Saw an absolute garbage take on tiktok today and then @mandrake-mistakes lightly bullied me into writing a missing moment I've had swirling around my head for a while. I'll be adding it to my missing moments fic shortly but sometimes it's fun to put some fic on the dash.
"I'm with the Mockingjay," Haymitch says.
And with that, my stomach plummets. My eyes start to go dark around the edges. I'm staring at my hands, what's left of them, anyway. What's left of us? This handful of Victors who just secured a future as bleak as the past we fought to change.
"Excellent. That carries the vote. Now we really must take our places for the execution," Coin says.
Katniss says something to her as she passes to leave. I don't care what she says. Not anymore. I bury my face in my hands, my tender skin stinging at every point of contact. I don't care about the pain. Not anymore.
Coin leaves. People sweep into the room, tossing powder and instructions at the Mockingjay and pulling her out the door. I watch as the other Victors follow her, but Haymitch hangs back.
The two of them, always with their secret codes. Their secret plans. The rage consumes me all at once and I jump to my feet, then throw my chair as hard as I can against the ground. The sound of the wood splintering satisfies the beast in me. If I had the time I would tear this entire building to the ground, piece by piece. Maybe after I'm certain Snow has taken his last breath, I'll come back and do just that.
"Watch it, boy," Haymitch snarls.
I can't help myself. I grab him by the shoulders and slam him into the wall. He doesn't fight back, and I wonder if he even has the fight left to do so.
"Do you know what you just did?!" I shout. "Do you even understand what you caused, or are you too drunk to care?"
"Pull yourself together. Now." His voice is quiet but stern, and his eyes hold mine firmly. "Last thing we need is for the guards to sedate you. I need your help."
A hollow laugh falls from my mouth as I release him. I look down at my hands and see that some of the tender pink skin on my hands is bleeding. How appropriate, now that the blood of every child who dies in the Hunger Games from here on out is on our hands.
Real or not real? She made my hands bleed like this once. All of the same rage all for the crime of…what? Loving her? Who knows. I have no one left to ask, no one left to trust. My head aches. I want to lie down and I'm not sure I'll ever get back up.
"I'm not helping either one of you ever again," I tell Haymitch.
Their secret codes. Their secret plans.
"You're seeing the pieces. Look at the board," he says.
It's not the first time he's told me this, I know that. But everything is too shiny and muddled and painful to remember when I've heard this before. He's talking about the big picture, I guess.
"What, we get to kill Snow? Well, whoopie, but it feels a bit hollow now that nothing we fought for matters," I say dryly.
"It's not over 'til the Mockingjay sings," he counters.
The Mockingjay. Katniss. Singing. Katniss singing, now I wouldn't mind that. Would I? Stay focused. What is he saying? My head hurts too much for this. My hands are still bleeding. There's blood on our hands. But maybe it's not over?
"I don't understand," I plead.
"I thought you were getting better."
"I am! I was! I thought I was, but now I don't know! I don't know anything anymore! The Katniss I knew would never allow the Hunger Games to continue!" I bellow.
"That's right. She wouldn't." His voice is so eerily calm it unsettles me.
I freeze. I replay the past several minutes. The vote. The rose. For Prim. And then I understand.
She wouldn't. And she won't.
"Haymitch, what is she going to do?" I whisper.
"No idea," he says, clapping me on the shoulder a little too hard. "Be ready."
With that, he follows the crowd and leaves me rubbing my left shoulder to try and minimize the pain. And then my stomach plummets, yet again.
I know exactly what she's going to do.
