Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

As unbelievable as it was, Lamina wanted to go back to the zoo. 

That was a thought she’d believed to be impossible since the moment they’d been flung to the ground of the cage, but here she was. Thinking exactly that. While the experience of being an attraction in a zoo was the most uncomfortable and humiliating thing she'd ever experienced in her life, all it reminded her of was how Capitol people saw them. 

It didn’t remind her of what would happen the next day. Not unless she allowed it to, which was something she had at least a little control over. But the games? The fact that, in mere days, all but one of them would be gone ? Nothing she could do about that, and while she had a strategy planned out she wasn’t sure if she’d be alone or not. She and Treech hadn’t discussed it yet, although she hoped he’d stay with her. 

Just like home. Them against the world, even without their other friends. Lamina didn’t dare think about how it would inevitably end for them, because there was nothing she could do to change that. It wouldn’t even matter if they never got to that point. 

Now, they walked around the arena, where it would all end in just a few hours. They’d all finally get to go home, in one way or another. In one piece or in a box. In just a few hours, all of her friends would have to mourn, no matter what happened, because they’d lose someone regardless of who won. Lamina didn’t want to dwell on that. 

Treech was a bit away from her and Pup, looking around the arena with his own mentor. Her name wasn’t one Lamina remembered, even though her district partner had mentioned it a few times. The blonde had shown up to the zoo twice , and not even with enough food for one day. She was so far below the least Treech deserved, Lamina had elected to wipe her name from memory. She didn’t deserve to have her name be remembered. 

Luckily, Pup had been nice enough to give her enough food to share with Treech. Pup, who didn’t seem too confident in her chances. Fair enough, Lamina hadn’t managed to stop crying since she’d stepped on the train. Could they really blame her, given the situation? It didn’t look good, but Lamina couldn’t bring herself to care. 

Looking around, Lamina couldn’t find any good hiding spots. There were rows of seats, though. If she climbed up to those, she’d be mostly out of the firing line, especially with how she knew the others perceived her. If she was fast enough, it should work. No one would pay attention to her as long as there were other tributes to focus on. 

“Hey Lumberjack!”

Lamina looked up to see the girl from 4, Coral, staring intently at Treech. Behind her were the boy from 4, Mizzen, and the boy from 10 whose name she’d never caught. A logical pick, because the boy no longer had a district partner to team up with. But now she also wanted them to join? 

“Lamina!” Treech called out, but he was stopped by Coral’s next words. Words that made her heart stop, because while they’d never talked about what they’d do in the arena, Lamina had hoped they’d stick together. The two of them. It made sense , but…

“Just you.” She said, like she wasn’t causing Lamina’s world to crumble. “Just you.”

And Treech, he looked between them in clear conflict. Lamina understood, as much as she hated it, because the choice was obvious. One of them would die in the best-case scenario. Very possibly, they’d both die. Staying together meant either they’d watch each other die, or they’d have to kill each other . The boy from 10 and Coral were strong tributes, joining them and the kid was the smart decision. 

But Lamina didn’t care that it was smart. She wanted to be selfish, for once, and make the boy she cared for so much stay by her side. Have them face the darkest place on earth together and fight till the end. She didn’t want to lose him, especially not yet. 

Treech looked her in the eyes, and if she hadn’t known him like she did she would have missed the agony in his face as he turned away from her. Sharp, cold stabs pierced her heart, which shattered into millions of tiny little shards under the impact. Despite seeing it coming, her eyes still widened, tears burning to escape her again. 

That small part of her that had hoped was crushed, because no knowledge or logical thinking could ever snuff out the fact that it hurt . He was leaving her , and it didn’t matter that it was probably better for both of them in the long run. It didn’t matter, none of that mattered , because she was alone . 

Pup took hold of her arm, gently pulling her away, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from Treech’s retreating back. Couldn’t stop herself from watching him as he walked away from her, towards the strongest alliance in the arena. Until he stopped. Abruptly. Just like her train of thoughts when their eyes met. Just a second, then he turned back to Coral.

“No.”

Just like that, the world started up again. Sound crashed back in, the smell of past horrors creeping back into her nose like someone flicked the switch to turn her senses back on. Something bloomed in her chest, she felt alive again. Lamina hadn’t even realized she’d lost all those sensations. 

“ What ?!” The redhead demanded, her voice like the hiss of a tree snake. 

“I said no . You don’t want Lamina? You don’t get me. Simple as.”

The two stared each other down, and Lamina’s heart was now beating in her chest like it was trying to break free of her body. This was a massive thing to pass up, and she couldn’t help but fear Treech would change his mind about her. She didn’t want to be alone, as prepared as she was for exactly that. 

“But she’s nothing but deadweight! Why would you pass up our alliance for her ?!”

“For similar reasons to why you’re not dropping your district partner like a brick, I assume.” Was Treech’s dry response. “Now, I won’t repeat myself again. Both of us, or neither. Make your choice, Coral.”

“I- Ugh!” the girl growled in frustration. “I’m not working together with that- that crybaby!”

“Then I wish you good luck with finding someone else. Goodbye.”

And with that, he turned on his heel and walked past his mentor, straight towards her. Warmth spread through her, eyes still filled with tears but no longer because of pain. With a slight, nervous smile, Treech inquired about what her ideas were for a strategy, and it took Lamina a few moments to fully process what he’d just done. Then, a smile broke through the tearful expression on her face as they began to speculate on what tactics would work and which ones to throw out. She had a different plan, but there was no need for her to say it. 

Treech already knew, she knew he could tell she was hiding something. This was Treech, he could read her like no one else could. Despite their circumstances, despite how this would end… he trusted her. 

A bang. 

Around her, the world dissolved into chaos. 

Chapter Text

Blinding darkness blanketed his existence. 

It pierced his brain, curling around the unbearably high-pitched screeching noise in his ears and mixing together to create a cocktail of agony that broke any attempt at restabilizing himself before it even began. Blinking, Treech tried desperately to clear his vision, but his eyes stung with the brown dust that obscured his surroundings. 

Scrambling to get his feet underneath him, his mouth opened to call out when the lack of a familiar frame made his body feel cold despite the unbearable heat surrounding them. For the second time, the ground shook underneath him. The familiar feeling of grinding against his cheek exploded on his face as he fell back down. Treech coughed, trying to clear his airway, only to choke on the dust that was swirled in the air around him. A deadly cloak. 

For just a moment, he curled in on himself. Arms wrapped over his head, attempting to block out the noise. Flashes of fire and smoke, the phantom pain of a harsh force pushing him into a crumbling wall drifted into his mind, before they were brutally ripped out of focus as the nasty prickle of a burn flared in his left arm. It spread to his shoulder. Harshly, Treech thrust his arm out. A hot iron plate clanked to the ground beside him, cutting through the deafening ring that had dominated until then. 

Painfully, he managed to force himself up. First to his knees, then to his feet as he rapidly blinked. Vision finally returned to him. It was blindingly bright, but the new light that had somehow entered the arena was drowned out by the dust around them. Frantically, Treech looked around him, attempting to see further than a few feet as his stomach churned. 

“Lamina? Lamina, where are you?! Lamina!”

Shouts of names came from all around him, but none were the voice he hoped to hear. The one he’d be able to recognize in any crowd, even when he was barely conscious and half-deaf. Stumbling, Treech tried to orient himself. Nothing gave him any clue as to where he was. There was nothing but the bright light above him that now flooded the room, and the cloud swallowing up his senses.

He whipped his head from left to right, tearing up from the impure air as he tried to pick up on a glimpse of red. A grip on his chest began to squeeze impossibly tight, threatening to cut off his air supply as his breaths became shallow. The scent of almonds floated through the air. It smelt just like home in the way only his worst nightmares could. Narrowing his eyes, Treech called out again, moving without direction in hopes of coming closer to the girl he was looking for. 

“Treech?!”

Gasping, he whirled around to find a sight that made his eyes water for completely different reasons. A sigh of relief crashed into his wheezing attempts to breathe, but the pressure in his lungs couldn’t have bothered him any less as he darted forward. Muscular arms wrapped around him, pulling him close as Lamina’s tearful babbling filled his perception. 

Treech pulled back, hands resting on Lamina’s shoulders as he checked her over for injuries as much as possible. He didn’t have to look at her face to know she was doing the exact same thing to him. When he’d used up what little time they could afford, he gave her arms a little squeeze. In return, she granted him a small smile, before turning serious again. 

“We need to get out of here, there may be more bombs,” Lamina said, voice strong and even and final despite the tears still on her face. 

“Right, out.” He looked around. “Where’s the-” 

A scream cut him off, and Treech only barely recognized the voice. In his peripheral vision, he could see figures sprinting past them toward… something. Vaguely, he recognized the girl from district one. It didn’t matter, not when he heard the still unfamiliar scream still echoed in his head. 

“Vipsania!”

He pulled back from Lamina to look around in the direction he’d heard her from. Eyes wide again, Treech froze when he spotted her, legs trapped underneath a pile of rubble. Without thinking, he sprinted towards her. Behind him, he could hear Lamina call out to him, then to Pup. Her footsteps followed him. Only then did Treech notice there were two red uniforms near the pile, not just one. Pup was a bit further away. 

Hurrying to her side, Treech attempted to help clear the rubble off of Vipsania’s feet. He heard himself tell her to move, but it felt far away. The biggest pieces of rubble were clear, but not enough for her to get her legs freed. Gritting his teeth, he tried to think fast, only to hear the cracking of stone overhead as a pebble hit his shoulder. 

Looking above him, Treech thought back to home as he brought his arms up. Bracing himself, he was reminded of how he used to help carry lumber from place to place. The stone was scalding as it hit his hands, but it didn’t rip his skin like bark would. Grunting, he bit his lip as he readjusted his stance and tried to gain control of the weight he was now holding up. Distantly, he recognized the sound of gunfire. 

On an unexpectedly smooth bit of surface, his hand slipped. The weight shifted painfully, and Treech cried out as he let it crash to the side. Stepping his foot back quickly, he managed to aim the boulder away from them both. Pain now radiated up his entire left arm, overbearing and unignorable. He sucked in a breath through his teeth, body lowering to the ground as he held the damaged limb close. Charred flesh and metallic sulfur filled his nose, forcing him to resist the urge to gag. 

“No! Treech, what were you thinking ?!” 

Suddenly, Lamina was next to him, scolding him as she tried to get a look at his arm. Treech couldn’t answer, instead turning to look between Vipsania and Lamina with a pleading look. His district partner followed his gaze, eyes hardening when they landed on the other girl. For a moment, she scarily resembled the peacekeepers keeping watch over their shift on a bad day. Then, she turned back to him, and her gaze softened. 

Without a word, she straightened up and, after ruffling his hair briefly, moved to aid Pup in freeing Vipsania. Taking a second to force down his reception of the pain, he squeezed his eyes shut. Then, he managed to work past the continuous stabbing on his skin to stand up, helping to get rid of the last rocks trapping his mentor. 

Vipsania was looking at him, eyes wide with shock and disbelief. Treech stared right back into her eyes, unsure of what emotion was visible on his own face. No time to dwell on them, given the situation. Until they got out, he wouldn’t bother worrying about it. His mentor looked like she wanted to say something, but he broke eye contact before we could. 

“The exit. We have to-” he coughed harshly. “We have to find the exit.”

“Over there! I recognize the floor.” Lamina pointed in a direction. 

Despite his efforts, Treech could not for the life of him discern anything useful from that side of his surroundings. Instead, he nodded at her in understanding. They moved, only to stop when their mentors remained standing. In shock, if he had to take a guess. Sighing in barely contained annoyance, he moved to take hold of his mentor’s arm and began pulling her along. This was not the time to shut down! 

Lamina was doing the same, he knew. Although perhaps she may be more worried than annoyed. If annoyance even was what he was feeling. He wasn’t sure, and figuring it out was so low on the priority list it barely even occurred to him. Instead, he tried to move as quickly as possible without tripping either of them up. 

Suddenly, the shouts that had died down started up again. Grey surrounded them, a stark contrast to the warm brown of the dust. Treech froze, all too familiar with the sight before him. For just a moment, he let go of Vipsania’s arm. Then, hands were on his body. Harsh and cruel, they gripped at him, pinning his arms to his side as they pulled him backward no matter how much he struggled. 

“No! Lamina! La-” He screamed in pain as something dug into his left shoulder. “Lamina, no Lamina! ” Desperately, he tried to shake off the restraining grips as he fought to reach for her. 

“Stop it, stop it , Treech!” 

Her cries echoed in his mind, filling up his mind and leaving nothing but the need to comfort her as she struggled against the iron grips around her arms, pulling her in the opposite direction. Treech tried to shake off his attackers to no avail. There were too many of them. His yelling became more and more desperate, but it was no use. 

Something hard slammed into the back of his head, causing stars to explode throughout his vision. Uncomfortable warmth seeped from his left arm, into his neck. All the way to his head, where it festered and began to thump against the inside of his skull. Loud and throbbing, it speared through his reality and shattered any semblance of focus he’s managed to scrounge together. The remains of his consciousness slowly crumbled. 

Every blink became slower and slower as the noise faded. The last thing he heard was a voice that was familiar, yet unrecognizable. The world tilted and twisted, blurring into incomprehensible colors as his body began to go limp. Treech could feel the energy seep out of his body, dissipating into the air like small wafts of smoke. 

The feeling in his limbs began to numb out, leaving nothing but an uncomfortable throbbing. Tiny needles punctured his skin, lessened but undeniably there, until even they began to lose coherence.  This time, as he let himself sink into the nothing, there was no blinding. 

Only darkness. 

Chapter Text

Evening hadn’t fallen yet, but the zoo was quiet. Empty. 

Or maybe that was just the area surrounding their enclosure. There wasn’t really a way to know, and Lamina didn’t care enough to bother thinking about it for more than a second. It wasn’t relevant enough for her to let it take up her precious, limited time. 

Despite the bombing, Lamina doubted the games would be canceled. She’d seen enough of the capitol’s cruelty to have hopes like that. They were a waste of time, and while Lamina wished for the games to end she knew she had to prepare for the worst. Especially since it was the most likely outcome. 

So, she tried to come up with a new strategy. Undoubtedly, the arena was different now, and Lamina didn’t know in what ways nor to what degree. That… complicated things. A lot. Past games had allowed her to have a vague idea of what the arena looked like, even if she hadn’t watched much. Now she knew absolutely nothing aside from the vague flashes that had stuck with her through the adrenaline and the blinding dust. 

It was fine, though. Just a minor setback. No use worrying about it, because it wouldn’t do her any good. If there was anything she had to keep in mind, it was that she had to be smart about this. No wasting time, she already didn’t have enough of it. Wondering and panicking about things outside of her control was stupid, and if she wasn’t careful it may be the thing that would kill her. She couldn’t let that happen. Instead, she used her time and energy on things that actually mattered. 

Things like the boy currently sleeping in her arms. 

Running a hand through his dark curls, Lamina felt her forced calm become steely with determination. If she wasn’t doing this for herself or her family, she was doing it for Treech. Given that he was unconscious, she had to be the one to get as much thinking done as possible so they had plenty of time to go over things and scrap whatever they needed to. 

She had someone to fight for in here, though the unavoidable doom of their allyship hung over her like a dark cloud. One Lamina could only try to blow away for as long as possible so she had time to mentally prepare herself for when it would inevitably engulf her. The end of their friendship was like the mud in the forest, making work even worse than usual.

Whether this was the grey sky before the downpour or the rain responsible for the mud itself, Lamina wasn’t sure. Either way, she’d rather have a sunny day at school with their friends. One that wasn’t as unbearably, scorchingly hot as the past few days had been. At least the temperature was going down now. 

Against her chest, Treech stirred slightly, face scrunching up into a frown. Slowly, Lamina resumed running her fingers through his hair, hoping it would bring some comfort to him as it had back home. Whether it did or not, her friend’s face relaxed a little, so she counted it as a win. Though he probably wouldn’t hear her, or at least not remember, Lamina began whispering reassurances and comforting words. It helped her stay focused, at least. 

Much like the zoo around them, the enclosure felt… empty. Only 17 of the original 24 tributes remained, with two of them lying motionlessly in a corner. As far away from prying eyes as they could get in this massive cage meant to let everyone outside see as much as they wanted. A veterinarian was with them, trying to help them as much as she could. As cold of a reminder as it was of what they were in the eyes of the capitol, the woman was nice. 

By capitol standards. Lamina didn’t know the vet enough to draw personal conclusions, but she genuinely seemed like she was doing everything she could to help them. At least, that’s the impression she’d gotten when the woman had looked over Treech’s head and assured Lamina he wouldn’t be suffering a concussion. At least not during the games. 

Even though they were still alive, Lamina had already let the grief for Sheaf and Panlo set in and pass. The two from District 9 weren’t gonna make it, if the vet’s body language was anything to go by. Maybe it was better that way since their wounds probably meant they wouldn’t last long if they made it to the games, but Lamina’s heart still squeezed every time her eyes fell on their little corner. She’d cry for them too next time she’d let her tears fall. 

As for the other missing tributes, Lamina wasn’t sure about their status. Brandy was gone, of course, but she’d only seen three bodies when she’d been dragged out of the arena. Sabyn, Velvereen, and Facet. That left Ginnee, Otto, and Marcus. All of them could be alive, and if they were Lamina hoped with all her heart they had managed to escape. None of them deserved to die. The more of them got out of here, the better.

The textured locks between her fingers were a comfort. Warmth spread from her hands up her body, breaking the ice that had settled in over time. She wasn’t alone. She wasn’t fighting for just herself, because if she didn’t make it home she’d make sure their home could have at least something to cling to. They deserved to have someone to cling to. 

While the wrench that had been thrown into her plans was annoying and scary, it wasn’t that bad. Hopefully, Pup would tell her something about the state of the arena at some point, so they’d have more to work with, but until then Lamina would have to work with speculation and what knowledge she did have. It was doable, and if they were gonna survive this she’d have to learn to adapt anyway.

The odds weren’t in their favor, but they weren’t static, and Lamina was nothing if not driven. She’d learn to bend them to their advantage.

Given the whole mentor thing, and taking into account what Pup had told her, the games would be longer than before. More than a day, at least. Water would be the most pressing issue, especially given the unforgiving sun. District 7 was used to colder weather, meaning the two of them had a disadvantage there, but that was fine. Everyone would be struggling with this extreme heat. 

If they stayed out of the sun as much as possible early on, that would even things out pretty well for them. As for the food and water… Well, she’d have to wait for a little longer to solve that issue. From what she’d gathered, their mentors were responsible for that through sponsors, whatever that meant. But to be sure, Lamina had to wait for Treech to wake up and see how he was doing. 

Between them, Lamina was more accustomed to heavy labor. She carried around wood and felled trees on a daily basis. Treech carved wood to make it fancy, he climbed trees to cut down the branches. Of course, she knew he was a force to be reckoned with, but she knew she was the stronger one between them. Their many escapades back home had proven that time and time again, and it suited her just fine. In a way, their skills slotted together perfectly. 

Hopefully, the vet was right in saying Treech wouldn’t be suffering a concussion or worse. If he did… they’d find a way to make it work. Together. Not only was he her friend, he’d given up a massive advantage for her. No matter what, she wasn’t going to abandon him. If there had ever been a doubt about that in her mind, it had long since evaporated. 

All they had to do was save their strength and let everybody else whittle the numbers down. It would be hard for the others to kill them if they weren’t even near the battle. 

“Treech?!” 

The telltale prickle of hairs standing up on her neck accompanied the shiver of disdain that traveled through her body at the familiarly hateable voice. Why, it seemed the princess had finally lowered herself to show up in the zoo. And at the worst possible time too. 

At least Treech wouldn’t have to deal with this nonsense. While Lamina knew for sure her friend didn’t mind, since he actually seemed to somewhat like his mentor, she’d rather he not interact with the girl who had let him starve without a care. Really, the fact he hadn’t just let that stupid rock crush her was a damn shame. Not that she didn’t understand, if the blonde had done that to her instead of Treech she would have saved her too. 

Sighing, Lamina took off her vest and folded it up, glancing over at the mentor as she did. The girl was still calling out, whipping her head back and forth like she was scared of something. Almost like she’d just shot up out of bed after a nightmare and was desperately searching for the monster that had chased her back into the waking world. 

Carefully, she maneuvered herself out from underneath Treech, gently lowering him to the ground and laying his head down on her vest. It wouldn’t do much, but it would soften the surface underneath his head a little bit. Luckily there weren't any open wounds from the way the peacekeeper had rammed Treech over the head with that stupid gun. Once she was sure her friend was as comfortable as he’d get, she stood up. 

With dread filling every step, she approached the bars of the enclosure and prepared herself to remain civil towards the person whose name she was fully ignoring. Was it petty? Yes. Did it do anything to help them? No. But it gave Lamina a deep sense of righteous satisfaction, so it was worth it. Besides, the only alternative was grabbing the girl by the neck and shaking her until she developed a sense of compassion, which probably wouldn’t end well with all the peacekeepers around them. 

“Keep your voice down,” her voice was carefully controlled, “he’s sleeping.”

There was nothing quite like watching the guilt flood the capitol girl’s face. Truly, it had no right to be that satisfying, but Lamina wasn’t quite ready to let the resentment go. Pup had lost all hope of her winning until Treech chose to stay with her, but he’d still brought her food. At one point, he’d genuinely tried to console her. As much as he was still capitol , Pup tried his best. That was much more than blondie over there had even considered . 

How dare she show up now ?! 

At least she’d stopped calling out now, so hopefully Treech hadn’t been woken up yet. Sadly, this meant miss perfect-curls-in-a- zoo had turned her attention to Lamina , which… She could have gone without it, really. This turn of events was really unfortunate, and Lamina would have wished she’d stayed in bed if she’d had one. 

“Oh, sorry,” the ‘mentor’ said, “Lamina, right?” 

In response, Lamina merely stared at her for a second, before nodding. Despite the thoughts swirling around in her head, she couldn’t bring herself to be too mean to the other girl. It wouldn’t help anyway. Sighing quietly, she hoped this whole situation could get a move on and end already so she could go back and make sure Treech was still okay. 

“I’m Vipsania.”

“I know.” I just don’t care . 

“There’s much to discuss.”

“Treech is sleeping, he needs the rest. You should come back later.”

While it was phrased as a request, because Lamina knew how these people worked, she really wished she could just outright demand it. There was nobody she wanted to interact with less than she did this woman. Even whoever had come up with the idea of the games would be preferable. 

Okay, that was maybe a bit extreme, but it was never going to happen so Lamina didn’t need to worry about it. Hypotheticals weren’t dangerous, reality was. And this was reality. Blondie was right here, and she held much more power than Lamina wanted to think about. These kids could get all of them killed with a wave of their hands, and they didn’t even seem aware of that simple fact because they didn’t need to be. It made her sick . 

“Well I- uhm…” At least she’d managed to render the ‘mentor’ temporarily speechless. Small victories. “I brought food and drinks. You two can share, if you want, but could you give it to him for me? And I’ll… come back later.” 

A bag was held out, clearly filled with as much as it could fit, which was a lot for district standards. By capitol standards, it was probably a laughable amount. For a brief moment, Lamina considered refusing, but… But this was an effort, at the very least, even if she had no doubt there were many ulterior motives to the spontaneous kindness. The vocal inflections may have been perfect, Lamina wasn’t fooled for even a second . 

Not when she remembered glancing over during the meeting with the mentors, and the sight that had greeted her. It was burned into her memory, especially the fear in Treech’s eyes, a glint she’d only caught because of the years they’d known each other. Lamina didn’t need to see anything more than that to be completely certain this girl was bad news. 

However …

That was a lot of food to just pass up. And, once they were in the arena, this was the person who held Treech’s life in her hands. She’d be responsible for sending him whatever they could be sent, and Lamina couldn’t risk being the reason for some kind of spoiled tantrum. Besides, eating as much as possible before the games was important because any advantage was one they had to leap for and grasp like there was no tomorrow. If they didn’t, then there might truly be no tomorrow. 

A higher energy level to start with was a big boon, especially given that their strategy would leave them out of the spotlight. That meant fewer sponsors, probably, and Lamina would rather not have to figure out ways to get those sponsors back , so not needing them for as long as possible was important. 

Finally, she decided to swallow everything she felt for just long enough to grab the bag and turn around without so much as a goodbye. She still didn’t trust the girl, but food was food. Behind her, the mentor’s footsteps could be heard, so hopefully that meant no dangerous amounts of offense had been taken. 

Lowering herself down next to Treech again, Lamina moved him carefully so he was lying against her again. The longer he stayed fully on the ground, the higher the chance of waking up in pain. Taking a deep breath, Lamina used one hand to get rid of as many knots as possible in Treech’s hair, having already gotten out as much dust as she could. 

With her other hand, she opened the bag and began to take stock of everything they’d been given. Mentally, she planned out how best to stretch this in case they weren’t given anything tomorrow. It would be best to not test her nonexistent trust in both of their mentors too much just yet. As much as she liked Pup… he was capitol. 

The only person here who she could trust was the one currently sleeping against her, so unhealthily light that she could barely feel his weight. 

“What will I do with you, when you insist on acting like a dumbass.” Lamina sighed fondly. 

“No m not…” 

A weak mumble shocked her out of her thoughts, and she looked down to see Treech looking up at her with slightly dazed, deep, rich brown eyes. A small smile curled her lips as she gently flicked his forehead, laughing lightly at his quiet whine of protest. 

“Yes you are. Like when you refused to split my food fifty-fifty when I offered.”

“M used to it.” Treech slurred, wincing as his injured arm moved too much.

“That doesn’t make it better.”

While he tried to say something else, Lamina couldn’t make out the words well enough to piece it together. Instead of arguing, she took one of the water bottles from the bag and opened it, holding it to Treech’s mouth so he could take a few sips before offering him a sandwich. Luckily, they’d been cut into smaller bites. They looked amazing too. One look was enough to stop Treech from refusing, and once he was done swallowing Lamina closed the bag and readjusted her grip on his body. 

“Go back to sleep, Treech. We’ll talk when you’re lucid again.”

Despite his half-hearted grumbling, the only real protest was a look of concern. Which wasn’t necessary, because she wasn’t the one who’d gotten hit over the head. And she also wasn’t the one who was next on the list to be checked by the veterinarian. 

“I’ll be there when you wake up. It’ll be fine, I promise.”

Her reassuring smile was enough to convince him, apparently, and her friend finally closed his eyes to go back to sleep. As Lamina ate a few bites of food and waited anxiously for the vet to tend to Treech’s arm, she resigned herself to the waiting game. 

For now, there wasn’t anything else she could do. 

Chapter Text

Fading into awareness the second time proved both much better and worlds worse than the first time. A very confusing feeling, truly.

On one hand, there was no metaphorical sledgehammer badgering the outside of his skull like a starved fringe kid sure they found a hidden food stash. Vast improvement for sure. Also, it no longer felt like his arm had been caught in a forest fire, so that was nice. 

However, he was lying on the ground, likely in the zoo, head resting on some piece of fabric. Alone. Vast, vast, vast downgrade. Given the fact that his vest was still very much on his shoulders, this had to be Lamina’s. And Lamina wasn’t there. Treech would almost say he wanted to go back to the headache-burn combo if it meant his district partner was still there, but then his fuzzy mind caught up to the fact that he could just… Open his eyes and find her. 

They were stuck in a zoo, where was she gonna go? 

Blinking his eyes open, Treech tried very hard not to vocalize his distress at the sunlight piercing into his eyes as he forced himself to not go back to sleep. Right. Hunger Games. Time was kind of sparse. He really shouldn’t be wasting any more of it than he likely already had. Even using his time badly would be better than not using it at all. 

When the bright white finally melted into something more akin to colored shapes, Treech carefully pushed himself into a sitting position. Okay, first order of business: Find the red. A quick look around proved impossible because the slow movement of his head proved not slow enough. It made him dizzy, and instead of white his vision was now filled with colored black spots. With a sigh, Treech waited for the return of his ability to see. 

Thankfully it came back fully when it finally did. With the ability to see actual things rather than just abstract allusions to them back in his possession, it took Treech less than ten seconds to spot Lamina. She was near the edge of the enclosure, talking to Pup. Both of them were holding a bag, which was… weird. 

He wondered if they were discussing how to get rid of him if it came down to it. 

It was stomped into the ground before it grew into a plague on his mind, the way one would a cockroach threatening to take the depressingly low amount of food they had. No use thinking about it. Paranoia wasn’t gonna help either of them. After all, it was only if it came down to just them, which wouldn’t matter if distrust and overthinking got them both killed. 

Prioritizing was essential in the game of life, and this was hardcore mode. Speaking of priorities, Lamina had been found. Time for the second order of business: his own physical condition. Aside from a light pressure in his head and the faint ghost of a sting in his arm, he felt… fine. Not good, because he was still in the capitol, but he was as okay as he was probably going to get. The only things that could make this better were Lamina being next to him, which would happen soon enough, and the president declaring the games were over and they were being sent home, which would happen when Hell froze over. 

Looking back over at his friend and her mentor, Treech managed to accidentally catch Pup’s eyes. Well fuck. Now what was he supposed to do? Looking away would be mean because the guy had been the nicest mentor by far aside from maybe Sejanus. But talking would be a horrible idea given how dry his throat felt and just staring blankly was weird. He glanced away for a second before looking back again, awkwardly offering a slight smile and a wave. 

Pup’s face lit up slightly as he returned the gesture, so clearly he was doing something right here. Fuck if he knew what. Results were results. Who knew? Maybe Pup and Sejanus would work together in the future to end the games because at least one of them would lose their tribute in the games. Marcus may be strong, but he wasn’t the only one who was. Strategy could beat out strength, and luck didn’t give a shit about odds. Though now that he thought about it, where was Marcus? 

Like a battering ram, memories of the arena bombing crushed the walls protecting the tentative peace of mind his wakeup-haze had granted him, and Treech looked away to make sure he wasn’t sending the wrong message while he tried to suppress his grimace. The burning dust in his eyes. The hot pole. The heat through his clothes right into his arm. The feel of Facet’s corpse against his legs . The screams and the fear and the deat-

Right. Okay. Lamina was okay, Treech was okay, Vipsania and Pup were okay, everything was okay . Nothing that happened had led to the worst possible outcome, so it was okay. They still had a chance. If anything, their chances were slightly better now, sickening as it was to think that way. He’d have to get used to it because denial wasn’t going to keep him out of the arena. 

“You should drink something.”

Looking up, he realized that Lamina had come back. She and Pup must’ve wrapped up their conversation when he hadn’t been paying attention. Both of the bags were hung from her shoulder, and she offered a bottle from one of them. Rasping out his thanks, he took it and gulped it down like he hadn’t seen water in a decade. 

Instantly, he felt much better. Guess there was another thing to make the situation better after all, and it wasn’t completely deluded! Nice. With his thoughts becoming clearer and less jumbled by the second, Treech finally got back into his business mindset. They had shit to do and life to live as much as possible given their circumstances. 

“What’s with the two bags?”

Lamina’s face twisted like she’d bit into an underripe apple. He almost apologized for asking, but she smoothed over her expression and placed both of the bags down to ruffle through one of them. There was food in there, which was great because juggling only got them so much and Treech was trying to avoid singing. Too high of a risk for voice cracks given how irregularly he’d had access to water. 

“Vipsania came by earlier, but you were still out so she gave it to me. Said she’d be by later.”

The slightly tense tone of her voice told Treech loud and clear that it was high time to drop the subject. Smoldering coals were resting under the surface and he had no interest in actually setting them aflame. There was more than enough heat, both literally and figuratively, around them already. 

Part of him wanted to defend his mentor, since it was clear to him Lamina didn’t like her, but he didn’t know what to say. During the bombing, Treech had personally witnessed the first instance ever of Lamina not being happy with the idea of helping someone. Since she’d never interacted personally with the blond before that point it clearly wasn’t a personal issue. 

Knowing his friend, she wouldn’t just take a dislike for someone without any reason so something must have happened. He had no idea what though. Vipsania hadn’t really shown up, sure, but she hadn’t been terrible. At least not in a way that wasn’t to be expected from a Capitol citizen. During their one-on-one interview, she’d seemed at least willing to be more involved, even if Treech knew it had nothing to do with her possibly caring about him in any way. So Treech couldn’t think of any reason why his friend was acting this way. Except for maybe one, but there was no way Lamina would have seen-

Actually… While she’d spent a lot of time crying, that didn’t mean she couldn’t have seen what happened during their meeting with their mentors. Every time he’d looked at her she hadn’t been looking at him, so it was unlikely . But it was in no way impossible. Oh God, how was he going to explain this? Maybe if he tried to-

“We’ve got new factors to account for.”

“Is that what you talked about with Pup?”

“Yeah. The bombs opened up some tunnels underneath the arena. Strategy’s gonna be more important than we thought it would be.”

Okay, so the news was both good and bad because that was something they definitely needed. At least tunnels were easy to hide in. Since they were created by an explosion, there were probably plenty of nooks and crannies to hide their supplies in. Or themselves , if necessary. That was good. 

Would it make it easier for everyone else to hide as well? Yes, absolutely. The games would be much more drawn out than they thought they’d be, but that was okay. Seems like popularity was gonna be more of a factor than they thought it’d be. Best to focus on this new tidbit of complications rather than the one-sided beef between Vipsania and Lamina. 

“There’s apparently some big poles near the middle of the arena too.

"Lamina was clearly going somewhere with this, but Treech wasn’t sure whether he liked the direction they were taking. Being in the middle of the arena wouldn’t be the best idea. What they had to do was outlive everybody else, and the best way to do that would be to stay out of sight. They had to stay out of battle for as long as possible because if the bigger tributes spent their time tiring themselves out getting rid of everybody else they’d be too tired to take on both Treech and Lamina at the same time. 

“Pup told me that because the weapons will be there, but I think we should climb them. No one can reach us easily up there.”

“What?!” Realizing he was drawing too much attention, Treech hastily lowered his voice. “Are you crazy? We’ll die of the heat before anyone can even bother trying to attack us.”

“It won’t affect us that quickly, and it’s the safest place in the arena! We can let everyone else get tired fighting for the weapons so we’ll have the most energy out of everyone despite not being used to the sun.”

“And how do you hope to get up there when people are fighting over weapons?”

At Lamina’s silence, Treech sighed. As right as she was about the poles being the safest place, it was also a massive risk. But fighting over it wouldn’t be good for them. Coral’s pack was watching them. Despite not being able to hear what they were saying, the boss lady herself looked both smug and calculating. 

Whatever was going through her head was not good news for them, that was for sure. At least it snapped Treech out of it enough to realize that going one route or the other wasn’t the only option. Both Lamina’s plans and his own had merits and massive weaknesses, so they’d have to be careful in deciding on what to do. 

“While the others can’t reach us for close combat, they can still throw weapons at us. All it takes is one lucky hit. We can easily hide in the tunnels. There’s gonna be an echo in there so we can hear people coming from a mile away.” He took care to keep his voice calm. 

“But if they corner us in there we’ll have to fight. We can jump off the poles and crouching down means lethally hitting us will be pretty much impossible. It’s a good vantage point.”

“I suppose… Maybe we should do both?” He paused, thinking it over. “We can stay in the tunnels for a little while to see what everyone else does. Once we know it’s safe we go up to the poles and stay there.”

“Yeah, that’s… probably a good idea. We should climb them when it’s colder to not waste energy unnecessarily. Maybe have one of us go first so we both have backup and can run away if things go wrong without too much trouble.”

“Sounds good. How are we gonna meet up in the tunnels?”

“How about we stay separate at first? Then meet up in the stands. We’ll have a clearer view of the arena from up there anyway. I’ll go up, you’re better at sneaking than me so if we’re on opposite sides of the arena you’ll be able to get to me safely. Don’t know if I could do the same…”

With a slight smile, he nodded. That was a good skeleton of a strategy. Not specific enough to be doomed to go wrong and not so barebones it was virtually useless. When he glanced over at the pack, he noticed that Coral’s expression had soured considerably. He frowned in confusion. Maybe she’d hoped he’d end up on his own anyway. Whether that was because she wanted to recruit him anyway or because she wanted him to be easier to get rid of, he didn’t know. He wasn’t planning on finding out either. 

Turning back to his district partner, he watched as she opened up one of the two bags. They began dividing some of the food to share. It wasn’t a lot, but it was more food in one place he’d ever seen in his life . No matter what happened, he wasn’t going to join Coral. Not now that he knew for certain it would end with a stab through the back. After what he’d done, she’d likely get rid of him as soon as possible. Allying with her would be the worst possible decision he’d ever make. Probably his last one, too. 

“I think Coral’s little pirate crew may be a bit of a problem.”

When Lamina looked over, her face soured immediately. Her clenched jaw was a dead giveaway that she realized the exact same thing Treech had. Despite being rebuffed by multiple people, Coral clearly held it against the District 7 pair more than anyone else. 

“Well.” Lamina said, looking back at their supplies. 

“My bad.”

To be fair, he was pretty sure the other tributes he’d seen Coral talk to had been nicer about their rejection of her offer, so maybe that’s why she was so cross about it. Which was totally unfair because it wasn’t his fault that Coral took things far too personally. Especially since, for someone who seemed so savvy in the Ways To Survive The Hunger Games, Coral had been incredibly quick to assume his comparison between Lamina and Mizzen had been an insult to Mizzen’s capabilities. 

That was Coral’s interpretation, which said more about her own view of her district partner than it did about Treech’s.

Not that it mattered, anyway. They were going into the arena. No alliance would hold, no matter how close the bond between the involved tributes was. Treech knew this, and he knew that when the numbers dwindled far enough he and Lamina would go their separate ways before they were forced to turn on one another. 

“We’re gonna have to do interviews the day before the games.”

Looking up in surprise, Treech tilted his head. Well, that was going to make things… interesting. It probably had to do with sponsors, which meant that if they screwed this up they could lose out on the food they were definitely going to need. And Lamina hadn’t had a chance to show what she was capable of, so people probably weren’t exactly dying to put their money on her. 

“They’re really making this a spectacle aren’t they?”

“Can’t imagine brutal child murder’s too entertaining on its own. You have to actually root for one person to care or something.”

“I hate this fucking city.”

He munched on a sweetly sour, chewy, unnaturally bright yellow… thing while leaning against Lamina’s shoulder. Seemingly without a second thought, his friend wrapped her arm around his shoulders and pulled him close. 

“I’m sure it’s very nice for people who aren’t stuck in a zoo enclosure.”

“Yeah, if the people were snapped out of existence maybe.”

“Not too loud, Treechie, we still need them to like you. Our survival hinges on the whims of overgrown rats wearing too much makeup and ugly clothing right now, can’t offend their fragile sensibilities too much.”

Snorting, Treech smiled up at his friend, who smirked down at him. The quirk of her lips was as glimmering and pure as it was filled with bitter rancor. A deep, resentful ink created by the knowledge of how unfair all of this was, darkened with every reminder of their situation. But a dark ink would write a clearer story, and the pen was in their hands. 

Though the paper may end up soaked with blood, he’d make sure the words written were his and his alone. Let the pages be lost if he died like an animal, the monsters outside didn’t deserve to read them anyway. If they were so convinced they were gods, they could keep believing that. Who knew what death would have in store for them once the clock ran out. 

A sudden inspiration overtook him, and he began humming a tune. Somewhat hesitantly he started tapping his feet, before letting his hands join in to create an actual beat with body percussion as he let the words flow out into the air, twisting and weaving themselves together into a new song that may never be seen on a stage. 

“ Hey, mister catcher

have you seen all these rats?

Please, sir, take care of them 

they’re slippin through the cracks

I know they’ve got gold 

and their jewels sure do glimmer

You can keep them all 

I ain’t got interest in the shimmer”

When he looked away from Lamina’s amused face, he realized the people outside of the zoo were clapping to his beat. Not for a single second did he stop singing, but in the back of his mind he was cackling . It was honestly maddening how none of these people understood the meaning behind his words, and the irony was only adding to that feeling. 

I just wanna live in peace

with food and drinks aplenty

And with those pests around 

my wallet always ends up empty

Was wonderin if you’d help me, sir 

I’ll give you endless praise

If you’d be so kind to please not mind 

and burn this whole damn place ”

Several people were taking out food and water, which made Treech feel a little bad. He and Lamina had enough, for now. They didn’t really need anything else. He hadn’t meant to make this a show, he’d just started singing because he could. 

Usually, he’d write down the words before he forgot, but they didn’t have anything to write on or with and there were no shows to write. It was just instinct honestly, and Treech decided to keep going because at least he’d get stuff inside the zoo enclosure that way. 

“ Burn it down with your torch, good sir

I hope you’ll find the nest

Ain’t no use in treating symptoms

if the illness ain’t addressed

We’ll dance around together

Once you’ve gone and done your job

We’ll rejoice over your glory

And we’ll never ever stop”

Lamina stood up, and he gave her an obvious nudge to signal to his audience that they could give it to her. As she went around collecting everything they were offered, Treech added a few high notes to the song to spice everything up before singing a final, closing verse to his little story. 

“ I thank you, mister catcher

From the bottom of my heart

You saved my life, you stopped the strife

And brought a brand-new start

I now bid you goodbye 

Sadly it’s time for me to go

I’ve got to work tomorrow

Get up early as you know

I’ll meet you here again

Next time I dream in my deep sleep

This world of ours is endless

And it’s our secret to keep

I’ll miss you dearly, sir

I truly wish that I could stay

But nighttime’s not forever

And now is a bright new day”

Stomping the last, definitive notes, Treech got to his feet despite the fatigue eating at his very existence. If it wasn’t for the sake of survival, he would have crawled behind the rock he and Lamina had made “their spot” and refused to show his face to these assholes. He would have been like Reaper, openly rebelling against the very idea of becoming a circus attraction for these rich rodents. 

But alas, he wasn’t physically intimidating enough to be able to afford such an attitude. If he didn’t give people a reason to root for him and Lamina, they just… wouldn’t. Because in the eyes of these assholes, this nightmare was an actual game , and neither of the District seven kids were good enough contestants to get support based on their odds alone. 

So, despite the rage bubbling in his stomach at literally everything about his situation, he plastered on a sweet smile with a hint of hesitant self-satisfaction and bowed deeply. The applause he received gave him a ghost of the rush he usually got, though knowing who it came from made the taste of acid bloom on his tongue. 

To anyone watching, it looked like he was actually pleased at the reaction he got. Even to the other tributes, if their gazes were anything to go by. Occasionally, Treech was such a good actor he impressed himself. Sometimes, he even managed to fool himself. Not in this case though. Nothing could convince him that his mask was anything other than an illusion. The sweet smile on his face was faker than his human rights. 

At least they got extra food. 

In a haze, Treech went through the motions of walking up to the bars and talking to his “fans” like he would back home. Without any of the genuine joy he'd get back in seven, sure, but still. It seemed to be working. The kids looking up at him in wonder were cute, even if the fact that parents were taking their children to gawk at a bunch of kids who would be dead in a couple of days made him want to vomit, cry, and throw any nearby objects at the adults around him. Not necessarily in that order. 

Rather than give in to his unflattering urges, Treech shared a nod with Lamina before grabbing some of their “earnings” and approaching all the other tributes. From the youngest to the oldest. The younger ones always got to eat first. Aside from Coral, who rather venomously told them where to shove their offering as an answer for her entire pack, everyone accepted gratefully. 

Finally, only Panlo and Sheaf were left. Neither of them had moved in a while, though both were just barely conscious. The fact that they were there and still alive was a daunting confirmation of what Treech already knew about the missing tributes. 

Velvereen. Facet. Sabyn. Marcus. Ginnee. Otto. Brandy. 

Six tributes were already dead and the games hadn’t even begun yet. Both Hy and Dill looked like they were halfway to heaven already. If they made it to the games, they wouldn’t make it very far. It was a horrid thought to have, and something clawed its way up his throat at the knowledge that this was how he’d have to think from now on. If not to survive, then to stay sane. He shared a look with Lamina. The same resilience solidified in their eyes. 

Without another thought, he knelt next to the boy from District 9 and gently touched his shoulder. Just enough to draw his attention, but careful to not cause him discomfort or pain. Panlo’s eyes shifted towards him, confused and so heartbreakingly childlike. Because that was a child. One who didn’t deserve to die on the dirty floor of this stupid fucking zoo.

“Hey, I’ve got food. Do you want some?”

For a moment, Panlo didn’t react. He was so scarily still that Treech feared he was already gone. But then the confusion on the boy’s face deepened as his hands grasped at the denim of his worker clothes. Too young to wear one, and forced to die in it. It was a cruelly accurate depiction of what their lives were like. All in the visage of this one kid who he could do nothing for. 

“W-Why? I’m not… I’ll…”

“I know.” He said firmly, loud enough that those outside could hear him clearly. They should hear this. “I don’t care. You deserve to eat.”

“You’d waste… on me?”

Panlo sounded broken. Scared and weak and young . Surely the slightly discomforted looks on some of the faces outside were his wishful thinking, but Treech would take it. It was a nice hallucination to have. These people took glee from their torment and would enjoy watching their deaths . 

If staring that truth in the face made them uncomfortable then Treech would happily take on the role of embittered mirror. They could keep watching and see their own monstrous reflections when they looked at him. It was their choice. It’s not like he could change the fact that some would look away to keep living the lie that told them they weren’t the worst that humanity had to offer, after all. 

“It’s not a waste. Everyone deserves comfort.” His voice was definitive because this wasn’t an opinion. It was a statement. “Even you. Especially you.”

Stares burned into his back. Not even once did he deign to glance in their direction. The devils at the door didn’t deserve to enter the house of the innocent, and six kids were gone . Another four were almost dead. They didn’t deserve acknowledgment from him. What they deserved was to see this and feel the last vestiges of their basic human decency clawing at them for what they’ve allowed themselves to become. 

“You’re in enough pain already Panlo. It might not do much but… Just imagine it’s food from home. Maybe it’ll make you feel like you’re not here anymore for a moment.” 

And Panlo’s smile was all Treech needed to know this was the right thing. This city was desperate to strip away every bit of humanity they had, but it could never take their soul. Their compassion was a foreign concept to the people populating this angelic-looking circle of Hell, and there was no way he’d let them take it from them. 

