#cato x reader

“No, it won’t!” Hunter huffed, crossing his arms.

Luna scowled playfully.

“Fine,” she sighed, tugging lightly at his shirt collar to straighten it. “But try not to get this one too dirty, alright? I still have no idea how laundry works around here.”

They’d already gone through half the boys’ clothes — and that was with them wearing things on repeat. Most days, Luna and Mum had just been handwashing whatever they could manage in the tiny basin, using the rationed detergent they’d been given. But that was for the everyday stuff. These were their good shirts.

She moved to Prince next, quick and efficient, and he gave her a quiet little smile as she tucked a stray bit of hair back into place.

“Weren’t you clever to remember to bring some gel?” she teased, stepping back to check his overall look. “How are your shoes?”

“Fine,” he nodded. “I packed the big ones. Stuffed them with paper.”

That made her smile. Prince’s feet were growing fast — to be fair, Prince was growing fast — and he’d already outgrown the shoes she’d gotten him just last year. Thank goodness she’d thought to buy the next size up the last time around.

“Smart boy,” she exhaled, giving his shoulder a little pat.

Then she turned to Ted, and her expression tightened slightly when she noticed the top buttons of his shirt were undone.

No, that would not do.

“Mama!” he whined, trying to squirm away as she reached for him. “It’s my style!”

Luna raised a single brow. Style, was it?

“And what exactly are you hoping to show your new classmates, sweetheart?” she asked as she swiftly buttoned him up. “How smooth your chest is?”

Prince and Hunter snorted as she adjusted Ted’s shirt, her boy’s face going pink as she closed it up.

“I have chest hair!” he insisted.

“And so do I,” she replied simply. “Doesn’t mean anyone else can see it — unless they’re standing in front of a mirror, squinting at it while the sun hits just right.”

He pouted — honestly, he looked half like Jupiter at that age.

“Let’s wait a few more years of puberty and some informal occasions before you start showing off, alright?” she requested, patting his shoulders with a light squeeze. “This is school. Temporary school, but still school.”

Luna tried not to show her worry too much as she looked up at his blushing face. She cupped his cheeks and kissed his temple softly.

“You’re a very pretty and smart boy,” she reminded him gently. “No chest hair needed.”

The pout didn’t disappear from his lips, but he didn’t argue or reach for his buttons again, which she took as a small victory.

Then she moved on to Archie.

He stood still, shoulders a little stiff, jaw tight. He looked tense, far more so than the others.

“And what about you, my dear boy?” she asked softly, brushing her thumbs over his cheeks.

He lowered his eyes, the usual sparkle in them missing.

Luna pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“What is it?” she asked softly.

“I don’t know,” he mumbled. “Just nervous, I think.”

Luna watched him quietly for a moment, her hand still on his cheek as he leaned into it, all deflated.

“You’ll do great,” she said softly. “Sammy and Sweetie will be with you the whole time.”

As if on cue, Sweetie rushed to Archie’s side and grabbed his hand.

“We’ll sit with you!” he declared.

“Yes!” Sammy chimed in, bouncing on his toes. “And we’ll play with you too!”

She brushed his hair back gently, already growing long. Oh, how she hoped he would let it grow a little bit. He looked so cute.

“See? You’ve got two very loyal little companions,” she rubbed his shoulder, then turned her attention to the duo flanking him. “And speaking of you two…”

Luna squinted the dynamic duo on each side of Archie, focusing on Sweetie.

“Did you wash behind your ears this morning?” she asked, tone light but suspicious.

“Of course!” he said quickly.

She tilted her head, unconvinced.

“So if I rub it and smell it… it won’t stink?”

Sweetie’s eyes went wide — guilty wide. He squeezed Archie’s hand tighter, trying to look innocent.

“It might stink a little…” he admitted, voice small.

Her brows rose slowly, and Sweetie gave her his best pout.

“I forgot!” he whined. “But I did wash the rest of me!”

Luna scowled.

“I believe you,” Luna chuckled, tugging him gently forward by the shoulders. “But those ears are your responsibility, mister. And if I sniff a stinky ear again, I’m assigning your brothers to scrub them with soap.”

He gasped dramatically.

“You won’t!”

She fixed him with her most serious, no-nonsense stare.

“Don’t doubt me.”

His eyes widened, and without another word, he bolted off to the bathroom.

“I washed mine!” Sammy declared proudly. “And under my nails!”

He thrust his hands out for inspection, little fingers splayed wide. Luna chuckled as she leaned down to take a look — sure enough, his nails were squeaky clean.

“No stains?” she teased. “And you washed everywhere?”

“Everywhere,” he confirmed with a serious nod, then dropped his voice to a whisper. “Even where people can’t smell me.”

Luna laughed, brushing his cheek with her fingers.

“Good boy,” she said, smiling. Then she exhaled and smoothed her hand down his arm. “Now, try to let your brothers do some of the talking too, alright?”

Sammy nodded — vigorously — but Luna knew that look. Whether or not that advice would stick was anyone’s guess.

He really was the sweetest boy, but like Juno when they were younger, he loved to talk. Nonstop. Endlessly.

And sure, when she was a quiet kid, Luna had loved having someone do all the talking for her too. But the boys had to learn how to speak up for themselves. That would only come with practice — and patience.

“Mama?” a small voice called.

She turned just in time to see Lex padding over, still messy from sleep, his hair sticking out in every direction.

“Are you sure I can’t go with them too?”

Luna softened immediately, crouching slowly to meet him halfway as he came into her arms.

Her poor baby had been so excited about his first day, he barely slept a wink the night before.

“I know you want to, sweetheart,” she said, holding him close. “But your class starts after lunch, remember?”

Lex pouted, little brows tight together.

“But I’m almost seven!” he protested. “Six is almost seven!”

Luna smiled, fingers gentle as they smoothed his sleep-mussed hair.

“I know, love,” she agreed. “But you just turned six, remember?”

He pouted deeper at that, dramatically resting his head on her shoulder like the world had betrayed him. Luna let out a soft breath, pressing a kiss to his temple.

“Why don’t we kiss your brothers goodbye,” she offered, “and wish them a good day?”

He hesitated for a moment, and Luna did her best to straighten up fully.

The pain had eased significantly — with the anti-inflammatories and access to proper medication again, there were even moments when she almost forgot it altogether. She could move more easily, engage with the kids more naturally, and even her arm was regaining some usefulness. Compared to the day they arrived, everything had improved.

Luna nudged Lex toward the boys, and, as expected, he was instantly swarmed with attention — kisses, hugs, and a chorus of goodbyes.

Oh, her sweet baby.

“And you?” Mum came up beside her, laying a hand lightly on Luna’s shoulder. “How’s my baby?”

Luna sighed, her eyes still on the children.

“Content,” she replied quietly. “But nervous for them.”

The interview had aired the night before, though none of them had watched it — not Luna, not Mum, and certainly not the kids. It was better that way. Better if the boys didn’t hear or see any of it.

They’d had breakfast together in their quarters, keeping the morning simple, familiar. Safe.

Still, Luna didn’t know how people would react to the boys. How they'd be treated once they stepped out into the world beyond their door.

Mum rubbed her shoulder gently.

“They’ll be fine,” she said with quiet certainty. “They’re good kids.”

Still, Luna couldn’t help the way her brows drew together as she watched Lex cling to his brothers. The older boys were already straightening up, gathering their schoolbooks and the old, worn bags they'd been given to carry them in.

Then came a knock at the door.

A soldier, most likely.

“Now you, my sweet darling,” Mum turned to Lex, cupping his cheek, “are going back to sleep.”

Luna offered her a small smile and moved toward her boy, adjusting her clothes quickly before answering the door.

When she opened it, Jones stood on the other side, giving a respectful nod.

“Ma’am.”

“School express, I see,” Luna said on an exhale.

He smiled gently — and something about his face tugged at her again, like every time she saw him.

Where had they met before?

She squinted at him, trying to place the memory, but quickly looked away before he noticed.

“Kids,” she called over her shoulder, “Soldier Jones is here.”

The boys straightened up immediately. Jones cleared his throat, his voice quiet.

“Before we go…” he hesitated, then lifted a book from under his arm. “I, uh… I found something.”

Luna turned to him again, both curious and confused.

Something?

“For the little gardener,” he added softly.

Her eyebrows shot up.

Wait...

“For Lex?” she asked, surprised.

Tiny bare footsteps pattered on the floor the second before Lex appeared at her side, as curious as a little cat.

“Me?” he beamed, already breathless with excitement.

Soldier Jones smiled.

“I remembered you were always talking about plants whenever I escorted you kids out,” he said gently. “Thought you’d like this.”

He held out the book, and Lex grabbed it with both hands, squeaking with excitement.

It was a book on the plants and flowers of District 2.

“Thank you!” Lex exclaimed, practically bouncing. “Mama, it’s a book of plants!”

Luna couldn’t help smiling at the joy on his face.

“It is,” she said warmly. Then she looked to the soldier. “Thank you, Soldier Jones.”

“Thank you, Soldier Jones!” Lex repeated even louder, still hugging the book to his chest.

He rushed off, and Luna could hear Mum chuckling in the background.

“Nana, nana, nana, nana! Look, look, look! It’s a book on plants!”

Luna laughed under her breath, watching him go.

Oh, he absolutely wasn’t going back to sleep anytime soon.

“Come on, the rest of you,” she called. “We don’t want to be late.”

She stepped back, offering a small smile to Jones. Her eyes lingered on him for a moment.

His gun was strapped to his back. Whenever he came up to their area and thought no one was watching, he always wore it that way — different from the other soldiers. It was a quiet, but thoughtful gesture, and she noticed.

The boys headed out, and she caught Jones mouthing their names to himself as they passed, clearly trying to remember who was who. Archie, still all tense, slipped to her side and took her hand, squeezing it tightly.

“We’ll drop off the younger ones first,” Jones explained, glancing at the group. “Then the older kids’ classroom is a bit further down.”

He hesitated, his eyes resting on Archie before he looked at Luna.

“In case no one mentioned it, lunchtime’s collective. You’ll be able to see your mother, grandmother, and brothers there — plenty of time to catch up before heading back to class.”

“Well, isn’t that nice?” Luna said, smiling down at Archie and raising his hands to give his knuckles a kiss. “I’ll want to hear everything about your morning.”

He gave her a soft look, still pouting at her.

“It’s gonna be great,” she assured him.

Archie exhaled, and Luna didn’t let go of his hand. She kept it wrapped securely in hers as they walked, trailing just a bit behind the others. The older boys — bless them — seemed to focus more on Sammy and Sweetie up ahead, giving her and Archie a quiet bubble of space.

Sammy and Sweetie, of course, looked far less nervous. If anything, Sammy was practically buzzing with excitement.

“Do you think there’ll be dirt?” he asked, glancing up at Prince. “They might let us dig. The doctor said we’ll do lots of stuff there! Oh, and recess! We have recess in our school!”

“I think they do,” Hunter answered. “We see a bunch of kids outside around the same time every day. Must be recess.”

“Yes!” Sammy pumped a fist in the air and skipped a little as they walked.

She smiled a little, watching him go. Well, at least someone was excited.

The classroom wasn’t far. Luna guessed they’d chosen this location as a sort of middle ground — close enough to their living area to feel safe, but not so close it stifled anything.

When they arrived, the door was already open, and Jones stepped forward, pausing at the threshold.

“This is the classroom for intermediary children,” he said, his tone gentle as he looked at the boys. “You can say your goodbyes and head inside.”

Luna gave Archie’s hand a squeeze, raising it to her lips in a gentle kiss.

“Alright, you three,” she said, patting his shoulder. Archie let her go, stepping aside as she drew the other boys closer too.

She kissed each of their foreheads with care, adjusting their shirt collars one by one, fingers fussing nervously with their hair.

“Okay, now; no getting into trouble,” she reminded them, her eyes flicking between their faces. “Listen to the teachers, stay with your group, and don’t wander off. If anything happens, you tell me, and I’ll try to fix it. Alright? No handling things on your own. And no running to your brothers either.”

They really couldn’t afford to stir up any kind of trouble here.

“Okay?”

“Okay,” all three replied in that drawn-out, slightly nervous chorus.

“Alright then,” she exhaled. “Let’s go in. And I’ll say hello to your teacher. Or… teachers?”

She winced a little. Oh, she really hoped it wasn’t too many people.

Sammy darted into the room without even waiting for her, his excitement carrying him forward like a little whirlwind. Sweetie and Archie, more hesitant, stayed close to her sides as they stepped in together.

It was a small classroom with just two other children already seated and only one instructor, a woman who looked to be in her thirties. Her accent seemed to be from District 2, though Luna had now thought better than to trust that kind of assumption after everything with District 13.

The instructor introduced the boys to the other kids — Marcus and Aurelia, a sibling pair as well — and by the time Luna stepped back, they were all settling in around a round table, quiet but curious.

She lingered in the doorway just a second longer than necessary, watching as Archie cautiously took a seat by Aurelia’s side, and she offered him her book, and Sweetie glanced back at her one more time. Luna gave him a soft wave before stepping fully out, leaving them to settle into the room on their own.

She took a breath, straightened up, and turned to the others. Hunter immediately stepped forward and took her hand, giving it a small tug.

“Already missing them?” he teased, eyebrow raised.

Luna smirked, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

“As much as I’ll miss you.”

It wasn’t a lie, she had gotten used to spending her whole day with them already — and it was good to keep an eye on them.

Hunter made a face at that, though it couldn’t quite hide the little smile tugging at his lips.

Jones led them further down the hall to the next room, where the noise level was a little higher. When they stopped outside the door, it was clear this classroom was larger — busier, too.

Inside, there were seven — maybe eight — other kids already settled, boys and girls ranging from preteens to early teens, clustered in small groups around the room. Two instructors were near the front, both older and with that look and posture of experience, and they wore the standard grey uniforms like the soldier.

Luna shifted, uneasy as at least half the room turned to watch their arrival. The boys ducked behind the doorway almost right away, pulling her along with them. Hunter’s face was all pink when he tried to peek inside again, clearly nervous.

“What?” Prince hissed, glancing at him.

“It’s a big class,” Hunter mumbled, clearly embarrassed.

She took in a deep breath.

Yeah, it was a big class.

Still, she smiled at them and reached out to smooth the front of their shirts, her good hand was still steady, even if her heart wasn’t.

“Alright, you three stay out of trouble,” she reminded them gently. “If you have any problem—”

“We talk to you,” Prince finished for her, his voice soft but certain.

Luna paused, her eyes finding his.

“We got it, Mama,” he said, nodding. “Don’t get into trouble, listen to the instructors, have a good day.”

“And… stick together,” Teddy added quickly.

Both boys turned to look at him, and Teddy’s cheeks flushed a little pink.

“Please,” he mumbled, a bit curled in him self.

She looked at the three of them.

“And stick together,” she repeated, then added with a soft smile. “But try to make friends too.”

It would do them good to spend time with kids their own age.

“Do you want me to come in with you?” she offered gently.

Teddy glanced over at Hunter and Prince, uncertain, but her two oldest boys straightened almost at once.

“We can go in on our own,” Hunter said quickly.

“Yeah, we’re not little kids,” Prince added, chin tilted up.

Luna scowled, just a little. If only they knew how young they still were.

But she nodded, taking a quiet breath.

Alright. It was their choice.

She kissed each of their cheeks in turn, squeezing their hands one by one.

“I’ll see you at lunch,” she promised. “You can tell me all about your day.”

They stepped through the door, and she stayed behind, fingers tightening around the fabric of her overalls as she watched. When the instructors glanced her way, she gave them a small nod.

A few kids approached the boys almost immediately — maybe nudged forward by their parents beforehand — and Luna caught the sight of two girls elbowing each other and exchanging sharp little hisses, eyeing them.

It was oddly comforting.

Teenagers. Just… teens. In a different place, but still kids.

She stepped away — even if, yes, every part of her wanted to linger, watching them like she used to when they were little.

But they weren’t babies anymore. And she couldn’t hover.

So she turned to Jones and let out a long breath.

“Well…” she glanced up at him. “I guess that’s that.”

He gave her a gentle smile and fell into step beside her as they started walking back, subtly shifting his weapon so it pointed away from the classroom and Luna herself.

“I’m sure that wasn’t easy,” he said, voice low and kind.

Luna exhaled, rubbing her fingers over the fabric of her overalls.

“It’s not,” she murmured. “I just hope they don’t get into any trouble. Things are hard enough as it is.”

“From what I’ve seen?” Jones said gently. “They’re good kids. Full of personality, sure, but kind. And with their heads on straight. That counts for a lot.”

She let out another breath, slower this time.

“I’m trying to focus on that,” she agreed quietly.

They walked in silence for a stretch, and Luna found herself sneaking another glance at him.

Jones was… familiar. Tall, dark brown hair, dark eyes… she was tired of turning that over and over in her mind, but she knew him. She had to.

They had to know one another.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

She blinked, caught off guard.

“Your neck,” he clarified. “And your shoulder?”

Luna nodded a little, exhaling.

“It’s alright. Easier, at least. I don’t think I can take off the braces yet, but… it’s bearable.”

“Are you getting medicine?” he asked — quieter this time, and definitely worried.

“Yes,” she said. “Daily.”

Another pause. And again, she glanced at him.

“Have we met?” Luna asked suddenly, the words slipping out before she could stop them.

Jones turned to look at her, brows lifting slightly in surprise. For a moment, he just looked at her, like he wasn’t sure what to say.

“I’m sorry,” she added quickly, her voice softer now. “I just… I have this feeling I’ve met you before.”

Jones seemed to not mind, nodding slowly — almost to himself — as he searched for it mentally.

“Fourth of July,” he said at last. “Year of the 75th Hunger Games.”

Luna stopped mid-step, blinking.

Oh?

Jones had stopped too, looking at her now with something more focused in his gaze, and she quickly caught back up.

That was a long time ago.

“On the seventy-fifth anniversary, as a reminder that even the most devoted among us were not spared the losses brought by rebellion,” Jones recited like it was buried into his memory. “The male and female tributes shall be drawn from the heirs of previous victors. No volunteers will be accepted. In this, we honour the cost of peace — and the legacy left behind.”

Luna breathed in deep.

Heirs of former Victors, yes. She remembered that. Children, and grandchildren. Nephews and nieces if they had no direct descendants — the closest related children between 12 and 18 they could find if needed.

It had been her first Reaping with Prince. They’d dragged her all the way there to stand behind Cato, and her baby had been so fussy the whole time…

And…

She frowned, thinking back to that stupid hot afternoon.

“I was with the adults,” Jones said softly. “My brother was reaped.”

It dawned on her slowly.

Yes. Yes, she remembered.

“Romulus,” she said aloud.

Romulus Jones. Fifteen years old. He had been their male tribute that year. The boy had been so terrified when his name was called that he’d—

She turned to look at Jones. He was already watching her, and there it was — that long, old sadness etched deep into his face, clouding his eyes.

Romulus had run straight into his brother’s arms — just a few steps away from where she’d stood for the reaping moment. The Peacekeepers had pulled him so roughly they tore the poor boy’s clothes, and still, he kept calling out for his brother — Remy.

And Remy had to be held back by three peacekeepers to stop him from chasing after the boy. They dragged him away, kicking and screaming, and Luna had never seen a man cry the way he did — with such desperation, such pain, such unfiltered love.

Jones looked away then, eyes distant, jaw tight as he faced forward.

Cato had called the boys so many names before he joined the tributes. But after he left, when it was just Luna and Prince alone in that big, echoing house, she had held her baby so tightly. Kissed him over and over.

She had even wanted to attend the poor boy’s funeral. But when the news came that he’d died, she had been so devastated she could barely leave her bed. She was grateful Cato was still in the Capitol — because she cried for days, spent days holding her baby, aching for that terrified boy who had only wanted his brother.

She’d been pregnant with Hunter then, just into her second trimester. And all she could think about was the image of her own kid running to her or to Prince and being dragged away the same way.

“I’m sorry,” Luna said quietly, voice thick. “I’m so sorry.”

Jones nodded once, firmly.

“I’m here for him,” he said. “So no one ever has to go through that again.”

She exhaled.

Of course.

Of all the reasons to rebel — and there were many — his was certainly a noble one.

They walked together in silence, the quiet stretching comfortably between them as Jones guided her back toward her quarters. When they reached the door, he offered her a gentle smile.

“I really hope they have a great day, Mrs Hadley,” he said kindly.

“Luna,” she corrected, the word slipping out before she even thought.

Jones glanced down at her, one brow lifting in quiet surprise.

“Just Luna,” she repeated, softer this time.

She was going to shed that surname as soon as she could. There had to be a way.

He exhaled, nodding softly.

“Luna,” he repeated and looked into her eyes with a gentle smile. “Remus.”

Remus and Romulus, like Juno and Jupiter.

“Remus,” she echoed.

He held her eyes a moment longer, his smile deepening, warm and real.

“Just… don’t let them hear you saying that,” he added in a lowered voice. “Security and all.”

Luna nodded sharply.

“Yeah,” she confirmed, soft. “Makes sense.”

They stood there together for a bit of time, and he cleared his throat.

“I’ll come pick you all up for lunch,” he said, voice firm but kind. “We’re still looking for a proper chair for the little boy and the crib for the baby, but I’ll bring them over as soon as they’re in our possession.”

“Of course,” she nodded. “Thank you.”

He dipped his head in a stiff but respectful nod.

“Until later, Luna.”

“Have a nice day, Remus,” she replied softly.

He smiled — and there was something so deeply sweet in the way his whole posture softened as he walked away. Not like a soldier.

Just… a man.

Just a man.

She went back to their quarters feeling a little lighter — though sad, too, in a quiet, settled way.

Lex was curled up on his little bed, clutching his new book tightly to his chest. Luna’s heart ached as she sat beside him, brushing his hair back gently. The image from so many years ago came rushing back — a scared boy being pulled from his brother’s arms, screaming his name.

Remus Jones had become a rebel so her sons wouldn’t have to live what he had lived.

And that mattered more than she could put into words.

Their morning was strangely quiet — which was absolutely new since… everything.

It was weird.

It wasn’t silent, of course. With Lex, Blue, Dash, and Juni all under one roof, quiet was relative. But still, there was something about the hush that felt almost unfamiliar.

When lunchtime came around, the true chaos began: it was almost impossible to keep Lex in the outfit he was supposed to wear to go down.

“But I want to wear my nice shirt!” he insisted, holding it up like it was made of pure gold.

Luna knelt in front of him carefully, brushing back his hair.

“You will, sweetheart,” she told him. “But first, we’ll eat.”

Lex frowned, hugging the shirt tightly to his chest.

“But how will I go to class wearing it if I’m not already wearing it?”

She smiled gently, smoothing his hair. Oh, her sweet boy.

“We’ll come back after lunch and put it on. That way, if you drop food on it, it won’t get stained.”

Lex considered it very seriously. Then, at last, he nodded, satisfied with the logic.

“Okay. But only because it’s a special shirt.”

Luna exhaled. Well, that was easier than expected. If it were Blue, they’d still be negotiating by dinnertime.

She kissed his forehead and stood, stretching her back a little.

Juni was already cooing at Mum, while Dash was upside down in a chair he had no business climbing while Blue read his book on his bed.

“Dash, baby, come down,” she called, sighing. “You’re going to fall.”

“No!” Dash barked, standing tall on the chair like a tiny daredevil.

Luna pinched the bridge of her nose and glanced around his spot.

No sharp corners. Not too far from the ground. He looked like he was just about to jump.

“Dash,” she warned, voice firm. “If you jump, you’ll bang your knee or elbow, and I’ll have to put the chair away.”

“No!” he shot back, louder.

Terrible twos. Her ninth round of them.

Mum stood up, Juni in her arms, already giving Dash the look.

“Dash,” she started.

“No, no,” Luna interrupted, waving a hand. “Sammy was just like that. Let him fall.”

From her math, the worst that could happen was a bit of a bruise, and some crying.

Mum raised her eyebrows, clearly amused.

“Well, aren’t you the one who used to run out screaming if Prince or Hunter scraped a knee in the garden?”

Luna snorted.

“That was eight kids ago.”

Mum chuckled.

Luna wasn’t even looking anymore when she heard it — a squeak, and then… thump.

Three… two…

“Mama!” Dash wailed, the tears already coming.

Luna sighed softly as she turned, and there he was: already standing, rubbing his little butt.

Well, she thought it’d be his knee, but the booty was pretty close.

She walked over and knelt in front of him, and Dash threw himself into her arms without hesitation.

“What did I tell you?” she whispered, rubbing gentle circles on his little back.

Dash cried into her neck with every ounce of strength in his tiny body — sniffling, hiccuping, letting the betrayal of gravity wash over him.

“Mama!” he sobbed again.

She adjusted him in her arms, rocking slightly, pressing kisses to his temple.

“Oh, my poor baby,” she cooed softly. “I know. I know.”

Luna held a little groan as she stood, rocking him.

“That’s why we don’t jump from chairs,” she reminded him gently. “It hurts our butts.”

Dash cried harder at that, and Luna could see Mum biting her lip, clearly trying not to laugh as she watched them.

Luna rocked him a little more, stroking his back.

“Next time you listen, hmm?”

Dash didn’t answer — just clung tighter, sniffling like the world had betrayed him.

She made a mental note to move the chair somewhere Dash couldn’t climb when her good arm was free.

Luna rocked him gently, Dash still sniffling against her, and Mum looked far too amused as she set Juni down and went to help Lex shower for lunch and then his class. Luna shifted, reaching out to pet Blue’s soft hair where he sat curled up with his book, completely absorbed.

“Honey,” she called softly. “Blue, eyes on me.”

He hesitated, then carefully placed his finger on a paragraph to mark his place before looking up at her.

“Lex is showering, and we’ll leave for lunch in ten minutes,” she said clearly. “I’ll remind you again when he’s out.”

“Lunch?” he echoed, his big eyes blinking slowly.

Luna nodded.

“Remember how I’ve been telling you for a few days that we’re going to start having lunch downstairs?”

It had been a whole process, easing Blue into the new routine ever since the preparations for the interview began. Carefully, gently, step by step.

“It’ll be a bigger table,” she continued. “And we’re going to eat with Lyme. Okay?”

Blue’s honey-brown eyes searched her face, quiet and serious as ever.

“Okay,” he said slowly. “Ten minutes?”

“Ten minutes,” Luna confirmed. “Soldier Jones will walk us down.”

Blue considered that with his eyes still fixed on her.

“I like Soldier Jones,” he said finally. “He is nice.”

Luna smiled, warmth swelling in her chest.

“He is,” she agreed.

Ten minutes later, at last, they were walking out the door, with Soldier Jones — Remus — guiding them.

Did it take a little extra time to get Lex to set down his new garden book, along with a solemn promise that no, Blue was not going to take it the moment he left it behind?

Yes.

But hunger won the battle, and they were off to lunch, the boys already eager enough that obeying instructions was the easiest solution in the world.

The older kids and Lyme had already claimed a large table by the time they arrived, and Prince, Hunter, and Ted looked suspiciously sweaty when she spotted them.

Those practical lessons must have started early.

“Luna,” Lyme greeted her, giving her a smile that was half tense and half relieved. “It’s good to see you.”

After that whole interview mess? Yeah, it was good to put that behind them.

“Lyme,” she greeted back. “Thank you for joining us.”

“My pleasure.”

Mum was already settling Dash into a worn-looking highchair tucked at the end of the table, taking the seat beside him, while Luna set Juni’s pram carefully at her side and locked the wheels with her foot. Lex and Blue clambered up between their brothers without much prompting.

Juni seemed to realise she was somewhere new — her wide little eyes taking in the room — and Luna couldn’t help melting when Ted hurried over, grinning as he crouched beside the pram.

“Hi, Juni,” he cooed.

She kicked her little feet excitedly, opening a big gummy smile.

“Hi,” Ted laughed, reaching to tickle her belly. “Did you miss me?”

Juni gurgled even louder, reaching for him, wrapping her tiny hand around his finger. Ted chuckled, leaning in to press a kiss to her little belly.

“Hello, pretty girl,” he cooed.

Luna’s attention shifted as Remus spoke from behind her, his voice polite but warm.

