bent not broken

Aspen nodded because she would like to do that. “Lets save it for a day we both need a break.” Well, a day they needed a bigger break than they did now. Aspen didn’t know how hard it would get, but she figured it would get harder once the tributes were in the arena. Even if it was only half as hard as her own time in the arena.

She gave Oakley a small smile she hoped was reassuring. Normal was better than bad she supposed. “Are your tributes here? Should we try teaching them something?” Teaching them something had to be better than nothing. “Do you think they’ll be in an indoor like setting this year? I am kind of glad I wasn’t in that horrible mall the tributes were in before me. Or that haunted house…”

She smiled brightly, listening to Aspen’s suggestion.  “That sounds like a really good idea,” she told the girl.  All Oakley wanted was to take a day and forget about all of her problems.  There was even a piece of her that wanted to return to District Eight, but she knew better than that.  Not only would it harm her tributes’ chances, but she’d regret giving up time she could have spent with Birch no matter how much it would hurt her heart.

Oakley glanced around and nodded.  “I’m sure my tributes are around here somewhere....at least they’re supposed to be.” Glancing at Aspen, Oakley nodded.  “if the pattern holds, they’ll be inside or at least in a more man-made arena.  Every year since seventy-two it’s alternated,” she told her.  Starting with Nolie’s dinosaurs and ending with you last year, but they could always break the pattern to throw us off.”

“Yeah, actually, that’d be great,” she replied with a smile. The idea of killing another Tribute was still hard for her to stomach, so focusing her skills on survival might help her ease back into the combat and even the weapon stations. “What stations are you best at?” She didn’t have a lot of time to learn, the quickest way to learn was to learn something Oakley was best at.

“I’m Ashten, District Seven,” Ashten looked toward the dog and smiled, “nice to meet both of you. How long have you had Everly for?”

“Camouflage, editable plants, cooking, and first aid,” she told her.  The violence was not something Oakley was good at.  It was something she had tried to avoid during her own training to a point.  Of course, in the end she did have blood on her hands, but what could she do about it?

“It’s nice to meet you though, Ashten.  I’ve had Everly for about a year and a half.  She’s been a big help for me,” Oakley explained.  “I have spinal cord damage from my arena, so she helps me walk and will get things for me if I’m in my wheelchair.”

Aspen nodded because she got that. She hadn’t really known what she was in for when she had boarded that train a couple days ago. “That’s the thing no one tells you about.” Sure Aspen had her prep team, escort, and trainer, but that was a little different. She found herself wishing she had someone from home to talk to or even her sister. 

“I like my pencils, probably that’s because all we had.” It was all her parents could afford if she was being honest. Her adopted parents probably could have afforded something a little better, but they had thought art was a waste of time. Art didn’t get you a job in the fields when you finished school. “I have to admit, pastels look fun too. Who would have known there were so many options for what you could do with art.”

“So, what else is new?”

She nodded.  “That makes sense.  I think you always have a soft spot for the first medium you really used when it comes to art.”  She had picked up painting after her victory.  Before that she hadn’t done more than sketch the occasional dress she would try and make for herself when they had enough money for new fabric.  “I haven’t tried pastels.  Maybe we could try them together?” she suggested.  It could definitely be fun, or at least a good way to spend an afternoon.

But Aspen’s question was a loaded one.  She huffed a sigh and shrugged.  “Honestly, I don’t know.  Nothing much, I guess.”  She thought of Birch, but that wasn’t something she should burden Aspen with.  She was still so young and figuring out life as a victor.  “Things are...the same as usual.”

Life after The Games was built up to be something so glamorous and wonderful, something that was desired. But seeing the woman before her, relying on her dog’s harness just to stand, it painted a very different picture. One Ashten was familiar with; the darkness and horror of The Games was not lost on her. All she could do was offer a small nod, unsure of what else to really say to acknowledge Oakley’s current state.

“Mind if I walk with you?” she offered, “I was in hand-to-hand and one of the other combat stations, I think I need a breather, too.”

Oakley’s smile softened when the girl spoke.  “I don’t mind at all,” she told her.  “If you need any help or pointers with some of the survival stations feel free to ask.”  She really did want to help.  Tributes deserved to have a good chance no matter what district they were from.

