CAP Second place (open)

[Jack Lexington]

Black and grey against painfully bright lights. I lay and stare at the screen across the room. It's nothing new but this time it's decorated with various x-rays of my right arm, my left leg and even my skull.
I swear I've been staring at this screen for an hour when in reality it's only been 10 minutes.
My eyes close as I let my head drop back against the headrest of the exam table I'm on just to be painfully reminded why there is a picture of my head on there as well. How can it hurt so much when I'm filled to the brim with pain killers.
Groaning loudly I allow myself to drift off to sleep while the doctors are taking their sweet time to examine all the injuries I've sustained during the fight with Mark. I guess their done asking questions about my occupation and other stuff that doesn't make sense right now.

Almost 15 hours later I wake up in a totally different setting. It takes me about four attempts to even get my hazy blue eyes open but then I find myself in a bright, welcoming room with flowers on a table and the sun floating in through the window.
I'm under a thick cover on a white bed. There's even some easy listening music filling the air. This must be some sort of special treatment for the pregames finalists. Everything screams happy, fun, relaxation....victor. The only thing that doesn't match the whole scenario is me. A deep frown immediately reaches my features when I remember the fight. What an epic loss!

My eyes stay plastered on the walls that are painted in subtle colors for a while. Then I figure it's time to see whether I've also been given the medical royal treatment.
Not only my left hand is in a splint now but the right arm somehow bound to my chest in an awefully tight upper arm brace. There's some sort of a bandage wrapped around my head and when I move my leg I silently start whimpering because it feels far from victorious.
Holy shit am I ever screwed up!
I can even take a piss by myself like this.
"Fuck." Comes across my lips while my eyes wander up to the ceiling where a set of lights is slowly changing colors in sync with the melodious tune.
So this is what second place feels like.

[*]

Sleep has yet to find my tired eyes. From the moment I had stood outside the door and heard the nurses announce that he was losing too much blood, I froze. For some weird reason, I couldn’t find the strength nor the courage to walk into that room when Gala went ahead of me only to hear his booming voice to get out. That crushed me. Even though I wasn’t in there, I could tell he didn’t want anything to do with people in there. I was the same way when I had lost. I had found myself relying on the company of my friends to help cheer me up. Twice, I had lost. Twice, Gala and Matthew was there, sans the second time for reasons I’d like to forget. However, now? I seem lost within myself as I pace the hospital hallways. One foot in front of the other as I make the same trail over and over again like I did just twenty minutes ago, only stopping in to see if Matthew had awaken. Same answer is given to me when I see his eyes still closed. The monitors above his head still kept up with his vitals but I’d lost hope to see his eyes open when I would be there. So to keep the sleep from taking over me, I left the room again.

The first few hours were the worst. Watching his face grimace even though he was totally out of it. My fingers would trace small lines up and down his hand. My palm would rest against the back of his hand. I found myself a few times nodding off, laying my head down on the side of the bed where our hands would meet when no one was in the room. He’d made it clear he still didn’t want anyone knowing about ‘us’, so the moment when someone would want to enter, any physical touch was abandoned. I hate this. Always having to hide it. Matthew, why are you so ashamed to have someone care about you? To have people know that you have someone to care about you?

“Don’t tell me you still haven’t slept? You've been walking around for hours.” With a scowl, I pass up the nurse’s station, and that one nurse, once again on my en route back to Matthew’s room, and the moment I walk to the doorway just to take a glance at the bed and to see his form laying there with his eye close, there is one thing I notice immediately. I see his eyes open. A small smile comes immediately to my lips and I let one hand rest against the door frame near my face.

”Fuck.” I hear the curse so suddenly and I don’t know whether he saw me to say that or if he was in pain. The last few weeks have been nothing but a pain for both of us and Gala, too. To stay out of the way of the games would definitely be needed. If I can help it, I won’t be volunteering for the games this year. Next year, though, perhaps? When I’m eighteen, definitely. For now, I’m just happy to be with Matthew at this moment cause it’s good to see him awake and talking. If you call cursing, talking? I muse.

