Chapter Text
It was the reaping day, but Kate wasn’t worried. At least, not for herself. She looked over at Clint, who was shaking slightly while he checked the snare.
“You doing okay, buddy? You look pretty shaky.” He looked up from the snare, forcing a smile to his face. It almost made Kate cringe, how fake it was.
“A little worried about reaping. You know how it is.” Kate sighed. She couldn’t even remember how much Tesserae Clint had applied for this year. How many times was his name in the reaping ball? She had tried to convince him that hunting would be enough to supply for his siblings and girlfriend, but he wouldn’t hear it.
“Most kids in the Seam have as many or more of their names in the games, Clint.” She frowned. “Oh, that rhymed.”
He stood up, punching her lightly in the shoulder. “Don’t need to sound so glum. Besides, you’re right.” He picked up the game bag, which was full of rabbits and fresh berries. It was a good haul, and would make for a small feast after the reaping. “This is my last year in the Reaping, anyway. Just gotta make it through one more!” He laughs humorously, and her mind flashes to his three siblings, who are still in the Reaping.
“One more year,” she agreed. “Then you’ll get the honor of possibly dying in a mine!” She waved her hands dramatically, laughing.
Clint walked past, pushing her. “May the odds be ever in your favor,” he yelled, mimicking Darcy, the woman who always announced the hunger game tributes in district twelve.
“May the odds be ever in your favor!” She yelled back. They made their way out of the woods, hearts lighter, despite the dread of the day.
When they made their way back, it didn’t take long to divvy up the spoils and go to the Hob. The place wasn’t as packed as usual, since everyone was preparing them self for two children to be plucked from their lives and brutally murder, or be murdered.
Kate shivered when she thought about it, and tried to focus on haggling with Greasy Sae. They reached a price that both she and Clint could agree on.
Greasy Sae turned her dark eyes to the two teens. “You lot be careful today,” she warned, brandishing her worn down spoon. “You kids better not get picked. If ya do, then I’ll not have anyone to get me fresh meat.”
Clint laughed, albeit a bit nervously. “Of course we won’t! My name is only in there about a hundred times, after all…” he sighed, waving at Greasy Sae. “I’ll see you after the reaping.” He walked out, Kate following him.
“Clint, don’t get so worked up about this. We’ll both be fine.” She looked at him, trying to appear reassuring. It was difficult to do when her own nerves were racing. “Besides, you’re a hunter, and a good one at that.”
Clint smiled smugly at the praise, back to his usual, cocky self. “Of course. We both are, at that!” Clint turned to face her, a much more serious expression on her face. “You didn’t apply for much tesserae this year, right?” His frown deepened. “You still have two more years in the reaping, not counting this one. You can’t put your name in that damn reaping two many times, Kate.” His face was creased in worry, making him look far older than he was.
Her stomach twisted in nervous guilt. She had promised not to apply for tesserae to many times, but she knew her chance of being picked for tribute was higher than Clint wanted, but lately her mom's depression had gotten far worse. She needed more food for herself, Clint and her mom. “Of course not,” she lied, trying not to let her guilt show. “Don’t worry, I’m staying safe.”
He relaxed slightly. “Good. That’s good.” He waved farewell. “I’ll see you after the reaping!” He walked down the coal ridden streets, burdened with the load of food they had collected. Kate waved after him, even though he couldn’t see. She had a sickening feeling it would be the last time she got to do so.
When she arrived, the house was dead silent. She sighed quietly. Of course, her mom hadn’t gotten up yet. She was still asleep, while Kate had spent hours in the woods so they could eat. She knew that her mom couldn’t help her depression, but it didn’t make Kate resent her any less. It didn’t lessen the ache in her stomach when she remembered starving to death.
She rinsed her face off with the stale water kept in pails around the house. Since she had spent so much time in the woods this morning, she didn’t have any time to properly bathe. She was fine with that, though. The broken bathtub full of rust and possibly rodents didn’t have a very strong appeal, if she was honest.
She pulled on a nicer set of clothes, a button up and a pair of her father’s slacks she had tailored to fit her slightly better. She still looked a little funny in them, but it wasn’t like anyone was going to be paying attention to her. All eyes would be on whatever poor soul the Capitol was sending into the Hunger Games. Which, hopefully, wouldn’t be her.
She left the run down bathroom, walking into her mother's room. The ratty blinds were still closed, and her mother was curled up in the quilt she had gotten before she lived in the Seam. It didn’t seem like she had moved at all since Kate left in the early morning. Kate sighed, and kneeled down next to her unconscious mother. “You need to wake up, mom. The Reaping will start soon.” The steady breathing from under the blankets seemed to hitch for a second, but then returned to normal. Kate sighed in exasperation. “You need to wake up, mom. There isn’t any time for this today.”
Finally, dark hair appeared from underneath the ratty blankets, and her mom slowly sat up. “The Reaping…” She blinked slowly, as if waking up from a dream. She turned her attention to Kate, staring at her with a startling clarity. “You cannot be reaped, Kate. Are you old enough to be safe yet?” Kate stared at her, heart sinking low in her chest.
