.

iii. hindsight
a recollection of the past in reference to the present

Amidst the darkness in his mind's eye, there's only one thing that Raptor can really see – a tallish blonde figure dressed in all white. It's himself, he realizes after a moment.

The figure's pristine and perfect though. That's not what Raptor looks like anymore. No, when he looks down, there may not be any blood and the pain may have subsided, but his right wrist is still missing and his left hand still only has three fingers. There's still a feeling of emptiness inside of his skull that only an eyeball can replace.

He's almost at peace with this version of himself. He would be entirely if he wasn't forced to look at everything he once was – the Raptor Voinov before the Games. That's also who he'd be if he died. Nobody would remember what he did and in a few years, any remnants of his existence would be gone like dust in the wind.

But now he's in the middle, and that sort of makes everything terrible. He knows what happened to get to this point. Eirian died and then he killed Berengar and nothing made sense until he found their dead bodies and his consciousness came back. But then it left just as quickly and suddenly he was standing on the edge of a roof, watching Mahina from Five try and take her own life out of fear. Suddenly, he dove after her.

It's been a void ever since, save for the version of himself that keeps staring him down and occasionally laughing mockingly.

"So you're just going to stand there?" it asks at some point. "Since when has that been your style?"

"What am I supposed to do?" Raptor murmurs. He hasn't known for quite some time. He didn't know what to do the night before the Games when Berengar hit him. He didn't know what to do when Eirian was so close to him. He didn't know what to do when Berengar was so close to Eirian because he was killing him.

He sure as hell hasn't known what he's supposed to do since.

"You always wanted a final fight, didn't you?"

"Huh?"

Raptor remembers him and Mahina on the roof. He remembers his desperation when she jumped and it clicked in his mind that he may never get one.

"Raptor, this is your final fight."

"How?"

"Look at me," the figure says as if Raptor hasn't been looking at it this entire time. "I'm your last opponent. I know I'm you, but I'm also your death. You fucked yourself up real bad, idiot. Now do you want to survive or not?"

Yes. Raptor does want to survive. He may not know what's going to be on the other side once he wakes up, but he wants to find out.

(He doesn't deserve to find out. Everything he did is reflective of somebody who deserves to die and rot. Everything he did proves that it should be Eirian in this situation instead.)

(But if people die when they don't deserve it, could the same be said about people living?)

He doesn't talk back to the figure, instead bunching together all three of his fingers and charging in its direction.

"That's what I thought."

It has the clear advantage physically, but Raptor's determined to outwit it. If it really is him both before and after the Games, it doesn't have motivation or desires. It's just a robotic prick waiting for something to take it by surprise and prove everything wrong.

So when his punch misses, Raptor isn't even bothered. He feels his heart beating out of his chest and his sweat dripping hot down his face, but it's not a bad thing. If anything, it's exciting. Because even when it kicks him in the jaw, it's a learning experience. It's a reminder of everything Raptor was capable of before he got torn apart and destroyed, but it's not what Raptor needed to be in order to get this far.

"You don't get to decide my fate for me," Raptor hisses, then jabs his stub in the square of the figure's throat. "I don't need to be you anymore!"

"Don't you want to be me?" It grabs onto his shoulders and tries to push him aside, but his feet remain firmly planted in the ground. "Don't you want to see Eirian and Berengar again?"

(A voice in his head whispers, "You don't."

"Not yet, at least," another one adds.)

"I don't need to be you!" Raptor repeats and then kicks at the figure's stomach. "I'm my own person now and not whatever you are."

"If you're not me, who are you?"

That's the thing. Raptor doesn't know. But if he's gotten this far without that knowledge, it must mean that he's bound to find out.

"It doesn't matter!" He growls as the figure wraps its hands around his calf in an attempt to knock him over. "I don't have to know now, but I'm going to eventually."

"I think you know exactly who you are." It lets go of his leg and punches his cheek then his stomach. "Everybody saw what you did in there. They all know for certain that you're a monster."

