.fighting with broken bones; kopal

k a t e l y n .

I try to smile, try to fight
Just say I'm okay
But every day feels like a hurricane
Yeah, I was born in the rain

"Katelyn..I-I guess you were right."

It didn’t happen often, but this time was one where she wished she had been wrong. She hadn’t thought him selfish like he said. Misguided and foolish yes. Stubborn. Out of his depth. But not selfish."I would look at your smile and wish I could smile like that. Smile like the world wasn't broken and tearing apart always."

She kept replying Cyro’s words in her head. Any last words would have been hard to hear, but he’d delivered an entire goddam speech. It was to be expected though. Blunt trauma was a slow death. She knew that. Chaske had taken several minutes to die after she’d broken his ribs. Several agonizing minutes while she held his hand and he died in front of her. Her smile? Like there was a better tomorrow? But for Cyro there probably wouldn’t be. It wasn’t true death, she reminded herself. Even though his odds of coming back had just gotten astronomically low.

Xander—

Cyro was a big target, not just as a tribute from a lower district, or a lower district with a recent victor, but several of his competitors were horrified that he’d choose to volunteer and abandon his kid in a quest for fame and glory. If they knew that he was the one setting up all those traps they kept stepping in, they’d probably have tried harder to kill him sooner.

"Don't let him lose that smile, Katelyn. Don't let him lose that smile ever."

She didn’t know the first thing about children. She’d never really wanted them. Why? So they could suffer like Eden Turner? Cedar Halt? Like the Izars? The Rhodes? Iain? Her life didn’t have room for a kid. Where would she find the time to nurture a child that couldn’t take care of itself? But there were two Krane’s she’d already failed. If it was within her power to stop a third from slipping through the cracks, then she had to, or she’d never be able to look at herself in the mirror again.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you as well.” Katelyn’s stomach flipped. Should she say anything? Was this the wrong time to unload? “What’s on your mind, my love?”  She'd talk. Holding everything in never worked. A better question would have been what wasn’t. She held onto Opal and tried to just be enveloped in the closeness. The scent of coconut. The softness of her skin. She broke the embrace regretfully and started to pace, debating where the hell to start.

“Cyro wants me to adopt his kid if he doesn’t make it home,” she began sorrowfully, quickly growing more and more animated. “Which he’s not. I can feel it. And I don’t have a fucking clue. But I’m going to, because that’s who I am. Because Margaret Dubois was right. Sixteen years she’s been dead and I can still hear saying that too much heart will be my downfall. Because it always fucking is.” She huffed in exasperation, rubbing at her eyes with the palms of her hands as the water started.

“But I can’t turn him down his dying request can I? It’s my fault. If he doesn’t make it home, it’s my fault.” She wasn’t the only victor to feel like she’d failed tributes, but this was a special case. “You know he’s related to my long dead district partner? I told the Krane’s if they ever needed anything to come talk to me. But I can’t remember the last time I checked on them. There’s so many people in eleven that need help. Sometimes they slip through the cracks. To hear him tell it, he was only a few days away from being homeless.”

And if she’d looked out for the Krane’s a little bit more, he might not have done something so foolish and drastic. “I COULD HAVE HELPED!” she shouted in anguish, putting her hands on her temples. “WHY DIDN"T HE ASK? Everybody in eleven knows where I live, why didn’t any of the Kranes—“she wrung her hands, stopping in her pacing for a moment to look at Opal in distress. “And he wants me to adopt his kid,” she repeated incredulously. “But it’s the worst thing I could do to this child because—because I’m a problem victor. Have you seen what they’ve done to Harbinger’s family over the years? To Kirito?! To Arbor?!”

Katelyn was supposed to be the strong one. The one that didn’t let the cracks show. Not only because there were those who would exploit it. She rarely let people see the brokenness she’d taped up over the years, because that wasn’t who people needed her to be. “I try to help but nothing stays fixed for more than FIVE FUCKING MINUTES!” She howled, bending over and putting her hands on her knees. “It breaks and I break but I help, I‘m there for people, and that’s me, that’s real.” She curled her lip in misery. “Well it’s not fair. Always being the bigger person. The better person. Because someone has to be. People need to have hope. They—they need a hero. And if they can relate to me, if I have the ability to make it hurt just a little less—”

This was why Kass hated her, she though. In spite of trying to reach out, Kass could sense what she was holding in. She knew. Somehow she knew that the smile was a fake. But misread the emotions she was keeping in as malicious intent. It made the kid think that the help she was offering wasn’t genuine. It was. It was just that sometimes she was terrible at taking her own advice. 

