Chapter Text
It was easily the nicest room she had ever been in, that was for sure. The walls were a rather drab stone, but the ornate oak paneling along the ceiling and soft, velvet furniture easily made up for it. She sank into the velvet couch, trying to relax her tensed muscles. Her hands shook, still not getting the memo that she wasn't in front of all of Panem anymore. She pushed herself up, feeling the soft velvet of the couch.
It was, surprisingly, not all that unfamiliar of a sensation. She could remember when she was younger, her mother had a dress from before her depression and days in the Seam, when she was still a rich merchants daughter, that had a velvet collar. Sometimes, when she was younger and particularly stressed, she would run her hands over the soft fabric, relishing how it felt against her calloused skin. The dress, however, had been the first thing to go after her father died.
Despite the memories that rose up, she kept rubbing her hand along the velvet until they stopped shaking, closing her eyes and breathing slowly. The door swung open, and she looked up in surprise. Clint was there, with two Peacekeepers behind him. "Remember, you have three minutes. Make your goodbyes quick," One of them said. The door swung shut behind him, and he walked over to the couch, sitting beside her. She looked at him, and thought it looked like he had aged years in the minutes they were apart.
"So, this isn't ideal." he said, breaking the silence. Kate grimaced. "Thank you though." He hugged her. "I don't know what I would do if Lila was in those games. We both know that she wouldn't have-" Kate squeezed him, cutting him off.
"I'm not Lila, Clint." She pulled away, looking him in the eyes. "I'm not dead yet, so don't start treating me like a dead girl."
His gaze hardened. "You better win in that arena." Her mind went to Peter, and how scared and confused he had looked. To win, that meant letting him die. She couldn't do that, could she? Clint grabbed her by the shoulders, shaking her. "And don't you dare let any sentimentality for that Peter kid get in the way of doing what you have to do, got it?" Her eyes burned, and she could feel something wet track across her face.
"I don't know, Clint." She wiped her eyes, moving a little away from him. She took a second to breathe, rubbing her fingers along the couch. It seemed almost like a lifeline, now. She took a shaky breath, and looked at him, trying to muster some resolve in her stare. "I'll do my best, though," she whispered. It felt almost forbidden to whisper such a dark truth to her best friend. "I'll do my best to come back."
He looked close to tears himself, breaking her gaze and standing up, pacing around the room. He did this whenever he was nervous, or upset, or scared. Kate would guess he was all three at that moment. He ran his hands through his hair. "I'm sorry, I just, I'm having, I'm having some," he inhaled. "Oh my god, I can't." He sat back down on the couch, trying to regain his composure. Kate wondered how much of their three minutes was gone.
"This means you're going to have to hunt for everyone now," she said. Clint nodded, head still in his hands. "My mom too."
"Yeah, obviously." He said.
"Yeah, I know. It's just that if our positions were reversed I might be a little tempted to forget about her." Clint snorted. Kate was glad that the albeit dark joke seemed to have raised his spirits a little. "You should ask MJ and Peter's family for help." He looked at her in surprise, and more than a little contempt. "I know you don't like them very much but at least try to work with them, for your families sake. You have a wife you have to take care of, for lords sake."
Clint blushed. "Fine, I'll think about it. And Laura isn't my wife yet, Kate!" She laughed at how embarrassed he got over Laura. The guy was a mess. A capable one, sure, but still a mess. Completely and utterly.
"Another reason I'll be sure to come back," she said. "I need to be here when you guys finally tie the knot!" He laughed sullenly, as if reminded once again of their situation. He hugged her once more, and she returned it enthusiastically. She didn't know how many more she might get, after all. Their time had to be almost up.
As if her thoughts had summoned them, Peacekeepers opened the door. "We let you guys go a little over, so hurry it up."
"Thank you!" Clint yelled at them.
"God, man, no reason to be that loud. C'mon, we don't wanna get in trouble." Clint stood up and made his way toward the door.
