A/N: Trigger warning for this chapter.
Epilogue 1:
In Memory of Eliot Eidner, District Nine, 22nd Place
No one ever talks about the tribute who dies first in the Hunger Games. All the tributes that die in the bloodbath are forgotten about, killed in a few minutes to set off the rest of the Games. But for Jan Eidner, she cannot forget about her only son. Her little boy, her baby. And it's because she can't just forget about him like the rest of the country has that she's able to pull herself up out of bed still, even on the days when she wishes she could just melt away and never go back to reality. Because he wouldn't want to see her this way. Even when he lost his grandfather last year, he tried to stay positive. But Jan isn't Eliot and she can't keep up the same positivity he would in this situation.
Jan has tried her hardest to follow the advice she always gave Eliot in the days following his death, yet it was impossible for her to do so. She's tried her best to be brave, but she can't. She's tried to keep being a hard worker and not quit working, but she's found herself taking more and more time off to grieve in the days following his death. Not even Dennis has been able to pull her out of her darkest time as he's taken his death just as hard as she has, if not worst since he lost his father just last year.
She tries to take solace in the knowledge that he died quickly, not drawn out and painful like some of the others in the arena. She tries to remind herself that Eliot died having friends that were going to have his back in the arena. She tries to remind herself that Eliot stayed positive up until the end. But it only soothes the pain so much.
She didn't just lose her son. She lost her ray of sunshine.
In Memory of Jessamine Briggs, District Eleven, 21st Place
For the second year in a row, Pinova returned home to District Eleven feeling like a failure. Neither of the tributes made it back home alive like she did…just like last year. No matter how hard they tried, how much Pinova tried to get the sponsors to support them with Ain, it was never enough. Jessamine should have had an advantage in the Quell, yet it was a matter of wrong place and time. And Arthur…the Gamemakers were to blame for his death.
But similarly to last year, Pinova wanted to make sure she did something to keep the memory alive for the tributes they lost. She didn't know yet what to do with Arthur aside from donations to his rescue team – which feels a little bit lame, even if she's certain they wouldn't complain about it – and it was harder for her to decide what to do for Jessamine's honor. At least until Ain made the suggestion and then she wondered how she hadn't seen it before. It's a decision she wished she had done earlier in her life, but she couldn't afford to make these decisions before her Games.
Part of her resents that she had to go through the Games to have these opportunities, but another part wants to make the most of it now.
And so Pinova called up the university as soon as she was back in Eleven and informed them that she wanted to learn sign language. They called someone who called someone they knew until eventually she was in communication with the Capitol and all it took was Pinova threatening to remove her support for them to send a teacher out to Eleven. Not that she would actually do that, but Pinova has started to learn the power she has as a victor and she is willing to exert it sometimes for good reasons.
And she thinks learning sign language is a good reason – and not just her, the class is open to everyone.
It's a slow learning process, yet Pinova is trying. And she will keep trying and trying until she can do it without telling someone something completely different than what she intended. It might be too late for her to learn to help communicate with Jessamine, but if anyone like her goes into the Games again…she will be prepared. She will be ready to help them and communicate with them, not expect them to adapt to the hearing world.
And maybe someday soon, she'll succeed in bringing home a victor to Eleven so she doesn't have to suffer through the pain of trying to live up to their memories while knowing she failed them…
In Memory of Calvin Tailor, District Three, 19th Place
It just wasn't fair.
Why did Amelia get to live when Cal didn't? Why did the other one in the same exact situation as Cal – in the summer university program in Three and away from home – get to live while Cal has been forgotten? No one was talking about him anymore, not after the news that Amelia was still alive. Their precious Amelia, the story of survival and loss.
Cal went through loss too. He lost his brother to the Games, just like Amelia did with her brother. But they didn't talk about that, no, Cal's story wasn't as exciting and fresh in their minds.
But Indy remembers. He cares that his brother died in the arena before getting the chance to fight and survive. He cares that he lost the last family member that cared about him, all without getting a proper goodbye. Cal had promised him he would return and keep him safe. He was always trying to be strong for the both of them. But he wasn't strong enough. It wasn't enough.
Why couldn't the changes have been made one year earlier? Why couldn't his brother have been spared? Indy doesn't know, but he resents the Capitol for it. He resents that they gave Cal this great opportunity and then let him get taken away from it and his brother.
Indy glances up and down the alleyway, making sure no one is around, before taking out the can of spray paint and shaking it a few times before getting to work, constantly glancing back down the alley to make sure he won't be spotted. Part of him wants to be found and punished for it, publicized for it. Maybe then they would listen to him when he tells them all it's not fair that he had to lose both of his big brothers to the Hunger Games. The first death broke his parents.
The second death broke Indy.
The words are soon painted on the side of the building and Indy takes a step back to admire his work before tossing the can aside. He walks out of the alleyway without looking to see if there's anyone around, desperate for someone to recognize the hurt he's going through, desperate for at least one person to stop and ask him if he's okay. But no one does. No one cares about Calvin Tailor's family. And that's why Indy painted the words on the side of the building and he'll keep doing it.
