Dying golden light shimmered as it reflected off the several feet of newly laid-out snow. Roasted potatoes, herb-seasoned vegetables, and chicken-scented air wafted through the otherwise stale library. The walls wore varnished rows of wood shelves. Every inch was covered in a quilt of books in all shapes, densities, and colors. Burnt orange leather chairs were clustered about.

The room was like something out of a fairy tale, albeit highly under-utilized since the family had moved in. Hazel sunk further into the chair in which she was currently trapped, breathing in the familiar scents, hoping they would calm the nervousness tickling her limbs. While the chair was comfortable, the elegant clothes Indira had practically forced her into were anything but.

Festus Creed idled past the rows of books, running a finger over their spines. A dull thrum filled the air as he walked.

"Festus," Indira called, arms crossed, "Can you stop that?"

His curly hair bounced as he sighed like a kid waiting for his parents to be done with grocery shopping, "How long is this going to take?"

"Not much longer, Mr. Creed." Dr. Calyx replied, "Maybe grab one of those to read while you wait."

Festus scowled at the books like they were sour milk on his tongue.

Indira gestured to an open seat, "Or at least just sit down and stop fidgeting."

"I don't understand why this is necessary. You two were out here barely a couple of weeks ago, and she looks..." Festus scanned her face, squinting his eyes a bit, "Well tired, but no worse for the wear."

"I would have asked for you to visit sooner if I knew you'd be handing out compliments," Hazel mumbled.

Festus smirked and pushed away from using the books as a makeshift xylophone. He sunk into the seat nearest to her. "You missed me, don't pretend."

Hazel sent him a lopsided smirk. Surprisingly, she had. She'd missed them both. While they were living and breathing reminders of the worst experience of her life, she felt bonded to them in a way.

"Mr. Creed, I assure you our visit is absolutely necessary as well as mandatory." Dr. Savi brought Hazel's bare left palm closer to his face. His knowledgeable eyes were bug-like behind a pair of black spectacles. His lips crinkled but not into a smile but something more similar to disappointment. "Looks like healing is not progressing as much as I would like." Hazel fought to hold herself still under his highly focused scrutiny.

"I've been trying to tell her, doc," Sable mumbled from the doorway.

Hazel scooted even deeper into the too-soft chair. The library should've been a peaceful room, but at that moment, it was more like a nicely decorated, dinner-scented exhibit case. Indira, Festus, Sable, and Leo formed the haphazard audience, watching the doctors' work.

"He just doesn't like running," Hazel muttered as she stared down at the gash. The stitches were gone, and pale, silvery scar tissue skirted the wound's edges. However, the center remained an angry pink. Slight circular bruises littered the surrounding skin, and several drops of blood were peeking out of the open areas.

"You need to take better care of this." Dr. Savi released her hand as he began to dig through his bag. "Let it heal."

"Exactly," Sable replied with a smirk. Hazel narrowed her eyes at him.

"Is it infected, doctor?" Indira inquired, her deep yet warm voice relaxed Hazel a bit.

"Not right now." Dr. Savi didn't look up as he laid out the various bandage items on the table next to Hazel.

"Then why is it not healing?" Festus asked with a tilt of his head.

Dr. Savi met Hazel's eyes, "Overuse, most likely."

"You haven't been like chopping wood," Festus asked. "Or whatever it is you guys do out here, have you?"

Hazel shook her head, and a pang of nostalgia shot through her, "I wish."

"It's all that godforsaken running." Sable pointed down at her feet, "While you are at it, you should check the left ankle."

"It's fine." Hazel shifted her feet backward until her heels bumped against the chair's footrests.

Dr. Savi paused, peering over his glasses at Hazel's feet, "Did you twist it again?

"No." Hazel swallowed.

Dr. Savi gestured to the younger doctor, "Take a look, Calyx."

The younger doctor crouched dutifully, raising the bottom portion of her pant leg.

Bathed in the warm light of the library, it was obvious, even to the untrained eye, that her ankle wasn't fine. It was puffy and a pale lavender color. Hazel failed to hold back a wince as Dr. Calyx manipulated the joint.

"Hmmm, I see what you mean, Private Pytash." Dr. Calyx murmured.

"He's right. You need to avoid aggravating it anymore." Dr. Savi concluded, looking back up at her. "I mean it this time. No more running or vigorous exercise."

Sable leaned against a bookshelf, breaking into a relieved grin. "What a shame."

"For how long?" Hazel questioned.

"I would say no strenuous activity for at least three weeks." Dr. Savi pulled a pair of black nitrile gloves from his bag, stretching them over his fingers with a plasticky snap.

"Thank you, doc." Sable smiled widely as he met Hazel's more than annoyed glare.

