It had been four days since he spoke with Captain Ryker and the same number of days since he had left his apartment.

Asher sat on the concrete floor of his apartment balcony, the sliding glass door left open and legs hanging off the ledge between the metal fence, keeping him inside. The cold evening wind ruffled his hair as he watched the busy flow of people several stories below him, all celebrating the start of the weekend.

He puffed out his cheeks with a sigh as he crumpled up his last canned drink, tossing it aside to add to the collection he had accumulated in the corner. He had been nearly cemented in this position, watching the sun rise and fall with each day, and barely sleeping at night. Instead, he'd search the starry sky for Garrick helicopters or watch the flashing lights of the Capitol in the distance.

The abrupt change had shaken him to his core. The first two days he had been a mess of pure fury, yelling at nothing and breaking various items around his apartment, making an absolute mess. He had been incapable of standing still or sitting down, roaming aimlessly around his home, thoughts of running away, or ending it all circling his mind.

Eventually, the anger dissipated, only surfacing in small bursts, but now he was entirely numb. He had expelled all his emotional energy and was now an empty shell trying to process the harsh realities of his new future.

"I'm doing the Trial," Asher mumbled to himself in a hoarse voice, testing the words on his tongue.

His brow furrowed, fists clenching at the words out of reflex, but quickly relaxed as he forced himself to accept them. This internal battle was exhausting and had brought upon another one of his migraines.

His future had been decided for him by the very people he detested the most. People who had no respect for the weak, saw no value in life unless it was fit for their need to increase intellectual power or Garrick strength. He still couldn't understand what they saw in him.

Asher had seen their antics in his village many times, and it always disgusted him. He had watched as those who had been forcefully recruited, like him, had been dragged from their homes and families by heartless Capitol officials. He had intervened once when they were taking a rather young child away from his family to be thrown into training for the Trial, and it had ended with Maggie healing several severe wounds and the boy still being dragged away in tears.

It didn't matter how young or old you were, what you did, or didn't want. If the Capitol finds out you're useful, they take you. You can try to hide, say you're weak and unable to participate in the Trial, but if someone knows otherwise and they are found keeping your secret, you'll both suffer severe consequences. The valuable always get snuffed out, and sometimes they take others down with them.

Frankly, you can't hide anything from the Capitol. It's not uncommon to see officials raiding homes for supplies or money, especially on the brink of war as they had been for what seemed like forever. Villagers barely had enough for themselves, much less enough to share with the Capitol. There were many nights over the years he and Maggie had gone hungry because of them until they met the others, Capitol kids who were lucky and unaffected in their separate living units. That's right, the Capitol doesn't raid the homes of their people.

The sound of laughing caught his attention below, his eyes roaming over the crowd until they landed on a group of small children, amusing themselves with a game of sorts. Asher smiled, happy to see evidence of blissful ignorance of the horrible aspects of village life. They were too young to know better. He wished they didn't have to learn.

A light knocking on the open glass door made him jump, turning in his spot on the floor quickly to see Maggie standing in the entryway. She carefully stepped out onto the balcony and sat down beside him, giving him a once over before looking out into the night.

She was silent, bringing calmness into the environment, which had been missing for too long. He watched out of the corner of his eye as the ends of her long hair lifted when the wind blew, bringing a hint of vanilla to his nose. He suddenly realized he hadn't showered in days and made a mental note not to lift his arms up while she was near him.

"Why are you here?" he asked quietly, afraid he would disturb the new sense of peace he felt.

"We were getting worried," she replied softly, "you haven't been around the last few days, and your phone has been off."

She didn't ask why, which he appreciated, for he wouldn't know what to say. He could blame it on stress, which wouldn't be entirely untruthful, or he could claim he was sick, but being a Friarra, Maggie would be able to see through him quickly. The inability to share all of this overwhelming information was just as painful as learning it, and he loathed the Captain more at this moment than he had the last few days. Keeping secrets was hard, but keeping life-changing ones from the person you care for most was nearly impossible. Nearly.

