Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

I wake to the sound of heavy moaning, the same as every morning. My little cousin Lily lies in a weeping mess at the foot of her bed in our shared room. It’s a difficult day I suppose. The anniversary of her family’s death.

It’s been five years since my father’s younger sister died in a fire, and four since her husband died of “natural causes.” Or at least that’s what his family said. But really we all know he died of a broken and angry heart, no longer able to care for his daughters. It took his death for us to notice there was anything wrong, but by the time we tried to step in, Lily’s younger sister, Moira, was too malnourished for us to do anything. Now Lily lives with us, and every morning begins the same as the last.

“It’s ok Lil,” I whisper as I cradle her in my arms. “They’re in a better place now.”

I don’t really believe it. At least I don’t think I do. But what else is there to say? 'Your parents and sister are dead. Get over it?' No. I can’t say that. And besides, Lily has always been a very sensitive soul, even before her parents died.

When her sister was born, my parents entrusted me to take care of her as her mother laboured and gave birth. I was eight years old and the task made me feel strong and responsible. I took her in and as we were playing with some dolls, I noticed a large bug crawl out from under her dresser so naturally, I stepped on it. Lily began to wail as if I just killed her best friend, and she made me fashion a coffin out of an old jewelry box she had. We spent the afternoon burying it in the yard and reciting a prayer for it. Since then I’ve always been extra sweet with Lily. Because despite all her sensitivities, she really is a very special girl.

“How… do you… know that?” she asks between heaving sobs.

“I don’t,” I reply, “but you’ll drive yourself mad imagining something else.”

She continues to cry, but after a few minutes she whispers against my ear, “I can only imagine the fire. I can only imagine they’re all there and no one will let me near them.”

I begin to think. Lily is only 10, and was only 5 when the fire happened. Moria was 2. How long will it take for her to forget? Or is it a memory that will haunt her for life?

“Think about your favorite place in the world,” I tell her. “What does it look like and what are you doing?”

“I’m in our backyard,” she responds after a minute. “Playing with Moira.”

“Are your parents there?”

“Yes,” she giggles. “Daddy was always the villain. And Mama would run with us from him. And at the last second I would be the one to take him down,” she beams.
My blood runs cold. The truth is my uncle was not a good man. Too many times my aunt would come into the apothecary seeking a salve that would cure her new mysterious ailment. It was always, “Oh don’t worry darling, I just burned myself while making a stew,” or “Ah I’m so clumsy, you know me,” or “I have no idea how I got these bruises, I just woke up with them!”

My mama saw right through it of course, but when I asked about why we’ve never told Daddy, she said it would break his heart to know his best friend was laying hands on his little sister. And that it did.

One day, Auntie came in while my father was working the front desk, and a welt the size of a hefty rock was unmistakable beneath her shirt sleeve. My daddy’s eyes went wide and he started screaming. I don’t remember much after that, my ma took me abruptly from the apothecary and we went to the sweets shop. But when we got back, my dad was asleep and he didn’t wake for days. Mama said he just sometimes needed time to feel better.

The following week Auntie dropped off the kids for a few minutes. She said she needed to get her affairs in order and that she would be back in a few hours. She never returned. Instead, she perished in a mysterious fire. To this day we don’t know how it started. We live in Town, with the rest of the merchants. While all of District 12 is covered in soot and coal dust, the Town is far less likely to spontaneously burst into flame compared to the Seam. Some believe she did it herself. Others believe her husband did it.

When my Aunt died, it’s like a light vanished from my father’s eyes. His easy going, kind personality shifted to a dead one. He no longer partook in family dinners, or wanted to go to the sweets shop with me. He barely seemed to want to live at all. But that changed when Lily and Moira came into the picture. They needed him more than the darkness did. Mama was decent with the business, but the real healer was Daddy. And when he couldn’t save Moira, he hyper focused on keeping Lily alive.

A part of me really resented that he only seemed to come back alive for his niece, but Mama would say that I had her, and Lily had no one. Things have only recently begun to change as I’ve gotten older. He’s having me take more responsibilities, heal people on my own. He seems to really trust me now even if he can’t fully love me or pay attention to me. Perhaps it’s just the fact that Lily is the spitting image of her mother. Maybe he can't help but love her as much as he loved his sister.

“So imagine they are all playing in the backyard then. They’re playing tag and hide and seek, and they’re waiting for you to join them. But they’ll be sad if you join them too soon,” I get back to Lily.

“But why? Don’t they miss me?”

“Of course they do, sweet angel! But it isn’t your time,” I say. “It wasn’t even their time. You have to live life to the fullest because they weren’t given the chance to. You can’t just lose yourself to tears, love. That’s no way to live.”

Chapter Text

Ma calls us downstairs for breakfast. Daddy sits at the head of the table. His blonde hair combed back in a way that both makes him look younger and wise beyond his years. His light blue button up brings out his eyes which are plagued by years of internal battles he never dares mention out loud. Ma is dressed in a bright dandelion yellow dress, her hair done up into a messy bun at the crane of her neck.

“Well good morning to my beautiful girls!” Daddy says as he greets us at the table.

“Good morning Uncle Theo!” yells Lily running toward my father. Her bright blonde curls bounce with every step she takes.

“I’ve set up your plates ladies,” starts Mama. “Just make sure you eat fast. You girls are already running late.”

I look down at the spread on my plate. Ma has made pancakes with chocolate chips and topped with fresh berries. She gave me runny eggs and potatoes as sides. We don’t usually eat this big of a breakfast. Usually we eat bread and porridge before school. No doubt she is trying to make the day as bright as she can for Lily.

“Pancakes!” exclaims Lily as she looks down at the contents of her plate.

“Do you like them darling? I traded for the berries this morning and thought they’d go great with pancakes,” beams my father.

The smile slowly dissipates from my face. It was one thing when I thought this was my mother’s idea but another to know that Daddy is once again prioritizing Lily’s well being. ‘What the hell is wrong with me?’ I begin to think, ‘Why am I so jealous of a 10 year old? Especially one who is mourning her dead family?’

Mama must have noticed my disappointment because she slyly sneaks some whipped cream onto my plate and gives me a wink. She is right of course. Lily will always have my father, but I will always have her.

Daddy rises from his seat and crosses over to Mama. He grabs her waist and pulls her into one of those slow, sweet kisses I have grown accustomed to seeing between the two.

Ma pulls away first, “Hurry up Theodore!” she says as she lightly chastises him, unable to keep the smile from creeping up on her face. “We need to open the apothecary soon. And you girls need to get to school.”

Daddy grins slightly as he walks across the kitchen presumably to open the apothecary. “Don’t forget you’re working after school Asterid!”

“Of course not Daddy! I’ll see you soon!” I exclaim after him. With that, Lily and I take off for school.

The walk to school is fairly short from Town, yet I always make sure we stop by the sweetshop first. The Donners own the sweetshop and I’ve been good friends with the twins since we were small school children.

“Hey Lily!” says Merrilee as she crouches down to hug Lily.

“Hey,” replies Lily as she steps behind me to avoid contact with Merrilee.

Lily is always a little shy around others the first few minutes of meeting them, but she eventually warms up. Maysilee instead nods her greeting toward her and Lily nods it back.

Merrilee and I became friends first, when we were 5 years old. We have the same temperament and it just felt natural that the two of us would get along well. Maysilee came later. At first she didn’t really like me much because I was “taking Merrilee’s attention away from her.” But one day Caesar Strangelove, a rather large merchant’s kid, was picking on Dean Saxe and she surprised me.

The Saxe’s were among the poorest in the Seam and it was clear that he was largely growing out of his clothing. But there was nothing his family could do. Most of us just looked away. If we said anything to anyone Dean’s familial conditions would likely be exposed, and that would end up with him and his brothers being sent to the community home where they would inevitably be put through worse conditions. No one wanted to stand against Caesar either. He did not discriminate between merchant and Seam kids.

As he got older, he started getting more aggressive, and Dean Saxe stayed at the top of his hitlist. One day Dean got tired of the name calling and the incessant bullying and without hesitation fired back his own insult. Caesar did not appreciate his bravery though, and he punched Dean as hard as he could in the face.

Dean immediately fell to the ground, his eye swelling more and more by the minute. Maysilee and I both rushed through the crowd to help. I ran to Dean’s side and hurriedly created a snow pack for his face. Thank god it was the middle of Winter. Maysilee rushed to Caesar and punched him with equal force in the face.

“Why don’t you pick on someone your own size, asshole!” she yelled. “Or at the very least someone who can take your bullshit!”

I had never heard someone use such colorful language before, much less a 7 year old. My parents tended not to swear around me, and when they did they always apologized for it. But not Maysilee Donner. No, she seemed to revel in the fact that she could say these words and no one would reprimand her for it. She was always mean, maybe even just as mean as Caesar himself, but she never punched down unless she really had to.

I will never forget the look on Caesar’s face. This big 10 year old boy who never had to wonder where his next meal was coming from, who could do whatever he wanted whenever he wanted because everyone was just that afraid of him. He had finally met his match and it wasn’t an equally large guy who he could fight in a wrestling match. No, it was a little girl. And he couldn’t really punch her back because even for bullies like Caesar Strangelove, girls were off limits. Especially girls that were younger than you.

Maysilee made her way to me and Dean, who was now sitting up holding the ice pack to his eye. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah I think so,” he replied.

“Good,” she muttered. Then without missing a beat she smacked him on the back of his head.

“Hey! What was that for!”

“You need to learn how to stand up for yourself! Bullies like Strangelove only have power because we let them. If you want I can teach you how to punch, so that at the very least you have a fighting chance the next time you decide to defend yourself.”

He paused to examine her face. “You would do that for me?”

“Of course. Also you need to learn better insults because ‘You look like a frog’ is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” she said with a laugh.

Dean laughed alongside her, and for the first time since I met her, I looked at Maysilee Donner with more than just indifference, but respect and maybe even some admiration.

“Dean, you should come with me,” I started. “We have a balm that should reduce the swelling in your eye at the apothecary.”

“Oh no, thank you though,” he said.

“But Dean, you'll need it. There’s a large cut on your eyelid and it will be very painful without it.”

“It’s ok Asterid! Really I’m fine!”

“Oh my god,” muttered Maysilee. “Just take it!”

“I can’t afford it!” he yelled.

The three of us looked at each other. Of course he can’t. Isn’t that the whole reason he’s in this situation? Because his family doesn’t have the resources to alleviate his pain?

“Just come with me,” I whispered. “My parents don’t have to know.”

Maysilee looked at me with a strange look in her eyes. Maybe she too was just then looking at me for the first time with a sense of respect and admiration. We’ve been friends ever since. Sometimes I think we might be even better friends than me and Merrilee.

Chapter Text

Mrs. Quentin is droning on about coal, same as she always does, but I can’t pay attention. School will be over in 30 minutes and I can’t help but prepare myself for what the day will look like. Usually I enjoy working in the apothecary after school with Daddy, but today is not a normal day. Today is one of the saddest days in our family history, and as much as our focus is on Lily, the day is hard on Daddy too. There were some years where he wouldn’t even leave his bed. That’s changed some in the past couple of years though. I think as Lily gets older and more aware of others he’s afraid to make the day harder on her than it already is, but that doesn’t fully stop him from being a shell of the person he used to be.

Before Lily came to live with us, working with Daddy was my favorite thing in the world. I loved to learn about the plants that could be turned into medicine and used to help our neighbors. He used to sit me up on the counter and tell me stories about his childhood. How he and his siblings would play together in the Meadow. It was interesting to hear about this slightly rebellious act from my otherwise very law abiding father. Town kids didn’t usually venture outside of the fence. They never went far, but they were encouraged to find the plants that would serve the apothecary since the Capitol never sent enough resources for the shop.

Daddy learned how to be a healer from my grandmother, although he always said that it wasn’t something one could learn. He said you were either born a healer or not. It’s why his older brother didn’t inherit the apothecary and instead married into another shop. When I was a kid he used to praise my abilities, saying I was a natural at taking what’s broken and fixing it. And he would always thank me for my help with plenty of cuddles and sweets from the sweetshop. Things are different now. He’s different.

I find Lily after school in the courtyard. She’s talking to a young girl who’s name I don’t know. I can’t help but smile to myself. She doesn’t always have the easiest time making friends and while I love Lily and her adorable charm, she does sometimes prevent me and my friends from speaking openly for fear of being snitched on.

“Penny for your thoughts?” asks a familiar voice behind me.

“Hey! I haven’t seen you in a bit,” I respond. Behind me stands Otho Mellark, the oldest of the baker’s sons. We’ve been friends for as long as I can remember since the bakery stands just a couple shops down the road from the apothecary. “Your ma came in last week, said you and Dori weren’t feeling well?”

“Yeah, we came down with a stomach bug,” he says. “Well, he came down with a stomach bug and I tried to help him through it but I just ended up as sick as him.”

“Ah yes, well sometimes that happens. It’s just the life of a healer,” I shrug. I’m still looking at Lily engaged in a rather riveting conversation with what I really hope is a friend. I wonder what they’re talking about. She deserves to have someone as sweet as her, like me and Merrilee. Or maybe she’ll have a friendship closer to what I have with Maysilee, someone who is brave enough to vocalize what you are too afraid to even think.

“You look happy,” says Otho.

“I do?”

“Yeah,” he pauses to look down at his shoes before whispering, “I like seeing you happy.”

Over the last few months Otho has started making small comments like these that always make me feel weird. There’s a stirring in my chest that makes me feel a bit hollow. I’ve heard my father make similar comments to my mom and it always results in her flashing a smile so bright it could illuminate the darkest of rooms. Whenever Otho makes comments like these I always smile back at him. But it feels wrong somehow. I don’t think my smile can illuminate anything. And the only reason I smile is because I really don’t know how else to respond.

I’m about to say something when he interrupts my thoughts, “Can I walk you home?”

“Sure,” I say, nodding my head towards Lily. “I just need to grab Lily first.”

***

The walk home is nice. With the summer approaching, the weather is finally pleasant again and the rainstorms that have passed left a beautiful showering of dandelions and white clovers. Before leaving the courtyard Merrilee and Maysilee caught sight of me and Otho. Merrilee flashed me a dashing smile and a big thumbs up while Maysilee rolled her eyes.

Lily stands between us while we each take hold of one of her hands. We spend the whole walk listening to her talk about her day and the things that she learned and the people she spoke to. After a while she goes quiet and asks, “Can I swing?”

Otho and I laugh but we indulge her in this pleasantry. We each hold her weight while she swings between us. It isn’t really easy since she is a bit too old for this game and admittedly I am not that strong. But her roaring laugh is worth the struggle and soon enough the three of us are doubled over in laughter.

After it becomes apparent that I can no longer support her weight, Otho makes a move to lift her onto his shoulders for the remainder of our walk. Lily giggles contagiously, and Otho goes to hold my hand. I take his hand and for a brief moment I entertain the idea of a future with Otho. A future where we can freely laugh and hold hands, where our child can giggle with delight as his strong arms wrap around them. But then I remember what that future would mean. I would have to give up the apothecary to go work with him in the bakery, and that child would be put into the reaping year after year, and there would be nothing either of us could do to protect them from harm. And as I’m reminded of this reality I realize, this is not something I ever want to do, not even for a guy like Otho.

As this truth hits me, I am overcome with a heaviness in my chest. It’s like a giant is sitting on me and I have the overwhelming urge to lay in bed and stare at an empty wall. It is not a feeling that I am unfamiliar with, but everytime it comes it scares me. It’s as if my body is not my own. I want to tell Otho as much. I want him to know that I am not what everyone makes me out to be. That I am not perfect, that I am actually broken in ways even I don’t understand. I want to tell him that he deserves to be with someone that could give him the child he wants, that he should be with someone who isn’t a coward, who isn’t a fake, who isn’t insecure, someone who isn’t heartless.

But I could never even begin to put these feelings into words, so instead I let go of his hand and enter the apothecary where my father is waiting. Otho deposits Lily on the ground and promises her that he’ll let her ride him again soon.

“Bye Lily,” he says with a giant smile on his face before turning to me. “Goodbye Asterid.”

I nod once, unable to say a word.

Lily runs to Daddy rambling on about the same things she told me and Otho on our walk. He nods and smiles along, but I can tell the day is slowly weighing on him. He doesn’t really talk much but at least he seems present. Well, at least present enough to follow what Lily is telling him.

I take my place behind the counter organizing the salves, balms, and ointments that Daddy spent the morning creating. I make sure to add them to our inventory taking stock of how much of each plant we’ll need to order from the Capitol for our next shipment. We’re running low on our cooling balm and with the summer quickly approaching, this could be catastrophic. Especially if the Peacekeepers decide to take more extreme approaches for the people who trade in the Hob. It takes everything in me to not go upstairs and lay in bed. Really all I want to do is sleep. A part of me wishes that when I do finally sleep, I never wake up again.

I don’t know how long I’ve been standing there alone with my thoughts before Daddy speaks up, “What’s going on with you Asterid?”

I look around and notice Lily is gone. In fact the sun outside seems to have set significantly since I started taking inventory and organizing the shelves. Did I really lose the entire day to my thoughts? No I couldn’t have. Usually inventory only takes 30 minutes, and I just finished up.

“I think I’m just tired,” I say. I’m about to ask if I can leave when suddenly he steals me away from my thoughts.

“I miss my sister,” he whispers. It’s a rare moment of vulnerability. A moment he hardly ever shows me anymore. I stare at him with bewilderment as he looks to the ground, clears his throat, and continues, “I miss her everyday of course, but today is especially hard.”

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, unable to say anything more comforting to my sweet father. There's a part of me that feels guilty. Like maybe if I told him what I'd seen, the welts and burns and bruises, maybe this all could've been prevented.

“Don’t be,” he replies. “It isn’t your fault. I just want you to know that I understand if today is hard. I understand if some days are really hard. I’m sure it wasn’t easy for you to take in Lily. It sure isn’t easy for me.”

“What? You love Lily,” I say a little harsher than intended.

“Yeah,” he scoffs. “Of course I love Lily. But she looks so much like Allie. And sometimes that’s extremely difficult for me.”

He looks up to the ceiling unable to meet my eyes. I can’t believe what I’m hearing.

“I wish I could go back in time and save her,” he chokes out, tears streaming down his face. “I wish I had never introduced them. I wish I would’ve fought harder for her to leave him. I wish I would’ve fought harder to save the kids after she was gone.”

“Daddy I-”

“You look wrong Asterid,” he interrupts, looking sternly into my eyes.

I’m taken aback. Whatever could he mean?

“I know that look. That look in your eyes,” he explains. “That look that says you want to be gone. I know it. I’ve felt it. And it breaks my heart that you know it too.”

I don’t know what to say. Suddenly everything comes up and I’m no longer able to shove it down. Large sobs escape my body as I try to explain, “Sometimes, I feel so insignificant… as if I could disappear and no one would care. And other times I wish no one did care so that I could.”

He pauses for a while, a sob escaping his mouth, “I’m sorry that you’re plagued with this burden. I’m sorry that I’ve passed this on to you. I wish I could fix it. I wish I could tell you that it will pass, but sometimes that’s just the life of a healer. You aren’t always able to fix what’s broken.”

Chapter Text

I wake up in my bed with a raging headache and tiny little arms wrapped around my torso. It’s not unusual for Lily to sleep with me on the anniversary of her mother’s death, but something about this seems off. As I stare at the small girl clutching my waist I’m reminded of last night’s events.

“I know that look. That look in your eyes, that look that says you want to be gone. I know it. I’ve felt it. And it breaks my heart that you know it too. I wish I could tell you that it will pass, but sometimes that’s just the life of a healer. You aren’t always able to fix what’s broken.”

Last night was supposed to be about Daddy and Lily and here I was making it all about me. I remember running up the stairs in tears. I remember collapsing on the bed as heaving sobs overtook my body. I remember Lily following me and slipping into my bed, playing with my hair in an attempt to soothe me. This poor girl who had everything taken away from her, comforting the one person who should’ve been solely focused on her and her pain.

Suddenly I want to scream. I don’t deserve this little girl, this girl who cries when you kill a bug. I don’t deserve my father. I don’t deserve this family. I want to run off to the woods and never come back. But it’s as if my limbs don’t work. The heaviness that I felt yesterday after my walk with Otho fully encompasses me now and it takes all the strength I have not to start crying again.

My face feels puffy, probably from all the crying, and the headache seems to anger with every waking moment. I know I need to get downstairs. I know I should drink a glass of water and eat a hearty breakfast. I know I should take the home remedy that Daddy keeps in the cupboard for moments just like these. I know I should take a shower. I know this will make me feel better. But I just can’t move.

“Asterid?” asks Lily, shifting her body so she can look at me better. “Are you feeling better?”

I can’t find my voice so instead I nod my gentlest nod. But my body betrays me once again as a silent tear streams down the side of my face.

“Would you like to talk about it?”

I shake my head no, “I just have a headache Lily, it should go away soon.”

“Do you want me to get Uncle Theo?”

Do I? Isn’t Daddy the one who deals with the ailments? Isn’t he always the one who I want when I’m feeling sick? But this isn’t something he can fix. He told me as much last night, and to be honest a part of me feels like I can’t face him. Now that he knows the truth, I feel weirdly ashamed to even be in the same room as him.

As if she could read my thoughts she asks, “Or would you prefer Aunt Phoebe?”

“No it’s ok Lily. Go ahead and get up, Bug, We’re gonna be late for school.”

***

The walk to school is excruciating. Merrilee spends the entire time rambling off about one of her new boys. I swear that girl is so boy-crazy she finds a new guy to obsess over every week. I try to ah and oo in all the appropriate places, but I’m just not in the mood. Normally I am all over her exploits, but today I feel nothing.

“Oh please! He is such a loser Merrilee,” says Maysilee, drawing me out of my funk.

“No he’s not! You only think that because he’s nice!” retorts Merrilee. “I don’t know what your problem with kindness is, but you’ve really gotta get that checked out, sister!”

“Ok I don’t mind nice people! Clearly I like you and Asterid. I just think he’s a pushover. What happens when you are in need of protection? Do you really think he can help in a crisis?”

“He’s not a pushover!”

“Yes he is! Asterid come on back me up here!”

I stare at the twins. For a moment I have some trouble sorting out which is which. For some reason, I am suddenly frustrated. Why are we talking about this? Why does any of this matter? It’s not like she’ll marry him or something. Honestly I don’t even know who we’re talking about!

“I don’t see why it matters Mer. You’re just gonna end up rambling about someone else next week,” I snap.

Maysilee snorts, trying to stifle a laugh, but Merrilee looks genuinely hurt. I know I should apologize. I know I’m being unnecessarily short. But I just don’t care right now. I grab Lily’s arm and pull her towards the school leaving the twins behind.

***

We’re in the music hall when the sirens start. At least half of the Seam kids run out the door before I can fully process what is going on.

“Let’s try and stay inside, kids!” yells Mrs. Quentin. But the kids are already running toward the exit with a terrified look on their face.

Suddenly I realize what’s happening. The siren. They only play it when there’s been an accident in the mines. Before I know it I’m rising from my seat and running after all the dark haired kids who are in desperate need to know if their parents are trapped down there.
I stop at the apothecary on my way to mines. I grab as much first aid equipment as I possibly can. There’s nothing I can do for the men and women trapped under the rubble, but I can certainly help those who made it out and are injured.

Before I know it I’m standing near the front of the mines before a rope that’s preventing anyone from getting too close. I look around at a sea of crying faces, so many of them belonging to my classmates. Dean Saxe stands with his younger brothers on the far left side. I start to make my way towards them, occasionally getting comments such as “Girl what are you doing here?” and “Get back to your side of town!”

“Dean?” I ask.

He turns to me, eyes wide and filled with unshed tears, “What are you doing here Asterid?”

“I figured I could help. I know it isn’t much, and the people trapped down there will likely die. But those who make it out can just as easily die of infection if we don’t clean their wounds, and the Peacekeepers would never let them get help from the doctor, and even if they did, they couldn’t afford it, so I-”

“So you thought you could leech off of vulnerable people?” he interrupts with a disgusted look on his face.

“I’m not charging anyone for my help,” I say, surprised he could think so low of me. It’s been seven years since that fight with Caesar Strangelove. Maybe he doesn’t remember about the salve I snuck out of the apothecary.

His face softens, “I’m sorry Asterid, but I don’t think anyone here is going to let you help.”

“Well I have to try!”

Just then the first round of men begin to make their way out from the elevator. A woman to my right cries out as she rushes to meet what is presumably her husband with three small children at her side. The man looks sturdy, his only ailment seems to be a short limp, but I see no blood and determine that he will likely be ok as long as he didn’t inhale too much smoke. Overall most of these men seem to be in good shape. Maybe there really is no need for me to be here.

Just as I’m beginning to contemplate leaving, the second round of men makes their way out of the elevator, each looking worse than the last. I rush forward to attend them, but a woman stops me in her tracks. “What are you doing girl! Here to finish them off?”

“I am just trying to help!”

“We don’t need your help! Go back to where you came from!”

“Let her help them!” demands Dean. “I know her! Her heart is in the right place, she really is just trying to help.”

“She’s going to charge us an arm and a leg and our people will probably die anyway!”

“She won’t!” roars Dean. “Just let her help!”

They continue fighting, but I’m no longer listening. The carnage in front of my eyes is almost too much for me to handle. I don’t even know where to begin. Every person leaving that elevator is covered in soot and blood. Some are limping, some are gasping for fresh air, some are clearly going to die and there is nothing I can do. What was I thinking? Coming here and giving these people false hope.

A pregnant woman begins to scream as she ducks under the rope to meet her husband.

“Ma’am you can’t be here!” barks a Peacekeeper.

“Please! He can’t walk!”

“Stay behind the rope!” he yells.

I follow her eyesight to a man in the elevator. His face is pale and he barely looks alive. His calf is shredded to pieces, likely from the explosion, and he is bleeding out. If I don’t get to him soon, he will die. The woman continues to yell, and soon enough every Peacekeeper nearby is at her side trying to keep her from rushing to the man.

Quickly, I sneak my way towards him, taking advantage of the distraction. But it’s clear I can’t carry him by myself. Instead, I begin to unravel the gauze and try to pack the wound to stop the bleeding. Dean is right by my side in an instant.

“What do you need?” he asks.

“Take off your shirt. I need to make a tourniquet,” I demand. “Do you have a stick or something we can use to hold it?”

