Work Text:
Just close your eyes, the sun is going down
You'll be alright, no one can hurt you now
Come morning light, you and I'll be safe and sound
“How many times is your name in there?”
Eddie’s grip on Christopher’s shoulder tightens, the fabric of his nephew’s blue shirt creasing beneath his hold. If Christopher notices he doesn’t say anything and Eddie distantly wonders if the boy needs to be grounded as much as he does.
Eddie swallows the tight lump in his throat, “Uh, twenty-four I think.”
He tilts his head in Shannon’s direction, watching her expression shutter for a brief moment. The morning is grey, the warmth of the sun tucked behind the clouds that’ve crowded the sky since they’d return from their hunt.
Eddie remembers the way golden rays of the sunrise fell over Shannon’s face, as they sat in the small clearing sharing a loaf of bread with fresh butter Shannon managed to get for a few squirrels. He could count the freckles dotting her cheeks, the way they brushed over her nose.
In that moment she looked soft, like the horrors of what today will bring were simply a distant memory.
He’s known Shannon almost all his life; fiery and strong and never one to back down. Shannon was the first person Eddie ever heard whisper the word revolution. It terrified him right down to his core because he’d seen first hand the consequences of what those ten letters spoken aloud could do.
They were beyond the boundaries of District Twelve, deep in the woods, and Shannon was angry and upset at the world for how their district was starving. How the games would only make things worse in the next few weeks.
When she let the word revolution slip Eddie froze, eyes shooting to the sky like something would suddenly appear and snatch them from the safety of the trees.
After several, agonizing seconds — lost in the sound of birds, the wind blowing through the pines, the babble of a nearby brook — nothing happened. He and Shannon took a collective deep breath and Eddie let the knowledge that Shannon trusted him more than anyone else comfort him.
“Eddie,” she finally says, voice breaking on his name, “twenty-four?”
Eddie can’t look at her right now. Shannon’s was a raging wildfire and Eddie had always been afraid of being burned. He thinks Shannon might love him. Eddie’s afraid of that too. Love is dangerous. He can’t afford to love anyone else beside his family. Especially in that way.
“What do you want me to say, Shannon?” He shoots back harshly, keeping his voice low. “Let my sisters starve? You know it hasn’t been easy since—”
Since his dad died a year and half ago in a mining accident two months before his fifteenth birthday. Since Eddie was the only one of age he had no choice, but to let his name be placed in the reaping more than once in exchange for a meager amount of food to help his family get by.
“I know,” Shannon says quietly, she gives his arm a gentle squeeze, “I know.”
“What about you?” He asks with a raise of an eyebrow as he shoves everything down down down.
He can’t think of his dead father right now. He can’t think about how he almost lost the war fighting his own personal hunger game, slumped against a tree in the pouring rain. He can’t think about sky blue eyes and the prettiest shade of pink splashed over pale skin and the boy who—
“Eighteen.” Shannon laughs humorlessly. “Pot meet kettle, I guess.”
Eddie chuckles, but it catches in his throat when they reach the front of the queue. There’s a few peacekeepers directing them to where they will be standing for the reaping.
They’re sorted by age; the youngest — just twelve years old — will be sent to the front and the oldest near the back. Having a male and a female tribute died out long ago when a terrifying sickness swept through districts ten and eight and killed all of their potential male tributes. Rules were changed and everyone was fair game. As long as the Capital has two tributes between the ages of twelve and eighteen then that’s all that mattered.
Christopher’s eyes go wide with panic and he shuffles closer to Eddie, not wanting to be separated.
“Hey,” Eddie says soothingly, running his hands over Christopher’s arms, “hey, Chris it’s okay.”
“I don’t want to leave you.” Christopher says, eyes glossing over with tears. He’s trembling from head to foot, his fingers wrapping around his crutches until his knuckles turn white. “I can’t do it.”
Other kids from their district move around them, their faces filled with the same dread and fear that’s lived in the pit of Eddie’s stomach ever since he understood what it meant to be separated from your family; to stand in front of this stage and pray that your name isn’t called.
It festered and took root in his heart, wrapped like a hot coil around his lungs. The Diaz’s have been lucky so far, but Eddie knows luck can’t hold out forever. Not when your name is in that bowl twenty-four times.
No, the odds are simply not in his favor.
“I know it’s scary, Chris,” Eddie says, waiting until Christopher’s gaze locks onto his, “but I won’t be too far away and as soon as it’s all over I’ll come find you.”
“Promise?” Christopher asks, blue eyes so wide and trusting.
“Promise.” Eddie says as he ruffles his hair.
He tries for a smile and maybe manages something as Christopher leans in, wrapping his arms around Eddie’s neck in a tight hug. Eddie holds on too, squeezing his eyes shut. He’s not one to believe in a higher power, but he’s begging anyone or anything that’s listening to keep Christopher safe.
“Eddie,” Shannon whispers, “Eddie we need to go.”
Eddie runs his hands over the St. Christopher necklace hanging from Chris’ neck, tucking the small, silver piece back into his nephew’s shirt for safe keeping.
“Okay,” Christopher says bravely, “I’m ready.”
It breaks Eddie’s fucking heart to watch his sweet nephew who is sunshine incarnate — all things good and bright and warm — march towards the slaughter.
He digs his knuckle into his eye and fights the hot prick of tears as he lets Shannon guide him to where the other sixteen year olds of District Twelve are packed together.
On the outskirts of where they stand is the rest of the District, huddled together to watch their children be sold off like slaves to satisfy the blood lust of a government that won the war years ago. The tension hangs in the air thickly and Eddie finds it hard to breathe as he fiddles with the buttons on his shirt.
The door to their state building opens; the mayor and all the important people filing out onto the stage which is bathed in shadows from the giant screens. He and Shannon both easily spot Josh — the new District Twelve escort — in a blindingly bright magenta suit with little birds cascading down the front.
“Poor bastard,” Shannon snorts in Eddie’s ear, “wonder what he did to be stuck with us.”
Eddie huffs out a small breath, the closest thing he can get to laughing right now as his stomach twists and turns in knots.
Josh is illuminated on the screens, eyes painted in dark, winged eyeliner, face unnaturally pale like he’s had powder painted on (he probably has now that Eddie really looks at it).
The fashion of the Capital has always been a mystery to Eddie. Even with all the money in the world he couldn’t imagine dressing in anything other than earth tones, soft fabrics, and things that keep you warm in the dead of winter.
Josh taps the microphone, the sound reverberating unpleasantly in the dead silence that’s fallen over them.
“Welcome, welcome,” Josh smiles brightly, Eddie wants to smack it right off his face, “and happy Hunger Games!”
If he’s expecting any sort of greeting or clap in return then he’s a bigger idiot than Eddie took him for.
Josh, clearly undeterred, rambles on about bullshit from the Capital and plays the annual video about the war that almost destroyed them. The footage from the still decimated and uninhabited District Thirteen plays, and something terrible itches beneath Eddie’s skin as the camera pans over the rubble. The explanation as to why the Hunger Games keeps the peace.
Out of the corner of his eye he can see Shannon has stiffened, jaw clenched tight as she watches the screens with rapt attention.
People should fight back. Start a revolution.
Eddie fights the acidic taste of bile as he looks away, the video coming to an end as Josh appears back on screen.
“Chills,” Josh laughs, “chills every time.”
The silence that follows is deafening and Josh quickly clears his throat, tugging at the collar of his suit, disrupting a gaudy jeweled bird from its place.
“Okay, well, no time like the present.” He tries for another smile, but for the first time since Josh has stepped out on stage it looks forced. “May the odds be ever in your favor.”
He steps up to the giant glass bowl that rests on a pillar center stage. Eddie inhales a shuddering breath as Josh plucks a small, perfectly folded white piece of paper.
Please don’t let it be me. Please don’t let it be me. Please don’t let it be me. Please don’t let it be me.
Eddie can feel blood trickling down his palms from where his nails have dug too deep in the soft parts of flesh, leaving crescent moon scars in its wake. Josh carefully unfolds the paper, holding it out as a beam of sunlight descends over him
“Christopher Diaz.”
For one sweet, blessed second relief floods through Eddie. It wasn’t his name. It wasn’t Eddie Diaz.
It wasn’t Eddie Diaz.
It was Christopher Diaz.
Christopher. His Christopher.
“No.” Eddie whispers as something like hot lava rips and tears through his veins.
“No,” he manages to choke out again as he stumbles towards the stage where Christopher is already being ushered forward.
“Chris!” He yells, every single part of himself pulling him to Chris.
He can’t let them take Christopher away. He can’t let the Capitol destroy the most pure hearted thing in the entire world. He can’t. He can’t. “CHRISTOPHER!”
He can faintly hear Shannon yelling his name, but he doesn't care. He doesn’t fucking care. Eddie will fight President fucking Gerrard if he has to. They can’t take Christopher.
His heart is beating so hard against his chest he thinks his sternum has cracked open, all his blood and organs spilling out for everyone to see as pushes into the middle path.
“CHRISTOPHER!”
Peacekeepers grab onto him, grip tight and unforgiving around his arms and they start to drag him away. He meets Christopher’s blue blue eyes and Eddie does the only thing he knows he can do to save the boy that’s such a huge piece of his heart.
“I volunteer!” He screams, a little deranged, but the peacekeepers let him go.
“I volunteer as tribute.” He says through gritted teeth, fist clenched at his side as he stares down the stage like he’s speaking to President Gerrard personally.
“A volunteer,” Josh says, nearly rendered speechless, “well, uh, this is a little out of turn, but yes, of course.”
Eddie immediately runs to Christopher, pulling the boy into his arms.
“It’s okay,” Eddie whispers into the mess of curls, “Chris it’s okay.”
“No!” Christopher says, breaking into a sob, “You can’t go!”
“I’ll be fine.” Eddie says knowing that whatever he is now won’t matter because he’ll likely be dead very very soon. “Christopher, I need you to find your mom, okay?”
“No!” Christopher shouts into Eddie’s chest, clinging to him like he never plans on letting go.
“Eddie, here,” Shannon says, voice hoarse and broken as he pulls Christopher away from him, “I’ve got him.”
Christopher continues to scream as Shannon carries him away and Eddie desperately wishes he had more time. More time to thank Shannon. More time to promise Christopher that everything will be okay even when he absolutely can not guarantee such a thing.
He feels hollowed out. Like someone took one of their hunting knives and carved out all his insides; ready to be served on a silver platter in a city miles and miles from home.
He blinks and suddenly he’s on stage, standing in front of his entire district. The sun is too hot, too bright and he can’t tell anyone apart. It’s just an endless sea of faces.
“That was very brave,” Josh says and Eddie is startled by how genuine he sounds. “What’s your name?”
“Eddie Diaz.” He hears himself say, his voice carrying over the hushed and horrified crowd.
“Well, Eddie,” Josh says, “was that your brother?”
“Nephew.” Eddie manages.
“How sweet,” Josh squeezes his shoulder and Eddie feels like he wants to crawl out of his fucking skin, “how about we give Eddie a nice big round of applause?”
Eddie watches as the crowd all kiss their three middle fingers before raising them to the sky. An old and rarely used gesture of their district, occasionally seen at funerals.
It means thanks, it means admiration, it means goodbye to someone you love. Eddie can’t stop the lone tear from falling out of the corner of his eye.
Everything slips out of focus as Josh moves to call out another name. His head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton wool. Another name. Another person Eddie is either going to have to out live or kill in order to survive.
Eddie’s hunted animals before, but he knows that doesn’t compare to this. To taking another life in front of the entire country as a pawn in a game he doesn’t want to play. He thinks it’s a miracle he doesn’t vomit on stage.
“Our second tribute from District Twelve is Evan Buckley.”
Eddie’s eyes snap up and he’s pretty fucking sure his heart stops beating all together. If he lets his eyes flutter close he can feel the patter of rain, harsh and ice cold, against his skin. The way the air saturates with the smell of burnt bread.
He can see the shape of a boy thrown out into the mud, hands cradling something precious in his hand. The way that bundle was placed in Eddie’s own, shaking palms as a voice whispered, I’m so sorry I can’t do more before he was gone.
But Eddie doesn’t let his eyes close. He watches as Evan Buckley — Buck, please just call me Buck — ascends the stairs to take his place next to Eddie.
Not you. Please. Anyone, but you.
Eddie is struck by how much Buck’s eyes remind him of Christopher. So wide and blue and beautiful. Eddie wants to scream. He wants to tear every building apart, brick by fucking brick, with his bare hands. He wants to burn down the Capitol. He wants to cry. He selfishly wants the person standing across from him to be anyone, anyone, except Buck or Christopher.
No, Eddie thinks as Josh tells them to shake hands, the odds are not in my favor today.
Buck’s hand is soft and warm and fits perfectly in Eddie’s. Buck looks at him with such devastation Eddie isn’t sure how they haven’t both shattered into little, tiny pieces. Because there are two things Eddie knows for certain now that he and Buck are in this together.
He will have to kill Buck to get back home.
Or Buck will have to kill him.
And that, Eddie thinks, will break him for good.
The train that is supposed to take them to the Capitol is the nicest thing Eddie’s ever stepped foot in.
Beautifully decorated wood cabinets and tables, soft, plush chairs and powder blue carpet. There are carts full of dainty glass stands with tiny cakes and pastries and embroidered gold designs that run along the walls in the shapes of flowers. And this is just the dining cart.
He bets there’s a big bed and a fancy shower waiting for him in whatever room he’s staying in. A room that’s probably bigger than his entire house where six people are crammed inside.
Josh is rambling about all the wonderful things and treats they will get from now until they enter the games. His enthusiasm is much more bright now and Eddie wonders if he’s just excited because his two tributes don’t look like they’ll die within the first thirty seconds of the games starting. Eddie isn’t really listening. It’s all just static white noise as Josh ushers him into one of the chairs.
He hasn’t looked at Buck since they shook hands. He doesn’t think he can look at Buck. Not now. Not knowing what fate awaits both of them in a matter of days. Everything around Eddie feels like it’s moving both too slowly and much too fast.
All he can think about is Christopher holding onto him tightly, crying into Eddie’s shirt as he says, You have to win.
“Have you met him?”
Eddie blinks a few times before he turns and finally looks at Buck. He almost half expected it to be someone else, wished it could be anyone else sitting next to him. But the curls and the baby blue eyes and the splash of pink are unmistakable.
Buck is the one who is here and sitting next to him. Buck is the one who will go into the arena with Eddie and won’t come out if Eddie wins and goes home.
“What?” Eddie asks.
“Bobby,” Buck gestures towards the door, “he’s our mentor. One of only two victors from our District and the only one still alive.”
Eddie blinks owlishly at Buck again.
“No,” he finally says, he’d wonder why Buck knows so much, but he’s pretty sure that he’s the only person in all of District Twelve to read every book that exists in their hometown. “Have you?”
“I leave him bread whenever we have too many leftovers,” Buck says a little sheepishly as he ducks his head. Eddie raises an eyebrow, something sour curling in his stomach.
Buck can’t have an advantage over him already. Buck must somehow read Eddie’s expression because his eyes widen innocently. “He’s never seen me drop it off and even if he did he’s probably too, you know, intoxicated to even recognize who I am.”
That settles something in Eddie. Buck’s not wrong and he doesn’t sound like he’s lying either, which Eddie knows he probably shouldn’t trust, but something in his gut tells him it’s okay.
A moment later, the door opens and they both look up to see someone stumble in. Eddie can tell his prep team tried their best with Bobby this morning before the Reaping. His hair has been cut and his face shaved, but it doesn’t hide the haunted look in his glazed over eyes as he tips towards the bar cart.
“Uh, Bobby,” Buck says tentatively, “maybe you shouldn’t have anymore to drink.”
Bobby ignores both of them as he clumsily removes a stopper from a glass bottle and sloppily fills a glass nearly to the brim. Eddie sees Buck get up to intervene, but as soon as Buck tries to reach for the glass, Bobby shoves him against the wall.
“Hey!” Eddie is on his feet before he can think, pulling Buck behind him as he pushes Bobby back into the cart.
“Well,” Bobby grins as he grabs his glass, raising it in a mock toast, “looks like we’ve got ourselves a pair of fighters this year.”
Eddie can feel Buck pulling himself to his fullest height, like he’s ready to back Eddie up at a moment's notice.
“Aren’t you supposed to give us advice?” He asks with a little more steel in his voice.
“You want some advice?” Bobby takes a sip from his glass, “Here’s some; stay alive.”
“Very funny,” Eddie grits out, “only not to us.”
Bobby looks both of them up and down, his movements slightly uncoordinated, but he takes in the way Eddie is still protectively standing in front of Buck, and the way Buck holds himself ready like they some sort of fucking team. Eddie feels like he should step back or maybe further away to show that they are not connected by anything other than the District they come from, but he remains rooted to the spot.
“Okay,” Bobby says as if he’s suddenly made up his mind about something. “I’ll make you a deal; you don’t interfere with my drinking, and after today I will try my best to remain sober enough to help you.” His eyes quickly dart between them and Eddie suddenly wonders if he’s even drunk at all. “But you have to do exactly as I say.”
Eddie turns to look at Buck even if he doesn’t know why. He doesn’t need Buck’s permission to do anything and he certainly doesn’t need Buck thinking that they’re in this together when only one of them gets to go home.
He made a promise to Christopher and he intends to keep it.
Buck nods and Eddie exhales, hoping it helps untangle whatever is twisting in his chest.
“Fine,” Eddie says as he turns back towards Bobby.
Bobby smiles. Then immediately vomits all over the carpet.
Eddie jumps back, falling into Buck, who catches him easily. Buck’s hands are just as warm as they were when Eddie shook one just a few hours ago. He quickly shakes himself from Buck’s hold and takes a small step away.
“Should we?” He gestures at Bobby now slumped against the wall, essentially passed out.
“You take one side and I’ll get the other.” Buck says, his face a little sad as he looks at Bobby.
Together they manage to get him to his room and dump him in the shower.
“Do we call for the Capitol people to clean him up?” Eddie asks at a loss for what to do.
“No,” Buck responds gently, “I don’t want them. I can do it.”
Eddie doesn’t like the Capitol people either, but he doesn’t understand why Buck insists on doing it himself.
Because he’s kind. Just like when he gave you the bread.
Eddie feels like his breath has been punched out of him as he steps away from Buck. He can’t let Buck slip past his walls and take root anywhere near Eddie’s heart. It’s too dangerous. Far more dangerous than if Buck was terrible.
“I’ll leave you to it,” Eddie says as he quickly turns and runs out the door.
He can’t let Buck in.
He won’t.
Eddie nervously runs his fingers over the St. Christopher necklace, heart in his throat and his stomach in knots. He’s been in the Capitol Remake Center for over two hours and he still hasn’t met his stylist yet. He’s been scrubbed, plucked, oiled, powdered and cleansed of everything that still clung to him from District Twelve.
Beauty is one of the Capitol’s biggest virtues. There isn’t a single person in the Capitol that hasn’t had their appearance permanently altered. Eddie doesn’t think people in the Capitol are very beautiful. They’re almost strange, otherworldly — like aliens.
When Eddie thinks of things that are beautiful he thinks about the primrose crowns Sophia makes and weaves through her hair. He thinks about the freckles that dot Shannon’s face. He thinks about Christopher’s smile. He thinks about Adrianna’s laugh and his mother’s hands when she makes her remedies. He also thinks about Buck.
His skin feels raw and exposed like he’s suddenly been stripped of an armor he didn’t know he already had. It makes him feel vulnerable (he has to bite his tongue when one of the prep team members says You almost look like a human being now!).
He wonders if the other tributes from the Districts like his own, the poor outliers that suffer the most, have been sitting on their own cold, metal table staring at the whitewashed walls, feeling stripped of their identity. He wonders if the tributes from Districts One and Two had to even be prepped at all.
The doors swish open and Eddie immediately sits up straighter, ignoring the rising taste of bile in the back of his throat, because he feels like he’s about to be studied like a bug beneath a magnifying glass as the sun reaches its peak in the sky.
His jaw slackens and eyes widen a little when a woman with beautiful, dark skin and kind, warm brown eyes walks in. She’s dressed in a pair of simple army green pants and a black high neck sweater.
Eddie’s used to seeing the stylist dyed, stenciled, and so surgically altered they look grotesque. But the only thing that Eddie can see that looks altered is the gold eyeliner that makes her look so eloquent that Eddie knows he can easily call her beautiful.
“Hello Eddie,” she says in a voice smooth like honey, “my name is Athena and I will be your stylist.”
“You’re new,” Eddie blurts out before he can stop himself.
For a moment he thinks he’s already fucked up his promise to Bobby to be nice and listen to everything his stylist says when Athena laughs, a deep and pleasing sound. Eddie exhales a breath he realizes he hasn’t been holding. Despite the rotation of tributes, many of the stylists stay the same. There’s been several Eddie’s recognized all his life.
“Yes,” she says with some amusement, “this is my first year in the Games.”
“Sorry,” Eddie laughs sheepishly, “so they gave you District Twelve.”
District Twelve. The least desirable District. It’s no wonder Bobby is more drunk than sober. Who in their right mind could make it through this year after year just to watch two kids who stand no chance get slaughtered?
“Actually,” Athena says, face more serious now, “I asked for District Twelve.”
That surprises Eddie, but Athena doesn’t give a further explanation as she motions for him to join her at the table laid out with food that Eddie believes could feed his entire family for a week.
All the hunting and trading in the world couldn’t get him anything even close to what the Capitol is so easily serving them. The meats and breads he could potentially work with, but when he takes a bite of the chocolate pudding he realizes, with a revolting turn in his stomach, that he wouldn’t even know where to begin with that. He doesn’t think he’s ever had chocolate before. Not even for his birthday.
He catches Athena’s eye and the knowing look there makes Eddie feel a little too seen. There’s a sadness that creeps in the corners, dulling the warm brown, like she understands exactly what Eddie is thinking. Like she agrees that the whole rotten lot of the Capitol is despicable.
“So, Eddie,” she says, “I want to talk to you about your costume for the opening ceremonies.” Eddie swallows around his last bite of pudding hating that he wished there was more, and nods to show that he’s listening. “Karen, my partner and Evan’s stylist—”
“Buck.” Eddie cuts in. Athena looks a little surprised and Eddie feels a blush creep across his cheeks as he clears his throat, a small smile spreading across Athena’s face, “Sorry, uh, he likes to go by Buck.”
“Buck,” she says and for some reason his name sounds safe in her mouth. “Karen and I were talking and we want to dress you and Buck in complementary outfits. As you know,” she takes a long, slow sip of wine, “it’s customary to reflect your District.”
Eddie groans internally. Coal. That’s what District Twelve is known for. The thought of being stuck in a coal miner's outfit like his father used to wear, slashed and bedazzled for the Capitol makes him feel absolutely sick. That or he and Buck will be naked covered in coal dust.
He can already feel the panic clawing its way up his spine at the thought of standing naked in front of the entire country. Isn’t it enough that they’re going to watch him fight for his life in just a few short days?
“You’re not afraid of fire, are you Eddie?” Athena asks with a grin.
A few hours later Eddie is dressed in what will either be the most show stopping costume of the evening or the deadliest. He’s covered up to his neck in a simple, black unitard that has the look of leather but the feel of silk and a matching black crystal halo crown.
Eddie looks in the mirror for a moment, blinking back at a boy who doesn’t really look like him, but also doesn’t look like a Capitol abomination either.
Athena places a hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze, “I want the audience to recognize you,” she explains, “Eddie Diaz: the boy on fire.”
Eddie gives her a half smile and lets her guide him out into the room where all the other tributes and chariots are being prepped for the opening ceremonies.
“Just remember,” Athena says with that smile that reminds him of his mother, “the flames aren’t real. It’s just a little something Karen and I came up with, she’s something of a scientific genius.”
“You make me blush,” Karen says as she escorts Buck over to where he and Athena are already waiting.
Despite the messy, confused feelings that stir in Eddie’s chest whenever he’s near Buck, he’s relieved to see him. He’s dressed identical to Eddie, curls slicked back, not looking entirely like himself either, but he is incredibly handsome. Eddie’s just glad Karen didn’t cover up his birthmark.
There’s a giddiness in the air, the hum of anticipation as stylists position their tributes on the chariots. Athena and Karen seem to be the only ones who have an air of calmness to them, and if Eddie wasn’t mistaken weariness too.
“Well,” Eddie whispers as he leans in towards Buck, “what do you think about the fire?”
Their stylist placed them incredibly close together, their shoulders practically bumping everytime either one of them so much as breathe. No other tributes are standing so close nor are they dressed identical.
“I’ll rip your costume off,” Buck says with a half grin tucked in the corner of his mouth, but there’s a nervous energy radiating off of him as he continuously shifts on his feet, “if you promise to rip off mine.”
“Deal.” Eddie says with a small huff of a laugh. “I know we told Bobby we would do whatever our stylist said, but I don’t think he realized we’d become human torches before we ever set foot in the arena.”
“Where is Bobby?” Buck looks around with a furrow in his eyebrow, “Isn’t he supposed to protect us from this sort of thing? Wonder if he knows how to use a firehose.”
“Ah,” Eddie says dryly, “with all that alcohol maybe it’s not advisable to have him around an open flame.”
Buck burst out laughing, bright and oh so beautiful, and Eddie can’t help, but join in too. Eddie takes a moment to look at Buck, the way his eyes crinkle and how he throws his head back, exposing the hollow line of his throat.
When his laughter dies off there’s suddenly a pair of blue blue eyes looking at him and Eddie has to swallow around his tongue that feels too big for his mouth.
The opening music begins, breaking whatever moment between them and they both shoot their gaze forward. In no time District Eleven is rolling out towards the roaring crowd and Athena and Karen appear with what looks like a very real lit torch.
“You two ready?” Karen asks, as if they have a choice in the matter.
Eddie just nods his head, and out of the corner of his eye he can see Buck blow out a long, slow breath. He lets his eyes flutter closed, expecting the worst, but is pleasantly surprised by the faint tickling sensation that fans out behind him. Karen lights their crowns and both of them exhale in relief as they stand back and admire their work.
“Remember,” Athena says as she gently places two fingers beneath Eddie’s chin, “heads high. They’re going to love you.”
The music gets louder as their chariot starts to move forward and Eddie thinks he can hear Athena shouting something.
“What is she saying?” Eddie asks as he turns to look at Buck.
For a moment his breath catches in his throat. Buck looks absolutely stunning, fanned in the fake flames. Like a sun or a comet entering the earth’s orbit. He knows he must look the same.
“I think,” Buck licks his lips, ducking his head shyly, “she wants us to hold hands.”
Eddie freezes, but doesn’t pull away when he feels Buck’s hand carefully slide into his own. He’s reminded of the reaping, when Josh told them to shake hands. How Buck’s hand, warm and soft fit perfectly in Eddie’s.
He catches Athena’s thumbs up before they enter the city. The crowd is loud and wild, chanting District Twelve as they roll down the street.
Eddie feels petrified.
There are so many eyes on him and the hot lick of panic climbs up his spine as the roars and cheers grow with each passing second. Buck gives his hand a gentle, but firm squeeze and Eddie clutches to him, for balance. Buck is a solid, steady presence that helps calm his panic and still his racing heart.
He finally looks up and nearly gasps when he catches their images on the giant television screens.
He and Buck look breathtaking—their faces illuminated by the flames in the deep twilight. He can hear his and Buck’s names being called adoringly by the crowd. He watches Buck’s jaw clench at the sound of his own name Evan, but keeps his head high like Athena instructed. Eddie gives Buck a squeeze in return and offers Buck a smile when he briefly looks over in Eddie’s direction.
When they get to the City Circle Eddie tries to loosen his grip, their laced fingers quickly losing circulation. Buck just tightens his hold, shooting Eddie a desperate look, “No, don’t let go of me, please.”
“Okay.” Eddie says, watching the flames flicker across the baby blue. He doesn’t think he could if he tried. Not when Buck asked him like that.
It almost seems cruel, Eddie thinks, to link him and Buck together like this. They’re not a team. And in just a few days they’re going to either have to kill each other or hope that someone else does the job for them. Only one gets to go home.
For some reason, that just makes Eddie hold on that much harder.
All twelve chariots come to a stop right into front of President Gerrard’s mansion, the window balconies packed with all the high ranking and prestigious people of the Capitol. President Gerrard is a tall, older man with greying hair and sharp, cunning eyes.
When he smiles, the only thing Eddie can think of is a snake luring in its prey. He shuffles a little closer to Buck as the music ends with a flourish.
President Gerrard opens with a speech and Eddie watches as the camera cuts to all of the tributes, but lingers on him and Buck longer than the others. The two twin flames burning in the night. Eddie can’t take his eyes off of them either.
The anthem plays and there’s one more shot of all of the tributes, him and Buck the last, long shot as they burn bright and unforgiving. The chariots head back towards the holding area where Athena, Karen, Bobby, and their prep team are waiting for them.
“Well,” Bobby smiles and it looks real, “it seems like you two made quite the impression out there.”
Eddie can see that every single tribute and stylist is looking in their direction. Most of them are dirty looks, especially from the Career Districts. Eddie easily recognizes the brutal looking boy from Two. He’s got his eyes locked on both him and Buck.
Buck must notice it too, because he takes a half a step forward and shields Eddie from the boy’s view. Eddie shoots him a grateful smile.
He realizes then that he and Buck are still holding hands. Eddie forces his stiff fingers open, chuckling as he rubs the back of his neck.
“Sorry,” He mumbles, as he flexes his fingers.
“Thanks for holding me up,” Buck says with a slight blush dusting his cheeks, “I was starting to get a little shaky.”
“I’m sure no one noticed,” Eddie shrugs, going for casual, “it didn’t show.”
“I’m sure the only thing anyone noticed was you.” Buck says, looking up at Eddie through his lashes. “You should wear flames more often. You looked, well,” he smiles bright as their flames and so fucking sweet, “you looked beautiful.”
Eddie feels a rush of warmth, his stomach fluttering before a little voice in the back of his head screams at him. Only one comes out it reminds him. He is probably planning on how to kill you. The friendlier he is the more deadly he is. Only one comes out.