“I’m Oakley by the way,” she introduced herself.  “Mentor for Eight.  And this is Everly,” she gestured to the dog.  

Birch picked up a hand towel and dried his hands, leaning against the sink while Oakley started to fold the mixture together. Somehow, it wasn’t completely ruined by his interventions with the cocoa and sugar and eggs. It looked good and even though he knew he shouldn’t, he very much wanted to drip a finger in and try the batter. “At least one of us knows what they’re doing,” he replied, watching her mix the bowl. 

It felt like he was constantly stealing glances at Oakley. He wanted the little snippets of what life would be like if he hadn’t blown up in front of reporters and if his District hadn’t silently rioted. Watching her mix the batter was so calming and she was so beautiful, even with a couple of flecks of flour still on her face. 

Her words shook him out of his thoughts and staring and he nodded, going under the cupboards and looking for a cupcake pan. “Saving me from making any more messes I see,” he teased as he dumped the pan and the different coloured wrappers on the kitchen counter. “What colour wrappers do you want? I’m choosing green, because that’s my favourite colour. What’s your choice?” he asked, as he pulled apart the green wrappers and placed them in the pan.

She looked over at him, a playful spark dancing in her expression.  “I wouldn’t have decided to bake if I didn’t know what I was doing,” she teased him.  Teasing Birch came so naturally and she wished it could be like this always, but knew it never would be.  There were too many other things to consider.  Eventually he’d go back to Ten or marry Lael and their friendship would fall by the wayside no matter how much it hurt.  Oakley had to prepare herself for that.  All she knew was it just might kill her when it happened.

“Hmm....blue?  I think that would go really well with green.”  They could have some cute cupcakes when this was all said and done, even if they didn’t taste particularly good.  They made them together and that was what made them special.  “It’s hard to pick a favorite color.  They’re all so beautiful in their own ways.”  Everything about them was unique and it could be used to create the most beautiful images.

“What do you wanna do while these are baking?” she asked him once she had finished folding all the ingredients together.  Now all that was left was baking and crossing their fingers that they at least halfway turned out.  “I mean...if you don’t have to get back to your tributes.”  

Birch just stood there with the egg dripping off of his hands for a moment, laughing and also frozen at the thing he had just done. It was embarrassing but also hilarious. “I do know eggs, but apparently Capitol eggs are weaker than Ten ones,” he explained, trying to salvage his pride a little.

Birch let Oakley take his hands and wipe the egg off of them. Part of him wanted to take her hands as they moved to throw out the paper towels. Part of him wanted to run from the room so he wouldn’t be tempted to hug her and tell her how he felt. And part of him wanted to give her a kiss for cleaning him up.

But, he didn’t do any of the things that he wanted to do, instead he held her gaze a smile on his lips. “It seems that my mother’s and brother’s talent didn’t rub off on me. But, I will gladly take any lesson you offer Oaks.” Birch wanted to spend as much time as he could with her.

He moved to the sink and washed off the excess egg and dried his hands before sheepishly pulling out another egg. He cracked it perfectly this time, flashing a grin at Oakley. “Better I think.”

For a split second, it felt like the world wasn’t moving.  Oakley looked up at him and she could practically feel her heart swelling with love but she couldn’t do anything about it.  Instead she just threw away the towels and took a step back so she wouldn’t be tempted.  He had too much on the line for her to be selfish.  She couldn’t risk his friendship on a whim that could cost him everything.

“Well, I’m always ready to give you lessons,” Oakley explained as he washed his hands more thoroughly.  She picked up the bowl of eggs and poured the contents into the cupcake batter to begin mixing all the ingredients together.  She stirred absentmindedly with one hand, holding the bowl steady with her other.  “That’s much better.”

“Do you want to put the cupcake papers in the pan?” Oakley asked, deciding that maybe it was a simpler and less messy job that hopefully wouldn’t result in another disaster.  Though she decided then and there that she didn’t care if there were always disasters.  She wanted to be there with him, doing these simple things, everyday.  It was an impossible dream she couldn’t achieve, but there was no harm in wanting it.  At least as long as she didn’t act on it.

