thecapitol | Now I remember the joy and the meaning of the fate....

WHO| Kevin and YOU!
WHAT| Visitors have been removed, Kevin is really lost, and he's been TOLD alcohol helps with this....
WHEN| The evening after the arrest.
WHERE| A bar, where else?
WARNINGS| Everything that comes with Kevin. The chip in his neck is reprogramming him as he sits there, so he's going to be pretty weird. Also very drunk. Watch this space for updates.

Y'know, it was probably the serenity that stood out the most.

When his mother was taken, it was sudden. That wasn't as jarring as it could have been, all told. What WAS jarring was that serenity as she was taken...that grace, even as she was being handcuffed and led away from him after all these years.

It reminded him, unbidden, of another time he had forgotten. The feeling of restraints around his wrists, his throat raw from screaming out, his feet sore from being dragged across hot sand with no shoes - he couldn't hear his mother then, except perhaps a soft goodbye. She was serene then, too.

He didn't know if they were good memories or not.

Now he was doing something he had heard helped with this kind of thing...drinking. A lot. He was sitting at the bar, an array of empty glasses sitting in front of him, swaying on his stool. The sharp-eyed would notice a burn forming at the back of his neck, just under his hairline - from the inside.

He couldn't feel it anymore.

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Stephen knew that, under these circumstances, drinking was irresponsible.

If asked, Stephen would say that he was here looking for his wayward Tribute, and no, of course he wasn't tempted by the alcohol at all, ha ha, not while he was working!

He slid into the seat next to Kevin at the bar -- but not so close that he couldn't pull away if it looked like Kevin was reaching for his neck -- and looked sidelong at the row of glasses in front of Kevin. He whistled.

"Rough week, huh?"

The grinning man was so lost in his own reverie that he didn't even see Stephen approach. It wasn't until the whistle that he snapped to attention, the brightly-colored cocktail in his glass sloshing a bit onto the counter.

He blinked at Stephen. Then he just giggled.

"Wassit? Gosh, I'm jjjjjust...having some trouble rememb'ring."

Carefully, he put a hand on Kevin's shoulder -- gingerly, ready to yank it away at any sudden movement.

"Kevin," Stephen said, gently. "I think it's time to go home. Don't you?"

Kevin stared for a moment at Stephen, almost dumbly...and then when he spoke, it was with audible confusion.

"Home...?" A sway that almost knocked him off his stool. "You're l-letting me g't back to Desert Bluffs? I m'n, this place's great but I have sooooooooooo much work to catch up on...."

Something hits him, and his eyes widen.

"Wait. Who's b'n doing the radio if I've been here? Did - did th' comp'ny appoint someone? Innnnntern?"

"Oh, dear. No, not home, not yet. You're going back to the Tribute tower."

Stephen felt a twinge of guilt; he didn't mean to give Kevin false hope there.

"I'm sure they've gotten someone very competent to handle the radio while you were gone." He patted Kevin on the back of the shoulder.

"Oh."

Maybe there was a little disappointment there, but with a visible spark at the back of his neck, it was squashed. He smiled in a relaxed fashion, nodding his head a little bit.

"...'F course they did! I MEAN, IT IS Strexcorp Synin - Seneye - S'n'r'nst - it IS Strexcorp, they knooooow what they're doing. An' so do I. I'm asssolutely fine."

Stephen did a double take. Was the back of Kevin's neck sparking? Surreptitiously, Stephen tried to get a closer look.

"Of course you are," he said, craning his neck as casually as he possibly could, trying to get a glimpse under the professional button-up shirt collar. "But are you fine enough to walk by yourself?"

His neck absolutely had sparked. There was an angry-looking burn peeking out between his hair and his collar...something scorching the flesh from the inside. He didn't seem to notice.

"Why wouldn' I be? I'll b- I'll betcha I could walk 'nywher' noooooo problem!"

"I'm sure," said Stephen soothingly, as he stared at the burn in horror. "But it's never a bad thing to have a little help. How would you like to have some help walking back to the Tribute center?"

As he said this, Stephen had his communicator out, calling for a cab, a doctor to look at that burn, and at least two peacekeepers.

"'M not - m' not doooone yet here, Stephen!"

He took a healthy gulp from the drink he had in hand, stray liquid trickling from the edges of his mouth.

"Not tha' I dun...........apprec'te the offur."

Hooboy.

Stephen, gathering his courage, placed one hand on Kevin's wrist and gently tried to remove the drink with the other.

"Kevin, as your Escort and as a sober man, I really feel it would be best for you to come back."

Kevin's grip tightened on his drink - and his other hand clapped over Stephen's wrist, holding it...just a little too tight. Not necessarily on purpose - he's quite drunk and too strong for his own good - but there's something dangerous behind his slurred words.

"...Steph'n, ass yer Tribute - I'm fine.

Really."

Stephen hissed in a breath and winced -- and tried, gently, to tug his hand free. He stopped, though, as movement sent a lance of pain through it.

"All right," he said quickly. "All right, I'll leave you alone. Please let go of me."

"Okay!"

Obediently, Kevin did let go - acting like nothing had just happened, like there hadn't been anything dark and dour behind his strange smile. He sipped from his drink.

"Seeeee, I'm jus' fine. C'n hannle myself! Noooooo problem!"

Stephen, as surreptitiously as he could, checked his wrist and was dismayed to find a red mark blooming on the skin. He winced again, reassessing the situation.

As a Capitol citizen, he enjoyed a certain amount of privileges when it came to Tributes. One of those was that if a Tribute attacked him, that Tribute would be punished harshly. Stephen thought of Penny, and of what had happened to Guy, and his lips press into a thin line.

No, it was better to keep the Peacekeepers away from here. If they saw the mark on Stephen's wrist, they might conclude that Kevin had put it there, and that was a situation Stephen didn't want.

So, he stood, unsure if Kevin should be left alone, but certain that Kevin would be better off without him, and cancelled his call for Peacekeepers.

"Right," he said. "I can see that. Just -- try to stay out of trouble, all right? I'll see you back at the Tribute center."

On his way out, Stephen would pull the bartender aside, slip him a hundred assi, and ask him to make sure Kevin was taken care of.

"I-I will, Steph'n, I will. I promise! I...g'night."

And then he was left again to his reverie...fighting against the jolts and the burning and the feelings that the alcohol could not silence.

If you see something, say nothing.

And drink to forget.

Now I remember the joy and the meaning of the fate....

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