Family dinners, that's what they called them. Finnick, Kallan, Mags, and Annie. They each had their own home, all the victors in 4 did. They were beautiful. When Kallan first got hers she was so excited. But she was so young then. The houses all sat on the coast, overlooking the bright beautiful ocean. They got boats too, but Kallan hardly went on hers. If she went out to sea she let Finnick do it, she didn't trust herself to man a ship. He was better at it anyway.
Finnick hosted the dinners. Annie was usually at his house anyway, and Kallan usually came over with Mags, who did a lot of the cooking, she excelled at it. Then the four all sat around the table, and it felt so normal. Sitting around at a table in a house that they "earned" by killing 23 people. Maybe not directly, but that's what happened. They never talked about that, they just ate the food, feeling grateful for each other.
But tonight had a tension that most family dinners didn't. For the past few months they'd observed the 74th Games' victory tour. It was the first ever with two victors, whose Games they'd watched as well. Kallan's 17 year old eyes trained on the romance happening in the arena the whole time. It was remarkable, two people being in love in a Game where one of them would likely end up dead, but then they didn't. But the tension wasn't from that. Then tension was from the next Games, the 75th Games. Each of the people at this table already held a special connection to the horrific Games that were put on every year. And this year was a Quarter Quell. They were always different, there was always a twist. First voting in tributes, then double the tributes. Kallan dreaded to think what this year's could be. It was fine, it wouldn't be her in the arena. But it would be her mentoring whatever sad kid got reaped like she had, like Finnick had. Like Annie, and Mags.
"As a reminder," Snow had been saying, as the family turned to the TV as they finished up dinner. "That even the strongest," Kallan's eyes narrowed, she stood, "cannot overcome the power of the Capitol." what did that mean? Kallan's feet were pulling her forward, until she was sitting on the couch, in front of the TV.
"Even the strongest?" Kallan whispered, mostly to herself. What did he mean? The entire room was silent.
"On this, the third quarter quell Games," Kallan's hands were practically shaking. It was fine, there was no way they were going back. It was fine, it wasn't her. "The male and female tributes are to be reaped... from the existing pool of victors in each district."
No.
Kallan felt her ears start to ring, and she tried to remember how to breathe. Everything was getting blurry. Over the ringing she could barely hear Snow saying something about "Victors shall present themselves on reaping day, regardless of age, state of health, or situation." but it didn't matter. She could barely hear Annie's scream. Barely hear a plate crashing against the wall as Finnick threw it. None of it mattered. Because she could do math. There were 5 female victors in district 4. And 2 male victors. 2 of those 5 female victors were her family. If Annie got reaped, she was going in. If Mags got reaped, she was going in. There was a slim, 40 percent chance that she wouldn't be going back to those Games.
Annie's sobs got muffled, Finnick was probably holding her. Mags was silent, but that wasn't surprising.
Kallan stood off the couch, and she headed for the door. No one stopped her, she walked out, and the air hit her face. It was cool, coming off the sea. It was the first thing that made her breathe, and she thought she'd cry, but she didn't. She just started walking back to her house. The house she hardly spent any time in. It was just down the path from Finnick's, right on the shore.
She really thought after all that they'd dragged her through, the Capitol might have been done taking things from her now that she was 18. Now that she'd fought to the death to survive in a purgatory like arena, now that she'd met the families of the kids whose blood was on her hands, now that she'd mentored four other kids, trying to keep them alive and failing, now that she'd had her innocence, her virtue, her right to choose taken from her. But it wasn't enough. Clearly it wasn't enough. They were going to make her do it again. She knew in her heart that it would be her. Not Librae or Muscida, not that either were in any state to fight. Muscida was on the verge of drinking herself to death, and Librae had practically become a recluse once there was another victor to mentor the kids after the 72nd Games.
The worst part was, if she was going in, so was Finnick, and she knew that. Clearly the Capitol didn't think this family had dealt with enough, because they were sending them back into the Games to die.
Finnick held her hand on the way to the reaping, because he knew what she was going to do. A little while after she'd left his house, he came to find her, trying to stop her, she'd replied with what choice do I have? And she was right. She hadn't told anyone else, not Annie, not Mags, because they'd probably try to stop her too.
Dewda didn't even look sad. She looked pleased to see her victors again. So proud of them, always. Not a single one of them was smiling, not a single one happy to see her again. Kallan stood with the women, looking around. There were only four of them, why? Muscida was missing. She looked everywhere, looked in the audience, but she wasn't there. Her heart pounded.
