coloured indigo — kent & teddy

[tick 12a / calla]

K E N T

Visiting Kane seems like the only constant these days.

Because work is shitty, home is even shittier, and having a tribute placing second seems to do more bad than good to the economy. Or at least that's what the guys say, when they're only half-busy loading the shipments and sorting through the capsules and cursing themselves deaf.

At least their slacking was good for one thing - the boss was too busy chewing their ears off to even notice me take the rest of the day off. It's been way too long since I've been able to get away from the lab even long enough to see Kane.

See, we set him up in a little clinic on the outskirts of the square, close to the manufacturing heart, because it was one of the only places we could afford. And I know the smog isn't good for his lungs, and I know the streets can get bad at night, but at least he's somewhere. At least he's getting help, and that's all I can ask.

I honestly don't know what to do without him.

And at least the doctors there are accommodating to parents who barely show up and a brother who barely can show up, and they aren't exactly above using the drugs I bring in from the street. Because a lot of the higher up hospitals treat that shit like gold. It's like the rest of us aren't worth any kind of healthcare, and they'd rather watch a kid suffer than cough up some extra morphine.

I brought another little baggie of pills for Kane this time, in the shape of little stars because he said that makes them easier to take, and they're just to help ease the pain a little, enough to tide him over until the month is over and I finally get paid so I can get him some real stuff.

When I get to the hospital and the little bell above the door jingles, there’s a new girl sitting at the front desk, one I've never seen before, but I know how tightknit the staff are here. I still don't hand anything over to anyone but the head doc, because really, it's his job on the line, but it's still nice to know that there's a sense of security here, and I can trust my brother with these people.

Except when I tell the receptionist who I’m there for she has a visible reaction. Her eyes widen a bit, and she sits up straighter in her chair, when she hands over a little visitor badge she gives me a little wink and it does nothing more than confuse the hell out of me.

My first instinct is that Kane got himself into some kind of trouble again, that he pulled some kind of prank, like the time he thought it would be funny to hide from the doctor instead of getting his shots, and I'm hurrying to his room before the thought can even start to escalate because oh god oh shit he’s supposed to be resting.

So maybe I'm a little hurried when I open the door, maybe I'm a little preoccupied, because I get all the way through, "Kane Caulin what have you done this time?" before I notice that there's someone in the room with him.

And I almost turn right around, because Kane is sitting up in his bed, perfectly fine and propped up against about ten too many pillows, looking at Teddy Ursa like he just hung up all the stars in the sky. He's barely even noticed that I've walked in, still babbling by the time the door swings shut and by the near-blue shade of his face I'd say he's been going for a while.

"Did you really lose your leg? What's your new one made out of? What's the Capitol like? What's the food like? Is it better than here? My mom's cooking is pretty bad, so it probably is. Hey, do you wanna see my action figures? I got yours for my birthday when you won, it's pretty cool, you can take the leg off and everything. Does your real leg do that? Can you show me-"

He's talking a mile a minute, barely breathing, and I half expect a nurse to come in to check why his oxygen levels have suddenly spiked.

But they're probably just as shell shocked as I am to see a victor in a place like this.

I don't know what he's doing here, and I'm not even sure that I want to know. I try not to think about his Capitol connections and how easily he could get me arrested for the handful knock-off painkillers in my bag.

My heart rate starts to slow when I glance worriedly at Kane and he finally decides to notice me, when sticks his tongue out from behind Ursa's back.

Twerp.

"Uhh, Mr. Ursa," And I really don't want to be rude, because hello, there's a victor standing in the room, but I'm rocking back and forth, and it's been over a month since I've last seen my brother. I don't think even Teddy Ursa could stand between me and my allotted fifteen minutes of visitation right now. "Can I help you?"

[Tom]

Teddy Ursa considered this his retribution for the failure he carries on his shoulders.

Six relies on him like he relies on air to breathe. The weight is unbearable some days, where he stands with his shoulders strong and his back straight, pretending like he isn't always approaching a collusion of emotions and breakdowns with everything else going on in his life. Walter Blake was dead. Parson Cham was a father. Lili was still a brat. Malachi was still as quiet as ever. It's on these days where Teddy has to count backwards from one hundred to remind himself not to remember the days he spent hidden in a cupboard trying to pretend he had a normal family as a kid. It's on these days where he can feel the heat of lava across his back and along his one foot. Ree Fer begging him to just forget about the past and spit upon his grave.

It's days like these where Theodore Ursa is the most nervous.

Memories of days spent in hospital beds trying to remember his own life, but failing to do so. His not real mother telling him that he didn't have to if he didn't want to. Trauma really sucks on days like this where he hovers from terminally ill children's beds trying to be the hero many of them looked up to, despite knowing he was nothing more than a waste of time. The fake smile plastered across his lips knowing more than half of their parents hated his guts because he was rich, always has been and always will be. A victor who doesn't look out for his people, despite all the years spent trying to make a difference in the world with what he had. Call him selfish for caring about his siblings being in a home with parents like his. No one deserved that.