The walls she built to protect herself didn’t just come down. They shattered. Exploded into a million tiny fragments as she poured her soul out. The crying began in earnest. “And it’s hard, it’s so fucking hard to do these days. Those years I was gone? I didn’t spend them all in the detention center. They did something to my head. Pumped me full of chemicals, dressed me up like a doll. I—I there’s gaps in my memories. The fragments I remember from those years, are like a dream. Or a nightmare. The train squealed. They hurt me. I know they were trying to make me into something that I’m not.” She bit her lip, holding back a sob as her chest heaved.

“Do you know why it took me so long to date anyone after that infernal show?” she asked tearily. “It’s because I couldn’t be sure if anyone saw me, or only what they wanted to see. If they just wanted the notoriety of banging a victor. I don’t like being put in a box.” And those few dates she’d gone on had never worked out, never turned into an actual relationship. That paranoia was always there. She didn’t want to be seen as a mentor or a victor. Not an icon or a goddess on a pedestal. Not as a prize or a trophy.  She'd never gone dating before being a Bachelorette, and the show had ruined her perception of the whole thing. 

“And then this this harpy of a politician, Olivia. Secretary of the chamber of whatever the fuck, she— I’m supposed to be her eyes and ears in my own—“she grit her teeth, swallowing back the hurt. “She took away the control over my life I thought I had. I really thought I had it again finally, after everything. She took it so easy.” Because—because she was fucking thirty-three but some days when she looked in the mirror she saw that twenty-three-year-old they paraded around on tv like a piece of meat.. That seventeen-year-old who fought and bled and killed in the snow. The girl who they had to drag to the stage because when her name was called she was frozen in fear.

Her shoulders were shaking with pain, confusion and rage, her cheeks streaked with tears as her emotions overwhelmed her. “Do you know how hard it is to make me feel small?” she snapped, furiously wiping tears away from her eyes. “But she did. Cracked open the armor I steel myself in like a goddamn walnut. Talked down to me like a fucking dog! Less than a dog!” she practically snarled the last word, Sampson’s voice on the recording taunting her. Olivia had torn her illusions to shreds, reminded her that she belonged to the Capitol and it was never going to be an even playing field.

Her voice broke, her bottom lip trembling. “I haven’t let myself be happy in years, because it feels like I’m only setting myself up for the next fall. Well here it is!” It went against every piece of advice she ever gave; she always told other people to dig their heels in, to push through because things would get better. To stand up straight, keep their head high and weather the punches. But now she had a hard time seeing when the hits would stop coming. They’d stopped before, but they always started again. Always.

“And then you— you blew back into my life last year and you made me happy. You—you didn’t want anything from me. You didn’t want me to do anything for you,” she whimpered. “You just—you just wanted me. The real me. Scars and mistakes and all. And you’ve never even seen me— “

Seen me crumble, she wanted to say.

But she had. And not just when they’d been reunited. The memory hit her like a sledgehammer. The year Iain and Carrita had died. The first year Katelyn had failed to bring a tribute home. She’d been a wreck, and Opal had held her. God, Opal had held her and she’d been too panicked about what Kirito might do after seeing his cousin die to even see.

Katelyn saw now. It was her. It had always been her. Was always supposed to be her. From the moment they’d first met. From that fruit salad they’d shared for lunch until the stars burned out and time ceased to exist, it would be her. She stopped pacing and cried out, pulling the other close, clinging to her like she was the only other person that existed in the world and bending down to kiss her lips fiercely as she choked back a sob. Then again, with need, with want. With tenderness.

“God, Opal, is this real?” she wept as their foreheads touched. She wrapped her arms around her girlfriend’s waist. Tears clung to the edges of her eyelashes. Stained her cheeks. Splashed on Opal’s face. The fire in her chest, in her cheeks smoldered, her voice grew quiet. Small. As small as she had been made to feel.

“Are we real? I just need something to be real for once. Are we allowed to be happy? They could take it away so easily. Is this a—a mistake?” her voice broke on the last word again, because she desperately did not want it to be.

Katelyn knew that from day one, many people had considered to be one of the stronger victors.

Willpower. Courage. Conviction. And maybe she was.

But even the strongest people had limits.

In spite of the presence she’d built over the years, she was human after all.

k a t e l y n .

