It's been a while! I'm super sorry, but in the course of however long I've been away, I've; fractured my finger, gotten food poisoning, started school, dealt with my uncle's death (it finally hit me a few weeks ago), dealt with my cousin's issues, avoided dealing with my own, stopped cutting, stopped drinking, and done a bunch of other things that I'll talk about later, I'm sure. But, I'm back!

Disclaimer: Do I look like I own anything? I didn't think so.

WARNING: SUICIDE, ABORTION, F-BOMBS, AND OTHER SHENANIGANS.


commence

...

When she wakes up this morning, there's an unbelievable sense of dread that's settled in the pit of her stomach, and no matter what she does, she can't shake it. It's a struggle for her to get up, even more so to shower and get dressed for the day, keeping her eyes away from her stomach, keeping her mind away from what she's going to do.

She half expects Cato to come running into her house, expects him to try to dissuade her, but he doesn't, and she finds herself walking towards the hospital, coat wrapped tightly around her as she keeps her eyes on the ground.

...

The procedure is simple. She walks home afterwards.

...

She has dreams.

Of a dark haired little girl with Cato's smile and her eyes, whose silky curls are braided carefully, and whose laugh is like salvation.

She's nameless, ageless, and sometimes she speaks, but most times she's just silent, just staring accusatorily at the girl that would have been her mother. She's never quite sure what to say. In her dreams, she tries to talk to the girl, and sometimes she responds.

It's usually just one question.

"Don't you love me?"

She's not sure if she's capable of love, but she didn't know she could feel this much.

...

She volunteers in place of a quavering twelve-year old girl, whose mother is only seventeen years older and sobbing, and it feels like she's balanced the scales a little. Cato watches her walk up the stairs to the stage.

(Not that she looks as him. She's just always been able to feel his eyes on her. Not that she's ever told him)

When she locks eyes with him in the crowd, he's– oh, fuck, he's crying.

She closes her eyes for a moment, and feels ill, because the little lost girl asks, "Don't you love me?" She dips her chin a bit, nodding to the figment of her imagination.

She does love her.

That's why she's doing this.

...

She's in the final four. It's her, and the partners from Twelve, and the girl from Five. When it's announced that two can go home, if from the same district, she decides to die.

It's perhaps the first selfless thing she's ever done in her entire life.

...

Clove avoids him for weeks, and he spends the time thinking things through. Does he really want to be a father? Or, better question; is he capable of being a father? He doesn't think so.

But he's already so in love with this child, their child, with the idea he has in his head of this baby that's half Clove, and half him, and that baby is gorgeous, looks just like its mother.

But is that a good enough reason to fight Clove to keep it? He's not sure.

He doesn't mention it to his mother, because he's not sure if it will break her or send her into a rage, and he's not sure which is a scarier option.

He wakes up on Monday with a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, and he almost goes over to her house, almost begs for her to keep it, almost promises her everything he can give her.

He doesn't.

Two weeks later, he finds out that it's over.

He doesn't sleep for days.

...

Clove volunteers for a little girl who doesn't look nine, let alone twelve. He watches her walk to the stage, and he sees that she's going into this to die and it terrifies him, because he's really not sure what's left of him, after her.

Nothing good, at least.

...

Two cannons fire.

The star-crossed lovers from Twelve win.

Drusa Fervor walks into her son's room to find him sprawled on his bed, his brain splattered on the back wall and a bloody picture of that Asphodel girl clutched in his hand.

The Capitol falls.

Life goes on.

No one remembers the girl that wanted to die or the boy who wanted her or the baby that could have saved them both.

...

"Don't you love me?"

...

Yes.

...

fin


I have mixed feelings about this one, just because of the controversial subject matter. But whatever. Review?