oh baby, time's running out {sampson and fee}

[[nyte]]

[presto][/presto]

S A M P S O N  C A G E

{ are you going to age with grace?
are you going to age
w i t h o u t  m i s t a k e s ? ;

They taught them the sames things. Years upon years Sampson had sat in this very room, listening to her parents drone on about matters she cared nothing for. Perhaps once she had been ignorant, willing to destroy every ounce of her personality to please her parents. It disgusted her to think that some of her siblings still prescribed to that very idea. She hugged her knees tightly, tongue running against her lips every so often. It was smooth and gentle, her lips slightly salty from the ghosts of tears that'd already stained her cheeks this morning. Her birthday was now only months away and she found herself desperate to control time. By some miracle gain the ability to turn back the clock.

His hair is white now. A kind of tainted white with beautiful flecks of golden embedded in the strands. Pride swells within her chest the longer she looks at her little brother, her own defiant expression mirrored with his. They had turned his hair that color. The biggest fuck you they could manage in a house where there was no such thing as freedom. Fee had been so distant these days, the closer her birthday drew the more alone she felt. Sampson tried not to focus on his changes, the light behind his eyes when she asked him what was wrong and the sneaking feeling her best friend was hiding something. Or her suspicions that he blamed her for being unable to save herself. It seemed the stronger he became, the more Sampson faded. Weakness infecting her like a plague, food and care becoming almost obsolete in the face of her own destruction.

Sampson had become far too skilled at hiding things.

Then again, so had Fee.

She tried to catch her brother's eye, narrowing her brows and wrinkling her nose, putting a hand to the side of her face so as her tyrants parent's couldn't stop her. After all, it wasn't servant-like to made such ugly faces. It wasn't servant-like to do half the things she and Fee did, but her parent's pitiful attempt at brainwashing the both of them had been quite obviously unsuccessful. They were their first projects after all, and one's they never get back within their clutches. Not if Sampson could help it. Sampson wanted to be selfish, to do things for herself some times. She wanted to tell someone who needed her to fuck off and return to her own wants. But she couldn't, could she? Sampson was forced to put all other's needs in front of hers, the seed her parents had successfully planted within her mind before Sampson grew one of her own. It was the very reason she didn't run away from it all and save herself from the approaching hell. She loved her little brothers and sisters far too much.

How hard she had cried, when Attend's birthday had come. A younger Sampson had flung her arms around her only older brother, begging him to stay. Her own d-day had seemed so far away at the time, although now it approached at lightning speed. She hadn't wanted to take the position of the oldest, she was once just as innocent as the others, causing havoc with Fee. She felt normally then, hungry and sad and happy and mad. Her ribs did not peak through her chest as they did now, she had energy and light within her eyes. Was this what Attend had felt, the closer his birthday crept? Had he feared leaving her in charge just as she feared leaving Fee? They were blood and Sampson had let his tongue be taken from him.

The various faces she and Fee had been exchanging for the last five minutes grew tiring, a little bit of joy seeping from her eyes as she watched her little brother. Her head darted left, then right, ensuring no others could see her fingers as she raised them. Perhaps her fingers moved faster than theirs, but she dared not take a chance at revealing their only escape. The old willow.

The willow? Sneak away when we can. Her eyes never left Fee's as she spoke, fingers moving in the familiar patterns they had invented. For a long while, Sampson had worked as his interpreter, the only one able to understand him when his language had first been created. She liked to think she understood a lot about Fee the others didn't. Not everything about the boy, but a lot. It brought a smile to her stiff lips.

Her tyrants parents were far too egotistical to notice her slipping away. They were caught up within their own rant of how awful life in the Districts truly was, how that when they were avoxed they'd be blessed with a life in the luxurious Capitol. They would be reunited with Anyana and Attend. Bullshit! She thought with a spite similar to that she felt for herself. What weren't her parents willing to do to force their children into avoxing. Soon the grass crunched beneath her grungy shoes. (Her parents had often offered to buy he a clean pair, but the girl felt they fit her perfectly. Worn and close to being tossed into the trash. Close to being completely useless.)

And that was just what she did, pulling the shoes of her feet and running full sprint towards the welcoming shade of the tree. The green blades were cold beneath her toes, sending pain through her feet. It felt good only because it felt. Something that she expirienced far too little now a days. A sad truth, but a truth indeed. Her heart pounded within her chest a reminder that she was alive, her breath came in heavy pants a reminder that she was still human and she could taste the dew-laiden air a reminder of what was to come.

