A/N: It's sequel time! If you haven't read The Odds, then you don't have to, but this story might make a bit less sense - it is essentially a Hatchetfield Catching Fire AU to follow up on the unhappy ending of the previous Hunger Games AU. Trigger warnings include canon typical violence and character death, as well as references to abuse and torture. Please take care and read at your own discretion. Enjoy!
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Pete never finished his school project.
It's silly, for him to think of it now, but he had been Reaped in the middle of term time and he's had bigger things to worry about every day since then. Richie had been so excited to get started on it. The two of them had hunkered down in his bedroom to work on it the day it was assigned, pleased to have a chance to prove themselves. To who, he doesn't really know; their classmates would've only hated him more for doing better than them. They'd let Ruth join them because she claimed her partner hated her anyway, so she would just do all the work by herself and share the credit. Pete had shrugged and let her do what she wanted - it would have been hypocritical of him to tell her to be less pessimistic.
"I've never finished a school project in my life." Steph is saying now, sat next to him on the cement floor of his new room in District 13. The lights are in the early morning phase of their cycle and he can't see her expression in the dim light, but he knows the shape of her face by heart. They've been here a few weeks by now and the steel and stone walls still don't feel like home, but he gets somewhere close when Stephanie Lauter holds his hand. She reaches for him, wiping at his damp cheek.
He doesn't know why he's crying over this. "Richie would've had to finish it by himself, and I never even thought about it, about him-"
"It's okay," She tries to soothe him, running a hand through his hair. It's in a bit of a state - he'd fallen out of bed flailing in the midst of some nightmare or other, he can barely remember it now, and Steph had woken to comfort him almost instantaneously. "He loved that shit, and besides, I'm sure he was happy you focused on keeping yourself alive."
"I let him down, Steph."
Pete's breath finally slows as he listens to the ever present hum of the generators, and the soft sound of Steph's breathing beside his own.
"You didn't, Pete." She starts, but he interrupts, pulling away from the hand she's now resting gently on his arm.
"I was glad, you know, that it was me and not him. That it was- that it was you and not Ruth. How messed up is that? And after everything, they're dead anyway." He dreams sometimes, of Richie being stabbed by Max Jägerman. Of Ruth, burning in District 3.
"I'm sorry." She whispers. "I am. This must be so hard for you."
He blinks at her, shifting closer again by way of apology and getting a better look at her in the process. "You're angry." He observes.
"Not at you."
"The Capitol?"
She snorts derisively. "Right now, at everyone but you, Pete. But the Capitol especially."
Pete wipes his eyes on his pyjama sleeve, and reaches for Steph carefully. "Me too. I have these nightmares, Steph, where I'm just hurting them. Peacekeepers, the President... Dr Perkins once, even if she did turn out to be on our side."
"You want to make them pay." She nods with understanding. There is almost relief in her eyes, her shoulders relaxing by a millimetre. "So do I."
"That's why we're doing all this, right?" He means the District 13 military training they've enrolled in, like they're back in those days before the Arena again; joining the active resistance will prove to the Capitol they're 'alive and well' according to Dr Perkins. "To kick their heads." He smiles to himself.
"Heads?"
"It's a joke, in my family. My Uncle Bill... well, its a long story."
She smiles anyway. "I like it. We'll kick their heads if its the last thing we do." Her expression falters at the phrasing, but Pete speaks before she can correct herself.
"Yeah." He murmurs, mouth set with determination. "That's who we are now, right? Soldiers?"
Steph gives his shoulder a squeeze, and then trails her hand down to grip his. She rests her head on his shoulder and in that spot, safely hanging onto each other for dear life, Pete's eyes flutter closed again with a little sigh. "Soldiers." She says almost to herself with a nod.
Jane Perkins and her inner circle have started a war, that much is clear now. Paul had just wanted to do something good, but maybe this is it. How it has to be, in this screwed up world full of ever more screwed up people. Steph forces her eyes to stay open until her mind starts to drift and her brain can no longer order them to.
She falls back asleep beside Pete, until his brother comes in without knocking and finds them there the next day.