"Oh, and one more thing, Kate." He looked back at her with a grieving expression. "The Capitol loves weakness. Don't give it any." She nodded. He walked out of the room and the door slammed shut behind him. Once more, she was left alone in the deathly silent room.
"Oh, Peter!" Aunt May and Uncle Ben crushed him in a hug the moment they stepped into the room. "We were so worried about you!" Aunt May grabbed his face, inspecting him for any bruises or marks.
"The boy's fine, May." Uncle Ben ruffled his hair. Peter was glad he hadn't run into the room almost sobbing like May had. He didn't think he could handle to parental figures having a mental breakdown on top of him on the verge of one. "How are you feeling, son?"
Peter blinked. How he felt was something along the lines of wanting to go to sleep and never wake up, but he felt like saying that right before going into a literal death match probably wouldn't be great. "I'm doing okay, Ben. Is Stephen okay?" The image of his big brother falling to the ground trying to reach him had been playing on a loop in his head. He felt his throat clench up in fear as he asked the question.
"Oh, he's alright," Aunt May said. "He's here right now, actually, he'll be in after we finish up saying, well..." she trailed off, the unspoken implication hanging heavy in the air.
Uncle Ben cut through the tension. "You're a strong boy, Peter. You can make it out of that arena." Peter looked into his uncle's eyes, expecting to see some sign that he was lying for Peter's sake. Uncle Ben was earnest in his hard-set expression, though. "You're smart too, and you have a good family." Uncle Ben sighed, seeming saddened now. "Peter, you're a boy with strong morals, I know that because I raised you with them. But in there, you need to learn to act against those morals. You're going to need to kill to survive, Peter." He widened his eyes in shock. This wasn't the goodbye he had been expecting.
"Yes, Peter. I'm so sorry. You shouldn't have to be going through all this." She pulled him into another hug, pressing her face into his hair.
"There's gotta be some other way to win these games," he said desperately. He couldn't even began to imagine taking someone's life. Even worse, taking her life. Kate's. She would be in the arena to, and he doubted that she would hesitate to do what needed to be done. "I'm smart, right? I can just hide." Aunt May pulled away and looked at him remorsefully.
"Just prepare yourself for the worst," she said. "That's all you can do now." He nodded slowly. Some part of his subconscious already knew that this would be inevitable, and the other part was beating that train of thought back with a stick.
"Yeah," he said, sitting down on one of the plush chairs in the room. "That's all I can do now." His mind was racing, all centering around one person. The worst situation in his life just seemed to get worse be the second. Kate probably wasn't losing her mind like this, he thought. She was always calm, more or less collected, smart, not to mention rather ruthless. It was a guaranteed that she would make it far in the games.
He was an idiot for not realizing it sooner. "Uncle Ben, Aunt May." they looked at him, May sadly and Ben worried. "There will be a winner from District 12 this year." He smiled. Ben looked proud, and Aunt May looked relieved.
"We love you, Peter." Both of them gave him another hug. The door swung open, interrupting the moment. Really, Peacekeepers had the absolute worst timing.
"Okay, you guys. Wrap it up. Your three minutes are up, it's time for his brother to see him." Ben patted him on the head and May kissed him on the forehead. "C'mon, very touching, but you guys need to hurry it up." They waved to him one last time before they were escorted out of the room, the door closing behind them. The forced grin dropped from his face.
"Sorry, guys," he said under his breath. "There will be a winner from 12." He thought about Kate, how she was so strong and beautiful and human, and cemented his silent promise. "It's not gonna be me."
Whoever Kate had expected to visit her for the Reaping, this wasn't it. "MJ? But why are you- why are you here? Can't you only visit one tribute?" Why did MJ choose her to visit, instead of Peter? She hadn't expected for MJ's friendship to extend so far.
