Every year on his birthday Charlie's mother would steal him a book from the Mayor's library. "From your father," She'd say lifting a grimy glass in a mocking toast, "The bastard." When he was younger his mother and his older brother would all pile into his bed and read him that year's book. One year it was a field guide of plants, another year a story about a boy and girl from rival families who fell in love. "Complete nonsense," His mother had scoffed, "Written in gibberish." But Charlie had always liked it anyways.
His favourite book though was the one his mother nabbed on his twelfth birthday, the most beautiful thing Charlie had ever owned with gilded edges and over 400 pages long. His brother had shaken his head at her, "You better be careful, Ma, dear old dad might miss that one." But his mother had just shrugged her shoulders and stayed up half the night with Charlie reading.
They were old stories, myths the book called them, all about terrifying monsters and brave heroes, beautiful damsels and mighty gods. Charlie loved that book more than anything and as the years grew on it changed from a pristine white volume to a tattered dog eared thing no one would ever believe had come out of the Mayor's library. He had written in the margins, his favourite parts, little remarks to himself, and of course words he didn't understand, highlighted for future reference.
Words like Labyrinth.
Labyrinth.
The word echoes in his mind as he stands on his plate, looking, not at the gleaming Cornucopia filled with all the finest in lethal weapons but at what's sprawled out behind it. It's a giant maze, he can tell already, walls as tall as the justice building branching off from behind the circle of tributes. Some of them seem to be made of some sort of plant but others are made of brick, chain link fencing, even some sort of shiny metal. He gazes around the circle of tributes, Steven had warned him to stay away from the bloodbath. Just grab something near the outside and get out of there. You've got sponsors so don't get yourself killed over that. When had he said that? After the interviews? Last night? This morning before he had been dragged away by his stylist?
The gong goes before he figures it out. His feet kicking off hard on the ground, some sort of cobblestones, nicer than the ones in the Victor's Village. No one lives there but Charlie remembers sneaking around it in the night with some of his friends. All daring one another to go ring the doorbell. Story goes that the ghosts of dead Tributes lived in the empty houses.
He zigzags his way around the carnage, fast from years of playing tag in The Hob, bothering the Peacekeepers. Something metallic glints out of the corner of his eye and he dunks to avoid being sliced in half by the girl from...6? 5 maybe? He doesn't ponder it too carefully, grabbing a bundle of supplies as he crouches before running off into the maze. Charlie keeps running, like he's flying, like he's got Hermes' shoes and he feels invincible. He runs so long that morning turns to evening and the walls, which are made of some type of vine, turn into brick wall.
You can't sleep first night. Steven's voice in his head reminds him, "The Careers will be on the hunt, second morning is usually good for a few hours, just not the first night." So instead he spends most of the night checking over his supplies (A canteen with water, a small hatchet, two protein bars, and a pack of matches all wrapped up in a rough piece of cloth) and trying to deduce what the Gamemakers were thinking. Steven had said that was important too. Staying alive was partially about skill and of course luck but it was also a lot to do with the story the Gamemakers were trying to tell. Charlie had to make sure he fit into that story. He watches the faces in the sky. Only 6, that's uncommon for the first day but surprisingly both of the tributes from 2 are gone.
He leans against the brick wall for hours, the night getting colder but not horribly so. Charlie catches himself, once, twice, thrice, falling asleep but despite the exhaustion wearing at him he can't regret staying up with Steven. Even if the traps they had worked so hard on seem like they'll be pretty useless here, no trees, no bushes, no rocks, just cobbled ground and the neverending maze. The walls are 20 feet tall at least and are completely sheer and smooth. No possibility of climbing the brick ones then, he could attempt to get up in the vine section but something about the plants had felt sinister. Trust your gut, it's the only thing you've got. Steven's voice reminds him, Don't eat anything you don't recognize and for the love of Panem don't let yourself get seduced.
That had been a popular strategy for the past handful of games. There had been that girl from 1 who killed off six male tributes and one female by kissing them, her lips covered in poison. And then of course Gloria from 6 two years ago who had seduced and killed five tributes in the midst of various sexual acts. That had been a popular Games. Even in Steven's year there had been a boy who had seduced and kill a handful of the female tributes. Before he had wandered into one of Steven's traps.
