A/N Heyyyyyy! (:
Not Sharing Nico here. Got a little Hunger Games tribute right here! Hope ya'll enjoy it!
Alarms. That's the sound thirteen year old Alma Rita wakes up to, alarms and the sight of a eerie red light pulsing, illuminating the long cabin. The breathing of her family and her friend Coriolanus's family's are erratic, signaling they will soon wake. She stands and looks up at the wall clock. It's three in the morning. Her sleepy brain tries desperately to function properly. The horn and the whistle, that's alarm six. But Alma has to run through the entire list of alarms before remembering that six means critical condition.
"Alma? Alma!" the small cry reaches her. She quickly crosses the room, shivering at the feel of the cold cement floor against her bare toes.
"Myles?" Alma calls out in a hushed whisper. "Myles?"
"Alma, I'm scared," Myles, Alma's younger brother, whimpers. His face is briefly illuminated by the alarm, and she sees the fear all over his face. "What's happening?"
There was no time to lose. The pitch of the alarm rises as alarm seven starts blaring out of the speakers. Suddenly everyone is awake, and there is great panic in the cabin. Blankets are thrown across frail shoulders, shoes are shoved onto feet and their owners are pushed out to a crowd of frantic people, out into the frigid winter air of District Thirteen.
"Alma!" Coriolanus's voice rings out above the alarms, above the terrified screams of children, above snow crunching underfoot. Alma stops running and pushes against the throng of people, trying to get to Coriolanus. "Cori!"
Cori reaches her outstretched hand and yanks Alma to him. She throws her arms around him and buries her face in his shoulder as they try to hold each other tight in the bustling District Thirteen.
They run together and finally manage to make it to the entrance to the bunkers below the city. "This is where we're staying?" Cori bursts out as they head towards the stairs. Suddenly he stops. "I won't go."
Desperately, Alma tugs on his arm. But being six years older than her, he is really strong. "Cori, don't leave." Being thirteen and alone during a condition like this was not good.
"Don't forget me," he breathes into her ear, and she barely catches him in the noise. He kisses her cheek and then slips off, fighting against the crowd of frantic bodies.
"No! Cori! Corilanus!" Alma screams, her voice drowned out by alarms. She sees her Cori turn around one last time with sad blue eyes before disappearing in the masses.
Alone.
Alma Rita huddled on her small mattress that smelled musty, like it hadn't been touched in fifty years.
Myles.
Dead.
Mother.
Dead.
Coriolanus.
Gone.
It's a miracle that Alma survived this long. The disease, whatever it is, is spreading like fire and killing off almost all the children and a good number of the adults. Including everyone she'd ever been close to.
Alone.
She presses the frail threads of her blanket to her stiff, cracked lips. If she closed her eyes and inhaled, she could still smell her mother's soap.
A tiny knock makes her jump and release her blanket. She quickly wraps it around her shoulders and answers the door. "Oh!" she says.
Standing in front of her door is a young boy who she'd always admired. His brown hair hangs in front of his warm eyes, and he smiles. "You look really surprised. Sorry, did I scare you? Alma Rita, right?"
Alma raises her eyebrows. "Yes, I am. You're Dareen Coin, aren't you?"
He nods. "Yeah. You were in my English class back when we lived above, right? Miss Breilla's class?"
Three rows in front, one seat to the left, Alma remembers. "Yes."
He sends her another unexpected grin. "You're very shy. You don't talk much. I remember, Louie and I were messing with ya, but you didn't even pay attention, like you didn't care. You remember that?"
Alma shakes her head, lying to his face. She remembered feeling special, but pretended she didn't notice. "No, I don't remember much. Just people. Don't take this wrong, but what are you doing here?"
"I've actually been looking for you since we got down here. But in my sector, we've just been cleared for roaming, as President Roan says," Dareen sighs. "Stupid epidemic."
"What happened?"
"My brother's gone, my older sister's on the verge of dying, and both my parents have given up." Dareen looks past her shoulder and notices the empty room, flickering in the light of a tiny blob of wax. "What happened in here?"
Alma shrugs and pulls the blanket tighter around her shoulders. "My younger brother died two months in. My mom followed him. My friend…" she hesitates. Taking a deep breath, she looks Dareen in the eyes and whispers, "he left."
"How?"
"He just never came in here. His father, who had a weak heart, died right away of the shock. His mother followed, struck with grief." And me, I've been broken beyond repair.
"Who was your friend?"
Alma takes a deep breath. "Coriolanus Snow. I wonder how he's doing. I wonder if he's even alive. Every night. Every day. Every breath. I—" and that's when she starts to cry.
Next thing she knows Alma's hands are encased in Dareen's, and they're sitting next to one another on her cot. "Shh," he whispers, and gently puts a lock of her hair behind her ear. "I'm not leaving you."
Alma sniffs and gives Dareen a hopeless look. "Really?"
He nods. "I won't." Then he gives her a kiss on the cheek and he's gone.
Alone. But not so alone anymore.
"Mom, why do you look so sad?"
Alma Coin looks sadly at her twelve year old daughter, also Alma Coin. "A lot of things make me sad, Alma. A lot of things."