Only one comes out.
The Training Center has a tower designated exclusively for the tributes and their team. Each District has their own floor, which means Eddie and Buck will be living on the twelfth floor with Bobby, Josh, and their stylist until the actual Games begin. The elevator is made of glass which allows them to see the Capitol in all its glory as they rise into the air.
Eddie is only slightly exasperated that Josh will be with them the rest of the time. He’s bright and full of energy, dressed in a blinding gold outfit, and apparently knows a lot of people in the Capitol. He lets both Buck and Eddie know he’s working hard to get them sponsors.
Eddie supposes it can’t hurt to have someone like Josh on their side, even if he cares about glory more than their safety.
“I can’t seal the sponsor deals for you,” Josh says with a slight frown, “only Bobby can do that, but never fear I will get him to the table!”
“Thank you, Josh.” Buck says politely, his smile a little more real.
Eddie just nods his head. Josh may annoy him, but he does admire the man’s determination.
Their apartment is huge with a large dining space, living room, and enough bedrooms for each of them. Eddie’s room feels like it’s bigger than his family’s entire house. He’s never quite seen a shower like this one either. There’s a panel with several options, instant hot water, and foam that smells like lavender and pine.
He has an entire closet already filled with more options than Eddie’s ever had in his life. He chooses something simple; plain green pants and a black henley that fits comfortably around his shoulders.
It’s the first time he’s felt like himself all night.
He dresses and joins everyone for dinner. Buck is also dressed down in grey pants and a burnt orange sweater that makes him look soft, especially now that his curls are freshly washed and free.
Eddie remembers how beautiful he looked in the flames, but he thinks he much prefers this version though.
Eddie is glad that Athena and Karen are joining them for their meals, because they seem to have a civilizing effect on Bobby and Josh who squabble any chance they get.
Bobby seems to be most particularly taken with Athena, actually smiling as he listens to her talk. They’re served dinner by young men and women dressed in red and white tunics.
They don’t say a single word, which Eddie finds a bit strange, but he doesn’t fully understand all the customs of the Capitol quite yet.
After dinner, they’re brought a huge cake which they light on fire, maybe as an ode to their outstanding performance during the parade.
Buck looks completely delighted, his face breaking out into a large grin as he watches the flames sizzle out. Eddie can’t stop his lips from tugging up in the corner as he takes a sip of champagne. He’s feeling a little fuzzy, but he likes the taste. He likes the way it fizzles and pops on his tongue.
He sets his empty glass down just as one of the girls holding the bottle comes to refill his glass.Eddie nearly knocks it over as he comes face to face with her.
“Do I know you?” He blurts out before he can stop himself.
He does. He knows he does. Her face looks so familiar. Round cheeks and dark eyes that suddenly widen in fear. Something twists unpleasantly in Eddie’s gut and he thinks he’s had too much to drink, but whoever this girl is he knows that she is connected to a very, very bad memory. She quickly shakes her head in denial and hurries away from the table.
It takes Eddie a second to realize everyone is looking at him, eyes like a hawk, save for Buck who seems to be deep in thought.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Eddie,” Josh finally scoffs. “How could you possibly know an Avox?”
“What’s an Avox?” Eddie asks nervously, wringing his hands in his lap.
“Someone who’s committed a crime,” Bobby answers carefully. “They cut their tongues out so they can’t speak. She’s probably some sort of traitor.” Eddie can just make out the subtle edge on Bobby’s voice, like a warning. “Not likely you’d know her.”
Eddie feels his heart pounding against his ribs. But he does know her. Hearing Bobby say the word traitor reminds Eddie exactly where she’s from, but he can’t even begin to explain how he knows her.
“No, I guess not…” Eddie mumbles wishing he never said anything at all.
“Marjan Marwani.” Buck says suddenly, snapping his fingers. Every turns their attention towards him, but Buck is smiling, his performative one Eddie thinks. “I thought she looked familiar too and then I realized Marjan!”
Marjan Marwani looks nothing like their server. She’s in the grade below him and Buck, wears a hijab, and has very kind eyes. She’s probably one of the more outspoken girls at their school, but she’s friendly and tells funny jokes. Eddie doesn’t waste Buck’s out, though and quickly jumps back in.
“Yes,” Eddie breathes, “that’s exactly right. It must be the hair.”
“And the eyes,” Buck adds.
That seems to settle everything and Eddie briefly closes his eyes, willing away the face of the Avox girl as they all slice into the cake.
After they eat they retire to the living room to rewatch the opening ceremonies. He and Buck look stunning and it’s no wonder they’ve made an impression on the Capitol. Everyone else is forgettable in comparison.
“Whose idea was it for them to hold hands?” Bobby asks.
“Athena’s.” Karen smiles as she nudges Athena with her elbow.
“The perfect touch of rebellion.” Bobby smiles as he gives her an appreciative nod.
Eddie raises an eyebrow. He’d hardly call holding Buck’s hand rebellious. Shannon would probably laugh at the thought alone, but the longer he watches the parade the more he thinks that Bobby is right. Everyone else looks stiff standing apart as if the Games were already in play and their fellow tributes did not exist.
He and Buck are presented as a team — as friends. Regardless of how Eddie feels about it, it certainly makes them stand out just as much as their costumes.
He and Buck are dismissed after the broadcast is over and once they’re both in the corridor alone Buck leans into him and whispers, “Marjan Marwani, imagine finding her lookalike here.”
Eddie stops and looks at Buck, still so soft and gentle in the dim light of the hallway. He finds that he does want to tell Buck about this girl. It’s not like it can cause any harm. Buck already lied to cover for him, the least Eddie can do is give him an explanation.
“Have you been on the roof yet?” Buck asks casually. “You can practically see the whole city, but the wind’s a bit loud.”
No one will overhear us talking.
“We can just go up?” Eddie asks, but his mouth is pulling into a small, crooked smile.
“Sure,” Buck says, “Athena showed me.”
He beacons Eddie to follow and Eddie allows himself to fall into Buck’s gravity. It’s almost easy, like something has already strung itself around Eddie’s ribs and tied itself to Buck.
Buck starts talking about some sort of shield that zaps you back if you get too close to the edge. Eddie snorts a laugh and makes a dry comment about the Capitol always worrying about our safety which makes Buck laugh brightly. Eddie likes the way it sounds.
The view is stunning and they’re illuminated in all the colors of the city bustling with life. There’s a small garden that Buck shows him and it’s here as Eddie runs his fingers over the primroses that he tells Buck the truth.
“Shannon and I were out hunting in the woods one day,” Eddie explains. “We were hidden behind a patch of trees and bushes, waiting for game when suddenly all the birds stopped singing except for one.”
“Like a warning.” Buck says and Eddie nods his head.
“That’s when we saw her, the Avox girl.” Eddie pulls at one of the petals, rubbing it between his thumb and pointer finger. “With a boy. They were dressed in tattered clothes and running as if their lives depended on it.”
Eddie can remember the moment perfectly. How he and Shannon were frozen in fear. He still wonders if he and Shannon could have helped them. Concealed them. Saved them. He and Shannon knew they were in trouble, but all they could do was watch.
“A hovercraft appeared out of nowhere,” Eddie continues, voice barely above a whisper. “A net dropped over the girl and hauled her up and the boy screamed her name — Mills!” A shiver runs down Eddie’s spine and he feels Buck’s hand warm and comforting on his shoulder.
“Then they launched a spear right through the boy’s chest, killing him instantly. The hovercraft was gone seconds later and the birds began to sing like nothing happened.”
“Eddie,” Buck says, “I’m so sorry, that’s awful.”
Eddie purses his lips as he tries not to cry. He should have done something more. It’s his fault Mills is here serving Eddie with her tongue cut out.
“Hey,” Buck says softly, “you’re shivering.” He rubs his hands over Eddie’s goosebumps to try and warm him. “It’s not your fault.”
Eddie laughs a little wetly.
“Were they from here?” Buck asks.
“I think so,” Eddie answers, “but District Twelve is the end of the line, right?”
Buck just shrugs. They both know what District Thirteen looks like. Ash and rubble and ruin. There’s no place to go after that.
“Why do you think they left the Capitol?” Eddie asks.
The Capitol and all its comforts and luxuries. Eddie can’t imagine why anyone would leave. It’s not like they’re starving here or fighting for their lives. The Capitol are always the winners. They always come out on top.
“I’d leave here,” Buck murmurs.
Eddie tilts his head and catches Buck’s eyes who just blushes and ducks his chin to his chest to avoid Eddie’s gaze. Maybe there really is more to Buck than the smiling boy who bakes bread and is so very kind.
“We should get back inside.” Buck says.
Eddie agrees and they both head back inside together. Buck walks him to his door and wishes him a goodnight, a little sweet and shy as he says, night Eds. Eddie feels a flutter of something in chest, almost like butterflies.
They die almost immediately when he accidentally bumps into Mills. He stammers out an apology, but she dutifully avoids his gaze. He wants to say more. Tell her that he’s sorry for leaving her to die. That he should have helped her, but he doesn’t think it would do any good.
She quickly dismisses herself and Eddie thinks that maybe she doesn’t even remember him at all.
But, of course she does. How can you forget the face of the person who was your last hope? He knows he’ll never forget the way Buck looked that day in the rain.
He wonders if Mills will enjoy watching him die.
Eddie doesn’t sleep well.
He dreams about that Avox girl — Mills. She reaches for him, eyes blown wide with fear, but when she opens her mouth to scream he’s only met with silence.
The woods are silent. The birds and rabbits and squirrels. The wind that rustles through the trees.
There’s nothing save for his own, traitorous beating heart. He shrinks away from Mills, desperately needing to quiet the pounding in his chest before they find him. The look of betrayal that crosses Mills face feels like a knife to the gut and before Eddie can change his mind a spear punches clean through her skull, the brutal boy from District Two leering down over the body.
Eddie shoots up in bed, clawing at his chest.
He immediately wants to find Buck. Tell him about his nightmare. As much as he hates to admit it, Buck’s presence comforts him in a way that nothing else ever has.
Eddie shakes his head. No, he can’t do that. He can’t seek Buck for reassurance or comfort or anything when Eddie knows what awaits them in just a few days. It doesn’t matter that Buck covered for him last night or that they shared a moment together on the roof. It doesn’t mean anything.
It can’t mean anything.
Buck is just trying to survive. To win. To go back home just like everyone else.
Eddie ignores the quiet, gentle pull in his chest that leads him to Buck’s door and moves to get ready for the morning. They’re supposed to be in the training center for the next three days and Eddie breathes a sigh of relief in seeing the outfit laid out for him.
It’s simple, breathable, and comfortable. Nothing like the outfits he’s been forced into when paraded around the Capitol. He almost feels like himself as he carefully rolls the sleeves to his liking.
He tries not to let his face twist into something unpleasant when he sees Buck already at the table dressed almost identical.
Eddie lets his eyes trail over the curve of Buck’s jaw and the slope of his nose. He must be freshly showered as his curls pool over his forehead softly, free of the product his stylist seems to think he needs at all times.
Eddie likes them better this way and his fingers twitch at his side like he suddenly wants to run them through Buck’s hair. He looks away before those baby blue eyes can find him and pierce him with a knowing look like he sees right through Eddie.
Maybe he does.
Maybe that makes him the most dangerous person in the arena. Someone who can take down Eddie Diaz piece by piece without ever laying a hand on him.
It takes all of Eddie’s will power to pull out the seat next to Buck.
Buck throws him a small, private smile, one Eddie’s only ever seen used on him. He’s watched Buck laugh in the school yard. The painted, charming thing he puts on for the audiences in the Capitol. He’s seen how Buck sometimes gives Bobby a half grin and Josh something close to polite and thoughtful. The most genuine smiles come when he mentions something about his sister, Maddie, but even then it’s far off and a little sad.
No, this smile makes Buck’s eyes crinkle in the corner and Eddie feels like he’s stepped into a patch of sunlight, warm rays kissing his skin, blood turning to liquid gold in his veins.
Eddie constantly has to remind himself it isn’t real.
It’s all part of the game.
It’s all part of the game.
Sometimes, he wishes it wasn’t.
“Okay,” Bobby says, sounding incredibly sober (and incredibly grouchy), “you two need to decide now if you want to be coached separately.”
Eddie’s eyes flicker to Buck, watching the boy’s brow furrow as he sets down his fork and narrows his eyes in Bobby’s direction.
“Why would we be coached separately?” Eddie asks as he reaches for a roll.
“If you have any skills you want to keep secret,” Bobby states matter-of-factly.
“I don’t have any secret skills,” Buck says, voice deflated, “and I already know what Eddie is capable of,” he tilts his head in Eddie’s direction, “I’ve had plenty of his squirrels.”
Eddie blinks over at Buck in surprise. He’s always assumed Buck would eat the better meat from the butcher like chicken or beef. He knows their family isn’t incredibly well off, no one in District Twelve really is, but Margaret Buckley hardly seems like the type of person who would stoop low enough to eat squirrels caught by a boy she turned her nose down on.
“Together is fine,” Eddie says after a moment, eyes darting down to his plate to keep himself from looking at Buck.
He thinks he catches some sort of look Bobby throws between them, but the older man clears his throat and Eddie tells himself that his sleep deprived brain is making him see things that aren’t there.
“Okay,” Bobby nods, hands twitching towards the container of wine before he thinks better of it, “tell me what you can do.”
Buck barks a self-deprecating laugh as he says, “Well, I can’t do anything, unless you count baking bread.”
“Sorry,” Bobby tries to give him a smile, but it’s more of a grimace, “I don’t count that.”
He turns his gaze in Eddie’s direction, “It sounds like you can hunt though.” He raises an eyebrow and Eddie squirms in his seat as Bobby asks, “Are you good?”
Eddie tries not to rip apart the roll in his hand as he mulls Bobby’s question over in his mind. He’s a better shot than Shannon is for sure, but she’s usually the one that makes all of their snares and traps. He can imagine her now, sitting across from Bobby, telling him exactly what she told Eddie that day of the reaping when she came to say goodbye.
Eddie is the best hunter I know. He knows how to kill.
Eddie swallows the sharp, acid taste of bile. “I’m all right,” he settles on, tearing a piece of bread and stuffing it in his mouth to try and calm his twisting stomach.
“Eddie’s amazing,” Buck cuts in earnestly, leaning forward in his chair, face alive and animated as he makes gestures with his hands. Eddie’s head snaps in Buck’s direction, cheeks burning so hot he wonders if Karen has snuck in and set him a flame again. “He hits the squirrels and rabbits right through the eye. He can even kill deer.”
Bobby’s eyebrows raise a little higher and Eddie has to clench his jaw from saying something mean.
He doesn’t understand what Buck is doing. He can count on one hand all the interactions they’ve ever had. They’ve hardly spoken any words to each other outside that one time in the school library. It was months after the bread incident. Eddie found himself wandering the sparse books shelves, hoping to find something on edible plants and herbs he could scavenge to help make their meals more fulfilling.
That day, he was hardly paying attention when he ran straight into Buck. Buck had ducked his head, stuttering out an apology as he looked up at Eddie through long lashes, a faint blush spreading across his cheeks.
Eddie thought about thanking Buck. He thought about trying to put into words how Buck’s one small act of kindness saved Eddie’s life. The last thing Eddie needed was to owe Buck something. Not when he hardly had anything to give.
But the words never made it past the locked box buried deep within the marrow of his bones. Maybe it was for the better. He wasn’t even sure if Buck remembered it anyway.
Instead, he just gave Buck a smile and told him not to worry about it. He let Buck help him sift through the poor reading selection, the boy rambling about edible wildflowers and mushrooms that he sometimes sees growing along the line of their fence.
He found the book that told him all those things, handing it to Eddie with a grin that reminded Eddie of the sunrise. Eddie hardly spoke a word, but he didn’t feel like he needed to, not with Buck’s voice, low and soft, words coming out in almost a rush like he’s worried that he’ll run out of time or someone will tell him to stop.
If it were up to Eddie he could have listened to Buck talk for hours as something warm had settled in his chest, easing the perpetual ache that Eddie thinks has been there all his life.
But Eddie knew neither he nor Buck could stay in the moment forever, and soon enough Buck was running out the door, muttering something about getting in trouble for being late to help at the bakery.
But he did pause at the door to give Eddie one last look. Eddie hadn’t known what to do with it. It felt too big, too heavy for Eddie to carry so he dropped his gaze, and instead looked down at the book. The worn and faded field guide for edible plants. The exact thing Eddie had been searching for.
For some reason it felt like his debt to Buck was only tipping further and further in Buck’s direction.
He can still hear Buck rambling on about how good of a shot Eddie is and suddenly Eddie can’t stand to listen to it anymore.
“What are you doing?” Eddie hisses, glaring in Buck’s direction.
“What are you doing?” Buck fires back, gaze just as heated. “Bobby’s trying to help you and you just say you’re all right? Don’t underestimate yourself.”
Eddie grinds his teeth together, something hot and sharp poking at his chest.
“What about you?” He’s tired of hearing Buck talk down about himself when he knows exactly what the boy is capable of. He turns towards Bobby, “Buck is strong. I’ve seen him lift a hundred pound sack of flour at the market.”
Buck rolls his eyes which makes Eddie’s blood boil. “Yeah,” Buck says as he skewers a potato with his fork, “because there will be big sacks of flour I can throw at the other tributes in the arena. You know it’s not the same as being able to shoot an arrow or throw a spear.”
This only infuriates Eddie even more. “Buck wrestles,” Eddie adds, ignoring the indulgent scoff he hears from Buck, “came in first place too.”
“Big deal,” Buck argues, but his face has turned a little red and Eddie swears he throws him a look, like he’s momentarily surprised that Eddie has noticed him at all outside of their limited meetings, “not like you can wrestle someone to death.”
“There’s always hand-to-hand combat, Buck! You just need to come away with a knife and you’ll be okay!” Eddie practically yells. He’s keenly aware that Bobby is watching them both like a hawk. “You’re bigger than I am, so the chances of you surviving that are better than mine.”
“They’re not!” Buck drops his silverware, pushing back in his chair. “Eddie, you’re not dying in that arena.”
He sounds so sure and Eddie feels like he has fucking whiplash. He’s so angry at Buck for not wanting to fight, for thinking that he doesn’t stand a chance, but there’s something else there.
The conviction in Buck’s voice makes that something flutter in the vacant parts of his chest — the parts that have been carved out all of Eddie's life leaving him hollow and bare — and it dangerously feels like hope.
“You know what my mother said to me when she came to say good-bye?” Buck asks, voice so full of sorrow that it makes Eddie ache.
“She said maybe District Twelve will finally have a winner this year,” he laughs but it’s wrong; twisted and warp and it must hurt on the way out. “I know she wasn’t talking about me.”
“She was,” Eddie says a little desperately, because the truth of those words feel like an immovable weight on his chest.
“She said,” Buck continues like Eddie hadn’t spoken at all, “He’s a survivor that one. And she was right,” Buck says, looking at Eddie now, the pain in his eyes so real and visceral Eddie finds it hard to breathe, “you are a survivor.”
Eddie swallows the lump in his throat because he knows Buck isn’t lying about this. He’s always known Margaret Buckley has never been the warmest of people, especially towards Buck, after their first son — Daniel — died from sickness and their daughter Maddie was married off to a winning tribute from District Four, but for her to tell her own son that she doesn’t think he’ll be coming home…
It’s a lot. Too much.
For some unfathomable reason he can’t stand the thought of Buck not thinking he’s enough or that he doesn’t deserve to come home.
“But only because someone helped me,” he says, so quietly he’s not sure Buck hears him at all.
Buck’s eyes flicker down to the bread in Eddie’s hand and Eddie knows, without a doubt now, that Buck remembers that day in the rain.
He takes a shuddering breath and opens his mouth like he wants to say something, snaps it shut, and shakes his head. “People will help you in the arena,” Buck finally says, trying to act casual as he shrugs, but missing by a mile, “they’ll be tripping over themselves to sponsor you.”
“No more than you,” Eddie snaps, the anger returning full force.
He watches Buck roll his eyes as he turns towards Bobby, something complicated furrowing in the lines of his face, “He has no idea the effect he can have on people.”
Eddie starts to argue, because Buck must clearly be insulting him. He has no idea the effect he can have on people.
He doesn’t understand what that means. No one has ever helped him when he and his family were starving back in District Twelve. No on, save for Buck.
Eddie learned to hunt and trade and gather food to take care of his family all on his own. Maybe Buck means that people pity Eddie or maybe he means it as a compliment, but as far as Eddie’s concerned he’s only ever been told how quiet and sullen he is. Shannon is his only friend outside of the relationship he has with his sisters and Chris.
“Well then,” Bobby cuts in placatingly, but he’s still looking between both of them like he’s figured out something Eddie hasn’t yet, “This is a good start. Eddie,” he says, directing his knowing gaze at him “There’s no guarantee that there will be a bow in the arena, so show the Gamemakers what you can do, but stay clear of archery.”
Eddie nods in acknowledgement, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans back in his chair.
“And Buck,” Bobby says, face a little softer now, “never discount physical strength in the arena, sometimes it’s the only thing that will tip the scale in your favor.”
Buck just nods, eyes on the table as he runs his fingers over a groove in the wood.
Bobby instructs them to save their skills for their private session and to move around the training room learning new things.
“Also,” Bobby says as he finally gives in, grabbing the wine and filling his glass, “You two will be by each other’s side every minute you are in public, got it?”
Both him and Buck look at each other a little warily, but Bobby just says a little bit firmer, “I mean it. You agreed to listen to me no matter what. So you will appear aimable together for everyone to see, got it?”
“Fine.” Eddie says a little too harshly as Buck tiredly replies, “Okay.”
They head off to get ready and Eddie makes sure that Buck can hear the way he slams his bedroom door shut. He feels confused and angry and a million over little things that prick at his skin like the cold bite of wind in the winter. He’s mostly mad at Bobby, a good bit at Buck, but he’s also upset with himself. Apparently, Buck isn’t the only one paying attention.
Eddie’s also been keeping track of the boy with the bread.
Three days of training. Three days of being locked in a room with all the other tributes assessing their competition and cramming as much survival information in as possible.
Eddie and Buck do as Bobby says, sticking together and avoiding showing off their true strengths to the other tributes. Eddie doesn’t miss the way the Careers go straight for the weapons, clearly trying to intimidate everyone.
He quickly spots the boy from District Two. The one who stared at him and Buck after the parade. He’s looking at them now; bright eyes eerily dark as he sways in the shadows, a predatory smirk crawling across his face.
“Let’s pick a station,” Buck murmurs, standing between Eddie and the boy, his broad shoulders blocking him out perfectly.
Eddie swallows and nods towards the knots, “Want to learn how to make some snares and traps?”
Buck smiles, small, but genuine. “Sure thing.”
They move as a unit, falling into synchronized steps as they head across the room to the survival skills area. The person in charge of the station shows them a few tips and tricks before moving along to help another tribute who wanders over.
“Shannon is way better at setting traps,” Eddie says without thinking as he loops the rope through to make a knot. It takes him a second to realize that he’s mentioned Shannon at all as panic flares beneath the tips of his fingers.
“Sounds like you two make a good team,” Buck says casually, but there’s something there that prickles the back of Eddie’s neck.
He doesn’t know what it is. Jealousy is the first thing that flutters across his mind, but he quickly pushes that aside. Why would Buck be jealous of Shannon?
“I guess it’s just nice not being alone,” Eddie admits honestly.
He doesn’t know what it is about Buck, but for some reason things just keep spilling out. Like some part of Eddie wants Buck to know him. He doesn’t get it. They’re not friends and soon they’ll be pitted against each other to survive.
Why should Buck know anything about him, well, more than he’s already observed at least? It won’t matter if one or both of them are dead.
Maybe that’s it. Maybe because it won’t matter Eddie wants to share one last part of himself with someone that has as much stake as he does. It’s not like Buck can really use this information against Eddie. He already knows Eddie is more than capable of surviving if he gets his hands on a bow.
“Yeah,” Buck says softly, sadly, “I bet it is.”
For a moment Eddie remembers that Buck doesn’t really have anyone in his corner. That he’s already said his parents don’t really care and Maddie’s been gone for years.
Sure, he interacts with people at school, maybe even has some acquaintances, but he doesn’t have what Eddie has. He doesn’t have sisters that are in the bedroom next to his, Christopher with his sunshine grin, his abuela and her endless stories, Shannon who’s been a constant in Eddie’s life for years now. For some, reason that makes Eddie really fucking sad. He doesn't like the idea of Buck being lonely.
“Should we move on to something else?” Buck asks, slipping his performance smile back on, the one Eddie can somehow see right through.
“Sure.” Eddie shrugs, trying to push away the ache he feels for Buck.
They move onto camouflage and Eddie can’t stop his smile as he watches Buck brighten up as he swirls different colors together, weaving vines and leaves until part of his arm blends in so well with the natural background Eddie has to blink a few times to find it.
“Wow.” Eddie says as Buck gives him a pleased smile in return, ducking his head to his chest as he blushes.
“I do the cakes in the bakery.” Buck says. “It’s about the only thing my parents don’t complain about.”
“You’re really good.” Eddie says as he reaches out to trace his finger over a trail of brown and green painted to look like bark on a tree.
Buck just watches him, lashes fluttering over his baby blue eyes, his breath hitching in his throat. Eddie looks up at him and for a moment, his traitorous heart skips a beat.
They only have seconds to look at each other as the sound of a spear piercing through a manikin makes both of their heads snap in the same direction. The boy from Two (Jonah is his name, Buck whispered at some point during his painting session) is grinning at them, teeth on full display.
“Can we do something else?” Eddie asks as he shifts on his feet.
He hates that all of the Careers are looking at them. Surely he and Buck don’t pose as much of a threat now that they’re not on fire.
“Of course,” Buck nods as he begins to clean his arm, “I don’t think I know how to start a fire.”
They go on like that for the next three days. They’re served breakfast and lunch in the training room and at dinner time Bobby and Josh hound them about every minute of the day.
Bobby constantly reminds them to stick together and Eddie wants to scream because it seems like the only time he has to himself is when he’s unconscious and even then his dreams aren’t very kind.
He thought keeping the friendly act up with Buck would be hard, especially after their fight on that first day, but Buck is easy to talk to. They don’t talk about home anymore, the memories too fresh and a little painful and they strictly avoid the impending future.
Buck usually goes off into tangents about things he’s read from books or talks about the different kinds of breads they’re served at meals. Eddie finds it oddly fascinating and a nice distraction from everything going on around them. He likes listening to Buck talk. It reminds him of their moment in the library.
Besides the pool of tributes the other thing Eddie’s noticed is the crowd of Gamemakers gathering in the balcony area right above the training center. They’re usually eating or drinking or chatting, casually glancing down every now and then.
He’s caught the Head Gamemaker, Claudette, eyeing him a few times. Her thick, curly hair framing her dark face, lips stained a deep red, and the most intricate gold designs around her eyes.
As far as the Capitol goes she looks relatively tame, but her gaze is cunning and her smile almost blinding when she laughs. He’s terrified of what goes on in her head. He knows he'll soon be at her mercy.
He’s tempted to take one of the arrows and shoot it right through her heart.
He doesn’t. He just curls his hands into fist and lets Buck’s low voice soothe him as he babbles about constellations and the moons of other planets.
At the end of the three days they’re supposed to be evaluated individually. Bobby tells them this is the time to show off their real skills. They’re called into the training room one by one which means he and Buck will be last. A nervous energy runs through the tributes, even the Careers don’t look as at ease as silence falls over them.
“Buck,” Eddie whispers, “tell me a story or a fact or anything.”
Buck looks a little surprised by the request, but gives Eddie a small quip of a smile before he launches into oddly specific detail about how different types of flours and milk affect the way cakes are baked. Their numbers thin and Eddie nearly jumps in his seat when he hears his name called.
“Edmundo Diaz, District Twelve.”
Before he can get up on shaking legs he feels something big and warm slide into his own hand. He looks down to see that Buck is giving it a gentle squeeze. It feels nice. Just like it did when they were on fire riding around the Capitol together.
Eddie swallows hard as he looks up at Buck. He shouldn’t find comfort in this. Not when Buck is going to be using these same hands to fight to go home.
Only one comes out.
“Shoot straight, okay Eds?” Buck says.
“Yeah,” Eddie nods his head, “and don’t forget to show them your strength.”
“I won’t.” Buck smiles.
Eddie trails his eyes over Buck for a moment longer, like he somehow needs to memorize every slope and curve and color of his face. He shakes off that gnawing feeling in his chest that’s only seemed to grow over the past few days when he’s around Buck. The pull, pull, pull that begs him to turn around and stay with Buck for as long as he can.
Buck taps his two fingers under his chin once Eddie pulls out of his grasp and he remembers that Athena had done that gesture before they were marched out for all of Panem to see.
Head high.
Eddie sets his shoulders back and heads towards the room. He can feel Buck’s lingering gaze and it somehow makes him braver. All of it instantly fades away as soon as he steps inside.
The Gamemakers have been here too long. Too much wine and the desire to go home is strong and Eddie can see that no one is even paying attention to him. He doesn’t let his posture drop as he heads towards the set of arrows and a nice, new bow.
“Eddie Diaz,” He calls up, determined for them to see him, “District Twelve.”
A hush falls over the Gamemakers as they turn their attention on him. They all look a mix between amused and bored. Eddie grits his teeth and turns away to take a stance. The bow feels wrong and stiff in his hands, different from the one he uses at home. He doesn't have much of a choice so he aims and shoots.
The arrow misses its mark by a few inches.
The Gamemakers immediately fall back into conversation, too loud laughter as Eddie lowers the bow. He bites the inside of his cheek so hard he can taste blood.
Do it again.
It’s Buck’s voice, soft and encouraging that echoes in his head. Eddie takes a deep breath and grabs another arrow. This time it sinks right through the manikin’s heart.
Eddie grins as he looks at it, but any elation he felt at the perfect shot is gone when he hears someone yell, Finally the pig is here!
He turns to look up and is flooded with righteous fury. He’s being upstaged by a dead fucking pig, when his life on the line?
Shoot straight, Eds.
