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Wyatt Callow was certain that he was going to throw up the little food he had managed to eat this morning. He was glad the tarp-like cloak hid his shaky limbs standing on post ready to be sent into the arena, fully aware it gave him the false sense of security. But what else could he cling onto? It wasn’t as if he had access to his teammates slash friends slash family anymore. What even were they? They were almost at each other's throats just last week.
Or better yet, what could they have all been? It felt easy to picture them hanging out together back home. He’d never believe he’d get along with people so different from him.
Maybe they could have spent a day annoying Maysilee at work? Sneak some of their favourite sweets from her warm hands, snickering to themselves in the quietness of the shop. Celebrate birthdays? He knew Haymitch’s was on the worst day, so if they lived out the reaping, would they spend every year trying to give him a good day despite it all? He could picture it so well. He could feel the actual happiness days like that would bring.
Wyatt bit his tongue harshly to force himself out of his clouded thoughts of what ifs. He’d been staring at his shoes to avoid looking for his friends. Any minute, any second, and their platforms will rise. They’ll be forced to stand and gather their surroundings until that awful alarm will ring its yearly chime of death. He dared to glance from the corner of his eye, seeing heads of fear struck kids waiting for the crunching sound of gears to turn. Wyatt skipped past them, finding the first familiar soul from a distance, who ended up being Lou Lou and her lost eyes.
His hands twitched as if to reach out towards her small frame. She was his sister now, well and truly, but just as quickly as she entered their lives he knew she was going to disappear soon. That poor girl, she didn’t even know what was really happening. If only he could just go over and hold her close, maybe give her a final happy memory to smile upon when the arena eventually kills her.
This had to be on purpose, Wyatt thought to himself. Separate the tributes from the same district to avoid grouping so early. That was all in the name of entertainment. Give the audience those short and sweet lived moments of being reunited. He was honestly sick of it, having watched those tributes who did reunite with tears and relieved laughter always die in the most painful ways. But there would always be one left alive, left to grieve to the cameras zoomed in on their moment. It pained Wyatt to consider it now despite his old words, but he’d rather be grieved over a painful sacrifice than be sympathised by the capitol citizens because he had to watch his friends die.
He’d mentioned something like this around the first couple days training. A long and painful death was the last thing he had wanted at the time, but now he had them. Haymitch, Maysilee and Lou Lou. A weird family he suddenly knew he would put himself forward against any form of torture the capitol wanted to give them as long as it meant they were spared. He didn’t need to calculate the odds to know the chances of that action.
The gears of the arena suddenly churned and quickly his dark eyes moved over the heads of remaining kids to Maysilee and Haymitch, so far away yet so easy to spot despite all their matching outfits. Maysilee’s hands were curled into tight fists with her nails digging crescents into the skin of her palm. However, she wasn’t looking down like Wyatt had nor was her attention much else, except from all from the opposite side of the arena, she was looking directly at Wyatt. He knew that look well now, and he felt worried.
She had that determined look she got when there was a goal in mind. Survival, Wyatt no doubt knew. What had him worried instead, was who did she determine to survive?
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Wyatt threw back his stinging fist with a wince, his heart racing so loudly the canons of the arena deafened. A tribute dressed in white and yellow stumbled back with a sword in hand and gave the young boy enough time to wipe away the fear of dying for just a bit longer. His own feet stumbled back, the hills of this arena had been up and down to the point of annoyance. He dared a quick glance behind him to the young girl's frightened eyes. It was better for her to witness a possible broken nose then the slaughter going on behind her.
“Lou Lou, get out of here- run!” Wyatt yelled out, turning his attention back to Panache as he groaned and got back up onto his feet, hoping the sounds of footsteps scurrying away were hers. He had no idea what kind of strength came out of him, he couldn’t really keep up with mining on the daily. But that sudden adrenaline was dissipating by the second, and Panache’s eyes glinted like fire as he tightened the grip of his sword.
A step too slow and the sword slashed down, thought sloppily from the throbbing pain in Panache’s nose. Unfortunately for Wyatt he wasn’t exactly the best at combat, so he had to welcome the deep cut into the forearms of his skin as he held them up in a cross, having cut through the tarp so smoothly he was surprised to still have his arms.
Wyatt’s body struggled to figure out what next. The fighting had lessened behind him, but he had a gut feeling the second he would turn to run, the view of the cornucopia would be the last thing he saw. Panache didn’t look like he wanted to give up just yet, ignoring the blood dripping from his nose as he used both hands to grab the handle of the sword to lift up. The tall boy lifted it half way and Wyatt knew how he was going to swing, an unfamiliar instinct kicking in and he found himself dropping to the ground just as the sword swung inches past his head.
“You little shit!” Panache growled, mouth open to breath with his broken nose. Blood stained the yellow of his shirt. By now they’d shuffled closer to the centre of the arena, bodies lay around in different combinations with white. The sun highlighted the metal of the sword as it was once again raised high to kill.
“Panache!” a voice called out from behind Wyatt to gain the taller boy's attention. Wyatt didn’t need to see to know who it was, but it was far in the distance. The second Panache hesitated a blow dart suddenly shot by, missing Panache’s body but not without scratching the skin of his bicep with a rich purple stain. Whatever was in those darts it seemed enough to knock Panache off balance, dizzying him so quickly Wyatt worried the sword was gonna fall and kill him either way.
