Chapter 1: YEAR 0: I'm starting to think I'm stuck in a dream, cause we're young and we don't know better. (1/2)
Summary:
Cato comes home from winning the 74th Hunger Games, and Luna has to adapt to how such a thing changes not only their once-peaceful life, but Cato himself.
Notes:
Check the end notes for details such as what we imagined with the visuals, and details of age.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Luna squirmed on her spot in the crowd, rubbing the palm of her hand uncomfortably as she tried not to flinch at the people getting too close time and time again.
They had no notion of personal space, honestly.
Everyone was too excited to be quiet or not push themselves into a good spot to see the train arriving — but if they wanted to be so close, why not just get down from the tall balcony? Then she wouldn’t have to be squirming away from elbows and shoulders.
She was meant to wait up there.
The cameras wanted a big scene for the moment Cato saw her again — like a long-lost love coming back to life. Luna just wanted to go home.
The earplugs did the job for the sounds. While the people on the balcony were pushers, they weren’t screamers like the ones behind the barrier, which was at least nice.
Was it always going to be like that? So loud and full of attention?
Lyme seemed to live a peaceful life, and people left her be — though everyone knew who she was. Brutus and Enobaria were fawned over a bit, to be fair.
She hadn’t seen Wade since he won, of course, so she had no measure for a recent victor.
“There comes the train,” the reporter at the station announced. “Let’s roll the cameras.”
The officials and adjacent voices quieted down and straightened up, giving her some space and Luna tried to keep her back straight and her face from showing discomfort — he’d asked her not to cry very firmly before he left and there were no cameras there.
Cato wouldn’t be happy if she was not only seen but filmed by cameras meant to air them to the whole nation acting like a child being scolded just because she disliked the noise.
Besides, he was finally coming home.
The train moved slowly into the station and she squeezed the cool metal railing of the balcony, wishing time to move faster.
The doors opened, and it was like a brand new set of perfect lungs were put inside her body, and inflated with the cleanest air.
It was one thing to see him on TV, to hear that he was alright, but seeing was completely different.
Her shoulders lightened like the weight of the world had left them.
He was alive.
No, not only alive. He was alive, with both legs and both arms, and all ten fingers if she could count, and not a single hair of his head was missing from where she could see him.
Cato was well. He was alive and safe.
Her throat tightened as he shook hands with the reporter and, grinning, always so charming, and she blinked fast, trying to keep herself steady.
Luna’s hands squeezed the railing more, waiting for him.
She wasn’t going to cry. There was makeup on her face, everyone was looking at her and he had asked her not to cry. His wife would not be seen crying.
She blinked her wet eyes as he shook hands with the mayor, a blurry mess away just a few steps from the train as Brutus and Enobaria got their well-deserved congratulations and minutes of boosting.
Someone put a hand on her back and she jumped away, confused and uncomfortable, but a woman just grinned up at her.
“Go on,” she coached her, her tone overly syrupy. “It’s your turn now.”
Luna was glad Lyme had stopped them from making her wear heels, or else she would have tripped completely and made a fool of herself as she walked down the 16 steps from the balcony to the lower station, with not only lights pointed at her but cameras filming and photographing her right there.
Cato was smiling so largely she couldn’t keep herself from tearing up more when he came to her, and in a second his arms were around her body and she was tucked into his chest, hiding from all of them and wetting his shirt.
“It’s okay,” he rubbed her back. “I’m home. I told you I would be home.”
She felt her stomach tightening as she held a sob.
Of course, he did! But everyone who went into the games said they would be home, and yet only one person out of 24 came back.
“I know,” she hissed, squeezing him, her voice completely gone.
Cato pressed a kiss to her temple.
“Come on, they want to see us,” he coached her softly. “Won’t you let me look at you? I haven’t seen you in weeks.”
The second phrase convinced her more than the first.
He was right.
She’d been watching him in her living room since he left, but he was just as far away from her as she was from him.
Luna looked up, trying to blink her eyes dry as the cool tears fell down her cheeks, looking up at him.
"There’s my girl,” he touched her face, leaning in and giving her lips a kiss.
It was a performative kiss, she knew. For the cameras and the people. Still, it was quite a comfort for a brief second, when his lips touched hers and she could feel him right there again.
Until it didn’t quite match what she remembered.
Cato’s lips were… harder? Well, not harder but… it was hard to describe it. Cato’s lips were always thin, and soft but with some bits of bitten skin. Everything of that was gone. The skin was soft, yes, but the flesh was… off.
Luna pulled back, bewildered, and he was smiling when he rested his forehead on hers, and she couldn’t even see the way her hands travelled up to his face.
She knew his face, she had spent months sculpting his face, watching him sleep, studying him as a subject and in her bed. She had seen him for at least a year closely, and she knew him.
They had changed him.
His lips were bigger now. Slightly, just a bit really, but enough.
And when she ran her thumbs over his jaw, they didn’t find the usual path — the asymmetry she’d worked so hard to carve into marble. When her eyes looked at his skin, it was clean and perfectly white. There wasn’t a single remaining of the freckles she’d spent her early mornings counting.
“It’s okay,” he whispered.
Did he know?
Was it make-up?
But it didn’t feel like make-up when she ran her fingers over his skin.
Cato’s hand came to her wrist, cupping hers with a firm look in his eyes.
“It’s okay,” he repeated.
She looked down at his lips, but she was caught on his nose.
His nose, with the slightly widened bridge right between his eyes, with that beautiful crook… it wasn’t there. None of what she remembered was there.
Cato squeezed her hand, lowering his head, chasing her eyes with his as he took her hand and kissed her palm.
“It’s okay,” he repeated, his voice very firm.
Well, that one was the same.
She let him push her hands down — after kisses to both her palms — and guide her right to her spot down to the grinning reporter. It shocked her even more for a second — as minor as it was — that his hands were perfectly smooth. The callused bits of his palms, from the weights and the weapons, weren’t there, it was like touching her mother’s skin — completely untouched by anything that would hurt it.
“Luna,” the man greeted, too familiar with her name as if he had said it hundreds of times.
Cato slipped a hand to her back and she straightened herself up, ready to blink her tears away, but there weren’t any, she was just shocked.
“It’s a pleasure to see you again,” the man told her, offering a hand to shake.
She froze for a moment.
Again?
They’d never seen one another.
Lyme didn’t say she had to talk to people.
“Hi,” she mumbled.
He pushed the microphone closer to her face, and she would have flinched away if Cato wasn’t holding her right in place.
“I’m sure you’re very happy to see Cato back,” the reporter nudged. “I’m sure you got so many things to share with him, news from when he was away.”
She turned to Cato, lost. Wasn’t her interview before enough? What did they need her to say now?
“Yes,” she stuttered, swallowing down, feeling like a deer in headlights. “I’m… very happy to have him back.”
Luna looked at her husband again, and he was just grinning at the men.
“Well, we all know Caesar spoiled the best of the surprises,” he affirmed, her answer completely irrelevant to his next words. “But I’m sure you two have a lot to talk about now that he is back, I’m sure you are so happy to see her again.”
She glanced at the people with the cameras, quickly taking her eyes to Cato again, still shocked.
They’d changed him. Why had they changed him? He hadn’t broken his nose or his jaw, there was no need to fix them.
“I was counting the hours to come back home to her,” Cato affirmed, very firmly. “I’m glad to finally have her.”
The reporter grinned more, turning to look at her, and Luna tucked her eyes down, uncomfortable as he turned to the camera.
“Cato,” she whispered.
He grabbed her hand squeezing it.
“ Not now,” he spoke between gritted teeth.
“-And we have a wonderful day before us with our favourite new victor together, Panem, so let’s go.”
He kept talking, but she paid no attention, startled when she was simply pushed away and Cato caught her in time just to take her to the big car waiting for them.
There was a parade that was going to happen tomorrow and she wouldn’t have to attend it, but Luna was not informed of anything that was going to happen after the platform. She never watched the programs with the victors after the games were over. Mum always turned the TV off for days straight after the games, so they could decompress from it.
Someone practically shoved her into the seat and closed the door, stunning her back, and she turned her head quickly when Cato sat right by her side, her words lost in her throat.
He shot her a hard chilling look.
“Just wait,” he told her roughly. “Smile and wave to them.”
He was the victor, why did she have to wave with him?
But he grabbed her hand and squeezed it tightly, and she put on her best attempt at a smile as she waved off to people who probably didn’t care for who she was as the car drove off into the justice building in a line with other government cars, probably with much more important people than she would ever be.
The crowd was endless, so much so that Luna wondered if people were moving from spot to spot to follow them or if they had travelled from different towns to be there to see him.
Still, the streets were full as they all arrived not at the justice building — where she thought they would be — but at Victor’s Village, past Lyme’s very own house and to the last of the twelve houses to the right and parked up.
Someone opened the door for Cato and then to her, but he was already being guided away to a door with the mayor, and someone pushed her back.
“You stay here,” a woman told her. “You’ve had your moment, we want to capture our victor.”
Luna bit down a snap of an answer — she didn’t want her moment. She didn’t want cameras on her face or people pushing her!
"Yes,” she mumbled, anyway, stepping back.
Cato looked into the crowd, trying to find her and meeting her eyes right before someone simply blocked her view of him — and probably his of her.
Luna circled the crowd of elites. Cato looked smaller now, thinner. Of course, it wasn’t surprising — he’d spent weeks in an arena with limited food, fighting for his life.
“-your first gift from the Capitol, your very own house at Victor’s Village,” the reporter announced to the camera, standing by his side. “Tell me, Cato-”
His hair had been cut from the time he spent in the arena, back to the usual short style. The colour looked the same — very blonde, with the tips a bit lighter.
He was still wearing the bracelet she had given him, and he had lost his tan from the usual summer sun — but she couldn’t know if it was something they did or just a reflex from the arena. It was closed, and it had no sun.
From afar, he looked like himself.
And yet, when Luna looked at his face, it was like she was seeing a painting of a painting. A picture of a picture.
All faces, she learnt with her sculpting, had flaws. Luna’s right eye was slightly taller than her other eye, and so was her eyebrow. Actually, the whole left side of her face was a bit higher than her right.
Juno’s hairline was wonky. Jupiter’s lips spread less to the right than to the left. Cato’s jaw and nose were a bit crooked to the right in a way — they used to be.
No one is meant to look perfect. People were meant to have things that looked different when their faces were parted in a way.
He looked perfect, and that was horrible. Terrifying, in a way.
A woman slipped right in front of Luna into a man’s arms, and she caught sight of Lyme walking to the group to join her, breathing out in relief at the sight of a familiar face and ready to join her when she heard the sound of her name.
“With Luna, of course!” Cato exclaimed.
She turned her head to him, and the pair in front of her stepped away from their spot.
She was less spooked when he strode through the flower-covered yard, reaching out his hand to her, and she took it without even thinking, feeling every pair of eyes on her.
“It’s our house,” Cato looked into her eyes.
And oh, maybe his face looked a bit different, and his freckles were gone, but those were his eyes.
She would never forget his eyes. They would never change.
Luna squeezed his fingers and he guided her right to the door of the house.
Their house.
It was huge. The door itself could walk three people in easily, the size of it was extraordinary and completely unnecessary.
“This is the moment we all love to see,” the reporter announced behind them. “Our beloved victor stepping into his house and his new role and life as one of our country’s greatest heroes.”
Cato was about to take her along when a woman came right to him, dressed and practically painted in red with her make-up and hair to stop him.
“Go on and pick her up, it’s going to be very romantic!” she whispered, suddenly reaching for Luna to adjust her hair. “Who did your hair, darling, why does it look so flat?”
She flinched away.
“That won’t be-”
Necessary, she was going to say.
But she couldn’t. Cato moved down, putting his arm under her knees and hoisting her up, and she braced herself on his shoulders, looking at his face.
He looked so tired. How long had the cameras been following him? They could be recording on the train, they were probably recording him in the Capitol as well.
“Just for the cameras,” he told her, his voice very soft.
Luna didn’t fight him, just nodding a bit.
It was almost like the day they got married. He’d carried her inside her little studio.
A camera came to their side and she kept her eyes on him when the door opened slowly.
Just this and the day would be over, right?
“And three… two...” someone counted. “Go in.”
Her husband complied, holding her close to him as he stepped over the threshold of their new house, and the inside was a welcome silence for the three seconds it took people to follow them in.
It was a huge house. The living room was as tall as maybe two whole floors, and she could see a long staircase to a balcony of sorts to the second floor.
“A remarkable place indeed,” the reporter introduced as Cato set her down. “An extensive living room, twelve bedrooms, two offices, six full bathrooms and two half bathrooms, and a kitchen that can feed a battalion! And you know what our dear Victor said, this baby is going to be the first of many to join their family.”
Luna’s neck snapped to look at him, and she looked away at the sight of the camera.
The baby. They hadn’t even talked about the baby yet.
They hadn’t talked about anything at all!
Cato’s hand sneaked to her belly to rest on it, and Luna softened, covering it with his.
“Caesar told me,” he whispered. “When did you find out?”
She felt her face flushing.
It was one of her biggest grievances, having to tell Caesar Flickerman about a baby she herself wasn’t ready to address.
“A bit after the chariot ride,” she covered his hand with hers. "Mum made me get a test.”
His eyes looked down at his hand, looking both awed and lost.
He pulled his hand away suddenly, stiffening up, and she turned right to the side when he did so, finding the camera already approaching them again.
“And I’m sure the future Mrs Hadley is going to love the sight of her new kitchen,” he spoke up, approaching the two of them. “We all know you love working with your hands.”
Luna blinked, stunned. She was a sculptor, not a cook. Mum had to chase her away from the kitchen sometimes.
But a woman grabbed her hand before she could even think of what to say, hoisting it up and holding her fingers like he was meant to guide her off, and she couldn’t even squirm away from her.
A camera remained with Cato, but another followed the two of them right away as she let herself be guided away.
The kitchen was indeed gigantic. It felt like someone had torn down the wall between her parents’ kitchen and dining room and turned it into a single room.
“As you can see,” the woman started speaking, sounding extremely excited as she tugged her into the middle of the room. “You’ll have a fridge, especially for meats, as we all know how much a victor and mentor as strong as Cato needs his protein.”
The woman pointed at the first fridge, with a huge pair of doors.
“It gets to lower degrees and it is primed for the conservation of raw protein. And your main fridge-”
Luna looked around, still a bit stunned.
It was just the two of them. Yes, three in a few months, but they could easily live off of a house smaller than even her parents. And she understood that Cato was a victor and he would have his house anyway — it was a very generous gift from the Capitol — but it unsettled her belly anyway.
“We took the liberty of filling it up already, of course,” the woman laughed, opening the doors. “With the best of everything there is, for our favourite victor.”
The woman moved a hand to her back, turning her around to the aisles without even caring to look at her.
“All of the utilities are hidden to preserve the beauty of the place,” she continued, running her fingers under the marble rimming of the counters. “Here you’ll find a button to reveal the dishwasher...”
Luna was ready to bend down to look, but the woman held her arm.
“Buttons, dear.”
Her face felt hot, and reached for the buttons, a bit confused.
Finally, the dishwasher appeared — big enough to fit dishes of three meals inside it.
“The cycles are silent and especially adjusted for the Capitol plates, isn’t that marvellous?” she asked.
But Luna couldn’t even open her mouth to answer.
It was weird, actually.
“And here is your sink, you have hot and cold water,” she continued explaining. “You can control the water jets and this button on the wall will start the internal processor, so do not get your pretty finger inside the hole or you might lose it!” she giggled.
Luna’s eyes widened. What?!
“The cupboards are self-cleaning,” she continued. “An internal system that gets rid of the dust particles, very recently invented and patented by the Capitol. Don’t you love the sight of sparkling clean crystal?”
She looked up.
Was it any different from normal glass?
“The oven is the centrepiece of the kitchen,” the woman continued, very dramatically. “But you will have the privilege of having not one, but two of them.”
Luna blinked.
“Why would I need two ovens?”
The woman turned to her, looking surprised, as if she didn’t expect her to speak.
“For so many reasons!” she laughed.
Why was she laughing?
“Oh, you are indeed so adorable,” she sighed dreamily. “This is the first one, a conventional oven, for those quick everyday meals.” she continued, and the camera focused right on it.
She continued explaining without care, over specifications that meant nothing — numbers and names Luna couldn’t find half a reason for.
The woman talked about steaming, toasting, baking… smoking?
It was a long tour for a single room, and she guessed it was… a nice room? Pretty. And it had a nice table too, so it was convenient.
“We are so excited to show you the rooms upstairs as well,” she exclaimed. “Let’s go back and join the main crew.”
Luna exhaled, relaxing. Good, they would probably focus on Cato now.
And yet, the moment the crews met again, Cato’s hand came to grab hers and squeeze them tightly.
“They have a surprise for you,” he told her.
She moved on her feet, uncomfortable.
"Is it another kitchen?” she mumbled back.
Cato snorted out a laugh, sounding shocked, and everyone turned to them right before he stiffened up again, though smiling.
That made Luna relax. Well, at least she could still make him smile in that stupid full day.
“It’s something nice,” he told her quietly, kissing her knuckles. “I know you’ll like it.”
She breathed out. Well, that was good, then.
“Now, our future married pair are set to get married in, spoilers, September,” the reporter spoke out, filling the room, and she turned right to him, wide-eyed.
September?
“It’s going to be a lovely occasion, I’m certain,” he approached them. “But we decided that we would give Cato’s bride a little… engagement gift.”
She was still stunned.
They were getting married in September? When? Where?
Of course, they’d gotten married in secret before, but it was just a cultural ceremony, and Cato said the Capitol would probably want to make their wedding into a big show, but wouldn’t they at least speak to her about it first?
“This way, come with us.”
Cato tugged her along the way quietly.
“We have a couple of guest rooms downstairs for those family visits, as far from the master bedroom as possible, I assure you,” he joked, leading the crew. “And here… come here, my dearest.”
Someone pushed her, making Luna stumble up, and the reporter assistant who’d dragged her through the kitchen grabbed her hand again.
This time, though, she quickly snatched it away — though no one seemed to care. She wasn’t a child, she didn’t need to be tugged along.
“Here is probably the best gift you’ve ever received in your whole life!” his voice cracked as if he was about to cry about her feelings.
He pushed the door open and Luna was pushed inside without a care, but the sight of the machine inside made her freeze in shock.
It was a stone-cutting machine.
No, it wasn’t only a stone-cutting machine, it was the best one that was out there in the market!
“We all heard of your lovely sculpting hobby, and we are all very excited to have busts and sculptures of our favourite victor to ourselves,” the reporter explained, mischievous. “And now we all know where to source it from.”
She was so frozen she didn’t even think to correct him — it wasn’t a hobby, it was her work!
Luna stepped up to the machine, hovering her hands over it. She would have to work twenty years straight to purchase anything near its quality.
She couldn’t even touch it — what if she broke it?!
“Who better to give us the most accurate works than someone who sleeps right beside him on his bed, am I right?” the reporter joked. “If you go around, you can see how we’ve also given you the best new sculpting tools money can buy.”
Luna turned to look at them, still shocked.
“Oh, don’t look at me,” he told her. “Look at your future husband, he’s the one who arranged all of it.”
She looked at Cato, shocked, and he simply smiled, walking to her.
“Surprise,” he whispered.
He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheek.
“You don’t have to sculpt me,” Cato teased her gently. “It’s yours. You do what you want with it.”
She squeezed his hand, genuinely excited.
It was such a nice surprise! It was much better than whatever that kitchen was.
“Now, we can go ahead and show you the bedrooms!” the man continued. “They are all made for guests now...” he exclaimed, and then giggled, obviously winking at the camera. “But with time, you are certainly going to be able to decorate them for your growing family.”
Cato tugged her along out to the corridor, and Luna tried not to deflate. She hadn’t even seen her tools yet! Or the manual for the machine.
They left and walked through the corridor, and she was still thinking back on the machine when they saw the guest rooms — all very standard, pretty much like the rooms in Lyme’s house when she stayed with her.
The man kept talking, and she just watched everything. Were they going to take much longer? They were at that for… two hours already?
“And now, we go to the top floor of the house,” the reporter explained. “Careful with the stairs. Come, Cato.”
Cato complied, taking her right with him.
Three levels. Twelve bedrooms.
Who in the world needed twelve bedrooms? Who had a family big enough to fill up twelve bedrooms and still be part of the elite?
Luna had seen those people growing up. It was very rare that someone from the higher classes had more than two kids. Even in her own circles, the biggest group of siblings she had seen were composed of five of them.
With Peacekeepers almost always being shipped to different districts with such short visits to their home and families, most people kept their families smaller. It was the lower classes that had more children, the people who mined the stones and did the manual labour — they needed all the help they could get.
“This is where the magic happens,” the reporter grinned. “After your wedding, obviously. Let’s get inside.”
He entered with the cameras before Cato did, and it was good that they had gone first, so she could look around the bedroom.
It was the size of her whole little flat - with the bedroom and the bathroom. Actually, it looked even bigger.
The bed could fit maybe eight people her size. Maybe three of her with three of Cato in there. It was family-sized, somehow — it had to be as big as a bedroom. Who would sleep on something so big?
“Here we have your bathroom,” he continued, moving to film the bathroom, but she didn’t follow them, still a bit shocked.
A holographic projector for the television, she’d only seen those in school.
And so many couches. Why would they need couches in their bedroom? It was a bedroom! It was made for sleep.
“Right beside it is his closet,” she heard as the crew moved, and they looked right to look at Cato, right by her side. “Completely made by your stylist, come you’re going to love it!”
Cato tugged on Luna’s hand, but she didn’t let herself be taken by him.
“It’s your closet,” she reminded him softly, the last word catching in her throat. “You should… go.”
The word ‘alone’ was unsaid, but still there. Honestly, the thought of being in a room without cameras for a minute sounded too delightful to pass.
He stared at her for a moment, wide-eyed, as if he was caught in a trap.
“I’ll be here,” she assured him. “Sat down. Please.”
Just one minute, she just needed one minute.
Cato didn’t say anything, but released her hand stiffly, walking out with his shoulders so tense it looked like he was trying to pose.
Luna looked around, suddenly feeling her feet hurting and her whole body just screaming for a minute.
Maybe she could just walk out. Leave him with his interview crew, and just go.
But when she looked at the door, the people following around them were all piling outside, looking into the room with curiosity like a barrier was keeping them stuck in their place.
She swallowed down, feeling like an animal trapped in a cage, and looked at her feet before sitting down on the nearest chair, trying to make herself as small as possible, and the fabric of her dress was rough when she took it between her fingers, rubbing it as she tried to keep herself from tensing too much or getting overwhelmed.
Just this last bedroom and they would leave them be, right?
Or at least leave her be.
She wasn’t important. Cato was the star. The victor.
Luna pushed her hair behind her ears, shifting uncomfortably, looking back at the door again.
It was just a short walk to Lyme’s house, and she didn’t bother her at all when she was at her house.
Luna rubbed her wrist as she looked out the window. It was so far away from her town, though. Why would they put Cato so far away from where he initially lived? And it was a five-hour drive from her parents’ house!
Surely it wouldn’t be a nuisance to put Cato in the Victor’s Village there?! They’d been there before, there were empty houses they could give to Cato!
“And now, a surprise from our very own crew to our dear Victor,” the reporter’s voice caught her attention again, and Luna’s neck snapped to look up at him. “When Caesar heard about the wonderful news from your bride herself, he wanted to give the two of you something.”
She stood up, a bit weary. They were talking about the baby.
“And, of course, we all poured into it,” he continued, grinning.
Cato came to her right away, grabbing her hand, looking at her face and squeezing her fingers, and she just knew he knew her too well to fall for any attempt of hers to pretend she was alright.
Luna didn’t even hear the words the man was speaking to the camera as Cato walked her off, trying to focus on keeping herself breathing and not just digging a hole to hide away in.
Why had they given her a dress with such big sleeves? It was August. Who wore sleeves in August?
The reporter opened the door, and Cato ushered them inside, and she froze at the sight of what was inside.
A nursery.
The bright electric colours were all she could see at first — the walls, the bedding, the curtains. Everything was loud and overwhelming. A bunch of weird toys cluttered the space, and it looked like something out of a Capitol showroom rather than a nursery.
“What do you think?” the reporter turned to them expectantly, his smile widening.
She looked away from them, not trusting herself to give them an answer. Her throat tightened, and she swallowed down the sharp sting of tears. This was supposed to be their child’s room. Their nursery. Their choices! The colours, the crib, the details — they should’ve picked everything themselves! Wasn’t that part of it? The excitement, the joy of creating a space together for the baby they were expecting?
But even that had been taken from them, stripped of meaning and turned into some TV spectacle!
She felt Cato’s fingers squeezing hers, urging her to meet his gaze, and his eyes searched her face as she shook her head, her lower lip trembling despite her efforts to hold it all in.
If she said even a word, she could fall into tears. He had to know.
Cato sighed softly, and Luna caught the brief flicker of annoyance in his eyes before he pulled her into his chest. She buried her face against him without hesitation, trying to block out the room, the cameras, the eyes on her.
She just wanted to disappear.
“Oh, look at her!” the reporter cooed, his voice dripping with fake sympathy as if he were talking to a shy toddler. “Oh, darling, there’s no need to cry. The poor thing…”
Luna flinched as she felt a stranger's hand brush her back, but before she could pull away, Cato’s hand replaced it, holding her closer.
“She’s just overwhelmed,” Cato said smoothly, his voice so fake she couldn’t even recognise it, the perfect mask of politeness. “We had such a long day, with so many surprises. This is… so beautiful and so nice. The gifts we’ve received, the wonderful people we met…”
She tried to focus on the sound of him under her — his voice echoing in his chest, the sound of his heart under her ear, as loud and fast as her own.
“This is so wonderful,” Cato continued, his tone as hollow as the words he spoke. “I never once thought returning home would be so… joyful.”
Joyful. Had he ever used that word? Well, no. It wasn’t Cato speaking; it was a script. A line fed to him, polished and memorized for a moment like this.
“We are so glad to be part of this, you have no idea,” the reporter affirmed, like he was talking about a fairytale of sorts.
Cato’s hand rubbed soothing circles on her back, but the motion felt mechanical, his hand gentle but nothing close to the usual affection.
“And cut,” the assistant called out cheerfully, clapping her hands. “Now we’ll take a photo for Caesar and wrap everything up at the garden — it’s going to be majestic!”
Cato stiffened as he pulled away from Luna, his motions rigid, mechanical, and she kept her eyes down as everyone around them began to move, chatting and arranging things, but she couldn’t even look at the damn room!
They weren’t going to set up the nursery there! They weren’t even doing to stay in that damn room, who would willingly sleep on the 3rd floor of a house that size?!
“Let’s just get that photo quick,” someone said loudly, grabbing her attention.
She froze for a moment. Couldn’t they have a moment?
Before she could process it, the woman in red — her heels were clacking against the vivid green carpet — rushed to her, hands already reaching out.
“Oh, you are a mess,” she exclaimed, suddenly reaching for her face and taking her hair from behind her ears. “Who let you wear your hair like that? You needed curls!”
Luna froze, staring at her, motionless.
Why was she touching her face? Her face!
No.
No, no, no. That was it.
She stepped away from the woman, feeling as stiff as a cut of marble, with her hands in front of her body, looking for the way out of the room without thinking.
“Luna,” Cato called again, the irritation she knew he was feeling sipping into his voice.
But she didn’t stop or even look at him, her legs moved before her brain could catch up. She burst into the bedroom, then the first door she could find, her fingers trembling as she slammed it shut behind her, locking it with a twist.
She could barely breathe when she practically crawled into a corner, ignoring the fabrics and clothes, tucking herself into a squared space she wouldn’t know how to name in the dark, heart pounding in her ears and dress itching her back. She didn’t even think before her fingers fumbled with the buttons at the back of her neck, pulling the dress down off her shoulders. It bunched awkwardly around her belly as she hugged her knees to her chest, curling into herself.
There was a noise of chatter outside that overwhelmed even her earplugs, and she covered her ears without even thinking, flinching when a knock on the door echoed through the empty room.
“Luna,” Cato’s voice followed, cold and deliberate, and every word felt like it was being spat out. “Come out.”
She closed her eyes, tucking her head down, unable to even speak any words.
“They want to take a picture of us and film our garden."
But they had already taken so many pictures. Why did they need more? Couldn’t they just use one of the hundreds they’d already taken the whole day?
“Please,” his voice dropped into a near-hiss, his frustration seeping through the door. “You’re making a scene.”
The words hit her like a whip, stinging. A scene. She didn’t want to be causing a scene, she wasn’t trying to make things difficult, he had to know that.
Cato knew her. She didn’t like loud noises, she didn’t like scratchy clothes, and she didn’t like being touched by strangers! He knew all of that — he knew it since the very first day they’d met!
Cato’s knock came again, louder and sharper this time, making her flinch, and Luna curled into herself even more.
There was a sigh from the other side of the door — heavy and full of forced patience.
“We can proceed without my bride,” Cato’s voice announced, loud and clear, his words filled with a performative politeness. “She is terribly emotional because of the baby and the wonderful gifts we received today. We should give her a minute.
Luna bit down on her lip hard, her hands clutching her hair for a moment.
Because of the baby, of course, it was always because of the baby. She was too emotional, too fragile to handle anything anymore, as if she hadn’t been surrounded by people she didn’t know as they pushed and shoved her and ogled her like a zoo animal the whole day.
The voices outside the door started to fade. They must have believed Cato’s explanation, or at least liked that they had him all for themselves now. The sounds of footsteps grew distant, and after a few minutes, silence finally fell over the room.
Notes:
Ages of character now:
Luna Astoria Elletra Hadley, born on the 21st of November of the year of the 55th Hunger Games: 18 years old
Cato Gaius Hadley, born on the 3rd of September of the year of the 55th Hunger Games: 18 years old
Chapter 2: YEAR 0: I'm starting to think I'm stuck in a dream, cause we're young and we don't know better. (2/2)
Summary:
The Capitol leaves Cato and his bride to enjoy his first months of being a victor.
Days before his Victory Tour, they break their bubble of peace for the first time.
Notes:
Call me silly, but I was so excited to show these two having sex after 52 chapters of innocent hinting. - Beca
Check the end notes for details such as what we imagined with the visuals, and details of age.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Luna stayed there, unmoving, on the floor. She turned onto her side, curling up into a tighter ball, the plushness of the carpet keeping her comfortable.
She stayed in there for a long time before getting up and turning on the light inside, and just then realised the closet wasn’t exactly empty.
This one was enormous, easily the size of her bedroom back at her parents’ house. She stared for a moment, taking in the high ceilings, the built-in shelves, and rows upon rows of empty hangers, and it wasn’t filled all around, but there were enough clothes in there to surprise her.
At least ten dresses hung on display, delicate and impossibly feminine, all of them airy and light, as if they were meant to lift off the ground at the slightest breeze, all in pastel, soft tones.
She stepped closer, brushing her fingers along the soft fabric of one. It felt expensive, like they were for someone else much more important.
Not for her at all.
Luna peeked into the room before opening the door fully, holding her dress to her chest as she made sure it was empty, and peeked out through the curtain at the sound of people in the garden.
It was a nice garden. There were flowers in there and lights. Cato was out there, looking every bit the part of the charming Victor as he spoke animatedly to the camera, his smile wide and seemingly genuine – though, if she knew him, that could be an act.
Lyme had told her about the Capitol, what it really could be like. If she was to marry Cato, she had to understand that they were the ones who dictated the terms. They wanted to craft a story, a fairytale of romance and triumph, and they had certainly been getting their wish.
And since her interview with Caesar – when Cato was one of the last tributes in the arena – they were getting it.
It had to be partially her fault, how easily she folded and gave them fuel. They wanted to make Cato interesting then, when it became clearer how he was going to win. He was not only a hero whose victory was not just a personal achievement, but part of a grand narrative. He won the games, and then he came home to collect his prize: his blushing bride.
Luna.
She watched him from behind the curtain quietly, not sure of what to even do as they kept rolling and laughing and entertaining. It felt like a lifetime until the crew finally left, and she was able to take a deep breath before slipping back into her dress.
She smoothed out the fabric nervously and was about to leave when the door opened and Cato walked inside, completely stiff as he stepped inside.
Luna squeezed her fingers nervously, embarrassed and he huffed for a moment before clearly forcing himself to calm down.
“The closet?” he asked, his frustration barely masked. “Really?”
Luna twisted her engagement ring.
“She was on my face,” she mumbled. “And touching me.”
“We talked about this,” Cato reminded her, his eyes strong as he stepped up to her. “You promised me you would behave well, that you could do it, and then I come home and you hide in the closet!”
She looked down at her feet, her skin burning in embarrassment.
“I’m sorry,” she twisted the ring more.
“Do you know how lucky we are they even let you be here?” Cato hissed, snappy. “That they let you welcome me, and all you do is cry and hide!.”
She glanced up at him.
Didn’t he understand all that she had gone through?
The horror of watching him fight with two dozen people for his life in the Hunger Games? Waking up to see him covered with blood on the TV, not knowing if it was his or someone else’s, escaping death time and time again?
“We haven’t seen each other in weeks,” she shot back. “Of course I was crying. I spent half that time scared you might not come back.”
He stopped, his shoulders sagging as if the weight of everything was pressing down on him.
“Everyone always knew I was gonna win,” Cato declared.
But he didn’t even sound like he believed in it.
And how could he? He had barely escaped the giant wolves – dogs? Beasts ! - before his fight with Thresh.
She’d seen him almost fall down not once, but six times. It almost killed her!
If something had happened to him… Luna couldn’t even think of what would be of her.
“Well, I didn’t,” Luna mumbled, not looking at him as she crossed her arms tightly.
She couldn’t say it looking at his face – she knew she shouldn’t doubt him. As his wife, Luna should be his first fan and louder cheerer.
“You were expecting me to die?” he asked, a mix of hurt and disbelief in his tone.
She looked right back at him.
“I was afraid you were going to die!” she corrected him.
Cato exhaled heavily, and she turned away again just as he walked over, gently pulling her arm to uncross it.
“Well, I didn’t,” he said softly, parroting her words right back to her.
Luna looked away, but he moved his hand to her face, holding her by the chin and making her look at him.
“I’m here,” he said softly. “I didn’t die.”
She bit her lip, tears welling up in her eyes again as she struggled to hold them back.
He moved his fingers up to her face and ran his thumbs over her cheeks carefully.
“I’m sorry you felt like that,” he told her. “It must have been terrifying.”
Luna swallowed down, her throat tightening.
It was. Very much so.
He leaned in and kissed her forehead, and that was all it took. Luna broke down into his chest, crying and whimpering like a child. Cato cradled her gently, holding her so tightly it was like he was afraid she would slip away.
They didn’t stay in that room.
Actually, after that day, the third floor just remained empty and untouched even by the staff.
The wedding preparations were… nonexistent. Between the day Cato came back and the day of the wedding, a month later, Luna visited her home twice, spending a week there each just to get everything moving.
Mum was desolated that she had to leave, and Juno even cried at saying goodbye to her the day she officially left her bedroom – even after saying so many times she would love to be able to tear down her wall and make a mega room for herself now.
The studio was given back, and she gifted her old stone-cutting machine to some other aspiring sculptor and tried on her dress for the first time two weeks before the actual wedding.
It was… terrible.
No, not terrible.
But it was strange.
Everything about the wedding was strange, like it was made for someone else – and it was; it was made for the Capitol, from start to end.
They skipped the bread ceremony, took their traditional vows away, and made it so different it was barely a wedding for Luna and probably anyone watching it in the district.
Yes, watching it. They made a wedding special about it and filmed every little thing – from the moment she had her dress on to the moment they closed the door of the top floor bedroom for their ‘wedding night’.
Luna didn’t remember a moment of it. The whole day was a blur of following instructions. And then, the two days after were a blur of trying to recover because she was so exhausted she could barely speak and couldn’t take a single brush of a hand against her arm, much less do anything a married couple was meant to do.
“ Layers and layers of translucent chiffon and organza, gracefully cascading over the other on the skirt and sleeves ,” Caesar Flickerman read on his card as the camera panned on an image of Luna herself smiling shyly to the screen on the TV show. “ The bodice was embroidered with silver and pearls in the motif of flowers and took eight days of nonstop work to complete, that is fantastic, look at her.”
Luna was looking. And it wasn’t her – herself. The woman on the Wedding Special rerun was a stranger, decorated with so many shining things it almost hid the dullness of exhaustion in her eyes.
“You looked like a doll,” Cato rubbed his hand down her thigh, his touch very gentle. "They even made you blonde."
Luna was sat on his lap, her face hidden on his neck, her nose right where he used to have a beautiful mole.
“I was one,” she sighed. “Ellyn just made me into a walking mannequin.”
Her hair was still growing out that colour change.
She glanced up at the screen, and the Bride was smiling at her Groom, slipping a ring into his finger with a shy smile.
“She looked straight out of a dream,” the commentator affirmed. “What was that nickname you gave her when we were talking?”
“The Capitol’s Delight,” Caesar declared openly.
Luna recoiled in discomfort, and Cato turned to look at her.
“You want me to turn it off?” he asked softly.
Luna sighed.
They hadn’t watched the special when it first aired, and she had no intention of watching it again now.
“We’ll be seeing them together soon on the Victory Tour!” Caesar’s voice boomed before she could respond. “Do you think she’ll have that marriage glow? She’s just so adorable, the way she looks at him.”
The commentator chuckled alongside him.
“Well, she’ll certainly have something new to show off,” he added, motioning toward his stomach in a crude gesture.
Her tongue soured.
“Please,” she mumbled.
Cato didn’t hesitate. He grabbed the remote, switched the TV off, and then turned back to her, his hand gently cradling the small curve of her belly where their baby grew.
They were having a boy — a very healthy, big boy. The doctors had told her that repeatedly, though one could barely tell by looking at her. She was ten weeks away from giving birth, and her belly barely showed it. Something wasn’t translating between the size of the baby and her own body - she was tall and strong, the doctors said. It was normal, apparently.
Cato was going to leave for his Victory Tour the day after tomorrow, and when Ellyn came to show her the dress she would be wearing to accompany him when stopped at their District on his way to the Capitol, the moment she put it on, she looked no more pregnant than she had on her wedding day.
“I don’t even look like I’m carrying him,” she mumbled, frustrated.
Cato’s fingers gently drifted to the spot where their boy usually kicked, tracing light circles over her belly.
“Well, he’s right there,” he whispered, leaning in to kiss her cheek. “We’ve been seeing him every two weeks for months now, little Loony."
Luna chuckled, the silly nickname lifting some of the weight from her chest.
“Our little Prince,” she corrected with a teasing smile. “Cato II.”
His cheeks flushed pink, the name still embarrassing him. It had been her choice, something she’d been quietly thinking about ever since he returned;
“I still can’t believe you picked that name,” he muttered.
“You deserved it,” she whispered, reaching up to caress his jaw. “Our son deserves it too.”
Cato’s face softened at her words, but there was still that boyish nervousness, a side of him she adored to see. It meant he was still himself.
Slowly, he looked down and away from her, focusing on the baby before sighing.
“Speaking of him,” he spoke slowly. “And the tour.”
Luna focused on him again, frowning.
He would leave for the tour the day after tomorrow, and spend a day on each district.
Cato promised a lot of things. Little trinkets from every place – a lump of coal from 12, some fruit that was only ever available on 11, fish and pearls from 4… things like that. It was silly and adorable.
“I was talking to Ellyn,” he looked at her face, very serious. “And we talked about what you will be wearing when I stop at two.”
Luna exhaled.
Yes, she would be there with him at his stop at District 2. She would give him his flowers and his hero welcome.
“Yeah?”
He moved his hand a bit more, caressing her belly under the big shirt she wore for sleep.
“She told me to… tell you... to wear something for the day,” Cato spoke slowly.
Luna hardened herself, clenching her jaw. That didn’t sound good at all.
“Which would be?”
Cato swallowed down, exhaling.
“A belly,” he told her, his voice barely loud enough. “So you’ll look… bigger.”
Bigger.
More pregnant , they had probably said.
She could almost hear the Capitol’s stylist team talking — round and glowing, a perfect picture of maternal beauty. Not… this. Not her little bump that barely showed at all and looked like a bloat after lunch and not an actual baby.
She got up from his lap, not meeting his eyes as she put on her shoes again. It wasn’t like they could say anything, was it? It wasn’t a suggestion, it was a command.
“Sure,” she mumbled, putting on her shoes. “Just tell her to bring it with the dress.”
Cato sighed, not moving from his spot on the couch.
"Luna," he called softly, his voice gentle, almost pleading. "Please."
But she didn’t listen to him, feeling her eyes already stinging with tears, and the lump in her throat tightened as she stepped away from him.
He hated to see her cry, they both knew that. What did falling into tears do? It didn’t help anything.
She stepped outside into the garden, the cold biting at her skin almost immediately, and she wrapped her arms around herself as she looked over the little strawberry bush the gardener had been nice enough to plan for them, boxed up in order to not infiltrate the soil.
Why couldn’t they just let her be ?
She hadn’t won anything. She wasn’t a victor, she was just a random sculptor who happened to be married to one.
No other Victor’s family was expected to perform, and yet, they put all that on her.
The door to the house opened behind her, and she felt the big covers being put over her shoulders before Cato even spoke up, standing by her side.
“You know it’s not something I approve,” he murmured. “If it was for me, you’d have all the privacy you want. You wouldn’t have to show up, you wouldn’t have to wear those stupid clothes and that fucking…” he let out a long, angry breath as if words alone couldn't express the size of his frustration.
Yeah, she knew that.
She didn’t doubt, even for a second, that if Cato had his way, she would never be subjected to the Capitol’s whims. But knowing that didn’t ease her own frustration.
If she didn’t have a choice in all this, then Cato — even with all his strength and status as a victor — had even less.
Luna’s hands tightened on the edge of the blanket, her knuckles turning white.
“They would ignore me if I was normal,” she breathed out, staring at the big fruit tree they hadn’t seen giving fruit yet.
“Normal,” Cato echoed quietly, his voice barely louder than a breath.
“ Normal ,” she looked at him, unable to hide the bitterness in her voice.
He had to know that.
She had heard it her whole life, how she wasn’t normal. How she was defective and would never be good enough.
"If I could perform , smile on cue, play the part like they want me to. If I didn’t hide the second someone wanted to talk to me, didn't flinch when they touched me... they would ignore me. I'd just be another wife, someone who would be blended into the background."
Cato’s jaw tensed as he looked down at her, the frustration evident in his eyes. He knew she was right. If she played along, if she gave them what they wanted—acted like the Capitol’s perfect little puppet… they wanted her because they knew she didn’t like the attention, because she wanted to blend in. They called her adorable because they knew she couldn’t help herself and it wasn’t an act!
Because she was odd.
“You wouldn’t be yourself, then,” Cato spoke suddenly, breaking the silence.
Luna turned her head slightly, confused as she met his eyes. Before she could ask, Cato leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to her temple, his warm breath against her cold skin.
“If you weren’t… yourself,” he repeated, his voice more resolute this time. “The way you are now? That’s what makes you you .”
Luna blinked, trying to process his words.
“It's what’s right about you, your oddness,” he affirmed. “Normal girls are boring.”
She chuckled, feeling her heart warming up.
“I wouldn’t love you more if you were any different,” he told her. “If it helps.”
Luna smiled, breathing.
It did, a little bit.
“Let’s get inside,” he patted her shoulder. “It’s cold here, you don’t want to catch a chill.”
He led her inside, his hand warm against her back as he ushered her back to the couch where they’d been before. Cato didn’t hesitate — he pulled her back onto his lap, just like before, wrapping his strong arms around her as if shielding her from the world. Luna didn’t resist; she tucked her head into the curve of his neck, inhaling his scent that hadn’t changed since the first time she’d been close to him.
They could have touched his face, but he was still himself.
“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed out, his fingers tracing slow, soothing circles on her thigh. He paused as if savouring the words before speaking again. “My wife .”
The word set warmly in his chest – Cato loved repeating it into her ear, and now they didn’t need to hide that.
She shivered, feeling moving right up her skin, making her breath hitch. Cato knew exactly how sensitive she’d become lately, and he seemed to fucking adore this.
“My very beautiful wife,” his touch climbed higher, and his fingers ran over the back of her thighs, tickling her.
“Cato,” she squirmed, her voice coming out in a half-whine.
But he only hummed, feigning innocence as he leaned closer, his face hovering near hers.
“Yeah?”
His breath was warm against her cheek, as his eyes sparkled with that mischievous glint she knew all too well.
Her face burned and she cast her eyes down, but Cato simply grinned, nuzzling his nose against hers, and his hands moved higher up, grazing the sensitive spot on her inner thigh, and she parted her legs just a little, instinctively.
“What are you thinking?” he taunted her gently, brushing his fingers against the inside of her thigh from behind.
“Cato…” she took a hand up, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.
He just pouted teasingly.
Luna leaned in, closing the space between them, her lips barely an inch away from his before he pulled back.
“You have to ask,” he reminded her.
She glared at him.
He was such a tease .
“Kiss me,” she mumbled.
Her husband’s smile widened into a bit grin before he finally leaned in and closed the distance. His lips met hers, soft but insistent, and she melted into the kiss, moving her hand up and around his neck.
There he was, firm and delicious – damn intoxicating. And maybe his lips felt a little bit different, but what he knew to do with them was still always perfect.
Cato moved his hand around her thigh, and she stretched one of her legs to give him space to touch her between them, but he just caressed her knee, dragging his teeth over her lower lip as he pulled back.
Well, at least he tried.
She pushed her fingers into his hair, tugging and pulling him closer again, and he met her right away again.
Cato devoured her as much as she devoured him, until her lips were aching and she was so hot that the feeling of his hand just caressing her knee was torture.
He pulled away from her lips, taking his kisses down to her jaw, and she was panting when he started giving her jaw little nibbles. And his hand hadn’t fucking moved.
“Cato,” she whined. “Your hand…”
His tongue licked up the skin of her neck, and she gasped when he dragged his teeth over her sensitive spot.
“My hand?” he cooed back.
Luna spread her legs more, giving up on being subtle.
She had barely anything on – a big old shirt of his and her panties, nothing much.
“Please,” she sighed, closing her eyes when he sucked a bruise on her skin.
He chuckled right against her neck, his hand travelling up, and she nearly cried in relief as his fingers caressed her skin, up her sensitive inner thigh and to her cotton underwear as he sucked onto her skin.
