･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.
･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.
She was shaking. Her hands trembling in her lap as tears brimmed her eyes, even though she didn't fully understand yet. Existing pool of Victors. She pushed out a shaky breath.
Was this her fault? Had their riots done more than they intended? After that one time, now weeks ago, she'd spent most her time inside to prevent walking into something like that again. What she couldn't see, couldn't hurt her. Except it could. She could go back to the Games. She would not survive again, she'd be dead before she entered the arena.
Her friends would go back, too. Cecelia, Neil, Wood... She couldn't lose any of them. Thinking about them possibly being in there was unbearable. If she was in there or not, she doubted she'd survive. At least there was a chance her name wouldn't be pulled. Not everyone had that luxury. Johanna didn't.
The sudden realization pressed the breath out of her. Odette might go, Johanna would. Her bones felt heavy as images flooded her brain. Johanna could die. Johanna would be in the arena again in just a few months. Air wouldn't reach her lungs, and it made no sense. The prospect of Johanna dying was more terrifying than her own death.
She hadn't called Johanna in weeks, though the stacks of letters on her desk was ever growing. She needed... She needed to talk to her. She needed to ask if she was okay, though of course she was not. She needed to know Johanna wouldn't do anything stupid. She needed to be there for her.
"Why are you looking like that?" Freya huffed as she entered the room. She'd been particulary bad since Odette had basically looked both of them inside. Most days, she could deal with it, not that day.
She sucked in a breah, trying to stabilize herself. "Nothing, Mom," she forced a smile on her lips that watered down when her mother scowled at 'mom'. "I need to call someone." It was more to herself than to Freya. There were more things she needed to do. Go to the other victors of eight, try to calm her spinning mind, but the only thing she seemed to be able to do was call Johanna. The others would come later.
Odette was surprised her legs moved, that she did not fall to her knees when she tried to stand. Everything about her body felt weak, unfunctional. Still she managed to get to the phone, her mothers mumbling disappearing behind the door she carefully closed.
She was breathing hard when she dialed the number, more out of breath than she should be. It was hot in the house, despite the snow outside. She was three rings in when Odette reliazed Johanna would not pick up. She never did, why would she after that news?
The click was familiar, and Odette felt guilty for the relief that washed over her. What could she even say to her? There were no empty comforts to be given, and Johanna would see right through her kind lies. She should hang up, but she could not.
"Hey," she whispered, almost chocking on the word. She closed her eyes, breathing deep for a moment. "I'm assuming you heard. I'm so sorry, Johanna," she didn't know where the words came from, didn't know where the sob came from. It was so unfair. "I just... please, just this once, talk to me. I need to know you're okay. Of course you're not, but...Just talk to me, please."
If she'd had any shame left, Odette would be ashamed of the begging note in her voice, the trembling sobs she could not keep in. she was begging her, and Johanna would not listen. She should be used to it.
For a terribly long moment, the silence remained. There was no Johanna, not a single sound but her own labored breathing. The disappointment never became less, even when she expected it. She hung u the phone, not finding the strength to move anymore. Why should she, anyway? She'd be dead in a matter of months. Dead again.
She was breathing hard, her shoulder collapsing with the wall. Everything had been for nothing. Every terrible night in the Capitol. Every chat with citizens where she tried so hard to please them. It had gotten her nowhere.
Tears rolled down her cheeks. She was supposed to be safe. She was supposed to do terrible things and be safe with her family. But they took Miles, and now they were taking her again.
She'd always done what they'd asked of her, had given herself up. She did not want to die like that, she refused to be remembered for what those men did to her, or the happy chats with people she did not like. She would give them something to remember.
Where she found the strength or determination, Odette didn't know, but she wiped her tears away and left her house for the first time in too long. Her coat was forgotten, but the snow didn't feel cold on her arms, and the wind wasn't uncomfortable on her cheeks. She had somewhere to go, and it was long overdue.
Holly's house had always been a safe haven. It had been, before the 74th Games. The blue door, the chipped and faded paint. She squared her shoulders before she knocked. Holly looked surprised when she saw her. Odette had been avoiding her since she'd fought the peacekeeper for her. "Odette," she sounded smaller than she ever had before. "I'm so sorry."
Her aunt pulled her in for a hug. Odette had forgotten the whole district had heard the announcement. That wasn't why she was there, and she was terrified that if she allowed herself a moment of weakness, she'd simply fall apart. "That's not why I'm here," she stepped back from the hug, pushing down the guilty feeling. "You might want to let me in."
"Do you want tea?" She asked as she stepped aside. "Borrow a sweater? You're soaked." Odette shook her head, she hadn't even noticed.
