Whispers In The Dark (Marik/Nico)

[Noah Vau - D2 (Cato)]

It's hard to move and even think in the moment. The room is white, and part of me wonders if I'm dead. The lights are bright, blinding, and every once in a while I see people waking around, sometimes they stop next to me, other times they just keep moving. It makes me wonder what's going on, but I can't move to ask them. Sometimes I hear machines beeping rapidly, and other times they're beeping slowly. It's hard to tell what's normal and what's not, but I know if the machines are beeping rapidly and loudly, everything goes dark, and I assume I'm drifting back into a dreamland. Only it isn't a dreamland because it's dark like a room without any lights on, and I can hear everything going on around me. It just doesn't seem real and all of it sounds distorted. Until it goes quiet. I've never understood what it's like to be forced to go asleep, but now I've learned, and I hope to never experience it again.

I open my eyes again, and this time a lot of people are gathered around me, and I'm not sure what is going on. But nobody is moving around me, nobody is talking. I sit up in the bed and look around the white room trying to figure everything out when someone finally sits down beside me. "Ah, Marik, you're awake." All I can do is nod my head because in this moment words are hard and they make very little sense when I try forming them in my mind. "You're safe. You're back in the Capitol. The games have completed." He tells me things that I already know, but it shows me that I'm not stuck in a dream, and that I am alive. I didn't die. I nod my head again as I listen to the rhythmic beeping of a machine nearby. "We're just monitoring your vitals and making sure that they stay within normal range. We want to make sure everything has stabilized before you get to roam around." I just nod my head again. It's easier to do than to try and speak.

I just roll over in bed, though. I don't really want to talk to anyone who works here because they won't understand. They can't understand what it feels like being alive after murdering others. But I know a few people who will understand. Well, more than a few. Every victor understands the feeling of being alive. I want to speak with them. I want to talk to them because I just need advice and want to know that it's going to be okay. Although, I know it won't ever be okay as this game has come to an end, but I know another is just beginning. "Is there anything I can get for you, Mr. Shadow?" For a moment, I just pretend I don't hear what's going on around me. I completely ignore the person, but then I realize they can help me. They can offer me some help. "Yea, I'd like it if you'd bring in Nico, Stella, or another district twelve victor." I watch as he walks away, and then I close my eyes. I'm not sure where to go from here, but I am grateful I don't have to go through this mess alone.

[gamemaker tallis 🧚🏽‍♂️kaitlin.]

nico,
 thorne.

Nico keeps thinking about waking up with Mackenzie standing vigil at his bedside, a grimace and an apology. He hadn't known it at the time, but he knows it now; from that moment on, he was living in a kingdom made for one. Hollow husk on fire, waking up with limbs replaced as if he was just another machine in the lineup. Parts fixed and oiled, screwed on tight. What a horrible thing, to make peace with the end of your life, with your story ending. What torture, to wake up and know that nothing is sacred or safe, that you'd compromise everything and sell your soul just to stay alive. As long as Nico has been a mentor, this he has never shaken. That when the Capitol took his scars from him, he spent a decade trying to forget them rather than honor them. Being there for Marik does not come as second nature. Nico watches his tribute win on a television screen at a donor event, a thousand sets of eyes flicking back and forth between he and the screen. This wall of people between he and Marik is enough to justify not going to him at first. He has to keep up the mask, keep up the smile, entertain the masses now that this is definitely a celebration rather than a funeral. But an hour passes, and then another. The screens change to quell highlights. Marik taking down Arcadia, taking down Arlo, Laney; the fights where he helped with several others, children in early graves because someone else decided Marik Shadow would make a fine puppet. The hands on Nico's shoulders start feeling heavier and heavier, and he wishes Nessa were here tonight rather than wearing her bathrobe while tucked away comfy in their four poster bed upstairs. It's her voice encouraging him to go. The ward where Marik will make his quick recovery is not far, but it takes painfully long in the mid-summer heat. By the time he talks to a receptionist, Nico is a slick of sweat beneath his suit and Dynamo has already called ahead, told them he was on his way, and has an intern delivering him a metal mug filled with an iced coffee. It's an easy song and dance, smiling at her and letting her lead me upstairs to the recovery suite. A quiet, needling voice in the back of his head doesn't seem to stop chanting: we got one home, we got one home, we got one home. "Hey kid," he strides in like he owns the room, doesn't let Marik see the way he paused just outside the door and held his own breath, just for a moment, tight as a clenched fist. He sits in a chair stationed nearby, crosses one knee over the other before putting on his best mask. "Bet you're glad to see a familiar fucking face."

[Noah Vau - D2 (Cato)]

I listen as the footsteps vanish, and in this moment, I'm completely alone. My entire mind racing, replaying the events of the games, and for the first time, I let myself cry. Every feeling is so unreal, it's so difficult and impossible to feel, and I can't even describe them because I don't know what I feel. There's joy for being alive, grief for the twenty-three others, sorrow for the six I killed, anxiety knowing I'm going back to my family, and exhaustion. All I want is to sleep, to pretend that everything is okay, but I can't stop my mind. It's weird feeling the tears running down the side of my face, and when people start walking around, I quickly wipe them away. I'm a victor now. I can't let anyone see me cry.

It's the hardest thing I've ever done in my entire life, yet I kept reminding myself that my family needs me. I used them to hold onto the strength that's needed to do what I had to do, but it's all terrifying. I don't know if this will get easier. I don't know if the feelings ever go away. I don't know what to anticipate, and I feel so alone. It's hard to focus on anything until the door opens, and I watch Nico walk in. It's such a relief, but at the same time, I can't even wrap my head around everything I'm feeling. I want to run to his arms and sob into his chest. I want him to validate what I'm feeling, but I know it may not come easy, and when he says he bets I'm glad to see a familiar face, I feel everything settle down in my mind.

"I am so grateful to see a familiar face." I take a deep breath, and I look around, and when I see we're alone, I let my guard down a bit, but it's not enough to be completely vulnerable. "Sometimes I think this is all a dream and that I'm still inside the arena." I try to find ways to joke about it, yet I know it isn't going to help anything. I know it won't make me feel better. It gives me a better understanding though as it allows me to gauge where the person is mentally. "But the amount of morphling they're giving me makes me realize that I'm very much alive." I offer a smile before turning away. I'm glad he's here. I'm glad to see someone I know, but it still feels like it's almost too much. "So what happens now?"

Table By Dars