“Yes, please,” she panted.
“Right here?” he hummed, rubbing his knuckle over her seams.
She arched her hips, chasing the touch, but he took it away just as she tried to.
“Please,” Luna whined. “Husband.”
His knuckle ran over her pussy lips and pressed against her clit, and she couldn’t help her moan.
“Wife,” he whispered back.
And he pulled his hand away!
Luna reached for his wrist, completely impatient, and he laughed.
“So impatient!” he clicked his tongue.
She kicked the couch, and he pushed her hand away from his own, holding her in place.
“Behave, wife,” he taunted her.
She pouted, and his touch moved right up her torso, pushing her shirt up with it, and Luna knew too well the way he hoisted her up with an arm on her back, dragging the fabric over her belly and her chest right as his lips came to her tit.
Her breasts were so sensitive since he came back. Maybe even before, but she hadn’t paid attention.
“Cato,” she moaned.
His lips curled against her skin as his teeth dragged over her poor nipple as she squirmed, hot between her thighs.
He didn’t relent, sucking onto her, holding her in place as she writhed in his grip. By the time he changed to the other side, she was moaning wordlessly and her underwear was probably fucking soaked.
“Cato,” she reached for his arm, his grip too strong to escape.
Cato just hummed against her chest, licking up her skin and flicking her nipple before sucking her flesh into his mouth.
Luna tried to close her legs, but he was much faster, slapping her inner thigh and spreading her more as she cried at the sting, not even taking his lips away.
Fuck, he was so fucking mean. Her pussy clenched around nothing, empty as his fingers squeezed her.
“Cato,” she cried, arching her body. “Please. Please. ”
His hand was free, couldn’t he just fucking touch her?
Cato let her breast go, his chin wet with saliva when he looked up at her, his eyes dangerous and predatory, and she gasped when he slapped her poor thigh again, holding her so tightly she could barely squirm.
“Ask nicely,” he commented.
She whined, spreading her legs as far as they would go, trying to thrust her hips and make his hand move higher.
“Please,” she begged. “Cato, please .”
Didn’t he know what she wanted?! What she needed?
He raised his hand, and instead of slapping her thigh, he smacked her right between her legs, practically over her clit, and she cried out and jumped in surprise.
It was maybe the third time he did that, and fuck it if it didn’t make her brain melt.
“With words,” Cato corrected her. “Not trying to shove that needy pussy on my hand.”
Her whole face burned in embarrassment as she panted, trying to hide her face in his neck, but he didn’t let her, resting his forehead on top of hers, looking into her eyes.
“Go on,” Cato nearly purred. “Be a good wife.”
She could feel herself getting wetter at that.
“Please,” she closed her eyes, her voice as soft as it could be. “Touch me.”
He didn’t relent, rubbing his nose on hers.
“Where?” his fingers caressed her inner thighs. “Where do you want it?”
God.
“My pussy,” she whimpered. “Please, Cato.”
He moved his hand up slowly, his knuckle caressing her up and down.
“Like this?” Cato asked, all sweet.
Oh, she wanted to fucking cry.
“Please,” Luna whined. “You know it!”
He kissed just her chin sweetly.
“I do?” her husband asked, practically fucking cooing at her, like she was a puppy. “I know what you want?”
She felt her eyes all wet, filling up with tears.
“Yes,” she practically whispered.
“You want me to touch your pussy?” he pressed his knuckle on her clit.
Luna whimpered.
“Inside me,” she pleaded, panting and whining.
He hummed along, not stopping his slow caresses.
“And what do you want inside you?” he circled her clit mindlessly.
She couldn’t even speak, thrusting her hips forward for more pressure, but he took his hand away.
“No, darling, use your words,” Cato insisted. “I can’t read your mind yet.”
Luna grabbed his wrist, clenching her hand around it.
“Take it off,” she whispered. “Please?”
He licked her lip and moved slowly, hooking his finger on the gusset of her panties and chuckling.
“Oh, my wife,” he purred. “Look at that.”
She wanted to hide even more as he pulled her panties down her thighs and legs, obediently letting him strip her.
Cato moved his head away from her, and she opened her eyes just in time to see him moving the fabric in his hand.
“Look at this,” he smirked, showing it to her. “I buy you all that pretty fancy underwear and what do you do with it? You soak it up.”
He clicked his tongue and Luna’s neck burned along with her face in her embarrassed flush. The gusset was shining completely, she couldn’t even look. But she did, and Cato didn’t even think before sticking out his tongue and licking up her wetness from the fabric, and she whimpered, even emptier now.
“Poor wife,” he looked at her face. “So wet you’ve ruined the pretty panties.”
Luna panted, trying not to pout more, and gasped when Cato moved his hand between her legs, caressing her wet lips with two fingers, and she felt her eyes moisten as small tears slipped down her face.
“My poor darling,” he mocked her, circling her entrance with the pad of his finger, and she moaned softly, unable to keep her sounds down. “I know better, don’t I?”
She panted, unable to tear her eyes from his.
“Please,” she whimpered. “Cato.”
His thumb gave her clit a wide circle.
“Don’t I?” he insisted.
“Yes,” she moaned. “Yes, Cato, yes.”
He pushed two fingers into her slowly, rubbing against the sensitive entrance of her cunt, and she practically sobbed in response as he curled them against her sweet spot.
Luna couldn’t help how loud her moan was, and he fucking mocked her by opening his mouth the way she did as she moaned.
“Like that?” he purred. “You like that, wife?”
She couldn’t even answer him, his fingers taking her whole mind, and he grinned when she only nodded.
“So pretty,” Cato licked his lips, his eyes moving right down her body.
The praise climbed up her spine and made her brain tingle.
“Why don’t you take that off, my pretty girl?” he told her. “So I see all of you while I give you what you need?”
She barely thought before tugging on her shirt, and though it was a bit of a struggle, she took it off and tossed it away, earning a very intense look from him.
It would never tire her, the way Cato looked at her like she was the hottest woman he had ever set his eyes on.
He moved his fingers slowly, keeping his eyes right on her as he moved his lips down to her chest again, kissing her raw nipple again before taking it in his mouth again, sucking and biting, making her brain go haywire with the double stimulation. Her eyes outrightly rolled back when he pressed his palm against her clit, and she couldn’t help the big moan that came out of her lips.
It was fucking heaven.
He played her like her body was an instrument, too well-versed in it to keep her wanting at all, and soon Luna was a squirming mess.
“You hear that?” he asked, his fingers moving fast, and it took her mind a minute to process what he was trying to make her listen to.
Squelching?
Wet-
“Oh, fuck,” she groaned.
Herself.
She squirmed, unable to keep her walls from clenching around him as she tried to hide her face into his neck. But he was faster, pushing his fingers into her hair and holding her right in place.
“What a good wife I have, don’t you think?” Cato praised as the knot in her belly tightened. “Taking my fingers so well in her needy cunt, like a good, good, good wife.”
Each time he repeated good she clenched more.
His eyes were right on hers, the beautiful blue almost gone in a pool of darkness, and she struggled to keep her own eyes open.
“No, no,” he pressed the heels of his hand against her clit when they fell closed. “Look at me.”
Her whole body roared in response.
“Cato,” she grabbed his shirt.
Please, she was so fucking close.
“Keep your eyes on me,” he commanded. “I wanna see.”
Luna squirmed more, her vision blurring with the tears.
“Please,” she stuttered. “Cato, please.”
She inhaled deeply, nearly dizzy as he kept moving, fucking her in and out, rubbing her everywhere.
“You want to cum on my fingers?” he asked, his voice too soft against her moans, too controlled when her mind was all his and not hers at all. “Is that why you’re squeezing me so sweetly?”
Luna nodded, panting, desperately clinging to him.
“Yes, Cato, please.”
He moved faster, keeping his eyes right on her, and Luna’s whole body just gave in to him, melting as she was pushed closer and closer and closer to the edge, and she could practically feel her foot slipping over it before he fucking pulled away.
She cried out at the loss of his fingers, her whole body shaking with the unfulfilled pleasure, and he laughed cruelly at her reaction.
Cato moved like a blink of an eye, so fast that her melted mind couldn’t notice. All she knew was that he was holding her wrists together, her hips were pinned down and her back was against his chest.
“Cato!” she cried out, trying to free her own hands as her hips thrust against nothing. “Please!”
His cock twitched against her ass, already hard in his sleeping pants.
“Please, what, my darling?” he spoke against her ear. “You had asked me to touch you, I did. I gave your pretty pussy my fingers, I touched your pretty clit and sucked your pretty tits… what else could you want?”
Her voice was broken and raw when she found it.
“I want to cum,” she pleaded, her head falling on his shoulder. “Please.”
He laughed, completely amused by her suffering.
“Oh, my poor wife,” Cato lamented. “You want to cum? You do?”
Luna pressed her ass against him, trying to at least get him to break.
“Please, please,” she pleaded. “Cato.”
He raised her hands, moving them all the way to behind his neck.
“Keep them right there,” he commanded, kissing her cheek.
Luna squirmed. God, please, she couldn’t take more teasing.
“It is a craving, my little wife?” he caressed her torso, running his hand over her belly before going up to her tits, squeezing both. “Are you craving cock?”
He pinched her nipples, tugging on them.
“Am I keeping a poor,” he spoke slowly, twisting them. “Sweet, needy, pregnant woman from her biggest craving?”
She tried to move her hips more, but he just moved a hand down, holding her in place.
“My darling, poor you,” he mocked her.
His fingers came right between her legs again, caressing her faintly.
“I mean, you are making a big, big mess,” he noted. “Got my pants all messed up already, my darling.”
She pushed her fingers into his hair to stop herself from moving her own hands.
“What are you going to say to the cleaner?” Cato asked mockingly. “That my wife is ruining her underwear and my clothes because she can’t stop craving cock?”
Her whole face burned, and he exhaled longingly.
“Well, I can’t deny a craving,” Cato sighed, dramatic. “I did promise you that, right? Can you imagine if the baby came out looking like… well. Me. ”
Well, Luna didn’t have time to laugh or think about whether the old midwife joke was funny or not, he was already moving her.
The couch stretched under her body as he laid her down on it, expanding to at least a small bed – the size of the bed they first had in her little studio.
Cato slipped to her side, turning her to her side and slipping right behind her, moving his lips right to her neck.
“Say please again, darling?” he kissed her earlobe. “Please, husband, fuck me with your cock?”
She closed her eyes, melting as his hand came around her side, squeezing her breast.
“Please, husband,” Luna moaned. “Fuck me with your cock?”
He let out an amused chuckle behind her, so soft she only knew it because she felt it.
“So obedient,” he praised her, squeezing her neck, pinching her nipple, tugging and twisting it for effect, making her moan in reaction.
“Cato,” she panted.
“Shh,” he kissed her cheek. “It’s okay, my darling, you were so good, weren’t you? Waited for me so well…”
He moved his free hand down, and Luna’s eyes fell closed as she felt his cock brushing against her wet lips, and Cato teased her with the tip, up to her clit and down to her entrance before going up again.
“Please,” she whined, reaching for his arm. “Please, no more teasing.”
She couldn’t take it. Please.
“My poor sweet wife,” Cato kissed her cheek. “It’s okay, it’s okay...”
The tip of his cock finally – finally, God, fuck – breached her.
He pushed inside so patiently it burned her up, and the sound that left her lips was a raw moan – desperate really, but she couldn’t control it.
Cato moaned into her neck right before taking his hand up again, pressing her whole body against his.
“Like, this, darling?” he moved his hips slowly, fucking her ever so gently.
Luna’s eyes practically rolled back.
“Cato,” she pleaded.
But he just adjusted her to make it easy to touch both her breasts, and Luna gasped out when he simply moved back to playing with her nipples, running his short nails over the tips and making her mad with pleasure and frustration.
“Love how sensitive these have become,” he bit her earlobe. “Could spend a whole day playing with them, making my sweet wife so needy.”
Luna clenched around him, moving her hips, trying to thrust them back to his.
“Please,” she cried, breathless, trying to grab his hand and push it down between her legs. “Cato, please .”
His grip was soft enough that she could drag his hand down her torso and to her pussy, and Cato chuckled into her neck, slapping her thigh.
“ Please, please, please ,” he mocked her. “Don’t I have my cock inside you, wife?”
She whined, trying to move his hand again, but he didn’t budge, pushing his cock all the way in slowly and pulling out just as gently.
“I was so excited, thinking all about the ways I can touch you and make you feel good,” Cato taunted her. “How I would spend my day worshipping your tits, making you cum just from them...”
Luna felt herself squeezing him just from the thought of it.
“But you are so impatient,” he slapped her other thigh. “So demanding…”
He moved the hand he had on her breast up, wrapping it around her neck, and she felt her whole body twitching.
It was how he did it, how he teased her when they were like that.
A hand on her neck and another on her clit. He never squeezed or hurt her – it was about power.
“What do you want?”
Well, he knew what she wanted. He always knew.
And he never gave in.
“I want to cum,” she pleaded again. “Cato, please.”
It wasn’t fair.
He turned her head to make her look at him, and Luna practically melted when their eyes met.
“Of course,” Cato gave her lips a little peck. “How can I ever deny you?”
And then he did it all at once.
His hips picked up pace as his finger came right to her clit, and she practically screamed in reaction to him, fighting to keep her eyes on his as he gave in to her pleas.
“Like this, wife?” he practically growled.
The muscles of her torso tightened in reaction.
“Yes, Cato, yes.”
She fucking ascended into the high of space.
Luna still remembered when they were starting, when he was a bit too big and she was a bit too nervous, but how eager he was for this – for what they had now.
“Always takes me so fucking well,” he rubbed her clit in tight circles. “Always so good for my cock, aren’t you? It’s why you’re giving me a baby.”
Her eyes nearly crossed, the pleasure pumping in her blood.
“My sweet darling, my sweet wife,” Cato moaned into her sin. “Drenched every single time I get inside her, so easy to arouse… just a couple of kisses and firm touches, right baby? Almost like you want me to put another baby inside you already.”
Luna moaned out, the thought making her drift even more.
Another baby, yes. He could give her as many babies as he wanted.
“Let’s make you cum first,” Cato rubbed his nose on hers. “Get that sweet cunt to milk me.”
Her toes curled against the soft fabric of the couch, and his finger didn’t stop, smart and trained on her body, and she shook under him.
“Cato,” she pleaded, feeling the knot in her belly so tight it was all she could feel.
“Go on, darling, cum on my cock.”
Maybe she said his name – maybe she just said something that didn’t make any sense in English. Luna just became a mess, her cries flowing out in pants as she rolled her hips, desperate, floating.
“There you go, there you fucking go,” Cato slammed his cock into her, hips hitting her ass so hard and fast the sound of flesh against flesh echoed through the room.
And Cato didn’t stop.
Not with his hips, not with his fingers, and he took his hand from her neck to play with her nipples again, teasing and twisting and taunting her beyond her mind’s power of processing.
He was everywhere and everything at once.
It overwhelmed her in the first few times – how big and good it felt when he focused on her, so eager.
And it overwhelmed her in a completely different way now.
Luna could barely do more than breathe and moan, limp, being thoroughly fucked and used by him.
“Please,” she panted. “Please, it’s too much.”
Cato’s fingers twisted her poor nipple, and she yelped in shock.
“I can’t-”
“Again,” he commanded, the circles on her clit tight and fast. “You’re gonna cum again.”
Her eyes filled with tears and she couldn’t help the way her whole body sobbed as he pushed her further and further, completely out of control.
“Ca- ah,” she cried.
He slammed himself into her hard and tight.
“Cum on my cock again.”
Luna did so, her throat dry and her cheeks wet when she did, and Cato squeezed her breast so tightly it was bound to leave a bruise.
She was still riding her high when he pushed her and spread her legs wide open, slamming his cock into her as his hand held her hips in a bruising hold, hurting her deliciously.
His face came to her neck and he sunk his teeth tight into her skin, moaning right into it as he filled her to the goddamn brim.
He kept fucking her, slowly down little by little, into they were just wrapped around one another quiet, panting, and she rested against his chest when Cato leaned in and kissed her tear-stained cheeks, probably tasting them.
“I love you,” he whispered, nuzzling her skin. “I love you.”
She rested her head on his shoulder, panting and sniffing as Cato rubbed and kissed her skin, and she squeezed his shoulders when he wrapped his arms around her waist and picked her up to go to bed.
They had taken the biggest bedroom on the second floor, right beside his office and across a nice bathroom.
It was better than the top floor room – much closer to everything in the house, less isolated and with way less empty space.
When the baby was born, they were going to keep his crib by their bed, and there was a room nearby when little Cato was old enough to stay in his own bed.
Luna was half-sure they'd spend years with their little Prince between them in the bed anyway, even after he was weaned out.
Caro held her for a long time before leaving her, and Luna exhaled as she rested on the cool mattress, feeling the sweat drying on her skin, and opened her eyes when he came back into the room.
Oh, he was a vision. Tall and strong, chiselled like he was sculpted by hand on every little inch of his body.
She tried to keep it off her mind that in some ways, he was.
"Open up," he spoke softly, coming to her.
Luna spread her legs, and winced in surprise when he cleaned her skin with a soft warm cloth - she was still sensitive!
"So sensitive..." he spoke softly, running it over her thighs. "My enduring mystery of a woman..."
She chuckled but kept herself in place, and he kissed her ankle before stepping away.
Luna spread herself on the bed for a moment, relaxing on the cool, soft sheets.
They had good sheets.
He came back and slipped into bed by her side, settling a little lower, resting his head right by her belly before cradling it in his big hand.
Luna looked down at him, and his eyes distant as he ran his fingers over her side.
"Is he awake?"
She chuckled. Oh, God, she hoped not!
Their baby was a little bit of a night owl. He usually woke up around eleven at night and made sure she knew he was unsatisfied that the night was for sleeping.
“No,” she reached down, petting his hair. “But I’m sure he’ll be awake soon.”
Cato didn’t say anything, only brushing his lips against her skin.
“Do you think he’ll like me?” he asked suddenly, raising his eyes to meet hers.
Luna’s shoulders fell in surprise, and she felt herself softening as she petted his hair.
“Of course he will!” she affirmed.
But Cato shook his head, looking away from her.
“I hate my dad’s guts,” he reminded her. “It might be a family curse.”
She moved her hand down to his cheek, caressing his skin, but he refused to meet her gaze.
“Your father deserves to have his guts hated,” she reminded him.
Luna knew enough about Mr Hadley, and she was very glad that even when he returned from his tenure as a Peacekeeper, he would be far away from them.
He would never meet their baby, and he wouldn’t ever insert his bitterness into their little family.
Cato kissed her belly slowly, as if he was doing it to their baby.
Luna ran her fingers up to his hair again, breathing out slowly.
“What are you thinking?” she asked.
She knew that face of his.
But Cato didn’t answer for a long time.
“The nightmare,” he mumbled.
Luna swallowed down, closing her eyes.
He had many nightmares since the games.
The Trackerjackers, the explosion of the mines, the death of Clove, the mutants, the fight with Thresh…
But that wasn’t what he was speaking of. It was an old nightmare, not from the games.
“His hands,” he hissed, eyes completely unfocused as his face curled in anger and he took his own hand to his neck. “Squeezing her as she fought him, like she was some enemy. Not his wife!”
Cato almost spat the word, and Luna was quick to move down, pulling him up, and holding his face in her hands.
She caressed his cheeks as he grimaced, never one to cry, but she just knew him. She knew it hurt.
Luna kissed his skin, all over his face – every bit she would reach.
“You’re not him,” she affirmed, emphatic. “You’ll never be him.”
Notes:
Ages of character now (Late 74):
Luna: 18 years old (about to turn 19)
Cato: 19 years old
Chapter 3: YEAR 3: I had a dream I got everything I wanted (1/2)
Summary:
Luna and Cato open their house to an interview after three years of privacy.
Or: Three years into their marriage, Cato and Luna are tested once again.
Notes:
Check the end notes for details such as what we imagined with the visuals, and details of age.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Hunter was Cato’s carbon copy, just like his big brother.
Oh, it made Luna feel like she was a copying machine.
Two boys, a bit over 11 months apart.
Seeing Cato holding a baby did things to her. Very unspeakable things.
And apparently, breastfeeding was not a reliable way to prevent another pregnancy.
But she loved her little boys to bits, and it meant they would grow close together and never be alone in the world.
She kissed the spot between Hunter’s little faded eyebrows.
Oh, her poor eyebrow-less baby, with his lemon-blonde hair and sky-blue eyes.
He clenched his hand on her dress, lips never leaving her breast while he watched her.
Wide awake.
Luna rocked him softly, the sounds of people downstairs unmistakable.
“You need to sleep,” she hummed. “You know that.”
But she would lie if she didn’t admit she was happy to have a reason not to come down.
They had visitors from the Capitol again, with cameras and two reporters ready to get the biggest news of their little family. Well, not so little.
“You’re helping me hide, aren’t you?” Luna cooed him, and her baby boy’s eyes blinked slowly, all soft as he clearly fought to stay awake.
He was nearly a year and a half already, so grown.
Mum had said once how quickly babies stopped being babies. It felt like just yesterday he was a tiny bundle in his father’s arms, but he was so big already – walking and talking with his babbles. Running like he needed to waste the energy of a body four times as big as his.
“You’re lucky you are so beautiful,” Luna whispered, moving her hand to his hair, already growing out quickly.
Oh, maybe he would have it a little long, like Prince. She didn’t want to cut her oldest's hair yet, he was such a little baby still.
Kids only got haircuts when they had to go to school.
A knock on the door made both of them jump, and Hunter pulled from her breast, curious as the door creaked open.
“Darling?” Cato put his head into the room. “They’re waiting.”
His eyes moved right down to her chest as milk dribbled down, and when she followed his gaze, there was Hunter, smiling brightly.
“Dada,” he smiled.
Luna grimaced.
“He was practically asleep,” she sighed.
Cato grimaced.
“I’m sorry,” he spoke softly. “Five minutes?”
Luna looked down at Hunter as her husband stepped into the room, closing the door and leaning into him, giving his round cheek a kiss.
“Why aren’t you asleep?” he teased him, tickling his fat little belly. “It’s bedtime. Night night. ”
Oh, Hunter giggled right at him.
“Night night,” their little parrot repeated.
Luna sighed – they were so adorable.
Cato leaned in, kissing her forehead.
“I’ll get the nanny.”
“No,” she stopped him. “You know I would rather we put him to sleep, not the nanny.”
Their boys spent a lot of their time with their nannies. And she had no complaints about the two women, they knew what they were doing and adored their kids to bits. But having so much work to do with her statues and Cato’s status as a Victor – and what it meant at both their district and the Capitol – meant that their time with the boys could be limited.
“Alright,” her husband conceded softly. “I’ll offer them the cake.”
Oh, yes, yes. They had some fruit cake. That was a good idea.
Those people ate like their stomachs were the size of the whole land.
Cato walked out and she stepped to the window as she moved to cover herself, but Hunter attached to her breast right away.
He was going to empty her soon enough – and Prince had already emptied her other breast just before him.
She sang softly to her boy, watching the garden all prepared for their interview, already grimacing at the thought of being under the warm sun – but it meant they were outside of the house, so it was better.
It surprised her, though, to see the five already there, sipping on drinks and giggling together, poking the strawberries bushes as if they had never seen anything edible growing before, and the damn woman who was so happy to show her the fucking kitchen turned to the window and grinned in excitement at the sight of her.
Augusta.
Luna moved back so quickly that it startled Hunter.
Fucking hell.
She pulled the curtain to hide them, patting Hunter’s back as she tried to keep a good smile for him.
It took her quite a bit of time, but his little eyes closed slowly, and his lips let her go. Slowly, Luna moved down and set him in his crib, adjusting him and watching him move slowly to his favourite position, with his arms and legs all out.
Her little spreader, he was going to grow out of his crib in a damn minute.
She covered herself up again, grateful that Ellyn was mindful enough to make her dresses all baby-ready – padded enough to absorb anything and resistant to milk stains, somehow. Those bras she got her were heaven-sent.
Luna checked herself in the mirror, the make-up and hair never ceasing to make her feel strange – curls , Ellyn always put her in those loose curls, though she had given up bleaching her hair – and made sure she was at least presentable.
She put on a smile at the mirror, tilting her head.
No dead eyes.
There.
Just one hour and it would be it.
She adjusted her clothes and stepped to the door, knowing the Nanny would set everything else up.
Alright. Okay.
She would just open the door, walk down, give that damn interview and they would leave.
That was it.
And then, Luna opened the door, and she was faced with Augusta.
“Hi!” the woman squealed.
She stared at her, wide-eyed and shocked.
Why?
“Hi?” she spoke slowly, keeping her voice slow. “I thought you were in the garden.”
Why wasn’t she in the garden?
Augusta smiled widely, her lips painted the same pink as her hair.
“I was!” she confirmed, nearly squeaking. “But I saw you from the window and I thought I could come say hi. Is it your baby’s room?”
Luna moved stiffly and closed the door right when she was leaning in and trying to peek inside, rushing to step into the corridor.
A few steps away from them, Hunter’s nanny was right there.
“My youngest,” she said quickly. “He was taking a bit of time to sleep.”
Augusta giggled too happily.
“Oh, he looked so cute from the window,” she raised her hand, reaching to touch Luna’s face but not quite.
Luna saw her other hand moving to the doorknob and pushed herself right in front of it.
“He’s asleep,” she interrupted her, her voice as stiff as her mood. “You know how kids are, anything will wake them up.”
Just then, Cato stepped on the last step of the stairs and looked at her with guilty eyes.
“Augusta,” he greeted, as charming as ever. “I was wondering where you had run off to.”
She giggled, turning completely to him and ignoring Luna right away, and she had to hold back from rolling her eyes when her husband bent and kissed the hand of the pink-haired reporter.
Well, honestly, it was better to watch her try to charm him than to watch her try to push herself into Hunter’s room.
“You know I can’t help my curiosity,” she put a hand over her chest. “I haven’t caught a close sight of your beautiful wife since the Victory Tour.”
Cato guided her off, and Luna stepped to the nanny.
“You can lock the door if you need to, just don’t let anyone come hound him,” she whispered.
Maybe Cato was a Victor and she had to be by his side every now and then, but not the boys.
Their boys were children, she would not parade them on TV like a circus attraction.
“Oh, look at that,” Augusta stopped mid-stairs. “Is this your family?”
Luna clenched her teeth together.
The interview. They were meant to be doing an interview.
It was not a house show, it was an interview!
They had made the big house into a home, and that meant decorating it, putting up pictures and making it personal.
So, yes. She had pictures of her parents and siblings: Mum and Dad, Jupiter and Juno’s graduating pictures, some pictures of them in the academy and things like that.
“My parents,” Luna told her. “And my brother and sister.”
Augusta straight up pulled the picture from the wall, turning to look at her and putting it up by her side, comparing her to it.
“Oh, you look just like your father!” she exclaimed. “But your mother has such beautiful blonde hair.”
Luna grimaced. She did, yes. Mum had beautiful blonde hair and blue eyes. Luna, on the other hand, had taken after her father’s colours. She had his not-brown-not-blonde hair and his brown eyes, and her skin with a slight pink to it that made Ellyn outrightly throw away clothes they had made for her before her marriage to Cato – something about her colour palette being completely wrong.
“Beautiful family,” she praised, putting the frame back in place without a care.
She gritted her teeth as she moved to adjust it to the right place – aligned with the other pictures, and not crooked.
“Have you ever sculpted them?” she called for her. “Oh, this is a beautiful bust!”
And again, she moved her hand to lift it.
But it was a bust! Made of stone.
“Oh, dear!” she giggled, almost dropping it. “Is this you, Cato?”
Cato held it quickly, putting his hands right under hers.
“Well, you know how it is when your Lady is an artist,” he exclaimed. “You become quite the constant subject.”
Luna rushed to the bust, adjusting the position.
“Please, be careful,” she mumbled.
Augusta giggled as if the concept of boundaries was completely foreign to her.
“Of course, my darling! I’m just so fascinated by everything, it’s so...” she wavered her hand slowly. “Rustic and… creative. So charming.”
Luna looked straight at Cato, barely holding her anger in.
He knew she hated when people took things from their right place.
“Why don’t we go sit down?” he offered quickly. “The team is waiting for us.”
Augusta smiled sweetly at him.
“Of course, of course,” she agreed. “We can’t wait for your new announcement.”
She took in a deep breath.
The fucking announcement.
Cato moved to Luna’s side quickly, taking her hand and kissing it, giving her soft puppy eyes.
“Just an interview,” he told her. “And they’ll leave.”
Luna breathed out, letting herself be guided, and a maid stepped to them with a tray of drinks.
“Water, ma’am?”
Water would be great.
She picked up a glass as they walked off to the covered gazebo by the garden, where the boys loved playing. It did them good to get some sun in the mornings.
“Luna!” Tiberius exclaimed as she stepped down. “Oh, it’s so good to see you.”
He strode to her quickly, grabbing her right away and squeezing her in a hug.
She almost curdled within herself, like milk left out in the sun.
“Tiberius,” she exhaled.
Luna knew their names, of course, she did.
They were the ones who covered everything to do with their family.
“Oh, look at you,” Tiberius exclaimed, pushing his nose to her neck suddenly. “Oh, I forgot how good you smelled.”
She forced herself to smile, pulling away from him and grabbing Cato’s hand to squeeze.
“It’s so nice to have you here,” she welcomed him.
It wasn’t, no.
“Look at you,” he stepped away, looking at her from head to toe. “Look at her! Barely a day older than when we met, barely an inch after two babies!”
Luna squeezed Cato’s hand, turning to look at him.
Why?
Just… why?
Well, Luna was a mother, but she didn’t mean she was without her vanities.
Cato had access to a lot of good things. Some of them were creams and home treatments that made her feel good. And she was young, she was 21. Did they expect her to look like a grandmother?
"Thank you," she spoke between teeth anyway.
"You must see her mother's picture. She is gorgeous!" Augusta exclaimed, grinning sickly. "And so young. It must be a family thing to start early."
"Let's sit down," Cato pointed at the spot they had prepared for the interview.
She didn’t say anything as she took her seat on the outdoor cushioned chair by her husband’s side in the immaculately set garden waiting for their guests, and she squeezed Cato’s hand when he reached to touch her knee over her soft dress, and Augusta and Tiberius adjusted on their seats as the big cameras adjusted to capture them.
“Oh, it is so good to be here again!” Tiberius exclaimed. “I remember when you two got married in this very same garden, how beautiful it was.”
“You remember the wedding? I remember the day we saw Cato arriving as a Victor and you waiting for him, with so much hope in your eyes and so much love for him!” Augusta exclaimed. “I showed her the kitchen myself when we arrived, Tiberius.”
Luna squeezed Cato’s hand more.
Yes, she had.
“It is such a privilege to be here again,” she looked straight at Luna. “At the home of our nation’s favourite Victor and his beautiful wife.”
Favourite was a stretch, and Luna knew it. Finnick was the favourite, and his popularity had maybe been shared by Cato, but it never dwindled. Of course, Finnick didn't show off his house and his wife - not that he had one, but he was able to keep his home away from those people.
“An honour indeed, Augusta,” Tiberius agreed, his voice perfectly glossy. “You two are famously private with your family, it makes every little glimpse the most special thing for us all. We only see Cato at the Capitol and your beautiful works of art. I pursued her latest sculpture, you know? A bust of our very own beloved President.”
Luna smiled stiffly. Yes, he had. And he was paying for it over the course of four years.
Those people of the Capitol always presented themselves so richly, like they had all of the disposable money in the world.
Well, they didn’t. Most of them took big loans constantly to pay for her work, or paid for things over a very long stretch of time – else they would be homeless.
“She is so talented, isn’t she?” Cato rubbed the back of her hand with a thumb. “I get lost watching her work.”
That made Luna's smile a little bit more genuine. Sculpting was always something that made her feel better - about everything, honestly.
“We enjoy keeping our lives private,” he shot them a charming smile. “You know, it’s all so… boring,” Cato decided. “With kids, the days blend in together and when you blink, it’s the end of the week, and you are just caught in an endless cycle of milk and diapers, and we would never want to bore our Capitol fans with such a tiring thing.”
Tiberius and Augusta giggled, absolutely amused by everything.
“I always forget you are already parents of two!” Tiberius exclaimed. “And I’m sure he is a very active father, is he not?”
Luna squirmed on her spot. They had to talk about the kids – it was a request they couldn’t refuse. And it was why they were there.
“He is,” she agreed. “We both put on the same amount of time with the kids.”
Their interviewers laughed like it was a joke.
“Oh, I’m sure, I’m sure,” Tiberius agreed. “And your oldest was… a boy, right?”
She dug her nails into the back of Cato’s hand.
“A boy,” he agreed. “He was born a few months after we got married.”
Tiberius chuckled like he was being told his most amusing secret.
“You two were famously impatient with starting your family,” he teased them, conspiratorial. “Luna, you announced it to the Capitol when Cato was still in the arena.”
She nodded stiffly.
Yes.
It was a strategy, to give the Capitol something to look forward to – and look at that, it had turned her life into a spectacle.
But it had also been a part of bringing Cato home. Thresh’s family didn’t have a strategy for themselves, no like their team did – so the sponsors had an easy choice.
“I did,” she agreed. “I was honoured to have such good news delivered to Cato by Caesar Flickerman.”
No, she wasn’t. Caesar knew before her whole family did, it was humiliating.
“And you have another,” Augusta continued, grinning. “Who I distinctively saw being cuddled up and fed today before the cameras were rolling!”
Luna nodded stiffly.
“Yes, our second.”
Augusta’s eyes glinted mischievously.
“Is it a girl?” she asked.
Luna felt her body tense even more – as if that was possible. She knew Hunter was a boy, did she need to dig?
“A boy,” she told them.
Augusta let out a sound of pity.
“I’m sure you can try one more time for a girl,” she told them. “I know Cato wants a little Princess to dot on as well.”
She stared as Augusta turned right to Tiberius, overly excited.
“You should have seen him, he’s all blonde just like his father,” she giggled. “You like keeping the kids’ hair long? The boy's hair is pretty long.”
Luna raised her eyebrows. What?
“Well, they are little kids,” Cato interjected. “Toddlers. Have you ever tried keeping a toddler quiet? Especially one of ours?” he laughed nervously. “And, you know, they are mama’s boys.”
Before anyone could answer, though, Tiberius spoke up.
“Actually, cut, cut,” he waved his hand, taking a handkerchief and wiping his brow. “This isn’t working, everyone.”
Luna frowned, confused.
What?
“It is so warm,” he looked at them and then at Augusta. “Aren’t you warm?”
Cato inhaled deeply, and she turned to look at him.
Well, it was June. June was a warm month.
“Are you sure?” Cato asked. “The weather is great, and the light is beautiful here at this time of the day.”
Well, his argument was absolutely ignored.
“I am very warm,” Augusta interjected, fanning herself dramatically. “And you’re getting sweaty already, we don’t want you two shining with sweat, darling, we want you shining with happiness!”
One of their assistants chuckled happily.
“And highlighter,” the young woman – not much older than Luna, she realised – added.
The Capitol group cackled.
“The house is so much fresher,” Augusta spoke. “And you have a lovely pair of couches and armchairs, I’m certain we can be so much more comfortable there.”
A nice breeze brushed against Luna’s face, perfectly cooling and carrying the smell of the ever-multiplying strawberries, but no one else seemed to feel it.
“And the wind on our microphones is so hard to block out,” Augusta added. “Don’t you agree?”
It wasn’t a question. It sounded like one, but it wasn’t one.
That was a command.
And they had to obey.
“Of course,” Luna mumbled out. “We should settle inside.”
Her stomach knotted as they stood up, but she couldn’t swallow around the nausea.
God.
“Excuse me a minute,” she requested.
Cato let her hand go and she strode inside, stepping up to the nearest bathroom, vomiting into the toilet.
Her body was damn sensitive these days.
The usual first trimester was torture – she knew it all too well.
She washed her mouth, wetting her face for a moment with some cool mist before drying it, and closing her eyes.
Just another month and it would be gone.
“Oh, you’ll love to see these, Tiberius, look,” she heard Augusta’s voice.
Luna’s whole body stiffened, and she had to turn to the toilet once more when another wave of nausea stopped her from leaving.
By the time she was actually able to leave the bathroom, they were in the corridor, filming their pictures on the walls.
If it was for Luna, their walls would have been stripped bare before the visits, but she couldn’t do it. So, the kids' pictures were taken away and hidden in their bedroom.
That, of course, left their own pictures, with her family, of her pregnancy, and other private moments exposed.
She clenched her fists at her sides.
Augusta and Tiberius were walking around like they were at a candy store.
Luna didn’t get a single word out before someone was already up on her face and fixing her make-up.
“Oh, look at you as a child,” she crooned, taking a picture of Cato from the wall. “And Luna!” she pulled another.
She set them side to side in front of the camera, and Luna clenched her jaw.
“Your eyebrows,” the makeup artist pressed his fingers to the spot between them. “Oh, dear, you need Botox.”
Luna pulled back.
“It’s alright, my face is fine,” she spoke out, clipped with anger. “Let’s sit down.”
But if Augusta and Tiberius had heard her, they didn’t listen.
“Who do you think their kids resemble the most? Mommy or daddy?” she asked dramatically.
Tiberius let out an exclamation of surprise.
“Look!”
He put the pictures on top of the drawers and took another photo.
“Is this the day of the birth?”
She turned in their direction so quickly it startled the make-up artist.
“Such a precious little baby!” Augusta cooed the photo.
Luna was rushing to them when Cato took the photo from their hand.
“It’s our oldest,” he spoke quickly. “He’s adorable.”
He held onto the frame, practically hiding it.
“Oh, he actually left some toys scattered around in the morning, I should go pick them up.”
And the two followed right after him, which gave Luna a moment to breathe.
Sit down. They had to sit down.
She put the frames back on their spot, the itch to keep things in place too hard to ignore.
They filmed Cato as he picked up the two – exactly two – toys that were left in the living room, and when she turned to look at them Augusta outrightly plucked the little wooden car from Cato’s hand.
Luna had made that little car herself for Hunter when she was pregnant.
She was too pregnant and Cato didn’t want her anywhere near the sculpting machine, so she had to do something with her time – which turned out to be exactly the same thing she did with stone, except on wood.
“Look at that, so rustic!” she exclaimed. “How charming, don’t you think?”
“Adorably odd,” Tiberius exclaimed. “Just like our dear artist.”
Luna rushed to Cato’s side and took the toy when Augusta practically dropped it without a care, her fellow interviewer unceremoniously walking through their corridors and getting deeper into the house.
“And you have such a beautiful home,” he exclaimed, sounding surprised. “So humble, but also so big, it’s a lovely dichotomy.”
Humble. They thought their house was humble.
And everywhere they moved, they touched everything and put it somewhere it didn’t belong.
Luna rushed after the two while Cato took their side, readjusting the positions of her house decorations. Little figurines, the paintings, the vases, the mirrors…
“And who is this beautiful boy?” Augusta exclaimed out of a sudden.
Her whole body turned to face it and Luna’s heart leapt and dropped right to her stomach.
Prince’s nanny was frozen on her spot like a deer in headlights, and Augusta was hovering over her right away, staring at her oldest with overly eager eyes.
“Hello, little man!” she welcomed him with an overly sweet coo.
Luna’s feet ran faster than the speed of her thoughts, but Augusta was already prying Prince from the young Nanny’s arms as her son looked at her with shock and pure horror.
“Hello, you!” Augusta exclaimed. “You are so adorable!”
Luna pulled Prince from her the second before her son started crying, probably terrified of such a strange-looking woman he had never seen before and was already trying to pick him up.
He hid in her neck, screaming in her ear as he clung to her.
“Mama!” he sobbed.
Oh, her poor boy.
What did those Capitol hyenas think he was? A pet? A toy?
“Oh, no, little man!” Augusta exclaimed, hovering over them shamelessly. “You must be good for the camera!”
That was it. That was her limit.
“No!” she shielded him, her voice louder than she even expected. “Get away from him!”
The whole room went quiet, and they all turned to her like she was saying the most absurd of all things, and Prince’s little hand clenched on her sleeves as he sobbed.
“He is a baby, he is not a dog making tricks!” she hissed back to them.
Cato rushed quickly around, clearly trying to deflate the tension.
“Let’s set the camera in the right place,” he spoke up quickly. “Tiberius, Augusta-”
“Well, we didn’t mean to scare him,” Augusta interrupted him, looking at her without an ounce of shame. “He is a lovely boy.”
Luna’s blood boiled.
Prince was a child! It didn’t matter that he was a beautiful child, he was a child!
“He is tired and hungry and scared!” she bit back, her voice rising against her will. “You don’t touch my children! You don’t go around touching someone’s child! This is my house! It’s already enough that you are touching everything, that you are touching my face like I’m a public exhibition, you are not dragging my children into this!”
“Darling-” Cato called, resting his hand on her back.
“No!” she pushed him away, practically screaming, unable to even control herself. “We were meant to sit down! We are going to sit down, and if they want to interview us, they are going to interview me and you and that is it!”
Luna stepped into the kitchen before they could say anything else, too angry to even look at Cato, and slammed the door with herself and the nanny inside.
Oh, the poor girl looked terrified as she stared at her, but all she could do was rock Prince as he cried.
“It’s okay,” Luna cooed her little boy, breathless, shaking. “It’s okay, baby.”
She turned to the nanny, finding her pale and frozen.
“Get him something to drink,” she hissed.
She kissed Prince’s wet cheek
“It’s okay, baby,” Luna hummed. “It’s alright.”
Deep down, she knew it wasn’t the girl’s fault.
The interview was supposed to happen in the garden, away from the house. No one was meant to be in the corridor.
But it was the cook who moved, not the nanny, and gave her a small bottle.
“His favourite coconut water, ma’am,” he told her.
Luna nodded, kissing Prince’s little temple, trying to calm herself down.
She looked back at the door, but no one attempted to open it.
She wasn’t dumb.
The Capitol did have some power and access over them. Cato was a Victor and they had access to him. She was an artist and she had given them limited access to her because she was his wife.
But they were not going to drag their children into that fucking circus.
She had no obligation to show her sons to anyone!
Luna stayed in the kitchen until Prince had calmed down, gathered herself up with great effort, and helped him drink his coconut water before kissing his cheek and leaving.
Everything was different when she arrived in the living room again.
Augusta and Tiberius had sat down, sipping on tea and giggling with Cato as the cameras rolled.
“Oh, my darling!” her husband smiled up to her, charming and terribly fake. “I’m glad you were able to join us again.”
Luna straightened her back and put a smile on her face as she strode to them, feeling like a fucking robot.
Cato patted the couch next to him, and she sat down.
“We were having a wonderful time,” he affirmed.
Of course.
Augusta and Tiberius grinned, beckoning her.
“And Cato here told us you two have a very important and wonderful announcement to make,” she gestured to them.
Of course.
Luna breathed in, crossing her legs as Cato rested his hand on her knee.
Of course.
“Well...” she took his hand, and turned to look at him.
He raised his eyebrows, waiting for her to speak.
It was fair. He had just picked up after she had stormed off.
Luna squirmed on her spot, squeezing his hand with two of hers.
“We are expecting another baby,” she told them.
Luna barely finished the sentence before Augusta gasped dramatically, her hand moving to her chest and then her mouth.
“Oh, this is fabulous!” she exclaimed.
“It’s absolutely marvellous!” Tiberius exclaimed. “Everyone in the Capitol is going to be so overjoyed!”
“And you chose us to tell the news?” Augusta gasped.
Her eyes filled up with tears while Luna tried not to give in to the bitterness growing in her throat. How fucking fake.
The woman cried, and Tiberius gave her a handkerchief to dry her tears.
“Cato and Luna, growing their beautiful family!” he exclaimed. “Our favourite couple, the epitome of perfection.”
Luna’s hand squeezed Cato’s as the cameras clicked and whirred around, capturing the two of them, and she was surprised when he turned to her and pulled her face so she would look at him, leaning in when he did, kissing him back when he started it.
They closed the interview and took pictures of them together – with requests to pose, which honestly, after everything, she didn’t even mind – and it earned them happy squeals, claps and all manner of happy sounds.
Finally – after what felt like an eternity – Augusta and Tiberius looked satisfied, rising from their seats as the cameras and blinding lights started being packed.
“We’ll be sure to make this announcement absolutely glorious, ” Tiberius affirmed his tone dripping with patronising approval. “No one needs to know of our distempers, darling.”
Before she could even answer his comment, he was already hugging her, wrapping his arm around her body and squeezing her for what felt too long, looking right into her eyes as he pulled back, making her freeze, shocked, as his eyes dragged down her body.
What?
“Thank you so much for welcoming us into your house,” he said at last.
“Of course,” Cato replied, his voice always steady. “We are always happy to share these moments with our dear friends of the Capitol.”
Luna just clenched her teeth, adjusting her dress right as Augusta moved toward her, taking her in another overly enthusiastic hug.
“Take care of yourself, dear,” she cooed, saccharine sweet. “And give those little ones all our love.”
Luna was left to nod stiffly and smile, finally freed from them as Augusta threw herself on Cato again, giggling, and they finally left.
Notes:
Ages of characters now:
Luna: 21 years old
Cato: 21 years old
Cato Gaius "Prince" Hadley II, born on the 3rd of February of 75th Hunger Games: 2 years and 3 months old
Hunter Hadley, born on the 19th of January of the year of the 76th Hunger Games: 1 year and 4 months old.
Chapter 4: YEAR 3: I had a dream I got everything I wanted (2/2)
Summary:
“Can’t you just be normal for one day?”
. . .
After the Capitol Interviewers leave, Luna and Cato deal with the aftermath of their visit.
Notes:
Check the end notes for details such as what we imagined with the visuals.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Luna fell seated on the couch the moment the door closed, finally able to lose the fake smile hurting her cheeks, and closed her eyes as she rested on the back of the cushions.
She rubbed her temples, as if she could massage that discomfort away.
She needed water. And food.
And to be out of that stupid dress.
The shoes were off of her feet when she heard the door of the kitchen creaking open, and the cook peeked into the room, looking at her, and Luna nodded softly.
“They are all gone.”
There was a moment of silence right before the sound of rushed little steps reached her, and she had to force a smile to her lips just in time for Prince to run into the room, much more awakened.
“Mama!” he called. “Mama, ugly monster gone?”
His question made her chuckle sadly.
Oh, her sweet boy.
