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Cub’s nightmares that night were creeping and crawling the night after the Reaping, blue and green wet tendrils of living mold, pulsating and glowing with sentience, malice even. They grew around him, on him, ensnaring his legs and his arms as he tried fruitlessly to rip them off. 5Ku-1k covered his eyes, making it’s way into his mouth and nose, choking him until all there was was black and blue and foul. That’s when he woke with a scream.
“Cub, kid. Everything alright? What happened?“
It was Shubble, his Mentor, wearing a long purple night gown and clearly fresh out of the shower, worried expression on her face.
“I’m okay, I think. Just a nightmare.“
“Are you worried about the Games?“
“How could I not be? But this wasn’t about that.“
Cub really didn’t feel like sharing, especially not with this random stranger he’d met that morning but there was something in Shubble’s expression, the soft gentleness in her eyes like she really cared, that made him keep talking.
“I don’t know, it’s weird. Of course I’m worried about the Games but this was different, I was drowning… choking… on this- thing?”
She came forward, sitting at the foot of his bed, still wearing that gently encouraging smile.
“The brain works in weird incredible ways, just because your dream wasn’t about the Games doesn’t mean it wasn’t about the Games.“
“I’m not sure I follow?”
“The mind can do whatever it wants when dreaming, sometimes it reinterprets existing fears and things with abstract concepts, like the fear of death with drowning or choking on something.“
Cub liked that, both the reinterpretation of his dream and the fact that she wasn’t afraid to say the word death. Everyone surrounding the Games, or even just talking about them in District 9, made such a taboo of the concept of death, avoiding to actually mention the fact directly. He didn’t have that privilege, Cub had to come to terms with the concept of death, his own death most likely, very quickly.
“That… makes sense, I like that.“
“You like it?“
Shubble gave him a puzzled look.
“I mean… not the nightmare or the death… just the concept of my brain doing whatever it wants.“
“I see…“
She pondered for a moment before getting up and extending her hand to the boy.
“Come, I’ve got something that’ll put you right to bed?“
“Sleeping pills?“
The Tribute asked while getting up and taking her hand, she chuckled lightly at the idea.
“Gosh, now aren’t you a bit to young for that?“
“Not too young for the death games…“
“Fair point, but no. I have something better.”
“What’s that?“
“Warm milk with honey.“
Cub wanted to protest, that it definitely wasn’t better and that he wasn’t a little kid but the thought of getting tucked into bed with a cup of milk did sound amazing.