Title: "TF5"
Books - Hunger Games - Rated T - Adventure / Suspense - Foxface
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Summary:
Fifteen year old Jacqueline watches in awe as the twenty-four tributes rise to their podiums and the 74th Hunger Games begin. May the odds be ever in your favor! No, wait. May the odds be ever in her favor! This is her third time at the Hunger Games; it has become her life. But she finds out that in the darkness of her world it is she who might be one of those who never return...
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A/N: This is a bit of different take on a Hunger Games fanfic story. It is not a parody. It is a carefully designed story that threads its way through Suzanne Collins' Hunger Games novel (the first novel of the set) with the intention of not contradicting her original story at any point. This is an Adventure / Suspense story. You might need to read as far as Chapter 2 or 3 before you understand what is going on. Unlike other Hunger Game fanfics, this does not name any of the characters you know in the book; however, it depends highly on all of them. The better you know the Hunger Games story, the more this will make sense.
A/N: There are two peer stories to this one, "Seneca" and "Brightly." There is no order to them. They refer to each other but not in any manner wherein you need to have read one before the other. I hope you enjoy them all. ( You can hop through my Profile in order to find the others of the set. )
A/N: I'd like to thank my Reviewers, without whom this would be crud. For this section they are 'A-Wayward-Soul', 'Lunatic9289', and two others (Who need get accounts here. Yes, you know who you are!) ... you're all wonderful.
Disclaimer: Suzanne Collins and I agree that Hunger Games is her creation and possession, including all its characters, story, setting and so on. I own nothing and make no claim, except that my fingers typed out this story, "TF5".
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Prologue:
Too late to react, I hear the approach of footsteps. I open my eyes to the darkness that is ever present in the tunnels. I've been dreaming of lying in a warm summer field of grass, looking up at stars in a night sky - I push this aside. Behind me I can feel the warmth of Vic as he sleeps against the tunnel wall. But then I hear the rustle of pant leggings as the arriving figure crouches down before us. I want to shield my face from what could be a blow, but my arms are up inside my sweatshirt for warmth.
In a hushed tone, "Jacqueline," says a deep male voice.
I know from this one word whom this must be. Pluteron, himself. I panic. Despite my sleepiness I try to get a bearing on where I am and on what I am doing. Thrusting my hands out the bottom of my sweatshirt I grab the tribute tracking monitors on my waist. They glow into life and I start my report. "TF12 P5" I stammer, correctly using the protocol that has been drilled into me for years. I focus on the readouts. "Jennifer... I mean tribute F12, sorry sir, is sixteen yards to the east... she is..."
"Jacqueline," he interrupts. "I'm not here about that. I came to see how you are doing."
As always, his deep bass voice speaks slowly and carries a musical ring. It warms me as if he is verbally embracing me.
"Oh," I manage, confused. He's not here about my job. Pluteron is here because he wants to check on me? I don't know how to interpret this.
"We begin next week. I only wanted to see how you are doing."
"Why me?"
"Jacqueline, you refuse to accept it, but you are the one they all look to."
I don't know what to say.
"They do, dear. Even the Career assignees."
This, I seriously doubt. Most of them would like to see me ground into dust.
"So I wanted to know how you are feeling."
"I'm fine, sir," I reply, not sure where this is going. I don't want to tell him about my fevers and chills. Nor about what I've done with my left arm - or, rather, what Jack did to my left arm.
A rough hand, his, touches my cheek and trails down to my chin. He must be wearing night vision goggles if he can do this. How else could he have found me? There are miles and miles of tunnels. Clearly he can see in the dark.
"Okay, then. Remember, if you ever need my help, all you have to do is ask."
"Yes, sir," I answer, still confused.
"Good. Now you go back to sleep. Jennifer won't be getting up for hours. Get your rest."
Then his face draws close to mine. I cannot see him but I visualize his large, round, brown face. The warmth of his breath flows across my cheek. "You. You are our Persephone. I know you have your troubles, but in a little while you will rise from here and return to sunlight."
And with that, Pluteron stands up and walks away. His footsteps recede and are quickly hard to discern. He must be wearing soft soled shoes in order to be making so little noise. Soon only the quiet intermittent noises of the tunnel are left. Yet his fine cologne lingers in the air.
"That was different," whispers Vic. I thought he was asleep.
"Yes."
I'm not sure what else to say. Who is Persephone? And: Rise and return to sunlight? Maybe it is Pluteron who needs to be checked on, not me.
Soon I hear Vic's settled breathing return. I snuggle against him, my back up against his chest. For tonight we remain two teenage misfits, dressed in rags, sleeping together for warmth, alone on the packed dirt floor a tunnel network that goes on forever. I pull his arm down a little so I can use the softness of his relaxed bicep as my pillow. His nose, behind my head, must be buried in my hair. I try to return to sleep. Over and over I try pushing aside concerns about why Pluteron would come out and find me, personally, in the middle of the night. Exhausted yet uneasy, I yearn to return to my dream of summer grasses and stars above. But I can't.
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[2012-Aug-31]: Initial posting.
[2013-Jan-04]: Edited to insert minor corrections.
[2013-Apr-21]: Minor corrections.