Maybe that's true but it can't be everything that Raptor is. He has to be more than that.

"Well then I'll become something different." He sticks all three of his fingers inside the figure's mouth, desperately trying to pry open its jaw. "I'm only eighteen – I have at least seventy years to prove them wrong."

"And you're sure that's enough time?" The figure's voice is all distorted as it sinks its teeth into Raptor's knuckles and bites hard.

"It'll have to be enough." Raptor squeezes his stomach tight and continues to pull downward.

The figure slaps his hand, freeing it from its mouth. Raptor kicks it in the chest, and it falls back a smidge, but it's very clearly still ready to fight back.

"Then I'll let you decide for yourself," it drawls. "When you wake up, at least half of the country is going to hate you. You'll be faced with insurmountable grief and guilt and the injuries you sustained will not heal easily. All you'll have is your life; are you ready to face it?"

Raptor doesn't even need to think about it. After all, he's never been one to back down from a challenge.

"Well, it was about time sleeping beauty woke up." Raptor only vaguely recognizes whoever's voice it is as he blinks away his fuzzy vision. "Good morning princess!"

He takes deep breaths as the world unblurs around him to reveal he's in a bright white room with fluorescent lighting and various monitors everywhere – what the fuck? Raptor's heart starts racing. "Why am I back in the arena again?"

"Ah, we were taking bets on whether you'd think that." It's then that he realizes it's Madoka who's been talking, and she's been standing to the right of Raptor's bed alongside Vito. Their presence means he's thankfully not in that hellhole once more, phew. "Pay up, Zirensky."

"Really? That's your concern right now?" Vito says. "My first victor's finally awake after twenty-three days –" Holy shit? – "and you're thinking about thirty dollars?" With a sigh, he reaches for his wallet in his pocket and hands it to Madoka. "Welcome back, Raptor. We're happy to have you here. How are you feeling?"

"I'm not…" he mutters.

The only thing Raptor feels is overwhelming stiffness, like if he tries to move his body too much, it'll start cracking. Maybe he's just no longer used to not being in excruciating pain at any given moment – pain so bad it stopped feeling like pain and turned into something entirely different.

Raptor's sole remnant of pain comes from his head. Even then, it's not too bad – just a dull throbbing headache that's noticeable enough to be a slight nuisance.

"I mean, that's better than feeling like… whatever everything you went through in there felt like?" Madoka awkwardly chuckles.

"It didn't feel great," Raptor says. "I'd say it felt the exact opposite of great, actually."

"I can only imagine." Vito shakes his head. "But frankly, I don't want to imagine. They spent quite a bit of time patching you up, so everything should be a bit better, right?"

"I'm still missing an eye," Raptor notices. Even though he feels something in his socket, he can still only see from his right side. It's uneasy and strange for sure.

"You are. It doesn't look like it, but there's still only one eye connected to your brain. If the doctors here could properly replicate it, they would. So… um… sorry about that."

"Don't get him excited," Madoka quips. "You have a glass eye, so it can't move around which can be awkward at times, and they'll probably never come up with a way to replicate vision, so you're stuck like this for now."

Vito crosses his arms and grunts. "Sheesh, Mads, why are you such a downer today?"

"He killed my Tribute," she replies. "I'm allowed to be passive-aggressive."

"You said to me several times that you didn't like him."

"I didn't – he was a major dickhead."

Right. Berengar. Raptor sure did kill him, huh? Maybe that's a part of the reason he feels such a strong sense of emptiness now. Usually, the other boy is his primary medical caretaker and not a bunch of people he's never even met. Even though Berengar knew jack shit about the human body, it was endearing watching him try to figure it out after the two of them roughhoused too hard.

But none of that matters now. Berengar's still dead and his blood is still metaphorically on his—

"Wait! What about my hands?" Raptor asks. He can't really feel anything below his elbows, so he can't really tell whether or not they're there or how many fingers they have.

"You've still got exactly three fingers, buddy," Vito says. "BTe good news is – the Capitol's prosthetics are fairly advanced so even though they look unnatural, with the power of time and physical therapy, you'll eventually be able to use them as if they were real."