Charlie remembers that year so vividly. It had been right after his mother had died and he and his brother had moved in with their grandparents to avoid the children's home. It was only marginally better, his grandmother was old and delusional spouting out nonsense and his grandfather never spoke, just stared at nothing with the raw looking holes where his eyes used to be. So Charlie watched the Games. He had seen bits and pieces before, it was mandatory after all but usually he'd just sit in front of the television, one of his books in his lap, only looking up if a particularly gruesome scream disturbed him. Now his books were gone, sold to buy food and blankets, the small amount of compensation their grandfather received was hardly enough to support two people let alone four. So Charlie watched the Games in complete for the first time in his life.
He remembered Steven looking so small and pale on his chariot, dressed in some sort of skin tight body suit painted to look like the inside of a motherboard. Three years later Charlie would find out that it was in fact painted onto his skin, gold and green. He remembered Steven's interview, him looking much more relaxed as he chatted excitedly about being apprenticed to an inventor and all the projects he was working on. Caesar Flickerman had grinned at him, "Well sounds like you'll just have to win so you can finish those projects!" Steven had smiled back and Charlie remembers that smile, all lips and no teeth, and he remembers thinking someone like that would never last five minutes in the arena.
He was so wrong.
Pushing himself up from the wall Charlie stretched out his arms, his shoulders cracking satisfyingly. He attempts to look for food jogging along the maze but eventually admits defeat and eats half of one of his protein bars. It's the best thing he's ever eaten and he has to physically stop himself from scarfing the rest. Charlie jogs along for another hour or so, changing paths quickly when he hears the clang of something metal and heavy in the distance. Eventually he ends back near the vines and finds himself a secluded spot where he can attempt to get a few hours of sleep. He's awoken twice by a canon boom, 8 down, 16 to go. Finally he's asleep and dreaming, something about his mother, when he's jolted upright by a bloodcurdling scream, and it's close. He starts running towards the noise. People get overconfident after a kill, they get lazy and it's easier to catch someone off guard. So he follows the noise, because he trusts Steven.
So when he sprints into the vine section, his hatchet in hand he's expecting the end of a standoff, someone dead or dying, and the victor close by. Only there's only one person, the boy from 11 dragging himself around the ground, crying hysterically. There's so much blood that at Charlie doesn't even see it. His leg is gone. His stomach turns, this can't have been a knife, or even a sword. To make a cut like that someone has used some sort of saw.
"Who did this?" He asks, the boy from 11 hiccups and shakes his head, he got a 9 in training, he's big brawny and is going to die. "Look, you're dying. There is no medicine they can send you that will fix this. But I can help you, I promise, you just need to tell me who did this. That's all."
"Wasn't a person, was the maze." He sobs, "Kill me please, kill me. KILL ME!" He screams his voice cracking. Charlie looks at the vines, they twitch like they know he's watching, he needs to get out of here and quickly.
"Do you have a knife?" Charlie could do it with the hatchet but a knife'll be quicker and cleaner. He nods and presses the knife into Charlie's hand, they're both shaking. "Okay. Okay. Just, think of someone you love." Charlie says and he slits his throat like they taught him in the training centre, quick and swift. And then Charlie's running, quick and swift. He has to get out of the vines, vines which can rip limbs out of your socket and then leave you bleeding.
Days pass, Charlie runs all day, sleeps for a few hours at night, avoids the vines, eats some protein bar, rinse and repeat. On the fourth day...no wait the fifth Charlie finds himself stuck. No matter what path he takes it leads him to the open space where the Cornucopia rests, the Gamemakers want him to cross through and he has no choice but to oblige. He braces himself as he sprints across, and sure enough he's hit from the side and rolls along the ground before coming to rest with the girl from 4 sitting on his chest. "Hello there." She purrs tossing her dark hair over her shoulder and holding down his wrists with hands that shouldn't be nearly as strong as they are. "Oh don't bother struggling, we both know you're no match for me. But I have a proposition for you. An alliance. What do you say pretty boy? You want to team up, or do you want me to cut out your guts? Your choice."
