abandon all hope

Hades could feel the desperation rise in him. He couldn’t kill Claude, how could he ask that of him? It was almost cruel, the way he pleaded for death at Hades’ hands, like it wouldn’t settle deeply in his bones and never let go again. He could already picture himself, calling out to someone who’d never come back. After all, he’d wasted his life away waiting for the ones who’d left him by himself. How could he have thought he could ever keep something his heart got attached to? 

He couldn’t breathe, then, didn’t know whether it was him spiraling down into a dark bottomless pit again or if it was just Claude resting his head onto his shoulder. He couldn’t do this, could he? If anyone deserved to live, it was Claude. Not just him, so many who’d have deserved to live were dead now. Maris, Gemma… Why was Claude so desperate to become another ghost story? 

While it hurt him to think like this, he doubted Claude would have the motivation to survive any of this if he’d come here to die. He’d come here to die. Him and Antigone. 

Hades shifted and reached up to cup Claude’s face between his hands, caked in dried blood, his own and Maris’, so he could look into his eyes. What he was searching for in them, he couldn’t say, but Hades’ own flickered between Claude’s. Who was he to deny Claude that wish? He wanted it to be him, while it might as well could be Dexter or Ariadne to deal the final blow. He didn’t want Claude to have to suffer like that. 

And as he looked into the other’s eyes, it didn’t feel entirely real. It felt like a dream, while his mind was hazy from the bloodloss and the lack of sleep. Hades felt as though he’d wake up any moment and they’d still be lying in the grass. 

He felt at a loss for words. There was nothing to do other than to either break Claude’s heart by saying no, or breaking his own by saying yes. Hades wanted to buy time, that was the only other option he had. 

Determined, Hades pulled Claude in, and pressed his lips against the other’s. The kiss only lasted for a few moments and when Hades pulled back, his eyes remained closed. “It that really what you want?” he whispered. “Are you sure about that? Are you absolutely sure?” There was a certain desperation in his tone, a clear wish for Claude to say no to this. 

As every second passed on, it was getting harder to be okay with leaving at all. And when he felt the press of Hades’ lips against his own, soft and gentle and so full of all the unspoken words between him, he almost broke down into a sob. There were things he'd never get the chance to say to him, that he'd never get to do with him. He'd never get to feel the warmth of his embrace again, see the smile that he graced Claude with again, get to feel the tinge of heat in his cheeks at the embarrassing comments they always managed to say to one another again. Maybe, if Antigone was right about all of this, they'd meet again someday, someplace new. He just hoped that that day wouldn't come so soon. 

He nodded his head for a few beats unable to get the words out right, his eyes still closed from the kiss. "Yes.." No, no, no, no, I don't want this, I don't want to do this. I don't want to leave, I don’t want to leave you— his eyes shot open to see Hades' staring right back into them, and... and the frantic thoughts were gone. It was only Hades. He cleared his throat, "Yes. I'm sure." His eyes screwed shut again, the thoughts of uncertainty and distress resurfacing once more. I'm not, I'm not sure. Please, please, please don't make me. Open again. Hades. He had to keep his eyes open. Everything was okay when he could see Hades. "Thank... thank you, Hades. Thank you. Thank you for doing this, thank you." his ramblings were tainted with a hint of sorrow, the part of him that wanted to stay and the part that knew he just couldn't, both fighting to make themselves heard. And so if he had to go, he'd have it this way... with him. 

Hades waited patiently for Claude to tell him what he wanted to say. When he felt the other take his hand, he readily laced their fingers together, giving the hand a reassuring squeeze. Whatever it was that Claude wanted to tell him, it couldn’t have been that bad, could it? They’d come this far, they’d spent almost a week inside the Arena now, and neither of them had died. Perhaps, they could stick together, now. He’d get Percy in on it. She could get Antigone there too, and they’d wait out the end. 

He listened to the tribute from Eleven, and he listened before truly realizing what it even meant that he was saying. Hades’ brows furrowed. “What… Claude, what are you…” 

This couldn’t be what he was asking of him. Not Claude, no, not Claude. He’d let himself live in this blissful, foolish make believe world he’d made up for himself, where he’d truly thought that anything could work out. That they’d just… go on until the end and then they’d figure the rest out there. Hades couldn’t have anticipated that this was what the end would be. 

Claude’s hand in his, while he asked something of Hades he wasn’t truly strong enough to do. 

