it will come right back to you

[WT]

"Wander, honey, it's been too long."

"Hey, Ms. Sibande." Wander leans into the hug, exchanging an awkward glance with Madalitso over her shoulder. "Missed you too, it's just been, uh. Been busy, I guess."

She probably sees through that; she must know how Madalitso feels better than Wander does, these days. Things between them haven't been bad in any way that ve's figured out how to do anything about—no screaming fights or petty maneuvers, almost nothing tangible at all. Every time ve asks whether they're okay, Madalitso says yes, only to blatantly avoid ver at every possible turn. Wander alternates between pretending that doesn't sting, which Flo always calls out sooner or later, and complaining at length, until Iovita gets an uncomfortable crinkled look around their eyes.

Plenty of Wander's friendships have drifted apart. Ve knows it happens. But ve also knows that Madalitso still hangs out with Flo and Vita when ve's not around, and after the Games' crash course in weird friendship dynamics, ve's less annoyed at the two of them for allowing it than at Madalitso for not owning up to it. If he resents Wander for being the one to get to come home when they all know his name is in that ball as many times as it can be—never mind the Careers, or that if Wander had used vis brain for two seconds then it just would have been someone else—then Wander wishes he would say so. They could have a proper fight and get on with things, instead of whatever this is.

"Still busy, yeah?" Madalitso says, shifting his weight uncomfortably. "We got school stuff, Mom."

With a few more pleasantries she waves them both back to Madalitso's room. It's both more and less uncomfortable than Wander feared when they got paired up the day before; Madalitso focuses aggressively on putting their research notes together, and after a few attempts to ask how he is or lighten the mood, Wander gives in. Staying busy keeps the awkwardness from feeling too suffocating, but it floods back when they sit back three hours later, already done with a presentation that in better times they would have spent most of the day procrastinating on.

As ve packs up vis things, keenly aware that ve has no idea when ve'll next have a reason to see the inside of this house, Wander decides to try one more time. "It's been a year and a half."

Madalitso sighs slowly, but he doesn't change the subject again. "I know. Look, I'm not mad at you, okay?" Wander quirks vis mouth to one side, and he shakes his head. "I'm not. I'm just..."

Wander waits a moment to see whether that's going anywhere, then sighs back when it doesn't. "I get it. Kinda. But I miss you." Madalitso doesn't seem to know what to say to that, either, so Wander gives his shoulder a light punch, gratified when he doesn't flinch. "It'd make Vita's and Flo's life easier if we got along again." That gets a brief, guilty smile. "Just think about it, 'kay?"

For kicks ve leaves through the window, even though they both know ve's going to pop vis head back in to say goodbye to Ms. Sibande before ve goes. It's how they always leave each other's houses, and for a second it could almost feel like a moment from two years ago, until Madalitso closes the window with a dull thud.

He waves, though, when Wander looks back.

---

At home ve doesn't bother to call out as ve kicks vis shoes off in the entryway. Teresa and Nate headed to work with their parents this morning—something about a tide-tracking project, Wander's sure ve'll hear about it tonight—and they had planned to pick Cadenza up from her friend's house on their way home for dinner. Of course, "at a friend's" can mean almost anything with Cadenza these days, so Wander shouldn't be as surprised as ve is to elbow open the door to vis room and find her leaning her back against the end of the bed.

This was normal, once, except she would have been sprawled on her stomach with her feet kicked up in the air, or buzzing around working on some contraption she wanted Wander to look at, not hunched over by the window in the dim light coming in from overcast afternoon. Wander steps into the room almost cautiously. "Caddy? Wh—"

Cadenza jerks and looks up, then twists her torso, hiding whatever she's holding in her lap effectively but less subtly than she probably thinks. "You're home?"

"Yeah, had a—nothing, Litso and I just got the presentation done quick." Wander comes close enough to dump vis school bag in its usual corner. "You good?"

"Yeah," Cadenza says, unconvincingly. "Just, uh. Yeah. Good."

Wander raises vis eyebrows. "That's... cool."

"Mhmm."

