CHAPTER 3.30
Before they died
They had trees
To hang their hope
Dust coated every visible surface. A high-pitched sneeze disturbed the serenity of the abandoned mansion. Almost two years of neglect and solitude ravaged the house. The ground floor was littered in half-filled boxes and white sheets covered important furniture. After the chaos of the 75th Hunger Games, Mr and Mrs Kentwell had started packing up the house so that nothing could be damaged or destroyed. A job that had been cut short by their unjust deaths.
Hand trailing fondly up the ornate banister, Indiana smiled as millions of memories flooded her mind. Portraits of her family hung from the cream-painted walls, watching as she walked through her childhood home. Her mother and father observed her as she reached her aunt's bedroom. The door sat ajar and the blonde caught a glimpse of silver bedding tucked tightly into the corners of the mattress; just like Cashmere had made each morning. As a child, Indiana had been taught how to pull the sheets so that they were perfectly taut and crease-free. It was a habit the young woman had continued to do even with her thin blanket in the cell of the Capitol. A gap-toothed portrait of Indiana on her first day at the Academy grinned down at Cato as he followed his wife down the hallway. Gloss, newly crowned Victor, smirked at them as they entered Indiana's bedroom.
A fluffy blue rug had been placed at the foot of the large grey bed. Grey sheets lay atop a soft mattress but the pillows littering it were blue. Shelves covered the majority of the walls and had been decorated with books in various conditions. A large desk had been placed under a bright, open window.
"So, blue was your favourite colour before you realised it was the colour of my eyes?" Cato commented, seating himself on the edge of her bed.
Unable to laugh properly, Indiana let out an amused huff. Swiping a finger through the dust that coated her bookshelves, she grimaced at the state her room had become. Everything remained untouched. It had become an exhibit for the life she had had when she was eighteen. The brush used for her hair the morning of the Reaping lay in the same place on her vanity. Nothing had been touched, nothing had been moved. It was as if her aunt and uncle had returned home after the 74th, shut the doors and never entered again.
Turning slightly so that he could get a full view of the room, Cato spotted an envelope resting on the right-side pillow. So the right has always been her side, Cato mused. Reaching over, he plucked the letter off the pillow and was surprised at the weight of it. Crisp handwriting had printed 'from your darling Mother, who loved you far more than you could ever imagine.' Running his finger over the small loops, Cato realised that this was the closest he would ever get to meeting the woman who had brought the love of his life into this world. Tilting his head so that he could glance at his aforementioned loved, he watched as she picked up a photograph and smiled at it.
"Sweetheart?"
"Mm?" Indiana hummed in response, placing the frame back down.
Inside the small box stood Marvel and Indiana, arms around each other's shoulders and grinning at their graduation from the Academy. Holding the envelope up with two fingers, Cato watched a look of recognition sweep over his wife's face. Faltering slightly, the steely resolve she had used so often locked into place as Indiana walked over to Cato. Adaptation, Cato had soon realised, was her greatest skill. Not her ability to wield weapons, albeit that was also impressive.
As she sat down on the bed, she saw that all that remained of the person she had once been was an imprint of her head on the pillow. Taking the envelope, she saw that it shook slightly. She slid a finger under the flap and finally tore it open. Shaky cursive writing greeted her.
'I must admit I'm not good with words so I'm afraid this letter won't be particularly poetic. I know that by the time you read this, simple words written by a mother you've never met will be inadequate. Unfortunately, it is all I am capable od doing. Finding a way to tell the centre of your world goodbye is never easy but it's a task made harder by my inability to communicate. Nothing I could write would ever make up for the fact that your father and I were not around to see you grow. The day before I discovered your presence in my stomach, your father was sent away to the Capitol and whilst we were able to get word to him, he never got the honour of meeting you. I know that the minute he looked in your beautiful blue eyes, nothing would have held any importance to him in this desolate world other than you. I can assure you that he's been looking down on you with proud, and will continue to do so in all your future endeavours.
