d i s g r a c e d ;

Rhys and Valor had been together for twenty plus years, but this was their eighteenth wedding anniversary. With everything that had happened earlier with the rebels and the whirlwind of chaos, Rhys wanted to do something nice for Valor. To go out of his way to do something extra special for his husband to show that he was taking his promise to him seriously. And he had been making that effort back home, being more attentive to Valor and affectionate with him. 

For their anniversary, Rhys wanted to have a day for just the two of them. They had gone out together for most of the day, doing all sorts of different things together. He had offered up a few suggestions for them, but let Valor pick or decide on a few things while he picked out a few things, balancing out their day to do whatever they wanted. It was nice, a good change of pace from a month prior. 

While Valor was a fan of the cold, Rhys wasn’t. Even when winter came through District Three, it was cold and bitter and he hated it. The one thing it provided was an excuse for him to push up against Valor’s side for warmth. Valor’s arm was already around his waist, pulling him to his side. Rhys had his arm around Valor’s back, a smile stuck on his face as they walked side by side through the park. 

“I think so, too,” he agreed, leaning up to press a kiss along Valor’s jawline. “Happy anniversary, baby.”

The extra weight that Rhys put into his side made Valor chuckle softly, putting his arm around his waist tighter and holding him there, rubbing up and down his side. The park was nice even then. They were probably genetically altered trees so some of them didn’t have any of their leaves fallen while others did. Still, Valor enjoyed the outdoors. It had always been in his blood and he couldn’t imagine it any other way, even though Rhys clearly didn’t enjoy it as much as he did with how much he was shivering underneath his jacket. 

The kiss on the jaw and the well wishes of their anniversary made Valor smile as he leaned into him, happiest for the first time in a long, long time. He turned his head, looking at his loving husband with all of the adoration in the world. “Happy anniversary, honey.” 

Hudson’s features furrowed into an expression of doubt. Sure, everything had seemed to settle for the moment, but he didn’t imagine the rebels sitting on their plans for much longer. He wouldn’t be surprised if things were to escalate again by the time the school year came to a close. He even suspected they would have to begin truly picking sides soon as well; not a half-ass commitment to either cause, but a real blood pact. And that would certainly threaten the stability of their family. He didn’t express his skepticism. It wouldn’t have done them any good right then to get tangled into another dispute over what was safest for the family. All he knew was that there was more to be seen, and something in his stomach was certain that he wouldn’t have to linger around for another century to witness it.

Letting out an exaggerated sigh of relief, Hudson leaned back against his bed frame. “Thank god, I thought I was the only one. That would’ve been embarrassing.” He didn’t think he was all that, truthfully. He maintained a level of humbleness and perhaps a hint of self-deprecation, but that was expected of him at his age. “Soon. Just you wait. If you think I’m running circles around you now, just. You. Wait.”

Valor wanted to get out of the more strenuous part of the conversation as fast as he could. He was still recovering, so he didn’t need to pull himself further into his own mind and make himself upset again. So when Hudson gladly changed the subject and started to make chokes, Valor happily laughed along with him. He gave him a pointed look, a smile spreading across his lips.

“Oh yeah? You think so, huh?” Valor said. “If you’re this easy to knock down, then I think I might still be alright in my old age, kiddo. Clumsy like your Pop.”

He sighed a little as he looked at his boy, glad that he had in him in his life. It was those moments where he reminisced on the past that made him feel like time was going by too fast. Hudson was an infant it felt like yesterday, and now he was a teenager and approaching adulthood fast. For Valor to look at his boy and know that he was there, that he existed, that was an accomplishment. There was a time in Valor’s life that he never thought he’d have children of his own, let alone blood children. After all, he was a gay man that wanted to die. What normal person in that scenario would ever think they would be blessed with their own blood child?

Hudson found himself hesitating greatly. It wasn’t terribly often nowadays that he truly opened up with anyone about what he was feeling. His mad theories on rebellion, sure, but his emotions were a tougher subject to unravel. He twiddled his thumbs as to avoid eye contact. “I’m just trying to… Establish my place in all this. I know you and Pop say I’m too young for the sort of politics going on, but it’s hard to feel that way when war is at your front door.” he admitted. Listening intently, though choosing to ignore the discouragement of his own use of the word dick. He would most certainly continue to use it. Aside from that, Hudson paid attention, let his father’s words sink into him. “Sometimes I really wish I was Rosie’s age again too, honestly.” He let out a low chuckle. “Y-You don’t have to apologize… I think I’d do the same? It’s like when a puppy grows up and doesn’t need you to tell it where to pee anymore, right? Plus it’s not as cute… But I think I’m still sorta cute.”

