Eat Your Heart Out

by nomadicwolf

Summary:

Steve Harrington thought he was used to this. The annual reaping came and went, and Steve did his best to cope with that. The worst of it was going back to the Capitol to his own personal never-ending arena. That is, so he thought. Everything changes when Will Byers' name is called at the reaping, and the one person Steve can't watch die steps in to take his place.

-
Written for the Steve Harrington Big Bang

Notes:

 

I was so fortunate to collaborate with Jo-Harrington they put together so many fantastic edits for this fic!

Chapter 1: District Four

Notes:

Amazing edit #1 by the incredible Jo-Harrington!

Steve hated this.  The annual reaping.  It brought back all the feelings he experienced for his own reaping.  It had been five years since he went into the arena.  Since then he had to prepare other kids to try and survive this fight to the death.  He honestly wasn’t sure which was worse.  It was one thing to have his own life on the line, but to be responsible for the lives of others… that was something else entirely.

He walked out of the house, and slowly made his way to meet the mayor.  This might not have been the worst part, but it still made his skin crawl.  He had to go be a mascot for this whole spectacle.  It was impossible.  He was in this bucket.  Not quite Capitol, but no longer District 4.  Not really anyway.

The only solace was that he wasn’t alone.

A pair of striking blue eyes met him as he approached the mayor’s house.  Nancy.  Of course she’d be there first.  Always punctual.  Steve couldn’t judge her attention to detail, it was how she won her games.

“Hi,” she said, clutching her arms close to her body.  

He nodded, giving her a polite smile.  There wasn’t really much to say.  It wasn’t a happy reunion.  The Reaping was always a sad solemn day.  It was like you could feel the district mourning before anything had even happened.

She raised her hand and knocked on the front door.  “Did you see him when you left?”

Steve blinked at her.  Oh.  Right.  “No.  He’s always late though.  Two years ago they had to get the peacekeepers to drag him out of his house and into the square.”

“I remember….” She cleared her throat, clenching her jaw a bit.  “That was my year.”

Right.  He knew that.  It was hard to keep track.  It felt like Nancy’s year was the last one that passed.  He knew better, but it felt like the time between reapings was moving faster.  He cherished his time away from the games so greatly, it felt like time flew between the games.  

The door creaked open, and Mayor Kline grinned widely at them.  “Come in, come in.  We’ll head down to the square in a few minutes.”  He let them into the house, looking outside for a moment, like he was expecting someone else.

“He’s not here yet,” he said with a sigh.  It didn’t feel unexpected like Nancy, it was more mild disappointment.  Steve didn’t even feel that anymore.  He wasn’t even sure why they insisted on dragging the old man out for these.  With Steve and Nancy now… there wasn’t really much of a need for him there.  He got the feeling it was more about the Capitol making a statement than anything else.

“Any word from the other districts yet?” Nancy asked as they walked into the sitting room.  They could hear the television distantly in the background.  He must have been watching the coverage.  The Capitol would be airing the “greatest hits” all day.  Steve just hoped his games weren’t on yet… or Nancy’s.

“No, nothing yet,” the mayor– Larry said.  He motioned for them to take a seat.  “Can I get you any refreshments?”

“No thank you,” Nancy said as she lowered herself into a seat.  She was sitting on the edge of the chair, clearly still uncomfortable with all this.

Steve shook his head.  He slunk down comfortably in the chair opposite Nancy.  This was going to be a long day.  “I’m sure they’ll have plenty on the train.  I’m okay for now, thanks.”

Larry nodded, clasping his hands together.  “Barbara should be here soon.  She’ll have your itineraries.  I think some people from the media will be there too, with the two of you being young… somewhat popular, more recent victors.  I’m sure the Capitol is interested to see what you’ve been up to.”

Nancy let out a hollow scoff as she rubbed her temples.  “If you say so.”

Steve grimaced, raising his eyebrows.  “We haven’t been up to much, Larry.”

Larry’s smile faltered, the facade beginning to crack.  It wasn’t his fault.  He didn’t even have any real power as the mayor.  There was a good chance he was being watched to ensure that he had compliant victors.  It didn’t make much of a difference either way.  Nothing they did or said in that house was going to change anything.

“I’m sure that’s not true,” he said.

It was true.  Steve personally rarely left the house unless the people from the Capitol wanted him to do some fluff piece or… the other stuff.  He imagined Nancy was similar.  Steve at least had family, Nancy on the other hand….  Steve tried not to think about it.

“It’s Steve they’ll want to talk to,” she said, folding her arms.  “I don’t think anyone wants to hear what I have to say.”

Larry gave her a disapproving look.  “Let’s not start that.  This day will be eventful enough as it is.”

Nancy’s lips thinned but she didn’t give a response.  Steve was grateful, with everything going on the last thing they needed was to complicate things.  Besides, Nancy probably wasn’t wrong.  The Capitol wasn’t going to give her the opportunity to say what she wanted to anyway.  They’d probably just record some candid moments of her with their tribute after the reaping.  Most of the other programming would likely fall to him.  

Steve didn’t like being the Capitol prop, but he had to admit he was good at it.  People liked him.  He just had to lean into a few existing qualities of his personality and they just ate it up.  If anything they bought into it a bit too much.

Kline sighed as he glanced back at the clock.  “He really should be here by now.”

Steve rubbed his brow.  He really wasn’t sure why anyone was surprised the old man wasn’t there yet.  For as long as Steve could remember they had to drag the old guy out to participate in this stuff.  Why they expected anything else was a shock to Steve.

“He’s probably still in Victors’ Village with some pills and a bottle of scotch,” Steve said honestly.  He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen the man sober.  “When Barb gets here she’ll have the peacekeepers go get him and we’ll be good to go.”

Nancy finally leaned back against the chair.  “Sounds like he’s got the right idea,” she muttered under her breath.

Steve snorted.  He couldn’t imagine Nancy being anything like the old man.  Their stories were similar but she wasn’t the kind to indulge in drugs or drink.  She was almost hypervigilant, like she’d never let anyone get the drop on her ever again.  Still he understood the sentiment; it had to be better than being in their shoes, at least for the time being.

They stayed in Kline’s house for a while, Steve wasn’t sure quite how long.  It was long enough for them to move on to highlights from the games a few years before his.  He could distinctly hear them talking about a decapitation that was so gruesome Steve wasn’t sure he’d ever forget watching it when they watched it live.

Finally, the door was opening.  Steve could smell them before he saw them.  The perfumes and scents from the Capitol were strong.  The floral scents were always a surefire way to know when one of them was nearby.  

“Hello victors!” Barb’s voice met their ears.  

Steve sighed as he stood up, grinning tightly as they walked into the sitting room. Nancy followed suit, rising from her chair.  Larry smiled widely as he ushered them into his living room.  Steve and Nancy exchanged a look.  Larry was laying this on thick–thicker than usual.  He was probably still not used to having three victors to parade around.  Before Steve won, Larry only had to worry about the old guy.  The Capitol didn’t want media surrounding him; they’d done too much work making him look like a comical drunk to let him say anything on camera to show the truth.

It was different with Steve and Nancy… but mostly Steve.  His programming always did well…almost too well for Steve’s liking.  He’d love a little less attention from the Capitol in all honesty.  It was fine, if this kept his parents and old friends safe, it was worth it.

“Hi, Barb,” Steve said dryly.  “That time already?”

Barb was essentially their liaison to the Capitol.  She was… fine.  The trip always started with her being enthusiastic and over the top.  By the time it was over, she was far less happy to be dealing with them.  Her patience didn’t last particularly long.  She kept them on a strict schedule, and a lot of the time they were scheduled for things that they were reluctant to participate in.

Her smile didn’t falter as she looked between him and Nancy. “Just a few more minutes, the camera crew is going to get some behind the scenes footage and— where is he?” 

Barb’s face dropped as she scanned the room.  “Is he in the restroom or….”

Steve wanted to say something snarky about how he never came here willingly.  It always took a peacekeeper or begging from Larry to get him to come out of his house in the Victors’ Village.  He had no idea why everyone was surprised that the tradition continued.  

He didn’t say that.  The people from the Capitol were there so Steve needed to put on a show.  An apologetic, knowing smile appeared on his face.  “Is it really a reaping if he’s not fashionably late?”

Nancy glanced at him out of the corner of her eyes.  She still hadn’t said a word, which Steve supposed was better than her saying the wrong thing.  Still, he knew she didn’t agree with the way he went about all this.

“What time are we getting to the square?” She asked finally.  It was a safe question.  It was fact-based, and at least it couldn’t be said that she wasn’t engaging with them.  It was something.

Barb winced as she checked her watch.  “We’re on a tight schedule, and it doesn’t help now that we have to send peacekeepers to go get him…. We should really try to leave in no more than twenty minutes.”

Larry clapped his hands together.  “I’ll let the peacekeepers know to go get him.”

Steve gave a polite laugh, shaking his head.  “He must have done a little too much ‘celebrating’ last night to prepare for this.”

Barb gave him an amused smile, before bringing her attention to Nancy.  “Oh! I heard word from the Capitol that they want you to be the face of a new fashion line–”

“That’s not–” she began.

“Wow, Nance,” Steve jumped in, trying to salvage this interaction.  Nancy could fight with Barb and the rest of the Capitol later.  It was going to be a long enough trip without her starting a fight with them on day one.  “I’m kind of jealous.  I can’t remember the last time I got to represent a brand.  You get to try out these new clothes before anyone else.  It’s really interesting to see.  Sometimes, they let you keep the stuff too.”

She gave him a tight smile, before looking back at Barb.  “We can talk about the details on the train.”

Barb nodded, and Steve could see her eyes relax a bit.  She was anticipating the fights just as much as Steve was.  The difference was she genuinely thought the other two were wrong, and Steve just knew how to play the game.  

“Would it be easier if we started with taking some photos with me and Nance while the peacekeepers… do their thing,” Steve suggested.  

If looks could kill, Steve would be dead with the face Nancy made as she looked at him.  He just knew better than to let things sit with the Capitol.  It’d be a disaster if they wasted too much time.  The powers that be were expecting their footage, they wouldn’t care that one of them was tardy.

“Great idea,” Barb said enthusiastically.  She turned to the camera crew, and Nancy stepped closer to him.

Nancy’s voice was barely audible.  She spoke through gritted teeth as she tried to maintain a forced smile.  “What the hell, Steve?”

“It’s better to keep them busy,” he said, his faux smile far more natural than hers.  “Trust me.”

She didn’t argue after that.  She let Barb and the camera crew instruct them and pose them like little dolls.  It was annoying, but it was the far tamest thing they had coming.  They could behave and pose for pictures.  They had to pick and choose their battles.

Larry came back after about fifteen minutes.  “We should head to the square.  The peacekeepers will make sure he’s there on time.”

Barb gave an exasperated sigh, glancing at her watch again.  “I guess we don’t have much of a choice.  We can’t be late.”

Steve felt his stomach tighten at that.  This was it.  The beginning of the truly bad.  They got to meet the kids they’d have to watch slaughter or be slaughtered. They knew no matter what, they’d be losing one of them… if not both.  Steve was sure he’d never get used to seeing their horrified faces when their names were called out.

“After you,” he said.  He flashed a charming smile to Nancy, motioning for her to walk ahead of him.  He hated how easy it was for him to turn this act on… as if he wasn’t actually crawling out of his skin.

Nancy walked past, giving him a troubled look.  It was almost as if he was still her mentor, and she hadn’t left the arena.  He knew that face.  She had her guard up, and Steve was almost glad.  They had to be just as vigilant as ever.  They had a long day ahead of them.

“It’ll be fine,” Jonathan said weakly.

Jane and Will exchanged a look.  They held his hands tightly as Jonathan led them down the boardwalk towards the square.  The scent of seawater burning his nostrils.  He promised Jane and Will that he’d take them down to the beach after the reaping as a way to calm their nerves.  He wasn’t sure either of them felt confident that would happen.

He knew he didn’t sound convincing.  How could he?  No one really knew how this would turn out until it did.  Still, the odds were good– well not good but not awful.  Jonathan was the only one who put his name in more times for resources, and this was his last year.  After that he’d be able to start working down by the docks or on a fishing crew to provide.  Mom’s job at the market wouldn’t be the only income anymore. Will and Jane wouldn’t need to put their names in more than necessary and they’d just have to hold their breaths and hope some other kids got unlucky.

It should have made him feel sick to his stomach– hoping for some other kids to die so his siblings could be safe.  It didn’t though. They were what mattered most to him on the planet.  His dad was gone…got drunk on bootleg liquor and drowned one night.  His mom… she meant well, but they never saw eye to eye.  That left Jane and Will.

Will– his younger brother.  Jonathan had been looking after Will for as long as he could remember.  Jane, the orphan girl they took in one winter when Jonathan was ten.  She was six years old, bone thin, and wild.  He prided himself in having played a part in helping her have a somewhat normal life in District Four.  They were the best parts of his life.

Jonathan couldn’t fathom what would happen if either of them was reaped.  After this year there would be nothing Jonathan could do to protect them.  He wouldn’t be eligible to volunteer in Will’s place, and he wouldn’t be able to do that for Jane as it was.  He couldn’t even stand to think about that for too long.  District Four wasn’t too small, but it was far from the largest district.  The likelihood that out of everyone either one of them would be picked wasn’t high… but it wasn’t nonexistent either.

Will squeezed his hand a bit tighter.  Jonathan looked between him and Jane.  She had that far away look she’d get sometimes, when she was deep in her own thoughts.  They were nervous– no, terrified .  They were twelve.  This was their first year being eligible for the reaping.  Jonathan remembered his first reaping.  He was so sure that he’d be picked and his mom and the kids would have to find a way to fend for themselves without him.  It was natural to be nervous, especially since they’d never gone through this before.

As they got closer, there were more and more people.  He strengthened his grip on their hands, navigating them through the growing crowd.  He needed to keep them close to him until they got checked in.  Then Jane would have to go with the other girls and Will would have to sit with his age group.

Will’s hand was trembling.  Jonathan gave him a supportive smile.  He knew there was nothing he could say that would put him at ease.  He glanced over at Jane.  She wasn’t shaking but her eyes were wide with panic, her mouth slightly open, like her body was trying to force her to breathe.  He wished that he could say something to reassure them, but he knew better.  They weren’t stupid.  They knew that there was no guarantee they were getting out of there without their names being called.

They got on the line to check in.  It was moving faster than usual.  Typical.  The one line Jonathan wanted to move slowly was moving at a record high speed.  Once there were only a handful of people in front of him, he turned, facing both Will and Jane.  

“We’ll meet at the house after.  Just find your seats, watch the stage, and it’ll be over before you know it.  If someone you know gets picked, try not to react,” Jonathan said.  He didn’t want the Capitol to profit off his siblings' tears.  Anytime people had a reaction, the cameras would zoom right in on them.  Will and Jane could have their reactions at home in private.

“Okay,” Jane said.  Her voice was softer than usual, like she was afraid to make too much noise.

“What if we–”  Will began.

“You won’t be,” Jonathan said.  He wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince the kids or himself.  They couldn’t be picked.

“But what if….” Will asked.

Jonathan’s face soured.  “Don’t think like that.  If that happens… do what you’re told.  We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”  He wouldn’t tell them his contingency plan.  That would only make them more anxious.  The last thing he was going to do was add to that.  It would be fine.  It had to be.

They got checked in, and Jonathan watched helplessly as Jane was ushered towards the other girls.  She looked back at him, a frantic look in her eyes.  He did his best to give her a supportive look and a nod.  He knew there was nothing else he could do to comfort her.  He just wished he could sit with her while it happened– sit with both of them.

Jonathan turned to look at Will.  “Go sit with the other kids your age.  I’ll see you after.”

Will gulped, looking at him with wide eyes.  He nodded, walking over to join some of the younger kids.  Jonathan took a deep breath as he walked over to his own age group.  This was always the hardest part.  Waiting.  What was probably only about twenty minutes– from waiting for the victors and names being reaped, felt like several hours.  It was the dread.  No matter what happened there would be at least one kid that was in attendance who wouldn’t be alive in a few weeks time– and that was a generous estimation.  District Four had three victors– only two who won within the last decade.  They weren’t exactly dominating the games.  

It didn’t help that this was just the beginning.  After the reaping there would be nonstop media coverage of the games.  They’d have breakdowns of each reaping, trying to make assumptions based on tributes’ physical features, facial expressions, and body language.  There would be more in depth analysis of previous games and speculations of what we might see from this year’s arena.  Then once the tributes were presented, there would be coverage of who was best and worst dressed.  The cycle went on.  There would be no escaping the games, even if you weren’t in the arena.

Barbara Holland appeared on the stage.  She was the representative from the Capitol.  She handled the reaping and always seemed wildly out of touch.  She really believed the lie– that this was an opportunity for the tributes instead of just a torturous death sentence.  Jonathan remembered the history lessons– lies from the Capitol about how this was a way to elevate tributes’ status and standing… it was a privilege.  What a load of bullshit.

Trailing behind her were two of the three victors.  Nancy Wheeler– she won a few years back, a real dark horse, no one was expecting the quiet, diligent, school girl whose parents were among the more well off in the district would be so deadly.  Following her was Steve Harrington.  His parents probably were the most wealthy in the district– his dad managed most of the fishing operations.  He was less of a surprise.  Steve was always in shape, sporty, he spent a lot of time swimming– and his arena had a lot of bodies of water that helped… and the Capitol loved him.  He was a heartthrob with a long string of admirers.  He was practically showered with gifts during his time in the arena.

Jonathan knew both of them before their games.  He and Nancy were in the same year at school.  Their brothers used to play together until her house caught on fire while she was in the Capitol.  It was remarkable timing, really.  Her win was a bit controversial, and then the next day her parents' house was ablaze.  What a coincidence.

Steve… that was a different story.  Jonathan used to live around the corner from him, before he won.  They were friends.  Not overly close, Jonathan wasn’t really close with anyone, but Steve was a few years older than him and would stop by to spend some time with him occasionally.  Then he came back from the Capitol and acted like Jonathan didn’t even exist.  The glory really got to him.

There was a crash as Jim Hopper was dragged onto the stage by a few of the peacekeepers.  That was its own annual tradition.  Hopper won back when Jonathan’s mom was a teen.  She said when he came back he was… different– damaged.  He didn’t stop drinking after that.  Every year he had to be forced onto that stage to be present for the reaping.  If it was a really good year, he’d even be awake for most of it.

“Happy Hunger Games!” Barb exclaimed excitedly into the microphone.  There was practically no reaction from the crowd.  Barb was probably the only one looking forward to this in the whole district– except maybe Steve, who probably couldn’t wait to get back to the Capitol with all his adoring fans.

Jonathan didn’t dwell on Steve.  He was the least of Jonathan’s worries.  No, his attention was on Barb and the two bowls beside her.  One had the names of all boys under nineteen— but no younger than twelve, written on pieces of paper, and the other had all girls the same age.  Those bowls were going to determine their fates.  There was a sick humor in it.  The Capitol could have used something far more high tech for this, but this setup was making a statement.  Their lives weren’t any more significant to the Capitol than the scraps of paper before them.

Feedback screeched from the microphone as Barb cleared her throat.  “I think we’ll start with the boys this year.”

Jonathan just stared ahead, looking through everything in front of him.  He knew better than to close his eyes, it only made everything else worse.  The name of the tributes would echo louder, the shifting of everyone making way for the tribute to step forward felt more intense.  It was better to just stare ahead and not focus on anything.  

He was distantly aware that Barb had reached her hand into the bowl, selecting a poor soul to send to the arena.  He just needed her to say any name but Will’s. Then he needed her to repeat the favor and not select Jane’s name.  Then he’d be able to breathe a little easier for a year before they’d be back here again.  

“ Will Byers,” her voice rang through the speakers.

No.   He must have heard her wrong.  This couldn’t be happening.  No.   He looked around, hoping that some other poor kid would step forward.  This had to be in his head.  There was no conceivable way that Will had been picked.

He pushed past the few people between him and the aisle so he could make sure.  There was a terrified Will, taking a few steps down the center.  Jonathan’s stomach lurched.  He could fix this.

“I volunteer!”  He heard himself scream the words before he even thought them.  If he could make sure Will was safe for at least another year, he’d gladly face his death in the arena.

Will’s eyes widened, brimming with tears.  “Jon, no!”

“I volunteer,” he repeated, turning to face the stage.  “I volunteer.”

Barb grinned excitedly.  “A volunteer! It’s been a few years….”  She motioned for Jonathan to come towards the stage.  His legs moved him forward, as if they had a mind of their own.  He felt like he was watching as an onlooker rather than actually walking to his death.

He reached the top of the stage.  “What’s your name, young man?”  Barb’s voice echoed through his skull.  It was louder than he realized, being right next to her.

Jonathan blinked, looking around at the crowd in front of him.  All those people, and still Will’s name was called.  “Jonathan– Byers, Jonathan Byers.”  His voice cracked.  That was embarrassing.  Not that it should have mattered.  It wasn’t like he’d see these people again.  

“Byers.  Was that your brother?” She asked, her cheery voice slicing into him.  

“Yes,” he said.  He wasn’t sure what else to say, or what else they could have wanted from him.  He volunteered.  He was going to die.  What were they expecting from him?

Barb’s voice was speaking again, this time it didn’t seem like she needed an answer.  She said something about how brave he was.  She motioned for him to step back and off to the side a bit.  He was only too happy to comply.

Jonathan didn’t even register that Barb had picked a name for the girls until he heard her call out, “Jane Ives.”  He stumbled, his head fuzzy.  No, no, no.  This had to be some sort of sick joke.  He scanned the crowd, willing his volunteering to inspire anyone to step in for her.  No one stepped forward.  

Jane was practically hyperventilating as she was practically dragged forward by the peacekeepers.  Jonathan’s eyes welled as he instinctively took a step forward.  A peacekeeper put a firm grip on his shoulder, halting him in his tracks.  He wasn’t trying to run away or something, he just wanted to hold her, to give her some comfort.

“There you have it,” Barb said.  “Your District Four Tributes for the 74th Annual Hunger Games.  May the odds be ever in their favor.”

 

Chapter 2: The Capitol

Notes:

Be sure to take a look at the amazing edits by Jo-Harrington! She was such a joy to collaborate with on this event!

Jonathan fucking Byers.  Of all the kids in District Four, Jonathan Byers was the tribute.  Steve couldn’t believe his luck.  Steve had put up with a lot since his games, but this had to be the icing on the cake.  

“Their poor mother,” Nancy said as they were ushered back into the train station.  

“What?” Steve asked.

“Jane.  She’s….”

Fuck.  Steve was an idiot.  He was so angry about Jonathan volunteering that he didn’t even register that his sister was going to the arena too.  Fuck .

“Yeah,” he said, pushing his hair back.  “Right.  This isn’t good, Nance.”

Hopper laughed.  It was cruel, bitter laughter.  “It’s never good.”

Steve grimaced, putting his hands on his hips.  “That’s not what I mean.  If they’re siblings, the Capitol is going to make this a media circus.”

Nancy gave a wary glance over at Barb and the peacekeepers.  “Not here.”

Steve nodded.  She was right.  This wasn’t the time or place.  They had to be careful.  The Capitol didn’t need to be provoked.  Steve looked in the direction of one of the old offices.  Jonathan was being held there.  It was where Steve was held.  

Shit.

Why did he volunteer?

Steve knew why.  Of course he knew why.  Jonathan Byers would do anything to keep his brother safe.  There was no way that things changed that drastically since they were friends.  Of course Jonathan would volunteer for Will.  

Jane complicated things.  Steve wouldn’t let himself acknowledge the annoying voice in his head gnawing at him.  He wished he knew Jonathan a bit less.  He wanted to be wrong so badly.  

He couldn’t go there.  They had to be on their A-Game.  Jonathan was a volunteer–stepping in for his brother. The second anyone realized that Jane was a surrogate sibling too– they’d be the talk of the Capitol.  There would be too many eyes on them, and that meant Steve would have to do the heavy lifting.

There was no way Hopper would be any help, and Nancy would be on edge the whole time.  Jonathan was never a people person, and he had to believe that Jane would be petrified.  Steve had his work cut out for him, he couldn’t start worrying about anything beyond that… not yet.

The backdoor creaked open, and Steve really wished it hadn’t.  Joyce Byers rushed inside, Will trailing behind her.  She was trembling as the peacekeeper led her to where Jonathan was being held.

“A–Are you sure?  B-both of them?” She stuttered, her voice becoming indiscernible as they closed the door to the room behind her.

Hopper cleared his throat.  He looked different.  His face was paler than usual and ashen.  It was the first time Steve had ever seen him look shaken up before.  His eyes were glued to the door where Joyce and Will had disappeared through.

“Can we move to the train?  Let them have their moment,” Hopper said, finally tearing his eyes away from the door.  

Barb seemed to consider this.  “I don’t see why not.  It should just be a few more minutes before we’re set to depart.”  She motioned for the peacekeepers to lead them out to the train.  

They stepped out of the station onto the platform.  Steve didn’t think he’d ever get used to seeing the train there.  It was intimidating, even now, large, an excessive amount of cars, multiple decks.  There was no need for all that.  It was only the three victors, two tributes, and Barb– plus maybe a handful of peacekeepers.  It was a statement.  There were people in the districts that were starving.  Four was better off than a lot of the others, but even so, it was like this train spat in the face of those in the districts that were hardly able to get by.

Steve stepped inside the train car, and was led down a hall to the car that would be serving as his bedroom for the journey.  It was larger… it must have been bigger than the one the year before– which was already too big for Steve.  He walked over to the closet, glancing through it.  Shesh .  There were dozens of different outfits in there.  They’d only be on the train for barely a day.  This was excessive, even for the Capitol.

A flash of movement caught his eye first, and then the screams.  He glanced out the window to see Jonathan and Jane being led into the train.  The poor girl was still inconsolable.  She was yelling, kicking, looking around for anyone to help her.  Two peacekeepers were carrying her into the train, one on each side of her.  Jonathan’s lips were moving, his brow furrowed as he looked on sadly.  Steve couldn’t hear him but he was sure Jonathan was doing his best to soothe her.  

He wondered distantly if they were going to sedate her.  They had to sedate the boy that was reaped the year after Steve.  He was thirteen, and had never even gotten into a fight at school.  He died less than a minute into the games.  Steve thought about him often.  

Her dull screams became louder… they must have gotten her on the train.  The blood curdling shrieks were echoing through the train.  She was terrified.  

Steve shook his head.  This was actually the hardest part.  There was nothing he, or anyone else could do to reassure her– or any of the other tributes.  They had to fight twenty three other kids, and she was small , on the younger side… Steve had a hard time imagining her as a serious contender.  Then again, he’d been wrong before.  He didn’t expect Nancy to be as fierce as she was in the arena.  

Jonathan must have been on the train too.  He doubted the peacekeepers would let him be near Jane until she calmed down, or was sedated.  Maybe he or Nancy would be allowed to go check on her.  He couldn’t imagine Barb being much help in this situation.  All things considered, Steve wasn’t even really sure that he could help much.  He couldn’t tell her things would be fine.  At best he could tell her that she had them in her corner.  He didn’t think that would put her at ease.

He felt his stomach churn.

Jonathan .

Of all the kids in the district.  He was going to have to send Jonathan Byers to his death.  He wasn’t sure he could go back to Four after that.  How could he see Joyce Byers go from having three kids to one?  The whole district would see Jonathan as a martyr who died to save his brother.  Steve wouldn’t be able to escape him.

Steve threw himself down on the large bed, and looked up at the ceiling.  He should have just died in that arena.  This was purgatory.  He was stuck between life in Four and the Capitol.  He didn’t fit in either anymore.  

The train began to move.  Steve rubbed his temples.  Great.  Back to the Capitol.  He knew what was waiting for him there.  He was sure there were countless citizens he’d have to entertain while he was in town.  The idea made his skin crawl.  Still, he knew it could be worse. This was manageable, he was good at this– even if he didn’t like it.

Jane’s screams died down eventually.  They probably gave her a light sedative.  He wondered how long it would be until Barbara inevitably came to get him and the other victors to have an official “meeting” with the new tributes.  He hoped she let it go for today.  He’d gladly talk to them right then, but Jane was distraught and Jonathan… he didn’t know what he could possibly say to Jonathan.  He probably wouldn’t even want to hear what Steve had to say.

Steve didn’t blame him.

How could he begin to explain the reason he’d kept his distance all this time?  It probably wouldn’t change anything.  It would be a weak attempt to alleviate some of his own guilt, and that wouldn’t help Jonathan or Jane in the arena.  They were the priority.

There was a light tap at his door.  No such luck.  He groaned as he rolled off the bed, stopping to glance in the mirror, making sure he looked just so.  The games had begun and needed to look his best.

He slid the door open.  Barb was standing in front of him as expected.  She looked a little shaken.  He’d never seen her be anything but enthusiastic about her role in all this.  Something about this was different.

“They’re waiting in the leisure car.  Just make your introductions.  I don’t think there’s going to be much you can do with them today.  Emotions are high,” she said. 

Steve nodded, taking a deep breath.  “I’ll head right over.  Are Nance and Hopper there yet?”

“Nancy was on her way over there.  Hopper… he’ll be there eventually,” she said.

That made sense.  Nancy was probably eager to get started, always diligent.  Nancy was going to do her damndest to make sure one of them came home– at least they’d put up a good fight to get home.  Hopper… he did his best to just muddle through, never actively doing much.  Once Steve won, he really took that as permission to check out of the process.  Not that he was particularly engaged before that.  Steve’s personality did him more favors in the arena than Hopper’s guidance.

“How are the tributes?” He asked.  At this point he was stalling.  It was awful, but he wasn’t ready to face either of them.  

She gave a sigh.  It wasn’t a normal sigh.  It was almost condescending.  “You know how these tributes can be.  He’s quiet.  She’s… on something to relax her.”

He felt anger begin to bubble up inside him.  Could she be any less insensitive? Steve’s lips thinned, pushing his hair back out of his face.  He expected as much.  “Thanks.”

Steve didn’t wait for her to respond as he began walking down the hall.  He had enough on his plate without picking a fight with Barb.  Of course she didn’t get it.  He didn’t even expect her to.  

The leisure car.  He paused as he reached the door.  He was going to have to face them sooner or later.  He just didn’t imagine this was what his reunion with Jonathan would look like.  In all honesty, he didn’t think he’d ever be talking to him again.  Now Steve was expected to prepare him to die.  It was beyond fucked.

Steve pulled the door open and cautiously walked inside the car.  They had redone that car too.  There was a couch at the far end of the room, a few sitting chairs were across from the couch.  There was a long table parallel to the couch but closer to the entrance than to the couch.  It had an excessive amount of snacks and soft drinks.  The was a small bar cart off to the side stocked with alcohol and syrups.  There was an enormous television on the wall beside the door.  Well, the Capitol really rolled out all the stops this year.

His eyes fell on the couch.  Jane was tucked under Jonathan’s arm, gripping on to him tightly.  Jonathan was speaking softly to her, a sweet sympathetic smile on his face as he rubbed her back soothingly.  Steve felt like his heart was in his throat.  This was a new level of impossible.  There was a strong chance Steve would have to return home to Four to face Joyce Byers without either of her children with him.

Nancy was sitting in one of the chairs opposite them.  She looked over her shoulder, eyes softening as she made eye contact with Steve.  She must have been feeling it too.  The anticipation of how to approach this.

Her movement seemed to catch Jonathan’s attention.  His eyes darted over to where Steve was standing.  He made eye contact momentarily, his expression hardening before he brought his attention back over to Jane.  

Well, that could have been worse.  Steve smiled tightly as he sat down in the chair beside Nancy.  “What did I miss?” He asked halfheartedly.  He was pretty certain that Nancy hadn’t covered much with them.  It didn’t look like they were in the middle of anything when he walked in.

Jonathan didn’t say anything, just continuing to whisper words of encouragement to Jane.  Nancy clasped her hands together as she gave Steve a troubled look.  

“I think we should wait for Hopper to get started,” she said weakly.  “Not that we need to go over much today.”

Steve raised an eyebrow.  He shot Nancy a look of disbelief.  When Hopper got there it would probably guarantee that they’d have to wrap it up.  He wasn’t productive on the train, least of all the first day.  He was probably raiding the bar car and fighting Barb as they were sitting there.

He brought his attention to Jane.  She was staring at the wall in front of her; she hadn’t moved an inch since Steve had come in. Her eyes were puffy and red, the expression on her face was almost vacant.  He knew there would be no point to try and talk strategy that night.  Instead, maybe he could try to gain her trust.

“I’m Steve,” he said, smiling softly at her.  “I’m not sure if you remember me, but I used to hang around with Jon–Jonathan when you were little.”

Her eyes finally moved to meet his.  She didn’t say anything, but he had her attention, so that had to count for something.  It was small progress, but progress nonetheless.

“I’m sure you must be exhausted, and scared, and angry.  I just want to promise you that we are going to do everything we can for you,” Steve said honestly.  He looked over to Jonathan.  “For both of you.”

Jonathan tensed.  Steve could tell that he was watching him out of the corner of his eye.  He was refusing to actually look at him.  Steve expected as much.  He didn’t think Jonathan would want anything to do with him, but Steve and Nancy were his best chance at making it out alive.

Nancy looked between Jonathan and Steve.  She cocked her head slightly in disbelief as she cleared her throat.  “We know this is a lot.  Take today to come to terms with this.  Tomorrow we can talk about trying to keep you alive.”

Jonathan just nodded, which was more acknowledgement than Steve had gotten from him.  He’d have to get him alone to tell him to cut it out.  He could hate Steve all he wanted, but ignoring him was only going to put him and Jane in danger.  Steve knew how to help.  He walked the line well.  He had tips for the arena and could help them navigate the Capitol, but Jonathan would need to listen to him and actually take the advice.

The door opened, Hopper slipping inside the car.  He looked unlike Steve had ever seen him before.  He was eyeing Jonathan and Jane cautiously, like he was hesitant to even be near them.  In the five years he’d known Hopper, Steve never saw him like this.  Hopper never seemed to care about what anyone thought of him.  He had some life saving wisdom, but it came out in a gravely and rough manner.  He was never worried about approaching any of the tributes.  Jonathan and Jane weren’t even particularly intimidating– if anything they looked pretty meek in comparison to some of their other tributes.

“Am I interrupting?” He asked as he walked over to the alcohol. He picked up a glass for a moment, looking at it longingly, before setting it back down on the bar cart.

Weird.

“We were just introducing ourselves,” Nancy said.

Hopper nodded, still looking down at the bar cart.  A bitter grin appeared on his face transforming into a cruel grimace.  He scoffed.  “They know me.  The whole district knows me.”

Steve sighed.  There he was.  This was closer to the Hopper he knew.  The man was all edges but it was a front.  He just didn’t let himself get attached.  It had to be easier.  He spent almost two decades watching all his tributes die until Steve came along.  He couldn’t blame Hopper for not wanting to get too comfortable with the tributes.

Nancy’s jaw clenched as she gave a tight smile to Jonathan and Jane.  She harshly looked over the back of her chair.  “Yes… but you don’t know them. ”

He shrugged, still not looking at them.  “They’re Joyce’s kids.  Maldonado–”

“Byers,” Jonathan said.  At least he was finally speaking to someone other than Jane.  “Joyce Byers.”

Hopper didn’t respond right away.  “Same thing.  She was Maldonado when I knew her.”  He finally looked at Steve.  “Are we done here today?  Looks like they’re not ready to talk strategy–”

“We were just wrapping up,” Nancy said sharply.  She looked back to Jonathan and Jane.  “Try to get some rest.  Tomorrow is a big day.”

There wasn’t a response.  

Steve let out a breath as he stood up.  “We’ll be down the hall if you need us.  She’s right.  You’re going to need to get some sleep.  Once we get to the Capitol things move quickly.”

He didn’t wait to see if they responded… he didn’t expect them to.  He just made his way towards the exit, Hopper already halfway out the door.  Steve went back to his room.  He was hoping that he’d be able to take his own advice.  He didn’t expect that he’d be able to get much sleep– if any.

Steve sat on the bed, trying to cherish the little time that he’d have to be by himself.  He knew that he’d be booked up once they reached the Capitol.  He was surprised that Barb didn’t already have an itinerary for him.  The delay probably meant some of his schedule was at the request of Brenner.  That was difficult enough.  It didn’t help that Jonathan was one of his tributes.  He’d tried so hard to keep him away from all this.  

Maybe the games would be quick that year.  He’d be able to get back home sooner, and see less of Brenner’s friends.  Steve wasn’t counting on it.  Things rarely worked in his favor.  He adjusted the settings in his room.  Sounds of the waves hitting against rocks filled the space.  He wished he could just swim away from all this.

Sleep refused to come that night.  Steve didn’t really expect that it would but he needed sleep.  He knew once he was in the Capitol there wouldn’t be any time for him to rest, and that wasn’t even considering his official mentoring duties.  He wondered which hands he’d have to shake, and which important allies of the president he’d have to charm.

After a few hours of tossing and turning, he decided to get out of the room.  He could stop by the dining car to have a bite to eat.  He may not have cared much for the luxuries the Capitol offered, but he did enjoy the food.  In Four, they had fish.  Steve wasn’t complaining, he liked fish fine, and it was definitely more of a luxury than what most of the other districts had to eat.  The food from the Capitol was a guilty pleasure.  The food wasn’t just about surviving but it was enjoyable.  He could use something enjoyable.

Steve walked into the dining cart and grabbed a pastry. He didn't want anything too heavy.  He knew there would be nonstop eating once they got there.  Every function had a boatload of food, and the last time he drank that purging inducer he came back to Four thinner than he was before he left.  He didn’t want to open that can of worms again.

He headed over to the leisure room.  He passed the beverage car and frowned.  Hopper wasn’t there.  Hopper practically lived there on these trips.  Steve was pretty sure he slept in there last year.  He didn’t dwell on it.  He had bigger things on his plate.

When he walked into the leisure room, he was surprised to see that Nancy was already in there.  It didn’t look like she was relaxing.  She had moved the table that previously had food on it, so it was off to the side a bit.  She had a few chairs around it that Steve hadn’t seen before,  she must have asked Barb or a peacekeeper to bring them in for her from another car.  She had a digital writing pad and pen in her hand.  Her brow was scrunched as she looked at the TV, before scribbling something down.

Steve glanced at the TV.  Oh.  The reapings.  He should have expected this.  Nancy did the same thing during her games.  She studied her opponents religiously before she’d even met them.  It was impressive, but he wasn’t sure how much good this strategy would do Jane and Jonathan.

“Couldn’t sleep?” He asked.

She jolted up from her seat, gripping the pen tightly as if it was a weapon.  She looked at Steve and her face relaxed.  “Sorry,” she cleared her throat.  “I didn’t see you come in.  I… ever since the games….”

“I get it,” Steve said honestly.  “Mind if I join you?”

She motioned to the chairs beside her.  “Please.”

“You notice anything interesting yet?” He asked,

“Not really.  Nothing about this group is really sticking out to me,” she said, passing the pad over to him.

Steve raised an eyebrow as he scrolled through her notes.  They were much lighter than usual.  So far she had mostly documented tributes’ heights and whether or not they had volunteered.  Nothing was really jumping out at him.

“We’ll know more when we see them all in person,” Steve said, trying to sound optimistic.  “Besides… I don’t know.  I don’t know how to help them.  This is…uncharted waters.”

Nancy frowned, swiping up on the controller to pause the television.  “Why?  I know no one wants this to happen… I like Jonathan and Jane was a friend of Mike’s but… what about them makes this different for you?  Is it the siblings thing?”

Steve rubbed his face, sighing.  “It’s… complicated.”

“It’s always complicated,” Nancy said quietly.  

“Jonathan’s not a bad fighter,” Steve said.  It was easier than going into their history.  “He kicked my ass a few years back.”

That piqued Nancy’s interest.  “That’s good to know.  If he can hold his own, that’s really good—”

“Nance… Jonathan volunteered to save his younger brother.  Do you think he’s going to be able to kill anyone in there?” Steve asked, throwing himself back in the chair.  “And then there’s Jane… you know the young ones never win this thing.”

Her jaw clenched as she brought a finger to her temple.  “ You know better than anyone that when you’re in the arena you’ll do things you never imagined to stay alive–”

“Jonathan isn’t going to try to win–”

“You know it’s not about that.  It’s about trying to survive,” she said, her voice rising.

Steve shook his head.  “Not Jonathan.  He’s no pacifist but if it’s between him and some defenseless kid, he’d rather fall on his own sword.”

Nancy’s head visibility jolted back, her mouth agape as she looked at him in disbelief.  “But that’s–”

She was cut off but the sound of the door opening.  Steve glanced at the door.  There stood Jonathan.  His arms were folded as he nervously looked between Nancy and Steve, his head hung low.

“Hi,” Nancy said, her voice softening.  “Are we in the way? The food was moved to the dining car if–”

“No, I… I’m glad I caught you,” he said, fidgeting a bit where he stood.  “I didn’t want Jane to overhear.”

Nancy’s eyes peered at Steve before moving back to Jonathan.  “ ‘Didn’t want Jane to overhear’ what exactly?”

“I need you to do everything in your power to make sure Jane wins,” he said, eyes darting to the floor.

Nancy’s face fell, the color draining from her face.  Steve felt his heart drop into his stomach.  He knew this was coming, but hearing the words leave Jonathan’s mouth made it a hundred times worse.

“That… is very admirable,” Nancy said slowly.  “But… I don’t need to tell you how hard it is for anyone to survive the games, never mind a twelve year old.”

Jonathan shrugged.  “Well, there’s a first time for everything.”

“Jonathan–”

“She’s not what you think,” Jonathan said, approaching the table.  “Jane’s mom died when she was a baby.  Her aunt looked after her until she passed from the Shoreline Influenza.  Jane was six years old, she survived in the brush for months before Will found her by accident when he took a wrong turn on his way home from school.  She was… fierce, wild– but most importantly, she’s a survivor.  I wouldn’t bet against her.”

Nancy opened her mouth but no words came out.  There was a look of pity on her face, like she was trying to figure out how to tell him that his sister was going to die no matter what the three of them discussed in that car.

“Nance, can you give us the room please?” Steve asked, his eyes glued to Jonathan.

She frowned, sighing in aggravation.  “I’ll be in the library.  There are some tapes I want to grab.”

“We won’t be long,” Steve said.  He knew that Jonathan wasn’t looking to talk to him about this, but maybe he’d listen.

Nancy stood up, walking swiftly out of the room.  He’d apologize later.  He just needed to be candid without worrying anyone else could hear about it.  He trusted Nancy, but the Capitol had eyes on her constantly.  He had to be intentional about when he let her in to the process.

“Sit, please?” Steve motioned to the chairs.

Jonathan grabbed one, but pulled it to the other side so he was sitting across from Steve.  He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, avoiding Steve’s gaze.  

“Jonathan–”

“We don’t have to do this– talk about it,” he said quietly.  “I’ll be dead this time next week anyway.”

Steve’s heart panged.  He reached across the table, cradling Jonathan’s hands gently.  For just a moment he was a twelve year old boy back on Four, having his first kiss with Jonathan behind the bait shop. 

“You don’t know that.”  His voice was soft, genuine.  Jonathan did have a chance to win this.  A fair chance.  Steve knew he wouldn’t take it though.

   Jonathan carefully withdrew his hands, rubbing his mouth and chin.  “Just… you need to help Jane.”

Steve grimaced, his lips thinning as he rubbed his forehead. He felt like he was shot in the chest.  This wasn’t about him though.  He knew this would be what Jonathan wanted.  If Jonathan was being forced to go into this arena, then the least Steve could do was honor what he wanted.  “Of course we’re gonna help Jane, but Nancy’s right.  Her odds aren’t great no matter how much of a survivor she is.  It’s not just about skills… it’s about people betting on you, and getting sponsors and… she’s a hard sell.”

“What are you talking about–”

“You know what I’m talking about.  You’ve seen it every year.  Sponsors get to send gifts, the more money you bet the higher return on the investment you get if your tribute wins.  You know this.  You need to put this in perspective here.  Young kids haven’t won… the youngest was me and I was three years older than Jane.  If you want her to win, you’re going to need to help her.”

Jonathan slowly looked up, meeting Steve’s eyes.  “I’ll do anything–”

“Then you’re going to need to try and stay alive… at least for a while,” Steve said, his stomach churning as he thought about it.  “Jane was distraught just coming on to the train.  How is she going to react to seeing your face in the sky as a fallen tribute?  Besides, you’re the easier sell.  You volunteered for your brother, old enough to be a contender, and you’re trying to look after your sister.  People will like that.”

Jonathan shook his head.  “We can’t both get home.”

“You gotta stay alive long enough for her to prove herself,” Steve said.  “If you get sponsors you can share some of the benefits with her… it’ll even help your buy-in with the Capitol.”

Jonathan bit his lip, and Steve could practically see the wheels turning in his head.  He was shaking his leg, looking off to the side.  He brought his attention back to Steve.  “You’ll help her… if I’m able to live long enough to buy her time?”

Steve nodded, looking down.  He scratched the back of his neck.  “Yeah, but you gotta promise me one thing.”

“What?”

“You’ve gotta fight, Jon.  If something happens… if Jane doesn’t make it you have to keep fighting,” Steve said, practically begging .

Jonathan huffed, giving a half-hearted shrug.  “She’s gonna make it.”

“But if she doesn’t–”

“She will,” Jonathan said firmly.

Steve threw himself back in the chair, pressing his palms to his temples before sitting back up.  “Just promise.  If you’re so sure she can win, then it won’t matter anyway.”

“Fine,” Jonathan said.  “I promise.”

 

Jonathan wasn’t sure what he was playing at.  He didn’t care much.  All that mattered was that Jane made it out of this okay.  He was just fine being collateral damage, even if Steve didn’t want him to be.

“What do I need to do?” He asked.

Steve frowned, scratching the side of his head.  “You should get some rest.”

There was no way he was going to get any sleep after the day they’d just had.  Just because he accepted that he was going to die didn’t mean he was overly excited about it.  “We can start now–”

“No,” Steve said, jabbing his finger towards him.  “You need to let me do my job, and I can’t do that at this hour.”

Jonathan gave him an exasperated look.  “Did you sleep… when you were in my shoes?”

Steve blinked at him.  He took a deep breath as he leaned back in the chair.  “I should have.  I’m telling you, you’re going to need as much rest as you can get.  I know you’re putting on a brave face for Jane.  Go lay down.  Feel your feelings.  We’ll get to work in a few hours.”

Jonathan wanted to push, but he was grateful that Steve was willing to look after Jane.  He didn’t want to push his luck too far.  Things were still murky between him and Steve.  He wasn’t going to give him any excuse to renege on their agreement.

He nodded.  “Okay.”

Steve’s face relaxed, sighing.  “Thank you.”

Jonathan didn’t answer.  He just turned around and walked out of the car.  He padded down the hall, doing his best not to disturb anyone.  He liked to blend in as much as possible.  The last thing he needed was to be seen as difficult.  That would only make things harder for him and Jane in the arena.  

If Steve was going to protect Jane outside the arena, then Jonathan was going to do everything in his power to look after her inside it too.  He’d never killed anyone before.  In fact, the only thing he’d ever killed was because Lonnie made him.  He’d take him out on the bay to go crabbing.  Jonathan always wanted to let the crabs back in the ocean.  

Lonnie didn’t indulge him in that.  They had to bring the crabs down to the market– a large chunk of them would be sent to the capitol, with a small percentage available for the wealthier residents of the district to purchase.  Lonnie would always save two or three for the house.  He made Jonathan boil them as punishment for letting a few of them back into the ocean one day.  

Jonathan cried for a week.

How was he supposed to kill people if he couldn’t even kill a crab without having regrets?  The thought of him having to kill a kid that was Jane and Will’s age made his stomach churn. He wasn’t a killer– not that the others were.  Jonathan knew that the kill or be killed reality would likely bring out parts of him that he didn’t know existed, but he also knew that the guilt might eat him alive before anyone else was able to get the jump on him.

