The art of War

Chapter 13: "I always got your back."

Blake sat by himself in his large Victors Mansion. The years had passed by, seeing his sister die in the games, seeing his family withdraw from him. One by one he'd lost everything he'd once loved. He only saw them once a year for Deena's birthday. He loved her smile, how she jumped and danced and loved the world. But in his mind, it would always go back to the fact that one day she'd be old enough to be reaped and since she was his daughter, she'd be more likely to be reaped. A victor's child. He didn't want that fate for anyone. The tributes had come and gone and all of them had died, to bear the burden, to watch the people he was supposed to protect die so young it hurt him. But yet again that time was vastly approaching. A knock came at the door and he pushed himself up, untangling himself from the sheets he made his way to his door pushing it open, his mind in a haze as he tried his best to stop the pounding of his head and the blaring noise at the door. Upon opening it he saw the blinding brilliant smile of Sawyer Lightwood.

"Sawyer." Blake forced a smile his hand gripping the wooden door as his blue eyes settled on her. Sawyer was 15 this year, every year she was of age it scared the hell out of her father. Blake still remembered how much he depended on Bolt.

"Hey Blake, my dad wanted me to come over and tell you that my mum cooked breakfast and she's demanding that you attend." Sawyer informed him with a small giggle escaping her lips. Her eyes were so bright, so kind, she was unlike anyone Blake ever knew.

"I'll just get dressed and be right over. You can come in if you want." Blake tiredly replied turning away from Sawyer and he made his way up the stairs, he felt his body become rigid as he finally reached his bedroom, his mind was always clouded with visions of the games. Of Solar, not a day went by where he didn't think of Solar and Siren. He reached inside his medicine cabinet placing three pills in his mouth before he poured himself a glass of bourbon knocking back the pills. He then reached into his closet getting dressed. He didn't have the energy to do anything today but he had to make it through it. Once he made his way to Bolt's home, Blake was sitting out in the backyard with a cigarette hung between his lips.

"Why did you invite him here?" Emmi demanded to know looking at her husband with fury in her eyes. She thought Blake was a darling for the public, always a smile ready and charming words but she'd seen him at his worst, she'd seen him almost dead, convulsing due to an overdose that they didn't know if it was on purpose or not. She didn't want him influencing Sawyer. She couldn't understand why Bolt felt as if he needed to protect this boy.

"He's got no one." Bolt pointed out.

"He has a daughter, a brother, a sister in law, a father and a mother. He has a lot of family." Emmi hissed in a hushed tone.

"That's not the same thing." Bolt pointed out. "He doesn't want them to see him like this."

"We saw you in your worst and we still accepted and loved you for it. I don't get why he can't just do the same thing." Emmi once again commented coldly.

"He doesn't have the strength to stand this life alone. He's too kind to that. He needs support from someone and I intend to be the person to help him. What can I say? The kid grew on me." Bolt laughed lightly as his hands snaked around Emmi's waist pulling her against his body as he leaned down pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I love you."

"I know you do." Emmi sighed smiling as she peered up at him, her arms wrapped around his neck as she pulled him down kissing him sweetly. "Get everyone at the table, I love you too." Emmi whispered as she brushed past him as she began to put everything on the table. Bolt grinned making his way outside sitting down beside Bolt taking the cigarette from Blake's fingers and he took a drag of it.