“But it’s not,” Valor clarified. 

He didn’t want to think it was, anyway. With the Rebels beginning to show their faces, he could see why they would want to. But after the bombing, there was very little they could do in the next few months or even years that could redeem them for nearly killing some Victors and their families. At least it would be hard for Valor to forgive that action unless they proved they were worth the fight.

Then, Hudson began to speak and he sighed, smiling softly at him. It was easier when they were kids and they didn’t know any better. The terrifying part of Hudson growing up was that he was understanding what was happening. He may have grown up looking more and more like a brunette version of him, but he had his Pop’s brain. The body of One and the brain of Three. That was a wicked combination if you asked him.

He did his best not to pity Valor, though at times it did come as a challenge. There was much to admire in his father, but just as much to be wary of as well. All of which he found in himself, whether he could be proud of it or not was a game of dice, however it seemed more often than not he was confident. That must have meant something good for the both of them.

Hudson’s gaze fell wayward, similarly uncertain on how to respond. He didn’t blame his father for his illness or actions, it was all a convoluted tale of generational odds and genetics anyway. There was nothing to be reasonably angry towards. That might have also been one of the hardest parts at times, not having anything to place on his own frustrations without seeming like a total asshole teen.

“You don’t have to say sorry… You can’t help it.” said Hudson. He knew the last thing he would want, personally, would be to have been given a constant reminder of his actions. “I know. I’m sorry— I’m sorry for being sort of a dick… I guess I’m just… I don’t know…” He let out a small, exasperated sigh.

"What, son?” 

Valor found himself wanting to know exactly what Hudson was thinking. He didn’t want him to think that he had anything to do with how Valor’s condition was, but he also wanted him to be mindful of how he acted and the things he said. He didn’t want to think of his children in a negative way, and Rhys’s talk with him had him reorienting his thought pattern. It only got better once he started getting back on track with his medicine. Of course, he had to take them in front of his husband for a while to make sure that he was held accountable. 

Valor couldn’t believe it had been eighteen years since their wedding.

Granted, they had been together for over twenty-two years, but that wasn’t the date in mind. Four years of dating, one month of engagement, and then the next eighteen years of his life was spent with the man that he loved more than anything. 

Things had gotten easier. Far easier, if Valor was being honest. He could tell Rhys was trying to be more open and honest and include him in a lot more conversations. Rosie wasn’t being nearly as clingy toward Rhys has he had seen her before, even though it was obvious that she preferred Rhys. He didn’t mind that too much in the long run considering Hudson had an affinity toward him when he was her age. She’d grow out of it one day. 

Still, they decided that a day out with the two of them was necessary to celebrate their milestone. Two years until two decades and Valor was still processing that. They went out for lunch, talked for a while in one of the cafes the two of them frequented and enjoyed. Afterward, they went to see a movie in the later afternoon before they decided on going to dinner afterward, considering their lunch wasn’t that big. The ate the filling dinner before deciding that a snowy walk in the park was a good idea. 

Valor loved the cold. The summers were always dreadful for him as he had bad memories of warm weather and being driven to his limits by his father. The winter was always a little bit more of an easier time for him. So they took a walk around the park trail as other people seemed to have the same thing. It was bitter, but the two of them were bundled up as well as anybody else who passed them. Valor slipped his arm around Rhys’s waist to hold him close as they walked in step with one another. 

Carina pulled her lip between her teeth thoughtfully, weighing up her options. He could probably beat her to the door. His legs were longer, for a start. But did she feel like enduring a good-natured, fatherly check-in session was the thing.

“Race you,” she dared, already turning and running for the door, half hoping that he would get there first so that she had an excuse to let him in. Her house was big and empty. It got lonely sometimes, and she only felt it more acutely when she was depressed. Accepting help, however, was not something that came easily to her, no matter how much she might need it.

Valor waited patiently, but as always, he was on his toes. Even though he feared one day going back to the boy who killed three people, who was trained to be a strategist, to be faster than everyone else, to be quiet and lethal. He never wanted that again, but at least he can bring out the better parts of his more dangerous nature that he attempted to bury.

