She looked around, dazed, unsure of where she was. Her last moments had been such a blur. She didn't know what happened to her, where she was, she wasn't even sure what day it was.
Tucked safely into her arm was the little bunny doll she had been working so hard to find, even though she hadn't remembered finding it. The little bunny was just as she remembered it, and she was relieved that it was safe. She looked around the room. It was bright and cheerful, warm and cozy. It wasn't the Arena. She wasn't sure where she had wandered to. She began to think she might have teleported. She had just been running, her mind in a haze, when a bright flash stunned her. After an explosion of pain, she woke up here.
The realization of what happened came slowly, but painfully.
She had lost. She was dead.
Karima was sad, but at the same time there was this warm, calm feeling that washed over her as she sat up. It was as if she'd acquired a sixth sense and could feel the peace of those down there in Panem that were thinking about her up here. She'd let them down. She'd fallen. She wasn't the best. She sighed as she stood up slowly. When she did, she felt the wings that stretched gracefully as she stretched her arms. It was a surreal feeling, but far from unwelcome.
Shyly, Karima snuck out of the room and into the great beyond. She wasn't sure who she would find there, or what she would see, but the curiosity was too much. She saw other people, beautiful people with large, white, soft, graceful wings, gliding along and greeting each other, without a care in the world. She snuck out of the room, looking for any familiar faces.
"Karima?" She looked up and saw Wren from 12 coming towards her, and felt happy to see someone familiar. The 12 girl enveloped the 15-year-old in a hug even though they'd barely talked. The girls understood each other, ultimately, and both needed support in this time. It was tough, leaving the world, leaving friends and family, especially leaving so young and so suddenly. Karima missed her parents, her poor grandmother, and, of course, Ferris, who surely wouldn't fare well without her. She was worried about him, ultimately. Even though she tried everything to show him up, she still cared about him. He was her best friend. He was thinking about her, probably wondering what he would do without her. Wren let her go and went back to Serafina Anya, who was watching quietly, not sure what to say to Karima.
"It gets easier," Wren said quietly, and Karima nodded, swallowing a lump in her throat.
"Okay."
"I know it's hard," she said quietly. "But peace will come." She looked up to where Felicity was running freely, the little wisp of a girl running beside her mother.
Karima nodded, taking a deep breath.
Peace will come someday. She hoped that it was someday soon.
~.~.
District 12's Leo Aslan opened his eyes.
He immediately knew what he had done. He remembered everything that happened, the scene played before his eyes, almost as if it was on a loop. He had given up his chance. He was dead.
He took a deep breath. He wasn't sure what he had been expecting death to be like. It was both quicker and slower than he imagined it would be. It was over. He was dead. It was such a weird realization. Leo stood up slowly, adjusting to the light. The room was warm and comfortable, but that didn't eliminate the sadness that he'd just lost his chance.
He hated the Hunger Games. He hated them so much.
Leo thought about his family and felt even worse. They were thinking about him, more than ever. Were they mad at him for what he'd done?
He was sure his mother was an emotional wreck. She was usually alright at putting on a happy face, but now she would need some time to grieve and realize what was happening. His father would work, work away the pain, repaying favors to those that he owed. Leo hoped he was proud, even if he was upset. He knew that Dereck, despite his layers of chattering and joking, would be upset about this. Of everyone, he was the most likely to be angry. Leo knew his brother. He knew that Dereck wouldn't understand why he did what he did. He knew that Dereck would be angry and upset, mad at him for what he did. He would be angry, and call Leo selfish, for leaving the family in a time that they needed him, for throwing away his chance to make it home. Leo wasn't stupid, he knew his family was depending on him. He knew what he was doing when he did it. He knew that Dereck especially would be angry, that if Leo came home a Victor, they wouldn't have had to worry about a single thing ever again, their father wouldn't have to work so hard, their mother wouldn't have to spend the rest of her days worried and crying, things would have been perfect, they wouldn't have had a single problem or care.
And he was here on his own accord.
