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The sky is unusually blue, bright and brilliant and if it were any other day it would be absolutely beautiful. All Betty can think is it might be the last blue sky she’ll ever see. Her heart is hammering against her rib cage and she glances to the left, catching Jughead’s gaze. He gives her a tiny nod and she returns it, a swallow.
Miss McCoy shuffles through the globe of names and Betty squeezes her eyes shut. She’s been here so many times before. It’s never gotten less terrifying. Polly reaches for her hand and Betty grips her fingers, tight. Alice’s gaze is straight ahead, not looking at much of anything at all.
“And the first tribute from District Seven will be…” a dramatic pause, Betty’s hit with a wave of nausea, “Polly Cooper.”
The crowd’s collective gaze flickers to Polly and her swelling pregnant stomach. Betty hears her own name under her mother’s breath and feels a dull ache at the back of her throat.
“I volunteer,” she says gently, loud enough that she catches Miss McCoy’s attention.
Her head cocks to the side, “What’s that, dear?”
“I said I volunteer.”
Archie is named the male tribute, and Betty’s eyes immediately search the crowd for Veronica, finding her jaw set in anger and black tears streaming down her cheeks. There can only be one victor, and Betty is damn near certain it won’t be either of them. As soon as they’re behind the stage, she finds her way into Jughead’s arms, gripping his back with all the force she can muster.
“Shhhh, hey,” he whispers, fingers in her hair. “You’re going to be okay.”
She releases a silent sob into his chest and her whole body is trembling. She forces herself to take a few deep breaths.
“I can’t do this,” Betty says, voice cracking. “I’m not ready to die.”
Jughead moves his hands to her face, tilting her head up to face him.
“Hey,” he says, “You are not going to die.”
Betty drops her gaze and can’t help the sob that escapes her again. She can’t say goodbye. This might be the only goodbye. Then he’ll see her face flashed on a projection screen. She needs so much that she can’t put into words, more than he can offer her in this moment.
“You’re not going to die,” Jughead repeats, “You hear me?”
She forces herself to stare into his eyes and sees the soft, quiet devotion. She reflects it back to him and gives a small nod. Jughead kisses her then, an inhale as they capture their fleeting moment. He rests his forehead against hers and a small smile grazes his lips. Betty tries to smile back, but it’s broken- sad.
“I wish we’d had more time,” she whispers, and a tight grip yanks her away in seconds.
Betty is dragged by a guard to the train and the minute she spots Archie, she breaks into a sprint and leaps into his arms. He catches her without falter and Betty buries her face in his shoulder. She used up all of her sobs on Jughead. His arms tighten around her frame and Betty releases a breath she didn’t know she was holding. She feels safe in his presence, at least. There was a time he was the only person who could make her feel safe. She remembers walking to the market and he’d use his leftover coins to buy her something extra, a treat or a trinket, something to make the days a little brighter. Betty used to wonder if they would get married, raise children, have a real family.
But having children meant losing them to the games, and she realized real families didn’t have to be a husband and kids. Maybe it could just be friends who feel like blood, chosen by her own volition.
She takes her seat on the train and glances out window, spotting Jughead on the edge of the fountain, face buried in his hands. His shoulders are heaving.
He knows she won’t make it back, too.
The first night, Betty lays wide wake with her eyes glued to the ceiling. Veronica’s last words play through her head on a loop. She had been so calm, and Betty was sure she was already formulating how to burn the Capitol to the ground.
“Archie will die before he lets anything happen to you,” she had said.
Yeah, Betty had thought, that’s what I’m afraid of.
The training session reminds Betty how quickly she’ll be killed. Archie is muscular and he can lob a boulder sized weight across the gym. The tributes from District One approach him immediately, red hair glistening under the fluorescent lights in the ceiling. Josie had told them about the Blossoms, how they trained from the time they were ten, to be volunteers when they turned seventeen. All they know is killing, but grew up close enough to be groomed by the Capitol.
