If Your Hands Were in Mine // [Mace 80th Oneshot]

[Baby Wessex d9b [earthling]]

It doesn't hurt me.
Do you want to feel how it feels?
Do you want to know that it doesn't hurt me?
Do you want to hear about the deal that I'm making?
You, it's you and me.

Every year since he and Saffron had divided the tributes by their own mentorship philosophy, he always came to a point when he wondered: was she right? Would it be easier to be distant instead of intimate, to be a brick wall instead of a shelter? It would be easy to justify. He was not only Mayor, but also a father and partner. He had other responsibilities to those who were sure to continue walking this earth.

For the 80th Games, he started wondering when Enzo Pevek fell brutally. Surely he deserved better than that, he thought, piling spaghetti onto his plate. "He was a good kid," he said to the reporters and then turned in early, letting Quinn sleep in their bed.

Day Seven came, and with it, some very difficult math. All the victors could sense the change of the winds, sense the Gamemakers' patience wearing thin. To his great (albeit temporary) relief, Temple and Lexandriy weren't in the same area. They were both safely with their respective allies.

But then Temple pushed the girl from One and Lex agreed to some insane rules laid out from the girl from Five. He asked Kieran to take the rest of the children, and then retreated to his room, tablet in hand.

He watched for what seemed like hours, his stomach growling, and then clenching. "Please don't," he whispered mercy to still air in his apartment.

One after the other, Temple Jones and Lexandriy Lionel fell to their allies.

He put the tablet down, rubbed at the stubble growing on his upper lip. His fingers trembled. He hadn't cried for a tribute in quite some time, and he refused to now, resentment bubbling up first. He'd warned Temple. And maybe he recognized Lex - so much about her, more than Io could know - but he did not know her. He did not need to mourn them.

That was the damnable thing about feelings though: they came whether you needed them or not.

Later, when he'd washed his splotchy face clean, Mason came to check on him. Mace ruffled his son's shaggy hair - his son, who like Lex, so closely resembled a ghost - and told him the only lie he could think of: "I just need a bit of ice cream. That'll make it all better."

And if I only could,
I'd make a deal with God,
And I'd get him to swap our places,
Be running up that road,
Be running up that hill,
Be running up that building.
If I only could, oh


running up that hill
-placebo-

[dars]

Baby Wessex d9b [earthling]