#ohsweeran

Sean always like to equate hospitals to a sort of hell. Lost souls wandered the halls-- weary, worn, and aimless as they fought the hardest battles they would ever have to endure. It was a burial ground for any sort of hopes and dreams that found their way into the place. People made it out, sure, but the sickness had this horrible habit of drawing out any sort of good left in a person. Suddenly their smiles weren't so bright, their laughter not as cheery. Something about the hospital left people empty.

Sean shuddered, pulling his hoodie tight against his skin. The cold air blasted through the vents, trying to freeze out any germs that would find their ways in, and keeping the patients in an eternal state of chattering teeth and goosebumps. There was no warm in a hospital. There was only cold.

"Morgan...?" He called out into the room, gripping the package in his hands.

Weary brown eyes opened to meet his blue ones. The exhaustion-ridden girl pushed herself up in the bed. "No." Sean jumped, putting his hand on her shoulder and laying her back down again. "You need rest..." He paused and moved his hand to her face, running his thumb across her cheek, taking notice of the goosebumps on her skin. "Chemo is a bitch." The eighteen year old remarked, earning an amused look.

A silence settled in around them, something not uncommon just days after another round of treatment. Sean moved silently through her room, opening the package and unfolding the gift he'd brought her.

She was only sixteen. With her name in there five times, no one thought it would be her who was picked. Of course, with the girl’s life marked with death already – a mother who died in childbirth, a father whose life was taken when he refused to attend the reaping despite being healthy, and a brother (John) who had already died in the games – the odds were clearly never truly in her favor.

“The District Five Female Tribute is…. Ella Crayton!”

Her name rang clearly over the crowd as her head bowed, her eyes shut tightly. Her mind was screaming no, her instincts urging her to run, but she knew that would only be a death sentence. She felt someone’s hand rough on her back, propelling her forward, and her feet took over. The crowd divided as she walked to accept her death, her chin high and her shoulders square. Though she had a moment of weakness, she would not have another. She would act as though this was an honor, not a death sentence.

“Congratulations!” The escort, an annoyingly high pitched woman – Sarah? Ella thought that was the woman’s name – whispered in her ear as she took her spot, a spotlight shining bright on her. She narrowed her eyes and searched the crowd for familiar faces, searching for the last family she had left – Stanley, her older brother only two years her elder. He would be in the roped off section with the other eighteen year old boys, and sure enough, there was his large frame, his shoulder square and chin raised as if he was mimicking her stance. She met his gaze and her lips twitched into a small smile; she could see the hurt of seeing another sibling going into the Games, but he had pride in her. She would be underestimated but she was strong, quick, and after John had been murdered in the bloodbath of the Games, she had secret training given to her by none other than Stanley. He believed in her, even if their other District neighbors were already planning her funeral.

“And the District Five Male Tribute is… Well, well, well,”

Ella looked to the escort – her name was definitely Sarah Hart, and she was wearing the most ridiculous get up with her hair shaped to look like a heart.. clever – when the woman hesitated, her eyebrows knitting together. The next words that came out of the woman’s mouth felt like a bullet to Ella’s brain, the air rushing out of her body all at once as she registered the meaning of the male tribute’s name. “Looks like we have a sibling rivalry here! Stanley Crayton!”

Ella would be fighting to the death against her own brother.

Her brother.

Stanley.

Her guardian, the one person she had left.

Stanley.

“NOOOO!!!!” The scream came out before she thought about it, the little blonde girl falling to her knees in front of all of Panem. She curled in on herself, hoping that this was just another one of her nightmares, that she had misheard the name – anyone but Stanley. She couldn’t lose him.

“Ella!” She heard his voice cut through the murmurs of the crowd, and her head lifted in time to see him push aside a guard and run up on the stage to her, his figure blurry from the tears streaking down her face but she could still without a doubt tell that it was him. He lifted her like she was made of nothing and she all but collapsed onto him, her façade broken by the threat of her brother’s life.

“Isn’t that just precious? I can already tell that we’re going to have an exciting Games ahead of us!” Sarah cheered, while the crown before her was silent. The Craytons were well known for being secluded, for Stanley’s temper and Ella’s sweet nature, and they  had no real enemies in their District. Most of them had been close friends or allies with their parents, or their brother John, and no one wanted to see the poor duo die. Sarah stammered over her words, and in an effort to wrap things up, began to speak once more. “This is certainly a duo to look out for. Ladies and gentlemen, the tributes of district five. Happy Hunger—“

“I volunteer.”

Somewhere through the sniffles as Ella cried on her brother’s shoulders, she heard those two life changing words. She lifted her head, her face still towards the audience, and saw as the entire crowd shifted to look at the blue-eyed boy who just spoke. He was standing tall and sure and Ella felt a small hint of pride go through her at the boy she didn’t even know, her eyes following him as he stepped out of his place and into the center of the field, strolling towards the stage like he offered his life every day. “I said I volunteer as tribute.”

Sarah hesitated, clearly not knowing what to do. Her eyes darted back and forth, once to Ella and Stanley, who had parted when the boy approached, and once to the strange boy. She seemed to make up her mind, a broad smile on her lips as she asked the boy his name.

“Adam Sutton.” He was on the stage then and Sarah was ushering a very confused Stanley off, and Ella was alone once more except for the two strangers. She used her sleeve to wipe off her face quickly, knowing that the cameras were still on her, that all of Panem was glued to their TVs. Her eyes were glued to Adam, the boy who single handedly saved her brother’s life, and with a shock of familiarity, she realized that she knew who he was. The Sutton boy from the orphanage that Ella had lived at before Stanley found work. They had never spoken, for he was popular and she was quiet, but there had been a night – no, now was not the time to think of it. Not while her life was on the line and he was the enemy.