Eddie grabs the closest arrow, his movements fluid and graceful, no thought as he follows his instincts. He draws one, steady breath, eyes locking on his target and releases.
The arrow skewers the apple in the pig's mouth a second later, pinning it to the wall.
The silence that follows is deafening and Eddie stands, his chest heaving as they all slowly turn to look at him.
Eddie holds out his arms, bowing as he says, “Thank you for your consideration.” And then he puts the bow back and walks out of the room without being dismissed.
It’s not until he’s in the elevator, on his way back up to their apartment that Eddie realizes exactly what he’s done. All of the anger and fight drains out of him as his back hits the glass wall.
“Fuck.”
He doesn’t think they’ll kill him. That’s what the games are for. If anything they can just blow him sky high as soon as he steps off the platform. Not like he stood a chance anyway. He’s seen the other tributes. The Careers. They’re killing machines and the chances of Eddie getting a bow and arrow are slim to none, especially after that performance. He vaguely wonders if it will at least make them pay attention to Buck when it hits him
Buck.
He and Buck have been so closely tied the last few days. Will the Gamemakers take it out on him after Eddie is gone? What about Eddie’s family? Will they go after them too?
He can’t even begin to imagine the horrible, horrible things the Capitol can do to people who push back. The air in the elevator feels too thin and Eddie can’t remember how to breathe. He clutches at his chest, fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt.
Luckily, no one is waiting for him when he gets off the elevator. He can hear Bobby and Josh talking somewhere near the dining room, but he stumbles into the hallway, wheezing as he holds onto the wall for support.
He makes it into a bedroom and collapses on the set of evergreen silk sheets. He curls up into a ball, staving off the panic attack as he tries not to cry. The pillow smells like juniper and cedar, and something sweet like spun sugar that finally fills Eddie’s lungs with the air he desperately needed.
It’s not until he’s almost completely calmed down, eyes drooping from exhaustion that he realizes he’s in Buck’s room.
He falls asleep between one blink and the next.
A knock on the door wakes him a few hours later.
“Hey, Eddie,” Buck’s voice is muffled and quiet behind the door, “Bobby says it’s time to watch the scoring.”
Eddie rubs at his face, knowing it must look swollen and splotchy and awful. “Okay,” he says loud enough for Buck to hear, “be out in a minute.”
He hadn’t meant to sleep so long or to keep Buck from coming into his own room, but the exhaustion and stress and fear and the come down from the panic attack took so much out of Eddie there wasn’t much he could do to stop it.
He attempts to wash his face and finds a set of clean, comfortable clothes on the chair next to the dresser set out for him. He quickly changes, happy to be out of the training uniform and is surprised to see Buck waiting for him in the hallway.
“You okay?” Buck asks softly.
“I’m fine,” Eddie lies, which causes Buck to raise a disbelieving eyebrow.
Buck doesn’t push. Instead he motions to the living room and lets Eddie take the lead. Eddie lets out a long breath and raises his chin as he steps out where everyone is waiting. He somehow feels worse seeing that Athena and Karen are there as well. Just two more people he’s let down.
“Okay,” Bobby says not unkindly, “how bad were you?”
Buck saves Eddie from having to answer first as he immediately jumps in and says, “I don’t think it mattered, they weren’t really paying attention to me.” Eddie frowns as he turns towards Buck who just shrugs and adds, “I just threw heavy shit around until they told me I could go.”
Eddie’s mouth curls up in the corner and Buck matches it. At least he wasn’t the only one provoked.
“I shot an arrow at the Gamemakers,” Eddie says before Bobby can ask.
“You what?” Josh asks, horrified.
Everyone else looks in complete shock, save for Buck who actually looks like he’s trying not to laugh.
“They were ignoring me,” Eddie says defensively, “so I shot an arrow through the apple in the pig's mouth that sat on their dinner table.”
“What did they say?” Athena asks carefully, her hand on his shoulder a comforting and much needed weight.
“I sort of walked out after that,” Eddie replies sheepishly. He can see Buck out of the corner of his eye stifling his laugh into his elbow. It probably isn’t funny at all, but Buck’s the only other person who will feel the effects in the arena, so maybe he has a right to laugh at just how bad Eddie fucked up.
“They won’t hurt my family, will they?” He asks desperately, looking at Bobby.
“Don’t think so,” Bobby answers honestly as he lays his hand on Eddie’s other shoulder, “then they’d have to reveal what happened in the Training Center and that’s a secret they don’t intend to share.” Bobby gives him a wry smile, “If anything they’ll probably just give you and probably Buck hell in the arena.”
“That’s nothing new,” Buck interjects and they can hear Josh muttering something about manners.
Eddie takes his first deep breath in what feels like hours. His family is safe. They won’t be hurt because of Eddie’s mistake. He feels a pang of guilt for knowing he somehow dragged Buck down with him, but Buck just gives him one of his Eddie smiles as they all take a seat on the couch.
“I wish I could have seen their faces,” Bobby says.
“I’ll probably get an awful score.” Eddie mumbles.
“Scores only matter if you're good,” Karen says wisely, “and some people use getting a low score as a strategy to fool other tributes.”
“Can’t wait to see my four,” Buck winks at Eddie, “I’m sure that’s exactly how it will be interrupted.”
Eddie laughs, a light thing that bubbles out of him without his permission. Buck does his shy little head duck and turns his attention to the television. Eddie doesn’t miss the way Bobby and Athena share a glance before Taylor Kelly, the well known television personality that’s hosted the games the past five years, pops up on their screen.
They’re not surprised to see the Career’s pull high numbers. Nines and tens. Most tributes average around a five. Twelve is the highest. Eddie is pleasantly surprised to see that Denny gets a seven. He and Buck share a small, private smile at that.
“Evan Buckley, from District Twelve with a score of eight.”
Eddie watches Buck collapse back into the couch with a huff of a laugh. Karen squeezes his bicep as Bobby and Josh congratulate him.
“I guess it’s better than a four,” Buck says a little self-deprecatingly.
Eddie hates when he talks like that, but he’s immediately distracted when his own face fills the screen.
“And finally, from District Twelve, Edmundo Diaz with a score of eleven.”
Eddie feels his jaw drop as he watches the number appear next to his picture. Eleven. Eleven. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen anyone get an eleven before. He feels hands patting him and words of congratulations, but he can’t hear them. All he can hear is the sound of blood roaring in his ears. Eleven.
“How?” He finally asks as he turns to Bobby.
“They like a good show,” Bobby says as he sips from his wine, “and they need players who can give them heat.”
“To Eddie Diaz,” Athena raises her glass, a warm smile gracing her beautiful face, “the boy on fire.”
They all cheer and Eddie turns and catches Buck looking at him. Eddie can see the flames flickering in those blue blue eyes, like Buck is really seeing Eddie for the first time.
Like he’s figured something out and came to a conclusion he was unsure of before.
It’s gone in an instant and the champagne Eddie nearly downed a full glass of his making his head fuzzy. He can’t sort out what the look meant or what’s going on in Buck’s head.
“I told you to shoot straight, Eds,” Buck says with a smile that feels more performance than real, “I knew you could do it.”
The smile turns a little less forced and a warmth that’s not from the booze slides down Eddie’s spine.
“Thanks,” he says a little gruffly. “You did a good job too.”
Buck just shrugs before he gives Eddie’s arm a gentle squeeze and excuses himself to bed. Eddie feels that pull pull pull to follow Buck, but he stays where he is.
He can still smell the faint scent of juniper and cedar when he falls asleep in his bed that night.
“Buck wants to be coached alone,” Bobby tells him with a sad smile the next morning.
“What?” Eddie asks, his heart dropping right out of his body and sailing to the ground where it smashes into pieces against the concrete.
Bobby repeats the words, but Eddie refuses to listen. The betrayal is like a knife to the gut. Deep and twisted and like it will be the end of him. He tries to tell himself that this will be good for them. That they can finally stop pretending.
Only one can go home.
Eddie can still feel the pull he knows will lead him straight to Buck.
“Now Eddie,” Taylor’s voice drops, her eyes sparkling with something that makes Eddie squirm uncomfortably in his seat, “I want to go back to the moment where you volunteered at the reaping, can you tell us about that?”
No, Eddie thinks as he looks away from Taylor, turning his gaze towards the bright lights, the Capitol audience, and all the cameras pointed in his direction broadcasting this moment to the entire country.
No, he shakes his head, pressing his lips together as he feels the stupid hot prick of tears, not to all of you.
He thinks about following the gentle tug in his chest, the one he knows will pull him towards Buck, sitting just behind where they are, waiting for his turn to interview. He knows he shouldn’t. He can’t be weak. Not now. Not when everyone is watching him, assessing him, wondering if this is the boy that has what it takes to finally give District Twelve another victor.
He quickly finds Athena instead, her presence strong and warm, dark eyes filled with sorrow as they lock onto each other's gaze.
If he can’t tell Buck then maybe he can tell Athena.
“His name is Christopher,” Eddie finally manages, voice rough. He clears his throat and feels something like bravery bloom in his chest as he watches Athena’s lips curve up in the corner, “He’s my nephew and he’s just twelve years old. I love him more than anything.”
The silence is almost deafening and Eddie wonders how the sound of his screams would echo in this godforsaken city.
“And what did he say to you after the reaping?” Taylor prompts as she leans in, her slender fingers highlighted with nails painted to look like flickering flames rest against his knee.
“He asked me to try really hard to win,” Eddie says, keeping himself tall and strong despite the terrible, gnawing feeling that’s eating away at his insides, threatening to rip him apart.
He knows they’re hanging on his every word and he has to force himself to look at Taylor as she asks, “And what did you tell him?”
There’s an icy chill that slides down Eddie’s spine; drip drip drip until he feels every muscle in his body tense like it does right before a kill. The thought of this feeling digging its claws in his flesh and bone for the entirety of the games haunts him. He may never know any other feeling for the rest of his life.
“I swore I would,” he replies, swallowing the sudden metallic taste in his mouth.
“I bet you did.” Taylor says, offering him a smile that looks nearly genuine as she gives his leg a squeeze.
The buzzer goes off and Eddie feels something close to relief as he stands. Taylor takes his hand and raises it in the air, her beautiful black dress swooshing around her like a dark shadow that reminds Eddie eerily of smoke.
“Eddie Diaz from District Twelve,” she announces with a stunningly bright grin, “The boy on fire!”
The crowd roars and Eddie feels a little dizzy as his ears ring. He mostly stumbles back to his seat and almost ruins his entire reputation — the eleven rating earned from training — by face planting on stage when a hand, warm and gentle to the touch, grabs his elbow to steady him.
Eddie doesn’t have to look to know that Buck is the one holding him up, but his traitorous eyes flick up to the boy anyway. His eyes are so very blue, bright like the morning sky before the world has really woken up, and his birthmark a shade of pink that reminds Eddie of the primroses that grow by their house.
For just a second, he forgets all the hurt and betrayal he felt when Bobby told him Buck wanted to be coached alone. For a moment he forgets that he and Buck aren’t the only two people to exist right now.
And then the illusion is shattered as Taylor calls Buck’s name and the audience gushes and laughs at whatever their faces must look like highlighted on the big screen. Eddie feels a rush of shame and embarrassment, but Buck’s lips quirk into his Eddie Smile and something settles in his chest as he finally takes his seat.
He’ll never know how Buck perfected it. How he found a gesture that plants seed after seed of doubt in Eddie’s mind that maybe this isn’t just a game.
He’s still slightly dazed during the first part of Buck’s interview, but once he shakes himself back into reality he can easily see how taken the audience is with Buck. How can they not be?
Buck is handsome, face framed by light brown curls that can almost be described as golden, those beautiful blue eyes, and sunshine smile even when Eddie knows it’s the one he puts on for a show.
Buck is charming. He makes the audience laugh and he rambles about different types of bread, but Eddie can see everyone is listening like it’s the most interesting thing in the world.
Taylor is especially enamored with Buck; leaning into his space and running her hands over his shoulders, his knee, reaching near his inner thigh as she bats her unnaturally long lashes.
Eddie can’t stop his jaw from clenching, hands curling into fist at his sides. Something dark and feral slithers in between his ribs. He has to rub lightly at his chest just so he can take a deep breath.
He tries to tell himself that what he’s feeling is disgust on Buck’s behalf. Eddie’s heard the rumors, the things that happen to the victors who are particularly attractive. The way those in the Capitol all want is a pound of their flesh.
Buck deserves more than that. Because he’s not just a pretty face. Buck is gentle and kind and thinks about others more than himself even when Eddie knows that when it comes to the Hunger Games all of that will go out the window. But that’s not fair. In any other life he thinks Buck would always choose to be kind.
It can’t be anything else. It can’t be because Eddie has some claim over Buck or that he wants to run his hands over—
No.
There’s nothing more than the rage and unfairness he feels towards the Capitol for treating them like they’re indispensable things.
“So Buck,” Taylor says in a way that makes Eddie’s skin prickle, “handsome boy like you must have a girl back home waiting for you.”
Buck blushes, ducking his head before he says, “Not uh, not a she.” There’s a collective gasp from the audience and Eddie watches with some satisfaction as Taylor frowns.
“There’s this boy I’ve had a crush on forever, but I don’t think he really knew who I was until the reaping.”
Eddie pushes his lips to the side as the audience sighs in sympathy.
“Does he already have someone special?” Taylor asks with genuine curiosity.
“I don’t know,” Buck shrugs, looking a little lost and Eddie almost can’t believe how good he is at selling himself to these people, “a lot of people like him. The girls especially.”
Taylor grabs his hand and Eddie thinks if everyone in Panem could do it, they’d be taking Buck’s hand too.
“So, here’s what you do,” she says and Eddie almost laughs at how ridiculous it is to listen to Taylor Kelly give Buck dating advice as if he isn’t about to head to the slaughter house tomorrow. “You go out there and you win. And when you go home he won’t be able to turn you down.”
Buck gives her a pained smile and the agonized look in those baby blue eyes looks so fucking real it makes Eddie’s breath hitch in his throat. “I um — I don’t think winning is going to help me.”
“Why not?” Taylor asks in disbelief.
Buck flutters his lashes, his cheeks the same color as his birthmark as he says, “Because—” He stops and stutters for a second. “Because he came here with me.”
It takes nearly a full ten seconds for the world to stop fucking spinning and Eddie to realize that his face is now the one being plastered across every screen in Panem. He can see himself, mouth dropped open in shock and something he doesn’t know how to name.
Me, Eddie thinks, his blood fizzing and popping like the champagne they drank after the parade around the Capitol, Buck is talking about me.
Eddie immediately snaps his mouth shut, dropping his gaze to the ground just so they can’t pick apart every emotion pouring out of him. He knows his face must be beet red, but he can’t do anything else except feel the way his heart is pounding out of his chest.
Like it wants to escape.
Like it wants to run right to Buck.
“Oh,” Taylor says and she actually sounds sad, “that is bad luck.”
He can hear the crowd murmuring in agreement, a few pained cries following the buzzing chatter.
“Yeah,” Buck smiles wryly, “it’s not good.”
“I don’t think anyone can blame you,” Taylor says almost kindly. “It’d be hard not to fall in love with the boy on fire. Did he know?”
Buck just shakes his head, laughs awkwardly., “No. Well—uh—not until now.”
“If only we could pull Eddie Diaz back out on stage,” Taylor says as she looks at the audience, their screams growing louder, “but rules are rules. Best of luck to you, Evan Buckley,” Taylor squeezes his hand, “all of our hearts go out to you.”
The roar of the crowd is deafening. Eddie knows that Buck has decimated the rest of them by declaring his love before he’s doomed to either destroy it or let it destroy him.
Poor tragic boys from District Twelve.
Eddie wants to fucking kill Buck right now.
He waits until they’re in the safety of their tower and as soon as Buck steps out of the elevator Eddie has his hands on him. The pads of his fingers dig into Buck’s chest and he harshly shoves the boy into a large vase filled with fake flowers. The vase breaks and Buck lands in the middle of sharp ceramic pieces, slicing his hand open.
“Eddie,” he hisses, eyes growing dark for the first time since Eddie’s ever met him (good, Eddie thinks wickedly), “what the hell was that for?”
“Why did you say those things about me?” Eddie snarls. There’s so many things raging war in his chest, but anger is the easiest one, the one Eddie knows so well. “You had no right!”
The tense silence is broken as Bobby, Athena, Josh, and Karen step off the elevator, their pleasant conversation coming to a halt as they lay their eyes on them.
Eddie chest heaving and face furious. Buck bleeding and full of devastation.
“Did you fall?” Josh asks, horrified.
“After he shoved me,” Buck mutters as Athena and Karen help him up.
“Shoved you?” Bobby asks, suddenly turning towards Eddie with such sharpness that Eddie flinches back.
The anger comes back full force now that Bobby is here. Buck and Bobby have something he knows that he will never have. Almost like a father and son.
“This was your idea,” Eddie sneers, his defenses going up up up, “wasn’t it, Bobby? To make me look like a fool in front of everyone!”
“It was my idea,” Buck says quietly, wincing as Karen carefully pulls ceramic from his palm, “Bobby just helped me with it.”
“Of course Bobby helped you.” Eddie says, arms crossing over his chest.
He wants to fucking cry, but he doesn’t understand why.
“Eddie, Jesus Christ,” Bobby rolls his eyes, “do you think Buck hurt you? He gave you something you wouldn’t have been able to achieve on your own.”
“He made me look weak!” Eddie protests.
“He made you look desirable!” Bobby fires back. “That's all they’re talking about, the star-crossed lovers from District Twelve!”
“But—” His arms fall to his sides as he looks at Buck and for one moment he believes it. He really, truly believes that maybe everything Buck has ever done he did because he’s in love with Eddie.
In between one breath and the next the moment is gone and Eddie reminds himself that tomorrow no matter what happens only one of them can come out of the arena alive. “But we’re not star-crossed lovers!”
“It doesn’t matter!” Bobby says with a slightly manic laugh. “Do you know how many sponsors we can get with this?”
“Eddie,” Athena says, a calming hand on his shoulder, “Bobby’s right.”
“I should have been told,” Eddie argues weakly, “so I didn’t look so goddamn stupid.”
“No,” Karen smiles, “no, Eddie, your reaction was perfect. If you had known then it wouldn’t have looked so real.”
“Eddie’s just worried about what Shannon will think,” Buck mumbles darkly, smearing blood over the lines of his palm.
“Shannon isn’t my girlfriend or anything like that,” Eddie fires back.
“Whatever.” Buck shrugs, “I’m sure Shannon is smart enough to know a bluff when she sees it.”
Eddie wants to tell him to stop talking about Shannon, because they’re not like that. They’re not. Shannon doesn’t stir up nearly as many emotions as Buck does, but he can’t say that either.
“Besides,” Buck continues, “you didn’t say you loved me, so what does it matter?”
Tensions calm down after that, but Eddie can’t help, but feel like he missed a step or several somewhere as Buck looks away from him, the tell-tale sign of tears blinking out of his eyes.
“I’m sorry about your hand,” Eddie whispers as everyone heads towards the table for dinner.
“It’s fine,” Buck says, “it doesn’t matter anyway.”
Eddie reaches out for him, desperate to heal; to soothe, but Eddie’s never been a healer. He only knows how to hunt. How to hurt. How to kill. All Eddie can think about as Buck slips out of his grasp is that tomorrow they will enter the arena and Buck will have bandaged hands. Buck who had only done Eddie a favor and Eddie answered with an injury.
When will Eddie ever stop owing him?
Eddie knows sleep is futile the moment he climbs in bed.
He feels like a live-wire; his skin buzzing with such ferocity he may shake apart before he even reaches the arena. He can’t stop thinking about what awaits him tomorrow morning. What kind of place they’ll throw him into.
He desperately hopes for some sort of forest, something with trees, but he could very well find himself in the middle of an ocean or lost in a desert. If the climate weren’t enough he knows the gamemakers will have traps and surprises waiting around every corner. He could be lost in an avalanche or perish in the fire if they get bored. The thought nearly sends him retching up his dinner in the bathroom.
And then there are his fellow tributes…
Eddie thinks about the monstrous boy from District Two: Jonah. The way his eyes roamed over Eddie in training, seizing him up like he was a challenge or worse, a meal. How they fell over Buck with a thoughtful and calculating expression.
There were the other careers, names Eddie doesn’t really remember, but he knows how deadly they can be. Jonah’s counterpart (a girl he thinks might be named Lena) was scarily handy with knives.
There was the girl he nicknamed Foxface, a clever looking sly girl that knew a lot about edible and poisonous plants. Darius, the boy from District Eleven that was quiet, but big and strong. Denny, the one that reminded Eddie painfully of Christopher, just twelve years old, following him around the training room like a shadow.
And of course Buck…
Eddie is out of his bed and stumbling down the hallway in desperate need for fresh air. Everything feels like it’s closing in on him. His room is a prison and the terrifying thought that he is probably going to die in a place so far from home as the whole country watches is too much.
If he is the lucky one that wins he’ll have to do something more terrible than facing death. Eddie will have to live. He will have to live knowing twenty-three others were not allowed to survive. That all of their blood will be on his hands whether Eddie kills them or not.
He’ll have to live in a world without Buck.
The door to the roof is already slightly ajar, but Eddie doesn’t worry about it too much as he hurriedly climbs up the stairs. It’s not like he’ll have anywhere to go when he’s up there. He wonders which tribute was the first to throw themselves from the railings. Which one looked down and only saw the abyss and decided it wasn’t nearly as terrifying as facing their fate in the arena.
The roof isn’t lit at night, but Eddie can clearly see Buck’s silhouette against the bright lights of the Capitol. He almost looks ethereal bathed in different hues of gold and blue, like he’s been painted in starlight.
Eddie can’t even bring himself to imagine what Buck might look like splattered in crimson red. How it could speckle across his rose blushed cheeks or smear against the pout of his lips. How blue his eyes would become, like the crest of an ocean wave.
Eddie could turn around now. He could slip back through the door and pretend like he never saw Buck, maybe the last time he’ll see him before they’re forced to come to terms with the horrifying reality that only one of them can live no matter how they feel about each other.
But Eddie is tired. Tired of playing pretend and not giving in to the pull in his chest. He thinks he’s allowed to have one selfish moment.
“Shouldn’t you be asleep?” He asks as he steps into Buck’s space.
Buck startles, just a little, but he doesn’t take his eyes off of the sprawling city that is brimming with life. “And miss the party?” He asks, slightly amused as he gestures down towards the crowds of people drinking and laughing. “It is for us after all.”
“How rude of them not to invite us to our own party.” Eddie hums as he trails his finger over the metal railing.
Buck laughs, loud and unabashed, and Eddie feels a warmth spread from the top of his head all the way to the tips of his toes.
“I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you make a joke.” Buck says after a moment, still grinning.
“What,” Eddie cocks an eyebrow, “ you think I’m not funny?”
“You’re more of a dry humor kind of guy,” Buck just shrugs.
Eddie can’t stop the pleased smile from spreading across his face and he watches as Buck ducks his head in that way he always does when he’s being bashful.
Maybe instead of the giant screens and fireworks Eddie can imagine it’s the moon or the stars pouring over them in soft light. They can be in the forest right outside of District Twelve overlooking the mountains in the distance. They can just be two boys existing in a moment together simply because.
Buck has a light hold on the railing and Eddie drags his finger closer, almost touching, but not quite.
Buck’s grip tightens.
“Can’t sleep either?’ Buck finally asks and Eddie is forced to face reality.
They’re in the Capitol and tomorrow they will be in the arena. And at some point it’s not going to matter whether this is their last moment together or not.
“Can’t turn my mind off.” Eddie shrugs as he drops his hand to his side.
“Thinking about your family?” Buck tilts his head in Eddie’s direction, face open and curious.
“No.” Eddie answers honestly as guilt settles like a brick in his stomach. “All I can think about is tomorrow, which,” he laughs a little bitterly as he scrubs his face, “is probably pointless.”
A flash of light from across their building illuminates them both and Eddie can easily see the bandages wrapped around Buck’s hand. He swallows, the guilt twisting and writhing like a venomous snake in his stomach. “I really am sorry about your hand.”
Buck sighs deeply as he wrings his hands. “It’s okay, Eddie,” he murmurs, “I’ve never really been a contender in the Games anyway.”
Eddie bristles at that. He’s so fucking tired of hearing Buck act like he’s expendable. “You shouldn’t say that,” Eddie argues.
“Why not?” Buck shrugs and Eddie has to bite his lip to stop himself from screaming. “It’s true, the best I can hope for is not to disgrace myself and—” He stops, hesitating as he looks at Eddie with wide wide eyes.
“And what?” Eddie whispers.
Buck licks his lips and he shifts nervously from one foot to the other. “I — it — it’s hard to explain, but I want to die as myself, you know?”
Eddie shakes his head, because he doesn’t understand what Buck means. How can you die as anyone else?
Buck scrunches his nose, running his uninjured hand through his curls, “I don’t want them to change me in there. Make me some kind of monster that I’m not.” His eyes are so blue from the glow of the city. “I don’t want to be a piece in their game.”
Eddie shrinks away, something bitter taking hold. Of course Buck would worry about something like that. While he and everyone else is desperately working out how to survive, Buck is struggling to figure out how to maintain his identity.
“So,” Eddie spits, feeling significantly inferior, “you’re not going to kill anyone?”
“Of course I will if it comes down to it,” Buck shakes his head, “I can’t go down without a fight.”
“Then why does it matter?” Eddie asks, crossing his arms over his chest, building his defense back up.
He should never have let Buck in at all.
“What else am I allowed to care about at this point?” Buck throws him a sharp look and for the first time Eddie really hears the anger that maybe has always simmered just beneath the surface.
“Care about staying alive.” Eddie deadpans.
“We both know that if only one of us goes home it’s going to be you,” Buck says a little sad and mockingly.
“I wish you’d stop fucking saying that,” Eddie snarls. He doesn’t give Buck a chance to say anymore as he turns on his heels and starts for the door.
“If you want to spend your last night planning some noble death in the arena then fine. I’ll spend mine making sure I make it back to District Twelve.”
He can’t be sure if Buck responds or not as he makes it back to the staircase, but something carries over the wind. Something achingly soft and heartbroken that sounds a little like It was always going to be you.
Eddie decides he didn’t hear anything at all. He decides it’s just the wind. It’s just the wind.
Eddie feels his stomach bottom out as he and Athena step into the Launch Room, the skin of his arm where a tracker had been injected beginning to itch terribly. He remembers overhearing people at The Hob call it the Stockyard; a place where animals go before they’re slaughtered.
He almost throws up his breakfast all over the entranceway, but somehow manages to choke the disgusting taste of bile back down. Right at this moment twenty-three others are walking into their own Launch Room. Their own Stockyard.
A sharp pang shoots through his chest, snagging his lungs and heart in a white hot snare at the thought of Christopher walking through the catacombs beneath the arena. How the click of his crutches would echo down the narrowed hall to the last place most people see before faced with their impending doom. Knowing that Christopher is safe and at home is the only thing keeping Eddie’s legs from giving out.
He almost collapses to the floor anyway when he remembers Buck is somewhere in his prison too.
If you want to spend your last night planning some noble death in the arena then fine. I’ll spend mine making sure I make it back to District Twelve.
Eddie wonders if that’s the last thing he’ll ever say to Buck. He can’t fathom the idea of killing Buck. Of Buck killing him. Maybe Eddie will get lucky and Buck will be put out of his misery as soon as the countdown ends. Maybe one of the Careers will give the boy with baby blue eyes and sunshine smile a quick and painless death.
Buck can still die as himself or whatever the fuck he was on about and Eddie won’t have to think or worry or wonder about Evan Buckley ever again.
A sob breaks out of him, a quiet and broken sound that is thankfully drowned out by the spray of the shower.
He doesn’t understand why losing Buck feels like losing a part of himself.
Athena helps him dress; dark green pants, black shirt, a light hooded black jacket, and a pair of sturdy boots. He listens as Athena quietly murmurs about what the choice of clothing means; too light for snow, not the right colors for a desert, not suitable for an aquatic environment.
The jacket is made of material that reflects heat, so he should expect cool nights. His heart beats harder and harder against his chest with each passing second, like it knows exactly where it’s about to go and it’s trying to escape right through his ribcage. He releases a breath he’s been holding for far too long, jolted by a sting in the soft flesh of his palms.
He blinks back tears thinking about Buck’s hands wrapped in tight bandages.
“Last thing,” Athena says, her voice soothing and sweet as honey as she digs into her pocket and pulls out a silver necklace on a chain.
Eddie doesn’t stop the tears this time as he blinks at the pendant hanging in the space between them. “Where did you get that?” He croaks, voice rough as he tries to keep himself together.
“It’s your token, right?” Athena asks with a smile. “I found it on your nightstand.”
Eddie just bites his lips, nodding as he lets Athena put it over his head. She lays it flat, running her finger over the pendant carefully.
“St. Christopher,” she hums, deep brown eyes that painfully remind Eddie of soil in the forest back at home gazing at him gently, “for your nephew.”
“Yeah,” Eddie manages, “he gave it to me before I left.”
He told Eddie to win. To fight. To come back home. Eddie can’t let him down now.
“And this, "He flips it over revealing the Mockingjay symbol that sits on the other side.
“When Christopher was born,” Eddie explains, the words catching in his throat as he tries not to lose it, “all of the Mockingjays that lived in the trees just outside our house fell silent until he uttered his first cry, but they didn’t copy the sounds. They started to sing instead.”
“I’ve heard you have quite the singing voice too,” Athena says as she places a motherly hand against his cheek, wiping away his fallen tears.
“Who told you that, Bobby?” He asks with a choked laugh.
“Buck.” She answers simply.
Eddie ducks his gaze, avoiding the knowing look sparkling in her eye. None of that will matter soon anyway. The only thing Eddie can do now is stay alive. If he thinks about anything else he’s terrified the weight of it all will crush him into the core of the earth where he will vaporize into dust.
“It’s time,” Athena says as a voice from an overhead speaker tells them to prepare for the launch. Eddie clenches Athena’s hand as she walks him to the circular metal platform he will rise up into the arena on.