"Like what? I hate seeing you sad so much. It makes me sad."
She gives a wan smile. "Well aren't you just manipulative? Come sit with me," she says, motioning to the little mattress sitting in the corner of their room.
"When I was a little girl, District Thirteen used to exist. We still do, but nobody knows. We used to live above ground, not down here like this. We used to see snow and sun and rain. We'd run through the woods and climb trees and go to schools that required long healthy walks and sometimes, breathtaking runs.
"I lived in a bunker with my mother, younger brother, my friend Coriolanus Snow and his family. We were a happy bunch, with never really much to worry about. Enough food, unlike most families. And that was because we knew how to use our resources. We'd gather foods from the ground and eat them. Life was really good.
"Then, when I was about your age, something bad happened. We went to war, and we were defeated. We were forced to go underground. Coriolanus… he was one of my best friends, besides your father. He was six years older than me. Anyways, he wouldn't come with us underground. His family died of grief, and then a sickness wiped out my family. All but me."
"But you met Dad, right?" little Alma asked, her eyebrows knit together in thought.
"Yes. Believe me, I didn't love Coriolanus anymore than I loved the grass under my feet. But the thought that he could just leave… it hurts sometimes."
"Promise you won't leave me like that."
Alma smiled at her daughter. "I promise."
"Mom, why would you watch it?" Alma whispers to her dying mother. "You know what happened to Cori's parents… why would you do the same?"
She smiles. "He looks just like his father, Alma. I needed to see him once. I hope he's had a comfortable life." She takes a deep breath, smiles at Alma, and then closes her eyes.
And the heart monitor's beeps turn into a drone.
Alone.
You haven't changed, President Alma Coin thinks as she sees one of her only friends, President Coriolanus Snow, welcome the tributes to the Hunger Games. Just like Alma was named the same as her mother, Coriolanus was named after his father. Along with names was passed a feud that would surely end in the death of one if not both of them.
"Seventy-four years since your dad left my mom alone at District Thirteen," Alma says bitterly to her television, recalling the vivid mental image her uncle Myles's tales gave her. Her mother had died long go of a heart disease. When she'd seen Coriolanus Jr., it'd been the dooming image.
Alma refused to break. She was a manipulator, and she came up with a plan that to this day still impressed her. If they let District Thirteen alone, Thirteen would leave the Capitol alone. Rebellion would spark again, and once the districts and the Capitol had destroyed each other, District Thirteen could move in with hardly a scratch.
"Katniss Everdeen." Coin savors the name. Cori couldn't take his eyes off the stunning little tribute. She'd taken the place of her sister in Twelve. "The next best thing compared to us."
A message came in on her screen. It read: President Snow requests your presence at the 74th annual Hunger Games. Again.
"Denied," Coin says, ignoring the message. "Denied."
"You'll regret that," the snake-like hiss of Snow spews from her speaker, infecting her ears. "Don't leave me hanging. You know we've got all the technology you have. And more."
In response, Coin disconnects her speaker and throws it at a wall. Tiredly, she sits back down in her chair and messages her secretary. "I'm going to need a new speaker."
"Is she here?" Coin asks, anxious and excited to talk with the tribute. "Is she here?"
Plutarch nods. "But she's in the hospital. She's, ah, discovered Peeta's gone and not in great condition."
"I'll speak with her when she's rational," Coin decides, and dismisses him with a curt nod. She then presses the button on the intercom and says, "Send Soldier Hawthorne in here. I'd like to have a word."
Five minutes later wary nineteen year old Gale Hawthorne stands before Coin's desk. "Yes?"
"Give me an honest report on our Mockingjay," she commands. When he hesitates, she adds, "As part of your duty, Soldier Hawthorne."
He grimaces. "She's not good," he admits. "She's torn because Snow has Peeta. And she's not happy about not being clued in to the plans to break the tributes out. And Peeta-" an angry scowl dresses his face. "She wants Peeta out of the Capitol's hands."
Coin nods, not surprised. "Her physical condition?"
"Wrecked. She's lost the will to live. I-" he pauses. "I'd say the only way she'll ever recover is if we can get Peeta back."
Coin grimaces. "That's not a reasonable request, she must know that."
"She's practically insane. They have to knock her out every so often. But when I went to see her... President Coin, we have to go, or we'll have no cause and we'll lose," Gale argues, fighting to keep his voice reasonably toned. "She's lost everything: her home, her old life, her safety, her love." He swallows hard. "We're all she has left, but we're not enough."
"Well put. I see it is necessary, but we will not launch a rescue until Miss Everdeen is coherent and able to think straight. She must not have a clear head to want to risk so many lives just for one," Coin decides, but the words sound false even to her own ears. Miss Everdeen made some rash decisions during the Games. It's admirable but dangerous. Costly. And decisions that are costly don't fly well in District Thirteen. She thinks about requesting he keep a close eye on his friend, but she figured he'd do it anyways. "Dismissed, Soldier Hawthorne."
He nods and walks out stiffly, his hands in fists. Peeta was a rather sticky subject around the three of them. "More dangerous then I thought," she murmurs to herself. Innocents were dangerous. Very, very dangerous.