I've found you . kopal

k a t e l y n .

Torn down, full of aching
Somehow our youth would take the blame
Worn out, the way we let it stay

Almost an entire year without contact. But no, she silenced the voice of worry. Opal had waited for her before. Years. Years for her to see the light. What was one more? The train pulled into the station and Katelyn pulled the hood of her sweater up, grabbing her bag off of the table. It would be a couple days before the Capitol started dolling her up for the cameras, and she was going to relish every second of it.

A year without any of her family or friends paying the toll. It was a rare thing, but not impossible, she mused, remembering Drake Harvest, Jacob Fel and tiny Carrita Nessage. Perhaps listening to the Capitol and staying home the year after Kass won had done some good. Not enough to save Asari, but another year gone was another year that people edged towards aging out of the reaping.

Yes, it was rare.

And this year would not be an exception. Not with a ghost from her past choosing to volunteer. She was going to give him a piece of her mind later; already had on the train, but goddammit she was going to do it again. He brought back memories she’d thought laid to rest; once again, she was reminded of Lexi splitting open Levi’s head. This boy brought a whole slew of problems with him, but she shoved those thoughts away. There would be time to deal with that later. Right now, she had a different problem. A more personal problem for her heart.

Namely, that the train from one would have arrived a while ago.

She didn’t dare hope that she’d see Opal so soon, not with the games starting to kick off. Surely she’d be busy; doing something motherly with Ky or—

Katelyn paused in her musings. What did Opal do for fun? She supposed she’d have time to find out.

Then she walked through the main exit and her heart skipped a beat.There she was, leaning on the rail just inside. Katelyn approached her with some hesitancy; hesitancy that melted away with every step closer. Hesitancy that fled when she saw the way Opal was looking at her, and the sparkles in her eyes that danced like dandelion fluffs on a breeze. “I missed you, Opal.” She said, smiling softly, her heart beating rapidly in her chest. She’d dreamed of this moment for months, a dozen denied phone calls screaming to be heard.

Opal was proof that dreams could come true.

Katelyn closed the distance and wrapped an arm around her torso, and swept her backwards in a move that would have knocked Opal off her feet had she not placed a leg behind her to prevent just that. She leaned in, close enough to touch, close enough to feel the heat radiating off her face, but instead of getting lost in those lips, she stroked the other victor’s cheek with the side of her hand and whispered breathily into her ear.

“You, me? We’ve got a lot of lost time to make up for.”

k a t e l y n .

Torn down, full of aching
Somehow our youth would take the blame
Worn out, the way we let it stay

The touch of Opal’s hands on her face was electrifying, and Katelyn bent into the kiss with no resistance. It made her knees weak, being loved like this. Romance had never been something she’d had the time for. There’d always been another tribute that needed mentoring. A capitol lapdog that needed to be put its place. Something to rebel against. Someone to help. She’d spent so much of her life living for another people or suffering because of them that this moment, this woman in front of her was so new. So new and yet so familiar.

It would be some time before she forgave herself for not seeing. But for all the memories they could have made, there were memories were still to be. There was so much about Opal that she didn’t know. That she wanted to know. They’d had so many talks over dinner in the past. Encouraged each other. Opal had always been there to hold her up, and she’d let Opal down without even realizing it. They’d been so close, but Katelyn hadn’t seen the love. She felt it now; and she had no intention of letting it go.

Katelyn slowly walked her fingers along Opal’s collarbone while keeping an eye on her surroundings. It was a powerful thing, knowing that someone wanted you. Half the time, Katelyn still didn’t know what to make of it. The other half of the time, she just wanted to show Opal what it meant to her. She leaned in, her hands trailing Opal’s shoulders. her mouth by Opal’s neck, close enough to bask in her perfume. “Less than five minutes back and you’re already trying to seduce me,” she said huskily. Katelyn nipped the top of Opal’s ear and let the tip of her tongue slide teasingly down it. “Whatever am I going to do?”

She broke the embrace and smiled knowingly, before taking Opal’s hand and starting to walk with her, leading her away from the train station. There were always eyes watching in the Capitol, but they could still steal a few moments. Katelyn’s heart soared. It was almost like they’d never been apart. But they had been, and Katelyn needed answers. Too much had happened in the country since the last time they’d been together. Enough for a dozen phone calls.

“They cut the phone lines in eleven,” she said after a moment. "I’m not really sure what happened. We were on lockdown for months.”And what a time it had been. Everything up in the air. Harsher curfews enforced. Punishments. And no contact with any of the other districts. Rumors abounded, but Katelyn had yet to get any solid news. If Opal didn’t know anything, she was certain to find out what had happened from any number of Capitolites. They were the only ones that kept a closer ear to the ground than Vasco.

“The silos caught on fire. A lot of food was lost. Terrorists, they told us.” Katelyn shook her head. “Did anything like that happen in one?”

k a t e l y n .

Torn down, full of aching
Somehow our youth would take the blame
Worn out, the way we let it stay

Was everything okay in eleven? The Capitol had “generously” donated tins of fish and beans, lentils and peanuts to every district, but it was going to be some time before the silos were fully operational again. Longer still before they were filled; growing the nation’s food took time. And Katelyn wasn’t sure she trusted the food anyway. The Capitol never gave anything away for free. There was always a price tag attached; her own life as a victor was a testament to that.

