DaveJade

Hunger Games one-shot

Blood and Sucide Tw:

You're in a haze- what happened anyway? You can't remember it all so you settle with sitting up at the very least- white hot pain flashes though your body for a moment as your thin arms harshly push your lithe body up- well that is not the word you'd actually use no that would much rather describe someone else but maybe you should indulge in some small irony- in reality you're rather wiry and awkward no matter how cool you act using the height and stiff posture as indifference. You look down- it's a mess it say the least, crude bandages of what you can only assume were stolen or composed of some ripped up clothing it covers god knows what- no wonder she'd left you- you were stabbed right? Though crude you seem to have clotted most of the wound but still it mist be oozing blood down there of course bruises pepper your arms and torn clothes you've had though out this game  It's still rather hard to grasp but you're knee deep in bullshit and you remember blood and running until your knees buckled- shit she must have been pretty strong to get you here- wait where the fuck is she? You were bleary eyed but still no rustling in this small cave just your rough breathing. You pull the rest of you body up- she left your blade with you- how sweet, that's not the point though- there clearly weren't enough hiding places and well that would suck if your own actions caused her death after all. Naturally you allow yourself to access you damage- it hurts but you'll face that later, and then you do everything you shouldn't do- you walk towards the entrance- you have a crude and rather loud rhythm as you do each step softly echoing, now you're really a dead man.

And somehow you don't meet metal once you look out- it's dim with a dying sun painting everything crimson- well everything that wasn't already painted the horrid color. You don't spare a glance to the left but you here loud heaves from the right- it's a girl- please don't be some psyco who'll eat you for lunch and use you bones as a bludgeon to stab some poor kid like Egbert.  It's her alright- you feel some elation at this- damn you must be pathetic you're most certainly dead- after all you can't kill her- or anyone else in the damned place. Too bad you can't just wait it out.

You find yourself making a horrible mistake- she isn't a mistake but god this whole mess makes and move you make a downright mistake on you're part. You stumble towards her- it hurts like a bitch but she doesn't look too good- you stop a few feet in front of her in shock after all now you can really see what's happened.

"Harley?" You ask tentatively- she's leaning  with one arm wrapped around a bloody stomach-  on that the sight of makes your's turn and bile form in your through- the other with tightly gripping her rifle with white knuckles. Her body is bent in to hold whatever her wounds extremities entail and that black wavy hair a stiff mess as blood cover it- and everything else- in fact blood is dripping down her dark arm and forming a long red trail though the landscape- her eyes are wide behind those circular glasses with now cracked lenses.

"Dave?" She wheezes as you get close enough to really see her face- it in pain- clearly but it hurts knowing a good girl like her ended up like this- face contorted in agony and breaths quick in panic as she must have done her best to run to you in this state. 

"Oh-oh my god. What the fuck happened?" You blurt out- she sways a bit a light wind pushes by," Hold that wound- I know you can do it yourself and in fact you keep saving my own ass but let me do this for you." She slightly nodded and seems to hold if tighter letting a fresh rush of blood encase her arm. You pick her up off of her feet because god help your sorry ass when she gets better you're not letting her do this alone- it's like shes been reduced to a fragile flower snapped by the wind that once was steel. She gasps- wow way to go call that pained release of breath  in the sudden change of posture a gasp, and yet though it all she still holds that tight grip on the rifle.