Trigger warning: Abusive parenting, alcoholism, a homophobic slur. This one's pretty dark at the beginning.

Marshall Thornburg, District 2

"We heaved relief

As scores of innocents died."

The Decemberists, Calamity Song

The 10 Biggest Heroes of Marshall Thornburg's Life:

Mars Thornburg

Mars Thornburg was a war hero. He fought for the Capitol against those insurgents who dared to oppose them, and he fought well. His son Marshall thought the world of him, and for good reason. He was a hero.

But when he came home from the war, something was wrong. The strong, powerful, confident man that Marshall remembered was gone, and an empty shell replaced him. He spent hours staring out the window, lost in his own thoughts. He stopped eating, he stopped sleeping, and he let himself go. Whatever the war did to him, it ruined his life.

Marshall didn't know when it happened exactly. He woke up one morning, went over to the window in an attempt to coax some food into him, and realized the steady rising and falling of his chest had stopped. Doctors said he simply lost the will to live.

Marcus Thornburg

The person who replaced Mars as Marshall's caregiver was his brother, Marcus. He was 18, old enough to legally care for Marshall, but not old enough to do it well. As Marcus desperately searched for a job, his brother was left to steal food for a living, doing the barest minimum to survive. But Marshall loved his brother. Marcus cared about him, though he wasn't very good at showing it. So when peacekeepers shot Marcus in the chest for no reason, Marshall was heartbroken. Where else would he go? Who else would take him?

Matthew Thornburg

The answer was his uncle, Matthew. Matthew had his demons to be sure, but out of the goodness of his heart he took Marshall in. Hopefully Matthew would be finally permanent, he thought as he moved in.

His wish had evaporated after 24 hours.

Matthew may have taken him, but he certainly didn't want Marshall. Matthew couldn't hold a job, he drank a lot, and whenever something bad happened, he got angry. And when he got angry, he took it out on Marshall.

Marshall hated the feel of his uncle's fists against his face, but he took it in silence. Matthew had taken him in when he didn't have to, and he at least owed him that.

Ajax Markinno

Marshall watched the first Hunger Games with his brother. Mars would have been there but he was catatonic already. When he saw the 24 tributes take a vow of peace, he got angry. They were supposed to fight! As punishment for their crimes!

When the peacekeepers opened fire, then the good stuff started happening. The tributes started hacking away at each other, and Marshall knew that what they were doing was right. It was their fault, after all.

The last tribute in the middle of the Arena was the girl from Six. At first, Marshall was confused as to why she wasn't the winner, and then he remembered. The boy from his home district, Two, had ran off with that Eight boy for the edge. Marshall watched as Six walked up to Ajax and Wyatt and begged him to let her go home. He watched with glee as Ajax killed her, then killed his ally. Ajax knew what the Hunger Games meant, and it was only fit that the best district should be the one to win.

Orion Rossi

His uncle's abuse reached it's worst after the 7th Hunger Games, when Lorelei Jewel won. He knew once he saw he volunteer that he would, too. A lifetime of fame, or a lifetime of pain? There was no question. But then an idea occurred to him. If he was going into the Hunger Games, shouldn't he train? It would be a good idea, right? A fight to the death wouldn't be easy, especially for a malnourished kid like him. And who better to train him then someone with firsthand experience in the Games?

It took a lot of courage to ask Orion Rossi to train him for the Games. Orion was, for lack of a better word, scary. He killed nine people, after all. But Marshall needed his help. And when Orion marched into their apartment and punched Matthew in the stomach, he knew he'd made the right decision.

Orion and Marshall developed an interesting relationship. Orion was a tough teacher, that much was certain, but since Orion had won when he was only sixteen, he was only a year older than Marshall. Their relationship wasn't just that of mentor-student. They became friends.

Best friends.

Until that day, barely a week before the reaping, that Marshall confessed that he loved Orion more than just friends. However, the last thing he expected Orion to say to him was agreement.

"I saved your life," Orion said. "I don't know why, but now I do. This helps it all make sense."

The week before the Games began was one of the happiest of Marshall's life. Orion was a great boyfriend, and truth be told, they were happy. It almost made Marshall reconsider volunteering. But then the unthinkable happened.

Matthew came back.

He was furious at his nephew abandoning him, and dragged him back to their apartment with the promise that he would never see his fag of a trainer again.

The next day, Marshall volunteered.

Laeila Darvis

Marshall's district partner was a girl named Laeila Darvis. She wasn't the strongest in the Arena, no Lorelei Jewel to be sure, but she was scrappy, and not afraid to get her hands dirty. She was the first tribute to the pile of weapons at the center and she was the first one to kill someone, the tiny girl from 9. By the time her body hit the sand, Marshall had a kill of his own, the boy from 3. The duo combined killed eight tributes. The only other one to kill someone was the boy from 5, Thompson Jones. He was big, and probably going to be a problem, but Marshall wasn't scared. If he and Laeila could kill eight tributes, a big guy like Thompson wouldn't be a problem.

He couldn't be more wrong.

The final three were Thompson and the Twos. They had the perfect plan. Marshall would walk up to him, no weapons visible, and tell him that he was the only one left. Thompson would attack him, Laeila would jump out of the shadows and kill him. Except for one problem. Thompson had much better eyesight than they'd given him credit for. He saw Laeila from a mile away. Marshall told him he was the last one, and he knew he was lying. But instead of going for Marshall, like he should have, he attacked Laeila.