Panache fluttered his eyes again and again, fighting off mysterious side effects well enough that the sword refused to leave his hands. He switched to holding it with his left, holding the handle loosely but ready to still swing. Wyatt felt his throat go dry when he realised he couldn’t dodge a low swing while on the ground still, and his arms still stung from the previous hit. Quickly patting the grass around him he found the first object small enough to fit his fingers around, holding it angled above his head.
Wyatt squeezed his eyes shut as Panache let out a sore shout, using the last of his strength to swing the sword in Wyatt’s direction. Panache’s body fell to the movement of the sword as the effects kicked in, metal clinked against the weapon in Wyatt’s hand before it fell with a soft thump. The same couldn’t be said about Panache’s body. He hit the ground already unconscious the same time Wyatt chose to open his eyes, a long dagger being the saviour in his hand.
Wyatt sat there as he caught his breath, dropping the dagger into the grass like it burned his fingers. Panache breathed heavily laying there unconscious next to him, but Wyatt hoped the blood staining the bottom half of his face to his collarbones would drive away any other potential predators hoping to kill him. Then again, how easy would it be to take him out? He couldn’t help but think of his smug attitude, how he targeted Lou Lou right from the start. If he had killed her then.. Wyatt didn’t like how he might have reacted.
So he took a good look at the boy and inched closer. Wyatt wasn’t strong, he still didn’t know (or believe) where the power for that punch had come from, but if Panache was too weak to fight back then how hard would it be? He could choke him out if he was lucky, save him from targeting Lou Lou or the others again. He’d be saving them, right?
Yet just as his fingertips brushed the warmth of Panache’s skin, he immediately pulled back, shuffling a few feet away from his unconscious body in a panic. What the hell was he thinking? This wasn’t something he could do. He couldn’t kill a kid, even in the face of survival he doesn’t think it was right for him. He wanted to prove to the capitol they were human, not animals. He’d just be like the ones he’d watch on the televised screens in his district, the same ones he looked at in disappointment as they slaughtered someone.
Wyatt lifted his head to the sky, knowing somewhere up in the fake clouds there was one camera on him. It wouldn’t fix anything, he knew they’d all be dead sooner or later.
But Wyatt wanted to try. Even if he could change one person's mindset about the games then he would be happy, because that one person could be the catalyst to the end of the river of blood. Getting up onto his feet he carefully slipped the sword from Panache’s hand to claim it as his own. Call it a gift for sparing his life a little longer.
“Wyatt!” the voice from before was closer. He used his free hand to move the hair from his eyes to finally see her, giving a tired yet grateful smile to Maysilee Donner. She looked just as rough as him, new scratches and dirt dotting her skin and clothes. He was about to speak before more footsteps ran up the hill to them, Lou Lou was completely unaware of the dead bodies as she jumped over them to reach Wyatt’s arms. The boy crouched down to embrace her tightly. He felt like he had a million questions over how and why they were back at the cornucopia.
Wyatt glanced up at Maysilee and noticed Haymitch had joined them too, hands full of bags he managed to collect from the start. Did they come back for him? He was sure he saw Haymitch run right away at the start, but here he was, concerned eyes set on the injury of his arms. Standing up straight after leaving the hug he had to ask what they were doing here.
Haymitch dropped the bags safely by his feet, pulling Wyatt by the top of his cloak into another hug with such force Wyatt almost tripped. “Long story short, Lou Lou found Maysilee who found me and.. Well, we couldn’t leave you behind.” He gave the boy a tight squeeze, an underlying message in his touch that Wyatt surprisingly found himself understanding. Haymitch was sorry, he could feel it in the way the brunette buried his head in Wyatt’s neck. He was sorry for leaving him to fight alone, and as was Maysilee too. Wyatt felt her hand snake into his while Haymitch practically cocooned him.
Wyatt dropped the sword to have a free hand to hug Haymitch back despite the ache in his arms. Whatever strength he had gathered was all but gone now that he was in the safe arms of his friends.
But as he buried his head into someone's chest, he tried to ignore the dread forming in his stomach at reuniting with his friends. He knew what this would mean, he watched this exact scene play out almost every year. Wyatt wasn’t sure if they knew too, if they could feel the cameras burning into their last moment of happiness. As he glanced at the girl next to him he noticed Maysilee still had that look of survival in her eyes. She knew too, didn’t she? Hell, there’s a chance Maysilee might have been ready to sacrifice herself right from the start.
Wyatt wasn’t sure what to think of it. Maysilee was dear to him now, perhaps one of the closest friends he’s ever had despite only knowing her personally for a week. He’d do anything to make sure she lived, but if she was just like him? If she was prepared to die for the others too? He couldn’t change her mind, only because he doesn't think he’ll change his own.
Wyatt readied himself to take whatever button the capitol was ready to press. He wasn’t going to let himself be the only one to survive what comes next, not if it meant the only people he loved could have a chance to live. He and Maysilee shared a knowing look, speaking a silent goodbye to each other before one of them soon died. It’ll be their own little secret, one they’ll be taking to the grave together.