Cataclysm

2.5

It was dark, and Joel had left suddenly with Aaron, for reasons Leo didn't understand - he didn't particularly care, either, unless it would somehow affect him or Braken.

He was up on the roof now, unable to sleep. His body begged for rest, but he couldn't relax. He didn't like this place. Besides, every time he closed his eyes, he saw someone burning, or felt Howell's tight, possessive hands. No, he'd stopped sleeping after that.

Now, his nights were mostly passed by staring - staring at anything. For now, it was the stars. He'd missed seeing the stars. They were so beautiful up there, shining brightly. No one was close to them, and yet they were part of something far bigger than themselves. He wanted to be a star.

He shivered in the chilly wind, and formed a ball of warm fire in his hand, holding it close in an effort to warm up. Words to an old song filled his mind, and he began to sing softly to himself.

"My shadow is my only friend,
Only one on whom I can depend.
He travels in every step I take,
Never condemns me for my mistakes.
He can see the pain the lives in me."

"That's pretty," someone said, and Leo jumped. The owner of the voice poked his head above the roof edge, revealing dark eyes and bright blue hair. "Hey. Can't sleep, either?"

"Is this your spot?" Leo asked quickly, starting to stand up. "I'll leave, then. Sorry."

"No, you can stay." The stranger's expression was hard to read. "As long as you don't mind me being up here with you."

Leo started to move, but then hesitated. "Alright," he said slowly, relighting the fire in his palm.

"You're Tristam, right?"

He glanced over. "Yeah."

"Is it ... Leo. That's your name." The stranger smiled brightly. "Nice to meet you, Leo. I'm Sky." He held out his hand, and Leo awkwardly shook it.

"Are you an Unnatural?" he asked softly.

"Gifted, yeah." Sky nodded and looked up at the stars.

"Let me guess," Leo said, rather cynically, "something to do with air or the sky."

Sky laughed. "No, actually, though that'd be nice. My Gift is controlling the water." He rested his hand on a patch of ice on the roof, and it slowly traveled up his arm and formed into little shapes. "I can't change the phases, though. If it's ice, it'll stay ice."

"That's cool," Leo muttered, returning his gaze to the camp below.

The stranger next to him remained silent, playing with the ice as if it was a soft ball of dough. Leo glanced over at him multiple times. Why was someone so comfortable around him so soon? Nobody was like that. Everyone had seen him in the games. They knew how deadly he was. The only one who didn't seem to care was Braken, and he'd fit in at the Refuge almost instantly. Why was it that the silent boy could get along with others easier than he could? It was infuriating.

He hated being mad at Braken. After all, the younger Unnatural could tell almost instantly when he was, and it wasn't his fault. Deep down, Leo knew it was his own. It was his own fault.

Leo glanced over at Sky again, only to meet the other's gaze awkwardly and blush in embarrassment. "So where'd you come from?" he asked, not necessarily because he wanted to know, but he felt he needed to say something.

"Same place as everyone. Broken families and shattered dreams. And you - you're from the games."

You're from the games. He was from the games. He'd let the games take him. He'd submitted to them, to Howell, and let them shape who he was. Braken, on the other hand, wasn't "from the games." He was his own person. He never let anything stop him. Leo wished he could be like that.