Observing, not seeing

River Hamish Eberhart District 3 Tribute in the 77th Hunger Games Gavin Owens is my very best friend.

[cssandrajuly-blog]

[merlypops]

[rivereberhart]

River Eberhart and his prep team

[andrina-vane-blog]

Seconds ticked and she swore she could see the cogs turning in his head, mimicking the same way Wesley would calculate and consider his options before answering. Her heart pounded and she felt her eyes sting, blinking away any amount of tears before they could consider falling,  choking out a complacent smile. God, she must have looked like a lunatic to him. He would be right in sending her away. She remembered… the first night she went to Wesley. The way he had stopped and thought, his eyes consuming her like a puzzle to be solved, then welcomed her- it wasn’t as if anything happened. But she saw something in him. Something she didn’t see in a lot of the… victors. The other mentors. She saw the scarring, the same, maybe, that she carried with her every day. She hacked off her hair with him that night, the long black strands laying in his sink, a horribly cut asymmetrical bob-sort of style replacing it. Snow was furious. Her aesthetic was his, her aesthetic belonged to the capitol, the young victor they had all rooted for, it was practically betrayal. And she was punished. 

River uttered  a word- just one, and her heart floated, and a few tears broke past the dams, her eyelashes betraying her, her hand quickly wiping them off her cheek as she kneeled in front of him. She wondered if all mothers had these moments. The awe and grateful feeling at being allowed to help the person that somehow you felt needed to be offered the world, even when you couldn’t- not with the state of the world they lived in. She wondered if any future mothers could appreciate that. Could cry at being allowed to button a pajama top because you were the reason your child not. Because you wanted to badly for it not to be so- because you tried so hard to keep that from happening at all. She owed this to him.

She glanced at his leg that was covered before lifting her hands, thin, quick, calloused fingers working throughout their shaking to work downwards, buttoning as they went. She took her time. 

“This must be… a shock for you. All that’s happened. We all… the team worked hard to make you feel… comfortable. But I don’t think it’s possible to be. After what you were put through, and I… I’m sorry.” Her words were quiet, soft, not at all in the monotoned delivery she normally used. More open, vulnerable, so easy to affect and reflect everything she was thinking, and so unlike her usual self. Part of her hoped it might be this way. Even just leaving the capitol, everyone home under the impression she was dead, she became more freely expressive. Nothing faked, the way it had to be in the capitol, the dislike was now able to freely roll off of her in waves of contempt through her tone, her actions, the rolling of her eyes. She was allowed to experience happiness, and it didn’t have to be controlled. And she was already far beyond the husk of a person she had been. The only time she was human back then, after the Games, before the rebellion, was alone in Wesley’s room. Soon, she would be free to feel like that all the time. She wasn’t sure she deserved the freedom. After all she’d put her son through? Maybe she still had yet to earn it. 

[rivereberhart]

Before his name was pulled out of the bowl on the day of his reaping, he didn't know what his worse fear was. He never thought about what could be his fear, what could truly hurt him and what could really make him suffer-- other than the death of his brother. With a sibling lost, and River only a child, he didn't know what could feel worse than that. Perhaps the loss of his mother, he thought one day. Or possibly the loss of Gavin.

After the games, he saw that much of his fears were still the same. Although his nightmares were plagued by memories of the Games, he couldn't bear losing Gavin all over again. Or his mother. Or anyone else. He didn't know what to do half of the time, the feeling of being lost and out of place and time a sensation that he had become all-too familiar with.

Andrina came forward and River tilted back slightly, afraid of what the woman would do. She knelt before him and River relaxed slightly as he watched her hands reach up and touch at his shirt, fiddling with the buttons, helping him get the shirt of. He thought of her voice as soft and motherly, and a small smile crept over his face as he continued relaxing, his mind finally slowing down.

River nodded. Yes, it was a shock. He wasn't dead, and that was hard to believe on most days. "I'm... Comfortable," he murmured, head leaning forward, his chin against his chest. A lie, yes, but it was all that he could say. He should've been grateful that he was alive, but he never felt it. He never felt as if he was living. "Why are you sorry?" He asked, his tone quiet and almost scared. What did this woman do that she had to be sorry for? Why was she apologising to River, of all people?