“I’ll leave you kids to it,” he said. “I hope lunch is great.”

She looked up, offering him a smile, and he nodded gently before straightening into his usual, stiffer posture — all discipline again.

But before he could take a step away, Lex’s small voice piped up across the table, clear and earnest:

“Can you eat with us?”

Luna turned to her boy, just as everyone else did — even Remus seemed caught off guard.

“Please?” Lex asked again, his big blue eyes locked onto him with all the quiet hope in the world.

Oh, it ached Luna’s heart. She braced herself for the no she was certain would come, already preparing to gather Lex into her arms when he cried about it.

For a moment, there was only silence.

When Luna glanced at Remus, she found him looking toward Lyme, his face carefully blank.

Lyme's neck was stiff as she glanced from Lex to Luna, and then back to Remus.

The nod she gave him was tiny — barely a flicker — but Luna caught it. And she saw the way Remus’s shoulders eased the slightest bit, the tension bleeding out.

“Of course, little gardener,” he said at last, his voice warm. “Let me just grab a chair.”

Lex immediately set about bossing everyone around, making them shuffle and scoot so Remus could place his chair right between him and Prince.

Prince, for his part, was glaring the entire time — but, to his credit, he didn’t say a word about it.

Luna smiled a little to herself as she settled Juni more securely by her side. And around, the realisation only now dawning on her that she had no idea how the food distribution worked.

All this time, it had just… appeared, delivered straight to their quarters.

Were they supposed to line up? Was someone bringing it?

Before she could speak up, Lyme did so, almost as if she'd plucked the thought from her mind.

“We should go get the food before you sit,” Lyme said, standing as Remus put his chair down. “The table’s secured now. The older children can come with us,” she looked at the boys, and then at Luna. “And I can bring yours back for you as well.”

She exhaled, relief softening her shoulders.

“Thank you.”

Lyme nodded, her eyes warm, as Remus — efficient as ever — locked his gun and set it securely at his side.

“I’ll get your food too,” Lyme added, turning to Mum with a respectful incline of her head. “We’ll be back soon. Morning students, follow me, please?”

The boys stood awkwardly, exhaling looks, but following after her while Luna stayed back with the youngest four and Mum, who already had a steadying hand on Lex’s shoulder to keep him from getting too antsy.

“It’s alright, they’ll be back in a minute.”

Luna watched them make their way, surprised to find several eyes either following them or suddenly turning to look at her.

She straightened her back, looking away, her fingers twitching to fidget with the fabric of her overalls. She scratched at the seams with her nails, trying to ground hersel, staring at the table.

Well, it didn’t really matter where her eyes were, she could feel every single pair of eyes on her and the kids as they sat and waited, keeping her eyes on the table as something buzzed under her skin, uncomfortable.

Luna flinched when someone moved too close, her whole body tensing — only to find Lyme standing there, tray in hand, frozen mid-motion.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Luna exhaled sharply, forcing a tight smile as she shook her head.

“It’s fine,” she said quickly, her voice a little too high. “Just... a little jumpy today.”

Every day.

Lyme gave her a short nod, knowing look but didn’t push. She simply set the tray down gently in front of her, careful not to invade her space again.

The meal was as organized as always — closed portions labelled with her name, the clear lids foggy from the warmth inside.

Luna waited until all the boys were seated and settled before touching hers.

Remus quietly brought over Blue and Lex’s trays, setting them down in front of the boys with a gentleness that didn’t match his sharp uniform or role. When he finally sat, Lex beamed, looking downright thrilled to have him sitting right beside him.

The smell of the food was practically the same as always — lentils again, with grains and vegetables she couldn’t quite identify.

But something else lingered in the air. Something different.

When she looked up, she caught Lex, Hunter, and Sweetie all subtly leaning into Remus’ plate, eyes wide and hopeful.

Ted, Prince, and Sweetie were not much better, trying — and failing — to sneak glances at it.

“Boys,” Luna called firmly.

All their heads snapped toward her at once.

“He has chicken!” Hunter whispered, sounding genuinely shocked.

Luna gave him a pointed look.

“We do not eye other people’s plates,” she reminded them.

Well, her own stomach gave an excited little jump, anyway.

They hadn’t had meat once since the day they’d arrived.

Luna had held out hope it would show up eventually — any meat, really — but so far, nothing.

All their protein came from vegetables, grains, and the occasional sad little bean. Not even eggs.

She kept her eyes firmly on her own plate — not just because it would be rude to stare, but because she would really rather not think about what she wasn’t having.

“Eat your food,” she told the boys, tapping on the table. “Soldier Jones is part of security. He needs the extra protein.”

“I can spare some pieces,” Remus offered calmly. “It’s fine.”

Oh, God.

“You don’t have to,” Luna rushed to say, her words tumbling out. “We have perfectly fulfilling food.”

“I want chicken,” Blue spoke up immediately, his voice bright with hope.

“Me too!” Lex chimed in, sitting up straighter.

“I want chicken!” Dash echoed, kicking his little feet. “Can I have chicken?”

Luna grimaced, feeling the headache this would become already poking the back of her mind.

“Boys, please.”

“I’ll be right back,” Lyme said suddenly, stepping away with her tray.

“It’s Soldier Jones’ food,” Luna reminded them, exasperated.

But Remus only gave her a soft, steady look.

“It’s fine, really,” he said gently. “Just a piece for everyone — it’s not a sacrifice.”

And without making a fuss, he simply cut the meat, setting small strips onto the boys’ plates with an ease that made it clear he didn’t mind that at all.

He went around the table, placing pieces of chicken not only on the boys' plates, but even on her own, and on her mother’s as well. The boys attacked their food so quickly that it left her momentarily stunned.

“Remus,” she said, his name slipping out before she could stop it.

He looked at her, a soft, easy smile on his face.

“Just once,” he said, his tone casual, like it was no big deal. “It’s no problem.”

He settled back into his chair, a lone shy piece of chicken on his own plate. Without a second thought, he ate it, then moved on to his grain portion as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

Luna stared at the chicken on her plate, feeling a mix of gratitude and discomfort well up in her chest. Her thoughts were interrupted when Lyme returned, making rounds around the table. She placed another slice of chicken on Luna's plate before sitting down, offering the same to Remus with a nod.

Luna stared at her for a moment, but it was her mother’s shocked expression that caught Lyme’s attention.

“I asked for an extra portion for myself,” Lyme said simply, her voice steady and matter-of-fact. “I have privileges.”

Yes, she had privileges. But an extra portion in a facility that controlled food so close that only very specific people beyond security got chicken didn’t seem exactly like something someone could just have.

Mum looked back at her plate, slowly starting to eat. It took Luna a moment to comply, seeing Dash grabbing his slice with his very hand, biting on it like a starved animal, and she didn't even have the soul to remind him to use his spoon.

Finally, she started to eat and it was honestly so strange to feel the texture of the meat in her mouth after what felt like months — when it was just ten days.

She left the last bite for last, to remember it.

There was a bell to announce that lunchtime was over, and the boys said goodbye quickly, going together to their classrooms, and Lyme returned to her duties, leaving Luna and Loba to take the kids up, and Lex was jumping and skipping and squealing to go change into ‘class clothes’.

Mum went in with the kids inside, leaving Luna with Remus, and she couldn’t even wait for the door to close before speaking up.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she said, firmly. “The chicken.”

Remus looked at her with a little easy smile.

“It’s fine,” he said quickly.

“No,” Luna pushed, arms crossing. “It’s rationed. We’re on weighed portions, Remus. So are you. They’re stretching everything.”

He needed that food, he needed that protein.

Remus’s smile didn’t waver, but there was something gentler in the way he tilted his head at her — almost like he’d expected the scolding and welcomed it anyway.

“I’m not collapsing from hunger,” he said lightly. “And I’m not one of nine growing boys who miss chicken like it’s a gift from the skies and have gone through a hell of a week.”

“That’s not the point,” Luna pressed, arms crossed tightly. “They’re children. You’re security. You’re on your feet all day, you train, you — Remus, you need that food.”

He gave a small shrug, eyes warm but unreadable.

“I need a lot of things. One less piece of chicken doesn’t break me. But it made them happy.”

Luna tightened her teeth. Was he always this stubborn?

Yes, it was very kind. It was also very stupid.

“They’re going to expect it now,” she said, voice quieter.

“Then they’ll be disappointed tomorrow,” he said, not unkindly. “But for today, they were happy.”

Luna scowled — but the warmth blooming in her chest betrayed her.

The boys had been through a lot. So had she.

“It was very kind of you,” she said softly. “Thank you.”

Remus’s smile didn’t change.

“You’re welcome,” he replied simply. “It was nice to see how happy they were. Even the older boys smiled at me.”

That made her chuckle, the tension in her arms loosening.

“That is a victory,” Luna agreed, slowly uncrossing them.

He shifted, slipping his weapon behind his back in a motion that made him seem suddenly more at ease. Her eyes followed him, softer now.

“Lex loved the book,” she added. “So I think you might be on track to becoming his favourite soldier.”

Maybe even his favourite adult man, she thought, though she didn’t say it. Remus might be the only decent one Lex had ever known.

His smile widened at that.

“That’s great,” he said. “It was Remulus’s book, actually.”

That made her pause, surprised. She looked up at him, caught off guard.

“He loved gardening,” Remus explained, serious, though the corners of his mouth lifted faintly. “And…”

He hesitated. She saw the moment he swallowed hard, collecting himself.

“When we were boys, he had that same light blonde hair,” he murmured. “Bowl cut and all. Our mum used to do it in the kitchen.”

Luna chuckled. Did Lex have a proper bowl cut? No, not really.

Cato had always insisted the boys wear their hair just like his — sharp, uniform, controlled.

But it was growing out now, softer, longer. She’d managed to delay the last few haircuts so much that it was starting to fall in that awkward, charming way that could be mistaken for a bowl cut.

She glanced up at Remus again.

“I thought the book would be more useful getting loved by Lex than hiding in my things,” he said finally, low and thoughtful.

Luna’s chest ached gently at that.

“It will be,” she agreed. “He was holding it tight when he went back to sleep this morning. Insisted I made sure no one will touch it while he is away.

Remus’s soft laugh was barely audible, but it reached her just the same.

Their moment, light and quiet, broke as the door creaked open and Lex stepped out, chest puffed with pride in his freshly pressed clothes. He was dressed in the outfit he’d been eager to show off all morning: a crisp white shirt tucked neatly into his long navy shorts, new socks pulled high, and his shiny shoes gleaming with effort.

“Mama, Soldier Jones, I’m ready!” he announced, practically vibrating with excitement.

Luna smiled, hand going to her chest.

“Oh, look at this handsome student, Soldier Jones!” she exclaimed.

Remus gave a soft whistle of approval.

“Sharp enough to lead the whole unit, little gardener.”

Lex beamed, practically glowing.

“And I almost didn’t need Nana’s help to dress up!”

Luna smiled, trying not to laugh at his words. Mum had probably done most of the work after some talking of convincing him it would make him look his best.

“Let me see,” she said, crouching down in front of him to get a full look. “Oh, look at my handsome boy!”

Lex grinned, puffing out his chest as she straightened his shirt collar. His hair had clearly been brushed — probably with some grumbling — but it was in place.

“And let me see those teeth?” she asked with mock seriousness.

He opened his mouth in a huge grin, baring his teeth proudly.

“Blow on my face,” she whispered playfully.

He giggled and did as told, and she inhaled dramatically.

“Mmm! What nice minty breath!” she declared, grinning as she took his little hands in hers, lifting them up to kiss his palms. “And soapy little hands. All clean!”

Lex beamed, eyes sparkling with delight, and Luna supported herself on the wall to stand fully – though the ache she expected on her back had eased out with the medicine.

“I clean up very well, Mama,” Lex affirmed as if it was obvious. “I wash my hands, brush my teeth, and clean behind my ears.”

Remus gave a low chuckle, clearly amused.

“Well done,” he said warmly. “That’ll make you grow into a strong and handsome man.”

Luna reached out her hand, still smiling, and Lex grabbed it eagerly, bouncing on his feet as if he could barely wait another second.

“Now let’s go, Mama!” he urged, tugging her along. “We don’t want to be late!”

“Alright, alright,” Luna sighed with a smile, glancing up at Remus with a playful smirk. “We shall go, my little gentleman. Soldier Jones, would you care to lead the way?”

Remus gave a mock formal nod, voice dry with humour.

“We shall go — before he decides to find the classroom on his own.”

Lex giggled, gripping her hand tighter as they began to walk.

The classroom wasn’t far, tucked in the same wing as the others, but set slightly apart. When they reached the door, Luna took in the effort someone had clearly made to brighten the space. There were paper flower cutouts all around, drawings taped to the grey walls, and simple, hand-made decorations that softened the hard edges of the room.

Someone had tried — really tried — to make the space feel less like a concrete box and more like something soft, familiar. Safe.

Lex’s eyes lit up at the sight.

“There’s flowers!” he whispered excitedly, pointing with his free hand. “Just like the book!”

Luna smiled and squeezed his small fingers gently.

“Maybe you can draw some of your own today,” she offered him softly.

Remus stood just behind them, watching quietly, and when Lex turned to him, he nodded solemnly.

“I’ll be excited to see,” he told him.

Lex puffed up with pride, glowing.

“Mama, what are your favourite flowers?” Lex asked, eyes wide with excitement as he looked up at her.

Luna smiled softly at him, thinking about the question.

She’d never thought much about flowers — never received them as gifts, never planted any. Most of the names blurred together in her mind. Still, after a moment, one did come to her.

“Beardtongues,” she told him, at last. “The tall white kind.”

Lex frowned slightly, clearly trying to picture them. The way his brow furrowed made her heart squeeze.

Oh, he wanted to draw them for her!

Luna reached out, brushing her fingers through his soft hair, touched by the sweetness of it all.

“And daisies,” she added quickly, smiling. “The kind with yellow petals.”

Lex lit up again, clearly happy.

“And you, Soldier Jones?” Lex turned to him, eyes bright with curiosity.

Remus’s smile was gentle and genuine, something soft blooming in his expression.

“Geraniums, little gardener,” he said warmly. “You know those small flowers with five petals that grow in bushes?”

Lex nodded eagerly, already picturing them.

“They’re the most beautiful,” Remus said, his voice full of quiet conviction. “I love them.”

Her little boy nodded eagerly, clearly already full of ideas, and Luna glanced into the room — just in time to catch the teacher walking over with a warm smile.

“Oh, you must be the Hadleys!” the woman said brightly, stepping to the door.

Luna instinctively straightened, the comfort of the previous moment slipping from her shoulders.

“I’m Julia,” the teacher introduced herself, beaming down at Lex. “And you must be little Alexander.”

Lex puffed up with pride, standing tall and serious.

“Aren’t you punctual?” Julia laughed gently, before turning her attention to Luna. “And you’re Luna.”

Luna swallowed down, clenching her hand on her overalls as Julia looked at her as if she had known her their whole lives.

“Yes. Nice to meet you,” she managed.

“I saw your interview,” Julia added. “It was very moving.”

Luna breathed in deep.

Of course.

“Thank you,” she mumbled.

Julia glanced around the hallway before speaking again.

“I was told you were unsure about bringing the second boy,” she said gently.

Luna straightened up a bit more, reaching for Lex and running a hand down his hair, trying to soothe herself.

“It’s just Lex for this class,” she said, trying to keep her voice firm. “I’ll be handling the younger children’s education myself.”

Julia nodded slowly, though Luna could see the disappointment in her eyes.

“Well,” she said, recovering her warm tone, “Lex is our very first arrival — why don’t we come in, and I can show you around the classroom while we wait for the others?”

“Okay,” Lex confirmed.

He turned to look at Luna, and she gave him her best smile.

“Goodbye, mama,” he told her, serious. “I have class now.”

She chuckled a little bit.

“Goodbye, baby. Have fun, and behave.”

Lex wrapped his small arms tightly around her, holding on. She expected a quick hug, but he lingered, clinging as Luna gently rubbed his back.

“You’ll do great,” she whispered to him.

There was a little bit of a wait, and he stepped back from her, straightening his back and going to his new teacher, both walking in together.

Just before crossing the threshold, he turned to look back — and Luna waved at him, her heart squeezing in her chest as she did.

She lingered a moment longer, watching through the doorway as he explored the room, poking curiously at what he could, answering his teacher’s questions.

Then a voice startled her from behind.

“Oh, you poor thing.”

Luna turned instinctively, her whole body twisting rather than just her neck, which twinged painfully in the brace.

A woman — likely in her late fifties or sixties — had come up behind her and just grabbed her by the shoulders, her touch abrupt and overly familiar.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, dear,” the woman gasped, her voice softening into an overly sweet tone, like she was speaking to a child. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. Are you alright?”

Luna tried not to tense, though her body instinctively recoiled, squirming backwards to try to create space between them.

“Yes,” she mumbled, her voice tight as she tried to slip out of the woman’s grasp.

But the woman’s hands didn’t retreat — one simply slid down to squeeze Luna’s good hand, the contact oddly firm and lingering.

“Well, don’t you look gaunt,” she said, focusing on Luna’s face with concern. “I’m sure it hasn’t been easy.”

Luna could only stare at her, stunned, a thousand answers dying behind her tongue as it soured with the woman’s pity.

“I’m Cornelia,” the woman said with a bright, unapologetic smile as she finally stepped back. “I usually bring the children.”

Luna forced herself to look away from her, noticing the three kids who must have slipped into the room while she was distracted. Two brown haired boys, one red-haired one.

“My niece is very involved here,” Cornelia went on, not bothering to pause long enough for Luna to absorb anything. “She needed someone to watch her boys, so I moved in. They’ve become fast friends with that little redheaded boy — so now I just bring them all to class together.”

Luna looked back at her, eyes still wide with lingering shock.

“That’s… helpful of you,” she mumbled, catching the faint sound of Lex giggling from inside the classroom.

At a different time, she would have turned and felt more at ease at hearing it, but at the moment, it did nothing but make her more tense as Cornelia peered into the classroom.

“He’s adorable!” she cooed. “If you ever need someone to keep an eye on him — or the others — I’m always around.”

No, she would not be taking her up on that offer. Absolutely not.

But before Luna could take a step back, Cornelia reached for her hand again, trapping it between both of hers, and Luna had to fight the instinct to yank it away.

“I’m also quite experienced with… exceptional children,” Cornelia added, her voice syrupy sweet, as if it were a compliment. “So if any of them are like you, I promise — it’s no trouble at all.”

Luna’s jaw clenched so hard it tugged at the muscles in her neck brace. She stared at the woman’s face, her tongue bittering.

No. Fuck, no.

“Thank you,” she said, voice flat as she pulled her hand free, stiffly. “But I am perfectly capable and available to care for my own children.”

Cornelia’s smile wavered for the first time.

“Mrs Hadley,” Remus called from his spot, his voice low. “We should go.”

She stepped away from Cornelia quickly, closing the distance to Remus, who gave the woman a short glance.

“Ma’am,” he said, nodding politely as he shifted his weapon in front of him.

Luna followed as he started down the hall, her body so tense she felt like her limbs might snap like twigs just by moving them.

They walked quietly the way until she was the one who broke the sound.

“I see people have enjoyed the interview,” she mumbled.

He inhaled soundingly.

“It was… strong,” he said quietly.

Luna paused, turning her body to look at him.

“You’ve seen it.”

Remus paused, turning and looking at her.

“I…” he began, then gave a resigned pause. “Everyone did. It played everywhere.”

It shouldn’t have surprised her.

Still, the same old feeling settled heavily in her belly, making her throat feel tight.

Remus stepped back toward her, his gaze gentle.

“It… clarified a lot of things,” he told her, maybe as an attempt to ease things. “It endeared you to people, I think. In a new way.”

She exhaled, fingers fidgeting against the worn denim of her overalls, and swallowed hard as she squared her shoulders.

“I can imagine it’s not pleasant to be known like that,” he added, voice lower. “My family hated it too.”

Luna let out a breath and started walking again, falling in step beside him.

“It isn’t,” she murmured.

He looked at her with something in his eyes she couldn’t quite read, like he wanted to say something but wasn’t able to.

They stayed quiet as they made the way to her quarters again, and Lyme was just coming from the other side when they made it to the corridor.

“Luna,” she greeted. “Soldier Jones.”

“Commander,” he greeted back.

“Lyme,” Luna mumbled.

She received a small smile back.

“This is a quick visit,” she explained right away. “I need to share some updates with you and Loba — plans for the next few days.”

Luna tensed slightly but stepped forward, opening the door and giving them room to enter just as Mum adjusted Dash’s covers, tucking him in bed.

“Lyme,” she greeted softly. “Soldier Jones.”

He nodded politely to her.

“Mrs Elletra.”  

“Loba,” Lyme exhaled.

“Is everything alright?”

Luna walked back to her, and Mum’s hands were right on hers quickly.

“Yes,” Lyme said, nodding. “More than alright, actually. As we hoped, the interview has begun circulating — and it’s having the impact we needed.”

She turned to Luna, offering a warm, genuine smile.

“Thank you again. Truly.”

Luna just gave her a stiff nod, and Lyme’s expression brightened a little more.

“And I believe you’ll all be glad to hear that the conditions of your stay have changed. You’re now free to move about as you wish — no need to be escorted by a soldier anymore. You can walk the grounds, visit the gardens, the yard, figure out the place... mingle with the others. We believe the previous... tensions surrounding your family have been eased. Your story helped with that, Luna.”

Luna glanced at Remus.

Was this what he had seemed hesitant to say?

“That is good,” Mum said gently, drawing Luna’s gaze back.

“Yeah,” she echoed. “It’ll be good for the kids.”

“And for you,” Lyme added, kind. “It can’t be easy, being cooped up in here all day.”

Luna gave a small nod.

No, it wasn’t.

But the idea of wandering into crowds, of mingling with strangers, didn’t feel much better.

“There’s a small map of the facility available at the cafeteria,” Lyme continued. “You’ll also find amenities like the laundry room. The garden is still under construction, but we could use extra hands. Of course, you’re welcome to join in on any of the communal activities. We’re always looking for cooks, gardeners… cleaners.”

So the goal was to make them work.

Luna rubbed her fingers along the seam of her overalls, denim rough beneath her touch. When her eyes met Remus’s, his expression was gentle — like he understood exactly what was going through her mind.

People.

She would have to see and meet people.

“And socialising, of course,” Lyme added. “I know you’re usually occupied with the children.”

“Oh, this is the calmest moment we’ve had since arriving,” Mum chuckled, glancing back at Dash and Blue. “And only because Dash is sleeping and Blue is reading. They’ll be tearing through the place soon enough.”

She smiled, and Remus offered one in return.

“I’m sure he’ll enjoy getting out,” he said. “The classes usually have recess around four. They play together then.”

Luna exhaled slowly.

Yes — it would be good for Blue and Dash to spend more time outside. They needed the air, the space, the sense of something beyond these walls.

Still, the knot in her stomach twisted tighter. The thought of walking around without a soldier nearby didn’t bring relief — it made her want to groan.

If with Remus there, that woman had felt entitled to grab her, what would stop other people?

Why did people have such an obsession with touching?

Luna didn’t get it. Not in the slightest. Why touch a stranger?

But… yeah. They went to the yard after picking up Lex, because the boys deserved to run and laugh and burn some of that endless energy somewhere. She wouldn’t take that from them. They needed joy where they could get it.

And thus began her peril.

Because somehow — for some reason — people thought it was their sacred duty to say hi. Hello. How are you?

They sat by her side or stood in front of her or simply came to her with wide eyes and bright voices like she was an old friend, or worse, some kind of inspiration, and not a woman just trying to keep her toddler from eating dirt.

Every smile she had to force herself into giving them, every hand on her arm, every casual ‘I saw your interview’ she heard just made her want to melt into the pavement from exhaustion. This whole thing, the whole performing sociability was exhausting.

Even Blue was hating it.

“No,” he whined from the shade when someone tried to reach for him. “No touching me!”

The woman — she didn’t remember her name anymore — threw him a confused look, but Blue just ran to Luna, and she wrapped her arm around him quickly.

“I don’t like it,” he protested.

She exhaled, rubbing his little back.

“Yeah, neither do I,” she mumbled.

It took time to adapt to the new routine. Not for most of the boys — they dove into it with the enthusiasm only children could muster — but for Luna!

After ten days of being mostly on their own, cocooned in privacy, she’d gotten used to it. Blue had gotten used to not having to see anyone but family.

Juni… Juni didn’t care about anything, really. As long as she could lounge outside of her carrier-made-bed, she was content.

The other kids had all adapted at different speeds. By day four, Dash had mastered his new afternoon schedule, waking up like clockwork just in time to run headlong into recess like he’d just spent his whole day in class.

Luna was just grateful that, at some point, people started realising Mum was the social one in the family and mostly directed their attempts of conversation to her instead.

She smiled down at Juni, who let out a soft giggle, all gums and sunshine. Lifting her baby girl up, Luna rubbed her nose against the chubby belly and blew a raspberry, earning more giggles and delighted gurgles in return.

Her arm was out of the sling for a little while.

Should it be?

Probably not. Not for more than a few minutes at a time. She was trying to be careful, she really was.

But she also had ten children, and among them a near-newborn, a toddler, and a very clingy four-year-old. All three who adored being carried — by her, specifically.

So yes. She needed two arms.

As she lowered Juni back into her lap, the baby’s tiny fingers latched into Luna’s hair with surprising strength, tugging enthusiastically.

Luna winced.

Oh no.

Not this phase again.

She tried to adjust her hold, but balancing Juni was a challenge with the neck brace and her bad shoulder. Luna couldn’t even tilt her head to look down properly.

“Mum?” she called out, tentative.

She couldn’t stand like this. Not without dropping something — or someone.

“Oh, that…” came a voice, familiar and soft with amusement. “Mustn’t be comfortable.”

Luna lifted Juni slightly to peer upward. Remus was standing beside her.

He wasn’t in uniform today — just one of those grey civilian suits everyone working in the facility seemed to wear as uniform instead. Was it his day off?

“Alright, little girl,” he murmured to Juni, crouching slightly. “Let’s not break your mother’s neck, shall we?”

His fingers brushed her scalp gently, prying Juni’s tight little hands from her hair with careful patience.

“There, there,” he soothed. “You can hold mine instead.”

Luna stayed quiet through the rescue, wincing slightly at the tug of hair breaking loose.

She had a lot of it. It would survive.

“Thank you,” she mumbled as she lowered Juniper back into her arms, unable to keep herself from smiling.

As the baby let go of Remus’s fingers, Luna immediately moved to check her tiny hands, carefully fishing through them for any stray hairs. One wrapped strand could tighten fast and cut off circulation — Sweetie had gone through that once, and she wasn’t eager to repeat the scare.

“It was no trouble,” Remus said with a soft smile. “She looks very… grab-happy.”

Luna chuckled, shifting Juniper carefully as her shoulder started to ache — a sharp and already radiating pain that made her wince. She had raised it far more than she should.

“They all go through that phase,” she told him, adjusting her hold again. “If you ever want any of your own, just be warned: you’ll spend a year with someone constantly yanking your hair for no reason at all.”

She tried to tilt back and push her hair over her shoulders, but with the neck brace and limited arm movement, it was near impossible. When she looked at Remus again, she caught the way he was watching Juni — his expression tender, but touched by something sadder.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he told her in a soft voice. “How’s the shoulder?”

Her face burned in embarrassment, and Juni grabbed her hair again, though this time it was thankfully away from her roots.

“Don’t tell my mum,” she requested, wincing. “Or Lyme. Or the doctor.”

He shook his head, clearly amused by her.

“I won’t,” he promised. “I can hold her if you want to push your hair out of the way and get your arm back in the sling before they notice.”

Luna chuckled, instinctively searching for a reason to refuse. Her mind usually worked fast in moments like this — listing excuses, grasping at doubt, mistrustful. But this time, none came. No reason. No warning bell

She… trusted him just fine.

So, Luna shifted Juni carefully to his arm.

“Watch the neck,” she warned. “She can be heavy and likes to throw herself back.”

But Remus adjusted like someone who had done it a thousand times. He cradled her with the ease of a man who lived with a baby in his arms.

And to his credit, Juni just let him.