Would Jane be able to do it?  

He knew she was a survivor.  He had little doubt that she’d be able to hold her own and brave the elements, but to take a life… that was something he never wanted to ask of her.  Jonathan didn’t know what Jane had to do to survive on her own when she was young.  She didn’t talk about it, and he didn’t ask.  He’d hoped that she’d never be put in a situation where she had to fend for herself ever again.  Yet here they were.

Jonathan slunk into his bedroom.  It was so strange.  This room was about half the size of his house.  He knew the Capitol had luxuries, but he didn’t think about how everything seemed to be more luxurious than Four.  Four wasn’t even a particularly poor district.  It was probably one of the more thriving ones. Still, nothing he’d seen on the train alone could compare to the accommodations in Four.

He laid down on the bed.  Oh.  It was so soft he felt like he was laying on a cloud.  It made his bed at home feel like he was sleeping on a pile of rocks in comparison.  At least if he was going to die, he’d be comfortable leading up to it.  That was something.  

His eyelids were heavy.  Maybe Steve had a point.  Sleep sounded like a good idea.  His eyes began to brim as he finally let the reality of the day crash over him.  He was going to die.  That was certain.  Jane had a chance, but nothing in the games was a sure thing.  There was a strong possibility that even if he sacrificed himself, she wouldn’t make it home.

That scared him more than his own demise.

Jonathan would make this choice a hundred times over if it meant he could look after Jane and save Will from this.  Distantly, he was relieved that Barb picked Will’s name.  If she didn’t, Jonathan wouldn’t have volunteered, and then Jane would have been on her own.  This was better.  He could buy her more time this way.  

Still, just because he knew he made the right choice, it didn’t change the fact that he didn’t want to die.  If he had it his way, he and Jane would be back on Four with Mom and Will.  He’d be getting ready to go off on a longer fishing journey, probably as a deckhand or something, when he turned eighteen and Jane would just be a kid.  But here they were–due to nothing more than rotten luck.

The sun peeked through the window of the train.  Jonathan blinked.  He must have gotten some sleep.  It wasn’t restful, his face was wet, his eyes ached, and the exhaustion from the day before hadn’t lessened.  There was a small part of him that expected to wake up in Four, instead of still on the train to hell.

He got up and stalked down the hall.  Jonathan had no idea what hour it was, and didn’t want to disturb anyone.  It was strange, how even still he didn’t want to inconvenience anyone.  His feet led him to the dining car.  His stomach grumbled the moment Jonathan was standing in front of the door.  

Nothing could have prepared Jonathan for what he saw when he stepped inside.  Jane was there, eating.  That was something.  Jim Hopper was sitting with her, saying something Jonathan couldn’t quite make out.  His tone was light, and Jane seemed to look less distraught than she was the day before.  Her eyes were brighter, a small smirk on her lips as she listened to whatever it was Jim was saying.

It was strange. Hopper was usually so rough and tough, but with Jane he was like a big teddy bear.

Jonathan was glad. She could use a little reprieve from everything surrounding them.  It would only get harder from here.  At least someone was being kind to her.  Maybe Hopper would look after her once Jonathan was gone.  If he was lucky, maybe he’d even look in on his mom and Will too.  He could only imagine what it was like for them back home.

Mom was always… eccentric.  After Lonnie died, she was more than fragile.  It was like she was made of glass and there were already tiny microscopic splinters threatening to shatter her completely.  It wasn’t entirely fair to think of her in that way.  There were some days when she was almost back to her old self.  On the bad days though….

“Jonathan, good morning,” Nancy’s voice met his ears.  He glanced to the side.  Nancy and Steve were sitting at the table off to the side.  He hadn’t seen it when he stepped inside.

He opened his mouth to speak but the wind was knocked out of him.  Jane had crashed into him, wrapping him in a tight embrace.  She didn’t say anything, but Jonathan didn’t expect her to.  There wasn’t much that either could have said that could possibly express the affection and fear they shared for each other.

“Did you get some sleep?” Jonathan asked instead.  It was something he’d ask her back home.  Jane was a rotten sleeper.  She always had been.  He’d hoped the sedative they gave her yesterday may have helped her get some sleep.

She gave a shrug, her curls bouncing.  “A little.”

Jonathan nodded.  It was something.  He almost thought for a miniscule moment that he should mention this to their mother, but he remembered.  He wouldn’t be mentioning anything to his mother ever again.

“Did you… sleep?” Jane asked quietly.

“A little,” he echoed.  “Is the breakfast good?”  

She grinned, taking his hand and leading him over to the table.  Hopper gave him a gruff nod, before he got up and walked over to the other table where Steve and Nancy were sitting.  Jonathan sat beside Jane, and let her fill his plate with all the foods she’d tried.  Apparently a sweet, pastry type food that looked with a gridded wheel was her favorite.  It was called a waffle.  He’d never had anything quite like it back on Four.  It wasn’t bad, just a bit too sweet for his liking.

He heard light murmuring from the table in the corner.  Nancy, Steve, and Hopper were discussing something.  Probably them, if he had to venture a guess.  He hoped Steve was going to make good on his promise.  Jonathan wasn’t coming home, he’d accepted that.  Jane had to survive.

“We’re supposed to get there today,” she said quietly.  

Jonathan nodded.  “That part should be nice though.  You’ve seen how nice the Capitol looks on TV.  We’ll get to see it in person now.”

She shrugged, pushing the rest of the food around on her plate.  “I’d rather watch it at home.”

“Me too,” he said honestly.

The sound of someone clearing their throat cut through the room.  There was Barb standing there with a clipboard and a bunch of folders.

“Good morning,” she said.  “I have your itineraries for the week.  Jonathan, Jane, when we arrive you’ll meet your stylist and be presented to the Capitol.”

Jonathan let out a disgruntled sigh as he felt a grimacing smirk appear on his lips.  He hated this.  The presentations were disturbing.  They dressed the tributes up to show off to the Capitol like dancing monkeys.

He wouldn’t be good at it.

Jonathan was used to blending in.  He did his absolute best not to stand out or draw too much attention to himself.  It was a habit.  Flying under Lonnie’s radar was a skill he’d perfected back when he was about seven years old.  How was he about to strut and showboat for the Capitol?  Would he be able to do it without messing it up? This was important for getting sponsors.  Jane needed him to get sponsors.  If he fucked this up, would it ruin everything for them moving forward?

“It’s easy,” Nancy piped up, practically reading his mind.  “Your stylists will handle everything.  All you need to do is follow their instructions.  We’ll go over everything else after.  No matter how ridiculous it seems, trust your stylist.”

  Jonathan frowned.  He wasn’t sure he believed her.  The stylists usually dressed the tributes from Four up as fishermen.  The poor kids last year had fishing poles and bucket hats with rubber boots, and overalls.  The alternative was to have them scantily clad.  Steve’s costume was a bit scandalous at the time.  They had him shirtless with shimmering body paint in the form of seaweed across his chest.  His shorts– if you could even call them that were tight, barely covering the tops of his thighs and made of seashells.  He was only fifteen.  Jonathan had a hard time seeing how either option would do them much good.

“Are you sure there’s nothing we should do or… try to influence–”

“No,” Nancy cut him off.  “It’s not worth arguing with the stylists.  Save your efforts for later.”

Nancy’s costume had also been a bit unorthodox.  Her stylist had shells covering her breasts and groin, but otherwise they used iridescent body glitter and pain to emulate scales.  He thought she of all people would recommend he push back against the stylists.

“She’s right,” Steve chimed in.  “There’s no use.  A lot of these stylists are just trying to make a name for themselves.  If their designs are well received by the public, they’ll get more opportunities outside of the games.  It’s not worth it trying to get them to listen to you.  We can work with a subpar outfit, we can’t work with you being labeled as difficult before you’ve even started training.  Trust us.  The last thing you should be worrying about is the styling.”

Jonathan felt his face burn.  It was stupid, he knew it was stupid.  With everything going on, he shouldn’t have been wasting time thinking about the costume but… he was already more vulnerable and exposed than he’d ever been before.  He didn’t want to be physically bare and exposed too.  

Jane took another bite of her waffle.  “Maybe, it’ll be pretty.  Some of the costumes are pretty.”

That hurt worse.  

For Jane this was dress up.  She didn’t connect how this was leading up to and contributing to the way things would go in the arena.  The idea that some Capitol stylist might truss her up like a prize cow to show off made his stomach lurch.  She deserved so much better than this.

“Maybe,” he said instead.  Jane had enough on her mind,  The last thing she needed was for him to squash that one sliver of optimism.

“After the parade we’ll go up to the rooms and talk strategy,” Nancy continued.  “For now, just worry about following the stylists instructions. Don’t engage with any of the other tributes.  That’ll come later.”

Jonathan nodded, placing his fork down on the plate.  He’d lost his appetite.  Dying was one thing.  All these tasks leading up to it were the real test.  If he didn’t have to think about Jane in all this, it’d be different– he wouldn’t have to care.  He had to care now.  Jane had to get home.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Barb hand a folder to Nancy and Steve.  Steve shifted a bit in his seat, exchanging a glance with Nancy.  Hopper was handed a pamphlet.  Right their Capitol press tours.  They really hardly roped Hopper into this stuff.  Nancy was a newer victor so they like to have her on fluff programs, mostly for quick fluff segments or to have her model or endorse a product.  Steve was the real star.  He was all over Capitol TV during the games.  He was hailed Panem’s most eligible bachelor a year or so ago.  He must have been overbooked for this.  

Jonathan took that to mean that Steve likely wouldn’t be around much for the actual mentoring part of this.  He was almost relieved.  Things with Steve were complicated.  As much as he hated to admit it, Steve was…complicated.  Rather, their history was more complicated than he cared to admit.  Jonathan never let anyone get too close.  Steve got the closest .  Which wasn’t even all that close, if he was being honest but there were moments.  A fleeting kiss behind the bait shop, Steve and him sneaking out by the boardwalk for a late night swim.  Steve even brought him a pearl he found from an oyster he’d caught by the beach once.  It was still in his bedroom.

Then Steve’s games happened and he acted like Jonathan didn’t even exist.  Jonathan never felt more justified in not letting anyone get too close.  Now here he was, about to die, and Steve was going to get a front row seat.  He was probably happy about this.  Steve clearly hated him for some reason, so this must have been the best news in the world to him.  Except it didn’t seem that way.  Steve had the audacity to act like he was worried about him, as if he didn’t spend the past five years pretending Jonathan didn’t exist.

Jane scooted closer to him, gripping his forearm.  He glanced up and saw it from the window.  The Capitol.  There were giant looming buildings and flashing lights.  It took a moment for him to register that the lights were coming from cameras.  Oh right.  People were waiting to just catch a glimpse of them. He’d never understand that, wanting to be so close to people that you were hoping to see dead.  

Nancy met his eye and gave him a sympathetic smile.  “We just have to get you inside for styling.  You don’t have to talk to anyone until then.”

Steve gave a disgruntled sigh.  “It can’t hurt to smile and wave… seem likeable–”

“No,” Hopper interjected.  “He’s the older brother who volunteered, she’s the young girl no one volunteered for.  Walk in together.  The little one should be under his arm, and he should be trying to shield her from the lights.”

Jonathan nodded.  He could do that.  He was kind of planning to do that anyway.  It wasn’t technically a plan as he didn’t really give it much thought until right that second, but he certainly wasn’t going to just smile and wave.  He was never the smile and wave kind of guy as it was.

Steve made a face.  “Isn’t that kind of laying it on thick?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Hopper said dismissively.  “You know these people don’t look too deeply into the crap we sell them.  They’re happy to buy into it as long as the story’s juicy enough.  They’ll eat this shit up.”

“It’s not shit,” Jonathan muttered.  “It’s not an act. Jane is as much my sister as Will’s my brother.  It’s not a ruse to get more people interested.  I just want to keep her safe.”

“Save it for the interview, kid,” Hopper said.  “You don’t need to convince me.  It doesn't matter whether or not I buy into it.  It’s about them.” He motioned out the window.

Jonathan rolled his eyes.  “I don’t really care if they believe it, it’s the truth.”

“If you want to ‘keep her safe’ then you better hope they believe you,” Hopper said, crossing his arms as he sat back in his chair.  “They’re the ones who are going to be sponsors.”

Jonathan huffed, shaking his head.  He hated that Hopper was right– that Jane’s life was dependent on whether or not people felt connected with a “storyline.”  Except, it wasn’t just a storyline.  This wasn’t a fiction.  This was real.  There were real lives on the line, and the Capitol reduced them to storybook characters.  It made him sick.

Jane’s grip on his arm tightened.  He didn’t want to make her even more nervous and upset than she already was.  They were both in hell, and Jonathan wasn’t going to throw gasoline on the hellfire.

“Whatever you think is best,” he said weakly.  He gave a supportive pat to her back, hoping that could give some sort of comfort or reassurance.  He hoped it would work.

Hopper nodded.  He must have picked up on Jane’s anxiety, because his tone softened.  “You volunteered.  No one is going to have a hard time believing that you two are looking out for each other.  Selling the narrative is the easy bit.  The visual reminders just help reinforce it.”

That made sense.  The Capitol’s whole programming involved reading into body language, and dissecting every little word a tribute said.  It couldn’t hurt for them to have a consistent image.  He didn’t want to give anyone a reason to doubt them.  Jane needed sponsors.  That was the only way she’d make it out alive.

“Any other words of wisdom?” Jonathan asked meekly.  

Hopper shook his head.  “After.”

Right.  Apparently their mentors believed they were too dumb to think about multiple things at once.  Now that was such a confidence booster.  In all honesty, he’d prefer if they went over some actual strategy.  Jonathan had no idea what to expect going into this.  

The train began to slow.  Jane’s eyes widened as she looked around the car in a panic, her breath picking up.  Jonathan did his best to give her a reassuring smile.  He wasn’t convinced it’d do much good.  She had every right to be terrified.  Hell, Jonathan was terrified.  

“It’s all right,” Nancy said.  “It’ll be a little while before we disembark.  They like to stagger it.  There should be some clothing for you in the bedrooms to change into.  Once it’s time you two will be led out first and then we’ll be right behind you.”

“Right,” Barb said, glancing at the clock on the wall.  “You two should go and get changed.”

Jane gave him a pleading look.  He wished he could send her home away from all of this.  She didn’t deserve this.  No one did, but least of all Jane.  She’d already suffered enough.  She didn’t need to add anything else to the list.

Jonathan gave a tight smile as he slid out of his chair.  He gave Jane a supportive nod, and she followed suit, slowly standing up.  He wanted to say something encouraging.  He just didn’t have the words.  He wasn’t sure the words existed.

He led the way out of the dining car, Jane trailing a bit behind him.  He just had to put on a brave face and act like everything was fine.  If he showed her how terrified he really was, it’d only add to her existing fear.  The last thing he wanted was to add fuel to the fire.

Jane’s bed car came up first.  He turned back to face her as he passed it.  She gave him a nervous wave before opening the door and slipping inside.  At least it didn’t look like she’d need to be sedated again.  God that was almost the worst part of this– seeing his little sister restrained and a long needle shoved into her arm.  His stomach lurched just thinking about it.

Jonathan turned back to continue down the hall.  He was a few doors down from her.  He stepped inside and walked over to the wardrobe.  Oh.  He wasn’t sure what to expect, but the peacekeepers must have gone to the house before the train departed.  Everything in there looked like it was something he already owned.

What was he supposed to wear?  He had no idea what dress code was expected when heading right to certain death.  Should he have asked Steve or Nancy for some guidance?  Would wearing the wrong clothes be bad for them? Could he mess up their chances for sponsors so soon?

He took out a light colored shirt and a pair of slacks.  He figured that would be safer than shorts and tank top.  He didn’t even know what weather to expect in the Capitol.  Maybe he’d be too cool or too warm or something.  What if he got sick before getting into the arena?  He wouldn’t be much use to Jane if he got killed because he sneezed too loudly on the first night.  

Jonathan walked out into the corridor and went back to Jane’s car.  He might not be able to shield her from this, but he could at least hold her hand through it.  He knocked lightly against the door.  It slid open a crack, and he could just see Jane’s big brown eyes looking up at him.

The door opened the rest of the way.  Jane slammed into him, hugging his side tightly.  He could feel her hands trembling against his abdomen.  At least she wasn’t screaming this time.  He wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle hearing her shriek like that again.  It was blood curdling.  He’d never heard her make a noise like that before, and he’d rather die than hear it again.

“I got you,” he said softly.  He did.  He just hoped it’d be enough.  Jane was a survivor, but it took a lot more than good instincts to win these games.  Even if Jonathan was able to help her through, the chances of getting her home were still a long shot– especially if their mentors didn’t share his faith in her.

She nodded against him.  “Yeah.”

“You don’t have to sell it just yet,” Hopper’s voice called from behind them.

“We’re not,” he said quietly.  “She’s my sister and she’s scared.  It’s not an act.”  It wasn’t.  He’d stayed up on many sleepless nights with both Jane and Will.  Whether they were sick or had a nightmare or just couldn’t sleep, they came to him.  This would be the easiest part of dying– taking care of his little sister.

Hopper didn’t respond other than to give a grunt.  It was like he was trying to figure them out.  Jonathan couldn’t imagine that many tributes came into this ready to play a game and strategize.  They had a handful of victors and were known to align with some of the other more domineering districts, but it wasn’t exactly fruitful.  Four wasn’t a place where people volunteered for the glory.  Then again, no one expected Nancy to win the way she did, and she wasn’t the only tribute to take people by surprise.  Maybe people were more strategic than Jonathan believed.

“Just walk right in,” Steve reiterated.  “Barb will lead the way.  We’ll be right behind you.  Trust the stylists and we’ll touch base after the procession.”

Jonathan swallowed thickly.  He nodded.  He wasn’t sure if there was anything else for him to say.  The instructions were clear.  They’d have to be morons to fuck it up.  That said, it was important.  The procession was the Capitol’s biggest night.  This would be aired and reaired an obscene amount of times across Panem.  It mattered, and they had no control over it.  This part rested solely with the stylists.  Jonathan hated that.  He’d like to have as much power over this as possible.

Barb walked over to them and motioned.  “Just behind me.  I’ll introduce you to your stylist– I hear you’re in for a real treat this year.”

It took all his willpower not to scoff.  This wasn’t a treat.  He couldn’t care less how talented the stylist was or wasn’t.  He didn’t want to feel like a piece of meat being dressed up for auction.  He knew better than to verbalize this.  The only thing it would do is upset Jane more than she already was.

Barb began to walk, and Jonathan led Jane after her, clutching her hand tightly.  Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw when they stepped off the train and onto the platform.  There was a swarm of people, lights were flashing, and if that wasn’t enough, the Capitol was even more intimidating in person than it was from the train.  The buildings were obscenely tall, and oddly shaped.  Everything there was brightly colored and vibrant.  It was different from the vibrance of Four… this felt artificial.  Four was bright with blues from the ocean and colorful sunsets.  This was different, flashy.  Jonathan could tell just by glancing at it that it was expensive . 

He tucked Jane under his arm, and used his free hand to block the light from his eyes as he tried his best to keep up with Barb.  It wasn’t even that she was moving too quickly or anything, he was just so disoriented by everything that he was impressed he was standing upright.  People were saying things, calling out to them.  He couldn’t make out a word of it.  He was almost glad for it, he wasn’t sure what he’d say if he could hear them.

They finally made it inside one of the buildings.  It was quiet… much quieter.  It was as if the door closing silenced everything.  The silence was almost as unnerving as the noise from the crowd.  The clicking of Barb’s heels echoed as Jonathan trailed behind her, still gripping onto Jane tightly.

“Just this way,” she said, looking back over her shoulder at them.  She led them down another hall, and stopped in front of the fourth door on the right.  She motioned to it.  “This is your stop.  Your styling team should be right inside.  The others and I will meet you after.”

“Okay,” he said dumbly.  He almost thanked her, but stopped himself.  He wasn’t going to thank her for leading them to their demise.  He had to take whatever small stand he could, even if he was the only one who knew about it.

He took a deep breath and made eye contact with Jane.  She nodded, and they both stepped inside the room.  It was a white, harshly lit room.  There were way more people there than Jonathan would have anticipated.  There had to be about twenty people in there chittering, not yet noticing him and Jane.

That didn’t last long.  Just a few moments after they stepped inside, a hush fell over the room.  All twenty pairs of eyes were on them, and Jonathan never wanted to disappear more than in that moment.  A few whispers began to meet his ears as a few people walked over to them.

“We have to get you prepped first,” one of them said.

Jonathan didn’t have a chance to respond because someone else walked over and tried to lead Jane away.  “No, don’t! Don’t take her–”

“It’s all right,” the first person spoke again.  “This is just for now.  You’ll see each other at the carriages.”

Out of the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of some movement.  A peacekeeper was approaching.  Jonathan released his grip on her, and gave her a reassuring nod as he took a step back.  “I’ll see you soon.”

Panic appeared in her eyes, but she didn’t fight it.  She let herself be led to the corner of the impossibly long room, only looking back to him once or twice.  Good.  If they didn’t have to sedate her that was a win.

“Come this way,” someone said, as he was ushered to the other side of the room.  He reluctantly obliged.  With all the battles to come, this was the one least worth fighting.  He could let them dress him up like a plaything.  He’d even smile and wave for them.  The worst was still yet to come– they’d barely even started yet.  What a humiliating way to die.

They stripped him down and made him get in some sort of industrial shower.  The water pressure was almost painful as it hit his skin.  Someone scrubbed him down, because he apparently couldn’t be trusted to do a well enough job.  Somehow that felt more horrible than the knowledge that he’d be expected to fight for his life in a few days.

It was like an assembly line after that.  Someone would do something to his hair.  Someone else would wax parts of his body that he didn’t even know he had.  Then he was sprayed with something that smelled good but strong.  They plastered his face with paint, all while not even speaking at him.  

The one good thing about this was it gave him a chance to not worry about Jane.  He was too preoccupied with all the ways he was being poked and prodded to think about the fact that she was likely experiencing the same thing across the room.

Finally, it all stopped.  He was in a robe, waiting to be dressed, but at least they were done with their primping.  He was almost glad there wasn’t a mirror for him to look into yet.  He was sure he wouldn’t be able to recognize what he saw.

“Hi,” a soft spoken redheaded woman approached him.  She looked only a year or two older than him.  She seemed to be the least over the top person he saw since arriving in the Capitol– at least when it came to her clothes.  She wore muted colors and her hair and makeup were understated, her hair shorter and not overly vivid.  

He gave a tight smile.  He wasn’t sure who this was or what she wanted.  It seemed like this was the safest option.

“I’m Vickie.  I’m the stylist for District Four,” she said, pulling a chair up to him.

“Jonathan,” he introduced himself.  

She gave him a knowing look.  “I saw you volunteered for your brother.”

He nodded, not sure how to respond to that.  The entire country had seen him volunteer for Will.  He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say about that.  He didn’t want to think about Will back in Four worrying about both him and Jane.

“I was moved by your bravery.  I want to do right by you and Jane.  I may not be able to do much but… I can at least make sure your clothing wins you some favor,” she said.  “I have a slightly unconventional idea, but I promise it won’t be anything too risque or uninspired.”

He cleared his throat.  “Yeah.  Okay.  Thanks.” 

Jonathan almost kicked himself for thanking her.  Even if she was being sincere, she was still a part of this.  How many other kids had she dressed up to send to their deaths?  How many would there be after him?

She gave him a kind smile as she nodded.  “I’ve put some clothes for you behind the privacy partition.  Take your time and get changed.  We’ll make sure it’s all fitting right and make any adjustments to make sure you’re comfortable.”

He didn’t respond.  He looked over to the corner where the partition was and walked over there.  It was almost mechanical, like his body had a mind of its own.  He didn’t even register what the garment looked like as he slipped the top and bottoms on.  Once he was done, he moved out from behind the partition.

She studied him, her eyes scanning over him.  “I think I need to make some minor adjustments.”  She walked up to him and began moving the fabric around a bit.  “Let me know if it’s comfortable.”

He nodded.  “It’s fine.”  It was.  It wasn’t exactly something he’d sleep in but he wasn’t particularly uncomfortable either.

Vickie hummed as she walked around him, making a few stitches here and there as she went.  “Come with me.”

He followed after her as she led him into another room.  He walked a bit gingerly, fearful that he’d damage this outfit in some way.  He wasn’t sure, but he was worried the Capitol would find a way to fine his mom for damages incurred or something.

She stopped in front of a mirror and pulled him in front of it.  “What do you think?”

Jonathan wasn’t sure what he was looking at right away.  His eyes went to the clothing initially.  The first thing that got his attention was the headpiece.  They must have put that on him when they were working on his hair.  His hair was almost intentionally disheveled.  It looked like it was made of seashells, creating a dome-like shape.  Oh– no.  It wasn’t a dome.  It looked like the head of a jellyfish.  His short, unruly hair mimicking the tentacles.  There were thick tassel-like pieces of fabric that looked as though they were wrapped around his torso and legs, as if the tendrils had wrapped themselves around him.  There were longer fringed ruffles dangling from his sleeves, and pant legs.  The vibrant pinks and purple coloring was almost glowing in the light, not unlike the way sunlight reflected off water.  

He zeroed in on his face.  He almost didn’t recognize himself.  There was vibrant pink and purple eyeshadow boldly spread across his eyelids.  His face looked more angular than he had ever seen it.  There were little jewels in the corner of his eyes, and his face was shimmering.  

Jonathan didn’t know what to think of it.  It wasn’t what he was expecting– in a good way.  He was glad not to be dressed as a fisherman or nearly nude.  Still, this wasn’t him.  He wasn’t sure it was anyone.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” he said.  He hoped that would be enough for Vickie.

She kindly didn’t ask whether or not that was positive or negative feedback.  “I think it’s a good representation of you and Jane.  Seemingly peaceful creatures that can be lethal if necessary.  At least that’s how I’ll be describing it to the Capitol.”

Jonathan nodded.  Right.  This was about selling an image.  They could work with something like this.  “Thanks.”

She gave him a sad smile as she held her arms close to her.  “I just want to do my part and give you two the best possible shot.”

“Why?” he heard himself ask before he even knew he was speaking.  “I just mean… well–why?”

Vickie gave a hollow laugh.  “Not everyone feels the same way about the games and… seeing you volunteer for your brother, and how you tried to comfort Jane when she was reaped.  I just thought someone like that should have the most support possible.”

“Is Jane ready?” Jonathan asked, not sure how to respond to that.  He wasn’t trying to be a hero.  He just wanted to protect Will, and now he was going to do his best to make sure Jane got home.

She nodded.  “I just need to add a few finishing touches to her.  The sizing was off on hers by a lot.  She’s… so… tiny.  My assistant is taking her outfit in and then she’ll be good to go.”

“What are we supposed to do?” Jonathan asked.  He wasn’t even really sure if Vickie had an answer.  “I mean… do we wave or….”

She shook her head.  “Some of them will, some will act disinterested.  Not you.  You’ll hold Jane’s hand, let her lean on you, maybe whisper a few things in her ear to encourage her.  This fanfare doesn’t concern you.  The only thing you need to focus on is her.”

Jonathan felt relief crash over him.  He could do that.  He’d been worrying about Jane since she first entered his life.  “Okay, sounds easy enough.”

She gave him a sad look.  “Maybe, but it’s loud, bright.  Do your best not to get distracted by it all.  Believe me it can be overwhelming.”

“This whole experience is overwhelming,” he muttered under his breath.  The spectacle of the procession was the least of his worries.  He could tune out the crowd if it could help Jane’s case.

“I didn’t mean–”

“I know,” he said shortly.  “I can handle it.  Just… tell me when it’s time.”

She pursed her lips.  “I’ll go make sure Jane is ready and then you two can head out to the carriages.”

He sighed as he tore his eyes away from the stranger in the mirror.  “Should I wait back by where we just came from?” 

She shook her head.  “No.  You can come with me.”  Vickie began walking hastily back through the room moving in the direction Jane had been led off to before.  He realized as they walked through that the room was essentially cut in half and mirrored itself.  He was walking past the same beauty stations that he had been dragged through before.

They halted in front of another partition.  There was another woman there, her hair almost looked aluminium, and her eyes almost looked like a kaleidoscope.  It was almost grotesque, and he had a feeling this was considered peak fashion in the Capitol.

“She’s just back there,” the frightening woman said.   “Poor thing is too nervous to come out.”

Jonathan’s heart sank.  It wasn’t fair that she had to do this.  She deserved so much better. 

Vickie nodded.  “That’s okay, I can go to her.”  She slowly slunk back behind the screen.  He heard some shuffling a few murmurs he couldn’t quite make out.  It didn’t sound particularly malicious, but he knew that Jane could respond venomously when cornered.

“Is it comfortable, Jane?” Jonathan asked weakly.  He hoped that the sound of his voice could provide her with at least a little solace.

The noises ceased and just a few moments later, Jane’s head peeked around the side of the partition.  “It’s okay.”

He nodded.  “Yeah.  Mine too.  This is the easy part.  You just gotta get on that carriage with me, and hold my hand.  That’s it.  You did harder work with Mom down at the market.”

She looked down for a moment before taking a deep breath.  She stepped out from behind the partition.  She slowly brought her eyes up to meet his, anticipation written all over her face.

Jonathan took a moment to take the sight in.  She looked beautiful.  She had a tiara made of seaglass and shells.  They must have added something to her head to make her curls longer, reaching just beyond her shoulders.  The neckline of the bodice was just at her collar bones, made almost entirely of different colored sea glass with thin straps instead of sleeves.  At the waistline, there was a mesh or netted fabric that puffed out slightly, matching his mushroom shaped headpiece.  The skirt had brightly colored tassels or fringes giving the illusion of jellyfish tentacles.  Her makeup was a bit less drastic than his.  Her glossed lips were light pink opposed to his harsh purple.  She had a bit of pink on her cheeks and eyelids, with the matching gems in the corner of her eyes.

He felt a wave of nausea hit him.  For just a split second he could picture her older, grown.  He could imagine her on her wedding day or attending Will’s and Jonathan wouldn’t be there to see it.  This would be the closest he would ever get to seeing her all dressed up for a big event, and it was all to lead her to a slaughter.

Jonathan cleared his throat as he tried to give her a convincing smile.  “Have you looked in the mirror yet?  You look lovely.”  It was true.  It was a bit over the top, and not like anything Jane would actually wear by choice, but she looked both so young and so grown up at the same time.

Jane shook her head, her eyes scanning the room.  “I haven’t.”

Vickie cocked her head to the side, motioning for Jane to come with her.  “There’s one right over here.  I want to know what you think.”  She looked back over at Jonathan.  “You’re welcome to join us too.”

He didn’t need to be told twice.  Jonathan followed behind them, his eyes locked on Jane.  If he could keep his eyes on her, he knew she was there– that she was as safe as she could possibly be in this place.  They turned a corner, and there was a mirror.

Jane studied herself, her eyes wide as she scanned her image.  He had to imagine it was similar to how he felt.  That it was hard to recognize herself.  “It looks– I look pretty.”

“More than pretty,” Vickie said kindly.  “Jane Ives, you’re quite a looker.  I bet you’re quite the heartbreaker back in Four.”

Jane’s face flushed as she gave a nervous laugh.  She looked back over her shoulder at Jonathan, silently asking for reassurance.

He nodded, doing his best to put his feelings aside. The last thing Jane needed to know was that Jonathan was overcome with morose feelings over the moments he was going to make.  “She’s right.  You look great, Jane.”

Jane smiled shyly at that.  He was brought right back to reality.  Jane wasn’t close to being grown up.  She was just a kid, blushing over a compliment after getting dressed up with makeup.  It made his stomach churn.

Vickie glanced at the clock and let out a low hiss.  “We should get you two over to the carriages.  This isn’t something you want to be late for.”

Jonathan nodded, doing his best to give Jane a reassuring smile.  He didn’t say anything.  The two of them didn’t rely on words to communicate.  Will usually talked enough for the three of them.  Jonathan liked to watch– to keep an eye on those around him.  Jane was similar, but he got the feeling she was quiet because she didn’t trust others to hear what she had to say.  Jane had already been dealt a rotten hand in life, he sometimes thought that if she started to talk about what her life was like before they took her in, she might never stop.

She gave him a knowing look as she stepped closer to him.  She gripped his hand tightly.  She wasn’t trembling anymore, so that was something.  As odd as it was, the longer they were in this situation the calmer she was getting.  Maybe that meant she’d have a clear head by the time they entered the arena.

The walk out of the building was shorter than the one into the room.  There was another exit that led them almost directly to the carriages.  Vickie led them to the fourth one.  Jonathan helped Jane inside before stepping inside too.  

Vickie gave him a look.  “Just remember what we talked about.”

“Yeah, hold her hand.  Look at her.  Comfort her.  Don’t worry about the crowd,” he regurgitated back to her.

“Don’t pay attention to Brenner either,” she said firmly.  “Jane’s the only thing you look at.  You’ll see plenty of Brenner later.”

Right.  The president.  With everything going on, he completely forgot that the president would be there too.  It was good that she reminded him, it would have been impossible to ignore Brenner if he wasn’t expecting to see him.  It wasn’t everyday you were face to face with the president.

“Got it,” he said.  “I’ll ignore him too.”

“Some of my team will meet you in the rooms after to help take the makeup off.  I’ll see you both in the morning.  I’m sure your mentors will have a lot to discuss with you tonight, and I’d hate to take time away from that,” she said.  “Just do what we discussed and you’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” he said.  He glanced at Jane.  Her eyes were wide, and it took Jonathan a moment to realize why.  The noise.  He initially thought it was something industrial but the buzzing in his ear wasn’t buzzing.  It was people talking.  There had to be hundreds of spectators waiting to see them.  

He didn’t need to wait for the horses to take off.  Jonathan put an arm around Jane’s shoulders.  “It’s all right.”

“Why?” She asked.  Jonathan knew what she meant.  Why would all these people want to see them?  These were the same people that would be cheering for them to die.

He didn’t have long to think about it.  The carriages began to move, and his eyes stayed glued to Jane.  He wasn’t sure he could look away if he wanted to.  Her big eyes scanned the crowd as she leaned closer to him.

“It’s okay,” he muttered uselessly.  He wasn’t even sure if she could hear him.  The crowd was so much louder once they all came into view.

Jonathan could just make out a few whispers about jellyfish and how small Jane looked.  He wasn’t sure if that was supposed to be a good or bad thing.  He had bigger things to worry about.

Jane seemed to be overwhelmed.  He could feel her breathing picking up as they rode through the procession.  He rubbed her shoulder encouragingly.  If she couldn’t hear him, maybe she’d be able to find some comfort from this.

“We’re almost there,” he said, leaning forward to whisper in her ear.  He wasn’t sure if that was true, but it couldn’t be much longer now.  He’d sat through several of these on TV.  The processions were short.  It was just a first look, nothing substantial.

The worst of it was when the carriage stopped.  They were four of twelve so they’d be waiting for the remaining eight to pull up.  That was when he truly had a hard time to keep from looking at the crowd or, he presumed, Brenner.  He had no idea how long they were stopped for, or how many carriages they were waiting on.  It felt agonizingly slow.

Eventually, the carriages moved again and he felt relief.  The horses moved a bit quicker this time, like they were eager to get them out of sight again.  He supposed it must have been a risk.  There were cameras on everyone, and there was only so much control the Capitol would exercise before the games.  They wouldn’t give the tributes much time to do or say anything against the Capitol.

The carriages stopped and Jonathan hopped down before helping Jane out of it.  Nancy and Barb were waiting for them.  Interesting.  No Steve or Hopper.

“Let’s lead you to our floor,” Nancy said, clutching her arms close to herself.

Barb motioned for them to follow her.  “Great job, you two.  Yes, it’s just this way.  The elevator is already waiting for us.  Hopper is up in the room, and Steve will be joining us later.  This will be a good time to unwind before talking strategy.”

Somehow, Jonathan didn’t think he and Jane would be relaxing anytime soon.

Notes:

Huge shout out to the best beta on the planet Anne! You can find me on Tumblr!

Chapter 3: Tributes and Mentors

Notes:

As always be sure to head over to Jo-Harrington's page to see all the amazing edits she's put together for this!

The procession went great.  Usually it was just a formality, but Vickie was a genius, and all anyone in the Capitol was talking about were the jellyfish from District Four.  She just made his job a hell of a lot easier.  He imagined that selling them would be a bit trickier.  Jonathan was the easier route, but he knew Jonathan.  The interview wasn’t going to do him many favors.  Jonathan wasn’t exactly the talkative, charismatic type.  He didn’t say much unless someone asked him a question, and that usually resulted in a short response.

As far as the judging was concerned, Steve had no idea how either Jane or Jonathan would score.  Jonathan was a decent fighter, he knocked Steve on his ass a couple of times, but there wouldn’t be anyone in the room for him to spar.  They’d have to find another way to show off his strengths.  Jane… well the kid might have been a survivor but Steve didn’t really know what that meant or how anyone would be able to judge that.  He’d let Nancy figure all that out.  That wasn’t Steve’s job.  

Steve’s job was getting sponsors.  He was fucking great at it, really he was.  The thing was, as good as he was at it, his “friends” weren’t stupid.  They liked to bet on people who had a chance at winning or at least made it to the final five.  Well, except Lucy.

Hers was the bed he was currently warming.  Typically this was his least favorite part of the job.  Brenner liked to arrange “meetings” between Steve and anyone with a big enough wallet or influence to make it worth his while.  Most of them made his skin crawl.  They looked at him like a sex toy or something they’d like to devour.  Not Lucy.  

Lucy was different.  He actually kind of liked her.  She was a bit older than him, maybe in her late thirties or early forties.  She was… lonely.  He was pretty sure her father was the one who paid for Steve to visit her.  He wasn’t even sure she knew that was why he was there.  

They talked mostly.  She’d ask about Four and he’d ask about her career.  Well, calling it a career was generous.  She came from money but a few times a week she would review new products and give recommendations to a publication.  But still, they’d catch up, share a meal, and wind up in bed.  

She didn’t want anything out of it really.  She just seemed to appreciate the companionship.  Steve got the feeling she didn’t really have anyone.  Her father was some high ranking doctor that helped develop cosmetic procedures for people in the Capitol.  It seemed like he’d rather pay for Steve to visit his daughter when he was in town rather than having to spend time with her himself. 

Maybe that was for the best.

“Of course I’ll sponsor the two from Four.  I always sponsor your team,” she said, her pastel orange eyes beaming at him.  “You always care so much about your tributes.  None of the other mentors seem to care as much.”

That wasn’t entirely true.  Steve was just the only one who spoke with Lucy.  She didn’t go to the usual viewings or galas to discuss these things.  Steve only had access because Brenner wanted him to fuck her.

He wasn’t going to go into all that with her.  “I don’t know about that, but I do really hope we get to bring one of these kids home this year.”

“Do you know the boy?  He’s around your age isn’t he?” She asked softly.  Her fuschia curls bounced a bit as she looked down at her lap.  “Is he a friend?”

Steve gave a half hearted shrug.  He knew better than to let Lucy too far in.  She was still Capitol after all, and if she had connections to Brenner, anything he said had a chance of getting back to him.

“I know him, but not that well,” he said instead.  He decided to use this as an opportunity to start spreading some information about his tributes before the interviews.  “I just feel for the mom.  Jane may not be her daughter, but she’s as good as.  Both tributes are children she raised.  That’s what’s sticking with me.”

Her face fell at that.  She covered her mouth, and her eyes brimmed.  “How awful.  Oh, Steve.  That poor woman.  I hate these games.  I know I shouldn’t—my father would never forgive me if he knew I was talking like this.  It’s not all bad, it brought you to me, but… I wish that could have happened some other way.”

He didn’t respond to that.  He knew Lucy wasn’t the biggest fan of the games.  If she was she’d go to the galas and all the events– lord knew she was wealthy enough to enjoy the games with as much access as possible.  She didn’t.  Even when Steve spent time with her, the TV was on, but she never seemed to pay it much mind.  He got the feeling that was part of why she was so alone.  Parts of her life were so different from others in the Capitol.

“Tell her.  Please tell her, I’m so sorry she has to watch two children go through this at the same time,” she said, her bottom lip beginning to quiver.

Steve sat up, draping an arm around her shoulder.  He rubbed her arm soothingly.  There was this too.  She was fragile.  “I’ll tell her,” he lied.  “I’m sure she’ll appreciate that there are people who care about her kids.”

That didn’t seem to soothe her much.  She wiped her eyes as she grabbed her robe and slipped out of the bed.  “I’m going to get washed up and then make some tea.  You’re welcome to use the shower when I’m done if you don’t want to join me.”

Steve pouted dramatically.  “Do you not want me to join you?”

Her face flushed as she gave a nervous laugh.  “Of course I want you to join–”

“Well that’s a relief.  I thought you were finally getting sick of me,” he teased as he slid out of the bed, not bothering to cover up.  He was really laying it on thick for her.

She looked up at him dreamily.  “How could anyone be sick of you?”

Steve slunk away from her flat about an hour later.  He made promises to see her soon.  He’d make good on those promises.  He genuinely liked Lucy.  It was strange, obviously he’d rather not do this if he didn’t have to.  Lucy though, she was kind and always just seemed grateful that he was there with her.  It was a nice reprieve from the other “appointments.”

The peacekeeper driving the car didn’t say anything.  They never did.  He could feel the judgment from them, as if this was something Steve chose rather than something he was made to do.  He knew, distantly, that there were at least some of the peacekeepers that were envious.  Envious of the perceived spoils Steve would receive from these “meetings.”  There was one man who insisted on buying Steve extravagant clothes– Steve insisted he didn’t need them, but seeing Steve wear them in public was a symbol that the man owned a piece of him.

There were some peacekeepers that he knew wanted to fuck him.  Those were the ones who were more envious of Steve’s partners than him.  None of them had the nerve to try anything.  They knew Brenner would have their heads if Steve didn’t kill them himself.  It was one of the few benefits of being a victor of these games– people knew he was lethal.

This one didn’t seem to pay him much mind.  It wasn’t unsurprising.  Steve’s tributes were getting a lot of attention, which meant Steve and the other mentors from Four would be receiving a lot of attention.  Brenner wouldn’t take chances with their security detail.  He’d want to make sure only the most professional, and stern of peacekeepers would be dealing with them.

The car pulled up to the tower.  Steve was relieved.  Sometimes Brenner would like a “progress report.”  It was mostly him fishing for information about the benefactors.  He must have figured Lucy wasn’t exactly high priority.  He wasn’t wrong.  This was more about her father for Brenner.  

He got out of the car, not bothering to say anything to the peacekeeper.  He walked inside and took the elevator up to the fourth floor.  He stepped onto the floor, and scanned the entry.  The upgrade was nice, but dumb.  They never actually added anything worthwhile between games.  It was mostly a fresh coat of paint, a change in the expensive furniture, art and decorations, and new light fixtures.

It was dark, everyone else must have gone to sleep for the night.  There was a chance Hopper and Nancy were out laying the groundwork with other potential sponsors or strategizing with other mentors, but he was pretty sure they’d be in bed.  Tomorrow would be the day for that kind of stuff.

He walked deeper into the room, trying to figure out which way would lead him to his bedroom.  His eyes scanned the room, when he heard a scoff.  He practically jumped out of his skin.  Steve clapped his hands to bring the lights up.

Jonathan was sitting on the couch, hunched over so his elbows were resting on his knees, holding his head in his hands.

“Sheesh.  You scared the crap out of me,” Steve said, pushing his hair back.

Jonathan rolled his eyes.  “Sorry to disturb you.  I figured you wouldn’t be back until the morning.  I thought they were embellishing, but wow, you really couldn’t give it until tomorrow before you skipped out on us to spend time with your fan club.”

Steve stared at him.  Of course Jonathan would have believed the narrative.  Steve was a playboy who “spread the love” when he was in town.  Steve had gone to lengths to make sure Jonathan believed it.  He knew it wouldn’t go over well if he knew the truth.  

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said.  He shook his head and took a few steps toward the other direction.  It was too late to go into all this.

Jonathan let out a disgruntled sigh.  “I know you weren’t here.  I’m so sorry that my sister and I being sent to our deaths is getting in the way of your sex life–”

“Stop,” Steve snapped, turning back to look at him.  “It’s really not what you think.  Not that I have to explain myself, but I was out getting sponsors.  I know I don’t have to tell you how important sponsors are since we just had this conversation on the train.”

Jonathan’s expression faltered.  Steve could practically see the wheels turning in his head.  It was like he was trying to figure out whether or not he believed Steve’s story.  It wasn’t a lie, it just wasn’t the whole truth.

“Oh,” he said, still not looking too convinced.

Steve nodded.  “Yeah, man.  Believe me, everything I’m doing is to help you and Jane.  I need you to trust me, Jonathan.  I won’t pretend that this isn’t… weird for us, but we need to put that aside.  There are bigger things at play here than our history–”

“You think I don’t know that?” Jonathan stood up, his eyes desperate.  “I’m well aware of the stakes.  I just… it’s hard to trust you after everything that’s happened.”

Steve frowned.  He knew that was valid.  He would have had a hard time trusting himself if the roles were reversed.  Still, they didn’t have time to mend that bridge.  There were more important things.  “I know, but this is different.  Whatever our past, I want to give you two the best chance at getting home.  I think you know that I wouldn’t take this lightly.”

Jonathan shrugged.  “I don’t know.  I never thought… I didn’t expect what happened between us either.”

“If you can’t trust me, then trust Nancy.  Ask her.  She’ll tell you I was working on getting sponsors.  She has no reason to lie, and I was a big part of making sure she got to come home,” Steve said honestly.  “Just… you need to trust me.”

Jonathan crossed his arms, but he didn’t argue.  He just gave a reluctant nod.  “Okay.”

“Thank you,” Steve said, rubbing his temples.  “What are you doing out here anyway?  You’ve got a big day tomorrow, you should be sleeping.”

“Can’t,” he said quietly.  “I tried but I can’t.”

Steve sighed.  He should have expected as much.  “Look, if we stay out here, we’re gonna wake everyone up.  If you want to come with me to my room, and start talking strategy or something.  We can do that.”

Jonathan paused, clearly considering the options.  “It’s not like I can sleep.  I might as well start preparing.”

Steve extended his arm, motioning for Jonathan to head down the hall.  “Do you know which room was mine? I got sent off to this meeting before we could get settled in.”

Jonathan’s jaw clenched as he nodded.  “Yeah, I know which one it is.”

He led Steve down the hall to the last room on the left.  Steve opened it, holding the door so Jonathan could head inside first, before he followed suit.  It was larger than the rooms they had last time. It seemed like the Capitol was obsessed with making everything bigger each year.  He shouldn’t have been surprised.  He walked over to the window and changed the settings so he was staring at the ocean waves.

“I didn’t know you could do that,” Jonathan said quietly.

He hummed.  “Yeah.  You can even just make it pitch black and have some white noise going.  It could help.  You’re gonna need to get some sleep eventually between now and the arena.”

Jonathan shrugged.  “I guess.”

Steve threw himself down on the bed, and patted the spot beside him for Jonathan to join him.  “Make yourself comfortable.  Just because you’re wired and ready to go, doesn’t mean I am.”

He walked over to the bed, a stern look on his face.  He sat on the edge of it with a heavy sigh.  “We can always do this tomorrow.”

“It’s fine,” Steve said dismissively.  “Maybe this will help your brain relax a little bit– knowing there’s a plan.”

Jonathan didn’t look convinced.  “If you say so.”

“Where do you want to start?” he asked, shifting a bit where he laid.

“I don’t really know what to expect tomorrow.  For the first day of training, I mean,” he said.

It was a fair ask.  They didn’t usually televise the training portion.  At most someone would give a recap with some highlights.  Otherwise, the public didn’t see that stuff.