"I want to join," she said, facing her aunt. "It's late, but I have nothing to lose anymore. You were right, and I'll do whatever it takes. I'll protect everyone, give them coverage, set fire to the Capitol myself-"
"Whoah," Holly smiled. "That's a big change of mind."
She moved further into the house, sitting at the table. Odette joined her. "Well, Snow just decided to kill me again, I won't die for nothing."
"You're not going to die," Holly said, hands curling around the edge of the table. "You might not get reaped. You won once."
Odette knew it was hard on her, but it was harder on Odette. "I'm already running on borrowed time, it'll run out eventually," Holly looked out of the window, and Odette sighed, taking one of her hands in her own. "But that's months away. Let cause some trouble first, yeah?"
Slowly, Holly's mouth curved into a smile. "I knew you had a rebellious streak in you. Let's see what we can do next."
***
Rain was ticking against the window, and for the first time in days, Odette felt calm. She'd been meeting with Holly and others who'd taken the orizalitory lead to plan their next actions. Fear was beginning to set in amongst people, they were tired from the long hours of work. The logical next move would be for everyone to stop working, convincing everyone of that was the problem.
Odette had talked with the other victors, they were all willing to help financially if things didn't go as planned. That helped, and Holly was trying to recruit even more people. It would happen in just two days.
Her mother had been confused that day, something she preferred to sit out in her room, looking through old pictures and taking long baths. Odette wanted to help her, but it had been hard for awhile, and the couch was a source of serenity.
She gladly could have sat there until the sun went down or her stomach started protesting, but the phone rang. It was a strange sound, she never got much calls, one a year most. "Hello?" She spoke into the phone.
"Hi," Odette sucked in her breath. That was Johanna. Johanna Mason had called her. She hadn't even dared to hope it would be her. What could she even say? Still apologize for what happened months ago? It felt like a lifetime ago. Talk about the upcoming Quarter Quell? Both of them were probably thinking too much about that as it was.
"Hey," was all that came out. She'd had so much to say, but now that she could say it and know she'd be heard, everything seemed wrong. "Are you alright?"
Johanna chuckled, except it wasn't mean like it could be. Perhaps Odette was projecting, but it almost sounded nervous. "Just peachy," and perhaps this was why she never answered the call, because it was strange. It was weird to talk to her like this, when there was no bodily escape if it was needed.
"Yeah," Odette whispered. As strange as it was, Odette liked it. She'd tried so long to achieve just this and she was going to make it work. "Maybe that was a dumb question. I'm sorry, about the games."
It was an unavoidable topic, Odette wanted to talk about it to someone. Normally, she'd go to Cecelia, but it would be one of them, and somehow it felt like a disturbing competition. "Well, I can't say I'm surprised after what happened last year," she scoffed, and Odette couldn't help but wonder what she looked like right now. "But... how are you?"
And the breath got pushed out of Odette again. It seemed impossible, Johanna had called her and was asking about how she was. Her stomach was turning, a familiar feeling she only remembered now that she felt it. Just like that, she remembered why she chased it yearly. "I'm okay," she said after a moment. "I wasn't at first, but I am now." She wanted to tell her all about what she was doing. How she decided to join the riots, make moves and be someone, but she could not. With the riots, their call was likely being recorded. "It's like I finally decided to live now that I know the time might be up."
It wasn't the whole truth but it was true enough. "Of course you're only figuring that out now," Johanna hesitated. Odette could feel it, tingles starting at the base of her neck as if Johanna was right there behind her. "Could I get to meet her in the Capitol?"
"Yes," she breathed out too quickly. It was an ominous question, but Odette would rather be there in that moment. Her skin was aching for Johanna. To feel her hand under her own, to hear her true voice instead of the slightly different one that came through the phone. She never knew the phone would change her voice like that. "I missed you. I always do."
There was no point in not telling her whatever she wanted to. At least not in that moment. Perhaps Johanna would never call her again. Perhaps she'd change her mind and she would give her the cold shoulder when they met again. Perhaps one of them would die. "Yeah," Johanna said uncharacteristically soft. "I have to go."
"If I'd call you again," Odette didn't dare to hope, but it was bubbling in her stomach anyway. "Would you pick up?"
She was quiet for a moment, Odette's heart was beating in her stomach, butterflies going wild in her stomach as she tried to be patient. "Yeah," she simply said, but it was enough. It was more than enough.