“No, mom. I’m still young enough to be in the games.” Her mother stared at her, eyes watery and dripping with heartbreak and surprise. She moaned, putting her head in her hands, rocking back and forth on her heels. Kate kneeled down, grabbing her mothers hands away from her face. “I won’t be reaped, mom.” She inhaled, trying to gather strength for what she knew she needed to say. “I won’t leave you alone.”
She hated herself for saying that. For having to mother her own mom, who had been willing to let her starve in her depression. It was a miracle that she hadn’t, and that she had been able to supply for them both for so long. She didn’t know why she didn’t just let her useless mother rot away. Maybe it was out of some twisted memory she had before her father died.
“Thank you, sweetie…” her mother said, hugging her. Kate abruptly stood up, walking over to the coal-coated dresser. She felt sick at that nickname. It wasn’t one her mother deserved to use for her. “What are you doing?”
“Getting some clothes for you. We have to look nice at the reaping, after all.” She tossed a faded blue dress to her mother, and pulled out one of her mom’s old ones from when she still lived a wealthy life. Sometimes she forgot that the broken husk of a woman she knew used to be a wealthy merchant’s daughter, known for her beauty. She may not have the beauty or the wealth anymore, but at least she still had some presentable clothes.
Kate walked out of the room, quickly pulling on the dress and throwing her dirty clothes on the floor. The dress was stiff and a little wrinkled from staying in a closet drawer for a year, but it fit well. It was a little to big around the hips and breast, since she didn’t really have any fat to spare, with hunting and all. It was fine, though. All eyes would be on whatever poor soul the Capitol would slaughter for entertainment.
She combed her hair, braiding a French braid a top her head. Her mother had taught her before her depression how to do one, meaning she had been wearing the same hairstyle for any Capitol required event since she was seven. She stared at her reflection for a moment, before spreading some water over the frizzy ends of the braid, smoothing it down. She finished buttoning up her dress, then walked out of the room.
Her mother was sitting on the mattress, legs curled up under hair. She stared at the fading pink dress, which was similar to the one Kate was wearing then. Her eyes seemed blank and haunted, the same look she got on her face when she sat in bed all day, staring at the wall, the images of the coal mine crushing her father replaying in her head. Kate didn't know what her mother really thought about on those days, but she knew her own memories. The ones she hadn't let swallow her. She had fought through them.
Anger surged through her, and she stomped over to the older woman. "Get up! We don't have time for this today! You have-" she kneeled down, picking up the dress and unfolding it, before throwing it back at her. "to get ready, or the Peacemakers will come to our house and shoot us both!" Her voice got shrill, cracking in anger. Her mother looked up at her, startled out of the trance. She stumbled to her feet, bony hands shaking as she held the dress. Kate walked out of the dark, decrepit room, shutting the door behind her.
She pulled on her boots. They were slightly caked with dirt and the leather was worn, but they fit far better than her other remaining shoes. Despite selling meat and wild produce to both the Peacemakers and the mayors daughter, MJ, money was hard to come by in the Seam. They still looked nicer than a lot of families in the Seam though, many of who could barely even afford the water necessary water to bathe for the Reaping.
She walked back through the coal-ridden house, knocking gently on her mother's door. She felt a little guilty about snapping. She knew her mom couldn't control her own depression, or her grief about her father. "Are you ready to go?" she called out. Her mother pulled open the door, her dark hair pulled into a tight bun behind her head.
"Yes, it's time we head out. You probably want to see your friend before the reaping begins, right?" she smiled softly, as if remembering something many years gone. Just as soon, the smile was replaced by the sad, forlorn expression she usually wore. "You'll be fine, I'm sure. It's your last year, since your eighteen now." Kate tensed up. Her chest felt tight at her mother's sullen hope, that she wouldn't lose another person she cared about. Kate didn't have the heart to correct her.
"Yup. It's my last year in the Reaping." She knew her voice sounded far to strained to be telling the truth, but her mother didn't seem to notice. She pulled on a pair of slip on leather shoes, that were older than Kate. "Are you ready now?" she tried to keep the exasperation out of her voice, but failed rather miserably.
"Yes, yes." She opened the door, gracefully stepping out into the cloudy morning light. Kate quickly followed after her, speed-walking through town. Clint was standing by the admission stands into the town square, looking around impatiently. His face brightened when he saw her, and he ran over to see her.
"Auntie Eleanor," he said, shaking her hand. "It's good to see you out and about." Her mother seemed confused about seeing Clint, and looked around as if she had forgotten where she was. She finally looked back at him and smiled, still seeming confused. He was already talking to Kate again. "Are you ready? You really didn't sign up for that much Tesserae, right? It's my last year in, so I'll probably be fine. You need to be careful though, your name-" she slapped him, grabbing him by the ear. He yelped.
"My mom doesn't know that I still have two more years in the Reaping after this, Clint. She's very confused right now, so keep your mouth shut!" She whispered to him. He pulled out of her reach, then nodded.