Huh? Raptor peaks under the covers to see his right hand and left index and pointer fingers formally replaced with soft copper metal. That's… significantly better than what he expected.

"How come it took twenty-three days to fix me?"

(It then dawns on him that that's longer than the time for which he knew Eirian. How discomforting.)

"Like I said, you took quite the beating." Vito walks over to a series of charts, all of which show a body completely ravaged by injuries and infections. It takes a second, but Raptor realizes that the body is his. "There were a few moments where we didn't think you'd make it and about a day in, you were legally dead for a good hour and a half. But, by some miracle, here you are!"

Raptor knows it's no stroke of luck, but rather his own decision that brought him here. Whether that's a good thing or a bad thing is yet to be decided.

"Is it bad that my head still hurts?" he asks. "Maybe hurt is the wrong word – it's just really tight."

Madoka snorts. "Well Vito, are you really to tell him?"

"Tell me what?"

Were these past five minutes some sort of fucked up hallucination and now the rug is about to be pulled from underneath his feet because he's been dead the whole time? Will whatever Vito says make him wish he was?

"So…" Vito pulls up a chair and sits by Raptor's bed. "When you decided to dive off the roof, your brain didn't exactly like that. That's most of the reason you were out so long – they had to do a few operations."

"I got lobotomized?" If that's the case, Raptor at least gave them easy access thanks to the whole one eye thing. Also, why the fuck did he jump off the roof again? Is it bad that he doesn't really want to remember?

"Not really… or at all." The mentor sighs. "There's really no easy way for me to phrase this but—"

"What the fuck did they do to my brain then?"

"It was more so your skull."

"Was that supposed to make me feel better?" Raptor pouts. "Because it didn't – just so you know."

Madoka hisses, "Let the man speak."

"Fine."

"Okay basically, you had what I like to call a mega-concussion," Vito says, pausing as if he's waiting for Raptor to laugh, which he doesn't do because his mentor wasn't being funny in the slightest. "Your brain was incredibly swollen, so they kind-of sort of had to drill a hole in your skull and…"

This has got to be some kind of a sick joke. One of the few things Raptor remembers about the morning where Eirian died (and he killed Berengar and was never the same) was that there was some skull drilling involved.

"...they were able to cut a nice chunk of it off."

"You're doing a really shit job at explaining all of this." Madoka laughs to herself. "Raptor, he's not exactly being reassuring now is he?"

"Yeah… not really."

"Okay well you're not dead, so at least there's that!" Vito shouts. "You were out for so long because your brain needed to be aired out and drained of all that fluid. They glued the piece of your skull back to your body a few days ago and now here we are."

"That… doesn't really explain the headache." Raptor squints as if it'll somehow stop the tightness, but it doesn't. "Wouldn't my head hurt less now that it's all there?"

"Oh yes. Well, the operation isn't why your head hurts…"

"Huh?"

"Let me just show you a mirror." Madoka grabs one off one of the monitors and sticks it in front of Raptor's face.

He can't help but instantly scream. "Holy fucking shit…"

The glass eye is fine. Sort of weird, but he'll get used to it. It's whatever. There's a gold tooth and that's actually pretty cool. What isn't fine or cool is the thick neon green cap that's fitted tightly over his head. "What the fuck is that?"

"It's your recovery helmet," Madoka says, far too casually. "I named it Emrik."

"I don't want Emrik," Raptor mumbles. "It makes me look fucking ugly." He never even cared about his personal appearance up until this point, but that chartreuse monstrosity really has a way of pointing out his flaws.

"Emrik uses he/him and without him you'd look fucking dead."

"That's it, I'm going back to bed."

"Good luck with that." Vito says. "It'll probably be like five hours instead of twenty-three days again. They're going to want to interview you tonight or tomorrow."

But Raptor isn't worried about that as he slips back into the night.

