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PANDORA'S BOX
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PEETA REACTS FIRST. Dropping the sheath of his knife, he buries the blade into the monkey's back repeatedly, teeth gritted together with determination as he hacks at the animal until it releases its jaw. It falls lifelessly to the jungle floor. Ontari whirls back around and faces the onslaught around them, but the mutts simply stare at them with too-intelligent eyes.

"Come on, then! Come on!" Peeta goads them, voice filled with rage, but for what, Ontari can't tell. Not dying, his knife being caught in its sheath, or the fact that someone else had paid the ultimate sacrifice for them— again.

But the monkeys continue staring. Ontari's nostrils flare with a huff as she shifts her gaze from beast to beast, waiting to see which one will decide to strike first. To her surprise, they turn almost in perfect unison and begin swinging back the way they came. It's as if the death of the morphling has switched off their urge to kill.

Her brain begins to tick. Is someone going to have to die for each attack to stop?

Katniss' voice snaps her out of her momentary daze. "Get her. We'll cover you."

Peeta lifts the woman in his strong arms and carries her the last few yards of the forest until they hit the sand. Ontari's ever-careful eyes flicker from monkey to monkey as they retreat, barely daring to breathe until the last one is out of her sight. The area reeks of blood and fur and the carcasses at their feet. It's not a very good place to die.

Ontari slides her sword into its sheath on her belt and turns toward Peeta, who has laid the nameless woman in the sand. She feels a puncture of guilt for not knowing who she is. The morphlings' names have been lost with time, maybe even forgotten by their bearers as well.

Katniss moves like lightning. Quickly, she slices the front of the woman's jumpsuit, tearing the fabric to reveal the four deep gashes which are slowly leaking blood. Her breaths are shallow. They emerge from her cracked lips unsteadily and sound more like chokes than inhales, her brown eyes staring up at the sky as the rising sun spills colors across it. Her skin is sagging and tinted green from the years of overloading her frail body with medicine.

Those breaths, the position of those teeth marks. Ontari knows what it means from her time volunteering in Eight's hospital. "The fangs punctured a lung."

The woman grips Katniss' hand in a vice-like hold. Ontari tears her eyes away after seeing the grief and perplexion on Peeta's face. She hadn't known that others were involved in the alliance. If Finnick knew, his face doesn't show it. He has carefully masked his face as much as she has covered her own.

Ontari pivots until she's facing the bloodbath behind them, such a stark contrast to the achingly beautiful sky she'd just been looking at. She'd momentarily forgotten about the stench surrounding them. Her nose wrinkles, stomach turning.

"We'll watch the trees," Finnick murmurs almost inaudible as he, too, turns around and faces the jungle.

The raven-haired girl wordlessly picks over the fallen monkeys until she reaches Peeta's discarded sheath. Grabbing it, she stores it away in the compartment in her belt before straightening at a rustle from beside her. Finnick is retrieving Katniss' arrows. Ontari notes with admiration that they'd nearly all hit their marks— only a few litter the ground. As Finnick wrenches the bloody ones out of the bodies with sickening thunks, she focuses on picking up the ones in the dirt.

Even though Peeta is several yards away, she still hears his peaceful words to the morphling dying on the sand. "With my paint box at home, I can make every color imaginable. Pink. As pale as a baby's skin. Or as deep as a rhubarb. Green like spring grass. Blue that shimmers like ice on water. One time, I spent three days mixing paint until I found the right shade for sunlight on white fur. You see, I kept thinking it was yellow, but it was much more than that. Layers of all sorts of colors. One by one. I haven't figured out a rainbow yet. They come so quickly and leave so soon. I never have time to capture them. Just a bit of blue here or purple there. And then they fade away again. Back into the air."

There's a pause. Ontari presses her lips into a thin, hard line as she ponders Peeta's words. They seem so trivial, but they've provided something to distract the morphling from her mortal wounds. Her gasping has quieted. An ironically peaceful moment later, the cannon blows.

