𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭, 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝- Finnick Odair

𝐯.

𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭, 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫: 𝐯.

Beatrice and Gloss were the first to roll out, earning roars of approval from the crowd. The applause was deafening and even despite years of dealing with the fame that came from being a victor, the loudness of it frightened Beatrice. She clutched at Gloss's hand, trying to ignore the noise as she smiled and waved with her free hand. She remembered sitting with Sarrel one day when she was sixteen, looking out at the Training Center, where her first tributes were gaining the skills to kill.

Sometimes, she had told him, this little girl of 16 years, sometimes, when I hear the applause, I think it's cannons. And I wonder when the hovercraft is going to come and take away the body. And then nothing happens and I start to wonder if I'm the body, and it's looking for me. If I actually died when District Two attacked me.

She was sure she had frightened Sarrel. If she had heard Gloss or Cashmere speak like that after their games, she would have been afraid.

At least she had enough sense to never tell Sarrel the worst part. About the dreams that still  sometimes hit her, waking her up in the dead of night, sweating and shaking and sobbing, feeling the stabs of a hundred knives even after she had woken up.

The worst thing the District Two tributes could have done was leave her. They thought she would die. They hoped she would die. She didn't.

District Twelve was the last to roll. Beatrice watched with wide eyes as their black jumpsuits lit up with fire, glowing red and orange and beautiful. "Holy hell," Gloss said softly.

Beatrice let out a weak laugh. "I- - I think Pista got beat."

Gloss nodded. "I think you're right."

"Katniss! Katniss! Katniss!" the crowd screamed.

The Morphlings looked completely transfixed.

By the time the chariots finished their loop, Beatrice was shaking. Gloss took her hand, helping her out of the chariot. "You okay?" he asked as he took in the stunned look on her face.

She nodded.

Sarrel was quick to come to her rescue, slinging an arm around her shoulders. "Come on, Bea," he said. "Let's get you something to drink, okay?"

She wasn't sure why she was shaking so badly even when they reached the suite and Sarrel poured her a glass of something that burned when she took a sip.

"You'll need allies this time around," Sarrel noted as they settled for dinner.

Beatrice flinched despite herself at the word. "I'll have Gloss," she said in a soft voice that didn't sound her own.