Post-Chariots
-Gus Proctor, 16, District 10-
It was a nightmare.
Every single second of this was a nightmare. He would have gone to twenty of Dean's weddings before he would do this again. It felt like an eternity that he was on this chariot, being exposed and paraded around to all these people. He could feel their eyes on him. He couldn't escape it.
She was screaming, the crowds were screaming, everyone was screaming. Spotlights shone in his face, drumbeats shook the chariot, and it was so loud that Gus felt like he was going to blow chunks. The movement was little to comfort him as he just prayed with each coming second for it to be over.
Gus didn't move his hands from his ears. He didn't even move to open his eyes by the end. He felt hot emotions swirling deep in his tummy and he had to do everything to keep from screaming himself. He only got one chance to make a first impression. And he was a damn Proctor, of course he knew how important first impressions were. He could hear his mother's voice in his head. Normal people didn't have a fit and ruin their only first impression.
By some miracle their chariot slowed and he could feel the motion coming to a stop. His ears were still roaring, and it took him a moment to realize that the doors had closed, they were back in the loading room, and it was over.
It was over, but he wasn't calm. He couldn't calm down. The emotions were too strong, he couldn't control them, hell he could barely even name them. He wasn't ready to calm down. He wasn't ready to go back out there, face people, and have to awkwardly chuckle when they told him how poorly he did. He was so tired of just nodding at them and letting them run their fucking mouths.
But were they wrong? No.
So he didn't bother fighting.
But boy. He was sick of it.
Gus took a shuddering breath through his mouth as he slowly sunk down. Just for a moment. Then he would get back up. Go out there. Nod and take it just like he was used to. He was used to pulling it back together, but this time was just different. He had never in his life imagined being in front of so many people, for so long, making so. Much. Noise. He still heard it deep in his brain even if it was over now. It didn't feel over.
He took another breath, shaking his whole body with a shudder. He felt dirty from their glances, he felt like he had failed already. Just like he failed at being a groomsman and how he failed at working outside in the heat. What was wrong with him?
Gus pressed his face in his elbow for a moment. Darkness. Quiet. He just needed those things for just a second. But he couldn't get up to get to a place that was quiet.
"Yeah, we sure have a pair of winners." Gus didn't even get to look up before he felt his arm getting grabbed and pulled on.
"Don't fucking touch me!" he snapped, throwing his hand back and with a loud clap, slapping the man in the face, and it worked. They let go of him. Gus stumbled backwards and stared at his mentor, who had a red mark forming on his face.
"Oh you fucking idiot," Chaz spat out, but he was grabbed by Ottile while their escort was going in the chariot.
"Will you cut that out?!" she asked loudly. Gus was seeing red as he stared at the two of them – both of them – for disturbing his peace by pulling him from his moment and now yelling, again.
"I hate this stupid fucking District and its stupid children that can't do anything," Chaz said, reaching up to rub his face. Gus watched his hand moving and saw the red mark forming in the shape of a hand. He didn't mean to do that to his mentor, it just happened. He just wanted to get away from him. He still felt that feeling.
Anger.
It felt hot and red and he could feel it from the bottom of his stomach all the way to the top of his head, like a pressure just waiting to explode. A punch just waiting to be thrown, would that make them all fucking happy!? Look what they did, look what they made him do!
But that wasn't who Gus was.
He wasn't a violent person. He didn't like to hurt people. He could already feel something clawing up his throat looking at the slap mark on Chaz. He had deserved it… Maybe… Gus couldn't control this anger and he didn't want to hurt anyone else. So he just stumbled backwards a little bit. He couldn't do it. He couldn't keep it together. He wasn't like them. So he bolted as soon as he could. He could hear the mentors saying something, but it all blurred together. He just had to find somewhere quiet away from them all. He didn't stop until he hit the wall of the loading area and slumped down against it. Nobody had a reason to go all the way over here.
Gus put his head in his knees as the tears started to form in his eyes. Tears? Why was he sad? He didn't even know anymore. He couldn't put words to it, he could only feel the hot sting in his eyes and the shuddering breaths that overpowered his body when he was just trying to keep his heart beating. It was so hard.
