Title: Toll
Author: ice shredder
Fandom: Hunger Games trilogy
Disclaimer: Katniss and her friends are not mine, just borrowing for fun.
Spoilers/Warnings: post Mockingjay epilogue. Possible triggers. Mentions of blood, depression/suicidal thoughts, and PTSD.
Summary: I never asked to become the Mockingjay. Then again, I never expected Peeta to get hijacked or watch Prim become a human torch.
Every night I see them. Dozens of rebel parachutes floating from the grey sky like dirty snowflakes, landing with delicate grace among the pen of wounded, frightened Capitol children and the rebel medics trying to work their healing touch. Then the second wave dropped I realized too late what they were.
Bombs.
I see Prim seconds before the fire devours her alive. Devours me. What little sanity I had left snaps like a taut bowstring. I go mad. Peeta saves me from killing myself after I kill Coin. And...Peeta...dear Peeta, the boy who played with fire...the only one who can keep me alive, who can hold the pieces of my shattered psyche together with the sheer force of his steadying presence, received the worst of the scorching. But he doesn't hate me like he should. Instead he showers me with kindness and love. Two things I don't deserve.
The first thing he does when Dr. Aurelius releases him from his care was plant primroses around my house in my sister's memory. That's when the first ray of hope since Prim's brutal death brings a much-needed warmth to thaw the deep freeze built up on my soul.
But the images of blood, fire and death continue to haunt my dreams. Sometimes...I wish I could take my hunting knife across the fragile skin of my wrist. Let all the pain and the guilt and the gnawing emptiness out though a steady stream of blood. Anything to terminate my mind and the dark thoughts swirling like that black wave that consumed several Capitol blocks. Internally I am screaming...screaming so loud and more often they claw their way out of my throat leaving it raw and sore.
I revisit that horrible moment again and again. Seconds before the bombs go off, I scream her name much like I did when I volunteered to take her place at the Reaping. I run for her, desperate. Save Prim, the only thought in my mind. She needed to get out. She wasn't supposed to be there! But I was too late.
I watch helplessly as the explosions rip through skin and bone. The last sight I take with me before darkness claimed my vision was the sight of my sweet, little duck being roasted alive.
I never asked to become the Mockingjay. The only reason I did was to protect Prim and keep Peeta alive. But then again, I never expected to become a tribute in the Hunger Games. Or become the face of a revolution that in the end, I'm not sure the human race deserved. Or for Peeta to get captured in the Quell and hijacked so Snow could use him as a living weapon to kill me.
When the ashes thrown on top of me by the dead grow too heavy or memories of the arena overwhelm me I scream myself awake. Almost immediately I feel Peeta take me into the strong protective circle of his arms, and I sob into his chest, hands clutching at every piece of him I could reach. Inhaling his comforting scent of cinnamon and dill. Somehow, between this and his gentle shushing and his lips ghosting over my clammy skin calms me like nothing else. And no one else but the boy with the bread has the ability to keep me grounded.
As long as Peeta's alive I'll continue to keep on living. To be alive in the world, for Prim's sake. For Peeta. For everyone who gave their lives. I know that's what she would've wanted. And yes, even for Haymitch. Cause God knows he's the only closest thing to family we've got since Mom left to start a hospital up in District 4. Without Prim and Dad, she's checked out again. But this time around I don't have the energy to care.
As days pass and Peeta and I grow back together, I decide to turn my family's book into a memorial for the lost. It takes a time to compile but we're in no hurry. Everything needs to be perfect. Eventually Haymitch joins in with over two decades worth of kids he was forced to mentor and we find a strange sense of solace and closure when the book is finished.
Even after I finally give in to Peeta's coaxing-I would've done it eventually, words are his greatest strength after all-and bring my two beautiful children into the world, we never fully leave the Games and the Great War behind. We freed Panem from the Capitol's iron fist, but the toll was astronomical. I tell this to Haymitch-who became my kids' surrogate uncle-and he shrugs. Says freedom doesn't come cheap and war could care less who it devours.
Snow was right. It's the things we love the most that destroy you.
-end
Enjoy and don't forget to review! Love ya guys. :) Can't wait for Part 2 to come out...but at the same time I'm dreading Prim's death scene. It's one thing to read it but quite another to see it come to life on screen. War sucks. :'(