He looked up and into her eyes, his own eyebrows knitting together slightly, his hands reaching up to touch at her cheeks. River watched his thumbs softly rub against the skin of Andrina's cheeks, right beneath her eyes, one of his thumbs metal and the other of flesh. A part of him wondered if he seemed monstrous or deformed. He had to.

[rivereberhart]

The Joy, The Misery || Waking Up

[gavinowensd3-blog]

He swore he could have heard his heart thudding- could have counted each beat, each thud that pushed blood quickly through his veins- and he was almost positive that River could feel it from his perch on his lap. This was one of the things he has not anticipated when creating the trackers. From the moment it was suggested as some hair-brained idea by the council in Thirteen, Gavin had been so focused- so hell bent- on creating the technology. It was a chance to not just create something… something amazing, but it was a chance to help people. Save lives. He had already had to bury too many tributes, had to offer too many condolences to families and spend too many hours grieving in the way that he could—losing himself in a bottle of the white liquor or shutting himself away in his room to work on various projects, losing himself for weeks at a time. This was going to help people. This was going to do good. And the moment that River’s name was pulled from the bowl and no one had stepped forward for him- something that still rubbed Gavin the wrong way, making him beyond angry- he had been so wholehearted committed to making sure that everything would go smoothly. That there were no chinks in the armor, no flaw in the plan. He wanted them alive- wanted River alive- because he was selfish.

He hadn’t anticipated just what it would do to the tributes mentally.

It had to be beyond confusing- their entire world having been shattered then pieced back together and thrust back in their hands. Were they equipped to deal with it now? How damaged would they be from their brushes with death? Would River ever really be alright—would he ever really believe that he was there in the land of the living or would he be stuck between the two planes? It was just another way that he had failed him. Gavin hadn’t saved him. Not really. He had pulled him back through a veil that had marked him mentally and it would always be there- that scar of seeing the afterlife, however briefly, with his new limbs as a constant reminder of the trauma his body had gone through. What sort of help could he offer to them now—would the Council even be that concerned with it? They had their Tributes alive, they had their symbols of the Rebellion, would they really be too concerned with much else?

There was a sniffling sound that came from the face buried in his chest followed by River rubbing, almost nuzzling, the small face into his shoulder. It was that simple gesture so familiar and normal that had Gavin relaxing, feeling the boy in his lap adjust until hands clasped either side of his face- one warm palm pressed against his cheek and the other a cool metal that left his skin feeling a little chilled but he didn’t let it show on his expression. Those bright blue and oh-so- very intelligent eyes moved across his face, observing him and taking in every last bit to be catalogued and examined under the microscope that was River’s eye. He wondered how he looked to the boy and if he even still looked like himself. Kieran would mumble that he didn’t recognize him sometimes just to be obnoxious, he was sure, but there was a bit of him that wondered just how much of it was true. He was tired and he knew that it had to show on his face. Lines that had been mere creases in the supple skin had turned to ditches in his face practically, deep and harsh particularly around his mouth and forehead.  He had found more than just a touch of gray lacing his curls, particularly around his temples and sure, the others joked that he was too young to be going gray but that didn’t negate the fact that the last year and a half had been stressful enough to have aged him decades.

Fingers, warm and firm, press against the side of his neck where his pulse beat steadily and it seemed that was exactly what River was looking for because an almost relieved expression crosses the young face (steadily growing older, it seemed) followed by a wide grin that caused Gavin’s own mouth to pull up in the first genuine grin since arriving in Thirteen. His name was said, almost like a fervent prayer and arms were around his neck, squeezing him tightly and his heart was really sure to burst with happiness and relief as his own arms wrapped around the thin middle, pulling the younger boy closer. Maybe he would be okay. Maybe with time, River would forgive him and wouldn’t be stuck. The words that came out in a rush against his neck caused cold gooseflesh to run across his arms and the back of his neck. “I know, Riv—I know you don’t. I wish I could take it away. I wish…”

He did wish he could take it away. It wasn’t fair that someone so young had to bear something to incredibly heavy.