Betty ignores the sister’s hand trailing down Archie’s chest and tries to focus on how she’s going to survive without any combat skills whatsoever. As she skims through the monitor of plant species, an arrow skates past her head and just barely grazes her ponytail. She looks over her shoulder to find a young woman with rose gold hair and caramel skin staring back at her.
“Sorry,” she shrugs, as if she hadn’t just almost impaled Betty in the skull, “My aim is shit.”
Betty shakes her head, a nervous laugh escapes her, “No worries, you’d be saving me from a lot of suffering later.”
“I’m Toni,” she extends a hand, bow over her shoulder. “District Twelve.”
Betty takes it and offers her a small smile, “Betty, District Seven.”
“Oh yeah?” Toni grins, “That your golden boy all the tributes are fawning over?”
“That’s the one.”
Betty receives a four, the lowest of the year.
Archie receives an eleven, the highest.
They shove Betty into a pastel pink dress and curl her hair with white ribbons. Archie is in white pants with a pink shirt that matches her dress. Betty really, really wants to throw up. She scrambles to come up with something that will keep her alive. On stage, the host, Ceasar, asks Archie so many questions, Betty wonders if he forgot about her entirely. By the time he shifts focus to her, he seems almost disappointed.
“And Betty,” Ceasar sighs, “Tell us something we don’t know about you.”
She throws a glance at Archie and he smiles at her. He looks so ridiculous in white and pink. But this is what the audience wants, Betty reaches for his hand.
“Well,” she gives a broad grin for the camera, “I’ve been in love with Arch,” a shrug, “since like, forever.”
Archie’s brow furrows, but he catches it in seconds. Archie snakes his arm around her waist and he presses a quick kiss to her hair.
“Growing up right next to each other…” Archie starts, with a tiny shrug, “It’s hard to miss what’s right in front of you.”
Betty’s gaze flickers down to Archie’s mouth and Josie’s sharp whisper rings through her ears, “Sell it.” She nods before leaning forward to press her lips against his in a kiss. Archie freezes for a moment, but he reciprocates immediately, mouth still parted when she pulls away.
“Betty…” he whispers, while the stadium erupts with screams around them.
She sleeps in Archie’s bed that night, hands at their sides. His room has a skylight above his bed that looks out at the stars. It’s been silent since Betty climbed under the covers over an hour ago. They can’t sleep.
“Do you ever think about it?” She asks, and he turns to glance at her profile. “How you want to die out there?”
Archie swallows, “Betty.”
She’s starting to hate the way he says her name. She used to love the softness of it, so strong but always so gentle with her, from the time they were kids. Now she resents him for not being harsher, building her up to fight, maybe she’d stand a chance.
“I hope it’s quick,” she whispers, forcing her eyes closed for the night.
Betty can remember watching the games a few years ago. The arena was a desert. Tributes spent the majority of the games just running, only to die from dehydration and starvation a few days later. It was named the dullest games in Panem history. So, at least it won’t be that again.
The countdown starts and Betty struggles to take in her surroundings. The air is damp, sticky. But it’s cool, and a light breeze pushes the strands of hair out of her face. Her mind flashes to Polly, suddenly and out of nowhere.
She’ll never see the baby.
She has an ache deep in the pit of her stomach and when she hits the ground, for a moment she stops breathing altogether. Within seconds, Archie’s arms are scooping her up and rushing her away from the killing that’s already started. Her ears are ringing, but she can hear the canon fire, once, then again. Then a third time.
She smacks Archie’s shoulder and he drops her to her feet so she can sprint alongside him. Arrows fly past their heads and Betty knows their only chance at survival is splitting up. Archie seems to share her sentiment, giving a quick nod to the right before veering off, out of her sight. Betty drops behind a tree and buries herself under a few big leaves, sucking in a breath. Her legs are covered in scrapes from the grass and shrubs. She doesn’t move for five hours.
A memory flashes through her head that night, when they were children and would play hide and seek in the woods behind their houses. One time it took Archie almost an hour to find her, nearly crying by the time he did. Betty couldn’t believe that he could love her that much, enough that losing her brought him to tears. She had wrapped him up in her arms, almost laughing at how sincerely terrified he was. She understood now, what he must’ve been feeling.