Kane Caulin was just a boy like him once, probably played pirates and knights like he did as a kid, but now he's just a boy who's sick. Sick and dying, but Teddy refused to acknowledge the truth behind it, every time he tried it led to tears behind dim streetlights and cluttered alleyways. A smile is all he can give, pay attention to the way the kid talks animatedly about this and that as if Teddy knew anything he was talking about. He cared about them more than anyone would really know. Funds from his own pocket would be put into these hospitals, funding to keep them alive or to find an impossible cure.

It's scary how much the kid reminds him of childhood. Lack of care for words that probably were hard to hear, but that bluntness would change others. It's in this moment where he's introduced himself to Kane Caulin and was preparing to do anything the boy wanted within reason when someone else walks into the room. The air in the room seems to freeze for Teddy, but Kane continues talking while he can hear the voice of who Teddy would guess was Kane's relative speak behind him, almost scaring Teddy from the days when people behind his back meant blades cutting into him.

"Kane Caulin what have you done this time?"

A small chuckle breaks from his throat as Kane continues asking him questions about everything the boy could come up with.

"Did you really lose your leg? What's your new one made out of? What's the Capitol like? What's the food like? Is it better than here? My mom's cooking is pretty bad, so it probably is. Hey, do you wanna see my action figures? I got yours for my birthday when you won, it's pretty cool, you can take the leg off and everything. Does your real leg do that? Can you show me-"

"Uhhhh..." The questioning phrase falls from his lips as he blinks from Kane to his brother, at least that's Teddy's guess. A sheepish feeling settles in his stomach as he steps back just a little bit, watching both of their eyes once more. The phantom ache of wanting to curl his toes in his missing leg hits him hard. Teddy Ursa action figures seemed like a waste of time, but wasn't that what he was. People would market a toy where Teddy's leg can be ripped off just like Wendell Gordon had done so easily. Just as popular as the golden lance they sold in the capitol markets letting kids pretend they're tributes themselves. A chill runs down Teddy's spine as the brother speaks again, questioning him.

"Uhh, Mr. Ursa," The brother seems to be trying to be polite. Teddy knew what feigning politeness looked like, after all he's spent years practicing it now. "Can I help you?"

There's something behind the words that feels threatening, almost as if he were the problem in this room. Teddy Ursa, Victor of the Seventy Sixth, problem of district six. A silence fills him as he takes in the words, Mr. Ursa was his father not him. A chill runs down his spine as he can feel the tautness in his jaw and for a second, he's so tired that he might actually tell the kid that he hates this at times, but he also knew he had to do this. Not for his sake, but for everyone stuck here with no family and too many fears.

One hundred. Ninety nine. Ninety eight.

The numbers start counting down in his head to keep himself composed. So much was going on in his life that he didn't want to upset someone else once more. Walter Blake was already dead, he didn't need to make more mistakes in District Six. He's already let them down. A smile is all he can muster as he's about to tell Kane's brother that it was fine and that he enjoyed visiting the lost youth. Nostalgia for his days running around hospitals trying to be a positive influence while he tried to remember his life from before.

There's a noise from outside that rips through the district. Loud, destructive, and he swears he can hear the burst of lava rocks slamming back into the sand and area surrounding. The sound of gunshots in his ears once more. Heavy breath as he's already been thrown back into the arena, remembering Clementina's bullet wound and his own advice. Except he can hear a voice from the hall, yelling something that'll join Wendell Gordon and Luxa Pellotte in his nightmares.

"There's been an explosion!"

Not near the hospital. Multiple smokes fill the sky across the district. Eyes peering through the glass windows of the hospital, until there's red filling his vision, too close to them. Teddy's body acts before his mind can think as he pulls Kane from the machines, hoping he was as careful as he thought he was, but still it would probably hurt. Silently, pushing the kid behind him as he flips the mattress up to block whatever he can, it's the best shot they have at not getting hurt. Running would have done nothing.

"Hey. Hey. We're gonna be okay, stay behind me."

The sound of glass shattering and spraying at the mattress, bits cutting into his hands as he holds it out still. The sound reminds him of Hei Hei's cries ringing through his ears those days. The heat hits next, warm and damaging as he can feel his skin burn, the feeling reminding him too much of the lava that he had escaped from. The mattress would be destroyed after this, but he had to keep these two safe.

Fuck, he couldn't save everyone. He couldn't save anyone. The explosion reaches his ears, a loud bang as he swears under his breath. The mattress blocking what it can of the strike. Burn marks along his arms, glass sticking out between his knuckles, blood dripping from them as he lets the mattress hang over them like a shield. The kids would be alright. The kids were behind him. Calm, collected, but his heart was racing out of his chest. Another explosion happens and Teddy can feel his body grow heavier and heavier.

