David and Grace

Steady and solid, David was; it was fortunate, for Grace's limbs had seemingly liquified and without his support, she would have slumped to the pavement. The burst of energy that once pulsed through her veins had disintegrated, and now, she yearned for a blissful sleep whilst nestled beside a bursting flame. Although, she doubted she would ever get a full night's rest again - not after the games and the trials that they had endured. "Surprised that I have some wits about me?" Grace retorted in response to the compliment. A burst of color flared upon her complexion; the lasting rays ignited the flushed tint that burned upon her skin. She paid for two tickets and handed one off to David. She briefly rummaged through her pockets and produced a diamond band - another item she swiped from the boutique. "Your sister, give this to her. It's rare when...people like you and I have nice things. I am sure she'll love it."

David couldn't help but chuckle when he heard her. She was quite the smart woman, though. She thought of things that David didn't even consider a possibility, but maybe that was why she was such a good partner. He took the ticket and started to walk with her on to the train, making sure not to make too much direct eye contact. They were so close to getting away, after all. David just needed to get through this ride and get her home. Then maybe he could sneak himself onto a train or try and get past the borders. They were all dangerous option, but at least Grace would be home. He stopped for a moment when she placed the band in his hand, and his eyes widened. He almost couldn't speak. "Y-You...I can't thank you enough, Grace. She will love it, I just know it!" he said in a rather excited tone. People like them hardly had anything nice, and this would make his sister so happy.

Jostling through the throng of passerbys, Grace crept to a secluded region and nestled by the window. The city stretched out before them, promising a safe journey home. Home, it was so close that she could practically visualize her cottage, stationed along the outskirts of town. When she glimpsed up at David, she noted the spark of joy that ignited his gaze; this man, how could he possibly be the same man she had encountered days prior? How could he be the same man that threatened her friends' lives? She waded through the sea of questions and settled on one that stood out above all the rest - why did her heart ache at the mere prospect of abandoning him? Swallowing the lump in her throat, she managed a tentative smile. "I thought so. Jewelry is a girl's best friend."

David paused as he sat down in the train cart, wondering exactly what was going through her mind. She was probably itching to get rid of him, though any sane person would considering what he did. He was a horrible person after all. He didn't deserve to make it out of that arena, but here he was. He let his eyes trail down his Grace, his eyes pausing on her image. She was so beautiful...more beautiful than any woman he had ever met, yet he knew that she probably hated his guts. He did so many horrible things to her hand her friends, though he tried his best not to think of it. "You're right," he agreed with a chuckle, looking down at the ring she had snatched. The way it dazzled, it was bound it be expensive, something that he would surely never be able to afford. But it would make his sister feel better. "Grace, I don't believe I ever really apologized for what I did."

Sweltering heat blanketed her flesh; the close proximity unlocked a bundle of nerves. Her heart rate spiked, and she diverted her attention to the mus caked beneath her nails. Since they abandoned the boutique, she hadn't dared to peer into the mirror, for the dirt that dusted over her skin was far too great. David's intent stare influenced a surge of color to paint across her features. Hideous. She was certainly the the barer of his ridicule. She yearned to shield her face, obscure the revolting image that stretched before his vision. Perhaps she would not hold a wick of light compared to the woman that resided in his village. Though, why should she fret? She was not infatuated with the man; he was merely an ally on this escapade. His voice severed the frivolous thoughts, drawing her from the depths of her subconscious. "No need. You didn't harm me," she interjected, a clipped note lacing the notion. It was an outright lie; he harmed her friends, which indirectly affected her as well. Before she had the opportunity to speak once more, a peacekeeper boarded the train. The stark white suit since a spike of fear sweeping through her veins. "You aren't authorized on this passage," the conductor protested; a deep laugh reverberated about the enclosure. "We are authorized to search the cart for the missing tributes," the peacekeeper snarled, and it was all Grace could do to remain calm. She gripped David's collar and forced him to duck behind the cushion; their lips were mere inches apart. "If he passes our cart, I want you to kiss me," she instructed, not even realizing what she was proposing.

