[ hi yes this is dumber than that time when i stayed up for 36 hours and also dumber than the time i forgot to eat for 36 hours and had to have my mom come pick me up bc my vision was so blurry i couldn't drive

warnings: uhhh revolution, digging up some trauma, medication and probably misuse of medication, language, dumb fucking plot twist, making up weird technology just to do shit that's impossible

stay safe,
lew. ]

——————

Lewis is almost twenty when the Quarter Quell happens.

When the twist is announced, he and the other victors from his District are all frightened. But, he's the only one that breaks down, sobbing into one of the older women's shoulder. He's attached to all these people, and it scares him beyond belief that two more of them are going to die because of these damn 'Games'.

Honestly, he spends most days sedated. After having to mentor the kids barely younger than him, that first year after going through it himself, he got to the point where he couldn't sleep and couldn't function. He just stayed in bed and stared at the wall. With medication from the Capitol, he can at least function in the barest ways to pass as a living being.

Chaff and Seeder end up being the ones chosen. Seeder always lets him hold her hand when he needs to center himself, and Chaff? Always lets him share a drink, even when he probably shouldn't.

He's in the Capitol for the Quarter Quell, 'mentoring' people decades older than him.

He's there, and he gets wrapped up in this giant plot that makes his head spin, even with the pills. The details are so fuzzy, he doesn't even remember how he got wrapped up in it.

Things don't come into focus until he's in District 13. It takes that long for the fog to wear off, plus the shock of finding out that there's life in this so-called toxic wasteland.

They get him in front of the camera crew up in the wreckage of District 13. He's fidgety, kicking his feet, a slight twitching of his head, twisting the plastic hospital bracelet around his wrist as he speaks.

"I know that I'm seen as more of a liability, considering I have no real applicable skills in a war setting. But, like every single one of you should be, I'm sick and tired of the Capitol's hold on everyone, so of course I'm going to try my best to help fight this... this bullshit that's been going on for far too long."

Here, he sighs wearily, glancing up at the sky for a moment before continuing.

"Twenty-three dead kids every year for seventy-four years, plus the additional twenty-four from the second Quarter Quell. That's one thousand, seven hundred, and twenty-six kids we've lost over the years, just to the horrors of the Arena. That doesn't count the kids who've starved in the districts, the ones who couldn't handle their loved ones being chosen, the ones punished with death over minor infractions. That doesn't count the victors we lost in this last Quarter Quell."

"This needs to end. Now. I- I never want another kid to have to go through this. And yet again, I wish that my friend from the Arena had been the one to win, because he'd be a much more fitting person to instill hope."

By the time the final words fall, he's in tears again.

In another attempt they film, they're just past the ruins. He's spoken about how the flowers growing there, although sparse, remind him of his mother and give him a sense of peace. He needs it, because all this propaganda spot is doing is shredding whatever's left of his fragile heart.

"When I was in the Games, I was allied with the tributes from Two. Ruby and— and Logan. I'm responsible for both of their deaths, and it's something that weighs on me heavily every day. I've... I had to spend most of the past few years heavily medicated just to be able to sleep and move around within my own house without seeing them everywhere."

"These people embed themselves in your memories. They crawl inside and make themselves a home. And depending on what you've done, it's either a comfort in your dreams or an assault in your nightmares."

—

One of the former victors, a man from District Three, recruits Lewis to help with remotely directing a rescue attempt in the Capitol, while he breaks into the Capitol's broadcasting network. The video feeds directly from their operatives, a miniature camera in their gear. It's just something to keep him busy. They don't need his limited view and dazed thoughts.

They're there specifically for four people. But as they maneuver down the corridor where their targets are being held, Lewis speaks, albeit shyly, into the microphone feeding to their earpieces.

"If you could, would you mind looking back a few cells down?"

The request is carried out. Even in the grainy images, the face in the cell is recognizable. How could he forget it? The guy lives in his nightmares, daydreams, everything.

