Chapter Text
Step. Jab jab. Retreat. Slip slip roll. Reset.
Again.
Calliope pushed herself through her combos again, shadow boxing by herself in her family’s gym. The session was unusually light work. No heavy weights, no high intensity cardio, no knockdown, drag out sparring. Just something to mentally center herself. Since it was potentially the last day of an ordinary life for her.
She’d had almost eighteen years to prepare and yet, the looming threat of Reaping Day left her feeling unmoored.
She could be a tribute by tomorrow. And a victor by the end of the month. It was what she wanted. Or at least, what everyone wanted for her. What they expected from her.
But Cal, she was less sure.
Not that she had told anyone that. She was from District 2. A district with a proud history of victors. Even more importantly: she was a Burns. A family full of victors. Literally. Except for her. She was an outsider in her own family. The pressure to perform was…immense.
Step. Jab jab. Retreat. Slip-
“Practice all you want. We already know who's the best Burns, stick.”
Her brother loped down the stairs into the gym space. He had a teasing smirk on his lips, like he always did when he poked fun at Calliope.
“I told you, don’t call me that.” Cal sighed.
He laughed, dancing around her. He mimed throwing punches at her but she didn’t flinch. Too many years of practice.
“What do you want?”
“Can’t I just check on my baby sis?”
Cal gave him an unimpressed look.
“Look,” he scratched the back of his neck, unusually nervous. “I just wanted to see if you wanted to go visit Theo?” The one last time went unsaid.
“Apollo, I-”
“Cal?” Footsteps thundered down the basement stairs, startling the siblings. “Calliope! Are you down here?”
“Yeah, dad!” She stepped into view of the stairs. “What’s up?”
He glanced between her and Apollo unaware of the conversation he interrupted. “Apollo, let me talk to you sister?”
He nodded. “Sure, Pops. Cal,” he turned to his sister as he backed out of the basement, “let me know?”
Cal just nodded.
Jack Burns stepped forward and put both hands on his daughter's shoulder.
“So, about tomorrow,” he started and Cal winced. She did not want to have this conversation with him. She loved her dad. But he was like the victor of victors. He didn’t want to hear that she was feeling less than confident. Just that she was ready to potentially uphold the Burns legacy.
“It’s all good, dad. I’m ready.” She forced a confident smile and stepped away to take off her gloves and wraps.
“Yeah?” he asked. She just hummed in response. “Right,” he nodded. “Of course you are. You’re a Burns, baby girl.” His voice oozed with pride.
“Alright. Well, your mom is making all your favorites tonight. So, be back on time.” He started up the stairs. “Oh, and Cal?”
“Yeah?” she looked up from her hands.
“Whatever trouble you’re about to get into with Apollo? Don’t.”
Cal just laughed.
-----
In the days leading up to Reaping Day, District 2 held a week-long festival in preparation. The official reasoning was to “remember the grace and generosity of the Capitol and celebrate the strength of past victors to inspire the next class of tributes”. For most kids her age it just meant a school-free week of leisure. Full of good food, interesting vendors, and street shows among other things.
Memories of her earliest festivals, before she was eligible for reaping, still made warmth blossom in her chests. Time spent chasing her brothers wherever they went. Sticky fingers and full bellies from indulging on all the delicious food the festival had to offer. And warm cuddles as she fell asleep nestled in her father’s arms, never quite being able to stay awake till the late night firework shows.
Things changed as she got older, wanting her own bit of freedom to explore on her own. Especially after her brothers became victors. The urge to spend these festival days focused on weapons and training. To prove she could live up to the Burns legacy too. To be a confident fighter like Apollo. And like Theo…
But those memories hurt too much now.
Cal shook the thoughts from her head. She had wandered with no destination but found herself in front of a crowded weapons stall. Her eyes were drawn to a spear made from a beautiful dark wood. It had gold filigree laid into the wood in intricate patterns that crawled along the body like vines.
She moved to pick up the weapon and give it a closer examination but someone knocked into her back.
"What the hell?" She whipped around.
"My bad, C," A familiar voice greeted her.
“Tess?” Cal laughed in disbelief as the other girl dragged her into a hug. “I didn’t know Peacekeepers got granted leave,” she joked.
Tess Franklin had been her best friend for as long as she could remember. One year older and almost even more headstrong than her.
“Yeah, well you know I had to come back and see my best girl before she became a victor.” Tess grinned and Cal just rolled her eyes good naturedly.
