Bittersweet Solitude [open] [DONE!!!]

[Morgana]

Fledger Rells

[/color]

River sighs, and I can tell it's not in elation. Before the sigh, I caught a look of contentment on her face. I'm sure I did. But the sigh says so much. The sigh tells me that this is a lot more complicated than I ever imagined it would be. But then, when I asked her if I could kiss her, I wasn't thinking beyond the next ten minutes. I wasn't thinking about the complications in this relationship.

I don't think either of us have the time for a relationship. And honestly, I don't know how I'll ever be able to introduce her to my mother. But will our relationship even go that far? Or will it end right here, tonight?

"Look. I don't exactly know what's going on right now. I don't know what's going to happen. I don't even know exactly where I stand with you. But whatever is happening between us, can you just promise me that we'll take it one day at a time? Because that's all I can handle. I'm just so confused right now..."

One day at a time...yeah, that sounds good. I won't even pretend I know what a future with River will bring. Day by day by day, sounds good to me. No worries about tomorrow, and no regrets of the past.

River grips my hand tighter, and I give it a squeeze as she smiles at me. I give her another kiss, slow and sweet. Suddenly, day by day makes me feel sick. How can I stand being with River when I don't know what will happen tomorrow, and when I don't know where tomorrow will bring us?

I brush hair out of her face and stroke her cheek."I don't know if I can live with one day at a time. I can't stand having another thing in my life uncertain with every day. My mom...She took my father's death really hard. She became forgetful. It wasn't so bad at first, but it got worse. Every day when I wake up, every night when I come home from work, I wonder if she even remembers who I am."

I hope she doesn't misunderstand what I'm saying. I want to be with her, I really do. But I need something certain and solid in my life."I really like you River. And I'm sorry if all this is confusing you even more. I want to try having a relationship with you, but I need there to be something solid in this. If we take this day by day, I need to know that you won't leave with no notice. I need to know that you'll be there."

I sound so weak and needy. I don't care. I've got problems, and River has a right to know what she's getting herself into.[/blockquote][/justify]

[Deleted]

*~*~River Destin~*~*

I feel awful as Fledger finally tells me about his home life. How could I be so stupid, to ask for one day at a time from someone whose life is nothing but day-to-day uncertainty? I can see in his face that he's not mad at me for making the request, because after all, how could I know? I'd been too busy spouting off about my issues to let him talk about his. I suddenly feel like the biggest jerk in the world. Why on earth would he want a relationship with someone like me? Fledger needs someone solid, someone who's going to be there for him no matter what. I'm unstable, hot-headed, and honestly don't know what I want half the time. And yet he still wants me. And the one certain thing in my racing mind right now is that I want this just as much as he does. We both need someone to understand, someone to go to when it all gets to be too much. We need each other. I wrap my arms around him, burying my face in the warm space between his neck and shoulder, the chill water feeling frigid against my legs in comparison.

"We're too much alike," I say, the sound somewhat muffled against his shirt. "My dad kind of spaced out after my mom died, too. He tried to make himself forget, though, it wasn't involuntary. He's pretty much drunk all the time. I usually make him sober up for the Reaping every year so he doesn't embarrass himself on national television, but that's about it. So I somewhat understand where you're coming from."

I cling tighter to Fledger, silently trying to make up for everything I've put him through tonight. He didn't deserve any of it, the snapping, the running away, the inconsiderate comments. I'm going to make this right, no matter what the nagging worry in the back of my head is telling me. There's one more secret I haven't divulged yet, one more volatile secret that could make him drop whatever we have right now and walk away. I wouldn't blame him. Fledger's lost enough people without me being one more on the list. I'm going to give him this chance to walk away, because I have the feeling that if we start something, there will be no going back.

"I want this, Fledger. You, a relationship, everything. And I promise that if this is what you want, that I'm not going anywhere. But there's something you should know before you make up your mind about wanting to be with me. You know the Reaping's coming up soon. And the thing is, I'm signed up for tesserae. A lot of tesserae. I keep getting more each year, I've lost count, but I have to do it to pay for our house. If I had to guess, I'd be in the upper fifties, maybe lower sixties. I just wanted to tell you. I'm not sure you want to risk it."