"Well, you won't have to worry about that during the tour, anyways," Festus interjected, a glint hovering in his eye. "With all the food, parties, and celebrating. Won't have time for much exercise."

Hazel's stomach churned at the idea. She would rather run fifty miles on a bum ankle.

"Festus, it's not all celebration. There are the families of the fallen and the speeches, of course." Indira replied, apparently trying to curb Festus' enthusiasm with a tad of realistic expectations.

Hazel's stomach acid was on the verge of boiling, and the smell of dinner started to make her feel nauseated.

"Don't worry, dear." Indira's face was soft and understanding. "The speeches have already been written."

Hazel bit her lip as Dr. Savi ran a square of cold, wet gauze over her sensitive wound. "Figures it's all mapped out, just like everything else."

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

Festus and Indira stiffened at the comment, sharing an uncomfortable exchange without words. Hazel didn't quite mean for it to come out as harshly as it had. The last few hours had been a tense whirlwind of introductions between them and her family, as well as a much-needed shower and, finally, the torturous assessments of the Capitol doctors. The three didn't have much time to discuss what Hazel had learned about her role in her Games or ask about their knowledge of her so-called victory.

"Well, we always welcome your input, of course," Indira murmured.

Hazel wondered how much input the Capitol would allow as she brushed her thumb over her newly cleansed wound.

Dr. Savi let out a disapproving grunt and flicked the errant appendage away. "I need some privacy with my patient. I promise it won't take long."

Sable clapped his hands together. "You all heard the man. It's time to let the doctors do their jobs. Everyone out."

Indira and Festus moved to the door on command, followed by Sable, but Leo lingered. Sable whispered to him, which Leo acknowledged with a barely perceptible nod.

Dr. Calyx appeared to notice Leo's reluctance. "We will have her right out, Private Drayton."

Leo met Hazel's gaze, and she did her best to appear unbothered as she signaled her approval for him to leave. He relented and slid out of the room.

Hazel sighed, and her shoulders relaxed as Dr. Calyx closed the door behind the group. While she wasn't the biggest fan of doctors, she was thankful for the respite from so many watchful, scrutinizing eyes.

"Hold still, Miss." Dr. Savi began to cleanse her skin once again. The chill of the wet gauze centered her, and she welcomed the dull sting of the liquid over the more sensitive areas of her wound. "Now that we have some privacy, I wanted to ask you about the hallucinations."

Whatever tension that had dissipated from Hazel's body at the awkward audience leaving immediately returned. "What about them?"

"Have you had any more since we saw you last?" Dr. Savi placed a thick absorbent pad over her palm.

Yes.

"No." Hazel hoped her tone came across as convincing, but she thought it sounded unsteady even to her ears.

"Really?" Dr. Calyx asked, studying her more closely.

"Really." Hazel didn't look up at him but kept her stare fixed on his work.

Dr. Savi's fingers paused over the pulse point in her wrist as he secured the bandage with a roll of gauze. "And nightmares?"

"Sometimes," Hazel muttered.

"Hmm, that is what I thought." The doctor continued as he held her injured hand in his, "As I said, you haven't been taking care of this or yourself overall. If anything, you've only given yourself new injuries while sabotaging the healing of the ones you already have..."

Dr. Calyx added, "If you don't start taking care of yourself, your hand could become infected."

Dr. Savi continued where his colleague left off, "Even worse, the hallucinations are likely to return—and if they do, the lines between them and reality may blend to a degree you won't be able to determine the difference. And it may not just be seeing an imaginary dead woman running through the forest next time."

She couldn't deny the truth in his words. Pulling her stare away from the two men, she let it drop back to her hands. Both were still clean. No stains or mysterious blood had formed. Not again, at least.

"Your reaction to all that you have been through is understandable, common even among those who have lived through similar experiences," Dr. Calyx said.

"But you need to decide if you are going to let this freeze the progress of your life. It is up to you what happens from here." Dr. Savi advised.

It seemed like very little was up to her anymore. "Do you two give this lecture to all the victors?"

Dr. Savi shook his head in the negative. "No." He dug through the bag near his feet, frowning.

Dr. Calyx paused before meeting her eyes, "We were specially assigned to you. You've garnered much attention, and the Capitol wants to make sure you are in decent condition when the tour begins."

"How considerate." Hazel stared down at her loosely bandaged hand. It did feel significantly better now that it was clean. Even more so that it was covered with a fresh, non-sweat-soaked bandage.

Dr. Savi's wrinkled forehead deepened as he raked his fingers through his bag, pulling open various pockets. He suddenly rose, "Give me one moment; I seem to have left my tape in the other room." With that, the older doctor removed himself, shutting the door behind him.