“Well, all of you will be there for the first few sessions.  I don’t recommend showing off too much– you want to keep some secrets in your back pocket,” Steve said.  “Pay attention to the survival skills they have there, it could make a world of difference.  Also, do what you do best– observe.  See who you need to be wary of.  I know Districts One and Two usually have the biggest contenders, but that’s not to say there won’t be a wild card from another district.  Just keep an eye on them.”

Jonathan nodded, his face serious.  “Makes sense.  So no hand-to-hand if I can avoid it.  Any other skills we should hone?”

“Not yet,” Steve said honestly.  “Nancy will probably have a whole schedule for you to go over tomorrow morning, but the first day she’ll want you to focus on the survival stuff.  After that we can schedule a few one on one sessions.  Hopper, Nance, and I will be able to help with those.  We still have to be careful, they usually double book the facility to keep everyone honest.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Jonathan mumbled.  “What about the interviews?”

Steve frowned.  “We have an angle, but… we need you to try and be as natural as possible.”

Jonathan looked down, fiddling with his fingers a bit.  “That’s what I’m worried about.  I’m not a great public speaker.”

He sighed.  He knew this.  Jonathan wasn’t exactly a social butterfly.  He was hardly talkative at all.  Steve knew that this would arguably be the hardest piece before Jonathan entered the arena.

“Look, Yuri’s good at this.  The questions aren’t going to be anything hard hitting, or meant to put you off guard.  We’ll give him some talking points, and all you have to do is talk,” Steve said.

Jonathan fidgeted, moving the mattress a bit as he shifted.  “You know I’m not good with… people.”

Yes, he did.  “Just… pretend you’re talking to me,” Steve said softly.  “I know things are… weird but… you used to talk to me just fine– you still do.  I mean, you are right now.”

He paused.  “Yeah.  I could do that.”

Steve nodded confidently.  “Yeah, Jon.  He’s gonna ask about you volunteering, and you can use that as an in to talk about how Jane is practically your sister and how you’re just going to try to look out for her.  It’ll prompt him to ask her about it when she goes on after you, and it’ll help with sponsors.  It’s not hard.  I promise, it won’t be anything too crazy.”

Jonathan relaxed.  He leaned up against the headboard, getting a bit more comfortable.  “Oh, okay.  What about when we get in the arena?  Do you get any sort of advanced information on what that’s going to look like, or do we not find out anything until we go in?”

Steve shook his head.  He had powerful “friends,” some of whom worked on the arena designs.  They’d be pretty loose lipped about things once the games began, but before that they were steel traps– not giving him even an inkling.  If Brenner had any reason to suspect that the tributes had advanced information on the arena, it’d be detrimental for anyone involved.

“No, I don’t have that kind of information.  We won’t know until the games begin but… I may be able to find out some information about what kinds of challenges or weapons or animals might be in the arena.  I have a meeting with one of my contacts tomorrow– or I guess later today.  I’ll let you know if I get him to share anything,” Steve said honestly.  One of his admirers’ father worked at a lab that helped create some of the tech and genetics of the animals.  Sometimes he’d be able to get the guy to share some information in exchange for certain… accommodations in bed.  

Even more tension left Jonathan’s shoulders as he blinked a bit slowly, like his eyelids were becoming a bit heavier than normal.  He must have been exhausted.  Steve was sure he hadn’t slept much the night before.  It had to be catching up to him.

Steve reached over to the remote on the bedside table dimming the lights slightly.  It wasn’t so much to really impede his vision, just enough so that it softened the light in the room.  It was the way Steve usually slept when he was in the Capitol.  He’d gotten a handle on his nightmares for the most part, but being in the Capitol… it brought everything right to the surface.  The light mixed with the images of the ocean helped.

“What, but–” Jonathan’s arguments were silenced by a yawn escaping him.

Steve didn’t have to say anything.  Jonathan didn’t continue– he must have lost his train of thought.  Finally his eyelids shut.  Steve didn’t move a muscle.  He just watched him, his chest rising and falling as his mouth fell open slightly.  

He was breathing. For now, Jonathan Byers was still on this planet, alive and kicking.  It wouldn’t be for long.  Steve knew Jonathan.  Before he even talked to Steve in the train car, Steve knew where Jonathan’s journey was going.  Jonathan was going to do everything in his power to make sure that Jane got home safe even if it meant his demise.

Steve had been so stupid.  He thought cutting off his friendship with Jonathan would have kept him safe.  He forgot that he could still be reaped or volunteer.  What were the odds?  Jonathan had one more year, and then Steve could let him in just a little bit– enough to explain a bit about what happened.

They’d never have that conversation now.  

Jonathan needed to be focused when he went into that arena.  The last thing he needed was for Steve to spill his guts about everything.  He’d go to his grave believing that Steve didn’t care about him.  He was going to die thinking that Steve got wrapped up in the glory of winning the games and couldn’t be bothered to be his friend anymore.

He wondered distantly, if Brenner knew.  Had Steve slipped up?  Did he do or say something revealing?  Or worse.  Was this really just bad luck?  Did the Byers– and Jane– really have such a rain cloud over their heads that led to this?  That was almost more horrifying than Brenner manipulating this.  At least then Steve could be angry with someone.

No.  Steve had been a good pawn.  He’d spread his legs when he was asked, he’d tease whoever Brenner pointed at, and he never even complained.  He really could have too.  Some of these allies of Brenner put Steve through the ringer.  He’d gotten better at handling them over the years but Steve was always a good little plaything.  The last thing he wanted was to get on Brenner’s bad side.

Brenner wasn’t punishing him.  Jonathan and Jane were likely just victims of the games.  This was a cruel trick of fate.  It was hard enough watching Nancy go through the games but, there was no way Jonathan would come out of this.  Even if something happened and Jane passed before him– even if he won, Jonathan wouldn’t be able to live with himself knowing that Jane had to die for him to live.

There was a strand of hair hanging over Jonathan’s forehead.  He imagined that the beauty team probably put a ton of product in after the procession.  He couldn’t help himself.  He reached over and, with a single finger, gently wafted it out of his face.

Steve felt his own eyelids becoming heavy.  The last several days had been straight out of a nightmare.  This was almost as bad as when he was reaped– almost.  It didn’t make sense to wake Jonathan.  He needed the rest… they both did.  There was plenty of room on the bed for both of them, and selfishly Steve wanted to hold on to whatever time they had left with both hands and white knuckles, even if he wouldn’t be awake to appreciate it.  He relaxed against the soft pillow and let his eyes close.  

He woke up screaming.  

Steve wasn’t even sure what he was screaming about.  He had nightmares like this sometimes.  He’d wake up yelling with no memory of what he was dreaming about in the first place.

“What happened?” Jonathan shot up in bed.

Shit.

Steve forgot he was there.  He should have seen this coming and made Jonathan go back to his room.  He had to go and ruin this.  Now Jonathan would be exhausted when he had to go train.  The last thing he needed was to be worrying about Steve.  He had to focus on staying alive.

“It’s nothing,” Steve said dismissively.  “Go back to sleep.”

Jonathan’s eyes narrowed.  “It’s not nothing.”

Steve shook his head.  “Jon, go back to sleep.  It’s just a nightmare.  I’m sorry I woke you.  You can go back to your room if you want it’s just–”

“I’m not going to leave you after that,” Jonathan said, giving him a worried look.  “Unless you’d rather I go.”

“No,” Steve said almost too quickly.  “I mean… you’re welcome to stay.  It’s just… you need your rest and I can’t promise this won’t happen again.”

Jonathan’s face softened, sympathy flooding his eyes.  “Does this happen often?”

He shrugged.  “Not back home.  Being here… I don’t know.  It does something to me.”

“I thought you liked it here,” he said quietly.  “You’re a celebrity here.  You have… conquests and–”

Steve cut him off, muttering.  “It’s really not like that.”

Jonathan looked down.  “I guess I just thought… the media paints a very different picture and… you wouldn’t talk to me so… it wasn’t that hard to believe.”

Steve sighed.  “Jonathan, we can’t have this conversation.  I know I owe it to you, but you go into the arena at the end of the week.  We both need to be thinking about that.  All I can say is… I was just trying to protect you from… all this .  I need you to trust me.”

“Okay,” he said.  “It won’t matter soon anyway.  Just… no matter what happens… can you look after Mom and Will?  I know things have been–”

“Of course,” Steve said, feeling the corners of his eyes beginning to sting.  He was not going to cry.  Jonathan was the one going through this.  He didn’t need Steve’s pity.  “I’ll make sure they’re okay.”

Jonathan nodded, not making eye contact with him.  “Thank you, I just… thank you.”

“You should try and get back to sleep,” Steve said, rubbing his face in exhaustion.  “We both should.”

Jonathan finally met his eyes, shifting so that he was lying down again.

“You really don’t have to stay,” Steve said, his voice softening.

“I already told you, I’m not leaving you alone after that,” Jonathan mumbled.

Steve didn’t argue.  He closed his eyes and let sleep take him.

When he woke Jonathan was still asleep beside him.  That was something.  At least they were able to get some sleep.  Steve was just relieved that he didn’t wake up screaming again.  He glanced at the clock beside him on the table.  It was early.  

He skillfully slid out of the bed, careful not to disturb Jonathan.  He grabbed a robe from the wardrobe in the corner of the room.  He quietly snuck out of the room and walked into the common area. 

The smell of coffee filled his nostrils.  He really needed a cup.  He stepped into the dining area.  There was already a buffet of food spread across the table.  He distantly wondered how early the team was up preparing this.  

He walked over to the table, and poured some coffee in a mug.  The warmth filled the mug and he added some milk and sugar.  He sat down at the table and took a few sips.  Barb would be up any moment with their itineraries for the day.  Maybe his partners for the day would be low maintenance.  There was a meeting at some point that week with his contact who worked on the games, but that would be at an odd hour since he was working weird hours.

“You’re up early.” Nancy’s voice caught his attention.  She padded over, sitting beside him.  She had a folder in her hand, her curls a little more wild than normal.  

“Want some coffee?” He asked.

She nodded, opening the folder and looking through it.  “What time did you get in?”

He poured her a cup, placing the mug beside her.  “I don’t know.  It was late.  Jonathan was up.”

She hummed at that.  “I had a feeling he wouldn’t get much sleep.  Jane needed to be sedated again after the procession.”

“Why, what happened?” He asked.  That got his attention.

Nancy took a sip of her coffee.  “There was some coverage of the last games being shown as we came into the room.  I’m worried about that one.”

“Yeah well, I’ve been worried before last night,” he said honestly.  “You remember how it is.  Maybe she’ll surprise us.  You never know how they’ll do until they enter the arena.”

“I put together some observations from last night if you want to look it over,” she said.

He raised an eyebrow at that.  “The procession is more about the stylists than it is the tributes.”

“I know that,” she said flatly.  “I’m talking about what I noticed about the other mentors.  I talked to a few of them during the procession.  You can get a lot of information from what people aren’t saying.”

He shrugged.  “I’ll take a look later.  I advised Jonathan to observe the other tributes during training today.”

“Good.  Smart,” she said.  “Today they should focus on the basic survival tips.  Later in the week they can see what weapons they feel most comfortable with.”

“I had a feeling you’d say something like that,” he said.

“How was it… last night?  Are you feeling okay?”  Nancy looked away from the folder, meeting his eyes with her bright wide blue ones.

He sipped his coffee waving dismissively at her.  “It was just Lucy.”

She nodded.  “That’s the one you don’t mind so much, right?”

“Yeah,” he said.  “She’s fine.  I kind of feel sorry for her.”

Nancy scoffed at that.  “Well… I’m glad you’re okay.  Did Jonathan say anything when you came in?”

Steve tensed at that.  “We spoke.”

Nancy blinked at him.  “That clears things up.”

He sighed.  “We… uh… kind of cleared the air about some stuff.  And he’s asleep in my room right now.”

She fumbled the mug.  It clattered gently against the table, somehow not spilling much except for a few drops.  “Steve–”

“Nothing happened,” he said.  “He couldn’t sleep so we talked and then he knocked out.”

Her jaw clenched.  “You shouldn’t get too close.  Neither of you should be distracted right now.”

“I know,” he said firmly.   “We were just talking about the games and he knocked out.  I wasn’t going to wake him.  He needs his rest.  We all do.”

“That can’t happen again,” she said sternly.  “If Brenner finds out—”

“He’s going to die.  He’s committed to that already.  What else can Brenner do?” Steve said exhaustedly. 

She didn’t say anything, but he could tell she still didn’t agree.  It didn’t matter.  Jonathan made it clear that he wasn’t coming back.  He wasn’t going to let Brenner intimidate him into not spending as much time as possible with him until that happened.  He had a lot of lost time to make up for.

As if on cue, Jonathan shuffled into the room.  His eyes shifted between Nancy and Steve as he sat across the table from Steve.  He brought his attention to Nancy.  “Where do we start?”

Nancy exchanged a glance with Steve.  He knew what she was thinking.  They should wait for Hopper and Jane.

“Maybe we should wait.”  She looked back to the hall.  “I’m sure Hopper and Jane will be up soon.  We can discuss it together.”

Jonathan shook his head.  “Jane can’t know what my angle is, she’d never allow it.”

“You’re thinking several steps ahead,” Nancy said evenly.  It was as if she was trying to keep herself calm as she spoke, but bits of her annoyance were seeping through the cracks in her face.  “Right now, you two can be on the same page.  Survival skills, and observing your opponents.  After the first few days we can start training you both separately.”

That seemed to satisfy him.  He didn’t have any comeback or quip.  He just poured himself a cup of orange juice and began nibbling on a croissant.  At least he was eating.

Hopper came out next.  He grunted at them as he poured himself a cup of coffee and plopped down at the head of the table.  He took a sip, his eyes closed as he rubbed his face.  Steve blinked at him.  This was early for him.  That wasn’t even the most surprising part. Usually he liked to add a little liquor to his coffee.  He didn’t that morning.  Weird.

He eyed Jonathan, scanning him as he sipped his coffee.  “You sleep last night?”

Jonathan nodded.  “A little.”

Hopper nodded back, his eyes closed.  He rubbed his eyes with one palm.  “Did they tell you what to focus on today?”

“Yeah,” Jonathan said, glancing cautiously between Steve and Nancy.

“Good,” he said, sipping again.

Steve gave Jonathan an apologetic look.  He wasn’t sure what this was.  Hopper rarely woke up before noon and hardly ever paid much mind to the tributes once Steve came around to help with that.

Nancy’s brow furrowed as she studied Hopper.  This must have been as jarring for her as it was for him.  “We just told him to focus on survival tactics today and –”

“I trust you,” Hopper said dismissively, leaning back in his seat.  He pinched the bridge of his nose as he let out a groan.

None of them had a chance to respond as Barbara entered the room.  “Good morning, District Four.”  She frowned as she looked across the room.  “Is Jane still in bed?”

“We were going to let her rest for a little bit longer,” Nancy said gently.  “She had a rough night.”

Barb frowned.  “Yes well, I guess a few more minutes won’t set us behind schedule.”  She handed a holopad to each of the victors.  “These are your schedules for the day.”  She brought her attention up to Jonathan.  “Jonathan, you and Jane will just need to worry about training today.  It’ll take up most of your afternoon and then you’ll be back here to strategize and prepare for the interview.”

Jonathan’s face paled as he brought his attention back down to his plate.  Steve remembered what it was like to sit in that chair.  The difference was Steve was prepared to win whereas Jonathan was determined to die.

He brought his attention to his own tablet, turning it on.  He looked over his schedule.  A public appearance at the opera house– he’d take one of the performers out for a public lunch date.  It didn’t look like anything physical was on the docket for that appointment.

There was some time built in for him to connect with Jane and Jonathan after training so that would be a nice day at least the early chunk of it.  He’d take strategizing and the opera over any of the other stuff.

And there it was.  His evening.  Stuck with a sadist for several hours.  He hated this guy.  Bruce fucking Lowe.  The guy had a way of making Steve feel one foot tall.  Still, it was better than the guy who’d pose him in incredibly uncomfortable positions and paint portraits of it.  That was almost worse than the other stuff.  Almost. 

Nancy cleared her throat.  “Barb, is there a chance we can lighten any of this?  With all the chaos surrounding the games, I think I speak for all of us when I say, our efforts would be much more useful preparing our tributes… we need to put on a good show afterall.”

Wow .  Nancy’s intelligence never ceased to amaze him.  She was so good at playing the game.  She didn’t like to, and would often lash out if provoked, but moments like this where she could manipulate were unmatched.

Barb winced. “I’ll see what I can do, but… the arrangements for these events have been set for a while.”

“Oh,” Nancy said, her face stoic.

“I’ll ask and let you know,” Barb said, clearly not optimistic.

Steve knew Nancy was doing this for his benefit.  He also knew it wouldn’t change anything, at least not the stuff he’d rather skip.  The opera was the least of his worries.  There was no way Lowe was being pushed off his docket.

“We’ll make it work,” Steve said– eager to move on.  “What time do you need Jon and Jane by?”

“No later than nine,” Barb said, glancing at her pocketwatch.  “I’ll reach out about the schedules for the day to see if there’s any… wiggle room.  Please make sure Jane is up in the next fifteen minutes.  She should have a healthy breakfast before training.”

Hopper let out a heavy sigh-groaning as he exhaled.  “She’ll be up.  I doubt having a hearty breakfast will make much of a difference.”

Barb gave him an exasperated look.  “She is going to need her strength for today–”

“She’s twelve years old.  I highly doubt she’s going to be lifting dumbbells to intimidate the other tributes,” Hopper said, raising his voice slightly.

Nancy gave Barb an apologetic smile.  “We’ll make sure she’s up and fed before nine.”

Barb visibly relaxed at that.  “Thank you.  I’ll just be a moment.”  Her heels clicked as she crossed the room, walking out to the elevator.

Nancy brought her attention to Hopper, her eyes narrowed.  “I’ll go wake her–”

“I’ll do it,” Jonathan offered.

“No.”  Hopper, Nancy, and Steve all cut him off in unison.

His brow creased as he looked between the three of them.  “Why not?”

Steve frowned.  “You two need to get used to the idea that you’ll probably be separated at least for a little while in the arena.  If she’s depending too much on you that could make things worse for her–”

“I’m not just her fellow tribute,” Jonathan said firmly.  “I’m her brother.  It’s different.”

“It’s worse,” Hopper said, his voice tense.  “It’s going to be that much harder on both of you.  A little separation can be a good thing–”

“This may very well be the last few days of our lives,” Jonathan said, his voice even but more forceful than before.  “I’m not wasting my last few days keeping her at arm's length.”

“Why is everyone yelling?”
Jane was in the corner of the room.  Her eyes were wide as she looked between Jonathan and Hopper.  “What’s wrong?”

Jonathan’s face fell.  “Nothing.  Did we wake you?”

She shook her head.  “No. I’ve been up for a little while.  I just… was afraid to come out of the room.”

“There are some waffles here,” Jonathan said lamely.  “I know you said you liked them yesterday.”

Jane eyed him suspiciously but she sat beside him, putting a waffle on her plate.  She topped it with some whipped cream and syrup and began eating them.  At least she seemed to enjoy one thing since she was reaped.

Barb was true to her word and was back for Jonathan and Jane at nine on the dot.  She did also have news that their schedules were not flexible and they’d have to go to the items on their dockets.  Steve wasn’t surprised by that.

The opera was nice.  The performer was much more pleasant to watch on stage than they were as a lunch date.  Well that wasn’t entirely fair.  He was fine.  He just talked a lot about himself and how much he adored the games.  He was a douchebag.  Steve had experience with those kinds of guys.  He stroked his ego, and let the performer–Luther go on and on about himself.  Steve acted like hearing about the man’s pre-show rituals were the most fascinating thing on the planet.

Still, Steve was very grateful when he saw his car arrive to pick him up from lunch.  Luther was less enthusiastic about Steve’s departure.

“We’ll have to get together again before you go back to the districts,” he said.  There was a hint of disgust in his voice as he said the last word.  

Steve forced his eyes to brighten as he gave him a soft smile.  “I’ll hold you to that.”

He traced his teeth with his tongue before pulling Steve into a forceful kiss.  It was short, that was something.  He watched Steve with a hungry look in his eyes as Steve gave a coy smile and slunk into the car.

The moment they pulled away, Steve wiped his mouth with his sleeve.  He really hoped that this guy wasn’t important enough for anything beyond a lunch date.  He left a lot to be desired and if that kiss was any indication… he didn’t want to sleep with the guy.  At least the food was good.

The car dropped him back at the Tribute Tower.  He didn’t look back as he got out of the car and walked to the elevator, riding it up to the fourth floor.  The elevator dinged and he stepped onto their floor.

His ears were met with the sound of arguing.  Fantastic.  He walked towards the direction of the indiscernible yelling. Oh.  The war room.  Steve took a deep breath as he walked in.  Oh.

Nancy and Hopper were standing on opposite ends of the table.  Nancy’s face was beet red as she yelled.  Her hair was in a bun, a few strands dancing across her face.  Hopper was also red, but his brow was furrowed and his eyes ablaze.  This was new.

“Whoa, whoa.  What did I miss?” Steve asked as he stepped into the room.

Nancy’s jaw clenched as she halted her shouting.  She glanced over at Steve, irritation written across her face.  “Hopper wants to put all our resources on Jane.”

Steve felt his stomach drop.  What?  “What the hell are you talking about?  Nancy and I already had a plan.  We focus on Jonathan in the beginning to benefit Jane–”

“She doesn’t need Jonathan,” Hopper cut him off.  “I’m telling you, that kid has something.”

“She’s a child,” Nancy said incredulously.

“So were all of us, in case you forgot,” Hopper said with a condescending laugh.

Nancy’s eyes hardened.  “We weren’t that young.  She’s twelve years old!”

“Don’t underestimate her–” Hopper began.

“Knock it off.  Both of you,” Steve said sitting down on one of the chairs.  He rubbed his temples.  “This isn’t helping.  Besides, we have to mentor both tributes, in case you forgot.”  He shot Hopper a dirty look.  

Hopper gave him and Nancy an amused look.  “Don’t be that naive.  You know better than I do that we have to make tough choices on who to prioritize.  Besides, you’re both too close to this.  He’s your friend or peer or whatever.  You’re not thinking objectively.”

Steve laughed sardonically.  “ We’re not thinking clearly?  You’re drunk and want to back a twelve year old.  We already promised Jonathan that we’d be putting our effort into making sure she wins, but we need to make sure he can survive long enough to help her–”

“She won’t need his help–”

“Oh my god!” Nancy snapped.  “You’re not listening.  She’s been having a hard time coping.  How do you think she’ll fare if she sees his face in the sky?  He needs to stay alive long enough for her to get close to the win.”

Steve nodded motioning to Nancy with his arm.  “Exactly! You shouldn’t be underestimating him either.  He’s not bad with hand to hand and can take a hit.  I wouldn’t count him out yet either.  We might have two serious contenders this year.  We shouldn’t throw one under the bus… not yet.”

That seemed to satisfy them enough to stop the fighting.  Neither of them looked particularly convinced that the other was on the right track, but it was something.  

“All right,” Steve said as he motioned to the two of them to sit.  “We’ve got to come up with something.  They’re going to be back soon, and they’ll expect a strategy.  We should have something to present them with.”

Jane was quiet after training.  Well she was always quiet, but this was worse than usual.  Usually he had some idea what was going on in her head.  Not then.  He was having an impossible time trying to figure out what she was thinking,

He let her be.  After all these years, he knew better than to push.  If she wanted him to know what she was thinking, she’d tell him.  With everything going on, she deserved the privacy of her own thoughts.  

Thinking back to training, Jonathan was even more concerned about their chances than he was before.  The tributes from One and Two were always formidable but the boy from Two… he was something different all together.  There was an anger that fueled him.  The brutal approach he had in training was enough to make Jonathan weary of him.  He could only imagine how fearsome he’d be in the arena.

Barbara led them back to their floor, going on about how many appointments they had.  She made it seem like this was a privilege.  Jonathan never knew what to make of her.  She seemed… kind , and yet she was part of this.

“They’ll be in the strategy room for now.  You two should make yourselves comfortable on the couch and I’ll let them know you’re here,” she said, walking off down the hall.

They took a seat, and Jane gently took his hand.  “It will be okay.”

Jonathan frowned.  He wasn’t sure if he was trying to comfort him or herself.  “We’re going to do our best to make sure one of us gets home.”  He knew better than to tell her that his plan was to sacrifice himself for her.  She wouldn’t allow it.

She squeezed his hand a little bit tighter.  Other than that she had no response to that.  Jonathan didn’t blame her.  What was there to say?

Barb came back out into the sitting room.  “They’ll come back to get you shortly.  I have to go make some arrangements for supper.”  She didn’t wait for them to respond before she walked back to the elevator.

He was almost grateful for the short reprieve.  Any time he was able to think about anything other than his inevitable demise was a treat.  He’d have to find a way to take matters into his own hands once they entered the arena.  All of this had been outside of his control, he was determined to die on his terms.

“You can come in,” Nancy said.  Jonathan wasn’t sure when she appeared in front of them.  He didn’t have time to question it.  He and Jane just got up and followed Nancy to the other room.

The room had a long rectangular table with chairs around it.  There were screens on all the walls.  What was this place? There were charts and notes scribbled all over the screens.  It made his stomach churn just looking at it.

“Sit.  Please,” Nancy said.  Her stress was seeping out onto her face.  She pushed a few stray strands of hair out of her face.

Jane sat down first next to Hopper.  There was a seat between her and Steve that Jonathan took, trying his best not to make eye contact with Steve.  He couldn’t let himself get distracted again like the night before.  It would be harder and harder to go into that arena if he let himself get close to Steve again.

Nancy cleared her throat.  “How was training?”

Jane shrugged, looking down.  It was as if she was a million miles away.

“It was fine,” Jonathan answered for both of them.  “The survival skills were helpful.  I think we learned a lot.”

Nancy and Steve exchanged a silent glance.  What was that about?

Steve cleared his throat.  He shifted in his seat, letting one arm rest on the back of Jonathan’s chair.  Steve looked over at him.  “Did you notice anything?”

“What do you mean?” Jonathan asked.  He knew that Steve asked him to observe, but it was day one.  He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be looking for.

Nancy’s expression softened as she stepped in. “Was there anything noteworthy, either of the training stations or your fellow tributes?”

Jonathan opened his mouth to speak but Jane spoke.  Her voice was quiet and she didn’t look away from the spot on the wall she was staring at.  “Two.”

Steve’s eyebrow raised as his mouth opened in confusion.  “What?”

“The boy from Two,” Jonathan answered even though the question wasn’t directed to him.  “He was… he is going to be tough to overcome.  He’s…hungry for it.”

Nancy lurched forward as she leaned over to grab a pen.  She wrote something down on the table that appeared on the screen behind her.  ‘Two.  Hargrove.  Watch Carver.’

Carver must have been Jason Carver.  He won one of the years between Steve and Nancy.  He was a surprising win.  He was from Two which always meant he was a contender but his real skills was the way he talked.  He was able to get a strong group of allies and manipulated them into turning on each other so he didn’t even have to do any of the dirty work in killing any of them.  Jason Carver only killed one person with his own hands in his games, and yet he was responsible for almost every actual kill in that arena.

“Good,” Nancy said with a sigh.  “That’s good to know.”

Hopper let out a hollow laugh.  “Two is always on the radar–”

“It can’t hurt for us to do a little digging,” she said.  She brought her attention back to Jonathan.  “Do you think he’ll play well with others?  Maybe joining the Careers won’t be a bad idea.  There’s a history of Four joining up with One and Two from time to time.”

Jonathan shook his head.  “I don’t think so.  He didn’t exactly look like a team player.”

“Okay,” Nancy said, chewing her lip.  “So lay under the radar.  If he’s… ‘hungry’  for it, then he might want to target people he views as competition first.  It can’t hurt for him to underestimate you.”

“What if he decides to go after the easy picking first?” Hopper countered.  “They should show that they’re some sort of threat.”

Nancy’s jaw clenched.  “If he does that then they have the element of surprise on their side.”

Jonathan looked down, shaking his leg a bit.  This was stressful enough without Hopper and Nancy being at each other's throats.  He needed to just stay calm.  The last thing anyone needed was for him to cause a scene.  That wouldn’t be good for Jane.

Steve moved his hand up on the chair.  His fingers lightly grazed against the nape of Jonathan’s neck.  “We can hash the details out later.  I’m sure they had a busy day of training.  Maybe we should let them get cleaned up before dinner and we can keep brainstorming until then.”

Nancy nodded, clearly still deep in thought.  Hopper didn’t argue.  That was something.

Steve looked back to Jonathan and Jane.  “You two can go get changed and unwind before dinner.  This was really helpful.”

Jonathan was quite certain that it was not helpful, but it was nice of Steve to say that.  He didn’t need to be told twice.  He slid his chair back and Jane followed suit.  They walked out of the room,  closing the door behind them.

“They are worried,” Jane said.  It wasn’t a question.  It wasn’t even a concern really.  Just a fact.

He nodded.  “It looks like it.”

“I’m going to shower,” she said, her voice dead.  

Jonathan didn’t respond, he just watched as she walked down the hall to her room.  He felt sick knowing that she was going into that arena with him.  She should be watching at home from the safety of their house– holding hands with Mom and Will.

Mom and Will.

Mom was one thing.  He made her promise not to check out.  After everything with Lonnie… he understood why she lost it after he died.  She couldn’t let that happen again.  Will needed her.  Fate willing, Jane would need her too.  She couldn’t let herself get lost in everything again.  There would be no Jonathan to fix and take care of everything this time around.  

He walked into his room too.  Maybe a nice shower would help put all this out of his head at least for a little while.  He had enough to worry about in the Capitol without focusing on everything that could go wrong back home.

Still, asking Jonathan not to worry was a bit like asking the sun not to shine.  It couldn’t be helped.  He stepped into the bathroom, he wanted to wash training off of him.  He still couldn’t shake the fear that the boy from Two had struck in him.  He didn’t expect this to be easy, but he couldn’t imagine either him or Jane being able to overtake him.  He wasn’t sure anyone would be able to.

He stepped into the shower, letting the water break over him.  If drowning himself in the shower was possible, he’d almost consider taking that option.  Hell, the only reason he wasn’t going to sacrifice himself the moment they entered the arena was for Jane.

Jane.  The idea of her coming face to face with the boy from Two made him feel nauseous.  The very concept that his sister would have to kill or be killed was hard enough for him to stomach.  Seeing the actual people that would be coming for her in the flesh was something far worse.  

She didn’t deserve this.  

No one did.

Jonathan had to give the Capitol credit where it was due.  This was certainly an effective form of punishment.  He was timid in the face of this and he had no interest in rocking the boat.  How could someone be brave enough to combat the institution that originated this barbaric ritual?

The only other thing he could credit to them was the luxuries.  Even the shower was better.  He had a number of aromas to choose from, and the water pressure was just right.  He wasn’t sure how he ever showered without these amenities.  The shower was the tip of the iceberg.  There were foods he never knew existed and the beds were softer than a cloud.  It was no wonder why the Capitol citizens weren’t questioning anything.  Jonathan imagined they were able to fall in line with the games pretty quickly with all these luxuries to keep them happy.

He finished his shower and stepped out into his bedroom to get dressed.  If today was any indication, they had a lot to do before stepping into the arena.  Sponsors had hardly seen them yet, but he was sure that wouldn’t stop them from betting yet.  They must have been trying to determine odds as early as the reaping.  He and Jane weren’t exactly giving off strong first impressions.

Jonathan wasn’t under any misconceptions.  He knew that he looked far from intimidating, and Jane was just a scared twelve year old as far as anyone could tell.  There were probably no bets on them – aside from a handful of people betting on a dark horse for the hope of a greater pay out.

Lonnie used to talk about this side of things a bit.  As usual he was focused on the wrong thing.  He wanted to be able to bet on the games–said it would at least be worth it if the districts could see some benefit.  The concept of the games seemed to be lost on him.  Lonnie didn’t talk about what it was like when he was at risk of being reaped.  Jonathan got the impression that Lonnie would have been a serious contender, but that he’d be determined to win for the money and glory rather than staying alive.

He wondered distantly if it would have been better if his father volunteered.  He might not have existed, but then who wanted to live a world like this.  Still, Jane would be there, and she’d be alone.  Maybe that was the one good thing to come out of Lonnie’s relationship with his mother – aside from Will.  This way he could protect Jane and help her win.  She deserved to get home safe.

Jonathan walked out of the bedroom back into the common area.  He was alone there for a while.  It was somehow more comforting than just being alone in the bedroom.  He felt claustrophobic in there.  The sitting area was more open– it made him feel a little less like he was being suffocated.

Eventually, Steve came out from down the hall.  He had a nice long sleeve silk shirt on that had buttons from the neck to a quarter of the way down, all open.  It was loose with the exception of the wrists that were cuffed.  He had tight leather pants and had a loose chain dangling from his neck.

His face felt warm.  He’d never seen Steve like this.  It wasn’t as though Steve never put effort into his clothes – on the contrary, even when they were kids Steve was particular to an extent.  It wasn’t anything like this though.  Steve’s fashion had more of a subtle class to it.  This was… flashier.

It should have made sense.  The Capitol was all glitz and glamor.  It was only natural that Steve would wear something more aligned with that.  It didn’t ease the discomfort Jonathan felt looking at him.

Steve paused as he made eye contact with Jonathan as he was buttoning the cuffs.  His arms drooped to his sides as his doe eyes widened.  “I didn’t realize you were out here.”

Jonathan blinked.  “Am I not supposed to be?”

“No, that’s not–” Steve stuttered.  “You can.  I just wasn’t expecting….  Sorry.”  His eyes darted quickly to the door and then back to Jonathan.  Oh.  He was leaving.

Jonathan’s stomach began to churn.  Steve was leaving– probably to go meet someone.  Jonathan and Jane’s lives were on the line, and Steve was going out.  Just when Jonathan was starting to believe he could rely on him.  Of course Steve didn’t care.  He made it clear he didn’t care about Jonathan when he came back from the games.  All that the night before was just some… line for Jonathan’s benefit.  

“I won’t keep you,” he said coolly.  “If you’re heading out.”

Steve’s face faltered.  He scratched the side of his face absentmindedly.  “It’s not…Brenner scheduled this meeting for me.  I…he might have some intel.  I shouldn’t be too late.”

Jonathan’s eyes scanned over Steve’s body.  This wasn’t a business meeting.  “You don’t owe me anything.  You don’t have to lie–”

“Jonathan… I’m late but… just trust me.  It’s not what you think,” he said, rubbing his forehead.  

He frowned.  The tightness in his chest did not subside.  Still, he needed Steve and he had no idea what the protocols were in this world.  The Capitol was so foreign to him and the politics of the games were something he couldn’t even begin to wrap his head around.  He had to trust Steve. 

No.

Jonathan wanted to trust Steve.

“Okay,” he said, diverting his gaze.

Even without looking at him, he could see that Steve’s eyes were still on him.  He was unmoving, in fact it was the most still he’d ever seen Steve.  Steve was a lot of things, small wasn’t one of them.  He was loud and loved attention.  He hardly even stood still.  This was new.

“I’ll be back in a few hours,” he said, his voice even–unreadable. 

Jonathan nodded, still not looking at him.  “I’ll be here.”

Steve stared at him for another few seconds before he tore himself away, jetting over and out of the door.  It slammed shut loudly, but Jonathan still refused to look back.  He had bigger things to worry about than Steve Harrington’s sex life.

The next several days were a blur.  Training.  Strategy.  Steve.

Steve.  It was a wonder why it bothered him so much.  Steve never hid the fact that he had a string of lovers back in the Capitol– in fact it was well documented.  There was a tiny part of him that was jealous.  It was stupid– to be jealous when he was about to go to his death.  It couldn’t be helped.  Jonathan had tried over the years to let out of that jealousy.  Steve didn’t want him.  There was nothing he could do about it.

Why?

Steve wasn’t committed to anyone– as far as Jonathan could tell.  It appeared as though his “dates” were all with different people from the way he and Nancy would talk about it in hushed whispers.  So why didn’t he want Jonathan?

Had he made it up in his head?  The kiss behind the bait shop.  It wasn’t anything more than a fleeting kiss between two kids.  They didn’t speak about it.  Still.  Didn’t it mean something?   Even without the kiss, Steve was one of his only friends.  Why did he have to cut him off after the games?  

Jealousy was one thing.  Missing his friend was another.  Now, Jonathan was about to go into the arena, with no intention of coming out, and Steve was still going on business as usual.  It was Jonathan’s own fault.  He was wrong to think this would have changed anything.

It still stung.

“You’ll have your one on one training this afternoon,” Barb said, taking a seat beside Nancy.  They were all around the dining room table for breakfast.  “Jonathan will be with Steve, Jane with Nancy and Jim.”

“Why can’t we train all together?” Jane asked.

Jonathan wanted to know that too.  He didn’t need to hide anything from Jane as far as training was concerned.  He was only going in there to keep her safe.  Also, the last thing he wanted was to be training alone with Steve.

“It’s our idea,” Nancy said, an apologetic smile on her lips.  “It helps us to observe you more one on one… especially since you two are so close.  It’s easier for us to identify your strengths and weaknesses if we’re able to devote our sole attention to one of you.”

“Oh,” Jane said quietly.

Jonathan reached over and gave her hand a squeeze.  “It makes sense.”  As hesitant as he was, it made sense.  Nancy would likely have the best advice for Jane.  She was a dark horse herself, discounted, and she took the whole country by surprise.  Hopper had done this the longest, he’d know the most about the inner workings of all this.  

Steve was different.

It wasn’t a complete shock that he won.  His strategy likely wouldn’t do Jane much good.  He could cope with working alongside Steve if it meant Jane got the best support she could.  He only had a few more days anyway.  He wasn’t going to spend it taking resources away from his sister because he and Steve were in a weird place.

“Any other questions?” Barb asked.  It was a thinly veiled attempt to soften some of the tension in the air.  

Jonathan shook his head, playing with the food on his plate.  He didn’t have much of an appetite.  The food at the Capitol may have tasted amazing, but his impending demise was enough to make his stomach lurch.  

“After training today, you’ll meet with Vickie for a fitting,” Barb continued.  “Tomorrow’s a big day.  Your scores and interviews.”

Right.

Jonathan had almost forgotten about that part.  He was so caught up in Steve and the arena that it slipped his mind that they were going to be judged.  That wasn’t even the worst of it.  He was going to have to give an interview.  He was a terrible public speaker.  It was possible he was more nervous about that than about dying.

Between the interview and training with Steve… Jonathan was already the most stressed he’d been since he volunteered.  He wouldn’t fight it though.  He knew this was part of the deal.  

Steve shifted a bit from the other end of the table.  “It’s nothing to be worried about.”

Jonathan wasn’t so sure about that.  He supposed there were bigger things to worry about at the moment.  He was going to need to pick and choose his battles.

“We’ll head out to train in an hour,” Steve said.  He took a sip of his coffee, wetting his lips.  

They didn’t talk much other than that.  They just ate their breakfast in silence.  Jane watched him closely, like she was trying to decode him.  He did his best to ignore it.  He wasn’t going to have a conversation with her about Steve.  She already had enough on her plate.

When it was time, he met Steve by the elevator.   Jonathan was there first, waiting.  Steve approached him, pressing the button to hail the elevator.

“Are we good?” He asked.

Jonathan shrugged.  “Who said we weren’t?”

He released a heavy sigh.  “You’ve been avoiding me.”

A hollow laugh escaped his lips.  “Of the two of us, I’m the one who’s been here more.  Maybe you’re the one who’s been avoiding me.”

Steve scoffed as he pushed his hair back from his face.  He sucked in a breath, his lips retreating into his mouth momentarily.  “Jonathan… I don’t think I need to remind you of the stakes here.  My evenings should be the last thing we’re worrying about right now.”

The elevator dinged, interrupting whatever counter was on the tip of Jonathan’s tongue.  They stepped inside, avoiding each other’s gaze.  Steve pressed the button for the sublevel to take them to the training gym.

It was strange, seeing the gym empty.  He was so used to it being filled with guards and his peers.  He felt so small standing there.  It was almost overwhelming.  Where would they even start?

“What do you think you need to work on?” Steve asked, leaning against one of the many support beams in the room.

Jonathan’s jaw clenched as his eyes darted around the room.  “Everything.  I don’t even know where to start.  I–  I don’t know what…” his voice trailed off.  He couldn’t breathe.  It was too much.  He didn’t want this.

“Hey,” Steve said soothingly.  “We can take our time.” 

“Except I don’t have much of that,” he snapped, his tone biting.  It wasn’t fair.  It wasn’t Steve’s fault.  Technically, it was his own fault.  He’d do it again in a heartbeat to save Will, to try and protect Jane, but it was still his choice.

A hand on his shoulder made him jump out of his skin.  He looked over his back, and saw Steve standing there.  His wide hazel eyes were seeing right into him, a pitying look on his face.

“You could win this thing if you wan–”

“Don’t,” he said, his voice croaking.  “I’m not going home.  Jane has to.”

Steve tensed, his hand still on his shoulder.  “I know.  But if something happens… if she gets hurt… or worse… you need to try.”

He tore away from Steve’s grasp.  “Don’t do this.  It’s not… we can’t do this.”

Steve frowned, but he didn’t argue.  “Well, we’ve got to keep you around long enough to help her. Let’s start with sparring.  We already know you have some natural talent there.”

A laugh escaped him– he didn’t even feel it coming.  It may have been the first time he’d actually laughed since all this started.  “You think you can teach me some sparring skills?”

Steve’s face softened as he shook his head in disbelief.  “I did win, you know.”  There was levity back in his tone, a smirk appearing on his face.

Jonathan shrugged.  “Well then, I hope you’ve improved since back when we were kids on Four.  If I remember correctly, you won by winning people over and getting a lot of sponsors.  That and out swimming everyone against some creature–”

“You watched?” Steve asked, his voice smaller than he’d ever heard.

He nodded.  “Of course I watched.  I… I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I didn’t… I never thought you’d watch,” he said.  “I mean… it makes sense.  I just imagined… that you’d stay away from it.  It would have been hard to watch if I… if things had turned out differently.”

It was hard to watch in general.  “It wasn’t fun, but… I don’t know.  I felt like you’d be less alone if I was watching.  It’s stupid but we were kids.  It made sense to me back then.”

“Yeah,” Steve said quietly.  “I get it.”   He cleared his throat.  “Come on, let’s get started.  We only have so much time in here before they kick us out.”

They began to spar, and to Jonathan’s surprise Steve had improved a bit.  Still, Jonathan had the upper hand, he was better at dodging than Steve was – thanks to Lonnie.  That said, Steve was more disciplined.  Maybe he had learned more since and Jonathan last fought when they were kids.

For a moment, he forgot that they weren’t messing around back on Four– kids again. Steve jabbed at him, stinging a bit harsher than it used to.  “Come on! That all you got?” He jeered.

He gave back as good as he got, knocking Steve off balance with a sharp hit to his chin.  The punch wasn’t as hard as it could be.  He wasn’t trying to actually hurt Steve.  The outrage Steve and the rest of the Capitol would experience if Jonathan hurt Steve’s face would be insurmountable.  Jonathan stepped wrong, rolling his ankle as he stumbled back.

Steve got the jump on him.  He had him cornered against the wall.  They were locked up, Steve punching a bit against his torso.  He must have thought he’d won but Jonathan was able to swipe Steve’s legs out from under him, sending him on his back.  Jonathan hovered over him, his legs on either side of Steve, getting a few blows in before Steve tapped his arm in surrender.

Jonathan pulled back.  Hewas breathing heavily, fist still raised as he caught his breath.  He was still looming over Steve, looking right into his deep hazel eyes.

“Sheesh, Byers.  Some things never change.  You can still pack a punch,” he said.  He rubbed his chin dramatically.  He paused, leaning up slightly, touching Jonathan’s cheek.  “We’re gonna have to get you checked out after this.  They don’t want anyone going into the arena already hurt.”

His face burned against Steve’s touch.  He cleared his throat as he got off him, extending his hand to help Steve up.  “It doesn’t even hurt.  The bruise is probably cosmetic.”

“It won’t matter,” he said as he took Jonathan’s hand, hoisting himself back on his feet.  

Steve was so close to him when he got up.  His breath was hot against Jonathan’s face.  It was miniscule, a flinch really, but Jonathan could have sworn that Steve moved a millimeter closer to him, before retreating back.  

“Right, well.  We should work on some other things,” Steve said, glancing around the gym.  He walked over to the wall where the weapons were hung.  He paused, his hands on his hips as his eyes scanned over all the arms.  “Anything calling your name?”

Jonathan shrugged.  He wasn’t one for weapons.  Rather, he’d never had to use one before.  “What do you recommend?”

He let out a nervous laugh.  “Well.”  He scratched the back of his head thinking.  “A knife is the easiest… at least for you.  It will require you to be close to your target but… hand to hand is your strong suit as it is.  If you have a smaller knife in your hands while you’re brawling… you’d be able to… you know.”

Jonathan crossed his arms, nodding.  He reached out for a smaller blade.  “It kind of looks like the ones we use down at the fish market.”

“Yeah,” he agreed.  “It does.”

“Is there anything we should do with this?” He asked.  “For training, I mean.”

Steve nodded, holding his hand out for the knife.  Jonathan handed it over, and Steve grabbed a sheath, carefully covering the blade.  He handed it back over.  “Get used to how it feels in your hand.”

Jonathan fiddled with it.  He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do with it.  He’d never paid much mind to the knives he used back at the market.  When he’d go in to help he’d just pick one up and start scaling.

Steve cocked his head to the side towards a mannequin.  “Try throwing some punches with it.  I’ll give some pointers as you go, and then we can move on to the next weapon.  This doesn’t really require a ton of training.”

Jonathan nodded, stalking over to the mannequin.  It was weird fighting something that just stood there, but it did help him get used to gripping a knife while fighting.  That had to count for something.  Still he imagined it’d be considerably harder against a moving opponent.

“Try slicing it as you go,” Steve suggested.  He was circling him, watching closely. “You want to get them with the knife, not just hold it.”

Jonathan obeyed, slicing between blows.  He felt clumsy but he had a feeling it was something he’d have to get used to and quick.  They continued like that for a while.  Jonathan jabbing at the thing and Steve calling out suggestions. 

“Try it with the simulation.  At least this way you’ll have a moving target,” Steve suggested as he began walking over to the simulation ring.  Jonathan had only seen it used once when the chaperones were explaining what every station did.  The other mentors must have also advised that they avoid using it in an open training session.

Jonathan got into the ring as Steve began programming something on the tablet beside it.  “I’m starting you on a lower level to get used to it and then I’ll be oscillating the difficulty as we go. There will be both beginners and experts in the arena.  You have to be prepared for both.”

It felt more natural to fight against the holograms.  At least they moved opposed to the stationary mannequin.  Still, they couldn’t do damage to him like another tribute could.  He wasn’t sure how long he stood in that ring before Steve powered it down.  

“That was pretty good,” Steve said as Jonathan stepped out of the ring.   He glanced up at the clock and sucked his teeth.  “I think we have time for one more thing.  Let’s try a bow.  It’s not the easiest but being able to do damage from a further range has its benefits.”

Jonathan nodded, still breathless as he put his hands on his hips.  “I’ve never used one before.”

“I figured,” Steve said as he took the bow and quiver off the rack.  “I’m not expecting you to be a prodigy, but if you get your hands on one you should know how to use it.”

Jonathan nodded as they walked over to the bullseyes.  Steve handed the bow to him, standing behind him.  He handed over an arrow, and Jonathan fumbled with it, struggling to keep the arrow steady.

“Let me help,” Steve said, a hint of amusement leaking into his tone.  He brought on hand to Jonathan’s, adjusting his grip on the bow.  He reached around to the other hand with the arrow.  He placed it on the rest above his other hand and then drew it back.