“Feel up to some company?” I ask, my voice low and almost whispered because I don’t want to startle him again like he was when Gala had walked in. That was the most horrid feeling ever having to comfort her after something like that. It was definitely something I don’t want to have to go through again. So, I take baby steps right now. I let my gaze wash over his entire form. My eyes find the wrapping around his head to be the most painstaking. I understand pain like that. Today, I don’t hide behind the gauze on my face. It’s starting to heal up alright enough, but it’s something I’ve had to come to terms with. The mark will never really leave me. It will heal, lighten and fade away slowly into just a scar, but it will forever be a reminder that I fight to protect who I am. Seeing Matthew just lying there hurts me though. I don’t want to see him in any more pain than he already is in. Especially since my new foe is the reason. Both Matthew and I, together, hate him, though for reasons opposite of each other.

[Jack Lexington]

MATTHEW DUNHAM

Dark...is not exactly the right term to define what my mood looks like. It's pretty close though. Unhappy isn't the right word nor is disappointed, nor hateful or down low. But all of those little adjectives put together pretty well sum it up.
Each tiny little move, be it the turning of my head or twisting of my hand, are agonizing and I can only imagine how long it will take to recuperate from this mass of injuries. Not days but weeks or even months. I haven't talked to anybody yet, nor do I want to.
What's worse is feeling like a looser though.

While I'm dwelling in my mystery and lay stiff as a board in that oh so nice bed I hear somebody's voice asking whether I'm up for some company.
Heck "No." I respond in a voice that's probably too low to hear.

My eyes search around for a bit because my vision seem slightly distorted. In the doorframe I spot Kyanite. For a brief moment I feel some sort of delight to see her but then it's gone as quickly as it came. What is she doing here? I guess she wants to be nice but right now it's not appreciated.

I try to move a little to lift my but all that happens is a helpless shrug and frown.
I really don't need her to see me like this. Why would she come at all I've let her and everybody else down. Mark didn't go home with a scar on his face like I promised.

"What do you want?" I ask her in the most impolite tone my croaky voice allows.

[*]

I stretch my neck up slighty to see beyond the covers that are pulled up to his chest and laying just perfectly against his body, outlining where he is laying. He's still. Not moving much as I see him try to but quits. I want to grimace at the sight of him laying in bed. Last time he didn't seem this way. Something about him was screaming different, but I force myself to abandon that thought and I begin to make my appearance known by asking to sit with him. His mouth moves slightly but his words aren't heard. So, I take a few steps in and stand near the wrap around couch for visitors. The one thing I notice right off is the pain he is in because of the frown I could see on his face for one split second.

"What do you want? The tone hurts. The aggrivation in his voice I can slightly hear but I know he's just hurting right now. How he asks me what I want though is tempting to just go up to him and hug him, but for some reason, I feel that's the last thing he wants. It was the last thing I wanted when I was in his position. When I had lost; twice. I take a few more steps closer to him to the point that I'm just a few feet away from his bed. I shrug to his question.

"What do I want?" I echo his question and nod my head. His voice is telling me everything I need to know right now. I'm not wanted here and judging by the rest of the way the room had looked in the last several hours, I must be the most determinded person since I'd never left. He has no clue though. "To make sure the nurses are doing their job." I plainly state and take a seat on the couch nearest to his bed, crossing my left leg over my right and leaning back. I let my head connect with the wall behind me.

"If you'd rather me leave and come back later, I can. I'm sure you're probably really sore, with what happened and all." To be taken two different ways, is what I meant to do. Exactly what he helped me deal with after my loss against Kayghna; the emotional and physical pain. I uncross my legs and walk over to his bed, looking over his face and at the hair that is gone now. Without concent, I lean down and quickly kiss his cheek and lean back up. I offer a sympathetic smile. "It's probably best to let you rest. I should probably go home and do the same. The nurses are getting tired of seeing me pace this place. I swear the nurse at the nurse's station is thinking I'm a zombie the way I've not slept all night."

I place a hand on the exposed part of his arm, and bite on my bottom lip; hard. I hate to see him like this, but at least I know I got to see him wake up and he wasn't alone when he did even though he didn't seem to want it. So, going home now will be easier on my nerves. Still, leaving him now that he's awake will bother me just the same.