She opened her arms for him, and Prince ran right to them.
Oh, his lemon-blonde hair was a beautiful mess, as pin-straight as ever.
“She’s gone,” Luna assured him. “Daddy is just sending her on her merry way.”
Cato was probably walking them down to the gates of Victor Village as they spoke, which she was grateful for.
If Luna wasn’t happy, then she couldn’t imagine what he was feeling.
“Hey,” she reached for him, taking his attention as she ran her thumbs over his face. “I’m so sorry this happened,” she told him. “That ugly woman should not have gone around like that and she should not have scared you.”
Prince looked up at her, his pretty blue eyes looking right at her.
He didn’t understand much, did he?
Prince was just a boy, not even three years old.
She pulled him close, kissing his chubby cheeks. The door opened with Cato and Prince left her, running to him, and she watched his face changing as he bent and picked him up.
“Oh, my little Prince!” he threw him up in the air.
“Daddy!” he exclaimed.
He started talking, a bit too distant for Luna to fully understand.
Some words were a little harder for him, most of what he said could only be understood by them and the nannies.
On Mum’s last call, Luna had to translate every little thing he said.
“I know, I know,” Cato pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’m sorry the ugly woman scared you.”
Prince complained in his own little language, very emphatic, and Luna could see how even in his annoyance Cato was trying not to laugh at their son’s attempt at holding a conversation.
“I know,” he agreed, his eyes very soft. “Exactly. So upsetting!”
The nanny walked into the room, still pale on the face, and Cato turned right to her.
“Take him to the playroom,” she told her. “We need some privacy.”
The girl nodded stiffly, picking Prince up, and she rushed off in quick steps as Cato strode to the couch area, looking exhausted.
“One interview,” Cato breathed out. “We had to get through one interview.”
Luna closed her eyes.
“Us,” she reminded him. “Not the boys.”
“They were not even filming the boys!”
She glared right at him.
They were not-
“She was touching the boys!” she grunted back.
"She was just playing with Prince!"
Cato turned right to her, and she pinched her nose.
Play with Prince? That was what he called that?
“She tried to get into Hunter’s room!” Luna bit back, her voice clipped. “She kept touching me, touching our pictures, acting like this was her house!”
Didn’t he understand that? Didn’t he see?
“And what is wrong with that?” Cato asked back, his voice growing louder. “You can’t take being annoyed for three hours so they can leave us be the rest of the goddamn time?”
Luna stood right up, the anger inside her bubbling.
“It’s my house!” she argued. “We agreed they could film in the garden and they made the whole day about them exploring everything they could touch!”
Cato knew she didn’t like people invading their space! Even his fucking prep team knew that!
“We talked about this!”
Her husband rubbed his face with two hands.
“We did!” he hissed back. “And you agreed with it and said you would behave !”
His words made her freeze. Behave . Like he was talking to one of their sons.
She stared at him.
“It was one hug!” Cato continued, sounding exhausted. “A lot of people hug you!”
“My family! My parents, my siblings, my husband and my children!” Luna argued back. “People I’ve known for ages, people I’ve given birth to!”
Prince and Hunter had not signed up for the life Cato had signed himself and Luna up to. They were children, they needed to be protected!
“And it was three hugs,” she argued back. “Three, not just one.”
Cato dropped his hands, throwing his head back like he was simply done.
“Can’t you just be normal for one day?”
She stopped, his words sharp and cutting into her.
Well, that was cruel.
Normal. As if she could simply flip a switch and be a good little wife, who acted like every other person, like she hadn’t been trying her best for years and failed!
Her eyes filled up with stinging tears. A slap on the face would have hurt less than that fucking word.
She clenched her teeth, and she could see the moment Cato’s face changed and he seemed to realise what he had said.
“Luna, I didn’t mean that,” he tried to apologise.
But she took a step back, stiff, crossing her arms over her chest.
“No, you said exactly what you meant.”
Luna turned away from him, feeling her eyes burning as she walked off, knowing better than to fall into tears in front of him right now.
“Luna...”
But she didn’t turn back to him.
It was fucking cruel of him, that was what it was.
Luna walked into her office, crossing her arms tightly, pressing her back against the door as she fell into tears, sobbing with her arms very tight against her body.
She was not normal. She would never be normal!
And what was so hard about what she wanted for her kids?
What was so wrong with not wanting her space invaded, to not want to be touched like she was some pet to be played with?
“Luna,” Cato spoke softly on the other side. “You know it’s not what I meant.”
She glared at the door, feeling her shoulders shaking.
Well, he’d spoken it very well for someone who didn’t mean the words that came out of his mouth.
“I know you’re just trying to keep the kids safe,” he insisted. “And it’s exhausting. They are exhausting. I know.”
They were, indeed.
She sniffed, and he turned the doorknob softly.
Luna stepped away, and he opened the door slowly, looking at her with the softest baby boy's eyes.
God, if there was a thing he was good at was making sons who looked exactly like that when they wanted to ask her to eat candy before lunch.
“I was really stupid,” he affirmed. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
She clenched her jaw.
Yes, he was.
Cato stepped up to her, caressing her cheek gently, wiping her tears with his soft fingers.
“You know I love you just like you are,” he affirmed.
Luna scowled, still looking away from him.
Sure, of course, he was gonna say that now that she was upset with him.
“I do,” he insisted, approaching her slowly, caressing her crossed arms with the tip of his fingers. “You are wonderful, delightful…”
She cringed at the word. They called her that – delightfully odd.
“Cato…”
“I love that you are odd!” he insisted.
She pulled her arm away, but he just grabbed her hand.
“I love your little quirks…” he insisted. “Even the ones that are hard to deal with.”
Luna looked up, and he was still looking at her with the prettiest puppy eyes.
“I didn’t mean to upset you,” he told her. “You know I say things without thinking sometimes, and we had such a hard day.”
Cato moved his hand up to her cheek again, drying her tears as his arm slowly uncrossed hers.
“You know I hate fighting with you,” he whispered, setting his eyes on hers. “And though I think you look adorable pouting…”
Luna rolled her eyes but softened her face as he touched her lower lip with his thumb.
“You know the rule, we shouldn’t go to bed upset.”
That made her raise her eyebrows, surprised.
“It’s barely midday,” she reminded him.
But yes, it was a rule from Mum and it covered their whole family – they couldn’t go to sleep upset with one another, everyone was meant to talk and reconcile.
“Never too early for a reconciliation,” he shrugged.
Luna sighed, and he smiled softly, moving his hands down to her waist, caressing her back.
“Come on…” he spoke softly. “You know you’ll feel better...”
That was his apology?
That she knew she was going to feel better?
Cato lowered his body to her, and Luna closed her eyes when she felt his nose running down her cheek and her neck.
“You smell so good today,” he purred. “You put on that perfume I like?”
Her skin shivered up in reaction, and Luna let out a little sound when she felt his lips crushing against her soft spot.
“In your pretty dress...”
She closed her eyes, feeling his hand moving right down her back and her hip, tugging on it slowly.
“Ellyn’s giving you all the baby easy clothes,” he sucked onto her sensitive skin. “So accessible...”
Luna sighed, closing her eyes as his fingers brushed against her naked thigh.
“I’m still upset,” she mumbled.
No, she wasn’t. Not really.
Cato moved his hand to her hips, squeezing her ass.
"You are?" he asked softly, sucking on her skin. "And how can I make my little wife forgive me for being stupid?"
His fingers grabbed her panties, tugging them down, his intentions so very clear.
It wasn't an apology, she knew that.
Cato was terrible at apologising, he barely ever said the words ' I'm sorry ' when he did something wrong.
And it didn't solve the problem...
"Spread your legs," he whispered into her ear.
Luna whined.
They should talk...
But she was so tired and his fingers were always so good, he always knew what to do.
Luna complied like the fool she was and gasped when his fingers caressed her clit in passing.
“What do you say, hm?” he pinched her poor bud. “How can I help my case?”
She sighed, trying hard to think of the question.
“You can...” she gasped as his thumb played with her softly. “You can make me forget?”
There was a moment of quiet as Cato’s fingers dug into her skin, holding onto her firmly like he so adored.
Cato breathed deeply into her skin, gripping her by her hips and Luna gasped when he turned her body around. Her chest was pressed right against the cool mirror, her skin shivering even under her dress as he pulled her hips back.
She was surprised when he dropped to his knees behind her, hiding under her dress and ripping her underwear without a second of hesitance.
“Cato!”
He held onto her hips, squeezing her in a bruising grip as his tongue ran over her seams, parting them so expertly it made her mind melt.
His hands ran down her thighs, squeezing and running his nails over her, and she had to hold back a louder sound.
God, the staff could walk in on them at any moment!
But he was restless and as mean as he’d always been, pulling and pulling it from her, like he wanted to drive her mad, licking up to her entrance and down to her clit like he’d been starved of it for years.
He lapped onto her, pushing two fingers into her just as his lips wrapped around her bud – not even teasing her – and her legs felt outrightly weak.
“Cato,” her head fell down.
Luna tugged on the front of her dress with a hand, trying to get at least a glimpse of him under the layers and layers of light fabric, but he mouthed at her more hungrily.
His licks and kisses were nothing like she felt him before – there was no teasing, no giving and then taking back, dangling the pleasure over her face before snatching it away. It was overwhelming, everything at once and unstopping.
She was shocked when her belly tightened with the telltale signs of her pleasure.
“Cato, please, please,” she whimpered.
Her knees buckled, but he held her right up, devouring her, brushing his teeth against her clit and making her gasp.
“Please, please,” she begged. “Cato, please.”
She was so close. He knew she couldn’t hold herself, why was he being so mean?
“I can’t hold it,” Luna moaned, trying to reach for him. “Cato-”
It wasn’t fucking fair.
Couldn’t he hear her?
“I need you inside me,” she pleaded, changing words. “Please. Please.”
Finally, he stopped, and she couldn’t help whimpering when he outrightly ran his nails down her thigh before pulling himself from behind her.
Her husband stood and she rested her forehead on the mirror, still whining as her body protested being pulled from pleasure so quickly.
But Luna paused when she opened her eyes. Cato was barely looking at her as he took off his belt, his face straight and blank.
She had never seen him like that. It made her blood freeze, how his eyes were blank and he looked…
Scary. Worrying.
Lifeless.
It was the only word she could think of that described his eyes perfectly – lifeless.
“Cato?” Luna called softly.
His gaze connected with hers through the mirror, and she saw the moment he took in a deep breath like he was… restarting, in some way.
“Are you okay?” she moved from the wall, ready to turn to him.
But her husband was quicker, wrapping his arms around her body and squeezing her close, keeping her facing forward.
“Shh,” he shushed her, kissing her neck. “My pretty wife.”
He ran his nose over her skin, kissing her back as his hand moved around her dress, pulling the fabric from over her chest and doing the same to her bra.
His short nails ran over her skin and she gasped when he pinched her nipple, breathing deeply against her skin like she was his first breath of oxygen after nearly drowning, and it made her shiver.
“Cato?”
He grabbed her face, turning her head and taking her lips in a deep, near-bruising kiss, taking her breath away.
She gasped into his mouth when he pushed himself into her, filling her up completely and easily from how wet she was already.
Luna practically melted into it, moaning when he pulled himself and started fucking her, every stroke hard and loud against her ass.
He pulled away from her lips, tugging on her dress to keep it up impatiently, and Luna yelped when she heard the sound of the fabric being ripped behind her, and Cato pushed it off of her arms crudely.
“Look at me,” he commanded.
She raised her eyes to meet his through the mirror, and his nostrils flared.
“Don’t close your eyes.”
He pulled away for no more than a couple of seconds, just enough for the dress to fall down fully, and he pushed himself all the way into her again.
Luna’s mind short-circuited, but he didn’t even care, grabbing her face and pushing his fingers into her mouth, holding her right in place.
She sucked onto them without needing a verbal command, and he moaned right behind her, making her body shake and every cell of her body scream in delight.
Cato's eyes burned into hers, seeing into her very soul, melting every little bit of her.
She was his – terribly, undeniably his.
He took his hand around her hips, rubbing her clit in tight circles and holding her in place, because he knew her too well. Her knees weakened the minute after that.
“Cato,” Luna gasped, her eyes almost rolling back.
The hand around her face moved down, his saliva-coated fingers dragging down her chin and neck, and she trembled when he squeezed the sizes of her neck suddenly.
"I told you to keep your eyes on me, wife," he hissed. “You’re gonna be looking at me when you cum.”
Luna shuddered.
“Please,” she fought to keep her eyes open.
His fingers rubbed her without a care, mercilessly as he barely blinked.
“You’re mine,” Cato nearly growled. “Say it.”
Her eyes filled up with tears as his cock fucked into her roughly, filling every little bit of her cunt and her mind at once.
“I’m yours,” she moaned.
“You’re all mine,” he squeezed a bit – not taking her breath away, but as if it was a warning.
If he wanted to, he could. She was in his hands.
Luna was outrightly dripping at the thought of that, clenching around him uncontrollably.
“Please,” she moaned, her voice raw. “Please, Cato, I need-”
And this time, he didn’t torture it out of her.
Instead, he just squeezed her closer.
“Cum on my cock,” he commanded through his teeth.
Luna did, too well trained by his hands and his words to do more than follow them.
He held her up in place, pounding into her with purpose, and the hand on her hips travelled up to her torso, the only thing keeping her standing straight up.
It was a surprise when he buried his face into her neck, taking in a deep breath of her and then sinking his teeth into the curve of her shoulder, and she whimpered in pain and pleasure as he spilt into her cunt, filling her up, slamming his hips into hers with each stroke, until he stopped and held her.
When Luna opened her eyes, his were still closed and he was just breathing against her, as if trying to turn her into oxygen itself.
She lowered her eyes when his hand moved lower on her body, and he just cradled her belly quietly, soft, not moving from his spot.
Their little baby wasn’t kicking yet. It was still small – she was due in November, it was only May now – but he’d already been gazing at the 3D pictures the doctors gave her very lovingly.
She was looking forward to having three kids so close in age. They would understand one another well, and be good friends. Maybe in some years – at least five of them – they could try for a last one, but Luna was going to enjoy every day raising those three, like she was enjoying raising her two oldest.
They stayed in there for some time – it was like he didn’t want to let her go, and she didn’t care to push him away either.
When they did leave, she was at least grateful she kept a robe in the drawers with her protective equipment – for emergencies – and put it on to go upstairs and dress up.
Hunter was already awake, and she was happy that Cato joined her in staying glued to the boys.
He watched their activities and even played with them as well, but just stayed quiet.
Luna couldn’t judge him, it was an exhausting day. She too got silent when she was exhausted – words could be hard.
“Dada!” Hunter exclaimed the moment he picked him up.
Cato had a little bit of a smile on his face when he threw their baby boy up and kissed his whole face as they walked into the kitchen, everything was already done and cooked, just waiting for them.
Cato rarely joined them for meals, they ate at quite different times.
He looked so focused on feeding him that she couldn’t bring herself to tell him that Hunter actually knew how to eat with his own hands, and their little Hunny didn’t protest at all to have his father making faces at him and giving him so much touch.
It was a nice night.
“Say night night, Prince,” she spoke softly to him, patting his back. “Night night:”
He’d woken up just a bit after she set Hunter in his crib after his nightly feeling, both of them very cuddly and apparently hungry, cause those boys were as bottomless as their father when it came to eating.
“No,” Prince spoke against her breast.
And yet, he was very much fighting his blinking eyes and doziness.
So many words that would be useful for him to know, but what he loved to say was… No.
Luna shook her head, moving her hand up to his hair and brushing it back with her fingers.
“ What a strange being you are… ” she hummed, looking into his eyes. “ Who knows where I would be if you hadn’t found me sitting all alone in the dark? ”
Prince’s bright blue eyes kept staring right up at her, so big and clear, it was like looking at the sky.
“ A dumb picture of youth ,” Luna ran her fingers down his cheek. “Watch how a cold, broken teen will desperately lean on a superglued human of proof.”
Cato stepped out of their bathroom, looking surprised for a moment.
It was a bit theirs, that song. She still remembered the night they stayed out for hours dancing with the competitors of the academy.
Oh, her feet were so tired that day – hadn’t he carried her home on his back?
“ Brave face talk so lightly, hide the truth ,” she rocked their oldest.
Prince’s eyelids closed slowly, fluttering as he tried to fight it and still lost.
“ Now I’m sick of losing soul mates, so where do we begin? I can finally see you were made just like me, so how do we win?”
She raised her eyes as Cato walked to them, sitting down on the big bed.
“ Now I’m sick of losing soul mates, won’t be alone again. I can finally see you were made just like me, so how do we win?”
Prince let her go very slowly, and her husband reached for him carefully.
“I’ll take him,” he told her. “It’s okay.”
Luna didn’t protest – their bed was very soft under her, leaving sounded terrible – and she watched him carry him up, rocking him slowly as he walked out of the room, and she covered herself up again.
She was fast asleep right away and didn’t even see him coming back.
It was a surprise when she woke up to the noise, not from the kids but from Cato himself.
He was stiff on his spot, so far away it honestly surprised her.
Cato had a lot of nightmares, most of them from the arena – some of them from his childhood – but they were always very quiet. He didn’t change his position, she usually woke up because he did and squeezed her so tightly to remember where he was that it disturbed her.
Well, not tonight. His face was wet and shining with what looked like sweat and tears, and he sounded genuinely in pain – whimpering, grunting, mumbling words she couldn’t understand – as his body jerked as if he was trying to escape a strange snare.
It wasn’t normal.
Luna rubbed her eye, turning on the bedside lamp before turning to him, and rested a hand on his shoulder.
“Cato,” she called. “Cato.”
His face scrunched up and he squeezed his fists, and she frowned.
“Cato,” she shook him. “Cato.”
When he moved, it was a snap – a blink of an eye, like a kernel being popped in a pan, or a fly escaping a swat.
In a second, she was pressed against the bed, unable to breathe, with his forearm pressing down on her neck and holding her down while his eyes – wide and violent – stared at her like he was looking at an enemy.
Luna froze, struggling to draw in a breath as her whole body tried to process it all.
He looked like he would kill her – because he could; she had seen him doing it.
“Cato-” she tried to call him.
But he tightened his grip on her.
“It’s okay,” she strangled out. “You’re home. You’re home, it’s okay. I’m Luna, I’m your wife.”
She tried to touch his arm, and he was frozen as he stared at her.
“It’s okay,” she assured him. “You’re home. We’re home. I’m your wife, we’re home.”
His eyes widened, and she could see the moment his shoulders trembled and he realised what was happening.
Cato pulled away from her like she was wildfire and Luna gulped for air right away, still shocked and scared.
“I’m sorry,” he stammered out. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”
His hand travelled to her face quickly grabbing, patting her like mum would do whenever she fell or hurt herself.
“I’m sorry,” he pleaded. “I’m sorry.”
Luna grabbed his face, and he was so cold it surprised her.
“You were having a nightmare,” she told him.
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed down.
“I… you,” he practically spit out. “You were… and the boys...”
Cato fell back, looking destroyed.
“The blood bath,” he seemed to realise.
Luna frowned.
“The blood bath?”
She followed him, and Cato rubbed his face roughly, like he was trying to clean himself from something inexistent.
“And you,” he hissed. “You were...”
But he didn’t say the words, he just gestured to his head.
“And I couldn’t… I wasn’t…”
And he sobbed. Full-bodied sobbed.
In nearly four years of knowing Cato, Luna had never seen him cry. And yet, there he was, sobbing, trembling like he’d never done before.
She wrapped her arms and legs around him, squeezing him as tight as she could, and he cried into her neck, clinging to her through the night.
Luna didn’t let him see the big bruise he had left on her when she woke up before him in the morning. She didn’t want him to feel bad.
Notes:
Chapter 5: YEAR 7: You can get addicted to a certain kind of sadness
Summary:
When Cato is away post-Hunger Games, Luna tries to throw the kids a little party. She doesn't know he's going to come home so soon.
Notes:
Check the end notes for details such as what we imagined with the visuals, and details of age.
Be aware, this one gets a bit scary in the end, it is pretty different from the previous years.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“Happy unbirthday, baby Gunner,” Luna sang with the group around them, rocking her sweet boy gently with the little song. “Happy unbirthday to you.”
The kids clapped happily, and she blew his candle – her baby boy was too little to blow his own unbirthday candle.
It was a little bit late. Today, Gunner was already 7 months old. Usually, Luna set up unbirthdays for when the boys turned six months old.
Cato was the one who came up with it with Prince. She was pregnant with Hunter and so tired, he decided to make a little surprise for her, with her parents, Juno and Jupiter.
Prince’s little unbirthday was such a good day they did the same thing with Hunter, and then with Victor – her little Teddy – and with Archie.
When she wanted to do it with Gunner, he wasn’t too happy about it. Life was busy, he was working hard in the Academy, and at Capitol, and the competitions were keeping everyone busy before the games.
Besides, Cato was terribly stressed lately.
He was still at the Capitol, the 81st Hunger Games had just wrapped up a couple of days prior, and he usually spent an extra week in the Capitol after that, so it would be fine to have the little party now – even if it was admittedly late.
She nuzzled her little baby, spreading all the kisses to his face as the other kids celebrated his existence – or the fact they were going to eat party food.
Luna smiled as the servants started cutting up the cake, the nannies watching them quietly, apart from the pair of mothers she’d managed to invite.
Well… she had invited their kids, some boys and girls Prince and Hunter knew from school and were friends with.
“Happy unbirthday, little man,” Minerva wished, waving a happy hand to him two feet away from her.
Luna tried to smile and gesture her closer.
Minerva had twins – a girl and a boy, Diana and Apollo, like Jupiter and Juno – who were part of Prince’s class, and a little one a bit older than Teddy.
Luna was not good at being social, but she wanted them to be better than her.
It was important for kids to have friends and not just be close to their siblings.
“Six months is a big age,” she tried to joke. “Well… seven and a bit.”
Minerva smiled, just nodding, and turned to look at the kids.
“Diana, don’t tease him!” she spoke up quickly. “Excuse me. Leave Mason be.”
Luna tried to smile, but she was just walking away already.
“Well, I’m sure I can talk to you,” she turned to her Sweet Boy.
But Gunner just squirmed in her arms, eager to get to the floor.
She sighed, walking to the caged space to place him down, and Gunner was quick to get on his little arms and legs, training to crawl, and she moved awkwardly as she looked around, the nanny already moving to take his side.
Minerva and Scilla were all by their kids, watching them play with the boys.
Good, that was… good.
Yeah.
The kids were having fun, that was the important part.
She rubbed her hands together and over her dress, the feeling of her stomach flat being so strange.
That was it. Her last unbirthday party.
Five boys were enough.
Maybe when Gunner was a little more independent, she could start going out – getting out of the house would be good, right?
Making friends sounded… nice.
If she could make friends.
“Mama!” Ted called her. “Mama, help.”
She looked over at him, and he was trying to reach for the cupcake at the table.
Luna walked to his side, picking one and giving it to her.
Her little boy grinned and clapped.
Oh, how was he already almost four?
She moved her hand to his hair, pushing his delicate curls back, and kissed his forehead.
“Vicky! Vicky!” Mason rushed to him.
The name made her clench her jaw, a bit uncomfortable.
Victor.
Hunter, Victor, Archer, Gunner.
They were such violent names, without any meaning or cohesion.
On her family, her name and mum’s were very matching – Loba and Luna. They started and ended with the same letters.
And then, when Juno came, the middle of their names was the same as well – and Juno’s name matched Jupiter’s, and they both matched dad's, Julius.
How come all of her boys’ names matched in their violence and not on anything special?
Cato had chosen them all. He was the one who picked the boys’ names, and she would get to pick names for the girls. And then they had five boys, and the names she thought of went to the shelf.
“I want a cupcake!” Mason declared, clenching his little hand.
Luna smiled to him, and took one from the table, giving it to him.
“There you go.”
The little boy took it very happily and smashed the chocolate right on his face.
She laughed at the sight of it, breathing out.
Most of the kids who went to the school the boys went to were Elite. So their parents were Elite and everything they did was from the Elite.
Luna still remembered the first time she ate some of the foods at their parties, and how strange they were – how much richer they were – and now everything so… common.
Natural.
Expected, in a way.
It was a nice world, though! A good life.
Cato afforded them a very good life, he did.
And that was very good, it was wonderful.
And it was so good for the kids. Even with her statues, when would they ever be able to afford a big house like that, and parties like that?
The boys had the best of the best things.
It was important that kids had the best of the best things.
Luna twisted her ring nervously, but smiled again when a group of little kids rushed to her, all of them wanting cupcakes.
She smiled at them as she served them, making sure to give a pink-frosted cupcake to little Asher as he pointed excitedly to it, grinning.
He was Scilla’s boy. She was a bit younger than Luna, he was her only kid, but she had brought her niece, little Sarah, who was playing with Hunter at the moment, near the strawberry brushes taking over the left of their garden – jealously keeping other fruits from growing.
He didn’t talk much, Mason, but he was lovely and loved playing with Ted.
Oh, she wanted to be his mother’s friend so much.
The women of the Elite were a tight circle and Luna was terrible at interacting with them.
But Scilla came from the middle class as well. Her father was a peacekeeper like Luna’s, and she came from a normal family.
And she was the only one who had come to the party without a nanny – Minerva had two with her, and the other handful of kids present were all accompanied by their nannies and not their parents – so it had to mean something, right?
She took a pair of cupcakes from the table and put them on a little plate before breathing in deeply and walking to her.
Just to say hi again, of course.
No pressure.
“Hey,” she greeted her.
Scilla turned to her with a distracted smile, very much focused on her boy.
“Oh, hey,” she greeted back.
Luna swallowed down and showed her the cupcakes.
“Thank you,” Scilla smiled, plucking one.
“You’re welcome,” Luna smiled back and sat right by her side.
And there was silence.
She glanced at the woman by her side, tense.
“Are you enjoying the party?” Luna asked.
Scilla turned to her with a small smile.
“Oh, it’s lovely,” she answered. “You… went all in with it.”
Luna rubbed her hand on her dress, trying not to show her nervousness.
“Well, your last baby doesn’t turn 6 months old every day,” she shrugged, trying to keep her spirits up. “Well, seven. It was meant to be for his sixth month, but… life got in the way.”
Scilla nodded along, petting Ashe’s chocolate brown hair as he ate, not saying anything – he looked quite a bit like her, with the same green eyes and the same colour of hair. Nothing Luna could say for herself, all five of her boys were copies of Cato with maybe sprinkles of her. Everyone in her little bunch had light-blonde hair and their father’s face.
“Mama, mama,” Hunter ran to her, his clothes already messy from the food – though his face was distinctively clean for someone she was certain had stuffed himself with chocolate.
Luna’s attention shifted to him right away, brushing her fingers over his hair, so short it hurt her heart.
He hated having it glued to his forehead, her little man.
“Yes, baby?”
“I don’t want the red cupcake,” he told her. “It is dyed with bugs.”
She raised her eyebrows, impressed with the information she had heard him say many times already.
Hunter was learning things at school, and he loved telling her those things.
Of course, he was also learning a lot from his books about bugs. He was a very smart boy, he had learnt to read even before Prince himself. Actually, he was spelling words when he was just a few months younger than three, her little genius.
“They smash the red little bugs, and they take the pigment, and they make things with it,” he told her. “Like red cupcakes and pink frosting.”
Luna nodded slowly.
“Well, you can eat the blue ones,” she suggested. “They are made with blueberries."
Scilla stood up from her side, following Asher out, and Hunter lit up excitedly.
“Oh, yes!” he gasped. “Thank you, mama!”
And he ran right off.
Her lovely boy.
Archie ran right after her, shaking his little arms, raising them.
“Mama!” he called, jumping, trying to climb on her. “Mama, mama.”
She picked him up, and he quickly grabbed the top of her dress.
“Milk, milk,” he requested.
Luna chuckled, shaking her head.
“Alright, alright,” she took his little hand from her dress. “Let’s sit under a good shadow.”
She still hadn’t weaned Archie – usually, the boys just stopped nursing when a new baby came or she was too crowded to feed three kids. When Ted came, Prince stopped, then when Archie came Hunter stopped, and Ted himself stopped nursing when she got pregnant with Gunner and her belly was too much on the way for him.
Archie was still very attached to it, but she didn’t mind.
Cato thought it was good for them. It meant they were healthy and gained extra nutrients from what she ate.
Honestly, Luna just wanted to be close to her boys. They were growing up so fast, and she had such little chance of just holding and cuddling them.
Cato was very… well…
He didn’t want their boys to be treated like babies, so once they weaned themselves, he saw them as old enough to not need coddling.
But they were little kids, and all kids deserve to be squeezed and kissed and hugged whenever they wanted.
Her mother still treated Luna, Juno and Jupiter with the same affection she did when they were kids, and there was nothing wrong with that.
She sat on the porch with Archie, and he was already tugging on her neckline to attach to her breast as she watched the kids playing and eating, running with their friends and getting messy, so happy it made her relax on her spot.
They were happy kids.
Life was always much more fun when Cato wasn’t there, lately.
Their last few years were so complicated. He wasn’t happy at all, the people of the Capitol were… demanding.
It was complicated.
Luna was bracing herself for when he came home, but they still had a few days before he returned.
She took her hand to Archie’s face, watching his features.
He did have a little pout, didn’t he? Like her father.
And those were Jupiter’s eyebrows, she couldn’t be convinced otherwise.
Her little brother and sister were blondes, just like Mum. Like her sons. And Luna was a blonde too when she was small, her hair only darkened when she was near puberty.
Archie clenched his hand on the fabric of her shirt as she looked away from him, catching her attention right away again.
“Alright, alright,” she hummed, caressing his little belly. “I’ll look at you.”
He smiled against her breast happily, keeping his eyes right on hers as he suckled calmly, and she brushed his hair back, the long tips starting to curl.
Archie would be two soon – in October.
They could get all the kids together for a little party, she was sure Cato wasn’t going to mind it.
Archie’s bright blue eyes stared right up at her, and she caressed his cheek.
It would be nice to have a brown-eyed baby.
It was sad they had lost their chance, but it was alright. Her babies were enough.
Archie’s little eyes slowly closed, his nap time hitting him like a train, and a nanny stopped by them, waiting dutifully for her to be done with him.
“Have you eaten?” she asked the young lady.
She was a new girl, Luna was struggling to remember her name – something with L? Leila? Luisa? – but she was a lovely girl.
“Not yet, ma’am,” she told her.
“Get something,” Luna told her. “I’ll tell the waitresses to make something you can bring home.”
The girl flushed, looking a bit embarrassed.
“Of course, ma’am,” she confirmed. "Thank you."
Luna fixed her shirt, looking comically asymmetrical on her chest, and passed Archie to the nanny, keeping her eyes on them until they were inside the house.
She sat alone there, watching the kids play and Minerva and Scilla talking, and they both glanced at her before turning to the other side right away, appearing to giggle.
Oh.
Luna sunk on her spot.
Maybe she just didn’t fit in with those Elite women like the boys fit in with their kids.
It was no surprise, she was… odd. Everyone always said that.
She sighed.
Honestly, she wished her family could be present, but getting them there would be complicated.
Her father had retired from Peacekeeping a few years ago, and he was now working for the city, Juno was a professor in the Academy, and Jupiter was off somewhere as a Peacekeeper.
They would love to see her baby’s unbirthday, and she knew mum would probably knit something lovely for him and would keep her company, and she wouldn’t look so alone at her own party… but it was best not to.
If they came, Luna would need to explain to Cato why her family was suddenly at their house once he came back – she couldn’t make them come for just a day when it took hours of driving to reach the city – and he would probably be in a terrible mood, and she didn’t want her family to see him like that.
It was best to not invite them, as much as it saddened her a little bit.
Luna stiffened her back, standing up and straightening her clothes to walk back to the house and the kitchen.
The cook – Mr Stone – was still making some fried cheese balls when he realised her presence and his assistant – there for parties and occasions – turned right to her.
“Mrs Hadley.”
“Make sure everyone will have something to bring home later today,” she told him. “The nannies and the two of you included. We don’t wish for anything to remain at home after the party, you can give everything away.”
Cato wouldn’t be happy to come home and find sweets if he opened the fridge, or walked by the boys with their tongues stained with frosting.
“Even the cakes, ma’am?” the boy asked.
She smiled a bit sadly.
“Even the cakes,” she told him. “We have… thirty people, and then our nannies and you two… you think there’s enough for everyone?”
“Oh, there is more than enough for everyone,” the assistant agreed quickly.
“Don’t you want to keep the cheese pastries, ma’am?” Mr Stone asked. “The boys like them. I’m sure little Cato will love some.”
Luna twisted her rings, forcing a smile to her face. Prince did love them, just like his father used to.
Well, she could just… no, it was better not to.
“Oh, no need,” she dismissed him. “He’s having a lot of them today, it’s best that we keep the party food for the party times.”
Mr Stone was a good man – he was old enough to be a grandfather, and retired from being a peacekeeper. He’d been with them since before their marriage.
“I’m sure you all have wonderful people at home who’ll love some cake,” she tried to be playful. “But thank you.”
The two just smiled at her very gently, and Luna walked off to the porch again, still uncomfortable, and smiled at some nannies when she caught sight of them looking at her. Thankfully, they were a bit nicer than Minerva and Scilla and even smiled at her as they resumed their talk.
Luna waved back to the kids when Prince waved his hand to her, with his face painted like a tiger. Oh, she was so grateful the nanny was taking pictures of them, she would keep the picture of him painted like that in her office.
The party ended a bit after that, and she made sure to handle the food boxes for the nannies herself when they walked out, and they were very, very nice about it.
The boys were exhausted, her sweet baby was so happy with his plate of special fruits, only 80% of it ended up on his hair and he had… maybe two sucks of a strawberry and a bite of watermelon, which she was sure was nice for him.
By the time the sun was setting, everything was cleaned and all of the guests were gone – Mr Stone and his assistant only left after Hunter told them all the things he liked at the party, thanked them, and requested that they did it for his birthday.
“Goodbye Miss Julia,” Hunter hugged the nanny’s leg, looking right up at her. “Thank you for cleaning the paint from my face.”
Luna chuckled at him, petting Prince’s hair as the other boys said goodbyes to the last nanny to leave.
She still kept a night nanny. Cato wanted to have two of them, but Prince and Hunter were already big, they could express themselves and what they needed and slept through the night. The nursery was right in their bedroom, so it only left Ted and Archie who could wake up during the night and needed someone by their side.
They had all skipped dinner – the party had filled everyone with so much food she doubted the boys would be hungry for anything at all until the morning.
“Goodbye, honey boy,” Julia petted his hair. “I’ll be here first thing in the morning, Mrs Hadley.”
Luna smiled at her.
“Thank you,” she pressed a little kiss to Hunter’s forehead. “Don’t forget to take your food box with you.”
Prince squeezed her neck when Hunter came to their side, unwilling to give his brother any space to replace him on her lap.
He was wrapped around her like a little sloth, and she had to confess she had no intentions of letting him go.
They barely got to cuddle much anymore, not since she had moved to the third floor of the house.
It was not her favourite thing, but taking the master suite was much more convenient for everyone.
The nursery was just a few steps away, the bathroom as well, and she didn’t need to go up a set of stairs to reach her closet… yes, it was a bit far away from the kids, but it wasn’t that bad.
“Thank you, ma’am,” Julia smiled shyly. “Bye, boys.”
Prince waved to her, and Ted did the same, playing with his toy by her side as she held him with one arm.
Oh, it was going to be hard to set everyone to bed now. She didn’t like pushing her boys away.
“Mama,” Hunter climbed to the couch as Julia closed the door of the kitchen.
She turned to her free side.
“Yes, honey boy?”
He looked at her with his big blue eyes, and Prince whined right into her neck when she pulled her hand from his back to touch Hunter, already very sleepy.
“When is Daddy coming back?”
Luna breathed in deep.
“Daddy is working at the Capitol, remember?” she told him. “He’s there because of the Hunger Games.”
He was. The Games had ended a few days prior, yes – with a victor from District 4 this year – but people at the Capitol expected to spend a few days in the company of the Victors.
“Why do you ask?” she looked at him fully. “Do you miss him?”
“No,” he answered quickly.
Luna’s eyes widened at his fast honesty.
“I like it when he’s not home, mama,” he snuggled to her side. “We get to have parties.”
She stared at him, wordless.
Oh.
He…
Oh.
She swallowed down.
“But we have parties with Daddy here too,” Luna reminded him.
But Hunter shook his head.
“He’s not fun,” he told her. “You’re more fun.”
Prince moved on her lap, looking up at him.
“I like it when Daddy is at the Capitol,” he yawned. “You always tell us stories.”
Luna breathed in deep, not finding any words.
She…
Well, she did spend more time with them when Cato was at the Capitol, but it wasn’t malicious or intentional in any way. It was just that when her husband was home, things were always… busier.
Cato was just a bit more strict, and she admittedly liked spoiling the boys a little bit.
“Daddy…” she started.
But she couldn’t even find the right words.
“Daddy loves all of you very much,” Luna reminded them. “All of us.”
Prince pulled back from her neck, looking up at her, and he was so hauntingly similar to Cato that it moved something in her quite bittersweet.
“It’s okay, mama,” he told her. “We won’t tell him that we like you more.”
Luna’s heart broke in her chest, and she took his round little face in her hands, kissing him over his cheeks and forehead.
Oh, her little Prince.
He didn’t protest her affection, just clinging to her when she stopped, and Hunter put himself on his knees, leaning onto her, and Luna kissed his forehead. He was so tall already for his age – he was the tallest in his classroom. She did have very tall sons.
“Mama,” he called. “If Daddy isn’t going to sleep home, can I sleep on your bed tonight?”
That seemed to get Prince’s attention too.
“Me too, mama, please.”
“Me too!” Ted squeaked up. “Me too. I want to sleep in your bed!”
It was adorable that they wanted to sleep in her bed, clinging to her like little sloths, but it was sad at the same time.
What had gone wrong for them to feel so distant from their own father?
Cato loved them. She had no doubt about that.
He was affectionate, and caring, and always cared for what happened to them.
But… the change had been subtle, hadn’t it? With the boys growing older, Cato always made sure to focus on discipline and structure. Prince and Hunter were both at school, and Ted would be joining it soon. School-aged children needed a different structure compared to toddlers.
But it wasn’t like he was cruel or cold.
“Pity pwease?” Ted asked, taking her attention again.
She couldn’t help but soften, melting like sugar in warm tea. Oh, her little bear.
“Alright, alright,” Luna breathed out. “You won. But just for tonight.”
Her boys celebrated loudly and happily.
“I want everyone brushing their teeth,” she instructed, patting Prince’s back. “And you have to agree on the book we’re going to read, just one story tonight!”
Their pure joy was so infectious she couldn’t help smiling along as she carried Ted with her, and Prince and Hunter ran out, taking the stairs before she even reached them, probably running to their shared bathroom.
“No running on the stairs,” she reminded them.
The boy slowed down, and she smiled at Mabel when she left Hunter’s room, probably from folding his laundry.
“Mrs Hadley,” she greeted, ready to take Ted. “Bedtime?”
“They’re going to bed with me tonight,” she told her. “But it would be very helpful if you watched over Prince and Hunter as they brush their teeth, they’ll probably try to rush it as much as they can if someone’s not there to make sure they clean their teeth properly.”
Her night nanny smiled.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Luna smiled softly as Ted gave her his biggest, toothiest grin, his little legs swinging from the bathroom counter where she sat him, very happy with his toothbrush – the one with a cute bear on the handle.
"Such a good boy," she hummed as she gently brushed his tiny teeth, and he grinned even more.
She could still hear Prince and Hunter in the other bathroom, talking over something she couldn’t quite get.
It was very peaceful, wasn’t it?
Luna rarely got to join the boys for their nightly routines, just usually kissing them goodnight before they retired.
Cato liked to go to bed early and didn’t trust open doors – he never did. So she had to go sleep with him right around the same time their oldest boys were off to do the same, and she couldn’t take the time to read to them or even cuddle them a bit like she did when he wasn’t home.
"All done!" Luna announced, wiping Ted's chin after he spat into the sink.
“Thank you, mama!” he threw his arms over her shoulders.
She kissed his chubby cheek.
“You’re welcome, my little Teddy,” Luna picked him up. “Let’s go see if your brothers are done or if they need another round.”
But Ted just wiggled in her grasp, and she set him on the floor, watching him running to find Prince and Hunter, eager to join his brothers, and they were all talking over two books.
“No, this one!” Hunter held the little book in his hand. “I like this one.”
“But Pietra read us that one last night!” Prince protested.
Luna leaned against the door, ready to see if they wanted an opinion, but Ted just ran straight to the pile of new books on Prince’s shelf.
“This one!” he picked it up. “Yellow dragon!”
Yellow dragon?
She stepped to him, giving the cover a look.
It had to be a new book. Cato bought too many of them for the boys, she was never able to go through them all.
“What about that one?” she looked at Hunter and Prince.
Her oldest sons looked at the cover.
“I never read it,” Prince told her. “We can read it.”
“We can read it,” Hunter parroted, agreeing.
Luna nodded simply, taking it from Ted’s hand.
“Upstairs, then,” she told them.
She considered stopping to bring Archie to bed with her as well but didn’t.
Luna already spent so much of her day with her youngest two glued to her. The older boys deserved some time with her for themselves.
The boys all climbed the stairs excitedly, and she helped them one by one to her bed, the mattress way too tall for them.
She made sure each of her sons was comfortable before laying down as well, and they all crowded around her as she took the book to her lap.
“Alright, let's see,” she ran her fingers over the cover, feeling the texture of it.
Very nice.
“The Princess and the Dragon,” Hunter read the cover.
She smiled at him.
He was a very smart boy and he loved reading. Actually, Hunter was already reading when he was two years old, it was very impressive.
“Shh,” Prince interrupted, a little too eager. “Let mama read!”
She petted his hair.
“Don’t be like that,” she told him. “Your brother is just excited for the new book.”
“It’s okay,” Hunter told her. “You read it, mama.”
She opened the page and all three pairs of wide, sky-blue eyes immediately fixed on her.
"Once upon a time," Luna began. "there was a lonely princess who lived in a vast and beautiful kingdom."
Hunter gasped by her side.
“Look!” he pointed at the page. “She has hair like you.”
Luna smiled at him. She did have brown hair – a surprise, considering it was a book from the Capitol.
“She does,” she agreed. “The princess didn’t have many friends, and she felt like no one really understood her. One day, while walking in the forest, she met a dragon.”
Ted gasped, his pretty eyes widening.
"A dragon?" he asked.
Luna nodded.
"Yes, a mighty dragon, as tall a tree and as golden as the prettiest jewellery! He was very beautiful, but the princess didn’t know something very important," she paused for dramatic effect, watching their eyes grow wider. "The dragon was dangerous."
A collective gasp filled the room and Prince shifted to get a better look at the book, resting his head on her shoulder.
"But he didn’t seem dangerous," Luna continued, reading the page with a warning in her voice. "He was clever and charming. The dragon told the princess that he would be her best friend and that she would never be lonely again. He promised her a beautiful life if she came to live with him in a grand tower at the edge of the forest, where he would take her to get the prettiest flowers every morning, to swim in the river every afternoon, and where they would read the best books every night."
Prince studied the illustration of the towering green construction.
“It’s a very pretty tower.”
And it was. It was a tall green tower, in the beautiful green forest.
She turned the page under their watchful eyes.
"The dragon made the tower look so inviting, with tall windows that let in all of the sunshine and a library full of books. The princess thought she had finally found someone who cared about her."
She sighed dramatically, letting her voice take a sad tone.
"But it was all a trick. The dragon was not as kind as he seemed."
Ted's little voice piped up.
"He was bad?"
She smiled sadly.
"Yes, my Teddy Bear," she said gently. "The dragon wasn’t a true friend at all. He only wanted to keep the princess locked away. She didn’t know it at first, so she moved into the tower, thinking it would be a wonderful adventure. It had everything he promised — beautiful windows, the best books and a view of the forest — but when she asked to leave to visit her family, the dragon refused."
Ted gasped.
“Oh, no!”
Luna nodded solemnly, turning to meet the wide eyes of Hunter and Prince, listening to every little word from her.
"Yes, the dragon wouldn’t let her go. He told the princess that it was for her own protection, that the world was dangerous and only he could keep her safe."
Hunter frowned deeply, and she couldn’t help kissing his pretty temple.
"That sounds mean,” he told her.
Luna smiled sadly.
"It was,” she agreed. “The princess could no longer pick flowers in the morning, or swim in the river in the afternoon. She couldn’t see her mother or father, and soon, they became very worried when she didn’t return home. The King and Queen sent brave knights to find her, but every time one came close, the dragon breathed fire and burnt them to ash."
Hunter's jaw dropped.
"Oh no! That's terrible!"
“Every single time they sent someone to rescue her, he breathed fire and burnt them!” she told them. “And sometimes, he even ate them!”
Ted clutched his blanket tightly, staring at the page wide-eyed.
“That is so scary!” he whispered.
She leaned in, kissing his little temple in comfort.
“Indeed. The King and Queen sent ten brave knights, but none of them returned."
“That means they lost,” Hunter whispered to his brothers.
Luna smiled at him. Well, it meant they died, but it was good that he hadn’t thought of that.
“Indeed, my honey boy,” she told him. “Until one day, after the tenth knight had lost, she realised that no knight would be able to rescue her and she had to do it herself.”
Her boys’ eyes widened.
"But how could she fight a dragon?” Hunter asked. “She didn’t have a sword or armour!"
“Well, let me see,” she turned to the next page. “On the night of the 15th night, the princess waited for the dragon to fall asleep, for dragons need rest too, you know?”
The boys nodded.
“She found some strong rope in the tower and tied it into a lasso, and with all might, she sneaked down and tied the dragon down on the ground!”
Hunter Prince, eyes as wide as they could ever be.
"She caught him!"
“She did!” Luna agreed. “But the dragon was furious! He roared and thrashed about, trying to break free. But the princess held on tight, and a Prince who was in the forest, who had heard all about the Princess who was locked in a tower with an evil dragon, came in running to help. He couldn't help at first, but he did the best he could do, and he tossed her his sword!”
The boys’ eyes went big in excitement.
"With the sword in her hand, the princess stood tall before the dragon and said, 'You will not keep me here any longer. I am free’!” she read. “And when the dragon attacked her, she fought back with the sword! The dragon was fierce and breathed fire, but the princess was brave! She dodged the flames and fought with all her strength.”
