A.N. Salutations. I am just about fully recovered from my strep throat.
Disclaimer: I don't not not not not not not own the hunger games.
Beetee was a scientist, an inventor. He worked with wires and springs whee an artist worked with paints and pastels.
He knew that you had to be careful, or else you would get hurt.
In the arena, you couldn't be as careful as you wanted to. He hadn't been able to protect Wiress. She had been taken away from him.
So now, in the bleak confines of District Thirteen, he threw himself into his work. Everything he did, he thought of her. There wasn't a day when he didn't wish he had protected her.
She had been like a sister, the one he never had. He should have- no. It was no use going down that road. It would just make him feel more guilty. Instead, he turned his guilt into anger. Anger at the Capitol, mostly.
Some at himself, too.
He couldn't protect Wiress, but he vowed to help stop what happened to her from happening to anyone else.
Some people thought he didn't do enough for the rebellion. He did.
He put his whole being into it; all of his greif and anger, his sorrow and guilt. He fought without armor or weapons.
He fought with electricity, wires, science.
But he knew that he had to be careful. Because if you're not, you'll get hurt.
A.N. Not too bad, I hope. Please send me your ideas!
FSP