Fuck the Capitol.
In Memory of Eva Orville-Wright, District Five, 18th Place
Agnes wasn't sure why they were invited to the District Five University today, other than knowing that it was to acknowledge Eva in some way. A part of her was glad to know that they would give some sort of recognition to her sister considering the way she was forgotten by the rest of the District in favor of her District partner. All because he was young and sweet and had Letha's support. Yeah, Agnes knows that Eva wasn't the politest and could get on someone's nerves if she didn't like them. She was still Agnes sister and best friend and losing her destroyed her.
But Eva didn't deserve this kind of humiliation and slap in the face by the university.
Eva was so proud to have been accepted into the engineering program and worked so damn hard to earn her spot. She had spent months of her life building a portfolio of work, losing sleep perfecting it. She hadn't cared that she didn't have the support of their parents in pursuing this degree and stubbornly forged her own path. But to have the university give them a lame ass plaque that would be placed at the end of a dusty hallway in the engineering building…
Eva must be rolling in her grave and cussing out the school she put her heart into being part of.
'In honor of Eva Orville-Wright, accepted student to the District Five University Aerospace Engineering program and tribute in the Sixth Quarter Quell.'
"What a joke," Agnes mutters as she shakes her head at the plaque. No one even stayed around after the small ceremony to talk to them, not even her own parents.
It's obvious to Agnes that they don't give a damn about the lives lost along the way. Not unless you're sweet or charming or the lucky one that makes it out alive. But Eva was none of those things so all she'll be remembered by is a cheesy plaque.
But Agnes won't ever forget her sister and she knows that's all Eva would want. She wouldn't give a damn about these people that didn't know her pretending to be upset.
In Memory of Atropa Seigal, District Eight, 17th Place
Clark was doing his best not to let bitter rage fill him since returning home from the Capitol at how unfair all of this is for District Eight, for their tributes. He's been trying to focus on the fact that next year, the tributes of theirs that go into the arena will go in by choice, not forced like he was, that the change will be good for the country after all the loss… But when he stepped into the viewing room with Astrid by his side, protective hand on his shoulder… He couldn't stop the bitterness from boiling over. Not when the bodies of both of their tributes are sitting there when five other Districts only have one family to console.
"Deep breaths, Clark. Only one family to face," Astrid whispers to him, rubbing his back a little as he takes a shaky breath, barely holding back tears as some of Atropa's family glances over at them. That alone is enough to make his tears pour over – the fact that there's only one family here and Fete has no one to be mourning him, no family to miss him…
"It's not fair," Clark responds as Astrid gently pushes him forward into the room, and he shakes his head, refusing to look over at the bodies, refusing to see the cold skin powdered to have some resemblance of life in their cheeks. It was too hard last year for Viradie's funeral…he doesn't know if he can do it for the two tributes they let down.
Atropa's mother and one of her sister's stands near her body, silently staring at their fallen daughter and sister, while the other sister overs near Fete's body, looking unsure about approaching her sister's former friend. But Atropa's father approaches Clark and Astrid as the door opens and a man enters, looking hesitant before going to pay respects to Fete. "Hi…uh, I'm Domett, Atropa's father and…"
"I'm so sorry we couldn't save her," Clark blurts out when her father pauses, immense guilt coursing through him. He lets out a sob as Astrid puts her arm around him and pulls him close, while Atropa's father watches them. "We couldn't save either of them…"
"But you helped her, right?" Domett asks, his eyes starting to shine with tears he successfully holds back. "Both of them?"
Clark nods his head, unable to form any words and Astrid responds to him, "We did everything we could."
Domett lets out a heavy sigh at this and nods his head, turning his eyes to the floor, "Thank you…"
No matter Domett thanking them…Clark knows it's not okay. It won't ever be okay for him that they couldn't bring home either one of them…
How can he keep doing this year after year?
In Memory of Courtney Cassini, District Six, 16th Place
Turbo Cassini enters his house with a sigh, kicking off his shoes and knowing the space is too empty, too quiet, and has been for too many weeks now. Yet he knows he has to learn to adapt to this. Nothing he can possibly do will bring back his daughter…
He starts skimming through the pile of mail as he walks down the hallway to his office, knowing half of it is junk, and half of it are bills to pay. But one of them makes him come to a stop, his eyes watering as he stares down at the envelope not addressed to him, but to Courtney.
Turbo quickly drops the rest of the envelopes on his desk and holds onto the one for Courtney, staring at it for a long moment as a wave of grief washes over him. He had thought he was doing well to move on after her death, learning how to live once more without his daughter…but this one envelope has sent him back.
He slowly flips it over, stopping to run a finger over the wax seal for the District Six University, before gently opening it and pulling out a letter that just feels expensive.