Luna smirked a bit at how sanitised it all was, though a bit unhappy.
For the kind of people who enjoyed watching children fight to death yearly, the Capitol’s child books were quite tame.
“She defeated the dragon when the sun came up. She was so grateful for the help of the Prince that they became the best of friends, and the Prince helped her return to her kingdom. The King and Queen were overjoyed to see her, and they celebrated her bravery."
The boys’ faces lit up with happiness, though she could see they were all fighting sleep.
"And from then on," Luna concluded, "the Princess and the Prince lived happily ever after, ruling the kingdom with kindness and wisdom. The tower was never used again, and the princess remembered that even when things seem dark and scary, with courage and cleverness, you can overcome anything. They had ten little princes as children, and named them after every brave night who came to her rescue.”
She chuckled at reading. Ten kids? Poor woman.
“And they lived happily ever after,” Luna ended it.
That almost made her lose her smile, but she kept it for the boys.
Happily ever afters only happened in stories.
She set the book aside and moved slowly, placing kisses on every reachable part of her boys – a forehead, a cheek and a little hand – as they drifted off to sleep.
Beautiful boys, her sons. Good kids.
Luna settled on the bed, breathing out.
If anything, she was happy she had them. They were precious. They made her happy.
Whatever happiness meant.
She drifted off to sleep quietly, hugged and cuddled from all sides – she got woken up by one of the nannies to feed the baby late at night, but they took care of him for everything else.
Honestly, Luna hadn’t been able to relax and rest like that in years.
Which was why it was so sudden and scary when she was rudely awakened and the room was filled with noise and movement.
A little hand was clenching her hair and nearly ripped it away suddenly when Ted was pulled from the bed, but thankfully whoever was rushing out with him was quick enough to open his hand.
“Mrs Hadley,” Pietra called, sounding terrified.
She turned to her, feeling everything in her body too sharp as someone picked up Hunter and rushed off as well.
“Mr Hadley is at the gates,” the nanny informed her.
Luna’s blood escaped her face and hands, her arm wrapping around Prince instinctively, without thinking.
“No,” she stuttered. “That can’t be, he is meant to stay at the Capitol for another few days.”
He wasn’t supposed to come home so soon.
“He is coming, ma’am,” Pietra told her simply.
Luna swallowed down.
She had to move.
She stood up quickly, taking Prince in her arms, and he squeezed her tightly and
“Take Prince to his room,” she passed him to her. “I need to brush my teeth.”
She had to meet him at the door.
Cato’s worse moods and worse days were the days he returned from the Capitol.
It was always best to keep him away from the children and to just appease him until he was feeling better.
But when Pietra tried to take Prince from her arms, her son didn’t budge.
“No!” he whined, clinging to her shoulder. “No, mama!”
His little voice broke her heart into a thousand little pieces.
If it were any other day, if it was any other situation, she would have held him. Luna would have calmed him down, they would have talked.
But this wasn’t any other situation, it wasn’t a different day.
She needed to be at the door.
“Baby, please,” she insisted, trying to pry his little hands from her back.
But he didn’t budge.
Prince cried, his little nails even hurting her skin.
“I need to go see Daddy,” she hissed.
No use.
She exchanged a quick look with Pietra, who looked just as lost.
“Just get my robe, I’ll take him to his room myself,” she told her.
They would calm him down much better if he was already in his room.
She rushed down the stairs, holding him close as she practically ran to his room, sitting him on his bed.
“Mama!” Prince cried, protesting.
“Baby, I need to go,” she spoke firmly.
He was so small, she knew he didn’t understand, but couldn’t he listen to her?!
Luna pulled him a little harder, a little firmer.
“Cato!” she called.
That made him stop and look at her, his beautiful blue eyes full of tears and shock when she stared into them.
She never called him by his name – she barely called any of the boys by their names, but Prince… well, it felt simply wrong to call him by the name she had chosen for him nearly seven years ago.
“If I don’t go, Daddy is going to be really upset,” Luna told him. “So I have to go now, and you have to let me.”
Oh, her baby boy shuddered in her arms. His little lip trembled, and he was fighting so hard to keep himself from crying more.
“You’re going to be a big boy, and stay here with Pietra,” Luna told him. “Okay?”
Prince nodded slowly, and she kissed his cheek quickly.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Luna let him go, rushing out of his room as she tried to brush down her hair, hearing the beat of her heart in her ears as her palms sweat.
She climbed the stairs to her room two steps at a time. If Cato was at the gates then, and she had spent two minutes with Prince, it meant she probably had time to go up and brush her teeth quickly, and run down to the front door and welcome him.
The Capitol car always left him at the gates to walk home, it would be fine.
They would be fine. He wouldn’t think anything was wrong and she would be a good wife and do her best to calm him down.
Perfect.
And then she stepped into her bedroom, and Cato was standing there.
Luna’s whole body froze and she inhaled deeply in shock, like every bit of air in the room was sucked from inside and she was stuck trying to breathe.
Cato,” she managed to speak out.
He looked at her from her to toe, quiet and unmoving, like a wolf watching prey it didn’t believe capable of running.
“Where’s the baby?” he asked.
Luna swallowed down, her eyes darting to the door of the nursery, already open.
“The nanny takes him to the garden in the mornings,” she reminded him. “It’s important to get vitamin D.”
His lip twitched, though she wouldn’t know whether it was to give her a dismissive smile or a snarl.
“And where were you?” he raised his eyebrows slowly. “That you didn’t go downstairs, and welcomed me home at the door.”
It was an actual effort to unlock her jaw to speak.
Luna glanced around the room.
Someone had made her bed, and there was no sign that the kids had ever been in the room.
Cato hated the idea of the boys sleeping with them - with her. Once they were weaned, he considered them too old to be so dependent on her.
They were children, little children.
Luna remembered sneaking into her mother’s bed the day before she moved out to live with Cato.
Kids always needed their parents.
But she didn’t try to tell him that, he would hardly listen.
“Prince woke up with a bit of a fever,” she spoke slowly.
A lie, yes. But she was good at lying, it was one of the things she could do well.
“The nanny wanted me to check on him.”
“And when did you become a doctor?” he snapped back. “Is that what you do when I’m away? You forgot to tell me that.”
Luna swallowed down, looking down.
She watched his feet moving slowly to her, keeping her eyes away from his face as Cato approached her slowly.
“Remind me of a thing, darling,” he spoke slowly, his nickname for her sounding anything but affectionate. “What is the one thing I expect of you when I come home?”
Luna breathed in deeply, clenching her hands on the sides of her body.
“To greet you,” she mumbled.
“Sorry, what was that?” Cato requested.
His body was an inch away from hers, inescapable if she ever thought of stepping away from him.
She wouldn’t do that twice.
“To greet you,” Luna repeated, louder.
“Where?” he asked, his voice sharp.
“At the door. Dressed and decent.”
Cato hummed along, even closer to her.
“Are we at the door?” he asked, his voice deeply condescending.
She shook her head, keeping her eyes down.
“And are you decent?”
Luna shook her head again.
“Look at me,” he commanded.
She hesitated, faltering for a moment, and he stepped even closer to her.
“Look at me!” Cato hissed.
She complied so fast it nearly snapped her neck.
“You don’t think that’s the fucking least I deserve?” Cato roared at her face.
Luna clenched her teeth, his screams hurting her ears.
She blinked away the tears that blurred her vision, trying to keep her face straight as she nodded. But he wasn’t quite satisfied.
“Answer me!” Cato commanded, stepping even closer to her, and Luna took a step back so as to not fall from the sudden feeling of him against her.
“Yes,” she mumbled. “I’m sorry.”
“Yes, I’m sorry,” he mocked. “You stink.”
Luna closed her mouth.
She wasn’t able to brush her teeth or her hair yet. When he wasn’t home, she didn’t ever wear perfume.
Luna inhaled in surprise when he took his hand to her shoulder and snapped the strap of the soft nightgown on her.
“Look at you. Tits spilling out, almost fucking sheer. Looking straight out of a dirty ad they have everywhere around the Capitol,” he accused between teeth. "Was that how you were going to welcome me at the door?”
She looked down at herself, feeling suddenly too cold in her bedroom.
Of course not, he knew that.
“I was gonna put on my robe,” Luna told him, speaking down again. “And brush my teeth and my hair. And put on shoes.”
But her answer seemed to pass him. Maybe he wasn’t expecting one or just wanted someone to speak at.
Maybe he wasn’t even seeing her as a whole being, just a thing to look at.
“They would have the time of their life with you,” he accused.
Luna’s eyes snapped up to his face.
His eyes were completely distant, seeing right through her.
“In a certain way, they already do, don’t they?”
She felt a terrible shiver up her back.
“So many who would buy you in the blink of an eye,” he toyed with the thing, his eyes hard and furious. “Just to get a little touch of you, wife. Isn’t that interesting?”
Luna swallowed down around her dry throat.
“You know they love how little your tits are?” he asked, looking down at her face. “How you’re still all perky and tight, not an inch of loose skin or a sight of a stretch mark.”
She recoiled, feeling the taste of bile in her throat.
Why was he saying all of that?
“Those little sculptor muscles,” he mocked her. “Firm ass and thighs… you can’t manufacture that. Their wives can’t buy that, their victors can’t get that build. Makes you all special.”
Luna looked away from him again. Special.
He knew she hated that word.
Cato took his hand to her face, tilting her chin up with his knuckles.
“But the Capitol can’t have you, right, darling?” he looked into her eyes. “Because you are district. How lucky.”
Luna, shuddered, unable to control herself.
“But, but, but,” he tapped her skin. “We do have our Elite, don’t we?”
She stared at him, unable to even speak.
What was he implying?
“But I’m such a good husband,” Cato reminded her. “Because while I do have to go out there, and take everything they want to do to me with a smile. While I have to play their little game… you are here.”
He opened his arms, showing the walls around them.
“You don’t have to leave,” Cato laughed, but there was no amusement on his face. “You don’t have to get on your knees or stick out your ass or behave like an animal or else you'll get discarded!”
Luna lowered her head, feeling the bitterness coating her mouth, but he grabbed her face, making her look up at him.
“You get to do whatever you want with your days!” he squeezed the sides of her face. “Because I protect you from every single one of those fuckers.”
His eyes didn’t tear away from hers, empty and deranged.
“Aren’t you grateful, darling?”
She nodded, tense, and he squeezed her cheeks.
“I asked,” he spoke slowly. “Aren’t you grateful?”
“Yes,” Luna forced the words out.
Cato didn’t move, so close to her face, he was all he could see now.
“Then how do you say?”
Her legs felt outrightly weak.
Why was he doing this?
“Thank you, Cato,” she whimpered.
But Cato didn’t let her go, holding her face tightly still.
“That’s what I deserve,” he emphasised. “A thank you. A hero welcome for all the sacrifices I make for this family!” he screamed the last words into her face.
Luna flinched, but he didn’t let her move.
“And what do I get when I come home?!” he shouted at her face. “Instead of my fucking wife welcoming me at the door, she is out there babying children who can care for themselves.”
Care for themselves? Their oldest was six!
“Spending all of her time spoiling them rotten!” Cato accused her, anyway. “While I have to be welcomed by the fucking staff!”
He let her go, practically pushing her, and Luna relied on the wall to not just fall down as he moved across the room.
Cato’s hand moved to his wrist, taking off his watch and unbuttoning his jacket, shedding it and tossing it away.
“I’ve entertained that stupid habit of yours too long,” he decided, taking off his belt. “You want to baby someone so much, I’ll give you another baby to dote on.”
Luna stared at him, the words hitting her like lightning.
“I don’t need another baby,” she spoke back, finding her words suddenly. “We have two babies. Our youngest is 7 months old, and Archie is just-”
“He’s gonna be two soon,” he interrupted her, turning to face her, not looking any affected by her protests. “Victor weaned around that age. And Gunner is older than Archer was when you got pregnant with him.”
She swallowed down.
That didn’t mean anything!
Luna had been pregnant for six years straight. She deserved a break – she needed a break!
“I don’t want another baby.”
Cato just glanced at her, dismissive as he unbuttoned his shirt.
“If you’re not going to brush your teeth, then lay with your belly down, I don’t want your morning breath on my face.”
She stared at him.
Hadn’t he heard her?
“I don’t want to have sex,” she mumbled. “I’m not in the mood for it.”
She hadn’t been in the mood for it for a while.
Her husband paused, looking at her with a straight face, as if she was just one of the boys and was saying something stupid and silly.
“Well, darling, I don’t quite recall being able to pick when I do or don’t do something,” Cato pointed out.
He walked to her, shirt half open and eyes as cold as now as he took her chin in his hand, rubbing his thumb over her lower lip.
“Lay down, Luna,” he told her. “You can keep the dress if you want to.”
She swallowed down, shuddering, and squeezed her hands in fists, and he walked to an open suitcase at the corner of the room, and he took something from inside.
She heard some rattling and he walked back to her, holding something in his hand.
“Brutus found me a doctor who got you something nice,” he told her. “It’ll help you be less miserable.”
Luna looked down on his hand, but he just pulled her chin down.
“Open up, wife,” he spoke slowly.
She complied slowly and felt him place something on her tongue before pushing her mouth closed.
“Go on,” Cato commanded. “Swallow.”
She shuddered but complied, and he nodded slowly.
“There you go, good wife,” he praised, dead-panned. “Aren’t you glad I take such good care of you?”
Luna nodded meekly.
“I’ll get the lube from the drawer, and you can just lay down and be pretty,” he said simply. “Do you understand that?”
She nodded again, lowering her eyes.
“Good girl,” Cato praised condescendingly.
He stepped back, and she strode to the bed slowly, tense.
It was fine. He was her husband, she had a duty.
At least he didn’t hurt her.
Luna lay down, fluffing her pillow under her and hiding her face in it, it smelled nice with her sweet shampoo, and Cato didn’t seem to mind as she tapped her fingers to the beating of the first song she could think of as her eyes got wet.
The national anthem. They had played it on TV last night.
It was nice.
It helped her pretend she wasn’t there.
Notes:
Luna's party outfit.
Luna's sleepwear/back.Ages of characters now:
Luna: 25 years old
Cato: 25 years old
Cato "Prince" II: 6 years and 5 months old
Hunter: 5 years and 6 months old
Victor "Teddy" Hadley, born on the 29th of November of the year of the 77th Hunger Games: 3 years and 8 months old
Archer “Archie” Hadley, born on the 12th of October of the year of the 79th Hunger Games: 1 year and 9 months old
Gunner "Sweetie/Sweet Boy" Hadley, born on the 22nd of December of the year of the 80th Hunger Games: 7 months old
Chapter 6: YEAR 10: If I smile with my teeth (1/3)
Summary:
Alternative title “I trusted you to be kind, and look what it cost me.”
On the Headley's 10th anniversary, they pretend to the Capital. Then, to their family and friends. Then, to themselves.
Notes:
Check the end notes for details such as what we imagined with the visuals, and details of age.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Luna twisted the eternity ring just placed over her wedding ring, too uncomfortable with it to leave it be.
She could take it off after.
Cato wouldn’t mind, right? It was just a symbol.
It was uncomfortable.
She had gotten used to the actual wedding ring, she didn’t feel the stones of it anymore, but the spikes were rubbing off on her middle finger every time she moved her fingers.
Their day had started very early. Ellyn had come over to adjust the new dress on her – and made sure to point out how they had to make a smaller belly for her to wear for the interview and pictures than the old one so ‘it would match her being 5 months pregnant’.
It was only the eighth time they made her put that damn thing on, after all.
The dress was pretty nice, lose, and it kind of reminded her of her wedding dress but in blue.
It was... nice.
It absolutely made her look five months pregnant, because they all thought she didn’t look five months pregnant now.
But Luna had endured. She endured the belly, and the heels, and the hair, and the half hour of photos in the garden and their living room.
Like she was enduring this.
“You know, I’m still so impressed every time I see it,” Caesar explained. “It’s so realistic.”
Luna smiled stiffly to Caesar.
Yes, the bust she had done of him just months ago.
“Too realistic, actually,” Caesar leaned in, his projection glitching just slightly when he did so. “Can I send it back to you and maybe you can smooth a few things?”
She laughed forcefully, feeling Cato’s harm firmly on her waist, his fingers right against the curve of the foam.
“I love your face,” she affirmed simply. “It was very nice to sculpt, Caesar, I promise.”
Cato’s free hand squeezed her thigh, and she knew well to place her hand over his as their interviewer laughed, absolutely amused.
It was their anniversary – the official one, the legal one.
Ten years together, ten years of… this.
“She is incredibly talented,” Cato praised her, his blue eyes focusing right on her, warm and soft.
Luna wasn’t a victor, or a person of interest for anyone, not really.
That meant she wasn’t required to play into the games of entertainment as much as Cato did. But every now and then, on special dates or special occasions, she was meant to be remembered as his wife.
His prize for winning the games and becoming a hero for their District – a favourite in their home, nonetheless.
“I get completely lost when I’m watching her work, Caesar,” he turned back to face the big camera positioned perfectly to look like they were looking at Caesar Flickerman’s eyes. “And she looked way happier sculpting you than she looks when she is sculpting me, I don’t know what to think of that.”
Caesar laughed more and she shook her head, holding a fake smile on her face.
“Actually, she doesn’t even ask me to pose for her anymore,” Cato squeezed her fingers. “Whenever she gets anything about me, she just goes to work and I only know it is a work centring me when I look at it!”
More laughs, as it was all a big joke.
Luna patted his hand with hers.
“Well, I know your face,” she reminded him, and turned to Caesar. “I know every little bit of his face, I’m reminded of it every day.”
Caesar put a hand over his chest, so impressed.
“Oh, you two are my absolute favourite couple, you must know that,” he affirmed, and crossed his legs as he watched them both. “You’ve been married for ten whole years. Ten years!”
“Ten years,” Cato echoed it.
Caesar watched them for a moment, seeming very impressed.
“I don’t know how you do it, Luna,” he focused on her again. “You have seven kids, a beautiful career, a perfect marriage, and you look even more beautiful than the first time I met you, ten years ago. Are you absolutely certain you’ve had seven kids?”
The laughter that left her lips was a mixture of shock and nervousness.
Oh, God.
“I am,” she spoke in between laugher, and it almost sounded like she was trying to mimic the sound of a sheep. "I don’t think I would forget something like that.”
Luna sought Cato’s eyes. They had agreed on not talking about the kids, he had assured her that. It was why she had even sat down for a full interview!
“Then you must tell us your secret,” Caesar insisted. “Because you don’t look a day over 20!”
She turned to him again, shocked for a moment.
Twenty eight. She was twenty-eight.
And of course there was a secret, he had to know.
Cato always brought that stuff from the Capitol – the pills and creams and serums and whatever else he wanted her to use to stay looking… attractive, in his own words. Hot.
‘So she wouldn’t use the kids as an excuse to let herself go’.
And God knew how much more the Capitol had available for purchase – she could see it on Caesar’s face!
Cato squeezed her side, taking her attention back to him, and raised his eyebrows to remind her to speak up.
“Oh,” she gasped, and looked at the camera. “I… I don’t think I’m supposed to say that on TV?”
Her husband laughed aloud, and their interview followed suit as she felt her whole face burning in embarrassment.
“Oh, please,” Caesar insisted. “Now I need to know.”
But Cato patted her hand.
“Please, Caesar, my in-laws are watching us,” he reminded him.
He squeezed her hand, maybe trying to comfort her, and Luna squeezed back, trying to keep her smile on her face.
Finally, the focus was taken from her as Caesar started asking Cato questions.
He asked about their marriage and their boys, and all about what life was like.
She didn’t focus on it at all, just watching them, mentally gone, and owas only brought up when Cato squeezed her hand and looked at her face fully.
“I never knew it was possibly to love someone for so much for so long,” he affirmed, looking into her eyes.
Luna softened, and he kissed the back of her hand sweetly as she turned to look at Caesar again.
“I can’t imagine my life without her, I can’t imagine not having her,” he affirmed.
The camera behind Cato made a sound as it zoomed closer to her face, and she focused on Cato’s face fully, not wanting to be caught staring at it. His eyes were so sweet, weren’t they?
He was so sweet when he wanted to be.
“I don’t think I would ever be happy without you,” he affirmed.
She smiled softly, lowering her eyes, clasping his hand in hers.
Cato wasn’t a man of words. It was nice to hear him saying them – though the cameras weren’t the most welcomed addition.
“What about you, Luna?” Caesar asked.
Luna turned to him, surprised for a moment.
Her? What about her?
Cato squeezed her hand, and she breathed in deep.
“I’m so sorry,” she tried to find her focus. “What was the question?”
They both laughed, and she had to force a smile onto her face. What was so funny?
“You can’t stop looking at him!” Caesar exclaimed. “Everybody, she can’t stop looking at him!”
Her stomach flipped and twisted in discomfort.
“I…” she looked for words.
Words. She needed to say words.
“I don’t know,” she laughed nervous. “I…”
She pressed her lips together, and put a hand over his, squeezing as Cato watched her.
“I don’t know what my life would be without him, Cato is…” she paused, trying to find words for it. “He’s… everything. It feels like there’s a divide from before I met him and then after I met him. From my life before, and then after.”
It wasn’t a lie. Who she used to be – Luna Elettra, daughter of Julius and Loba, just a girl – felt like a blurry picture in her mind.
Those ten years felt like they lasted maybe double, or triple, or ten times more than they really did.
She stared up at Cato.
How could she love someone and yet ache for a time when she didn’t know he existed?
Luna shook her head, feeling an uncomfortable warmth creeping up her neck and face, tingly and invasive.
“I’m so sorry, I’m so bad with words,” she apologised.
That was probably a horrible take.
“No, no, it is beautiful,” Caesar affirmed before she could even continued. “You love him so much.”
She smiled a little bit to the camera.
She did, yes.
“I do,” Luna agreed. “I can’t live my life without him. I can’t imagine what… how…”
Her hands squeezed his more, and she couldn’t help the nervous tears coming up her eyes.
Couldn’t he take over and say something? Cato liked the attention, he knew what to say, why did he expect her to say all the words?
Cato leaned in and kissed her cheek.
“It’s alright,” he spoke softly, squeezing her hands, and he turned to the camera as Luna lowered her eyes.
“Our family is the most important thing in our lives,” he husband affirmed, still holding her close. “We are very happy to celebrate such a moment together and share such a milestone of it with our friends at the Capitol.”
Caesar shifted on his seating, sounding very happy with what he was hearing.
“And you have a wonderful family indeed!” he affirmed. “I heard your oldest is almost 10, is that right?”
Luna’s eyes shot right up to him and then she focused on Cato.
“He is,” her husband agreed.
“What are their ages?” Caesar asked. “Can you remember without going through a list?”
Cato laughed at the joke, but she just kept her eyes on him so as to not glare at anyone. Who wouldn’t remember the ages of their children?”
“Well, our oldest is nine,” he affirmed. “Then our second is eight, our third is six...” he stuck his fingers out. “Our forth is four, but he is about to turn five in a few months, our fifth is three, our sixth is almost two and a half, and our youngest turned one just a couple of months ago.”
“And you’re pregnant with the eighth!” Caesar exclaimed, sounding impressed and amused. “All seven boys.”
She forced herself to look at him, knowing it was a question to her.
“All seven boys,” Luna parroted.
“And the next one is…”
She smiled nervously, but Cato laughed.
“A boy,” he told him. “Due to late December or early January.”
Luna turned right to him, her face frozen in a smile, unblinking.
“Not a girl, again,” Caesar lamented. “I’m so sorry for you, Luna. They must be a handful.”
Cato laughed out, but she didn’t even think of doing that when she turned to the camera.
“They are perfect,” she corrected him. “Perfect children.”
Caesar seemed to be taken back for a moment, and Cato patted her hand softly, squeezing it.
“They are,” he affirmed. “Perfect boys. And we are very grateful for whatever child we have, we have no gender preference. We welcome boys as happily as we would welcome a girl, right, darling?”
He looked at her, and Luna nodded, as she watched his eyes as he took her hand up and kissed her knuckles.
“Right,” she agreed, turning back to Caesar. “We’re just happy they are healthy and joyful kids.”
Caesar Flickerman smiled to them, nodding along.
“Well, it was so wonderful to speak to the two of you,” he affirmed. “Luna, please don’t become a stranger, do you hear me? I don’t want to have to spend money to have a moment to speak to you.”
She just forced out a laugh.
Oh, how she wished she could indeed become a stranger.
“Cato, thank you very much for convincing her to join us today,” he pointed at him. “Everyone, a round of applause for Cato and our Capitol’s delight, Mrs Luna Hadley.”
The nickname made her hands feel as cold as a winter day, and a fake sound of applause echoed from one of the sound boxes.
“This is Caesar Flickerman, thank you for-”
The transmission cut out, probably for Caesar to round of his show however he liked it, and Luna fell right to back of the couch, resting against it as her body relaxed for a minute.
Done.
“Well, this is a wrap, everybody,” the transmission team clapped. “Let’s get this party moving, we have a train to catch.”
Cato let her hand go, and she watched the trio move for a bit under his watchful eyes.
Interviews were like choosing between two evils.
After ten years, Luna had gotten quite the skill in reading and steering Augusta and Tiberius in a way they didn’t realise they were been stirred. She managed to keep them happy and away from things she didn’t enjoy, so it was easier to keep their privacy and boundaries with the two of them. On the other hand, it meant receiving them at their house, and being hyperaware of every step they took for at least six hours of a visit.
With Caesar, interviews were shorter, and the transmission team took exactly 30 minutes to set up a room and then take everything apart and leave. However, Caesar asked more questions, he always wanted to know more, and he often ignored request to not speak about some other things. And of course, his interviews were either live interviews or recorded to be played pretending they were live on TV, so that meant there were no cuts and everything that happened – what they did and what they said – was shown, and there was none of the strategic cutting that happened with Augusta and Tiberius.
Both were terrible in different ways, so she had to pick how tired she wanted to be at the end of it.
Caesar’s interview was less exhausting, so when Cato came and told her they had to choose, Caesar Flickerman it was.
“Thank you for your visit,” she offered the team, putting her hand over her dress, rubbing her hands over the fake belly.
It was nice foam, at least.
The team thanked her back without much energy, just packing as quickly as they could.
They didn’t like District 2. Actually, they didn’t like to be at any District, so that was actually very nice.
Less people to pretend to.
Luna stood up, kicking off her heels and walking to the kitchen, drinking some water as she listened to the commotion in the living room.
Ten years of marriage.
They were having a party to celebrate at night, with all the Elites and victors of their district.
Cato’s idea, of course.
Who wouldn’t want to celebrate how happily married they’d been for ten years?
It was a lifetime for some people.
She leaned against the counter, feeling her mind distant, and exhaled when she felt Cato’s hands slowly moving over her back and her shoulders, rubbing circles on them.
“There you are,” he hummed.
Luna closed her eyes, letting her head fall forward for a moment, trying not to shrug off the soft touch, breathing in and trying to relax as he deepened it.
Cato was very quiet as he rubbed his thumbs on her back muscles, making her relax, working on some knots she seemed to develop every time something about the Capitol came up.
“Everyone is gone,” he assured her, moving his thumbs down her spine, into her dress. “You want me to take off that stupid thing for you?”
She didn’t need to look or ask what the ‘stupid thing was’, and nodded.
Fucking foam belly.
Cato’s hand moved to the nape of her neck again, unzipping her slowly down to the hips, and she felt as he unclasped the thing around her, pulling it off of her body, and her skin cooled as the feeling of being freed.
“That’s ridiculous,” he mumbled, setting it on the counter. “I hate that they make you wear that.”
Luna looked back at him, but he seemed to be quite busy as he massaged her lower back as well.
“They always do that,” she mumbled. “Since Prince.”
She was tall – the doctor always said she had a lot of space in her torso to fit the babies.
“Doesn’t stop it from being stupid,” he grumbled, fingers tracing down to her shoulders. “You look so pretty, darling.”
She closed her eyes, letting her head fell forward.
“Thank you,” she mumbled.
Cato’s fingers pushed the back of her dress away slowly, and Luna let her arms down to let it slip, not thinking about it.
Half of the kids were at school now, and the nannies only came down with the little ones for lunchtime.
She shivered when his hand came around her torso, warm and soft-skinned as he palmed her breasts, fuller now from pregnancy.
“Always love how your tits get bigger when you’re carrying my baby,” he kissed her neck.
Luna let her eyes fall closed, the feeling of his lips so unusual now.
“My beautiful wife,” Cato praised.
She felt herself warm, his touches making her shiver and soften instinctively.
His fingers pinched her nipple, tugging and squeezing, and Luna whined a little bit, the sound pried from her lips.
“Pretty milky tits,” Cato hummed. “Love to spend my time kissing them.”
Did he? It’d been… quite long.
She opened her eyes, watching his fingers move, the feeling and image a strange disconnect in her brain.
He could play her like a fiddle.
Cato’s free hand pushed her hair out of the way and she raised her head right away, gasping in surprise when his teeth came to her earlobe.
“Relax,” her husband hummed. “There’s no one here to catch us.”
The muscle of her back gave a little spasm in response, and she inhaled deeply.
Relax, yes. It would be uncomfortable if she didn’t.
His short nails teased her skin, over her nipple like a scratch.
“It’s our house.”
Luna closed her eyes, and a chuckle came to her without her permission. He’d said that when she got her studio.
She still remembered the day he’d first taken her in that cramped little bedroom, his face right against her chest as he pried her legs spread under the soft lamplight.
He kissed and licked her chest like he wanted to suck her sanity from her skin and into his mouth, like he could bite a piece of her for himself and chew – and he did in a way, after. Many times.
Her dress bunched in the top, still tight around her mid-drift and chest even without the fake belly, made to show off her shape to everyone.
The tulle at the hem itched her skin on its way up as Cato pulled the flowy layers of the skirt up.
His hand was as careless as he always was as it moved, pulling her underwear insistently on the side, the tug hurting her skin as it ripped.
Cato sounded very please when he felt it give up, and Luna closed her eyes, happy to be at least ready for him to push himself inside now, focusing lightly on the clock on the wall.
11:20.
The cook would arrive in forty minutes.
There was a lot to do for the party, but it didn’t surprise her Cato was seeking her now. Usually, she would expect him to do so at night, probably after a calmer day like a Wednesday or a Sunday, when his mornings and afternoons were emptier.
But it was their anniversary, after all.
People liked spending their anniversaries together.
Cato’s hips pressed to hers through the dress when he kissed the nape of her neck.
She remembered their first anniversary – the real one, one of the few times they celebrated the actual date of their marriage. He was busy with everything – with his first games as a mentor coming up – but he made sure to fill up their houses with flowers and have a new ceremony with her right there in their new house.
It was beautiful.
Cato bent her a bit more over the counter, and Luna inhaled a moment, shocked, when she felt her nipples against the cold stone.
“Don’t move,” he told her.
She didn’t.
He clicked his tongue, pleased, as if this was rare, speaking something she didn’t mind focusing on.
Luna expected him to take her, to push himself right into her, but he didn’t.
Instead, his hand travelled up between her legs, caressing her thighs.
She put her hands together, laying her head on the counter.
The ice dispenser needed to be filled up with water.
A tight circle around her clit made her jump and inhale in surprise, and Cato squeezed her middle tightly, whispering something she couldn’t quite catch as Luna’s back stiffened.
Cato knew how to play her body, it wasn’t hard science. It was eleven years, after all.
But why?
“Open up,” he spoke a little firmer. “Be a good girl.”
Luna blinked down, the soft pleasure almost fleeting in her mind.
Be a good girl.
She clenched her fingers on the marble counter, trying to focus on the feeling of his fingers between her legs, and moaned a little at the wet of his digits moving from her entrance to her sensitive clit, and jumped, startled, at his teeth brushing a spot on the curve of her neck – not biting, but scratching with his teeth;
Luna could barely hear his voice as he spoke behind her, her focus so hard to direct, and he said something behind her, but she couldn’t quite focus.
It was almost a little echo, how he used to call her a good girl so much, dangling pleasure and praise and affection over her head so expertly.
How she used to love chasing it, lapping onto every droplet and crumb like an addict.
The sparkle of pleasure made Luna whimper, Cato’s fingers much more insistent than ever in so long.
His fingers. His fingers felt good, she should focus on that, she should take that.
She should take what she was given.
“Please,” she whimpered to her own self.
Couldn’t she enjoy one single fucking thing?
Cato mouthed at her skin and her toes curled against the cool floor as his voice came out as a lost wave of sound.
Fingers. Clit.
Side to side, up and down and circles.
Tight circles.
Luna chased the pleasure like a slit of sunlight behind bars.
“-for me,” he grunted. “Wanna feel you wetting my fingers.”
She let out a single breath of a cry when she tipped into the edge, holding onto the counter to stand up right.
It was a strange feeling, somehow. Half-unfamiliar after so long without it, like a spoonful of sugar after months of flavourless food.
Just five years ago – four? Maybe three and a half if she was to be generous – it was a routine to fall apart in his arms. Every night he would make her lose her mind, float and only know him.
Luna missed it. She missed him so much.
Why did it feel like they were on their last legs?
Her eyes filled up with tears she couldn’t control, the pleasure so very brief. How had just a few years turned them from being so close to standing so far apart?
They weren’t even 30, she was still going to turn 29 at the end of the year.
They had seven wonderful children. Didn’t the boys deserve to see their mother and father being completely and absolutely in love like Luna herself had seen her own parents?
Maybe dad’s job was their secret. It certainly sounded easy to spend a few days out of a season with someone, and then just live your life apart from them. Maybe that was what preserved their passion for one another.
But Cato would never accept living away from her and the kids, that was a stupid thought.
And she couldn’t do it alone, anyway. Seven boys, nearly eight of them, on her own?
No, that was ridiculous to even think of entertaining.
They would hate her.
Besides, he was all she knew.
She gasped when Cato turned her around suddenly, and raised her eyes to his, finding him watching her with the softest gaze.
Cato rested his forehead on hers, holding her close, and Luna inhaled deeply, the smell of his skin suddenly grounding her.
“You’re all mine,” he hummed.
Sweet baby blue eyes, the colour of the sky and the sweet candy floss of her boys’ parties.
She remembered drawing and painting them onto paper, calling them baby boy eyes.
His thumb caressed her wet cheek and he kissed her lips, and Luna let herself fall into the motion of it, the taste of tears sharp in her mouth as his arms wrapped around her waist and her picked her up.
Cato carried her into the living room, and Luna breathed out when he laid her in the couch, standing over her.
Luna watched his hand moving down to his belt, undoing it, and her eyes moved up to his face for a moment, focusing on his eyes, but he looked as distant as she felt.
So much for being… adventurous? She wouldn’t know. This was not something she expected him to do.
Still, she spread her legs on their couch and tugged her skirt up, and tried to keep her eyes on his the way he liked when he put himself between her thighs, cock in hand as he stroked it.
Luna took in a deep breath, grateful he’d taken his time in the kitchen as he pushed into her, the lube was too far away, and closed her eyes for a moment at the feeling.
It felt nice, a bit. In the grand scheme of things, it was like being massaged, and when she started realising it was as good as it would get, it was a fine feeling.
Her mind drifted off again, her body arching at how he pushed into her – impatient, mechanical.
“Gonna put another little champion inside you for your 30th birthday,” he chuckle, too amused. “You’ll see.”
Luna opened her eyes, staring at him for a moment, lost.
What?
He pressed himself into her, ready to lay on top of her, but Luna stopped him with a hand on his chest.
“What did you say?”
Cato’s eyes focused completely on her, and he sighed, rolling his eyes.
“Luna, we’re in the middle-”
“What did you say?” she repeated, the words sharper when she repeated them.
Another little champion.
When he didn’t even attempt to speak, she pushed him away.
“Get off of me.”
Cato fell back without a word, groaning in annoyance.
“Can’t we fuck once like two normal people?” he pinched the bridge of his nose.
She glared at him, pulling the top of her dress up again.
“You speak as if we have ever been normal,” she grunted, the bitterness of it all sipping into her voice as she stood up, covering herself. “What did you mean with another champion?”
He wasn’t trying to get the boys into that stupid mindset of his, was he?
“Our sons aren’t going to be tributes!” Luna affirmed emphatic.
That seemed to be what got his attention fully, and when his eyes met with hers, they were full of a fire she had never seen directed at her before.
“My sons are going to follow their father’s footsteps,” Cato spoke up, his voice louder than hers, his tone firm and final as if she had no say in that. “And they’re gonna bring honour to their district like I did ten years ago.”
Luna stared at him, feeling her heart sinking. Bring honour to their district? After ten years off being treated like a pet by the Capitol, tossed around between people, sold at auctions…
That was how he still saw everything!
“I don’t want-”
He crossed the space between them before she could continue her phrase.
“What you want doesn’t matter,” Cato grabbed her arm. “Being victors is their purpose!”
Luna turned to look at his hand around her forearm, surprised by the sudden hold, and raised her chin to him.
“It is not their purpose, they are children!” she spat back on his face.
Her chest tightened as she tried to keep her voice steady. What did he think? That she was going to endure seeing someone she loved fighting for his life again? Wasn’t one time enough?
“They are growing up!” he argued back, voice rising. “The boy is nearly a man already! He’s turning 10 in months, at his age I was already a fighter!”
He let her go, stepping back, as if their conversation was over and his decision was final.
“I have already found him a tutor, Cato is going to be the best in the academy like his father before him,” he simply moved back to adjusting his clothes like nothing had happened. “And so will all of them.”
He spoke it nonchalantly, like he was saying the sky was blue and he was a man. Like he was speaking of someone he was training, not their children. Their babies!
Luna’s hands balled into fists.
“I’m not watching our sons die in the Hunger Games!” Luna corrected him.
Cato turned to her, his blue eyes cold as they met hers, none of the softness of minutes ago present in them.
“So you would rather them be like you!” he accused, staking a sharp step in her direction. “Incapable? Fucking useless?”
She stared at him, his words hitting her like salt on wounds. Luna knew herself, those weren’t new words. They were new on his lips, though.
But that wasn’t what hurt her the most.
“You’d rather them be abused?” she argued back, unable to hold her tongue. “Sold off like objects?”
Cato grabbed her arm again, tighter and even more careless as his eyes burnt into hers, but she wasn’t done speaking.
“Whored off-”
She felt rather than saw what he did next, the force of his slap so hard it hurt even her lip, the ache echoing through her whole head and neck with the force of the whiplash.
“Say one more fucking word!” he growled, his fingers digging into her arm as his eyes burned into hers, his face so close he was all she could see.
Luna clenched her teeth, tense.
He’d never done that. Yes, Cato grabbed her, but he had never touched her like that – not in a way that hurt.
She had lost all her words as the taste of blood filled her mouth.
And then she heard the sound of the door opening, and his eyes widened before he took his hand away from her like she was burning fire.
Luna rushed to finish covering herself as he stepped walked away from her, and rushed to see the door as the nannies walked in with the boys.
Of course, Prince, Hunter and Ted were coming home from school earlier because of the party. It was midday already.
"My boys!" she celebrated, breathless, trying to keep her face straight.
"Mama!" Ted exclaimed, running to her, followed by Prince and Hunter right away.
She knelt down to greet them, kissing their cheeks and faces softly.
"Hello, my smart boys," she greeted them eagerly.
Prince and Hunter were in the same class now - her little honey boy was already a big reader already. Actually, he was reading since he was three, but she didn't want the school to push him to much, so she just agreed to let him bump up to Prince's class, and they were on fourth grade together.
It was good for them, it meant they were never alone. Ted was on second grade, and while Archie was in Kindergarten now, he had skipped class as stayed home with the other boys, he wouldn't miss much by not going, and he adored playing with Lex, so it was no big deal for him.
"Mama, your face is red," Hunter told her suddenly.
"Are you hurt?" Prince asked, not even give her a second to answer his brother.
She looked at him and then at the nannies, and Pietra's eyes traced down her for a moment before she put on a smile on her face as she heard Cato's steps on the stairs.
"What?" Luna reached for him. "No honey. I..."
She closed her mouth, looking for words – for a good lie.
"I was laughing so hard from a joke," she pretended to giggle. "And now I'm all red on my face. Why would I be hurt?"
Luna kissed his cheek quickly.
"And you three must be so hungry," she added quickly. "I think we should make some light lunch and prepare for our party tonight, right, girls?"
The nannies agreed in a very non-enthusiastic sound, and Pietra came around her swiftly, closing her dress on the back without calling any attention to it.
"You know, the cook told me he left a surprise for you three in the fridge last night!" Pietra told them.
"And then, I'll show you the fancy clothes Ellyn sent for you!" Luna added. "You'll love it."
She rushed them into the kitchen, still feeling her heart pumping hard, and smiled at Prince when he turned to look at her, still mistrustful.
Her face was hurting.
Please, don't bruise. Please, don’t bruise.
Luna waited for them to be out of her sight before she moved to the corridor to look at her face in the mirror, adjusting to the light.
It was red, but it wasn't too much.
Some icing would help, it would be gone by the night.
She swallowed down, watching her own face for a moment, the reality of it sinking into her like a block of cement in a river.
Cato had slapped her.
She clenched her jaw, moving her hand down.
He had never done that. He had never touched her like that before.
Of course, there was the careless way he treat her, sometimes.
It was normal in marriages to fall out of passion with someone. They weren't teenagers anymore, they had the kids and responsibilities. She could never expect their marriage to be what it was at the beginning.
But even their fights were just verbal. Of course, he had that habit of his of being too close or yelling at her face when he was too stressed, and she was used to it, but he never...
She never thought he could...
Luna clenched her hands.
He loved her. He always said he loved her.
And someone who loves someone doesn't slap them.
She would never slap him.
Luna swallowed down, feeling every little cell of her screaming and blood pumping too loud in her ears, and she reached for the drawer under the mirror, but the orange bottle wasn't there.
She just moved to the stairs, just walking up to the master suit, but she stopped by the door when she caught sight of Cato inside, with his back turned to her, and turned on her heels to leave.
"I know you're there already," he spoke up quickly.
Luna just stopped, breathing out, and he turned around, just offering the closed bottle.
"Ellyn sent it with the clothes."
She didn't reach out for him, just looked away, and Cato sighed.
"You're pink," he accused, walking in her direction.
Luna couldn't move fast enough, he just lifted her chin and turned her head to look at her face, as if it was something he had never seen before.
As if he wasn't the cause of it.
"Someone slapped me," Luna mumbled.
He let her face go so fast it shocked her, and he looked away, flustered.
She couldn't even look at his face as he walked away, already impatient, wounded already.
"The boys asked questions," Luna warned him. "They were worried."
Cato let out a loud breath, stepping right back to her.
"What did you say?" he asked, urged, grabbing her arm. "What did you tell them?"
He didn't squeeze it too tightly, but it was enough to make her wince, his fingers wrapped around the same place as minutes before.
"You're hurting me," Luna warned him.
Cato's grip came lose, but he was still close to her, bringing his face close to hers.
"What did you tell them?" he insisted.
Luna swallowed down, the urgency and fear in his eyes a shock.
"I said I was laughing about a joke," she hissed. "That's why I'm pink."
He swallowed down hard, Adam's apple bobbing in reaction.
"Did they believe you?"
She stared at him a moment, speechless, the desperation in him a shock.
When was the last time he was even so open with her?
"I don't know," she mumbled. "I think they did?"
Cato took her face in his hand, rubbing his thumb right under the ache on her cheek.
"I didn't mean to," he told her quickly. "I didn't want to hurt you. You know that."
She swallowed down, still shocked.
"It was not..." he strumbled. "I didn't..."
He opened and closed his mouth, like a fish out of the water, and grabbed her face with his other hand, making her look at him fully.
"I lost control," Cato affirmed, very firmly. "And I did something I didn't mean."
Luna blinked, still frozen.
"Okay," she mumbled, unable to move away from him.
If he said so, then-
"No," Cato squeezed her jaw. "You have to understand. I did not mean. I'm not... I'm not the kind of man who does that."
He looked terrified, like he had just woken up from the a terrifying nightmare and was trying to find a grip on reality.
"You know that," he insisted, his thumb pressing into her skin, making the spot on her cheek hurt where he was holding her. "You know that, Luna. I'm not that kind of husband."
She tried not to flinch as she grabbed his wrist.
"You're not," she agreed. "You're not that kind of husband."
Cato nodded hard, and let his hand be taken away when she tugged on it.
"You know I didn't want to hurt, we just-"
But she didn't want to talk, not now. This was enough.
"Later," Luna interrupted him. "We have a party today. My family is coming, we can talk later."
Luna could feel the old feeling rising inside her.
Like one more brush of touch or one more scream, or the wrong word was going to set it all off in her mind and it would lock her inside it.
One more trial and she would implode.
Cato didn't pressed her, simply nodding one more time, and she looked at her hand when he just pressed the bottle to her hand.
"Three will help you sleep quickly," he told her softly. "There's something in the bag to help you stay awake."
Luna swallowed down, uncomfortable, but squeezed the bottle.
"What about you?"
He rubbed a hand over his face, brushing his hair back with his fingers.
"I'll... let you know when they're here," he told her. "I'll give the nannies the boys' clothes. I'll hold the fort."
She just nodded, quiet and uncomfortable, doing what he said.
It was fine, it was Capitol medicine.
It was safe for pregnancy.
Luna was already drowsy by the time the Capitol dress was pooled at her feet, and she just slipped into bed in her underwear, pulling the covers up.
It was fine. She was fine. The party was going to be fine.
Notes:
Luna's interview outfit (yes, including the fake belly look). Full body. Closeup. Back.
Ages of character now, on the 7th of September of the year of the 84th Hunger Games
Luna: 28 years old
Cato: 29 years old
Cato “Prince” II: 9 years and 7 months old
Hunter: 8 years and 7 months old
Victor “Teddy” : 6 years and 9 months old
Archer “Archie”: 4 years and 10 months old
Gunner “Sweetie/Sweet Boy”: 3 years and 7 months old
Sawyer “Sammy” Hadley, born on the 28th of April of the year of the 82nd Hunger Games: 2 years and 4 months old.
Alexander “Lex” Hadley, born on the 30th of June of the year of the 83rd Hunger Games: 1 year and 2 months old/14 months oldExtra characters we'll see: Loba Elletra, 48. Julius Elletra, 50. Juno Elletra, 26. Julia Lyme, 53.