“That qualifies as one of those nights.” Aspen informed her with a small shrug of her shoulders. She was no stranger to that kind of night. “I like to take a walk when I have those nights. I know probably not the greatest idea back home, but I think around here it’s definitely safer.” There had been something oddly comforting going back to her childhood home even if it brought up old memories. Next to the horror of the Games, it felt almost safe and comforting.

Aspen nodded. “Well, I am sure he appreciates any help you can give him.” She assured Oakley. She certainly wouldn’t mind some help and part of her was hoping Harper would be crowned so she had someone next year, but Aspen tried not to get that far ahead of herself. Hope could be a dangerous thing and she wasn’t sure she could handle the let down. She just hoped it didn’t make her a horrible person for thinking such things.

“I would like to try them! Not sure I’ll ever like anything more than my pencils, but I am willing to try.” It was fun to try new things and she was supposed to be cultivating her talents, at least the Capitol thought so.

Oakley had never given walking a thought as something that could clear her head so she could sleep.  Usually she painted or sketched if she was having one of those nights, but those nights didn’t help her push thoughts away when she always found herself sketching the person plaguing her thoughts.  It was something she had to find a way to cope with, but she didn’t know how.

She nodded.  “We do help each other out.  This whole thing requires a lot more teamwork than I ever realized before becoming a mentor.”  She felt bad knowing that Aspen didn’t really have someone to turn to but she knew she could help her too. Whatever she needed, she was there.

“Exactly!  Trying new things and stepping our of your comfort zone can be a really fun experience,” she told her.  “I mean, I like watercolors more than pencil but pencil works for me in a pinch, especially if it’s late or i’m sore but still want to do a little art.”

He grinned at her protest, chuckling at the look she gave him. Birch didn’t know what more sugar and more cocoa would do to the cupcakes, but it was worth the genuine joy he felt bubble in his chest and he hope was in Oakley too even if the look she gave him was a little more scandalized than joyful. 

“You don’t think I could use a little more sweetness? Or maybe I’m too sweet, I need to add a little bit of sour to me. I’d be lime-ing if I said that it would be easy to add to the Birch recipe.” He sounded so corny, but Birch didn’t care at the moment. It was fun teasing and talking to Oakley while they made a questionable batch of cupcakes. His finger lingered on her forehead a second too long and he withdrew his hand. Birch couldn’t do that. He pushed his hand in his pocket for a minute as if to punish it. 

He put the carton of eggs on the counter, pulling a small bowel close so he could crack the eggs into it. Birch hit the first one and opened it pretty easily, one egg added to the growing list of ingredients that they were pooling together. “I’ll live with my choices Oaks, I will eat all of these cupcakes or at least pawn them off on people before we make another batch.”

Birch cracked a couple more eggs, but on the fourth one, he hit it a little too hard on the counter and it sort of exploded. Egg yolk and the whites coated part of the counter and a little got on his button-down. He stood there surprised for a second making eye contact with Oakley before breaking down into a fit of laughter. 

It was so comfortable being there with him.  She laughed at his jokes, a smile genuinely spreading across her features.  She felt comfortable and happy in a way she didn’t think possible before Birch.  But she couldn’t keep that.  The urge to wrap her arms around him was so strong.  Oakley knew she couldn’t risk it.  She couldn’t gamble on their friendship or his family’s safety, even if his relationship with Lael was a sham.

Every time he touched her it felt like a shock to her system she couldn’t get enough of.  “Well,” she chuckled, “as long as you know to live with those choices.”  Her tone was light and playful as she watched him get the eggs.  Once she did, she started adding in the remaining ingredients to the bowl.  However, when the last egg practically exploded in his hands she soon joined him in a fit of laughter.

“Gentle,” she told him through her fit of giggles.  She stepped towards the sink then, dampening a paper towel to help clean him up.  “I thought you said you knew eggs, huh?” Oakley teased him, reaching out for his hand to instinctively wipe the mess from them.  He’d still need to wash his hands but at least he wouldn’t drip yolk everywhere.  Besides, it gave her an excuse to hold his hands as she wiped the mess away.

