& the viper || jb oneshot

Elya's grandfather tried to follow her into the justice building to see Dan off. Having grown up with all too much of Clint Johnwayne hanging around to recognize that his intentions were anything but good, she pulled him in close by the front of his shirt. "You are not to so much as enter the building until Dan is well on his way to the Capitol," she hissed, spitting venom, "or so help me ripred, they will never find your body." On most days, her big brother was the only one who was bold enough to directly threaten their grandfather, but this was not most days.

She strolled across the marble floor of the stout stone building as if she owned the place, despite the fact that every memory she had in the building was a negative one. A peacekeeper tried to lead her to the room where Dan was being held, but Elya waved off the help and sped past the man in the white uniform. She trained her ears on the click of boots on marble behind her, having already learned the hard way not to let peacekeepers out of her line of vision.

The door was flanked by guards on either side, as if Dan was stupid enough to make a break for... well, he might be. She eyed both of the peacekeepers and barged right in without bothering to ask for permission. Her big brother was situated in a simple room, a stone bench on one wall, shooting right out of the stone walls and stone floor. He himself looked as if he might be a stone golem, sitting stiller and more straight-backed than Elya had ever remembered seeing him before. The Dan she knew was constantly fidgeting, with no regard for his posture. Then again, the Dan she knew had not just volunteered to go off and die in some wilderness thousands and thousands of miles away.

She studied her brother. "You're not coming back to me, are you." It wasn't a question, but for a brief moment, he looked as if he was going to lie to her anyway. A small facial twitch gave him away, and he dropped the ruse before he took it up. Dan Johnwayne looked her dead in the eye, jaw as firm-set as ever. "No, sis, I'm not."

Elya had figured as much. Her big brother was never one to chase glory, and had no illusions about his own abilities. Particularly compared to what he was up against. The careers of their district spoke of the Games as if it were some great cakewalk, but the reality of the matter was that they, for the most part, died. There were two dozen in the arena, a handful trained as well as the likes of the District Twos, and the rest were just as desperate to stay alive. Hell, even if one of them made it back, there was always that other fatality.

No, Dan was right: he wouldn't be making the trip back. "Then why?" she asked, not a trace of anger inside her. Just genuine curiosity. "Why make the one-way trip?" Dan's reply came without a missed beat in between: "What else am I going to do?"

She frowned. "Well nothing now, obviously." But you could've done anything. He read her mind, as he had so often done before. "What was I supposed to do, become a peacekeeper?" He spat at the mention of Panem's police force. Her brother had never liked the law, but his opinion of them had soured drastically over the past two years — more than even Elya's had, and she'd been the one to experience having her eye cut out. Dan got the blame and the backlash for it, despite her protests, but he attributed the actions of one peacekeeper to the rest of them. For a pragmatist, her brother wasn't always the most rational of people.

Elya could hardly blame him, though; she'd've reacted similarly had it been Dan who was mutilated. As it had always been between the two of them, an strike against one was an attack on the other. They'd had an abnormally close relationship for siblings, but in the context of their upbringing, it made perfect sense. The two needed to have each others' backs in the face of their fucked-up family tree. Only with a united front could they have hoped to face the likes of John Johnwayne's indifference, Myrcene Johnwayne's suicide, and Clint Johnwayne's constant string-pulling.

There was a long silence, finally broken by Dan's voice. It was quieter than usual, the way he said it — as if his craggy front had finally worn itself smooth after so many batterings. "I'm sorry, Elya." He sighed, and she could tell that he truly was — for her sake, if not for his own. She didn't want him to be. "For what?" she asked, forcing a meek smile. "You haven't gone and died on me yet." She put a hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. He put his on top of hers, covering it fully. Not to be outdone, Elya placed her other on top of the stack, making an odd sort of hand sandwich.

For a minute, maybe two, they were still. Though the duo were perfectly relaxed, something about the justice building introduced an atmosphere of tension, and it seemed Dan couldn't bear the silence any longer. "I'm going to look for him," he announced, withdrawing his hand from in between hers. "While I'm out there. If he's in the Capitol I'm gonna find him and fuck him up. That's why I'm going."

Elya opened her mouth to protest — the retaliation for brutalizing a peacekeeper would be absurd — but quickly closed it. Her brother was many things, and while headstrong was one of them, thick-headed he was not. Dan knew what he was getting into, and it was his decision. She'd had to call him off his twelve-district revenge campaign back when she was laid up in bed recovering from the wound — not an easy thing to do, considering their grandfather had tried to forbid Dan from visiting. But Elya was discreet enough to make it out of their tiny house without being caught, broken leg and crutch in tow. It wasn't impractical to climb out the window when her bedroom was on the first floor, particularly since they lacked a screen for her to bother with.

She'd hobbled all the way across the district to the weak spot in the fence they'd found during an escalating series of dares half a decade prior. Far as she knew, the hole under the wire was still there since they'd stuck a shrub in its place to prevent it discovery. Elya found him there, shovel in hand, trying to tear up their nondescript yet flourishing bush. He had a burlap sack filled mostly with knives, but other than that was unprepared to face the years of wilderness that were a given with unauthorized inter-district travel. It was never hard for her to talk Dan down from whatever stupid decision he was about to make next.

Elya insisted that she was stopping him from being an idiot — and she was: he'd've died before he even made it to District Three. But, truth be told, Elya wanted to take revenge for herself. There was no need for Dan to hold the knife, much as she knew he would love to play the part of the protective big brother he'd always tried to be. Elya, however, was not some useless damsel and, despite her injury suggesting the contrary, did not need protecting. "Thank you," she finally said. If the peacekeeper who cut her was in the Capitol, he was out of her reach — likely he'd still be out of Dan's, but it was something.

They didn't have much time left, but Elya had nothing to tell her brother that he hadn't already heard from her before. She told him a few anyhow, just for old time's sake: "I know it's hard for you," she teased, "but don't be stupid, okay?" This actually drew a rare chuckle out of her brother, who mussed up her hair in response. She winked at him, though it was indistinguishable from her one-eyed blink.

Her face grew a shade more serious. "I miss you already," she said softly, unable to keep the note of sadness from her voice. Dan, after all, was and had been her best friend since she was small. She knew a lot of people who detested their siblings, or who at the very least didn't like them, but she and her big brother had always been thick as thieves. She wasn't upset that he was leaving, wasn't angry that he had no plans to return, it was just... Dan was the only family she considered family, and his was a hole she'd be entirely unable to fill.

"Don't." She gave a bark of laughter. As if it was that simple. "I miss you." "Don't." "Okay, now I don't." "Fine, asshole," she retorted. "Let me get out of your hair then." She turned to leave. Neither of the Johnwayne siblings cared for drawn-out goodbyes.

"Hey, Elya, wait —" She paused, hand closed around the doorknob. "Make sure Gracie doesn't name her next kid something awful, okay? It's mine." Elya paused for a second, caught entirely off-guard. A torrent of laughter exploded from her, and it took her a full minute to compose herself. "Oh that's rich," she breathed, still cracking up. "Clint has to be absolutely awful in the sack, doesn't he, you're fucking her too!" She had to sit down on the floor and wait for her fit of laughter to subside. When she was finished, she had a stream of tears down the right side of her face. She wiped them away with a sigh, and an additional "oh, that's rich" before clearing her throat and turning back to Dan.

"Fine then, I promise I will," she assured him, standing up to leave once more. "Be good, okay, Dan?" She exited the room, but as soon as she closed the door behind her, she opened it and poked her head back in. "I love you," she told him, ducking her head back out. She shut the door before he had a chance to tell her to stop being stupid.