," Mallory interrupted. "Every tribute does."
"I got her tortured."
Mallory's eyes were shining now. "You attacked her?" she asked. "You beat her for hours? You poured alcohol on the wounds and laughed?"
Jem's throat was tight. "I- no, but- but I-"
"Tributes would've wanted her dead either way," Mallory said. "They would've come after you if you were allies or not."
"I made her a target."
"She was always a target, Jem," Mallory said. "Ever since her name was pulled."
"But it's my fault-"
"It's not," Mallory said. Her cheeks flared pink, and Jem lost a little resolve as she got heated. "It's not her fault she was in that situation. It's not either of your faults that she didn't make it out. She was Reaped. She died. It was awful, but that's what happened."
"She was my friend," Jem said. "I should've kept her safe."
"You never could," Mallory answered. "Neither of us could."
His voice started to crack. "But I wanted to."
"So did I," Mallory said.
Tears were falling down his cheeks now. He made no move to stop them.
"But that doesn't mean you can put all that on yourself," Mallory said.
His words were ragged through the tears. "I didn't have to give 'em false hope," he said. "That was cruel. Shouldn't have done it."
"What about it was false?"
"All of it!" Jem replied. "There wasn't any to start with and then they got let down. Made their lives harder and deaths worse. I gave 'em pain."
Then his shoulders were heaving, and he was crying too hard to talk anymore. Mallory scooted closer, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. He leaned against her and she let him, softly smoothing his tears away as they came. He cried hard, but not for long. He'd done too much of it lately to cry for very long.
"Can I tell you something?" Mallory asked, her voice low. One arm still cupped his scabbed-over back.
Jem gave a small nod.
"When I went into the Games," she said, "I was seventeen, and I thought I was gonna die. People told me I would, so I accepted it. Sometimes it was good. It let me take risks, right? No harm in doing something crazy if I would die anyway. But I would do reckless things. Stupid things. I kept getting hurt because of it.
"But then," she continued, "I had this friend. She believed in me, and she convinced me to believe in myself."
She met his eyes. "I wouldn't have fought hard enough to get out without hope," she said, and he could see her getting teary-eyed, too. "I would be dead without hope."
"I…" Jem trailed.
"It's not false hope just because it didn't work out," Mallory went on. "You weren't lying to them or leading them on. You helped them fight for themselves. You helped make whatever time they had left more bearable because of that. And… and I think any of them would be glad to know that your life didn't end with theirs."
(He thought of True, taking care of him on the very first day. He thought of Jude grinning at him before disappearing into the shadows. Jest's shy smiles, the gleam in Chevre's eye, Wisdom's brow furrowed with concentration, Tomo's stubbornness.)
"I'd like to think so," he said softly.
(They'd debated and argued plenty along the way- but out of fear, not hate. The friendships were always real. The hope was, too. Maybe that was why everything hurt so much now.
He couldn't help but think none of his allies would want him dead just because they were. Even Wisdom.)
"See? There you go," Mallory said.
"What?"
She shook her head. "I'm just glad we got to talk," she said.
"Yeah." Jem let his head rest against the window again. "Same, I guess."
"I need a favor from you now."
Jem shrugged. "Okay."
She gave him a hard look. "No more dwelling," she said. "At least for today. No more arena or death or blame. If you need a distraction, I'm never far. But you have to stop thinking about this all the time."
Something in him chafed. "I…"
"It helps no one," she pointed out. "Especially not you."
That was hard to argue with. "Fine," he said. "I'll try."
Mallory smiled. "That's all I'm asking for," she replied. "Now c'mon. Let's get off the floor."