“Claude,” Hades pleaded. Somewhere between the realization that had dawned on him and the other man’s words, the desperation had set in. He wanted to let go and run, in that moment. He couldn’t do this, any of this. “Why… Please… Do you even realize…” Hades cut himself off. It couldn’t have been easy for Claude, to ask this of him, yet there was nothing easy about hearing it either. “Claude,” he turned towards the male and fully looked at him, trying to catch his gaze. He wondered how much sorrow there was in his eyes, how much premature guilt and suffering. “You’re asking me to kill you. It’s… I…” He searched for the right words he’d never find while his voice cracked at every turn. None of the tension from before they’d fallen asleep together had disappeared, it’d just lurked in a dark corner of his mind, waiting for a chance to return. “Claude, I…”

The desperation, clear and painfully present in Hades voice as he spoke had every word sounding like a plea to Claude. It was almost enough for him to go back on his words, to tell him he would stay, that everything was okay and he could keep living in this bubble he created for himself where things were fine. But he couldn't. It didn't make hearing any of it hurt any less though. He felt his stomach twist and flip with the utter guilt that grew inside him — this is selfish.

And it was; it was incredibly and utterly selfish to ask this of the boy from One, all because he couldn't do it himself, because having Hades be the last thing he saw sounded better than any other terrifyingly unknown death. But did he not deserve a sliver of selfishness, when he'd gotten here trying so hard to avoid being selfish? Maybe Hades would understand, or maybe he wouldn't and he could feel his own sense of desperation come out at that thought. "I know what I'm asking you, I know," he said, voice raw with the mix of emotions he felt, "And I get it, I get it if you can't do it but... when I picture it happening I get so scared, I get so scared I can't even think, but," he pauses, letting out a stinted chuckle, "Then I think if it was you," if I could just be with you, "I wouldn't be so scared anymore." 

He leaned forward then to rest his head on one of Hades' shoulders, wishing he could stay just like that, that they wouldn't have to do anything but just sit here. With Hades' everything just stopped for a while. It shouldn't have been possible but he was thankful for it except for the fact that the nature of the games guaranteed he'd lose that safety, one way or another. Maybe, if he could have him right there though, he'd be able to keep him somehow, some way. "Please.. please," he whispered into Hades' shirt, "Just... think about it."

Malach immediately stepped away when he felt the other man draw closer. He had no interest in getting into a fight in such a small space, especially when he was certain his leg wound was starting to bleed again. He needed to get out so he could find some medical supplies, or find a way to ask a sponsor for it. He was worried about infection, worried it was already seeping into him as his body felt like it was heating up with each passing hour.

‘They can’t do that.’ They could, that was why he loved the Games. He’d once dreamed of being put in impossible situations, being the clever tribute that gained fame for how he got out. But now he was here, trapped with a stranger, suffering from blood loss, and there was nothing he could be clever about. Years of training, of reading and watching every scrap of material he could, and now all he could do was loosely curl his hand around one of the bars in the hopes the other tribute might find something of use.

But he’d forgotten a key question - was the other man armed? He was too concerned about standing upright to worry, until he saw the flash of a knife. It didn’t scare him, not as he’d been expecting. It was a small knife, but it was still a knife, and he found comfort in the familiarity of the sight. He might not be clever. He’d dreamed of being conniving and smart, but there was something he’d always been good at, something he’d been reigning in to keep on the good side of Careers and other tributes. He wasn’t ready to kill someone. But he was getting ready for it, and maybe that was the sickness filling him up now.

He lunge forward, grabbing for the knife. He moved quick and forceful, just as his trainer had been showing him for years. Maybe he could’ve stopped there, just snatched up the knife and tried to threaten the other. But he was impatient to prove himself. He needed sponsors to send him gifts, and they didn’t send an ombudsman-like tribute gifts. Swift in his movements, he lashed out at the man’s face with the knife in hand. He’d felt the way a knife sank into a dummy before, but never real human flesh, and not such tender skin.

The shock of his own attack was quickly overshadowed by the clicking of the door as it opened. Not leaving a moment to waste, he took a long leap with his good foot leading the way. He landed hand on the injured leg, nearly crumbling to the ground. But he got back up, and limped on quickly to get away before he got trapped somewhere else.

It all happened so quickly then. Claude thought at that moment, that this would be it. He wasn't exactly sure what he could expect from the other tribute then, he had no clue what his motive had been, but what he did know, as he felt his knife being pulled from his hand, was that whatever was to come next couldn't be good. It was confirmed when he felt the knife cut through the flesh of his face, and then the blood that poured out in droves. It quickly obscured his vision, and a mouth left open in shock let the blood seep in between his lips and pool in his mouth until he couldn't taste anything but rust.

Maybe he should have expected this. Maybe, if he'd been a bit more cautious, he would have been alright, if he had just listened to what the boy had asked him to do, to stay still, he wouldn't be falling hard on his back just then, he wouldn't have been in the face of a gruesome fate just then.