“Hold on,” he says as he makes his way back to his younger brother. When he returns he hands me an arrow. Why does he have this? I’m about to ask as much, but he shoots me a look that says, Not here.

“Dean, we need to move him!”

He nods toward two men that are watching in horror. They make their way toward us, but not before a Peacekeeper slaps me in the face, dropping me to the ground. The taste of blood fills my mouth.

“I thought we said to stay behind the rope!” he barks. He makes a move to grab me, but Dean tackles him to the ground.

“Dean!”

“Justin, Andi! Help her!” he yells at the two men before the Peacekeepers drag him off.

“Take him to the square!” yells the head Peacekeeper.

Justin and Andi are at my side in an instant.

“What do you need?” asks one of them.

“Dean. Dean is - where are they taking him?”

“Don’t worry about Dean right now,” says the other one as he points to the pregnant woman from before. “Do you see that woman there? That’s Clementine. She and Blaine have been trying for a baby for five years, and this is the first pregnancy that’s made it out of the first trimester. We need to help him to help her. Dean is young, we can worry about him later.”

I pause as I gather myself. What did we come here to do? We came here to help. Ok. So what’s the next move? The wound is packed and tied off in a tourniquet to stop the bleeding. Ok. Next we need to clean it. We can’t do that here with the dirt and the soot.

“Take him to the nearest home. We need to clean and repack the wound.”

“We can take him to my place,” says one of the men, “it's the closest.”

“Ok, take him quickly! I need to run to the apothecary to get more things. I can meet you there, how do I find the home?”

“Ask around for Andi’s place.”

And with that I take off running with a speed I didn't know I was capable of.

Chapter Text

“What happened to your face?” asks Mama as I run frantically through the door.

“Where’s Daddy?” I ask, knowing if we need to amputate I’m going to need his help.

“Asterid, what happened to your face?” Mama demands, clearly picking up on my avoidance.

I run behind the counter to get more gauze and a couple of ointments, but honestly I know I’m out of my depth here. Blaine will likely need to have his leg amputated and I’ve never even seen Daddy do one before.

“I… fell,” I mutter as I gather my supplies. “Where is Daddy?”

“He’s asleep. He’s been asleep all day.” she replies with a hint of suspicion. Damn my mother and her knowing ways. “Why aren’t you at school? And why are you getting so many things? Who’s going to pay for that?”

“Mom, I need Daddy!”

“Asterid March, where are you going with so many supplies and why do you need your father?” she yells.

I pause. Mama has never liked it when I give away free services, and this service is by far going to cost us. But I can only imagine what they are doing to Dean right now and it’s all my fault. The least I can do is save the man he sacrificed himself for.

“There was an accident in the mines,” I mutter.

“Asterid,” she shakes her head in exasperation. “What did you get yourself into?”

“I need Daddy’s help, I can’t do this one on my own,” I say. I hesitate before whispering, “I think we might need to amputate.”

She stares at me with an anger I’ve never seen before, but I don’t have time to shrink into it. I need to get the one person who can help me right now. I run upstairs to wake up my father, my mother hot on my trail.

“DADDY!”

He wakes with a start looking around the room as if he can’t quite place his surroundings. He looks rough, like he hasn’t slept in days even though I know for a fact he hasn’t left the bed since our talk last night and it’s late afternoon now. He takes one good look at my face, which no doubt houses a busted lip and is currently bruising my fair skin.

“Asterid, what's wrong?” he says alarmingly.

“We don’t have time for this, Daddy. Please, I need your help!” He gives me a knowing look. He knows someone is hurt, and he knows he is the only person I can trust with this.

“Theo, don’t!” yells my mother as he springs up from bed and hastily puts on his shoes. “We can’t afford this!”

“If my daughter took a beating to help, I am helping!” he yells back before turning to me, “What’s the injury?”

“Umm a young man with a wound to his left calf. He’s lost a lot of blood. I have two people currently helping him clean and repack the wound.”

“Did you tie a tourniquet?”

“Yes,” I pause. “Daddy, I think we have to amputate.”

“Yeah it sounds like we might,” he mutters, rubbing his face with his hands to wipe off the sleepiness.

I watch him run downstairs where I left the pack of medical supplies. He adds a few more things before he turns to me and asks, “Where is he?”

Mama rushes before him and firmly takes a hold of his forearm, “Theodore, please. Please don’t do this. What happens when the Peacekeepers start asking who helped them? You’re gonna put the shop at risk? Your daughter? Me?” she pauses before adding, “Lily?”

Daddy turns to look at me one last time before moving her to the side and rushing out the door.

***

The run to the Seam is quick. We only stop momentarily to ask around for Andi’s place. When we arrive, Blaine seems to have gotten worse. The color has now completely drained from his face, and the wound is red and filled with pus. I know without a doubt that we have to amputate now. We don’t have the meds needed to treat his infection, or the tools to properly close the wound. Even if we don’t amputate it’s unlikely he’ll ever walk again.

I’m a little taken aback, unsure of where to begin, but Daddy is in his element and quickly sets up a station for us to work on in the kitchen. He turns to Justin and Andi, “Do either of you have any liquor?”

“Umm we have rotgut,” replies Justin incredulously. “Need a drink, Doc?”

“Rotgut should work,” He says as he pours a generous amount in a cup before turning to Blaine. “Blaine, drink this. I’m sorry I don’t have any anesthesia, so this will have to do. Drink it. All of it. We’ll use the rest to disinfect the leg and our tools. Now we are also going to need a large cleaver if anyone has one. Or a saw would be best.”

Justin rushes to the kitchen to retrieve the knife, “Sorry, Doc. No saw here. I could run to the Abernathys and see if they have one?”

“No, we don't have time for that.”

I watch as he thoroughly disinfects his tools and gets into position to change this man’s life forever. He examines the tourniquet I made earlier with a nod of approval.

“Ok you two,” he points to Justin and Andi, “find something for him to bite down on and get ready to hold him down while we work. This isn’t going to be a pleasant experience for anyone involved, so prepare yourselves. Asterid, I need you to be ready with the gauze. He’s going to lose a lot more blood and we need to stop it before it’s too late.”

“Wait!” I exclaim. His wife, Clementine, sits in a chair in the corner. She looks exhausted and a little bit in shock. I don’t know much about pregnancy but I’m certain that the fear of your husband dying more than once in a day is not good for either her or the baby. It certainly will not be good for her to see the blood and the inevitable carnage that is about to occur.

“Clementine,” I say to her as I gather her hands in mine, “I promise to take care of your husband to the best of my ability, but I can’t do that with you watching over us.”

She begins to protest, but I cut her off, “Besides I need you to do me a favor. Consider it a payment for our services.”

Her eyes glimmer with understanding. One thing I’ve learned from occasionally helping people from the Seam is that they do not like charity. And they certainly don’t like feeling like they’ve owed someone.

“Can you swing by the Saxe’s and see if they know anything about Dean?”

“Of course,” she says. She pauses to look over at her husband, a silent tear streaming down her face.

“I promise to do my best to save him,” I nod.

She gives me a firm nod in return and rushes out the door.

“ASTERID!” yells Daddy, “We can’t put this off any longer! I need your help!”

I rush to his side, gauze ready in hand. Andi has beads of sweat burrowing down his forehead. Although the wound has been cleaned and we are in better conditions to be doing this, I still worry that our environment is not sterile enough. For a brief moment I’m scared that we are just going to wreck this man’s life and leave him to die a super painful death. I look over at Justin. His face is pale, his long dark hair disheveled. He wears an expression of fear and disgust on his face and he looks as if he’s about to throw up.

“NO!” I yell. “There will be none of this here, do you hear me? You cannot break down right now. You cannot cry, or scream, or vomit. Right now you need to shut your emotions off no matter how much blood you see, no matter how loud Blaine starts screaming. Turn them off or get out!”

Justin looks at me in fear, but quickly fixes his face. This is going to be a long night for all of us.

“Ok, are we ready?,” ask Daddy as he turns to look at each of us. We each give him a silent nod and he turns to look at Blaine. “I’m so sorry, Buddy.”

He uses a small pocket knife that he carries around everywhere and begins to make an incision right above the wound, but below the tourniquet. Blaine screams against the rod Andi put in his mouth as Daddy continues his incision all the way around his leg. He turns to look at Blaine with a grimace as he puts down the pocket knife and switches to the cleaver.

He hesitates a second before swinging down the cleaver with a brutal force, somehow landing in the exact incision he made earlier. There's a splatter of warm thick blood as it coats each of our faces. Blaine lets out a guttural scream so primal, I’m not even sure it’s human. Daddy swings the cleaver again, and again, each time hounding us with the sound of cracking bone. He swings the cleaver one final time as the limb is removed from the rest of Blaine’s body. I try to work quickly packing the wound. Justin and Andi are struggling to hold down Blaine as his screams become louder and louder. I keep wishing he would just pass out, but it isn’t happening.

I go through roll after roll of gauze trying to pack the wound, but the blood isn’t stopping. Daddy rushes to the kitchen for something. I keep looking down at the blood that seems to keep coming no matter how many times I repack the wound. Did we just kill this man? Did I just send his wife away when she should be here saying her final goodbyes? Just then Daddy comes in holding a torch, and hands it to me.

“Asterid, I need some light here. I’m going to see if we can tie off the arteries, but this wasn’t the cleanest amputation, so we may have to cauterize them off instead,” he says.

I remove my hands and the gauze as I try to illuminate the wound. Daddy’s hands are working gently but urgently, phishing around for the arteries. Finally, Daddy’s hands go still and he lets out a large puff of air. “I'm sorry, Buddy,” he whispers to Blaine. “Please do us all a favor and pass out.”

He begins cauterizing the wound. At first, Blaine screams, but eventually his eyes roll to the back of his head and he goes still. Andi leans his head on Blaine’s chest to check if he’s still breathing. He gives us each a small sad nod as Daddy continues working on the leg. When the bleeding has finally stopped, I feel as if I’m taking my first breath of the day.

“Is it over?” I ask.

“Not quite. I need to close off the wound first,” he says. “Asterid, can you retrieve the bag I left in the living room? There’s some surgical thread and a needle in there. I need it.”

I walk over to the living room in a state of dissociation. I’ve seen a lot of blood in my day. Living in District 12 is not easy, especially not with Commander Ross as head Peacekeeper. But I’ve never seen something like this before. Just as I think the nightmare is over, in bursts Briar Saxe, Dean’s younger brother. He’s a year older than me, and I’ve seen him around at school, but I’ve never spoken to him before.

“Asterid,” he says frantically, “We need your help. I-It’s Dean.”

Chapter Text

Daddy said he didn’t need my help with Blaine. That we were pretty much done and to go help my friend. So after he took what he needed from the medical bag, I grabbed the remainder and bolted out the front door. Briar and I ran to Dean’s place as fast as we could. We ran in silence. Afterall, what do you say to someone whose brother just got punished because of you?

When I enter Dean’s place, everything is in chaos. A swarm of people surround him on the kitchen table. An older woman is frantically swatting away flies from the deep gashes in his back. I get to work immediately.

“Hey Dean,” I say to him as I run my fingers through his hair. “I’m gonna take care of you ok? This part is going to hurt a bit.”

He grumbles a response, and I take a deep breath. I’ve had enough screaming for one day. But I know this next part is going to hurt, and I have to brace myself for the sounds that will escape from his mouth.

“Get me as much water in a bucket as you can and any soap you may have. I have to clean his wounds,” I say, turning to Briar. He nods once and immediately gets into action. “Does anyone have any alcohol?”

“Yes,” says the older lady as she runs to grab it. Really what we need is ice of some kind, but with summer fast approaching, the best we can do is clean the wound and keep the bugs from entering. I have a couple balms that may provide some comfort, but really there’s not much I can do. The last time I had to heal Dean we had snow. If only we were so lucky now. If only I didn’t get him into trouble.

Briar and the older woman run back with the supplies. I instruct four different men to hold his limbs down as I proceed to clean and disinfect his wound. As soon as I begin, the rest of the world becomes silent. The only thing I focus on is Dean. His wounds, his pulse, his screams. His screams are barbaric and at one point the older woman stops my hands from working and begins to beg me to stop. Her voice is hoarse, like she’s been screaming for a long time. Maybe she has, I don’t know, but I know that I cannot stop or there could be infection. A familiar voice stops her hands and quietly says, “Stop Barb. She knows what she’s doing.”

I look up and Briar is looking at me with a sad, disengaged look on his face. After cleaning the wound I proceed to rummage through the bag of salves and balms that Daddy and I took from the apothecary, but he’s right. None of this is of much use to me. All of these are used to treat minor cuts and scrapes. Nothing of this caliber will serve him, but just as I’m about to give up, I remember how Daddy told me about his time collecting weeds in the woods for homemade balms and remedies.

“Does anyone have chamomile and tea tree?”

“I do,” says a voice from the back. He looks familiar, but I can’t quite place his face. We look to be around the same age, so it’s likely we go to school together. But he’s got those standard Seam features and a harsh scowl on his face. The type of face I’d be too intimidated to ever initiate contact with.

“Can I have some?” I ask timidly.

“Oh, so you want to get us beat and whipped and then take our resources?” he says righteously. “No. I risk a lashing everytime I go out to get them. They aren’t for your people. You already have everything!”

“It isn’t for me, it’s for Dean! If you’d like I could apply a balm that I know won't do much, and then you can watch him be in more pain than necessary. Or even better, I could just leave.”

“I wish you had just left! Nobody asked for your help! If you had just stayed where you belonged nobody would be in this mess!”

“Enough!” yells Briar. “Dean’s 17. He’s not a baby. He made his choice. These are the consequences. Yeah, maybe he wouldn’t be here if she hadn’t tried to help, but neither would Blaine. Blaine is still alive because of her. Because of her, there will be no funeral for him tonight! And right now, we need her for Dean. So stop being such a baby and go get the herbs, Burdock!”

Burdock glares at me one last time before leaving to get the herbs. I begin to apply an anti fungal cream that I know won’t do much, but I’d love to prevent infection as much as possible. Burdock returns with herbs in hand and his signature scowl. As I reach for the herbs our hands brush up against each other. His hands are unseasonably cold, his grey eyes burrowing effortlessly into my soul.

I split up the herbs and hand the other half back to him. “Here. Wouldn’t want to take all your resources,” I say returning a glare of my own.

He looks slightly taken aback and a little amused which only manages to piss me off more. I take a mortar and pestle and begin creating a wet sheet of herbs on Dean’s back. His eyes flutter slightly in relief as I apply a sheet over his back.

“Is it over?” asks Briar.

“Not really. It would be one thing if we had the Capitol grade meds that could heal him overnight,” I explain. “But we don’t really carry that stuff at the apothecary, and even if we did, it could only be given to Peacekeepers. As much as I’d like to say otherwise, we really only carry meds and balms that can help basic ailments.”

“Why?” he asks disgustedly as if I was the one making these choices for our shop.

“Well,” I say slowly, “I suppose they don’t want us helping each other. What good would a lashing do if you had the resources to heal yourself or your people?”

“So what do we do now?”

“We watch him. Clean and disinfect the wounds periodically. Make sure none of the wounds need stitches. Keep a sheet over it to keep the bugs out and try your best to get him to eat. His appetite is probably going to be low for the first few days. I recommend cabbage soup. It’s easy to digest and it has inflammatory properties.”

“You recommend it do you?” scoffs Burdock. “Have you ever had cabbage soup, princess?”

I pause, challenging him with my eyes, “Yes I have. Especially when we provide free services to our community. I suspect the Marches will be eating cabbage soup everyday for the next three months after today’s excursions.”

A hush falls over the room as Burdock and I stare into each other’s souls. Part of me is mad that he would challenge me like this, as if I’m some stuck up girl with no regard for anyone but herself. Yet, another part of me — perhaps the part of me that is challenging him back — is equally upset with myself. Because despite his harshness, Burdock is right. This never would have happened if I had just stayed in music hall with Mrs. Quentin.

“Thank you so much Asterid!” says Briar, cutting the tension in the room by at least half as I feel my face relax. “What do we owe you?”

“Nothing!”

“But you used that fancy balm, we can’t just not pay you.”

“Briar, as much as it pains be to say this, Burdock is right. This is all my fault. If anything I owe you and your family more than just a sheet of herbs,” I look over at Dean who is now sleeping on his kitchen table. “I’ll be back tomorrow morning to reclean his wounds and create a new sheet of herbs.”

“Thank you,” he says earnestly.

“In the meantime just let him rest, and please keep the bugs out as much as possible,” I say, turning for the door.

***

Daddy and I walk home in silence. By the time we meet back up the sun is gone, and a sleek gray blue washes over District 12. The events of the day have fully caught up to me. My mind, hands, feet, are all crying out for rest. I know the second my head hits the pillow I will be out like a light, though I doubt I will get any restful sleep. I’m sure tonight my dreams will be plagued by the primal screams of both Blaine and Dean, and the sounds of the cleaver crunching through thick bone. I wonder if Lily will want to sleep with me again tonight.

“Before we get home we need to talk,” Daddy mutters as he breaks the thick silence hanging in the air. I can’t say I didn’t expect a lecture, but I am so exhausted, a part of me wants to just lay here in the middle of the road and let sleep overtake me.

“I know. I know I put our family in danger tonight,” I say. “I promise I will make it up to you Daddy, but I really am not in the mood for a lecture.”

“Good thing you’re not getting a lecture.” He stops dead in his tracks as if to emphasize his point, forcing me to look him in the eye.

“What you did today was incredibly stupid. You could have gotten seriously hurt! If Dean hadn’t stepped in it could have been you laying on our kitchen table! And when we get home I’m sure Mama will list off all the horrible ways that today could have ended. But before she does that,” he pauses looking at me with a swell of affection, “Asterid, I am so incredibly proud of you. I know you’re exhausted, and you’ve seen more today than anyone should see in a lifetime, but you did a good thing. A stupid thing, but good nonetheless. You saved a man from dying! A woman from raising a child alone, and a kid from growing up without a father.”

“No, you did that,” I say looking to the ground as I speak. “I got slapped in the face, got my friend brutally hurt, and made a man suffer through what were probably the most painful hours of his life. And now he will never walk again, he will never find work, he won’t be able to provide for his wife and child. I basically sentenced him to a lifetime of suffering.”

“Maybe,” he says, “but you also gave him hope.”

We resume our walk, both wrapped up in our own thoughts before he speaks again, “Blaine was sentenced to a lifetime of suffering long before you were even born.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I knew him before.”

“Is that why you kept calling him Buddy?”

He chuckles softly, “Noticed that, did you?”

I nod once softly, “So you were friends with him?”

“No, actually,” he says, sighing softly, “I was friends with his brother, Tristan. Tristan was actually my best friend. We did everything together. We were like the same person only with different looks, and different privileges.”

“Is that why you stopped being friends?” I ask. “Your different privileges?”

“No.” I keep waiting for him to elaborate, but he seems to have gone off to a different place. Until finally he says, “Well, maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“He was from the Seam. He was the oldest. He had to take out more tesserae. I didn’t… He was reaped when we were 16.”

“Oh,” is all I can say, because with the events tonight I forgot that there’s something worse than the suffering District 12 endures on a daily basis. I forgot about the Games.

“Yeah.”

We drag our feet the final few feet to the apothecary. I’m sure neither of us wants to face Mama right now. I have never seen her as mad as I did this afternoon. A part of me wants to cry like a little kid being scolded in a schoolyard.

“Asterid,” starts Daddy, “no matter what happens after tonight, I want you to promise me to never stop being yourself. Never stop helping people who need help. Never stop giving them hope. Even when they don’t want it, never stop showing them what we can do when we unite.”

Chapter Text

When Daddy and I got home last night, Mama was nowhere to be seen. He looked in their bedroom, I looked all over the apothecary, and I even woke Lily to see if she knew where Mama was. She was gone. And we didn’t know where. Yet her presence held on to the air like an early morning mist, slowly falling on us. It was an angry presence, and we knew we’d have to deal with it eventually, but we were so tired. So we went to bed and promised each other that we would get through it in the morning.

My predictions were correct. When my head hit the pillow I was enveloped in a deep sleep, but the sleep was not restful. All throughout the night I heard Clementine begging the Peacekeepers to let her get to her husband. I heard Blaine’s primal screams and sound of his bone breaking. I heard Dean’s cries and Burdock’s blame. As the nightmares went on they twisted into something nefarious. I saw the deep gashes on Dean’s back filled with flies and maggots. The blood from Blaine’s leg black and burning through the kitchen table.

I’m not sure what time it is now. The sun has not yet risen, but I feel as though it might be breaking dawn soon. This is the third time I’ve woken up, and I’m positive I will not fall asleep again. I do not think I want to. Doesn’t matter. When Mama wakes, I’m sure to be under lock and key, so it’s best I take a trip to the Seam now and help Dean. I need to go quickly if I am to be back before she wakes up.

I tie my hair up messily at the base of my neck and leave in my tattered old shirt and sleep pants. Sneaking slowly into the apothecary, I grab a few sprigs of chamomile and tea tree and a balm that should prevent infection. I know I can’t leave through the front, the bell to the shop will give me away, and the kitchen door is too loud on its hinges. I sneak back up to my room and brace myself to climb down from the second floor window. Thankfully, Lily is a heavy sleeper. I land with a small thud, but overall pretty unharmed and run as fast as I can to the Seam.

***

When I knock on the door to the Saxes’, Burdock opens the door. It’s clear that he wasn’t expecting me because his eyes nearly pop out of his head.

“Asterid, what are you doing here?”

“I’m here to treat Dean,” I say as if it is the most obvious thing in the world. Probably because it is. And just to spite him, I flash the herbs in his face with a sarcastic smile and say, “Don’t worry. This time I brought my own plants.”

He gives a small chuckle and steps aside to let me in. It’s a little awkward. The emotions were so high last night, and although I can’t say that I’m a huge fan of Burdock, I understand that under different circumstances, maybe he would not hate me nearly as much as he does. But he does, and it takes all I can not to hyper focus on the way he stares at me as I make my way through the back to where Dean lies still on the kitchen table. Suddenly I feel a bit self conscious. Maybe I should have gotten dressed for the day before making my way over here. I don’t know why, but I suddenly care that my hair is messy and my clothes are old and torn. But I can’t focus on that, because we aren’t here for Burdock, we are here for Dean.

“Hey Dean,” I whisper as I lean over to talk to him. “I’m so sorry, I have to redress your back and apply a new sheet.”

I begin to grind the herbs as Burdock watches with a curious expression on his face. It’s interesting, the way he hasn’t made a snarky remark yet.

“Why are you here?” I ask, finally breaking the silence. This isn’t his home. He doesn’t have to be here.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“I’m here for Dean.”

“Well so am I.”

I pause to look at him. His face is sincere, his eye bags have dropped significantly since I saw him last night, and he’s developed dark circles that seep into the dark olive skin under his gleaming grey eyes. He no doubt feels exactly like I do: exhausted and defeated.

“Ok,” I pause. I may not trust him very much but the Saxes do, and I know once Ma wakes, the shit will hit the fan at home. Someone here needs to know what to do in case I’m unable to make it. “Come here. I’m going to show you what to do in case I can’t make it here tonight.”

He walks over to me slowly, his face scowling again as if he wants to say something but is biting back his tongue. I begin to show him how to mix the herbs into a thick paste.

“First you want to clean the area. You can do this with soap and water very lightly, you don’t want to injure the skin anymore than it is,” I say as I demonstrate. Dean starts shifting beneath me and groaning slightly. “It’s not going to be pleasant for him, but until his skin starts to scar, we have to do this to prevent infection.”

Burdock nods as he follows along. “Next we add alcohol, right? That’s what you did last night?” he asks with a slight edge to his voice.

“No, we don’t need to disinfect anymore. He should be fine with just a gentle cleanse. Only add alcohol if there’s a lot of bugs around.”

“So then what?

“Then you’re going to rub this balm on the wounds. It’s to prevent infection and hopefully speed up the healing process. Daddy used to use this on me when I would scrape my knees falling down as a kid. It’s got mint in it so it’s also a bit cooling, feels nice. It’s mostly used on superficial wounds, but it’s the best we can do given our resources.”

“So what are the herbs for?”

“These,” I say motioning to the thick paste I’ve concocted, “will hopefully provide a little relief from the pain. It’s not super strong. The chamomile will help with inflammation and calming and the tea tree should add a nice cooling effect. They won’t help much with the healing process, but they should help reduce his discomfort. Just whatever you do, make sure not to apply directly to the wounds.”

“His whole back is wounded, how do I avoid that?” he asks incredulously.

“Apply on the skin around. It’ll take some effort, but it’s not too hard.”

Dean falls back asleep after the paste is applied, and finally I cover him with a fresh sheet to keep out the bugs. The day today is extremely hot, even for a June morning, so this step is especially important. Burdock and I stand in silence as we watch Dean’s back slowly rise and fall with each breath of his deep slumber. Whatever it is he is dreaming right now, I hope it is peaceful.

“Well,” I start, turning toward the door as I grow more and more self conscious of my looks, “I should probably go check on Blaine before heading back.”

“Wait,” cries Burdock while grabbing my forearm. We lock eyes for a second before he lets go. He still wears his signature scowl, but it’s softer now, more reserved. “You said you may not be coming back. Why?” he asks.

“Because,” I begin, searching for the right words that won’t get him yelling at me again. “Things are complicated.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that I didn’t plan to do what I did yesterday. I just sort of started, and then I couldn’t stop. And before I knew it, I was in the apothecary taking things that we can’t afford. I have no idea how we’re going to make up the difference. I mean it’s not like I’ve never given away free services before but definitely not to the extent that I did last night, and when Ma gets up, she’s going to kill me. I will be under huge surveillance, so I want to make sure someone knows what to do in case I fail to sneak out tonight. I’ll try to send my dad out here if he can, but I’m not sure if we can do it. The apothecary will probably also be under huge watch if the Peacekeepers find out what we did.”

He pauses, studying my face. I can feel myself start to blush under his thick gaze.

“Can I walk you over to Blaine’s?”

“Umm -why w-why would y-you do that?”

“If you can’t sneak out tonight someone needs to care for him too right?”

***

Blaine’s amputation sight is as clean as it really can be since it was done in a trauma field and not in a hospital. His stub is red and swollen, but nothing that seems too abnormal. I clean and redress the stub and show Clementine what signs to look out for in case of infection. Either Daddy or myself will be back in a few days to inspect it again and see if we can remove the stitches. After showing both Burdock and Clementine how to clean and redress the stump, Burdock insists on walking me home. Despite myself, I agree.