She didn't want him to apologize? How could one not apologize for the things he had done to them. "I didn't hurt you? Dear God, Grace, that is the biggest lie you have ever told me," he said, looking her down for another moment. He knew that he hurt her, even if he hadn't directly, he still hurt her friends. He didn't deserve to be here with her. Though he stopped for a moment, seeing something he didn't think he could possibly induce. Was she blushing? No, his eyes must have been messed up. Yes, that had to be it. There was no way that Grace was blushing. He opened his mouth to make a smart comment, as usual, but he was stopped when he heard the cart doors open, and his stomach dropped. They found them. He closed his eyes, trying not to panic as he gripped the ring she had given him. It could all end there, and what was he to tell Caroline? He couldn't leave her alone! His eyes drifted to the woman in front of him when he heard her, his eyes widening a bit. Kissing him was probably the last thing she wanted to do, but if they had to to make it back home, he would. He listened closely as the peacekeeper's boots clicked with the floor, the sharp sound becoming louder as he inched towards them. The sound soon became too close for comfort, and without another word, David wrapped his arms around Grace and pulled her closer to him as his lips pressed against hers.

Disbelief was written across his features; she refused to meet his intent stare, for she hated to admit that he was right. Whilst the pair were teamed up, she attempted to dismiss his transgressions; however, they were now bearing down on her with full force. Did he notice the flush of color that permanently traced her complexion? She diverted her attention to the floor of the cab; dirt coated the surface, and footprints painted the black floor. Her breath hitched as the door clamped upon the floor, echoing throughout the vast space. Every second drew this newcomer closer. Then, suddenly, his lips were upon hers, and her body erupted into a burning flame. The kiss served its purpose. It disguised their features; however, it did so much more than that. I ensnared her heart, trapping her in a moment of torturous bliss. She was falling, which she had vowed to never do. When her eyes peeked open, she stole a glimpse at the peacekeeper and found that he was not a man, but instead a woman. Recognition flared in her gaze, and one word tumbled from her lips. "Mother."

David had half expected her to push him away, even if she had told him to kiss her because she hated him so much, though she actually seemed to enjoy it. He wasn't sure how she could have possibly, but it seemed as if she did. He tried to pull his focus back, listening for the clicking of the boots he had been so focused on earlier, but they seemed to have stopped. It almost made him terrified of why they had stopped, but maybe the peacekeeper was just inspecting them and they would restart, signaling the peacekeeper moving on, but that didn't happen. What happened was the exact opposite of what he had thought. When he heard Grace, he pulled away, looking up at the peacekeeper in front of them. "Grace, I thought you said your mom left. Are you...are you sure," though he trailed off, knowing that if she was right about her mother leaving, they couldn't trust this woman. Which meant...oh dear god. Caroline. He had failed Caroline.

Delirious. She had to be delirious. Had she emerged in a trance due to the kiss? She blinked; however, the woman poised before them did not dissolve. Her memories of her mother were vague; however, the recognition was instantaneous. Her helmet was positioned under her arm, unveiling the woman underneath. Her hair was a rich ebony, snaking down her spine. The bow of her lips was sharp; she had a lean nose and oval shaped eyes. It was almost as if Grace were peering into a mirror. When their eyes connected, a spark permanently fixated in her mother's gaze. She reached into her pocket, and Grace half expected the woman to position a gun upon the pair. Instead, she gripped a standard walkie talkie. "All clear here," she noted, her voice clipped and secure. "Are you sure Mrs. Sinclair?" the voice protested on the other line, and a scowl etched across the woman's features. "I am no longer a Mrs. and I am positive. Let's head out. We won't find the tributes here." Relief oozed through Grace's system. She had been spared. "She did," Grace whispered once her mother was out of earshot. Pinpricks of tears blurred her vision. "Her death would have been better than this, because then I would at least know that she hadn't betrayed us." However, the events continuously replayed about her thoughts. Her mother had saved her, but the real question was why?