Except that when Claude had gathered himself enough to grasp what was going on, all he caught glimpse of was the boy picking himself off the floor and leaving him there, panting heavy breaths as he tried to comprehend what had just happened. The door was open again now, but he didn't know how or when it had happened, but frankly, he couldn't care about any of the 'hows' and 'whens' right then.

Even with the door now opened, he just sat there with a heavy stare forward and an unwavering labored breath. He wasn't sure he was ready to pick himself up just yet, not when he'd just thought that he wouldn't make it out of the cage alive. But eventually, he peeled himself off the ground, out of the fear that the other might come back to finish the job. It seemed unlikely, but it was enough to get him on his feet and getting out of that stuffy birdcage, and enough to make him never want to set foot into anything like it ever again.

He willed his mind to only feel Claude’s presence and to push away the pain in his body and heart. The embrace felt like the healing balm he needed for his soul, while the burning in his leg and the jabs in his chest just felt like they were dragging him down to hell. 

It’s okay. I believe you. You’re safe. 

Hades allowed himself to be lulled into some sense of safety by Claude’s voice, the words he whispered into his ear. Little did the boy from Eleven know that while Hades was spiraling down into unfathomable depths that he wasn’t sure he’d get out of again, Claude had extended a hand to him and pulled him back up. 

Breathing felt easier, then. It stopped feeling like every breath that filled his lungs was stolen from another when the other’s fingers brushed through his hair and pulled him down to lie on the ground, nestled together in the grass. 

You’re safe. 

And he let himself believe it. He pushed everything that plagued him to the back of his mind and focused on Claude’s arms around him and his heartbeat in his ear. He was alive. They both were. It was his last thought before he drifted off into a light sleep. 

They were alive.

-

He stirred when he felt Claude move. His sleep had been restless, but he woke up less anxious and disturbed than he’d been before. Hades’ body still ached with fatigue, limps stinging with every move he made while his leg kept throbbing painfully, but he almost felt a bit better. 

Blinking sleepily, Hades groaned under his breath and slowly sat up as well, rubbing his hands over his face. He had no idea yet about what was on Claude’s mind, blissfuly unaware in his sleepiness while he straightened his back and turned his head to look over at the other man. Hades felt a little more at ease then, as he smiled, still slightly exhausted. “Sure, spit it out.” They were sitting close by each other and he felt comforted by the warmth that emanated from Claude. Perhaps that was the reason he’d been able to fall asleep at all. The reassuring beating of his heart and the warmth that enveloped him. Such a welcome difference from the cold he’d become used to feeling inside. 

He shifted to sit knee to knee with Hades before he could begin to say anything. Was it a want to be closer to him, or was he just putting off what he would say next? It was both, he thought. If he kept pushing it away, he wouldn't have to leave him just yet. But he couldn't keep putting it off anymore. He was scared, but it'd only be worse if he let it go on. Antigone, maybe, would be proud of him for this. He was finally facing this head-on, instead of letting it eat away at him. He wouldn't get to tell her that, but maybe Hades would. 

He didn't know where to start in his ask, but he had to say something, anything, or else he never would. Slowly, he reached a hand over to one of Hades', holding it in his own. He needed the support, to feel him right there if he was going to be able to do this. 

"I-I've never told you but, the reason I'm here," he stopped himself, redirecting his words, "My district partner and I, we came here to die," he managed to force the words out; it never got easier to speak about it, but, he was beginning to be okay with it almost. He had to be okay with it, because it was all that was left. He squeezed Hades hand then, grip so tight his knuckles had almost turned white before he loosened them again. He just needed to tell Hades now, in a way he'd understand, in a way he would just know that Claude needed it to be him. "I've... I've never wanted to do it.  I didn't want to do it, but I have to, and none of that changes the fact that I have to do it and I know that but-, I can't still," he rambled off quickly, leaning in closer before he spoke again. "I can't do it myself. I just can't Hades," he choked out. "Please, and I know this is asking a lot but I need you to..." he drifted off,  closing his eyes briefly. It hurt to look into his eyes, but he forced himself to open them again; Hades' deserved that from him. "Can you please... please do it for me," he whispered, and he hoped that he had said enough then to make Hades understand, "I need it to be you... please, don't make me do it myself." 

He would’ve cried, had he not been so exhausted. Was exhausted the right word for it? Drained, was more like it. Drained of blood and drained of energy, drained of a certain will he’d only truly discovered once he’d stood inside the Arena, staring out at the vast expanse of the zoo. His little cage, that he’d either soon get out of or perish in alongside all the others. Of course, no matter how far her got, he’d leave pieces of himself behind every step along the way. Who knew what would be left of him once he got to the end? 

You’re pathetic. 

He could’ve cried then, as the nagging voice reappeared in his head. It’d been silent for so long while Percy had bit her tongue on all the insults she wanted to throw at him. To have it come back to tear at him, ripping him apart at the seams, right when Claude’s arms tightened around him, almost seemed like a cruel joke. 

