Fight or Flight [D6 Train]

[Kingston Cesaire D3A [Tom]]

A small spark causes the fire of a new age.

For Teddy Ursa, the spark comes in the form of letting go of the ghosts that cling to his mind, engulfing him in the doubt of his own abilities as if he were drowning underneath the lava pouring out of the volcano where his new life began. The ghosts are still there. Pieces of a puzzle that bleeds with the reminder of his own strength. Strength to survive through trauma and breathe in the air on the other side. The ability to stand taller than before and still smile at the right moments and feel alive, even if his head screamed at him with guilt. Teddy Ursa's found his own stride since seeing the graves of his ghosts, leaving behind the hatred for himself and breathing clearly again afterwards.

The reaping felt different. A warmth bubbling over his cheeks with the sun in his eyes, never quite reaching the same fear of watching Parson climb those stairs. Remembering the way his own feet had felt climbing upwards to the one place he didn't deserve to be, but still resides eleven years later. Double volunteers meant a lot to Six, whether people were proud or laughed at them didn't matter. Teddy had seen enough tributes to know there's always a story to be told, a feeling to captured, and a promise to be made. Some days, he still feels too weak to continue them. Leaving flowers by the graves of tributes he's failed in the past. Walter Blake being a sting upon his tongue still. Youth gone to soon like Flynn will end up being.

Unless, Flynn could be better than Walter.

Syren seems different. The memory of tears on the other girl's face and the quick moment Teddy could catch in a glimpse from on stage to someone unknown. A memory of staring back to the place he had once called home before taking his sentence for the 76th comes tumbling forward. Something aching in his chest, but now he's sitting there in a train car full of food and alcohol and all sorts of pleasantries with no cravings for any of it. A fleeting feeling in his chest before he taps once, twice, thrice onto the empty wine glass.

After the last year, where Shy had come back, letting Quest breathe once more and dealing with the memories of an anniversary he doesn't want to think about anymore, he's glad there's some unknown in both of his tributes. No attached feelings to loved ones in his life, no memories of childhood that flutters between them, and nothing other than reminders of his past tributes. A silence fills the air, swirling with a bitterness of his own mindset, but he swallows it down in order to watch the two volunteers to enter the car.

Past Victor of the Year staring at the empty wine glass, knowing he'll do what he can for them. The capitol had heard about the incident with Terra. Rumors of him picking up a spear again and physically training with his tributes once more having sparked discussions. Discussions that he didn't want to be apart of at all, but there's only so many times he can claim no comment to reporters and interviewers with the publicized smile he holds heavily. For a second, he could remember the fear of picking up another weapon and striking someone, even for the benefit of them. The fear bubbling behind his eyes, but he could remember the feeling of control and safety once more. A feeling of no longer drowning over his heart staying there for hours after.

"Okay, I think you both know what I am going to ask you."

Standing up, he smiles with the same friendly smile he had given Parson and Georgie days ago. The feeling of movement where the train starts it's journey to the capitol's shining city. Eyes staring at Flynn, who looked small enough for Teddy to think of his own friends back when they would pretend to be pirates or knights in the streets of Six. A chill runs down his spine before he feels his mood shift into the same looks his parents used to give him when they were disappointed with a small thing he had done.

"Why did you volunteer?"

[d6a georgie cham 🍓🐢 frankel]

I can still hear mom and dad as they walk down the hallway in the justice building and the door closes behind them. Tears and rage were shared between them, there were no goodbyes. No good lucks. Not even a why. Mom was just really pissed. Like mega mega pissed. Dad was absolutely losing his mind but instead of going all out crazy on me like mom, he just sobbed. They have never been this strict before. Never been so disappointed. Maybe I have lived to their standards for all these years. Forever being their angel little boy. The boring one who does not step a single toe out of line. Total ignorance to my antics out in the playground.

Then there is silence in the room. They did not even bring my sisters. They did not even ask why. I still cannot believe it. Though would anyone believe that George would be so threatening? Would they believe my word over his over what really happened to Tommy? I still do not know his true fate. Just words passed on from my friends. Friends that are not walking up the hallway to see me.

I pick at my thumb nails as I sit at the big table in the even bigger room. Maybe one of my grandparents will come. One of my many still alive grandparents, or even the cousins. Even my family is so mediocre. There are no dramas. Not even cheaters. None of them would have expected a volunteer to share their blood. Not a thirteen-year-old one who has been set up for the same life as his parents.

Silence is wiped away by footsteps. The footsteps are quite heavy, they sound regimented. Neither of my friends can march like that. Unless it is George filled with rage, ready to take back his word and bash my skull right here and now. The door swings open and it is just them in the white armour. ”Does nobody else want to see me, is this it?” There is a grumble from them both. Well so much for being best friends for life. The last chance to speak to me before they see me in my grave. That is if they will even bother turning up to the funeral…

Both of my arms are gripped tightly by the peacekeepers and I am marched away. This is no fun. Being dragged from one room to the next. I do not like playing this game. I try and match the steps of the peacekeepers. They are both so synchronised with each placement of their feet. I finally match them, but it does not take long for me to trip. ”Walk properly kid.” One quickly says as they catch me before I face plant the floor. I cannot even walk properly. There is no hope. And now my sisters will never hear of the sacrifice I made…

I am quickly up the steps of the train, sat amongst all the food and alcohol that I have yet to ever taste. Dad does not keep a single drinking drop in the house. Its only use is for cleaning. I have found mom’s secret stash though…

Syren, the girl is another volunteer. I do not know her. She is much older than me and probably has a more interesting backstory than mine. At least District Six will have a name to cheer on. Though Flynn is one syllable compared to two so is much easier to chant… I have only seen Teddy Ursa from afar at events, at the reapings. Anywhere where he can show off that crown of his.

An orange juice is poured into a glass in front of me. Except it is just the colour orange and not the actual fruit as I take one sniff and it really does not taste like the citrus that I have had on very rare occasions. Well, at least I will be able try some nice things, before I get my head chopped off.

"Why did you volunteer?" Teddy Ursa asks the one question my parents never did. I wish I just gave them the answer. I wish I had just shouted over my mom. That time has gone. They will only be able to hear my words from the cameras. I grip hold of the foreign glass of orange juice but not actual orange juice. ”There was an incident. Someone died. Geor-… This is my punishment. Please do not tell anyone. Not yet.” I look around for any cameras. Now is not the right time. Though Teddy Ursa may be my only help in this.