I'm not crazy

[silberfuchs]

Who: Albert and Jet; Albert, Jet, and Ian; Albert, Jet, and Danny
What: Unexpected visitors and people getting hurt and/or killed
Where: Outskirts of town // edge of the orchard // amusement park
When: Week 4
Warnings/Notes: Character death, blood, violence, etc as you'd expect


One - for Jet

They squabble.

It's a terrible time for it given that people could be lurking in the shadows ready to pounce and kill them at any moment, but as with any long-standing couple, those nothing fights crop up and tensions are running high. Though to Albert, at least, this is not nothing. This is another mouth to feed who just stares dreamily into space but won't detach herself from Jet's side for even a moment.

Jet calls her Natalie, Albert calls her trouble.

"It's some kind of Gamemaker trick, it has to be. It's probably not even her." He knows that the girl can probably hear him; he's only dragged his fiance a foot away and his voice rumbles with unconcealed displeasure. He's not sure why he's so against her but he doesn't give himself much time to think on it. Her very presence, so close to what's his, stokes an angry fire.




Two - for Ian

Days after the incident and Albert hasn't said much. A grunt here or there maybe, every once in awhile if a nod won't suffice. He's emotionless other than when they come across an animal, even something as small as a fly. Then it's as if a switch is pulled and he goes savage, bestial. But never at Jet. Always, Albert circles around him, disposing of any threats to their perimeter, anything that could threaten their well being. Anything that could potentially be dinner.

They haven't been as careful with the food as they should, thanks to this hunger. It's deep and leaves them hollow even after too much of the jerky and rations are gone. It's hard to keep it at bay, to keep moving and searching, though who even knows what for anymore. All they can focus on is keeping each other safe but planning beyond the general concept had become difficult between the pain of loss and their insatiable appetites.

The arena is not infinite; it won't take long before they run across another tribute, but with crowbar and knife and shovel turned spear all in hand, they'll fight with extreme prejudice if anyone gets too close.




Three - for Danny

The amusement park offers plenty in the way of cover but little by way of sustenance and the hunger gnawing at the former cyborgs still aches in the worst way. They ramble through, trying to find some snack bar or food cart that hasn't been picked clean, but to no avail. Nothing. And with the jerky mostly run out, they'll need to find something soon.

A thought occurs to Albert, breaking through the haze of empty red that bleeds through his mind thanks to whatever the arena's done - he recognizes it's not normal for them by now but it's hard to care. Caring hurts. It all hurts and he can't afford to be hurt so he shoves that aside. - that other tributes must have food.

So they'll lay a trap and take it.

With his crowbar, Albert rattles the fence as he walks along it, announcing his presence and letting his gait turn slow and listless until he collapses in a heap under the molded sign of a clown declaring 'you must be this tall to ride!' Clearly he's weak, his face gaunt and pale in the cloying fog, covered in dried blood and dirt. So very weak.

An easy kill.

Comments

[metalicarus]

It happened so fast Jet barely had time to register Albert was in trouble and move before the woman was several feet away and clearly dead.

He stared, frozen for a moment except the loosening of his muscles as he put away the knife. He could understand why Albert might not want Jet to have done something about her, but he hardly thought Albert doing it was a good idea either.

He blinked and pulled his attention away from the corpse the Capitol had made to torment and moved to stand in front of the German, hoping his blocking out the sight would help even a little. He brought his sleeve up to his partner's cheek and pressed on it to try and staunch the bleeding, his concern clear on his face.

"We need to clean this..." His other hand came up to rest on the German's other cheek with soothing and gentle brushes. "Al..." He wanted to tell Albert it wasn't her, that he didn't actually kill his already dead fiancee, that it would be okay, but all of it seemed hollow when he thought too much about it.

So he pulled the German to his chest instead, Jet's sleeve still pressed to his cheek while Jet's other arm wrapped behind his head and shoulders.