[/blockquote]

[Morgana]

Fledger Rells

River wraps her arms around me and lays her head on my shoulder. The warm of her body comforts me. It makes me feel needed in a way I never have before. I remember suddenly that we're still standing in the water, the cold water, and River's going to get sick if we stay here much longer. I might get sick, too, but I don't care about myself. River's more important. I open my mouth to say we should move to the shore, but River speaks first.

She's right when she says we're too much alike. I think she's going to pull away, end all this now, but she wraps her arms more tightly around me. I wrap my own arms around her waist, hoping she won't ever try to run away again.

And then she tells me about the tessarae. A shock ripples through my body as I pull myself away from her. With that many tessera, it's almost certain that she'll be in the games. I can't lose her. I don't want to. For the first time in a while, I have something that's mine, and I'm not going to let the Capitol take her away so easily.

I grab both of River's hands and stroke the palms with my thumbs. "When I said I'd never let go, I meant it, River. And if you're reaped, well, we've always got the hope that someone will volunteer for you, right? This is supposed to be a career district. There must be plenty of people willing to take your place."

A horrible thought dawns on me, one I'm not even sure I want to say out loud. But I have to. If I don't, the thought will haunt me, who knows for how long.

"Unless...unless you don't want someone to volunteer for you." I don't meet her eyes, afraid of what I'll find there. i want to clamp my hands over my ears, tell myself that her answer doesn't matter. But of course, it does.

[Deleted]

*~*~River Destin~*~*

The look in Fledger's eyes after I tell him about the tesserae causes a physical pain, a sharp stab in my chest, like a knife that may well be there for real in a matter of weeks. I'm scared. Completely terrified. I told Fledger that I'm not sure how many entries I have, but that was a white lie meant to take some of the worry from him. I know exactly the odds of my death that have been augmented by the cruel device.

Sixty-five. The number that haunts my dreams whenever I allow myself to drift off to sleep. Thirteen tesserae for a sixteen year old girl at five entries per tessera. Sixty-five entries in a deadly lottery. Sixty-five little slips of paper with River Destin on them in the reaping ball. Sixty-five entries in a district where few people are poor enough to need tesserae, like me. Sixty-five chances that I will board a train for the Capitol and never return home, to my father, to my crew, to everything I know and love. To Fledger.

He pulls away from me, the shocked horror that registers across his face sending that invisible knife into my chest a little deeper. If he knows what's good for him, he should walk away right now. He should forget me, forget this night ever happened. Doing that would save him the pain of losing a loved one to the Games. I think of Takeba Suzumi's family, who still walk around with dazed, numb looks on their faces, like the world around them doesn't truly exist. They'll never be the same again. The thought of Fledger living like that because of me turns my stomach. He shouldn't take this chance, neither of us should, not when the odds are stacked so highly against us. But of course, Fledger doesn't seem to be the type to take the easy way out.

"When I said I'd never let go, I meant it, River. And if you're reaped, well, we've always got the hope that someone will volunteer for you, right? This is supposed to be a career district. There must be plenty of people willing to take your place...Unless...unless you don't want someone to volunteer for you."

I laugh softly, sadly. "We're a Career district, but you're forgetting we're the lowest of the three. One and Two stand a better chance then us by a long shot, and even our Careers know that. They'll train, they'll act like arrogant jerks, but when the time comes, they'll be just as anxious to save their own skins as the rest of us. How long has it been since we've actually had a volunteer, Fledger? If my name comes out of that ball, I'm going to the Capitol. We both need to accept that right now."

I stare out at the ocean blankly, looking at the water as it disappears onto the horizon. Everything that worries me - the tesserae, what would happen to dad, work, the Games, Fledger - suddenly seems to crash on my shoulders at once. The weight on my soul is staggering, and against my will, a single tear slips down my cheek. This is too much. I want out. I want off this ride. A terrible thought overcomes my tortured mind, and it's passing over my lips before I can stop it.

"Would it really be so bad?" I ask, my voice so soft it's almost a whisper, continuing to stare out at the endless ocean. "It's a way out. Isn't that want we all want? A way out? Out of the district, out of Panem, out of life, what's the difference? Everything here is hard, you know that even better than I do. And it would be so easy, just walking into the bloodbath without a weapon. And if you ran into one of the kids from One or Two, I bet it would be quick. Maybe even painless. And you wouldn't have to worry any more. You wouldn't have to worry about anything..."

