𝐆𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐘 & 𝐆𝐎𝐑𝐄. ᵀᴴᴳ[1]

20

          AS THE WARM BREEZE BLEW IN THROUGH THE LIVING ROOM WINDOW, IT MADE SAGE STIR ON THE COUCH UNTIL HE FINALLY OPENED HIS EYES. It had been three weeks since he made it out of the arena. Three weeks since he finally got home. Three weeks since he fulfilled his promise of winning and coming home.  The three weeks that had passed felt like they had aged him a few years. Despite the dissolved graft on his leg, he couldn't but feel a phantom pain with every step he took. He had gotten into the habit of avoiding Ella's fingers from touching the back of his head where he knew the metal disk had been placed. It wasn't obvious, it didn't leave an obvious raised bump like he thought it did. But if you felt closely, you could feel the edges of the plate. He had only just begun walking Katniss and Prim to and from school again, he had only just started to allow himself to be seen by District Twelve. And he had even taken his sister's to the Hob again, where Katniss picked out a new pair of shoes, and Prim a new set of watercolor paints. Sage had just begun to feel normal again during the day. 

Nighttime was a different story. 

       The first few nights back in Twelve, he had been so exhausted that he didn't dream. At least not that he could remember, but the longer he was there, the more vivd they became. Sometimes he was on stage with Caesar Flickerman, blinded by lights but surrounded by no cheering. The rerun of his games were the only thing he could hear. Sometimes his hands were holding Watt under the water, or sometimes he was covered with the snakes. Sometimes he was watching the games in Twelve, watching Deedee get covered by the nest of snakes– her screams silenced the square where everyone watched the young girl die while Sage survived. But the worst dreams were the ones of Marena and watching her die over and over again, and Sage just couldn't get to her. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't reach her. The only dreams he had that didn't make him wake up sweating were the ones where he was dead– whether by the hands of Marena or the mutts, if he was dead the dream would just turn black and Sage found it peaceful.

"Sage?"

Sage cranned his head to look over the arm of the couch, just to see his father standing before him. 

"Couldn't sleep last night?" he questioned, his father stepped up beside the couch and lowered himself onto the edge of the coffee table. Pushing the bottle of whiskey aside a bit, but not bringing any attention to it this time. Two weeks after Sage had been home, his father had questioned Sage's method of falling asleep and the conversation didn't go the way he had wanted it to. 

Sage shrugged, "Not upstairs." Sage replied simply. Sage had convinced himself that the worst dreams always came when he was in his own room. Probably because that was where he about killed Prim when she woke him up from one. 

"Well, I heard Katniss already getting ready in the girls' room." he pointed out.

Sage sighed heavily, beginning to prop himself up on the couch. "Can't you take her?" Sage questioned, "Or stop be the Hawthornes' and see if Ella would-"