Summary: "You were struck by lightning Minho." "That's nightlock peeta!!!"
"Take me back to the night we met."
Word count: 3.6k
Tw: typical thg/ tmr type content. Electrical torture, mental torture, allat. Angsty as FUCK. Character death👀👀
All my love to you. - Nevaya.
I am not the only traveler
“I just wanna die me.”
Am I dying? It's so damn hot, I can't breathe. I continue swinging through the mess of vines, vines. I miss painting. I miss when life was just fear and living. Now it's fear and survival. Suddenly that's all it was. Survival. Trying to put as much distance between us and the Career pack makes me realise just how horrifying it must be for the siblings to go through this just after watching their baby sister go through. God. The last thing we need right now is a set of siblings on our ass about Glimmer. My mind is clouded with the worst thoughts possible. What if I can't save Katniss? I'll definitely try my hardest but what's telling me I'll be strong enough? I'm not stronger than her. Never was. I'll never be stronger than her. The pure and genuine fear coursing through my body isn't something I recognize. This is all new to me. As sweat trickles down my face and neck Finnick and Katniss chat behind me, something about making it away from the beach. She screams my name, why is she screaming? Is she okay? She yells for me to stop but the momentum in my arm sends the machete forward. Sparks fly and it all goes black—.
“Don't let me turn into whatever you saw, you hear?”
Am I dying? It's so damn hot, I can barely breathe. What even is breathing? Like how do we just know? God Minho, pay attention. I follow his train of sight as thunder rolls above us. It was just shucking hot, how is it storming? I mean I've never had to run in the rain so if that happens I'm cooked. My mind is occupied with so many thoughts at once. What if I lose more close friends? I mean I'll definitely try but what's saying I'll be strong enough to? I wasn't strong enough to save Alby alone. Thomas did. I'll never be stronger than Thomas. The fear that courses through my veins isn't something I recognize. It's new. Maybe it's the scorch or my new found fear of cranks but I'm terrified. As we pick up our pace sweat drips down my face and neck and all I can hear is thunder and screaming. Lightning strikes like four times behind us. This run is the third worst thing that's ever happened to me. He screams my name but before I can stop my legs keep their momentum and send me forwards. Light strikes and it all goes black—.
Who has not repaid his debt
“You were supposed to save him!!”
He's gone because of me. Where is he? Is he still alive? Why peeta…? Haymitch told me he'd save him not me. Peeta was supposed to be here not me. I was supposed to die not him. He's not supposed to be dead. He's supposed to be safe. Haymitch will never be the same to me ever again. I'll never trust him again. Even before this, trust was so so thin when it came to that drunk bastard. It isn't his fault. What was he feeling? Guilty? Horrible? Broken? Angry? Wait no, that's how I feel. All of that. That's how I feel. He promised we'd make it together, I broke it. All I had to do was stop trusting them and now he's dead because we listened to the plan. Why did we listen? That conversation on the beach should've gone differently cause now he's hurt and alive, maybe. What am I even doing? He wasn't safe because I wasn't fast enough. The walls of 13 are a lot like my home, cold, bare, depressing. No one here is happy. If he is alive, I hope to any god that'll listen that he's okay. I need that boy. My boy. Live broadcast? From the capitol? Tonight? Odd. What is Flickerman on about? Who is he talking to? Talking about… Peeta—.
"Minho—!! No!!! Minho—!"
He's gone because of me. Where is he? Is he still alive? Why Minho…? I told him I was sick of running and then he gets kidnapped? If anyone deserves to be taken away on that train it's me. I don't deserve to be this close to the safe haven. Minho tried for years. That's all he did. All he did was try and now it gone because I wasn't fast enough. It was Newt, he held me back. Why did I let him hold me back? Why would he let Minho go like that? How did he feel? Guilty? Horrible? Broken? Angry? Wait no, that's how I feel. All of that. That's how I feel. God I knew we shouldn't have trusted those bastards at WCKD. That talk in the bunk beds should’ve gone differently because now he's hurt and alive, maybe. He promised we'd make it together, I broke it. What am I even doing? He wasn't safe because I wasn't fast enough. The walls of this covered dock area are like the maze, dull, cold, bare. Everyone here is too happy. If he is alive I hope to any god that'll listen that he's okay. I need that guy. My guy. Updated map? What is Vince on about? Where's WCKD? Last city? WCKD… Minho—.