As I write this, I know Cashmere is holding you close and spoiling you with gifts. Gloss has been forced to mentor me and whilst it's hard to be away, he's holding out hope that we will both return to you. However, we both know that is unlikely. I know my brother and sister-in-law will take good care of you and raise you to be the best person you could be. They will teach you how to defend yourself against any evil, but they will protect you from that evil so that you never have to. All that is getting me through this last week is the knowledge that one day – after you have lived a long live filled with love and laughter – we will be reunited in the afterlife.
Tears roll down my face as I realise I shall never see you transform into a woman, never graduate from the Academy, never meet your friends or your first boyfriend. I will miss your first kiss, and your wedding day. I won't be able to intimidate your fiancé and see if he's good enough for you. However, I know that no man will ever be good enough for you but as long as they make you happy, I have no choice but to tolerate them. Finally, I need you to promise me a few things. Promise me that you will thank your aunt and uncle for the immaculate job they will have done raising you. Promise me that you'll thank your best friend for being by your side and wiping away tears in moments that I am unable to. But, more importantly, promise me that you will live your best life. Don't be afraid to take chances and go after what you want. Don't allow the pain and mistakes of the past prevent you from enjoying the future. Life is short, baby girl, but it is definitely worth living. I'm not ready to die but I can pass on easier knowing that I did the best thing I could do with my life; I made you. I love you more than the stars in the sky, my sweet Indiana x'
A heart-aching laugh escaped from her mouth as she read the contents aloud. All her mother had wanted was for her to have a happy life. Until a certain point, she had. Her childhood had been filled with joy. As predicted, she had been spoiled by both her aunt and her uncle. She had laughed and she had loved but, she had also known unrelenting agony. Ironically, she had been asked to thank her aunt, uncle and best friend and all three of them had probably been thanked by her mother before Indiana had even read the letter. All of them were in the afterlife together, watching as Indiana and Cato attempted to move on with their life.
Photographs fluttered to the floor as Indiana unfolded the sheets of paper. A small envelope had landed on her lap and a tear drop slid down onto the cream card. Glancing down at it through blurred vision, she saw that her tears had smudged the ink of the first few letters but could still make out the words 'Indiana's husband.'
"It's for you," she informed, handing it to Cato.
Eyebrows furrowing, Cato held the small envelope in both hands. Unable to compose herself any longer, she ducked out of the room and into the bathroom so she could splash her face with cold water (and empty the contents of her stomach for the third time that day).
'To the man who made my baby happy,
All I can really say is thank you. Pathetic, I know, but I really mean it. You've clearly brought smiles to her face, made laughs pour out of her mouth, calmed her anger...'
Cato sniggered slightly at that. Indiana's anger couldn't be quelled by anyone but herself, and especially not by Cato. More often than not, they enhanced the other person's rage and backed each other in a fight. Sometimes, Cato was the person that had been the cause of such anger.
'Thank you for being by her side through good times and through bad. I'm sure that if we had met, I would've loved you also, despite pretending otherwise. Anyone that is loved by my little girl must truly be extraordinary. So, mystery man, you take good care of her. Make sure you cherish her, treat her right, and show that you love her each and every day. Please remember that if you hurt her, I'm watching.
P.S. If you have any little girls of your own, don't let her name them after me. She needs to let go.'
Running his thumb over the indents on the page, his lip quivered as he saw stains of phantom tears. Clutching the paper close to his chest, he felt honoured. This woman had no idea who he was and yet she had still written a letter to him. In her final few days, she had taken the time to speak to him. Shuffling back into the bedroom with tissues and water, Indiana curled into her husband's side. One hand rested on his thigh and the other on her barely discernible bump. Resting his head atop hers, Cato intertwined their fingers so that the future parents both had a hand on their baby.
"Did she also tell you that we can't name the baby after her?"
Cato snorted, and two sets of laughter echoed throughout the mansion of ghosts.