[Jack Lexington]

I can't stand to look at her even though she's the one person closest to me right now. I might have asked her what she wants but truth be told I don't even listen. I only care about what I want and that is not to be here, not to hurt, not to be a looser. I don't want her here right now.
But I'm unable to get those words across my lips. Instead I watch her sit down in one spot, then come a little closer and finally walk towards me behind a mask of a deep set frown.
"To make sure the nurses are doing their job." She explains her being here but we all know that's bullocks. She simply wants to be close, which would be appreciated under different circumstances.
"If you'd rather me leave and come back later, I can. I'm sure you're probably really sore, with what happened and all." She goes on stating the obvious and I'm about to nod but the slightest movement aggrovates the back of my head and makes a headache spread that i really don't want.
So I simply mumble. "Hm."
Sore..."If only I was sore." My voice comes out barely audible again because the words aren't meant for her.
She walks on over to me until I can feel her hair dangling down on my face and she kisses me. Right now I don't want to be kissed. Not even by her. So I slowly turn my face away.
"Not a good time." I try to explain. It's not about her.
Then she goes into a lengthy explanation that she's stayed up all night because of me. What a sweet girl, so caring and devoted. Unfortunately to the wrong guy.
"The nurse is right..." My voice starts cracking. I'm overly emotional, so I make it quick. "You should go."

My gaze falls on her hand on my arm below that brace that's holding my humerus together. That bit is about all the function I have left. Not even enough to eat or poke my nose.
"Thanks for coming." I tell her and close my eyes before I can become rude to her, the one person who really doesn't deserve it.
But there's too much bundled up disappointment in me right now to have any sort of different conversation.

[*]

To kiss Matthew is the only way I can see if he's truely in pain or if he's blocking me out. With just the subtle touch of my lips against his skin, he shows me what I need to know. He turns his head away. He does the exact same thing to me that I did to him when we had fought. When I didn't want him around. Karma can be a bitch... I suck it up though. I don't want to let him see that it has upset me. Though, me and him are different. Whereas, he doesn't care to apologize and isn't used to relationships, my emotions rule over me as of late. Every since that one day that me and Matthew met under the weirdest of circumstances then the woods and from then on, he's opened up a part of my heart that I had locked down and seal with every fiber only to have me regretting it now. Now, I began to feel the rejection I had dreaded once again from him. I know he don't mean it. I know I should be more understanding, but when he tells me it's not a good time for 'us', it seems more personal now. I keep struggling to keep up a good front though until he tells me I should go.

With what I can muster, I bite even harder on my lip before hearing him thank me for coming. I take a step back. I nodd my head. I watch his eyes close and I take an arrow through the heart. I take another step back then turn around. Not a sound comes from me and I know it's best to leave well enough alone for now. Anger begins to well up in me. A type of guilt for ever letting Mark get near Matthew. My measly promise has suddenly made Matthew resent me in all forms. My mind is clear though. Mark had done the ultimate cheap shot in my mind. He has changed the only guy in my life into someone I don't even know. What I wouldn't give to have that victor Matthew back. The smiles and comfort that I enjoyed about him instead of what I just saw.

I exit the door without even turning around.

Halfway down the hallway, I hear a nurse asking me if I was alright when she sees me heading for the door, only to feel a certain wetness leave my chin. I reach up to take that feeling away. I never cry. So why am I? Why do I let myself become attached to people when the ending is always the same? I use my casted hand to push the door open hard and take my leave from the hospital. I have no idea where my next destination will be, but it has to be as far away from this hospital as possible.

[Jack Lexington]

Kyanite does exactly what I asked her to do. She takes one step away from me, then the next...but at the very same time guilt strikes me. Why do I have to take my own issues out on her?
The next step spins her around and she's out the door while I call her name one time only. I'm not sure whether she heard it or not. But what she leaves behind is even worse than before. Add: Guilt to my pile of bad feelings.

For a moment I stare at the door hoping she'll come back but nothing happens. Then I hear footsteps. My hopes are up for her to return just for one second until I see a nurse enter the room and say I a matter of factly yet friendly way. "Slept enough? How are you doing?"
My eyes flicker to her before I shake my head. "Leave me alone."
"No can do..." She chirps a little too happy before starting to fiddle around with a chart.
I can only close my eyes and ignore her as much as I can while I could slap myself for pushing Kyanite away.

The day is long, way too long because it's filled with painful checks and bad news. Not that I won't recuperate. Nope, my leg's are 'just' flesh wounds, the back of my head 'just' a cut with a minor concussion and my arm 'just' a break without any nerve damage...just...just ...just. And all that is JUST going to take about 6 to 8 weeks to heal with an outlook of 6 months of physio therapy to get back to full use.