“Now we let it go,” he whispered, his hot breath tickling his ear.  His face was so close it was almost flush against Jonathan’s.  He released the arrow. He didn’t even see if it hit the target.  He was looking at Steve, and Steve was looking back.  He was so close, his arms still partially enveloping him.  He felt safe, for the first time since the reaping.

It was Jonathan’s turn to pull back.  He glanced back at the target.  He’d hit the target, but it was far off from the center of the bullseye.  “I don’t think this is my strong suit.”

Steve laughed, sounding hollow.  “Try a few more… on your own and see how you do.  It’s not awful.  You might be able to do some damage to someone if you don’t actually kill them.  Every bit helps.”

He looked down at his feet, nodding.  “It’s weird to think like that.  I don’t… what if I can’t….”

“You will,” Steve said gravely.  “When it’s down to you and someone else… you will.  It just happens.  Something takes over.  You just need to make sure you’re more prepared than they are.”

Jonathan’s hand was trembling as he tried to get back into position. He tried to set the arrow, but couldn’t get it right.  He glanced up at the target and for a split second he saw Jane.  He dropped the bow.  

“I don’t… this isn’t the one for me,” he said quietly.  “I can’t kill someone who doesn’t know it’s coming.”

Steve frowned.  “Isn’t that better–”

“If it’s hand to hand, then it’s because I am in danger.  It’s self defense–”

“Jonathan,” Steve said grimly, gripping Jonathan’s forearms tightly  “In order for Jane to get home, everyone else has to die.  Self defense or not.”

“I… I know that,” he said dumbly.  Of course he knew that.  He just didn’t want to be the one responsible for it.

Steve gave a nod.  “Try it again.  Remember each sound of the cannon means one less person in Jane’s way.  Each person you… eliminate is one less opponent after her.”

Jonathan swallowed thickly.  “Yeah.”  He took a deep breath as he reset the bow and fired.  It was a bit better, but still wasn’t terribly close to the center.

“Again,” Steve said, taking a few steps back, observing him from afar. 

They finished up after the archery lesson.  Jonathan still didn’t like it, but at least he knew how to use one if he came across one.  

“You should use the simulation,” Steve said as they got to the elevator.  “For your adjudication.  I think it’ll get you the highest score.”

“Okay.”

“Nancy will talk you through the interview later–”

“You have another… meeting,” Jonathan said.  It wasn’t a question.  He was used to Steve not being around at night.

He tensed.  “Yeah.”

“Okay.” He repeated.

“If you’re up when I get back… my door is always open,” he said sheepishly.

He wasn’t planning to take Steve up on that.  With everything planned for the next day… he needed as much rest as he could get.  He’d be too distracted with Steve around.  “Thanks.”

They reached their floor and slipped out of the elevator.  Jane raced over, hugging him close.  “How was it?”

He shrugged.  “It’s like the other days, just you get the run of the place.  You’ll see in a few hours.  What did you get up to while I was gone.”

“We talked about the interview,” she said.

That made sense.  They had to take advantage of every minute they had.  The clock was ticking.  They’d be in the arena this time in two days.

Nancy jumped in.  “Yes, once you get back from seeing the med team about that bruise, we’ll get you started.”

“It’s fine–”

“Do what she says,” Hopper said sternly.  “She knows what she’s talking about.  No one is going to want to see a banged up tribute on their screens before the games even begin.”

Barb hummed as she examined him.  “I’ll call the team.  He shouldn’t need a whole workup.”

“Thank you,” Nancy said, rubbing her temples. 

It only took one little spray of some mist for Jonathan’s bruise to vanish.  Technology like that could be so helpful back on four.  Fishing injuries were no joke.  

Nancy examined him after, making sure they did a good enough job.  “It looks good.  How does it feel?”

“It’s fine.”  It was fine before they took care of it.  He’d had worse hits, that one hardly stung.  “The interview….  I… I’m not great with… people.”

Nancy gave him a sympathetic wince as she sat down on the couch across from him.  “Well, we can work on that.  Just be yourself.”

He snorted.  “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not exactly Mr. Popular back home.”

“You don’t need to be friends with these people,” she said.  “It’s about showing them the part of you that they want to see.  You’re actually at a bit of an advantage here.  You volunteered.  The whole country saw you volunteer to save your brother’s life.  Talk about Will and what was going through your head when he was reaped.  Talk about Jane and how she’s like a sister to you.  Talk about your mom and how she’s at home watching two kids that she raised go into the games.  I promise people will respond to that.”

He wasn’t convinced.  “If I’m too robotic or awkward will it make a difference–”

“Pretend you’re talking to me,” Steve’s voice reached his ears.  He was in the doorway of the war room, leaning against the frame. “When you talk about the kids… and Joyce you can tell how much you love them.  Just talk about them like you would to me.”

Jonathan nodded.  He could do that.  He and Steve may have been in an odd space as far as their friendship was concerned but he had no issues talking to him.

Steve brought his attention to Nancy.  “Vickie’s here.  She just needs to take some measurements and then she’ll head out.”

“Right,” she said, glancing at her schedule.  “I don’t want him to overthink this.  He can go meet with her and then take it easy for the rest of the night.  Tomorrow’s a big day.”

He didn’t need to be told twice.  The chair scraped against the floor as he pushed it back, standing up.  He squeezed between Steve and the door, he squeezed one of Jonathan’s shoulders, giving him an encouraging pat on the back as he followed him back out.

“She’s waiting in your room,” Steve said, his hands still on his shoulders as he led him down the hall.  

“You’re still here,” Jonathan noted.  Steve was usually out the door by this time in the evening.

Steve’s hands stiffened on his shoulders.  “I have an appointment later on but… I don’t want to talk about that.  You just need to go get your fitting and think about what Nancy said about the interview.  Practice in a mirror or something, work on some facial expressions.  Maybe when Jane and the others get back from their training session they can practice with you.”

“But you can’t help,” Jonathan said evenly.  

Steve let out a sigh.  “We can’t… I’m not in charge of my schedule… especially not around the games.  If I could be here to help more, I would.  I’m working on getting sponsors and some intel.  These aren’t exactly social calls–”

“Going to the opera and having a date after isn’t a social call–”

“No. It’s not,” he snapped, withdrawing his hands.  “You may not like the methods, but everything I’m doing is to help you and Jane.  You should be more focused on going to the arena than my personal life–”

“So it is your personal life then… not about the games–”

“It overlaps sometimes,” Steve said, crossing his arms.  “Jonathan, I told you… we can’t have this conversation.  Stop bringing it up.”

He snarled, looking away.  “Fine.”

Steve stared at him for a moment before tearing his eyes away.  “Don’t keep Vickie waiting.  I’ll see you later.  Maybe we can go over the interview when I get back.”

Jonathan nodded, looking down at his feet.  He wasn’t sure what to think.  It was unfair of him to give Steve a hard time, but Jonathan was going to die in a few days.  Steve claimed he was doing his best to help make sure Jane would be taken care of but… the optics told a different story.

“Okay.”

“Just… go in for your fitting,” Steve said weakly.  

Jonathan didn’t respond.  He just opened the door to his room and walked inside.  Vickie smiled brightly at him as she walked over and began taking some measurements.  She was trying her best to create polite small talk, but Jonathan’s mind was still on Steve.

Didn’t Steve want to be there?  He made it seem like he wanted to.  Fuck.  He was such an idiot.  He was about to go into an arena to fight for his life, and he was trapped in Steve Harrington’s spell.  Was this what every news outlet in the country was talking about?  Steve had a way of making people feel like he cared about them.  He always had that gift.  Maybe it was never real.  Maybe Steve never cared about him.

Vickie was heading out sooner than he expected, and everyone else had already left.  Jane, Hopper, and Nancy were off for her training session.  Steve was out for his “appointment.”  That left him with Barb, and he didn’t exactly want to chat it up with her.  He stayed in the room, practicing in the mirror like Steve suggested.  

That only lasted for a little while.  Being alone, it gave him time to really digest everything.  He was going to die.  It wasn’t news.  Jonathan had made peace with his morality a while back.  He just thought he’d have more time.

This was better though.  

Jane had to get home.  She had to.  Dying was easy if it meant she could get home safe.  He just needed Mom to keep her head on straight.  Steve said he’d look after them but… he wasn’t so sure he could trust that.

His door creaked open, and Nancy slipped inside.  She was clutching her arms close to her body.  “How are you feeling?” 

He stared at her for a moment and then shrugged.  “It doesn't matter.”

“Sure it does,” she said firmly.  “Let’s talk about the interview.  Steve said you were going to practice.  Would you like my help?”

He was tempted to turn her away but he'd always had a soft spot for Nancy.  “If you don’t mind.”

Her expression softened as she sat beside him.  “Of course I don’t mind.  I– you asked us to prioritize Jane, but we’re looking after you too– as much as you’ll allow us to.”

“This is the important part right?” He asked.  “Getting her sponsors, I mean.”

Her head teetered back and forth. “It plays a big part, but it’s not the only thing.  You two getting decent scores tomorrow will help too.”

“I’m not sure how I’ll score.  Steve, thinks I might do all right but… it’s hard to really demonstrate hand to hand by yourself,” he said.

She shook her head.  “The simulation will be your best friend in there.  I promise, they take it just as seriously as any other display.”

He nodded.  That was something.  It still didn’t make him feel more confident.  He was sure the others from One and Two would be far more skilled at combat than he was.  How much of a chance did he really have? 

“What did you do, when you were in my shoes?” He asked.

Her face hardened as she shifted a bit where she stood.  “I didn’t… part of my strategy was being underestimated.  I made it look like I was shit with a bow.”

Jonathan nodded. He remembered that.  Not her adjudication– no one saw that, but her score.  It was low, and then she was a hell of a sharpshooter in the arena.  It made sense that it was all part of her game.

“Right, yeah.  That makes sense.”  That wasn’t something that would work for him, he needed to come off stronger so it could benefit Jane.

She walked in front of where he was sitting on the bed and squatted so that she was just under his eye level.  She squeezed his hand, looking right into his eyes. “You’re going to do fine.”

Maybe.  He wasn’t convinced ‘fine’ would be good enough.  “You’ll look after her, right?  When we’re in there….”

“Of course,” she said as though it was obvious.  “Just remember, I’m looking out for you too.”

There was something about the look in her big blue eyes.  Sincerity lived there.  She was being genuine.  Nancy Wheeler was going to be looking out for both him and Jane.  That was comforting, despite knowing his plan was to die so Jane could live, knowing Nancy was in his corner was reassuring.

The rest of the evening was relatively uneventful.  They ate.  Steve was out with lord knows who.  Barb was going on and on about how the interviews were her favorite part of the games. Which meant that Jonathan just wanted to hide away in the room.

He did manage to sneak off to the bedroom, but it was only a matter of time before Jane sought him out.  She opened the door to the bedroom a crack, her wide eyes meeting his.  He gave her a small smile. She smiled softly back, slipping into the room.

She climbed up next to him on the bed, resting her head against his on the pillow.  “How are you feeling?”

He shrugged.  “I’m fine.  How about you?  How was training?”

Her face soured.  “I don’t want to talk about that.  I hate it.”

“Me too,” he said honestly.  “Hopper seems to be taking you under his wing.  He must know a lot about… all this.”

She didn’t seem too sure of that, but she didn’t say anything in response.  The sound of a yawn reached his ears and he looked over.  Her eyes were half open, as she let herself go limp against Jonathan.  Would this be the last time they did this?  Was it really possible that this was the last moment his sister would fall asleep on him?

There was a lump in his throat.  That moment had already passed for him and Will.  Will would never fall asleep on him again.  Jonathan wasn’t able to be a safe place for him to rest anymore.  Jane wouldn’t have that either in a few days’ time.  

Jonathan wouldn’t exist in a few days' time.

His stomach churned as the thought stayed with him.  Jonathan would be dead, likely by the week’s end.  He just had to hope that Steve and Nancy would keep their word and look after Jane.  She had to make it home.  She just had to.  He wasn’t sure Mom would be able to go on if both he and Jane perished before her eyes… on a screen… unable to do anything but watch.

Then there was the other part.  The not knowing.  

Jonathan had thought he’d come to terms with his own mortality when Lonnie died.  Here he was, scared out of his mind.  The idea of being nothing was somehow more terrifying than being damned to some torturous afterlife.  At least he knew what pain and anguish felt like.  Nothingness… the idea made him sick.  Thinking about it too much made him feel so much smaller than he ever had in his life.  He wanted to yell and scream and beg for anyone to help… but he knew there was no use.  He volunteered for this.

In honesty, he was almost glad Will was reaped.  If he wasn’t, then Jonathan wouldn’t have volunteered and Jane would be here all by herself, without anyone to advocate for her.  If he had to die– which everyone did– he’d at least have solace knowing that it was to save his siblings.  That was the only thing keeping him sane throughout this.

They fell asleep like that.  Jonathan wasn’t sure when they dozed off.  One moment he was alone with his thoughts– and Jane, and the next Barb came knocking on his door for their wake up call.  

Jane rubbed her eyes groggily as she looked over at him.  “I slept here?”

He shrugged.  “Apparently.”  He didn’t think too hard about how it was the best either of them had slept since all this started.  It wouldn’t matter.  They only had one more sleep until the arena.  After that, there wouldn’t be much of any opportunity to sleep.

She hopped off the bed and looked back at him, her eyes wide with concern.  “It’s the last day.”

Jonathan frowned.  She realized it too.  “Yeah.  You’re gonna do great.  Just listen to what Nancy and Hopper taught you, and you’ll do just fine.”

Her eyes brimmed, as her breath increased.  “We can’t both come home–”

“Hey,” he shushed.  He grabbed her shoulders gently, rubbing his thumbs over them.  “We shouldn’t worry about that yet.  You and me, we’re a team.  We’ll look out for each other in there.  Once it goes on… we’ll figure it out.  Don’t worry about me.  You need to focus on keeping yourself alive.  You don’t ever need to worry about me in there.”

Jane gave him a troubled look.  The wheels in her head were practically spinning.  She must have had some idea that Jonathan wasn’t going to go home.  She had to know that he wouldn’t go home without her… didn’t she?

It was better if she didn’t.  He didn’t know how she’d react and he needed her to have her wits about her in the arena.  She couldn’t be distracted thinking about him.  She had to focus on staying alive.

“We should go eat,” he said, trying to give her a reassuring smile.  He wasn’t sure he was really selling it.  He walked over to the door, holding it open for her.  She didn’t say anything as she walked through the door, and made her way to the dining area.  

At least she wasn’t going to give him too hard a time yet.

Nancy was already strategizing at the table.  Her hair was disheveled as she was going through her notes, pages askew across her plate of untouched macaroons.  Hopper was sitting across the table from her.  His head was tossed back as he pinched the bridge of his nose.  That left Steve, pacing a bit off to the side.

“We need to talk about the arena.” Nancy gave them a serious look.

Jonathan sat down, piling some scrambled eggs onto his plate.  He should get some food into him.  After that night, he wasn’t sure he’d have another meal ever again.  He took a bit, watching her intently.

“You two need to stay away from the cornucopia with all the weapons– especially Jane,” Nancy said.  

“I can fight,” Jane said evenly.

Nancy reached across the table and placed her hand on Jane’s arm.  “I don’t doubt that.  It’s about speed and strength to get to the cornucopia.  While you may have both, some of these tributes are going to have you beat there.  You should focus on getting coverage and hunkering down until after the initial fight.”

She turned to look at Jonathan.  “I think you should take this advice too, but… you might be able to get something on the outskirts of the cornucopia.  Something as simple as getting a blanket or water bottle could come in handy.  You’d be surprised what you can turn into a weapon when motivated enough.  But I want you to grab one, two things tops and get out of there.”

He nodded.  “Okay.”

“After that….” her voice trailed off.

Hopper sighed as he leaned forward.  “Stay alive.  Don’t be stupid.  Keep aware of your surroundings.  Find fresh water.”

“I’ve heard rumors about some of the birds being venomous,” he piped up.  “Steer clear of them if you can.”

They nodded.  He wasn’t sure how likely it’d be that he could avoid a bird, but he could be on the lookout for them at least.  

“What if we’re separated?” Jane asked, looking over at Jonathan.

Nancy frowned.  “You may be.  If that happens, just focus on staying alive.  The smaller the tribute pool is the more likely the gamemakers are to force you all closer together.  That’ll make it easier to find each other.”

“But you both have to stay alive to do that,” Hopper said.

“Any advice for today?” Jonathan asked.  “With the scoring.”

Steve shook his head.  “Just do what we talked about.  Don’t showboat, don’t pay much attention to the judges.  Just show your skills and get out of there.”

Nancy nodded.  “Yes.  Remember what we’ve discussed about the scoring and the interviews.  Don’t overthink it.  No matter what happens, we can adjust.  You’ll have us in your corners as a fallback.”

Not overthinking it was easier said than done.  All Jonathan could do was think about every possible thing that could go wrong between the judging and the interview.  What if he choked?  What if he failed during scoring and then froze up during the interview?  What would he do then?  How could that help Jane?

“District Four, Female.”

They were waiting with the other to be judged.  The first three districts must have already gone.  Jonathan was so busy freaking out that he hadn’t even noticed.  Jane’s eyes widened as she stood up from the bench.

She was trembling as she walked forward, and towards the closed door.  He gave her a supportive smile when she looked back at him.  She could do this.  He knew that she could win this thing.  She just had to convince the judges.

Jane disappeared through the door.  That was the longest wait of his life.  He stared at the door, willing it to open.  He just needed to see that she was okay– that she did it.  He’d be able to breathe a little easier knowing she was able to put her best foot forward.

After an eternity she reappeared.  Two peacekeepers were escorting her.  Weird.  Did that happen with the others?  He wasn’t paying attention.  She walked past him, her eyes wide as she was ushered towards the elevator.

“District Four.  Male.”

He didn’t have time to dwell on it.  He had to go in and do his own presentation for the judges.  Jane would tell him what happened later on.  He stood up and walked toward the door.

The training room was set up.  In a viewing gallery above him, he could just see the judges looking down upon him.  

“Uh… Jonathan Byers, District Four,” he awkwardly introduced himself.  No one moved.  He wasn’t even sure they heard him.  He gulped as he stepped over to the simulator.  Now or never.  He picked up a knife and set the program up.

Jonathan took a deep breath as he waited.  The simulation started up and he gave it his all.  He was on fire.  He’d dodge one hologram while slicing another one.  It wasn’t the hardest setting, but it was far from the easiest.  Maybe he could do this.  Maybe he could get some sponsors.

The simulation ended, and he stepped out of the ring.  He looked up at the gallery.  It wasn’t clear if anyone was even paying attention.  He felt his stomach twist in knots.  All that and it might have been for nothing.

Jonathan put the knife down and walked towards the door.  That was it.  He was going to die and not even be able to help Jane because the judges weren’t paying any attention.  Damn it.  Maybe he should have shown off something else, something flashier that would have gotten their attention.

He went back up the elevator, his head reeling.  What the fuck were they going to do?  Jonathan couldn’t rely on the interview to help them.  The interview was going to be the weakest part of this campaign.  He wasn’t exactly a people person.  He wasn’t even sure his mentors liked him.  What chance did he have of winning over a bunch of strangers?

Jonathan stepped into the common area.  He was surprised to see Jane sitting on the couch with all three of their mentors crowding around her.  What the hell happened?  

“What’s going on?” He asked, panicking.  Jonathan bolted over to Jane, kneeling in front of her.

Steve put a hand on his shoulder.  “It’s all right… we think.”

“What’s all right?” Jonathan asked frantically.

“There was an incident,” Nancy said grimly.  

Jonathan’s eyes widened.  He looked back at Jane, she looked okay physically.  That was something.

“She’s fine,” Hopper interjected.  “She just made a stand in the adjudication room.”

His eyes widened.  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“She took a few peacekeepers by surprise,” Hopper said, a glint of pride in his eye.  “They tried to escort her out, and she attacked them– held her own too.”

“Are you okay?” He asked her, his heart racing a mile a minute.

Jane nodded.  “They did not hurt me.”

He let out a sigh of relief.  “You’re sure?”

Barb tutted her tongue.  “Not yet , they could choose to retaliate–”

“I don’t think they’re interested in that, they’re already sending her to her death,” Hopper said as he folded his arms.  “At least she got to make a stand before she goes in.”

Jonathan looked up at Jane– uninterested in the conversation the others were having.  “You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” she said unconvincingly.  

He gave a firm nod.  After everything Jane was going through, the last thing she needed was for him to give her a hard time.  She had enough on her plate as it was.  They both did.  

“There’s no use worrying about it now,” Nancy said bluntly.  It wasn’t harsh or cruel, just very clinical.  “They’ll release the scores in about two hours.  After that we’ll get you two ready for the interviews.  Try your best to take some time– relax.  The day is still just beginning.”

Steve motioned to the other end of the room with his head.  “You got a sec?”

Jonathan let out a disgruntled huff.  He looked back at Jane.  Hopper was already giving her some words of wisdom, with Nancy watching over her closely.  There wasn’t anything he could do for her yet.  She was in good hands.

He stood up and walked towards the other end of the room with Steve.  

“Yeah?”  He asked.  “Is there anything we can do to… minimize the fallout from this or–”

“Don’t worry about that right now,” Steve said hastily.  “How did your ‘performance’ go?”

Oh.

Right. 

Jonathan almost forgot about that. 

“I don’t know,” he said honestly.  His arms were clutched close to his chest, as he looked back over at Jane.  With all the chaos, he wished he had better news.  “I did what we discussed but… I’m not even sure if they were paying attention.  I have a feeling it was… unremarkable.”

Steve brought his thumb up to his mouth, pressing down against his bottom lip a bit.  He hummed, giving a shrug.  “That’s not necessarily a bad thing.  You don’t want too high a score because it’ll paint a big target on your back.”

“But I don’t want one too low either,” Jonathan said, his stomach twisting in knots.  This was so fucked.  How was this supposed to help Jane?

He waved dismissively at that.  “Don’t worry about that.  Let us do our jobs.  Just try and take it easy for now.  Once we have your scores we can go from there.”

“Were you able to take it easy?  When you were in our shoes?” Jonathan asked.  He wasn’t accusing Steve of anything.  He was mostly just curious.  When Steve was reaped, Jonathan’s mind ran away with itself, imaging everything Steve was going through.  So far, nothing in the Capitol was what he expected.  He was having a hard time picturing Steve’s experience through this.

He frowned.  “Honestly, I don’t know.  It all happened so fast.  I didn’t have someone to look out for either.  It was just different.”

Right.  Steve went in with Nicole Hamilton.  She and Steve kind of ran in the same circle but when they went into the arena she was one of the first to fall.  It was rotten luck mostly, she tripped on something and twisted her ankle.  She was a pretty easy target after that.  Even if that didn’t happen, Jonathan didn’t get the feeling she and Steve were going to be allies or anything.

He was tempted to ask about it.  It was like his impending death was now making him want answers to all the questions he’d never bothered with before.  As much as he wanted to know more, he opted not to ask about Nicole.  There was a reason Steve didn’t talk about this stuff.  No matter how strange things seemed to be between them, he wasn’t going to push that boundary.  He wanted Steve to help keep Jane safe.  While he didn’t think Steve would go back on that if he and Jonathan had a disagreement, he didn’t want to leave anything to chance either.

“It’ll be okay,” Steve said unconvincingly.  “No matter what the scores are, we’ll find a way to work with it.”

Jonathan got this sinking feeling in his stomach that this wasn’t the first time Steve had used that line.  How many kids did he have to give that speech to, knowing he was going to be sending them off to certain death?  Would Jonathan just be another notch on that post?  He felt ill thinking about it.

“Jon,” he said hesitantly.  “We’ll figure it out.  Wherever your brain is… we need it back on Earth.  If you want to bring Jane home, I need you on your A Game.”

He swallowed thickly.  Right.  This wasn’t about him.  It was about giving Jane her best shot, no matter what that meant.  He was getting ahead of himself.  They didn’t even know what the scores were going to be.  If the scores were middle of the road they could work with that.  They didn’t need the highest scores, they just needed to be average.  Steve, Nancy, and Hopper would take care of the rest.  

“Right,” Jonathan said.  He let out a shaky breath.  He had to get it together.  If he couldn’t keep himself sane now, he wouldn’t fare well in the arena.  He had to hang in there just a little longer for Jane’s sake.

Steve looked him up and down, concern etched across his face.  “You all right?  If you need to take a minute, now is the time.  Once those scores come in… it’ll be non stop until after the interview and then… that’s not typically a relaxing experience.”

That made sense.  He couldn’t imagine many tributes got sleep before going into the arena.  He certainly wasn’t expecting to.  No.  Jonathan was fully anticipating a sleepless night.  He was pretty sure his last proper sleep was behind him.  

“I’m okay,” he lied.  Well it wasn’t exactly a lie.  He just wasn’t sure what “okay” was for him anymore.  This was likely the closest he’d get for the rest of his life.

Steve didn’t look convinced, but he let Jonathan have it.  “Okay.  If you need a break from all this– now’s the time.”

“Will you be at the interview?” Jonathan asked suddenly.  He realized there was a fair chance his time with Steve was even scarcer than his time with the other mentors.  Steve had been in and out of the process since they got to the Capitol.  He just needed to be prepared for when that final goodbye was coming.

Steve’s expression softened.  “Yeah, of course.  I’ll see you after too.”

Jonathan felt his shoulders relax at that.  “Okay.  Good.  I’m not good with goodbyes–”

“It doesn't have to be–”

“ Steve ,” Jonathan said desperately.  “Jane has to come home.  There’s no discussion.  I’m not coming out of the arena.”

Steve’s eyes dropped but he nodded.  “I know, I know.  I just meant… I’ll be the one to deliver you tomorrow.  You won’t have to worry about goodbye until then.”

Oh.

He wasn’t sure how to feel about that.  It was good that Nancy and Hopper would be with Jane.  For whatever reason, Hopper seemed to take a liking to her, and Nancy was the strategic mastermind behind this whole thing.  She’d be in good hands.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice faltering.  He cleared his throat, refusing to let himself get emotional.  There was no time for that.  “Okay.”

Steve gave his shoulder a pat, gripping the top of it affectionately.  “The scores will be out in a few hours.  Just, try not to worry about it until then.  You did your best.  We’ll figure out the rest.”

Jonathan wasn’t sure what to think about any of this.  The closer they got to the arena, the harder it was to imagine Jane walking out of it.  Seeing Hargrove train in the flesh… Jonathan was sure he’d be the victor.  

“Don’t overthink it,” Steve said, his eyes searching his face for something.  “Nothing ever happens the way you expect in the games– even if the favorites win.  I promise, we’ll at least be able to give Jane a fighting chance.”

“You can’t promise that,” he said stoically.  “It’s like you said, anything can happen.  She can fall off the platform and get blown to bits before the games even start–”

“She won’t ,” Steve said sternly.  “She’s smart.  You said it yourself.  If she listens to Nancy and gets to coverage that’ll get her out of the initial bloodbath.  After that, she just has to be smart– which you said she is–”

“I didn’t just say it,” he snapped.  “It’s the truth.”

“Okay,” he said evenly.  “If it’s the truth then trust her to be smart, and trust us to do what we can and bring her home.  I need you to worry about how you are going to stay alive in there long enough to help her.”

Jonathan frowned, looking down at the ground.  “Yeah, get a knife or something on the outskirts and get out of there.  Like you said.”

“Yeah,” Steve affirmed.  “Just like that.  Don’t worry about Jane.  That’s my job now.”

“How do I find her?” He asked.  Jonathan wasn’t sure he’d ever felt so small.  “Once we’re in there.  How will I find Jane?  Nancy said–”

“She’s right,” Steve cut him off.  “Nancy knows what she’s talking about.  If you two manage to stay alive, the gamemakers will force you two closer together for the plot.  Your job is to make sure the audience is invested in you two as siblings looking out for each other. That is the only thing you need to get across in the interview.  Let us do the heavy lifting.  You just focus on staying alive.”

Jonathan nodded.  He knew all this.  The closer they were getting to the games, the harder it was to remember all this.  The only thing he could think about was how he was going to have to die in the hopes that Jane would get home.  He wouldn’t know if his sacrifice was worth it or not.

Steve removed his hand from Jonathan’s shoulder giving his bicep a firm pat.  “Go relax.  Hang out in the room, have some snacks, do something to ease up a little before the scores come out.  You need your head on straight for the interview.”

Jonathan shook his head.  If he let himself be alone, the last thing he’d do is relax.  Being here with Jane was one thing, but the idea that his mother and Will would have to watch them give interviews in just a few hours… that was somehow even worse.  He knew how Jane was feeling, and what she was doing.  He would never know what was going through his mom and brother’s heads while this happened.

“I should be with Jane,” he mumbled.

Steve’s brow creased.  He gave a defeated sigh as his shoulders sagged.  “Do what you want.”

Jonathan didn’t need to be told twice.  He walked back over to Jane, sitting beside her.  Steve wouldn’t understand.  Jonathan’s only purpose for the last few days of his life was to keep her safe.  If he let himself ruminate in that, he might get too distracted to do her any good.  Self pity would only get him dead sooner and then where would that leave Jane?

Waiting for the scores was strange.  Time seemed to stand still and also move quickly at the same time.  It was all coming too quickly and too slowly.  He was torn between wanting to stay in these last few hours of nothing and wanting to know what their next moves were.  All the while, he could feel Steve’s eyes burning a hole into him.  Of all the days for Steve to be around, it had to be this one.

When the coverage finally did start, that was somehow worse.  They were district four, so that meant they didn’t have to wait too long for their scores, but seeing the first three ahead of them didn’t do much to ease Jonathan’s nerves.  Both the boy and girl from One scored a nine.  Twelve was the highest score you could get, but you never really saw anyone score over a ten.  So nine was an impressive score.

Two.  The girl, Heather - scored an eight, and Hargrove scored a ten.  He was already a clear favorite.  It wasn’t that Jonathan was surprised, he’d seen Hargrove train.  He was brutal and almost animalistic.  Jonathan hoped that when he did finally perish in the arena, he wouldn’t be leaving Jane to face Hargrove.

The kids from Three were younger.  That made it all the harder to watch.  One was a little older than Jane and the other was the same age.  The girl scored a six and the boy a seven.  There were worse scores but Jonathan just hoped the poor kids went quick.  The last thing they deserved was to suffer.

That brought them to Four.  

Jane gripped Jonathan’s hand tightly, her big brown eyes glued to the screen.  Jonathan held his breath as he saw his face show up on the screen.  He’d get his score first then.  The ten seconds between his face showing up and the score appearing were the longest of his life. 

Nine.

Jonathan felt relief break over him.  His eyes stung.  Nine.  They’d get sponsors with a nine.  He’d be able to help her after all.  This wouldn’t be all for nothing.  This was just one step closer to bringing Jane home.

Their mentors were celebrating– offering him words of congratulations.  He didn’t pay them any mind.  The only thing that mattered was that this meant he could get sponsors… and he could use those sponsors to help Jane.

Jane.

Her face showed up next.  Her grip on his hand tightened.  He watched her closely, unsure what to expect from her score.  It didn’t matter as much, knowing that Jonathan had a decent score was enough assurance for him to feel a little bit better about things.

The screen flashed.  It took him a moment to register the score.

Eleven.

Jonathan blinked.  

No one ever scored an eleven.  Well– that wasn’t entirely true.  There was one tribute that scored an eleven when Jonathan was so young his name wasn’t even in the reaping.  He was from Two– he made Hargrove look like an amateur.  He was so brutal, Jonathan had nightmares about him for weeks.  He didn’t even win in the end.  Hypothermia got him.

Still, an eleven.  He wasn’t sure if this was a good thing or a bad thing.  Hopper seemed pleased.  He was jeering enthusiastically, shaking Jane’s shoulder in celebration.  Steve congratulated her, but it was clear he was just as uncertain as Jonathan.

The scariest was Nancy.

She didn’t move a muscle.  Her big blue eyes were glued to the screen.  She seemed to have a theory, and it didn’t look like she was pleased by it.  If Jonathan had to guess, this was the Capital painting a target on Jane’s back.  They were angry that she attacked a peacekeeper.  This was their way of making sure she didn’t make it out of the arena.

Unless, she earned it.

That was almost more terrifying.  What could Jane have possibly done in there to warrant an eleven?  It should have been comforting– that she was able to hold her own.  Jonathan just wished she didn’t have to.  She didn’t talk about her time in the brush, but if it made her that formidable… he didn’t want to think about how she got that way.

“Well,” Nancy said after a long pause.  “Sponsors shouldn’t be much of an issue now.”

Steve frowned, rubbing his forehead.  “Nance, does this change anything for the interviews?”

Her lips thinned.  “Jonathan’s fine, but there is no way Jane goes through her interview without being asked about the score.”

“She can tell them that she’s survived on her own before,” Jonathan offered.  “Will that satisfy them?”

Nancy seemed to consider that.  “Maybe.  She’s so young… small.  Eleven’s are rare as it is.  I think she might be the youngest tribute to ever get one.  It might take up the bulk of the interview.”

“Not if he goes first,” Hopper interjected, motioning to Jonathan.  “If he’s able to get the ball rolling with the sibling angle, they’ll have to ask her about that.”

Nancy didn’t look convinced.  “We don’t know if they’ll have boys or girls go first.  They like to keep those details hush hush… unless you have some intel.”

He shook his head, glancing at Steve.  “You think you might have some pull here?”

Steve’s face was unreadable.  “I have a contact.”

“You have the contact,” Hopper corrected.

Steve’s expression soured.  “We haven’t met since I’ve been back.”

Nancy shot Hopper a harsh look.  “Don’t ask him to do that.”

“Do what?” Jonathan asked.  “This is our lives we’re talking about.  Stop talking around us.”

Steve’s face hardened.  “Nothing.  I have a contact but he’s… unpredictable.  I’ll go take a ride… see if he’s receptive.  He owes me a favor or two.’

Nancy gave him a worried look.  “We can work something else out.  Jane can pivot the conversation to Jonathan or talk about her survival skills.  We’ll keep it vague.  I’ll coach her from now until the interview–”

“It’s fine, Nance,” Steve said, a hint of dejection in his voice.  Jonathan wanted to press.  Why was Steve so uneasy about this?  If he was concerned, should they have even been discussing it.  If Nancy didn’t like the idea, that was a good enough reason to reject it as far as Jonathan was concerned. 

Jim gave a firm nod.  He sat back in his seat, seeming awfully pleased with himself.  Jonathan didn’t know what to think of it.  He knew he wanted nothing more than to wipe that smug look off his face.

Nancy shot daggers at him.  Clearly, she didn’t like this idea much either.  “It could backfire.  I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Didn’t you hear me?  He owes me a favor,” Steve said, sounding more confident this time.  

Nancy pursed her lips but didn’t challenge him this time.  She let him go, worry still etched across her face as he walked out the door.  Once the door shut behind him, she broke her eyes away.  She put a hand on her forehead momentarily before moving it away.

“Okay,” she said abruptly.  “Jane, we’ll go over some talking points in case Steve isn’t able to pull some strings for you to go second.”  

Jane looked a bit apprehensive.  Jonathan opened his mouth to say something encouraging, but he was cut off before he could get a word out.

“You’ll do great, kid,” Hopper said, giving her a pat on the back.  

She visibly relaxed after that.  Jonathan was both glad and surprised by how adamantly Hopper was in her corner.  Things were weird with Nancy and Steve.  They were his classmates, the two closest things to friends he’d ever had.  It made sense that they’d be a little less eager to let him die.  Hopper on the other hand had no qualms about Jonathan sacrificing himself to bring Jane home.  It was good to have one less person to convince, and one more person who believed in Jane.

Nancy’s face softened.  “It’ll be fine.  Honestly your score will do most of the heavy lifting for us with sponsors.”

Jonathan wasn’t sure how to feel about the scores.  His was a pleasant enough surprise on its own, but Jane’s… He had a feeling this was going to paint a giant target on her back.  There was no doubt the tributes from One and Two would take it as a personal insult that a scrawny little twelve year old scored an eleven.

His stomach lurched as he thought about Hargrove making it his mission to take out Jane.  She didn’t deserve any of this, the last thing she needed was to be dealing with this too.  What was the point of this?  The gamemakers were clearly trying to punish her, but she was just a kid.  The odds weren’t exactly in her favor.  Why would the gamemakers be so worried to single her out?  It didn’t make sense.

Unless she did some serious damage to the peacekeepers she fought.

He liked that idea the least.  Jane was a survivor.  He knew that from the moment he met her, but if she was so lethal that the gamemakers wanted her gone… well at least she might have had a fighting chance to get back home to Four.

“How is Steve going to ‘pull strings?’” He asked, eager to shift the focus away from Jane for just a moment.  The poor kid didn’t have a chance to even let that score settle. 

Nancy’s head snapped up as she looked over at him.  “He has a contact who owes him a favor.  He works on the Media and Broadcasting team.”

“You didn’t think it was a good idea,” he stated.  It wasn’t a question.  Steve had spent the past several days telling them to trust in Nancy.  Yet here he was, going against her.  If she didn’t think it was a good idea, she must have had her reasons.

She frowned.  “It’s nothing.  I’m… not as trusting, I guess.”

Jonathan didn’t like the sound of that.  There was something they weren’t telling them.  He supposed it made sense.  There was so much on their plates as it was.  The idea of adding something else to the list of the things they needed to worry about was exhausting.  

As if on cue, Vickie came up to the room.  Her prep team was following closely behind her.  “Congratulations on the scores,” she said with a tamed optimistic tone.  It was as if she was nervous to assume that the scores were an indicator of anything positive.  Jonathan didn’t blame her.  Ultimately sponsors didn’t win the game– having them certainly helped but anything can happen once the first cannon goes off in the arena.  All the sponsors in the world won’t make you invincible.

Jonathan exchanged a look with Jane.  He certainly didn’t feel like congratulations were in order, and from the looks of it, Jane didn’t either. 

Nancy gave a tight smile.  “They did great.  I’m sure the sponsors are already flooding in.”

Vickie seemed to take the hint that they weren’t exactly celebrating– well except Barb seemed pretty pleased.  Even so, she wasn’t being over the top.   It wasn’t like she was new to this.  Having Steve and Nancy as recent winners this must have felt pretty typical for her.  

“So.” Vickie clasped her hands together.  “Who’s getting ready first?”

“Jonathan,” Nancy and Hopper said in unison.  Fabulous.  He got to get trussed up like a doll.  At least that would give Nancy and Hopper more time to prepare Jane for the interview in case Steve was unsuccessful in his attempt to… do whatever it was he was doing.

Vickie gave him a sympathetic smile.  “It should be comfortable.  It’s a little less intricate than last time.”

“I’m sure it’s great,” he said honestly.  Vickie had honestly outdone herself at the opening ceremony.  There was no point in denying it.  He was certain that whatever she came up with would be a hit.  

He just didn’t like attention.  

It was stupid.  He knew it was stupid.  He was probably going to die the next day, but he was more worried about everyone in the country listening to him speak that night.  What the hell was wrong with him?  This should have been the least of his worries.  

Vickie motioned towards the bedroom.  “The prep team will get started with you and then I’ll be in shortly to get you dressed and make sure everything fits right, and we don’t need any more adjustments.”

He nodded, looking at the prep team.  They were chattering excitedly in hushed tones.  From what Jonathan could make out they were over the moon about the scores.  It must have looked good for them to work with tributes that had a fighting chance.  

They led him towards the bedroom.  The moment the door closed they started talking enthusiastically about him as if he wasn’t even there.

“So handsome,” one of them said with a pout.  “It’s such a shame.”  

The other one– a scrawny man a little older than Steve gave him a sad look.  “You would have made a killing in the Capitol with a face like that.”

They were talking about him like he was already dead.  He’d be infuriated if it wasn’t true.  Jonathan wasn’t coming back.  He was going to make sure of that.  Still, he didn’t need them talking about him like he was already six feet under.

Fortunately, they moved on.  They started talking about how they hope their work will be recognized.  Maybe next year they can get promoted to a handler like Barb.  After all, Vickie’s work dressing Jane and him has put their work in the spotlight.  

In a way, that conversation is almost worse than them talking about him as if he wasn’t there.  There he was, about to sacrifice his life for his sister, and they’re thinking about how this can benefit them.  It took everything in him to keep from chewing their heads off.  He wasn’t not someone who was overly confrontational, but that didn’t mean he was one to let people walk all over him either.  If he didn’t need them, he’d have a few choice words to share.

They got to work, scrubbing him down– removing some of the body hair that’d regrown since the last time.  One fussed with his hair, and the other applied some paint– mostly to his face, but they did use some on his body to make his muscles look a bit more defined than they actually are.  

Jonathan hardly recognized himself when they handed him the mirror.  He looked different, but almost delicate–softer.  With the exception of the muscles, he wasn’t sure how any of this was supposed to make him look like a contender in the games.  Their mentors had told them not to question the stylists– and by extension their teams.  As a result, he found himself holding his tongue yet again.  

It was dumb.  With everything going on, the prep team and stylist’s choices should have been the least of his worries.  He just couldn’t help it.  It was hard to blindly trust Vickie.  She had proven herself, but she was still Capitol.  There was a fair chance that she was just as opportunistic as her team.  Maybe she’d get a better district next year if all went well that night.

Vickie walked in, clutching a few garment bags.  She smiled warmly at him as she hung the bags in the closet.  Her eyes scanned him neutrally as she examined him.  She looked back at him.  “What do you think?”

He blinked.  “What do you think?”

She gave him a small smile.  The handheld mirror was handed to her and she passed it along to him.  “What do you like?  Dislike?  Do you have any suggestions?”

Jonathan didn’t have an answer.  He didn’t particularly like any of it.  He certainly didn’t have any suggestions.  This wasn’t something he was overly familiar with.  “I don’t know.  It just doesn’t look like me.”

“Do you want them to tone it down?” She asked patiently.

Jonathan didn’t know what the right answer was.  “I trust you,” he settled on.  “You’re the expert.  I don’t know how this is supposed to look.”

Her expression remained neutral as she nodded.  “Let’s get you dressed and then you can see the whole package.  After that maybe you’ll have more suggestions.”

He doubted it.  Even if he had any ideas, there was little chance he’d actually address it.  Vickie was the expert, they were told not to argue with her and just let her do her work.  Besides, he really didn’t know the first thing about this stuff.

She walked over to the garment bags, turning her back to him.  The sound of a zipper met his ears, and he suddenly became overly aware that this would be the second to last outfit his mother and Will would see him in– the last being whatever uniform the tributes were sent into the arena with.  It was his last unique outfit, and it was going to be in some over the top outfit for the entertainment of his executioners.

“Why isn’t it more understated– the face?” He heard himself ask.  “Usually it’s the girls who have all this paint.”

She looked over her shoulder at him, an amused smirk appearing on her lips.  It seemed genuine– like she was glad he spoke up.  “Steve said you were worried about the interview.  This is your last chance to appeal to the audience before the games.  The ‘paint’, or well makeup, is to emphasize your features and soften you a bit.  This way, even if your words are harsh or rough around the edges, there’s a softness accompanying it.  If you don’t like it, we can tone it down a bit–”

“No,” he said abruptly.  “I don’t like it, but… it could help my chances of getting sponsors and… I need all the help I can get.”  It was pathetic.  His eyes burned with humiliation.  He needed to be dressed up like a plaything to help Jane, it was even more dehumanizing than the rest of it.

“Let’s get you dressed.  We can talk about the makeup after.”  She waved a hanger in front of him– clothes dangling from it.  A gentle hand gave his shoulder a supportive squeeze.  

Jonathan let out a heavy breath as he stood up and let her get him dressed.  He let his mind wander.  It was impossible not to.  This was it.  They were in the home stretch.  He’d be in the arena this time the following day. 

He felt numb as he thought about it.  That wasn’t to say he was brave or even particularly confident that he’d still be alive at this point the next day.  No.  He knew one way or another he’d be dying in that arena.  Jane had to win, which meant he had to lose.  He made peace with that.  That didn’t mean it wasn’t daunting.  He just hoped when it came, Jane would have some advantage– that and he hoped it wasn’t too painful or gruesome.  It was mostly for Mom and Will’s sake. He didn’t want them to see him like that.  

Would they be watching?  It was mandatory, but there were ways to avoid it.  The peacekeepers did random checks, but Four was large enough that the chances of getting selected was low.  He wasn’t sure if they were more attentive to the tribute families.  He hoped not.  Having two kids in this was awful enough. 

Mom.

He wished he’d fixed things with her before this.  Not that things were bad but there was a tension there.  Guilt took home in the pit of his stomach.  He wished he’d let go of some of that anger before volunteering.  

“Take a look,” Vickie said as she took a step back from him.

Jonathan was brought back to reality.  He stepped in front of the large mirror.  The paint on his face and upper chest was practically shimmering, like light reflecting on the ocean.  He was a jellyfish again, but it was different this time.  It was more delicate than he was anticipating.  She had him in a sleeveless pale pink tunic.  It was sort of sheer– but not so sheer that he was exposed.  It had a loose hood that she had covering the back half of his head.  He wasn’t sure how it was staying put, but it didn’t slip.

The bottoms were loose the same shade of pink but slightly less sheer.  His arms were where the tendrils came in.  The paint was unlike anything he’d ever seen.  The paint–which he thought was different from the makeup, danced up his arms, but when he moved the tendrils moved with him, like a jellyfish swimming in the ocean.

He understood the delicateness of the makeup.  Something harsher would seem out of place with this costume.

“What are your thoughts?” she asked.

“It’s fine,” he said.  “The arms are…different.”  He was tempted to say they were ‘cool’ but that implied that there was a part of this process he was enjoying.  Giving compliments wasn’t something he was about to do– no matter how well intended Vickie seemed.

She seemed to accept this– not pushing him.  “If you want any adjustments just let me know before we get to the theater.”

He nodded.  “Okay.”

“I have to go get Jane ready.  I’m sure Nancy will want to give you some last minute words of wisdom,” she said politely.

What words of wisdom could she possibly have to give him?  He knew what he was supposed to say.  It was the public speaking part he was worried about.  He didn’t even like speaking to people one on one, now he was supposed to speak with hundreds of people watching– which wasn’t even including the people watching at home.

There was no use arguing with her.  He made his way back into the common area, following a few steps behind her.  When they got into the room, Nancy and Hopper were talking to Jane.  She looked like a deer in headlights.  Jonathan’s heart sank.  He wished there was something he could do or say to make her feel better about this.  That wouldn’t be fair in the long run.  This was horrible, and she deserved to feel that.

“I need to get Jane ready now,” Vickie interrupted gently.  

Jane apprehensively looked between Nancy and Hopper.  Hopper gave her a supportive nod, silently granting permission to go.  That was all it took for her to get up from her seat and follow Vickie to her room.

Nancy looked at Jonathan as if she was noticing him for the first time since he walked into the room.  “You look nice.”

He raised an eyebrow at that.  He wouldn’t necessarily say that he looked ‘nice.’  That said, he understood what Vickie was going for, and it was better than being scantily clad.

Hopper seemed to read Jonathan’s expression and gave him a supportive shrug.  “It could be worse.  You should have seen what they had me in.”

Jonathan had seen what Hopper was in.  While Jonathan wouldn’t have liked to wear it, it was actually one of the better outfits.  Hopper was strong, charismatic, conventionally attractive before he took up drinking.  He was shirtless for both the procession and interview, but he was branded as a sea warrior.  His costumes contained props like tridents and shields.  While his torso was bare there was armour covering the top of his chest and shoulders.  He was a far more impressive specimen than Jonathan was– and the costumes reflected that.  Jonathan looked gentle and almost docile in this.  He wasn’t sure how that was supposed to turn him into a contender.

Nancy steered the conversation back towards the interview.  “The outfit is just to grab attention.  The interview is important.  Regardless of what happens with Steve, you need to bring attention to your relationship with Jane.”

He nodded.  This wasn’t new.  “Okay.”

“Talk up the score too,” Hopper said.  “You did well.  Talk about that.”

“How?  I thought I’m not supposed to talk about my strengths,” Jonathan said.

