A L T H E A

   Surprisingly, the overwhelming dread put Althea right to sleep. Thatcher woke her in the morning with dark circles under his eyes. He didn't say a word, just laid beside her and slid under the covers.
   "We're a team, right?" He asked, surprising her.
   She rolled to face him. "Thatch, we'll always be a team," she murmured. He pushed his face into a pillow.
   "Find each other first. Worry about the others after," he mumbled.
   She snuggled further into the blankets. "Okay."
   Heels clicked down the hall, Laguna knocking twice. "Up and at em, kids."
   Althea was first out of bed. She hopped in the shower and heard Thatcher leave. No matter how much she wanted to stay under the water, she knew she would be dragged out sooner or later. Drying off, she dressed in the plain clothes given to her. She slipped the gold chain Haymitch had given her around her neck, the two charms thudding against her chest. The angelfish and the flame were cold against her skin.
   Breakfast didn't sound enticing at all, but she downed the sausage and eggs at a steady pace anyways. Three glasses of water in, and Logan said nothing. Hell, he wouldn't even look at her.
   Paprika entered the room looking almost sickly. Althea stood from her seat.
   "Wait," Logan blurted.
   Althea didn't allow him to finish. "Get them out, Dad. All of them," she said. "You at least owe us that."
   Paprika guided her to the roof, where a hovercraft waited. The electric current froze Althea as she ascended into the aircraft. She grimaced when they injected the tracker in her forearm, the sting lingering afterwards.
   When they finally reached the Launch Room at the arena, Althea spoke. "What, Pap?"
   "Cinna," was all the woman said. Althea let her braid her hair into a seven piece plait. It was tight, but hopefully that meant it would stay in place.
   Althea stared down at her hands. The vibrations in them were strong despite her rest, hydration, and that she had eaten fairly well before leaving. Her first games she'd been unable to tie her own boots or zip her own jacket. Would it be different this time?
   Paprika cursed quietly, drawing Althea's attention away from her hands. The stylist held a piece of fabric that could only be described as a wetsuit. Althea's heart thundered in her ears. Water filled her lungs and clouded her eyes.
   She gasped, clutching her chest.
  A sharp sting cut across her cheek. Her eyes cleared and she found Paprika holding her face with both hands.
   "You can't, Althea. Even if there is water, you have to power through. For Willow. For your brothers. For Thatcher. For Finnick. For me, Althea," Pap pleaded. "You have to keep it together."
Althea gripped Paprika's hands and reminded herself to take a waterless breath.
   Paprika helped her into the suit, belt, and boots. They tucked her necklace under the suit's sheer fabric.
   Pap pressed their foreheads together. "You fight like hell, you hear me?" She asked. Althea nodded. The voice announced over the speak that it's time to launch. Althea hugged Pap with enough force to crack a rib before stepping onto the plate. The glass encased her.
   A hologram appeared and Paprika's screams filled room as they watched Peacekeepers beat Cinna bloody and limp.
Althea couldn't afford to process what she'd seen. The platform rose and a hot white light blinded her immediately. Water licked at her feet and splashed around her.
A quick look put Apollo to her left and a rock runway to her right. Gloss smirked at her from the other side, freezing her on the spot.
Fight like hell, Althea.
She clenched her fists and looked away. She found Thatcher six spaces away. He jerked his head to the jungle behind him. Althea understood, but if their plan failed, she was screwed.
The gong rang. Althea sucked in a breath and wasted no time diving into the water. The purple belt at her waist kept her afloat.
The faster you go, the faster you're out.
Scrambling in the sand, she bolted for the trees. A few yards in, she scaled a tree. It was high enough not to be seen from the ground, but low enough not to be seen from the Cornucopia. Althea struggled to regulate her breathing. Unable to do so, she clapped a hand over her mouth, forcing herself to breathe through her nose. Her hand hurt from gripping the tree. Salt stung her eyes from the water, which meant that it wouldn't be a drinkable resource.
   Minutes passed like hours. Eventually, through the sounds of the water and chaos, she heard a pigeon call.