Betty doesn’t find Archie, but she does find Toni.
Toni is equipped with a bow and two sets of arrows. She also has a knife, a torch, and three packs of kindling to make fires. Betty doesn’t ask how she acquired all of these items, finds that she’d really rather not know. Toni, for whatever reason, takes Betty in and shares her rations of food. She learns that Toni is a front-runner to win the games, the Capitol loves an underdog who also kicks a lot of ass.
Betty’s not particularly good at anything, so she can’t imagine why Toni wants her around. It doesn’t take her long to realize, she likes the company too. They weave grass into blankets and watch the faces flashed on the screen at night. Six tributes are left. They won’t be safe for long.
Toni teaches Betty how to throw the knife, a sharp spin to it so that it hits an x on the tree. Betty practices more than thirty rounds a day, perfecting her aim, unwilling to admit she might actually have to use it. She does wonder about Archie. She’s yet to see his face flashed at night, but he hasn’t found her. Maybe he stopped looking.
Betty’s filling Toni’s canteen with water when she hears the scream. She drops the container and sprints back to their camp, freezing when she sees Toni’s body, blood streaming from her head. A sharp, red stained rock sits nearby and Jason Blossom has one of her arrows aimed right at Betty’s chest.
“Sorry, seven,” he smirks, “It’s just a game.”
Jason’s fingers release and Betty fires her knife at him, a dagger landing right in his heart. His brow furrows- shocked- and he drops to his knees. His body hits the ground and Betty’s frozen in place for a few seconds, staring at her own trembling hands.
Hands that just took someone’s life.
She kneels next to Toni and props her head up carefully, pushing a few strands of bloody hair out of her face. She’s still breathing, barely. Betty swallows and it’s heavy. It aches.
“Betty,” Toni says, voice hoarse, “You need to run.”
Betty shakes her head, and her fingers are already covered in blood. “No, let me help you.”
Toni’s hand searches, grabbing for her hand and gripping it tightly.
“Please, Betty,” she whispers, and her breathing is shallow. “Run.”
There’s a crunch of branches in the distance, and Betty is certain it’s Cheryl looking for her brother. She moves her gaze up to the open forest and back down to Toni. Betty can’t win, not alone. She knows Toni has a family back in twelve, and she’s a Capitol favorite. She deserves to make it. What has Betty done? What will she do?
“Please,” Toni repeats, closing her eyes.
Betty shakes her head again, but pushes herself up from the ground and starts running. She leaves everything behind and weaves through the trees, unable to slow down, even when the canon fires in the distance. She wipes the tears away and pushes her body to run faster.
The canon fires again and a scream echoes through the arena, guttural and piercing.
Cheryl.
Betty doesn’t find Archie, but he does find her.
She takes refuge in the cave behind a waterfall and shivers herself to sleep. She wakes up feeling like bugs are eating her alive and rips at her clothing. She hurls herself into the pool of water and gives in to the sob that’s begging to escape. This is the end, for Betty. Her life is already flashing before her eyes and she considers drowning herself now. A peaceful end. She submerges herself under the surface and screams into the abyss.
She hears him before she sees him.
“Betty?” the first time she thinks she’s imagining it, then it comes louder, “Betty!”
He’s standing in the spot where she had originally jumped from, eyes softening at the sight of her. Betty inhales and she’s suddenly grateful that she’s soaking wet, that he can’t tell her eyes are rimmed with tears. She scrambles out of the water and into his arms, their eager hands gripping at each other to grasp some sense of reality. Betty has to convince herself that it’s not a hallucination. Archie wraps his arms around her so tightly she can barely breathe, and it feels good.
“I killed Jason Blossom,” she tells him that night, the water rushing beside them.
Archie doesn’t tell her how many tributes he’s killed and Betty doesn’t ask. She knows that’s the point, the course of survival, but she always thought she’d die before making it to that point. She was so driven by anger, her body moved before her mind could process. Maybe that’s the point. She’s got her head in his lap and Archie is pulling his fingers through her hair.
