So I know it's kind of super dorky to write an alternate storyline to your own fanfic, but I couldn't get this out of my head. What if the rebellion didn't go as planned? What if they were left to fend for themselves to get Makenna out alive from that arena? Hope you like it :)
Gale's POV
"They're not coming." Finnick whispers in a defeated voice, finally having filled me in on the plan for the break out. It's down to me, Finn, Johanna, and Makenna right now. It's the fourth day of the Games and there isn't a ton of arena left; after all, there's only the desert we're in now and the Cornucopia.
Duncan had apparently had a plan that would have showed that Makenna was the symbol of the rebellion (which I still don't know how I feel about), but since he died and apparently she didn't drink whatever it was he gave her that failed. We came back to where Johanna and Makenna were waiting after Duncan died and Finn and I killed Brutus and Cashmere, angry and sad but knowing we had to move on. Finn carried Johanna since it was clear she really couldn't walk on her own (and she only protested a little much to my surprise) as we walked into the jungle for the night. A cannon went off right before dusk and it revealed that little Albert had died, obviously by something of the Gamemakers. We were the only four left. Waiting for the rebels to come get us. It never happened.
Which leads us to the original plan as painful as that is. Die for my daughter.
Jo, Finn, and I all look at each other with pained knowing glances, and I feel the nightlock in my pocket that I had picked up in the forest part of the arena before it was destroyed for this very matter. Kennie didn't really seem to know what was going on but she knew something was wrong. Johanna told her to come over and hugged her and then Finn picked her up, kissing her forehead before setting her down and going to embrace Johanna. With a heavy sigh I take Kennie in my arms and barely hold back the tears as I kiss her cheeks, her forehead, her hair. I know this is the last time I'll ever do so and so I drink her in, never wanting to let go.
Katniss's POV
As soon as the goodbyes start I begin sobbing, not bothering to keep quiet. I feel hands try to comfort me, several pairs of them, but I just barely pay attention to them, glued to the screen.
"Makenna." Gale begins in a quiet but serious voice, though it's thick with emotion. I can tell that he's trying not to cry in front of her. She looks at him with confusion but knows something is wrong.
"Yeah Daddy?" she asks in an innocent tone, but all it does is make me cry harder, the sobs wracking my body now.
"I need you to do something for me." Gale tells her, his hands on her shoulders. He takes a deep breath before continuing. "I need you to run towards the Cornucopia and not stop until you hear your name being called. Understand?" She starts tearing up but nods, and I'm surprised she doesn't protest.
"I love you. So much." Gale says, pressing his lips to her hair again and letting a few stray tears fall into it. "Now go."
"But Daddy…you'll catch up with me, won't you?" she asks, taking in his tears warily. He sighs but lies to her, I guess the best for now.
"Yeah, I will. But you have to go now." He tries to smile at her, and she turns to find Finn and Jo doing their best to reassure her as well. It seems to pacify her for the moment and she does what she's told, running from them and not looking back. Once she's mostly out of sight Gale turns to Finnick and Johanna who's sitting on the ground now and takes out the berries, handing them each a few.
"Ready?" Gale breaks the heavy air with, and they nod.
"I'm dying anyway." Johanna shrugs, gesturing to her legs.
"I love you Annie. I'm so sorry." Finnick exclaims, revealing his secret to the whole of Panem now that it doesn't matter anymore. The playboy of Panem reveals he's taken right before…
"I love you Katniss. Forever." Gale says to the screen and my breath catches, knowing this is the last time I'll ever hear it. If I wasn't sitting in a chair right now I would have collapsed already.
Deep breaths follow and they count down, the berries slipping down their throats at the same time.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
At this point it doesn't matter that I'm sitting, I do collapse to the floor with sobs wracking my body in guilt and pain and despair and no one stops me. Nothing matters anymore. My husband, my best friend, the only love I've ever had just died as well as two of my great friends. For my daughter.
I just barely hear the words that end these horrible Games before slipping into unconsciousness from my pain.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you the Victor of the 84th Hunger Games, Makenna Hawthorne of District 12!"
"Mommy?" her voice calls once she comes out of the sedated state that they put her in once she got out of the arena. I only barely pulled myself together yesterday, two days after the end of the Games and only because I knew I couldn't fall apart for her sake. She would need me no matter now much I just wanted to die myself. I needed to protect her still.
"I'm right here sweetie." I answer quietly at her side, stroking her hair as she looks up at me.
"Where's Daddy?" she asks me next, the immediate question coming off her lips. The very one that I can't answer; I still choke up even trying to.
"He's in a better place." Someone answers for me when I can't, and I find Cecilia standing at the doorway. I'm not sure if that's entirely true because I'd much rather him be here with me, but it seems to pacify Makenna in the meantime. Maybe she doesn't understand yet.
Until the Recap. When she sees. I don't think she fully understands but not even Caeser can blame her for crying out nor me running up to the stage to comfort her when she sees. Johanna and her Uncle Finn collapsing. Seeing her Daddy collapse to the ground. The audience is in tears with us anyway.
On the train ride home she comes to sit on my lap where I am on the couch sitting silently, putting her arms around my neck while I hold her to me. She doesn't speak, just sits there contemplating something.
"Mommy?" she breaks the silence and I look down to her. "Daddy's not coming back, is he? Just like all those other kids we come there with?"
