Flynn's New Gang Member (Open) @troylus, @weiss, @muffinface

Rose snorted in amusement. “Here’s some free advice for you, seeing as I’m feeling generous. Don’t be all begging like that around Flynn. He hates it. I mean if he’s about to beat you to death, go for it, but just on the little things, lay off.”

“Beat me to death? S’that...that ain’t likely. Anyway, I wasn’t beggin’. I just wanted him to listen to me. He wasn’t listenin’. An’ he wasn’t doin’ what he promised.”

Rose scowled moodily, “He don’t gotta do anythin’ but he ain’t never made me no promises anyways.” She looked at the bread in her hand. “You hungry?”

“Yeah, I really am.” Ryan admitted, moving closer to her.

She took another bite of the bread, savouring it blatantly this time. “You look real skinny. Not the skinniest I ever seen, but pretty tiny. How old are you?”

“I’m fifteen. How old are you?”

“Same. What’d you give me for this bread then?”

“I don’t got nuthin’,” Ryan admitted, realising suddenly that Flynn had dragged him out of the orphanage before he could get any of his things. He didn’t have anything at all other than the clothes he was standing in. Even his birth certificate was gone.

She took another bite, carelessly now, trying to really rub it in that she had it and no one else did. “That sucks for you.” She sat down on a piece of sacking strung between two posts. “So how come I never seen you before at the baby farm?”

“What’s a baby farm? You don’t grow babies like that, you know.” Ryan had heard other parents tell their children that babies came from the cabbage patch, but he’d been there when all his sisters had been born, so he knew better.

Rose narrowed her one eye at him suspiciously. “Flynn’s baby farm. It’s what he calls where we all grow up, with Nanny Barns.”

“I didn’t grow up there. I grew up with my mama and my sisters. My mama died a few months ago an’ we were sent to the orphanage. I only found Mister Flynn today.”

Rose looked to a few of the older children for confirmation of her doubts about Ryan’s story. It was such a strange thing for Flynn to bring in a child who wasn’t a baby. Unheard of. But she wasn’t very good at this social stuff, and really wished Flynn hadn’t suggested her as the one to get the new boy up to speed, especially if he didn’t even know the basics from the farm.
Ryan mistook her look and protested, “I ain’t even lyin’. S’what happened.”

“You found him?” another boy asked from the shadows. “What’cha mean by that then?”

“He’s my dad. I been lookin’ for him. Only just found him today though.”

The entire room erupted in amazed whispering and muttering.

Rose looked shocked. “Your Dad?”

“Yeah. Don’t think he even knew about me. You’re his nephews an’ nieces an’ stuff, right? So...we’re cousins?” It seemed like a lot of cousins.

One small boy shuffled aside and gave Ryan a weak smile of welcome, patting the space between himself and the slimy brick wall.

It wasn’t a nice place for a bed, but Ryan realised the boy had given him the better spot and moved over to put his bundle of rags against the wall. “Thanks.”
“I don’t pee the bed no more, promise,” The boy whispered, revealing himself as the one who had stained the sheets. “That were just my first night, and...you know?” He didn’t look much older than ten, small and stunted as he was.

“S’okay.” Ryan assured him. “S’kinda scary here. I wish Mister Flynn had stayed.”

The boy shook his head with a terrified squeak. “No way. He’s the scariest part of here. He really your Dad?”

“Yeah. Reckon he is. Does he really hit you a lot?” Ryan wasn’t a stranger to being hit. He’d been struck a few times at school when his mind had wandered, and his mother had had a series of boyfriends who’d liked to drink and then get violent. He’d always run when he could, but mostly he’d tried to defend his sisters, and his mother, rather than running away. He hadn’t enjoyed it though. It hadn’t occurred to him while he was searching that his father might be like that as well.

The boy paled. “I ain’t been here long, but I heard a kid was beaten so bad that he got taken away in the night and never came back. The others say he died.”

Ryan felt a chill and snuggled deeper into his pile of rags, “Really? They think Mister Flynn killed him? S’gotta be wrong, right? Maybe he went to the hospital.” He touched his cheek where Flynn had struck him, already doubting his own words. But Flynn had only hit him once. He hadn’t kept hitting when Ryan was down.

The boy moved closer to Ryan trying to share his warmth and comfort. “Some of the babies get real sick and Uncle Flynn never takes ‘em to the hostifield.”

“Oh, poor sick babies,” Ryan frowned sympathetically. “Maybe...maybe he don’t know they’re sick?”

“Nanny was always on at him to take ‘em before they died, so she wouldn’t have to listen to them cry. But he never took ‘em until after…” The boy tucked himself against Ryan, clearly used to sharing the floor with other children.

It was too horrible to think about and Ryan snuggled closer to the other boy, glad of the warmth and comfort of another person. “S’terrible. Poor babies.” He chewed on his lip and lowered his voice, “What’s he do with us? He said somethin’ about trainin’ tomorrow, but I got school.”

“Dunno about you, ‘coz you sound special, being his kid’n all,” the boy muttered sleepily. “But the rest of us gotta train most days, fighting and sneaking, and slight of hand stuff mostly.”

“That ain’t what you’re supposed to learn,” Ryan mumbled, ‘S’supposed to be readin’ an’ writin’ an’ maths, an’ history of Panem an’ stuff.

The boy shrugged, unsure what to say. “I’m Oliver. Nice to meet you Ryan.”