[rivereberhart]

If there was ever a time where felt inconceivably lost, it was right then. It wasn't just the memories that were creeping up on him, the cold dread that grabbed hold of his spine and didn't seem to let go, only grow. It wasn't just the empty feeling he had where his arm and leg used to be. It was that he knew, somehow, possibly inherently, that he had missed out on time. There was time missing, his hand was larger than he remembered, his leg (not legs, not really,) a little longer, his hair a little messier, and his skin a little sallower. Gavin looked, too, changed. Much older, and for a second, River wonders if he has been asleep for years.

'I know, Riv--I know you don't. I wish I could take it away. I wish...'

He knew that Gavin was trying to support him, trying to care for him in a way, but how could he understand-- even in this universe where River was alive? How could he understand the feeling of being legitimately ripped limb from limb, the feeling of dying, the feeling of everything that one ever was just... Slowly disappearing and slipping from one's reach?

"I died," he said pathetically, arms and legs wrapping a little tighter around his mentor's body, "I died, Gavin," River whined, sucking in a desperate breath, feeling the tears spill on and on, feeling so much like the child he remembered he was, a long time ago, before he ever had to worry about the Games or about Gavin or about his mother or about Kane, because everything had been cared for. "G-gavin," he whined again, shaking his head and letting out a shuddering breath that shook his entire body, followed by a sob that did the same, "I-I'm-I'm sorry," he offered, teeth biting down on his lip to force himself to stop with the pathetic snivelling. Kane wouldn't have approved. Kane would've wanted him to stop crying and be strong.

And he had to be. He had to be. He was River Hamish Eberhart and since when did he allow himself to act like a child around adults? "Help," he whimpered, all resolve falling away in less than a moment, "Help m-me, Gavin..."

[drinkingdietmountaindew-deactiv]

[rivereberhart]

The Joy, The Misery || Waking Up

[gavinowensd3-blog]

‘What’s going on, Gav?…’

How did he even begin? A soft sigh escaped him and he pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to push back the moisture that kept trying to gather in the corners of his vision and the dull thud between his eyes. Where did he even begin? All the way back to the start— to when he had first heard of the Rebellion? Or did he start at the months before the Games, where he had locked himself away in his room— even away from River, who had always been welcome to join him whenever he so desired- working diligently on the plans for the trackers, for the perfect chemical combination for the serum that would keep the Tributes’ hearts beating just slow enough to keep them alive and fool the Capitol? Or did he start at the present and work his way backwards, trying to shed light on the murkiness that had settled on everything?

Apparently, he was choosing option C. 

The confusion that washed over River’s face killed him and the cool metal that brushed his hand away sent a shiver through him and he hated himself for it. It felt… artificial. It was still River- it was. He just had to keep reminding himself that. It was River just… modified. And he had made the modifications, there was no reason why he should feel so uneasy. 

Silence settled between them, Gavin allowing time for the information to process and stew in that head- that brilliant mind of his. ‘I remember every part of it Gavin.’  And he turned away and Gavin’s heart wrenched in his chest, trying desperately to push his own memories of the event from his mind. No,he couldn’t allow himself to go there- not right then. It was too hard to get back out once he started to think about it and River needed him and damn him if he wasn’t going to be there. He would not let him down again. Movement from River pulled his attention and he couldn’t stop the soft, “Riv…” from escaping him as the thirteen year old folded in on himself- curling up as tight as possible, the muffled words reaching his ears, ‘I r-remember all of it— it happened. You- you can’t say otherwise…’

“No, Riv, it— it did happen. But, the thing is, that tracker that they gave you— right before you were sent to the Arena? I built those. I built them and— there was a serum, like the ones they use at the hospitals- that restarted your heart and began healing— I know this doesn’t make  a whole lot of sense, River but you have to trust me…,” he trailed off, reaching out to lay a hand on the dark head of hair, smoothing and caressing the soft strands before scooting further on the bed and reaching out, pulling the boy— who in the last year had managed to grow- into his lap. Gavin chuckled softly, his arms wrapping around the smaller boy, pressing a kiss to his temple, “You know this was much easier to do when you were six.” He pressed his lips against the dip of River’s temple, breathing slowly and reassuringly, waiting for River’s own breathing to slow, murmuring softly, “There was a Rebellion, Riv. It’s been in the making for four years. We’re at the base- where all this began- in District Thirteen. You’re safe, River— I promise you, you are.”

