Oh! How Long Has it Been? {East}

[Tsarashi 2.0]

---

Eight days. That was how long it has been since Heron had last seen her best friend, her crush, her reason for living. She still had yet to thank him for everything, because, truly, if he hadn’t been in her life she would not have found the will to survive through those days. If Fletcher hadn’t met her that early spring night where they first became allies to protect that stranger, Heron would have died alongside Storm.

But she did have Fletcher, and that meant the world to her. Maybe, just maybe someday soon she would finally gain the courage to tell him that she liked him. It was ironic, truly. Heron Kimberling, the person who had the audacity to raise herself to be a man, who had the strength and bravery to win the Hunger Games, didn’t have the courage to tell a boy that she liked him. It was quite laughable, actually. Which was why she hadn’t told anybody.

Not that she had many visits from her old gang. Her worst fears were fulfilled when she returned home only to realize that the majority of her friends had turned their backs on her for lying to them for their entire friendship. Now, the only people who she sees at her new, gaudy house in the Victor’s square are her parents, Len, a slightly more forgiving school friend, and of course, Fletcher. Fletcher though, hasn’t visited her in well over a week and it pulled at Heron’s heartstrings.

He had a good reason though. His mother has been quite sick lately and he had picked up extra hours in the mines to earn some extra money to take care of her and his younger brother. Heron was more than willing to give him some money for medicine, but she was afraid that if she offered it he would become angry with her and refuse it. He was a hard worker, and Heron didn’t know how he would react to ‘handouts’.

However, Fletcher had the afternoon off today and he had made plans to visit her, which was why Heron was pacing back and forth in her foyer. The rubber soles of her artificial legs made a dull thud with every step she made, reminding her that she was not whole. With an irritated sigh Heron ran her long fingers through her longer hair, which fell to her shoulders now that she had decided to grow it out a bit. That coupled with the blue blouse that she was wearing were proof that she was giving into her femininity. She had made a resolution when she had returned home, and that was to try and not lie to anyone anymore.

And tell the truth she did, when she confided to Fletcher about her nightmares and day terrors. Now all she needed to do was to confide in him about her feelings, which she would! As soon as he ceased in being late and showed up already! Her nervousness was growing every second, and even though thoughts of Fletcher diverted her mind from her frightening memories of the Games, that still didn’t keep her from practically having a heart attack when she heard the sharp ring of the doorbell sounding through the hall.

[Eastern Orange]

Fletcher practically skipped as he made he way up to Heron's house, excited to see his ally after a long week of seeing nothing but the inside of a dark, dusty coal mine. "Come on!" He yelled over his shoulder to the pretty little slip of a girl trailing behind him.

Esmeralda grumbled as she struggled to keep up with Fletcher's long stride, her paper thin legs taking two steps to his one. Her breath scraped through her chest, and her cheeks were ruddy from exertion, but she still managed to look drop dead gorgeous. Sure, she was a bit short, but she had thick, glossy hair that fell half way down her back in russet waves, sparkling blue eyes, full lips, creamy pale skin, and a bangin' body.

She glared after Fletcher, indignant that he was leaving her behind in the dust. How rude, she thought to herself, crossing her arms over her voluptuous chest. She was jealous, of course. She was used to having Fletcher to herself. Not that she cared a lick about Fletcher, but she didn't see a reason for him to not want her. But, it appeared that she was second to the man-woman. Inconceivable.

Alda had gotten close to Fletcher while he was a mess during the Games. She was a planner. On the off chance that Heron came back, she wanted to be close to the person closest to her. She wanted to whoo Fletcher so she could reap the benefits of the Victor. And lo and behold, Heron won! Her foresight payed off. She was ecstatic. But her plan hadn't gone as well as she had liked. It was easy enough to befriend the oaf, but it was extremely hard to whoo him. In fact, it was impossible. He was oblivious to her advances, and simply clueless when she was outright. Fletcher was just about the only guy who didn't immediately love her because of her looks, and it made her livid. So, along with her mission to mooch off of Heron through Fletcher, she was also out to force Fletcher to fall for her, just to prove a point.

Fletcher, oblivious as ever, thought Alda was the sweetest girl in existence. She was kind and caring and helpful. She was just such a lovely person that Fletcher was sure that Heron would love her too, and they all three could be friends. Though, at the moment, as Fletcher diligently plowed ahead toward his ally's house, his every thought was away from Alda and pointed directly toward Heron.