He should have been way more worried about his interview. Answering Lyn Guini's initial questions wasn't too difficult, even if the audience met him with very little enthusiasm. Watching the recap of the Games on the other hand is its own separate ballpark.

What Raptor did to Maverick was hard to watch, especially given the fact he was entirely cognizant when it happened. It makes him wonder if his descent into what's yet to come was always something he was capable of. It must be…

Lycoris' death is equally, if not more difficult to watch back. It's not only because the camera angles really emphasized how weak the Tribute from Eleven was – Berengar was also there. When he starts calling Raptor names, he gets mad at the other boy all over again, and has to will himself not to. He knows that the worst is yet to come, even if he doesn't necessarily know what the worst is yet.

Part of the worst is definitely Eirian and how he slowly declines right before Raptor's eyes. Even though the cameras portray him as a hero, his struggles are as clear as day. Raptor never wanted to remember them, but he knows that being alive comes with a price.

(And that price just so happens to be feelings of dread when people hardly clap when he takes the stage and nausea whenever he remembers what could've been but never was.)

Even though he's done everything he can to brace himself, he's just as unprepared to watch Eirian die as he was back then. Frantically, Raptor grabs his chair's armrest and hunches over, his stomach churning and twisting itself into knots until Berengar's drill is against the One boy's head and Raptor—

"Shit…" He looks down at the vomit now covering his dress shirt, the back of his throat now burning and sore.

Lyn pauses the video and squints with genuine disgust. "Ummm… Luv, can you get Toto a bib?"

"Don't want to, but I sure can!" The Master of Ceremonies' intern scrambles around behind the stage and then comes back with a sheet of plastic. They cut a hole in it then pull it through Raptor's helmet and onto his shoulders. "Next time, try not puking. Hope that helps!"

"Get off the stage, Luv. This is Raptor and I's interview, not yours."

"Of course it is…"

With Luv away, Lyn directs their attention back to Raptor. "I hate to tell you this, but we are indeed broadcasting this to the entire country?"

"The fuck?" Raptor mumbles, still stricken with embarrassment over the fact he puked himself in front of an audience of thousands that's apparently now an audience of almost a million.

"You need all of the pity points you can get, my friend. That, and it'd be a continuity error if one second you didn't have a bib and the next you did."

They waste no time in resuming the video and suddenly Raptor's wanting to puke all over again and probably would be if he had any remaining food in his stomach.

Everything about that morning is just as terrible as Raptor remembered and the explicit details make it even worse. It's just… all so awful. Him and Berengar arguing while Eirian trembled. Berengar showing no mercy before the One boy dropped to the ground. Raptor's face turning bright red as he killed Berengar in a way so violent, you'd think he was never alive in the first place.

That can't be me, right? Raptor tries to close his eye, but Lyn repeatedly coughs to get his attention.

Still, Raptor doesn't want to look because he knows it is him. No matter what he does from here on out, this is how most people will remember him, and he somehow has to be okay with that.

(At the end of the day, he still can't say he has any regrets. Even if everything he did was disgusting and vile, they led him here. They gave him a second chance of being human, even if the world will forever see him as a monster.)

(Well, maybe the cliff diving was a bit stupid.)

Nothing gets better from there and Raptor recognizes himself less and less. Not just because of the way his body gets ruined, but because of the furious look on his face that he's never seen before. Is this who people in Two always saw when they looked at him.

Luckily, they cut the footage right after Raptor's jump. They showed all the nitty-gritty of what happened to Eirian, so was he and Mahina on the ground seriously more graphic than that? The fact he doesn't have to find out is a small but undoubtedly welcome mercy.

"Well, in the past three weeks, there's been a lot we've been wondering about." Lyn cuts right to the chase. "I'll start with the biggest question – why did you jump off the roof? I'm sure you know that you would've won either way."

Raptor sighs. "I honestly don't know…"

A part of him truthfully doesn't. The other part remembers the sheer desperation he felt when everything was taken away one by one. Eirian then Berengar then the Twelve Tribute he wanted to fight and then Foden. Raptor never got that big triumphant fight he's dreamed about since was thirteen, but maybe if he made it down where Mahina was, he'd be able to properly fight her and win in a way that isn't just standing around and waiting.