David couldn't hide the shock on his face as the following scene played out. She had spared them, freed them, but why? If she was anything like Grace had described her, she should have captured them without a second thought. He took in a deep breath, trying his best to calm his nerves. They were safe for now, but he wasn't sure how long that would last. He looked over to Grace, though her mind seemed to be stuck on her mother. He wrapped his arms around her, trying his best to comfort her. It was something that he did when his sister was upset, so maybe he would work on her as well. "I know I'm not the best company, but I'm here for you if you need me," he said, his eyes scanning her face. She seemed so hurt by this betrayal, and he would do anything to make her happy again, to make her feel better in some way.

She felt hollowed out - detached from the world. Her mother corrupted their family name, for she joined forces with the opposing side. She hadn't left in fear, nor did she depart to rid the pair of another mouth to feed. She hadn't died. All along, she dwelled in the capital, sheltered by the cruel members of society. And she despised her, cursed her name. The woman who had abandoned her was not worth scum, and yet it all hurts just the same. When David embraced her, she slumped against him; the energy had been soaked out of her. "Tell me about your sister," she requested, the notion tumbling from her lips in a mere breath. She needed a distraction; otherwise, the tears would stream down her cheeks. And her mother didn't deserve that. She could strip Grace of her dignity, for that was the last sentiment that she had to cling onto.

David could see the hurt written all over her face. She had been betrayed by her mother, and she was starting to crumble, but David was going to be there for her when she needed him. He was going to make sure she got home to her father and the two of them were safe. He would make sure she was happy before he even thought of himself. At her request, he thought about his sister. "Well, her name is Naomi, but I call her Caroline. She's brilliant, a whole lot smarter than me to be honest, and she's so sweet. She never complains...she's perfect and I love her more than anything," he said honesty. He was starting to miss her the more he thought about her, but he knew that he would be home soon. He would see Caroline and they would be happy. "I hope to God she doesn't know what I did, but if she does...I hope she understands why I did it. I won't ask for her forgiveness, though. I don't deserve that." He was terrified she would hate him.

The remnants of the events dissolved, fading into the dull abyss. She rested her head upon his lap; her eyes drooped, shielding her from the torturous world. When surrounded in his tight embrace, she felt secure, which was an odd sensation. Days prior, he was a common enemy. Now, he was her only ally, her only friend. She allowed herself to imagine this child — innocent and pure. She belonged in a realm far different from than their own; however, no one could afford such a luxury. She doodled patterns upon his knee, an aimless act that was meant for a lover, not a friend. Her fingers dropped, outstretching towards the floor below. "But she'll forgive you anyway, because you are her brother," she murmured, and her eyes drifted towards the window, where a sea of colors painted across the landscape. She realized, in that moment, that she had as well — she forgave her mother, even if she didn't want to, even if her mother never pleaded for her mercy, even if she weren't particularly a mother at all.

David stopped for a moment, looking down as she traced shapes upon his knee. He found comfort in the small action, even if it didn't mean much to her. He pressed his lips against her head, hoping to comfort her in some way or another. She deserved so much, but somehow she was still mistreated. "I hope she does, though I won't blame her if she doesn't. I can see why she wouldn't," he said honestly, his hand starting to clasp with her. "I know I'm not a good man, Grace, but I swear to you that I will make sure you are happy before I even think of leaving you. I owe you so much, but it's the least I can do for you," he said, biting his bottom lip. He shouldn't say it, but he enjoyed the kiss more than he should have. Was he falling for her?

