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trigger warning: mention of su!cide, parent death, mention of mizzen death
HOME, THOUGHT CARI AS SHE STEPPED OFF THE TRAIN. It wasn't home the place she meant, rather the feeling. She hadn't felt it in years, yet in District Seven the very beginnings of it could be felt. Her breathing was easier, vision clearer.
This was Treech's home, Lamina's too. Somewhere amongst all the trees laid two plots of fresh dirt, their bodies buried in whatever rituals District Seven used to say goodbye. Maybe that's why the Dean told her she would see him again.
A peacekeeper awaited her, rifle clutched close to himself as he greeted her. "Araucaria Finch?" She nodded. "I'll be escorting you to where you'll be staying." He gestured to the armored peacekeeper vehicle behind him.
Araucaria nodded once more. She hadn't felt too talkative in a while.
The ride to the home she would be staying was short and quiet, her companion stoic and silent, only speaking to ask if she wanted the window open.
She said yes, finding the car to be stifling.
Mere moments later they arrived where she would be staying. It was a humble house, white washed wood planks creating the small quarters. A gravel driveway led to the front steps, sided by rain soaked grass.
The man who accompanied her removed her bag from the car, placing it next to her outside the house. He gave a firm nod, and was gone.
Nice to meet you too. Cari shook off his impassiveness. After her little breakdown in the arena, who was she to judge how people showed their emotions?
Stepping forward, Cari rapped her knuckles on the door. Would she be living with someone? The Dean hadn't said.
There was a long silence, as she knocked once more, this time garnering heavy footsteps from somewhere in the house.
Not eager to be hit by the door, she scurried back off the porch to her bag. A curly head of hair poked out of the door, cautious in doing so.
Realizing whoever knocked was out of view, the door opened wider, revealing the boy who lived there.
Treech.
But that wasn't possible. Treech had died, she had seen it; she had mourned him.
Yet here was a boy identical to him, knife in hand as he stared back at her, eyes wide. In an instant he dropped the knife to the ground, running to her and sweeping her into his arms.
"Cari...you came...I thought I wouldn't see you again." His voice was muffled, head resting atop hers as he spoke.
She was frozen, not embracing him back. She had truly lost her mind. In the week after Mizzen was taken away, she had convinced herself she was better, that she wouldn't slip up again.