Hopper frowned.  “Play it up.”

Jonathan blinked at him.  Hopper telling him to play anything up was ridiculous.  If he’d been paying any attention to Jonathan’s training, he’d know that this was the hardest hurdle for him.

“Be vague,” Nancy suggested– shooting Hopper a sharp look.  “Say something like ‘I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve,’ or play humble and draw the attention back to Jane– something along the lines of ‘I wasn’t expecting to get a score that high.  I’m just trying to make sure my sister has the best chance possible.’  Just don’t come right out and say you’re good with hand-to-hand.”

He let out a shaky breath.  The one good thing about this was Four went earlier on in the process.  It would be over with quickly and then the only thing left to worry about would be the games themselves.  “Yeah– yeah.  I think I can do that.”

Hopper stood up and gave Jonathan a supportive pat on the back.  “Take your time.  Don’t rush.  Think through your answers.”

It wasn’t that simple.  

“I’m not good at… getting people to like me,” he said lamely.  The thing was, he didn’t really like other people much either.  He was solitary, and if he was being honest, he liked it that way.  All he needed was his mom and siblings, he didn’t want anyone else around.  He had one friend growing up, and then he stopped talking to him after he won the Hunger Games.

“Just pretend you’re talking to Steve,” Nancy suggested.  “You two have been working together the last several days.  Pretend it’s him.”

They’d suggested that a few times. It wasn’t a bad idea, but it wasn’t the best one either.  To say they had a complicated relationship was an understatement.  He didn’t even know how to feel about him now.  One moment it was like he had his friend back, and the next he was gone–gallivanting around the Capitol with a string of lovers while Jonathan was being led to his demise.

“Okay,” he said anyway.  It was too late to try and come up with another strategy.  He liked Nancy, and she could be a fair substitute, but she was intimidating in her own right.  It might have been too much of a risk.  He was always a bit more nervous around her.  Even when they were kids she was a force to be reckoned with– smart, tougher than she looked.  In another life, he imagined they could have been friends.

“Did he come back yet?” Jonathan asked, fidgeting with his fingers.  It was taking everything in him not to scratch his head or rub his face.  He didn’t want to mess up everything Vickie did.

Nancy frowned, shaking her head.  “Not yet.”

They had to leave soon, which meant there was a chance Steve wouldn’t even be there for the interview.  It stung.  He knew Steve’s absence was because he was trying to make things better for Jane, but he still hoped Steve would be there.

It wasn’t much longer before Jane came back out of the room with Vickie.  His heart sank.  She was beautiful.  Her hair was pinned up, seashells placed strategically to keep it in place.  The top part of her dress was sand colored that blended into a pastel purple.  The skirt flowed down like the jellyfish tendrils.  To top it off she had a sheer scarf that was draped around her back, resting in the crook of her elbows.

The most striking part was that even though the dress was something that an older woman could wear, it just made her look younger.  She should have been in a modest, plain, understated frock.  Yet here she was– made up for the slaughter.

“You look great, kid,” Hopper said reassuringly.

She looked down bashfully, her face flushing at the compliment.  “Thank you.”

Jonathan nodded, his eyes stinging as he looked at her.  This was the same little girl they took in from the brush, wild, unruly, scared.  She looked so beautiful and yet still as young as the first time he saw her.  “You look beautiful,” he said, his voice croaking a bit.

There was a knock at the door, and Barb stepped inside the suite.  “We should be going,” she said, much more business oriented than he’d seen her before.  Maybe she got some slack about Jane fighting with the peacekeepers.  The idea was ridiculous.  If they were already making a big deal over a scared little girl lashing out in fear, he worried about what to expect in the arena.

Barb’s face softened as she took Jane in.  “You both look amazing.  You’ll get sponsors for sure.”

Jane took a step closer to Jonathan.  She gripped his hand tightly, looking up at him fearfully.  “Did Steve–”

“He’ll meet us there,” Hopper interjected, looking at Barb apprehensively.  Clearly she wasn’t in the know about the details of what Steve was up to.  She wasn’t the only one.  Jonathan and Jane had no fucking clue what he was up to, or how he was hoping to ensure that Jane didn’t get interviewed until after him. He had the feeling it wasn’t something they would want to know.

Barb let out a disgruntled huff as she glanced at her watch.  “Tardy as always.”

Nancy clenched her jaw momentarily– if he’d blinked he might have missed it.  She gave Barb an apologetic smile.  “He can meet us there.  I think he was meeting with a potential sponsor.  Everyone is always so busy when the games come around.  We have to take meetings whenever we can.”

That response seemed to satisfy her.  At the very least she let it go for the time being.  She led them to the elevators, selecting another sublevel.  How fucking big was this place?  Jonathan had a feeling it was bigger than the town hall– which was the biggest building he’d ever seen before coming to the Capitol.

It was strange.  Four was better off than a lot of the other districts.  They had three living victors– two of which were recent.  As a result they had more resources than some of the other districts.  But Jonathan’s family wasn’t much better off.  Especially once Lonnie died, it was just Mom bringing in money and food.  In honesty, she was doing the lion’s share of that work before Lonnie died.  

He remembered seeing peers– like Steve and Nancy, and imagining that they had perfect, privileged lives.  Being in the Capitol had shown him just how wrong he was.  The level of wealth and privilege here was foreign to him.  He’d seen bits of the Capitol on television, but assumed it was all part of the fanfare for the games; it couldn’t be like that in real life.  Yet here he was in a building with never ending floors and sublevels– and that didn’t even begin to scratch the surface on this place.

They stepped out onto a sublevel he’d never seen before.  Jane tucked herself closer into his side, hiding behind him slightly.  She’d done that countless times back home.  She was on the shyer side.  Making friends wasn’t easy for her– they were alike in that way. Will was the more outgoing one– sometimes Jonathan wished he was a little less outgoing.  It was hard to know who to trust, even back home.

They could hear the sound of chattering– it was loud, but Jonathan couldn’t make out anything the wall of sound was saying.  There must have been hundreds of people talking.  He couldn’t see where the noise was coming from, but he knew it must have been the audience for the interviews.  There wasn’t any other explanation.  The noise only compared to the cheers they received coming off the train when they first arrived.

“This way,” Barb said, walking briskly.  “We’re running a bit behind schedule.”

He doubted that.  Even if it was true, that would make this her fault.  They were ready and waiting when she got there.  Jonathan held his tongue– Barb was the least of his worries.  

As they followed, he let Jane trail behind him.  It was dumb– he could admit that.  He just wanted to protect her as much as he could before the arena.  He’d have a harder time in there.  At least, he could shield her from whatever they were walking into.

What they were walking into was nothing anyone needed to be protected from, as it turned out.  They were brought into this sort of backroom.  There were monitors where they could see the stage– it was still empty.  The other tributes were there too, but everyone was too busy fidgeting with their own costumes to pay much attention to anyone else.  

Looking at the other costumes, he had to admit Vickie had the best designs by far.  He still felt out of place–being branded as gentle and almost pretty.  Distantly, he was aware that there was a science to this.  It could help him in a number of ways.  His fellow tributes could underestimate him–despite his decent score.  It could also help him get sponsors– the Capitol had deep pockets, and while he wasn’t sure what drove them to invest in one tribute over another, he knew the costumes played a fair role.

Despite this, he found himself feeling overly aware of himself.  He was worried about his posture– his facial expression… the way his hands were falling.  His heart was racing as his eyes fell on Hargrove.  He looked like a warrior, his outfit created the illusion that armor had been molded directly to his body.  How the fuck was he supposed to compete with that?  This wasn’t good.  The interviews hadn’t even started yet and he was already losing his nerve.

Jane must have sensed this because she tugged on his arm.  “It doesn’t matter what the others do.  We just need to listen to Nancy.”

He felt a pang of guilt.  Jane shouldn’t have had to comfort him.  It was supposed to be the other way around.  He was the big brother.

“Yeah,” he said, forcing his breath to slow.  “You’re right.  We’re gonna do great.”  He wished he sounded a little more confident when he said it.  Jane didn’t seem to mind, giving him a firm nod.

When the interviews started, it was boys first.  Maybe Steve was able to pull some strings after all– that or this was the plan from the beginning.  Instinctively, Jonathan glanced over at where Nancy and Hopper were standing, off to the side.  No Steve.  

He hated how that made him feel worse than the impending interview.  Steve knew better than anyone how bad he was at this stuff.  Jonathan could have used a pep talk– not that Steve  was necessarily great at those, but he had to be better than Nancy and Hopper.

Jonathan was so nervous, he practically blacked out as the other interview took place.  The only things he could focus on was that Steve wasn’t there, and he was going to forget everything he and Nancy went over.  This was pointless.  Jonathan was going to ruin their chances, and Jane would be the one to suffer.  All of this would have been for nothing– and his mother’s second to last image would be of her son looking like a jellyfish– how absurd.

Before he knew it, he was being led out on stage.  He looked over his shoulder at Nancy who gave him an unconvincing nod of encouragement.  Worry was written all over her face.  Fantastic.  Even she didn’t think he could pull this off.  

Suddenly, he was face to face with Yuri.  For a second, he was almost starstruck.  He’d grown up watching Yuri interview tributes.  There was something that was oddly warm about him despite the fact that he was an active and enthusiastic participant of the games.  Watching him interview was the least horrible part of being forced to bear witness to the games every year.

“Jonathan– Jonathan,” he waved him over eagerly. 

Jonathan took a few steps towards him, feeling all the eyes in the room shift to him.  He felt a wave of nausea hit him.  Was he about to vomit all over Yuri?  That would be intimidating to the other tributes.

He overcame it as he shook Yuri’s hand.  He had a firm grip, which at least made it appear as if Jonathan did too.  Did stuff like that matter?  Did the sponsors and gamblers notice those details?

Yuri motioned for Jonathan to sit across from him.  Jonathan gladly sat, worried he might faint, or vomit, or simply pass away due to all the fanfare.  How was he supposed to talk?  

Oh god, he wasn’t listening.  Yuri was looking at him expectantly and Jonathan had no idea what he asked.  Well this was off to a great start.

“Could you repeat that?” He asked dumbly.

Lucky Yuri gave an overzealous laugh, addressing the audience.  “I think there are some nerves at work here.”

It wasn’t condescending– or maybe it was.  But the overtones were supportive?  Mostly? He couldn’t tell.

“I was just asking what your thoughts were on the Capitol,” Yuri stated, looking back at Jonathan.

There was plenty Jonathan wanted to say, but none of which was going to earn him any sponsors.  He opted for a safer response.  “I don’t… I’m not sure.  It’s so different from back home.”

What a stupid response! What the hell was wrong with him?  That was a softball question and he couldn’t handle it.

Yuri gave him a patient nod.  “I’ll bet it can be overwhelming at first.”

Jonathan’s lips thinned as the bile burned the back of his throat.  Oh this was even worse than he imagined.  He glanced quickly to the crowd and spotted him.  Steve was there, sitting front and center.  The tension left his body as he looked back at Yuri nodding.

“I don’t know how I ever showered with less than ten settings,” he said.  It was a weak joke, but Yuri laughed generously, and the crowd followed suit.  Yuri was doing the heavy lifting in this interview, but at least he was helping Jonathan opposed to hurting his chances further.

“Not as many settings back in Four?” He asked, a hint of amusement in his tone.

Jonathan winced as he shook his head.  “The settings are just ‘on’ and ‘off’ back home.”

Another laugh.  Jonathan felt himself begin to relax. Maybe he was going to survive the interview after all.

“Correct me if I’m wrong but you volunteered, didn’t you?  Talk to me about that,” he said, giving him a pointed look.

Jonathan glanced back at Steve who gave him an encouraging nod that was much more convincing than the one Nancy gave him.  He brought his attention back to Yuri, his face falling a bit.  “I did.  My brother– Will, his name was called.”

“So you volunteered for him,” Yuri said for emphasis.

Jonathan nodded.  “I did.”

“Did he get to say goodbye before you came here?” 

“He did.  Both him and my mom,” he said, not sure where this questioning was going, and he needed to mention his relationship with Jane.

“What did he ask?” 

Oh, perfect opening, Yuri.

“He asked me to look after Jane,” Jonathan lied.  It wasn’t technically something Will said.  Most of what he said was garbled up in hysterical tears. If he was honest, Jonathan wasn’t certain what it was Will was trying to convey.

That got everyone’s attention.  A hush fell over the audience.  Yuri gave a confused look to the crowd and back at Jonathan.  “He didn’t ask for you to win or–”

“No.  Jane… she’s the closest thing we have to a sister.  Mom started looking after her when she was barely six years old.  As far as I’m concerned, she’s just as much my sibling as Will is,” Jonathan said, and he saw Steve give him a proud thumbs up.

Yuri’s face fell, as the crowd began to murmur.  There were sounds of shock and sympathy echoing in the room.  Well, this wasn’t exactly a hard crowd to win over, he was now more worried about the viewers at home.

“Well, that is some bad luck, Jonathan,” he said.

Jonathan shook his head. “I think it’s the opposite.  If someone else had been reaped, I wouldn’t have volunteered, and then Jane would be on her own.  If I can help her win… help her get back home… it’ll be worth it.”

The audience was silent again, and Yuri to his credit seemed taken aback.  There was a pained expression on his face, as he realized that Jonathan wasn’t going to try and win.  He was going to die no matter what his odds were.

“Well, Will and Jane are lucky to have you as an older brother,” Yuri said, his face still solemn as he spoke.

Jonathan shook his head.  “No,” his voice broke off.  “It’s me who’s lucky.  Being their big brother is the best job I could have asked for.”  He didn’t expect to say it.  It was true, raw, vulnerable… and the crowd ate it up.

“I’m afraid that’s all we have time for Jonathan,” Yuri said.  He looked back at the audience, motioning to Jonathan.  “Jonathan Byers, District Four, everyone.”

They stood, and Jonathan shook his hand before walking back off stage.  He felt himself relax as he reached Nancy.  She was beaming at him.  “You did great!”

Hopper hummed in agreement, patting Jonathan’s shoulder firmly.  “She’s right.  You did good, kid.”

It was strange that he felt his chest swell with pride.  He was proud that he had done a good job participating in his own murder.  It was stupid, to feel as though that was an accomplishment.  Still, if it helped Jane, that was all he could ask for.

Jane.

Jonathan looked over at where she was standing.  She was at the edge of the curtain, waiting for her cue to step out onto the stage.  Her eyes peered over at him, fear written on her face.  He gave her his best reassuring smile.  She could do this.  If Jonathan could do it, anyone could.

Jane took the stage, timidly walking out onto the stage.  Yuri– over the top as always, bowed in front of her a few times, laughing– like there was some joke the tributes weren’t in on.  It was funny to them, that this twelve year old had the best score out of all the other tributes.  Even with that score, the Capitol wasn’t taking her seriously.

He and Jane sat.  As Jane settled into the chair, the scarf around her shoulders puffed up, practically hovering about her hair and spreading out– wow.  The jellyfish look was really paying off. 

The crowd cheered, and Jonathan felt disgust.  Was that really all it took, a nice costume, and they were fawning over her.  She was being sent to fight for her life, but at least her dress was pretty.

The first thing Yuri talked about was her score.  It was unavoidable really.  Her score was so high and she was the youngest tribute there.  It wasn’t really any wonder that they’d be curious.  Jonathan was just thankful that Nancy went over this with her before the interview.

“An eleven,” Yuri said, pausing for the audience to cheer.  “That is a very impressive score.  How did you manage that?”

Jane’s face flushed.  “I just tried my best,” she said modestly.  “It happened so fast… I wasn’t expecting a score so high.”

Good.  Vague.  She didn’t give anything away, but also didn’t shy away from the question.  That was good– wasn’t it?
“Well, our friends in the Capitol here have already selected a nickname for you,” he said loudly.

Jane’s brow creased.  “Oh.”

“Little Eleven,” he said giddily.  “Not the most creative, but you know, it’s to the point.”

Something flashed across her face momentarily.  “‘Little’ Eleven?”

He hummed, nodding.

“I don’t think there’s anything little about that score,” she said.  Jonathan knew her.  He knew, more likely than not, she was genuinely curious about the inclusion of the word ‘little,’ but he wasn’t sure how anyone else would interpret that.

Yuri chortled, the crowd following suit.  “You have a point.  When she’s right, she’s right.  Eleven it is!”

The crowd applauded again.

“I’m not sure if you were listening backstage, but we just spoke with Jonathan,” he paused, looking at Jane expectantly.

She nodded.  “Yes.”

“He revealed that you two are close– practically brother and sister–”

“We are,” she said hastily.  “I don’t remember having a family before.”

“Before what?”

“Before Joyce took me in,” she said, averting her gaze.

“Joyce… is that Mrs. Byers?” He pressed.

She looked back up at him.  “Yes.  She is Jonathan and Will’s mom… and mine too.  I… I call her Mom.”

The audience oohed and ahhed at that.  It was clear that Jane was winning them over, without even needing to try.  He’d be jealous if he wasn’t so proud.  For the first time since they got to the Capitol, it was starting to feel like she had a real chance of winning this.

“Jonathan, he said he’s going to try to protect you,” Yuri continued.  “How did that make you feel?”

She paused.  Jonathan wasn’t sure if this was something Nancy had gone over with her.  It must have been.  Right?

“I want to protect him too,” she said softly.  “One of us should go home to Mom.”

The crowd bemoaned with sympathy.  It was almost comical.  In a few weeks time they'd be rewatching Jonathan’s death for fun.

“I hope one of you will, Jane.  I really do,” Yuri said.  With that the music started playing and he gave her one last moment to wave farewell as she exited the stage.  

The moment she was backstage, she raced into Jonathan, clutching onto him tightly.  “Was that okay?” She asked cautiously.

Hopper gave her a sympathetic look.  “Yeah, kiddo.  You crushed it.”

“You were great,” Jonathan echoed, eyes gleaming as he looked down at her.  He clutched her tightly to him, like he was afraid to let her go.  If he was being honest with himself, he was afraid to let go.  They had a limited number of hugs left.  He’d already had his last with Will and Mom; he wasn’t ready to let go of Jane for the last time.  Not yet.

He felt a hand grip his shoulder, the rest of the arm resting along his back– a heavy body lightly knocking against this other shoulder.  His eyes looked to the other side of him to see Steve.

“You both did great,” he said, his thumb running over Jonathan’s shoulder blade.

“Once they finish with the interviews we’ll get you both back to our floor.  You should change into something comfortable and try to get some sleep,” Nancy said, her voice hollow.

Steve hummed at that.  “Sure, but let them enjoy the win for now.  They did good.  Whatever happens in the arena….” his voice faltered.  “Well, they did good.”

Nancy gave Steve a look Jonathan couldn’t read.  “They did,” she said slowly.  “They’re going to need their rest.  Who knows what their options will be in the arena?”

Hopper gave her an exasperated look.  “They know, Nancy.  They don’t need us to remind them.”

That seemed to satisfy her, because she dropped it.  Jonathan didn’t mind what she was saying all that much.  She was right.  Their work before the games was done, but the next bit was the part that really mattered.  They would need to make sure they were as well rested as possible– but Jonathan couldn’t imagine getting much sleep that night.  He was already having a hard time releasing his grip on Jane… how was he supposed to watch her fight to the death?  How could he make sure his sacrifice would come at the right time?

Steve’s hand had shifted a bit, resting where his neck and shoulder meet.  His pointer finger lightly brushed against the nape of Jonathan’s neck.  “Let’s watch the rest of the interviews.  The other tributes might say something we can use.”

Eventually, he let go of Jane.  They studied the other tributes as they spoke , but Jonathan was having a hard time staying focused.  None of it really felt  like it mattered.  People could say whatever they wanted, but it didn’t change the fact that they were all plucked from their homes and brought to this place to fight to the death, in an unpredictable environment and climate.  There was only so much training could do.  It would come down to instincts.  Kill or be killed.

The interviews ended and somehow they wound up back on their floor.  He couldn't remember going up there. It was quiet. Barb left earlier than usual, Hopper and Nancy watching them closely.  Steve was glued to Jonathan’s side, but he wasn’t saying much.  Jonathan wasn’t sure how Steve could stand to do this every year– how any of them could.

Jane would have to, if she won, train the next tributes… watch at least one die.  Over and over.  He didn’t wish it on her, but it would be worth it.  She deserved to live.

At some point, Jane fell asleep leaning against him.  Jonathan let her sleep like that for a while. Nancy, Hopper, and Steve headed to their respective quarters.  Slowly, carefully he picked Jane up and deposited her in her bedroom.  

She deserved to sleep on the too comfortable bed at least one more time.  He tiptoed out of her room back to the living area.  He wasn’t ready to sleep yet.  The idea of going into the bedroom felt nauseating.  It made the hair on the back of his neck stand up tall.

Steve was sitting on the couch.  Jonathan’s heart sank.

“You’re leaving?”

Steve’s brow furrowed.  “No.  I’m not… I’m not going anywhere.”

Jonathan sat beside him with a sigh.  “What are you doing out here?”

“Just thinking,” he said with a sad huff. 

“Uh oh,” Jonathan teased with a deadpan expression.

Steve smiled politely but it didn’t meet his eyes.

“What are you thinking about?” Jonathan asked– grateful for a distraction.

“You,” he said, barely audible.  “With tomorrow… I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

Jonathan’s eyebrows knitted together.  “What?”

“For everything… after my games–”

“We don’t have to do this,” Jonathan said honestly.  He was tired, and Steve being an asshole was the least of his concerns.  He’d more than made up for it by helping him and Jane.

Steve frowned.  “I just spent so much time keeping my distance… if this is our last night together….”

Jonathan felt his eyes well.  Why was Steve making this so hard?  He was the one who created distance.  Not Jonathan.  “What–” his voice strained.  “What do you mean?”

Steve took Jonathan’s hand, toying lightly with his fingers.  “You should be resting,” he said, not looking in his eyes, but at their intertwined hands.

“Come with me?” He heard himself say.  He didn’t want to be alone.  “Maybe it’ll help… like the first night.”

Steve met his eyes, his expression softening.  “Yeah.  I’ll lay with you, Jon.”

Jonathan wasn’t sure what overcame him.  He leaned forward, clumsily pecking Steve’s lips.  His eyes were wet as he buried his head in the crook of Steve’s neck.  For just a second he was a scared kid from Four, finding comfort in the only person he’d ever let in.  “I didn’t want to die without doing that one last time.”

Steve’s breath hitched as he stood up, pulling Jonathan with him.  “It doesn’t have to be the last time….  We have the night.”  He led Jonathan down the hall to his room, tugging his arm as they walked.  They slipped inside Steve’s bedroom, and he lightly shoved Jonathan towards the bed.

Notes:

Thank you to Anne for beta reading! You can find me on Tumblr!

Chapter 4: Games

Notes:

Check out Jo-Harrington and all the amazing edits they've made! It's been such a pleasure to collaborate with them throughout the event!

 

“Steve,” Jonathan panted, his breath labored as Steve nipped lightly at his jaw line.  His hand roamed under Jonathan’s shirt.  Jonathan was laying back on the bed, Steve hovering over him with his knee between Jonathan’s legs.

Steve grinned against Jonathan’s skin as he kissed a trail down Jonathan’s neck.  His thumb grazed over Jonathan’s nipple, causing him to gasp.  His hand was in Steve’s hair; he wasn’t tugging or guiding him, but rather gently caressing him.

“This okay, Jon?” Steve asked as he pulled himself away from Jonathan.  They hadn’t exactly talked about this.  He wasn’t sure what Jonathan wanted from this.  It wasn’t like anything was going on between them… not really.

Jonathan pushed himself up a bit on his forearms.  “Yeah… just….”  His voice trailed off.  

“What is it?” Steve asked.  “There’s no pressure if you don’t want to–”

“No,” he said hastily.  “I’ve never done this before and… are… is this because I’m going into the arena tomorrow?”

Steve’s brow furrowed.  It took a moment for it to register what he was asking.  “Oh… Jon.  No– bab–Jonathan… I’ve wanted to do this for a while.”

He averted his gaze, biting his lip with a puzzled expression on his face.  “You ignored me for years, Steve.  That doesn’t match with what you’re saying.  I know you can’t talk about it– or won’t, but… I don’t know what to think.”

Steve frowned, putting one hand on his forehead, pushing his hair back slightly.  “Come on, Jonathan.  I… you’ve seen how this place is.  It’s not as simple as winning and walking away.  I was trying to protect you from all this.”

Jonathan shrugged.  “I guess.”

“This isn’t about pity,” he said honestly, his voice softening.  “I’ve never pitied you.  What you’re doing, as much as I don’t like it, I respect it.  You’re looking out for your brother and sister.  You saved Will and now you’re doing the same for Jane.  That’s not something I pity.  I hate it, but I don’t pity you for it, Jon.”

Jonathan’s face paled a bit.  Maybe mentioning the siblings wasn’t the best move.  

“Look, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” he continued.  “But this isn’t about pity.  I… care about you.  If you want me to just lay here with you, I’ll gladly keep my hands to myself.  If you want me to leave– I’m out the door.  If you want to continue… I don’t care if I’m your first.” And last .  That part was left unsaid.  

Jonathan looked back up at him, nodding.  “It was hard… watching you in the games.  I was so relieved that you won, and… then you wanted nothing to do with me and I… I felt like I still lost you.”

Steve’s heart dropped.  “I’m not going anywhere, Jon.  No matter what happens in that arena these next few weeks, you’ve got me in your corner.  Trust me, I didn’t want to pull away.”

“I trust you,” he said quietly.  “Promise me you’ll look after Jane… if she wi– when she wins.”

“I promise,” he said automatically.  “Your mom and Will too.  You have my word.”

He wet his lips arching up to kiss Steve sweetly.  “So how does this work?  I mean… I know how it works in theory but….”

Steve gave an amused snort.  “Well, that depends.  We have options.”

“Like what?” He asked.

“We don’t have to go all the way,” he said.  “Or we can.  And if we do… I can do the heavy lifting or let you take the lead or… whatever you want.”

“I don’t really know what you’re even talking about,” he said, his face reddening.  Oh his poor boy.  Of course he didn’t.  Four didn’t exactly have a sex-ed program.  Steve only knew all of this because of his time in the Capitol.

“Okay,” Steve hummed.  “I can just touch you…or suck you off… or I can fuck you– or you can do any of that to me too.  I’m not picky, Jonathan.  Whatever you’re comfortable with is fine with me.”

Jonathan’s blush reddened as he sucked in a breath.  “I want… can you….”

Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.  If Jonathan couldn’t even articulate what he wanted then maybe he wasn’t ready for this.  He didn’t want to push him– Steve knew just how much worse that could make things.

“Jon, if you’re not ready–”

“I’m ready,” he said, his voice barely audible.  “I just wish… we had more time.  I want to do everything with you.”

Steve felt like his heart was in his throat.  Jonathan was going to kill him.  How was he supposed to watch him go off into the arena, knowing he had no intention of coming back to him?  “I know,” he said, his voice faltering.  “I want that too.”

“I don’t want you to ‘fuck’ me,” he said firmly.  “This isn’t some random fling for me.  If we’re gonna do this, I want it to mean something.  I want you to… god, this sounds so stupid but…”

“You want to make love,” Steve finished for him.  The words felt foreign on his lips.  He’d never had sex that meant anything.  It was something he did to keep his loved ones safe.  He was used to fucking, using his body as a means to an end. What Jonathan was asking for was something far more vulnerable.  Steve hadn’t done that before.

“Yeah,” he said quietly.  “If you’re okay with that.”

He nodded.  “Yeah.  We can do that, baby.”

“Can you be the one to… give ?” he asked, his face was red as a tomato.   It was endearing, really.  This was one of Jonathan’s last days on Earth and he was too shy to ask for what he needed.  “I don’t think I’ll be any good at it.  I want it to be… since it’s my only–”

God that killed him.  He wanted his only time to be good… not the clumsy kind of sex that came with a first time.  Because this wasn’t just Jonathan’s first time– like it should have been.  No, this would be the last time too.

“Yeah,” he said gently.  “I can take care of you, Jon.”

Jonathan let out a relieved sigh, resting his head against Steve’s shoulder.  Steve gently carded a hand through his hair, leaning down to pepper a few kisses to his crown.  “Let me do this for you.  You’re in good hands, baby.”

“Thank you,” he mumbled against Steve.  

“Let’s get these clothes off,” Steve said, lightly fiddling with the hem of Jonathan’s collar.  “And then, I have some oil we can use.  It’s good…you’ll see.”

“I trust you,” he said.  His voice was so small, his face still pressed against him.  

Steve pressed one last kiss to Jonathan’s head before giving him a light pat on the back.  “You have too many clothes on.”

“You too,” he muttered, detaching from Steve.  

He pulled his own shirt off in one fluid motion, tossing it to the side.  His hands peeled Jonathan’s shirt over his head, sending it in the same general vicinity of his own shirt.  He lightly shoved Jonathan so he was laying flat again.  

Jonathan looked up at him, his lips parted.  Steve’s eyes scanned over Jonathan’s body.  He was deceptively thin, but his muscles were well defined and toned.  That would help him; it wasn’t clear just how strong his boy was.  If he wasn’t going in with Jane… he might have a real shot at this.

“So gorgeous, baby.” He leaned down and whispered, his breath tickling Jonathan’s ear.  

His boy shuddered, even his chest was getting flushed.  They hadn’t even started yet.  He wondered just how deep he could get that blush by the end of this.  

Steve’s hands roamed up Jonathan’s ribs as he kissed a trail from Jonathan’s earlobe down his neck.  The kisses were chaste little pecks, alternating from side to side.  He wanted to make this last.  He occasionally nipped at his skin, not harsh enough to leave a mark, but just enough to elicit a moan from his boy.

Jonathan shifted beneath him, rubbing against Steve’s leg.  His breath hitched, like he forgot Steve’s knee was nestled between this thigh.  “Steve.”

“I’ve got you, Jon,” he said, brushing some hair out of Jonathan’s face.  His free hand unbuttoned Jonathan’s pants.

Jonathan’s eyes darted between Steve's hand and his eyes, expectantly.  He wet his lips, holding his breath as Steve slipped his hand beneath the waistband of his briefs, taking out his cock.

His cock was already half hard in Steve’s hand.  It was strange seeing it for the first time knowing it’d also be the last.  He’d seen bigger, but it wasn’t small by any means.  It reminded Steve a bit of what his own was like before the Capitol ‘enhanced’ it.  He pushed that out of his mind.  He wasn’t going to dwell on that, not now– not with Jonathan beneath him.

Steve reached over to the bedside table, fishing out the vial of oil.  It was yellow, with a slight glow to it.

Jonathan’s brow furrowed as he looked at it.  “What is that?”

“It’ll help make you feel good,” Steve said.  He poured a small amount of it on his palm, bringing it back to Jonathan’s cock.  He slowly wrapped his hand around it, pumping slowly.

Jonathan let out a low curse as he leaned his head further back against the pillow.  “It feels so warm.”

Steve grinned, pressing a quick peck to Jonathan’s forehead.  “It’s massage oil.  It’s meant to feel warm.  Does it feel good, baby?”  He asked with a tug, a bit more forceful than before.

He nodded, his mouth agape.  “Yeah,” he panted.  “Feels good.”

Steve leaned down, capturing Jonathan’s lips as he slowly increased the pace of his strokes.  Jonathan’s breath picked up between kisses.  “ Oh, Steve,” he moaned.  “It feels like….”

“I know, baby,” he said sympathetically.  “It’s okay, let go.  You’re doing so good for me, Jon.  Such a good boy.”

That must have done something to Jonathan because he let out a groan, spilling all over Steve’s hand.  He looked down at Jonathan, practically limp against the sheets.  There were a few beads of sweat across his forehead as he looked up at Steve, bliss on his face.

“Give me one sec, baby.  I’m not done with you yet,” he said.  He grabbed a tissue wiping up the cum on his hand.  Once that was taken care of he gently pulled Jonathan’s pants and briefs the rest of the way off.

Jonathan tossed his forearm over his eyes, hiding his face shyly.  Steve couldn’t help but give a light chuckle.  He kissed Jonathan’s chest.  “You’re so beautiful, baby,” he praised between kisses.  “Can’t believe I’m the only one who gets to see you like this.  A private art exhibit just for me.”

“Only you,” he mumbled as he moved his arm away from his face to card a hand through Steve’s hair.  “It’s always been you.”

His hand moved from Steve’s hair to cup his face.  Steve pressed a kiss to the edge of Jonathan’s hand before sucking against the dip of his hip.  

Jonathan’s breath faltered as let his hand fall against the bed.  Steve kissed a little lower, placing a chaste kiss to the tip of Jonathan’s cock– already hard again.  It was a reminder of just how young they both were.  When Steve was with older men it took more work to get them hard again, even with the Capitol’s substances to assist.

“You taste so good, baby,” he said as he lapped at the small beads of precum forming at the tip.

Jonathan’s whole body flushed at the praise as he released a startled noise half way between a gasp and a groan.  Steve chuckled to himself.  It was endearing how easy it was to take his boy apart.  He wished it didn’t take this for them to finally have this moment together.

“Hand me a pillow,” Steve instructed. 

Jonathan glanced over his own head, grabbing a pillow roughly and handing it over to Steve.  “What’s that for?”

“Lift your hips up, baby,” he said, tapping against Jonathan’s hips as he spoke.

Jonathan obeyed, eyeing him curiously.  He placed it under Jonathan’s lower back, tapping him again as a signal to relax.

He let his body relax, and Steve gently placed one of Jonathan’s legs over his shoulder.  “This might feel a little uncomfortable at first,” he said as he took more of the oil and coated his fingers in it.  “Tell me if it hurts at all.”

Jonathan swallowed thickly, nodding.  “Okay.”

Steve pressed a kiss to the inside of his knee as he delicately circled Jonathan’s rim.  The oil would help him relax a bit, making the rest easier.  Steve counted his lucky stars for this oil; it was his best friend when he was back at the Capitol.

Jonathan looked up at Steve, eyes wide.  It took a moment for him to realize it but Jonathan was holding his breath.

“Just breathe normally, Jon,” he said sympathetically.  “I got you.  If you want a break, we can wait a little bit.  There’s no rush.”

He shook his head.  “No, it’s just… weird.  Not in a bad way, just… different.”

Steve nodded.  “Okay.  Let me know if it gets to be too much.”

“I will,” he promised.

Steve gently dipped a finger inside, breaching Jonathan.  He was so fucking tight around him.  He let his finger spread the oil a bit.  He knew it would help in the long run if he was on the generous side with it

“Oh,” Jonathan whispered.  “It’s warm but… it’s almost soothing.”

“Yeah,” he said.  “It’s supposed to help you loosen up a little bit.  It’s why they use it for massages.”  He added another finger and Jonathan took it much easier than the first one.

“You’re opening up beautifully for me, baby,” he said, pressing another few kisses to his knee.  “Does it feel good?”

His jaw was slack as he let out a low moan as Steve adjusted the angle.  Oh.  He must have found it.  “What was that?”

Steve grinned.  “That was your prostate, Jon.”

“Okay,” he said, clearly not questioning why that felt so good.  

Steve worked his fingers in and out of Jonathan, brushing against his prostate almost each time.  Jonathan’s panting was becoming more and more frantic.  His baby was already close again.  He had a fleeting thought about how this could be fun to experiment with the next time… but there wouldn’t be a next time.  

He retreated his fingers, and Jonathan let out a wanton moan.  “Steve, please.”

Steve shushed him soothingly.  “Just give me one second, baby.”  He undid his own pants and tossed them on the floor carelessly with his underwear.  He took the oil and generously coated his cock with it.  His cock was big… well above average thanks to the Capitol’s “cosmetic adjustments.”  He didn’t want to hurt Jonathan.  This was about making him feel good.  

Jonathan wet his lips as he looked over Steve’s body.  “How are you so perfect?”

Steve almost felt his heart drop at that before he realized Jonathan wasn’t paying any attention to his cock, but to his face and his chest– his arms and his fingers.  Of course Jonathan was too polite to look directly at his cock.

“From where I’m standing, you’re the one who’s perfect,” he said affectionately.  He retook his place between Jonathan’s legs and lined up against his hole.  “Okay, baby.  This might feel a little uncomfortable at first.  It shouldn’t hurt– but if it does, tell me right away and we’ll add more oil and I can work you open a little more.  This isn’t supposed to hurt.”

Jonathan nodded.  “Okay.”

“Deep breath,” Steve said as he slowly entered him.  Jonathan was still so tight around him, and he was seriously wondering if something was off with the oil.  He looked up at Jonathan’s face.  His eyes were squinted shut but he didn’t seem to be in pain.  “You okay, Jon?”

He didn’t open his eyes.  “I’m fine.  It’s just… there’s a lot of pressure.  But it’s not painful.”

Steve rubbed his hip soothingly.  “Almost there, and then I promise it’ll get more fun, baby.”

Jonathan nodded, blinking his eyes open.  “I never thought I’d be this close to you,” he said so softly Steve almost missed it.  

His heart panged.  The guilt was seeping into him.  He had to keep his distance.  It was the only way to make sure Jonathan and his family wouldn’t be used as leverage against him.  It didn’t matter.  He still hurt his guy, and all that time was wasted.  Now Jonathan was going to the arena and this was Steve’s only chance to show him how much he’d loved him for all those years.

He bottomed out, Jonathan wincing a bit.  “I’m okay,” he said hastily, like he knew Steve was about to ask.  “The pressure is just a lot.  I feel… I don’t know how to describe it.”

“Does it hurt?” he asked gently.  “You won’t offend me if we have to start over–”

“No, it’s not painful,” he said.  “It’s, I’m… full .”

Steve let out an amused laugh, before stilling himself.  Jonathan wasn’t in pain but he didn’t want to add to the discomfort by moving too much.  “Yeah, that happens, baby.  I’m gonna take a few seconds for your body to get used to me and then I’ll start moving.”

“Okay,” he said, breathing a little easier.  Good.  He was already easing up around him.  Steve silently thanked whoever made this oil, at least it was making things a little easier for his guy.

Steve gripped one of Jonathan’s hands, leaning down slightly to gently kiss his lips.  Jonathan’s lips parted, allowing Steve’s tongue entry.  He licked up into his mouth, lazily teasing Jonathan’s tongue with little flicks and sucks.

After a few moments, he began to move.  He gently rocked his hips, and Jonathan’s free hand went to Steve’s shoulder, gripping onto him lightly.  Steve wasn’t pulling out too far… not yet.  

Jonathan wasn’t complaining.  Breathy moans met Steve’s ear as he continued his movements.  Jonathan’s cock was dragging against Steve’s stomach as he rocked in and out of him. He began moving a bit harsher, pulling out further before thrusting back against Jonathan’s prostate.

Jonathan was panting between moans, beads of sweat dampening the crook of his neck.  Jonathan gasped as Steve rolled his hips a bit more forcefully, clenching around his length.  “Steve.”  

“You’re so tight, baby,” he cooed.  “Feel good around me.”

Jonathan threw his head against the pillow as he moved with Steve, hips chasing after his cock when he pulled out before slamming back into him.  The bed squeaked with each snap of Steve’s hips, and he was glad the walls were soundproof.  The last thing he needed was for Nancy or Hopper to give him a lecture about getting too close to a tribute– literally.

Steve increased his speed, still doing his best to be gentle and he thrust his cock in and out of Jonathan, doing his best to hit the prostate with each movement.  Jonathan was chanting his name with desire.  The love in his eyes was unlike anything he’d ever seen, pulling Steve closer, deeper, harder.

“I’m so close,” he said breathlessly.  “Steve, please.  I need–”

Steve didn’t let him finish the sentence, licking up into his mouth as he released his grip on his hand.  He reached down between them, pumping his cock in rhythm with his thrusts.  Jonathan moaned, his eyes rolling back into his head as he came all over their stomachs.  

He didn’t waste anytime, Jonathan clenched around him tightly as Steve began moving swiftly, pounding harshly into Jonathan.  His grip on Jonathan’s hip was likely going to bruise, but that didn’t deter him, chasing after his own release.

Jonathan whimpered beneath him.  The poor thing must have been a bit oversensitive.  “I know, baby,” he said sympathetically.  “Almost there.  Can you hang in there until I finish?”

He nodded, gasping as Steve slammed against his prostate again.  “ Steve, please.”

That was all it took to send him over the edge, coming inside him.  He felt boneless as he collapsed on top of Jon, still inside him.  Jonathan gently petted his hair, whispering sweet nothings into his ear.  ‘I love you’s with honeyed praise placed between them.

It wasn’t fair.  Steve finally got to have Jonathan and he was going to lose him again.  He didn’t want to let him go.  He wanted to stay in this room with him forever, nestled between Jonathan’s legs.  

Eventually Steve rolled off of him, pulling them both off the bed.  He punched a code into the touchpad above the bed.  Within seconds the sheets were replaced with clean ones and he led Jonathan into the bathroom.  He pulled him into the shower and plugged in the settings, letting the water and soap run over them. 

He leaned over Jonathan, kissing his shoulder blades before moving to reach between Jonathan’s legs and rub his cock again.  Joanthan let out a gasp as he leaned his back against Steve’s chest.  Steve didn’t waste time running his thumb over the slit as he pumped Jonathan’s cock in time with his panting.  He kissed Jonathan’s neck sweetly as he quickened his pace. 

Jonathan came with a cry, letting himself lean against Steve for support.  Steve continued to pepper him with kisses, murmuring sweet words of praise into his ear.  

Once they were clean, they went back over to the bed.  Steve wrapped his arms around Jonathan tightly–never wanting to let him go.  Jonathan gripped Steve’s arms tightly.  “I don’t want to die, Steve.”

Steve felt his heart sink as his eyes began to sting.  He wouldn’t cry.  This wasn’t about him.  This was about Jonathan.  “If something happens… if Jane… you need to try to come back to me.”

Jonathan sniffled, looking back at Steve.  His eyes were red, tears threatening to spill.  “Jane needs to win–”

“But if she can’t–”

“How can I go back home without her?” His voice cracked as he spoke.  

“You’ll go back with me,” Steve said sternly.  “If something happens to her, you have to go on, Jon.  You have to fight to come back to me.  Think about Will and your mom.  They can’t lose both of you.”

Tears finally did fall from Jonathan's eyes as a sob wracked through him.

“Promise me, Jon,” he said desperately.  “Please.”  His voice faltered.

He nodded.  “ If Jane doesn’t ma– I promise.”

If Steve was being really honest with himself, he didn’t believe Jonathan.  He wasn’t sure his boy would be able to go on if he saw his sister’s face in the sky.  But he needed Jon to try.  If there was a chance… he wanted him to come back to him.

He wasn’t sure how long they laid there– not sleeping.  Jonathan’s breathing evened out, and Steve had to admit that he gave himself some credit for that.  Their activities earlier in the evening must have been enough to send Jonathan into a slumber despite the impending doom of the coming morning.  

For Steve, drifting off to sleep was short lived, and he found himself stirring, glancing at the clock– cherishing the time left with Jonathan in his arms.  He didn’t want to sleep through that if he could prevent it.

Sleep was ultimately unavoidable.  The day had been long, draining, his body needed the rest and eventually that won out.  His eyes were too heavy to fight and eventually he dozed off.  It wasn’t clear how much sleep he actually got.  His bedroom door opened, jolting him awake, almost as if it was at the exact moment he closed his eyes.

Jonathan instinctively tossed the covers over his head with a groan– seemingly forgetting the circumstances.  Steve on the other hand bolted from the bed, wrapping a blanket around his waist.  A pair of wide blue eyes stared at him in horror.  Nancy.

“Tell me that is not who I think it is,” she said.  There was a calm rage in her tone.  It was far more terrifying than if she was yelling and screaming at him.

Steve pursed his lips, putting his hands on his hips as he beckoned her out the door with him, closing it behind them.  “Who else is up?”

“Answer me–”

“You know the answer, and you can chew me out for it later, but right now we have bigger fish to fry.  Is anyone else up?” He asked in a hushed whisper.

She huffed, shaking her head in disbelief.  “No.  Barb will be here any minute.”  One of her arms dropped to her side in defeat.  “Did you bruise him?”

“What?”

“Don’t play dumb,” she said exasperatedly.  “I’m not stupid.  I know what he’s doing here.  Is there a chance he’s bruised?  If so, we’ll need to take care of that before he goes into the arena.”

Steve sighed.  “I don’t think so, but… I didn’t exactly give him a once over after.”

Her teeth were grinding as she rubbed her forehead.  “Send him back to his room and I’ll take care of it.”

“Nance–”

“ Steve ,” she said, her murmuring tone sharp.  “We need to create distance between the two of you… starting now.  If Barb has any reason to suspect, or even the prep team… you know how fast gossip can spread and the last thing we need is for your jealous fanbase to take anything out on him… or worse.”

Fuck.

He hated that she was always right.  How could he be so stupid?  Of course this wouldn’t just end when Jonathan went into the arena.  The Capitol could still use Jonathan against him.  “I’ll send him to his room.”

“Like right now, Steve.  It’s only a matter of time before everyone is up,” she snapped.  

“I got it,” he said coolly.  He knew she was right, and she meant well, but this wasn’t exactly an ideal wake up call.  Besides the more time they spent arguing about this meant the less time it gave him to get Jonathan back to his own bedroom.

Steve didn’t wait for a response.  He turned away from Nancy and went back into the room.  Jonathan was sitting up, his hair askew and eyes sunken.  He looked over at Steve with worry.  “Who saw?”

“It was just Nancy,” Steve said delicately.  “But she needs – we need you to go back to your room before anyone else gets here.”

His brow creased.  “Why does it matter?  I’ll be dead soon anyway.”

“I need you to trust me, Jon,” Steve said with an apologetic wince.  “This isn’t about us.  I’d keep you here forever if I could, but if the wrong people find out about this they could make things difficult for you and Jane.”

That seemed to be all Jonathan needed to hear.  He was out of the bed, shrugging on his discarded clothes from the night before.  He walked towards the door and paused.  Jonathan looked back at Steve.  “Will I see you again… before?”

“Yeah,” Steve said honestly.  He’d make sure of it.  “I promise.  Just head over to your room and Nance is gonna look you over to make sure I… didn’t give you any bruises or love bites.”

Jonathan’s ears reddened as he released a heavy exhale.  He didn’t protest, though Steve could tell it was taking every fiber in his being not to argue.  He was sure the last thing Jonathan wanted was for Nancy to look him over and apply salve to delicate bruises.  

He slipped out of the room and back into the hall.  Steve wanted to go after him, to hold his hand while Nancy fixed everything.  That would only make things worse.  The Capitol knew about the night before.  They must have.  Steve wasn’t naive enough to believe that the rooms weren’t bugged.  He just had to hope that he could play it off like Jonathan was just another notch in his belt, and everything from the night before was just petty lies to get what he wanted.

At the very least, even if that failed, the general public really couldn’t find out.  Nancy was right, Steve had powerful admirers who likely wouldn’t take kindly to knowing Steve’s heart actively belonged to someone and he was merely warming their beds out of obligation.  Even Lucy would probably feel some sort of hurt or resentment towards him and Jonathan if this got out.  It had to be a secret.  

Steve was on good terms with Brenner.  He did what he was told and never argued, even when he wanted to– especially when he wanted to.  Brenner wouldn’t need Jonathan as leverage to get Steve to cooperate.  He was already there.  That might have been the only part of this that he could use to soothe himself.  Brenner had enough leverage and cooperation, Jonathan was just excess and that should be enough to protect him on that front.  

He waited until Barb came to get him to leave the room.  It felt like the longest twelve minutes of his life.  Sitting at the dining room table, playing with a bagel, while Jane nibbled on a waffle was torture.  His eyes kept drifting towards the hall where Jonathan’s room was, willing the door to open.

“Where’s Wheeler and the boy?” Hopper asked as he stalked over to the table, pouring himself a coffee.

Barb rolled her eyes.  “Apparently Jonathan was tossing and turning last night, and fell off the bed last night.  He has some bruises and Nancy is using a salve to get him good as new.  No one wants to watch an injured tribute in the arena.”

