shaking off the rust // d9 train {98th}

This was a terrible idea.

Unfortunately for Storm, he's long since learned that most terrible ideas are oft wrapped in good intentions. Throw your life on the line in empathy of a brother and a desire to stand out and prove yourself, and gain enough trauma to weigh you down for what is now a third of his life, check. Go to the Capitol alongside Avriel and Eden, do what you can to remove the burden from the former's shoulders and the latter's obligatory assistance, and break down so heavily you nearly become the Capitol's youngest recovering alcoholic (and never again, after that, at least, was easy). Try again the year after, and experience such a heavy panic attack over getting drugged that you didn't talk to anyone for nearly a month afterwards. Take the next two years off, watch the 96th and 97th from afar, knowing that really, it's the best thing for you but internalizing the guilt each and every time a tribute from your home dies (Maybe, with your help, you could have empathized with the volunteer Gunner, or gotten Rhys past the top eight, or, hell, gotten Dana or Matt out of the freaking rigged ass Bloodbath they were in).

And now he's here, taking over for Avriel, because goddammit, he's twenty one now, a man grown, and the least he could do is fucking act like it.

Only he'd gotten on the train and it was like all of the haunts of the last seven years had just been waiting for him to return only to bite him in the ass. He'd stumbled over his words to a distraught Helga and a clammed up Kristof (both older than he had been during his own failed blaze of glory but somehow so, so young at the same time) and he'd gone back to his room beating himself up over it again and again.

How had Avriel done this on his own for so long? How could Storm had left him again when he was supposed to help him?

Nothing had changed. Once again, he was playing shepherd to two lost little lambs, destined to get butchered by forces outside of his control.

(At least he could spare Avriel the burden, just this once. Or would he be like Storm had been - locked in his house in the Victor's Village, seeing nobody, barely eating, just eyes glued to the television as if through sheer willpower he could will one of the kids he should be helping home?

Nah. Avriel always handled things better than he had.)

Whether it's luck, fate, or the inexorable hold of insomnia he's not sure, but Storm was still awake when the train bumped, then screeched to a halt well before what should have been their early morning arrival in the Capitol. When it doesn't immediately start back up, he sighs a long-suffering sigh, throws on a robe, and goes out to investigate personally.

Because of course it's not enough to just be saddled with a hopeless cause for however many weeks, even the supposed immaculate Capitol technology has to break when he's around.

He does not find an engineer, or the escort. He does find an avox, and with perhaps a tad more annoyance than normal, he asks her to find out what happened and report back so he can know if it's safe to sleep or not. Then, of course, as she scurries away to who-knows-where, another wave of guilt washes over him. It's not like it was her fault, was it?

He understands now why some people wash their stress down with alcohol. But never again, not for him.

He moves to pinch the bridge of his nose, halfway caught through a huge sigh, when movement out of the corner of his eye draws his attention. And another wave of guilt crashes down, because of course - the fucking kids. The fucking traumatized kids who got plucked from their ordinary lives to a virtually confirmed death sentence and have no idea what's going on.

Storm takes a deep breath. He counts to five. He imagines a particular scene - what would Av and Eden do? - and then he turns.

"Are you guys okay?" Rhetorical - the bump had been more of an annoyance than anything - but polite. "Trust me when I say this is not what usually happens."