Rory writes and works until his fingers ache from the pushing towards his goal of creating that song he's been writing for her. His best friend. She's got beautiful blue eyes, almost as bright as what he'd imagine a clean sky to be. Long blonde hair that she wears in a long braid down her back. She tucks her shirt into her pants but it always come out in the back like a little duck tail. Her name's Primrose Everdeen, and it fits her just right because she's even lovelier than the flower she's named.

He met her at the Justice Building when the Mines exploded and took both of their fathers as its victims. Prim was 8, Rory 10, but it wasn't something you could get over, ever really, no matter how old you are. But they were strong. They bonded over their losses, meeting at the lake to talk about their fathers. Sometimes Prim couldn't take it anymore, and she would start to cry, but Rory was there to hold her and reassure her that he was in a better place, far from this hell that the rest of them have to endure.

Prim had a heart almost as gold as her hair. She helped her mother run their small 'business' of taking care of the sick and injured, except it really wasn't a business at all because she believed that life has so much more value than money does. They never accepted money, or trades. All they wanted was the citizens to be healthy again.


It's been four years since they've met, and they've grown closer over the years. Rory doesn't know if she sees him, really. Certainly not in the light as he sees her. His heart aches, but he's always too afraid to pluck up the courage and bring up the subject of a relationship. He walks her to her classes, then runs to make it to his in time, but she sees it as kindness. He holds her hand, but she sees it as a best friend thing. He gives her hugs all the time, but she sees it as because they're such good friends. She just doesn't see it as love.

It's normal for people to find their true love around that age because they don't last for long there.


The moment the bombs hit, he helps his mother gather the fewest necessities they would need, and follows Gale hurriedly to the fence that separates District 12 from the Woods, his 5-year old sister Posy in one arm, and gripping onto his 10-year old brother's hand. He helps the men tear the fence down, as the frantic citizens of the District shove their way into the Meadow. There's screaming and blaring sirens filling his ears to the brim. His eyes water when he can't find his best friend in the crowd.

The bombs still rain down, so he says his hurried goodbyes to his family. He runs fullspeed towards the Seam, ignoring his mother's yelling to him, toned down from the screams of the injured and the ground exploding beneath their feet. He knows she must be helping her mother gather some of the injured and dragging them to the Meadow.

He's so frantic, his legs are shaking and he's afraid they might just collapse under him. His heart is pounding right out of his chest and he has no idea which way to go because he's only got two choices: one way is full of smoke, and the other is a flame reaching the clouds. He's about to cry now because the flame's the way her house is. He falls to his knees, because that's it. The bombs have got her and there's nothing he can do about it but sit there and cry.

"RORY!"

His head whips up at the sound of that oh so familiar voice. She's there, covered in ash, her arms burned and bleeding, a cut on her cheek and he's pretty sure her hand isn't supposed to bend that way. But through it all, she's dragging a full grown man, leg blown off from a bomb. A burnt fluffy yellow cat, Buttercup, croaks a weak meow, but follows close on her trail. He stumbles to his feet and coughs up the smoke filling his lungs. He pulls her into a hard desperate hug, tears dripping into her tangled hair.

"Primmie. Primmie, I thought you were dead."

"I can't be dead. It wouldn't be allowed when I'm needed so much here." She coughs, wheezing, with her hands on her knees.

"We gotta go!" Rory looks up and there's a Capitol hovercraft hovering over their general area. Lights flashing; a warning. He takes one of the injured man's arms and swings it over his shoulders, pulling him up so he's on his leg, and Prim takes the other arm. Together, they're running. Well, as fast as you can run with a full grown man digging his nails into your shoulder and weighing you down with zero effort.

They reach the Meadow by the time the bombing has stopped and Mrs. Everdeen immediately collects her daughter into an enormous hug, lifting her off her feet with sobs reaching a five-mile radius. She warns her not to ever leave her like that again or she could never forgive herself if she lost her.