Carina dared him, as he had a feeling she would, and without hesitation, he took off toward the back door. He was forty-six-years-old and he still had speed on his side as he hadn’t let up on working out or taking care of his body in his older age. He certainly wasn’t the fifteen year old boy anymore, but in several quick bursts, he slid to a halt in front of her door as she nearly collided into his chest. He caught a hold of her arms as she was about to, smirking down at her. Valor laughed. 

Rhys had always been worried about Hudson and Rosie going into The Games. Even with the failsafe they had for Hudson, he still wondered when the rug would be ripped out from under them and he would still end up in The Games, anyway. To have Valor mentor their son and have to watch him struggle through The Games to survive. To have to help him on the other side as a Victor, or worse… And there was still Rosie. They couldn’t even put her in District One like they could with Hudson. She would be a District Three kid, left entirely up to chance based on whether her name would be pulled from the Reaping bowl or not. The only thing in her favor was not having to take tesserae each year and add her name in the bowl more than once.

Not to mention his own personal experience in his Arena. Of having to be a mentor and sending kids into the Arena year after year, ripping apart families and having a hand in watching someone’s son or daughter, brother or sister, boyfriend or girlfriend– someone’s best friend die in the Arena and potentially ruin their lives with the death of their loved one. Or to have them emerge as a Victor and have to help them deal with the trauma of their Games. It had been so many years for Rhys and he still had nightmares of his own Games. Valor, too. Ultimately, there were no winners of The Games in the end.

And he knew Valor understood that, and would do anything he could to make sure their family was safe. He meant so much more than he knew to Rhys, to the kids– Rhys just wished he could see it. But with the demons that plagued Valor’s mind, it wasn’t as easy as that. Not with everything he had gone through in life and what he still dealt with to this day. But he was still right, Rhys knew it as much as he had hoped this would have been their chance. If The rebels had been so willing to attack The Capitol, even if it meant the Victors getting caught in the crossfire, they didn’t have their best interests in mind. They would have to prove otherwise for any of The Victors to lend an ear to their cause now.

He remained silent while Valor spoke, fingers trailing along Valor’s jawline and down his neck, smoothing around to the back of his head to gently scratch his fingers through the shorter hairs along his hairline. But at his question, Rhys shook his head, dropping his gaze in thought to try again.

“It’s not so much what you do, baby,” he murmured softly, “you do everything you can to help Hudson and Rosie because you love them. That’s never been a question, never been anything to doubt. You adore those two and they love you, too. Even in their terrible twos or through their teenage years. If you weren’t here… I don’t think we would be able to keep ourselves together. I know I wouldn’t.”

It had been why Rhys had felt compelled to confess his love for Valor all those years ago, when he had confided in Rhys of the darkness swirling in his mind. Rhys couldn’t fathom the idea of a life without Valor in it, even to this day. After all of the years they had been married, he couldn’t bring himself to even consider it. It had always been him and Valor, and as far as he was concerned, that was what it always would be.

Rhys gave the hand on his chest a squeeze, letting Valor keep his palm pressed right in the middle of his chest. He was quiet a moment, still so the only thing Valor could feel was the beating of his heart under his palm. “This is yours,” he whispered softly, “and you’ve taken such good care of it, of all of us. I wouldn’t trust anyone else with this but you. If you were gone, I’d be lost.” Again, he felt his throat close up, blinking away the tears that blurred in his vision from his confession. “You’re my home, Valor Rosier-Archer. You’re everything.”

Valor wanted to think that he held a much more valuable position in their family. He had been the youngest of three in his family that he grew up in, having a better relationship with his older sister than he did with his brother. His father only wanted him for glory and nothing more. It wasn’t until much later that he had gotten a better relationship with his mother. Through all of his worst times, Valor never thought to contact her in fear that she would get caught by their father and things would get much worse for the old woman. Still, Valor had wished in moments of clarity that he had the option to call and talk to his mother about these things. After all, Valor felt like he had no one else other than his husband and his children, and the last thing he’d do was talk to his children about what bothered him.

Still, he could feel and see the remorse in Rhys’s demeanor. As he slowly looked up and angled his head more to look at him, Valor could feel the discomfort radiating from his husband. Perhaps the statement had been a little too much, as Valor had always feared his illness could sometimes get, so he angled his head so his cheek was against the edge of Rhys’s shoulder, his body feeling heavier.

Until the other man spoke and tried to reason his words. Valor blinked a couple of times, feeling the burn return to his eyes as if he were to start crying again. He could tell that Rhys was remorseful, because he had known him for so long that he could tell the signs in his husband. He closed his eyes for a moment, Valor’s lower lip trembling as the words sank in. Rhys cupped the back of his hand and pressed it into his chest, as if to silently send him a message that Valor should have known all along and had forgotten. 

