Renegades | DSMP x Hunger Games Crossover

VII. End of the Line

Narrator: Ranboo Economidis

In which a boy learns that teleportation isn't always so great.

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Warnings:

Mentions of death

Mentions of violence

Injury

Crappy writing

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   I clamp a shaky hand over my mouth to prevent myself from crying out. Mentally, I curse the capitol. Out of any side effect I could have gotten, it had to be a water allergy. Is allergy the right word? Who even cares? Water... Aversion? I don't know. This really isn't a good time to be thinking about the meanings of words. My point is, falling into a river is one of the most painful things I've ever had the misfortune of doing.

    Stupid capitol. Stupid capitol. Stupid gosh dang capitol. I collapse against a tree, still trying not to make any noise. I move my hand away from my mouth, trusting myself to stay quiet. With my now-free hand, I reach into my jacket pocket for the knife I'd shoved in there earlier.

    My hand connects with sharp metal. In hindsight, maybe putting an unsheathed knife in my pocket wasn't the best idea. I completely fail to comprehend the pain of grabbing a blade, pulling the knife out and switching it to my right hand. Only when I tighten my left hand into a fist and feel my hand start stinging do I remember that blood burns me as well, being mostly water. I hiss in pain, wiping the blood from the fresh cut on the grass. Did I get that from grabbing the knife, or is it older than that? I wonder. I push the thought out of my head, reminding myself that I have more important things to worry about.

    Slowly, I try to pull up the bottom of my pant leg to assess how bad the injury is. The mild pain of touching the still-wet fabric is nothing compared to how bad the flare of pain is when that fabric slides across my burns. I accidentally bite my tongue when I snap my mouth shut to keep myself from screaming. That draws blood, which tastes like metal. For whatever reason, water doesn't burn the inside of my mouth, but biting myself sure does.

    The faint sound of footsteps coming through the woods scares me half to death. When I get scared, I teleport. Apparently my brain hates me today, because I end up with my legs half in the river again. I teleport back a couple feet, just enough to stay safely out of the water. I curl my legs up to my chest, burying my face in my knees. The footsteps get louder and louder. I cover my ears with my hands to block it out. That doesn't help. The footsteps are still there. I dig my fingers into my head to try and ground myself. Despite that, the sound of footsteps hitting the ground echoes through my brain, getting louder and louder and louder and louder and louder and-

    "Hello?" My head snaps in the direction of the voice. A boy stands there, an axe pointed halfway between me and the ground like he's trying to decide whether I'm dangerous or not. He has brown fluffy hair. It reminds me of chocolate. He has scars on his face and neck that look like they came from some sort of explosion.

    "If you're going to kill me, just do it and get it over with!" I exclaim. My voice is a lot shakier than I'd like it to be.

    "I'm not going to kill you. Not in the mood right now," he responds, dropping the axe to his side.

    "Oh. That's- That's good, I think," I mumble.

    "It is good. You're Ranboo, right? I saw you on the TV when we all got scores."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

    "You're telling me that you detonated a bomb and lived?" I ask incredulously.

    "I did! Not only did I live, I also got off with only these scars as a reminder not to do that again," the boy, who I now know as Tubbo, says, grinning at me.

    "That's a lie! My scars are from crying and/or bleeding!" I say. He laughs at me, and I playfully smack him.

    "Ay, don't hit me! I can throw more water at you," Tubbo tells me.

    "Please don't, actually," I reply. He smiles at me, silently saying no promises.

    I start fiddling with the bandage on my hand. Tubbo had offered to help me bandage up my various wounds if I promised to be his ally. There was absolutely no reason to say no. So here we sit, leaning up against a tree and talking about life in general. Talking about life is somewhat painful. I didn't have much going for me in District 7, considering that my parents are who-knows-where and I didn't really have any friends, but that doesn't mean it was all bad. I was allowed to live alone, so that was cool.

    "HELLO? Do I have to spray you? Hellooo?" Tubbo waves a hand in my face, laughing slightly.

    "Sorry. I just miss it, you know? The simplicity," I say softly.

    "Forget about that, big man. Now we have chaos, and it's so much more fun!" he grins. I laugh.

    "Why didn't you kill me?" I ask.

    "I told you. I wasn't in the mood. Besides, killing somebody who could put up a fight would be so much more entertaining."

    "Fair. I mean, I think you're crazy, but I can get behind not wanting to kill somebody who's completely helpless."

    We fall silent. All that I can hear is the sound of the river running and the wind whistling softly through the trees. It's nice, in a weird way. Tubbo leans against me, and I can feel the warmth of his jacket through mine. And we sit in comfortable silence, listening to the sounds of nature and letting ourselves forget that we're in an arena to be slaughtered for the entertainment of some privileged white guy. It's not the end of the line, not yet.

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(980 Words)

A/N: I KNOW THIS CHAPTER IS SHORTER AND WORSE THAN USUAL BUT I RAN OUT OF IDEAS
P.S. THIS ISN'T A SHIP THING SHIPPING MINORS IS VERY WEIRDCHAMP DON'T DO THAT

Positive message of the chapter: Everything's going to be okay. I don't know how long it will take, but you'll be okay.