FAILURE TO COMPLY ┃ f. odair

2.3 love and loss

No word from President Snow was equally terrifying as it was comforting. After her display in District Eleven, Calypso's guilt and paranoia about his threats to her father had grown tenfold. In the height of her grief, it had meant little, but now she'd seen to it and Poet and Grove had both made it safely home, her mind was not quite so clouded.

Following Seven and Six, they'd skipped Five on her victory tour and were headed for District Four next. It was the one she'd been dreading the most, simply for the thought of having to face Finnick again after killing his sister and then completely ignoring him for six months when he was probably in the depths of his grief.

But then, Roman coughed. He'd coughed at the dinner table, then on the sofa, then when headed to bed. By the time the morning came, his health had only declined to the point he had a fever. Calypso, though in the back of her mind she knew she was overreacting, was all but convinced that it was her doing. Somehow, just as he said it would be, Snow had made her father suffer for her act of defiance in Eleven

"How do you feel?" she asked her father. She'd been in and out of his room every ten minutes to make sure he was still alive, and he was growing tired of it.

"The same as I did when you last asked, honey," he replied with a deep sigh, placing a hand on his forehead. He was lying in his bed but half-tempted to get up and push her out of the room. Even so, it was nice to know that she still cared about him, if not loved him. "Why don't you go and spend some time with Monica or your Aunt Millie? She's missed spending time with you."

And so have I, he thought. She was an adult, but it didn't change the fact he liked their lives better when she was still under his roof. It was a time when he was able to understand her better. Perhaps they'd never been emotionally vulnerable with each other after first losing Priya, but there was more distance now than there had ever been. It was easier when he was the only traumatised one.

"Well, right now I'd rather focus on making sure you don't die."

"I'm not dying, Cal, I'm just sick," he reiterated, closing his eyes in frustration. "I don't know what has made you think-"

"Snow threatened to kill you!" she blurted out. "He threatened you to keep me in line, and I stepped out of line anyway because I didn't think he would actually do anything! And now he's probably poisoned you! You're a victor! Why would he do this?!"

"Calypso... Calypso!" Roman spoke over the young woman, trying his best to interrupt her paranoid frenzy. Sitting up and moving to the end of the bed, he pulled her to sit down next to him. "Snow hasn't touched me! I'm just sick! Stop panicking!"

Calypso closed her eyes, and suddenly she was back in the District Five apartment within the Tribute Centre, of all places, with Payton threatening her and her tribute friends. It was a memory that was so menial compared to her other traumas, but in a way, it was the beginning of it all.

"Calypso."

It wasn't real. Payton was dead, and she knew that for certain because on some days she would once again taste his blood when she drank or ate. It wasn't real, and she was actually on the train with her father on the way to District Four.

The games were over. They had to be.

"Calypso..."

"I know," she whispered in reply. Roman's body was far too warm, but it kept Calypso enclosed in a way she hadn't experienced in years. She felt like a little girl again being held so securely by him. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he sighed. The man chuckled lightly as he rubbed a hand up and down her back. "Now I know how you felt trying to comfort me after my nightmares. It's not a good side to be on."