Finally her house came into view and Fletcher ran the rest of the way. He jumped up the steps two at a time, and threw himself against the door. It opened almost immediately, like Heron had been waiting right behind it, and Fletcher surged forward and scooped Heron into a back-breaking hug, swinging her around. "Alllllllly." He sang happily. "Hiiiii." He set her down after a few rotations and grinned brightly at her. "How's it going, huh? Lonely up here in this big old house?" His words flew out faster than he could think. "It's been too long, I have missed - Oh yea!" He cut of suddenly, his hand flying to his forehead. "I forgot! I brought someone for you to meet!" He spun around, and saw that Alda was standing in the doorway, having run the rest of the way there after seeing Fletcher hug Heron like that. Jealousy burned in her chest - He never hugged her like that! - but she put on the sweetest smile, and stepped over the threshold. She stood next to Fletcher, and looped her arm though his, stacking her claim. She met Heron's eye, a covert challenge. "Hey there. It's an honor to meet you! I'm Esmeralda." She beamed at Heron, thinking she would be as easy to win over as Fletcher.

[Tsarashi 2.0]

---

After Heron had flung the front door open she found herself in a tight, all-encompassing hug, which wouldn’t have surprised her if he hadn’t taken the bear hug a step further by actually lifting her off the ground and twirling them in circles as if they were dancing one of those strange dances that she had seen people in long flowing gowns perform in the Capitol. Even though she was only wearing a blue blouse that clung to her skin, loose men’s kakis that fell just past her knees, the necklace that Fletcher had given her had flown out of her shirt and her hair was whipping around everywhere, her insides felt warm and fuzzy and she felt at that moment as beautiful as those women looked.

Her look of shock was soon completely over run by the burning blush that claimed territory on her face. But, yet, that too slowly faded as her thin lips blossomed into a great smile, one of few that she would give after returning from the games, only ever given to him. It was a quite marvelous smile, what with her chemically whitened, surgically straightened teeth. But still, no matter how hard she tried, the Victor was still much more masculine than feminine, and needless to say these small changes made her look more like a transvestite than the woman that she was born to be. It was a miracle that Fletcher even bothered with her, in such an awkward transitional stage such as that.

But this was Fletcher we were talking about; he never cared about looks or gender. The brunette only looked for kindness in others, and even if there truly was no kindness there to speak of, he would find some other good in them. But no matter what, under no circumstances whatsoever would he look at someone in a romantic light. He was the king of the ‘friend zone.’ And that devastated Heron every moment thus far since returning to his side. Since she had admitted to herself that she liked him not long after Storm’s death, yet she knew that even if she told him how she felt she would never know how he would reply to it. And she truly was willing to divulge her secret that very day. That is, until she spotted the strange girl running up her walkway.

Heron missed Fletcher’s warmth before he even set her down to stand on her own two feet, er, ‘limbs.’ The lack of contact was practically painful and she wanted desperately to reach out for him, but her curiosity of the stranger got the better of her. Her lips pursed in a frown as she looked from the girl to Fletcher before she blinked, catching his words. “Hm? Lonely. Yeah, I was missin’ you too… who…?” Her unspoken question was quickly answered by both Fletcher and the stranger who was currently introducing herself.

But Heron wasn’t able to tear her eyes from the woman’s offending arm that wrapped itself around Fletchers. How! How! How dare she!? How arrogant! How disgusting. Heron’s eyes narrowed as a strange new feeling flooded her body, tingling to every limb, urging her to punch the bitch. That was Heron’s first ever, true, taste of jealousy. It was if blood had flooded her vision. It was as if her body was on fire, ready to fight to claim what was hers. It was as if she was back in the arena again. It was terrifying. But what was the most terrifying part was knowing for an absolute fact that she was capable of murder, that she had murdered. It was different than when she had killed Storm; that had been an accident. No, it was more akin to when she had attempted to kill Katie at the end, when she was more than willing to kill to get back to Fletcher.

”I’m sure you are.” Heron replied to the words that she hardly even heard. The girl’s sweet smile did nothing to calm the murderous jealousy that fuelled her blood. Heron had to force herself to calm down, so not to alert either of them to this new development in her psyche. When she was calm enough to take an intake of breath that didn’t resemble a gasp the teen newly wealthy teen could get a better look at her competition.

She was beautiful, with long flowing reddish hair and bright, shining eyes. Her lips were plump and her cheeks were rosy. She was a good head and a half shorter than her and Fletcher, but her body fit the stature perfectly, being petite and curvy. And her chest! Never in her life has she seen such a chest that could compare to the medically altered women of the Capitol, and yet here was one standing right in front of her, linking arms with the man she loved, and it was natural! Heron self-consciously crossed her arms over her flat, nonexistent chest. She was absolutely beautiful! And she was also every single thing that Heron was not in being a woman.