Killer. 

Hades felt safe here. He felt impossibly safe and sheltered in Claude’s arms, and yet he knew that the other should’ve been afraid of him. He’d just killed someone. Even in his misery, his personal pain eating a deep hole into the skewed things he called his inside, he still never failed to hurt others. He’d hurt Claude, too, if he wasn’t careful. He didn’t want to, god, he did not want to, but he wasn’t sure if he knew himself well enough in here. Not like he knew himself out of the Arena, back in One where he’d spent eighteen years inside his own head with enough time to memorize what it looked like. 

Killer. Killer. Killer. 

His face pressed into the crook of Claude’s neck as he took shaky inhales and exhales. Right then, he wasn’t even sure what he needed more; Claude’s presence or air itself. 

So, when the other pulled back ever so slightly to cup Hades’ face in-between his hands, Hades had a painful look in his eyes. He didn’t deserve the comfort, he knew that. But somehow, a ball of fear began to grow in his chest. Claude had to know that he hadn’t mean it. He hadn’t meant to do it. “I didn’t mean to, I swear,” he croaked out, reaching up to cover Claude’s hands on his face with his. “I didn’t mean to do it. It was a fucking accident.” There was more sorrow in his eyes and voice than fear now, but Hades still felt afraid that Claude would realize any moment with what kind of person he was dealing with. 

Killer. Killer. Killer. 

The pain in his leg was sending him into an overdrive. Would he have reacted the same had he not been injured already? Would he have panicked like this? “I was attacked by one of the big cats in that…” he took a breath. “In that exhibit. I…” He shook his head. He’d need to change the bandages and finally wrap his leg up in something that would truly stop the blood flow, but right then he felt himself in the selfish need of comfort. Comfort he didn’t deserve. Not one bit. Her face would be in the sky in a matter of hours. Her face would be up there and it was his fault. 

Hades fell back into Claude’s embrace and shook his head. “You’re here. I’m alright. I’ll be alright.” He clung to him, no matter how little he deserved to. 

He let out a shaky sound, vaguely resembling a sorrowful laugh. “Are you alright? What happened to you?”

"Hades, hey, hey, it's okay," he reassured with an unwavering reverence. "I believe you, okay? I believe you," he told him, "You don't have to convince me... I believe you, Hades. You didn't mean to... it was an accident." Claude had no clue if what he was saying was true, if what Hades had told him held any truth but... he had to believe that it was. Not just for himself, but because the agony that dripped from Hades' words pushed him to think that this was exactly what he needed to hear; to hear that someone believed his words and wouldn't try and challenge it. 

He could tell something wasn't right, and he knew what his words suggested, but he couldn't find it in him to care about any of that. He should have been more scared, maybe should have distanced himself from the boy just then, but 'should' and 'would' were two vastly different things. He wouldn't leave him here all alone. He just couldn't find it in him to be scared and he didn't have a clue why that was, but it was. 

It wasn't an obligation either. He was never too good at differentiating others' necessities of him and what he needed to do for himself. But this, this Claude knew. He needed this just as much as the other did, and he was too far gone to save himself from it. 

He listened as Hades told him what had happened, and then when he insisted that he was okay. The way that he held on so tightly made something in Claude ache, how Hades seemed to so desperately need his comfort, so much that he held on without a care for anything else, not even his ghastly injuries. Claude couldn’t be damned to deny him, to pull away and try to tend to his wounds not like he’d even know where to start because he could tell that right now, Hades needed him right where he was. “You’re alright. I’m here Hades. I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered, firm in his words.

Carefully, he ran his fingers through Hades' hair before he thought to guide them to lay on the grass, Hades still close against his chest. “I got into some trouble with another tribute," he explained, "I'm okay. I’m fine,” he reassured, and it wasn’t really a lie. While of course the gashes still stung, the pain he felt before was hardly from the physical injuries he’d sustained.

For now, here with Hades, he was okay. He grew comfortable as he laid there, Hades against his chest, rubbing circles into his back until he could feel the relaxation start to make his eyelids heavy. “You should rest, Hades. You’re safe,” he promised to him, but now that he’d said it, he wasn’t sure if Hades had already drifted off or not. 

-

When he woke up again that day, he was relieved to feel Hade's presence against him. The comfort clouded his mind before something else could make itself known, like a steady knock on the door that got louder and louder until it became too loud to ignore. 

This won't last. 

It was like a slap in the face, to be reminded right then just how certain his fate was, that no matter where he ran to, no matter who he confided with for comfort, that it would find him. And it wouldn’t be pretty when it did.

