Primrose Everdeen (her_little_duck) wrote in expresslogs, @ 2012-11-17 23:34:00 |
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Entry tags: | marvel, primrose everdeen |
Death
Characters: Prim, Marvel
When: Day 6 of Panem
Location: Indoor observation car
Warnings/Rating: Character death
Summary: Prim sees herself die
Status: Complete, Gdoc'd
For nearly a week, Prim had been on edge and afraid to look out the window. She knew where they were, and every time she had glanced out, she’d seen things she hadn’t wanted to see. She’d seen the Games -- things they hadn’t shown on TV. She’d seen Marvel die, she’d seen riots and destruction. She’d seen Katniss shot, she’d seen Peeta tortured, she’d seen Gale whipped. She’d watched her home destroyed, she’d seen the bombing of 13. As far as she was concerned, they couldn’t get out of this reality fast enough. Some people were grumbling about lost things; she didn’t care about any of that. Nothing outside the window was anything good. Still, when she passed through the enclosed observation car, she couldn’t help but glance over. The sight was enough to catch her attention, and it was a moment or two before she really realized what she was seeing. The President’s mansion -- she knew it from TV spots -- but it was chaos. There were children all around, and … bombs. She searched the crowd for Katniss or for any familiar faces. When she saw herself, she knew she couldn’t turn away. Prim turned to face the window fully, watching herself as she moved through the crowd, rushing to aid those who had been struck by the bombs. From the corner of her eye, she saw Katniss, and she glanced that way, studying her sister briefly before she returned her eyes to herself. Her shirt was untucked outside the window, and almost absently she reached behind herself -- but she was wearing a dress, not a skirt, and there was no tail sticking out. Not in reality. In what she was watching unfold, the shirt tail soon became moot as more bombs fell. “No,” Prim whispered, watching her there-self, oblivious to the danger. “No,” she repeated, stepping closer to the window, pressing her hands to the glass. “No no no,” she gasped as the bombs started to go off. She could almost hear Katniss screaming, and then she herself was screaming, screaming out-there and in-here, screaming as the bomb burned her there-self, as Katniss tried to scramble over to her but Prim knew it was too late. Pounding on the glass as if that could make any difference, Prim screamed and screamed and sank to her knees, her eyes closing as the scenery passed. Pressing her forehead against the glass, she sobbed and hiccuped and screamed as she wrapped her arms around herself, curling up on the floor. She died. She was dead. At home … it couldn’t be more than a few months into her future. She looked the same. Katniss looked the same. It was … soon. Soon, and she was dead. Wrapped around herself, sobbing and choking, Prim tried to stop thinking about it. ___________ While Marvel tried to tell himself that he didn’t care about the scenery, he didn’t like it. He knew he had died at home, but watching it had been something else entirely. Not only that, but watching himself kill that little girl had almost been worse, especially when he recalled the sense of accomplishment and exhilaration that had coursed through him when he’d done it. Now it just made him sick to think about. For the most part, he tried not to look out the window, but unless it was related to the games or his home district, very little of what he’d seen made sense to him. He knew about the rebellion, but piecing it together from scenes out the window was difficult. He almost hated passing through the observation cars now because his curiosity almost always got the better of him. This time, though, his attention was caught by the obvious sound of someone sobbing. He furrowed his brow until he found the source and without really thinking about it, his legs set into motion and he was soon kneeling next to her. “Hey, hey,” he murmured as he tried to draw her into his arms. It was what he would have done if he’d found Lily crying like this, and right now it didn’t matter that she was Katniss’ little sister. She was just someone else from his world, who’d seen something she probably never should have seen. Someone who’d only ever been nice to him, despite who he was. ___________ It didn’t matter much to Prim who was trying to hold her. There were precious few people on board that she really knew anymore, since Gale and Katniss and Peeta had gone. Even Finnick and Annie were gone. There were others she’d befriended, and she didn’t really have any enemies on board, and it still didn’t matter who it was. Prim’s arms wrapped around his neck as she buried her face against his shoulder, and while she tried to still her sobs, she kept seeing herself, over and over, engulfed in flames and dying. She didn’t think she had to explain, once she recognized the voice and realized who it was. He’d know. Maybe not that she’d seen herself die, but he’d know she’d seen something horrible. “Me,” she managed to gasp. “It was me,” she whimper-sobbed against his shoulder as she clung to him. That, at least, would give him context, and the knowledge it wasn’t someone else she was crying for. Though all the other deaths had been more than bad enough, there was something else about knowing you died, and how. She could relate now to people like Lily who’d heard from others how they’d died. She’d seen how she died, and it was horrifying and -- -- and she wouldn’t have to go back to it. She could stay, if the train ever stopped. She’d be alone, mostly, but she could stay. There were other staying who could look after her. “I can’t go back,” she whispered as she drew her head back, working one hand back to wipe at her cheeks. “I can’t,” she repeated as she gazed at him. ___________ He, of course, had no idea what happened to her in the future. For all he knew, maybe Katniss