MJ laughed it off, sitting next to Kate. Her expression seemed worn and tired, her lips pressed into a grimace. "I couldn't have you leave without telling you something." Kate looked at her, confused. What could be so important that Kate would give up talking to her childhood friend to tell her? "Peter, well, he's pretty self sacrificing." Kate's eyes widened. She didn't like what MJ was implying at all.
"He isn't suicidal, is he?"
MJ looked at her in surprise. "No, no, that's not the case luckily." Kate relaxed back into the couch. "What I'm trying to say is that he's very righteous, and it's actually rather annoying at times." Both girls laughed a little at that. "And he has very strong morals, so I think the proposition that he'll have to kill people to survive might be very difficult, in fact." MJ looked at her, all humor gone from her gaze. "So he might decide that instead of killing and breaking his moral code, he'll try to save someone else who he thinks is more capable then him."
"No. He wouldn't."
"Yes, he would. And he'll probably try to. If he thinks you have a better chance of getting out of the arena then him, he'll do everything to guarantee that's what happens." Kate rested her face in her hands. It was already terrible that she was going to be stuck in a killing arena with the boy she loved. But to hear that he might try to die for her? It hadn't even happened yet, and she already felt guilty and shameful.
"I won't let that happen," she said into her hands. "I won't let him die for me." MJ grabbed her hands, pulling them away from her face and looking her intently in the eyes. Her usual hard stare had glossed over with what Kate was sure was tears.
"I'm not asking you to die for him, Kate." MJ pulled away, burying her own face in her hands. "I've lost two of my greatest friends today. But neither of you are dead yet. So please, please, one of you, come back to me." Kate fought not to cry herself, repeating Clint's words to her that she shouldn't show the Capitol any weakness. It wouldn't do for all of Panem to see red-rimmed eyes and know she had been crying. Instead, she wrapped her arms around MJ, pulling her into a hug.
"One of us will, Kate." The words felt empty to her. She was in no position to be making such a promise. "I promise." She was stupid, but the quite possible lies seemed to comfort MJ. It struck her then that this was why MJ was so terrified of the Reaping. She wasn't scared for herself, she was scared for the people she loved. And now that worst fear had been validated two times over. "And you still have Ned, too. Is he visiting Peter?"
MJ wiped at her eyes aggressively, as if angry at her tears. "No, he's not, since each tribute can only see three people. His parents and brother are visiting him, though."
"Do you know who else is here to visit me?" She hoped that her mom would pull herself together enough to visit her, but she doubted that her addled brain had even realized that her only child was going to be in the Hunger Games. She almost hoped that no one made sure her mom understood what was going on. Then she might be spared from some of the suffering everyone else would go through, at least.
"Lila wanted to thank you." Kate sighed. Looks like her hope was misplaced. "Your mom didn't take the news well. She's denying that you've been chosen, keeps saying that it's a different girl going into the Games. She started saying that you were already an adult and couldn't be in the Games anymore." She grabbed Kate's hand. Her mother being negligent wasn't anything new, as MJ well knew, but it still didn't make things any easier on her.
"I don't regret taking her spot in the games," Kate said quietly. "I can't even begin to imagine someone like her in the Games." MJ nodded in grim understanding. They sat their for a minute in quiet, before the door opened.
"Okay, wrap it up." The Peacemaker said. MJ reached into her dress pocket quickly, fumbling for something. She pressed a gold pin into Kate's hand.
"I almost forgot! In the arena, every tribute can take something from home. Wear this in the arena, please. To remember us." The pin was of a mockingjay, the birds that frequented the forest where she and Clint hunted. MJ and Kate both knew the Capitol hated mockingjays- they symbolized the perseverance of the rebellion, and how the Capitol created birds had turned against them, and continued to prosper. The pin was an insult, and MJ knew it.
Kate smiled at her. MJ smiled back, looking victoriously rebellious. "When I come back, you need to tell me where you got this." MJ hugged her one last time, and walked out of the room. The Peacekeepers shut the door, but it didn't feel as damning as it had with Clint. Instead, this time, she felt a small amount of hope.