[rivereberhart]

River didn't know what to think, what to do, how to do it, or even how to function. He was dead. He was. River remembered death and he remembered it well. He remembered the razor-sharp teeth and the tearing claws and the feral snarls and he remembered the pain. He remembered his throat going raw because of his screams. He remembered warmth, then coldness, then nothingness.

And the next thing he remembered was this room-- now. Then. When. Help.

'No, Riv, it— it did happen. But, the thing is, that tracker that they gave you— right before you were sent to the Arena? I built those,' And how much of this was true? Who was to say that this Gavin was even real? Who was to say that this wasn't a trick by the Capitol, like the mutts that had gone and attacked him? He knew that the country he lived in was cruel, and he knew that well, but this? An elaborate skit, just for him? Why-- why would that happen? Why would they do such a thing and why-- River sucked in a breath and he held his legs firmly to his chest and closed his eyes tight enough to see white spots everywhere-- his breath becoming ragged and uneven as his mind desperately scrambled for some sort of explanation. 'I built them and— there was a serum, like the ones they use at the hospitals- that restarted your heart and began healing—' River shook his head, whimpering nonsense to himself, trying to make everything able to be understood.

None of that was true. How could he trust this, trust this Gavin, trust that he wasn't some projection of the Capitol, trust that everything was alright and trust that he was alive? River's eyes swiped back and forth, and he blinked quickly, beginning to count backwards from one thousand, his eyesight blurring from the tears that were forming yet again.

'I know this doesn’t make  a whole lot of sense, River but you have to trust me…,' The Gavin before him reached out and touched his head, River feeling the mattress dip as the man moved towards him, pulling him into his lap. River snivelled slightly, shaking his head once more. Explanations were slowly stringing together, but he refused to believe them, perferring the fact that was his death to the supposed theories that whirled in his head. If this was all true-- there was the explanation to Gavin's (recent?) actions, shutting himself away, being so short with him, being so distant and...

There was a rumble by his ear, it taking River a second to realise that it was Gavin's laughter, a supple, rich sound that calmed him in a way. Lips pressed to his temple and he let out a shiver, 'You know this was much easier to do when you were six,' another kiss and he closed his too-blue eyes once more, letting himself calm down, letting himself breath without trouble and letting himself believe this Gavin, if only just for a moment. 'There was a Rebellion, Riv. It’s been in the making for four years. We’re at the base- where all this began- in District Thirteen. You’re safe, River— I promise you, you are.'

The soft voice was earnest and gentle, a murmur that brought back memories from a long time before, times when Kane was just possibly a little too mean and Gavin was a little too kind and he found himself in his arms with a book and a doll made by his mother. Memories of after Kane's passing, of nightmares that haunted the night and pushed him into Gavin's bed, River's too-cold toes touching at Gavin's calves, making him hiss. Memories of a better time, a time when he was more alive--

River looked up and blinked away the tears that clouded everything, sniffling and ingeniously rubbing his nose on a piece of Gavin's clothing, a wibbling, wobbling smile gracing River's lips. He moved in Gavin's arms, sitting up, kneeling, his smaller hands (larger than he remembered them,) on either side of Gavin's face, he examined him, blue eyes raking over the features of the slightly broken man before him, hand dropping to his neck, eyes trained on the area is fingers touched, reading the pulse before looking back to the green eyes, "Gavin," he said, his smile a little too wide, it hurting his cheeks-- "Gavin," he repeated, his arms wrapping themselves behind his mentor's neck, the tears returning as River hid his face in the crook of Gavin's neck and shoulder, "I was d-dead, I was dead, I died, I felt it, I don't want- want to remember," The words were rushed and jumbled and he couldn't bear it, "M-my arm. My leg..." He couldn't let go, he didn't want to let go. His hands clung to Gavin and his legs, once kneeling, had wrapped themselves around his mentor's middle, and he was reluctant to move at all.