The walk is awkward. Afterall, he is a bit of a stranger, and we did spend a large chunk of the night yelling at one another. I don’t know what I was thinking, letting him walk me home like this. It is still far too early for anyone to be up, but the sun is starting to show signs of rising and I’d really rather no one see me with him. If Peacekeepers do get involved, I’d rather not give them a reason to place me and Daddy in the Seam or to have a reason to punish Burdock.

“Hey,” he begins as we approach the square, “I’m sorry.”

“What?”

“I was being a dick last night, and it wasn’t fair for me to call you a princess. The truth is I don’t know what your life is like, and it’s unfair of me to assume it’s perfect just because you’re a merchant’s daughter.”

I’m almost too stunned to speak. This is not the same Burdock I met last night. His eyes are softer now, almost lighter. He almost looks boyish, like he’s younger than he is.

“Thank you,” I say sincerely. “You’re not entirely wrong though. Dean did get hurt because of me. And I do have more privileges that you aren’t awarded because you’re from the Seam.”

He nods, and we walk in silence for a few minutes before I continue, “I understand why you’re angry. I get angry too. This life, it isn’t fair. It isn’t fair that people go into those mines, risk their lives everyday, and see very little reward for it. That their kids have to sign up for tesserae because apparently risking your life isn’t worth anything in the eyes of the Capitol. It isn’t fair that the Mellarks survive on stale bread because even they can’t afford the fresh loaves they bake everyday. It isn’t fair that the Capitol holds our resources for natural remedies, and we’re only allowed to sell the packaged shit that they send us. Shit that most people in 12 can’t even afford. And sometimes it arrives already expired. Can you believe that? We have to sell expired medicine!”

I’m not sure why I’m rambling like this. These aren’t sentiments that I’ve never felt before, but I’ve never been so bold as to vocalize them. Especially not to a stranger who for all I know can turn me in for treason. But I look at Burdock and see the same fiery passion in his face. A look that tells me he agrees with everything I’m saying. That fire in his eyes is almost enough to stop me in my tracks, but I’ve already started and now I need to finish.

“You know that’s what they want right? They want the Town folk and the Seam folk to hate each other. To pit us against each other is easier. They don’t have to do as much work,” I pause for a second, collecting my thoughts before whispering, “You know if we all just came together, we would be unstoppable.”

Burdock laughs. It’s a genuine laugh, loud and imposing and a little melodic. A stark contrast from the silent dawn we walk in. I’m not sure what he laughs at but it’s so infectious I can’t help but smile a bit.

“Asterid March,” he says with a slight shake of his head, “you are not at all what I thought you were.”

***

The energy in the house is shrill and heavy, Mama’s anger hangs in the air like a force not to be reckoned with. She doesn’t say anything, but the silence is almost worse than the yelling. She hasn’t said a word to either Daddy or myself and only gives Lily single word answers to any of her questions or comments. It’s the type of anger that even Lily picks up on, and after a while she takes the hint and stops talking.

Daddy and I exchange nervous glances all throughout breakfast until finally it is time to get on with our day. He stands up and hesitates before giving Ma a quick peck on the cheek on his way to the apothecary. In exchange, she returns a glare.

“Asterid,” she says slowly and angrily between clenched teeth, “you are to come home immediately after school.”

“Yes, Mama.”

“I mean it,” she glares. God her eyes are so mad I feel about as small and disgusting as a cockroach.

“I promise, Ma.”

“Good. Now go. I can barely look at you right now.”

Grabbing Lily’s hand, we walk out the kitchen door. We’re quiet on the walk to the Donners. I can tell she’s upset, but she hasn’t said anything. I wonder if Mama told her what me and Daddy were up to last night. Although I doubt it. Surely she wouldn’t risk Lily telling someone and getting Peacekeepers involved.

“Hey,” says Merrilee softly as she greets me outside her door.

“Hey.”

“She’s having one of her episodes,” whispers Maysilee into my ear before we begin walking.

“Why is she going to school then?” I whisper back.

“She wants to see Briar.”

“Briar… Saxe?”

“Yeah,” she says, rolling her eyes. “She heard about Dean.”

“So, she’s dealing with her migraine just to… what? Be nice?”

“Well, you said it yesterday morning. It isn’t gonna last, but she’s trying.”

“What isn’t gonna last?”

“Her and Briar,” she says as she shakes her head and rolls her eyes. “Remember? You got mad because she was talking about him for our entire walk? And then you said it wouldn’t last?”

“Briar Saxe?!” I yell out.

“I knew you weren’t listening!” she exclaims.

“Wait, but he’s from the Seam. Your Dad’s gonna kill you!” I say turning to Merrilee.

“It’s not serious, it was just a crush. I haven't even spoken to him since the third grade when he gave me a white clover after I started crying over one of my headaches. But I know about his brother, and I feel bad. To be honest after our walk yesterday, the appeal kind of wore off on me,” says Merrilee.

“Oh.”

“Is it true?” asks Maysilee, completely changing the subject.

“Is what true?”

“You and Dean?”

“What? No. Who said that?”

“People are talking Asterid,” cuts in Mer. “They say Dean punched a Peacekeeper trying to protect you. And judging from the bruise on your face, I’d say it’s safe to assume that it’s true.”

“I- Well, y-yes, but it’s not like that!”

“What on earth were you thinking?”

“I just wanted to help! Those people don’t deserve to die! And I have the ability to save them. I had to try!”

“Well it was stupid! You could have died Asterid! Peacekeepers have killed for less. And you aren’t out of the clear by the way! Daddy heard the Mayor talking, she’s looking for the person who did it.”

“Well I for one am proud of you,” says Maysilee. “And I’m especially proud of Dean. He’s come a long way from the little boy who let others walk all over him.”

“You know maybe during one of your self defense lessons you could’ve taught him not to tackle Peacekeepers,” I say.

“But what’s the fun in that,” she replies with a grin.

Chapter Text

I’m sitting in the back of Mrs. Quentin’s history class, but I can’t focus on anything. I am so exhausted. This has been the absolute longest week of my life. I’ve been waking everyday at 4:45 to walk the 20 minute walk to the Seam and tend to Dean’s wounds, occasionally checking on Blaine though he seems to be doing much better. He had a slight fever a few days ago, but we were able to cure it using a natural remedy. Tonight, Daddy will head out and remove the stitches. 

My lip has finally healed, and the bruise on my face has faded from black to a gross yellow green color. But it hasn’t stopped the comments. My popularity took a slight hit from the rumors that I am involved with Dean. Caesar Strangelove made a reappearance, calling me a Seam loving slut, and the name has unfortunately stuck. But it’s all alright if it means that Blaine will live and Dean isn’t in pain anymore. 

The District itself is finally starting to heal. For the week after the mine accident, the Commander placed an 8:00 curfew and publicly lashed anyone that broke it. Daddy and I rushed to several different homes to provide comfort, but similarly to Dean, there was little we could do. Without ice, the relief we could provide was minimal, but the families always paid with something. Food, herbs, laundry service. Whatever they could give they gave. The Commander is finally easing up, and the curfew has been lifted.

Daddy started trading for money at the Hob. Mama wasn’t too happy about it, but we had to pay back the Capitol somehow. So slowly, with the items people traded us, Daddy began to make back some of the money we had lost. Still, things were nowhere back to normal. 

Otho hasn’t talked to me in days, and I’m getting a little nervous that he believes the rumors. Maysilee says he’s a boring loser who believes anything he hears. She says I’m better off without him, but I miss him. I miss the security he so often brought, even if it filled me with guilt. Merrilee, on the other hand, has been absent from school all week. With the stress of everything, her migraines have multiplied by the dozen. 

So here I sit in the middle of the most mundane woman’s lecture, trying not to fall asleep and failing miserably. She’s going on and on about Panem pride and Panem history. We have a pop quiz today. It’s supposed to be a surprise —hence the pop in pop quiz—but I know it’s today. I know because today is my birthday. And they always do this quiz on my birthday. 

It’s a month until the Reaping, and already they've begun the process of convincing us that the Games are our fault. As if we were alive during the Uprising. As if our parents were alive. So she’ll continue teaching us her lecture, the way Mr. Pike taught us last year, the way Mr. Hardy will teach us next year. If we make it to next year. 

“Alright students. We have a pop quiz today,” mumbles Mrs. Quentin. “Remember to take your time and don’t look at anybody’s work.”

She passes out the tests, the same ones we take every year. They don’t even bother rearranging the order of the questions or rewording them. I fill it out in a few minutes, and use the remainder of the time staring at my reflection in the window. Lily braided my hair with a pink ribbon this morning. She even picked out an outfit for me to wear: a matching light pink dress with yellow flowers that match the disgusting bruise on my face. She seemed much more excited that it was my birthday than I am. Although these days, not much excites me. 

The bell rings and I go to turn in my paper. Someone nearby mutters, “slut” as I make my way out the door. Ottessa Greene, the grocer’s youngest, smirks at me. She’s always had it out for me. She’s had a crush on Otho Mellark since we were four years old. I bet she loves that he hasn’t spoken to me this whole week. A part of me wants to just punch that smug look off her face. 

Burdock and I have been getting along much better, but when I see him waiting for me in the courtyard my stomach drops. He never speaks to me in school. Is something wrong with Dean? Is it Blaine? Did we miss an infection? Is he dying? 

“Is Dean ok?” I panic. 

“Yeah, he's fine,” he chuckles. “Are you?”

“Yeah, the bruise is going away, and it doesn’t really hurt anymore,” I reply, looking in the courtyard for Lily.

“That’s not what I meant,” he mutters. 

“Aww, looks like she’s collecting another one,” says Jade Penn as her little crew walks by laughing. 

I laugh too, “Ha, that’s so funny Jade! Almost as funny as the time I had to help you get rid of your head lice. How many times did you get them? Three? Poor thing, I wonder why you attract so many vermin.” 

Burdock stifles a laugh as she glares at me in passing. “Wow, Asterid March being mean. I will never get sick of seeing that.” 

“Well, when Maysilee Donner is your best friend, you pick up a thing or two,” I say chuckling alongside him. 

“So this really isn’t getting to you?”

“Well, I can’t say that it’s easy. But, I guess… I just don’t care about most of these people’s opinions.” 

“Most?”

I’m about to clarify but then Otho makes his way toward us, “Asterid.” 

“Hey,” I greet him, quietly looking at the floor.

“Umm… I got you something,” he says, pulling out a small white box from his bag.

“Why?”

“Cause it’s your birthday,” he says sadly, “and I always get you something for your birthday.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.” 

The three of us stand in silence until finally Briar makes his way toward us, rescuing us from the awkwardness. 

“Hey guys!” he says a little too cheerily. He glances nervously at me and Burdock as if he could sense the tension in the group.

“Hey Briar,” says Otho, “How’s Dean doing?”

“He’s doin much better thanks to Asterid here,” he says, giving me a friendly shove on the shoulder and a wink. 

“Yeah, she’s great,” says Otho as I roll my eyes. If I’m so great, why the fuck has he been icing me out all week?

“Asterid, you didn’t come by this morning,” continues Briar. “Are you gonna pass by tonight or should I go get more herbs?” 

“I’ll try to make it, but if I can’t just continue what we’ve been doing all week. He’s doing much better anyway. I think he’ll be back to school next week.” 

He moves forward and engulfs me in a massive hug, “Thank you! Anyway, Burdock and I have to get going. I hope to see you later Asterid!” 

Burdock gives me a look I can’t quite read and he turns away leaving me alone with Otho. 

“You seem to have gotten really close with them,” he mumbles in a tone I don’t quite like.

I glare at him and start making my way toward Lily. She’s talking to her friend, but I don't care. I need to get away from him. People have said some of the nastiest things to me this week, but somehow his silence has hurt me more. 

“I didn’t mean that in a bad way,” he says, catching up to me and forcing me to face him. “I’m just worried that you’re putting yourself in harm's way. Commander Ross may have eased up, but your constant visits to the Seam are going to put you on his map. You have to be smart about this Asterid.”

“So your concern over my safety is why you haven’t spoken to me all week? Do you know how horrible this has all been for me? Do you know what I’ve seen? What plagues my mind everytime I close my eyes? Do you know Otho?” 

“Well I’d imagine it’s Dean. You know I was there when they were whipping him. His screams plague my mind too Asterid! I was the one who got him back home!”

“That still doesn’t answer my question.”

He glares at me, a look I’ve never seen him direct at me and sighs in exasperation. “Well what do you want me to say Asterid?”

“I want you to say that you don’t believe it. I want you to say that we’re still good. That you understand why I did it!”

“But I don't!” he exclaims. “I don’t understand.” 

He takes a deep breath and looks up at the sky as if there’s something up there that could save him from this conversation. 

“I understand that you’re kind and gentle and caring, and that you wanted to help. I even understand that a part of you couldn’t help it, you just ran when you heard the siren. But-” 

He halters for a moment, taking his right hand and caressing my face, softly rubbing his thumb over the bruise on my face so as not to hurt me. His icy blue eyes scan my face with a fiery passion before they burn into my own holding me prisoner. Then in a move so swift I didn’t even see it coming, he presses a firm kiss onto my lips. 

On rare occasions I’ve given customers mouth to mouth in an attempt to get them breathing again, but this is nothing like that. Otho’s lips are warm and inviting, tasting sweet of strawberries. His pressure is firm yet somehow gentle. His eyes are closed, and for a second I think maybe mine should be too. But as quickly as his lips were on me is as quickly as he takes them off. 

“I know there’s nothing going on between you and Dean. And even if there was… I'd support you, Asterid. But I hate the fact that you got hurt. And I HATE the fact that it was Dean Saxe who saved you. Not me.” 

“So you haven’t been speaking to me because you’re -?”

“Jealous.”

“But Dean and I aren’t an item!” I exclaim. “I’ve never even thought of him that way.” 

“I know, but he still got to be your hero that night.” 

“Well, I don’t know about my hero,” I joke. “He should’ve just let them take me away, would’ve saved us all a lot of trouble.” 

“No!” he replies firmly. “I’m glad he did it. But then that’s the worst part. I will forever be indebted to him.”

“Why? It’s not like he saved your life.”

“He may as well have,” he mutters.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“Nothing,” he replies with a shake of his head. “I just want us to go back to normal. Can I please walk you home today?”

He extends his hand to me and I take it with no hesitation. Even though I know there’s no tangible future for us—at least not one where we are both happy—I am just so happy to have him in my life again. I’ve missed my friend. 

Chapter Text

Mama didn’t let Daddy go to the Seam last night. In fact, Mama was like a completely different person yesterday. Usually she goes all out for birthdays, but she barely even acknowledged the day. It’s not like I was super excited about my birthday, but Lily thought we would have some cake the way we usually do and instead was given cabbage soup for dinner. Ma gave me a pointed look and said, “ This is all we can afford right now, Lily. I’m sorry.” 

So this morning, instead of sleeping in the way I had planned, I make my way toward the Seam once again to remove Blaine’s stitches and maybe check up on Dean again, although I’m pretty sure we no longer have to do that. He isn’t bleeding anymore, the skin has begun to scab, and even the bugs have left him alone. It may still be a while before he can sleep on his back, but he’s pretty much healed. 

I’m a little nervous. I’ve given stitches in the past, but they were always on pretty small wounds. Never have I ever had to stitch or remove stitches from a cut so large like Blaine’s. Daddy told me it’ll be the same process, just a snip and a slight pull, but I’m still nervous as hell. I like learning new healing processes, but definitely not on my own. I would feel much better if he could come with me and tell me that I’m doing alright. 

I arrive at Blaine’s a little past 5:00. Clementine opens the door and lets me in. She hands me a cup of mint tea, the way she always does when I come to check on Blaine. Blaine seems in much better spirits today. He sits on the couch eating breakfast, and it seems like the life in his eyes has returned. 

“Well you seem to be doing better!” I exclaim as I rush to greet him.

“I am!” he beams, “Just excited to get these stitches off. No offense doll, but if I never have to see your face again I can die a happy man!”

“Well, here's to hoping!” I laugh. I sit on the floor to examine Blaine’s scar. It looks perfect. The skin has no visible signs of infection, and his fever went away. I feel confident that he’s right. As long as he doesn’t get hurt, I feel our time together has reached its end.

 “Although,” I say as I begin to snip the stitches with my scissors and pluck them out, “I’ll probably be back in a few months to deliver that little ray of sunshine!” 

“Ahh. This little ray of sunshine still has to cook a bit more before we start talking about all that,” chastises Clemmie while rubbing her belly. “Besides, we typically don’t go to the apothecary for births.”

“You know Clemmie, I can always come here if that makes you more comfortable. And I’ve been talking with Daddy and we both agree that we could use some more basics over at the apothecary. Herbs, alcohol, cloths for bandages, that type of stuff. If you’re worried about payment, that is.”

“Oh that reminds me!” exclaims Clementine as she rushes toward the kitchen.

“Here you go sweetheart,” says Clemmie, placing a pretty large bunch of different weeds and herbs on the table beside me. “I know you like the fresh stuff for medicine, but I included some dry stuff as well for tea and cookin!”

 In her other hand, she holds a bouquet of yellow primroses and hands me those too. 

“What are these for?” I ask.

“Oh, those are from Burdock! He told me to hand them to you and to apologize for not giving them to you yesterday.”

“Yesterday?”

“For your birthday!” she clarifies. 

“Oh.”

Why would Burdock get me flowers for my birthday? How did he even know it was my birthday? It’s a nice gesture, I guess. Does he still feel guilty about snapping at me for Dean’s lashing? I thought we got past that. 

“Alright,” I say as I remove the final stitch from Blaine’s stump, “I’m finished! I’ve placed an adhesive on the wound to further support you over the next few weeks. But you can get it wet, which means you can actually bathe! Let it come off on its own, it’ll probably be gone in a couple weeks but if it hasn’t come off in a month, feel free to remove it yourself! I’ve also brought a compression sleeve. You’re gonna want to wear it to reduce swelling. Let me know if anything weird happens in the next 48 hours. If you develop a fever, come get me or Daddy. I’ll be working at the apothecary all day today. Also beware, sometimes with an amputation you can develop something called phantom limb syndrome. It essentially feels like pain in the leg you no longer have. It’s pretty common from what I’ve read. If this happens, don’t freak out. It’s mostly a mental thing rather than a physical one. And one last thing: I know you are excited that this is my last time coming, but I will be back in a month to make sure you’re fully healed.”

Blaine smiles at me and nods his head. He takes a firm grasp of my hand, “Thank you Asterid! Seriously, you saved my life!”

I smile back at him and hug him before thinking.  

“Do you have any crutches or…?” I ask stupidly as he returns my hug.

“Thomas Saxe said he’d bring me a pair when I got the stitches removed. Are you heading that way?”

“Yeah, I was planning on checking on Dean.”

“Perfect, tell Thom to start carving! I survived!”

I laugh and make my way toward the door where Clemmie engulfs me in a side hug, her baby bump preventing her from giving me a full one. 

“I’ll let you know about the birth,” she whispers. “I’ve got to think about it some.” 

“Of course,” I say.

***

“Hey Asterid!” says Briar when he opens the door. “How’s Blaine?”

“He’s great!” I say with a chuckle. “He actually told me to tell your dad to start carving him a pair of crutches!”

He laughs, “I’ll make sure he gets right on that!” 

I make my way through the house. Thomas lies asleep on the couch, his usual spot. Justin sleeps on the floor next to him, though I’ve been over enough times to know that soon he will be waking to start his shift at the mines. Dean lies asleep in his bed where the boys share a bedroom. Joey and Briar share a bunk while Dean gets the only bed. He still lies on his stomach, since the wounds are still sensitive, but they’ve scabbed and will soon become scars. That’s what’s important. 

Truth be told, I don’t need to be here anymore. Briar, Thomas, and Burdock have pretty much got it covered from now on. Dean no longer needs the apothecary balm, and I’ve taught Burdock how to make my concoction. I decided last night that today would be my last visit. There are other lashing victims who haven’t gotten this much attention from me, and if I’m being honest, it’s because it’s unnecessary. I’ve grown to love these stupid boys, especially Joey, but it’s time to say goodbye. I can’t keep waking up this early every day. Especially not now that Blaine no longer needs my constant care. 

“Hey Dean,” I whisper as I brush his hair back from his face.

“Hey Astrid,” he mumbles sleepily. 

“Can I see your back?” I ask gently. 

He sits up and removes his shirt. The scabs are deep and textured. When they inevitably scar, they will forever mark his body with the worst possible moment of his life. But he’s healed. It will take some time before he’s no longer in any pain, but that’s something only time can provide and no fancy apothecary balms will speed up the process. 

“Ok, it looks good!” I say encouragingly. “You know the drill by now,” I remark as I begin applying the concoction to his back. He hisses slightly in relief. When I’m finished he puts his shirt back on and he looks deeply into my eyes. 

“Thank you, Asterid.”

“You don’t have to thank me Dean,” I say, shaking my head. “I did this to you. I am the reason this happened. I’m not being kind by helping you, I’m just paying a debt.”

“That’s not true. You’ve always been kind. You’ve always cared. Seven years ago you helped me without reason. It wasn’t your fault that Caesar hit me, and you still helped. You literally robbed your parents for me. Maybe it was me that was repaying a debt. Did you ever think of that?”

“Well if that’s true then you overcalculated your payment,” I scold. 

“Maybe,” he pauses. “I really am grateful. For what you did then, and for what you’ve done now.”

“I know,” I say. “And I really am grateful for what you did for me. I think Daddy would’ve had a heart attack if he had to heal me from a lashing.” 

Dean’s expression grows dark, “They wouldn’t have given you a lashing. They would’ve done something much worse.”

He’s right. They probably would’ve locked me up and done whatever they wanted to me. The mere thought of their sausage fingers on me makes me shiver. 

“Well then it’s a good thing you’re so brave,” I say with a smile as I caress his face. “Listen Dean, I think I’ve pretty much done everything that I can. You won’t fully stop being in pain for at least another month, but there’s not much we can do for that. I can give you some painkillers, but they’re expensive. I’ve made a large batch of the chamomile and tea tree concoction. I’ll leave it with your dad.”

“Thank you,” he says. 

I nod once, “Go back to sleep.”

I make my way to the living room where Briar sits with two bowls of oatmeal. I don’t usually let him make me breakfast. It feels wrong, taking things from them. He says that it’s his payment for my services over the last two weeks, but really they don’t owe me anything. I take a quick glance at the clock. It’s 5:45, and Burdock is nowhere to be found. He’s usually here by now. I decide to eat with Briar in the meantime. 

“Hey thank you for all you’ve done for him, Asterid,” says Briar as we eat our oatmeal. 

“Gee I’m getting so many thanks today!” I joke. “You don’t have to thank me though Briar. I put him there, it’s my job to make him feel better.”

“That’s not what I mean.” 

I wait for him to continue, but he looks down at his bowl. 

“I just mean that he was never very confident. It’s why he was always being hurt by Caesar. That day—the day Caesar punched him—it meant more to him than he’ll ever admit to you. You taught him that he matters. Maysilee Donner taught him how to stand up for himself, but you taught him that he matters . And after that, well it’s like the brother I knew at home could finally exist outside. You gave him the ability to make real friends, even girlfriends!”

“I think you’re giving me too much credit,” I deflect. “ Dean did those things. Not me.”

“Maybe, but he never would’ve done them if you didn’t show him kindness that day. And for that I will always thank you.” 

“Umm… thanks,” I blush. I really don’t know what else to say. I steal a glance at the clock which now reads 6:00 am, and still there’s no sign of Burdock. But I have to get going. The apothecary will open in an hour and a half and I still have to make my way back before Mama finds out I snuck out. The problem is without Burdock, I have no way of climbing back up my window. 

“Hey, do you know if Burdock is coming?” I ask shyly. 

“No, I’m sorry. Sometimes on Saturdays he spends his entire day in the woods, stocking up for the week or just to sell game at the Hob. I would imagine that if he’s not here by now he’s not coming,” he says, giving me a sad smile. 

“Oh. Ok,” I glance at the flowers and herbs I left on the table and go to pick them up. “Can you thank him for the flowers for me? They’re beautiful.” 

“Of course,” he says and walks me over to the front door. 

“Take care Briar.” 

“You too Asterid.” 

***

The walk home seems longer without him. I keep glancing at the flowers he got me. Primroses are my favorite flower, and he managed to find some in my favorite color. It probably means nothing. Maybe his family makes a big deal about birthdays too, and he felt rude not to get me anything. 

But I’m a little sad that he wasn’t there this morning. Not just because it’s become such a part of my routine, but because this was likely the last time we would ever talk again. He doesn’t usually make an effort to acknowledge me at school, and I’ve got to say I’m a little grateful for that. It’s not that I’m ashamed to be friends with him. Burdock is great, and anyone would be lucky to have him in their life. But the rumors about me have gotten so out of hand, and I don’t see how a  friendship with Burdock Everdeen is going to help my reputation. 

As I approach the apothecary, I realize I’m gripping the primroses in my hand for dear life, and a small tear escapes the corner of my eye. When I woke up this morning, I knew I was saying goodbye to Blaine, Dean, and Briar. But I never would have imagined that I would not get to say goodbye to Burdock.

Chapter Text

The apothecary is running pretty slow today. Daddy made new balms and ointments with the herbs Clemmie gave me last week, and so far, there is quite literally nothing else to do. Mama got a nasty bug the other day and since then, Daddy has been nursing her to health. I usually hate running the apothecary alone, especially on the slow days. It seems as though time only grants permission to overthink, and that is certainly not something I need to be doing right now. Today I don’t mind that it’s slow, because Lily made a friend, and her and Mona are the best entertainment. 

Mona is a sweet little thing, but she doesn’t hesitate to vocalize her opinions. And boy does she have opinions . Honestly, she’s nothing like her older sister, Ottessa, who is nice enough, but she’s very much a follower. If following requires her to be mean, she’ll be mean, but she never voices her own opinions. It’s always the opinions of others. No, Ottessa is reserved, Mona is a talker. She talks about nearly anything and everything. The smallest moment of her mornings can become 30 minute rants about the most interesting things. 

