Epilogue 1:
In Memory of Rodrick Tang, Placed 12th
Coral realized too late that she shouldn't have pushed Rodrick so much. But how was she supposed to have known after spending years denying it to herself? Maybe if she hadn't pushed him so much, he'd still be alive, and not rotting away in jail. Alive and at her side, working to help her keep the small life she's built for them…
But she threw away that future for them a long time ago when she thought her own son would hurt her if she let him get too close to her.
Standing in the funeral home, the only person to show up aside from his failed mentors…Coral feels a pang of regret. Regret for the childhood she stole away from him in her attempt to protect him from ever getting hurt by trusting too much like she did. Was it wrong of her to not want her son to get hurt? She doesn't think so… But standing in front of the closed casket, her son too injured to be put on display, with no one else mourning his death… No, she wasn't wrong. If she had taught him otherwise, he would have been like those other boys in the career alliance, too trusting just to ultimately get betrayed. Rodrick went not from his own stupidity but a cheap trick from the Gamemakers.
"We're sorry for your loss…"
Coral blinks at the voice, so unexpected these days. Barely anyone has talked to her in the last two months, not wanting to associate with the woman whose son committed murder, no matter how much she separated herself. Yet there's no one else that Emilio and Dracana could be talking to besides her.
She clears her throat and looks away from them, back to staring at the closed casket for her son. Her hands clench into fists at her side and she doesn't even know anymore who she's angry with. Rodrick? The Gamemakers? Herself? Maybe it's all of them. "He knew what he was getting himself into when he volunteered," she tells them in a curt voice, the same response she's given anyone that tried to express some false sympathy for her. But did he really know? Who would have thought the Capitol would so vehemently reject him?
"None of them truly know what they're getting into until they're in the arena," Dracana answers her, her voice bitter from years of rejection by District One.
"Well there's no changing the past now," Coral responds, giving the casket one last look before turning and leaving the funeral parlor without another word or backward glance. Nothing she does can change what happened in the arena, make the victor be Rodrick instead of that girl who wanted to kill him at every opportunity.
There's nothing more for her to do now. She must continue on as she has, cold and selfish. If she does that…there will be no one to hurt her further. Besides…she's been the one who caused this pain in the first place
In Memory of Artem Nobyl, Placed 9th
He thought with time there would be less days where life felt pointless, with nothing for him to live for after the Games. But if anything, the emptiness in him just gets worse and worse, time driving and twisting a knife further and further into his chest. Why did the universe do this to him? Why repay his kindness of raising and loving a boy that no one else wanted to adopt by forcing him to die for the Capitol's entertainment?
Boris puts his head in his hands, barely able to hold back his sobs as he sits on the bench, not wanting to draw unnecessary attention to himself. But he just had to get out of that apartment, too haunted by the memories, and away from his husband… He wants to be strong for Oswald so badly, but who is there to be strong for him? There's only so much he can take.
He looks up at the bench shifting under him from the weight of someone joining him. He glares over at the man before gesturing at the rest of the wide, mostly empty park. "Do you mind letting a man have a breakdown in peace?"
"No can do, I've been looking for someone like you," he answers casually, leaning back and putting his arms on the back of the bench. Boris flinches away from him, hastily wiping away any tears on his face, all while the man studies him in uncomfortable silence for a minute. "Don't you just wish sometimes you can do something about all of this?"
"I'm sorry…what?" Boris asks carefully, looking around the park to see if anyone was around listening to them. This man…who nags his brain with a sort of familiarity…if he's saying what Boris is thinking, he's dangerous… But he'd be lying if he hadn't had some of those thoughts.
"You heard me," the man replies, leaning closer to Boris to drop his voice to a whisper. "We could use more people like you. People who have felt the worst pain the Capitol can cause. People who want it to change."
If only he could change what happened…it's too late for his son. But not for the next parents who have to suffer. What is he even doing entertaining thoughts of rebellion?!
"Who are you?" Boris asks, deflecting from the question to give himself more time to think it over. He squints his eyes as he tries to figure out why this man looks familiar, yet draws a blank.