Chapter 7: YEAR 10: If I smile with my teeth (2/3)
Summary:
Luna and Cato discuss what happened in the morning and welcome her family. It would be inconsiderate to ruin everyone's fun with something as silly as a fight.
Notes:
Check the end notes for details such as what we imagined with the visuals, and details of age.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
There was still a heavy warm sensation on Luna's body when she felt someone shaking her arm, and it was hard to pull away from unconsciousness as she sat up mechanically, barely able to focus both her eyes on the woman in front of her.
"Your hair and make up team is here, ma'am," she told her. "They are waiting to come up."
She fought the sleepiness, shaking her head.
"I'll shower," she mumbled. "They can come up."
She felt rather than saw her slip something into her hand.
"Mr Hadley said you should take this," the woman told her, sounding uncomfortable. "It'll make you feel better."
That had too be one of the new girls.
"Thank you," she held the blanked to her chest, taking whatever she had given her and just swallowing it dryly. "Close the door on your way out."
The woman stepped away, leaving her and then the room, and Luna was happy to be alone when she stood up, almost stumbling if it wasn't for the bedside table to hold onto.
Shower. She had to at least get into the bathroom before they arrived.
She walked into the bathroom with her eyes half closed, and sat down on the big bench inside the shower, letting the cold water wake her up before it warmed up.
By the time she had come out, the sleepiness had faded away, she was able to clean up and wash her hair, and the team had already taken over the bedroom when she walked inside again.
They were nice people, born and raised in her district and not at all associated with the Capitol, and after some years of torture, Luna had learned to expect their actions and they had learned not to be too crossing or intrude her space too much, and they had found a nice balance to getting dressed.
They worked on her face and hair expertly and in perfect sync, so smoothly she didn't mind it even half as much as she once did. It was so easy to get lost in the motions of it, she almost forgot where she was. If they had noticed the slight swell of her lip, then they were gracefully ignoring it.
And then, of course, the sound of laugher pulled her right back.
Her head snapped back before she could even think, and there it was again. Capitol laugher, fake and smooth and with the bubbliest and most disgusting kind of inflection.
Cato's laugher. He was probably getting ready in his closet.
Luna swallowed down. It was a fake sound, obviously. It was how he laughed to impress Capitol people, to look like he was part of them.
"Face forward, don't forget," Ellie called, grabbing her chin.
She moved without thinking, the motion a full reaction. In a minute she was feeling herself being grabbed, in the other, Luna was grabbing Ellie and pushing her arm away like she was riddled with the old plague.
Everyone stopped moving, staring at her, and she let Ellie's wrist go.
The warmth climbed up her cheeks and neck right away.
"I'm sorry," she spoke up quickly. "I... don't..."
They all stared at her, wordless, and Luna could see every little look they were giving one another – quiet, wide-eyed, as if every little conversation was happening in their own brains.
"I don't like my face being grabbed," she mumbled.
Ellie's lips curled into a smile.
"Understandable," she decided. "I won't do it again."
Luna looked down. Great, now they were thinking things.
"I think we are done here," Mason spoke up, pinning the last braid into place. "And you ladies can get her the dress while I go get the shoes."
Luna nodded, still feeling her muscles still completely stiff.
"Can someone close the door?" she requested, glancing at Cato's closet through the mirror. "Please?"
Peter nodded simply, walking to it and closing the door before crossing the room again to her own closet.
The sounds muffled up enough and she stood up, waiting for him to be out of the room as Ellie and Huntress took her dress from where it was hanging, untying her robe and taking it off.
She was already used to being in her underwear around them, and they didn't even seem to care about it either. What Luna didn't expect was for them to stop midway through bringing it to her, looking at her with wide eyes and... pity.
She looked down at herself, frowning, but there was nothing to see. And then she caught sight of herself in the mirror.
The print of Cato's fingers on her skin was impossible to miss.
Oh, God.
Luna opened and closed her mouth for a moment, but she couldn't even come up with an excuse. Well, they didn't seem to be looking for one anyway. Ellie and Huntress just walked right to her, with big fake smiles plastered on their face.
"You'll look wonderful," Ellie exclaimed, moving to her side. "You look wonderful in this shade of white."
Luna clenched her teeth, just nodding with them. Of course.
Wasn’t the day getting better and better by the minute?
Huntress stood in front of her, adjusting the shoulder and sleeve of the dress – a long, lose sleeve – without even glancing at her face.
Ellie zipped the dress up, straightening quietly for a moment, and Peter came out of her closet with her shoes in hand, and they helped her put them on.
“There you go,” Ellie announced stiffly, her tone cheerful and completely out of place. “Work is done.”
The door of Cato’s closet opened right after that, and his Capitol team walked out of the room, giggling like they had just been having the best of times in there, and her husband walked into their room with a big smile on his face.
“Well, look at you,” he spoke up.
Luna faced him fully, and his team looked at them both with smirks, and she watched him quietly as he strode in her direction.
“You look beautiful in white,” he affirmed.
Cato reached out gently, touching her belly with his knuckles as she ran her tongue on her inner lip, nervously feeling the spot her teeth had hurt it. It still tasted like blood.
“And how’s my little boy?”
“Quiet,” she mumbled. “You know how he loves to wake me up in the middle of the night.”
“Little night owl,” Cato hummed, soft and light.
As if this was a normal night, as if he was just talking about the baby in a perfectly good day.
"How are you feeling?" he asked. "Tired? Hungry?"
She frowned a bit, still watching his face.
Why was that so important out of a sudden?
"I have a gift for you," he told her.
Luna breathed in deep. Another stupid gift, then.
"It's not a big thing," Cato warned her. "I thought it would be useful when I asked for it to be custom made."
She just watched him pulling a box from inside the pocket of his jacket, not caring about reaching for it.
Cato opened it himself anyway, and showed it to her with pride.
Earrings. The chunky kind.
Like the big rings, and the big necklaces with so many stones they hurt to wear.
He took them from inside, and Luna frowned when it showed one fully to her.
Those were... earplugs.
"Took some asking and explaining," he told her. "But the plug is from the store you usually buy from."
She looked up at his face, surprised.
That was... kind of him.
"Works the same," he told her. "And it looks pretty."
Luna watched his face for a moment before taking the box.
"Thank you."
"I'll put them on for you," he told her. "They match your dress very well."
She nodded, still watching him, and Cato moved all the softness and care in the world as he touched her and put the earrings in place, surprisingly light when he let it go.
He moved to the other side, and she breathed in at the smell of the Capitol perfume on him right as he moved back.
"There you go," her husband spoke. "You look beautiful."
Luna swallowed down, her brain still processing it all.
"I'm sorry about what happened," he told her softly. "Does your cheek still hurt?"
She shook her head, eyes still trained on him, and Cato reached up for her, making her fight a flinch when he touched her cheek softly, rubbing her skin with his thumb.
"I asked the cook to make the stuff you like," he told her. "And the boys are all pilling up on your parents and Juno."
Her eyes widened at the information.
"My parents have arried already?"
Her family was here?
Why hadn't he told her?
But Cato pressed his thumb to the skin of her chin, and she kept herself still in her spot, not moving as his eyes focused right on hers.
"They have, and they are already settled in their rooms," he told her, his voice very firm. "And the boys are entertaining them very happily since then, because they knew you needed your sleep and a moment of silence."
'And she still needed to get herself together' was what he didn't say aloud.
"Loba is very excited to see you and hear about the new baby," Cato told her, his eyes still on hers. "And spend time with the boys, and Julius said she is really looking into a weekend where she doesn't need to do anything but be a grandma. No cooking, no cleaning, no problems..."
She clenched her teeth.
Of course.
No problems.
Cato put on a charming smile.
"It's not every day she can spend the weekend with her favourite daughter and her grandbabies, don't you think?"
She nodded stiffly.
"Of course," she agreed.
He leaned in and pressed a cold kiss to her lips.
"Come on," he took her hand, tugging on it. "Cato, Hunter and Victor are very excited to show you their matching outfits."
She took in a deep breath.
Of course. The boys were so excited for the party, she didn't want them to be uncomfortable or worried.
They rarely got to go to any big party, their birthday celebrations were usually small and the elite parties Luna and Cato attended weren't for kids. They were probably hoping to have a good time.
It would be very selfish to ruin everyone's time.
At last, they walked down the stairs, with Cato’s hand holding hers firmly as they made their way to the boys’ playroom, and only then he let her go to open the door.
They were all there, dressed identically – to some adaptions, considering Lex, Sammy and her dear Sweet boy were a little too small to move well in trousers, so they were just wearing shorts that matched their older brothers.
And of course, her parents and Juno were all over them.
Mum was holding and bouncing Lex as he babbled away, and her father was roughing Sammy up, tossing him up, tossing him down, doing all things with him.
“Mama!” her boys exclaimed all together, a group echo.
“My babies!” she echoed back.
Oh, all five pairs of little legs ran right up to her, hugging her legs, jumping, trying to get attention.
“Look, mama!” Archie jumped. “Look, look, look at me.”
She chuckled, trying to touch everyone’s faces and look at them all at once.
“Look at me, mama,” Teddy called. “Grandma said I look handsome.”
“No, she said I look handsome!” Hunter called back.
“Aunt Juno said I look handsome!” Prince argued.
“Yes, yes,” Luna tried to catch up. “You all look so handsome!”
They did, the boys looked very adorable.
She brushed Teddy’s hair back. The nannies had probably been working very hard to keep them all clean and dressed up, but who could contain seven boys like that?
“It’s like seeing a bunch of pictures of Cato lined up,” her father laughed. “Do they have anything of us at all?”
Luna chuckled, touching Hunter’s face.
“Well, I tried my best,” she looked at him. “Hunter has my eye shape.”
She liked to think that, anyway.
“And the white of Lex’s eyes look at lot like yours,” Juno remarked.
Luna raised her eyebrows to her, and her sister just did the same back, smirking.
“So…” she asked. “Aren’t you coming to say hello?”
Luna softened, leaning in and giving the boys some forehead kisses before moving away and to them.
Juno jumped in right away, and nothing in the world felt like being held by her sister felt at that moment.
Luna melted into her hug, breathing out, squeezing Juno.
They didn’t hug much.
She squeezed her, closing her eyes, falling into her shoulder and breathing in, her smell so familiar it ached her.
“Alright, alright,” Juno rubbed her back. “No getting sappy on me.”
But she didn’t let her go.
The last time mum and dad had come to visit, Juno was busy with work. She couldn’t come.
This was the first time she was meeting Lex.
Luna squeezed her more, blinking the wetness in her eyes away, and Cato chuckled from the corner.
It was what made her move, the feeling of him watching – in a way.
It wouldn’t be nice to upset Juno.
“I missed you,” Luna mumbled, looking away from her face.
“Well, you are a little bit of a stranger,” Juno teased her, nudging her. “But I guess it’s hard to travel with that hoard.”
She forced herself to chuckle a little. Well, yes.
“We’re considering getting a van,” she told Juno, still a bit nervous. “15 seats, for all the kids and the nannies.”
There was no way they could travel without some nannies.
“It could fit us all,” she offered. “We could do a road trip sometimes. Explore the district.”
“I’ll show you around,” her father offered, reaching for her. “If you only remember to talk to me.”
She chuckled out, moving fully to face dad, and wrapped her arms around him as he did the same.
“There’s my moon girl,” he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You got so many boys now you’re counting me as one of them.”
Luna smiled up at him, and breathed out as he pulled back, reaching down for her and taking a hand to her belly, spreading his fingers wide.
“And there’s number eight,” he breathed out, smiling.
Luna mirrored his expression.
“Is he kicking yet?” dad asked.
She shifted his hand to where the baby’s foot last was, but he was very quiet.
“At night, when I’m trying to sleep, like every brother before him,” she breathed out. “But you can try.”
He chuckled, holding her for a moment, watching the belly, and Luna could see it in his eyes how he was trying not to show anything but happiness.
“And do you have a name yet?”
Luna was about too answer – maybe Jupiter or even Julius, they hadn’t make a choice yet.
But Cato spoke up before she did.
“Orion,” he told him. “Like the constellation.”
She forced the smile to remain on her face.
“Orion.”
Luna felt his hand right on her back, squeezing her shoulder.
“It matches his mother’s name,” he remarked. “And it keeps up with the sky theme you and your brother have on, right, darling?”
She nodded softly.
“Yeah,” she breathed out.
Cato always chose the boys’ names. She only got to pick names for girls – or the little nicknames she gave her sons. Her Prince, her Honey Hunter… Teddy, Archie, Sweetie, Sammy and Lex.
And this one would have a nickname soon. As soon as she met him she would know.
“And what about me?” mum spoke up, getting her attention again.
Luna turned right to her, meeting her eyes, and mum smiled so softly it nearly broke the wall she’d put up.
Luna walked to her quietly, and wrapped her arms around her tight.
She missed mum.
She missed mum so much, all the time.
Luna squeezed her, feeling her lips turning down against her will, her eyes welling up.
“Oh, honey,” mum rubbed her back.
She couldn’t help herself, sniffing, trying to hold back her tears.
She missed her.
Why couldn’t she just go back?
She could have her own room back. The kids would fit in Jupiter and Juno’s rooms, her siblings didn’t live with their parents anymore.
There was space. She could have the babies in her room.
It would be cramped, but they would fit.
“I know,” mum pressed a kiss to her temple, breaking her from her thoughts. “I know, I miss you too.”
Dad chuckled a little bit, and Luna could see his hand coming to rub mum’s back just as she felt Cato’s on hers.
“Come on, darling,” he nudged her, probably trying to be playful. “I want to speak to her too.”
She tried not to grimace or pull away from mum too fast, and Cato was quick to replace her and pull her into a hug as Luna stepped away.
He really liked her mother.
It was… nice. Very nice.
Cato really liked her family. It meant their relationship proceeded well. And he could spend time at her old home. And they could be together. Happily, then.
Luna rubbed her hand down her belly nervously, the taste in her mouth terribly bitter.
She was the one who’d insisted so much on bringing him home, on making him such a big part of their family.
Would they even take her side if she left?
People didn’t divorce for no reason, not in two.
Where he was Cato, she was Luna. It meant that, regardless of if the times were good or bad, if he was sick or healthy, or if he was happy or sad. She had to be there.
It was what she had promised him.
And he was sick, in a way, wasn’t he? Traumatised from the games, hurt from all he’d been enduring.
Cato stepped away, and she watched his face, how genuine his smile was. That was so rare of him.
She felt Juno brushing against her, startled as she looked up at her.
“You cool?” her sister asked suddenly.
Luna looked to her face, a bit unsure.
“Yeah,” she mumbled. “The baby is…”
But she hesitated. The baby wasn’t kicking, he wouldn’t be awake for a while.
“Heavy,” she mumbled.
Juno read her face quietly, green eyes unblinking as they stared at her.
“Wanna show me around?” she asked, lowering her voice. “I love these boys, but… I’ll be glad to have a break.”
She chuckled. Juno wasn’t a big fan of little kids. Not that she disliked them, actively, she just didn’t want to have her own and was a little overwhelmed by them easily.
“We should go out to the garden,” Cato interrupted them. “All of us. The party is about to start.”
Luna nodded, keeping her eyes down, and Juno quickly wrapped her arm around hers, pulling her along before anyone else could take the first step, and she walked out with her.
“Look at them,” dad chuckled behind them. “You know I always said this would happen one day.”
Mum chuckled, and Cato did the same.
“It took me marrying her for them to stop hating one another, I see.”
He was very close. Anything Luna or Juno said would be heard by them.
“Excuse you, I never hated her,” Juno corrected him, looking behind her shoulder. “It’s just easier to love her when we don’t share a wall.”
Luna chuckled. She was right, though.
It was certainly easier to be a good sister when they weren't all up on each other's business.
The garden looked beautiful, all set up with lights and tables and decorations for a big party.
“Damn, you really have a strawberry infestation!” Juno exclaimed.
Luna frowned. Wait, that was the first thing she saw?
“Juno!” mum exclaimed behind them.
“She does!” she insisted. “You do!”
Luna couldn’t help laughing.
God, Juno was so… Juno!
“It’s not that bad," Luna elbowed her. “I like strawberries.”
She craved it a lot when she was pregnant, it was fine.
“The last time I was here, they were all on the left side of the garden,” Juno pushed. “It’s almost all the way to the right now!”
It was half way to the right side. The strawberries grew along the fence, kind of circling the house slowly. The gardener was good at keeping it from invading everything too much, but there was only so much pulling he could do.
“It’s strawberries, Juno,” she rolled her eyes. “You speak as if they are a plague.”
“They kind of are,” her sister shrugged. “You should start pulling, they might take over the whole place in another ten years.”
Luna shook her head.
Juno being Juno.
“Come on, I need a drink before people start showing up.”
“Don’t steal my wife, Juno,” Cato called back behind her.
But Juno didn’t even let him argue.
“She was my sister long before you were her boyfriend,” she called back.
She dragged Luna to the bar where the bartender was already setting things up.
“Give me your best,” Juno requested, smiling charmingly at him. “I’m the hostess' favourite sister.”
“You’re my only sister,” Luna corrected her.
Her little sister just grinned, cocky.
“Doesn’t change that,” she winked at her.
They fell into silence for a bit of time, and Juno leaned into the bar by her side, looking like her brain was running faster than her body.
“Eight kids?” she asked suddenly. “Really?”
Luna turned to look at her face, but her sister was just facing forward, as if she hadn’t said anything, and smirked to the bartender when he made his way back to then.
“We got…” he started, but she didn’t let him even continue.
“Oh, I saw you have some really nice syrups on your bag,” she spoke up quickly. “Can you bring me then first? And then we figure the drink? I’m in the mood for something really sweet.”
The man looked at Luna and then at Juno, but nodded simply, walking to his supplies – still about to be organised.
“He’s hovering over you this whole time,” Juno said simply. “Dad’s all over him now, you know how he likes to fan over Cato whenever they meet.”
Luna glanced at her side, too afraid of looking back. She knew they were being watched.
“Eight?” her sister asked again.
She breathed out.
“We still don’t have a girl,” she mumbled.
Truth was, Luna didn’t know what to answer.
Did she love her boys? Deeply.
Did she want more of them?
Luna rubbed her belly nervously.
Kids were gifts.
“The kids are blessings,” she added.
Juno let out a little hum.
“Yeah, but I reckon there’s only so many one of them a single person can have before she screws up her body and her uterus falls out,” she said simply, blunt. “Don’t you get tired of being surrounded by them all the time? They don’t stop a minute!”
They didn’t, yeah. The boys were all exhausting some days, they were little balls of energy and excitement all the time.
And there were so many of them.
“I’m fine,” she assured her. “I got good doctors.”
The bartender came back with the syrups, and Juno didn’t even seem affected as she chose slowly over them.
“This one,” she told him. “And some whipped cream?”
Luna could see the man wanting to grimace at her demands.
“I’ll go check for it in the boxes.”
Her sister just grinned.
“Take your time, we can wait.”
He walked off, and she lost some of her smile.
“And you doctors don’t know the tea mum takes?” she asked back. “You got all that fancy treatment and no one gives you birth control?”
Before she could answer, however, a sound caught her.
“Oh, just leave them be,” Luna heard their mother’s voice. “They haven’t talked in ages.”
She turned around just in time to see Cato coming, and Juno put on a smirk on her face.
Luna had no reaction as he came to her side, wrapping his arms around her from behind.
“Juno, you must know I don’t like sharing,” Cato hinted playfully, squeezing her waist.
Luna covered his hands with hers, trying not to tense up.
“I don’t know, dude, you have an awful lot of kids for a man who doesn’t like sharing his wife,” she scoffed. “Aren’t you done?”
Cato just shrugged.
“We don’t have a girl yet,” he said simply.
Her sister raised her eyebrows slowly, looking amused but… also not.
“You’re stopping on the girl, then?” she asked. “You gotta promise to name her after me.”
Cato chuckled into her ear, rubbing her belly slowly.
“We’ll try to keep that in mind,” he kissed Luna’s temple. “How’s that drink coming up?”
Juno looked over to the bartender, who was just coming back with the whipped cream.
“Still working on it, I guess,” she shrugged.
Cato moved Luna slowly side to side, humming softly.
“And when are you giving me a nephew or niece?” he asked. “The boys would love to have a little cousin or so.”
Juno scoffed loudly.
“You two have seven kids,” she remarked. “Almost eight. Do you know how much pressure you’ve taken off of my shoulders and Jupiter's? We don’t have to reproduce. Ever.”
But Cato didn’t seem convinced.
“But why wouldn’t you?” he insisted. “The happiest day of my life was the day I held Prince. I have never felt…”
He paused, taking in a deep breath, as if he had just stopped himself from speaking words he shouldn’t.
“I didn’t know I could love someone so much before,” he affirmed, at last.
Luna breathed out.
Yes, she remembered that day.
Labour was… intense.
She hated it, every time it happened, but Prince… Prince’s birth was the worst of them. Everything was new, it was just her and Cato with some doctors she didn’t even know because mum got sick and couldn’t travel, and she was overwhelmed by all the pain.
And then he was born, and all she could think of was that she wanted quiet and for people to stop touching her.
Cato was the one who spent the most time with Prince that first day, she needed a minute.
Well, a few hours.
And he looked so in love with him, holding him.
It was no surprise she got pregnant with Hunter so quickly. Cato looked beautiful when he held their babies.
Of course, mum was there for Hunter, Ted and Archie, but after that things were so tense with Cato, Luna knew they needed space, and it was just them for Gunnie.
And then they got pregnant with Sammy and she couldn’t think of having Cato in the birth room, not after he’d disregarded her not wanting to have another baby so soon.
She was alone for that, and then for Lex’s birth. She would probably be alone for this one as well.
Luna turned to watch Cato’s face, and he just looked at her with his eyebrows a little raised.
No, she wasn’t sure she would do well with him there.
“I’m glad,” Juno spoke up, taking their attention to her again. “I mean, why would you keep having kids if you weren’t completely in love and enamoured by then? They’re humans. They need parents who love them.”
She picked up her glass from the bar.
“And I would be too busy being miserable,” Juno said simply. “But good luck passing the family genes beyond, I hope this one looks less like a copy of you,” she pointed at Cato teasingly.
She walked off, leaving them behind and striding to mum and dad, and Luna didn’t move as she watched her go, wanting her to come back.
“And what were you two talking about?” Cato asked suddenly.
Luna took in a deep breath, trying not to show her tension.
“Syrup,” she lied. “And whipped cream.”
Cato didn’t answer, and she could feel him turning to look over the counter, and she did the same, seeing the whipped cream and the syrups being organised around.
“I hope she has a good night,” he said simply, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Your family deserved a taste of the good things.”
Luna breathed out slowly.
“Of course,” she mumbled.
He turned her around slowly, already taking his hand to her jaw to raise it, and she fought the way her body stiffened as he put a finger under her chin.
“You look beautiful,” he affirmed, the warmth of his words not reaching his eyes.
Cato leaned in, kissing her lips softly before letting her go, and when she looked down, she could see from the corner of her eyes how her parents were watching them.
He let her go, and she turned when she saw the butler stepping into the garden.
“Our guests,” Cato deduced. “Time to be good hosts.”
It was a very obvious nudge. A reminder, of sorts.
To be good. Social.
Behave.
Welcoming everyone was a blur; If Luna had to say, the party was for them.
The highest Elite of District 2. People with money and prestige. People who were as close to the Capitol as one could be without being part of it, who thought they were almost as good as then. And victors, of course, all of those who would say yes to being invited.
She wasn’t surprised to see Brutus and Enobaria amongst those they welcomed, so excited to speak to Cato and not at all to her.
By the time they were done speaking and welcoming everyone, Luna’s face was hurting from all the fake smiling.
She was glad it was over as everyone started mingling in the garden, away from the door and the house – at least those people didn’t feel any pleasure in getting inside and messing things around.
Cato drifted away to Brutus side, probably happy to see someone he actually enjoyed spending time with.
“It’s good to see you,” she heard by her side.
Luna turned, and Lyme was standing a few steps away from her, watching her quietly.
“Congratulations on the new baby,” she wished.
She smiled a little.
“Thank you,” Luna touched her belly.
Lyme was their neighbour. And she was a good neighbour, Luna didn’t have anything to complain about her. But she kept to herself a lot, they barely really saw one another, even being so geographically close.
She was rarely home, actually. Maybe because it was such a big house, and she was often on her own. Lyme never got married, as far as Luna knew. She didn’t have any kids, or anyone who was close to her.
“How are the boys?” Lyme asked.
“They’re alright,” she told her. “Playing inside. Prince is very excited to spend a few minutes at the party.”
Lyme smiled a bit, though looking unsure.
“Prince is…” she asked slowly.
“The oldest,” Luna told her quickly. “He’s nine.”
She nodded, finally seeming to understand it.
“I’m sorry,” she added quickly. “It’s so many kids.”
Luna swallowed down, rubbing her belly.
Yeah. Many kids.
Many little blessings.
“He’s delightful,” Luna added quickly.
Prince was a great boy.
“I know,” Lyme agreed. “I just… forget his name often.”
“Understandable.”
They fell into silence as she watched the party, not even attempting to join the people.
Juno was speaking to a young woman their age, the daughter of some official she couldn’t name, and her parents seemed to be blending in well.
Better than Luna had ever done, that was certain.
She rubbed the side of her belly, trying to keep her face straight as the noise just surrounded her, feeling her back stiff.
Cato was smiling charmingly at some guests, talking all around as so many women swooned over him he was only visible because he was taller than them.
“Lyme,” she heard mum’s voice.
“Loba.”
Luna turned to them, and mum was smiling so widely it she couldn’t help softening a little bit.
“I hope I don’t interrupt,” mum spoke softly. “I just wanted to come say hi.”
Lyme smiled to her, more genuine than to many people Luna had seen her around.
They knew one another for so long, there had to be a bit of a camaraderie between them.
“Hello,” Lyme greeted her. “We haven’t seen one another in a few years.”
Luna looked away from them for a moment, scanning the party, and she could see some men exchanging looks as her father walked by, and a pair of older women smiling, snickering, as they glanced to her mother.
Nothing unexpected from those people.
“And you, my baby?” mum asked, taking her attention to her.
Luna looked back at her, feeling her back tensing.
“Yeah?”
Mum gave her a soft look, lacing her arm with hers as she stood by her side, and she had to hold back a wince at the feeling on her arm.
“You’ve been off since we arrived,” she remarked. “And Juno thinks something is up;”
Luna breathed in deeply, looking over at Cato, but he was laughing along with the women throwing themselves at him, not even looking in their direction.
“And I agree with her,” mum added.
She turned to look at her.
“I…” she started, and then paused. “Well.”
She opened and closed her mouth. What was she going to say?
That they never had a fight so bad as today. She had never seen her parents fight, much less the way it happened in the morning.
Maybe they hid it well, their disagreements. Dad was always so enamoured with her mother regardless of when.
But her parents never had to deal with what she had to deal, did they?
Dad never went through what Cato was going through, mum never had to sit and watch him be exploited and not have anyone else to turn to.
Besides, he spent months away at a time, and she had all the freedom she could.
“I… guess I didn’t think marriage was supposed to be like this,” she confessed.
“Like this?” mum asked, sounding surprised.
Luna glanced at Cato again.
“We’ve been… having disagreements,” she spoke slowly. “A few of them.”
Constantly, she wanted to add, but didn’t.
“About?” mum asked.
She breathed in deep.
“His… work,” she looked down at her own feet. “The boys.”
The Capitol, their life, sometimes the people who worked at the house.
Everything, anything.
“It doesn’t surprise me,” mum spoke up.
Luna turned to her, wide eyed.
It didn’t?
So she knew?
“You know, the worst disagreements I had with your father were about parenting,” she remarked. “How Jupiter liked sleeping in our bed far too much. How no punishment seemed to be enough to teach Juno, and the issues she got at school… all parents disagree on things like that, baby.”
Luna swallowed down, shaking her head.
“It’s not about school, or sleeping,” she told her. “After the interview today, we had a… we had a discussion about the boys and the games. How he wants them to join it.”
Mum hated the games. She hated every little aspect of the Hunger Games, she had to understand why it would make Luna uncomfortable to even think of her boys in there!
Her mother's face softened and she exhaled slowly.
"I see," she breathed out.
Luna kept her eyes on her, trying to read her face. She did?
Mum moved to her, taking her hand gently.
"I know we both..." she started speaking, then paused. "I know I have put in you the same fear I developed after my sister died. I know... we both are... understanding to the effect of losing someone to this."
Luna watched her quietly, every little word from her mouth seeming and sounding so... controlled.
"But Cato only sees them as a path to succeess," mum continued, her tone very gentle. "Everything he has, he conquered because of the games."
She looked away from her, trying not to scoff. Didn't she understand-
"So," her mother continued. "It is only expected that he would want the same for his children."
"His children have all they need," Luna snapped, hissing.
Mum wasn't even affected, lacing her arm with hers.
"And you have your reasons to be upset," she agreed. "But we both know you aren't... the most understanding of people."
Luna pulled her arm from hers, but she didn't have words to argue with her.
It wasn't about being understanding!
"He's your husband," her mother reminded her. "You're bound to disagree on things."
"They can die!" she whispered between teeth, trying to keep attention away from them.
Didn't she know that? Her boys could die!
"There's still a few years for him to change his mind," her mother spoke back. "Right now, he's just projecting himself on them. Do you think a father who loves his sons would willingly send them into an arena? He'll come to his senses on his own, you won't have to even open your mouth about it."
Luna swallowed down, swallowing the first thought that came to her lips with it.
Wouldn't he? Really?
Cato didn't even seem to-
No, that was a stupid thought.
"Darling?" she heard.
Luna turned her head quickly, finding Cato coming to them.
He shot them a charming smile.
"We received a letter," Cato told them. "We must read them to our guests, don't you think?"
She forced herself to breathe in - to stop holding her breath.
"Of course," Luna breathed out.
She stepped away from mum in stiff steps, and he put an arm around hers as he guided her down to the centre of the garden as the national anthem played as they did.
Her throat felt dry as she tried to keep her composure as everyone clapped to them, both sounds never failing to spike her anxiety.
"Thank you, thank you," Cato grinned to their guests. "We are so glad you could all be here to celebrate such an important moment for our family."
They clapped more, and Luna plastered a fake smile on her lips as they did.
"Before we begin our celebration," her husband continued. "We have just received a letter from President Snow-"
Luna turned her head to look at him, shocked.
It was from President Snow?
When had it arrived?
Cato turned to her, his smile tighter now, his eyes hiding something.
“For our anniversary,” he said, holding her gaze with something hiding behind them she was struggling to translate.
Was it a surprise to him too?
Cato pulled the letter from his pocket, breaking the golden Capitol seal.
“To the honourable Mr and Mrs Cato Hadley," he read.
The words felt like ice sliding down her spine as she moved her hand over her belly, rubbing its side nervously. Snow’s letters never brought them any comfort.
“It is with great pleasure and heartfelt admiration that I extend my congratulations on your 10th wedding anniversary, a remarkable milestone for two individuals who exemplify the very ideals of our Capitol.”
Luna felt her stomach knot. She knew President Snow had a much deeper understanding of their lives than anyone should. She knew exactly what Cato had exchanged for their wealth and status, and Snow benefited from it above anyone else in the world.
He didn’t seem like the kind who would let it go to waste or be ruined by anyone.
"When I reflect upon your union, I am reminded of the virtues that Panem and the Capitol hold most dear: strength, resilience, loyalty, and above all, an unyielding love that triumphs over any challenge. Yours is not just a love that blossomed through triumph, but one that has endured through the trials of life, serving as an inspiration for all citizens of a beloved country."
Luna swallowed down.
“In a world where so many unions are fleeting, yours stands a beacon of inspiration. Your love story had no only inspired those of your district, but it continued to uplift and captivate the hearts of the Capitol itself.”
The garden filled with applause for a moment, loud and maybe agreeing. When Luna looked at her family, her parents were smiling so brightly it probably hurt their faces.
“Cato,” he kept reading. “Since the moment of your triumphant victory in the 74th Hunger Games, you have demonstrated what it truly means to be a Victor, to thrive in the world and build a legacy that will last generations, with Mrs Hadley standing faithfully by your side, as a representation of all the love our citizens feel for you, someone who’s grace and loyalty only further to cement the greatness of your union.”
She had to clench her teeth. Mrs Hadley, not Luna.
Cato’s smile disappeared for a moment, sudden and shocked, but he grinned right after, clearly forced.
“Your beautiful family,” he read on, his voice faltering just slightly, “is a testament to this enduring legacy. Cato II, Hunter, Victor, Archer, Gunner, Sawyer, and Alexander — your seven sons, each named with strength and courage in mind — are the embodiment of that legacy.”
Everyone at the party cheered and clapped, but the feeling sinking in her belly was hard to hide.
The boys’ names were private, they never spoke of them like that, never in public or even to the people who were present in the room.
She looked over the guests, and they looked thrilled as they clapped and grinned, and Cato inhaled deeply, his eyes sharp as they ran over the page.
“I have no doubt that they, too, will grow to embody the ideals that have made you, Cato, a legend, and I look forward to one day meeting them and seeing them grow into young men who will carry forth your name and our Capitol values with pride.”
He kept reading it, but she didn’t hear real words – something about true love and perseverance, legacy.
Her boys. He had his eyes on their boys.
Notes:
Chapter 8: YEAR 10: If I smile with my teeth (3/3)
Summary:
The party ends, and Luna finds clarity.
She has to make a few choices about her present and future.
Notes:
Check the end notes for details such as what we imagined with the visuals, and details of age.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Luna stumbled into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her and barely making it to the floor before her legs gave out. It was as if all the air had been sucked from her lungs, her chest heaving as panic clawed its way up her throat, choking her, tighter and tight.
She pressed a trembling hand to her neck, fingers digging in as if she could physically pry away the Capitol's grip. But there was nothing there — no hands holding her down, no chains binding her.
She couldn’t scream. Not here, not now — not with the party buzzing outside the door, not with the boys playing just down the hall, so blissfully unaware of the shadows creeping in on them.
What would they think if she broke, right here, right now? If she let herself fall apart?
There was no escape. No hiding. No protecting her boys, no matter how fiercely she tried. The Capitol had already marked them, and no amount of loving or shielding them could keep them from its eyes and claws.
Luna closed her eyes, fighting to steady her breath, to swallow down the scream that burned at the back of her throat as she flapped her hands uselessly at her side.
Not even her own mother understood it, how much fucking danger they were in.
Cato’s obsession was one thing, but Luna wasn’t stupid. She’d seen enough Reapings, witnessed enough children and grandchildren of Victors being ripped from their mother’s arms, only to be paraded into an arena to die trying to revive the glory of their parents’ or grandparents’ legacies.
It wasn’t a coincidence; it was orchestrated, deliberate. The Capitol did it on purpose, binding the families to the Games across generations, like a curse that would follow their blood until it was spilled and dead.
And Prince — her sweet, fearless boy — was barely two years away from being in their reach.
How could Cato not see it? How could he be so blind to the trap set before them?
That stupid pride of his was bigger, more important than their sons?
It wasn’t glory waiting for them. It was slaughter!
She whipped around at the sudden knock, her heart pounding as she gasped and covered her mouth.
"Mrs Hadley?" the nanny called from the other side of the door, her voice polite but nervous. "Mr Hadley said you came to get the children?"
Luna scrambled to her feet, her palms cold and clammy as she stared at the door. The children. She had nearly forgotten.
For a moment, she didn’t respond, her mind running. The boys were so excited to see the party, their first time attending an adult gathering. They couldn’t possibly know what was really at stake.
But it would be so cruel to them to not let them come.
She inhaled deeply, steeling herself before opening the door, and the nanny stood there, unsure.
"Yes," she breathed out, her voice much steadier than she felt. "Let's go get the boys."
If she noticed how nervous she was, the nanny kept it to herself, just guiding her to the playroom, and the other nannies were all getting the boys’ hair brushed and their clothes straight again.
Oh, they all looked so excited! They looked like perfect little gentlemen, each of them beaming with pride as they fidgeted in their bow ties and freshly pressed outfits.
“Oh, look at you,” she exclaimed, her voice tender as she gently touched each of their little faces.
"Mama, I’m stylish!" Archie piped up, his bright eyes shining as he tugged at the hem of his blue shirt, identical to his brothers'.
He'd been dressed in shorts, allowing him the freedom to run around if he wanted, just like his little brothers.
Prince, Hunter and Teddy, though, were in long trousers like big boys.
"You certainly are," she cheered, smiling as Archie could barely keep himself from jumping up and down in excitement. "And my little Sammy, too — looking like such a big boy!"
"I’m a big boy!" Sammy repeated proudly, the words still a bit clumsy on his tongue.
Sammy was just two, he was still working on his words.
"Mama!" Lex called out, his chubby arms reaching toward her, his little face lighting up the second she turned her attention to him.
"And my baby Lex," she murmured, scooping him up into her arms.
Lex gave her a big giggle, clapping his tiny hands together, as if he could barely contain his excitement. Her heart swelled as she held him close, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.
“Let’s go see the party,” she said gently, giving Sweetie's hair a soft ruffle, brushing it back to place.
He was blinking slowly, rubbing at his eye, clearly on the verge of succumbing to his sleepiness.
She could already tell he’d be the first to fall asleep, the excitement of the day was wearing him down much faster than the others. But for now, he clung to her side, determined to be a part of the adventure with his brothers.
Luna gathered them around, all her worries pushed aside as she focused on her boys, on the joy and excitement in their faces.
“Come, my little gentlemen,” she called them. “Daddy, grandma, grandpa and Aunt Juno are all waiting at the party.”
The boys trailed after her in a perfect line, like little ducklings, their excitement beautiful even as each step weighed on Luna’s stomach, pulling her down. When they reached the garden, she paused at the threshold, holding Lex close as her focus locked onto Cato’s across the crowd, his eyes lighting up as he raised his glass in her direction.
“There she is,” he said, smiling, his voice carrying over the crowd with practised charm. “The woman of the night.”
Luna forced a smile, careful to mask the unease bubbling in her belly, and watched as he took a deep breath, standing tall before the guests.
“A toast,” Cato announced, his tone almost theatrical, his gaze locked onto hers. “To my beautiful, talented wife. The woman who year after year gifts me with life, who believed in me long before I became the man I am today. I’ve never known anyone as kind, as talented, or as beautiful… a woman who loves so openly and so shamelessly.”
Luna swallowed, her eyes tracing his face, catching fleeting glimpses of the man — the boy — she’d once known, the spark of the person he used to be flickering momentarily to life. But even in his earnestness, he didn’t even hide the possessiveness woven into every word of his, the way his eyes looked at her like she was some property of his.
“Happy anniversary, my darling,” he declared, his voice ringing with a sense of finality. “I look forward to spending the rest of my life with you… and never being apart again.”
The words settled heavily in her stomach, a rock of cold reality she couldn’t ignore. There was no escape, no way out. For better or for worse, they were bound together.
“A toast to my beautiful wife,” Cato repeated, his voice filled with a reverence that was both flattering and possessive.
The guests clinked their glasses in unison, murmuring their congratulations, and Luna could feel their eyes on her, each gaze pressing against her skin like a silent expectation, as if everyone was watching to see her bask in his praise.
Lex little hand squeezed her arm where his father had left his mark hours before, as if reminding her to move, so she did.
She looked at Cato, catching the gleam in his eyes — the proud, possessive glint that had replaced the warmth she once adored. It was the face of the boy she’d loved, but distorted, changed over the years into something sharper, something darker. Forever, he’d said, and she knew exactly what that meant.
“Thank you, Cato,” Luna spoke back.
But her voice sounded distant even to her own ears, calm and composed, betraying none of the storm inside her.
The boys clapped, mimicking the applause around them and she took a step forward, moving to his side with the boys trailing after, each one of them a beautiful tether tying her to this life, this man.
The kiss she placed on his lips was careful, cold, as calculated as his words, her smile frozen as she drew back.
“To many more years,” she said, her voice carrying a conviction she no longer felt — not after ten years of this.
The crowd cheered again, seeing only the perfect couple standing together with their family around them – each boy a connection locking her to him like inescapable roots.
How she hadn’t seen it before, Luna didn’t know.
Still, Luna kept the smile fixed on her face, holding herself tall and poised as she reached for Lex, running her fingers through his soft hair. She pressed her nose to his cheek, inhaling the familiar, sweet scent of her little boy, trying to anchor herself. Her parents quickly moved in, fawning over the boys with doting enthusiasm, their attention momentarily easing the weight on her shoulders.
Meanwhile, Cato lifted Sammy into his arms, his grin wide and brimming with what anyone else might mistake for paternal pride. But Luna knew better. She could see right through the mask he wore, catching the of worry in his eyes, the tension in his posture even as he petted their son’s hair with slow, deliberate strokes.
“Look at my handsome boy,” Cato murmured, his voice soft. “Aren’t you excited for the party?”
Sammy clapped his little hands, his bright smile lighting up his cherubic face.
“Yes!” he chirped, his excitement so pure, so innocent, that it made Luna’s chest ache.
She exhaled slowly, her gaze flickering to Cato.
Did he understand now?
Did he see how they had to protect their boys?
They were the only two people in the world who could truly understand their family’s reality. The only two who loved their boys fiercely enough to see through the Capitol’s games, their traps.
Their sons were their flesh and blood, innocent and untainted by the horrors of the world. And it was their duty — hers and Cato’s — to protect them from it. Whatever it took, they had to keep them safe.
But did he even care for them enough to see beyond his stupid plans?
For the next several minutes, she and Cato guided the boys through the party, allowing them just enough time to sate their curiosity without lingering too long.
They smiled for the crowd, showed off their perfect little family, and endured the whispered praises and subtle glances of admiration. When the nannies finally stepped in to take the younger boys back inside to eat on their own, Luna felt the smallest hint of relief wash over her as Prince squeezed her hand, his blue eyes full of excitement.
“Do I really get to stay?” he whispered, his voice overflowing with hope.
“You do,” she replied softly, brushing a thumb across his cheek. “We promised, didn’t we?”
Oh, she could see the delight blooming in him. He wanted to squeal with excitement — she could tell — but her boy held it in. Instead, he straightened his back and puffed out his chest with the pride of someone much older than his years.
“Come on,” Cato called him. “Let’s say hello to our guests, we much be good hosts.”
She could see as her husband’s demeanour shifted completely, his shoulders squaring with a confidence that Luna recognized all too well as he began parading their eldest son around the gathering, his chest puffed with pride as he introduced Prince to the other victors: Brutus, Enobaria, Wade, and a handful of others whose names blurred together in Luna’s mind.
She watched it all quietly. Prince was smiling so brightly, soaking in the attention, blissful unaware of the undertones beneath it. And Cato was just playing the perfect father, holding their son’s shoulder like he was his most prized possession.
But it wasn’t Cato or even Prince that held Luna’s attention — it was the others. The victors, the elites… their guests. Each time she caught someone’s gaze, what she saw made her stomach churn. Pity. Sad, knowing pity. Their eyes were soft, their smiles faint and tilted, as though they saw through the perfectly curated image of her family and straight into the mess they were trying to hide.
Wasn’t she hiding enough?
Luna plastered a bigger smile on her face, running her tongue over her lower lip, over the swollen little spot that wouldn’t let her forgot that morning.
She rubbed her belly, clenching her fingers on her dress, nearly suffocating in the air before she strode out to try and find something to do, somewhere to go, and she couldn’t help gasping for a moment when a hand suddenly reached for her, holding her by her arm, and Luna couldn’t have jumped back faster in her startle.
“Hey, hey,” her father’s voice broke through her panic. “It’s just me.”
Luna froze, her chest heaving as her eyes darted around. The eyes that had caught the moment quickly averted, their curiosity hiding into polite disinterest.
She exhaled shakily, willing her heart to slow down.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I don’t… I don’t like…”
“I know,” her father interrupted gently, his tone low and soothing. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
She forced herself to smile, smoothing her hands down her dress as though the simple gesture could reset her composure. Her heart still hammered in her chest, the remnants of her panic leaving a bitter taste in her mouth.
“It’s fine,” she said quickly. “What is it?”
What did he want?
But her father didn’t answer right away. Instead, he tilted his head, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied her, as if he was peeling back the layers hiding her, and Luna resisted the urge to squirm under him
Could he see? Her panic, her fear, the mess that-
“The party is too loud, isn’t it?” he finally asked, his voice soft and understanding.
For a moment, Luna just stared at him, caught off guard by his question. The party? Of course. That would be the easiest explanation.
The party. Of course.
“A bit,” she lied, offering him an awkward smile. “You know how it is… you know.”
Her father’s lips curved into a knowing smile, but his eyes lingered on her, thoughtful and concerned, and Luna turned her gaze away, unable to meet his, as she tugged on her sleeve.
“Well, if it gets to be too much…” his voice trailed off, leaving the offer unspoken.
What could he do?
“I’m fine,” she interrupted quickly, her words coming out sharper than she intended. She softened her tone as she added, “Thank you, though.”
He hesitated, then gave her a faint smile, one that mirrored the same pity she’d seen in the others’ eyes. That look made her stomach churn worse than anything else.
He saw her the same as everyone else, didn’t he?
“Mama,” Prince called, and she turned to see him running right to her. “Mama.”
Her boy was beaming, his face lit with pure joy as he came to grab her and Cato watched him. From afar, it looked perfect — a picture of a proud father and his son – but Luna could read Cato like no one else, and there it was, that flicker of calculation, the subtle performance beneath the surface. He wasn’t looking at their son, he was looking at his legacy. He was parading him, presenting him to the Elites as his heir, as though Prince was nothing more than a finely polished piece of decoration.
And her boy looked so excited, undoubtedly thrilled to be getting so much attention from a father who dismissed him for most the day.
Still, she smiled as her boy ran to her and he grabbed her hand, pulling her.
“Yes, my sweet boy?”
“It’s time for you to dance,” Prince affirmed. “You two must dance.”
She forced herself to keep smiling to him.
“Dance?” Luna asked.
But her boy was already dragging her as Cato stepped to the empty dance floor that’d been set up for the party.
Luna allowed herself to be pulled, Prince's small hand warm as he clenched hers. His joy was infectious, and for just a moment, she let herself take it in. Oh, how happy he was, her boy.
Cato was already there, stepping onto the floor as though he owned it — because, in a way, he did. His smirk deepened when he saw them approach, and he extended a hand toward Luna, and around them, the hum of conversation quieted, all heads turning as the crowd's focus shifted to them.
They were the centrepiece now, the King and Queen, performing their carefully choreographed roles.