I really am so glad that Lily has made a friend, and it’s very interesting to see them interact. Lily is so shy and Mona is anything but, yet when they talk together, it is almost as if they speak their own language. To an outsider it might seem as if they are simply speaking over each other, but the girls listen. Mona gives Lily advice, and Lily does the same. I’ve never seen Lily be so comfortable around someone who isn’t family, and it really warms my heart that she is beginning to come into her own. 

The bell to the apothecary dings just loud enough to break me out of my staring at the girls. Otho walks in holding a small basket of wild strawberries, his smile so bright it could illuminate the darkest skies. 

“I got you something,” he says.

“What, these are for me?” I ask incredulously

“Well, I had to trade a pretty good loaf of bread, but I think you’re worth it!” he says with a boyish grin. 

There’s only one person in the District that can get these. Burdock Everdeen. I know that he trades with the baker from time to time. The baker has an affinity for fish, and occasionally when the fruit is in season, he’s known to seek out wild berries, the type which can only come from Burdock Everdeen. 

He hasn’t spoken to me since my birthday. Even in those small moments when I try to catch his attention in class, or I try to rush after him in the courtyard, he still avoids me. I don’t know why it bothers me so much. At first, all I wanted to do was thank him for the flowers and maybe get that goodbye I had planned, but now I’m just pissed. Somehow, it makes me even angrier that he’s speaking to Otho and not to me. But Otho is so excited about these stupid strawberries, and I can’t make it seem like I’m not grateful for them. 

“Although, I really came over to ask if you’d be willing to hang out tomorrow after school,” he says, moving the strawberries out of reach. 

“Oh?”

“Yeah, you see, I was thinking we could take these strawberries and maybe some goat cheese and some bread, and we can have a little picnic,” he explains, shifting his weight nervously from foot to foot. 

“Otho, I have to work after school.”

“Dang, I wish I would’ve thought about that!” he exclaims overdramatically. “Oh wait, I did! I already asked your parents if they’d be cool with you ditching the apothecary for one evening, and they said yes.”

“Wait- Mama said yes?”

“Yeah, she actually seemed more into the idea than your dad.” 

“Ummm-” I start. 

Otho and I have been hanging out for as long as I can remember. He’s one of my oldest and closest friends. I love that boy with all my heart. But ever since that kiss, something has changed, and I can’t for the life of me tell if I like the direction it’s going in. I think everyone always expected this to happen. It is a natural progression in Town, for two merchants to be childhood sweethearts. It’s actually quite common. And haven’t I given it some thought as well? What a future with Otho Mellark would be like? It’s not horrible, in fact sometimes I catch myself wishing for it to be true. 

“Ok,” I finally say. He beams a smile so wide, it looks like his face might actually split into two. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow then, Asterid March,” he says as he tips an invisible hat in my direction. 

“Ooooo,” starts Mona in a sing-songy voice, “Asterid’s got a boyfriend!” 

***

Mrs. Quentin is teaching a lesson on mathematics, but no one is really listening to her. With the end of school just three weeks away, everyone’s minds are elsewhere. Some people—mainly Town kids—are contemplating what their summer will look like. What they’ll do on the hours they aren’t working, who they’ll spend their time with, if their romantic lives will have any developments. Most kids though are worried about the Reaping, which will take place after school ends. 

I’m not really worried about any of that though. I stay staring at the back of Burdock Everdeen’s head— the way I have been this entire week—willing him to just turn around and look at me. But of course he doesn’t. The few times I have caught him looking at me, he gives me a look that I can’t quite read. It’s the same look he gave me last week, just before he left with Briar and left me to fend for myself with Otho.  The day passes by in a blur. I’m cognizant enough to know that we had a math quiz today and we got assigned a group project on the properties of coal that’s due at the end of the school year. But I can’t even recall who is in my group. 

“Hey,” says Otho as I find him in the courtyard. 

“Hey,” I reply timidly. We have a date tonight. A real one. Where we both know that it’s a date. A part of me is nervous, but there’s another part of me that feels weird. I can’t quite read it, but it keeps gnawing at me. 

“May I have the pleasure of walking you lovely girls home?” asks Otho in a silly Capitol accent as he turns toward Lily. She giggles and nods hysterically as he gets a hold of her hand and takes my own with his other. I can’t help the smile that creeps onto my face as Lily commences to talk at alarming intervals about her day. It seems Mona is rubbing off on her. See, Otho is great. He’s naturally charming and funny and so sweet with Lily. I could do a whole lot worse than Otho Mellark.

As we approach the apothecary Otho turns to me and says, “Ok, I’ve got to go set some things up, but I’ll pick you up in an hour?”

“Otho, your house is literally like five feet away-”

“Will you just let me be a romantic?” he says half amused, half exasperated. 

“Alright,” I say, smirking. I take Lily’s hand and lead her inside. 

Lily greets Daddy the same way she greets Otho, with a long winded play-by-play of her day. Daddy just sits there and smiles and lets her finish her story. When she’s finally run out of things to say, he gives her a long forehead kiss and sends her to the kitchen, where her after school snack is waiting for her. 

“Are you ready for tonight?” asks Daddy.

“What’s tonight?” I ask, concerned.

“Your date with that baker boy…?”

“Oh, right. Yeah I guess.”

He gives me a funny look I can’t read and begins organizing the balms and ointments he’s been making over the past few days. 

“You know baby, you don’t have to go if you don't want to,” he says gently. 

“Why would I not want to?” I ask defensively. 

“It just seems like you’re not all that excited.” 

“No I am,” I insist, “I am. I just… I’ve never been on a date before, and I-”

“Darling,” interrupts Mama with frantic eyes, “What are you still doing down here?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well…” she eyes me up and down with a slight frown on her face. “Surely you’re not going out with Otho wearing that are you?”

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” I ask.

“Pheeb…” says Daddy with a low growl to his voice. 

“I’m just saying, you have much nicer clothes,” she explains. “Here I’ll help you pick something out, and maybe I can do your hair real special. How about that?”

Truth be told, I don’t really care enough to try this hard. Otho already saw me today, and he seemed perfectly content with my butter yellow blouse and black pants. But Mama has been so cold to me for the last few weeks after the mining accident, and if this helps us get back to the dynamic we had before, then I’m willing to indulge her. 

She rummages through my closet for a worthy dress and settles on a pretty soft blue dress. She says it’ll bring out my eyes. She has a weird a-ha moment where she runs out of my room and into the bedroom she shares with Daddy, pulling out these pretty blue shoes that match the dress. Then she takes my hair out of the braid it was in, forming soft waves around my face. She begins braiding the sides of my hair into two small waterfall braids that are tied at the back of my head with a thin yellow ribbon and places small dried chamomile flowers all around the braids. She even goes so far as to place a little bit of lipstick on my lips and rubs a small amount on my cheeks as blush. Quite honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever looked more beautiful. 

There’s a small knock downstairs at the door to the apothecary, and Mama gives a slight squeal, “You have no idea how long I have waited for this moment, Asterid. From the moment I saw we had a girl, I have been dreaming about the day I could help my princess woo her prince. Promise me you’ll tell me everything when you get home!”

“I promise Mama,” I say with a slight chuckle. This is a side of her I’ve never seen before. 

I walk down the stairs to meet Otho, but come up short when I’m confronted with Burdock. He stands at the counter of the apothecary, his hair wild, his eyes burning with fire. He meets my eyes for the first time in a week and eyes me up and down. I can’t stop staring at him, at the intensity of his burning grey eyes. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Daddy move with an intensity that manages to break me out of my trance. 

“What’s going on?” I ask. 

“I’ve got to go,” says Daddy evasively.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s…” he exchanges a look with Burdock. 

“It’s my mom,” supplies Burdock, his voice thick with emotion. He finally pries his eyes away from me to stare down at his shoes. 

“Well, I’ll come too,” I begin. 

“No!” exclaims Mama. “Otho is waiting for you. It would be rude for you to cancel at the last minute!” 

I don’t know what to do. Every part of me is screaming to go with Daddy, help him out. Help Burdock out. But Mama’s right. Otho will get here any second now. As if conjured up by my mind, he comes through the open door at the apothecary, oblivious to the emergency that’s occurring before him. His eyes hone in on me instantly, and I can see him actually melt as he takes in the sight of me. 

“Wow, Asterid,” he begins, “you look… just… wow.” I can’t help the blush that creeps up on my face. 

“Are you ready to go?” he asks, extending a hand out for me to hold. 

I really am so conflicted. I wonder if it reads across my face. I look from him to Daddy to Burdock, and then back to Otho. I don’t know what to do. I wish someone could tell me what to do. 

“Go ahead Asterid,” says Daddy. “I’ve treated her before, she doesn’t need two physicians.” 

I risk one more glance at Burdock, who is still staring at his shoes and avoiding eye contact. Well, if he doesn’t want me there, I should respect that, and clearly he wants nothing to do with me. So I take a deep breath before fixing a smile on my face and grab Otho’s hand as I follow him out the door. 

He spends the short walk over to his house talking about how beautiful I look, showering me with compliments, but honestly I can’t focus on anything he’s saying. I can only think about Burdock and his mom. What is going on with her? And how often does she get like this if Daddy’s treated her before?

Otho leads me to the backyard of the bakery where the pigsty lies. The Mellarks own a massive apple tree in their backyard, which is currently littered with small apples, not quite ready to be harvested. He’s set the tree up with small lights; beneath it lies a deep purple blanket covered in an assortment of sliced bread, cheeses, and fruit. He holds a small bottle of apple cider in his hand and two fancy glasses. It’s beautiful and likely very expensive, and he’s standing there with a goofy grin on his face as he looks at me like I’m the single greatest thing he’s ever seen. Like I move the sun and the moon for him each day and night. 

I finally take him in for the first time tonight. He wears a light blue button down shirt—I’m pretty sure it’s his Reaping shirt—and some khaki pants. His hair is brushed back and away from face, highlighting his icy blue eyes and the slight stubble that grows on his face. His sleeves are pulled up around his biceps, showcasing the muscles he’s grown over years of kneading dough. He really looks quite beautiful. I haven’t been giving him enough credit. He is no longer that little boy I met all those years ago. In a few months, he will turn 15. Here, stands the makings of what will one day become a very fine man. 

“Have I told you how beautiful you look yet?” he asks with a smile on his face. 

“No actually I don’t think I’ve heard you say that yet,” I reply sarcastically, mirroring his smile with one of my own. 

“Well then,” he begins as he takes a few steps closer to me, “let me be the first to say you look absolutely gorgeous.” 

He leans in for a kiss and this time, I don’t hesitate to kiss him back. His lips are warm and inviting, and gentle. He puts a hand on my lower back and the other on my face. He smells so much like comfort, like yeast and flour and bread. 

We spend much of our date talking about Lily and his little brother Dorian. He just turned 12 and I know Otho is worried since this year will be his first Reaping. I try to comfort him by reminding him that he only has one slip, and his chances of being chosen are slim. But we both know it doesn’t matter. I myself am dreading the day that Lily is eligible for the Reaping. 

I’m having a pretty good time being here with Otho. He, unsurprisingly, is being very romantic. Taking genuine interest in the things I have to say. He listens as I ramble about the plants we use to make different types of medicines and about the different people we’ve been treating over the last week. In turn I try to keep up with him as he talks about the different types of bread they sell in the bakery, and the traditions his dad has created with him and Dori over the years. It takes the sun setting to remind me that this is a date, and that I should probably be getting home soon. But I find that I don’t want to go. Whether that’s because I’m enjoying his company, or because I’m terrified of what I’ll find out about Burdock’s mother when I get home I don’t know. 

Right as the sun lowers itself to the optimum position, illuminating us in a soft orange glow, he refills our glasses and takes my hand, and then he looks at me with the sweetest eyes I’ve ever seen. 

“Asterid March,” he starts, “It has been a pleasure to get to grow up with you all these years.”

I blush slightly as I watch him nervously twiddle his thumbs and risk a few shy glances my way. 

“I was hoping,” he continues, “that you would do me the honor of becoming my girlfriend.”

I’m stunned into silence as I look at his nervous face. The only thing filling the quiet is the sound of my thumping heartbeat which beats so loud, I’m sure even people in the Seam can hear. But it’s Otho, and he’s so… good. And as I sit here with him in this soft light, I think maybe this isn’t such a bad idea. I love him. Maybe not like that, but maybe someday I will get there. 

So, while there’s something gnawing at the pit in my stomach, I say, “Yes.” 

Chapter Text

The apothecary is closed by the time I return home. The house is silent, as if no one inhabited its walls, but I know this isn’t true. Maybe Daddy hasn’t returned home from his visit to the Seam yet. Maybe Ma and Lily have gone to bed, though that seems improbable seeing as how excited Mama was before I left. 

I make my way upstairs to my bedroom only to be greeted by a storm of shrieks and squeals brought forth by Lily, Merrilee, and Mama. Maysilee is also there, but she doesn’t squeal. Although, I can’t help but notice the slight smirk she wears on her face. I notice they’re all wearing their pajamas, and they’ve combined both mine and Lily’s beds into one big massive one. Mama took old bed sheets to create a tent of some sort over the bed the way she used to do when we were little and wanted a sleepover. She has snacks laid out on a board and the entire room has been decorated with small lights.

The five of us break out into a fit of frantic giggles as they hound on me to spill the details on my night with Otho. 

“What did he say about your outfit?” asks Lily while giggling. 

“He said I looked absolutely gorgeous!” I say, trying my best not to blush. 

The girls squeal in excitement as they begin to tell me all the reasons why I should end up with Otho. Lily says I should do it because he’s “super cute” and “very funny” with her. Mama says I should do it because he comes from a good family and will always be able to provide for me. Merrilee says he’s kind. Maysilee says nothing and simply smiles at the girls’ excitement. I let them babble on for a few more minutes before I give them the good news. 

“Well actually,” I begin, “he asked me to be his girlfriend.”

I watch as their faces morph into quiet fascination, trying to gauge what my response was. Even Maysilee looks like she’s holding her breath. It makes me giggle a bit.

“... and I said yes,” I say laughing as they break into a fit of screams and squeals. They rush forward to embrace me and knock me to the ground. We are all laughing as I struggle to get away from their embrace. 

They continue laughing as I manage to break free and make my way toward the bathroom to bathe and join them for bed. Lily, Mer, and May begin singing a stupid song about me and Otho kissing in a tree. I’m about to close the door when I hear Lily ask Merrilee what she thinks our wedding would look like. 

I feel my veins grow cold as I too try to picture this event, but the thought of marriage terrifies me so much, it feels better to just cast it aside and return to it when needed. Besides, I just turned 14. It’ll be four more years before I’m even legally able to marry. And who knows, maybe by then Otho will have moved on to someone else. Or maybe it won't feel as terrifying by then. 

***

I wake to a pile of twisted limbs, and for a second I panic. Then I remember the sleepover and realize that the extra limbs in the bed belong to Merrilee and Maysilee Donner. Lily has her arms wrapped around my torso and her face snuggled up along my neck. I manage to break free from her embrace without waking her and make my way to the bathroom. 

Last night. What happened last night? I came home from school, and Mama was nice to me again. I went on a date with Otho Mellark, and he asked me to be his girlfriend. I said yes. I returned home and Daddy was not back from the Seam. Daddy! 

Burdock’s mom was sick. I try to recall if he ever mentioned her in one of our walks together. I don’t think he did, and if he did, he certainly never mentioned that she was ill. Daddy had said that he’d treated her before and seemed to already know what the problem would be. Maybe he’ll tell me what’s going on. Or maybe not. It seems like Burdock wants absolutely nothing to do with me. I wonder why that is. I must have said something that offended him. But he won’t even talk to me, so I don’t know how to fix it!

I decide to just get ready for the day. Quickly, I brush my teeth and wash my face. I put on a dark brown blouse and some khaki trousers before braiding two braids on the side of my head that lead to a low ponytail in the back. I put on some brown shoes Mama let me have a couple years ago and make my way downstairs. Surely she’ll need some extra help with breakfast since we have guests over. 

“Goodmorning, Mama.”

“Goodmorning, Love,” she sings. 

“What do you need help with?” I ask. 

“Oh absolutely nothing. You just sit there and look pretty like you always do!” 

I chuckle slightly as I take my seat and watch her. I missed this. Her spoiling me just for the sake of making me feel special. It reminds me of when I was a little girl. Daddy would always wake me in time to help Mama with breakfast, but she would never let me. Instead she’d tell Daddy to let me sit on his shoulders and watch her as she cooked, claiming it was “teaching me to be a woman.” Really I think she just liked that Daddy would do whatever she said. 

Daddy walks down the stairs to join us, but he has that faraway look he gets sometimes. Like his eyes are not quite focused. It’s a bit concerning since I don’t think there have been any triggers for this to be happening. Unless something happened last night. 

“Daddy?” I begin. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine darling, just had a rough night is all.”

“What happened with that patient… is she ok?”

“She’s fine.”

“What was wrong with her?”

“She…” he hesitates for a second, “I think maybe you should ask your friend. I don’t feel comfortable talking about his mother without his knowledge.” 

Well that’s a first. Daddy always tells me about his clients. Maybe not always by name, but he makes sure I know what their ailments are in case I have to treat them on my own someday. If he isn’t telling me it can only be because Burdock asked him not to. 

The girls eventually join us and we enjoy a nice long hearty breakfast. It’s the first we’ve had in a while, but enough time has passed for us to have made back some of the money we’ve lost in the mining accident. We aren’t out of the woods yet, and I suspect we’ll still be eating cabbage soup plenty of times in the coming days and maybe weeks, but this morning we have fresh bread and eggs and cheese and each other. 

The Donner twins leave to tend to their own shop since Saturdays usually mean that the merchant kids give their parents a break. I myself make my way to the front of the apothecary. Daddy decides he’s not up to it today, and he makes his way back upstairs to continue sleeping. He only warns me that someone will come by with payment and to keep it hidden from Mama. Whatever that means. 

It’s a beautiful summer day, so I prop open the front door and watch as District 12 beams with life. Outside, families go on walks together. They visit the grocer, the bakery, the sweetshop. There are a few people that stop by the apothecary for basic first aid supplies, but there’s not much more activity than that. Summer typically means we have less patients. Less colds and fevers in the summer means slower business. 

I can see Otho as he shyly makes his way inside the shop. He wears his typical bakery white t-shirt and tan shorts, but he’s missing his little apron. Surely he snuck over here on his break.

“Good afternoon,” he says with a huge smile on his face. 

“Good afternoon,” I reply with a smirk. 

“You know miss, you may just be the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,” he says.

“Oh is that so?”

“It makes me want to steal a kiss from you, but I really shouldn’t.”

“And why is that?”

“Well, my girlfriend might get mad at me,” he says with a smirk. 

“Ohh,” I say, playing along, “let me ask her… mmm… she says it’s ok.”

He chuckles slightly as he leans across the counter to meet my lips. The kiss starts off soft and tender, the way most of our kisses have been. He takes his time with it, as if memorizing the feel of our lips together. Then, as if overcome by a tremendous force, he intensifies the kiss. I can feel his hands as they move from the sides of my face to the back of my head and my neck. The only thing that breaks us free is the sound of someone clearing their throat at the door. 

“Oh! I am so sorry! How can I help you?” I say frantically as Otho suppresses his laughter, and I shoot him a glare. 

“I just came to pay your dad,” says a familiar voice. I look up and see Burdock Everdeen wearing a mortified face that surely matches my own. 

“Umm, he’s not feeling well,” I say. “He’s out for the day, but I can take the payment.”

“Sure,” he says as he approaches the counter apprehensively. He lays a bottle of white liquor and a generous bunch of sage and eucalyptus. We stare at each other awkwardly as neither of us knows how to navigate this situation. I want to ask him if he’s mad at me, or how to fix our friendship. But I don’t even know how to do that without setting him off. 

“How’s your mo-” I start.

“I just came by to drop that off. Make sure your dad gets it,” he says quietly interrupting me as he turns and walks out of the apothecary. 

“What’s going on with you two?” asks Otho. 

“What do you mean?” I say.

“I thought you two were friends. Or at the very least friendly. It just seems like maybe you guys are fighting,” he explains. “Is everything ok?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” I say. “I think he’s just dealing with some family stuff.” 

“Is there any way we can help?” asks Otho. “Maybe I can send him some bread and stuff!”

“No. I don’t think he would accept,” I say quietly. “Burdock’s too proud for that.” 

***

I spend the following week chasing Burdock around school and in the courtyard. If he cares or notices, I don’t know. He doesn’t seem to even take note of me. I try to talk to him in class when Mrs. Quentin makes us grade each other’s papers. I try to talk to him in the cafeteria at lunch when we’re in line to enter. I try to talk to him in the courtyard as we leave class. But ultimately all of my approaches have failed. He wants nothing to do with me, and I wish more than anything to get my friend back. 

I didn’t realize how much Burdock had come to mean to me in the last few weeks. It wasn’t until yesterday morning, when I woke from a dream of him walking me home that I realized just how much I miss him. I guess what I really miss about Burdock is that I never felt the need to pretend to be something or someone I wasn’t. 

I could show up in old tattered clothes and I didn’t feel judged. I could rant about my family life and not feel ungrateful. I could talk about Daddy’s episodes and not feel like I was endangering my family’s image. And on those mornings, where my body felt heavy and my mind was foggy and it took everything in me to force myself out of bed, I didn’t feel broken. He never made me feel broken. 

I have no shortage of friends. I am one of the most popular girls in our school. Even the rumors about Dean didn’t change that. But there’s something about Burdock that no one can match. Merrilee is a sweetheart, and she never fails to spin things into a positive. Maysilee is brave, and gives me the strength I need to have an ounce of courage. Otho is kind, gentle, and reassuring. He never takes what we have for granted. 

But sometimes I feel like even amongst all these people that I’ve been friends with, I’m still playing up a part. I’m still playing the role of a perfect merchant daughter, who never ever has any bad thoughts about anyone or anything. I’m still playing the perfect friend, who is always there for others. I’m still playing up the perfect girlfriend, who does anything she can for her boyfriend. And deep deep within, I know I am sick and tired of playing these roles. 

I think back to my morning walks with Burdock. One of our conversations early on—perhaps our first conversation ever— he had said something along the lines of, “you are not what I expected.” I remember being taken aback at first, and then I was annoyed because what the fuck did he expect? But when those feelings settled, I just remember being relieved that for once in my life, I could be something other than what people expected. After that our conversations flowed easily. 

One time we fell into a long conversation about how boring Mrs. Quentin was and we placed bets as to when she would retire. I think that was the meanest I ever let myself be without reason. Mrs. Quentin never did anything to me other than bore me to sleep in her class, and yet, with Burdock I felt like I could say what I really felt. And he didn’t judge. No, I remember distinctly that he laughed. Hard. I remember because there was something so smooth and beautiful about that laugh. And then I laughed. Hard. And we spent the remainder of our walk complaining about this poor old woman who probably wants to be there less than we do, and laughing until tears were streaming out of our eyes. 

I wish I knew what I had done to make Burdock Everdeen walk out of my life. 

Otho has picked up on this change too because he keeps asking me why Burdock and I aren’t friends anymore. I don’t know what to tell him. I don’t know why he cares. He walks me and Lily home everyday, and lately has even joined our walks to school with the Donner twins. Mer is ecstatic about it, but Maysilee has complained that he’s taking away our girl time. 

Other than a few occasional kisses and a lot more hand holding, not much has changed about our relationship. He still works at the bakery everyday after school. I still work at the apothecary. Sometimes in the evenings he’ll come over and we’ll work on homework together. He gives me a quick peck goodnight, and then he leaves. I don’t know what I was expecting when I agreed to be his girlfriend, but honestly, it’s kind of boring. 

I’m working late tonight on my portion of Mrs. Quentin’s final project. Maysilee, Ottessa, Mark, and Ava are all in my group and we’ve decided to just evenly divide the work. But I’ve been so busy handling the apothecary while Daddy goes who knows where every afternoon, that I’ve completely neglected my work. The project isn’t due until Thursday of next week, but I know I won’t have time next week. 

Next week is a week that will surely be plagued with nightmares. We’re supposed to work normally as if there’s no possibility that our lives may be uprooted forever, but there’s no chance Mama or Daddy will get any sleep next week. Not when the Reaping is so close. 

Thursday is the final day of school for the season, and the following day is the Reaping. A part of me is annoyed that we need to go to school at all this week, but I guess the law is the law. This year, my name is in three times. I know it’s stupid to be scared of such low odds, at least low in comparison to kids from the Seam, but I’m still so terrified of being chosen. I wouldn’t make it a day in the arena, I just know it. 

“Hey, love,” says Daddy, walking into the kitchen where I’m currently sitting working on the project. He fills up a glass of water and sits across the table from me, “What are you doing?”

“Not much, just working on some homework.”

“On what?”

“Properties of coal,” I mutter. 

“Ahh. Better leave you to it then,” he says as he begins to get up. Then, as if changing his mind, he slowly lowers himself back down on the table. “Hey Asterid?”

“Yes?”

“How’s it going with the baker boy?”

“His name is Otho, Daddy,” I say annoyed. For some reason, Daddy never calls him by his name, despite the fact that we’ve lived so close to them all these years. “And it’s going fine.”

“Mmm… You know when your Mama and I started dating, we couldn’t be left alone in a room for more than a few minutes before we started going feral. And anytime I was away from her, I felt such a hollowness in my chest.”

We stare at each other for a few seconds. I don’t know why he’s telling me this. Honestly I’m not really interested in hearing about their premarital sex. No—actually, scratch that—I’m not interested in hearing about their sex life at all.

“I know it’s exciting to have a boyfriend,” he continues, “but I just want you to keep an open mind ok? For me, I was only ever interested in your mom, but she explored relationships with other people. We actually broke up briefly once and I tried dating another girl. But ultimately I realized that no one’s absence made my heart feel as hollow as your mom’s did.”

“Daddy, relax,” I say. “We’ve been dating for a week, we aren’t getting married anytime soon.”

“But does it hurt to be away from him?” he asks. 

This pulls me up short. I mean, not really. But what does that matter? It’s not like he’s ever far from me. We live on the same street, we’re both in the same classroom, we both have the same friends. We don’t spend nearly enough time apart for me to miss him. 

“I don’t see why that matters.”

“Maybe it doesn’t,” he says contemplatively. “Maybe you’d be fine with comfort over love. He can provide you with that much at least. But I want you to find love. I want you to be excited to wake up next to the love of your life every day.”

