Chapter Text
He finishes dancing with Belle and heads back to his charges.
Ani makes kissy faces at Pyro and cackles with glee when he fake swipes at her for it.
Diesel ushers her off after a few minutes, citing the fact that Ani needed to do her job and talk to people.
"Now we're just chilling with the boys," Kappa says and Bluedank nods solemnly.
Trahan is now holding a small stack of cookies and he holds one out to Pyro, who takes it gratefully.
"Thought Kwebbelkop was going to be here," Kappa says.
"He is," Bluesdank says. "He's just talking to a bunch of people about something."
Pyro's ears perk up.
"About what?" Trahan asks.
Bluesdank shrugs. "I dunno, he seemed stressed about it."
Kappa nodded. "I heard that something big was gonna happen tonight."
Oh shit.
Not fucking again.
But he can't do anything to stop it.
Trahan's eyes start drooping within the next hour and Pyro passes him off to his parents.
They thank him and he brushes it off, saying it's nothing because it is.
Bluesdank wanders off after a while and then it's just him and Kappa left.
He makes mindless conversation with the boy.
Kappa seems content to ramble about some awful game and as he pushes up his glasses, Pyro spots the crest on his family ring. He remembers the first time he saw it.
He was in his games and was examining the parachute that had brought him some gauze. On the bottom of the container, there was a crest engraved in the metal.
It was not one of his sponsor's logos. He wondered about it for years. And then he became a presenter.
Kappa had been a scrawny 11-year-old, soldier coat too big for his body.
But something in his eyes shined too sharply.
And then he met the kid's father.
And Kappa's father mentions watching Pyro's Games back with Kappa and Kappa smiles at him, too sharp with a top tooth missing.
But Kappa's just like the rest of them. A product of his upbringing, and no space to change.
A bell rings and the pair quiets in eerie unison.
Silence sounds out across the room and it is as loud as the cannon at the Games.
There is a podium at the front of the room and three men walk up to the mic. Behind them trails another man, and Pyro recognizes him by his hat.
It's Kwebbelkop.
Pyro makes his way to the front. Belle makes her way and stands next to him.
"Do you know anything about this?" He whispers.
"A little," she says. "But you know how this all is." She makes a small sweeping gesture with her hand.
The man in front of the mic clears his throat.
He holds golden cue cards and Pyro's throat constricts.
Fuck those cue cards.
No doubt he will see them in Hell as he burns for eternity.
"As you all know, Panem has long left its citizens in the dark about the rest of the world. This was not done out of malice or spite, but done to shield our citizens from themselves because they simply couldn't handle it."
The room is quiet and tension coils like a python around them all.
They are just prey in its grasp.
"But now our citizens are strong enough to know about all of you and all that you have done for the nation of Panem!"
The crowd cheers and Pyro feels like he will fall, feels like the mountain that he has dug his fox holes in is crumbling around him.
"We have tried this before, unsuccessfully." Here the man nods to Belle.
Her face goes red and she looks down.
Are they trying to pin that on her? Are they kidding themselves?
Pyro is fuming.
Both him and Belle had told the directors that it was too big, too much. Dolan had sided with them but he was outvoted.
And then it failed, as they predicted. Too much attention, too fast.
Not her fault.
"Oh, fuck you," He hears a voice call from his right.
Its Mxmtoon.
She is gleaming under the lights. She has always been presented as otherworldly, high above all others, she who was born in the cold abyss in space and lived. Silver is set in her skin, and as she tightens her hands into fists, the flesh around the metal stretches into a tight, strained white.
It does not come as a surprise when the speaker stumbles over his words. Mxmtoon is like Minx, beautiful in her rage and ethereal in her peace.
"We have been having great success with Kwebbelkop, here!"
A wide smile from Kwebbelkop, Wilbur's new friend.
Poor Wilbur. Forced to play a role he doesn't know the lines to.
"We are planning to have unveiled other countries by Twitchcon and if all goes well, we will see some of you there!"
Oh, fuck .
He goes home, dread in his heart. He arrives at four
Josh is the only one awake, and even he has bedhead.
"Whas happen at the thing?" Josh mumbles.
Pyro shakes his head. "No clue, but some shit went down."
Josh nods. He's trying to stay awake but it's not working, because his eyes keep falling shut and he lists to one side.
"Go to bed, fuckass," Pyro nudges Josh as the tired boy leans on him.
"'M not tired," Josh says and yawns immediately after he says it.
"You aren't gonna give up on it, are ya?" Pyro smiles at Josh and it's like when he put his siblings to bed when they insisted that they weren't tired, but they all fell asleep before he could climb into their shared bed.
Pyro guides Josh to the younger man's bed.
He takes a quick shower, changes into his pajamas, and lays down next to Josh.
And it's like their first year stuck together when Josh had trouble expressing how he felt, and when Pyro had been desperate for family and Josh had been scared and Pyro protects his family, like always. And it's like being back home when the winters got too cold and Niall would move the mattress and blankets into the living room and his whole family would huddle together. And Niall would be blocking the wind, with the thinnest blanket, because family first. His blood ran hot anyway.
He sleeps over the covers, so if need be, he could shield Josh quickly.
He is wrapped in iron chains. For years, they have held. But there is a burning fire in his heart, fueled by his anger and the ashes of the fallen. And the iron is softened and melting. And soon the link will snap. And the chain will break. And the rabid fox will be released.