Steve’s stomach churned.  The irony of it all.  The citizens of the Capitol had no problem watching children kill each other, but heaven forbid one of them have some bruising ahead of time.  It probably had to do with the gambling aspect.  If a tribute went in injured despite being in good shape before the arena, it would likely anger some of the people betting on said tribute.  It made his skin crawl.

This was the part that never got easier.  

And it was worse.

Jonathan.

Knowing that he was going to have to watch his boy die already had him on edge.  Would he be watching when it happened?  Would he be busy fulfilling his other obligations while the life was snuffed out of the one person he’d ever loved?  

Which was worse?

Would he be able to contain himself if he watched Jonathan die?  

Could he forgive himself if he missed it?

The door creaked open and Nancy swiftly walked into the dining room. “He’s getting dressed and he’ll be right out.”

“Is he all right?” Jane asked cautiously.

Nancy’s lips thinned.  “Yeah,” she said tensely.  “He’s fine.”

Hopper gave her a strange look.  Clearly he wasn’t buying the story about Jonathan falling out of bed.  Steve hoped he didn’t push the issue.  There was a part of him that missed when Hopper wasn’t paying any attention and just let Steve and Nancy handle things.  It was unusual having to answer to someone.

Steve cleared his throat, looking at Barb.  “What’s the schedule for today?”

She blinked at him.  “Well, the games begin today… obviously–”

“I know, I know,” Steve said, fighting every urge to roll his eyes.  He wasn’t a complete fucking moron.  “What time do they have to be brought to Vickie?”

A heavy sigh left her lips.  “In an hour.  It’s the same as usual.”

Steve wanted to point out that the games did not always start at the same time.  One year the Capitol wanted to build anticipation and begin in the evening.  Another had tributes yanked from their slumber and tossed into the arena before daybreak.  It was a fair question.

The sound of footsteps halted any retort Steve had prepared.  Jonathan crept into the room and sat beside Jane.  His face was flushed as he served himself some eggs, not daring to look at Nancy or Steve.

Jane looked at him oddly, like she was trying to piece something together in her mind.  She must not have bought into the “fell off the bed” excuse either.  As weak as the excuse was, there wasn’t exactly any other benign explanation for phantom bruises appearing on Jonathan’s more sensitive areas.

He should have been more careful.

Guilt filled his stomach and lungs as he glanced over at his boy.  Steve should have treated Jonathan more delicately– like fine china.  He was too clumsy– too negligent.  He got carried away with himself and put Jonathan in a sticky situation.

“Were you two able to get any sleep?” Nancy asked, breaking up the tense silence in the room as she looked at Jane and Jonathan.

Jonathan choked on his orange juice, his face reddening.  Steve diverted his eyes, trying not to laugh.  Did Nancy really have to ask that?

“You okay, kid?” Hopper asked suspiciously.

Jonathan nodded, wiping his face with a napkin.  “Went down the wrong pipe.”

“Huh,” he said, eyeing Jonathan strangely. 

Steve cut in, changing the subject.  “How about you, Jane?  Did you get any rest?”

She nodded.  “A little bit.”

“Barb,” Nancy said, moving on.  “What time do the three mentors need to be prepared for interviews?  I’m sure there’s going to be coverage leading up to the games.”

She frowned, looking down at the pad in her hands.  “Just after the tributes head down to styling.”

“The three of us together?” Steve asked.  “Or separate?”

“Right now, it looks like together,” Barb said, sucking her teeth as she looked through the details.  “That could change.”

Steve hummed.  He preferred it when they did these things together.  Especially with the Jonathan of it all, he needed a buffer to keep him in check.  The last thing he needed was to say something that could put Jonathan in hot water.  

Nancy sighed, looking at Steve– disapproval in her eyes.  She knew him too well.  There was no doubt she was already thinking up ways to keep him out of trouble.  

A loud clang echoed in the room.

Jonathan had dropped his fork against the plate, his hands shaking.  “Sorry.”

Nancy gave him a sympathetic look.  “It’s all right.  Big day.”

“Yeah,” he said sheepishly.

Jane took Jonathan’s hand, squeezing it lightly.  That seemed to calm him, the tremor in his hand halting.

Steve felt like his heart was in his throat.  He wanted to go to him, to hold him, shield him from all this.  Instead he was fated to watch on, unable to intervene.  He felt nauseous even thinking about it.

“We should start wrapping up,” Barb said after a few moments.  “We’ll need to take them to the loading zone and then head over to the interview hall.”

“We can give them a few more minutes,” Hopper said, an authority to his voice.  Steve wasn’t sure he’d ever heard him like this before. The message was clear, the tributes were not to be rushed.

Barb let out an exasperated sigh as she rolled her eyes.  “Don’t take too much longer.  We have a tight schedule.”

“You’ll get them there just fine,” Hopper said, a hint of finality to his tone.  He didn’t want to hear about their schedules again. 

This was a new side to Jim.  Usually, he was indifferent to the schedule– even on the first day of the games.  Hopper was never one to get too involved.  Honestly, if Steve wasn’t as charismatic as he was on his own, Jim wouldn’t have been too involved when he was in the games.  Something was different.  Maybe Jane had just found a way to weasel her way into a soft spot for him, or maybe it was something else.  He’d been different since the reaping.

Steve had bigger things to worry about than Jim’s change of heart.  He cast a glance at Jonathan.  He looked pale, he was still trembling a bit.  This was not good.  His boy was already on edge and they weren’t even in the arena yet.  Would he make it past the initial bloodbath?  What would it mean for Jane if he didn’t?  How could Steve keep his promise to look after Jane if Jonathan was lost so soon?

Nancy must have picked up on this too because she cleared her throat.  “I’ll help Jane get ready– Steve, maybe you could help Jonathan.”  She looked between Jim and Barb.  “If you two could keep an eye on the time….”

“Sounds good,” Steve said just as Hopper was opening his mouth to question this.  Steve just needed another moment alone with Jonathan.  He deserved better than being kicked out of bed first thing the morning after losing his virginity.

He cocked his head to the side, motioning for Jonathan to head over to the bedroom.  Steve followed behind him, eager to get out of there before anyone could protest or argue the plan.  Nancy was giving them a small mercy, allowing them to talk in private for one last time.  He’d never be able to repay her for that.

The moment the door to Jonathan’s room closed, he buried his face in the crook of Steve’s neck.  He was trembling, his breath erratic, it took a moment for Steve to register that Jonathan was silently weeping against him.  

His heart sank.  There was nothing he could do or say to make Jonathan feel better– to make the situation better.  Jonathan was going to die.  This would be one of the last moments of safety in his life.  Steve was going to have to be his sturdy foundation until he went into the arena.  

Steve brought a hand up to cradle Jonathan's head, gently nestling it in his hair.  He held him close, shushing him soothingly as his other hand wrapped around his waist to grip him tighter.  “I’ve got you, Jon.”

Jonathan’s hands were clutching onto Steve’s shirt, his arms tangled around Steve’s torso, holding onto him for dear life.  Sobs wracked through Jonathan’s body, shaking through Steve.  He could feel Jonathan’s anguish in his bones.

Steve pressed a few soft kisses to the top of his head.  He needed to get Jonathan calmed down enough to go to get ready to head into the arena.  Things were only going to get harder from here, and Jonathan needed to have his wits about him.

“I’m so sorry, Jonathan,” Steve said.  “I wish I could fix this.”

Jonathan didn’t say anything, he just sniffled as his breathing began to ease.  His grip around Steve eased as he slowly began to detach himself from him.  He rubbed his eyes, looking down at the floor as he tried to calm himself.

“Take your time,” he said softly, keeping a close eye on him.  He was studying him closely, not sure whether or not he should hold him again or say something to help get him back to normal.  

“Sorry,” he mumbled, looking away.  “I’m just….”

“I know,” Steve said sympathetically.  He was one of the only people alive that knew exactly how Jonathan was feeling, and even his situation was different.  Jonathan was planning to die.  Steve at least hoped that he’d be able to make it out, Jonathan didn’t have that goal.  He was going to die no matter what if he had it his way.

Jonathan cleared his throat, shaking his head.  “It’s just… the past several hours have been a lot.”

Steve nodded.  Maybe he was wrong to sleep with Jonathan the night before.  This was a lot for anyone to process and Jonathan was about to go to his death.  Steve was a distraction, and he should have known better than to engage in this.  “I’m sorry, Jon.  I wish I could do… anything.”

Jonathan rested his forehead against Steve’s calming his breathing.  “I chose to go into the games.  It was always going to come down to this.”

“Doesn’t make it easier,” Steve said quietly.

He cleared his throat, sniffing.  “I have to get ready.  It’ll be upsetting for Jane if the peacekeepers have to drag me out of there.  She needs to have a clear head– or as clear as possible.”

“Yeah, okay,” Steve said, trying to keep his voice even.  Jonathan didn’t need anything else on his plate, so Steve had to be strong until Jonathan was in the arena.  “The clothes are uniform.  They were dropped off first thing in the morning.  Vickie will check in with you before just to make sure everything fits okay.  After that… it’s showtime.”

“Okay,” he said, voice shaking a bit.  “I just have to stay alive long enough to help Jane.  After that… it’ll be easy enough for someone to kill me.”

Steve paused, bile burning the back of his throat.  His brain couldn’t process it.  He’d done so much to make sure Jonathan was protected, and it was all for nothing.  Jonathan was still going into the arena.  Steve was still going to lose him.

“There… there might be… aids.  If you want to go peacefully.  Something poisonous or … I don’t know, lightning or something.  Maybe keep an eye out for that.” The words were painful, shards of glass piercing his tongue as he spoke.  As much as he didn’t want to– as much as he wanted Jonathan to come home to him, if he could at least pass painlessly, that would be something.  It could be a solace to his family, that at least Jonathan wasn’t murdered or killed painfully.  

Jonathan swallowed.  “Yeah, okay.  I’ll be on the lookout for that.  Thanks.”

Steve wished he didn’t thank him.  It wasn’t something to be thanked for.  He’d just told Jonathan to kill himself rather than be killed.  It was quite possibly the worst advice he’d ever given a tribute.  

And it was selfish.

Steve didn’t want to be forced to watch someone strike down his boy in cold blood.  At least this way, he might be able to sleep a little easier.  It also might have been better to Jane, to know her brother wasn’t killed– that he chose to go out on his own terms.  Or it could be worse for her.  If she won, knowing that he died so she could live….  Steve couldn’t dwell on that.  If Jonathan was going to die, the least Steve could do was help him go peacefully.

“Just try to hang in there as long as you can,” he said quietly.

Jonathan nodded, giving a harsh sob.  “I’m not exactly in a rush to die.”

Good.  Maybe he could hang in a little longer if he wasn’t in a hurry to pass.  If something happened to Jane– not that he wished that, but maybe Jonathan would be able to fight and come home to him.

“I’ll be watching, helping the both of you,” Steve said honestly.  “You’re not alone in this, Jon.”

His breath faltered. “Thank you.”

Steve kissed the top of Jonathan’s forehead firmly.  “You don’t have to thank me for this.  If I can make this easier for you… even just a little.  It’s the least I could do.”

There was a light knock at the door, and Steve backed away.  “Go get dressed.  The clothes are in the closet.  I’ll let them know you’ll be right out.”

“Okay,” he said, barely audible.  

Steve gave a tight smile as he walked over to the door.  Barb was standing there, her arms crossed.  He stepped into the hall, closing the door behind him.  “He’s just getting dressed.  It’ll be a second.”

She nodded, glancing down the hall.  Jane was already dressed, Hopper was giving her some sort of a pep talk.  It was strange, seeing him like this.  He usually kept his distance from the tributes.  After all those years of watching the kids flounder, Steve couldn’t blame him.  It was hard enough for him, and Nancy had come out a winner only a few years after he won.  It wasn’t the same.

The door opened, and Jonathan hesitantly stepped into the hall, mostly hiding behind Steve.  He wished he could keep him there and hide him away from the games.  It wasn’t fair.  He deserved better than this.

Barb visibly relaxed and motioned for Jonathan to walk into the main living area.  Steve locked eyes with Jonathan and nodded.  This was how things went.  Barb would go over the process, and then they’d take the tributes to the helipad.  It was typically pretty standard.

Jonathan didn’t need any more reassurance, he stepped into the living room, and tucked Jane under his arm.  He bent down, whispering something in her ear.  A small smirk appeared on her lips.  God, he was so good with her.  Even in that moment, when he was scared out of his mind, he was doing his best to keep Jane in good spirits.

Barb cleared her throat as she glanced over the pad in her hands.  “You’ll have about ten more minutes for last minute strategies and planning.  Then I’ll take the tributes down to the helipad.  There you’ll get your trackers and be taken to your designated dressing areas before start time.”

Jonathan’s eyes widened, looking at Steve with panic on his face.  “I thought the mentors were taking us to the helipad.”

She winced, shaking her head.  “Not this time.  The mentors are going to be needed a bit earlier this year for their interviews.  Apparently, someone ran long last year and the gamemakers want to avoid that this year.”

Steve gave Jonathan a reassuring look.  “It’s okay.  We’ll go over everything before you two go over there.”

That didn’t seem to calm Jonathan down.  Steve didn’t blame him.  He made a mistake.  The last thing Jonathan needed was the added complications that came with losing his virginity the night before going into the arena.  What Steve had done was selfish.  He didn’t want Jonathan to die without having been with him first, and now his boy was on edge on the day he most needed to have his wits about him.  It was all his fault.

“Thank you, Barb,” Nancy said with a tight smile.  “We’ll make sure they’re ready and then you can take them when it’s time.”

Steve wanted to call Jonathan over– to give him one last pep talk, but he knew better.  The less attention they drew to themselves the better.  Nancy would have to be the one to give Jonathan the last words of advice instead of Steve.  The last thing Jonathan needed was for Steve to add even more to his plate.

Instead he walked over to Jane and Hopper, listening to him give her advice about running from the cornucopia to find a place to hide until the initial bloodbath passed.  It was really just an echo of what Nancy came up with, but it was good that they weren’t giving conflicting advice.  It was a small mercy.

He crept over to Nancy, and Jonathan visibly relaxed seeing Steve.  “Finding water’s important,” Nancy said.  “Something for warmth and shelter comes next.”

“Don’t start a fire too late at night.  It’ll give away your location,” Steve interjected.  “So long as your fingers aren’t purple, just try to brave the cold.”

Jonathan nodded.  His eyes were scanning Steve’s face– like he was desperately trying to communicate silently with him.  It was like a punch to the gut.  He wanted to fix this, protect him from all of this.  Instead they still had to put on this act.  

Nancy frowned.  “Hey.” She snapped her fingers in front of Jonathan’s face.  “You need to go in there with a clear head.  If you want to help Jane, you can’t be worrying about anything that’s happened in the Capitol since you got here.  The only thing that matters is surviving long enough to get her to victory.”

Her messaging was clear.  They had to leave last night in the past.  It didn’t matter.  It should have, but it didn’t.  It couldn’t.  Jonathan couldn’t be distracted and Steve had to keep his head on straight if he was going to help get them sponsors.  Nancy was right.  They needed to get it together.

“Yeah,” Jonathan said, wiping his mouth with his hand.  “Okay.  Water, shelter, warmth.”

“And food… if possible,” she said apologetically.  “You just need to be mindful… things in the arena aren’t always what they seem.”

Jonathan was locked in, hanging on Nancy’s every word.  She got through to him in a way Steve couldn’t.  Distantly, he remembered that Nancy was probably the second closest thing he had to a friend aside from Steve.  She had managed to get through to him in a number of seconds– in a way Steve never could.  This must have been hard for her too, knowing that he wasn’t going to make it out on the other side.

“I’ll do my best to observe first before eating things,” he said, pursing his lips as his brow furrowed.  Jonathan was thinking about strategy again.  Good.  He wasn’t worrying about Steve anymore.  

Nancy smiled sadly as she nodded, giving his shoulder a squeeze.  Her eyes began to well as she cleared her throat.  “If you and Jane get separated, don’t stress it too much.  The gamemakers probably won’t keep you two apart for long.  People are going to want to see the doomed siblings from Four.”  Her voice cracked a bit as she spoke.  Steve was right, she was having a harder time than she had let on.

“Okay,” he said quietly, peering over at Jane.  “You’ll look after her, when she wins?”

Nancy gulped, looking away for a moment.  “Of course.  We all will.  Your mom and Will too.”

“Thank you,” he muttered.

They were interrupted by Barb.  “We need to get a move on.”

Jonathan spared him one last sad smile, his eyes filled with affection.  It was brief, over almost as soon as it started.  It was the closest they’d get to a real goodbye.  Fuck this place, still ruining his life long after he’d won the games.  He was sure he’d never be free.

Hopper gave Jane a few final words of encouragement, squeezing her shoulder supportively, before he gently nudged her towards Barb.  She walked over, gripping Jonathan’s hand tightly.  

Steve felt helpless, watching as they were ushered out the door.  He wanted Jonathan to look back, so he could look into his dark eyes one more time.  He didn’t.  It was for the best, Steve wasn’t sure he’d be able to contain himself if Jonathan looked back, eyes pleading for help.  It was better this way.

The moment the doors closed and the tributes and Capitol team walked out, Nancy’s head snapped towards him.  “What the fuck, Steve?”

“Nancy….” his voice trailed off.

“What the hell is going on?” Hopper asked.

Nancy’s doe eyes widened as she jerked her head towards Steve ever so slightly.  Her jaw was clenched, expression hard.  “Go ahead.  Tell him,” she said, not looking away from him.  “He’s gonna have to find out sooner or later… in case this comes back to bite us in the ass.”

Steve frowned, rubbing his forehead.  “It’s fine.”

“We don’t know that yet,” she said slowly, venomously.  He wasn’t sure he’d ever heard her speak in a register so deep.

For the first time since he’d known her, he was genuinely afraid of Nancy Wheeler.  It was like he was in the arena with her.  Was this what the tributes saw right before she killed them?  If so, they must have been terrified in their last moments.

He tore his eyes away from her, clearing his throat.  “He and I spent the night together.”

Hopper’s face transformed.  What was first confusion morphed into shock which was quickly replaced by pity.  “Shit, kid.”

“He’s dying,” Steve said weakly.  “I couldn’t let him die without….”

“Was it about him or about you?” Hopper asked, the pity in his eyes was paired with suspicion.

He wanted to say that it was for both of them.  It was in a way, but Steve should have known better.  Jonathan was about to go into the arena, and there was a fair chance he’d still be somewhat distracted.  He fucked up.  There was no denying it.

“It’s not like it took convincing.  He wanted it just as much as I did but, I should have been the mentor.  I shouldn’t have taken him to bed.  He’s going in distracted now, and that’s my fault.”

Nancy scoffed, shaking her head.  “That’s the least of it.  If Brenner wants to make a point… if you’re not the perfect, obedient, little victor, he’s going to take it out on him.”

“He’s going into the arena.  There isn’t much more they can do to him,” Steve said.

Hopper shook his head. “They can make him suffer… make it brutal.  I think we can all agree that we don’t want either of them to go out that way.”  He spoke about it like he had first hand experience.  Maybe he did.  Hopper didn’t talk about the games before Steve’s much.  It must have been tough, seeing all those mentees die.  

“Fuck,” he hissed.

Hopper shook his head.  “What’s done is done, but you need to play this right.  I don’t want you to say another word about this.  It was a hookup or a pity fuck, right?”

He felt sick thinking of it that way, but he knew Hopper was mentoring him .  Steve had to sell that this was meaningless… just a fuck.  “Yeah.  He didn’t want to die a virgin.  Now he can die having been fucked by the most eligible bachelor in the nation.”  The words tasted acrid on his tongue.  

Nancy’s face softened, sadness appearing in her eyes.  All anger vanished from her as she gave his hand a supportive squeeze.  “That was generous.”

Steve sniffed as he glanced at the clock.  “Fuck.  We have to get ready.  They’re going to start interviewing us for the preliminaries.”  He didn’t wait to be dismissed, he just trod back towards his bedroom.  

Being in the bedroom was worse.

There was a lump under the covers, probably just a bundle of discarded sheets, but for a split second, it was Jonathan.  For less than a moment, Jonathan was just peacefully dozing in Steve’s bed– as he should have been, lazily lounging while Steve made him breakfast in bed.  That was the way Jonathan was supposed to spend the morning after losing his virginity.

He released a shaky breath and retreated to the ensuite.  The water in the shower and sink were both turned on high.  He let himself sob, praying the white noise from the water would be enough to give him some deniability.  This place was going to kill him.

Steve didn’t let himself feel for long.  This was just the beginning.  He’d be in interviews soon, and then the games would really begin.  Jonathan and Jane would be in the arena, and they’d have to watch and do everything in their power to help them stay alive.  The only issue was, there was only so much they could do to help.  If Brenner wanted to make a point, no amount of sponsors could save a tribute.  If he wanted to punish Steve, then Jonathan and Jane were already as good as dead.

The only thing keeping him sane was the knowledge that he had been good .  Steve never complained– not once.  Even when Brenner started trading Steve’s body like currency, he behaved.  Steve had been ‘loyal’ and obedient.  There wasn’t any point in trying to punish him– unless it was just to remind him that he could.

He pushed the thought out of his head.  Thinking like that wouldn’t help anything.  They wouldn’t know until the games began, and Steve still had a job to do.  It wasn’t about him.  Steve had to focus on Jane and Jonathan.  He wouldn’t be any good to them if he let himself get caught up in his own guilt.

The water turned off.  He took a deep breath as he padded back into the bedroom.  He got dressed, detached from himself– almost clinical as he got ready.  They had him wearing an open vest, nothing underneath it, with a pair of jeans that barely hung to his hips.  It left nothing to the imagination. He applied a balm to his under eyes– all evidence of his weeping dissolving away like magic.  It was like nothing happened.  

He took one last look in the mirror as he took a deep breath.  It was time.  The doorknob felt like ice against his skin– how fitting.  The room that was once filled with love and warmth was now frigid and lifeless. 

Steve stepped into the hall, roaming into the living area.  Hopper was there.  He was dressed in a button down shirt, it had a pattern.  He was also adorning a pair of slacks and dress shoes.  It didn’t match his disheveled hair and overgrown five o’clock shadow.  It was a wonder that they insisted on dressing him like this.  No one wanted to see Hopper all dressed up– if anything, the Capitol appreciated it when Hopper was at his lowest– more entertaining to see him disheveled and drunk.

The sound of heels clicking got his attention.  Nancy walked into view.  She was wearing a tight sheer– almost glimmering, dress.  It was tight, it looked almost molded to her body until it got to the bottom– flaring out.  How she was able to walk at all was a mystery.  

She looked miserable.  

Brenner liked to do this.  He’d already taken Nancy’s family.  There wasn’t anything else he could use as leverage against her.  As a result, he had to resort to tormenting her with things like uncomfortable clothing, shoes, makeup, body art, etc.  In the grand scheme of things, there must have been a painful freedom to it.  He couldn’t hurt her anymore, but the cost was losing everyone she held dear.  

Then there was Steve.  He had people that he needed to protect, but being a puppet wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.  Still, he had peace of mind– for the most part, that his family and friends were safe.  Nancy had the pain of knowing they were gone, but she could do almost whatever she wanted.  The only consequence would be… well– this.  He wasn’t sure what was worse.

“You look beautiful,” he said.  It was true, but he knew the words fell flat.  As beautiful as Nancy was, her discomfort distorted that beauty.  It was a beautiful mirage, hiding the insidious intent beneath the elegance.

She snorted, her face filled with disdain.  “Fuck off.”

He gave her an apologetic wince.  It made sense.  He’d hate for her to tell him he looked hot, or fuckable in the getup he was wearing– even if it was true.  That said, he wasn’t sure when the last time anyone reminded Nancy Wheeler that she was beautiful was.  Her brutalism in the games was what most people remembered– or her strategy, playing the weak damsel before transforming into the lethal warrior.

The thing was, it wasn’t a strategy.  Nancy’s survival instincts just kicked in when she was in the arena.  No one had any idea she was that much of a contender– not even Nancy.  Her aim was flawless, but it was natural talent.  She was a survivor, and her instincts were the thing that saved her. 

“We should head down,” she said, looking away from him.  “The last thing we need is to add tardiness to our list of offenses.”

That was a dig at him.  She probably couldn’t care less about being on time.  The interviews didn’t go in any sort of order.  If they were late, someone else would get their spot and then they’d be bumped to later in the coverage.  She just wasn’t about to let him forget that he had put Jonathan and Jane at risk by taking Jonathan to bed.  The last thing they needed was to add fuel to the fire that was already engulfing them.

Steve let her have it.  He knew it was coming from a place of concern.  She’d seen first hand what it was like to be on Brenner’s bad side.  He’d fucked up, and it put everyone in danger… but Steve was selfish.  He’d make love to Jonathan again if he was given the chance to go back and do it all over again.  It was probably best not to mention that to Nancy.

Jonathan’s hands were trembling.  He wasn’t even in the arena yet and he couldn’t keep his head on straight.  How was he supposed to be any use to Jane like this?  He might as well just step off the platform before the cannon went off and blow himself up.  At least then he’d get to die quickly and Jane wouldn’t have to worry about him.  The only reason he wouldn’t do it was he couldn’t do that in front of her.  It’d make it impossible for her to go on and win.  

He was nothing if not a dutiful brother.  Maybe Jane would win, and she’d get to live out the rest of her days… free from the games.  The odds of Will getting reaped a second time was nearly impossible.  He would have done his job.  It’d be worth it if they got to live long boring lives, dying in their old age of natural causes.

The worst part had been hugging her goodbye.  They weren’t allowed to get ready together.  He’d tried to be strong for her, but he was pretty sure she saw right through him.  He couldn’t hide his fear any better than she could hers.

Waiting in the prep room was its own type of purgatory.  Time moved strangely.  So much of the time in the Capitol felt as though he was on a fast track.  It all happened so fast.  He blinked and it was over.  This was different.  It felt like someone had pressed pause, and yet the subtle click of the clock was moving far too swiftly for his liking.

The peacekeepers were stationed by the door.  Jonathan wasn’t a flight risk.  He had no misconceptions about his situation.  Besides, trying to escape would just guarantee his death, and then he wouldn’t even be useful to Jane.  At least in the arena, he might be able to help her chances somewhat.  Even if Jane wasn’t a factor, he wasn’t naive enough to think that he’d be successful in escaping. If by chance he was able to be lucky enough to get past the peacekeepers, there was no way in hell he’d get out of the Capitol.  If anyone actually tried, they either had to be very brave or very stupid.

“Step on the platform,” a voice said.  It must have come from speakers in the ceiling or wall or something.  

He swallowed thickly, eyes looking over to the peacekeepers.  How long would it take for them before they walked over and forced him onto the platform themselves?  It’d be better if he didn’t have to find out.  His legs wobbled as he made his way over to the platform.  It was hard to breathe.  He didn’t want this.  He wanted to go home… hug Will and Mom, bring Jane with him.

The platform began to elevate, his balance failing him.  Maybe he’d fall off instead of jumping.  Would that be worse?  It’d be worse.  He closed his eyes, trying to even out his breathing.  Hyperventilating would do nothing aside from bring attention to him and make him a target.  Besides, he had to be strong for Jane.  She didn’t need to see him freaking out on top of all this.

He locked his knees as best as he could.  Light blinded him as he broke through to the surface.  It looked… ordinary.  There was a grass field, trees surrounding it.  There weren’t any visible bodies of water.  They’d need to find water.  His eyes fell on the cornucopia in the middle of the arena.  There were weapons, bags.  He was pretty sure he could even see some packets of food.  

It was tempting but he could practically hear Nancy scolding him for even considering it.  He looked around at the other platforms.  They had formed a circle with their platforms… the cornucopia perfectly placed in the middle of them.  Where was Jane?

He scanned the platforms desperately.  Why couldn’t he see her?  No– no.  He needed to get to her and run to the woods.  The idea of having to wait until sundown to know if she was alive or not was too much for him.  He couldn’t handle it.  

His eyes fell on the cornucopia.  She must have been on a platform behind it.  Okay.  Maybe he could take the long way around to the woods– try to meet up with her there.  He was a fair runner.  He probably wouldn’t win any races, but he could get over to her quickly if he ignored the cornucopia altogether– not even bothering to get his hands on a backpack or blanket.  

There was a giant countdown projected onto the cornucopia.  Only ten seconds.  Okay.  He had a plan… get to Jane, and get to the woods.  After that they could figure it out.  He just had to get her someplace safe– or well saf er .

The countdown reached zero and Jonathan bolted from the platform.  It was pandemonium, tributes were running every which way.  It was harder to get around to the other side than he expected.  Then he was yanked, falling flat on his back.  He looked up, the boy from One was looming over him.  He had a shark-like grin, as his freckled face looked down at him.  He had a knife in his hand, he drew his arm back and Jonathan moved swiftly.  He rolled over on the boy’s ankles.  He stumbled, and Jonathan bolted away.  

He grabbed a discarded backpack, throwing it on his back as he created more distance between him and the boy from One.  When he made it to the other side of the cornucopia, there was no one there.  

No.

Where was Jane?

No. No. No.  

This could not be happening.  

NO!

Jonathan didn’t have time to freak out.  He had to get the hell away from there.  The boy from One wouldn’t be the only one armed and looking for a kill.  He wasn’t going to make it easy for them.  He ran off into the woods.  Jonathan ran in zig zags.  It’d be harder to track him if he kept changing his trajectory.  It was hard to see.  The brush was heavy, and while he appreciated the coverage the trees provided, it also meant he was practically running blind.  Anything or anyone could be waiting for him on the other side of any tree.

He wasn’t sure how far he actually ran, but he couldn’t be the only one in the woods.  Maybe it’d be better to find a spot to take a break.  He’d need to get his bearings, see if he could regroup.  There had to be a way to get some water, and he had to find Jane.  Running aimlessly through the woods wasn’t going to help him catch up to her.  The only thing it would really guarantee in the long run was that he’d get exhausted and dehydrated.  

Jonathan paused, and glanced around.  He couldn’t see far ahead of him because of the foliage.  He looked up.  The trees.  If there was all this coverage, he might as well take advantage of it.  He grabbed onto a branch of the tree and climbed.  He wasn’t the strongest or quickest climber, but he was skilled enough that he’d be able to get up quick enough that he wouldn’t have to worry about someone finding him mid-climb.  

The bark was rough against his skin, twigs scratching against his face as he climbed.  It didn’t matter.  At least it would make it harder for anyone to come up after him if it wasn’t child’s play getting up there.  He reached the top of the tree and peered out to see if there was anything useful to see.  It looked as though there was a clearing to the Northeast.  He’d venture down after he observed more.  He wasn’t eager to investigate until he got more information.  For all he knew there was something treacherous there– maybe quicksand, a snake pit, or something equally lethal.  

There was something moving in the brush a few yards south of him.  It could be anything– an animal, another tribute– another tribute being hunted by an animal…. This was good though.  He had a fair vantage point.  Climbing the tree was a good idea… despite the slight burning on his hands from the harsh bark.

He was surprised his hands were that sensitive.  Jonathan might not have worked on any of the fishing boats, but he helped out at the docks and shops.  He handled rope absorbed with salt water.  His hands weren’t exactly delicate– they weren’t completely rough and calloused like the fishermen’s but the bark must have been tough for Jonathan to be so sensitive to it.

Would Jane be able to climb without help?

Was she still alive?

How many people were still alive?  Did the cannons go off?  Did he miss it while he was running through the trees?  He’d find out in the long run, eventually the lights would go up in the sky. 

He found himself begging to a higher power for the first time in his life.  Just please let Jane get out of there in one piece.

The sound of a cannon got this attention.  Maybe he didn’t miss it after all.  A few more went off… all together, twelve cannons went off.  Halfway there.  He’d have to wait to know whether or not Jane was one of the survivors or not.  She had to be.  This would have all been for nothing.  

He couldn’t think about that.  Worrying wouldn’t help him or Jane.  Backpack!  He’d forgotten he was able to grab one.  It was time to take stock of what he had.  It could help him make a plan.

Pain coursed through his hand as he gripped the strap of the bag.  He made a note of that.  The bark had to be altered to make it tougher to climb.  There was no reason for it to mess with his hands that much.  He’d have to be strategic about when to come down and go back up.  Someone had won a few years back by outliving everyone else as they hid amongst foliage.  This seemed to be an attempt to combat that. 

The bag had a water bottle with a filter.  It was empty, but that was a good sign.  There was water somewhere.  Jonathan would just have to find it.  One year there was no water and the only way to get it was from sponsors.  He’d hate for all the sponsor money to have to go to something like water instead of medicine or weaponry.  

There was also a jacket, and some gloves.  He’d wished he noticed them earlier.  That would make it easier to climb the trees.  The jacket could be used for warmth.  He was hoping there might be some sort of food or liquid for him to drink, but this was better than nothing.

Hopefully Jane was able to grab some supplies.  She had to have a fair number of sponsors after her high score.  Maybe Steve would send her something to help her get through the night.  

Steve.

Was he watching?  He had to be.  Unless he was giving an interview.  Would they be asking about his odds?  He wondered if they’d gone up or down.  He might have fought Freckles off but he also ran.  He wasn’t giving the image of a killing machine, but he’d proven he was able to handle himself enough.  Maybe his odds were the same as when he started.

Were Mom and Will watching?  He hoped they weren’t, but there was little chance in that.  Mom was probably glued to the screen.  He needed her to keep her head.  She had to look after Will, she couldn’t let this break her.  

A shriek brought him back to reality.

It didn’t sound like Jane.  At least, he didn’t think it did.  It was distant, and sounded closer to the cornucopia.  The cannon went off.  One less tribute… he just needed Jane to be okay.  He didn’t realize he was shaking until he saw the leaves quaking.  

He closed his eyes tightly, trying to focus on his breathing.  Leaves rustling or even falling from the tree could give away his location.  He wasn’t looking to fight again so soon.  Freckles almost killed him.  He wasn’t ready for a rematch yet.

The sun went down, and he wrapped himself in the jacket, using the straps of the pack to secure him to the branch.  If he could get a few hours of sleep, he’d be willing to venture down when the next day came.  He had to find some sort of food and water or else he’d just die from starvation or dehydration… neither of which were pleasant ways to go.

The sky was illuminated and the anthem began to play.  Right.  This was what he was waiting for.  He would know now if Jane was still out there somewhere.  The first faces to illuminate the sky were the two from three.  Then it skipped to district six, and he let out a relieved cry before he could help himself.

He immediately covered his mouth, hoping that wasn’t enough for anyone to identify his location.  It almost didn’t matter.  Jane was still alive.  He hid his face in his hands and finally let tears fall from his eyes.  His sister was still out there.  He still had a chance to help her get home safe.  

Jonathan let his head fall back against the tree trunk.  His eyes felt heavy as relief broke over him.  He let himself drift off to sleep.  The next day he’d have to venture down from his tree and try to find her.

It didn’t take long for him to be awoken.  The sound of a cannon jolted him awake. He glanced around instinctively, looking for any indication that the death might have occurred nearby. Nothing. 

On the one hand, it was promising. He was still relatively safe. On the other hand, he couldn’t help but worry that the cannon was for Jane. He did his best not to think like that. Jane was resourceful, she was a survivor, she’d managed to get away from the cornucopia on her own, he had to trust that she’d be able to hang on long enough for him to get to her.  It wouldn’t do either of them any good if he let himself get worked up with each boom of the cannon. 

Still, he didn’t get much sleep after that. 

When the sun came up, it was much too hot. He shrugged off the jacket and untied the backpack straps binding him once tree. He stuffed the jacket in the sack and surveyed the area from his vantage point. 

There didn’t appear to be any movement— at least nothing haste enough to move the brush significantly. That was likely all the assurance he’d be able to get. Time to go. 

He gingerly descended the tree. The gloves helped but his left hand still stung as he eased himself down. If he found clean water, he’d have to irrigate the cut. Maybe a splinter or something was adding to the scraping from the bark. His feet touched the ground and the crunch of leaves met his ears. 

The sound was probably inaudible to anyone else, but to Jonathan it was as loud as a thunderclap. Did anyone hear? He brought his back flush against the tree trunk, listening for any companions. Nothing. 

He glanced at the ground and strategically toed his way forward. Jonathan was careful, being sure to avoid any visible leaves or twigs. It was risky in its own right to be moving so sloth-like, but he was relying on the thick shrubbery to act as enough of a shield from onlookers. With any luck, he’d hear them before they could see him . 

He was tempted to climb up another tree, he didn’t want to run directly into the clearing with no indication of who or what could be waiting on him. It was almost impossible to get a gauge on how close he was getting, or if he was even moving in the right direction.  Everything looked the same here. There were too many trees too close together. 

Climbing another tree felt like the wrong move. Sure the gloves helped, but he didn’t want to irritate his hand again if he could avoid it. Beyond that, he still hadn’t found water. Climbing up a tree in the hot sun without water felt like a bigger risk than he was prepared to take. He’d inevitably have to climb up a tree again, and didn’t want to rush into it if he could avoid it. 

He tried to pick up his pace. If the cameras were watching— and they had to be, the audience would be eager for some action. If he didn’t get someplace with coverage quick, he’d be fucked. 

His leg got caught on a tree root and he stumbled forward into the clearing.  Stumbling had saved his life. The feather grazing the side of his ear was his only indication that he wasn’t alone. To his left an arrow was lodged into the grass. 

He scrambled back, crab walking erratically as another arrow narrowly missed him, soaring an inch above his head. Then he saw her. The auburn haired girl from One. If she was around, Freckles and Hargrove couldn’t be far. The only reason he was still breathing was because she was apparently a lousy shot. 

His hand felt it first. A dip in the grass, with rocks and gravel. He peered over her shoulder quickly. There was a narrow valley he could climb down to. Anything could be waiting for him there, but it was that or certain death waiting around for an arrow to hit him or the other careers to catch up. 

Down into the valley he went.  He slid down, clumsily rolling down a hill that was far too steep for his liking. He heard her before he saw her. 

The girl from One has decided to pursue him, but based on her shouts, she was having just as though a time with the incline as he was. Well, maybe his contribution to Jane would be leading one career to their deaths. It was better than nothing. 

A punch landed on his check. It wasn’t from a person but a rock. He glanced up, rocks were caving in around them as they slid down the decline. It was a fucking landslide. Suddenly he and the girl from One were no longer interested in each other. 

Jonathan’s feet touched level ground and he rolled forward. He swiftly got to his feet and ran. He wasn’t sure it mattered, as far as he could tell everything in this valley was crumbling. Was there even a way out of there? 

Sunlight peeked out ahead of him in the distance. That was all he needed. He ran faster than he thought he was able. The tiny window of light was getting narrower and narrower by the second. Rocks were falling all around him, hitting against him. He didn’t think he was going to make it. 

He was so close, but the opening was so small. Desperately, Jonathan dove forward. Coarse sand met his skin as he covered his head, bracing for the boulders, rocks, and pebbles to break over him. They didn’t come. 

Jonathan wasted no time. He shot up, ready to run from the girl from one again when he saw it. Her hand was poking out from beneath the large pile of rocks that now blocked the way from clearing. She’d been crushed beneath it.  A cannon went off confirming her death. 

That wasn’t what got his attention though. On the ground between them were her bow and quiver.  Jonathan had weapons.  He grabbed the quiver, slinging it over his shoulder. He moved to pick up the bow with his left hand when he felt it. His wrist barked with pain and he dropped the bow almost as quickly as he touched it. 

He glanced down at his wrist. It was swollen, bruised, probably broken. That was unfortunate. A broken wrist complicated things. His eyes fell on a second backpack. It must have flung off the girl from One. Maybe there was something he could use. 

With his right hand, he grabbed the sack, clumsily forcing it open. He emptied the contents on the ground. A second water bottle— also empty, he didn’t have much use for that, not yet. There was some rope— that could come in handy, and a set of matches.  He shoved the water bottle, and matches in his own bag, leaving out the rope. He walked over by the rocks. He frowned. He was hoping there might be some discarded sticks but no luck. He’d have to make do. 

Jonathan reached back grabbing two of the arrows. He delicately tucked one under his arm, taking care not to stab himself. He broke off the bottom of the arrow, removing the feathered piece. He repeated the process again and gingerly placed them inside his left sleeve, wincing as the side brushed against his wrist.

He gripped the rope, placing one end in his mouth as he tightly fastened the rope around his arm, making a sorry excuse for a splint. He picked up her backpack and hung it around his neck.  Slowly, he rested his arm on the cloth piece and slipped the second strap around his neck too. It’d have to work as a sling. He couldn’t worry about fucking his wrist up more if he could help it. 

Once that was done, he was able to get his bearings.  He had to get out of there.  It was too open, he was too exposed.  If someone else came by, he’d be a sitting duck, especially with his bum wrist.  Then he heard it.

 Initially he was worried it was another threat, then he recognized it.  Water.  That was the sound of running water.  He looked down at his feet.  The sand was damp, shallow.  The water had to be close by.  He listened as best he could, trying to follow the sound.  The sound led him deeper into the new territory– so far if anyone else was around, they were keeping their distance.  Finally, he reached it.  A stream.  

Jonathan was so relieved he could cry– he almost did.   He cupped his good hand, scooping some water past his lips.  It’d only been about a day and he was already desperate for the water.  He carefully maneuvered the backpack off, and fished out both water bottles, filling them up.  It was worth the extra weight to have both full.  He couldn’t stick around here long, and there was no telling how long it’d be before he could find another source of water.  Besides, Jane would need some once he found her.  He walked further along the stream when he saw it.  Trout.  

He’d have to find some coverage nearby.  There likely weren’t a lot of other areas with food and fresh water.  The thing with fish was that it wasn’t something he could really bring with him.  If it’s not eaten right away, or frozen, there becomes a parasite concern.  He wasn’t about to go out that way.  Dying from parasites was nasty work.  He’d seen it a few times in Four.  If someone was really hungry, they’d eat fish out of the trash… it never ended well.

There were a few different kinds of fish in the stream.  He noticed some salmon and trout… those would likely be his safest bet.   There were some trees, but not the kind he could hide in.  The trunks were thin and the leaves were too bare.  Hiding in them wasn’t much of an option, besides he didn’t trust he’d be able to climb with his wrist.  

He had an idea… but he didn’t like it.  There were a bunch of leaves and mud.  He could use the mud to stick some leaves together and create a sort of camouflage blanket.  It wasn’t a great option, but he didn’t see anything else he could do while also staying close to the stream.  Besides, he had no idea what lay ahead.  There was no telling how to even get back to the cornucopia.  Surely there was a way back, but he wasn’t ready to venture away just yet.

So he got to work.  It took longer than he would have liked to stick the leaves together.  In the end, it wasn’t exactly an artistic masterpiece, but he thought it was convincing enough.  At the very least, it’d give him some security come nightfall.  

Eventually, he took an arrow out of the quiver, and clumsily used it to kill a salmon.  Eating raw fish was never something he particularly enjoyed, but desperate times. He could have used the matches to start a fire and cook it, but it was already dusk.  The smoke could give away his location.  The pain in his wrist was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore.  For someone whose biggest strength was hand to hand combat, this didn’t bode well.  Night fell, and the sky was illuminated again with the faces of the fallen tributes.  The girl from One.  Boy from Eight.  Jane was still alive.  She was out there, fighting.  Good.  She was getting closer and closer to getting home.  There were nine of them left– eight if they didn’t count Jonathan.  Jane just needed to outlive seven more people and she’d be homefree.  

Jonathan let himself relax.  He didn’t even care about his stupid arm anymore.  He walked over to the wooded area, laying between a few trees and he shrugged his leafy blanket over him.  He propped his head up on his backpack and let himself drift off to sleep.

Three cannons one after another went off.  Shit.  He stayed very still, unsure where the kills took place.  There was a cackling laugh.  He wasn’t alone.

“Will you shut up?” A voice hissed– it sounded like a guy.  “There’s no point if they know we’re coming.”

“Bite me,” another returned– this one more feminine.  “Let them hear.  It’s more fun if they know we’re coming.”

“Knock it off,” a third voice said.  He’d recognize that domineering bark anywhere.  Hargrove.  He must have been with Freckles and the girl from Two.  “Tommy’s just bent out of shape because of Carol.  Still, it wouldn’t kill you to shut your trap, Heather.”

Carol.  The girl from One.  He felt a pit in his stomach.  She died pursuing him.  In a way it was his fault she died.  Even if she had been trying to kill him, Jonathan didn’t like that he played a role in her demise.

“We should make camp,” Freckles mumbled.  “I don’t think we’re gonna find the little brat anytime soon.”

“Well, if you hadn’t let her get away– we wouldn’t be in this mess,” Hargrove sneered.  “The last thing we need is for some little pest from Four being a thorn in our side.  Next time you see her, squash her like a bug.”

Jane wasn’t one of the three cannons.  She was far from in the clear.  If Hargrove and his companions had their way… they were coming for her.  It was hard for him to be too mad.  It seemed like she had given them a run for their money.  Good.  He’d just wished he had a chance to see whatever trouble she was giving them.

He heard it.  A twig snapped directly next to his head.  The girl from Two– Heather, was dangerously close.  He peered through a hole in the blanket… as far as he could tell, the other two weren’t too close.  

Jonathan tightened his grip on the arrow he’d used to kill the fish.  If she discovered him he’d have to move quickly.  As if on cue, she stepped on him.  She froze.  “What–”

He rolled over, knocking her down.  She had a knife in her hand, slashing at him.  He was quicker, jabbing her with the arrow harshly.  Blood pooled at the corners of her lips as her eyes searched his face desperately.  God, this was so much worse than the girl from One.  Instinctively, he grabbed her hand, trying to provide some kind of solace as the light left her eyes.  The knife fell from her hand, and Jonathan pocketed it.  He’d be better with that than a bow.

“What was that?” Freckles asked, clearly hearing the struggle.

The cannon boomed.

“Heather!” Billy called.  “You find someone?”

Jonathan quietly moved, gripping his leaves as he slowly created some distance between himself and Heather– while also doing his best to stay out of Hargrove and Freckles’ line of sight.  Once he was several yards away, he laid back down, covering himself with the leaves.  He hoped that’d be enough to stay under their radar.  

“Over here!” He heard one of them say.

“What the fuck?”

“Who did this?”

“How?”

“Where are they?’ Hargrove roared.  

Well, Jane apparently wasn’t the only tribute from Four that was on Hargrove’s bad side.  Killing Heather may have just pissed him off more than Jonathan imagined.  He was trembling.  He didn’t want to kill Heather.  It was that or she would have killed him… right?  Did it matter?  It wasn’t like with Carol… Jonathan directly took her life.  His hand plunged an arrow into her gut.

He tried to stop himself from shaking.  If Hargrove or Freckles looked over and saw a quivering pile of leaves, that’d be more than enough to give him away.  Fortunately, they seemed to be so taken aback by her death that they were ignoring any suspicious piles of foliage.  

“Where the fuck is he?” Freckles barked. “It’s gotta be her brother. She and Eight are huddled up together. It’s just us, them, and the brother.”

“Well, then where the fuck did he go, Tommy?” Hargrove snapped. “Unless he can turn invisible, he’s gotta be around here somewhere.”

“It’s an arrow,” Tommy said. “He could have shot it from further back.”

Billy seemed to be more accepting of that. “Shit.”

“We should probably get out of here if he’s waiting to take another shot. It’s too dark for him to see him coming,” Tommy said. 

“How did he see well enough to get a shot off?” He questioned. 

Tommy made a noncommittal grunt. “Maybe he got night vision or infrared glasses from a sponsor. If he’s still alive, he’s got to have some sponsors.”

He didn’t. Or well, maybe he did. He’d made Steve promise to give Jane all the resources. Hopefully, she was spoiled for choice with gifts from sponsors. 

“Shit, maybe,” Hargrove mumbled. “Let’s get out of here.”

