Title: Awake and Sing
Author: A Crazy Elephant
Summary: Or "Let the 10th Annual Hunger Games Begin!"
Category: Action/Adventure/Drama
Chapter Word Count: 3,718
Disclaimer: The Hunger Games universe and related characters do not belong to me.
Author's Notes: Just in time for the Catching Fire release, welcome back! I am sorry for the epic break – three deaths in the family, plus a last minute grad school acceptance haven't made this year particularly conducive to writing.
A big thanks to all of you for sticking around this long and of course for your comments and support of this piece! I love hearing what you have to say!
15 – Recap
The second interview dress is stunning.
I've come to expect nothing less from Saoirse. Minerva mentioned once that Saoirse pours all her emotions into her designs. Grief with a touch of rebellion into her pre-Game looks, for example.
This dress is nothing but joy.
She's keeping with the selkie theme, but I have a feeling that's just for the sake of continuity. She's far too happy to produce something so tragic now that the Games are properly over. This gown isn't quite as overt as the other dresses had been, like she's stopped caring entirely about defiance. The silver is so soft it's nearly white. The skirt falls only to my knees instead of the floor, like the interview dress did. It's floating and airy – not unearthly tragic like the Opening Ceremonies, but light like a weight has been lifted. Chiffon, Saoirse calls it. I am given matching shoes nearly as towering as Saoirse's own. No jewelry and only enough makeup to be seen. My hair is back in the expertly styled nest from the before the Games. It has apparently become quite the rage with all sorts of fashionable people here in the Capitol and I am expected to sport it.
I don't even care.
I care about Saoirse, of course. She was the first person from outside District 4 to acknowledge how grave the Games were before I went in, to worry openly about me. She was the first person to hug me and properly cry for happiness that I wasn't dead afterward. But even after the blur of doctors and nurses, fussing preps and ecstatic Saoirses of the last few days, it all still feels like a dream. The nightmares filled with floods and croc-mutts and faces in the sky I have whenever I close my eyes feel more real than any of my waking moments. It's just easier to let them dress me up and drag me around.
Tonight is no different.
The audience is all ready seated when Cobb, Saoirse, and Minerva bring me to the Interview Studio. I am not seated in the audience like we were for the Tribute Interviews. Instead, Minerva ushers us through a smaller door, just outside the studio. A backstage door, into the wings of the stage, full of lighting and television equipment and draperies. Minerva positions me by a set of stairs, leading up to the dais where the Interviews take place.
Julius is all ready onstage.
He's talking to Thom.
Julius is still in a very yellow suit and his bald head has been polished. Thom is looking so handsome and put together I can scarcely believe he's been sedated for most of this week. They're chuckling and chatting casually like they've been up there for a while. The audience laughs and applauds with them.
"He's warming them up." Cobb explains. With Thom sequestered and heavily medicated, Cobb's taken it upon himself to be something of a surrogate mentor. I get the distinct impression it has a whole lot to do with Zeke being my friend and very little to do with me being myself. He's gruff and grumbly like that night of the parade, but I can't help but be grateful. He isn't from 4, but he knows what the Arenas are like. He understands that being a Victor doesn't mean you've won something.
It helps.
"Let's bring her out, shall we?" Julius announces. "Ladies and gentlemen, the Victor of the 10th Annual Hunger Games, Miss Margaret Benoit!"
The roar from the crowd is deafening.
"Follow Thom's lead." Cobb tells me as Saoirse gives my skirt a final fluff. "Go give that boy a hug. Tears are good too." Cobb pats my shoulder encouragingly before giving me a light shove in the direction of the stairs. I stumble up them, tripping in the heels Saoirse has me in.
No one seems to care.
Thom meets me half way to the couch. He pulls me into his arms and buries his face in my hair while the crowd comes apart.
"Play along, Mags." He hisses into my ear. He does not sound like he's been medicated lately. He sounds like his usual scowling self. It makes me feel like nothing has changed, even though nothing will ever be the same. "Tear up, if you can manage it." He doesn't have to tell me so. I'm so relieved to see him, someone from home, being just as he was in the part of my life that has distinctly become "Before". I can feel the tears prick in my eyes. I go kind of limp and snuffle into the crook of his neck, clutching pitifully at his shoulders and his suit jacket. The crowd just loves it. "Good girl."
Thom presses a kiss to my temple as Julius quiets the audience. Thom releases me, keeping a hold on my hands and stepping back to look at me. I wipe at the tear tracks on my cheeks and feel silly and small. Thom's got something between relief and adoration on his face that the crowds love.