Take me back to the night we met
“I would've saved a lot of pain if I had just fed those damn pigs.”
I'm in this situation because of her. She's the reason I am the way I am. She's bad for me. I can't trust a traitor. If I hadn't liked her in the first place this would've never happend to me. She was right. Trust can only get you so far. Every day I lay on the mattress under leather restraints. Every night I fill my time with thoughts of what is real and what isn't. And no matter how hard I try it's all the same. Fake. I sit in the deafening silence, I'd rather the desperate love driven cries of Annie. Or the screeches of pure anger born from Johanna's coarse throat. Anything just silence. Please. The light piercing my eyes, the horrible blue white makes my eyes burn. I sat there waiting to be declared insane, because I am, when she calls my name. How dare she? Who is she to humanise me when she's why they treated me like a dog? Hurt her. Hurt her the way she hurt you. Hurt her. Why let her feel like you still trust her. Hurt her. She doesn't deserve it. Hurt her. She's why I was injected with the trackerjacker venom. She's why they didn't feed me. She's why they electrocuted me. She's why I'm insane. Hurt her, Peeta—.
“You're a traitor, we trusted you. I'll kill you, you traitor.”
I'm in this situation because of her. She's the reason I am the way I am. She's bad. I can't trust a traitor. Everyday I'm brought out into this room to be tortured for hours on end. Ever night I lay against the concrete mattress and just think. And no matter how hard I try to differentiate reality and their sick game i never win. I'm dragged out of my bunk bed, just to sit in a room that's just as silent. I'd rather the desperate fear infused cries of the younger kids. Or the hard cursing and anger driven screams of the older teens. The lights burn through my eyes when she walks in. She's talking to me. Why is she talking to me? How dare she? Who is she to tell me that what I'm doing is good when I'm literally dying because of her? Hurt her. Hurt her like she hurt you. Hurt her. Don't let her feel like she deserves your trust. Hurt her. She doesn't deserve it. Hurt her. She's why they make me sit through hours of trauma inducing nightmares. She's why I haven't seen my best friend. She's why they electrocuted me. She's why they don't feed me. She's why I'm insane. Hurt her, Minho—.
When the night was full of terror
“…”
What in the ever living fuck are these mutts. They're so pale, they're lanky, and they have no eyes. Before anyone allows themselves to think we're fighting to stay alive. Not too big of a change of scene. The sudden change from living to surviving was one I barely even notice anymore. It could just be because I'm half insane. Did I mention the water? It's horrible. The smell, the look, the sound. Everyone is screaming, no one is safe, and fuck are we tired. I'm pushing these things off me, off other people, and away from anything that's moving. This is another new fear, this was all Snow. Not like the games being the tributes you fear no this is worse. It's all Snow. And that man loves the smell of fear. I'm being shoved and guided up a ladder, Katniss following behind me. Where's Finnick? Fuck no. I shove past Katniss to see Finnick making sure they don't follow up behind us. He always did that. Made sure we were all safe before even trying to help himself. The ladder shakes and a look of hope flashes across my face. The same hope that made me feel like I'd be safe forever. The same hope the filled my chest when Katniss kissed me in our first arena. The same hope that made me think I loved her. That wasn't him getting up. That was the ladder falling. He screams for Katniss, and she returns the favour. The way she called for him was desperate but at what cost? His life? That isn't right. She knows it isn't. His screeches of pain are bloodcurdling, the pure and raw fear burns through my ears. What was more like 10 seconds felt like years. His desperate pleas and cries rang through my head like Katniss used to. Nightlock, nightlock, nightlock. The screams are interrupted by the explosion. He's gone. The one guy who kept me grounded, who made me feel sane, kept me in time. He's gone. No way. Finnick—.
"…"
What in the ever living shuck is going on out here. I just jumped out of a window with my best friends and swam to the edge of the pond to get out. We move to see Gally- Gally? What? One quick conversation and a shoulder pat later and I find out Newt is dying. The black, ivy-like veins that climb up his neck remind me of the time I ran through that maze and found my best friend half dead on the dyed red concrete. Thomas and I helped him get as far as his legs would take him before gently sitting him down. He and I exchange a few frantic words before I shucking bolt to get that serum.