With a sigh, I know no matter how much it hurts to admit, no matter how much I wish her young face didn't have such old wise eyes, I need to tell the truth. She deserves to know at least, she's already figured it out. She's just looking for confirmation.
"No, he's not." I answer quietly, and she presses her face into my chest as I rest my chin on her head, letting the tears fall silently.
"Ah, if it isn't the Widow Hawthorne. Do come in." Snow's smile greets me at the doorway. But if he's expecting me to play along or smile with him I'm not going to please him. Regardless, my frown as I go to sit down does not deter him.
"A widow by your doing." I remind him, not quite keeping the pain or vicious accusatory tone from my answer.
"I assure you that was not my choice, Mrs. Hawthorne. Your late husband chose that for your darling daughter." He claims, and he knows he's right in a way. Not that Gale would have been in that position in the first place had it not been for him.
"What do you want?" I question him, wanting to get to the point. So I can get back to my stupid job mentoring tributes just for them to die. Like every year.
"No need to be so harsh." He exclaims and I find it in myself to roll my eyes at him; it's not like I care if he knows how I think of him. "I've just called you here to inform you of my impending meeting with your daughter."
"What for?" I question him, suspicious. This can't be good.
"She's growing up quickly, and a charming and beautiful young lady at that." Snow informs me, as if I didn't know. Her twelve birthday is in a week, after all. "She would make me quite a bit on the market." He muses out loud.
It takes me a second, but once I realize what he's implying I snap my head, anger making me see red and disbelief at his intentions. "You can't be serious. She's only twelve." I choke out, not even being able to say the words aloud. He wants…he wants her to go on appointments? At this age? He's insane.
"Even better; I know quite a lot of citizens who would even pay extra for someone so young and innocent." He smiles at me as I shake my head violently.
"No. I won't let you touch her." I protest, my body shaking from the rage. I have to protect her and I'd never let him do that to her. Ever.
"I don't see what choice you have in this, Mrs. Hawthorne. After all, the Capitol is in need of Victors to entertain them, especially since we lost so many five years ago. She would simply be doing her duty." He says sickeningly sweet to me, leading to something. Something he wants me to say.
"I'll take her place. But you can't touch her." I offer myself, knowing from his winning smirk that I've gone to the conclusion he wanted me to come to in the first place. It seems a fitting final push of revenge after all; This all started because Gale didn't want me to do appointments. And now he's finally getting what he thinks I had to do all these years, and Gale's gone. And now he has someone to hold over me to do it and do a good job.
"Very well. I'll have your manager call you in the morning." He nods and waves me off. I can't believe I walked into that trap. I feel more defeated than ever.
Makenna's POV
My name is Makenna Hawthorne. I am eighteen years old. I am the Victor of the 84th Hunger Games. I was the Phoenix in the rebellion of Panem when I was sixteen years old, the symbol of the war that ended the Hunger Games. I killed Snow. I killed Coin after I found out what she intended, to continue the Hunger Games. I now live in District 12 with my Grandma. I became an orphan one year ago today.
For someone so young in age I certainly don't feel young. I feel old, weary. Beaten at times. Guilty much of the time. Especially now, sitting at the foot of my parents' graves.
Though I realized that Daddy died in my Games, it wasn't until I was older that I realized that he, Johanna, and Uncle Finn had died for me. To live. When I figured it out after watching my Games again when they happened to be on the television when I was fourteen, guilt wracked my body. I sobbed and punched the walls, unbelieving that I caused so much death. That I was the pain I could see in my grandma's, my aunts and uncles, and especially my mother's eyes. Though she tried to hide it I know she never quite got over the death of my father, and realizing I was the reason he was gone made me hate myself.
She came downstairs in a panic at all the noise I was making and once I told her what I figured out and that I was a horrible person she took me in her arms, explained everything. She said they had known going in what would happen, that it was what they wanted. It didn't make it easier but I shouldn't blame myself; they were trying to make a point.
Some point I was, I thought, knowing that I didn't do much of anything to make them proud of saving me. Just going hunting or swimming, sometimes with mom if she felt up to it. When she went to the Capitol every few months I went by myself though she never explained that either. That I had to find out about after her death from someone else.
It was right after the rebellion, right after she watched me shoot Snow. She was sick in the hospital, but I suspected it was more from heartbreak that she never quite got over losing my Daddy than anything. She told me she loved me so much and to live in this new world for her, Daddy, and everyone else that had died. To do whatever makes me happy.
No, it was Haymitch that told me of what she was doing in the Capitol. Appointments that he didn't really go into detail about but I could figure it out well enough for myself. And she did it in my place.
The guilt seeped in again. Why would my parents do that? Why would my dad die for me? Why would my mom do the appointments for me?
"They really loved ya squirt." Haymitch's voice breaks the silence of the meadow, and I look up with a tearstained face to see him staring at me from about ten feet away, a knowing look on his face. He knows I only come here when I'm feeling really guilty, trying to get answers from graves. He keeps saying that's the reason but somehow I can't quite believe it all the time. But it has to be true, right? So many people say it's the reason; it's basically half the reason I was a successful Phoenix for the war.
"I just hope I can make them proud." I reveal to him as a whisper, saying my fear. That they died and did so much for me for nothing.
"Ya already do. Promise." He replies with a smile, and leads me back to the house after I press three fingers to my lips and to their graves, knowing that no matter what anyone says that I'll be back soon.
And who knows? Maybe I'll come back and show them that I am living happily for them one day.