"Was there something you wanted me to—wait, what—" Wander leans over, close enough now to see the strap of vis camera bag poking out from where Cadenza must have clumsily shoved it when ve came in. She scrambles to her feet but can't kick it the rest of the way underneath quickly enough, and in the fuss doesn't think to hide the white square she's holding. "Hey," Wander snaps, "don't mess with my shit!"

"Or what," Cadenza says, eyes blazing like ve never knew she had in her until she slammed through the doorway in the Justice Building, voice measured like she's spent a long time planning exactly how and when to say this, "you'll stab me?"

"Well, apparently it's easy!"

That hangs between them for one long moment, shimmering and toothed. Shock has wiped the fury off Cadenza's face, and Wander can only imagine ve mirrors her; there's a sting in vis ribcage where hope snapped back like a broken rubber band, but if Wander learned one thing in the Games, it's that regret doesn't mean anything if you can't take something back.

The sound of the photo tearing rips through the room as well, just as loud as either of their outbursts—and then Cadenza is gone, scrambling past before Wander can wrench vis eyes from the two uneven bits of white fluttering onto the floor.

Vis parents would say to cool down, let Cadenza do the same, and talk to her later. They keep saying to give her space, give her time; she's been talking to them, she's been talking to Nixie, she'll come around—and it hasn't been going badly, ve supposes, because lately they barely fight any more than they did before.

But they talk less, too, and waiting for someone else to say something has never really been how the four of them have done things, has it.

"Fuck," Wander says, and tears out of the room after her.

---

Wander gets three streets away, assuming Cadenza would go to Nate and Teresa, before ve realizes vis mistake and turns on vis heel. Sure enough, when ve scrabbles up to rest half on and half dangling from the roof, ve finds her staring back at ver from the flat spot by the chimney, curls mussed and feet bare.

"I'm sorry," ve says without preamble. "I was taking something else out on you." A few things, in fact; an uncomfortable part of Wander relished the excuse to get angry after months of people all but stepping back and putting their hands in the air every time ve so much as makes an irritated face. "That wasn't okay and I shouldn't have said it. Not even if I was mad at you."

Cadenza looks away and knocks one bare heel against the shingles. "I know you wouldn't hurt me."

It's a faint relief to hear her say so, but that's not the point. "I still shouldn't have said it."

A few more seconds pass this time before she says, still kicking lightly, "Me either." She eyes Wander sidelong. "Sorry about your photo."

It's not "apology accepted," but Wander knows a peace offering when ve hears one. Ve hauls verself the rest of the way onto the roof and settles down next to her, limbs splayed for balance. "You gotta talk to me, Caddy," ve says. "I can't make anything better if I don't know what's up."

"You haven't been talking to me," she says, looking away again but with another flash of the tension from earlier in her voice.

"Yeah, I think I just figured out that's a mistake."

Unexpectedly, Cadenza scoots to tuck herself against Wander's side, the way she hasn't done outside of Reaping morning since—now that ve thinks about it, ve can't remember the last time. Ve wraps vis arm around her shoulders, ignoring the twinge that tells ver ve's been neglecting stretches lately. "That's stupid."

"Sure is," you say agreeably. "I'm trying, though. Wanna meet me halfway?"

This close ve can feel her breathing, not quite frantic but not quite easy, either. When she finally speaks, it's with a deep, determined inhale. "You died. You're still here but you died!"

"Noticed," Wander says, a touch more dryly than ve means to.

She elbows ver but doesn’t move away. "You died but you're here but you killed people but they're alive but you killed them."

This time ve has the sense to hold back yeah, how do you think I feel about it? The Capitol didn't send any of them home with a manual for this, though, and ve spends a long moment aimlessly fluffing her curls while ve wracks vis brains. "You know I'd do anything for the three of you, right?"

"Maybe I didn't want you to!" Cadenza wails, well and truly upset now. She still must realize how that sounds when Wander can't help but flinch, because she turns to hide her face in vis shoulder and adds, "I didn't want you to die but I didn't want—why'd you go?"

"'Cause you're right, you kids got all the brains in this family." Wander wriggles a little and wraps vis other arm around her for a proper hug.

