Promises of a Sacrificial Lamb |Destiel x The Hunger Games|

-7-

The breeze is cool, refreshing, and the twinkling stars dotting the inky black sky above begin to calm my frayed nerves in an instant.  It's blissfully quiet up here.  Not as quiet as the apartment—out here we can hear the wind and the distant sounds of the bustling city—but in a way, it's almost more tranquil.  Wind chimes gently clink against one another, singing soft melodies.  Pots and troughs of various flowers and ferns are lined up against the back walls of the rooftop.  Nothing too outrageous, but it's just enough greenery in this city of metal and steel to remind me of home.

I take in a deep breath, filling my lungs with the fresh, crisp air.  It revitalizes me in a heartbeat.  It's so open up here, so wonderfully spacious and not crowded with people or expensive items.  No, it's just a strip of floor, a railing blocking the edge, and a never-ending view of the world around us.

Without a word, Castiel wanders up to the railing at the edge of the roof, leaning against it and gazing out at the panorama of the Capitol.  I join him, finding myself unable to speak, because it's like we're on top of the world.  I don't know what I could possibly say that would fit this moment.

The city looks like it goes on for miles.  Rows upon rows of tall skyscrapers fill our entire view, some of them dark and devoid of life and others still glimmering with light and vitality.  Cars occupy almost every single road.  I even see specks of people strolling down the sidewalks, like tiny ants, and we're the giants watching their every move.

But above all the hustle and bustle is the endless night sky.  The crescent moon shines down on us, a sliver of silver in the pool of darkness.  Bright stars are everywhere, some clusters forming constellations I've never even seen before.  It's a breathtaking array of the universe beyond our world, the beautiful, unexplored place that no one has touched or interfered with yet.  Maybe that's why I love the stars, the moon, the vast sky so much.  They reside in the only place that the Capitol can't control.

I'm brought back to reality when I hear Castiel heave a sigh.  He's still staring out at the city, his expression glazed but definitely not troubled or distressed like before.  He looks pensive, lost in his thoughts, and I can only wonder what's running through his mind right now.

"Are you doing okay, Castiel?"  I decide to ask him.  Might as well get right to the point.  "You haven't really said anything all day."

He freezes for a moment, seeming to be pondering his options, then gives me an odd merge of a shrug and a nod.  That about sums of my feelings about today, too.

"You can talk to me, you know.  You don't have to feel weird or be nervous."  Either he's purposely avoiding my eyes, or he somehow hasn't noticed me looking at him.  "We're a team now.  We're gonna help each other get through this.  That's what teammates do."

He purses his lips, dropping his gaze down past the railing that's keeping us secured on the rooftop, and I can't ignore the dejected sinking of my heart.  I thought he would be more willing to talk once we were safe and alone up here.  Maybe I was wrong to assume so quickly.

With another deep, unsteady breath, Castiel lifts his hand from the cold railing and reaches out into the open air.  It abruptly halts, as if some invisible force is preventing his hand from going any further.  I must have a look of bewilderment on my face because when he turns his head to finally meet my eyes again, he's smiling.  Just a tad.

"Force field,"  he says softly, bringing his hand back to the railing.  "No jumping off."

I'm not all that surprised.  If I wasn't so adamant about returning home to my family and keeping Castiel alive, I won't lie and say that wouldn't have been one of the things to cross my mind.  I'm sure it's crossed a lot of tributes' minds.  If you know for a fact that you're not going to survive the Hunger Games, why wait to get your heart ripped out of your chest while it's still beating or take a knife straight to the throat and choke to death on your own blood?