"Right. You should be careful, cause this is your last year! Gotta be careful, huh?" He was so awkward that Kate was in physical pain. She hugged him, forcing him to shut up.
"Stay safe," she whispered to him. He wrapped his arms around her, tightening his grip, like he was afraid she would disappear if he let go. A sudden fear struck her. What if he left her here in District Twelve alone, with no one but a depressed mother and his families hungry mouths to feed? Her grip on him tightened just as much as her fear. Clint pulled away, a comforting smile gracing his lips. "And may the odds-"
"Be ever in your favor!" she finished, letting a small laugh escape from her. "Alright, I'll see you after the Reaping. Greasy Sae is cooking up a whole feast. Could you bring the kids by the hob? I know they don't like it much, but I think they'll appreciate the food." Clint laughed again, although it was forced. He clapped her on the shoulder and headed toward the tents. "Bye!" she called out. There was always the chance you'd never get the chance to say it again after the reaping.
Her mother walked off toward where the adults would be watching the reaping, leaving Kate alone. She headed toward the white tents lined with Peacemakers.
Peter always hated reaping days. He hated the fear that went along with them. Not for himself, obviously. He knew he was lucky. He was a talented bakers nephew, so he never had the extra tickets with his name on them in the Reaping bowl. He was never in fear of starving. He feared for the people living in the Seam, especially her. The girl he had saved from starvation all those years ago.
He only ever saw her at school, and he was careful not to stare. Ned and MJ gave him hell about it. Speaking of his friends, they had all planned to meet up before the Reaping, and wish each other luck. MJ always worried before the Reaping. She hated the games, and always ranted about the Capitol and how unfair it all was. Peter never cared to listen. There wasn't much he could about it, and he had no desire to get arrested for treason.
A rapid knock shook him from his thoughts. "Pete, please tell me you're ready to go. Your friend Ned is asking about you, something about meeting up before the Reaping." Stephen, his elder adopted brother, said. Peter rushed out of the room, smoothing down his rather unruly hair.
"Yup, I'm ready to go! I got my clothes on, I'm pretty sure I ate breakfast, and-" he looked down at his feet. "I'll have my socks on in a minute!" he hollered, already racing back up the stairs. He heard Stephen groan loudly, and then thought he could hear Ned and Stephen quietly talking. He raced down the stairs, having put on the socks his aunt had bought him for last year's Reaping. He raced back down the stairs, almost crashing to the ground as his socked feet hit the hardwood floor.
"Hurry up and get your shoes on," Stephen said. "Uncle Ben and Aunt May are ready to go already. That MJ girl doesn't seem particularly pleased either, if I'm being honest with you." Peter's eyes widened in surprise.
"Wait MJ's here? She's totally gonna kill me!" He blushed, his voice cracking. Stephen snickered under his breath. "Hey, don't laugh at me!" He ran outside, where Uncle Ben and Aunt May were talking to his friends. He ran over to his friends, glad to end the conversation before someone found out something particularly embarrassing. Judging from MJ's smirk, though, it was a little late for that.
"Is it true when you were little you idolized the victor from three, Tony Stark?" She raised her eyebrow mockingly. He jinxed himself. Dang it.
"That's enough of that," he said quickly. Ned laughed a little, and Stephen was practically turning red trying not to laugh. He glared at both of them. "I hate you all."
"Alright, kiddo." Uncle Ben patted him on the shoulder, before pulling him into a quick hug. "We need to get to the Town Square now. The Reaping will start soon." The mood in the small group grew almost as cloudy as the steadily darkening sky at that comment. MJ stopped smirking, and wrapped her arms around herself. She had lost her mother in the Hunger Games a few years ago, and still feared the Reaping far more than many other rich kids in 12.
Stephen frowned. "None of you kids applied for tesserae, right?" MJ and Ned shook their heads. Stephen already knew that Peter hadn't signed up for any, mainly because Stephen would have killed him before he even got to the Reaping if he had. Stephen gave him a quick hug. "You'll be fine, I'm sure." Peter nodded, not really sure what to say. Aunt May gave him a much longer, squeezing him so hard he was having a hard time breathing.
"I'll see you after the Reaping, sweetheart." he nodded.
"Alright, I'll see you guys after the Reaping." He turned away from his family and toward MJ, who was walking robotically toward the town square. "Are you feeling alright?"
MJ rolled her eyes, her signature sarcasm coming back in full swing at his question. "Despite the fact that I'm terrified for Kate, who's my friend even though you're to much of a wimp to talk to her, I'm-" she inhaled, closing her eyes. "I'm scared, Peter. This system is messed up. None of use are exempt from it, Peter." She looked at him, the burning intensity that he both admired and feared lighting up her face like embers of a fire. "You should be scared too," she whispered.
Ned stared at her, face pale. "That's a terrifying analogy." He grabbed Peter's arm, and they walked over to the white tents, waving to MJ. "Good luck!" He shouted to her.
"May the odds be ever in your favor!" she yelled back. All three of them were ushered into the crowds of people by Peacemakers.