The kiss, though chaste and tender, sent scarlet pooling upon her cheekbones. No one, not even her father, had nurtured her in such a way. She was bred to fight, to defend the name of her family line. Yet, she never believed her name would be stripped from the bowl - that she would be the poor soul tossed into the frightful games. She recalled the last moments with her father - hope, pain, regret. However, there was an ounce of emotion hidden beneath - pride. Pride that his daughter had been picked for the games. The dejected words coated the airstream, drawing her from her memories. Her fingers traced over his lips, prying his teeth from the tender flesh. "Can't you let someone believe in you for once? You aren't as...terrible as you try to portray yourself. Everyone in that arena....was innocent, even you. Because what you did, was your strategy to survive."

David kept silent as he watched her fingers move. Somehow she managed to go about everything in a way that kept him calm when he wanted to do nothing more than break down. He managed a while when he heard her words, though it was still hard for him to see himself in that way. He thought he was a monster. He had played Jaycee horribly and almost killed both her and Dustin in the process, though after they left Grace on her own, he couldn't say he regretted it too horribly. He hated to say it, but he wanted them to feel guilty for leaving her. They were a team, and no one was supposed to be left behind. He would make sure Grace didn't. "I'm glad you think so. I...I suppose you are right in some sense, though I don't think I can ever take this guilt off my shoulders," he said, letting his gaze turn to the window as building seemed to fly by. They would have Grace home in no time it seemed.

Aimlessly, Grace toyed with a loose string that clung along the outer edge of her gown; the worn material threatened to unravel at the faintest tug. She couldn't help but wonder about her friends. Did they feel safe and secure? Had they reunited with their loved ones? Why did she even care? The answer was clear, even to her. Though they had abandoned her and she was forced to coincide with David, she couldn't help but fret over their wellbeing. It was in her nature, written in her very blood. Her gaze skirted to the man careened over her; her nimble fingers connected with the coarse strands of hair. The wig's texture was equivalent to hay, rough to the touch. She yearned to comb her fingers would the golden locks underneath, but refrained from doing so as her fingers dropped to her lap once more. The train came to a sudden halt, and the blaring lights of district three attracted her attention. They had arrived.

District Three. He had never really seen it besides a few pictures in school, but it seemed to be about the same. Littered with factories as far as the eye could see. This was what Grace called home. He could only imagine what she was thinking. As the train came to a stop, he took her hand, standing for a moment. They would have to be even more careful, for the fear of someone from home could recognize Grace and turn them both in, for he was sure there was a hefty price on their head. "Let's get you to your dad," he said, taking a hand and leading her off of the train. The moment he stepped off, he looked around the placed, looked at the families together. He realized then just how much he really missed his own home. He realized how much he missed Caroline. He could only imagine what Grace felt being so close. "Lead the way," he said, flashing her a charming smile.

Smoke filtered about the land, a revolting sight to those who were unaccustomed to the industrial lifestyle; however, this was Grace's oasis, a hidden sanctuary that provided shelter and security. Men meandered along the sidewalk after a long day of work; smut covered their faces, deceiving one of their identity. Her heels clicked as she threaded down the steep steps. Her dress rippling all the while. She felt much to extravagant, as if she were merely a visitor rather than a resident. An uneasy smile traced her own lips, and she guided him through the sea of individuals. Her head remained low, shielding her features from those who may recognize her. Yet, she had a hunch that they wouldn't dare turn her in, not now. "This is almost too good to be true," she mused, am awed sigh spewing from her lips.

David couldn't help but look at some of the men as he passed by, watching as their soot covered faces came and went. Some of them were so dirty he could hardly make out many features. How did these men do this for a living? He paused for a few moments, following Grace and looking around. He could only imagine what it was like to work in the factories. He took in a deep breath as the neared what seemed to be the housing. The houses were small, though he didn't expect much else from them. They all seemed to look the same, though he was sure Grace could tell the difference. He slowly followed her up to a single house. He almost didn't want to let her go.

