stupid deep — carter & nico.

[gamemaker tallis 🧚🏽‍♂️kaitlin.]

FOOL ME ONCE, FOOL ME TWICE

You ask yourself the question in the dark of the night, three days sober, reaping day looming: what if this is who you're supposed to be? The thought makes you blanch, sit bolt upright in your stupidly plush bed, and before you know it you're shoving your feet into the shoes you like to run in the best, pushing open your front door.

You pretend not to notice Kendrick sleeping on your couch on your way out. Both of you like it better that way; existing in the same space, but not together.

The stars are crisp hours of pre-dawn, glowing in the night sky as you bolt into the safe canopy of the woods. They're hidden beyond the foliage, but you run until you see them ahead of you, run until your vision is blurry and then you run even further, run until you are panting and out of breath and you think that maybe, just maybe, you're going to collapse.

But the dawn is coming, and if the sun can rise through it all, then you will to do so as well.

It's still fairly early morning when you find yourself standing in front of the Laws house. You're not sure exactly what carried you there, only know that now you are here and you realize, belatedly, that this is exactly where you need to be. You knock on the front door before you can run again, and your district's mayor gives you a passing welcome before telling you that the person you're really here for is out in the gardens.

You waltz pass him, still not as comfortable with the fact that you killed his daughter as you are with the fact that you killed your friends' sister. He's been kind enough, not that you ever deserved it, but you still can't seem to look him full in the eye.

"Laws," you call out after stepping out the back door, bringing a hand to your forehead to try and shield away from sun so you might find the boy with as many flowers in his bones as you're now surrounded by. "I come in desperate need of some water," you go on, finally spotting him. You stride towards him, and in standard dramatic fashion, you collapse to the ground, exhausted from your run. "That, and some more of those spices you gave me. I think Ten must have snatched some of mine because there's no way I went through them that quickly."

You neglect to mention that you couldn't have used them all up because until all too recently you subsisted on a mostly liquid diet. Neither of you needs the reminder.

ARE YOU DEATH OR PARADISE?

[Tom]

The voice is always there in the rising of an early morning.

Sometimes, it's Mitchell's voice choking on his own blood; Other times, it's Max promising not to lose death; Rarely, it's the sound of coyotes and blood pooling from his ear. Nowadays, all he can hear is the sound of his own voice in pain, crying out to Jack about how he hadn't tried hard enough to save him. Always a chill to take over his body with a gasp from his throat lunging him forward with heavy breaths and bloodshot eyes. Never quite grasping that he was no longer in danger anymore, no longer in the arena, no longer the same boy from years ago who could shuffle a deck of cards and pick any card he wanted out of it. No longer the same kid who took Glamour Kinkade's indigo lipstick, putting it on to get the elusive eleven Bette had taken to. He wakes up every morning to a cursed breath and a shuddering reality leaving him to sigh at the barely lit sky.

No one talks when he pushes down the stairs in yesterday's clothes, pulling a mug of coffee to his lips. Jack had taken a liking to the bakery on the corner of the Justice Building since he's come back from the Peacekeeper's Ball. He's not exactly sure he wants a muffin, despite knowing Jack will leave it in the gardens in the afternoon after their dad tells of his mood. Silently, taking his mug to go and a bottle of water that his mother left out for him, he leaves a soft kiss on her head moving through the door to the one place where he doesn't feel as alone anymore.

Hands once used to destroy are no longer needed as he touches the petals of a zinnia that finally bloomed. A garden of living plants staring back at him, showing the weight of his own two hands. If only it could prove that he wasn't as bad as he truly felt some days. He's getting there. Slowly, he can see some of the brightness around the edges of his own thoughts breaking through. Sometimes, the glow comes in the form of a yellow marigold, the bright purple of azaleas finally growing, or the orange rose bush with Wander's forgiveness attached to it. The heart of his garden, heavy with thorns, but stunning in the soft glow of the morning light.