And that. They weren’t exactly “something”. But they had been more than nothing. But unsurprisingly the constant threat of being reaped tended to put a damper on young love.
Cal shrugged, “Fingers crossed, right?”
“Hey,” Tess stepped in close to Cal. She gripped her fingers lightly. “Everything good with you?”
“Yeah, of course. I just,” she shook her head. “Nevermind.”
“No, say it.”
Cal stared at Tess. She was her best friend. But still. Careers, and especially Careers named Burns, shouldn’t feel doubts about competing in the Games.
“It’s nothing. I have to visit Theo.” Cal pulled her hand away. “But I’ll see you tomorrow?”
Tess gave her a hard stare in return but ultimately let the subject drop. "Right," she stepped back, straightening up. "See you tomorrow.”
-----
“Hey Theo.”
Cal knelt down, placing flowers at the base of the grave. The granite headstone had been recently polished. The flowers from her last visit were gone, no doubt collected by the groundskeeper once they had wilted.
Theo was buried in a private cemetery restricted to District 2 victors. He’d won his games eleven years ago at fifteen and was likely the youngest victor buried there.
It was unbelievable that he was truly gone. Even almost a year after the accident. Theo had been so strong. Capable. For him to be there one day and gone the next…
The Capitol Peacekeepers who investigated this accident said it was a train malfunction. All six cars derailed. Full of other affluent District 2 residents traveling back from the Capitol. The casket buried in Theo’s plot was in fact empty. Not many bodies had been recovered from the crash site. And the ones that had been were supposedly disfigured beyond recognition by the trauma of the crash.
If she had known hugging him goodbye and watching him get on that train to the Capitol would’ve been the last time she saw him, she would’ve held on tighter.
“Tomorrow’s the day. My last reaping day.” She paused, brow furrowed. “I don’t know what I dread more. Not being a tribute this year or-” she had to swallow past the sudden lump in her throat. “Or my name being pulled tomorrow,” she finished in a whisper.
In truth, the Burns family had been unraveling in the year since Theo's death. Each in their own subtle ways. But Cal saw all of them. And what had being a victor done for them at their lowest? Thrust their pain into the spotlight for all of the District and Capitol to see and consume. And for Theo! For Theo, she was angry. His victor status had done nothing more than put him in the wrong place at the wrong time. All for the satisfaction of the Capitol. They stole her brother from her and shattered her family in one fell swoop.
If she was next, would her family survive it?
But she could finally prove herself. To her family, to everyone else who talked about a fifth Burns victor. Put a stop to all the questions and expectations.
Calliope was the only Burns to not be a Hunger Games victor. There was even an actual gold plaque in their sitting room commemorating (or commiserating, in Cal’s case) the fact:
| Jack Burns - Victor - The 49th Hunger Games |
|Talia Burns - Victor - The 51st Hunger Games |
| Theseus Burns - Victor - The 71st Hunger Games |
| Apollo Burns - Victor - The 76th Hunger Games |
| Calliope Burns - |
She couldn't decide if it was more endearing or demoralizing to have her name tacked on sans victory but with the expectation that she would have one eventually.
“And I know what’s expected of me, but I’m scared, Theo. Truly for the first time in my life, I’m scared.” Calliope was scared to die. But more than that, she was afraid of what would happen to her family. Before Theo passed, there had never been anything to question. They were like a unit of invincible warriors to her. But her eyes had been opened to the truth and she’d seen past that veneer. How would they cope if it all happened again?
“But if I don’t go, I’ll never be one of Us. Not really. I mean, everyone hears the name ‘Burns’ and they assume victor, right? I don’t think I could spend the rest of my life having to be known as the only one who isn’t one.”
So stood her dilemma. Let the Capitol take more from her family or constantly be on the outside looking in.
“But shit, who knows. Maybe I could live a normal life without being a victor,” she said ruefully. “I could be a Peacekeeper like the Franklins.”
Theo’s grave remained quiet. No advice forthcoming.
“Yeah. I didn’t think so either,” Cal sighed.
-----
Cal entered her house to the delicious aroma of dinner. She could pick out the sweetness of a honey smoked ham, the smoked collards and turkey necks, and even fresh baked cornbread. Her dad had been right about her mom pulling out all the stops for her last dinner.
The muted voices of her parents floated from the kitchen as she toed off her shoes at the door.
“Hey baby,” her mom greeted. “Where have you been? You’re cutting it close to curfew.”
