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SHALL WE RISE?

act two. 

(chapter twenty-two, we are not kids anymore)

victor's village, 2313.

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"I SWEAR TO GOD, if you don't wake your ass up." A voice echoed in Valencia's head. "Get up, Lennie!"

Valencia was knocked out cold on her wooden floors, snores echoing around her house as liquor bottles surrounded her. Saliva ran down her chin and onto the floor panels as she groaned and moved around. Her eyes were still clamped shut as she felt someone prodding her with their toe.

"I swear, is this how you feel when I'm hungover?" The voice asked. "This is awful... Lennie, if you don't get up, I'm going to pour water on you."

"What do you want?" Valencia groaned as she peeled her eyes open, rubbing the back of her neck.

Towering over her, hands on hips, was Commie. He wore a red crimson sweater with brown slacks and his hair was surprisingly combed back that Valencia wondered if something important was happening today. Commie's eyes were harsh as he squinted down at her.

"Have you forgotten?" Commie asked her. "Have you seriously forgotten? I told you just yesterday!"

"Forgotten what?" Valencia scoffed as she pulled herself up from the floor, rubbing her eyes as she stood up in-front of Commie. "Is it your birthday? Or Nova's? Is that why you're dressed up so nicely?"

"No, Lennie." The older man sighed as he patted her on the shoulder. "It's Anita's dinner today, remember? In the evening?"

"Oh." Valencia gasped. "Wait, evening? That's ages away, it's only morning."

"It's evening now, Lennie."

Valencia's eyebrows furrowed as she looked out the window, wincing when she saw that the sun was disappearing behind the tip of the trees. She groaned as she wiped her face free of any saliva and ran a hand through her hair. 

"Are you sure I have to go?"

"Every Victor is going," Commie told her as he watched her pace around her house, picking up any rubbish that was laying around. Most of it was liquor bottles. "Even Terry is going."

"If Antares is going then I'm not," Valencia told her mentor as she walked to the kitchen and placed the bottles in the trash. 

"Are you serious?" Commie scoffed. "Seriously, you're both acting like children. You're twenty-four now, Lennie. Terry is thirty-one."

"And you're fifty-eight, what are you trying to prove?"

"I'm trying to prove that you aren't a kid anymore," said Commie. "So, you two could act like adults and figure this whole situation out."

"First off, he didn't want to see me after I got out of the arena and kinda chose Silas over me," Valencia started, casing Commie to groan. "Secondly, I tried to kill him—"

"— with a butter knife—"

"And thirdly, we haven't had a proper conversation in nine years," Valencia said as she narrowed her eyes at Commie for his interruption. "And I've tried, he just closes the door in my face."

"Well, you don't go about it the right way though, do you...?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Well, have you gone to see Billie and Athena yet?" Commie cleared his throat. "You know, the girl's five now."

"Oh, yippee," Valencia muttered as she moved out of the kitchen and back into the living room where Commie was leaning against the wall. "Oh, please, I haven't spoken to Billie in years. Actually, I don't think I've spoken to her ever since I got back from the Games."

"Your social life is very complicated."

"Not really," she said. "I have a former best friend who I don't talk to anymore and a brother who hates me for killing—"

"—Well, I don't hate you and neither does Nova," Commie told her softly, his eyes warm before turning harsh. "But I will if you don't get dressed to go to Anita's thing."

"I'm not going!"

"Yes, you are!"

When Valencia watched Commie slam the front door behind him and walk back to his own house, she groaned as she banged her head against the wall. She was hungover, of course. 

Valencia hissed as she forced herself to walk up the stairs and into her bedroom. When she got glance of herself in the mirror, she knew she needed a shower, but she wouldn't be staying at Anita Greene's for long. She would go for the considerable amount of time that would have Commie happy, but not too long where she threatened Antares with a knife. She chuckled at the thought as she pulled a deep blue turtleneck over her head and a pair of black trousers on with her boots. They were the boots that she normally wore before the Reaping when she would go into the woods. They were clean since they hadn't been used for hunting in nine years. 

Valencia barely had time to brush her knotty hair when she heard Commie yell at her to hurry up from outside. Running down the stairs and through the halls, she yanked open the door and sighed as she ran a hand through her hair, joining Commie at the cobblestone path.

"I'm only coming to make you happy," Valencia grumbled as Commie took her by the arm and led her down to where Anita house was. 

"Well, come for Anita as well," Commie muttered. "You know she rarely does stuff like this."

