Chuck shouldn't be here. It's all he can think about every waking hour and every other moment that's spent catching a few seconds of sleep. It's not often, because surviving is the other prominent thing on his mind, but he can't stop thinking about how unfair this is.
I shouldn't be here. I already did this. I'm a legacy. I'm a Victor. I won - why the fuck am I here, why do I have to murder again?
They're questions that remain unanswered and will stay unanswered for the foreseeable future - and hell, he may not even make it out of here so the energy put into these questions is best conserved for other purposes - like living as long as possible.
He's ended up with Raleigh Becket, an older victor than him, and he can't say that he's all that pleased about it. Becket's experienced, sure, but he's not the person Chuck would've picked, the main reason being that if they make it down to the wire?
There's no way Chuck's winning out against him. Chuck's dead before the blow has even come.
He can't sleep tonight; Raleigh's on watch but Chuck can only curl up on the ground and wrap his arms around his knees and scowl, eyes fixed on the dirt. He's hot, he's hungry, he feels sick to his stomach and he's got blood underneath his nails that isn't his.
Raleigh is terrified. He saw Sasha and Aleksis get the guys from Three that Stacker insists they need out of the cornucopia, and Chueng disappeared with Mako into the jungle. He's got Chuck, but he's out of his element in this kind of arena. The water is good, he knows how to get food from that in the morning, but it's not fresh and he's not sure how to find fresh water in a jungle. He'd have to ask Chuck about it when he woke him to see if he had any ideas.
Not that he thinks Chuck is actually sleeping, but at least he's pretending to rest. Neither of them are going to get much sleep until this is over, Raleigh already knows. He runs his hand over his face, and looks at Chuck. He's got to be stewing in this, a second games, and Raleigh couldn't afford to let him fuck his own brain up until this was over.
Chuck considers not answering him, but in the end he sits up and brushes the dirt off of his wetsuit, and stares at Raleigh with a fixed expression.
"What?"
No, he's not sleeping. He's still running on pure adrenaline and when he crashes, he's going to crash hard. For now though, he's too wound up and pent up and tense to even think about it. A twig snaps, he jumps. A bush rustles, he swings around, ready to pounce. Leaves above his head move with the breeze, and he holds his breath and waits for the axe to fall.
The younger guy is wired, and not going down soon, Raleigh can see it in the tension of his limbs and the way he's been flinching towards every sound in the jungle. He can't help but remember the way Chuck traveled with a pretty large group last time, that he was one of the ones doing the hunting, not the hiding.
"Do you know anything about finding fresh water in this kind of environment?"
"Sounds good. Something we can do when we can see them tomorrow."
Raleigh shrugs his shoulders in the direction they came from, the beach.
"I know how to catch crabs and fish out oysters for breakfast."
He wants to get Chuck to trust him, but he doesn't know how. For all he's tried to intercept and protect Herc's son from, they haven't actually interacted beyond acknowledgement over the past couple of years since Chuck's games.
Chuck has no idea the things that Raleigh's done for him. He is only aware that he's sitting next to a previous victor that he doesn't trust and that he thinks might slit his throat in the middle of the night. He can't sleep, not with that threat lingering.
He doesn't really have much else to say to Raleigh, so he leans against the tree, pulls his legs up, and keeps a vigilant watch around him.
Raleigh runs a hand through his hair and watches Chuck.
"I thought, if you don't have any objections, we might try to move back towards the beach while it's still dark, since no one's sleeping."
It would be a little more difficult and slow going, but it was unlikely that others would be moving at night, and Raleigh didn't want to stray too far from the beach, because that's where they were likely to meet up with Mako and the others. He wished he had a way to explain to Chuck what was going on, but Chuck was never supposed to be in here. He wasn't supposed to volunteer.
As much as he shouldn't be here, he couldn't let his fucking father
go in. He just -- couldn't let that happen.
"Yeah, mate -- lets move towards the open beach where people can
fucking see us. I've got a death wish, guess you do to."