And he just had to wonder how everyone did this all the time. He didn't know. It was something wrong with him in particular. This always happened to him and he still didn't even know why.
Gus was still shaking, from his legs to his lungs to his fists that were grabbing tight handfuls of pants and trying to keep it together. His teeth ached from how tightly he was grinding them together.
"Are you okay?"
Gus heard the voice and started, almost ready to use his fist, before he just took another deep breath that sent his whole body shivering, almost as if he was cold, but he wasn't cold, he was sweating. Was he cold? He was shivering…
"He shouldn't have put his hands on you."
The sentence did a few circles around Gus's brain before he took another breath and realized what the boy was saying. He… Shouldn't have… Put his hands… On you.
"What?" Gus croaked out a little bit, reaching up and digging a fist into his eye that was still stinging.
"I saw it." The boy put down a car seat and sat down in it beside Gus. "Chariot rides were too much, huh?"
"Too much?" Gus asked, but he knew that this other boy was right. It was too much. Ev-ry-thing was too much. What was even the point in contesting? Everyone must have seen that. Now they all had thoughts about Gus and he could feel the shivers starting again at the mere idea that so many people had opinions about him.
"I was going to come help but then the mentors came down." A pause. "You're August, right? I'm Jamir."
"Gus," said Gus, just sighing a little bit. "Yeah. Hi." He stared at the floor. He just wasn't sure what to say to him. He felt awkward at just the notion that he would come here. He didn't like it, it made him uncomfortable that someone else would do that and inconvenience himself this way. For what?
"Oh, I see," said the boy – Jamir – looking somewhat comfortable in his ginormous car seat. "Gus is a better name than August."
"Mhm." He wished this boy would just go away and leave him alone. Then he could know for sure that he wasn't fucking anything else up.
"Do you usually get overwhelmed easily?" he asked, looking over. Gus met his eyes for maybe a moment. He just hated the idea of someone staring at him.
Gus just shrugged a little bit. "Yeah." He knew that he could lie to try and make himself look better, but he'd been reaped. If he couldn't even do a day of work, there was no way he was going to survive this. And honestly, it was just like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders knowing that. It felt like he didn't have to try anymore. He could just spend his last days existing how he pleased. He'd never had that freedom before.
"Don't like eye contact? Get overwhelmed by loud noises or bright lights? Trouble processing emotions? Like keeping a routine?"
"I guess?" Gus asked, not sure why he was saying all of this.
"Oh, so you're probably autistic then."
"What?" Gus asked, squinting his eyes for a moment.
"Yeah," Jamir said, puffing out his chest a little bit. "I should know, my boyfriend is autistic."
"Oh." Gus had so many questions for him but he couldn't really pin down which one he wanted to ask first and just rubbed his fingers together, resisting snapping them.
"Stim! So I'm right!" Jamir said, pointing at his hands.
"Stim?" asked Gus, giving him a weird look.
"Yeah, it's a repetitive action that you do to feel better. Nolan has a few different stims."
"Nolan…"
"My boyfriend," Jamir said with a proud smile.
"Oh."
"Yeah, you should look into that. Labels can be helpful, help us put ourselves in the right places." Jamir nodded at him and then looked up – and Gus followed when he saw someone approaching.
"It's a little late for that now, pal," Gus said with a sigh because this was just too much. He'd heard of autism before but that wasn't him. He wasn't like that. He was a Proctor. He was healthy and well. He was…. He was….
He didn't even know anymore.
Jamir looked up and Gus followed, swearing under his breath when he saw Inspektor coming towards them.
"Oh goody," Jamir said.
"Goody?" Gus asked, scoffing a bit. "Yeah right."
"I was being sarcastic. Another trait of autism-"
"Gus."
"Yeah yeah," said Gus, not sure what he wanted to do – stay or go to what would inevitably be an awkward situation. "I'm going." He knew that he had to apologize to his mentor and he wasn't looking forward to it. But he was the one that did it and he had to own up to it to be respected.
He shouldn't have put his hands on you.
No. Jamir didn't know what he was talking about.
