Ricochet

Chapter 7: The Reaping

Author: Carla, aka cali-chan
Rating: Most likely PG-13. Nothing worse than what's in the books.
Genre: Adventure/suspense/drama/romance... again, pretty much what's in the books.
Pairings: Peeta/Katniss, Rory/Prim... and probably others. You'll see soon.
Canon/timeline: Same-context AU- this fic still happens in the same world as THG, but the actual events in the books never happened. I'm adding about five years to the characters from the age they were at the beginning of The Hunger Games. Katniss is 21.
Disclaimer: Yeah, just let me go get my transfer laser and switch bodies with Suzanne Collins. Until I find it in the mess that is my room, anything you can recognize belongs to her.

Note: I've never really tried this before (and I'm sure it will eventually come back and bite me in the behind), but each chapter will be from the PoV of a different character. You should be able to tell whose PoV it is fairly easily, though.

Note 2: Sorry this took longer than usual, you guys! I was sick for most of the week and then conked out on cough syrup for the rest of it, which, as you might imagine, isn't very conducive to writing. But since it's my birthday as of half an hour ago (we don't use DST here), I decided I might as well give you guys a gift. Though I don't know how much of a present it will be, considering Prim is getting reaped...

Summary: "Primrose Everdeen." This can't be happening, Katniss thought. She desperately pushed through the crowd. I volunteer!, she wanted to scream. I volunteer as tribute! But she couldn't, because she wasn't eligible for the reaping anymore. There was nothing she could do.

.


.

Few things in life Katniss could say made her happy. It wasn't a qualifier she used often, or lightly; most of the time even "content" was a stretch in her life. But she knew for certain that seeing her sister happy was at the top of her own "happy" list, and whatever reservations she may have about Prim dating- not Rory in particular, just the dating in general- seeing Prim laugh without a care more than made up for it.

Still, a lifetime of frowning on waste tugged at her. "You should tell them to be more careful," she commented out loud, though a smile was still tugging at the corner of her lips as she looked at the two teens who were working in the back room. "You need that flour."

Peeta, who had been talking to a fellow merchant just outside the bakery, chuckled as he walked in. "What, to make bread? Nah," he replied cheekily, mirth making his blue eyes shine. He walked closer to her, coming up almost shoulder to shoulder as he tried to sneak a peek at the pair as well. Katniss was standing directly in front of the door, so he had to lean over her shoulder a little to see them clearly. "They look like they're having fun," he added.

As if the giggling didn't make that clear enough, Katniss thought as she nodded in reply. Rory had attempted to teach Prim how to mix the dough for Danish pastries, and as far as Katniss could see Prim had caught on pretty quick. But even so they'd both ended up half-covered in flour, which Peeta apparently thought was to be expected. He looked upon the scene warmly.

After a second, he took a few polite steps back. "How long have they been together?" he asked, sounding curious. He leaned against the smaller cake display that was on one side of the counter, most of his attention still on the joyful murmurs coming from the back room. So was hers.

Katniss thought back to the day her sister had come up to her, somewhat shy and blushing, to tell her she and Rory were officially dating. Prim was hardly ever shy or hesitant around Katniss, so seeing her like that immediately caused concern. She'd imagined many things the girl would have to confess to her, from trying on some of her clothes to eating the last piece of jerky they'd saved from dinner the previous night, but for her to blurt out she had a boyfriend was something that had never even crossed Katniss's mind at that point. "About two years, I think," she answered Peeta. Prim must've been around fifteen back then. She was so young. She was still so young.

The Baker nodded, almost distractedly. "They seem to really care for each other," he commented, pensive. There was a pause before he continued. "Must be nice. Having someone care for you that much, that is." Out of the corner of her eye she noticed he was looking at her now. He did that sometimes, and she thought it was strange; when his blue eyes fixed on her, it unnerved her, for some reason.

Having someone care in that way. She wouldn't know; not really. Love made Prim happy and Katniss would give everything she had to make sure her sister could have that. But precisely because of that, she knew romantic love wasn't for everyone. She didn't think about it much. She carried her and her sister's survival on her shoulders and that didn't leave her much time to think about boys and relationships. And she would never get married and have children, anyway; not in a world as horrible as theirs was. She thought of her parents and knew it wasn't worth it. It was pointless, so why waste any time hoping for it? "For however long it makes her happy," she muttered, hoping he'd change the subject.