This is yours, he said. and you’ve taken such good care of it.

Valor wanted to think, what about his own heart? It wasn’t being taken care of, but in a way, it was now. Rhys was trying to put it on the mend. It was his attempt at trying when he had fallen out of touch with their relationship. Valor took a shaken breath as he met Rhys’s eyes, his words sinking in deep and staying there, sticking hard in the recesses of his mind to where Valor could only hope they remained. 

Valor couldn’t say anything after that. He arched his head up to look at Rhys more, seeing the way his eyes glossed and a stray tear left them. He didn’t ever want to see the other man cry. It felt like he was losing a battle when it happened like that. No matter how heartbroken Valor got, he never wanted Rhys to ever feel like he was less than what he was. He was the man who saved his life. He was the second father to his children. He was his husband. He was the love of his life. His home. His everything. 

His every word mattered too. He would be reminded of this with Valor’s lecture, which wasn’t undeserved, though Hudson would attest to its absolute necessity while he was clearly irritated by his wound. Nonetheless, it was sort of warranted, and it would do neither of them any better to object, so he nodded along and tapped his pencil impatiently on his essay paper.

“I won’t do it again.” he muttered, promising. “And I know to take it seriously. I know about… Our family’s… Issue.” ‘Issue’ was an understatement, frankly however he wasn’t sure how to describe it. It was a package deal it seemed, a mix-and-match bag of mood disorders every other generation.

Hudson repressed a wince when the wrap was secured, the tug giving a final shot of pain up his shin before it settled at last. “That’s good. Thanks, dad.”

Issue. That was definitely a word for it. It wasn’t something that was brought on by the Archer part of his blood, but inherently Valor’s. He didn’t want it to be a problem and that was something they always feared, but it seemed like the best way to have a biological child of their own, a mix of the two of them. Even though Hudson’s biological mother was Del, it didn’t matter. The Rosier bloodline was the one that Valor feared the most. His father, Hudson’s grandfather, was still alive in District One, the mayor of the District and continuously out to seek as much glory as he could to appease the Capitol. Hudson was in danger no matter what happened, and just by association, Rosie was, too. 

Depression, however, was the silent enemy and Valor knew that.

Valor stayed quiet, unsure of how to breach yet another uncomfortable subject with his son. He didn’t know how to tell his fourteen-year-old that he had been dealing with a lot while also not trying to pin anything on him. It was the constant pull and tug of being a parent. So he looked up at Hudson, nodding his head and taking a deep breath, putting his hand on his boy’s knee. 

Hudson had never known the full extent as to what his father suffered from. He knew good and well that Valor experienced intense depression, but the sensitive nature of the subject could sometimes leave his mind. It’s not as if it was a topic he frequently dwelt over, though perhaps it should’ve been a thing he kept in his pocket of things to not jest about. 

Growing rigid, his eyes fell into his lap and he began to scribble down nonsensical words on the margins of his notebook. It came to him their biological status. It wasn’t often that he worried about his own mental health, since all his fourteen years he’s been given a bill of wellness every time he attended a check up. But it was a lingering possibility nevertheless. It always would be. 

And perhaps it should have kept him on his toes, more aware of the throwaway lines he so frequently partook in at the sake of others.

A dry gulp enveloped his throat as he gave a curt nod. “Sorry,” he said, his voice clipped. Suddenly the rushes of pain in his ankle began to transfer to his chest, surges of shame impacting him. “I didn’t mean it. I-I’d never mean it.”

Valor’s heart was jackhammering in his chest, to which he was suddenly aware that it could alert Rhys if he was paying attention. So he took a deep breath in through his nose and slowly out through his mouth to calm himself down. It was a sudden jolt of panic that surged through him and he needed to remember that it was only his child saying this. However, it would never be something he could joke about with him. It was a real possibility of his genetics throttling Hudson one day and he hoped that it was one of the things he never received. 

Valor listened to his apology and his offering of reasoning, to which Valor shook his head, making sure Hudson knew that he was serious about it. He wasn’t sure what was happening with him or if the pain was making him moody, but there were things that he couldn’t do or say. He was sure that something like that wouldn’t fly with Rhys either. He had been the person to find him the second time Valor attempted suicide, and when Valor was about to linger into the third time, he went to Rhys for help. They both knew what it was like to deal with Valor’s depression and suicidal thoughts. The last thing he wanted to hear was Hudson joking about them. 