Surely Albus would understand. Even if nobody else did, sure Albus would understand why he couldn't let Cory die. Surely, even if he didn't agree, he'd understand. Maybe he'd be able to explain it to Dereck. Even if he couldn't, Leo didn't care. He just hoped that Albus would understand. He hoped that Albus didn't assume that Leo didn't love him because of what he did. Leo loved Albus, and his entire family, so much. It wasn't because of them that he chose to give up his chance. It was Leo's decision.
Rebecca was the last one. She still hadn't been given the Games talk, but now that Leo was dead, she was going to have to. She would have figured it out for herself later, anyways. She probably wouldn't really understand what he did, especially because she wasn't going to be allowed to watch it for a while. Surely his parents wouldn't do that to her. Surely not.
He wondered what she might think of him when she got older and watched for herself. He only hoped that she'd be proud of him.
Leo got to his feet and took a deep breath. He knew that he was being thought about, by his family and Cory, and the crowd that was impressed with what he'd done. He slowly exited the room into the great beyond, hoping that his ally had what it took to win, and maybe even take care of the ones that he loved.
~.~.
District 5's Hamilton Rayce blinked blearily.
So, this was the afterlife. It felt... Strange.
Hamilton took a deep breath and got up on his feet. He felt different, yet not different. He jumped when he felt the growths on his shoulders, and when he reached up felt the softest, warmest wings he could have ever imagined. He was excited, but also nervous. He took a deep breath and started walking.
He hadn't proven himself. Jackson would forever be on his high horse. He would never realize that he was mortal, that he wasn't all that great. Hamilton didn't miss him, and assumed that Jackson wouldn't miss him either. He would miss his mother, and felt bad for leaving her, but he didn't care about his father, or his brother. Of course he would miss Millie and Albert, both of whom were thinking about him a lot. He felt horrible that he didn't have what it took to get back to them. However, there was one burning question in his mind, and he had to get it answered as soon as he could. Hamilton stepped out of the warm, welcoming room, and quickly searched for any half-familiar face that could tell him if Cyra was okay.
"Hamilton!" he heard a familiar voice, and saw Ductor coming at him, full speed. He practically tackled his ally and friend in a tight hug, and Hamilton felt Ductor's warm, feathery wings wrap around him. He hugged his friend back, glad to see him, as tears pooled into his eyes.
"Cyra's alone out there," he hiccuped. "I didn't mean to-"
"It's alright," Ductor said quietly. "She can handle it. You can't change it now." His voice and breathing were calm and steady, and Hamilton focused on the comfort of being reuinted with a friend instead of the pain and heartbreak of those he left behind. It was easier said than done, of course, and Hamilton's eyes leaked tears that slid gently down his cheeks. Being away from them hurt, knowing that he wasn't good enough hurt, knowing that people would totally glaze over him, never bothering to care about that random little boy that died early on in one of 84 Games, each with 23 tributes that were dead just like him... God, it was hard.
"It's nice here," Ductor said quietly, but heknew it was no real consolation, no real comfort. Hamilton appreciated his friend trying, though, and did his best to control his tears. He felt calm and peaceful though the ache of being apart from everyone he loved was still present in his gut.
"It hurts," Hamilton said quietly, crying. "It's not fair."
"I know," Ductor whispered, still holding him close. Ductor knew that it was best to just let Hamilton come to acceptance with his fate. He had been through all the stages of grief at being separated from his friends and family.
"Can we see Cyra?" Hamilton asked, once he was able to control his tears enough to speak.
"If you really want to, yes," Ductor said, letting Hamilton go slowly but still staying close to him. "I can take you there, if you want. But... Maybe you should give it some time."
"What else is there to do?" Hamilton asked. He had never considered the afterlife a possibility, and soon his sadness gave way to pure, untinted curiosity.
"Lots of things," Ductor said, his lips forming a smile. "Come with me, and I'll show you!"
Ductor started off, and Hamilton quickly followed his friend.
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