#thif

He was always late these days. It was hard to bring himself to care, since usually, the only person he was disappointing was his shift manager. Even though he just started working at the district's only factory, it didn't pay well enough—nothing could be worth breathing in those fumes all day. So he still spent most mornings beyond 12's fence, hunting for whatever he could to fill his siblings' bellies.

Hunting was the only thing he had now. So he didn't mind mumbling out a couple of apologies to his boss for rolling in ten minutes late every day. He knew they needed workers desperately, so it wasn't like they could fire him.

But truth be told, hunting wasn't why he was late today. As Nolan trudged home to quickly change into his uniform, he struggled to find an excuse as to why he was coming back empty-handed. He couldn't even remember the last time he didn't bring a kill home. And it wasn't because he was a lousy shot, or because the snow had made his footsteps far too loud.

It was because he hadn't been to the woods at all today.

Nolan tried to drop the tension in his face before walking into the home he's always known. For years, it's only been him and his siblings here. He's not sure if he can really remember it being any other way. The door creaked as he entered, and to his usual disappointment, it was as cold in here as it was outside. From his small living room, he could see a small bundle of blankets sitting in front of their old TV set, right where he always found her.

"Hey, June-bug." Nolan knocked the snow from his shoes, hoping his little sister wouldn't turn to see him game-less. His uniform was already laid out for him on the table, and he gathered the clothes into a bundle. Thankfully, her head jutted out from the covers, but stayed glued to the screen.

"Shh, it's starting!" she whisper-yelled, leaning forward to turn up the volume. A laugh started to bubble in his chest—there wasn't anything that caught June's attention more than the television—but then he paused. Was that…?

Static made the TV blurry, but certainly it was you, huddled closely with… with him, of course. Your smile was tentative and small, and Nolan could only imagine the way your thoughts were racing. A Mettaton came on screen next, welcoming everyone to the first part of the Victory Tour.

"I didn't realize that was today…" he lied, earning himself another shush from his sister. Of course he remembered. He'd probably seen a couple hundred posters advertising it around 12. If there was one thing the Capitol wanted to ensure, it was that their propaganda was seen.

"Don't you have somewhere to be?" His sister's annoyance made him smile again. It was a school day today, but June caught a cold last night, so he insisted that she stay home. She was sickly as a newborn, and spent a lot of winter days covered in a thicket of blankets. This was the only time she ever got the TV to herself. "Preferably not here!"

Nolan rolled his eyes, but mentally, he wasn't complaining. It wasn't like he wanted to stick around to watch anyway. "Fine, fine. But scoot away from the screen, it'll rot your brain."

Her only answer was to turn up the volume again. He sighed and dipped into the bedroom—the one they all shared. A small, slightly broken clock on the wall told him he was already fifteen minutes late, which actually meant he was seventeen minutes late, and a new sense of urgency ran through him. Nolan tugged off his shirt, trying and failing to tune out your words:

'Well, life is great here in 12. I don't think I've ever been happier, thanks to the Capitol…'

He suppressed a scoff. Obviously, you were happy; you didn't live like this anymore. Your new life was on the other side of town, tucked away in a big house with your little boyfriend. You'll never be hungry again. You'll never have to worry again. Nolan couldn't ever relate to that.

Now, whenever he saw you, all he could think of was Capitol. How could he not, when you sat there on his screen, puppeting the words he's almost certain they told you to say? So he decided to keep his distance. Honestly, he's not even sure when the last time he spoke to you was. There were other things on his mind now.

After undoing his belt, his pants fell with a thud. Nolan swallowed the bitter taste in his mouth, pulling out the heavy satchel from his pocket and turning it in his hand. This was the real reason he was late today. He didn't know how exactly those monsters stole this gunpowder, but he wasn't really interested in asking questions. Probably from some human Royal Guardsmen.

He slipped on his uniform, then tucked the satchel away again. It was hard to believe today had come so quickly. But if they were going to make a statement, then it had to be at the start of the tour. He wanted the Capitol to get their message, loud and clear.

The sound of his sister giggling cut through his thoughts as he left the room. He opened his mouth to say goodbye, but the TV drew him in again.

Mettaton was flashing both of you a chrome-bright smile. 'It's really been so nice catching up,' he purred, his metallic voice cracking with the Capitol accent, 'The cameras still love you.'

'i don't know, they say the camera adds ten pounds.' The skeleton glanced down at himself, releasing your hand to pull at his coat. 'does my funny bone look big to you?'

Nolan tried not to grimace at the sound of your laugh, drowned out by his sister's own snort. Not because he was jealous, but because he hadn't heard the sound in so long. 'You look good,' you finally told him, fighting back a very obvious grin. He could feel your sincerity all the way through the screen.

'don't tell me any fibias, kid. i can tell when you're lying, y'know. can feel it in my bones.' The skeleton waggled his brow bone, and you rolled your eyes fondly, and he was struck with the knowledge that you had never looked at him like that before.

'Alright, one last question, then we're all out of here.' Despite his hand on the doorknob, Nolan stayed in place. Perhaps subconsciously, he just wanted to keep hearing your voice. 'Everyone watching at home is wondering the same thing: what does the future look like for you two?'

His sister glanced back at him, her light grey eyes wide. She was too perceptive for her own good, immediately catching the way his own breath hitched. 'The future?' You parroted on the screen.

'Well, yes!' Mettaton crossed and uncrossed his legs, oddly seeming stiff. 'Haven't you two talked about it?' We're all curious how you're going to make it official! A wedding? Or a soul bond, or—'

'We're not answering that. Or anything else today.' Your voice was suddenly stony, cold. You stood, the sound of your chair scraping caused your mic to screech. 'This interview's over,' you mumbled, then walked off screen, leaving your partner wide-socketed and confused.

After a moment of unending silence, Sans cleared his throat. 'well, you heard the kid. cut the cameras.' He motioned for the cameras to stop by swiping his hand across his throat, and the screen turned black. The broadcast was over.

Nolan swallowed thickly. Perhaps… perhaps he had judged you too harshly. Maybe you weren't the Capitol darling he was convinced you were. He was taken aback by his sudden urge to reach through the screen to try and comfort you.

It was quiet until his sister spoke again in a tentative voice, "…I don't get it. Why not just answer the question? Couldn't she get in trouble?"

The worry on her face was palpable—which made him wonder how worried June would look if she knew the trouble he was getting into. He sighed deeply, choosing his next words carefully as he approached his sister and crouched down next to her.

"There's some things…" he started, "that people want to keep to themselves. That they deserve to keep to themselves. We don't have the right to know everything about everyone." June nodded, proving that she was still following along. "But to the Capitol, that doesn't really matter. Anything and everything is content to those—" He paused, stopping himself from saying something too unsavory, then said, "people. It's not very fair, is it?"

She shook her head solemnly as she mulled over his words. But then, her eyes lit up. "Maybe we could give them something nice, for when they get ba—!" A hacking cough suddenly interrupted her, and Nolan ruffled her hair.

"You're too sweet, June-bug. Just like mom." It wasn't often that he brought her up, and his sister's eyes widened. "But you should get some rest first. I'm sure they'll be okay," he assured. "It's not like the Capitol is gonna hurt them."

Despite his usual pessimism, he really did believe that. After all, they already won the games.