take my hand {kay; blitz

The train was fucking sick. He'd seen it outside plenty of times. One time he'd blocked from memory entirely. It had been so sleek as it zoomed away, caring Opal to greater things. Now, it was his turn, and he was inside the magic bullet that would lead him to destiny. He'd waved goodbye before a Peacekeeper plucked him from the doorway and deposited him in the lavish sitting room. Francesca had disappeared, and Opal had gone ahead. So he sat with the escort and stylist, laughing at the scenes passing by, delighting in the food presented to him.

At some point he remembered. He remembered that this was not a free ride to the glory of the Capitol, but a test of his mettle. He excused himself with a flourish of his hat - kindly reinstated by his sister - and retired to his room. He found everything he needed and more, more even than a Career family from One could have asked for. A straight razor and soft, silky suds. He cleaned his face, wiped away the grime of the train dust with a towel, and heard a knock at the door.

Oh Argo, what have you done.

He pretended not to hear. But upon seeing her, Opal Shore Victor of District One, he could no longer pretend. The switch flipped, and Argo deflated. "What do you want?" He asked, one hand feathering the edge of his fedora, the other shoved into his pocket. No smile drew out his lips, no open hug was offered. He didn't want to hear what Opal had to say, didn't want to be warned. The warning had been a siren at her funeral. But it had also been a chorus at Opal's homecoming. He wouldn't listen to words meant to bring him down. What have you done.

"I'm going to win." He says, all conviction as he meets her gaze.

He'd almost forgotten, because it had been so long since they had been just brother and sister. These days, it was brother and victor. No, tribute and victor. He hadn't thought of Opal as just herself - a mere mortal - in years.

So when she grabbed his neck, drew him into a hug, he froze at first. Victors didn't hug. But then he smelled her, vaguely earthy and the sharp sweetness that cut through every Shore's musk. His shoulders sagged as he drew a ring around her waist with his arms.

"I'm sorry too," he said, holding her tightly. Sorry for forgetting who you are, but not sorry for discovering myself. He leaned his cheek against her soft hair, not quite able to reach his chin over her head. "I know I am. I'm going to throw the biggest damn party the victor's village has ever seen. Just you wait." He grinned at the flickering image in his mind, of dividing up the Shores and housing half in each mansion. Although he'd probably have to fight Opal for Petal and Phena. Well, not fight. Argue. That would be no fighting with Opal, not after today.

"Suppose we better get to the train," he said after a moment. But he didn't want to let go. His elbows had locked in conjunction with his heart. Here he was, with his sister, in his district, inches from his family. It's only for a little while, he reminded himself. "You think they'll let me take the fedora into the arena?" He grinned, forcing his arms to drop, forcing himself to be the tribute instead of the brother.