Fic: Tick Tock
Title: Tick Tock
Fandom: The Hunger Games
Pairing: Katniss/Peeta, gen
Rating: PG-13/R
Warnings: canon typical violence, oc focus, character death, general unpleasantness
Notes: reading over Victor made me want to write more about Markis, and it’s hard to write Markis without writing Pepper, the woman who made sure he survived. So now we have the nonlinear story of Markis, Victor of the 76th Hunger Games. Takes place during “Victor”. For the h/c bingo prompt “job related trauma”… for a loose definition of “job”.
Summary: He has to keep the time.
“Keep your eye on the time,” Pepper tells him, while Donner packs their gear and looks over their weapons. “It’s very important that we know what time it is. Can you do that for me, baby?”
Markis nods. He tries not to cry, not to be a baby, but it’s hard. The forest is full of screams, and there’s a streak of blood as wide as his fist on Pepper’s face.
“It’ll be okay,” Pepper says. Her smile is wobbly; she’s trying not to cry as much as he is. “There are only six people here now; so long as we stay away from the other three, we’ll be just fine.”
She kisses his forehead like his mom. The blood is sticky.
Then she stands him up and makes sure he has the watch clutched tight in his fist.
Peeta sits by Markis on the sofa. “We’re going to the Capitol tomorrow,” he says. It’s always Peeta who brings this news; Katniss can’t bring herself to.
“Haymitch will be here, and Katniss’s family. It’s only for a little while; when the Games are over we’ll be back, and then we’ll do something together. Anything you want.”
Markis doesn’t say anything. He’s staring off into space; Peeta wonders whether he’s eaten yet.
“I’ll cook before we go.” He can’t help himself, filling in the silence with as many words as he can. “We’ll eat a big dinner before the reaping, and the rest Mrs. Everdeen can reheat while we’re gone. My father might stop by; maybe he’ll bring you something? Or he could bring one of my nephews along; you like them.”
Markis says nothing. He rarely does.
“Where did you get it?” Markis asks, putting his face close to that of the watch. Its face is huge, and so are its numbers.
“It was my mother’s,” Pepper says. She pulls him into her lap, ignoring Effie’s disapproving face. She pushes her plate back so she can rest her arms on the table. “It’s been in my family for a long time. It’s very special.”
An Avox takes the plate away. Markis shies away from them, but Pepper rubs his back. “Do you have anything from home?”
Markis shakes his head. “I wish I did. I miss everyone.”
“You’ll see them again,” Pepper says. Her smile is big and warm. Markis misses his mother desperately, but Pepper makes it easier. She smiles when the Avox brings hot chocolate and offers to share it with him.
When he has a nightmare, he sneaks into her room, and she hugs him and rocks him until he’s ready to slip back into sleep. “Everything will be just fine,” she says, so soft he can barely hear her. “I’ll take care of you. I promise.”
Katniss watches the interview replays from previous years. She watches all the replays, trying to get even the smallest scrap of information she can use.
She almost turns off the television when Markis wanders in. He ghosts past her, up and down the stairs and in and out of the kitchen, until finally she says “Peeta isn’t here.”
She sits him on the couch next to her.
He’s a mess. He probably rolled out of bed and wandered over, up to his knees in snow. She gets him a blanket and starts brushing his hair into order, the bulk of her attention on the television.
She bites the inside of her cheek when last year’s tributes show up. Maybe whatever world Markis is in will keep him from reacting to familiar faces.
Each interview is spliced together with family reactions and scenes from the actual games. Markis, as the victor, gets the most focus. Katniss waits for the meltdown, but she doesn’t get it ‘til the end. They play an edited version of his victory interview. He’s made up like some little angel, soft whites and blues that make him look even younger than he already is.
“I have to keep the time,” the wispy boy on the television says. “She told me to keep the time.”
It’s starts small, with rocking and short panicky breaths, and then he’s screaming and sobbing. Katniss turns the television off.
Markis doesn’t really calm down until Peeta comes home. He passes out at one point, slumped in Katniss’s arms, and she doesn’t know what to do for him other than hold on.
When Peeta comes in, he’s in his own little world, eyes wide and puffy and streaming tears. He doesn’t respond when Peeta calls his name.
“He’ll be okay in a while,” Katniss says.