“Shall we?” Cato asked.
Luna hesitated, glancing down at Prince and he grinned up at them, so excited. She couldn’t disappoint him. So she took Cato’s hand and squeezed it as the pianist and the cellist at the corner played a waltz that felt too familiar and uncomfortable.
They glided across the floor, their movements seamless, rehearsed over for other appearances, other parties. It was like walking, unforgettable.
“Smile,” Cato murmured under his breath, his tone light but commanding. "Relax your face."
She obeyed, her lips curving into a soft smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, and the crowd watched with attention, their applause a low murmur as they admired them. But Luna wasn’t thinking about the crowd, she was thinking of Prince, standing at the edge of the dance floor, looking at them with big eyes.
“He’s happy,” Cato said, his voice cutting through her thoughts.
Luna’s gaze flicked back to him, her smile faltering for just a second.
“He doesn’t understand,” she whispered.
Cato’s smirk deepened, his hand tightening ever so slightly on her waist.
“He doesn’t need to,” he affirmed. “All that matters is what he sees.”
Luna swallowed, her heart sinking in her belly, her steps identical to his, and she let herself look at their boy as Cato twirled her, showing off the beauty of her dress, and when the music was over, Prince ran right to her.
“You were so beautiful, mama!” he exclaimed.
She leaned in, kissing his temple.
“What about we go eat now?” she suggested playfully. “I’m starving.”
Luna guided him back to their table, settling in beside him as the servers brought out their plates. Her eyes wandered over the party, scanning the crowd, but her posture stiffened when Cato slid into the seat on her other side.
His smile was easy, almost disarming, as he raised his glass in a playful toast toward Prince.
Her fork felt heavy in her hand, the motions of eating so deliberate and mechanical that even her muscles protested from how tense she was. Every bite tasted like nothing, her senses dulled by the weight of her surroundings.
But Prince — oh, her sweet Prince — was a picture of joy. He sat upright, eating his fancy plate with care, savouring the tender meat and rich sauce like it was a grand adventure. His manners, so proper and cute she couldn’t help smiling at her little boy pretending to be a little man.
Luna reached out to brush her fingers across his cheek affectionately, but Prince scrunched his face in protest, his cheeks blooming pink.
“Mama,” he whined softly, glancing around, embarrassed. “Not here.”
The moment was so small, so sweet, that she almost laughed outright. But then his little hand pressed against her arm to push her away — her bruised arm — and pain flared like fire beneath her skin. She bit down hard on the sound that nearly escaped her mouth, clenching her teeth as she forced a light laugh instead.
“Alright, alright,” she teased, squinting playfully at him and retreating to her own plate. “I’ll behave, too.”
And then she looked at Cato, and he was looking right at her face, because he knew.
She grabbed her glass of… well, she didn’t know what the drink was – all she knew was that it was non-alcoholic.
Prince beamed, eagerly clinking his glass against hers.
“Cheers, Mama!”
Cato, lifted his own glass, clinking it first with Prince’s, then with hers. His silence spoke volumes, and the air between them seemed heavier than before.
Luna smiled at her son, just focusing on the light in his eyes, refusing to let anything else steal this moment from him.
The party stretched on endlessly, spilling into the sunset and lingering well into the evening. The noise, the colours, the constant swirl of people— it all became too much. Luna found herself pressing her plus into her ears, while her hands restlessly fidgeted with the folds of her dress or anything within reach.
When the time came for everyone to leave — en masse, as the elites always did — she felt nothing but relief, and Luna was so grateful to watch her garden emptying, she didn’t mind having to say goodbye to them.
The house was blissfully quiet when she stepped inside. Most of the boys were probably already asleep, their rooms silent as the night wrapped them in its hold. Prince, however, walked beside her, his pace slow, his small hand brushing against hers as he rubbed his eye, and she knew he was ready to follow his brothers.
“Why don’t we go get you changed, and I’ll tuck you in?” she offered, her hand reaching to smooth back his hair.
He nodded sleepily, and Luna’s heart ached.
She couldn’t carry him anymore. He was getting so big, so tall even for his nine years, she could only look on with longing. She missed those days when he was small enough to hold close, to lift into her arms and cradle like her baby.
Her eyes met Cato’s for a moment, and his disapproval was obvious, but she didn’t care. She didn’t care. Unless he wanted to make a scene in front of her parents and sister — prove that her worries weren’t at all unfounded — he could glare all he wanted.
She followed Prince up to his room, smiling softly as he shuffled along in his tired haze, and once inside, she helped him out of his party clothes, collecting them for the hamper while he tugged on his pyjamas, guiding him through the familiar night time routine of brushing his teeth and flossing.
When he was finally ready, she perched on the edge of his bed, patting the soft blankets.
“Come here,” she called him.
Prince climbed in, sinking into the mattress, and Luna reached to tuck the covers around him snugly, brushing a kiss to his forehead and she kept her eyes on him, and he leaned into her touch when she caressed his face, no longer running away from it.
“Mama,” he murmured through a yawn, his eyelids heavy and fluttering. “Sing the song?”
Luna smiled sadly. The song, of course. Her song. Their old, old song. She loved singing it to the boys – before. They still loved it.
“We will grow old as friends,” she sang softly. “I promised that before, so what’s one more in our grey haired circle waiting for the end? Time and hearts will wear us thin.”
Prince’s little eyes fluttered shut, his breathing growing slower, more even, as sleep began to claim him.
“So which path will you take, cause we both know a break does exactly what it says on the tin.”
She moved her hand gently, testing to see if he was fully asleep. Prince didn’t stir, his peaceful face soft in the glow of the bedside lamp.
“I don’t know where I’d be without you,” she adjusted his covers. “Brave face talk so lively, hide the truth...”
She fell into silence as he breathed peacefully, fast asleep.
“Good night, sweet boy,” she whispered.
She sat there for a moment longer, watching him, her heart full of love and a bittersweet longing that always seemed to linger in her – for years now, honestly.
Luna stood up slowly, turning off the lamp and stepping out of his room, grateful the carpet muffled the sound of the heels squeezing her forefeet. As she closed the door, her eyes swept the dim corridor, and she paused outside each door. It had become a quiet ritual of hers — checking on each of the boys before she finally called it a night herself, whenever she could.
Hunter was curled up tightly, all bundled beneath the covers, with one foot stuck out from under the blanket as always – and she wouldn’t dare to cover it up. Teddy had his little teddy bear clutched close to his chest. Archie, as always, was sprawled across his bed like a starfish, his hair a mess. Gunner had fallen asleep with his thumb in his mouth, his soft breaths audible in the quiet room, and Sammy, was snug in his crib and happily squeezing his baby blanket.
Lex still slept in the upstairs nursery, thought they were starting to get him used to his new room, with the baby coming soon and needing to be closer to her.
When she reached the end of the corridor, her eyes caught the bottom of the stairs and mum watching her from her spot, waiting, and Luna let out a breath when she called her with a hand.
Alright. Another talk.
She walked back, stepping to her side and past her, sitting down on the nearest armchair, taking off her heels, so tired she couldn’t take another walk with those on.
The relief was immediate; her feet throbbed, and she couldn’t imagine taking another step in those things.
“Well, aren’t you looking cheerful,” her mother quipped, her tone light.
Luna glanced up, offering a tired sigh.
“Long day,” she muttered. “Did you settle in alright?”
“Yes,” her mother confirmed. “The rooms are very comfortable. I reckon your father is still marinating in the bathtub.”
Luna just forced out a smile. Yes, it was a very luxurious house.
“And how are you doing?”
She breathed out, watching her quietly. Was this going to be the same talk again? The one where she was reminded of how wrong she was? How unreasonable it was to resist Cato’s plans for their boys? Plans that would send them into the arena to fight to the death alongside 23 other tributes — as if they weren’t their sons, as if they were just names in a roster.
“The boys said you were strange today,” mum pressed her.
That made Luna tense up.
The boys?
“What… what did they say?” she asked.
Everything played up in her mind again. The fight, the slap, her arm… had the boys noticed it, truly? She was certain they had covered it up well.
But her mother’s piercing gaze made her stomach sink.
“Well…” her mother said slowly, as if carefully choosing her words. “Hunter mentioned your face was all pink when they arrived. He also said you were acting strange — and that Cato was acting very strange.”
Luna’s throat tightened. She swallowed hard.
“And Prince,” her mother continued, her voice gaining momentum, “added that your dress was wrong. And that Daddy didn’t look happy.”
Luna let out a soft, bitter laugh and looked away. Daddy never did look happy, did he?
“You already know about the disagreement,” Luna answered back, keeping her tone steady, trying to dismiss the conversation.
“That doesn’t explain your red face,” her mother pressed, her tone calm but unyielding.
Luna turned back to her, locking eyes for a moment before glancing away again.
Her chest felt tight, and her pulse hammered in her ears. At last, she was at a crossroads.
Option one: Tell the truth. Tell her mother everything — about the fight, about how she’d pushed Cato too far. But that would mean ruining the weekend for everyone. There would be sides taken, arguments, and more drama than anyone wanted to deal with. No one would leave happy.
Option two: Lie. Solve it on her own, in her own way, and keep the peace.
“We were making up,” she lied, her voice even as she glanced away. “After the disagreement.”
“Making up?” mum asked, not seeming to understand – or believe – it.
Luna turned back to her, raising her eyebrows meaningfully. She watched as comprehension slowly dawned on her mother’s face, her expression shifting slightly.
“And maybe…” Luna hesitated but pressed on, forcing herself to keep a steady voice. “We were in the wrong place in the house for that. And when the kids and the nannies arrived…” she let her sentence trail off, gesturing vaguely toward a wall.
Even pointing at it made her skin crawl, memories of earlier flashing through her mind.
“My dress was open,” she added with a forced lightness, as if it were some amusing anecdote. “We were… you know…” her hand made another vague motion, her voice dropping to a near whisper. “And I was just mortified to be caught by my children, in the middle of… you know what.”
Her mother blinked, her lips tightening briefly before she exhaled.
“Well,” she said after a beat, her tone cool but not entirely disapproving. “That would explain a few things.”
Luna exhaled, feeling some of the tension leave her shoulders. She forced a tight smile, silently praying the conversation had reached its end.
Good, she believed it.
“Just because I’m pregnant doesn’t mean I’m dead,” Luna attempted to joke, her tone light but tired. “Lesson learned, though. From now on, we’ll keep those things to the third floor.”
Her mother chuckled, a genuine laugh escaping her.
“All parents make that mistake,” she said. “Happened to me and your father a few times.”
Luna grimaced internally, grateful she couldn’t recall any of those incidents.
She stood up, taking her shoes in her hand as she crossed her arms.
“Well, I hope the boys forget about this too,” she said with a shake of her head.
She really hoped they truly, truly, forgot what they saw and what they thought they saw.
She sighed, shifting her shoes into her hand, crossing her arms in an attempt to ground herself. The exhaustion was hitting hard now.
“Anyway, I’m done for the day. And I’m sure you’re looking forward to a full day of giving attention to seven active little boys tomorrow. So… bedtime.”
Her mother laughed again, wrapping her arms around Luna in a warm, firm hug. Luna returned it, though her body tensed the moment her mother’s hands slid over her arm, applying pressure.
It was impossible not to grimace when she squeezed her arm, and Mum's eyes widened quickly.
“What’s wrong?”
Her hand moved to pull the sleeve up, but Luna pushed it away.
“Nothing,” she said breezily, forcing a dramatic roll of her shoulder. “Sculpting accident. And carrying too many kids around. It’s just an ache. I’ll be fine in a couple of days.”
Her mother narrowed her eyes in suspicion.
“You’re still strapping yourself to that damn machine? Even pregnant?”
“Look,” Luna began, exhaling. “If I stopped sculpting every time I was pregnant, I’d never get anything done. And I like what I do, Mum. I’m not going to stop for nine months out of… well, every year or every other year.”
God, she was pregnant a lot.
Mum just shook her head.
“Be careful,” she reached for her belly, caressing it. “You got precious cargo.”
“I know,” Luna told her. “I am.”
They walked off, at last, and she watched mum going into her room before making the way up their long stairs, exhausted.
They were horrible to climb up and down during post-partum, she wasn’t looking foward to it.
When Luna walked into her bedroom, Cato was just sat on the bed, patting Lex’ back gently as he seemed to be putting him to sleep – a rare sight, really.
“He had a dirty diaper,” Cato said, his voice quiet but matter-of-fact.
“Of course,” she agreed quietly.
She crossed the room to the closet, pulling out a comfortable nightgown and a robe. She didn’t linger.
“I’m going to shower,” she announced into the silence, not bothering to wait for a response. Hopefully, by the time she returned, both of them would be asleep.
The warm water cascading over her skin in the shower was a small relief, soothing the ache in her back, even if it did little for her spirit. She rubbed at her face, trying to remove the rest of her makeup, though she knew she’d still need to finish the job at her vanity.
When she returned to the bedroom, the bed was empty. She noticed the door to the nursery was open and said nothing, instead heading back to her closet and the vanity. She sat down, methodically pulling out the tools and creams needed to wipe the day off her face.
Luna kept her focus on the mirror, her movements precise and mechanical as she worked the cream into her skin, avoiding the tender area on her cheek. The bruise, dark and angry now, refused to be hidden despite her efforts. It was a mark she had no choice but to carry for now.
“Great,” she mumbled under her breath.
She stiffened for a moment when she noticed Cato standing by the doorway of the closet through the mirror. He wasn’t saying anything, just looking at her. She didn’t turn to meet his eyes, just continuing with what she was doing.
The silence stretched between them until he stepped inside, and she felt his fingers coming to comb her hair slowly, touching it gently. It was soft, almost reverent in a way, as he let it slip through his fingers. Her hair was longer than ever now — nearly down to her waist. He adored it.
But the gentle touch did nothing to comfort her. If anything, it made her shoulders tense more.
“Do you need something?” she asked quietly, her tone free of warmth as she avoided his reflection.
He hesitated for a moment.
“I was just checking on you.”
“I’m fine,” she replied flatly, dabbing the cream across her cheek with a bit more care, knowing it wouldn’t anything to help with the bruise, but… well, what else would she do?
She set the jar down with a little more force than necessary, and it made the table tremble.
Cato’s hand paused in her hair before moving away entirely, and for a moment, she thought he might leave, but he lingered, his presence weighing heavily in the room.
“You should rest,” he said finally, his voice low.
“I will,” Luna answered, still not looking at him.
“We should talk,” Cato affirmed.
“We talked plenty today.”
“You know what I mean,” he insisted.
Luna exhaled, finally looking at his face, but Cato didn’t look angry.
He looked ashamed. His broad shoulders were hunched, his frame practically folding inward as though he was trying to make himself smaller. It was an impossible task for someone of his size, but he tried anyway, completely painted with guilt.
Without a word, she stood, brushing past him into their bedroom, her robe clutched tightly around her body.
“Luna,” he called after her, his voice soft but pleading. “Please.”
But she didn’t want to talk, didn’t he know that? They’d talked enough the whole fucking day.
Before she could step too far away from him, Cato grabbed her arm, squeezing the bruised spot, and she couldn’t help her sound of pain this time.
“I’m sorry,” he blurted out, the words spilling from him almost frantically. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I’m so sorry.”
He let her go quickly, holding her elbow gently.
“I’m sorry!”
Luna yanked her arm back, but his eyes didn’t leave her. They dropped to her cheek, lingering on the bruise she couldn’t hide, his gaze heavy with something between regret and self-loathing.
“I didn’t—” Cato started, but the words caught in his throat.
He swallowed hard, running his eyes over her face, filled with tears.
“I didn’t mean to…”
“Didn’t mean to what, Cato?” she snapped.
She was tired of this already. Could he just fucking give her space? Did he want to fight again? Fine. But she wasn’t backing down – not this time.
“Lose your temper? Hit me?” Luna hissed, stepping up to him.
Cato outrightly shrunk in his spot.
“I’m sorry,” he insisted. “You know I didn’t want to do it. You know I wasn’t… please, Luna.”
She turned away from him, not ready to argue with him again.
But what shocked her was when he fell to his knees in front of her, and she froze on her spot. His hands clung to hers suddenly, trembling, as though letting go could shatter him completely.
“I’m sorry,” he pleaded, and his sobs were the only sound filling the room. “I’m truly sorry. I’m not like my father. I’m not.”
She couldn’t look away, she couldn’t move.
“I love you,” Cato insisted, his voice cracking even more. “You’re my wife. You’re the only person I have in this world. If I lose you… I don’t know life without you.”
The sight of him — this mountain of a man, tall, broad and stronger than anyone she’d even known, reduced to tears, begging on his knees — felt… surreal.
Luna tugged at her hand again, trying to pull free from his grasp, but he held on tighter, his grip pleading.
“Get… get up,” she stammered.
What was he doing?
But he didn’t budge.
“You can do whatever you want,” he offered, his voice growing louder for a moment. “You can hit me. You can humiliate me. You can—”
“What? No!” Luna interrupted sharply, cutting him off.
Why would she do that?!
“Get up,” she repeated, nearly pleading now. “Cato, please. Just… get up.”
Cato didn’t move or answer for a moment, trembling as the tears fell down his face, his skin as red as his eyes. Then, slowly, he let her hand go, his fingers trembling as they fell away.
“I’m sorry,” he whimpered again, his voice raspy as he pushed himself to his feet.
Luna stepped back, feeling her blood pumping fast and her heart even faster in her chest, and she stepped away from him, but he stepped closer to her.
“Please,” he said, his voice still raw and pleading. “I… I said things I shouldn’t have said. You said things you shouldn’t have said. We both—”
“Cato,” she tried to interrupt him.
But he pressed on, cutting her off.
“And I lost control,” he continued, his words coming out in a frantic rush. “I did something I shouldn’t have done. I overstepped. Completely. And I was wrong. I am wrong.”
Luna stared at him. Cato rarely ever said he was wrong, or apologised for that matter.
“Please,” he repeated, his voice trembling, his eyes searching hers. “Can I at least take care of it?”
It took her aback, confused.
What?
“I have… capitol gel,” he explained quickly. “It’ll help with the bruises.”
His words took her aback, catching her off guard. She didn’t know what to say.
For a moment, she just stared at him, unsure whether to push him away or let him try to fix something he couldn’t undo.
But that was the only solution she had, wasn’t it? He would plead and beg and…
And her family was downstairs, and the boys didn’t deserve anything less than for those to go away.
“Fine,” she mumbled. “Alright.”
Cato took a slow step back before turning and walking into his closet, and Luna exhaled sharply, sitting on the edge of the bed as she tried to steady her breathing.
Her eyes drifted to the door — closed, as always. She could see the two locks securing it, a precaution Cato insisted on. He couldn’t sleep if he didn’t feel safe, though she wasn’t sure what he thought he needed protection from – their kids? Their employees?
She rubbed her hands along her thighs, the soft fabric of her nightgown calming in its own small way. When she heard his footsteps returning, she straightened, her shoulders tensing as her eyes flicked up to him.
Cato stopped beside her, towering over her as always and her breath caught in her throat. But Cato just sat down by her side.
Without a word, he reached for her, his large hands careful as he gently tilted her face toward him. His fingers moved as though she might break if he wasn’t as light as a feather.
“It’s okay,” he murmured, almost to himself. “It’s just a little cold.”
She wasn’t wincing from the cold.
His touch was slow and methodical, almost clinical, and then he peeled a thin, transparent patch from its backing, pressing it gently over the bruised spot.
“So it won’t rub off on the pillow,” he told her.
Luna exhaled slowly. That made sense, yeah.
He reached toward the edge of her robe, and her hand shot out instinctively, grabbing his wrist to stop him. Her pulse quickened as their eyes met, his gaze soft, holding no anger —just something unreadable.
“Your arm,” he said simply, his voice low, almost a whisper.
She exhaled. Of course. Her arm.
Luna slowly let go, letting him push the fabric of her robe out of the way, down her shoulder, exposing the angry bruise underneath, and he didn’t dare to look at her face when his fingers ghosted over it, his throat visibly bobbing as he swallowed. She heels her robe over her chest, hiding.
His hands were gentle, but her body still tensed as he repeated the process — gel first, then the patch to seal it.
“I’m sorry,” Cato murmured again, his voice trembling as he smoothed the edges of the patch down.
She didn’t answer him back.
“Is this all?” Luna asked.
Cato let her go slowly, still staring at her arm it was only when she pulled the robe back over her shoulder did he blink, finally looking away.
“It won’t happen again,” he whispered. “I promise you. On my life.”
She studied him, taking in the remorse on his features, the desperation in his eyes, and the way his shoulders sagged under the weight of his words.
Did she even trust him?
“I guess we’ll see,” she mumbled, finally.
Luna wrapped her robe around her, tying it as closed as she could, and moved to her side of the bed, taking two pills and laying down, turning away from him as she turned off her light.
She didn’t look at him when he wrapped his arm around her waist and squeezed her close.
Notes:
Luna's sleepgown. Robe.
Chapter 9: YEAR 15: Young people fall in love with the wrong people sometimes. (1/5)
Summary:
There’s only so much someone can take before snapping. Fifteen years is a long time to be patient. Luna knows that well.
Part 1: Luna starts rethinking the choices she made at 18, but it feels too late to go back.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Luna ran her first finger down the pretty little button nose of the beautiful baby girl in her arms, and she couldn’t help laughing a little when she chased it with her pouting little lips.
Juniper, like the little nickname she always played with her little sister.
And oh, wasn’t Juni the littlest of all little sisters? The only girl her nine brothers who would undoubtedly spoil her, cuddle her, protect her, and play with her to their hearts’ content.
Her last one, her last baby.
And maybe she had said it with with Sweetie, and Sammy, and Lex, and Blue, and Dash. But she was her last one – the doctor had been merciful to her during the c-section and made she wouldn't ever need worry about pregnancy again, and Cato wasn’t there to protest and even know.
How poetic that her final baby was the daughter she had longed for her whole life – the daughter she had convinced herself she would never have.
It had hurt, of course — the pregnancy, the birth, all of it. Her body had struggled. Her uterus was so fragile they were afraid she wouldn’t be able to give birth naturally without a rupture. They weren’t even sure she’d be able to carry Juni to term – by the 34th week, she’d been confined to strict bedrest. The doctor called it ‘as thin as a paper sheet’.
It was terrifying.
But Juni was here, and she was utterly and simply perfect.
Nine full weeks today, her girl.
“You are so beautiful,” Luna cooed.
Oh, she was indeed.
Juni had her hair, brown and pin straight – so far, at least – the first one of her children to do so.
After nine blonde boys, someone looked like her, at last.
And, of, she was so beautifully chubby, and so tall already, with those healthy rolls and chubby cheeks. The doctors had worried very needlessly about her, she was a healthy girl, growing just like she should. She was perfect.
“Mama,” came the tiny, eager voice. “Is she wake?”
Luna turned to the door to the corridor, and Dash looked so excited as he waited by the door with the nanny. His blue eyes were wide with wonder, and his little hands opened and closed again and again, as if holding himself back with every ounce of willpower he had in his little body.
“I’m sorry, ma’am,” the nanny apologised, stepping just inside. “But Odysseus wouldn’t stop asking about the baby.”
Luna laughed softly, her gaze shifting to her sweet boy — her youngest boy, just a few days past two and a half. But Odysseus was such a big name for someone so small and tender. No, to her, he was her Dash.
“Come here,” she beckoned gently, holding out her hand. “She just woke up. But no running.”
Dash nodded solemnly, his tiny legs carrying him toward her with careful, measured steps. His excitement was written all over his face, his cheeks pink, his little body practically trembling with eagerness.
He’d been so proud to become a big brother. Why wouldn’t he be? He had so many older brothers to look up to—so many to teach him how to be one. She was sure all he could think about was how to follow their example for little Juni.
“She is so pretty!” he squeaked as he reached her side, peering at the bundle in her arms. “She looks like you!”
Luna’s heart melted. She reached out to gently brush his blond hair back from his face. He had a little bit of her, she could see, even it most people only saw his father in him.
“Do you think so?” she asked with a soft smile.
Dash nodded intensely, his eyes never leaving the baby.
“Yeah! Her hair is brown, like yours!” he stood on his tiptoes, trying to get a better look. “Can I hold her, mama? Please?”
Luna chuckled softly, softening.
“Not yet, Dash. She’s still very small,” she reminded him. “But you can sit next to me and see her up close.”
Dash’s grin spread wide across his face, and the nanny helped him come sit on the space by her side in the large, and her boy leaned as close as he possibly could to the baby in her arm.
“Hi, baby,” he whispered. “It’s Dash. I’m your big brother!”
She couldn’t help smiling. Yes, he said that every time – to her belly, to Juni when she came home, and every morning and night he came to say hello to her.
“She knows, baby,” Luna caressed her hair. “She remembers you.”
Dash’s eyes widened, lighting up.
“She does?” he asked. “But does she know I’ll protect her?”
Luna leaned in, kissing his temple.
“I’m sure she does,” she assured him.
But, of course, the moment of calm didn’t last. Luna barely had a second to enjoy the quiet before a commotion broke out downstairs, the raised voices echoed through the house, cutting through her peace like a blade, and she exchanged a quick glance with the nanny before standing, her heart sinking.
“Mama?” Dash asked, sounding worried.
Luna softened her expression for him, placing a gentle hand on his cheek.
“I’ll be back,” she told him. “And Miss Anna is going to help you play with Juni, okay?”
The nanny nodded quickly, taking Juniper, and Luna tried not to wince in pain when she felt the old back ache she got for weeks after birth for the last five years. She braced herself with one hand against the wall as she made her way down the stairs, taking one step at a time, sore, still working on her balance.
But the shouting only grew louder as she descended. By the time she reached the second set of stairs, Luna could clearly make out at least three voices mixing together in anger, the harsh tone of a fight brewing already.
Prince and Hunter were in another screaming match with their father.
The boys were growing up — too fast, honestly. Prince was fourteen already, his voice had deepened and he was getting taller than her, and Hunter, at thirteen, nearly exactly one year younger, wasn’t far behind. And their temper wasn’t too different from Cato’s.
As she reached the last step, her worst guess was confirmed. Cato had his hand on Prince’s face, gripping his chin tightly with his fingers digging into the skin of his cheeks, forcing her boy to look up at him, his eyes burning in fury and his knuckles white.
“You wash your fucking mouth before you speak like that to me,” Cato growled, his voice low, seething with barely controlled rage.”I’m your father, I’m not one of your bitches.”
Luna’s stomach dropped and her blood boiled as Prince’s jaw tightened, his blue eyes full of defiance and fear, and Hunter stood right near him, his fists clenched, his face pale but his stance protective, as if ready to jump in at any moment.
“What do you think you are doing?” she screamed, not even able to keep her voice straight.
All three of them froze at her words.
Cato turned first, his grip on Prince’s face loosening slightly but not falling away entirely, and his gaze met hers, hard, and he wavered with surprise.
“Luna,” he began, his voice low, as if trying to control the situation.
She didn’t let him even try.
“Let. Him. Go,” she commanded, her voice cold.
Archie was frozen behind Ted, his big brother outrightly protecting him with his body, and the sight of it made her taste bitter on the back of her mouth.
Cato hesitated for a moment before finally releasing Prince, his hand dropping to his side, and Prince immediately took a step back, his chest heaving as he rubbed at his cheeks, his angry eyes shifting to the floor, and Hunter stepped closer to his brother, his fists still tight but his expression softening as his eyes moved from Cato to her.
Luna walked to him in hard steps, ignoring them pain as she put herself between him and her boys.
“What the hell is going on?”
They all made silence for a moment, Cato staring right over her shoulder at the boys.
“He-” Prince started.
“Don’t,” Cato interrupted sharply, cutting him off.
“Don’t what? Let him speak?” she glared back at him. “Get into the kitchen.”
Cato squared her up, visibly swallowing his frustration and she stepped closer, firmer.
“Get. Into. The kitchen,” she repeated.
Finally, he broke the stand-off, storming off into the kitchen. Luna waited, watching his retreat before turning to the boys.
“Are you alright?” she asked, reaching for Prince’s chin carefully.
It was a little red, but nothing that would bruise.
Prince nodded stiffly, his pride clearly hurt, and Hunter gave her a little nod as well, his fists finally unclenching as he glanced toward his older brother.
“You…” she said, looking at Hunter and the other boys, “go. I’ll figure what got into your father.”
Prince’s jaw tightened, his voice low with bitter anger.
“He’s just being himself.”
Without waiting, he stormed off, Hunter trailing after him. Luna turned her attention to the younger boys, Ted and Archie, who had been silent witnesses to the scene.
“You two, upstairs,” she instructed firmly. “Homework. Now.”
They exchanged a nervous glance but didn’t argue, quickly retreating up the stairs.
Luna sighed as she moved her hand down, her skin just feeling overstretched over her scar, holding the spot as if it would change anything as he walked to the kitchen.
Cato was standing by the counter, his face twisted in anger, like a sulking child.
“What the fuck were you thinking?” she slammed the kitchen door behind her, the sound echoing like a thunderclap. “How dare you?”
To touch Prince like that? Grab him?!
He could have hurt him!
“He was disrespecting me!” Cato roared back, his finger jabbing the air. “That little shit disrespected me in front of Brutus not even an hour ago. And if you hadn’t come down here and made a goddamn scene, I’d have taught him the lesson he’s been needing for a long time!”
Her blood boiled.
“You don’t get to talk about my son like that.”
“He’s my son too!” Cato shot back, his voice rising. “I’ll teach him however I see fit!”
Luna’s eyes narrowed, her voice dropping to a deadly calm.
“You can teach your students however you want. Your little tributes. But this is my house. Those are my sons.”
She wasn’t going to let him walk all over the boys, and she wasn’t going to let him treat them like fucking punchbags.
“They’re spoiled brats because of you! You coddle them, and now they think they can run their mouths at me!”
“They are the only reason I haven’t packed up and left you,” she threw back, louder than him. “And you’d do damn well to remember that.”
Cato’s nostrils flared, his jaw clenching as he took a step toward her, his voice low, almost pleading.
“Luna, we just had a baby,” he said, reaching out to touch her arm.”Don’t-”
But she stepped back.
“And that only means I was stupid for one night eleven months ago. Don’t you try to change the subject.”
She hated him. She absolutely hated him. And worse, she hated how he still knew how to bend if he worked hard enough, how to soften her. And maybe she’d made that mistake of letting him back closer to her dropping her guard and taking what he gave her, but every time she let him an inch close he proved why he was kept so far away. And they were damn good reminders.
His jaw tightened again and the flicker of softness in his face vanished, replaced by anger.
“You don’t get to talk to me like that,” he hissed, his finger pointing at her. “That’s exactly why those boys don’t respect me — because you don’t.”
“I will talk to you however the hell I want,” she shot back. “And if you want to grab and fight someone, go find someone your size. Not a child.”
“They’re my boys too!” he shouted, his voice rising to match hers.
Cato’s nostrils flared, and for a moment, she thought he might explode, but instead, he laughed bitterly, shaking his head.
“You really think you’re some kind of saint, don’t you? Keeping this house together with your self-righteousness while I’m out there doing everything for this family—”
It her turn to want to laugh.
“Everything?” Luna interrupted, her voice sharp and cutting. She took a step closer, to him, and Cato took one back. “You think throwing money at us and stomping around this house like a tyrant is ‘everything’? You think being feared by your own children makes you a father? You’re not doing this family any favours.”
His jaw tightened, his hands flexing at his sides.
“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” he spat.
“I know enough to keep my children from you,” Luna snapped, her voice colder now, the heat in her anger simmering in her belly. “You think you’re the man of this house? Then act like one. Because right now, all I see is a bully who can’t handle being challenged by a fourteen-year-old boy.”
The room fell into silence, and Cato stared at her, his chest rising and falling as if he were trying to find the words to fight back, but none came.
“If you ever, ever, put your hands on them like that again, I swear on my own name, Cato, you won’t have hands to touch them with anymore.”
“You wouldn’t do it,” he snickered back.
She didn’t flinch, didn’t even blink.
“Test me,” she said. “I dare you.”
There was a little voice right in the back of her mind for a long time, waiting for a reason – wanting for any reason.
If he was giving them out so freely now… well, she wouldn’t think twice.
She turned to leave, ready to put distance between them, when his voice cut through the silence between them.
“I’m leaving for the Capitol,” he announced flatly. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”
She didn’t stop walking, her reply as cold and dismissive as ice.
“Don’t rush it.”
But before she could take another step, his hand shot out, gripping her arm like a vice and yanking her back toward him. The sudden force pulled her closer than she wanted to be — closer than she ever wanted to be again. His face hovered above hers, sharp and shadowed, his breath hot against her cheek.
Luna froze, her pulse pounding in her ears as she tried to keep her expression steady, unreadable. But her body betrayed her — a shudder ran through her, not from desire, not from anything even resembling that, but from raw, bone-deep fear. And she was right back to the reason she put so much distance between them in the last five years.
Cato’s lips curled into a thin, cruel smile. His eyes, cold and unfeeling, dug into hers, as if daring her to flinch.
“And I don’t get a goodbye kiss?”
Luna’s jaw tightened, her throat dry. She forced herself to breathe through the panic clawing at her chest. She rose onto her tiptoes slowly, her movements stiff and mechanical, and pressed her lips to his in the coldest, most lifeless kiss she could muster.
It was stiff. Dry. A kiss that felt like anything but an act of affection when she touched his hardened lips with her own..
But it was.
It was intimation, his speciality.
Cato was the one who finally let her go, stepping back as though he had already won, and Luna stayed frozen as he left the kitchen, her hands trembling as she smoothed down her dress, steadying her breath.
“Mum?”
The voice startled her, and Luna’s head whipped toward the sound, everything in her still ready to run away.
The kitchen door creaked open fully, and there stood Prince, his light eyebrows furrowed in a deep frown, confusion and anger mixing in his eyes.
“What was that?” he asked, light eyebrows joined in a frown, confused.
She stared at him, confused for a moment, still stiff, her pain flaring up again.
She needed to sit down.
“After what you saw? After what you said!?” Prince pressed, stepping closer. His voice was rising, his teenage indignation sharper than any blade.
Luna sighed.
Prince was 14. The world was black and white in his mind, everything was one thing or the other. There was no grey in his mind, no room for the nuances adulthood forced them all into.
“He screams at us! He… he breaks thing! He broke my door twice!” her oldest list. “He scares the boys!”
Luna closed her eyes. He did. And he scared her as well.
But Prince didn’t know that, did he? He never got to see it, she was good at covering it up, she was good at pretending the intimidation tactics never got to her, at wearing those big sleeves and the good make-up when she pushed him too far, and how many of her smiles were as practised as Cato’s own now.
She had always been good at knowing when to fight back and when to fold, at knowing where the line was and how not to cross it. She was good at surviving him and keeping from going through that.
And maybe that was what she hated most of all in herself.
“And you… kiss him?” Prince asked, his cheeks red. “You… you just… kissed him!”
“It’s complicated,” she said simply.
Because it was.
Because she wanted to leave, but where would she go? How would she keep them, how would she feed them?
But where would she go? How would she keep them fed, safe, protected? What judge would grant her custody of all nine boys and her girl, when Cato had money, connections, and a reputation that masked the tyrant they had to watch and live?
“You threatened him!” Prince’s voice broke again, raw with disbelief. “And then, in the same room, you kissed him!”
His words stung more than they should have.
Luna’s chest ached as she looked at her son, too young to understand how deeply the world could cut, how it could pin you in a corner and dare you to find a way out.
Her lips parted, but no words came.
How could she explain half of it to him?
“I’m doing the best I can,” she decided, finally. “And sometimes, the best I can...”
She didn’t finish the phrase. Sometimes the best she could was a kiss, or a night, or any distractions that would keep him thinking he had the upper-hand.
But Prince stared at her, his face twisted in pure disgust, outrage covering his boyish features like an endless fire.
“I hate him!” he declared, his hands curled into tight fists at his sides. His voice was trembling, not with fear, but with the sheer weight of his fury. “When I grow up, I’m going to leave! And I’m taking everyone with me!”
Luna’s breath hitched, her heart clenching.
Oh, her sweet boy.
“Don’t speak like that,” she whispered, her voice cracking for a moment as her throat tightened.
“I will!” he shot back, his voice shaking with how much determination he was putting on it. “I’ll win the Games, and they’re all going to come with me. We’ll live in grandma’s city, and if you want to stay with him, then you can stay all alone!”
The words struck her like a blow, cutting deeper than anything Cato had ever said or done.
Luna’s eyes filled with tears, a hot, the pressure threatening to spill over. The thought of being without them — without her babies — was unbearable. She would die before she stayed a single day away from them.
She reached for him, pulling him close, her arms wrapping around his thin frame. When had he grown so tall? How was he already taller than her at just fourteen?
“You don’t mean that,” she whispered desperately, her voice trembling as she held him tighter. “You—”
“I do!” he snapped.
Luna pulled back, her hands cupping his flushed cheeks, her thumbs brushing the anger off his skin as if she could soothe him. As if she could somehow make him see.
“You’re a child,” she said, her voice soft but firm. “You don’t understand—”
“I understand enough!” Prince interrupted, his eyes fiery. “And if you want to stay, you stay. But I’m not staying. I don’t care what I have to do, but I’m not gonna live like this!”
Before Luna could say anything more, Prince stepped away from her, his movements sharp and deliberate, and turned around. She reached for him again, but he was already walking away.
And then he was gone, leaving her standing alone in the kitchen, the weight of his words pressing down on her like an elefant.
She covered her face with a hand, leaning into the counter, exhaling.
God.
Luna didn’t see him through the day after that. Prince, Hunter and Ted went off to their afternoon training, and she helped Ted and then Sweetie with their homeworks, and checked what Blue had brought to finish at home – his class was learning letters now, he had to paint the vowels, even though he could already read in the same level of Lex and even Sammy.
She asked the cook to make Prince’s favourite for dinner – salmon with passion fruit sauce, and green salad with all the garnishing he loved. Luna made sure to be the one to serve everyone as they sat in the kitchen, one by one of the boy – even Dash, who just needed a little bit of help with cutting things up, but it was fine. Still, the kitchen was quiet as she did, and he didn’t meet her eyes as she put his plate down.
“Your father is at the Capitol now,” she told the boys. “He said he’s returning tomorrow, but you know how he sometimes gets caught up with work.”
Work, it was what she called. His time was bought with all things possible, to be spent entertaining people however they wished.
She pitied Cato in that small, hollow part of her heart she wished didn’t exist. She hated him, yes — hated him for the way his pain turned into anger, and his anger turned into bruises on walls and doors and skin — but she pitied him too. He had no control over his life, his body, his choices. He’d long since traded them all away, a pawn for the Capitol’s whims. And though he might have earned his victories long ago, he’d never truly escaped the Games. Not really.
And Luna... loved him, a little, in a way. No more than she hated him, now, no, because he never let himself be helped, or shared, or did more than let his resentment pile until it spilled over on them – and the boys wouldn’t even understand why! They could never understand why, because they were children, and they shouldn’t know those things.
She loved the person he used to be. She mourned him a little bit more every day.
“And how was training today?” she asked, her voice purposefully bright, as she forced herself to look up at them.
Hunter was the one to answer, lighting up in excitement;
“I almost got the eye with my arrows!” he told her, very excited. “But Ted tried to show off again, and the instructor made him do twenty extra laps.”
Ted scowled, poking at his salad with disdain.
“I wasn’t showing off. I just—”
“You tripped and fell trying to jump that wall,” Hunter cut in with a smirk, never one to ever wait.
“I didn’t trip!” Ted snapped, his cheeks turning red.
“You always trip,” Archie spoke up. “You’re clumsy!”
Ted blushed more, and Luna touched his cheek softly.
“I’m a little clumsy too,” she told him. “It’s fine.”
She glanced at Prince, hoping he’d join in the teasing or at least crack a smile. But he remained silent, eating mechanically, his eyes just on his plate.
“And what about you, Prince?” she asked gently, trying to draw him out.
He paused, his fork hovering over his plate, before finally answering in a clipped tone.
“Fine.”
Just one word, cold and distant, and it cut through her like a knife.
She wanted to reach for him, to ask him more, but the hard set of his jaw and the way he refused to look at her made her hesitate.
Instead, she turned to Blue, ruffling his messy hair with a warm smile.
“And what about my blue boy? What did you do today?”
Her blue boy — lover of all things blue. Blue was the reason they had blueberry bushes in the backyard now.
“I painted all the vowels today! The ‘O’ is my favourite ‘cause it’s round like Dash’s face and he looks like an O!”
Dash lit up, his small hands flying to his cheeks.
“I do?” he squealed.
Sammy reached for him, poking his cheek with a finger.
“You do!”
The boys erupted into laughter, their chatter finally spilling into the room. For a moment, the kitchen was alive again, filled with the kind of energy Luna loved. She let herself settle into the moment, her gaze moved back to Prince as she pecked on her food, the stress still making her shoulders heavy and eating a full plate hard. He still sat stiff and quiet, his focus pinned to his plate, eating as though he were anywhere but here.
Her heart clenched. She hated seeing him like that — so upset it kept him away from all the fun with the other boys.
Then, just as she was about to prod him again, Prince spoke, his voice low but audible over the chatter.
“There’s a competition,” he said, still not looking up. “At the end of the month. For the older kids. Sixteen and up.”
Luna took in a deep breath, trying not to show more than neutraliyy. God knew she didn’t want to ruin it.
“Really?” she asked.
Yes, she did know about those. She never classified for any when she was in school.
“A competition?” Lex asked.
“Yeah,” Prince said, setting his fork down and finally looking up. “Dad told me about it. It’s supposed to be a big deal. Only the best get to join.”
Luna nodded slowly, trying not to harden up.
“I remember those. Your Aunt Juno got… fourth place in her final year.”
Hunter’s eyes widened.
“And you think they’ll let you in?”
Prince hesitated, his jaw tightening as he looked from her to Hunter. She didn’t like any of that talk – competitions, them being trained into little soldiers… but it got him talking, so Luna had to swallow her pride and let him do it.
“Dad wants me to be good enough,” he explained, not meeting her eyes. “He’s been pushing me harder in training — making me run extra drills, spar more. That’s why I’m sore this week. It’s cause I’m using my muscles more.”
Muscles. Of course.
Hunter blinked, looking sceptical.
“Dad wants you to be in it?” he asked, completely not believing in him. “Like, actually compete with the older kids?”
Prince nodded strongly.
“He does!”
“You have to be sixteen,” Ted interjected. “You’re not even close. You won’t be sixteen for forever! When you’re sixteen, I will be almost fourteen.”
“And Dad doesn’t like spending time with us,” Archie added bluntly, stabbing a broccoli with his fork. “He wouldn’t be training you.”
Luna’s stomach twisted. Archie was far from wrong, and that was terribly sad.
Before… Cato put some effort into the boys.
He was there for the birth of Prince, Hunter, Ted and Archie. He was active and changing nappies, and cleaning them, feeding them at dinner, playing with them… after Sweetie, he started stepping away, being a little less present. He wasn’t able to attend the birth, and by the time she was having Sammy, she didn’t want him in the room, and he barely did much more than look at the baby.
And, of course, the older boys were growing up and started having their own tastes and personalities and wills, and didn’t look at him like they were looking at a hero anymore. He didn’t even try with Lex, Blue or Dash, and it certainly made her happy to not have him even pretend with Juni. Cato had never picked her up once, or changed or… anything. He barely looked at her.
Prince’s eyes flickered to Archie, none of the meaning of his words even seeming to get to him.
“Well, he said I could do it if I worked hard enough. He said that when he was my age he was already competing with the big kids and I just have to prove it to him that I can do it.”
Hunter still didn’t look convinced, but the spark of competition in his own eyes was undeniable.
“Well, if you’re in, I wanna train too. What if they let me in next year?”
“You’re too young,” Prince said flatly, though there wasn’t any real malice in his tone. “You’re just thirteen.”
“You are just fourteen!” Hunter argued back, huffing. “And I’m much faster than you, and much better with a bow!”
Her throat tightened. The thought of the boys in that competition was just… terrifying. She’d seen those kids, they were huge. Her boys were just little kids with big limbs.
“Well,” she interrupted, her voice firm but calm, “if I remember right, it’s a competition for kids over sixteen. Neither of you are sixteen yet.”
“See!” Hunter pointed at Prince.
But her oldest wasn’t any convinced.
“Dad said they will let me in if I’m good,” Prince affirmed, very strong as his fork scrapped the plate. “And I’m good!”
“I’m good too!” Hunter argued.
“You’re a kid!” he argued.
“You are both kids,” Luna interrupted them, unable to take it anymore, and lowered her voice quickly. “All nine of you are kids.”
The boys fell into silence, and she stood up, trying to take in a deep breath, trying to control her own anger.
Was this what Cato wanted them to become? Little soldiers, eager to skip childhood just to become prey to those people?
“I’m fourteen, I’m not a kid!” Prince argued.
“Yeah, neither am I!” Hunter spoke up.
She let out a breath. Well, she had them at 19 and 20, and she was fucking kid then. Why wouldn’t they be kids when they were barely out of their cribs?!
“You are kids,” she corrected them. “All of you. And you should be spending your time thinking about school, about what games to play, about what you want for dessert — not about training for some competition that isn’t even meant for you yet.”
Prince’s jaw clenched, his fork frozen mid-air. He looked away, his whole face full of defiance.
“But Dad says—”
“I don’t care what your father says,” Luna cut in, sharper than she intended.
Sweetie, Lex and Sammy looked up at her with big eyes, scared, and she softened her face.
“I mean… I care,” she lied. “But this isn’t about him. This is about you.”
Hunter crossed his arms, pouting, and she rubbed her temple.
“But if Dad thinks Prince can do it, then why not? And if Prince can do it, then I can do it! If he was competing-”
“Because your father didn’t have a mother to stop him,” Luna interrupted, the words tumbling out before she could stop herself, her voice trembling with frustration, and maybe too loud. “He didn’t get to decide what he wanted to do with his life. He just had a selfish idiot telling him to fulfil his dreams for him. And look where it got him. Do you think he’s happy now?”
The boys fell silent, their eyes flickering to one another. Even Prince didn’t have a response to that.
Luna realised too late what she’d said, the truth of her bitterness filling the quiet like a storm cloud, and her hand flew to her face, covering her mouth, but the damage was done.
A soft, trembling whine broke the silence, and she looked up just in time to see Dash’s big blue eyes welling with tears. When he started to cry, her heart just broke.