Charlie grimaces, he really has no choice. If he says no he'll be dead for sure, because this isn't a Career who ended up in training because they needed to fill a spot, this is a Career who ended up being trained because she likes to kill things. So he teams up with her, if only to prolong his life a few hours because he's realizing how very fond of his life he is. Her name is Aqua, which Charlie thinks is stupid but he refrains from telling her that, and she wants Charlie to help her kill the boy tribute from 4 and the girl from 1 who teamed up and tried to kill her in her sleep.
"So how'd you escape that one?" Charlie asks, half curious and half wanting to know what he can avoid for when he tries to do the same.
"Wouldn't you like to know." Aqua snaps from behind him, she refused to let him get out of her line of sight. He's a little bit flattered that she thinks he's big enough competition. They're almost down to the last 8, thats when things'll get really interesting. The Gamemakers really start to play up the the story, Charlie knows they'll make him out to be the underdog, you can't really help it when you're from 12, but he thinks he can make that work to his advantage.
They wander through the maze for hours, despite Charlie's doubts that they are simply going in circles Aqua seems scarily confident they're heading in the right direction. Finally, about half an hour after nightfall they stumble upon them. District 1 is sitting in District 4's lap and seems to be doing something very interesting with her tongue. Charlie watches as 4 pulls out a knife and runs it along the curve of her spine, almost lovingly. Only before he can plunge it in 1 produces a short sword and slices his neck from behind. 4 goes limp and the canon booms shaking the fence, it's the same type of fence that encloses District 12 and likewise it doesn't seem to be electrified.
Beside him Aqua makes what can only be described as a growl as she slinks in behind 1 and traps her by the throat with her forearm. "What!" 1 screams, sounding both terrified and confused. "You're dead!" She threatens struggling against Aqua. Charlie crouches, unsure if he's supposed to jump in and help or just hang back. Suddenly trumpets blare and the procession of faces are broadcast into the sky. The boy from 1, the boy from 4, and...Charlie falters. Aqua's face is shining in the sky with all of it's sharp beauty.
You're dead! It wasn't a threat. It was a statement. Aqua probably died in the morning, they had killed her in her sleep...this is...
1 screams, Charlie watches as Aqua. No, the mutt rips a chunk of flesh out of her throat with her hand, suddenly sporting large claws. He should run, but that sword, swinging a sword was more like swinging a pick-axe than a hatchet or a knife could ever be. He had the muscle memory and the strength, if he wants to live he knows he needs that sword. Charlie sprints past the girl from 1 and the mutt in a heap on the ground dashing towards the blade, shimmering bronze in the dim light. He's just closing his hand around the hilt when a voice curls around him and makes him falter. "Where do you think you're going pretty boy?"
The mutt grabs onto his arm and pulls him around so they're face to face. Her eyes glow unnaturally bright and Charlie hates himself for ever thinking this could be a real person. She runs a hand along his collarbone, almost tender before winding back and smacking him across the face. The blow rattles his skull and he can feel blood dripping down his face from where her claws cut him. "Not so pretty anymore. No wonder your daddy didn't want you. No wonder everyone left you. He doesn't love you, he'll never love you."
But Charlie isn't listening because he hears something else, a hum, the low hum of an electrified fence. Use your momentum, make their strength work against them. With everything he has he throws her against the fence, her claws snag on his arm and the flesh rips but it's worth it when she hits the fence and her body convulses painfully. Holding his hand to his face Charlie grabs the sword and all the supplies from 1 and 4 he can carry before running in the opposite direction, any direction. He only stops running when the blood loss begins to make him woozy. He sits against the wall and is so delirious that he almost misses the parachute. It's a small vial with some sort of medicine that, when applied to his gashes, makes them stop bleeding and scab over. He sighs in relief, partially because of the medicine, partially because the mutt was wrong, he does love him.
Though that just makes this whole thing worse doesn't it?
