FAILURE TO COMPLY ┃ f. odair

1.12 the death of innocence

Two days was more than long enough for Grove to be properly initiated into the alliance. His mentor had provided them with much needed water just as Finnick and Porter had been doing. Even so, food was scarce, if not non-existent. Considering it had been over a week, and they had no idea how expensive the gamemakers had made food, it left them having to suffer with empty stomachs.

They hadn't moved very far from where they'd first found Grove. Hopping from building to building with breaks in between was the best way to go, very slowly heading towards the centre of the arena again. Two days had passed with no deaths, and the people in the Capitol were surely getting bored. It would only be a matter of time before they were forced in that direction anyway.

Nights had only grown colder and colder, but they'd gotten a good system of keeping watch. Calypso took most of the shifts, with Grove doing almost as many. Despite her protests, it was Maisie that was left to sleep the most. Her two allies were on the same wavelength now, determined to see to it that the fourteen year old was the one that made it out.

A sound in the night made Calypso stir. Grove had taken watch an indeterminate number of hours before, giving her the opportunity to catch up on much needed rest. She almost ignored it, but then the sound came again, a subtle metallic clinking. And then a scream, cut off as it turned into a choke.

Her eyes shot open, turning to assess the situation of her allies. Grove, too, was sluggishly awakening, while Maisie had another figure towering over her, familiar to Calypso from the way she'd seen his silhouette against the light of the Capitol skyline.

"Payton!" she exclaimed, rolling into a kneeling position with knives poised in her hand. He had a thin chain wrapped around the fourteen year old's neck pulling her back right against his chest to put as much pressure as possible. Calypso could not attack, because it would surely mean Maisie's death. "Stop! Let her go!"

"Why?" he questioned with a hiss. "I kill her and I'm one step closer to getting out of here."

With a war cry, Grove swung his club upward, ready to smash it back down upon Payton. How quickly he'd turned from his pacifist ways when his friend was in danger. Payton aimed a hard shove with his shoulder, dragging Maisie with him. The boy from Seven went stumbling backwards... out of the window of the second floor they'd been sheltering in. No cannon sounded, but Calypso was now left alone to fight her nemesis.

With just that small window of opportunity, she struck at Payton with a knife, catching a small nick in his side. Once again, the chain tightened, Maisie whimpered and wheezed, struggling desperately against the hold. She threw all her body weight forward to bring them closer to the ground, reaching for her spear, but he just pulled them back again.

"I said stop!" Calypso urged, breezing past him again and delivering a slice to his cheek this time. "You can kill me if you really want but you don't have to kill her!"

"I think I'll have both," he growled. Maisie's face was turning blue. "I've been looking for you all week, and I'm not letting either of you go now. I know you won't run while I have her."

She was so desperate. She was so very desperate to see him dead and see Maisie safe and healthy. Following Grove's example, Calypso ran for the pair of tributes in front of her, colliding with their bodies and sending all three of them tumbling over. He hadn't accounted for her desperation, expecting an approach much more careful. Maisie was freed from Payton's grip, colliding with the far side wall with a harsh and pained breath.

"Piece of shit," Calypso seethed, straddling the boy to keep him held down. She stabbed at both his wrists with her knives, making him cry out in pain.

He kicked and elbowed, hitting her in the gut and face, and she hardly had the physical strength to match him. It was a battle of anger, nothing in the world but the two opposing forces from District Five. Payton pushed away across the ground, reaching for a sword he'd discarded when using the chain instead, but if there was one thing Calypso had over him, it was speed. One more knife was dispatched from her belt, landing squarely between his shoulder blades.

A coward, but a deadly one. With several wounds sustained, there was little more he could do than retreat. His descent down the stairs was unceremonious and bloody, leaving a trail behind him. Calypso, exhausted and aching herself, let him go, silently vowing that she would hunt him down after making sure her friends were fine.

"Caly-" Maisie voiced from behind. The way she'd said it, cut off by a pained sound, was far too familiar. Poet had called out for her in the same way during the bloodbath. "Calypso. I'm hurt."

When Calypso turned around, it took her a moment to see past the red anger that had been consuming her. Maisie was sitting against the wall, balancing precariously and uncomfortably. Her face was scared, but deceivingly neutral. As her eyes travelled downward, the older girl saw it... the thin metal pipe protruding from the wall behind, and straight through her stomach.

"Grove! Help!" Calypso cried out desperately, falling to her knees by the girl. Hot tears were burning her eyes like acidic liquid not meant to be there. Her hands hovered over Maisie's cheeks, not daring to touch that pained, screaming expression after she'd been the one who caused it. "Grove! Please!"

"Calypso," Maisie whimpered, her hands braced on the wall behind her to try and steady her body. Any movement and she'd be in unimaginable pain. "Help me. Please help me."

"It's ok," the older girl tried to soothe. She moved closer until Maisie was able to rest her head on Calypso's shoulder, their arms going around each other. Her hand came to rest on the young girl's hair, the comforting hold of an ally, turned protector, turned friend, turned - something akin to - sister. "It's alright. You're alright. I'll try and get you off, ok? Finnick will send us some supplies, and we'll get you patched up."

She shifted them backwards just a centimetre, and a scream erupted from the girl, ear-piercing and heart-shattering. A sob escaped Calypso's throat, a sound she hadn't heard from herself in years.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, placing a kiss on her temple. No cannon had yet sounded, so their male ally either ran away, was unconscious from his fall, or was now in a scrap with Payton. It didn't matter. The girls were alone, held in an embrace that kept them safe enough. "I'm sorry. You're ok. We'll get you help. Grove!"

"There is no help," Maisie cried quietly. Her hands shook as they clutched Calypso tightly, just glad to not be alone in her final moments. "I'm going to die, aren't I?"

"No," she urged. One of her hands went to the metal pipe, feeling around for how much blood was oozing. "You're not bleeding that bad. We can get you off and get you patched up."

"I don't want to hurt," Maisie replied. Hands still trembling, she reached for one of the knives on her friend's belt. "I don't want to hurt just to bleed out anyway. There's no saving me."

"Maisie..." Calypso pleaded, just sounding more and more desperate the more she tried to reason with the girl. But she didn't take the knife away. Maisie held it over her heart, but couldn't keep her hand steady enough for a strike. "Ok, let me do it. Just relax."

Finnick would kill her, she was sure. Whether or not she made it out of the arena, her death was now just as guaranteed as Maisie's was. In her hand, the knife was still. The two met eyes as she angled it for a quick and clean stab. With her other hand, she reached into her pocket and pulled out an item she had all but forgotten about in the frenzy of the games.

"You're going home now, ok?" she reassured the girl, placing the silver coin of two intertwined fishes in the palm of her tiny hand. Unity and protection: the foundations of their short-lived relationship. Maisie continued her quiet weeping, though nodded against Calypso's shoulder where she was neatly tucked. "You're going home."

"I'm going home," she echoed. "I'm going home."

Silence. The world went silent save for Calypso's whimpering sobs. Maisie became a dead weight against her, and warm blood trickled from the wound onto her guilty hand. The knife slid free, and more blood flowed. She let it coat her, let it burn her skin just as she deserved. There was nothing now. No games, no life beyond them and no death either as she'd intended.

There was just Maisie and her corpse, and a single boom echoing through the empty skies.