“It’s okay,” he says softly, “It’s okay.”
There are only two other tributes left, and one of them has a target on Betty’s back. She wraps her arms around his waist tries to catch some final hours of sleep. Archie’s fingers graze over her spine, dig into her lower back. The canon fires and Archie sighs against her hair.
“You know,” he says in the pitch black darkness, “a little part of me always thought…”
“Yeah,” Betty says, voice cracking. “Me too.”
Betty’s sitting cross legged and Archie is mid-sentence when Cheryl finds them. She has Toni’s bow and arrow pointed right at Betty’s head, a knife strapped to either side of her belt. Her hair is drenched from the night’s storm and her skin is paler than Betty remembers. Archie steps in front of her immediately, arms up in surrender.
“Slow down, Chery,” he says gently, “Take a breath.”
The intimacy is not lost on Betty, the way Cheryl softens for a moment and swallows, holding his gaze. It only lasts a second before she straightens her posture and lifts the arrow again.
“She killed my brother,” Cheryl seethes, jaw set. “Now, I’m going to kill her.”
“I can’t let you do that,” Archie sighs, and takes a step towards her. Chery’s bow is shaking in her grip and he keeps his hands up where she can see them.
She blinks the tears out of her eyes, “Move, Archie.”
He shakes his head.
“Move, Archie,” she repeats, and her knuckles are almost white.
Cheryl screams, “MOVE!”
Archie stands his ground, but the bow and arrow fall from Cheryl’s hands. She collapses to her knees and Archie catches her before she can hit the dirt, her face buried in the crook of his arm. Cheryl’s cries echo through the cave and Betty drops her gaze, feels as though she’s intruding. She’s the source of this pain. Cheryl is mumbling something into his skin, the same phrase over and over again.
“Kill me,” she whimpers, tears splatter into the mud, “Kill me, kill me, please.”
Archie glances over his shoulder at Betty and she keeps hers glued to the ground.
He plunges the knife in and releases his own sob, letting the blood pool in his lap.
The game makers send another storm that night, so big it yanks them into the water and pushes Betty so far down she’s sure she won’t make it to the surface. She forces her eyes open, but all she can see is darkness. Betty is going to die now. She can hear her name off in the distance, Archie’s shouting, but she lets herself go. She stops kicking, stops fighting, and surrenders to the current.
Archie will win, he’ll be able to go home.
And he does.
Archie moves through his victory tour in a blur, forcing smiles and ignoring the pokes and prods for autographs.Veronica is waiting for him at the train station when he returns to District Seven and his whole body feels numb. He should smile, cry, laugh with relief, something. Instead he offers her a blank gaze and accepts her embrace, swallowing the ache in the back of his throat.
“She loved you,” Veronica says, voice soft. “She loved you so much.”
Archie pulls away and throws up on the train tracks.
He wipes his hand over his mouth and says, “Thanks.”
In the bath, he submerges himself under the hot water and he can see her. Blonde hair is swirling around her face and she’s screaming. All he can hear is her screaming. Archie shoots up from the water, gasping for air.
Everywhere he goes people are watching him, offering sympathetic glances or heartbroken stares. Alice Cooper won’t look at him at all. Neither will Jughead.
Polly had the baby, a girl. She still hasn’t picked a name.
Archie retreats back to the woods behind his house, wandering aimlessly, yet still with a destination in mind. He can remember that day, being filled with panic that he had lost her. He was blubbering like a baby by the time he found her. He passes the tree, with bark that peeled so far down it was nearly curling. He passes the flock of bushes with indigo colored berries, and scrapes his ankle on the same jagged weeds he did the first time. Then he spots it, the hollowed out trunk, covered in swirling vines and buried in dead leaves. Archie picks up his pace, running until his fingers graze the wood. He turns the corner and there she is. Her hair is up in a ponytail, gaze straight ahead until she notices his presence, shifting to look up at him.
“Arch,” she says, and her lips curve into a smile, “Took you long enough.”