He seemed to take that as a reply to his comment, and what trace there was of a smile on his face all but disappeared. Whatever he'd read into her words, it sobered him up swiftly. Once again he was silent for a couple seconds, and Katniss hoped that was the end of it, but then it wasn't. "The Reaping's coming up, isn't it?" he asked, sounding glum. "I can't imagine what you must be feeling."

Katniss dodged his gaze. Peeta was always the chattiest out of the people she traded with in town, but she didn't really mind. At first it had annoyed her a bit, but now she was used to it. It didn't feel like he was expecting her to engage in conversation, but he was always affable when she humored his attempts. But she didn't want to think about the Reaping, or breach that topic with someone she barely knew, or with anyone, really. And she was quick to let him know. "I don't want to talk about it," she sentenced.

She was determinately staring at the wall now, so she couldn't really take a guess at his reaction, but soon enough he said: "I understand." She heard him start walking and that's when she turned to look at him again. He had moved behind the counter, and smiled at her once more, the open smile he often gave his customers, as he signaled around. "So. Were you looking for any particular type of bread today?"

Katniss appreciated that he didn't push. But even if they went back to their regular transaction that day, the Reaping wasn't something anyone in Panem could avoid, especially those who were still eligible or had loved ones that were. The day was upon them less than a week later.

There was no work or school on Reaping day, so her and Gale went hunting in the morning. The early start meant they got to their rounds in town sooner than usual, ending with a visit to the Mayor's house. Mayor Undersee's daughter, Madge, who had been Katniss's only friend at school, was there to pay for their usual pouch of fresh strawberries. Thankfully, Gale had enough presence of mind not to be rude to her for once, even though she was carrying the last draft of the Mayor's Reaping speech in her hand. Katniss knew the Reaping made everybody testy, but she'd rather avoid any arguments; that would only make the day even worse.

She was back home by noon. Prim was there, already dressed in their mother's blue dress, which was the fanciest piece of clothing they owned and which Katniss had also worn in her time. It fit Prim much better, as she was taller and more willowy. They had a quick lunch of turnips and leftover wild turkey, and then she helped Prim braid her hair.

They left the house for the town square in silence, coming up to meet the Hawthornes halfway through the Seam. The boys were quiet, almost stoic against the upcoming challenge, while Hazelle reminded them every once in a while that everything would be fine. The only one who seemed frazzled was little Posy, who was not yet eligible for the Reaping but was visibly worried for her siblings. Prim immediately grabbed onto Rory's hand as they came up to the family, in the middle of a crowd of hundreds of people going in the same direction, almost like cows to a slaughterhouse.

The group reached the point where they had to split up, surrounded by the constant murmur of the people around her as the adults wished good luck to their young, wishing it would not eventually become a goodbye. Katniss conveyed the same feeling to both boys, who nodded in acceptance before mother and sister took their attention away. Then she turned to Prim and enveloped her in a hug, which made her feel a little nostalgic since her little sister was now taller than her. "Just one more time after this, and it'll be over."

"I know," she replied, but there was no hiding the fear in her voice. Katniss couldn't blame her; she was terrified herself.

They let go of each other, Rory standing to the side to lead the three toward the area where they would be standing. Before Prim could take a step away, Katniss reached out and lightly tugged at the skirt of her dress, like she used to do when she was younger and her shirts would poke out of the waist of her skirt. "Good luck, little duck," she said, her throat constricting a little.

Prim tried her best to give her a brave smile, and then let herself be pulled by Rory until they were lost in the indistinct mass of Seam teenagers. They'd eventually have to split into boys and girls, as well.

Her and the rest of the Hawthornes went to stand to the side, where everybody who wasn't eligible had to stand. As they waited she looked around, trying to ignore the few, but inevitable, people who were taking bets on the Reaping. Up on the stage at the center of the square were the usual three chairs, all occupied. She was surprised to see their one living District 12 victor, Haymitch Abernathy, had arrived on time for the event. But of course, his head was slumped back over the backrest of his chair and he appeared to be snoring loudly, so maybe being on time wasn't that big of a step up from his usual behavior.