"Someone who knows what you're experiencing," he answers quietly, turning away for a minute to stare out at the trees. When he finally turns back to Boris, his eyes gleam with a faint hint of tears but he forces a smirk at him. "So, do you want in?"
Boris knows he should say no, that it's too risky…but what does he even have to risk? His son was taken already. He'll keep Oswald far away from this. And his own life…he doesn't care anymore about it. "Yes," he whispers, afraid to speak louder.
"Then welcome aboard," he says, grinning as he holds his hand out to Boris to shake. Boris takes it hesitantly at first, but shakes it firmly, slowly starting to feel like he finally has something worth living for again. "We need a name for you. I'm thinking…Hawk."
That gets a snort of laughter out of Boris – probably the first laugh he's had since before the Reaping. "What kind of name is that?"
"A good one!" the man replies, putting a hand on his chest in offense. He shakes his head and mumbles something under his breath about it, making him seem like the least likely person Boris would expect to be part of the rebellion. When he finally meets his gaze again, the offense is gone, replaced by a cool smirk, "Anyways, you can call me…Crow."
In Memory of Grey Pendleton, Placed 8th
Quill is almost certain she would rather be anywhere other than here. She pulls at her mother's hand around her wrist again, even though she knows she's not relenting as she drags Quill behind her. "Mom, please, I don't want to go!"
Juliet snaps around, yanking Quill closer to her and she cries out at the pressure on her wrist. She drops her voice low, glaring down at her daughter. "You will go and you will be respectful to your cousin! After everything he did for you, I can't believe you're acting this way."
"That's precisely why," Quill mutters under her breath as her mother continues dragging her into the funeral home. She holds back a pretend gag at the way his parents are sobbing over his coffin, their twin children looking distraught over the loss of the boy who succeeded in doing to them what he tried to do to her. "Pathetic," she whispers to herself, shaking her head as her mother makes her way to them, all while Quill drags her feet and looks around at the others there. Unsurprisingly, they're the only ones there for him. Not that there's much more there for his District partner, but surprisingly, the victors are there.
"Come on, Quill, pay your respects," her mother gestures for her to step up to the open coffin and she looks everywhere but at him. Yet her mother yanks on her wrist again, forcing her beside him.
She's finally free from him and doesn't want to be reminded of his cruel control – even if she feels guilty at being happy over his death. She just doesn't understand how her mother and his parents can still view him the same after everything he did in the Games. They just justified it with him doing what it took to survive. Quill justified it as him being the same bastard he always was and relished in his treachery getting exposed to the nation.
Slowly, she looks down at him, expecting to feel…something towards seeing his dead body in front of her. But he's just a lifeless thing, unable to hurt her anymore. And she refuses to pretend she's actually upset at his death.
God, she can't take any more of this pitiful sorrow for a man who doesn't deserve it. "I'm going to use the bathroom," Quill says quietly to her mother, getting a small nod of response before she slips away from the adults crying over a bastard.
She quickly walks to the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her and going over to the sink to splash cool water in her face. She can't do this anymore. She has to get away from her family or else they'll keep trying to break her down. She knows she's scrappy enough to care for herself and doesn't care if she's living a tough life. At least she'll be living it on her own.
Quill jumps up on the sink to reach the window above it, cursing at the latch being stuck. Why is the universe trying to keep her trapped with her family?!
"What are you doing?"
Quill whips around at the question, ready to fight whoever is trying to stop her, before drawing up short from two things. First is realizing the question wasn't one of accusation, just curiosity. Second is realizing the person asking it is the victor her age. She crosses her arms defensively, looking towards the door before turning back to Astrid and glaring, "None of your business."
"Looks to me like you're planning an escape," Astrid answers calmly, ignoring her trying to be threatening as she leans against the door. "And from what I've seen of his bitch parents and your bitch mother – no offense," she adds after the fact, only making Quill snort at the truth. "I can't blame you. Also looks to me like you could use a distraction."