[livesinyesterday]

[rivereberhart]

[rivereberhart]

The Joy, The Misery || Waking Up

[gavinowensd3-blog]

Bright blue eyes met his green from across the room and whisper left the chapped and dry lips, the sound reaching his ears as loudly as if it had been whispered right against the shell of his ear. His name. Pearly white teeth peaked out from behind the cracked lips and Gavin couldn’t remember ever being so happy to see a smile and at that point, nothing in the last year mattered— not the fights with Kieran, not the tried and failed attempts and rebuilding River’s limbs, not the sleepless nights— nothing because everything was alright now that River was back. His feet knew what to do thankfully because he couldn’t remember thinking that he wanted to walk across the room but there he was, quickly closing the distance between him and the hospital bed and he was laughing- a slightly hysterical sound because there was a part of him that was still stuck in shock and disbelief, half afraid that this was all some sort of dream or that River would fall back asleep and—

Tears. There were tears in River’s eyes, making them look all the bigger and bluer and everything in Gavin was screaming to protect— to hold and to fix the pain and the fear that he saw in those eyes. The question died in River’s throat and Gavin could hear the confusion and his own mind was reeling with the thought of how was he supposed to explain this- how was he supposed to make this all make sense to him?

‘Th-this got lasers?’

Something between a bark of laughter and a sob came from Gavin and he reached forward, wrapping his arms around the boy, pulling him tight against his chest. His heart was pounding madly against his ribcage but he could feel River’s own heart steadily beating and the rise and fall of River’s chest and it was confirmation that this was real, this was happening. A hand moved to cup the back of River’s head, a shaking hand petting down the dark hair before setting back against the soft locks.  He sniffed and cleared his throat, blinking back the moisture that had gathered in his eyes before answering gruffly, “No— no, it doesn’t have lasers. Maybe for your next birthday I’ll put one in.” 

His grip from around the boy loosened slightly, his hands settling on either shoulder— one warm skin and the other cool metal- and his eyes roamed River’s face, memorizing every part of it. It had been a year and even in sleep, it seemed like the boyish features had started to harden. He was thirteen now. He was thirteen and Gavin had to be the one to tell him that he had lost an entire year. A hand left River’s shoulder, moving to brush the dark hair from his forehead, in a gesture so familiar it was almost second nature. A sigh left him as he tried to gather his thoughts before looking into River’s eyes and spoke gently, “You’re alive. You didn’t die in the Arena, Riv.”

[rivereberhart]

He heard Gavin make a sound that sounded like a hiccup of a sob and a yelp of laughter escape him at the same time, and he jumped slightly in his seat. Arms wrapped around him and the tears made things very blurry, the droplets streaming down his face as he returned the hug, stuffing his face in the crook of Gavin's neck. There were so many things he wanted to say, so many things he wanted to ask-- but, where was he supposed to begin when he had absolutely no idea what was going on?

River held on tight, and he breathed in his best friend's scent, his mind supplying the details of home and hardship-- he smelled like Gavin, but things were definitely different. It wasn't home's scent, and it wasn't the Capitol's, it was something else entirely.

A sniffling noise was made, and it came from Gavin, River peeking upwards to see what his mentor, his best friend, was doing. He looked sad, terribly sad, but undeniably happy, all at the same time. The twelve year old smiled up at him, tears still staining his cheeks, his lips wobbling only slightly, 'No-- no, it doesn't have lasers. Maybe for your next birthday.'

Gavin's embrace lessened and his hands gripped at his shoulders; or, at least, he assumed it was both, seeing as he could only sense it on one. There was silence for a moment, no sound emitting from either of them, save their uneven breathing. A hand moved, and his face was caressed, River leaning into the touch and closing his eyes for a moment, "What's going on, Gav?..."

River opened his eyes and looked up at his oldest friend, the child chewing on his lip and their eyes searching one another's before Gavin's voice filled the almost silent room, 'You're alive. You didn't die in the Arena, Riv.'