***
They'd done it. Somehow, one morning when Odette looked out of her window, the town was filled with people. It was hard to believe what she was seeing. There were peacekeepers there, too. Standing, moving, probably yelling. Odette had to be there. It was strange she wasn't, hadn't Holly said she could offer them more protection? She knew she could. She should. Never before had she dressed herself that fast. Her hair was undone and the buttons of her dress not done properly. It seemed so insignificant now that she had more important things to worry about. She was worried, but was surprised by the excitement that laid underneath. She was actually doing something that was worth it, something that might cause change.
The melting snow gave way under her feet, Odette's movements hindered by the constant slipping. She'd expected yelling, rage or fear, but the silence was even more terrifying. She saw the people – a lot of people – and should be able to hear them, but they didn't even seem to breathe. It was different from the first riot she'd witnessed, though the lack of blood was comforting.
As quietly as she could, Odette moved closer, her movements feeling like a disruption of the strange peace they had built. She had no idea what was going on. When Holly mentioned a riot, she'd expected... well, more action.
At the back of the audience, she halted, uncertain what to do. A few peacekeepers were standing on the small stage before the justice building. They were whispering, hands on their weapons. Their hushed voices were the only thing louder than the wind, though she couldn't hear what the were saying.
Seconds seemed to drag out, and now that she was standing still, Odette regretted not putting on a coat. It was getting warmer, something she normally enjoyed, but not now that every day, every rising degree, the reaping came closer. She tried not to think about it, which worked as long as she kept busy, but now she was standing in silence before the justice building, and her mind couldn't stop wandering.
It could have been a few minutes, or it could have been an hour before a peacekeeper spoke. "I'm not repeating it again," he sounded inhumane from behind his mask, hands firmly on the gun. "Get to work or we'll have to write fines."
"For what?" Odette sucked in her breath at Holly's voice, loud and clear in the crowd. "we're not doing anything wrong."
"You're not at your work," the man said.
"Sounds like business for our employers, not you."
A few sounds of agreement rose from the crowd, and the silence seemed to be over. "It is our business when no one is doing what they're supposed to do. Don't make this harder than it has to be."
"Harder than twelve-hour workdays?" Someone else said, huffing. "You're an idiot!" and that broke the strange spell everyone was under. The peacekeeper yelled, and the crowd roared in response, moving closer, demanding things.
Odette didn't know what to do. People pushed past her, anger finally taking a hold of them. She stood nailed to the ground, seeing it happen. Wasn't this what she wanted? To be part of the change? She wanted something to change, but what was this going to do? Besides, she couldn't fight, especially not against guns.
but they needed her. Holly had said so, she could protect them, perhaps even stop—there was a gunshot and Odette snapped out of her daze. She was already there, she would not let anyone die. She pushed forward, up to the stage, trying to yell over the commotion. "Stop! Stop this!" She elbowed her way through, pulling a young man from the gasp of a peacekeeper. "Get your hands off him."
It was probably more his surprise than her strength, but the man released the other. "Miss Byrne," nothing around her stopped, but she stood a bit taller at his surprise, at the gun lowering just enough. "What-"
The man she'd gotten free lunged for the peacekeeper, trying to get the gun for himself. Odette gasped, taking a step back in surprise. She wanted to help, but she was not made for this. Her knees were shaking when the gun went off. She screamed, covering her mouth as she bumped into people left and right, no one else seemed shaken by the sound. Not shaken enough to stop their fight. The young man hit the ground, the peacekeeper pushing him off. His blouse was quickly turning red and soon all Odette could see was red. Red on her hands, red on her clothes, red in herlungs. "No," she breathed out, not feeling the other bodies around her, not hearing anything but the rushing off her own blood in her ears. His blood was so red, and there was so much. "You killed him," she said, stepping closer, somehow not having seen enough. "You killed him."
"You did, stupid girl," the peacekeeper snapped, getting up. His white suit was covered in red. He didn't sound surprised anymore, just angry. In a few quick steps he was towering above her, his hand on her arm. The red blood on his glove sticking to her skin. "If you hadn't sticked your nose in our business, he'd have been alive."
He hauled her up the small stage too harshly, her eyes unable to leave the body on the ground. She couldn't look away, until she was pushed against a wall. Her face hit the rough stone, the pain bringing her back to the moment and the man pressed against her. "Look what you did!" he hissed, though she saw nothing but a few squarreling people against the building as well. "You're responsible for every one of them that's hurt. For all the blood shed."
Something pressed against her back. "What are you doing?" Her heart was beating in her throat, she could fel her pulse in her cheek, felt her own blood slowly dripping down her chin. She should be more afraid than she was.
"You're the reason we're all bleeding, you need to bleed, too." And she was aware it was a knife against her back and that soon, that was going to pierce her skin.