I honestly want to cry right now but I feel lost.

So I resort to staring at the paterns of the wall paper, in between I sleep, and then stare at the wall again. They offer me TV to watch some news or maybe the recap of the fight but I decline.
Maybe Kyanite is better off some place else. Maybe she should go and find herself a nice, pretty boyfriend, the winning type.

That day I don't even eat anything.
My father comes by to visit me and praise the wonderful fight, assures me that anyone could have made those mistakes and how proud he is. He even asks whether I'll volunteer in this years games. Like Kyanite I ask him to leave.

The next day doesn't look better only that I'm fully aware now how limited I really am. I have no hand to hold a crutch to support my injured leg nor can I wheel myself around in a wheel chair. I'm completely confined to my bed so by the end of the day I've fished a pair of scissors from the counter nearby and cut off the cast that protects my severed fingers to at least be a able to use that hand. Don't ask how I did it...just that I was determined enough to get the thing off. Half way through, and mind you my right arm really hurts from all the turning and ripping of the scissors, the metal object slips from my hand and lands with a metallic sound under my bed.
For a second I stare down at the squeaky clean floor before I loose it and start balling my eyes out. I sit there, bundled up in gauze and casts sobbing like a baby who just lost his soother. 'Just' desperate.
If only she'd come back to rescue me from this hell.

[Cameo {RIP Charlie}]

Gala Thomas
Age Thirteen
District Two

Right after the final battle Gala witnessed Matthew the most upset he's ever been in her eyes. Sure he become furious at her a few times due to her constant ways of doing the opposite of what's she's told or pushing for information she shouldn't be. This time was much different and actually wasn't a result of Gala causing trouble. The stronger career out there is her trainer, and some how he lost the pregames. How this actually happened? She couldn't explain it. The weapons were lost and the misses began, the opponent grabbed his weapon and it was over. It's unfair, the judges should of allowed Matt to pick up his weapon for one last swing then determine the winner. But it's over now, and for some reason he blames himself.

Go to the hospital, or sleep at home first? Either way Gala was going to make it the hospital, whether her sisters approved or not. The one person aside from her trainer, Kyanite, convinces the young career to get some rest for and that'd she watch over Matthew at the hospital. Too tired to argue Gala agrees and promises to see them both bright the next morning; it doesn't happen though. Of course her sisters are furious over another crippled adventure by one of the youngest. So breaking out the next day isn't as easy as a few decide to skip school to keep the young career company at home. How kind of them.

By the next day though Gala has them all wrapped around her lies and acting abilities as she plays weak and unable to move from even her bed. After a good ten minutes after they leave, she's not so sore anymore. The nice break away from being around them all must of erased the memories of the compulsive liar. Still she's far from fully recovered and takes a nice chunk of the day traveling. Determination does reach her to the hospital though, and soon enough she's at a desk with another bundle of lies.

"He's my brother." Gala explains to one of the nurses, her voice slow and loud as if the older lady was stupid. "Now tell me where which damn room!" She demands but allows an innocent smile to follow. The fib or the death glare must of done it because the nurse gives the number and points in the general direction. "Thanks." She mocks the perky attitude she stole from the worker.

Of course the little one's first instinct is to reach for the doorknob and enter without permission. She even desires to continue through even though her minds telling her to knock. Why be polite all of a sudden? Well the last time Matthew didn't seem to be in the best mood, and Kyanite was following him to the hospital. Not wanting to take any chances for the first time in quite a while she actually knocks and waits a response. "10....9....." She begins counting slowly, figuring at the very worst they'd just have to stop kissing, right? "2...1." She slowly opens the door because waiting for approval was pushing it too far for the little one. They might start expecting this good attitude, yeah right.

"They've gone unarmed!" Gala's voice isn't too loud and mimics a guy narrating a fight. "But Mark picks up his club again!" She enters the room pretending to have a weapon armed in her good hand, swinging around nothing like Mark was doing. "Crunch!" She makes the sound effect as she reenacts the ending. The fake weapon leaves her hand and she grips her cast and purposely falls to the floor. "Another break folks! And that seems to have wrapped up our final battle." She gets up with a small smile sticking to her innocent face. "Now we're twins, I broke my right arm to." She states the obvious as her voice goes back to normal.

