Chapter Text
Loose strands of midnight hair obscure Wraith’s vision as she observes the other legends from her private corner in the common room.
Even after a year or more of partaking in the games, she finds herself to be an outsider. Not that she puts much effort into changing that, of course.
Natalie and Elliott are her closest friends, and Pathfinder, too. But can they truly be her friends if they don’t even know who she is? Hell, Wraith doesn’t even know that much about herself. Only recently did she learn that her name is Renee Blasey and that she volunteered for the project that stole her memory, her identity, and her freedom. Where does that leave her? In the wake of her amnesia, Wraith took all the broken pieces and put herself back together. If she compared herself now to the person she used to be, could she even be considered the same person?
Wraith’s chilly gaze sweeps over the smiling faces of Ajey and Makoa as they chat amongst themselves. They are nice people, though perhaps their status as “nice” is negated by their participation in a bloodsport... Nonetheless, Wraith enjoys their company.
And yet, she refrains from befriending them. Ajay notices too much. As a medic, she is sensitive to people’s moods and observes every micro-expression and change in tone. Wraith knows that too much time around Ajay means putting her secrets at risk. And Makoa? Well, being around him just makes private information roll from one’s lips without a second thought.
The kindest people are always the most dangerous for those with secrets.
Ajay catches Wraith’s eye and offers a smile just for her. Discomfited, Wraith looks away, her lips pressed into a thin line.
Elliott and Natalie enter the common room with Silva at their heels. Bright smiles transform everyone’s faces, mouths watering at the sight of the tray of pork chops carried by Elliott.
He, too, catches her eye. In the beginning, Elliott tried to flirt with her the same way he does to everyone: over the top and cheesy as hell. But the look he gives her now is too real . It’s full of friendship and hope and understanding and a myriad of other things that only serves to make Wraith more uncomfortable.
Ajay and Elliott... All the attention makes her stomach twist.
Wraith stands and strides out of the room before she gets dragged into the chatter that is beginning to buzz around the room. It’s easier to handle social interaction when it’s strictly business. The joking and the chatter during matches doesn’t bother her much—just this. Too many eyes and ears and voices and not enough work to distract her.
Stay , whispers a voice from the void. Don’t leave .
In any other situation, Wraith would’ve listened. The Void is a blessing and a curse; the voices are dizzying sometimes, but they have helped her conquer the innate fear of battle and death. In fact, Wraith doesn’t fear much of anything, anymore.
Except for connection.
There is nothing more terrifying than opening her heart to another person. So, yes, Wraith would sooner walk into a firefight than take the risk of returning Elliott and Ajay’s smiles and seeing what happens next.