It had been the night before the Games, Charlie had been lying on the floor of Steven's room unable to sleep and had instead spent the time working on his trapping skills, which were pretty abysmal but at least it was something to do with his hands. For the first time Charlie had let himself think about winning, and for the first time he wanted to win because he might have had something to stay alive for. This stupidly brilliant boy who wanted so desperately to keep him alive. The one who had met him at the train station and let him destroy everything in his room and pretended not to hear him when he cried. The one who fiddled with his helmet before his chariot left and the one who was waiting for him backstage after his interview.
"I love you." He said in the launch room minutes before he entered the Game.
"Charlie, don't."
"I do." It hung there like a threat, a bet, a dare.
"Don't. Don't you dare tell me you love me and then make me watch you die!" Steven had shouted back voice echoing in the launch tunnel going from calm to angry in seconds. His face went red and his eyes gleamed from behind his glasses.
"I won't "I won't die, Steven I won't. I'll come back for you. I will. I promise. You're everything I have to live for."
"It's not that simple. Dying...sometimes it's better. I want you to live I want you Charlie, I do. But I can't..."
"I'll win I will."
"And then what? You go home with 23 ghosts walking behind you, the nightmares, the Victory Tour. And then, and then they make you come back and try and keep 2 people alive and no matter how hard you try you're going to loose at least one of them. Do you want that? Do you even understand what winning means?" Steven was shaking, maybe with fury, maybe with fear.
Charlie was struck silent, "Steven..." He reached out for him
"Oh god." Steven whispered, horror and fear and realization and love all wrapped into one.
And then there they were, two frightened children clinging together. Mouths pressed together like oxygen tanks, like life lines, like hope.
The medicine works wonders, and Charlie spends a day resting and reapplying the lotion. The next day he runs around the maze and practises with his sword. It's different from a pick-axe for sure but the muscles in his shoulders and arms are strong and steady from the mines and he feels more confident with it than he ever did with a knife. The next day he starts to get anxious. There haven't been any new deaths, no announcements, and the maze doesn't seem to be shifting to get them together. Whatever the hell is going on in the rest of the maze must be insanely captivating. So Charlie keeps his head down and hopes that whatever is keeping the Capitol so engrossed isn't more of those Mutts that look like people.
But really he knows that it can't be anything else. So he isn't exactly surprised when he finds the girl tribute from 3 with five bodies laying at her feet with only 3 different faces. She looks up at him, her eyes completely wild, her skin tinged with that strange transparency you see in kids from 'indoor' Districts like 3, 5, and 8. Charlie recognizes his district partner Arin bent and broken at her feet. The girl from 3 is wild and desperate, clearly having been tormented for days by the Gamemakers sending Mutts after her that looked like the people in her alliance.
Though most of Charlie's sympathy for her disappears the moment she begins running towards him. She's got some sort of horrible club with spikes and despite her thin limbs she wields it pretty well. He dodges to the left and her momentum sends her sprawling. She scrambles to her feet leaving her club and instead choosing to try and kill him bare handed jumping at him and knocking him down more with surprise than skill. She screams, a high pitched and primal noise as she tries to tear at any part of his body she can reach. She isn't a mutt, that much is obvious, but fear had turned her into something not quite human. She settles on pressing her hands over his mouth and nose, his vision was just beginning to darken at the edges when he managed to shake her off. Charlie jumps to a crouch and reaches for his sword but comes up with the club. Not having the time to be choosey he swings at her with all the energy he can muster catching her in the temple. The sound alone makes him retch and he's up on his feet and running before he could see the damage he had done.
The canon booms and the sound chases him through the maze. Panting and shaking he drops down against a wall. Stupidly he puts his sword down and ran a hand over his face. There was only 1 other tribute left. The girl from 10. Charlie half laughed, half sobbed to himself. Though the sound stuck in his throat. Suddenly he looks up and his brother was looming over him. "How's it going kiddo?" Kindle asked smirking at him.
Charlie hadn't met Steven for the first time he was reaped. He had met him for the first time during his brother's funeral, he had died of a chest infection that they didn't have enough money to buy medicine for. It was what generally constituted for a funeral in District 12 and besides the gravedigger Charlie was the only person there. Charlie had just turned around to head back when he found himself face to face with Steven Meeks, youngest ever winner of the Hunger Games. And of course he did something stupid and shouted, "You're Steven Meeks!" at him.
