Chapter Text
Jagger couldn’t even bring himself to be upset, as he sat in the Justice Building, picking at the threadbare embroidery on the couch he’d been directed to sit on. For seventeen years, people had been forgetting he existed- now, he would finally vanish like his parents wanted. The only ones who would miss him were the sheep, and once Mr. Merriweather hired a new shepherd, they would forget him too. He adored his flock, but sheep were such simple creatures. They didn’t have long memories or much in the way of brains- otherwise, being a shepherd wouldn’t be such an important job. They remembered people who were nice to them and things that hurt them, where home was, and what was good to eat, but not much else. Sheep were also not allowed into the Justice building to say goodbye, even if someone had wanted to go retrieve the flock and bring them.
The peacekeepers who’d brought him to this overly decorated room had clearly expected him to have visitors. He had two siblings and two living parents, after all. Most families would visit even if they didn’t much care for their child. And truthfully, they might have- except that his sister’s best friend was reaped with him. Maribel likely didn’t even think about the time limitations before heading straight for Beri’s room across the hall, beside herself with grief for a friend whom she was smart enough to recognize was likely not coming back. Their parents would’ve stayed with her ‘for support’, and because they had always adored Beri. He’d heard the three of them in the hallway briefly, before being allowed in to the younger girl’s parlor.
Emilio hadn’t even been in sight during the Reaping. Jagger knew his older brother had to be present by law, but as this was his first Reaping after aging out, Emilio was probably off with friends, enjoying the day off and celebrating his freedom. He’d heard talk of some kind of party- they’d acquired a good deal of questionably legal liquor and stashed it in an old barn. His brother had promised his friends that he’d be there to set up for the party- he wouldn’t be wasting his time on his useless little brother.
Or so he’d thought.
Emilio rushed into the room, wearing an expression that, on another man, might have been called frantic. “Jagger!” he shouted, pulling his little brother into the first hug they’d shared in fifteen years. “Don’t get yourself killed, shrimp.”
Jagger smiled bitterly and pulled away from the hug. “I know, I promise I’ll try not to make you look bad being related to me.”
Emilio looked at him like he was stupid for a moment, then shook his head and sighed. “Look, kid. Just because I’m off doing my own thing doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. You’re my little brother. And I know…” He glanced toward the doorway, clearly referencing the rest of the family in Beri’s room. “You were never rough and tumble like me. I didn’t know how to relate to you. I still don’t. You’re always off on your own with the sheep, and I… let you.”
Jagger sank back onto the couch, confused and oddly angry. If Emilio cared about him so much, why had he never said anything? Why had he abandoned him until he was about to go off and die on live television? “Your friends make fun of me for smelling like sheep. Aren’t you supposed to be helping them set up a party?”
“Man, forget the party!” Emilio growled, pacing in frustration. “And forget my asshole friends. Guys insult each other to bond. At least… y’know, jocks do. The point is… don’t give up. Come home and make our parents regret ignoring you, alright? You’ve got that sling thing, you’ve probably fended off all kinds of wild animals with it. Use it.”
“You really think I could fight off twenty three other people with a sling?” Jagger snorted, finding the idea laughable. “All any of them would have to do would be get up close to me, and I’d be toast.”
“If people know you’ve got skills, they’ll want you on their side.” Emilio insisted. “Find someone who can watch your back. A team.”
Jagger was about to make a snarky comment about his success making friends up til this point, but his brother cut him off. “You don’t need to be best friends, you just need someone who realizes you’re more useful at their side for the first couple days.”
“I’m about to go into the Hunger Games, and your brilliant advice is to do the one thing I’ve never managed to do, in the most high stakes situation possible.” Jagger pointed out. “Excellent advice, meathead.”
Emilio grabbed Jagger and ruffled his hair in what he clearly thought was an affectionate gesture. “Do what you gotta do to come home, kid. That’s all I’m saying.”
An apologetic peacekeeper poked her head in. “Time. I’ve got another visitor waiting.”
Emilio sighed and let go of Jagger. “I do love you, kid. That’s the main thing. And… I’m sorry.”
Jagger watched Emilio be ushered out of the room, mouth too dry to reply. His eyes stung, but he knew better than to cry. The minute he left this room, he’d be on camera. He was too old to get away with crying on Reaping Day.
The next one to enter was less surprising. An older man, stepping carefully to avoid tripping on the lush rug that covered most of the floor. Even faded and somewhat flattened as it was from age, it was both beautiful and a hazard. Even a wealthy man in 10 shouldn’t risk a fall at his age, and Mr. Merriweather was a cautious sort.