He always is, eventually.
Pepper applauds him when he climbs back down. “Good job! You’re better at this than I am!”
“Am not!” Markis says, but he’s proud anyway. He’s been working really hard at climbing.
Across the room, Donner meets his eyes. Markis waves at him. Donner comes over; Pepper glances at him side-long.
“Why don’t you try knot tying,” Pepper suggests.
“Will you come too?”
Pepper shakes his head. “I’ll practice my climbing a little more. We can meet at the fire-making station, though, okay?”
Markis nods and jogs away. When he turns back, Donner and Pepper are talking with their heads close together. When he asks about it later, Pepper grins at him. “Donner wants to be our friend. Isn’t that nice of him?”
Katniss says “allies” and Pepper says “friends”. Peeta just says it’s good news.
“I don’t think Donner will hurt you,” Peeta says to both of them over dinner. “It’s good to have allies. He’s not in perfect shape but he’s strong, and he seems pretty straightforward.”
“So is Donner my friend like Pepper’s my friend?”
Peeta scrunched up his face while he thought of an explanation. “Donner’s your friend like Effie’s your friend.”
Markis nodded. He liked having friends.
“You’re too old for this,” Katniss says when she sees a too-thin teen hunched over her kitchen table again. “How do you keep getting in?”
“I leave the door open for him,” Peeta says from the stairs. “I don’t want him to sit outside all night.”
“He has his own house,” Katniss says. She runs her fingers through his hair, trying to make him at least a little presentable.
“Maybe he should move in with us,” Peeta says. He’s already starting on breakfast. He gets down three plates without the slightest hint of hesitation. “Will you get him to drink some milk?”
It’s like having a child, without the terrible likelihood of losing him to the Games: he was already lost when they got him. Sometimes Katniss would rather kick him out and lock the door, pretend he doesn’t exist, give up on him. Instead, she tells him to drink his milk.
“Nick and Shevana are mentoring,” she says while she eats. “I don’t feel like being in the Capitol this year.”
“How will they do on sponsors?”
“Well enough; Shevana has a way with people. And they’ll have Haymitch.”
Katniss knows as she’s saying it that she’ll probably change her mind after the reaping, when she actually sees who’s on the block this year. Peeta knows it to.
It feels good to say it though, say she’s taking a year away from it all like some of the Victors in the other districts do. Every time she talks she can hear the creeping shadow of the Capitol in her voice, in the way she shapes her words. It’s getting harder and harder to turn it off.
“It’ll be okay,” Peeta says, and he’s talking about more than today’s reaping or their careful refusal to reproduce.
He’s talking about everything. Katniss wishes she could believe him.
“Eight,” Donner says when they’re in the relative safety of the trees. Pepper nods, shushing Markis as he cries into her shoulder. The hand not supporting him grips an axe. The blood on it belongs to the same man that almost killed Markis in the chaos at the cornucopia.
They’re okay now. That’s what Pepper keeps saying, “We’re okay,” as if the killing is over for good and he’ll never have to see it again. She’s covered in sand a sweat and blood, but she’s alive, and Markis is alive and Donner is alive, and so far they’re okay.
Markis never saw a dead body in person before, never felt blood seep into his shirt. Pepper says “It’s okay, we’ll wash off in the water later.” She grips his hand so tight it hurts and wipes the tears from his face. “We have to walk now, okay? Just a little bit more, until we find someplace safe to sleep.” She kisses his cheek roughly, squeezes him tight when she hugs him. She has a backpack that Donner grabbed. Markis doesn’t know what’s in it, but Donner’s bag has a canteen and a little bit of food.
“Let’s get walking, kiddo.” Donner takes the lead and Pepper and Markis follow him. Pepper’s squeezing his hand and he squeezes back, sniffling and wiping his nose on his sleeve. He wants to go home. He wants to go home.
“Just sit still,” Peeta whispers as they settle into their seats. “It’ll be over in a little while.”
On Markis’s other side, Lilly sits stiff as a post, staring straight ahead. Haymitch steals a drink from his flask before Harper can stop him. Peeta hopes he doesn’t embarrass them again.
Katniss touches Peeta’s arm and he faces forward.
“Happy Hunger Games,” Effie says, and she’s genuinely excited to be in District Twelve, Panem’s rising star. “And may the odds be ever in your favor.”