[Jack Lexington]

She couldn't have picked any worse moment...ever!
Who would want to get caught crying by his student? How much more embarassing could it possibly get?
Quickly I look away to hide my bright red face just to hear her do a mock commentary of the fight I so shamefully lost. Doesn't she get how much I want to wipe that day from my memory? And here she is 'reviving' it for me and everybody else who might be listening in...I don't get why she'd do that...until I look over and see her rolling on the floor.
That sight alone suddenly makes me laugh. I guess I'm so desperate that laughing is my only option.
"Looks like it." I wipe my left elbow over my face as she comes closer and the smile slowly drops from my face.
"You little brat." I comment on the show she's just put on for me.

How did she even know that Mark broke my arm, was it that obvious?
My eyes fall on her arm that's neatly wrapped in a hanging cast. "I guess I got away without the twin outfit." The upper arm brace is barely visible under the pretty hospital outfit but the sling around my wrist, that acts as support, is. Still better than a cast. Unfortunately I'm still almost helpless.

It doesn't take long until I sniff up a droplet that threatens to give away my current state of mind. Who cares if she knows? I do!
"What are you doing here, Gala?" My eyes fall onto the scissors on the floor.
"Did Kyanite send you?" She must have, The two girls have become very close lately.

[Cameo {RIP Charlie}]

The performance brings out the tittle little brat from Matthew. Those words usually makes Gala furious when her sisters call her that, but by the tone of her trainer's voice it's not that insulting. He's probably just feeling under the weather, with no strength to have an ounce of anger over the little one being there. After all he had to of known she'd be showing her innocent face. How not? She's his trainee and did the same thing when she was in the hospital not to long ago. She disregards the name with a smile, determined to bring a little light to Matthew.

"You'll have it soon enough." Gala response to Matthew's comment of not having the twin outfit due to his lack of a casted arm. "Are you left handed to? Cause it's going to suck if you're not." She's unable to help but throw in a joke despite her trainer's sorrowful eyes.

The twins are nearly the youngest despite the baby of the family, just one year younger then them. She's the only one that really cries, and sometimes she seems years younger then the twins. Currently Matthew has a slight resemblance to the way she would cry; though his face isn't as bright red, and his voice isn't raspy from screaming. Still his eyes are red, cheeks stained with wiped away tears. He's really upset over losing the last battle. Being so close to winning the entire pregames, who wouldn't be? Guilt sets into Gala even if she had no control over the outcome. Maybe if she screamed louder....or if her and Kyanite didn't have that fight, it could of distracted him.

The smile from Gala's silly performance fades from Matthew's face. He questions what Gala was doing there. When she was in the hospital she was dying for company that wouldn't arrive, but for some reason her trainer doesn't want any. Being upset was one thing, but why deny friends? Instead of taking the rejection that her trainer clearly didn't want her there, she takes a seat a couple of feet from his bed. "Did Kyanite send you?" He questions, but what did Kya have to do with this?

"I hardly listen to you, why would I listen to her?" Gala still continues with attempting the jokes, even if it's not true. Lately she's actually been listening to Matthew and Kyanite, which is odd for her to say the least. "Why would you want to be here alone? It's boring as..." She wouldn't actually curse, she wasn't daring enough for that. With a giggle she goes silent and sinks into her chair.

What was bothering Matthew was obvious, Gala didn't even have to consider it. Losing really effected him, and it hurt his trainee just as much. Seeing him like this, defeated, wanting nothing more then to be alone. That was the surprise part. Both Kyanite and Gala lost, with Kya being the second strongest career out there. They both lost to Mark, who clearly has something bad up his sleeves. To the young career it all makes sense, but for some reasoning it's draining Matthew.

"You kicked ass." Gala chimes in through the silence. "The judge called it too early...if you just grabbed your weapon, you would of beat Mark!!!" She felt a need to defend even though Matthew was saying nothing. She huffs from the burn in her lungs, that now occurs whenever she gets worked up, and leans back in her seat. "So how are you?..."

