Gadge- Yeah, this got a bit out of hand. Crow!Madge owes more to Flamethrower's Crow!Obi-Wan fic on AO3 than anything else. Part one obviously isn't Gadge. Part two will be coming soon- definitely before the end of February. And I swear it will have Gadge!
Madge didn't know where she was, but it was dark. Dark enough that she couldn't see her hands in front of her face, or see if the place she was in had walls, or simply went on forever.
Given what she last remembered- screaming, a crash and then nothing but heat- she thought it might be the latter.
The Afterlife didn't need walls after all.
She hoped this wasn't it- not forever. She wanted to find her parents, meet her Aunt Maysilee-
No. That wasn't what she wanted. It was what she wanted from the Afterlife, if she wasn't granted oblivion. But what she wanted was beyond her reach now.
She wanted everything they'd taken from her. The sunroom where her piano was kept, afternoon's spent making melodies to songs Katniss had learned from her father. The library, where her father read grim tales and legends that were thought lost if they were thought of at all. Her mother's bedroom, her sickroom in soothing cream and lavender with morphling bottles in a box on the sill.
The woods where she'd been able to think she had friends. The songbird with Aunt Maysilee's pin, quiet and strong like an oak tree, but so brittle in ways she didn't seem to know. The artist with the sharp mind and strongest heart she'd ever seen, caring even when it hurt. The hunter forced to be a miner, burning so fiercely in his desperation and hatred and even his love. Even their trainer, who couldn't look her in the eyes for fear of seeing her aunt, but tried to anyway.
The Capitol had stolen them. Stolen her. She wanted them back but…
"Not as much as you want revenge." A voice crooned, almost in the back of her mind. "Not as much as you want to watch them bleed and burn, hurt them the way they've hurt everyone else."
Madge looked around wildly, but there was only black.
The voice continued. "All those years of keeping your head down, smiling when spoken to, and staying out of the way. They didn't stamp out your fire, only fed the flames. You hate them, the painted and decorated men and women who smile as your people die. Who laugh at the slaughter of children, and think they bestow an honour when they call out the names. You hate beautifully, Madge Undersee."
"It seethes inside of you, but does not devour you. Their words are sparks in the wind, and your obedience ash in your mouth- but between that is the fire. Kept out of sight, never allowed to rage for fear it would consume all that you loved- burning steadily, glowing embers clinging to life for the chance to incinerate all that you despise."
"That which you loved is gone. There is no reason to hold back any longer. Seek that which you hate, the justice that no one will grant your family- and let the fire rage. Let the fury burn."
The darkness changed. Madge drew a breath of air and coughed on old smoke. Her eyes opened to a night time sky- and the ruins of her district. There was no sound except the wind and crumbling building.
Madge stood up- far too easily, she'd never been able to move that way even before the bombs had fallen. She ignored it, stalking towards the nearest pile of rubble- her home. The bodies had been removed- she'd woken up lying next to the half destroyed half rotten corpses, as if still one of them. Mother, Father, Mrs Oberst and Col all lined in a row.
She didn't know what she hoped to find in the rubble until she found it. A simple tin box- dented but not destroyed- and inside were her treasures. A book of music, all her favourite songs noted down in her own hand, and all of the Donner family compositions. A piece of jet her father had bought illegally, paying a coal miner to smuggle it out. Before she'd given it to Katniss, the Mockinjay pin had stayed in this box too.
The last item in the box was the most important at the moment. It had been abirthday present from Haymitch Abernathy when she'd turned ten. Her last year of freedom before she could be reaped.
It was a simple compact, with two mirrors inside. She opened it- and stared.
Her face was covered in grey and black ash, the ashes of her life and her grave. The black spread out around her eyes, like wings. Black wings. Her hair was the same pale gold it had always been, but wild and streaked with the same ash. Her eyes were fever bright against the grey.
In the reflection, she saw black wings against the sky and was therefore unsuprised to feel the weight upon her shoulder.
She turned to face the bird- black feathers, black beak, black eyes. A crow.
"Hello Crow." She said, feeling a dark smile play on her lips. "Do you want to see it burn too?"
The crow cawed in agreement. Her smile grew and she stood, closing the compact and putting it back in the box.
"We'd better get going if they're going to pay for their crimes." Madge thought to herself, placing the box where her body should be. Imaged flashed through her mind. "All of them. Every single bomber and everyone who passed on the order. Including Snow."