Disclaimer: I don't own The Hunger Games or anything recognizable found herein.

A/N: I've recently decided to reread the trilogy and it made my love for the series live again! Catching Fire has always been my favorite (I know, I'm in the minority), but I'll admit that I was looking forward to the psychological horror of Katniss having to mentor some poor girl slated to die. And then how horrible it would be if she actually knew the person. And I've always felt that Madge was the greatest waste of a character in the series, especially when Katniss mentions Madge had been "dying" to get out of 12 and she taught her a few things, including how to shoot!

This premise probably makes little sense, but hey, it's fanfiction, and enjoyability matters more than logic!

Warnings: Spoilers for the first two books, major AU, canon-typical violence, first person POV, contains Everlark and (one-sided... maybe) Gadge. I will add any chapter-specific warnings per chapter.

Summary: Catching Fire AU. Madge knows she has no chance in the arena. She's not a hunter, or an artist, or a Career; she doesn't even have a tragic back story to garner sponsor sympathy. Katniss knows this too, but when Snow decides the best way to punish the Victors - and her especially - is to choose the tributes from their family and friends, she becomes determined that she will bring at least one of them back alive. Considering her fellow tribute, Madge knows the odds are not in her favor, but maybe, just maybe, she can do something to make herself unforgettable.

Unforgettable

Chapter One: The Reaping

"This year, in order to remind the districts that not even the strongest of them can withstand the might of the Capitol, the tributes will be chosen from the surviving Victors' family and friends."

I wonder for a moment what the point of this is. Well, it's very clear that the point is to make the Victors, especially the newest ones, suffer, but it seems very shortsighted to me.

Won't this just make people angrier?

I know, I'm not supposed to know about the revolts in other Districts, but of course I know. My father is the mayor, he has a skeleton crew of assistants, always running from one end of 12 to the other trying to keep everything together. Sometimes the alarms in his office blare for hours. My mother, blessedly unaware of most things, would sometimes send me to shut it off, and so I see most everything. I suppose I might be one of the most well-informed people in Panem that doesn't work for the Capitol.

This will only make things worse.

One of the only things keeping the country from open rebellion was that the Victors - the strongest of us - refuse to openly support it. I wonder if they don't want to lose their comfortable lives free from work and hunger... or if they were scared. Scared of being killed, or not being killed. Of being sent back to the arena or, perhaps, this exact thing happening. Their friends and family being specifically targeted just because they dared to survive. Some of them had children, some of them were old enough to have grandchildren.

Here in 12, the square is cordoned off for hundreds like it always is, which makes the laughably small tribute pool even more jarring. Katniss can count the people she loves on the fingers of her hands. Gale, Mrs. Hawthorne, and Mrs. Everdeen are all over eighteen, making them ineligible; Vick and Posy Hawthorne are both under twelve. I'm glad the age limit still stands even for the Quell. I wonder if even the Capitol could be cruel enough to send a ten or five year old into the Arena; an elderly woman like Greasy Sae, or an expectant father like Bristel. My stomach twists in revulsion as all my thoughts converge on the word yes.

That leaves me and Prim for the girls, and Rory Hawthorne for the boys.

Peeta, though always popular and able to charm anyone on sight, was strangely solitary. All his family members were too old for the reaping and his only real friends were fellow Victors. Delly Cartwright, who had grown up with him, stands in girls' side, while a few boys from school were standing near Rory. It was obvious that they were added to amp up the tension; they hung out with Peeta, sure, but they weren't close. Maybe they had bragged about knowing him, spoken on his behalf on TV when he made the final eight last year, or maybe they were just unlucky.

I hold Prim's left hand in my right, and she, ever so sweet, grabs Delly's visibly shaking hand in her other one, despite not even knowing her. I realize in an instant why Katniss volunteered. Prim is so kind, so good, that the idea of her being reaped is unbearable to me, and I've only gotten to know her well in the last year.

I wonder, if her name is called again, if Katniss would try to volunteer again, if she would be allowed to, in this mess they call the Quarter Quell. This was obviously targeted at Katniss, the torture too precise for it to be coincidence. If they want her out of the way, why wouldn't they just let her go back into the arena to die?

Because then she'd be a martyr.

Okay, so maybe they do have some sort of foresight. I wonder if one of us will be expected to volunteer for her. If I will be expected to volunteer for her. I am supposed to be Katniss' best friend, after all.