“Hud,” Valor said with a low voice. “If you ever feel like that for real, I want you to come to me and Pop seriously, okay? Don’t joke about these things. The last thing I want to see is that you were feeling like that and you never took it seriously. I’ve dealt with this illness since I was your age. So please, take it seriously and don’t joke about these things.” 

He pressed his lips together, muffling any further remarks as to keep himself from being grounded. He couldn’t imagine being stuck in his room 24/7 during times like these. It was the literal definition of torture to him. He needed to be out in the action, observing, taking notes, absorbing every new thread of information. He — okay, he was getting a bit carried away. The sharp pangs that emanated from his ankle would soon draw him back into the interaction at hand.

Suddenly, his eyes began to sparkle at the mention of pain pills. He was too occupied scarfing down half a bag of chocolate to even remotely consider requesting anything to soothe his ankle. Then again, for a while he assumed the only thing that could come close to curing the pain would be something along the lines of morphling. 

“Yeah, that’d be great…” admitted Hudson. His expression softened, his tensed shoulders beginning to unroll, and his arms slipping out from their crossed position over his chest. The wrap that braced his foot alleviated some stress in his mangled muscles, thankfully. “Speaking of, I’ll take a whole bottle.”

Valor could see his son was in a little bit of pain. The ankle was bad, but not bad enough to warrant a hospital visit. It was something Valor could take care of on his own with a little bit of attention. He might have to keep it elevated and stay off of it for a week or more, but he wasn’t ready to tell that to his always active boy. The child always had something going on, whether his own adventures or running around in preparation for the next race. It was still a necessary evil, as he was prepared to explain.

Except when Hudson agreed to the painkiller, but then added that he would take the whole bottle. 

If it had been anything else, any other time maybe, Valor would have seen that as the joke it was probably intended to be. However, considering his endless battle with his depression and having used an overdose on pills in his youth in an attempt to end his life, that made a jolt of panic and shock hit him in the chest as it triggered him. It also played into his concerns of Hudson as his biological son that he would also inherit the nastiness of his genetics -- including his depression. His hands stopped working on the bandage and he immediately looked up at his son, his blue eyes intense as he stared him.

He kept his gaze locked with Valor’s, listening intently. Though what he told Rhys made him feel worse about what he had done than before. To think that he would have forgotten Valor or forgot to look after his husband shattered his heart. He wondered, with Valor’s hand on his chest, if he felt his heart break. While he had the best intentions for wanting to act and reach out to the rebels at first, Rhys knew he was also pouring a lot of his focus into how to approach them without drawing further attention to themselves, to start offering his help and make a change to protect his family. 

Valor continued, explaining his stance when it came to the family, or seemingly lack there of. Feeling lost in his own home, to his own family, was terrible. Because Rhys had been there before. His father never liked him from the start, his mother disowned him shortly after his own Games. All he had was Del for the longest time. But at least Rhys was in the Victor’s Village and wasn’t stuck under the same roof as his parents. Valor was on the outside looking in and he had to face that reminder every single day.

“You’ve done so much to help keep this family together,” he murmured, “if you hadn’t been there for me all those years ago, we wouldn’t even have Hudson or Rosie to begin with. And you’re so good with them both, you are. You help Hudson with track and you’re there for Rosie just as much as I am. You mean so much more to this family than you think, Valor.”

He shifted to let Valor scoot closer and Rhys closed his eyes for a moment. Just feeling their foreheads pressed together. He moved his hand up to rest against the top of Valor’s on his chest, fingers lacing together. “All I wanted was to try and help make a change in this world to keep us all safe. Because the way things are now, with The Games and the Capitol always being a threat to us, to our kids– I thought this was our chance. It’s been ninety-six years since The Games started, that this country’s been living through its people losing their sons and daughters, brothers and sisters… and I don’t… I don’t want to lose Hudson or Rosie, Valor. Not like that. I’ve seen what it does to families, Valor. I know you have, too.”

Rhys’ throat closed up, forcing him to draw in a shaky breath. “And you all mean the world to me. If anything happened to you, and I felt like I just sat back and let it happen, or.. or had any part in it? I’d never forgive myself.”