"Well, bye," Jamir said, getting up and kicking the car seat a little bit. "See ya Gus."
"See ya round," Gus said, crossing his arms as he begrudgingly went with his escort. "Why's nobody else's team here?" he asked as he walked with him, feeling like he was back home, walking alongside his father.
"It's not you," Inspektor said. "It's her."
"Uh huh," said Gus blankly. Ottile was standing by the elevator and waiting for them and it made him think back to the ride, taking a deep breath. Oh this was so fucked up.
The elevator ride was silent on the way to the floor as the pictures of the ride flashed in front of his eyes. He was so absorbed in the hellish experience he totally forgot about her. Until now.
When they got up to the floor, noticing it was empty, he bucked up the courage to take a deep breath.
"She didn't need to be tied up with fucking chains."
Ottile looked over at him and Inspektor put a hand on his chest.
"What?" Inspektor asked, and Ottile elbowed him.
"The girl," Gus said.
"Brook."
"Brook?"
"Her name," Ottile said, biting her lip before she pulled the piece of paper out from her pocket and unfolded it. "This was in her pocket. Prep team was gonna pitch it."
"Does she respond to that?" Inspektor said.
"It doesn't matter," Gus said, cutting him off. "She's not an animal you know. She's a girl."
"I know you care," Ottile said, reaching over to put a hand on Gus's shoulder – which he tolerated – and then pulled it off. "I care too. But as someone that isn't your mentor, I'll give you a little bit of advice. Just focus on Gus right now."
Just focus on Gus…
He couldn't do that.
"Is her door still locked?"
"August, this is up to the authorities, not us," Inspektor said.
"I don't even think she can use a doorknob," Ottile said with a frown.
"You can't help her at all?" Gus asked, looking at the door and thinking about how claustrophobic he felt even though those rooms were huge.
Ottile sighed for a moment and sunk down on the couch, patting the spot next to her. Inspektor went over to sit down and she rolled her eyes. "Gus."
"Oh," said Gus, going to sit down on a chair across from her. She leaned over towards him.
"Listen Gus," Ottile said, looking at him. "If you're gonna be a Victor, you're gonna learn this lesson the hard way anyways. Sometimes there are things that we can't control. You're gonna learn to ask the question to yourself of… Is this worth fighting over? Actions have consequences 'round these parts. If ya don't get it now, you'll figure it out the hard way."
"Of course it's worth fighting for, that's your tribute," Gus said right away. "She's a kid. You're supposed to watch out for her! That's your fucking job."
"Don't talk to her that way," Inspektor said right away, and Ottile put up a hand to stop him.
"My one and only job is to do what I'm told," she said. "And I like you, so you're gonna have to learn it and live it if you want to get out of here." She sighed a little bit. "Sometimes there are things that aren't right that you just can't fix. Doesn't make you a bad person when you don't have a choice."
"You always have a choice," Gus said, thinking back to all the times his Dad said that, expecting him to make the right one.
Ottile just gave a smile and patted her legs, getting up and looking at him for one more moment. "You'll learn someday," she said. Then she turned and walked back towards the bedrooms and Inspektor followed.
Gus watched them go for a moment and took a deep breath. This wasn't right. None of this was right. It was all… It was all fucked up.
He went to the kitchen and poured a glass of water as he milled about this for a moment and slowly started walking back towards the bedrooms. After a quick stop in his own to change, he still had that cup of water sitting there, untouched. After a moment, he couldn't take it anymore. So he slipped out. The hallways were empty, the hollow eyes of a couple Avoxes watching them as Gus went to the right room and slowly turned the lock, opening the door.
He wasn't supposed to… He didn't care.
"Brook?"
The girl was nowhere to be found. Gus found a lamp to turn on and looked around the room. Then, he looked in the closet. Sure enough, against the back wall, there she was, huddled up in a small ball and looking around with a scared expression.
"Brook. It's me, Gus." She looked at him making noise, but didn't seem to understand. So what? She was still a human being. He got closer and held up the water. "Want some water?" he asked in a nice soft voice. He held the glass out a little bit. Her eyes were still wide, but she slowly started toward him, crawling on all fours. When she got close, she stopped, looking at him and cupping her hands in front of her. Gus poured the water in her hands carefully, and jumped a little bit when she started lapping it up right away, with no care how messy she got from it.