Winning the games set you for life. It was also a hard life when you didn’t play the game. Some part of her wished she had, because the older she got, the more she realized that you either climbed willingly into the Capitol’s back pocket, or you were shoved there. In any case, Katelyn had given her allotment away. She had no need of it, and the cans of tuna with the capitol stamp on the them had made her uncomfortable.

The last time she’d eaten one, she’d been freezing, hungrily scooping the fish into her mouth with her hands after cutting the can open with a throwing axe. Sixteen years ago perhaps, but tuna still made her queasy. She doubted that she’d ever sample any of district four’s cuisine without that feeling returning. Katelyn shrugged, giving Opal’s hand a reassuring squeeze back. “I think it will be. There’s more peacekeepers than we’d like but—we’re resilient.” Katelyn had more thoughts on that subject than was probably all right for a victor to have, especially in the Capitol, where you never knew if you were being monitored. So she let the thought end. As for Opal’s other question?

“Sorry,” she said, shrugging before planting a kiss on the top of Opal’s forehead. “We haven’t seen each other in months and I’m talking about the news. Somehow, I don’t think that’s at the forefront of your mind.” God, she’d missed her. Missed her presence. The way she made her feel. Like she could rest. She was taken back to the time Opal had walked her to her room after another agonizing episode of reality tv. Leaning on her for support. Katelyn looked down at her tenderly, letting go of her hand and moving her arm around her waist. They were still walking, just a little slower. Her heart sang at the thought of Opal trying to contact her that much, but it also hurt, because she was reminded that Opal had sent letters upon letters to her for a few years, the years of her incarceration. “I thought about you too.” she said, stealing a kiss.


She sighed, a sound that was halfway between wistful and exhausted. “I’ve never taken volunteering in eleven well,” she mused, thinking of Rex Antilles. “I assume in the career districts it’s about glory more often than not.” She shook her head. “Most of the volunteers I’ve had to deal with were either misguided in their efforts to make a difference or deathseekers.” Katelyn bit her bottom lip in thought. Life in a lower district could get hard, and some kids saw the games as their only way out. She hated that for numerous reasons. She was also tired of tributes who weren’t willing to fight.

They all broke their pacifism in the end, and the longer it took, the more of a toll it took on them mentally. She understood that. It was not an easy thing to take a life. But some things were worth fighting for. Life. Love. The hope of a better tomorrow. “Time will tell with this one, but—“ For a moment, she is seventeen. Levi sits across from her on the train and she looks out the window instead. He is an Izar-Krane, and he volunteered. The last Izar-Krane had brutally defiled his victims. Was this one the same? She dared not find out if. “—this year I need to bring someone home.”

k a t e l y n .

Torn down, full of aching
Somehow our youth would take the blame
Worn out, the way we let it stay

“We all want someone to come home.” Opal talked about Ridley’s brother and her stomach twisted. Katelyn bit her lip uncertainly. It almost sounded like a rebuke; gentle perhaps but she caught the way Opal’s face fell and her stomach flipped. Her bias was showing. She’d always been irritated by the career districts. Had met too many who didn’t care about anything other than leaving a mark on the world. A bloody one. But she chided herself, telling herself that for every Cricket Antoinette looking out for themselves there were a half a dozen Opal Earnests. A dozen Annie's.  

“I’m sorry, Opal.” She said quietly. It was unthinking of her to say it like that. When Opal had charges of her own. When she had a son who wasn’t out of the reaping pool yet. Her argument with Cricket came back to her, Cricket mockingly calling her Kate the saint while designing death traps for children. Was that how the other victors saw her? Were there others that thought she thought she was above them? She was one of the most successful mentors true, but her three successes had meant failure for the rest of them those years.

“I don’t mean to imply the children in my charge are any more important than the others, it’s just that—“

Katelyn swallowed. The more steps she took towards her future, the more her past found a way to hold on. It wasn’t fair, but then life rarely was. “Cyro Krane. The boy who volunteered. My district partner was an Izar-Krane.” She paused a moment, giving Opal a look of longsuffering. “I’m not entirely sure about the family tree but they’re all related and Opal, Opal they’’ve lost a half a dozen children to the games since mine. Two before that. I don’t—I can’t fail them again.”

We know you tried your best, Vasco said with a sad smile, giving her an encouraging pat.

The kindness tore at her heart more than a hundred profanities and angry stares. Katelyn pinched the bridge of her nose, shutting her eyes and letting out a tired and exasperated groan. “He’s got a son, Opal. Got a girl pregnant when he was sixteen. She didn’t survive the birth.” It was a harsh reminder than eleven was low on the Capitol’s list of priorities. People died from easily treatable illnesses all the time. A capitol surgeon would have been able to save her, but eleven was not the Capitol. No, in the capitol they gave their victors top of the line prosthetics and spent thousands of dollars on unnecessary cosmetic surgeries for the fun of it. They kept old men alive in their mansions while children suffered in the streets.

She stopped walking and turned to look at Opal, tears forming in her eyes. It was one thing to apologize to parents when they had to bury their children. This was something else. Her voice broke on the last word.

“If I don’t get Cyro home, I’m making that little boy an orphan.”