Dr. Calyx stiffened as the click of the latch filled the library. Hazel frowned up at the jittery man before her. Was he still scared of her?

His eyes fell to her hand, and his voice grew soft like the piles of fresh powder outside, "It's uncanny how similar your injury is to.... your brother's."

Hazel dropped her eyes from the doctor, stretching her fingers. "We always did things together."

"The stitching was impressive, you know."

Was he really complimenting her?

"Is that why you aren't letting it heal?"

Hazel's eyes shot back up to the man peering down at her. Something about his observation shook her; she had to remind herself that it was his job to be perceptive. Hazel's voice sounded like it was buried beneath the mountains of snow outside, "He should be here."

Dr. Calyx shuffled on his feet, "Punishing yourself isn't going to change that."

Hazel fixed her stare on the dipping sun, watching the colors singe the sky in shades of deep orange and magenta. It was as if her very soul was urging her to heed the doctor's wisdom. Oddly, the voice in her head sounded a lot like her favorite uncle's. But that didn't change her feelings. Knowing what she was supposed to feel didn't mean she actually did.

"I think you would be surprised at how many people are pleased that you are alive." Dr. Calyx whispered, still staring at the closed door. The man swallowed, tapping his fingers against his pockets, "Miss, can I ask a favor?"

"Doctor?"

Dr. Calyx paused for a moment before reaching into his pockets with both hands. He pulled them out, holding a thick, rectangular card that was small enough to fit easily in his palm. In his other hand, he held a metallic black marker.

"Um...my daughter... Would you mind signing this for her?" He eyed her bandage, "With your... your good hand, of course."

He extended the items toward her. Hazel reached for the peculiar-looking card and took it from him. The hairs on the back of her neck tingled at the image staring back up at her. It was her own face. Her bright green eyes were stern but determined, not a hair out of place. She was standing in a glowing redwood forest, a vicious black axe in each hand, the Victor's medal was around her neck and a golden rose tucked behind her ear. The image was an uncanny mix of reality and manipulation. Along the bottom edge, it read: "Hazel Johanna Marlowe. District Seven. Victor: 15th Annual Hunger Games." A reflective golden sheen outlined the border of the cardstock.

"What is this?" Hazel coughed.

"A collector's card," he explained. "They are very popular in the Capitol... Especially the Victor's editions."

Hazel hardly recognized the girl looking back at her. It was as if she were some kind of character in a fantasy, a hero in a bedtime story. She turned the object over in her hands, noting the glossy finish and its substantial weight. The creator was quite skilled, but she was no heroine, and none of it reflected reality. It was all just a fabricated tale without a happy ending.

Dr. Calyx swept the card from her before she had a chance to react, whispering, "Maybe another time."

Hazel watched him squirm away from her and pocket the items as Dr. Savi re-entered the room. A thick roll of tape was in one of his hands, and a translucent orange-tinted bottle with a white cap, brimming with green and yellow capsules, was in the other, "The tour will be overwhelming. Your popularity means the crowds will be large and the pressure immense. And nightmares will exacerbate the issue. I recommend taking medication to help you sleep."

Hazel pursed her lips, "No, thank you. I'm fine."

"If you don't let your mind heal, or your body for that matter, your physical and mental health will continue to deteriorate."

Hazel nodded, "Understood." She eyed the bottle in his hands, shivering at the memory of the little purple pills that had wreaked so much havoc before the games.

Dr. Calyx and Dr. Savi exchanged glances before Dr. Savi sighed, putting the bottle in her good hand, "If you change your mind."

Hazel wanted to protest but instead resolved to secretly flush them down the toilet later when no one was looking.

Dr. Savi quickly taped down the loose edges of her bandage. "Take one every twelve hours and nothing more. And don't mix them with alcohol."

"Not going to be a problem," Hazel murmured.

"Have you changed your mind about a counselor?" He turned her hand over in his, inspecting his work.

Hazel sighed; he had tried to convince her to allow one to treat her during his last visit.

"No."

The older doctor hummed, removing his glasses and tucking them away as he released her. "It would be highly beneficial."

She had enough Capitol staff involved in her personal life as it was. "You said it is up to me, right?" Hazel met the older man's eyes, "I will let you know if I change my mind."

Neither of the doctors protested as they began to pack up their belongings. Dr. Calyx brushed his fingers subtly over his pockets, refusing to meet her eyes.

Just as Dr. Savi was zipping closed his leather bag, the door to the library opened, and Leo pushed through the threshold; his face was a solid mask of professionalism.

"We are about done, just wrapping up, Private Drayton."

Leo cleared his throat as he searched the room and the two doctors before his attention settled on Hazel. "The Senator has arrived for dinner."