Lifting her gaze from his hands to his eyes, Oakley smiled softly.  “You know this means we need to give you a few more baking lessons.”

Birch nudged her back with his elbow, meeting her playful gaze. It was easy with Oakley. Easy to be around her and talk about anything that came to mind. Whether it be the sweetness levels of cupcakes or their deepest fears, Birch didn’t feel like he had to hide anything - except the one thing that he had to keep close to his chest or people he loved would get hurt, Oakley included. 

“Nothing is ever sweet enough,” he stated, even though he very well knew how sickly sweet lemonade could get if June got a hold of the sugar. “Well, maybe not nothing, but most things could do with a little bit more sweetness.” 

He chuckled, tipping the bag just a little bit more so a little bit extra cocoa could get in the mixing bowl. “You didn’t see that,” he teased, retracting his prosthetic. Birch chuckled a little bit more as he noticed the tuft of flour on Oakley’s forehead. “And I thought I was going to be the messy one,” he said, lifting his finger to swipe away the flour and dust it off his finger. “I can do eggs for sure, I know eggs,” he replied, moving to the fridge and pulling out the eggs. 

“Birch!” she protested with a laugh when he added extra chocolate to the mix.  Honestly, Oakley didn’t care how the cupcakes turned out anymore.  All she wanted was to spend time with him.  When they were together everything felt a little better.  She didn’t want to give that up.

“I don’t know though.  I mean, you’re sweet enough,” she teased him with a smile.  He touched her and she practically held her breath, looking up into his eyes when he wiped the flour away.  “Thanks,” she murmured softly.  What else could she say?  Nothing that wouldn’t ruin what they had.

Her gaze tracked him as he moved to get the eggs before measuring out the baking powder and the baking soda.  She added those to the bowl and watched him.  “I hope these cupcakes aren’t too sweet or too chocolate for you,” she teased.  “But I can make you some new ones if they are.”

At Oakley’s laugh, Birch found his smile growing even more. She had a beautiful laugh. One he wanted to make sure he heard everyday. Oakley seemed to like his jokes and sense of humour, so it wouldn’t be too tough, but it would be something he would strive for, even to just make up for his heart not being able to be whole without being with Oakley. “I’m sure whatever we make will be delicious because you’ll be directing me. If you let me go off on my own, I might have to make sure I didn’t poison it.” 

“Yes, chef!” he called, moving to the cupboard to pull down the sugar and grabbing a measuring cup from the little army that Oakley had pulled together. Birch looked down at the recipe card on the table and measured out the amount of sugar, adding a little more than necessary. “Cupcakes should be sweet, like us,” he added, laughing. 

Birch set aside his bowl of sugar, looking at Oakley for more instructions (and maybe just to admire a little more). “I love chocolate. I’ve got such a sweet tooth. If I could have dessert with every meal, I would.” 

“You wouldn’t poison it,” Oakley protested with a laugh.  Even if he screwed up the recipe she knew he wouldn’t poison it.  He’d never do something like that to her.  That was something she could take on faith.  He wouldn’t betray her like that, even if it was an accident.

While he got everything out she asked for, Oakley measured out the flour into the bowl, laughing when he added the extra sugar.  “You aren’t wrong, but they’re sweet enough without the extra sugar,” she laughed, playfully nudging him with her elbow.  Oakley stepped away then to grab the cocoa powder before returning to her spot at his side.  She looked up at him, her eyes sparkling as she opened the cocoa powder.

“So if you like chocolate and have a sweet tooth we can do something about that.”  She measured out the cocoa powder and added it to the bowl of sugar and flour.  “Don’t tell me we need to add extra of this too,” she laughed.  Lifting her hand to brush a lock of hair back from her face, she got a little flour on her forehead.  “So do you want to measure out the baking powder and baking soda or get the eggs?”

“It’s fine.” She’d been dealing with her tribute’s disappearing act since they’d been on the train. At this point she was beginning to think it might be good to stop advising all together. Maybe it would be enough just to give them some comfort in their last days. 