Valor laid in silence for a long while, letting his husband’s words float through his ears and stay there, rattling around in his brain. He understood his stance and why he did it, but he didn’t agree with the people he was supporting, if they were even on their side to begin with, or if they were trying to cause unceremonious chaos. He agreed that he never wanted to see what it was like to lose one of his children to the Hunger Games. It was why Hudson was registered in District One. He had to be chosen by the Academy and it was hard to manipulate a panel like that, when there were plenty of kids in the District who wanted their hand in glory. He wasn’t expecting Hudson to become a tribute. Rosie, on the other hand, was a valid concern. Because of her District of adoption, they couldn’t change her District to One from Three. 

If there was any concern, it would be Rosie. 

Rhys attempted to soothe his concerns with what he did with his family, but what use was he when all he could do as teach his son how to run and fight and comfort Rosie the same way Rhys could? It didn’t seem like he was offering much, if anything. It made his eyes a little sadder at the thought, but he said nothing to it. At least not yet. Valor felt the need to be of use, to be of worth, when his entire childhood had been nothing but his father pushing him to his limits, training him to be a lethal killer at fifteen, only to cast him aside for a moment of weakness. To make the rest of the District loathe that he even represented them. He was a forgotten man even then, in the shadow of the girls he helped get through the Games.

“I have,” Valor mumbled. “but not like this, Rhys. Not when the price is too high. Whoever these people are... they don’t have our best interests in mind. That isn’t something you should align yourself with, no matter how desperate we become.” 

He said nothing more as he kept his head against his husband’s. While sleep had finally made him feel a little better, there was still his own worst enemy that hadn’t been tamed in over a week, which Valor had unintentionally allowed it to speak on his behalf.

He remained still in the bed, not wanting to move and force Valor to get up if he didn’t want to. His head had been resting against Rhys’ shoulder, though not to the point of bringing any discomfort. The sling was only meant to be on for a few more days, mostly just to be safe as opposed to being a requirement. Rhys kept his gaze lowered, not quite meeting Valor’s, but keeping silent while he waited for a response.

Instead of a yes or no, though, he got an apology. 

Rhys’ heart sank, head shaking as he reached up to gently rake his fingers through his husband’s hair, just at the base of his neck. “No honey, no,” he whispered, his other hand up to cup Valor’s cheek in his palm. Finally, he met Valor’s gaze again, brow knit with concern. “That was not your fault. I’m the one that should be apologizing.”

His thumb smoothed over Valor’s cheek, swallowing the lump that gathered in his throat before he continued, “You needed me and I wasn’t there for you. You were hurting and being left out and I wasn’t seeing it. I was distracted. Caught up in everything that was going on, and with the rebels…” He shook his head more so at himself than at anything in particular. “I let you down. And I shouldn’t have. I made you feel like something else was more important than you… and I know ‘sorry’ isn’t going to make it all better. But I want to do better by you. You’re always, always number one for me. I love you so much, Valor. I don’t ever want you to feel that way again, especially because of me.”

Valor laid completely still as Rhys began to speak. He didn’t want to look at him in fear of what he might do. He was all out of tears at this point. While he felt a little better after sleeping, his pill regimen was still out of sorts and he wasn’t feeling the best mentally. He had been doing so well for so long only to fall off the wagon because of these people who thought they were rebels. Valor hated them more than he hated the Capitol at this point, because in his own mind, they were compromising his marriage and his family far more than the Capitol was. 

For Valor Rosier to side with the Capitol on anything was rather shocking to begin with.

Still, Valor couldn’t hold his gaze away from his husband for long as they slowly lifted to meet his. His hand was gently stroking his cheek, giving him all the more reason to look at him as he tried to explain himself. Valor’s heart twisted in his chest, his throat burning and his eyes feeling too big for his skull.

“You didn’t let me down,” Valor said with a soft tone, swallowing his own lump in his throat as his hand smoothed up his chest to gently rub across the area where he could feel his heart beating -- a gesture they used to do to each other before they were married, thus what sparked the idea for their wedding rings. “I think you just…”

He paused. No matter what he said here, he was going to sound like an asshole, but if he was to get this righted, he needed to be honest with how Rhys had made him feel. “...forgot.” He let his head lob onto his husband’s arm, looking at him more as he blinked awake. “The kids… Rosie is her own person and I get that. She’s in that stage. It’s just… I feel like Hudson’s pulling away from me, too. I don’t know what I provide to this family or to the people around me of worth when all it takes is a few bumps in the road to put me in the dirt, and that’s on me.” 