That same grueling anxiety from before found its way to him then, the one that had him wanting to jump out of his skin. He wanted out, he didn't even know how, but he wanted it, and he grew panicked when it dawned on him that there was no out. Besides the one he'd been trying to avoid for as long as he possibly could. 

And as much as he wished to escape just then, he found he couldn’t go through with it still. It still left him sick, it left his mind fighting itself between what he needed to do, the obligation he had to fulfill, and the fear, the regret, the helplessness that resulted from the severe disdain he had for why he was even here at all. It was overwhelming, blinding, and it wouldn't give up. He felt himself slipping deeper and deeper into the dread until-

Until he felt the stirrings of the boy next to him. And for a second, everything was okay again. 

This has to end. 

 He closed his eyes in an attempt to quiet the grim thoughts that demanded his attention. And when his eyelids flitted open again, he shuffled up into a sitting position with a newfound sense of clarity. He knew what he had to do, what he would have to ask of the boy from One; he just hoped he'd agree. It was the only option that didn't make him sick to his stomach. And in a way that was surely fucked up, it almost sounded... nice. 

“Hey,” he whispered in an attempt to not disturb the peace, as he knew what would come next. “Can I... talk to you about something?” he was nervous, incredibly so, but it took everything in him to try and stop that from showing. He needed to seem sure of this, otherwise he didn't know if the other would even think to agree. 

This has to be it. 

Hades laughed and shook his head. “It’s out there now. It’s alright.” And then, and then, he dared to wink at Claude. Why? He couldn’t say. It was a spur of the moment idea that might as well have shoveled his early grave of embarrassment. His cheeks tinged pink and he quickly returned to busying himself with examining Claude’s cuts before reaching for his water bottle. He’d rather have had bandages on him, something to disinfect the ripped skin with to make sure Claude would be alright, without an infection plaguing him, maybe killing him. But he’d have to make due with the water to clean it, and to hope that the cuts would heal quickly. Some sort of healer he was now, with only water at his disposal. “Sorry, I wish I had more to help you with,” he said, another apology lacing his voice. “Once I get bandages, I’ll do this better, I swear. Hades began to clean Claude’s cuts with drops of water he dripped onto the District Eleven male’s skin. 

Claude smiled nervously as Hades laughed, letting out a few of his own chuckles partially to distract from the way his cheeks reddened after what Hades had just pulled. He considered asking Hades to not do that again because if he had already made a fool of himself with his last comment, getting caught with a constant blush on his face would not help his case. It was best to leave it though, he thought, than to bring more attention to it and because he didn't really want to say anything to make the other stop. 

He held still as Hades began to clean his wounds, only watching on in silence, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. “It’s okay. Don’t use your bandages on me,” he said softly then, grateful for even this small act of kindness from Hades. “You could need them. Think of yourself first,” he didn’t want to think that Hades would need them later on, didn’t want to imagine all the deadly things that existed outside their bubble right now, and so he cleared his throat slowly, before speaking again. “Hades... thank you for doing this.” 

Malach couldn’t move far or fast. It’d taken nearly all day to get back to where he’d felt most comfortable, among the trees and birds. He was sure the snack shop was picked over, but he was learning to ignore his hunger that was sporadically aided by the small meals he had. He’d fallen asleep at one point, dangerously out in the open near the Gorilla Valley. It would be obvious to anyone who saw him and his torn pantleg that he was not in good shape. Hades had been a blessing, but Malach had a feeling his time of leniency and neutrality with the Careers was running out. Still tired, still hungry, still sweating, he trudged his way through the forest in search of somewhere to rest for the night.

The sight of the cage was intriguing. Malach thought only that it was meant for birds. He assumed it would fill up as night went on, that their feathers and bodies might hide him. At least there’d be some sort of metal between him and whatever tributes he came across. Intent, and staring more at the metallic dome than what was in front of him, he limped until he was standing inside. He finally set his gaze down from the sky, and realized, as the door clanged shut, that he was not alone. “I…” He looked back at the door and shook his head. “I didn’t close it, it closed on its own.” But there was no denying the causal link between his entrance and the door slamming shut. 

Nervous, suddenly, in his weakened state in this small space, Malach didn’t even want to blink as he looked at the other tribute. He reached behind him to try to push back against the door, but it didn’t budge. “Stay there,” he warned the other tribute, the hope for bravado in his tone vanishing with the tremble that came instead. He turned and tried to push against the door, pulling desperately at where there should have been a latch or a knob or something but was instead just sleek metal. There was no obvious way to get it open.

With the other boy's answer, he felt the sudden rush of dread wash over him. He wasn’t even sure if he had believed his answer; would it even be any better if he wasn’t lying? It wouldn't matter because either way, they were still stuck in here, strangers in a giant birdcage. Claude straightened himself up in his spot on the ground, going into a defensive stance subconsciously. “It just closed? You didn’t do anything?” he asked, mistrust coming through in his words that he hadn't meant to let shine through.