“Remember what Bobby said,” Athena instructs him, face tight and serious, “run, find water. The rest will follow.”
Eddie just nods, too afraid to open his mouth.
“I’m not allowed to bet,” Athena says more quietly as she gives his hand a gentle squeeze, “but if I could, my money would be on you.”
“Yeah?” Eddie asks, a little breathless.
“Every time,” Athena says with so much conviction in her voice that for one beautiful second hope flickers in Eddie’s chest; hot and burning and promising to catch fire. “Good luck, boy on fire.”
The cylinder lowers over Eddie, breaking their hold on each other. Athena taps her fingers under her chin; head high. Eddie pulls himself to his fullest height and raises his chin as he begins to rise. He’s plunged into darkness for fifteen seconds before he's hit with the fresh smell of pine that makes the flame in his chest grow stronger.
“Ladies and Gentleman, let the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games begin!”
Sixty seconds.
It’s been drilled into Eddie over and over again. Do not move from the platform for sixty seconds. Wait for the sound of the gong.
Go any earlier and the landmines planted just around the platforms will blow you sky high and your chance of survival will be over before it’s even begun. Eddie takes this minute to look around, figure out which place to run to first.
There’s an expanse stretch of ground that drops off just to the left and clutter of densely packed trees just behind him, spanning across the rest of the space before it cuts off into a field of tall grass the color of gold, wheat Eddie thinks. He also can only imagine the kind of horrors the Gamemakers have waiting for all of them in there.
In front of all of them is the Cornucopia; a giant gold horn spilling with endless weapons and supplies. Eddie knows he should run for the trees. It’s where Bobby would want him to go. It is where Bobby wants him to go, but the lure of the Cornucopia is almost too painful to ignore.
Especially when his eyes land on the silver sheath of arrows and a bow right in the middle on a pile of rolled blankets. If he doesn’t get it someone else will. The Careers, most likely, and Eddie already knows how deadly they are.
That’s mine, Eddie thinks. It’s for me.
Eddie knows he’s fast. Faster than most of the other tributes lined up equidistant from the temptations lying right in front of them. He can make it. He can run and get his best chance of survival even if it means he has to fight his way out.
He won’t be the only target in the Cornucopia, right? There are twenty-four tributes and you can’t kill two people at the same time in the middle of all the chaos. Bobby’s never seen him run.
Maybe his advice would be different if he knew what Eddie was really capable of. He promised Christopher he would fight to come home, but he can’t do that if his best chance at salvation ends up in the hands of someone else.
Someone like Lena or Jonah.
Eddie can see the countdown steadily reaching closer to zero, his time to make a decision running out. He plants his feet, getting ready to run right towards the bow and arrow instead of into the forest.
Suddenly, Eddie feels that pull in his chest that he’s become intimately familiar with ever since the day of the reaping. He turns, his gaze locking onto Buck’s instantly. Buck is about five tributes to the right of where Eddie is, but he can clearly see that Buck is looking at him and that he’s shaking his head.
Eddie’s lips part as if he is going to say something, but the gong rings and Eddie’s missed his chance.
The moment throws his entire center of gravity off and he stumbles down the platform before his bearings return.
He scoops up a backpack and a few other supplies, barely avoiding the sharp throw of a knife by Lena (which he pulls from the ground as he runs by).
He turns and runs straight towards the cover of trees, anger and frustration at Buck for distracting him, pushing him further and further into cover and farther away from bloodshed.
It’s not until he’s safely put at least a few miles between himself and the Cornucopia that he has the thought that Buck has once again saved his life.
Eddie slows his pace once the woods begin to evolve; thicker trees with less visibility, the dip of a valley that he skirts around in favor of being up high to keep an eye out for his enemies.
He hasn’t found water yet, but the scatter of rabbits shows promise and he allows himself a smile knowing that at least he won’t starve. He is glad he managed to gorge himself in the Capitol the days before the games, allowing him a little extra weight and a longer chance of surviving if food is in short supply.
He doubts the tributes from District One or Two know what it’s like to go days without a meal.
He takes a deep breath, the fresh scent of pine and soil soothe him, like a balm to all his frayed nerves. He may not recognize every tree or plant surrounding him, but it feels like home.
Eddie feels a little rejuvenated by the solitude, even if it is just an illusion. He knows there must be dozens of cameras focusing on him at this very moment, the eyes of the nation watching his every move.
He suppresses a shudder because for all they can see he’s alone and he can’t afford to show weakness just moments after the games have started. He knows whatever he’s doing isn’t nearly as interesting as the bloodbath going on back at the Cornucopia. If anything, they’re just showing footage of him to prove that he’s still alive.
He practically hear Taylor Kelly in his head: “And there’s our Boy on Fire! Looks like he made it out of there alive. Let’s see what he does next.”
He can’t stop the slightly deranged laugh from bubbling out of him, breaking the steady sounds of the forest. He slaps a hand over his mouth and scrubs his face, body tense as he listens for the snap of a twig or approaching footsteps.
None come.
It’s not until late afternoon that he finally hears the boom of the cannons; each shot representing a dead tribute. He figures that means the fighting in the Cornucopia has stopped as they usually don’t bother until everyone’s scattered. Too hard to keep track of the fatalities when it all happens in less than the time you’re supposed to wait on the platform.
Eddie rolls his shoulder, ignoring the unpleasant lurch in his stomach as he stops to listen. Eleven total. Eleven dead. That means there are thirteen left of them for now. He won’t know for sure who all didn’t make it until they’re projected later in the sky.
Suddenly, it hits Eddie all at once. That overwhelming and terrifying thought that Buck has already lost. That he’s been bled out, carelessly collected to be transported back to the Capitol where they will clean him up, and sent home in a simple wooden box back to District Twelve.
Eddie imagines sterile, gloved hands stitching the pieces of Evan Buckley together. Painting on his beautiful birthmark and making him all shiny and new just to be put in the fucking ground.
Eddie stumbles into the nearest tree, bracing his hand against the bark, glad for the rough scratch of pain against his palms. He tries to remember if he even saw Buck in the middle of the action, but all he can recall is Buck’s headshake, as if he could read Eddie’s mind and knew he wanted to go for the bow and arrow.
Maybe it’s better this way. Buck repeatedly stated he never had a chance of winning. That he was so sure of Eddie getting to be the one who goes home. Only one of them can. There’s only one victor. No matter how much the Capitol loves the drama of the star-crossed lovers.
Eddie will not be the one who kills Buck. He can’t. So, yeah, maybe it’s better if Buck is out of this for good.
Eddie bites back a sob that claws at his chest so hard he has to rub his sternum just to feel relief.
He doesn’t believe for one second that losing Buck is better.
Eddie lets his body slump to the ground feeling extremely exhausted. He decides to go through his pack, take stock of what he has (an empty canteen, crackers, dried beef, a thin sleeping bag, matches, wire, and some weird pair of sunglasses) just to take his mind off of the awful thought of Buck being gone from the world.
He packs up his supplies and continues on, chewing on a piece of bark he cut from the tree with his knife (Thanks, Lena) to keep his stomach from growling too loudly.
He only makes it another hour before night begins to fall across the arena and with no water Eddie picks a tree he can easily climb, ignoring how dry his mouth feels. The temperature swings are enough to kill a tribute within days or maybe even hours.
Long, hot days that cause dehydration and crisp, freezing nights that are brutal without some sort of cover. Eddie feels safer above ground and with his dark hooded jacket and sleeping bag no one should be able to see him this far up.
Just as he settles in the Capitol anthem begins to play as the seal appears in the sky. The arena looks and feels so much like a forest that Eddie’s nearly forgotten that he isn’t actually outside.
A cage is a cage. Even one filled with all this beautiful green and speckled with stars that remind him of the nights lying in the grass with his sisters growing up.
He knows it’s not possible, but the arena suddenly feels so much smaller, like it’s closing in around him.
He distantly wonders if his family is watching right now. From past games he knows they’re showing all of the highlights of the day. The killing.
Are his sisters and mother gathered around their tiny television, Christopher already tucked in bed, watching Eddie run off into the woods? Have they allowed themselves a sigh of relief or is the tension just growing, the anticipation balancing like a knife as they wait to see if he makes it the next day or hour or even minute? Is Shannon disappointed he didn’t grab the bow? He can picture her now, muttering angrily at the screen.
Eddie, you can hunt. You can’t win if you don’t hunt. You promised you’d come home.
He quickly shoves those thoughts away. He doesn’t want to think of Shannon right now. Not when everything in him is so twisted and aching about Buck.
Finally, the seal disappears and the pictures of the dead tributes appear in its place. The first face is a girl from District Three. Eddie snorts quietly. He’s not the least bit surprised the Careers are still alive.
He bets they’re holed up with all the supplies by the lake. Fresh water and a good supply of food.
He licks his lips and tries not to think about how fucking thirsty he is. The faces continue. Eddie knows there are eleven of them tonight, his heart pounding against his chest as they get closer and closer to Twelve. Foxface is still alive along with Darrius, the strong boy from District Eleven. He’s pleasantly surprised to see Denny has survived.
And Buck.
Buck is still alive.
The relief hits Eddie like a train nearly makes him boneless.
Buck is alive.
He tries to tell himself the flood of emotions drowning him knowing that somewhere out there Buck’s heart is still beating, that his lungs are still feeling with air, that his blue blue eyes are not staring blankly up at the sky is just because if Eddie can’t win then Buck is who he’s rooting for. Buck would make sure that Christopher and his sisters were okay.
That’s all.
That’s all.
He sinks down in his sleeping bag, trying to find a comfortable position. He knows sleep is going to be pretty futile, but he needs the rest. He can’t help, but imagine Buck perched next to him with that sunshine smile, whispering facts about trees or plants like he did that day in the library.
Eddie, did you know that acorns are a fruit, not a seed? Oak trees don’t start producing acorns until they reach around 20 years old. One tree can make 2,000 acorns every year, but only about 1 in 10,000 will become a new tree.
Eddie doesn’t stop the small smile curling in the corner of his mouth. He lets his muscles relax, his eyes fluttering close, the last thing he remembers thinking about is baby blue eyes and the splash of pink….
Snap!
Eddie jerks awake to the sound of breaking branches. He tries to quietly orient himself, blinking blearily into the night sky. He’s not sure how long he’s been asleep, but he does know that the tip of his nose is ice cold.
The sound is several hundred yards away, but the unmistakable billow of smoke makes Eddie go absolutely still. He bites down on his lip to stop the frustrated scream from echoing into the darkness. He knows that it’s cold and that not everyone got supplies, but a fire at night is about as suicidal as it gets in the arena.
And Eddie is right within the hunting zone.
He feels a sudden itch beneath his skin, a voice in his head that could be Bobby, or Shannon, or even Buck saying You need to get out of there.
Eddie catches the barest tint of soft morning light in the direction he assumes is east which means dawn will be rapidly approaching soon and his chances of getting out unseen are slowly slipping away.
Before he can make a decision he hears the sound of heavy footsteps. Whoever the tribute is he knows it’s not Buck or Denny. It’s a girl, begging for her life, and Eddie’s empty stomach rolls at the desperate, pleading sound. An agonized scream follows before the loud bang of the cannon rings in the air.
“Twelve down,” one of them cheers with pride, Eddie’s pretty sure it’s Lena. “Only eleven to go.”
Eddie burrows down into his sleeping bag as far as he can go as he hears them drawing close to where he is. He’s not surprised the Careers are all held up together.
Alliances usually form early on in the games. Once all the weak tributes are picked off and tensions run too high they’ll turn on each other. Eddie wonders if he can outlive their desire to hunt together.
“We better clear out of here so they can take the body before it starts stinking,” Jonah leers, sending a chill down Eddie’s spine.
“Lover boy,” someone else calls in a mocking voice, “don’t forget to grab the extra pack.”
“Whatever you say,” a voice Eddie would recognize anywhere responds casually and he can practically picture the young boy shrugging his shoulders.
Eddie almost falls out of the tree as he catches sight of Buck. He’s illuminated by the torch light being carried by Lena and the boy from District One.
His face is swollen, painted in splotches of black and blue, and there’s a bloody bandage tied around his arm. Eddie can also see that he’s limping slightly, favoring his right leg.
Buck.
His Buck.
The same Buck that told the nation he was in love with Eddie. The one who was so adamant about Eddie making it home. The one who didn’t want the games to change him. To not be a piece or a pawn. The one who shook his head to remind Eddie that he needs to run.
All along he was planning on throwing himself in the middle of the action. To team up with the fucking Careers of all people.
“Can’t we just kill him now?” The girl from One pouts.
“What’s the harm?” Lena shrugs as she runs her finger over one of her blades. “Let him tag along, besides he’s handy with a knife.”
That’s news to Eddie. With a sinking sensation he’s beginning to wonder if he really knew Evan Buckley at all.
“He’s our best chance of finding him.” Jonah cuts in.
Eddie almost has to double check that his sleeping bag isn’t on fire because he feels like he’s been dropped into a goddamn inferno. There’s only one person they could be talking about.
“You actually believe all that sappy romance stuff?” The boy from One asks as Lena mimes puking.
“Does it matter?” Jonah shrugs, “Maybe he believes it, so right now Buck stays with us and as soon as the boy on fire is out of the game you can do whatever you want with Lover Boy.”
“Whatever we want.” Lena grins cruelly and Eddie bites his lip to stop the snarl from ripping out his throat.
“We ready to keep moving?” Buck asks, appearing out of nowhere.
His face is hard and unreadable. Eddie’s never seen him look quite so cold.
The betrayal hits him all at once as the group disappears into the woods. Buck is helping the Careers find him. Everything, everything was a lie. A game. A sharp and hollow bark of a laugh leaves Eddie before he can stop it. Eddie may have been awarded the eleven, but Buck is the most dangerous player in the arena.
It feels like his fucking ribcage has been cracked open, exposing all his insides for the entirety of Panem to see.
The star-crossed lovers of District Twelve.
For Buck’s sake Eddie hopes they never run into each other again. Because this time Eddie doesn’t think he’d hesitate to take Buck out.
He quickly climbs down from the tree and heads in the opposite direction of the Careers. The opposite direction of Buck. He ignores that aching pull in his chest. The way his heart feels like it’s breaking. He ignores that little voice in the back of his head that wonders if maybe Buck hasn’t betrayed him at all.
Eddie plunges deeper into the woods and tries not to think about Buck ever again.
Eddie smells the fire before he sees it.
The hot, thick smoke that burns his lungs as he inhales, jolting him awake. He blinks against the black cloud, eyes pricking with tears as he tries not to choke. The wall of fire, blazing bright orange and yellow and red, is hard to miss. He can’t help but think that the Gamemakers have some sick sense of humor.
Eddie Diaz, the boy on fire, let’s see how well he does with the real thing.
He leaps from the tree, rolling to the ground just as a giant fireball shoots past where he was perched on the branch. He shoves the sleeping bag into his backpack, thankful that his water bottle is already in there. The water sloshes half empty tauntingly, but Eddie knows it’s not nearly enough to put out the inferno that’s hot on his tail.
He’s not sure where he’s running to, all he can think is out out out.
Out of the fire. Out of the smoke. Out of danger.
The fire is everywhere. Everything burns and Eddie can’t tell what is going to kill him first; the smoke or the flames.
Even if he does make it out he knows exactly what the Gamemakers are doing. The fire is designed to flush all the tributes out and drive them together. Wherever they’re directing Eddie he can make a pretty good guess that someone else will be waiting for him.
Each breath hurts more than the last, his chest so close to exploding all over the arena. Eddie stumbles over a pile of rocks, pain shooting through his knees, and the warm, sticky sensation of blood pooling beneath his right palm.
He laughs, a little deranged, because the only thing he can think of is that his injury matches the one he gave Buck the night before the games. He vomits a second later.
Keep going, a voice that suspiciously, stupidly — heartbreakingly — sounds like Buck says, Eddie, you need to keep going.
He wants to scream, but there’s not enough oxygen for him to make the noise. He feels dizzy and lightheaded, eyes fluttering close. The first thing that comes to mind is Christopher’s smiling face. His bright bright eyes and his bubbly laugh as Eddie points out all the birds that flutter by in their backyard.
Do it for Christopher, Buck’s voice urges, do it for yourself.
Eddie forces himself to his feet and takes off downhill. Fireballs crash into trees around him, forcing him to constantly change direction, but he doesn’t give up. He keeps moving despite the feeling of pure agony with every step he takes.
He hears a loud hissing sound a second too late, his muscle reaction slower than normal as a fireball lands right next to him. It catches part of his left thigh and he’s rolling to the ground just to put it out. The pain is excruciating and there are little, red welts that bubble across his hands.
He can’t stop the scream that rips right up his throat this time.
If the Gamemakers want to finish him off, now would be the perfect time. He watches the fire abate, the sharp hisses taper off.
No, he thinks, the real sport is watching us kill each other. His brain tells him he needs to move because someone else is close, maybe climb a tree, but the thought of it nearly makes him vomit again.
He hears the faint trickle of water and crawls towards the sound like his life depends on it. A moment later he is tumbling into a cool spring and he cries from relief as the water hits his burned and charred skin.
He remembers, not long after his father died, a young unconscious man was brought to his mother, skin charred right down to the bone from a mining accident.
Eddie took one look and ran from the house as fast as he could. He spent all day in the woods, haunted by the gruesome leg mixed with memories of his father. Adrianna didn’t care for that kind of thing either, but she never ran away. She kept Christopher busy while Sophia stayed by his mother’s side and helped.
His mother always said healers were born not made. Sophia was born to heal. He thinks Christopher has inherited that from her.
All Eddie knows how to do is hunt.
Hurt.
Kill.
Maybe he’s right where he belongs.
The sound of feet, loud and pounding, startles Eddie out of his thoughts, relief replaced by adrenaline and fear. He’s out of the pool and running back towards the forest, the calls from his pursuers not too far behind.
His only consolation is that they sound as bad as he feels. Seems like he wasn’t the only one caught up in the fire. Any comfort he took from soaking in the cool water is now gone, his leg a five-alarm blaze as he limps through the trees. He hears their heckles, knows without a doubt that the Career pack is the one chasing him.
He can’t help but wonder if Buck is still with him. He hates that the thought of seeing Buck loosens something tight in his chest.
Climb, he hears Buck’s voice in his head, you need to climb.
Eddie finds a high tree and begins to climb. He bites down on his lip hard enough to draw blood just to stop the gutted noises from tearing right out of him.
He doesn’t need to give the Careers any sort of leverage over him, even as he realizes he’ll be easy prey. Eddie makes it up about twenty-five feet, pressing his cheek into the bark as he fights back tears.
This could be it, he thinks—as he looks down to see all four Careers staring right up at him.
His heart pounds against his chest when he shifts his gaze just to the outskirts of the others and lands on Buck. His eyes are so stunningly blue in the dying sunlight, face streaked with ash and grime.
He almost looks devastated. Like Eddie is the last person he wants to see. Eddie’s face hardens.
The feeling is mutual.
The Careers stand at the base of the trunk, grinning and snarling, weapons poised in their hand, but they don’t advance. It suddenly hits Eddie that they can’t climb like he can. They’re bigger, heavier, more well fed maybe, save for Buck.
Buck has always been taller than Eddie, broader too, even though it looks like the games have taken its toll.
Eddie can’t help the small as he calls down to them, “How’s the view from down there?”
That surprises them and Eddie grins knowing all of the cameras must be focusing on this moment. He might as well give them a show, it’s what Bobby would want after all.
“Not as good as the view from up there,” Lena calls back, a little disgruntled.
“Maybe you should join me,” he replies dryly.
“You know what,” he hears Jonah sneer, “I think I will.”
“Here, Jonah,” the girl from District One — Veronica, he thinks he hears someone call her — says as she offers him the bow and sheath of arrows, “take this.”
Eddie’s jaw quivers as he zeroes in on the bow. The bow that should have been his the moment the games started. Anger, hot and deadly, like lava fills his veins and he wants to scream.
At himself for not getting them. At Buck, the Career cozying traitor, for distracting him long enough that his opportunity had been blown. Eddie tries to look at Buck again, but the boy is intentionally avoiding looking up at him now. Eddie doesn’t know why that hurts too.
“No,” Jonah says as he pushes away the bow, “I have my sword.”
“Yeah,” Eddie can’t stop the sharp bark of a laugh from leaving him, “throw the sword.”
Jonah snarls and starts up the tree. Eddie manages to scramble up another few feet before he hears a loud crack and Jonah is falling back to the ground.
He knows it’s too much to hope that Jonah breaks his neck on the way down.
Veronica tries next, aiming an arrow in Eddie’s direction as he continues to climb higher. It’d be laughable how bad she is with the bow if it didn’t make Eddie so infuriated. He could kill every single one of them if it were in his hands.
He can hear the Careers trying to regroup on the ground, growling and snapping at each other.
Finally, he hears Buck say, “Just let him stay up there,” his voice is harsh and cold, “it’s not like he has any place to go. We’ll deal with him in the morning.”
Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever heard Buck sound like that before. But maybe this is the real Evan Buckley. A mean and cunning boy hiding behind big blue eyes and a charming smile.
He doesn’t believe it, not really. Or maybe he just doesn’t want to.
This can’t be the same boy that gave him the bread. Or ducks his head when he’s being bashful. It can’t be the boy who knows so many random facts and looks at Eddie like he’s something worth looking at.
As the Careers mutter their agreement Eddie takes another moment to look down, watching as they begin to set up camp. Buck’s eyes are on him now. It’s just for a brief moment, something Eddie chalks up to feeling exhausted and dizzy, but Buck looks at him the way he did right before he gave Eddie the bread. The same way he did when they shook hands at the reaping. The same way he did when Buck said, Eddie, you’re not dying in that arena.
Eddie blinks and Buck is moving, helping the others get ready for the night. Eddie shakes his head and attempts to set up his own space to sleep as night quickly descends.
Now that he isn’t running for his life the spike of adrenaline crashes and he’s left feeling the full potency of his burns. Tears prick in the corner of his eyes, hands trembling as he looks down at his skin; red and angry and covered in painful blisters. He knows his leg is worse, but he doesn’t want to vomit again.
He doesn’t want to cry. He doesn’t want the Career pack to hear him. His chest begins to heave as he holds back his sobs. He’s trapped and hurt and he’s either going to starve up here or they’re going to drag him down and end him.
“I’m sorry, Chris,” Eddie mumbles through muffled sobs.
A quiet, beeping sound startles him and he looks up to see a silver canister floating down on a parachute. He quickly grabs it and nearly bursts into tears when he reads the little note from Bobby.
Apply generously and stay alive
He tucks the note into his pocket and settles back down against the tree branch, twisting open the metal cap. A thick almost translucent paste sits inside and even though he doesn’t know what it is he can guess what it’s for.
He’s smelled enough of his mom’s remedies to know it’s medicinal. He dips his fingers in, sighing in relief as it coats a few of the blisters. He rubs it on the nasty burn on his legs and lets the tears silently fall as he drops his head back against the tree.
“Thanks, Bobby.” He says aloud.
The pain is instantly gone and there’s nothing left, but a cooling sensation on his skin, like he’s traced his wounds with a piece of ice.
He wonders how much this cost to send him. How hard Bobby had to work to get enough sponsors to afford it. He can’t imagine it must have been easy, considering the star-crossed lover angle is all, but dead. Then again, he has no idea what’s going on in Buck’s head. What he’s been up to and what the audience can see.
From where Eddie’s standing they’re not even friends.
He shoves thoughts of Buck away. There’s not much either of them can do now. If Buck is really on his side it’s hardly a comfort considering they’re still outnumbered. And if the opposite were true — if Buck is trying to take Eddie out — well, Eddie won’t feel too sorry if Buck’s picture is blasted across the night sky.
He doesn’t remember falling asleep, but it must have happened pretty quickly. He blinks bleary eyes open to a grey sky, the morning sun not risen yet. The fire the Careers started last night has flickered out into a pile of glowing embers and the sound of soft snores floats across the breeze.
Eddie takes a moment to look at them. Their sleep-soft faces and the way their mouths curve down. They all look so young. Jonah is the oldest at eighteen if Eddie remembers correctly. Buck is just sixteen, Eddie’s age, and the others right in between.
For a moment it really hits Eddie how fucking horrible this all is. They’re just kids. Kids who had dreams and hopes and wishes that maybe weren’t warped and twisted by the Capitol.
He hears a quiet noise that doesn’t sound natural and his head snaps in the direction of a group of trees not too far from where he’s at.
He can’t help the small smile that curls against his lips when he spots Denny. Eddie wonders how long he’s been there, if he’d been there all night, but that thought quickly fades as Denny points to something just above Eddie’s head. Eddie follows the direction and freezes against the tree. Just a few feet up sits a giant wasp nest.
Tracker Jackers.
A Capitol mutation whose stings can be deadly. And if they don’t kill you the hallucinations from the venom can actually drive you mad.
He and Shannon have seen a few in the outskirts of Twelve, little landmines for the rebels that were left as a punishment for the Districts.
They’re quiet right now, subdued from the smoke if Eddie had to guess. He looks down and sees that the Careers and Buck are still sound asleep.
It’s now or never and this may be his only chance. He pulls out his knife and makes a sawing motion so that Denny can clearly see it. Denny nods his head and leaps across to the nearest tree. Eddie chuckles quietly as he watches Denny grow further and further away.
He takes a deep breath and quickly packs all of his supplies away, knowing he’s going to have to get out of there as quickly as possible once he drops the nest. He climbs a little high and rests his knife against the branch the nest is hanging from.
He can easily make out the bright gold of a tracker jacker lazily crawling across the papery grey surface. He doesn’t have a lot of time before they’re awake so he quickly gets to work.
Back and forth back and forth
There’s a sharp sting in his knee and Eddie grits his teeth as he works harder, the nest starting to buzz with life.
After a few more seconds the branch snaps and the nest falls through the air, cracking open like a deadly egg as it hits the ground.
Only a few of the tracker jackers manage to sting him, but the effect of their venom is immediate and Eddie feels a little dizzy as he tries to quickly get down from the tree. He’s met with chaos as he nears the ground. Most of the Careers and Buck are wide awake, dropping everything as they all scatter. He hears one of them yell, to the lake!
Veronica, the girl from District One, isn’t so lucky as she screams, falling to the ground writhing as the swarm descends upon her. When Eddie’s feet hit the dirt his knees start to give out, the venom making what little is left in his stomach twist to an unpleasant degree.
Everything around him seems to slow and the world becomes rounded and wonky like he’s been dropped in a fish bowl.
“Tracker Jacker venom can cause intense hallucinations,” Taylor’s voice cuts across the heavy fog in his brain, “and in some cases death.”
Eddie jerks back, tripping over a root, and stumbling to the ground as Taylor steps out from behind a tree. Her hair is bright, almost flickering flames, like the fire that chased him right into the path of the Careers.
She’s wearing a beautiful white dress that looks so out of place in the middle of the arena. She smiles all predatory like as she walks towards Eddie. He clumsily crawls backwards, his vision tunneling on her. He jumps when he hears the boom of the cannon.
“Eddie Diaz’s first kill,” she grins. “Do you think he realizes she’s the one with the bow?”
The bow.
Something like determination or the pure fucking will to survive surges through his veins and he gets to his feet. Taylor fades out of view, like a mirage dissolving into sand, as Eddie makes it to Veronica’s lifeless body.
She’s almost completely unrecognizable now. Bloated and red and spewing a foul, green liquid from the swollen sting sites. He has to break her puffy fingers just to get the bow. Each crack is like an electric shock down his spine, but he doesn’t stop.
If he stands any chance at winning then he needs this bow. Once he has it free he attempts to roll her over to get the sheath of arrows. Her skin dissingrates beneath his hands and he nearly vomits stomach acid all over her, but he somehow dislodges the sheath, flinging it over his back.
He gets to his feet, unsteady as the world tips and spins. His heart pounds so hard in his chest he’s pretty sure it’s cracked right through his sternum when he hears several pairs of footsteps heading in his direction. He doesn’t think he has time to run so he pulls a slimy arrow from the sheath and tries to position it on the string.
“Fuck!” He yells, as the bow string becomes three.
He can’t do this. He can’t do this. He can’t do this.
Someone crashes through the brush and Eddie braces himself for the blow, but all he’s met with is the absolute look of shock on Buck’s face as the boy drops his arms, eyes so wide and blue
Eddie thinks he might be drowning in them. Eddie just waits. Waits for Buck to do it. To end him. To finally get his biggest threat Eddie Diaz the Boy on Fire out of the way.
But it never comes.
Buck’s look of shock melts away into fear and devastation.
“What are you still doing here?” Buck asks as he drops his spear. Water trickles down his face, drips softly from his hair, and Eddie has the most absurd thought to ask Buck if he knows how beautiful he is. “Run!”
“What?” Eddie blinks as he stares at Buck. He can see his mouth moving, but there’s no sound. Just a faint, buzzing that is throwing Eddie off balance. “Buck?”
“Eddie!” Buck looks frantic now as he takes a step forward, shoving at Eddie. “Run, please! Get out of here!”
Buck’s voice, hoarse and desperate, hits Eddie’s senses all at once as Buck shoves him again.
“You have to go!” He says, begs, pleads, “You have to go now!”
Eddie frowns, reaching out as he murmurs, “Buck.”
“Run!” Buck screams just as Jonah bursts through a bush.
Eddie doesn’t think twice as he turns and takes off through the woods. He looks back, just for a moment, as Jonah starts after him, but Buck intercepts, using his spear to block a deadly blow.
There’s a terrible cry of pain that rips right through his chest and a gutted scream that he thinks might be his own. The world continues to shift and Eddie knows he doesn’t have a lot of time before he falls into unconsciousness.
He trips and falls into a patch of wildflowers and thinks there are worse places to die.
Buck just saved my life.
It’s the last, rational thought his brain gives him before he blacks out.
“We could do it, you know.”
Eddie looks up from the tuft of grass he lazily glides his fingers through. Shannon is looking out into the distance, eyes narrowed on the mountains and rolling hills, lush and green and beautiful.
“What?”