Overcast sky hung above Indiana as she wandered through District One. The majority of buildings had fared well during the rebellion but some were nothing but cinders and rubble. Cradling three flowers, the District One native enjoyed the solitary stroll. Familiar scenes surrounded the girl and she smiled at the places she wouldn't see again.
There was the jewellery store that held the title of Cashmere's favourite store. She pulled Indiana into every time they passed. Indiana's first piece of jewellery had been bought in that shop. It had been a small silver ring with a jewel that twisted into a sharp blade. It had been used for the first time to cut the ropes that bound her during the kidnapped simulation at the Academy.
Nearby was Gloss' favourite store. Gleaming weapons hung in the window, and Indiana remembered the first time she had been allowed to go inside. Gloss had allowed her to choose the weapon she felt drawn to it. That day had been the first time she held a bow. And there-.
Indiana stopped.
Prior to the 74th Hunger Games, turning that corner had been the best part of her day. Each morning, she would turn the corner with Marvel by her side and get her first glimpse of the Academy. The tall silver building had gleamed in the sunlight, casting prisms of light onto the concrete below. On days when the sun was too weak to break through the clouds, the building was still breathtaking with its sleek form that turned darker as the sky did. Smoke could often be sighted from the top of the building. The roof had been used to teach fire safety, how to start fires, which objects burnt best, and even how to use flame-throwers. Faux lava simulations were sometimes set up after a volcanic environment had been used from the Games one year.
However, as Indiana turned the corner that morning, her gloomy mood only worsened. The bodies of her beloved family were being returned to the ground on the day that she discovered that the building she loved had been razed to the ground.
Small puffs of smoke rose from piles of rubble and as she moved closer, glass crunched under Indiana's shoes. A horrified noise burst from her mouth as Indiana spotted a few skulls. Some looked far too small. Prickles ran down her spine as she felt somebody's eyes on her. Indiana spun around, flowers raised.
"Easy, killer. I know you're ferocious but I don't think you can decapitate me with some – uh, tiger lilies."
"Finn? You're alive!" Indiana greeted. Finn chuckled.
"I could say the same thing to you. I'm pretty sure you've been declared dead two/three times and imprisoned once." Finn watched Indiana wince before grimacing at his own stupidity. "Shit, I'm sorry. That was insensitive. Um, moving on. Congratulations on your wedding."
"It's okay. I'm used to it. You've got to make jokes about it or else I'll cry." Indiana joked. "Although all the hormones from this baby make me cry over everything."
Side by side, the two former classmates looked at their beloved building forlornly. So many years, so many students, and so many victors. That building had done so much for the citizens of District One and it had been the one major building that hadn't survived the rebellion.
"That stupid school survived but the Academy didn't." Finn muttered, kicking a small rock into the rubble. "Indie, I know you've heard this loads but I'm so sorry for everything that's happened to you. The Kentwell's told us that they took Jamie, and then they were taken. Your aunt and uncle caused so many people here to start rebelling against the Capitol. And – and – and Marvel. Fuck, I'm so sorry about Marvel. It should've been me and it wasn't, and I'm sorry-."
"Finn, Marvel didn't volunteer to save you-."
"No, I know that. He did it for you. That man would've done anything for you and it got him killed."
"Excuse me?!"
"Shit, no. I didn't mean it like that. It's just, he broke the rules, you know. He did that because he knew he wasn't coming back to District One. He never intended to make it out of that arena, he just wanted to protect you."
A shaky breath left Indiana as tears pinpricked her eyes. All she had done for the past few days was cry. Blaming the baby was the easiest route but packing up a lifetime of memories was emotionally draining.
"I know he didn't do it for me but at the end of the day, marvel saved my life. I got to be around to see my kid being born, and now I get to raise my baby girl in a world that's not plagued by the Hunger Games. Either way, I never got to thank him but he'll have my eternal gratitude."
"Five o'clock."
"What?"
