Light Em Up (oc x oc)

II - Nova

A/N a warning there will be TON references throughout the rest of this book, no major spoilers but if you're particular about it, here is the warning for y'all in black and white.

"Nico?"

"Merda. I thought you were Will."

"Do you want me to go?"

"Nah. I should probably go. It's your cabin, after all." Nico hurries out into the night without another word to me.

I sigh, reaching for my poetry book and curling up on my bunk. The only blank page is the one where Michael and I stapled an old Polaroid of us after my first capture the flag game. I wish it was still that simple.

The others file in cheerily laughing. Gracie climbs onto her bunk above mine, talking animatedly to Kayla. I write a little more, finishing the book. Will pass over.

"It's finished?"

"My anthology is done, yes."

"Are you gonna let anyone read it?"

"No. I'm going outside to burn it."

"What?"

"You heard me."

I walk out, toward the fire pit. In the darkness, I just summon a little bit of all my sadness and light spills out from between my fingers, lighting the way to the amphitheater. It's empty, and sad, and devoid of life. I keep an eye out for the harpies, although in the hundreds of time I've pulled stunts like this I have never gotten in trouble. I think there might be a separate clause for crazies.

The embers in the fire pit still glow a little. I kneel down beside it, book in hand. I drop it into the center of the light, and coax a little flame. I watch months of work go up in smoke, but don't feel anything. It always used to get a rise of emotion out of myself, but now, it's just hollow emptiness. Maybe I need to go find myself some good old-fashioned trauma.

I don't know how long I sit there, slowly freezing, but by the time I think I could go back to the cabin, the sun starts peeking over the hilltops. Just another sleepless night, then. Maybe I did drift off sometime in the night, but I don't think it did me any good.

The next morning, Will tries to stop me sitting on the edge of the bench, so I'm sandwiched between him and Austin. It's clear they're really trying, and I think I might be inclined to let them try a little more. Yesterday's little let out of the pent up nothing helped, I think.

"You up for Infirmary duty with me?" Jerry asks kindly at an elbow from Austin.

"I'm running the archery class today," I smile. "Thank you, though."

"Don't worry," Will says. "I'll take it. You go. Besides, you look exhausted. I wouldn't want you accidentally getting impaled."

"So you want her committing medical negligence instead?"

"Kayla," he warns.

Kayla shrugs. "Whatever."

Jerry and I walk to the infirmary, bringing a stack of pancakes for the girl who still lies in there. I grab a pen and a sheet of paper and start scrawling some notes, my chickenscratch writer's handwriting looking like a right mess next to Kayla's calligraphy. He busies himself tidying up whatever was left in here, and I fold the newly laundered spare clothes we keep meticulously stacked on the shelves in the corner. It's glorified busywork, but as most of us can't work with any kind of distractions, it needs doing.

"Hello?" whispers a hoarse voice from the corner. I skid over there. "Hello?"

"Hi," I smile. "You're safe now."