Sampson collapsed against the tree trunk, once again only seconds away from freedom and unable to leave. Despite her struggles, and despite the weight of the world pressing upon her ever-weakening shoulders, she held the brightest, most genuine smile upon her lips. Her legs were crossed in front her, heavy black mane positioned behind her shoulders as she waited. Fee always made her feel light as air, even if the opposite was true. And for that, she loved him.

[presto][/presto]

[gamemaker kelsier]

[presto][/presto]

I choose this particular desk in the small room we use for study for two good reasons. The first reason being that I have the perfect vantage point here. Sampson can sign at me and because of my mother's attention often being on the little ones, she never sees it. The second reason is that this desk is right beside the window and as a result is excellent for quick getaways and for naps. The sunlight falls across my chair and warms it, making it comfortable and good for a quick snooze.

In fact, that's what I've just woken up from as I raise my head from the surface of my desk as if I am emerging from the depths of a very deep pool. I yawn quietly and stretch my arms up, fingers curling in as if I am being tugged by the wrists. Letting my arms flop down, I use one to support my chin and the other to reclaim the pencil that slipped out of my fingers as I slept. Mother walks by and taps me lightly on the top of my head with the end of her paper. She's telling me off without words for my transgression. I offer her a shrug and crooked smile in return, and sign I was up late last night with Elliot. We were polishing the silverware. She nods approvingly and moves off despite my obvious lie.

I don't do extra work like that, not even if my mother paid me. I've learned in my short life however, that the easiest way to get the she-dragon off of my back is to pretend I've done her a favour already. It sends her nose sniffing in a different direction. I smirk at her retreating back, casually tossing a crumpled piece of paper at the back of Tryst's head before she turns around and see me doing it. It bounces off of his brown locks with a rather satisfying crinkly sound.

I have the decency to look busy and disinterested when he turns around looking for all the world like the petulant twelve year old he isn't. As I do so, Sampson catches my eyes. She's making stupid faces. Almost immediately, my lips form themselves into a lovely yet disorganized smile and I go cross-eyed in response to the face she's making, puffing out my cheeks to look like a chimp.

I adore her and I'm certain without her here I wouldn't be able to survive the insanity that is this house. No one else really seems to understand that just because I'm mute it doesn't make me dumb. Sure, communication was pretty much impossible for the first five or six years of my life but that's only because they allowed it to be that way. Sampson was the first one to try and communicate with me and a as a result, my childhood memories are a blur of following my older sister around, anchored to her by her hand and she to mine.

Things have been different lately and it's because I'm not being entirely truthful with her. I grimace slightly, the previous night's workout having done a number on my arms. They're hidden beneath the bulk of a sweater two sizes too large for me. It's getting harder and harder to hid the progress I've made with my body and training. I figured it couldn't be hard but it turns out that people expect to see you wearing a tank top at least once or twice when they used to be your main fashion pick. I haven't worn short sleeves in a very long time.

I don't know why I'm holding this secret so carefully. I usually tell Sampson everything but something about this seems different. It's a blatant disregard for the rules of our parent's after all and despite the fact that we both share a rebellious streak (as proved by my current hairstyle) we have never truly gone against our parent's teachings. What I'm doing isn't just against house rules, it's against everything my parents have been raising us to be. I have taken the first step in the fight for my tongue and I didn't tell Sampson.

She signs at me and I translate the words as easily as if she had said them out loud. I don't have to say anything back in response. A nod will suffice in this situation. I give her one, quick and easy to misinterpret as anything else by the slave drivers who call themselves parents standing at the back of the classroom over Elliot and Yanika. I watch Sampson as she slips out the door and force the old window open with a loud creak beside me. I glance back to make sure our parents have not noticed, but they're invested with my younger siblings.

Grinning, I jump out the window, landing with a loud thump on the grass beside the house, stumbling forward but regaining my footing quickly enough to break into a run. It's been a while since we've gone to the willow together. I've been busy and so has she. Her birthday's coming and I'm trying not to think about the fact that if we don't do something soon then she's going to be without a tongue. The idea of that is somehow too unbearable. I can't imagine my sister without her voice.

I reach the fence line quick enough and the willow tree grows out of the distance, a speck getting bigger and bigger the closer I get to it. She's there already but she had five minutes head start. My older sister is quick but I've always been slightly faster. The training is helping. I slow down, signs forming on my fingers as soon as I'm close enough to see. Fuck, I was of the thought that mother would never be silent, what was she droning on about today anyway? I fell asleep again. As if to accent this I fall into the tall grass in a heap, resting my head in her lap and pouting up at her.

I raise my hands up to be in front of her face so she doesn't have to look down to know what I'm saying. Hi, I tell her.