"Uh yeah." Steven said sounding vaguely embarrassed.
"You were really, uh, good in the Games. I mean with the traps and everything that was brilliant. I really wanted you to win." Charlie blurted out before he could help himself only seconds later realizing how horrible it sounded.
Steven raised his eyebrows at him, he looked a lot older in real life, or maybe he just had an old soul like his grandmother always said. "Shouldn't you have been routing for the tributes from here?"
"Well, uh, I mean, they didn't really have much chance did they," Charlie said halfheartedly and embarrassed, "Just, it's like if they did win all they'd do is come back and be rich or whatever. You have all your projects right? That's important."
Steven had stared at him, his mouth opening to say something when half a dozen people came running towards them. Including Steven's mentor, the capitol escort, and Charlie's father. "You had us worried to death" The escort triled, his high pitched voice whiny and irritating as he lead Steven off by the arm. He turned his head and Charlie caught a last flash of his red hair before he was gone. When he looked back his father was staring at him.
"He's dead." His father said. It wasn't a question. So Charlie didn't answer, and instead took off at a run back to the Seam where at least he knew who he was supposed to be.
Charlie gaped up at Kindle, who couldn't possibly be real leaning up against a wall in the arena. He jumped to his feet grabbing his sword. "Whoa, whoa, simmer down Chaz." Kindle says goodnaturedly.
"You're not real, you're dead, Kindle I watched you die."
Kindle rolls his eyes and gives him a look like he's being childish, "Did he tell you that? Seriously, Charlie don't be stupid. He's not one of us. He's from District 3, that's practically the Capitol. Do you think you can really trust him? I'm your brother. We're family."
He keeps a tight grip on his sword but doesn't advance towards Kindle. No, he's not Kindle, he's a mutt that some sick Gamemaker dreamt up in a lab to torment him. But how could a Gamemaker ever replicate his every mannerism so perfectly if he's been dead for 3 years? Don't let them distract you. Whatever you do you have to stay focused.
Kindle's dead. He was buried 6 feet under the same day he met Steven and he knows that. He doesn't just remember it he knows it. So he starts to move, planning his attack as his arm flexes ready to strike.
But he's faster. Charlie finds himself, pinned against the stone wall of the maze. "Come on little brother, let's not be hasty." Kindle is glaring at him with eyes that never gleamed that darkly his forearm pressed into Charlie's windpipe. He struggles against him but Kindle was always so much taller and bulkier. He's got a firm handle on the sword and swings it into the side of the mutt's head. Kindle yelps in pain and releases him.
Charlie tries to run but he grabs onto his leg, claws digging into vulnerable flesh. He tries in vain to shake him off his sword dangling useless in his hand. He wants to use it, just raise it and slash away until the thing is dead. But it has the face of his brother and he just can't. He can't watch him die again. It'd be so easy. To just let go and die. Why is he even fighting so hard? There's nothing left for him in 12.
But there's someone left for him in the Capitol.
He kicks out hitting him in the chest. It doesn't exactly send him sprawling but it forces him to let go, at least momentarily. He spins away throwing all his weight into the strike when the mutt throws himself at him, literally throwing himself on his sword. And for one horrible second Charlie is sure he's wrong, that he's just killed his brother. But the monster goes down, and in death it looks nothing like his brother.
And then he's angry. He's so angry he can feel himself shaking, and he holds onto that anger so when the girl from 10 turns the corner she really doesn't stand a chance despite being quick and deadly herself. Charlie strikes her down because he refuses to give the Capitol anything else. No finally epic battle, just a clean quick shot. The canon booms.
Ladies and Gentlemen I present the Winner of the 34th Annual Hunger Games! From District 12 Charlie Dalton! He can almost hear the groans in the Capitol, sure some will be excited, 12's first ever Victor, but most will be disappointed. Because a Games is only as good as it's final battle
When they pull him into the hovercraft to shove him full of medicines and erase all his scars he lashes out at them knocking down a nurse and a few orderlies before feeling the sharp jab of a needle and the world tilts sideways before going black.