Gus watched this for a moment. He had no idea what she must have been through, but in that moment, she was drinking water and she was… Happy. She held her hands out again and Gus poured more water into them. "There you go." She lapped it up and then looked back at him for a moment.
"Still thirsty? I'll go get you more," he said, getting up and walking towards the bathroom. He felt a brush on the back of his leg and noticed that she was crawling after him. "Oh," he said with a small smile. "Okay," he said, and turned on the sink. When the water flowed, she made a bit of a howl and covered her face, moving back a little bit. "Oh, it's okay," he said, turning back towards her. She peeked up at him and looked unsure. He held up the glass again. She slowly came back towards him, staring untrustingly at the cold tile. Gus let her approach and when she got closer, he held the glass out to her. She leaned back away from it for a moment and then slowly moved closer. Gus gently took her hand and wrapped it around the cup, doing the same with her other hand. "Careful," he said, gently pushing the cup up towards her lips.
She moved it quickly and spilled water all over her face, making him jump and stare for a second. She didn't seem bothered by it and just stared at the glass.
"Here, let's try again," he said, reaching out to take the glass, but she put the glass in her hand and started crawling away with it quickly, vocalizing and mumbling as she went to herself. Gus watched her go for a moment before he just smiled a little bit. Maybe he would get to help her with that another day. But at least he could do something to help her.
"Okay," he said with a hint of a smile. "Keep it then." He got up and moved towards the door, looking behind him one last time, but she had already hidden herself again. "Good night, Brook."
He slipped out of the room, greeted by the quiet, dark hallway once more. He closed the door slowly and made sure nobody stirred. Then, he stared at the lock for a moment.
Actions have consequences round these parts.
He didn't know what those consequences were. But the way she said that made him realize that it was serious.
You always have a choice. He stared at the lock for a moment. He had nothing to lose, right? Nothing left to go for? He was done. That was what he said.
But there was something deep inside him that knew that he wasn't truly done. That he did want to live. He did want to get out of here.
Learn it.
Live it.
He didn't want their hands on him again.
He didn't want their hands on her. He didn't want to get in trouble. He didn't want to cause himself or her any more pain or suffering because he didn't listen.
Gus Proctor knew what happened when you didn't follow the rules.
He knew what happened when he failed to meet his Dad's expectations.
He knew what happened when he acted in ways that other people didn't like.
Who cares? In just a few days I'll be dead. Everyone back home thinks so. Everyone here thinks so. Everyone knows it. I should do what I think is right so I can die peacefully.
He took a deep breath, staring at the door, thinking about the girl on the other side, and the death match he was going to get thrown into in such a short amount of time.
He thought about the feeling of slapping his mentor, the pain he had caused, the fear of causing pain to others.
He thought about himself, how weak he was, and how he could never just handle things like a normal person. And…
Click.
He turned the lock back into its place.
Guess he wasn't really ready to give up just yet.
~.~.
-Astra Kaminsky, 18, District 3-
Why oh why did it have to be a fucking jumpsuit? She was mortified.
Did nobody see her body!? Well now everyone saw her fucking body. They saw the things she usually covered. How arched her back was, how flat her ass was, how her gut jutted out. If that wasn't already disconcerting enough, she was now being surrounded by literal starving children. Did they all notice? Were they all looking at her?
How foolishly selfish of her to think that any of them were looking at her. Nobody noticed her. She was somehow both remarkably unimpressive and stuck out like a sore thumb, and she didn't know which one it was. She was just the girl that lived in the background and that was all she ever knew. Things didn't change in a day. Hell, they didn't change at all. That was how she ended up here, right? The shittiest luck. Just when she thought maybe things would get better, they never really do, do they? She had completely plateaued. Hit the wall. And this was one wall that she wasn't going to be able to scale.
