Living Lies ✜ Hunger Games x Reader

Hellos and Goodbyes

Well, I cried, but that might just be me. Let me know if the river flowed tonight, I'm quite curious (and I don't want to be the only one). It's more emotional if you listen to the song or the instrumental version, trust me.

Marvel never saw the knife coming.

His back turned, fleeing like the coward he was. He never knew. A knife to the back. You'd never have that satisfaction of knowing he knew that it was you who killed him.

And out of revenge—not spite, or to add to your kill list. He deserved it. More than Rue ever would deserve what he did to her.

At first, everything moved slowly. Time stopped. Your brain refused to function—let alone process what you just saw. Your vision fazed, you blinked, one good ear seemed to tune out everything but Rue's voice, repeated and desperate. Your hands quivered. You dropped your remaining knives. A few quick and staggering steps were taken towards Rue before your knees refused to do their job. Everything failed you.

Then time restarted. Your brain went into alert mode, your vision sharpened, you heard everything, all at once; a sponge desperately grasping for every drop of water it can reach. Your faltering arms reached out to support Rue as her own body failed her, for physical reasons only. And when your legs collapsed beneath you, they did so slowly, lowering their gentle burden to the ground.

"Rue," you lay the young girl's head on your lap, softly brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Rue, were there anymore?" You felt guilty, that being the first question you asked, but what else was there to say?

"N—no," Rue gasps out, taking her hands off of the spear, and grabbing your hand to hold onto, her eyes beginning to glisten.

You squeeze her hand, and touch the spear lightly, retracting your hand immediately. With a start anger and fear, you realize the spear will not come out of her body—it's projected too far in to be removed. Rue must have realized this before you. You feel your own tears begin to well inside your eyes as the reality hits. You never could have saved her, not the way the Careers had planned it. Ensured it.

It makes the loss that much more bitter.

Rue lets out another gasp of air, followed by a quiet sob. You sniff, watching her summon together a breath to speak, breaking your heart. "Promise me you'll win," she rasps out, "You have to win."

"For the both of us." A tear slips out of your eye without permission, running down your dried blood stained cheek. Just then, Marvel's canon goes off, reminding you of how soon Rue's will. How soon her life will end. Too soon.

"Don't worry, I'm staying right here," you whisper, bringing her hand up to your face, feeling the quickening chill of death seeping into Rue's body. "Right here."

"Can you—" Rue pauses, choking out a sob, wincing as she does so. With every heart beat, more blood escapes her body, more time is lost. "Sing?" she asks weakly.

At first, you lose your words. Katniss always sang. You'd sing with her. Her voice would drown yours out, and she'd insist you should sing louder—she said she loved your voice. Oh the song she used to sing—for Prim, that you often heard your mother sing to your own father. It's haunting melody. This time there's nobody to drown you out when it matters most. You sing the song that soothes you the most.

"Deep in the meadow, under the willow," you hear your own used voice crack at the happy and sad memories, and the now. "A bit of grass, a soft green pillow. Lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes. And when again they open, the sun will rise."

You can feel the grip loosening on your hand, urging you to continue singing the song. Rue's sobs lessen, the bleeding starts to slow, yet you continue singing. You can feel from the slowing of her heartbeat, she's still listening. You don't dare look. You want the last image you see of Rue alive is her head in your arms, not watching her die.