"Why is she doing it?" Valencia asked. "What's the point? The dinner is just going to be miserable and depressing and it will probably end with me digging my knife in Antares—"

"—which is why you are not going to sit near Terry at all tonight."

"Well, tell Antares to keep his fat mouth shut or I will shove my knife into his stomach."

Commie mumbled something under his breath as he and Valencia stopped at one of the houses. Commie coughed into his handkerchief before walking up to the patio and knocking hardly on the door. Valencia prayed that Anita wouldn't answer, but when she did with Daniel Tukker behind her, Valencia winced internally. 

"Ah, Flint," Anita expressed warmly as she pulled Commie in for a hug. She was sober. "Valencia... come in."

Valencia looked for any exit routes when Commie and her were led through Anita's house, which looked exactly like her own, but smelled strongly of different herbs with a hint of alcohol and morphling. Anita and Daniel led her and Commie into the dining room. Valencia wished she had her knives on her when she saw her brother and Nova sitting in two of the chairs. Commie went to go and greet Antares whilst Valencia sat down next to Nova, sending her a warm smile. The girl waved joyfully back.

"Have they announced the mentors' for this year?" Daniel asked once Commie had sat down beside Valencia and Nova and Anita beside Antares and him.

"Not yet," Anita told him. "But it is a Quarter Quell."

"Haymitch is going to get a lot of traction this year," Antares muttered. "Considering he won the last one and all."

"Nah, he won't." Commie groaned as he took a chug from his glass. "With that stupid wedding with Everdeen and Mellark, the Capitol won't even share a glance at Haymitch."

Haymitch won the last Quarter Quell. He never spoke about it and if he did, it would be one sentence before he stopped talking. His Games was a sore topic. But everyone's Games was a sore topic.

Valencia snapped out of her thoughts when she heard a timer go off somewhere in the kitchen, Anita excusing herself as she left to go attend to the food. Daniel went off after her and so it left just Valencia, Commie, Nova, and Antares. Valencia could feel her brothers eyes on her and so when she looked at him, she didn't want to be the first to look away and so it turned into a staring contest, their eyes both narrowing like daggers.

"Really?" Commie scoffed. "A staring contest? What are you two? Five?"

"You know who else is five?" Antares asked as he raised an eyebrow, still maintaining eye contact with his sister. "Athena Solace."

"You speak a word about Athena Solace, I will pick up a knife and slit your throat with it," Valencia hissed as she continued to stare back. "And it won't be a butter knife."

"This is fun, Valencia." Antares gritted his teeth. "Lovely talking to you."

"I can't say the same."

"Well, this is charming," Nova piped up, looking at the two Barlowe siblings like they were crazy. "And to think that you two would get along tonight."

"They never get along, O'Malley." Commie gritted his teeth. "Honestly, it's like I'm living with two teenagers."

"At least you don't need to worry about having kids." Valencia shrugged. "We're basically your children."

"I'm putting you two up for adoption then."

"What about me?" Nova raised a brow.

"You can stay."

Valencia furrowed her eyebrows as she crossed her arms, leaning back into her seat as she waited for Anita and Daniel to come back out. It was a few minutes before the older woman came out holding a large plate that was filled with a sort of pasta and creamy sauce. Valencia stared at the plate as Commie and everyone else began to fill up their plates. She took a few sips of her wine before loading up a small plate of food. All Valencia wanted to do was go home. She wanted to go and sink into her bed and greet Donna and Dominica. 

Valencia did try and forget what happened in the Games, but with how gruesome the deaths were, there was no way. Valencia could easily be in a conversation and somehow, she would be reminded of the arena, be reminded of her allies's deaths: Dominica's head toppling off, Donna with an axe in her brain, Rome with a sword in his abdomen. And then the tributes she had mentored would pop up occasionally, her groans when she watched them die in her seat echoing around in her ears.

Anita's and Daniel's voices became all fuzzy as she had a hard time trying to focus on the things around her. Valencia's chest began to seize up as she struggled to breathe and soon, with a pounding headache that she wasn't sure was from the panic or from the hangover, she grabbed Commie's hand and squeezed it. 

Commie stopped listening to Anita and Daniel the moment he felt Valencia's hand slip into his, surveying her as he checked her. When he saw her tense up, he immediately stood her up and took her outside of Anita's house. For nine years of panic, Commie knew what was happening and how to deal with it.

