Pull Me Out From Inside // [Arbor]

for what it's worth, I have a slow disease that sucked me dry... I always aim to please
but I nearly died

Every year another Games rolled around, and every year Mace marched two tributes to the Capitol. It was becoming routine, which about the most depressing thing he could think of. The first two years had been more difficult than anything he'd ever done. The first, knowing that he was bringing two fresh faced citizens of Ten. The second, knowing that he was saying goodbye to his brother, even if the word never left his lips. But in this third year since his first trip on the train, Mace found a sort of rhythm. Collect the tributes, size them up, rage at them, and retreat to Julian after putting them in their coffins tubes.

At least this year the Games meant that he would soon be returning to Ten. The Reaping had been a tease, a taste of humidity and blazing summer sun before being whisked back to the mountainous Capitol. He found on the train ride that he thought often of the other victors, of getting to see them again. It was a novel feeling, to have friends. Even though they only saw each other once every year, it was a deeper and truer friendship than almost any other he'd had. And they were more than that. Julian, his lover. Ara, the mother of his son Kieran. They were becoming a family, albeit a very fucked up one.

And families don't ignore each other.

He'd done his best to avoid Arbor, and when it came time to celebrate with Topaz, he was careful never to look at him lest he should find that he had a few violent tendencies left. He was fairly sure after his confrontation with Lydie and Damion that they had dried up, that he could not longer find any desire - or any will - to wrap his hands around another's throat. It was a relief. It meant he could finally face Arbor, and all that hung between them.

The night that Lydie died Mace told his stylists he was going to see Julian, and told Julian he was going to see his stylists. One excuse was very believable, the other less so. But it had felt to Mace that Julian was hiding things too, and so he didn't feel bad about it. If anything the lie was to help their relationship, and he didn't plan to keep his meeting a secret. No. If he had his way, all of the other victors would know soon, too.

The elevator rose to a level he usually frequented to see Ara and his son. The penthouse. It had seemed stupid to him - to everyone - that Twelve had been given such a privilege, but then Arbor had won, then Ara, then Heron, and now they had the most recent victors to house. It was little wonder that people used to talk about how the Capitol favored Twelve. That clearly wasn't the case any more, even if the Careers had suffered in the last decade. He hoped Damion would put them through a little more suffering.

Mace stepped out of the elevator, his black boots heavy on the tile. As often as he could he wore his outfits from Ten, which had been considerably upgraded since the fifty-nineth. Now he wore deep pockets cargo pants, a black leather belt, and soft linen shirt that was cut in a deep V at his chest. The outfit would have sent his stylists screaming for the hills, but Julian had given him the shirt, and he found a great many uses for cargo pants these days. They would have made ranching easier, but he couldn't have afforded them back then, when life was simpler. He almost wished life could be that way again. Almost. If not for Julian, Ara, Kieran, and Topaz, Heron, Lethe, and even baby Klaus.

But there was no way to avoid Arbor forever. More than that - Mace didn't want to. The news had reached him much later, if only because Julian and he never, ever spoke Arbor's name. He was glad to have some distance, some time to process before he saw the lonely Victor of the 54th again. He'd done his thinking, much good it would probably do him, and now he was ready. Mace ducked into Ara's room, dropped a kiss on Kieran's head, and promised to be back as soon as he could.

He felt the vague numbing that preceded shivering in his fingertips as he stood outside of Arbor's door. He felt a little echo of it in his belly and wondered if it would ignite. Mace lifted his dead grey eyes to the wood, and then used the back of his fist to pound four times. "Arbor? Open up."