Effie Trinket, the District 12 escort, was sitting primly- some would say rigidly- on the chair next to Haymitch's, and she seemed to be pointedly ignoring the obnoxious sounds coming from the man. She was dressed in a bright, bright orange skirt-suit, wore a white wig that made her seem even paler than usual, and had a matching orange hat that looked more like a fluffy peacock perched on top of her curls. Beside her sat Mayor Undersee, her friend Madge's father. He appeared slightly shaky, somewhat anxious, as he often did on Reaping Day.

As she looked to the right and slightly behind her, she caught sight of Peeta in the crowd. One of his older brothers and his mother stood with him. The woman, as expected, looked none to pleased that she was forced to be there. It was probably painful for her to have to stand up for so long, but Peacekeepers predictably did not consider arthritis a good enough reason to let her stay at home, so tough luck. As if feeling her eyes on him, Peeta caught her gaze and gave her a discreet, but solemn, wave. She nodded in his direction.

At two o'clock, Mayor Undersee finally got up and took the podium. She would never say this to Madge, but she didn't pay much attention to his speech, even if it was different this year. There were certain things he was obligated to say as a Government official, but for the past few weeks Madge had taken to editing his usual speech so that it could show "a little more empathy toward the pain of the families affected by the Reaping." Katniss simply didn't think a speech could do that, no matter what. What could he say? "We are deeply sorry but now we must send your kid off to his or her death. I hope you can understand"? No amount of empathy was going to make it better. Still, Madge's intention was good, so Katniss kept her opinion to herself.

Beside her, Posy was trying to convince Gale to lift her up on his shoulders so she could see better. Being a girl, she hadn't quite inherited the Hawthorne height gene. Gale kept telling her she was too big now for him to carry her that easily. That was an excuse; Katniss knew that meant he wanted his baby sister to avoid watching as much as possible. Even her having to be present was bad enough, he'd rather Posy not see the faces of those kids as they got called to a dark fate. One day she would have to see, but he wanted her to retain at least that small sliver of innocence as long as possible.

Then Effie took the podium, her tone high and bubbly as it always was as she directed the ceremony, and Katniss could almost feel Gale roll his eyes beside her. It was always the same annoying spiel, as if they had something to celebrate on this day. "Happy Hunger Games!" she intoned, chirpy. "And may the odds be ever in your favor!" Then, she clapped her hands once and added: "Ladies first!"

Katniss tensed as Effie moved toward the glass ball that held the names of every eligible girl in the district. Her stomach churned uncomfortably. Six of those small pieces of paper contained her sister's name, and while she knew that wasn't as many as other girls out there might have, that didn't really make it easier. Please don't let it be Prim, she thought desperately, reflexively holding her breath. Please, please don't let it be Prim.

Effie put her hand inside the ball, scrambling the slips around just for added theatrics, before finally pulling out one. She opened it carefully, making sure to smooth it out before she read it.

"Primrose Everdeen."

Initially Katniss thought she had misheard; that she'd been wishing so hard for Prim to not get called that her sister's name was still rebounding in her head. But then the crowd of girls parted and Prim was walking stiffly toward the stage, her face ashen and her hands noticeably shaking, and Katniss felt her feet moving before she even had a recollection of willing them to do so.

Only then did the people in front of them turn to look at her, as if they'd only just recognized who she was. She barely even noticed them, simply pushed them apart so she could hastily pass between them. She thought she heard Gale say her name, try and grab her arm, but she dodged his grasp, frantically trying to move forward.

This can't be happening, she thought. She desperately pushed through the crowd. Six slips. Prim was six slips out of thousands! Just one time after this, she had said. Just this day and then one more, and they'd be free forever. After such a long time of risking her life out there in the forest so that her sister wouldn't have to take tesserae. After so many years of taking tesserae herself. She had had twenty-seven slips at her most, yet she never got picked. And now Prim, her sweet Prim, was.

The people of Twelve understood her grief well enough that after a moment of indistinguishable murmurs, they let her pass. Prim was almost to the stairs, Effie Trinket gesturing for her to climb the stairs quickly and join her at the podium, as Katniss made her way to the front of the crowd. "Prim!" she let out a strangled cry, feeling raw against her throat.