It was all they had. Each other, their dreams, and their souls. Dreams had started to crumble from the moment he’d realized he’d been thrown into a cattle car and dumped into a zoo. Six tributes were gone. Four would follow sooner rather than later. Eventually, they’ll lose everyone or be lost themselves. Their souls though? Those would live on forever in some form or another. Forever existing in nature, even when humanity itself had disappeared. 

So he gave a dead boy some of the precious rations they had because he didn’t deserve to die. But he would, so Treech would make sure he didn’t die hungry with only the remaining taste of dust on his tongue. And Lamina would do the same for the girl lying mere feet away. 

They would go with the taste of the best food they’d likely ever had in their mouths. Hopefully a reminder of home, given that it was their hard work that had created the bread they were given. If they were to go, it would be in the best possible circumstances. 

Panlo and Sheaf deserved so much better. As did Hy and Dill. As had the kids who were already gone. But they wouldn’t get anything better, so all they could do was lessen their pain as much as possible. If he’d died, and Lamina had been dying, he’d have wanted someone to do the same for her. It was the least he could do. It was all he could do. 

It would never be enough. 

Chapter Text

Every time Lamina believed she’d seen the depths of cruelty and dehumanization the Capitol would stoop to, they found a way to outdo themselves. 

It wasn’t just that they were being paraded around in cages for the funeral of two people she didn’t know (because this was explicitly about the two mentors, not about the five kids that had died as well). If it was just that, Lamina wouldn’t have found it out of the ordinary. While being separated from Treech made her feel cold and alone, it was nothing unexpected. 

No, all of that fit perfectly within the image of the Capitol’s usual behavior that Lamina had lived by so far. What truly made her realize that her low opinion had not been low enough, was right in front of her. Visible through the metal bars of the cage she and the other girls had been thrown into that morning. Unambiguous and sickening to the core. Somehow, they’d found a way to prove to her that her opinion of the capitol had been several mountains too high. 

Impressive, really, because she’d thought them so low they were kissing the devil’s feet. 

Yet here they were, sitting in a cage and forced to hear these disgusting, slimy snails talk about how amazing those stupid mentors were and how big of a loss their deaths had been. While the tributes were forced to watch the horses carrying the remains of poor Otto and Ginnee drag the corpses of Facet, Velvereen, and Sabyn over the ground. 

Lamina couldn’t look at them for too long, lest she throw up. How could these people, in the same breath, claim two people died too young and call children even younger in age cowards for wanting to live?! And give the twins closed caskets while showcasing two corpses and desecrating three others? How could they reconcile those opposing things?!

Well… she knew why. These slime balls saw the twins as people whereas the tributes were nothing but animals. The zoo enclosure had made that abundantly clear. At least Panlo and Sheaf weren’t fully dead yet, so maybe they’d be treated with slightly more dignity. Not a lot, but at least they wouldn’t be showcased. Hopefully. 

Curling up in the corner of the cage, Lamina looked over at the boys, hoping to catch a glimpse of her friend. But Treech was nowhere to be seen. Most of the cage was obscured by the figures of the larger guys, and he was decidedly not among their ranks. Somehow, despite the sun beating down on them, Lamina had never felt colder. 

At least Marcus got away, as far as she could tell. If they’d caught him, surely they’d have done the same to him as they had to Sabyn, Facet, and Velvereen. Maybe… Maybe two people could go home this year. He’d never be able to return to his normal life, forced to hide for years and change his appearance and identity, but at least he’d be alive to lament that fact. For a moment, Lamina wished she’d grabbed Treech and ran too. 

Then she took another glance at Velvereen and Sabyn, and the thought vanished like the birds for the rain. That could have been them. The tributes from 1 and 2 had been pretty close to the entrance. Much closer than Lamina and Treech had been, at least. If they’d tried to make a break for it too… It might have been five trails left in the dirt, rather than three. 

As much as she loathed to admit it, Treech’s unexplainable wish to save his useless joke of a mentor had saved them both. A thought she would keep to herself, because she would choose the fates of Sabyn, Velvereen and Facet than admit out loud that she was thankful for anything that blonde had ever done. Especially since the only thing that had stopped her from trying to escape was Treech telling her to help the girl. So really, it wasn’t even anything the mentor had done herself . And it was only then that blondie had started pretending to care about the person whose life she held in her hands! 

Yeah, Lamina wasn’t buying the supposed “change of heart” for even a second. Maybe if the blonde had been her mentor, but she wasn’t. And she’d seen what blondie had done in the hour she’d gotten to know Treech, which somehow didn’t make her care even a little bit. Treech didn’t deserve to be hurt the way he had been, and no amount of food could convince her that miss pigtails was actually going to step up and help the way Pup had started to. Not when it was her friend’s wellbeing on the line rather than her own. 

At least Pup hadn’t been cruel at any point, even when he’d been annoyed by her constant crying. Even back when he still saw her as nothing but an animal, he’d tried to be nice. And she could tell he’d already changed his mind. Pup let her call him by that nickname, rather than Pliny or Harrington. He’d brought her food and came to visit as often as he could, talking to her and trying to console her whenever another wave of tears washed over her. 

Not all of their conversations had been game-related either. Under any other circumstances, she’d have called him a friend already. But even if he’d only talked to her about the games, he was leagues above the privileged brat pretending she’d done anything for her tribute at all. As if Treech hadn’t charmed the crowd for food all by himself. Yeah, sure, blondie was doing all the hard work by never bothering to show up aside from yesterday. 

One instance wasn’t gonna convince Lamina of anything. To be completely honest, she wasn’t sure if there was anything the mentor could do that would salvage the image she had of her. That girl was dead to the lumberjack. If she was fine staying home in her plush little princess room letting the boy whose life had been put in her hands suffer and die, she could stay in there. Treech didn’t need her. Especially not with Lamina there to have his back. 

Pup would send enough food for the both of them, if they could draw in enough sponsors to pay for it. They would be fine, now that they were staying together. The District 7 duo. They would have each other's backs until the very end. Until they were inevitably ripped apart. One of them wasn’t going home, but as long as they were together they could ensure the other would board that train again. 

Quiet tears streamed down her face, and Lamina buried her face in her hands. No, no, she couldn’t think about that just yet. They had too little time left together for her to waste it worrying about the inevitable. She refused to let herself throw away even a single second she had left with him. It would only lead to regrets. Death would come, and if it took Treech away from her Lamina would not be left alone knowing she hadn’t gotten everything out of the time she’d had. 

She would not look back and think she could have gotten more. 

As if he’d heard her crying, the soft tones of Treech’s voice floated through the air. Though it was hard to hear over the sound of the funeral happening around them, it was unmistakably his singing. Slow like a lullaby. A farewell to the tributes who would not receive such a thing from the monsters that had killed them. Even Otto and Ginnee were killed by the Capitol, because they wouldn’t have been anywhere near this wretched city if it wasn’t for the games. 

But Lamina couldn’t even decipher the words her friend was singing. He was too quiet, too far away. Frowning, she peeked through her fingers around the cage. Finally, her gaze fell on Lucy Gray. The songbird, who had sung for Brandy during the funeral for the poor girl’s vile would-be mentor. As much as she hated the girl whose name she was still ignoring, at least she hadn’t been as bad as that spider lady. 

From a certain point of view. Then again, Brandy’s mentor had come to the zoo, even if she’d taunted a starving girl with food while basically handing her a weapon. And Lamina had seen miss pigtails take food away from Treech during the interviews. Which wasn’t even the worst thing she’d done that Lamina had witnessed! Perhaps the biggest difference that kept pigtails alive was that Treech was too nice to attack her. For some reason. 

"Oh come on, you’re crying again ?!" Coral suddenly exclaimed. "I cannot believe lumberjack chose to team up with you of all people!"

"I-" 

As much as she wanted to talk back, the words just wouldn’t come out of her throat. They formed, but remained stuck inside of her, leaving her with only sobs to express her feelings. Not of anguish anymore, but of anger and indignation. Not that the others would be able to tell the difference.

"Oh cut her some slack!” Sol ground out, annoyed. “Don’t tell me you’re happy to be stuck in here!” Whether she meant the cage, or the situation as a whole, Lamina didn’t know. 

"Well at least I’m not crying about it! That girl’s done nothing but bawl her pathetic little eyes out since before we got here! She’s not gonna live past the first five minutes, so why on earth did someone with at least some useful skills pick her?!"

Oh how desperately she wanted to tell them that, between the two of them, Lamina was more likely to take a life than Treech was. He was a performer, not a fighter. It had always been her to do the fighting between them. Back when they were younger, and people made fun of him, she’d been the one to defend him. 

Then they grew up, and it became unnecessary because he became popular. But he still ran away from his problems, rather than at them. That was Lamina’s job. He was their emotional rock, and she was their physical shield. A perfect combination. But she couldn’t bring herself to tell them that Treech would sob if he hurt a fly, let alone a human being. Instead, she addressed the songbird in their cage. 

"Lucy Gray?" She asked, voice quiet and rough. "Could you sing? For them."

She nodded at the dead tributes. The girl from 12 followed her gaze, watching the outside of the cage for a few seconds. For a moment, Lamina imagined it was the two blond mentors being dragged over the ground in front of them rather than two innocent kids. They’d at least done something to deserve such treatment. The mean girl with the sandwich certainly didn’t deserve to have such a big funeral, especially not with Brandy being treated the way she had been. That witch had been nothing special, yet had gotten the goodbye of a queen. 

It would’ve been ironic, the way they’d worshiped her and practically kissed her cold, dead feet during the speeches, if it wasn’t so unfair. And if they hadn’t strung Brandy up like an animal for daring to not let her mentor walk all over her. At least this time the funeral they were being showcased at like they were to blame for anything was for slightly less reprehensible people. The twins had been okay, as far as Lamina knew. 

"Yeah, I can sing."

Lucy Gray sounded determined. What exactly she was determined about, Lamina wasn’t sure, but she didn’t particularly care. She knew they were on the same page. None of them needed words to explain how they were feeling. They were in the same boat after all. And as Lucy Gray’s voice joined in with Treech’s muffled tune, she found she didn’t even mind the cage anymore. 

Now she could close her eyes and focus on the music. Nothing but the different melodies that somehow managed to blend perfectly together. Like Treech and Lucy Gray had planned things this way, though the girl from 12 was the furthest away from the boy’s cage as she possibly could be. It was impossible for the two of them to hear each other. 

Around her, the world seemed to fade. She could imagine being home, in the crowd as she watched Treech perform on stage. Uncaring of the weather or the late hour during the occasional night performances, fully prepared to ignore the story and the beautiful props and special effects. None of it mattered to her when Treech was right there on stage. Glowing with happiness as he beamed into the crowd. A gorgeous smile lighting up his face with clear pride at the end of a difficult part he managed to do perfectly. 

After every show, Treech would complain to their friend group about all the supposed “mistakes” he’d made, but Lamina had never been able to catch any. Not once had she ever looked at him up there and thought that anything he’d done was out of place. Every single movement seemed intentional, a masterful display of his acting skills. And perhaps that was why he was such a good actor. The best one Lamina had ever seen, yet he remained humble. Perhaps that’s why he was so beloved back home.

Or maybe it was his tendency to give and give and give, even when he had nothing. There was so much to love about him, all of his flaws seemed insignificant. Petty to focus on. So easily overshadowed by the light of his good qualities that even the meanest citizens didn’t hold grudges when he stole from them. And of course they didn’t, because he was Treech. Sweet, caring, and effortlessly charming Treech. Everybody loved him. 

Even the peacekeepers liked him. A few of them, at least. Specifically the ones from the fringe. From what she’d heard they were less cruel than the others in general, though she couldn’t be sure. Unlike Treech, she wasn’t from the poorest outskirts of District 7. What she was sure about was that they took every opportunity to avoid hurting him, which was the complete opposite of usual peacekeeper behavior.

Lamina didn’t remember a single time Treech had been tied to the public whipping block by someone stationed in the fringe. It was usually a peacekeeper from the lumberyard. They were also the group who punished the citizens the most, so that tracked. But it was always one from the fringe that untied him. At least every time Lamina had been there to witness it. 

It wasn’t much, but it was the nicest she’d ever seen someone from the capitol be to a district citizen until Marcus’ mentor had gone out of his way to bring everyone food. It was strange, but it was understandable. If Lamina were to think of one absolute, universal truth, it was a simple choice. Only a true monster could interact with Treech Meran for more than a minute and not soften just the smallest bit. 

Lamina couldn’t wait to return to the zoo. To make sure her district partner was okay, unharmed and safe . Because if either of them should go home, it was him. The district would be happier with his return than with hers. Treech could disagree all he wanted, she knew it was true. For now, she’d settle for hearing his distant song and wait for this to be over.

It couldn’t be soon enough. 

Chapter Text

Never before had Treech ever dreamed of setting anything on fire. Not the figurines he made for the stupidly wealthy, not the lumber they never got any profit from, not the peacekeepers’ bunkers, not even the whipping block in the city center. Never had such a thought ever even entered his mind. He’d never considered it an option. 

It was pretty tempting right now though.

Poor Facet’s previously pristine white clothing was covered in dirt and grime from the streets. Otto’s bloodied remains stained the fur of the horse he’d been slung over. Besides them was the cage with the girls, where Velvereen and Sabyn shared Facet’s face. Ginnee got the same treatment as her district partner. 

Their mentors were being honored like they’d ever achieved anything. As if they hadn’t gotten where they were with daddy’s plastic. Pure luck of being born in the right place to the right family was being treated as if it were a personal accomplishment. And Otto and Ginnee were being displayed like they were the crowning glory of their mentors’ greatness. 

And Treech had never wanted to watch a place burn so deeply before. 

Marcus was nowhere to be seen, confirming for Treech that he was still somewhere out there. Spared the humiliation, the desecration, and the disrespect. And the cage too, lucky him. Hopefully, the boy could stay hidden and get out of the city. For a hot second, he wished he and Lamina had run too. Then he looked back at Facet, and came to his senses. 

Yeah no, as fast of a runner as he was, he never would’ve made it out. And if he couldn’t make it out, Lamina stood no chance. She was the fighter. He was the runner. That’s what they were, a perfect compliment to one another. He sat quietly in the middle of the cage, the other boys spread out around him. From his spot, it was impossible to see his district partner, but he didn’t have the energy to move. 

Everything was just… so much right now. It felt physically draining. It was silent in the cage. No one spoke, because there wasn’t anything to talk about. Six tributes dead, and the games hadn’t even started. One could be anywhere, in any condition, and they had no way of knowing. Two had eaten their last meals already. Still alive, but not for long. They wouldn’t make it to tomorrow. 

Panlo and Sheaf were lucky, in a way. They weren’t being paraded around, at the very least. Not shamed for wanting to live, nor presented as a Capitol brat’s accolade. Just two kids in a zoo. On the wrong side of the bars. Gravely hurt and dying, but in privacy. It’s the most they would ever get from the Capitol. And they only barely got it. Avoided even worse treatment by mere minutes, if not hours . Treech wouldn’t be surprised if they were both dead by the time they returned to the zoo. 

Nine kids. A total of nine kids were dead, and in a few days that number would be up to 23. And the Capitol held the civilized people, did it? The districts were the vile animals here, they were the evil ones. Yeah sure. Whatever helped those assholes sleep at night. If Treech was to die here, his only wish was that he’d get to be a ghost and see the day someone forced the Capitol to see exactly what they were. 

Oh, he would happily dedicate his afterlife to haunting their dreams until they came to join him. It would be his pleasure, really. In fact, he’d offer to be the door guy of the afterlife just so he could spit in their faces and slap them down to Hell. The looks on their faces would be worth the tedium of waiting for them to finally show up. Though Treech didn’t know what he’d do once Vipsania came around. 

If he died, she’d have failed to win the prize. At the very least, he’d rub that into her overly makeup-caked face. Perhaps the reminder of losing to her classmates in one of the biggest “competitions” of her life would make her rip her perfectly styled hair out. It would be satisfying as Hell, given how grating it was to see someone have the time and money for such frivolous things as appearances . 

Sickle had the money to wear a different outfit each day, but not to bring him an apple? Of course. Her reasoning to not give him anything was… existent, but that didn’t mean Treech wasn’t slightly salty about it. Despite that, and everything else the girl had done, he didn’t think he could bring himself to truly laugh at her if she did end up suffering. If he could, he wouldn’t have burned himself and nearly broken his wrist to save her from being crushed by the collapsing ceiling. 

While she hadn’t been great, Treech didn’t hate her. Nor did he want Lamina to, though he understood why she did. If he’d been her, he’d have probably reacted similarly. Especially since he was 99% sure she’d seen what happened during the one-on-one interviews. But their roles weren’t reversed, and Lamina had a kind of nice mentor, so it was fine. 

Could Harrington be better? Yes. But he was Capitol, so they really shouldn’t expect much. And he’d been nice enough to bring extra food for Lamina once he noticed she shared with him. Besides, Harrington had looked happy when Treech had rejected Coral’s offer for her. Relieved, almost. Strange as it was, since if anyone had a chance at winning it was Lamina, it was a clear sign that he cared. 

If he had to judge, Treech would almost dare say Harrington may want her to win so she’d survive, rather than so he’d win the prize. Almost . A Capitol was still a Capitol, and he wasn’t gonna get his hopes up too high. It didn’t even really impact him, but Lamina deserved the best she could get. And besides maybe Marcus’ mentor, they probably weren’t gonna get anything better than Harrington. Treech couldn’t be more thankful that someone like him had been assigned to Lamina. His district partner. His dearest friend. 

He looked back out of the cage, to Facet’s pale, limp form. Unnaturally unreactive as it was dragged through grime and gravel. There wasn’t anything left in the body that could react. The poor boy had died because he’d wanted to live, and now he was being mocked for it by those stupid rich assholes. Sitting high on their golden thrones pretending they were so much better than some starving kids who only wanted to go home. Disgusting . 

This funeral was for two of the mentors. Otto’s and Ginnee’s, if he was correct. Treech couldn’t for the life of him remember their names. All he knew was that they’d been twins, and they’d gotten the crowd to clap along to the two’s silly dance in the zoo. Everyone outside had become a lot more festive after that. It made him want to vomit, thinking they could be so entertained by kids who were starved to the bone and desperate for food. 

On the bright side, they’d been a lot more willing to give food and water after that, so those two had been good for something . They’d shown up and had seemingly tried their best. To some extent. Like Harrington had, though Lamina wasn’t a performer. Neither were Ginnee and Otto, from what Treech could see. Everyone could dance, so he assumed it was the only thing they’d been able to think of on short notice. 

Treech didn’t grieve the two. He hadn’t known them, and as nice as they’d seemed they were still Capitol. Just like Vipsania, who’d grumbled about school assignments while he was days away from death . As if one grade was more important than the lives of 24 children. It probably was to her, but still. These two mentors had an entire city to grieve them. While he couldn’t see the girls, he could see Facet and what remained of Otto. They deserved to be grieved too. 

The Capitol wouldn’t, so it was up to the other tributes. They couldn’t do anything other than give their comrades as proper of a goodbye as possible in their circumstances. Outside of the boys, there was nothing inside that stupid cage, but he didn’t need anything. All he needed was his voice. He looked around, catching Tanner’s eye briefly. As soon as they did, the other looked away. 

“Would any of you mind if I sing?” He asked.

His answer was a whole lot of confused looks. Which made sense. If someone else asked to sing out of nowhere while looking at several bloodied corpses, he’d think they were a lunatic too. Hey, maybe they were right. Not like he would notice if he’d truly gone insane. People who lost their minds generally weren’t aware that they had, were they?

“Why?” Reaper asked, raising his eyebrow. 

“It’s like what we did for Brandy. I can’t really do anything for Velvereen, Sabyn, or Ginnee, but… But we can do something for Facet and Otto.” 

Hopefully, Lucy Gray would join him from the other cage. Then all five tributes would get their final song. In the zoo, they could quietly give their goodbye to Sheaf and Panlo. When all the visitors were gone, and the peacekeepers were far enough away they wouldn’t hear their soft singing. 

“Of course!” Hy said, then coughed. Violently. 

“You okay?” 

Reaper looked the most concerned out of everyone. Small, vulnerable Dill flashed through his mind. Did Hy and Dill have the same illness? Treech wasn’t sure what exactly they had, but both of them seemed to suffer mostly because of their lungs. It was almost funny how they were all so worried for each others' well-being when, in a few days' time, all but one of them would be dead. As if their subconscious was determined to defy the image the Capitol had made for them.

"Yeah," Hy coughed again, "I'm Fine."

Frowning, Treech reached over to pat him on the back awkwardly. Usually, he'd know what to do, but the looming threat of the games clouded his very being. All of these boys had to die if he or Lamina Were to make it home. Or. Not if, or . He wanted lamina. Things would be okay if she was here. She'd know what to do and help him keep his heart from racing quite so painfully. Even if it wouldn't work as well as it had back home, when things had become too much once again, it would help at least a little bit. 

But Lamina wasn’t here, and Treech was going to have to wait until they were finally let out of this tiny cage and back into their slightly bigger cage to see her again. Wonderful. How fun. Vipsania would probably tell him to be grateful they weren’t stuck in these cramped things all the time, and really, she was right. So correct. What a smart little Capitol Princess she was. And unbelievably kind too, bestowing such wisdom upon him. Truly, the tributes were undeserving of such an upgrade. The slightly bigger cage even had spots to hide from the audience gaping at them like he’d heard fish did! Such luxury. So generous of the Capitol. 

Good, gracious, kind Capitol. Exactly as Vipsania had proclaimed so proudly during the one-on-one interviews. And how truly upstanding of her to bother with some dirty little peasant boy like him. She ought to just let him die with how he’d spoken of his perfect overlords. The fact that they were letting even one of the vile district beasts out of the arena was a sign of their benevolence. Some medicine for the sick would be nice, but that would be entitled . And getting to go home would be very cool, especially without the required child murder, but that would be such a big ask, how could he ever dare? Inconceivable, really. He wasn’t even a real person, so who was he to demand silly things like human decency? The nerve of him. 

“Are you sure? Can I do something to help?” Treech asked Hy. 

“Not really. It’ll blow over in a bit, don’t worry!” Hy smiled. 

Treech was thoroughly unconvinced, but it wasn’t like he could force the universe to give him the power to help the other boy with whatever was ailing him. This wasn’t his first time running into incurable diseases. If that’s what this even was, which Treech didn't know for sure because only a doctor would be able to tell for sure. One for humans, at least. The veterinarian was a doctor yet she couldn't help them, after all. All people could do was be there for the person who was suffering. Which wouldn’t do much given their circumstances, but still. 

“You said you’d sing?” Mizzen asked. 

“Yeah.”

“Could you? Please? I like your voice.”

For just one second, he allowed his heart to break at how young the boy sounded. Mizzen was, what, 12? 13? Far too young to be here. They were all too young to be here. And briefly, he let himself regret not pushing Coral into letting Lamina join the alliance, if only just so he could’ve protected Mizzen from the cruelty of the games. 

“Of course!” He gave the kid a reassuring smile. 

“Thank you.” The grateful grin he got in return was precious. Too bad he wouldn’t be able to help keep it alive. 

Coral never would have agreed, no matter what he’d said. Too wrapped up in creating the strongest group in the games to even consider Lamina. Presumably, she was trying to protect Mizzen. That was what Treech read into it. And if she wanted to refuse someone just because they cried about a horrible situation then she could do that. Without him. 

Treech had made his choice. No amount of empathy for the young boy’s situation would change his mind now. It would be signing his own death warrant even more than the mayor already had when he’d called out his name days ago. Alliances would fall apart eventually, and he’d rather die for a girl he loved than for a stranger who saw him as a tool. 

And he would. He was going to die. No amount of strategizing or fantasizing in the dead of night would change the fact that Treech was going to die. Only one person could make it home, and it wasn’t going to be him. He wouldn’t let it be him. Not when nobody really wanted him back home. Yes, his family loved him, but they’d move on. They would learn to live without him. Treech was no one special. 

Lamina, though? She was extraordinary. A beautiful, one-of-a-kind flower in the middle of a field of grass. Unlike all the others, sticking out in the most magical of ways. Vipsania could admonish him for passing up a strong alliance for her all she wanted because she didn’t understand. How could she, when her biggest concern wasn’t even the life put in her hands? Worrying about a school assignment right in front of him as if he wasn’t about to die in the arena in a few days time. And as if his survival wasn’t her responsibility. 

No, his mentor didn’t get it, and Treech didn’t blame her. It wasn’t her fault. But he sure wasn’t going to take her advice blindly. Just because she didn’t have to worry about after the games didn’t mean he didn’t. And a life without Lamina? Was that even a life worth living? Treech couldn’t imagine it. Existing without that bright star around… The mere idea made him feel cold. 

“ I stand here all alone

The breeze flows quiet through my hair

I wonder, where’d you go?

You ran without me, how’s that fair?

Now you’re gone with the wind
Wish I could ask you where you went

These feelings, they’ve got me pinned

With their weight, while you ascend”

While his voice was quiet, he may as well have been shouting in their cramped little bubble. Not everyone was looking at him, like people usually did during performances. Some, like Reaper and Jessup, were looking outside of the cage. Treech couldn’t tell if they were looking for or at anything specific or just getting lost in thought. Others were staring at one spot, clearly not actually perceiving it. 

Following that example, Treech leaned back and let the words come to him. As easy as breathing. As easy as being happy when Lamina was around. The girl just had that effect on people, it’s why everyone loved her so much. It’s why she had to make it back home instead of him. People only liked him because she did. If it wasn’t for her, he had no doubt he’d be completely alone. They only made an effort to be around him because she wanted them to get along. He knew, because why else would they go out of their way to hang out with him?

“ You left us all behind

Ran ahead, no catching up with you

And you bet that I mind

Given all that we’ve been through

One day we’ll meet again

Whether that be soon or late

I might not know how or when

But I do know that it’s true, it’s fate”

It was like he was dozing off but without the sleep. His singing was lulling everyone into a sort of trance as they let the world wash over them. Everything outside of the cage was a hazy blur, barely even registering as real to him. He didn’t want it to be. It was so much nicer to just pretend those douchebags didn’t exist. 

Let them grieve their precious children while taking hundreds from the districts. So what if they wanted to hold onto some kind of moral high ground so badly? They could pretend until they were blue in the face for all Treech cared. It wouldn’t change the rot at their core. Every story would end one day, and when that ending came the world would look at these people with nothing but disgust. 

And if Treech got to see that day, he would laugh in their faces.

Who knew? Perhaps the mentor program would make that day come sooner. Jessup’s mentor seemed genuinely attached. At least she’d given the boy a weird kind of cream for his wound. Pup had turned out okay, even though Treech wasn’t fully sold on his change of heart. At least one of them would lose their tribute, and maybe it would be enough to sway them to try and change how things were. 

And if not, then they’d have the rest of their long worry-free lives to stew in the guilt of letting a child they were responsible for die in the arena. Either way, someone in the Capitol would feel the effects of what they were permitting to happen. If it wasn’t enough to save innocent kids, they’d have to make do with lifelong guilt and regret. 

What a wonderful world they lived in. 

“ Let the stars in the sky reflect our story

Our pages survive through fire and rain

Let us be freed of our chains and our worry

And may we no longer feel any more pain”

Briefly, he let himself wonder how it would look to set this city of horrors ablaze. Grab the gasoline and watch it all burn down for its crimes. Would he feel accomplished? Avenged? Or would he feel disgusting at having become the monster he hated so much? Would it even matter? They would no longer be able to hurt anybody else. And, at the very least, it would be a beautiful artistic masterpiece. The height of his career, becoming the main character in the stories they would tell about his actions. It was a nice dream to have. How pretty the flames would look, eating at every rotten corner in this pristine nightmare. A far nicer image then the thoughts about the arena. More enjoyable than wondering how all of them would meet their end, at the very least. 

He didn’t have to worry about who would make it out of the arena and who wouldn’t. Maybe he’d make it to the final two, maybe he’d die in the first two minutes. It didn’t matter. Treech would not let himself be the one who made it home as long as Lamina was alive. Let Vipsania throw a tantrum about losing her precious prize. She could live without it. 

Treech could not live without Lamina. 

Chapter Text

Time was a joke. 

A cruel, unfunny one. Someone should figure out a way to punch the universe in the face for ever coming up with it, because Lamina couldn’t think of anything as unfair as good moments passing by in a flash while bad moments lasted for a mental eternity. 

  Whatever the punchline was supposed to be, she wasn’t laughing. 

Instead, she was standing in line for the interviews. Just one more and she would have to go up on stage. The mere thought of it made her eyes burn with tears she tried desperately to contain. A whole crowd of people, watching a bunch of kids who would soon be dead to see which one they’d support. Here to decide their fates like they meant nothing. 

And it was dragging on forever, while the few peaceful days she’d gotten to share with Treech in the zoo had gone by in a blink. It was so unfair! Why couldn’t they feel like they’d lasted longer? Why was this the thing she had to experience more slowly?! Behind her, Treech hopped from foot to foot, clearly itching to move. Oh how she wanted to reach out to him and hold him close. It would comfort him as much as it would comfort her. 

But Lamina had to focus. They would need food in the arena, so she had to focus on getting them sponsors. Which meant talking and charming the crowd the way Treech did so effortlessly. However, Lamina couldn’t see how she’d ever be able to do so when the mere thought of going up on that stage made her want to break down. 

Dropping all the responsibility on Treech wasn’t right either, but… He was used to this. This was what he lived and breathed. Acting, performing, stealing the show. In the center of the spotlight, he thrived . And she shriveled like a dying flower. A plant that grew in the shade, killed by the sun beating down on the delicate petals of her blossom. 

Two opposites. One soaked up the light like it was all that kept him going, the other tried desperately to avoid it before she succumbed. One soothed with gentle hands and kind words, the other fought fueled by protective instinct. Warm comfort and cold determination. The sun and the moon. And yet somehow, he was her calm too. Her refuge from the world. A rock to keep her grounded. All Lamina could do was hope she could be a ray of sunshine for Treech too. A light to bask in when he was too tired to keep his own from dimming. 

Each other’s sun. Each other’s moon. Complimenting each other and fitting like puzzle pieces, forming a picture only they could ever understand. A picture she clung to as Pup gently pulled her onto the stage. Lights glared down at her, gleefully stewing in her misery as she sat down. They’d already decided to keep her skills as a surprise, so all she had to do was talk. Easy enough. Now if only there could be words growing in her throat rather than tears gathering in her eyes. 

“So, Lamina.” The man, Lucky, began with a smile. It was too fake. Even when Treech was faking, he looked a little genuine. A small spark of joy that remained in his eyes no matter the situation. This was an insulting mockery of his gorgeous smiles. “What do you want to tell us? Any plans? Strategies? Or perhaps there’s something back home you want to tell us about? Do enlighten us!” 

Wasn’t he the interviewer? Why was he asking her to introduce a subject? That was his job! They were going to throw her into an arena with a bunch of other innocent kids to die and now this ugly smug rat wanted her to do his job for him too?! This situation kept getting more and more ridiculous by the minute. 

“W-well…” She tried, stammering hopelessly as she tried to figure out what to say. 

Pup subtly squeezed her hand in support, and she returned the gesture gratefully. At least she had someone to lean on here. Words had never been her strong suit. That was Treech’s turf, and she was fully content leaving him to his craft. Just like he let her do the intimidating. Throwing down when necessary was her lane, and she was glad to stay in it. This whole ‘charming for the crowd’ thing was so far outside of her wieldhouse she felt completely unmoored. Adrift with nowhere to go and no way to steer. 

“I- Treech and I uhm… We knew each other back home… So…”

“They’ve formed an alliance for the games.” 

Pup, thankfully, jumped in. His voice was a little tight, but his grip was still gentle and reassuring. Okay, this could still work. With his lifetime of experience in Capitol socialites, surely Pup would know what to say to get wealthy sponsors. And if he didn’t, Treech could make up for it. With his skills, they’d be rolling in donations. It would be enough to get them through at least the early part of the games. 

“Oh, really now? How intriguing. What’s your connection?” 

“They were friends.” 

“Just friends?”

No, they were so much more than that. ‘Friends’ didn’t even begin to describe what they were to each other. Not even close. It didn’t capture the way they understood each other without even trying. The seamless fit of everything about them was lost in such a commonly used word. It almost hurt , the way it so achingly understated the way they needed each other in their lives. 

A life without Treech… was it even worth living? Perhaps it was a bit dramatic, but Lamina just couldn’t imagine missing someone who seemed to be her other half. Someone she was meant to share her fate with. And though he likely didn’t feel as strongly, he clearly didn’t want to leave her. He diminished his odds of surviving for her . Nobody would ever feel so strongly for her as she did for Treech, but even in this… She couldn’t help but feel he understood her in a way no one else could ever dream to. 

“Just friends.” Pup answered. 

“I suppose that’s for the better. After all, you’ll have to see each other go to win!” 

The burn in her eyes finally exploded as fresh waterfalls made their way down her face. How dare he?! How dare he say that as if it made anything better?! As if watching a dear friend die wasn’t a horrible nightmare to live through! What sick bastard would ever even suggest it?! Lamina couldn’t even begin to understand just how these people could be so- so twisted and ugly and rotten ! To so casually remind her that- that- 

That time was up for them. Tomorrow, the games would start. And one of them was going to die. It was over. Their peaceful bubble would be popped forever and only one would make it out alive and what if it was her ? How could she ever move on without that steady presence by his side?! But death… Death wasn’t an option either! 

“No, Lamina…” Pup whispered beside her. 

He turned back to Lucky, but none of his words registered to her. How could they, when she’d been so cruelly reminded of their situation? No amount of encouragement from Pup would change it, so how could it help? Her mentor didn’t understand. Didn’t seem to want to understand, in a way. The only reason he’d gotten food for Treech was because he’d seen Lamina would share no matter what. 

And that's why he wouldn’t get it. He only cared about her , he’d changed his mind about her . All the other tributes were still ‘district scum’ to him, including one of the most important people in Lamina’s life. So he didn’t really put himself into her shoes. Didn’t seem to grasp just how much Treech meant to her. Pup was great, but he wasn’t perfect. In this, he couldn’t help her. Not when only one person could make it out of the arena. 

Before she knew it, she’d been dragged backstage, and arms were wrapped around her. Familiar ones, a little too skinny to be healthy, yet muscular nonetheless. Stronger than they appeared to be. Comforting. Safe. Treech . What she wouldn’t give to stay here forever, able to bury her head in the crook of his neck and forget about everything around them. It was just the two of them in her little world. No worries, no fears, no impending doom, just… them. 

“Hey Lami,” that sweet voice whispered. Just for her. “You did great.” 

Home. That’s what it sounded like. Warm like tea with the best quality honey in all of Panem. Something to indulge in, a feeling to savor and keep close forever. Integral to her life in ways even she herself didn’t understand. It had always been there, and only now did she fully appreciate it. Now that she was about to lose it.

Now that she was about to lose him . 

Life was unfair, and Lamina was starting to believe that that was because the way the human brain worked was unfair. First perception of time, now this… it just kept piling up. Lamina wished it could stop. But of course, nothing could ever be that easy. Wishing for something wouldn’t make it happen. She’d wished on everything that she and Treech wouldn’t be reaper together. Yet all those nights spent staring at the sky didn’t stop them from ending up here. 

Life was cruel. Life was unfair. And life kept going no matter what anyone tried to do to make it stop. Especially when the people around them actively tried to stop them from even pretending it would. People such as that stupid blond currently whining at Treech to get on the stage. He should, probably, to regain the sponsors she likely lost them. 

But she didn’t want him to. All she wanted to do was wrap herself in his presence and drown in the comfort this boy seemed to be made of. No matter who it was, Treech could make them relax. Could make them feel heard and just a little less alone. That was a quality she’d always been able to appreciate, even before it had occurred to her he may one day no longer be there. 

After one more second of indulgence, she pulled back. Wiped her tears and managed a wobbly smile she knew wouldn’t fool Treech for a second. It didn’t need to. It just needed to remind him where they were. That way, he’d take the final steps away from her side. Out of her shade and into the spotlight where he belonged. Blooming like the gorgeous flower he was. Unmatched in beauty, in grace, in tenderness. Unlike anything else Lamina had ever had the pleasure of experiencing. 

“Go. We can- In the zoo…” 

Even when he frowned, her friend was the prettiest person in the room. Something about the soft lines of his face and the twinkle in his eyes set him apart from everyone else. That tiny glimmer of mischievousness hiding among the shine of kindness. A little kick of spice among the sweet flavors of his personality. 

“You sure?” 

She nodded quietly, sniffling. Soft hands held her face gently. So painfully gently, like she was a fragile, precious figurine. Like she’d seen him hold his gorgeous wood carving creations back home. If he considered her even half as stunning as those were, no one would be able to match her beauty. 

His thumbs wiped the tears off of her face, and their eyes met. And again, it was just them. For just a second, they gazed at each other like nothing else mattered. Then with one last swipe of his fingers, he let her go. The next thing she saw was his back as he followed his mentor onto the stage. It left her cheeks cold. Her vision empty. Her heart filled up with a yearning to be near him again. 

These feelings… they’d never been this strong. Or maybe they’d just been hidden deeper within her. Brought out and strengthened by the knowledge that this was all they had. Tomorrow, they’d be forced to fight for their lives. Eventually, they’d have to split. One way or the other, they’d be ripped apart. And Lamina wanted to savor every second she had with Treech now that she knew just how few she had left. 

But they were just friends. They’d never even considered being anything more, and now… Now it was too late to start. Lamina couldn’t do that to him. She couldn’t do that to herself . It wasn’t worth examining why she felt so strongly now. It would only mean wasting more of the limited time she had left. No, the priority was to make the most of what they had, not taint it with questions that wouldn’t matter in mere days. 

“How did you and Lamina meet?” Lucky asked. 

“Well it’s such a long while ago, sir, but I could never forget that moment!” Treech laughed. Genuine, somehow, despite the circumstances. “It was deep winter, you see, and we’d had no more money for food. None of my family could earn enough to support us anymore, so I’d gone out and begged in the warmest clothes I’d had.”

“Oh? And how many people in your family work?”

“All of us! My dad, my older brother and my baby sister.”

“No mother?” 

“Ma… Ma died during the war. She’d been out helping the injured. Wrong place wrong time, you know? Murai did his best to fill the void, but he was grieving too. More than me and Silvy, even. He remembers her the best, after all.” 

Lamina would never fail to admire the effortless way her friend managed to converse with people. How easily he talked about home without even a hint of hesitation. No tears, though he seemed to get close to them when discussing his mother. That had always been a touchy subject, yet he brought it up now. For sponsors. For sympathy . To humanize himself and, by extension, the other tributes too. 

A sob story, yes, but so much more. The way Treech talked, it was more like he was writing his own autobiography. Spelling out all the things he wanted the Capitol to remember about him when they watched him go into the arena to die. An insidious hook they’d swallowed eagerly. One they’d only notice when they realized they let him be forced into a fight to the death. Genius. And somehow, still entirely genuine. 

“My condolences.”

“I- Thank you. I know we’ve all lost too much during the war. I’d hoped my family wouldn’t have to lose another, but… Ah, my apologies! I didn’t mean to bring the mood down.” 

The audience cooed with sympathy. It wasn’t a mindless ramble. Those feelings were genuine, but Treech wasn’t letting them rampage all over the place. He kept them in check and used them to his advantage. Eliciting pity like this was entirely intentional. Lamina remembered his explanation of acting. How it wasn’t just imitating an emotion. It was drawing on one’s experiences and utilizing it to convey a similar feeling to the audience. 

And now, he was utilizing them to show these people how cruel they were. Condemning people not as unlike them as they wanted to believe. Children, at that. Children whose story they felt bad for. It wouldn’t hit them in time to save the tributes, but maybe it would help them through the early part of the games. Perhaps it would be what got one of them out. 

“It’s alright. So, where were we?”

“Oh, right! Lamina.” She could see a small smile forming on his lips. Entirely genuine. Not a semblance of acting to be found. “As I said, we had no food. I think I sat outside for hours, shivering and feeling my whole body slowly go numb. But no one could help. Everyone was struggling, you know. Can’t give what you don’t have yourself.”

“And the peacekeepers? Didn’t they help?”

“I…’m sure some wanted to. But I don’t know their situation.” 

Smart, not badmouthing the peacekeepers. Even though he had every right to. It wouldn’t go down well. Lamina remembered that winter too. The war had been so fresh in everyone’s mind back then… When she’d found Treech, he’d first attracted her attention because one peacekeeper kicked snow at his small, shivering form. It still made her blood boil a little thinking back on it, though she knew that most had gotten a lot less vitriolic over the years. From what she’d heard from her friends, the ones in the Fringe could even be nice. 

Although that change was good, it wasn’t anywhere near where it needed to be for an outright positive relationship between them and the districts. What they had was more… neutral coexistence. The one exception was, of course, the theater. It had an atmosphere that eliminated all that anger and hatred effortlessly. Maybe that’s where Treech got it from. Or the theater got it from Treech. Both were perfectly plausible. 

“Anyway, I remember the numbness fading to nothing. It was starting to get a little warm, even, and I had to resist taking my flimsy vest off.”

“Why didn’t you, if you were hot?”

“I would’ve died sir.” Treech laughed sweetly. “It’s your mind playing tricks on you. Makes you feel like you’re on the other side of the woods when actually you’re knocking on death’s door.” He turned to the audience. “I’m sure it’s a nice door, but I’d rather not see it for another couple of years!” 

Laughter filled the air. It made her feel slimy. Of course these people would laugh, they weren’t about to die! How could they listen to someone talk about near death with teary eyes and then laugh at the fact that 23 people would meet their end in mere days?! How could they rationalize it in their heads? It just didn’t make sense. 

“But I remember trying to move. I wanted to go home, even without food, but I couldn’t. My muscles refused. So I could do nothing but sit there, convinced I would die there. All alone in the cold with no one to comfort me or keep me company. It’s my worst fear, and it became my reality. Until someone wrapped a blanket around me.” 

And he looked over his shoulder, straight at her. A bright smile lit up his features. Her own lips pulled into a small one as well. With nothing but his eyes, Treech conveyed so much to her. Gratitude, affection, appreciation… It warmed her up, like she had warmed him up all those years ago. A fuzziness grew within her, making her feel lighter than a feather. 

Cozy like home. That’s what Treech felt like. A sunny day with a few hours of free time. Relaxation and the simple pleasures in life personified. Everything good in this world, wrapped up in the breathtaking boy who stole everyone’s attention simply by being there. A person she never wanted to go without. 

“Lamina?”

“Indeed! She tried to talk to me, but I was incoherent. She could have left me there, and no one would have known. No one else would have seen me the way she did. But she didn’t. Instead, she took me inside her own home. Her parents helped warm me back up, they gave me food even if it meant less for them, and they let me stay until they found a way to safely return me home.” 

“How sweet.” 

Lucky’s responses, usually so filled with flare, paled to nothing in comparison to Treech. Her friend’s delivery, his voice and emotions and demeanor… Unrivalled. He was unrivalled. Not even a career presenter like the guy with the stupid moustache could dim his light, let alone dare dream of outshining him. With everyone else, Lucky ran the show. Now, though? He was pulled along like a child in a crowded square. Entranced by Treech’s tale, just like everyone else in the room. 

“It was! I’ll never forget the way pa looked when he opened the door and saw me there, alive and well. One of the few times I ever saw him shed a tear. Murai didn’t cry, but it was a near thing. I don’t think Silvy fully understood what was happening.”

And so they continued. About half the interview was just Treech talking. Charming the crowd so effortlessly one would think it was unintentional. Then he offered to lighten the mood with a performance. A dance that made people laugh and cry out in awe. A show of skill none of these people understood the significance of. 

Pup seemed tense beside her. He’d likely expected Treech to show off his ax skills, but fighting skills had been shown before. They wouldn’t draw attention, and that’s what they needed to do. Get attention on them. People would assume they knew how to use an ax just because of their district. What they needed to see was personality, and boy did Treech have that in spades. 

He made hundreds cry, then made them laugh. Made them cheer then made them fall silent with awe. Every single person in the room was wrapped around his finger, and she wasn’t sure if he was even aware of it. After all, he never seemed to realize how entrancing his acting skills were either. This kind of effect was one he only achieved when he himself couldn’t perceive it. 

But that was okay, because it would reflect in their sponsors. In the amount of food and water they’d get in the arena. That was all the proof either of them needed. In the end, it didn’t matter what these people thought. What mattered is that they would be okay when push came to shove. And they would be now. Because of Treech. 

He was doing his part, and once the bell rang she’d do hers. She was the fighter, and she would fight for them. It was his turn now, and he was performing flawlessly as always. Once it was her turn, she’d return the favor. Things would be okay so long as they were a team. Perfect compliments to one another, holding what the other lacked. The sun and the moon. 

It would end soon, but not tonight. Tonight, she’d enjoy watching the last show she’d ever get to witness. She’d drink in everything about her favorite performer one more time and hope this moment could live on in her dreams until the end of time. 

She’d admire the flower, for she’d break once it withered. 

Chapter Text

Entertaining new peacekeepers used to be the most exhausting part of performing. He’d spent a lot of time back home complaining about how annoying it was to see their angry scowls souring the mood of the audience. 

If Treech ever saw home again, he’d go to every single peacekeeper he’d ever talked about and apologize profusely for how clearly he’d failed to give them credit. 

At least it was an active distaste. A semi-understandable hatred that almost always died out in a few weeks as they got used to the tentative peace between the citizens and their jailor-adjacents. In fact, they tended to come around to the relaxed theater atmosphere in hours. By the end of the show they were awkwardly smiling and clapping along to bombastic musical numbers and charming band songs. 

These people were crying about a fate they had created. They were laughing along to his performance and sending him money because he’d entertained them enough for them to think maybe the filthy little beast was worth leaving alive. Not deserving of life, but useful enough to not let die. Kind of. He was still going into a death match. It was just that he had a slightly higher chance of surviving. Yay. 