The first thing Peter noticed about Stephen were the crisp white bandages wrapped around his head. Spots of red had bled through the bandage, and he seemed paler than usual. "Oh my god, are you okay?" He asked, standing up and walking over to his brother.
He rubbed the bandage, as if reminding himself it was there. "Oh, yeah, I'm alright. Christine cleared me, said it was just a mild concussion."
"Christine, huh? Must of been tough to see her there after the breakup. Is she still mad?" Christine and Stephen had not parted on good terms, and they were both still pretty upset, even though they hadn't been together for almost three months. Besides, it might be slightly more fun to make fun of his brother's love life then talk about his impending doom, especially after his most recent decision. To die for his possibly unrequited crush, like any respectable teenager. Y'know.
"That is not what we're hear to talk about, Peter." He sat down on the couch, massaging his temples. Peter was sure that he must be getting a terrible headache, in between his brother practically being sentenced to death, getting a concussion, and having said concussion being taken care of by his ex-girlfriend. It almost rivaled his bad day.
"Yeah, I know. Is there anything that we should, y'know, talk about before I leave?" He didn't really like insinuating so strongly that he was going to die, but it seemed pretty unavoidable now. The whole point of the three minutes was too have a final conversation.
"Don't talk like this is our last conversation. I'm sure it's not." Peter nodded. He wasn't sure if he was coming to terms with his inevitable demise or was making a lot of flippant jokes to cope. Stephen didn't need to know that, though. "I do have some advice for you, though. You've already cried in front of the cameras,"
"Okay, ouch."
"Shush, let me talk. You can't play the role of being someone super strong, so your best move to play now is the sympathy card." Peter nodded. He hadn't thought about that angle. Tributes always tried to create a role for them self, the smart one, the strong one, the sexy one, the stealthy one. The list goes on. He couldn't remember any tributes that had played the sympathy card to win over the audience, though. "You need to appear as human as possible to the cameras, so no strong facade. Just seem real. That will grab the Capitol's attention."
"That actually makes a lot of sense, honestly. I can't believe other tributes don't use that more."
Stephen frowned. "No, other tributes do use that strategy. Usually they don't do it well though and come across as weak and sentimental. So, I guess, be yourself, but play to what the Capitol wants to see from these games. But also be unique." Oh, great. Now Peter was developing a headache.
"That's a lot easier said than done, Stephen." Stephen laughed a little, nodding in agreement.
"Oh, and one more thing." Stephen reached into the pocket of his coat, fishing around for something. "Here, take this. It's one of my cuff links." He pressed the ornate silver pin into his hand, the metal shining brilliantly in his hand.
"I thought I wasn't allowed to touch your cuff links," he said quietly. Stephen laughed quietly.
"Well, this isn't really a normal situation, is it?" Peter didn't respond, still enraptured by the pin. "Well, they are very expensive. So it just means you'll have to return home and give it back to me. I'll be very upset if you don't."
"I'll be sure to have it returned, then." Stephen looked at him curiously, frowning at his wording. "Make sure to take care of yourself with that concussion, Stephen. It's gotta be pretty serious if you were bleeding."
"That's not what we're talking about, Peter." Stephen hugged him tightly, like he was afraid to let go. "You better come back with that cuff link." Peter squeezed his hand, the cuff link he was holding pressing into his palm. The slight pain from the cuff link and the overwhelming emotion was enough to make a grown man cry. Or, in his case, a fifteen year old.
"Yeah, I'll be sure to come back. I promise." His stomach rolled and he felt nauseous from the lies. Stephen let him out of the hug, as if satisfied with his answer.
"You better." Peacemakers opened the door and escorted Stephen out. Then the door slammed shut, and he was alone with his guilt and dread once again.