Ontari remembers when that sound used to make her jump. During her first Games, she'd dreaded hearing that echoing boom across the arena, knowing that each time it blew it meant she was one step closer to death. Now it has become normalcy. It doesn't surprise her.

Maybe the morphling had wanted this. Wanted death rather than live with her addiction. Either way, she'd died to make way for a better world, died with hope running through her veins.

Just as Mags had done. Ontari glances at Finnick as she snatches another arrow, but she cannot read his face. He's blocking her out. She doesn't mind— he needs this time to himself. To stitch himself back up. They're like rag dolls, the two of them, with too many rips to count. They just keep sewing the gashes up until they're a patchwork of invisible scars.

Ontari is silent as she returns to the beach. The hovercraft is just beginning to retreat, having picked up the morphling's body from where Peeta had let it drift afloat in the water. It disappears moments later as it slips through the force field.

She swallows before dropping a fistful of arrows by Katniss' side. Finnick dumps the ones covered in blood as well. "Thought you might want these," he says.

"Thanks," Katniss replies halfheartedly. She carries them into the water with her so she can wash the blood and gore off of herself and her weapons.

Ontari opens the compartment in her belt where she'd stowed Peeta's sheath. Removing it, she holds it carefully in her hand as she approaches the blond boy with a tenderness she doesn't let many people see— on television, that is. The younger victor doesn't move his eyes from the sunrise as she crouches down beside him.

"Here," she says after a beat of silence, keeping her voice soft. She offers the sheath to him. Peeta hesitates, his mouth forming a grim line. He's likely thinking about the life that the sheath had cost. She doesn't rush him, instead waiting patiently until he's ready to accept it. He slides the bloodied knife into its protective covering and sends a few crimson droplets flying in the process. "That was a beautiful thing you did with the morphling. I'm sure she appreciated it. You made a difference in her last moments of life— that's something that shouldn't be overlooked."

He doesn't look at her, blue eyes seeming to bounce anywhere but at her. As if meeting her gaze will make this real. "I just want to know why she did it. Why she just— jumped with no hesitation. Why... why me?" When Ontari schools her reaction into neutrality instead of the ache she feels inside at his inquiry, he continues. "I just figured... at least she shouldn't die miserable. She probably hadn't been talked to like that in forever."

He's probably right. Ontari cannot recall a time when she'd spoken to the morphlings, or seen them engaging in conversations themselves.

Peeta slides the sheathed knife into a holster on his belt with a firm shink. "Anyway, it's over."

Ontari knows that dismissal well. It's anything but over, though she'll allow Peeta to pretend that it is. For his sake.

"Guys." Finnick's confused voice has her turning around in an instant. He's staring at the spot where dozens of monkey carcasses had lain only moments ago, only now, there's nothing but clean, jungle floor. It's as if they'd vanished into thin air along with every trace of them. Not a speck of blood or tuff of fur mars the dirt.

As if sensing the sudden shift, Katniss climbs out of the water and glances at what they're all staring at. "What happened?"

"We're not quite sure," Finnick admits with a far too nonchalant shrug as if to say, One less problem to deal with. "The vines shifted and they were gone."

"Good," Ontari says, pushing herself to her feet. Any trace of the gentle tone she'd donned earlier with Peeta is gone. Instead, she's adapted a mask of boredom. "Those things smelled like shit. Anyone up for more water? I'm thirsty."

-:-

They decide to rest before the sun fully rises. Finnick volunteers to take watch, and Ontari's heart gives a painful squeeze knowing there's nothing she can do to ease the suffering in his eyes. The loss of Mags will haunt him forever.

Peeta is out the instant his head hits the sand. Katniss takes longer to fall asleep, but soon, her breaths even out into a steady rhythm. Ontari is not as lucky. Although her eyelids ache from lack of proper sleep through the night and pure exhaustion, her mind won't quiet down.