I can't bear the thought of Prim being reaped, but I don't want to go either. As Effie steps up to the microphone and says "Ladies first!" I think, for one sickening instant, that I hope it will be Delly. Then I am immediately filled with revulsion at myself and try to make my mind blank. I close my eyes tightly and focus on one thought and one thought only.

That it's not Prim, it's not Prim, it's not Prim.

When the name is called, my head snaps up, even as my mind goes completely blank. I'm not even sure I'm breathing. Because the name that was called is not Primrose Everdeen.

It's Madge Undersee.

I feel Prim's hand spasm in mine, and I realize I'm squeezing too tight, my nails digging into the back of her hand, but she doesn't let go. She isn't pulling away. If anything, she's gripping me back just as tightly. Tears prick my eyes, and it is this kindness, this act of love that I never thought I would receive from anybody, that allows me the strength to pull my hand away and walk towards the stage.

Vaguely, I am aware that Prim has covered her mouth with her hands, though the tears flowing down her cheeks are still visible. Delly fell to her knees at some point, probably in relief, and I can't say I blame her. On the stage, Effie is the only person that looks halfway happy to see me, but even she is not her usual chipper self. I imagine it is because how much her favorite tributes are suffering now, and not for me, someone she has seen maybe once at the Harvest Festival because I was friends with Katniss.

Katniss does her best to stare steely into the distance, not even looking at me, and that I also understand. If she looks at me, the proof that she can't protect her loved ones, she might cry and she can't do that, not in front of the cameras. Peeta does look at me though, and his eyes are so sad and earnest that I'm the one that needs to look away. Haymitch stares and stares and stares. I'm not sure what to make of it. And my father... oh my poor father!

I can't stand this! How will I last even an instant in the arena?

I don't have time to even think of a strategy, of what demeanor I should present to have even a halfway decent chance to win when I realize I have no chance. I will not be making it back to District 12, because Effie has already moved on to the boys and the name she calls out seals my fate.

It is "Rory Hawthorne!"

I don't know why I feel beholden to Gale Hawthorne, he hasn't done anything for me. If anything he has been callous and even cruel to me! I remember his scathing words to me at the reaping last year. Can't he take a joke? Then I remember Katniss, who is similarly defensive and distrustful, and realize that he can't. He's from the Seam, he's been the head of a family of five since he was fourteen, he's been forced to work in the mines, he's been publicly whipped. He has suffered in a way I can't even imagine and yet he continues on with the same steadfast spirit he's always had.

And I realize that's it, I admire him. Sometimes, I think I could even...

Well, that doesn't matter now. It never really did. But it means that I will have to die, because...

The door slams open and my father, red in the face and short of breath walks in, all but carrying my mother who is more aware than I have ever seen her. She looks at me, really looks at me, and yet when she grasps my face in her hands, she sobs, "Maysilee," before pulling me into her arms for a crushing hug.

She runs her fingers through my hair, upsetting the ribbon holding it in a half-ponytail, murmuring in my ear, "Not you, Maysilee. Not again."

Over and over. It's just nonsense to me. I vaguely remember my mother having a sister named Maysilee, but she died so long ago, before my parents were even married, and no one talks about her. I was always unconcerned about her, but now I feel like I should have asked.

My father doesn't hug me. We have never been an overly affectionate family. Ever since I was nine and grew too big for his lap, our contact has been limited to kisses on the forehead before school and a quick hug on a special days. He looks at me over my mother's shoulder, and smiles sadly.

He doesn't offer advice or empty encouragement, we both know it would be pointless. I offer him one of my hands and he grips it tight like he never wants to let go. For a moment I think this is what a family is really like. Why couldn't we be like this all the time? Why did you have to wait for me to die to show me that you loved me? I don't voice my thoughts. This is not the time to hurl resentments. It's time to be a family.

The Peacekeepers come in to herd my family away. Not even being the mayor can gain my father special privileges like more time with his only child.

"I love you so much!" I practically sob, and my father tells me they both love me too as my mom cries for her dead sister before the door slams on their faces.

Prim and her mother come in next. They both hug me fiercely, and any pretenses I had of being strong for the cameras evaporate as I burst into tears. The Everdeens have become almost like family in the last year. While my mother withered away in bed and my father did his best to keep Thread at minimum cruelty, I was left alone to my own devices. Most of my free time I spent with Katniss. Then, when the Quarter Quell was announced and it was apparent who would be in the tribute pool, Peeta forced us all to begin training for "anything," as he said. Mrs. Everdeen designed a special diet for us to eat, Katniss and Peeta made sure each of us was able to keep the diet, and Prim healed our hurts. Even Haymitch had shouted directions at us while we trained!

