A/N This one…. Was really, really hard to write. I've edited it way more than any other piece I've written. I'm pretty happy with how it turned out, overall. It's by far my longest one, and I'm a little iffy with the ending, but I this is the best I can do :) Let me know what you think! Oh, and this is the last piece that was written before Mockingjay's release.
The name of the District 8 girl from THG (Rahel) is taken from an excellent book, The God of Small Things.
This scene: CF When Katniss and Peeta visit District 8 during the victory tour.
Rahel's Brother
I expected them to enter with big (fake) smiles and nice (fake) speeches, but when Peeta Mellark and Katniss Everdeen go on stage after their tour of the district, they're subdued. He looks worn, she looks tired, and their speeches are brief, impersonal. Behind me, where the rest of the district stands, I can feel their fury, their hatred for the Capitol and everything they have done to us. If things were different, I would've stood their with them too, cheered Katniss Everdeen's name as well. But all I can do is stare at Peeta Mellark, his arm around his girlfriend, and think of ways to kill him.
Strangling.
Blunt object (maybe a framed picture of my sister, for a little poetic justice) to the head.
A gun, if I wanted to be quick (as though they were).
I could choke him, set him on fire, drown him. Lock him in one of the storage rooms of the factory and starve him to death.
Or, I could let him be tortured, hover at the edges until he's bleeding so much he's choking on his own blood, and then stab him in the chest. And apologize.
Again, for a little poetic justice.
He looks at me (at us, our little family ripped at the seams with a big, gaping hole where Rahel should be) and says she didn't deserve what happened to her. What he let happen to her. I stare at him until he looks away.
When they're done, the district applauds, loudly, too loudly, and my hands are heavy at my sides. They get off the stage and the guards are distracted getting the crowd to disperse, making sure we all behave. The Peacekepers are distracted enough that I head to the Justice Building. I even manage to get inside, where a slim man who would look normal without the freaky gold eyeliner smiles at me politely, obviously thinking I work here.
"Excuse me," I say quickly, stopping him. "I have a message for Peeta Mellark from our Mayor, can you tell me where he is?"
"Through that door," he says with another friendly, perky smile. Ugh. I force myself to smile and walk to the door just as a Peacekeeper walks out.
"What are you doing here?" He demands, grabbing my arm. I struggle to shake him off. "Get out or I'll haul you out myself."
"What's going on?" Mellark demands, stepping out. He looks at me for a moment, a slight frown on his face, like maybe he remembers me, before looking at the guard questioningly.
"He was tress-" The guard starts.
"I have a message for you from the Mayor," I interrupt, shaking the guard- Cyrus? Cyrlus? Something-that-ends-with-an-us- off me.
"It's fine, let him in," Mellark says, even holding the door for me as I go in. Well, I always thought polite killers were cliché.
"What's your message?" He asks, turning to me as he rubs his face with his hand, eyes half-shut. Maybe he's tired. At least he's not dead, right?
"You killed my sister," I say flatly. He face freezes instantly. "You killed Rahel."
He closes his eyes and steps back. I step forward, keeping the same distance between us. I'm trying to figure out whether I have enough time to kill him before he calls the guards. What with the noise of the crowd and the talk outside, we won't be heard if I'm quick about it.
"I didn't want to," he whispers, shaking his head.
"You could have stopped them," I say, strangely calmly. I'd always imagined me screaming, yelling, punching him before stabbing him with a handy knife. Not talking civilly to my little sister's murderer.
"They would've killed me. You don't know-"
"What it's like?" I cut in, my voice shaking. I try to steady it. This is not the time to be weak. "You killed my little sister."
"You think I'm not haunted by that? By her? You don't understand-"
"You think I don't know something about ghosts?" I get out painfully, stepping closer. "You think I'm not haunted by her? You don't know what it's like, you got to keep your life and your girlfriend's!"
He flinches. "And I feel guilty every single day. She's the only person I killed in the Games and that's enough. But…" He looks at me pleadingly, like he wants- needs- my forgiveness. "When I came back, she was almost dead. She was in pain and I couldn't fix it."
I remember.
"It's okay," he says gently, as my whole world falls apart. "It'll be over soon."
"Make it fast," she whispers. I'd always teased her for not being brave, but at this moment, as she asks for her own death, I realize she is the bravest person I know… Knew.
The knife is sharp, and he plunges it in deep. She's dead in seconds.
And so am I.
"I forgive you." The words slip out before I can stop them. I don't want to forgive him. Without my anger, my hate, there is nothing left. Just a Rahel-shaped hole in my world.
"Maybe you should forgive yourself instead," he says gently. He clasps my shoulder briefly, and I think of how screwed up this all is. Being comforted by the guy whose murder I have planned since my little sister's death. But it's useless.
"What's it like, killing someone?" I burst out. He's silent for a while, and I know he knows I planned to kill him. I look away. His eyes look to understanding.
"I hope you never know. I know I'll never forget," he says finally, and leaves.
Leaves me with my ghost.
Later, there is fire. Explosions. A rebellion, they call it. It feels more like chaos and panic and a crazed, animal-like fury. My mother is dead. Father is gone, dead too, maybe. I don't know. There's no time to think, only act.
The next thing I know, a Peacekeeper is standing in front of me, a gun pointed at my chest. I stumble backwards and trip over Father, a gun still in his stiff hands. I wrench it from his grasp and point it at the Peacekeeper. And for a brief, everlasting moment we look at one another.
I'm not wearing anything but a shirt, and the bullet plunges in deep. I wonder whether I should've shot the Peacekeeper. I wonder whether Rahel has forgiven me. I wonder if now I won't feel guilt anymore, because the only blood on my hands is hers. Maybe the guilt will leave.
Or maybe guilt doesn't work like that. Maybe it never leaves you. Maybe blood never really washes off.
Prompt: For Penelope Wendy Bing who requested the scene where Peeta kills "Rahel". Thank you for the many wonderful reviews. While this isn't actually the scene you requested, I did show it in a memory. So I'll consider the prompt answered :)