kingdom come undone [abel/eleven jb]

Returning from the county fair meant the reaping was near. Time after Six died had passed as slow as molasses, but the last few weeks slipped out of Eleven’s view before he could even process them. He ached for the painful crawl of the last several months, for it had at least made the reaping a small blip far away on the horizon. With each day that passed in the week leading up to the reaping, Eleven progressively lost both his appetite and hours of sleep. He laid awake at night and replayed Six’s final moments over and over until he passed out from exhaustion. His worry surprisingly didn’t stem from his risk of following in Six’s footsteps; it was the high chance that another one of his siblings would be taken from him that kept him up at night. The O’Malleys were nowhere near being whole, and Eleven was probably the most fragile of them all. The O’Malleys had stayed safe from the games for so long, but it now seemed inevitable that a slip with their famed last name would be chosen each year.

The morning of the reaping, Eleven could barely make it out of bed. He was weak from the lack of food and sleep, and his anxiety weighed his whole body down. While everybody was downstairs eating breakfast, he took the time to slowly and shakily dress himself, anxious to get the task done without any of his siblings eyeing him. He could feel the tears bud behind his eyes as he buttoned up a hand-me-down from Six, but none made it further than the corners of his eyes. It was always obvious when Eleven had been crying, as his cheeks would turn as red as his eyes. He knew Prop had been worried about him and would be watching him extra closely today, and he didn’t want to add any more stress to his brother’s day.

The rest of the morning proceed just like the one a year before, so much so that he almost tricked himself into believing Six was standing just in front of him in the crowd. The bubble was broken as soon as the escort crossed the stage in a different outfit from last year, bringing Eleven back to present reality. They pulled out a slip of paper from the female bowl and read out Luya Feng. Eleven breathed out a sigh of relief as they escorted the girl to the stage. His sisters were safe for another year. All he needed was for another random name to be called, and they could all go home and truly begin to pick up the pieces of their lives. He knew it wasn’t right to wish for somebody else to be sent to their death, but somebody had to be picked.

It was as if God had heard his malicious thoughts, because the next slip drawn was the one Eleven had prayed wouldn’t be picked.

"Prop O’Malley!"

Eleven’s world dropped out from under him as he watched everybody turn toward his older brother. His body went numb and his vision started to swirl in front of him. This couldn’t be real. It couldn’t be happening again. What had they done for God to punish them like this again? Prop could barely even make his way to the stage on his still-broken leg and crutches. There was no way he could survive past the bloodbath like that. Taking Six away somehow hadn’t been enough. Eleven had learned to lean on Prop these last few months, and now he was being swept out from under him too.

Eleven’s stomach lurched as Prop finally broke free of the crowd and began to hobble toward the stage. His thoughts were racing through his head a mile a minute and all he could see was Prop crippled on the floor of the arena.

"Prop, no," he moaned, trying to come back to reality. He couldn’t just stand rooted in place from the shock; he had to do something, even if it meant sacrificing himself. Prop was the glue that was holding the siblings together, and Eleven didn’t want to be around when everything crumbled. He started pushing through the crowd, unsure of what his plan was. He knew Prop would never let him volunteer, but Eleven wasn’t sure that the escorts would care as long as he said those two magical words. Before Eleven could even make it to the front of the crowd, somebody ahead of him beat him to the punch.

"I volunteer!"

It wasn’t until the boy turned to take the steps that he realized it was his cousin taking Prop’s place. Eleven fell to his knees as Abel took his place on the stage, sealing his fate and reversing Prop’s. The tears from the morning finally sprung free and rained down his cheeks.

"Thank you," he whispered, unsure of if his thanks were to Abel or to God.

---

Most of his family went home without a second thought, but Eleven couldn’t shake the questions he had for his cousin. Sure, they were family, but Eleven couldn’t imagine him or any of his siblings volunteering if the situation was reversed. Abel had unintentionally saved his life, and Eleven couldn’t quite piece together why. As much as I wanted to follow my sibling's trail home and finally fill up on food and sleep, I knew I couldn’t relax without at least thanking Abel.

There was a long line of people who seemed to have similar thoughts as Eleven, including some of his siblings. He waited around until they had all gone, knowing it would be difficult for him to keep his emotions in check. The peacekeeper motioned for him to enter, and he nervously crossed into the room. He hadn’t ever been particularly close with his cousin, and he wasn’t sure if he should prod him for answers, or if it was better to just give his thanks.

The door shut behind him, and the silence seemed to stretch on forever while Eleven’s indecision bounced around in his head. He eventually decided to just combine his options into one and hoped that his cousin wouldn’t be too off-put by what he wanted to say.

"I don’t know why you did it, but I wanted to come and thank you. Losing Six was hard enough. I don’t know what I would’ve done if I had to lose Prop too… So thank you."

Another beat of silence passed, and Eleven couldn’t stop the remaining words from spilling out of his mouth.

"Why did you do it, though?" he whispered.