If the others' reaction was anything to go off of (and it really should have been), he was almost sure the other was in the same boat as he was, that he wasn't trying anything here. Even so, something at the back of his mind nagged him to get up then, to not follow the orders given to him so strictly. Even if he was just as stuck as Claude was, he had no idea what he was capable of; he needed to be alert considering there was no option to simply run now. He picked himself up off the ground hastily, crossing his arms as he looked on to watch the other pull at the cage bars with no luck.

Panic had him impatient, throwing caution to the wind as he quickly pushed forward to where the man had been investigating the cage to see for himself that they were trapped, and nothing seemed to give any indication that there was a way to get themselves out. “There’s nothing? There can’t just be nothing, they can’t do that,” he said, thinking out loud. It was then that he saw a tiny rift between where one of the bars met the ground. He wasn't sure if it would help them or if it'd even work at all, but he crouched down then and pulled a small knife from his back pocket with the plan to shove it between into space. It wasn't a very hopeful idea, but it was the only one he had.

With every step he took, a new wave of searing pain shot through his leg. He’d wrapped bandages around the wound on his thigh, but there had been so much blood, there still was so much blood that he wasn’t sure how long it would take until he had to change them again. He didn’t have a lot of bandages left. Perhaps someone would send him new ones. Or he’d end up having to fight someone for them. The latter wasn’t a preferred option. Hades didn’t feel like he could fight anyone at that moment. 

All he took with him as he limped down the path was a heavy heart and the sound of a cannon blast still fresh in his ears, while he left a single bloody footstep behind each time he lifted his right leg. 

I didn’t mean to. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t mean to. 

He must’ve given quite a depressing picture then, dragging himself down the path while his jaguar walked beside him, his companion with similar injuries to his. Both of them were alive still. It almost seemed like coincidence, a miracle. 

For a moment, he thought he’d imagined someone calling out his name. His gaze rose slowly from where it’d been fixed on the ground, to get him forward without his feet catching on anything and making him fall to the ground. And it wasn’t Percy who called out his name, no, he would’ve known. She’d yelled his name at him for seventeen years now and it was hardly ever Hades. 

His breath stuck in his throat when he saw Claude kneeling by the water, injured and bloody and about as bruised and broken as he felt himself. What a night it’d been. The days before he’d been doing so well, too well almost, and now it seemed everything was hitting him full force. He really hadn’t meant to. 

I didn’t mean to. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t mean to. 

He breathed out shakily and moved forward without a word, limping and dragging himself forward silently until he reached Claude and dropped to the ground in front of him. His right leg felt as though it was on fire for a moment as he fell down, and Hades let out a pained grunt before looking up at Claude. 

He didn’t know what to say. What could he possibly say? Shaky breaths left his mouth in forced puffs while silence lingered between them. There was really nothing he could say. So, he reached out and pulled Claude into a hug. 

Claude felt selfish. Selfish in the way that he hadn't noticed just how beaten down, how worn out Hades was until he was moving towards him. His face fell, drained of all color. It was all he could do to just sit there and watch in horror as Hades limped over with shaky movements; Claude was almost afraid he wouldn't make it over, but he did. Somehow, he made it, and without uttering a word, he brought Claude into an embrace. 

He was selfish. There was that part of him that berated him for finding comfort in the hug as if he didn't deserve it then. Because just look at the state Hades was in, and he was the one to bring Claude into a hug? 

For once though, he'd set that guilt aside. For once he wouldn't give in to the falsehood claims of selfishness in his brain, because he couldn't help Hades in any such state, and Hades had to come first. 

And it wasn't out of guilt from that selfishness that he wanted, no, needed to take care of Hades then. It was because he wasn't sure that Hades could care for himself then if he wanted to. Hades needed him, or he told himself, and Claude ached to help Hades in any possible way he could. 

He wrapped his arms around him tightly, squeezing him closer almost in an attempt to drain him of all the turmoil and pain he felt. Though, he soon loosened his hold on him, scared he’d hurt him if he held on too tightly.

He let go of Hades, only so he could look at him again, to get answers. He moved to cradle Hades’ face in two hands, concern pouring from his eyes, “Hades, what- what happened to you?” he struggled to get out, resisting the urge to ask him if he was okay — he didn’t need to ask to see that he was most definitely not.

Claude’s eyes fell to the rest of Hades’ form to catch sight of the bandages on Hades' leg, remembering the limp he possessed and the cry of pain from the act of just sitting down. “You’re hurt. How did you get hurt? Hades, tell me how you’re hurt.” he asked, resisting every impulse to reach out to the bandaged leg and find out himself. “I can help,” how can I help? “Tell me what to do, and I’ll help,” Claude felt close to powerless to do anything, except pull Hades in close to his chest, an arm wrapped around his shoulders while a gentle hand held Hades head there against himself. He felt panicked by how little he could do then, how minuscule the act had been. “You’ll be okay,” he whispered, and he wasn’t lying. Claude would do everything he could to make sure it was true.