At this, the weight overcomes me, the invisible knife in my heart makes an excruciating twist, and I'm sobbing, each ragged breath sending more pain all through me. Every tear I've been saving up all these years is coming out, the floodgate of my willpower loosed by the fact that I've acknowledged that I would welcome death if it came to me. The horrifying realization that I want to die is dimmed only by the more upsetting revelation that other than Fledger, other than this beach, at this moment, on this night, I don't feel like I have anything left to live for.

[/blockquote]

[Morgana]

Fledger Rells

her words stab me. Each and every one. A knife through my heart, twisting deeper and deeper with every sentence. She's right when she says we haven't had a volunteer. Not in a very long time, I think. And then she talks about dying, about a way out. My hands start to shake. It scares me, that she can talk this way about dying, about her own death. It scars me even more when I realize I've had much of the same thoughts.

If I was in the Hunger Games, I wouldn't have to worry about Mom anymore, or work. All these things that I worry about every day wouldn't mean a thing in the arena.

I will not let River go into that arena on her own. I refuse. The capitol will not use her for their own amusement. She is a person, and I don't want her to become just another tribute from District Four that didn't make it.

I wipe away her tears before I look into her eyes. "I'll volunteer. If your name gets called, I'll volunteer. I'll go into the arena with you. I don't care if I die. I've been looking for a way out of this hole I'm in for far too long. And when I die there, than at least I'll know I had you right until the end. I'd rather die than say goodbye to you tonight, River. I promised I wouldn't let go, and I don't take promises lightly.

I want her to understand that I'm not going to leave her, no matter what. If she's in the Games and I'm not, I'll-

The realization of what I'd do shocks me. "If you're in that arena and I'm not, I'll kill myself the second you die. I mean that River. It scares me to think that way, but it's the truth."

I've made my choice. Now it's time for her to make her choice. Will she stay with me, or leave me now?

[Deleted]

*~*~River Destin~*~*

"No, you can't!" I gasp out turning around and latching onto Fledger again. He's the only thing that's solid in the world right now, the anchor that's keeping me from floating off on the next wave. The thought of being in the arena with him is completely inconceivable. If he's the only thing worth living for and one of us has to die, then we're both doomed. I have to make him see that.

"If they pick me, you have to stay! If you go with me, I'll have nothing left to fight for! I'll have nothing to come home to! Do you think I have friends? Do you think I have someone I trust to take care of my dad if something happens? We can't both go in. How could you even think of something like that? One of us has to be here so the other has something to work towards. One of us has to be here to take care of the things the other might leave behind. Think of your mother, Fledger."

It's a low blow, but it's necessary. I have to find something to make him stay, to keep him safe if my name comes out of the reaping ball. I'm not as concerned about Dad as I should be, and the thought makes me angry with myself for not thinking more of him. In his drunken stupor, he's basically an overgrown child. Someone has to take care of him. Maybe if I weren't around, Fledger could make him dry out and turn into a productive citizen again. Or maybe he would just give up completely, having lost both his wife and his only daughter.

"If they pick me, you have to stay," I sob into his shirt, my tears dampening his shoulder."If you promise to stay, I promise I'll come back to you. I won't rest until I do. I promise. Just please don't volunteer if they pick me."

[/blockquote]

[Morgana]

Fledger Rells

Why is it that River is always right? If she goes in the arena, of course she wants something to fight for. But I can't protect her from District Four if she's far away in the arena. And my mother...well, she could live without me, I think. The neighbor ladies take care of her already, and she always seems to remember who they are, even if she doesn't remember me.

River grabs onto my shirt, but I push her away. "I'm sorry, River. I need to think about all this."

I walk off, out of the water, back to shore. I sit down, close my eyes, draws my knees to my chest, and rest my head on my knees. I want to be with River. I don't want her to die. I want to protect her. But she doesn't want me in the arena with her. She wants me to stay here. She says she'll come back to me if I do. She can't promise that. She can't promise that she'll come back to me. I want to believe she would, but I can't know that for certain. You walk into the arena promising people you'll live. It's an impossible promise to keep.