She peels open her eyes when she hears a splash from the water nearby. Finnick yanks his trident out of the water, prying a wriggling fish from the points of his weapon and flinging it onto the shore. He resumes a hunter's stance. There's not even a ripple of movement around him as he waits, then slams his trident into the water once more. He's trying to block the haunting thoughts out of his mind by keeping himself busy.

Ontari drifts off within minutes, but her slumber is not kind. She dreams she's trapped within the Capitol. Not just the city— but President Snow's building itself. No matter where she runs, he appears, nothing human in those snake-like blue eyes. The sickeningly sweet stench of roses nearly drives her mad as she sprints through the mansion. The walls turn in on her, hallways repeating, some leading to dead ends. But he is everywhere. His cackle follows her even when she doesn't see him. Despite the fact he doesn't speak, merely giving her an all-knowing grin, the message is still clear. You're never going to be free from me.

She jolts awake at the feeling of a hand covering her mouth. Instantly, she transitions into defensive mode, unsheathing a small knife from her belt and tackling the attacker into the sand within nanoseconds. The blade presses into the person's neck enough to move the skin. She snarls, the sound not entirely human, as her face inches closer to observe them.

And blinks when the nightmare drifts from her vision, revealing a very startled Katniss Everdeen beneath her.

Ontari instantly drops the knife onto the sand and climbs off of her. Her chest feels cold. She sits, tucking her knees into her chest and burying her trembling hands into her still-damp hair. Her fingernails scrape at her scalp as she tugs at the roots. Pain. Pain makes you human— pain grounds you.

"I'm sorry," she says to Katniss, the words barely a whisper. The Girl on Fire merely nods mutely and rises from the ground. To Ontari's surprise, a hand appears before her. Her eyes trail up the arm to see the face of Katniss Everdeen and the gleam in her gray eyes that almost seems like understanding. She accepts the offer for help and allows the crutch to get her to her feet.

Nightmares— something every victor can empathize with.

Ontari rubs at her tired eyes and notices that Peeta is still passed out. It's a good thing, too; he'd gotten the worst of the fog, so he needs all the rest he can get for his body to fully heal. He looks peaceful as he lays on the sand: the Capitol's Golden Boy. She can see how he fits that mold.

"You were about to start screaming," Katniss states. It takes Ontari a moment to realize that she's explaining why her hand was on her mouth, then nods to show she's listening. "I didn't want anyone to be alerted."

"Good call," the raven-haired girl agrees, but without her usual tone of confidence. Maybe there isn't a need for such potent masks anymore— not when her true form will always reveal itself during sleep. "Thanks."

Finnick prevents Katniss from making any potential response as he appears with a handmade bowl woven from grass and filled with grilled fish. How he'd managed to filet them in such a short time is beyond her comprehension. His eyes are puffy, and while Katniss pretends not to notice, Ontari takes a bit of fish and motions for him to sit beside her.

"She was not afraid," she says quietly, speaking gently as to not poke any rough spots. "She knew the risk she was taking."

Finnick clamps his lips together so tightly they turn white. After a moment, he releases a sharp breath through his mouth, shoulders slumping with the force of it. "I know. I just wish..."

Wish it had never happened. Wish we all could have gotten out of there alive.

Ontari hovers her hand over his as a silent question. When he doesn't jerk away and just as voicelessly accepts her invitation to touch him, she takes his hand and brings it up to her lips. She kisses the back of it. "Me too. Is... Is there anything I can do?"

Finnick's lip quirks upward into a grin as he lifts his face up to meet her gaze. "Try to stay alive?"

Ontari detects the hidden plea in his voice, but keeps her tone lighthearted even as she blinks tears from her eyes. "I'll do my best."

The look on Mags' face as she'd gazed at Ontari, the utter adoration in her face... she wonders what the elderly woman's expression had been as she'd looked at Finnick. Her grandson not by blood but by a family they'd built all on their own. A source of light in a dark world that had not been kind to her.

After a moment of silence, Katniss abruptly announces, "I'm going to wake Peeta."