(If his real final fight took place in his mind, Raptor almost wishes the fall killed him instead. That way, he wouldn't have to explain everything.

But, life is something he explicitly chose. As much as it sucks, there's some unknown force that's pushing him to keep living his.)

"Oh…" Lyn sighs. "I can't say that's very interesting."

A collective "boo" echoes from the audience, but Raptor hardly cares. As much as he wanted this stage and the chance to prove himself to these people before, he now finds that it quite literally does not matter. Everybody here sees him as an idea, the same way people did at home. They all want him to be their perfect little stuck-up bootlicker, and that's not who Raptor is.

If he's going to live, he's not going to do it to appease anybody but himself. Then again, he's not particularly sure what'd make him happy. But, he has to learn.

"I wasn't there to be interesting," Raptor says, which just makes even more people groan. "I was there to survive."

"And survive you did! Isn't that epic?" Lyn applauds.

"It's still something I'm coming to terms with. I feel like I'm a whole new person than I was when I first got here." Maybe that's not the best thing for him to say considering all that's happened and all he's done between now and then, but it's whatever.

"Who is that new person?" Again, Lyn tries to rile up the audience. Again, they just sort of sit around awkwardly. But that's fine – Raptor doesn't want the expectations that'd come if they learned to love him. "I imagine killing a small child, leaving your ally to die, butchering your childhood best friend as if he was a cow, taking out somebody's eye and then taking out your own eye, losing a hand, and killing somebody with a mix of electro-therapy and hot pieces of metal can change a person."

"Again, I don't know."

Also, why'd Lyn have to say everything like that. They make it sound like Raptor's a terrible, horrible, irredeemable person and…. shit, maybe he is. But, he's not yet had a chance to redeem himself to the people who matter. He doesn't even know who those people are besides the two that are dead.

Lyn rolls their eyes – rude – and stands up tall. "Alright, Toto. If you don't want to cooperate and answer my questions, I'll just move on to the next part of this ceremony."

Suddenly, the audience is dripping with enthusiasm. It almost tempts him to wish they reacted to him like that, but he knows he needs to stay strong. If he wants these people to want him, he shouldn't have made the choice to live.

Even though President Hirohito is downright horrific as she walks onto the stage, her head held high and her posture seemingly robotic, it's better than answering Lyn's questions. In one hand, she holds a crisp silver envelope and in the other, a golden wreath. Just the sight of her makes everybody in the crowd roar furiously.

"Greetings, Lady President." Lyn gestures to their seat, their confidence suddenly shaken. "Thank you so much for joining us tonight."

"You're welcome," she says flatly. "Raptor, let me first congratulate you on winning."

"Um… thanks?" He sinks back into his chair. The President doesn't seem to like the vast majority of Panem's recent victors, at least not enough that she'd publicly express it. "What've you got there in your hand?"

"I was about to tell you. I trust you know what a Quarter Quell is."

"I do, yes." For a while, Raptor was pissed that he was a year too old to compete in the Forth Quell. Unless of course, they repeat the Third Quell's twist, but they barely have enough victors to make that happen, and it'd be counterproductive if they all died.

"Now, usually I announce them at the beginning of the year myself," the President drawls. "But, due to the nature of this specific twist, it needs to be disclosed as soon as possible."

Weren't the Quell twists decided upon right after the Dark Days? How would President Hirohito know to announce it early? Hopefully Raptor's not the only one wondering that until the President holds up the envelope, "100" etched on the front, and small writing underneath that reads, "Open at the conclusion of the Ninety-Ninth Games."

Yeah… that explains it. Or, this whole thing is bullshit – Raptor wouldn't put it past them.

Raptor raises his prosthetic hand so the President can wedge the envelope between two of his "fingers." His actual fingers on the other hand are enough to open it and take out the notecard. Briefly, he scans the text and lets out a slight gasp.