His name was in the Reaping 22 times so it wasn't exactly a shock when his name got called alongside Arin's. She was a Seam kid, a proper Seam kid, not like Charlie who had always danced the line between Seam kid and Merchant kid. Poor but with obvious ties to the upper class. Once Kindle called them Serch kids and he thought that was appropriate as anything.
Just because it wasn't a surprise didn't stop him from shaking from nerves as he climbed the steps up onto the stage. Steven was standing alongside the other loaned mentor, a middle aged woman from 7 and he knew Steven remembered him. Scrawny kids standing in the rain, both of them running away from death.
When Charlie finally wakes up he finds himself strapped into his bed and none to inconspicuously. He can see the thick leather strap holding his chest down. He shouts and screams until an Avox runs in a pumps more sedative into his system. He's not sure why they need him out so often, he didn't suffer any severe injuries but the cycle repeats for what is surely several days.
Finally they let him see Steven. He sits on the edge of his bed and somehow convinces an Avox to undo the binds keeping Charlie's hands down. Steven takes his hand and looks it over carefully. With all the scrubs and polishes it doesn't look like the hand of someone who's ever worked in a mine much less the hands of a killer. That was one thing Steven had been very clear about, only killers could win the Hunger Games. He studies their hands together, his seem much too tan and Steven's seem less pale than they should. "You're delerious." He replies when Charlie tells him this, fiddling with his token.
"I think maybe it's the walls, the whiteness makes you look...well not tan, but just less pale..." He trails off as more sedative makes its way into his system. He drifts like this for a few days, waking up maybe having a brief conversation with Steven or his stylist before being pumped full of more sedative. Steven explained that they were repairing some of the scars he had acquired in the arena and pumping him full of nutritional supplements.
"It's the Capitol's way of disguising what they do to us. When we're in the Capitol we're beautiful, when we're in the arena we're far away, it helps keep the two separate in their minds. It's psychological manipulation of the highest degree." He whispered as Charlie was drifting off, delirious enough that everything Steven said sounded wonderful.
A few times he starts to drift on the top of the medical haze and he hears Steven saying, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." before sinking back under. He's never sure afterwards if he was dreaming or not.
Then finally, finally they deem him sufficiently alive looking for his post-Games interview. It's surprisingly not horrible, mostly because the boy on the screen looks absolutely nothing like him running through the maze, hacking and slashing with his sword. They even manage to make the mercy killing for the boy from 11 look heroic. Whoever did the editing is a genius because in the end it turns him into an underdog hero. Mostly he sits dumbstruck through the replay only making a comment when he's asked a question. He tries to play up the confident cocky angle the stylist had been pushing for since his sexy miner debut. Charlie thinks it all sounds flat and fake though. Finally, finally he's crowned and they let him back onto the train and he's finally alone with Steven properly and with full use of his arms.
It's just like in the launch centre, only in reverse, they're both shaking and crying and kissing and one of them whispers; "Oh god" but they never figure out who.
They stop in District 3 so Steven can get his things and Charlie spends the whole time flabbergasted by the sheer amount of stuff. The buildings are all built upwards not outwards like in 12 where space isn't so much of an issue. Even the Victor's Village is vertical and Steven's floor has a view of the entire district looking huge and smoggy. It's also ridiculously messy.
"What's this?" Charlie asks holding up one of the dozens of pieces of machinery laying everywhere from the kitchen table to the bathtub.
"Uh, it's a compression sensor for a force field which calculates the speed, weight and velocity of projectiles and then calculates a return path accordingly."
"Sorry, what?"
"It's a sensor for a force field which throws things back at you. Theoretically. It doesn't quite work yet." Steven calls over his shoulder from where he's been stuffing blueprints and files from his desk into a bag.
"You're so sexy when you talk all technical." Charlie says and even though it's not one of his best lines they still end up sprawled on Steven's kitchen table, pieces of half finished inventions knocked onto the ground.
There's a picture on the mantle of Steven with a woman who looks exactly like him and a man who has the same eyes. Charlie doesn't ask about it when Steven tucks it into his bag.