'Dear family of Courtney Cassini,
We express our deep condolences for your loss during this time. Courtney was a great representative of the brilliant youth in District Six and her loss has been felt. We would like to honor her memory by posthumously accepting her into the Aerospace Engineering program at the District Six University.'
Turbo has to set the letter down and pause reading it. He slowly sits down at his desk, staring at the piece of paper there, knowing that the information on it was what Courtney wanted more than anything. So many nights of staying up late working on projects, or asking him dozens of questions about his own work, all towards that letter. Yet receiving the letter now…it's all wrong. She was supposed to be here to celebrate with him.
"You did it, baby girl," Turbo whispers as he blinks back tears, the pain of his loss fresh once more. Here he was thinking he was learning to lock down the pain during the day, focus on work and living life day by day - after all, that was always what Courtney was trying to do. But that pain hasn't gone anywhere, it was just temporarily locked down and this letter has unlocked it. "You got in. I'm so proud of you…"
If only she was here to see it so he could hug her.
In Memory of Genesis Barrett, District Ten, 15th Place
On the Barrett family farmstead, the preventative measures have been kicked into overdrive and a constant panic fills the large family, ever since Genesis was picked for the Hunger Games. Lowell Barrett was always a suspicious man of the Capitol, but at the loss of his eldest daughter from one of his bloodlines and then the rebels attacking the Capitol…all of his fears have been reaffirmed.
He stands at the door to the main house with his first wife Sylvia, overseeing his family outside. Sylvia occasionally directs some of the children to do certain things if she sees them being too idle, knowing they cannot be too prepared. His eldest children work harder than they ever have, building a tall wooden fence around the perimeter of their farmstead while some of the teens build trenches to place sharpened logs. He can only hope the fence will be high enough to keep out any mutts attacking from the ground. But from the air…Lowell eyes the gun propped at the door, knowing they can take out any mutts from the air. The rest of the children and his wives have been pushed to expand their vast farm space, increasing their yield. He even sent one of his wives into town to purchase more animals for breeding, determined to be completely self-sufficient on his farmstead. They have to be, there's no other alternative.
It's clear as day that Panem as they know it is about to end and a Third Rebellion will spark, destroying most of the country. But not Lowell's family. His bloodline is the chosen one that is going to survive when the Capitol and rebels launch mutts and biological warfare at each other. They will be the ones to survive,
The Capitol may have tried to destroy his family and his lineage by taking away Genesis from him, but that is the only one of his family they will be able to touch. He will make sure the Capitol can never lay a hand on them, can never make his family feel that loss again.
"Push them harder," Lowell tells Sylvia, who obediently barks out his order to his family as he turns to go back into the house, too afraid to stay out there where the Capitol might be able to see him from the sky. He won't take the risk of them sending in one of those bird mutts that killed the rebel leader to attack him. He won't let them touch any of them.
They won't take any more of his children.
In Memory of Holly Alder, District Seven, 14th Place
By time Gaia Alder realized what was going on, it was too late for her to get ahold of the rebels to try and help her baby girl. She had assumed the worst had happened to Holly when she was sent into the city to retrieve the plans to deliver them but never returned. Gaia mourned her then, blaming herself for letting Holly go on that mission alone.
There was no reason for her to look closely at Carameuse at the Reaping with the big hat covering her face. There was no way she would have recognized her daughter under the heavy makeup for the chariots or the interviews – even if she recognized the rebel phrase she slipped in. After all, the Holly she knew was blonde, not the brunette she dyed herself before sending Holly out on the mission.
It was only once in the arena, away from the fancy outfits and makeup, that Gaia finally recognized her daughter. But it was too late for her to get word to the higher ups. She's not a Martinez or Christian, she doesn't have direct access to Vera Snow. So how could she have told them?
But a nagging part of her wonders if the rebels knew. How could they not have known with the information they had access to about the tributes? The Capitol clearly knew, otherwise they wouldn't have forced her into such a brutal death… Gaia doesn't know what to think anymore, forced to cease her missions for the time being to avoid notice and take attention away from the rebels. Did the rebels know and choose not to save Holly? Do the people fighting for their cause mean so little to them?
Her whole world has been turned upside down and Gaia simply doesn't know what to believe. She wants to believe the rebels didn't know. But when the Capitol made the announcement about how the rebels achieved what they did through hacking the Games Headquarters…she can't deny it anymore. To think she lost her daughter and then lose her once more after just finding her again…? No mother should have to go through that.
And so Gaia marches up to the Justice Building, head low as the weight of what she has caused pushes down on her shoulders, ready to turn herself in and face whatever punishment they have for her. She deserves it after letting her daughter die for a cause that wouldn't protect her.
In Memory of Arthur Bramble, District Eleven, 13th Place
For the second time in his life, Gregor Snipes has been put in charge of the rescue team the Bramble family has run. And for the second time…he's wishing it didn't happen. Why would he ever want to take over like this when it meant the loss of first Arthur's father, and now Arthur? Why did the Bramble family deserve to keep feeling these losses?