“I think Otho does love me!” I exclaim. 

“Oh no doubt about it,” he says. “But do you love him?”

“Of course I do,” I say. “I’ve loved him my whole life.” 

“Mmm,” he says, and resumes to stand from the table. “I’ll let you get back to your project sweetheart. Try not to be up too late!” 

Chapter Text

June 30th

When I wake up this morning, I immediately know it’ll be a bad day, but that’s to be expected. It’s the last week of school, which means we’ll take pointless exams everyday this week, and on Friday, two of us will be sent to our death. 

Lily slept in my bed last night, as she’ll sleep tomorrow night, as she’ll sleep the night after that, and the night after that, until the Games are over. The poor girl is terrified that I’ll be chosen. It doesn’t matter how often I explain that my odds are super low, she still gets nightmares every year. At least we still have two years before either of us have to worry about her odds. 

I don’t want to do anything. I don’t want to get up, and I certainly don’t want to go to school. It doesn’t help that Lily lays with all her weight on me, making our sleep so deliciously enticing. If I could lay like this forever, I could die in peace. She begins to cry herself awake the way she’s been doing all weekend. The sooner Friday approaches, the higher her anxiety gets. A part of me wants to reassure her, but I know that there’s nothing I can say to make the situation better. It’s not like it’s up to me. If it were up to me, no one would be reaped, and there would be no Hunger Games. 

“Lily, come on,” I say, my voice heavy with sleep. “We have to get ready. Come on.”

She gets up but doesn’t say anything. All morning she cries. She cries when she brushes her teeth. She cries as she gets dressed. She cries all throughout breakfast. It isn’t until Otho picks us up that she’s able to stop.

“Hey sweet thing!” he says, kneeling to the floor to greet her. 

She returns a soft smile, but she doesn’t laugh the way she normally would. She doesn’t even go to hold his hand or ask him to carry her. She simply continues grasping my arm tightly as we walk over to the Donner’s shop. 

“Are you guys ok?” asks Otho. I realize I haven’t said a word to him yet. 

“Yeah. Just… didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“Hey,” he says, grasping my chin and forcing me to look at him. “We’re going to be ok. Nothing’s going to happen.” 

“Yeah.”

We pick up the Donner twins, one who doesn’t speak due to her debilitating headache, the other who spends the morning talking for all of us. 

“I mean, how ridiculous! ‘Hey kids! Two of you are going to die! How about you take a bunch of stupid tests beforehand so that we really know your life isn't worth saving!’” she says, mocking the Capitol. 

“Maysilee!” I say, shooting a pointed glare her way. That’s not the type of talk you can say out in the open. Not when Peacekeeper presence will continue increasing as the date approaches. Not to mention that it gets Lily sobbing again. 

“I’m sorry, Lil,” Maysilee says trying to comfort her. “I didn’t mean that! I was just joking.” 

“That's… a mean… joke,” cries Lily. It’s bad. So bad that we have to stop walking as I try to comfort my little girl. 

“It’s ok, sweet girl. I promise no matter what happens, you will be ok!” I say to her between wails. I turn to the rest of the group, “You should just go ahead without us.” 

“I’m sorry Lil,” says Maysilee one more time before turning to Merrilee and walking their way to school. Otho lingers behind. 

It’s kind of annoying actually. I really don’t even want to have to comfort Lily. I just want to turn back around and lay in bed and let a Peacekeeper kill me if they so choose. I don’t want to go to school. I don’t want to think. I don’t want to do anything but lay down and never wake up. And here he is. Staying behind to help me. I don’t really want his help. She’s my cousin not his. 

She doesn’t let up though. Her tears are plentiful, and I know if I don’t get her to stop soon, she’ll have a raging headache for the rest of the day, which is not really what you want when you’re set to take exams all day. 

Instead of saying any more comforting words, I just go to pick her up. She’s a little heavier than I expected, but we are nearly at school anyway. 

“Do you want me to carry her?” asks Otho.

I don’t have to answer him though, because the second he asks, Lily decides to throw a fit, “NO! NO! I JUST WANT ASTERID!”

We arrive at school five minutes early, a bit later than we usually do. I find the twins again and we spend the remaining time together, Lily still tucked into my arms. 

“Hey are you ok?” asks Otho. 

“Yeah, why do you ask?”

“You’re just very quiet right now. Something seems off.”

“Nothing’s off!” I say, annoyed that he just doesn’t seem to want to back off this morning.

When the first bell rings to signal the start of class, Lily clings on one final time. I have to literally pry her tiny hands off of me. 

“Lily,” I say, “I’m just going to class. You will see me in a few hours. I promise!” 

She gives me one final hug and reluctantly joins Mona and heads for class. Ottessa Greene joins the twins to talk to May about our final project. I should probably be involved in that conversation, but I just don’t care. I find it especially hard to care about anything today.

“Hey!” says Otho.

“What?”

“I just asked what you’re doing tonight! Seriously, what’s going on with you?”

“Nothing!” I reply shortly. 

“Ok, you don’t have to snap at me!” he exclaims. “You’ve been short with me all day.”

“Listen,” I huff, “I’ve just had a very long morning, and I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“That’s all you had to say,” he says softly and proceeds to walk away.

“Otho!” I yell after him, but it’s no use. He’s already dashed away from me and sitting in his seat.

***

The day gets away from me. I don’t even know how I get home, but I do. I’m sitting at the counter of the apothecary as Lily sits in the chair next to me, chatting about her day. It’s not animated, the way she usually is, but it’s a rough week for all of us. I’m just grateful she’s talking again. Daddy stands at the table next to us, creating some sort of concoction. He’s been making a lot of new medicines that he won’t tell me about. I don’t even know what they’re meant to be treating. 

The bell to the front of the shop dings, and I see Otho walk in with a bouquet of flowers and a small paper bag. 

“Hey,” he says. 

“Hey,” I reply with a soft scowl.  

“These are for you,” he says, laying the flowers gently on the counter. He hands the paper bag to Lily, which no doubt holds a good amount of cookies, “And these are for you.”

Daddy gives me a lingering look as he tries to assess the situation, but it doesn’t take a body language expert to know Otho and I are upset with each other. “Hey Lily! Let’s go put these beautiful flowers in some water!” says Daddy, giving me and Otho some alone time. 

“Listen,” starts Otho. “I’m sorry if I was being pushy this morning. It’s just that I’ve been feeling really anxious with the whole Reaping thing, and I know our odds are low, but they aren’t zero.” 

“No Otho,” I say, shaking my head. “I was being rude. You have every right to be anxious. I can’t even imagine what it’ll be like when Lily becomes eligible for the Reaping, and you’re worried about Dorian. And you were just trying to make the best of a bad situation, and I blew up in your face.”

“Yes, but I knew you weren’t in the mood, and I pushed anyway! You also have every right to handle this in whatever way you can!” 

I give him a big sigh, “Truce?”

“Truce!”

I walk around the counter to embrace him. In all my worrying about the Reaping, I hadn’t even considered the fact that now I have to worry about Otho as well. I mean, I always worry about Otho of course, but this year it’ll be different. If he gets chosen, it won’t just be my friend who’ll die, it’ll be a guy I might actually marry one day. Maybe his anxieties about my eligibility lie in a similar realm. The fact that someone we love might very well die in a couple weeks. 

“Listen, whatever happens, I love you,” I say.

He pulls back slightly to look at my face and runs his thumb across my cheek, “I love you too.”

July 2nd

The energy in school is getting weird. People are anxious to just get through the next few days, and then hide in their responsibilities for the rest of the summer. Poor Merrilee’s migraines are getting worse, but we already knew that would happen. It happens every year. 

Otho and I have decided to spend as much time together as possible. Whenever we can, we include the twins, or Lily, or Dorian, but it’s been nice getting to spend this much time with him. A part of me still feels bad about blowing up on him on Monday, and I hope to be making it up to him right now. 

We’re beginning our final presentations in class today. Mrs. Quentin decided to pass out our math exams beforehand to really get people excited about the properties of coal. Everyone was assigned the same project, so class is sure to be extra boring today. 

Our table is very quiet these days, as are most others in the cafeteria. I sit across the table from Otho, who sits with his friends George and Oscar. Maysilee and I presented our project this morning, though if I’m honest I’m not sure I really remember it. I seem to just be floating through my days lately, not really ever present. I want to snap out of it, I do! I really really do! But there’s just such a heavy feeling in my chest, and it’s been present all week. Sometimes I’m afraid it won’t ever really go away. 

May and I sit quietly next to Merrilee, trying our hardest not to make her migraine worse. We don’t speak of the Reaping. We can’t. Nobody can stomach it to think about the probability of our friends being chosen. District 12 is small, which means that even if you or your friends aren’t chosen, you’ll probably still know the selected tributes. Maybe not well, but you’ll know of their existence and eventually their death. I wish I could be one of those people that can brush it off, but I can’t. Every year has been the same since I was a little girl. Every time our tributes die — and they always die — I feel as if it is impossible to ever feel anything good again. 

We return to class after lunch, only to continue with our boring presentations, but the whole time I find myself drifting off to really dark places. Weird fantasies of being chosen plague my mind. Fantasies of my loved ones being chosen plague my mind as well. I watch as Otho gets his throat slit open by a District 2 career. I watch as Merrilee’s migraines debilitate her completely and she starves to death. I watch as Maysilee is killed brutally by whatever horrific mutts the Gamemakers come up with this year. 

My eyes drift naturally to Burdock. I try to imagine a scenario in which he is chosen for the Games and inevitably dies, but I am unable to come up with one. I have the sneaking suspicion that if Burdock Everdeen were chosen for the Games, he would win the whole thing. He’s certainly charming and handsome enough to win over sponsors. And he knows his way around with a bow and arrow, although I’ve yet to see him in action myself. Yes, if Burdock were chosen he would probably win. Or maybe he would starve to death like everyone else in District 12 usually does. Who knows?

The bell rings, and we make our way to the courtyard. A part of me wants to go to Burdock again, to try and get him to talk to me, but I’ve decided to just give up on that. If he doesn’t want to be my friend, that’s fine. I was hoping to resolve our situation before the Reaping, but I’ve opted to let us be. If he gets chosen on Friday, I’ll say my goodbye to him at the Justice Building. If I am chosen I’d like to believe that he’ll visit me too. Although even if he doesn’t, it won’t matter. I’ll have bigger things to worry about than Burdock Everdeen’s friendship. 

I walk home with Lily, Otho, and Dori, who like Lily, clings onto his brother with a mighty force. Lily’s squeezing my hand so hard, I think she might seriously be cutting off my circulation. Otho and I part ways with a kiss and make our way to our respective homes. 

I have to work at the apothecary until closing today, as Daddy has resolved himself to working on a new medicine. Again, he won’t tell me what or who it’s for. Like most days in the summer, the apothecary runs quite slow. For a while Lily keeps me company, braiding my hair or playing cards with me or simply completing her homework besides me — although we don’t really have much homework this late in the year. Sometimes Mama comes downstairs to give us snacks and take over while I take a quick break, but for the most part I am alone. 

I watch Otho come in a few hours later, covered in flour and smelling so sweetly of yeast. “Hey,” he greets me. 

“Hey,” I reply, “I thought you weren’t coming over tonight.” 

“Oh I’m not. I promised Dori I’d spend the evening with him. I just wanted to ask if you and Lily would come over tomorrow night after the bakery’s closed.” 

“Oh. Ummm. Maybe?” I start. “What did you have in mind?”

“Well… Daddy and I had this tradition of making cookies the night before the Reaping and I was hoping you’d come over. He’s letting me take point this year, and I thought you might like being a part of it.” 

“Do you usually sell a lot of cookies on Reaping day?” I ask. I know everyone typically buys luxuries on Reaping day because surviving the Reaping is a point of celebration. Even Seam families splurge on something nice, but I can’t imagine they sell so many that they’d need to get started the night before. 

“Umm… the cookies aren’t exactly for sale. We um… we bake them for the tributes,” he whispers sadly. 

I look at the boy before me with wonder. How could I ever have gotten so lucky as to have a boy like this love me? Otho has always been caring, a quality that he surely gets from his dad, but I never would have imagined that the Mellarks are so kind they’d be willing to lose money just to comfort two kids who may never have had the luxury of tasting their cookies. 

“Of course I’ll come,” I say, rubbing my thumbs across his cheeks. “I’m sure Lily would love to come as well.” 

“Ok, good,” he says. “I’ll see you two tomorrow!”

After an hour more of little to no customers, I decide to start cleaning up for the night. I put away any products that need to be shelved, wipe down the counter, sweep the floor, and lock the front door. There wasn’t much business today, which means there isn’t much to clean. Lily left to have dinner with Mama about an hour ago. She’s probably already getting ready for bed. I’m about to join her upstairs when I hear a commotion in Daddy’s office.

“Fuck!” he yells out.

“What’s wrong?” I exclaim as I run toward the office thinking he’s hurt. Instead, I find that he’s seated at his desk with his head in his hands, a small jar of weird herbs sitting in front of him. I make my way slowly to him, trying to shake him out of the state that he’s in. 

“Daddy?”

His head snaps up from his hands, as if he forgot where he was. A small trail of tears stains his cheeks as his face softens. 

“I’m sorry, Love. I’m just a bit frustrated,” he responds, shaking his head slightly. 

“You know if you just told me what you’re working on, I might be able to help you!” 

He hesitates for a second before speaking again “I’m not sure how much help you can be. They’re going to die anyway. I’m just hoping to make the process less painful,” he whispers sadly.

“What are they dying of?” I ask.

“Respiratory issues. Specifically Black Lung. They have a lung infection.” 

“What have you tried?”

“I’ve tried antibiotics, I’ve tried cough syrup enhanced with elderberry and ginger, I’ve tried licorice, I’ve tried eucalyptus. I’ve even thought about queen anne’s lace, but that was a bust. I don’t know what else I can do!” he yells out. “I feel like I’m failing this family.” 

“Daddy,” I start, “unless you yourself forced them to inhale coal dust, you’ve done nothing wrong. It isn’t anybody’s fault. This is just the way things are.” 

We sit quietly in the dark. The Black Lung. It’s a condition Daddy hates to treat, because there really is nothing that can be done. It’s horrible and painful, and it takes the life out of not just the patient, but their family as well. Daddy was right though, there are some things you just can’t fix. That’s the life of a healer. 

I sit for a second racking my brian for a solution, something he hasn’t thought of yet. It’s a little ridiculous to think about. I mean, he has over two decade’s experience under his belt. But then I have it. We have a garden in our back yard full of medicinal herbs that require extra attention to be turned into medicine. 

“Have you tried Burdock yet?” I ask.

“What?” he says surprised. 

“Burdock. The root. Have you tried that yet?”

“I’ve thought about it,” he says. “But we don’t have a lot of it in the apothecary, and the first year plants won’t be ready to be harvested until late fall.”

“What about the ones we harvested this spring?”

“Those are better suited for culinary use. They have little medicinal value left.”

“Can’t you try anyway?” I ask. 

“Maybe,” he whispers. “Though I’m not going to lie, Love. I’m about ready to give up.”

July 3rd

Lily is ecstatic. It’s the first time all week that she’s gotten up without crying. Of course we still have to get through a full day of school, but nevertheless, she can’t wait to learn to make cookies with Otho. I wish I didn’t feel so miserable so that I could be just as happy as her, but today is a really hard day. It’s a miracle I’m even able to get out of bed today. 

“Oh how sweet of Otho to include Lily on your date!” gushes Mama over breakfast.

“It’s not a date if there are two other children present, Ma,” I say annoyed. 

“Well, it’s still sweet of him to include her!” She continues gushing about Otho, occasionally making jokes about our wedding, which I can’t help but notice how Daddy cringes slightly at. I can’t really hear her after a while, I resolve to just stare at the wall and let the world go quiet around me. 

“Asterid!” exclaims Daddy. 

“What?”

He stares at me for a moment and gives me a sad smile. “Hold on,” he says, as he gets up from the table and enters the apothecary. I now stare at my plate, which is still full of sad bland oatmeal. Lily and Mama are talking, but I can’t hear a thing they say. At least Lily is in better spirits. It is exhausting to have to pretend to be fine for her benefit. 

Daddy returns from the apothecary with a small jar of dried herbs. He proceeds to pull a kettle from the cupboard and begins to bring some water to boil. Mama stares at the jar in his hands for a long time and then at him. They seem to be engaging in some sort of silent conversation that neither Lily or I are privy to. 

“Hey Darling, can you please go open the apothecary?” he asks, tossing her the keys.
“I have some medicines I need to work on.”

She gives him a suspicious stare, as if she doesn’t believe him. But ultimately, she nods, and makes her way to the apothecary to open up. When the water comes to a boil, Daddy steeps the herbs he brought from the shop. After a few minutes, he fills two mugs with the tea and adds some honey before bringing them over to the table. He hands me one of the mugs and takes the other himself. 

“What’s this?” I ask. 

“It’s tea.”

“Well, yes obviously. But why?” I’ve never really been a tea girl. It reminds me too much of being sick to ever really enjoy it. And this tea isn’t like the ones we usually have, so I guess I’m just confused. 

“You haven’t been feeling well,” he says with a shrug. 

“That’s not true,” I say. “I feel fine!” And it’s true. I haven’t had any fevers or coughs, so for him to make the assumption that I’m sick is kind of ridiculous. 

“Maybe physically. How’s your head?” 

I pause for a moment, letting his words sink in. He meant mentally. I hate that he can tell when I don’t feel well. I watch as he sips his tea and makes a slight face. 

“What type of tea is this?” I ask. 

“It’s St. John’s Wort,” he answers. “It’s good for depression.” 

“Depression?” I ask incredulously.

“Yeah,” he says, giving me a challenging look. “I have to take it from time to time. It takes a while, but it does eventually work. 

Depression? I’m not depressed. I may not feel all great and bubbly, but I’m certainly not on the verge of killing myself. Daddy and I have treated people for depression before and there is no way that that’s what I’m going through. 

“We’ll talk about it later,” he says as if he could read my mind. “Just be sure to drink all of it before you go to school.” 

I take a cautious sip and find that the drink is quite bitter. No way am I drinking this for a condition I don’t even have. I greet Daddy’s face with a pleading look. In turn he gives me a look he rarely ever gives me. A look that says I better drink the damn tea. I decide to just chug it, the heat burning my throat on its way down. After a while, the bitterness resolves and I find a slightly sweet almost lemony aftertaste is left behind. It’s not too bad but I’d certainly not reach for it if given the choice. 

Lily and I walk to school with our usual gang. The school day is quite boring. We finished our exams yesterday, and today is solely dedicated for people to present their projects. Otho and Burdock are the first to present this morning, and overall they do a pretty good job. Poor Merrilee, who is in their group, struggles to get through her portion due to her headaches. She told me that they’re getting worse, and that she’s started to lose her vision when they come on that strongly. It worried me a bit, but Daddy says that’s a common side effect of migraines. He calls it an aura. 

When the bell rings for lunch, Otho finds his way to me and we make our way to the cafeteria. Maysilee lingers behind to stay with Mer, who is currently struggling with her blurred vision. I offered to bring her some meds that may help, but she said Mrs. Donner said no. 

I sit across from Otho at our usual table and listen to him talk about yeast and different rise times of dough. I feel a little better than I did this morning, but still nowhere good enough to actually pay attention to what he’s saying. But all of a sudden, he stops talking and looks at something happening over my shoulder. I turn around and watch Maysilee in a fight with Ottessa Greene, who looks so smug as Jade Penn and her little crew laugh maliciously. I can’t help but notice Burdock behind them, who smirks slightly in amusement as he looks from girl to girl. Ugh! I hate it when she does this. 

May and Mer make their way angrily to our table, the entire cafeteria seemingly honed in on us. “Well I know we’re pretty, but you don’t have to stare!” yells out Maysilee to no one in particular. Mer is clutching her head as soft tears come out of her eyes

“Mer, are you ok?” I ask. 

“No she’s not ok!” answers May for her. “That bitch just called her mentally slow! Her head is killing her! And Mom won’t fucking let her have the medicine that could help her!”

Otho stares at May in awe. We’ve all always been friends, but he’s always had his main group of guys, and I my main group of girls. Ever since we started dating, he’s been hanging out with the twins more often, and I think he still hasn’t gotten used to just how colorful Maysilee’s vernacular can be. 

“You know I hate it when you do that,” I say softly. May and I have gone through long periods of not talking because of the way she speaks to people sometimes. Yes sometimes it’s warranted, but sometimes it’s just cruel. 

“She deserved it! She basically called my sister a ret-”

“Enough!” I yell out. “Yeah she’s not the best, but she’s still a girl. It doesn’t make you better than her just because you wait to be provoked. At some point you’re going to have to learn to be the bigger person, Maysilee!” 

“I’m sorry,” she whispers finally. “But Asterid if you were there, you would have said something too.” 

I spend the rest of the lunch period staring at the wall, barely touching my lunch. When the school day is finally over, I am itching to get home. Otho and I have to work at the bakery and apothecary, but after we close up shop, Lily and I will head over to help him complete his tradition. 

Daddy is at the front counter of the apothecary when we first arrive home. He looks up from the ledger he’s working on to greet us. Lily seems almost back to her old self, as she tells him all about her last day of school. He lets her get all her feelings out before sending her away to the kitchen, and finally it is just the two of us. 

“Darling we need to talk,” he starts. 

“About the tea?”

“About all of it.”

I wait for him to continue, but he has this faraway look in his eyes. “When I was a kid,” he starts, “I felt like I was waiting for something. I’m not quite sure what, but I always felt like there had to be something more than this .” 

“I was a very sensitive kid,” he continues. “Your Uncle Jayden would always make fun of me, you know, as an older brother does. But I never knew how to take it lightly. Even Allison could handle the banter better than I could. Your Grandma said it made me special, but it always made me feel weak.

“I was a couple years older than you when my best friend was chosen in the Reaping, and I swear Asterid my heart actually broke. When he died, I couldn’t get out of bed for weeks . Luckily I had two siblings who could pick up the slack, but my Ma knew what was going on. She said only the best of healers can feel this pain, because they understand disabilities that can’t be seen. 

“My Ma suffered from depression. Her Pa suffered from it too, and it was her understanding that his Pa suffered from it as well. When Tristan died, I felt a part of me die. The depression was already there. I remember having small episodes ever since I was a little kid, but when he died, it hit me with a force I couldn’t handle. And that's when my Ma had this talk with me. 

“I’ve noticed it in you too over the years. It started when you were small, but I always thought that you’d get past it. Recently though, you’ve started to alarm me with how often you get that look in your eye. Maybe it was silly of me to think you’d never have this problem. You’ve certainly seen enough horrors in your time to think life isn’t worth living, but it is! The depressive episodes will come and go, but it’ll get easier to manage once you know what to look for.”

“But I’m not depressed!” I exclaim. “I’ve seen those people Daddy! I’ve seen the despair and the dirty homes and the matted hair and the suicide attempts, I’ve seen them! You can’t tell me that I have what they have!” 

“No you don’t have what they have!” he shoots back. “What you have is privilege! Those people didn’t know what they were dealing with until it was too late! And even if they did know, they didn’t know how to treat it! Baby, I just want you to treat it before it is too late!” 

“You think I would try something like that?” 

“I think anyone would if enough things go wrong.” 

We stand across from each other as tears silently fall from both our eyes. I’m transported to a moment from a couple months ago where he confronted me about this very thing, and suddenly I feel so fucking broken. 

“I thought you said you couldn’t fix this,” I say bitterly. 

“I can’t,” he says sadly. “Only you can. Only you can want to get better.” 

***

I stand across the counter from Otho as he teaches me and Lily how to properly frost cookies. When he hands me the piping bag, we both laugh at how terrible my icing skills are. It’s a good thing these aren’t for sale. They surely wouldn’t sell. 

“What’s going on with you?” he asks as we watch Lily and Dorian deep in concentration as they ice their cookies. Lily, it turns out, is a natural at this. 

“What do you mean?” 

“You just look kind of… sad,” he says.

“Yeah well… tomorrow is just a rough day,” I lie. I love Otho, but I’m not quite ready to share with him just how broken I am. 

“Hey,” he says, nudging my shoulder lightly with his own, “We’re going to be ok! We have to believe that!” 

July 4th

The first thing I hear when I wake this morning are Lily’s sobs. I wish I could calm her down the way I do after a nightmare, but I can’t really do or say anything comforting right now. Her fears are not unfounded, and regardless of who is chosen today, she will still be forced to watch 23 children die. 

“Lil, come here,” I whisper, pulling her closer to me. “I’m scared too. But we have to believe that everything’s going to be ok because if we don’t we’ll drive ourselves crazy.” 

She nods and sniffles a bit but holds onto my torso with a mama bear grip. “Hey let’s spend the morning as if it weren’t Reaping Day. Let’s pretend it’s just a regular Saturday. What would we do?”

She ponders this for a moment, “We’d sleep in?”

“Exactly! Let’s try to sleep for at least another hour, and then we can continue.” 

We don’t sleep though. The both of us lie awake, holding each other in our arms. At some point we make up a game about naming every instance we could think of where Maysilee said something mean. After about an hour of lounging about we decide to get up. 

“Let’s go downstairs and eat breakfast in our pajamas!” I exclaim, trying to make this fun for her. Mama never lets us eat like that unless we’re very sick, but there’s very little she can deny us today. I tell Lily she should take advantage of that. The adults will do whatever she wants today. 

We walk downstairs where mama has made a feast: chocolate chip pancakes, bacon, eggs, toast, she even made some whipped cream! Daddy greets us with a massive hug and then slyly slips a mug of tea into my arms. He gives me a look as I gingerly take my first sip. It isn’t as bad as it was yesterday, I figure with some time, I can get used to the bitterness. I’m not exactly happy to be drinking it, but if it gives Daddy peace of mind, then I guess it’s worth it. Although I’m not entirely convinced that this is depression. 

I spend as much time as I possibly can procrastinating, but eventually it is time to get ready. I take a long hot bath, trying to delay even further the necessary steps of the day. When I get out Mama has laid out a soft blue dress that was hers when she was my age. It’s beautiful. 

“Are you sure?” I turn to her.

“Of course, darling. It’s not like it fits me anymore,” she says. 