‘She’s not human.’ A voice in the back of her head told her. It was the same phrase that had gotten her through the games. It was those words that allowed her to kill. But she couldn’t allow herself to succumb to mental tricks now, of all times! She would not become another crazy Victor! Heron tore her eyes from the woman to look at Fletcher and she had to choke back her jealousy, anger and guilt. She wouldn’t let him see her in such a weak mental state again! She wasn’t the girl crying on his shoulder after being newly reaped anymore! Finally, Heron bit her inner lip and asked him, “New friend?” every moment ignoring the cold sweat that was forming at the back of her neck.

Did she want to know why she was receiving such a violent reaction to such a small change in her life?

[Eastern Orange]

Fletcher looked down at his arm looped through Esmeralda's and over at Heron. Thinking Heron would want to join in, he reached over and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, dragging her closer so that they were one big happy family. Esmeralda had to bite her tongue so she wouldn't hiss. "Yup!" He answered Heron, stirring the girls outside so they could go on a walk. "Esa helped me out while you were away."

She really had done nothing to help him in anyway, but with guy like Fletcher, all someone has to do is smile, and he'd think it was the greatest curtsey in the world. Alda laughed daintily and playfully slapped Fletcher's arm. "Oh you, you are being modest. Fetcher was the one who helped me. He saved my life you know." She looked around Fletcher, to see Heron's reaction. Alda has perfected the art of man-stealing and making others jealous of her, and saying that Fletcher saved her life was just a way to get Heron jealous. Fletcher had told Alda about the mine cave-in, and she knew by saying Fletcher had also saved her, she was making Heron feel less special. It took all her will power to not laugh manically and keep an innocent expression on her face.

Fletcher just smiled at Alda, not really knowing what she was referring to, and not knowing enough to call her out on it. Fletcher just turned his attention toward Heron, who he was more concerned about at the moment, since they hadn't talked in for what seemed like forever. Alda gaped in horror at him, not believing that he would snub her. "Ally, you said that you something important to tell me today, what was it?" He inquired, pulling her in closer, worried that she was having a bad time adjusting back into 'normal' society. He looked over at Alda and smiled politely. "Do you mind if we have a minute?" Alda's face turned purple with rage, furious that he was asking her to step away. She made an effort to brighten her face. "Sure thing, sweetie." She squealed. She untangled her arm from his, stood on her tiptoes, and planted a kiss on his check before skipping away feeling victorious. Fletcher just shrugged it off and looked back at Heron.

[Tsarashi 2.0]

---

Heron stiffened when Fletcher wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and for a minute it felt as if she was being dragged out of her house, her upper half was being forced forward, yet her legs refused to move for the first few steps. What she would have given for this contact a mere four minutes ago, but now she was hesitant. Her pent up post-Games emotions were being pulled taut like never before and she in no way used to that. Other than the nightmares, Heron had felt relatively normal after returning home, she didn’t suffer the Post Traumatic Stress symptoms that other victors had. Maybe she should have. Maybe if she did then she wouldn’t be pumped and ready to kill this stranger for simply touching the only person who had truly been there for her. Perhaps she had been taking advantage of Fletcher?

”Saved my life…” Esmeralda’s voice rang through Heron’s head like nails on a chalkboard. Her mind was sent reeling, painful bloodlust, rage, frustration, confusion and betrayal swamped her logical mind and she could feel the pressure sinking to her sinuses. How was that possible? She knew that Fletcher was a nice guy, and he would easily save another, but for him to find a girl who was head over heels with him?! Was Heron so different from normal women? Did she truly never have a chance to be by his side!?

Then it happened. Fletcher brought up the fact that she had wanted to talk to him, and on top of that that bitch kissed him! And just like that it was as if someone had flipped a switch in her mind. Her mind cleared of all thoughts and her face fell stoic as she watched the woman joyfully leaving their side so that she and Fletcher could ‘talk’. Her eyes were completely devoid of emotion as she forced her head away from him to stare at the grass. That oh so lucky grass that didn’t have to bother with animate life. That didn’t have to bother with Love and fear and heartbreak. How she wished she could be that blade of grass.

”No. That’s alright.” Heron murmured to the wind before her, her voice was soft and sad on the breeze, yet at the same time warm and loving. A ghost of a smile played upon her lips as she stepped away from his touch, letting his hand fall from her shoulders. ”It isn’t important anymore.” Not important at all, her mind told her, not human. But yet, the calm that had settled within her would only be short lived, for it was that deadly calm before the storm that may or may not come. That storm that no forecaster could have predicted.

[Eastern Orange]

Fletcher's anxiety immediately spikes, his excitement from earlier vanishing like vapor. He struggled with his worry for awhile, wrestling it, shoving it in a dark place, and forced a smile on his face. He had to be that bubbly guy for Heron; he couldn't be dark or serious. It was his job to the carefree one, soothing those around him. It had always been that way.