"Well, What does it say?"

"Ahem." He coughs twice. "On the one-hundredth anniversary, as a reminder that though the Capitol gave the rebels ample time to prepare, they still dissented, Tributes will be reaped in December and taken to the Capitol until July to prepare themselves for the Games."

The President smirks as the audience erupts in the most egregious applause of the evening. But, all Raptor can think about is what would've been different if he, Berengar, and Eirian were just a year younger.

Him and Eirian would have time to actually get to know each other, and maybe Berengar would've learned to get along with him. Nothing would be the same, and it'd probably be Eirian sitting proud on this stage instead.

Maybe with more time, Raptor wouldn't have minded that.

The train ride feels a lot longer without Berengar here to incessantly pester him in a way he can't help but enjoy. Raptor didn't think he'd be too worried about returning to Two, but the awkward silence throughout this journey has led him to think otherwise.

With less than half an hour until they arrive, Raptor can't stop himself from asking, "Is there a reason you haven't said much? Is there something I need to worry about?"

"Worry's the wrong word here," Madoka says, clearly exhausted and lying flat on the couch. "They sent my ladyfriend over right after you won to keep the peace – classic Peacekeeper behavior, I know – 'cause a lot of people weren't exactly pleased with you."

"It'll pass though!" Vito quickly interjects. "Everyone hated me when I first won, but they've learned to more-than-tolerate me."

"Why did they—" Raptor bites his tongue. "Yeah, okay I remember."

Even though Raptor never held that opinion, everybody back at Springridge was fucking pissed when Vito killed his District partner. At first, Raptor thought it was because y'know, familicide isn't a good look, but he gradually realized they were more concerned with him "dishonoring the loyalty and patriotism District Two is known for."

So that's probably why they hate Raptor now. Go figure. Probably doesn't help that unlike Vito, he was never the most popular amongst his peers, so nobody has any reason to doubt their distaste toward him now.

(If Eirian won, everybody in One would have been ecstatic. If Berengar won, maybe the people in Two would be less loathsome.)

"I won't lie, it's going to be a rough few months for you."

"Which is why I told you to make that disclaimer right when he woke up yesterday," Madoka shouts. "So he'd have more time to prepare for what's bound to be a shitshow of a homecoming."

"After the interview, I sort of assumed that's what I'm in for." That doesn't mean Raptor wanted to hear it out loud. Call him stupid, but he thought maybe there was a chance people back home (feels strange calling it that now) would at least be grateful that Two no longer has the least amount of victors post-rebellion.

But, he doesn't need their praise if they don't want to take him for what he is. Maybe in due time, they'll change their minds, but there's no use trying to persuade them now. After all, to them he's still a monster. He's yet to figure out who he really is, and that's an important first step before he changes their minds.

"I should also probably mention that your mother won't be there to greet you," Vito says. "I called her a million times when you were knocked out to give her updates, but she hung up everytime and said she didn't care since you're a 'stain to the family name' or something like that."

Oddly, Raptor's first reaction to that is laughter. He gave that woman everything she wanted – a victor that'd give the Voinov name some weight and meaning – and she still managed to find a way to find fault in that. At this point, there's no parts of this family left to be unstained.

"Of course she said that." He muffles his laughter with his prosthetic hand. "I'll probably be upset about this later, but for now you're allowed to laugh about it."

Madoka and Vito do not – valid.

But seriously, it's hard for Raptor to give a fuck about somebody who he already disagreed with when she didn't even show up to wish him well. She only loved the idea of what Raptor could be, and being alive is about being anything but that.

(If his own mom decidedly doesn't love him, does anybody?)

He almost wants to ask, "But what about my dad?" but that'd just be asking for disappointment. From what his mom said about him, Raptor doubts he even watched the Games in the first place.

"You'll be alright," Vito says. "You're not on your own here. There's already a house in Victors Village with your name on it, and they definitely had enough time to make it nice and tidy for you. If you ever need something, I'm right next door and Mads is next to me."