So what do I want? Do I want to tell her that this is it? That this relationship ends right here on the beach, right now? No. But if she goes into that arena and she dies, I'll be just what my mother is now. I'll be forgetful, heartbroken, and hopeless. And I won't have anyone to take care of me. I pull myself back to my feet. I've made up my mind, and I'm not changing it, not for anything.

I walk back to River and stand in front of her. I give a kiss, slow and soft and heartbreakingly bittersweet. I pull away and find her hands, hold them tight. "It's a terribly stupid thing to promise to come back from the Games. I'm sure almost every tribute has said that, but only fifty-six of them have actually come back. So don't promise me you'll come back. Promise me you'll try, because that's all you can do. And if you give me that promise, I'll stay here and wait for you. But if you don't..." I draw in a deep breath. I can't believe I'm about to say this. "If you don't, I'll walk away right now with a broken heart and you won't ever see me again."

My lungs feel tight, constricted. Even though I say I'd leave her, I don't know if I'd be able to find the strength to turn my back. I want her to say yes. I want her to promise she'll do her best to come back to me. If she says no, I don't know how I'll go on. I won't have a thing left to live for.

[Deleted]

*~*~River Destin~*~*

I follow Fledger out of the water, but stop a few feet away from him when I see him curled up on the sand. This is it, I'm certain. He's going to walk out on me. He's weighing his options, and he's going to figure out that losing me isn't worth the pain. I stand there watching him, with the wet sand squishing under my bare feet, each new wave sending cold water bubbling up around my ankles. I don't even realize how violently my body is shaking until I feel Fledger's steady hands in my own again. His voice is as shaky as my whole body is when he gives me his ultimatum.

"Promise me you'll try, because that's all you can do. And if you give me that promise, I'll stay here and wait for you. But if you don't...If you don't, I'll walk away right now with a broken heart and you won't ever see me again."

I don't know why, but making that promise is even harder than promising to come back. Maybe it was because I knew the odds of coming back weren't good, and it was easy to make a promise that could be broken by whoever dealt my deathblow instead of myself. But trying... Fledger could hold me to that. He could see if I wasn't fighting to get out, even from the other side of a TV screen miles away. If I'm drawn in the Reaping, I have two choices of what to do in the Games: give up on life and cease having to worry about everything, or fight like hell to come back home to Fledger. Easy way out, Fledger, easy way out, Fledger. The choices swirl around in my mind with crushing intensity, and for a moment, I'm not sure what I want. Can I sacrifice my only chance at escape for this boy I have known for such a short amount of time?

The cruel serendipity of our situation fully hits me for the first time. Fledger and I have known each other for only a few hours, and the connection we've made isn't one that can be easily severed. The Reaping's in a few days, with heavy chances that I might get picked. We have so little time for this relationship to run its course. The thought of him walking away leaves me feeling hollow, like a part of me is missing. And I know now that whatever I've got with Fledger, whatever this is, I'm holding onto it as long as I can, even if it means making a promise I'm not sure I want to keep. Even if it means refusing an easy way out.

"Of course I'll try," I say with a wavering smile, giving his hands a squeeze. "If I get picked, I'd fight to my last breath to come back home. To come back to you."

For some unknown reason, my mind flashes back to Fledger's earlier offer, his impassioned declaration that he'd volunteer if my name was drawn in the Reaping. As I look up into his kind gray eyes, I know that Fledger probably couldn't win the Games. He has too much compassion, too much regard for the sanctity of life. No one with that sort of kindness in their heart ever wins. Could I win? Maybe. My years without any parents to love and comfort me have hardened me enough that I might just have the capacity to kill, if that was the only way for me to survive. I'm sure my skill with a harpoon could be channeled into a spear, I'm good enough at throwing knives, I have a fair amount of physical stamina and I know how to be hungry. I've got the technical skills it takes to win the Games, and deep inside me, I know I could find the ruthlessness if I had to. But Fledger? He'd be okay as long as we stuck together, as long as I was there to actually be the one to snuff out someone else's life. But what if I died?