"Where's Muscida?" She asked Dewda, before they began. Dewda's classic capitol smile faltered. Kallan stared her down, wanting an answer.
"She is unable to join us," Dewda said, which Kallan didn't buy. She grabbed Dewda's arm.
"She has to," she was so clearly clinging to the little chance she had of not going back to that arena.
"Kallie," she heard Annie's voice from somewhere behind her, but she wasn't stopping.
"They said, regardless of age, regardless of health-"
"She died this morning," Dewda snapped under her breath, as a Peacekeeper forced Kallan back, forcing her hand off of the escort. Kallan felt a lump in her throat. She didn't know Muscida well, if at all, but that wasn't the issue. Now the issue was that there was a 75% chance of her going into the Games. A one in four chance. Her world slowed, as Mags rubbed her arm. She looked over at Finnick, completely ignoring Dewda's welcome to the district. He saw the deep fear in her eyes. It was returned in his.
"As usual, ladies first," Dewda walked over to the bowl. It only had four names. If any one but Librae's was called, it was over. Kallan watched with a pounding heart as Dewda put her hand back in the bowl, but this time she watched from the stage. Dewda didn't waste as much time. She reached in, and grabbed a name, then pulled it out. In her stupid blue heels she walked back over to the microphone, and opened the envelope. Kallan could already hear her name, just like she had 3 years ago. The very same Kallan Odair, Kallan...Odair.
"Annie Cresta!"
Yeah, that wasn't any better. Finnick's fear was palpable; it was emanating across the entire courtyard. He didn't even have to ask Kallan to do it, in fact he'd rather do anything else. Annie let out a sob, thinking she'd have to go back in. Kallan didn't want to resent her for it. But out of the corner of her eye she saw something else. Mags, who was standing on her other side, went to raise her hand. She hardly let Kallan even breathe before she tried to volunteer. Kallan's hand was faster, she reached forward and grabbed Mags' hand, forcing it back down to her side.
"I volunteer." It was calm, it didn't even sound like herself. Because in what crazy fucked up world would she volunteer to re-enter hell. "I volunteer as tribute," Kallan said, setting herself back in her voice. Mags turned and looked at her, tears in her eyes.
"No," she whispered, quietly begging her daughter not to go. "No, no," Mags reached for her, lightly placing her hands on her face. Kallan briefly closed her eyes, then she pulled away. She walked to the center towards Dewda. She stared blankly at the crowd ahead of her, all of them entirely silent. You could hear a pin drop. Dewda didn't even bother telling the crowd their tribute's name, they knew.
"Now the boys," she breathed out, going to that bowl, and grabbing one of the two names. Kallan craned her neck to see it, but it didn't mean anything, because she knew her brother. Her stupid, stubborn, arrogant, overprotective brother. He was coming with her no matter whose name they pulled. Dewda came back over to the microphone. "Ron Staff-"
"I volunteer," Finnick said plainly, coming over to the center.
"Oh," Dewda's voice shuddered.
Kallan's lips twisted into an unrelenting frown. She knew he was going to do it, but it didn't help the fact that she was furious with him for it.
"Y-your district four tributes. Kallan... and Finnick. Odair."
Finnick tried to look proud, going to stand beside his sister and take her hand. The only reason she let him was for the cameras. He pulled her into him, giving her a kiss on the head. She wanted to push him off. She wanted to scream at him. But she knew better. "We can do this," he said into her hair, and she tried not to scoff as she looked up at him, angry tears welling in her eyes.
"Both of us?"
They said a tearful goodbye to Annie, who could stay back for this one. The mentors were going in as a tributes, she didn't need to come. They said goodbye without the ability to make promises that they'd come home, and they headed for the train. Kallan ripped her hand away the first second she got.
"Kallie," Finnick tried to say, but Kallan started walking faster, trying to get away from him. She marched herself all the way to the all-too-familiar train. It was the very same, no different from the first time she got on it, heading to the Capitol for the very first time. No different from the last time she was on it, breaking down in Finnick's arms, begging him to get her victory dress off her body. "Kallan," she heard his voice when he got on the train and turned to look at him.
"How could you?" She snapped, and she saw finnick's face contort slightly. Like he couldn't understand why she was upset. He saw the tears in her eyes. They weren't the same as they'd been three years ago, either. She wasn't sad, she wasn't scared, she was angry. Angry at him, but mostly angry at the system. Angry at Snow for doing this to her again.
"How could I, what, Kallie?" He asked, eyes narrow.
"How could you do that, Finnick! She was calling his name, you didn't have to go back!"