Fandom: The Hunger Games
Pairing: Katniss/Peeta, gen
Rating: PG-13/R
Warnings: canon typical violence, oc focus, character death, general unpleasantness
Notes: reading over Victor made me want to write more about Markis, and it’s hard to write Markis without writing Pepper, the woman who made sure he survived. So now we have the nonlinear story of Markis, Victor of the 76th Hunger Games. Takes place during “Victor”. For the h/c bingo prompt “job related trauma”… for a loose definition of “job”.
Summary: He has to keep the time.
“Keep your eye on the time,” Pepper tells him, while Donner packs their gear and looks over their weapons. “It’s very important that we know what time it is. Can you do that for me, baby?”
Markis nods. He tries not to cry, not to be a baby, but it’s hard. The forest is full of screams, and there’s a streak of blood as wide as his fist on Pepper’s face.
“It’ll be okay,” Pepper says. Her smile is wobbly; she’s trying not to cry as much as he is. “There are only six people here now; so long as we stay away from the other three, we’ll be just fine.”
She kisses his forehead like his mom. The blood is sticky.
Then she stands him up and makes sure he has the watch clutched tight in his fist.
Peeta sits by Markis on the sofa. “We’re going to the Capitol tomorrow,” he says. It’s always Peeta who brings this news; Katniss can’t bring herself to.
“Haymitch will be here, and Katniss’s family. It’s only for a little while; when the Games are over we’ll be back, and then we’ll do something together. Anything you want.”
Markis doesn’t say anything. He’s staring off into space; Peeta wonders whether he’s eaten yet.
“I’ll cook before we go.” He can’t help himself, filling in the silence with as many words as he can. “We’ll eat a big dinner before the reaping, and the rest Mrs. Everdeen can reheat while we’re gone. My father might stop by; maybe he’ll bring you something? Or he could bring one of my nephews along; you like them.”
Markis says nothing. He rarely does.
“Where did you get it?” Markis asks, putting his face close to that of the watch. Its face is huge, and so are its numbers.
“It was my mother’s,” Pepper says. She pulls him into her lap, ignoring Effie’s disapproving face. She pushes her plate back so she can rest her arms on the table. “It’s been in my family for a long time. It’s very special.”
An Avox takes the plate away. Markis shies away from them, but Pepper rubs his back. “Do you have anything from home?”
Markis shakes his head. “I wish I did. I miss everyone.”
“You’ll see them again,” Pepper says. Her smile is big and warm. Markis misses his mother desperately, but Pepper makes it easier. She smiles when the Avox brings hot chocolate and offers to share it with him.
When he has a nightmare, he sneaks into her room, and she hugs him and rocks him until he’s ready to slip back into sleep. “Everything will be just fine,” she says, so soft he can barely hear her. “I’ll take care of you. I promise.”
Katniss watches the interview replays from previous years. She watches all the replays, trying to get even the smallest scrap of information she can use.
She almost turns off the television when Markis wanders in. He ghosts past her, up and down the stairs and in and out of the kitchen, until finally she says “Peeta isn’t here.”
She sits him on the couch next to her.
He’s a mess. He probably rolled out of bed and wandered over, up to his knees in snow. She gets him a blanket and starts brushing his hair into order, the bulk of her attention on the television.
She bites the inside of her cheek when last year’s tributes show up. Maybe whatever world Markis is in will keep him from reacting to familiar faces.
Each interview is spliced together with family reactions and scenes from the actual games. Markis, as the victor, gets the most focus. Katniss waits for the meltdown, but she doesn’t get it ‘til the end. They play an edited version of his victory interview. He’s made up like some little angel, soft whites and blues that make him look even younger than he already is.
“I have to keep the time,” the wispy boy on the television says. “She told me to keep the time.”
It’s starts small, with rocking and short panicky breaths, and then he’s screaming and sobbing. Katniss turns the television off.
Markis doesn’t really calm down until Peeta comes home. He passes out at one point, slumped in Katniss’s arms, and she doesn’t know what to do for him other than hold on.
When Peeta comes in, he’s in his own little world, eyes wide and puffy and streaming tears. He doesn’t respond when Peeta calls his name.
“He’ll be okay in a while,” Katniss says.
He always is, eventually.