“Leave the district,” Shannon murmurs, barely loud enough for Eddie to hear. “Run off. Live in the woods. You and I,” she turns to face Eddie now, eyes wide and wanting, “we could make it.”
Eddie opens his mouth, but no words come out. Shannon just looks at him, waits for him to respond. He’s afraid of disappointing her, but he doesn’t know what to say.
The sound of pounding footsteps startles both of them and they turn just in time to see Buck burst through a bush, face swollen and bruised, his chest heaving.
“What are you still doing here?” He asks as blood trickles down his nose. “You need to run!”
Eddie looks to Shannon, but she’s gone and suddenly it’s so dark and the only light source is the boom firing from explosions sounding off in the distance. Buck is illuminated in a bright orange and yellow glow just like he was when the chariots pulled them through the streets of the Capitol.
“Eddie,” Buck yells, “Run!”
Eddie jerks awake, every muscle stiff and aching from lack of use. He blinks a few times, the afternoon heat cut by the shade of the deciduous trees he’s currently under.
Sweat trickles down the back of his neck and moving feels like a herculean effort, but he manages to slowly sit up. Something sour and awful sits in his mouth and it takes a few swigs of water just to rinse the taste out. He wonders how long he’s been out considering the tracker jacker incident happened at dawn.
He presses the heel of his palms into his eyes as a headache (from hunger, dehydration, or the leftover effects of the venom) throbs annoying against his skull. He needs to get moving and refill his water bottle, maybe find something to eat.
He doesn’t know why he dreamed of Shannon. The moment they sat out in the field the morning of the Reaping. She told Eddie they shouldn’t watch. That if everyone in Panem stopped watching maybe there wouldn’t be a game at all. Eddie scoffed at the idea. It was never really a choice.
Then she asked Eddie to run away with her.
It wasn’t the first time Eddie had thought about it, but it was a fleeting thing. Even if he and Shannon did make it out of Twelve and somehow found a place to hide he’d be leaving his family behind.
Eddie couldn’t do that. He couldn’t leave Chris or his sisters and there was no way they’d be able to survive out in the woods. Eddie chuckles a little humorlessly thinking about where he is now.
And then there was Buck.
He’s not quite sure whether Buck was really real or if it was just a hallucination. But his desperation and fear sounded real. His cry of pain as Eddie sprinted away sounded real too.
Suddenly, like a wave crashing against the shore Eddie feels a deep, deep sorrow overcome him. He doesn’t know if Buck is alive and the thought of losing him even after everything terrifies Eddie. He saved Eddie. He just wished he knew what was going on in Buck’s head.
He wonders what Shannon thinks of Buck.
He immediately pushes that thought away as he rolls his shoulders. Buck and Shannon do not coexist well together in his thoughts.
He turns, instead, towards his newly acquired bow and arrows. For the first time maybe since the games began Eddie manages a real smile. He knows that there’s a good chance that some of the Careers survived, but now he has a weapon, something he knows how to use.
If Jonah were to burst through the treeline right now Eddie wouldn’t run; he’d shoot.
The prey finally becomes the predator.
He packs up his stuff and starts off to find water. He takes his time when he finds a small stream, cleaning his clothes and drinking as much as his stomach will allow. He manages to kill a wild turkey and a rabbit before he starts a small fire to cook the meat.
Once he’s cleaned and plucked his kills he sets it over the hot coals, the sound of a snapping twig swinging him into motion. He has an arrow pointed in the direction of the noise, but he can’t see anyone.
He keeps his eyes hard on the foliage and finally, he spots the tip of a child’s boot. His shoulders relax and he grins.
“Denny,” he says, soft and quiet, like he talks to Chris when the boy wakes from a nightmare, “the Careers aren’t the only ones that can form alliances you know.”
A tuft of brown, curly hair pokes out from behind the tree as Denny watches him with wide, wide eyes. “You want me for an ally?”
“You saved me with the tracker jackers back there,” Eddie just shrugs, “and you’re smart enough to still be alive.” Denny doesn’t move, just continues to watch Eddie from where he’s standing and it makes Eddie ache something fierce, how much the boy reminds him of Chris.
“You hungry? I’ve got food to share.”
“I can fix your stings,” he says shyly as he finally steps out from behind the tree.
“Can you?” He asks, trying to keep his voice casual, but the idea of taking another pain away is tempting. “How?”
He digs into his pocket and pulls out a handful of leaves, showing them to Eddie with a small smile. “I found these,” he explains, “we carry them around all the time back at home. We have lots of tracker jacker nests in our district.”
“District Eleven, right?” Eddie asks as he remembers Buck rambling about the different kinds of breads that filled their baskets at lunch time when they were in the training room. “Agricultural?”
Denny just nods his head. “I work in the Orchards.”
“Must be why you can fly around the trees like you have wings,” Eddie says and is rewarded with a bright smile from Denny.
They move to sit by the fire and Eddie rolls up his pants leg to show Denny the sting on his knee. Denny places a handful of leaves in his mouth and chews on them for a moment before he pulls out the green mass and places it against the sting.
Eddie thinks it’s a little gross until he actually feels the pain leaching from the sting, an unprompted Oooh spilling from his lips before he can stop it.
“You really want me for an ally?” Denny asks once he’s finished with the rest of Eddie’s stings.
“I do,” Eddie nods as he cooks the meat.
“Okay,” Denny smiles as he holds out his hand for Eddie to shake, “deal.”
Eddie tries not to let his smile fall from his face, knowing that this kind of deal can only be temporary.
They chat about their districts and Eddie learns how different Eleven is than Twelve. How much stricter their rules are and how much more severe the punishments are for rule breaking. Eddie doesn’t remember the last time there was a public whipping.
He and Shannon could technically be whipped for going past the boundaries of Twelve, but being a poorer district ignored by the Capitol has its advantages. One of the things they do have in common is the terrible treatment of the people who work and live there.
Eddie wouldn’t be surprised to learn if it were the same around the country. He bets that they’re not even airing their conversation. Keeping the districts separate and a mystery to each other is an easy way to keep them from uniting against the Capitol.
It’s not until they’re tucked up in a tree together as night falls swiftly over the arena and the anthem has played with no reports of deaths for the evening does Eddie finally ask.
“Denny,” he tries to keep his voice steady, “I only woke up today and I’m not sure how many nights I’ve missed.”
“Just two,” Denny answers as he looks at Eddie with those wide, brown eyes, “The girls from District One and Four are dead.”
Eddie closes his eyes for a brief moment, something deeply rooted and unnamable roars to life like a fire in his chest. Warm and flickering like a hearth in a home.
Buck is still alive. Buck is still alive.
“You know the other boy from my district?” Eddie asks, “Buck? I think he saved my life, but I’m not so sure since he was with the Careers.”
“He’s not anymore.” Denny says. “I’ve spied on their basecamp by the lake. They made it back before they collapsed from the stingers, but he wasn’t with them.” Denny tilts his head to the side. “Maybe he did save you and had to run away.”
“It’s probably just all part of the star-crossed lover act,” Eddie tries to say with an air of indifference and a roll of his eyes, but his gut twists as he says the words. “People think he’s in love with me.”
“Oh,” Denny says earnestly, “I don’t think it’s an act.”
Eddie feels a blush creep across his cheeks. It can’t be real. Buck is just pretending. He’s playing his part. Eddie remembers thinking about how Buck is the most dangerous player in the game.
Well, now Eddie is dangerous too.
“You said the Careers have a basecamp by the lake?” He asks, wanting to pivot away from Buck and all the messy and complicated feelings the boy with baby blue eyes stirs in Eddie.
“They’re strong,” Denny says with a frown, “they have all the supplies piled up.”
Eddie feels a spark igniting in his veins. “What if they didn’t? Do you think they’d be able to survive without them?”
Denny shakes his head, “No, probably not.”
“Then I say it’s time we even the odds,” Eddie says as a plan begins to rapidly formulate in his mind, “and take out their supplies. Let the real hunger games begin.”
“Okay,” Eddie says as he lays the last branch down on the pile, “you’ll have to move quickly after you light this.”
Denny just nods his head, shifting nervously on his feet. They’ve gone over the plan until they could both recite it in their sleep.
Denny will light a series of three fires drawing the Career pack further and further away while Eddie sneaks off to the lake to figure out how to destroy their food supply.
Eddie hasn’t quite figured out that part yet, but he supposes there could be a canister of gasoline or something else that could help him burn it down.
“We should have a signal,” Denny says after a moment, “to let each other know we’re okay.”
“You got something in mind?” Eddie asks with fond amusement.
Denny reminds him so much of Christopher it makes something fierce and terrible ache in his bones. He remembers watching the reaping in Eleven. How Denny’s name was called; a boy just twelve years old walking up the stairs all by himself.
There was no one to volunteer for him. Wide innocent eyes and a smile that still clung to boyish innocence despite the hardships of the world. Denny catches his St. Christopher necklace resting against his chest, the pendant twisted so the mockingjay symbol was visible. Denny’s eyes brighten as he eagerly grins up at Eddie.
“Watch this,” he says as he turns towards the forest canopy.
He sings a four note melody and Eddie is momentarily surprised to hear the call of mockingjays echoing in the air. It’s a beautiful sound and something warm fills Eddie as he watches birds flit from branch to branch until Denny’s song fades out and it grows quiet once more.
“You try.” Denny says with a pleased smile.
Eddie licks his lips and whistles the four notes. The mockingjays are quick to copy him and for a moment both he and Denny let their song fill them with laughter as the sun filters in pleasantly through the canopy.
He looks at Denny and his heart pounds in his chest — hard and painful like a warning.
Only one can go home
It’s a thought that always, always, sits in the back of his mind. A reminder that feels like a knife slicing between his ribs because Eddie wants to live. He wants to go home so, so badly.
But he doesn’t want Denny to die. He doesn’t want to lose Buck. How can only one go home when Eddie feels tied to not just one, but two other people in the arena?
He’s suddenly terrified to leave Denny alone. What if Denny gets killed? What if he and Denny and Buck are the last three to survive? How do they choose then? He can’t leave Christoper—
No. Christopher has his family and Shannon. Denny doesn’t have anyone in here. Neither does Buck. They only have Eddie.
“I’ll see you at dinner, okay?” Eddie croaks, his voice betraying some of his concern.
Denny throws his arms around Eddie, holding onto him so tightly Eddie finds it a little hard to breathe. He only hesitates for a second before he wraps Denny up in a hug.
“Be careful,” Denny whispers.
“You too,” Eddie offers him a smile before ruffling his hair like he does for Christopher.
Denny ducks out of it, grinning, but it slowly slips away as they look at each other for another long moment. Eddie takes in a deep breath and heads toward the stream that will lead him down to the lake.
He only looks back once, but Denny is already gone. Eddie knows he needs to be cautious as he moves down the river, but his thoughts keep drifting back off to Buck.
“Oh I don’t think that was an act.”
Eddie can’t wrap his fucking head around. What’s real and what’s not. How much of it is an act and how much Buck actually feels towards Eddie.
He remembers Buck’s scream of pain moments after Eddie saw him stop Jonah. If Buck’s been protecting him this whole time that seems like a hell of a commitment just for the audience’s sake.
Eddie doesn’t think they could ever be called friends in their time together before the games. Their lives intertwined by long, shared glances, and a moment in the rain with a piece of bread that saved Eddie’s life.
He tucks Buck into the back of his mind as he nears the lake, sneaking into a small grouping of trees Denny told him about that is the perfect place to hide. It’s right at the edge of the woods, but camouflaged by bushy foliage that allows Eddie to spy on the Careers without being spotted.
He can easily spot Lena and Jonah and the boy from District One. There’s another boy, sitting just outside the Career inner circle that Eddie has no remembrance of from his time in the Capitol.
Something prickles in the back of Eddie’s mind. Why would they let this boy live? What possible value could he have to them? To merely guard their supplies?
A sense of unease settles over Eddie as he turns his gaze to the large pile of supplies stacked in the field, the Cornucopia in the distance.
His brow furrows as he looks at the set up. Everything is piled into a pyramid with a few supplies scattered around the perimeter like at the beginning of the games. A large net sits over the supplies, as if it's sheltering it from things that may fall on top of the pile.
The most perplexing thing of all, though, is its distance from the Careers camp. Something isn’t right, but Eddie can’t quite figure out what.
The possibilities of traps are endless and the more Eddie sits and thinks about it the more daunting the task becomes.
Jonah’s shout startles Eddie where he’s sitting and he looks up to see a thin line of smoke from where he and Denny set up their first fire. He watches the Careers gather up their weapons as an argument breaks out between them. Eddie can just make out what they’re saying as he shrinks back into the cover of trees as a precaution.
“He’s coming with us,” Lena says as she points to the extra boy, “we need him in the woods.”
“Besides,” she says with a sly grin that makes Eddie shiver, “he did his job, no one can touch those supplies.”
“What about Lover Boy?” The boy from District One asks with a raised eyebrow.
“Don’t worry about him,” Jonah sneers, “I know where I cut him and it’s a miracle he hasn’t bled to death yet.”
Eddie’s heart sinks. Buck is out there somewhere injured and maybe nearing death’s door. Any relief he felt at knowing Buck is alive is slowly sinking away. If Buck is badly hurt there’s probably a low chance that he’ll be able to get himself food or water. If hunger and dehydration don’t get him then infection surely will.
“Come on,” Jonah says as he thrust a spear into the other boy’s hand, “when we find him I get to kill him my own way with no interference.”
Eddie knows Jonah isn’t talking about Denny or Buck.
Eddie sits and stares at the pyramid for several minutes trying to figure it out. He can hear Bobby in the back of his head, wait, watch, and listen.
Eddie huffs in annoyance, but doesn’t move.
He’s not sure if he has many options left and time is certainly not on his side. Just as he’s about to move he sees someone emerge from the woods about a hundred yards away. Foxface.
The girl from District Five with red hair, softer than Taylor’s Capitol created color, but it reminds Eddie of the flames that he and Buck wore in the parade. He sits back and watches as she takes quick, small steps towards the pyramid. When she gets near the circle of supplies she does a strange little dance. Careful steps and hops as she moves across to the pile.
She overshoots a jump and lands on the ground with a terrified squeal. Eddie freezes and for a moment they both sit in dead silence before she quickly gets up, sighing in relief and keeps moving.
It’s bizarre and perplexing, but it definitely confirms what Eddie’s been thinking. There must be some sort of trap set up around the supplies.
He watches as she fills her bag with small samples of food from different containers. Not enough to raise suspicion, but a piece of bread here, a small bundle of cheese. She grabs a couple of apples from a burlap sack hanging precariously on a rope on the side of a bin and then carefully makes her way back down the pile. She follows the exact same path and is off scampering back into the woods, safe and sound, moments later.
Eddie doesn’t realize he’s grinding his teeth in frustration until his jaw begins to ache. He rolls his shoulders and tries to think. How complicated can this trap be? And why did she look so utterly terrified when she made contact with the ground? Like it was going to explode if she….
“It’s a minefield,” Eddie says aloud.
Bingo, he hears Bobby say.
He looks across at the platforms they all stood on before the games began. Each one has a pile of dirt next to it and suddenly everything clicks into place. The boy from District Three must have been able to reactivate the bombs that keep you glued to your platform before the sixty-seconds are up.
He snorts at the thought of the Gamemakers faces as they watched this boy do something no one else has ever done before in the games.
It just takes a little bit of pressure, Eddie knows, and maybe he can set off a chain reaction. He doesn’t want to get too close and blow himself to bits, but he’s not really sure what else he can do besides maybe trying to chuck a few rocks from where he’s safely hidden.
Eddie’s amazing, Buck’s voice rings in his head. He can perfectly remember Buck rambling on about what an amazing shot Eddie is and that’s when something else crosses Eddie’s mind, one word that still sounds like Buck. Apples.
The bag of apples hanging off of the bin that Foxface took from. If Eddie can hit the bag, tear it open then it might just be enough to set off the bombs.
Eddie grins and gets into position. He can see the smoke from Denny’s second fire in the distance and he knows the Careers will soon realize something is up.
The first arrow makes a nice rip in the bag. The second arrow widens in. The third arrow completely knocks it open and the apples scatter to the ground.
For a moment nothing happens and then suddenly, Eddie is being blown back into the air.
He hits the ground, hard, and there’s a ringing in his ears that tunes every other sound out around him. He feels like he’s moving in slow motion as the earth beneath him vibrates with fury., but he has enough foresite to shield his face as debris rains down around him.
After a minute it all finally stops. His ears are still ringing, the left one worse as noise begins to filter in through his right.
He gingerly reaches a hand up and his fingers come away bloody. His left ear was facing closer to the blast. The thought of losing his hearing, even in just one ear, terrifies him, but there’s nothing he can do about it now.
He takes a moment to look at the ruin of supplies and he feels some satisfaction knowing that there will be no salvaging anything.
He tries to get to his feet, but the world spins and he immediately falls back onto his knees. He knows he needs to get the fuck out of there, the Careers will be back any second now that the explosion was probably heard from around the arena.
He doesn’t think he can run though, so he crawls back towards his hiding spot. If Jonah finds him not only will Eddie surely be dead, but it will be a very long, painful, and drawn out one.
The idea of Christopher watching Eddie be tortured to death keeps him moving. A few more blasts from stray mines go off, but Eddie rolls into the cover of trees just as Jonah comes barreling through the woods and out onto the plain.
Lena and the boys from One and Three soon follow, but their shocked cries pale in comparison to the absolute fit of rage Jonah is throwing. The Careers are too close to the hideout and Eddie bites down on his cheek so hard he tastes blood. He doesn’t dare move as they inch closer to the wreckage.
Jonah has finally quieted and Eddie has to tilt his head so he can listen with his good ear. The others are poking around, trying to find things to salvage, but the Boy from District Three has done his job too well.
Eddie can see that thought crossing Jonah’s face at the same time Eddie thinks it and he has a feeling he knows what is about to happen. The boy from District Three doesn’t have any time to run before Jonah has him in a headlock, snapping his neck like it’s a twig.
Eddie stifles his gasp in his arm.
Jonah yells something about going into the woods, but Lena and the boy from One are pointing at the pile and Eddie thinks they might be telling him that whoever set it off is surely dead.
Eddie lets a small sense of relief flood him as he presses his cheek into the cool soil. They don’t know that he can shoot. They don’t know that he dropped a bag of apples on their chance of surviving long term in the arena.
They retreat to their camp and Eddie shifts into a more comfortable position knowing there’s no chance he can sneak away with the Careers so close by.
Stay alive, Bobby’s voice says and Eddie can’t help the small thumbs up he gives, knowing some sort of camera will probably catch it. He hopes Bobby is watching. He hopes Bobby knows he’s following his advice as best he can.
When night falls the anthem plays and the sky is brightened by the pictures of the boys from District Three and Ten. Eddie feels tears pricking in the corner of his eyes.
Denny and Buck are still alive. They’re still fighting and surviving and living for another day.
Unfortunately, this means the Careers now know the bomber is still alive as the boy from Ten died earlier this morning. At least they must think the bomber has a few hours start on them, so Eddie is as safe as he can be tucked in his little hiding spot.
He watches the Careers slip off, no doubt going on a hunt. Eddie shivers against the cold and pulls his jacket around him tighter. The foliage provides some cover, but he really wishes he had his sleeping bag right now.
He’s glad Denny has it though, and hopes the boy is up in a tree somewhere, tucked in and safe for the night. He’ll know that Eddie is still alive and for now that will have to be enough.
As Eddie eats from his stash of roots and berries, he goes over everyone that is left. The boy from One, both from Two, Foxface, and both from Eleven and Twelve.
At this point friends and family of the tributes left are usually interviewed. He can imagine how popular Christopher is with the people of the Capitol. If they even like Eddie a little then they’ll love Christopher. Charming and smart and kind.
He reminds Eddie of Buck. Buck who is out there somewhere hurt and alone. But, his heart is still beating and that’s all that matters.
Only one can go home
Eddie pushes that thought away as he closes his eyes. At the very least he’s helped elevate their chances.
Let the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games begin, Jonah, Eddie thinks as he drifts off to sleep. Let them begin for real.
When Eddie wakes it’s early morning, the sun barely peeking over the horizon. He can still catch a faint whiff of smoke and the sour stench of burnt plastic that leaves a permanent haze over the wreckage laid before him.
The Careers are still gone, their camp quiet and given the appearance of abandonment. Eddie knows they’ll come back eventually. Even if there isn’t any food to spare, the lake at least is a continuous source of freshwater.
The ringing in his ears has subsided, although he can’t hear out of the left side at all. He tries not to let the panic sink in. His right ear is working just fine and that will have to do for now.
He slowly sits up and when he’s not hit with a wave of dizziness or nausea he gingerly gets to his feet. His entire body aches almost unbearably and he knows if he lifts his shirt he’ll find a nice splotching of bruises, but he’s alive and he can walk and shoot.
That’s all he needs to survive.
He slowly backs away into the woods, heading towards the spot where he and Denny first teamed up. They agreed to meet here after the task of blowing up the food was done and Eddie feels light and hopeful as he walks through the sunspots spilling down from the canopy.
For the first time since the games began, Eddie thinks he might actually stand a chance of going home. And if not him then Denny or maybe even Buck. One of them could win. One of them can win and Eddie’s going to make damn sure they’re the ones at the end of it all.
He whistles out Denny’s song and smiles softly when he hears the mockingjays pick it up, carrying it out across the trees. It fades out after a few moments and Eddie’s smile fades as he comes to a stop. Denny should be responding back. He tries again, a little louder and a little more insistent. The mockingjays echo him, but there is no answer in return.
Fear, like a vice grip, wraps around Eddie’s heart and for a moment he’s rooted to the spot.
Then, he hears a scream, and he knows the only person capable of making that sound is Denny. Eddie feels the entire earth drop out from beneath him as he takes off in a dead sprint.
He doesn’t care if it’s a trap. He doesn’t care if the Careers are waiting to ambush him. He needs to get to Denny. He needs to get to Denny. He needs to get to—
“Eddie!” Denny yells, absolutely terrified, “Eddie!”
“Denny!” Eddie hollers back before he can stop himself.
He doesn’t care if Bobby would scold him for giving his position away or that he’s just let the Careers know he’s running right into their trap.
He can’t let Denny think he’s been abandoned. He needs Denny to know that he’s close, that he’s coming to save him.
He breaks through a line of trees and stumbles over to where Denny is pinned to the ground by a net. Eddie only takes a moment to look around before he pulls his knife from his belt and cuts Denny free. Denny crashes into his arms, crying as he holds onto Eddie tightly.
“You’re okay,” Eddie says, his chest heaving as he fights off tears, “you’re okay.”
A sharp snap of a tree branch and Denny’s horrified gasp gives Eddie just enough time to turn and see the boy from District One. Everything happens too fast. The boy throws a spear as Eddie moves and sinks an arrow into his throat before he can come any closer. It’s over in an instant and Eddie blinks down at the dead body as a cannon fires in the distance.
“It’s okay Denny,” Eddie turns back towards the younger boy, “we’re safe—”
Eddie’s heart jumps in his throat as he watches Denny’s small, slender fingers wrap around the spear protruding from his chest.
Everything feels wrong wrong wrong and Eddie wants to scream and cry and rip the arena apart as Denny pulls the spear out, a steady stream of blood darkening his shirt.
“No,” Eddie croaks as he catches Denny in his arms, “No. No. No. No.”
His hands shake as they hover over Denny’s wound. He doesn’t know how to fix this. Doesn’t think he can.
He doesn’t have the hands of a healer. He’s no good. No fucking good.
A sob breaks out of him, ugly and raw, as he carefully rocks Denny in his arms.
“You have to win,” Denny whispers as he grabs onto Eddie’s jacket, “you have to win, Eddie.”
“I will,” Eddie says, nodding his head. He can feel where his St. Christopher's necklace is pressing beneath his shirt. The mockingjay symbol searing his skin. “I promise, for both of us.”
Denny gives him a wet smile, his eyes so wide and scared. “Don’t go.”
“I’m staying right here,” Eddie says through another sob that tears through his throat.
“Sing?” Denny asks, his voice barely above a whisper.
Sing.
He doesn’t know what to sing. Doesn’t know if he can.
It’s been so long since he’s allowed himself the joy of music; only indulges Christopher when he’s sick or Shannon when they’re out in the woods.
His throat is rough and dry, but if this is what Christopher — Denny — wants, then how can Eddie possibly say no? He clears his throat, and starts singing Christopher’s favorite song he uses to rock the boy back to sleep after a nightmare.
His voice is shaky and quiet, tears streaming down his face, but he manages to get the song out. He watches Denny’s eyes flutter close, his chest no longer rising.
Eddie squeezes his eyes shut as Denny’s cannon fires, the last lines of the song floating up to the mockingjays in the treetops. He leans down and kisses the top of Denny’s forehead before he lays the boy down in the grass.
He gets up, his entire body trembling and turns his attention to the boy from District One. It would be easy to hate him, but looking at him now it doesn’t feel right. He looks just as vulnerable as Denny does.
No, it’s the Capitol Eddie hates. He can hear Shannon now, ranting and raging about the cruelty and injustice of it all. Shannon’s right. It’s unfair. All of it. The Capitol is the only one that wins every time.
He wants to do something, something, but how could he possibly take revenge on a place that holds so much power?
I don’t want them to change me in there. Make me some kind of monster that I’m not. I don’t want to be a piece in their game.
Eddie suddenly thinks of Buck. Of their conversation on the roof.
For the first time Eddie finally understands what Buck meant. He doesn’t want to be a piece in their game. He doesn’t want Denny to be either. Because even though only one comes out Denny meant something to him. Denny was his friend.
He finds a field of wildflowers not too far away; blossoms of purple, yellow, and pink. Eddie picks the flowers, focusing on the task at hand, putting one foot in front of each other.
Once he has enough, he moves back towards Denny’s body and carefully, one stem at a time, places the flowers around the boy who looks like he could merely be sleeping. He’s never really been good at this sort of thing, knows Buck is the true artist between them with the way he paints and decorates cakes, but Eddie can practically feel Buck’s smile as he continues to weave flowers through Denny’s hair.
You’re a natural, Buck would say, the colors look like the beginnings of a sunset.
When he’s done he rocks back on his heels and looks down at Denny. Peaceful. He looks at peace. Eddie forces himself to stand hastily wiping at his eyes. He presses his three middle fingers to his lips before holding them out in Denny’s direction.
It means thanks, it means admiration, it means goodbye to someone you love.
Eddie turns and doesn’t look back as he heads into the woods. He hears the warning signal from the mockingjays before the mechanical whirling of the hovercraft dipping into the sky.
The boy from District One is gone. Denny is gone. Eddie only makes it a few more steps forward before everything, everything, boils over.
He screams, his fist colliding with the rough bark of trees. His nails dig into the earth, scraping up rocks and soil, flinging them into the brush. He takes the spear that impaled Denny and smashes it to pieces. He lets all of his rage and anger go until his throat burns and he collapses to the ground in exhaustion.
He carefully angles himself against a tree, bow in hand just in case. Some dangerous, dark part of him wants Jonah and Lena to come bursting through the trees so he can sink his arrows into them too.
His sits, chest heaving, and the anger fades as the sweet smell of honeysuckle and blackberries fills his lungs.
How different can it be, really?
Shannon’s voice fills his head. He thinks about how easy it was to kill the boy from One. How the motions were practiced and the execution amazing similar to hunting an animal.
Eddie has to choke down the acidic taste of bile. That boy had friends and a family too. Eddie closes his eyes and lets his head fall back against the bark. His knuckles ache, blood trickling down his skin.
He wants to go home. He wants to wrap Christopher in his arms and hear his sister's laughter and drink his mother’s ginger tea. He wants to sit out in the prairies with Shannon and eat his Abuela’s tamales. He wants to see Buck alive and safe and out of the arena where they both get to see the stars as they twinkle over District Twelve.
A soft sound nearly startles him into a crouch, hands tightening around his bow. He blinks a few times in the fading twilight and looks down at the parachute nestling a loaf of bread.
“Dark grain in the shape of a crescent moon,” Buck grins as he holds it up for Eddie to see, “sprinkled with seeds. They make this in District Eleven.”
Eddie gives him an amused smile as Buck breaks it in half and hands him the bigger piece. “Am I supposed to be impressed that you know so much about other Districts' bread?” His tone is light and teasing and he bursts into a laugh as Buck splutters.
“Thank you,” Eddie whispers, cradling the warm piece of bread between his hands as he looks out into the wilderness, knowing a camera is probably on him at this moment, “Thank you District Eleven.”
Eddie wants them to know he knows where it came from. That he understands what it means to get a gift like this so late in the games. He can’t imagine what it would have cost the people of District Eleven. He doesn’t know if it’s their way of saying thank you or repaying a debt, something Eddie knows all too well.
Either way, a gift from a District that is not your own is unheard of. He can only imagine how upset President Gerrard is at the action and Eddie allows himself a small smile before he carefully tears the loaf in half.
He has to win. For Christopher. For Denny. For himself. It seems almost imperative now. Something sharp and deadly twists in his chest, right where his heart is. Only one can go home and that means Eddie is going to have to face the very ugly truth of losing Buck. The thought is almost too much for Eddie to bear right now.
“Attention Tributes,” Taylor Kelly’s voice rings out across the arena, “there has been a rule change.”
Eddie sits up, his heart beating against his chest. A rule change. That has never been done before. He wonders what it could be.
“Both tributes from the same district will be declared winners if they are the last two victors remaining,” Taylor sings out, tone dripping with drama and excitement. “May the odds be ever in your favor.”
Two tributes can win.
Two tributes can go home.
For so long Eddie’s been focused on just one. Only one. But now.
Now.
“Both of us can live,” Eddie whispers, the words sinking in as tears spring to his eye, “both of us can go home.”
He looks up and for the first time his chest bursts with hope so strong he can practically feel it pulling him in a direction he knows will lead him straight to…
“Buck.”
Eddie feels dizzy, head spiraling with so many thoughts he forces himself to breath in through his nose and out through his mouth.
He needs to find Buck. He needs to find Buck. He needs to find Buck.