Julius beams fondly at us both and waves us onto the couch while the crowds settles down. Thom sits first. He pulls me down besides him so that we aren't exactly cuddled up, but certainly a lot closer than we would sit normally. I can't help but notice that Thom does not let go of my hand.
I have never really appreciated it until this moment, but Thom is a master at playing to the cameras.
Walks the walk and talks the talk, was what Shep had called it. Thom knows exactly when to smile. When to laugh. How to gaze longingly at me. The right things to tell Julius. It's all so effortless.
Especially when compared to me.
I'm still wiping at the tear tracks on my cheeks. I'm not entirely sure if I'm looking overcome or just simpering. I certainly don't trust my voice.
"Maggie!" Julius beams. He isn't using my given name like he did at the first interview. I briefly wonder if it's because he's been told to do so or if it's because that's all Zeke, Badge and Rose called me in the Arena. "It's so good to have you back!"
"T-T-Thank you, Julius." I say. Thom squeezes my hand at the stammer and I cough once to cover it. Julius ignores it and smiles pleasantly.
"Tell us Maggie, did you ever imagine yourself sitting back here as a Victor?" Julius asks kindly.
"N-N-Never." I admit.
"Never?" Julius asks coyly. "Not once?" I shake my head.
"I-I was too busy." I explain. The crowd chuckles. "I-I-I promised too many people I'd do my best to make it back – my brothers and my friends." I explain. "Thom." I add, bashfully. A glance offstage at Cobb and Saoirse says this is the right answer. Saoirse is grinning and shoots me a pair of thumbs up. Cobb smirks approvingly, like it's about damn time someone started listening to him. Julius grins too.
"Thom?" Julius echoes slyly. He wants to hear the love story, I can tell.
"T-Thom always does everything he can for our Tributes –" I explain earnestly. "I-I-I promised him on the train, I'd try just as hard to come back." I explain. I wonder where this coy, talkative creature with my voice has come from.
"Mags keeps her promises." Thom adds, tucking a stray curl behind my ear. "Always has." Julius smiles fondly. The crowd sighs longingly, like this is what they've been waiting for.
"I just . . . Couldn't let him down." I make sure to say 'him' instead of 'them'. Offstage, Saoirse beams and Cobb nods. I'm not doing too terribly. At least, I haven't yet completely shamed myself in front of the nation.
"Well," Julius grins. "I say you certainly didn't!" The audience roars in agreement. Julius quiets them, with a sly grin. "Did she, Mr. Argon?" Thom smiles fondly, his eyes never leaving my face.
"No, she didn't." He says, almost dreamily. Thom's masterful acting boosts my confidence, if only enough to manage a longing look in his direction. The crowd titters. They're eating up the love story and I'm a little impressed they're buying it.
"Oh, Thom." I add for good measure. It's ridiculous how breathy my voice sounds, but Thom grins a dopey sort of grin. In the wings, Saoirse and Cobb look pleased too. The audience, of course, loves it. Julius does too and he smiles again.
"And what are you going to do now that your girl's come back to you safe and sound?" Julius asks Thom. I'm grateful this question goes to Thom. Julius wants to hear happily-ever-after. He wants to hear Victor-Babies. Thom's acting can cover this. I'm not so sure about my own.
"Well, Julius," Thom laughs and looks a bit bashful. His ears even go a bit pink. "I suppose that's up to Mags." Thom looks hopefully at me. I try not to look too shocked. I try to gather my wits and come up with something coy. Something hopeful, with the happily-ever-after Julius wants.
"W-Well," I smile. I know I'm blushing too. "I suppose we'll have to make sure my brothers don't come after you first." The audience laughs. Thom smiles something that's almost his usual smirk. Julius doesn't notice and neither does the crowd.
"I'm sure they can forgive him." Julius grins, encouragingly.
"I certainly hope so." My voice doesn't even waver. I manage another meaningful look at Thom that I hope looks affectionate. Thom squeezes my hand.
"I'm quite certain they will." Julius is beaming, but I get the impression someone in the broadcasting booth is hurrying him along. He keeps smiling, but he changes direction a little less smoothly than I've come to expect. "Now, we'll have to say goodbye to Mr. Argon for the time being." Julius announces and the audience begins to protest. "Because it's time for this year's official Arena Recap!" This cheers up the crowd. There's more cheering and applause. "Thank you, Thom!"
"Of course, Julius!" Thom squeezes my hand one last time, before he stands. Julius stands too. They grin at each other and shake hands.
Thom turns back to me as Julius takes his seat again. He's looking all stars and hearts and babies, like Rose had said. He offers me his hands and I take them. Instead of pulling me up, Tom leans down. He kisses my cheek. "You can do this, Mags. Don't let them see you crack." He whispers, just so I can hear. "Good luck, sweetheart." He says, loud enough now for the microphones to pick up. His starry eyes are back on and the audience loves it. I try to look starry eyed too as he kisses my hands and hurries offstage, waving at the audience and the cameras.