"Fuck."

Lux's words ring in his ears once more.

A victor can't have a heart.

The roof crumbles.

The scream escapes his throat broken and panicked.

Ruin's found him.

table by zoe

[tick 12a / calla]

K E N T

There's an awkward sort of silence when no one moves and Teddy Ursa looks suddenly very uncomfortable.

Kane glares at me like I just cancelled Ratmas.

He was too little to watch the 76th, hadn't even started school yet, but by the time the quell rolled around and the doc had to stay inside more often, he'd be glued to the victory presentations just for the five seconds of screen time Ursa would get.

There's a muted crash down the hall, probably one of the nurses, and I wait for Ursa to say something, maybe explain why he's standing in my brother's hospital room instead of doing whatever it is victors do down in the village. But there's a tremor that shakes the ground, making the little monitor for Kane's vitals shake, and someone further in the building suddenly starts screaming. Kane looks at me then, confused, and I move towards the door to check what's going on before there's another crash, louder this time, and smoke slowly fills the view outside of the window.

Teddy is moving between one blink and the next, and I still don't know what's going on other than the unsettling feeling of dread that settles over me. But then the windows start to rattle and I'm jolted in action. Teddy reaches Kane first, grabs the mattress and I do the first thing I can think of, throw myself over my brother and trying to ignore the way he squirms and protests at the sudden jostling.

His little Teddy Ursa doll is in one fist and the real Teddy Ursa's shirt is in the other. I can tell he's shaken from all the noise, with his white-knuckled grip and his sudden quiet. And it's almost too quiet - because I know the moment Kane shuts up is the moment that somethings really wrong, "Hey, breathe kid, c'mon."

There's a loud, echoing boom boom boom, and a hysterical part of me wonders if it sounds too much like a cannon, if it'll set the victor off. Because I remember the stories the guys at the factories used to tell about all the career victors who would come home after their games with paranoia in their eyes and would snap at everything that moved. But now Six's only living victor is bleeding over us and if he dies, they're probably going to think I killed him and they'll lock me away or kill me or something fucking shit.

My ears are still ringing but the dust seems to settle, clustering in my lungs, so I tentatively glance at him. He must've gone through some shit if he had acted that fast. And I don't just mean the games.

I glance at the bed where Kane was seemingly seconds ago, upturned and covered in broken glass, and feel nauseas creep into my stomach, "What the hell was that?"

I cough and move back a little, let Kane have a little room to breathe after I practically shoved him to the floor. Looking around the ruined area, from where the windows have shattered to where a small fire flickers outside, I spot Kane's IV is leaking out onto the floor, and I don't know exactly what shit they put in there, but I know it's probably important and it's right there. When I look at Kane again he's so fucking pale that I take a shaky breath and move towards it.

But maybe there’s an aftershock, or the explosion just messed with the foundations of the building, because there's a sickening crack that cuts through the silence before the roof comes down and I can't tell if it's Kane screaming or if it's me or if it's Teddy because there's suddenly huge sections of cement crashing down over my shoulder and my side and my arm and there's a sort of winded sound punched out of me that I've never heard before.

"Kane?" I rasp frantically, because if the rubble clipped him he's fucked and I wasn't prepared to lose him today, not this soon, "Kane?1" I think I hit the ground, or I hit my head, and my whole left side switches from being numb to being on fire and the room twists and turns and spins and I can't seem to catch a breath because my whole arm is being fucking crushed and Kane must've wiggled away from Ursa because he's looking at me and he's saying something but all I can hear is the blood rushing to my head and the sound of blind panic starting to set in.

I'd always thought that the most terrifying moment of my life would be Kane's second reaping. Because he had made it through his first one with my eyes glued to the back of his head, ready to volunteer as soon as the first syllable of his name came out of the escort's mouth. But we only have one year left with an escape clause, and in the past month, his illness has worsened more than it has in the past year.

I'll turn nineteen soon and then if my little brother gets called I'll probably have to watch him die on the train ride to the Capitol and there's not a fucking thing I can do about it.

I guess he's always just been my first priority.

There's a layer of smoke gathering in the bits where the ceiling used to be and it jogs something loose, Kane's using his little stick arms to try and move the cement off of me and I try to tell him to stop because he's only going to hurt himself but my voice doesn't work until I remember his lungs.

He coughs and the way it rattles his whole chest makes me try to push him away, trying not to move my neck and using one hand to shove him toward Teddy, trying to avoid looking left and ignore how much I shake. "The smoke- get Kane out, please," and ripred I sound like shit, voice all strained and cracking and I think if I could cover Kane's ears I would, "Get him out of here."