Treech was pretty sure he’d done alright. The crowd seemed to like him fine, though he had no idea how useful he’d been to Lamina. If anyone had garnered sympathy, it was her. And the best way to get sponsors was by acquiring sympathy. People like that acted out of emotion, so the best way to get them to do what they wanted was to evoke strong feelings. And, well, what feeling was stronger than sorrow? 

Her sobs had been genuine, he knew that. Though he couldn’t help but hope she could set herself over his inevitable demise soon enough. One of them had to be okay with his death and it certainly wasn’t going to be him. And he was going to die. No matter what happened, he was dead. If Lamina didn’t make it, neither would he. So she had to live. Especially because everyone back home would be so much more distraught by his death than hers. 

That was fine. He didn’t begrudge his friends for liking her more, mainly because he would choose her over himself too if he was in their shoes. Heck, he was doing exactly that while in his own shoes! It wasn’t a dramatic betrayal or an emotional realization, it was just a fact. Lamina was a better person than he could ever hope to be, and that was that. Nothing he did would change it. Nor did he want to, really. 

Maybe he used to, at first. When the knowledge had first set in. But it had been so long that he didn’t even remember the exact moment it hit him anymore. Now it was just another fact to him. A truth not unlike the order of phases in a stage production. A play was chosen, actors were cast, lines were memorized. First rehearsals, then the show, then sorting through the crowd’s donations to see what they’d gotten. Props had to be made before they could be used. That’s just how things were. Other orders of events just didn’t exist. And people preferring him over Lamina didn’t exist either. 

Aside from maybe his family, but Treech didn’t really want to think about them before he spiraled. One less mouth to feed wouldn’t make up for losing two jobs worth of income, and they were struggling enough as it was. Now Silvy would have to get a second job to try and compensate, and Murai and dad would have to work even harder! But Silvy wouldn’t be able to learn anything in a flash, not when they’d all thought she’d have more time. When they’d hoped she’d never have to learn anything else. 

And Murai and Dad couldn’t possibly take on a new job. There weren’t enough hours in the day for it. They’d have to rake in hours with what they were already doing. It would make them miserable! And to top it off, they wouldn’t get any of the earnings from the theater unless his troupe gifted them. Treech couldn’t help but doubt they cared that much about someone like him, even though they liked him well enough. It just didn’t make sense to him.  

Nothing about him was special or noteworthy. He was just… him . And the fact that his friends called themselves that was utterly baffling to him. Not that he was complaining or anything, he was just… puzzled. Perplexed at the idea that anyone would ever willingly hang around him. His and Lamina’s mutual friends had a plausible explanation, but his other friends? Treech didn’t understand them. 

Well, it didn’t matter anymore. He’d never get a chance to understand them, because he only had a few days left to live. And he hated it. Because he didn’t want to die, but living wasn’t an option. He was screwed , and to be honest he had no idea what to do about it. Was there anything he could do? Getting over that fear of dying was not an endeavor that was likely to end in success, and Treech was rather sick of failing. All he wanted was one small victory. A tiny little triumph to cling on to in his last moments. 

Seemed like he couldn’t even have that. 

With a sigh, Treech curled further into the strong arms wrapped around him. They kept him warm despite the absence of his vest’s comforting weight on his upper body. The thick fabric formed a barrier between them and the cold stone they were laying against, protecting them from its sharp edges. Lamina had tried to tell him it wasn’t necessary, but he’d insisted. He wasn’t cold anyways. Not with her right there. 

A hand carded through his curls, just like they had right after the bombing. His concussion was all but a memory now. Technically, it was still there, but aside from the occasional sting of a headache and some very rare waves of dizziness there was nothing to signify it had ever been there. He’d have to be careful with it during the games, but as long as he stayed with Lamina things would be fine. 

Any wrong move could mean his death. Treech knew that. But if there was no one around to take advantage of that wrong move, he’d be fine. Besides, Lamina was there. She could take all the remaining tributes no problem. Jessup and Reaper were the biggest gray areas aside from the pack, but they weren’t stupid. They were kind. All Lamina and Treech had to do was meet up on the beams like they’d discussed. 

As soon as they were up there, they were safe. The pack couldn’t outnumber them, and if some other lone tribute tried anything he could climb down and go up on the other side to surround them. Perfect. Like the two of them. Never one without the other. Making up for each other’s weaknesses and pulling each other back to the middle when they went too far in one direction. When Lamina forgot to care for herself, Treech was there to remind her. When he got too far in his head, she pulled him back out. If he told her about his worries, she’d no doubt reassure him. Which is why he wasn’t telling her. They both had too many other things to worry about already. 

Besides, he could exist without her. A life without her was impossible, but his body would survive. And that’s all it needed to do, when Treech already know he wasn’t making it out of that arena. One way or the other, he’d be gone. So really, he wasn’t even trying that hard. All he had to do was keep the sponsors up for as long as he was around and make sure Lamina made it to the end. Once that was done, his job was finished and he could take a break. A rather long one. Try eternal . 

The thought filled him with… surprisingly little. No positive emotions, obviously, because early death by gladiatorial games hadn’t exactly been high on his list of things he wanted to do, but he’d expected something . Some kind of feeling. Yet all he felt was a pang of fear for his family. What would they do after watching his demise? Could they make up for the two missing incomes? Would the community be able to help support them a little? Would they be able to cope with the grief?

Aside from that, there was a small amount of trepidation for how he would die. Thoughts of who would deliver the final blow swirled in his head. Not a storm, surprisingly enough. None of those explosive, allconsuming, overbearing whirlwinds he’d heard described in stories. No big performance pieces or frenzied singing to the exhilarating swell of the music. Just a little breeze of wonder as he wished for one last mercy. A quick death. No drawn out suffering, just one hit he didn’t see coming. 

It was the best one could get in the arena, and Treech selfishly hoped that would be his fate. Even if it meant Lamina wouldn’t be able to say goodbye to him. No dramatic last words or a heartbreaking scene as the light left his eyes or whatever. Perhaps it was cruel to want to deny his friend some last minute revelations, but he couldn’t help himself. That’s what he wanted. Dead on impact. At least then he wouldn’t have to worry about what came next. He wouldn’t have to know . 

“Treech!” 

Blinking his eyes open, he hazily registered that he had, in fact, closed them. Huh. Wonder when that happened. He tilted his head to the side, gaze sliding over to the side of the enclosure. Specifically, the blond with perfect curls and immaculate makeup, a vibrant bloody red in the sea of today’s last visitors. The last people who’d see him alive, in the flesh, and live to tell the tale. Aside from Lamina. Because she would be the victor. Treech would make sure of that if it killed him. Which it would. 

With a sigh, he untangled himself from Lamina and whispered a hushed apology at her unhappy grumble. His friend glared over at his mentor, and he gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze in hopes of soothing her obvious annoyance. It… kind of worked. At least she wasn’t glaring quite so angrily anymore, which was good. A step in the right direction! Or so he hoped. 

“Sorry Mina, I promise I’ll only be away for a few minutes.”

Her stare alternated between him and his mentor a few times as she contemplated his words. Good thing she knew to put her feelings over necessities in their situation. That meant she’d be fine after his inevitable death. She’d be able to prioritize living over grieving him. Good. That was good. Perfect. Lamina laid her hand over his for a moment before letting go. 

“Fine.” 

Shooting her a reassuring smile, Treech made his way over to his mentor. Memories of their last encounter before the interviews flashed through his mind. He remembered the awkward atmosphere, mostly. At least during the interviews they’d had something to focus on. What could Vipsania possibly want now ? The games were tomorrow , too early for any mentors to come visit them again. Not a lot of time for last minute restrategizing. 

If they had significant holes in their plan now , they were pretty much screwed. To be honest, he’d rather not know. Dying blissfully ignorant of his fate felt a whole lot more appealing than seeing it coming for several hours and being unable to do anything about it. Neither were really good, but relatively speaking… 

“Hey Sickle.” 

He managed a somewhat casual smile. It wasn’t returned. Vipsania, who had already looked vaguely upset, seemed to feel even worse now. Her shoulders slumped down and her face was twisted in an ugly expression. That usually perfect mask was in tatters on the floor and Treech had no idea what to do about it. 

“Treech, hello. Sorry, I thought- You’re still here-”

“Well yeah. Where else would I be?” He raised an eyebrow. “Can’t exactly leave , now can I?”

“R-Right. Sorry.”

Well that was… Strange… First time he’d ever heard her apologize for anything , and it was to him? He’d be honored if he cared significantly about her opinion. Pity they weren’t exactly on that level yet. They’d gotten all the way from where they’d started to tolerating each other, and that’s as far as they’d ever get. A mere ‘could have been worse’. 

“Something wrong?” He couldn’t help but ask, because he wasn’t heartless . “You look like you’re bothered.”

“ Bothered ? Treech, I- Nevermind. Don’t worry about it.”

“But-”

“Worry about yourself for once.” 

Her eyes slid over to Lamina for a moment, before returning their attention to him. Such a small movement made the message abundantly clear. ‘Worry about yourself’. Don’t worry about others. Don’t focus on your district partner. Well, too late for that. Instead of vocalizing his thoughts, Treech looked down quietly. 

“I… I brought you something.” She reached into her pocket and took out something that glimmered in the light. “Thought you might like it.”

With a moment of hesitation, he reached between the bars and took it from her hands. He tilted his head at it as he unwrapped it. A brown square. Fancy patterns at the top like a wood carving. Houses, flowers, simple decorations. Turning it over a few times, he assumed it was some kind of treat. What else could it be? Finally, he took a little bite. 

Flavour burst in his mouth, overtaking all of his senses. Sweet and fruity and unique in a way he couldn’t describe. It made him crave for another bite, but he forced himself to chew slowly and savour every second. When the explosion in his mouth finally cooled down, he swallowed. The loss was immense, and Treech didn’t hesitate to take a second bite. 

“You like it?” 

Nodding his head enthusiastically, Treech let a noise of contentment slip out. This was better than anything he’d ever eaten before! Even that one really nice slice of bread he’d gotten his hands on after nearly a week without food didn’t compare! It was downright heavenly and seeing the tiny piece get smaller and smaller was like actual torture. 

“It’s chocolate. I brought more. Here.” 

Vipsania seemed even more unbearably off her game than during their preparations for the interview. It was strange to see her composure in shambles like this. But he didn’t comment on it. Not when a bag full of those heavenly  little treats was offered through the bars of the zoo. Instead, he grabbed a hold of it and pulled it close to his chest. 

“Thank you!” He smiled brightly. 

As he took another bite, he couldn’t help but notice the way his mentor seemed to soften. Seemed to, because he knew he was imagining things. This was Vipsania Sickle they were talking about. Why would she go soft for a simple tool like him? All she needed was for him to win her the prize, and that was it. Nothing more, nothing less. She’d made that very clear the first time they met, during the one-on-one interviews. 

When she’d showed up at the zoo after the bombing, it had just been to talk more strategy. Clearly she felt the games had been changed enough that she needed more time to talk to him. Nothing more, nothing less. Though he didn’t fully understand why she’d brought food, since she’d been so adamant on not feeding him. Performing got him sponsors, so she’d made him perform. Had forced him to by taking away his other options. During the one-on-one’s, she’d taken food too. A cold reminder of who was in charge. 

Back then, she’d been distant and uncaring. Like it was business as usual. Someone putting a disobedient pet they didn’t even like in its place rather than a rich kid starving a poor kid just because they could. Then after the bombing, she went against everything she’d said before. It was… weird. Treech didn’t know what her plan was here, but he’d rather enjoy the chocolate than worry about it. 

So long as he remembered Vipsania didn’t care, he’d be fine. Getting attached was stupid, because it would be one-sided. Half a week of starvation weighed heavier than the half a week of feeding him. It could be another ploy he didn’t understand yet, and since that was the more likely explanation of her behavior it’s the one Treech chose to go with. Here’s to hoping Pup sent Lamina enough to keep them both going. Vipsania wasn’t gonna send him anything unless she had to. 

“Uhm, Treech?” 

Humming to show he was listening, he devoured the remaining piece of his second chocolate. Time to slow down a little. If he wasn’t careful, he’d eat them all without realizing. Pup had gotten Lamina some during the preparations for the interviews, but maybe she hadn’t tried this kind yet. So Treech was holding on to at least one, just in case. The rest was his though. It was so delicious! 

“About our first meeting…” 

She trailed off immediately, clearly searching for words that refused to come to her. So no solid plan. There’d been something she wanted to do or say and she hadn’t thought beyond that. How unusually impulsive… He blinked at her slowly, eyes wide with curiosity. This was not territory he knew how to navigate. Open hostility or uncaring distance was easy to work with. Ten years of surviving around peacekeepers made it second nature. But this? 

This was confusing. Unexpected and undecipherable. Usually, all he needed was to know what someone was feeling to figure things out. Now, he knew she was upset. Some mix of angry and sad, if he had to guess. But that just made this whole situation more baffling. If she was upset, why was she here? What was she doing in the zoo of all places, talking to someone she couldn’t care less about? 

Someone whose life was in her hands. Someone who was going to die in days, and she didn’t even know it yet. Well she knew it was possible, of course, just not that it wasn’t a question. It was a certainty. One Treech had spent a whole week coming to terms with, and one he’d finally managed to accept. Sort of. Vipsania wouldn’t care either way, and it was better that way. While she hadn’t been great, she didn’t deserve to live with such a massive weight on her shoulders. Especially since her life expectancy was so much longer than his. 

“I just wanted to say, well I… When you…” 

The only time he could remember her stuttering like this was during their preparation hour for the interviews. Specifically when he’d asked her about her life and goals and family. That small moment fluttered back into his mind as he waited for his mentor to formulate proper, understandable sentences. 

( “W-what?” 

“Your family. What’re they like? Any brothers or sisters?” 

The puzzled expression on her face turned to determination. Cold, hard steel. Like she’d cracked the code and didn’t like what she found. Almost as if she thought she’d discovered some kind of evil plot targeted at her specifically. Her calculating gaze split open to reveal something akin to fear. Which made no sense. She wasn’t the one who was about to die here. All Vipsania would have to do was sit in her chair and press some buttons. 

“Why are you asking? What do you plan to do with this information?”

Annoyance flashed through him. Annoyance and frustration at how out of touch these Capitol folks managed to be. Acting like they were the scared and hard-done-by ones when they had the luxury of turning away when kids died. 

“A better question is what could I do.” Treech mumbled bitterly. Then he took a deep breath and answered properly. “Just tryna get to know you. I’m sick of rambling about 7’s horrid building structure safety standards.”

“You shouldn't do that anyways, we need to focus!”

“Oh please,” he rolled his eyes, “you said the interview’s for sponsors?” 

She nodded, and he flashed her a confident smirk. Somehow, despite it being an integral part of her strategy, she’d completely missed that he was an entertainer. Well, he didn’t need her stamp of approval anyway. He just needed her to let him do what he did best: Steal the show. Shine like a star under the spotlights. 

“I’ve got it. Doubt you could add much anyway.”

“I… suppose that’s true. But why do you care about my life?”

“You’re my mentor.” 

“And?”)

“I just… Take care. During the games.”

Surprise washed through him. Well that was unexpected. Then again, she said this was about the first meeting right? Right, he was being stupid. This wasn’t a show of care, she was just reminding him of her motivations here and they weren’t his wellbeing. During the one-on-one’s she’d made it clear her only goal was winning the prize. 

Her telling him to take care was in relation to that. Looking for anything deeper than that was just gonna end up hurting him in the end, when he inevitably came to the conclusion that there wasn’t anything deeper. Just her selfish desire to win the prize, partially because of the scholarship and partially just for the win. 

For a moment he really thought she might be showing some genuine care, shallow though it may be. And it was stupid. He was being stupid. Dumb and stupid and idiotic and whatever other word he could attach to it. Vipsania Sickle hated to lose, as she’d said herself within five minutes of meeting him. All she cared about was winning. End of story. 

(Thinking it over for a second, Treech stood up from the chair he’d chosen to sit on. Instead, he walked through the empty space in the classroom. In the middle of the empty circle, he gave a little twirl. Then he flitted over to one of the tables shoved to the side and pushed himself onto it. One leg propped up on the desk, the other dangling off. Much more comfortable than that chair had been. He gestured for her to take a seat next to him. 

It wasn’t just that it felt more casual, it felt more free than the chair too. That thing reminded him too much of his previous meeting with his mentor. When they’d chained him to a table like a deranged danger to society and he’d been treated like a sort of sentient tool. Things were better this time. He’d rather the memories be as separated as possible for the remaining (scarily short) duration of his life. 

“I’d like to get to know you a little.”

“But- But why ? Why does it matter to you?!” 

“Why not?” He shrugged. 

“Because you don’t need to know anything when-”

She stopped short. Sudden and without warning. Light skin paled further to the point where Vipsania could be mistaken for a ghost. Treech tilted his head, blinking at her from his spot on the table. Confusion must’ve been clear on his face, given how painfully strong the emotion was inside of him. His mentor gasped in something he would’ve mistaken for horror if it were anyone else. But what did Vipsania have to be horrified about? 

“When I’m about to die?” He took her choking on air as confirmation. “That’s actually why. Sure would be a shame if my last days were spent talking about myself. So boring, don’t you think? So! How ‘bout it?”)

“Obviously.”

Brushing his curls out of his face, he took another bite of chocolate. Hesitantly, he shot her a small smile. It melted off within seconds. Holding positive energy was nigh impossible with the fear of what happened tomorrow hanging over him like storm clouds. A last moment of calm before the hurricane hit. 

“Don’t forget there’s plenty of people in the world. And there’s a whole lot of them waiting for you back home.”

There’s a whole lot of them waiting on Lamina too. On Mizzen too. Coral and Tanner too. Crowds were waiting for Lucy Gray to return to the stage. People had been waiting for Panlo too, and none of them had been there to give him one last meal. Treech had taken on that role, letting him taste the fruits of his labor at least once before his death. 

The people who’d hoped for Facet, Velvereen, or Sabyn to come home had seen them dragged behind horses instead. Otto and Ginnee’s friends and family with the misfortune of owning a TV had seen their bloodied remains paraded around. Out of all of them, Treech couldn’t imagine being in any place other than the bottom of the list of people who deserved to go home. All the tributes deserved to go home. 

(His leg dangled in the air, moving back and forth. It was a mindless action. Something he did back home too, unsure as to why. Hardly like it mattered. Swaying his leg was such an insignificant little thing. He did it without a thought, barely realizing he was doing it, yet Vipsania’s eyes focused on it for several seconds. 

“I- Bu- You-” She took a deep breath, before walking over and sitting down on a table near to him. More casual than he’d ever seen her before, though still very formal and looking every bit the Capitol elite she was. “I have two older siblings. My brother’s the middle child, my sister’s the oldest. I had another sister, but she died during the war.”

“Oh… I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s okay, I didn’t know her. She left before I was old enough to remember her, and she didn’t have contact with my mother or father anymore.” 

Despite her words, Vipsania seemed a little sad. Perhaps it was more the possible relationship than the actual sibling that she grieved. A person she could’ve known enough to cry for, but would never get the chance to. It wasn’t something he’d experienced himself, but he could imagine such a thing. 

“Anyway, I plan on getting into university,” Which was the only reason she cared about the games. The only reason she hadn’t completely left him in the dirt. Yet . “I plan on studying law there like my father did.”

She looks him over. A brief glance over his posture with an expression that betrays nothing. Then their eyes meet, and she holds his gaze. It could’ve been one blink or it could’ve been hours. Treech couldn’t keep track with those intense eyes burning into his. Strangely enough it wasn’t uncomfortable. Just strange. And a little scary, though not necessarily because of her. More because of their situation. 

It wasn’t that he believed she’d attack him or anything. Not when she still needed him for her own gain. No, the thing that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up was that she could . Without any consequences whatsoever. If she hurt him, maimed him, killed him… No one who would want to do anything about it was in any position to. Vipsania wouldn’t hurt him, but no one would stop her if she wanted to. 

“But I think…” She hesitated, glancing away before turning her eyes back to him again. “I think I might go into medicine instead. Or architecture.”)

“Anything I don’t know?” He asked teasingly. “Of course I ain’t just gonna let myself die like that. Wasn’t planning on going so soon, you know?”

“Right. Of course. Be careful, okay? Nothing will matter if you-” She halted, sounding a little higher than usual. “You have to stay out of danger.”

Behind her, a peacekeeper called out and began approaching. The sun was almost down, so the zoo was probably about to close. This was the last time he’d ever see his mentor. Even if he wasn’t particularly close with her, the idea of never seeing her again left him feeling strangely melancholy. It would only be a few days before he’d kick it, but still. That was a few days of contemplating whether they could’ve been friends if she hadn’t been raised to see him as a vile beast deserving of death. 

Maybe. It wasn’t unfathomable. From what he’d seen of how she was with the other mentors, she seemed like someone he’d get along with pretty well. He liked her snippy remarks, similar enough to his own despite being a lot more biting than he’d ever be able to bring himself to be. But it didn’t matter, because he wasn’t human to her. He was a tool that would break soon. 

“I will, I promise.” He frowned slightly. “Though I thought the winning mentor would be the one with the most entertaining tribute?”

“Wait, what?! No, that’s not-”

“Miss, you need to leave.” 

The peacekeepers behind the approaching one had their hands near their guns as they stared him down. Treech obediently took a step back from the bars. Somehow, Vipsania looked even more upset than when she’d arrived as she addressed them. In the span of minutes, she’d broken her record of visible emotion shown before her tribute twice . 

“Wait, one more minute!” She cried desperately, whipping back around to face him. “Treech, that’s not what I meant! I- It’s not about that!” 

One of the peacekeepers grabbed her arm, showing no reaction at her surprised gasp. She angrily yelled at them to stop, though he almost dared say there was a hint of despair in her tone too as she fought to remain where she was. Worriedly, Treech took a small step forward, reaching out with one hand. The bars splicing through his vision stopped him dead in his tracks. Right, he couldn’t help her even if he wanted to. 

A horrifyingly familiar click made him step back as his eyes shifted to the peacekeepers behind his mentor. Vipsania’s eyes did too. They widened in panic as she frantically waved her free arm at them. Treech backed up a small amount more, clutching the bag of chocolate close to his chest. 

“Don’t! Don’t you dare shoot him!” She turned back to him, helpless to stop the tall man from dragging her away. “I’m sorry! I-”

What was she apologising for? Treech couldn’t think of anything he’d seen her feel sorry about, so why? Why was she saying this? It made no sense to him, but saying nothing would be cruel. Clearly, she was upset. And this was his last chance to say something to her directly. Without a camera on one end and a screen on the other. 

“It’s- It’s okay!” He tried, attempting a smile. If her facial expression was anything to go by, he failed miserably. “Thank you for the chocolates!” 

Then she was out of earshot. For a few more moments, he watched. Unable to do anything but see what was happening on the other side of the cage. Then, quietly, he turned around and made his way back to Lamina. His district partner was watching the interaction with an unreadable expression on her face, which was rare for her. Usually she was an open book. Then again, that could be due to his own confusion about his emotions. 

If he didn’t know what he was feeling himself, how could he even begin to hope to figure out the emotions of others? Shrugging it off, he sat back down in the spot he’d previously occupied. Whatever, it didn’t matter. Not for now, when he was free to sink into his friend’s embrace and forget everything for a bit. He’d figure things out tomorrow. Or never. 

Quietly, he took out another chocolate. That vibrant Academy red was completely gone. Not even a glimpse in the distance. This was it. His last meeting with his mentor was over and he’d never see her again. She’d watch him through the screen until all that was left to watch was his broken, cold body. Hopefully she wouldn’t be too upset about losing the scholarship.

“Want one? It’s fruity.” He took one for himself and offered another to Lamina, who took it with a slightly strained smile. “Berries, I think?”

She took a bite herself, letting out a pleased noise before inspecting the treat. Kind of like he had, earlier. For a moment, he contemplated whether they’d be searched before the games. Then he remembered that they hadn’t been searched even once. Clearly, these people didn’t care what they may have on them. So he stuck two chocolates in his pocket and closed it up to make sure they wouldn’t fall out. 

“It’s strawberry.” Lamina concluded.

“ This is strawberry flavoured? But it’s so strong!”

Lamina’s laugh was heavenly. A little loud in the best way possible, wrapping around him like the warm glow of a fire in winter and warming him up from the inside. It filled his chest with cosy fluff. Treech could listen to it for ages and never get tired of it. Probably the only sound in the world he wouldn’t mind being the last one he heard. 

“They concentrate it down so it’s stronger.”

“That’s a thing we can do?”

Looking up at her face, Treech was absolutely knocked off his feet by her beauty. Not because he’d never noticed it, but because it never failed to stun him speechless for at least a few seconds. Only his acting skills saved him from embarrassment. They saved him this time too as they conversed in hushed tones, laying together to watch their last sunset without mortal danger. Vipsania had told him to remember there were other people, but he didn’t see how that would be relevant. 

They weren’t Lamina. Couldn’t even begin to grasp the mere concept of planning how to try and get near her level. Not on it, near it. So why would he care? Yeah, there was more to his life than his friend, but that didn’t mean her death wouldn’t destroy him. Was there a point in surviving if he came out in irreparable shambles? When his every move would be infested by the guilt of knowing she could’ve made it out if it wasn’t for him? 

Some would call it love. Intoxicating, destructive, and unstoppable. Exhilarating, invigorating, electrifying . Terrifyingly strong, yet so pleasant and calming. Comforting.  Perhaps, by the definition of the word, he would call it love too. But he didn’t attach labels. A single word would never quite capture how he experienced the world. So many kinds of love, so many ways to live it, and far too little time to worry about what to call it. 

Snuggling further into his friend’s embrace, he chattered with her about meaningless little things. No talk of the games, no survival-focused worrying, just two kids having a conversation like it was any other day. Like it wasn’t their last day in relative safety. It was nice. It felt like home. He clung to it like a lifeline. 

Yes, he loved Lamina. Always had in one way or another, from the day he’d met her till now he’d loved her. From admiration to friendship, and from friendship to an unspoken wish for something more. Something he’d never get, for here they were at the end of their journey as he got ready to die for her. Like the love interest in a tragedy. 

Those curtains would close on her tears, not his. A ballad of grief would play for her, whereas his instrumental score merely underlined another’s perception of his fate. The music was never for him. It was he who was destined to die for his love, not the other way around. After all, this was a sad love story. 

It was never the main character who died. 

Chapter Text

It was nearly as hot as reaping day had been, but Lamina could only feel the cold of winter. 

The taste of chocolate had long since faded from her mouth. She couldn’t help but yearn for it, even if it was a gift from the blond girl. It was something Treech had offered her. Without the slight;y rough feel of his vest’s fabric on her skin, Lamina wished she at least had the fruity taste of the treats to have him close to her in some way. 

But no. Nothing of him was here with her. He was being pulled to the other side of the large open space of their tomb. Dragged may be a more appropriate descriptor though. Gloved hands pushed her away from her friend, towards one of the red spots on the floor. It made her want to scream . With every step that stretched the distance between her, the ache in her knuckles increased, begging her to punch the peacekeepers so hard those stupid helmets were knocked off their ugly heads. 

If it weren’t for the guns, she’d have done so already. Would’ve sprinted at the ones forcing Treech into his spot and tackled them to the floor. All she could do was fantasize about giving them a taste of their own medicine and escaping this place with him. Maybe they’d even be able to fake being Capitol citizens and live in luxury until they were deemed a lost cause and were free to find their way back home. 

Treech could do it. He was more than skilled enough to hide right under their noses. If he wanted to, he could laugh right in someone’s face and still convince them he was on their side. Mock them and make them believe it was a compliment. Certainly, he could scramble together the funds for them both to survive and escape. No problem. He was better than anyone she’d ever seen. A phenomenal actor. Her phenomenal actor. 

If only he could’ve been hers forever. 

But no. She’d been stupid. A stupid coward who only realized her feelings when it was too late. And now she had to restrain herself from attacking the peacekeepers, for that would mean she’d be unable to protect him. If she couldn’t get them both out, she had to make sure he got out at least. How was she supposed to do that if she got herself shot? No, for now she’d settle for letting out her frustration at the world through the tears streaming down her face as  she was given one last shove. 

A voice rang out above them, like it had during the arena tour. Enjoy the show , it had said. She’d been disgusted back then, but now she just felt sick to her stomach. Back then, they’d only been given a taste of what was about to transpire. Now the real thing was starting. Time was up, no more strategizing or waiting. They were long past that point now. There was no more making the most of what they had left either. There was nothing left. Just the knowledge of their impending doom and a fear of the horrors yet to come. 

It scared her less than she thought it would. All the worries about how she’d die or when were gone. The only thing she feared was that she’d go too soon to get Treech home. Even then, it only served to invigorate her. She would not, could not, allow herself to fail him like that. When he gave so freely despite not having anything himself. Someone who shone as bright as he did deserved more than that. More than a horrid mentor who only cared when it suited her, more than a damn zoo enclosure to sleep in, more than all of this. More than her. 

But he wouldn’t get it while he was in here. So Lamina was going to get him out, no matter what she’d have to sacrifice to make it happen. After all the joy he’d brought her, all the comfort and relaxation and pure happiness he so effortlessly spread with his mere presence alone, it was the least she could do. Especially since he apparently thought he wasn’t the most important person in her life. Either she hadn’t been clear enough or he was too oblivious to notice. Well, she’d correct that while she could. No need for chocolates to convince him she cared, she had her actions to speak for her. Unlike a certain someone. 

Briefly, she allowed herself to feel bad about what she was going to do. As instructions to not move until the buzzer rang through the air, she gave herself a precious few seconds to worry about her family. Unlike her friends, they would not get anyone back. Her friends would have Treech, her family would have a bloodied body to bury. And Pliny… Pup… He’d have the weight of her death on his shoulders for the rest of his life. 

The person he was supposed to keep alive would be dead by the end of the week because he couldn’t bring himself to question the system that benefited him in time. In a way, it was darkly ironic. A system made to cater to him would cause him lifelong suffering instead. It wouldn’t have if he’d kept his distance, but Lamina could see the change in his behavior throughout her time in the Capitol. From anger at the ‘injustice’ of being ‘stuck’ with a ‘weak’ tribute like her to genuine care for her wellbeing. 

Too bad it wouldn’t change anything though. No matter what he said about needing to live for everyone who loved her or her being ‘more needed’ back home, she wouldn’t change her mind about this. What did he even know about home? She wasn’t the one with two jobs and a side-gig. And even if she had been, why did that mean she had any more right to go home than any of the other kids here? All of them had friends and family, they had lives to return to! Nothing made her more worthy of life than anyone else. 

Not that she blamed Pup. It wasn’t his fault he was raised to think that way, but that didn’t mean she had to like it. Perhaps the one regret she’d die with is not getting him to care enough to see how wrong all of this was. Her one hope was that he’d at least grow to understand one day. That, when a new rebellion inevitably came, he’d be alive to aid it in her memory. Maybe then the small flicker of resentment towards him would disappear. 

Because as much as she hated Treech’s mentor for what she’d done, she couldn’t deny Pup had started out similarly. Not as bad, but dismissive and callous nonetheless. Even when he changed, he didn’t care enough to speak up. None of the mentors had. They’d been too busy with trying to earn the prize to save the lives of innocent kids. And now it was too late for anyone to even try . Because they were 14 children mere hours away from the grave. 

Ten empty spots on the floor. Lamina could only barely make out Treech, with his father’s hat and his hand-me-down vest from his brother. She really should’ve tackled those peacekeepers before. This may very well be the last glimpse she’d ever have of him while he was still breathing and she couldn’t even talk to him via facial expressions. All she’d have was the ghost of his warmth when they’d held each other during the ride to the arena. 

No. Stop. Not happening. She was going to live to protect him and he was too smart to die so soon. Treech was the sneak, the runner, the thief. All he had to do was sprint towards one of the holes in the wall and then he’d be safe. If there’s one thing he’d be able to do no problem it was hiding from other tributes. Soon enough they’d be together in a safe place where she could hold him. Keeping him safe in her arms was all she wanted to do. 

Speaking of, the rubble in the middle didn’t seem particularly safe. Nor was it easily defendable. The only advantage they had was that they’d be a little less unstable if they were to run over it. Still a massive risk though, so that couldn’t be what their mentors had been talking about. Her breath hitched as she tried to contain her sobs. This was really happening. Things were about to get so much worse than they’d already been. 

Finally, the last of the peacekeepers retreated out of the arena. All the way to the gate, which would close to lock them in until only one remained. She was never going to see it open again. This was it. The start of her end. Her last few hours on this earth. It would all be over so soon. Would she ever see Treech again? Or was she leaving him for good? Would even death be too cruel to let her be with him? 

So what if her feelings weren’t returned? She didn’t care. Hadn’t cared before her epiphany last night and hadn’t cared after. As long as Treech was there, she’d take even his hatred. Not that he had it in him to hate anyone, but the sentiment still stood. If it was in his arms, she could deal with dying young. She’d sell her soul to whoever she had to if it kept her dear friend alive for even one more minute. 

Treech would never love her the way she loved him. How could he? Someone so sweet deserved the whole world, and she was just… her . But that was okay, because she could live with that. She could die with it too. Whether he returned her feelings or not was irrelevant. It didn’t change the fact that she loved him, and she’d do whatever it took to make sure he would be okay. 

All she’d ever wanted was to be strong enough to protect those closest to her. This… This was just an extension of that. With greater stakes and irreversible consequences, but with the same core nonetheless. At the end of the day, Lamina was giving her all to save a loved one. It was just that this time, she would lose everything in the process. Perhaps even the affection of the person she put it all on the line for. 

If Treech hated her after this, she’d understand. Regardless of how it happened, she was going to leave him alone in this decrepit amphitheater. Then he’d be left with nothing but a million metaphors for how she’d made him feel and a play that described their situation. And he wouldn’t even know whether she’d be able to hear him as he poured out his grief and pain onto the pages with his beautiful handwriting and flowery words that captured emotions so impossibly beautifully.

60.

One more minute. Everyone was in place and their final countdown had started. Her eyes shifted back to the rubble. No ax to be seen so far. Hopefully there were two, because they’d have to settle for other weapons otherwise which was really not ideal. Treech was a little more experienced at wielding axes but the day he actually learned to fight was not one she could ever see happening no matter what happened. His stomach was too weak for it. 

55. 54.

Maybe they could climb up into the stands? But that wasn’t safe either, because those were accessible through the tunnels if she remembered correctly. It would be harder to sneak up on them, but Coral’s alliance could surround them. Tributes could throw weapons at them and have a good chance at hitting them without either of them noticing. Narrowing her eyes, Lamina’s eyes slid over the arena again. Then she turned around.

48. 47.

Her breathing hitched. Then stopped. Ceiling beams had crashed down and formed a structure to the side of the pile in the middle of the arena. Two vertical, one horizontal. Must be the one Pup had been talking about earlier. Ropes hung from the top beam, and Lamina felt her breakfast crawl its way back up her throat. She forced herself to swallow it down. Throwing up wasn’t a luxury she could afford, no matter how much she wanted to. 

Splotches of purple were so abundant it looked like the rare patches of dark brown skin were the bruises. Even from this distance, she could make out the red dripping from a clearly broken nose and dribbling past slightly parted lips. Limbs stuck outward at unnatural angles. The irregular rise and fall of the chest made her shudder to think about what the torn shirt was covering up. Curls and dark brown eyes that were closed. For a moment, she saw the tatters of a gray vest and a hat slowly sliding off of soft brown hair. 

Lamina forced herself to breathe. Air scratched at flesh all the way down her throat into her lungs. The unbearable burn in her chest lessened a little, though the one in her heart only worsened the longer she looked at what was right in front of her. It begged her to go out and make whoever did this pay . Only the breathing exercises she helped Treech through when he needed to calm down kept it in check. They gave her the clarity to remember she wasn’t able to move off of the red circle without dying immediately. 

Guess they found Marcus after all. 

He was as good as dead. Even if he, by some miracle, became the victor, he was dead. They would let him die slowly. Right there, strung up like a puppet and unable to do anything but hang there and wait for the inevitable. Lamina couldn’t help but think it was a worse fate than being killed in the arena. If they’d been closer to the exit, that would’ve been Treech. 

19. 18.

Gritting her teeth, Lamina could only hope that none of the others lost sight of who the real enemy was. They had to remember who had pushed the sinking boat they were all stuck in towards the ocean. She glanced back at Marcus. The poor boy had been suffering for who knows how long, and since she had to get onto the beams anyway… Perhaps she could help at least one other tribute in this arena. Give him as peaceful of a last few moments as possible like she and Treech had done for Sheaf and Panlo back in the zoo. Like they’d been unable to do for Hy. 

14. 13.

She altered her stance to be ready to run, she spared one more glance over at Treech. He was still okay. As long as he was there with her, things would be okay. She was fighting for them both, just like always. She could think of no better way to go than doing what she’d always done. Protecting those she loved. No purer version of who she was existed. And in that, the Capitol’s attempts to take all they were from them had failed. 

10

Reaper had promised to avenge them. He stood a few spots away, tense and ready, waiting for the buzzer to sound. Well, he needn’t worry. Lamina was getting her own revenge. If she was going to die, she sure as heck wasn’t going to give those Capitol scumbags what they wanted. There would be no bloodthirst from her. No animalistic behavior or monstrous actions. No bloodbaths, just a necessary evil. Who knows? Maybe it would force Pup to see who the vile beasts were here. 

Breathing slowly, Lamina looked up at the camera. Everyone in that city was convinced she’d lose herself in this fight to the death, yet here she was. Focused on nothing but how to get her dear friend to the end of the line. Ready to be the runner up, prepared to accept last place if it meant he came in first. Pup would be so mad if he could hear her train of thoughts, but Pup didn’t understand their situation. 

9

None of the mentors understood their situation, except maybe Sejanus. They were watching right now, all cheering for their own tributes to win. None of the few that had started to care for their tributes understood that their fellow mentors felt the same. If they ever had the realization, it would be too little too late. A vengeful part of her relished in the fact that they’d have to live with that guilt. It caused a vicious glee like nothing she’d ever felt before. 

Let them regret it. Let them learn a lesson through a pain they could never escape from. She hoped they’d see how monstrous they’d been for never speaking up, if only so they’d be stuck regretting the wrongs they would never be able to truly make right. Because nothing they did from this point on would bring back the dead. That bitter, mean part of her hoped that their deaths would at least cause some suffering to the people who’d let it happen. 

8

But she’d never know if it had, would she? Not unless the hereafter allowed her to see what happened in the world of the living. And that was something she’d only know once the grim reaper had taken her soul. When there was nowhere left to run and nobody else to fight, she too would be laid down to rest. But not before she’d ensured Treech wouldn’t find out for another few decades, at least. 

Slowing down her breathing, she did her best to fight against her steadily increasing heartbeat. She’d need adrenaline, not panic. Time for a cool head. She was done crying, done worrying, and done wishing someone would care enough to save them. No one would. It was up to her to save her friend. Fate had condemned him, his mentor had neglected him, and Lamina would help him persevere. She just had to keep that in mind. 

It would hurt him. Knowing him, he’d bend under the weight of her death. But he wouldn’t break. She knew he wouldn’t. Treech was too strong for that. He’d make it through the horrors they were about to face and he’d be able to handle it. It sucked that he’d have to handle it at all though. He didn’t deserve this. That someone like him had to go through this wasn’t fair , but then… When had life ever been fair to them? 

7

Life was cruel. It was hard and mean and it wasn’t fuckin fair . There was nothing they could do to change it. All they could do was struggle against the tides of time to try and get the best possible outcome. Even if Treech would disagree with her interpretation of what that outcome was. Maybe he’d hate her for doing this to him, or maybe he’d move on without a second thought. It didn’t matter to her. 

What mattered was that he’d be alive to do those things. As long as he had the time to grieve her, to hate her, to remember or to forget her, she’d be content. Was it selfish to push that onto him? Probably, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. He’d get over it. He’d get over her . It hurt to think about, but it was true. One day, whether it be sooner or later, Treech would get over her and move on. That was something Lamina would never be able to do. 

6

The only thing that could make her strong enough to keep going without him was betrayal. If he broke her heart so irreparably that not even the games could shatter it further. Then she’d have fought for herself so she could return to her family. But he hadn’t. Treech had put everything on the line just to stay with her, and she was hell-bent on repaying that kindness. It would cost her her life, and Lamina found that she couldn’t care less. She felt removed from it. Such a faraway thing couldn’t scare her. 

When the time came, she’d fear death. She’d be scared of the hereafter when it stared her in the face. But that wasn’t right now. Right now, she had a plan to follow and a goal to achieve. Worries about the future could wait until that future arrived, and until then she’d focus on what was right in front of her. A pile of rubble, weapons, and 14 children waiting for their final bell to ring. 

5

She turned back to the pile of rubble and took in the other tributes. All of them seemed to have made up their minds. Just like her, they were working through their last worries as they psyched themselves for what was about to happen. In these last seconds of peace, this calm before what could very well be their last storm, they made their choices. Fight or flight. Given her skills, the former was likely the better choice. She was the fighter, but…

She didn’t want to. Lamina didn’t want to fight anyone. What she wanted was to have Treech in her arms, backstage in the theater back home while he shook off his last nerves before going on stage. The only place she wanted to be was by his side for as long as he’d have her. She could think of no better prayer than one that would let him be hers. Glancing at his figure in the distance, she blinked away the tears. 

4

When the realization had come, it had hit like a storm. A whirlwind of emotions she could only channel into protecting him because there was nowhere else to send it. When her only other option was burdening Treech with knowing she’d died for unrequited love, she’d rather have her feelings die with her. Up on the beams. Right there, where she would spend her last days protecting the boy who had her heart. 

For that to happen, she had to get to the beams. No risk taking, no unnecessary deaths. None of them wanted to be here, and Lamina would not lose herself to the Capitol’s cruel games. Her fight was for love, not hate. Why would she hunt when her goal was to protect? If she was forced to kill, it would be with compassion. She would do what had to be done with the knowledge that all of them had the same goal at the end of the day. To go home or to get another home. None of them wanted to die. 

3

Neither did she. Lamina didn’t want to die. But she was ready to meet her end if it meant Treech was safe and sound. She breathed out one last time. Then she turned away from the center, towards the hole in the wall she planned to go into. Ready to sprint and find a hiding spot before anyone with a weapon had a chance to spot her. Just like she and Treech had discussed days before. When they’d still been as safe as they could be.

2

That was in the past now. Her worst nightmare had only just begun. No use in looking back, she had to focus on the future. Wiping her face dry, Lamina let her emotions fade into the background. They would only get in her way. Every muscle in her body was tense, ready for her body to move as she waited for the starting sign. Run. Hide. Get to the beams. Simple. Nothing would stand in her way.

1

Not even her own life. 

Chapter Text

If someone were to ask him to describe the moments between being shoved into his spot and running once the buzzer went off, Treech would have no idea what to say.

Not yet, anyway. Maybe in a few days, if he managed to stay alive that long. Once he was far enough removed from it to attach pretty words and give it a nice ring. When the adrenaline wore off, he’d be able to think back on everything clearly. He’d laugh at the irony of ‘vile beasts’ such as them all choosing to run away, rather than fight as they were expected to do. As soon as they were given the chance, they proved the Capitol wrong. 

For now, he’d try to contain the shaking in his hands as he shoved himself further into his little nook. A small hollow in the wall, hidden by its own debris. Too small for most people to notice. He himself had almost missed it, and he’d deliberately been looking for hiding spots such as this. It was perfect. All Treech could hope was that it would stay that way. Given his streak of luck these past few days… Yeah not likely. 

It’s okay though. He just had to hold out for a few hours and then he’d be fine. Once it cooled down, he’d get to the beams and reunite with Lamina. Simple. Easy. Hide, sneak, sprint, climb. Just like back home. With a different end goal, but still. It’s the principle that mattered, not the semantics. Especially because those semantics were just popping up in his head thanks to the unnerving quiet all around him. Only the occasional surprised yell and faroff footsteps echoed through the tunnel. 

Some tributes must’ve ran into one another already, but he’d heard no shouts of pain or fighting. Which made sense. No one had any weapons, so even tributes that weren’t allies were likely avoiding scuffles until they could kill quickly. It was the closest thing to mercy anyone could grant inside the arena. A quick death or no death at all. It wasn’t much, but to those who had nothing, ‘not much’ meant more than the whole world. 

Maybe it was a way to alleviate the guilt too. If only slightly. Sure, they were forced to be killers, but they’d done what they could to make it as painless as possible for their victims. At least they’d tried to be as good as a person could be in the games. Treech doubted it would help any of them cope if they made it out. Those deaths would still haunt the survivor. Blood would still stain their hands, no matter how many times they scrubbed the skin off in their frenzied attempts to clean them. 

At least he wouldn’t have to deal with that. He wasn’t even sure why death scared him so much, given that he’d made his choice back during the arena tour. Given that he’d had plenty of time to come to terms with him, one would think he’d have moved past this by now. He’d already accepted it, after all. But actually coming to terms with the fact that the end was near for him was a different thing entirely. It was a step further, and his legs refused to move. 

While he wanted to just shove it aside and deal with it later, he knew there wouldn’t be much later for him. Maybe a day at most. It was honestly hard to imagine anything beyond the dark hole he’d squeezed himself into. The arena’s walls were thicker than he’d expect from an amphitheater, but then again it had been used for sports and it was Capitol so he supposed it just wasn’t the kind of theater he was used to. Part of the inside of the wall had hollowed out somehow, and Treech had almost missed the gap at the bottom he’d ended up worming himself through. It ended up being a surprisingly spacious hidey-hole. 

When he made his way to the beams, he’d make sure to mentally map out where he was. If it weren’t for the fact that they’d be sitting ducks once the stone covering the entrance was removed, he’d have considered convincing Lamina to stay in here instead. Also, Pup wouldn’t be able to send her sponsor gifts given that it would immediately rat out her location. If there were even any cameras to let the guy know where she was. 

Still, it could be useful in the future. Maybe if he went out to scour for food, he’d need the hiding spot. Or if something happened and he and Lamina needed to go off the radar for a bit. Better be overprepared than underprepared. And it’s not like he could expect Pup to provide for both Lamina and him with her donations. She’d need those once Treech finally kicked the bucket anyway. Though, hopefully, Vipsania would send his funds to Lamina’s for him. It was a long shot, but after everything… He hoped she’d at least find it in her heart to help his dear friend make it home after he spoiled her chances at victory. 