The second she registered the transfer, her big eyes went wide with curiosity. She focused right in on his face like it was the most interesting thing she had ever seen, and her small hands rose up to reach for it, fingers open and exploratory.

Remus just opened a smile as he moved her a little closer, balancing her and letting out a soft chuckle when she reached for his beard, trying to grab it, but his hairs were quite short — to his luck, honestly.

Luna slipped her arm back into the sling quickly, adjusting the straps while watching him smile down at her baby.

“I guess you can’t get a good grip, little Juniper,” he murmured to her gently, his voice light.

He kissed the air at her and blew a soft raspberry.

Juni let out a delighted squeal and grabbed his lips instead, squishing them with her small fingers. He didn’t flinch — just grinned through the squish and let her explore, perfectly content.

“Well,” he mumbled through her grip, “you’re certainly strong for someone so small.”

Juni giggled like it was the funniest thing in the world, her fingers still on his mouth, like she was fascinated by the way it moved under her palm.

Luna wasn’t even blinking as she watched them.

There was something in how easily he just held her daughter — how unbothered he was by the grabbing, the drool, and the complete lack of boundaries that came with babies.

Most people flinched or stiffened or acted awkward.

Not Remus.

“She likes you,” she mumbled without thinking.

Remus glanced at her, his lips still slightly squished by Juni’s hand. But he was smiling anyway.

“I like her too.”

Luna’s heart squeezed in her chest, tight and full of something she couldn’t even describe.

He blew gently against her palm again, and Juniper erupted into giggles, kicking her little legs in delight.

Finally, Luna managed to sweep her hair back, tucking it behind her ears and neck, hoping it would stay in place.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

Remus shifted slightly, ready to hand Juni back to her — but the baby had other plans. She latched onto his face with both hands, practically lunging forward and throwing herself into his chest.

Luna held back a gasp, eyes widening.

That little traitor!

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly, leaning forward.

“No, it’s fine,” Remus replied, adjusting his hold on Juni with simple ease. “You want to give your mother a break?”

Juniper gurgled back at him like she understood perfectly, still completely fascinated by his face.

“You don’t have to,” Luna said, hesitating. “She can be a handful.”

He shook his head gently under the grip of her tiny hands.

“It’s all fine,” Remus said. “Tell her, Juni. Your mother deserves a break, and as a friend, I’m offering it to her.”

Luna’d heart and whole body softened at the word.

Friend.

She turned toward him fully, surprised by how deeply it landed in her chest. Remus met her gaze with a warm smile, before turning his attention back to Juniper, now busy patting his cheeks.

Luna couldn’t even remember the last time she had a friend.

Before Luna could even react, a little blond blur came darting toward them, and Lex held out his hand proudly as he stopped.

“Mama! Soldier Jones! Look!” he exclaimed, all pink on the face and sweaty. “Look!”

Oh, someone was absolutely going to need to shower when they got back to their quarters.

“Look!” Lex insisted again, pushing his hand forward with even more urgency.

At last, Luna focused on his hand. Little flowers, with five lavender coloured petals.

“I found geraniums!” he said proudly. “They’re your favourite flowers, Soldier Jones.”

Remus smiled at him, shifting Juni in his arms.

“They are,” he confirmed, voice soft. “Good eye, Lex.”

Lex took his job very seriously, distributing the flowers with ceremony — two to Luna, one to Remus, and one to Juni, who grabbed it in her chubby fist with great interest, squeezing a poor petal.

“I looked for daisies, but I could only find the ones with white petals, not with yellow ones,” he informed Luna, a little frown of disappointment forming. “And I don’t know what beardtongues look like.”

Luna chuckled, feeling her heart warm.

“Oh, sweetheart — I’m sure the white daisies are just as beautiful,” she assured him gently.

Lex lit up.

“I’ll bring them!” he declared.

Before she could stop him, he’d already turned and darted off.

“Careful!” she called after him, watching his small legs carry him across the yard again.

She shook her head, holding her flowers by the stem with the utmost care.

A quiet gasp from Remus drew her attention. She turned just in time to see him gently intercept Juni’s hand, which was an inch away from making the flowers her afternoon snack.

“No, no,” he murmured with a fond smile. “No eating flowers, Juniper. They’re for your hair, not your lips.”

Luna chuckled, leaning in to gently retrieve the flower from Juni’s hand, brushing away any lingering bits from her fingers.

“I suppose this also happens often?” Remus joked with a light laugh.

She grinned.

“Oh, for years,” she confirmed. “I don’t think a single day goes by without telling someone to take their hands out of their mouth. Or off their pants.”

The sheer number of daily “hands off!” warnings in her household was just uncountable.

Boys.

Lex came running back, his little hand clenched tightly around a bundle of daisies.

“Your daisies, Mama!” he beamed, holding them up. “I’m gonna put them in your hair!”

Luna smiled, softening, and he climbed the bench excitedly. Lex stood carefully, face furrowed in concentration as he gently tucked the small flowers into her hair one by one, and she made sure to hold him in place.

“You look beautiful,” he declared, very proud.

She reached up, offering him the geraniums she was still holding. He took them with ceremony, adding them to the arrangement with the same precision. Luna hoped the flowers would stay put, just long enough to make him happy.

She held Lex’s hand as he climbed down from the bench, glancing over just in time to catch Mum breathlessly chasing Dash across the grass, giggling as she pressed a hand to her chest and he laughed gleefully ahead of her.

Luna exhaled softly, her eyes drifting back to Remus, who still cradled Juni with such calm familiarity. He was watching her closely, mouthing shapes with exaggerated care as Juni mirrored him, all the peace in the world shining in her tiny face.

Luna hadn’t felt this light in a long, long time.

Cato was gone. But her mother was here. Her children were safe. And somehow, she had even made a friend.

Maybe things still weren’t easy — maybe they never would be — but for the first time in what felt like forever, she was feeling something very nice.

Like… she could finally start thinking of living instead of just surviving.

The Land of her Serenity (on AO3)

After a year of staying in the safe house and the end of a long war, Luna moves into her old childhood home with her mother and the children. When she struggles to have access to the money she’s been saving for fifteen years, their life hardens once more. With ten children to care for, very few resources and only her mother for help, things get harder. And then they get a little easier. It takes time.

I

. . .

The camera shifted, wires humming softly as it refocused on her. Luna drew in a breath, sharp and quiet, her fingers knotting in her lap. No rings to twist now. Just skin, just nerves.

“Luna,” Finnick said, turning toward her with a candid voice. “Thank you again for giving me this time. I know you’re busy, and the past week has been exhausting — not just for you, but for your family. I know this moment isn’t easy.”

She inhaled again, deeper this time.

“Thank you, Finnick,” she mumbled, then winced — flinching at her own voice at the mess up. “I mean — you’re… welcome. You’re welcome.”

His smile was soft, patient.

She met his eyes, just for a moment, and then looked away. It was harder than she thought it would be. Speaking.

But Finnick waited. The whole room waited.

Even the cameras, somehow, felt like they were holding their breath.

“I… don’t know how to begin,” she admitted in a mumble.

“That’s alright,” Finnick replied. “You don’t need to begin perfectly. Just honestly.”

She nodded, swallowing, but still lowered her eyes, not knowing what to say. This was hard, very hard.

“Maybe from the start?” he offered quietly.

She turned her head. Prince was staring at her from his seat, his eyes wide, full of worry.

So Luna took another breath, steadying herself.

“I officially met Cato when I was seventeen,” she said at last, turning back to Finnick. “I think everyone knows that. We were in the same year of school, but we never interacted, and... well, I think he told that part of that story more than once — how I needed a model for a sculpture I was doing and… well. He was good-looking.”

Finnick chuckled, and Luna did too — lightly, even against her own will for a moment.

That had been the fun part of it all. Cato was a good-looking boy, tall and strong, and she was a girl who had fallen head over heels for him.

“He didn’t have much,” she added. “His mother had died, and his father was a Peacekeeper — stationed in another district, and… abusive.”

Her voice wavered as she frowned, remembering his words.

“He used to imply,” she went on, “that his father had something to do with her death. That of his mother. But he never explained it. Never pointed fingers, not directly.”

Her hand drifted to her neck without thinking, right where he had wrapped his hands around him.

“There was one story,” Luna decided, taking it down. “He told me once that he walked in and found his father strangling her. That he fought him off.”

She looked down, and a bitter smile came to her face, an old one.

“That was his greatest fear when we were young. Becoming him.”

The irony was heabvy as the air thickened between them, and she didn’t need look to know that it was Prince who had chuckled when she heard the sound, almost cruelly, because he knew.

“It was after the Seventy-Third Games,” she continued, steadier now. “Sometime after his birthday and when the school year ended, we started dating. And eventually, he just… moved in. With me. With my parents and my siblings, too.”

She looked at one of the walls, feeling her eyes unfocusing, that old memory playing in her mind.

“My mum had a lot of affection for him. She knew he didn’t have anyone else, so she thought… he should have us,” Luna breathed. “So he lived at our house. And because I had sold that first sculpture, I added my earnings to our family’s budget to help cover the cost of another person living with us.”

She paused, frowning as it dawned on her.

“I’ve never said that out loud,” Luna realised. “How much we did for him. How much we gave him.”

And how little that seemed to matter in the end.

“Then he went into the arena… and I found out I was pregnant,” she continued, almost mechanically, nodding. “I think it was during the chariot ride, actually.”

She gave Finnick a sad smile, and he returned it.

Luna could almost feel the prickle of the pregnancy reader on her arm.

“Well, my mother knew before I did. I was sick all the time and suddenly craving strawberries like my life depended on it. I even started stealing them from the neighbours.”

She laughed softly again, but it was hard to keep the bitterness from it, even if the story just felt detatched, and Finnick returned with a quiet, knowing smile — like he’d heard stories like this before, maybe lived them too.

“Then the Games happened. The interview, his win... you know, everything the world saw.”

Luna looked at him again, serious, feeling a pit in her stomach as her hand moved to her belly.

“The Victory Tour… they made me wear a fake belly for it,” she told him, the memory as painful now as it was before. “I must’ve been six or seven months along, but I wasn’t showing much. They didn’t like that — said it didn’t read well on camera. So they strapped this massive belly to me and taught me how to waddle.”

Luna scoffed. As if she being pregnant was not enough, as if having her privacy taken away was not enough. she had to give them what they wanted how they wanted and not an inch differently.

“That was such a stupid day,” she spat out.

She paused, swallowing away, rubbing her fingers over the fabric of her dress.

“My babies never showed that much when I carried them, I have a long torso, I think,” Luna explained, almost to herself. “The doctors said it was normal. Thinking now… I wonder if that should’ve been the first sign. That things weren’t going to go the way I wanted. But I was naive. I stayed naive for a long time.”

She took in a long breath, steadying her breath and her back. It was easy to be naive and to believe in a greater good, to have that strong believe that everything was better in the end, and if things weren’t better now, then it meant it wasn’t over.

“We had our first baby. Then our second, not long after. Those were the easy years. The good years.”

Her voice softened, the memories of the boys just flooding her mind. Prince and Hunter, nearly identical if not for their ages. They were the sweetest babies, and they were so close.

“When it was just us four… Cato was easier to be around,” she told Finnick. “We didn’t have many problems. We were just this little family — two tired parents, two babies, and a kind of peace I didn’t realise was temporary.”

She rubbed her thumb over the palm of her hand, her immobilised arm close to her chest.

“I think…” she started and then hesitated, then continued. “I think Cato still managed to compartmentalise everything back then. Keep it all buried. He never talked about the Capitol, not once. We tried our best to blend into our District. Just be normal.”

She closed her eyes, sighing. Normal. They had never been normal, and yet she was so obsessed with it. He too, from day one, even if he did not say the words, it was what he wanted.

“And for a while… we almost were,” she told Finning. “Even with the interviews and being invasive. Our own version of normal.”

Her fingers curled against her chest as she took ina breath, muscles aching from the tension, and she was grateful none of the kids would be seeing this. She couldn’t imagine them listening to this, she couldn’t imagine Ted knowing this...

“Looking back… I think things started to go wrong after we had our third. That’s when his nightmares got worse. He’d wake me up in the middle of the night — sometimes pressing me down into the bed, sometimes… fighting me, like I was the enemy.”

Her fingers rubbed the brace.

Those weren’t his fault, she knew that. And yet, she couldn’t pull her mind from how that was just a hint of everything, from how much of a warning those nightmares were.

If she had left then, or forced him into some... care? Maybe?

Would doing something change anything?

“By the time we’d been married seven years… our fights had changed. They were—”

Luna hesitated, lips pressing into a thin line. No word felt right. Nothing felt big enough to hold what that meant.

Fuck.

Luna looked at Prince again, his pretty eyes nearly unblinking.

“When Cato came back from the Capitol,” she said, not looking at Finnick yet, “he always expected one thing.”

She saw it in her mind like a book of pictures — that one day her baby had clung to her like a lifeline, just wanting to snuggle, crying because they’d woken him up so suddenly, and all she could think about was whether Cato would walk in and find her absent from the doorway.

“He wanted me waiting at the door. No matter the hour. Dressed up. Smiling. Kiss ready.”

She blinked slowly, turning back to Finnick.

“If I wasn’t there, it got bad. It led to horrible fights.”

Finnick’s face softened, but she couldn’t look at him. Luna just looked away again as shame burnt in her chest and belly.

Calling them fights felt wrong.

“No,” she whispered, correcting herself almost forcefully.

That was the time to say it, right? They were listening to her now!

“He fought me. And I… I took it.”

She squeezed her skirt tighter, knuckles turning pale.

“Cato liked to get in my face,” she squeezed her hand in a fist. “To shut me up. And he was always taller. Stronger. Since day one. He liked showing it”

Her jaw trembled a bit as she tightened it.

“I was terrified of him. That he would…”

Her hand jumped to her neck without thought, rubbing her skin as she fell into silence again, the ghost of his hands creeping around her again.

God, she was so stupid. So stupid, believing it was normal to be afraid of him, of her husband! Thinking it was just a phase, just something that would pass.

Finnick waited. So did everyone else. And then her mother’s voice echoed in her head. Just because he wasn’t violent, doesn’t mean it wasn’t wrong.

Her breath hitched.

“He started…” she tried to say, but the words caught. Her throat tightened and she sniffled, her eyes burning up. “He started…”

Prince breathed in so sharply it cut right through her, and that was it. Her eyes burned and blurred, and her face was suddenly wet as her shoulders tightened.

“No,” she shook her head and then looked at Lyme, lips tugging down on their own. “I’m sorry — can you take him out of here?”

Finnick exhaled, soft and careful, and Prince was already on his feet.

“Mum—”

“No,” she looked at him, her voice as firm as she could make it, even if she was honestly shaking. “You’ll not listen to this.”

He was just a child. Prince already knew Cato was a monster — he didn’t need more details. Especially not these.

Lyme stood up, patting his back.

“Come on, let’s get you some air,” she called.

But Prince stomped his foot, looking ever the child as his cheeks pinked and his eyebrows tightened.

“I want to stay!”

Luna held herself together — eyes steady, voice even, her face as composed as she could.

“We’ll call you back for the part you already know,” she said. “But go now.”

Her boy pouted but obeyed, and when the door shut behind him, Finnick wordlessly offered her a handkerchief.

“Thank you,” she mumbled.

Luna took a long breath, then two and three, trying to steady up.

Okay.

She could do it, she could... she could do it.

“He... started forcing me into sex around that time,” Luna practically spat, the words bitter as they refused to leave her. “Seven years in. He told me that if he didn’t get to choose when he would… be intimate… then it was the least I could do.”

“I’m sorry,” Finnick said gently.

Luna wiped at her face, blinking hard.

Well… yeah.

That…

Yeah.

She sat in silence, trying to breathe through it, her throat tightening as her mind filled up with everything. She couldn’t stop the way her lips trembled, or the little sob that came from her — the quiet, shaky little huffs she tried to swallow down.

She clenched the arms of the chair, eyes shut tight.

“It’s okay,” Finnick spoke softly.

Luna dried her face roughly and looked straight at him.

“I don’t want them to know,” she said firmly. “They know enough. They’ve seen enough.”

Her boys had seen too much. Prince had lived too much. They didn’t need this, too. She wouldn’t let them carry it.

Who would ever tell their children something like this?

“They don’t have to,” he affirmed firmly. “They don’t ever have to know.”

Luna wiped her face again, breathing in deep one more.

“He always humiliated me. Called me stupid. Useless,” she cleaned her nose with the handkerchief. “Because of my condition.”

As soon as power climbed to his head, he seemed to have forgotten everything she did for him, every way he needed her.

Finnick’s eyes softened with sorrow.

“You’re none of those things,” he said quietly but still firmly.

Luna shook her head, the exhaustion making her bones heavy. She knew that, of course she fucking knew that!

“You know,” she gave him a bitter smile, “he used to say he liked me because of it.”

She pressed her lips together.

“Normal girls are boring, he told me once,” she sniffed, the hot anger in her stomach replacing her earlier panic. “And then he turned around and made damn sure I knew every little thing I couldn’t do and rub it in my face how lucky I was he chose me.”

She cleared her throat, setting the handkerchief on her lap.

“He was yelling that to me…” she breathed out. “When he hit me the first time.”

Luna stopped, trying to pull the memory back — what had they even argued about before he brought up the boys? She had buried it so deep, she wanted to foget it.

Did it even matter any more?

“It was after the interview for our tenth anniversary,” she decided. “If you go back and look at the footage… not even an hour later.”

She shook her head again as it finally came to her, and her stomach felt even hotter with fire and fear.

“He wanted to send our boys to the Games,” Luna realised, voice breaking. “And that’s not something I could ever — ever — do. You of all people have to know that.”

Finnick nodded.

“I wouldn’t,” he said. “If I had siblings. If I were a parent. I’d never let them set foot in an arena, even if it took me everything to stop it.”

Luna met his eyes and nodded slowly.

Exactly.

“I guess I said something he didn’t like. I was furious,” she spat, the memory burning in her throat. “He grabbed me so hard it bruised half my arm. And then he hit me.”

She paused, searching the moment.

Was it a slap? Couldn’t have been a punch, no. He would have aimed for her eye, then, and it was her mouth that was swollen.

“My cheek, I think,” she gestured to her face with her good hand. “And then that night, he knelt in front of me and said he would change.”

Stupid.

She was so fucking stupid not to have packed her things, grabbed the boys, and left that same night — while he was still feeling guilty, while her parents and Juno were there, ready to help.

“Did he?” Finnick asked gently.

“I don’t know, Finnick, look at me,” she snapped.

Did he really think she’d be in this state if anything had changed for the better?

Luna grimaced just a second after, and Finnick looked down, clearly embarrassed.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted quickly. “That was not — I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said this.”

“It’s fine,” he assured her, his voice gentle. “It was a stupid question.”

Luna inhaled, rubbing her face, nervous as they fell into silence again, trying to collect herself.

But really, if she wanted to calm down, she would need to shut up. There was no way talking about this was ever going to easy.

“It got worse,” she continued, feeling her voice becoming raspy again.

Finnick exhaled softly, eyes full of quiet grief.

“The last five years were just… one long torture session,” she said quietly. “That’s all it was. I didn’t even know who I was any more.”

She couldn’t look at herself in the mirror — hadn’t, in a long time.

“I could barely eat. Just enough to keep going, just enough to feed the kids. I couldn’t sleep, either… my enemy was right there. In my bed. How do you sleep when you sleep with danger?”

And Cato had insisted on touching her. Pushed and pushed and pushed… got her fucking drunk just to get his way.

“I lived for my kids,” she said firmly, even if she couldn't see a thing over the blur in her eyes. “I love them so much and they are wonderful. They’re the only good thing Cato ever did in his life. Sweet, beautiful and kind children..”

Finnick nodded, smiling softly to her as her eyes filled with tears again.

“They take after you,” he affirmed, his voice gentle.

She pressed her lips together, but smiled a little before straighteneing her shoulders.

“I tried to shield them. Cato never really looked at them. He left all the child care to me, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“He always posed like a proud father,” Finnick said quietly.

She held back a scoff.

“He liked showing them off,” Luna corrected, her voice dry. “He…”

She closed her eyes, remembering Dash's soft words that morning, and chuckled — the sound made of half sadness, half amusement.

“My littlest boy didn’t even recognize him,” she told him. “The day before… everything…”

Luna paused, breathing slowly.

Everything.

“He asked me who he was. Called him ‘The Strange Man.’”

Finnick half smirked.

“I’m sure that was a wake-up call.”

Luna let out a long sigh.

“Yeah,” she mumbled. “It was. Probably what set everything off.”

Finnick inhaled deeply, his face sobering completely.

“Can you tell me about that day?” he asked gently. “The final day?”

Luna pressed her lips together, swallowing hard as she sniffed.

“Days,” she said quietly. “Final days.”

The door creaked open, and Luna turned to see Lyme stepping in, with Prince peeking in behind her, his sweet face serious.

“You can come in,” she looked at him.

Her boy entered quickly, making a beeline for the monitor, his body all tense and twitchy with nerves.

“Sit,” Luna said gently. “Breathe.”

Prince pouted.

“Mama…” he protested, his voice small.

“I’m okay,” she said, keeping her eyes on him.

The words were for both of them.

She was okay.

This was just a conversation.

Cato was gone.

Prince scowled, and Luna lifted her hand to her chest, inhaling deeply, gesturing for him to do the same thing. He watched her and mirrored the breath, exhaling slowly, nodding to himself.

She did it again, for herself.

Oh, her sweet boy.

She leaned back in the chair, trying to untangle the mess in her mind, to find the moment where it had all begun — those final days. But it was all a blur, one long storm of fear and all the worst feelings.

“We were fighting nearly every day by then,” she said, looking at Finnick again. “I think… I’m pretty sure our last normal fight before he left for the Capitol was about the kids.”

“About the kids?” he echoed.

She confirmed softly, her eyes moving to Prince. Her memory was sharp — it always was when it came to the kids.

She sighed.

“When he was around, he made sure to treat them terribly. He’d pick fights with them for no reason. Cato wanted to be the head of the house — the one they feared and followed.”

“And he wasn’t,” Finnick pointed.

Luna scoffed, rolling her eyes.

“He was a stranger!” she corrected him. “That usually meant I could be with them all the time. I was the one raising them, teaching them, loving them. I didn’t have to worry about him filling their heads with poison. Not until…”

Luna paused, shifting her jaw. That disagrace of a man and his fucking plans. Always putting their kids on the line, always doing things for his own satisfaction.

“There was a competition coming up. He wanted the two older boys to train and compete against each other for a spot.”

Finnick leaned forward a little.

“Training competitions,” he said. “Right?”

Yeah, she knew what he was asking for. The illegal kind.

“Yes. They happen all the time. Kids who wanted to volunteer for the Hunger Games would join them.”

“Which is against the rules,” he added, voice low.

Luna scoffed again.

“The Victors themselves ran them,” she point out. “The Capitol knew. If it didn’t like it, it had every chance to stop it, but it never did. I bet they put money into it themselves, if they could.”

She had dated Cato all through his last year of training.

The Capitol loved their Career Tributes — they were their little trophies, walking propaganda. And Cato had been one of their finest.

“And your two oldest?” Finnick said slowly.

Luna stared at him, unblinking. Waiting.

She knew where this was going. She would not talk about her children more than she wanted to. They all knew that.

“They're in reaping age now, aren’t they?”

She swallowed.

“Yes.”

The silence settled over them like fog, and Finnick waited, maybe hoping she’d fill it. When it became clear she wouldn’t, he cleared his throat.

“And you hated the competitions, I presume?”

He presumed? Had he just walked into the room?

“Wouldn’t you?” she asked back, frowning. “Children being needlessly violent toward each other. Fighting so they can fight to the death with other children. That’s not training, that’s conditioning.”

She breathed in, shaking her head.

But they were veering away from the point.

“Besides those, he wouldn’t even look at them,” she said, voice softer now. “One of the children once said…”

Luna paused, her throat tightening. The way Hunter had curled in her arms that night, with his eyes puffy from crying, his little voice breaking as he asked why he didn’t love him any more.

“One of them said the only time he looked at them was to yell,” she whispered.

Her arms tingled. The tears stung her eyes, but she blinked them away.

“That’s what I was stressed about while he was gone — the competition. I thought he’d be away for three, maybe four days. But then…”

Her voice faltered.

“He came home the next afternoon. I saw him at the nursery.”

She stopped again, bracing herself, breathing slowly, trying to fill up her longs.

The image of him with Juni in his arms still twisted her stomach, even now.

Cato — as big as a mountain — holding her tiny baby girl like he had any right.

“He did his usual thing,” she looked at the wall. “Rubbed it in my face how much he’d done for us, how we were nothing without him.”

Luna shifted her jaw, her eyes unfocused before she closed them and the silence thickened.

She could still feel it on her skin — being crowded, cornered, the heat of his body as he stood too close to hers, talking and talking and talking, all about himself. About how useless she was. How lucky she should feel.

“Then he told me about an offer he got in the Capitol,” she continued, low, bitter.

A foul taste filled her mouth just recalling it.

“I had to spend a few days with his… benefactor,” she spat the word. “In exchange for protection. All his, for a week for a lifetime of freedom. His own words.”

Her lip curled in disgust.

No more Games, no more Capitol. And all he’s asking for is a few nights with the most desired woman in District Two.

That’s what Cato had said.

“And then, as if that wasn’t enough, he twisted it all by bringing up our daughter. Said everyone congratulated him on her birth. Said she was a beautiful girl.”

Luna’s squeezed the fabric of her dress.

“They couldn’t wait for her to grow up,” she whispered. “To volunteer. To win.”

She looked at Finnick, the weight of it landing all at once.

“All so I would say yes,” she told him, voice and face flat. “So I wouldn’t think of anything else but protecting her.”

Her eyes stung and her lips twisted down. Luna raised a hand, trying to wipe the tears away again.

“That is horrible,” Finnick said quietly. “Who made that offer?”

She turned to him, sharp and sure now.

“Someone who was part of the Rebellion,” she said. “From the Capitol.”

Finnick stiffened, back going straight and face alert. Well, they probably were not expecting this.

They liked to think they were so much better than the Capitol, didn’t they? And yet, they acted all the same.

“I can assure you,” he said at last, very steady, “you’re not expected to do anything of the sort to be protected by us, Luna. Whoever that man was… he doesn’t represent our cause.”

She looked away from him, looking at Lyme, but her old friend quickly looked away, clearly embarrassed.

Sure.

Whatever they said.

Her silence stretched as she sifted through the haze, trying to put together the puzzle in the right way, the right order. But nothing came — just a blur. A memory of Dash asking who Cato was and then…

Or was that another day? The next?

Everything had started blending together.

“He left the house,” she said slowly, still processing it. “I don’t remember why. I don’t… I don’t know.”

Luna frowned, frustration making her squirm.

“It’s alright,” Finnick assured her gently.

“I just remember him coming home,” she continued, that part clear. “The kids were at school. The little ones were sleeping. He was stinking of alcohol.”

Her frown deepened.

“Did he usually drink?” Finnick asked.

She scowled.

“No. He thought it was beneath him. Stupid.”

Luna’s fingers tightened on the fabric of her dress as she tried to pinpoint what had been different that day. Why after so long just standing down, she had decided to fight back.

“Anyway... he started picking a fight again,” she said, looking away. “He screamed. Tried to corner me again. And I just… snapped.”

She couldn’t remember most of the words she’d said, maybe because the pain that followed had swallowed them whole.

But she remembered the feeling.

That fury — sharp and old, brewed for years on end — boiling over at last. The relief of finally being the one screaming. Of telling him everything she’d been holding in. Of shoving the truth right into his face.

“He hated that,” she shook her head. “So he grabbed me. Made me shut up.”

Finnick took a slow, steadying breath.

“Do you remember where he hit you?”

Her eyes snapped up to meet his, startled. She tried to think — but everything hurt. How could she choose just one place?

“Your head,” Prince said quietly.

Luna tried to turn her neck to look at him, but the brace stopped her. It didn’t stop the pain, though — duller now than before, no longer sharp enough to make her cry out, but still there.

“What?” she asked.

Her boy looked up at her, eyes wide, soft, and aching.