“We came in here around… nine this morning?” he thought he had glanced at the clock on the stove when he had gone down to check on Hudson and Rosie, but that morning had been a flurry of being all over the place. Rhys kept his voice quiet, calm even as he tried to think back to that morning, pushing through all the negativity swirling in his brain.

“It’s almost ten at night,” he added, letting his fingers glide down to Valor’s jawline while he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “I’ve been back and forth checking on the kids and coming back here. I put Rosie to bed a couple hours ago.”

Ever since they got her princess costume, Rosie had been awfully eager to show it off. Rhys had to tell her three or four times she had to wait until Halloween to get to wear it and each time she tried to argue with him, it took a lot for him not to snap back at her. Usually he was very patient with both of the kids, but that day, Rosie had been testing his limits, and it was more than just the costume. He almost heaved a sigh of relief when she had gone to sleep. Hopefully tomorrow would be kinder to all of them.

Rhys kept his gaze on Valor, leaning his head further against his pillow. Valor still looked tired, and in the dark of the room his eyes still appeared then stormy blue as opposed to the bright, vibrant hue he was used to seeing. Rhys’ heart sunk in his chest and the smile faltered on his face.

“You wanna get up?” he asked, dropping his gaze before the sorrow bled through.

If it were any other day, he would have been horrified that he had let time slip by that quickly. Except he wasn’t surprised, nor was he shocked. He hadn’t gotten much sleep for over a week and his body was ready to fall apart at the seams. As the events of several hours ago came back to him, Valor’s body grew heavier. His mind was still slightly hazy from waking up, but the longer he lay there in his husband’s arms, even as he presented that question if he wanted to get up or not, he remembered the fight that they had.

Explosive, tearful, pleading. Even though it had been Valor at his worst, feeling as though he were being kept in the dark and at a distance, he still felt horrible regret for ever letting it get that bad. As much as Valor felt that Rhys had kept him at arm’s length and wasn’t being attentive to what he needed, that didn’t mean that Valor had to express it in the way that he did. The question hung in the air for a long moment as he laid against the bed, his head somewhat against Rhys’s shoulder. He knew he should get up, but there was another heaviness that kept him pinned there, one that he was far too familiar with and that he had to fight against for the last several weeks.

He held onto Valor and laid with him for a couple of hours, hand smoothing over his back in random shapes and patterns. Before he could fall asleep with him, though, Rosie had been on the search for her dads and Rhys slipped out of Valor’s hold carefully to tend to her & Hudson. He had very briefly explained the situation to Hudson, that Dad was worn out and really needed the sleep, so Rhys would have appreciated it if he watched Rosie. If Hud had anywhere to be, there was always Delilah. 

Once the kids had their breakfast and had been settled back in, Rhys went right back to Valor’s side. He had still been sound asleep, at least from what he could tell from the steady pulsing of his wedding band. Rhys slid back into bed, arms wrapping around Valor and fingers carding through his short hair. His lips pressed to Valor’s forehead before he, too, fell asleep.

Rhys had woken up a few times while Valor had been out, checking on the kids periodically before going back to Valor. Anytime the heartbeat on his wedding ring picked up, Rhys was in that spare room to check on his husband. It had been much later in the afternoon and even then, Rhys was still with Valor. 

In the silence of the room, he had more time to mull over what Valor had told him. Guilt had settled like an anchor in his chest for not being as attentive to his husband’s mental health and basically letting him spiral until he crashed. Between the graffiti, the party in The Capitol, and then the explosion, neither of them had time to breathe. And while Rhys had an outlet in the rebellion, Valor had nothing.

The rebellion had been a whole other mess entirely. With the graffiti came the spark that he and a handful of the others had so desperately been looking for, their start of something bigger. Of a change in the last ninety-six years of The Games. But then it quickly spiraled out of control, and innocent people– the Victors, their families, and innocent Capitolites alike– had been victims of the fallout. Rhys was still recovering from his injuries, yet he was so keen on a fight he had been willing to overlook the very thing they had intended to fight The Capitol for. It really made him no better than the Sponsors and Gamemakers, the very people he loathed entirely.

His mind had continued to race through those thoughts on a relentlessly endless loop, not allowing himself an out or an ounce of forgiveness for his actions. He should have been there for Valor, his husband, and he failed him. He was supposed to be there for him and he wasn’t. He ended up getting hurt and even talking with Hudson about plans for the rebellion going forward, potentially putting him in danger as well. All for a maybe. Ignoring the larger risks and consequences. And he almost ignored the casualties of the explosion, the very thing that reflected his own Games that still haunted him all these years.

