CAP: Early Steps (Jack)

Whilst sitting alone in the waiting room, not needing to tell those behind the desk I am just sitting, I take a deep breath and rid my nose and lungs of the lingering hospital smells. It is only now that I can begin to feel reality slip back into me, as the morphling is for starters; wearing off, but also it is being weaned off. Meaning I am getting better, finally. A week is a long time for somebody like me. I always like to be on the move, doing something important and productive. Suddenly, my train of thought moves to work, and I think of how my absence will impact that. Not much, they have plenty of bored workers to use. And my brother did say he would work overtime.

"Don't you worry mate, I've got it all sorted." He told me. I trusted him, and still do. Genuinely, there are few people that compare to his capability to be relied on. Twins are like that, though. They are everything you are, but more and less at the same time - their edges are curved while yours are square, but still you make the same shape in the end. We're not identical, but everybody seems to think we act it. It's true, we both use the bow, and we both entered the pregames and failed. Me more than him though, clearly. "I can't really thank you enough." I replied to him. "Don't then. That's why I'm here." Always lands a smile on my face, too. I can't be sure whether there are more brotherly people in the world, or if it is just here, in my family, that they reside.

There is a television in the corner of the room. It shoes Saffron Lowe, the winner of the 65th Annual Hunger Games, taking her victory once more in reminder that the next Games are soon. I envy her. She's young, a victor, and has a lot of time ahead of her. But then again, all of those are disadvantages in Panem.

I raise my head and suddenly, out of the blue, there is a familiar face. "What are you doing down here?" I laugh at a polite level. "Nice to see you too." I don't sound snide. I sound happy to see him again. It is strange how this situation has drawn us together. If only he knew about me and Mark, who I just found out would be in the finale fight, and how I could easily have shot an arrow through his skull for nearly handing me in to the Peacekeepers. "Have they released you?" I shake my head at him, something I'm actually able to do now. A smile raises to my face yet again, reminding me of how pleasant new company is - especially out of that hospital room. I wouldn't tell him, but my whole body still feels stiff and conquered by drugs. In fact, it was only today I was permitted to leave the room, never mind down a staircase or two. I did it anyway, because that's what people do to escape - they hesitate. That's exactly mine and Matthew's situation. We did what we could to escape. And to escape we had to win.

"How are you doing?" I want to respond telling him how valuable the visits from him have been to my recovery. I hold my tongue for a moment, though. "Yeah, good... Apparently I'm fit to be out of here next week. The main thing was blood loss, now it's just the stitches in my neck. If I push the boundaries too far they might loosen and then I'd have to rewind and start over. Won't happen, though." I feel a guilt in me that I haven't felt for a while. My eyes are looking at his hand in the splint and I realize that I haven't paid much attention to his injuries. I've been selfish. "Is your hand gonna be alright?" I nod my head to his hand, wanting to influence an answer about his fingers - since I'm entirely responsible for their outcome. Half of my mind is focused on bringing up the fact Mark is his opponent, however. I have to, I need to tell him that he has to win.

I slip my hands into my pockets. There isn't much in them except an old receipt and my little paper ticket that I was given to prove I was allowed in the fight. I take a deep breath. "Did you actually fight Mark during training? You don't have to tell me but I could use some pointers. He's practically taken apart his last opponent." I wish that Mark hadn't. I wish that he had lost and that Matthew was facing somebody less prepared. Though there is a chance. If I could sway the odds, tell Matthew what I know, I could potentially give him an edge. "I didn't fight him, but I didn't need to. He practically told me everything." ... "Any idea about his favorite weapon?" I nod, confirming it to myself first so that I don't get this wrong. It is key to Matt's success. "Yeah, he uses two swords. I don't expect he will be shy of coming close with those. My thoughts were when I used my bow were; He won't get close, it's fine. But you did, and that's where my weapon was then useless. With Mark, he'll have to get close, and you'll have to keep him at distance." I sigh to myself, realizing that I'm talking to the person who beat me in the arena. "Well, you know all this already." I smile though, I don't want things to turn sour.

Suddenly I think back, and literally to my back as well. When I had just turned seventeen, me and my brother got matching tattoos on our backs... Mine won't actually match his anymore. It will be skewed and off-center. The tattoo was of a vulture, pasted in Capitol symbols, carrying all of the districts in it's claws. It stretched across my back shoulder to hip. Now, it has a huge scar running all the way through.

Right through the Capitol's eyes, freeing the Districts.

"Do you think you can do it?" I ask. He has to. I don't even want to think about the odds of Mark winning the actual Games - I don't even want him close to that victory.

"Well you beat me, and I've had the chance to kill him, so I'd go with; You can." I want to tell him how he has to, but the pressure could easily build. Though I don't know how he handles pressure. He could be anyone to me. I realize that I don't know him at all. The only thing we have to our names is experience and that was only that one time. The first time we met, I was simply new to the game. Now there's pieces on the board I find it difficult to measure where we stand. Of course, we're developing a friendship, but where will it end? When I leave the hospital?

I go on to tell him what happened between me and Mark. "It was after a training session. One of the trainers spoke to Mark and he took it the wrong way completely. He did something, I wasn't checking because I was unaware, but the next minute she's running out screaming about seeing things in the walls." I pause as somebody walks by, I lower my voice as their shadow runs across my face. "He tells me to grab a weapon and follow him, he was already holding his. I had to, who knows what he would have done otherwise? So I did, and all he wanted was to hunt outside the fences. On our way back in, a peacekeeper caught us. I dropped my bow and he dropped his sword but in a quick flash he had the peacekeeper's gun and had her in a headlock. I had my bow aimed right at his head."

"Could have shot."

"Should have shot."

I sigh to myself. "Sorry..." I laugh a little at the situation. "Got carried away. But seriously, he is dangerous but you can do it. If not for yourself you could always make him pay his debt for getting me caught by that peacekeeper."

I see him figuring me out, whether I'm lying or not. I know that if I act normal he won't wrongly suspect, so I continue. "I'd just met the kid, and the peacekeeper would detain me regardless of my actions. What he did after I simply turned and left, I don't really know. I don't want to, really." I pause. "The next time I seen him he was in the arena. I can only assume the worst really."

"If I have a reason I can be just as bad as he is." My eyes land on him as though I have a duty to speak again. "I wouldn't stoop to his level. He clearly has some sick brain ticking away." I see him look to my bandage briefly. I can see what this simple gesture could mean. I see it as, maybe he's the sick one. I abandon my vengeful thoughts though, it isn't healthy to hold a grudge in District Two unless you're off to the Games - I am clearly not. "What's his weakness?" The question hits my battleship as I find myself unable to answer. I search for a moment, briefly. "Not sure, really. The only thing he told me about himself was that a lot of his family are poor and were unable to keep themselves from..." I leave that there, no need to clarify it. I feel for Mark, though. But I know that if I do, I'll end up putting myself in a dilemma that I won't be able to return from; being caught between two people's hatred for one and other. "You'll do fine though. And if not, well -" I pause, and put on a humorous smile; "Hospital care is decent enough. You won't be going far."