“He hit your head,” he explained. “He kicked it right when I walked in.”

Luna stared at him, stunned.

Cato had not—

She blinked, trying to piece the memory together, but it was all fog.

“And that’s how your arm got hurt. Your shoulder, too. He was kicking you.”

She could only look at him, unable to speak, her stomach churning with the flood of shame, fury, and helplessness all at once.

“He kicked your belly,” Prince continued quietly, almost detached. “And your back. He punched your face so much…”

His voice cracked then, cheeks flushing pink as tears welled in his eyes — and in hers.

“Luna,” Finnick said gently.

She looked at him, still frozen.

“Can he sit with us?” Finnick asked. “Can he tell his side?”

“No!” she answered without thinking, the word escaping her like a reflex.

She wasn’t going to let him carry that. Not him. Not her boy. Not like that.

But when she looked at Prince again, his eyes were soft, pleading.

“Mama,” he whispered. “Please?”

Luna stared at him, the tears slipping quietly down her cheeks.

“Please,” he said again, begging.

She closed her eyes. He was just a kid. He shouldn’t have to carry any of this. He shouldn’t have to speak it out loud.

“I want to,” he said, firmer this time. “I want to tell it.”

Luna swallowed hard, not a bone in her able to fight him.

“Fine,” she breathed.

Finnick didn’t waste a moment. He got up, grabbed Prince’s chair, and brought it to Luna’s side. The scrape of the legs across the floor sounded louder than it should have.

She couldn’t look at her son when he took his seat, but then she felt his fingers reach out and wrap around hers right away. He squeezed her hand, steady and warm, and it was hard to hold her sobs in her body.

“Hello,” Finnick said gently.

“Hi,” her son replied, voice slow and cautious.

Luna squeezed his hand, trying to keep her breath steady.

“You were explaining some things earlier, in the back,” Finnick continued. “You were there when it happened?”

Prince exhaled, shoulders tight.

“Yeah,” he mumbled. “I… both times. I was there both times.”

She squeezed his hand more, lowering her eyes. He shouldn’t have. He shouldn’t have seen anything.

“You’re the oldest, right?” Finnick asked, his voice soft. “Would you mind introducing yourself?”

Her son nodded, all tense.

Her son gave a stiff little nod, tension written all over him.

“I’m Cato,” he said quietly.

Then he paused — jaw tightening, mouth pressing into a line before he forced the words out again, this time laced with something sharp and sour.

“I’m Cato,” he repeated, “Cato Gaius Hadley, the Second.”

She raised his hand to her lips and kissed his knuckles softly.

“Thank you for speaking with us, Cato,” Finnick said, his tone full of quiet respect. “You’re very protective of your mother. I could feel you watching my every move.”

Prince glanced at her as she kept his hand close, her lips still pressed to his skin.

“She’s my mama,” he said, lowering his eyes. “Someone has to protect her.”

Luna let out a slow, weary sigh, and he squeezed her hand tightly in return.

“You saw what happened?” Finnick asked gently. “That day?”

Prince nodded.

“I was coming home,” he explained, voice a little steadier now. “With my brothers. We always walk back together — everyone. And I heard something… off. So I ran ahead into the house, and he was — he was over her.”

Luna closed her eyes, the memory of the pain still sharp, even if the bruises of the day had faded.

“I never…” Prince faltered, his voice trailing into a whisper. “I’ve never seen anything like that.”

“And you shouldn’t have,” Luna mumbled.

Finnick didn’t respond right away. They sat in silence for a long moment as Prince took in a deep breath.

“He stopped when he realised we were home,” Prince said quietly. “But I saw some of it. I know he punched her, her face was all bruised. And he was… he was kicking her head. It was really scary.”

Luna sniffed, trying to hold in the sound, but gave up on not crying. The tears kept coming anyway.

“We hid our youngest brothers,” Prince continued. “Us — the older boys. We didn’t let them see it. He ran away, and we got the kids inside.”

Luna remembered the crying, all the sobbing the way they called her name over and over. She remembered lying, saying it was an accident, apologising like that would make it better.

“One of the boys grabbed the first aid kit,” Prince went on. “And I looked her over to see what was wrong. Her eyebrow was cut, and her face was all swollen. We tried to use that fancy cream we had… the one for accidents.”

“I never let things get to this point,” Luna hissed quickly, her voice shaky. “They’d never seen anything — never heard anything between us. Never.”

Finnick and Prince looked at her.

Both Finnick and Prince looked at her.

“They’re children,” she snapped. “They’re not meant to know those things!”

“But we knew,” Prince said softly.

Luna turned to him, twisting her body despite the discomfort.

“We… we always knew you two didn’t get along,” he said, locking eyes with her. “We always knew he was violent.”

Her lip trembled.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, squeezing his hand.

“He broke our toys for no reason,” Prince said, turning to Finnick. “He broke my door — three different times, growing up. He was always yelling. That’s all he ever did when he paid attention to us, yell at us. Try to show he was in control.”

He looked at Luna again.

“That’s why Mum never let him near us. She protected us from him.”

She rubbed his hand gently, her eyes locked on his.

“I didn’t know he hit her,” Prince said softly, looking at her. “If I had… I would’ve done something.”

Luna squeezed his hand again.

“You’re a child,” she told him gently. “It’s not your job to fix that.”

“But he shouldn’t do that!” Prince protested, his voice rising. “He shouldn’t have done any of it!”

“I know. But that doesn’t mean it’s your responsibility.”

His thin lips curled into a soft pout, and she watched as he sniffed, blinking to keep himself from crying.

“You’re my mum,” he mumbled, voice tight.

Then his face hardened, and he looked at Finnick, his eyes full of anger now.

“I knew I shouldn’t have left her alone! I should’ve stayed in her room like I did the night before.”

“What happened that night?” Finnick asked.

They both turned to look at him. Luna breathed in deeply, trying to keep herself straight.

She would have to speak about it. She knew that.

And yet…

Prince looked at her again, his eyes full of worry.

“He wasn’t home when I went to bed,” he explained. "I don’t know when he came back.”

Luna took another breath, deeper this time, and Prince picked the handkerchief from her lap, placing it in her hand. She wiped her cheeks and nose slowly.

They waited.

“Cato came home in the middle of the night,” Luna explained. “Sometime before sunrise.”

She paused, straightening her back.

“He looked… erratic,” she continued. “I don’t know what was wrong with him. I didn’t care, to be honest.”

Luna swallowed, closing her eyes for a moment. He looked like an apparition, those unexplained dreams one had when they couldn’t wake up fully when they were stuck between sleep and consciousness and paralysed by it.

“I tried to convince him to leave,” she said, voice tight. “I told him we could talk in the morning. But he insisted. He kept going on about fixing what had happened.”

She could still see him: the flowers in his hand, eyes completely hollowed, the way he followed her like a predator stalking wounded prey.

“I locked myself in the nursery,” she forced out, almost spitting the words. “He kept talking about regrets, about being sorry. I tried to keep him calm. I just… I didn’t want to make him snap.”

She’d been so focused on appeasing him, on not provoking anything worse. As if it would change anything.

Her voice cracked as she went on.

“I blocked the door. I dragged a chair against it. And he... he just broke through. Like it was nothing! Shoved it aside and dragged me back into the room,” her voice cracked. “And I cried. I — I was so desperate.”

She pressed her lips together, hard.

Would anything have changed if she hadn’t done any of what she did? If she’d just let him do what he wanted? Would he have hurt her less? More?

“He said I was his,” she whispered.

Those were his words, she remembered that. Cato holding her tightly, growling like a rabid dog, that she was his!

Like she was a pet! Like she was anything but human.

“I told him to leave,” she said, stronger this time.

“You told him to get out,” Prince echoed.

She turned to him, surprised.

“You screamed it,” he said, eyes locked on hers. “Get out. That’s what woke me up.”

Prince took a shaky breath, visibly forcing the words out.

“It wasn’t just me who woke up,” he added softly.

His eyes moved to look at Finnick, then the camera, before focusing on her again.

“Two and Three,” he added, his voice barely above a whisper.

Hunter and Ted.

Luna’s heart squeezed painfully in her chest. Her little boys.

“I told them to stay downstairs,” Prince continued, his voice flat with the kind of restraint that only came from remembering something too clearly. “Told them to lock the door with the younger ones if I screamed. Someone had to protect them if he… if he came down.”

Luna inhaled, trying — failing — to steady herself. Her throat tightened and burned and the shame of it all clung to her like growing vines.

Prince turned to Finnick.

“I went upstairs,” he said, and paused, swallowing visibly. “And I saw him choking her.”

Luna’s breath left her body in a small, broken sound.

God.

“Her feet were off the ground. He was squeezing so hard. I could see her face... it was all purple!” his voice trembled. “And she wasn’t even fighting any more!” he practically spat, shaking.

He opened and closed his mouth as she watched him, unmoving, frozen.

She could barely feel her own limbs, her body felt like it wasn’t even hers as she watched him tell it. Luna was numb, heavy, like she was just one of her statues. She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t breathe.

Prince blinked quickly, jaw clenched as his voice cracked.

“I panicked,” he admitted. “I grabbed something… I think it was decoration. A vase? I don’t know. I just — hit him with it. On the head.”

Luna’s heart pounded against her ribs.

“And he dropped her,” Prince said, looking at her now, eyes wet with tears. “I heard her hit the floor.”

Prince squeezed her hand tightly, and the blur in her eyes just became tears.

“I thought she was dead,” he whispered, terrified. “That I was too late.”

She took his hand once more, kissing his knuckles again and again. She just to pull him into her arms, wrap him up like he was just a tiny baby again. But she couldn’t. If she did, she would shatter — more than now, more than she had already broken.

“I saw Cato going to him,” Luna whispered, breath hitching. “I didn’t know it was him at first — I just saw one of my boys, cornered… with that monster over him. And I didn’t think. I didn’t hesitate. I jumped on him.”

Her voice cracked, her whole chest shaking as she closed her eyes.

“I dug my fingers into his eyes,” she confessed, her voice raw. “I wanted to blind him. I wanted him to scream. I wanted him away from you.”

A sob broke free and shook through her spine, even as she bit down on her lip to silence herself.

“He punched me,” Prince said softly beside her. “I think… I think he was going to choke me too.”

Silence settled again between them, thick as smoke. Luna couldn’t speak. She was trying — really trying — to hold in the crying, but her breaths were just greedy gulps of air.

“Mama,” Prince whispered.

“I can do it,” she hissed between her teeth.

She said she was going to tell them the story, she was going to tell them the story. And then they would never speak of it again!

Her voice was shaking, but she forced it forward, dragging it from the bottom of her lungs.

“He slammed me against the wall,” she hissed. “The mirror. Again and again. All I could think was to get my boy out. Just go. Run. Grab the nanny, the kids — get away from this place.”

Looking back… she might as well have been ready to die. If Prince hadn’t come back with the sword, she knew she was going to die.

“I found his sword,” Prince spoke up, his voice trembling as he turned to Finnick. “The one he had made after for the anniversary of the games. He showed it off like a trophy when he got it. It was new. I knew it was sharp.”

Luna could barely breathe. The image had burned itself into her memory. Her sweet, terrified boy. Her baby, no taller than the monster before him, standing with both hands on that sword, arms shaking, breath ragged. But he didn’t back down.

“He was coming after me,” Prince continued, swallowing hard. “I tried to hold the sword. He twisted my arm and it cut his side. I hurt my arm breaking the cabinet, it hurt. I dropped the sword, but I kicked it to her.”

Luna gasped softly at the memory. That glint of metal flying across the floor. She didn't even think, she just moved.

“I grabbed it,” she whispered. “And I swung it.”

Her hand trembled in his, and Prince clutched it tighter. She could barely feel the weight of it in her hand, nothing but the sheer panic.

Prince grabbed her hand with both of his.

“I just… hit him,” Luna said, staring down at the floor, seeing the blood there. “I kept hitting. I didn’t even think. I hit him until he fell — and then the sword got stuck.”

There was a silence heavy with everything they could not say. And Luna saw it all again, the moment after: running to Prince, grabbing his arm, checking if he was bleeding and if he could move it. Holding him to her chest like she could shield him from the world. Then running to Juni, who was screaming in her crib. Picking her up, comforting her.

And then...

“He called for me,” she mumbled, blinking as her voice trembled. “He was still alive. Couldn’t move. I think I hit his spine or… I don’t know. Something important.”

She felt sick at the memory — not because she regretted it, but because even as he lay bleeding, maybe dying, Cato still thought he had anything over her. That he could call for her help and she would do anything.

“I pulled the sword out,” Prince said, his voice no longer trembling — but steady, almost defiant.

Luna turned her head to look at him. Prince was sitting stiff, his chest puffed out, jaw tight. And when he met her eyes, there was something fierce in them — not just confidence. Pride.

“I pulled the sword out,” he repeated, stronger this time. “I finished it. Him.”

Her heart stuttered in her chest and she could hardly breathe as she listened.

Luna reached for him with her good hand, her fingers trembling as they brushed against his cheek. She cupped his face gently, afraid to hurt him as her thumb touched under his eyes eye where she’d wiped tears so many times when he was small.

Her sweet Prince, her dear boy.

“Oh, my love,” she whispered, her voice breaking again, not even knowing what else to say.

Because what words could possibly fit?

“It must have been terrifying,” Finnick said gently. “For both of you.”

Luna turned her body toward him, suddenly aware of his presence again. For a moment, she had forgotten they were being watched — filmed.

She nodded, as much as the neck brace allowed her to.

“It was,” she whispered.

“I’m sorry,” Finnick told them. “I’m really sorry. No one should have gone through what your family went through.”

Luna exhaled slowly, her eyes blinking hard against the heaviness behind them. Finnick didn’t rush her, he just let the silence hold, soft and respectful.

Lyme came to them with water, placing a glass gently in Luna’s hand. She drank it down in a few gulps, and Prince did the same with his. Finnick walked out for a moment, turning to speak softly with the woman behind the cameras.

She was at least a little bit put together when he sat down again, and the monitor turned to face them.

“You’ve been friends with Lyme since before… everything, haven’t you?”

Luna breathed in through her nose, steadying herself.

“Yes,” she said. “For… I think—”

She paused, doing the math, blinking at how strange it felt to say it aloud.

“I think my mum’s known her for forty-nine years,” she mumbled. “And I’ve known her since I was… seventeen, maybe eighteen.”

Finnick nodded slowly.

“And Lyme was the one who brought you here.”

Luna’s fingers curled lightly against her knee, her voice quiet as she confirmed.

“She saved us.”

There was no doubt about that. If the Capitol had found them, she would be dead. She knew that like she knew her own name.

Their eyes met — hers and Lyme’s — and for a moment, the world paused. Lyme gave her a soft, steady smile, and nodded gently.

But when Luna turned back to Finnick, she saw he was focused on the monitor, his expression sober.

“We have a few photos that Luna has allowed us to show,” he said carefully. “From the day she arrived at the safehouse and got medical attention… and from the morning she was rescued.”

Her body tensed, almost on instinct.

From the morning she was rescued?

Her fingers twitched slightly in her lap, and the tiny hint of a smile she had managed moments ago slipped away.

“These are very sensitive images,” Finnick continued. “So children and anyone who isn’t comfortable with the sight of injuries — now would be the time to turn away. I understand if either of you needs to look away as well.”

Prince didn’t. He stayed still and upright, jaw clenched, eyes unflinching. Serious. Determined.

The screen lit up.

The first image that appeared was of her back — still at the house.

Luna’s breath hitched in her throat. Her back was a mess of blood — deep red blood streaking down her skin and her nightgown Multiple shards of glass protruding out, lodged into her like grotesque thorns.

“This is from when he slammed you against the mirror, isn’t it?” Finnick asked gently.

“Yes,” Luna said, the word scraping out of her.

The slideshow continued.

And Finnick didn’t flinch.

He let the camera capture everything the doctors had documented that day. Her body — the canvas of bruises on her skin. The boot print stamped in violet and green into the curve of her lower back. The angry finger-shaped marks, her swollen face. Her neck — nearly twice its normal size now that she was looking, entirely discoloured and almost black in places. Her eye, red with broken blood vessels.

Luna stared at the images like they were someone else’s. She knew they weren’t, she remembered every moment — she confirmed every moment.

And yet...

Seeing it, outside of herself, made her want to disappear. Her skin crawled as she forced herself to look away, breathing in and out.

He didn’t ask her to name each bruise, cut and mark — maybe knowing too well she couldn’t say a word about it even if she wanted to.

When Finnick finally spoke again, once the images had faded from the screen and the silence had stretched long enough to feel reverent, his eyes were kind. Soft and full of weight.

“I cannot imagine how hard this was for you, Luna,” he said gently. “And I thank you so much for telling me your story, and for letting me share it.”

She exhaled, trembling, and gave him a small nod. That was all she could manage.

“I hope your recovery is swift,” he added. “Your body, your mind… and your family. We will do everything in our power to keep each and every one of you safe and sound. We are fighting so that the future doesn’t have any of this in it. So no one else has to live through what you did.”

“Thank you, Finnick,” she mumbled.

Finnick turned then, his focus shifting to Prince with full sincerity.

“And you too, Cato.”

Prince’s looked up, meeting Finnick’s eyes.

“You are a very brave boy,” he affirmed. “But I want to remind you of something.”

He leaned forward, and his voice, though still calm, was very firm.

“Violence might have been the answer then—” he gestured to the darkened monitor, where her photos had once been, “—but that time is over. That danger is gone. Now you're safe, and life is going to be different. Better. Sweeter.”

His voice gentled again.

“You are a brave boy. But that’s what you are. A boy. And you deserve to have a childhood, a good one. You deserve peace, laughter, softness. To let go of all this violence and leave it behind. It’s for you that we’re fighting. So you don’t have to live through this again. So no one does.”

Prince gave a quiet nod. Still stoic, still strong — but a flicker of softness passed through his eyes.

Finnick turned back to the camera. His face was calm but hard, his voice sharp and dramatic.

“This—” he said, gesturing to Luna and Prince, “—is what the system set by the Capitol does to people. It creates violence. It enables, protects, and incentivises abuse. The kind of abuse we heard about today.”

He let the words settle. Not rushed. Not dramatic. Just the truth.

“Luna didn’t tell her story to scare anyone,” he continued. “She told it to expose just how harmful this system truly is — and why it must be taken down. Not tomorrow. Not someday. Now.”

Finnick straightened, his expression steady, but burning with conviction.

“And I want to speak to the people watching — especially those in the outer districts, and even more so, to those from Districts One, Two and Four.”

He took a slow breath.

“We’ve all been lied to since we were children. We were taught that strength means domination, that victory makes you worthy; that if you want to survive, someone else has to die,” he said firmly. “They told us that our enemies were the people in the other districts. That we had to hate them, compete with them, fear them… but the truth is, that rivalry was made so we would hate each other, so we’d never think to turn around and look at who was holding the leash and who was harming us. The Capitol. Snow.”

Luna squeezed Prince’s hand, but he was completely focused on Finnick now, staring with an almost enamoured look.

“They made us enemies so we wouldn’t turn against them. But we’re done playing those games, we are done sending children to die or to come back so traumatised they take it out on innocent people,” he affirmed. “It’s why we must take them down. We will build something new, something better. And when we do, it will be for the children who never got to grow up and for the ones still learning how to breathe again.”

He gave the camera a final nod, and his voice, now soft and steady.

“This was Luna’s story, but it could have been anyone’s. And that’s exactly why it has to end. And you can join now, and stop it. Fight side by side with us, for change and peace. I'm Finnick Odair. Thank you for your time.”

. . .

Next (last) Chapter: Epilogue (5/5)

. . .

*TIME SKIP TO WHEN THEY'RE IN THE TRAINING AREA IN THE CAPITAL*

 *Cato's POV*

        I watched quietly with arms crossed over my chest as (Y/n) was sparring with one of the Capital trainers using just a sword. I observed every stroke of her sword, the way her eyebrows knitted together in concentration, and the way she looked so graceful as she fought. Soon enough she was able to disarm her opponent and went for the final blow but stopped her sword just in time so that it wouldn't come in contact with the trainer.

        "Very good (Y/n). Again," The trainer said and (Y/n) got back into a fighting stance.

        "Hey Cato!" Glimmer exclaimed happily as she and Marvel made their way towards me. I rolled my eyes slightly as they came to a halt beside me. I knew Glimmer has feelings for me and she flirted with me every chance she got, and even though I flirted back a few times, my attention was always on one particular person.

        Yeah, it's bad to start catching feelings for one of the other tributes since only one of you can make it out alive, but it gets worse when they person you have feelings for is from your district. For years (Y/n) and I trained together in the same training center back home but we hardly spoke so I never really gave her a second thought. But the moment she volunteered for her sister and we got stuck living together on the same floor in the Capital, I really wished that I talked to her when I first laid eyes on her. She obviously cares a lot about her family, especially her sister, and she's also incredibly kind. In fact, since the first day of training with the other tributes I noticed how she's always so soft and caring towards the younger tributes, in particular the girl Rue from District 11. (Y/n) would help the younger tributes by showing them the proper ways to hold swords and taught them how to throw knives. At first I was angry at her for teaching our competition basically how to kill us but when I confronted her about it, her anger matched mine and she quickly got defensive.

        "I'm just trying to show them how to survive Cato! I know I shouldn't be helping them since they're our competition but they're children! They deserve to at least have a fighting chance!" She shouted at me as she got on her toes to reach my height to prove she wasn't afraid of me. I think that's the moment I realized my feelings for her. Normally, people back down when I'm angry so that they won't have to be at the receiving end of my rage but with (Y/n) she was in no hurry to back down and I could tell she was not going to go down without a fight. Although she can be quiet and kind, she can also be aggressive and intimidating when she wants to be. 

        "Hello? Cato did you hear me?" I was quickly drawn out of my thoughts by the sound of Glimmer's annoyed voice and her fingers snapping in front of my face. 

        "What'd you say?" I asked as I focused my attention on her and Marvel.

        "I was asking if you got (Y/n) to ally with us in the Games."         "Oh, I haven't asked her yet. I'll ask her now," and with that I walked over to where (Y/n) stood which was besides the swords rack.

        "Hey (Y/n)," I called to get her attention and she turned to look at me. For a moment my heart skipped a beat which was odd because it's never done that when I'm around any other girl.

        "What's up?" 

        "We're just wanting to make sure that you're going to be a part of our alliance for the Games."

        "Yeah I am," was all she responded before she brushed past me to head towards the bows and arrows. I was shocked to say the least. Most of the girls back home would practically beg for me to give them attention, let alone talk to them but (Y/n) seemed indifferent. Come on Cato. You've already passed up the opportunity to talk to her before and you're starting to regret it now. Now's the time to make a move on her before it's too late. It's literally now or never, I thought to myself. I followed (Y/n) to where she was, her back straight, her focus on the target ahead of her as she pulled the arrow back taunt. She took a deep breath before releasing the arrow. Bulls-eye! Dang this girl really knows how to handle weapons. I went up to her just as she was knocking her second arrow.

        "Hey, meet me on the roof tonight at midnight," I whispered to her as I made my way back towards Glimmer and Marvel. "There. She agreed to be a part of our alliance," I said in response to their questioning looks.

*TIME SKIP (BACK TO YOUR POV)*

        It was 11:50 pm and I slowly cracked my door open and slipped out of my room. Throughout the entire day I kept wondering to myself why Cato wanted to meet with me tonight, especially on the roof. Maybe he sees me as his biggest threat and wants to push me off? But I doubt it, he wouldn't risk getting in trouble, plus he probably needs me to help him eliminate most of the competition. THEN he'll kill me. I tried to push all of my thoughts away as I made my way to the roof but I still couldn't help but be curious as to what he could possibly want to talk about this late in the night. As I opened the door to the roof I noticed a lone figure sitting on the edge with their feet dangling. 

        "Hey," I said as a way to get the person's attention and Cato turned, his face illuminated by the pale moonlight. 

        "Hey," he replied softly, patting the spot next to him and I took this as my cue to site beside him. As I sat down, I saw him twirling his thumbs together nervously which sent up a red flag for me. Cato was never nervous. 

        "So what'd you wanna talk about?" I asked, trying to break the uncomfortable silence. Before I could register what was happening, his lips were on mine. I wanted so desperately to pull away, to not succumb to my feelings for him because I knew that only one of us will make it out of the Games alive but I couldn't help myself so I kissed back. His lips were so soft and he was a lot more gentle than I imagined he would be and it made me want to make this moment last forever. However, because we needed oxygen to breathe we both pulled away reluctantly.

        "Well that was a great conversation starter," I joked and he laughed. Not one of those fake or forced laughs but a genuine one. He looked at me with the softest look in his eyes and I smiled shyly at him.

        "You know (Y/n), in a span of just a few days, you got me to fall in love with you without even trying." I felt my face begin to heat up at this and I looked away, trying to hide my face behind my hair. 

        "That's not true Cato. You're just saying that aren't you?" I said in denial. I knew Cato well enough to know he was trying to play at some sort of angle. Trying to make me believe he loved me, to make me weak and vulnerable, that way in the Games my guard will be down around him and he'll kill me easily.

        "I'm not (Y/n). I'm serious. Look I've noticed you in the training center back home in District 2 and I've always found you attractive but because we never talked, I hardly gave you a second thought."

        "Ha, thanks," I scoffed, rolling my eyes.

        "Just let me finish...Now that I've gotten to know you a bit better over the past few days, I realized that I was stupid and I should've talked to you when I had the chance."

        "Gotten to know me? Cato, we've hardly talked these past few days." 

        "That's true but your actions speak louder than words. Just from what I can tell from the way you act, I already know the type of person you are. You're a kind and caring person, that's why you always help the younger tributes because they remind you of your sister. You stand up for what you believe in which is why you didn't back down from me when I confronted you for helping the other tributes. You're strong and independent from what I can tell, especially since you've proven you can look out for yourself with the way you can handle your weapons." I could feel my face heat up even more but I still decided to look him in the face. As I looked him in his eyes I could tell he was being sincere from the gentle look he was giving me and his soft smile. "You're right about us hardly talking though which is why I asked you to meet me tonight. That way we get to know each other more."

        "But Cato, you know that nothing can happen between us right? Even if our feelings are mutual, only one of us can survive the Hunger Games," I told him, trying to think things logically even though my heart already knew what it wanted.

        "I know... But a few days together is better than wondering about the what if's right? To make the most of the time we do have together?" At this point I can hear the hope and pleading in his voice. "If you don't feel the same about me that's fine though, I just wanted you to know because we never know what's going to happen in the Games. But just know, I will do whatever it takes to make sure you're the one that wins." As soon as the words came out of Cato's mouth my eyes widened in shock.

        "What? But Cato-" He interrupted me before I could finish. 

        "(Y/n) I'm serious. I've seen how close you and your sister are, you need to go home to her alive. And I promise I'll do whatever it takes to make that happen," Cato said, his face showing how serious and sincere he is. I was at a loss for words. So instead of trying to say something I grabbed him by the face and pulled him in for a kiss to which he returned. Moments passed before we finally pulled away panting. 

        "You know Cato, you've gotten me to fall in love with you too in just a few days. And since we don't know what's going to happen to us in the Games then we might as well make the most of the time we have together. Even if it's just one day or a few days, I don't care. As long as I'm with you." Cato just smiled before pulling me in for another long kiss but I stopped him. "Just promise me this though, we'll do whatever it takes to make sure we both make it out alive."

“I don’t want to talk to anyone,” Luna sighed, the exhaustion heavy on her shoulders. “I don’t want to open up, I don’t want to rehash everything. I just want to forget it happened, Mum.”

Her voice cracked as she ran her hand up her face.

“I don’t want to have to remember every time he hurt me just so they can twist it into propaganda!”

Her mother exhaled slowly, walking over and sitting beside Luna on the bed. She reached for her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“I know,” she whispered.

Her thumb rubbed soothing circles over Luna’s knuckles, warm and steady.

“But…” her voice was careful, measured. “You know…”

She trailed off, letting the quiet stretch between them. Luna closed her eyes, already knowing where it was going.

“You know,” Mum finally continued, “before this week… for the last five, maybe seven years… I think I saw you more on a screen than I ever did in person.”