Fletcher isn't as airy and light hearted as he lets on. In reality, he is constantly in a state of stress; stress over his ailing mother, his little brother, paying the bills, getting food, premature death and what that would entail for his family, and now whether or not Heron is going to have a psychotic break down. But can he show that? Can he just drop everything and scream and show everyone that he is just one guy? No. He can’t. He has to be the pillar, the foundation, the support beam in the lives of his family and Heron. He isn’t allowed to show any weakness ever, because if he did, everything would fall to shit. Who would take his place? No one, everything and everyone depended on him.

Fletcher may be oblivious when it comes to things pertaining to himself, but he is painfully aware of the woes of others.

“Heron.” He says softly, using her name instead of the diminutive. “What’s wrong? You know you can tell me anything right? Is it your night terrors again? I worry about you up here all alone at night. I’d come and stay with you if you wanted, but my mama is still sickly and I can’t leave Haydon there alone. You could come stay with me some days if you need to. Mama has been asking about you, and we’d get to hang out more.” Fletcher is desperately trying to sound cheerful. Heron’s seemingly quick mood swing had alarmed him, so he did the only thing he could think of – talk.

“Did you know that ‘blue’ tastes like grass, which is green, but ‘green’ tastes like blueberries which are blue. Don’t you find that funny? But ‘grass’ doesn’t taste like blue, it’s bitter. While you were in the Games and I was eating something gross, I’d just say your name. Heron.” He smiles brightly. He leans closer to her, whispering in her ear. “I have to call that girl Esa, because her full name is worse tasting than the c-word. I almost threw up when she told me.” He leaned back, feeling slightly queasy by just imagining the taste. The mention of Esa made Fletcher think of something else. “It’s a good thing I have you. You are the only one that understands my…oddity. When I first told you, you just accepted it…Esa laughed at me and thought I was joking.”

Fletcher ventured to touch her again – just a light hand on her arm, a small connection to provide support and comfort. “It’s still you and me against the world, Heron.” He said seriously, catching her eye. “You can come to me for anything.” Reiterating what he said before.

[Tsarashi 2.0]

---

Blue eyes widened when her company spoke her name. It had been so long since he had called her by her name that it almost felt foreign falling from his lips, yet it wasn’t an unwelcome gesture. Her heartbeat increased as she dared a brief glance up at him before quickly shunning her eyes away from him once more to hide the burning scarlet that was creeping up her neck and kissing her cheeks. She longed for him to say her name again, over and over until she exploded from childish delight; which made her question herself once more. Was what she felt for Fletcher truly real, or was it simply a figment of hallucination brought on by the relatively new estrogen pills that she was being given?

She argued with herself that the feelings were her own, since she had admitted them to herself in the arena, long before any pill crossed her palate. Or was that simply stress brought on from the moment? She had just killed the closest thing to a true friend that she had ever had aside from Fletcher, and she was longing to be held. Was it all simply a figment of her imagination? Still, Heron liked to believe that it wasn’t.

The cold that had filled her began to slowly melt as the frost does in the morning, Fletcher’s words being the sun that slowly warmed her soul. But yet, she couldn’t allow herself to unfreeze, for if she unfroze the heartache would only hurt more. “Nothin’ is wrong. Let me just tell you…” Tell him what? What could she possibly say with that woman so near that wouldn’t backfire on her? “…some other time.” Heron continued, deciding that that would be the best course of action; some other time when Esmeralda was not looming in the background like an ungrateful vulture. When Heron didn’t have the weight of the world pounding at her sinuses and balanced precariously upon her shoulders.

And yet, Fletcher was still trying to lighten her load. Offering to her a place to stay? That was both overly generous of him as well as overly ambitious. Heron knew for a fact that his home hardly fit his small family of three, and with one additional person there was no way that they would be able to make ends meet. Yes, she would be more than willing to help, but then again came the matter of her not knowing if Fletcher would take her money or not. Yes, it would mean that they would spend more time together, and she could only flush at the thought of sleeping in the same space as him, but it wasn’t worth the risk of his household spiraling out of the routine normalcy that they have strived to maintain.

“I’ll think about it.” Heron mentioned softly, her voice solemn. That was the only reply that she could think to give him, and she hoped with all of her being that he wouldn’t question her. If anything a better solution would be to transport him and his family up to the Victor’s village to live in Heron’s home once his mother was less ill. She certainly had rooms to spare in that lofty, over sized monstrosity of a house.

If a chill could flinch and run to seek refuge than Heron’s certainly did just at that moment when he started talking the way that he always used to when they were together. The freeze that was just beginning to settle inside her heart shuddered at the indecipherable babble that fell from his mouth that only Heron could understand, and it ran to hide once again out of view. But she didn’t let the heartwarming change show on her face. It was his random spontaneity that had captured Heron’s eye the first time they had truly talked and enticed her to further investigate him. If it wasn’t for his uniqueness Heron probably would have never bothered to brush his surface to realize that he was made out of pure gold, and was the best thing to ever happen to her.