Buck who has been his ally all along. Buck who has protected him. Saved him. He told Eddie not to run towards the Cornucopia. He fought off Jonah so Eddie could escape. Hell, he probably joined the Careers just so he could somehow keep Eddie safe.
Buck has been completely and wholly Eddie’s this entire time.
The star-crossed lovers from District Twelve
Changing the rules is next to impossible, unheard of in all the years the games have been around. Whatever Buck’s doing it’s enough that the success of the games hinges on their romance. Eddie can picture it now; the people of the Capitol rooting for true love. Oh how popular they must be.
And Eddie’s done what? Not kill Buck?
He digs his nails into the soft parts of his palms, biting back a grimace. He’s thought about Buck every single night in the arena. Every time his picture hasn’t flashed across the sky, a sense of relief like a flood bursting through a dam, even when he was angry at Buck.
He’s never, truly wanted Buck to die. The thought alone feels like a knife carving up his insides, just to scoop everything out and leave him hollow.
Is that how Buck feels about Eddie?
Buck has always been the better performer. Even when it’s just the two of them. Eddie can’t tell if the lines have blurred between performance and reality.
His private smiles and the way his eyes crinkle in the corner. The rosy flush that dusts his cheeks when he ducks his head as if Eddie is the most interesting person in the entire world. Buck cares about him, Eddie knows that for certain. But Buck can’t really be in love with Eddie, can he?
The thought of Buck’s feelings just makes him more sick and lightheaded. He doesn’t dare look at his own. Whatever happens, he and Buck are in this together, and if they make it to the end they will carry the games with them for the rest of their lives.
Eddie’s not quite sure if the swirling, aching emotions trapped in the space between his ribs is love or like or just the desperate need for both of them to survive.
Eddie pushes all of it down, down, down. Finding Buck is the only thing that matters right now. He knows Buck is injured and is probably camping near a water source. Eddie immediately rules out the lake considering that’s where the Careers are still held up even if their supplies are gone. His best bet is to follow the stream that’s not too far from where he and Denny have been camping the past few days.
Hold on Buck, Eddie thinks as he gets to his feet, readying himself for anything the arena could throw at him, I’m coming for you.
He moves slower than he’d like, especially because the possibility of finding Buck barely clinging to life is a very real possibility, but he doesn’t want to risk being ambushed by Jonah and Lena who have surely re-enforced their pack as the only other two tributes that the rule change has benefitted.
The sun is hot and blazing and Eddie distantly wonders if they’re purposely making it hotter with each passing day. The stream is cool and refreshing and the urge to call out Buck’s name sits on the tip of his tongue, but he swallows the sound and keeps moving.
Eddie remembers their last moment together. Buck, glowing with water droplets in his hair, making the curls kiss the top of his forehead, blue eyes so wide and scared as he begged Eddie to run.
Buck must know Eddie is looking for him, right? He hates the thought of Buck alone and hurt, terrified that Eddie has abandoned him.
Eddie shakes his head and redoubles his efforts, eyes like a hawk as he scans the banks for any signs of Buck. His breath catches in his throat when he sees it; a smeary of crimson caked on a rock, dried but definitely blood.
Eddie brushes his thumb just above the mark, his heart beating in his chest. He continues on, following a trail of bloodstains in the bright, afternoon sun. Fear begins to wrap around Eddie’s heart like a vice grip. What if Buck is unconscious and Eddie walks right past him? His only solace is that he hasn’t heard the sound of a cannon yet.
Buck is still alive. Buck is still alive. Buck is still alive—
“Eddie?”
Eddie stops, heart in his throat now as he turns his good ear towards the sound. He can’t stop the prick of tears in the corner of his eyes. The voice is hoarse and weak, but he would recognize it anywhere.
“Buck?” He whispers. “Where are you?”
“Here.” Buck murmurs and Eddie nearly stumbles backwards as those beautiful blue eyes blink open just next to him.
He’s beneath mud and leaves and weeds and Eddie would have never found him because the camouflage is so good. It’s a miracle he was standing right next to Buck. All of this must be evident on Eddie’s face as Buck laughs, a dry thing, but it sounds like music to Eddie’s ears and he has the absurd urge to kiss Buck right there.
“Knew you’d find me,” Buck murmurs, his eyes fluttering close again.
“Of course I did,” Eddie replies, voice breaking, he clears his throat and tries to pull himself together, “we’re on the same team now, you know.”
Baby blue peers up at him again and despite everything Buck throws him a grin that reminds Eddie of the sun peeking out behind dark clouds. “So I’ve heard,” he says, but makes no effort to move. Eddie is suddenly terrified that he can’t.
“I saw you fighting off Jonah,” Eddie says softly as he kneels down to give Buck a drink of his water, “did he hurt you?”
“Cut my left leg pretty badly,” Buck grimaces and Eddie can tell he’s trying not to show how much pain he’s actually in.
“Okay.” Eddie replies and he can’t help, but reach out and brush his fingers through the matted curls, smiling as Buck relaxes just a little. “Let’s get you into the stream so I can rinse you off and see what we’re dealing with.”
Getting Buck out of the mud is much harder than Eddie anticipated. Buck is weak and clearly hurting a great deal. The most he can really do is not resist Eddie pulling him out. Something sharp and jagged drags across Eddie’s sternum as gutted cries of pain slip out of Buck.
He tries to bite down on his lip to keep them quiet, but Eddie doesn’t miss the trek of tears streaming down his face. They’re only two feet from the edge at most and as Eddie guides him closer Buck makes such a horrible sound that Eddie nearly drops him, his hands trembling.
“Sorry,” Eddie says and the heartbreak is evident in his tone, “Buck, we’re almost there.”
“I’m fine.” Buck grits out, breathing labored as they take another slow step forward.
Buck nearly collapses and it takes all of Eddie’s strength to keep both of them standing. Eddie decides that putting Buck in the stream might not be such a good idea after all because he’s afraid he won’t be able to get him back out.
“I’m going to sit you down right here,” Eddie tells him, and he can see Buck’s face shutter with relief at the thought of not having to move anymore.
It takes a while to get Buck clean, his skin and clothes so caked with mud, but eventually Eddie finds the zipper of his jacket and carefully pulls it off to rinse and dry out in the sun.
The sight of dried blood on his undershirt makes something twist in Eddie’s gut, but he removes that too and places it next to Buck’s jacket. Buck is littered in bruises and there’s a bad burn etched across his chest like a lightning bolt.
“Oh Buck,” he sighs as trails his finger under the burn.
“Could be worse,” Buck tries to joke, but his lips twist in the corner and his eyes are a little foggy and far away.
Eddie gently applies the burn cream and cleans out the Tracker Jacker stings. Buck looks a little more at ease as he leans back against the rock, the setting sun slanting over his face beautifully. Eddie allows himself the smallest of smiles before he realizes how hot Buck’s skin is to the touch.
Like he has a fever.
Eddie swallows his panic down and forces Buck to take a fever breaking pill from the supplies he took from the District One boy. He also offers Buck some food, but he flat out refuses.
“It will just come back up,” Buck says in a way of apology, “and I haven’t really been hungry for days.”
“Buck.” Eddie says, his voice urgent, fear pricking his heart like ice. “You have to eat something, please.”
Buck’s face melts into something sad before he slowly nods and begins chewing on some dried apple pieces. Eddie thinks he’s doing to please Eddie more than anything, but Eddie will take what he can get.
He takes a moment to look Buck over. The games have definitely taken their toll. Buck’s lost weight, no longer quite as bulky and his cheeks are sharp and hollowed, like he’s lost all his baby fat and soft curves. Eddie can only imagine how he must look near the same.
“Eddie,” Buck says after a moment, “can I sleep yet?”
“Not yet,” Eddie says, keeping his voice even, “I need to look at your leg first.”
Buck sighs, but just nods his head. Eddie takes a deep breath and removes Buck’s boots, socks, and his pants, taking a moment to clean them off before he turns his full attention to the thing that could very well mean Eddie returns alone.
Even as he steels himself for whatever Jonah did, it does not in any way prepare him for what is waiting beneath. Running up his calf almost to his knee is a deep inflamed gash oozing blood and pus. His leg is swollen almost three sizes and Eddie has to fight the very strong urge to run away.
He can’t do this. How is he supposed to help Buck? He’s not like his mother or his sister. He doesn’t know where to begin.
He wants to run into the safety of the woods and never look at Buck’s leg ever again. But he can’t leave Buck. Eddie is all Buck has.
“It’s pretty terrible,” Buck says with a wry smile.
“It’s not too bad,” Eddie lies terribly which causes Buck to burst out in bright laughter.
“Eddie,” Buck says, leaning forward, he brushes his thumb over Eddie’s cheek, just below his eye and his smile is so fucking soft and gorgeous despite how much he’s hurting, “you’re a really bad liar.”
“Am not,” Eddie scoffs, ignoring the way his cheeks flush at Buck’s touch. “You should see some of the people they bring to my mother, I’m usually running for the hills.”
“Bet Christopher wouldn’t run away,” Buck teases.
Something warm blooms in Eddie’s chest. “Chris loves all things science and gross,” Eddie says with fondness, “I bet he’ll make a great healer one day, just like my mother and his mother.”
“Sophia is a healer?” Buck asks with interest. Eddie is surprised that Buck remembers his sister’s names.
“She is,” Eddie nods, “or well, she’s learning from my mother and has some ways to go, but I’m sure Christopher will follow in her footsteps.”
“Well,” Buck says with an encouraging look that makes Eddie blush again, “then it seems like I’m in the best hands.”
Eddie wants to argue. He wants to tell Buck that Eddie will likely kill him instead of save him, but the way Buck is looking at him right now, like he believes in Eddie, makes just the smallest bit of doubt ebb away, like the tides smoothing out the shore.
“Only the finest service here in the arena,” Eddie attempts to joke and he can’t tell if Buck is laughing to be polite or if he really thinks Eddie is funny.
Eddie holds onto the warm, pleasant feeling Buck’s given him and starts to clean off the leg. He takes a handful of the leaves Denny used to pull out the venom from the Tracker Jackers and chews on them, placing the green mess on Buck’s leg. It seems to do something as puss begins to run down Buck’s leg and the swelling goes down the smallest amount.
“Eddie,” Buck asks with a look of amusement, “you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Eddie says as he breathes through his nose, fighting to keep down what little food he ate this morning.
“For someone so lethal,” Buck teases, “you’re kind of squeamish.”
“Blood is fine,” Eddie admits, “but anything else is…” he trails off making a face, which gets Buck to laugh again, so it can’t be all bad.
“Maybe I should have let you give Bobby a bath on the train that day,” Buck says as he looks up at Eddie through his lashes, eyes sparkling mischievously.
“No way,” Eddie shakes his head, “he likes you more.”
“I don’t know about that,” Buck shrugs like it’s no big deal, but he can hear the slightest hint of self-deprecation.
For a moment it makes Eddie realize that, maybe, Buck has never been anyone’s first choice outside of his sister Maddie. That Buck cares so deeply for other people, but no one cares for him as much in return. Even in their brief time in the Capitol he can see the way that Bobby looks at Buck sometimes.
And Buck matters to Eddie. God he matters just as much as Christopher now.
“He has a soft spot for you,” Eddie says, “and he likes you way more than me.”
“That’s because you two are just alike,” Buck says.
Eddie opens his mouth to argue, but he thinks that maybe Buck has a point. Is that why Bobby’s sent him stuff in the arena? Because he sees himself in Eddie?
It nearly floors Eddie how well Buck sees him. How well Buck knows him.
Buck isn’t in love with me. He’s not. He can’t be. It’s all for the games. He’s making sure we survive.
“Eddie?” Buck asks, voice barely above a whisper as he tilts his head to the side.
Eddie clears his throat, and looks away from Buck, scared the truth will be written all over his face. He finishes bandaging Buck’s leg and checks to see if his clothes are dry.
“We should get moving,” Eddie says as he helps Buck redress.
“And go where?” Buck asks, paling slightly at the thought of moving.
“Somewhere safe and out of the open,” Eddie answers, glad to be wading back into safe territory. He can’t think about feelings and love and whatever else is between himself and Buck right now. “Somewhere for you to rest so you can get strong again.”
“Okay,” Buck says, completely trusting. It makes Eddie want to melt beneath the blaze of the sun.
If Buck looked pale before, he looks deathly white now as he puts pressure on his leg. Eddie murmurs words of encouragement taking on most of Buck’s weight as they take a few steps forward.
He knows Buck is going to black out any moment now and he carefully places him down on a rock, his heart in his throat. He hates seeing Buck like this. Hates knowing there is nothing he can do to take away the pain.
“I just need a second,” Buck gets out, head between his knees. He sounds like he’s trying not to cry and Eddie can’t help, but rub his back soothingly, the only comfort he knows how to give.
“Take your time.” Eddie says.
He scans the area for anywhere they could hide. He spots the entrance of what looks like a small cave about twenty yards away and figures there are worse places to hide. He nearly startles when Buck takes his hand, squeezing it.
He looks down to see Buck put on a brave face, nodding his head, telling Eddie he’s ready to go. Eddie half carries Buck to the cave, but they make it eventually.
“Here,” Eddie says as he rolls out his sleeping bag, “I bet it will be nice not to sleep in the mud for once.”
Buck’s chuckle is half hearted at best, but he lays down and lets Eddie tuck him in. He drinks some more water, but refuses to eat any more food.
Eddie feels jittery and on edge, heart thumping against his chest. He doesn’t have to be a healer to know what a fever and lack of appetite mean. He attempts to conceal the cave entrance with vines, ignoring the way his hands shake.
“Eddie,” Buck says, but Eddie ignores him, “Eds.”
Eddie closes his eyes for a moment, gathering all the courage he has and turns to face Buck. Even in the dum light of the cave those blue blue eyes pierce right through Eddie. Despite everything Buck is smiling.
“Thanks for finding me,” he says, “sorry I didn’t come after you.”
“You would if you could,” Eddie says and he can’t stop himself from running his fingers through those curls again. Buck is an inferno and Eddie is suddenly so scared that Buck is going to die right beneath his hands.
“And you know,” he says with a hard swallow, “you can have my back any day.”
“Yeah?” Buck smiles softly, “Well, you know you can have mine.”
He can’t lose Buck. Not when they just found each other. Eddie can’t go home without him,
“Eddie,” Buck says suddenly very serious, “if I don’t make it—”
“Buck,” Eddie says, choking on a sob, “stop talking. I didn’t drain that pus for nothing.” He tries to tease, but everything gets caught in his throat, sticky and unpleasant.
“I know,” Buck replies gently, smile still bright even as his eyes gloss over with tears, “but just in case—”
“No.” Eddie says, hard and unforgiving.
He’s not losing Buck.
“Eddie—” Buck begins in slight exasperation, but Eddie doesn’t let him finish his sentence.
He finally, finally, gives into that pull in his chest. The one that always leads him right to Buck.
Their lips crash together, a little clumsily and a little off center, but Buck tilts his chin up just a little and their mouths slot together perfectly. Buck’s lips are unnaturally hot from the fever, but something sparks through Eddie like an electric current or the warm fizzle of champagne. It doesn’t last long and as Eddie pulls away he wants to lean back in for more.
“You’re not going to die,” Eddie says with so much conviction he believes the words himself.
“Okay.” Buck says, his lips curling in the corner.
He runs the pad of his thumb over Eddie’s beauty mark beneath his eye and Eddie finds himself leaning into the touch for just a moment.
He feels incredibly hot like all his insides are on fire and he needs to get out, just for a moment, to catch his breath. The night air is cool, almost freezing, but Eddie lets it fill his lungs. Buck is so much better at this than he is. The way he looks at Eddie. The way he touches Eddie as if it were…
Real.
Eddie squeezes his eyes shut, willing the tears away. It’s not real. Or, maybe not completely. He and Buck have each other’s backs now and that means something. Eddie also knows neither of them can go home without the other. That means something too.
There’s a quiet sound and Eddie’s eyes snap open just in time to see a parachute landing right in front of him. Eddie eagerly picks it up, hoping and praying that it’s some sort of medicine. The disappointment that washes over him makes it feel like he’s drowning. It’s just a can of hot broth and he can perfectly picture Bobby as if he was standing in front of Eddie.
Buck’s dying Eddie start acting like it
Eddie hastily wipes at his eyes. He doesn’t openly express his emotions, always burying them down just to survive. How does he show the audience that losing Buck will be like losing a part of himself? How losing Buck will be nearly as bad as losing Chris?
But Bobby’s right.
They’re the star-crossed lovers of District Twelve.
And even though Eddie doesn’t understand how he feels he has to try.
For Buck.
The temperature only drops as night carries on and Eddie eventually gives up on the watch and moves to crawl into the sleeping bag with Buck. The boy doesn’t look much better than when Eddie found him, but at least he ate the entire thing of broth.
It’s not lost on Eddie just how dire their situation is. How much more vulnerable Eddie is on the ground taking care of someone who can hardly move. But whatever survival instincts are yelling at him to run aren’t as strong as the pull that keeps him tethered to Buck.
Eddie nearly collapses from exhaustion, the heat pleasant, allowing his muscles to relax. His comfort only lasts a moment though, eyes shooting open as he realizes the sleeping bag is reflecting back Buck’s fever.
He’s trying not to let the panic suffocate him, but he feels so out of his element. He would give anything for his mother or Sophia to be here right now, guiding him. Or maybe just holding onto him. He’s too terrified to do anything drastic so he wets a strip of cloth to help keep Buck cool without pulling him out of the sleeping bag.
He doesn’t sleep at all.
Eddie breathes in the cool morning air, knowing the chill that still clings to the grey morning won’t last. It relieves a little bit of the pounding in his head. Whether his headache is from lack of sleep, hunger, dehydration, or just his mounting stress about Buck he’s not sure.
He dips his fingers in the stream and splashes some water over his face. He takes a moment, runs the pad of his thumb across his cheek, beneath his eyes, down the line of his jaw. The drastic difference between the twenty-four shiny tributes going in and the one lone and starved victor coming out is one of the things that has always haunted Eddie about the games.
He can’t imagine how wild and horrible he looks right now. How the Boy on Fire must be unrecognizable. Eddie feels like he should take some comfort in not looking like one of the Capitol dolls, but whatever he is now is only a shell of his former self. He doesn’t understand how Buck can still look at him without flinching away.
Eddie nearly falls into the river when a gutted and terrified noise startles him. He regains his balance and sprints back towards the cave, bow posed at the ready. He won’t let what happened to Denny happen to Buck.
He can’t he can’t he can’t.
Eddie comes barreling through the cave, arrow aimed, but it only takes him a second to realize no one else is in there. It’s just Buck thrashing around, blues eyes wide and glazed over. It takes Eddie another few seconds to realize Buck is screaming his name.
“Eddie! Eddie! No, no! Eddie!”
Eddie drops to his knees, cupping Buck’s face as gently as he can. He’s still so hot to the touch, but not nearly as bad as last night, but Eddie finds no comfort in that as he tries to wake Buck from whatever nightmare or fever dream he’s stuck in.
“Buck, hey,” Eddie whispers, scared to raise his voice any louder, “I’m right here. I’m safe and I’m here with you.”
Buck must recognize him instantly because as soon as Eddie starts talking all the fight goes out and Buck sags in Eddie’s hold. He blinks a few times, chest heaving, fingers curling in the front of Eddie’s jacket. The heavy fog lifts from his eyes and he looks up at Eddie through his lashes.
“Sorry,” he murmurs, offering Eddie an apologetic smile, “sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry,” Eddie replies immediately as he brushes back a sweaty curl, “what happened?”
Buck wrinkles his nose. “I don’t know,” he says with a heavy sigh, “I woke up and you were gone, but I think I was still sort of dreaming and I got scared that Jonah or Lena got you.”
“You were worried about me?” Eddie asks, surprised.
“I’m always worried about you, Eds.” Buck hums and places the most gentle kiss against the palm of Eddie’s hand.
Eddie bits down on his lip to stop whatever noise is trying to claw its way out of his throat. He feels it slither back down to his ribs, wrapping around his bones and clenching his atriums and ventricles and aorta like it’s the only thing keeping his heart beating.
He wonders how they must look to the audience at this very moment. If their love story is as real as they all want to believe in.
It sure feels fucking real to Eddie.
He shakes his head and pulls back, allowing Buck to sit up.
“Let’s get you something to eat,” he says, turning away from Buck so every thought and feeling he’s ever had isn’t clearly visible to the boy who has somehow slipped past all of Eddie’s defenses without permission.
“You didn’t sleep,” Buck says as he slowly eats a handful of berries Eddie found this morning.
“I’m fine.” Eddie says automatically, but even to his own ears he knows just how bad it sounds.
Buck raises an eyebrow that clearly states he can see right through Eddie. “I can keep watch,” he says when Eddie remains silent, “get some sleep.”
“Buck—”
“I can wake you if anything happens,” Buck chuckles, as his tongue darts out to lick purple juice from the corner of his lips, “you can’t stay awake forever.”
“Okay, but only for a few hours.” He points his finger in Buck’s direction, “and then you wake me up.”
Buck rolls his eyes sighing in exasperation at Eddie’s stubbornness, but nods his head and gestures towards the sleeping bag next to him. Eddie lays down, and a moment later he feels fingers carding through his hair.
He peeks one eye open and sees Buck relaxing against a rock, eyes trained forward. It’s like he’s not even thinking about what he’s doing.
Eddie wants to tell him not to stop. Tell him that this is the first time Eddie has felt true comfort since entering the arena. He thinks Buck gets the message anyway, as he hums quietly to himself and doesn’t stop even after Eddie falls asleep.
He knows he’s slept far too long when he opens his eyes, but Buck is still right next to him, still carding his fingers through Eddie’s hair.
“You let me sleep too long,” Eddie grumbles as he sits up, trying not to mourn the loss of touch as he does.
“You needed it,” Buck simply says. “Besides, nothing’s happened.”
Eddie wants to argue, but he feels more well rested than he has in days.
Then he notices how dry and cracked Buck’s lips are, and he quickly brings a hand to Buck’s cheek. Buck’s eyes flutter close, and Eddie feels something heavy drop in his stomach. He's burning up again, and it looks like he’s barely had any water.
He knows he needs to check Buck’s leg, but he’s fucking terrified at what he might find hidden beneath the bandage.
“I’m going to take a look at your leg,” Eddie says thickly as he starts to unwrap the bandages.
Buck’s face goes blank as his gaze drops down to where Eddie’s hands are dutifully working. Eddie has to bite back a cry as he lays eyes on Buck’s leg. It’s so much worse now than it was yesterday. Swollen and inflamed and streaked with thin, red lines crawling up his skin.
Blood poisoning.
There’s nothing Eddie can do to fix this. They need medicine. Real medicine from the Capitol and they both know how expensive that is at this stage in the game. There’s no way Bobby could afford something like this even if they were the biggest hit in the Capitol. Eddie has to blink back tears, swallowing down the scream that threatens to burst right out of him.
“It’s uh,” he starts, voice unsteady, “it’s a bit more swollen today.”
“Eddie,” Buck says kindly as he tilts Eddie’s chin up with two fingers, “I know what blood poisoning is. I’ve read every book in our school library.”
“Well,” Eddie says, quickly putting fresh bandages over Buck’s leg, “you’ll just have to outlast everyone else and then when we win they can cure you in the Capitol.”
“Of course,” Buck agrees, but Eddie can tell it’s mostly for Eddie’s benefit, his smile sad as it curls up in the corner, “sounds like a plan.”
Eddie needs a distraction. He can’t sit here and watch Buck die while he does nothing. He mumbles something about making soup just so he can do something with his hands. It doesn’t take much time to make, but he’s so torn about leaving Buck for too long.
He doesn’t want Buck to die alone…
No. Buck is not dying. We’re both going home.
Buck forces himself to eat, probably just to make Eddie feel better, but Eddie can see how miserable he is, even when he does brighten at the sight of Eddie.
“Eddie,” Buck says, his face thoughtful and a little shy, “can you tell me about Christopher?”
Eddie’s hand immediately shoots to his necklace, holding onto it so tightly he feels the mockingjay symbol press into his skin. “You want to know more about Christopher?”
“Oh yeah.” Buck grins. “He’s super adorable and I bet he’s wicked smart.”
“He is,” Eddie answers immediately, something light and beautiful unfurling in his chest, like a flower opening to bloom in the sun, “best kid I know.”
“He’s got your smile you know,” Buck says, “the Diaz smile.”
Eddie tries not to blush too hard at that, but the compliment makes him feel warm and gooey.
“I told you he likes science,” Eddie starts, “but I think he would enjoy baking too. Whenever we have enough to make a simple loaf of bread he’s the first one that wants to help my abuela in the kitchen.”
“He’d be a natural,” Buck agrees, “I bet he would make the best cakes.”
“He loves looking at them in the display case,” Eddie says, “the colors and the decorations. He says they’re the most beautiful things he’s ever seen.”
“Well,” Buck ducks his head, his cheeks turning a rosy pink, “maybe when we get out of here he can come by the bakery sometime and help me decorate.”
“He would love that,” Eddie says honestly.
He swallows the sudden lump in his throat and then whispers, “The day he was born all the mockingjays stopped singing.”
Buck looks up at him, eyes soft as he smiles, “Yeah?”
Eddie nods, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. “They’re supposed to copy sounds, but when Christopher cried for the first time all they did was sing in return.”
He’s so close. So close to going home and holding Christopher in his arms. So close to hearing his laugh and running his hands through those curls and introducing him to Buck.
He knows Buck and Christopher would be best friends. He can imagine Christopher perched next to Buck, watching with wide eyes as Buck makes a buttercream rose or paints a cake to look like a sunset.
He’s barely noticed the way his fingers have curled against his palms, digging moon shaped scars into the soft flesh when he feels Buck’s hand slide into his own, stopping him from hurting himself.
“Can Christopher sing?” Buck asks, rubbing his thumb soothingly over Eddie’s hand. “Is he as good as you?”
Eddie chuckles wetly, “I’m not that good.”
“That’s not true,” Buck says quietly.
Eddie’s lips part as he looks at Buck. Beautiful, wild, and close to death. Eddie suddenly wants to lean forward and kiss him again. Buck must read him, he somehow always does, and tilts his head like an invitation. Just as Eddie begins to move forward Taylor Kelly’s voice booms across the arena.
“Tributes,” she says in a way that Eddie can tell she’s smiling all shark-like, “it is time we invite you all to a feast and this is one you won’t want to miss.”
Buck and Eddie quickly look at each other and Eddie can feel his heart in his throat.
“Each of you need something desperately,” she says dramatically, “and each of you will have that thing you need in a backpack marked with your District number at the Cornucopia at dawn. This may be your last chance and only hope,” she says, “and may the odds be ever in your favor.”
“Eddie, no.” Buck says immediately, his grip on Eddie’s hand tightening.
They both know what they need desperately. Something that can heal Buck’s leg.
“Buck,” Eddie says, aiming for indifference, but he can hear the desperation in his own voice, “I’m not going, don’t worry. We all know it’s going to be a bloodbath.”
“You’re such a bad liar!” Buck says angrily, his face flushing.
Eddie’s jaw quivers as he pulls his hand from Buck’s grasp. “I’m not going to let you die, Buck!”
“Then I’m going with you!” Buck says as he tries to push himself to a standing position. “I’ve got your back and I’m not going to let you down.”
“Buck,” Eddie pleads, “you can barely walk.”
“I’ll crawl then.” Buck says stubbornly. “And you can’t stop me.”
Eddie crosses his arms over his chest, fury flickering like a raging fire because he knows Buck would do anything to protect Eddie. Even if it meant throwing himself into the line of danger.
“I can’t sit around and do nothing while you die, Buck.” Eddie finally manages through gritted teeth. “I’d never forgive myself.”
“I’m not going to die,” he says. “I promise, but you have to promise not to go.”
Eddie wants to smash his fist into the nearest rock.
“Fine,” he snaps, “I promise not to go.”
He needs to get out before he does something stupid like knock Buck unconscious just so he can save him. “I’m going to refill our water, you better finish that soup.”
“Fine.” Buck says a little brattily, but picks up the bowl and starts eating like Eddie says.
He wants to scream and cry and fling rocks into the water, but he knows that won’t do him any good right now. He needs that medicine. Buck needs that medicine or he most certainly will die. He could maybe live another day or two, but that’s not nearly enough to outlast the others. The infection will creep into his lungs and his heart and soon Buck will be pulled from the arena and sent home in that goddamn wooden box and Eddie—
Eddie will be all alone.
Again.
He doesn’t bother wiping away the hot tears that roll down his cheeks this time. Let them all see how much this is killing him. Let them know that even the Boy on Fire has his breaking point.
He almost misses the parachute that lands gently next to him.
He tentatively opens it, not expecting much, but still disappointed when he realizes that it’s not what Buck needs. Eddie quickly uncorks the vial and takes a sniff. His heart nearly stops. He’d recognize that sweet scent anywhere.
Sleep medicine.
Just enough to knock someone out for a whole day, Bobby’s voice says in his head.
Something unpleasant twists in Eddie’s gut, but this is his only chance. He just hopes Buck can forgive him later. He quickly finds a patch of berries and mashes them up with the medicine and adds a handful of mint leaves because he knows Buck enjoys mint flavored tea.
“Look,” he says holding out the sweet mixture, “I found sugar berries. It’s almost like having dessert back in the Capitol.”
“Is this your way of bribing me?” Buck asks with a raised eyebrow, but he looks a little amused.
“Is it working?” Eddie tries for a smile, but his pulse is racing.
Buck gives him a little grin and Eddie sits down next to him, feeding him large spoonful's as quickly as Buck will allow. Buck’s lips are stained a blackberry color, dark and sticky sweet and he hums pleasantly as licks his lips. It isn’t until the very last bite that his eyes suddenly widen.
“Eddie,” he says, utterly betrayed, “Eddie—wait! This taste like….this is….”
He’s already fading and Eddie looks away as Buck falls into a deep sleep. He can’t stand the look in Buck’s eyes as they flutter close. Like what Eddie’s done is unforgivable.
“Sorry Buck,” Eddie murmurs as he gathers up his bow, “I can’t lose you too.”
Eddie crouches beneath the cover of trees, the dense pack of bushes just behind the plains where the Cornucopia sits.