Oh, God.
She ran to him.
“I’m sorry,” she said quickly, scooping him into her arms and holding him close. “I’m so sorry, my sweet boy. Mama shouldn’t have yelled. Mama was so impolite today.”
Luna scooped her littlest boy into her arms, rubbing his back, trying to comfort him.
“I was so harsh, I’m so sorry,” she looked at the boys.
She rubbed his back in soothing circles, murmuring apologies, and his cries softened as he buried his face in her shoulder, clutching at her.
Her eyes traced the other boy, and Blue’s little lips were curled in sadness as she caressed his cheek, and the other were all tense as they looked at her. Luna wasn’t the type to yell, she never treated them like that.
“I was too harsh,” she told them quickly, her voice softer now.“I’m sorry. I just… I don’t want this for you. I don’t want you to live a life running back and forth to the Capitol, being close to those people. You know how I feel about them, how much I hate the games and what they do to people. I just want to keep you safe.”
Prince stared at her, his eyes unsettling as they bore into her.
He was Cato’s perfect little copy. Skinner and a tad shorter, but the same boy she used to watch enchant girls in school when she was that age.
For a moment, he looked like he might argue back. But then his shoulders slumped, and he pushed his plate away, suddenly uninterested in the food he’d been so happy to eat just a moment ago.
Hunter shifted uncomfortably in his seat, glancing at his brothers, who were all unusually quiet now.
“We were just talking about it,” he mumbled.
Luna held Dash tighter, wishing she could take back the last ten minutes and hold her family together. But there it was — her fear laid bare, her words too sharp for boys their age.
She kissed his little temple, and the boys went back to eating slowly, even her littlest one, but everyone was quiet for the rest of the night and when they went to bed.
Notes:
Ages of characters now, on August of the year of the 89th Hunger Games
Luna: 33 years old
Cato: 33 years old (to turn 34 in September)
Cato "Prince" II: 14 years old
Hunter: 13 years old
Victor "Teddy" : 11 years old
Archer “Archie”: 9 years old
Gunner "Sweetie": 8 years old
Sawyer "Sammy": 7 years old
Alexander "Lex": 6 years old (turned the prior month)
Orion “Blue" Hadley, born on the 1st of January of the year of the 85th Hunger Games: 4 years old
Odysseus "Dash" Hadley, born on the 21st of January of the year of the 87th Hunger Games: 2 years and 6 months old.
Juniper "Juni" Hadley, born on the 1st of June of the year of the 89th Hunger Games: 2 months/9 weeks old.
Chapter 10: YEAR 15: Young people fall in love with the wrong people sometimes. (2/7)
Summary:
Luna spends a day of peace with the kids while Cato is away from home.
Chapter Text
Luna fought to keep her eyes open as Juni clung tightly to her, her tiny hands gripping like she never wanted to let go in the dimlit bedroom.
It was the same cycle, over and over. Ten minutes of restless sleep — if she could even call it that — before Juni stirred awake, her little cries almost like little whines. Then another twenty minutes of feeding followed, the rhythmic sounds of her suckling almost lulling Luna into a daze, only to be interrupted by the next cycle: a brief, fleeting cat nap, then more feeding again.
The midwives had given it a name when she went through it with Hunter: “cluster feeding.” As if putting a label on it made it feel less draining.
It wasn’t new for her in any way.
Prince was the perfect baby when he was born, the calmest little thing. He ate at the exact same time, needed to be cleaned at the exact same time… her oldest was a little clock.
Then came Hunter, a little bit less predictable. And then Ted, who could not be left alone one moment or he would cry like he’d been abandoned behind the justice building by neglectful parents.
After Archie, everything was chaos.
Maybe having Blue and Dash – her calmest little boys, with their tight routine and sleep cycles – had gotten her spoiled.
She adjusted her position slightly, feeling Juni squirm against her chest, the warmth of her baby’s tiny body pressing close against her own. It was equal parts comforting and overwhelming. Her heart swelled with love every time she held her, but her arms were heavy, her muscles crying out for rest.
Still, Luna cradled her carefully, refusing to let exhaustion get the better of her.
Two more days. That was how long she supposed Cato would be gone, considering he hadn't returned when he said he would. He never went to the Capitol for quick visits, which meant she had time — time to breathe, to find some rhythm, to focus on Juni and the boys and not having him breathing down her neck for her perceived… laziness? Inadequacies?
“Why won’t you sleep?” she patted her little back. “You’re full. You’re safe…”
Babies.
“Just sleep,” Luna begged, closing her eyes, resting her head on the padded board behind her.
She wasn’t having another baby, she couldn’t have another baby. This had to be the last time.
Juni was lovely and sweet and the cutest little baby.
And yet all Luna could think was how fucking stupid she was to let herself be bamboozled enough that she was conceived.
“Please,” she whispered to her girl, looking down at her. “You’re gonna drive me crazy!”
And there she was, little Juni, with her brown eyes open and staring at her, her little hand right on top of her breast, no worries in her pretty face.
Luna exhaled slowly, shaking her head in defeat.
“You’re lucky you’re cute,” she muttered, cradling Juni closer and rocking her a little more firmly, determined to coax her into sleep.
It felt like a lifetime — thirty long, torturous minutes — before Juni’s eyelids finally drooped and her breathing softened into that steady rhythm that signaled she was, at last, asleep. Luna didn’t dare move for another few minutes, just to be sure.
She moved ever so slowly to the nursery, setting her baby down on her crib and setting it to some gentle few minutes of rocking her before pulling her nightgown up and taking the crib monitor with her before making her way out through her bedroom and out to the corridor.
Her eyes met the framed training sword before she could even close the door, and she looked away quickly, feeling her back stiffening up.
Cato’s collection, all eight of his swords spread all over the wall right in front of her bedroom, for her to see every time she stepped out of her room.
His pride and glory – the sword he used to train with before winning the games, one for every five years of his win, and other celebrations she didn' care. Pieces he just wanted to collect.
Swords. Violence right outside her door, inside her house.
Luna’s throat tightened, and she looked away quickly, her fingers gripping the baby monitor just a little tighter. Her feet carried her down the corridor, determinedly avoiding the display, but her eyes betrayed her, darting back to the newest addition.
A blade nearly as long as Cato’s arm, with its golden hilt gleaming even in the dim light. And at the bottom of the handle, a single ruby was embedded, catching and refracting the light in an almost mocking brilliance.
His name was etched into the blade, bold and unmistakable, alongside the inscription celebrating the 15th anniversary of his victory in the Hunger Games.
Luna swallowed hard, the familiar, bitter taste of unease creeping in as she hurried down the corridor.
She made her way down, moving to check the boys in their rooms on the bottom floor – Dash had thankfully not escaped his bed, but Blue had escaped to bunk up with Lex in his bed, and Sammy as sleeping with his feet on his pillow, but they were all fine.
There was light coming from the kitchen when she made her way in, and Luna pushed the door slowly before stepping in.
“Hello?” she called softly.
Hunter turned to look at her from the fridge, his cheeks full like a chipmunk as he seemed to chew on something – well, many things at once – as he pulled ingredients from the fridge, and Luna couldn’t help chuckling.
“Hi, mum,” he spoke with his mouth still full.
Luna smiled. Her little chipmunk, he was never patient enough to chew on food before putting more in his mouth.
“The food’s not going anywhere,” she teased lightly, leaning against the counter as she opened the small fridge for a bottle of water. “Whatever it used to be is long dead, I promise.”
Hunter shrugged nonchalantly, still chewing, and Luna just shook her head with a smile.
She watched him for a moment.
The boys were growing up — really growing up. Prince and Hunter were already teenagers, Teddy would join them soon, and the younger ones weren’t far behind. It was a surprise, watching her boys transform from little toddlers into young men.
She could still hear Mum's exasperated voice complaining about how she, Juno, and Jupiter ate like they had never been fed. Now she understood exactly what she meant then.
Prince and Hunter were bottomless pits. It didn’t matter what time of day — or night — it was; they were always ready to eat. Luna couldn’t remember a single recent night she came down and hadn’t found one of them rummaging through the kitchen, gathering snacks to hoard upstairs. Most nights, they’d share their loot while everyone else slept.
They were a pair, those two — inseparable, tightly bound in that unspoken way only close siblings could be.
Hunter swallowed the stuff in his mouth as he turned to her.
“I’m making sandwiches,” he announced, shutting the fridge with a nudge of his foot.
Luna smiled faintly, tilting her head at him.
“Yes, I can see that.”
A small smile flickered on his face as he returned to the other fridge, pulling out a package of turkey and a jar of honey mustard.
“You like honey mustard, right?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder.
She nodded a little.
“Quite a bit.”
She practically drank that when she was pregnant with Juni. She’d poured it on everything — salads, chicken, even plain toast.
Hunter didn’t say anything as she kept drinking her water, feeling terribly dehydrated after so long with Juni attached to her chest.
Her boy worked methodically, cutting into six rolls of bread, carefully assembling the sandwiches without rushing, uncharacteristically quiet. All Luna caught were him glancing her way now and then, as though checking to make sure she was still there.
The boys had gone to bed upset from dinner. She hadn’t wanted to press them then, not when they were all already so wound up, but everything about it still worried her.
Cato was setting them up for things they weren’t ready for – that she herself was ready for.
How long would it be before it became a problem again?
She couldn’t linger in the silence any longer.
“Are you okay?” Luna asked.
Hunter turned to her, his eyes widening briefly before he ducked his head, his mouth clamped shut.
“Yeah,” he mumbled.
Luna wasn’t convinced. Not for a second.
She exhaled deeply, setting her nearly empty water bottle on the counter.
“I’m sorry,” she told him. “For yelling at dinner. I shouldn’t have. You boys didn’t deserve that.”
Hunter’s head dipped lower, his cheeks turning faintly pink as he grabbed a plate and placed two sandwiches in it, and he slid it toward her, still avoiding her gaze.
“It’s alright,” he murmured. “You were upset.”
But Luna shook her head firmly, reaching out to catch one of his hands and the squeeze made him finally look up at her.
“It’s not alright,” she said firmly, but gentle. “Just because I’m upset doesn’t mean I get to take it out on you — or any of your brothers.”
Hunter’s lips parted as though he wanted to answer, but no words came out. His eyes wavered, and she could see the emotions bubbling beneath it all. Luna brushed his cheek with her hand, careful as her thumb caressed his skin. She could see it as his shoulders dropped a little and his body relaxed, and he let himself be hugged.
“It’s okay,” she pressed a kiss to his temple. “You can be upset.”
He shuddered in her arms.
“Why doesn’t he choose me?” Hunter asked, his voice so small it shocked her.
She couldn’t help how it ached in her, how it filled with guilt.
Hunter pulled back, looking at her face, his brown eyes shinning as he blinekd his tears away.
“He doesn’t even know I exist!” he exclaimed. “He ignores all of us, and when he isn’t ignoring us, he only pays attention to Prince! When he talks to me, it's just so that he can yell at me!”
Luna rubbed his shoulder, trying to comfort him.
“I don’t know, baby,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.”
Hunter’s lips curled down and he looked away, blinking more, shaking his head.
This wasn’t what she thought it would be, being a mother.
When Prince and Hunter were born – even Teddy! – things were good. Cato had been present, involved, and kind. He wasn’t perfect, but he was there. Even when their Sweet Boy had been born, Cato had still made an effort, still tried to be the father they needed.
She hoped the boys wouldn’t remember those earlier days. She hoped they wouldn’t cling to the memory of what their father had once been, but just accept the distant shadow he had become. It would hurt less that way, wouldn’t it?
Most of them already acted like he didn’t exist. Lex had once asked her why Cato even lived with them if he never spent time with them. And yet, looking into Hunter’s tear-filled eyes, she knew how deeply her second-born had been holding onto something the others hadn’t.
And then, as his gaze locked onto hers again, he spoke the words that broke her completely.
“Why doesn’t he love me anymore?”
The question hung in the air, devastating in its simplicity, and Luna felt a sob rise in her throat. She bit it back, forcing herself to remain steady, but her chest burned with the weight of his pain.
And it killed her — absolutely killed her — how much she wanted to defend Cato at that moment. To tell Hunter that yes, of course, his father loved him. That he loved Hunter, his brothers, and his sister more than anything, and he just didn’t know how to show it.
But she couldn’t.
She couldn’t open her mouth and say those words because she didn’t even know if they were true anymore.
So Luna didn’t speak. She didn’t try to find an excuse for Cato. Instead, she reached for Hunter, wrapping her arms around him tightly, holding onto the boy who still fit in her arms — her boy who was growing too fast but was, in this moment, still hers to hold.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice trembling as she pulled him even closer, her cheek pressed against his hair. Her arms tightened around him, as though sheer force alone could shield him from the hurt he felt. “You are so, so loved, honey. I see you. I love every little fibre of you. Your brothers love you, your sister loves you, your uncle, your aunt, your grandparents — everyone who has had the privilege of knowing the wonderful boy you are loves you.”
Hunter didn’t say a word, but she felt him hide his face in her neck, his arms winding around her as he clung to her and his warm tears slipped into her skin, each one breaking her heart a little more.
“And if someone — anyone — doesn’t know how lucky they are to have you in their life,” Luna affirmed firmly, trying to keep her voice from breaking. “If they don’t see how much of a privilege it is to know you, to see you, to be with you… then they are stupid.”
Hunter gave a shaky exhale, his body trembling slightly as he held on to her like she was his anchor. Luna pressed a soft kiss to the top of his head, stroking his back in slow, soothing circles, her own tears trailing down her face.
When Hunter pulled back, Luna held his face gently, her hands cradling his cheeks as her thumbs brushed away the wet tracks of his tears.
“You are the kindest boy I’ve ever met,” she said as firmly as she could. “Your mind is brilliant, Hunter. You think deeply, and you care so much. You put effort into everything you do. Even when things don’t go the way you hoped, you can always say you tried, and that alone is so much more than most adults can say.”
He looked at her, his wide blue eyes shining, soft and full of emotion.
He didn’t say anything, but the way he stared at her — so vulnerable, so trusting — made her want to gather him up like he was still a baby, keep him safe in her arms forever, and never let Cato come near him again.
Hunter swallowed hard, sniffing as he dropped his gaze, looking away from her.
“He’s really stupid, Mum,” he mumbled, his voice low and tight.
Luna’s heart felt tiny in her chest.
“He is,” she agreed. "The most stupid man in Panem."
There was no need for empty platitudes or denials — Hunter deserved her honesty.
She let her hands linger on his face for a moment longer before pulling him into another hug. It didn’t fix the ache in her chest or the wound in his heart, but she hoped it reminded him that no matter what Cato did — or didn’t do — he would always have her, and her love for him would never do anything but grow.
The loud grumble of Hunter’s stomach broke the moment between them, the sound echoing in the quiet kitchen. It startled him enough that he pulled away, his face flushing in that adorably familiar way that never failed to make Luna smile. Despite the heaviness of the conversation, the sight of him blushing lightened the weight on her back, if only a little.
She stood, leaning down to press a kiss to his temple, her lips lingering for just a moment.
“Go finish making your sandwiches,” she said gently. “Do you want to take anything else up?”
Hunter hesitated for a beat, his gaze a little sheepish as he finally asked.
“Cake? For me and Prince.”
Luna couldn’t help the soft smile that tugged at her lips. Of course, he hadn’t come down just for himself. He never did.
“I’ll get it,” she assured him, already moving to the cupboard for a lidded container.
Carefully, she packed two generous slices of cake, then added a couple of juice boxes to the bundle. She handed it to him, watching as he balanced everything with a quiet determination that reminded her so much of his younger self.
“There,” she said, ruffling his hair lightly before he could protest. “Go eat. And don’t let Prince hog all the cake.”
Hunter gave her a small smile, one that didn’t entirely chase away the hurt but was enough to remind her he would be okay — eventually. He nodded and turned to head back upstairs, carrying the food for both of them like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Luna stood in the quiet kitchen for a moment longer, exhaling slowly.
It wasn’t perfect, but it was something.
And yet, she couldn’t ignore the deep fury in the bottom of her stomach.
She could deal with not having the Cato she had once met. Fifteen years had changed him, the Capitol had changed him.
But what she couldn’t accept — what she would never accept — was how he had let it keep him from the kids. His kids.
How he had allowed the distance, the coldness, to fester.
She had changed too. Life had reshaped her, broken her and and built her up again, but it had never stopped her from showing the kids how important they were. How fiercely loved they were.
How very dare him?
What excuse could he possibly have for letting them feel like this?
She could wrap her hands around his neck and end Cato for this.
Luna swallowed down the lump forming in her throat as she climbed the stairs, the faint creak of the wooden steps echoing in the quiet house. She adjusted her robe around her, wincing at the ache in her legs and back.
Maybe it really was time to move downstairs. It made sense — it was closer to the little ones, easier on her body, and more practical in every way. She could turn the ground-floor room into a cozy little space, bring Juno’s crib down, and let Cato have the upstairs room all to himself.
Her feet slowed as she reached the top of the stairs and caught sight of something new on the wall – a garish, heinous painting from the Capitol, the kind of ostentatious monstrosity only someone there could admire. A gift or a payment to Cato, she guessed, though she had no idea which. Either way, it was the only thing hanging there, and the sight of it filled her with a quiet sadness.
The walls downstairs were bare, too.
They’d babyproofed everything, of course, and it made sense not to have too much within grabbing distance of tiny hands or available to be knocked down. But as she thought about it now, the emptiness felt more deliberate — more sterile.
She lingered in front of the painting, her hand resting lightly on the bannister.
Once, their house had been full of life and colour, with the oldest boys’ drawings, all taped up and proudly displayed. She could still see Archie’s first little painting in her mind — a pink tree with crooked branches that he had worked so hard on. She’d hung it up herself, right there in the corridor, beaming at his joy when he saw it.
It still hurt, even now, to think of how she had to take it down — and she knew it had hurt him too.
Cato had wanted the house to be perfect; clean, polished and Capitol-approved. And so, the walls that had once been covered in the messy, vibrant, beautiful evidence of their children had been stripped bare.
And here it was now, the house he wanted. Perfect, just like he’d insisted.
His house, no one else’s – her husband had made sure of it.
Luna exhaled, making her way up the second set of stairs, hating every second of going up and the glimpse of the sword collection decorating the walls.
But she paused, completely surprised when she reached the door and found not one, or two, but all of the boys in her room.
Luna blinked, completely surprised at the sight in front of her.
Hunter was holding Dash with one hand and trying to adjust Sammy on the bed.
“But what about when mama comes?” he asked, way too loud for the time of night.
“When mama comes, she’ll have her space on the bed too,” Hunter whispered.
Sweetie threw an arm over Blue, frowning at the noise, both of them clearly ready to get back to sleep.
“But where, Hunter?” Sammy insisted, kicking his little legs in frustration, causing Lex to grunt and roll over, away from him and into the empty space she supposed was meant to fit her.
Luna leaned against the doorframe, watching them silently for a moment.
Well, where indeed? Yes, her bed was quite big, it could fit many of her kids in it, but she also had a lot of kids.
Hunter sighed, clearly trying to keep his patience.
“I’ll take the couch with Ted,” he said, as if it were the simplest solution. “And you four stay in the bed.”
“But what about Prince and Dash?” Sammy shot back, his voice rising slightly, though he quickly covered his mouth when Hunter gave him a pointed glare.
Dash whined softly against Hunter’s neck, his tiny fingers clutching at his brother’s shirt. His eyelids drooped heavily, and Luna couldn’t tell if he was losing the battle against sleep or stubbornly refusing to give in.
She looked at the other side of the bed, and Prince was standing over his brothers, as quiet as he always was, petting Blue’s hair quietly as her dear boy seemed to be the most asleep of all of his brothers. He was quite the easy sleeper, which was good. She didn’t think someone like Dash or Ted would be doing so well in that crowded of a room.
Before the whole conversation continued, she stepped into the room, clearing her throat while trying to keep herself from smiling too much.
“Well, this is a surprise,” she teased them.
“Mama!” Sammy exclaimed, already squirming to stand up, and Lex whined at being kicked!
“Sammy!”
He ignored his brother, running to her.
“Mama, we came to sleep with you!” he declared proudly, wrapping his arms around her waist.
She bit back a laugh.
“I can see that,” she said, smoothing his hair as she looked over at the rest of the boys.
Her eyes flicked over to Hunter, who was looking a bit sheepish.
“I caught Sammy trying to sneak up,” Hunter began, his voice tinged with embarrassment. “And when I tried to get him back to bed, Lex woke up, and then he dragged Blue with him. So Archie heard all the noise and said if everyone else was coming, then he was too. And… well, I woke up Ted to help me because…” his voice trailed off, his cheeks reddening. “Because I wanted to finish eating,” he muttered, avoiding her eyes.
Luna smiled a bit. Her family in a nutshell.
“So now we’re all here,” Ted chimed in from her side, already perched on the couch with a pillow in his lap, looking far too pleased with himself.
“Mama,” Dash whined.
She couldn’t help the little bit of her deeply pleased that they had even remembered to get Dash.
“I can go if there’s no space,” Prince mumbled from his spot. “It’s fine.”
Luna’s heart twisted at the sight of him, her eldest looking so unsure of his place.
She moved around the bed without hesitation, closing the space between them and cupping his face gently, she ran her thumb along his cheek and leaned in to press a kiss there.
“There’s always space,” she said simply.
Prince’s shoulders relaxed slightly, and he gave her a little nod.
Luna couldn’t help herself, wrapping her free arm around him and holding him close a moment, while she still could hold all of him so close.
“Let’s figure out how to make this work,” she decided, rubbing his back.
“I can get the chair,” Prince offered quickly, almost as if he’d been waiting for the right moment to suggest it. “From the nursery.”
She paused for a moment. Oh, yes – her nursery chair was quite comfortable, and it reclined quite a bit.
“That’s a good idea,” she agreed.
He looked very proud of himself as he straightened up.
“Hunter, come on,” he called.
Hunter rushed right after him without hesitating, and she moved around on the bed, calling Sammy with her hand.
“Come on, Sammy, you can fit on the bed fine,” she told him.
Sammy didn’t need much convincing, climbing up with a wide grin. It took some careful shuffling of the younger boys, with a few sleepy protests from Lex and Blue as they shifted positions and Archie squeezed in as Luna patiently patted Dash’s back, gently rocking him to keep him settled as she rearranged everyone.
After a bit of manoeuvring, the bed was finally set, and Luna moved to help Prince recline the nursery chair once he returned, tucking him, then Hunter and Ted into the soft, fluffy covers she brought over to them. She gave each of the older boys a quick kiss on their foreheads, whispering a quiet ‘goodnight’ to them, making sure everyone was snug and comfortable.
Finally satisfied, she returned to the bed, setting her youngest boy carefully down beside her. As she lay down, she hummed softly, her hand instinctively patting Dash’s bum when he squirmed a little, threatening to wake. A few gentle pats and a soothing few hums later, he finally settled, his breathing evening out as he relaxed.
Luna sighed, the weight of the day lifting slightly as she relaxed, surrounded by them, and closed her eyes as the room filled with the soft sounds of her boys breathing and shifting in their sleep.
Those sounds were way nicer than any other to sleep with.
Chapter 11: YEAR 15: Young people fall in love with the wrong people sometimes. (3/7)
Summary:
Cato tells Luna about the rebellion brewing. For the first time in years, she dares to hope of a better future.
Chapter Text
Luna woke up a few times throughout the night, tending to her little ones. Juni needed to be changed, and Dash insisted on using the bathroom and eating — climbing onto her with a sleepy little whine for an 'itty bitty of milk.'
She hadn’t breastfed all of the boys.
When she started taking the Capitol’s pills, she had decided to wean Sweetie. After that, Sammy, Lex, and Blue had been formula-fed from the start.
It took two full years between Blue’s birth and Dash’s for her to wean herself off the medication completely.
The pills made things easier — or at least, they made dealing with Cato and the hollow ache inside her more bearable. It numbed her out, knocked her into sleep, woke her up in the morning...
But she didn’t want her babies to have any of that in their bodies.
So… she stopped. And it had been miserable. The discomfort, the frustration — it all made her want to give in so many times. But she didn’t. She endured it for them and for herself. And in the end, it was the right choice.
By the time the house started waking with the first hints of morning, little had changed. Blue had moved at some point, curling up in the nursery chair, wrapped around Prince like a tiny, sleepy koala. Everyone else remained where they had fallen asleep, warm and content.
Their morning was peaceful — slow and easy, just the way the best mornings were. Hunter took charge of breakfast, preparing a fruit salad and making sure every piece was cut just right for Dash to eat on his own.
She had a smile on her face as she watched them — her boys, their sleepy heads bent together over bowls of fruit, their quiet voices filling the room, perfect and sweet.
It was easy to forget about everything else as she watched them.
Of course, the morning routine moved forward, as it always did. The boys left for school, the nanny took Dash to his swimming class, and the house settled into a familiar quiet she enjoyed.
But solitude never lasted long.
A delivery arrived, and Luna forced herself to focus.
The Capitol food shipment came every week, always on the same day. When the family had been smaller, deliveries had only been needed twice a month. But now — now she had a house full of growing boys, and their appetites matched their energy. They needed more. So much more.
All she had to do was sign the document, confirming she had received the supplies, and check that the list matched what was delivered. Simple.
Yet when she looked at the boxes and bags stacked in front of her — the pantry goods, the fresh produce, the frozen meats and imported treats — her stomach twisted.
Where else would she find this much food? How else would she feed them the things they loved?
The fancy fruits from other districts, the coconut water, the salty fish…
The big house with enough space that each of her boys could have a room of his own. The good clothes that lasted, some even adjustable enough to stretch out for a few more months.
Luna swallowed hard.
She could sell a sculpture every three months, and it still wouldn’t be enough.
Not for this life. Not for the comfort they had here.
No matter how much she wanted it to be otherwise, she would never be able to give them all of this on her own.
Never.
She ran her hands over her hair, frustrated as it felt endless, and pushed it back, out of her face, rubbing her hand down her eyes.
How would she…
How could she even think of doing all of this on her own?
Would anyone even look at her art if she wasn’t connected to Cato? Would her name still mean anything without his? Who would guarantee she could still sell her work if she left?
She was useless at everything else.
And even if she somehow figured out a way to survive, what promised that she would find a house good enough? Big enough for eleven people?
What promised that she could walk away with her children — all of them — and not have them ripped away from her?
Luna ran her hand down her mouth, swallowing around the knot in her throat.
“Mrs Hadley?” the cook called her attention.
Luna turned to him, a bit spooked.
“Are you alright?”
Luna swallowed down.
“Yeah,” she told him quickly. “Just…”
Just not.
“Yeah,” she lied again, forcing a small nod. “Do you have the menu for the week ready?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he passed a tablet along to her.
Luna took it but barely glanced at the screen. The words blurred together, her mind too fogged to focus. It didn’t matter anyway — he’d been cooking for their family for over a decade. He knew what he was doing.
“It looks good,” she said, handing it back without really reading it. “And… uh… will you chill the drinks we just got? I’m sure the kids will like them when they get home. The weather’s calling for something cold.”
He nodded quickly, moving on to do his work, and she was left watching him before moving on.
Luna wandered aimlessly through the house, quiet and aimless. There wasn’t much to do in times like these. Usually, when the boys were in school and classes like that, she would sculpt. She had finished her last project about six weeks before Juni was born, so she could have time with her.
Her body was still a bit tired, a bit strange.
The thought of climbing onto the scaffold, balancing twice her height above the ground, made her stomach turn.
Still, she found herself heading to her studio anyway, just to check. Maybe seeing her tools, her space, would spark something.
It didn’t.
Luna moved past the cutting machine to her workstation, pulling up her waiting list from the Office of Arts – perfectly curated in these last years, after a few too many strange requests and the kids needed more time with her, to save her time.
She stared at the list, the names and requests blurring together as she skimmed through them. It was all so predictable — so empty. Just a bunch of people who wanted to have sculptures of themselves at home, a couple of them asking for a bust of the president, another who wanted something of Cato, and many of them trying to ask for something about Finnick – as close to the true him as possible.
As if she had ever met him to know so many details, she worked with pictures and scans like any other artist.
She sighed, setting the tablet down and taking a seat.
Not even sculpting brought her any joy now.
Her hand drifted absently to her stomach, pressing lightly over the compression fabric as he moved down from her ribs and so the soft of her, her body feeling flat again – too flat. Hollow. Bony.
Juni…
She should check on her, her baby would wake up soon.
Luna pushed herself up with an exhale, already dreading the climb ahead. The stairs stretched long before her as she took them slowly — past the second floor, then the third, each step heavy.
When she finally stepped into the master bedroom, the quiet didn’t surprise her. Sometimes, she had to wake Juni for her feedings — her little girl preferred sleeping through the day, especially after staying up the night before.
But as Luna turned toward the nursery, all thought emptied from her mind.
A tall, broad figure was hovering over the crib, too large — too much — for such a delicate space.
Cato.
The sight of him stole the air from her lungs and made her heart pound. She hadn’t even heard him come home.
Luna clenched her jaw, every muscle locking tight as his hand moved — slow, deliberate. His broad frame shielded whatever he was doing, but she could see the subtle shifts of his muscles beneath his shirt, the steady, unshaken rhythm of his breath.
Her throat knotted when he reached fully into the crib and took Juni fully, adjusting her as he picked her up.
Juni was tiny, Luna couldn’t even see her in how he was holding her.
Cato could hold her head in just one hand, she remembered when Hunter was that tiny and he would adjust her boy, his fingers…
And he was even much larger now. Stronger. He got stronger every year, it was… it felt impossible, and then she would look at pictures and compare and he seemed even bigger.
Luna forced herself to breathe, her head light with the effort, as a quiet hum rumbled from him. Barely a sound.
“You don’t even greet your husband anymore?”
His voice cut through the air as he turned—slow, unhurried, not even sparing her a glance.
Juni’s tiny fingers reached up for him, minuscule in his grasp, and then — a smile.
Her first smile.
Not for her.
For him.
The ache in Luna’s chest was immediate, sharp, but Cato didn’t so much as acknowledge the expression. He only brushed a thumb over Juni’s cheek, unreadable.
Her daughter latched onto his thumb right away, instinctively sucking, her wide eyes fixed on him.
But when Juni didn’t get what she wanted — when her hunger gnawed at her little patience — she turned toward his chest instead, her tiny mouth searching, her frustration spilling into a soft, desperate whine.
Luna’s breath hitched.
Her body knew before her mind did, the cues setting off her natural instincts. Her chest ached, full, tightening with the familiar pull, and before she could think, she crossed her arms over herself to hide it.
Cato’s gaze flicked to her, unimpressed, unreadable.
She had no words.
Not while he held her daughter.
Not when he could do whatever he wanted with her baby.
Cato looked at her up and down and then at Juni again.
“She’s hungry,” he pointed out, as if she didn’t know.
Luna’s feet remained rooted to the floor, her body rigid, refusing to cross the threshold into the nursery — even though she knew she would never leave Juni alone with him.
His brows lifted slightly, his expression shifting just enough to be noticeable. Then, his eyes flickered down to their daughter again, and something passed over his face.
Annoyance.
Not at her, but at Juni.
In the way she simply did what she knew to do — just trying to eat, just trying to exist.
That was what made Luna move.
Her legs felt like brittle twigs, each step threatening to snap something deep inside her, every single one feeling like she was walking into a trap.
But Cato didn’t hand Juni over. Instead, he placed her back in the crib and remained exactly where he stood, looming over it, watching as Juniper’s cries filled the space.
“I put your chair back,” he told her.
Luna didn’t look, but she didn’t have to. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see it — the nursery chair, right where it had always been. The same chair where Prince had once dozed off with Blue curled up beside him in her room, where just hours ago, she had slept cradling her children in the safety of a house where her husband — their father — wasn't present.
Her chest ached as she tore her gaze from Cato, every instinct in her body screaming at her to pick up Juniper.
She had no choice. She bent in his presence, forced to look away from him, and lifted her daughter into her arms, leaking into her clothes with every second of the wait.
Cato watched them without a word.
Luna wanted to run — to grab Juni and bolt down the stairs, out the door, as far away from him as possible. But she didn’t. She sat, forcing herself to stay still, to keep her breathing steady as she settled into the nursery chair.
She pulled her dress down just enough, shielding herself as best as she could while Juni latched on, suckling eagerly. Luna rubbed her daughter’s tiny back, the motion meant to soothe the baby but doing more to calm herself.
Juni’s warm brown eyes locked onto hers, her small fingers pressing gently against her chest.
She was so hungry. Her poor girl.
“She looks like you,” Cato said suddenly, sounding surprised.
She looked at him, and his eyes were flickering between them – Luna and Juniper.
As if he were only noticing it now — two whole months after Juni had entered their lives, after nights watching Luna rocking her to sleep, after mornings of waking up to her caring for her girl. As if he were only now seeing the soft brown colour of her hair, the warm, chocolate-hued big eyes that mirrored hers, completely different from the boys.
Only now, seeing the very first baby who truly looked like her, he realised Luna still existed.
Did he even know Blue had her eyes too? That not all of them were blind copies of him?
But she didn’t say anything – she wouldn’t be able, even if she wanted to. Everything felt locked up from her lips and her throat.
“No ‘hello,’ no ‘welcome home, husband’…” Cato listed off, stepping closer. “Not even a smile? Really?”
Luna clenched her jaw and looked away, shielding Juni instinctively when he crouched in front of them. Her muscles coiled so tight, that her legs twitched.
“What do you even do all day, Luna?” his voice was dangerously calm. “That you can’t take a minute to go to the door and welcome your husband home?”
She swallowed hard, unable to meet his gaze.
He wasn’t supposed to be here. Not yet. He was meant to be gone for two days. Less than twenty-four hours had passed, and he was already back.
“Don’t I do enough?” Cato pressed, his warmth suffocatingly close. “Don’t I give you everything?”
He reached forward and everything in her clenched, but he just reached for Juni, caressing her little hand, the soft skin of his finger brushing against her own sternum as well.
“I gave you this beautiful, beautiful baby,” he affirmed, moving his head, forcing her to look at his own. “Your very own little copy. And the boys, you adore the boys so much, don’t you?”
Juniper ignored him, but Luna couldn’t.
“Why can’t you just be grateful?” Cato asked, his voice deceptively soft. “Is that too much to ask?”
He straightened, and her body tensed more as she tracked his every movement, ready to shield herself, to shield Juni. But he stepped away.
“I do everything,” he said, sweeping a hand through the room. “I gave you this house. Your clothes. The food you love so much. The kids’ toys. Your little sculpting toys… when have you ever had to do anything?”
Luna swallowed hard, but he wasn’t done.
“You have nannies, cleaners, a cook with an assistant, stylists…” his voice edged on disbelief. “What else could you want, Luna?”
Silence.
Then, he moved, crossing the room in a few strides, and her breath hitched.
His hand came up — not to strike her, but it landed beneath her chin, fingers pressing just enough to force her face up. To hold her still and trap her.
“What do you want?” he asked, his thumb pressing onto her chin.
But it wasn’t honest, it wasn’t kind, it wasn’t even a question. He didn’t care for an answer, he knew he couldn’t get one – they had been married for fifteen years, he knew she couldn’t answer, he knew the signs when she couldn’t speak.
And yet he loves to use those moments, when she was frozen and her words were locked in her mind and away from her lips and couldn’t speak back.
Cato stepped back, clicking his tongue, and she watched as he moved back and forth in the room, clenching and shifting his jaw before he moved back to the chair again. She inhaled deeply when he stood by her side and reached for her, touching her hair – giving it slow, mindless pets.
“I had a meeting at the Capitol,” he spoke, his voice low, almost whispery. “That’s why I left yesterday. A rather urgent one.”
She kept herself stiff, but had to look down when Juni squirmed, frustrated at finding her breast empty.
Luna barely had a second to react before his voice cut through the room, sharp.
“Shift her,” a command. Not suggestion. Not request. “Cover yourself.”
The words were spat at her. As if she were not in her own home – not on her own chair, feeding her own baby.
But Luna obeyed.
She pulled up her dress, adjusting Juni before shifting her to the other side. Her daughter latched on again, sucking hungrily.
Cato watched.
“There’s a movement brewing,” he continued, keeping his voice low. Too low. “It’s quite large. Many victors are part of it.”
The tension in the room thickened as Luna’s mind raced, but her body refused to move, every muscle tightening under his words.
She wanted to ask, to demand answers — who? Who were these “many victors”? Were they people she knew? Lyme? Enobaria? Brutus? Wade?
Those were people she trusted – some more, some less, but people whose names could have crossed Cato’s lips in an instant. But then… what about the others? Cashmere. Gloss. Finnick. Faces from the Capitol, from TV, distant, flashing in her mind. Was this some new, twisted game
Then Cato spoke again.
“Someone made me an offer,” he said, his fingers absently toying with her hair.
Luna’s throat tightened, and her head snapped up, locking eyes with him, but his glare held her back. He wasn’t done.
“Look at her,” he ordered, his lips barely moving. “Not at me.”
Her jaw clenched, the air in her lungs heavy. Her gaze returned to Juniper, her baby girl, who suckled peacefully, unaware of the storm gathering around them.
“It’s quite simple,” Cato said, his voice cold and detached. “We receive protection, and when it’s all over, you just have to spend a few days with our benefactor.”
A few days?
Luna’s mind spun — what did that even mean? What kind of trade was this? She wasn’t a Victor, she couldn’t be bought.
“All his for a week,” Cato added. “For a lifetime of freedom.”
Her pulse quickened, and her mind raced to make sense of the words. Was he talking about a rebellion?
Cato let out a tiny sound, half a scoff and half a chuckle.
“No more games, no more Capitol,” he muttered darkly, confirming her guess. “And all he is asking for is a few nights with the most desired woman in District Two.”
Luna froze.
Her throat felt dry as she processed his words.
He’d sold her for this. Her time – her body.
Juni unlatched with a soft sigh, breaking the silence. Cato moved suddenly, retreating to the other side of the room, leaning against the wall like a statue — his face blank, unreadable.
Luna carefully adjusted the baby in her arms, pressing a gentle hand to her tiny back, massaging before she began to pat. A small burp escaped, and she let out a breath, standing, shifting her weight as she rocked her daughter in her arms, uncertain what to do.
Cato’s voice cut through the silence.
“I received some congratulations on Juniper’s birth,” he said, voice full now, casual in a way that made her stomach turn. “Everyone thinks she’s a wonderful, beautiful girl.”
Luna’s head snapped up.
Who?
They hadn’t had visitors in years — not since their anniversary party five years ago. Who had seen Juni?
Cato stepped forward, closing the space between them with slow, deliberate movements. She watched, her grip instinctively tightening around her daughter.
He reached out, brushing the back of his hand over her hair in an almost mocking display of tenderness.
“And she looks so much like you,” he whispered.
Luna’s stomach twisted.
“She’ll probably be a better version, don’t you think?”
Her breath caught.
Cato’s gaze drifted down to Juni, his fingers grazing the baby’s tiny arm.
“Smarter, probably. Stronger,” his eyes lifted to hers, lips curling slightly. “With the pretty face, of course.”
Luna swallowed hard, fighting the urge to recoil, to run and tear her daughter from his reach and shield her from whatever dark, twisted interest had turned toward them.
She held her breath, waiting.
And then—
“You know, I heard…” his voice was softer now, but there was something sharp, something rancid beneath it.
Disgust.
It was the most emotion she’d heard from him in a long time.
“That some people can’t wait for her to be fifteen, sixteen… you know,” he whispered. “That perfect age. When beauty and strength balance just right.”
Luna’s blood ran cold.
“So she can volunteer. Win. Join her brothers and her father as a victor.”
He let the words settle, watching her carefully.
“So she can go to the Capitol,” he continued, voice barely above a whisper. “And enjoy everything they have to offer.”
Luna wanted to vomit.
The thought of them — of anyone — laying their hands on Juni the way they had on Cato and the other victors. The thought of her baby being paraded, sold, used. The thought of her daughter suffering things she couldn’t even bring herself to name —
Her stomach lurched.
Cato stepped even closer, lowering his head.
“Put her in her crib, Luna,” he whispered.
It felt like her back would snap if she bent, but she did anyway, her movements stiff and mechanical as she settled Juni down.
Cato reached for the spinning toy above their daughter’s crib, setting it into motion. The soft chime of the lullaby filled the room, and Juni’s gaze instantly locked onto the swirling figures, her tiny hands stretching toward them in fascination.
Luna wished she could disappear into that kind of distraction.
Instead, her husband turned to her, his hands coming up and grasping her face, his thumbs dragging slowly over her cheekbones.
She clenched her jaw, and his forehead touched hers.
“Do you know why you have to choose?” Cato whispered. “You know why I’m asking this of you, right?”
His breath was warm against her lips as Luna’s chest tightened, her vision blurring as fear crashed into her like a wave, overwhelming her whole body. Every part of her was screaming to run, to get away — to get Juni away.
“Because I know you want to protect them.” Cato’s lips brushed the corner of her mouth. “You’re their mother.”
Luna shuddered, her entire body trembling.
“You want to protect her, our little Juni.”
He pulled back slightly, just enough for her to see his face. His expression was unreadable — hard.
“There’s only so much we can do.”
Luna’s lips parted, but she couldn’t force a sound past the lump in her throat.
His grip tightened as he set his eyes right on hers, inescapable.
“We can’t let them have her,” he affirmed, and his voice was like steel – hard, cold and inescapable. “We can’t let them near her.”
Luna shook her head violently.
No.
No, they couldn’t do that.
Juni was two months old. The boys were just children.
Babies.
And there was Cato, looking at her like there was only one way out.
His grip on her face tightened.
“So what will you do?” he whispered, his thumb pressing into her skin, insistent. “You won’t risk it, right? Just one week, Loony. It’s nothing, right? For freedom. For a lifetime of safety.”
Luna swallowed hard, choking against the knot in her throat.
“You won’t let them, right?” his voice softened, almost coaxing. “It’s just a little sacrifice. We'll fatten you up a little, he'll have some pretty clothes for you to wear. It's gonna be easy, don’t you think?”
Her entire body trembled and she clenched her jaw, forcing herself to nod — to agree.
What else could she do?
Cato’s fingers trailed slowly over her cheek, his lips pressing a lingering kiss to her temple. Luna didn’t move, didn’t even blink, as he tugged her forward.
“Leave her be,” he mumbled, lips barely moving. “Come on. Let’s lay down.”
His grip was firm, guiding her as her feet stumbled to keep up. She wasn’t walking — she was being moved. Step after step, her body obeyed, though her mind felt miles away.
Then — a shadow by the door.
Her head turned almost sluggishly, her gaze catching on the nanny, frozen in place at the sight of them. The woman’s eyes flicked between them, darting from Luna to Cato and back again, lips parting as if to speak.
Cato noticed.
“She’s awake,” he said casually. “She’s just been fed. You can take the baby.”
The nanny hesitated, gaze lingering on Luna, waiting.
Cato snapped his fingers, and the girl flinched.
“Go,” he commanded, his voice turning sharp. “Don’t make me say it again.”
The nanny obeyed at last, stepping into the nursery, and lifting Juni into her arms. Luna watched, her vision blurred, her throat tight.
She moved, at last, walking to the nursery and taking Juni, carrying her away as Luna watched, her eyes blurry.
Her baby. Her only daughter.
She was a mother. She had to protect them all, no matter the cost.
Hadn’t she already endured so much — for the boys? For the last five years? For the last seven, eight years?
What was one night? One week?
Whoever their benefactor was… if he was like Cato, he wouldn’t expect much from her. Would he?
Cato tugged her forward, guiding, positioning, placing her — like he always did. He sat her down on the bed, only to push her further, easing her back against the sheets.
Luna lay still, staring at the ceiling, feeling nothing.
She wasn’t stupid, no matter how much Cato liked to believe she was. Everyone knew a rebellion was brewing. How could they not?
Another war was inevitable.
Did the Capitol really believe the districts would accept decades of punishment for something that had happened almost ninety years ago? That they would continue to suffer for daring to fight for freedom?
How much longer did they think they could stretch them before they snapped?
And if Cato was telling her this — if he was even bothering to tell her — then it wasn’t just a whisper, not just a flicker. It meant the rebellion had a real chance.
Because he would know.
If ‘many victors’ were involved, then he had known for years. He’d had fifteen years to see it, to join it.
No more games. No more fear.
She swallowed against the knot in her throat, tears slipping from the corners of her eyes. Cato pressed a kiss to her cheek, his hand sliding over her waist, wrapping around her.
His hands were so big. Or maybe she was just too small – she’d always been.
Cato loved that about her — that he could lift her whenever he wanted, sling her over his shoulder, carry her around like a doll. Bend her, and break her like a twig.
His palm moved in slow circles over her stomach, the thin fabric of her nightgown doing little to shield her from his warmth. He buried his face into her hair, inhaling deeply.
“I missed how you smell,” he whispered against her temple. “How you really smell.”
She didn’t respond.
Her eyes remained fixed on the ceiling — white, matte paint. She’d asked for it herself, stripping away the gaudy Capitol mural that once loomed over their bed.
A shift in the light made her blink. The clouds outside thinned, and the sun hit the ceiling at just the right angle — a brief, blinding glint.
Luna blinked.
A reflection? But of what?
She searched for it again. Nothing. Probably just her imagination.
Cato’s breath tickled her ear when he whispered again.
“Just imagine, Loony,” Cato whispered, tugging at her gown. The fabric slid higher, brushing over her hip, rising inch by inch. “We’ll be free.”
Free.
The word snapped something inside her.
Luna turned her head, locking eyes with him.
“No more—”
“Shh,” he whispered, his lips barely moving. “Soft.”
Soft. Because someone was listening, weren’t they? Someone was always listening.
She pressed her lips together, forcing her voice lower.
“No more games.”
“No more reaping,” Cato whispered.
No more.
His touch was light, ignorable — just as it had been for the last half a decade. Or longer. She had lost track of time.
“No more Capitol,” she mouthed.
His response was immediate.
“No more.”
Luna swallowed down, taking a deep breath.
“No more victors.”
To that, he had no answer.
His blue eyes held hers — hard. Unreadable. Then, slowly, they softened.
He bent his head, and instinct made her tilt hers away. Cato pressed his face into the curve of her neck, his breath warm against her skin.
“There will be… adjustments,” he whispered. “They’ll probably let us keep the house. We need the rooms for the boys.”
The rooms. The boys.