Their footsteps tapered off towards the direction of the stream. Jonathan stayed where he was, frozen in place. There was no telling how far Freckles and Hargrove had gone. He’d just barely survived the scramble with Heather. If he didn’t have the element of surprise on his side, he’d have been dead for sure. 

From the sounds of it, Jane was still fine. She’d made an ally. It was likely they'd go their separate ways soon. Allies rarely liked it to come down between the two of them.

If there were only five of them left, the game makers would start forcing them closer together. Good. He’d be able to get to Jane. Maybe she was coping better than he was. The trembling didn’t ever seem to stop. The only thing keeping him going was knowing Jane was still out there, he couldn’t stop fighting without knowing she was going to make it home. 

But his hands were sticky with Heather’s blood. He felt her blood stop pumping, saw the light die out from her. He’d done that. He deserved to die in the arena. He’d become as bad as the Capitol. 

His stomach lurched. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to keep the fish down after that. The only thing keeping him from spilling his guts was pure will. If he threw up, it’d signal where he was hiding. He wasn’t going to die until at least one of the last two careers was out of the way.  He was going to make sure his sister got home if it was the last thing he did. 

Sleep didn’t come to him that night. Everytime he closed his eyes, he saw Heather. If one of the careers didn’t kill him, the guilt would be enough for him to take care of it on his own. She had a family, friends, people hoping for her safe return. Jonathan just made sure another family wouldn’t get to welcome home their loved one. 

The sun came back out and it was time for him to get moving. As much as he would have liked to just hide under his leaves and let dehydration, starvation, or heat stroke kill him, he had to find Jane. It was selfish, but he needed to see his sister one last time before he died. 

He made the decision to leave the camouflage leaf blanket behind. It would take up too much room in the pack, and there was no guarantee the rest of the arena had leaves surrounding it, so it’d stick out like a sore thumb if the rest of the arena was made up of rocks and sand. 

The pain in his wrist was becoming impossible to ignore. It’d swelled up to be bigger than he thought possible. With each miniscule step, the sling would jostle, his arm would move and his wrist would send agony through him. Jonathan had to pause, leaning against a tree as he clutched his arm close to his body.  The sling and splint he’d thrown together were poor substitutes. He wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to function with the wrist in that condition. 

As if on cue, a little parachute dropped at his feet. He couldn’t even be bothered to be mad that they’d sent him something instead of Jane. If it could help his wrist, it’d be worth it. He knelt down, gingerly opening the canister. There was a small container. He opened it. There was some kind of jelly or salve. It didn’t look like the one Nancy applied on his bruises before the arena. Ordinarily, he’d question this. What was the purpose? What did it do? But he was desperate. 

He dipped his fingers in the jelly and cautiously applied it to his wrist. The initial touch made him recoil and hiss, but almost immediately after that, his wrist —and fingers he’d used to apply the jelly were numb. 

“Thank you,” he whispered to no one in particular. It might not have healed his wrist, but at least the pain was more bearable. He’d be able to keep walking and find Jane with the pain being less intense.  Jonathan stuck the rest of the jelly in his backpack; there was a fair chance he’d have to reapply. 

He continued on. The thinly wooded area that bordered the sandy ground went on endlessly. Time moved strangely. It wasn’t clear if he’d been walking for hours or minutes. Maybe it was days… or seconds. Was this a side effect of the jelly? Or was it because of the hot sun?  He looked down at his wrist and laughed. He silenced himself with his good hand. It wasn’t funny. Not really. It was just… typical.

The cut from the tree bark was swollen with pus, it looked red, angry. No wonder he was out of it. Infection. He’d been so preoccupied with the wrist that he’d missed the signs. 

He briefly considered applying the balm to it, but opted against it. It didn’t appear to be an antibiotic, and it didn’t actually hurt much. Aside from all that, if he ran into Freckles or Hargrove, he’d need some use of his hand to at least try and fend them off. 

A shriek pierced through the air. 

Oh no. 

He knew that scream. 

Jane. 

Jonathan booked it.  He was sprinting through the trees, the brush getting thicker.  Stealth was no longer on his mind.  The only thing he could think about was Jane.  Where was she?  Was she hurt?  He didn’t hear a cannon yet, that was a good sign.  

In the distance, he was able to make out Freckles.  He was struggling with something.  It looked like someone was on top of him, knocking him down.  Where was Jane?  He inched closer, when it hit him.  Jane was the thing on top of him.  She dropped down on him from the tree, knocking him to the ground.  She was scratching at him, bringing her weight down on his neck and face.  

There was a rage in her eyes that he’d never seen before.  She gripped a dart and stabbed it into the side of his neck.  Freckles’ face swelled, turning purple.  He was gagging, desperately trying to catch his breath.  The cannon fired.

She didn’t stop.  Jane was still yelling, scratching, punching.  

“Jane,” he said, his voice cracking.

She stopped, looking up.  Her eyes locked with his.  The anger left her eyes as they began to well.  “You’re okay.”

“More or less,” he said, smiling for the first time since he’d left Steve’s bed.  “You?”

She nodded.  “We have to help her.”

He opened his mouth to question her, but she grabbed his hand and tugged him deeper into the woods.  There was a figure on the ground, resting against a tree trunk.  Oh.  The girl from Eight.  An axe was lodged in her chest.  Somehow, she was still breathing.  Her breath was shallow, but she was still hanging on.

“Jane,” Jonathan said weakly.  She had to know there was no saving her.  Tommy must have been the one to do it.  No wonder Jane had been so brutal.  “I don’t think….”

“It’s… it’s…” The girl tried to get some words out.

“Hey,” Jonathan said gently, kneeling down beside her.  She was around his age.  He didn’t even really recognize her.  How many of the tributes were just faceless, nameless, figures in his mind?  “You’re gonna be okay–”

She let out a breathless, bitter, laugh.  “I… tried.  She… has to–”

“I know,” Jonathan said quietly.  “I’m gonna make sure she gets home.  Thank you… for looking after her.”

“Kali,” Jane said desperately.  “Jonathan can help.”

He couldn’t.  

“Look at his splint.  He’s good at this,” she said, eyes tearing.  She couldn’t really think he could be much help.

Jonathan frowned.  “This is beyond my skill set, squirt.  I have a numbing agent… for the pain.”

“Doesn’t… hurt….” Her voice trailed off.  Jonathan could see her fading.  He recognized it from Heather.  “She… shouldn’t… see.”

“I am not going anywhere,” Jane said firmly, sitting down and gripping her hand.  

Jonathan nodded, rubbing Jane’s back soothingly.  He glanced around.  Hargrove couldn’t be too far away.  If they were the last four standing….  Besides, he and Freckles stuck together.  He would have been close by.

The cannon sounded as Kali’s grip on Jane’s hand went limp.  Jane let out a blood curdling scream.  Jonathan’s hand instinctively covered her mouth.  They couldn’t give away their location.  Hargrove didn’t need any help tracking them down.

She squirmed out of his grasp, throwing herself on Kali’s body in a mournful embrace.  Jonathan hated that his first thought was that they should take the axe.  He’d do better with that than the bow and arrow.  He was a lousy shot.  He’d acquired Heather’s knife, but an axe could do more damage.  Hargrove had to have a small arsenal.

“Jane,” he said weakly.  “I’m sorry, but… we have to go.”

She sniffled, wiping her face.  Her hands brushed over Kali’s face as she gently shut her eyes.  “I don’t have any rocks,” she said, voice cracking.  

It was a tradition on Four.  When someone passed, you’d leave a rock by their family’s door.  It was symbolic… giving the family a foundation to lean on while their world was shaken.  Jonathan didn’t have one either.  He glanced around, eyes falling on a few pebbles off to their left.  “There are small ones.  It’s the thought that counts.”

That was good enough for Jane.  She grabbed two pebbles, one for her and one for Jonathan.  They placed them at the foot of the tree.  He wanted to let her grieve, but they really couldn’t afford to stick around.

“I’m sorry,” he said honestly.  She deserved to feel this, it just wasn’t an option.  “Jane… we really have to get out of here.  Hargrove can be anywhere.”

She let out a harsh sob as she buried her face into Jonathan’s chest.  He rubbed her back with his free hand.  He was just glad he got to hold her one last time.  It was lucky that they got to have that. 

“Come on,” he said as he ushered her through the woods.  There wasn’t exactly a plan.  He couldn’t climb, and this was his first time in this section of the arena, so he was leading them blindly.

Jane picked up on this, taking the lead.  She steered him towards a cave.  There were some blankets and a backpack there.  This must have been where she and Kali were hiding out.  “Are you hungry?” She asked.  “I have some apples in my bag.”

He shook his head.  “Keep it.  I had some fish last night.”  His backpack dropped to the floor of the cave with the bow and quiver.  “I have some water in the bag… two bottles.  Well, one and a half– I drank some.  Help yourself.  Also the bow… arrows.  I don’t need them.  The arrows were useful but I have a little dagger now.  Anything you want is yours.  Oh.  I have these gloves… it’ll make it easier for you to climb and–”

“What happened to your arm?” She asked.  

His eyes fell on her forehead.  There was a deep cut.  It wasn’t bleeding anymore, but it hurt to look at.  “What happened to your head?”

“Girl from Two.  The coward ran away before I could fight back,” she said.

Heather.

He should have felt better about it… knowing that she tried to kill Jane.  It didn’t change anything.  The guilt was still there.

“My story is boring,” he said.  “Almost got crushed by some rocks.  I made it out, but my wrist got messed up.”

She gave him a small smile, pulling him into a bone crushing hug.  “I didn’t think I would see you again.”

“I tried to find you,” he said, his vision blurry with tears.  “At the cornucopia.  I couldn’t see you.  I looked.  I… I tried to get to you.”

She nodded.  “I tried to find you too.”

“Here,” he said, fishing out the extra water bottle.  “Just hold onto it even if you don’t need it.”

“Thank you,” she said, taking it from him.  She uncapped the bottle, taking a few sips.  “The only water over here is salt.  We stole some from the Careers but it wasn’t a lot.”

“When you get home, you’ll have all the water you want,” he said, leaning back against the cave.  

She shook her head.  “You need to go home.  Will and Mom need you–”

“They need you ,” he corrected gently.  “This is my job.  I saved Will.  I’m gonna save you too if it’s the last thing I do.”

Jane didn’t argue.  Instead she scooted next to him, tucking herself under his arm.  “Thank you.”

He squeezed her tight, nodding.  “I got you.”

Notes:

Thanks to Anne for betaing! Fiind me on Tumblr!

Chapter 5: Political Warfare

Notes:

Please look at Jo-Harrington's page to see all their amazing edits for this fic

“Holy shit,” Robin hissed.  “That little one is lethal.”

Steve nodded dumbly as he watched Jane take down a tribute far older and bigger than her.  She was brutal.  It was no wonder how she scored an Eleven.  It was hardly her first kill, but there was something truly animalistic about the way she hunted Hagan down.  That’s what it was… hunting.  Once he’d struck the girl from Eight, she made it clear he wasn’t getting away.

“Your boy’s hanging in there,” she noted, watching him closely.  She knew.  Robin was probably the only person he’d ever told about Jonathan.  It was an accident really.  She’d won the games between him and Nancy… one of two surviving victors from Three.  It was around when Brenner started sending him out to… mingle.  He’d gotten drunk, she’d been coping with her own trauma… they wound up talking about a ton of stuff they wouldn’t have otherwise.  She was a friend for life after that.

He frowned.  “He’s just trying to secure the win for her.”

She gave him a sympathetic look.  “The good thing about having two tributes still alive so late in the game is that your other obligations are fewer.”

Steve shrugged, scratching the back of his head.  “I don’t know.  I think I’d take that over watching this right now.”  It was a sad truth.  Jonathan was suffering.  Jane was racking up a body count, but the fact that she was able to do so was troubling.  He knew Jonathan said she was a survivor but this was like nothing he’d ever seen.  

Seeing Hargrove from Two be so brutal was one thing.  He was eighteen– and on the older side of it.  Apparently, he was a month off from aging out.  Besides, Two trained the peacekeepers; it wasn’t unusual for them to have some sort of combat training that gave them a leg up in the games.  Jane was a kid.  The barbarity she’d displayed was nothing short of chilling.

“That’s grim,” she muttered.  “Your chances are good.  If one of your tributes wins, maybe that’ll give you more of a break.  The interviews will keep you busier.”

“It actually made it worse when Nancy won,” he said flatly.  “My face was around so people thought about me more.  It made me seem sympathetic as the oh-so helpful mentor.  Apparently that raised the appeal.”

She instinctively placed a hand on the small of his back, rubbing it soothingly.  “I’m sorry.”

Robin didn’t have to deal with this part of winning.  They wanted her for her technological skills.  If they sold her, it could mess with her mental state too much and who knew what that would do to the quality of her work?  So they tortured her in other ways.  Threatening the life of the girl she was in love with back in Three.  She’d been injured fairly in her games, so she had prosthetics – a few fake fingers, prosthetic foot, eye.  There was always the looming threat that they could alter them, making her life more difficult.  They didn’t need to sell her to control her.

“I’m used to it,” he said honestly.  So long as his… companions weren’t too intense, he was able to just go through the motions.  That wasn’t to say it was all sunshine and rainbows– some of his frequent callers were into stuff that kept him up at night, but he was prepared for them.  The ones that really unnerved him were the ones he’d see once or twice.  He couldn’t prepare himself and he didn’t know what version of him they’d made up in their minds.  There was always a good chance he’d fuck it up somehow and then Brenner would be merciless – booking Steve’s calendar with the worst of the worst.

She winced as Nancy came over, sitting down.  “I hate this,” she mumbled.  “They’re two of three left.  What happens if Hargrove dies?”

Oh Nancy, always focused on strategy.  

“Not a bad problem to have,” Robin noted.  “At least one of yours will have won.”

“And then Jane has to watch her brother die… watch him take his life to send her home,” Nancy said, eyes knitted close together as she scrunched her face.  

“He was probably hoping Hargrove would be out of the way by now,” Steve said, casting a look over at Carver.  Jason was pacing, looking down at the pad in his hands.  Cunningham and Sullivan were huddled around him.  Nancy wasn’t the only one thinking about strategy.  “He won’t leave her to fight him alone.”

Nancy rubbed her forehead, motioning to Hopper.  He was in deep conversation with some of the other Victors and sponsors.  He’d been oddly tuned in this year.  Steve was usually the one who did the heavy lifting with sponsors.  His body did most of the work, but Hopper was… charming and charismatic .  He’d made plenty of connections over the years, but this was the first time Steve had seen him use them.   

“He’s trying to see if he can get them enough resources for a proper weapon… like he did with you,” she muttered.

Steve was tempted to point out that Hopper didn’t need to do anything to get Steve sponsors.  His looks and charm did that.  The sponsor that sent him a bat with nails hammered into it got a week of Steve in his bed as recognition.  It was hardly a result of Hopper’s networking abilities.

“It’s late in the games,” he said.  “Most people have spent the bulk of their allotted cash already.  Who knows.  Maybe he’ll have luck.”

“How are you hanging in, Nance?” Robin asked.  “I saw Lowe had you cornered for a little while.”

She rolled her eyes.  “He’s such an ass.”

“Hey, at least the aloof thing works for your brand,” she said.  “Fashion icon, above all this….”

“I guess,” she said flatly.  “Doesn’t mean I can break Bruce’s hand without Brenner finding some way to take it out on me.”

Robin’s eyes fell back on the screen.  “If she wins, she’s going to have a hard time.”

“We all have a hard time,” Nancy said harshly.  He knew she didn’t mean for it to come out so sharp.  It was just a fact.

“I know but… she’s so young.  Pretty for a kid– if she stays pretty… well, I don’t have to tell you what that means.  Besides, knowing her brother has to die for her to live… you’re going to have your hands full long after the arena,” she said.  “The one mercy with my kids passing so soon this year is that it was quick.  They hardly even saw it coming.  I think this part is worse.  Living it was worse.”

Nancy hummed.  “Going home was the worst of it for me.”

No one said anything.  Nancy had no one to come home to.  Brenner made sure of that.  She showed them up, and he wasn’t going to let that slide.  

“Coming back was the worst for me,” he mumbled.  It was true.  When his victory tour ended in the Capitol it was where everything else started.  He shuddered as he thought back to that time.  Dying in the arena would have been easier.

The pressure Robin was applying to his back increased slightly.  It was like she was trying to remind him she was there, soothing him.  She didn’t say it, but he knew the worst for her was the work they had her doing.  Making the Capitol stronger… making them technology that would be used to torture others– having to see her inventions used maliciously… that was guilt that stuck with her.  Dreams were the worst for her.

Steve glanced up at the larger than life screen.  Jonathan’s tremors were nonstop.  Jane was doing her best to comfort him, but his boy was suffering.  Jonathan didn’t even like fishing… when they were kids he wept over Lonnie boiling crab.  Now he’d killed someone.  He’d have to help kill another person to bring Jane home.  It was a miracle he was still fighting.  He wished he could switch places with him– take Jonathan away from this.  His guy’s last few days on this planet were being spent terrified, filled with guilt, and worry for his sister.  No one deserved that, least of all Jonathan Byers.

Seemingly, that was a sentiment other people agreed with.  Jonathan and Jane’s sponsorships seemed to be stemming from more than just their impressive skills in the arena.  Everyone he spoke with had something to say about the “poor siblings” who were going to have to watch their brother or sister die.  Still, they were happy enough to watch.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Lucy’s father.  He was chatting with Brenner and a few others.  They seemed to be laughing at something he said.  Steve diverted his eye before they could make eye contact.  He’d only met Lucy’s father once or twice.  He didn’t seem to care much about the victors, he was happy with the ordinary luxuries the Capitol provided.  He only bothered with Steve because of Lucy’s infatuation.  He’d probably have one last appointment with her after the games.  How would he be able to perform after watching Jonathan lose his life?  Would this be the thing that finally got him on Brenner’s shit list?

Nancy nudged him.  “See a friend?”

He shook his head.  No.  Fortunately, his admirers had kept their distance.  It was probably since Brenner was seemingly preoccupied with the games.  It was hardly the year anyone was expecting – Steve included.  He imagined the optics of this little girl being a brutal killing machine wasn’t something anyone was too comfortable seeing.

“Good,” she said, eyes scanning the crowd.  

Steve’s eyes were back on the screen.  It’d been a week.  The game makers had fucked with the sun’s rising and setting.  The tributes probably felt as though it was only a few days.  Jonathan was last in his arms seven days ago.  Would that be how Steve measured the rest of his own life… in the number of days passed since he last held Jonathan?

“Fuck,” Nancy hissed, eyes narrowing.  “Brenner’s coming this way.”

Steve tore his eyes away from Jonathan.  Robin fidgeted beside him, still refusing to move away from him.  He didn’t think he would have survived all this time in the Capitol without her by his side.

Robin and Steve stood up as Brenner reached them.  Nancy stayed seated, downing her cocktail in a single gulp. She wiped her mouth with her middle finger, glaring at Brenner.  Well, no one could say she wasn’t ballsy.

Brenner pretended not to notice it.  “Robin, Steven, Miss Wheeler,” he said, voice eerily soft for someone as heinous as him.  “Are you enjoying the games? Quite an interesting one this year.  Exciting for Four.  Two of three remaining tributes.”

“It’s definitely unique,” Robin said uncomfortably.

“We were a little uneasy when Owens retired last year, but the new game makers are rising to the occasion,” he said.

Steve gave a lame excuse of a smile, nodding along.  He hoped that would be enough to sate Brenner.  It wasn’t.

“What are your thoughts, Steven?  You’re quite familiar with the male tribute, aren’t you?” He asked.

Steve shrugged, doing his best to seem nonchalant about the fact that Brenner was referencing his night with Jon.  “No more familiar than I am with most fans.  He’s doing well enough.  It’d be nice to come back to Four with another victor.”

Brenner hummed, unwavering.  Steve was pretty sure he didn’t believe him.  “That little one is a firecracker.  Almost reminiscent of a young Nancy Wheeler.”

Nancy scoffed as she stood up.  “I don’t think we’re comparable.  I’m going to get another cocktail.”

Brenner gave an amused, condescending chuckle as she walked off.  “Always the character.”

Steve winced, trying to look apologetic.  “Things are tense towards the end.  No one knows what to expect.  I heard the young game maker– Alexei, has a lot up his sleeve.  The… longer days were….”  His voice trailed off, and he just hoped that it came off as being impressed rather than horrified.  “Hats off to him.”

Brenner smiled thinly, it didn’t meet his eyes.  “I believe Robin played a large part in making that happen.  The sunlamps are her design.”

“It was a group effort,” she said, fidgeting in place.

“No need for modesty,” he said.  “You’ve really outdone yourself.  Alexei spoke very highly of your work.”

She pursed her lips looking down with a nod.  “I’ll be sure to thank him for his… generosity.”

Brenner gently clapped his hands together.  “Well, I should be off.  We’re getting ready for our grand finale, and I need to make sure this all goes off without a hitch.  Enjoy the show.”

Steve felt nauseated.  He wasn’t sure what that could have possibly meant.  Usually something big was planned for the end– mostly as a way to force the tributes together.  They liked for it to end with one tribute killing another, but sometimes they’d let a disaster take care of it.  One year there was a volcanic eruption, the one tribute that wasn’t burned to death won – but they lost all their limbs in the process.  

“Don’t let us keep you,” Robin said.  “I’m sure you must have a full schedule.”

Steve scratched the side of his head.  “Yeah.  I can’t imagine what it must be like to coordinate something like this.”  He couldn’t imagine how anyone with a soul could organize this… nevermind advertise it and keep it a cultural phenomenon.

Brenner let out a hollow chuckle and walked away without another word.  Steve’s stomach dropped as he let Brenner’s words sink in.  Brenner certainly implied this wouldn’t be good for Jonathan and Jane.  At least, he thought that was what he was implying.  It wasn’t fair.  Steve had been good.   He’d done everything he was supposed to do.  He spread his legs, he played the part, he never even argued.  Still, Brenner was doing everything in his power to torture him.

“He doesn’t care who wins,” Robin assured him – already sensing his fear.  “It’d be stupid to let Jonathan die.  If Jane doesn’t win, he’ll guarantee it’s him.  Brenner wants that leverage.”

Steve shook his head.  “He doesn’t need leverage.  He already has everything .  I’ve been the obedient, well behaved little puppet.  What more could Jonathan possibly offer him?”

She frowned.  “An insurance policy.  You’ve been good, but this would guarantee that doesn’t change.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, as he plopped back down in his seat.  “Jonathan’s not coming out of the arena.  Either Jane wins, or it’s Hargrove.  If Jonathan watches his sister die… that’ll break him.  I don’t think he’d be able to fight anymore.  I could be wrong… I want to be wrong, but he’s barely hanging in as it is.  He’s not coming out of this alive.”  Saying the words felt like shards of glass on his tongue, but it was true.  He knew Jonathan, and after seeing his performance… what kind of state would his boy be in if he made it out?

Robin opened her mouth to say something, when he heard someone clear their throat.  Steve looked to the side to see Jason Carver standing in front of him.  He gave a polite nod.  They weren’t exactly friends, but Carver’s situation was similar to his.  They had a different fanclub, but the activities were the same.  Carver had to spread his legs just as frequently as Steve did.  Besides, Jason won the year after Steve did– they came up together in a way.  As a result, there was a mutual respect… even if his tribute was trying to kill the love of Steve’s life.

Robin gave a polite smile as she walked away, giving them some space.

“Hey,” he said sheepishly.

Steve gave a tight smile.  “Hi.”

“Look… this is… Hargrove and that kid are both… barbaric,” he said after a moment.  “It might get gruesome.”

He blinked at him.  Yeah.  That was how this worked.  “Yeah, man.”

“I just mean… this wasn’t part of our strategy,” he said lamely.

Steve sighed.  “Look, this is how it goes.  We all did what we had to to survive.  Jane and Billy are doing the same.  You know what it’s like in the arena.  Kill or be killed.  It makes us all into something we’re not.”

Jason nodded.  “Except, I think this is exactly who Billy is.  He volunteered and… I don’t think it was about the glory.”

“Does the reason matter?  Jonathan volunteered, and he probably never imagined killing someone.  The reasons are irrelevant.  Twenty four go in, one comes out,” he said coolly.  “Didn’t you volunteer?”

“I was told to,” he said quietly.  “Billy wasn’t.  Some other guy was slated to volunteer.  Hargrove went rogue.”

“It still doesn’t matter, Carver,” Steve said, too exhausted to care about the semantics.  “He’s still just trying to survive like everyone else.  Whatever happens in the end… there’s no hard feelings.  There never are.”

He was being truthful.  Steve had done some terrible things in the arena.  The fact was, the arena was a warzone, and desperate measures had to be taken.  If Hargrove won… Steve would have done his best not to hold it against him.  It’d be hard to look the guy who killed Jonathan in the eye… even if Steve understood why he did it.

Jason frowned, rubbing his forehead.  “No… you’re not hearing me.  I don’t think he should win.”

Steve grimaced in confusion, his brow creasing.  “Wha… what are you saying?”

“You need to make sure one of your tributes comes out on top–”

“We can’t be talking like this,” Steve said, taking a few steps away from him.  He didn’t want to be involved.  Brenner was watching him but… “Talk to Nancy.  She’s the strategic one.”

Jason nodded, crossing his arms.  “Yeah.  Okay.  I’ll talk to Wheeler.  Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” he muttered.  “She might be strategic but she’s not the most trusting either.”

“Yeah….” Jason glanced around.  “This guy could just be a real problem for Two if he wins it–”

“Right, and a homicidal twelve year old is gonna do great work for Four,” he said before he could stop himself.

“There’s the boy,” Jason said quietly.  

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose.  “He’s not an option.  If his sister dies… she is the only reason he’s still hanging on.”

“You’re not giving him enough credit–”

“It’s the opposite,” Steve snapped.  “ You’re the one underestimating him.  You’re underestimating just how far Jonathan Byers will go to take care of his family.  He is going to make sure Jane gets home… or he’s going to die trying.”

He didn’t wait for Jason to respond, he walked off towards Robin.  Whatever Jason was doing, he wanted no part of it.  He had enough on his mind without adding Jason’s complex to the list.  

“You should put medicine on your arm,” Jane said, eyeing it suspiciously.  “It looks like it hurts.”

It did.  He didn’t think the numbing agent would do much good anymore.  It was raining.  The medicine would wash away almost the moment they stepped out of the cave.  Still, if it made her feel better about it, it was worth it to give her some peace of mind.

“Hand it to me?”  He asked.

She nodded, as she hurriedly pulled it out of the bag.  He’d applied it twice since they’d gotten to the cave.  It was only a matter of time before they were lured out to face Hargrove.  He didn’t even know much time had passed.  He was so elated to see Jane again, that he’d almost forgotten that they were in a life and death situation.  He couldn’t let his guard down… it could get Jane killed if he didn’t get it together.

Jane opened the canister and handed him a small cloth.  He wasn’t sure where she got that from, and he didn’t care.  He dipped the cloth in the jelly and applied it gently to his arm.  He winced as the pain coursed through him… again it faded as the jelly worked, numbing his arm.  

He released a shaky breath, leaning his head back against the cave wall.  “We should draw him out,” he said after a moment.  If he could get ahead of this, Jane might be able to get home by nightfall.

She shook her head.  “I’m not ready yet.”  Her voice was so quiet.  He felt his eyes brim as a lump was caught in his throat.  She wasn’t ready to watch him die yet.  

He sniffled as she rested her head on his shoulder.  Her breath was shallow, shaky… he could tell she was crying.  That was all it took for him to join her.  They stayed like that a while, huddled up together, weeping.  

“It’s not your fault,” he mumbled after a while.  “Please don’t blame yourself.  I chose this.  I’d do it all over again.  You just need to get home and give Mom and Will a big hug for me okay?”

“ No ,” she croaked harshly.  “I don’t want to go back without you.”

He shook his head, trying to catch his breath between sobs.  “You have to.  It’s not fair if I only save Will.  Can’t let you think I’m playing favorites.”

Her body wracked with tears as she moved even closer to him.  “Just… let me wait a little longer.  Please.”

He trembled, nodding.  “We can wait as long as you want.”  Well, as long as the game makers let them.  There was this sinking feeling in his gut that it was coming sooner than later.  They’d be forced out of their safe cave to face Billy or survive some other horrific display.

“Have you been by yourself the whole time?” She asked.  “Did you have any allies?”

“Just you,” he said honestly.  “All I was trying to do was get back to you, squirt.”

“You found me,” she said with a broken sob.

He nodded, sniffling as he let out a short cry.  “I did.”

They stayed like that for a while. Jonathan wasn’t sure how long it was, but he could practically hear the ticking clock. This wouldn’t be considered interesting television for long. The gamemakers must have been planning something. There was nothing they hated more than an anticlimactic finale. 

The temperature began to rise and beads of sweat formed on his forehead and Jane’s face began to flush. This wasn’t due to the infection, though he was certainly feeling feverish. It was subtle at first, and he slowly realized they were being treated like one of the crabs, slowly raising the heat until they didn’t even know they were boiling. 

Then he saw it. A flicker. It was almost like a spark from the depths of the cave. Maybe it was in his head with the fever. Then he heard a crackle. That got Jane’s attention. She sat up right, peering into the darker part of the cave. 

“I think it’s—” She didn’t get to finish her thought. 

It took a split second for him to realize what was happening.  Jonathan bolted up, grabbing her with his good hand. He dragged her from the cave as fire chased them, the heat rising exponentially. Jonathan faltered as they escaped the flames narrowly, entering the forest. The woods weren’t any less treacherous. Fire engulfed trees and the shrubbery. They were surrounded by it.  Was this it? Would fire be how he finally met his demise?  The heat was suffocating as his eyes scanned the woods, looking for a way to safety.

Then he saw it, a clearing in the inferno. “Come on!” He yelled, using his bad arm to cover his mouth and his good one led Jane to the opening. 

“Stop!” Jane ordered just in time as a branch that was set ablaze fell in front of them. 

They ran around it, the smoke made things difficult to see but finally he was able to lead them through the break in the flames. There were two walls of fire on either side, providing a path forward. It was clear, the gamemakers were leading them somewhere, and Jonathan wasn’t looking forward to what awaited them at the end of this trail. 

There wasn’t time to dwell on it. Branches were falling around them, other debris blocking their path caused them to go around or over the flaming obstacles. The smell of singed hair and skin was impossible to ignore. While neither of them was ablaze, it was impossible to get through unscathed. The adrenaline was their saving grace, not allowing the pain to process. 

They finally made it to a spot free of fire. The cornucopia. They coughed as the clear air cleansed their lungs. Jonathan blinked, trying to get his bearings when he saw him from the corner of his eye. Hargrove was charging right at them. It was a terrifying sight. He had a sword in his hand, his left ear was missing, blood flowing from a deep slash on his cheek. 

He glanced around looking for a way out, but fire was surrounding them.  The gamemakers were ensuring that they couldn’t run away from this fight.  Fuck it.  If he was going to die, maybe he could take Hargrove with him, or do some damage at the very least.

Jonathan gripped the dagger in his hand, he glanced over to Jane, prepared to beckon her behind him. She had other plans. Jane was charging at him, a sickled weapon in her hand that he hadn’t seen before.  Jonathan thought he might have a coronary attack watching his sister pursue this killing machine. 

He let out a distressed cry.  “Jane!” 

If she heard him, she was doing an excellent job ignoring him.  Hargrove swung his word, and Jane dodged it easily.  Jonathan sprinted towards them, desperately trying to get there before something happened to Jane.

Jane, however, did not seem to be half as worried about her own well being as Jonathan was.  She sliced at him, drawing blood.  She was quick, skillfully maneuvering and avoiding Billy’s sword. 

Jonathan couldn’t get there fast enough, limping a bit as he raced over to them.  His leg must have gotten burned.  He hadn’t noticed it until he started running.  It felt like a nightmare, running down a hall that never ended.  Except this wasn’t a dream.  Jane needed his help and he couldn’t get to her.

Jane slashed at Billy’s legs, and he stumbled forward slightly.  She took the opportunity to jump on his back, jabbing her weapon at him.  It looked like she was about to go for the jugular when Billy harshly threw her off of him, sending her across the clearing.  

She was on the ground, unmoving.  The cannon didn’t go off.  She was still breathing.  Billy stalked over to her, raising his sword.  Jonathan finally reached them, he swiped his knife along Hargrove’s back, getting his attention.  All thoughts of Jane were gone as he turned to look at Jonathan.  His eyes fell on Jonathan’s bad arm, and he grinned darkly.  Billy traced his teeth with his tongue, laughing wildly.

Jonathan moved swiftly, slashing Billy’s wrist that held the sword.  He hissed, dropping it, but not before stabbing his bad arm.  He cried out, slashing the knife through the air clumsily.  That was all Billy needed.  He punched him in the throat, and Jonathan fumbled the dagger.  This was it.  This was how he was going to die.

Hargrove headbutted him, knocking him to the ground.  The dagger was just out of reach, Jonathan stretched his arm out, trying to grab it.  Hargrove laughed again, kneeling over him.  One knee was on his good arm, keeping him from getting the dagger.  Billy picked it up, pressing the blade against Jonathan’s throat.  

No.  He was going to die without doing enough damage to save Jane.  Hargrove was going to win… all of this was going to be for nothing.  He failed.  He couldn’t protect Jane.

Hargrove was grinning as he loomed over him.  “I’ve been looking forward to this.  I gotta admit, you had me going there for a little while, Four.  When you killed Heather…  wow.  Didn’t think you had it in you, skinny little thing who can barely hold a bow.  But here we are, Four.  Don’t worry.  I’ll make sure your sister gets to see your mangled body before I kill her.  I want you to know… it’ll be slow, she’ll be begging to die by the time I’m done with the little bitch.  Gotta repay her for the ear.”

Jonathan struggled against him, trying to free himself.  Billy pressed the dagger deeper against his throat, clicking his tongue at him.  “You’re not going anywhere, sweetheart.  I hope your stupid brother’s watching.  I’m gonna gut you like a fish.  Fitting, right, little jellyfish?  Where are your stingers now, huh, Four?”

Billy ran the dagger down Jonathan’s ribs.  Deep enough to sting, but not enough for him to bleed out.  He was making good on his promise.  He wanted them to suffer.  Jonathan recoiled, desperately trying to get out of Hargrove’s grasp.  

He kept laughing, stomping on his bad arm.  “Flopping around like a fish out of water.  You really are nothing but a weak little guppy.”

Jonathan let out a harsh cry.  He was seeing stars. The pain was blinding.  “Please,” he muttered.  He wasn’t sure what he was asking for.  For Billy to take mercy on him… for Billy to kill him?  Either?  Both?  Killing him would have been a form of mercy.  He would have welcomed it.

Billy mocked him.  “ ‘Please,’ your last minutes are going to be spent begging for mercy that you’re never getting, guppy.”  He slashed the knife across Jonathan’s cheek, deeper this time, squeezing his face as he carved.  

Jonathan was trembling.  He couldn’t help it.  Maybe it was the pain or the despair of not being able to save Jane– maybe it was even the fear of dying.  Either way, he couldn’t stop the shaking.  It only egged Billy on, mimicking him, jeering at him.  Jonathan wasn’t even fighting anymore, just begging.  He wanted it to be over.  He couldn’t take it any longer.

At last Billy raised the dagger above his head, finally going for the kill.  He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t see.  Something was pouring over him.  Was this what dying felt like?  He was choking, and a heavy weight dropped down onto him.  He was gasping for air, trying to move out from underneath the weight.  He was pinned down, unable to get free.  All he could see was red.  

Was this hell?

“Jonathan,” a voice said.  No.  Not just any voice.  Jane’s.  No.  She was in purgatory with him.  Hargrove had won.  She wasn’t going to go home.

“Jonathan!” Her voice was harsher this time.  “You need to move.”

He blinked, the red subsiding.  He… he was still in the arena.  He glanced to the side of his head when he saw him.  Hargrove was the dead weight on top of him.  His throat unceremoniously slashed, the cut jagged and grotesque.  

It hit him like a truck.  Jonathan had been drowning in Hargrove’s blood.  The scream that left him was nothing short of absolute horror.  He scrambled back, desperately trying to get free of Hargrove’s corpse.  

Hargrove was too heavy, it took far too long for Jonathan to get out from under Billy’s body.  He wept and gagged as he tasted the iron from Billy’s blood– still thick on his tongue.  His stomach churned, and it wasn’t long before he was vomiting on the grass beside him.  He was disgusting, covered in blood – both his own and Billy’s, weeping, puking… this was going to be his family’s last image of him– Steve’s last image of him.

Jane walked over to him, dropping her bag down.  “Jonathan,” she said again.

He was sobbing, but he saw it.  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the little container of poison darts roll out of her sack, one of them slipping out onto the bloodied grass beside them.  He grabbed it, moving to jab it into his throat, it’d all be over and Jane could go home.

“No!” She shrieked, startling him.  She grabbed a dart too, hovering it above her own throat.  “If you die, we both die.”

He shook his head.  “No! Please !  Jane!  Please !”  He wasn’t even sure what he was begging for– for her to live, for her to just let him die– let him be free of this place.

“You will not die so I can live,” she said sharply, unmoving.  

Maybe she was bluffing.  He moved, and she did too, threatening to plunge the dart into her neck at the same time he did.  They stayed like that for a while.

“Jane, no.  You have to go home,” he said between sobs.  “Please.  Go home.  See Mom and Will.  I promised I’d take care of you.  Just let me do this.”

“I am not going back without you,” she said firmly.

Jonathan moved to prick himself again, and just like the last time he moved, Jane mirrored him.  “We’ll do it together.”

“Jane–”

“They want a winner… they can have two,” she said.

“Stop it,” he begged.

“On the count of three,” she continued as if he hadn’t said anything.

“Jane–”

“One.”

“Stop–”

“Two.”

“Hang on a second.”

“Three.”

His hand moved instinctively about to stick himself with the dart.

“Stop!” A voice called out just as they were millimeters away from jabbing themselves in their necks.  

It had to be one of the gamemakers.  Maybe they were coming to kill him themselves.  Good.  Let this end.  Let her go home.  “Given that the two remaining tributes are from the same district, there has been a rule change.  Two victors are permitted.”

What?  What did that mean? His hand was still, not daring to move.  There was a loud part of him that still wanted to plunge the dart into him– ending his life.  The only thing stopping him was the look on Jane’s face.  They both dropped their darts and waited.

She let out a relieved sob as she bent down next to him.  “We get to go home.”

He didn’t respond.  Jonathan didn’t understand.  He looked off to the side, Billy’s body was still there, lifeless eyes looking at him.  He threw up again.  The weeping returned, he was shaking uncontrollably, the pain was impossible to ignore.  Jane was saying something to him, but he couldn’t make heads or tails of it.  

His eyelids became heavy, and he felt her hands on his shoulders shaking him.  He was just too tired.  The pain was starting to fade, maybe he really was going to die after all.  Poor Mom and Will… they thought he was going to come home.  

He could still taste Hargrove’s blood.  His half lidded eyes found Jane.  He wanted her to be the last thing he saw.  This was for her.  He did it.  She won.  She was going to go home.  It was worth it, knowing she wasn’t in it alone.

“Jonathan!” She snapped, smacking his shoulder harshly.  “Stay awake! You are not leaving me here.”

He nodded, trying to keep his eyes open.  He could do it for Jane.  He’d do whatever she and Will asked of him.  “‘ts cold,” he mumbled.

She shrugged off her jacket, wrapping it around him. “Warmer?”

“I don’t… know,” he said honestly.  “You… you’re okay?”

Her brow furrowed as she looked at him closely.  “ We are okay.”

Jonathan didn’t feel okay.  Actually, he didn’t feel much of anything.  “Mom?”  Where was she?  He just wanted his mom.  Maybe she could make him some stew or chowder to warm him up, like when he was little. 

“We’re gonna see her soon,” Jane said.  Right they were in the arena.  Mom wasn’t here.  

“I’m cold,” he said.

“I know,” she frowned.  “I lost the matches in the cave.  They’re coming to get us soon, just try to hang in there.”

“Steve?” He asked, was he in Steve’s room?  Where was he?  Did he leave him there all alone?

“You’ll see him too,” Jane said.

Right.  Jane.  Arena.

“And Nancy, and Hopper,” she continued.  “We’ll go home and see Mom and Will.”

“Will,” he muttered.  “He’s… he was reaped.  I have to… vol… volunteer.”

“Jonathan,” Jane said, her voice sounding worried.

He blinked.  Right.  They were in the arena.  They won.  “Where are they?  Isn’t… shouldn’t… doesn’t someone come get us?”

“They’re coming,” she said, glancing around frantically.  

“Wake me when they get here,” he said, unable to keep his eyes open.  

Another smack to his bad arm.  He whimpered as the pain returned with a vengeance.  It hurt so bad.

“I’m sorry.  I need you to stay up.”  Jane’s face looked apologetic.  “I think I hear them.”

He tried to stay awake, his head dropping momentarily before jerking himself back up.  He couldn’t do this for much longer.  The battle was being lost.  He couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore.  Just as he closed his eyes, he saw a heli-vehicle landing in the middle of the arena.

Notes:

Huge shout out to Anne, my amazing friend and beta reader! Also be sure to check out this really cool fanart that BunnyPeony put together outside of the event! Feel free to say hi on Tumblr!

Chapter 6: Victory Lap

Notes:

Please go see all the edits that the incredible Jo-Harrington's amazing artwork!

“You can’t see him right now, Steve,” Nancy said firmly.  

His nostrils flared as he shook his head, pacing back and forth.  “No.  No way!”

They were on the fourth floor.  Nancy and Hopper had been to see Jon and Jane, but he’d been kept away.  It was Hopper’s idea; they didn’t want Jonathan and him to have an affectionate reunion.  He understood, initially.  Now, it’d been a day, and they were still being cagey about Steve going to see him.

“She’s right,” Hopper said, more aggravated by Steve’s resistance than anything else.  “It’s best you hold off.  You can go see Jane if you want.  But not the boy.”

He scrunched up his face– a mix of confusion and frustration overtaking him.  “This doesn’t make any sense.  I should be able to go see him.”

Nancy opened her mouth to snap something in response, but they were interrupted by Barb walking in.  The air left the room, replaced by an uncomfortably thick tension buzzing through the atmosphere.

Barb did a double take, and cleared her throat.  “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“You didn’t,” Hopper said, his eyes boring into Steve.  He was hiding something.  This was the most intentional he’d been since… well, ever.

She hummed, glancing over at Steve.  “Lucinda Sapphiria has scheduled a meeting.”

Fuck.  Lucy.  Now?

“Can we reschedule?” He heard himself ask.  “We’re kind of busy with two victors.”

Barb winced.  “President Brenner insisted.  Her father is on the medical team–”

“Thank you, Barb,” Nancy said sharply.  “What time does he need to be there?”

“Within the next thirty minutes,” she said.

Nancy nodded.  “He’ll be there.”

“Hang on a second–” he snapped.

“Thank you, Barb,” Nancy said, a menacing calm to her tone.  It wasn’t up for discussion, Steve would be going, and Barb was dismissed.

Barb glanced between Nancy and Steve.  She must have correctly determined that Nancy had things well in hand.  She crept out the door and back into the hall.

“I am not going to see Lucy right now,” Steve said with a frustrated grunt.  “You’d really rather I go fuck this girl than see J–”

“Steve,” she said, her tone dropping.  “Her father is on the medical team.  I don’t think we want to be on his bad side while he’s tending to our victors, do you?  Besides, you shouldn’t see him yet anyway.”

He puffed out his chest in anger, breathing slowly out of his nose.  “I’m not going anywhere until I see him.”

“Listen to her, kid,” Hopper said.  “You won’t be able to do much for him anyway right now.  Go do your duty and come right back here.  There’s nothing you can do for him now anyway.”

“Will one of you please just tell me what the fuck is going on?” He asked desperately as he moved his hair back from his face.

“It’s not clear,” Nancy said, a troubled look overtaking her face.

“He’s fine,” Hopper said, shooting Nancy a disapproving look.  “He’s still recovering but he’s out of the woods.  Just go.  See the girl.  Nancy’s right.  You don’t want to piss anyone off… especially not someone on the care team.  This is serious.  You know the Capitol isn’t thrilled with the poison darts ruining their games.  We need to be on our best behavior, and do what we’re told.”

Steve sucked his teeth in frustration.  Hopper was right.  This wasn’t the time to be difficult about appointments.  “Fine.”

“You have to act like everything is normal,” Nancy warned.  “Better than normal.  Your tributes just won the Hunger Games.  It’s historic.  The new youngest victor and the only time there’s ever been two. You have to play this like everything is fantastic.”

He frowned.  How the fuck was he supposed to do that?  He was barely holding it together as it was, and now he was supposed to go perform for Lucy.  He wasn’t an actor.  Sure, he played the game well enough, but this was… a test.  Brenner was testing him.  He was ensuring that Steve would still be an obedient little puppet with Jonathan in distress and under duress.

“Tell him I’ll be there soon,” he mumbled.  

Nancy’s troubled look only worsened.  It was a wonder how she managed to keep a poker face in the games.  Well, in fairness for her, it was half strategy and half instinct.  She was smart enough to keep her strengths close to the chest, and score low, but even she didn’t know how fearsome she’d become in the arena.

“What aren’t you telling me?” He asked, putting his hands on his hips.

She shook her head.  “We’ll talk later… just… go see Lucy.”

That didn’t help ease his nerves, but maybe it was better this way.  If something was wrong, and he knew about it… there was no way he’d be able to plaster on a smile and go see Lucy.  “The second I get back, you’re telling me what’s going on.”

“Okay,” Hopper said firmly.  Steve believed him.  He wasn’t sure why, but he did.  

He retreated to his bedroom to get changed.  At least it was just Lucy.  She never expected much from him– always just thrilled that he was there.  He just– there was no way she wasn’t going to talk about the games.  She’d mean well, she’d say she felt awful seeing Jonathan so distraught, and Jane so desperate to bring them both home.  But then she’d go to bed.  And maybe – not the next morning, and probably not the next week, but eventually she’d wake up and forget about it.  She’d continue about her wonderful life in the Capitol and it will all have been a blip.  Meanwhile, this was Steve’s guy.  The only one who ever mattered, in a medical center and no one was telling him what was going on.  How was he supposed to listen to her– to comfort her through this, while he was dying inside?

Steve settled on wearing something a bit more modest.  It was a v-neck shirt, a bit of chest hair visible, and a pair of linen pants.  It was understated, but he learned Lucy liked that best.  She liked to feel that he was comfortable with her.  In her world, she was the only one Steve could be himself with.  She was the only one who knew the “Real Steve.” It would break her heart if she knew that this was just another costume for him to wear.

He stepped out into the room, throwing on a pair of sunglasses.  “Showtime,” he mumbled to Nancy and Jim as he released a heavy sigh.  He walked into the elevator, letting it take him down to the first floor.  Just a little longer.  They’d let him see Jon… he’d be coming home with him.  

That opened up its own issues.  He’d have to tell him everything.  How would Jonathan react to that?  Steve didn’t even know how to feel about it, and it was his life.  Hopefully, he’d see it for what it was, a way to protect Jonathan and everyone else Steve loved.  Still, there was no easy way to realize the person you’re in love with is nothing more than a common whore.  After everything… there was a good chance he’d want nothing to do with Steve.  Things were already complicated before Jon went into the games now… Steve knew how the arena could mess with a person’s brain.  

He was in the car on his way to Lucy’s before he knew it.  The peacekeeper kept eyeing him in the rearview mirror.  She didn’t say anything to him, just watched him carefully.  He was glad.  Making small talk to peacekeepers wasn’t his idea of a good time.  Most of them hated him because they thought he was some spoiled victor looking down on them.  There was no way to play to an audience that already decided they hated you.

The car pulled up to Lucy’s townhouse.  Calling it that was almost comical.  It was larger than most of the houses back on Four, yet here in the Capitol, it was merely a modest town house.  He took a deep breath as he got out of the car.  Usually, Lucy was a welcome break… a small oasis from his other companions.  That day, it felt like the worst of the worst.

