Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own the Hunger Games or Once Upon a Time. I just had a desire to write this, and I know it's most likely going to be emotionally crippling. Whatever. Here goes.

Chapter One: Ab Initio

For only being twenty-eight, Emma Swan had far too many memories she'd rather forget. So many moments she wished had never happened. On occasion, she wished she'd never been born at all.

Though, her sole reason for remaining lay with his head on her lap, softly breathing as he slept. Her hand lay on his light brown hair, her fingers near the large scar on his cheek. Every time she looked at the scar on her son's cheek she felt sick. He twitched in his sleep, causing her heart to skip.

She still couldn't believe he was here with her. It was a miracle, but hardly a good one. The horrors of the entire ordeal weighed heavily in his mind, a feeling Emma knew all too well. She thought he would be safe from it all, since victor's children were almost never reaped (mostly because victors tended not to have children).

He was not even thirteen yet, what were the odds he would be chosen? Clearly not good ones, Emma thought, tears brimming her eyes. Having to mentor her own son had been one of the most maddening experiences of her life. How could she possibly help as she essentially was forced to watch his funeral? And not only that, how could she invest in the poor girl reaped with him? Gretel never stood a chance.

She swallowed, her hands beginning to shake slightly so she rest her hand on her son's head. Closing her eyes, a singular tear rolled down her cheek. After her own Reaping, Emma had lost the ability to properly cry. The events that occurred the year after her victory only solidified this.

The phone rang, a noise that made Emma jump and her heart constrict in her chest painfully. Henry groaned as she lifted his head up and replaced her lap with a pillow under his head. She moved to the phone, wishing her hand would stop shaking as she picked up the receiver, "Hello?"

"Hello Emma, it's been awhile." The woman's voice on the other end of the line sent shivers of both rage and fear down Emma's spine. The blond grit her teeth as she attempted to think of something to say, but she was quickly cut off. "Your son is such a crafty little thing, aren't you proud?"

"Very." Emma's words sounded like a rush of steam from a small opening, scalding and precise.

She heard a chuckle, "I'm sure. What was the name of your other tribute? Gretel? She just didn't stand a chance did she?"

I wish I could climb through this phone line and gut you right now, Emma's thoughts were growing increasingly hostile and unstable and her hand began to shake violently. "I've done everything you've asked, please just-"

"Emma, you don't get to make requests." The president's voice cut her off, "But I was just calling to remind you not to misbehave on his Tour." The woman's voice suddenly went low and Emma thought she was going to be sick, "We don't want a repeat of your Victory Tour." There was a click and the call was ended, with the dial-tone buzzing in Emma's ear.

"Mom?" Henry had sat up on the couch, his voice pitchy with panic.

She rushed over to his side, "It's nothing, go back to sleep."

He looked at her hands, with his hazel eyes that were a mix of her own and his late father's. "Your hands are shaking." He stood up, grabbing her right hand and tugging her towards the door, "Let's go for a walk."

"Henry, you just got back-"

"Mom, I want to go for a walk."

It was a disgustingly beautiful day outside, something Emma wished she didn't resent. Given the events of the past 24 hours, it was hard for her to appreciate anything other than the fact that her son was standing beside her. They walked along the wire fence that kept them inside the district, the hum of electricity was particularly prevalent. President Heart clearly upped the standards for today.

They sat in the field beside the fence, closest to the Seam, the poorer area of District 12. Emma absently picked at blades of grass, while her son pulled up a dandelion and blew the seeks into the wind. "I've always wanted to travel." Henry suddenly said, making his mother frown.

What was she supposed to say to that? "The Victory Tour isn't exactly known for sightseeing." She couldn't help a slight smile, mostly at the absurdity of it all.

He shrugged, turning to look out at the forest as it sprawled out into infinity beyond the fence. "What if we..." His voice trailed off, and he plucked another dandelion.

Emma scooted over beside him, "What if we..?"

His hazel eyes met her own, "Left. Ran into the woods, forgot about all of this." He was quiet, his body tense but his tone very serious.

For such a young boy, at the age of twelve Henry was far more intelligent than half the adults Emma knew. Unfortunately, neither of them would never make it too far. What Henry had never been aware of was that Emma was particularly well loved in the Capitol. She'd never known why, but she was adored. In a sort of untouchable kind of way, much to her incredible relief. Other adored victors were much less fortunate.

However, if she ever dared to take a step out of line or even try to escape... they'd be caught almost instantly. At least, that's what she'd always thought. She'd never seriously considered escaping up until now, since she was too afraid of something happening to Henry while they fled. But the Hunger Games had proven her son was a true victor of District 12, made of coal that had turned into diamonds. While Emma certainly wasn't an expert, someone once told her that diamonds were the strongest stone in the world.

"Henry," Her tone matched the level of gravity as his own, "Never talk about this ever again." As they walked back home, she pulled him over to a tiny patch of sand she was convinced was out of view of any cameras, she quickly scribbled in the sand: never out loud. Once she saw he registered what she wrote, she quickly changed the words into what appeared to be a strange drawing. That way, no one could question what she'd done.

As they meandered back to their lonely Victor's Village, Emma knew that things were not going to remain the same any longer. The Capitol had taken everything from her, and she and Henry were never going to be their pawns again.

That night, she stared out into the endless forest from her second story balcony, watching the sun dip under the horizon. This would be her last Victory Tour.

Each chapter will get longer and longer, I have a vague story idea. It'll mostly be following the 'Catching Fire' plot, and I probably won't go into the whole Mokingjay plot-line. I want this one to be a shorter story, with Sins of My Youth being my main CS fic. Review if you like it or think I'm crazy (or both)?