She dared one more peek at him when he started talking about Esmeralda. His close proximity didn’t seem to faze him much, but it confused her heart with flutters of happiness while she was still trying to recover from her rage, fear, frustration and the chill. The way he spoke highly of her name in comparison to that woman’s made Heron’s soul leap in hope, but as quickly as it happened it was gone and replaced once again with rage upon his following words.

The corner of her eyes stung, tears of anger threatened to fall, but Heron held them back. She hadn’t cried in ages and she wasn’t planning on breaking that good streak. The light touch of his hand on her shoulder brought her out of her ravine and caused her to snap to attention. Before either of them could blink Heron had turned to face him, her hair whipping her in the face as a result, and she grabbed his wrists. Her large hands easily wrapped around his wrists in an almost painfully tight grip that Heron couldn’t control, not with the fire that was aflame behind her eyes.

“Don’t you ever call your gift an oddity again!” The ex-tribute hissed at him, barring her teeth as if she were an enraged animal. “Did she call you that!? Because she’s wrong, Fletcher.” As she spoke Heron raised their arms and pressed them tight against her collarbone to lessen the distance between them. Where once he stood only a mere inch taller than her, now there were four inches that differed in their heights. It was both from her new legs, which were fractionally shorter than her original ones, and also he had grown. But how much had he grown? Was he still growing? Was he growing apart from her?

“Fletcher.” Heron spoke harshly, her misdirected rage filling her voice as she dared herself to gaze deeply into his eyes, those same eyes which she could easily become lost in for hours if given the chance. Heron didn’t care if that woman overheard, in fact, she wanted her to overhear. She wanted that woman to know how important of a person Fletcher was, since from what he had just told her, she obviously didn’t know already. “You’re not odd. You’re wonderful. You’re wonderful, and perfect, and kind, and strong…” Her word’s slowly broke off as the full force of her emotions hit her and her face finally contorted into sorrow, grief, love and weakness. She would only ever show him her weakness.

Not even all of Panem was good enough to see that, and she had kept up a strong front all throughout the games. Sure, she had her moments in the games with Storm, but never had she showed them the full extent of her emotions. Finally she allowed the rest of her sentence to spill out of her mouth, only loud enough for Fletcher to hear, but that was because those words were only for his ears. “Stronger than I’ll ever be…”

[Eastern Orange]

Fletcher stared at Heron with a slightly dumbfounded expression. Then her words penetrated, and he found himself slightly annoyed. He was shocked by his reaction, but he was annoyed nevertheless. “Heron…” He cast about for the proper words. The ditzy air that usually surrounded him suddenly vanished, and he looked at her with serious eyes. “You’re being ridiculous.” The words fell from his mouth like stones, before he could stop them. He realized too late that they were definitely not the right words to say. He knew she’d take them the wrong way, so before she could react he plowed ahead. “I mean, you don’t need to do that. I know I’m weird, and that’s okay with me. You don’t need to protect me like that; I’m a grown man, Heron.” He rolled his eyes, but smiled slightly to show that he wasn’t too terribly mad at her.

“Heron, you are selling yourself short. What do you think I’d have done if I had gone in?” He didn’t have to say where he was talking about. “Do you think I’d have the strength to pull through? Do you think I would have come back? No.” He shook his head sadly. “I would be killed. Probably the first to die. I’m weak, Heron. I’d let them kill me. I wouldn’t even put up a fight. And it wouldn’t even be for noble reasons, I just would be too afraid to fight back. That isn’t being strong.” He whispered the last part, his right hand worked it’s why out of hers, and brushed through her hair. He pulled her into a hug. It wasn’t anything like the playful hug he had given her earlier; it was a hug that erased all space between their bodies. “What you went through…” He seemed to struggle with his words. “Finding the will to keep moving, to not give up after you lost your legs, and you were all alone, that is strength Heron. Not…whatever it is I do.”

Fletcher shuddered against Heron, remembering as the camera panned down her body and stopped on the space where her legs should have been. Seeing that… Fletcher had felt a surge of fear that was quickly burned away by a rush of fury. He had wanted everyone in the arena dead in that instant and wanted to tear the Capitol down brick by brick, and bludgeon everyone he came across. The coldness he felt against his fellow humans, had scared him and he shoved the feelings away. But sometimes those feelings wormed their way back into his brain, making him want to punch the next peacekeeper he saw. He wanted to tell Heron, but he was afraid to. He didn’t think she’d take him seriously. As she had just said, she thought that he was kind, perfect, and wonderful. She couldn’t see him doing something even remotely violent.