Every single person in the square turned to look at her, but it was only Prim's expression she could see. She was pale, visibly terrified, but not crying. Katniss wanted nothing more than to get to her, grab her and send her away, just send her away where they couldn't hurt her. I volunteer!, she wanted to scream. I volunteer as tribute! But she couldn't, because she wasn't eligible for the Reaping anymore. There was nothing she could do. "Prim! No! Please-"

Two Peacekeepers came up to hold her back, one on each side, yet she continued to struggle. "Let me go! Prim! Let me-" She pushed hard against both men. She didn't know where she was getting strength from, as they were both so much bigger than her, but all she knew was that she had to get to Prim, they couldn't keep her from getting to Prim. She was kicking and screaming and they were having a hard time getting a hold of her arms.

The grip of the one to her right slipped, and her reaction was instinctual: she put all her weight to that side and shoved her shoulder against his torso as heavily as she could. He lost his balance and fell, a cloud of dirt puffing up around him as he hit the ground.

The other Peacekeeper was so stunned he let go of her for one second, and she took her chance: spun on her heel and without pausing to think of where she was actually aiming, threw a punch in the direction of the man's face. Her fist flew straight through the opening in his helmet to hit him smack on the nose with an audible crack- at least, it would've been audible, were it not for the loud gasp that burst from the entire crowd. The Reaping ceremony had stopped completely because of her outburst.

The man stumbled back, his hands going to his now bleeding nose by reflex. It was Mendel, she noted absently. But then four other Peacekeepers were converging on her, and she got ready to strike again. Only this time, one of them raised his arm at her and then all she could feel was blinding pain on the left side of her head.

She must've blacked out for a moment, because next thing she knew, she was on the ground, and someone was grabbing her by the shoulders. Ignoring the throbbing in her head she started struggling again, until a voice in her ear made her stop. "Stop! Katniss, it's me. Peeta! Katniss, stop!" She stilled and looked at him through strands of her own disheveled hair that had fallen in front of her face in her haste.

He was holding her by her wrists, so that she couldn't hit him. His grip was not tight enough to hurt, but strong enough that she couldn't shake him off. He was looking back at her with concern, maybe even some fear, as if he were trying to tell her something with his eyes: Don't do this. Don't make things worse.

"Step aside, Hawthorne."

It was only then that she noticed that behind Peeta, Gale was standing, with his back to them. He was face to face with the four Peacekeepers, and using his height for all the advantage it could give him. Everything about his posture said they'd have to come through him if they wanted to get to Katniss. "Come on, Darius. Easy. We got her," he addressed the one at the front, who wasn't the one who had hit her with the butt of his gun, she could see, as his firearm was still holstered in his belt. It was a tense attempt at being conciliatory on Gale's part.

The Peacekeeper shook his head, almost sadly. Only then did Katniss see the red curls sneaking out from under his helmet and realized it was indeed Darius. "She punched a Peacekeeper. I can't just let her go," he said. He sounded conflicted. She had always thought he wasn't a bad guy, for a Peacekeeper, but she certainly wasn't making his job any easier.

"I said we got her, ok?" came Gale's reply, even more taut than before. He was clenching his fists, as well.

Maybe it was the unvoiced threat of more violence which made Darius think twice about it. He inclined his head to the side to take a look at her, her clothes and hair a complete mess, still half-hysterical in Peeta's arms. And then, with a sigh, he gestured in their direction with a hand, as if telling them to go already.

Peeta wasted no time. "Come on, we have to go," he said, helping her get up on her feet.

"But Prim. I can't-"

"You won't help her by ending up in jail," he reminded her pointedly. "Katniss, we have to go," he repeated, urgent, as he pulled her away from the site of the commotion. Gale did not move one inch until they were a safe distance away; only then did he turn around to follow them out of the Town square.

As they cleared the edge of the crowd she turned to look at the stage, trying to get a glimpse of Prim. She couldn't really see her face from that distance but could imagine her looking sad, scared, maybe even with tears running down her cheeks as she was lightly held back by Mayor Undersee.

The last thing she heard before losing sight of the square was Effie Trinket rushing to continue with the ceremony like nothing out of place had even happened. Only that's when Haymitch rudely grabbed the microphone from her and slurred, for the entirety of Panem to hear: "Look at that one." He let out a bark of laughter. "I like her! Lots of... spunk!"