Unlike the parts of the structure that had been in direct sunlight, the stone inside his mock-cave was cold. Its chill dug into his flesh where the ragged edges touched his skin. It would be hard to find out when it was time to go out, but he’d manage. Hopefully Lamina wouldn’t worry too much. Leaning against the side of his hideout, he tried to curl up away from the entrance. Small rays of light tore through enough of the darkness to just barely illuminate his surroundings. 

It was eerie. The cold, the dark, and the general tension of being in a death game all worked together to fray every last nerve in his body. Was this how he was going to feel during his last days? Wow . Now that was a terrifying thought to have. Hopefully whoever sent him to the grave would be quick about it so he wouldn’t have time to think about any of it. Lights out and curtains down, show’s over. 

“Treech!” 

Gasping, his entire body tensed in his hideout as adrenaline flooded through him once again. A tidal wave swallowing all of his senses. With all that echo throughout the tunnels, it was impossible to tell from how far away the voice came, but it was too close no matter what. No amount of distance was safe. Not from the danger lurking beneath that tone. A threat and a promise at the same time. Tanner

Which meant Coral. Coral was looking for him. Why was she going after him? Shouldn’t she be focusing her energy on actual dangers to her and Mizzen’s survival? Like, say, Tanner , who was a far bigger problem for those two’s continued existence than Treech could ever hope to be. Or Reaper, or Jessup, or literally anybody else . Except Lamina. Coral could keep her hands off of his friend or face the bloody, brutal consequences. 

“Where are you?” Mizzen sing-songed. 

Despite the tone, he could hear an undercurrent of nervousness in the young boy’s voice. Of course there was. He was only 13 and Treech was pretty sure the kid had enjoyed his performances in the zoo. Taking comfort in someone only to hunt them down and kill them later? Probably not good for a person’s mental state. Which was all the more reason to not let himself be found. Ranked right below not being able to help Lamina win. 

Their voices became louder. Too close. Far too close for comfort. He should’ve grabbed an ax from the pile of weapons before he went into the tunnels. If only he’d known all the others would flee too. Too late now, he supposed. And now he was defenceless, curled into a little nook and praying to any deity he could think of to help keep him hidden. He should’ve stayed with Lamina, what the hell was he supposed to do?!

“We know you’re in here, you cowardly little Lumberjack!” 

Calm, he needed to be calm. They only knew he was in the tunnels because no duh , literally everyone was in the tunnels. Where else would he be? On a cloud? Wait, Coral and Mizzen were fishermen… Where else would he be? Splashing around in the ocean? Yeah, in his dreams maybe. If these were his dreams, those footsteps wouldn’t be getting louder though, so clearly not. As for the cowardly accusations… Well, he was hiding in a ditch, so…

It was a strategic move though! And also Treech was smart enough to know what battles to pick. Usually. Three against one with no way to defend himself aside from chucking rocks at people didn’t sound like a pleasant experience. So avoid it he would. See Murai, he had good ideas sometimes! Fuck, he missed his older brother. Rai was the man with the plan, and clearly far more intelligent than Treech would ever be. He wouldn’t have been stupid enough to fall in love with a girl he was about to enter a death match with. 

“Should’ve joined us when you had the chance!” Coral goaded. “Now you’re all alone.” 

Through the cracks in the wall he hid behind (inside?), he caught a glimpse of movement. Oh no. Oh no oh fuck they were right outside ! Clasping a hand over his mouth, he stared at the small rays cutting through the darkness of his surroundings. If they were there looking for him, they must’ve already gotten their hands on some weapons. Which was not good. Not good at all. Especially if Coral had the trident. 

Okay Treech , he thought, be rational . As if that was as easy as carving the millionth fox figurine to give out to the younger kids in the Fringe. However, he really shouldn’t be this panicked. He’d spent his entire life in this exact situation but worse , so panicking now would be a stupid way to die. At least he’d die by the hand of someone who had no other choice. Dying so another innocent child could live was preferable to senseless cruelty. A cynical part of him wanted to laugh derisively. What a useless sentiment that would be to his corpse. 

His racing heartbeat calmed down a little though, so the cynical part of him could shut the fuck up. Sweat clammed up his hands, but he didn’t move to wipe them away. Never move unless necessary. One wrong move and they’ll know where you are. Coral’s pack may kill him mercifully slowly, but being at anyone’s mercy was something he’d rather avoid in general. Death couldn’t claim him now , not when he still had to meet up with Lamina. Once they were together, he’d accept his fate. But not yet. Not when she was still waiting for him. 

Outside, Coral growled in anger. Or maybe other emotions were manifesting as anger because any other emotions might hinder her quest for survival. Treech could just as easily be reading way too much into things, but since he probably wouldn’t live long enough to figure out which one it was he got to pick what to believe. And since he was going to die anyways, he’d stick it to the Capitol by choosing the more human option. 

“Where is he?!” 

“Are you sure he’s in this tunnel?” 

“I know he ran into this one, Tanner, I saw him!” Coral hissed. 

Well that was just a terrible assessment. This tunnel system was big , going around the entire amphitheater with several floors of the building. From the ground floor all the way up into the stands! And they were interconnected, so realistically he could be anywhere . While he had no idea how long he’d been in there, it was long enough to sprint around the entire stadium. He could be in a booth somewhere or the boxes for more wealthy spectators, and how would they even know? It’s not like it was impossible to avoid other tributes. Especially ones as loud and conspicuous as the pack. 

For all they knew, he could be in the main part of the arena or hiding in the stands or something. The stands were pretty accessible, and since he was from District 7 most of the other tributes probably assumed that he was at least a decent climber. And they would be correct, Treech was an excellent climber. Why would entering the tunnels at one point mean he was automatically still there? Though, to be fair, he was only a couple of feet away from them, so… Guess she wasn’t entirely wrong here. 

“Well, clearly he isn’t here anymore .”

“Don’t talk back to me!” 

“I’m not, I’m stating the obvious. Do you see him anywhere?” 

Loud rustling. Tanner must be gesturing around now. For a few seconds, it was silent. Then, Coral let out a frustrated yell and slammed her trident against the wall. Right above his alcove. Eyes widening, Treech only barely managed to muffle his fearful yelp. Fuck, too loud. Way too loud! He curled up further, pressing his hand against his mouth tighter. Just like back home. Just like when he broke into the peacekeeper warehouse and nearly got caught stealing food. They didn’t catch him then, they wouldn’t catch him now. 

This was his turf. Running away and avoiding detection was his playing field. Why, why, why did it have to fail him now of all times?! When he needed it the most, when he had to get back to Lamina and have her back like she’d had his for years ! Why couldn’t he repay her in even the smallest of ways? If there’s anything Coral was right about, it’s that he was a coward. A useless coward who was only good at being pathetic . 

“What was that?” Mizzen asked.

“What was what?” 

“I swear I heard something, Coral.” 

Fuck. Too loud. He’d been too loud and now he was going to die and Lamina would be all alone and knowing her she’d go looking for him and abandon the strategy and then she’d probably have to fight too and- Okay. Enough of that. They hadn’t found him yet. He wasn’t dead yet. Besides, they weren’t even sure anyone was here, let alone that it was him specifically. It would be fine. He just had to keep it cool and think . 

Best case scenario was a distraction, but he couldn’t create any without revealing his location so that was out. Fighting was an absolute no go, he’d die within seconds. But these tunnels echoed like mad and the chances of anyone noticing the slightly off positioning of the stones with which he’d covered up the entrance were minimal, so the pack would likely write it off as nothing so long as he stayed utterly silent. He could do that. 

In the tense silence, Treech forced every muscle in his body to relax. Just like the warehouse. Just like home. He evened out his breathing, fixing his eyes on one specific stone in the wall in front of him and allowing himself to drift. Around him, the cold stone faded away to be replaced by wooden boxes. Stacked up around him to conceal the small gap he’d wedged himself into. Raised voices swirled around him, not a single word getting through the fog in his head. 

“We’re wasting time!” 

“Hunting that brainless airhead down isn’t a ‘waste of time’, Tanner!” 

“Well we’re not doing a lot of hunting , are we?!” 

A scream tore through the air. Distant. Repeated like a chant until it faded to nothing.  ( Banging all around him. Lights flashing on so brightly it burned into his eyes. ) Hurried footsteps drowned out by the sound of the pack’s tensing up. ( Boxes were shoved around as they searched for him in all the places he wasn’t stupid enough to use as a hiding spot. ) Not a single thing indicated he’d ever been there. ( He’d never even left a trace to begin with. ) 

“I’m tired, can we take a break?” 

“Of course Miz.” 

“What?! We can’t just-”

They could search all they wanted, because he had a knack for finding places no one even knew existed ( and if they didn’t know it existed, why would they care to check? ). It didn’t matter that they were resting mere feet away from him, because they didn’t know about the hole in the wall he’d made his residence. ( People were far less likely to find what they didn’t know they were looking for .) It’s okay, he’d hold out for a few hours at least ( and he’d been hidden between those boxes for nearly half a day already ) so he just had to wait for them to leave and then he could search for Lamina. 

Given Coral’s drive to end the games quicker, they likely wouldn’t stay long anyway. See, nothing to worry about. Treech was getting worked up over nothing, and if anything would end up getting him killed it was that ( because even the worst peacekeepers could pick up on loud bonking noises ). But it’s okay. He was calm now. All he had to do was stay calm, letting the voices wash over him while he faded into obscurity. As always. ( It had kept him safe so many times it had long since become his friend.) 

“Why are you so obsessed with finding him anyway?” 

“Do you ever shut up?!”

“Jeez, I’m just trying to pass the time.”

“You’re getting on my nerves!” 

Only on the stage did he ever stand in the spotlight. Everywhere else, Lamina was the beacon leading everyone towards them. And he was fine with that. Treech didn’t mind being in her shadow, nor did he begrudge her for casting it. Not when socializing seemed to be second nature to her. All she had to do to make people like her was be herself, truly and unapologetically, whereas people only liked him for a lie. 

Not that he minded, per se. He lived and breathed performance, never feeling more alive then when he was on stage. Captivating everyone watching with an ease he didn’t remember achieving, that’s what he loved doing above all else. However, it was hard to draw the line sometimes. Where did the act end and where did he begin? What was real, and what was a remnant of a character he’d spent so much time perfecting for a play? 

“It’s just-” Coral groaned. “I can’t believe that jellyfish picked the crybaby over us! And then he dared to compare Miz to that weakling!” 

“Jellyfish?”

“Spineless, that’s what he is! A spineless coward who couldn’t even stand up against his useless district partner!” 

Was a trait really his, or did he trick himself into believing it was while preparing to portray a fictional character? Was he really himself? Was he even his own person? Or was he just an imposter? A fraud impersonating another’s creations. A lie . How would he even know? It wasn’t something he liked to dwell on, but sometimes… Sometimes, he couldn’t help but ponder. And, in the depths of his mind, he wondered if it would make him a bad person. 

He’d never get his answer now. He’d die with a million questions on his mind and endless regrets in his heart. Maybe that’s what scared him so much about death. Losing the chance to face endless slumber peacefully. Instead, his death would be brutal. What he lived for, he would die doing. Performance would forever be stained with his blood, drenching into the scripts and painting the stage red. The theater crew was his second family, and while he knew nobody needed him… They were great people. Caring, compassionate, kind people. 

“Has it ever occurred to you that maybe he just didn’t want to?” Tanner asked lightly. “Since refusing your offer would probably take more spine than taking it? It’s not like she would be able to stop him or anything.” 

“Does it matter?! That bastard should’ve thought twice before crossing me, and now he has to pay !”

What if they took his loss too hard? What if his favorite chair would be a permanently empty spot in their backstage lounge? Maybe it was a dark sort of wishful thinking, but the idea that his death would somehow cause the troupe to stop performing even temporarily, depriving the district of that much needed joy… It would’ve made him choke up if he was still inside his body. But he wasn’t. He was floating, adrift with no destination. The world kept turning around him while he just… was . 

“Guess not… He has to die either way.”

Sometimes, it was nice to drift. To not have to worry about reality. Let time fly by. It’s not like it made him feel bad or anything. He didn’t feel anything at all. There was nothing. He saw, but he didn’t recognize. He heard, but he didn’t register. He felt, but he didn’t process. Clocks kept ticking, flowers grew and wilted, and he remained right where he was. Existing without feeling real . 

Nothing felt real sometimes. Not often, but… Sometimes. When things were bad and he couldn’t quite pinpoint why. They just were. Life was as tough as always, but it was different. Somehow. Harder for reasons he didn’t understand. When he was empty in a way nothing could fill. So utterly broken there was nothing that could possibly put him back together, let alone even begin trying to fix him. All he had were his thoughts, and they were just a little more aware of all the ways in which he wasn’t enough that usual. 

“You don’t seem too happy about that.” Mizzen said.

Sometimes he didn’t think at all. Then, he was truly afloat. In those moments, it could barely even be considered existing. It was impossible to say that he was at all. Then, there was truly nothing. He didn’t even remember what those moments felt like, because there was nothing there. It was impossible to describe, because there was nothing to describe. He’d blinked, and suddenly hours had passed. One second it was morning, the next his mom was calling him down for dinner. 

“It’s just-” Tanner sighed. “He seems nice.”

“And? All of us can be nice .” 

“I know that Coral, I’m not saying that! I-”

Those times barely ever happened, thankfully. Treech didn’t like them. Those days where he didn’t feel or remember anything were some of the worst. And perhaps part of what made them so horrible was that he didn’t even mind them while they were happening. Whether he moved around without remembering a single second of it or he couldn’t even find the energy to move, he never hated them in the moment. It was only when he woke up again and knew what it was like to feel again that the loathing set in. 

None of these experiences were a regular occurance, or even uncommon, but they left enough of an impact to feel like it. And they came out of nowhere. No cause, no trigger, nothing. They just appeared out of nowhere for a week and then he’d be fine again. It scared him, sometimes. When he contemplated it for too long. But he managed, so it was fine. And even if it wasn’t, district people didn’t get medical care. Only in rare instances did they get any sort of help, so it’s not like it would matter either way. 

“I would’ve liked to get to know him.” 

Being around his loved ones helped, on the bad days. They pulled him out of his head a little. Usually. It wasn’t infallible, but it was something. If it wasn’t for the fact that he was burdening them with his stupid ‘problems’, he’d ask for their help when it got bad. But they had bigger, more important things to worry about. He couldn’t add to that. Life was already so unfair, and he wanted to make it just a little bit less so. To do that…

To do that, he had to swallow his own issues and help others solve their own first. He could wait. For as long as he could remember, Treech had been adapting to his situation in order to deal with it. If it would help his friends be happier, he’d gladly continue doing so for a little longer. It’s not like he was crumbling or anything. No, he knew he’d be fine. He’d pull through at the end of the day, because dying would just burden everyone further. That’s the last thing he’d ever do willingly. 

“All he’d ever talk about is the crybaby.” 

“I know.” Tanner said bitterly. 

Especially to Lamina, who was already such an angel to him for reasons that continued to elude him. She was wonderful. So far beyond anything he could ever be. That gorgeous, kind, beautiful soul deserved the world, and he’d do anything to give it to her. He’d suffer through thousands of empty days, hollow and cold and unable to move, if that’s what it took to make her smile. He’d throw everything he’d ever been and lose the last vestiges of himself if it kept the light in her eyes alive for a single second longer. 

He’d gladly give up his life if it would allow her to go home. Now, he willingly drifted into the daze just to reunite with her. Letting the mist settle over his mind, ignoring the tingle as his limbs fell asleep, he pictured her gorgeous face. Every perfect little detail, from the shade of her hair to the depths of her eyes. His beautiful Lamina. There was nothing in this world he wouldn’t do for her. 

If she asked him to destroy every page he’d ever written, he’d take the words he’d poured his soul into and do it without hesitation. She could take his soul with it if she wanted, he didn’t care. Nothing could make him care as long as she was happy. Treech would burn down the peacekeeper’s barracks and smile as he was whipped until he died, so long as she was the one who’d told him to do so. If brightening her day just a little bit required breaking himself into a million shards too sharp to ever put back together, he wouldn’t even blink. 

For Lamina, he’d do everything. 

Even when he knew it wouldn’t mean anything to her.

Chapter Text

By the time it had cooled down, the sun had long since disappeared from view. 

Only fading orange tints remained. Staining everything around them in an unfairly bright color for the darkness swallowing them inside out. That made sense though, in a sick sort of way. This wasn’t for them. It was all for the Capitol, sitting behind their high quality TV’s on their fancy couches eating so much food there was enough to leave and let rot. A colorful spectacle, dressed up nicely and painted with blood. 

What a strangely poetic thought. Bitter, but flowery. Kind of. The voice that whispered it into her mind sounded suspiciously like Treech’s honeysweet voice, which made sense. It was the exact kind of thing he would say. Maybe, if he’d been with her, she would be hearing his actual voice. The melody in every word he spoke would so effortlessly steal her heart all over again with those soft tones everyone knew him for back home. Without even knowing, he would take her whole soul like he didn’t already have her. 

Except he wasn’t here. This beautiful fantasy of hers was prancing around in the gray area between speculation and logical conclusion. Maybe he wouldn’t do that in these circumstances, but it seemed so natural to him it was hard to imagine anything could curb his charm. Not even a black hole could dim his light. Perhaps the games would… hide it, but they could never curb him. 

That still wasn’t good, though. How Lamina wished he was here, just so she could make sure he was alright herself. So she wouldn’t have to keep convincing herself, because she’d have the proof to believe it. With a sigh, she carefully crept over the pile of rubble in the middle of the arena, snatching up an ax and tying it to her belt. She couldn’t see any other ones, but that was fine. Treech would figure something out. He was smart like that, always thinking on the fly. 

Later. Those thoughts were for later. Her worries over his whereabouts, whether he was waiting to meet her or already dead in the tunnels were for after. Right now, her focus was elsewhere. Lamina turned around. A figure, dark against the orange light that flooded into the room behind him. The boy with the highest odds, the nicest mentor, and the best chances. Reduced to little more than a doll, dangling uselessly in the air. Waiting for the end. 

Marcus. 

Every step she took felt heavier than the last. Each one brought her closer to the inevitable. Marcus watched her approach, too high up for her to make out any sort of expression on his face. Only one way to fix that. Climbing the vertical beam was easier than she’d thought it would be at first glance. All those natural handholds created by the explosions allowed Lamina to scale it in seconds. 

It was almost like the trees back home. Heated thanks to the sun, but similar nonetheless. Besides, the stones were already cooling down a little now that they weren’t in direct sunlight. Climbing up the trunk, balancing on the branches, looking down at the ground so far below and waiting for her Treech to appear and meet her there at midnight. Sometimes he crept over the forest floor, sometimes he jumped from tree to tree, but he always came. She always waited, and he always appeared. This would be no different. 

Well, outside of the boy she was currently making her way towards. Carefully, she crossed half of the horizontal beam, crawling over to the other tribute and crouching down over him. Slow, with controlled movements to avoid falling off. Her trembling hand brushed through his curls. Much shorter than Treech’s, yet far too similar for her tastes. If he’d been just a little less empathetic, saving his mentor and making sure Lamina herself was okay, that might’ve been him. Broken and bloodied and waiting for death to claim him. 

She could’ve been carding her fingers through his hair, pulling his head back to look into his eyes. The whisper from Marcus’ lips could have been her Treech . Would she have been able to do what she knew she had to if it was? Or would she have tried to save him, despite knowing it was impossible? It would have destroyed her either way, and for a moment she let herself wonder. Did Marcus have an entire district waiting on him like Treech did? Or just his family, like herself? Was Marcus somebody’s reason to live like her boy was hers? 

It would’ve been so much easier if her feelings were one-of-a-kind, but at the end of the day… They were all people. Everyone found their sun in another, or perhaps their moon. That she’d found hers in her precious star didn’t mean either of them deserved to live more or less. How could she so mercilessly strike down another’s whole world like that? Erase a light like it meant nothing? Marcus deserved to see his family again, just like Treech did. 

But then he looked up at her, pain in his eyes and blood dribbling down from his lips. Chest shuddering with each breath as he stared straight into her soul. Endless suffering swallowed all of the fire that had characterized Marcus in the short time she’d known him. That rebellious spirit had been killed long before she’d entered the arena. All that was left was an agonized fear of what would come. Something squeezed in her chest. There was no hope left in those dark eyes, just a desperate plea. 

"Please…" 

Slowly, Lamina reached for her belt. Please . Just one, rasped out word. A single syllable managed to startle her body into moving on its own. So broken and quiet, yet holding so much power all the same. Because it was no longer her choice. It’s not her deciding someone’s fate, as if it ever had been in the first place. All it was, was a young girl fulfilling a broken boy’s last wish. Nothing more to it. She hadn’t strung him up there, and he hadn’t pushed her into the arena. Neither of them wanted to be here, and in those circumstances…

Please

They did what they could to make things just a little more bearable. For one, it was the reassurance that this is what he wanted. For the other, it was cutting his misery short. From their respective positions in the Capitol’s games, they did what they could. Pitifully little was still something , and if that had been Treech… If his sweet tones had been reduced to that rough, pained croak… She’d want someone to give her sun one last show of mercy. If Marcus was somebody else’s light, she hoped they’d understand. 

That they’d realize what the tributes had been forced to. None of them were to blame. They were not each other’s enemies. Only one enemy existed, and it was one none of them had the power to defeat. Untouchable, unreachable, forcing them to do things they never wanted to do. Putting them through all of this just because it could . The only enemy here was the Capitol, and they were powerless to save themselves or each other. These little moments would not make it into the history books. They’d be forgotten by next month. But…

  Please…

To them, it meant the world. Days of suffering cut short. Who knows how many hours of regrets prevented. One small act of mercy that would fade with time managed to have a monumental impact on two little lives. It meant nothing, yet it meant everything . Her arm trembled as she lined up her ax with his neck. One blow. That would be enough. It had to be enough. Marcus deserved for this to be quick, especially after everything he’d gone through. 

Despite the uncontainable shaking of her arm, she raised her ax high. Hesitation froze her movements. This was it. The first life she’d ever taken. Blood was about to splatter on her hands and permanently stain her soul. Perhaps, in a way, she was letting the Capitol win by participating in these games. Then again, wasn’t letting Marcus suffer also a victory for them? Would that not prove their delusion that the districts were monsters? 

Please

No matter what the tributes did, the Capitol would twist it to suit their narrative. Lamina wasn’t doing this for them. She was doing it for her friends. She was doing this for herself and her fellow tributes. She was doing this for Treech . Her love, her life, her light, her honey. Her guiding star, bright even in the darkest days. Pulling her through anything just by being there with her. For him to survive, Marcus would’ve had to die anyway. At least now, she’d be able to bring him some peace too. Twisted though it may be, it was an act of kindness. 

Please

The blow reverberated through the air around them. Loud in the silence of the arena, thrumming through her and chilling her to the bone. No more ragged breathing. Just quiet. Peace. A sickening, oppressive sort of peace. Heavy with unspoken words and a million emotions stuck so deep inside her chest she didn’t even know what they were. Swirling around and crying for her attention, only to slip through her grasp when she tried to rid herself of their claws. 

Blood dripped to the floor so far below. Too far to be heard. Tiny red dots that were only visible due to the dusty beige of the dirty stone below. It reminded her of a play Treech’s theater group had once performed. A fight between two characters, a boy against his father’s murderer high on the cliffside. A vengeful son throwing the perpetrator into the depths below after a fatal strike. 

There was no fight here. Just two victims of the same monster trying to grant each other the smallest of mercies. A brave soul finally finding freedom and the girl who gave it to him. A protector forced to kill and the boy who begged her to do so. Lamina looked up, scanning the arena around her in search of familiar curls and a pop of gray and blue in the sea of brown. She didn’t want to see the red slowly seeping into Marcus’ shirt anymore. All she wanted was for her light to return to her. Where was he? He should have been here by now! 

Of all times, why did he have to be gone now ? When a disturbing ooze was crawling all over her skin and consuming her entire being. Treech always knew how to deal with stuff like this. The emotions behind the actions. That was his forte. Talking people through what they were feeling with his soft voice and helping them deal with it like it was his kind soul’s calling to do so. His warmth chased away everything, from chill to this creeping, dawning sensation, leaving nothing but the cottony lightness only he managed to invoke within her. 

There wasn’t a single thing in this world that brought her joy like he did. But he wasn’t here. It was just her and the remains of the boy she’d just slaughtered. No amount of reminding herself that it had been a kindness would soothe her until her Treech was back in her arms. Especially with how morbid her act of ‘doing good’ had been. The Capitol had tried to use him as an example, and she disputed all their prejudice about them in ways they’d never understand. All that was left of their horrors was the corpse hanging below her. 

Speaking of, maybe she should cut him down. Leave him to rest properly, rather than letting him remain strung up like a puppet. Like Brandy had been strung up days before. Their corpses paraded around like they were nothing, just like Velvereen, Facet, Sabyn, Otto, and Ginnee. Lamina hadn’t been able to give them any kind of open respect, but Marcus? She could give him this last thing. 

Squeezing her eyes shut for a moment, she braced herself for the sight that was about to greet her and looked down again. Blood. There was so much blood. Partially dried up but no less red. Possibly, it was even more sickening now that she couldn’t focus on his face anymore. Mangled bones were impossible to ignore now, and the more she looked the more she saw new injuries she hadn’t noticed before. 

Rather than throwing up, Lamina raised her ax and chopped off the rope holding Marcus’s left arm up. Then the right. His body tumbled down and landed with a dull thud. So far down. Too far for her to properly see him anymore. Selfishly, she was glad she didn’t have to see his injuries so vividly anymore. Though she did feel a little bad about that, because looking at him with the compassion the Capitol refused to accept they possessed was the least Marcus deserved. He probably hadn’t gotten any over the past couple of days, and he wouldn’t even get it in death. Then again, Lamina supposed she’d never know whether he’d want to be seen in such a state. Not in life, at least. 

A humming through the air made her look up, then stand up fully. A drone? It was holding… some kind of bottle. It was coming her way. Was this what Pup had meant with sponsors? Was she supposed to catch it? It was coming closer quickly. Really quickly. A little too quickly. With how low it was going… At the last second, Lamina threw herself down, narrowly avoiding getting hit in the head by the drone. The bottle was smashed into a million shards, water coating one of the vertical beams. Wow, all that money and the Capitol couldn’t even manage their own sick entertainment right. 

Would they replace it? Hopefully they’d fix this at the very least. Treech and her were going to need a lot of water with this weather, and if those bottles kept smashing… They were going to have a problem much more pressing than the other tributes reaching them. She’d have to wait and see, she supposed. Though Lamina had to wonder why they hadn’t tested these before the games. Didn’t this make them look hilariously incompetent?

Well, more incompetent than the death of 9 out of 24 tributes and those mentors already did. And now the first death of the games, as far as she knew, laid several feet below her. If there was an afterlife, she’d find out what Marcus thought about her actions soon enough. But that was for later. Now that Marcus was gone, she had the opportunity to think about her light. Or, more accurately, to worry herself sick about him. Because he was somewhere in here, all alone, in who even knew how much danger. And she was up here, safe and not doing anything to keep him safe like she’d promised herself she would. What kind of protector was she? It had been mere minutes and her little actor was already fending for himself.

Without her, without any weapons, in the middle of a death game. Somewhere in this massive amphitheater. This was his turf, and somehow he’d managed to find himself at a massive disadvantage. One Lamina was supposed to make up for, and was she doing that? No . Of course not. Because of all the things she could fail at in life, this had to be one of them. When would it ever be something she didn’t mind failing? Well, to be fair… Lamina wouldn’t mind failing at keeping herself alive in this situation, so… Soon, probably. 

Still, though, it wouldn’t matter if Treech was dead. If he was gone, what was the point of dying? What was the point in living? What was the point in anything if he was gone? Pup had told her to start moving on sooner rather than later, because she’d have to let Treech go soon. Well what did he know? How dare a Capitol brat with daddy’s plastic tell her to let go of the most important person in her life?! 

How dare Pliny condescend to her like that, talking about the other tributes like they were less than her in some way? Like they didn’t deserve to live just as much as she did! Like Treech was somehow the incompetent one between them and she was the person District 7 needed to have back, when it was literally the exact opposite. As proven by this situation right here. Pliny- Harrington didn’t get to even speak to her about any of this until he brutally cut down one of his friends, like Jessup’s or Tanner’s mentors. 

Once he did that, maybe he’d have some ground to stand on. But he wouldn’t, because Harrington didn’t have to. He didn’t have to get it, so he didn’t . And it really was as simple as that to him. It’s a luxury he didn’t even realize he had , because he’d never gone without it. He’d never been on the other side. Lamina wasn’t blind, she saw the way Pliny looked at Treech. How he’d looked when she’d feared her star would leave her in darkness. 

Angry. Not disbelieving, not pitying, not empathetic to an impossible choice, but angry . Mad that he was leaving Lamina, with no regard as to why he would do so. Not a shred of empathy for the boy being forced to choose between a girl he inexplicably chose to be around and a higher chance at surviving this hell. Then when Treech chose her despite all rationality pointing him in the opposite direction, slighting the most dangerous party going into the arena for her , Pliny hadn’t even looked relieved. Just calculating. 

Harrington had only spoken about Treech’s ‘use’. Mostly surrounding sponsors. Let the boy bring in the money , he’d said, you can focus on strategy while everyone’s attention is on him. He hadn’t just been talking about sponsors either. Other tributes considered her sunlight a bigger threat than her. Harrington was implying she should use him as bait and run when other tributes took it. Well, if he thought she would actually do that, he had another thing coming. Lamina would never abandon her gorgeous, captivating charmer of a boy. 

Treech would never truly be hers, not in the way she wanted him to be, but she would always be his. She had been since the day she met him, and she would be until the end of time. He’d have her, even if he didn’t want her. Nothing Pliny said or thought would ever change that, especially not when he didn’t have any skin in the game. Literally. Pliny was in a nice chair, sitting behind a fancy TV and watching this all happen from afar with the knowledge that everyone he loved was safe. What would he know about loss? 

The last time someone had been brutally ripped away from him like this was 10 years ago at the latest , when he was 8. Whoever he’d lost, he barely remembered. Treech? Treech was her whole life . He was every breath she took, every beat of her heart, the song in her soul to fill even the heaviest of silences. What even was she without him? What could possibly fill the sheer volume of nothing within her if he left her? If he chose to go, she could deal with that. As long as she could see him from afar, knowing he was safe and happy, she would be fine. Not okay, not for a long while, but fine . But if he died? If she had to see his corpse, knowing she could have saved him? Lamina would be better off dead. 

It’s not that Treech was her only reason for living. He was just her main one. If he died here, she would die with him no matter what happened afterward. How would she be able to exist without seeing him scale the roofs, waving so cheerfully at her once he spotted her in the crowd. How would she go on when the light of his smile burned into her skin with every part of home that reminded her of him? Especially when everywhere reminded her of him. Every part of District 7 was somehow attached to him and the wonderful memories she shared with him. When the sweetness of his soul was greater than honey and brighter than the sun. 

Was there even a life to live when it was haunted by the ghost of midnight-colored eyes? Stars paled in comparison to their sparkle, so how was she supposed to sleep underneath them knowing she’d never see the real thing again? When dark brown curls were no longer there for her to run her fingers through? When all those reminders were carved permanently into her perception of reality by the knowledge that her survival got him killed? 

Perhaps that’s why she could handle it if he chose to leave. Never before had she clung so tightly, though she knew she’d always wanted to be with him. Even without the realization that she loved him as more than a friend, his presence had always been a highlight in her days. To lose him like this… That was something she couldn’t ever recover from. Lamina didn’t need to experience it to know that every part of her life would refuse to let her feelings for her light die. If anything, him dying in the games would make her feel even more strongly about him. It would ruin her completely. Maybe it would affect Treech the same way, but he was stronger than she could ever hope to be. He’d pull through. And even if he, by some stroke of bad luck, didn’t … At least he’d be alive to live with the guilt. 

Pliny only considered the loss of ‘merely a friend’. And yeah, if someone ditched her she’d be able to let go. Even if that someone was Treech. But what the Capitol brats calling themselves ‘mentors’ didn’t understand was that this was nothing like that. Because they didn’t understand a situation where another’s death was their fault , where their mere survival cost other innocent kids their lives. They would never get it, because they didn’t want to. 

Already, Lamina could feel the wood beneath her fingers even when she’d put the ax back through her belt. The wind on her hand as she swung, the warmth from where she’d brushed her skin against Marcus’. It was a feeling she couldn’t imagine ever truly getting rid of. And she didn’t even know Marcus! But Pliny wouldn’t understand. How would he even begin to try, even if he’d wanted to in the first place? Which he didn’t. Pliny didn’t want to, because he only wanted her to live. And as much as she loved Pup, she hated Harrington for that. 

“Lamina?” 

Her thoughts came to a screeching halt as she whipped her head up from where she’d been staring at her shoes. The whiplash barely even registered to her as she only just stopped herself from launching forward and off the beams. There, just a few yards away from the beams, he stood. A beacon despite the darkness around them. Lamina hadn’t even noticed how dark it had gotten, yet somehow her light commanded her attention without even trying. 

Of course he was okay. Why had she even let a doubt cross her mind? He was capable. Strong and smart and fast. Nothing short of outright cheating would bring him down! It took all of the restraint she possessed and then some to stop her from throwing herself off of the beams and into his arms. With what little stray rays of light still illuminated the arena, she navigated her way towards the beam closest to him as he shuffled in her direction. 

“Treech! Are you okay? Did anything happen? Do you need anything?”

“I’m fine, Mina!” He called back, voice as soft as always. 

Soothing and sweet as honey. Just like everything else about him. Lamina narrowed her eyes in concern when she heard him begin to climb, but she didn’t try to stop him. Treech was a better climber than her, and they were both among the best. This was not the first time he’d scaled a surface in the dark, and if he stayed down there… that would be a whole lot more dangerous for them both . 

“Just got… held up a little.”

Something definitely happened, but she refrained from commenting. It could wait for now. Maybe she’d pry the truth from him later, but right now the only thing that mattered was him getting up there. No matter what tribute he’d ran into, she’d make sure they couldn’t hurt him again. Whether it was Reaper or Sol or literally anyone else, she’d fight them and win just to keep him safe. As long as he got to live past this Hell, she’d do anything. 

Heck, Coral’s whole pack could show up and she wouldn’t care. They could surround her down below, block off all her escapes, and she’d stare them straight in the eye as she prepared to defend her starlight, because he was with her . He chose her , and that’s all she cared about. Lamina refused to let that choice be his death warrant. With him by her side, she couldn’t care less what challenges she faced. 

Not even the most monstrous creature in existence would make her flinch while her sun still shone beside her. With him in her arms, no obstacle was too great to take down. If it meant his safety, the Capitol could come in and shoot her down for all she cared. Even poor Marcus’s fate wasn’t bad enough for her to sacrifice her Treech to avoid it. Lamina would fight any tribute except for her sunlight. Any other tribute, from little Wovey to terrifying Reaper, could come at her from the ground and she would face them without hesitation because they weren’t Treech. 

They could climb on the beams and she’d fight them all at the same time if that’s what was required to keep her Treech breathing. It could be Coral’s hate-filled eyes glaring up at her, or Tanner’s kind yet determined ones, even Mizzen’s too young yet battle-hardened ones. They would not make her falter for even a second. Because Treech was with her , not with them . She’d take a blade to her stomach and let herself be thrown off of the beams as long as it wasn’t him looking up at her from below. 

As soon as he was close enough, Lamina wrapped her arms around him and pulled him the rest of the way onto the beams. Up to safety, where she could hold him and shield him from anything that tried to hurt him. His surprised yelp melted into a delighted little chuckle. That adorable little sound that warmed her cheeks and made her stomach do all sorts of pleasant flips. She’d die a thousand deaths just to hear it one more time. 

“Missed you too, Mina.” He giggled. 

“Do you know how worried I was?” She asked, frowning at him. Still, she couldn’t help the fondness swelling in her chest. “You were supposed to meet me here hours ago!” 

“Sorry…” He rubbed the back of his neck, shooting her a sheepish smile. 

Lamina did not know who gave him the right to be so unfairly adorable all the time, but she both loved and hated them. Hated them because she could never stay upset with him for longer than a minute. But she also loved them, because her boy was the cutest being she’d ever had the pleasure of meeting and not a day went by without all his little expressions and habits bringing a smile to her face. 

“Sorry, I just- I’m glad you’re okay.” 

As she wrapped her arms around him tighter, she couldn’t help but relax into his hold as he returned the hug. He smelled like home. Warmth jumped from his skin to hers, straight into her heart, chasing away all the bad things that had consumed her since the buzzer rang all those hours ago. Just like he always did. No words were necessary, no particularly unique actions required. When he was there, nothing else mattered to her. 

How had she never realized her feelings before? It was all so obvious now that she’d accepted the fact she’d die without the chance to confess to him. Rejecting her would haunt him more than anything, probably. She wouldn’t do that to him. Not with everything else going on around them. All the things that were yet to come. After one last squeeze, she pulled back. Just a little. Her hands remained on his arms, keeping them connected even as she looked him in the eyes. 

“Sleep, I’ll take first watch.” 

“W-What? But-”

“No buts. I’ll wake you up when it’s your turn.” 

For a moment, he looked like he’d genuinely try to protest her decision. Or maybe order was a better descriptor. However, the look in her eyes must’ve been stubborn enough for him to decide it wasn’t worth it because her light leaned against her. Instinctively, she wrapped him up in her arms again as he got comfortable against her. It was getting pretty cold now. They’d have to huddle up to stay warm given the lack of blankets around here. Ha, as if they hadn’t been doing that for a whole week in the zoo already. 

“There’s no changing your mind, is there?”

“No.” 

He didn’t sound upset. Just amused. Maybe a little fond too, though that could also be her wishful thinking tricking her. Well, it was fun to pretend at least. It would never be a reality, but Lamina didn’t care. Her starlight was in her arms, safe and sound. Nothing else mattered to her. He was with her, and she’d give up everything to keep it that way. 

The warmth from the boy curled up against her was all she needed to keep going. To push her forward through all of this. And as the darkness turned nearly pitch-black, as color vanished and she paid attention to every little sound in the silence around her, as she let her thoughts pass along the time, she clung to her boy even tighter. 

She’d cling to her Treech until she died. Her one taste of home in her future tomb. A lifeline reminding her of what she was fighting for. Who she was fighting for. Her love, and all the people waiting on him. The sweetheart who chose her over the clearly superior option. 

Death didn’t seem so scary with the taste of honey on her lips. 

Chapter Text

When the replacement water bottles arrived for Lamina not too long after he’d taken over the watch from her, Treech couldn’t help but look over at the cameras. 

Harrington didn’t like him very much. Treech wasn’t stupid enough to believe otherwise. Knowing that did nothing to stop him from respecting the guy. Personal problems aside, he seemed… fine. At least he was trying to keep Lamina alive, and anyone who did that earned automatic brownie points with Treech. Points Harrington wouldn’t care about in the slightest, but they mattered to Treech. They mattered a lot. Why? 

Because Treech was going to die, and now he wouldn’t be leaving her completely alone. 

That knowledge eased some of the guilt swirling around in his gut the tiniest bit, which was… nice. It would suck to die with only pain and regret in his heart. Now that he knew things would be as close to ‘alright’ as they could be, the thorns in his heart eased their grip just the smallest bit, allowing the roses of Lamina’s place in his heart to bloom just that much more beautifully. His favorite garden of flowers, one he spent day and night nurturing. How he wished he could share it. 

But, well… That required sharing his heart with someone, and the only person he wanted to gift it to was far too high above him to ever accept. Why would something as grandiose and unique as the moon ever be concerned with one star out of a million? Why would the personification of all things ancient books called divine even look at some mere mortal, let alone tie themselves to one of countless blips on the radar? There wasn’t a world where the ocean would be concerned with a single raindrop in a storm. 

Lamina was the famous character whose story survived the wreckage of time, where Treech was the actor performing a supporting character in one of many iterations. An eternal presence and a name that couldn’t be lost to time because it had never been known in the first place. What chance could he possibly have with her? He was pushing his luck more than enough just trying to keep her from dropping him like she should have done years ago, he wasn’t gonna risk losing her because of a dream he knew could never be fulfilled. 

And things would never be okay for any of them, but they could be close. Lamina would pull through because she was tough like that. Treech… was not. Never had been, and never would be. He’d never get the chance, he supposed. And that was… not fine. Nothing was fine here, 23 children would be dead by the end of this, but they were as good as they could be. He and Lamina were as safe as they could be, and they were together, and Harrington would make sure his friend would make it through this and come out on the other end. 

Yet another reason it had to be her, not him. As if there weren’t enough already. 

There was someone outside of the districts who cared for her. Maybe she could show the Capitol how wrong they were about the districts, perhaps she could make a change no matter how miniscule. Besides, on a smaller scale, this was yet another representation of how much better Lamina was than him. This girl was just so good that even those who viewed them as subhuman couldn’t resist loving her. And really, was there a truth more soothingly strangling than that? He’d had the honor of being close to the fierce, warming glow of his sun, protected by the ferocious blaze of her care. Yet it was never close enough. 

Thousands of reasons reinforced his choice, but none of them made him feel comforted or content. When he looked down at his friend’s face, his Lamina’s soft features that were so relaxed with sleep, Treech couldn’t feel anything but anguish. Because she’d pull through, he knew she would, but did that make him any less at fault for her future pain? Was he not planning to leave her alone to face the rest of this nightmare with no one to have her back? 

All he could do was stay by her side for as long as possible, but… Well, he didn’t exactly have a say in when his time finally came. Treech didn’t know what would happen, especially given the unique circumstances. In years past, the victor would’ve been home again by this point. But here they were, with most of the tributes who made it into the games at all still around and not a hint as to how things would play out in this unexpectedly complex arena. What tunnels would lead to safety, and which ones would lead to death? Would they be attacked soon? Or would the other kids wait them out? Just how dragged out would this disgusting game be? 

What if he couldn’t save Lamina all this pain? 

There was only so much he could do, especially when it was usually her who fought the battles. The mere thought of hurting another person disgusted him, but Treech was ready for it. If it came down to it, and it most certainly would, he was prepared to do what it took to protect her for a change. Who knew? Maybe it would make the thought of dying easier once he was weighed down by the guilt of the innocent lives he’d taken. He hoped it would. That way at least something good came of this. 

But all of that was stuff for the future. So he should keep it in the future, because worrying about it wouldn’t change anything. It would just drive him insane. Even more so than the sight of the little girl laying not too far away from him and Lamina, so fragile and vulnerable. Over the past few hours, he’d been unable to fully look away from her silhouette. Apparently Reaper had left her there while Lamina had been on watch, but he’d gone back into the tunnels soon after laying her down. What a tragic thought that was. Reaper clearly cared for her, but he’d been forced to leave her behind regardless because there was nothing more he could do for her. It was a painful truth, but a truth nonetheless. 

Poor Dill was still alive, if the occasional hacking coughs wracking her small frame were anything to go by, but she didn’t have long. Treech wasn’t sure what to do. He wanted so badly to comfort her, but he doubted she’d even notice. Then again… he’d noticed Lamina when she’d saved him all those years ago. And if he’d died that day, he was certain he’d be grateful for the company. Glancing down at his friend, Treech considered his options. This might be a risk, but… If it made Dill’s last moments a little more bearable, it would be worth it. More than worth it, even. It’s the least the poor kid deserved. 

Leaving the beams was a terrible idea. Not because Lamina would be in danger, asleep and vulnerable without him, but because he was leaving his two biggest safety nets. The main one was obviously Lamina herself, his wonderful hearth. Then there were the beams, specifically the fact that no one could climb them as well as the District 7 Duo. On the ground, he could only hope they didn’t throw their weapons at him as he ran away. But on the beams? They could both take one side and fight one-on-one with whichever tribute took on the struggle of getting up to their level. So yeah, leaving on his own was a horrible idea. 

Pity Treech had never been known for his decision making skills. 

Just in case she was awake, he lowered his head to Lamina’s ear and whispered a quiet “be back soon” into her hair before gently lifting her up and shuffling out from underneath her. He could almost hear Vipsania’s frustrated voice demanding to know what he was doing, but she wasn’t here. She was safe up in her golden tower, looking down on the filthy beasts forced to fight to the death down here. Deep in the pits of Hell. And Lamina was up here where no one but Treech could easily reach her. She’d be fine. 

So as he laid down Lamina’s head and began to descend from their perch, he found he didn’t feel nearly as nervous as he probably should. After a quick scan to make sure the coast was clear, he threw his legs over the edge of the beams and searched around for hand- and footholds in the stone slab. Careful to make as little noise as possible, he made his way down until both feet were planted firmly on the arena floor. Nervously, his eyes shifted around the arena. From Marcus’ crumpled form to the heaps of debris and partially crumbled structures, then finally to Dill’s prone form in the distance. 

She was just beyond the pile of rubble that had housed several weapons. Most had been taken by now, except for a few pieces of glinting metal scattered over the central ‘structure’ of the games. The main ‘prop’ in this terrifying, soon-to-be-bloody excuse of a show. One so unlike all previous ones he’d been in that he could barely comprehend it, leaving him scrambling to figure out how to act in it. With so many side characters in a story, how was he supposed to know which role to play? 

And wasn’t that sickeningly twisted? Comparing this horrible situation to something as wonderful and joyous as a stage play set up by children like they weren’t polar opposites of one another. It should be impossible, yet somehow he’d managed it. Acting was his life, and pretending this was just another script to bring to life may be the only thing keeping him tethered to sanity aside from Lamina. It was so much easier to stomach all of this if he pretended the weapons were props and the walls were just scraps of leftover wood kept together with sticky tree sap. 

As he carefully navigated his way over the unstable rubble, Treech caught a glimpse of a familiar shape. Stopping for a second, he squinted at it to confirm his suspicion. Yep, that was an ax. There was a second ax in the arena, which was… unexpected. Usually there was only one. Glancing back at the beams, Treech felt guilt creeping into him. She’d picked a weapon before going up, and he’d been too preoccupied with seeing her again and feeling safe to even consider it. Why was she sticking with him again? She’d be much better off on her own without him to hold her back. 