[presto][/presto]

[[nyte]]

[presto][/presto]

S A M P S O N  C A G E

{ taking over this town, they should worry
but these problems aside i think i 
t a u g h t  y o u  w e l l  ;

She runs her hands through his hair, chuckling as he greets her. It seemed only Fee could coax such emotion from her these days. Her index finger pressed against his nose teasingly, sticking her tongue out at the boy as she tried to recall her parent's speech that had been thoroughly ignored. "You shouldn't sleep so early." her words were that of false reprimand, "It'll be harder to sleep at night." There was no conviction in her tone, she'd be a hypocrite had there been. Sampson could barely coax herself into an uneasy sleep most nights, the dark circles under her eyes growing harder to cover by the day. "As for the tyrants-" her tongue caressed her upper lip, thinking hard about the voices that had been little more than a monotonous drawl in her ears. "Probably the same old shit. They keep insisting we'll all be reunited. It's bullshit Fee! We'll be slaves and no one will give a damn if we want to see Anyana or Attend-" a silent sob choked her words. It was harder to keep her facade around Fee. He knew her too well, how she spoke and how her face changed when she was sad or scared or happy.

A deep breath filled her lungs, trying to push away the panic that so easily built within her. She cradled Fee's head within her hands, taking strength from the fact that he was present. That they had not been separated yet and there was no point wasting these moments on a fate that could not be changed. She shook her head, attempting to shake her fears and to disguise the tear that'd managed to crawl onto her cheek without her brother noticing. Wiping away the wet stain, she resumed pulling her fingers through Fee's hair, eyes scanning the sky with unknown intent. What was it like, she wondered, to be a bird. To fly through the skies without so much as a care in the world. To be literally weightless as the wind carried you along its current and the games nor their parents hung over their heads. Surely that was the definition of freedom, to worry about no one but herself. As much as she wanted it, she detested never having known Fee or the others. They made her life worth living, and without them she'd have been gone a long time ago.

Words sat unsaid upon her tongue, brows furrowed as though she were once again making faces at her little brother. If only that was true.

I'm so scared Fee. I can't sleep, I can't eat, I can barely feel anything anymore. It's going to kill me, becoming an avox, I can't live being a servant. I can't live without you and the others. I've come to accept the fact I'm doomed but it only makes things worse. You've become so distant, and it scares me. Have I done something to lose your trust? Is it my fault? I can't stand to lose you before my tongue. Please just... help me.

Her cries remained locked between pursed lips. A good servant cared for others and not themselves, a good servant did not speak of their own problems. Of course, Sampson thought with spite A good servant cannot speak at all. Why not just cut out our tongues and be done with it?! Why torture us so? It angered her that her parents had adopted Fee under the impression he would transition easily into avoxing. That they were so ignorant as to believe that the tongue was only useful for things as superficial as taste and talk. Fee was his own man, one with his own intention and a will that had rivaled her own when she was his age. It seemed so much longer than two years ago. They had no right to assume he would want his tongue gone, they had no right to touch any of them!

"I'm so proud of you." she murmured, voice little more than a gentle whisper, "You've become a wonderful man, independent and funny and everything I ever could have wanted. I'm so glad to call you my little brother." her words were hauntingly definite. It sounded as though she were saying goodbye to him, and she supposed in a way she was. Not much longer and her voice would be gone and Sampson found herself desperate to force everything she'd ever wanted to say out of her mouth before that time came. More than anything, she wanted Fee to know that he couldn't end up like Anyana or Attend or her. He had to grow up and fall in love, he had to find someone who would treat him well and learn his language. Fee needed to have his first kiss and his first love and to keep tasting the dew in the air on a foggy morning sat under their old willow. Even if it was on the other side of this fence.

Her tone turned serious, dark and ashy like the inferno raging within her. It died a little more every day, as her chances to fight grew smaller and smaller and smaller... "Listen Fee, when I'm gone you have to get out of here." When I'm gone she spoke as though terminally ill, with only months left to live. It was scarily close to the truth. "You'll have to find a way to save the others out of this place. I know you can do it but... I cant stand to think of you in here when I'm away. I don't want you-" to feel as hopeless as I do now. "to feel like you have to stay, ok?"

How she hated bringing up a subject as macabre as this, but Sampson had been waiting a long while to speak with Fee about it. Always putting it off, always deciding that there was another day to speak of it and not wanting to cause him any more distress. Convincing herself that it would only anger him because he already blamed her for being weak and unable to save herself. But such was the truth, she couldn't save herself and this was a conversation that needed to happen.