He's getting up even as he's snarling at Raleigh, snatching at his weapon
and picking his way around Raleigh and starting off without waiting for him
to catch up.
Raleigh huffs, because he can fucking hear the lie in Chuck's voice, and he knew, knew that Chuck wouldn't believe him, but hearing it, and having it turned back on him, knowing Chuck would kill him hurts like things haven't gotten through Raleigh's wall to hurt in a long time. It makes him angry at himself, that he's invested so much of himself in Chuck, in too many ways.
He still can't even think of hurting him, though, so he keeps his mouth shut and keeps following Chuck back towards the beach. He looks over his shoulder every once in a while to make sure they're not being followed, and he doesn't see anyone, but there is a strange fog creeping from the back of the jungle where they had been.
Raleigh keeps going, picking up the pace a little, but the fog is closing in on them, creeping in from the sides of the trees too. It's not long before it licks at the side of his hand. His skin feels like it's on fire. He cries out and shoves Chuck forward.
"Run."
He pushes them, forcing Chuck to stay ahead of him. He's got to keep himself between Chuck and the fog.
Raleigh cries out and that actually scares Chuck more than the threat of the fog itself, because Becket's a goddamn buddha of placidness, that he's actually cried out has Chuck fucking moving, though he's checking back behind him to make sure Raleigh's coming.
In the moment, Raleigh's not his enemy. He's just another person fucked over by the Capitol, and Chuck's not ready to see him die yet.
"Move your fuckin' ass, Becket!"
Be a hero all you like, but if Raleigh falls back, Chuck's pausing too.
Raleigh's not falling behind. He is, in fact, nearly stepping on Chuck's heels pressing him forward. He pants and grits his teeth as the fog licks at his feet and creeps on his arms. Finally, he presses forward scooping Chuck into his arms.
"Don't stab me." He manages as he tucks his body around Chuck's and picks up his pace. He can feel the smack of the leaves around his legs and the fog seems to be growing, multiplying even as it moves. He's running faster, but the fog is catching up. It's burning at his elbows, his back, and calves.
Finally, he stumbled through the end of the forest and onto the beach. He can't see, can't breathe for the pain. The whole backside of his body is on fire. He drops Chuck to the sand and falls into the shallow waves. The water hurts, makes him start to scream before he regains the presence of mind to bite down on his hand instead. The sores are coming off, but Raleigh can't move to make it happen faster.
Oh, fucking christ. He's picking him up and Chuck is livid. He's not stupid enough to fight it while he's running because that would just mean Raleigh would trip and fall and they'd both die. So instead he lets Raleigh humiliate him on national television, only shoving himself away when he's dropped and at the moment he's so goddamn angry he doesn't give two shits who hears him. Raleigh's screaming, it was his bright idea to come out to the beach anyway.
"What the fuck is wrong with you!" Chuck screams, gesturing angrily. He has half a mind to just fucking kill him now and before Chuck can even think straight, he's got his weapon out and pointed while Raleigh scrubs at his hands and face.
"Don't you ever fucking touch me again! Do you hear me? Don't you ever put your filthy hands on me ever again!"
Cause so far Raleigh's done a really good job at making him feel inadequate and has managed to humiliate him in front of the Gamemakers (who will now think he's weak), potential sponsors (who are never going to send anything now that they know he's a goddamn pussy that needs ~rescuing~) and the rest of Panem.
If Chuck wins he wants it on his terms, not because he has a goddamn bodyguard.
...Killing Raleigh right now would prove otherwise. Chuck is seriously considering it.
Chuck's yelling at him, Raleigh thinks, as he looses his balance swaying and falling onto his back in the waves. They lap at his face and his skin, dispelling some of the odd sores and he slowly comes back to himself just in time to hear Chuck call his hands filthy.
Raleigh still feels nauseous and can't see straight, but he holds up his hand and looks at them. The sores are gone, they don't really hurt, just ache a little. He knows Chuck's not talking about that though, he's talking about what Raleigh's done in the Capital. He knows. He must know...
Chuck's asked him a question, Raleigh thinks, but he doesn't know what it was, or what he's supposed to answer.