died during the rebellion and she’d witnessed that. For some reason, he didn’t think of Prim as a person high up on a list of likely to die, but he guessed even just being Katniss’ sister would make her a likely target. When she managed to explain that it was her, he hugged her a little tighter for a moment. While he could relate, he couldn’t know exactly how she felt. The likelihood of himself dying was very high, even if he hadn’t arrived moments before his own death. Sure, he’d gone into the games with the intention of winning, but there had always been a part of him that knew he might not make it. He imagined Prim assumed she would grow up and live a long life. To learn otherwise -- and witness it, even -- was obviously crushing. “You don’t have to,” he assured her, and short of the train sending her back, it was true. He wasn’t sure if it was really related, but he thought a rescue might actually be happening -- and soon -- given how empty the train was. Or maybe he just hoped so, since he didn’t want to get sent back either. “We’ll get rescued and we’ll get to live somewhere else,” he went on as he gazed down at her, relaxing his hold just a bit. ______ She’d miss her sister. And Gale. Peeta. Annie. Finnick. Everyone she’d gotten to know at home, in District 13. Her mother. But if she went home, she’d be dead in a matter of months at most. Maybe only weeks. Weeks. The idea that she might only have weeks left to live sent a surge of panic through her. How soon was that event? Where did it fall in her timeline? Was it right after the bombing? Why was she even there? There were so many questions she couldn’t even begin to answer, and she shuddered as she gripped the back of Marvel’s shirt in her hands. If only Katniss hadn’t been sent back! She could be rescued with her, and they could live together wherever they landed. “I don’t know,” Prim began before she hiccuped. “Who I’d live with?” The train people were nice, but they had their own lives, and of the ones that were surely going to stay, she couldn’t see any of them really wanting to put her up. Lily might, but Lily’d probably want to live with Jaime. She didn’t know either if the place would have arrangements for underage passengers. It was too much to deal with, and she pressed her cheek against Marvel’s shoulder, clinging to him like she would have clung to Gale if she needed comfort. ______ “You can live with me,” he replied without really thinking it through. He didn’t think it would be that big of a deal, though. He didn’t have anyone to live with -- if Lily stayed, it would most likely be because Don did which meant she’d be living with him. He selfishly hoped Lily did stay, if only because they were close, but he understood she had a lot of family back home. Anyway, he got on all right with Prim and she didn’t seem like she’d be difficult to live with. Not only that, but she was one of the few people left from Panem and they might as well stick together. He didn’t know Ice that well, but she was at least an adult. It was strange to think they were the only three left. “If you want,” he added with a slight shrug of the shoulder she wasn’t resting her cheek against. ________ Prim laughed, because the thought struck her as completely absurd in one sense, but utterly logical in another. Why shouldn’t she live with the boy her sister had killed? “I guess we can s-see what it’s like,” she managed around a hitching sob and another hiccup. She was sure things would work out however they were meant to. Lifting her head slightly, Prim gazed out the window, but she didn’t want to see anymore. There was nothing but strife and tragedy there. “I want to go back to my room,” she decided, though she didn’t yet make any motion to unwind herself from him. She would though, in a minute. When she felt a little more stable. Wiping away the tears that had streaked her cheeks, Prim gazed at him. She wasn’t sure why he’d care about her, but she wasn’t inclined to protest it. ______________ He briefly wondered if he should be offended that she’d laughed, but it didn’t strike him as malicious laughter and when he really thought about it, he could come up with plenty of reasons inviting her to live with him might be funny. He’d often enough considered that he might have faced her in the arena if her sister hadn’t volunteered to take her place. Though he wasn’t sure she would have made it past the first bloodbath. Shaking those thoughts away, he nodded in response to her words. “I’ll walk you,” he offered, only because she might want the company or distraction from the windows she passed along the way. He was content enough to hold her until she was ready to go, though. _________ Prim clung a moment or so longer to Marvel before she had herself stable enough to move. She pushed herself slowly to her feet, using him for support and very pointedly not looking out the window. There couldn’t be anything out there she’d want to see. Just fighting. Death. Violence. Destruction. Keeping her eyes pointed away from the windows and toward the floor, she reached out for Marvel’s hand. “Thank you,” she said as she lifted her dark blue eyes to regard him. “For … for stopping, and everything else.” She sniffled again, wiping at her cheeks with her free hand. _____________ Marvel had briefly planned on telling her not to look out the window, but it seemed like she’d figured that bit out for herself and anyway, he knew from experience that sometimes not looking was easier said than done. A part of him was curious as to how she’d died, but he wasn’t going to ask, not right now, not when it had caused her to fall onto the floor sobbing. He was a little surprised when she reached for his hand, but... why not? “No problem,” he replied with a slight shrug, offering her a little smile. However things went when they got rescued -- which was hopefully soon -- he thought he would at least try to keep an eye on her. There was hardly anyone left to judge him for it, anyway. |