Luna swallowed hard but said nothing. Because it was true.

Cato never let her leave. Never let her visit. And bringing her family in was a battle she always lost before it even began. Her world had become that gilded cage — and her family had only ever glimpsed it from the outside.

“Old interviews, wedding footage… photos and update reels,” Mum whispered. “I heard about Dash’s birth from Caesar Flickerman. ‘Our dearest Cato and Luna have welcomed another healthy baby — how blessed they are!’” she quoted bitterly.

Luna's chest tightened, the raw ache spreading behind her ribs.

Those last two pregnancies had nearly broken her. Not just her body — though they’d done that too — but her spirit. By then, there had been no illusions left, no carefully painted lies she could tell herself to survive the day. She hated Cato. She feared him. And she was still there, still with him, for safety, for stability, for the children.

Dash hadn’t been like the other boys. He wasn’t the result of a desperate attempt to be a good wife or keep the peace. No, he was the result of being worn down, emotionally battered, and cornered. She’d been convinced to lie back and take it — just once — and she had. She’d thought it was a safe day.

It hadn’t been.

And Dash… sweet, curious Dash… she loved him. Of course she did. But it had taken effort. It had taken time. Loving him while he grew inside her had felt like trying to walk through tar. She had spent most of that pregnancy numb, detached, just trying to make it through.

She’d only mailed mum to tell her about the pregnancy when he was already five months in. And then she only told her about the gender and name when she mailed her about him being born.

They didn’t exchange many letters — they were terribly monitored not only by Cato but also by the Capitol. Anything that came in and out of their home was public knowledge. Luna would rather wait to be able to see Mum instead, even if it took months or years for them to see one another, she didn’t trust any other way of communication.

“Then I wondered,” she continued, voice soft, “if it was a boy or a girl, or if you’d picked a name yet, and I thought… Oh, I hope she wasn’t alone. I hope he held her hand through it, and birth was easy.”

Her voice cracked.

“And I remember saying to Julius… I hope it’s a girl, and that maybe they’ll take a break,” she whispered. “Because I thought that’s why you kept having them. Because you wanted a girl. I never…”

She trailed off. Luna didn’t press her to finish. She knew already — she’d lived it.

“And the way you were always shown on screen,” Mum went on after a beat, quieter now, almost as if talking to herself. “Your hair, so long, in those soft curls, the dresses so perfect, every detail planned… I’d see you and I’d think — she doesn’t look like the girl who I said goodbye to when she moved out of my house. Not like my little moon girl, with her overalls and practical shoes, with hair always pulled back and cut on the same style since she could speak…”

Luna’s eyes stung again, and this time she didn’t bother wiping them.

“And your wedding day…” her mother began, voice thick with old grief, “I didn’t even see you.”

Luna felt her chest crack further as Mum’s voice dipped lower, almost like a confession.

“I only ever thought of the first one, you know? That night.”

A sad smile tugged at Luna’s lips as the tears rolled down her cheek.

“No Capitol nonsense — no layers and layers of silks or powders or shiny things,” Mum looked away, a faint chuckle in her throat. “Just my girl wearing my dress. That was the only wedding I held onto.”

She paused again, exhaling hard.

“But then I remember… I let him steal you from me. And sometimes I think... maybe I should’ve held on harder. Maybe I should’ve fought more.”

Luna squeezed her hand gently, but Mum shook her head.

“But that’s not what this is about, is it?”

She leaned in, kissed Luna’s knuckles with sweet tenderness, and gave her hand another pat.

“They built someone else in your place,” she said, her voice laced with quiet fury. “Their perfect little Capitol Delight.”

The name made Luna’s mouth sour and made her lips turn down in disgust.

“All delicate and pretty, no more than a smiling little wife on a pedestal,” Mum whispered. “They didn’t show the real you. Not your fire, not your damn stubborn streak, or how sharp you’ve always been — doctor label be damned.”

Her mother’s hand tightened around hers, fierce and proud despite it all, and her voice ever stronger.

“They didn’t even hide that label. They used it. Made it part of that story. ‘Oh look, how sweet and soft she is — how lucky she was to marry a Victor, how lucky she is to be cared for.’”

She scoffed.

“As if you were the one being cared for, the one who needed him,” Mum spat, shaking her head. “As if he was the protector. You were the one holding that boy together the whole time he was with us. And then you held your house together on your own! You always were the strong one. He leaned on you. He needed you. Cato sucked you dry and still, you kept fighting.”

Luna blinked her blurry eyes, swallowing down.

That, he did. Cato had drained her until she was just a skeleton of herself, and when he saw she didn’t want to give him anything else, he tried to kill her.

“And I think…” Mum said slowly, her voice quieter now. “this might be your one and only chance to show them who you really are. And who Cato really was. Who he turned into.”

Mum moved slowly, kneeling in front of her, looking into her eyes. It wasn’t pushing or demanding, just… Mum.

Fierce, protective, strong.

“I understand if you want to protect yourself,” she said gently, but with that fire that never left her voice. “And your image. I do. But you know the Capitol — there’s no guarantee they won’t twist things again. They’ve got years’ worth of footage and photos of your life on a silver platter. And now that Cato’s gone… they’ve got no reason to hold back. You know that.”

Luna inhaled shakily, her eyes slipping closed. Of course she knew that.

Mum gave her hands another squeeze.

“So why not give the rebels the same chance?” she asked softly. “Let someone tell your story the right way — before they do it for you again.”

Luna didn’t even have the chance to respond.

A voice cut through the room before she could open her mouth.

“If you don’t do it, I will.”

She turned sharply at the sound, pain ripping through her body at the motion. Her jaw clenched tight as she swallowed the groan that rose in her throat and Mum steadied her gently.

Prince was standing there — so big for his age, tense and still. He walked to her side and met her eyes with the same determination he’d had the day they’d left everything behind.

His voice didn’t shake.

“If they want to hear about Cato, I can tell them,” he said. “I know everything.”

Not Dad. Not even Father.

Cato.

Luna’s breath caught in her chest.

“Prince,” she exhaled, her voice barely more than a whisper.

But he didn’t stop.

“I saw the way he hit you,” he said, steady and sharp, his voice laced with a fury far too old for his years. “Both times. Days ago. And before that. The way he treated me, and the boys. How he never even looked at Juni or Dash, or any kid who wasn’t useful to him. How he mixed us up, like we weren’t his kids. Just... I don’t even know what we were to him.”

Her heart clenched. She reached for him, brushing her fingers gently against his cheek, her thumb tracing the soft curve.

“Baby…” she whispered.

Cause that was what he was. Maybe overly grown and tall, but he was just a baby.

But Prince stepped closer to her, his eyes shining, filled with tears he refused to let fall.

“They think he’s a hero,” Prince spat. “but he was a monster. And if you don’t tell them about it, then I will.”

Luna watched his face, searching — desperately — for something to say that might soften the edges of his anger, and ease the ache behind his eyes. Her first instinct, that old habit of appeasement, flickered through her: to remind him that Cato loved him. Because once — once — he did.

Not now. Not recently. But back then—

Back when they were just two teenagers pretending they knew what they were doing, playing house with a newborn neither of them was ready for. When Prince was their only child, and they were both still trying, still hoping, still something.

When she was young and pregnant and terrified, watching Cato win the Games and marry her with trembling hands, convinced the nightmare would one day end and leave only history behind.

And later, when Prince was a toddler and Cato used to scoop him up like the world didn’t weigh anything, letting him fall asleep nestled between them, with Hunter curled at her chest. Back when love still looked like real.

But that was over a decade ago, a lifetime ago.

And that man… that man had died long before Luna ever wrapped her hands around the handle of that sword.

“I can’t let you do that,” she told him softly, her voice trembling a little. “You know I can’t.”

Prince didn’t flinch. His fingers tightened around hers, his jaw set, and his eyes — so heartbreakingly like his father’s and so different at the same time — set right on hers.

“Then do it!” he begged, stomping a foot, his little voice cracking. “Tell them, Mama!”

And it wasn’t just anger in his voice. It was grief, and truth, and fear and braveness at the same time.

And what kind of mother would she be to say no to him?

To her boy — her son, her baby — begging her to speak this pain out loud, because he couldn’t carry it alone anymore?

Luna closed her eyes as she took in a long breath, and she pulled him into her arms, holding him close. Oh, her poor baby, he was shaking!

She pressed a kiss to his cheek, her fingers brushing gently through his hair.

“Alright,” she assured him. “I’ll speak to them.”

Prince wrapped his arms around her tightly, resting his head in the crook of her shoulder.

She held him as close as she could when he sniffled against her, breathing her in, trying so hard not to fall apart.

Mum rubbed Prince’s back softly, and they stayed there like that for a while, until morning life pulled them all back into motion.

It was like every other morning: the half of the boys who bathed early took their turns, breakfast was delivered, and Luna tried her best to get them to read the books they'd been sent for “schooling.”

They looked pretty old to her — well-used, maybe even handed down for decades by the rebels. Still, they held more knowledge than Luna had ever learned at school, or from the boys’ old Capitol-approved homework. There were pictures and facts about other districts, fragments of their history, and even some recipes from traditional foods.

Hunter was flipping through a section on wedding customs, and read them aloud about District Four when stopped by him.

There, couples were covered in a net made from grass, touched each other’s lips with salt water, and sang a song about marriage being a sea voyage.

It sounded beautiful.

In school, they weren’t ever taught much about the other districts — only what they produced, and not much else.

“What are our weddings like?” Lex asked, all curious when he looked at her.

Luna had just turned to answer when a knock echoed at the door.

Lunch delivery. Right on time, as always.

“That’ll have to wait until after we eat,” she said, rising from the table. “Mark your books. I’m going to see what we’ve got today. And everyone, go wash your hands.”

She turned, narrowing her eyes at Sammy and Sweetie.

“And I will smell them,” Luna warned.

Her sweet little boys always tried to rush through that part.

But when she opened the door, it wasn’t just the usual lunch cart rolling into their room.

It was Lyme — shadowed by a soldier, a box of rations in hand, and Doctor Sara, already holding her medical case.

“Luna,” Lyme greeted, her voice steady. “May we come in?”

She took in a deep breath.

Well, she was surprised they had waited that long to ask if she had made her decision.

“Of course.”

As they entered, she glanced toward the table, where Mum was already gathering some of the boys to sit. Herding them like ducklings, as always.

“I brought lunch!” Lyme announced with a tentative smile. “And Doctor Sara wanted to check in, see how the kids are doing.”

Luna’s eyes flicked over them both. Sure, she thought. That might’ve been one reason. Maybe even two. But there were probably four or five more they weren’t mentioning.

Mum came up and took the box from Lyme’s hands, sparing her a brief look.

“Labelled,” Lyme added quickly, a little sheepish. “With treats.”

Mum raised a single, unimpressed eyebrow, then turned and walked the box back to the boys without a word.

That left Luna, Lyme, and Doctor Sara standing near the door, with a polite silence thick in the air.

“How are you?” Lyme asked, voice just a bit too casual.

“I’m tired,” Luna said flatly. “A bit cramped. My body hurts. The baby didn’t sleep at all last night, and I spent my morning trying to get eight boys to read books when they’d rather be doing literally anything else in the world — anything outside of this room we’re only allowed to leave under supervision. So. I do what I can.”

Lyme and Doctor Sara both stared at her, their smiles stiffening with discomfort.

Well, they’d asked.

“Oh,” Luna added, “and apparently I’m important enough that someone sent Finnick Odair to convince me to talk about my abusive marriage on camera — but not important enough to know when or if anything in my life will actually change. Or to get medication for my pain. Or a crib for my two-month-old.”

Juni had been sleeping in the stroller seat for over a week now.

They didn’t have even one of those travelling cribs?

Something? Anything?

“I…” Doctor Sara began, then faltered, her cheeks reddening. “We can arrange that. A crib.”

Luna just watched her without a word.

So it took asking for them to do that? Not seeing the 2-month-old sleeping in a stroller seat from day one?

Lyme cleared her throat.

“Have you given any thought to what we proposed to you?” she asked, giving Luna a hesitant look.

Luna took in a deep breath, her ribs aching with the effort.

Given any thought? It had been all she thought about since they returned to their dormitory yesterday.

“Yes,” Luna said. “I’ll do what you want. But I need to know the plans. All of them.”

“Of course,” Lyme nodded quickly.

But Luna didn’t let her continue.

“No,” she cut in, her voice as firm as she could make it. “I will not have anything thrown at me without warning. I won’t show my children. No one is coming into this room. I want every part of it laid out for me, and I will approve it. And if anything changes — anything — I will walk away.”

The interviews she’d given the Capitol had been nightmares. People dressing her, painting her, turning her into a doll. Invading her space. Prying at her, trying to wring out every last piece of her — every word, every image, every inch of pain they could package and sell.

It wasn’t going to happen again.

If they wanted her to speak — if they wanted to use her — it would be on her terms or not at all.

Lyme watched her face for a moment, but Luna didn’t have an ounce of energy to even attempt a smile. She wasn’t going to pretend they weren’t all there after their own goals.

“I’ll bring a briefing tomorrow,” Lyme said at last. “With who is going to speak with you, the topics we want to cover, the location, and all the details.”

Luna exhaled.

Good.

“If you would allow me,” Lyme added, a little softer, “I could go through your clothes, maybe find something for you to wear. And if you want someone to help with your appearance—”

And have another stranger grabbing her face? No.

“I’m not going to be another makeup artist’s canvas,” Luna interrupted sharply.

Once again, Lyme nodded — stiffly, but without protest.

“And the clothes?” she asked, almost pleading now.

Luna sighed. It was an interview, after all. Of course, they wanted an image.

“Sure,” she mumbled. “I didn’t bring much, though.”

“It’s fine,” Lyme confirmed. “I’m certain we’ll find something.”

They fell into silence, and from behind, Luna could hear Mum organising the table with the boys — the soft clinks of cutlery, the shuffling of chairs, someone laughing low under their breath, saying ‘thank you, nana’.

“We brought something,” Lyme said again, pulling Luna’s attention back. “Something that might help with your neck.”

Luna’s eyes flicked to Doctor Sara, who raised her briefcase in silent confirmation.

Of course they had.

After she accepted their proposition in front of two people who could confirm it — who could say she promised to do what they wanted.

Smart.

“It’s an anti-inflammatory,” Doctor Sara explained gently. “I just need to apply the injection today, and then another tomorrow, and one on the day of the interview. I can hear your voice is still rough — this might help.”

Her voice.

Of course.

“Sure,” Luna mumbled.

The Doctor moved to the nearest table, opening her case as Luna stepped toward her, Lyme following close behind.

“We’ll take off your brace,” Doctor Sara said softly. “The injection goes into your neck.”

Luna swallowed and stood still, inhaling as Lyme gently removed the brace and cupped her chin to hold her head steady, just like the brace would’ve done.

Then Doctor Sara turned toward her — and in her hand was the long, glinting needle.

One of the boys gasped.

“Mama!”

“It’s okay,” Luna said quickly, her throat rough from having to speak too loud. “It’s okay, it’s going to help.”

She heard the quick patter of feet — someone trying to run toward her — but then the sound of soft interception.

“It’s okay,” Mum’s voice came calm and warm. “Hunter’s going to hold her hand. And we’re all going to close our little eyes and only open them when Mama says we can, alright?”

“It’s a big needle,” Blue whispered, his voice shaking.

“I know,” Doctor Sara spoke softly, with real sympathy. “But it’s going to help with Mama’s pain.”

Luna felt a movement beside her and turned her head slightly — there he was. Hunter, coming to her, slid his hand into hers without a word.

“There we go,” Luna said, squeezing his fingers gently. “I have Hunter with me now!”

She turned her head just enough to face the others, wincing, and Lyme adjusted her again.

“And now we close our eyes,” she told them, her voice tight but trying for calm. “It’s just going to be a little prickle.”

Doctor Sara’s fingers touched her neck, cool and gentle, feeling along the muscle with a knowing touch.

“Everyone, eyes closed,” Doctor Sara warned. “And four… three…”

The needle slid in at three, not waiting for one, and Luna tensed as she felt the burn of the liquid spreading under her skin. She bit back a sound of discomfort.

Not the worst pain she’d ever felt by far, but not pleasant either.

“Two…” the doctor finished calmly, pulling the needle free. She gave the spot a firm press, then rubbed it gently before stepping back and returning to her suitcase. “One. Done.”

All at once, a chorus of tiny sighs filled the room — and one little gasp in particular made Luna’s heart flutter.

And despite the sting still blooming in her neck, she let out a soft, surprised chuckle.

“And we’ll just put the neck brace back now,” Doctor Sara said gently, “and it’s going to help with the pain in no time,” she fastened the brace as she spoke, her voice light. “With a mother so brave, it doesn’t surprise me that you’re all such courageous boys.”

Luna smiled faintly, letting her finish the adjustment.

“You should start to feel some relief from the worst of the pain in a few minutes,” the doctor continued. “The medication takes a bit to fully kick in, but it’ll ease over time.”

Luna exhaled, low and steady.

“Okay,” she said.

Better than nothing. Better than this.

Doctor Sara gave her a small nod.

“I wanted to check on the kids as well,” she added. “Ask a few questions, especially about school.”

Luna eyed the boys, squeezed together around the small circle table, each with their little portions in front of them — a plate, a spoon, and a closed bowl. Likely fruit. Or, well, dried slices of fruit.

She looked back at Doctor Sara.

“Now?” she frowned.

The woman gave her an apologetic look.

“I’m sure it won’t take long.”

Luna sighed. Of course. These people only ever worked on a give-and-take system.

She walked over to the boys, and Blue was already moving, standing up and tugging at her hand so she’d sit on his chair. He climbed into her lap without waiting for permission.

“Do they have blueberries, Mama?” he asked, peering suspiciously at his covered bowl.

Luna glanced at his little plate — as always, portioned down to the gram — and let out another soft sigh.

“I don’t think so, baby. But I’ll make sure they check,” she lied gently, pressing a kiss to the back of his head. “Why don’t you eat, hm? You said you liked the…”

She looked down at his plate.

Chickpeas?

“Chickpeas and lentils, a few days ago,” she finished.

It wasn’t a lie. He really liked the way their lentils were served.

Blue moved to eat, eyeing the doctor with mistrust as she came to speak to them.

“I was,” he confirmed, picking up a spoon and poking the chickpeas like they were suspects. “But I wanted blueberries too.”

“I’ll make sure to ask if they can bring them next time,” Luna said, even though she knew she couldn’t promise that. Not really. But Blue didn’t need to know that. “Eat slow, baby.”

Doctor Sara stepped forward, hovering near the table.

“I won’t keep you long,” she promised. “I just have a few questions, mostly about how the boys are settling in with their studies, and what they learned in school… we’re hoping they could join classes after your interview.”

Luna adjusted Blue on her lap and looked over at the rest of the table. Some of the boys were listening, others were more interested in their dried fruit, clearly pretending not to be paying attention.

Doctor Sara hesitated for a moment, then pulled a small notepad from her coat pocket.

“We set up some learning groups,” she said, keeping her tone casual. “Not quite classrooms — more like workshops, organised by age groups. Nothing too formal just yet, since we can’t provide a full education under… these circumstances.”

Luna just watched her. So, no conventional schooling then. That sounded like the recipe for a disaster.

“Could I ask how they were learning before?”

She ran her good hand through Blue’s hair, feeling him start to relax again as he focused back on his lentils.

“They went to school,” she said simply. “All of the boys, except for Dash. Everyone can read, and Blue is a bit ahead for his age — not quite at Lex’s level, but close. They’re both learning letters, tracing, numbers…”

Doctor Sara nodded slowly, taking notes.

“I believe they’d be a good fit for our Alphabet class,” she offered with a smile. “Every day, after lunch until four. It helps kids with shapes, letters, basic math and writing.”

“That sounds nice,” Lex spoke up.

Luna glanced at him — he was very focused, his baby blue eyes sharp on the doctor.

Lex loved learning, she was certain he missed it a lot.

“You can bring the youngest boy as well. Once a week, children under three are integrated into the group,” Doctor Sara added gently. “But I’d understand if you choose not to. Even at home, many parents wait until their children are fully weaned and potty trained before starting.”

“He can use the bathroom normally during the day,” Luna replied. “I was working on getting him out of pull-ups at night, but…”

She trailed off. There was no need to explain.

No one quite spoke for a moment, and Doctor Sara cleared her throat.

“Children tend to regress a little when they go through trauma and big changes,” she said simply.

Yes. She’d seen it in how Blue had gone back to being her velcro boy, clinging again, the independence she’d been nurturing slipping away.

“We have a middle group too,” Doctor Sara continued, “for children between seven and ten. It focuses on teamwork and preparing them for future responsibilities. They’re introduced to a variety of skills — along with continuing their education in math, history, physical activity… and collaboration.”

Luna frowned slightly.

“Responsibilities?”

“Well,” Doctor Sara began, “starting at eleven — or ten if the student is excelling — we introduce classes focused on training their skills for the future. I started training to be a medic at ten, but until I was twelve, I had access to other tracks too. Farming, hunting, engineering… that’s where most kids go. Though…”

She trailed off, gaze drifting toward the window. Her expression went distant, far away.

Luna studied her, carefully.

Those sounded… strange. Yes, medics were trained everywhere, but engineering? That was District 3 — Technology. And farming? That was District 11, crops. Or District 9 with grain.

How could someone from one place be trained across such wildly different professions?

“What district are you from?”

She wasn’t from Two, that was obvious. She didn’t speak like them — didn’t look like them either.

Doctor Sara turned to look at her, her eyes softening suddenly.

“Thirteen,” she said.

The noise around the table stilled.

Luna glanced at the boys — the older ones were all staring at the doctor now, their spoons forgotten, hands still.

“There’s no Thirteen,” Hunter said slowly, confusion colouring every word. “There are only twelve districts.”

District Thirteen was destroyed. Everyone knew that. It had been wiped out in the war — eighty-nine years ago.

Doctor Sara looked at him — and smiled.

“Well,” she said lightly, “someone should go tell us that because I’m pretty sure we don’t know we’re not supposed to exist.”

They all kept in silence, and Luna kept staring at her.

No, that…

How…

She remembered the footage. District Thirteen, broadcast constantly. Flattened buildings, charred concrete… just ruins left as a warning.

How could it exist?

But, well, the woman was standing right in front of her at this moment.

“Anyway,” Doctor Sara continued as if she hadn’t just reshaped their reality. “Your oldest boys will eventually move into those later classes. Because of our current situation, they’re offering more general knowledge now — no specialisation just yet. But they’ll get to learn alongside people already doing the work. Cooks, medics, communications specialists… and of course, soldiers.”

Luna’s gaze flicked toward the boys, and she caught the look Prince threw Hunter, even as Hunter stayed laser-focused on the doctor’s every word.

Luna swallowed hard. She tried not to let the glare show, but no—

That wasn’t good.

“I’m sure there’ll be more options once things settle,” Doctor Sara went on. “Eventually there’ll be travel between districts. Movement. Industries expanding beyond just one place. In thirty or forty years, this whole system will be nothing but a memory.”

No one said anything.

Doctor Sara stood with that stiff little smile still fixed on her face.

Lyme cleared her throat.

“The plan is for the children to join the classes after your interview is aired,” she explained. “We believe it’s the safest option, considering… everything.”

Luna just stared at her.

Of course.

Of fucking course they did.

All these people still thought she was some kind of double agent — some desperate plant dragged into their compound with her fingers clenched around her husband’s dead body and blood on her hands that wasn’t even hers.

Did they think she choked herself?

That she grew hands twice the size of her own, just to strangle the breath from her throat?

Crushed her own windpipe until she couldn’t speak for a week?

She didn’t say anything.

Instead, she turned her attention back to Blue, who was still eating his lentils carefully, spoon by spoon.

“How will the class adapt to Blue?” Luna asked quietly.

School had never done much for him — not really. If it had been up to them, they’d have shoved him into a crowded classroom and expected him to sit still, act like every other kid, and hide every little difficulty. Just like she had.

They were a lot alike, she and her boy. But his experience was still his own.

He was bright — already reading books, writing his name, and reciting the alphabet from memory. He could count just as well as a child years older. But even with all of that, Blue struggled. Following instructions didn’t come easily. Certain noises could overwhelm him. And those messy, hands-on activities — sand, slime, wet textures — he hated them. Just like she had.

Luna could read people. She’d learned to watch for moods, tones, shifts in the air. But Blue couldn’t — not yet. And children? Children could be cruel when they sensed differences.

She’d hired help before — a tutor to sit beside him in class, to guide him, shield him. It was one of the only things she’d been grateful for, being married to a victor. No one dared tell her no, back then.

“Well…” Doctor Sara began slowly, clearly searching for the right words. “It’s a small class. With your boys, there will be five children in total. Maybe… take it slow? Let him ease into it first.”

“Or don’t send him at all,” Mum cut in, her tone even.

Luna turned to look at her.

Mum simply lifted a spoonful of grains to her mouth and chewed — calm, unbothered, eyes fixed on the doctor.

She swallowed, set the spoon down, and spoke again, her voice steady in the quiet.

“Because we don’t know how long we’re going to be here. And it already took us a full week just to get him the slightest bit used to our new routine.”

She tilted her head slightly.

“So now you’re suggesting we spend… what, ten days adjusting him to another routine? One that will vanish the moment we’re released? Then we’ll be out there scrambling to build something new again?”

Luna looked back at the doctor.

“We’ll stick to keeping him at home,” she said. “But thank you for the offer.”

A long silence followed. Doctor Sara nodded — slowly, stiffly.

“Of course,” she replied. “I can write him an excuse.”

“I can find you some materials,” Lyme added. “Things that might help.”

Luna hummed in quiet agreement, and Mum cleared her throat.

“That’s very kind of you, Lyme. Thank you.”

No one said anything else after that. Only the soft sounds of the boys eating, and sipping water, filled the space.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Lyme stood.

“We should leave you to eat in peace,” she said. “Thank you for welcoming us.”

“I’ll walk you out,” Mum offered, already on her feet.

Luna watched them go, her eyes drifting back to the boys as she swallowed — instinctively bracing for the usual pain.

But it didn’t come, not as bad as before.

Oh.

So the medicine worked.

She let out a soft hum, brushing her fingers lightly over her shoulder, pressing just enough to make herself wince.

Alright.

Not perfect. But better.

Blue had scraped the last of his lentils and the rest of his food into his mouth by then, and Mum was already reaching for his plate. Luna helped him open the little bowl of dried fruit — dried peaches, sweet and wrinkled and probably a huge luxury around here.

It was a small portion — maybe a third of a peach if she would eye it. But it was something. It was nice.

“Come on, Blue,” Mum coaxed, gently nudging him closer to her side. “Let your mama eat her food.”

She placed Luna’s plate in front of her — heated rations, lentils likely cooked in a pan as tall as she was. Surviving food.

Meat, she supposed, went to more important people. She hadn’t been served any since arriving — instead, there were lentils, beans, chickpeas, and a strange white square of… something?

It was cooked. Slightly nutty.

She was glad not to be facing it two days in a row. Just the hefty portion in front of her was enough — they clearly wanted to fatten her up. Keep the two babies still breastfeeding from her fed and thriving. No one had said that out loud, but Luna could tell.

At least they cared about the children.

District 13.

Her eyes shifted toward Mum. Her brow furrowed.

District 13 was destroyed. It couldn’t exist.

And if they weren’t…

Well.

It made sense, didn’t it? That they would do this — hide, rebuild, wait?

But why wait nearly 90 years?

President Snow was much weaker now — that much Luna knew. He was in his 90s, probably closer to 100 than anyone else in any district ever reached. Maybe they were waiting for that. For his grip to loosen. For him to name a successor and step down.

But that never came.

He was still the president. Still clinging to power.

Cato had said many victors were involved in this.

So it had to be widespread, didn’t it? This movement — it was big. Bigger than she'd imagined.

And of course, she wouldn’t know. Why would she? She barely spoke to anyone. She barely left the house.

If they’d taken over this centre… where else were they?

How far did this go?

She’d never thought of it. Not once.

Luna ate without thinking — just mechanical movements.

The plate emptied quickly, and she was actually surprised to find it was gone when she reached for another spoonful.

