Keep your enemies closer [Chester/Wendell]

C H E S T E R .

A genuine grin slowly spread across his face the moment the bird perched itself on his shoulder. It was worth every second of it, but now he had to get back to Teddy. The sun was sinking dangerously low, and the visibility was getting worse. Someone could've found him, and Chester didn't know what to do if his only friend he had left died. But right now all he had to do was make it back to Teddy and move on for the night.

But a branch broke, and Wendell presented himself speaking words of truth. Chester tightened his grip on the cane ready to strike at any given second.

Teddy wasn't useless. He was a friend. Someone Chester cared for more than himself. Teddy gave him a new outlook on life, and he wanted to keep him alive for as long as possible.

But next came the idea of joining him.

"Why would I join you, Wendell?" He asked trying to keep his cool. This man was a bully. He severed Teddy's leg. Yeah fighting along side him may help for the time being, but Chester refused to leave his ally hanging. "Teddy has given me more than you'll ever give me."

He taught him the strength to stand up for himself. To hold onto himself. To cherish the world around him. "To you, he might be useless, but to me, he's more than just some piece of meat locked away inside the arena."

C H E S T E R .

His mind was racing frantically. One thought after another after another, and yet not a single one of them made sense. But Wendell went on talking about how Teddy was as good as dead. Chester huffed loudly shrugging his shoulders. They were similar in so many ways yet different in many others. Wendell wanted to give a show for the citizens of Panem to remember. Chester just wanted to keep a friend alive. For the first time in his life he had someone that cared for him without worry. Someone who had his back. Someone he needed to protect, and while Wendell was offering a lot, Chester wondered just how truthful he was being.

It was true he didn't want to kill Teddy if it came down to just the two of them, but he wouldn't lay down and die. Teddy deserved a chance to fight, and Chester would make sure he had it.

Carrying him into battle wasn't a problem as long as he held onto life. Yes, he wasn't the same man he was before, but who was? The arena changed people. It turned worlds upside down making it impossible to figure out what was right and wrong. It was a grey world locked away in the vivid imagination of the gamemakers.

"I don't want to be remembered as a cold blooded killer who played the games." He snapped. Fingers tightened around the grip of the cane. One quick attack was all it would take to end it all. Just like he had done before. "Nor as a man who abandoned people in need when they had his back the entire time."

A heavy sigh left his chest.

"Don't you get it? Nobody wins. Everyone loses even the one who's lucky enough to make it out of this hellhole alive." His eyes darted from the face of Wendell to the ground beneath his feet then back to the man standing in front of him. "We get to pick who lives and who dies."

He exhaled the breathe he had been holding in. "And I swear to ripred, if you or your goonies lay a hand on Teddy, I'll make sure your deaths are the most painful moments of your entire life."

C H E S T E R .

Wendell was simply wasting his time. Somewhere Teddy lingered by, and Chester wanted nothing more than to go find him. They needed to pack up for the night and move on to a place where they were safe, but nowhere in the arena was safe. Mutts were watching, and tributes were always on the run. As much as Wendell wanted him to join, it was something Chester had to refuse. Leaving Teddy behind was the last thing on his mind, and even if it got him killed, Chester would die a much better man than he would've had he passed away in the bloodbath. They saved his life a couple days ago when Rhetoric fell. Teddy and Rory could've left him behind, but they didn't. They carried on with him every step of the way.

Twelve continued talking about how he hadn't betrayed his allies, and that his heart was still pure -

He scoffed and shifted his gait.

Chester saw right through him. Wendell was nothing more than a bully pressuring others in the game. Trying to make people feel so bad about themselves that they ended their own chances of winning. That wasn't what Chester was about.

Not once did he imagine himself becoming friends with people inside the games; no, he came to win. He came for the crown at the end of the game to simply prove his life was worth it, and that he was more than the mistake his parents made him out to be.

But he wouldn't give up.

Chester folded his arms across his chest while wiping every emotion away.

Wendell wasn't done offering deals. He never cared for his allies. They were just pawns standing in his way, but if Wendell didn't want to live, none of it mattered anyway. It was a show, a game, something that had more meaning to him.

Wendell wanted to help Chester succeed, but if that meant leaving behind his friend, he wouldn't do it.

"They're expendable to you. You don't care for them, which I can understand, but I care for mine. For Teddy. For Rory. For Rhetoric. They did something that nobody else has done for me in my eighteen years of life." Rory and Rhetoric died for him paying a price that he deserved - if only Wendell knew. "I'm not leaving Teddy behind."

His eyes locked on the man standing in front of him as he extended his hand outward, but Chester didn't move.

"So you can take this deal and shove it up your ass."

Wendell was taking up his time when he didn't have much time to spare.

C H E S T E R .

A devilish grin slowly etched itself onto his face. Chester knew who he was playing with, and he knew how to stand his ground. Watching Wendell's face contort only made it better. Nobody stood in his way when it come to taking care of the people he loved. Wendell didn't deserve his company, not after he wrongly sentenced Rory to die. It was something Chester never thought to see in the future of the games. Yes he had killed twice, but he had done it to keep his allies and himself alive. It wasn't fun, no, however, it was the nature of the games. People would die, and Chester just wanted to live.

He watched Wendell back down like he had done in the training center. Chester knew one thing, and one thing only - Wendell had diarrhea of the mouth. Every word he said was nothing more than a pile of liquid crap. It didn't mean anything, but right now, Chester wouldn't walk away.

And yet as Wendell continued making fun of Teddy, Chester felt his blood boiling.

Teddy wasn't just a pawn used in the game anymore. Chester needed him, and it only took two allies dying for him to realize that. The threat Wendell made against Chester only made it worse.

"Why don't you go ahead and stab me in the back? Gut me? Do whatever the hell you want to me?" He paused taking a deep breath trying to contain his emotions from showing through the words exiting his mouth. "You're just a bunch of talk. You haven't done a damn thing to back up your words, twelve."

He barely stopped his jaw from clenching, but his hand tightened even more around the hook of the cane. All it would take was one quick hit to end his life, but Chester wasn't there to start a fight.

Getting back to Teddy was important because he couldn't help him if he was injured himself.

"If you're so damn good at talking to people, then why haven't you been able to control my mind? Why haven't you been able to turn me against what I'm doing?"

If it was possible to breath fire, flames would shoot from his lips.

"And if you're free to do as you please, then why not act upon it?" He raised his brow and cocked his head to the side as Wendell swatted at the bird, "You're a foolish man, Wendell. A foolish man."