“I was just visiting Theo.”
“Did your brother go with you?”
Cal shook her head.
Talia sighed and wiped her hands dry on a dish towel. “That boy,” she murmured. “Alright. Go wash up. Dinner is almost ready."
Cal actually did have an idea where Apollo was. Most likely, he was hanging with the hangers-on he considered friends at his own home in the Victor’s Village. Cal had never been introduced to them but she’d seen them hanging around every now and then. And they only ever came around when they wanted to mooch off Apollo or involve him in some kind of trouble.
Apollo in particular was struggling with Theo’s death. He had planned to go on the trip to the Capitol with Theo but had bailed at the last minute. The guilt was eating him alive.
By the time Cal came back downstairs, Apollo had made an appearance. Other than his bloodshot eyes he didn’t look any worse for wear. But he was playing with fire. Not only was District 2 the epicenter of the nation’s Peacekeepers, but Talia Burns was not one to be tested. People looked at her parents and assumed Jack was the severe one. The disciplinarian. But that role belonged firmly to her mother.
Conversation during dinner was tinged with awkwardness. They avoided talk of the Reaping Ceremony. Really any talk of Cal’s potential participation in the Games had been a touchy subject with her mother for the last year. Regardless, it was clear none of them could put it out of their minds tonight.
Eventually Apollo just barreled straight through the elephant in the room: “So stick, you sure you’re ready for your Games? You gotta keep that Burns legacy going.”
Talia had stopped eating. Out of the corner of her eye Cal could see her mother white knuckling her silverware.
Cal chewed slowly. She tried to hold his gaze but couldn’t help cutting her eyes quickly to her mother for a moment. “You know I’d have to get reaped first. There’s still plenty of other kids my age with seven slips too.”
“Aw c’mon Cal, you know they’ll pull your name."
Jack chimed in. “Yeah, you know, your mom and I didn’t get reaped until we were seventeen. Sure it's taking you a little longer, but it’s your turn.”
“Jack!” Talia slammed down her utensils, rattling everything on the table. “Look,” she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose to ward off a headache. “Don’t worry about the reaping. That’s the easy part. You stand there and look pretty in your dress,” she practically sneered the last part. “And the hard part… well, the hard part, let’s just hope you won’t have to worry about that.”
“Mom...” Cal just stared at her mother, baffled. This was the closest any of them had come to expressing displeasure with the Games.
“No, no more talk about the Games,” Talia said. She continued eating like nothing happened.
“Right,” Jack replied awkwardly. He cleared his throat and reached for another chunk of cornbread, starting up a story about one of the gym regulars.
Cal couldn’t focus for the rest of dinner. Too busy overanalyzing her mom’s outburst.
-----
All the children of District 2, from age twelve to age eighteen were eligible for reaping. The morning of the reaping, they all filed in, lining up in the cordoned off areas, one for girls and another for boys. There were nerves and excitement buzzing in the air by the time Cal made it through check-in. She pushed her way to the front with the other eighteen year olds.
Any traces of the festival had been cleared overnight, replaced by Capitol approved decorations to be seen in the television broadcast. The square was lined with banners of past champions. All posing with their signature weapons, adorned in their victor crowns, looming over the kids below.
A stage had been erected right at the steps of the justice building. Lysander, the District 2 Capitol escort, stood on the steps, relaxed, chatting with the other Capitol representatives and waiting for the ceremony to begin. He was finally handed a microphone and began the same Capitol-approved speech Cal had heard for every reaping she’d ever attended.
Her heart was pounding in her chest. She tried to fight her body, tell her brain that it was from excitement. She’d been waiting for this. Craving it. This chance to finally take up the mantle of being a tribute. And eventually a victor. Truly being a Burns.
Cal turned her focus back to Lysander as his speech was coming to a close. “And may the odds be ever in your favor.”
The lottery drum of girl’s names started spinning.
Cal took a fortifying breath. She closed her eyes and steadied herself, the calm of conviction taking over.
Eighteen years of preparation.
Lysander played to the cameras, building up the tension.
I’m from a legacy of victors. Generations on generations of celebrated victors.
He stuck out a delicate hand, stopping the machine.
This is my chance.
The man dug around for a long moment then he pulled a name slip out with a flourish.
I will not fail.
She breathed out and opened her eyes.
“Your female tribute for the 82nd Hunger Games is Calliope Burns!”