The spices and herbs linger on the other side, behind the blooming garden of flowers, signifying that he's no longer using his hands to hurt, but to nurture. Silently, he moves along through the morning, watering the pinks, purples, oranges, yellows, and blues of his new life born from the dirt. No one to watch him with bitter eyes. No memories of Cedar Halt or Reggie Blume to take him in a spiral. The soft touch of petals almost teasing the memory of Mitchell laughing in field near the outskirts of Twelve. Always still in his heart, even if it's been too many years where the memory of his brother's words grow blurrier by the day.

The sound of the back door catches his good ear, knowing that someone was intruding on his garden. Some of the younger siblings were known to spend some time taking in the fresh smell of his flowers. Jack sometimes would come out with a book, read whatever was in them and just take time to be with him. Ever since coming home, Jack's been silently letting him breath. His father had been pestering, but in the way a father was meant to try and be helpful. A reminder was always needed for him at times, but Carter couldn't blame himself for the pain he feels some days.

"Laws," It's the sound of Nico's voice that always makes Carter feel lighter than before. The need to roll his eyes at the last name comes forward, but they both know times were tough right now. Eyes avoiding his own at times, leading to the conclusion that there's still a certain weight to the past that lingers between them, but Nico could take all the time in the world if he needed to feel better. The weight of their own hands felt heavier than the bones they carry still. Looking up, it's almost an instant where he can see something is wrong, but never quite putting it into words in his head. A smile almost pulls on his lips, but he can only remember the blood on his own lips and his brother's years ago. "I come in desperate need of some water,"

The laugh on his own lips almost feels foreign after the past few months. Eyes stare at Nico Thorne for a moment before the boy falls dramatically to the ground, leaving Carter to smile softly down at him. Quietly, he reaches for the water bottle his mother set up for him this morning, letting the chill of the melted ice cool his hand for a moment. The straw hat on his head coming off finally, letting the cool air cool his sweat soaked hair. Eyes glance to his rose bush, with orange and red roses blooming. The aroma of life filling his senses as he listens to Nico Thorne, eyes settling in those warm brown irises.

"That, and some more of those spices you gave me. I think Ten must have snatched some of mine because there's no way I went through them that quickly." Of everyone in Panem, Ten would be the ones to take some more of his spices. A chuckle leaves his lips as he shuffles down onto the ground next to Nico, letting his eyes stare across the way to his rising sunflower, knowing next year there will be more. Maxwell heavy in his mind as he soaks in the appearance of a disheveled Nico Thorne. Some days are harder than others. He's learned that over the years. Nico seems to be the anomaly to his own thoughts some days. The weight of their hands together had caused more harm than good, but they still keep getting up over and over.

Reggie Blume was Nico's Maxwell Temple.

"Yeah, I have some more for you." Fingers pushing through his own hair as he stares at the petunias now. The hat coming back on as he lingers in his spot for a moment watching Nico Thorne, processing the way Nico Thorne looks and trying to pick out what felt different today about him. "The lavender finally bloomed yesterday." The words sound matter of factly on his lips as he stares at the purple flowers sending a beautiful scent through the garden. His hands pulled to the front of his knees as he rests his chin on them, staring at the beauty of the life he's created. Tears almost welling up in a sorrow and happiness, but he holds them back as he lets the truth that he wants to know leave his lips.

"How are you holding up, Nico?"

Care heavy in his voice, where others would expect hatred. Nico Thorne was a complicated victor with walls taller than others, but Carter knew what it was like to feel alone. Carter knew what it was like to hate yourself. Nico was the weapon used by the capitol. That was the only truth. Jack could believe what he wanted, but Carter knew Nico had it rougher than most. Leaning back to a position where he can stare sideways at Nico on the ground, he can feel the way the air is different. Almost as if Carter felt not as alone again. Fingertips almost touch Nico's as Carter lets himself breath and wait for an answer.

The smell of lavender mixing with the glow of the sun.

Everything felt different.

[gamemaker tallis 🧚🏽‍♂️kaitlin.]

FOOL ME ONCE, FOOL ME TWICE

There's something about Carter's garden that makes you feel, in a strange and intangible way, right at home.