Unable to sleep anymore than he already had, Rhys just stayed with Valor, smoothing his hands over his back soothingly while his mind was on fire. When he had started to stir once more, Rhys paused and brought a hand to ghost his fingertips along the side of Valor’s face. When he would open his eyes again, Rhys greeted him with a small smile.

“Hi,” he whispered. “You’ve been out for most of the day.”

It felt like he had been out for seconds rather than hours. As soon as he was out, his whole body fell heavy on the bed and into his husband’s arms and the warmth they provided. If he had been in any sound mind, he would have understood that perhaps he had overreacted, but at the same time, he couldn’t help the way he felt. There had to be validity to his feelings and the method in which he felt isolated from his own family. With how much Rhys had apparently been involved with the Rebellion, getting his son involved, having people who apparently supported it too, that left Valor in the cold, distant from his own husband. 

The sleep wasn’t entirely peaceful. He would feel nightmares beginning to surge up, only to be quelled by some outside force that he wasn’t entirely aware of. Still, when he went to sleep sometime around nine in the morning, Valor found himself blinking his eyes open in the darkness of the room with the only source of light as a little lamp on the bedside. Valor sleepily blinked his eyes, his arms shifting a little as he took a deep breath, every muscle in his body stiff and achy from lying there for so long.

Then, Rhys’s voice penetrated his more alert mind.

Valor looked up, seeing Rhys laying there with him, arms around him, curled up with him as if this was their own bedroom. Valor tried to recollect what had happened, but it was starting to become a hazy puzzle that he was hard pressed to put back together. Only when Rhys’s fingertips ghosted his face did it slowly come back to Valor as his mind became more awake.

He felt Valor tense in his hold and for a moment, Rhys felt the panic trying to overtake him. Between Valor’s take on everything that had transpired and his own worries for his husband, Rhys was teetering on the edge of emotional collapse. But Valor had gripped o to him and held him, burying his face in Rhys’ neck and Rhys held him closer. They both were tired, worn down from everything that had happened. They both needed to rest, just a minute to breathe.

When Valor spoke again, it was a plea. Begging Rhys to just stop. Rebelling against The Capitol was for his family, to protect Hudson and Rosie from The Games and let them all live their lives without the underlying yet ever present threat of The Capitol. The Quarter Quell was only a few years away and who knew what would be in store for them all, knowing that the rebels were trying to reach out to The Victors so strongly.

But he knew there was also a selfish need to revolt. Otherwise he would have been more attentive to Valor’s needs. And Valor needed him now more than ever. He pressed another kiss to Valor’s temple, a hand running through his husband’s hair. “Okay,” he whispered quietly, “okay.”

He pulled back just enough to meet Valor’s gaze and cup his face in his hand. His thumb traced along his cheekbone and he nodded for further emphasis of his promise. The rebellion was important, but Valor needed to know Rhys had him, had his family, in his heart above all else.

Rhys glanced toward the bed in the spare room and then looked to his husband once more. “Let’s lay down, okay? Come on, baby.” He leaned in and kissed Valor’s lips, hand moving to Valor’s shoulder to start guiding him toward the bed. He let Valor go to the bed first, carefully shrugging off the sling and setting it on one of the nightstands. Then he joined Valor in bed, immediately scooting close to hold him more comfortably and with both arms around him. “I’ve got you.”

Valor could feel his skeleton vibrating with an intensity he wasn't used to. He hadn't felt this horrible since his early twenties when he was still fighting the throes of his depression, before Rhys had become a stable figure in his life and he got help for his condition. Still, as he stood in his husband's embrace, Valor felt as though he could collapse under his own weight from how weak his knees felt. 

Rhys whispered his agreement, to which Valor seemed to choke on his breath and cough once before he relaxed completely. At least he had that… for now.

Valor and Rhys parted and Valor couldn't even lift his hands to wipe his face off. He felt lifeless standing there with his husband, even as the other man's hand rubbed gently across his cheekbone. Valor sniffed and looked pitifully at Rhys, the storminess of his eyes more intense than before, but somehow it felt subdued as the sadness penetrated them. 

Rhys invited him to lay down, to which Valor didn't have the strength to fight him anymore. He moved toward the guest bed and sat down at first on it, feeling how firm it was from disuse before he fell back against the bed. At least it wasn't dusty thanks to deep cleans periodically, but it was still unfamiliar. It didn't matter, because as soon as he laid down, the weight of the world began to make his eyes heavy.