Sometimes silence screams [Carter/Fiona] Blitz

[*]

Fiona Zachariah

---

Freedom came like a wish. Even though the people were numerous around, the calamity of having so many of the living tributes around spread out the need to meet each and every one of us that showed up. I was no exception, but crowds and talking were never my strong point. Since I returned, I had built a wall. Fable was the only one that could see what the games had done and nearly four years later, I am still coping just as I am sure everyone else is.

However, a new blow came only a few weeks ago.

News of his death hadn’t been released as much as I thought it might, considering no one has even mentioned him around me. They probably saw what happened during the games with him and have decided it best to leave it alone. I, on the other hand, have been praying silently that the topic never surfaces. It still pains me to think of it and before I had met the kind avox, his form stood not far away.

I swear, I made eye contact with Carter, but as the encounter with the avox stretched for over ten minutes alone, he must have either saw and didn’t care to confront me or he was biding his time.

As I stand alone, I scope out the many capitolites and watch as a few disappear. In a flash, I notice the back of Quest’s head before disappearing with some girl. I smile knowing that she’s getting along and I wrap my arms around my torso. My stomach flips and I catch myself leaning against the wall, staring into the ceiling whispering for relief.

[Tom]

It tears his heart apart.

The Ball is so empty without Maxwell somewhere. Maybe it's just his head, but he can see Max everywhere lately. He can see him in the dressed up guys that linger on the edges of the Ball, but he's not there no matter how much Carter wishes he were. Instead, he can see Nico and Lars. Lars who still didn't know what happened yet. The world barely knew what was going on, but he's silent about it, waiting for the right moment to spill the truth, but Twelve already knew, at least Nico did.

Silence is louder than the quiet Max used to carry around the room.

It's so much harder than he expected it to be. Losing something so big to him. A piece of his heart left in the dust and he'll never get that piece back. The joker in his pack feeling heavier than before. The deck of cards that his father had insisted on buying when they first arrived in District Two of all places. A sigh from his lips until they make eye contact, where his breath goes still and he can feel himself falling. Fiona and him may have not gotten along after their deaths, but now it's been a few years and he can feel those grievances feeling like pitiful things.

Besides, he could tell that she knew.

They had common ground. A suffering that's almost similar, so he approaches cautiously before stopping in front of her.

"Uh... C-Can we talk Fiona?"

[*]

Fiona Zachariah

---

Aches that never heal will never go away. Phantom pain that lingers is more than just losing limbs and missing eyes, it's a pit in my stomach that knows what happened in the games, who I battled. It's phantom pains knowing that words and actions have consequences and no matter how much I wish I could go back and change things, or just fix things, it just won't happen. It can't. The past can not be fixed with words and glue.

Max knew that and so do I and so does Carter. Our post death argument replays in my head. The blame he places on me. The way Max always avoided me in the district for three years. Things like that just sit in the pit of my stomach causing an ache that will never go away.

I want relief, somehow.

How could I not try to mend what had been broken between district partners? Even if it wasn't just one sided to take part?

Though, I feel calmer as soon as my breathes come in and out with regular intravals. A rhythm to keep pace, slowing my heart and listening to the music until I can feel the wind first of someone awfully too close to me and a shadow casts against my skin. I look at Carter, fearfully in my heart, as he speaks to me. He actually speaks to me.

Is he a ghost?

"Yeah." My voice whispers out and for once, I want to face the past I've been avoiding. His features are not what they used to be. The last time we came face to face, I saw anger, hatred and contempt for my life. Now, I see sorrow, sadness and emptiness.

He knows and I wonder if he's here to make a scene again. "Do you want to - step outside where it's quieter?"

[Tom]

"Yeah."

The word is softer than he expected. The entire word wrapped around a hundred pent up emotions that they've never worked on. Stuff that Carter knew was wrong then, but still did because grief and guilt make people do insane things. Things that he'll probably regret for as long as he lived, but for now, he's softer than before. Eyes almost threaten to water, but it's just in his head. The sight of Fiona, but no Max was harder to swallow than before. A pitiful feeling fills his stomach as he fiddles with his hands, not knowing what to do.

"Do you want to - step outside where it's quieter?"

Outside. It would be easier outside without the noise and peering eyes. A nod as he leads the way outside, hoping she follows him. His suit jacket a little more tighter on his frame as the cold air of District Two reddens his cheeks. A slight twinge of something ironic about this sorrow and sharing it with someone who he once would have given up to mutts, but now, he wouldn't wish death upon any of them. After losing Max, death would feel too real, too raw, and too much. A shiver runs up his spine as he speaks in a gentle voice.

"First, I should apologize for the past. I was wrong. So fucking wrong. Grief and guilt are hard to deal with."

A small frown on his face as he can feel tears threaten to form, but he's staying strong, as strong as he physically can, but he's breaking already.

"I-I know... I know he's... Max... He's..."

dead. The word doesn't come out, but instead he breaks as small sobs wrack through his body.

[*]

Fiona Zachariah

---

After all these years, I tried my best to try to forget him but it never worked. It was like the capitol reaped one of us on purpose to just make us remember what they are capable of. Yet I was staring at one of the men that made my after death experience nearly impossible to survive.

