real hunger has a real taste | hk v. hawkeye, centipede

I am not going to admit I care about Sutton more than I thought.

I’m not.

I do, there’s no doubt about it, feel something warm and kind inside my chest every time I look at her now, or catch her out of the corner of my eye while we’re prepping supplies. I will absolutely not admit that to her, and maybe not to anyone else, but every time I shift or move I can feel the bandages that Sutton wrapped around me tugging and pulling in the familiar way that healing wounds do. I can feel the things she has put on me just to take care of me, her own supplies she collected and used to help me heal.

She doesn’t need to know that it finally made me think about her as something other than Lysander Mae’s little, more sober sister, but it did.

Fuck, it did.

“Anyone object to just staying here for the night?” there’s been no sign of tributes trying to return, and with the stash of supplies I feel strange just... walking away.

A new feeling for me.

I don’t let myself think about it too long before the adrenaline fading out of me shows me exactly how badly I’ve been injured and how badly I needed the help of my allies to make it to the next day. I’ve always liked it better being on a team, came into this world half of a whole already, have never not been on a team, really. But I don’t know if I ever realized how much Haven was saving me, if I realized how quickly I could have fallen apart if she hadn’t been there to tell me not to do things like dive headfirst into a fight with an ugly looking centipede thing and a monster in the sky.

Diving in now, a part of me definitely wished she was here to tell me to stop and think.

She didn't sleep much, and when she did it felt worse than staying awake. It was hard to describe, her dreams incredibly loud and vivid. Sensory overload, too much for a single night. First, she watched Fitz fall from the tower, his hands always just out of reach in a crash that never came even as the ground grew ever closer. "Fuck! Just- Just!" Every time she thought she had him, he slipped further away. She didn't even know why she was bothering; it wasn't like she'd be able to save him if she ever got to him.

Eyes shot open and she sat up to shake off the feeling of falling. It was Kyler's turn on watch so she'd made quick work of flipping him off and smirking so he didn't know anything was wrong.

"How long have we been out?" she tried.

"Couple hours." Not long enough.

The second time it was the two of them, Kyler and her, trying to find... something. She didn't know what, exactly. Or maybe she couldn't remember. But then he started gasping like he couldn't breathe, and his face turned purple, and he fell to his knees. "No, no, no- breathe, Kyler. You have to-" She guessed she'd been holding her breath in her sleep, because when she woke this time, she was gasping for air and Grim was looking at her in a way that felt unfairly knowing. She hated being seen like this so much that she almost gave up trying to fall back asleep a third time, but she knew she had to or she'd only be a detriment to the others and even if their deaths meant her survival she didn't want to be the reason any of them couldn't make it so she'd hidden her face and ignored anything Grim might have said and, eventually she'd slipped back into unconsciousness.

For the first while, it was just a rush of colors. Shapes overtaking her. Rushes of sound and sensation without sense. And then she saw Sutton and knew from the look on her face that nothing was okay. Nothing ever had been. She took a step toward her and it was only then that she saw the gun in her hands.

"I'm sorry."

The words sounded final. A goodbye accompanied by a delayed gunshot and Reagan was forced to watch in slow motion as the bullet sailed toward her, inching closer while she was unable to do anything but wait. And just when the bullet was supposed to hit her, just when the pain was supposed to start, it sailed right through her, right past where her heart should have been, and kept going until it was completely clear of her. She knew from the moment she heard the gasps behind her that they were Grim's. But she couldn't bring herself to turn and watch as the girl turned in on herself. Her vision went black to the sounds of Grim taking her last.

This time when she woke, she was screaming. Sutton might've been meant to be on watch, or maybe it was still Grim, but none of them were awake. Maybe she'd only been screaming in her dreams. Regardless, she gave up after that and waited what might have been a few minutes or a lifetime for the sun to rise again. Her hands were shaking. Her eyes were swollen and bruised from the lack of sleep.

She couldn't save any of them.

She couldn't save herself, either.


The mutts came from thin air, she thought. Or maybe she just hadn't been paying attention until they were on them. The early bird and its worm, except she had to remind herself that this was real and it wasn't something she was dreaming up. These things were more dangerous than whatever Reagan Carbone could dream up inside that head of hers.

The worm was huge and repulsive, with a jelly-like eye and rows of sharp teeth and moist, disgusting skin. The bird was bigger still, with a single eye keen on the kill with capable talons and a menacing call.

Sutton's gunshot was what finally reminded Reagan that she needed to move, so she did. She pulled her gun from its holster and took aim, shaky hands and shaky vision and an even shakier heart, and then she pulled the trigger.

It was oddly silent.

Compared to the noise and chaos of the Bloodbath four people and two mutts barely make a sound. There was an occasional grunt, the sound of gunfire, and the gentle hum of Grim's electric spear. There was no screaming and the stench of blood didn't surround us. All I can smell is gun powder and dirt. It was peaceful almost.

Too bad Death is waiting around every turn.

Death had begun haunting my dreams. At first I played it off, but ever since the day I took my place on stage he was always there. Each night he became more and more present. Until last night when he was so close I could feel his hot breath on my neck. Just the thought still sent a shiver down my spine. Now I could feel him behind me at all times. Waiting and watching, trying to decide which would be my last breath.

My gunshot echoed throughout the arena, but it was a clear miss. I wasn't prepared for the kickback. The guns at home had far less recoil and the sudden force backwards knocked my shot off course. I quickly reloaded and took aim again, this time more prepared. I fired and a loud bang sounded followed by a screech from the mutt. The bullet drove itself into its wing, knocking it off balance in the air. A smile played on my lips.

Father taught me well.

Raegan also managed to hit her mark, but Kyler however was a different story. His gun fired, but either the mutt was too quick or he miscalculated because his bullet just barely scraped it. I sigh and shake my head slowly.

"Is that the best you got boy?"

Then without warning the mutts attack again, this time both taking a good chunk out of Raegan and Kyler. Grim swings her spear and stabs the one in the neck. I could tell it was growing weaker. It shouldn't take much more to finish it off.

"Here Kyler, let me show you how it's done."

He has all of five seconds to cry out in pain — clutching his thigh as the worm tries to tear into him. It feels like all of his nerve endings are on fire, and he doesn't know what to do. How the fuck is he supposed to kill these things? They didn't train them for this kind of shit back in the Capitol. It's enough to fight other people, but giant birds? He's out of his league here.

"Is that the best you got, boy?"



And then it's chaos. He watches in awe as his allies waste no time finishing the job without him — and to his surprise, Sutton's confidence is as sure as a bullet through an eye. Before he can even process that one of the monsters is dead, he cries out in terror as Reagan is snatched up by a pair of talons and lifted into the air. He lifts his gun, but his hand is shaking, and he's scared. He's fucking useless.

But he blinks, and she's safe on the ground again. Grim is nothing short of a warrior, and not even the act of falling out of the sky is enough to shake the girl from Three. She's incredible. All of them. He watches her shoot the winged beast right in the neck, a horrible shriek echoing through the space as it crumples to the earth in a heap of feathers. It's astounding, and humbling, too. He puts his pistol away.

"Holy shit, girls. I'm not gonna complain. That was badass." If you looked at them standing together, maybe you'd mistake him for being the real threat of the group — but clearly not. It's them, and he's grateful that they're on his side. For however long that might be. Until they realize he can't keep up. "You okay, Reagan?" All of the hurt he's feeling seems to fade away. His hand is warm against her shoulder.

"Let's find some shelter first."

filler flee oop!!