3What if Katniss and Peeta died in the Arena, and a revolution never happened? Who would look after Prim? Especially at next year's Reaping. Not what you're expecting. Oneshot.
Prologue.
Katniss was screaming. Not with pain, not from physical pain anyway. Grief. It was like being stabbed through the heart. Repeatedly. First Rue, now Peeta. She had been powerless to help as the infection slowly claimed his body, and then, finally, his life. Katniss had stayed with him and held his hand until his heart beat its final beat. She stayed with him until the cannon went off, signalling his death. And beyond. She only left him when she could bear it no longer. As she stood, empty, in the middle of the river, a thought struck her. The person who killed Peeta was still out there. And still with his friend.
"I will avenge you, Peeta." She swore softly, to herself, amid the rushing of the water. "Even if it is the last that I do."
And it was.
Clove had been easy to kill. An arrow straight through the eye, just like any of the animals she had killed back in 12. It was easy. Too easy.
Cato had snuck up behind her, but Katniss had allowed it. Had wanted to see the look on his face before she killed him. Not like the way he had killed Peeta, she didn't have time for that. No, she knew she would be killed by him, she just wanted to take him with her.
Katniss knew now that she couldn't win. Couldn't keep her promise to Prim, or to Rue. But she could do something about the last one. Once she and Cato were dead, Thresh would be the victor. She could at least give one of District 11's children back to them. Yes, she could do that. In a way honouring her vow to Rue. Prim, that would be her only regret. At least she had the comfort of knowing that Gale would look after her. Wouldn't let her starve.
Oh yes, she could die if that were to be the outcome.
One year later
"First, the girls." Effie Trinket's voice echoed strangely around District 12's town square. She put her hand into the bowl and quickly plucked out a slip of paper. Effie opened it out, and immediately paled. Well, she did, though if anyone could see it from under all that makeup, it would've been a miracle.
"Primrose Everdeen."
A shocked silence fell over the already hushed crowd. Prim as white as a ghost. Surely it was impossible. What were the odds? No one had ever been picked twice before. Those were all the thoughts running through everyone's mind.
After what seemed like forever, she began to walk up to the podium, her feet on the floor, the only sound. After she reached the podium, Effie put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, as if there were anything she could do to help.
Effie completed the ceremony by asking for volunteers. She was greeted only by deafening silence. She left it as long as she could before sighing and slowly walking over to the bowl where the boys names were.
"Stop!" A feeble voice cried out. Everyone turned around and stared. A young girl, relying heavily on crutches was limping from the back, up to the podium. "I volunteer."
"Is there a reason why your name is Hope?" Caesar Flickerman asked the young girl.
"My mother said that even though I was born with a disadvantage, my refusal to give up life, gave her inspiration for my name."
"So why did you volunteer?" Caesar Flickerman asked Hope.
"For two reasons. One, because I did not wish for Katniss Everdeen's sacrifice to have been in vain, and I decided it should be me because, well, who would miss an orphaned cripple? Also, I knew of Prim, and you couldn't find a kinder soul anywhere in this God forsaken world."
A moment of silence followed, but Caesar quickly recovered. "Well, I think I speak for everyone when I wish you good luck."
Hope didn't last long. In fact, she didn't make it to the Hunger Games properly. Once the countdown started, she took a deep breath and stepped off her podium. BANG! There was no coming back from something like that.
It was her death that sparked the revolution. Her sacrifice, for Prim and all the other tributes, so that their souls wouldn't be forever stained with her murder.
However, it wasn't until the year after that, that the revolution really kicked off. Prim had been reaped, yet again. This time, no one volunteered for her.
Prim stood alone, after the initial bloodbath. No one was coming to save her, not this time.
Only, a hovercraft appeared overhead at that point. A claw appeared from it, and grabbed Prim.
A/N: This could be a longer work, but it is probably going to stay a oneshot. The revolution would ultimately be the same, with Snow overcome, but obviously with different characters.
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