Over and Over: The 32nd Hunger Games SYOT

Chapter 23

This is a long chapter because instead of neglecting the other Tributes for Castiel's pre-Games arc, I wrote a normal chapter and added him on as an extra. Usually I wouldn't have so many chapters in the Games center, but someone commented that these Tributes were missing some POVs so I went ahead and wrote some.

Adair Outridge POV

My interview was horrible. There was no way I'd get any sponsors, especially with Sky and her big plans. I watched the recap from the common room and tried not to wince. Maybe my allies had better luck.

A lot of weird things had happened since I got Reaped, but I didn't expect a little girl to run into the room and wave at me.

"You're the Tribute this year," she said. How do you even respond to that?

"Yeah, that's me," I replied. She smiled like this was an everyday occurrence.

"I'm Aurora. My dad works here," she said. Oh, it's Erwin's daughter, I thought. She was really cheerful for someone who had him for a dad. She sat on the couch next to me and looked at the interview recaps.

"Do you just run around the Games building?" I asked.

"Mom gets busy, so Dad takes us to work with him. Everyone knows us and they usually fuss. My brothers are probably around somewhere," she said.

"Doesn't Erwin think it's a little scary for kids your age?" I asked. Aurora was what, eight? She shouldn't be anywhere near the Games.

"He says everyone dies anyway and we should get used to it," Aurora said. Sounds like Erwin, I thought. Obviously he'd given up on me. It was hard not to agree with him.

"You don't think I'll die, do you?" I asked with a hopeful smile. Maybe someone disagreed. Aurora looked me over searchingly and put her hand on mine.

"Don't worry. Maybe you'll win," she said. Maybe. Wonderful odds.

Serena Hyland POV

There was so much to be scared of and the Games hadn't even started yet. The interview was over, at least. I didn't have to worry about talking in front of millions of people. I was trying to sleep, but whenever you try to sleep it's suddenly impossible. I knew it was important to be rested for the Games, but the more I tried to get rest, the later it got and the more stressed I grew. I stared at the ceiling and the walls as I tossed in my bed.

Somewhere at home, Philip is probably trying to sleep too. Was he worried about me? Had he already given up on me? I wouldn't have blamed him. I probably wasn't going to come back, and I wanted him to be happy. It was okay if he found someone else.

I tried to think of a bright side, but there really wasn't one. I didn't have a cool mentor like Emmeline. I didn't have skills like the Careers and I wasn't popular like Wyatt. I was a textbook Bloodbath. I would be one of those Tributes who dies on the first day and no one remembers them.

What's it like to be dead? It wasn't possible to just not exist. Something must happen. Maybe everyone who dies in the Games goes to the same place. Maybe we all haunt the Arena where we died. I'd heard stories of Capitol reenactments broken up by unexplained things. That's what they get for playing games on a graveyard. If I was going to spend forever with the other Tributes from this Game, it could be worse. It would be harder for the Careers that died. We'd all hate them. What would we do when we were dead, though? We wouldn't grow up or get jobs. Maybe we just sit around and talk. Wyatt would probably keep us entertained. Didn't Alex have a sister who died in the Games? He was mean and scary, but it would be nice if he could see her again.

I felt better, even though I didn't have any more hope than before. Unless a miracle happened, I wasn't going to live. I couldn't have hope for life, but I could make peace with death. If it was like I imagined, it wasn't too terrible to bear.

Asper Fin POV

"What does it take to be a Victor?" I asked Paul. Something in him shifted as he remembered his Games. It was like his personality left for a moment as he returned to a survival state.

"It's different every year. What worked for me won't work anymore. I won the second Games. There were no Careers yet, and there was still hope that it might be a joke. Some of us didn't even train," he said.

"How did you win?" I asked. I knew the rough answer, but it was so long ago the details were lost.

"I didn't kill anyone. Most of us didn't. Three of us did all of the killing. Most of us died from dehydration or exposure, including the killers. I went on like I was at home, since the Arena was just like Seven," he said. It always seemed like the Victors were larger than life, heroic warriors. Paul just seemed like someone who survived a disaster that took so many other kids. I was happy to hear it was possible to win without killing anyone, though.

"Were you scared?" I asked.

"I was scared at the Bloodbath. After that, the other Tributes seemed distant. I only saw two of them until the Games were over. I pretended I was at home and I was just lost in the woods. Someday I'd find my way home, and I did," he said. Every day I saw more than the Victors were real people. They had fears, dreams, and flaws like the rest of us. Each of them had a story outside the Games. They were more than their victories.

"If I win... never mind. How do you all deal with it?" I asked. I expected Paul to get emotional, but he didn't seem to mind. I was glad I hadn't hurt him.

"It's easy for me. I didn't have to kill anyone. Orchard stayed sane by trading compassion for acceptance. Peppermint pretends all she ever wanted was revenge when we all know she'll never stop mourning her brother. The Careers never learned empathy. Some of the ones who took it hardest are the ones who deserve it least, like Toby. The better a person you are, the more it will hurt," he said. I hoped I was a good person, but maybe in this case it was better to be cruel. Of course, that was all assuming I won. I hoped I did, and I wasn't giving up. It was just hard to fight when I knew winning wouldn't make anything better.

Haber Dasher POV

I was minding my own business trying to eat lunch with the girls when someone interrupted me.

"Hey, Twelve! Want to see if the Gamemakers were right?" Rapture called. He was standing by our table with the rest of his stupid alliance. Priscilla and Margo gave girls a bad name. Instead of joining with us to fight the boys, they preferred to kill their own s*x. I couldn't stand the lot of them.