"What a lucky girl you are, Miss Maggie!" Julius grins.
"Thank you, Julius." I smile pleasantly too. At least, I hope it looks pleasant. I'm can be certain, because I'm shaking again. The Recap. This is the part of the evening I've been dreading the most. I do not want to see this. The Arena. It doesn't help that with Thom gone, so went most of my confidence.
"Shall we see how talented she is too?" Julius asks the room at large. The crowd roars its approval. The screen behind Julius's head, which had been screening cuts between our faces, switches over to the Games' anthem and the seal of Panem.
This is it.
The Capitol editors begin at the beginning. Dramatic aerial footage of us rising on the start disks. An epic musical score. Cuts specifically to my face and a handful to Zeke's, Badge's, Rose's, and the Careers' faces too. My allies and my enemies. I'm shocked at how difficult it is to see their faces, alive and determined on screen. Then there's the explosion and Girl 9 is gone. Dropped her token and I can't tell if it was an accident or not.
"What were you thinking, there on the disk?" Julius asks, interested. I'm still staring at the footage. At the living faces of my dead friends.
"T-That I couldn't think about it – about being afraid, I mean." I admit, only when I'm sure I won't sob pitifully when I open my mouth. "So I thought about that red pack." I answer truthfully. "And getting as far away from there as I could."
"And did you ever!" Julius chuckles as the gong sounds and the on-screen me fights Boy 5 for the red pack before running flat out for the tree line. The editors have inserted footage of the rest of the bloodbath around the edges so the viewing audience doesn't miss a single moment of the carnage while my onscreen self zigzags through the ruins and the undergrowth. "Now, I'll remind our viewers – you've not seen some of this footage, have you Maggie?"
"N-No." I agree. This isn't as terrible. Well, it is horrible – my dead friends onscreen, fighting for their lives. But I can almost pretend I'm not watching my own Arena. That this is someone else's Games. Of course, the cuts back to my face, terrified and pale as I run out into the ruined city shatter that illusion, but it's easier to manage.
Who ever has edited the footage has made sure to splice the exploits of the Careers in between shots my survival skills. All things considered, for most of the Games, I was a boring Tribute. I wove baskets. I fished. I followed Zeke's orders. I was unconscious. But the Capitol editors have done an excellent job of making the whole recap far more interesting than much of the Games actually were. Lots of Doil moments, to make him particularly villainous. Snippets of the other Tributes' failed survival attempts to make my successes particularly impressive.
Julius peppers me with questions the whole time. Mostly things like, 'What did you think of your Cornucopia haul?' and 'Where did you learn to weave like that?'. Practical things. Painless things. I answer them dutifully and my voice doesn't waver. 'That it was just enough.' and 'My grandmother.' He nearly bubbles over when we get to Day Two and my first encounter with Zeke.
This part is nearly unbearable. Seeing them alive, Zeke, Badge, and Rose. Seeing them laughing and joking. I can feel the tears prick. My throat seizes as the on-screen Zeke tries to talk me away from the water. I try to follow Thom's instructions, to not crack.
"How did you know?" Julius asks enthusiastically when Zeke tosses me the slingshot. He's keeping positive for the audience and a little, I think, for me. "How could you know it was safe to join them?" It takes me a moment to clear my throat and Julius is patient. Overall, I've not embarrassed myself too terribly. The last thing I need is to choke now.
"He offered me a weapon." I explain. "A weapon he knew I could use and use well. He'd seen me in Training – it wasn't a secret I could do some damage with it. That's trust." I continue. "He was trusting me not to kill him, so I could trust him not to kill me, at least for a while."
"And the others?" Julius asks. "How could you be sure?" He's honestly interested and a little bit impressed. It's not even the malicious sort of interest in the President's or the Gamemakers' voices when they talk about the Games. It's the earnest sort, like Minerva Holmes's honest belief in the mission of the Games. In a horrible sort of way, it's comforting.
Like Julius is on my side too. Even if it's for the wrong reasons.
"I-I couldn't." I agree. "Zeke gave me the slingshot, not the others. I just had to trust them."
They show only enough of Doil's killing spree to get the fear across. They cut out the worst of it. Badge had been right when he'd said Doil had crossed a line. Killing and gore were all fine and dandy, but the Capitol editors drew a line with rape and torture. They don't air the actual footage of his kills, just the screams and the horrified looks on the faces of the Tributes with hearing range. Certainly enough to make him particularly villainous when we set our plan in motion. More than enough to make me look like the great hero.