The twelve year old shook his head and his brow furrowed, his robot hand rising to push away the one that had been at his cheek. "I remember every part of it, Gavin," he said after a long moment of silence, after turning his head away, eyes staring at the linoleum tiles, vision blurring as the memories of his death resurfaced. His body begun to ache and the vision became too surreal for River to handle. The twelve year old wrapped his arms around his body after having pulled his legs up to his chest, his head shaking back and forth-- "I r-remember all of it-- it happened. You- you can't say otherwise..."

Maybe they both really were dead.

[epicwinsauce]

[andrina-vane-blog]

Andrina stood tall while he mulled the situation over, her own mind racing, but all on the same subject, always about River. What was it like, growing up in 3? She’d made it one of the more popular districts, but somewhere that wouldn’t raise him to be a killer. Somewhere a family might want a child. Did his family love him? Did the orphanage even find him a home, a mother to take care of him and a father to care at all? It hurt to think of, her child being raised by someone else- she didn’t have a choice. He couldn’t be raised the way he would have, not if it were up to Snow. And in the Capitol, everything was up to him.

“Why are you helping me? Are you G-Gavin’s friend? Could- couldn’t be. I’m his only… friend…” 

She felt her heart breaking for him. He had lost everything. His family was back in 3, his best friend was preoccupied, and she couldn’t even— she couldn’t even hold on to him. Couldn’t keep him safe, keep him happy. She still remembered his laugh like a soundtrack. She’d close her eyes and lean her head against a window or a wall, smile at the sound of hapPy gurgling, the cute whines when he took his first steps, reaching out tiny, pudgy little hands. 

“I don’t know Gavin very well, and I just… I just want to help.” How could she explain it any differently? How could she tell him she owed him, but more than that, so much more than that, she wanted to help him more than anything else in this world. To watch him get better. The truth of the matter in the end was that she needed him to want her help more than he needed her. Andrina felt unraveled, exposed, and entirely uncomfortable with that. And she was alright with that, for River.

[rivereberhart]

River watched things unfold carefully, tongue licking his lips and hand wiping away at the tracks the tears left as they fell. He kept quiet when she spoke, trying to take in her every movement, each tick she had and every sound she made and a part of him could've sworn on Gavin's life that there was something eerily familiar about this Andrina Vane of District Six. Something about her told him that she was someone that he could trust, even though he was hesitant to do that with just anyone. In her movements, she seemed more hesitant than him, and he checked off that maybe, perhaps-- she was scared.

But of what, he hadn't figured out yet.

'I don't know Gavin very well, and I just... I just want to help.'

Not a very well-explained motive, River easily sensing that she was hiding something. But... He was just too tired to think. His brain was running quickly and all he wanted was for it to slow down to a level that he could managed thinking at when sleep deprived.

Again, he nodded, turning towards her in the cot, his legs slipping from under the blanket, dangling off the cushion. The dim light shined off of his leg and he quickly pulled the blanket over him-- scaring the woman away wasn't going to help him. "Al-alright," he spoke, voice tiny and soft, something it almost never was. He was River Eberhart, brash and snarky and very much a little shit of a twelve-- thirteen year old. Being soft and scared wasn't in his nature. "Please help," but apparently, begging was.

[gutural-deactivated20160117]

Hidden brilliance.

[andrina-vane-blog]

River was not fine, most definitely not, and he sounded on the verge of breakdown. Andrina would never claim to be the person to go to to tend to a broken heart, or be a shoulder to cry on, but she had a soft spot for the competent and those she cared most for, the two categories overlapping a substantial amount. They might have been one in the same, but her family back in 6- if they were even still back in 6, sometimes she had to make an exception for them. 

She didn’t know what to do. Calming tears and midnight screams wasn’t something she’d had to do in eleven years, but so much of her wanted that again. To be depended upon, or looked up to, or just be a part of her child’s life. She hoped and prayed that that time had come now, pushing open the door without asking again.