He raised his fist to knock on her door and it opened before his knuckles met the wood.  Her wide orange eyes fell on him.  A bright smile appeared on her face as she gripped his hand and tugged him inside.  She hugged him quickly before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Congratulations,” she said, her orange eyes were always a little… vacant, like she wasn’t all there.  This was the most alive he’d ever seen them, sparkling in the light as she took him in.

He blinked, glancing around the room.  She… decorated.  There were over the top holographic banners and an ice sculpture of… Jonathan and Jane.  She had gold and diamond encrusted streamers dangling from the ceiling.  Lights were sparkling all over the room and he felt… nauseous.

“You… what?” He didn’t know what else to say.

“Surprise,” she said, almost giddy.  “You should be so proud.”

He was speechless.  Hopefully she interpreted it as appreciative and not the actual revulsion he felt.  “You… really shouldn’t have.”

“You’re too modest,” she said, looking at him with adoring disapproval.  “Your two tributes won for the first time ever!  And Jane’s even younger than you were.  They were so lucky to have you.”

He shook his head, laughing awkwardly.  “I don’t know about that.  There were three of us helping and… no one knew Jane and Jonathan would be so… skilled.”

She giggled, infatuation slipping out through her laugh.  “Well, I’ll be proud enough of you for the both of us.”

“Thanks,” he said sheepishly.

Her face fell and the sparkle from her eyes vanished as quickly as it had appeared.  “What’s wrong?  Do you… do you not like it?  It’s too much isn’t it?  Oh no.  I’m so stupid!  Why did I think–”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Steve said in a hushed tone, like he was trying to soothe a spooked colt.  “No.  This… this is great.  Really.  It’s so thoughtful.  I just… I hate that this means I’m leaving soon.  It’ll be another… what?  Six months?  Maybe even more than that, until I’m back.  I just hoped this would be about us and not the games.”

That seemed to calm her.  Thank god he managed to convince her.  Her smile was replastered, but her eyes weren’t as bright.  “I didn’t think about that.  It’ll be sooner though– you’ll have to come back for the victory tour.”

He shrugged.  “Not soon enough.”

“I’ll call,” she said.  He believed her.  She did call from time to time.  It was mostly just to give him miniscule updates about her life.  She was honestly one of the only people he spoke with once he was back home.  Her and Robin.  

Steve sighed, putting an arm around her shoulders as he led her into the living area.  “It’s not the same though.”

She frowned as they sat on her couch, leaning against him.  “Daddy said he’s helping the victors with their injuries.  They’re in good hands.  He’s an excellent surgeon.”

Steve was very familiar with Dr. Sapphiria’s work.  He was the one responsible for Steve’s own “enhancements.”  “That’s a relief,” he said after a pause.  

“I’m glad I sponsored them.  I was so worried,” she said.

“Let’s not talk about the games,” Steve said, turning to look in her eyes.  “I just want to enjoy our last day together.”

She beamed at him, nodding.  She bolted up from the couch, spinning a bit, the skirt of her dress swaying with her.  “Do you like the dress?  I bought it special for today.”

He didn’t give a shit about her dress.  “You look good in everything,” he said, wetting his lips theatrically.  “It looks stunning, Luce.  God, I’m so lucky.”

A girlish laugh bubbled out of her as her face flushed.  She floated over to him, taking his hand.  “Come on, let me show you my new trinkets.  I didn’t get to show you how much I’ve added to my collection since you were here last year.”

Relief broke over him.  Okay.  He could do that.  “Lead the way, Lucy Goose.”

All in all, it was fine.  He looked at her trinkets, cuddled her a bit, and then he was being sent on his way.  She didn’t even want him in her bed.  She just wanted to make the most of their time together.  Aside from the display when he first came in, they hardly even talked about the games.

Time passed quicker than he’d thought it would, and it was time for him to get back before he knew it.  He gave her a sweet kiss goodbye before he headed back into his car to be brought to the tower.  The drive to the tower felt like it took forever.  He just wanted to get back and find out what the fuck was going on with Jonathan.

When the car pulled up, he ran out before it was even in park.  There were members of the press there along with adoring fans.  He pushed past them, not even bothering to make a veiled excuse for why he couldn’t stop and greet the crowd.  He’d used up all his energy placating Lucy that he couldn’t be worried with the others.  He got inside and made a beeline to the elevator.

The button clicked as he incessantly pressed it, willing it to take him to the fourth floor.  This was eating him up inside.  He couldn’t take much more of this.  The elevator began to move.  His eyes were glued to the little screen on top of the elevator, the floor numbers flashing.  It was moving too fucking slowly.  He was crawling out of his skin.  When he finally got to the Fourth floor, he sprang into the living quarters the moment the doors opened a crack, squeezing through the small opening.

Nancy was pacing, chewing her lip.  Her hand was resting against her chin, index finger resting against her mouth.  Her head snapped over to him, her face falling.  “How was it?”

“What the fuck is wrong with Jonathan?”

Her eyes fluttered closed as she took a breath.  “The thing is….” Her voice trailed off.

“Nancy,” he snapped.  “Fucking spit it out!”

“Hey,” Hopper barked.  “Don’t do that.  Don’t take this shit out on her.  She’s the one trying to keep everything together–”

Steve let out a harsh laugh in disbelief.  “I can’t help because no one will tell me what the fuck is going on.”

“Yeah, because of this,” Hopper said, motioning to Steve.  “You have got to keep your shit together.  All you’re doing is making him more and more valuable to the Capitol.  He’s a pawn… you’re showing just how important he is to you, and they do not need more ammunition, kid.  He’s important enough to Jane– because we all know that Brenner is currently hard at work figuring out how she’s going to fit into his chess board, and making him important to you too… you’re making this too easy for them.”

He brought his hands to his head, and groaned.  “Trust me to do my damn job.  Keeping me in the dark is only going to make this worse.”

“You can’t see him yet because we don’t know what he’ll do,” Nancy said, voice cutting through the argument.  

He blinked at her.  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” she said patiently, “that he’s not well.”

His hands made a home on his hips as he raised his brow in bewilderment.  “They can just patch him up– replace the arm–”

“That’s not what she’s talking about,” Hopper said solemnly.

He looked between them, hoping for some clarity.

Nancy rubbed her forehead.  “Okay.  Let’s all sit down.”

“I don’t want to sit–”

“Sit down,” Hopper commanded, crossing his arms tightly.  

Steve’s nostrils flared but he didn’t argue, sitting down on the couch alongside Nancy.  He tapped his foot impatiently.  

“Physically… they replaced his arm.  It couldn’t be helped.  They had to give him some blood and they patched up his face and rib cage, but he’s going to make a full recovery,” she said.

What the fuck were they making such a big deal about?  “That’s good.  The thing about the arm sucks but… it happens.”

Nancy looked down, frowning.  “But,” she continued.  “He’s… not well.  He won’t talk.  When we go in… it’s like he’s looking through us.  I don’t know if he’s even hearing us.  There’s… no reaction.  We’re worried… if he sees you… it’ll confirm what Brenner already suspects.  If he reacts and… throws himself into your arms… that’s not good for either of you.”

No, no, no, no.  

No.

This wasn’t unheard of.  Some tributes never really left the arena.  It was rare, but it happened.  It just couldn’t be happening to Jonathan.

“What about Jane?” He asked suddenly.  Surely his sister would be able to snap him out of it.

She winced.  “Brenner wants their reunion during the interview… for the fanfare.”

He gaped at her.  “How the fuck does he expect to have a reunion if he’s… unresponsive?”

“That’s why we’re telling you now,” Nancy said.  “You’ll have to try but… you need to make sure you keep one hand on the wheel in there.  I’ve tried to prep him… talk to him, but I don’t know if he really heard any of it.”

He put his head in his hands.  None of this could be happening.  Jonathan won.  He got to come home.  Why was this happening to his boy?  No one deserved this, but least of all Jonathan Byers.  He was just trying to look after his brother and sister.

Steve released a heavy sigh.  “Okay.  Let me see him.”

“You should see Jane first,” Hopper said.  “It’ll help dispel some suspicion.  It took you time to visit them… and chose Jane before Jonathan.”

Fine.

“All right, but she’s just gonna ask me about Jon,” Steve said.

Nancy pursed her lips.  “Yeah, she’s been asking us too.  Do your best not to share much.  She’s also having a tough time.  She’s angry.  The doctors were held at bay because she was trying to get to Jonathan.”

Steve groaned, nodding.  “Yeah, okay.  At least she’s talking… right?”

“Yeah,” Hopper said.  “She’s fiery, and wound up, but she’s talking, and physically they just had to put an implant in her ankle.”

“I have to ask,” he said, stomach churning as he even thought about it.  “They’re not… enhancing them… are they?”

Hopper’s face paled as he shook his head.  “No.  After what happened with you… I’ve been vigilant in making sure they don’t alter them.”

Thank god for that.

“Good.”  Steve sniffed.  “That’s good.”

Nancy gave him a troubled look.  “Steve… when you see him, just brace yourself.  He’s still so thin, and… it’s just startling.”

Steve was tempted to make a light hearted quip about how Nancy didn’t look camera ready when she came out of the arena either, but he didn’t think that’d land well under the circumstances.  “I’ve got it, Nance.  It’s not exactly my first rodeo.”

“Steve,” Hopper said sternly.  “This is different.  You and Wheeler… you two were talking.  You were scared and angry and sad, but you were up, talking, walking.  Jonathan hasn’t moved from his one spot in bed.  It’s just different.  We know how to fix broken bones, and missing limbs… we can’t fix this without him fighting.”

“Okay,” Steve said.  There wasn’t much else he could say.  He wouldn’t know what to expect until Jonathan was sitting in front of him.  

He followed their advice.  His first stop once he got to the medical center was to see Jane.  Two peacekeepers guarding the door let him into her room.  She was in a hospital gown, hair shorter than the last time he’d seen it.  Maybe something had matted in it.  That happened sometimes.  

“Hey, kiddo,” Steve said, grabbing her attention.

Her face softened as she took him in.  Big brown eyes brimmed as she ran over to him, hugging him tightly.  He hugged her back and they stayed like that for a moment.  She pulled away and gave him a disapproving look.

“You are late.”

Steve gave an apologetic wince.  “In my defense, Barb kept my schedule pretty full.”

“Still,” she said, scolding him lightly.

“How you feeling?” He asked, crossing his arms.

She scowled, rolling her eyes.  “I want to get out of here.  I haven’t seen Jonathan.  No one will tell me how he’s doing.”

“I haven’t seen him yet,” he said honestly.  “He’s my next stop.”

“I thought you were friends,” she said, her expression hardening.

He nodded.  “Yeah, but you know… ladies first.”

She gave a light chuckle, and it was almost like magic.  She was laughing.  Thank goddess for that.  He had to give it to her, she was a resilient little firecracker.

“You sleeping okay?” He asked.

Her face paled and she gave a shrug.  “No.  I can’t.”

“It took me a while too,” he offered.  It was true.  There were still some weeks he went without a wink of sleep.  “It’ll happen.”

“I want to see Jonathan,” she said, glancing at the door.

So did Steve.

“Soon,” he said.  “The interviews are tomorrow, and then you won’t have to worry about being separated anymore.  I promise.”

“Is he okay?” She asked, seemingly unsatisfied with his response.

“His arm had to be replaced,” he opted to share that instead of the other stuff.  “But otherwise, they just had to stitch him up and give him a transfusion.  How about you?  I was worried about that ankle and gash on your head.  Though, it looks like you don’t have a scratch on that face so, at least they took care of that.”

She instinctively touched the spot on her face where the gash had once been.  “I haven’t been able to look.  There are no mirrors.”

He frowned, nodding.  That was standard.  It could be jarring to see how emaciated one looked when they first got out of the arena.  “Trust me, you look good as new, kid.”

“When do we go home?” she asked.  

“After the interviews there’s a banquet in your honor.  We usually get on the train right after but… given how different these games are, I’m not sure.”

She scowled.  “That’s what Nancy said.”

Steve shrugged, scratching his head.  “Well, unfortunately, she’s usually right… and she knows it.”

Another laugh escaped her.  She had no idea how much relief that gave him.  At least one of the two tributes was coping.  “That’s true.”

He stayed with her for a while.  They didn’t talk about much.  He got the feeling she was just happy for some company.  Nancy and Hopper seemed so preoccupied with Jonathan’s condition that they probably spent less time giving Jane attention.  He didn’t blame them, she was coping far better than Steve had… or even Nancy.  She might have gotten more of the support from them in the arena, but Jonathan needed it back in the Capitol.

For the first time since they’d been out of the arena, he didn’t mind the delay in seeing Jonathan.  He knew if Jonathan was able to speak with Steve, he’d want to make sure Jane was doing all right.  Besides, he hoped her progress would soften the blow of Jonathan’s state.  

Steve mustered up the courage to leave her for Jonathan.  He was at the opposite end of the floor.  Apparently, the Capitol wanted to ensure that the siblings couldn’t see each other until the interview.  Ordinarily, this would have rubbed him the wrong way.   If Jonathan was really in as bad a shape as Nancy and Hopper implied, it was good Jane couldn’t see him by chance.

When he reached Jonathan’s room, there was not a single peacekeeper by his door.  Oh no.  There was always a guard or two.  Victors hardly ever came out of the games without killing anyone, and therefore were considered dangerous when brought back to the Capitol.  It didn’t bode well that there wasn’t anyone worried about Jonathan doing any sort of damage.

He took a deep breath and gripped the icy doorknob.  The room smelled sterile.  Jane’s was too, but this was different.  It was almost as though there was no sign anyone occupied this room.  If it weren’t for the subtle beeps of the equipment and occasional squeaking of shoes, he would have questioned if this was the right room.

Walking deeper into the room, there was a closed white curtain, the silhouette of a bed and other equipment visible.  He extended his arm to pull back the curtain when he noticed his hand was trembling.  His hand withdrew, as he closed his eyes.  He had to be strong.  This wasn’t about him.  It was about Jonathan, and Steve needed to have a hand on the wheel no matter what was waiting for him on the other side of the curtains.

He drew the curtain back and his throat tightened.  The bed was in a slightly elevated position.  Jonathan was lying on his back.  His eyes were open slightly, staring ahead at the stark white wall across from him.  He looked far too thin, his cheekbones practically poking out of his skin.  His eyes were sunken in, dark circles bordering them.  Jonathan’s expression was blank, lips parted slightly.  

“Jon,” Steve said gently as he cautiously approached the bed.  

There was no response, not even a flicker of his eyes to acknowledge that he heard him.  His heart was in his stomach.  He reached the bed, sitting on the edge.  “It’s me, Jon.  It’s Steve.”

Nothing.

Steve’s voice faltered as he continued.  “You’re back in the Capitol, ba–Jonathan.  It’s over.  You get to go home soon.”

Not even a change in his breathing.  

“I saw Jane.  She’s doing really well, Jonathan.  You should be so proud of her,” he croaked, eyes stinging.  “She was asking about you.  She can’t wait to see you.  And then, we get to go home.  You’ll see your Mom and Will.  Wait until you get into the big house in Victors’ Village.  Will can use like a dozen rooms for his art.”

He desperately looked into Jonathan’s eyes, silently begging for any sign of acknowledgement.  Blank eyes stared through him.

Steve looked away, biting his lip– desperately trying to keep himself from breaking down.  Nancy was fucking right again– keeping him away was the best move.  He felt so helpless.  He moved to stand up when he felt it, a weak grip on his wrist accompanied by a broken sob.

Nothing mattered.  

He could still taste Hargrove’s blood.  It was gone, but he still felt it.

It didn’t matter.

There was talking.  He didn’t know who or why.  It didn’t matter.  Nothing did.  

His arm hurt.  Then it didn’t.  

It didn't matter.

Someone was trying to talk to him.  He thought it was to him.  He wasn’t listening.

It didn’t matter.

Then he heard it.  “Jane…. Will.”

It all came crashing down on him.  Steve was there.  When did he get here? Where was here?  He was moving to leave.  No!

He grabbed him with his good hand, and couldn’t stop the sobs that poured out of him.  He didn’t even know why he was crying.  Maybe it was because he still tasted Hargrove’s blood on his tongue.  Maybe it was because of the guilt from Carol and Heather.  Maybe it was because he saw Kali or Hargrove’s dead body every time he closed his eyes.

Maybe it was because he wanted to die in the arena.

That would have been better than this.  

Steve was shushing him soothingly.  He scooted closer to him, gently brushing his hair out of his face.  He delicately held his face, running a thumb over Jonathan’s forehead affectionately.  “Hey.  You did it, Jon.  You brought her back… and she brought you back.”

He brought her back.  For what?  To go on a Victory Tour?  To mentor other kids?  To spend the rest of her life coming to and from the Capitol?

It didn’t matter.

Then Steve spoke again.  His voice dropped low so only Jonathan could hear.  “You came back to me.”

That hurt worse.

Steve thought this was a good thing.  Didn’t he realize that Jonathan would have been better off dead?  How could Steve even want him?  He was only alive because Jane had to kill someone in a brutal, awful way because Jonathan couldn’t defend himself.  His last moments in the arena were pitiful, and he honestly wished he’d plunged the dart into his throat.

He closed his eyes.  Hargrove was looming over him, pressing the dagger against his throat.

“It’s okay,” Steve’s voice brought him back.

He blinked.  The hospital room.  He squeezed Steve’s hand tighter.  “Jane?”  His voice was unrecognizable.  It was dry, hoarse.  Mixed with the sobs, he sounded pathetic.

“She’s fine,” Steve said hurriedly.  “I just came from her.  She’s asking about you.”

“Can I see her?” He hated how he sounded– like a kid, weeping over a scraped knee.

Steve’s eyes softened.  “Soon,” he said.  “At the interview.  We gotta get you up and about so they can schedule it.  You wanna see her, right?”

He didn’t want anything, so he didn’t answer, looking right back at the wall.

“Jonathan,” Steve said desperately. “Come on.  Jane needs you… and she’s not the only one.”

He was tired of being needed.  Will needed him to volunteer.  Jane needed him to get them sponsors.  Mom needed him to look after them.  What about what Jonathan needed?

“Oh, Jon,” Steve said, and that was when he realized he’d said all that out loud.  “It’ll be different.  I’ve got you.  You don’t need to do anything but come back to Four with me.  Your mom will be taken care of between all the money from you and Jane.  Will won’t have to put his name in extra times for more food.  The houses in the village are all taken care of.  All you need to do is… choose us.”

His face was wet.  None of this mattered.  Why didn’t Steve see it didn’t matter?  He didn’t want this.  Jonathan didn’t want anything.  

“Jon,” Steve was pleading.  “Listen to me.  When we get back home–”

“I can’t,” he choked out.  “I– I killed her.  He died on top of me. And I’m supposed to go home?”

Steve gave a pained expression.  “You saw how many people I killed… Nancy killed.  Even Jane killed people, Jonathan.  We do what we have to in order to get the hell out of that arena.  Don’t you think Jane deserves to go home?”

“I volunteered.”  A harsh sob ripped out of him.  “I chose this.”

Steve squeezed his hand.  “It doesn’t change anything.  You saved Will, and you helped Jane get home.”

He shook his head.  “No.  She would have won on her own.  She saved me.”

“Jonathan,” Steve said firmly. “Listen to me.  You led two careers to their deaths.  You distracted Billy long enough for Jane to get her bearings– if you weren’t there, he would have killed her.  You did what you had to do to bring your sister home… and she returned the favor.  You need to be strong for just a little bit longer.  We’ll get back to Four, and then you won’t have to take care of anything.  Let me do it.”

He let out a bitter laugh.  “You ignored me.  The moment you came back… you don’t care.  I’m just another notch–”

“No,” Steve said, adjusting his grip on Jonathan’s hand. “When we get home, I’ll explain everything.  What happened before the arena…I meant what I said.”

“You can’t even say it now,” Jonathan said.

Steve frowned.  “I asked you to come home to me.  I’m in your corner.  I’m not going anywhere.  I didn’t want to pull away.  Trust me.  I helped you, I helped Jane.  Let me keep helping.”

Jonathan whimpered.  “I don’t want to do this.”

“Do what?” Steve asked.  

Anything.

“It doesn’t matter,” he mumbled.  Nothing did.

“When we get back to Four, you won’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” Steve said.  “But you need to get out of this bed.  Jon, if you don’t, they’ll hurt the people you care about.  You know what happened to the Wheelers.  That wasn’t just a freak accident.”

He moved his hand from Steve’s grasp, shifting and resting his head in his hands?  He looked at his left hand.  It wasn’t… there was something wrong with it.  “My… my arm.”

Steve’s jaw clenched as he swallowed thickly, nodding.  “The infection from your hand and damage to your arm… they amputated from below the elbow.  The prosthetics… they’re almost as good as the real thing–”

Jonathan didn’t realize he was screeching in horror until Steve was trying to soothe him, whispering words he couldn’t process.  “Get it off! I don’t want it.  I don’t want anything from them!  Take it off!”

Someone walked over.  He didn’t recognize her, she was wearing white, the National seal on the shoulder of her garb.

Steve stood up, moving in front of her, preventing her from getting any closer.  “Don’t.”

“He’s in distress–”

“He’s talking,” Steve snapped.  “You sedate him, we’re back to square one.  I’m sure President Brenner won’t appreciate having to rearrange the interviews because you decided sedation was the best option.  Is this your first year?  The victors don’t come out of the arena without being a little rough around the edges.  Leave us, and maybe I won’t call Brenner and let him know how you tried to sabotage everything.”

Jonathan was trembling, scooting to the far side of the bed.  He tried to get up, to move away from her, but he stumbled and crashed to the ground.  Another sob escaped him as he flailed on the ground.  He tried to get himself up, but with the new arm… he couldn’t push up.

“Flopping around like a fish out of water.”  Hargrove was looming over him, running a knife down his ribs.

“Now look what you’ve done,” Steve fired at the woman.  

Right.  The hospital.  He wasn’t in the arena anymore.  Hargrove was dead.

Steve walked around to the other side of the bed and gingerly helped Jonathan get off the floor.  He sat him on the edge of the mattress.  Jonathan leaned forward, resting his head against Steve’s chest.  He patted Jonathan’s back supportively, rubbing it firmly before grasping his shoulder.  

“Are you done?  Or is there anything else you want to fuck up?” He snarled at the woman.

She snipped something back, Jonathan didn’t hear it.  He was just focusing on the rise and fall of Steve’s chest.  He heard footsteps retreating.  She was gone.  

Steve knelt down so they were at eye level.  “Let me get you something to eat.”

“Don’t go,” he mumbled.  His breath was shallow– shaky, and he couldn’t stop the tremors that were ripping through him.  Steve’s shirt felt soft as he gripped it tightly, terrified of being left alone again.  They already took his arm.  What else would they take?

Steve nodded, resting his head against Jonathan’s.  “I’m not going anywhere, Jonathan.”

He was true to his word.  Steve didn’t leave his side.  He was vigilant, monitoring all the medical and other professionals closely.  Someone did eventually bring him some food– at Steve’s demand.  He only ate a few bites.  He wasn’t hungry– he should have been, but he wasn’t.

Vickie came in eventually.  She had to get measurements because apparently he had lost a lot of weight in the arena.  She told him Jane was doing well, and she couldn’t wait to see him.  That was the only thing he was looking forward to.  He wanted to see that she was okay for himself.  

They dressed him, and made him eat more.  The prep team came in and painted his face.  He didn’t even care what he looked like anymore.  They could do whatever they wanted– dress him in ridiculous costumes or nothing at all, paint his face or cut it off.  

It didn’t matter.  

Maybe it never did.

Despite everything, he found himself leaning on Steve– literally and figuratively.  He clung to him, hiding behind him when someone unfamiliar came by, not following any instructions unless Steve gave him a nod of approval.  He didn’t know what anything was anymore.  He didn’t feel like him.  Steve was like gravity, keeping him on Earth… in more ways than one.

He hated the arm, wanted it gone.  Steve told him it wasn’t a good idea.  There was no getting his original one back, and it was better to have a fake arm than no arm at all.  They had done something with the nerves.  There was some slight feeling through the prosthetic– well sensation more than anything.  It would have hurt to remove anyway, and he wasn’t looking for any more pain in this lifetime.  

Nancy and Hopper came to see him.  They didn’t seem happy.  He didn’t really care.  

It didn’t matter.

Why didn’t anyone see that?

“Where’s Jane?” He asked.  

Steve placed a hand on the small of his back.  “You’ll see her at the interview, remember?  We talked about this.”

Right.

He was forgetting a lot.  Funny.  One of the only things he could remember was how forgetful he’d become.  He should have died in that arena.  This was an awful existence.  

“It might be the medicine,” Nancy said, seemingly reading his mind.  “I could hardly remember my own name with all the morphling–”

“It’s morphling?” He asked.

She nodded.  “Yeah.  They’re weaning you off.  You should be done with it in time for the interview.”

“I don’t want to go to the interview,” he said, feeling two feet tall.

Nancy’s face dropped.  “I know.  You’ll get to see Jane.  She’ll be with you the whole time.”

That made him feel worse.  She was going to see him like this.  He was… hollow.  No.  Not hollow.  Hollow would have been easier.  He was fractured.  Not his body, but his mind… his soul.  Jonathan was the kind who was solitary, happy to be in his own company.  He liked to read, listen to the radio, and be with nature.  Now that all sounded awful.  Being alone with himself was nightmarish.  He was in a different place every time he closed his eyes.  Hiding under leaves, running from falling rocks, pinned down by Hargrove– it was maddening.  The worst of it was that he knew he was different… fragmented.  It made it more frustrating.

They were getting ready to take him out of the room. He was just content for this to be almost over with. Then he saw it. His reflection. 

He looked grotesque. All the makeup in the world couldn’t make him look good. He looked corpse-like, face too thin, eyes almost lifeless. That wasn’t what really got him though. 

The clothing. 

The shirt was hardly a shirt. It was almost a cowl. A pink shimmering cowl with a hood. It had tassels, or maybe not tassels, but long arms of fabric wrapping around his torso and chest. But he wasn’t completely covered. Much of his chest was visible between the bands of cloth.  The bottoms were similar, shorts with the same kinds of tendril-like strands wrapping around his legs. 

He didn’t do it on purpose. 

One moment he was staring at himself in the mirror. The next Hargrove was hovering over him. “Where are your stingers now, Four?”

When his mind returned to the hospital he was cowering on the floor, his face buried in his knees, arms hugging them close. 

“Vickie didn’t have a choice, baby,” Steve whispered in his ear, so quiet he almost couldn’t hear what he was saying. “Brenner insisted.”

It was the first time Steve had called him “baby” since he got out of the arena. At least, he thought it was, he might have forgotten. 

“I’m not a fish,” he said pitifully. It was stupid— a costume. But he just wanted to be a person. Was it too much to ask?

“Of course you’re not,” Vickie said apologetically. “The moment this is over, I have something comfortable—non-themed clothes for you to wear. They wanted you two to match… for the interview.”

He was trembling again, but he let Steve help him off the floor. If Jane was a fish, he could be one too. Steve guided him out of the room, and Jonathan did his best to avoid his reflection. 

Nancy and Hopper were with Jane. That made him feel better, knowing they were there with her. He had Steve. 

There was an echo of who he was before the arena, screaming at him not to rely on Steve so much. He’d abandoned Jonathan before, he could do it again.

It didn’t matter.

He had no one else to lean on. Nancy and Hopper had to look after Jane— Jonathan wasn’t any good at it anymore. That left Steve and… Jonathan wasn’t strong enough to continue on his own. 

They got to the theater and his heart dropped. He could hear all the people. If Jonathan thought the trembling was bad before, nothing could have prepared him for how badly he was shaking like a leaf waiting to go on stage. 

“Hey,” Steve cooed, putting his hands on Jonathan’s shoulders— forcing him to make eye contact. “Like last time. Just pretend you’re talking to me. I’ll be right backstage the whole time.”

Jonathan didn’t want to go on stage at all. He could barely string a coherent sentence together and they expected him to give a whole interview. The only reason he wasn’t in shambles was because it meant he’d see his sister. He’d get to see that she was okay with his own two eyes. 

Barb was there.  It was the first time he’d seen her since he came out of the arena.  Actually, he wasn’t sure if that was true.  Apparently, a lot happened that Jonathan didn’t remember.  It was a cruel kind of funny– the type of funny Lonnie used to be, that he was forced to remember the one thing he wanted to forget, and couldn’t remember much of anything else.  

Her face was troubled.  Jonathan didn’t think he’d ever seen her like this before.  She seemed…crestfallen.  As far as Capitol citizens went, Barb was hardly the most out of touch, but she always seemed happy enough– maybe a little envious of some of her peers, but she seemed content mostly.  This was different.

Maybe they got her in trouble.

Maybe they got everyone in trouble.

It didn’t matter.

Except… maybe it did.  

Maybe a little.

“How are you, Jonathan?” Barb asked.  He got the feeling she was genuinely asking.

“It doesn’t matter,” he heard himself say.

Fuck.

He shouldn’t have said that.

“O–of course it… does,” Barb said, clearly taken aback.  She looked over towards Nancy who was there too.  When did Nancy get there?

Nancy gave a thin smile, eyes hard as she looked at Barb.  “He’s taking it one day at a time.”

Was he?  

Wasn’t everyone?

There was a wall of sound from the other side of the curtain.  He nearly jumped out of his skin.  Steve’s fingertips were between his shoulder blades and he gave a light shove.  “That’s your cue, Jon.  Go out there, see Jane, and just pretend you’re talking to me.”

He was trembling as he took a few steps forward.  Hazel eyes met his as he peered back over his shoulder back at Steve.  He gave a supporting nod, and Jonathan stepped out onto the stage.

It was too loud.

Much too loud.

He wanted to run back off stage, but then he saw her.  

Jane.

He almost didn’t recognize her.  Her hair was slicked back and her dress was a deep pink bordering on red. She also had a cowl, but it was far more structured, the hooded part was practically hovering over her head with how firm it was.  The skirt of her dress was entirely frilled, representing the tendrils of jellyfish.

Jonathan could hardly finish taking in the sight of her before she was crashing into his arms.  He hugged her tight, lifting her up as he gripped her, refusing to let her go.  His face was wet, as he finally put her back on the ground.  

“You are okay,” she said, smiling affectionately at him.

He wasn’t.  Not really.

He nodded anyway.  “So are you?”

“Yeah.  I think so,” she said.

Yuri beckoned them over to the couches.  The questions he asked were dull, and he found himself volleying between the arena and the theater.  Jane fielded most of the questions so that helped.  It seemed like they wanted to know more about her anyway.

“Jonathan,” Yuri addressed him, ruining Jonathan’s silent streak.  “What is the best part of being out of the arena?”

“I’m not covered in blood anymore,” he said flatly.  It wasn’t a joke, it was the only thing he could think to say.  Yuri and the crowd laughed anyway.

He asked a few other questions.

“What made you think to hide under the leaves?”

“How did you manage with your broken arm?”

“Why didn’t you make any allies?”

His answers were short, dull, it was obvious Yuri was hoping for more in depth answers.  Jonathan just didn’t care.

It didn’t matter.

Then they showed the recap.  

Jane’s journey in the arena started out similarly.  She raced to the woods when the games began.  She didn’t get to climb at first, as she was pursued by a tribute he couldn’t place.  For a moment, he forgot.  He forgot that Jane was sitting beside him and not still in danger.  His heart was racing as he watched.  The boy had her pinned down and Jane… she bit him.  She bit his arm causing him to drop his weapon– the sickled thing she had, and used it to take the boy’s life.  

After that she climbed, but not as high as Jonathan, just enough to be out of sight, but low enough to keep an eye on the others running along.  She took the offensive approach, dropping down on another tribute as they ran by.

She and Kali teamed up.  There was a saltwater lake on the far side of the arena Jonathan avoided.  They had a bit of a standoff before Kali suggested a truce.  She had some fruit that she offered to share, but no weapons yet.  Jane agreed, but it took a little while before she let her guard down.

Kali looked after his sister.  Once she acquired some weapons, the two of them were almost unstoppable.  Jonathan was almost relieved that he didn’t have to come up against them.  Then they showed him.

He didn’t mean to.  It was an accident.

One moment the recap was playing, and then he was back in the arena, drowning in Hargrove’s blood.  He wasn’t trying to make a scene, but when he came to, he was cowering on the floor in front of the couch– he was covering his ears and hiding his face in his knees.  

Jane was staring, eyes wide, worried expression, as she edged closer to him.  It was then he realized that she was on the ground beside him, huddling up to him.  He felt shame creep up within him.  She shouldn’t have to see him like this.  He should have been stronger, for her.  Why couldn’t he do this for her?

For a moment, he was afraid she’d lash out in his defense– demand they turn it off.  But Nancy was storming the stage.  She stood between him and the cameras.

“Is this what you wanted?” Her jaw clenched as she was yelling at nobody in particular.  “You got your show!  When will it be enough?  What more could you possibly want?”  

Jonathan expected Barb to drag her off the stage and scold her.  Instead she stood off the side, unmoving.  Her face was hard to read, but she didn’t seem mad at Nancy for her outburst.  Her eyes were fixed on Yuri.

Eventually some peacekeepers dragged Nancy off the stage.  Yuri made an awkwardly apologetic excuse to cut to a sponsorship break.  Steve came over to him, exchanging a look with Jane.  

“I know, Jon,” he said soothingly.  “You’re almost there.”

They were not.  Unless he blocked a fair chunk out of his mind, which was not out of the question, they had just begun his journey, stumbling into the clearing.  He wasn’t sure how he could sit through any more of this.

Jane gripped his hand, squeezing it tightly.  “We can do it together.”

He didn’t want to.

For Jane though… for her he would.  Jonathan forced himself off the ground, sitting back on the couch.  A peacekeeper approached them, and Steve tried to wave them away, but they pushed through and injected something into Jonathan’s arm before he could process what was happening.

The recap continued, but he wasn’t in his body– even worse than before.  He was floating.  The images looked real, but he didn’t mind it so much this time.  Hargrove, Heather, and Freckles attacked Jane and Kali.  They were able to fight them off and get away, but Hargrove was clearly pissed about it.

They showed Heather, and there was no point in hiding the sob that escaped him.  He didn’t fall to the floor this time, so maybe that was good enough.  No one told him to stop, but he could feel the camera zooming in on him.  

Freckles and Hargrove had tracked down Jane and Kali.  He had deduced on his own that Hagan was the one to get Kali, but he didn’t know that Jane had held her own against Hargrove.  He had her against a tree, pinned and bringing down his sword– and she bit his face– hard.  That was how his lost the ear.  Jane had bitten it off.

That was why Hargrove hadn’t come for them.  He was too busy licking his wounds.  He left his body for the rest of it, not even processing the moving images on the screen.  People were cheering, as he saw himself pinned down, Hargrove, about to go for the kill, when Jane got up and jumped on his back, and slit his throat. Seeing himself drowning in blood was almost as bad as experiencing it. He was gasping for air in his seat as he placed his head in his hands, a trembling, weeping mess. Eventually, they were being ushered off the stage.  He felt sick.

Jane’s big brown eyes were studying him closely.  It was like she was trying to piece together what was wrong with him. 

It didn’t matter. 

She then looked at Hopper, expression hardening. Oh. They didn’t warn her that Jonathan wasn’t Jonathan anymore. He was a fragmented echo in the body of who he used to be. They should have warned her. Maybe they were worried how she’d react. It wasn’t unfair. Jane was nothing if not stubborn, but if the roles were reversed, he would have liked to know. 

He felt Steve’s presence beside him, a firm hand on his back. That was as affectionate as he’d been since they left the hospital room. Maybe he finally wised up and realized he didn’t want this… used-to-be-Jonathan, a sorry substitution for the original. 

Nancy took his hand instead, blue doe eyes paired with a soft, comforting smile. “You did it, Jonathan,” she said gently. “It’s all downhill from here. You just have to pose for a few pictures, go to the victory ceremony and gala. Then we’re heading back home. You can see your mom and Will.”

Would they be as taken aback by him as Jane was? Would they pull away from him? Should he have died in the arena?

Did it matter?

Jane tucked herself into his side. She practically shoved Steve away as she wrapped her arms around his waist. At least her surprise wasn’t souring to disdain yet, or worse indifference. 

The trembling lessened but didn’t subside. Seeing what happened in the games, hearing the cheers and cries of the audience, he wished he’d died in the arena. 

“Come on,” Barb said hurriedly. “Let’s get you two out of here for now. Too many cameras.”

Funny. He thought she’d be the kind to welcome publicity, most others from the Capitol relished in it. 

Hopper nodded. “Yeah, we’ll take them upstairs. Vickie has an outfit change for them before the photo shoot, and they should really eat something soon.”

Jonathan wasn’t hungry, but he got the feeling it didn’t matter. They were going to try and make him eat something. It’d been a trend since getting out of the arena. 

Why did that matter?

Starve them in the arena but force feed them after… would it kill them to make up their mind?  This was worse, though— tasting Hargrove’s blood in his tongue so distinctly after watching the replay… he didn’t want to eat a single crumb. 

“Just a bit of toast,” Steve urged. 

When had they gotten to their floor? He didn’t remember leaving the theater. He didn’t remember a lot. 

He shook his head, pushing the plate away. “I don’t feel well.”

Barb frowned. “I can ask someone to get you something for the nausea—”

Steve shook his head. “I think he’s been pumped full of enough drugs today.”

Jonathan didn’t think he’d had enough. 

“It doesn’t matter,” he mumbled, turning his head to the side. “Can I sleep?”

Nancy’s eyes softened, pity filling them. “They want you two for photos.” She hugged her arms close to her body as she glanced at the floor. “After that, there should be a break—”

“I don’t think sleeping is gonna help anything,” Hopper said firmly. 

Jonathan rolled his eyes with a scoff. Oh. So now Hopper gave a fuck about what Jonathan was doing. Before the arena, he’d barely paid him any attention. It was good that Jane got the focus, he was glad, but he still wasn’t really interested in what Hopper had to say.

Every eye in the room was on him. 

Oh fuck. 

He said that aloud. He used to be better at that, knowing when he was speaking and when he was just thinking.  His back slumped as he slunk down in the chair, avoiding everyone’s gaze. His face was hot, eyes stinging. He hated this new version of himself. 

“Okay,” Hopper said evenly. “We can hash that out when we’re back in Four. For now, sleep isn’t an option, all right? You’ll need to be ready in case they make any changes to the schedule. They weren’t expecting two victors.”

Jonathan didn’t look up, shaking his leg anxiously. He didn’t even want there to be two. Jane should have won. 

Jane sat beside him and gripped his hand silently. It didn’t help much. 

Steve sat back in his seat, and Jonathan could feel his eyes boring into him. “Jon,” he said patiently. “It’s okay. No one’s upset. We all had to figure out how to adjust after the arena. We’re almost there—”

“Everyone keeps saying that,” he whispered, almost desperate. “But we’re still here. We still have to do things and I just wanna go to bed.”

Silence. 

“I’ll be with you,” Jane said quietly. “We’ll do it together. Like we always do. Don’t make me do it alone.”

Fine. 

He nodded, finally looking up from the floor. “Sorry,” he muttered in Hopper’s direction. 

He shrugged. “Nothing to be sorry for, kid.”

It was nice of Hopper to say that. Jonathan knew he shouldn’t have lashed out like that. Mom would have given him a lecture about it. 

Mom. 

Would she like the new Jonathan? Or would she hate him as much as he hated himself? What about Will?

“Come on,” Nancy urged. “At least have some water or juice. You’re going to need some energy for the photos and the ceremony.”

And the party. 

She didn’t say it, but everyone had mentioned the gala. Jonathan had a feeling people were going to want to talk to him. Would they ask about the arena? Would they reference the incident with Hargrove… or Heather?

“Can we just say I’m sick?” He asked weakly. If he was being honest, he knew the answer before he asked. 

“They’ll just pump you full of drugs and make you do it anyway,” Hopper said nonchalantly. 

Maybe that wouldn't be so bad. 

Jane squeezed his hand a little tighter. “I will be with you the whole time.”

He drank a sip of the apple juice Jane handed him.  It was too sweet, but he drank it.  Everything here was too much.  He couldn’t explain it.  The lights were too bright, the noises too loud, the juice too sweet, the beds too soft.  It was disgusting.

The photo shoot was a blur.  They moved him around, like a doll, posing him just so.  He was able to just… stop.  He didn’t have to think or do anything.  Steve was arguing with the photographer about something.  

It didn’t matter.

“Come on,” Steve huffed, guiding Jonathan away.  

Hopper was grumbling something.  

Oh.

They were arguing.  

“He was being an ass,” Steve snipped.

Hopper frowned.  “Most people here are jackasses.  It’s the Capitol.”

Steve made a dismissive grunt.  “I don’t care.  He got enough shots.  They can make do.”

“It’s fine,” Nancy interjected.  “Steve’s right.  They got enough.”

“When the hell did I become the level headed one?” Hopper asked.  

“What happened?” Jonathan asked.

Steve winced, rubbing Jonathan’s shoulder blade and squeezing the top near his neck.  “It’s nothing.”

So it was something.

“Where’s Jane?” He asked, glancing around.

Nancy glanced over her shoulder, clearing her throat.  “She finished first, remember?  Vickie is getting her changed for the gala.”

He did not remember.  

“Oh.  Right,” he said flatly.  “Do I have to go to that?”

She gave him a pitying smile and nodded.  “Yeah.”

“Do I have to talk to people?” 

“Only the president,” Hopper murmured.

What?

No.

What?

“No,” he said dumbly.

“It’s not really a request,” Hopper said. 

Nancy gave him a sharp look.  She glanced back to Jonathan, face softening.  “He’s just going to give you your medal and wish you congratulations.”

“For what?” 

She blinked.  “For… winning the games.”

“Oh.”

“You just have to say thanks,” Steve said hastily.

“For what?”

“For his congratulations,” Nancy said.

“Oh.”

Hopper released a heavy sigh.  “Well… this is great.  What could possibly go wrong?”

“Stop it,” Nancy said warningly.

He laughed in disbelief.  “Oh.  I’m sorry.  You storm the stage at the interview, and Harrington tells off the photographer, but I’m the one who needs to knock it off?”

It was an accident.

Really it was.

Rocks were falling around him, he was covering his head to protect himself.  Except he wasn’t.  He was in the hallway, on the ground, covering his ears as he trembled, eyes squeezed shut.

“I’m sorry,” he said.  His face was hot with embarrassment.  Why was this happening?  Why was he stuck in the arena?

“It’s okay,” Steve said.  He was crouched next to him, hand on his shoulder.  “It’ll get easier once you’re home.”

He didn’t think that was true.

“Can we go home now?” he asked.  His face was wet.  Was he crying again?  Why the fuck was he crying?  Why?

“It’s okay,” Steve said.  “You’ve been through a lot.  Crying is natural.”

Fuck.  He said that aloud again.  Why did that keep happening?
“We’ll be on the train before you know it,” Nancy said.

They’d been saying that for days.

“I want to sleep,” he said weakly.  

“When we get on the train, you can rest,” Steve said, squeezing lightly.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.  When he opened them, he was staring at the president.  Jane was next to him.  Her dress was nice, but they weren’t fish anymore.  He looked down at his own outfit.  It was a blue shirt and dress pants. 

Brenner looked… smaller than he imagined.  He was lean– tall but lean.  His voice was softer in person.  He was… both human and inhuman at the same time.  It didn’t make sense.

“Congratulations.”  He placed a crown on Jonathan’s head.  Jane already had one.  How did he miss that?

Oh.  right.  He was supposed to answer.  “Uh… thank you.”

“I was astonished by your devotion to bringing your sister home,” he said.

They told him he only had to say thanks.

“Thank you,” he repeated dumbly.  “I… thanks.  I’m sorry.  I… sorry.”

Brenner smiled thinly with an amused hum.  “Enjoy the party.”

He did not.  The party was awful.  People kept trying to talk to him.  All he kept saying was thanks.  That wasn’t even the worst of it.  

Steve kept leaving him, and Jane was being whisked away every time he blinked.  She was better to talk to than he was.  She said more than two words and was the one who actually won for them.  Then he saw her.

A woman with fuschia hair was talking to Steve.  They seemed close.  She was… affectionate, toying with his necktie, twiddling with his fingers.

“Who is that?”

Nancy hummed as she looked over.  She looked a bit taken aback.  “What the hell is she doing here?”

“Who is she?” He asked again.

Nancy looked back at him distractedly.  “Oh.  She’s one of your sponsors.  She sponsors our tributes every year, but I’ve only met her once.  She doesn’t usually come out to things like this.”

“But… who is she?” He asked.  

Nancy’s jaw clenched.  “No one–”

“Why won’t you tell me?” He snapped.  Eyes were on him.  He didn’t care this time.  He was sick of this.  

Nancy glared at him harshly.  “Don’t,” she said through gritted teeth.  “It’s Steve’s business to tell.”

“So she’s someone to him,” he said, voice faltering.

She shook her head.  “It’s not like that.”

“Then why won’t you tell me–”

“Her name is Lucy,” she said, voice dropping low.  “Her father fixed up your burns.  She and Steve have a rapport.”

It looked like more than a rapport.  

“Is she his girlfriend?” His eyes brimmed.  He was so fucking weak.  Before this he would have been angry, but now he felt like the rug was ripped from under him.

“Steve doesn’t have a girlfriend,” she said.

Relief broke over him… and then Nancy spoke again.

“Or a boyfriend.”

She was talking about him.  He knew there was more subtext there.  In the past he would have been able to understand the rest.  All he really grasped was that Steve wasn’t his boyfriend… and he probably never would be.

“I want to go home.”

“I know,” she said quietly.

Jonathan felt like he was off balance for the rest of the night.  He couldn’t stop looking at Steve and Lucy.  He wanted to die.  Jane found her way back to him, and that was the only thing keeping him upright.

They finally got on the train.  Steve was trying to say something to him.  Jonathan wasn’t really processing any of it.  He just slipped away into his bed car, and locked the door behind him.  He didn’t sleep.  He just stared out the window.  Steve knocked on the door a few times.  He pretended he couldn’t hear.

Eventually, one of the peacekeepers opened it.  Apparently they were worried he was going to hurt himself.  He didn’t care enough to do that.  Steve sat on the edge of the bed. Jonathan was still staring out the window.

“Baby, talk to me.”

That’s what did it.  “Don’t.  Don’t call me that.  You’ve barely called me that since I came out of the arena.”

Steve’s face softened.  “Ba… Jonathan… I’ll explain more back home.  I’m trying to protect you… protect us–”

“Who is Lucy?”

His eyes dropped as he rubbed his forehead.  “Wh…what?”

“She was at the party.  You two seem close,” he said flatly.

Steve released a heavy sigh.  “Yeah.  She’s a friend–”

“Are all your friends in the Capitol that affectionate?” He asked, his face pouting despite his best efforts to keep his face neutral.  His eyes welled, face hot.  He hated this.

“Jonathan… once we get home–”

“Can you please leave?  I’m really tired–”

“No,” Steve said firmly.  “Jonathan… Lucy is nothing.  She’s nothing.  The only person who has ever mattered to me is you.  I know things look… how they look.  When we get home, I promise no more secrets.  I just need you to trust me until then.  You trusted me after the arena… I need you to trust me for just a while longer.”

He was weak.  

“Okay.”

Steve inched closer, gently carding a hand through Jonathan’s hair.  He laid down beside him, and wrapped his arms around him.  “Try to rest, baby.  I’ll wake you when we get to Four.  I promise, once we’re home, I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

“Okay,” he said again.  His eyes felt heavy, being in Steve’s arms just felt safer.  He closed his eyes and let sleep come.

Notes:

Many thanks to my beta Anne! You can find me on Tumblr!

Notes:

Enormous thanks to my beta reader Anne! Also you can find me on Tumblr, and Kofi