People still cough, even though the bombs have never touched the Meadow. Rory sits with Prim on a log, as she tells him how to dress her wounds. He wraps gauze around her wrist and disinfects her cheek, then puts a bandage on it. Rory glances up at her every now and then, because he's afraid he might hurt her, but she just smiles like she can't feel anything. Once, he met her eyes for a few seconds but he coughed and whipped his head down, training his eyes on her wounds as his cheeks glowed like charcoals.


The Hovercrafts arrive and land in the Meadow. People scream because they think it's the Capitol again, ready to destroy the survivors. They introduce themselves formally as District 13 rebels, taking us to safety. Nobody believes them because everyone knows that 13 was pulverized decades ago. They're dressed in army uniforms and they stand in such a menacing stance, it takes almost ten minutes for one of the survivors to enter the airship. That survivor is a man that Rory recognizes as one of Gale's mining buddies, Thom. It doesn't take long for Gale to follow soon after, carrying Posy in, also. Next is their mother and Vick. Then Rory, Prim with her cat, and her mother.

The rebels make everyone leave all of their belongings in the Meadow, because there are way too many people and not enough airships. They're cramped, but it would be way more so if there wasn't any airships to transport the injured.


It's been almost a year since the bombing and they've adjusted to the style of living in 13, even if they don't like it; they bear it. Rory and Prim sit at their own table in the cafeteria, Rory pushing his peas around on his plate. Prim sits with her arms crossed on the table, watching Rory play with his food with a sigh. He looks up at her curiously.

"There's something I've got to tell you, Rory," she says.

"Shoot," he says, finally scooping the peas into his mouth.

She looks around, then leans forward across the table, bringing her voice lower so her mother couldn't hear her from the table over. "I've been chosen."

"Chosen? No! Tell them no!" his fork tinks onto the floor.

"I can't say no. I've been chosen. Plus, they need me," Prim says.

"Then I'm going too."

"Rory.. You don't know anything about medicine," she says, unsure.

"I'll say I do. They won't know a thing."

She reaches across the table and puts her hand on top of his. His cheeks burn.

"I don't want you to."

"Why not?"

"I'm afraid."

"I am, too," he admits.


They depart the aircraft and are lead to the medical station where they patch up wounded rebel fighters and even Capitol citizens. Any injured human is still a human. This team is neutral.

After four hours of fixing up the injured, Rory and Prim are relieved from their duties and taken to the City Circle where they're told to watch after a large crowd of district children, all under the age of ten. Prim and Rory stray close to eachother, never more than ten feet away, because this place feels so alien, and the fighting happening all around them reminds them of the bombing. Their hearts racing, they think they're relieved from these duties as well when Peacekeepers gather near them. Instead, they set up ropes, roping them all together like sheep. This, too, reminds them of the Reapings in 12.

Rory begins to argue with a Peacekeeper, demanding that they let them and the children go. He's worried, but the Peacekeeper points at the sky and a Capitol hovercraft hovers over them. Silver parachutes begin to drop down slowly. The children recognize these instantly and jump up, straining their arms to reach them. Prim notices a young little girl shivering, and drapes her coat over her shoulders.

The moment the parachute touches a child, it explodes. Rory screams for the children to run, and pushes some out of the rope, but they're just herded back in by Peacekeepers.

"DON'T TOUCH THEM!"

But they do. They all hope theirs will be different; food or medicine as they untie them, but each one explodes in their faces and catches them on fire. Half of the children are dead now. Prim has a group of children gathered around her but one touches her just lightly on top of her head and she bursts into flames. She's screaming, her hair turning to ash and every inch of her is on fire. Rory thinks he faintly hears Katniss screaming her name, but Prim is the one that's burning now.

He shoves the children away and pushes Prim on the ground. He takes off his coat and beats her with it, trying to bat out the flames. He's hoping, desperately, that somehow he'll be able to save her, but with a fire like this, he's not so sure. He's sure his heart is slowing with each scream she cries, each painful thrash she throws. Eventually, he does beat out the flame but her movements are slow, each blink a painful chore. Her lungs surely burn and Rory just wishes that it was him and not her, that he could take all of her pain away. But not this time.