He'd completely forgotten about the new house. Damn, his mom really must hate him if she doesn't even want to live in one of the houses she used to spend hours raving about. That's… almost impressive in a way.

"I'll be sure to stop by."

Ten more minutes pass before the train comes to a halt at the station. Raptor sharply exhales – anxiety suddenly kicking in in full force.

Vito gets up and stares at him. "Don't worry. There'll be Peacekeepers with you, I promise it'll be safe."

But walking out into a crowd that hates you is objectively something to be very fucking worried about. Even as he locks arms with the officers, unease and dread brew in Raptor's stomach as he slowly arrives at the doors to outside.

"You ready?" One of the Peacekeepers asks.

Raptor takes a deep breath. "Sure. Here goes nothing."

They open the doors and Raptor steps out to an onslaught of red. His instincts say it's blood and now he has to fight back against it. Reality says it's tomatoes, which is just really annoying.

The Peacekeepers block most of them, but two hit his chest and another bounces off his helmet, which is probably not good.

"Get out of here before we use force," an officer shouts amidst a swarm of profanities from the crowd.

"Traitor!"

"Monster!"

"Idiot!"

"Waste!"

All those words have been thrown at Raptor before, but never all at once and by so many people. His confidence wavers but he clenches his jaw and maintains a stoic composure.

These people don't mean anything to you, he reminds himself. They don't know you yet!

More tomatoes and more insults, but Raptor has no choice besides grinning and bearing it. He knew being alive would be miserable, but he chose it anyway. Because, despite this and despite everything, he still has hope, even if it's quite literally the only thing he has.

All it takes is one Peacekeeper reaching for his gun for most of the crowd to disperse. "By the way, I had no plans of shooting," he then says. "Sometimes you just have to give them a good scare and they'll leave you alone."

Funny because Raptor gave many people scares and was in fact not left alone.

As the stragglers clear out, one of them particularly catches Raptor's eye. And no, it's not Vito or Madoka, even if they're a bit nice to have around too.

"Arvid?" Raptor chases toward a taller man with a few silver streaks in his blonde hair. Other than that, he's Raptor's splitting image.

"You know, you can also call me Dad."

His heart drops as the man – no, not just a man, my dad! – reaches out his arms. Without hesitating, Raptor embraces him in a hug and mutters, "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"I'd have thought your mother would've at least taught you that it's inappropriate to swear in front of your elders," he says with a cackle. "Why do you think I'm here? To see my little boy all grown up."

"Thank you?" Raptor stumbles out of the hug. "No actually, thank you so much. It's just that I haven't seen you in ages and wasn't expecting I'd ever see you again…"

"I wasn't expecting to see you either after I sent all that mail to your house but you never sent me any replies–"

"Wait what? I never got any mail."

"I sort of figured your mom destroyed all of it. I'm sure you can tell by now that she sort of hates everything about me."

"Yeah…" Maybe she's right to hate him. Maybe Raptor's unknowingly talking to a mob boss extortionist or some shit like that. Embarrassing that shared DNA made him drop his guard immediately. "Am I allowed to ask why? She never really told me."

His dad sighs. "She wanted to enroll you in training and I was very adamantly against it. I said kids aren't supposed to train like they're in the military and that I'm worried training would turn you into something that you're not."

"...and now you're here to see for yourself that you're right."

"Yeah, but that's not your fault. Everything you did in the arena is, sure. I'd still bet a million bucks that you wouldn't have done any of it if you never went to training."

Is it bad that Raptor doesn't really remember who he was before then?

"Even my classmates at Springridge said there's something wrong with me though. They trained the same way I did."

"But they surely weren't as determined since you're standing here and they're all either at home or in Peacekeeper barracks somewhere."

In an odd way, his dad's right. Why should Raptor care what people who scorned him at every turn think when they couldn't do better themselves?

"Besides, no son of mine would be satisfied with coming in second."

"More like Mom didn't let me not be the best…"

"But what if she wasn't there?"

