BLOOD ON MY HANDS || Finnick Odair

thirteen; at first glance

⚠️⚠️⚠️THEME WARNING: involves  gore of the unprofessionally preformed surgical kind, non-descriptive vomiting, and non-description mentions of Lara's fucked up leg⚠️⚠️⚠️

Hands yanked him up onto his feet by the collar of his damp jacket just seconds later, forcing him to look away from the paling body now at his feet. It took a couple of shakes for Eden to actually look away from Flora, and he had to blink tears out of his eyes in order to actually see the other person in front of him.

Beau's face was both clear and blurry, though he knew it was from the tears that had flooded his eyes. There were slashes of grime across his face, likely from tree branches hitting him as he'd raced back from the woods, along with a layer of mist that make it looked as if his hair was full of dew drops. He had both hands on Eden's shoulders, and was forcing him to look him in the eye.

He hadn't even realized he was shaking.

Vaguely, he could remember one of the instructors back in training that this was a symptom of shock, but he couldn't quite process that quite yet. Honestly, he wasn't processing anything.

All he knew was that if he hadn't fallen for that stupid god damn fucking diversion the careers had set to draw him out of the cave—

"Are you listening to me," Beau asked him firmly, sounding mission oriented. "Because I need you to listen to me for this to work, do you understand."

He began to open his mouth to answer but realized that if he did he would just end up vomiting, so he simply nodded instead.

"Good. How long has in been since her cannon went off."

He blinked at him, uncomprehending.

"Eden; how long."

"Just, it's uh — just a couple minutes, I think...it was just before you got back, I know that..."

"Good." His expression turned to one of pity, and sorrow. "Go see how Lara is doing and pack everything up, then meet me back here."

As much as he wanted to argue, Beau didn't leave him much room or time to form one so he forced himself to move. He was stumbling into the cave with trembling limbs, forcing the lump in his throat to stay down so he wouldn't end up collapsing into breathless sobs again.

Lara was propped up against the cave wall, brows drawn together painfully with every muscle in her body taut. It looked as if she was using every ounce of strength her body possessed to keep herself upright, the exertion it took caused visible in the layer of sweat that covered her body.

At the sound of his footsteps forcing their way forwards her eyes snapped open. Briefly, she looked delirious. But she shook that look off her face and, wide eyed, looked up at him. "Is she okay? Flora? Is she—" but Lara seemed to process the look on his face and she slumped back against the wall. "Shit, oh my god shit, I told her to stay in here but she said she just wanted to see who it was and—"

"—how's your leg," Eden cut her off numbly, arms limp at his sides. "Do you need anything from he right now?"

She seemed to understand the topic change, and grimaced as she shook her head. "I'm pretty sure the only thing that can deal with this—" she gestured to her leg that, upon a closer look, displayed reddish coloured skin pulled tight around the injury "—is antibiotics, but we aren't getting those anywhere around here."

He didn't have the energy to answer so he just nodded, and knelt down on the ground beside the patch of ground him and Flora had been sleeping on just the night before. The only thing she'd left behind was a single elastic that she'd had on her wrist to keep her hair out of her face; it was the colour green that it had been when she'd been in her tribute interview.