[silberfuchs]

"Don't. It wasn't her." He pulls away, just an inch or two but he has to, he has to make Jet understand before it's too late. He can be conflicted later. "Just as that girl isn't Natalie."

It's easier like this, push through and not think about it, not dwell on how he'd snapped her neck...

He's still pale and his hands are shaking and his eyes meet Jet's with such intensity that it seems all of Albert's energy is poured into it, leaving the German an empty vessel. Those shaking hands find their way to either side of Jet's face, Albert's teeth clenched and jaw set. "She'll turn, too."

Because it's the most painful thing. That's what the Gamemakers do.

[metalicarus]

Jet hesitated and glanced from Albert to Natalie. Hadn't he just been thinking how that couldn't possibly be Hilda? And now he was standing there thinking about how Albert could be wrong about Natalie. Jet was being a hypocrite.

But she was just standing there, staring up at him with her pretty brown eyes, looking at him as though he was the only person who could help her.

But all of that could be in his head.

Albert was right about one thing, though, how could she recognize him? Even if he'd still had his red hair and brown eyes, age would have changed him enough to make it questionable.

But what if?

He shook his head and brought his hands away to cover Albert's. "Al, you're right, it wasn't her, but that doesn't mean this isn't Nat. I can't just hurt her assuming she's some trick."

Because what if he was wrong?

"Come on, you're not okay, let's find a place for you to sit for a little while and I'll get you some water."

[silberfuchs]

"I don't need to sit, I need you to listen!" He barks at his partner, clutching at him almost painfully, though at the first sign of a wince he draws his hands back sudden force, as if he'd been bitten.

"You know I'm right, Jet. You don't want to believe it and I don't blame you for that, but you have to know I'm right and I'm trying to protect you." You have to win, you have to get out of here a victor and not have to live this nightmare any longer.

But no matter what he says, the shaking in his limbs and the weakness in his knees tell the real story. He does need to sit, to drink or eat, rest. They should wash out the cuts so they don't get infected. And he knows all this, but it all seems less important than the danger of the vacant dark haired girl with the metal pipe.

[metalicarus]

Jet did wince but as soon as Albert had jerked away, Jet's hands were on him instead, his grip there to support as much as ground. "Albert..."

What did he need to say to convince him? What could he say to get his partner to calm down for two seconds and think of himself? He shook his head and ran his hand down Albert's uninjured cheek. "I need to take care of you before I can do anything else. Just wait a moment."

He glanced at his partner as he stepped away to dig through his pack for the water rations. He needed to clean the gouges before anything decided to start an infection there.

The little girl followed Jet for a moment, as she had been and stood behind him. Slowly, dull brown eyes looked up past the blond towards the German, a ferocity beginning to take root there the longer she looked at him. Then she snapped and let out a scream as she ran towards the German, pole raised and ready to strike him with it.

It seemed to go slow and impossibly fast in Jet's head as one moment he was digging for supplies and the next Albert's argument was being proven correct. But once he realized what was going on, he didn't hesitate or think about it any longer.

His long legs got him to his fiance's side first and Jet put himself between the two. One hand flew out to catch the pole in it's arc towards the man he loved -the force behind it startling considering the size and supposed age of the girl wielding it, the strike easily making his hand go temporarily numb after a burst of pain- while Jet's right hand brought the previously hidden dagger up and straight into the little girl's chest with a sickeningly wet crunch.

Blood poured from the wound on her chest and for just a moment Jet thought he saw a look of pain and betrayal in her eyes. But that wasn't the worst part. The worst part was when she let out a long and loud screech, the like of which Jet had never heard before nor thought he would hear again. Except maybe in his nightmares.

But then the small body crumpled with the dagger still in it and the pole clanged against the ground as everything went silent around them again.

Slowly, Jet turned back towards Albert, eyes impossibly wide and breathing almost nonexistent for how much he was holding it back, as though if he breathed too deeply, whatever fragile calm that had just settled over them would shatter and that sound would start again.