Absently, you think that it must be because you've spent your entire life escaping beyond the fence, surrounding yourself on all sides with life created by the greenery there. There, lying on the earth and letting the early morning sun bake itself into your skin, the smell of flowers and herbs wafts all around you, earth magic or something equally as cliche that normally you'd turn your nose up at. You've always been like that, refusing to be honest with yourself about the things that you love, the things that bring you joy. For so many years, you focused on anything else, focused on the things that made you miserable, that which you thought would make you strong. You pretended that you didn't spend all week looking forward to the weekend when you could go out past the fence with Reggie and catch a rabbit or gather some berries to come back and give to Ten. You would pretend that the sun in the mid-afternoon wasn't your favorite, bright and strong and unflinching in its light. That walking through that grass meadow with your shoes off, feeling the dirt between your toes, wasn't the most grounding thing in the world.

Here, with your back against the soil, a garden growing all around you, it's the kind of place you belong.

Carter, with his magic touch, brought the world into his backyard, brought the forest out from beyond the fence and created his own little oasis right here in back of the mayor's house. You crack your eyes open, look at him long and honest, refuse to let yourself look away. He takes off his hat, and you let your eyes linger on the small beads of sweat on his forehead where the brim had been resting, take a drink from the bottle he hands you as you do so. Your Adam's apple bob's up and down as you watch the other boy laugh at you; you crack a smile though and find yourself laughing with him. Something about him, about being near him, no matter the past no matter the future no matter the truth of what the things tying them together were—Carter makes you smile, and for now, you can't bring yourself to think about it any more deeply than that.

You're three days sober, a kid sleeping on your couch that you're working up the nerve to talk to, and Carter is willing to offer you water and friendship and not ask you questions that you don't have answers to. For now, it's enough. It has to be enough.

If it's not, you're going to lose your mind from the loneliness.

The lavender finally bloomed yesterday he says, and you look around the garden, trying to remember which of the flowers in this place is the one Carter has named. You try not to shiver when you hear a soft voice in the back of your head, the voice of a boy from District Five with flowers in his blood and bones, wrapped all around his spine. You try not to think about days in the Training Center learning about plantlife from the boy you had fallen in love with. You've spent years trying to forget, trying desperately to remember every single second, trying to drown out the pain and pleasure alike because all of it hurts. All of it hurts.

You swallow when Carter asks you how you're doing, no idea how to answer. After all, when was the last time you even asked yourself something like that?

"Oh, you know me," you say thickly, but you will yourself to open your eyes, look sidelong at Carter. You open your eyes just in time to catch the sun on his mop of hair again before he puts his hat back on. "Business as usual." That's not true, and you know it, but there's something stuck in your chest when you try and even think about talking about the positive steps in your life. Like if you talk about them they won't be real.

Like you're going to jinx it.

You don't not notice Carter's fingertips right there next to your own, so to stop the itch you feel in your palm you push up, ever childish, and pluck the hat off of his head and put it on your own head.

"Will this help me remember exactly which one is the lavender?" Your eyebrow is hitched up, cheeky and playful. "Can't for the life of me remember which it is."

ARE YOU DEATH OR PARADISE?

[Tom]

Nico Thorne's laugh was a gift.

A gift given to him in a moment of fresh air and late morning sunrise, the warmth echoing across his skin in pricks of joy. A reminder of the humanity beneath both of their skin, the real person that resides in both of them among the memories of brokenness and bloodshed. A piece of the past that bubbles with their voices and reflects their present where a garden of his own life created by his own fingertips remain. A bubbling feeling of comfort echoing along his arms in the warmth of the morning sun where sunflowers point towards that warmth, breathing in the normalcy of the world around them. Nico Thorne's laugh was a gift to his heart. A moment where Carter Laws can just soak in a friendship never meant to be.