He noticed his spare apartment key in her delicate hands, light gleaming on the metal, making it shine brightly in his eyes. She saw this and gave him a warm smile.

"Only for emergencies, I know, I just felt that something was wrong and couldn't let it go," she reasoned, "I'm sorry if I intruded, I can go," she offered, gesturing toward the door.

"No," he said quickly, putting a hand on her wrist, "please, stay with me," he pleaded, eyes meeting hers directly.

"Alright," she agreed, placing a hand on top of his.

They remained that way for a while, Asher finding security in the contact. Not only because he cared for her, but because he knew that if he told her his deepest sorrows and most significant fears, she would completely understand him as no one else would.

"Do you trust me to make good choices?" he asked.

"When it comes to the well being of others, yes, but when it comes to your own well being, no."

"Why?"

"Because you always put others first, Asher," she explained, "even over the weekend, you let Hannah completely destroy your face just so she could make sure her method for speed worked. You told her it was okay because you knew you were helping her, even though it severely hurt you."

"She asked me to spar-"

"Yeah, well, she should have asked someone else," she grumbled.

"Because I'm not strong enough," Asher said monotonously.

Maggie's eyes widened, "No, that's not what I meant! We just have more training, that's all. With training, you would be just as strong, if not stronger," she assured him.

He looked at her in surprise, "You honestly believe that?"

"Of course, otherwise I wouldn't have said it."

Their heads snapped up simultaneously as a helicopter flew over them, the wind growing harsher as it shook leaves loose from the trees and threatened to lift the skirts of some women in the street below them.

"How does it feel to know you'll be wearing one of those uniforms soon?"

Maggie hesitated, continuing to watch as the machine got smaller as it distanced itself, "It feels scary, but also exciting. The thought of being able to make a difference in our Nation makes me happy. The idea of more village people making their way up there, hopefully bringing their humble outlooks on life with them, could bring this world back down to how it should be, you know?"

"How do you think the world should be?" he asked.

"Putting people before power because no one is scared anymore. People being able to trust again. That's all I want, truly," she smiled.

He chuckled, finding it interesting that she had the same desires he did, but a completely different approach. "And you think just one person will be able to do that?"

"No, of course not, but I think being a person who makes it to the Capitol will encourage others like us, increasing the numbers, and then change will come. In the meantime, I'll do my best to make what changes I can on my own."

"I'm excited to see your plans come to fruition," he said, squeezing her hand.

She yawned, leaning her head on his shoulder as they watched the Capitol lights flicker in the distance, and listened to the commotion of the villages below.

"You and I have seen a lot while living here, Asher," she mumbled, intertwining her fingers with his reassuringly. "We have seen people taken away, people robbed of their homes and belongings, people killed in the streets for harboring the strongest of us, and it has hurt us in more ways than I can count."

He remained silent beside her, listening to her recount some of the worst moments of their past.

"I want to change things so that no one ever has to feel that way again," she said with determination, "and I want you to be able to let the hate in your heart go."

His chest tightened at her words. If only she knew how angry he was, how much hate he felt at this moment was nothing compared to what he felt days earlier. He was disappointed in the system, even more disgusted with their approach, and shocked by how fear can cause people to act. Most of all, he was disappointed in himself for being unable to share all of this with her.

"If those changes happen. If the world remembers what it means to take a life or force someone to kill on their behalf, would you come to the Capitol if I claim you as my family?" she asked shyly.

His cheeks lit on fire, and he was thankful for the darkness and her shorter stature.

"Yeah," his voice caught, "make those little changes, and I'll be right on over."

She laughed wholeheartedly as she sat there, hugging his arm tight to her chest. In a matter of moments, this girl had brought him out of four days worth of misery. He had no idea how she did it, but she had always been able to piece him back together when he fell apart. And at that moment, as he watched her laugh, he found himself never wanting to move from her side again.

She caught her breath, sniffling and wiping her eyes of tears, her nose crinkling as she turned to face him, "Asher, when was the last time you showered?"