Well, he was here anyway, and she didn’t seem inclined to leave. As long as that was the case, he’d keep his mouth shut about his doubts. It was selfish, but Treech had never claimed he wasn’t. Maybe he would’ve been if he wasn’t days away from death, but it was too late to change course now. His demise was inevitable. With a sigh, he let his eyes drift back to Dill. Both of them were doomed, but if he was down here anyway he may as well grab the ax and make himself the tiniest bit more useful to Lamina. Climbing further up the mountain of rubble, he managed to make his way to the shiny black metal object and slid to his knees next to it. Hesitantly, he laid his hands on the metal.

Cold. Almost painfully so. Suppressing a hiss, he lifted it with slow movements, testing the weight in his hands. He’d never seen an ax like this, made entirely of some kind of metal. It was lighter than the ones at home, though not by much. Just enough to be noticeable, which could end up saving his life or ending it. Passing it back and forth between his hands, he considered it for a second before standing up and swinging it a few times. It wasn’t perfect, but what was he honestly expecting? Treech had a weapon now, and who was he to ask for more when he was dead anyway? 

Finally, he pushed the ax through the loops of his belt, made specifically to hold one. Every single person in District 7 had one, even the non-lumberjacks. It was basically a cultural thing by this point. A show of community and solidarity the Capitol could never understand enough to put a stop to. Treech couldn’t help but slide his gaze around the arena. How many of these kids wore their own cultures in a way he could never understand? How many things meant the world to everyone else while he didn’t even notice it? 

It was a painful thought, but dwelling on it wouldn’t do anything. The only thing he could do was share what he knew with his fellow damned souls and hope it would bring them something positive in what would likely be the last ticks of their clocks. Sliding down from the tower of destroyed ceiling pieces, he made his way to Dill’s side. The mere sight of her frail body broke his heart. There was scarily little he could do, but he had to try. He wouldn’t want Lamina to die alone when her time came, nor would he want to spend his last minutes alone. The least he could do was provide whatever comfort was possible in this situation. 

Quietly, he sank to the ground next to her, ignoring the way every fiber of his being begged him to figure out how to keep her alive. Treech already knew what was causing this, and the only thing that could save her was outside of the arena. In a place no district person would ever be allowed. Panlo and Sheaf had been proof of that. Dill was doomed the second her name had been called out and she’d been dragged from a dusty zoo into a dusty arena. In a way, she was lucky to have made it further than Hy, who hadn’t even made it into the arena in the first place.

“Hey Dill., I- I don’t know if you want me to be here, but I thought- I thought maybe you’d like some company? I’m so sorry if that’s presumptuous or something but I’m not sure what you’d want me to do…”

Eyebrows furrowing, Treech carefully considered his options, wondering what had possessed him to do this. They were in a death game and he was letting both himself and Lamina be sitting ducks for, what? A girl who was dead anyway? But then her tiny body convulsed and as he flinched back in surprise, he realized that it didn’t matter. Who cares that both she and him were goners already? That didn’t make her any less deserving of comfort, and if he by some miracle ended up being the last one standing while he’d let her die here, all alone… How would he live with himself? Was life really worth living if he proved he was willing to give up all his values just to get one extra day on earth? 

“O-Okay uhm… It’s- It’s gonna be okay. You’ll feel better soon, I- I promise, I-” His breathing hitched as Dill’s expression twitched, leaving him unsure of what to say. What was there to say? After a moment of hesitation, he reached out and took her hand in his. “I can sing for you? I- I heard Reaper say singing’s a big thing in 11, right? Would you want that?” 

Maybe he was hallucinating it, but he saw her head move the tiniest amount, a ghost of a nod. Or- No, her hand was squeezing his. It was barely noticeable, but it was there. Treech would have missed it if he hadn’t been so focused on her. Of course, he made sure to keep his ears open for any movement, but it was still entirely quiet. Everyone was still asleep it seemed. Everyone except for them. The sky had become just the slightest bit lighter, meaning it was starting to approach morning. He’d have to leave Dill soon. But she wanted him to sing, so he’d sing. 

“Okay, I’ll sing for you!” He tried to smile, even though she couldn’t see it. That was a blessing, really, because he was failing miserably. 

Giving it a moment of thought, he wondered what song would be appropriate for this scenario. Casting a long look at the girl beneath him, he gave her hand a small squeeze. He felt cold, colder than the winter chill had ever made him, as she coughed once more. No amount of ice compared to the painful freezing of his chest as he watched tiny red droplets splatter on the stone beneath them. She was dying, truly dying now. With no parent to sing her to sleep, just a stranger she was supposed to hate in this punishment for a war neither of them had wanted. 

Singing was important to District 11. They sang for the sake of community, if he understood Reaper’s words correctly. Treech knew he’d never be home for the girl, but maybe he could remind her of it for just one precious moment. One small joyous bloom in her chest before her beautiful soul withered away. Dill should have gotten the world, and she’d gotten this torture instead. The least she deserved was one last lullaby to send her off to eternal sleep. So he took a small sip from one of the water bottles Dill’s mentor had sent her and took a deep breath. 

“ Fate has been cruel, unfair and unkind

How could they have sent you away?

The blame was their own, the punishment yours

I hope they’ll be silent today”

Those in the Capitol would assume ‘they’ referred to District 11. Treech hoped one day they’d understand every bad thing he said was aimed at them. Every scathing or critical lyric flowing from his lips was a shot meant for them , not their victims. One day they’d understand their names had been hidden between his lines, and the narcissism and bias that had clouded them to the point of these monstrous actions was the same cloud that had kept them from understanding what he meant. 

But right here, and right now, only one person’s thoughts mattered. It was early enough Treech doubted that any bastard from the Capitol would bother paying attention, but he was fine with that. The one kid he was sure could hear him was the only one whose thoughts he cared for, and the small squeeze of her hand told him all he needed to know. She understood what he was saying. Dill knew, and that was the only important thing. 

“But into the stillness, I’ll bring you a song

And I will your company keep

Till your tired eyes and my lullabies

Have carried you softly to sleep”

The original song had different words and more verses, but Treech needed this to be special. So he changed the lyrics until they fit this moment and hoped his voice would bring this poor girl one last taste of peace. It wouldn’t erase the horror of her fate, but if it helped her that’s all that mattered. Occasionally he looked around to make sure he was still the only one moving around freely. Deep down, he hoped any tribute that wasn’t would respect Dill enough not to kill him before she was gone. 

“Peace now, sweet darling

Goodnight little flower

Rest now in moonlight’s embrace

Bear up my lullaby winds of the earth

Through cloud and through sky and through space

Carry the peace and the coolness of night

And carry my sorrow in kind

Sweet Dill, I hope you know how much you’re loved

May troubles be far from your mind

Please forgive my singing you goodbye”

Perhaps it was wrong to include the reminder, but Dill didn’t seem to mind. She didn’t seem very aware of what he was singing at all, slowly drifting away to the sound of his singing rather than the words themselves. It was painfully clear she didn’t have long left. Mere minutes at most, given how much her state had deteriorated. What little pressure she’d been able to apply to his hand was gone, leaving him with only the shaky rise and fall of her chest to assure him she was still alive. 

It wouldn’t last long though. The blood dribbling past her lips made that very clear. Her breaths were weakening as her life slowly slipped away, and something told him she was aware of that. As aware as the haze she seemed to be under would allow her to be. Treech wished he could give her more than a lullaby, but he had nothing to give her. Nothing but a song so quiet anyone listening in would feel like an intruder. It was meant for her alone. 

“ The years you should have lived,

Have now been turned to stone

But what time you’ve got left

Won’t be faced on your own”

He’d make sure of that. If nothing else, at least she knew there was someone there for her. That someone was as good as a stranger, but Treech doubted she cared for that if the thought had even occurred to her. Surely she’d want her loved ones to be there with her, but they couldn’t be. They’d never get the chance to properly send her off to eternal rest. He’d had to take on that task in their absence, and if there was anything he was sure of it was that he would not screw it up.

I hope that I’ll bring you

A peace to sink in deep

We love you, I promise

To guard you while you sleep”

Once she was gone, he’d be forced to leave, but well… He was staying with her for now. He’d guard her while she slipped away, making sure no one could destroy her last taste of peace. Her last taste of home . Reaper hadn’t been able to do it, likely knowing how much of a risk this was, but Treech already knew he wasn’t going to make it out of here. His goal was to make the most of the time he had left, and this was simply a continuation of that. So he’d do it in Reaper’s stead, and maybe that would ease any guilt the older boy may feel about leaving Dill to die. 

“ May all your dreams be sweet tonight

Safe upon your bed of moonlight

And know not of sadness, pain, or care

And when I dream, I’ll find you

Yeah I’ll meet you there”

Dill’s chest had almost stopped moving now. Something wet trailed down his cheeks, dripping down his chin and sinking into the fabric of his pants and her worn down shirt. At some point he’d started crying, but he refused to let it affect his voice for even a second. Not once did his tone waver as he watched this too-young girl take her final breaths. Dill wasn’t the first young child he’d seen die, but it was different nonetheless. 

“ Sleep”

It was so raw and so real in a way the games had never been before. Back when they were events on a screen he couldn’t even afford. Treech had only ever seen glimpses every now and again, and what few public executions he’d seen were rarely of kids. He hadn’t known Dill well, he didn’t know any of the other tributes well aside from Lamina, but he didn’t need to know them in order to grieve the ones that were already gone. He just needed to know that they’d been there, and now they weren’t anymore. They’d been too young. All of them were too young, and now they’d never get to grow any older. They would never be old enough to face this, if it was even possible to be in the first place. 

“Sleep”

Finally, Dill’s prone body gave one last twitch. Her eyes opened the smallest amount, giving him a dazed but grateful stare, before turning upward. To the ceiling, to the sky above. To a freedom neither of them would ever see again. A small convulsion wracked through her, eyes starting to shut. One last, shuddering breath passed through her lips before she stilled completely. Those once bright, innocent eyes never closed completely.

“ Sleep…”

Soft thumps and a buzz echoed from near him, but Treech couldn’t care less in the moment. With a careful motion, he brushed her hair off of her shoulder before moving his hand down to her neck. Shaking fingers pressed against her skin, searching with desperate, dying hope for a pulse he knew he wouldn’t find. Maybe it took him seconds, maybe it took him minutes, but he eventually brought himself to close her eyes and lower his forehead to her still chest. 

Knowing and accepting were two different things, and that truth had never hit him as hard as it did in that moment. Treech wished it never had. 

He’d gladly live in denial if it saved him from the incurable ache in his chest. So let him hope for the impossible, it would be better than the weight pressing down on his chest and the burn in his eyes slowly bleeding into his brain as he wasted water he didn’t have to sob into a dead girl’s chest. Maybe he should have stayed on the beams, where he could fool himself into being fine by repeating ‘at least it wasn’t Lamina’ in his head until he went insane. That way he’d have been able to remain a coward and refuse to face the reality that nobody was winning here. Nobody but the mentor of whoever survived. 

Treech wasn’t brave enough to accept that even Lamina wouldn’t come out of here unscathed. That his death would take away her ability to say ‘at least it’s not Treech’ to the deaths they would be forced to witness. He didn’t want to be brave enough either, because while his death may not break her… It would scar her, and that hurt enough to make him boil with hatred and shame. Hatred at the Capitol for doing this, at the rebels for starting a fight they ended up losing, and at himself for ever allowing her to grow so close to him. Shame at the fact that she’d saved his life, and this is how he ended up repaying her. By planning to leave her and scar her for life, just because he was too much of a weakling to face a life without her in it. 

He hated himself for not being able to stop this, and the only escape from the pricking under his skin and the painful heat in his chest was a death he was too scared to face. Pathetic . 

“I didn’t realize you knew her.”

Startled, Treech whipped his head up to see the glint of metal in the light. A sickle, like Vipsania’s last name. Would she see her victory die by the hand of her own namesake? How ironic. Slowly, he reached for the handle of his ax, trembling fingers sliding around the smooth metal as his muscles tensed. He traced the arm holding the metal to find a face tied to a now familiar voice. 

“I didn’t realize that was a prerequisite to grieving a young girl’s lost life.”

“Even at the risk of your own life?” Tanner asked, looking at him something akin to intrigue. 

“Nobody deserves to be alone, especially in their last moments.”

He shrugged, not sure what else to say. It’s not like he’d been all that concerned with justifying his decisions while he’d been so focused on being there for Dill. Besides, he shouldn’t need to explain any further than that. Scratch that, he didn’t need to say anything else. If Tanner didn’t understand, that was his problem to deal with. Though it didn’t look like Treech needed to worry about that at all, since the other tribute didn’t seem inclined to prod further. He merely smiled with a slightly distracted look in his eyes. 

“Of course that’s your biggest concern here.” Tanner said, shaking his head slightly in mild disbelief. Or maybe it was amusement? 

“Was I supposed to do something else?”

“Worry about your own safety, maybe.”

“We’re in the Hunger Games, ‘safety’ isn’t exactly a thing here.”

They regarded each other for a moment, both eyeing each others’ weapons as Treech slowly stood up and gripped his ax properly. He didn’t take it out of his belt yet, hoping to avoid a fight, but he was ready to whip it out in mere milliseconds if it came down to it. Neither of them moved as they sized each other up. Raising his head to meet one single, hazel eye, Treech tilted his head. A question and a warning in one. Whatever direction this would go, it was in the other’s hands. 

Above them, the sky continued to brighten slowly. Not yet a sunset, but no longer pitch black. Dawn, when his brother and father wake up to start their day. Were they in the breakroom already, watching this go down from so far away? Would they be proud of him if he died here just because he’d wanted to comfort a little girl who’d deserved better? Would they grieve with melancholy over the tragedy of it all or would they rage at his stupidity? Those questions were pushed aside as Tanner finally broke the silence between them. 

“Aren’t you worried? You could have died.”

“And so could you.” 

Treech pulled a few inches of his ax out of his belt, keeping his face carefully neutral. Though Tanner eyed it with a hint of trepidation, he didn’t make a move to strike first. Neither of them wanted to break their tenuous, unspoken truce. While he didn’t understand Tanner’s reasons for this, Treech wasn’t exactly inclined to change his mind. As long as nobody attacked him, he wouldn’t fight anyone. There was no reason to voluntarily cause more pain other than to go home, but Treech already knew he wouldn’t. 

After several long seconds of consideration, Tanner finally sighed and attached the sickle to… something. Treech couldn’t see what exactly kept the weapon from falling to the ground, but the boy from 10 let go of the handle and crossed his arms before shooting him a look that somehow conveyed both disbelief at his choices and concern for his mental wellbeing, which… That latter part was probably fair, if he was honest. 

“You’d have a much better chance of going home if you’d stayed up there.” Tanner reminded him, nodding in the direction of the beams. 

“By giving up my humanity? And then what , Tanner? Why should I go home if I won’t be able to move on? What’s the point of it all if I can’t ever sleep at night?!” 

“You’d be alive.”

“Only physically. That’s about as good as being dead.” 

Something flickered across Tanner’s face. An expression Treech couldn’t quite place. Regret, maybe? Contemplation? Was it something he’d said? Maybe he shouldn’t have been so snappy, since Tanner hadn’t done anything to deserve it. It wasn’t fair to subject the other to all his conflicting and confusing emotions when they were both in the same boat here, rowing desperately against a cruel, unforgiving tide to get to a destination that didn’t exist. There were no happy endings here. Treech opened his mouth to apologize for whatever he’d said that had upset Tanner, but the boy just huffed out a laugh. 

“You fascinate me, Treech. Truly, you do.”

“I- What?”

“You’ve every reason to be mean, and yet here you are. Why?”

“What do you mean, why ? Did you not just hear me?” Treech frowned in confusion. “Why would I be mean to you? It’s not like any of us chose to be here.” 

“In case you haven’t noticed, my alliance really wants you dead.”

“And my continued existence is a direct threat to your survival, what’s your point ?” 

Tanner laughed again, far more openly this time. Less restrained, without the guardedness that Treech hadn’t even noticed was there. But what it lost in reserve, it gained in bitter disappointment. Somehow, Tanner seemed both helplessly frustrated and endlessly amused. It was kind of starting to feel like there was more to this whole interaction than the boy from 10 was letting on. That there was a reason he was here, without his alliance and seemingly no intent to fight him. 

The other tribute wanted something, though what it might be continued to elude Treech. It made sense, too. Tanner was judging him for putting himself in danger for no reason, but he was arguably doing the exact same thing. The possibility of receiving an ax to the skull was not one to take lightly, yet he’d walked up to Treech and announced his presence anyway. He could have snuck up to him and attacked him, but he hadn’t. 

“Why are you here?”

“What, can’t a guy just want to talk?”

Instead of dignifying that with an answer, Treech merely raised his eyebrow. As much as he believed in showing basic human decency, that didn’t erase the fact that they’d been thrown into this arena to kill one another over the course of however long it would take to have a sole survivor. As much as he loathed to admit it, Tanner had had a point. He was being stupid, coming down here. But then, so was he . They were both making terrible decisions here, and only one of them had stated a solid reason. 

“Yeah, I suppose that’s fair.” Tanner mumbled in defeat. “I just thought… I don’t know what I was thinking, to be honest. You’re right, I shouldn’t be here. I’ll go.” 

“Wait!” Treech’s mouth moved before his brain caught up, stopping Tanner in his tracks where he’d turned around to leave. “I never said I didn’t want you here, I was just wondering. You know, since you were the one who brought up safety. I- I’m sorry I came across wrong.” 

The look Tanner gave him was strangely soft for someone in an alliance whose hit list had his name at the top in bold neon-red print. His smile was less bitter this time, more regretful than anything else. As if he was dreaming of an impossibility, unable to let it go even though he knew it was destroying him. Or maybe that was just Treech projecting, since he’d been doing a lot of that lately. Not just in regards to Lamina anymore either. 

“It’s fine.” He looked at Treech’s skeptical expression and spoke again, more firmly this time. “No really! I get it, don’t worry. Besides, you have a point, I am being a little hypocritical.”

“Yeah, sure, a little .” 

“Oh shut up.”

They smiled at each other as silence fell again, more comfortable than before. More like home, where he and his friends would run out of things to say and simply enjoy each other’s presence until something new came up. It kind of reminded him of the way he and Lamina could so easily work past any miscommunication or misunderstanding. Despite the fact that either one or both of them would be dead in a few days, Treech couldn’t help but enjoy Tanner’s presence. He was so very different from his Lamina, yet somehow so similar. Less so now that Brandy was gone, given how protective he’d been of her, but still. 

It was hard to say for sure, since he’d met Tanner only last week while he’d known Lamina for most of his life, but something told him they might have gotten along if they’d met under different circumstances. Talking to this boy came almost as easily as talking to his beautiful Lamina, and Treech couldn’t help but hope they’d get a second start. Whether that was rebirth or the afterlife or whatever else came after death, he hoped he’d be able to meet them there. 

“Treech…” Tanner started, before hesitating. “Treech, I-”

“Something wrong?” 

He took a step forward, reaching out before stopping himself. Would the other appreciate his concern or his comfort? Especially since they both had weapons they could easily use to kill one another. What if Tanner felt threatened? That certainly wouldn’t help the clear mental conflict he was certainly experiencing. The poor guy already looked so torn up, the last thing he needed was anxiety to add onto this situation. But then again, he looked so sad and lonely and what if he’d been as close to Brandy as Treech was to Lamina? 

He’d want something like a shoulder to lean on in this situation. Sure, Tanner had the pack, but somehow Treech doubted Coral and Mizzen were particularly ready to bring comfort to a guy they knew they’d have to kill to survive. They had each other to worry about, so where did that leave Tanner? An outsider in his own alliance. Someone who was only there for his possible use in a fight and nothing more. It wasn’t fair. None of this was fair. The pair from 4 shouldn’t have to worry about each others’ lives and Tanner shouldn’t have to be alone. 

“Do you… Are you okay?” 

“Honestly? No. Not in the slightest.”

Frowning, Treech considered his options before deciding that he’d made plenty of utterly idiotic decisions already in the past hour. What’s one more? Besides, Tanner hadn’t attacked him when he’d had every opportunity to while Treech had been focused on Dill. If he hadn’t taken the chance then, he wouldn’t take it now. Swallowing all his doubts and fears about how this might end, he stepped forward and ignored the other’s slightly anxious questions in favor of wrapping his arms around his neck and pulling him close. 

Tanner froze in surprise for a solid three seconds before melting into the embrace. Strong, muscular arms wrapped around his torso and squeezed like their life depended on it. Maybe it did, in a way. Treech knew that if he lost Lamina he’d be adrift, desperate to find some kind of lifeline to cling to. In need of a reason to keep going, to continue fighting for a future he could no longer imagine existing. 

Call it cruel, the way he was making that future more painful for both of them. Call him cruel for initiating this despite knowing it would only ruin them both further. It wasn’t his fault that only one of them could possibly find that future, if it was either of them at all. Besides, the Games would be a taint on all of them, regardless of who survived and who didn’t. At the very least, maybe Treech could give Tanner something to cling to. If only briefly, lasting only for as long as they stayed there. 

It wasn’t pretty, the way Tanner was choking back tears as he leaned down to hide his face in Treech’s neck, but art didn’t need to be pretty to be meaningful. And when it came down to it, wasn’t that what mattered? Treech could live with his fate as long as he’d meant something for the world, no matter how small his impact may be in the grand scheme of things. Just one person’s brightened life was enough for him, so long as the light he’d given them didn’t die with him. With one last squeeze, Tanner let him go. 

“You’re too nice to be in here.”

“Aren’t we all?” 

“Maybe we are.” Tanner looked away. “Maybe…”

Treech looked up, noticing the way it was almost sunrise. He should get back to the beams soon, especially since he’d left lamina alone far longer that he’d intended to already. But Tanner had wanted to say something before, right? Maybe he could spare a few more moments, just to give the other some closure. Glancing back at the other boy, Treech decided it wouldn’t hurt if he was quick about it. 

“So what were you trying to say?”

“Oh! Well, I just-” Tanner turned a little red before schooling himself. “I just wanted to say-”

“Treech?!” 

Eyes widening, he turned to the beams. Lamina! She was awake already? He’d thought he had a few more hours for sure , but maybe the noise had shaken her out of her sleep? Either way, she’d clearly noticed his absence. Looking between Tanner and the beams in the distance, he shouted back a quick “I’m here!” Before turning back to the other boy with an apologetic look. 

“It’s okay,” Tanner smiled tightly, “It- It doesn’t matter anyway. I should get back before Coral realizes I’m gone.” 

“Right. It was- It was nice talking to you.” 

“Yeah. Uhm, Dill’s mentor sent food. You can take it.”

Blinking, he looked over to where Tanner was pointing to see several packets of food. Oh, right, there had been buzzing right before Tanner had first spoken to him. Why would her mentor send food when she was already dead? Capitol folks were weird… Giving a nod of acknowledgement, Treech stepped back slowly, closer to the beams. He really should go back now, but… The idea that Tanner could be dead the next time they saw each other cut deep, even though he barely knew anything about the boy other than his name. It wasn’t fair. 

“You know?” Tanner said, staring forlorn at the beams in the distance as Treech moved to grab the packets. “I wish we’d met somewhere else.” 

He turned, then, and started to walk away. Treech felt frozen to the spot. To have someone say it out loud like that felt more real than the thought of it. Sure, he’d considered it, especially in the zoo, but… Never anything more than that. Even during this conversation, he hadn’t dared broach the subject. It was a little too raw, but letting Tanner leave like that felt wrong. It felt unfinished and unfair to let him just leave like that, though he knew he couldn’t stop him. Tanner wouldn’t leave Coral and Mizzen, not when Treech knew he couldn’t climb. 

He wouldn’t join him and Lamina on the beams, even if he’d offered, because Tanner would be stuck up there between two people who could come and go whenever they pleased. Two people with weapons and a notoriously strong bond that had become apparent the second Treech had chosen Lamina over what seemed like the obviously better choice to everybody else. If they turned on him, Tanner would be dead, and Treech knew he wouldn’t take the risk. So he didn’t offer. 

“Tanner!” The other stopped, not far from the hole he must have come out through. “Me too.” 

They shared one last look, before the boy from 10 nodded and disappeared out of sight. Treech stood rooted to the spot for just a second longer, before gathering the food and sprinting back to the beams. Slipping over the rubble and scaling the vertical beam closest to him under Lamina’s worried gaze, he made his way back up to safety. Back to her side. As soon as he reached the top, she visibly sagged in relief. 

“Sorry, had to get us breakfast.” He held up the packets. 

“Why would you do that? Our mentors can send us stuff!” 

Right, Harrington was actually sending stuff. He’d probably send them food at some point, if only just because he had to. But well, aside from the whole Dill situation, Treech would much rather make sure they had food without relying on their mentors. Who knew when Lamina’s mentor would decide to be a bitch for no reason? It’s not a risk Treech was willing to take. Not when Lamina’s life was just as much at stake here as his was. 

“It’s probably best to preserve funds. How much do they even have?” 

“I… Suppose so. Just- Treech, please don’t leave like that again.”

When he looked at her, at those pretty twinkling eyes and those gorgeous locks he could run his fingers through all day no matter how matted it was with dirt, he couldn’t refuse her. She could have asked him to slit his own throat right there and he’d have done so without question or hesitation. If it would make her happy, he’d do anything. Besides, he should have  done what she was asking anyway. When she looked at him like that, worry clear on her face, any protest he might have had died on his lips. 

“I won’t, I promise.” He looked up at the sky. “It’s early, you should go back to sleep.” 

“But-”

“You made me get my hours, now I’m returning the favor. I’ve still got the watch, Mina.” 

“Oh fine, but I am so getting you back for this tomorrow!” 

“Right, right!” He giggled happily while she settled back into his arms. “Tomorrow’s not today though, so that doesn’t sound like my problem yet.”

“Oh I’ll make it your problem,” Lamina grumbled, though a smile played on her lips. 

It didn’t take long for her to drift off again, leaving him alone with his thoughts once more. While he was still here, he had to make sure Lamina got as much sleep as possible, but that didn’t stop the selfish twinge in his chest at the time they were losing here. Time they could have spent conversing was spent with one of them sound asleep and unaware of the world around them. But Treech refused to let it get to him the same way he refused to let his fear of the future consume him. It would only eat at him until there was nothing left to destroy. 

That’s not how he wanted to spend his last few days. 

Maybe he had several, maybe he wouldn’t even get one. It didn’t matter. Not when he could look up through the hole in the sky and see what might be his last sunrise. Wasn’t it telling that he was sitting there, his Lamina in his lap as he contemplated death, and the only thing he could compare the colorful spectacle to was his own heart? The way it brightened, exploding into a million dazzling hues every time he saw Lamina again. When she reappeared like the sun in the morning. 

Death was scary, but the thought of being left without brilliance, a void of ink black with no way to gain back that vibrance… Nothing was more terrifying than that. Nothing. Not death, not a meteor strike, not even the worst torture the Capitol could imagine for him. Not even the thought of never seeing home again. He’d gladly cling to memories of a better time until his clock ran out just to avoid that fate. So as he took a sip of the water Harrington had sent earlier, Treech leaned back against one of the two vertical beams and watched the display so far above him. He watched with the comforting taste of stale, stolen bread and the earthy smell of morning rain in his nose even as he laid there with an empty stomach in an arena filled with dust and the faintest traces of smoke that had billowed through their future graveyard mere days ago. 

Black faded to purple, yellow and red painting the fluffy-looking clouds so high up they barely even registered as real. A surreal dream that could not possibly be. Stars that had looked so bright slowly disappeared, to be replaced by pinks and oranges that mixed into each other, leaving a nice bright blue. Soon enough, they’d be joined properly by their fiery creator, which would wipe out the colors and scorch down on all that lived below. It would see the tributes burn in its blaze like the Capitol gleefully watching them die in the games, untouchable on the pedestal it had convinced itself it deserved. A throne built by the blood it spilt for its own enjoyment. 

But unlike the Capitol, the sun had good sides even for the less fortunate. It gave life just as much as it took. A balance that let ecosystems flourish the way they’d had for eons. In contrast, the Capitol only ever took. It killed, it destroyed, it burned , then it built sandcastles with the ashes as it declared itself the king of the doomed. That’s why the Capitol would never be the sun. It was nothing but a forest fire pretending to be a fireplace. Always so eager to say it brought warmth in the winter while it tore mercilessly through everything in its path, leaving nothing behind. Yes, the Capitol was a forest fire. The world would bloom more beautifully than ever once it was gone. 

The real sun was right beside him, and the light slowly flooding the arena was going to wake her up soon if Treech didn’t do something about it. He couldn’t take his clothes off, because exposed skin would only speed up the sun burning process, but he could take off his hat. Which would leave his face exposed, but hopefully the slightly tilted beam would protect him at least for a little while. Brushing a strand of hair out of her face with a tender hand, he carefully placed his father’s gift over his darling’s face. 

She’d never truly be his, but who actually cared about reality anyways? Truth could set one free sometimes, but it was cruel. It was harsh and it was mean. Fantasies were much nicer, warm like evenings spent sitting around the hearth sharing what little scraps of food his family could afford. Lamina wasn’t his, she deserved far better than what he could ever hope to offer her, but where reality failed him he still had his mind. His hopes and dreams and the wishful thinking that had taken up his thoughts long before their names were drawn from the bowls and the ending to their story was decided. 

He didn’t mind wondering about the what-ifs that would never be real as long as she was still there to keep the possibility of impossible scenarios alive. Maybe that was unhealthy, but Treech found he really didn’t care. His life was pretty much over anyway. He was a dead boy walking no matter how many different angles he tried to look at this situation from. The steel blade of death dug into his neck, the arms of the hereafter held him around his abdomen and the gun of a lost future pressed against his forehead. There were no two ways about it. Treech Meran was going to die, and Lamina Woudster would be the one to hold Silvy while she cried about her big brother’s death.

She’d help Murai carry the weight of yet another loss in the family, she’d help them take care of his little duckling Bark, maybe she’d even find a way to become his father’s daughter to fill the void he’d leave behind. But either way, he knew for certain she’d be there for them once he couldn’t be any longer. It was a given, a certainty, and Treech… he wasn’t happy about it, but when did he ever get what he wanted? It’s the best he could ask for from a world as cruel as this one. The pain was a given. Life was unfair, life was unkind, and above all it was inevitable, as he’d known all his life. Even this new low, he should have expected. 

There was no stopping it, especially not now . That ship had sailed long ago. The end of the line had been drawn, his curtains were ready to close, and all that was left to do was make his final bow count for something . One last chance to do something good, for once. The final act had started, and Treech was determined for this to not go wrong. He’d failed more than enough already. This would be the one time he succeeded, even though he wouldn’t win. He didn’t need victory, he just needed to know he’d done something right for once. 

And he wouldn’t even get that . 

Treech wouldn’t live long enough to know whether he’d succeeded, but… he didn’t want to think about that. He wanted to lose himself in the slowly fading colors of the sky and the weight in his lap. In memories of better days, dancing with the ghosts of endless maybes and might haves that would never be now that the stage was collapsing beneath his feet. He wanted to be a dreamer like Lamina, always thinking of a better solution and imagining a kinder world. Not as a delusion, like Treech himself, but as a genuine possibility. A distant future that could happen one day. 

But he wasn’t that optimistic. Not anymore. He hadn’t been in a long time, to the point where he could barely remember when he lost the bright-eyed wishful thinking he used to poses. Of course he’d never stopped hoping, but in the back of his mind there was always the dark, bloodied stain of cynicism blemishing a canvas of pastels. It had always been a story to him, a tale to tell. One of days past and one of impossible fantasies. Never one of the present, nor one of reality as it was in the here and now. No amount of hope that he'd brought Dill and Tanner some kind of comfort in the nightmare they shared would change the fact that they were doomed and his actions didn't change anything. They just brought temporary relief, and Treech wasn't optimistic enough to think it could be anything more than that. 

Maybe Lamina wasn’t that optimistic anymore either, but as he looked at the way the red had almost faded from the sky, leaving only lighter colors to anticipate the sun’s arrival, he couldn’t help but pray to every deity he’d ever read about that she was. It was one of the things that had initially endeared her to him. That unwavering ability of hers to try and search for the good in a situation and genuinely believe in it, while he was stuck halfheartedly attempting to fool himself into a way of thinking he could never fully commit to. It’s one of the many things he loved so much about her. 

Perhaps a part of him resented it too. The same way he resented Vipsania for talking about tests and assignments and career paths in front of someone whose future had been erased by the same people that gave her those opportunities in the first place. She could actually choose what field she wanted to work in, and she’d make buckets full of money while doing not even half the work the poor people in the districts did. Her dreams were limited to simple things like a dream house and possible family. Why would she fantasize about anything else when she already had it all? Just because she’d been born in the right place. To her, those career goals were just that: Goals . Because to her, they weren’t so far fetched. 

The ability to dream was created by a lack of what one wanted. The ability to actually believe in those dreams came from privilege. 

Treech had never been well off enough to trust in something like karma, let alone the vague notion of a better world. But Lamina wasn’t rich , she was just less dirt-poor, so he could never hold her optimism against her. His jealousy over her determined positivity, that drive to find the way towards her goals, would not taint how he viewed her. Lamina deserved better than that. Besides, he could never hate her. No matter what she did, his heart was hers whether he wanted it to be or not. 

As he ran his fingers through fiery locks, a part of him understood that these strong, almost maddening feelings of his weren’t entirely natural. That if they’d been back home, he wouldn’t be so… extremely attached to her. If he hadn’t thrown away his best chance at surviving this Hell for her, if there were more options than dying or living the rest of his life knowing she’d died for him, he wouldn’t be so determined to be the one to die. Treech wasn’t sure whether he’d be able to just let her go, but maybe it would be less earth shattering. Less ‘worse than death’ and more ‘this will suck for a while, give it some time’. 

But they weren’t back home. They were stuck on a structure of three massive ceiling beams with a corpse beneath them and a withered flower of a little girl between the rubble not far away, and he was so extremely attached to his Lamina. So much so that he was ready to throw everything away just to keep her flame alight. It had gotten to a point where he was willfully making things harder on himself by bonding with other tributes under the assumption that he wouldn’t have long to deal with the pain of losing them. Perhaps even with the expectation that he wouldn’t even see them die because he’d go before them. He was making stupid decisions because he was a goner anyway, so what did it matter? 

Vipsania was probably ripping her hair out over his recklessness, but he couldn’t care less. She’d never understand, not until it was too late for him, and he was fine with that. Maybe one day she’d recognize the guilt he tried to push away as he let himself fall back into the delusion that he was doing Lamina a favor by dying. Perhaps she’d see that he’d caused himself pain not out of stupidity, but out of hope they’d bring someone else a small speck of light in this all-consuming darkness. Or maybe she wouldn’t. It didn’t change anything in the long run. 

His decision remained the same, because he had his girl in his arms and a colorful spectacle above him to remind him that there were things beyond the horrors of a boy begging for death, a girl coughing blood, and a friend he’d never get to know properly. Maybe Treech would never see them himself, but he could give a taste of them to the others and, hopefully, he could make sure his Lamina would get to see them. 

Some things were worth fighting for, no matter how much it hurt. 

Chapter Text

Occasionally, for just a second, she wished she could hate him. 

She wished his hesitation at choosing her over the pack would’ve meant something to her, would’ve somehow lessened these stupid feelings that had her choking with fear every time he wasn’t in her field of vision. Somewhere, deep down, she resented the fact that she couldn’t resent him . 

A bigger part of her understood that she’d die the day he left her. The second he turned his back, she’d lose it entirely. What else could she do when he was the only thing she had? She hated it, fuck did she hate it, but she couldn’t help it. Because he had picked her over the pack, and that meant so much more to her than any betrayal ever could have. Especially when, if it was her who’d been offered that choice, Lamina wasn’t sure she would’ve turned it down too. 

The last thing she ever wanted to do was hurt him, but they were in the Hunger Games . If Treech had left her like he should have, she would have been hurt. Too hurt to really accept his side no matter how rational it was, but he hadn’t . All that left her with was all the ways in which he’d cared enough about her to ruin his own chances at survival. He’d let the target be painted on his own back just to stay with her for a little longer, when realistically she’d have to die no matter what he did. 

Oh, he’d been so stupid! Throwing everything away for a dead girl walking like that. Lamina sighed, pressing her boy just the slightest bit closer to her. Despite his hum of confusion, his grip on her tightened as well. Always so ready to comfort someone in need, even when he didn’t understand what was happening. If only he’d stayed home, safe and sound, waiting for her return. She’d have something to fight for, something to look forward to coming back to. But no, the universe couldn’t be that kind. All she had was her grandfather, the only person in her family to actually care for her unconditionally. Well, she had her friends too, of course, but they were waiting for Treech too. Lamina’s return wouldn’t bring them joy, just the pain of yet another loss. 

A pain that couldn’t be described by words is all she’d bring them. If Lamina came home, she’d be nothing but a reminder of what had been ripped away from them. As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t fault them for it. If Treech was the one whose grave had to be dug, she wouldn’t be able to look whatever poor girl came back in the face either. It would hurt too much, knowing at what cost she’d come back. Lamina couldn’t survive these games, because how would she ever be able to look in the mirror without seeing everything Treech had that she didn’t? 

His ghost would be everywhere, because he was everywhere. The worst part about it was that Lamina had only started seeing it when she’d been forced to imagine a life without him, only to realize she couldn’t . Just thinking about it made tears well up in her eyes, the same way they had when she’d woken up on the beam without him. She was glad they had two axes now, but she wished he’d let her go get the second one. Maybe it wouldn’t have been perfect for him, but he wouldn’t have had to put himself in danger the way he had. What if he’d run into the pack?

Correction: What if he’d run into the rest of the pack? 

Because of course Treech, kind, caring, stupid Treech had decided to stay with Dill as the girl had laid dying, and of course that’s when a member of the pack had shown himself! Treech hadn’t given much detail as to what had happened between him and Tanner, but Lamina couldn’t care less if she was honest. They shouldn’t have been close enough to talk without her there to protect him! 

She took a deep breath, calming herself before she got visibly upset. No need to worry her light any more than he already was given their general circumstances. Everything was fine because Treech was with her, as safe as he could be and physically unharmed. Emotionally was a different matter entirely, because he’d just sat next to a young girl and helplessly watched her die , but well… That was inevitable, wasn’t it? Not much to be done about that now. Besides, Lamina understood. Of course she did! Not even 24 hours ago she’d decapitated Marcus for crying out loud! 

But it was for the greater good. Marcus had been suffering, just like Dill, and only one person could make it out anyway. It wasn’t- It didn’t make it okay , but it was what it was. It was for the greater good. Getting Treech home was the best good Lamina could imagine having in a place like this. Besides, they couldn’t exactly go back in time and change things. Lamina couldn’t stop Marcus from trying to run, and Treech couldn’t steal medicine for Dill from some peacekeeper warehouse or fish her name out of the reaping bowl in District 11 without anyone noticing. It hurt in a way she’d never thought anything could, the sheer powerlessness ate at her like extreme starvation, except there was nothing that could alleviate it this time. 

The deaths never stopped hurting, even though Lamina hadn’t known the other tributes well. She’d known enough to know they’d deserved better. Undoubtedly, Treech felt the same, only differing in the way he reacted to that. It was instinct for him to comfort someone who was hurting, the same way it was instinct for Lamina to end that suffering. He made things hurt less, she fought the problem head-on. It’s how they’d always worked as a team, and even all of this couldn’t change that. To her, nothing was a bigger show of their strength than that. No matter what the Capitol threw at them, they were still the same people at their core. 

All she could hope was that these horrors wouldn’t change the outer Treech too much either. He wouldn’t break, he was far too resilient for that, but even the thought of him bending tore her heart to shreds. He was perfect the way he was, and though she’d love him no matter what… It would kill her inside to see him suffer like that. Especially when she knew there was nothing she could do to stop it from happening. All she could do was lessen the impact it had on him, and even then her reach was limited. 

Frowning, she turned her head to the side, only to see the girl from 5 trying to climb the bleachers. Was she trying to get to a safer spot? Lamina tilted her head, wondering if any part of this arena could be called even remotely ‘safe’. It was on the verge of collapse to the point where it was honestly a miracle that this much of the structure was still standing. She made sure not to think that too loudly, just in case the universe decided to take that as a challenge. Then she saw them. 

“Mina?”

“Treech. Close your eyes.”

Three imposing figures, approaching Sol like wolves slowly surrounding their prey. Predators on the hunt. A set target for a shared goal. Looks like they’d changed their timeline around now that Lamina and Treech were better equipped to defend their position. Except what if they were just doing this out of convenience and they were still the pack’s main target? The pack, who were quickly gaining ground on Sol and were effectively cornering her. Who were like a well-oiled machine despite only two of them actually knowing each other.  

Who had an advantage in numbers and was made up of three undeniably dangerous tributes. Even Mizzen, who was so young, should not be underestimated. Lamina had seen him use the net and trident during the interviews, she knew he was very capable indeed. And he had Coral, who would burn the entire country down just to protect him. Just like Lamina herself would for Treech. Like Sejanus wanted to do for Marcus. Like Reaper would have for Dill had her body not given out. It drove Coral forward, but it could distract her too. A blessing and a curse. 

Lamina really didn’t wanna gamble with such an unpredictable thing. 

For the first time, Lamina truly saw what Treech had given up for her. A chance to be a part of that, to be as protected as Tanner was. To have that sheer intimidation factor on his side, all those extra sponsors he now had to work for because Lamina wasn’t enough for those stuck up Capitol people. He’d thrown it all away for someone like her . The pack had fully surrounded Sol now, though the poor girl was desperately looking for some kind of escape route. Lamina could already see there was none. No matter where she’d run, Sol would be met with a blade. 

She’d have to dodge past them or fight, and neither of those options had great odds for her. No amount of strategy or technique would get someone out of the literal corner Sol had accidentally allowed herself to be chased into. The pack stood surrounding her, unmoving. Waiting for her to make the first move. It wouldn’t matter either way. Lamina could see, even from this distance, how this would end. That could’ve been Treech. That could have been her if her boy had made the smart decision. 

It could’ve been her frantically dodging swings, it could have been her knees hitting the ground, her eyes looking up into Coral’s. Or worse even, Treech’s gorgeous, warm brown eyes as they frosted over with determination. It could have been her last chance to seek out those hints of green and gold that she loved so much as an ax was raised high instead of a trident. It could have been her last moments and her terrified scream as-

Lamina squeezed her eyes shut, unwilling to watch the blood drip off that golden metal or onto the floor. It had been hard enough when the person whose blood was spilt had asked for that mercy. This was… A step further. One she’d have to take eventually. It would’ve been so easy to demonize the three for what they were doing, but she wouldn’t. She wouldn’t let the Capitol poison her against them like that. Not when she knew they were all in the exact same situation here. 

They’d all have to do gruesome things for that chance to go home. There was no choice here, just a painful reality, and as much as it hurt… She had to swallow that truth. To get Treech home. It was all to get Treech home, that’s why she was doing this and she just had to keep that in mind. The pack was doing the gory work none of the others had the guts to do. They wanted to go home just like everyone else, they just had enough guts to take the active approach. Instead of being afraid, they’d made themselves the thing everybody else was afraid of. 

It was a harsh approach, a cold approach, but someone had to do it. Someone had to kill their fellow tributes for one of them to go home. When the only other alternative was starving to death or having the peacekeepers shooting them all to bits… Selfish though it may be, Lamina was glad someone else was willing to do the dirty work. The more tributes died, the closer Lamina was to getting Treech out of here, and the less work she had to do for it, the more capable she’d be of fighting when the time came. 

However, while she understood, and part of her was even grateful for it, Lamina couldn’t help but hate the pack. Because they wouldn’t extend that understanding to Treech. They were hunting him down instead. Hunting him down for turning the offer down as if they’d somehow been entitled to his allegiance over her , the person he’d been close friends with for over a decade now! It could barely even be considered a slight, and yet … 

“Mina!” Treech yelped. 

Gasping, she let up her grip on him, doing her best to relax her muscles a little so he could wiggle around a little in her hold. Not enough to truly get out, though she’d let him go if he truly wanted her to, but enough to get a little more comfortable. Those lovely, enchantingly warm eyes were filled with concern as they looked up at her. How he managed to be so expressive with just his face would forever be a mystery to Lamina. 

“Sorry…” She mumbled, making sure her body was mostly blocking his view of the pack. 

“Is something wrong?” He asked. When she didn’t answer, he raised his hand  to caress her cheek, coaxing her to look him in the eye. “You can tell me, you know that right?” 

“I do! I just… It’s nothing.” 

Treech raised an unimpressed eyebrow at her before shifting to the side, trying to look past her. In a flare of panic she moved with him, desperate to shield him from what she herself was too afraid to look at. For a moment, their eyes locked. Lamina watched several emotions pass over his face, seeming to pull him in far too many different directions to settle on one. A softness contrasting directly with the sharp, cutting edges of what Lamina would almost call frustration. 

It nearly made her flinch back. Was he mad at her ? Had she done something to upset him? What if he decided to leave her anyway and ducked back into the tunnels, all alone with a pack hunting after him and no one to watch his back when he slept. Would his last memory with her be a negative one? What if someone caught him by surprise and he spent his last days alone?! No, no, he’d live. He’d be perfectly fine on his own, but what if-

“I appreciate your worry for me, truly I do.” He said, face smoothing over the way it always did when he was scared people would misinterpret his emotions. Or when he didn’t want them to know how he truly felt. “But I’m not an innocent baby to be shielded from the world.”

“I know that!” She defended herself hastily. “But this was just…” 

Soft hands took hold of hers, squeezing gently. When she looked up, Lamina found her sunlight smiling at her sadly. Like there were a million things he needed to say, but none of his words felt right to him, and she couldn’t believe that mere minutes ago she’d wished to hate him. How could she ever? He was so much more than the best thing she could imagine having the fortune to get, yet somehow believed he was holding her back when he was the very thing that gave her the strength to keep going in her darkest moments. 