[Jack Lexington]

"You'll have it soon enough." Gala response to Matthew's comment of not having the twin outfit due to his lack of a casted arm. "Are you left handed to? Cause it's going to suck if you're not."
I listen to her with only half an ear but what she says doesn’t help at all to better my crappy mood.
“Did you come to stomp me into the ground some more?” I ask sarcastically without looking at her and wonder whether she knows more than I do.
I surely hope they won’t exchange the brace that only wraps around my upper arm for a complete cast. I’m helpless enough as it is.


Against what I though Gala tells me that Kyanite didn’t send her.

"I hardly listen to you, why would I listen to her?" She claims and I believe every words because she never listens. That’s a problem. Yet I like her. Not today though. "Why would you want to be here alone? It's boring as..."

“…fuck.” I add for her. “You’re right. “ I give her a stern look but don’t tell her why I don’t want visitors. Only that “It’s complicated.”

I would have to tell her that I’m embarrassed about my loss and how I let everybody down, who expected me to win. I wasn’t the role model she deserved.
I’m disappointed with myself and currently wearing all that on my sleeve.


"You kicked ass." Gala chimes. That’s when I jump in objecting loudly rolling my eyes. “I did not. You don’t know what you’re talking about. I made two crucial mistakes!” My face has turned angry together with my whole posture tensing up.

When I look over at her again I know she’s not the one my anger should be directed at. She comes from her own stand point and for her my performance might have been good.
So I let out a long breath and shake my head. “The judge called it because he won by points. Plus I couldn’t have picked up a weapon anymore.” My left hand was useless due to the missing fingers and the damage Ky’s knife had done weeks ago and the right arm broken. How did she expect me to club him?

“How are you?” She asks but I can only moan. “Wonderful! Great room, awesome staff, cable TV, what more could I possibly want? Other than to win the freaking pregames and not become the joke of the fight?”

This whole conversation is going nowhere and proofs why I didn’t want visitors. There’s just no point…unless…
I raise my chin and motion for her to come over to my with the bottom part of my right arm.
“Instead of annoying me with your stupid cheerfulness you could give me a hand.”
Once she’s close enough I point to the pair of scissors under my bed.
“Help me cut that cast off.” Of course she’ll object so I explain to my partner in crime. “I don’t need it anymore. I was just supposed to protect my reattached fingers during the fight. I can’t even take a piss by myself like this, c’mon, gala. Be a good sport.” Am I really begging my trainee for help. Another point where I’ve sunken very low.

“Don’t tell Ky about this if you talk to her again.” I know the older girl won’t like it.

My eyes are pleading with her even though I just want to boss her around like usual.

[Cameo {RIP Charlie}]

“Did you come to stomp me into the ground some more?” Matthew questions angrily and only confuses Gala. What did she do? An attempt to help appears to be mean remarks to lower her trainer's confidence? Yeah right. She was so proud of him for making it so far, getting in so many good hits, but he didn't see it that way one bit. How was she suppose to convince him? There's no other solution then to try to get some more laughs out of him.

"I must really suck at cheering people up?" She asks with a light giggle, wondering what she was doing wrong.

At least Matthew finishes the little one's last word as she avoids cursing. A small grin formed on her face. Progress, she figured. He even agrees that the room is boring, though finishes it off with the typer it's complicated. If anything Gala should be the perfect person to talk to, being completely from the relationship aspect that Kyanite and her trainer have. She's even proofed to be the best at keeping secrets. As long as one doesn't mind a sarcastic remark, and advice only a little one could give, she's perfect.

"Of course." Gala mumbles, figuring he already told it all to Kyanite and just doesn't want to do a repeat. The whole be the youngest thing's difficult. Even when she tries to convince Matthew that he still did an amazing job, he just claims that she doesn't know what she's talking about. With an eye roll she gives another loud huff sound. Still she wasn't going to give in that easily. Anyone who knew Gala knew she doesn't go down without a good fight. None of them do. If only Matthew would realize that.

All of Gala's reasonings get rejected. The way Mark won was by points, though it seems impossible to keep damage tally with everything occurring so quickly. Apparently Matthew was unable to pick up his weapon again. Now seeing him in bed with both of his hands crippled it's obvious but from the audience view, and with Gala's bad eye sight, she couldn't tell. "Right..." She vocalizes her understanding with a soft voice. But no matter what he was going to say, her mind wasn't going to change.