The minute Valencia got outside, she collapsed to the grass, landing on her knees as she put her hands out in-front of her. As she began to puke onto the ground, Commie winced as he rubbed her back.

"Are you puking from the food or because you're hungover?"

"Hungover, I think."

"Bloody hell, Lennie." Commie groaned as he watched Valencia wipe her mouth clean. "Have you ever thought about going sober? You're going to get a fatty liver, you know."

"Have you ever thought about going sober?"

"Okay, fair point." Commie sighed. 

"You know," Valencia began to say. "We both just sounded like Nova then."

"Bloody hell... that's a bad thing."

"I told you I didn't want to come." Valencia sighed as she flopped onto her back, staring up at the now night sky. "We've only been here for a bit and I've already thrown up."

"I'll tell Anita it wasn't because of her food," Commie assured her. "It's because of your health decisions."

"It's not just from my hangover, Comm." Valencia groaned. "It's like... it's like every time I think of any of them, I freeze and I start to panic."

"I know," Commie told her softly. "I know you can't forget what happened."

"Then why is no other Victor like this?" Valencia groaned. "I don't see Anita or Daniel or Nova or even Antares puking in their backyard because their hungover and still caught up in their Games."

"We all deal with it in our own different ways," Commie said as he knelt down next to her. "But don't feel left out, us Victors' all deal with liquor to drown away our pain... maybe except Nova."

"But it was nine years ago, Comm." Valencia sniffled as she rubbed her nose. "And I'm still acting as if it happened just a few weeks ago—"

"It doesn't matter if it was nine years ago, or ten, or twenty," Commie immediately interrupted her. "What you went through, no-one can possibly fathom it. Even the Capitol said it was one of the most gruesome Games there was. Hell, my games were forty-two years ago and I'm still in pain. It doesn't matter how long ago it was, Lennie, you're still mourning."

"God, you're old," Valencia teased as she rubbed her eyes and sat up. 

"I'm trying to make you feel better."

"Yes, I know, thank you." Valencia sighed. "God, I hate life."

"I hate it too," Commie told her. "We can hate it together. We can ask O'Malley if she wants to join our little club."

"She'll definitely join."

"Yeah. She's like the definition of hate."

Valencia shook her head as she laughed at the older man, grabbing his out spread hand and standing up. Inside of Anita's house, Antares was moping in his chair whilst the two other Victors' began to drink straight from a liquor bottle. Nova looked at them like they were crazy. Valencia wiped her mouth again and bid her mentor goodnight, making her way back to her house slowly. She had too much liquor yesterday and she had some sort of common sense to not drink more. 

As she made her way home, walking up the steps and opening her door, Valencia looked longingly at Antares's house. She always did. That house was her childhood, sort of. She spent half her life in that stupid building. That house had so many memories that Valencia sometimes wished that she could burn it down. But she supposed she was nice enough to let Antares keep it. 

Valencia kicked off her shoes and immediately went running up to her bedroom, into the attached bathroom. The showers were much different than what they were in the Capitol. In the Capitol, there was at least a hundred buttons for the controls, but in the districts, there was simply two knobs: one for hot water and one for cold. It was not as extravagant.

With the hot water running down her body, getting in her eyes and soaking her skin, Valencia tried to focus her mind. Tomorrow, she had to go to the market with Commie. The two regularly went out to buy more liquor. Valencia chuckled when she remembered Commie's remark about going sober. Sober was an unknown word for both her and her mentor despite Nova's tries to teach it to them.

Valencia finally turned the shower off as she watched the dirt and grime fall into the drain in circles. She felt more refreshed and as she towelled her hair dry, slipping on her night attire, Valencia finally managed to catch a breath. But she knew that wouldn't last long because when she slipped under the covers and closed her eyes, she was greeted by Donna and Dominica. 

Some dreams were good ones. Some, Valencia would see a world where there were no Games, where Donna and Dominica were both alive, where Valencia herself wasn't plagued as a drunkard and everyone was still alive like her mother and father. But others, other dreams were nightmares. 

In those nightmares, she would be running through the snowy arena, Clara chasing right behind her as she lodged an axe into her head. Some were where Confetti, Louis, Jacob, and Silas came wandering into her room and hit her repeatedly with their weapons. One time, Valencia was too frightened to enter her bedroom that Commie once found her sleeping on her couch.

But tonight, Valencia closed her eyes and braced herself for what was going to happen. When there was suddenly a large crash that echoed around the place, she nearly started sobbing as she figured the Careers' had found a way to enter her house. But when she heard Commie's and Antares's voices booming around, she immediately opened her eyes and raced to her window.