Chuck's got no idea who or what Becket does in his spare time, that's what's funny.
Except it's not, and Chuck's pissed, and about five seconds from just running him through and calling it a day. It's the only way to salvage his reputation, the only way to get any kind of sponsors because at the moment?
Everyone on the outside thinks he's a complete fucking waste, that he's useless and won't make it on his own.
..Abruptly, Chuck pulls back, slams the butt of his staff in the sand as he looks at Raleigh, then he just -- turns around, and stalks back into the forest.
Someone else can kill Becket. Chuck can't bring himself to do it, but he's finished with him. If he can go it alone, and win out, then maybe--
Maybe it won't be so goddamn horrible on the outside. It's easier being alone, not being close to anyone. That way, it's not so hard to kill anyone.
Raleigh's not aware, not until he hears the sand shift and he knows Chuck's leaving. He curses out loud, and forces himself up. The poison's gone and he can hardly walk, but with every step he moves, he gets steadier and stumbles after Chuck into the forest.
"Wait-- it's not gone-Chuck-"
With a bit of vindictiveness he hoped Herc was watching this. It was a cruel thought, but it didn't stop Raleigh from hoping someone was hurting on his behalf and cursing Chuck along with him.
Chuck bolts when he gets into the forest. Raleigh's still a little bleary and Chuck uses that to his advantage, taking sharp turns and heading into the thickest part of the underbrush in order to avoid detection. With the racket they were making on the beach, they won't be alone long. Chuck doesn't intend to run into any careers.
He hears Raleigh say his name, and it just prompts him to move faster, to push himself harder, harder because he know he can, he's capable, he doesn't need someone saving his fucking ass. He's won this before, cut a swath through the other tributes last time -- he doesn't need Raleigh.
Raleigh can practically feel Chuck pick up his pace. It's what he would have done in his situation. He's only nineteen, but his body feels ancient. He can feel his old injury from Knifehead making his left arm twitch, which isn't good. He can shoot well with his right hand, but his left hand is his preferred arm and that's not going to be any kind of advantage for him if he's hurting.
He doesn't call again for Chuck. It would be stupid at this point. Sound travels fast over water, and even with the waves someone had probably heard him screaming. They didn't need him giving away Chuck's position or his own by continuing to call. Instead, he concentrated on tracking Chuck.
Raleigh thought he could hear him, his quiet breaths and jogging steps not far ahead of him, when lines sudden shot out of jungle and embedded themselves in his bad shoulder. An electric current ran through his body. He let out one sharp scream before he fell to the ground twitching. It was probably just enough to stun him on a regular time, but disoriented and wet from the ocean it's knocked him to the ground and made him vulnerable.
A camouflaged body moves in the trees, Raiju, the career known for this particular tactic of stunning his opponents and playing with them before he kills them. Raleigh can't get his limbs to cooperate with the current running through them. It hurts, fuck it hurts, but he can't scream, he can't get to his gun. He's going to die and Chuck's going to be on his own with no one that knows the plan and he's going to get left behind or killed.
Hopeless panic overwhelms Raleigh's chest, and he's back there again, watching the launchable trap clamp around Yancy's body and drag him away into the deep of their arena.
Chuck hears Raleigh’s scream and the steps behind him stop. Chuck’s good at
hiding in the underbrush; despite being obnoxious and loud and bitchy,
Chuck’s quite good and hunkering down and rendering himself invisible. He’s
actually not that far ahead of Raleigh; he’d slowed his pace not only to
keep the noise to a minimum but also because he’s confused.
Raleigh’s had a couple opportunities to kill him and he hasn’t so much as
pulled a single weapon on him. Sure, they’re allies, but even allies have
to kill each other eventually – Chuck’s really fucking aware of that. He’d
cried when he slid his knife into the belly of the girl he’d allied with
last time, and she’d held onto him while she died, babbling that she
forgave him and it was better that he made it out, because he was so much
stronger than her.
He still has nightmares about her, and the things he’d done to survive.
