𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 | 𝑭𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒄𝒌 𝑶𝒅𝒂𝒊𝒓

𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍.

Tony and Lois.

On the train ride back to District 9, Kit was sober, or at least sober enough that his eyes weren't glazed over and he didn't stumble every other step. That was good enough for Rosie.

"What are you stealing, Rosie?" Kit asked, a tea with a splash of whiskey sat in his hand.

Kit had a slither of hope reinstilled in his life, he made a difference that was a net positive, something he hadn't done in decades. He had talked to rich assholes he once did everything to avoid, making sure he got Rosie something she could use to catch food, it was something she could use again and again—it was better than one piece of food. He didn't join Haymitch in his drunk and disorderly behaviour, despite wanting to, especially after Toby's death. He stayed focused on someone other than himself and a bottle of alcohol.

Rosie pulled out a placemat and began stacking pastries on it, getting ones Orion, her Uncle and Jess would like.

"I'm taking compensation for life-ruining trauma," She smiled at him and tied off the piece of material. She then sat it on the chair she occupied next to Kit, and grabbed another piece, the plates rattled as she yanked it out from underneath roughly. She took yet more, but she decided against taking a third batch, she had quite the selection, and she made sure Jess' whole family could also have some. While they were better off than Rosie, they were by no means rich—it wasn't hard to be better off than Rosie's family.

The worry that, when she got back, no one would want anything to do with her due to the violent acts they've seen her commit, that they now know she is capable of committing, would taint the Rosie they knew so much they couldn't see past them.

She'd be Rosie the Victor and not Rosie the person.

"I also need to warn you about the only other Victor from District 9." Kit looked at Rosie, worry creased between his eyebrows. "She's called Lois, she's about one-hundred and seventy but she's a witch, I swear. The old bat is evil. You think I was a bad Mentor—"

"To be fair, you did tell me to eat so much I died. That didn't fill him with hope."

"I did say that. But, Lois told me to throw myself off the train, she even held the window open. Then, after I won, she told me she was annoyed that the girl from District 2 didn't win. She's also freaky to look at." He looked amusingly traumatised. Traumatised from an old lady. "She lives at the entrance, so I claimed the house right at the back, I avoid the witch at all costs, you should too."

Rosie sat back and rolled her eyes, "She'll be fine. Old people love me."

"Lois loves no one. I saw her before she got super old, kick a dog. Who kicks dogs?" He pinched the bridge of his nose as if the mere thought of Lois stressed him out.

"What year did she win?" Rosie asked, eating a sausage roll, dipping it in copious sauce.

"Sixteenth." Rosie would swear up and down she saw Kit shiver.

"So she doesn't have any family, kids, friends, husband, wife?" Rosie asked, confused as to how someone has no one—but, then again, she did kick dogs.

A cold expression washed over Kit's face and he pulled a flask from the table beside him, he flicked off the top and downed the contents. Then he looked at Rosie, his eyes seemingly void of emotion—it unsettled Rosie, the silence, the need to drink before he spoke, the coldness behind his eyes. "Just about every Victor loses everyone they love. Mysterious poisonings happen frequently, sometimes they are found guilty of crimes they'd never commit, and other times they go missing. Occasionally they'll come home to find the bodies of their family strewn around their house, their brains blown out across the carpet, blood splattered against the walls."