i'm tired of fighting

“Good,” he nodded once, too. “Then you’re both dismissed.” 

With the man now safely out of view, all Dean's anger returned at once, bubbling up in his chest from where he'd swallowed it begrudgingly. With one pointed look in Emily's direction, he stalked off in the opposite direction, shoving open the front doors with force. He really needed to hit something now.

“Good,” he nodded once, too. “Then you’re both dismissed.” 

With the man now safely out of view, all Dean's anger returned at once, bubbling up in his chest from where he'd swallowed it begrudgingly. With one pointed look in Emily's direction, he stalked off in the opposite direction, shoving open the front doors with force. He really needed to hit something now.

He eyed her as she explained herself, before taking another glance at Dean. The man still looked angry, but considerably less so than before. Clearly, he’d realised he was being unreasonable. Bellamy, now impatient to get away and think, shrugged. “Fine. That’ll work. As long as it gets done. But I’m holding you responsible, Eve. And you’ll relieve her on the cells at dawn,” he nodded at Dean. “Everybody understood?”

“Not anymore you’re not. We need you elsewhere now. Tensions will be high with this announcement, and I have important things to do. You can end your shift at dawn. Got it?”

Nothing could have stopped Dean from snapping back then. Not even his brother. “Oh, you have ‘important things' to do? Like organise all those people's tortures? ‘Cause you’re the big man in charge, right?” He questioned, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Bellamy narrowed his eyes at the curt response, stopping in front of the soldier and lifting his chin. He'd been rattled by the announcement himself but it didn't mean he could let it show. Besides his sister and Raven, he didn't trust anybody. “I need you to cover the cells. Now.”

There was no way in hell Dean could go back down there again. Not when he was close to seeing red. Breathing through his nose, he cleared his throat and looked Bellamy in the eye. “My shift doesn’t start for another hour. I’m on break.”

The news was.. unsettling. He wasn’t sure of the President’s intentions. She’d always been right, but something in her latest announcement didn’t sit right with him. None of it sat right with him, actually. But Bellamy didn’t have much time to think about it before people were pushing past him, one looking a little more aggravated than he should have.

It took everything within him not to turn around and slam his fist into their patrol leader’s face. This douchebag was always giving them orders — Dean swore he had more respect for the monsters he used to slaughter. Clenching his fists, he attempted to keep walking, just in case the man gave up. But he should’ve known better. Exhaling heavily, he stopped, waiting for Bellamy to catch up. One more thing on his plate and he'd snap. “What?”

Immediately feeling stronger in the presence of someone who understood her, Amy forced a smile, knowing they needed to keep up appearances. The cameras could pan to them at any given moment, the Capitolites desperate for gossip, so despite how much she wanted to rant and rave about how much she detested these events, Amy remained quiet. She took the drink Dean offered her, showing no hesitance in polishing off the glass. It was only her second of the evening, but she knew it wouldn’t the last. With smoking off the table, she was subsisting one coping mechanism with another, anything to pass the time until she could return home.

“Don’t gotta thank me,” he nodded, knowing he could use about the same himself. But he’d given his up because they had to look out for each other. No one else would. “Bat your eyelashes and hang around these tables long enough, you’ll scrounge up ten, piece of cake.” Dean flashed another forced smile at no-one in particular, leaning closer to her for just a moment, voice low. “Just be careful not to show its effects, or they’ll make you throw it right back up.” He’d been the victim of ipecac more times than he cared to remember, the memories deeply unpleasant.

After a particularly uncomfortable interaction, Amy felt her composure begin to break. It never became any easier, being paraded around and showcased. All she wanted was to go home. Knowing that was an impossibility, she found herself heading towards Dean as a means of comfort instead, ignoring the rising pace of her own heart as she walked across the hall. She didn’t say anything, but she knew he’d understand her by expression alone. When one of them began to slip, the rest stepped up to help carry the weight. She needed that from him now. 

Dean, as he had done for the last fourteen years, was disguising himself amongst the buffet tables. Sammy had already been ushered away, and now feeling the familiar urge to kill something, Dean was downing every drink that came past him. Effy and Casper’s arrival was good news for the rest of the Victors, as they’d instantly become less exciting. But the Winchesters were still long-term favourites, unique jewels from the foreign land of District Eleven, so he was never truly free of his Victor duties, participating in idle chatter about how delectable the spread was this year, and which district the next winner might come from. So long as the drinks kept flowing, and nobody grabbed him, he could refrain from jamming a fork in their eyes. Maybe.