It seems quite cruel of fate to have taken away two people who have dedicated their lives to helping others. And in an even crueler twist of fate, Arthur's shop – Gregor will never view it as his – is now busier than ever, forcing Gregor to work more and keep constantly being reminded of the loss of someone who was basically his son. With Arthur in the Games and discussing the shop, and then everything that has happened with the rebels…well, people have been panicking a little and those who have the funds have been coming in and buying plenty of survival gear for the future.
But there was one who has surprised Gregor the most in all of this uncertainty, one that brought pain to his heart from how much it reminds him of what happened years ago with Arthur.
Arbor looked up to Arthur for guidance, was taken under his wing and had been in training to someday go on rescues with Arthur. Gregor expected him to not want anything to do with the shop after Arthur's death, given he is just a boy. Surely he would need time to mourn someone he looked up to and then he'd probably realize he wasn't cut out for this life and Gregor would need to find someone else to someday take over for him, because he doesn't know how much longer he can do this and keep feeling these losses. But he didn't. Arbor came up to him after the funeral, insisting through his tears that he wanted to keep learning so he could make Arthur proud.
Just like Arthur did…
But Arbor has even bigger dreams than Arthur did, still having some of that innocence of a child, albeit tainted by the loss he felt. He doesn't want to just run the shop or go on rescues. No, after seeing everything that has happened with the rebels, Arbor now has dreams of helping the country at large by becoming a Peacekeeper. Gregor wants to fight that, knowing how dangerous that would be for Arbor, but who is he to tell him no? He didn't tell Arthur no and stop him from his dream. But he sure does hope that by the time Arbor is old enough to apply to be a Peacekeeper, this rebel threat will be gone and he will just do normal things to help people around the country.
No matter what, Gregor will make sure he's ready. Maybe this will be the legacy he can give the Bramble family. He can make sure that their family name lives on, make sure that people are still doing some good in the world and helping others…
It's what Arthur would have wanted.
In Memory of Sky Odum, District Nine, 12th Place
Sky had no family left to mourn her death, no friends to care about her being gone. The only person who had cared about her was gone, taken by the Games the year before… If there's any solace for Fonio in knowing he failed her, it's the knowledge that the girl who was so clearly hurting and broken from the loss of her friend is with him now.
But Sky left a big empty hole in him despite her stubbornly fighting him at every turn, an emptiness that has taken him a long time to figure out just what it is he's feeling… It's been years since he last mentored, enough time to have made him forget what it was like to lose a tribute so he assumed it was just that. But man, he felt like more of a jackass than he normally does when he realized the true feeling. Leave it to the angry thirteen year old to make Fonio do some deep thinking about his past and try to make some amends. Because he realized from Sky that he does not want to be living in regret over not saying or doing something like she was in the past year…thankfully she found some bit of reconciliation before her death.
It took a lot to first get through the network of victors – go figure, most of the victors didn't want to talk to Fonio – but he finally convinced Dampero that he wasn't trying to be an asshole. Even then, he left it up to her to give him a call.
Fonio thought she wouldn't talk to him and really, he can't blame her. So when his phone rang one day with a District Eight area code, he was surprised for a couple reasons. "Didn't think you would actually call."
"Yeah, I considered not calling for a while," Mari sasses him, getting quiet right away and not saying anything else for a minute. When Fonio stays quiet too, unsure what to even say about her, she lets out an impatient, "Well?"
"I'm sorry for being an ass," Fonio tells her, met with only silence on the other end of the phone. Fonio just keeps going, needing to fill in the silence, "Mentoring Sky…that angry girl made a mark on me. Made me realize the faults of the District Nine orphanages and…I guess it just made me think about how you were a fortunate one and you could have ended up like Sky. I know it's too late to change what happened with you, but I wanted to tell you that I'm trying to make it up to other kids. I gave a donation to some of the orphanages, hoping it can make a difference for them. So…I'm sorry."
"They only let me get adopted by Capitolites because you were the asshole that got my mom pregnant," Mari tells him before falling quiet for several minutes, leaving Fonio to question if she hung up on him without him realizing, before she finally speaks up, her voice wavering, "I don't regret being adopted by my parents and I love them more than anything. But I just wish it hadn't cost my mother's life. You could have helped her."
"I know," Fonio winces at this statement and he's about to speak up to try and defend his past stupid self.
"But," Mari says, stopping Fonio in his tracks. "I…I don't forgive you for not helping her. But…I respect what you've done."
"I didn't expect you to forgive me," Fonio tells her honestly. "I just…you know, you get old and that's when you realize that you regret not having people around that actually care about you. And I have myself to blame for this. Sky made me realize this, I guess she just reminded me of what I gave up years ago. But I knew I would regret it if I didn't reach out to you now to try and mend things. So if you're willing…I'm willing to try to have some kind of relationship with you."