Her entire body is charred, but her eyes remain unscathed. The worst thing even his imagination was incapable of creating was the sight he's having to endure at that moment. He's sobbing, with his hand on his mouth so if she says anything, he'll be sure to hear.

"SOMEBODY! WE NEED A MEDIC! HELP HER, DAMNIT!" he screams, his voice breaking at last. But nobody comes. It's a panic everywhere and it's like the world is crumbling all around them. Rory sees black and white, tears clouding his vision, and he can't hear a sound.

Prim closes her eyes, but opens them as soon as she hears Rory's voice again.

"Primmie, don't. Stay with me. They need you. I need you. You can't leave us now. Please don't."

She takes a sharp deep breath of air, which makes her wince and turn her eyes slowly up to his.

"I love you," she says.

He holds her hand gently, and he knows it hurts her but he just needs to feel her close to him. He's a sobbing mess and he's sure this is the first time he's ever cried, but it's for many reasons than one. Because she's so hopeless lying there, dying, because she loves him, and because this is his fault. It's all his fault. He should have taken the parachute instead.

"I love you, too. I always have," he says, choking back tears.

She looks at him for a long time, her eyes unblinking, and he's afraid she's dead but he can feel a faint pulse in her palm. He feels nauseous, ready to double over and throw up all of this like it never happened and Prim would be the same Prim before this god forsaken rebellion. She finally closes her eyes.

"Be strong," she croaks quietly, and that's it. No breath. No pulse. Gone. The bombs have got her and there's nothing he can do about it but sit there and cry.

He leans over her body and sobs and nobody tries to move him until it's night. A Peacekeeper grabs his arm but he twists around and punches him in the face. It takes him a moment to realize that he's wearing the traditional helmet with the face guard, but his message came across clear.

"YOU DID THIS TO HER!" he screams at him, thrashing his legs when he's picked up. Another Peacekeeper gathers Prim's body and starts to drag her away, her corpse helpless and breaking away. His foot comes down and hits the Peacekeeper right in the groin which causes him to keel over and drop him.

"GET OFF HER! DON'T TOUCH HER!" He's full of white-hot rage and runs at the Peacekeeper. His eyes are clouded with tears again and he can't see a thing so when he runs into the Peacekeeper's fist, it wasn't expected. He imagines himself floating up to heaven with her, holding her hand and smiling as they knock on the Gate.


It's been two years since her death and he still blames himself. Gale says that it's his fault, because he designed the bomb even though he wasn't aware what exactly the use was for, but Rory doesn't care. He could have pushed her out of the way and taken the parachute but he didn't see it until it was too late. He relives that horrible day every time he closes his eyes, so he doesn't anymore. He stays awake for days at a time but eventually sleep will kidnap him and drag him away to torture him with the memories of her last breath.

He doesn't speak at all and he doesn't eat until his mother starts crying. But even then, he eats as few bites as he can manage without feeling nauseous and gives the rest to his sister. He sees nothing, staring at nothing, caring about nothing. His mother checked him in to the hospital last year because she's worried about him. But he doesn't care.

He's skin and bones, and they hook him up to an IV. It gives him the nutrients he needs to survive but it's not enough. Sometimes he takes it out and lets it drip on the floor but they're too smart for that now. They put a sort of sticky paste over the IV so that it hurts to pull it out. But he doesn't care. He doesn't feel anything.

Another year gone. After a talk with Katniss, because of her similar symptoms, he's willingly been checked into a rehabilitation process. He's coping with it, but he still misses her. Writing letters to her helps. So does working on that song he started three years ago. Now it's finished.

He lives back in District 12 now, where he often visits Katniss and Peeta to help her cope too. He made Prim a tombstone and set a glass container there. He puts his letters inside and even her song. As of now there are three containers full. He's not happy, but he eats. He knows that that's what she would have wanted. She wouldn't have wanted him to wallow away in grief.

Another year. He doesn't go to Katniss' house ever since she planted those primroses. It hurts too much. Though, he's finally come to terms with the fact that she's gone.

But he'll always love her and he'll never forget.