"No, wait," Finnick blurts. The girl freezes in response as he sets the basket of fish aside and hauls himself to his feet. "Let's do it together. Put our faces right in front of his."

A bit of humor in a cruel place. Ontari would give anything for that fleeting bit of laughter she'd experienced when they'd gathered the nuts and she'd tossed one into Finnick's mouth before the fog. Despite the fact it makes guilt pool in her gut, she thinks she could use some of that medicine.

The three tributes gather in front of the sleeping blond. He doesn't snore, his breaths coming out of his mouth silently; not in a peaceful way, but... as if he's used to keeping quiet. A warning bell sounds in her head, but she's given no time to dwell on this fact because Katniss speaks.

"Peeta," she half-sings just softly enough to rouse him from his slumber. "Peeta, wake up."

He flutters his eyelids, which immediately widen at the sight of the three faces leering inches from his face. A sudden jolt back causes him to nearly hit his head on the sand. "Aah!"

Katniss, Finnick, and Ontari erupt into a fit of laughter at his expression of shock. Finnick even topples over onto his back. It makes a rare pulse of joy worm its way into Ontari's heart. She knows how much he needs this giggle— and maybe realizes how much she does, too.

She still has a hint of a smile on her face when the familiar tune of a falling parachute meets her ears. Her head tilting toward the sky, she catches sight of the metal container as it floats slowly toward the ground. Ontari grabs it mid-air. Inside is a loaf of bread, tinted green as the bread from District Four always is from the seaweed within, and still steaming. Her mouth instantly waters.

"Give me that." Finnick playfully snatches the loaf from her hands, but the possession on his face is real. "I earned you all that. You're welcome. This will go well with the fish."

The group of four sits with their weapons within easy reach as they consume their meal. Finnick's eyes are closed as he blindly reaches for his portion of the food. Ontari wonders if it's because he's trying to trick his brain. With his eyes closed, the taste of the bread and fish, the tang of salt in the air, the sound of the waves lapping against the shore, and with Ontari sitting next to him, he could convince himself he's back home.

A pang hits her gut. After this, they may never see home again.

Their meal is interrupted by a cannon that blows. A hovercraft materializes and plucks a body from the trees. Ontari can't determine any physical features because it's a fair distance away, but something drips off of the corpse that's too dark to be water.

She tightens her grip on her sword. Her instincts send a message to her brain, and rightfully so, because four figures emerge from the jungle and stumble onto the beach. Two are carrying one body between them, but are dangerously close to falling themselves. The final one walks in loopy circles. They look to be a solid brick-red color, as if they've been covered in paint. Her eyebrows crease.

Nobody in her group moves. With them so close to the treeline, they shouldn't be visible unless they draw immediate attention to themselves.

"Who is that?" Peeta whispers. "Or what? Muttations?"

The two figures set the seemingly injured one on the sand. Immediately, the shorter one violently shoves the person walking in circles so they go toppling to the ground. The fourth, a tall, hulking, muscled creature, shoves the other one back.

Ontari barely has any breath in her lungs when she replies, "Those aren't mutts."

It clicks in Finnick's brain as well. Katniss and Peeta merely look confused at their revelation, but Ontari would recognize her brother anywhere.

She doesn't give a damn who's listening when she shouts, "Cassian!"

His head snaps up in her direction. But she's already running so fast her surroundings are nothing more than streaks of color, flinging her sword aside just before she crashes into his arms. Cassian staggers back at the force of the impact. He embraces her back just as tightly. Whatever he's covered in instantly soaks through her jumpsuit and into her skin, but she doesn't have the energy to care. The only thing that matters is that her baby brother is alive.

"O-Ontari." Cassian's voice is soft and filled with disbelief, whispering her name like she's an answered prayer. She has to choke back her tears as she releases him and finally takes a good look at his face.

Only to reel back in shock. "What the hell happened to you?"

Her blue eyes dart to his companions. Johanna's short hair is plastered onto her neck with the red substance, a scowl set so deeply onto her face that she looks like Wrath incarnate. She and Cassian had been carrying Beetee, who lays on his back on the sand, groaning. Wiress resumes her aimless circles.