Mari remains quiet for a bit, mulling over her thoughts and he can hear Astrid whispering in the background before Mari lets out a sigh and finally gives him an answer, "We can try…"
In Memory of Bellona Silvanus, District Two, 11th Place
A somber air fills District Two as a large group gathers next to the lake behind the training center for the funeral for their tribute. All of the victors have gathered with Bell's family and friends to send her off in a way that only District Two could come up with.
But the person taking the day the hardest is the person who has the biggest role to play in the funeral. Odyssey waits to the side as Kat gives a speech about Bell and the sacrifice she made, doing his best to keep his head up as tears silently fall down his cheeks. Misha stands by his side, keeping a hand on his back and rubbing it soothingly, knowing what Odyssey must do. It's the task that Misha has had to do for the last two years, but thankfully not this year.
Kat finishes up her speech, stepping aside so the gathered crowd can see Bell's body as a shroud of the District Two seal is pulled over her where she rests on a steel boat, atop a pile of kindling. Bell's parents and two older brothers step forward to push the boat into the water, while her other three siblings stand together, the oldest crying as she has her hands on the shoulders of the younger twins that glare over at Odyssey through their tears. The boat gently slips into the water and slowly begins floating into the still lake as Bell's family steps back, her father giving a long look to Odyssey and looking as if he wants to say something to him, before silently stepping back into his place with the rest of his family.
Kat approaches Odyssey, waiting to hand him a golden bow, which he stares at with pained eyes for a moment. "You can pass on this if you're not ready."
Odyssey shakes his head, knowing he has to do this. He takes the bow in his left hand as he meets Kat's gaze, blinking a few times to hold back his tears. "I have to try, for her."
Kat nods her head, not questioning his decision, as Darach steps forward with a small bowl of fire and an arrow, which he lights before helping Odyssey notch the arrow. He gives Odyssey an encouraging pat on the shoulder before stepping back, letting Odyssey step forward with the flaming arrow.
Odyssey takes a few seconds to take deep breaths, knowing he has to try to do this. As the youngest victor, it's his responsibility to do this each year until someone else wins. But even more, after being the cause of Bell's death… Odyssey takes a deep breath as he puts his new prosthetic hand on the string, nowhere remotely close to knowing how to use it for the most basic tasks, let alone something requiring precision like archery. "I'm sorry, Bell," Odyssey whispers before trying to draw back the string, his arm shaking from the exertion and the fingers nearly slip off the string of the bow, before Misha steps up behind Odyssey and places his hand over him, helping guide back the string.
"I got you," Misha whispers, encouraging Odyssey to not quit trying to fire the bow, and he does his best to aim, hating that he can't even do this one thing that he was the top of his year at just two weeks ago. He can't even do it for his friend.
With Misha's help, he slowly gets the bow raised and the string drawn back, and takes a moment to look at the boat with Bell on it, a fresh tear falling down his cheek before Odyssey pushes back on Misha's fingers, letting go of the string. "Goodbye, Bell," Odyssey whispers as the arrow strikes the pile of kindling she lays on, quickly igniting a blazing fire that consumes his shrouded friend.
Misha hugs Odyssey from behind as they stand there, watching the fire burn up his friend, as guilt washes over Odyssey knowing that he is the reason this is happening to her. Guilt that he is the reason a family is mourning near him. Guilt that he is too afraid to face them, to tell them how much he is mourning her death too…
And guilt that he can't seem to put things behind and try to start living.
"I…I need to try to start using this hand," Odyssey whispers to Misha, knowing he's been stubbornly refusing to start using it yet. But this…it was a rude awakening for him, the realization that he couldn't even give his friend a proper funeral on his own. "It's what Bell would have wanted."
In Memory of Major Emerson-Ness, District One, 10th Place
Anastacia enters the funeral home – at least as far as she knows, but she doesn't think Thetis would lead her astray – a smug smile on her face knowing Major was put exactly in his place, got exactly what he deserved. "Describe to me what's happening."
Thetis hesitates for a few seconds and Anastacia furrows her eyebrows when she realizes she doesn't hear anything. She rubs at her newly healed ear, making sure it's clear but…there's no one, not even breathing from anyone else. "No one is here…"
"Where's his family?" Anastacia asks, turning her head around to hear as Thetis leads her further into the room, surely over to where his casket rests. Thetis pulls her to a gentle stop, guiding her hand out in front of her until she feels the smooth surface of the closed casket. "Couldn't clean up that smug face, huh?"
Anastacia leans closer to the casket, still wishing she could see the look on his face when he realized she knew exactly what kind of bastard he was, or his face when they poured that metal over him and ended his cruel existence. "Have fun in hell, bastard."
Someone enters the room, clearing their throat as they approach. Anastacia turns her head to hear better as she balls her hand into a fist on top of Major's casket. "I talked to Major's parents," the person says and it takes a couple seconds for Anastacia to pinpoint the person as Emilio. He stops near them and she tilts her head, trying to pick up his tone. "They…said they were too ashamed to see him like this. But I know Joy and Golden. I think they're too ashamed their son lost and got caught in his scheming."