   She cupped her hands to her mouth and repeated the call. A responding call came closer. Althea dropped from the tree and stood to find a blade at her throat.
   "Betraying me already, Golsbane?" She was only half joking.
   Thatcher was soaking wet and bleeding from a cut on his forehead. The sword at her neck was a katana, but he had a broadsword strapped to his back and two daggers at his waist. He dropped the katana, panting.
   "Not in a million years, Hawkforge," he heaved. Althea took the broadsword and strapped it to her own back. While she was doing that, Thatcher tucked a dagger into her belt.
   "Let's go," Althea said.
   As they walked, Thatcher told her about the bloodbath. "Finnick, Mags, Katniss, and Peeta are alive." He cut through a vine. "Apollo, Orville, Kenny, Woof, and Cecelia are down."
   Althea swallowed the grief for Apollo and Cecelia down like lead bile. Cecelia was a mother of six. And she'd hoped Apollo would last much longer than he did. "Jo?"
   "You think she'd get killed in the first ten minutes?"
   Althea cut a vine that hung in her way. "No. I don't." But she had to ask.
   As far as she could tell, it was nearing dusk. Had they been in the hovercraft for that long?
   A canon sounded, followed by six more. They paused, counting and wondering who else had died.
   Althea wiped the sweat from her face. "I'm going to see if there's any fresh water," she said. Putting her sword on her back in its sheath, she found a sturdy tree and scaled it to the top.
   The jungle formed a donut around the beach. The only sign of water she could find was the saltwater surrounding the Cornucopia. A flash of flesh caught Althea's eye in a tree across the arena. Squinting, Althea discerned it was Katniss in the other tree. The teen was more than likely doing the same as her.
   Unsure if the girl had seen her or not, Althea climbed back down to Thatcher.
   "No sign of fresh water," she muttered, pulling her sword out again.
   "We'll figure something out. There's always little puzzles," he reassured. She merely hummed in response.
   They resumed walking in the humid jungle for a few hours. The sun melted in the sky and eventually they found a large tree with a hollow in its base.
   "This is a good spot for tonight," Thatcher said. "Only one entrance."
   Althea nodded. The sun was lowering quickly on the horizon and they would need shelter soon.
   A rumbling growl interrupted them, coming from the hollow. Eight pairs of glowing green eyes opened, looking at the pair.
   "This can't be good," Thatcher muttered. The growl grew tenfold.
   "Run!" Althea yelled. She bolted, not really knowing where — just away from that thing. With Thatcher booking it at her side, they ran as fast as they could from the thundering steps behind them.
   A tentacle reached out and smashed a tree next to Althea, earning a scream.
   "Zig-zag!" Thatcher called to her. She dodged around trees and shrubs. Risking a glance behind her, she wished the hadn't looked. Large, spidery legs. Five tentacles and sharp teeth.
Something grabbed her arm and yanked her to the side. Thatcher forced her to change directions.
"What—" Althea was interrupted by an animalistic scream and a clap of electricity. "Thatcher, you genius—" the ground collapsed beneath her.
She hit a hard surface with a thud, the air rushing from her lungs and refusing to return. Pain flared in her back... well, in her everywhere.
"Althea?!" Thatcher yelled.
She huffed, trying to regain her breath.
"Althea!" Thatcher called again, more desperate this time.
"Thatcher," she forced out. "Thatcher." Stronger this time.
His face appeared in the hole above her. "Are you okay? I can't see you, it's too dark."
She sat up slowly. "Got the wind knocked out of me. Where is it?"
He whipped his head around. "Preoccupied. Move over," he ordered. She scooted over, feeling for her sword. She found it a few feet away and put it in its sheath.
Thatcher jumped down next to her.
"What are you doing?" She demanded. "I thought you were going to drop a vine or something. Now we're both stuck."
   Thatcher stared at her for a moment. "Fuck."
   The resounding smack that followed echoed in the cave.

a/n: hi babes. thatcher just had a big ol "no thoughts head empty" moment, but that's okay bc we love him.

how are y'all doing? sleeping okay? keeping hydrated? wearing ya masks when ya go out in public?

stay safe, ily
xoxo
hadley