Look at her. She wasn't like all these other tributes. She wasn't impressive. She didn't know what it was to suffer, and therefore she had no strength. She saw the tributes milling about after the ride and she just watched. She was a spectator to her own life. It wasn't that she wasn't aware of it, because she was painfully aware. It was that she didn't have the ability to fix it. She was a slave to her own emotions and there was no way out. No way to change it or best it. Maybe someone else could – anyone else could, because they wanted to get better. So they worked. They grew. They made the changes they wanted to see.
How could Astra make the changes if she didn't know what to even change? She had tried positive affirmations and shit. She did the stupid looking in the mirror business. She tried the comfort spots, she tried the grounding techniques. She tried all of those things and they didn't work because they were silly, and dumb. So here were all these other tributes, milling about, talking. Even the walking car seat had a smile on his face. He shouldn't, but he did.
She looked around for a moment. The District Seven tributes looked so flashy in their paper mache. The District Five girl was wearing a nice modest dress, blacklights flickering off of lightning-shaped patterns. The Eleven girl looked beautiful in the dress she was wearing with those beautiful bright colors. Everyone just seemed so put-together. Look at them. She wasn't like them. She didn't have a single clue the things they had been through. And she would never be able to understand them.
What made her more deserving than anyone here? She didn't know. She didn't have a reason she should live and they shouldn't. They had more good to give to the world. She had just hit her last dead end.
Then there were the Careers. They were all stunning. Look at them over there talking like that. The Two tributes stood proud. They were tall, they were strong. They fought their way here and there was no way she stood a single chance against them. She watched the Four girl walk past her, away from the Careers, and sunk down even more, all the more aware of how her gut looked in this jumpsuit.
At least you're not from Ten. Wow, what a low bar. To not be as pathetic as the girl who was trafficked and the boy that just screamed and slapped his mentor. Woo fuckin' hoo.
Astra felt like she wasn't even there as she was looking at small groups or pairs that were forming in the loading area. She wanted to go try to make herself marketable but dammit, she just wasn't! And they would all see right through that right away. They would all quickly see how unimpressively average she was and shrug her off, just like everyone else in her past. So why even fuckin' try?
"I think I wanna get in with Bailey or Kunal."
Astra looked up at Mickey speaking and looked around for a moment. "Sure," she said, but she didn't know who was saying it.
"You?"
"I think I'm going to retire," she said feebly. She didn't want to talk to them. She already couldn't sleep and it would only be worse if she was replaying every interaction with them, just waiting to pick out what she said or did wrong. She just wanted to be alone for a moment, she supposed. Alone with her thoughts. Trying to prepare her for training. She knew that she learned quickly, she could memorize rote information, but she was about as fit as a pound of lard. In fact that was exactly what she felt like.
"Oh." Mickey tweaked his glasses and scrunched his eyebrows. "You sure?"
"Yes," Astra said, even though she wasn't sure. Should she be down here? Would it only hurt her worse later? She didn't know what to do. So she would just put it aside and worry about it another day.
Snap.
She had to get out of this stupid jumpsuit. Put her frog face away from watching eyes.
"Well… Alright." He squared his shoulders and walked towards the girl – look how tall and slender she looked even in those seatbelts. Astra was nothing like her – she was short and squat and she had zero tit. Astra watched him go for a moment before she took a breath that shuddered on the way in and came out smooth – oops. She put her elbow up to wipe the crust and slight tears out of her eyes before she turned and went toward the elevator. She could hear the Careers laughing as she went and put her head down. They were going to win. She shouldn't even bother.
Pretty much all of the tributes were still in the loading area when she called the elevator. She could turn around right now and still go try to find someone she could trust. Or at least start making a good impression on them. It wasn't too late.
No.
She couldn't do that. They wouldn't like her. She didn't even like herself.
She got on the elevator and the doors slid closed. She could feel the pressing on her throat and shut her eyes. Not yet. The doors opened on her floor – it was a short ride – and she swallowed the quickly forming mucus in her throat.
The three men were at the table when the doors opened.
"There you are," Gio said. Astra put her head up. Don't cry, it's silly. She always cried. She couldn't hold it together. She couldn't be strong. She swallowed again.
"Are you okay?" asked Chrome, and Astra just cleared her throat.
