A/N: So this was supposed to be out weeks ago and obviously that didn't happen as planned, but I promise I am legitimately trying my best to stay on schedule, y'all. I'm a lil bit mentally ill n shit but I do what I can :) Big shout-out to Phobie and Laney for beta-ing my nonsense; all remaining mistakes are mine though.

Aaron Van de Graaff, 18

March 9th, Year 118 ADD

Inyo Recreational Cortex, District Five

His breaths are coming out in heavy, controlled huffs as he pushes into his fifth set, arms taut with corded muscle as he presses the bar up and through the extension of his elbows, grunting each time he heaves the weight away from his chest. Hot beads of sweat are trickling down the back of his neck but Aaron Van de Graaff isn't exhausted yet; no, he's still grinning.

In fact, Aaron's been grinning since the day he was born. He's always been a big kid- even if he never really worked at it until a couple years ago - and he's always had an even bigger personality. Despite being raised an only child, Aaron was outgoing and surrounded by friends from day one. Even now, sweat-soaked, lying on his back on the ripped-up, stained old workout bench, music pounding in his ears, he's not alone at all; after all, how could he possibly go to the gym without all fourteen of his spotters?

Okay, so he has to admit, with all of their joking, monkeying around, and generally treating the poor old powerlifting gym like a playground, the rest of the Power Chords don't exactly make the best workout partners, but for a bunch of high school choir boys they actually make a pretty great crew.

He was completely bewildered the first time the rest of the group accompanied him here after practice, but by now he's used to his two worlds mixing; it feels nice to have his friends around him when they could be anywhere they wanted right now. Besides, it's not like Karl minds; anything that drums up business or traffic for the gym is good in his books, and a whole troupe of loud, galavanting teenage boys certainly fits the bill.

Speaking of Karl Samson, Aaron can hear his unmistakable shrill whistle echoing across the floor as he finishes out the set. He settles the bar into its rests and sits up with a long sigh and a stretch, rolling out the tension in his shoulders as he reaches over to flick off the radio.

"Aaron, hit the showers; there's some folks I'm wanting to show you off to." With a good-natured eye roll, Aaron's on his feet in a few seconds, chuckling as his buddies run to take turns trying to lift the bar themselves.

He's still toweling off his short spikes of hair as he saunters into Karl's office, not exactly sure who to expect but used to the routine of the dog-and-pony show by now. He's sure it'll be some form of semi-rich (because let's be honest, this is District Five, nobody's actually seen anything even vaguely resembling a "lot of money") booster couple that Karl is trying to persuade into sinking a wad of cash into the gym. As usual, Aaron is going to be the gym's prodigal showboy, the elaborate presentation is going to be spectacularly unimpressive, and Karl is going to be disappointed by the meeting's outcome.

Except, when Aaron looks up, the people standing on the worn, puke-green carpet aren't some middle-aged old money investors; they're the god damn Victors. Both of them. Standing in his gym. Drinking shitty coffee out of paper cups, and looking at him expectantly. Damn.

He's pretty sure his jaw drops; he wouldn't blame it for doing so, under the circumstances. Problem is, said circumstances happen to be people. Who still happen to be staring. Right.

"I- um- wh- hello." he feels a blush rising in his cheeks as he stumbles over his words, the damp towel still dangling from his fingers, one hand raised sheepishly to rub the back of his neck. The woman smiles at him and chuckles warmly.

"Hello to you too. I'm Jules."

"I- I know. I've heard of you." (I've heard of you? Who says that? How creepy can he get?) She laughs again, and this time the boy next to her cracks a smile as well.

"Good to know you've been paying attention to the news, Mr. Van de Graaff. It's nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too." There's an awkward half-moment of silence before Aaron speaks again. "So, uh, why are you- how can I help you?"

"Well, Aaron," Daniel says, speaking up for the first time, "I want District Five to start surviving the Games." Aaron raises an eyebrow, not sure what the connection is.

"We want to start training," Jules breaks in, "not like the Careers, don't worry; we're not raising kids for slaughter. We just want to back the resources that'll give a kid half a chance of living through the bloodbath."

"I don't understand, what's- this isn't- I'm not here to train for the Games."

"I know. And we're not trying to send you. But if you get reaped-" Daniel's haunted eyes bore into his, "and never let yourself assume you won't get reaped- your chances of making it back home are astronomically better for having trained here. We want more kids to have those chances."

"Okay, so… pardon me for asking, but what do you need me for?"

"Your coach says you've got a way with people. We'd like you to start recruiting. And anything you think of that you want put in this gym, any piece of equipment; you just let us know."

