This is all Cat's fault because she wanted me to post something.
Here, let me take you heart and rip it out >:3
Part of YJ/Hunger Games fic (the first part of which should be posted soon!.....I hope...)
Zatanna isn’t sure how Billy managed to get into the government building of District Eight, but she doesn’t ask any questions, and welcomes the hug he offers her as soon as he steps inside the room. He gives her an encouraging smile and she wraps her arms around his shoulders. “You’ll be alright,” he says, “you’ll be fine – I know it,” and Zatanna is at a loss in trying to comprehend how her eleven year-old friend can remain so strong, so hopeful and sure of what he believes, in a world where no-one else is.
When they pull away, Zatanna can hear her father outside the room, his voice loud and forceful as he begs for her to be released, demands to talk to someone in charge, insists that there must be a mistake. There must. There’s no way his daughter could’ve been reaped to participate in this years Hunger Games. They had to have done something wrong.
Billy has also noticed the loud voices coming from the other side of the door, and sends Zatanna a sympathetic look. “Don’t worry,” he whispers, “it’ll be okay. Just make it back, and everything will be fine again.”
Zatanna swallows back the lump in her throat. “But if I want to make it back, that’ll mean I have to win, and that means I’ll probably have to…” Billy is looking at her with a confused expression – not completely sure of what’s she’s trying to say. “…kill people,” Zatanna forces out as a choked whisper, and her friend’s eyes widen and he mouths an ‘oh’. Billy opens his mouth to say something more, but is cut off as the yelling from outside the tiny room they’re perched in grows louder, and the sound of a scuffle joins in amongst the shouts. Zatanna can hear the distinct voice of her father easily through all the others; it’s roaring and panicked and she’s never heard it sound anything like this before. He’s screaming out for her, but as much as her heart is begging her run out towards him, the fear of what is happening on the other side of that door drives her feet to take a step backwards, further away from the chaos occurring outside.
She hears the shouted command of “Get the tribute down in the car with the rest of them!”, and the door is thrown open. The peacekeeper that has obviously been assigned to take her outside catches Billy standing next to her, and the younger boy squeaks at the sight of the imposing figure gaining on him. “The hell are you doing in here?” the peacekeeper asks, bewildered as he takes a step towards the eleven year old boy.
Zatanna quickly steps between Billy and the advancing brute. “Run,” she hisses over her shoulder and Billy darts around the peacekeeper and out through the door. For a moment Zatanna believes he has gotten out safe, and almost gives a sigh of relief, when she hears a cry and the victorious shout of “Got him!”
“No,” Zatanna whimpers, falling into step as the peacekeeper in front of her grabs her arm forcefully and pulls her out of the room. As she is dragged out of the room, she catches a glimpse of her father; held back by three peacekeepers, he begins thrashing around in their grips as he sees her walk out of the door, screaming for her, “Zatanna! Zatanna!”
After a moment the peacekeepers decide they’ve had enough, and one of them clobbers her father over the head with his baton. Zatanna screams, and must begin flailing around herself, trying to reach him, because the peacekeeper that had been guiding her has jerked her off the ground and is now carrying her out of the government building. Zatanna catches Billy’s eye as she is carried out; trapped by two peacekeepers and looking at her with an expression of complete fear that hits Zatanna so hard it feels like someone has just knifed her in the heart. “Just make it back, okay?” He yells at her as he himself is picked up, his voice choked and wobbling and sounding like he’s ready to scream. “Just make it back.”
“Where are you taking them?” Zatanna gasps out as she is dropped into the car that waits outside for them. She scrabbles on the car seat, trying to get out, her hands slipping on the leather. “What are you going to do to them?” The car door is slammed in her face and her hands press against the glass window as she stares horrified at the government building, gasping for air and tear creating tracks down her face, completely heedless of what her fellow tributes in the car are currently thinking of her.
I just wanted to let you know that every time I hear the song "Payphone", I collapse into a fit of sobs because of that fic you wrote. sadkajshdlkjsfhjkds