"I know you hated each other and he's probably begging me not to do this but five o'clock is when we're burying him. Today. You can thank him then if you want to." Indiana turned to walk away, eager to get the flower back so that she could pop them in some water before they wilted.
"I never hated him, or you for that matter." Finn called after her retreating form. "I hated that you didn't let me in. I wasn't deemed good enough to be part of the impenetrable friendship you two had, despite being the same level as Marvel. But the Cato came along and it was easy to spit that your bond exceeded being allies. I realised that maybe I just didn't try hard enough to get along with you. As I'm sure you've noticed, I'm not the best in social situations."
"You didn't try at all." Indiana remarked, remembering all the fights and arguments the pair had had over the years. The number was doubled for Finn and Marvel. No niceties had ever been exchanged. "But, uh, neither did we. We kinda wrapped ourselves up in this little bubble and ignored everyone else. Cato was the first and only person to ever get in the middle of us so I'm sorry."
"Wow, a sincere conversation and an apology off you. Must be my lucky day."
Shaking her head, Indiana reminded Finn to be there at five before turning her back on the desecrated building that technically, now the Games had been eradicated, would've had no purpose.
Three mounds of unearthed soil lay watching as Indiana bent down so as to place a flower on each of the pristine white coffins laying in the deep graves. Drizzles of rain turned the grass damp and those dressed in black watched as droplets raced down the sides of the coffins.
A few feet in front of the newly carved headstones lay the graves of Indiana's mother and father. Together in death but forever apart from their daughter. To the right of their son lay the bodies of Marvel's parents. So many families had already gathered in the cemetery to say a final goodbye to those they had lost, and the Hadley's had already passed three before they got to the plot of land that belonged to the Summers.
A soft kiss was pressed to Indiana's cheek as Finn turned away from Marvel's grave, having made his peace. Respectfully, he was leaving Indiana alone so that she could grieve her family for the last time. A comforting presence protected Indiana as her husband stood closely behind her.
"It's not too late to take them out and bring them with us. We can bury them near our new home so you can visit as much as you'd like." Cato suggested, pressing a kiss to her bare shoulder blade.
Rain soaked her skin but she had foregone a raincoat. Tradition demanded that the family and loved ones of the deceased were to present themselves to the elements. Earth would be fulfilled when Indiana threw a handful of dirt on each coffin. Lighting a candle in their honour during the evening's meal and allowing it to burn until it died out would fulfil fire. The weather had been kind enough to fulfil the final demand, rain.
"No. They're where they belong. Taking them away from the family purely for my own needs would be selfish."
Nodding, Cato whispered a final goodbye to the deceased trio before going to stand with Finn. Both men had said all they needed to so they waited far away enough that they wouldn't overhear what Indiana wished to say to her loved ones. After she was done, they would return so that they could all drop a handful of soil on their coffins, finalising the ceremony.
Left alone, Indiana took a step back so that she could look at all three of them.
"You know, if you do this, we'll go away." Marvel said, solemnly.
"You won't see us again." Cashmere added.
"It's time, baby girl." Gloss said reassuringly, a contrast to her aunt and best friend. "You're ready."
Stood behind the glistening white tombstones, the three of them smiled at the distraught blonde. Tears ran down her face but they made no move to comfort her. They couldn't. They weren't real; simply figments of her imagination. Conjured in times of need but never a physical reality.
Cradling the life in her stomach, Indiana closed her eyes and sighed. Sinking her hand into the pile of dirt that had been created from the newly dig graves, she nodded to herself as she stood before Marvel's grave.
"I love you," she said to each of them before dropping the earth and soiling the pristine coffins. One by one. "Goodbye," she whispered before turning around.
Without looking back, Indiana marched away from them and out of the cemetery. Waiting until she had gone from view, the dead trio faded away into nothing.
At every occasion
I'll be ready
For the funeral
THE END
A/N: I'll admit that's not where I planned to end it but this is a very long book and it seemed like a nice place to stop. However, I can write the other chapters as bonus ones at some point (if anyone is interested in that).