"He was their son though," Anastacia says, hating that she can feel a bit of pity in her stomach for Major, of all people. "He was trying so hard to win for their legacy."
"And he didn't succeed," Emilio points out to her and Anastacia shakes her head in disgust. How could they not even show up to their son's funeral when he died trying to win the Games for them?
"No one even showed up to see him," Anastacia says quietly, realizing the three of them are the only ones that cared enough to show up to Major's funeral, and Anastacia did it out of spite. She leans against the casket, getting a noise of protest from Thetis, but she doesn't care as she crosses her arms, trying to figure out what the hell she's feeling right now. "That's fucking bullshit. Can I go over to their house and tell them off?"
"It won't make a difference," Emilio tells her, only making Anastacia scowl more. She just…doesn't know what to think right now about Major. He caused her so much pain, so much suffering…yet his parents don't even love him enough to see him at his funeral?
"Fuck," Anastacia mutters as she pushes herself off the casket – thankfully not sending it to the floor – and paces away from the two victors. She shakes her head as they start following her, holding up her hand to stop them. "What do you know about Major's parents and how they raised him?"
"His parents tried to volunteer the same year as me and they were quite ruthless in trying to be chosen. Major…mentioned that his parents taught him everything about his strategy," Emilio says slowly, making Anastacia curse under her breath. How did she not see before that Major was the type of person she has been trying to get the means to protect? She was blinded by her loss and need for vengeance for Pad to see what was really happening to him. But was what he did to Pad guided by his parents? There's been parents before that have pushed their kids to plenty of awful things before the Games…
Ah shit, Anastacia can't believe she's starting to feel bad for Major, of all people.
In Memory of Fete Bayard, District Eight, 9th Place
Before the funeral ended for Fete and Atropa, Astrid found herself talking with the only person to come to pay respects for Fete. Florian Conroy was the closest thing Fete had to a parent figure left in his life and turns out, he's the man Fete has left everything to in the event of his death in the Games. Astrid was unsure what to expect from him, a little distrustful at first at the nagging of Clark to watch out for Fete's cats and business, but Florian has shown her that he means well.
Florian is all set to take over Fete's business, having enough designs scattered around Fete's workshop to keep them afloat until he can either find his footing or find someone to be his partner. But probably most importantly to Fete…he was willing to take on Fete's six cats as his own, despite having a slight allergy to them.
But upon hearing that, Clark gave Astrid his 'pity me' eyes and that damn kid is a manipulative teen that knows exactly how to get things out of her. She's so proud of him. But that is how she has wound up sitting at home on the floor of her living room, surrounded by cats, with one sitting on her lap and demanding her attention by screaming in her face. All while Clark sits on the couch, petting one of the sweet quiet girls, smug little look on his face. But Astrid can't even be mad at him for it, not when this is the first time she's seen him looking anything other than upset and angry in days.
"I think you'll be a great cat mom, Astrid," Clark tells her as he scratches behind Finch's ears and the cat's purring increases in volume. "You already have the personality of a cat."
"Oh shut it," Astrid tells him, shaking her head and fighting off a smile as she looks at him. He focuses on petting the cat for a bit and Astrid studies him, knowing he's trying to keep his feelings to himself right now. "How are you hanging in there?"
Clark lets out a heavy sigh and doesn't look up at her for a long time, just focusing on petting Finch, but Astrid can see tears falling down into his lap. "This sucks," Clark finally says quietly, still not looking at her. "I thought losing my friends in the arena would be the worst pain I ever felt but…"
"But losing tributes is even worse," Astrid finishes for him and Clark finally looks up at her, nodding his head as tears fall down his cheeks. Astrid sighs and pats the spot on the ground next to her and Clark quietly moves over, holding the cat close to him for comfort. Astrid puts her arm around him and holds him close, letting him quietly cry against her, finally letting it out instead of trying to pretend he was fine. "I know, it hurts."
"Does it ever get easier?" Clark asks her through some sobs, making Astrid start frowning because she knows she can't lie to him, yet she wants to. She wants to protect him from ever feeling pain like he felt when they lost Fete, despite trying their hardest to help him out. Pierre the cat headbutts her chins and Astrid gently pushes him down by petting his head as Clark lets out a heavy sigh. "It doesn't, I can see it on your face."
"Next year will be different," Astrid tries to reassure him, but both of them know there is no guarantee with this. Even if their tributes are volunteers…they're still going to get attached to them. They're still going to hurt just as much as Fete's death did, and as much as Clark's would have hurt Astrid if she hadn't gotten him out of that arena.
As they sit there surrounded by the cats of their tribute, now her permanent reminder of their failure…Astrid can only hope that next year won't hurt them as much.
In Memory of Davy Emmerich, District Five, 6th Place
"Are you sure you want to do this, honey?"
