Morning to Come [Teddy!Oneshot]
Nov 26, 2017 11:48:40 GMT -5
Post by Tom on Nov 26, 2017 11:48:40 GMT -5
☾
Bruised knuckles and broken glass are what's left of him.
A silence that echoes along white halls and broken dreams enters his room as he shoves himself forward. Star's words of facing his own fears coming to his mind, but he can't. Not right then when a boy from Six was in the spot that he had been. Possibility of death at his throat and failure in Teddy's own mind. Emberly's last look at the sunset flickering across his mind, the words falling from his throat, a promise that he couldn't keep. A promise of safety for her sisters, but nothing could stop the pain that came the next games with Clementa Lowe. A torn body that's gone already. A moment that he would remember just as clear as the day Emberly Lowe asked him what happened to Ree Fer.
Death was never pretty.
Even after escaping it.
Hands gently touching the white walls as he can feel himself shuffling towards anywhere to try and stop. Just stop thinking about everything that he could have done, but how much that he couldn't have done for them. Serena. Clementa. Too many names grace his skin in a taunting way. Scars that would never disappear no matter how hard he would try, so instead he wears them like the crown that they put upon his head. Memories and a weight that he carries for them. Remembering them all, he carries them, but tears threaten to fall from his eyes. A scream of frustration that wants to come from his lips doesn't because there's no point in breaking.
Ansel Khiev needed him.
That's what mattered.
Even if his heart wished that Clementa could have made it out more than Ansel. A child who was losing himself to the killer that hides inside. Killer. A word that he's heard too many times since the crown that had been placed upon his head. A kingdom of broken bodies and sorrow filled memories. A king of nothing, but the broken pieces of himself. Bloodied knuckles healing from the anger of the moment Ezen Moreno cut Clementa down. Bags under his eyes from a lack of sleep. The smell of wine on his breath as it's something to calm him down. Something that wouldn't disappear like everything else does.
No family. No friends. Alone with the thoughts in his head. Things would get better. He believed that they would, but hope seemed fleeting as he watches the fifth day that Ansel stands alive. Dislike for the District Six male is all he could think of, but he's still a piece of Six. A piece of Six that Teddy needs to bring home. Six had finally gotten their victor, but he wasn't the one they wanted. At least, that's what he thought. Basil would have been better than him, but fate had it out for him.
Lux's last breath had been a relief, but all it came to was a lifetime of watching tribute after tribute die. The question was could he handle that. Could he handle watching District Six citizens die every year? He would never know. Ansel needed him though and that's what he was going to focus on, even though his emotions keep coming up and telling him to fall like the rest. A new battle with a new possibility, but there's a pit in his stomach that eats away at him.
Another Lowe has gone and passed, but he still stands there with scars of his past.
The fifth day of the 77th was like the 76th. All of them in one place. All of them ready to fight for their lives. Death looming over them as blood would be spilled, this time death was a mutt. A mutt that looked terrifying and proved to be so with it's kills. Eyes watching the screen without a bottle of wine this time. Star had cut him off early that day with a whisper of idiot upon her tongue. A dark room where his heart beats swiftly with every swing of a weapon. A spear in Ansel's hands like his own had. The golden lance sits in Amethyst's place like a trophy of the times that she succeeded. A sigh falls from his lips as he can see bodies beginning to fall.
The District Four male. Ezen Moreno to Ansel, making his kill count five tributes. The District Eight male. Then Sirrah falls from the mutt that had taken two lives already. There's a moment where he can feel his hands shake as the memory of Raquel falling in the feast comes to his mind. Raquel Izar, another doomed soul that he couldn't save from death. Sirrah is dead. He can see it in Ansel's face as a moment stops. The words from his lips makes Teddy's body freeze and he can't breath.
"Teddy, please..."