Oh.

Mum came over and took the plate from her hands.

“How are you feeling?”

“Tired,” she mumbled.

Now that her stomach was full, everything in her went heavy. Her belly, her shoulders, her neck, her eyes…

“Doesn’t surprise me,” Mum said, resting a hand gently on her back. “You didn’t sleep at all last night.”

She leaned in without thinking, and her mother reached for her hair, pulling it back softly.

Before she could begin braiding, it was Prince who stepped up beside them.

“Can I do it?” he asked. “Braid it?”

They both paused.

“Of course,” they said together.

“Let me show you, honey,” Mum told him gently.

Luna stayed still as they moved carefully behind her, the familiar sensation of fingers brushing through her hair — parting, weaving — slowly easing the tension from her shoulders. Her body relaxed under their touch, and before she knew it, her eyes were already closing.

She nearly fell asleep at the table.

Mum tugged her up with a soft hand on her arm.

“Alright, that’s it,” she said, decisive but kind. “To bed.”

Luna groaned.

“The kids,” she protested.

“Oh, half of them are old enough to help me watch the other half,” Mum argued. “To bed. Go on. You deserve at least a nap.”

Well, her body didn’t give her much room to argue.

It was only when Luna woke up that she finally saw the result of Prince’s braiding — and it was… endearingly particular.

A little wonky. A little crooked.

A beginner’s braid. She shouldn’t be surprised.

Of course, Luna didn’t take it out until she absolutely had to brush her hair again. She wouldn’t squash his interest.

The next two days passed quietly, each one just as exhausting as the last.

Around midday the next day, Lyme arrived with someone else — not Doctor Sara — to give Luna another injection of medicine. This time, she also brought a briefing about the upcoming interview.

Finnick would be the one interviewing her. They wanted to show her some pictures, but reassured her they wouldn’t film her body — something Luna hadn’t even realised was a possibility, having her injuries shown to the cameras right there and then, in front of those strangers.

Lyme took one of her dresses for cleaning — a sundress, light and airy, with her arms left bare. It wasn’t her favourite, but she didn’t hate it either.

She brought some shoes too and spoke in a low voice to her mother about something Luna couldn’t quite catch.

On the third day, the day of the interview, she had to be ready by lunchtime.

She slipped into the sundress, and Mum was the one who brushed her hair, braiding it in the style of their district. A bun, tight twists wrapped with careful hands. Luna could feel Prince watching every motion. His eyes were locked on Mum’s fingers as if memorising each twist, each tuck, each pin as she wrapped the braids around it.

They’d asked him to come. More than that — he’d begged. Begged her to let him be there.

And it was something in his eyes — that fierce, steady pain — that had made it impossible to say no.

It was how he ended up in some clothes the rebels provided for him, his blonde hair slicked back. He looked… strange. Older.

Far too old.

It made Luna ache.

Her boy had grown up too fast.

She kissed each of her babies carefully before leaving.

Juni’s little belly was full — Mum could hold the fort as long as she didn’t get hungry again. And if she did, Luna could simply come back. They could wait.

She said goodbye to the boys, hoping for the best, and Lyme arrived, gave her the last injection, and they set off for the filming.

It wasn’t far — still within the centre, less than five minutes of quiet walking. It felt more like walking into a basement than an interview.

The room was empty, and plain, with chairs arranged deliberately: two in front of the cameras, two behind.

One person was manning the equipment, but that was it.

And Finnick

He stood in front of it all, the only splash of ease in such a sterile space — a charming smile on his face, looking like he belonged anywhere but here. His clothes matched Prince’s as closely as they could. Probably to help him blend in, and soften the lines.

“Luna,” he said, gently. “What a pleasure to see you.”

She breathed out, settling as he came to stand before her.

“Finnick,” she returned.

Prince stepped up beside her. She turned her body, catching the way he looked up at Finnick — cheeks a little bit pink, shoulders all tense.

“This is Prince,” she introduced softly. “My oldest.”

“Prince?” Finnick blinked, momentarily puzzled.

Of course — that wouldn’t be the name on any Capitol record.

But the confusion passed quickly, melting into warmth.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Prince,” he said with a smile. “I hear you’re a very brave young man.”

Her baby boy blushed a little deeper.

“I try,” he mumbled, shy.

Oh.

It wasn’t often she saw Prince like this — small again, unsure.

“The bravest,” she confirmed softly, squeezing his hand.

Finnick smiled at them, reassuring.

“I know Lyme’s already gone over the briefing,” he said, motioning toward the setup, “but I want to show you a few things before we start.”

Luna followed, keeping Prince close, his hand still in hers.

She hadn’t realized how much she needed that touch — grounding, solid.

If Mum weren’t with the little ones, she’d want her here instead.

“We’ll be using these chairs,” Finnick explained, gesturing. “And the cameras will focus just on us.”

Luna nodded quietly. Yes, she was familiar with cameras — though that didn’t make anything easier.

“We also have a monitor,” he said, turning slightly. “It’ll be facing away from us to start.”

He gave a soft nod, and the woman behind the equipment pressed a button. The screen slowly rotated to face them. Luna caught her own face reflected back, stiff and too pale.

“But when it’s time to bring up the photos,” Finnick continued gently, “I’ll turn it back to us. Only if you’re okay with that.”

Luna inhaled slowly.

Was she okay with it? No.

Did she have a choice? Not really.

But at least it would be turned in her direction — not Prince’s.

“Of course,” she mumbled.

“I know Juniper is in the room nearby,” Finnick said. “Soldier Jones is on watch, and he’ll call you immediately if she needs anything. Or your youngest boy.”

She nodded, feeling her throat tighten.

“There’s no rush,” he went on. “If you need to breathe, drink, pause, take something for the pain — anything — we follow your pace.”

Luna exhaled again, slowly, rubbing her thumb over the back of Prince’s hand to soothe herself.

Well.

In the grand scheme of things, this was the least terrible way it could be done.

At last, Finnick turned to her, giving her a gentle smile.

“Can we start?”

. . .

Next Chapter: Epilogue (4/5)

. . .

Luna had heard the comparisons before. She knew what people saw when they looked at them.

Even here, it hadn’t taken long for someone to make a comment. One of the soldiers had called Mum her ‘mother-in-law’, assuming she was Cato’s mother instead of hers. Mum had to correct them, to insist Luna was her daughter.

But she knew the truth. She looked more like Cato’s mother than her own, and no matter how much she denied it, the world had already decided what it wanted to see from the moment their family stepped into that centre.

Luna patted Dash’s tiny back gently, his warm little body nestled against her as he clung to her immobilised arm, hand curled right around hers, holding on tightly even as he dozed.

His eyelids fluttered, drooping for a moment — only for his eyes to snap open again, determined to stay awake.

Luna chuckled softly.

Stubborn little boy.

“Go to sleep,” she whispered, rubbing his palm.

Dash simply grinned up at her, a sleepy giggle escaping his lips. Luna shook her head, smiling despite herself.

The other kids were fast asleep — only Dash remained awake, nestled in her arms.

He was doing better. It was good. He deserved to be doing better.

Mum and the boys had taken over many of the little things she usually did — playing, helping with meals, tidying up. Prince had become an expert at brushing Blue and Dash’s teeth, standing watch as Lex managed his own. And Mum… well, no one would ever guess her age by the way she threw herself into play, lifting and tossing the boys as if her bones were made of iron.

Luna tried to rest as best she could, to heal and recover, and leave this all behind.

No one had said how long they would have to stay in that place, but it felt like goddamn forever now.

Luna breathed quietly, waiting for Dash to fally asleep fully before settling him onto her bed and she tucked him in, watching for a moment to make sure he didn’t wake up.

“Here,” Mum spoke softly, giving her a glass of water.

Luna offered a tired smile, adjusting her shirt back into place. Lyme had sent her some clothes — two sets of oversized pyjama pants that barely reached her ankles but had to be pined around her waist with hair ties and pins. Probably stolen from someone who hadn’t made it. But she couldn’t bring herself to care.

They felt better than the thin slips the Capitol had forced on her. Less exposed. More hers.

She emptied the glass and passed it back, then stood up — slowly, carefully — before making her way around the room to check on the boys.

The older ones had claimed the top bunks, with Archie practically glowing when he was included in their ranks. The younger boys were on the lower ones, along with Luna herself. Mum had taken the one above hers.

A few days ago, one of the soldiers had mentioned education — some kind of schooling for the boys, books that would be provided because they couldn’t attend anything.

Luna wasn’t entertaining the illusion that it would be anything different from the Capitol’s methods. They weren’t trying to teach, they were trying to indoctrinate. But it wasn’t like she could refuse the books, and the boys were already getting antsy from so many days locked in this place.

“Did you take your medicine?” Mum asked, moving back to help her.

“Before I lay down,” she told her, her voice still frail. “It’ll help me sleep.”

Her voice was still weak. It was coming back slowly, but she couldn’t speak up much louder than a mumble.

Mum nodded, her fingers gentle as she pushed a stray bit of hair behind Luna’s ear.

“And how’s your back?” she asked, her voice soft. “I think it’s healing nicely, but they’ll need to pull the stitches in a few days.”

Luna nodded.

“Lyme said she’ll do it,” she mumbled. “I still have a few days.”

Mum studied her for a moment as if trying to gauge how much of her act was real and how much was just stubbornness.

“Do you want to go outside?” she offered after a beat. “The weather’s nice tonight. I think it’s just about time for the shift change at the watchtower. That handsome, tanned soldier might be back.”

Luna chuckled.

“Sure.”

They stepped onto the small balcony and almost immediately, she noticed movement in the watchtower, with a soldier fully facing them.

Luna supposed this space was meant for whatever official had once occupied this room, overseeing the training soldiers below — now, it was a space for them to watch her family.

“I used to come here to visit your father when he was in training,” Mum said suddenly, her voice carrying a quiet nostalgia. “You were in my belly for a lot of those visits, you know? Luckily, you weren’t made here,” she gave Luna a pointed look. “We had a little house back then. He’d come home and have dinner with me.”

Luna smiled faintly. Of course, Mum knew this place well.

“I…” she spoke slowly. “We…”

She waited, and Mum pressed her lips together.

“We always wondered how it was for you, at home,” she decided. “Juno always said that there were… too many kids for comfort.”

Luna watched her quietly, waiting.

They were going to have that conversation eventually, she knew it. It had been waiting and brewing for a week now.

“But we always told her it was what you wanted,” Mum continued, twisting her wedding ring nervously. “That you had the resources, that you could have as many as you pleased. The staff could handle the hard work, while you got to enjoy the fun parts of raising them.”

Mum glanced back at the door, glancing at the kids inside.

“We always…” she sighed, shaking her head slightly. “You know, your father adored Cato. He never thought…”

She didn’t finish, but Luna didn’t need her to.

Dad never thought Cato could do anything wrong. He couldn’t imagine a world where his golden boy was anything but a wonderful husband.

Mum turned back to her, searching.

“And I know you planned them, right? Prince, Hunter, Teddy…”

There was something pleading in her gaze, a quiet hope that Luna would keep going, would add the others to the list. That she would assure her this wasn’t as bad as it could be.

She swallowed.

“And Archie, and Sweetie,” Luna added, her voice as loud as it could be — a low, soft addition.

She didn’t speak the names of the other boys, or of Juni. She couldn’t assure her of something that didn’t exist.

Mum closed her eyes, rubbing her own hand.

Luna held the railing, tapping on it.

“When…” she started.

Mum paused again.

“Did you…”

More silence.

Luna waited.

“Was this the first time?” Mum finally asked.

Luna stilled, her fingers stopping mid-tap against the railing.

She had known the question was coming. It was inevitable.

Mum kept her eyes closed, rubbing her hand like she was trying to soothe herself, and Luna breathed slowly.

“No.”

Mum’s breath hitched, just barely, but enough that Luna caught it.

“The party,” she added.

Because she had never said it aloud — she had never told anyone what had happened. The only people who knew were the people who’d seen it!

“The party?” Mum gasped. “When we were there?”

“Right before you arrived,” Luna told her. “My arm and my face.”

Mum didn’t answer and Luna did not have it in herself to look at her face as the silence stretched between them. Her fingers found the straps holding her arm in place and fidgeted absentmindedly, nails grazing the fabric as she braced herself to speak again.

“He convinced me never to mention it,” she said finally, swallowing against the tightness in her throat. “Said it would ruin your day. And then we talked that night, and I just… I wanted you to have a nice weekend with the kids.”

She expected something—some kind of emotion to well up inside her as she said it. Pain, anger, sorrow. But there was nothing. Just the plain, unremarkable truth.

Cato hurt her. Then convinced her to keep it a secret.

“Then he apologised, of course,” she added, as if that made any difference. “And tried to make things nice for the next few weeks.”

A brittle thing close to a laugh almost bubbled up her raw throat, but she held it back. Because that was the pattern before, wasn’t it? Before he put his hands on her.

He would break her down, scream at her, ‘show her where her place was’…  then offer just enough warmth and sweetness and kindness to make her forget how cold and horrible things had been and make her hope whatever was wrong with them could be fixed.

And then, slowly, inevitably, they would settle right back into that quiet, relentless misery she had let herself sink into long before she even realised, because Cato’s misery was inescapable and it contaminated every little thing he touched.

“He was more the… screaming type,” Luna tried to explain to Mum. “He’d get right in my face, yell until I backed down. Until I did what he wanted.”

It was hard to breathe as they settled in her. Her throat ached, both from talking and from everything she just could not speakthe memory of Sweetie’s unbirthday stark in her mind.

It had been a good day. A beautiful day.

And then Cato arrived the next morning, and—

She swallowed, forcing the thought away.

“He never forced himself on me,” she said after a pause. “Never held me down or took what he wanted. He just… convinced me it was his right.”

That was almost worse, wasn’t it? That he never had to use his strength, never had to pin her in place — just wore her down, bit by bit, until resistance felt pointless.

“I managed to put more distance between us after Blue,” she admitted.

The first time he’d tried to touch her after that party, she had practically thrown herself off the bed. Moved so fast that she smacked her head against the bedside table, she bled out everywhere. It would’ve been funny if it weren’t so pathetic.

The idea of those same hands touching her… she couldn’t.

“But once every two months,” she murmured. “Or three. He would wear me down.”

Mum’s sharp inhale was barely audible, but Luna caught it anyway.

“It doesn’t make it less wrong,” Mum said firmly. “It doesn’t make a difference whether he forced your mind or your body. You didn’t want it.”

Luna didn’t look at her, just breathing in.

What was the point? It was long over now. Dwelling on it wouldn’t change anything.

And he was dead.

Mum stayed quiet, but Luna could see the way her fingers clenched, the way her jaw tightened.

“I couldn’t leave, you know that,” Luna told her, her voice faltering, but she had to say. “I couldn’t leave him. I couldn’t leave the kids with him, and I couldn’t just take them with me.”

She didn’t have to explain — Mum had seen it, she had lived it this week. Even with the soldiers keeping watch, even with Mum helping, just moving through the day with so many children to care for was exhausting. It was hard enough now when they had people on their side.

Back then? Alone?

It would have been impossible.

And Cato had power — real power. The kind Luna would never have, no matter how strong she tried to be.

Too many things could have gone wrong.

“And President Snow was watching us,” she whimpered, pressing her fingers against her shirt, gripping the fabric with her immobilised arm. “He made sure we knew it. Sent us letters for every little occasion. He called Cato, and I had to listen.”

She could still see the ink on the page, crisp and precise. Each of the boys’ names listed, one by one.

Each of them a future victor.

Luna squeezed the railing, breathing faster as the fear settled in her bones, nearly suffocating.

What if this didn’t work? What if something went wrong?

Something would happen to them. She knew it.

Snow wasn’t the forgiving type, and he was clinging to life, he might as well live forever.

Mum reached for her hand, squeezing gently, and Luna took a deep breath, eyes meeting with a soldier as he watched them from the tower, unwavering.

Not in front of them. It was enough that she looked like this, they would not have a front seat to her breaking.

They stood in silence, time stretching between them until Mum suddenly stepped away, and Luna blinked for a moment, watching as she disappeared inside. She returned a few moments later with a glass of water, and gave it to her.

She waited, watching closely as Luna emptied it, then took the glass back, setting it aside before turning to look at her again, her shoulders stiff.

“I… I need to know,” Mum spoke softly, steady but full of so many feelings behind it.

Mum’s hand hovered just above her, hesitant, like she wanted to touch her and comfort her, but wasn’t sure if she was even allowed to.

“Was it… always like this?” she asked, almost stumbling over the words. “Did he always do this?”

Luna breathed in deep.

“Only this time,” she said, then hesitated. “Well. These two times.”

Her mother frowned, confused.

“I made him angry, the day before,” Luna explained, the words coming even lower now.

She’d spoken too much already, the doctor had warned her she should limit the use of her words. But this needed to be said.

“We had a fight. He came home, started throwing insults, and I… I was done,” Luna said, her words sharper now, filled with old defiance. “I told him everything I’d been keeping inside.”

She could still picture his face — red with fury, his voice hoarse from screaming at her to shut up, shut up, shut up. But she hadn’t.

She had stayed quiet for far too long. He deserved to hear all of that before he died, maybe it was what would haunt his afterlife if there was one.

“He beat me raw,” she admitted, her tone flat. “Kicked me. Did everything he could to shut me up… If the boys hadn’t walked in—”

Luna broke off, her throat tightening.

Not from pain. Not from fear.

But because they had seen it.

Her sweet boys, her babies had watched their father do that to their mother.

Mum took her hand again, and Luna let her.

She could have died that day.

“The next night, he came home,” Luna continued, her voice quieter now. “And he was frantic. He attacked me again. Put his hands around my neck.”

He’d lifted her clean off the ground like she weighed nothing!

“Then Prince came in,” she said, voice wavering just slightly. “I had to get him off of him. That’s why my back is all cut — I broke the mirror.

Mum inhaled sharply, fingers tightening around Luna’s. She could see she was trying to steady herself, to not cry.

“Then Prince grabbed a sword. Cato’s new sword,” Luna went on. “And they fought. I took the sword.”

She exhaled.

“I attacked him.”

The memory was still very much alive. The weight of the sword in her hands, the sheer force behind her swinging, the way the blade stuck in Cato’s body—

She could still feel it.

Luna was pulled it by little sniffles, and when she turned to Mum, her heart clenched at the sight.

She was trying so hard not to break.

She grabbed her hand without even thinking, trying to comfort her, and Mum squeezed her even tighter, and she moved so quickly she barely saw it, wrapping herself around her tight.

Luna didn't even think of resiting, she let herself be pulled into her mother’s arms, held tight. The pain in her body was nothing compared to being held by her.

This was her mother.

And Luna couldn’t remember the last time she had been held like this.

Still, she stiffened, the instinct to stay still, to keep everything locked inside far too natural for her.

Mum needed this — she needed comfort. This had shaken her, shattered everything she thought she knew about Cato and the last fifteen years.

But it was Mum. She was in Mum’s arms again.

It cracked her, and a sob that had been stuck for years just wrenched itself free from her throat. It came out thin, raw, her vocal chords barely capable of any more sound.

Her whole body shook, wrecked as she clung to her mother like a lifeline, like leaving her meant sinking right back to her past.

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “It’s okay, baby. You’re safe now. I got you. He’s gone.”

Luna cried and cried like she had never cried before. She sobbed like a baby, had to be guided back to her bed.

He was gone.

Cato was gone. He was dead.

Whatever happened, whatever came next…

Cato was dead.

She had gotten rid of him. He would never come back. He would never haunt them again.

Mum gently petted Luna’s hair as she took the tablet from the little table between their bunk and the one Blue was sharing with Prince. Luna placed the square under her tongue, ignoring the disapproving look her mother gave when she realised how tiny it was.

It was best she thought the doctors weren’t caring for her enough, she would never let Luna save up the pain medicine like she was doing.

Mum’s fingers brushed her hair back, pushed it out of the way.

“I’m sorry,” Mum whispered, her voice breaking. “I’m so sorry.”

Luna could only watch her, unable to speak, only sob and shake.

“I shouldn’t have let you go,” Mum whimpered softly. “Shouldn’t have let them rush you into a marriage so soon. I shouldn’t… I did so many things wrong with you.”

Mum blinked, tears spilling down her cheeks.

“I let him into our house,” she whispered, still shocked. “I allowed him into our lives.”

Luna grabbed Mum's hand, pressing a kiss to her palm, shushing her as best as she could.

That was fifteen years ago. Nearly sixteen. It was long gone.

She had only been trying to be a good mother, letting Luna have a boyfriend, letting her live the life she thought was right.

They couldn’t know.

Mum exhaled, watching her, then pressed a long kiss to her forehead, and Luna felt the warmth of her breath, the soft tremble of her lips.

She didn’t go to her own bed, and just.

Mum adjusted Luna’s pillows, tucked Dash in closer, checked on Juni, and then settled right by her side.

Her fingers ran through her hair as she started humming something softly, an old song someone had sung somewhere.

“Deep in the meadow, under the willow,” she sang softly. “A bed of grass, a soft green pillow.”

Luna breathed in deeply.

When was the last time Mum had sung to her? When was the last time it was just then?

“Lay down your head and close your eyes, and when they open, the sun will rise.”

She couldn't help a little smile as she rested on the bed, clinging to that littlest bit of peace.

“Here it's safe, here it's warm…”

She fell asleep before she even heard the rest of the song.

The next days dragged on, slow and suffocating.

But there was one upside.

After nine long days, Lyme had finally arranged a way for them to leave their quarters, to stretch, to move.

It was a relief — for all of them — but especially for the boys, who had all grown restless and difficult to soothe. Their routine had been completely shattered, their lives were upended overnight, and they had been confined to a single room for over a week.

Luna couldn’t blame them. She was going crazy too.

The first two days outside, it had just been their family and Soldier Jones. A cautious, contained step forward.

Today was different.

Today, there were other children outside.

On one hand, Luna knew how important it was for the boys to socialise, to have some sense of normalcy again.

On the other…

She hadn’t forgotten the way they had been welcomed that first day. The cold looks. The whispered words. The hostility.

Luna watched as Blue and Dash kicked a little ball between them a few feet away, their little laughter light against the hum of chatter around them.

The other boys, however, stayed close, their eyes darting toward the other children but making no move to approach.

Luna adjusted Juni in her wrap, shifting the fabric so the late afternoon sun could warm her tiny face. The baby stirred slightly but remained content, her small fingers curling near her cheek.

Mum nudged Sammy and Sweetie, her voice light but firm.

“Look at that. Those kids over there playing with a ball.”

The boys said nothing, just side-eyeing her.

“Aren’t they your age?” Mum pressed, giving them an encouraging smile.

Sammy squinted at the group.

“…Yeah?” he answered slowly, clearly not convinced.

“Then go play with them,” Mum urged. “Go on, go.”

Neither of them moved right away.

Luna bit the inside of her cheek, watching their hesitation, and reached for both with her free hand.

“Go,” she told them, soft. “It’ll be fun.”

Sammy moved first — he always did, the more outgoing of the two. He grabbed Sweetie’s wrist and tugged him along, leaving Luna to exhale in quiet relief. A moment later, Lex bolted after them, their ever-loyal shadow.

Luna was still watching them go when a sudden burst of movement made her jump. A girl dashed up to Archie, smacking his back with a triumphant shout.

“Tag! You’re it!” she declared before sprinting away.

Archie froze, glancing at Luna, then at Mum, his expression caught somewhere between confusion and excitement.

But instead of chasing the girl, he spun right away and made a beeline for Prince.

“Tag! You’re it!” he announced, slapping Prince’s shoulder before taking off.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Luna laughed.

Prince never ever refused to play with his little siblings.

And still, he looked at her and then at where Archie had gone, as if asking for permission, and it was so sweet.

“You’re it!” she reminded him, couldn’t even help the laughter that came out of her reply as he scrambled after him, diving straight into the game of tag.

It hurt her back and her neck, but it was worth it.

Her amusement was cut short when a deep, authoritative voice cracked through the air from the speakers.

“No playing outside the marked zone! Failure to adhere to regulations will result in disciplinary action.”

Luna turned to the source, laughter fading, and Soldier Hawthorne was lowering his radio, his expression hard and unfriendly as his eyes met hers.

He hadn't moved from his spot, a few steps away, rigid and watchful — their escort for the day.

Luna knew well him enough — Hawthorne was one of the soldiers who disliked them the most and he never kid it at all.

She swallowed and looked away. So much for a carefree afternoon.

When she glanced back at Teddy and Hunter, they were both glaring at him very angrily, and her stomach twisted in response. She reached for them quickly, brushing her fingers over their arms.

It wasn’t worth it. He hated all of them already, glaring would not help.

“Why didn’t Jones come this time?” Teddy asked, still staring straight at Hawthorne. “He’s much nicer.”

“Nice is a stretch,” Hunter corrected, his voice deliberately loud enough to carry. “But at least he’s not rude to a bunch of kids just trying to have a minute of fun.”

Luna sighed, petting his hair.

“Soldier Jones probably has his own job to do, just like Soldier Hawthorne is doing his,” she reminded them, keeping her tone light but firm. “And speaking of playing — what are you two doing standing here instead of having fun with the other children?”

Teddy and Hunter exchanged a glance.

“We’re with you,” Hunter raised his chin.

“Me?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.

“And Juni,” Teddy added, crossing his arms with a stubborn tilt to his chin.

Luna couldn’t help grinning.

“I didn’t know I was a princess in a tower,” she teased. “Where's the dragon?”

Teddy’s eyebrows shot up, and Hunter’s mouth opened, clearly ready to answer, but Mum was faster.

“It’s a rhetorical question, Hunter,” she interjected swiftly, gently. “A joke. It doesn’t need an answer.”

Hunter snapped his mouth shut, frowning and pouting, while Luna turned to Mum with a soft chuckle. Well, that was familiar. Mum had done the same thing to her when she was younger.

Before anyone could add to the conversation, Lex came flying to them, breathless and terribly mischievous, and he barely paused before smacking Hunter on the back.

“Tag, you’re it!” he squealed, already spinning on his heel to sprint away.

Hunter’s eyes widened in brief betrayal before he did exactly what Archie had done earlier — he turned straight to Teddy and passed it on.

“Tag, you’re it!”

And just like that, they were off running.

Luna adjusted Juni in her arms as she settled onto the nearest bench, keeping one hand steady behind her baby’s back for support. When she looked down, Juni was already gazing up at her with wide, curious eyes.

“Hi, baby,” Luna cooed softly.

Juni’s lips stretched into a toothless grin, her tiny head lifting just a little more as if trying to see her face more.

“Hi, my baby,” Luna whispered, running a gentle hand over her little back. “Did you miss my voice?”

Juni let out a sweet little coo, gripping Luna’s shirt with her small hands, making her heart grow thrice it size. She petted Juni’s back as her baby continued her happy little sounds to every word of hers.

A shadow fell over them. Luna glanced up, finding Lyme stepping to Mum.

“Loba,” Lyme greeted.

“Lyme.”

They exchanged a brief look before Mum’s gaze flickered to Luna. A silent moment passed, and then she gave a small nod and stepped away, heading toward Blue and Dash to join them in the shade.

Lyme lowered herself onto the bench beside Luna.

“Luna.”

“Lyme.”

“It’s good to see you in such a good mood,” Lyme observed with a small smile. “And with little Juniper.”

Juni turned her head toward the sound of her name, still beaming, and Lyme — rarely one for soft expressions — allowed herself a small smile in return.

“How are you feeling?” Lyme asked.

“Better,” Luna replied honestly. “It’s a slow improvement.”

She was still in pain and there was no medicine to be delivered, so Luna was just riding it out.

The days were easier than the nights.

It wasn’t as bad as the first days, but it wasn’t easy. She would need much rest after this outing, it would certainly make the pain in her back, neck and shoulder grow. Even holding Juni would probably become too much at some point soon — so she was enjoying this time with them.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you,” Lyme said, her voice measured. “About a favour.”

Luna inhaled sharply, steadying herself as she glanced down at Juni, who was still watching Lyme with bright-eyed curiosity, fascinated by this new presence in her space.

That felt quite familiar, didn’t it?