Lila ran sobbing to Kate the moment the door opened. Kate hugged her tightly, unsure of what else to do. "I'm sorry," the younger girl choked out in between her tears. "Clint told me not to but I applied for some Tesserae, it was only three extra name slips, it was only three..." she trailed off, sobbing again.
"Hey, hey. It's not your fault. None of this is your fault, okay? I chose to go up there, Lila. Your brother knows that, I know that, and you should know that too." She looked Lila in the eyes. "Do not blame yourself for this. I chose to volunteer, okay?"
Lila nodded, stepping away and wiping her tears. She sat down on the couch, still sniffling a little. "Okay." she said quietly. "Okay," she said again, trying to muster more strength into her voice. "That's what Clint said you'd say." Kate laughed and set down next to her, giving her a side hug.
"Clint will take good care of you guys until I come back. And I will come back, so don't worry about that." Lila smiled. Kate did feel like she had a fighting chance in that arena. For her families sake she hoped that she did. "But, while I'm gone, I want you to do some things for me." Lila nodded, her full attention now on Kate. "My mother has some old dresses from when she was still a merchants daughter. You should sell those at the Hob."
"But Kate I don't like going in the Hob. Everyone in there is always scary and drinking!" Kate sighed. She wasn't wrong- the Hob was an illegal hotspot, full of alcoholics, bullies, and Peacekeepers sick with their job, which were frequently both bullies and alcoholics. It was also, however, the only place where Kate and Clint could sell game without being sent to the firing squad. That also meant it had the best trading in all of twelve.
"I know. I bet Laura will go with you though, and she's been around there enough to know the safest trading places." Lila still looked hesitant about the idea. "You're gonna need that money, Lila. Your whole family is gonna really need that money, so you better get over your fear and tough it out. I've been going there since I was younger than you and I'm fine. Tough it out."
Lila looked like she might cry again, and for a moment Kate felt bad. Then she remembered that without her strict words Clint and his family might starve to death. "And I need you to do one more thing for me, cause I don't think anyone else will." That caught her attention.
"What is it?'
"My mom." Lila widened her eyes in surprise, opening her mouth to object. "Wait, before you say anything, hear me out. I know that you and your family don't like her much." It was true. When Clint found out about her neglect and Kate almost starving to death, he started to harbor a pretty vicious grudge against her. Laura had also been upset with her, even if it was more disappointment than anything else. Of course, that dislike had spread to the rest of the Barton family. "She is my mom, though. I know that you guys won't let her starve, but please don't just leave her alone."
Lila sighed. "I love you lots, Kate. So I'll take care of her for you." she crossed her arms defensively. "But I'm not gonna like it one bit."
Kate grinned and hugged her again. "I knew I could count on you. Who knows? You're so good with medicine that you might even be able to fix her up!" She tousled Lila's hair, and the kid laughed. She was an aspiring doctor, even though it was incredibly difficult for someone from the Seam to get any medical training. Still, after her mother had fallen off the deep end, Laura had taken her apothecary supplies and started running a small business. Despite having no medical training, it was doing pretty well.
"When you come back, I'll be an amazing doctor!" She gasped. "Maybe I'll even get Mr. Strange to teach me some stuff! He's a really good doctor." Kate nodded.
"Don't let your brother know about that," she joked. Lila laughed.
"I won't." Lila hugged her again, squeezing her tightly. "You will come back, right? I really want you to be there when I'm a real doctor."
Kate remained silent for a second. She didn't want to give her false hope that she would return. But she also couldn't say that she wouldn't come back, because then it was real. Because then the early death coming for her was decided. So she didn't give up, and she hoped that she wasn't lying. "You better believe I'll come back." Kate could hear Lila start sobbing again, even more so than she had before.
"Sorry guys, times up." The Peacekeeper swung the door open, and Lila stood up slowly, still sniffling.
"Bye, Kate."
"I'll see you soon." The door shut, and Kate looked at the ceiling, wondering how on earth she could keep her promise and her humanity, and if it was even possible.