Gale had mockingly referred to the little unofficial training center in the Victor's Village as the Career Camp, but he had joined regardless as his brother was in danger as well. He taught us about snares and assisted Katniss when she taught us to shoot arrows and throw knives.

"Katniss will help you," Prim whimpers against my chest, but I know her heart's not in it. They have known the Hawthornes for years, Rory is in her class, between the two of us, it's obvious who she'd rather have come back. But, maybe, she hopes that if he doesn't then I will. That's about all I can ask for.

"We'll be cheering for you, both of you," Mrs. Everdeen tells me fiercely, and I respect that she is at least honest. "Do your best."

"I will," I promise, because even if I have no plans to come back, I can't go down without a fight either.

They leave without a fuss, probably unwilling to be manhandled by the Peacekeepers like we were last year. I sit on the plush velvet seat, expecting to be alone until Rory is done with his visits and we are taken to the train. I have no other friends or family. Only Katniss and Peeta who will be acting as mentors and I will see on the train.

I don't expect any other visitors, so I jump out of the seat when the door opens again. I am shocked beyond words when I see my visitor.

She doesn't waste words, or grip me tight, or cry. She marches over to the seat and pulls me down next to her. We are both quiet for a moment, but I realize our time is limited, so I quietly inquire, "Mrs. Hawthorne?"

"Please, call me Hazelle."

I nod, and wait for her to continue. I know Hazelle from the Career Camp, she would be there before anyone else, having tended to Haymitch's house, and stayed to cheer on Rory and tell Gale to take it easier on us. Vick and Posy would sit with her, watching us all, shouting encouragements, cheering wildly when we barely completed a challenge. They were, all in all, the loveliest family I knew. Hazelle herself might be the most graceful and motherly woman I know, I doubt she has come to wish me ill, so I wait for her to find the right words.

"I can't honestly say I hope to see you again," she begins and a manic smile graces her face as a half-sob, half-crazed laugh escapes her. Her forehead wrinkles with tension and tears spring to her quicksilver eyes. "But I can honestly say I will miss you."

I can't take it. I have received more love and kindness in the last few moments than I have in my entire life. I reach forward and hug her, tears once again escaping my eyes, and she doesn't hesitate to return the hug.

"Could you... maybe... if it's not too much trouble, visit my parents once in a while? They don't have much friends. With Mrs. Everdeen. I forgot to ask her."

"I can imagine that was an emotional visit," her voice is steady and her fingers slowly rake through my hair in a soothing manner, not in the same desperate way my mother's had. "I knew your mother, only a little, when we went to school together. I should have gone to see her sooner."

There is something in her voice that hints to some secret that I should know, but I don't have time to question her before her time is up. Maybe it's just that I don't have the same emotional bond with her, or that her embrace relaxed me, but it is only with Hazelle that I can remember to say the one thing that I've wanted to say since my name was called.

"Please don't forget me!"

"Never!" Hazelle manages to promise before the door closes and separates us forever.

The train ride is unbearably somber. Nobody speaks but Effie, who only talks about schedules. Upon seeing that Rory and I will follow her every word, she chirps happily about finally being able to get things done and leaves to do whatever it is escorts do.

Peeta tries to sound cheerful as he tells us to eat up, and Rory digs in unquestioningly.

I can't take a single bite, only sit silently waiting for night to come and to fall sleep.

"Eat, Madge." Katniss' voice startles me, it's the first time she's spoken to me since the day before. Since we left the Career Camp for the last time and she wished us all luck. "The best thing you can do between now and the Games is put on a few pounds."

I look at her and wonder what must be going through her head. Anger, certainly. Both tributes have been chosen from her side of the pool, no matter who wins, she will lose at least one friend. Most likely, she will lose two. I wonder if the reaping was rigged somehow. Sadness, probably. And maybe she's already deciding who she will save. Age and muscle mass lends me favor. I was also her best student at the Career Camp since she had previously taken me out to the forest and taught me to shoot, although we never got to actual hunting. Maybe my looks, the merchant look, which is not all that different from the District 1 look, could gain me some sponsors.

But in terms of affection... I have no chance. I do not doubt that Katniss loves Rory, who is practically a younger sibling, more than me. And he's Gale's little brother. Gale will never forgive her if she doesn't do everything to bring his little brother back, and Katniss could never be without Gale, her actual best friend.

But I can tell by the look in her eyes, the lines forming around them, that she's conflicted. So I swallow my thoughts and force myself to eat.