“Wonderful! Great room, awesome staff, cable TV, what more could I possibly want? Other than to win the freaking pregames and not become the joke of the fight?” At least Matthew's sarcasm was back. Even with his voice still filled with anger it brings a smile to his trainee's face. He's little by little going back to his old ways.

"If you're a joke, what does that make us that didn't even make it the final round?" Gala attempts questioning the obvious. "Let alone a battle with weapons." Her voice holds a light giggle behind it. She didn't want to make Matthew feel guilty over feeling bad, but she wants him to see how far he reached. "If it makes a difference, I'm really proud of you...and Kya is to."

“Instead of annoying me with your stupid cheerfulness you could give me a hand.” Matthew asks. The rudeness doesn't even bother Gala and she concentrates on the opportunity to help out. She jumps from the chair and scurries across the root, her eyes following Matthew's point to under the bed. A pair of scissors appear to be out of place as it randomly lays on the floor. “Help me cut that cast off....I don’t need it anymore. I was just supposed to protect my reattached fingers during the fight. I can’t even take a piss by myself like this, c’mon, gala. Be a good sport.” But he doesn't even need to explain himself. Before he even finishes she's reaching under the bed to grab it, and immediately places it in his lap. “Don’t tell Ky about this if you talk to her again.”

"Deal." Gala agrees to keep her lips shut. This was her small opportunity to proof that she's useful even in the most down of times. "Need any help?" She offers with a tiny grin. "If you'r fingers fall off don't blame me though." She cracks another joke.

[Jack Lexington]

Apparently Gala is useful for far more than I thought. Shr has a way of connecting with me that nobody else has. I think it'a her reckless ways and the fact that she simply doesn't care about authority that I can relate to. The sarcasm helps as well.
She asks what it makes all of them who haven't made it to the final battle. Right now I don't care about her or Kyanites feelings about their losses because in my bood they never stood a chance at the title.
"Second best. That's what it makes us all." I state grimly.
"If it makes a difference, I'm really proud of you...and Kya is to." she says mentioning my 'girlfriend who hasn't shown her face again.
"I doubt it." I let her know. "How can you be proud when I made two huge mistakes? How can she be?"
Who would be proud of a looser...only a blind friend. "Thanks for trying though."

The moment I ask my trainee to help me with the unwanted cast she's on her feet and around the bed practically diving for the scissors and dropping them in my lap, where they just lay.
"Always one for breaking the rules." I comment a little amused at her effort. Gala certainly has a way of making me feel a little better.
With my right arm that is held in place by a sling around my neck I try to reach them by bending down.
I can actually hold the scissors but each twist and turn of that hand only results in enough pain to make me want to go up the wall. "I can't. That's why I dropped them in the first place."
For a moment I wonder whether she's just trying to tease me. She must see the frustration plus she"s got two eyes to see that this can't work. Then she offers her help
"Need any help? If you'r fingers fall off don't blame me though." The picture she's putting in my head is so awkward yet close to the truth that it provokes a brief, sad laugh from me before I hold the scissors out to her. "Go head. Wouldn't make much of a difference anyway." I haven't told anyone but no feeling has returned to those fingers so far and doctors tell me that chances are slim.
I trust Gala to do the job even with her left hand...is she left handed? So I hold still and watch her try to cut the cast off with the small metal tool. It takes a while and a lot of grunting and complaining from her because it's not an easy task but at the end of it she's opened it up enough so I can pull by arm out and eagerly rub it with my other hand. To assure her she's done a good job I hold out all five fingers and wiggle them. Two of them, unsightly scarred, don't follow the motion, but they're still attached.
"Thank you." I breathe a sigh of relieve. "You're a good partner in crime."
I keep rubbing and trying to feel whether I was right about not having any feeling. There had to be some good news about my health around the corner somewhere. Instead my thoughts trail off to Kyanite and because I'm so thankful for Galas help I let her know my fears. "I doubt that Ky will come back here. I was pretty rude to her and shoed her out. She was just here out of pity anyway and I don't want anybody's pity. Who wants a boyfriend they feel sorry for? Chicks wants winners." There goes my philosophy on relationships and I don't care that I admit to the young girl that we had a 'relationship'. She's figured it out anyway.