Andrina stood there for a moment, taken aback by the sight of River in this room, the one she tried to decorate, crudely painted a cartoon rendition of a treasure map on the walls in the hopes River would like it. It was odd, how utterly connected she felt, those stupid myths put to rest in her mind, the ones she’d always denied a “mother” could feel. She could see him in the minor light being offered from the low dim in the holographic window, the shining eyes, breathless expression, absolute frustration- and there, his hands fumbling over his pajama top.

“Would you like… any help? With the buttons?”

Hovering just past the doorway, she felt her heart sinking further and further each moment she got to even be near him. Her child. Her son. Henry Cashmere, or Henry Vane, River Cashmere-Vane, or River Eberhart, if he would be willing to hear her out, she’d be happy to call him by any name, she only wanted the chance, the opportunity to come clean. Dead in the middle of the night after nightmares, after being brought back from the dead, after being ripped apart - that was not the time.

[rivereberhart]

Footsteps grew louder and to him, they felt as if they echoed throughout the room. They were too-loud, too-much, too-real-- at a time where River didn't know what was real and what was fake-- what was life and what was the Games-- what was safe and-- his hands shook violently and he rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms, one warm, the other a cool metal, a reminder of what he had lost.

'Would you like... any help? With the buttons?'

Shocked, for he'd forgotten that there was another person there, he looked up to where the voice came from. River's eyes were wide with surprise and he took in what he saw-- a tall, thin woman who he thought was very beautiful, or would've thought so at another time. She looked sad, in a way, and she looked as if she'd been cutting her own hair for years. The woman radiated the same sort of essence as that one mentor-- ah, both of them were from District Six. That made sense--

All of the analysing slightly calmed the boy and he nodded, scared, but desperate to be able to breathe. River blinked slowly and looked down, then up again towards the woman. "Why are you helping me?" He asked, head tilted to the side, tears sliding down his cheeks and staining the blotchy skin, a robotic arm reaching up and pushing his hair away from his sweat-drenched forehead, "Are you G-Gavin's friend? Could- couldn't be. I'm his only... friend..." At that, he looked down towards the floor again, because those were words that he didn't even believe any longer.

[havingthelastword]

[andrina-vane-blog]

Andrina had been walking through the halls back to her room after grabbing a snack and taking a piss (always the lady, so delicate in her word choice) when she heard noise from River’s- it wasn’t anything too alarming, but she had to check up on him, feeling worry in her chest just from the sharp gasp that emitted, the heavy breathing she could faintly make out. 

She knocked quietly, putting her forehead up against the door before whispering, “It… It’s Andrina Vane, from District 6- is everything alright, River…?”

This wasn’t her place. If she was worried, she should have gotten Gavin (the best friend who made him cry), Kieran (the heartless fiance who’d made River so stressed before he was put into the games), or perhaps one of those girls, Wren and Calpurnia, who seemed to live River quite a lot. She wasn’t his mother— no, she wasn’t. She gave birth to him, but she’d been absent so long, saying that was an excuse, a horrid justification of her selfish actions. Andrina wanted him to be okay, to make him okay, needed him to be okay, especially after what she had done.

[rivereberhart]

The dreams had been a frequent thing since his waking up-- something that happened each and every night, it was just that sometimes, some of the instances were louder than others. They all began the same way-- him, lost in the Savannah, the darkness falling around him as the artificial sun of the arena disappeared from the sky.

And they all ended the same way. River being torn apart, limb from limb, razor-sharp teeth digging into his skin, his screaming--

That was when he woke up, his pyjamas sticking to his skin, hair plastered to his forehead, heart beating out of control, breathing ragged-- 'It… It’s Andrina Vane, from District 6- is everything alright, River…?'

The voice, obviously, was an unfamiliar one. Usually it was Gavin who was there with him to calm him down, to get him back to reality-- he wasn't dead, no. He was safe. He was safe in thirteen-- but Gavin had other things to tend to. A family, River thought sourly, complete with a child to replace him. River should've known the day was coming.

"I'm-- I'm fine," he said, voice shaking, unsteady fingers moving along the buttons, unfastening them, trying to open up so that he could breathe again, but no such luck. He still wasn't used to his robotic finger tips-- them moving much too quickly-- "I'm-- I swear, I'm-- I'm f-fine," the word came out forced and he felt his face heat up a little, as well as his eyes well up with tears. He was fine. He was.