Hades laughed out loud then, with no ounce of sadness in the sound for the first time in the few days he’d been in the Arena. “I can’t-” another bout of laughter cut him off. “I can’t believe you’re bringing this up in here.” He might’ve died of embarrassment that the entirety of Panem watching the Games in that moment now knew he’s called Claude a juicy fruit at any point in time. He watched Claude sit down and lift his shirt, clearing his throat while he knelt down in front of him to inspect the wounds on his chest. There were cuts littered across his skin and Hades brushed his fingertips ever so slightly over the bruising area. “I can clean it. You don’t have clean bandages on you, do you?” He looked up into Claude’s eyes.

...Wait. Wait, wait, wait. Why would he ever say that, immortalizing the name for all. Would this be what he would be known for now? For being a juicy fruit? “I... I shouldn’t have said that, should I?” he whispered, hoping only Hades would be able to pick up on it, although he figured that probably wasn’t true. “Um. Should I? I don’t,” he prattled on. It should have been clear that something as basic as bandages would be needed to make this work, but Claude hadn’t the slightest of clues in how any of this worked. “It’s okay, I don’t need them,” he reassured. He was okay so far without them, right? He could go without them. 

why don’t we try it out ?? he hadn’t outright rejected her, or made fun of her, or even said anything about the way she’d been carrying herself. percy thought it enough to at least work with him here – not trust him, there was no trust here. this was an arena, not a playground, funny enough. but it established enough of a give-and-take between them that percy’s attitude nudged more towards the percy she herself recognised – a competitive edge to her actions, to her soul. if she couldn’t lose herself in the competition of the games itself, in the bloodshed and the idea of being the last one standing, she could at least commit to this. to being first, going first. she raced up the ladder in what could’ve only been considered an unwise move, her shoulder stung as she made no attempt to accommodate her injury. instead, she did what she did best – make everything a test of her strength. even the playground. she was down the slide within a second, had to bite back a smile as she turned back to see how closely claude had followed her. “c’mon then !!”

It was his courtesy that left him feeling a bit shell-shocked at that moment. He watched on as she climbed up to the top and then as she slid down, faster than he could gather himself enough to follow her lead. But as her words broke through, he sprung into action, a smile spread across his face. Claude didn’t find himself afraid or hesitant like he maybe should be.  He rushed to go down the slide then, and when his feet hit the floor, he gave Percy a quick smile before hopping up into a sprint to make a path for the not far off swing set. “Can you keep up? “ he called out to her, doing his best to quicken his pace. Claude was hardly the competitive type, but he could have fooled himself into thinking he was then. Was in the rush of competition? Or was it just from starting this silly race with her, in a place where friendly competition seemed pointless? He chanced a glance at her, smile still there on his face.

Either way, it had him entering the cage doors himself, crouching down within its confines to make himself smaller, so as not to appear as a threat to anything inside there with him. Then came the sound of footsteps on metal, followed by the loud crash that had him spinning around swiftly to see now the cage doors closed, and someone here with him. “Hello,” he called out awkwardly, trying to get a grasp at the situation at hand. “Did you... do that?” he pointed to the doors, eyes darting between the entrance and the other tribute in front of him.

When he heard someone behind him, he almost didn't look back. Maybe they was here to finally take him out, to end his run, but Claude was jumpy, antsy, and waiting for it and so he had to look, needed to know if it was finally his time. And when he looked to saw him there, Claude almost couldn't speak "...Hades?" it came out choked, voice gravelly as if he was on the verge of tears. Part of him wanted to cry then, because here he was, right in front of him. Everything seemed to wash away in his presence; like nothing else fucking mattered as long as he was here. His lips upturned into a smile then, eyes wide and unblinking out of fear that if he did, Hades might dissipate, leaving him all alone once again. 

Maybe this was why he was still here, why he was still alive. It was so he could see Hades again, so he could feel what it was like to want to be alive one more time. "You-you're here?" 