After the meal, we are herded into a car with a large TV to watch the reapings from across the country. Heartbreakingly, the announcers also include why they were each in the tribute pool and I was right, many Victors have children and even grandchildren.

Right off the bat, one of the announcers almost bursts into tears as Splendid and Calisto, both children of the woman that won the 40th Hunger Games and her many Capitol lovers, are reaped. And then she wipes her tears, smiles, and insists they all expect big things from the children of the woman who killed half the tributes in her year! Katniss looks like she wants to shoot an arrow at the screen.

No one is particularly exceptional; for the first time in my life, there are no Careers, no volunteers from 1, 2, or 4. The tribute pools are so small even in those Districts, the company most Victors kept being too young, or too old, or even fellow Victors.

In 8, one of the female Victors begins screaming her head off as the boy tribute takes the stage, and has to be held back by Peacekeepers. The announcers share a chuckle, and mention Haymitch's inglorious performance the year before and how "Cecilia may take his title as most memorable mentor." It's only after they make fun of her that they mention the twelve year old tribute is her son.

9, 10, and 11, pass in a blur, and finally we get to 12. The announcers say what I had been thinking at the time: that they are grateful that Prim was not reaped. I am mostly unimpressive, the only thing in my favor being my blank face. I seem "intense" and "focused," but of course I am, being best friends with the girl on fire. I barely resist rolling my eyes. Katniss might be my best friend - my only friend, really - but I know I am not hers. I was only her safe haven when the romantic entanglements in her life became too much.

On the screen, Rory practically vibrates with anxiety and the announcers coo over how adorable he looks and then mourn the girl on fire's luck. She found true love only to lose two close friends. Will the odds never be in her favor!? Katniss doesn't bother stopping herself from rolling her eyes. She also makes a gagging sound.

When the TV shuts off, Rory is the first to speak, "I was horrible!"

"Oh no, no!" Peeta insists, "They think you're adorable, so they already like you!"

"Adorable won't keep him alive." Katniss snaps.

Peeta doesn't bother to hide his glare and I'm surprised. I knew, of course, that they weren't the madly in love couple they show for the Capitol, but I thought they got along overall. "Sponsors that like him will keep him alive."

They argue for a moment, back and forth, as Haymitch quietly chugs a bottle. Eventually, the conversation turns to me and whether my stony silence would win me favor. Peeta mentions that I looked a little scary. "You always looked like that. That's why no one but Katniss would sit with you at lunch. No one was brave enough."

That pulls me up short. I had no idea people were scared of me. I always thought they hated me because of my supposed privilege as the mayor's daughter. I have never, not even once in my life, thought of myself as scary.

"I'm not scary," I tell them.

"It doesn't matter," Peeta insists. "In the Capitol, image is everything. We can work with intimidating." And then, so that Rory doesn't have to worry about favoritism, "And we can work with adorable."

Rory smiles almost adoringly at Peeta. I can already see the big brother worship taking root in his mind. Good. Hopefully, Peeta can see it too and feels obligated to bring him home, just like Katniss already does.

Just like I already do. I have no plans on making it back home, but I can't go down without a fight, either. Because I am going to make sure that Rory Hawthorne is crowned the Victor of the 75th Hunger Games.

A/N: Sorry if this chapter seems a bit derivative of the original work, it just ended up like that. The Mrs. Hawthorne/Mr. Mellark parallel was intentional, but IDK, I feel kind of weird about it.

I know that in the movies it is shown, and implied in the books, that Heavensbee was manipulating Snow into forcing the Victors into the arena to make their Mockingjay, but I still think that was super reckless, especially since not all the Victors were in on the plan. Katniss could have died, and then where would they be!

I hope I can give Madge her own unique voice throughout this fic. She sounds kind of Katniss-y to me right now, but this is basically only the (really long) prologue. I'm not entirely sure if the 40th Hunger Games were mentioned, but in this AU a District 1 girl won. Cecilia's children's ages and her exact age are also a mystery to me. She supposed to be in her 30's so, if she's 35 or thereabouts, having a twelve year old isn't really that weird, especially in this world where everybody dies young and a pregnant seventeen year old isn't all that shocking. I'm also super confused about Bristel's sex! In fanfic, they're usually a girl, in the HG Wiki, he is a boy, IDK if Collins ever confirmed that, but whatever, in this fic he's a man!

As always, tell me what you liked, didn't like, and thought could use improvement!

~ Destiny's Sweet Melody