He thinks it might be the same place he hid after blowing up all the food. He’s been here for a few hours, too terrified to sleep, worried he might miss his chance. His thoughts have been a revolving door of his family, Shannon, and Buck. The closer they are to the end the higher the chance he and Buck might actually make it back to Twelve.
And then what?
Pretend like everything out here didn’t happen? Eddie knows no matter how hard he tries to forget the memories inside these walls they will haunt him the rest of his life.
Does he get to keep Buck? Are they friends? Just allies? Surely after the Capitol has turned away from them they won’t have to pretend to be in love anymore. But going back to the way things were before—chance glances across the room, never speaking—seems impossible and makes something in Eddie ache.
Maybe Buck will make good on his word and show Christopher how to decorate cakes. He wonders if Buck would ever want to join him out in the woods.
He wonders what Shannon would make of that.
Whether they like it or not he and Buck are tied in a way no one else will ever understand. And they haven’t survived yet. Eddie still needs to get the medicine. Buck needs to hang on a little longer.
The first rays of sun, golden and warm, spill over the Cornucopia the same time the ground just in front of it opens up. From its depths rises a table with four packs each labeled with the remaining district numbers.
As soon as it clicks into place, Eddie catches Foxface out of the corner of his eye darting across the ground. He’s rendered a little stunned as she quickly grabs her pack from the group and disappears behind a line of trees. It happens so fast, too fast for any of them to really respond and chase after her, especially when the rest of their stuff is waiting out in the open.
“Fuck.” Eddie grits out.
He knows he needs to move now. That he’s probably missed his best chance by a few seconds, outsmarted by the girl from District Five whose name he doesn’t even know.
Eddie, go!
Bobby’s voice in his head motivates him to take off towards the table in a full sprint. He’s not even halfway to the table when he hears the sound of a knife whizzing next to his ear. He brings his bow up and blocks it, turning as he sets an arrow aimed right for Lena’s heart. She turns and avoids the fatal blow, but he pierces her in the arm.
It slows her down just enough that Eddie makes it to the table, snatching the bag marked 12 up quickly. He turns just in time for Lena’s second knife, but even as he ducks away it catches him across the eyebrow, slicing open his skin. Eddie stumbles back into the table and a few seconds later he’s being tackled to the ground.
“Where’s Lover Boy?” Lena asks as she pins him to the ground.
Eddie bucks his hips, thrashing beneath her, but she outweighs him, using her knees to pin his arms to his side. Panic hot and horrid swells in his chest.
He doesn’t want Christopher to watch him die, slow and painful as Lena and Jonah promise it to be. He thinks about Buck all alone in that cave. How he’ll die before he wakes.
Eddie screams and tries to dislodge Lena again, but she pulls one of her knives and presses it against his throat.
“How tragic you won’t be able to save him,” Lena laughs.
Eddie’s jaw quivers with fury as he looks up at her. She gently wipes the blood away from his forehead, tilting his face back and forth as if she’s examining him. He refuses to let his fear show.
“I told Jonah I’d let him kill you,” Lena says as she drags her dagger against the corner of Eddie’s lips, “but he said I could carve a few little pieces.” She raises an eyebrow as she looks down at him. “No final words?”
Eddie swallows the lump in his throat, the faint taste of metallic lingering against his tongue.
I’m sorry Christopher. I’m sorry Shannon. I’m sorry Bobby. I’m so sorry Buck.
“Fine,” Lena sneers, “but we’re going to kill you, and then we’re going to kill Lover Boy just like we killed that pathetic little ally of yours, Denny.”
Some of his anger boils over as he bares his teeth, but before he can do anything Lena is suddenly lifted into the air. Eddie quickly pushes himself up on his elbows, mouth dropping open as he watches Darrius slam Lena against the side of the Cornucopia.
“Did you kill that little boy?” Darrius growls as he slams her against the cold metal again.
Lena doesn’t answer him, instead she starts screaming Jonah’s name. Eddie can hear Jonah in the distance, but he’s too far away to help Lena now. Darrius keeps slamming her against the metal and Lena’s cries become more gutted and afraid.
“No! No!” Lena sobs as she tries to find some sort of grip on Darrius, but he is much stronger than she is. “We didn’t!”
“I heard you.” Darrius says, furious. “You killed him just like you plan on killing this boy here.”
It’s over a second later. Lena hits the Cornucopia for the last time, falling to the ground like dead weight. The sound of the cannon startles Eddie as he looks up at Darrius. He knows there’s no way he would be able to fight Darrius off and in his current state, bleeding profusely from his forehead, he doesn’t think he can out run him either.
“Denny was your ally?” Darrius asks, his voice surprisingly soft now.
“He was my friend,” Eddie says quietly in return, “I buried him in flowers and sang him to sleep.”
He can’t stop the tears pricking in the corner of his eyes. He’s overwhelmed at the thought of Denny. Denny was right in front of him and he just slipped right through Eddie’s fingers. He lost Denny and he’s about to lose Buck and Buck might lose him first and Eddie just wants to go fucking home.
“Just this once,” Darrius says. “Just this once Twelve, for Denny.”
Eddie nods his head in understanding. They’re even now. They can both hear Jonah getting closer and Darrius turns and grabs the remaining two packs from the table.
“You better run, Fire Boy.” Darrius yells before he takes off towards the golden fields on the opposite side of the plain.
Eddie doesn’t hesitate as gets to his feet and starts back for the cave. The only comfort he has is that Darrius took Jonah’s backpack, which means the chances of him following Eddie are slim. He rips a piece of cloth from his shirt and presses it to his forehead to staunch the flow of blood.
The world tips and spins, but Eddie is so close. He is so close to saving Buck. It’s the only thing that keeps him going until he stumbles into the cave.
“Stay with me Buck,” Eddie pleads as he pulls the medicine out of the bag.
Buck looks deathly pale and his chest is barely rising, but Eddie finds a weak pulse as he slides his finger against the burning flesh of Buck’s wrist. He takes the needle and jams it into Buck’s arm, pressing down until it’s empty. He falls back against one of the rocks, his vision going fuzzy.
The last thing he remembers is Buck murmuring his name and a pair of beautiful blue eyes blinking open before everything fades to black.
I j-just need you to hang on for me, Eds
Eddie hears the sound of rain, the hard patter of droplets splattering against rock and trickling into the stream. There’s a faint whiff of petrichor and pine, the clap of thunder in the distance that’s more soothing than startling.
There’s something warm and rough pressed against his cheek, the pad of a thumb stroking gently beneath his eye. Eddie lets his body relax, a soft sigh escaping his lips as he slowly blinks his eyes open.
“Hey, there you are,” Buck says as he settles into focus; beautifully blue-eyed and alive.
“You’re okay,” Eddie murmurs, blindly reaching forward.
His hand lands on Buck’s chest, fingers sprawled until he can feel the steady beat of his heart.
“More than okay,” Buck grins, “whatever you gave me did the trick. The swelling has almost gone completely down and the area around it is a little numb, so I can probably walk now.”
Something tight and awful unwinds in Eddie’s chest and he presses his hand a little further into Buck until his heart is practically pounding against his palm.
Buck is okay. Buck is alive. They can still win. They can still make it home together. Whatever anger or betrayal Buck might have felt earlier looks completely gone now as he watches Eddie with so much reverence he almost can’t stand it.
“That’s good,” Eddie croaks before clearing his throat, “did you eat?”
“Sorry,” Buck says with a small frown, “I ate three pieces of that bird you caught before I realized we should ration.”
“No,” Eddie says quickly, shaking his head, “it’s good that you ate. I can go hunting again soon.”
“Not too soon,” Buck hums as he swipes his thumb under Eddie’s eye again, “it’s my turn to take care of you.”
“Buck,” Eddie groans, eyes fluttering close, “you don’t have to.”
It’s rotten work.
“I want to,” Buck smiles all shy as he ducks his head.
Eddie is helpless to refuse and he lets Buck feed him and rub warmth back into his arms and feet. He’s never been one to seek out comfort in touch, has never really known how to ask. Christopher is one of the rare people he lets close; hugs and cuddling after a nightmare. His Abuela pats him on the cheek and he shares an occasional hug with his sisters. He and Shannon usually draw comfort in their closeness, but they never touch like this.
Buck can’t seem to stop touching him, little things here and there. Knees pressed together when they’re sitting, a hand on his thigh, or the brush of their shoulders. Eddie likes it. And he’s terrified of the want for more whenever Buck pulls away.
He doesn’t know what he’s going to do without Buck being so near when they get out of this.
“Buck,” Eddie says quietly, “I want to go home.”
“You will,” Buck says in a way that makes Eddie fully believe the words, “I promise.”
He leans over and gently presses his lips to Eddie’s. It’s nothing spectacular or show stopping for the audience, but Eddie doesn’t think it’s for them. This feels like something just for the two of them. Something Buck can give Eddie in the middle of this hell as a way of comfort and companionship.
And maybe even love.
Eddie pushes his lips to the side as Buck pulls away. Everything feels so messy and complicated. A storm endlessly cycling in the space beneath his ribs.
Real.
Not real.
Real.
Not real.
“Eds,” Buck says, pulling Eddie from his spiraling thoughts, “I need you to make a promise for me though.”
“What’s that?” Eddie asks, giving Buck a half smile of amusement.
“Don’t die for me,” Buck says seriously. “I know you think you did the right thing by going to the feast, but Eddie, please don’t die for me.”
Anger, hot and vicious suddenly wells up in Eddie. He’s reminded of all the times Buck seemed so determined for Eddie to survive before the games even started. How his own life didn’t matter as much as Eddie’s.
“Buck, just stop, okay?” Eddie growls, “Did you ever think for a second that you might not be the only one who would…” he falters, all the things he wants to say catching in his throat, “... or what it would be like if…”
“If what, Eddie?” Buck asks softly.
If I lose you. Please, whatever you do, don’t leave me here alone. I don’t think I can go on without you.
“I think you know,” Eddie drops his gaze to the ground.
He can’t say it. Not when he knows all of Panem is watching this moment. It’s not fair. It’s not fucking fair. He wants to enclose a bubble so it’s just the two of them even if it means they lose out on sponsors. However he and Buck feel about each other really is none of the world’s business.
He can see Bobby shaking his head now, disappointed that Eddie let this moment go.
Buck seems to understand anyway, his hand sliding to cup Eddie’s face. “Yeah,” he says, “I think I do.”
He leans in, tilting his head so that their mouths slot together. That spark buried deep inside Eddie roars to life, a sweet sizzling fizz inginiting in his blood that he can feel in the tips of his fingers.
He kisses Buck deeper, his hand fisting his jacket to keep him in place. This is the first kiss that makes Eddie want more. Buck breaks it this time, brushing their noses together before he gently kisses the tip of Eddie’s nose.
“Let’s lie down,” Buck murmurs as the rain outside picks up, the sound of thunder growing louder by the minute.
Eddie doesn’t argue. He lets Buck pull him into the sleeping bag, his arms wrapping securely around Eddie — protective, safe, and warm. Buck’s chest rises and falls steadily and Eddie watches the quiet drips of rain just outside the entrance to the cave.
“Buck?” Eddie whispers, not sure if he’s already asleep or not.
“Yeah, Eds?” Buck says a second later, a little sleepy, but his eyes are open.
“Why me?” Eddie asks, so, so quietly.
He watches Buck’s brow furrow for a moment as if he doesn’t understand Eddie’s question. Eddie chuckles softly as he shifts so he’s leaning over Buck now. Buck has always been the one who is better with words. Maybe he can give the audience something because Eddie knows he just can’t.
“Whaddya mean?” Buck asks with a yawn.
“Why did you choose me?” Eddie asks and even though he knows the audience is all hanging on their every word now, he wants to know too.
How could someone like Buck; full of sunshine and goodness with kind eyes and a big heart ever fall for (or pretend to fall for) someone like Eddie. Eddie knows he can be grumpy and soft spoken, stubborn and distant.
“It was when I heard you sing,” Buck says easily. “I remember seeing you for the first time when we were young, maybe five or six, and everyone wanted to be your friend.”
Eddie’s lips tug up in the corner. He remembers his quiet and aloofness was mistaken for being cool. When in reality he was just too scared to talk to anyone. It was easier being on his own.
“I was so jealous,” Buck laughs, “and then I heard you sing in music assembly. The teacher asked if anyone knew the valley song,” Buck continues, “and you raised your hand so fast. When you started singing I swear all the birds fell silent, just like they did when Christopher was born.”
Eddie is a little speechless. His lips part as he looks down at Buck. He remembers that day too.
He remembers his hand shooting in the air to sing because music was a huge part of their life at home.
He doesn’t understand. This memory is real, which means that Buck didn’t make it up for their love story or their audience or for Bobby.
“Buck…” Eddie starts, but doesn’t know what else to say.
“Consider me a goner,” Buck shrugs sheepishly, “and then it took me forever to come up and talk to you.”
Eddie thinks of all of their moments growing up. The shared, lingering looks. Buck taking the beating from his mother to give Eddie the bread. Their conversation in the library with Buck purposely looking for books that Eddie could use to find edible plants.
All of the little details that weave a story Eddie had no idea was being written, all real and true and right there. Could that mean that everything else is true too? That Buck could be…that Buck is in love with Eddie?
“You remember all of that?” Eddie asks, voice small.
His head feels like it’s reeling.
“How could I forget someone like you, Eds?” Buck brushes his fingers through Eddie’s hair. “You’re the one who wasn’t paying attention,” He teases.
That’s not true.
“I am now,” Eddie says instead, because the truth is too much to bear right now.
“Not like I have much competition here,” Buck says, a little self-deprecating.
Eddie can practically hear Bobby screaming at him. He knows he can’t shut this down no matter how much he doesn’t want the world watching.
“You don’t have much competition anywhere,” Eddie forces out before he grabs Buck’s jacket and pulls him into a kiss.
It’s a short thing, a barely there brush and as Buck moves to kiss Eddie again something clunks just outside their cave. Eddie immediately aims his bow in the direction of the entrance and Buck’s hand holds tightly to his bicep, but they both catch sight of the parachute.
Eddie moves to pick it up and lets out a wet laugh as he brings the basket of food inside. It’s a small feast of rolls, lamb stew, rice, goat cheese, and apples.
“Do you think Bobby got tired of watching us starve?” Buck asks, with an amused smile.
“Seems like it,” Eddie says, but in his head he can hear Bobby now; Now that’s what I’m looking for.
They slowly begin to dig into their food when a cannon shoots off in the distance. They both jump and quickly look up to the sky. A face flashes across the rain, a little distorted, but both he and Buck can identify who it is.
“Darrius,” Buck says sadly, his fingers slipping into Eddie’s, holding his hand tightly, “is dead.”
Eddie no longer feels hungry as he looks down at their food.
He didn’t know Darrius, not really, but the only reason Eddie and Buck are even alive right now is because of what Darrius did. It hits him all over again. The unfairness of it all. It doesn’t hurt nearly as much as losing Denny, but a sharp pang still stings right in the center of his chest. Buck squeezes his hand a little tighter and Eddie’s gaze shoots up to meet him.
“Darrius saved me, you know.” Eddie says quietly.
“At the feast?” Buck asks, eyes softening.
Eddie nods. “He killed Lena,” he explains as he runs his finger over the back of Buck’s hand, “and spared me when he found out what I did for Denny. Probably didn’t want to owe me anything.”
Buck raises an eyebrow, confused as he says, “He let you go because he didn’t want to owe you anything?”
“It’s like the bread,” Eddie mumbles as he picks up a roll, “and how I can never seem to stop owing you.”
“Owing me?” Buck asks in disbelief. “Eddie, you don’t—” He huffs out in frustration, “—you saved my life, I don’t think anything else matters now.”
“But you didn’t know me,” Eddie replies sharply as he pulls his hand from Buck’s, “and sometimes I still don’t understand why—”
“Eddie,” Buck says, in that way that Eddie can’t run from. He turns back towards Buck, eyes wide and is met with a pained smile, his baby blues crinkled with sadness, “you know why.
No, I don’t.
But maybe Eddie does.
Eddie inhales and lets out a long breath. He can’t do this right now. He needs to focus on them getting home. There’s only four tributes left and Jonah will probably be on the hunt for them. Eddie knows he’s the one that killed Darrius.
“We should get moving after we eat,” Eddie says and Buck gracefully accepts the change in subject, “and start to hunt.”
“Jonah will probably be looking for us,” Buck agrees, “even injured there’s not much that can stop him.”
Eddie lets Buck ramble as they eat, his voice a soothing balm to Eddie’s frayed nerves as he talks about the history of coal production, which would be boring coming from anyone else, but Buck always makes things sound more interesting than they are.
Their knees touch as they sit and occasionally Buck’s elbow knocks into him every now and then, but Eddie doesn’t mind. He rebandages Buck’s leg and they clean up their area before they step out of the cave together.
“Buck,” Eddie suddenly asks as a patch of sun falls across Buck’s face, bright and beautiful even when he knows they both look wild and dirty, “how do you think Bobby did it?”
Buck’s eyes flutter open as he turns away from the sun, “He out-smarted everyone else.”
“Did you re-watch his games?” Eddie asks out of curiosity.
“I did,” Buck says with a far off look. “It was the Second Quarter Quell,” Buck explains as he stretches his leg, wincing as he rolls his ankle to test his movement, “and there were double the amount of tributes.”
“Forty-eight?” Eddie asks aghast.
“It was awful,” Buck agrees, “and Bobby won by using the edge of the arena against the last tribute.”
Eddie thinks of Bobby all alone in the Victor’s Village. Always drinking and never seen around town. He can imagine how upset the Gamemakers were at Bobby using the arena in a way that they had not anticipated.
“Is that why he’s lonely?” Eddie whispers, hoping that Bobby can’t hear him right now.
“Yeah,” Buck says sadly, “I don’t think they like it when you’re smarter than them.”
Eddie looks at Buck and something protective and feral curls right beneath his ribcage.
Buck may not be the deadliest tribute with his hands, but he’s smart. He knows how to play the game. He’s been playing it since they reached the Capitol and maybe even as soon as Josh called his name at the Reaping. He’s terrified at what the Capitol could do to someone like Buck.
“Should we get going?” Buck asks. “Not sure how fast I’ll be able to move.”
“Yeah,” Eddie nods, his fingers flexing with a desire to reach for Buck, but he curls them around the edge of his bow instead, “come on.”
He gives Buck his knife and they slowly make their way down stream to some of Eddie’s old hunting areas where he knows there should be plenty of game.
He knows it’s not Buck’s fault, his leg is still injured pretty badly even though the infection is gone, but he’s being entirely too loud as they make their way along the forest. Eddie knows it and Buck knows it too.
“Eddie,” Buck calls after another twenty minutes of walking and no game in sight, “we need to split up.”
“No,” Eddie says resolutely, “we stay together.”
“You’re not going to catch anything with how loud I am.” Buck says with a small huff of a laugh.
“It’s okay because you’re hurt,” Eddie says kindly as he stops to turn and look at Buck. He merely looks fondly amused and Eddie feels his cheeks heating up despite being in the shade of the trees. “Besides, what if Jonah finds you and tries to kill you?”
This time Buck does laugh and all Eddie can do is frown in response. “I’ve fought Jonah off before,” Buck shrugs, “I can handle him.”
Eddie grits his teeth, just stopping himself from saying; Yeah, and I almost lost you. Buck’s face softens, like he can somehow read Eddie’s mind.
“We need food,” Buck says as he squeezes Eddie’s arm, “I can look for berries or something while you get the meat.”
“Fine,” Eddie says gruffly, “but I won’t go too far and you better whistle if you need me.”
“Promise,” Buck says as he holds out his pinky. Eddie eyes it suspiciously before he links his own with Buck and they hold onto each other for a moment.
Eddie turns away and ignores the pull in his chest telling him to go back. The quiet sounds of the forest are a familiar comfort as he moves deeper into the trees.
He lets his mind drift off to the real possibility of himself and Buck winning. They’ll get to move to the Victor’s Village with Bobby. A nice, big house and money so that his family will never have to starve again. Christopher can have his own room, his abuela can cook to her heart’s desire, his sisters can have something close to a better life, and maybe his mother can start seeing patients again. He won’t need to hunt as much anymore, but he can still sneak out into the woods with Shannon, just like old times.
Shannon.
She and Buck are going to have to coexist in the same space soon. That’s one thing Eddie knows he can’t lose. He’s not sure what he and Buck will be after this is all over, but maybe friends is a good place to start.
They saved each other and despite everything else Eddie will never forget that. He tries not to let the thought of his relationship with Shannon complicate everything. Shannon is his best friend. Someone who’s been by his side for years. He doesn’t—
It’s not like that between them.
He’s never let himself entertain the thought. Not with how they live in District Twelve. If things were different would he and Shannon even be something? Does he want that? Whenever he thinks of anything close to the word love romantically all his brain can do is show him Buck’s private smile, the one just for Eddie.
He has a couple of rabbits by the time he starts back to where he left Buck.
That’s when the cannon sounds.
“Buck!” Eddie yells as he takes off in a dead sprint. His heart is in his throat and the world is tipping tipping tipping until it’s completely upside down. “BUCK!”
He can’t lose Buck. He can’t lose Buck. He can’t lose Buck. Not now. Not when they’re so close to going home. He can’t hear anything except the roaring in his ears, but his voice is rubbed raw as he screams Buck’s name over and over again.
He breaks through the bushes and crashes right into Buck. Buck is quick to catch Eddie, hands immediately wrapping around Eddie’s arms. He looks just as terrified as Eddie feels.
“Edde,” he says as his eyes quickly look over Eddie, “god, I thought—”
“I heard the cannon,” Eddie cuts in, he can hardly breathe and he grips the front of Buck’s shirt like he’ll disappear any moment, “and I thought, fuck, Buck I thought Jonah killed you or—”
“Hey,” Buck pulls him in for a hug, “I’m sorry. I’m okay, I’m right here and I’m okay.”
Eddie doesn’t realize he’s trembling until he buries his face in the crook of Buck’s neck. He can just barely catch a whiff of juniper. He pulls back a moment later and hastily wipes at his face. That’s when he finally sees the pile of berries sitting on the ground next to a group of roots Buck must have dug up.
“Buck,” Eddie’s heart starts pounding painfully against his chest again, “tell me you didn’t eat any of those berries.”
Buck looks down and shakes his head, “No, I uh, was waiting for you.”
“Eddito,” his Abuela says seriously as she picks up a single dark berry his father brought in alongside a few small baskets of others, “your father picked this to show you one thing you must never eat.”
“What is it, Abuela?” Eddie asks as pops a raspberry into his mouth.
“This is nightlock,” she says, “and you will be dead before it hits your stomach.”
“Nightlock,” Eddie says as he picks one up and holds it between them, “we must never eat these.”
Buck’s face falls as he tugs at his hair, “I’m sorry Eds, I—I didn’t know. I thought they looked liked these other berries we have at home and god I could have killed us and—”
“You didn’t know,” Eddie says, “but now you do.”
Buck’s look of pain doesn’t fade from his face, but they’re both distracted by a hovercraft descending from the sky to pick up a body. Eddie recognizes the mane of red hair in the glint of the sun. Buck is suddenly grasping his bicep tight.
“Quick,” he says, “climb a tree. Jonah must be close.”
“Buck,” Eddie says softly, laying his hand over Buck’s, “she wasn’t Jonah’s kill. She was yours.”
Buck reels back for a moment, looking horrified. “But—but how? How could I have killed her?”
Eddie holds out the berry in answer and understanding crosses Buck’s face. He carefully takes the berry from Eddie’s outstretched hand and rolls it between the pads of his fingers.
“It almost doesn’t seem fair,” Buck says.
“Hey,” Eddie bumps Buck’s shoulder with his own, “one step closer to home.”
“Yeah,” Buck says a little far away, “home. I guess we should get rid of these then.”
“Wait,” Eddie says as he pulls a small leather pouch from his pocket, “maybe if they fooled Foxface, who was pretty damn clever, they can fool Jonah too.”
“And then there were three.” Buck says, his eyes on the pouch as Eddie pulls on the strings to shut it. “Jonah probably knows where we are now.”
“And the Gamemakers will probably want to end this soon.”
“What should we do?” Buck asks, “Head back to the cave?”
“We can try.” Eddie shrugs, at a loss.
He knows they need to leave this area, but he also knows they need to face Jonah sooner or later. They pack up their stuff and start the journey back to the cave. Eddie immediately knows there’s something wrong when the forest is quiet save for the sound of the mockingjays. The stream was overflowing when they had left the cave, but now as they step out onto the bank it’s bone dry.
“They’re driving us to the lake.” Buck says as he bends down and runs his fingers over a dry patch of mud.
“Then that’s where we’ll go.” Eddie says determinedly. “One final show.”
Buck closes his eyes, but Eddie can easily read him. His fear and determination. His exhaustion and the fight to never give up. Eddie takes a step forward, placing his hand on Buck’s shoulder, his thumb dipping below his shirt right beneath his collarbone.
“Hey,” he says, ducking his head until Buck meets his gaze, “I’ve got your back, remember?”
“And I’ve got yours.” Buck says, voice breaking a little.
“Then we’ll be okay.” Eddie says, and for once he actually believes it.
“Yeah, we will be.” Buck nods, lips curling in the corner.
It’s his Eddie smile. Eddie is tempted to lean forward and kiss Buck right now just so he knows how that smile tastes. Instead, he gives Buck’s shoulder a final squeeze and they start heading towards the lake.
It’s nearly nightfall when they finally make it. They sit just on the edge of the forest, scanning the darkness for any sign of Jonah. Eddie only has six arrows left. It’s not much, but Eddie’s a damn good shot and it only takes one arrow to put an end to this all.
“You should sing something for the mockingjays,” Buck whispers as he looks up at the trees where the birds are humming softly.
Eddie doesn’t think as he sings Denny’s four note melody, his hand wrapping around his St. Christopher necklace, tracing over the pattern of the mockingjay etched on the back.
“That’s beautiful,” Buck grins.
“Denny taught it to me,” Eddie says, as the song picks up and carries across the trees.
The music is suddenly cut off by an inharmonious sound and the rustle of trees as if they were being plowed over. He and Buck immediately jump to their feet, but just as they get ready to fight Jonah bursts through the treeline, and rockets right between them.
“What the hell?” Buck asks as he stumbles back into a tree.
Eddie watches as Jonah only picks up his speed, flat out sprinting onto the plain. Like he’s running away from something.
He looks back at the spot Jonah emerged from, and sees a huge creature with very real human looking eyes heading right for them.
“Run!” Eddie screams as he grabs Buck and shoves them both forward.
Mutations.
Eddie knows there’s no doubt about what is chasing them across the field. Whatever they are, they must be terrifying enough to scare Jonah into sprinting like that.
Eddie can feel the burn in his lungs, the way his body groans weak and aching from the past few days. Adrenaline and the sheer will to survive is the only thing that powers him forward. He just needs to reach the Cornucopia and then maybe he and Buck can—
Buck!
Eddie skids to a stop, turning to see Buck about fifteen yards back, running as fast as he can. It must hurt something terrible with his leg being injured like that. He starts to run towards Buck, but Buck just waves him away.
“Eddie go!” He shouts.Eddie can hear the pain in his voice. “I’m right behind you!”
For a second Eddie is torn, but he’s no use to either of them on the ground. He needs to get higher, and maybe he can take a few of the mutts out with his arrows to buy Buck some time.
He reaches the Cornucopia and begins to climb, nearly collapsing against the surface when he reaches the top. Jonah is on his hands and knees on the other side, retching into the grass below. Eddie could do it. He could finish Jonah right now and this will all be over.
“Eddie!”
Eddie whips around just in time to pull an arrow from his quiver and sink it right into the mutt lunging for Buck. He fires off a few more, pushing back the pack and giving Buck enough time to start climbing up. Eddie drops to his knees and reaches his hand down, grasping Buck’s arm.
One of the mutts manages to sink their teeth into Buck’s bad leg, pulling him back towards the ground. His sharp cry of pain gives Eddie the strength to haul Buck up and out of their grasp.
Eddie releases a small breath of relief when he realizes they can’t reach them up here. It is immediately extinguished when a beam of moonlight pours out from behind a cloud and Eddie comes face to face with a pair of dark, very human looking eyes. A collar that has the number 2 etched onto a gold pendant.
“Jesus,” Eddie shrieks, pulling himself and Buck as far away from the edge as possible, “it’s them!”
“Who?” Buck asks, terrified, his chest heaving.
“The other tributes!” Eddie holds onto Buck, fingers wrapped around his bicep so tight his knuckles go white.
He looks out over the field at the other mutts. The other tributes. Their size, and fur, and the numbers on their collar all telling them exactly who is standing before him and Buck. Eddie ducks his head in the crook of Buck’s neck when he spots the smallest one with dark glossy fur and big, brown eyes.
Denny.
“They can’t get to us,” Buck murmurs as he rubs his hands comfortingly up and down Eddie’s arms, “we’ll be okay.”
Before Eddie can form any sort of response he’s ripped from Buck’s grasp and flung across the Cornucopia, landing hard against the metallic surface. He gathers himself enough to see Jonah swing his arm, punching Buck in the face and knocking him down. Eddie scrambles to grab an arrow and nock it, but Jonah kicks him, making him roll towards the edge.
“Come here, Boy on Fire,” Jonah growls as he straddles Eddie, reaching his hands around Eddie’s neck.
Eddie claws at Jonah as he slides sideways and right over where the mutts are growling, their teeth chomping just a hair below where Eddie’s being choked. He sees black spots forming behind his eyes as he thrashes and tries to buck Jonah off, but he’s got at least twenty pounds on Eddie.
“Get off him!”
Jonah is suddenly lifted from Eddie, Buck’s arms wrapping around Jonah’s waist as he flings them both away. Eddie takes a few gasping breaths as he rolls onto his stomach, pressing his face into the cool surface. He can hear Jonah and Buck banging against the Cornucopia and their grunts of pain. Eddie blindly reaches for his bow and with all his might pulls himself to his feet and takes aim.
No.