"And you did?"
"Was Annie going to? Mags?" She asked. "Librae sure as hell wasn't volunteering," she reminded him. Mags was coming with them, to look after them while she could, and Kallan wished she didn't have to hear them fight like this.
"Ron Stafford wasn't going to look out for you out there," Finnick said, spitting Ron's name as if it left a bad taste in his mouth.
"Oh my god, Finnick, you don't get it!" Kallan said, starting to get loud. Her tears welled over and onto her cheeks. "I could get away with outliving him, killing him if I had to, but what am I supposed to do with you in there? I know why I did it but you didn't have to. Who are you protecting anyway?" She snapped at him, even though she knew the answer.
"You!"
"And if we both die? Who's gonna be there for Annie, who's gonna take care of Mags?" She gestured to Mags who was in the corner of the room, wishing there was more she could do. Finnick finally faltered.
"I..."
"Yeah, you thought this through so well."
"I wasn't thinking it through, I was thinking I need to keep you safe Kallie, that's my job. And I'm gonna do whatever I can, again, to make sure you walk out of there."
"No! I don't want to walk out of there again!" She yelled, which hit Finnick as hard as if she threw a real knife. She saw it hit him, but she couldn't feel bad for saying it.
"Kallie."
"I'm not walking out of that arena... without you."
Finnick just shook his head.
"We're done talking about this," he said, in his most fatherly, final tone. "You're surviving, you're looking after Annie and Mags."
"No."
"You're the better of us, Kallan. They need you, and I couldn't live with myself if anything happened to you in there. You're coming out of this. Not me."
Kallan couldn't look at him anymore. She stormed out of the room, reminding Finnick of when she was little and got upset with him. Which in a weird way, comforted him. He looked at Mags, his eyes full of the apology he'd give her if he could speak.
It was odd hearing Haymitch talk about these people, because Peeta wasn't just picking allies, he was looking for people he could trust to include in their plan. The careers were out, the girl who filed her teeth was out. That didn't seem like a likely possibility. Beetee and Wiress didn't seem like a bad option, though. The morphlings...maybe not. Then Peeta perked up, switching from leaning back comfortably on the couch to sitting forward, elbows on his knees.
"Finnick Odair, right?" Katniss asked, recognizing the man on the screen. Peeta knew him too. His reputation preceded him. Haymitch just nodded.
"Finnick and Kallan Odair. The other sibling pair in the Game. Generally revered to be the hottest family in Panem."
Something more than surprising came from Peeta, beside Katniss on the couch.
"No kidding."
She looked over at him, eyebrows raised, but he was unwavering.
"Finnick," Haymitch began as he started pacing in front of the screen, "won his Games at 14, youngest ever, extremely humble."
"You're kidding," Katniss muttered.
"Yes, I'm kidding. He's a peacock, a total preener. But he's the capitol darling, they love him here. Charming, smart, and extremely skilled in combat, especially in water."
He didn't sound like an easy opponent to beat. Peeta leaned forward on the couch, elbows on his knees. He stared at the screen, between the siblings, but the camera was focused on Finnick.
"What about weaknesses?" He asked Haymitch, just as the camera switched and had more focus on the girl standing beside Finnick. She looked no more than 18, and the family resemblance was definitely there. Her eyes were deep green like Finnick's. Her hair just a bit lighter than his. Hottest family in Panem was a good qualifier for them.
"You're looking at her," Haymitch gestured. "Kallan won the 72nd Games at 15, by drowning her final opponent. When I say skilled in water, trust me. Most of her Games was fought from afar, knife throwing, spears, she doesn't like to get her hands dirty. But, she volunteered for Annie, and also to stop Mags from volunteering. Mags was their mentor, basically raised these kids." Peeta was waiting for the whole weakness part, because nothing about this family sounded weak. The screen showed the clip of Annie sobbing into her hand at the sound of her name, Mags going to raise her hand, and Kallan stepping forward. "Finnick nearly killed someone when Kallan was reaped, he's in this Game for her, it leaves him vulnerable. Tries to protect her, and he will, it exposes him. And not only does Finnick love her, the capitol does too, they'd raise hell if anything happened to her."
"I can see why," Peeta said, earning a look from both Haymitch and Katniss.
"You got something to say?" Haymitch asked, but Peeta just shook his head, watching the screen. Katniss was staring at him, he could feel it, but he didn't let his face go red.
(A/N: I am sorry, but I am not, that I am going to break up one of the best ships of all time, but I'm doing it anyway.)