A month later he's already feeling more confident around the Victors; he's amassed a small army of kids from year nine and ten that he's been teaching to lift in the newly refurbished cortex (yeah, he actually thinks it deserves to be called a cortex now). He definitely didn't anticipate being the one to coach these kids he's been recruiting, but it just sort of… happened. Turns out all these pre-teens look up to him, so he's been doing his best to help them become well-adjusted… or something. He's absolutely just winging it, but Jules and Daniel seem to approve of how things are going so far, so he doesn't see any reason to stop.

It's a lot of fun to train these kids until he remembers again what he's training them for. He can't help the shiver that runs up his spine every time he thinks about how in just under another month, one of these kids could get reaped. He's trying to prepare them to die, and that's a weight he doesn't know if he can bear, and suddenly he thinks maybe he understands a little bit of how much horror the mentors must feel every year.

He shakes his head to get rid of that thought; he'll turn nineteen before too long, and then he's safe, he'll never have to do that. This right here, teaching scrawny, bright-eyed kids how to get the advantage in a wrestling match, is the closest he'll ever have to get to the Games.

Maddi Merinavas, 14

July 3rd, Year 118 ADD

When she rounds the corner a block away from school, Alligarde is already waiting for her, leaning against the brick wall of the alleyway and tossing a half-eaten apple into the air for himself to catch. As usual, he's looking unkempt; shirt and sweater untucked, the top few buttons open, his tie hanging loosely off his neck. When he sees her, he grins, and she responds in kind.

"Hiya, Mads," the senior drawls, pushing away from the wall with one foot and snatching the bag off her shoulder. She huffs good-naturedly at him, rolling her eyes.

"It's Maddi." She grabs for the bag, but he's tall and quick, and there's no way she's getting it away from him again.

"Nope. I insist; I'm being chivalrous today."

"You? A gentleman? Hardly, Emerson."

He laughs, shoving her lightly in mock offense, and they walk the next block in a companionable silence until Maddi breaks it, as usual, to dive into a flurry of excitable chatter that her friend is more than happy to listen to.

"Okay so guess what. I was hanging around backstage before the Power Chords performed in assembly today and I found this box of these old colored light gels and- hang on, I swear this gets cool- so I popped the lenses out of a pair of old chemistry goggles and replaced them with a blue and a red gel in each eye, and then I took these tiny little infrared LEDs, glued them around the outsides, and hooked them all up to a button-cell battery, just to see what I could make happen. And get this- I turned out the lights in my lab to test them, and I made functioning night vision goggles. Isn't that so cool?!" He's smiling at her, mostly amused at her excitement. She can tell he's impressed, even though he laughs at her when she pants to catch her breath after the excited speech, stumbling over her own feet to keep up with his long strides.

"Yeah, kid, that's pretty cool." He gives her a sincerely respectful nod, and it's not much of a reaction, but she's warmed by it all the same. Alligarde may be strange and quiet and more than a little frustratingly enigmatic, but even if he's never going to show much enthusiasm on her behalf, he's always genuinely happy to listen to her babble on about all of the crazy stuff that bounces around in her head. It's reassuring to her, and when nobody else seems to be all that interested in what she has to say, it's really nice to have a sort-of friend in Alligarde.

In fact, she has to admit that she misses him going to school with her; it was pretty fun to have someone other than herself to talk to while she tinkered in the old physics lab during free periods. Maddi can't exactly remember how he came to spend his time there as well, but he never minded listening to her work and think while he threw in occasional hums of acknowledgement.

She's never actually bothered to ask the Senior exactly what happened to get him kicked out of school. Based on the whispers she's picked up in the hallways, she's not entirely sure she wants to know. She can't really be bothered to care too much about what ridiculous scandal he got himself involved in- he's friendly enough to her, and beyond that, she figures Alligarde's business is his own.

He drops her off at her front door with an over-exaggerated bow and flourish, finally deigning to return Maddi's schoolbag to her as she fits the key that hangs around her neck into the deadbolt latch, turning back to wave as she enters the warm house and toes off her shoes.

"Anybody home?" she calls, breaking into a grin as Khryseis' head pops around the archway that leads into the dining room and kitchen.

"Hey, Maddi girl! How was your day?" her mother chirps, wiping engine grease off of her hands with a soiled towel and gathering her mess of bouncy curls into a quick topknot.

"Great! Want to see what I've been working on?" She fumbles with the zipper of her bag for a second, combing past her books to find the night-vision goggles cocooned in hastily taped bubble wrap. She tosses the little package in an arc to Khryseis' still-smudged, calloused hands just as Anastasia floats down the hall from the other direction, planting a soft kiss on her daughter's forehead and another on her wife's lips.

"Alright, you two," Anastasia chides good-naturedly, "save the gadgets for later! Run and get washed up, I've got chicken defrosting for dinner and those vegetables won't chop themselves!" She ushers her family out of the entryway, wrinkling her nose in mock disgust at the grime generated by her wife and daughter's mechanical habits.