Two visions rapidly flash through my mind. In the first, I am in the arena, bleeding to death after a fight, in an indescribable amount of pain. And I am alone. Horribly, terrifyingly, totally alone. This idea scares me to the point that I feel a chill run down my spine. The second vision however, is different. It is much like the first, I'm still painfully bleeding out in the arena, but this time, Fledger is there, holding me and stroking my hair, telling me even through his tears that everything will be all right. Begging me to stay with him. And in a sick, macabre way, I find this vision almost comforting. Perhaps if we were to both go in and I died, he could find the anger it would take to make him fight. Perhaps he could get out. And we could both get what we wanted. Fledger could go in to protect me like wants to, and he could emerge safely like I want him to, and I could find my escape. And if something were to go wrong... well, we'd both be dead, so I guess we really wouldn't care.

Even though the thought that I'm endangering Fledger with my next statement disgusts me, it leaves my mouth anyway. "I was thinking... And I have one last question, and then we'll stop talking about the Reaping, because I might not even be chosen and there's no point in worrying too much about something that might not happen. But if ... if I died... would you rather be there with me or watch it from far away? Which would hurt less?"

It's horrible for me to be asking him this, but my plan of action is going to be the one that causes Fledger the least pain. And if that plan involves him actually entering the arena with me, then so be it.

[/blockquote]

[Morgana]

Fledger Rells

I wish River didn't have to ask that question. I wish she already knew. Of course I'd rather be next to her if she died in the arena than here, miles away.

But would it really hurt less that way? Wouldn't it be worse if I was there, holding her in my arms as she died? No. Nothing could be worse than watching it from far away and knowing I could do nothing to stop it.

"I'd rather be there. Because then, at least, I'd know I did my best to protect you. If I'm here, no matter what I do, if you're dying in the arena, it won't change a thing."/color]

I squeeze her hands and give her a small smile. "Now come on, let's do something fun. If you are reaped, that means I don't have much time with you. I want to make the most of what we've got now."

But I realize I haven't finished talking about the reaping yet. There's still things to be said. I fiddle with the thin leather cord around my neck, the one that holds my parent's wedding rings. I got dad's when he died, and mom stopped wearing hers a little while later. She gave it to me and told me to sell it for food, but I kept it instead. I pull the cord off my neck hold it in my fingers. The two wedding bands on it are simple. No jewels, no fancy carvings. Just a circle of gold. I untie the knot and slip the rings into my palm.

Mother's is the thinner one. I press it into River's palm. "It was my mother's wedding ring. She doesn't wear it anymore, not since my father died. If you go into the arena, I want to take it as your token. I'll take this one, my father's."

I hope she takes the ring, but doesn't read into it's meaning too much. I want this ring to just be promise that she'll try to come back, and something real she can touch when she misses me. I'm not trying to propose to her, or anything like that. We've only known each other for a few hours, and even though we've practically pledged our lives to each other, I don't think we're ready for marriage. We've both still got to get through the reaping, and if neither of us get in, there's still plenty we can learn about each other. We can't experience an entire relationship in the course of a few days.

There's one thing that scares me, though. We've both admitted that we're searching for a way out of our lives. , for one, know that if River was gone, I would lose my reason for living. But what about her? Am I enough for her? Enough reason to keep living, even if she isn't in the Games?

[Deleted]

*~*~River Destin~*~*

I silently reach out and take the ring from Fledger, examining the way the moonlight glints off of the brilliant gold. I don't think he means anything related to marriage by giving it to me, but the sentiment behind giving me half of all he has left of his parents and the life he once knew is enough to to make me tear up, a lump in my throat making it painful to swallow. I slide the little golden circle onto the ring finger of my right hand, since the one on the left is where an engagement ring should go, just to show him that I understand what he meant by giving it to me.

"Thank you," I say softly, wrapping my arms around his neck and leaning in for another kiss, which I find gets better and better every time it happens. "I know how much this must mean to you. I'll keep it safe."

A cold gust of wind blows something against my leg. I look down to investigate and see the towel that Fledger had with him when he first ran into me a little ways up the beach. Grinning slightly, I lean down to pick up the wide piece of fabric. I walk a few yards more away from the water and spread the towel out on the sand, laying down on the soft cotton and patting the space next to me. The fabric should be enough to keep the both of us out of the sand if we curl up closely to each other.Plus, it's a good way to stay warm on this cool night. Fledger wants to do something fun, and my idea of fun is this. Just laying here peacefully, waiting to watch the sunrise with my...