A layer of muck coated the porch steps, permanently engraved on the wooden surface. During her childhood, her father had worked endless hours. Rarely did she see a smile painted over his features. She gripped the blonde wig, ripping it from her scalp; in doing so, she revealed the veil of ink tendrils underneath. She rubbed her face in a vain attempt to wipe aside the layer of makeup that marked her complexion. Peering into a pool of water, she gazed at the woman who stared back at her; it was a murky image, diluted by the mud. She was identical to her mother, a fact that influenced a sickening sensation to bubble in the pit of her stomach. She hesitated as her fingers latched upon the handle; her gaze briefly latched onto David's. Words died upon her tongue; no amount of syllables could express her utter gratitude. She hadn't the chance to speak, to bid a simple farewell, for a crash sounded from within her humble abode - for humble it was. Her heart lurched, and she tossed about the door; it banged against the wall, unleashing a layer of thick dust. Their eyes met for an instant, a brief moment whilst suspended in time. She could have sworn he mouthed an "I love you" before a bullet was blasted through his head, and all Grace could do was let out a shrill cry.

David didn't want to let her go. He didn't want to lose this beautiful woman in front of him, but he was sure that she would never see him again. Maybe it was best that it be that way. He wasn't good for her...for anyone in fact. He opened his mouth to speak, but the sound of a gun firing stopped him. He instinctively grabbed Grace, pulling her away from the door as he cursed loudly. "Shit...shit!" he hissed. They had been found! "Grace, we have to leave, now!" He said as he grabbed hold of her hand and pulled her away from the house, though he wasn't quite sure where they were to go. Could they run to his district? If they were already to her family, did they have Caroline? The thought of losing his little sister tore his heart in two. He felt as if he had failed her completely. He needed to protect her, but how could he when he was so far away?

Salty tears spilled down her cheeks, painting her flesh and splotching the expensive gown. She sank to her knees in spite of David's desperate attempts to draw her from the doorframe. Dirt brushed over the fabric, ruining the dress — the nicest thing that had ever adorned her frame. Her throat was sore from the screams. She felt weak, drained to the point. She lost her will to fight; her father was the reason she escaped the games and risked a horrid punishment. She had lost her only family, the man who raised her. "It's too late," she mumbled, her lips trembling as the peacekeeper came into view. When he lifted his helmet, her mouth fell open. She knew this man — he resembled Drake to the point that they were practically identical. "Victor Sherwood," she breathed, too stunned to veer out of the doorway, to flee with David.

David couldn't believe that she was giving up, though the more he thought about it, the more he realized she had every reason to. She had lost all of her family now. David was going to be her family, though. He would be there for her as much as he could, though that was if they made it out of there alive. He had to make sure that she at least made it out. Then maybe she could get her to find Caroline for him. He narrowed his eyes when he saw Victor remove his helmet. He had seen the man only a few times, though he knew exactly who he was. Without another thought, he ran at the man, swinging his first until it connected with his face. "Get out of here, Grace!" he yelled, trying his best to hold Victor back.

Time ticked on at an excruciating rate; the malicious smile that crept over the man's lips sent a chill traveling down her spine. Her stiff muscles melted the instant David rushed at the man full force. She flexed her unthawed fingers and hustled inside. Her knees skidded along the winding slope, and splinters imbedded into the tender flesh. In spite of David's efforts to rescue her, she wasn't about to abandon her partner in his time of need. Her fingers latched onto the rifle. She could barely keep the gun steady, much less concentrate enough to pull the trigger. "If we go down, we go down together. I don't abandon my friends," she noted, her gaze intently resting on David's before she shifted to point the gun at Victor. "Release him before you meet your maker a little earlier than expected. Then again, maybe I would be doing the world a favor. You should go back to the hellhole you came out of," she snapped, venom dripping with each syllable. Victor was nurturing his wounded nose, all the while gripping David's throat with his free hand. "You wouldn't. Not when I have the answers you've wanted since you were a child," he mused, a chuckle trickling from his lips. He was practically using David as a shield, for he knew she wouldn't pull the trigger if there was the offchance that'd she miss.