He killed Laeila.

Thompson Jones

Marshall didn't even think as he attacked Thompson. He drew his sword and shoved it into the bigger boy's chest. Thompson collapsed to the ground, the life bleeding out of him. Before he died, though, he managed to utter one word.

"Why?"

Marshall didn't have an answer for him. Thompson's question haunted him as he came home to his uncle, proceeded to reject his uncle, moved in with Orion, and, when his uncle tried to take him back, he killed his uncle. All through it, Thompson made him wonder. Why did he kill those people in the Games? What made him such a killer? Was it Orion? Surely not. Could it be his uncle? Probably. But why did he kill Thompson? He didn't know the boy. It couldn't be because he'd killed Laeila, he didn't know her very well, either.

Eventually he worked up the courage to ask Orion about it.

"It's just how we've been raised," he said. "They've told us the Games are the future, and who are we to fight that? We kill because we have to. It's as simple as that."

Julius Vextal

Marshall didn't mentor Beatrix Carmen. He didn't mentor Callum Gray, either. Both victors, legends in their own right, but neither were products of Marshall's teaching. But when the tributes for the 27th Hunger Games were chosen, he saw something he'd never seen in a tribute before. As soon as he saw Julius Vextal, something inexplicable told him that Julius was his.

Julius was the ideal tribute. He was strong, but not too strong. He could kill, but he wasn't malicious. He knew how to play to the crowd, and he did it well. Julius knew what he was doing. But it was a discussion with him before the Games about their very nature on his last night that really shed light on Julius' strength.

"I don't see the Games as punishment," he said. "And I don't see them as evil, either. They may be wrong, sure, but they give order to a chaotic world. There are people out there who hate them, but the way I see it, why fight City Hall? I can't change the Games, but I can win them, and hopefully make my district, and myself, better."

Two weeks later, he killed the boy from Four and did exactly what he'd said. He won.

Coriolanus Snow

Marshall didn't like President Snow. To his knowledge, no one, not even Julius, did. He was a tyrant, after all, and more than a little insane. But Julius' statement had a point. He provided order in a chaotic world, and for that, Marshall would listen to him. However, it was after Enobaria Chang emerged from the Arena as Marshall's third victor that Snow told him something he would never forget.

"You're a good soldier, Marshall," he said. "I like you. You were one of my favorite tributes that year. Here's the thing, though. There are people in the Districts who think I shouldn't be President. Some of them are even in your own district."

Marshall was confused. Why was Snow telling him this? "I'm very sorry to hear that, sir. Is there anything I can do?"

Snow's face brightened. "Why, yes. There is. I need you to kill one of the major rebels in the district."

"Give me a name."

"Orion Rossi."

For a second, Marshall thought he'd heard Snow wrong. He couldn't be asking Marshall to kill his husband of more that 35 years. That was impossible.

Clearly his disbelief showed on his face, because Snow grinned. "I know it's hard to believe, but Orion is a traitor. However much we love those around us, if they become a danger, they must be removed. Will you do it?"

Marshall took a second before answering. "Can I think about it?"

"Of course. However, I'm afraid you don't have long. I need Orion dead by the end of the month. Is that clear?"

"Yes."

Himself

Marshall came home to Orion a ghost. Everyone saw that something was different, but Orion and Julius were the only ones who asked him about it. Orion he couldn't confide in, of course. It was Julius he ended up telling about Snow's request.

"That's horrible, Marshall," he said. "To kill a tribute in the Arena is one thing, but to kill Orion? You can't."

"You don't want me to?" Marshall asked, surprised. Julius shook his head.

"Never. Snow may be our best chance at survival, but even he needs to be defied every once and a while. You do what you think is right."

Marshall nodded. "Thanks, Julius."

The next month went faster than Marshall expected. Before he knew it, he opened the door to his home in the Victors Village to find a squad of peacekeepers waiting for him.

"What's going on?" Orion asked from behind him. Marshall sighed.

"Could you give us a second?" he asked the peacekeepers, then turned to Orion. "I need to ask you something."

"Anything."

"Are you a rebel?"

Orion didn't answer for a second. "Who told you that?"

"Snow."

"Well, he's very smart. I don't know how he found me out, but it doesn't matter. I suppose he asked you to kill me?"

"He did."

"I'm not surprised. Being murdered by your own husband is definitely his style. Are you going to kill me now?"

Marshall was shocked by the question. "I'm not going to kill you. I would never."

"Thanks. So what do you say we go face the music?"

Whoo! Longest chapter so far!

Orion started out as my least favorite victor of this decade, but once Marshall hit the scene, he leapt forward, and that's nothing compared to how Marshall changed. He may genuinely be my favorite victor of the decade, and for good reason. He's a fantastic friend to Orion, a great mentor to Julius, and while he had only one mention in 40th Hunger Games, he's still amazing.

I also got to use this chapter to explore Julius' character a little. He's a huge loyalist, but he also cares very deeply for his mentor, and when faced with the choice of Marshall or Panem, he chose Marshall.

One side note: Marshall and Orion were both killed by the peacekeepers, just in case that wasn't clear.