Like he wasn’t the only thing keeping her going right now.

“Mimi,” he sighed, “I’ve seen death, remember? I heard the scream, I know what happened.” 

“But it’s-” 

“We’ll have to face it eventually, right?” When she nodded hesitantly, his eyes softened. “I’m thankful you care for me, but you can’t protect me from everything.”

“I’m sorry…” 

“Don’t be.” He reached forward, hugging her.

She saw the look of horrified shock when his eyes landed on what was behind her, but then her face was buried in curly brown hair and his hand was rubbing circles into her back, and she couldn’t help but let the tears fall. As much as she knew she had to stay vigilant, she couldn’t help but feel safe in treech’s arms. He was right, he wasn’t a helpless baby. She knew that. She knew he could hold his own, but… She didn’t want him to have to. 

Treech shouldn’t have to hold his own, or handle seeing the things they were forced to see in the arena. That didn’t change the fact that he did , though, so who was she even kidding? As long as it didn’t change her intended outcome, it didn’t matter how many of these deaths they would or wouldn’t see. Her boy would find a way to move past it, he always found a way. No matter the hardship, he’d always been able to get through it and come out on the other end a stronger person. Hypothermia, starvation, poverty, illness, peacekeepers, none of it had kept him down. Even without medical care he’d healed from viruses that should have killed him. No amount of punishment had stopped him from perfecting his thieving skills to the point where he didn’t get caught anymore. Nothing could beat him down and keep him down, this would be no different. He’d be fine. Treech would be fine. 

“I’m here. You’re gonna be okay Lami.” 

She couldn’t smile, but she knew he’d take her tight grip on him as the sign of gratitude that it was. They stayed like that for a while. Long enough for the pack to be gone once more and for Sol’s blood to dry where it had splattered on the floor. Long enough for the sun to move most of the way through the sky. Not for the first time was she thankful she wasn’t alone. If she had been, she probably would’ve lost her mind already. They’d only moved for Treech to take off his vest and offer it to her, refusing to take no for an answer. 

“Against the sun!” He grinned at her. “You’ll get sunburnt otherwise.”

“So will you.” Lamina huffed.

“I’m used to it from the rare sweltering days in the lumber yards, you’re not. Take it, I’ll manage.” He insisted. 

“You’re taking it back tomorrow!” 

“Of course, of course.” 

Something told her he’d ‘mysteriously’ forget about that when she asked tomorrow, but she’d make sure he took it back. This wasn’t her first rodeo dealing with his antics, not at all. Lamina liked to think that, no matter how hard he tried, Treech would never be able to truly fool her. Not for a long time, at least. Maybe briefly, for just a moment, but she’d catch on. She always had and she would until she died. 

There they sat, on top of their beam, so high above the rest of the arena. Unaffected by whatever may be happening in the tunnels. Entirely unaware of who was still alive. How many had died already in these tunnels without the two of them noticing? For all they knew it was just them and the pack left. As soon as the thought entered her mind, she banished it again. Nope, not going there. No way. She’d upset Treech enough with her stupid overthinking and worrying, she wasn’t doing it again so soon. Instead, she focused on her boy. On the humming of his honey-sweet voice. 

It was a slow, repetitive tune. Some kind of song with repeating lyrics that was easy to remember and easy to sing along to even if you’d never heard it before. The rhythm wasn’t one she recognized, so it must either be a very old one, or a brand new one. Soft notes wrapped her in a comforting blanket in winter, keeping everything bad outside for just a moment so she could relax. It kept her detached from the worries and suffering of everyday life for as long as she could hear it, helping her float away just long enough to dream about a better world before she was thrown back down to reality. 

How did Treech always manage to be her heaven? How come she’d found her escape and reprieve in someone she was fated to lose so soon? Why couldn’t she have been reaped with a total stranger? Now all she could do was sink into the familiar comfort and forget how they would end. Taking that one moment to imagine what they could have been felt forbidden, a dangerous thing to fantasize about lest she forget what she had to do, but she couldn’t help it.

“ Are you, are you,” Treech began to sing, melodious notes floating through the air and brightening up the world like a tree of life sprouting from the earth. “ Climbing up the beams?

A sick, little girl, laid dying on debris”

Her gaze moved over to Dill’s prone form in the distance. From here, it almost looked like she was sleeping. Lamina wished they’d had something to gift her. Flowers or a figurine or something, but there was nothing in this arena. Just dust and cracked, collapsed stone. Nothing worthy enough for that precious little girl. They were forced to leave her there, with only Treech’s rich, comforting voice to lead her into whatever came after life. 

“ Strange things did happen here

No stranger would it be”

That was one way to put it. Just sorting through her head was hard enough, she hadn’t even had proper time to figure out what the status of the rest of the arena was. Maybe they wouldn’t know until the end who was or wasn’t alive. Maybe she wouldn’t even make it that far. She’d made it further than Dill, which was heartbreaking enough to stop any further considerations. Dill should have made it further. All these other kids who had years longer in the world than her still had a chance, but hers had been taken away already. 

“If we met up at midnight

Right up on the beams”

Treech went back to humming, like he was still figuring out the lyrics of his song. Maybe the melody was older, or maybe it was as new as the words he sang. It didn’t matter. Never before had Lamina heard something so beautiful, yet so utterly soul-destroying before. Whether it was the sight of Dill’s body or the shaky, tear-filled way in which he sang the words that were breaking her inside, but it was . 

“Are you, are you

Climbing up the beams?

Where blood coats the stone

Now haunted with her screams”

There was just something so… Dreamy about the idea of climbing up to meet someone, juxtaposed with the imagery of the two deaths they’d witnessed so far. That’s exactly what the Games as a whole felt like. Entertainment for everyone who didn’t have anything on the line, an utter nightmare for those who did. An utter nightmare for them . A haunting, torturous horror of an experience. 

An experience that made Lamina thankful the color of dried blood faded in with the dark browns and beiges of the arena when it was day. She was grateful she didn’t have to see the blood of a human being that had been alive just a couple of hours ago. That last scream would haunt her until the day she died, she was sure, and it almost made her happy about that day being close. As much as she didn’t want to die, Lamina was glad it meant she wouldn’t have to hear that scream bouncing around in her skull anymore. 

“ strange things did happen here

No stranger would it be

If we met up at midnight

Right up on the beams”

That imagery reminded her of back home, when her and Treech would meet up at night in the forest, up in their favorite, special tree. They’d spent countless hours there, talking and laughing and relaxing and sleeping and just existing with each other. It was their tree. Now they’d never see it again. Would Treech visit it after her death? or would he avoid it like the plague? Unwilling to face something he’d shared with her that had become his alone? 

As Treech went back to humming, Lamina thought back to Pup, who’d seemed so determined to get her out. Her mentor would be heartbroken if she died, but… She couldn’t face that tree without Treech. She couldn’t face home without his sweet voice and sweeter soul, the best constant in her life gone forever. Hopefully he wouldn’t hate Treech, if only because he knew it’s what she wanted him to do. 

Oh how much easier this would have been if she’d been reaped with a stranger. She’d always thought meeting Treech had been the greatest fortune she’d ever received, but now it just seemed like a curse. So lucky to meet him, yet forced to lose him so early. It wasn’t fair, and it sure as anything didn’t sound very fortuitous anymore. Things would have been better if she hadn’t met him before, or even if she’d grown to hate him. But she couldn’t . Even if she tried, there was no way. 

Because she didn’t want to hate him. Treech was just so easy to love, so easy to adore. How much emotional energy was required to dislike him was beyond her comprehension! And against her better judgment, despite knowing that it was about to get her killed, Lamina couldn’t help but thank her lucky stars she’d gotten to meet him. That she’d gotten to know him and had gotten to fall in love with him over the course of years, even if it meant getting reaped with the one who gave her entire world color. 

After all, while things may have been easier had he been a stranger, at least she’d gotten a taste of that color. She’d experienced true happiness with him as he showed her a world she’d never even dreamed of before him. He’d shown her what was beyond her family’s closed-minded little box and introduced her to the true beauty of life without even realizing he’d done just that. Of course she’d fallen for him. He was just so… him . So completely, unapologetically Treech . 

Every day she got to know him better, she’d fallen deeper, and looking back on it Lamina couldn’t believe she’d only realized it during the interviews. Too late to do anything but accept her fate and give him the chance at a life he deserved. Lamina had gotten a taste of what truly living felt like, she’d finally learned the meaning of unconditional love. Treech had shown her what happiness truly felt like, but it ended up coming at the cost of her life. 

It truly was the best kind of bad luck

Chapter Text

Are you, are you

Coming to the tree?

Back home, Treech had once found a gorgeous tree, large and lush and high enough that he could bathe in the sun if he climbed all the way to the top. In the winter, it always felt just a little warmer up there, although that might just be him being sentimental. It had become his spot. His quiet little place to just be when the streets were too noisy even from the rooftops. 

It’s where he went when he wanted to be alone. When home was too suffocating. When Murai and Silvy were just too loud for him to handle and dad’s concern was too much to deal with. When everything he saw reminded him of the millions of worries he had to take care of. The Capitol didn’t allow them to have much, but he had this. They couldn’t take this away from him. Not if they didn’t know he even had this in the first place. And they wouldn’t ever find out, because no one would ever catch him after dark. 

Here I find my tune

Go call me absentee

Only one other person knew about it, and that person was right next to him. She always knew where to find him, and he let her. He didn’t mind being found if it was her. Somehow, she just never became too much for him. Maybe it’s just that they both knew each other enough to not get in each other’s hairs, or maybe their personalities fit together exceptionally well. Whatever the case, she’d never gotten on his nerves before. Well… Not until now. 

He loved her, truly he did. Everything about her from her cold intelligence to her emotional nature, from her twinkling eyes to her dirtied, dry hair, from her gorgeous laugh to her blazing fury, he loved her to bits. Every part of her just made him fall deeper into that twisting, fluttery feeling in his chest dancing along the blurry divide between happy nerves and anxiety. And maybe that’s why he was now toeing the line between worry and annoyance. Lamina… wasn’t doing well, and he couldn’t help but feel it was his fault. 

Strange things did happen here

No stranger would it be

Just as he’d feared, he was dragging her down. The exact opposite of what he was trying to achieve here! Just not in the way he’d thought he might. So far, they’d been… relatively safe. As safe as one could be during the games. Perhaps that’s exactly why Lamina was more and more on edge every hour. The longer things went well, the more crucial it was to be ready for when they inevitably went downhill. And they would . 

But why was Lamina focusing on him when they both knew he stood no chance? Sure, he could wield an axe, but strength had never been his strong suit. That was Lamina’s strong suit, and he wasn’t even technically advanced enough to make up for it! If he threw his axe, he’d probably miss by a mile, which kept him caged to close combat. Something he was decidedly bad at, if he said so himself. Treech had to find a way to get her to let him go, because she’d have to. At some point, she’d have to. 

If we met at midnight

In our favorite tree

He could handle watching death. Probably. Every corpse he’d seen before felt different to this, more distant, more detached, but he could handle that step. Long enough to get Lamina out of here, at least, so why was she so worried about his mental state? Why was she so scared he’d break when he was about to die anyway? Besides, it wasn’t his first time seeing death. Did she forget he lived in the Fringe? 

Not that he was mad at her, not at all! In fact, he felt a little charmed that she was so concerned for him despite their circumstances. Didn’t stop the frustration though. He wasn’t made out of sugar, he could handle seeing these horrors, at least for a little while. As long as he could stand them for long enough to get her out of here, he was fine with it. Of course, he understood her worry. He was worried for her too! Still, though, it felt weird for her to treat him like a helpless child whose innocence she had to protect.

Are you, are you

Coming to the tree

While he may be a child, and not nearly as strong and capable as her, but Treech wasn’t helpless by any means. He hadn’t survived 15 years in the Fringe by luck . He hadn’t survived war and starvation and brutal winters by accident or chance, he’d fought for it. If only so his family could have just one less worry on their minds. So he’d fight now. He was here to help Lamina, not to be another thing for her to concern herself with. Finding out that he might’ve just become that anyway was a little annoying. If he was entirely honest with himself, it was a little insulting too. 

But he pushed that last thought aside, because he knew his lovely friend didn’t mean it that way. No, he knew she was just scared for the both of them. For what they could become as these horrors seeped into their hearts like poison. If they weren’t careful, they could fall into the trap of believing each other to be the enemy. It would be so, so easy. Maybe a smart person would let themself fall for it and make everything easier, but well… Treech had never liked things easy. 

My spark comes alive

With you right here with me

No, he loved making things more difficult for himself. By giving his own dinner away when he hadn’t eaten for three days just to make someone else happy, by acting in the theater instead of taking a less physically taxing third job, by stealing from the peacekeepers who deserved it instead of the ones who made it easy… By staying with Lamina… By admitting to himself that he loved her as they were marched into this mess and by realizing he loved her so much he’d rather die than be without her. No, Treech would never choose easy. Not if it meant losing what meant the most to him. He’d rather be in pain than be empty. 

And he knew no matter how bad things got, at least he’d never be empty as long as Lamina was here. With her next to him, he felt alive. Capable of taking the entire world, ready to fight whatever deity felt the need to challenge him just to stay with her. Of course, he couldn’t stay with her for long, but he was here now . Maybe it was selfish and wrong of him to cling so closely to her when he knew it wouldn’t last, but that was nothing new. Treech was selfish. If these were his last days, he wanted to spend them with the one who meant the most to him. His sun, his light, his reason to breathe, the reason his heart kept beating through these dark nights. His Lamina . The fire that kept him warm through that fateful winter night and kept coming back every year after. If wanting to be with her for just a second longer was selfish, he’d wear the insult like a badge of honor. 

Strange things did happen here

No stranger would it be

Part of him regretted not cherishing their tree as much as he should have despite all the time they spent there, but he didn't know what he would've done different if he could go back. It didn't matter in the end, since he couldn't go back, but it was nice to imagine a different world. One where he'd been brave enough to admit how he felt before it was too late. Maybe there was a world in which they got to grow old together, and it may not be this one but Treech could dream. He could face this if he could keep his dreams. That was the one part of him no one could take away. The only thing except his love, of course. 

His love for home, his lust for life, his adoration for everything about Lamina, nothing would destroy that. It was almost funny how such a positive thing was what left him doomed no matter what he did. The choice wasn't a hard one though. He’d made it the second he came to terms with the fact he’d have to, perhaps even before that. As much as he hated it, Treech knew there was no other possibility. No matter how much he hated the thought of dying, his love for Lamina would always be stronger than his need to live. 

If we met up at midnight

In the hanging tree

There had never been any contest as to what he’d do, he’d simply had to learn to live with the fact that he’d never find his perfect moment to confess to her. They didn’t live in an epic or a romantic play, that possibility was long gone. Or maybe they’d never truly been a romance. Maybe they’d always been doomed. Her family never would’ve accepted her dating someone from the Fringe, he knew they’d only barely tolerated his presence every time Lamina brought him over, and only ever for the sake of not upsetting her. 

Perhaps, in a way, they’d always been like Romeo and Juliet. They were never meant to overcome the odds with the power of their love, especially given the fact that Lamina probably didn’t even return his feelings. Why would she? Treech was just… Treech . But that didn’t make him love her any less. She was no Juliet, she wouldn’t die for him, but he was still her Romeo. For her, he would gladly lay down his life. Anything to make her the hero of this story. If this was what it took for Lamina to be the main character of this epic, Treech would gladly become the protagonist of his own tragedy. 

Are you, are you

Coming to the tree

His story would be one of unrequited love, of sacrifice and of a battle he was always going to lose, and it would be forgotten . Treech would be forgotten. The world would keep spinning without him in it until soon enough he was nothing but one of a million names on a thousand gravestones. Just eleven little letters carved into a stone, laid above a pile of mixed ashes buried deep in the dirt. Treech Meran . What would they even have to say about him? Nothing about him was remarkable. Not in the way Lamina was, extraordinary and memorable as she was. 

Perhaps, one day, people would read a poem of his, a song or a play, but they likely wouldn’t remember the boy who wrote it. They would know the soul he poured into his writing, but they’d never know who it belonged to. That person would be long gone. His theater group would go on without him until his existence faded from their memory, his family would move on, his friends would just be glad to have Lamina back. One day, he would disappear. And he didn’t mind, because his love would be safe. She would be okay, so it would all be worth it. Besides, wasn’t the best art made of suffering? Were the greatest artists not made of their own tragedies? 

Go ‘head, take my heart

Long as you stay with m- Wait…

What little he’d managed to gather about ancient artists from stolen books and stories passed down generations in the dead of night showed the greatest beauty came from the harshest pains. Lucy Gray had lost almost her entire people, with nothing but her band, her dress and their names to continue their legacy. While he hadn’t lost nearly as much as her, things had never been easy for him. Maybe that’s why he hated it when they were. It was unfamiliar and strange. He’d lost friends, he’d lost his mom , and now he was about to lose his life. All for a love he knew would never be returned. 

If Lucy Gray’s art was made with the pain of having to live on, Treech’s art was made with the pain of chasing something he knew he’d never have. Always running away from the horrors towards a fantasy that could never be real. Running, running, running further despite knowing there was no destination to reach. Away from the peacekeepers, away from the truth, away from all the things he knew he’d have to confront. Never creating distance and never gaining ground, just moving forward because he didn’t know where else to go. He didn’t know what to do but turn it all into pretty words and fancy wood carvings in the hopes someone else may find some meaning in it all. A meaning he’d never know, because to him it was simple. It was all the things he wanted to lose but could never let go. 

I already used 'me'…

What else rhymes with tree?

It was his mom, the way he could never quite get himself to stop missing her. It was the hunger that had become the background radiation of his life, the cold that returned every winter to settle back into his bones and beg him to stop fighting the call of eternal sleep. It was the tens of figurines he’d made from tiny scraps of wood he’d stolen over the years, representing the loved ones who’d died to the Capitol’s cruelty. It was the phantom pains of the whip against his back the rare few times he got caught. 

It was Lamina. The way he could never stop loving her despite knowing it was hopeless. This stupid floaty feeling and the way his heart started to race each time she smiled at him, combined with the knowledge she’d never choose someone like him. Worst of all, the understanding that she shouldn’t , because she deserved far more than anything he could ever give her. Art was the expression of everything he wanted, and Lamina was the embodiment of everything he’d never have. 

You can’t steal my heart…

I’d… gift it? Sounds about right

It’s the good things in life that hurt the most, because nothing stung quite like losing something precious. Perhaps, in a way, that made the games just slightly better. He was just a friend to Lamina, and a replaceable one at that. Just another face in the crowd. She’d grieve, but she wasn’t losing anything particularly important. The sun was unique, gifting life with its warm rays and lighting the way everywhere it went. Lamina was his sun, the reason he was still alive. The one who’d kept him warm through the cruelest winter he’d ever had the misfortune to experience. She was unique, lovely, and important. 

Treech, though? He was just the moon. A floating rock in the sky existing solely to reflect the light of the sun. A mirror for the sake of others, never for itself. He helped others appreciate Lamina’s beauty, he was visible only because of her , but on his own? What even was he on his own? A lonely piece of rubble floating aimlessly through the sky, with neither purpose nor goal. Pretty to look at, but only through the light of the sun. Life could go on without the moon. The same couldn’t be said for the sun. It’s as simple as that. 

Oh! You can’t steal my heart,

When I’d gift it for free

“What’re you thinking?” 

Her sweet voice soothed away any and all worries on his mind in an instant. It calmed him down just as much as it made his heart race. Such a strange sensation, one he craved above anything else. Like an addiction. The best, most wonderful addiction known to mankind. One with only acceptance as a cure, for there was no fighting this feeling. There was no defeating love, only leaning into it or growing out of it. Either way, you had to let it happen and hope you came out alright. 

Treech wouldn’t come out at all, and that was okay. He’d let the tides of time take him further and further away from the shore and swallow him in a whirlpool of pain and poetry and unrequited love if it would help his angel fly. All he wanted in return was to hear her voice, to see her smile one more time. All he asked for was to see her gorgeous eyes twinkle in delight so he could appreciate her properly now that he finally understood the hell life had turned into without those things. Just once wouldn’t be enough, he could never have enough of Lamina, but it would do. 

“Nothing, Lams, just…”

“The song you made up earlier?” 

“Yeah, how’d you know?” 

She smirked at him, a shadow obscuring the light in her eyes just a little. The dark storm clouds of their situations hung heavy over them both. This peace, this relative safety in their perk… It was all a mirage. The eye of the storm. At some point, they’d have to face the cruel winds of fate and hope there would be any shred left of them once they reached the outside world again. When the horrors truly hit them, when they were no longer safe above it all, it would be Treech who fell. If nothing else, he’d make sure he was the one to be taken. 

They would be torn apart one day. In the end they would be ripped to pieces, and with every minute that end crawled closer. How much longer did they have? How many tributes had died without them knowing? Pressing his cheek to her shoulder from behind, he wrapped his arms around her and let himself breathe in her presence. How he longed to be close to her, to have her hold him the same way he held her, not as a friend but as a lover . If he’d had the guts to tell her, maybe he could’ve had that, but no . That was too far. That would’ve meant letting Lamina lose her lover instead of just one friend of many. That might’ve destroyed even her strong heart. 

“You always make that face when you’re struggling with a lyric.” She smiled at him over her shoulder, beautiful hazel eyes warming him up to his very soul. 

“A… Face?”

“Yeah!” She giggled, “You tilt your head a little with this super concentrated, thoughtful look on your face like you’re solving the mysteries of the universe or something.” 

“Well what if I am?” 

She leaned back against him, turning her head to stare out at the sky above them, remaining silent for a few moments. Her hand reached for his own where it rested against her side, his arm wrapped around her in a side hug. Long, fiery locks fell like the prettiest red waterfall as Lamina pressed her face further into his shoulder. It made him want to sing the world’s sappiest love song and learn to fly just so he could show her the view from up in the clouds she’d always said she wanted to see, but he wouldn’t. He was no angel. He had no wings to fly with, nor did he have the heart to break hers by serenading a girl he was planning to leave behind. Only the fortunate got those kinds of cliche love stories, and he wasn’t one of them. Luck had never been on his side. 

“I’d want you to tell me all your theories, from the most groundbreaking one in human history to the most illogical, impossible ideas you’ve ever had.” 

“I thought you didn’t like hearing nonsense?” 

That’s just the way life went sometimes, he supposed. Wanting something wouldn’t make it happen, no matter how deep the desire went. It was best to focus on trying to make Lamina’s wish of going home come true, because unlike him she didn’t want mutually exclusive things in life. She could go home without losing her mind in the process. The best Treech could do was hope she wouldn’t feel too guilty about his death, that he’d get a chance to tell her this is what he wanted before he left her. 

It wouldn’t stop her from being torn, of course, she was too sweet for that, but she’d survive. His beautiful sun was resilient, a fighter through and through. He had no doubt she’d be able to fight her way through this as well and come out on top in the end. In the end, she’d walk out of this arena with her head held as high as always and laugh in the Capitol’s face for thinking they could get rid of her that easily. Treech knew she could do it. She had the strength, she just needed to believe in herself. 

“Nothing you say could ever be nonsense to me, Treech.” She smiled that sweet smile of hers that made his heart beat faster every time he thought about it. “I’ll listen to anything if it means I get to hear your voice.”

A soft smile spread over his face at her words, affection glowing so brightly in his chest he felt like he might suffocate. And he wouldn’t even mind! She could do anything to him and he’d love her all the same. Honestly, Treech wasn’t sure he could ever hate her, even if she stabbed him in the back and laughed at him while he bled out, he didn’t think he could find it in himself to blame her. If he’d felt that way about anyone else, it might’ve terrified him, but this was Lamina. His sunlight, his love, his breath at the bottom of the ocean. 

Besides, she wouldn’t hurt him intentionally, not unless she had to. Treech knew that. And if she had to… Who was he to judge her? He’d be hurt, but he wouldn’t hate. He loved her too much for that. After everything Lamina had done for him, it’s the least he could do to try and repay her endless kindness. Especially since he was selfish enough to even consider dropping his feelings on her when he knew he was going to die, just so he could have his closure before the end of his book came. 

“Didn’t know you liked my voice that much.” 

“Of course I love your voice!” Lamina said indignantly, “Who doesn’t ?” 

“Vipsania, probably.” He laughed lightly. 

“Well, she doesn’t get to have an opinion.” 

Her face scrunched up adorably. An angry glimmer in her eyes reminded him of the way she’d look at people back home who she believed wanted to harm the people she loved. It was the protective streak he loved so much about her, that drive to defend the things she held dear from anyone and anything. It scared him too, sometimes. Every day he worried she’d go too far and get herself hurt, but he knew she was smart enough to know her limits. All he could do was hope she wouldn’t let her love for people around her weigh more heavily than her self-preservation instincts. 

“She’s not even that bad.”

“Who’s not that bad?” 

Tensing up, Treech reached for the axe tied to his belt. Lamina untangled herself from him, head shooting off his shoulder so she could look at the person beneath them. He looked so small down there, yet no less imposing than he’d been up close. His pitchfork glinted in the sunlight, menacing and threatening despite the considerable distance. Dangerous, a presence you couldn’t ignore even if you wanted to. Perhaps the biggest problem to their continued survival aside from Coral’s little crew. Reaper . 

“My mentor, Vipsania.” Treech answered, voice tense. “She’s not as bad as Lami thinks.” 

“And Treechie here is a liar .” Lamina snipped.

“What did she do?” Reaper asked curiously. 

The older boy had always felt like a contradiction, but these past few days had solidified that belief in Treech. Cold and distant, yet endlessly kind and gentle to Dill in the zoo. They’d all known she wouldn’t make it, but he’d stayed with her until he couldn’t anymore. And now here he was, showing genuine curiosity for someone like they weren’t supposed to kill each other here. It made sense though, Treech supposed. They were all children here. Just kids pretending to be something they weren’t hoping their dice would roll high and the games would end with the odds in their favor. 

Perhaps he should shut this conversation down. Ask what Reaper wanted from them, threaten and bark until he left them alone. It would be safer, maybe, but it was also… Mean. It was mean, and maybe it was necessary in some way but it was mean . None of them deserved that, because none of them wanted to be here. It wasn’t Reaper’s fault that Treech was chosen with the girl who had his heart and was doomed to die. No, that wasn’t how this story would go. He’d use what little ink he had left in his pen to write a better set of final pages. Not anywhere near what they deserved, but… It was something, at least. 

“She didn’t feed me and she was rude. Nothing unexpected, really.” 

“Still shitty of her, though.”
“That’s what I’m saying!” 

They were all in the same boat here. Reaper wasn’t attacking them yet, so as long as they were prepared for that possibility… It wouldn’t hurt to just be , right? That’s what he and Lamina had been doing so far, save his moment with Dill and his conversation with Tanner. As long as they stayed where they were and Reaper stayed where he was, it would be fine. They could afford a moment to just forget what they were supposed to do. What they were being forced to do. 

“Besides, she did more than just that.”

“Are you talking about the one-on-ones?”

Her look said enough, and Treech really didn’t wanna bring that up. Not because it bothered him, necessarily, but because he knew he’d lose the argument instantly. Okay, yeah, fine, also because he didn’t like thinking about it, but still. At her unimpressed stare, he couldn’t help but pout. Lamina’s eyes moved from his own down to his lips for a second before shooting back up. 

“What happened?” When Lamina opened her mouth to answer, Treech interjected.  

“Please don’t.”

“Why not?” 

“You know she’s changed her stance…”

“Has she though? Has she really?” 

Well… Fuck. Vipsania had changed, Treech knew she had. On the other hand though… She hadn’t changed much , and he was pretty sure she’d mostly done it to improve her odds of winning. Those chocolates could be a moral boost, feeding him was just generally the smart decision because he’d start the games with more energy and strength, and being nicer to him… That could’ve just been an attempt at earning his trust. It didn’t work , but still. 

“She calmed down a lot, at least.” 

( “Ugh, why are all these questions about your district ?” Sickle complained in a disgusted tone. “How’s that gonna help me win this prize?” 

“I’m right here, you know?” 

She didn’t even look up at him, refusing to acknowledge his existence in any way. It’s like he hadn’t spoken at all. Like he was just some object not worth paying attention to. Sickle was acting like she was the only sentient, thinking person sat at this table. It’s as if she thought he couldn’t think for himself, she’d have to do the strategizing and he’d follow her commands like a dog or something. 

Which was probably accurate, he mused. She most likely did actually think that. It would be funny if it didn’t make him want to vomit up all the food he hadn’t eaten in the past two days. Glancing around uncomfortably, Treech tried to keep himself from tapping his foot too obviously as he ignored the urge to start moving around. Not much moving he could do what with him being chained to the table and all that.

“What about this could possibly be interesting to sponsors?” She groaned like a whining child before composing herself and finally addressing him. “Alright, boy, what useful skills do you have?” 

“Well hello to you too.” 

“Don’t get smart with me!”)

“You keep insisting she did…” Lamina grumbled. 

Glancing down at Reaper, Treech considered his options before slowly lowering his axe and securing it back to his belt before wrapping his arms around her waist. Instantly, hers were latched around his neck, though he knew her eyes were trained on Reaper. Almost like she was daring him to try anything. Always so observant, so ready to jump into action the second she had to, his love was strong and smart and perfect . Where would he be without her? 

Nowhere good, that was for sure. Treech couldn’t imagine a world darker than one without his light. The earth wouldn’t survive without the sun, the moon would disappear and be forgotten. He would be nothing, a husk at best if he was alive at all. Though the odds of that were low, because even if he survived whatever was strong enough to kill Lamina he’d probably follow after her pretty soon. He’d follow her through the fires of hell, down to the deepest, darkest depths of the ocean, even into the harshest, cruelest of storms. Going to death’s door for her wasn’t that extreme of a step to take, really.

“She gave me those chocolates…?”

“And how does that in any way make up for what she did to you? Especially when she kept insulting home!” 

( “At least I got a useful district…” 

The fact that this girl saw forced child labor only in terms of how useful it was to her own goals was telling, for sure . It really confirmed a lot of things about the Capitol for him. It disgusted him too how all the pain he’d endured was just another tool to this little brat, but if he thought about that too much he might make bad decisions. How was he supposed to make sure either him or Lami made it home if he got himself shot over some spoiled, self-absorbed asshole? 

“We’ll have to do something about your… Appearance , and your smell, but I’ll take that hit.” 

“You- You’re worried about my smell ?” 

“Of course, it’s disgusting !” 

Blinking slowly at the sheer audacity of this woman, Treech took a deep breath. All his convictions about staying polite to whoever he got stuck with were about an inch away from jumping out the window. Right into a wood-chipper so they could more easily be burned to ashes . It was fine, this was fine, she was just… Out of touch. Sickle was just out of touch. All her self-aggrandizing monologuing from the first 15 minutes of this “interview” were just her doing as she’d been taught to do by the Capitol. It wasn’t her fault. He had to stay calm. 

“I’m going to die .” 

“No you won’t!” She said indignantly. “I will not have you ruin my chance at winning the prize just to be a spiteful little beast!” 

Deep breaths. Deep breaths. He had to take deep breaths. No need to get worked up over this. She was just out of touch. Very stupid and out of touch, just like most Capitol bastards were. It wasn’t her fault that she was raised to be like this. She just didn’t understand the districts and how they were denied all the fancy food and clothing and education she took for granted. Treech needed to remain calm for just a little longer and then he could scream out his frustrations in the zoo by singing to the visitors. 

“This has nothing to do with spite, Sickle, the world doesn’t revolve around you alone.”)

“That’s just what the Capitol taught her about the districts. Harrington wasn’t much better.” 

“He didn’t get mad at me though!” 

“You weren’t mean to him. I insulted Vipsania to her face .” 

“She hit you!” 

Freezing, Treech’s mouth snapped shut with an audible click. Below them, Reaper gasped loudly, but he paid the boy no mind. Lamina’s eyes widened as she registered what she’d just said, face twisting with regret as she tried to babble out an apology, but he shushed her with a hand on her shoulder. It’s not like he minded Reaper, or any of the tributes, knowing about it. This wasn’t a big secret or anything, just a fact. 

“She what ?” Reaper hissed icily. 

“Don’t worry about it Lami,” he murmured in her ear before turning to Reaper. “Yeah, I couldn’t stand her assumptions and judgmental bullshit about 7 anymore and insulted her right back. So she slapped me.” He turned back to Lamina. “How do you know about that?” 

She looked away from him, nervously tugging at the sleeves of her blouse as she readjusted her grip on him to be more comfortable. Whether she was comforting herself or him, he couldn’t tell. From the corner of his eye, he could see a flash of rainbow colors emerging from the tunnels. Lucy Gray. She was running from something, but he wasn’t sure what. Squinting to try and see better, he could see Jessup running behind her. Were they being chased by something? 

“She didn’t just hit you either, I saw . Stop downplaying it.” 

“I thought you were crying?” 

“Oh I was,” She said lightly, also turning to watch what was happening. “Drove Pup crazy. But I was watching you too.” 

It started to become clear Lucy Gray was indeed being chased by something. Or rather someone . She was being chased by Jessup . What was happening here? Something seemed off about the way the boy from 12 was running. Almost like he was possessed or something, unsteady and frantic. Grabbing a hold of Lamina’s hand, he gave her a tight squeeze as they and Reaper watched the scene unfolding before them, unable to do anything but watch what would happen. 

The pair quickly reached the pile of rubble in the middle of the arena. His shoulder burned with the reminder of the bombing. Lucy Gray hurried to climb up on top of it, but Jessup followed. There was nowhere else to go. She was cornered. No, no he couldn’t watch this. Sol hadn’t known the pack, but Jessup and Lucy Gray? They were allies . They were friends ! This wasn’t- He couldn’t- Closing his eyes, Treech turned away. This was different. This was far too close to home. Too much. 

Drones buzzed through the air, and Treech opened his eyes enough to see Jessup flinch away from the water bottles as they crashed to the ground and frantically try to get away. All he had to see was the way he stepped too far back to close his eyes again. A sickening, crunching sound echoed around the arena, loud enough for them to hear even from so far away. Bones. Those must’ve been Jessup’s bones. Those could’ve been his bones. 

Hydrophobia, erratic movements, unexpected behavior, the signs weren’t ambiguous. Rabies . Probably from some rabid animal in the zoo, too, which meant any of them could’ve caught it at some point. Treech could’ve caught it. That could’ve been him chasing Lamina up the rubble, forcing her to run for her life. Or it could’ve been Lamina, doomed to die a horrific, painful death since before the games even began. He shuddered slightly. It could’ve been him comforting her, or vice versa, instead of Lucy Gray telling Jessup to sleep. 

She tenderly cleaned his face, collecting more water and some sponsor gifts from her mentor before looking over at them warily and rushing back into the tunnels. One more tribute gone, one less to go. Treech could still hear that horrible sound as Jessup’s body had hit the ground. As viscerally as he could still feel the impact of Vipsania’s perfectly manicured hand with his face. A phantom pain, unlike the one in his shoulder. That one was real. Potentially disastrous too if he didn’t keep it in mind. Vipsania’s slap may have left a bruise at first, but he could forget about it now without consequence. 

“W-What else did she do?” Reaper asked, voice shaky as he seemed to force his eyes away from Jessup’s corpse. “Aside from hitting you.” It was an unsubtle attempt to try and forget what they’d just witnessed. It wasn’t working, but there was an attempt.

“She only hit me once…” 

“Because she didn’t have a chance to do it again before you saved her sorry ass during the bombing.” Lamina raised an eyebrow at him, daring him to object. 

Which he wouldn’t, because he wasn’t an idiot , thank you very much. He knew a losing battle when he saw one, and this wasn’t one worth fighting. No matter how much he wanted to defend his mentor, he knew he couldn’t. Not when everything Lamina said was true. All of it had happened, and he could “what about” until he was blue in the face but it wouldn’t change the fact that Vipsania had done all of this. If people drew unfavorable conclusions about her because of it, there wasn’t much he could do about that. 

“And let's not forget that disgusting comment about your looks bringing in sponsors like it’s a compliment or something!” Okay, no, they were not bringing that up. 

“Mina-” 

“Or her talking about you and treating you like an object for her fame as if you’re not a 15-year-old kid who’s about to be sent to his death!” She continued to rant. 

“Mina! Stop it!” He cried out. 

“Or when she-”

“Quit it!” 

He tried to remain calm, but he couldn’t help it. Someone had just died, reminding Treech even further of how lucky they were to have even made it this far, and Reaper and Lamina were basically grilling him about his mentor when she really wasn’t that bad anymore! She’d seemed remorseful, she wasn’t some kind of monster! Really, she wasn’t. She was just a girl doing what she’d been raised to do. Believing what she’d always been told. It wasn’t her fault she was born in wealth and they weren’t!

At first, he’d hated her guts too, but he knew she just hadn’t known any better. She’d gotten nicer, more concerned with his well being, over time. It may have been for selfish goals but it was something! It was all they could expect from Capitol folks, and they were stuck in this arena to fight to the death and Jessup was dead and they were going to die and the last thing he needed was for his sunshine to remind him of all the things he just wanted to forget ! 

“Stop talking like she’s some irredeemable monster when Harrington wasn’t any better!” 

“He didn’t hit me, Treech!” 

“But he judged you and made fun of you for being upset about being sent to die!” 

“And then he ended up being one of the best mentors out of all of them. Yours didn’t even reach decent despite all her supposed ‘growth’.” Lamina spat. 

It wasn’t that he couldn’t understand why Lamina was upset. How could he not, when he hated her mentor just as much for pretty much the exact same reason? Harrington had been horrible about Lamina at first and Treech refused to believe he’d changed that much because he hadn’t seen any significant improvements. The guy had brought Lamina food from the start and had simply kept doing so, the only thing he’d changed was bringing extra because she refused to stop sharing with Treech himself. 

Vipsania, though? She’d gone from despising his existence to bringing him chocolates and nearly fighting the peacekeepers for him. How could Lamina say she hadn’t changed at all when she so obviously had? Whether her motivations were any less selfish or not didn’t matter, because she’d gone out of her way to help him anyway even without direct personal benefit. He may not be able to argue against Lamina’s differing interpretation, but that didn’t mean he had to agree with it. 

“She did grow! Why can’t you see that?” 

“She was horrible to you-”

“At first! She was horrible at first , but now? If we’d been born in a different world I’d almost say Vipsania could’ve been my friend.” Treech said stubbornly. 

“ Friend ?! First you save her, now you say you could’ve been friends?! ” Lamina yelled hotly. “I cannot believe -”

“You call Harrington your friend!” He shot back defensively. 

“She told you to die, Treech! She wanted you to let yourself be killed if it secured her that stupid fucking prize ! Pup never did that!” He sucked in a breath through his teeth at her words, trembling with the effort to not react physically. 

“No, he didn’t.” He ground out coldly. “He told me to die instead.” 

As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them. As much as he regretted being unable to do more for Panlo than he had. As much as he regretted being forced to sit by and watch Dill die. Watch Sol die. Watch Jessup die. Watch their lights be snuffed out too soon, just because he was too focused on keeping the light in his arms alive to help anyone else. Covering his mouth with his hand, Treech wanted to hit himself for letting that one slip out like that. The way Lamina froze beside him only made him feel worse. 

She’d been so happy she’d gotten Harrington as her mentor and he knew how she could be when she got protective. What if he’d just ruined the one good thing she’d gotten in this whole experience? Why, why, why did he have to do something so dumb ?! Harrington had been kind to her in the end, they could’ve been friends! Why did he have to bring this up when he wouldn’t even live to deal with the consequences of Harrington’s decisions? 

“He. What ?” Lamina growled, voice low and dangerously calm. 

“Wow. Wow .” Reaper uttered incredulously. 

“Nevermind, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that, I’m sorry!” Treech apologized nervously. 

“No, no,” Lamina ground out, plastering a painfully fake smile onto her face. “By al means continue. What did he say to you?” 

“It’s fine, really! I don’t know why I brought it up.” 

“When?” The sheer tone of voice made him answer before even realizing he was speaking. 

“In the zoo before the interview night.” 

Fuck . He did not mean to say that. It definitely made things worse, too, because Lamina’s face contorted in a way he knew all too well. She was pissed . Very much so, in fact, and Treech doubted anything he said would make her calm down. In fairness, if Vipsania had said to Lamina what Harrington had said to him, and he’d found out about it? There would have been Hell to pay. Then again though, Harrington had actually been right . If Vipsania had said it, she wouldn’t have just been a little mean. She’d have been dead wrong too. 

“It’s fine, really. He just told me to let you live for the benefit of 7 instead of being ‘selfish’ or whatever. Honestly, I’m just insulted he thought he was actually being profound or something when pointing out the blatantly obvious. He didn’t even do it well .” Treech tried to joke. 

“Oh that little-”

“Mina.” He cupped her cheek with his hand and coaxed her into looking at him, giving her a soft smile. “I’m okay, I promise.” 

She didn’t look like she believed a word of what he was saying. Which was fair, because she shouldn’t. He was lying his ass off here. If he was an honest person, he’d have admitted that the guy’s words had hurt , no matter how true they were. Perhaps even because they’d been so true. If he were a good, honest friend, he’d have told her how the only thing stopping his tears was her. But he wasn’t. 

Maybe that made him a bad friend or whatever, but Lamina didn’t deserve to be saddled with all this baggage when she should’ve been oblivious to that stupid little confrontation and had a perfectly good friend to support her both emotionally and financially when she got to go back home. But no, Treech had ruined that for her. He’d ruined it like he seemed to ruin everything he came into contact with. Great. 

“Like I said, the worst thing he did is assume he knew more about our home than I , someone who lives there , does. Oh, and that some stupid ‘think of the community’ spiel would mean more to me than the fact that you’re my friend and I don’t want you to die .” 

And he loved her. But Treech was a coward, so that bit remained in his head. A truth only he would know for certain. That was the one thing he was determined to take to his grave. Everything else, the world could take from him, but this? He would not let Lamina live with such a big thing weighing on her shoulders. He’d rather go down into the arena, find Coral and let her skewer him than do that to her. 

“I cannot believe he was stupid enough to lecture you on what’s better for 7 when he doesn’t even know you!” Lamina grumbled incredulously. 

Laughing lightly, Treech tried to ignore the tight, squeezing feeling in his chest. Sure, Harrington didn’t know jack shit about either him or 7, but he hadn’t been wrong either. Lamina was more important for home. She did deserve to live more than he ever would, no matter how much it hurt to have it be said to his face. The truth hurt, but that didn’t make it any less… Well, true . His feelings on the matter didn’t change how the world worked, sadly. 

His feelings wouldn’t change the fact that he was going to die. They wouldn’t change the fact that more than half of the tributes had died already. They didn’t stop Jessup from succumbing to rabies and it wouldn’t unbreak his bones. The universe couldn’t give any  less of a damn about how he felt, so why burden his sunshine with them? Why do that when he could just keep them in a box in his heart and suffer with them until he died? 

As silence fell between the three of them, his gaze fell on the entrance to the tunnels Lucy Gray had disappeared into. He could see a flash of red hair, three silhouettes in the darkness. Coral. Tanner. Mizzen. They walked out of the tunnels, looking over at the two of them, as well as Reaper below them, approaching them, before stopping and looking around. They spoke in hushed tones before moving away from them again and deciding instead to focus on where Treech could see two other tributes disappearing out of sight. Circ and Teslee, maybe? 

As the other tributes disappeared again, he couldn’t help but be thankful he’d stayed with Lamina. If he’d been alone in those tunnels or with the pack, he might’ve lost his mind already. His sunlight truly was the only thing keeping him sane in this whole ordeal. She was his heart and his soul at once. If he lost her, what would he be? What would he live for if such an important light in his life was extinguished? Treech just couldn’t imagine existence without her. He didn’t want to, either. 

“Treech?” Lamina broke the silence that had fallen between them.

“Yeah Mimi?” He asked, resisting the urge to press his face into her neck. 

“Don’t believe Pup’s bullshit. Because he’s wrong. About you, about home, about me .”

“I know.”

“Promise?”

He knew she was using those big puppy eyes on him, even though he didn’t dare look at her face. That would be far too much for him to handle. He knew, if he told her the truth, it would break her heart. Knowing that he knew the truth would hurt her, and Treech wouldn’t couldn’t do that to her. Not now, when they both already had so much to deal with already. When they were already living through something worse than the darkest nightmares the human mind could conjure up. 

If reassurance was what she needed after what they’d just witnessed, that’s what he would give her. He’d take any pain he could from her and lay it to rest with him when it was his time to go. All the suffering he could save her from, he would. He’d take it all to the grave and suffer from it in the sweet old hereafter if it granted her even the smallest escape from all of this. If it gave her even a minute of joy, he’d gladly burn until the end of time. So he gave her a smile and a comforting squeeze. 

“Promise me you won’t listen to him.” She demanded, voice wobbly with tears. “You have to live , T. Promise me you won’t get yourself killed for me.” 

And he knew it was terrible of him, because good friends were honest, but she sounded so vulnerable and it terrified him just as much as it shattered his heart to pieces. Fuck, he loved this girl. He loved her so much it felt like he was about to burst. It only made him more determined to get her out of here, even when she was asking him to do the exact opposite. She’d survive. She’d be fine in the end. 

“Promise me you’ll do anything to stay alive.”

“I promise,” He lied.

Because he’d do anything for her. Treech would do whatever it took to get her out of here and make sure she got to build a life and grow old like she deserved. It didn’t matter the cost, he would gladly do whatever needed to be done for her. Even if it meant lying to her face. One day, she’d understand why he did what he was doing. Maybe she’d resent him for the rest of her life, but he didn’t mind. If she was alive to loathe him, he was happy. 

So he held her close and thought all the things he wished he could tell her. He wallowed in his guilt of knowing what he was about to put her through because he knew it would be worth it in the end. I promise , he told her, with no intention of keeping his word. I won’t , he said, knowing he’d do exactly that, just to keep her mind at ease. I love you , he thought, never once daring to speak those words out loud. 

I love you , he whispered in the depths of his mind, where no one but him could hear. I love you so much, and you’ll never know . He kept it close to his heart, hidden from the outside world. Nobody needed to know, because it wouldn’t matter. His love wouldn’t change the world, it would just make it more painful. So he kept it all a secret deep inside and tried not to think about all the horrors they’d seen so far. 