"I just need a moment," she said, swallowing the tears again and going to the tiny balcony that overlooked the city, just wanting some fresh air. Nobody followed her. Good.
She wasn't sure if she wanted them to care or not.
There was a part of her that wished they would care enough to follow her. That someone would care.
And yet, the other part of her was glad they didn't follow her because she didn't want them to care about her. It was easier when nobody cared. She didn't have to care about them and they didn't repay the favor. Then she could just be alone.
She certainly felt alone. It was only her and the night sky, and the breeze. The anxiety started to climb up her throat. Dammit, why did she just run away? She should still be down there trying to get an advantage! She could be talking to other tributes right now, they were forming loyalties already and she lost her chance at a first impression. They weren't going to accept her, she already knew this, so she didn't even try. But the what-if still lived in her brain.
She just couldn't do anything right. Every decision she made was wrong. And she just didn't even know how to start fixing it.
Why could she not at least try?
Well… She knew why.
It was because there was no way she could get out of here. So she wasn't going to get anyone's stupid hopes up. And by anyone, she meant… Jesse.
A small sob escaped her lips for him.
He didn't deserve this. She had never seen him like he was in that goodbye room before. He just held her with his strong arms and begged her to just bulldoze everyone over and come home to him. But she couldn't do that and they both knew it. No use in pretending she could.
Now she was here and he was going to watch her get killed in front of his face and be able to do nothing to stop it. It wasn't fair. He didn't deserve that.
But at least he could finally do better than her. It was a nagging thought that always lived in the back of her mind. And now it was right there in front of her eyes. They were still young. He could do better and he would. She just wished it didn't have to end this way.
She looked down and her stomach did a small flip seeing the distance to the ground. She was only on the third story, she imagined the views on higher floors were even more staggering.
She toed the edge a little bit. She could have done more, and she didn't. That was the story of her fucking life. Jesse asked her to try, but she couldn't. She just couldn't do it, not even for him. He was the only reason she would even consider. But she was just not made for this. For the Games. For teaching. For living, really.
It would be so easy. She looked down at the ground and swallowed a lump in her throat. Then Jesse wouldn't have to see her dying on his TV. She was finally isolated from everyone, she was truly alone. It would all finally just be over, and she wouldn't have to keep doing this. She couldn't keep doing this. Making an absolute fool of herself for the entire nation to see, being an embarrassment to her family, an embarrassment to Jesse.
There was nothing to stop her.
Astra looked behind her.
Nobody there to catch her this time.
Nobody to care.
She took a deep breath and toed a little bit closer to the edge. Her heartbeat started picking up as she thought about it. She started shaking. She was scared. She looked behind her shoulder again as the wind picked up.
She just needed to be fucking brave for once and not chicken out. She was alone. She had nothing.
She looked up at the sky. Yes, this made it easier. It was just like flying in a hovercraft. She took a deep breath. This wasn't what Jesse wanted. But it was either this or something much worse. Astra stood on the edge, her feet shaking a little bit and instinctively keeping her balance. She looked behind her one more time as a tear broke out of her eye. Make it easy for everyone. Then the nightmare would finally just be over. She didn't have to worry about feeling guilty, she would feel nothing. She would just finally be gone.
Just like flying.
It all happened in a flash. The sliding door flew open with a woosh and she made eye contact with Gio for just a second before she did it. She wasn't sure if she lost her balance or if she jumped, but in that moment it didn't matter.
She was falling.
And it was like time went still, for just a moment, as her body was tumbling towards the ground, only ceased by the impact of her body on the concrete.
She opened her eyes.
She was quivering, her teeth almost chattering with how she was shaking from the adrenaline. And she slowly lowered her arms from where they were… Around her head.
She heard a couple of loud voices – shrieks, yells, voices of panic. She wasn't sure how long she was laying there listening to it before Astra felt a hand on her arm, pulling on it a little bit. She was still quivering and crying as she was brought to her feet. "I got you lassie," said Malcolm as Chrome was already talking to the people that were surrounding them and Astra started to feel a dull pain on her side and a sharp one when she stood up straight and took a breath. She released her breath and her whole body complained as she was walked in the tribute building.