[Tsarashi 2.0]

---

Heron scowled as Fletcher spoke to her. His entire demeanor had changed, the way he said her name in that new tone sent a whole new type of shiver down her spine. The word caressed her like a warm embrace, but the illusion was quickly shattered by what he said next. His change was strange, yes, and she appreciated that he was being serious with her, but it would have probably been more welcome had the first words out of his mouth not been ‘you’re being ridiculous.’ She was most certainly not being ridiculous! How was telling things how they were ‘ridiculous‘!?

She also had no idea what he meant by ‘protecting’ him. And she knew that he was a grown man! That was a fact that was very hard for Heron to ignore. Sure, she had sworn to protect him with her life, but she couldn’t see what it was she was she was supposedly protecting him from then. Unless, he meant protecting him from the ’truth’ of his ’weirdness’ then that was absolutely ludicrous! Telling him the truth and protecting him from what he believed to be the truth were two completely different things. She just couldn’t understand why Fletcher couldn’t see that she thought of his ability as more like a super power than a mutant oddity.

“I’m not being ridiculous!” Heron argued, her tone would have been angry if he had still been speaking in his light hearted, airy voice, but instead it came out childish and accusing. It was as if, for the briefest moment, they were acting according their correct roles of ’older’ and ’younger.’ But Heron quickly reeled in her voice and calmed so that they could speak on the same level for at least a short while. “I’m not protecting you. I’m telling you my truths.” And through her eyes they were true, he was perfect, but she knew that was because the person somebody loves is always going to be seen through rose colored glasses.

Though, she wasn’t quite sure if he heard her or not, because he started talking again directly after her last word, cutting her off from saying any more, even though those words were already said quickly to begin with. That was when he started talking about the Games. Why did he have to bring up the Games? She hadn’t been talking about the Games when she spoke of strength. But perhaps to Fletcher the word strength meant something different. Perhaps to him it strictly meant physical strength, or the strength to keep fighting, or the strength to kill a friend. The thing that the Hunger Games taught to be ’strength.’ But that wasn’t the type of strength that she had been taught by her mother, That was a special strength that her parents and brother had, that she did not seem to possess.

Heron looked away from him as he spoke of dying in the Games. That was not a thought she wanted in her mind or an image she wanted haunting her in her dreams at night. Quickly enough though, her mind went blank as he ran his fingers through her hair. Oh what a beautiful power he held over her. His hug was almost stifling, and she stiffened with the unexpected, all encompassing, contact, but quickly she gave in to the warmth, her hands clinging to his shirt since they were already trapped between them. If only Fletcher knew that that simple move had caused her heart to race like a horse on steroids.

The feel of his shudder was disturbing to say the least. Heron hadn’t the slightest idea what was wrong or what he was thinking, but it had always been like that hadn’t it? She could never tell what he was thinking, it was one of those oh-so-mysterious things about him. She could never have been completely sure if what he was saying on the outside matched the inside, Fletcher was just always so pure so it was almost impossible to tell. But she hated the idea that he might be hurting and there was nothing that she could do.

Thankfully their height difference was just enough for Heron to bend her head enough to rest it under his chin. She was frustrated beyond belief that she didn’t know why he was upset, but before she exploded and demanded that he tell her, Heron settled for responding to his words that both stung and scared her. ”I’m not talking about going in or coming out alive. I don’t want to talk about that. I’m talking about here and now.

Your kindness is your strength, that and your ability to accept others for who they are, who I am. I love that so much about you.” There, she said it, she said the word love, even though her voice cracked. They might not have been the exact words ‘I love you,’ but they were probably the closest that she was going to come to saying it at that particular moment in time. But she wasn’t done, far from it. Heron still had a little piece of her mind to give him.

”I envy that about you. I don’t have that strength. I’m strong physically yes, but that doesn’t make me a good person. I’m rude and brash and I anger easily. I mean, its only rational that people get angry once in a while, that just makes you human… But to this magnitude…” Heron broke off for a short while to shake her head, he didn’t truly know how much her anger had been building up inside of her. She would probably admit it to him in detail later, but she needed to calm down before that. It would probably be another day, maybe another week before she admitted everything to him.

And no, you wouldn’t just let them kill you.” The subject of him in the Games was definitely not something that she wanted to talk about, but it needed to be said how wrong he was. ”You would have had somebody kill you so that another person could live. Dieing with a reason would have been better than living without one!”

Heron froze. Had she truly just said that? That was not only cruel, but also untrue. Though some days she felt horrible and didn't want to even get out of bed, and others she just wanted to scream at the world for letting it be her and not Storm, even though she only had one reason she should still be grateful. Even when some days all she wanted was to curl in a ball and die. She still had that one reason for living. A few tears escaped past her barriers, but they were quickly wiped away hopefully before anyone noticed.