Now the skies have been blacked out
I’ve got to find my way
‘Cos it’s been raining but there’s a drought
And I’m fighting with broken bones

The words were a balm to soothe her aching heart. “You’re the most real thing I’ve ever had.” Opal deserved the world. She deserved so much better than a lonely baker that was better at giving advice than taking it. She felt stupid, like she was being irrational, but she couldn’t remember a time in the last decade that someone had held her close and told her it would be okay. And yet, Opal had wanted her. She hugged the other woman tighter. If she wasn't going to let go, then neither would Katelyn. 

“I’ve loved you for over ten years. I’m going to love you for the rest of my life.” Did she really mean that? Could she mean it? Even after—It was a side of her she rarely let anyone see. The last time she’d fallen apart like this was when Rex had let a mutt kill him after the game makers had tricked him into killing Arianna. She’d torn the kitchen apart in the process, throwing shit, ruining the cake she’d been working on while Kirito and Harbinger had quietly let her wear herself out before comforting her and saying that they’d weather this together.

She’d hated herself for failing the district. Eleven hadn’t had tributes kill each other in decades, if ever before that.

She’d failed another pair of tributes. She’d wept for failing the Taylor family twice. It was the same feeling with the Kranes. It was Maya Fel begging her to bring Jacob home, and later, her numb acceptance of his coffin. It was the Capitol forcing her to stay home and let Asari die because Kass’s victory the previous year had made them nervous. It was Vasco losing a niece and a nephew to a single reaping and still trying to get her to smile. Letting herself be weak, letting someone else be the strong one for once was a nigh unthinkable concept.

She rested the side of her face on Opal’s head and closed her eyes, sighing quietly. If Opal could love every part of her, maybe it was time she started loving the parts of herself she always hid away. “I love you too.” She whispered into Opal’s ear. “I’m sorry,” she sniffled as she started to calm down. “I didn’t even let you get a word in.” She hadn’t taken the time to explain about Olivia. And what would she think about Katelyn adopting a toddler? Sure she had a kid, but he was practically grown; she was probably moving forward with life. Opal probably had questions.

“I don’t know— I bottle things up when the pressure starts to get to me. I know it’s not healthy, it’s just how I’ve always done things.” But it was a new day, wasn’t it? She wasn’t alone anymore. She had someone she could confide in. Give every part of herself to. Someone she could hold nothing back from, be real with about anything and everything. This was love. She kissed the top of Opal’s forehead, the tears starting to dry and her mascara desperately needing to be cleaned off. But before Opal started asking for explanations, she had a question of her own.

“Before—before I started losing it, you said there was something you’d been meaning to tell me?”

k a t e l y n .

Now the skies have been blacked out
I’ve got to find my way
‘Cos it’s been raining but there’s a drought
And I’m fighting with broken bones

It was a knife in her chest when she thought about it.

Opal said that the Capitol was unhappy with the lack of career victors. That the underdogs had won far too many times for their liking. She’d contributed to that in recent years, hadn’t she? Helping Kass home the year after Nico had thrust twelve back into the spotlight. Ridley and Beck weren’t enough for these vultures. They wanted to bring the narrative back to the early sixties, a time when careers won handily and when people like Klaus or Saffron came home it could be disregarded as a fluke.

Katelyn followed Opal’s gaze to Ky’s room; and it had to be his, because the district one victors were all retired from mentoring barring Justice and Opal. She felt dumb, guilty even. She’d been so focused on trying to hold herself together, she hadn’t seen that Opal was about ready to crack too. It wasn’t fair to her.

“They’re going to hurt him and it’ll be my fault.”

She quickly came to the horrifying realization that with Emmett dead, all of Opal’s hopes for keeping her son safe rested with Jade Morin. It was cruel of them to ask such a thing of her. A mentor could only guide a tribute so far before their life rested in their own hands, their own decisions, the way they handled what the game makers threw at them. Opal could no more guarantee the Capitol that Jade would come home than Katelyn could have stopped Rex and Arianna from killing each other.

But it all rested on Opal, didn’t it? District two was a lost cause, even with Cricket Antoinette in their back pocket. Four had done better in the last five years, but district one was supposed to be the crown jewel of the Capitol. A miniature version of it. They were the favorite child and they were expected to do better, to be the Capitol’s hand in the games and alongside two and four, put the ragamuffins in their place.

That piece of the narrative had gotten away from them over the decades, hadn’t it. The lower districts had proved their strength time and time again. And it was standard for careers to partner up with whoever they felt like instead of their fellow trained tributes. Often times they just dicked around until their luck ran out. It was about making friends, lovers, enemies. Putting on a good show. Not killing the others quickly and efficiently.