I love you, Lami, he lamented, and sometimes… Sometimes I wish I didn’t, but I do. 

He closed his eyes, hiding his tears from her as he let them fall. He was a liar, a spineless liar , but he knew this was what he had to do. If this is what it took to get her out of here, then so be it. If he had to hurt her to save her life and future, that’s what he’d do. All of this would’ve been so much easier if they’d stayed apart, but they hadn’t . They hadn’t , and if he could go back in time Treech knew he wouldn’t choose any differently, because he loved her. If his sun remained bright, he’d give up far more than his life in a heartbeat , no matter how much it might hurt her. 

So here we are, sitting on the beams

I’m sorry this is how it’s gotta be… 

There would be no more nights spent in their tree together. Only one of them may return, if anyone at all, and Treech would make sure it wasn’t him . He didn’t deserve it, not as much as Lamina did. She could disagree with him and Harrington all she wanted, Treech knew it was the truth. 

Strange things did happen here

No stranger would it be

And he was okay with that. Not happy, but okay. Because he loved her. He loved her, and she’d never love him back. And that was fine. She’d find someone to love, and Treech didn’t care that it wasn’t him as long as it made her happy. He just wanted her to be happy, and he’d do anything to make it happen. Even if it meant being the tragedy of her story. Even if it meant being forgotten. 

If your chance to live

Became my hanging tree

Chapter Text

Pup wasn’t one to doubt his own decisions. 

Yes, he was what some might call ‘impulsive’, though he much preferred the term spontaneous, but he’d never seen it as a bad thing. Thinking didn’t get things done, doing did. His brashness tended to bring good results, so why bother trying to change? People could judge what they deemed a lack of control, but he got the job done. His gut instinct had a mostly flawless track record, so who was he to doubt it? If he felt something was right or wrong, he’d act on that. 

The first time he’d ever wondered if it might be foolish was when he’d met Lamina. He still remembered the initial disappointment, the annoyance at being stuck with a lost cause. But he knew he’d have to try and make his family proud by winning the prize, so he’d vowed to do his best with the disaster he’d been handed. Her tears had made Pup want to scream, but he’d persevered. He’d looked for ways to get her sponsors, he’d tried to think of a strategy, he’d tried everything to make something of this situation.

He’d persevered all the way into a new friendship with a girl he was supposed to hate. A friendship that had kept him awake for four days and four nights, sleep barely gracing him with its presence as he worried for her. Here he was, wishing desperately fate would be on her side as she sat on top of her beam, wishing like he had since the day he first realized she deserved better than this. Except now, as he looked at them, he doubted himself for the second time in his life. After all, she was surrounded by two tributes who could attack and maybe even kill her with a lucky hit. They were her enemies! Her district partner beside her and an enemy below her. 

A district partner who helped her sleep and an enemy who’d chosen trade over battle. Wasn’t that a shocker? Two tributes who were meant to try and kill her had done more for her than Pup ever could, even though they had nothing where he had a fortune, influence, and a voice. The realization had hit him when trilby boy, Lamina’s district partner, had held her while she slept. Held her all throughout his guarding shift with nothing but gentle care in his touch and love in his eyes. A gentle love that shone through in every word he sang to help her find her dreams. A love Pup didn’t want to think about, but couldn’t bring himself to ignore anymore. He wasn’t a monster, after all, just… A little too quick to judge this time. 

And when that same boy, Vipsania’s little singing monkey, had sang his little song about some hanging tree, Pup remembered the sickening hatred that pooled in his gut every time he saw the boy. The fear for Lamina every time the two were close, the certainty living deep in his heart that that boy would be the one to try and kill her in the end. He remembered the way his instincts screamed at him that that boy was vile. Pure evil, here only to take his sweet Lamina away from him, to break her heart and throw it in the mud, to stomp on her sweet soul until she could rid herself of that parasite. He remembered it all, and wondered if this would be the second time his gut had been wrong. 

Pup wondered if maybe, sometimes, his gut told him not of instinctual knowledge, but of learned prejudice instead. Wondered if the type of person mean enough to betray someone like Lamina, vile enough to wait patiently for the moment to stab her in the back, could ever be bothered to write a whole song about dead children they hadn’t even known the way Lamina’s district partner was. Someone like that wouldn’t put themself in danger by climbing down from safety, risking it all just to comfort a dying girl who wouldn’t make it past the hour. And someone like that certainly wouldn’t be repeating the lyrics they’d written about the horrors they’d witnessed over and over again as the sun rose behind them. He pushed down the memory of what else the boy sang about in the solace of night, when no one but the audience could hear. 

(“Would you, would you

Meet me after dark? 

I wish that you knew

It’s you who holds my spark.”

Pup couldn’t pretend not to know what those words meant. Couldn’t pretend it wasn’t obvious when the boy looked at his sweet Lamina with such a soft gaze, nothing but pure adoration in his eyes as he ran his fingers through her dirtied red hair. Pup wanted so desperately to be wrong, for this all to be fake, but this wasn’t an act. Who could he be acting for? Everything the boy seemed to care about was right there in his arms, and with every passing minute Pup wished he could turn back time and get Lamina out of the games so she wouldn’t have to choose between herself and a boy who so clearly adored her. 

“Magic is real with you

My dear you leave your mark

So I beg you please,

To meet me after dark”)

Sometimes he sang about the other tributes. The ones who’d died in the arena, but the ones who’d died before that too. The ones that had tried to run from the arena and the ones who’d been killed in the bombing. But also… Pup still remembered the shock that rippled through the auditorium when they’d recognized their own children in the lines: Apollo, Diana, even Arachne. Three souls he didn’t even know still got a line in his song. The words hadn’t been kind, but they hadn’t been cruel either. Twins of the sun, he’d called Pollo and Didi, choosing to remember the way they’d cared for the two tributes from 6 rather than any of the achievements mentioned during their funeral. 

The room had almost taken it as disrespectful when those clips had been shown, footage from deep in the night when most of them had been asleep. Then Lysistrata had reminded them what they’d done to the tributes during that funeral. The cages, the way three corpses were dragged through the street and two others were put on display like trophies. For the first time, Pup wondered what the Capitol must look like to those in the Districts. What it might’ve been like to be on the other side of that treatment. From the tributes’ perspective, Pollo and Didi were random, unimportant nobodies whose deaths they were now suffering for, but Lamina’s partner had focused on the one thing the twins had done that would be considered positive to the Districts. 

Arachne… There truly was no way for anyone to twist what she’d done into something that would look favorable from the Districts’ perspective. Even Pup could recognize she’d been stupid and cruel, though death was a punishment far too harsh. He tried not to think about it too hard, because if being murdered was too harsh for her, even when she had done something to provoke it… He didn’t want to think about it. So he wouldn’t. Instead, he’d think about the implications of what was happening right now. Though Lamina was still the kindest soul he’d ever met by far, her partner’s attempt to be… neutral towards Arachne despite how the girl must look to the tributes, especially given what had been done to that tribute girl’s body, showed Lamina might not be as far in the lead as Pup had thought she was. 

Of course, the potential loss of sponsors definitely played a role here. Though he loathed to admit it, Pup could acknowledge that the boy wasn’t a complete idiot. Still, it would’ve been easy to not mention the mentors at all, but the boy had done so anyway. Not with the same fondness or grief present in his song for the tributes, but with sorrow nonetheless. Vipsania had put it best when she’d explained it was the lives lost Treech valued, not the people who’d lived them. She’d mentioned something about ‘spirituality’ in 7, though she hadn’t elaborated far enough for Pup to understand what she’d meant. Lamina had never mentioned such a thing to him, and he highly doubted her boy would’ve told her much either given how bad of a foot the two had started off on. 

“Oh it’s true

I wish it was a lie too

Instead I’m crying for you, oh”

The whole auditorium, listening in silence to a voice made of pure gold. One that sang so softly about feelings all of them could relate to in some way. Feelings aimed at someone who was too asleep to hear them. Pup listened to those words, and wondered if maybe it was himself who he should’ve been worried about. If maybe he shouldn’t have bothered with the games at all, shouldn’t have hoped so desperately that Lamina would be strong enough to survive, and instead should’ve tried to get rid of the games entirely. After all, if there were no games, Lamina wouldn’t have been in danger at all. If there were no games, maybe she’d have had a chance to show the Capitol whether the sweetly sung words filling the early morning air were reciprocated or not. 

“What on earth did I do?

Never been the type to

Let someone see right through, oh”

He’d sang a love song before, in the truly early hours. A way to pass the time that didn’t risk waking up the two other tributes, probably, because the songs were more likely to lull someone to sleep than they were to wake someone up. Even during the peak of his hatred for the boy, Pup had been able to admit his voice was velvety smooth, warm and comforting like s’mores at a campfire with friends. But the floaty feeling of butterflies described with the most beautiful poetry Pup had ever heard had been replaced by a song of longing. Or regret and broken dreams. Of love, still, but an unrequited one. Or rather an unspoken one. 

A silent love, kept dear to the heart of the boy on the screen. It was up for debate whether he even realized anyone could hear him. Maybe he thought they’d still be asleep, or maybe he didn’t even consider them at all. Too busy singing out all the feelings he must’ve been holding back for a while to even think about the reason he was in the arena at all. Pup wasn’t sure which one was better. He didn’t know if there even was a better. All he knew was that the boy was singing, and Vipsania had never looked more heartbroken. She cared for the boy deeply, and Pup hated himself for so callously dismissing her clear care for her… friend. She’d called him a friend. The same way he called Lamina his friend. But he’d considered his own feelings more ‘valid’, deluding himself into thinking his bond with Lamina was special until it was too late, and now only one of them would get their friend back. 

“What if I can’t take it back?

Pretend that it was just for laughs?

‘Cause nothing’s gonna change today

I wish that I could say I love you”

The boy’s name was Treech. His name was Treech, and he was in love with a girl named Lamina. Had admitted it so many times, but only when she couldn’t hear. Only ever in the songs he didn’t dare sing until the dead of night. He’d gotten more daring, singing so close to the waking hours. Everyone in the auditorium was already up, awoken by either the song or their early rising neighbors. In the arena, there was only Treech. But he was cutting it closer. He’d started only truly singing about his feelings when he was sure no one could hear, but he was starting to inch into territory where Lamina might just wake up and hear. 

It was almost like he wanted her to hear, but if he did then why didn’t he just tell her? Pup hoped she wouldn’t, knowing it would be so much harder for her to watch Treech die if she knew he loved her. She didn’t need the added stress, whether she returned his feelings or not. She had to survive, no matter what, even if that meant Treech had to die with a million questions he’d never get an answer to. Even if it meant she’d have to live with the knowledge her friend died without ever knowing if she loved him back. If it made things easier in the arena, it would be worth it. Pup knew it would be. He knew it, and no amount of doubt in his head or dread in his gut would change the fact that he was certain. 

“I love you

And I don’t want to, oh

ooh,”

As certain as he had been that Lamina was a lost cause. As certain as he’d been not a single person in the districts held a shred of humanity in them. As certain as he’d been Treech was just a cruel bastard using Lamina for his own gain. as certain as he’d been that the games were a good thing and these kids deserved it all and they didn’t feel the way the Capitol did. As certain as he’d been that Vipsania hadn’t been wrong to abandon the boy in the zoo. As certain as he’d been that Lamina would be fine with him telling her partner to let himself die for her if she ever found out. As certain as he’d been that it would be Treech who begrudged him for his contempt towards the younger boy. He was certain he was right. He had to be. It would all be worth it when Lamina was back in his arms so he could protect her and help her cope with her loss. Everything would be worth it. One day, it would be. 

“Up all night

High up in the night sky

I wish we could’ve learned to fly

I…” 

How long would it take for the words to feel true again? How many times would he have to repeat it to himself before he could finally believe it the way he had just days prior? How many nights would he spend wide awake once this was over? Sleep was already so rare since the games had started. What would it be like, when the pair from 7 was no longer whole enough to reassure him he wasn’t a monster? One of them would die, at least, and then what would he do? When at least one of them would live in grief for however many days they had left due to his inability to act when it actually mattered? 

Would he fight in their name? Would Vipsania find a loophole for them to abuse? Some part of this effort to turn the Games into a spectacle that would free both tributes and let Pup and Vipsania live without the crushing weight of their inaction? What would he do when reality finally rained down on him, when one of them inevitably died, forcing him to accept there was no miracle to save him from his conscience here? What even was there to do? No amount of regret would turn back time or change the way the world worked. It was far too late to save the two from the games, and Pup… Pup would ignore it, justify it, refuse it until he no longer could. Until he was the one cornered with nowhere to run. And then? 

“Maybe I should just try

To live my last days in lies

For I don’t want to make you cry

I…”

Then he would crumble together with whichever of the two was left in the aftermath. Maybe, one day, he’d think back to this very moment and wonder what the two could’ve been if Treech made a different choice than the one he’d made. If he’d chosen to tell Lamina how he felt, rather than choosing to live like he didn’t love Lamina the way he so obviously did. If only he could see the way Lamina clearly loved him back. She loved him so much, Pup wondered if her undeniable adoration for the boy reaped with her was what had caused his gut to twist back when he’d first seen them together. 

He paused. Thought back to every time he’d seen or heard of Treech and wished the thought had never crossed his mind. Because as far as tributes went, the boy was one of the least resentful or hostile. In fact, he’d almost been as docile as Lamina had been, which hadn’t been remarkable to Pup until he remembered yesterday’s revelation. The argument between his sweet Lamina and her district partner. The way he’d defended not only Vipsania, but Pup as well. Days ago, he would’ve scoffed at it, but then his own interpretation of events had been heavily biased in his own favor. 

Everyone saw the world through their own lens, and that lens naturally sought to justify one’s own actions. However, the way they’d been discussed by the three tributes on the screen… it didn’t look good for either him or his fellow mentor, without the justifications and the reasoning and the self reassurance that rang through his head non-stop. Vipsania was his friend, and Pup knew her well enough to know the argument had cut her deep no matter how hard she tried to hide it. They were one in the same on this front. 

Now, Pup had admitted long ago he’d treated Lamina poorly. In fact, his desire to rectify that was what had driven him since somewhere around the bombing. This was different though. Treech wasn’t his friend, but now Pup was starting to realize he wasn’t the enemy either. Everything that had made him want to protect Lamina, Treech had in some form or another. Perhaps some other tributes did too, but Pup couldn’t quite bring himself to take the step required to truly examine that concept. 

“I could never take it back

Say I was trynna make you laugh

And nothing’s gonna change this way

So I will never say I love you”

Now that he heard the boy truly lay out his heart for the world to see, it was impossible to see him as an obstacle or a threat. He was just a kid, stuck in the same situation as Lamina, and with every minute Pup felt the dreadful realization dawn further on him that his attempts at saving Lamina would only hurt her in the long run. The more time she spent with the boy, the harder it became to ignore the way she looked at him. Every time he thought back to how she’d spoken of him in the zoo, the harsher the blow to his heart became.

Because Treech loved Lamina. Had admitted it when no one but the audience he may never face again could hear. He confessed when no one who mattered could decipher the depths of his emotions. Now, with this melancholy song laying bare one more layer of his heart, the boy from 7 confessed things Pup wished he’d say when the sun was high in the sky. He’d always want Lamina to win these games, but some part of him ached for Vipsania’s tribute. Not just because he knew Vipsania would break if he died, but because the boy deserved better than this. At the very least, he deserved to die knowing the truth. 

The truth that no matter how much Treech loved Lamina, she loved him just as fiercely. Now, with his eyes finally opened, Pup could see the way Treech had her heart in his hands without even realizing it. Lamina would give everything she had for him, and though Pup knew next to nothing about Treech… He knew the boy deserved a fate better than the one awaiting him, because only someone truly special could be lucky enough to be the center of Lamina’s world. Perhaps not special in a way that Pup couldn’t see, but since meeting Lamina he’d started to realize there was more to the world than the isolated box the Capitol lived in. 

Maybe he’d have gotten the chance to learn just what the districts considered special, if he hadn’t been so quick to listen to his gut. But he saw the look in Lamina’s eyes when Treech confessed what Pup had told him days ago. Even from the distance, he could feel her rage. Her protective fury would undoubtedly be unleashed upon Pup the minute she left the arena, and he knew there was nothing he could do to salvage their friendship. Not if Treech truly died in the arena the way Pup knew he would. 

Whatever Treech had to win over Lamina’s heart wouldn’t protect him in a fight. The boy was not a fighter, not in the way Lamina was. It was starting to become clear that the kid was aware of it too, though he didn’t seem too bothered by it. Like he’d long since accepted his fate and decided he’d make something of it. Pup wasn’t sure whether to be grateful or scared. It would make Lamina’s victory easier if the Treech would die willingly, but Pup was under no delusions. If Treech truly did die down there, Lamina would never forgive her. Pup could live with it, if she was alive to hate him, but… would he be able to handle it? 

“I love you

My world, I love you

ooh,”

She was- She was his world. Pup had spent days convincing himself the boy had no emotions yet here he was, pouring his heart out to a world who didn’t give a damn whether he’d die or not. It was awful, and it was too late. They were in the games, there was no way Pup would be able to get them both out no matter what he did. He couldn’t even use his father’s name to bribe the guards to pull them out because somewhere down the line, someone would figure out they were gone, and then they’d never be able to live normally. 

If it even worked, that is. It was too late, Pup had found out the truth too late, and all because he’d been too stupid and selfish to consider that maybe there was more to the world than his own narrow worldview. Those two loved each other through and through. Seeing how Lamina had reacted the few times she hadn’t known where Treech was, he was certain she wouldn’t just be able to move on from him the way Pup had thought she could. No, his death would destroy her, the same way her death would destroy him. If one died, so did the other. They were doomed. His friend was doomed and it was all because he’d been too stubborn and stupid to just see the obvious truth that had been staring him in the face since day one. 

He was pathetic. Pup was pathetic, and now Lamina and the boy she loved were the ones paying the price. Gritting his teeth, he tried to think of something, anything he could do to help them, but all he had was his stupid communicuff. Water, bread, and cheese. That’s it. That’s all he had. It was pathetic, and with every second Pup began to hate himself more for being so unbelievably blind. As those soft, heartbreaking words kept spilling from Treech’s lips, Pup wondered how he could’ve ever let it get this far. 

“Your smile is what saves me

Even when I feel like dying”

Yet somehow, Treech didn’t seem to realize every word he spoke was just as true for Lamina. Now that his blinders had finally fallen away, Pup could see that the hope to make Treech smile once more was the only thing that kept her going. He was all she had. Every look she gave him proved even further how he was all that kept her going, and for Pup to get her back… She’d have to lose the one who put the light in her eyes. Pup had convinced himself she deserved to live more than all the others because of her unique spark, only to be forced to realize that the person who’d have to die for her to survive was the one who brought that spark to life. 

Things would’ve been so much easier if his gut had been right, but it wasn’t. He’d been wrong about Lamina, and he’d been wrong about Treech. Perhaps, if he were a better person, he could’ve let himself think about what this meant for the other tributes. But so many of them were already dead and Pup was starting to realize he wasn’t a good person. Not at all. So he ignored the voice in the back of his head asking him if he was in part responsible for all the screens with Panem’s sigil instead of a face. If it was his silence, his refusal to care enough to speak up, that had let this happen. 

If it was his fault his sweet Lamina was doomed to die, no matter what she did. 

“We fall apart, the world goes dark”

I’m in your arms, the final arc”

Their love had always been there, even if Pup had been too blind to see it, but maybe it wouldn’t have been this strong if he’d gotten Lamina out. If he hadn’t been her rock throughout these almost two full weeks of torment, maybe she wouldn’t be so deeply attached to him. If he’d died in the bombing, or stayed with the pack, or had remained on his own, maybe they both would’ve been able to handle the other dying. But now they shared a bond Pup could never understand, sharing in this horrific experience together. They’d both put all their worth in each other, so when one of them died… The other would too. And neither of them seemed to truly understand how much they meant to each other. 

Only a few tributes remained. The three on the screen, the pairs from 3 and 4, the boy from 10, and the girl from 12. The one from 8, Wovey, had died earlier that morning. 9 tributes. 15 children had died, and none of them had made Pup wonder if maybe his sense of morality was severely fucked up. No, it had taken a kid singing about a love he’d never get to live out for him to realize that Lamina was different, she was just someone he’d gotten to know personally. All this time, he’d hated Treech for putting Lamina in danger, only to realize he would die for her when it was already too late. And now Lamina would die hating him for what he said to her partner, and he’d never get a chance to apologize for just how stupid he’d been. 

“Wish I could stay, but there’s no way

There’s no escape, and yet I love you”

He’d never get the chance to apologize to Lamina for thinking she was weak and needed to be protected. For thinking he’d be her knight in shining armor, saving her from these savage beasts she was stuck with, when in reality he was one of the dragons keeping her locked in a tower to die. In actuality, her savior was one of the people stuck with her, and neither of them could live unless the other died. Vipsania would never be able to tell her own tribute that she did care the way Pup knew she wanted to. The way she’d failed to do before they were dragged into the arena. 

And Pup… Pup would never be able to tell him sorry either. For dehumanizing him, for hating him when he should’ve hated himself, for pretending he was less worthy of life simply because he was born in the wrong place, for thinking the fiction he’d made up about the kid was reason enough to wish him dead, for… For everything! There were a million things he had to apologize for, and he’d likely never get the chance, and Pup didn’t know what to do with that knowledge. How was he supposed to deal with the fact that everything he’d believed in his life was a lie? The games were barbaric, yes, but not because of the children.

They were barbaric because of the Capitol. Not just the government, but every single person who lived in this city. All of them turned a blind eye, more concerned with the waste of money and their own disinterest than the actual lives lost. They pitied the tributes enough to give food, but not enough to demand the games be stopped. And now another 23 children would be dead. How long would they continue on like this? How many innocents would have to die before this horrific spectacle was finally ended? 

How many times would he be forced to see a scrappy young girl with tears in her eyes and an axe in her hands and be reminded of the friendship he destroyed with his stubborn ignorance? How many poets would be forced to be soldiers, singing their true songs only in the dead of night where no one could hear? How many boys would he have to see be hopelessly in love with someone they’d have to die for before the guilt finally left him alone? How many children would see their worlds fall apart right in front of them, seeing their own death come closer every second and be forced to hold their heads high, knowing the only alternative would be to break down? How many?! 

“And I’ll die for you

Because I love you

ooh…”

How many times would Pup see a tribute lose themself over the death of their partner and be reminded of this moment? This quiet, almost fragile voice confessing his true feelings, exposing the most vulnerable parts of himself knowing he wouldn’t live to see a day in which he’d hear the world react? A boy who’d never truly understand the effect he had. One who would never find out he’d bridged a gap previously thought to be impossible to cross. He’d never see the way the Capitol’s finest students, Panem’s future, was crying for a boy they’d hated days before. 

He wouldn’t see the tears his love had created, the way he’d made the atmosphere in the gymnasium shift every time he opened his mouth to sing. He would never see cold, composed, vicious Vipsania sob into her hands with guilt and regret and care. Would never see the boy from 10 peek out from the tunnels, a heartbroken expression on his face. All he saw was the rising sun as he hummed out the final notes of his song. The boy from 11 finally woke up, and the song was over. The song was over, and none of the children in the arena would ever see the way the tears remained in the eyes of the monsters who’d condemned them to death for crimes they didn’t commit. 

And Lamina would never know how much she was adored. 

She wouldn’t hear the words of devotion he sang for her every night. The sweet tones he dedicated just to her, the smile on his face only she could create. Out of everything, that was the worst part of it all. The fact these children had lives they could’ve lived, and now they’d never know if they could’ve one day achieved their dreams. Lamina would never get to call Treech hers because Pup had been too stupid to act earlier. They could’ve grown old together, but instead they were doomed to say goodbye too soon. Lamina would be forced to watch her love die right in front of her, and Pup knew it would destroy her. 

It would kill her on a level nothing could fix, because he was everything she had left in the games. Through all the uncertainty and the fear and the pain, he’d been there to support her. To be her rock, keeping her grounded in the storm that so desperately tried to sweep her away. Once that rock was gone… Pup wanted to believe she’d be strong enough to persevere the way Treech did, but he wasn’t oblivious. A human could only take so much, and with how much those two relied on each other, it was clear they would be each other’s breaking point. 

Briefly, Pup wondered if perhaps Treech would be Tanner’s breaking point, too. 

Now, without his blinders, he knew it wasn’t outside of the realm of possibility. Not with the way Tanner was watching him now, something Pup couldn’t possibly describe in his eyes as Coral and Mizzen walked out from the tunnel. The hesitance in his step as he followed them. Pup’s chest tightened until he felt like choking. He lifted his hand to his face, absentmindedly swiping the tear tracks off his face as dread pooled in his stomach. They wouldn’t even get one more chance for Lamina to hear her boy’s late night confessions. 

No, she’d truly never get to know, would she? She was going to live the rest of her days wondering what could’ve been, because their luck had run out. As Pup rose to his feet almost automatically, he wished for the first time that he did believe in some deity, some kind of destiny, if only so he could pray to it that the two of them would make it out alive, but he didn’t. He couldn’t even pretend there was anything he could do as Treech froze and shook Lamina awake. Couldn’t even reassure his friend that everything would be okay as Reaper ran towards the tunnels. He couldn’t even listen to one more line of beautiful poetry from Treech and wonder what they could be. Not when every what if and maybe was about to be destroyed right in front of his eyes. He couldn’t even pretend not to know what would happen when Mizzen and Coral were climbing onto the poles.

Treech had minced no words. He would die for Lamina. Every song he sang proved he was a better person than everyone in the Capitol combined, and now he would die for it. He would die, and Pup could do nothing but remember every song he’d sung and wish he’d known sooner. He watched Lamina and Treech ready their axes, and all he could do was try not to cry about the tragedy he’d allowed to happen. 

He was a monster. 

Chapter Text

The second Lamina spotted Coral and her lackeys approach, a deep sense of dread began to creep its way through her body. 

It started in her stomach, an aching pit of something that crawled through her veins, grasping onto anything it could find with its shudder-inducing claws until it could wrap its grip around her throat. Until it poisoned her heart and made the hairs in her neck stand up in alarm. They’d both known the peace would end eventually, of course, and Reaper too, but she’d hoped… Knowing it from the start didn’t make the end any easier.

Three against two. Knowing she wouldn’t have to watch her back didn’t calm her down, because she’d have to watch Treech’s. One wrong move on either of their parts could turn all her carefully crafted parts to dust. One slip up on her end, one misstep on Treech’s, and it would all be over. Slowly, Lamina raised herself to her feet, hands grasping the axe on her back. This was it. The moment she’d known was coming for days now. Breathing slowly, she watched Mizzen and Coral both pick a pillar to climb. They should’ve ran into the tunnels. They should have followed Reaper. Maybe if they’d ran for safety…

But it was too late now, and Lamina knew the truth. It wouldn’t have saved them. The pack would have followed them into the tunnels, chased them down until there was nowhere left for them to run. Treech could’ve escaped, but she knew him. He was too kind, too sweet, too loving. He’d have let her drag him down without a second thought, because that’s just who Treech Meran was. He’d turned down a huge advantage for her before, he’d doubtlessly have done it again. She couldn’t let that happen. Clenching her teeth, Lamina stepped towards the pillar Coral was climbing, only to flinch back when a large rock was hurled straight at her skull. 

Tanner was standing below, a small smirk on his face as he leaned down, ready to pick up another one. Dammit! One look at the crossbeam was enough for Lamina to know she couldn’t risk losing her balance. The concrete was only a couple of feet wide, barely enough for them to stand on comfortably. Glancing between Coral and Mizzen, Lamina breathed through her nose and raised her chin. Alright then. If they wanted a fight, they could have it. With her free hand, she blindly reached behind until her fingers brushed against her sunshine’s, grasping his hand and squeezing in reassurance. 

She was here, she was with him, and she would keep him safe. No matter what. The soft, trembling squeeze she got in return broke her heart, but there was nothing she could do. Not as Coral and Mizzen made it to the top and stepped onto the beam. When Tanner threw the weapons up, it felt like time slowed down just so she could savor that last bit of skin contact with her darling. One last second to feel his warmth, to wonder what they could’ve been in a just world. If she’d realized her feelings sooner. If she’d had the courage to say something earlier. If she’d been strong enough to get them out of this mess before it was too late. If their mentors had cared enough to fight for them.
If she’d loved him enough to leave him sooner. 

Coral’s eyes blazed, not with fury but desperation, as she swung her trident. A cold feeling spread from where her hand left his all the way to her heart as Lamina raised her axe to block. She couldn’t bring herself to look back at the risk of seeing her worst fear come true. Instead, she focused all her attention on protecting Treech’s back. What happened to her didn’t matter, so long as he would be okay. And when she saw the determination in her adversary’s eyes, she truly felt like no matter what Coral thought of her, they really weren’t all that different. 

Familiar love or romantic love, it was love all the same. They had the same goal for different reasons. Every slash of her axe, every stab of the trident, it was all born from a need to protect. Every gash and bruise they earned, they fought through just to give their partners one more minute to live. And with every failed attempt to kill her, Coral seemed to get closer to that same realization. It wouldn’t stop either of them, but still Lamina could feel some strange sense of comradery with this girl who’d hated her from the start. Neither of them would live to see the outside of the arena ever again, and both of them knew it. 

(“Hey Lumberjack!”)

It was almost funny how Coral hadn’t wanted her to join the alliance because she’d seen her as a deadweight, and now here they were. A fight on equal footing, neither showing any signs of succumbing to the other. The gash on Lamina’s arm was repaid with a cut on Coral’s leg, one close shave to her stomach returned with a swing so close to decapitating Coral it cost her a large chunk of hair. It made her wonder what would’ve happened if this fight had been on the ground, once the alliance inevitably fell apart, had they all made different decisions that day. 

(“Just you.” She said, like she wasn’t causing Lamina’s world to crumble. “Just you.”)

Would they even know how alike they were, had Treech left her all those days ago? Would she have still chosen to be on the crossbeam, or would she have hid out in the tunnels instead? They’d never know now, but every time death came closer to her, she wondered how things could’ve ended up in a different world. Would she have gotten to the end on her own, or could she have died all the way back during the bombing? The trident got so close to her face she could feel the wind brush her nose, and she wondered if any of it would’ve even mattered if Treech had left. 

(Treech looked her in the eyes, and if she hadn’t known him like she did she would have missed the agony in his face as he turned away from her. Sharp, cold stabs pierced her heart, which shattered into millions of tiny little shards under the impact.)

When a carefully calculated swing of her axe almost took Coral’s hand off, she couldn’t help but imagine Pup, ripping his hair out wherever he was every time she allowed an opportunity to strike to slip by her. Because they would require her to duck, or to move to the side. It would give Coral an opportunity to aim behind her, where Treech’s back was turned. He would never be able to see it coming in time, and Lamina wouldn’t let it happen. Because he’d always chosen her side, from the day they first met all the way into this Hell, he’d been right there with her. 

(“No.”)

Because she loved him, and he’d never done anything to make her stop loving him. 

If she’d cared any less, she’d have been able to take Coral out long ago. But it might’ve cost Treech’s life, and Lamina… She couldn’t pay a price that high. She would rather let the Capitol torture her like they’d tortured Marcus than put her boy in any more danger than he needed to be. Maybe, if he’d walked away back then, she’d have been better off. It would’ve hurt, but she’d have been able to move on. But he hadn’t, and she couldn’t do that anymore. Not after everything he’d done for her. Not when she knew she’d have left him, if only so she wouldn’t have to watch him die, had the choice been hers. 

So every time Coral struck, Lamina stopped her. Not to live, but to make sure no one could get to the angel behind her. The light she refused to let die. Even when he didn’t love her back the way she wanted him to. Because he’d still chosen her, and there was nothing she could do to repay everything he’d given her over the years. For just a moment, she allowed herself to be angry. Angry that only one of them could go home. That all these innocent children had to die for this to end. That she wouldn’t be able to see her love be happy again.

That Treech was a better person than her, and she was going to die for it. 

For just a moment, she resented him for not walking away from her. The trident managed to scrape her, but she refused to back down. If he’d left, she’d have fought only for herself. But he hadn’t. He was still here. Still trying to get them both to the end, even though only one of them could go home. As much as she wanted to hate him for taking away her chance of surviving, she knew she couldn’t. It wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t his fault that she loved him, and it wasn’t his fault that he didn’t love her back. If Treech died, Lamina would never be able to live with herself. Not anymore. As long as he got out of here, she didn’t mind dying in this place. He was more than worth it to her. 

Maybe it wasn’t healthy, being so ready to give her life for someone else’s, but it was too late to change that now. That happiness she’d felt when Treech had turned his back on the pack could never be worth the sheer, unbridled despair that would come if he were to die now. Yes, he’d chosen to stick with her to better her odds at survival, which no sane person could’ve ever expected of him. No one could have judged him for leaving her, because telling him to stay would be like telling him to kill himself for her! Exactly what Pup had done to him… Telling a child to die for the sake of someone else, as if that was in any way fair! But he’d done it anyway…

She couldn’t let that be a waste. No, she had to make sure he’d made the right decision! If only she could do more than keep Coral away from him. If only she could actively protect him from both sides… No, she couldn’t let herself get distracted. She had to stay focused on Coral, lest the girl managed to get past her, to him. Gritting her teeth, Lamina lashed out, using the axe as a fakeout to distract the other girl before kicking at her legs. Coral lost her footing. Not enough to fall, but enough to make her lose her balance. Before she could strike, Coral charged again and tried to hit her over the head. Once again, Lamina raised her own blade, letting their weapons lock in a battle of pure strength. 

A scream. That voice… Turning around, she felt her body tense with horror. Treech laid on the beam, arms swinging around aimlessly against the ropes restricting his movement. Mizzen held the ends of the net surrounding her sweetheart, a bloodied knife clutched in his trembling hand as he raised his arm high. Ready to strike. Ready to kill. Without thought, she pushed the trident away with a strength she’d never had before and whirled around. They may fight for the same thing, but they were fundamentally different. 

Lamina didn’t even feel the weight of the axe as she raised it over her shoulder and swung, didn’t even notice the impact of metal on bone as Treech threw the net off of him. All she knew was the high pitched scream of grief behind her and the flaring of her nerves as something pierced her side from behind. Her eyes met her love’s just as her hands found the sharp metal sticking out from her skin. No, her and Coral weren’t the same. 

Lamina killed to protect, Coral killed to avenge. 

Her vision swam, yet her eyes remained on Treech. Her Treech. Her beautiful, sweet, caring sunlight. His beautiful face was twisted with devastated horror, tears shining in his eyes as he cried out for her. They mixed in with Coral’s sobs behind her like they were one. The world began to tilt as she swayed. Her sunlight’s soft voice was hoarse, cracking on one single word as he moved forward just as the trident was ripped back out of her body. 

“No!” 

Her legs gave out from under her. Wind roared in her ears. Her axe slipped from her grasp and clattered to the ground. Then Treech was there, picking it up from the ground, swinging his arm back and over his shoulder as he threw it past her with an anguished roar. He fell down next to her, trembling hands grasping onto her as he called her name. Even in her dazed state, she could feel his care in the way he lifted her off of the cold concrete. He hovered over her like an angel, ready to take her to heaven, his hot tears dripping onto her face as his hands pressed into her side. 

“Mina, Mina!” He repeated her name like a mantra, panic etched in every line of his body as he tried to stop the bleeding. “Come on, say something! Stay with me!” 

And she tried, truly she did. To speak, to reassure him he’d be okay, to let him know she’d be right there with him until the end of time. That she’d live on in his memory and give him the strength to pull through. All she could manage, though, was a cough. Some gasped whisper not even she could decipher. Even when he cried, his beauty took her breath away. Maybe… Maybe dying wasn’t so bad after all. Not if her sunshine was the last thing she saw. To Lamina, it felt like she was processing the world through a thick fog, with only her sunshine as a point of clarity. 

Her gaze flitted around quickly, hoping to make sure grief wasn’t putting her boy in danger. Mizzen’s upper body hung over the edge of the beam, blood and shattered skull splattered around him. Behind Treech, Lamina could just make out Coral’s face. Her mouth was open in shock, empty eyes aimed at the sky where she’d fallen backwards. The axe was still embedded in her chest, stuck perfectly in the center. Treech had always been the skill to her strength. The accuracy to her power. Perfect complements where maybe they should have been polar opposites. But while she’d consider them to be two parts of a whole, she knew deep in her heart those parts weren’t equal.

Her momma had always told her skill wins over brute force in the end.

A soft hand cradled her cheek, turning her attention back to the ray of sunshine that had brightened her dark world for all these years. Her first friend and her last love. Her Treech. Her sweet, beautiful Treech, who looked so pretty even with the snot and tears running down his face, it was hard to believe he wasn’t some otherworldly being. But his cries echoed in the arena, now empty of anyone but them, so raw and pained and unbearably human… He had his flaws, just like her. One of them just happened to be his insistence on staying with a deadweight like her. 

“Mimi…?” He sounded so small and heartbroken, she couldn’t help but reach out for him.

Her hand didn’t even make it halfway up to his face before he grasped it with a desperation that broke something inside her. He wanted her to stay so badly, even knowing she’d have to die at some point… He really was too kind for this world. She wanted to wipe the tears off of his face and reassure him everything would be fine, but she couldn’t even bring out a single word. All she could do was try to smile. Her smile always seemed to cheer him up. Now, it only made him cry harder as he pressed both their hands against the wound in her side. 

“C-come on, just keep it there, ‘kay? I’ll- I’ll wrap it up and then you’ll be fine. You’ll be fine. I’ll fix this somehow, I’ll figure it out okay? You’ll be okay.” 

Those last three words were repeated again and again like a desperate mantra as he took off his vest and began trying to wrap it around her wound. It wouldn’t save her and they both knew it, but still he tried. And she couldn’t even offer him a simple word of comfort. He deserved so much better than her, yet he always kept on choosing her anyway. Quietly, Lamina let her head roll against his chest. A twisted version of her favorite way to fall asleep. In his loving arms, listening to his heartbeat. A sick way to remind herself that she’d done what she’d set out to do. He was still alive. Sobbing and heartbroken and desperately trying to change fate, but alive. 

He would live, as she’d promised she’d make happen. Still, she couldn’t bring herself to be happy about it. Not with how broken her beloved sounded. His sobs reminded her of Coral’s, right before the trident had pierced her skin. As his tears rained down on her like the autumn downpour she wished she could’ve danced in with him, she couldn’t help but think back to that fateful day, when Treech had turned down the alliance for her. She knew he wasn’t stupid. He knew she had to die for him to live. The more she thought about it, the more his words to Coral began to make sense. 

(“Why would you pass up our alliance for her?!”

“For similar reasons to why you’re not dropping your district partner like a brick, I assume.”)

Coral had taken it as an insult, believing that he’d been calling Mizzen weak by comparing him to someone she’d considered useless. But Lamina wasn’t useless, and she certainly wasn’t weak. There had always been more to it than that, though Lamina hadn’t really thought about it back then. The shock and relief had been too strong for her to truly consider his words, but now she realized he’d never meant to compare her to Mizzen. No, he’d been comparing himself to Coral, and really… Lamina should have known he’d planned to get her out of the arena all along. 

It was just the kind of self-sacrificial plan he would come up with, trying to keep someone like her alive when everyone wanted him to come home. If only she could make him see how loved he was… Maybe then he wouldn’t be in so much pain now. Then he’d be able to let her go, knowing this is how it had to be. This was the best outcome for everyone. Even her. She had to reassure him somehow, let him know not to blame himself the way she knew he would. Taking a shuddering breath, she squeezed his hand. Just enough to stop his pleads and promises as his glossy eyes met her own. 

“D-Don’t… Don’t cry…” She whispered, “You deserve… T-to live…”

“So do you!” Treech sobbed. “Why- Why did you do that?! You could’ve- You could’ve taken her out!”

“Would’ve… You… In danger…” 

Clearly, that had been the wrong thing to say, because it only made him cry harder. For the first time in her life, Lamina wasn’t sure what would make him feel better, because for the first time it was her causing him pain. That hadn’t been a part of her plan. Not at all. Sure, she’d known he would be distraught, but this… He looked like his whole world was crashing down around him. Even her attempts to squeeze his hand no longer did anything to calm him down, leaving her unsure of what to do. 

She felt like she was floating in an ocean, so cold it left her numb to the pain of her wounds. The only sensation left was the panic of drowning, of being dragged down further and further, trying in vain to break the surface one last time. To feel the light of her sun for one more second before the waves finally took her for good. Her sun, her perfect pretty boy with a voice like honey and his own little corner in her heart. A corner that felt strangely empty as he struggled to find words for the first time since she’d met him. Treech had always known what to say, but now he couldn’t even string together a single syllable without choking on the grief obscuring the sparkle in his eyes that had drawn her to him all those years ago. 

“Who- Who cares about that?! Why the fuck would you put yourself in danger like that?!” 

“F-For… For you…” 

“Who gives a fuck about me?! Lams, you can’t- Don’t- They need you back home, don’t you know that?!” 

How could he think that, when he was right there? Who would ever want her back if the other option was the angel hovering above her? An angel she’d gladly go to heaven for, yet whose tearful exclamations kept her tethered to earth for just a second longer. She couldn’t leave him like this, she had to do something. There had to be some way to make him feel better. Surely… Surely she wasn’t so important to him to break him like this…Of all the people he held dear, how could she be the one to have such a big impact on him? 

“Th… N’d you… m’re…” 

“What?! How could you think that?!” He nearly screamed. “They- Mimi, no, how could they possibly need me more than you?” 

There he was again, that gentle boy she knew. Never before had she heard him raise his voice like this, but despite his overwhelming emotions he still found it in himself to soften his tone for her. Oh, how she adored him. How she wished he could’ve been hers. But no, he deserved so much better than her. Look what she was putting him through because of it. Look at how much she was hurting him with her decisions. Even though she knew it wasn’t a fair choice, since one of them had to die no matter what they did, she couldn’t help but feel guilty for how helpless he looked as he tried in vain to keep her alive. 

“W-who… Who w’ld ever n-need me?” She asked quietly. 

“I do!” Treech cried, not even a hint of hesitation or doubt in his response. “I need you! Your- Your family needs you, our friends need you, I need you! It- It was supposed to be me who died here! I can’t-” He sobbed, cradling her face like she was something precious as his voice dropped to a whisper. “I can’t live without you…” 

How could he think that? How could he genuinely believe that it was supposed to be him, with all the good he did for their district? She wasn’t a pillar of the community like him, she didn’t make the children laugh or the sick and elderly smile one last time before they passed away. She wasn’t anywhere near his league, no one was. Even his flaws were more reason to adore him. What did Lamina bring to his life that he couldn’t find somewhere else? 

“I- I can’t do this without you Mimi, please… Please don’t leave me…”

“W-Why…” 

“You- You don’t get it, do you?”

When she tried to answer, all she could squeeze out of her throat was a weak cough. But Treech, her beautiful Treech, could read her like an open book. Something clicked within him, and it seemed to upset him even more. The open, unfiltered agony on his face as he looked at her broke something within her, but it didn’t hurt as badly as knowing that she couldn’t ease his pain. That was the worst part of this all by far. If only he was less kind, less empathetic. If only he’d care less. Then he wouldn’t be hurting now. 

Then she wouldn’t have loved him so much she’d give her life for him. 

But she loved him too much to let him die, and he cared too much to let her go. They were both hurting, far more so than Lamina had anticipated, and maybe she should’ve known. She could’ve predicted this, but maybe then it would’ve been harder to put him through this. With her thumb, she shakily rubbed the back of his hand. At this point, she wasn’t even sure what she was trying to achieve. It was just pure instinct. A need to be close to him, to feel him, to know he was still by her side. Something Lamina couldn’t explain anymore. 

Thinking became as hard as trudging through waist-deep mud. Slow and unsteady and so tiring she forgot where she was even trying to go by the time she reached the other side. All she had to show her the way was her light, her sunshine. His warmth was a comfort, even when his pain made her heart go cold. Every tear that fell from his eyes down to her prone form was like a plunge in a winter lake. It froze her to the bone. But his arm was still around her back as he held her close, not warm but chasing away the worst of the ice in her veins. 

“W-Why…” She tried again. “Why… stay…?”

Because it didn’t make sense to her. None of this made sense. Everything she’d clung to as truth these past few days was starting to vanish, and Lamina wasn’t sure what to do with that. She wasn’t sure about anything anymore. Not when her head was so muddled she couldn’t even think straight anymore. The only point of clarity in her world was right in front of her, only for that last handhold to shatter in her grasp at his next words. 

“Because I love you!” 

Everything faded to white noise around her, the last of her thoughts screeching to a halt as the meaning of those four little words sank in. He loved her. Surely not… Surely not in that way, right…? That couldn't be true. What could someone like him ever see in someone like her? But he was still talking. Her sunlight was still talking, confessing, pleading with her to understand what went against everything she’d ever thought to be true. Trembling fingers brushed her red hair away from her face so she could truly see his sincerity. 

“I’ve loved you for years, I- I promised I would protect you and I failed you!” 

Years. He’d loved her for years. It really was unfair, wasn’t it? How she’d loved him for so long, only knowing she could’ve had him all this time when that time was up. It had taken the interviews to truly realize how much he meant to her, and now it took death to know what that had truly cost her. If only she’d been less oblivious in their years of friendship, they could’ve spent all that time together. Now it was too late, and Treech thought he’d somehow failed her when it was Lamina who had failed. It was her who’d taken too long to realize what she felt for him, it was her who had chosen to die for him, and it was her who’d failed to notice that he’d planned to do the same until it was too late. 

“You didn’t… Fail me…” She told him, and finally she managed a genuine smile as she told him what she’d hid from him for too long. “I- I love you… too…” 

Even as the tears kept streaming down his face, wasting precious water on a girl who didn’t deserve it, Treech gently pressed their lips together in a soft kiss. It was better than anything she could’ve asked for, and Lamina couldn’t even bring herself to care about the blood cooling on the concrete around her when her sunlight was right there, warming her heart in a way she’d never felt before. As they broke apart again, she couldn’t help but press her face against his chest. Her eyes became heavier by the second, but Lamina didn’t care. 