"We thought it was rain, you know, because of the lightning," Johanna explains in a voice tinged with outrage. "We were all so thirsty. But when it started coming down, it turned out to be blood. Thick, hot blood. You couldn't see, you couldn't speak without getting a mouthful. We just staggered around, trying to get out of it." She swallows, hiding her crimson-stained teeth for a moment. "That's when Blight hit the force field."

"I'm sorry, Johanna," Finnick says gently, the sorrow in his voice genuine. He must have run up behind Ontari, Katniss and Peeta tagging along like slightly lost puppies.

"Yeah, well, he wasn't much, but he was from home," Johanna sighs. Her unspoken words still echo to Ontari and Finnick. And he was part of the alliance. "And he left Cassian and I with these two." She nudges a half-conscious Beetee with her shoe. "He got a knife in the back at the Cornucopia. And her—"

Ontari's attention turns to Wiress, who's still staggering around in those circles, muttering, "Tick, tock. Tick, tock."

"Yeah, we know. Tick, tock!" Johanna sneers. "Nuts is in shock."

As if this had drawn Wiress out of her trance, she suddenly flings herself at the blood-soaked girl, who shoves her back with all her might. Katniss straightens with a hard expression. "Lay off her."

Johanna narrows her eyes, the whites of them the only part of her not covered in red. "Lay off her? Who do you think got them out of that bleeding jungle for you? You—" Before she can continue, Finnick slings her over his shoulder and wordlessly carries the still-screaming woman toward the ocean. Not even the water can drown out her foul-mouthed insults as he holds her under to get her clean.

Ontari, used to this behavior of hers and therefore unfazed, turns to her brother. "You okay?"

"Yeah," he replies somberly, hazel eyes flickering with something she can't detect. "Just need to wa—" His eyes go wide as his breath suddenly gets caught in his throat. No, Ontari realizes as he makes a choking sound and slams a hand onto his stomach, it's not his breath.

She takes a step back just as he falls to his knees and vomits blood onto the pearly-white sand.

Johanna is still shouting from where Finnick is continuously dunking her, but the threats have lost some of their venom. The water around them is tinted red. Some of Johanna's skin is now showing, which means that it isn't too difficult to wash off.

Once Cassian stops hurling his guts up from the blood he'd accidentally swallowed, she grabs his arm and slings it over her shoulder so he can stand. "Come on, Cas."

Together, they walk toward the saltwater. Cassian plops himself into it the instant his nylon shoes touch the water. Then he lays back, allowing the tide to soak him for a moment, and Ontari's lip quirks. He's unknowingly mimicking her action when she'd done that only hours beforehand.

She scrubs at the blood coating her jumpsuit and hands from when she'd hugged him. From behind her, she can hear Johanna muttering to herself as she wrings out her shoulder-length hair.

"It's good to see you, Ontari," she says, and the honest words cause the raven-haired girl to turn around in surprise. "Now I finally have some sense around here."

Cassian glares lasers in her direction as he tugs the jumpsuit down to his waist. The muscled skin underneath is tinted a light pink, causing Ontari to cringe as she tries to guess what it was like to be under the weight of so much blood. He has yet to wash his hair, so the sun tints the usually-black strands a very dark red. The gold pendant around his neck, his token of the Golden Alliance, catches the light. She twirls the ring on her finger anxiously.

"Little privacy, please," he huffs. Ontari, Finnick, and Johanna turn away from him, but not before the District Seven tribute sticks her tongue out at him.

Ontari gazes back at her discarded sword on the sand and trudges through the water to retrieve it. Johanna's screaming may attract some unwanted attention, and even though they've been incredibly lucky not to run into any of their human enemies, that doesn't mean their luck won't run out soon.