"I don't need one," Quill answers quickly before considering it a little bit. It certainly wouldn't hurt and she'd love to see whatever Astrid comes up with. "But if you're willing…"
"I got you," Astrid says with a smirk before gesturing at the window. "Now get moving. And…well, if you need anything, feel free to come see me again."
"I probably won't," Quill answers as she turns back to the window, giving a small cheer of success at getting it open. She turns back to look over her shoulder at Astrid, "But thanks anyways. Now, I have to get to my freedom."
In Memory of Jendaya Barrett, Placed 7th
They had descended on the place like vultures as soon as the cannon fired for her and it broke Rain's heart to see it happen. In all her time of knowing Jenny, she had never seen her step-mother or sister care about her for anything other than her money. And now, they were trying to reap the rewards of her death.
And Rain refused to let them do that. Jenny deserved better than her life getting stolen away by people who never cared for her in the slightest. And so when it was time to decide who inherited the winery since Jenny had never made a will to decide that – and why would she have done so at only 18? – Rain stepped in. It didn't take much to get her husband to talk to his father and make it happen.
She so rarely used her connection to the mayor, but it felt good doing this for Jenny.
And now…she walks the vineyards that belong to her and her husband, a hound running back towards her with a big stick in his mouth. "Good boy!" Rain praises Hunter when he drops the stick in front of her. She tosses it as far as she can again, smiling as she watches him chase after it as she heads back to the house, but soon lets out a heavy sigh at what she has to do today. Today's the day she has to start sorting through Jenny's belongings.
She didn't want to go through them too soon, but seeing the stuff there hurt every time she went to the house. And…Jenny's words in the Games with Iroha had sparked a curiosity in her…a curiosity to know more about what happened to Jenny and Kane. She didn't have any doubt before of Kane's death, having seen the way he drank at parties… But she said she was hurt by a man, just like Iroha. What secrets might she find going through Jenny's personal belongings?
"Okay bud, time to go inside," Rain tells the dog when he drops the stick once more and rubs his head, before pointing at the house. He just stares up at her, not wanting to budge so she sighs and throws the stick for him. "That's the last one," she tells him before going inside, knowing he'll be fine outside on his own.
She makes her way slowly through the house, heading towards one of the few rooms she's never been in. She takes her necklace off as she approaches, key dangling from the chain, as she stares down Jenny's office. With a deep breath, she unlocks the door and heads inside, not sure what she was expecting aside from the ordinary desk covered in paperwork. A safe sits in the corner, combination missing and Rain isn't sure she'll ever figure it out.
She gets to work quietly sorting through the paperwork, so many records of sales and whatnot. But she keeps seeing a date underlined, over and over, and Rain can't figure out why that date is significant. If it was Jenny's wedding date, sure, she could understand that. But this…?
Her eyes slowly move over to the safe as she holds a piece of paper with the date on it, and curiosity drives her to try the date as the combination. And sure enough…her hands shake as the door pops open and she hesitates, not knowing what secrets might be inside.
A hefty wad of cash sits on top. Medical records confirming she had a miscarriage just weeks after Kane's death… And a small vial, unlabeled and empty. Rain's hand clenches around the vial and she uncorks it, sniffing and finding no odor. Undetectable… She slowly starts to put together all the pieces about Jenny…and she shuts the safe, locking it back up and turning her back to it.
She will keep Jenny's secret safe. No one has to know what Jenny did to Kane. After all, if what she said in the Games to Iroha was true…he had it coming. And who is Rain to share secrets about the dead?
And there we have the first of the tribute epilogues! Worked out nicely that they could be split four and four between two epilogues. Originally I was going to have them all together, but by separating it the story can end with 40 total chapters which is much nicer than 39 lol. So yeah, first epilogues! I think this one is a good mix of reactions to the deaths. I always struggle with making the epilogues different from each other. Also if you're reading Renegades, perhaps you caught that connection...
RQ #34: I'll just ask which one was your favorite of these four?
Alrighty, see you on Monday for the rest of the fallen tribute epilogues and then in just one week, the last update for this story! What a very weird thought to be so close to the end of this story. I'll see you then!