She helps me put it on. It’s even more beautiful on my body than laid out on the bed. It’s made of a soft linen material. The skirt is flowy in a way that makes it breathable and perfect for summer. Mama cinches it at the waist and ties the matching colored ribbon into a bow in the back. She proceeds to braid the top half of my still damp hair into a fishtail braid and leaves the bottom half down. 

At 1:30, I begin the grueling task of walking down to the square for check in. Lily damn near begs me to run away with her, but we both know it’s no use. I’d be shot dead before we even made it past the fence. Otho meets me outside the apothecary with Dorian by his side. Lily will walk over later with Mama and Daddy, but first we have to check in and reach our rightful spots. 

Otho gives me a deep lingering kiss before parting ways and making his way to the boy's side. I watch as he says something to Dori, and Dori lifts his chin up high and makes his way to the front where the rest of the 12 year olds stand. 

By the time I’m all checked in and I find the twins on the girl’s side, the Reaping has begun. Gem of Panem plays loudly from the speakers as Mayor Allister begins speaking. She reads the Treaty of Treason, before Drusilla Sickle takes the stage. She’s dressed in an ugly hot pink dress that’s shaped into an unflattering ball. She looks like a weird flower you wouldn’t dare touch in the wild. Her arms are covered in deep green lace gloves that look like leaves as the stick out of the dress. Her face is pulled back by many different pins, each decorated to look like saw blades. 

“Hello everyone!” she starts. “Welcome to the 49th annual Hunger Games! Ladies first!” 

She dips her hand in a glass ball slowly as she swirls her hand around a few times. Please don’t be me, please don’t be me, please don’t be me. “And the lucky girl is…” she says with a pause “... Clarisse Owens.” 

I let out a sigh of relief, Maysilee and Merrilee simultaneously doing the same. Clarisse Owens makes her way slowly to the stage, clearly in shock. Her face screams of confusion as she joins Drusilla. I don’t really know Clarisse that well. She's a couple years older than me, and she’s from the Seam. But I never got the pleasure of getting to know her beyond that. 

“And now for the boys!” exclaims Drusilla. 

Again, she reaches her hand into the glass ball at a ridiculously slow pace, as if she enjoys fucking with us. She finally picks one slip and makes her way back to the microphone. She begins unraveling the slip to reveal the name…

Please don’t be someone I love …

“... Dean Saxe!” 

Chapter Text

No. 

No. This isn’t happening. 

Beside me, I hear Maysilee gasp as she covers her mouth with one hand and clutches to me with all her might using her free one. I don’t have to look at her face to know she wears the same horrified expression that I do. We cling to each other, nearly ignoring Mer because ultimately only we have this history with Dean. Seam kids get reaped nearly every year, and yet we’ve never had such a close association with one before. Just a month ago Dean saved me from the Peacekeepers, and now I will never be able to repay him for his sacrifice.

I begin to scan the crowd for Dean, who stands near the back of the crowd with the older kids. Everyone around him has taken several steps away from him as if being reaped was contagious. As if just by mere association, they too would be sent to the Games. He begins to walk to the stage, his face hard and stoic, just the way Maysilee taught him all those years ago. His face cracks slightly when Joey cries loudly from the back of the crowd. Old man Thomas, struggling to hold on to his youngest as Justin steps in to carry the hysterical boy. 

Dean, however, manages to hold on to his composure as he joins Clarisse and Drusilla on stage, his jaw set in stone. “Ladies and gentlemen, join me in welcoming the District Twelve tributes for the 49th annual Hunger Games!” exclaims Drusilla in a voice that carries venom. “And may the odds be EVER in your favor!”

The speakers play an audio of people cheering even though the only people clapping are the ones despicable enough to place bets. Before long, the Peacekeepers on stage are dragging Clarisse and Dean into the Justice Building where they will say their final goodbyes to their loved ones. May and I are still clutching onto each other when Otho approaches us. He pulls me away from her and gives me a crushing hug that reveals just how scared he was for today. I don’t have time to wallow in it though, I need to get to Dean. 

“I’m going to give the tributes what we worked on last night. I’ll meet you at home?” he whispers into my ear. 

“Actually,” I start, my voice barely audible, “can I give Dean his cookies?” 

He pulls back to look at my face and nods his head. His eyes are full of sadness, not because he knows Dean very well, but because he knows this won’t be easy for me. Because he knows this is goodbye. I grab May’s hand and the three of us make our way to the Justice Building. 

“Who are you here for?” asks a Peacekeeper at the door. His voice sounds bored, like he truly couldn’t care less that two innocent children are being sent to their deaths.

May and I look at each other, and she looks just about ready to start yelling at this man, but Otho steps in and says, “They’re here to see Dean Saxe, I’m here to see Clarrise Owens.” 

“And what’s your relation to the tributes?” 

“We’re friends.” 

The Peacekeeper gives us a strange look, as if he can’t believe Town kids would be friends with Seam kids, but he lets us through anyway. He gives Otho directions on how to get to Clarrise Owens’s room and proceeds to lead me and May down the opposite direction, but not before Otho hands me one of the bags of cookies we made last night. At least there’s a small comfort in knowing that I get to give Dean one last piece of home. 

The Justice Building is bigger than it looks. Sure it looks pretty big on the outside, but the inside is a weird maze and the longer we walk down the hall, the longer the passage looks. Like time stands still in this eerie building. 

The Saxe family are all sitting in chairs by the wall next to a door marked Do Not Enter. Briar is surrounded by Burdock, Haymitch, and Blair, but he doesn’t seem to be crying. Instead, he looks detached. Like this isn’t actually happening. Joey, on the other hand, is still screaming his head off, trying to be contained by Thomas — who like Briar, seems to be hardcore dissociating — and Justin, who cries just as hard. 

Suddenly I feel out of place here, like I’m intruding on a private moment. I’m not sure if Maysilee feels the same way because she also looks away and I begin to turn thinking this was a mistake. I mean what was I thinking? Sure Dean and I have history, but not nearly to the extent of his history with the people in this room. I should go. I should just give Briar the cookies and go, but I-

“Asterid!” exclaims Joey as he runs full force into me, nearly knocking me to the ground. He clings onto my torso, crying into the fabric of my dress. And it is so similar to what Lily would do, that I damn near start sobbing with him. Instead, I kneel on the ground so our faces are closer and pull him into a full mama bear hug as he cries and cries and cries. I begin to play with his hair the way I do with Lily when she’s had a nightmare. 

“Asterid,” mutters Thomas as he limps his way towards me. I think he’s about to ask me to leave because well, that would be the appropriate thing to do, but he doesn’t. Instead he says, “I’m so glad you could come!” 

A Peacekeeper emerges from one of the nearby rooms, “Ok. He’s permitted four three minute visits, so I need you all to order yourselves into groups. Which group is going first?”

“I want to go last,” says Briar so softly, I almost don’t hear him.

“Thomas,” starts Burdock. “You should go in with Justin and Joey.” And then he turns to Briar trying to comfort his friend. But his friend has that closed off look in his face. He isn’t crying or screaming. Truth be told, he isn’t here right now. He’s probably off to a far away place in his mind. I know because I do the same when reality is far too difficult to bear. 

Thomas, Justin, and Joey disappear behind this massive door, and the room is swallowed by silence. No one says a thing. Briar sits while staring at the wall, Burdock and Haymitch rub Briar’s back softly and seem to be holding a conversation with their eyes. Blair paces the hallways while nervously biting his nails, and Maysilee and I sit several chairs away from them. 

When Thomas, Joe, and Justin emerge from the room, there is not a single dry eye amongst them. Thomas’s resolve has been broken. He stutters as he tries to get a hold of Joey’s emotions, but the little boy won’t let up. He runs to me, and once again buries his face in my neck. I hold him tight and whisper soft things to him while running my nails through his hair. 

“We should go next,” says Burdock, quietly tugging Haymitch and Blair’s arms. “Are you going to be ok?” he asks Briar. Briar gives an imperceptible nod and stays seated while the three boys disappear into the room once more. 

It feels weird to be here. I never really thought I would be. The Justice Building is bland, with sad beige walls and pictures of what I’m assuming are important people and events throughout history. Right now, the only sounds that echo off the walls are of those in the room that are crying. Joey’s sobs. Justin’s now contained sniffles. Thomas’s full body wails. Maysilee looks around with a disgusted look on her face. I can only do the one thing: hold Joey tightly and pray for everyone involved that Dean’s death is quick and painless. Of course that’s wishful thinking but still. 

“This is disgusting,” starts Maysilee. I shoot her a look of warning, but that doesn’t stop her. “If this is a tribute’s last glimpse of home they could at least make it more appealing to look at.” 

“Maysilee!” I admonish her. “Now is not the time or place!”

“I think it is,” she challenges. “I think more people should say these things. Dean doesn’t deserve this!”

“Nobody deserves this!” I yell out in frustration. Thomas and Justin shoot me a panicked look as I clasp my hand to my mouth. I shouldn’t have said it. Not here. Not where so many Peacekeepers stay watching. But nobody does anything. Nobody comes to take me away, or slap me to the floor. It’s a good thing too, because this time there is no Dean to protect me from the imminent dangers of being locked up. 

The door swings open again and the three boys walk out with a solemn look on their face. Burdock has silent tears running down his face while Haymitch looks as if he’s doing his best not to cry. Blair just looks down at the floor. 

“Briar, do you still want to go last?” I ask. He answers with a small nod. “Joey, I’m gonna go see your brother really quickly ok? I promise I’ll be back soon!” 

“You promise?” he asks desperately in a voice so soft and sweet, I’ll be thinking about it until the day I die. 

“I promise! Here,” I say, taking a cookie out of the bag and handing it to him. “Split it with Briar ok? I’ll be right back.” 

Maysilee and I get up, but Haymitch scoffs and begins to make his way toward us shaking his head. Burdock steps in and says something I can’t quite hear seconds before the door closes behind me. 

“Asterid! May!” exclaims Dean as he runs toward us. “The old gang’s back together!” 

The three of us laugh as we take in how unfortunate this situation is. I hand him the cookies, unsure of what to say. I mean, what do you say in this situation? Dean—ever the gentleman—forces the three of us to split a cookie, and Maysilee says it best, “You know Dean, if you wanted the three of us to hang out again, there were better ways to get us to agree!” 

He chuckles softly and takes a step back to see us. There’s a comfortable silence that washes over the three of us, as if everything we could possibly say is right there in the silence, but May breaks the silence first.

“Remember what I taught you Dean,” she says with determination in her voice. 

“That ‘you look like a frog’ is not as good an insult as I thought it was?” he jokes. 

“That no one is allowed to make you feel inferior without your permission. Not even the Capitol. I read that in a book once, and it has become my life’s mantra.” 

The group falls silent again, taking in Maysilee’s profound declaration. I came here to say goodbye, but Maysilee came here to make sure he dies on his own terms. As himself. And before I can stop myself, I begin to give him advice on how to stay alive. 

“Listen, are you listening to me?” I say with a sudden sense of urgency. He nods, clearly taken aback. “There’s a higher probability that you die from infection than that you die at the hands of another tribute. If something happens, you get a wound or whatever, the first step is to keep the wound clean. In the arena that will be difficult, but as long as you find water, you’re golden.”

I begin to take the ribbon that cinches my waist off my dress and quickly show him how to make a tourniquet, “If you are penetrated by an object, don’t remove it! Keep it there and make a tourniquet. This could save your life.”

“Asterid,” he says softly and tilts his head with pity. 

“No. If you get sick, you ca-”

“Asterid!” 

“No!” I exclaim. “I am not entertaining the idea that you’re going to die Dean!” And then I begin to cry. But I can’t remember the last time I cried, and it comes crashing down on me like a storm. Dean sits with me on the floor holding me and telling me it’ll be ok. How pathetic! I’m the one who should be comforting him, not the other way around. 

“Asterid, it’s fine, really,” he says. “My name was in 30 times today. I figured if it wasn’t this year, it would have been the next. Really, I’m not shocked.”

“No. No it’s not fine!” I yell. “I owe you so much! I owe you my life! You aren’t even fully healed yet Dean, and they’re going to send you into a battlefield! And I’ll never ever be able to make it up to you!” 

“Make it up to me?” he says incredulously. “Asterid! I didn’t do that because I’m such a nice guy! If you had been anyone else, I would have let those stupid Peacekeepers drag you away and do whatever they wanted. But you weren’t just anyone . You are also the girl who stole healing balm from her parents to make a poor boy heal comfortably. You’re the girl who routinely helps people in the Seam at a low cost. You’re the only one who can make Maysilee be nice. You’re the girl who saved Joey from his fever this winter!”

He pauses, looking over my face with a profound sense of sadness, “You were always so nice to me, even before the Caesar thing happened. And for that, I can never make it up to you!” 

He motions for May to join us on the floor, and the three of us fall into a huddle on the ground as we silently weep. 

“Time’s up!” yells a Peacekeeper at the door. 

“Take care of Joey for me ok?” says Dean, softly squeezing my hand. “He likes you.” 

I nod and the Peacekeeper pushes me and Maysilee forward and out of the room. 

“Hey! Keep your hands to yourself!” yells Maysilee to the Peacekeeper. But the Peacekeeper doesn’t care, and with a final shove forward, we are expelled into the waiting room with the rest of the Saxes and their friends. 

Briar begins to stand slowly as if unsure of his own movements. He walks to the door at the same speed, disappearing behind the closed door. Thomas lies in a weeping mess on the floor as Justin silently cries beside him. Joey’s sobs have dissolved into sniffles as he sits in Burdock’s lap, Burdock whispering something in his ear. I should probably go now. I said my goodbye. I am no longer welcome. But I find that I don’t want to go. I don’t want to leave to my Town home and forget the kind people who wait here. The people who are going through something unimaginable. 

“Asterid?” whispers Joey as he turns his head to look at me. 

“I’m right here, sweet boy,” I reply, kneeling in front of Burdock. 

“Can you play with my hair like before?” 

I nod with a smile plastered to my face, but I can feel myself losing control again. I sit in the seat beside Burdock and play with the boy’s hair as Burdock continues to whisper a story about his time in the woods. After a while, I find that the story has also successfully soothed me because to be frank, there’s something very melodic about Burdock’s voice. 

Briar emerges from the room a couple minutes later with storms in his eyes. He sits in the chair beside me and puts his head in his hands, his chin wobbling slightly as he tries to hold on to his composure. But I know that the longer he stays in that faraway place in his mind, the harder it will be to come out of, so I place a hand on his shoulder, urging him to look at me. 

“Brair?” I say in as soothing a voice as I possibly can. And just like that, I see that stone wall shatter before me. He begins to wail in a way I didn’t know was humanly possible, as if he’s spent years being tortured and only just now discovered he could scream. 

Before I know it, I bring the boy to me, holding him tightly as his sobs overcome him. There is nothing I can say right now but simply let him cry. And so, in the shackles of these sad beige walls, we cry and we cry and we cry. And there is nothing anyone can say or do to make the tragedy of losing Dean Saxe any less painful. 

I don’t know how long we sit there collectively crying before a set of Peacekeepers barges in. One of them—a tall, beefy man with green eyes and auburn hair— yells for us to get out. But a female Peacekeeper stops him, urging him to be more gentle. She won’t be here long, that much is apparent. The women rarely do. Commander Ross will see her kindness as a weakness and she’ll either be sent to a different District or to wherever it is she came from. 

“If you leave now you can still see him board the train,” she whispers in Thomas’s ear when the green eyed man isn’t looking. 

Thomas—with a renewed sense of determination—gets up from his seat, Justin following closely. But Briar refuses to leave, his head now buried in my neck. From the way he clings onto me you’d find it hard to believe he’s a 15 year old boy, but fear does strange things to people and fear is the only thing he feels. 

“I can’t,” he whispers to his dad. “I can’t say goodbye again. It’ll kill me.” 

Thomas looks at him with disappointment — a look I’m sure Briar will examine closely in the days to come — but he has no time to lose. He won’t risk not seeing one son one last time for the benefit of another; Dean needs him far more right now. And with that, he leaves with a sprint to the train station. Justin, Haymitch, and Blair running close behind. 

Burdock and I sit in silence holding the last remaining Saxe brothers for a moment longer before getting up and making our way out of the Justice Building. Burdock carries Joey who is no longer crying. I obviously can’t carry Briar, but I think I would if I could because after a few steps it is apparent that the boy’s crying is making him very unstable. So I do the next best thing and hold his hand as we make our way to the Seam. 

By the time we’ve arrived at the Saxe’s, Briar has ceased his crying, and that faraway look has returned. He makes his way over to the couch with Joey, and the smaller boy lays his head on his lap. The house once filled with people is now empty and sad. The only sound that fills it are the occasional sniffles of the two people closest to the boy on the train. Burdock and I stand in the kitchen, closely watching the two as Joey’s eyes begin to close and he slowly falls into sleep. I feel so useless right now, but there really is not much that can be done. 

“I think I’m gonna leave,” I whisper to Burdock. 

He gives me a small nod. I don’t bother to say anything to Briar, I know he won’t hear me. At least not in his current state. I begin to turn, making my way out of the house, but Burdock grabs my hand gently, “Thank you,” he says. 

“For what?”

“For coming. I know it meant a lot to Dean,” he says with his brows furrowed. “Briar and Joey too.” 

I give him a sad look, “I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.” 

He gives my hand a small squeeze before letting go, and for a small moment, that gesture fills me up with warmth. But then I’m brought back to reality, and reality is far worse. In reality, this boy wants absolutely nothing to do with me, and the only reason he’s doing this is because our friend is being sent to his death. 

But still, that warmth is something I’ll hold onto because it is a part of Burdock Everdeen. And I’ll hold onto every piece of Burdock he can grant. 

***

When I arrive home, most of my family is waiting in the kitchen. Daddy has begun preparing our feast which entails roasting a chicken, and making rice and a salad. The Mellarks will be coming over later and celebrating our safety, so I think he just wants to be sure everything goes smoothly. I would’ve thought Mama would be the one freaking out, but she is nowhere to be found. Lily sits patiently on the counter beside him. When she finally sees me coming, she runs to me at a speed I’d never seen before.

“Asterid!” she yells with glee, and I pick the girl up and spin her in the air. I have never been more happy to see her in my life. I would hate to imagine her ever being in the position Joey’s been put in, so while I am deeply sorry for Clarisse Owens, I am also incredibly grateful that it wasn’t me who was reaped. I sit Lily down on her previous spot as she begins babbling happily, and I give Daddy a hug, both of us relaxing slightly. But there’s still something troubling him, I can tell by the way he looks at me. 

I can hear Mama’s footsteps descending down the stairs, and I run to the sound quickly to greet her because I have never been more happy to see my family. But she doesn’t greet my presence with a hug. Instead, she greets me with a slap to the face, and the room falls silent. 

“Where were you?” she asks quietly, somehow making her scarier than if she had yelled. 

“I-I was at the J-justice B-b-building,” I stammer. “I was just saying goodbye to Dean!”

She looks at me with disgust, as if I just revealed I’ve done some insidious act. With the way she’s reacting, you would think I’ve just committed murder.

“Were you sleeping with that boy?” she asks with venom on her tongue. 

“What? No! Of course no-”

“Because look at where he is now! He’s dying Asterid!” 

“Mama I-”

“They’re all going to die sooner rather than later! You need to stop fraternizing with those people! They are not like us!”

“Phoebe!” yells Daddy, who protectively pulls me behind him. Lily watches from afar with a horrified expression I’m sure matches my own.

“No, Theo! She needs to hear this!” Mama yells. “Those people will only ever bring heartbreak! They’ll use you and leave you one way or another. Either they’ll choose to walk away, or they’ll be reaped, or if by some miracle they make it out of the Reaping, they’ll still die young in the mines! None of them are safe!”

“Phoebe that’s enough!” he yells, but Mama doesn’t care. She steps around me to reach me again, but before she can say anything, there’s a knock at the door. The Mellarks are here and this conversation will have to wait until tomorrow. 

“Go upstairs and change,” she says quietly. “You forgot to bring back the ribbon when you let that Seam rat fuck you.” 

Chapter Text

My face still stings with the slap Mama gave me earlier. Dinner with the Mellarks went alright, if not just silent. I think they could all pick up on the tension in the room, although none of them commented on it. Otho kept trying to talk to me, but I couldn’t focus on him. I was too busy noticing the way Mama and Daddy were shooting daggers at each other’s face. 

It is 3:00 am and I can’t sleep. I keep thinking today was a nightmare. That I’ll wake up tomorrow only to discover that none of it was real. That Dean wasn’t reaped, that Briar wasn’t broken, that Mama doesn’t think I’m a complete whore. She didn’t use those words, but I wouldn’t put it past her to think them. 

I move Lily’s arms from around me and sneak my way downstairs. I hate the depression tea Daddy makes me drink each morning, but I don’t feel good. I feel so damn empty and sad and dark. Like all the light has been sucked out of my life. And I keep thinking that maybe, just maybe he was right. Maybe I do have a problem.

I want to go back to when things were good, but I can’t even identify when that was. Was it before the Reaping? No. Not really. Was it before the mining accident? No. Daddy was depressed out of his mind. Was it before Lily lived with us? I can’t tell. It’s been so long since I can recall an ounce of stability in this house. So why does it feel like something changed tonight that can’t ever be fixed?

“What are you doing?” asks Daddy from behind me. 

“I’m making tea,” I respond plainly. “What are you doing?” 

He leaves the kitchen and enters the apothecary. When he returns, he places a refilled jar of St. John’s Wort herbs in front of me. “Make me some too.”

“Why aren’t you upstairs, Daddy?” I ask as I fill the teapot with hot water, allowing for the dried herbs to expand and steep. 

“I didn’t feel like sleeping in the same room as your Mom tonight,” he says gruffly. 

I place a cup of tea in front of him and take my seat across from him on the dining room table. “I didn’t sleep with him Daddy,” I finally say. 

“I know, darling. Your mother is just… afraid.”

“Of what?”

“I’m not sure it’s my place to say,” he mutters. 

“Well is she going to tell me?” I ask, annoyed that he'd bring it up if I wasn’t allowed to know. 

“Probably not.”

There’s a pause in conversation as we both replay the events of the day. The Reaping, the Justice Building, the crying, the goodbye, the slap, the accusation, the dinner. And it is all so much that I finally just start crying. 

“I didn’t deserve that,” I sob. 

“No,” he says. “You didn’t.”

In the days that pass, there is an undeniable air of tension at home. Otho has picked up on it, and he keeps trying to get me to talk to him but I'm too embarrassed to say. How do I tell my boyfriend that my mom is mad at me because she thinks I'm sleeping with a guy who's just been sent to his death? What if he believes her? What if he calls me something worse?

Tonight, they will air the Chariot rides, and the entire District is buzzing with dread. District 12 is never taken seriously, especially not when we have stylists like Magno Stift. None of us know how he'll dress Dean and Clarisse, but we know it's not likely to be good.

Otho, the Donners, and I gather at the square where they show the event on a large projector. We watch the District 1 tributes as they are covered in a white and gold sheet, waving surreptitiously at the Capitolites. District 2 is wearing gunmetal bodysuits that reflect in the light. District 3 wears a silver cape with a black suit. The District 4 tributes are nearly naked, wearing only green scraps of fabric that cover their genitalia. The District 5 tributes wear red, although it is unclear why. District 5 deals with power production, none of which is symbolized by the color red. District 6 wears garments made from what appear to be tires. District 7 is styled in leaves and bark, but again, they do that almost every year. The District 8 tributes are probably styled the most ridiculous. They wear colorful garments made of fabrics that clash with one another. They are adorned from head to toe in feathers and glitter and sequins, and it is all rather unpleasing to the eye.

"Fuck, that's an eyesore," I hear someone mutter from behind me. I turn around to see Burdock and his friends standing behind me. I shoot him a smile, trying to suppress a laugh. He's right. If I were them, I'd be upset that this is how Panem is forced to remember me.

District 9 is dressed in taupe with grain sticking up and out of their collars. It looks kind of itchy. District 10 is dressed in cow print. For how ridiculous the print is, they look the best all things considered. District 11 is dressed in plain cotton with various fruits arranged into a headpiece.

The square goes quiet as we wait for District 12 to pass by. I keep hoping that they'll be dressed in something that won't embarrass them, but District 12 has never been that lucky. As the District 12 chariot passes by, we see Clarisse Owens and Dean Saxe pass by with not a single bit of clothing. Instead, they wear soot, meant to "cover" their parts, but everyone can see everything.

Nobody says a thing. Nobody cheers. Nobody groans. It's almost as if we expected this. Because… well… we did. I turn to look at Burdock and Briar, who both wear a face of complete anger. I want to comfort them, but honestly I'm pissed too. Haymitch and Blair stand beside them too, but they look more disgusted than angry.

"This is such bullshit," I hear Otho mutter. And it is. It is bullshit. But no one can do anything about it because the Capitol doesn't see us as human. So why would they care if a 17 year old boy and a 16 year old girl are paraded in front of the world wearing nothing but dirt? Is it meant to be sexy? Or is it simply another ploy to dehumanize us further?

The rest of the week is exhausting. Mama has been on me everyday to man the apothecary. Whenever I try to sneak out to visit the Saxes, she doubles down on her anger. Daddy isn't doing much to help, and Lily is confused by all the animosity.

Today is probably the worse it's been. From the moment I woke up, she's been accusing me of leaving to the Seam, even though I literally haven't spoken to any of the Saxes since the Reaping.

In all my years on this earth, I have never hated my mom. She has always always always been my rock. She has always put me first above everything. Above Daddy, above Lily, above Daddy's obvious bias towards Lily. She has always made me feel like the most important thing in the world. But over the last week, she's been making me feel like dirt. And I can't help but feel some type of way about it.

Lily's confusion doesn't help the situation either. Because normally, I can explain to her why the dynamics at home are pretty weird. I can say Daddy doesn't feel well when he has a depressive episode, and it's enough for her to understand but not enough for me to betray Daddy's privacy. But this is different because even I am confused. And you can't really solve confusion with confusion.

"Where are you going?" asks Mama as I leave the apothecary.

"I'm going to the restroom," I reply shortly. "Or am I not allowed to do that either?"

"Don't be smart Asterid! It makes you look ugly."

That's another thing she's been doing a lot lately. Calling me ugly. It's been really confusing for me to understand the sudden switch up. Before the Reaping, she would routinely call me the most beautiful girl in Panem. And it's not that I'd believe her — I mean, not with the things the Capitolites do to themselves in the name of beauty — but it would still provide me with a sort of comfort. If she hadn't spent the majority of my life reassuring me of my beauty, her sudden usage of the word ugly might break me. I have been called beautiful by most people in my life over and over again, and yet I would do anything to hear those words from her again.