Pepper applauds him when he climbs back down. “Good job! You’re better at this than I am!”
“Am not!” Markis says, but he’s proud anyway. He’s been working really hard at climbing.
Across the room, Donner meets his eyes. Markis waves at him. Donner comes over; Pepper glances at him side-long.
“Why don’t you try knot tying,” Pepper suggests.
“Will you come too?”
Pepper shakes his head. “I’ll practice my climbing a little more. We can meet at the fire-making station, though, okay?”
Markis nods and jogs away. When he turns back, Donner and Pepper are talking with their heads close together. When he asks about it later, Pepper grins at him. “Donner wants to be our friend. Isn’t that nice of him?”
Katniss says “allies” and Pepper says “friends”. Peeta just says it’s good news.
“I don’t think Donner will hurt you,” Peeta says to both of them over dinner. “It’s good to have allies. He’s not in perfect shape but he’s strong, and he seems pretty straightforward.”
“So is Donner my friend like Pepper’s my friend?”
Peeta scrunched up his face while he thought of an explanation. “Donner’s your friend like Effie’s your friend.”
Markis nodded. He liked having friends.
“You’re too old for this,” Katniss says when she sees a too-thin teen hunched over her kitchen table again. “How do you keep getting in?”
“I leave the door open for him,” Peeta says from the stairs. “I don’t want him to sit outside all night.”
“He has his own house,” Katniss says. She runs her fingers through his hair, trying to make him at least a little presentable.
“Maybe he should move in with us,” Peeta says. He’s already starting on breakfast. He gets down three plates without the slightest hint of hesitation. “Will you get him to drink some milk?”
It’s like having a child, without the terrible likelihood of losing him to the Games: he was already lost when they got him. Sometimes Katniss would rather kick him out and lock the door, pretend he doesn’t exist, give up on him. Instead, she tells him to drink his milk.
“Nick and Shevana are mentoring,” she says while she eats. “I don’t feel like being in the Capitol this year.”
“How will they do on sponsors?”
“Well enough; Shevana has a way with people. And they’ll have Haymitch.”
Katniss knows as she’s saying it that she’ll probably change her mind after the reaping, when she actually sees who’s on the block this year. Peeta knows it to.
It feels good to say it though, say she’s taking a year away from it all like some of the Victors in the other districts do. Every time she talks she can hear the creeping shadow of the Capitol in her voice, in the way she shapes her words. It’s getting harder and harder to turn it off.
“It’ll be okay,” Peeta says, and he’s talking about more than today’s reaping or their careful refusal to reproduce.
He’s talking about everything. Katniss wishes she could believe him.
“Eight,” Donner says when they’re in the relative safety of the trees. Pepper nods, shushing Markis as he cries into her shoulder. The hand not supporting him grips an axe. The blood on it belongs to the same man that almost killed Markis in the chaos at the cornucopia.
They’re okay now. That’s what Pepper keeps saying, “We’re okay,” as if the killing is over for good and he’ll never have to see it again. She’s covered in sand a sweat and blood, but she’s alive, and Markis is alive and Donner is alive, and so far they’re okay.
Markis never saw a dead body in person before, never felt blood seep into his shirt. Pepper says “It’s okay, we’ll wash off in the water later.” She grips his hand so tight it hurts and wipes the tears from his face. “We have to walk now, okay? Just a little bit more, until we find someplace safe to sleep.” She kisses his cheek roughly, squeezes him tight when she hugs him. She has a backpack that Donner grabbed. Markis doesn’t know what’s in it, but Donner’s bag has a canteen and a little bit of food.
“Let’s get walking, kiddo.” Donner takes the lead and Pepper and Markis follow him. Pepper’s squeezing his hand and he squeezes back, sniffling and wiping his nose on his sleeve. He wants to go home. He wants to go home.
“Just sit still,” Peeta whispers as they settle into their seats. “It’ll be over in a little while.”
On Markis’s other side, Lilly sits stiff as a post, staring straight ahead. Haymitch steals a drink from his flask before Harper can stop him. Peeta hopes he doesn’t embarrass them again.
Katniss touches Peeta’s arm and he faces forward.
“Happy Hunger Games,” Effie says, and she’s genuinely excited to be in District Twelve, Panem’s rising star. “And may the odds be ever in your favor.”