“No… I take that back… I have a reason. And I’m holding that reason close, right now...”

[Eastern Orange]

Fletcher’s eyes widened in surprise at Heron’s admittance. He pulled her away from him and held her at an arms length, so he could look at her and see if she meant what she said; if she really meant that she didn’t have a reason to live besides him. He gripped her shoulders tightly, fighting the urge to shake some sense into her. Fletch didn’t like hearing that he was the only reason Heron was still alive: first, what if something happened to him, and second, what if something fucking happened to him?! He already worried about what his family would do if he met an untimely death, but now he’d have to worry about Heron too? If she was serious about him being the only reason to live, he didn’t have to think very hard about what would become of her if he died.

He shook his head, trying to get rid the images of Heron swinging from a noose. He grip her shoulders even tighter, and dropped his head, hiding his face. He struggled for a minute, fighting that darker side of himself that he always kept shoved in the corner. Knowing what he now knew, there was no way he was going to burden Heron with his demons. He was going to make her better. He was going to make it so she could be happy without him. He looked back up on her with that childish grin slapped on his face. “Ally, you really need to come visit mama. She has been asking about you!” He gave an impressive laugh. “’Asking’ tastes weird. It’s not a taste so much as a feeling. It’s kinda ticklish.” He made a weird face. “Euk. Ticklish is spicy. But hey! ‘Spicy’ is sweet.”

[Tsarashi 2.0]

When he took his warmth away from her Heron couldn’t help but frown, she liked being in his arms, not held at a distance. Why couldn’t he just see that!? Did she have to spell out every single word for him to understand what he meant to her? Then he worried her for a second there, his tight grip was starting to hurt her shoulders and it caused her to wince. What if he couldn’t take what she had just told him? She knew that he worried a lot already, but she couldn’t help it if what she had said was the truth. She wasn’t going to sugar coat it, Heron wasn’t that type of person. Sure she ran from the truth sometimes, and she hid things form others, but when she told the truth she said it as it was.

Her body stiffened under his touch as he started talking his nonsense babble again. It was as if he was denying the words that she had just said, as if by talking he could block out the knowledge that she relied on him being there. Yes, it was a heavy burden to bear, she knew that. But she also knew that Fletcher needed someone to carry some of his weight as well. If they could only see eye to eye and aid each other all would work out! “Fletcher…” The victor started, her eyes soft and filled with hurt from him ignoring her. Yes, his silly words were enough to snap her out of whatever had been happening earlier, but they weren’t enough to take her mind off of the fact that he was changing the subject so directly. It hurt.

”Fletch, would you be serious with me? Listen…” But her words didn’t seem to be able to penetrate his force field of ignorance. She needed to know what he truly felt about what she had just admitted or else her heart would shatter. She was spilling her guts out and he was treating it as if they were on a walk in the park! She needed to shut him up somehow… Her eyes traveled to his moving lips, a blush crossed her features. Before she was able to second guess her opinion Heron had wrapped her hands around his neck and pulled him close, entrapping him in a deep, heart pounding kiss. Or at least it was on her end.

It certainly worked like a charm to quiet him. When she finally stopped in her attack she looked up at him shyly, her face burning with embarrassment. She had to look over his shoulder to avoid looking him in the eye. ”Would you just shut up for one minute and listen to what I just told you?” She muttered, suddenly regretting her stupid, brash decisions.

[Eastern Orange]

Fletcher’s asinine words were cut off by the sudden presence of Heron’s lips on his. He was so shocked that he didn’t return the kiss, just stood there and kinda…let it happen. She finally pulled away, and Fletcher was ashamed to admit he was relieved. He was in no way shape or form ready to even began to think about taking that step with Heron, and he definitely did not want to think about what that kiss just made him feel. He struggled to arrange his face into something neutral. “I don’t know what you mean!” He said, sounding only slightly off. He gave an uncharacteristically wobbly smile.

He felt a hand on his arm, and he turned to see Alda standing next to him, fury bubbling behind her baby blues. Fletcher mentally smacked himself. He had totally forgotten she was there. “Oh, what do you think you are doing, you whore? He is mine!” Alda’s once innocent voice was fractured with malice. Fletcher looked at her sideways, momentarily caught off guard by her words.

[Tsarashi 2.0]

Sadness flooded Heron as she looked up at Fletcher with wide, sad eyes. He didn’t know what she meant? What was there not to get? That kiss should have been biggest clue in the world about how she felt about him. All of her other hints were grass in a field compared to that oak tree of a hint! Regret clouded her thoughts, if there was any way to take that back she would have. She should have waited until it was a better time! She should have told him how she felt first and let it progress naturally! She was a stupid idiot for allowing her need to shut him up to take over her. Though, it did seem like a good idea at the time…

Then Esmeralda appeared. Heron’s eyes widened, she had completely forgotten about the woman’s presence! She really was a fool. When she spoke, Heron froze in shock. She knew it! She knew she had a right to be suspicious about that woman! She had no right to even be near Fletcher! The words that fell from her mouth were putrid, they didn’t match the girl’s pretty face, but that was definitely for the best. She didn’t even have the right to have such a pretty face! All of the anger and hatred from the minutes before flooded Heron like a broken dam.