And now, Raleigh’s in trouble. Chuck knows he’s in trouble, and it’d
be easy to let someone else do the dirty work and kill him off.
But there’s something about that stupid blonde that Chuck can’t shake and
so he doubles back, keeping to the shadows. He eventually sees Raleigh but
he knows - knows - who he’s dealing with here and stealth and a
quick, fast kill is what’s going to be necessary if either of them are
going to survive Raiju.
Chuck’s patient, though. He’s as patient as Raiju and he simply watches,
breathing slow, even, and silent until Raiju passes right in front of him,
on his way to taunt and murder Raleigh.
Chuck doesn’t hesitate.
He comes right at him from behind, catching Raiju on the back and both men
hit the ground. There’s a quick scuffle and Chuck’s pretty fucking sure
he’s going to die, but then his switchblade is embedded in Raiju’s
neck, blood spurting like a geyser into Chuck’s face, and the man goes
limp, and a cannon booms. Shivering, Chuck pushes Raiju’s body off and
scrambles back, teeth chattering even though it’s anything but cold. He
stumbles over to Raleigh, motor functions still not up to speed, and grabs
his arm.
“C’mon, asshole,” he rasps, fingers digging into his bicep. “We gotta move.
Everyone on this fucking island knows where we are now.”
Chuck's fingers at digging into Raleigh's bicep and it's a miracle that he's not feeling the shock too, but maybe the suits don't conduct and it's only working on Raleigh because most of his suit was eaten away at by the fog. It takes just a second, but it's so hard to speak.
"Taser-shock points. Off." He needs Chuck to turn the taser off so he can pull the points out of his skin. Otherwise he's not moving anywhere. He can't even think enough right now to register the fact that Chuck came back for him.
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Not that he thinks Chuck is actually sleeping, but at least he's pretending to rest. Neither of them are going to get much sleep until this is over, Raleigh already knows. He runs his hand over his face, and looks at Chuck. He's got to be stewing in this, a second games, and Raleigh couldn't afford to let him fuck his own brain up until this was over.
"Chuck?" He whispered.
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"What?"
No, he's not sleeping. He's still running on pure adrenaline and when he crashes, he's going to crash hard. For now though, he's too wound up and pent up and tense to even think about it. A twig snaps, he jumps. A bush rustles, he swings around, ready to pounce. Leaves above his head move with the breeze, and he holds his breath and waits for the axe to fall.
It still hasn't. Not yet.
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"Do you know anything about finding fresh water in this kind of environment?"
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Chuck looks at him and sort of smirks, brows lifting up.
"Might." He tips his head up, looks around and wrinkles his nose. "Follow the animals. They gotta get water, too."
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Raleigh shrugs his shoulders in the direction they came from, the beach.
"I know how to catch crabs and fish out oysters for breakfast."
He wants to get Chuck to trust him, but he doesn't know how. For all he's tried to intercept and protect Herc's son from, they haven't actually interacted beyond acknowledgement over the past couple of years since Chuck's games.
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Chuck has no idea the things that Raleigh's done for him. He is only aware that he's sitting next to a previous victor that he doesn't trust and that he thinks might slit his throat in the middle of the night. He can't sleep, not with that threat lingering.
He doesn't really have much else to say to Raleigh, so he leans against the tree, pulls his legs up, and keeps a vigilant watch around him.
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"I thought, if you don't have any objections, we might try to move back towards the beach while it's still dark, since no one's sleeping."
It would be a little more difficult and slow going, but it was unlikely that others would be moving at night, and Raleigh didn't want to stray too far from the beach, because that's where they were likely to meet up with Mako and the others. He wished he had a way to explain to Chuck what was going on, but Chuck was never supposed to be in here. He wasn't supposed to volunteer.
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As much as he shouldn't be here, he couldn't let his fucking father go in. He just -- couldn't let that happen.
"Yeah, mate -- lets move towards the open beach where people can fucking see us. I've got a death wish, guess you do to."
He's getting up even as he's snarling at Raleigh, snatching at his weapon and picking his way around Raleigh and starting off without waiting for him to catch up.
