The Fault Line // {Career Mayors}

She spoke with a voice that disrupted the sky
She said walk on over here to the bitter shade
I will wrap you in my arms and you'll know that you're saved

Fabian had rarely left District Four, even on official business. It wasn't customary, and though he'd entertained other Mayors, it also wasn't really his style. He would rather be within eyesight of the ocean at all times, and invariably leaving Four drew him further and further from the waves. On the train to One he thought of his mistress constantly, of her sticky, salty scent and biting embrace. He'd joined her that morning, dove down and down when usually he skimmed the surface. It was only after cutting up his calf on an outcrop of coral that he dragged himself out of the water, bloody and nowhere close to exhausted.

His muscles ached on the long ride over, cramped by lack of use rather than exercise. He distracted himself with small talk, smiled tightly when it was clear both he and his wife already missed their children. But there had been no denying, no skirting, the missive from Snow. And Fabian was not in the habit of ignoring any commands from the President, not after that day half a decade ago.

Fabian hadn't intended to nap, but the train lulled him into a stupor. He awoke as it jerked to a stop at the station in One. He came back to consciousness all at once, one leaping heart beat as he turned to Althea. He squeezed her hand, knowing that they would soon be apart as well. He knew she could help in ways he could not, and Fabian had a sneaking suspicion that the Mayors were not the only people ordered to the district to help with the earthquake aftermath.

They'd felt no more than a shudder, a strange rolling wave come through the district. It was almost pleasant to most in Four; it felt like being in a boat on a calm day at sea. They hadn't thought much of it until the televisions flickered, and the news shuffled between panic in One and controlled messages from the Capitol. Fabian was positive someone had gotten fired over the on-air conflict, but what was seen could not be unseen. He thought of the buildings collapsed, the people trapped, and he would have gone to One, even if he had not been so terrified of President Snow.

Disembarking dumped them into an almost physical air of tension. People were clearly still worried, still distraught, but already the Capitol had come through and set the tone. The Perches were met by a young girl, pretty enough in spite of all of her Capitol adornments. She steered them through the district, and Fabian peered in every shattered window, every gaping door to see rubble and destruction. The streets had been cleared but nothing yet had been done about the buildings. When they arrived in the district square, Fabian paused by one shattered stack of glass to shake the dust from his hair. The Capitol liaison informed him that he would need to remain in the square while accommodations were sought and the organizers informed of his arrival. She disappeared in the crowd, leaving Fabian to kiss his wife on her forehead before he began to wave his way through, looking for someone who could tell him what actually was going on, and how he could be useful.

He hadn't intended to look for the Mayor of District One, but then when he spotted her, it made perfect sense. She had to have some answers, and he liked to think they'd always been on friendly enough terms. Getting close to Gentry Morgan, however, was more difficult. Fabian had grown far too use to official functions with long carpets and Peacekeepers to hold back the crowds. He pushed and he fought his way forward until one of her aides recognized him and waved him forward.

"Mayor Morgan," he greeted her with a smile that opened his whole face. "It's been too long, but I can't say as I'm happy about the circumstances. It's a terrible tragedy," he said as he presented his palm to her. It was a rehearsed speech, one scripted for him, but at least it was short. He took a bolder step towards her. "I would've come, you know, no matter what." And nobody had written those words for him.