In the middle of Victors' Village, Antares and Commie were both standing in-front of each other. Antares had a face of rage as he spat at the older man, who Valencia couldn't see his face because his back was turned to face her. 

Antares was yelling at Commie for something, pointing at Valencia's house. She furrowed her eyebrows as she watched Commie try and calm him down, but soon, Antares had raised his fist and his hand went straight into Commie's jaw. Valencia kicked her wall as she went rushing down her stairs and into the kitchen, where she picked up a knife from a wood block, and out into Victors' Village.

"Great, now she's out here with a knife," Antares hissed as he ran a hand through his hair. "What is up with you and knives?"

"What the hell did you do to Commie?" Valencia demanded as she pointed the kitchen knife at her brother. "What the hell did you do?"

"Lennie, it's fine," Commie whispered as he tried to draw her back by the shoulders. "It's not the first time I've been punched."

"I don't care!" Valencia hissed as she pushed Commie away. "For nine years, I've had to deal with you, but hitting Commie is just something else, Antares!"

"What are you going to do?" Antares scoffed. "Kill me with a kitchen knife?"

"I've killed four Careers' and a massive giant who so happened to be my district partner. I won the Hunger Games. I outlived a cannibal." Valencia gritted her teeth. "What do you think is stopping me from slitting your throat right now?"

In Valencia's Games, many things happened behind the scenes that she didn't know about. One thing included a cannibal. It was the boy from Five and he had killed the girl from Three (Valencia had thought the Careers' killed those two, but she was mistaken). But Silas had killed him. They recapped her Games every few years, but one year, Valencia got a glance of Silas ripping open the cannibal's stomach and leaving him to bleed out. That made Valencia want to puke and as she thought of it now, she could feel the vomit rising. This was how the Games tormented people's minds. They turned kids into monsters.

And with the addition of the cannibal, Valencia also found out who killed Maynard. It was not the Careers' or Silas, but rather the girl from Seven. Apparently, according to Commie when Valencia asked one night, Seven and the girl from Ten had an alliance, but ran into Maynard and Silas. Ten inevitably got killed by Six, but Seven was fuelled with anger and so, she killed Maynard. She was soon slaughtered by Silas, who, as Commie said, was shaking with anger. Valencia never spoke to Seven and Ten, but she was surprised at the girls's strength.

"Nothing is stopping you. And also, you were nowhere near that cannibal." Antares sighed, shaking his head. "But not everything has to be dealt with a knife, Valencia. You're not in the Games anymore."

"I might not be, but my head surely is."

Antares did not have anything to say and so, he walked off, charging into his home and slamming the door behind him. Valencia let out a sigh as she turned to Commie, who had a raised eyebrow whilst he caressed the skin that her brother punched.

"Really?" Commie asked as he took a deep breath. "A knife, Lennie?"

"He hit you!" Valencia ran her free hand through her hair. "I'm not just going to let that slide!"

"Well, it's comforting that someone actually cares for me."

"Why did he punch you?"

"I tried to talk him about giving you a chance again," Commie began to explain as he rolled his jaw. "But he wouldn't have it. He's too stubborn."

"I thought you gave up trying years ago, Comm."

"I did," he replied. "But it hit me that you two are brother and sister, you need each other. I just want you two to talk... I don't' expect you to be Cashmere and Gloss, but still."

"Commie, it's a fight not worth fighting." Valencia sighed. "I'll never forgive him for what happened in my Games and he'll never forgive me for trying to kill him with a butter knife."

"It's not just that though, is it?" Commie asked her. "Is it because of your mother?"

Valencia blinked numerous times as she looked up at the sky, feeling Commie take the knife away from her as she said, "Yeah, I think so. I mean, we could have reconciled all those years ago, but Ma's death hit hard. She, surprisingly, kept us together. And he blames me for her death—"

"It wasn't your fault," Commie suddenly interrupted. "Your mother's death was in no way your fault. It's Snow's."

"I know that."

Commie just nodded his head as he flipped the knife around in his hands. Sometimes, Valencia forgets that he was also a knife-thrower in his own Games.

"Well, are we still up for tomorrow?" Valencia asked him as she rubbed her face.

"Yeah, I've nearly run out of liquor." Commie groaned. "Wait, are your wearing pyjamas? It's like half seven."

"Shut up, Comm."