Jonah’s face is covered in blood, his teeth stained a dark crimson as he smiles. He’s got Buck in a headlock, his arm pressing against Buck’s throat. Buck is barely standing, the new wound in his leg bleeding profusely as he tries to pry Jonah’s arm away.
“Shoot me,” Jonah laughs as he takes a step back to the mouth of the Cornucopia, “and he goes down with me.”
Eddie feels the tremble in his hand as he holds his stance. Jonah’s right. He can’t shoot without killing Buck. And killing Buck isn’t an option. One that Jonah fully understands.
“Just one more kill,” Jonah laughs, as he readjusts Buck in his arms, “because that’s what they want.”
Eddie clenches his teeth so hard he thinks they’re bound to break. He doesn’t know what to do. He can’t take his eyes off Buck. Buck’s face is twisted in pain as he tries to breathe, his blood soaked fingers slipping, leaving trails of red streaked across Jonah’s skin.
“Don’t you see it yet, Eddie,” Jonah snarls, “we’re already all dead.”
He watches Buck’s finger slide over to the back of Jonah’s hand, drawing a faint X.
Jonah realizes what it means a second too late after Eddie does, and his smile drops as Eddie’s arrow sinks into his skin.
He screams, letting Buck go on reflex and Buck pushes him right over the edge. Terrified, Eddie dives forward and grabs onto Buck, pulling him back as Jonah hits the ground. The mutts are on him moments later and his cries are probably one of the worst things Eddie’s ever heard as they tear into his flesh.
“Eddie,” Buck murmurs as he leans onto Eddie for support, "we have to end it, please. We can’t let him suffer.”
Eddie reaches back for his last arrow. Buck is shaking in his hold and Eddie knows he’s losing far too much blood. All of their equipment is by the lake, but he could use his arrow to splint the wound and save Buck before he bleeds out.
“No,” Buck shakes his head, reading Eddie like he always does, “they’ll want to drag it out.”
Eddie hates that his eyes are pricking with hot tears. He doesn’t have time to cry right now. He quickly rips a few pieces of cloth from his shirt and tries to staunch the flow of blood as best he can. Between this and Jonah’s initial cut Buck may very well lose his leg, but Eddie knows it’s better than his life.
“Just hang on a little longer, okay?” Eddie whispers as he brushes back Buck’s curls.
“Whatever you say, Eds.” Buck offers him a smile.
Eddie steps forward and finds Jonah in the middle of the mutt pile. He pulls back his last arrow and lets it fly. The cannon sounds a second later. The mutts slowly retreat and Eddie looks up as the night slowly fades into soft morning light. He turns back and pulls Buck into his arms, hugging him tightly.
“I think that means we won,” Buck says hollowly as he buries his face in Eddie’s neck.
“Hooray for us,” Eddie manages around a sob that’s building steadily in the back of his throat.
They slide down the side of the Cornucopia and step out onto the field together. There’s no hovercraft or any sign of someone coming to get them. Eddie suddenly can’t remember exactly how the Games end when one lone victor is left. He just hopes someone comes for them soon before Buck bleeds out.
“Attention tributes,” Taylor’s voice rings out and something hot and awful drops in Eddie’s stomach, “the previous rule about two tributes from the same District being able to both be claimed as victors has been revoked.”
Eddie closes his eyes, squeezing them shut as a tear slips down his cheek. “Only one may win, may the odds be ever in your favor.”
He finally looks at Buck. Buck is already looking at him with a sad, knowing smile on his face. Eddie’s only ever seen heartbreak once. When his father died and his mother disappeared into herself. The way Buck is looking at him now is a little bit like that.
“It’s okay, Eddie,” Buck says as he gestures towards the bow and an arrow that’s sitting on the ground next to where they are, “only one can go home.”
Only one can go home.
“No.” Eddie says, wrecked, the word hurting on the way out. “You should go home, shoot me instead.”
“Eddie,” Buck says, pained, “you know I can’t.”
Eddie throws away the bow, but his heart nearly stops when he sees Buck reaching for the bloody bandage around his leg. Eddie grabs onto him, holding Buck’s hands in his own.
“No!” He yells, eyes roaming across Buck’s face, trying to memorize every last part of him. His baby blue eyes, the slope of his nose, and the curve of his jaw. His beautiful birthmark and the way his lips part as he exhales.
“You're not expendable, Buck. Please, don’t leave me here alone.”
“They have to have their victor,” Buck says, eyes glossed with tears, “so just take it, please, for me.”
Eddie knows Buck is right. Without a victor the entire thing will be pointless. The Gamemakers will have failed the Capitol and everything the Games stand for will hold no ground. The weight of the leather pouch feels heavy in his pocket and Eddie carefully reaches in, pulling it out.
“What if they didn’t?” He whispers. He pours the dark, deadly berries into his hand. Buck covers his own over them, eyes wide with fear.
“Trust me,” Eddie says, gently taking Buck’s wrist and turning it over to give him a spoonful of berries.
“Together?” Buck asks as he looks up at Eddie, finally understanding.
“Together.” Eddie nods.
“Okay,” Buck says as they hold out their hands, “One…”
Eddie almost wants to lean in and press his lips to Buck one last time. Maybe when they both swallow the berries. Maybe as their last goodbye.
“Two.” Eddie says as he looks up into the sky.
He hopes Christopher and his family and Shannon can forgive him. He hopes they understand that there is no choice; that this is the only choice. That Eddie can not win without Buck and Buck can not win without him. He feels Buck’s thumb brush over the mark beneath his eye as he whispers, “Three.”
They both bring the berries to their lips as the trumpets suddenly begin to blare. Taylor Kelly’s frantic voice shouting, “Stop! Stop!”
There’s a moment of quiet and then she announces, “Ladies and gentlemen. I am pleased to present the victors of the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games: Edmundo Diaz and Evan Buckley. The star-crossed lovers from District Twelve!”
Eddie pulls Buck into an embrace first, fingers digging into the back of Buck so hard it may leave marks. Buck is murmuring something, but it’s next to Eddie’s bad ear, so he can’t really hear all that well. All Eddie knows is that he and Buck are alive and they both get to go home.
They both get to go home.
Buck slumps a little in Eddie’s hold and he looks down to see the bandage on his leg has completely soaked through. A hovercraft appears above them and drops down two rope ladders, but Eddie has no intention of letting Buck go. He tucks Buck into his side and they both put one foot on the ladder, an electric current freezing them into place.
“Almost there,” Eddie whispers a little desperately as he watches Buck’s eyes flutter close, “just hang on a little longer.”
Buck makes some sort of noise in response, a hum or a grunt, but he doesn’t open his eyes again. Eddie wills the ladder to move faster and as soon as they’re secure and the door closes the current stops. Buck becomes dead weight and passes out on the floor.
“Buck!” Eddie yells as he drops down next to him.
A team of doctors step in and take Buck away, but Eddie is holding on so tightly that Buck’s jacket rips as he’s pulled towards a silver table. The room suddenly feels too small as panic, hot and sticky curls around every part of his body. They stick Buck with wires and tubes, bodies with white, sterile masks and gloved hands moving over him.
“Wait,” Eddie croaks as he pushes to his feet, “stop! Don’t touch him!”
Adrenaline tears through him like wildfire. They’re still in the game. They’re still in the game. They’re still in the game. He smashes into a pane of glass and the sheer terror takes over as he bangs against it, his knuckles turning bloody and raw as he screams Buck’s name. No one pays attention to him as they concentrate on Buck. Eddie’s pretty fucking sure his heart stops.
Three minutes and seventeen seconds.
That’s how long he counts before the monitor springs to life with Buck’s beautiful, beautiful heartbeat. Eddie feels weak and exhausted as he slumps against the glass. If he were home this is when he’d run away. Run into the safety of the woods while his mother and Sophia saved someone’s life or at least tried to ease the pain of passing.
But Eddie can’t run away. He can’t look at Buck, but he can’t leave him either. Eddie’s always wonder why the loved ones of patients never leave. Why do they stay and watch?
And now Eddie knows. It’s because you don’t have a choice.
He startles violently when he catches someone staring at him just a few inches away. It takes him a moment to realize that it’s his own face looking back at him. Wild and rabid and feral and mad.
He doesn’t look like the Boy on Fire.
He doesn’t look like Eddie Diaz.
The haunted eyes of a boy who’s endured far too much is the last thing he sees before someone presses a needle into his neck and everything goes black.
When Eddie wakes he recognizes the clean, silver walls of the training center. There are no doors or windows visible, so he guesses they must be on some other level. Some sort of medical bay or preparation area.
There’s an IV in his arm and he tentatively moves his body, surprised to find that all of his aches and pains are gone. He looks at his hands; scrubbed clean and perfectly manicured. He can hear out of both ears and the cut on his forehead is now just soft skin with the faintest touch of a scar.
When he tries to sit up, something around his waist keeps him in place. He feels the oncomings of a panic attack as he tries to escape, but stops when the Avox girl — Mills — steps into view.
“Where’s Buck?” Eddie asks immediately. “Is he okay?”
Mills nods her head and gives Eddie’s hand a gentle squeeze. All the fight leaves Eddie, like a wildfire extinguished by a downpour.
Buck is okay. He’s okay. He made it. Eddie doesn’t stop the single tear that leaks out of the corner of his eye. He’s left with water and a small amount of applesauce, much to his chagrin, but he soon finds that even that amount of food is hard to finish.
He wonders how long he’s been here. There’s always a few days between the end of the Games and the final ceremonies. Just enough time to put the starved and broken tributes back together.
He wants to see Buck. He wants to see Athena and Bobby. He wants to go home.
Something cold seeps into his veins and he immediately loses consciousness. Eddie slips in and out of sleep. He dreams of the stars back home. Sitting in the field with Shannon as they gaze in the night sky. Dancing around the kitchen with his sisters as his Abuela sings. Introducing Christopher to Buck. Watching them decorate cakes together.
Buck looks up from Christopher’s handiwork, giving Eddie his private sunshine smile that makes something burst to life right in the center of Eddie’s chest.
The next time he wakes he finally gets to leave. He dresses quickly, something simple because he knows Athena will have something grand planned for their interviews and award ceremony.
Anxiety twists like an angry snake in his stomach as he heads towards the only doors in the room. He needs to see Buck. It doesn’t matter if he was reassured if Buck was okay. He needs to see Buck with his own eyes. Touch him. Feel his heartbeat.
He opens the door and only feels a small sting of disappointment when Buck isn’t there. It’s just Bobby, Athena, and Josh waiting for him with big smiles on their faces. Eddie suddenly takes off, needing this so badly right now. He crashes into Bobby first and holds back a sob.
“You did good, Eddie,” Bobby whispers as he holds onto Eddie just as tight, “and don’t worry Buck is just fine. Saw him myself,” Bobby adds with a knowing smile, “and the first thing he did was ask about you.”
“Where is he?” Eddie asks as he wipes at his face. “Why can’t I see him?”
“They want to do your reunion live at the ceremony,” Athena answers as she pulls him into a warm embrace.
“Oh.” It’s all Eddie can manage, but his heart slows into a steady beat knowing that Buck is still alive and that Bobby has seen him.
He follows Athena to the elevators, his shoulders relaxing as Athena keeps a gentle hold on him. He feels safe in her presence and although he’s still itching to see Buck, that pull pull pull in him becoming slightly unbearable, he lets himself be comforted by Athena’s nearness.
Eddie’s right about being in the Training Center. About the hospital being several floors below where they practiced and slept. They ride up to the twelfth floor and all Eddie can think about is the other tributes who will never step foot in this place again. He almost upheaves what little food they gave him while he was recovering.
“Have you given up on the ‘boy on fire’ thing?” Eddie asks dryly, smiling as he watches Athena bring over his outfit.
“You tell me,” she says as she helps him slip on his shirt.
The outfit is simple and lightweight. White linen pants that sit comfortably on his hips and a soft, yellow shirt that seems to shimmer in hues of oranges when he moves. It reminds him of candle light.
Everything about his appearance makes him look young and innocent. Harmless. Almost like he’s just a young boy going to the beach with his family instead of a sixteen year old feral, killing machine that just won the Hunger Games.
Eddie immediately knows that Athena didn’t just pick this for fun. Everything she does is calculated. He just doesn’t know what she’s trying to tell him yet.
“I thought I would be in something more sophisticated,” he says carefully, “like in the parade or the interview.”
“I figured Buck would like this more,” Athena answers, but Eddie can hear what she doesn’t say.
This isn’t about Buck. This is about the Capitol and the Gamemakers. It’s a reminder that the games aren’t quite finished yet. A warning that Athena can’t outright say.
Eddie swallows and nods, “Buck reminds me of sunshine.”
Athena’s smile is genuine this time as she gives his arm a squeeze. They take the elevator back down to the main level, and Athena leaves him for where he will rise up on stage in front of all of Panem.
Their prep teams and stylist will go first, followed by Josh, and then Bobby, and finally him and Buck. Eddie shifts on his feet, worrying his lip between his teeth. He’s anxious to see Buck, but Athena’s warning is rattling around in his head.
“Hey,” Bobby says, startling him, “easy, it’s just me.”
The crowd is roaring from above and he can barely hear Bobby, so he wonders if that’s why the older man moves closer, until Bobby is squeezing his shoulder on the side of too tight.
“Eddie you need to listen to me,” Bobby says fast and very quietly, “you’re in trouble. The Capitol is furious about you showing them up in the arena. The one thing they can’t stand is being laughed at.”
Eddie suddenly remembers what Buck said when they were talking about Bobby in the arena.
I don’t think they like it when you’re smarter than them.
Anger and defiance rises up in Eddie as his hands clench into fist.
“So, what?” Eddie huffs harshly. They were the ones who went back on their word. They were the ones that wanted him to kill Buck or have Buck kill him.
“Your only defense is that you were so madly in love with Buck that you couldn’t bear to live in a world without him.” Bobby continues like Eddie hadn’t said anything at all. “You weren’t in control of your actions.”
Eddie’s eyes widen as he looks at Bobby. Madly in love? But Eddie’s not…he doesn’t think…it’s not like…of course he couldn’t live in a world without Buck. Not after everything they’ve been through. Not when Buck looks at Eddie like he’s something worth looking at. Not when he and Buck have saved each other over and over again. Not when Buck kisses him like tomorrow will never come.
“Got it?” Bobby asks, his voice dead serious.
“Got it.” Eddie repeats as dread pools in his stomach like sick, cold venom. “Does Buck know?”
Bobby gives him a wry smile, “Don’t have to, he's already there.”
Eddie’s lips part on a question, but there’s an announcement and Bobby is disappearing to take his place. A shiver runs down Eddie’s spine. They won the games. They’re supposed to be safe.
And now he and Buck might be in the most dangerous position ever in their lives. Because in the arena death or victory is the only outcome. Here, in the real world, the Capitol can punish anyone they want. His family, Shannon, all of District Twelve. Everyone is in danger if he can’t pull off star-crossed lovers of District Twelve story. Eddie has to suppress a sob because he will be in front of the entire country soon.
And Buck.
Buck will suffer just as much as Eddie. The thought alone twists something terrible in Eddie.
He thinks about Buck lying on that metallic table. The way his heart stopped. Eddie never wants the Capitol to lay another finger on Buck.
Don’t have to, he's already there
Buck is the clever one. The performer. While Eddie can fight with his hands Buck can fight with his words. Has he already realized the danger they’re in? Or is Buck really desperately in love?
It’s all so confusing. What they did to stay alive versus what was real. Eddie’s never felt like he has to truly pretend with Buck, but everything is so messy and jumbled that Eddie can’t sort his real feelings from the act of survival. He cares about Buck, almost more than anything now that they’re tied together.
But does Eddie really, truly love him like that in return?
He doesn’t get to think about it for too long as his platform begins to rise. He holds his head high as the most dangerous part of the Hunger Games begins.
For a moment Eddie feels like he’s lost. The blinding lights and the roaring of the crowd all drown out his senses and his chest begins to heave like he’s suddenly on the verge of a panic attack. The lights dim and the world slows as Eddie turns and catches the sight of Buck just a few feet away.
He looks clean and healthy and beautiful as he catches Eddie’s eye. He ducks his head and then gives Eddie that sunshine smile. The one he reserves for Eddie and Eddie alone.
That’s all it takes for Eddie to give into that pull as he takes off and flings himself into Buck’s arms.
Buck catches him, like he always does, but stumbles back a little and that’s when Eddie realizes he’s using some sort of cane to remain upright. He doesn’t have time to ask before Buck is cupping his face and is kissing him.
It’s soft and aching and he can feel Buck’s tears on his lashes as he clings to Eddie tightly. Eddie can’t do anything except kiss him back. Hungry and desperate and with everything he can not say.
Do you know how much danger we’re in? Do you know that I might lose you anyway?
They can hear the audience going wild, but Eddie doesn’t let go. He breaks the kiss and leans his forehead against Buck’s. For a second it’s just the two of them. No audience or cameras or Taylor Kelly. Just Buck and Eddie holding onto each other.
“I’ve got you,” Buck whispers, pressing a gentle kiss to Eddie’s lips, “I’ve got you.”
Eddie just nods his head, because everything he could ever think to say gets caught in his throat. I know you do. I’ve got you too. We’re still in this together. I’ll still have your back because I know you’ll always have mine. And maybe Buck understands, his eyebrows knitting together as he strokes his thumb beneath Eddie’s eye.
Any illusion of privacy they had is gone when Bobby finally ushers them over to the loveseat set out for them. Buck is wearing a matching shirt, but tighter, black pants and sturdy boots.
Eddie feels incredibly vulnerable and wishes Athena would have dressed him just like Buck, but he supposes that’s exactly what Athena was trying to achieve. He tucks himself as best he can against Buck’s side and makes sure they’re touching at all points of contact. Buck slings his arm around Eddie’s shoulder and presses a kiss to the top of his head.
The audience coos in response and Eddie melts further into Buck with one look from Bobby. Taylor Kelly prattles on about something, words Eddie can not understand right now, but Buck is bright and responsive, jostling Eddie slightly as he moves. The lights dim and the seal of Panem appears on screen.
“Oh god,” Eddie whispers as he closes his eyes, “I can’t do this.”
He doesn’t want to sit here for three hours and watch the highlight reel of the games. He doesn’t want to relive some of his worst moments right here in front of an audience. He feels Buck’s hand slide into his own, lacing their fingers together.
Buck is probably the only thing keeping him on the couch. The thought of leaving Buck behind is almost just as painful. He swipes his thumb over Eddie’s knuckles soothing and it’s just enough for Eddie to relax back into him.
The only good thing Eddie thinks that will come out of this whole thing is that the Gamemakers have decided to tell a love story. Eddie bites the inside of his cheek so hard he can taste blood.
He may be the Boy on Fire, but Buck is truly the star. Buck’s been on Eddie’s side since the very beginning. Misleading the Careers and staying awake all night beneath the tree they had Eddie trapped in.
Shame, hot and sickening, pools in Eddie’s stomach. He was so angry at Buck. Wished him dead when Eddie thought he’d been betrayed.
Buck fought off Jonah and even muttered Eddie’s name in a fever induced nightmare when he was laying in the mud.
Eddie looks heartless in comparison.
It doesn’t matter if he thought about Buck almost every moment they were in the arena. The only thing Eddie shows that he’s good at is surviving. His only redeeming quality is his friendship with Denny. He buries his face in the crook of Buck’s neck when they play Denny’s death in full.
He can’t go through that again.
From there everything seems to fall in place. Eddie nursing Buck back from the dead. His flight to get the medicine. Their constant worry and fear for each other’s safety. The kissing. It all looks so fucking real. Too real. Eddie turns to look at Buck, his side profile glowing from the light of the screen.
Don’t have to, he's already there
Buck is in love with him. That much is clear.
And Eddie…
His own scream and the reverberating sound of fists against glass startles him. He looks up to see the moment where they took Buck away. Where Eddie completely lost his mind and nearly died just like Buck did on that operating table. That wasn’t acting or pretending or doing it for an audience. That was Eddie Diaz terrified out of his mind of losing Evan Buckley, the boy with the bread.
Maybe Eddie is in love with him too.
The lights brighten and a storming round of applause follows them. It takes Eddie a moment to realize how stiff and tense Buck is next to him. He gives Buck’s hand a squeeze and is met with those beautiful blue eyes.
“So,” Taylor Kelly’s voice cuts across the crowd, “we don’t have a lot of time before President Gerrard hands out your crowns, but I wanted to ask you both a few questions.”
Eddie watches as Buck puts on his performance smile and he does his best to match it, still holding onto Buck’s hand for dear life.
“First, Buck,” Taylor says with a concerned look that feels much too practiced, “tell us, how is the new leg working out?”
Eddie’s head immediately snaps in Buck’s direction as he pulls back slightly, looking down at Buck’s leg. Buck’s smile is tight around the corners as he pulls his hand from Eddie’s grasp to give his knee a squeeze.
He manages to pull up his pants leg and Eddie can see just small parts of his flesh tucked between parts of metal from his knee down to his ankle, like some sort of cyborg.
“It’s um, it’s going to take some time to get used to,” Buck says, his words faltering for the first time in front of the audience. Eddie can feel him practically trembling and he reaches out to cup Buck’s face.
“Buck,” he says, wounded, “I’m so sorry, this is all my fault.”
“Eddie,” Buck huffs out, “you saved my life.”
“He’s right,” Taylor Kelly adds, “you did everything you could.”
“Well,” Eddie snaps, “it wasn’t enough.”
Out of the corner of his eye he can see Bobby give the smallest of nods.
“Eddie,” Buck murmurs, tilting his head so he can kiss Eddie’s palm, “look at me.” Eddie obliges because what else can he do?
“I’m alive because of you, the rest we can figure out.”
Eddie just nods and fights back the tears welling in his eyes. He’s already put Buck through so much, but they’re nowhere near out of the woods yet. He’s suddenly terrified some peacekeeper will come marching on stage and rip Buck right out of his grasp.
“Eddie,” Taylor says in a voice meant to be kind, “I know you’ve just experienced quite a shock, but I and all of Panem have to know, what was going through your mind the moment you pulled out those berries?”
Eddie’s heart is in his throat, beating right against his trachea so that breathing feels nearly impossible. He should say something big and dramatic. Maybe profess his love in front of everyone so there aren’t any doubts. He takes a second to look at Bobby, who is only giving Eddie a fiery gaze in return.
“I don’t know,” Eddie says as he looks at Buck. “I didn’t want to be alone. I didn’t want to exist without him.”
The way Buck’s face lights up makes Eddie’s chest spark and burn.
Buck loves him. Buck loves him. Buck loves him.
Taylor Kelly says a few more words and the interview is over. The crowd is on their feet, screaming and cheering like he and Buck are the two best things to ever come out of the games.
Eddie manages to mouth okay to Bobby in the chaos and Bobby nods, returning with a perfect. Eddie sighs in relief and lets his weight fall into Buck before they’re ushered forward to receive their victory crowns from President Gerrard.
“Congratulations,” President Gerrard says as he steps up onto the platform next to two young girls holding the crowns on the pillow.
He places the first crown on Buck’s head first and Eddie watches as he briefly brushes his thumb over Buck’s birthmark. Eddie swallows, hands clenching into fist. He doesn’t want President Gerrard to ever touch Buck again. This must show on his face as the President turns to him next, his eyes narrowed and cruel, like a snake.
“What a lovely pendant,” President Gerrard says as he carefully picks up the St. Christopher necklace with the mockingjay symbol showing, “your family must be very proud.”
“Thank you,” Eddie manages through gritted teeth.
“Proud family, proud District,” President Gerrard tilts his head to look at Buck, who is watching both of them cautiously, “and the boy with the bread.”
Eddie freezes, his breath catching in his throat. The audience may have been convinced of their love story, but Eddie knows that President Gerrard blames him for the berries. President Gerrard steps back and Buck is by his side instantly, taking Eddie’s hand and raising it up for the roaring crowd.
“I’ve got you.” Buck reminds him, the words barely whispered through his parted lips.
Eddie gives Buck a smile, small, but real, and says, “I’ve got you too.”
Eddie watches as the Capitol breezes by in a colorful blur, the windowpane cool against his forehead as they pull out of the city, heading home.
Home.
Eddie will get to see his family. He’ll get to wrap Christopher up in his arms. He’ll get to see all the people in the Hob and hunt in the woods. He’ll get to see Shannon and maybe return to some semblance of a normal life.
He doesn’t know why, but the thought of facing Shannon in a matter of hours makes his stomach churn. Surely Shannon watched most if not all of the games. He wonders what she thinks of him and Buck.
Shannon’s smart enough to call a bluff when she sees it.
That seems so long ago and everything feels like it’s changed. Buck isn’t performing for an audience, playing every emotion to keep them both alive. He’s real and smiling and glowing with happiness as he presses into Eddie’s side despite everything that’s happened to them.
Happened to him.
Eddie doesn’t want to cause Buck anymore pain, but the guilt eats away at him, slow and torturing, like acid burning through his skin. He still hasn’t quite figured it out yet and now there will be no more games to hide behind.
“What’s wrong?” Buck whispers as Bobby, Athena, and Josh sit down for dinner.
Eddie almost laughs. Buck knows him so well. Knows when something is wrong, but hasn’t figured out that Eddie’s betrayed him in the worst way.
“Nothing,” Eddie hums as he turns away from the window and pulls himself out of Buck’s reach, already mourning the loss of heat. It’s something he’s just going to have to get used to.
Buck gives him a look that tells Eddie he clearly doesn’t believe him, but doesn’t push as he turns to join everyone at the table. The train eventually makes a brief stop for fuel and Eddie takes the opportunity to slip outside to catch some fresh air.
He’s not surprised when Buck follows, but he welcomes Buck’s company, allowing Buck to take his hand and lead him over to a field of wildflowers. He might as well take as much of Buck as he can before he loses it all.
“So,” Buck says as he picks a sunflower and hands it to Eddie, “are you going to tell me what’s wrong now?”
Eddie opens his mouth, wondering where he should start. Maybe it’s better not to say anything at all. Maybe he and Buck will just drift apart and live their separate lives when they don’t have to rely on each other to survive.
They have a few months until the victory tour. Maybe that will be enough time for Buck to get over Eddie and for both of them to just make their love story just that. A story.
He looks at Buck and his heart sinks. Buck is watching him with open, concerned eyes, mouth slightly pouted as he rubs his thumb over Eddie’s hand.
He can’t do this. He can’t break Buck’s heart.
“Great job you two,” Bobby says out of nowhere, patting Eddie’s shoulder, “just keep it up in the Districts until the cameras are gone. We should be okay.”
Bobby gives Buck’s arm a squeeze and heads back towards the train.
Eddie can feel Buck stiffen and he immediately averts his gaze, eyes dropping to the ground.
“Eddie.” Buck’s voice is low, “What did Bobby mean?”
“It’s the Capitol,” Eddie blurts out, unable to lie anymore, “they didn’t like what we did with the berries.”
“W—what are you talking about?” Buck drops Eddie’s hand and takes a step back.
Eddie closes his eyes and wraps his arms around himself.
“It was too rebellious,” he answers, the words tasting bitter as he says them, “and Bobby’s been coaching me through the last few days.”
He forces himself to look at Buck as he tries to joke, “You know, so I don’t mess anything up.”
Buck clenches his jaw. “Coaching you, but not me?”
“Bobby already knew you would get it right.” Eddie says a little desperately. He wants to reach out and soothe the furrow in Buck’s brow. He wants to go back to a few minutes ago with Buck’s hand in his as they walk through the wildflowers.
“I didn’t realize there was anything to get right,” Buck bites out angrily. Eddie can see hot tears pooling in his eyes as he takes another step back, tugging at his curls.
“So—so the last few days a—and everything in the games was just some—some strategy you two worked out?”
“No!” Eddie rushes to say, moving towards Buck with his hands out, but Buck flinches back. “No, Buck, I — how could I know what Bobby wants when we were in the arena?”
“Don’t lie to me, Eds,” Buck pleads, “you knew what Bobby wanted you to do.”
Eddie doesn’t say anything, but his silence must be enough of an answer. Buck nods his head, tears trailing down his cheeks hot and fast. He chews on his lip for a moment as he takes a few steps towards the wildflowers.
“So everything you did,” Buck says a little wrecked and ruined, “was for the games?”
“Not everything,” Eddie murmurs.
The fear of losing Buck is still so sharp and painful, like a hot dagger to the chest.
The way something sparked to life when their lips met. The comfort and closeness they found in each other. That was all true. The pull that lives in Eddie’s chest and fills him with the desire to be near Buck is real. He knows he may have done things to keep them alive, but Buck is important to him. Buck is…he…and Eddie….
He can’t live without him.
That’s real and true and maybe as close to love as Eddie can ever get, but he doesn’t know if it’s enough.
“Then how much?” Buck asks harshly as he turns back towards Eddie. “No, forget that. The real question is, what’s going to be left when we get home?’
Eddie drops his gaze. "I don’t know. The closer we get to District Twelve,” he admits honestly, “the more confused I get.”
Buck waits for Eddie to say more. Waits for Eddie to say all the things that are just on the tip of his tongue.
But Eddie doesn’t. He can’t. Because Eddie Diaz has never truly been enough. He’ll just drag Buck down with him.
“Okay,” Buck says quietly and the devastation is clear. All the anger and fight is gone. It’s just Buck and all the pain Eddie’s given him. “Well, let me know when you figure it out.”
He turns without another word, leaving Eddie standing there alone.
They pull into District Twelve a few hours later. Buck emerges from his room looking broken and wrung out; red rimmed eyes and his bottom lip swollen and chewed.
Eddie wants to tell him he misses Buck already, but he doesn’t think it would be fair so he just faces towards the windows as the flash of the camera's burst through the glass. In just a few minutes everyone around Panem will eagerly be watching their homecoming.
Eddie feels fucking sick to his stomach.
He catches Buck extending his hand out of the corner of his eye.
“One more time?” Buck asks, his voice hollow instead of angry, which Eddie thinks is a million times worse. “For the audience?”
Eddie takes his hand, knowing that Buck is already slipping away from him. He holds onto Buck tightly, preparing for the cameras and dreading the moment he has to let go.