Maybe that was why district two hadn’t won in over twenty years.

“No, no.” she said quietly, slowly shaking her head. Her hands found Opals. So this was why Opal had come back to the role of mentor. Why she had spent so much time in the training center the last few weeks. “If they hurt him it’s because they are vile, cruel people. Not because of you. I wish I could do something.” The words rang a little hollow to her own ears after she’d just gotten done ranting about how Cyro’s predicament was her fault, but it needed to be said. Opal deserved better.

She sniffled, wiping some mascara off her cheek.

“You’re a wonderful woman, Opal.” She said softly. “Kind. Patient. Loving.” Katelyn wrapped her in a hug. “I love you,” she said, tenderly placing a hand on Opal’s cheek. “I know I don’t say it very often, but I do.” She added Ky’s wellbeing to the list of things she was worried about, and made a mental note to see how Jade was doing in her next fight.

“Whatever happens, we can face it together right? No more holding things in, holding things back?” She waited for Opal to reply before moving their talk along. She had a tendency to do that, talk in a way that made a person’s head spin. She was trying to get better at it. Then there was this man in the suit. She’d be watching the elevators for him now. A go-between if he’d been described right. Just some hired muscle conveying his master’s displeasure. Something she might find herself doing on Olivia’s behalf, she thought distastefully.

“I know I just dropped a lot on you,” she said apologetically. “But I think that was all of it. I’m just unsure of what to do.”

k a t e l y n .

Now the skies have been blacked out
I’ve got to find my way
‘Cos it’s been raining but there’s a drought
And I’m fighting with broken bones

“He’s everything, Katelyn.”

Opal’s bottom lip trembled, and Katelyn wanted nothing more than to kiss her. Soothe that pain, wipe the tears away. But she couldn’t. Not yet. She had to let her talk. Let her let it out. Her heart broke for Opal Earnest. It was the same moment she realized she’d given her heart to Opal as well. She really did care about her. Opal’s pain felt like hers. She talked about Ky, and it was the responsibility of guiding tributes cranked up to eleven.

He had no choice in the matter; he was born to a victor, born with the weight of his mother’s murders on his shoulders. Born without knowing his father, a tribute that Opal had dared fall in love with. There was an undercurrent of anger at the situation in Opal’s voice, and Katelyn looked down at the floor. She was partly responsible for this after all. Every year that the lower districts did well was another strike against the career mentors. Another hand tightening the noose.

“He’s my weakness, Katelyn. They know that and they’re going to use him to get me to do anything they want.

She hadn’t felt this drained since Kass and Jacob had been forced to fight each other. Oapl had heard her, but she wasn’t listening.

Something tugged at her heart and yet again, she questioned the wisdom in honoring Cyro’s very public request. In all her years as a victor, she hadn’t even considered the Capitol exacting punishment on children in any other way than the reaping. This was terrifying. God help her, Cyro had no idea what he was asking. He thought he was giving Xander a better life, begging her to take him. And sure, he wouldn’t be homeless. He wouldn’t ever go hungry. But there’d be a target on his back the size of the district.

And what kind of life was that?

A gilded cage was still a cage. She’d learned that lesson horrifyingly well.

What should she say? What could she say? It was true. Children were a weakness. Even now, she couldn’t understand Harbinger’s courage in having so many. The last thing she needed to do was give the Capitol more leverage over her life. Katelyn’s eyes started watering again, something that amazed her as she’d thought she’d run out of tears to shed a few minutes ago.

She’d gotten soft over the years. Gotten more cautious with her mouth but not her heart. It was a mistake to think she could find happiness without a heavy toll being exacted. Being a victor meant nothing in the end. Nothing but a slow death as your choices came back to haunt you and history repeated its cycle over and over again. There was nothing she could say to fix this. So she got up and walked over to where Opal was pacing and wrapped her in a hug again. This time she didn’t let go.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly."I’m just sorry.”

It wasn’t fair. For the first time in years she actually felt happy, and it was already slipping through her fingers like a dream you had just before waking up. Her own problems danced on the tip of her tongue, but they could be discussed more in depth later. How could she keep prattling about how she might be adopting a son, when Opal was so worried about her own? She hugged Opal tighter, holding the other woman’s head to her chest.

“I’m so sorry, my love.”

No one deserved to shoulder that many burdens. Least of all a woman that had been hurt as many times as Opal Earnest.