The editors lay in clips our plan going south before they cut back to my fire. Clips of Phaedra and Pentheus interrupting. The deaths of my friends. And then there's me, looking cold and frightened. Doil looking downright menacing, leering over me. Seeing it without the adrenaline, without the all-consuming fear, makes me ill. I try to keep it out of my face. I try to look stoic, like Victors are supposed to. I still want to be sick as my on-screen self is caught and sliced up before shoving the awl into Doil's throat.
Something must slip into my face, because Julius smiles fondly.
"Close call, this one?" He says and his tone isn't the least bit mean. Just earnest.
"Y-Yes." I say. I have to cough again before I can continue. "I-I knew something was wrong. I knew they hadn't left me on purpose." It's somehow easier to talk about my friends than what I have done. I still want to cry, but talking about their loyalty is much easier than talking about my own guilt. Julius sees where I'm going and takes the lead.
"Even though they were your competitors?" He asks me.
"What D-D-Doil was doing – he – i-it was just so horrible." I say. "T-They – Zeke and Rose and Badge – they were too good to just let something like that happen, even to a competitor." I explain. Julius nods, smiles again. The footage keeps running.
The editors gloss over the three days I was out. Most of it's in a montage with the same epic music from the beginning. Clips of Girls 8 and 11 trying to lure out the Career pack with Zeke getting my sponsor gift and getting me back on my feet. There's some of Pentheus, my new and ultimate enemy, getting a sponsor gift too. Finally the end of the Career pack and my discovery of the croc-mutts.
It all gears up for Zeke's fight with Lace.
That they show. Edited down for dramatic effect, I'm sure, but more or less intact. I'm able to hold it together long enough for my on-screen self to find the mortally wounded Zeke. When he starts to sing, I loose it.
It's the song I hear in my nightmares and there is no way I can hold myself completely together.
It's not as bad as it could be. It's not a proper sob, but I can feel my face heat up. My vision blurs with tears and it must look terrible. Julius notices. He leans in to pat my shoulder while I wipe at my eyes. The audience actually sounds a bit like they're sniffling a little too. It occurs to me that it's not because Zeke is dead, but because it hurts me.
"I-I-I'm sorry." I say and I have to cough to clear the lump in my throat. "I-I-It's just – Zeke was my friend."
"He was very brave." Julius agrees.
"H-He did so much for me." I clear my throat again and try to focus on the screen again. Julius doesn't ask anything else and I am grateful.
The footage skims over that last night and the final morning too. They only show enough of my weeping and clutching at the sponsor cube from Thom to make it look like I'm pining for him. There's barely a blip of Lace's death and very little of my hike to the floodwaters. But there's a lot of Pentheus and Flynn's fight.
Like Zeke and Lace's, I'm sure it's trimmed down to make it much more exciting. I'm sure it's been cut and arranged to make Pentheus look particularly hulking and evil too.
"Why did you shout for Flynn?" Julius asks.
"H-He's from home." I explain. "I-I know him from school and from town. H-H-His family lives up the coast from us. Lobstermen." I say. "H-He is – was – a good sort. He was kind. I had to warn him."
"That was very good of you." Julius smiles.
"He was kind." I say again and it's true.
"What about Pentheus?" Julius asks, while the footage moves on to that last chase into the trees.
"W-What about him?" I ask.
"He'd had it out for you." Julius observes.
"I-I-I was the last one standing." I remind him. "T-T-The last obstacle. I d-don't think he liked that I wasn't, well, a warrior like him and that I'd still made it so far." The words are quiet. This evening is quite possibly the most I've had to speak since I was pulled from the Arena. The anxiety and the grief and the effort of holding them in have all started to wear on me and it can be heard in my voice.
"But you still won." The footage has reached its climax now. With Pentheus and my swim across through the floodwaters. The music is particularly dramatic as the croc-mutts close in. I look tragically noble, standing atop the rubble, in the rain and above the flood, awl in hand. Julius smiles at me again. He even sounds a little bit proud. I just nod. I don't trust my voice anymore and I'm not sure I can take many more questions.
I'm grateful when the Games' anthem plays again and the footage ends. The audience erupts into more whoops and cheers. Julius beams and tries to settle them down.
"Excellent!" He says and he sounds triumphant. "What a finish! Good show! Last question, Maggie, before we let you off to celebrate." He still sounds like he's a little proud of what I've done. That makes one of us. "You've just won the 10th Annual Hunger Games, you've nabbed the most eligible bachelor in all of Panem – what do you want to do next?"
"H-Home." I say. It sounds more like a sigh than I'd intended, but I don't care. "I would like to go home."