“Smarter too,” she added. “I remember your games. That career was about as cocky as they come.” That had been a decade ago during the hardest period of her life, but she remembered seeing the tribute on the screen. She remembered Birch doing most of the leg work when her victory tour came round. “This crop I’m not so sure of though.”

Oakley smiled a little.  “Yeah, he wasn’t great.”  She didn’t like to dwell on it.  He was one of the few lives Oakley took during her time in the arena, but he also wasn’t the ghost that haunted her the most.  “But a lot of careers are like that, I’ve noticed.”

She glanced at the rest of the training center, watching the tributes move around.  “Me either, honestly.  Mine have been doing the skittish and hiding thing too.  I mean, if they can pull off hiding in the arena that’s one thing but...”  She shook her head.  “Hopefully you can get your tributes to figure out what they want.”

Her tributes stuttered out a small “y-y-yes ma’am’ and then an even quieter ‘excuse me’ before hurrying off toward the changing rooms. Sable sighed as she watched them going, knowing that they were as skittish as a foal and probably scared simply by the other’s presence. Such hypersensitivity could be useful but also damning. 

“And they’re gone again,” she muttered. “Sorry about that. I don’t have very talkative tributes this year. That’s good advice.”

Oakley watched the tributes and sighed.  “I’m sorry I scared them off,” she apologized sincerely.  Skittish and scared tributes were something she had a lot of experience with.  Outside of Nadya, it had been a long time since District Eight had a tribute make it past the bloodbath.

She shrugged one shoulder.  “Figured it was.  I don’t think I’d be here if I couldn’t have been faster than a career.”  Absentmindedly her finger brushed along the scar on her forearm from the District One boy’s sword.  “I didn’t mean to interrupt your training.”

He grinned at her answer, his heart lighter that she had said that. Birch couldn’t disappoint her and he never wanted to. He hoped that nothing he had done had made her feel like she wasn’t his best friend, one of the most important people in his life - if not the most. He knew that he had let her down the past fall when he was on the Birchelor, but he was happy that she had been so kind to forgive him. 

“Cupcakes?! I am so in. Although, I might make more of a mess than you would like in this kitchen,” he admitted, closing the cupboard behind him. “Barely anything. I’ve watched my brother Ember and my mom bake several different times, mostly relegated to licker of the bowls and taste-tester.” 

He flashed a grin at her and watched her measure out the flour into a bowl. “What can I do? I’ll tell you I might mess it up, but I will do it with a smile on my face.” 

It was impossible for Oakley not to laugh.  There was just something about Birch that made her happy like that.  It brought a smile to her lips and she felt so at ease with him.  Maybe it was wrong to even think that way.  “Well you can lick the bowl and taste test if you want, but first we’ve got to make something worth tasting.”

“Do you want to measure out the sugar while I measure the flour?”  Even if he was more prone to making a mess, Oakley couldn’t bring herself to care.  She wanted to be there with Birch while they figured this out together.  She wanted to spend time with him even when it made her heart ache because at the end of the day, Oakley wanted to keep their friendship and protect his family, even if it meant suffering silently.

She started measuring out the flour into a bowl.  “You do like chocolate, right?”

Something possessed Birch to walk down the couple flights of stairs to the Eighth floor. He wished he was comfortable just sitting on the Tenth floor and going over Reapings or sponsor paperwork, but it still felt like there were ghosts on his floor. Sometimes they would leave him alone and let him be, but other times they would come for his memories and drag them to the surface. 

Birch needed someone to talk to and the first person to pop into his mind was Oakley. He didn’t know whether being close to Oakley whenever he could would help him deal with the feelings that he had been uncovering the past few months. He was assuming not and that it would just make his feelings stronger. But, he couldn’t fight the want to see her and talk to her like everything was normal. 

When he reached the Eighth floor he walked in to find Oakley bustling around the kitchen making something. And then she called him Cambric and he laughed, moving to the kitchen island to lean on. “I’m sorry to disappoint,” he teased. “I wanted some company and thought we could hang out. Sable and Vesper have the tributes for the afternoon and I want to procrastinate the things I have to do.” 

