coloured indigo — kent & teddy
Apr 23, 2020 0:17:36 GMT -5
Post by calla on Apr 23, 2020 0:17:36 GMT -5
K E N T
Visiting Kane seems like the only constant these days.
Because work is shitty, home is even shittier, and having a tribute placing second seems to do more bad than good to the economy. Or at least that's what the guys say, when they're only half-busy loading the shipments and sorting through the capsules and cursing themselves deaf.
At least their slacking was good for one thing - the boss was too busy chewing their ears off to even notice me take the rest of the day off. It's been way too long since I've been able to get away from the lab even long enough to see Kane.
See, we set him up in a little clinic on the outskirts of the square, close to the manufacturing heart, because it was one of the only places we could afford. And I know the smog isn't good for his lungs, and I know the streets can get bad at night, but at least he's somewhere. At least he's getting help, and that's all I can ask.
I honestly don't know what to do without him.
And at least the doctors there are accommodating to parents who barely show up and a brother who barely can show up, and they aren't exactly above using the drugs I bring in from the street. Because a lot of the higher up hospitals treat that shit like gold. It's like the rest of us aren't worth any kind of healthcare, and they'd rather watch a kid suffer than cough up some extra morphine.
I brought another little baggie of pills for Kane this time, in the shape of little stars because he said that makes them easier to take, and they're just to help ease the pain a little, enough to tide him over until the month is over and I finally get paid so I can get him some real stuff.
When I get to the hospital and the little bell above the door jingles, there’s a new girl sitting at the front desk, one I've never seen before, but I know how tightknit the staff are here. I still don't hand anything over to anyone but the head doc, because really, it's his job on the line, but it's still nice to know that there's a sense of security here, and I can trust my brother with these people.
Except when I tell the receptionist who I’m there for she has a visible reaction. Her eyes widen a bit, and she sits up straighter in her chair, when she hands over a little visitor badge she gives me a little wink and it does nothing more than confuse the hell out of me.
My first instinct is that Kane got himself into some kind of trouble again, that he pulled some kind of prank, like the time he thought it would be funny to hide from the doctor instead of getting his shots, and I'm hurrying to his room before the thought can even start to escalate because oh god oh shit he’s supposed to be resting.
So maybe I'm a little hurried when I open the door, maybe I'm a little preoccupied, because I get all the way through, "Kane Caulin what have you done this time?" before I notice that there's someone in the room with him.
And I almost turn right around, because Kane is sitting up in his bed, perfectly fine and propped up against about ten too many pillows, looking at Teddy Ursa like he just hung up all the stars in the sky. He's barely even noticed that I've walked in, still babbling by the time the door swings shut and by the near-blue shade of his face I'd say he's been going for a while.
"Did you really lose your leg? What's your new one made out of? What's the Capitol like? What's the food like? Is it better than here? My mom's cooking is pretty bad, so it probably is. Hey, do you wanna see my action figures? I got yours for my birthday when you won, it's pretty cool, you can take the leg off and everything. Does your real leg do that? Can you show me-"
He's talking a mile a minute, barely breathing, and I half expect a nurse to come in to check why his oxygen levels have suddenly spiked.
But they're probably just as shell shocked as I am to see a victor in a place like this.
I don't know what he's doing here, and I'm not even sure that I want to know. I try not to think about his Capitol connections and how easily he could get me arrested for the handful knock-off painkillers in my bag.
My heart rate starts to slow when I glance worriedly at Kane and he finally decides to notice me, when sticks his tongue out from behind Ursa's back.
Twerp.
"Uhh, Mr. Ursa," And I really don't want to be rude, because hello, there's a victor standing in the room, but I'm rocking back and forth, and it's been over a month since I've last seen my brother. I don't think even Teddy Ursa could stand between me and my allotted fifteen minutes of visitation right now. "Can I help you?"
Because work is shitty, home is even shittier, and having a tribute placing second seems to do more bad than good to the economy. Or at least that's what the guys say, when they're only half-busy loading the shipments and sorting through the capsules and cursing themselves deaf.
At least their slacking was good for one thing - the boss was too busy chewing their ears off to even notice me take the rest of the day off. It's been way too long since I've been able to get away from the lab even long enough to see Kane.
See, we set him up in a little clinic on the outskirts of the square, close to the manufacturing heart, because it was one of the only places we could afford. And I know the smog isn't good for his lungs, and I know the streets can get bad at night, but at least he's somewhere. At least he's getting help, and that's all I can ask.
I honestly don't know what to do without him.
And at least the doctors there are accommodating to parents who barely show up and a brother who barely can show up, and they aren't exactly above using the drugs I bring in from the street. Because a lot of the higher up hospitals treat that shit like gold. It's like the rest of us aren't worth any kind of healthcare, and they'd rather watch a kid suffer than cough up some extra morphine.
I brought another little baggie of pills for Kane this time, in the shape of little stars because he said that makes them easier to take, and they're just to help ease the pain a little, enough to tide him over until the month is over and I finally get paid so I can get him some real stuff.
When I get to the hospital and the little bell above the door jingles, there’s a new girl sitting at the front desk, one I've never seen before, but I know how tightknit the staff are here. I still don't hand anything over to anyone but the head doc, because really, it's his job on the line, but it's still nice to know that there's a sense of security here, and I can trust my brother with these people.
Except when I tell the receptionist who I’m there for she has a visible reaction. Her eyes widen a bit, and she sits up straighter in her chair, when she hands over a little visitor badge she gives me a little wink and it does nothing more than confuse the hell out of me.
My first instinct is that Kane got himself into some kind of trouble again, that he pulled some kind of prank, like the time he thought it would be funny to hide from the doctor instead of getting his shots, and I'm hurrying to his room before the thought can even start to escalate because oh god oh shit he’s supposed to be resting.
So maybe I'm a little hurried when I open the door, maybe I'm a little preoccupied, because I get all the way through, "Kane Caulin what have you done this time?" before I notice that there's someone in the room with him.
And I almost turn right around, because Kane is sitting up in his bed, perfectly fine and propped up against about ten too many pillows, looking at Teddy Ursa like he just hung up all the stars in the sky. He's barely even noticed that I've walked in, still babbling by the time the door swings shut and by the near-blue shade of his face I'd say he's been going for a while.
"Did you really lose your leg? What's your new one made out of? What's the Capitol like? What's the food like? Is it better than here? My mom's cooking is pretty bad, so it probably is. Hey, do you wanna see my action figures? I got yours for my birthday when you won, it's pretty cool, you can take the leg off and everything. Does your real leg do that? Can you show me-"
He's talking a mile a minute, barely breathing, and I half expect a nurse to come in to check why his oxygen levels have suddenly spiked.
But they're probably just as shell shocked as I am to see a victor in a place like this.
I don't know what he's doing here, and I'm not even sure that I want to know. I try not to think about his Capitol connections and how easily he could get me arrested for the handful knock-off painkillers in my bag.
My heart rate starts to slow when I glance worriedly at Kane and he finally decides to notice me, when sticks his tongue out from behind Ursa's back.
Twerp.
"Uhh, Mr. Ursa," And I really don't want to be rude, because hello, there's a victor standing in the room, but I'm rocking back and forth, and it's been over a month since I've last seen my brother. I don't think even Teddy Ursa could stand between me and my allotted fifteen minutes of visitation right now. "Can I help you?"