What is Fledger to me, exactly? The word "boyfriend" seems completely inadequate to describe our relationship. "Best friend" is closer, but that only covers a facet of what Fledger and I have developed. I lay here and ponder this for some time, possible phrases running through my head. "Soulmate," no. Too flowery. "Love of my llife," no. Too cliche. "Reason for living," partly, but he means so much more than that. "Other half."

The second those words cross my mind, I know I've found a perfect description. Fledger is my missing piece, the hole that couldn't ever be filled until I met him. With our lives, almost exactly the same, we are two parts of the same person. We understand each other. We need each other. He is mine and I am his, and that is all there needs to be for us to be happy. I sigh contentedly as I feel the pressure of him joining me on the towel. I curl up closer to the warmth of his body, feeling safer now than I've ever felt in my life.

"I think I might just be in love with you, Fledger Rells."

((OOC - I edited this pic as well. You can use it if you want. It's where my inspiration for this post came from ))

[/blockquote]

[Morgana]

Fledger Rells

Her words catch me by surprise. In love? We haven't known each other for that long, but the words feel right to me. I didn't know it was possible to fall in love so fast. Was it this way for my parents? Did they meet one day and decide they couldn't live without each other? Or was it something slow, taking time to develop? I make a mental note to ask the older men on my fishing boat, the ones that knew my father. They're sure to have some stories about my parents before they got married.

"I think I might be in love with you, too." My lips find hers, and this time the kiss isn't bittersweet in the slightest. I love her. Of course I love her. I kiss her again, and then again. I can't help it. The realization that I love her makes me happier than I've been in a long time. "The sun's starting to come up."

There's surprise in my voice. That wasn't what I'd meant to say. I'm not sure what what I had meant say. The sunrise surprised me so much, I forgot. It was important though, I know that for sure.

I hadn't realized we'd been out here so long. It had been around two when I left the house, and if the sun is coming up that means it's...five o' clock, at least. I sit up so I can see the view better, and arrange myself in a way that will be comfortable for River if she wants to lean against me.

The yellow orb slowly peeks over the horizon. Suddenly, I remember what I was going to say. How could I have forgotten this? "River, I think I'd like you to meet my mother. If you have time today before work start, I mean. It just seems like she should at least meet the girl I'm willing to die for."

I shouldn't have mentioned the dying thing. We're done talking about that. Think about mother instead. Think about River meeting mother. She might be having a bad day today, but if that's the case, we can just leave. We'll come back another day. If you want to, that is. I understand if you don't."

(ooc-thanks sooo much for the picture! You have no idea how amazingly happy Fledger and River make me!!!XD)

[Deleted]

*~*~River Destin~*~*

I smile happily, basking in the glow of the rising sun and the comfort of Fledger's presence, the warmth of his kisses. For a few brief, wonderful moments, all is right with the world. There is no reaping, no Games, no work, no father at home for me to take care of. There is only Fledger and I, and this beach, and this sunrise. I curl up as close to him as I can, watching the sun peek over the horizon, utterly peaceful.

"River, I think I'd like you to meet my mother."

It isn't the thought of meeting Fledger's mother that scares me - it's the thought of him meeting my father, the thought of him looking into the life I try so hard to cover up. Dad's completely incoherent most of the time, our house is a pigsty because I'm hardly ever around to clean, and the level of our poverty is beyond embarassing. I can't expose Fledger to that. I can't let him see the reason I have so many tesserae, the dilapidated shack that I pay for by spending my entire paycheck as well as selling my tessera grain and oil.

But why not? Isn't Fledger willing to show me what goes on in his life? I'm sure he's probably as embarassed by his secrets as I am by mine. And if there's anyone in this world I know I can be open with and not be judged, it's Fledger. I have no doubt in my mind that he'd still love me if he saw the way I live, but it's still going to be hard letting someone in when I've spent the majority of my life shutting people out.

"I'd like that. I'm off work today anyway, so I'm free all day, I say, giving Fledger's hand an affectionate squeeze. "But first I need to stop by my house and check on Dad. Do you mind going with me, it's just over a mile up the shore." I know I need to show him now, as quickly as possible, before I lose my nerve. Things can never be right between Fledger and I unless he knows everything.