For a woman desperate to speak her last words, Sampson sure left a lot unsaid.

[presto][/presto]

[gamemaker kelsier]

[presto][/presto]

You can't cut someone else when they're in the middle of speaking when you don't have a voice and I guess that's one reason everyone insists that every single mute person they come across is lovely and polite? You wouldn't be able to count the number of old women who have pinched my cheeks over the years because I was so 'quiet' and 'reserved'. Hell, if I could speak I'm certain you'd have to plug your ears after a time for all that I have to say all of the time. I interrupt people a lot but with my hands and they can't hear it so they don't notice it. They can't tell when I'm yelling or whispering because it doesn't matter.

There is no volume control. I don't show emotions very well either unless I'm with Sampson. I just don't feel comfortable enough around anyone else to act like I'm not the perfect little robot boy, free of all emotion and feeling. So when I feel like shouting, I can't. When I want to put so much happiness into my voice, I can't. I have to show it in other ways.

She tells me not to sleep so much and I put my hands together as if in prayer and shut my eyes, a small smile making my lips curl in amusement. I am the king of sleep and she knows it, she's just jealous that I don't need a bed, as long as I'm not moving I can nap. It's been this way since I was little, I've always needed a lot of sleep but since I started training so much in the night my naps during the day have become more and more frequent. It's getting to the point where I can't stop myself from sleeping if I'm comfortable.

I'm not comfortable now because of the way her words get caught in her throat. I can feel her body stiffen against mine as she speaks, as if she's struggling to hold something in. That's for for the Avox. We said we'd never hold our emotions back from each other because that was what slaves did. We promised each other that we would always be truthful with one another because we live lives that are already so tethered by the rules our parents insist we live by.

I push myself up and twist myself around to face her, my hair in a disarray and lips set in a grim line. She's talking about how Im going to be in charge when she is gone and other BULLSHIT, I sign at her, fingers fast and angry. I can't cut her off though because when Sampson wants to say something she talks around the problem until I have to force it out of her because Mother and Father's stupid teachings telling her that she has to put herself second. I'm tired of that. I want her to put herself first.

She won't stop talking though, won't stop saying all the shit that Attend probably said to her before they took his tongue away and I can't believe she's doing this to me, that she's just giving up so easily. We've been plotting our getaway for years and now she's acting like I'll have to go one without her like she's some poor, legless tribute who can't flee her own fight.

So I lunge forward and press my hand against her mouth to interrupt her because I've got to stop this self-deprecating bullshit somehow. For a moment we sit there in silence and the grossness of what I have just done fills me up. Quickly, I move my hand away. I am not in the business of taking my sister's voice from her. Never.

You are the strongest person I know, Sampson, I sign at her, starting slowly but speeding up as I am filled with urgency. I do not know what lunatic has taken over your brain but if you think that I am actually going to allow the removal of your tongue to go ahead then it must be you. I narrow my eyes at her and lean forward as I try to get across what I'm telling her, to make her understand how completely serious I am. Cut the bullshit. I am your little brother still, stop trying to say goodbye to me, as if I'd actually let you leave. I pause for a moment to roll my eyes at the heavens and lift my fingers again.

She's losing faith in me.

It's because I've been lying to her and she knows that I'm not telling her the truth. Technically, no lie has passed my fingers or lips but not telling her everything all the time feel likes lying anyway.

Listen, I begin, my fingers forming words and crumbling, Alright, I I try to form words again but my hands shake because panic has gripped me so tightly. I didn't factor in the fact that Sampson would give up on me. We have been planning escape since we were little, you cannot give up on me now and tell me that our struggle is over. You cannot. I told you already, I will not allow this to happen.

I stop signing as I realize that I've been a fool to hide my nightly excursions from Sampson as if she would ever turn me in to our parents, as if she would ever betray me. With an impatient huff of breath that serves as a sigh to a mute like me, I bring my hands down to the hemline of my bulky sweatshirt and pull it over my head to reveal the same type of tank top that I always used to wear. However, my body really has changed since I began my training all those months ago. I'm no longer the weakling I was good at pretending to be. I have the muscle definition of a warrior, the physique of a fighter.

I stare at her, waiting for her reaction and raise my hands slowly as if to explain my transgression. If my parents could see this body, they would Avox me here and now and they would do it themselves.

I am going to save us.

