Silence Roams Away {Weaver/Iona}

He left when everyone else departed, and the tension finally settled down. Yet his eyes were filled with anger and grief as a tiny tear slid down the side of his face. All he wanted was a chance to punch Kirito to take him off the high horse he put himself on, but he knew it was wrong. The three victors only wanted to help despite how angry they were, but Weaver didn't need their help because they were only going to destroy him.

Fire still burned inside him, and with every step he took he imagined himself kicking President Snow over and over until nothing but a bloody pulp remained. Maybe if he had only volunteered to Iain Miristioma last year none of this would've happened. But he couldn't find it inside of him to focus on that thought for long because living on the what if's would only ruin however much time of his life was left. Every emotion bubbled inside him tearing away at his soul piece by piece until almost nothing remained except a broken child running away from his family after a terrible fight.

With his head down, he journeyed through the train wanting to find a place to have a bit of alone time, but he knew alone time wouldn't happen if the victors had their way. Yet he passed an open door, and his curiosity peeked for only a moment as he lifted a hand to push it further open -

His chin dropped to the floor, and his eyes became wide. Windows covered the train instead of the hideous walls from the dining cart, and a round couch rest beneath the windows. His heart pranced with joy as he carefully took a seat on the couch glaring at the district as it sped out of view, and the gray sky didn't offer much to change the mood. Not even the little bit of light from the lamps seated on the tables.

Time flew by, and he watched the trees bend under a gentle breeze. He didn't even hear his district partner walk inside. Weaver only moves when she sits down not far from where he was sitting. Looking at her was hard knowing at least one would die. At least one wouldn't see district eleven anymore. But all he wanted was to make sure she was safe. To keep her away from the pain the Capitol threw on his family so many times.

Weaver Rhodes didn't fear dying. It was just another adventure lurking somewhere beyond the world he lived in, yet he feared not helping those he cared about. He knew nothing about Iona, but he wanted to help her. He wanted to make sure she saw district eleven again. "Hey." He mumbled quietly trying to break the silence while lowering his gaze until his eyes fixated on the floor.

It was nice to finally sit in silence taking in all that was said by the mentors. Every single word bounced through his thick skull trying to find a place to rest. It was hard to understand. It was hard to know what would happen, but the idea of losing himself to the games wasn't something he wanted. Weaver wanted to remain true to himself. He wanted to make sure he didn't change, yet it felt like had no choice. Crusader had changed, he killed, but in the end he gave his life so Patricia could win. It was something Weaver didn't understand at the time, but now he does.

Agony boiled inside him as his heart begged for a safe return back home. He wanted to curl up and sleep beside an apple tree. He wanted to start a fire and sing through the night hours disturbing his family. He wanted just another moment of living his normal life. Weaver was nothing but a pawn. All he was being used for was to harm those he loved and cared about. And it hurt knowing that the Capitol thought he was expendable, but he wasn't. His life may be changing, but sometimes a curveball was thrown just to see how the person adapted. Yet losing himself was terribly frightening.

Something tapped his leg, and Weaver shifted his gaze from the trees outside. His eyes looked at the book Iona was holding, and he read the words scribbled down. What do you think is going to happen?

Many thoughts raced through his mind as the question spiraled above him. He wasn't sure what to say. He wasn't sure what to do because he knew he was going to die, but he wasn't going down without a fight.

He shifted his gaze once more before staring at the windows looking for a way to escape the grasps the Capitol had on him. He wanted to break free of the strings attached to his arms and legs. So much was going on, and it was happening so fast. One moment he was standing in the middle of Harbinger's mansion, and now he was on his way to another mansion only to prepare for a living hell.

A soft sigh escaped his lips as he shrugged his shoulders. Yet his gaze remained focused on the world behind him. "I wish I knew, Iona, I wish I knew." It wasn't much of an answer, but it was all he had, and he didn't want to lie to her. Knowing only one could survive tore through his mind bashing around his skull. "But we can give 'em hell I suppose." He turned towards her with a half grin spread across his face hoping it was worth it.

Iona was silent, and Weaver feared for her. He wanted to help, yet he wasn't sure how. All he wanted was to pretend this didn't happen, but it did. The two of them were headed to the Capitol. His life turned upside down in the blink of an eye. All because Harbinger won the games, but it wasn't his fault. Harbinger fought hard to win, so did Kirito and Kate. The three of them haven't given up, and they'll keep fighting. And as long as Weaver was breathing, he'd keep fighting too. Kate had suggested training together, and it was something he strongly looked forward to. Just the two of them fighting against the brutal force of the Capitol. But it wasn't that easy. Death lurked around every corner, and Weaver knew one had to die. But why? Why was Iona sentenced to die? Why was Weaver condemned to death? Why was twenty-four kids thrown to the dogs? How could anyone even volunteer? Questioning his fate wasn't worth his time anymore because nothing would stand up to save them.

It was heartbreaking. Not only was Weaver traveling to the Capitol was a puppet, he was seated next to someone who normally would've had a long life ahead of her. Apparently his words wasn't what she wanted to hear, and Weaver watched like a coward as Iona cradled her legs. Fear etched into her, and he couldn't do anything to change it because he was afraid too. Weaver had left so much behind. His family. Navya had come to say goodbye, and she was close to birthing his niece or nephew. All the things he was going to miss was terrible, but people have to die. It was the sick nature of Panem. People lived, and people died. Once a year twenty-three children died. A sick reminder of the dark days - Weaver wasn't even alive, yet he was being punished along with Iona, and his family.

A lump formed in the back of his throat, and he swallowed hard as he turned his gaze back to the view wishing something would help, but all he was met with was rain drops falling from the sky splattering against the windows of the last car on the train. Talking wasn't exactly his strong point, yet he wanted to help her out. Iona didn't deserve the fate handed to her. But he didn't know what to say. Weaver took a deep breath before turning his gaze towards his district partner. With a heavy sigh, he scooted closer to her wondering what he could possibly do. He didn't want to, but something had to be done. Picking people up when they were down was important in life. Many people had helped Weaver out, and it was time for him to return the favor. "Iona, I know you're afraid. I'm afraid to. And I know time is short, but we can make the best of what is left. Let's not let the Capitol put us down. Let's show them you and I are strong." He paused. "I'll help."