When evening rolls around, I decide to make my way over to the Donner household. They own a large TV and it happens to be one of the only places that Mama will let me go. This way Maysilee and I can lean on each other for support, and Mama can back off a little.

Today, they will be airing out the game scores and Caesar Flickerman will provide colorful commentary, trying to decipher what the tributes’ skills might be. We sit in their bedroom, Maysilee and I on the bed, and Merrilee in a chair by her vanity. They flash a picture of each tribute followed by their score: 

• District 1 Boy: 10

• District 1 Girl: 9

• District 2 Boy: 9

• District 2 Girl: 7

• District 3 Boy: 7

• District 3 Girl: 8

• District 4 Boy: 8

• District 4 Girl: 7

• District 5 Boy: 6

• District 5 Girl: 5

• District 6 Boy: 5

• District 6 Girl: 5

• District 7 Boy: 8

• District 7 Girl: 7

• District 8 Boy: 4

• District 8 Girl: 5

• District 9 Boy: 6

• District 9 Girl: 5

• District 10 Boy: 6

• District 10 Girl: 4 

• District 11 Boy: 9 

• District 11 Girl: 8

May and I hold each other as a picture of Dean pops on the screen. 

• District 12 Boy: 5

“Hey, that's not so bad!” I say. 

“It’s not so great either,” mutters May. 

• District 12 Girl: 4

I think I should really go visit the Saxes. I promised Dean I'd look after Joey, but I think Briar might need me more. Maybe I can bring them some of the tea Daddy makes and some sleep syrup. I sincerely doubt that any of them are getting any sleep at night, and I do not foresee that getting better any time soon. Still, Mama might actually kill me if I try to leave the vicinity.

I don't know who to talk to about this. Every time I try to talk to Daddy, he shuts the conversation down. Lily doesn't know what's happening. I can't tell Otho. Would the twins be any help? Or am I deluding myself with thinking anyone can understand?

"What's on your mind, love?" asks Mer from where she's sitting.

"If I tell you, it can not leave this room," I say in full earnest. "I mean it!"

"Yeah, of course," she says with a slight shake of her head.

"May?" I ask, turning to give Maysilee a strong look.

"Yeah, whatever."

There's a slight hum on the television as the program we were watching dies down. The last thing we see is Caesar Flickerman waving goodbye to the camera, and the anthem that plays gently as the screen fades to black.

"Mama's mad," I say.

"Why?" asks Mer.

"She's mad I went to say goodbye to Dean."

"Why?" asks May this time.

"She thinks…"

"What does she think, Asterid?"

"Umm… do you remember those rumors at school? The ones from a few weeks ago?"

"Yeah…"

"Well, she kind of… sort of… implied that…"

"She thinks they're true?" ask Mer incredulously, sitting up straight in her little white chair. I give a small nod as I try my best not to start crying again.

"But why?" ask May angrily, no longer laying down on the bed.

"I don't know! I've never given her a reason to believe that!"

"Is it because of the mine accident?" asks Merrilee.

"I don't know! I mean, that certainly didn't help matters, but I would have done that anyway! The only reason I had to treat Dean in the first place was because I helped someone else, and he had to protect me!"

"What the fuck! Shouldn't she be thanking him? Without him you could have died!" yells May.

"Yeah, well that's not exactly something we should lead with. She was pretty pissed at me then too."

The three of us grow silent. Mer watches me with sad eyes, as if trying to decipher the best possible thing she can say to make me feel better. May, on the other hand, looks angry and downright ready to march over to my house and start a fight with my mother.

"She's been really mean lately," I half whisper. I don't know if I want to tell them everything she's said, but I also know I can't just keep it in forever.

"What do you need?" asks May with determination.

"I want to go see the Saxe family," I start, "but I'm not sure when I'll be able to sneak away."

"I'll go see them!" she says with a start. She almost leaps out of bed and proceeds to put on her shoes.

"May, let's think about this logically," starts Merrilee. "There's no way you'll be able to go to the Seam! And Daddy would never let you."

"Well then it's a good thing I don't listen to Daddy!" she says shooting daggers at her sister. "What do you need me to tell them, Asterid?"

Maysilee and I have created a sort of communication system with the Saxe Family. She tells Mr. Donner that she's going out on deliveries and she simply gives the Saxes my messages. Sometimes I'll send her down there with a couple of medicines I think might help them, and she will send some treats from the sweetshop.

Although my messages are technically for the Saxe Family, I really have been mostly communicating with Burdock — through May of course. Thomas is busy trying to keep the family afloat. According to Burdock, Briar is still in a state of heavy dissociation, and Joey basically hasn't stopped crying since the moment Dean's name was called.

In our last letter, Burdock said he'd get the Saxes to watch the tribute interviews in the square tonight. This way I can check up on Joey and Briar, and maybe I can talk to them in person. Mama usually mans the apothecary during mandatory viewings since we have a small television in the room.

When I arrive at the square, it is covered all over with people from the Seam. There is nary a person missing from sight. Of course this is pretty typical. But I think it's different this year. This isn't just some random kid who was chosen. Dean was a pillar of the community. Thomas often carved pieces for people. Whether it was wooden spoons, or bowls, or weapons, everybody in the Seam and even some from Town, had a piece of the Saxe family. All being pieces that were delivered by Dean.

I make my way to the Saxes, taking my place besides Briar and Burdock. "Hey," I greet the boys. Burdock gives me a genuine smile while Briar continues staring at the floor.

"Asterid!" yells Joey as he runs full force into my arms. I lift the boy up and place him on my hip as the program begins. He's tiny and all, but even then I know I won't be able to hold him for longer than 10 minutes.

"Are you sure you can hold him?" asks Burdock with an eyebrow raised.

"Are you calling me weak, Burdock Everdeen?" I say with mock offense.

"I would never dream to do so!" he says playfully, but then he leans in closer and whispers in my ear, "But do let me know if you need a break. I'd be happy to help you!"

A shiver runs down my body that emanates from my spine. It starts at the base of my neck where his whisper began and pulls down my spine into my toes. I pull back and share a look with him that I'm sure I'll be examining closely in the days or months or even years to come. But for now, I am just so happy that I can have my friend back. Of course the happiness doesn't last long, because before I know it, the screen is invaded by a Caesar Flickerman with ugly yellow hair and a matching suit.

Slowly they bring out the tributes. Caesar introduces them, often making jests at their expense. The Career tributes poise themselves as ruthless killers, obviously trying their best to get sponsored. Besides the Careers, there are few clear stand outs. The girl from District 3 was meek and small, but she spoke with such intelligence that it would be stupid to count her out. The District 7 boy has a limp, and one side of his face is drooping significantly. He seems to have some serious difficulty speaking. The boy from District 11, although only 14, seems strong and angry. He's also pretty tall and his work in the fields has certainly helped build some muscle.

At some point, Haymitch and Blair have joined our group. Haymitch standing behind me and Burdock, Blair standing on the other side of Briar. And then we see them. The last tributes to be interviewed. Clarisse Owens and Dean Saxe.

The entire square goes quiet as we take in the kids from District 12. While every other tribute so far has been styled and dressed to the nines, our tributes wear their training outfits. A seemly silver bodysuit that only manages to accentuate their protruding ribs. Dean's under eyes are dark and hallow. Clarisse's hair is messy and oily, and at the nape of her neck, you can see it has begun to mat. What have they been doing to these kids?

Joey — now in Burdock's arms — locks his eyes on the screen, his little brows furrowing with anticipation. At the sight of Dean, Briar has managed to return to reality. His eyes burn into the screen as if willing his brother to come home.

Clarisse goes first, but she seems so overwhelmed by the cameras and the lights and the incessant personal questions that Caesar asks, that she doesn't make much of an impression. I know less about her now than I did before the Reaping. Still, no one in the square says a word. No one even moves. Because that's our girl. And even if we didn't know her much, her death will still hurt. It always hurts.

When Dean makes his way towards the stage, his face is relaxed and neutral. He wears a small fixed smile, but it isn't real. It isn't like the smile we have come to know. From up close, you can see the lack of sleep on his face. His eyes droop slightly, and the skin beneath his eyes is darker than his dark olive skin.

Caesar makes it a point to point out his training outfit. "My my my," he says. "What, did you have nothing else to wear tonight?"

"Oh, you know," starts Dean. "I'm just trying to showcase my dedication. Trying to put the hours in! I had to come straight from training!" His joke lands with most audience members. As the Capitolites laugh, I lock eyes with Maysilee from a couple feet away. I can't help but be proud of Dean in this moment for not letting Caesar's comment make him feel bad. Afterall it isn't his fault to be dressed like that.

"So what you're saying is, you won't go down without a fight?"

"Of course not, Caesar! I have a family I'd like to get back to."

"Hmm. Siblings?"

"Yes."

"How many?"

"I have two younger brothers."

"Ah, so you're the oldest?"

"That's right."

"And what did you say to them before you left?"

I can see Dean's previous neutrality break a bit. Even from hundreds of miles away I know, he doesn't want to let them in. He can't bear the thought of the Capitol having one of his last private moments with his family. But the world is watching, and he can't appear bothered now. He takes a deep breath, "I told them to stay alive."

I can tell this isn't the answer Caesar was hoping for. He probably wanted something more dramatic, more meaningful. Something to pull at people's heartstrings. It would certainly help him get sponsors if he was willing to play that card. But I know Dean. And he's simply following Maysilee's advice. He's staying true to himself. They can take him now, and throw him into an arena, and force him to die. But they can not take his memories of his family. They do not belong to the Capitol. They belong to him.

Caesar pivots, "What about a sweetheart? You got a girl waiting for you back home?"

"I've got a couple of girls I'm fond of," he begins. "Although none that I'm interested in like that."

"A couple of girls? Wow," he says laughing towards the audience. "I didn't realize we brought a player into the Games this year."

"Nah," starts Dean. "These girls are special. I see them as more of my sisters. They've saved my life on more than one occasion."

I feel wetness on my cheeks, and I guess I've been crying although I don't fully register that until Joey wipes my face with his shirt. "You are like a sister, Asterid," he whispers lightly, and he turns his body toward me so that I am once again holding him for the rest of the interview. Burdock gives me a sad smile and a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder, and we turn once more to the television.

"And what did they say to you?"

Dean's expression grows dark as he remembers our final words. "They reminded me that I'm human, and that no one can change that. No one will manage to make me feel less than."

The square stirs with anxiety. What is he doing? The words aren't inherently rebellious, but in the context from which they came, they can be deadly. He's mad. That much is apparent, but how much of it can the Capitol excuse as a young boy angry by his luck before they start to suspect him as a rebel?

"Hmm," starts Caesar. "And are they pretty?"

"Prettiest girls in the district I reckon."

"Well that's certainly interesting," he says, clearly uninterested. "I know you said they are like sisters to you, but maybe if you make it back, they can fight for your love."

Dean opens his mouth, probably to oppose of this suggestion, but the timer rings indicating that Dean's time is up, and just like that the program is over. There is no way anyone will sponsor him now. He looked a mess, he didn't give any real information about himself, and he's just said something rebellious.

"Well, I'm afraid our time is up," says Caesar. "Ladies and gentlemen, give it up for our District 12 tribute, Dean Saxe!"

The audience claps and roars and the screen fades to black as the anthem plays. When the program is over, the square comes back to life. Most people leave right away. No one would even watch this if it wasn't mandatory, and if your loved one isn't in the games, why would you want to linger? But the Saxes and their friends do. Briar has disappeared again, and Blair is by his side whispering something in his ear and rubbing his arms slightly.

"Do you have to go?" asks Burdock. I place Joey on the ground and gather my bearings.

"Yeah, probably," I start. "I should get back before Mama gets mad at me."

"Maysilee said you were… grounded?"

"Yeah," I scoff. "Something like that."

"What did you do?" he asks with a slight smirk, clearly amused.

"Oh you know. I slept with Dean."

His smile falters as quickly as it appeared. His face looks so contorted with shock and horror, that I can't help but break into laughter. "Ha," he chuckles nervously, "Are you joking?"

"Of course I'm joking!" I exclaim, playfully smacking his arm. "Who do you take me for?"

"I don't know! Dean's a… good… guy. If you had I wouldn't judge you!"

"Burdock! Please tell me you don't believe those rumors!"

"Of course not!" he exclaims. "Why does she?"

"I don't know. But I should probably go before she sees me with-"

"With the Seam rats?" he suggests.

"Burdock," I start.

"It's ok, Asterid! I don't want you to get in trouble." He pauses for a second, as if unsure if he should say what he's thinking, "Will I still hear from you? In those letters?"

"Of course," but it doesn't feel like enough. Letters to the Saxes? Letters to Burdock Everdeen? They aren't enough. "Listen, I'll find a way to get to the Seam for the start of the Games tomorrow."

"Asterid, no!"

"I have to! I promised Dean!"

And with that, I make my way back to my town home and hope that I can see my friends tomorrow. Goodness knows we're going to need each other's support.

Chapter Text

Sleep —as it has been for the last few weeks — has not come peacefully. I've come to cherish any nights where I can sleep for longer than three consecutive hours. Lily, still terrified of the Games, has clung onto me for dear life. And on nights like tonight where the sleep won't come and the thoughts grow darker by the second, it's a blessing. The only thing that keeps me going are the breaths she takes in her sleep. I count them passing by, one, two, three, and so on until eventually I can sleep again.

When I wake for the final time, it is 4:00 in the morning, and I know it is pointless to try to sleep again. Instead, I stay awake brainstorming ways to get to the Seam before the games begin. Last night, Mama told me I had to run the apothecary today, but if I am in charge of the shop, that means I won't be able to be there for the Saxes. But what do I do? I can't just not be there for Dean, for Briar, for Joey. If it goes the way it usually does, Dean will be dead by noon today. Most District 12 tributes don't make it out of the bloodbath.

I feel this impending sense of doom invade my chest. I wish I felt anxiety or fear, but it isn't like that. It's weirdly calm. Just heavy. Nothing really seems worth it. Why are we working so hard if this is the outcome? It feels a bit like grief. I've had my fair share of experiences with the feeling.

I remember my grandmother before she died, and the way Daddy fell apart when she was gone. I remember Auntie Allie and her warmth, and the sudden absence I felt when she was killed. I remember her husband, and the heaviness that followed when he starved to death. I remember the pain it caused us when Moira died at the hands of her father's neglect, and the way Lily slept with me that entire year.

I didn't know it was possible to grieve someone before they've passed, but as I lay here staring at the little blonde figure in my arms, I'm positive that that's what I'm feeling. Maybe it's unfair of me to think this, maybe I should have some more hope, but deep down I know that Dean Saxe will be dead soon. And I don't want to deal with the feeling it will bring.

Daddy can help, I know that he can. His experience with grief highly outweighs my own, but I don't want to need his help.

I don't want to be here anymore. I need to go. I need to do something. And so without thinking, I disconnect myself from Lily's embrace and swing my legs over the side of the bed. Quickly, I get dressed and climb out the window.

When I arrive at the Saxes, the sun is still rising. It is a beautiful summer morning, the air fresh with a light mist, the ground littered with flowers and bees. It's an unfortunate thing, that the day will be ruined with bloodshed.

Before I can even knock on the door, I sense a presence behind me. "Hey," says Burdock in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"I told you I'd be here for the start of the Games," I say.

"Well… yeah, but it's 5:30. The Games don't start until 9!"

I shrug, and proceed to knock on the door. Justin opens it slightly and upon seeing it's the two of us, he opens it fully and engulfs us in a hug.

The house is full of despair. Joey — still asleep — keeps shifting, the nightmares probably unbearable for the young boy. My heart aches so much to see him like this. I think about Lily waking up to an empty bed, probably enduring all that bloodshed on her own, and for a brief moment I feel guilty. But when I look at the sleeping boy, I know I've made the right choice. Lily's family isn't dying today. His is. And his life will never be the same.

Besides him sits Briar, stroking the young boys hair whenever he shifts, but the look in his eye is concerning. I've seen the look before in my father's eyes. It's a look that always rolls around most prominently during the anniversary of my Auntie's death. I've had lots of experience with the look, and I know there's little we can do to fix it.

But I realize something, looking at this boy who is only a year older than me. All this time, I've looked at my father's condition as a bit of a burden on the family: How Mama has to run the apothecary while he sleeps all day; How I have to take care of Lily when he can't; How I am in charge of the healing when he can't; How Mama has to force him to eat when he can't; How I have to make the medicines when he can't; How the mood in the house changes when he's like this. But it isn't a choice that he's making. He simply can't help it.

And I guess that's something I've always known. I suppose I have felt the same way from time to time. But looking at the way the Games have affected Briar Saxe before they've even begun, puts a whole lot into perspective. Perhaps I've been too hard on Daddy. Perhaps I don't know him enough. Perhaps I've been making this all about me, when it should've been about him. Maybe I should be trying harder to fix him, experimenting with herbs just like he's done for countless others. So much for being a healer.

Thomas and Justin are not doing the best either. They seem tired. Really tired. Like the luxury of sleep is far too grand to partake in at the moment. But then again, I can say the same about everybody in this room, myself included. Neither of them says a thing, and nobody seems to want them to.

A part of me feels like an intruder. A clear standout in this crowd. Me, with my blonde hair in a sea of dark haired boys. Me, with my pale skin, my eyes blue. Me, the only girl. Everything is screaming at me to run away. To get back before Mama wakes up, before Lily wakes up. To be with my people. But after spending so much time with the Saxes, and subsequently with Burdock, I find that I cannot move.

It is an odd feeling. This feeling of being stuck. I want to help, but there is nothing I can do. What can I do? As if able to read my mind, Burdock suddenly whispers, "Hey, Asterid? Can you help me in the kitchen?"

The kitchen in the Saxe household is narrow, barely allowing for the both of us to inhabit it. He begins removing things from the satchel he brought with him. Among them, is a little bundle of wild carrots with small white flowers atop it. Queen Anne's Lace.

I pick it up and inspect it, giggling softly as I rotate the bundle in my hands. "No giant hogweed this time?" I tease.

He rolls his eyes, but a small smile plays on his lips, "Tell your Pa he can keep the flowers. I just need your help with the rabbits."

"What do you need?"

"Well I was thinking of making a stew. I bought some potatoes from the hob yesterday, and we have the carrots. I'm not really sure where to start though."

"Do you not know how to cook?" I ask incredulously.

"No," he gruffs as if embarrassed. "I hunt, Pa cooks. It's our arrangement. Although right now I'm admittedly regretting it."

"Move over," I say with a slight chuckle, and just like that, the morning passes by in a bliss of domesticity. As our time in the kitchen progresses, and the aroma of the stew fills the home, more and more of the Saxes join us. Each of them being given a task. Even Briar joins us, as we prepare to endure the worst morning of the year.

At 8:30, the program begins. The first half hour is just Claudius Templesmith and Caesar Flickerman giving the odds and speculating on the tributes' hidden strengths. But at 8:59, the countdown begins.

The sound always sends a shiver down my spine, but I've never had a friend be in the Games before. As I watch the stupid timer tick down lower and lower, I can feel my heart pump faster and faster. The room fills with a silence that no one dares break, and at exactly 9:00 am, the gong rings and we see the arena in its entirety for the first time. It is unlike anything I've ever seen before.

None of the tributes move. None of them dare leave their podium. Because truly, none of them know where they are. The skies are somehow on the ground, and the ground in the sky. The tributes wear shiny windbreakers and reflective baggy pants, making their surroundings reflect off of each other. And there are mirrors everywhere. They're in the lakes and on the mountains. And this makes knowing where you are nearly impossible.

After the initial shock of the arena wears off, a couple of the tributes run into the Cornucopia, where they've laid out a series of weapons. But it's mayhem. I can't even tell what I'm looking at.

"Where's Dean?" asks Briar, as he relentlessly searches the screen for a sign of his brother.

Tributes run into one another without caution. They can't seem to get their footing on where they are, and honestly, neither can we. The reflections are so confusing that I feel a slight headache coming on just from trying to keep up with the action.

Finally, we get a glimpse of the boy we want to see. Dean Saxe is still on his podium, his face reflecting the confusion mirrored in every other tribute. At some point he manages to get off and runs off somewhere. But he keeps crashing into the mirrors.

The screen cuts to our other District 12 tribute—who like Dean, is currently running—but she doesn't seem to have a plan. The District 1 girl catches up to her, and Clarisse is running; and I know she's trying her hardest, but I don't have any faith that she can make it out. The District 1 girl tosses her knife toward Clarisse Owens, but the knife hits a mirror instead, and it ricochets off of the mirror and lands on her own hand. Clarisse manages to run away once more, and then the screen turns away to show all the madness. In total, eight kids died in the bloodshed. The remaining 16 look too terrified to move from their positions.

I decide to stay for the rest of the day, but besides the initial bloodbath, there is not much action to be seen. Instead, I help the Saxes with their day to day chores. Justin took the day off of the mines, and Thomas and Briar seem too focused on the screen to do anything else. Burdock and I spend the entire day trying to take care of them, ensuring that they eat, that they drink water, that Joey gets a bath. Occasionally some of their friends pass by. Haymitch came by for a bit and dropped off some liquor. Blair stopped by and managed to get Briar to eat a full meal. Even one of Dean's friends stopped by to watch with the Saxes for a bit. But by the end, the 16 remaining tributes stay in their hiding place. It doesn't seem like much else will occur, and it's getting late. I need to face the consequences of my actions.

"You leaving?" asks Burdock as I gather my things.

"Yeah I think so," I reply. "If anyone needs anything you let me know right away, ok?"

"Of course," he says. "Can I walk you home?"

"You can walk me to the square, but after that I think I should go alone. I don't think Mama would like it if I show up with you at the doorstep."

He scoffs, "Yeah, because why would her daughter want to bring home a Seam rat, right?"

"Burdock, I-"

"It's fine Asterid," he cuts in. "I understand her hesitancy."

I say my goodbyes to the Saxes and promise to be back soon, and just like that Burdock and I are on our way.

"You know," I begin. "I really don't like it when you call yourself that."

"Well, I really don't like it when your people call me that. Excuse me for trying to reclaim it," he barks back.

"I'm sorry," I whisper. And I am. I truly am. Because I don't understand why merchants hate the Seam folk so much. I never have, and after befriending so many of them, I know I never will.

"No," he says, sighing and rubbing his face with his hands, "I'm sorry. It isn't your fault."

"Maybe not, but it is my mother who thinks those things."

"I can't believe she really thinks you would sleep with him," he says shaking his head.

"I can't believe it either," I say looking down at my feet. We walk a moment in silence, but I find it unbearable, and after a while I realize I don't want to hold it inside any longer. "She was my best friend."

"Your Ma?"

"Yeah," I say chuckling softly. "When my Auntie died, Lily and Moira came to live with us."

"Moira?"

"My baby cousin," I respond. "She was Lily's little sister."

"Shit. What happened to her?" he asks.

"She starved to death."

"A merchant girl starved to death?" he asks incredulously. I suppose it is pretty unheard of. At least in his part of the District.

"Well, not in the way you might be thinking," I respond. "When Auntie Allie died, her husband went a little mad. He stopped working or… doing anything really. Daddy got very sad when she died and he wouldn't leave his bed for several months. By the time he finally got over it enough to go see the girls, they were already very malnourished. And my Uncle, well, he died shortly after. But not before screwing his daughters of a normal life."

"He starved?" he asks.

"Yeah, in a way. Although none of us know why. Maybe he was too depressed and couldn't feed himself or his kids. Or maybe it was intentional, and he was trying to kill himself and his daughters. But anyway. Moira didn't live long after moving in with us. Daddy tried to fix her, but it was no use.

"After that, all his attention went towards making sure Lily stayed alive. And although I loved her like a sister, it was really hard not to feel ignored by him. So, Mama started making up for it. She'd take me on special outings every week, just the two of us. We'd go to the sweetshop, or she'd take me to get a dress made, or shoes, or really whatever she felt would make me feel better. And every year on my birthday, she would go all out. She'd special order a cake from the bakery even though we couldn't really afford it, and she'd buy real meat from the grocer and make something special for dinner."

There's a part of me that realizes what this must sound like to him. That I must come off as a spoiled girl who got even more spoiled the moment the attention wasn't on her. But when I look at Burdock, I am greeted by a soft smile and kind eyes. The type of smile I can't help but match. "That sounds lovely," he says. "What did she make this year?"

My own smile falls off my face, "Oh, she was still pretty mad at me by then."

"For the rumors?"

"No, for the mine accident."

"So she didn't do anything special?"

"No. We had cabbage soup, princess," I say chuckling, calling back to our first ever conversation, and trying to make light of the situation.

"That's not funny," he responds in earnest.

"No. I suppose it's not," I say.

"I wish you had told me it was your birthday," he says, looking down at the ground.

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"Just that I could've gotten you a gift."

"But you did! I loved the flowers, Burdock."

"Yeah, but you got them the day after your birthday. And besides, I could've gotten you a special dinner."

"Yeah?" I ask, "You and what cooking skills?"

He gasps loudly, "How dare you! I could've at least gotten you good meat!"

I can't help but laugh with him, and I am reminded of how easy our friendship is. Or rather how easy it was. My birthday. He stopped speaking to me after my birthday, but why? I want to ask him, but we are doing so good and I'm afraid that bringing it up will mess things up. Still, there's a part of me that fears that after the Games, he won't ever speak to me again. We won't have anything to bring us together after Dean dies.

I'm about to ask him when we reach the square, and it's time to say goodbye. "I'll see you soon," I say.

"You promise?" he asks.

"I promise," I reply. And I mean it. I will see Burdock Everdeen again.

"Where in Panem have you been, young lady!" exclaims Mama as I walk through the threshold of the house.

"I was out. With friends."

"Really? Cause I called the Donners, and you weren't there. And I went over to the Mellarks, and you weren't there either. Now unless you've managed to strike up a friendship among Ottessa Greene and her little friends, I sincerely doubt you were anywhere decent."

"I guarantee you, Mother, the people I was with are far more decent than Ottessa Greene!"

"Seam rats?"

"Phoebe!" yells Daddy. "Please. It's late. She's tired. We're tired. Let's talk about this in the morning."

"No," she responds. "I want to talk about this now. What is up with your fascination with those people?"