"I'm so mad at you," she sobs, muffled faintly by vis sleeve, "but I couldn't be 'cause you were dead and then I couldn't be 'cause I gotta be grateful but I'm still so mad all the time and I can't even do anything about it. And sometimes you're off at sea and not at breakfast and I feel like you're gone again and I hate it. I hate this!"

"Me too," Wander says, and ve gives her a minute to get her sobbing out. When she's back down to sniffling and hitching breaths, ve adds, "You don't have to pick a feeling, okay? I can take it if you're mad at me sometimes. I mean, you know that, Teresa is basically never not mad at me." That's an exaggeration, but it gets the expected snort. "It's okay."

She pulls her face out of Wander's sleeve to rub at her eyes, but she doesn't pull out of the hug. "It doesn't feel okay."

For a split second she reminds Wander so much of verself, pretending not to have just bawled hysterically on the deck of the Forecast, that ve would laugh if ve didn't know she would think ve was making fun of her. Ve wishes Linares was here to say something gruff and old-sea-captain-style wise-sounding; if ve tried to come up with some metaphor about fishing equipment, it would probably just make Cadenza roll her eyes. "It doesn't have to." Ve pauses, considering. "Maybe it shouldn't."

She does pull away then, but she doesn't go far. "It's not fair."

"Nope. So we gotta be fair to each other."

She bits her lip. "I'll try."

"Me too." Gently, Wander catches her hand. They sit there like that, breathing evening out as they stare up at the clouds, before ve breaks the silence again. "Hey—promise I'm not asking so I can yell. Which photo was it?"

"Mm? Oh." She shuffles her toes. "The campfire. Mooing. The one you—yeah."

Wander puffs up one cheek and blows the air out slowly. "Okay." Someone in the Capitol makes replicas of all the tribute's photos; Annie could get a replacement, if ve asked, and it's not like the one Cadenza ripped isn't already a replica anyway. Ve thinks ve'll keep the pieces, instead. This isn't something to sweep under the rug. "Not happy, but. Could've been worse."

"I guess."

"Seriously." Ve doesn't know whether ve could stay this calm if someone ripped the other group photo, the first one, and there are other happy memories tucked into that case, most of them unspoiled by the memory of bleeding out. There's the small pile of photos taken on the train after Annie returned ver case—faces peeking out from the blanket fort, Carter smiling, Carmen singing, Eve's vulture looking comically oversized in the train car—and some from home, though ve's taken increasingly painstaking care with the dwindling supply of film. "I mean... could've been better." Cadenza looks up. "Could've been that photo of some weird kid I took last Ratmas—"

"Hey!"

"—stuffing a whole fish in her mouth—"

"Nate dared me!" Cadenza yells, pulling her hand back to bat at Wander's shoulder, but she's laughing now, tears all but forgotten.

"So don't take dares from Nate!" Wander says, laughing as ve catches her hands. "You kids, I swear. Love you."

"Wan-der."

Ve takes a deep breath and hollers, "Hey everyone down there, my little sister's great even though one time she tried to chew on a whole—"

"Ripred, okay, I love you too—oh," Cadenza says, starting as the first drops of cold rain land on her face.

They both blink at each other for a moment, then look down at the roof, where evidence of a slow but insistent patter is emerging. "'Kay," Wander says, "we're going in."

"I like rain!"

"We're going in before the roof's too wet to be safe," ve says firmly. "You're lucky we had a shitty day and I'm not telling Dad and Ma you were up here at all."

Cadenza mouths a silent imitation of some bit of that and heaves a sigh, but she goes, even allowing Wander to hop down to the fence first and give her a steadying hand as she drops. Wander nudges her all the way inside until she joins in, mock-reluctant but at full volume, with the rain it is raining all the day long; it's a melancholy song, but most of them are, and it doesn't stop either of them from grinning as Wander whirls her around the kitchen.



this is set a few months before the 82nd Reaping.

title is from "Change" by Mapei (and if that love is the truth / it will come right back to you / it's beautiful inside of you). at the end they're singing "Bold Riley" because it's the only sea shanty I know with a line about rain.