Battleborn

Heads or Tails

 He's gone.

 I sat outside under a tree in the rain, staring out at the expanse of land ahead. The sun hadn't appeared yet, and the dark was somewhat comforting. It made me think that perhaps Elliott was still around, that I just couldn't see him.  I was worried about him. Outside Thirteen, what is there for Elliott? I wondered. Where have you gone? Are you coming back?

 A few times when I was younger, Elliott ran away. He'd be gone a few days, a week at most. I'd sit outside each day and wait for him to return. He'd always come back, knees muddy and twigs stuck in his matted hair, but safe, and often glad to be back.

 This time was different. Elliott wasn't a child anymore. He was gone. Because of me, I suspected. But he knew what he was doing this time, I was sure. Even if none of us could figure out his plan, he'd know it himself. He was the only person who knew him, really. None of the rest of us ever got close. But it meant only he knew when his disappearing act would end. If ever.

  I sank my head into my hands. What if I never see him again? The last thing he'll know of me is my gun pressed to his head. Somehow, I felt like I'd betrayed him. I sighed. Even when he wasn't around, he wormed his way into my head. He could control my feelings, my emotions, my thoughts. And I resented it.

 "Mind if I join you?"

 Finch. His voice had startled me.I looked up and saw him. His blue hair was damp with the rain, his hands shoved in the pockets of some grey slacks. He only wore a black t-shirt on top.

 "You'll catch a cold! Doesn't it rain in the Capitol?" I said a little sharply. Finch shrugged. I sighed, taking the blanket I had around my legs and offering it to him. Finch sat down beside me, his back against the tree and took it. To my surprise, I felt it wrap around my shoulders and Finch huddled in closer, the pale skin of his arm pressed against my tanned one. The blanket was damp, but Finch's body was warm next to mine.

 "It took me a long time to find you," he told me "I had to ask your father to translate for your mother...she said you come out here a lot. To get some air...clear your thoughts."

 I nodded. It was the day after our trial, and Finch had already moved into our quarters. Originally, Father planned to have him sleep on the love seat in the main room, but with Elliott gone, it made sense for him to have the bed. I spent another sleepless night in Finch's presence, listening to him breathe. I'd always been a light sleeper. I'd taught myself to sleep with one eye open, in case Elliott took one of his turns for the worse and tried something in my sleep. Though Finch was a mouse to Elliott's lion, I felt too uneasy to rest. That's when I'd gone outside. I didn't mind the rain anyway.

 I felt Finch shift beside me, sighing a little.

 "It's so quiet here," he said.

 "I know. That's why I like it."

 "I'm not sure I like it yet. It's strange," Finch said "I'm not used to silence. Every night, I'd go to sleep with the sounds of the street in my ears. At the weekend, there'd be music all through the night. It would fill my dreams. This quiet is new to me."

 "You'll get used to it," I said "We're a quiet family. I mean, Mother of course...she doesn't make much noise," I said, chuckling a little, before feeling guilty "And Elliott was never much of a talker. Though if you like music, Uncle Drew sometimes sings. Mother used to play piano, but there aren't any here for her to play."

 "A shame. I would have liked to hear her. I bet she could sing too. Birds are born to sing, aren't they?" Finch said. I smiled sadly. But if Snow hears them sing too loud, they'll never sing again. But he can't stop them from flying.