"Sorry..."

[silberfuchs]

There's little time to react but Jet does it for him regardless. One moment the pipe is heading for Albert's skull and the next there's a prone corpse, Jet standing with blood dripping from one hand, and the echoes of a death screech still rattling in their ears long after it's faded from the air.

"It's not-" He stops himself, whetting his lips with a tongue too sharp, almost cutting them on the words he forces himself not to say. This shouldn't be a fight. They're both weary and drained, ravaged by too much emotion so that now they're close to picked clean, bleached and brittle and ready to snap. Or so Albert feels. He didn't want this, Natalie's blood as much on his hands as Hilda's.

Hilda.

He forces himself not to look in the direction her prone body still lies.

"Don't apologize."

A beat. Just one. Long enough to hint at everything Albert tries to keep buried for the sake of survival. "We have to find shelter."

[metalicarus]

Silently, he nods in agreement and hesitates a moment before bending down to retrieve the pipe and the bloodied knife. He would rather leave it there and never touch it again, but those were his emotions talking and not his head; they'd likely need that knife before the end.

His hand found Albert's and held it perhaps a little more tightly than he should as he led them away from the corpses. He was silent for a while, longer than what was normal for him, but when he spoke it was without invitation and without preamble.

"I grew up with her, she was my first...and really only friend when I was younger. Maybe all my human life, I don't remember having many 'friends' besides her.

The last time I saw her, we were ten, then she moved to Illinois. So it couldn't have been her." Just like that wasn't Hilda, the girl he'd known had grown up and lived her life and died peacefully in her sleep, not on some random street in the middle of a godforsaken arena.

[silberfuchs]

The only response is silence, Albert allowing himself to be lead too easily away, dragging his feet just a little. He barely registers what Jet is saying over the noise in his head. It's wordless, no sound he can put a name on, but loud and distracting all the same, drowning out any other thoughts with the cacophonous clamor of guilt and revulsion.

Then suddenly it stops, he stops, digging his heels in an not allowing Jet to tug him any further away. The noise wins out over logic. "We should bury them."

Maybe it's not them, but anyone who looks like Hilda deserves a proper lay to rest and Albert's eyes meet Jet's dully at that task he's set himself to, maybe out of respect, maybe out of a need to punish himself. Either way, he doesn't seem aware of the tears tracking through the grime on his face until the salt stings the wounds on his cheek. Even then he barely flinches.

[metalicarus]

Jet wasn't expecting the sudden stop and jerked because of it. But then Albert suggests burying them and he can see the tears on his partner's face and it tears at him, leaving jagged pieces to have to play the bad guy for both of their own goods.

"No. It's not them, they're things made by the capitol. You wouldn't bury one of those dogs, would you? Besides...it'll just hurt...there's plenty of that already, we don't need more."

His hand stayed tightly curled around Albert's in an effort to ground and keep the German from trying to go back anyway. Jet's voice and stance were solid, he wasn't going to go back unless their lives depended on it.

[silberfuchs]

"They're not dogs, they're-" not people either. He doesn't know what they are, but she had Hilda's face and he killed her.

"We can't just leave them." He doesn't know what else to do. Albert knows he's being inconsistent, that he'd made the same argument that Jet's making now, but if it's true that it wasn't them then why does he feel as if it's his own neck he'd broken.

But he doesn't try and go back on his own, fingers still hanging bonelessly in Jet's grip.

[metalicarus]

"Yes. We can. We are."

He stepped close again and pressed their foreheads together. Everything hurt and he knew it was the same for the older man, he could probably just force them to go at this rate, but he didn't want to. He could yell and get angry to make up for the pain, but he didn't want to do that either. He just wanted them to be somewhere else.

"Please, Al. Let's just go. They're gone." He waited a second before pulling away and trying to lead them forward again.

[silberfuchs]

A swallow.

A nod.

And Albert follows Jet soundlessly into the mist.