Chapter 8: In Which There Is A Victor

"I just… I just miss him. And I hate being so alone." Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games

She was soaked to the bone. It was dark out. And she could barely see the tree in front of her, her knife buried in the trunk. At any moment, she knew she could be struck down by lightning, but Magnus was dead.

Magnus was dead.

Magnus was dead.

Magnus was dead.

Magnus was dead.

Magnus was dead.

Magnus was d-e-a-d, dead.

Capital 'D' dead.

And there was absolutely nothing she could do about it.

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Helena didn't say anything when she came home.

She was dripping a rather big puddle on the kitchen floor. Her teeth chattered comically. Her whole body trembled. Her knees were weak under her.

But Magnus was dead.

Helena helped her strip off her clothes and wrapped a quilt around her shoulders, drawing her in for a hug.

She hadn't realized she was so cold.

"I'm sorry," Helena said into Annabeth's hair. She combed her fingers through it and kissed Annabeth's forehead. "I'm so, so sorry."

There was nothing else she could say.

[line break]

Annabeth lied in her bed for… well, she wasn't sure how long. But the storm had passed and the sun was filtering in. It was too bright and cheery.

She turned over to her other side. The bed wasn't anymore comfortable and the room wasn't any less bright.

Matthew and Bobby stood outside her door, looking in. Their eyes were red, and their cheeks were stained with tears.

"Hi," she said, her voice scraping against her throat. She blinked up at them as they shuffled inside, Bobby closing the door behind them.

Matthew ruffled his hair, his eyes going anywhere except her face. He flexed his bare feet, toes curling and uncurling.

"What do you two need?" Annabeth said, sitting up. She smoothed out her blankets as best she could.

"Can, um," Bobby said, "can we sleep in here tonight?"

She paused in her movements.

"My bed's a bit small."

"That wasn't a no," Matthew said, sitting down next to her. Bobby moved to the other side.

Somehow, the three of them managed to settle somewhat comfortably on the bed. The boys were firmly cuddled up to her sides. They hadn't slept like this since they were very little and had nightmares.

Annabeth felt her eyes grow hot as tears started to prick at the corners. With them there, everything felt real, tangible. She wasn't sure she wanted that yet.

"Annie?" Matthew said, his voice soft in the silence of the room.

"Yeah?"

"Magnus isn't coming back, is he?"

Annabeth bit her tongue. Her heart dropped as she processed his words. Carefully, she kissed him on the forehead and rubbed his arm wrapped around her.

"No," she said, feeling the word as it tried to catch in her throat. "No, he's not."

"Oh." He was quiet for a moment, then he added, "Can you promise me something?"

"Yeah, I can."

"Promise me you won't go into the Hunger Games."

She had to pause at that. The odds weren't in their family's favor. They'd lost three to the games already, plus one as a result of two of them.

She couldn't make the promise, but she could sure as hell try.

"Cross my fingers and my toes."

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"Are you going to watch today?" Helena said as she poured the breakfast mush into everyone's bowls. She made direct eye contact with Annabeth as she spoke.

Annabeth paused in picking up her spoon. Legally, all citizens had to attend, even after their family had been murdered in the games. It was one of the many things the Capitol did to remain in control of the districts. The only way a person could was if they were on death's door.

There were ways to get around it. Everyone, including the Peacekeepers, knew it.

Annabeth had picked up the tricks after Emma was shot in the neck five years ago during her games. She had learned more when Aubrey had her skull caved in when she had been in the arena.

Now she can add more tricks to the list for Magnus.

"No," Annabeth said, taking a bit of the mush.

There was a pause in the eating, but no one said a thing. Helena nodded slowly, taking a sip of water she'd set aside for herself.

"As soon as the games have ended," Frederick said, mostly to himself, "we'll be able to lie him to rest next to…"

He didn't need to say who. All of them knew. Matthew and Bobby hadn't really known Emma, Aubrey, and Aunt Caroline, but the boys were aware of who they were. And they knew they had all died. They had been spared the details, however.

"Be careful," Helena said. "I don't think the Peacekeepers would be too forgiving. Even if…"

She looked away from them, out to the window.

Annabeth couldn't tell for certain, but she thought, when the light caught Helena's cheeks just right, the glint of tears.

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Percy won.

Annabeth missed the exact details, but District 8 could only talk about it for a week. He was thirteen, and he'd won. Against all odds, young and injured and alone, he'd taken on the two older Careers and killed them.

He'd been blessed with an expensive gift from a rather generous donor in the Capitol, and he'd slaughtered the two Careers.

If she'd honestly wanted, she would have watched the recaps of the win.

She wanted to scream, to pull out her hair, to beat someone senseless, to cry… But none of it would have mattered, anyway. Percy would have had to kill Magnus in order to win, so it was still a loss for her family.

She vowed, on the dagger Luke had given her all those years ago, that she would kill him if she was ever introduced to him.