[Cameo {RIP Charlie}]

They're all second best. But in truth it's Matthew that has second place, the one who nearly reached the final victory. In his mind he's at the lowest of the low, it's written all over his face and flooded within his voice. Not even his goofy trainee can cheer him up, though she manages to get a couple of chuckles. Something's better then nothing, and hopefully soon he'll realize his own personal victory. It's too soon now though. He doesn't even feel as though he deserves Kyanite & Gala being proud of him, though his words and feeling's are unable to change it. Again he carries on about his two big mistakes...at least he adds in a thanks for trying.

"What's these two huge mistakes?" Gala curiously wonders out loud. This sort of thing gets her in to trouble often, but still she asks. "I'm your trainee, you gotta teach me this stuff. Learn from your mistakes, right?" Maybe she's not the best at comforting people, but as Matthew clearly stated she was trying.

Direction's exactly what Gala needs to cheer up her friend, and she takes the first chance at it. Though lately she'd listen to out of respect, something everyone else lacks in Gala's book...aside from Kyanite. A huge grin spreads across her face when Matthew mentions that she's always one for breaking rules. It's always nice to hear her talents being vocalized. For a second she watches as her trainer struggles, and even when he explains this is why he dropped them in the first place. Two seconds later she offers help though.

"Go head. Wouldn't make much of a difference anyway." Matthew's happy to give up the scissors and allow his young trainee to give it a try. At least her dominant hand's still available, because it'd certainly be impossible to cut with her right. Still it takes a few tries but eventually she does actually get it, a proud grin sliding across her face when Matthew's able to free his hand. All fingers are attached though two don't wiggle with the others. "Thank you." That's an even bigger deal then the compliment on being a rule breaker. Her smile grows even bigger as she place the scissors on the side table incase he needs it again later. "You're a good partner in crime." Matthew's far from the type of be sweet, but his words bring a glisten to Gala's baby blue eyes. Partner in crime? Maybe she is proofing herself.

"I try." Gala shrugs it off though the tittle keeps a smile upon her face for a good few minutes. Following orders apparently even gives her a few trust points because unexpectedly Matthew begins talking about Kyanite. This has never happened. A little bit when they admitted to being in a relationship after one of his victories, but that's as far as it's gone. It's not only talk over her, but actual feelings from the tough, strong man that appears to not care about anything.

"I doubt that Ky will come back here. I was pretty rude to her and shoed her out. She was just here out of pity anyway and I don't want anybody's pity. Who wants a boyfriend they feel sorry for? Chicks wants winners."

Hasn't she heard these words before? Gala's unable to resist an eye-roll as she wonders why these two are unable to understand each other. Their feelings are nearly identical, but something hints to Gala they haven't talked about that. "You're such a male sometimes ya know!" Gala jokes with a laugh as she finds herself in the middle of her only two friends. For some reason she was no girl, though she's also far from being a guy as well. "Kyanite's not a normal chick!" She scolds because her trainer should already know this. "And you're probably just pitying yourself." If Matthew wasn't in a hospital bed, Gala would never try to be this daring, but this may be her only chance to say it as it is. "You guys really need to work on your communicating skills." She advices though she's the last person to be giving it.

[Jack Lexington]

Gala's presence is the only one that seems bareable at the moment. I shoed Kyanite away just as well as my father who came to see how I'm doing because of my feeling that I let them down. The same goes for Kyanite but because of her young age I feel she can't expect all that much from me. Plus she's got a goofy way that is a little pleasant right now.
I watch her eagerly cutting away at the hard material of the cast. Even if she cuts me it doesn't matter because that arm has been stabbed and shot with an arrow, what's a little nick? The fact that she helps me against doctors orders is very welcome.
"Sometimes playing against the rules can be good." I share my strange wisdom.

When our conversation comes to Kyanite I become more reserved again.
Gala doesn't hold back though and calls me a typical male.
"What's that supposed to mean?" I glare at her. Is she really trying to lecture me right now?
On top of that she tells me. "Kyanite's not a normal chick!"
"I know." I mutter under my breath.
"And you're probably just pitying yourself."
That's enough. I'm not going to let that little girl lecture me. So I bite back. "Maybe you girls are all just a little sensitive and have too high expectations." I pull my arm away from her because it looks like Gala is clearly on Ky's side.
"Who of you would have won the final fight? Tell me, Gala? You think you or Kyanite could have won it? There's no communication problem. The only problem are you chicks!"
For some reason all my anger that I harbor against myself is suddenly directed at her and her friend.