Leandro nods his head as he stands in front of Davy's house, his mother trying to soothe him as she rubs his back. He's desperately trying to hold back his tears, knowing one little thing will set it off…but he knows he needs to do this for Davy. He needs to tell Davy's family the truth and he won't just let Letha do it like Davy asked her to. He will be the one to tell them…
Tell them all about the boy Leandro lost…
"I need to," Leandro whispers, blinking a few times to hold back the tears. "It's taken long enough to be able to be here…"
It just wasn't fair. Why wasn't Davy one of the few that gets to survive? Davy deserved to live just as much – if not more – than the survivors… And how come his older brother gets to be happy with a person he just met before the Games while Leandro has to suffer this heartbreak every single day? How come Argos gets to be happy? Why can't Leandro have that happiness too?!
"I'll be right with you," Letha reassures Leandro who can only nods his head, afraid that if he tries to speak, all that will come out will be a sob. Letha reaches over and presses the doorbell and Leandro tenses up, knowing there's no going back now.
His mother had at least called ahead and told Mrs. Emmerich that they wanted to speak with her today, but not about what, so when she opens the door and finds Leandro there with Letha, her surprise is understandable. "Hello Letha," Mrs. Emmerich says softly, her eyes heavy with bags from sleepless nights and eyes red from recently shed tears, which just makes it even harder for Leandro to hold back his own. She looks over at him, trying to give him a smile, thinking that he was just a friend of Davy… "Hi Leandro, I wasn't expecting you. Please, come inside."
Mrs. Emmerich leads them into their house, thankfully not to the living room where they sat for the interviews they gave for Davy, so shortly before… Leandro shakes his head, trying to keep those thoughts down. He has to so he can be brave for Davy, brave for the boy he gave his heart to who never stopped trying in that arena to get back home to him. "Would you like anything to drink?" Mrs. Emmerich asks as the enter the dining room and Leandro just shakes his head as he sits down.
"No thank you," Letha answers kindly as she sits next to Leandro, taking his hand for support as Mrs. Emmerich sits across from them. Leandro looks around the room, his stupid brain imagining scenarios where he would come over to have dinner with Davy and his family, and he can no longer hold back his tears. Letha gives his hand a squeeze as Mrs. Emmerich looks at him with concern. "We wanted to tell you about something that Davy confided in me in the Capitol. He…he wanted me to tell you if…"
Mrs. Emmerich nods her head in understanding as Letha can't finish the statement and Leandro tries to hold back a sob. "We are truly grateful for everything you did for him… I am glad he trusted you."
Letha looks over at Leandro, giving him the chance to tell Davy's mom the truth, knowing he wants to be the one. It should be him, he was the one that wanted to be with Davy… "He…" Leandro starts, trying to find the words to say and struggling through his tears. "We- he… Davy was gay," he finally blurts out, knowing he can't say more than that. He can't say that he wanted to date him and now feels like he is never going to find someone as special as Davy again.
Mrs. Emmerich stares back in surprise at this and Letha takes over, giving a better explanation than Leandro is capable of right now. "Davy told me that he wanted you to know but he was scared to say. Him and Leandro…"
"Oh," Mrs. Emmerich says softly, looking over at Leandro with new understanding. She puts her hand on her chest as her eyes start shining with tears. "I thought you were just his friend… Why didn't he tell me? I…I wish I would have known…"
"Well now you know," Letha says gently with a smile, even though Leandro can see she's struggling to hold it all together right now. "He…really wanted you to know and we had to tell you, for his sake…"
Mrs. Emmerich nods her head as she reaches up to dab at her eyes. "I'm sad he didn't think he could tell me this…but thank you. I'm glad I know now, I just…wish he could have been here to tell me himself…"
Letha reaches over and rubs Leandro's back as he lets out a sob at this, wishing more than anything there was something he could do to change the past. "Every day I wish he was still here."
In Memory of Delta Zale, District Four, 3rd Place
Coral couldn't take any more of this. Everything that has happened to her family…she knows it's her fault. She was the one that let information slip, rebel information, things that were confided in her husband and he told her, trusting her not to say anything… But she did – completely on accident – yet he paid the price for her slip up. Sent on a dangerous mission that all but guaranteed his death… And then they had the nerve to send an apology letter for it like it wasn't their fault. It was, but Coral knows it was also her fault in the first place.
But she hadn't lost just her husband that day… That was also the day she lost her daughter, long before she truly lost Delta. Delta was never the same after she lost her father, the parent she actually loved, unlike Coral. That was the day Delta swore to get revenge on the rebels and wouldn't focus on anything other than volunteering for the Hunger Games. And now…now her daughter was killed in the Games and her killer lives, and the rebels have gotten away with taking away all her senses for the finale. Coral knows it's because they were afraid that Delta would win… Delta died without knowing how much Coral still loved her daughter, even after she had pushed her away and never forgave her for causing her father's death. Delta died scared and unaware of what was happening to her, all in the name of revenge on the very people who caused her death.