[rivereberhart]

[rivereberhart]

The Joy, The Misery || Waking Up

[gavinowensd3-blog]

It wasn’t fair. The words were playing on a constant loop in his mind as he watched Tributes reunited with their teams—how Mentors held them tight and tried to explain and clear the massive amount of confusion that the teens were in upon waking; how District Partners clung to each other’s hands, still stunned that the both of them were alive.  It wasn’t fair that he had to sit back and watch this happen while his Tribute still lay still and unmoving. He tried telling himself that it would take time—he had created the trackers himself, he knew how they work. The more severe of an injury, the longer the recovery time would be. But the estimated time was a year and it had been a year—a very long year that he had waited almost patiently and- and…

And it was just going to take time. And Gavin was not nearly as patient as he had been a year ago.

The rest of the day passed, Tributes waking later than others—all except River. Gavin’s rear was starting to go numb from sitting there in the plastic chair so long and his head was starting to droop against his chest when the nurse finally shoo-ed him away. ‘Come back and try again tomorrow.’ Tomorrow- yes, surely… Surely, tomorrow would be the day that River came back.

He returned the next day, settling himself back in the chair that he had to drag away from the corner in the wall and back to the spot next to the bed. Time continued to move on- the clock ticked away oblivious to the steady increase in tension that each click built in his shoulders. Bitterness flooded his mouth as the chances of River waking up that day grew slimmer and slimmer and he stood, moving out the door to get himself a cup of coffee in hopes to keep himself awake and to drive the bitterness from his mouth. There were a few others in the nurses lounge- others that somewhere in the back of his mind knew that they weren’t nurses or part of the hospital crew but he said nothing, pouring himself a cup of coffee in one of the grey generic mugs of District 13.

‘Mr. Owens?’ He turned to the voice, brows raising slightly at nurse who approached him, leaning in closer to hear her murmur, ‘He’s waking up.’

The mug of hot coffee nearly flew from his hands but he steadied them, setting down the mug before speed walking then running down the familiar stretch of hall way, stopping just outside the door. There was the slightest pause before he twisted the door knob, making his way towards the hospital bed where- sure enough- the now teen started to stir slightly. Big blue yet unfocused eyes blinked up at him and he laughed lightly, his heart in his throat. “Hey, Riv.”

[rivereberhart]

The door creaked and River's head turned towards it, eyes still wide and showing his obvious confusion to whoever was entering-- his breath caught in his throat. "Gavin," the name fell from his lips hoarsely, but effortlessly-- his name wasn't a name that he'd ever forget. Not his. Not Gavin's. Not his best friend's. His lips stretched slightly and even though his mouth tasted horribly, he showed his teeth in a smile, repeating his friend's name as he watched him laugh, hearing his voice greet him gleefully--

But... What did this mean?

Panic settled in him and he immediately thought of the both of them as deceased. River had never exactly believed in anything after death-- he had been too young to even entertain the thought of something after death-- a twelve year old had no business wondering what laid in the great beyond, even if he had a father that passed away. Death meant disappearance and The End. That's all he knew-- so what was this?

Tears filled his eyes and he shook his head and scoot upwards, lip wobbling as he watched Gavin get closer and closer-- "Wh-where..." The question died in his throat as he looked to his left side and saw a thing that didn't look familiar at all. Something else in place of his arm. His right hand reached over and touched at the cool metallic limb and his brows furrowed together in confusion, "I... I don't understand..."

His eyes flashed up to Gavin, his jaw slightly slack as he tried his hardest to just get everything, like he usually did-- so easily. "Gavin..." River said, looking back down to his lap and taking a moment to breathe, feeling dizzy for just a moment, before a thought came into his brain, his right hand taking hold of the blanket that covered him and tossing it over, revealing the same sort of technology that was used on his arm, on his right leg.

River felt sick, but pushed down the sensation. "Th-this got lasers?" He attempted to joke halfheartedly, still undeniably confused, and feeling more lost than he had ever felt before.