She was half-sure she had heard those exact words in that exact tone fifteen years ago.

“We…” Lyme started slowly, choosing her words with care. “We’re in a strong position with the rebellion. Our forces are growing, people are joining us, we’re becoming stable…”

Luna’s eyes flicked toward her, still unable to turn her neck.

“You know, the Capitol… they have their favourite faces,” Lyme continued, her tone hesitant as she pointed subtly to Luna.

Luna felt the weight of the pause. Lyme took in a deep breath, steadying herself before continuing.

“You were always one of those faces, maybe because you were such a rare sight.”

Luna’s jaw tightened.

“I was not a willing sight,” she snapped.

Lyme fell into silence. She already knew the truth, the truth that clung to every part of Luna’s being. Those interviews, the photos, the label the Capitol had slapped on her: The Capitol's Delight.

Luna had never wanted any of it. It was forced upon her. Lyme had been the first one to use her, when Luna had just discovered she was pregnant, back when Cato had been in the arena. They had decided — without asking her — that using their relationship would give Cato an edge over his competitor, the boy from District 11.

“I know,” Lyme murmured, her voice softer now. “It wasn’t your choice back then. But that’s why I’m asking you now — to offer, not to command.”

Luna exhaled slowly, shifting her grip on Juni. Her baby had lost interest in their conversation and was now playing with the fabric of her wrap.

“And what exactly are you asking?” Luna pressed.

Lyme hesitated for only a second.

“You know how powerful an image can be,” Lyme said, her voice purposeful.

Luna said nothing, her body tensing. She knew exactly where this was going.

“Your image…” Lyme continued, trailing off as if testing the waters, “it can be incredibly powerful. Especially now. The Capitol may have forced you into their spotlight, but that same recognition could work for us now. It could help the rebellion.”

Luna tensed, feeling her heart dropping to her belly.

“You want to use me.”

Of fucking course.

Lyme didn’t miss a beat.

“I want to help the rebellion win.”

She was glad she couldn’t move her neck, she wouldn’t have to pretend to want to look at her as Lyme spoke.

Luna kept her eyes on the children playing tag, her stomach twisting. She had spent years being paraded around, shaped into whatever narrative best suited the Capitol’s needs. And now — now the rebellion wanted to do the same?

“The people need to know what the Capitol does to victors,” Luna said quietly, her voice hard. “How they use us. How they break us into pieces, make us dance for their amusement, lay for their pleasure, then leave us to rot. How that pain seeps into our families, into everything we touch.”

She exhaled slowly, words stinging her tongue, but the bitterness was familiar.

“How they turned a favourite into someone willing to kill his wife and son?” she spat, her voice sharp and clipped, unable to hold back the fury anymore.

Lyme was silent for a moment before leaning in slightly.

“Luna,” she said, her voice steady, “I was the first person to see your state.”

Luna glanced at her, finding her expression darkened.

“I’ve never been so shocked in my life. I never thought someone could turn their hands on someone they claimed to love and do such harm. And if people saw what I saw…”

She trailed off.

Luna waited, her jaw tightening. If people saw what she saw, what? The anger would turn to pity? The Capitol’s people would suddenly feel compassion for someone from the districts? After nearly ninety years of the Hunger Games?

But Lyme didn’t finish her thought.

Instead, she exhaled and shifted slightly.

“You don’t have to do it,” she said finally. “No one will force you.”

Luna barely had time to process that before Lyme added-

“I spoke with some of the officials. We believe we might be able to secure another week’s worth of medicine for you. In a few days. If you agree.”

Luna instinctively moved to turn her neck and look at her, but a sharp pain shot through her spine, the brace holding her in place and she held a pained whimper.

Fuck.

"Perhaps something a bit stronger as well," Lyme added. "We can’t spare morphling, but… a higher dosage of what you were already using is possible."

Luna didn’t respond.

So that was their strategy, then. Take advantage of her pain, of the way it gnawed at her every waking moment, to push her into doing what they wanted.

"You don’t have to answer now," Lyme said, standing. "We’ll talk tomorrow. You can tell me then."

Luna exhaled slowly, adjusting Juni against her chest, eyes straight on the boys, unwilling to give Lyme the satisfaction of a reaction.

But still, her stomach twisted and flipped in all directions as Lyme walked away.

She watched the boys playing, laughing, kicking and punching the ball back and forth, trying to keep it in the air. She exhaled slowly, forcing herself to breathe. To calm down.

Of fucking course they were asking this of her. As if everything she’d already endured wasn’t enough.

But she didn’t even have time to dwell on it — someone was already approaching her again.

She looked up, expecting Lyme or maybe even Mum, but instead, she found herself staring at him.

Finnick Odair.

Tall, broad-shouldered, sun-kissed as always. Finnick fucking Odair.

Luna didn’t even react at first. She just stared.

"Hello, Luna," he greeted, flashing that famous smile. "May I sit?"

She kept staring.

What the fuck was Finnick Odair doing in front of her?

Her body tensed on instinct.

This couldn't be good.

"Sure," she mumbled

He settled beside her with an ease that was almost mocking, as if this were just a casual chat between friends and not a ploy to move her.

“I’m Finnick,” he said smoothly, flashing another one of his easy smiles. “I’ve heard many great things about you.”

Luna had to force her body to shift, wincing as she turned enough to look at him.

“I’ve sculpted you…” she paused, searching her memory. “Twelve times. Two busts of your face, three of your face and chest, and seven full bodies. Nine of them were gilded.”

The other three couldn’t afford gold.

Finnick smiled, looking either pleased or amused.

“I know,” he said, his voice dipping into something softer. “I’m quite familiar with your work. It’s admirable — I’ve never seen such talent before.”

Something inside her warmed at the words, despite everything.

Well. That was… very kind of him.

“Thank you,” she breathed out. “I didn’t know you were a rebel.”

“Always have been,” Finnick said, his voice low and steady. “From the moment I saw the Capitol for what it really is and experienced them with my own life.”

Juni squirmed in her wrap, searching for the voice speaking nearby. Luna shifted slightly, adjusting so her daughter could see Finnick.

“And hello,” he greeted warmly, his voice turning gentle. “Who is this beautiful little one?”

Juni wriggled, her tiny hand pushing out of the wrap, and to Luna’s surprise, Finnick immediately offered her his finger. A grin spread across his face when Juni latched on, gripping it with that baby strength.

“Juniper,” Luna introduced her. “She’s my youngest.”

“Hello, Juniper,” Finnick cooed, his tone full of exaggerated admiration. “Aren’t you the sweetest? And you look just like your mother. I hope I’m not intruding on your time together — I know you have quite a few brothers who cherish every second with you.”

Luna just watched him carefully.

So many compliments, so much charm... just another person sent to coax her into doing what the rebellion wanted.

“She’s very precious,” Finnick affirmed, looking up at her face again.

“She is,” Luna agreed.

Finnick nodded, his grin lingering as Juni curled her fingers more tightly around his. His other hand rested loosely on his knee, his posture relaxed — but Luna could tell. This was calculated. He was patient. He was waiting for her to settle, waiting for her guard to lower.

“She’s strong,” he noted, glancing up at Luna. “A good grip.”

A pause. Not an awkward one, but deliberate. He wasn’t pushing. Not yet.

“She’s lucky to have you,” he whispered, tilting his head a little. “All the children are. I was told, very vaguely, that you were the one who took Cato down.”

And there it was. Another soft approach. Another attempt to sway her.

“Yes,” Luna confirmed simply.

The silence settled between them for a long time, until Finnick cleared his throat.

“I am truly sorry for what happened to you, Luna,” he affirmed. “I only met Cato briefly. Even during the Games, we never really spoke or spent more than a few minutes in the same room.”

Luna watched him carefully, waiting for the rest.

“What he did to you is unjustifiable,” Finnick continued, his gaze steady. “And your response was the most logical thing. In your place, I don’t know if I would have been brave enough… but I’d hope the people in my life would be.”

“Thank you,” she mumbled.

Juni was still playing with Finnick’s hand, fascinated by the way his fingers moved, and Luna rubbed her daughter’s back without thinking, focusing on her.

Finnick hesitated.

“Did he… did he ever talk about the Capitol to you?” he asked. “About what he did there?”

“About them buying him?” she cut in. “Endlessly.”

His shoulders sagged slightly before he caught himself, straightening up again.

“It was his favourite thing to rub in my face,” Luna continued, voice flat. “How much he took for me. So I could live a good life.”

As if any of that had ever been her fault.

“It’s awful,” Finnick affirmed. “Truly awful, what they did to us.”

Luna paused. The word settled in her mind, sharp and heavy.

Us.

It didn’t happen with just Cato. It shouldn’t shock her, of course it was a big system of human exploitation. And still…

“They did to you?” she asked, surprised.

“Yes,” he confirmed, his voice steady. “And Lyme. Enobaria — you must know her. Mags, my mentor, for many years… until she got married and had her children. Then she became less desirable. Lyme, too. She seemed glad to fade from the spotlight. But practically all of us — at some point — were sold. Some once or twice. Some, many times over the years… like me. Like Cato.”

Luna swallowed down, holding Juni a little closer to her, the threat that Cato had hovered over her head making itself known again.

Her children being a part of that system. Being forced into that nightmare.

“It’s horrific,” Finnick said, his voice quieter now. “My experiences were… well.” he let out a slow breath. “And I’m certain his weren’t much better.”

“They weren’t,” she mumbled.

Cato had thrown it all in her face more than once. The way they loved seeing him act like an animal. Some pre-historic beast, taking them violently. Some liked him bending and submitting for their entertainment. How they laughed as a man like him was forced to kneel, to lick floors, to press his lips to polished shoes.

And worse things too, things that she never wanted to recall.

“The rebels… we’re planning to hijack a transmission,” Finnick told her. His expression didn’t change, but there was something determined in his eyes. “I’ve already recorded my own statement. I talked about what happened to me, about the people who did it. The way they paid me with their secrets. The way they used me.”

Luna took a deep breath. Finnick slowly withdrew his hand, giving Juni space as her tiny face pressed into her mother’s chest. Luna adjusted the wrap, hoping she’d drift off to sleep.

“A lot of people have lived through what I have,” Finnick continued, his voice steady but weighted. “And we believe telling the world about it is going to make a difference.”

He exhaled, loudly, chuckling.

“It was… nerve-wracking, really. A little humiliating, to say aloud things I tried so hard to compartmentalise. I stepped out sweating like I’d been running for an entire day. And it was just as exhausting.”

Luna watched him, waiting. Yes, it sounded exhausting.

“But it’s worth it for me,” he said firmly. “People see someone they feel a connection with. They learn the truth about the evil they once cheered for. And I’m just one man. I can fight for myself, and I’m only fighting for myself.”

He glanced at her then, his expression unreadable.

“But you… you have nine little boys and a little girl,” he said. “Children the entire Capitol was hyped about meeting someday. The day your eldest stood for his first Reaping, I remember the cameras being on him the entire time. Caesar gushed about how much he looked like his father. And the same when your second boy came of age.”

Luna swallowed, unable to meet his eyes, and the bitterness spread thick on her tongue.

“They were already obsessing over them,” Finnick murmured, his voice quiet but sharp. “When they were nothing more than children. Innocent. Supposed to be out of their reach. All the while, they suffered because of them,” he added, his tone laced with something close to anger. “All the while, you — on your own — protected each and every one of them with everything you had in you.”

Luna blinked, trying to steady herself and to keep the fear from swallowing her whole. But her eyes burned anyway, hot with tears as that old, familiar terror pressed against her ribs.

“Suffering. Hidden. Alone,” Finnick said, his voice quiet but relentless. “All while they upheld the system — the very system — that caused your pain. That caused their pain and endangered them. You protected them with your own body. And now? They tell me you’re still trying to protect them, even when you’re hurt. Even when you’re hurt!”

She clutched Juni closer, as if holding her daughter could anchor her.

Did he think she would do anything different? That what she had done — what she was doing—was extraordinary?

These were her children. It was her duty to keep them safe, to ensure their lives were good, that they would never feel the weight of what she had suffered.

“You killed a man easily three times your size!” Finnick exclaimed. “For them!”

He let out a short huff of a laugh, shaking his head.

“You’d kill me for them. You’d kill Hawthorne over there,” he added, nodding toward the other man, his words laced with something almost light. But there was no mistaking the truth beneath them. “And you’ve made so many sacrifices for them, Luna. I know that.”

She sucked in a sharp breath, a tear slipping down her cheek before she could stop it.

“Don’t you think it’s time people know?” Finnick pressed, his voice quiet but urgent. “That they know the truth? What the Capitol does to good people? To a good mother who was only trying to protect her children — who nearly died because of their system, their actions?”

His green eyes burned with conviction as he leaned in just slightly, gaze locked on hers.

“That you’re seen as more than the Capitol’s Delight?” he asked, voice dropping almost to a whisper. “That people finally see the woman you truly are? A good mother who had to protect her children from their own father because to the Capitol, they were nothing but collateral damage?”

Luna swallowed hard, her throat tight. She gripped Juni just a little closer as if her daughter alone could steady her shaking hands.

She didn’t respond right away. Couldn’t.

Finnick let the silence stretch between them, but he didn’t look away. He just watched her, patient. Expectant.

She had spent so long being silent. So long keeping her head down, keeping her children safe, swallowing her own pain because there was no space for it — not when there were so many little lives depending on her.

But…

“I don’t need their pity,” she murmured, looking away.

She had received enough pity for a lifetime.

“This isn’t about pity,” Finnick countered. “It’s about power.”

“You took down Cato,” he reminded her. “You fought your way out. But the Capitol still owns the story,” he gestured, frustration flickering through his expression. “They can twist it. Make you into whatever they want you to be. A damsel in distress, kidnapped and held for ransom. A victim who needs saving!” his voice hardened. “They can use your image however they want — if you let them.”

Luna clenched her hands.

“This is your chance,” he pressed, voice unwavering. “To protect your children in the biggest way possible. To show everyone who you truly are — not whatever they made you to be.”

She raised her free hand, quickly wiping her face, trying to steady herself.

“I still need to think,” Luna warned him, her voice firm despite the weight in her chest. “This isn’t a decision to be made like this. You of all people should know that.”

Did they think they could push her into a decision like this in five minutes? Ten?

“Of course,” Finnick agreed easily, but he didn’t back away.

Luna took a deep breath, closing her eyes for just a moment, trying to collect herself. But before she could exhale, Juni let out a small whimper, pressing her face against Luna’s chest. The sound grew into a sharp, hungry cry — an honestly perfect cue for him to leave.

Finnick nodded solemnly to her.

“It was an honour to meet you, Luna,” he said. “I hope our paths cross again. I’ll give you privacy.”

Her mother approached swiftly, her gaze lingering on Finnick as he walked away. Luna focused on soothing Juni, waiting for help — she could do little on her own with the braces restricting her movements.

From the corner of her eye, she caught a shift in the room. Soldier Hawthorne silently stepped back as well, moving away to watch over the children instead of hovering over her shoulder.

She couldn’t help the pain that irradiated through her as they both worked on moving Juni and Luna into a doable feeding position, the weariness starting to set in her already.

It was going to be a long night.

. . .

Next Chapter: Epilogue (3/5)

. . .

She tried to whimper, but the sound never fully formed in her. It burned all the way up, a level agony that stole even the smallest noise from her throat.

“It’s okay,” he said quickly. “It’s okay, you don’t have to move. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Luna tried to swallow, but even that was impossible.

It fucking hurt.

She closed her eyes, forcing herself to breathe through the pain as her cheeks felt wet.

They were in the car. The kids were asleep. She couldn’t wake them. She wouldn’t.

When had Prince moved to her side? He had been seated in the back.

“We stopped,” he told her softly. “That’s why you hit your head.”

Luna clenched her jaw, squeezing his hand as she tried to look out the window, but before she could make sense of where they were, the door of the car opened, and she flinched, gasping.

Even that was painful.

“Is everything alright?” Lyme asked, voice firm, assessing everything.

“Her neck,” Prince answered quickly.

Lyme’s breathed in deep, soundingly.

“We’re at a medical base,” she told them. “Someone will take a look at it. And at all of you.”

Prince turned to face her fully right away.

“We’re fine,” he said. “We’re not leaving her.”

Lyme exhaled, and Luna could hear her voice softening, like it always did when she spoke to the boys.

“You don’t have to leave her. We’ll all go together. I’ll stay with you.”

Luna closed her eyes and patted Prince’s hand lightly, reassuring him the best she could.

They had to go. It was best if they followed.

Gathering the boys was an effort.

Lyme settled Juni into her stroller, and Luna was surprised when Jones pulled Dash’s stroller from the back of the car — she hadn’t even known they had packed it. He attached the two at the side like he knew exactly how stroller was made. Both her babies were just fast asleep, little chests rising and falling peacefully, like nothing had happened and the world was at peace.

The older boys took over the younger ones, each grabbing a little hand and keeping them close. Jones and Lyme led the way inside, while two soldiers trailed behind them, as if escorting criminals instead of children.

Someone approached Lyme, speaking something in a low voice to her. She nodded sharply.

“Thank you,” she said before turning to Luna.

She moved her eyes to her, forcing herself to sit up as straight as possible to avoid the worst of the pain.

“Your mother is on her way,” Lyme told her, her tone gentler than before.

Luna exhaled sharply, blinking when her eyes sudden turned blurry and her eyes stung.

Mum was coming.

Mum was coming and… she was going to see her like this?

She tightened her fingers on the stroller handle, feeling them shaking, and they stopped at a door guarded by a pair of soldiers. The two barely spared them a glance as Lyme pushed it open, gesturing for the boys to get inside.

Prince stood at the threshold, letting Sammy’s hand go and ushering the younger boy inside, and she could see his lips counting them one by one as they came in. It was only when he stepped in, waiting for them at the door, and Lyme pointed the way to Luna to come in too.

Jones followed for a few steps before stopping before turning his back to stand guard at the door, quiet as ever.

Luna wasn’t sure if that made her feel safer or more unsettled.

The doors shut behind them, and her eyes landed on a woman across the room. She had just been smiling at the boys, looking very warm and sweet — until she saw Luna.

The smile faltered.

She forced it back, but Luna had seen the moment of hesitation, the flash of something — pity, most likely.

Before she could dwell on it, another door opened, and two more people stepped in, their eyes scanning their little group.

“You must be the Hadleys,” the first woman greeted, trying to keep her smile on her face.

Prince came quickly to Luna’s side, and she could see from the corner of her eyes as he squared up.

The woman still smiled warmly, her voice gentle.

“I’m Doctor Sara, but you can all just call me Sara. I heard you had a very long trip from another city.”

Luna felt a small body press against her side, arms wrapping around her waist, and reached down, smoothing a hand over Blue’s hair as he tucked himself behind her.

“You must be very tired,” Dr Sara continued, her tone soft. “So we’ll be quick, okay? Just a routine check-up to make sure everyone is alright. And we’ll take a good look at your mother too.”

“She’s hurt,” Sweetie said firmly somewhere beyond Prince, sounding very stubborn.

Doctor Sara nodded, glancing up at Luna, and she could see how hard she was trying to keep a straight face.

“I know,” Sara acknowledged. “Commander Lyme told us. But I’m sure your mama wants to make sure you’re all okay, too. Right?”

Luna exhaled, shifting slightly. The boys instinctively moved with her, rounding close, little hands seeking hers out. They had seen doctors before, but this… it was different.

Dr Sara offered them a gentle smile.

“How about one of you go first?” she suggested. “And I’ll show how it is, and you let my friend help, too?”

A man stepped up to her side, giving them all a soft smile.

“I’m Doctor Martin,” he introduced himself, his gaze sweeping over the boys with quiet attentiveness. “I assist Doctor Madison.”

Good. At least they had enough people to care for the children properly. That was something.

Luna reached for Prince’s hand quickly, giving it a squeeze.

The others always followed his lead. If he went first, they would do it without questioning.

Her eldest stepped forward quietly, standing tall despite how tense his shoulders looked, and she could clearly see the anxiety in his eyes.

“She can’t speak,” Prince said firmly. “And I’m not leaving her.”

Doctor Sara didn’t so much as blink.

“Of course,” she agreed easily. “We’ll do it here, don’t worry. And you are…?”

“Prince,” he answered.

Martin retrieved a tablet, looking for something for too long of a time, and Luna saw the shift in her son’s jaw when he realised it.

“They call me Cato at school,” he mumbled. “And in the Reapings.”

Martin nodded, tapping the information into his tablet.

“Prince… and Cato,” he repeated, glancing up at him. “Do you prefer one over the other?”

Prince hesitated, shifting slightly on his feet.

“Prince,” he said at last. “But they don’t call me that outside.”

Doctor Sara’s face softened.

“Well, we’ll call you Prince here.”

It hurt it in her heart when he squared his shoulders, as if bracing for something horrible.

Instead, Doctor Sara gave him the kidest smile and gestured for Prince to sit on the examination table, and he hesitated only for a moment before taking the seat, still all stiff, but his eyes focused right on Luna as everyone watched.

“First, I’m going to listen to your heart,” she held up a stethoscope, and moved it to his chest, under his shirt. “I’ll just listen here for a moment. You might feel a little cold, but it won’t hurt.”

Prince nodded stiffly, but Luna could see the tension in his posture ease a little as Doctor Sara continued, her voice as calming as a stranger could be.

She knew how to work with kids, Luna had to give her that.

“Now I’m going to listen to your back,” the doctor continued, moving it. “You’ll feel it on your shoulders for just a second… if you can take a deep breath in for me…”

Prince inhaled deeply, his shoulders rising, and then released the breath slowly as Doctor Sara listened, her eyes flicking to the small screen on her tablet as she noted something down.

“Good,” she said, her smile faint but encouraging. “You’re doing great.”

Luna petted Blue’s hair and rubbed a little back in her reach, though unable to see which one of her boys was by her side.

She reached for her pocket, taking a thermometer.

“Now, I’m just going to check your temperature,” he placed it in his ear, the device giving a quiet beep a few seconds after. “Perfect. Everything looks normal.”

She continued on, describing every activity very gently as the boys listened along. She checked for reflexes — and explained why and how she did it — weighted him, checked his height — Luna’s exact height, to the last inch — and checked his abdomen while Martin took notes.

When it came to his arm, Doctor Sara cleaned it very carefully, checking for any shards or anything wrong, before applying fresh dressings to his cuts.

“And we’re finished,” she declared with a bright smile, looking at the kids before she turned to Prince. “What do you think? Was it alright?”

Prince nodded.

“Perfectly fine,” he mumbled.

Doctor Sara beamed at Luna, her expression soft even if her eyes were full of pity.

“A very healthy young man,” she affirmed. “Just some scrapes, nothing to worry about.”

Luna exhaled a breath she hadn’t realised she was holding. Good. That was very good.

The room fell into quiet as Doctor Sara moved on to the next child — Hunter, then Teddy, Archie, and the rest. Luna stayed close, watching each one with her heart still racing, the pain keeping her as still as a board.

She was just weighing Lex when the door opened a bit and Jones peeked into the room to look at Lyme.

“Mrs Elletra is here,” he announced. “May I let her in?”

Luna inhaled deeply, closing her eyes as a shiver ran through her, her lower lip trembling. Her eyes filled with tears once again.

Mum didn’t know anything.

She didn’t know about Cato’s behaviour. The yelling and breaking things, the outbursts, the way he’d controlled everything...

She didn’t know how badly their marriage had fallen apart.

The one time she had a chance to tell her mother, to share the truth about how Cato had hurt her — physically and emotionally — she had lied instead. And now, after over two years apart, the first sight her mother would have of her would be this, this broken shell of a person, covered in bruises, unable to turn her neck or speak.

“I’ll go speak to her,” Lyme said quickly, and she gave Luna a short look. “And I’ll come in with her.”

Luna could only lower her eyes, unable to respond or to do anything but sit there, small and powerless.

She had never felt this helpless her whole fucking life.

Prince reached for her hand right away, squeezing it gently.

“It’s okay, mama,” he mumbled. “I can talk for you.”

Luna squeezed his hand in return, but she could hardly acknowledge the comfort he was offering.

The two doctors exchanged a glance but said nothing, and Doctor Sara turned her attention back to Sammy, who had just finished his examination.

“You are a very tall and strong boy!” she exclaimed with a smile, very bright. “You have to tell me what you eat!”

“Mama’s food!” Sammy announced proudly, his chest puffing out with pride. “She makes the best food!”

Doctor Sara chuckled, glancing up at Luna.

“Well, that does not surprise me!” she affirmed. “Look at all of you, you’re all very healthy! I have never seen a group of so many healthy brothers.”

The compliment, though kind, did little to ease Luna’s heart. She gave the woman a tight smile, fingers tightening around the edge of the chair as Lex stood up with an eager expression on his face.

“And how may I call you, young Mister?” Doctor Sara asked, her tone soft and inviting.

“I’m Lex,” he answered confidently. “My teacher calls me Alexander.”

Doctor Sara nodded warmly, patting the seat in front of her.

“And when were you born, Lex?”

Lex frowned for a moment, deep in thought and after a beat, his face lit up.

“The 30th of June!” he declared proudly as if he had just solved a grand mystery. “Of eighty…”

He paused, squinting as he tried to work through the numbers in his mind, and Luna raised three fingers discreetly, and Lex caught the hint.

Eighty-three.

He always mixed it up with eighty-two.

“Eighty-three,” he corrected himself with a satisfied grin. “I turned six last month!”

Doctor Sara’s eyes widened in surprise, clearly impressed.

“Six? And you are that tall and smart?” she asked, voice just filled with genuine affection. “Wow, that is awesome!”

Lex beamed, soaking in the praise, his chest puffing out with pride, and for a moment, Luna felt a bit of warmth in her chest as she smiled at little at him.

“Alright, Lex, let’s check on that strong heart,” Doctor Sara continued, pressing the stethoscope gently against his chest. She listened for a moment and then nodded approvingly. “Just as I thought, a very strong heart. Excellent.”

She shifted it to his back.

“Take a big breath for me,” she instructed softly.

Lex inhaled deeply, his shoulders rising, before letting the air out in a slow exhale.

“Perfect. One more time,” she encouraged, her voice calm and steady.

Luna shifted slightly, reaching down with her good arm to rub Blue’s back. He had somehow climbed into her lap, clinging to her tightly, his little hands grasping at her overalls. She ran gentle circles along his spine, but his body was still tense against her. Her poor boy was terrified.

“You’re next, Blue,” Prince said gently.

Blue shook his head immediately, whining.

“No,” he mumbled, pressing his face against Luna’s chest. “I don’t want to.”

She looked down at him, wincing when she tried to do so.

Luna glanced down at him, wincing as the movement pulled at her neck. She knew this reaction all too well. Blue hated change. He hated strangers. And more than anything, he hated people touching him.

He was just like her.

Luna's heart twisted as Blue clung to her, his small hands gripping her shoulder desperataly. She couldn’t speak — couldn’t even form words to comfort him. The air she tried to push out of her throat came out in a barely audible sound, andthe pain in her neck and shoulder was so sharp that if she could have screamed, it would have been a cry of agony worse than anything she had cried during labour.

Blue’s small sobs filled the space instead, his little body trembling in her lap, unwilling to let go, and her eyes filled up with tears of pain in many ways.

"I want Mama!"

Prince reached for him, but Blue resisted with every ounce of his strength.

"No! I want mama!"

His hands tightened on Luna's shoulder, tried to hold him a little more firmly, doing her best to calm him while holding her pain, pushing Prince away.

Hunter was quick to step in, kneeling in front of Blue.

“Hey, hey,” he said softly, reaching out to try to steady his little brother. “Blue… Blue, mama’s hurt, okay? Mama is hurt.”

Luna could barely focus on the words. She wanted to tell Hunter to stop guilt-tripping Blue. Of course he was misbehaving, he was four and fucking terrified!

But she was in so much pain, and they were pulling and pulling and all she could go was try to hold herself together, squeezing the edges of her seat and squeeze her eyes shut.

“I want Mama!” Blue repeated, his voice louder and piercing her ears.

Prince reached out to take one of Blue’s hands, but her boy only squeezed Luna tighter, burying his face in her neck.