Who is there for her to keep living for anymore? No one…she's lost the only two people she has cared about.
Coral doesn't even know what side is worse at this point… The rebels took away her husband, yet the Capitol didn't protect Delta in the Games after they personally chose her to represent District Four this year. Why couldn't they have waited a year for her to volunteer when she was eighteen? Then there wouldn't have been that awful Quell twist and the rebels wouldn't have had the means to incapacitate her and guarantee her death.
Both sides are terrible, hiding behind their grand missions of saving the country while having their nasty secrets that they don't want their followers to see. But Coral sees it with both of them. Both sides are flawed and both have taken away all Coral cares about, left her an empty shell with nothing to live for.
Coral stares at the bottle of pills in front of her, knowing it could end things so quickly. Yet she doesn't reach for them, a part of her wanting to show the country what the Capitol and rebels have done to her with her death… Because she knows she can't keep living in this world. She only held on after her husband's death, knowing Delta needed her, as much as she protested her.
Coral sighs heavily as she puts the pills back in the cabinet and shuts it with a shaky hand, feebly trying to hold back a sob of pain. No matter how much she wants to just be with her husband and daughter again…she can't do it. She can't just end the never ending pain that haunts her every moment.
"Why did they do this to me?"
In Memory of Demarcus Pollock, District Four, 2nd Place
Marshall's feet are heavy as he slowly heads up the driveway to their small house, dread filling him with each step. He's just so damn tired of being the only one left to take care of everyone. And bitter…bitter that he can't just be a normal teen and has to be the only sane one in the family and make sure that they have money to put food on the table. He can't possibly expect his parents to keep a consistent job, not anymore after the loss of their first born, their baby.
If only they realized that by isolating themselves in the house, they're pushing away the five children they have left.
He hates Demarcus for what he did to him, hates him going off on some noble plan to get help for their family by winning the Games. Well guess what, Demarcus failed at that. And not just any kind of failure… Second place. It's been so absolutely miserable being the brother of the tribute that came in second. Everyone always seems to walk on eggshells around him, afraid to say anything and make him fall apart. If only they knew that happened long before Demarcus ever volunteered. He fell apart and put himself back together when he was forced to get a job to keep food on the table for his family while Demarcus was off chasing his foolish death wish.
Thanks Demarcus. Still ruining his life from the grave.
Marshall lets out a loud sigh as he stops on the porch, trying to steel himself for dealing with the shit show that is his house, already hearing the screaming coming from his younger siblings. God, he can't wait for the day he can get the fuck out of this hell and never look back. Maybe actually live a normal life, attend university… Marshall scoffs to himself at this as he bends down to pick up the mail. Slim chance of that ever happening.
Marshall flips through the mail, scowling at the bills there, knowing he will have to pay them. But he freezes at one letter in paper way more expensive than the rest of the mail there, addressed to the family of Demarcus Pollock. And sitting in the corner, the Capitol seal taunts Marshall, reminding him of his brother leaving him behind to put together the pieces of their family. He considers tossing the letter aside and ignoring whatever false pity the Capitol has to offer them for their loss, but curiosity gets the better of him and he finds himself reading over the letter quickly.
Marshall's eyes widen as he skims the words there and looks in the envelope, finding a rather large amount of money in there. Penance for Demarcus, the letter said, to reflect the changes that are being made moving forward in the country. Marshall slowly counts the money, having never seen this much before in his life, not with the measly pay he gets that's barely enough to support them all. This kind of money…this could help him get the fuck out of this nightmare and finally live a life where he isn't overshadowed by Demarcus, even after his brother is gone.
He knows what Demarcus would have done with this money. He hadn't shut up about his noble plan to help them, airing out their dirty secrets to the world. This kind of money…it could help some of them get treatment. But Marshall quietly pockets the money and letter before heading into the house, knowing that he won't be sharing that money with his family. He's going to use that money to get out of here someday. He doesn't care what Demarcus would have done – he's gone while Marshall is still here.
After all, Marshall deserves to be selfish after everything he's given up for this family.
There we have our epilogues for the fallen! As you can tell, I decided to just put them all together instead of splitting it up into two chapters. I realized it wouldn't be unreasonably long and I'm also impatient to start posting Renegades! Subs are open for that and I'll be posting the first prologue now in two weeks on May 15th!
It felt right to give each of the tributes a final section dedicated to them. It really was a great cast I've had in this story (I'll save next chapter for when I really get sappy lol). And you might be wondering if I forgot Adam - I didn't. I decided his section should be in the epilogue with the survivors given his death was different than the ones in the Games. So there will be a section in the next one dedicated to him. Some of these things are scenes I have had planned for a long time (of course D2 has a viking funeral for their tributes lol). So which of them was your favorite? And if you had a tribute here, what are your thoughts on how their family/friends are doing without them?
Alrighty, I will see you one last time next Friday for the final update of this story (oh man I'm gonna be so sappy, get ready lol)!