Finally, finally they're pulling into the station in District 12 and Charlie doesn't want to get off the train. The moment he does he knows it'll become real. That he killed 3 people (and 2 who looked like people) and that because he comes home Arin doesn't, it's in the rules. He re-destroys his room and refuses to leave for days. Finally they send his grandmother. She sits on the side of his bed and pets down his hair. "Chaz, where have you been?" She asks sounding genuinely confused, "There was a boy on the television who looked just like you."
She still needs him so he gets up and he goes home. His grandmother babbles on about how she missed him and how they'll have a nice supper and they'll do the same when Kindle comes back. Steven helps him gather up the few things that might have any value from his Grandparents house. He's crouching under his old bed to pull out some of his mother's things they've saved when he comes up with a battered book with gold leafed pages. There's a letter tucked between the pages and it can only be from one person. Charlie leaves the book behind. He's spent long enough living in fairy tales and trying to live up to what someone else thought was acceptable.
They move into the Victor's Village, Charlie, his grandmother, his grandfather, and Steven. His grandmother dies in her sleep a week before he goes on his Victory Tour and he's a little bit grateful for the excuse it gives him to leave dinner early while in the other districts, Steven whispering about it to Mayors. Being thought ungrateful better than having to see the families of the dead. By the time he gets back his grandfather is dead too. He just didn't want to live without her.
"I think that'd be me." Charlie whispers once, the dark making him feel reckless and brave, "I think I'd die if anything happened to you. Just no point to living anymore I suppose." Steven kisses him back in response, a silent 'me too, me too'.
It's hard. That first year. His tributes die early on, one in the Cornucopia, one hunted the first night. They didn't do anything wrong exactly, they just didn't have the odds in their favour as the saying goes.
It gets harder the next year when Steven has to leave, go back to District 3 and mentor his own tributes, because they only have 3 Victor's out there and Charlie can't keep him to himself forever. So Charlie's left alone trying to grapple with the reality of keeping children alive. He sent the boy that year medicine, it wasn't the right kind, not nearly strong enough but it was the best he could scrap together with his meager supply of sponsors. Most of which he knows only put money in because they think he's handsome in sort of a charming district way. Lucky for him the Capitol seems to like the tribute/mentor lovestory enough to stop him from getting sold off for an evening with the highest bidder, but not so much that they're interested in their everyday lives.
Then there are months, the long months between the Hunger Games when everything is good. Charlie decides his talent will be fixing the problems in the mines, better elevator shafts, more efficient equipment, new techniques. Steven helps with most of the technical stuff but Charlie deals with the miners. The people who helped him when he had nothing else to turn to. So he repays his debt as it were. It doesn't magically turn District 12 into a less harsh or poor place but maybe he prevents one person from dying, a family from starving, and it's enough.
Months turn into years, Steven gets taller than him which amuses him to no end. He finally finishes his force field and sends the designs back to District 3. "It could really help a lot of people, usually now they just use the force fields that are electrified, which is great for certain things but think of all the needless deaths this could help prevent." He's so excited that Charlie can't help but think of the boy in his pre-Game interview, so passionate and excited that Charlie couldn't help fall in love with him a little bit.
Usually about a month before the Reapings is the worst, both of them start having nightmares and Steven slowly but surely falls back into insomnia. They spend the extra hours coming up with pages and pages worth of notes to help them prep their tributes. They make lists of the likelihood of certain types of arenas and the strategies of past victors. The best way to capture the attention of the Capitol is to do something different, to be a new type of Tribute. Although the Gamemakers are coming up with new ways of catching the Capitol's attention to.
The Gamemaker who designed Charlie's arena and the following 3 was a particularly horrible bastard, liking to mess with the tributes and drive them to insanity. The 37th Games featured the addition of an injection of a chemical compound which prohibited sleep before the tributes were placed in the arena. This lead for the slow degradation of the Tributes sanity. Charlie had lost his early on but he watched as Steven's remaining tribute went insane before dying of dehydration 4 days in. Steven had sent him water, twice, but he never drank it, only screamed and screamed. By the time they pulled the Victor out (Tina Dire, District 9) she was incoherent and their was no post-Game interview that year. Rumour had it she only won because she was too simple to go crazy. Needless to say that Gamemaker was fired.