Lost in thoughts, Nico Thorne is lost in his garden of flora. Lavender in the air and the intoxicating scent of spring's warmth bleeding into their heart, bubbling on the edges of his soft intoxicating stare. Two broken boys escaping in a garden filled with life, born by his own hands. A given place where boys can hide away and pretend they were the same boys they had once been long ago with naivety and schoolyard games. A deck of cards splayed out in a hand of flowers and death, ready to pick out the fate of them both. Carter Laws' stare reaches across the garden of seeds he'd sown with his heart until he bled with the tears of his own sorrow, the sound of growling in his ears and a boot taking away his breath.

Indigo colored visions of the past that blossom like the petals of a flower glaring up to the sun, ghosts that echo along his skin with a flush of a new chance, a new path. The orange roses glistening with the dew of the morning, dripping slowly as if they were crying for the pain he still feels sometimes in the quiet of the morning or the silence of the late night. Nico's got a presence that reminds him of Maxwell Temple, hardened walls too large to climb, old enough to grow vines down to his toes where he dared to try and climb. A spear to the heart which still beats and the joker stares at him laughing that maniacal laugh with indigo lips and glittered fingers.

Pain was beautiful, yet so raw. Carrying his own heart in a million shattered pieces where blood splatters in his garden like parts of his soul were growing in those leaves and petals, where Nico stares out to see them all. Part of Carter to view like a museum of his own life, broken down and rebuilt into something much more beautiful than before. His brother would call it his oasis, the place where his heart truly remains and the spring filled air was his new life, born from legacy and survival.

"Oh, you know me," Carter knows him; hardened exterior with a heart beneath all of it. A smile dares to break from his lips, but he knew there was more to the story, but Nico continues with laidback words and shining skin. "Business as usual." A tingle shooting up from his fingertips where an edge of a motion rests in his mind. The words sound fair enough and Carter could see there was truth to it, but he can't help but feel the bits of his stomach that scream his gut is wrong. Instead of questioning it more, he lets the air go quiet where petunias smile back at him. The subtle feeling of an ache in his heart at the thought of Nico having anything more than being a symbol of Twelve and the horrors of the games.

A symbol both of them fall under in different ways.

Jealousy follows them both the same.

The feeling of warm air hits his head, the small drips of sweat falling through his hair as Nico's plucked his own hat from his head. A laugh falls from Carter's lips with a sweet as honey sound, bees buzzing around them for a moment as Carter lets Nico make the world seem a little bit brighter, both metaphorically and literately. Pieces of a puzzle clicking together as the sweet scent of jasmine and lavender fills the air, the calmness of the morning soaking in to the itch of his fingers wanting to reach for the hat or Nico Thorne. A floating feeling in his chest as Nico playfully speaks.

"Will this help me remember exactly which one is the lavender?" The hat fits just as well on Nico Thorne's head as his own. Hopelessly flawless in comparison to how he wore it, almost a look that reminded him that Nico was popular in the capitol for his appearance, his attitude, and the way he holds himself. He felt lucky to see the other side of him, where the hardened exterior is gone and a playful guy resides, stealing hats from him. "Can't for the life of me remember which it is."

For a moment, he laughs with the smallest of teasing in his pitch. A memory of Jack asking about each of the flowers that bloomed last week and how they can be made into tea or used for it's relaxing scent. A hat doesn't make a garden, but it certainly protects a gardener from the secrets beneath the skull where thoughts cut deep like a thorn crown along the temples of his head. For a second, he stares with a laugh, soaks in the sunlight before he leans forward into Nico Thorne's space. Fingertips close enough that Carter could reach out and hold his hand if he desired to, but instead, he lets the words fill his lips and points outwards to the lavender plant.

"It's the purple flower over there, the smell is supposed to help with sleep."

Leaning back, Carter stares for a moment in the spring air, filling his head with a cloudiness of his own joy.

"And as much as I wish the hat would help me remember what is what, I don't think it does much."

Not much, except making Nico Thorne look even more cuter than before.

"It looks good on you though."

A teasing smile on his lips as Carter lets the sun glow around him, the scent of lavender and jasmine reaching his nostrils as the ground grows beneath him.

"Could be the next Capitol trend you start."