He walked over to the cupboard that Oakley was at and reached up to take the flour off the shelf. “Making something? Do you mind if I help?” he asked, handing her the flour.

The fact that he sought her out just so they could hang out both thrilled her and twisted her heart in knots.  Oakley knew she had to pretend everything was normal, like she wasn’t in love with him.  But how could she do that?  Maybe knowing Birch didn’t see her as anything more than a friend would make that easier.  Besides, she couldn’t deny how comfortable she felt around him.  It didn’t matter how much it made her heart ache.

“It’s not a disappointment,” Oakley explained with a reassuring smile.  “You could never disappoint me.”  She meant it.  Birch was one of the few people who had always been there for her, always helping her, always making her feel special.  He got the flour down for her and she smiled.  “Well, I was making cupcakes.  You’re welcome to help me if you want.”

It was harmless, really.  If she could make it through this then she could make it through anything.  “How much do you know about baking?” she asked while getting the measuring cups out to start measuring flour into a bowl.

@ttwstarters

“You see that,” Sable leaned close to her tribute, pointing out the district one tribute currently sparring on the mats. “All brute. No speed.”

She was no trained fighter but twenty years in the capitol meant she’d learned a thing or two about going up against a trained killer. No one was without a weakness, and that meant opportunity. “If you find yourself in his sights just don’t stop moving. You can run a lot faster than he can swing.”

Oakley moved her wheelchair closer as she heard Sable advising the tribute.  It was solid advice, but she also knew there were times when purely trying to run away wasn’t going to work.  “And if you can’t run you can still use your speed to an advantage,” she added.  “Careers are big and slow.”  After all, Oakley had managed to survive a fight with the District One boy in her Games because she was fast enough.  It could be done.

It took her a moment to notice the woman was holding a harness on a dog for support, seemingly having some trouble standing upright. Maybe she wasn’t really the best person to be asking her inquiry. “Oh,” she replied, reaching up to rub at the back of her neck, “Sorry, I didn’t see…” she cleared her throat and nodded, “Fair enough.”

Ashten knew most of the other Mentors were focused on their own kids, wondering if she was just on her way to find her own Tributes. “Didn’t mean to keep you from going… where you were going.”

Oakley shook her head.  “It’s fine,” she assured her.  It stopped bothering her a long time ago that people made assumptions about her.  “It’s just...life after the Games.”

A heavy sigh passed her lips and she smiled at her.  “Oh, I was just going to go sit for a bit.  I was doing first aid with some tributes and now I need to change it up.”  Maybe shelter making or cooking would be a good place to go next.

“Oh, did you have bad dreams or just one of those nights?” Aspen asked gently hoping she wasn’t overstepping by asking. If she had learned anything in her time in the Capitol, it was that there were topics and questions you asked and some you didn’t. However, she counted Oakley as a friend and friends were supposed to ask things like that. If there was something she could do to help, she would.

Aspen nodded. “I feel you on that. I have no idea where to even start with training.” She admitted softly. There really hadn’t been anyone to help her when she was a tribute considering how old District Nine’s last Victor had been. Luckily for Aspen, other mentors such as Marina and Birch had taken pity on her and assisted her during her training. “But Cambric can do this part for you, right? I am sure you’re great with sponsors and all that other stuff.” There were many facets to this mentoring thing she was finding.

“Though if you get some time, we should work on art at some point. I got a new set of watercolors I’d like to try. I’ve never worked with them before.”

Aspen’s concern was sweet.  Oakley was grateful she had a friend like that.  “No nightmares last night....I just had a lot on my mind.”  There was a small part of her that wanted to tell Aspen about it, but the girl was young and had enough of her own problems.  She didn’t need to know about Oakley’s crush too.  Not when Birch’s family was on the line.

“Cambric can do a lot of it,” she agreed, “but I don’t want to leave it all to him.  He doesn’t deserve that.  I usually help with first aid, cooking, and some of the other basic survival skills.”  She could handle sponsors too, but sponsors didn’t like the reminder that the arena caused her permanent disability.  It was too real for them.

“Ooh! I’d love that.  Watercolors are really fun but they are temperamental.  They take a lot of practice, but I’ll help you get the hang of them.”