Soft laughter and warm light and the aroma of spices fill up the Gallagher-Clanricarde home and pour out the windows, suffusing the quiet little neighborhood with the family's happiness. Maddi thinks, as she stands safe and snuggled between her mothers, cooking and chatting and dancing through the kitchen, that maybe this is what perfect feels like.

There's a knock at the door.

Later she wonders why she couldn't feel everything shatter with the sound of knuckles on wood paneling. She knows, with a certainty far beyond her fourteen years, that everything did.

All three women freeze when the door swings open to reveal Alscasio Merinavas, trademarked genius billionaire asshole of District Five, loitering on their front porch. Anastasia is the first to regain her wits about her and she steps forward to widen the small gap of doorway Khryseis has created, politely inviting the man in and trying to mask her dumbfoundedness with mixed results. He doesn't sit down in the living room when a seat is offered; instead, he just stands there and stares at Maddi with an expression she can't read.

Slowly, it clicks, and then she wishes it hadn't. It's obvious, really; after all, Merinavas isn't that common of a last name. Maddi's never tried too hard to trace her parentage, but all roads lead back to Alscasio whether she wills them to or not. She thinks maybe she just didn't put it together because subconsciously she didn't want to.

"So you're my…"

"Yes. I'm your father, Maddi. I'm here to take you home."

Maddi stiffens at that, takes a step back, her eyebrows shooting up in confusion and disdain as Khryseis takes a protective step in front of her daughter.

"Excuse me?" She gawks at him, hating the way her voice cracks, "You're not going to be taking me anywhere."

"I'm sorry," he backpedals, "that's not what I meant. I'm not here to- I wouldn't want to presume- I just assumed you'd be happy. You have an entire corporation waiting for you, Madeline, a fortune!"

She scoffs at him, emboldened by the man's audacity."My name is Maddi. Not Madeline, not Madison, Maddi. And I don't want your money; I'm happy here."

"This isn't your real family, though, Maddi." He turns to address Khryseis and Anastasia, "Thank you so much for taking care of her all of these years, but you don't have to anymore; I'll pay you handsomely for the trouble, I assure you."

"They're not babysitters, they're my mothers, and I'm staying with them. What do you want me for anyway? You've already got three children to carry on your legacy." She spits out the last word with a hint of disgust.

"Oh, they'll never do. You see, Maddi, four children and yet you're the only one that's inherited my mind; none of the others are capable, but you? You're such a special little girl. If I had known, I never would have- it wasn't me that didn't want you. You have to understand, my wife said it was the only way to smooth everything over. We had to get rid of the evidence."

"She's a child, not a piece of meat. Dear god." Khryseis finally finds her voice, and the anger in it is palpable; she's not going to let this man near her daughter for anything.

"A child? Oh, no, she's much more than that. She's my heir. Maddi, come home with me, and I'll give you everything you've ever wanted. The best education, the very nicest things that money can buy; you won't want for anything."

"I'm just fine here, thank you."

"That's because this is all that you've seen, my dear. There's a whole world that you're still so naïve to, things I want to show you."

"She said no, Mr. Merinavas. With all due respect," Anastasia has a hard time choking out the word 'respect' towards Alscasio, but she manages, "this is Maddi's decision, and she's given you her answer."

"Of course, I completely understand. It's just- I had hoped you'd have it in you to forgive me for my mistakes, Maddi. The things I've heard about you… I was sure you wouldn't leave me in this predicament, but if this is what you've decided… will you at least walk me out?"

Maddi feels an unwelcome guilt curdle in her stomach; she shouldn't owe him anything, she didn't ask to be born, but still… maybe he's right somehow, maybe she is judging him too harshly. Doesn't she believe that everyone deserves a second chance? Why is he the exception?

She nods her assent and moves numbly towards the man- her father- as he turns toward the entryway. When she opens the door for him, Alscasio leans down, whispers something in her ear that leaves her shaking.

"I had hoped you'd accept my offer, that you'd see sense… I'd hate for anything to happen to this sweet little life of yours when you had a way out all along… I wouldn't want to see my own daughter burn important bridges for the sake of silly things like sentimentality."

It feels like a threat, and as she stands stock still in the doorway, wind whipping through her curls, watching the retreating form of her snake of a father, something like regret curls up inside her chest and pushes at her. She struggles to breathe. She wants so badly to say no to him but all she can get out is a scared, breathy, "Yes."

What none of them know until sometime the next day is that Maddi's answer does not matter.

A/N: Hiiiiiiiiiii so did you like them? I love these two so much so please let me know your thoughts, feelings, and questions! I'll have D6 for you asap, I'm doing my best.

Mae out xx