A plea to save the dead like he could have done it. Save the dying from death had been his dream as a kid. A doctor had been what he wanted to be as a kid. Playing doctor with a fake toy kit that his real mother had spent too much money on to get. The wounds that he wanted to stop. Pain was the thing that Teddy hated to see upon the face of anyone. That's why he became a nurse. To stop the pain that others felt. The wounds that he could heal, but he learned the truth. Death was unstoppable, inevitable, and when it was time, there's nothing anyone could have done.
Miracles didn't exist. No matter how much he wished miracles could exist, they didn't. If he could have saved anyone, he would have. He would have saved Rhetoric if he could have. Rory. Chester. Kaiser. Basil. Raquel. Emberly. Ree. Adelaide. Lux. Miracles didn't exist. As much as Ansel wanted Sirrah not to die, in the end, it's you or them. No matter how horrible it is. Only one makes it out with scars and wounds that tear any normal person apart. You'll never be the same. Lessons that have to be learned. Words fall from his lips.
"I can't help you with this."
A exhale of breath as a hand brushes through his curly locks. Tiredness upon his skin and dark circles that threaten to take him into his subconscious even though he'd just wake up a few hours later after the nightmares pass. The second of a memory of the warm body of Chester upon his skin that makes him jump for a second. There's nothing he can do, but watch and send supplies if he could. Ansel was on his own and the next few days would be the hardest if Ansel survived through them.
"I'm sorry, Ansel. This is your fight, not mine."
Bruised knuckles and dark circles, leave the room as he heads out of the training center. Air. He needed air. Things would only get worse before it gets better. Miracles don't exist, but hope does. That's all he can do now. Hope that Ansel Khiev makes it out. Feet take him anywhere that they can go. Not too far from the Training Session, but enough that he can feel like he's escaping for a moment.
Waiting for kairos to come as the days grow longer.
Teddy's tired of it all.
The emotions that tear at his skin. The names that plaster across his skin like scars. The moments that feel all too really when the warmth of Chester is on his skin, or the joking words of Rory hit his ears, or the elegance that was Rhetoric. He's tired of the haunting feelings that hide deep in himself. Everything seemed broken.
All he could do was wait for morning to come.
Another sad sunrise to add to his collection.
A silence that echoes along white halls and broken dreams enters his room as he shoves himself forward. Star's words of facing his own fears coming to his mind, but he can't. Not right then when a boy from Six was in the spot that he had been. Possibility of death at his throat and failure in Teddy's own mind. Emberly's last look at the sunset flickering across his mind, the words falling from his throat, a promise that he couldn't keep. A promise of safety for her sisters, but nothing could stop the pain that came the next games with Clementa Lowe. A torn body that's gone already. A moment that he would remember just as clear as the day Emberly Lowe asked him what happened to Ree Fer.
Death was never pretty.
Even after escaping it.
Hands gently touching the white walls as he can feel himself shuffling towards anywhere to try and stop. Just stop thinking about everything that he could have done, but how much that he couldn't have done for them. Serena. Clementa. Too many names grace his skin in a taunting way. Scars that would never disappear no matter how hard he would try, so instead he wears them like the crown that they put upon his head. Memories and a weight that he carries for them. Remembering them all, he carries them, but tears threaten to fall from his eyes. A scream of frustration that wants to come from his lips doesn't because there's no point in breaking.
Ansel Khiev needed him.
That's what mattered.
Even if his heart wished that Clementa could have made it out more than Ansel. A child who was losing himself to the killer that hides inside. Killer. A word that he's heard too many times since the crown that had been placed upon his head. A kingdom of broken bodies and sorrow filled memories. A king of nothing, but the broken pieces of himself. Bloodied knuckles healing from the anger of the moment Ezen Moreno cut Clementa down. Bags under his eyes from a lack of sleep. The smell of wine on his breath as it's something to calm him down. Something that wouldn't disappear like everything else does.