“no, it is fun –” she responded, because percy was many things, but she’d never been a liar. just very good at getting herself into even more embarrassing situations ( this had to be on the top of some sort of list, getting caught playing on a playground in the arena, of all places ). she was sure her cheeks were bright red now, though the tribute from eleven either hadn’t caught onto how his presence had made her feel self conscious, or he simply didn’t care. she made a mental note that she’d have to ask for this moment to somehow be erased from the tapes after her winning the games. no one needed to see her like this. she still couldn’t quite look at him.

percy wasn’t sure if it had been him ignoring how she felt, or him not picking up on it, was still unsure as he tried to monkey bars himself. she could however, feel the heat leave her face somewhat, able to swallow the unease down her throat. he thought it was kinda fun. she nodded. “it is kinda fun,” she responded, biting down on her lip to keep herself from showing more emotion, a smile, whether awkward or genuine, would’ve been too much when she still wasn’t sure of his intentions. there she stood, arms tightly at her sides. not a threat, just.. a girl.

“what – what do you think of the slide ??” almost as if she wanted him to go first, test the waters. like she’d be okay to enjoy herself too if he didn’t think it utterly embarrassing to want to go down a slide.

"Kind of more fun than I thought it would be," with being inside an arena and all. Claude figured that may have had something to do with it, with the way she kept herself composed, cautious; giving away only as much as needed. He understood it. They were, after all, strangers. But it didn't stop him from wanting to get more out of her, something real. 

His attention snapped towards the slide then, eying it up for only a half-second before looking back to the district 1 tribute, the smile on his face growing at her question. It felt so imploring, as if she needed to know it was okay to enjoy something as simple as going down the slide. It was endearing in the kind of way that made him want to laugh, but he wouldn't, afraid it'd scare her off somehow, or cause her to guard herself. "I think it looks fun... Why don't we try it out?" he suggested, already stepping forward towards the slide's ladder, keeping his eyes on the girl as if he was urging her to follow his lead. He was about to climb the ladder up to the top of the ladder before he stopped, taking a small step back, "Wanna go first?" 

He was about to nod and answer that he was indeed somewhat good at patching up wounds, when Claude continued. Hades’ cheeks reddened and he let out a laugh, fingers curling into the soft fur of the little fox in his arms. “You know, we keep saying things like this and it never gets less embarrassing.” He looked back up at Claude then, a smile on his lips despite his rosy cheeks. Hades nodded towards a low branch on a tree somewhere to their side. “Let’s sit over there, and I’ll take a look at it.” The tiny creature in his arms stirred when he came to a stop in front of the tree and he let the fox disappear behind the branches. 

"At least you didn’t call me a juicy fruit this time," and with that, it was Claude's turn to laugh, before he remembered how he just agreed to be patched up by Hades a second ago. He wanted to play it off again, say it was nothing, for reasons he only knew as the fear he'd be a burden, a liability. Selfish is all he felt in the act of being cared for, even in something as small as this. But maybe it didn't have to be that way. Maybe it could be different, even for just one night, with just one person; someone he trusted. Maybe he could be cared for. He followed Hades lead with heavy steps before he sat down below the faux canopy, slow to lift his shirt to reveal the bruising that seemed never-ending on the expanse of his ribs, looking to Hades for direction, for something to do. "Um... Is this okay?" he settled on, unsure of just about everything at that very moment. 

oh. oh. this was worse than a knife in the back, than someone taking her out in the mere minutes she’d let her guard down. this was so much worse than that. someone had caught her trying to have fun and they weren’t going to stab her over it, at worst, they’d both walk away with an awkward conversation lingering in their minds. percy had been caught, it was bad.

she’d not talked to the boy from eleven before. all she knew was that he was a friend of hades’s, and the opposite of a threat, something which he was quick to verbalise, too. nothing she couldn’t take on if necessary, even with the way her shoulder stung, even with the way she’d turned completely red and refused to turn around and face him. she was embarrassed, he couldn’t see that. “i was climbing.. on the monkey bars..” it took her some considerable effort to get the words out, her sentence more a growl than a response. like it was something to be ashamed of moreso than anything else she’d done in here, the killing, the fighting. she’d been climbing the monkey bars. she swore right there and then she wouldn’t do it again.

He was confused. Was it not just a moment ago that he saw her seemingly enjoying herself? But here she was, explaining herself like a child who was about to be yelled at for doing something forbidden. "...Is it not fun?" he cautioned warily; maybe there was something he wasn't getting? Sure, they were in the arena and they were probably supposed to be at each other's necks right now. But what was so wrong with using a playground for what it was made for? 

Maybe it wasn't smart, maybe he was asking for trouble, but he found himself moving to climb up the side of the monkey bars the girl was facing, hands unsteady as he swung across a few rungs before he jumped down, a comfortable distance from the girl. He hadn't done this since he was a kid, but he knew it was different here. It was strange to just be able to play in a place like this. Except, when the other options were fighting or cowering, it didn't feel so bad in comparison. He gave her a half-smile, looking up then at the monkey bars above them. "I thought it was kinda fun." What he was trying to get at wasn't even known to him. Maybe he just wanted to see the girl be lighthearted again, the way she was when she didn't think anyone was watching.