I can't believe it, it was so Newt to play it off and I hate that I know that. Newt never really knew how to to explain his problems. Being second in command didn't have my perks. The barefoot run through the city isn't as freeing as I thought it to be. The sheer amount of adrenaline running through me is the only thing keeping me going right now. Bits of ash bite my skin and broken building stabs the pads of my feet. Through the flames and chaos I make it to the berg with Gally to see Brenda. We share a look before running back to find Newt. The fire casts a deadly glow across our faces, the wind colliding with our bodies as we push against the odds to get the serum to him in time. I made it after Brenda and her still standing figure spoke more to me than words ever could. He looked like he did that day. The day he attempted. Carrying his limp, half dead body through the winding maze alleyways. That's what this was but it only felt like I fell off that wall. He's gone. The guy I told my secrets to, the guy I shared a hammock with on cold nights, the guy I cried with. Gone. Newt's gone. He's gone. Newt—.
And your eyes were full of tears
“My last thought will be of your lips—.”
Holy shit this sucks. Everyhing is wet, hot, and so goddamn close to me. The lizard mutts, very mature Snow. This is too different to the Arena's, Snow had control but the main threat was the tributes. The real threat here is Snow. He didn't care who died he just know who he wanted dead. Everyone is screaming, at least 3 people are dead, and if I was just a little faster I could've saved them. They're dead because of me. Katniss is fine, she jas to be or everything I did to keep Annie safe was for nothing. Where's peeta? That poor boy. The state he was in when he was unofficially put under my care reminded me of a young Annie fresh out of the maze. The water reminds me of home. Of annie. Annie. Annie Cresta, my only constant thought. That poor girl. My poor wife. The chaos in her mind must be so suffocating. I hope she's okay. The chaos in here is much like swimming through the ocean of lovers in the Capitol, constantly fight to keep them off me. To keep the mutts off me. The mutts. Peeta. I rush everyone up the ladder frantically while trying to make sure these fucking lizards don't follow up. The way they follow reminds me just a little bit too much of the capitol bastards sending flowers to my home address and threatening to kill my wife. I push as hard as I can and decide it's finally safe enough for me to get up the ladder. To finally see Annie. My girl. The ladder broke. I'm dead. Not yet, but you get the point. Annie. Annie, district 4, home, the ocean, water. Water. The crashing of the mutts isn't like the ocean waves. The way they make my skin burn isn't like the sun summer. The marks they tear into my skin aren't like the one's my wife leaves when we make love. This isn't 4. This isn't home. I'm dying. A single cry for Katniss rings through the walls that contain this ocean of chaos. I didn't die in that arena. But I might as well have. I still lost to Snows sick game. And she was still my last thought. Annie. My wife. My love. My girl.
My last thought was of your lips—.
“Tommy, Tommy will understand—.”
Holy shit this sucks. Everything is on fire, hot, and so goddamn close. My head is pounding, everyone is screaming, and if I had been a little faster my best friends wouldn't be dragging me through a city of flames. Thomas is fine, where's Minho? That poor guy. The state he was in when we got to him reminded of how I felt as he carried through the confusing walls on the maze. The fire reminds me of the Glade, of the night I met Thomas. Thomas, my only constant thought. Tommy. That poor boy. My poor boy. The chaos in his mind must be suffocating, I hope he'll be okay. The chaos out here is much like trying to run from my thoughts of death in the Glade, constantly running my brain on other things. Death was always around the corner in The Glade. You never knew when your moment was gonna be your last. I thought I knew then. I'm full aware of my end now. Running from the flames. The fire. Minho. We're rushed to a semi covered area, Minho and Gally are sprinting and the changing is getting to me. I can't do it. I'm dying. Not yet, but you get the point. Why am I trying to hurt him? Why am I letting the flare win? Can he hear that it's me? Newt? Not the infection but me? If I were to love him as the undead I'd eat only his heart to know I'm the only who has his heart. Tommy please. Tommy. Tommy, the Glade, bonfires. Fire. The blaze isn't like the coziness of greenie nights. The way it makes my skin burn isn't like the sun in the Glade while I garden. The shadows they cast aren't like the ones that spread across his face the night we met. This isn't the Glade. This isn't home. I'm dying. A plead and a cry for Tommy is shared over a hug. I followed him into the maze. Into the unknown parts of the scorch. Into this bloody warzone. And I'm trying to kill him. I didn't die falling off the maze wall. But I might as well have. I still lost to the thoughts. And he'll still understand, right? Tommy. My friend. My leader. My boy.