"Mr Hawthorne, sir, you need to bring him back with you, I can't explain it—"

—

When the news of their return reaches Lewis, he wastes no time in heading to the hospital wing. It takes pleading and begging to be let in, but finally, he's allowed in after everyone important to the cause is already handled.

His eyes meet Hawthorne's, and the guy who's just barely younger than himself but seems so much bigger and older gestures towards a room in the back. He thanks him timidly, but before he can get to the one person he needs to see, a nurse stops him.

Despite her small stature, she probably could easily push him out the door. But instead of violence, she gently speaks to him. It takes forever for the words and appearances to click in his mind, and he accidentally interrupts her speech about the condition of the person in the room to blurt out:

"Your name— Primrose— 'Believe me', 'trust in me'. Or... the red ones... they mean 'sadness'. But— I like the other meanings better."

It stuns the blonde girl, and she lets him through.

It wasn't his intention to render her speechless, and nothing he's ever prepared for could make him feel ready for this. Beyond this door. The glass is frosted so you can't see but vague details. He takes a deep breath and steps inside.

The person that's been haunting him for three years sits propped up in the bed, hands shaking slightly as he picks up his cup of water. Lewis waits for a few moments, until the cup is safely back on the tray, before clearing his throat softly.

Those familiar honey eyes turn to him, and before anything can be said, Lewis darts across the room and hugs him.

Bewilderment is the primary thing crossing his familiar features as the fragile man- boy, really- gives in and relaxes, probably for the first time in a long while.

If two others in their compound decide to attempt a reunion right now, they'd end up killing each other. Lewis considers himself lucky.

"What's the last thing you did for me?" Lewis demands, face still buried in the other's shoulder. "I need to know it's really you and not anything else."

"You were crying. I wiped away some tears, and you held my hand while the cannon went off," that familiar voice replies. "But I thought I died. The hovercraft picked me up. Then I woke up. Strapped to a table. And then I've spend however long it's been locked in cells."

"It's been a little over three years," he supplies automatically, relaxing further as Logan hugs him back. "I'm so damn sorry for everything and—"

"Don't apologize. You're the reason I'm out now, aren't you?"

Lewis lifts his head then, takes in the washed out appearance of his former ally and friend. "I just asked. I never expected Hawthorne to listen to me. There's like three people he listens to and I'm normally not on the list."

Then, there's just silence, just holding each other close and trying to hold on because that's all they've got.

—

Logan's presence ignites a spark within Lewis that no one expected. They conceal his presence from the cameras, because a dead boy coming back to life is the stuff of fiction even in this world of horror.

But the spark glows bright, a glimmer of hope that he'd abandoned when he lost the hope of seeing his mother again. It dulls every time he's forced to leave his friend's side, but still. It allows him a sense of confidence, a sense of self-worth at the thought that he can actually be of help to the cause now.

And Logan's a valuable asset too, once they decide to trust him.

—

Once the rebellion is over, Lewis heads back to District Eleven just to see the damage. Logan's with him, unsure of where to go, since he really can't go back to his own parents. It sucks, being 'dead'.

Within moments of their arrival, whispering starts. Then, the familiar whistle that hits Lewis like a physical blow to the back, sending him down the steps and into these people's arms.

There's hugs and affection shared throughout the small crowd gathered, but it isn't until the dark-haired girl carrying a small bundle joins the group. She makes eye contact with Logan, and if she's shocked over his presence, she hides it well. She mouths the words 'thank you', and it's then that Lewis sees her and trips over himself to get to her.

It's obvious, when he asks about his mother and brother, that the news isn't good. The pained frown on the girl's face, the shake of her head, the tears that well in her eyes. But getting a closer look at the bundle, and the ginger way he takes it and cradles it close, gives Logan hope for his friend.

It'll take time to heal. But even the deepest wounds close over with enough help.

————————

[ hi yes this is just over 1.7k and i reread all three hunger games books in just over 24 hours so i could match up some details of this to the books.

anyway. i'll post an official 'goodbye' to this book before i officially start posting in the new one.

thank you for taking this journey with me. -xo,lew