Once he’d settled himself in the chair opposite Jagger, he sat there in silence for a long moment. He seemed deep in thought, as though there was some puzzle he could solve to fix the whole situation. “Should I expect to need a new shepherd?” He asked finally, his voice light and calm, despite the situation. “I can get my great-niece to take over for a few weeks, but she won’t stay long term.”
“Sir?” Jagger asked, baffled by the question. He was going into the Hunger Games, and the old man was asking about a replacement shepherd? Was he finally going senile?
Mr. Merriweather smiled gently at him. “It’s a simple question. Are you intending to come home to your sheep, Mr. Hale? No one in the whole District cares for them as you do, but you have to make the choice for yourself. It may be the only real choice you have left to make.”
Jagger swallowed and looked away, unsure why people who’d barely spoken to him before were so invested in him now. Was it just because he’d been reaped? He was older and relatively strong, so between him and Beri, he could imagine that he’d seem like the better chance to bring home a badly needed win for their district. Still, that didn’t explain… well, there were a lot of things it didn’t explain.
“I want to.” He admitted quietly, speaking more to the floor than the man in front of him. “But I’m not- ”
“Obviously there are things you cannot control. Other tributes, mutts, traps in the arena.” Mr. Merriweather’s voice was almost painfully kind. “But the first step to coming home is to decide that you’re going to. Look at me, boy. When deciding what to do, who to trust… Remember that you are coming home, and your choices need to make that happen.”
“Yes sir.” Jagger told him automatically, looking up as his longtime employer instructed. They weren’t exactly close, but he’d always respected the old man and valued his opinion. “Would you give the sheep apples for me? I’m going to miss them while I’m gone.”
The old man smiled broadly and nodded. “Of course I will. They will miss you as well. As will I. Don’t forget, Jagger. You are coming home.”
Mr. Merriweather didn’t wait for the peacekeeper to dismiss him, standing up and shaking Jagger’s hand before leaving. The young shepherd could hear the steady rhythmic sound of his cane against the tiles as he headed down the hallway and out the door.
There was still a bit of time left for goodbyes, but Jagger didn’t expect anyone else. He’d already had two more visitors than anticipated, after all. Hoping for anything more felt greedy. Instead he stared out the window at his district, fidgeting in his uncomfortable reaping outfit and listening to the tearful goodbyes across the hall as his parents and sister were finally extricated from Beri’s room. Footsteps headed off down the hall, and Jagger watched the window. Even though his family didn’t come to say goodbye, he could catch one last glimpse of them before he had to go to the train.
Instead, the door to his room banged open, making him jump. The Peacekeepers gave a stern order that he couldn’t quite hear, and his little sister Maribel came darting in alone. “Jag! I’m so sorry, I had to wait my turn to see Beri and mom and dad were so…” She made a frustrated gesture at the couple now visible through the window, leaving without a backward glance. She was red and puffy eyed from crying, but her annoyance at them shone through the tears. “I couldn’t leave without saying goodbye. I think they just couldn’t face it.”
They both knew that to be an absolute lie, but Jagger couldn’t help but smile a little at Maribel's attempt to comfort him about their absence. Their parents adored her and she adored them, but she was too smart not to realize her brother was treated very differently. “C’mere, Marbear.” He stood up and pulled her into a hug. “Don’t you worry about me. I’ll keep an eye on Beri for you. She’s a good kid.”
Maribel buried her face in his chest and clung as though she could keep him in their district by her grip alone. “Don’t tell Emilio, but you’re my favorite brother, okay? Even if you do smell like sheep most of the time.”
“Couldn’t if I wanted to.” Jagger told her sadly, stroking her hair in his best attempt at a soothing gesture. “But he does seem to think I can win, so maybe don’t totally write him off.”
Maribel looked up at Jagger in shock. “Emilio came?”
He nodded. “I was shocked too. Apparently he does have a heart, under all that muscle. Who knew?”
Maribel considered that even as peacekeepers came in to announce that they were out of time, still clinging tight to Jagger as though she were still the four year old he’d once babysat instead of a self assured fourteen year old. “It better be one of you, okay? I told her to look after you too. I can’t lose my brother and my best friend in the same games.”
Jagger gave his little sister one last squeeze, then pried her arms off of him before the peacekeepers could swoop in to do so. “Goodbye, Mari.”