Katniss and Peeta are helping Wiress and Beetee back at their camp. Beetee appears to be lying motionless on top of a grass mat Finnick had made, Katniss tending to his knife wound with Baker Boy assisting her. Wiress, for once, sits still, hugging her thin arms close to her chest near the water.

Ontari turns back toward the jungle and squints her eyes at it before making her way back to their campsite. She stays well out of Katniss' way as she makes some sort of poultice to temporarily heal the laceration in Beetee's back, face pinched in concentration.

After a while, Johanna begrudgingly joins them and stuffs her face with bread and fish. Ontari wonders if they'd been able to get any food since the Quell began. Cassian knows how to hunt, but the few animals here don't seem to be native to District Eight. Finnick returns with her newly-cleaned brother in tow. Cassian slumps onto the sand, competing with Johanna with how quickly he devours the food.

As they fill themselves, Finnick recalls the story of the fog and monkeys in a detached, emotionless tone. Johanna's gaze flickers to meet Ontari's in question. There's no way she hasn't noticed that they're also missing a member of their group. She doesn't outright ask it, noticing the despondency in Finnick's eyes, but Ontari knows that she'll get the information out of someone.

Ontari, Johanna, and Katniss are the ones who wind up watching guard. Now that their group is bigger, there's a need for more people to be awake. And, though she hates to admit it, part of the reason Ontari stays awake is that she doesn't want to accidentally kill one of her allies if they wake her from a nightmare.

She boredly cleans the blood and dirt from under her nails with a knife as the other two women quietly converse. Her brother sleeps close by her feet, curled into himself until he's tucked his body into a tight ball. Relief floods her. She's so glad he's alive, if not more traumatized from what he's endured. Nobody from their group had told the story of what had happened before the blood rain. Maybe she'll ask him later.

Ontari glances at Katniss when she feels her eyes on her. The girl has an unreadable expression in her gray eyes. That's what's so damn difficult about being allies with Katniss— she's always so hard to figure out. One moment, she'll be sympathizing with her nightmares, and the next...

She tears her gaze away from the Girl on Fire's just as Wiress begins mumbling, "Tick, tock."

"Oh, goody, she's back," Johanna drawls. "Okay, I'm going to sleep. You, Tari, and Nuts can guard together."

Ontari gives a jolt at the nickname; she hasn't heard it pass Johanna's lips in a long time. But she doesn't seem to notice anything as she lays on the sand with one hand curled around her beloved ax.

"Tick, tock," Wiress repeats. "Tick, tock."

Katniss moves with surprising gentleness when she guides the older woman over and gets her to lie back down. She strokes her frail arm soothingly, agreeing, "Tick, tock. It's time for bed. Tick, tock. Go to sleep."

And she does. Ontari doesn't dare speak lest she disturbs the sudden peace. The sun blazes over the arena, making her grateful they're in the shade so the sand isn't scorching. Across the water, lightning strikes that unusually tall tree that pokes over all of the others. She counts them as they flash. Twelve. It's noon.

"Tick, tock," Wiress murmurs before drifting back to sleep.

Katniss' eyes dart back to Ontari's, and the panic in them causes the former to straighten up, twirling the knife in her hand until the blade is poised to stab. But it's not alarm because of a physical threat. Ontari watches the gears turn in Katniss' head as she slowly turns toward the towering tree. The next part, where the four tributes had emerged from the blood rain. This part. Monkeys.

"Tick, tock," Wiress says again in her sleep. Normally, Ontari wouldn't heed her senseless rambling, but now...

Katniss jolts. "Ontari. Tick, tock." Her braid whips over one shoulder with the force of her turn. "Tick, tock. This is a clock."

_______

this update took a while, but thank god it's up. it'll probably be my last update of 2018, so the next time you read about ontari & co, it'll be 2019! i hope you all had wonderful holidays if you celebrated any

also, please remember to leave a quick comment telling me what you think! they really do encourage me to write, and the lack of them on the last chapter is a little disheartening (not trying to sound thirsty, but being so proud of an update only to get 10 comments from readers doesn't make me feel too good)

—kristyn