No family. No friends. Alone with the thoughts in his head. Things would get better. He believed that they would, but hope seemed fleeting as he watches the fifth day that Ansel stands alive. Dislike for the District Six male is all he could think of, but he's still a piece of Six. A piece of Six that Teddy needs to bring home. Six had finally gotten their victor, but he wasn't the one they wanted. At least, that's what he thought. Basil would have been better than him, but fate had it out for him.
Lux's last breath had been a relief, but all it came to was a lifetime of watching tribute after tribute die. The question was could he handle that. Could he handle watching District Six citizens die every year? He would never know. Ansel needed him though and that's what he was going to focus on, even though his emotions keep coming up and telling him to fall like the rest. A new battle with a new possibility, but there's a pit in his stomach that eats away at him.
Another Lowe has gone and passed, but he still stands there with scars of his past.
The fifth day of the 77th was like the 76th. All of them in one place. All of them ready to fight for their lives. Death looming over them as blood would be spilled, this time death was a mutt. A mutt that looked terrifying and proved to be so with it's kills. Eyes watching the screen without a bottle of wine this time. Star had cut him off early that day with a whisper of idiot upon her tongue. A dark room where his heart beats swiftly with every swing of a weapon. A spear in Ansel's hands like his own had. The golden lance sits in Amethyst's place like a trophy of the times that she succeeded. A sigh falls from his lips as he can see bodies beginning to fall.
The District Four male. Ezen Moreno to Ansel, making his kill count five tributes. The District Eight male. Then Sirrah falls from the mutt that had taken two lives already. There's a moment where he can feel his hands shake as the memory of Raquel falling in the feast comes to his mind. Raquel Izar, another doomed soul that he couldn't save from death. Sirrah is dead. He can see it in Ansel's face as a moment stops. The words from his lips makes Teddy's body freeze and he can't breath.
"Teddy, please..."
A plea to save the dead like he could have done it. Save the dying from death had been his dream as a kid. A doctor had been what he wanted to be as a kid. Playing doctor with a fake toy kit that his real mother had spent too much money on to get. The wounds that he wanted to stop. Pain was the thing that Teddy hated to see upon the face of anyone. That's why he became a nurse. To stop the pain that others felt. The wounds that he could heal, but he learned the truth. Death was unstoppable, inevitable, and when it was time, there's nothing anyone could have done.
Miracles didn't exist. No matter how much he wished miracles could exist, they didn't. If he could have saved anyone, he would have. He would have saved Rhetoric if he could have. Rory. Chester. Kaiser. Basil. Raquel. Emberly. Ree. Adelaide. Lux. Miracles didn't exist. As much as Ansel wanted Sirrah not to die, in the end, it's you or them. No matter how horrible it is. Only one makes it out with scars and wounds that tear any normal person apart. You'll never be the same. Lessons that have to be learned. Words fall from his lips.
"I can't help you with this."
A exhale of breath as a hand brushes through his curly locks. Tiredness upon his skin and dark circles that threaten to take him into his subconscious even though he'd just wake up a few hours later after the nightmares pass. The second of a memory of the warm body of Chester upon his skin that makes him jump for a second. There's nothing he can do, but watch and send supplies if he could. Ansel was on his own and the next few days would be the hardest if Ansel survived through them.
"I'm sorry, Ansel. This is your fight, not mine."
Bruised knuckles and dark circles, leave the room as he heads out of the training center. Air. He needed air. Things would only get worse before it gets better. Miracles don't exist, but hope does. That's all he can do now. Hope that Ansel Khiev makes it out. Feet take him anywhere that they can go. Not too far from the Training Session, but enough that he can feel like he's escaping for a moment.
Waiting for kairos to come as the days grow longer.
Teddy's tired of it all.
The emotions that tear at his skin. The names that plaster across his skin like scars. The moments that feel all too really when the warmth of Chester is on his skin, or the joking words of Rory hit his ears, or the elegance that was Rhetoric. He's tired of the haunting feelings that hide deep in himself. Everything seemed broken.
All he could do was wait for morning to come.
Another sad sunrise to add to his collection.