((OOC - Crappostextravaganza!!! I have no idea why that was so bad, I'm sorry,

P.S. I totally understand how happy Fledger and River make you, because they make me extremely happy too. Best couple ever. <3))

[/blockquote]

[Morgana]

Fledger Rells

I can understand why River wants wants to check on her father. And if I go don't go with her, what reason would she have to go with me? I don't have any problem meeting him. I just...I guess I'm afraid he'll be like my own father was. Unlikely, but I can't help but feel that way. Maybe he was like that once, but now, from what I've heard from River, he's a drunk. I don't mean that in a bad way. It's just what you'd call him. I'd call my own mother a crazy coot if she wasn't related to me. That's just how other people see her.

"Of course I'll go with you." I gather up my towel and take River's hand. I can do this. It can't be much worse than my mother when she forgets me. I remember one time I walked in the house, shouting her name because I was so happy about...something. Something so little and unimportant, it wasn't even worth the risk of going in without testing to see if she remembered. I hugged her, and she freaked out, screaming at me, asking who I was, and finally whacking me upside the head with a frying pan. No, it couldn't be much worse than that.

"Lead the way."

[Deleted]

*~*~River Destin~*~*

I'm not aware how sweaty my palms have grown until we're just around the bend from my house, and my hand is nearly slipping out of Fledger's with every move I make. Why am I so nervous? People have seen my house before. Those same people almost dragged me kicking and screaming into the community home,but I know that Fledger doesn't pose any sort of threat like that. I groan inwardly as I lead Fledger around the corner, my more-than-humble abode finally coming into view. The place is falling apart, and has been for years. What had once been whitewashed walls are now a dull gray, the wood warped and sagging inward from the exposure to the salt spray of the ocean. There is no heat in the winter, and no relief from the sweltering summer except for the ocean breeze wafting through the windows, if I can manage to force them open. The roof leaks profusely whenever it rains, and the glass of the windows is so covered with dirt and grit that it is impossible to see through them, even without the thick, dusty curtains that hang behind each one. My front porch with its creaky, rotting steps descends right onto the sand of the beach. Dad had picked this place after Mother died because it was out of the way of most of the district. Neither of us like people much. The little cottage had actually been pretty for a few years before Dad's drinking left it to fall into disrepair. The remains of the flower boxes on the front windows are filled with bone-dry dirt and the remains of long dead lavender plants. If you get close enough to the old boxes, you can still catch a faint wisp of the calming fragrance. I take a deep breath through my nose as I lead Fledger to the door. Even though she had never been here in her life, this porch smells like my mother.

When I try to open the door, it gets stuck in the frame like it always does, and takes a few good kicks to allow me entry into the living room. As soon as the door swings open, an entirely different smell accosts my nose. The noxious miasma of alcohol and tobacco smoke pervades everything in the house with the exception of my bedroom, which I keep shut at all times and regularly launder all fabric inside. As for the rest of the house, it seems that no matter how many bundles of dried flowers and mugs of fresh cinnamon sticks I put around the place, I can never stop it from smelling like a damn dive bar. I take a few steps onto the wooden floor of the living room, which probably hasn't been scrubbed since we moved in, stepping gingerly around the empty glass bottles that seem to cover every inch of unused space. I wrinkle my nose, turning back to Fledger to look at his reaction.

"Sorry everything's such a mess. I try to clean up sometimes, but then I just look at all of this and I know I can't get anything done without help. Plus, he'd just mess everything up again, anyway."

I pick up a few stray bottles from beside the old couch with its sinking cushions, and a few more from the threadbare rug in front of our ancient, fuzzy-screened TV that the government requires us to own, depositing them in a large box by the kitchen door, which has actually been a blanket tacked to the door frame since last summer, when Dad stumbled into the door and knocked it off the hinges. "At least I can use the bottles to help get a little money," I explain to Fledger, picking up a few more empty containers. "I fill them up with my tessera oil and sell them as lantern fuel down on the docks for the sailors who are headed out on overnight trips."