Raptor laughs. "You've got me there. I'd still want to be the best."

They talk a bit more until the sun sets and he has to catch a train to get him closer to his place before it gets dark. Still, Raptor leaves the interaction with a smile on his face.

"I'll see you later Dad, right?"

"Of course!"

Meanwhile, Madoka and Vito stand with satisfied smirks. Raptor's brows furrow. "Did you guys know about this?"

"Sure did. Um… surprise?" Vito says.

"He kept reaching out to us while you were out." Madoka adds. "The guy was terrified you wouldn't make it. I think if he had a way to get to the Capitol, he'd have been there in a heartbeat."

If only he'd tried that hard when Raptor was younger. Maybe then he wouldn't have to be the way he is now.

Or maybe he would be, there's literally no way of knowing, and that's kind of great. It's not like there's no anything holding him back now regardless.

Raptor doesn't have to be his mother's perfect son, or the Academy's award-winning brute, or Berengar's worthy rival – all he has to do is be. And even if he doesn't know who he is outside the roles he's been shoved into right now, he has a whole lifetime to learn.

That's what he fought for, not the house or the fame or anything. Now that he's hit rock bottom, the only way to go is up so he intends to climb to the top even if he doesn't know what's at the summit.

So, as he stands between Vito and Madoka, a vibrant orange sunset casting over the giant buildings that don't really feel so giant anymore, Raptor Voinov can finally say he's satisfied.

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Well that sure was a ride, huh?

I'd say "introducing Raptor" but like if you're reading this, you've been more than adequately introduced. I appreciate you doing that.

Time to thank people!

First and foremost, thank you Void for making this absolute madlad who's been living rent-free in my head for an entire month. Seriously, I fucking adore Raptor Voinov with all my heart, if that wasn't made obvious by the 50,000 words, and I'm so glad I get to share him with the world and then actually talk to you about him because secrets are hard and I have been itching to discuss the most special boy in Panem. Hopefully you're satisfied with his story and regret saying you want his author to make him worse, because you did say you want to regret it and I did my very best.

Thank you to the SYOT Verses Discord Server's incredible mods for putting on this event for the third year. If you don't know what I'm talking about, every year the server does a little Secret Santa moment called Victor Exchange where everyone makes a Tribute and then somebody else has a month to write a story in which said kid wins. It was once again a lot of fun! Verses is a great place and genuinely a good percentage of my social life since 2020 and somewhere that's become a home – if you want a link, hit me up. I promise you won't regret it.

Lastly, thank you to two of my dearest friends, Em (District11-Olive) and Erik (geologyisms), for being my partners in brain damage for the month. It's been fun obsessing over our fics together and coming up with new ideas of how to make our respective children miserable. You're the best, and everyone should read y'all's fics right now. Thank you also Momo (twistedservice) beloved for being the best liaison of all time ever and sending me memes and being great.

The next part of this A/N is announcements? Kind of?

Okay I'll rip off the bandaid – new verse who dis? Yeah… we're in my Post-Canon era now and I'm fucking hype. I know I have loose ends to tie up in the Songbird's Preamble, but it's taking a backseat after WTP2 finishes up so we can all say hello to Semper et Numquam aka, my failed rebellion spectacular where I mainly pander to myself and everybody else gets to have fun and watch.

(Please ignore the fic listed as "Semper Idem" on my profile – it wound up being a prototype for this new verse. You can read the intros if you want because I think it's some of my strongest writing, but like for the most part, shit is changing.)

Because YAY! It's time for another Quarter Quell. I was so sneaky and clever and hot for revealing that in this fic. Ummm… more info on that once I'm finished with WTP2's Games. I'll tell you right now that it's going to be a good time, and of course we'll be seeing my beloved Raptor Voinov.

Phew, okay! That's all I wanted to say. Check out the blog if you want because I popped tf off with it, but mainly I'm here for Raptor thoughts and Raptor thoughts only. He is VERY important.

Fuck Raptor's stinky smelly rat ass, I'm out,
Linds