"You can't do that, I'm a victor, I can have you-"
"Don't waste your breath, girl," he hissed, his stink entering her nose. The blade pressed deeper, and she felt her dress getting wet. "When we take you in, we'll do much worse. You won't be able to walk for days."
Her skin turned cold and Odette couldn't breathe. Would she actually die today? She couldn't, they couldn't kill her. Not when she might go in the games again. "Yeah?" she forced out, pressing her free hand against the wall. "Who's going to take my place in the quarter quell, then?"
Hechuckled, but the pressure of the knife lessened. "There's still someone else."
And that should have been it. He should have killed her or tied her up, but there was a crash and a bang and he was on the ground. Odette turned around and saw Neil. "Are you okay?" He asked, pushing the man away with his foot, taking her chin in his hand. "Fuck, Odette."
"It's nothing," she could still feel the knife pressed against her back. "We have to-" there was another gun shot. How many had there been? Looking behind Neil, she saw too much people hurt, too many hied up to meet a fate worse than death. What did they need to do?
"Get them away," he finished for her. Yes, that seemed like a good idea. She nodded, her mind in shambled as she wiped her cheek. It stung, and her figers were red. At least it was her own blood. At least Neil was there. She wasn't going to die that day. "Let's find your aunt, she can call this off."
***
"What were you thinking?" She didn't think she'd ever heard Cecelia yell at her. "This is why we should stay out of this mess!" Odette remained silent, the now bandaged cut on her back still throbbing. She could almost feel her face swelling, an uncomfortable ache setting in her body now that she was getting warm again.
"Maybe you should try to calm down a bit-" Woof said from behind his glass, a safe distance from Cecelia. The woman didn't even turn to look at him.
"Why would you let her get involved in this?" She focused now on Holly, who Odette couldn't see, but she felt her eyes on her. "You think we can protect everyone, but they know us and they'll make an example out of us!"
"I didn't invite her; she came on her own." Holly argued, shuffling behind her. Odette doubted she looked regretful.
Odette took a deep breath to steady herself. "I did," she said. "I saw what was happening and wanted to help. I'm not some irresponsible child, I can make my own choices." Cecelia's hard stare softened a bit when she turned back to Odette. For the first time, she found she disliked it. Her mother used to look at her like that when she did something wrong. She wasn't a child anymore, and Cecelia was supposed to be her friend, not her mother.
"I know you can," she said, taking a moment to calm down before sitting down. "But this wasn't a smart one."
"Who cares?" Odette didn't know where she got the edge in her voice. She didn't try to stop it, and she found she didn't mind it. "In a few weeks, two of us are going to be in the arena. Two of us will probably die. What are you holding back for?"
"acting out isn't going to save anyone."
Odette puffed out a breath, shaking her head. "This isn't about anyone but me," she stood, feeling restless. Couldn't they see? She'd lived her whole life for other people. Trying to please them, make thm happy, fit into how they expected her to be. Not anymore, there would be a mark, and when she died, people would remember her as she was, rather than how she was supposed to be. "I want this. You don't have to, but you don't get to decide what I'm doing the last months of my life."
"You're saying that as if you're going to die!" Cecelia stood again, too. "We don't know that."
The others remained silent around them. Neil was watching them besides Woof, who had just refilled his glass. Looking at Cecelia, she knew what she meant, and that was just as terrible. "No." she shook her head, stepping closer to the woman. The one who'd been something between a best friend and a mother figure during the most important times of her life. She would not let her die for her. "No, Cecelia, you won't. Promise me now you won't volunteer."
"You'd do the same for me." And she would. Of course she would if Cecelia wanted her to. It was a dept she felt like she had to repay. The difference was, Odette was young. She wasn't a fighter and she wouldn't make it, but she'd been on borrowed time for years.
"Not if you asked me to not do it," she grabbed her arm. "you've done so much for me, don't add this to my debt."
"Oh, honey," the last of her anger seemed to vanish when she pulled her in for a hug. It was a bit too tight, and Odette's body protested. "There is no debt, bot at all. But... promise me the same, then."
Odette nodded into the embrace. "Yeah, okay," she pulled away, smiling at her. "Who gets pulled, get pulled."
"Look at that," Woof said. "We're all friends again."
Nothing was reallytalked out, but it was good enough. Odette would continue helping Holly, andCecelia would stay mad at her for it. With that, she could live.
･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.
(a/n): once again not proofread/edited because I worked a lot and turns out, working with people for 8-12 hours is very draining! Sorry, but I will come back to fix that!