bad idea, right? // Roe&Tigs day 3 d12 suites

A fever, a poisoning, and a mountain of blankets later, Roe ends up passed out, tucked in behind the labyrinthian mine of the twelfth floor.

The stumbling to get there is hazy. He remembers Vin under one arm and Mateo under the other; the dank smell of the false underground; the lantern light swinging. Mateo kept glancing over in a way that made Roe want to smack him.

But that's probably where the crux of the logic lies - the other tributes would have to work their way through the all creepy tunnels to even get close.

The shivering's stopped but he's slipping in and out of consciousness, hair plastered to his forehead.

He'd opened his eyes at some point and Mateo was there in the corner fiddling with something, a feverish moment later Vin was pulling the extra bedding from the Avox rooms up to his chin, pressing and folding the covers down even as Roe tried to tell them that he was more than warm enough already.

He's sure he got at least half of the sentence out. The rest is fuzzy.

It's the footsteps that rouse him next, pale smear appearing in the doorway when he cracks his eyes open.

"Vin?"

The bed dips, movement muddled from the pile of blankets.

"Wakey wakey, sweetheart."

He tenses.

"Mateo's just over there." Roe gets out choppily, trying to lift a hand to point but only succeeding in getting caught in the blankets, "Hands to yourself, sweetheart."

He blissfully ignores the fact that if Mateo was still here, he'd still be in the room. It hurts to try and look around anyways, the walls all spin when he tries for too long. He groans when the wave of nausea comes again, squeezing his eyes shut until it passes.

Antigone's still there when he checks again. He glares at her without moving, the edges of her shoulders blurring.

He jostles her death-bat that she's put on the bed. The blood on the woodgrain matches the blood on his hands - all psychological and dark and burning.

"Get this thing away from me." He grumbles, back with his eyes closed. "S'ruining the mood."

Antigone takes the hint and then throws it over her shoulder.

It feels like sharing the bed with a particularly dangerous panther. A particularly dangerous, particularly starving panther. He's being eyed up like he's a cut of prime meat. And he wouldn't exactly be complaining if the circumstances were different, but he's pretty sure she's got guts on her bat still, and he's still in a bit of a daze.

He turns his head on the pillow towards her and it takes a minute for the rest of the room to catch up.

”Is that better?” She asks, less space between them now, her eyes wide on his face.

Not really.

Roe's not stupid enough to say that out loud though.

"Great way to spend a time-out." He says flatly.

Because that's what this really is. In that haze, he had yelled at Mateo, shoved him, probably tried to knife him - he can't remember. He just remembers Mateo looking blank and Vin looking tired and then they put Roe to bed and both left.

They left.

And now he's stuck here with Antigone trying to play sexy nursemaid.

He's about to say something shitty again, probably something that'll either send her running or send her stabbing, but her hands find their way into his hair and he starts to melt in a way that's entirely involuntary. His eyes start to drift shut again.

Fuck Vin and Mat. They can't handle him - that's their problem. He bit the hand too hard; the new collar's a choke chain. He never said he was going to be good.

“You’re too late.” He smiles, nasty. "Vin already sucked the poison out."