“The doctor needs to see Mama,” Prince explained, trying to reason with him. “And we need to help her. You’re not helping!”

Luna could feel every inch of the battle inside of her boy. He was scared and stressed and confused, and it was all directed at the one person who could comfort him: her. Prince and Hunter couldn’t understand that — they were too young, they weren’t Blue’s parents, they were his brothers and still children.

So with the energy she still had left, Luna shifted Blue in her arms, pulling him close to her chest, and she closed her eyes as he clung to her, tiny body shaking with big sobs.

She used her free hand to push Prince and Hunter away and give Blue the space he needed, even if her own body screamed with the effort. Her neck was burning, she couldn't move her shoulders, but she didn’t resist. If she had to hold him through it all, then she would.

Blue was four, and reasoning with him would do nothing. She knew that. So, even as she not even breathe, she held him.

“We can give him a moment,” Doctor Sara spoke up, making Luna look up at her. “Your… second youngest?”

She reached for Hunter blindly, patting his arm, urging him to go help them, and he was the one to make his way to Dash in his stroller.

Her baby boy clung to Hunter right away when he picked him up, small arms wrapping tightly around his older brother, and Doctor Sara’s smile was reassuring as she looked at her brave boy.

“You’ll be my assistant now, I see,” she told him, still cheerful and encouraging.

Hunter nodded shyly, still tense, but Luna could see the way his shoulders relaxed a bit as he adjusted Dash in his arms for her to press the stethoscope to his chest, the praise clearly welcomed.

At the same time, Teddy moved closer to Juni, standing protectively by her stroller, and Luna followed him with her eyes.

Oh, her sweet boy, always so protective.

“Mrs Hadley,” Doctor Martin called softly.

She crossed eyes with the man at the door, overwatching them — a soldier? A nurse? A superior? She wouldn’t know, he hadn’t introduced himself.

“We’re going to need to examine you, after,” he informed her, looking at her boy. “Fully.”

Her throat tightened as she swallowed hard, her hand moving to stroke Blue’s hair to calm him, grounding herself and him.

Yes. Yes, she knew.

She would have to leave Blue eventually, but he would need to be calm.

Luna had to hold her breath as she forced herself to stand up, every movement sending more pain through her body.

It felt like her neck was about to snap any time now, and she had to bite down the agony, focusing on Blue, his tiny fingers digging into her as if letting go would mean losing his mother forever.

She stroked his hair again, seeing how much her hand was trembling, and her eyes burned, blurry, and she swallowed her tears down.

She wasn’t a stranger to pain, she had brought all nine of her boys into this world on her own.

But this was worse. It made her want to fall down and fucking crumble. She needed to rest against the wall to keep straight.

So she comforted him, shifting from side to side as best as she could, patting his little back and petting his hair as she felt the doctors watching them.

It took quite a bit of time to calm him. They finished with Dash and moved on to Juni, and having to watch from afar was even more of a nightmare.

The doctors handled her youngest carefully, but it didn’t matter. They were strangers, touching her baby, measuring her, moving her tiny limbs, and Luna had to sit there and watch. Helpless.

“That’s a good baby,” Doctor Sara hummed as Juni looked up at her, her big eyes very curious. “And when was this beautiful girl with so many brothers born?” she looked at Luna.

The other doctor moving to her, supporting Blue with one hand for her to free at least one of her own and signal with a bit of difficulty, trying to make a J on the air for June.

“July?” Hunter guessed.

“June?” the doctor corrected, glancing at Luna.

She confirmed with a hand and raised a single finger. The first.

“The first of June?” she asked, seeming surprised. “Two months and… a week.”

Nine weeks old, her girl, yes.

“Well, aren’t you a big girl?” Doctor Sara cooed, her voice soft. “We rarely see them this big at your age.”

Luna watched her attentively, replacing the doctor’s hand on Blue’s back with her own, taking a moment to give him full attention.

His breaths were slower now, and his body was heavy against hers, finally fast asleep. He didn’t even flinch and or push that unfamiliar hand away.

Luna let out a breath, shaking. At least for now, he was at peace.

Prince stepped to her, offering his arms to take him, but it was Luna who walked to the table, just pointing with her chin for him to take Juni, and her oldest did, adjusting her with more ease than many parents.

Doctor Sara weighed them both together, then hesitated slightly before offering Luna a tablet.

“You can write his birthday down,” she said gently. “His name and any other details.”

Luna couldn’t nod, but she took the opportunity to type the information down. His birthday — 1st of January of the 85th, her New Year baby — his name and his nickname…

Her fingers hovered over the next section. Known conditions.

Blue had a known condition, as Luna had a known condition.

Doctor Sara’s voice was soft when she spoke again.

“Is it an allergy?”

She looked at her, finding Doctor Sara smiling sweetly.

“Or… more… developmental?”

She mouthed her answer. Developmental, yes.

The door opened, and every head turned as Mum stepped in after Lyme, and for a moment — just a single little moment — the world... stopped.

She stood there, completely still.

Luna felt something tighten in her chest.

She wanted to run to her, to throw herself into her arms like a child, like Blue had just done. Bury her face in her mother’s shoulder and cry until the weight of everything was gone, because mama had her.

She wanted to beg her to make things better.

But she couldn’t move.

She could only stare.

Two whole years.

Two years apart.

Dash had been just a baby the last time they saw each other. Blue had just finished his doctor’s rounds, his diagnosis still fresh, and Cato... Cato had been all frustration and restless energy.

Luna knew he would have made it into the loudest of complaints if her mother wasn’t there. He would talk all about how she’d finally done it, how she’d made a kid as defective as her.

But Mum was home, and Mum protected her, even if she didn’t know that.

“Grandma!”

One of the boys shouted it first, and then the others followed — the older ones, the ones who remembered her.

They ran to her without even thinking, voices overlapping, excited as Luna just watched, holding Blue closer, feeling Lex press against her side, half-hidden behind her, shy.

When mum finally spoke, her voice was warm, but Luna could hear she was holding back everything.

“Hello, hello, everyone,” she smiled to them, clearly forcing the expression. “Hi. I’m so sorry, I… I had to talk to Lyme, but I’m here now.”

She’s been crying, Luna could see. Her eyes were red-rimmed, the skin beneath them was pink.

“Let’s… let’s all sit down,” Mum instructed, her voice steady but gentle. “We can all talk, but I’m here to help your mother, okay? She needs a…”

She trailed off, looking up at Luna.

For a moment, everything flashed across her face — worry and understanding and pain — but then she smiled.

“She needs a hand,” she finished at last.

The boys complied easily, settling down without argument.

“Mrs Hadley?” Doctor Sara’s voice pulled Luna’s attention back. “The known conditions?”

Luna swallowed, her throat tightening and aching as Mum cleared her own.

“Is there anything I can help with?” she offered.

It almost felt like when she was young — when she lost her words and Mum would step like a walking dictionary, understanding her signals without needing to ask.

Doctor Sara glanced down at the tablet.

“It seems… Orion... Blue. It seems he has a known condition?

Mum nodded slowly.

“Yes,” she confirmed. “I know.”

“And that would be…?”

Mum breathed in, and Luna could see the flash of guilt on her face.

It did run on the family, it didn’t start with Luna. Well, not this one.

“It’s… uh… Developmental Variance Syndrome,” she said, clearing her throat. “The Social-Communication subtype.”

Doctor Sara nodded, making note of it without comment, though she gave Luna a short glance.

“He’s smart,” Prince jumped in, defensive. “He just doesn’t like strangers or change.”

Mum reached for him without thinking, taking his hand and squeezing it.

“Exactly,” she agreed. “He’s a very smart boy. He reads at the same level as Sammy. And Sammy’s a big reader.”

Sammy beamed with pride at the praise, and Doctor Sara gave them a tight but understanding smile.

“And has anything changed with the repetitive behaviours and sensory sensitivities since his diagnosis?” she asked, looking at him.

Luna's first instinct was to shake her head, but a bolt of pain just shot over her, and all she could do was grimace and grab the table, the only sound she could produce was an sharp breath.

“It’s alright,” Doctor Sara said quickly,. “That’s not important right now. We can go over those details when he starts school. For now, if you stand still, we can use the tablet to measure his height without putting him down.”

Luna exhaled slowly but complied. It wasn’t like she had much of a choice —standing still was about all she could manage.

Doctor Sara circled around her, carefully scanning and measuring Blue in sections before seeming satisfied.

“He’s somewhere between 110 cm and 112 cm,” she declared. “Quite the tall boy. We’ll subtract your weight from his to get an accurate measurement, but visually, he appears to be in a healthy range.”

Luna took a deep breath, relieved. That was good. Most of her boys leaned on the taller side, except for Sweetie — and he was perfectly average for his age.

The room fell into silence as it seemed that every eye fell on Luna.

It was her turn.

Lyme cleared her throat, breaking the silence that had settled over them.

“Alright, kids,” she called slowly, her voice very careful. “We’ll need a little bit of privacy now. For your mum.”

“Privacy?” Hunter repeated, turning to her.

Both Prince, Hunter and Ted all glared at her as if she was saying the most absurd of things.

“She needs to be examined,” Lyme explained, keeping her tone patient. “The doctors will need space.”

“From us?” Prince asked defensive as his body tensed up, ready to fight.

Luna squeezed her eyes shut, taking in a deep breath, far too overwhelmed to even find words to interrupt them. It was Mum who finally spoke, firm and not giving him space to fight her, in that way she did with the twins all the time.

“They’ll need to look at her,” she explained, emphatic. “Fully.”

But Prince didn’t even budge, clenching his fists at his sides, holding himself in place.

“I’m not leaving her alone!” her oldest fought back.

“Of course not,” Mum replied quickly, as if the thought of Luna being alone was absurd. “That’s why I’m here. And Lyme will help you watch over your brothers with Soldier Jones. No one is going to be alone.”

Her words hung in the air, the room quieting as the tension slowly eased, but the worry in Prince’s eyes didn't go away.

“You can set Juniper and Dash in their strollers, and everyone will watch out for one another,” Mum said firmly, moving to the boys and pulling them along with barely any resistance, not showing a hint of worry in her demeanour or even new to managing kids. “Prince, you can keep an eye on Lex while Hunter holds Blue. And Ted and Archie can watch Sweetie and Sammy.”

“I don’t need to be watched!” Sweetie protested, his little voice rising in defiance. “I’m a big boy!”

Mum raised her eyebrows and simply nodded.

“Of course,” she agreed with a soft smile. “So you’ll help make sure your little brothers stay seated and wait for us, alright? Lyme is going to help, and we’ll be outside in just a minute. But you need to go. The doctors are going to help your mother.”

Sweetie hesitated, his wide eyes searching Luna’s face, and she tried her best to smile, offering him a reassuring expression. It wasn’t easy to push past the pain to comfort him, but she did, watching as each of the boys came to her for a kiss before they left. Luna kissed their temples and hands as she could, her heart heavy, but she tried to mask it with the best calm she could muster.

Handing Blue over to Hunter was the hardest part. Her little boy clung to her, his small hands squeezed her like he knew something was wrong even in his sleep. But Hunter took him gently, and Luna watched him carry her son away, trying to hide the anxiety growing inside her chest. Prince made sure both Juni and Dash were comfortable in their strollers before Mum moved them, adjusting the blankets and setting the stroller to face a wall – away from Luna.

The boys left and the door closed, and it felt like her body had been waiting that whole time to crumble. Her legs buckled under her, her muscles softened, and Luna had to brace herself against the bed so as to not fall, feeling the familiar burn of pain lacing through her body.

Mum was there right away, reaching for her and catching her before she fell down, and a slice of moment, the mask of calm she had been wearing slipped from her face, and she could see pure horror in her. But the moment passed quickly, and she just straightened up and helped her stand fully.

One of the doctors slipped out of the room without a word, and Doctor Sara was left standing still, face tight as her eyes ran over Luna.

She flexed her fingers, opening and closing her hand as if she was trying to ground herself, before forcing a small, strained smile onto her lips.

“Could you confirm your—” she started, then paused again, glancing at Mum. “Her full name and date of birth?”

Mum breathed in.

“Luna Astoria Elettra Hadley,” she said, the last name leaving her mouth with clear displeasure. “Born on the 21st of November of the 55th.”

Thirty-three. This was what she was at thirty-three. What a life.

The doctor just hummed along, taking her notes.

“Any underlying conditions we should be aware of? Diabetes, blood pressure issues, stomach issues—”

Luna looked away and Mum took in a deep breath.

“Developmental Variance Syndrome,” she said, her voice measured but uncomfortable. “Social-Communication subtype. No intellectual loss.”

Doctor Sara looked straight at her, just completely shocked.

It always went the same way. People treated her normally until they saw her file. Then, suddenly, she was twenty years younger in their eyes, spoken to in slow, careful voices, wrapped in layers of unnecessary sweetness. Or worse, they stopped addressing her entirely, turning instead to whatever non-diagnosed adult was nearby as if she had simply disappeared and wasn’t a fully realised adult.

The room fell into silence for a long stretch before Doctor Sara cleared her throat — a forced attempt to shake off her impression of her.

"Well, Mrs Hadley… why don’t we start with that weighting?" she decided, almost too high-pitched, gesturing to the scale. "And measuring."

Luna moved, bit it really felt more like something else was moving her, just pulling her strings and making her go.

She stepped away from Mum, forcing herself to breathe and each step took every effort she could put on it, just staring foward as the machine beeped and scanned her.

“170 centimetres and… 43 kilograms,” Doctor Sara announced slowly, carefully, as though speaking the numbers any differently might soften their reality.

Luna forced herself to swallow as Mum took a sharp breath, quiet.

That wasn’t surprising, was it?

She’d always been small after she married. A little too small. Too frail to fight back, always small enough for Cato to throw her around as he liked.

“That makes Orion 21 kilograms,” she decided, stepping away, and writing it down.

It was why he kept her so fucking stressed she couldn’t swallow more food than what she needed to feed Juni.

"We can certainly work on that," she said, though there was no conviction in her voice. "And... you can strip now, please. I’ll go take a robe."

Luna swallowed hard, the sting of humiliation crawling beneath her skin. She barely heard the words as her mind raced, the dread filling her belly . Mum was already at her side, moving closer and Luna felt her hand on her hair, the gentle motion almost like a reflex, and the warmth of her mother’s touch offered a small comfort amid the chaos of her thoughts.

It took Luna a moment to register what Mum was doing — carefully twisting her hair, attempting to move it out of the way. It should have been comforting, but it wasn’t. If Luna could speak, she would tell her to just cut it.

She hated all that hair, she didn’t need it.

"Do you want my help, baby?" Mum asked softly.

It hit Luna harder than she expected.

Baby.

Thirty-three years old, and she was still ‘baby’ to her mother. Two younger siblings and ten kids later, she was still just baby.

Her eyes filled up with tears again before she could stop them and she had to blink them away again hastly so she would not just break fucking down then and then.

Luna reached for the side of her overalls, trembling as she managed to unzip them, sliding the straps down her shoulders and letting the fabric fall to the floor. Her fingers fumbled for the buttons of her shirt, blindingly trying to find them, and got one undone before the ache in her shoulder became too much, and Mum was the right after, helping her pull it off.

Luna barely had the energy to resist or do the rest, her body was just too tired to do anything but submit as she took it off and then unclicked the pouch with her sculpting tools from her waist.

The room was completely still, deadly quiet as if even the air was holding its breath, and then Mum gasped at the sight of her back uncovered, apparently the straw to break the camel’s back for her.

Luna hadn’t seen her own back. She hadn’t wanted to, so she had left it, forgotten it. In the great circle of pain in her, the sting of the glass cuts was just a little thing.

She didn’t realise Doctor Sara was back until the woman was at her side, holding out a blue robe, her voice soft.

"Cover your front, and I’ll take a look at your back."

She complied, pulling the fabric as best as she could before Mum helped her, hiding at least part of her body before helping her move nearer to the table, unclasping her bra and pushing it away from her back.

“We’ll need to take photos of everything,” Doctor Sara informed her. “We won’t show your face, but we need this.”

Luna didn't acknowledge her, just focused on her breathing. Of course they needed photos. As if it wasn’t enough to feel exposed in front of her mother, now they were going to document it all.

But she didn’t care to wait for her permission or anything, the doctor just moved.

“You have seven lacerations on your back that appear to be from broken glass or a mirror,” Doctor Sara stated in a detached, clinical tone. “One of them is stitched, and three others were treated with butterfly band-aids. We’ll need to provide you with disinfectant over the next few days to keep it clean. Stay still, please.”

Luna held her breath she waited, still as the cold air hit her exposed skin. It as like she was a subject, one of her muses, being photographed into a moment to be remembered.

“On your lower back there’s a bruise in the shape of a shoe, possibly a boot and from being stepped on. Stay still, please.”

Mum turned around to face the wall, covering her mouth with her hands, and Luna lowered her eyes as the photo was taken.

They went through everything — bruises Luna didn’t even know she had, wounds she couldn’t recall, all meticulously noted and recorded. When the doctor reached her neck, Luna winced, every touch sending another wave of pain that radiated through her, but she stayed still, biting her cheek to keep from making a sound.

The doctor’s voice softened just slightly as she murmured a ’probably internal damage’ to her notes.

Well, no shit. Why did she think talking hurt so much?

And then Doctor Sara moved to the front, and Luna endured it, breathing through it.

The claim about not taking pictures of her face had been a lie. They documented every bruise, every wound, and even her eye — Cato had broken a vessel, which explained the blood she saw in the mirror.

When she thought it was finally over, she covered herself, but Doctor Sara just looked at her with pity.

“You can step into the machine now,” she told her.

Luna didn’t have the strength to resist. She let them guide her to the next room and the two men were behind a wall, a mess of cables running from their monitors to the large machine waiting for her.

Dread crawled up her spine as she stared at it.

Mum helped her into position, adjusting the robe tightly around her before stepping back.

Doctor Sara’s voice was almost robotic as she pressed buttons.

“The fabric won’t interfere with the scan. Stand still, and the machine will catalogue your internal injuries — any bones out of place or broken, any organ damage sustained during... the process.”

Yes, the process. That was the best way to describe the act of being beaten up two inches away from death by her husband before being forced to kill him.  

Luna closed her eyes and took a deep breath as the machine got louder around her. It expanded, encasing her whole body, scanning every cell, every injury.

“I’ll get the braces,” Martin said suddenly. “Neck and arm.”

“Yes,” Doctor Sara confirmed.

Luna exhaled slowly, waiting. Breathing. Waiting more. It was what she could do. Until, at last, it was over.

Mum was there right after and not a second late, helping her back into the other room. The moment they were alone, she pulled Luna’s shirt into place, buttoning it up before grabbing her pouch pack, securing it around her waist, and pulling up her overalls to hide it.

Luna mouthed her the word: Protection.

They were surrounded by strangers, and she had kids to protect. It was what she had.

“I know,” Mum whispered. “I wish I’d been smart enough to take something more than clothes when I packed up and left home.”

Luna stilled.

When had she left home? Permanently.

Where even were they? What town was this? Which region?

Where was Dad? Juno? Jupiter?

She didn’t know anything.

“We’re in our town,” Mum whispered, zipping her overalls. “Your father was recruited weeks ago. Your sister volunteered a week later because they didn’t have enough people. I haven’t had news of either of them since.”

Luna stared at her.

“Lyme managed to contact me,” Mum whispered, voice thickening for a moment. “Said you needed me.”

Her eyes filled with tears, but she blinked them away, hands adjusting Luna’s clothes like she could fix something — anything — if she just smoothed out the fabric enough.

The door opened, and they both fell silent as Doctor Sara returned, accompanied by the other one — the man who still hadn’t introduced himself.

“I have good news,” she announced, though it sounded more like a question. “And bad news.”

Well, the surprising part was that there was good news at all. So that was good.

Luna watched her quietly, searching for her left hand to play with her fingers and paused. She wasn’t wearing any rings anymore.

“You have laryngeal trauma,” she began, her voice measured. “A severe bruise. It will hurt to swallow and speak for a while, but you don’t need medical intervention — just immobilisation and rest.”

She waited, quiet.

“You also have a severe rib contusion, which will make breathing painful for some time. When I saw the shoe mark…” Doctor Sara hesitated, “…I was afraid there might be spinal damage, but — well — you were lucky.”

Luna stared at her. Lucky?

Of course. This was a great strike of luck.

“You have a partial dislocation in your shoulder, and we’ll need to evaluate for nerve damage, but we can’t do that right now,” she continued. “You’ll need to keep it in a sling for a while,” a pause. “I truly don’t know how you were holding the kids through this. I... I mean, this is—”

Luna kept staring.

Painful. Yes.

Very painful.

Doctor Sara studied her face, her expression softening.

“If you could give me your finger, please?” she asked gently.

Luna placed her hand on the table, waiting as the doctor clipped a small device onto her finger. The room fell into silence, Mum watching them closely.

Finally, Doctor Sara spoke again, taking it away.

“Another piece of good news — your breathing and circulation are both normal, so you don’t need oxygen therapy.”

“What does she need?” Mum interrupted.

Doctor Sara turned to her, hesitating, swallowing.

“Rest,” she said simply. “And pain management.”

“Morphling?” Mum asked softly.

Doctor Sara shifted, uncomfortable.

“Well, under normal circumstances, yes,” she admitted. “But we’re having some… difficulties obtaining it. I can provide an alternative, though it’s not as potent. And the supply is limited.”

“How long will she be able to take it?” Mum pressed.

Luna watched as the woman’s face fell a little.

“A week,” she said. “It will help with the worst of it.”

“But not all of it,” Mum added coolly.

Doctor Sara looked away.

“It will help with the worst of it,” she repeated as if trying to convince herself. “We can’t afford to splurge, Mrs…?”

“Elletra,” Mum supplied, her voice cold.

Doctor Sara met her eyes.

“Mrs Elletra, I’m doing the best I can to help.”

“And the best you can do is some weak pain medication for seven days?”

Doctor Sara stared at them, her expression pained.

“It’s not weak,” she corrected, her voice careful. “But Mrs. Hadley’s case is… complicated.”

Luna looked away.

Complicated.

“I recommend rest. Plenty,” she affirmed. “A rich diet, focusing on nurturing her and the children. I suspect Juniper is breastfed?”

Luna mouthed a yes.

“And Dash?”

Another silent confirmation.

“Good,” Doctor Sara whispered, relieved. “A rich diet focusing on nurturing you and the two children, privacy, and rest. We can give you an injection now, and we’ll deliver the tablets to your home daily. You are to take them every eight hours, and it does not sip into breastmilk, so it is safe for the children.”

Lune squinted at her, trying to read between the lines.

Daily.

So if anything happened, they could cut off her medication for something else. Someone else, probably — someone more important.

Doctor Sara attempted a reassuring smile, but it barely reached her eyes, unsettled and strained.

“I’m certain your children are going to be excited to see you, and that little boy will be awake and hungry soon,” she gestured to Dash. “But before you go, I do recommend you restrain from lifting them. Juniper is fine, but Odysseus might cause you some pain and… well, the other children might cause your situation to worsen.”

Luna stared at her, raising her eyebrows.

Did this woman have children? Did she see Blue?

How exactly was she supposed to keep a house full of children in check without lifting, carrying, or holding them? Did Doctor Sara think they would just sit quietly and behave because she said so?

“I know it is… hard,” she spoke slowly.

Luna exhaled sharply through her nose.

Hard? That was one way to put it. Impossible was another.

Nine boys, each with their own needs, their own chaos, their own way of climbing into her lap without a second thought. Blue alone would make sure she never got a moment's rest, and Dash was still so little — he wouldn’t understand why she suddenly couldn’t hold him the way she always had.

But Luna didn’t argue. She just stared at Doctor Sara, pressing her lips together as the woman tried to offer a reassuring smile.

"Maybe reserving cuddling to bed and sitting positions," she suggested. As if that would make a difference. “They do look very cuddly.”

The door creaked open, and Doctor Martin stepped inside, not even being able to close it before the boys rushed in after them, running to her.

“Mama!” Lex called, wide eyed. “Are you better now?”

Luna exhaled, softening, and she called him closer to her with her hand. Lex climbed onto her lap without even thinking, little body right against her chest as she stifled a wince as he clung to her. Sweetie was quick to follow, taking her free arm and holding it tightly.

“Did you help her?” he asked fiercly.

Doctor Sara smiled sweetly at them.

“We’re giving your mother some medication in a minute,” she explained, “and Doctor Martin just brought something to help with her neck and arm.”

The boys turned all together, and she could see Martin moving around her from the corner of her eyes.

“Now that you're all here,” Doctor Sara spoke up, her voice firmer now, looking around the children, “I have a mission for you.”

She paused, holding up suspension, and the boys didn’t dare to speak as they waited.

“Your mother needs a lot of rest. And I really do mean a lot.”

Lex’s furrowed brow turned to the doctor, and he glanced at Luna, then back at the doctor, and Sweetie clung tighter to Luna’s arm as the doctor continued.

“She can’t pick up heavy things, or bend and twist,” Doctor Sara explained, her tone gentle but firm. “And she has to be very careful when playing with you kids. No running, no jumping, okay?”

Lex and Sweetie both nodded seriously.

Doctor Sara glanced at Luna with a soft smile before turning back to the boys.

“I know Grandma’s here to help out. You’ll need to listen to her, alright?” she told them. “It’s a big change, but we’re doing what’s best for your mother. So while your mother is recovering, Grandma Loba is in charge.”

The boys nodded all together, and Luna pressed a kiss to Lex’s hair. Oh, that was going to be quite hard.

“You have to remember, she can only take the brace off to shower,” she informed them. “Same thing for the shoulder brace. All of them will need to stay on for the next two weeks, nonstop.”

The boys nodded emphatically, but Luna couldn’t help but feel a heavy weight in her chest as she pressed a soft kiss to Lex’s head. This was going to be so hard.

“I’ll come see her after that, and we’ll figure out what to do next,” Doctor Sara told them. “But until then, no letting her move her head side to side,” she demonstrated gently, “or up and down...” she showed it again. “She can only pick up your baby sister and little brother. If you want to give her a cuddle, it has to be sitting down and very, very gentle.”

The room fell into a quiet understanding as the boys processed this new set of rules, and Martin stepped to her.

"Alright," Martin stpped by her, leaning into Luna, and she stood straight. "I need you to stay as still as possible, okay? This won't be uncomfortable, but you might feel a little pressure…"

Prince, who had been rooted right by her side, moved closer, his bright blue eyes focused on the placing of the brace, clearly trying to learn it.

"It might feel tight at first," Martin continued. "But the brace will help protect your neck while it heals,” he shifted his focus to the children. “It'll make sure your mother doesn't hurt herself more.”

It felt like everyone was watching and trying to lean to put the brace – which was good because Luna had no idea what he was doing.

"The neck brace needs to be snug, but not too tight,” Martin informed the room. “It's important it stays in place at all times. If it shifts, it might cause more discomfort."

"Can you breathe okay?" Prince asked by her side.

Luna smiled softly, reaching blindly for his hand and pressing it to her lips.

It was fine. She was fine.

Martin continued working with the brace, moving to her arm next, slow and grand as he showed the children and her mother how to place it, step by step.

She could feel the pressure of the brace against her skin, but it wasn’t as overwhelming as before. Actually, it gave her some relief — a feeling of of being held together. It was comfortable.

She exhaled softly, allowing her body to relax into the chair, the feeling of not needing to hold her neck up welcome.

“We’ll give you the injection now,” Doctor Sara told her, breaking the quietness of the room. “And then you’ll be able to go.”

“Injection?” Lex asked, his voice full of worry again.

“For the pain,” she assured him. “It’ll help her.”

Lex immediately took her hand in both of his, squeeing.

“It’s okay, mama. We’ll hold your hand.”

“Yes!” Sweetie added, clutching her other hand.

Luna smiled at them, and she wanted nothing more than to cover them with kisses now.

Martin showed her the syringe and she braced herself as he reached for her and pushed up her sleeve up, cleaning her skin.

The pinch was barely noticeable compared to the pain she’d been holding onto, and so was the liquid pushed into her.

“And done,” Martin announced, stepping back with a satisfied smile. “A wonderful patient with wonderful helpers.”

Next Chapte: Epilogue (2/5)