The new Gamemaker favours natural disasters and more traditional beastly mutts. The first year it was a forest with trees taller than buildings in District 3 and Charlie had his first tribute to make it into the top 8. Her name was Hestia, and she was quick and straight up brilliant. She ran straight into the Cornucopia and dove into the ground, lying still, faking her own death until the carnage died down. It was a gamble of course, but it paid off. As soon as the Career pack left to hunt the remaining tributes she killed the girl left on guard duty and took the supplies she needed. She survived and survived even after getting in a fight with a handful of Careers. It was the final 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3 she held on. Charlie was constantly wanted for interviews and commentary, "I'm going to bring her home Stevie. I am." He said one night eyes glued to the screen.
Gerard Pitts from District 10 won that year. Speed and smarts don't beat teeth and claws.
It isn't for 12 years that another Tribute from District 12 makes it into the final 8. And two at that.
Charlie watches transfixed as day after day passes and Haymitch and Maysilee refuse to die, trekking on and on in the beautiful and deadly arena. When they reach the edge though and Haymitch discovers the force field his heart stops. Because these aren't the usual force fields used in the Games, the inelegant ones which will kill you on contact, this is the one which will throw you back. This is Steven's work.
Beside him Steven, (34, still taller than him, still brilliant) begins to shake. With fury or grief it's impossible to tell. "It was supposed to help people." He whispers going white and clutching at the tablet which controls and monitors all sponsors contributions. The Capitol has made him into a Gamemaker without him even realizing, they've turned him into the one thing he swore he would never be. Cruel.
"Steven. Steven. Look at me." Charlie grabs onto his shoulders and presses their foreheads together. "Steven, sweetheart. Maysilee and Haymitch need us. Okay? Are you okay?"
"I'm fine. I'm fine." He whispers sounding shaky but functional. It doesn't matter in the end though. Maysilee is killed and nothing he could have done could have saved her. But there's still Haymitch.
"Another cocky Victor from District 12." Steven mutters because he knows Charlie doesn't get along well with Haymitch, though it's most due to how simillar they are. Especially since Haymitch threw a chair out of the train window.
"I doubt it." Charlie says watching the girl from District 1 running after Haymitch, "Probably another Career." Only then the unthinkable happens. He uses the force field. The one no one was supposed to know about much less use as a weapon. The girl dies and District 12 gains it's second Victor.
Charlie Dalton looses the love of his life.
Because he wasn't Haymitch Abernathy's mentor. Steven was.
The official report says he was killed when a rebel sympathizer broke into his prep room while he was preparing for the post-Game interview and slaughtered him along with his prep team.
On the ride back to 12 it's Charlie this time who throws a chair through the window of the train.
He waits. He waits until after the Victory Tour, he didn't have to go but didn't want Haymitch to be alone. He waits until after he's told Haymitch everything he can about how to survive after the Games, how to train Tributes, how to cope. Because being in the Games it isn't like getting a cold where you eventually get over it, it's like loosing a limb and you just learn how to hide your limp. Everything he forgets to say he writes down, he writes and writes and writes. He leaves it all on the kitchen table with a pin. A pin his mother gave him. A pin he gave to Maysilee Donner. A pin the Capitol returned to him with her body. A pin with a note to give it to her family. A pin which would one day spark a rebellion.
But Charlie isn't thinking of Mockingjays, or the Games, or Rebellion when he places the gun to his head. He thinks of all his tributes, his grandfather, his grandmother, Kindle, even Haymitch. But mostly he thinks of Steven. Steven Meeks. Victor, mentor, lover, genius, Steven.
And then he doesn't think of anything.
There's an old story in District 12, that the ghosts of Tributes and Victors live in the empty houses in Victor's Village. Go on, ring a doorbell.
I dare you.
A.N. Holy crap. Okay, so apparently this is what happens when I get caught up in the lead up to the Hunger Games and the subsequent post-viewing excitement. I think this is probably the longest one-off I've ever written. I hope you liked it. I tried to fit it into canon as seamlessly as possible but of course I added my own spin. If you find anything that directly contradicts canon however please let me know. Thanks for reading! (and please review!)
-C