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"Stop tramping." He hisses. "I didn't say go on the beach yet, but we can watch from the trees. We're going to have to be there to get food anyway."
He's careful to even his tone back out. He doesn't want to get mad at Chuck or keep Chuck mad at him.
"I'm not going to hurt you, Chuck. I know you won't believe me, but I'm not going to hurt you or kill you."
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"Yeah mate," he drawls quietly, covering his mouth to muffle a snort. "I'm not gonna hurt or kill you either."
Yes, he will -- if and when he has to. He's not going down without a fight.
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He still can't even think of hurting him, though, so he keeps his mouth shut and keeps following Chuck back towards the beach. He looks over his shoulder every once in a while to make sure they're not being followed, and he doesn't see anyone, but there is a strange fog creeping from the back of the jungle where they had been.
"We might need to move quicker. Look."
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Or at least, he'll try. Chuck's completely clueless about what Raleigh thinks about him, and right now, he could fucking care less.
"The fuck is that--"
Whatever it is, it's coming quick.
"...'S just fog."
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"Run."
He pushes them, forcing Chuck to stay ahead of him. He's got to keep himself between Chuck and the fog.
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In the moment, Raleigh's not his enemy. He's just another person fucked over by the Capitol, and Chuck's not ready to see him die yet.
"Move your fuckin' ass, Becket!"
Be a hero all you like, but if Raleigh falls back, Chuck's pausing too.
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"Don't stab me." He manages as he tucks his body around Chuck's and picks up his pace. He can feel the smack of the leaves around his legs and the fog seems to be growing, multiplying even as it moves. He's running faster, but the fog is catching up. It's burning at his elbows, his back, and calves.
Finally, he stumbled through the end of the forest and onto the beach. He can't see, can't breathe for the pain. The whole backside of his body is on fire. He drops Chuck to the sand and falls into the shallow waves. The water hurts, makes him start to scream before he regains the presence of mind to bite down on his hand instead. The sores are coming off, but Raleigh can't move to make it happen faster.
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The hell is Raleigh talking about--
Oh, fucking christ. He's picking him up and Chuck is livid. He's not stupid enough to fight it while he's running because that would just mean Raleigh would trip and fall and they'd both die. So instead he lets Raleigh humiliate him on national television, only shoving himself away when he's dropped and at the moment he's so goddamn angry he doesn't give two shits who hears him. Raleigh's screaming, it was his bright idea to come out to the beach anyway.
"What the fuck is wrong with you!" Chuck screams, gesturing angrily. He has half a mind to just fucking kill him now and before Chuck can even think straight, he's got his weapon out and pointed while Raleigh scrubs at his hands and face.
"Don't you ever fucking touch me again! Do you hear me? Don't you ever put your filthy hands on me ever again!"
Cause so far Raleigh's done a really good job at making him feel inadequate and has managed to humiliate him in front of the Gamemakers (who will now think he's weak), potential sponsors (who are never going to send anything now that they know he's a goddamn pussy that needs ~rescuing~) and the rest of Panem.
If Chuck wins he wants it on his terms, not because he has a goddamn bodyguard.
...Killing Raleigh right now would prove otherwise. Chuck is seriously considering it.
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Raleigh still feels nauseous and can't see straight, but he holds up his hand and looks at them. The sores are gone, they don't really hurt, just ache a little. He knows Chuck's not talking about that though, he's talking about what Raleigh's done in the Capital. He knows. He must know...
Chuck's asked him a question, Raleigh thinks, but he doesn't know what it was, or what he's supposed to answer.
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Except it's not, and Chuck's pissed, and about five seconds from just running him through and calling it a day. It's the only way to salvage his reputation, the only way to get any kind of sponsors because at the moment?
Everyone on the outside thinks he's a complete fucking waste, that he's useless and won't make it on his own.
..Abruptly, Chuck pulls back, slams the butt of his staff in the sand as he looks at Raleigh, then he just -- turns around, and stalks back into the forest.