"Those people, Mama?"

"Yes. Those people. They aren't like us."

"No. They aren't!" I exclaim. "They take care of each other! They feed each other when they can. They love each other. And it isn't just some stupid business transaction!"

"Business transaction?" she yells. "What does that even mean?"

"It means that the only reason you like Otho and the Donners so much is because it's good for our business!" I yell back. "Because that way, Lily can take over the apothecary and I go work at the bakery. Or Otho can work here and Dori will take over the bakery. Everybody knows that Mr. Donner will be Mayor one day, and it can't hurt that his daughters are my best friends, now can it? You can't lose that way!"

"Asterid," cuts in Daddy with a pained look on his face. "You are free to love and be friends with whoever you want to!"

"No she's not!" yells Mama. "You don't want Otho? That's fine! We'll find you someone else. But don't pretend it's that simple Theo! You are free to chose who you want as long as he's a merchant."

"Phoebe!" he yells out.

"Tell her I'm wrong, Theodore! Tell her there is any other way! You want the apothecary, Asterid? By all means, take it. Lily can't handle the blood and she doesn't know plants the way you do. The apothecary was always going to go to you. But there isn't a world where you can have both! You can't have whatever Seam rat you're running with now and the apothecary. You're going to have to choose."

I can't sleep. In fact, I don't think I'll ever sleep again. The sky is black, the moon illuminating our room, and in my arms is the little girl that keeps me grounded. The Games have been on for three days. The tributes are dying, albeit slowly. Most are dying of thirst and starvation. Everyone is too confused and scared of their surroundings to leave their hiding places. A few of the tributes are slowly going mad. If there isn't any more action soon, the Gamemakers will start sending out muttations. Dean and Clarisse are somehow still alive.

I don't know how to turn my brain off. I want to stop thinking about everything that Mama said, but isn't she right? No, she's not. No. Because then that would mean I would end up with a Seam boy, and who would that even be? Dean's out of the picture. Briar? Nah that would feel wrong, like I'm marrying a brother of sorts. Haymitch? He's attractive enough, but everybody knows he's enamored with Lenore Dove Baird. Blair? He's so quiet and weird and really only speaks to Briar. So who? Burdock? Burdock doesn't even like me. When given the choice he chooses not to speak to me. And besides, why am I even thinking about this? Haven't I said time and time again that I would never marry? I don't even want to marry Otho! So why am I still thinking about her words?

You can't have whatever Seam rat you're running with now and the apothecary. You're going to have to choose.

The apothecary. I would choose the apothecary. Right? I mean it is my life's purpose. It is the only thing that gets me out of bed some days. The ability to help people. To solve just one small issue in the myriad of crap that District 12 citizens endure everyday, That's the only reason we are in this mess. Because seven years ago, I chose to help a small bullied boy, and now he will die in the Games. Because just a month ago, I chose to save a man I didn't know and Dean took a lashing for it. I am a healer. It is intrinsically a part of me. And nothing and no one will ever take that away from me.

"Astrid?" whispers Lily.

"Yes, bug?"

"You're not leaving today right?"

She asks the question in a voice so small and timid, that it makes me want to shrink into myself. I know I have been prioritizing the Saxes over her, but how could I not? Still, I hate that she feels alone, and there is no way I can sneak past Mama. In fact, I haven't left in the last two days. "No, Lily. I'm staying right here."

"How is he?" she asks.

"Who?"

"The boy. Umm, Joe?"

Joey. I forgot that they're the same age, in the same class. Maybe they're even friends. Maybe Lily might want to come along with me.

"He's doing as best as he can, Lily. It isn't easy for him."

"Yeah," she says, "I remember when Moira died. I thought I would too."

I hug her as tight as I can because no child should ever feel that way.

"His brother's going to die isn't he?"

"Yeah. Probably," I respond.

"Are you going to be sad?"

"Yes," I reply, and she hugs me tighter. Tighter than I would've thought possible.

"I promise I'll be there for you the way you were for me," she whispers into my chest. "You can sleep with me for a whole year if you'd like."

And just like that, I start to cry. And this little girl is holding me. This isn't her job though. And it isn't her arms that I want. I want Mama. I want Mama to want to hold me like this. To tell me I can sleep in her bed for a year after one of my friends die. I want the comfort of her arms, not the venom of her words. I want her to tell me old tales of what happens when we die. Old tales of a place called Heaven. I want her to tell me I'll be fine, not to call me a whore. But if the last week has taught me anything, it is that I will not get that. So I settle for the little girl who is far too little to hold me against her chest. The little girl I spent so long being jealous of.

We're sitting in the parlor when it happens. It's far after we've closed the apothecary, but we're still watching, because today the Games took a turn for the worst. This morning, Clarisse Owens died at the hands of a District 4 tribute. She thought she was running away, but really she just ran straight into his sword.

The Games are now down to seven tributes. The boy from District 1, both tributes from District 2, the girl from District 3 —although none of us have seen her since the start of the Games— the boy from District 4, the boy from District 6, and Dean.

But the lack of bloodshed has been too good to be true. The Capitolites are getting bored, and the Gamemakers simply cannot have that.

In a twist so fast, the bugs are released from the reflective trees surrounding these boulders. They're small metallic things that run at the speed of light. And they travel together, forming a horrifying swarm. They force all the tributes out of their spots and all of a sudden, the tributes are running from the dreadful things, but not everyone can run that fast. And nearly all of them are crashing.

The boy from 1 sustained a leg injury earlier in the Games, and he simply cannot keep up with the speed of the beetles. If that wasn't bad enough, he keeps losing his way in the arena, constantly crashing into boulders that look like open space. The beetles surround him in a flash, dragging him down as they cover his entire body, not allowing him to breathe. He screams until he runs out of air, and then he discovers that that was a mistake. Because now, he cannot breathe. That was his last one, and it was wasted in horror. The cannon sounds, but not soon enough because although we cannot see much of his body, his twitching indicates a struggle as his final moments are taken from him. And then the bugs begin to move again.

Despite the confusing arena, the rest of the tributes have made it pretty far at this point. Dean is the fastest though, and he runs ahead of them all with the two District 2 tributes hard on his heels. The boy from District 4 is the slowest, with the beady eyed girl from 3 shortly ahead. Then in a horrifying turn of events, the girl from 2 jumps on Dean's back and begins to choke him. But she's too small and he throws her off of him, but not before the boy from 2 throws a spear. The spear hits a boulder nearby and Dean runs away as fast as he can.

The beetles are running and are near the tributes now. As Dean runs away from the District 2 tributes, the beetles attack the boy from 4, and just like the boy from 1, he slowly twitches and suffocates to death. But the beady eyed girl from 3 makes a turn and she disappears from view, narrowly dodging the beetles that were coming for her next.

The beetles have stopped running though, and now they make a loud chirping sound as they retreat to their boulders. The District 6 boy runs away, but the District 2 tributes approach Dean again who is now holding the spear that they'd previously thrown. But the mirrors are so confusing. And none of them are certain of where exactly they should go.

The boy runs to him with a knife, but crashes into one of the mirrors. The girl tries the same but she too cannot seem to find Dean. He doesn't move. He looks paralyzed, and I can only image Maysilee yelling at her screen for him to do something. And he does. He throws the spear at the girl, somehow managing to find the real her in a nest of mirrors. But as he prepares to run away, he runs straight into the boys knife. The boy twists it, once, twice, until blood begins to come out of Dean's mouth. And then he removes the knife, surely killing him. He runs toward the District 2 girl who is still managing to breathe in short gasps, but she too is as sure as dead. Dean lies still in a pool of his own death, and that's when we hear it. The cannon.

I make a loud choking sound as I cover my face with my hands. Daddy and Lily are at my side in an instant, but it is no use. Dean Saxe is now dead. Knowing it would happen didn't make the reality any easier, and all I can do now is cry. I cry until my head hurts, and then and only then do I hear her.

"I'm sorry Asterid," whispers Mama with a pained look on her face.

"No, you're not!" I yell, and I run up to my room.

Chapter Text

Things don't change much after our District 12 tributes die. Their families mourn, and the district falls into that quiet reprieve where we all avoid the topic for a while, but besides that, everything is the same. Commander Ross continues his tirades wherever and whenever he can. People are still mercilessly whipped for small "crimes" and children still starve. But the March household? That's a different story.

I can't recall much of the end of the Games. I know the small shy girl from District 3 won, but how? I can't say. I seem to be wandering about my days with no real sense of direction. I can't remember waking up, or getting dressed, or working at the shop. I know I've been doing it, but I don't really know how. I feel as if I myself were trapped in that arena. In the nest of mirrors.

The colors around me have become significantly muted, and everything is quiet. I know Otho stops by everyday. I'm sure there have been some kisses involved, but I don't remember those either. And Daddy is concerned. He's made that very clear, but it's become increasingly hard to listen to him. Mama has been nice again, but I'm not sure that I trust it. Lily has kept true to her promise and lets me sleep with her every night.

Nightmares have plagued my sleep every night since that night with the beetles. I dream of them chasing after me, after Lily, after Burdock, after Dean. Sometimes, I dream of Dean yelling at me, somehow blaming me for his death. Sometimes I dream of the Saxes, berating me for not being there for them since his death. And every time, I wake up screaming and clawing at the air for some sense of relief. In my most panicked moments, Lily has to rush to get Daddy, and the only thing that fixes it is sleep syrup. Perhaps that's been contributing to the brain fog, but I suspect Daddy is right. I am sick. Probably not as sick as him or Briar, but I can't deny it any longer.

Tonight, the dream is longer, and more vivid. I dream of the day I first spoke to Dean. I was five, and he was eight. Daddy had been taking frequent visits to their house since Thomas's mine accident. Up until that point, Daddy didn't let me near patients. He said I wasn't ready, that I needed to learn more about plants and bedside manner, and that I was far too young to be traumatized by some of the ailments he treated. But I couldn't resist. Anytime a patient would come in, I would beg him to let me help him, and he never agreed.

Thomas Saxe was no different. I begged him to let me come every single time, that I was ready. But of course he would say no, time and time again. Until that day.

Dean Saxe came into the apothecary small and timid. It was no secret that his family was struggling with the recent death of his mother, and now the injury that forced Thomas out of the mines. But still, I had never seen a kid that skinny before. He said his dad needed help and his baby brother had a fever. It was enough for me to convince Daddy to let me come. I could tend to a feverish one year old while he cared for the more serious injury.

Dean and I didn't talk much that day, but afterwards, he always made it a point to at least say hello in passing. In return, I would always offer him a smile. And after the Caesar incident, I couldn't help but notice the boy around school. I would join in on his lessons with Maysilee, and watch as his frustration grew on his face. I remember how we would exchange knowing glances when May would say things we knew she didn't mean. Like we shared a secret.

I dream of this now. These small exchanges of pleasantries. How his left brow would raise slightly when he smirked. How his smile was always uneven. How his hair grew longer as his confidence grew. It's an odd dream. Like I'm watching his life flash before my eyes. It is a painstakingly beautiful dream. One I'm not sure if I want to wake up from, or live in forever.

But tonight, I don't wake up with screaming. I just wake up with tears. And I know that I don't want to feel it. Being sad about his death means I'm accepting it, and I don't want to do that just yet.

Green. It is all that I see. Endless amounts of green. And for a brief moment, I am confused. Why am I here? And how did I get here? Am I dreaming? No it can't be. The chill of the air is too real. The smell of the earth too grounding.

"Asterid?" asks a familiar voice behind me. I turn around to see Burdock Everdeen is staring at me with wide, concerned eyes. The sky is still dark, the sun not quite ready to rise, and behind him is the fence. "What are you doing?"

"I don't know," I respond, equally confused. When did I walk to the fence? And when did I cross it? Why, is probably the more pressing question. Why am I in the woods?

"Were you… sleepwalking?" he asks, eying me up and down. And only now do I realize what I've done. I left my home in such a hurry, not even bothering to change. My hair is without a doubt messy, my shorts far too short, and my shirt far too see through.

I look down frantically moving my arms on my chest, but I know it is no use. Swiftly, he removes a thin flannel from his body and proceeds to wrap me in it. "Umm, you look about Mom's size," he starts, his brows still furrowed in concern. "I don't live far from here. If you want to go change there, I can walk you home after."

I nod, suddenly unable to speak , and I let him lead me to his home. He keeps glancing my way, clearly still concerned, and I feel some weird sense of guilt. Like he's taking care of me when he has other more important things to be doing. And what the hell am I doing here? I don't even remember leaving this morning. I remember my dream, and I remember waking up to silent tears. I can't remember anything else.

"I'm sorry I'm wasting your time," I start, looking at the empty bag slung over his shoulder. "I'm sure you had other plans."

"Well," he says, grimacing, "I was gonna go hunting, but I don't mind walking you home."

"No!" I exclaim. "By all means, go! I don't know what I was thinking. Besides I'm already here, I may as well be here for the Saxes."

"Don't you have to be back before your Ma wakes up?"

"Nah. She already thinks so poorly of me, might as well fuel into her delusions."

We walk the rest of the way in silence and arrive at his house shortly after. It's a small building, with a creaky front door. Inside, the floors are made of concrete. The living room is small, but there's a rather large couch, and two smaller chairs beside it, all pointing at the small TV on a credenza. It's beautiful, with rather intricate carvings in the wood. It looks similar to the mortar and pestle that Thomas gave me, and instantly I know it was his handy-work.

The kitchen to the left is homey. On the kitchen counter, lies a mix of different dried herbs, that in the apothecary would be ready to turn into medicines, but here they probably use it for tea. Beside the kitchen, lies an archway that leads to a small bathroom and two small bedrooms. There are no stairs, which is weird to me, but then again, why would there be? My own home is not much bigger than this, the only difference is the shop downstairs.

"I know it's not much," he mumbles, his cheeks flushed as if embarrassed.

"It's beautiful," I respond.

"You don't have to lie, Asterid."

"It's… lived in. Comforting," I amend. It's true. Although not the nicest home I've been in, it has a quality that mine doesn't. It feels warm. Of course that could be the concrete floors and the fact that it's the middle of summer, but despite this, there is something quite welcoming about the Everdeen home.

"Thanks," he says with a warm smile. "I'm gonna just ge-"

"Lyndon?" interrupts an older woman. I recognize her, I think. Though I can't quite place where from.

"Ma Azure, go back to sleep!" he chastises, "It's still dawn!"

"Iris!" she exclaims walking my way. "I haven't seen you in years!"

Burdock looks at me with a concerned expression on his face. The woman doesn't seem entirely lucid. Taking her age into consideration, I'd venture a guess as to why. Daddy has treated elders with the condition before. The best course of action is usually to play along. If you correct them, they tend to get upset, and it often makes situations worse.

"That's right! How are you?" I ask with a smile on my face.

"Iris, I need to warn you!" she says frantically. "You need to keep that boy away from Allison!"

The smile falls of my face. Iris. Allison. These are not just random names that the woman has conjured up. She's confusing me with my grandmother.

"Why?" I ask.

"He's bad news Iris! I mean it! Just think about what he did to my poor Marie Rose!"

"Barb!" exclaims a man from the threshold of his bedroom. "That's enough."

"Pa!" exclaims Burdock. "We're just here to umm…"

"It's my fault!" I cut in. "I was just sleepwalking and Burdock offered me a change of clothes."

The man examines my face closely, as if trying to place me. "You're Theodore's daughter right?"

"Yes, sir."

"Wow," he says, a glint forming in his eye. "Well I can see why Ma Azure is confused. You look just like Iris."

"Thank you, sir," I say a bit awkwardly. "I'm told she was very beautiful in her day."

"Lyndon," he says. "You can just call me Lyndon."

"I'm Asterid," I say extending my hand towards him with a smile on my face. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

He shakes my hand precariously, as if confused by the movement. Perhaps it's not a common greeting in the Seam, or maybe he's not used to someone from Town being open to meet like this.

"Pa, I'm going to walk Asterid to the Saxe house. Do you mind if I borrow some clothes from Mom?"

"Not at all son," says Lyndon, still examining my face. "Say, Asterid. Are you any good with the healing?"

"Oh she's the best," replies Burdock before I can make a sound. "Theo says she's better than him!"

"I don't know about that!" I exclaim, with a small smile on my face. "But I know my way around healing."

"Good," he says, "You should meet my wife." He exchanges a look with Burdock, and they silently have a conversation. I'm not entirely sure really what's going on, but it seems private, so I turn my attention on the so-called Ma Azure.

"Lyndon's a good boy, I'm glad Marie Rose found him," she whispers my way.

"Marie Rose is your daughter?" I ask.

"Yes! Oh she's beautiful. So is Allison! That's why you've got to keep her away from that boy," she says leaning in so only I could hear, "Men like that, they take the life out of a girl."

"Asterid," calls Burdock, stealing my attention from the older woman. "My Pa would like you to meet Mom." He extends a hand out to me and gently places it on my back as he leads me to a small bedroom in the corner of the house. "She's… well. She's not… well."

"What's wrong with her?" I ask as I examine the features on his face. He wears a sad look, and he almost looks ashamed. As if he doesn't want me to look behind the curtain.

"I'm sure you'll figure it out," he says.

The woman in front of me is beautiful, although time has clearly not been kind to her. She has beautiful blue eyes and a light complexion, but that's where our similarities end. Besides that, she looks so much like Burdock. They have the same dark wavy hair, the same angular nose, and the same full lips. And although their eyes are different colors, they have the same fire in them. She looks small though. And when she coughs, I can see the problem. The Black Lung.

"How old is she?" I ask.

"She's 35," answers Lyndon.

"35?" I ask incredulously. I have never seen someone so young present such severe symptoms of the Black Lung. "What are you giving her for this?"

"Your Pa gave us some sort of sleep syrup, antibiotics, and every now and then he'll experiment with natural herbal remedies," responds Burdock.

"The Burdock," I whisper. "That's what that was for."

"The… what?" he asks.

"Burdock. The root, I mean," I clarify. "It can be good for respiratory health."

"But?" asks Lyndon.

"Burdock grows in a two year cycle," I explain. "The first year, it is harvested in the fall, and this is when it is at it's most medicinal value. Then it is harvested the following spring, but the spring harvests usually have little to no medicinal value. Those are mostly used for food. Daddy and I don't have any left from the fall harvest. Only from the spring, and I don't think it will do much to help her."

"Is there anything you can do?" he asks with an air of desperation. This man also looks older than he probably is. I wonder how long she's been fighting this. I wonder how much energy is being spent on treating her.

"I'll have to talk to Daddy, see what he's done. It's not good to mix certain herbs together."

We walk side by side throughout the Seam. I know the deal was to walk me to the Saxes, but I find that I don't want to lose his company.

"So," I begin. "Ma Azure? She seems familiar. Do I know her?"

"Umm, you've met. She was at the Saxes when you were treating Dean. She's the one that begged you to stop?" he says.

"Oh," I respond, briefly aware of the moment he was talking about.

"You really don't remember her?"

"No, I do. Kind of. I don't know. I guess I just tend to zone out a bit when I'm treating someone."

"Yeah, I know," he says with a chuckle. "Iris?"

"She was my grandmother," I clarify. "Iris March. Daddy says she was the greatest healer in all of District 12. She died when I was four. Right after Lily was born."

"Allison. That's your aunt?"

"Yeah," I say surprised. "How did you know that?"

"Your dad mentioned her once."

"My dad mentioned Auntie Allie to you?" I ask, stopping in my tracks.

"Yeah…" he responds, clearly confused by my reaction. "Should he have not?"

"It's just… odd. That's all."

"What do you mean?"

"He never talks about her. It makes him too sad."

We resume our walk through the Seam, but the closer we get there, the more I find that I do not want to be in the Saxe household. The mere thought of being around that much grief makes me want to hide. But how could I not want to comfort them in such an hour of need?

"Does it make you sad?" asks Burdock, drawing me away from my thoughts.

"Does what make me sad?"

"Talking about your aunt," he clarifies.

"No. Maybe?" I start, shaking my head. "It makes me question things. Sometimes, it makes me feel guilty. Like I could've stopped her death. Other times, it makes me sad that she's not here anymore. But most times, I'm sad that we aren't allowed to talk about her."

"Why not?"

"Because Daddy tends to lose it when he remembers too much."

"Lose it?"

"I think it must be very hard to lose a sibling. Have you noticed how Briar has changed?" I ask.

"Yeah, I think we've all noticed that. It's a serious concern of ours," he replies kicking a rock in his path.

"Well, that's what Daddy's like sometimes," I say. "Every year around her birthday, or her death, or a major event, he gets… I don't know. He sort of shuts down."

"How do you fix it?"

"I don't know," I say with a shrug. "Mama says he just needs time. She takes care of him for the most part. But lately I've realized that maybe I should be doing more."

We stand in front of the Saxe house, but neither of us moves to knock. I don't want to go in. I don't want to do anything. I want to disappear.

"Asterid?" asks Burdock quietly.

"Yes?"

"Why were you in the woods this morning?"

I don't know. I don't need anything from the woods. And even if I did, I've never been outside the fence before. But the thought of being there is so comforting. Perhaps what I was seeking this morning was simply the comfort of silence. The comfort of life. There is life all around in the woods. From the trees and plants that grow there, to the wildlife that inhabits it. And in this life, there are no Hunger Games. There are no dead Aunties or disappointed mothers. No broken fathers or murdered friends. There's just life.

"I guess I just wanted to see it," I whisper, looking to the floor.

"Do you still want to see it?"

There is life all around me. Bees swarm the trees that are growing the summer fruits. Fruits that I didn't even know were out here. Fruits that would cost an arm and a leg at the grocer's, just growing in our very backyard. It's beautiful. The greens and reds and blues. And the smell. It smells lovely.

At my feet, grows a small patches of invaluable weeds. Things Daddy and I would have a field day with. Things that the Capitol would never send us. Around me are patches of Yarrow, and Dandelions, and Violets, and Creeping Charlie. Weeds that people view as a nuisance, but we see as an opportunity. I can't help myself. I stoop down to pick at the weeds, and to my surprise Burdock joins me.

"What exactly are we picking?" he asks.

"All of it," I reply, almost giddy.

He gives me a small smile and proceeds to pick at the small yellow flowers on the floor. Then, much to my surprise, he pops one in his mouth.

"Have you never had a dandelion before?" he asks chuckling slightly at my reaction.

"No. I mean, I knew you could eat them, but Mama never liked them much so Daddy stopped making salads with them when they got married."

"Try one," he says, extending a dandelion in my direction. I take a cautious bite, sure that I would hate it, but the flavor is not bad. And I can almost picture Burdock out here on his own, snacking on weeds that he doesn't even know do more than just feed someone.

"I'm sorry," I say for the millionth time this morning. "I'm just slowing you down."

"No, I… I don't really need to be out here today," he says hesitating. "I just needed something to do… I'm tired of not being able to help."

"I should be there," I whisper.

"No you shouldn't," he says shaking his head. "The Saxes are angry. Thomas is breaking things, Justin is trying to organize a strike, Briar is barely there, and Joey is just crying. You can go. You can extend your condolences, but Thomas is too angry to see things clearly right now. Right now all he'll see is your privilege and not your heart."

"But wouldn't hiding from this be a privilege?" I ask.

"Maybe. But maybe you should lean into that more, Asterid!"

"What do you mean?"

"I hear you've been treating all the latest lashing victims for free?"

"Is that a question or a statement?" I ask defensively, though I really want to know the answer. It sounds like something I'd do, but the last few days have been so dark, I can't remember anything.

"Why are you putting your life on the line for people who wouldn't do the same?" he asks angrily now.

I don't know how to answer that question, so instead we stare at each other in silent frustration. But there's something gnawing at me about what he's said. I can't quite figure out how to articulate it. I'm sure this is the most I've spoken in days, and my brain is still a little foggy.

"Dean put his life on the line for me," I finally answer.

He pauses for a while, looking out at the distance, the rest of the greenery. "Dean is dead now," he whispers angrily. Not at me. I know he's mad at the world, but it still makes me feel bad. Because the truth is, Dean never stood a chance at making it out of the Reaping. He's been caring for his family for much too long. And I've never had to. And maybe I couldn't save him from the Reaping, but I could save his family from being alone in their grief.

"What do you care if I'm putting my life on the line?" I ask angrily. Not necessarily at Burdock, but just in general. "It wouldn't change your world in any way!"

"You think-" he starts, exhaling in frustration as he works up himself. "You think I wouldn't care if something happened to you, Asterid? You think my life would just go on? God, you really have no idea do you?"

"No idea? No idea of what?"

"The effect you have!" he nearly yells.

I scoff, ready to refute whatever that means, but he continues, "You think that just because your father isn't all there and your mother's love is conditional that people aren't going to love you? That your life isn't worth anything?"

"What do you care?" I yell back. "You don't even like me! You think I'm just some spoiled princess! The only reason you're even talking to me right now is because Dean was reaped! Before that, it's like you wanted nothing to do with me!"

"Fuck, Asterid! Don't you get it?" he laughs, "It's because I-" and then he cuts himself off.

"Because you what?" I ask, demanding an answer.

"Because I know you don't feel the same way," he finally whispers defeatedly, looking to the ground with an expression I can't read.

"And what way is that?"

"You don't want me in your life," he states as if it were clear as day.

"Yes, Burdock. I hate you so much," I start sarcastically. "It's why I try to talk to you at school at any given chance, and why I almost missed a date with Otho to help your mom, and why I'm risking my relationship with my mom to be out here with you."

"No, you're doing that for Dean."

We stare at each other until one of us breaks, but neither of us will. We're both too caught up in our insecurities to hear the other one out. He thinks he means nothing to me. I think I mean nothing to him. And all I can think of at the moment is the amount of time we've wasted with these stupid preconceived notions of the other.

"Fine," I finally say, taking a deep breath. I extend my hand to shake his and force a smile on my face, "My name is Asterid. It's very nice to meet you."

"What are you doing?" he asks.

"We're starting over. There was no mine accident. There was no lashing. Dean isn't around. This is just about you and me. My name is Asterid. What's yours?"

He pauses for a moment, staring at my extended hand with the same confused expression his father wore. Maybe he doesn't want to start over. Maybe he wants to forget. Forget the girl who caused his best friend's brother so much pain. But just as I'm about to give up and drop my hand, he reaches out and clasps it with his own. "It's nice to meet you, Asterid. My name is Burdock. But all my friends call me Burd."