The president should have been the one to gain this blame.

I placed the offer for silence which Carter took and began to lead me away. I watched his back, dropping my head just enough to watch his steps all the while automatic responces seemed to flow through my mind. How I was going to react to what questions he might expell in my direction. What I might say when he mentions my district partner, his best friend. What harsh words might lash out. It was a conversation that three years of waiting hadn't prepared me for.

The brittle voice wasn't what I expected to hear. I shake my head slightly knowing I don't deserve it.

"I-I know... I know he's... Max -" His name is echoed over a thousand times in so many ways. The night it happened, I was lost to myself over Wander's name being sounded. That morning, I was drunk with euphoria as Fable was able to say. And before I had breakfast, his name was gone like that. I feel frozen as I watch this once angry person break down into tears. The world is a lot bigger than our ourselves. Dealing with something so heavy has my eyes welling up and it's instinct to take care of my own.

I wrap my arms around him, despite our past. "I know... I know about it, Carter." I place my head near his heart and listen. "I'm so sorry -"

[Tom]

"I know... I know about it, Carter."

Her words form heavy in the air as it comes crashing into him like a wave of relief and grief at the same time. Fiona mourned. Fiona must have been hurt for a long while. They were district partners after all. The one thing he didn't want was for her to blame herself because of his own words years ago. Tears cross his cheeks as he rubs at an eye as she continues to speak to him.

"I'm so sorry -"

His heart beats in a frantic sorrow, leaving behind nothing more than the scars that surround it. The sound of his own silent sobs pulling at the emptiness of his one ear. The phantom pain of his chest echoing the same sorrow that he carries for Maxwell Temple. It's hard to fall for someone and then know they've died twice. Twice in three years. Once in order to be a pawn in someone else's game and again to be gone for good and leave behind the status of pawn.

Instead of crying more, Carter stiffens as he can feel himself move and soon enough he breaks. Arms wrapping around Fiona as he lets himself sob in front of someone who he once was worried would stab him in the back, literally. A chill runs up his spine as they stay there for a moment, his body shaking from what he's never gotten to say.

"I.... I-I loved him and I just.... I feel broken Fiona... I don't know how to tell the others."

[*]

Fiona Zachariah

---

It's one thing to deal with guilt. It's a whole other scenario to deal with blame. At this very moment, both feelings that had plagued me day in and day out, even more so in the last few weeks, were brought to a head.

I felt terrible that I didn't do more to reach out to Maxwell. When Carter and I locked eyes for that briefest of moments, that's when the years caught up to me. I was sure I could avoid it for another year, but Carter saw fit to end everything holding us back from forgiving our past debts.

I commend him.

Because now, I have my arms wrapped around a tearful man once hell bent on making sure I was to be the reason for Max's death. His chest jerks while his eyes spills tears and he sobs so openly. I feel his tears falling on my bare shoulders, rolling. If it were any colder, they'd crystalize right there. My fingers trace circles on his back trying to comfort him until he returns the hug, his arms wrapping around my back.

A new sensation follows this gesture. I can't place it - what is - this - supposed to be?

"I... I-I loved him and I just... I feel broken Fiona... I don't know how to tell the others."

"You don't have to if you don't want to but I know why you say this. It's a silent pact, almost, our games. We are kind of family now - in a weird way. I have yet to - reach out to anyone yet. I didn't feel it was my place to." I finally admit. Would Carter even understand the amount of people that would take a jab at me for the news of his death to be from the girl who wanted him dead in the first place? Things like that just don't leave and the gossip to follow would be hell.

"I'm not the right person to help with that. I will be there if you want me to when you decide to tell someone about Max." His name sounds foreign on my tongue.

[Tom]

"You don't have to if you don't want to but I know why you say this. It's a silent pact, almost, our games. We are kind of family now - in a weird way. I have yet to - reach out to anyone yet. I didn't feel it was my place to."

Family.

They were all some sort of fucked up family who had killed one another. Maybe that's why he wipes the tears on his cheeks, trying to stop the wetness of the tears from his sobs. His heart aches and there's a hollowness, but he ignores the pain and swallows it down as he gives a small nod, ignoring the chill of the air and the echoing sound of his heart breaking over and over. Nothing changes the fact that Maxwell Temple is dead, but at least he can stand here and act like he can truly tell others and hold himself high.

His father had lingered earlier in the evening near him with eyes that stared as if he could break in just moments. And here he was, broken, but he's at least dealing with where his emotions had taken him for once. No more bottling things up and ignoring them for years and years. A silent sob breaks through his body, but he breathes deeply before letting out the breath.

"I'm not the right person to help with that. I will be there if you want me to when you decide to tell someone about Max."

It takes a moment for the words to process.

"I... Yeah."

The words slip as he begins retreating into his thoughts before coming back forward to give Fiona the weakest smile, but he's feeling a little better just telling someone who was there. Someone who was in the games. Someone who was suffering the same and differently, but still understood what had happened. A deep breath before he shuffles his feet for a moment and speaking.

"Yeah, I-I appreciate it. I'll probably be telling Lars myself."

Fears bubbles in his chest.

"God, where's the Carter who stood his ground to you. Sorry for that again, but ripred, I need some of that confidence to get through this ball without sobbing again."