Against the Odds (A Crossmare Fanfiction)

Bandages

Again, thanks for 2k, I've decided now what I'm doing for it uwu

❤️💜32 I like Winnie the Pooh💜❤️

Everything from then on happened in a blur. He could remember the deafening sound of a helicopter's blade, the giant machine thundering towards them a few minutes after they'd pulled their little berry stunt and been crowned the winners.

The two of them had been grabbed harshly and ripped from each other, bundled off into the helicopter and flown out of the arena. The people on board hadn't said a word to them, cold and silent. They didn't seem happy. Every time they said anything they either shot them down or didn't respond.

The flight had only lasted fifteen minutes before they were dragged out again and shoved onto similar beds that ambulances use for collections. They were wheeled into a large complex with countless twists and turns before finally being strapped down onto a medical bed.

So here Cross was, hyperventilating as strangers tightened the bindings that kept him down and tore his clothes off carelessly. They poked and prodded all his injuries, earning muted gasps and whimpers of pain. They weren't being careful, it was if their pokes were channeled specifically to provoke those wounds further.

No one seemed to care for the panicked oreo's mental well-being, just calling back to a tall dark haired nurse with a clipboard and talking in medical terms that he had no hope in understanding.

His pupils darted about frantically and rested on someone he recognised as they wheeled in a tray full of all sorts of sharp objects and syringes and small glass vials of what looked like pure nightmare fuel. It was one of the people who'd cleaned him down in the very beginning, before he'd even gone into the Hunger Games. The heavily accented Russian one that had let him keep his locket.

He tried to say something but the words died in his throat as a woman stood over him, a large syringe twice as big and scary as the one Nightmare used held in her hand. "H-Hey, what's in that?"

"Nothing you need to worry about." He said, smiling sweetly at him before plunging it deep into his arm.

Cross screamed.

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He woke up with a gasp, sitting up abruptly and clutching his chest. It felt as if his front was on fire, a burning pit building up in his chest and trying to break free. It was painful.

Looking around quickly, he realised he'd been moved. Now he sat in a room with completely white walls, no furniture and no wall hangings. Just white. The floor was made entirely of white polished tiles, not a scratch or blemish on them. An iron door stood at the end of the room, looming high and firm. A small rectangular window gave him a small view out into a corridor, but he couldn't see anything happening. The room was completely silent, only the sound of his soft breathing echoing off the tiles.

Groaning softly under his breath, Cross looked down at himself to see what those horrible doctors had done to him after knocking him unconscious.

The whole entirety of his arms were covered in thick, white bandages, splotches of red already making their way through the fabric and staining. His legs were similar, but with a lot less bandages and more plasters. His legs had only really ever got scratched, ignoring both thighs that had at least seven layers of bandage. His neck also had the protective fabric around it, a result of when Dream had held the knife to his neck. Plasters were littered over his skull, one of them being stuck over the bridge of his nose. It made it itch and tickle, but he didn't dare try pull it off. His chest was stiff and turning was impossible, so he assumed they'd done a lot to that after those dogs had messed him up.

But apart from all those horrible injuries, he seemed okay. Yes he had a horrible thumping headache and his body hurt all over, but he could be worse. Like Nightmare...

Nightmare.

Despite having already looked round all the room, Cross searched for any sign of the goopy skeleton. Nope. He wasn't here.

Then a click rang out, and before Cross could panic any more than he already was, the door swung open with a bang.

He froze and stared at the two figures that walked in, only to deflate from relief right after. "Horror! Lust!"

The two skeletons ran over, Lust pulling Cross into a big hug and and muttering incoherent nonsense into his skull. Horror stood by his side, simply deciding to rest a hand on Cross' knee.

"You were so brave out there, sweetheart..." He breathed, hands shaking slightly as he brushed one over his skull. "So, so brave, both of you..."

Cross looked at the two of them, returning the hug weakly. "Thanks, b-but where's Nightmare?"

Horror smiled sympathetically at him, shaking his head. "He's fine Cross, I promise. He's just still in surgery right now, having his shoulders and hip fixed up."

"O-Oh, okay." He shivered, pulling the thin hospital gown over his arms and legs a bit more. "When can I see him?"

"When the doctors way so."

He looked down at the floor. "Um, am I allowed to leave here?"

Lust stood back, offering a smile. "Of course you can, and Em will be waiting in the penthouse with some new, less bland clothes." He shuddered slightly, clearly as equally unimpressed as Cross was with the clothes he'd been given.

"Good." He gladly took both of their outstretched hands, standing and hobbling over to the doorway with his two mentors aiding him. "Thanks guys."

"No problem, Cross." Horror said, patting him on the back. "What you did out there was stupidly reckless, and the Gamekeepers are absolutely furious, but you made it."

"They're furious?" He frowned, looking at him. "Why?"

"Well, where do I start? One, you start an uprising in District Eleven for what you did for Blue, two, you aid in killing off six key Tributes, three, you refuse to fight at the end, and four, you managed to trick them. And trust me Cross if there's one thing the gamekeepers and ones in charge can't stand, it's being tricked."

"Wh- I didn't know that would anger them so much! I was too caught up in the moments to worry about what the stupid president has to think!" He said, clenching his bandages fingers into fists.

"We know Cross." Lust cut in, glaring at Horror. "But they don't care about how caught up you were, you've broken the rules and lived. They can't have that."

"So they're going to kill me?!"

"No Cross, but you're going to have to act like your life depends on it - which it does - you understand? You were so in love with that boy that the thought of leaving him was worse than death, okay? You're going to have to sell this story if you want any hope of convincing the entire of Panem and the President included." Horror stared at him, narrowing his eyes.

"If not, they'll find some way for a convenient accident to happen to either you or Nightmare."

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Short chapter, deal with it

Uh

Woof
Quack
Hiss
Oink
Meow
Wheek
Chirp
Sngggrrggggrrr

-Jess-