Tommy, Tommy will understand—.
Take me back to the night we met.
Real or not real.
Home is so much to me now. It's more than a bakery. It's more than where the heart is. It's more than four walls. It's more than pain and tears and suffering. Whatever 12 was before is gone. Literally. Lost them all to the Capitol. But I have my own little family now. It's different being away from The Capitol, just being away. Katniss is great, we are authentically ourselves out here. She hasn't been the same since prim and she'll never be the same. Kinda like I'll never be the same after what Snow did to me. We talk to Annie a lot more than before, that poor girl, losing her husband and giving birth to their child must be so so much. Snow took so much from her. Innocence. Youth. Her husband. Her whole life. I'm glad we talk to her. Johanna is hard to reach. She never seemed to truly get over the promise she and Katniss made. Haymitch and Effie are so cute, Haymitch doesn't drink as much as he did, Effie ditched the heavy makeup. Finnick. We wouldn't be here without him. He's my reminder that good still exists, even if he's gone. The impact he had on Katniss and I is unexplainable. I am forever grateful to him. The older brother I always needed but never had. That I'll never have. One of the many things I admired about him was his patience. He was there to make sure Annie knew what was there and what wasn't. Life is still disorienting, I still pray that I don't wake me up from whatever dream Snow put me in this time. I have such a hard time getting used to anything new because if something new shows up it feels like I've just started imagining things again. Katniss is constantly reminding me that what we have is real. It's still hard though. Grasping reality gets hard when you have small copy paste versions of your wife running everywhere. Katniss and I had kids, my favourite colour is still that orange, and I'm allowed to think for myself again. It's refreshing, being able to breathe without someone questioning my every move. Being able to move without camera's being shoved in my face. We swim in the lake every now and then during summer, we play tag in the fields, and dandelion soup to celebrate forever happiness. To celebrate growth. Freedom. We're free—.♪
“No one needs me–”
“I do."
Real or not real.
Home is so much more that it was before. It's more than a hut. It's more than where the heart is. It's more than endless winding walls. It's more than Running and pain and suffering. Our Glade is long gone with WCKD. It'll never be the same and I think I'm okay with that. It's different being away from WCKD, just being away. Brenda is great, she is authentically herself. She hasn't been the same since Newt died but who has? She'll never be the same. Kinda like I'll never be the same after what WCKD did to me. We talk to everyone, especially Frypan, Losing Jeff and Clint, then Winston must've been so so much for him. They were a lot to him. I never really noticed how close they were until I realised how distant I was from a lot of people. Gally is hard to reach. He's been more open but I don't think he ever really shook the sight of chuck. Jorge is such a dad now, to all of us, the maze guys and Bren I mean. He crochets now, does something with his hands that isn't killing someone, he keeps busy with Vince as well. Newt. I wouldn't be here without him. He's my reminder that kindness exists outside of the cruelty that is one's mind, even if he's gone. The impact that he had on me is unexplainable. He's like the brother I always had. That I'll never have again. Newt is someone I'll never be able to forget. I hope. Life is still disorienting, I still pray that I don't wake up from whatever cruel experiment WCKD has put me in. Bren keeps me grounded, helps me come back when I float a little too far. It's still hard though. Brenda and I are officially dating as of three months ago. She's great for me and Jorge has already given me his blessing. I still run, just not for unhealthy hours, not anymore. We walk along the beach and splash in the water every now and then. And Fry's iconic potato soup to celebrate forever happiness. To celebrate growth. Freedom. We're free–.
“You hear—?”
“Yeah. Of course.”
A/N: AHHHH IT'S FINALLY HERE. Okay so I'd literally adore any comments and if you hate it PLEASE DON'T TELL ME THAT I WILL CRY. But constructive criticism is always welcome. A MASSIVE thank you to @zer0brainc3lls and @thirtyminutebreak you guys have been my rock through all of this :)) hope you enjoy this and have an amazing day or not lovelies <333