[presto][/presto]

[[nyte]]

[presto][/presto]

S A M P S O N  C A G E

{ taking over this town, they should worry
but these problems aside i think i 
t a u g h t  y o u  w e l l  ;

My lips quivered underneath Fee's palm, and when his hand fell mine replaced it. Sweaty fingers encompassed the whole of my mouth, stifling a sob that had been forcing its way up my throat. He called me all the things I was not. He calls me strong when I'm anything but. I had forced myself to become weak and silent, saying nothing about my sufferings just like Mother and Father wanted. That was anything but strong, it was pathetic and weak. I couldn't do anything but wallow in self-pity. That wasn't strong. I want to grab his hand and force him to stop telling lies. Perhaps I would have, had his tone not changed. Fee couldn't speak, but I still heard his every word, I could tell when he was nervous or angry or scared in the way his hands moved. His voice was the most beautiful thing I'd ever heard.

He starts the same sentence three times over and I can feel my anxiety increasing every passing second. My eyes have been transfixed on his fingers for minutes now, guilt consuming me with every sign. I was wrong to give up, I wasn't who I was all those years ago when we'd made that promise. That Sampson died a little every day, and with her every motivation I once had. Somewhere in the back of my mind, she stirred at her little brother's words a fire long since extinguished smoldering once more. Underneath the cover of my hand, I smiled. I felt something more than despair, something that was not like it at all. Hope was a wonderful feeling. Fee pulls his sweatshirt over his head and I do not see my little brother. He's grown up without my knowing, muscles making their way down his arms and along his collar. It hurts more than it should have. I had lost his trust so greatly he had been forced to carry this burden alone, sneaking off by himself to the centers I'd never given a second thought.

I rub my eyes, pushing back angry tears. It was hypocritical to be upset, it wasn't like I'd told him everything either. I just couldn't comprehend how I'd fucked up this badly, how he felt he couldn't tell me something as important as this. Finding words was a struggle, and I sit in silence for a long while, palms pressed into my eyes until colorful stars begin to dance in the pitch black. "What the fuck, Fee?!" if he was going to tell the truth, then so was I. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, whatever I did." I try to force an explanation for everything into a few words, an apology for being as shit of a sister as I have been. "What did I do? Can you please just tell me what I've done?" I was tired of pushing everything beneath the surface, tired of sewing my lips shut when there was so much more I wanted to say. Fee was my world and he'd hid this from me for months, he'd become strong while I withered away. Maybe I didn't have a right to feel angry or betrayed, but I did. What gave him the right to think he needed to take everything onto his shoulders? We were in this together, at least we should have been.

"I didn't mean to fuck up this badly. I never wanted to lose your trust. This is bullshit Fee. This! Because you fucking know you can tell me anything!" My hands have been picking at the grass, tearing up tufts with every angry word I spoke. Now they rest upon his shoulders, and I feel freer than ever. I wasn't going to be silent, I wasn't going to act like this didn't hurt. He wasn't hiding from me now and he was as beautiful as ever. I was proud of my brother, angry as I was. So I pull him into me, wrap my arms around him and hold him close. To thank him for forcing my eyes open because my life wasn't over, not yet. Hopeless as I felt all I needed to do was look at him and fire coursed through every part of me. I felt something, I felt everything in this moment. Happy and sad and angry and scared, I was prideful and confident and confused. Every emotion I'd forced away from me for fear of becoming too attached to them. Getting used to freedom was one of my greatest fears because as an Avox I would never get that. I wasn't allowed to feel love, any human emotion I displayed would have been punished and so I'd done just that. Avoxed myself before my parents could. The only difference was that I could reverse it all.

My arms drop, and I'm left looking at my baby brother turned a man. Tears fall freely down my cheeks and I do nothing to stop them. It was as though every drop felled was a weight off my shoulders, and I was so overwhelmed by everything I couldn't stop if I'd wanted. This was how a human should live, because of their emotions not in fear of them. I wasn't an Avox, not yet, and I'd been stupid for thinking myself such.

As much as I missed Attend, I was not him. He was gone and I'll never see him again. Most little sisters should look up to their brothers, idolize them as their protector and friend. My parents I hardly thought of them as such anymore had taken that away. They'd stolen Attend's tongue and the big brother who should have taught me how to care for Fee and the others. I hated them, hated every aspect I shared with them. They weren't Fee's real parents and I wished more than anything they weren't mine. For a long time I'd hated myself instead of them, clung to the thought that their hearts were golden but their ideas misplaced. I wanted to love my mother and father, wanted to return home from school and embrace them. As my birthday approached, it became obviously clear that they'd never step up. They wouldn't have a sudden change of heart and be the loving parents I wanted. The burden then fell to me, and I would take it head on. As Attend had raised me, I would raise the others.  Only over my dead body would my parents touch any of them.

[presto][/presto]