Jesse was clutching his nose as he made his way back into the mountain, swearing every time he accidentally jostled it. He was sure it wasn’t broken, he'd done that before, but it was still painful as all hell. He hadn’t seen it coming, and neither had Finnick, really, if his vacant expression was anything to go by. Despite the blood now pouring from his face, as a PTSD-sufferer himself, Jesse understood. Finnick shouldn’t be alone, and especially not on the tracks by the entrance. But clearly, the blonde wasn’t who he needed right then.
By the time he’d reached the bottom floor, Jesse was huffing. He’d never been a runner, but this shit was ridiculous. He’d asked a few people where the asshole vampire was, and it had lead him there. After a few tries, he finally reached Kol’s room, slamming his hand on the door. “Yo, bloodsucker! Open the hell up!”
Annie’s fine. Kol’s fine. Maris’s fine. I’m fine.
That was all Finnick allowed himself to think as he finished yet another cigarette. He was running low, but was hoping he could get some more off Jesse when the time came. The blonde wasn’t far away, lying on his side further down the tunnel, bag shoved under his head. Again, Finnick wondered if the kid was ever going to come inside. There was no questioning he had plenty of support amongst the Rebels. But the tracks had become a place to face your demons alone, himself and Amy also frequent visitors. The trio now held an unspoken agreement not to encroach upon that.
Those same demons were following Finnick that night. Despite his mantra, he wasn’t feeling as fine as he’d like to believe. Unsteady hands reached for another cigarette, and before he could react, the pack fell with a light thud onto the tracks. For a moment, he could only stare at the littered cigarettes, aware they certainly weren’t worth jumping down there for. But smoking had been the only consistent, controllable thing in his life as of late, and he didn’t think he could handle losing something else right then. So, crouching down, Finnick pushed off the edge and jumped onto the tracks.
I’m fine. The Victor repeated it in his mind, his hands moving over the gravel as he collected the pack. I’m fine, I’m fine, I'mfineI'mfineI'mfine — but the words started to merge together, losing meaning entirely, and the more he thought about calming down, the more his hands shook. Soon, he was grabbing at nothing, and Finnick started hitting his own head instead, swearing at himself, trying to concentrate. Because Annie wasn’t fine. She hadn’t moved once in three months, hadn’t responded to him at all. Maris needed his mother, and she wasn’t moving. Finn had sworn to always protect her, but he’d lost her once, and now he’d failed again. She’d returned to the place where he could not follow. When would they be free of this cycle?
Letting out an anguished scream, Finnick didn’t realise he was crying until he couldn’t see anymore, folded over on the rugged surface, the scattered pack forgotten.
Kol hadn’t used his enhanced speed in quite some time, not having had the need to do so. But upon hearing that Finnick was throwing up on the train tracks, alone and disoriented, Kol was alarmingly aware that he had no time to waste. He sped there, knocking rebels out of the way, disregarding their negative comments – it was hardly his fault The Nut was so cramped. It was enough to make even him feel claustrophobic, so as he reached the outside, fresh breeze touching his skin, he paused for a second in appreciation. He inhaled deeply, tracking a scent that was more than familiar to him, one he’d remember without a physical reminder. Thankfully it didn’t take him long, and within seconds, he was by Finnick’s side.
“Oh, bloody hell,” Kol spoke, exasperated. He wrapped his arms around the blonde, ignoring the pile of vomit and discarded cigarettes beneath him, having dealt with far worse before. His brother needed him, and that was his only concern. Although Jesse had warned him of Finnick’s condition, it still tightened Kol’s throat seeing the state he was in, a clear indication of his own negligence, of Finnick’s worsening state of mind. He needed to fix this. Kol pulled him up and off the tracks, carrying him to safety, resting him up against the nearest wall. Kol remained crouched in front of him, placing a gentle hand on the side of his face. “Finnick,” the vampire spoke with conviction, trying to reach him, noting how Finnick’s eyes seemed to stare right past him. He was trapped in his mind, of that Kol had no doubt. He’d seen this before, he understood it, but that never made the process any easier. Especially since so much time had passed since his last incident. “It’s Kol. Look at me. Listen to me. You’re alright. I’m here, mate. I’ve got you.”
The Rebels had finally found a likely cure for the virus, one that could clear up symptoms in a matter of minutes. Considering all the advancements in medicine over the years, Jesse found it unfair that no one had come up with a cure for loneliness yet. Luckily, he knew of a close substitute.
He couldn’t see Amy. He couldn’t see Stefan. He couldn’t see Rose. He couldn’t see Matt. He definitely couldn’t see Scott, and talking to them for a few minutes on the cuffs couldn’t satiate the same hollow feeling anyway. Jesse understood. He knew he wasn’t anyone’s first priority, but that didn’t change the fact that being alone sucked. It had been nearly a week now, and he’d done nothing but wander aimlessly, smile and nod in a few people’s directions, and lie around listening to Amy’s iPod. Perhaps he could’ve been a little more proactive in seeking out someone’s company, but he figured everyone was busy with the whole cure thing anyway. His supply of cigarettes were running dangerously low, and when day six rolled around, he couldn’t take it anymore.