For just a moment, this boy was hers and hers alone. It was selfish, leaving him like this, but it was too late to change things now. Right there, in that mockery of an embrace, she couldn’t help but be selfish. Maybe, if she’d been in her right mind, she’d have prioritized him, but she was tired. All she wanted was to fall asleep in her love’s arms. All she wanted was to feel his heat and pretend they were back home. Up in their favorite tree where they always met, escaping the brutal realities of life to just be together. How she’d never realized the depths of her feelings before, Lamina wasn’t sure, but it didn’t matter now. 

“Can you… Can you sing? F- For me?” She begged him. “I’m… Tired…” 

“Mi… If you-” 

Something shattered in his eyes. Any kind of hope that she might make it out alive anyway seemed to finally die as he realized her time was up. Something she’d accepted long ago. Still, he didn’t stop trying to slow the bleeding of her wound. And Lamina loved him for it. She loved everything about him. She wished he would laugh so she could see him smile one last time, but she couldn’t ask that of him. Not now. All she could ask was to hear his sweet voice one last time. 

Perhaps it was cruel of her, asking him this when he was so clearly distraught, but she couldn’t help herself. Couldn’t help the need to hear him one last time. To fall asleep to that beautiful voice, knowing her Treech was still okay even if she wouldn’t wake up again. Despite the pain she was putting him through now, Lamina hoped he could give her this. That he could live for the both of them even though he thought he couldn’t. Everyone always underestimated his strength and resilience, even Treech himself. How she wished he could see himself through her eyes instead… 

“Is that what you want?” His voice was smaller than she’d ever heard before. “A lullaby?”

His voice cracked slightly at the last word, but he didn’t sound any less beautiful to her. Even when he’d cried himself hoarse, he still sounded impossibly melodic. Like some otherworldly entity had made him specifically for music. It wouldn’t surprise her in the slightest. Quietly, she nodded, and for a moment everything was quiet around them as he tried to find the perfect song for her. Finally, he began to sing. Hesitant, pained, but soothingly sweet. 

“When the sun has left the sky

We can go watch our stars align

Oh did you know the folks are saying

That it’s meant to be?” 

She recognized the song. It was a lullaby from back during the dark days. When it had only been a hopeful whisper spreading through the population, before all hell broke loose. Apparently, it hadn’t been contained to just the factory workers, if Treech knew about it despite growing up in the Fringe. It felt weird, hearing it again after all these years, but in a good way. It reminded her of better times. Of nights with her parents, when her dreams hadn’t seemed quite so out of reach yet. 

“They’re speaking through the old grapevine

That this is where we will draw the line

They’ll light the torches up and promise

that soon we’ll be free”

It felt nice to close her eyes and imagine a world in which the rebellion had worked. With Treech so close to her, singing to her, holding her like she was his entire word, she could almost believe it. Could almost convince herself the past few days had been nothing but a bad night terror he’d awoken her from. Lamina could picture a simpler life with him, where they could build a family together until they were old and frail, the cruelty they’d experienced all their loves nothing but a distant memory. 

But no, life wasn’t so kind. Not to them. Never to them. Maybe to Pup, or to Sejanus, or even to that blond bitch who dared call herself Treech’s mentor. The girl who’d undoubtedly walk away with that stupid prize despite having done nothing to deserve it, because life always seemed to be the kindest to people who didn’t deserve it. Or perhaps it was the lack of suffering that turned those people into monsters. Lamina didn’t know, and she didn’t care, because Treech was still singing and his honey-sweet voice always made everything better. 

“But that is a story for tomorrow

And today has yet to pass

So close your eyes my dearest darling

Come let sleep take you at last”

Life wasn’t kind to them, but life had given her this angel she could call hers for just a few minutes. Things couldn’t be that bad if he was with her… And Lamina didn’t want to die, of course not! But that’s the way the leaves colored and fell for her. Her tree of life had begun to rot the moment Treech had chosen her, and all she could hope was that, as the last of her blossoms finally drifted down to the earth, he could live to see another spring bloom. Even if he’d never be as vibrant as he’d once been. 

“When the fire’s been blown out

We’ll have to fight against our doubt

Trying to claim that it’s all hopeless

And doomed from the start”

As his singing slowly became more and more choked up with sobs, she couldn’t help but compare Treech to a weeping willow. The Fringe kids always used the bark as pain relief, either by brewing it into tea or just straight up chewing it, depending on how desperate they were. Treech had snuck out to get some for her, once, when she’d broken her ankle. It was still one of her fondest memories. To think he’d taken the time to care for her in the few hours of free time he had in a day… That he’d risked getting in trouble like that… He really was far too kind for her. 

“No matter how they scream and shout

I promise I’ll find us a new route

You will be safe here in my arms

And in my heart”

Her dad had told her the story of the weeping willow when she was younger. A tale of two young lovers who once danced on the river bank. The specifics changed with each telling, but the ending always remained the same. With one gone too soon, and the other weeping over their lover’s body until they became one with nature. Their grief turned them into the weeping willow, a beautiful tree with a tragic story that cries every time the rain drips down from its drooping branches and leaves. 

It was one of her favorite stories. There was a dark irony to it, knowing how her own story ended. Maybe, some day, Treech would write a play about her so they too could be remembered forever, just like the couple in the story of the weeping willow. Maybe he’d write a song about her that would live even when the world no longer knew their names. Maybe… If there was an afterlife… Maybe he’d even sing it for her too…

“But that is a story for tomorrow

And today has yet to pass

So close your eyes my dearest darling

Come let sleep take you at last”

Despite her heavy limbs, Lamina had never felt so light before, floating on a cloud surrounded by nothing but Treech. Comfortable like this, it was almost possible to forget what had happened. She wanted to forget. Staying in his embrace and letting his soft voice lull her to sleep was all Lamina could ask for in her last moments. It became harder to keep her eyes open, even though she wanted to see her sunlight for as long as possible. 

“Tomorrow’s a bright and hopeful morning

So come let the evening pass

Close your eyes now, darling dearest

Let this sleep take you at last”

It was an impossible choice… Looking at his pretty face for as long as possible, or giving in to the pull of sleep… Soon enough, the choice would be made for her, but for now… She just wanted to see him. To truly let it sink in that, in this fleeting moment, he was hers. It was never meant to last long, but it was true. One day, he’d move on from her and find someone new. He’d inevitably find happiness elsewhere, but that would happen in a future Lamina wouldn’t live to see. And that was okay, because she could die believing that this sun shone just for her. Perhaps it wasn’t healthy, being okay with dying for a teenage love, but… 

“I’ll be here when you awaken

Like I’ve been all mornings past

I’ll keep watch now, sweetest darling

Go let sleep in at last”

Her beautiful willow tree wept for her, those elegant leaves swayed in the breeze of their lost love and carried the soft melody of her love’s broken heart. And Lamina… Lamina floated in the gentle stream of his tears, carried along by the flow of the water into the sweet old hereafter. There, she’d wait on the riverbank, on the other side, until he joined her once more. Perhaps a changed man, perhaps exactly how she knew him now. It didn’t matter to her. She’d be waiting all the same. 

“I’m right here, my darling”

For the willow tree to stop its eternal mourning and follow her down the stream of eternal sleep. That sweet melody slowly faded away as she finally allowed her eyes to close. Warm skin pressed tighter against hers, but even that comforting sensation began to wane. 

“Sleep now, at last…”

Treech was safe… He would be okay… That’s all Lamina could have asked for. Her job in this world was done. Finally, she could rest her eyes and let the tides of life take her away. 

“My love…” 

She didn’t mind that it ended this way… Not anymore… 

“Sleep…” 

Chapter Text

Vipsania didn’t understand her tribute. 

He was an enigma on every level, someone so inherently different from her there was no way for her to solve the puzzles he threw at her. Those strange decisions and cryptic statements he made that continued to baffle her, no matter how much she tried to find the logical throughline in his actions. Maybe there was none. It would certainly be easier for her to write him off if that were the answer, but she couldn’t bring herself to take solace in such a simplistic answer. 

Not when, despite all his unfathomable thought processes and inexplicable choices, never once had he ever come off as a contradiction. Everything he did felt consistent, even if Vipsania couldn’t figure out what rules he played by. Maybe, a week ago, she wouldn’t have even cared enough to notice, but… Her world had changed so much in such a short time, and she’d changed with it. For better or worse, she wasn’t sure yet, but she had a feeling that it would be decided by however the games would end. 

His thirst for life seemed so incompatible with his refusal to let Lamina die, and yet they were both so like him that it almost hurt. Even before his sobs had quieted, he’d been busy tearing his vest to shreds to bandage her wounds and stop the bleeding. When Vipsania had sent him food, he hadn’t even taken a bite, and when she sent him water minutes later he only took a sip before putting the bread she’d gotten him into the bottle and shaking it until it became a thick slurry. It had confused everyone, at first, but then he brought the bottle to Lamina’s lips and gently tipped its contents down her throat. 

She couldn’t chew, so he improvised a stew to keep her fed. 

Even though it was clear Lamina would be lucky to survive the night, he still prioritized her and her health over his own when his chances of winning the games had just gone up exponentially. Why? Why? Had he forgotten about the family waiting on him back home? The friends he spoke of so warmly? Didn’t he remember that he had to live for his siblings and his parents? Did he just not care that he was handicapping himself for a dead girl?! 

Or did he just care about Lamina more? It felt impossible to Vipsania. No one in the Capitol would ever do something like this, but Treech didn’t even think twice about it. She could’ve written it off as stupidity, and maybe it was stupid, but she didn’t want to. Not when she knew better. He was smart, very much so, but he was also in love. Looking back on it, this really shouldn’t have been a surprise. Treech had readily given up his chance at a strong alliance just to stay by this girl’s side, of course he wouldn’t just let her die like this. It made sense, no matter how nonsensical it was in a situation like his. 

Vipsania wanted to resent him for it. For ruining her chance at the Plinth Prize over some girl who everyone had known would die ever since they saw her cry during the reaping ceremony. Just a week ago, she definitely would have, but now she knew better. Treech had far more reason to resent her than the other way around, and somehow… He didn’t. Not even a little, even if he didn’t necessarily like her either. Any Capitol citizen would have, and yet someone who was supposed to be lesser than them could find it in himself to still see the good in her. 

After being called subhuman, being treated like a tool, and getting slapped in the face, he still remained kind and understanding. 

It was so unlike everything Vipsania was used to that she hadn’t known how to respond to it, and she didn’t get it. Despite her attempts, she just did not understand him at all. Not because he wasn’t human, or because he was stupid or superstitious or different, but because he was a good person. A far better person than he should be, considering everything he’d been through in just 15 years of life. Not in the way Vipsania or her classmates were good, but actually good. 

In the Capitol, there was always a string attached. A deeper motivation, some goal to achieve. After all, they were only ever kind to those who could give in return. They were nice, not because it was the right thing to do but because it was a part of that perfect picture. The wealth, the success, the family name, the trophies… It all served to further status. Vipsania never would’ve been caught dead calling someone of lesser status her friend until she’d met Treech, and she knew her classmates were the same whether they admitted it or not. 

Everything was about the image, the idea, the prestige. Nothing ever just was. It had never even occurred to her that such a thing was even possible before until this district boy had come into her life and proven otherwise. There was nothing to gain from staying by Dill’s side, or entertaining a conversation with that boy from 10, or keeping Lamina alive, and yet he did it. Giving food away to the other tributes hadn’t done anything for them, yet the duo from 7 had reportedly done so in the zoo several times. They’d even given bread to those District 9 kids before they died! 

Treech could’ve easily survived the games without Vipsania’s help, and yet he saved her life during the bombing despite how horrible she’d been to him. Just because he could, and for some reason he’d decided that he should. Because she was a human being, he’d said, and that was more than enough for him. Because Treech was good, and good people saw value in life just for existing. Good people didn’t need personal reasons or ulterior motives to do good things, they just did it. Not to further a goal, but to bring some light to another’s day. 

(“We’re all stuck in the same boat, Vip,” Treech said, staring longingly at the classroom window. “Me and the other tributes.” 

“You’re going to be killing each other! Aren’t you worried you’re helping them build their strength before the games?” 

His head tilted, confusion radiating off of him like light from the sun. As if he genuinely didn’t understand what she was trying to say. Despite how capable she knew he was, how intelligent he’d proven himself to be, Treech still looked innocent in a way only a child could be. Not like Wovey or Dill, but not far off from it either. Vipsania hated it. She hated how he made it impossible for her to ignore that he was only 15. Three whole years younger than her, and already he was condemned to death for something that had happened when he was five. It wasn’t fair. 

“But we don’t have to kill each other yet.” 

“But you will !” 

For a moment, he remained silent. Observing her, considering how he was supposed to answer her. As if this was something so fundamentally, obviously true to him that he didn’t know how to go about explaining it to someone. Maybe it was, to him, but he didn’t act condescending or rude. Just unsure of how to proceed from here. Had the roles been reversed, Vipsania would have taken it as evidence that she was superior. She would have patted herself on the back for keeping the upper hand and praised herself to high heavens for being so much smarter than him, but he didn’t. He wasn’t mean enough to do that. 

“I know you don’t believe it, but Vip…” He paused, looking up at her with soft, sad eyes. “We’re all people, at the end of the day. None of us wanted to be here.”

He sighed, eyes drifting back towards the window. To the world outside, where he should’ve been free to walk around and explore to his heart’s content. Someone like him didn’t deserve to rot away in a zoo enclosure awaiting death. He should be out there, seeing the world and enjoying his life. His life… Something he still had so much left of… 

“It might seem strange to you, or stupid, but it’s not that simple for us. When you have so little… Even the smallest things mean the world, you know? There’s enough suffering in the world already, and adding to it won’t make it better for anyone. The least I can do is help make it feel a little more bearable, even if it’s only for a moment.”)

Wasn’t that ironic? That the Capitol, who were supposed to be far superior in every way to the districts, couldn’t even live up to what a district kid considered to be the very least one can do? Pathetic is what it was. Utterly pathetic. Forcing the memory back down, Vipsania tried not to think too hard about it. No amount of guilt or self-loathing would save Treech, because she’d been too focused on herself and this stupid school project to think about the life of a teenager, and now it was too late. Now all she could do was watch and hope, by some miracle, he’d still make it out of there alive. 

Even if, deep down, she knew he’d rather be dead than live in a world like this. 

It was selfish of her, but Vipsania couldn’t bring herself to care. He could hate the Capitol, he could hate his life, he could hate her if he wanted to, but as long as his heart kept beating it didn’t matter to her. If he was alive, he could learn to live again. There would be a chance, however small, for him to rebuild and learn to breathe again. Learn to love someone else, even if it would never be the same as it was with Lamina. It didn’t have to be as good to be something, and anything was good enough for her. 

And that was selfish, but she would never claim not to be. All she’d ever known to be was selfish, self-serving, self-centered. Sickles didn’t lose, that’s all she’d ever known. Nothing mattered as long as victory was hers. It was all about what suited her, what benefitted her, and Vipsania didn’t know how to be anything but what she’d always been. Selfish. Treech would never be the same after this, and she wouldn’t be either, but… At least he’d be alive. At least there would still be a chance for things to work out. At least she would only have to carry the weight of her conscience, and not the weight of his death too. 

That thought process was why, when Reaper rejoined the arena, all Vipsania could think of was how much longer it would take for Lamina to finally succumb to her injuries. As long as she was alive Treech wouldn’t give up on her, even if the boy from 11 decided to attack him. He couldn’t. For whatever reason, far beyond Vipsania’s comprehension, he just couldn’t do it. And it was horrible, it was cruel and it was heartless, but she couldn’t wait for Lamina Woudster’s face to disappear from the screens. It would destroy Treech, and it might even destroy Pup, but it would be better in the long run. 

Thankfully, Reaper didn’t attack. Not yet. Instead, he knelt down next to his own district partner with a grief far quieter than Treech’s had been. He held the girl’s hand in his own with far more gentleness than Vipsania had thought he could possess, whispering words in a voice too low for the microphone to pick up. It went on for only a few minutes, but then his head raised. His eyes found the microphone, burning with that same rage he’d had from the day he arrived. A deep resentment that had only worsened with the death of his sickly district partner. 

Then he’s standing up, one arm beneath the girl’s knees and one beneath her back, carrying her further into the arena. Towards the beams. Before Flickerman can even open his mouth to prattle to the audience as they hold their breaths, Reaper’s laying her down gently next to Marcus’s body. Slowly, he rises back up to his feet as if it physically pains him to do so, and then he’s moving again. Carrying Sol, carrying Bobbin, carrying Jessup, carrying Circ-

A scream of agony tore through the auditorium air. Whipping her head towards the noise, Vipsania felt her heart shatter when she saw Io’s stricken face. The poor girl’s hands were clasped in front of her mouth, tears rolling down her face like her world was crumbling around her. The same look that had been on Pup’s face when Lamina had been stabbed. As Reaper carefully placed the boy’s glasses back on his face, she could hear Io sob as she stumbled to her feet and ran out the door before Flickerman could even say a word. 

Circ must’ve died in the tunnels when there weren’t any cameras around. As another face was replaced by the seal of Panem, Reaper raised his head to look up at Treech. Neither of them spoke, at first. It reminded Vipsania of their short-lived truce from yesterday. This quiet understanding, almost a companionship, that only they could feel. Two kids in the same boat, refusing to hate each other in the way the Capitol wanted them to. And when Reaper spoke, he sounded nothing like the ruthless killing machine he was supposed to be. 

“Could you… Could you push them down, please?” He asked softly, without even a trace of the anger he’d had when he’d looked at the camera before. “They deserve better than this.” 

He gestured around him. At the arena they were dying in, at the remains of the ropes that had held Marcus’s mutilated body, and at the camera that had filmed everything for the Capitol’s entertainment. It took Treech a moment to respond, but then he carefully laid Lamina down on the crossbeam and pulled the last remains of his vest closer from where he’d left them in a heap after bandaging every wound he’d been able to find. He folded them up and placed them behind her head like a pillow before pushing himself to his feet. 

“Of course.” 

First he made his way towards Coral, removing the axe from her body before carefully pushing her towards the edge of the beam. And then she was falling, landing next to Jessup with a dull thud a couple of seconds later. Even with the distance and the slightly grainy footage, Vipsania could see her friend’s hands tremble where they hovered in the air as he stared over the edge. Still, he managed to get back to his feet and stumbled over to the other side of the beam, where Mizzen laid. For a moment, it looked like he’d be sick, but then the second body was falling down. 

Seven bodies laid beneath the beams. Laid out like this, weaponless and limp, they didn’t look anything like the animals they were supposed to be. They just looked like kids, because that’s all they were. It was all they would ever be. That’s why Treech had to make it out, because he deserved to be more than that. He was too good to be just another body beneath the beams. Except that meant Lamina would have to meet that exact fate, and Vipsania knew he would never let that happen. 

Without a word, Treech made his way back to his perch at Lamina’s side. After a bit of shuffling, he seemed to have gotten himself comfortable with his legs curled up beneath him and his hands holding hers. No matter how hard she tried, Vipsania couldn’t quite ignore the tightness in her chest at the sight. It all seemed so contradictory to Treech’s will to live. She knew he had dreams he wanted to achieve, a future he’d planned out, and yet… and yet, he was willing to throw it all away for this girl. 

“Treech? Can you…”

Reaper trailed off, seeming unsure of what to say. He raised his arm as if reaching out towards his fellow tribute, before thinking better of it and lowering it again. Almost as if he wanted to give comfort, but knew he couldn’t. It reminded her of what Treech had told her before the games. Two kids in the same boat, forced into a situation they didn’t want to be in. 

“Can you throw her down?” 

Beside her, Pup hissed through his teeth. When she glanced towards him, Vipsania couldn’t help but notice the way his fists were clenched so tight in the fabric of his pants that his knuckles were white. Surely, he’d come to terms with the fact that her death was a real possibility, right? As the son of a military general, Pup should know better than anyone how low the odds of his tribute’s survival were, so why did he act so surprised when it was brought up? 

“What? Why?” 

There was an edge to his voice now. A sharp tightness that hadn’t been there before. Not quite denial, but something close to it. Not anger at the implication of Reaper’s words, but something else. Something Vipsania couldn’t quite put a name to. It was… Defensive, almost. Thankfully, Reaper didn’t look like he’d taken offence to the tone at all. If anything, he almost looked regretful as he tried to push gently. 

“She- Treech, I’m sorry, but…” 

“No.”

Vipsania almost wanted him to just give in and throw her down already. Finishing the job like that probably wouldn’t do his mental state any favors, but it would be better than this slow, agonizing waiting game. Both for him and for Pup. After all, prolonging the inevitable like this didn’t make it any less inevitable. Had Vipsania been in his shoes, she probably would’ve just given Lamina the mercy of death and been done with it, but Treech wasn’t like her. 

He cared too deeply about that girl to do so. If he was willing to give up his future just so she could have hers, it made sense that throwing her down to her death was just about the last thing he was planning to do. To Vipsania, it made no sense at all, but she was selfish to her core and he just… Wasn’t. 

“Treech…”

“I’m not throwing her down, Reaper.”

“I know it’s hard, I do, but you have to let her-”

“No!” He screeched, clinging to the front of her vest like it was the only thing tethering him to this earth. Like he could somehow will her back to life with nothing but his own desperation. 

Reaper visibly flinched back at the sheer, raw emotion in that one word. A few in the auditorium did too, as the sound pierced straight through the wall between District and Capitol to stab into their hearts. For the first time since the start of the games, no one spoke. No whispers or laughs or even commentary from Flickerman. Nothing but the echo of grieving agony pressing down on them all. And Vipsania didn’t understand. She didn’t get it, didn’t get him, no matter how much she wanted to. 

“She’s not…” His voice quieted down to a broken whisper. “Not yet. She isn’t-”

Treech choked on his words like he couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud. As if saying the word ‘dead’ would somehow be the nail in Lamina’s coffin. If only she could’ve written it off as a superstition, maybe then she wouldn’t feel so guilty about letting him go into that arena knowing how much that girl meant to him. It wasn’t, though, and she knew it. Perhaps it was denial, or maybe some hopeless attempt at convincing himself there was a way to control a situation where he had no power. Or some third option she could never hope to guess correctly. Whatever it was, it wasn’t some ‘silly district practice’ or lowly, lesser form of thought. 

Even if Vipsania didn’t understand him, she knew that everything he thought and everything he did was purely, unbearably, heartbreakingly human. 

Perhaps that’s why she didn’t get it. Could it be that it was the very humanity she’d believed he couldn’t have that made him so different from her? That he grieved for a girl he was supposed to slaughter without second thought so deeply as to almost throw away not just his chance to win, but his chance to survive, was something a Sickle like her just couldn’t relate to. It had always been about being the best to her, about coming out in first place and lining the walls of her family’s mansion with even more trophies. Only when Treech came into her life did she begin to wonder what any of those trophies even meant to her. 

He was nothing like that. 

“What about your mentor?” Reaper tried. “You said she got better, right? You’d call her a friend?” When he received a nod of confirmation, he continued. “If you won’t live for your girlfriend, would you live for Sickle?” 

It seemed to stop Treech short, for just a moment. 

“Vip told me she’s never lost before,” he said quietly, “but there’s a first time for everything, isn’t there?” 

His gaze lifted away from Lamina, towards the sky. A pin could’ve dropped in the auditorium, and everyone would’ve heard except for Vipsania. She could only see or hear Treech. Her tribute. Her friend. The boy who was kind to her, no matter how many times she’d failed him. The one who’d taught her what real compassion was, what kindness was, in a world that had convinced her she had nothing left to learn. All her life, she’d been sure she knew everything there was to know, until he’d come in and dashed the carefully constructed golden palace where she’d been raised to pieces. 

He’d torn down every wall made of lies and delusion, crashing through the guarded doors of her heart just to show her there was more to life than this road carved by nameless ancestors and paved with a thousand empty trophies she couldn’t even remember achieving. There was a life beyond this endless chase for more status. One that gave her actual satisfaction. One without a constant desire for more, more, more until there was nothing left to gain. And now she was watching him lose his whole world, and his mind with it. Watching, but never interfering. 

What a friend she was. 

“She made her choice when she chose to participate in this sick, sadistic little school project of hers. Victory was more important to her than the lives of children, back then.” 

“And now?” 

“Now I’m the bet that she lost in the reaping, and she’ll have to learn to live with it.” 

“And what if she can’t? What if she’ll lose no matter what she does?” 

His eyes moved towards the camera, gaze piercing through her even from all those miles away. Even the distance between him and the camera did nothing to lessen the sheer depth of those dark brown irises. Something akin to bitterness lit them up like a bonfire, but even now Vipsania couldn’t say she saw ill intent. Even now, he held no contempt. Not even when he was losing everything did he give in to hate the way everyone in the Capitol had, because even now he was a better person than all of them combined could ever hope to be. 

“Then she’ll know what it’s like to be us.” 

And when she looked into his eyes, alive and aflame with emotions stronger than she thought one person could ever feel, she knew it was true. There was no winning for him, no matter what he did. It was the grave or the dead man’s march. A bright future lost or a life devoid of light. For Treech, there was only darkness at the end of the road. An arena Vipsania had allowed the Capitol to throw him into, because she was selfish. She’d wanted to have her cake and eat it, to have her friend and win her prize, without ever stopping to wonder what that meant for him. Not once did she consider how he’d feel about it or what he’d have to go through even in the best case scenario. That even if he survived, he would still lose. He’d go down, no matter what. 

And whether he wanted to or not, he’d take Vipsania right down with him. Neither of them had wanted to care about each other, but somewhere along the line Treech had gone from a tool for victory to a friend. At some point, she’d started to care, and there was nothing Vipsania could do now to come back from that. Worst of all, she knew it was the least she deserved for ever letting the Capitol throw him in there. For being so heartless and short-sighted to not only consider his victory a guarantee, but to think he could ever just move on from what was happening in the arena. 

No matter how many dreams he had or how much he wanted to live, he would never truly be able to let this go. For the first time, she wondered if he prioritized her survival over his own wasn’t just because he loved her, but because the future he fought for had her in it. Maybe the reason his lust for life could co-exist with his refusal to let her die was because he couldn’t imagine that life without her. To Treech, a future without her wasn’t a future worth fighting for. 

He kept her alive because he couldn’t live without her. Because he loved her too much to lose her, even though he’d lose her one way or another. Either she died, or he did. A selfish kind of selfless. It was an oxymoron, but it was true. Moreover, it was stupid , because he was just a teenager and young love didn’t last like that. He was throwing away his future for a girl who he probably wouldn’t have grown old with anyway, but Vipsania knew that was easy to say and hard to live by. 

Especially for Treech, who felt so much and loved too easily for his own good. 

Or, a small part of her mind whispered, maybe Vipsania was just heartless. The Capitol was heartless, cold and cruel and self-serving, and she was a part of it. Undeniably so. Treech was gentle at heart, that much was true, but maybe the stone in her own heart was why his actions confused her. Young love may not last, but that didn’t mean it was any less real. It was hard to deny that, when Treech’s heart-shattering screams still echoed in her head. 

As Treech buried his face in Lamina’s neck, Vipsania couldn’t help but think back to the interview, that last night before the games. When he’d told the story of how they’d met. Their love had been growing for years, and they’d circled around each other for much longer before that. They didn’t need to be in love for her death to destroy him. If she’d been a kinder person, Vipsania might’ve seen that earlier. If she’d been more like Treech, she might’ve even done something about it. 

But she wasn’t, so she didn’t. 

And now she was going to lose. For the first time in her life, she was about to lose, and Treech was the one who’d pay the price. It wasn’t fair. He deserved better than that. He deserved better than her, but he wasn’t going to get it because Vipsania was a selfish, heartless bitch who’d been fine with children dying for some stupid prize that meant nothing to her, until it started to affect her too. She hadn’t cared until she’d started to care about Treech, and even then she hadn’t understood him. Only now was she beginning to, if only theoretically. And even now, she managed to make it all about her. 

Vipsania Sickle was a horrible person, and she wouldn’t even be the one to suffer the consequences for it. No, Treech would be the one to shoulder the burden of her cruelty. He was the one who’d pay for her selfish desire to have the glory, for her delusional belief that the games were actual games she could play and win. At the end of the day, it was him who would lose the life he’d dreamed of no matter what he did. All because Vipsania had let him go in there so she could have her cake and eat it. Have her victory and the boy she’d grown to care for. Even with his life on the line, she’d been too selfish to prioritize him over a prize she didn’t need and glory she’d forget about in a year. Some friend she was.

She was horrible. Truly, honestly despicable. And still, Treech believed in her. That realization killed something in her, and she barely even noticed Reaper when he finally gave up and walked away from the beams. She wasn’t even appalled or horrified when he tore down the flag, even though she knew she probably should be. All Vipsania could focus on was the boy she’d failed. Still, something stung in her chest when she saw Clemensia’s tribute pull the blood red fabric over the bodies of the fallen tributes. Even one of the supposedly most brutish tributes managed to be more empathetic and caring than the kindest Capitol citizen had ever dreamed of being. 

It really wasn’t hard, was it? To show humanity in the darkest of days. To give grace and mourn for strangers, just because they were people too. Because they all had people waiting for them to come home, they all had families and friends and communities they fought to return to. ‘We’re all in the same boat,’ Treech had told her. Every time she watched the tributes interact, that statement made a little more sense. They would have to kill or be killed eventually, but there was still the ‘until then’. And until then, Treech would rather be kind than cruel. Reaper would rather give dignity than take it. Lamina would rather make death quick than prolong someone’s suffering. Because no one truly had control over who would survive the Hunger Games, not even the mentors. No matter how much the mentors wanted to believe it, they didn’t truly control what would happen. 

And when Lucy Gray came out to collect her sponsor gifts, when a figure crept up behind her and a blade pierced through that beautiful rainbow dress, that became clearer than ever. The tribute with the most sponsors was gone, just like that, and none of Coriolanus’s efforts had done anything to stop it from happening. The mentors had been a way to get eyes on the game and nothing more. They had no control, no say, nothing but their delusional belief that things would work out well for them. And when Tanner began to carry her body to Reaper’s makeshift morgue, she 

  “What?!” Coriolanus screeched, voice pitched so high Vipsania wondered how he hadn’t shredded his vocal cords. “No! This- This can’t be! There has to be some kind of mistake!” 

Glancing over at her classmate briefly, Vipsania wondered if he was in as much denial as Treech was. For just a moment, she could see him clinging to his tribute the way her friend clung to Lamina. Except the redhead was still alive, even if it wouldn’t last much longer. There was still a chance, the slimmest of possibilities, that she’d make it to the final two. There was no maybe in Lucy Gray Baird’s glassy eyes or empty gaze, only what-ifs of what could’ve been in a different world. 

Moreover, there were no tears in Coriolanus’s eyes. There was only blind, unending rage in his face. She’d never seen him like this, but for some reason it didn’t seem out of character. It was a more extreme, perhaps more honest version of how he always was. That was the biggest distinguishing factor between him and her friend. Even in the darkest of times, Treech would never be warped into something so ugly as the boy raging for the whole country to see, that Vipsania was certain of. He was far too kind, too sweet down to his core to ever become so rotten. 

“I’m sure this defeat is rather… chilling for you, Mr. Snow,” Flickerman drawled, chuckling at his own pun, “so go warm up and enjoy your summer! Goodnight.” 

“No! This isn’t how things were supposed to go!” Coriolanus continued. “Lucy Gray was meant to win! There’s no other way! I deserve this!” 

No amount of self control could fully suppress the anger igniting in her veins at his ignorant, foolish, self-serving words. He deserved this? Please! He hadn’t even done anything noteworthy! It was all his tribute and her charming performance that had made her such a fan-favorite to win, Coriolanus hadn’t had a hand in that! The best he’d done was get that guitar for her, and even then he’d only asked around for one. It’s not like he made the thing himself or even bought it, Treech helped make guitars for a living. He went to the lumberyards to harvest the wood and bled away in his father’s workshop to put it together, along with beautifully decorated boxes and unbelievably detailed figurines and a million other things Vipsania had taken for granted all her life. 

Coriolanus didn’t deserve anything as much as Treech deserved it, and something about his words made Vipsania’s skin crawl. He’d seemed so attached to his tribute before, but now he didn’t even look the slightest bit torn up about her death. Angry, yes, but not sad like she’d expected him to be. And the way he was talking… It wasn’t about her or what she deserved, it was all about him. About what he wasn’t getting. Even as he continued to rave, not a single word was dedicated to the girl who’d just died. Everything was about Coriolanus. It made Vipsania feel sick. That had been her just a week ago. It could’ve been her, acting like this, had Treech not forced her to see beyond what she’d been taught. 

“I worked so hard for that prize! It can’t… It can’t end like this… I won’t let it end like this! I won’t allow it!” 

“That’s not your call to make.” Flickerman didn’t even try to sound interested at all in Coriolanus’s temper tantrum. “Your girl’s gone, game over, goodbye.”

“No, I refuse to accept this!” 

By the second, he came across more and more like a toddler that hadn’t been told ‘no’ enough times in his life. What made him think he’d worked harder than everyone else in the room to get his tribute out of there? Sure, not all the mentors had been as invested as, say, Sejanus, but all of them had wanted to be the winner. Even before her reasons had become so… personal, Vipsania had been determined to win the Plinth Prize. What made Coriolanus think he was better than her? What made him think he was better than Pup, who’d seen his tribute’s humanity early on and softened up towards her to the point of openly showing his devastation when she’d been struck? 

What about Persephone, poor Pippa, who’d ran out of the room sobbing when Mizzen had been killed and hadn’t stopped crying for even a second? She was completely inconsolable and had even screamed at her father for daring to imply her tribute had been ‘just some district kid’. Or Felix, who was openly distraught at having to watch Treech sing young, vulnerable Dill to sleep for the last time, deserved to see his tribute again just as much as everyone else. Or Sejanus, who’d tried to convince them of the horrors of the games for years. Who was better than all of them combined, even if they were only starting to realize that harsh truth now. Who’d endured years of exclusion and bullying from their classmates, but had never given up on them. Who had kept trying to show them the truth because he’d believed they were good people deep down. He’d never given up, no matter how many times they’d proven to him that they didn’t deserve his faith. What about him? Did he not deserve to see someone he clearly cared about deeply make it back to the home they once shared? 

What made Coriolanus think he deserved this more than everybody else? The fact that he turned up at the station and got himself thrown into the zoo? As if causing such a scene had been actual effort! It was unbelievable. This whole display was an embarrassment not only to Coriolanus and his family, but to the Academy as a whole. Even Festus had accepted his loss with a modicum of grace, simply turning around from where he’d stood up at the start of the fight and walking out of the room in silence. And here was Coriolanus Snow, son of a formerly prestigious and important family, screaming and making demands like it would change what had already happened. Watching Reaper drag the girl with the rainbow dress underneath the flag only seemed to make Coriolanus even more angry as he refused to leave the room. 

“I’m not leaving! Lucy Gray was clearly the most entertaining, so I’m still the winner! I need that prize, I deserve it! I-”

“Broke the rules.” 

A deadly silence swept up the room like the eye of a storm. A cloud of anticipation, loaded up with electricity and ready to devastate the land below with a hail of lightning. And the one holding the killing bolt was none other than Dean Highbottom, who strolled into the room at a leisurely pace, effortlessly commanding the attention of everyone watching. Vipsania frowned, because surely that had to be a mistake, right? Coriolanus… Sure, he was being insufferable, and it was grating to see someone be even more of a sore loser than herself, but surely he’d known better than to cheat, right? He wasn’t stupid. 

Right?

Except Coriolanus looked… pale. Panicked, almost, no matter how well he tried to hide it. He looked guilty. Her fingers twitched, hands slowly clenching into fists as she focused on the screen again. On the footage which once again showed her tribute. Her friend. Her sweet, kind, unbearably young Treech Meran, who loved acting and wrote songs about love and life and home and gushed about his siblings. Who cuddled up to his girlfriend in the zoo when the stares became too much. Who’d tried to get to know her even after she’d hit him in the face, because that’s just the kind of person that he was. Who should be in a warm bed with a nice warm meal instead of down there, sacrificing his own food and water to try and keep his beloved alive for just a few more minutes. 

Who might lose his life soon, and if Coriolanus had done anything to make that outcome more likely than it had already been… Beside her, she could see Pup tense up. Ready to move, to act on the fire she could see start to burn in his eyes as the implication of Dean Highbottom’s words began to sink in. His tribute was actively dying, and to think that Coriolanus may in some way have had a hand in it… It might not be direct involvement, but Vipsania had seen first-hand how big the domino effect of actions could be. It had killed two tributes and mortally wounded another in the span of mere seconds only a couple of hours ago.

“While I would have waited until after the games, seeing as your tribute is dead now I see no reason to prolong the inevitable,” Highbottom stated calmly. “Please follow me, Mr Snow, for I believe a… discussion, about your actions, is in order.” 

Before Coriolanus could even open his mouth, two peacekeepers came in to escort him out. Behind them, the audience began to whisper. Rumor and speculation filled the air, thicker than even the tension left in her classmate’s wake. Highbottom whispered something to Flickerman, whose eyes widened as he nodded in understanding, and then the dean was gone again. The door closed behind the group with a thud, leaving the audience to wonder what exactly was happening. 

“Apologies for the interruption,” Flickerman tried to put on his best TV smile as he faced the nearest camera, “after a more thorough investigation into the actions of Mr Snow, the verdict on these accusations will be made public. Just know they were not made lightly!” 

Trying to shake off the events that had just unfolded, Vipsania glanced at the screens with the remaining tributes and their sponsor counts. With Lucy Gray gone, Treech was now well and far in the lead on donations. With his biggest competition in terms of popularity gone, he would surely pull up even further soon, which meant it didn’t matter if Treech kept feeding his girlfriend all of his food, because Vipsania had more than enough money to make sure he had plenty for both of them. Eventually, he’d take some himself. Probably. 

It was hard to truly predict what he would do, because Vipsania didn’t understand him. Thinking like he did was impossible, because he was too kind. Too caring and too giving. Too far removed from everything Vipsania had ever known to be true for her to get a good grasp on. And maybe that’s what made him so much better than anything she could ever hope to be. Even when he had every reason to be mean, to be cruel and violent, he wasn’t. Not really. He stole and he fought and he bled, but still he found it in himself to be kind, if only just for a moment. 

Professor Gaul would argue that it was only small moments, that they didn’t matter. What mattered is that he’d murdered Coral in cold blood when he’d been cornered. What mattered is that all four tributes involved in the fight had been ready to kill. However, it was hard to think about that when Reaper took the time to give all the dead tributes some dignity in their deaths, even though he didn’t have to. Even though he was still cornered, because the Capitol still held him in that arena to fight to the death. It was hard to think of anything but the agonized sobs Treech had let out for hours after Lamina had lost consciousness. The songs he’d sang for her and his broken whispers recounting stories until his voice was gone. 

No, Vipsania could proudly say she’d gotten to the point where she would argue Gaul was wrong. Maybe those kind moments were small, maybe they meant nothing to the audience watching, but she could see that for the tributes they meant everything. Even when the Capitol brought them here to fight each other, they found moments to go against it all. To resist the games they were forced to play and just be… Normal kids. Just for a short time, but a time nonetheless. That it happened at all proved Gaul wrong. For supposed “vile beasts”, those kids sure made the Capitol look like the inhuman ones. 

For someone who wasn’t supposed to know loyalty or love the way those from the Capitol did, Treech made it seem so painfully easy to be so idiotically, endearingly, heartbreakingly selfless. 

There was nothing for him to gain in keeping Lamina alive, and yet he still gave up things he desperately needed to do just that. Despite their claims of being good, moral people, Vipsania knew for certain that none of her classmates would do such a thing. They might not start fighting immediately, they’d be hesitant to kill each other, but… Not a single tribute had killed their district partner so far, so perhaps that didn’t mean nearly as much as they all liked to think it did. Besides, if she was honest with herself, Vipsania could admit she would probably kill someone she didn’t know if she was in the games. And that… That made her worse than some of those tributes. 

Briefly, she thought back to the first Hunger Games. The one people liked to ignore when they talked about how barbaric those tributes proved the districts to be. Everyone, including herself, always talked about the games in a vacuum. Like those kids would behave like this outside of the arena, even if the fact that they made it into the arena at all without killing each other in the zoo or in the train already disproved that idea. No one ever brought up how the first set of kids had tried to refuse already. They’d thrown down their weapons and screamed in rebellion and wouldn’t obey the commands of the gamemakers to start killing. 

No one had left the arena alive that year. 

Shot. All of them. The peacekeepers had mowed them down with a hail of bullets, killing them all. From what she’d heard, the bodies had been hung up in their home districts until they’d rotted away. A lesson on what happened if the tributes did not obey. Nobody talked about it in the Capitol, that last part hadn’t even been publicized. Vipsania only knew because Lamina had mentioned it to Pup at some point. He’d gone looking through his dad’s records and found out the details later. They could’ve gone their whole lives never knowing about it, because the Capitol didn’t deem it important enough to mention. 

Because the districts were barbaric, they weren’t human, and as long as that was proven it didn’t matter. As long as the Capitol could feel superior and the Districts were kept down, who cared about the truth? Even when everything they saw proved that wrong. Even when all it took was paying attention for more than a minute to realize the only barbarians were the Capitolites watching children die like a reality TV show. The true monsters were those who were heartless enough to convince themselves that others didn’t deserve a good life, just because they weren’t born in the right place. 

Treech wasn’t barbaric, nor was he a monster. Vipsania was. 

It wasn’t a hard conclusion to come to, because when small, skeletal Wovey came out of the tunnel only to collapse after a mere sip of water, she knew she’d have left the young girl there. Another obstacle removed in her path to victory. But Treech didn’t do that. He was too kind to do that. Instead, he left his place at Lamina’s side for the first time in over a day, stumbling over to the small figure before Reaper had even fully processed what had happened. He fell to his knees at her side, lifting her up in his sunburnt arms and carrying her over to the beams before gently placing her down where Reaper had lifted the flag. 

Reaper whispered words again, Treech touched his hands to his heart and bowed low to the ground before climbing back up to the crossbeam to continue caring for his district partner. They grieved, even for the tributes they didn’t know, because they could. Because they felt like the others deserved it. Because they were all in the same boat, and because it didn’t cost them anything to treat each other as human beings. Even at their supposed worst, they were far more human than the Capitol pretended it was. 

It should’ve taught her something about the districts, or about these tributes at the very least, but Vipsania didn’t dare think about it for too long. She couldn’t afford to start feeling sympathy for the other tributes, because they all would have to die. Even now, when she knew her friend would never truly be able to live again when his love died in his arms, Vipsania hoped he would be the one to walk out of the arena. Even though she’d lose no matter what, she hoped he would be the one left alive at the end. It was wrong, and it was selfish, but she could live with that. 

As long as Treech was alive to hate her for it, she didn’t mind being selfish. She didn’t care if she was cruel, cold, or heartless. At the end of the day, Vipsania Sickle was a horrible person. She was a monster through and through. That truth had been set in stone the moment she’d allowed the peacekeepers to drag her from the zoo so they could take Treech away in the morning. And she could live with that, as long as she didn’t have to see the last sparks of life leave his eyes. Even if that spark was made of hatred towards her, she’d do anything to keep it aflame.

And she knew, watching Treech readjust the small scrap of flag to protect Lamina from the sun, that he was too selfless to ever be okay with any of that. And when he sang his songs in the dead of night with three new verses to honor the lost lives, she knew he was too forgiving to even consider hating her for any of it. That realization was all she needed to know that, for once, she didn’t feel even a modicum of guilt for being selfish. 

There was guilt, of course. For not going to the zoo, for letting him starve, for all the horrible things she’d said to him, for leaving him to fight for his life even after he’d saved hers without a second thought, for ever letting him believe she didn’t care about him, and a million other things. But not for wanting him to make it out alive. Not for hoping her classmates would suffer the grief of losing their tributes like Pippa and Io. Not even for what Sejanus must be going through, losing someone he’d known once upon a time. 

Because the selfish needed the selfless like the earth needed the sun. Because Vipsania cared about him, and even if he never wanted to talk to her again, at least she wouldn’t have to watch him be buried too young. Broken was better than dead, even if the cracks were unfixable. A shattered soul could find a way to put itself together. Perhaps the patterns would be different, slightly misshapen and unstable, but together nonetheless. Her eyes slid away from the screen and towards the door Coriolanus had been led through, before moving over to Gaul’s pinched expression. 

Vipsania needed Treech to live, because even if he wasn’t happy, he’d be there. Because he was everything she wished she could be, and he didn’t deserve to die for her inability to be anything other than the monster she’d been taught to be. Because he was her friend, and she couldn’t bear to lose him. Because she was selfish, and she didn’t understand how someone could be selfless like Treech no matter how hard she tried. All she knew was how to be cutthroat. How to wish her classmates would suffer just so she wouldn’t have to. How to wish 23 children dead so the one she cared about would live. 

She didn’t understand the world of the tributes, but she understood the world of the Capitol. She understood the way of words and ulterior motives and manipulation. It might be too late for her to truly get Treech or the way his effortless kindness mixed with that burning, bitter fire in his eyes, but it wasn’t too late for her to be better. Not because there was something in it for her, but because she felt like Treech deserved better, and for the first time in her life that was enough for her to want to do something about it. Vipsania couldn’t achieve this victory, but maybe she could give Treech the closest thing to it. 

And so, against everything she’d ever been taught, contrary to everything she’d always thought she should do, she stood up to face the audience and opened her mouth, ready to fight every false truth the Capitol had ever fed her. 

It wasn’t selfless or born of helpless rage like the tributes in the arena. It wasn’t righteous rage like Sejanus. It wasn’t even kind. All it was, was her selfish desire to be the lucky one. Not the winner, but the person who saw their friend come home. The one mentor of 24 who wouldn’t have to grieve. She’d give anything to never have to see Treech Meran’s grave in her lifetime. 

And to that end, Vipsania Sickle stared directly into the camera, and rebelled.