"Medic's on their way," Chrome said when he came in from outside. "They're sending a government van."
"Oh good," Malcolm breathed, and Astra just stared at the floor. Fuck.
She was conscious for the entire ride to the medical center – not a long one, but they said they were trying to protect her from the paps, including a good bribe from Chrome to the bystanders outside. Astra was brought into the center, given her own room, and examined. They pressed on parts of her body and took a few X-rays among other medical things. She was put on an IV of medication and just gave up her arms and did what they said. She was just going through the motions at this point. And thinking… Fuck… Why?
The doctors went to look at the scans and X-rays and the room was finally quiet once more.
Until her mentor spoke.
"Astra…"
She wasn't in the mood. "Just stop it," she said. She couldn't believe she did that. All she ever did was fuck everything up. EVERYTHING!
"I'm so sorry," Chrome said softly, just looking at her and pulling up a chair beside the bed.
"None of this is your fault," she said, her eyes filling with tears. "It's mine. Everything is my fault." It wasn't an exaggeration. It was just a simple truth. It was one she didn't want to accept, but all the evidence pointed in that direction.
"And yet you protected your head."
Astra sniffed and reached over to wipe her eyes. "What?" she asked quietly.
"You protected your head," Chrome said again. "Right?"
Astra sniffed a little bit and didn't answer him. She didn't know what he was trying to say. Did she?
"That means there must be some part of you that's trying to save yourself."
Astra just stared at him for a moment.
"There's some part of Astra that wants to live."
"There's… No…" Astra protested weakly, but Chrome just shrugged.
"Why?"
"Because I'm a fucking coward."
"Because breath is hope."
Astra's lips quivered as she stared at him for a moment, trying to keep breathing smoothly to not provoke her ribs or her side. "H-How can you say that?" she asked finally, in a small voice.
"Because I've been close to death before," Chrome said with a shrug and then a small sigh. "I was abandoned as a baby and my home life, even with two dads that loved me, was… Not stable. They had a lot of their own stuff going on. Then I had to meet death. And somehow lived to see it. Not because I was the strongest, the brightest, or even the bravest. Somehow my survival instinct just forced my body to do things that were unforgiveable. Still don't know how. But I know why."
Astra just stared at him for a moment. Chrome was usually so upbeat and smiley. She had never seen him like this before. He just ran a hand through his hair and gave her another Chrome smile. "Because there was part of me that wanted to keep living. And it was the part that won. And that's what happened today too."
Astra didn't like him saying that to her. She didn't know how to take it. She didn't feel brave like Chrome was brave. She was pathetic. Couldn't even kill herself the right way. Couldn't even spare her family the pain of seeing it happen in front of their eyes. Stupid her, thinking that jumping three stories would kill her…
And yet she didn't die because of her own self.
"Now I did it. I don't stand a fucking chance." She was in pain and the medication was just starting to kick in. She fucked up badly.
"There are only two ways you don't stand a fucking chance," Chrome told her, reaching over to push the sideswept bangs out of her eyes. "The first is if you completely give up. Which you haven't. The second? If you're dead. Which you aren't."
Astra looked at him for a moment, and felt… Warm. Like he cared. He actually thought she had a chance, even after doing this to herself. How? She didn't know how to repay him. Or even what to say to him. She looked at her hands, at the scuffs from the fall that had barely broken skin because she was holding her arms around her head and protecting herself. She had acted on a total whim. But that just proved that there was part of her that wasn't ready to die quite yet. Otherwise she would have done it.
Maybe it was cowardly.
Maybe it was brave.
She still didn't know.
She just took another slow breath – not too deep, but just deep enough as her body was relaxing into the medication. She wasn't sure what she was going to do next. But she was still breathing.
And for her, that breath…
Had become hope.
~.~.
A/N: Thanks Astra, now future tributes have to have a forcefield on the building because of you. This is why we can't have nice things!
A chapter of special children for post-chariots. Not much else to report from here, I'm going to start posting pre-Games soon because I'm impatient but that won't matter when this chapter goes out.
Next Chapter: Kermit and Antigone for the start of training!