Someone else can kill Becket. Chuck can't bring himself to do it, but he's finished with him. If he can go it alone, and win out, then maybe--
Maybe it won't be so goddamn horrible on the outside. It's easier being alone, not being close to anyone. That way, it's not so hard to kill anyone.
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"Wait-- it's not gone-Chuck-"
With a bit of vindictiveness he hoped Herc was watching this. It was a cruel thought, but it didn't stop Raleigh from hoping someone was hurting on his behalf and cursing Chuck along with him.
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He hears Raleigh say his name, and it just prompts him to move faster, to push himself harder, harder because he know he can, he's capable, he doesn't need someone saving his fucking ass. He's won this before, cut a swath through the other tributes last time -- he doesn't need Raleigh.
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He doesn't call again for Chuck. It would be stupid at this point. Sound travels fast over water, and even with the waves someone had probably heard him screaming. They didn't need him giving away Chuck's position or his own by continuing to call. Instead, he concentrated on tracking Chuck.
Raleigh thought he could hear him, his quiet breaths and jogging steps not far ahead of him, when lines sudden shot out of jungle and embedded themselves in his bad shoulder. An electric current ran through his body. He let out one sharp scream before he fell to the ground twitching. It was probably just enough to stun him on a regular time, but disoriented and wet from the ocean it's knocked him to the ground and made him vulnerable.
A camouflaged body moves in the trees, Raiju, the career known for this particular tactic of stunning his opponents and playing with them before he kills them. Raleigh can't get his limbs to cooperate with the current running through them. It hurts, fuck it hurts, but he can't scream, he can't get to his gun. He's going to die and Chuck's going to be on his own with no one that knows the plan and he's going to get left behind or killed.
Hopeless panic overwhelms Raleigh's chest, and he's back there again, watching the launchable trap clamp around Yancy's body and drag him away into the deep of their arena.
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Chuck hears Raleigh’s scream and the steps behind him stop. Chuck’s good at hiding in the underbrush; despite being obnoxious and loud and bitchy, Chuck’s quite good and hunkering down and rendering himself invisible. He’s actually not that far ahead of Raleigh; he’d slowed his pace not only to keep the noise to a minimum but also because he’s confused.
Raleigh’s had a couple opportunities to kill him and he hasn’t so much as pulled a single weapon on him. Sure, they’re allies, but even allies have to kill each other eventually – Chuck’s really fucking aware of that. He’d cried when he slid his knife into the belly of the girl he’d allied with last time, and she’d held onto him while she died, babbling that she forgave him and it was better that he made it out, because he was so much stronger than her.
He still has nightmares about her, and the things he’d done to survive.
And now, Raleigh’s in trouble. Chuck knows he’s in trouble, and it’d be easy to let someone else do the dirty work and kill him off.
But there’s something about that stupid blonde that Chuck can’t shake and so he doubles back, keeping to the shadows. He eventually sees Raleigh but he knows - knows - who he’s dealing with here and stealth and a quick, fast kill is what’s going to be necessary if either of them are going to survive Raiju.
Chuck’s patient, though. He’s as patient as Raiju and he simply watches, breathing slow, even, and silent until Raiju passes right in front of him, on his way to taunt and murder Raleigh.
Chuck doesn’t hesitate.
He comes right at him from behind, catching Raiju on the back and both men hit the ground. There’s a quick scuffle and Chuck’s pretty fucking sure he’s going to die, but then his switchblade is embedded in Raiju’s neck, blood spurting like a geyser into Chuck’s face, and the man goes limp, and a cannon booms. Shivering, Chuck pushes Raiju’s body off and scrambles back, teeth chattering even though it’s anything but cold. He stumbles over to Raleigh, motor functions still not up to speed, and grabs his arm.
“C’mon, asshole,” he rasps, fingers digging into his bicep. “We gotta move. Everyone on this fucking island knows where we are now.”
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"Taser-shock points. Off." He needs Chuck to turn the taser off so he can pull the points out of his skin. Otherwise he's not moving anywhere. He can't even think enough right now to register the fact that Chuck came back for him.
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