A large small part of him hoped he would be stopped on the way out of the Nut, but no one approached him, so Jesse kept on walking. Amy’s player, of course, was held tightly in his hand, and all the way down the track, he hummed along to a song he was now familiar with. District Two was freezing, colder than the Nut, which was unusual considering it was a mountain. Jesse wrote it off as magic, pulling his beanie further down on his head. Finding this particular substitute was going to be a challenge, although he had a few ideas.
Due to the bombings, a large majority of the city’s buildings were either destroyed or abandoned. Well... not entirely. Jesse checked within a few different factories on the far side of the district, guessing that was where the outcasts, junkies, criminals and the homeless alike would be holing up, at least for the winter. On his third try, his guess was proved right, and Jesse found himself standing in a mock up of a crack house. He found himself shivering, but not from the cold. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t seen before, but the lighting, the stench, the unconscious bodies stretched out across the concrete, made for an abrupt change compared to the Nut. It was colder, and even more lonely.
Those that were conscious acknowledged his arrival with a nod, and he nodded back, tucking Amy’s player safely into his pocket and looking for someone who had what he needed. Minutes later, he noticed an older woman rocking back and forth, clutching the remnants of light blue substance wrapped in plastic. Bingo. Jesse held out his hands to show he had no weapon, and sat down across from her, nodding once at the bag. “That what I think it is?”
Twitchy and not at all focused, the woman looked between Jesse and the bag, shrugging in response. “Maybe. What’s it to ya?”
“I need some.”
She sneered. “Too bad. Find your own.”
“This is my own. I made it, bitch.” The batch didn’t look as pure as it could have been. Considering how long ago Jesse had opted out, it made sense. Attempting to tone down his frustration, he sighed. “You’ve had that for a while, right? Please. I need it back.”
“You didn’t make shit. Now screw off.” She waved him away.
“Yeah?” Jesse knew she was too fragile to see an oncoming move, so he grabbed the bag of meth off her and held it in his hands for inspection. She swore, but luckily, only fell forward. “P2P. Probably only 90% pure. Good enough,” he muttered to himself. Standing up, he watched her struggle, and the guilt he felt for stealing from this woman, even if it was his own product, made him dig into his jacket pocket and throw her the rest of his weed. “There’s 2 grams there, at least.” A pause before he added, “Thanks for this.” That set her off.
“You asshole! That’s all I have left! Fuck you! I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you. Come back here, you dirty —” Jesse walked away quite quickly, holding his breath until the sound of her cries had faded. Sucking in the cool air, he shoved the bag in his pocket and headed back to the empty factory he’d stumbled upon earlier. Settling on the concrete floor near the entrance, Jesse lent against the wall and untangled Amy’s earphones from his pipe and lighter. Eventually, with shaking hands, he managed to light the glass, and watched the murky liquid bubble for a moment before the smoke hit his lips. And as he breathed in, he felt his heart slow for one beat, two beats, before it was off again, thumping fast against his rib cage. ‘
Jesse’s eyes widened and suddenly, as the smoke left his body, he felt hot all over. Rubbing his hands against his temples, he curled up into a ball, sliding his arms around his knees and rocked a little. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuck — shaking his head quickly, he frowned at the sensation, hearing a strange buzzing noise fill his ears. Looking irritated, hands kept rubbing his face and scratching at his hair until suddenly, he felt better. Different. Different, not better. But Jesse didn’t have time to enjoy it before he heard the voices.
Alarmed, he lifted his head immediately, stopping all other action. Frozen in his place, he slowly lowered the pipe to the ground, turning his head and leaning to look out the door. Squinting through the misty air, he saw them. Two figures, walking together in the cold. Knowing he had to get a better view, Jesse collected his things and dived out of the door, running to lean against the factory’s structure. He couldn’t really hear them, but after a few quick breaths, Jesse turned and stepped out to look around the corner of the building.
The pair were dressed head to toe in grey. The taller figure had his hands thrust deeply into his pockets, no doubt concealing a weapon. His companion, the woman, seemed to scout their surroundings, a gloved hand lifting suddenly to point towards the direction of the mountain. Jesse felt all the blood in his system run cold. There was nowhere for him to hide. He couldn’t even make out their faces, but he didn’t have to. He knew who they were. And he knew who they were looking for. “Oh, fuck.”
Jesse used his new found sense of adrenaline to desperately sprint back up the mountain’s hidden track, throwing himself behind a low wall for cover, knocking over a used metal bin in the process. Swearing loudly at the crash, he pushed up, sliding a little on the near frozen ground as he took off. And as he ran away, the young couple, just out for a walk in their winter gear, turned to stare after the man that had caused all the commotion, a look of confusion passing between them.