"What do you bunch of cavemen want?" I snapped back. Rapture tilted his head.

"Sorry, I thought that was pretty clear. We want to know what possessed the Gamemakers to give a toad like you a twelve," Rapture said. Alex looked sidelong at him like he knew the answer. Of course he did- they gave it to me because they saw I was the hero in all this.

"Buzz off, moron. I'm trying to eat here," I said. Rapture growled and grabbed my arm, pulling me to my feet.

"What did you say?" he said.

"Sorry, I thought that was pretty clear," I smirked. Rapture's hands hooked into claws.

"You want to take this outside?" he asked. Some of the other Tributes started looking up at us, and my alliance scattered to other tables. It was all right. I could take care of this by myself.

"What's wrong with right here?" I asked. I could take him any time, any place. Rapture actually laughed.

"Fine. Why don't you take the first shot?" he asked. I drew back a fist to punch him. My hand was halfway to his nose when he brushed it aside and smashed his other fist into my mouth. I yelped as the force knocked me backwards over the table and I landed on the other side. I pressed my hands to my mouth and they came away covered in blood. I stood up shakily, running my tongue over a chipped tooth.

A Peacekeeper ran over and stood between us. "Is there any trouble?" he asked. I glared at him and at Rapture. This was none of a dirty Peacekeeper's business.

"Haber tripped over a table. We were just seeing if she was all right," Margo said. The Peacekeeper looked at me and I nodded. He went away, leaving me facing the Careers.

"Need another helping?" Priscilla asked with a smile. I wiped some blood off my cheek and snarled at them all.

"I'll finish this later. See you in the Games," I said. Rapture turned his back on me and I heard Priscilla laughing as they returned to their table. Stupid Careers. They'll never know what hit them.

Ben Dover POV

I felt the Careers' eyes on me and tried to walk as normally as possible. My limp was only slight, and with the light painkillers the medics had given me it hardly bothered me. I was worried about how it would affect the Games, though. I wouldn't have medicine in the Arena, and in a sprint most of the others could catch me. I'd have to be strong enough to make it not worth their while.

What if I actually win? Maybe the others would overlook me and all assume someone else would kill me. Maybe my family would raise enough money to send me supplies. Maybe... I don't know, maybe mutts would miraculously kill everyone but me. Then what would I do?

The first thing, of course, would be to send food to everyone in Twelve. There would be packages, of course, but I would be rich enough to make sure people ate well all the time, not just once a month. I could fix my foot all the way, or get a cool peg leg or something if it started hurting too much. I could send Jude to one of the colleges in the Capitol. They were technically open to anyone, but they never accepted District applications. They'd have to take his, though, since I'd be famous. We could have all those things people could afford when they weren't starving. Things like matching dishes and a roof that didn't leak and hot running water.

Yeah, that'll happen. Dreams were nice, but they always came to an end. I wasn't a Career or someone strong like Castiel. I was an urchin from Twelve with a bum foot and few prospects. My tombstone would probably say "Ben Dover- well, at least he lived past the Bloodbath". Unless I didn't, but there were enough younger Tributes that I'd probably have time to get away while the Careers focused on them. One thing was for sure. If I was going to have any chance at living, I would have to fight a lot smarter than harder. Looking at the Careers, that just might be possible.

Castiel Wickham POV

It took me two days to find the woman again. I kept looking in all the dark corners and empty stairwells, but when I finally found her, she was sitting on the edge of a fountain near the top of the building. She was looking out the window, and she didn't start when I sat next to her.

"Is it okay if I sit here?" I asked. She didn't even look at me. I didn't want to scare her away, so I planned my actions carefully.

"You're a Victor, right?" I asked. She nodded after a moment, still without looking at me.

"I'm Castiel," I said. She finally turned to face me, and I felt like I'd been blessed.

"Lena," she said. Her gaze remained on me as it had remained in the same spot out the window. It seemed I'd gotten her attention.

"You're always alone," I said. Everyone avoided her. She was a reject, just like me. I'd finally found someone I understood, and it was a speechless addict. She nodded again.

"I am too. Why?" I asked. She turned to the water. It was dyed a deep shade of blue, and she dipped her finger into it. She ran a line of it across the white marble of the fountain. She added more, and I realized she was drawing a picture.

A scene took shape. Her lines were fluid and graceful, like she'd been doing it for years. She drew a girl kneeling before a man and covering her face with her hands. She scooted down the fountain's edge and drew more scenes. The girl holding a paintbrush. The girl in a crowd with a circle around her. The Games Center. Twenty-four children in a row. The girl hiding beside a river. A sword. A boy whose mouth was drawn back in a scream. She drew lines through the children as she drew, until there was only one left. The remaining girl was crying, and she drew a needle beside her. She drew a final portrait of a faceless woman, done in blurred and abstract lines. The drawings covered half of the fountain's edge, a mural showing me the life and thoughts of a woman no one else bothered to notice. I gazed at it in awe. I'd never seen anything so meaningful and valuable. I'd never met such a woman.

"I understand," I said softly. Lena smiled and took my hand. She dipped it into the water and held it over the remaining space on the fountain. With her other hand she outlined a portrait of me. I watched myself take shape like I was being created again, haunted and afraid. I liked seeing us together in ink, like we were really friends. I hesitated. My clumsy efforts would just mar her art. She tapped her hand on the blank space, urging me on. I couldn't deny her. I started to draw, and I added my story to hers.