I dodge into the kitchen with Fledger close behind, my embarrassment washing over me anew at the fact that he is standing in the midst of this squalor. A huge wooden spool that once held miles of rope on the docks now serves as our table, surrounded by four mismatched, wobbly chairs that I managed to scavenge from a junkyard. Dad sold our custom dining set from District 7 and Mother's beautiful Capitol-made china to buy booze a long time ago. The stove takes forever to start, and emits a foul stench of natural gas whenever it is operated. The refrigerator barely keeps anything cool, and is so empty that it doesn't even matter. The chipped porcelain sink is piled high with dishes that will probably never be washed, and brown, rusty water drips steadily from the tap. I shuffle my feet on the worn linoleum, edging around Fledger and back into the living room. If Dad's not in either of those places...

My suspicions are rewarded when I open the door to his room as quietly as I can, the rusty, squeaky hinges making my task harder. Dad is passed out on top of his bed, shoes still on, half-empty bottle of rum still clutched in his hand. His jet black hair, long in need of a cut, falls to the base of his neck in matted curls, a few days' growth of beard darkening his jaw. He's clearly been out all night and just come in. I sigh in exasperation, praying to whatever powers that be that somehow Fledger isn't seeing this. I walk carefully into my father's bedroom, gently prying the bottle from his fingers and setting it on the nightstand. I have his right shoe off and am starting on the left when he stirs, squinting at me through bleary, sleepy eyes.

"Hmm? What time is it, Celine?" he slurs, his few words almost breaking my heart. He's been doing this more often as I get older, mistaking me for my mother in his rum-fueled daze. From the one photograph of her we own, their wedding day, which still sits on my father's nightstand, I can see that I look almost exactly like her at the time they got married. Same red curls, same wide brown eyes, same heart-shaped face sprinkled with freckles, same lithe dancer's body. She was seventeen. Only six months older than me.

"It's me, Dad. River," I say, pulling back the thin blanket on his bed.

"Oh, where's your mother, half-pint?" he mumbles incoherently, again ripping at my soul with the nickname reserved for me when I was a small child.

"She's not here, Daddy." I'm choking back tears now, furious at myself that I still let things like this get to me. I'm spending the day at a friend's house, is that okay?" I drape the blanket over him, gently lifting his head onto a pillow.

"Of course, sweetheart. Tell your mother to wake me when she gets home."

"I will," I whisper, backing slowly out of the room. He's already asleep again. I wipe quickly at my eyes, avoiding Fledger's gaze as I walk quickly toward the front door. "I'm sorry you had to see that. He forgets what time he's in sometimes when he's really bad. Let's get out of here."

((ooc - I'm too attached to my characters. I cried while writing this. I have issues.))

[/blockquote]

[Morgana]

Fledger Rells

River's house is falling apart at the seams. The windows are dirty, the walls are sagging in, and the wood is rotting. I could fix this place up. I could make it better for her and her father. I bet it wouldn't cost too much, either. I could use the little bit of extra money I have after buying food and fix it up, bit by bit. Maybe I could even bring mother out here on one of her good days and she could plant flowers in these old flower boxes. the door could use some fixing, too. It's so warped that it takes River a few tries to even get it open.

The smell of alcohol and tobacco smoke greets us as we walk inside. I close my eyes against the smell. My father used to smoke every once in a while. I'd almost forgotten about that, and I wish I hadn't remembered it now. I could fix this place. I could scrub the floors and pick up the bottles, put a door in where one is missing. They don't have to live like this. They don't have to live like there's no hope of things ever getting better. I can fix this house, just like I've fixed so many people's problems.

I follow River to a closed door. She opens it, and see the man that I assume is her father on the other side. He's a mess, too. I try to look away, try to pretend I didn't see a thing, can't hear what they're saying. But I can. When River emerges, she walks quickly to the door, not looking at me. I grab her arm and pull her back to me, hold her tight in my arms.

"I don't want you to feel like you have to hide your life from me. I'd rather not have you in my home, and see my mother when she's really bad, but I want you to anyways. Because even if that's a part of my life I don't particularly like, it's still part of my life. And you have a right to know who I am."

My words are soft, louder than a whisper but quieter than regular talking. And I hope it's soothing, too, but I can't trust my own voice too much right now. There's too much emotion in me right now, too much love, if such a thing is possible. 'I don't care where you live, River. I don't care what your house looks like. I'd like to fix it up if you'll let me, but that's only because I think you deserve better. I love you no matter what. I want you to know that."