Heron felt her hand slowly curl into a fist, through her eyes she saw red. She was suddenly transported back into the arena, only it was ten times worse. ”Oh! That’s it you fuckin’ bitch” Heron heard herself saying before her fist flew. The contact between her white knuckles and Esmeralda’s beautiful, pristine face was sickeningly sweet. The bloodlust didn’t leave Heron’s system after that, after she watched the woman be thrown to the ground. No, she wanted more. That Bitch wouldn’t live to see tomorrow. She wasn’t human.[/color]

[Eastern Orange]

Fletcher didn’t even see the punch coming, it happened so fast. But once Alda fell to the ground clutching her face, Fletcher jumped into action. “Heron!” He yelled, and grabbed her fists, yanking them to her side. “What are you doing?” He was shocked at Heron’s actions, though he could hardly blame her. He wasn’t all too happy at what Alda had called Heron, but that didn’t mean he wanted her hurt.

Before Fletch could say anything else, Alda was scrambling to get between them. “You fucking bitch! You’re psycho! What the fuck? I should have known that you were fucking unstable! You killed your own ally, you freak!” She was practically screaming the words at Heron. Fletcher’s sympathy for Alda fizzled on the spot, and his want to hurt something rose to the surface. “I’m going to scratch your eyes out!” She screeched, lunging at Heron. With a snarl, Fletcher grabbed her around the waist and tossed her a few feet away (Fletcher didn’t spend hours a day in a hot coal mine swinging around pickaxes for nothin’). Alda stumbled and landed on her ass. She looked up at Fletcher with complete bewilderment.

He turned back to Heron, “Don’t!” He growled at her, not wanting her to do anything rash. Fletcher faced Alda who had picked herself up off the ground, and stormed up to her until he was towering over her. He raised a hand as if to smack her, but stopped himself. “If you ever speak to her like that again, I swear to all that is holy, I will kill you and drop your body down a mine shaft where no one will ever be able to find it, except perhaps a nest of rats. You are lucky I’m letting you go with a warning. I want you to turn around right the fuck now, and don’t look back.” Alda stared at him with eyes round with fear, before she turned tail and ran. Once she had disappeared, Fletcher put his hands to his temples and rubbed them, trying to relieve some of the pressure behind his eyes. Rage was still simmered beneath his skin, which terrified him and gave him a sense of grim satisfaction at the same time.

[Tsarashi 2.0]

When Fletcher restrained her it was half a shock and half expected. Shocked because Heron’s state of mind had been transported to a different time and place at that moment, and Fletcher was not in the arena with her. It was simply her and Esmeralda. But expected because somewhere she knew that he would keep her from hurting anyone, he was always looking out for her. That, and that he just really hated seeing people get hurt, so maybe it wasn’t all because he was protecting her. But she liked to think that he was doing it for her, that he was protecting her from future terrors that would come out of that fight and from the consequences of her actions. She needed to remind herself that that wasn’t the arena, and she wouldn’t be praised on a high horse for killing.

But all the reminders in the world couldn’t keep her from wanting to cause the woman pain. The words the beauty screamed stung like razor blades digging deep within her flesh, each one tearing at her muscles, causing them to tense. Heron struggled against Fletcher’s grip, screaming back at the girl, her eyes wide with fury. ”I’ve always been a freak! Maybe I am psycho! Maybe I am unstable. You should have thought about that before signin’ yourself up for this!”

Heron braced herself for the attack, ready to rip her hands out of Fletcher’s grip and fight back, before he acted before she could. He actually threw the woman! Heron puffed with pride as the red hot anger leaked from her face. His harsh words seemed to be the glue that pieced herself back together again, and slowly the rage left her body as if being vented through him. The adrenaline that had been coursing through her system seemed to disappear, leaving her limbs pale and shaking. Slowly, Heron felt herself fall to the ground on her knees. A smile formed on her lips as she looked up at Fletcher, her light, joyous laughter soon following. That was it, she thought, maybe she really was mad. Her eyes swam with a mirth that had not reached her eyes in a very long time. Seeing him like that, sticking up for her, fighting for her sake. Discovering a new side of him that she had never seen before. The lot of it, it just made her so happy. And finally she found her voice again, it sounded strange because she hadn’t heard herself truly happy in a very long time. ”Fletch… thanks.”