“But things will be different,” Cato continued, his lips grazing her collarbone. “We should start hiding the jewellery. Save it for when we need to sell it.”
It would be different.
He would be like everyone else, wouldn’t he?
They would be like everyone else.
No more Capitol.
No more watching eyes. No more power over them.
And no more power for Cato.
She could leave — take the boys, go home to Mum and Dad.
Cato would be just like anyone else. The Elite would no longer exist. The system would no longer bend to his will, no longer lift him above everyone else.
Luna could leave.
His hand nudged the strap of her gown down. His lips brushed her shoulder. His palm, warm and heavy, settled over her belly.
“We could have another baby,” Cato whispered.
Luna blinked, startled back into the moment.
Another baby?
His hand moved over her stomach in slow circles, almost… nostalgic. As if he hadn’t ignored it for years, for pregnancies he barely acknowledged.
Cato never felt Juni’s kicks. Or Dash’s. Or Blue’s. He never whispered stories to them through her skin, never pressed his ear to listen. Not like he used to for Prince. Or Hunter. Or Teddy.
“Prince was Juno’s age when we had the second one. Do you remember?”
Luna turned her head, searching his face as he looked back at her.
‘Juno’?
‘The second one’?
He wasn’t even saying their names, now.
She moved stiffly, placing her hand over his — pushing it away. Covering herself.
Cato went still.
He inhaled deeply against her skin, and she could feel the shift in his jaw, the tension in his body.
Then, he looked at her.
She saw it — the anger, the flicker of something dangerous shifting behind his eyes.
Luna knew what came next: The reminders of how much he did for her, how much he gave her. How grateful she should be. How she should be a good wife.
But she didn’t cower, she just waited.
For the words. For the actions, or whatever would come.
Cato’s gaze swept over her face, searching. His jaw clenched. His hand stilled.
Something flickered across his face, brief and unreadable.
He took his hand away, raising it tall before pulling it back, as if she showed her what he was doing – or to threaten her, she wouldn’t know. One way or another, Luna didn’t flinch.
Cato pulled away, leaving her side and leaving the bed, walking out of the room without a word and slamming the door closed.
Her heart, frozen through the past few minutes, suddenly lurched back to life. Each beat a strong thud against her ribs.
She squeezed the sheets, fingers tight, breathing through the weight pressing down on her chest. Processing.
Luna didn’t even realise that time had passed in the silence, not until the door creaked open again — softer this time.
When she turned, the nanny was standing with Blue by her side, her little boy looking into the room with big eyes.
“See?” the woman whispered gently. “Your mother is sleeping.”
But Luna didn’t let her. She sat up, adjusting her gown to cover herself and extending her hands to him, calling him closer in a grabbing motion.
Blue ran to her, big brown eyes watching her face as he climbed onto the bed, and set a single finger over his lips, like when he did when he wanted his quiet moments – when his words locked up the same way they locked up with her.
She wrapped her arms around him, holding him close as he curled into her warmth, fitting against her like he was always meant to be there, and she pressed a kiss to his forehead.
It was fine.
They were gonna be fine, she knew that now.
Chapter 12: YEAR 15: Young people fall in love with the wrong people sometimes. (4/7)
Summary:
Fuelled by hope, Luna challenges Cato and his attitude towards their family.
Chapter Text
The house was quiet – too quiet – and in any other situation, silence might have been a comfort. But not today.
Cato always brought tension with him. It weighed on the walls, settled into the floors — it was a pressure that never quite lifted until he was gone to the Capitol again.
Most often, it fell on Luna. But the kids felt it too, and if the way the older ones got way too silent the whole day was to be considered, then they were feeling everything as well.
It was a domino effect of sorts.
If something was wrong with Prince, then Hunter picked up on it, mirroring his stress. If Hunter was unsettled, then Prince grew anxious alongside him. And Teddy — always their little shadow, always trying to be part of their duo — worried the most. But because the older boys kept their troubles locked between them, he never knew exactly what was wrong.
So it just spiralled, and in the end it left half of the children stressed and the other half completely confused, and Luna was caught in the middle – because when wasn’t she stressing out?
It took her a long time to fall asleep that night, she was too unsettled.
But she was hopeful.
It was a strange mix, twisting deep in her belly as she stared at the ceiling, listening to the steady rhythm of Cato’s breathing beside her.
Hope.
She hadn’t felt hope in a long time.
After the rebellion, she could leave.
She had enough savings — seven figures, maybe even eight, after fifteen years of working and not a single day of spending it. That was enough for a house, wasn’t it? A big one. A safe one. And some cushioning for a bit. The young boys wouldn’t mind if they had to share rooms, and by the time Lex or Blue or Dash were old enough to want their own space, Prince and Hunter would be grown and out of the house – hopefully to live nearby.
And Luna could find work with… something? Well, she was young and still strong, she would find an opportunity and figure it out.
Dash and Juni could stay with her parents during the day while she worked and the older boys were at school. Mum had raised three kids alone – and Juno had the energy of three people, anyway.Two would be easy for her and Dad, now that he was retired.
They could even come live with her, she was sure they wouldn’t mind. Her parents loved the boys to bits, and and they would love to meet Juni.
And Juno still lived at home with them, perhaps she would come to live with them as well.
Would they extinguish Peacekeepers? Jupiter…
Well, he would need to find another job, but that was fine. He would be fine.
The government falling would be an improvement for all of them, she knew that.
She fell asleep with the thought of that, and sleeping hadn’t been that nice in years.
When she woke up, she was surprised to see that Cato wasn’t in bed anymore – which was strange, as she usually woke up before anyone else because of the kids, but he was nowhere to be seen.
Luna pushed her unease aside, slipping into routine. She showered, woke Juni for her feeding, settled her in the baby wrap, and made her way downstairs to start breakfast before the boys woke.
When she got to the kitchen, though, she stopped.
Cato was in the kitchen, hovering over the cook as he watched him do his work.
“I want it all served in the dining room,” he commanded.
It wasn’t just breakfast — it was a full spread. From where she stood, she could see tomatoes being sliced, avocados halved, eggs waiting to be cracked open. There were oats, fruits — though no blueberries — and one of the assistants was preparing waffles.
Cato seemed to be supervising it very quickly, and it made her very uncomfortable.
Breakfast was her routine. She made simple meals — pancakes, eggs, waffles, bacon... things the boys liked. They picked their own sides, grabbed fruit, chose their drinks. If they wanted something different, they asked.
They ate in the kitchen, there was enough space for everyone. She didn’t remember the last time they had used the dinning room – it was far too fancy for family meals, the table was enormous, they would be too separate if they sat there. It was too cold.
Cato ate alone there and let her have her little chaos in the morning with the boys, why would today be different?
Juni stirred against her chest, letting out a soft coo, and Cato turned so sharply that Luna instinctively stepped back, her hand coming up to shield her baby without thinking.
“There you are,” he said, his tone clipped, either ignoring or failing to notice her reaction. “We’re eating in the dining room today. The children are already there. You should go as well.”
She froze, staring up at him for a solid half minute. The children-
The children were awake? Over half an hour before their wake-up time?
Luna turned on her feet, her shoulders tense as she made her way to the large dinning room – made for entertaining guests, not for family moments.
And there they were, her boys, around that mostruosity of a table, looking a mixture of tired, confused, and hungry. Some were rubbing their eyes, still sleepy, others were sitting stiffly, looking tense, unsure of what to do.
Dash, way too small for the grand chair he was put on, had his head on the table, barely even reaching the surface, his little body just slumped and still deep in sleep.
“Mama,” Hunter spoke up, standing up. “What’s going on?”
Well, she was just as confused as they were.
“I… don’t know?” she mumbled, glancing back to the kitchen. “Who woke you up?”
Most of the boys got up with alarms. Lex and Blue were the only ones who needed extra attention from the nannies in the mornings, and all eight of them were usually off to school by the time Luna went up to get Dash — her baby boy liked sleeping late, and it would be a while before he joined the school routine.
Unless it was the weekend. Then everyone got to sleep those extra ninety minutes.
“The nannies,” Hunter answered, frowning deeply. “They said Dad told them to wake us up.”
Luna couldn’t help but notice how much he looked like Mum when he was confused. The resemblance was oddly comforting.
“He’s making breakfast,” she told them, then hesitated. No, that was not quite right. “Well, he’s overseeing breakfast.”
“He wants to eat with us?” Archie asked, looking surprised.
Luna looked back to him, and he was sat right between a very grumpy looking Teddy and a half-asleep Sweetie.
Wait, had Cato seated them in order of birth?
“Why aren’t we in the kitchen?” Blue asked, pouting. “We eat in the kitchen.”
Well, all of the boys looked like Cato, but before Juni, Blue was the child who resembled Luna the most. He had her eyes and, most importantly, her personality. Which included hating any sudden change of routine.
“I don’t know,” she admitted again.
“I want to go to sleep,” Lex whined.
Well, he and all of the others, cause his whine caused everyone to start whining as well.
“I wanna sit in the kitchen!” Blue protested, kicking his feet against the chair. “We eat in the kitchen.”
Luna opened her mouth to respond, but before she could get a word in, the room fell silent.
She didn’t need to turn around. She felt it.
Cato had walked in — his steps as heavy as his presence — and Luna inhaled sharply as his hand settled against her back.
“Still on your feet, darling?” he asked, his tone unnervingly natural. “Go sit.”
She swallowed, craddling Juni close, and Cato nudged her forward, moving her to the empty chair by Dash’s side and taking the one between hers and Prince, at the head of the table.
“We’re having breakfast as a family today,” he affirmed, firm. “We’ve been missing that for a long time.”
Luna bit her tongue, looking away, and her eyes met with Prince’s as he glared at Cato before she averted them again.
As a family.
They always had breakfast as a family, this here was the different thing.
A sound at the door made her turn, and she was startled to see not just the cook and his assistants, but also the nannies filling into the room.
And then they started serving them!
Luna stiffened, watching as they placed large serving dishes in the center of the table before setting down the fancy plates — the ones she hadn’t used since their last formal gathering. This wasn’t breakfast. This was a spectacle.
What the hell was Cato doing?
Their discomfort was as thick as the tension in the boys. The nannies moved stiffly, completely unease as they set plates in front of the boys like they were guests at some party. They weren’t servers, this wasn’t their job, and the fact that Cato was treating it like it was — like this was how things were supposed to be — made her stomach twist.
“For this morning,” the cook announced, standing very awkwardly near the door, with his shoulders so tense they didn't even move. “we have cottage cheese breakfast bowls, tomato and zucchini frittata, protein pancakes, scrambled eggs with spinach and basil, waffles with avocado, and a spread of fruits.”
Luna blinked.
Even the cook was uncomfortable, he was so tense his voice was coming out weird. She never made him do any of that.
“Let me take her, ma’am,” one of the nannies spoke up, getting Luna’s attention. “So you can eat.”
Luna glanced down at Juni in her wrap, feeling the warm weight of her baby girl pressed against her. Juni looked back at her with wide, curious brown eyes, blinking as Luna shifted her slightly.
Well, yes, eating with her in the wrap would be a bit difficult.
She supported Juni’s head as the nanny took her, the woman’s expression softening as she cradled the baby. She immediately cooed at her, and Juni let out a tiny, happy sound in response, making Luna smile.
At least someone was happy.
But, of course, the moment couldn’t last.
“Odysseus,” Cato called, his voice edged with impatience. “Odysseus.”
Dash didn’t even stir, fast asleep, with his his little face smushed against the table.
Cato pressed his lips together, clearly irritated.
“Will you wake him up?” he turned to Luna.
She glared back to him without a second thought. He woke him up two hours before his usual time and now she had to fix it?
But she still reached for Dash, rubbing gentle circles on his back.
“Baby,” she murmured, brushing his hair aside. “Baby, wake up. Come on, it’s breakfast time.”
Dash let out a tiny, unhappy noise, his face scrunching in protest.
Luna smiled softly, rubbing his cheek.
“It’s breakfast time,” she repeated, trying to coax him up with the idea of food. “Wake up, sweetheart. We have so much food.”
He whined again, shifting sluggishly before finally lifting his head. His eyes were puffy with sleep, and before Luna could say another word, he climbed out of his chair and into her lap, burying his face in her chest with a heavy yawn.
“Mama,” he mumbled. “I’m sleepy.”
Luna wrapped her arms around him, rubbing slow circles on his back again.
Her poor baby boy.
“I know,” she kised his temple. “But look at all this food waiting for you.”
Dash took a peek at it, still all slow, and she pulled his plate a little closer, holding him carefully.
“Doesn’t it look so yummy?”
It was just a little breakfast, they could get through this. The older boys would go to school, and she could put Dash back to bed again after.
She could feel Cato glaring at her before she even looked at him, and when she glanced at him, there was her husband, shooting daggers at her as if she was committing the worst of all crimes.
“When are you cutting his hair?” he asked suddenly.
Luna exhaled slowly, barely restraining the urge to roll her eyes.
She adjusted Dash on her chest, reaching for the small bowl of fruit placed in front of him — already cut into bite-sized pieces. She picked up a strawberry, holding it to his lips.
“He’s two,” Luna answered, at last.
The children only got their first haircut once they were weaned and ready for school. Dash wasn’t anywhere near either.
“He’ll be going to school soon,” Cato replied, stabbing a piece of avocado with his fork.
Luna looked up at him again, unimpressed.
“In two years,” she retorted. “That’s double his lifetime. We have plenty of time.”
Cato scowled, but she ignored him, focusing instead on keeping Dash comfortable, holding her baby boy close.
“Look, Dash,” she murmured, showing him the bowl. “They cut so many fruits for you. You love fruit.”
He did — her sweet, easy eater. Nothing like Blue had been before him.
“There’s blueberries,” her little pick-eater spoke up. “You should eat a blueberry!”
Dash peeked into the bowl while Luna waited, patient. He finally picked one up, squishing it between his fingers before popping it into his mouth. But the moment he bit down, his little face scrunched up, and he spat it out — right onto her clothes.
Cato scoffed, clearly annoyed — as if Dash’s taste in fruit had anything to do with him.
“It’s bad!” her baby boy protested.
“It’s not!” Blue shot back, indignant. “It’s good.”
Luna quickly slid the bowl to Blue before a full-blown argument could start.
“You can have them, honey,” she said, knowing full well Blue would defend them to the ends of the Earth.
Blue happily took the bowl, immediately picking out the blueberries, and she shifted some eggs and avocado closer to Dash.
“You love eggs,” she reminded Dash.
Well, he was alright with them — but he was still young enough to believe her when she said things like that.
Dash accepted the offer, nibbling at his food, which gave Luna the chance to start eating as well – some of the eggs with the avocado and a portion of spinach – and she eyed the other boys while they ate, the quietest they’d ever been in the mornings.
Hunter was practically inhaling his food, head down, not looking at anyone, as if he were in some kind of competition rather than sitting at breakfast with family.
To be fair, if Luna didn’t have to keep an eye on all of them, she might have done the same — eat as fast as possible just to be done with it.
Then there was Prince. The exact opposite. He wasn’t eating at all, just shifting food around on his plate, staring down at it without taking a single bite.
Luna didn’t say a word, focusing on her own food.
She could pack Prince something for class. He didn’t need to eat what Cato pushed on him.
The room was dead quiet, thick with something heavy, and every time she glanced at Cato, he looked more impatient, more irritated.
What did he want? A conversation with the boys? Some show of obedience?
He had a mouth – he could use it if he wanted to talk to them.
“I was gonna take that!” Sweetie protested suddenly, making them all look at him.
“You were late, you lost the plate!”
“Archie – Mama!” he whined. “Archie took the last waffle!”
Luna sighed.
“Take a pancake, honey. There’s plenty.”
The pancake plate had been barely touched.
“Yeah, because they taste bad,” he shot back, outraged.
Well, that didn’t surprise her.
Archie, unfazed, happily ate his waffle while Sammy huffed beside him.
“I wanted waffles too!” Sammy whined. “They never let me get waffles!”
And then, all three of them started talking at once — Archie, Sweetie and Sammy arguing in that chaotic way they always did, overlapping shouts of ‘not fair’ and ‘too slow’ and complaints she could barely make sense of.
“You can go to the cook–” she began.
More whining. They weren’t even listening.
“I am speaking,” she warned over them, voice firm. “You can go to the cook and ask for more waffles. It’s fine.”
More protests.
“But he ate the last one,” Sammy huffed. “Why do I have to—”
“Shut up, Gunner,” Cato’s voice him, sharp and final.
The table fell into instant silence. Even Archie’s fork clattered onto his plate.
“Sit down and eat your fucking pancakes,” Cato commanded.
Luna tightened her grip on Dash, heartbeat thundering against her ribs he suddenly turned to look at him, wide-eyed, suddenly woken up by the sound.
“Don’t speak to my children like that,” she snapped, her voice slicing through the silence before it had a chance to settle.
Every little pair of eyes turned to her.
Cato’s gaze locked onto hers, cold and hard, like he was daring her to back down.
She didn’t.
“Either one of you can go ask,” she said, turning to the boys. “Be polite. Tell the cook you liked the waffles and would like some more. Say please and thank you.”
Silence stretched again — then, finally, Sammy’s reply came very small.
“Yes, mama.”
She heard his chair scrape back against the floor and Cato’s jaw tensed.
“Sit down, Gunner,” he ordered.
Luna’s head snapped to him.
“That is not his name,” she bit out.
Cato’s mouth snapped shut.
She could see him thinking over her words, his nostrils flaring with a slow inhale. She didn’t wait for whatever excuse or argument he was brewing. Instead, she turned back to the boys.
“Sammy,” she said clearly, making sure he knew she was speaking to him — not Cato. “You can go.”
Sammy didn’t even glance at Cato before nodding. But instead of taking the door nearest to him — the one that would force him to walk past the two of them — he made for the one on the far side of the room. The one furthest from Cato.
“You see why those brats don’t listen to me?” Cato snapped. “You—”
“Don’t call my children brats,” Luna cut him.
His jaw ticked.
“You spoil them—”
“You don’t even know their names,” she shot back.
That shut him up.
She leaned forward slightly, seething.
“Don’t talk to me about spoiling anyone when you don’t even know them.”
Did he really think he could just waltz in, demand obedience, and they’d fall in line? That they’d see him as some kind of saint, someone to follow?
If Cato spent even five minutes in the same room as the boys from now on, it would be more than he had in years.
Why would they listen to him?
Why would they care?
Luna went back to her food. It was already cold, but she didn’t care. It was food. It needed to be eaten.
“You want more, honey?” she murmured, rubbing Dash’s back. “There’s spinach in it.”
His little mouth opened, his wide blue eyes shining as he chewed slowly. It was a new taste for him – his first spinach.
“You like it?” she asked, smiling as she stroked his little belly.
Full. Good. A full belly was a happy belly.
Dash nodded, so she gave him another bite before reaching for his sippy cup. She poured some coconut water, secured the lid, and set it in front of him.
The silence stretched in the room. A rare, precious thing.
It didn’t last.
Of fucking course, it didn’t.
Just as she lifted a forkful of eggs, avocado, and spinach to her mouth, Cato turned to Prince.
“And why aren’t you eating?”
The words weren’t even fully out of his mouth before Luna sighed, exhausted.
“Oh, shut up.”
It wasn’t meant to be said aloud. It was one of those inside thoughts. One she’d had a hundred times.
But it slipped, just before she was chewing.
She realised it a second too late, just as she looked at Prince – and saw her oldest boy staring at her, a tiny smile twitching at the corners of his mouth.
And then she looked at Cato.
Her dear husband, pink-faced, his mouth clamped shut, fingers gripping the chair like he was turning into stone – petrified by Medusa herself.
The silence that followed was thick.
One minute. Two. Three.
No one dared to speak up.
And then, Dash stirred in her lap, his tiny body shifting as he reached for his sippy cup, lips forming a little pout as he rubbed at his sleepy eyes.
Luna helped steady the cup in his hands, smoothing his soft hair, already ready to lull him back to sleep when Dash turned to Cato and his little face scrunched in a frown.
“Mama,” he mumbled, blinking drowsily, “when is the strange man leaving?”
Luna’s breath hitched as she looked down at him.
The… strange man?
“I wanna sleep,” he mumbled, resting his head back on her chest, sucking on his sippy cup.
Luna braced herself, holding Dash a little tighter, her hand smoothing over his back in slow strokes.
And then, just as expected, the explosion came.
Cato’s hand slammed against the table with a force that rattled every plate, every glass. The impact shot through the room like a thunderclap, and for a split second, she swore she heard the wood groan beneath his palm. If the table had been any weaker, it might have broken in half.
"I sacrifice every single fucking day for this family, and this is what I get?" his voice was a snarl, spit flying, rage boiling over into every word. "This is my house!"
Dash flinched hard, a tiny whimper slipping out before Luna could smother it, and she was already cupping his ears with both hands, pressing him close.
Across the table, Blue’s hands shot up to cover his own ears like she wished she could do, his small shoulders drawn up tight. Sweetie and Archie froze, their eyes locked onto their plates, holding their breath and forks like if they stayed still enough, quiet enough, they could simply disappear, and the littlest boys looked ready to curl around themselves and disappear.
Prince and Hunter didn't even move. They just stared ahead, their faces like stone, their expressions unreadable.
"The only reason you can even eat breakfast is because of me!" Cato raged on. "The clothes on your backs — because of me! Everything you have, every single thing, is because of me! And this—" his hand slammed down again, rattling the plates, and she had to hold back her own flinch. "This is how you repay me?"
He panted, chest rising and falling, his face flushed red with rage, but he said nothing more, just waiting.
Maybe for someone to beg or for an apology.
Did he think she would try to fix it?
Or maybe — maybe — he was waiting for something, anything, to mend the wound Dash's words had opened inside him.
Because why wouldn’t it hurt?
Luna swallowed hard, tightening her hold on Dash.
She would rather die than have one of her babies look at her the way they looked at him now.
And not be recognised?
Perhaps this had finally done something to him. Maybe it had cracked something inside him, forcing a flicker of conscience, the first stirring of a will to change.
Cato’s shoulders dropped, just slightly, as the silence stretched on. His eyes met hers.
Luna simply looked away. She kept her face blank, refusing to give him the satisfaction of any reaction.
Cato exhaled sharply, as if shaking himself back into control, and then straightened.
“Tonight, we’ll eat together like a normal family,” he affirmed, breathless and sharp. “And I expect better behavior from all of you by then.”
Luna wanted to scowl. What, did he include her in that too?
He shoved his chair back so hard it crashed to the floor, but he didn’t care. Didn’t look back.
Cato just walked out, leaving Luna and the boys behind.
Silence.
And then — eight little pairs of eyes turned to her.
Scared. Searching. Waiting for answers, for comfort.
For something she didn’t have.
Luna inhaled deeply, steadying Dash as he clung to her, curling into the crook of her neck, needier than ever.
“Mama,” he whined.
She pressed a kiss to his temple.
“Let me just get up, honey. I’ll put you in the wrap.”
But she didn’t move.
Her legs wouldn’t work. Her body refused. The knot in her throat only tightened, like a tourniquet around her breath.
The boys still stared, most of them wide eyed. Sammy, sad. Prince, ashamed.
“Go shower,” Luna told them all, steadying her voice. “And dress up for school.”
But they all hesitated, still staring at her. Luna clenched her jaw.
They weren’t used to this. To her being still, not reaching out first.
“The nannies will help you,” she added. “Go. Now.”
And finally, they moved.
Finally, the boys moved, all without protest or a single word – so much different from how they were when they left the kitchen when it was just them, when their routine was as It was supposed to be.
Luna wanted to call them back, to tell them it would be okay and hold and kiss each one. But her body still refused to move.
She could only sit there staring at the empty space Cato had left behind.
She closed her eyes and took a slow, deep breath.
Footsteps echoed through the house — soft but steady, each boy retreating to his room to prepare for their bath and routine.
Sammy, Lex, and Blue downstairs. The older five on the second floor.
Luna swallowed hard, forcing air into her lungs.
It would end soon, she knew.
It had to.
The rebellion was coming.
And when it did, she would tell the boys everything.
They would understand. They would forget this.
Because soon, they would be free, and they would never have to see Cato again – she would make sure of that.
The cook came into the dining room quietly, and his voice was gentle and hesitant when he spoke up.
“Mrs… Luna?”
She turned too quickly, her neck protesting with a sharp ache.
He glanced at the table — the half-eaten food, the abandoned plates. His hard work wasted.
“I’ll make sure the boys have a strong lunch for school,” he said softly. “Do you want something to eat?”
Luna swallowed, staring at him for a moment.
“No,” she forced the word out. “But thank you.”
He hesitated, but nodded, stepping away from from the room and leaving her alone once more.
Luna wanted to hide. To slip into her closet, tuck herself beneath the shelves, and disappear.
But she couldn’t. She wasn’t a girl anymore. She couldn’t run, couldn’t pretend four walls would keep her safe.
Nowhere was safe. Not with Cato still here.
She inhaled sharply, startled by the soft whimper against her chest.
Dash.
Dash was still on her chest.
Luna’s eyes dropped, her breath catching as she took him in. He was still nestled against her, fast asleep now, his tiny fingers curled tightly around the fabric of her clothes, clinging to her.
She swallowed, steadying herself, then placed a hand on his back. Slowly, she matched her breath to his, syncing with each rise and fall of his little chest, grounding herself in him.
Finally, she adjusted him in her arms and rose to her feet, moving carefully through the quiet house. The corridor of bedrooms stretched before her, each door a reminder of the boys was raising.
It would be hard to leave this house. But it would be good.
Her heart tightened as she reached the last room — the furthest one down the hall — and put Dash in his bed. His first toddler bed, worn and well-loved, passed down through three of his older brothers.
She lingered for a moment, her fingers brushing his hair, his white-blond hair growing into curls.
Could he be her curly haired boy, like those old sculptures from the past?
Luna breathed out, sat by the bed as she watched him. Such a pretty boy, her baby.
Well, Cato could do one thing right, couldn’t he? Her babies were all the most beautiful babies.
She stayed there for a long time, just watching him sleep — his little chest rising and falling in perfect rhythm, so peaceful that it held her attention longer than she expected.
The soft creak of the door broke the quiet, and Luna’s body tensed instinctively, her heart lurching as she turned. But it was only the nanny, peeking inside with a gentle expression.
"Ma’am," she murmured, keeping her voice low. "Juni is awake. I think she’s hungry."
Luna frowned, her mind catching up through the haze of exhaustion.
Already?
She exhaled, pressing a hand to her chest. Of course. Juni had been feeding so chaotically lately — no real pattern, no predictability. It didn’t surprise her at all.
"I'm going to take her," Luna breathed out. "Thank you. Can you have something light ready in case Dash wakes up too far from lunch? I think he'll sleep longer, but it's best to be sure."
"Of course," the nanny agreed without hesitation.
Luna gave her a small nod, still stiff with lingering tension, but made her way up to the last floor quietly.
Juni was in her crib, whining softly around a pacifier, waiting for her. The sight made Luna’s chest ache in response.
"Alright, alright," she sighed, scooping her up and pulling the pacifier away.
God, she hated those things. She only allowed the nannies to use them so she wouldn’t have to hear Cato’s complaints about the crying — because God forbid babies cried to express their needs.
Humming softly, Luna balanced Juni in her arms, her daughter already turning to mouth at her dress, searching. She moved to the bedroom, planning to sit in the warm morning light, but then she paused.
Through the window, she caught sight of the boys walking to the gates of Victor’s Village, a tight little group with one of the nannies.
Her heart clenched.
Luna always kissed them goodbye. She always handed them their lunches herself, whispering sweet words to send them off.
And now, they were already leaving.
She sat down, exhaling as she helped Juni, and her baby girl latched onto her breast eagerly.
"I've been starving you, haven't I?" Luna teased, brushing a hand over Juni’s soft brown hair. "A whole hour without food?"
No response, of course — Juni was just a tiny little thing, too busy drinking, her only concern in the world her next meal.
Luna smiled, adjusting her dress for comfort more comfort.
"Oh, you’re going to be just like Hunter when you get to solids, I just know it," she mused. "Your brother once tried to eat his plate."
Juni blinked up at her, big brown eyes wide and awake, as if listening.
"Yes, he did," Luna whispered, grinning. "And he didn’t even have teeth!"
It was so cute and so funny – her little foodie.
Hunter would probably love to learn more about cooking if Cato weren’t so obsessed with pressuring the boys into other things.
Well… with no more Capitol, no more Games… maybe he could. He could learn to cook, even if just for himself and their family. It would be a good hobby. The boys needed hobbies.
Luna exhaled and gazed out the window, her eyes catching on Lyme’s house.
It was nice having her as a neighbour, even if they rarely saw each other anymore — less and less as time passed. She hadn’t been home for a while. Months, maybe.
Luna chewed on her lip. If something had happened to her, there would have been an announcement, wouldn’t there? Lyme was a Victor.
She sighed, her stomach twisting at the next thought. Or maybe the Capitol had been keeping her away.
She kept her eyes on Juni as her baby ate, massaging and gently patting her little back until she let out a small burp. Then, Luna set her back into the wrap, sighing as her earlier thoughts of Victors and cooking pulled her back to reality.
Dinner.
After the disaster of breakfast, Cato wanted dinner.
Luna rubbed her eyes.
It wasn’t going to go well. She knew that. It would stress the boys out, it would stress her out, and it would probably throw off their entire routine — just like he had done in the morning.
What did he even want? Frankly.
What in the world was he trying to do?
Cato had spent the last seven years barely even looking at their kids. And now? Now he was trying to play daddy?
She sighed as she made her way down the stairs, forcing herself to focus on Juni. It was better that way — better to think about her baby, her warmth, rather than the inevitable tension ahead.
Lunch would be soon. The cook was probably already preparing it. They should discuss dinner too — at the very least, she could make sure the meal was something the boys would enjoy.
But as Luna stepped into the kitchen, she stopped short.
The cook was already deep in conversation with his assistant, a list of ingredients spread out between them. His shoulders were slightly hunched, his movements slower than usual.
Something was wrong.
“What’s going on?” she asked, adjusting Juni in the wrap, trying to keep her voice light.
The cook hesitated, glancing at her before lowering his gaze.
“Mrs Hadley,” he greeted stiffly. “We are discussing the menu Mr Hadley decided for tonight.”
Luna’s stomach twisted. Of course Cato would do this before she could even speak to the cook.
“Well?” she exhaled. “And what are we having?”
“A roasted pig, with steamed greens,” The cook’s voice was neutral, but she could hear the disappointment beneath it.
Luna clenched her jaw.
“The boys have barely ever eaten pork,” she reminded him.
And at least half of them preferred their vegetables cooked differently. Steamed greens would just be bland to them.
The cook exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. He still wouldn’t meet her eyes.
“I would have asked you first, ma’am.”
The rest of it was left unsaid
“I know,” she mumbled, her fingers tightening around the fabric of Juni’s wrap.
He cleared his throat for a moment.
“I can… make something for them later,” the cook offered quietly, finally meeting her eyes. “After Mr Hadley has retired. Something… better. Filling.”
Luna breathed out.
Yes. She could already tell — there would be many little feet sneaking into the kitchen tonight, their hunger impossible to ignore after the forced pretenses of breakfast and dinner.
“Please,” she whispered.
The cook nodded.
“We’ll keep it discreet, of course,” his eyes flicked to his assistant, a silent confirmation passing between them.
Luna rubbed Juni’s back.
“Thank you,” she mumbled.
The day felt like it stretched endlessly, each passing moment slower than the last.
Dash was awake well before lunch, his little stomach happily welcoming the fruit snack the nanny had prepared, and Luna just set herself on spending the morning with him, too drained from the morning and the perspective of dinner.
They played together, his giggles breaking through the heaviness in her chest, his tiny hands always getting her attention before her mind could drift away.
And for a while, it worked. The tension in her shoulders loosened, the loudness in her head eased.
By the time lunch arrived, it was a welcome pause — perhaps the only peaceful meal they would get that day. The house was calm, they ate in the kitchen, and it was the kind of food her baby boy enjoyed – no talks of pigs or ‘the strange man’ bothering his routine.
She almost didn’t want to set him down for his nap when the time came, even as Dash blinked up at her sleepily, his tiny fingers clutching at her dress as if he could keep himself awake just a little longer.
“Mama,” he whined softly this time, his voice thick with drowsiness.
Luna sighed, smoothing his hair back gently, her fingers tracing soothing patterns against his scalp.
"Yes, my little love?" she whispered, her heart tightening at the way he nestled closer, resisting sleep even as his body grew heavier in her arms.
Luna didn’t want to let him go, not when his warmth against her felt like the only thing grounding her. But his eyes were already fluttering closed, his breaths slowing, the weight of exhaustion pulling him under.
Still, she stayed a little longer, just watching him, stroking his hair, memorising the peaceful way he slept — because moments like these were so fleeting with kids, slipping through her fingers far too quickly.
She lingered for a moment, brushing his soft curls away from his face, tracing the gentle curve of his cheek with her thumb. His little fingers twitched in sleep, his breath warm and steady.
Just yesterday, she had been able to do this with Sammy too — carry him with one arm, feel his small weight tucked against her. But now Sammy was older, taller, growing too fast, just like his older brothers. The thought made her chest ache.
Luna exhaled, stroking Dash’s back one last time before straightening.
Such an easy little sleeper.
She rocked him slowly as she moved to his room slowly, pressing a kiss to his little temple, and set him on his bed and giving his cheek a little kiss.
The quiet was both a relief and a rare luxury as Luna stepped out of Dash’s room, making her way upstairs to check on Juni. She peeked into the nursery, finding her baby girl still sound asleep, her tiny chest rising and falling in peaceful rhythm. Luna sighed softly.
Babies needed a lot of sleep — something she was grateful for when there were nine other children to care for — but Juni would eventually grow more active, more demanding of her attention. It would be exhausting, yes, but also a delight.
Not wanting to disturb her, Luna carefully retrieved the baby monitor before slipping out of the room.
Perhaps she should head to the kitchen and help the cook prepare snacks for later. The boys would be back from school soon, in about—
Her thoughts scattered the moment she stepped into the living room.
Cato.
He was just walking inside as she came down the stairs, his broad frame unmistakable even before he turned.
Instinct told her to turn back, to retreat before he noticed her, but it was too late.
“I know you’re there,” his voice rang out, flat and unreadable as he glanced up. His cold blue eyes met hers.
Luna’s grip tightened around the baby monitor.
“Why don’t you come here, darling?”
Chapter 13: YEAR 15: Young people fall in love with the wrong people sometimes. (5/7)
Summary:
Cato retaliates Luna's defiance. Their sons finally see him fully for who he is.
(Chapter warning: Domestic violence)
Chapter Text
Cato studied her as she approached, his expression unreadable except for the lingering flush on his cheeks.
Luna couldn’t help but notice it. Why was he pink? Cato was never embarrassed — never flustered. It was unnatural, unsettling.
Still, his voice was as cold and detached as ever when he spoke again.
“I said,” Cato commanded a second time. “Come here.”
Her body obeyed before her mind could protest, her legs moving stiffly, like she was being pulled by invisible strings. Each step felt unnatural, forced.
When she finally stood before him, Cato exhaled sharply, his shoulders still tense.
“How was your day?” he asked, the question feeling more like an obligation than actual interest.
“Quiet,” Luna mumbled, keeping her voice low.
He barely reacted, nodding absently. Whatever was on his mind, it wasn’t her day.
Cato’s eyes swept over her, lingering a moment longer than necessary, as if trying to decipher something hidden in her expression.
“You won’t ask about mine?” he finally asked, his voice flat.
Luna clenched her jaw, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. No, she wasn’t going to ask.
The last thing she wanted was to know how he spent his day — though it often felt like the most reasonable scenario was that he spent it far away from her and their children, somewhere he could stay busy until he returned only to sleep.
Cato scoffed, turning away briefly, the sound a mixture of annoyance and something else.
“And the children?” he sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. “Is that the only thing you care about?”
“At school,” Luna replied.
Cato hummed, his lips curling slightly — not quite a smile, more like amusement at some private joke she wasn’t in on.
“Of course,” he spat, bitterness all over his tone. “You always send them away, don’t you? Never letting them be around me.”
Luna’s fingers twitched at her sides, but she didn’t let her expression betray her thoughts. No, she didn’t ‘send them away.’ She ensured they had a routine, structure — things they desperately needed, things they deserved. A life beyond the walls of this house and a man who had never shown any real interest in being a father.
Why should she make it easy for him?
“They’re at school,” she repeated, her voice flat. “Like every day.”
Cato clicked his tongue.
“And Odysseus?”
“Asleep.”
His gaze flickered toward the hallway, his eyes briefly considering whether to go check for himself. In the end, he simply shook his head, muttering something she couldn’t make out under his breath.
“Are you ready to explain yourself about this morning?” he questioned.
Luna fought the urge to scoff, instead turning her gaze away from him.
Her stomach twisted at his tone, and the anger she had been trying to suppress all day threatened to boil over. She forced her expression to remain neutral, but inside, the fury kept riding.
He was the one who had thrown their morning into disarray, barging in and changing everyone’s routine.
Cato had forced their children into an uncomfortable situation, demanding something that had nothing to do with their well-being, nothing to do with what they actually needed. And now, he wanted an explanation?
His face twisted.
“Mama, when’s the strange man leaving?” he mocked in a cruel, high-pitched moan.
She just stared at him.
“Strange man,” he repeated. “That’s what my own child called me.”
Luna’s fingers curled into fists at her sides.
He said it like he was the victim. As if it wasn’t his own absence, his own indifference, that had turned him into a stranger to them.
“Children are brutally honest, don’t you know?” she asked back. “They say things as they are.”
Dash didn’t know who he was, simple and plain.
Luna could not recall a single moment in the past two and a half years when Cato had so much as looked at their son, let alone spent time with him. And now, he wanted to be outraged? Now, he wanted to claim fatherhood like it was something he had earned?
“I’m his father,” he hissed, leaning close to her, his breath thick with the smell of alcohol.
Luna didn’t care to give him even a look. Well, was this all?
But before she even thought of stepping away, Cato grabbed her face.
“I am his father,” he seethed,/ again his hold tightening as if he could force the truth of it into existence. “Do you hear me?”
Luna’s lips curled in anger, her voice sharp as a blade.
“I wonder why he doesn’t know,” she bit back.
Cato stared into her face, his eyes filled with fury.
“This is your fault,” he snapped, his fingers digging into her skin like he could mould her into submission. “You did this!”
Cato’s face darkened, his eyes narrowing into something dangerous, but Luna didn’t care.
He wanted to blame her? Fine. But she wasn’t going to stand here and let him rewrite history.
“No,” she bit back, her voice a snap of fury. “You did this.”
He had the audacity to act like a victim as if she hadn’t been the only one trying to hold this family together this whole time, trying to protect the children from his indifference, trying to make something out of the wreckage he left behind every time he walked in and out that door.
“You don’t even know your children’s names,” she spat. “You can’t even tell them apart, and you have the nerve to call yourself their father?”
His grip loosened, and then he shoved her away, as if the truth was something he could physically reject.
“Shut up,” he hissed, turning his eyes from her, but Luna refused to let him escape that easily.
No, she wouldn’t shut up. He wanted to bring this up? Then they were going to talk about it!
“Dash doesn’t know you because you’re never around!” she stepped closer to him, refusing to back down. “The younger boys only recognise you because they see you in the house, but do you know when they actually realised you were their father? When they started school. School, Cato! Because that’s how absent you’ve been for the past five years!”
Honestly, maybe even longer.
His nostrils flared, his entire body tensing like a coiled spring.
She had spent years swallowing her words, letting them rot inside her, all for the sake of keeping the peace — for the children, for herself. But there was no peace. There never had been.
“And the ones who do know you? They hate you.”
Cato’s head snapped toward her so fast she almost expected to hear something crack. His eyes burned with fury, but Luna didn’t stop.
“They can’t wait to leave you,” she threw at him, her voice sharp as a blade. “To be free.”
Cato's face twisted more in anger.
“Shut up!” he roared, his face red with rage.
“No!” she shot back, just as loud, just as furious.
He wanted to pretend? To stomp around this house and demand love, respect, and loyalty from children he had abandoned in every way that mattered?
“You walk around here forcing them to act like you’re the best father in the world, but you haven’t been a father in years!”
Her chest heaved, her hands clenched into fists at her sides.
And for the first time in a long time, Cato had nothing to say.
He was frozen in his spot, panting, looking completely lost and stuck, like that had never crossed his mind.
Cato opened his mouth, maybe to argue, but there were no words.
How, she didn’t know. He wasn’t blind, he wasn’t stupid.
He was just cruel.
Luna let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head.
“You talked and talked and talked about how you never wanted to be like your father.”
Cato flinched.
“For years,” she continued, voice dripping with satisfaction. “For over a decade, I had to listen to that. Over and over again.”
She stepped closer, her eyes locked onto his.
“And guess what, Cato?” she whispered, the words leaving her lips making even shoulders light, because they'd been in her mind for so, so long. “You turned into him. You are exactly like him!”
Cato’s face darkened, his lips pressing into a thin line.
“Shut up,” he mumbled again, but there was no power in it. No conviction.
Luna wasn’t finished.
“A violent man with an empty life and an empty heart,” she spat, her voice rising, a cruel smile growing on her face. “Unloved even by his own child!”
His jaw tightened.
“But at least he only had you — just one son to hate him,” she let out a sharp, humourless laugh. “I cannot imagine being so horrible that you are hated by eight of your own children.”
Cato’s nostrils flared, his hands curling into fists at his sides.
“And the ones who don’t?” Luna continued, stepping forward, refusing to let him look away. “The only ones who don’t detest you are either too young to understand what a terrible human being you’ve become…”
Her voice dropped to a whisper, but the words were still as sharp, her eyes right on his.
“Or they don’t even recognise you.”
She didn’t see him moving, but she felt it.
Cato’s knuckles came right to the side of her face, a white-hot pain exploding through her skull. The impact sent her stumbling back, the world tilting as a sharp, high-pitched ringing filled her right ear.
Luna barely had time to process what had happened before his voice shattered the haze.
“I told you to shut up!” he roared.
He didn’t let her go. Instead, he grabbed her, shoving her back — each push another blow.
“You think you’re so good, don’t you?” he seethed. “Righteous little Luna, playing perfect Mama in my house because she’s good for nothing else!”
She lifted a hand, trying to push him away or put distance between them, but he pushed it away like it was nothing, and the next shove sent her crashing against a wall, knocking the breath from her lungs.
His fingers clamped around her chin, forcing her eyes to his. He was all she could see — his twisted sneer, his burning eyes, the stench of alcohol burning into her nose.
Everything hurt. She couldn’t even tell where he had hit her, it was everywhere, a loud, searing ache radiating through her face, her skull, her ribs.
“Stupid little Luna,” he sneered. “With her perfect mommy and daddy. You’d still be living under their wing if I hadn’t given you something more!”
She gasped as her back slammed into the wall again. And again. The impact sent another wave of pain through her, but she refused to let even a single sound out.
His spit landed on her cheek and she turned away, disgust twisting her stomach, but Cato’s grip snapped her head back toward him.
“And how did she earn it?” he hissed, his fingers digging into her cheek like claws.
Something struck her mouth — she didn’t know if it was his hand, his knuckles, or just the force of her own jaw clenching too hard — but the tang of blood filled her tongue.
“By spreading her legs!” Cato spat, his voice dripping with poison. “Every day, taking me into that tiny little flat, looking all pretty at me while begging for it.”
There it was. That venomous, ugly truth rotting inside him, spilling from his lips like bile.
She was a teenager in love, that was all. She loved him.
And all this time, this was what she had bound herself to. This was the position she had put herself in.
Even now, breathless and reeling from the pain, she couldn’t hold her tongue.
“You moved in with me,” Luna reminded him, her voice raw. “In the house I paid with my work. Ate my food. Slept in my bed. Wore clothes I bought for you. Begged for shelter because you had nothing!”
Cato slammed her against the wall again, the impact sending fresh waves of pain through her skull and neck.
“You-” he growled.
She spat on him.
It wasn’t as strong as she wanted, not as dramatic, but it landed — right on his face. Even through the blur of her vision, she saw the smear of blood on his chin.
Cato yanked her by the arm, his grip like a vice, twisting until pain shot through her shoulder. Then, with a brutal force, he threw her to the floor.
From then on, Luna only knew pain. On her hips, her back, her stomach, her chest, her head.
Whether it was from his fists or his boots, she didn’t know. She was too dizzy, too disoriented, her body trapped in a cycle of agony that felt endless.
And then he stopped.
The ringing in her ears drowned out everything else, but she could see it. The way he stiffened, the way his breath hitched.
He wasn’t looking at her anymore.
Luna turned her head, every movement a struggle, and saw them. Her boys. A blurry group, but her boys.
They stood in the doorway, frozen.
It gave her just enough time to roll onto her back, each breath cutting through her lungs like razors, her body screaming in protest.
Someone started crying, but she didn’t know who it was.
Then, suddenly, everyone moved, and when she looked at Cato again, he was running — out of the living room, through the kitchen.
Maybe out the back door.
“Mama!” the boys exclaimed.
Luna tried to sit up, but her body refused.
Pain spread through her arm the moment she put weight on it, sharp and unrelenting, and she fell again. Her limbs felt heavy, her head was still spinning, and all she could do was stay there — collapsed on the floor, trying to steady her breath.
The boys.
They were home.
She could hear them — soft, broken cries, more than one voice trembling with fear.
She had to get up. She had to calm them down.
But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t move.
It was Prince and Hunter who came to her side, their hands reaching for hers as they helped her sit up. The effort was exhausting, her muscles protested with every movement. She closed her eyes, swallowing a groan as she tried to steady herself.
“Mama, are you okay?” Prince’s voice trembled with worry.
“I’m okay,” she lied, groaning. “It’s okay, I’m okay.”
The boys swarmed her, all of them, their faces a mixture of tears and fear. She could feel the weight of their panic, and it made her chest tighten.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” she whispered, trying to soothe them.
Archie and Sweetie were the first to wrap their arms around her, burying their faces into her chest. Luna fought not to flinch from the pain as she reached out for Blue and Lex, both of them standing off to the side, looking confused and scared.
“It’s alright,” Luna insisted, her voice trembling just a little. “I’m alright.”
Blue’s eyes searched her face, wide with worry.
“Mama, you’re hurt!”
Luna swallowed hard, trying to ignore the burn in her throat as she looked around. Teddy was holding Sammy close, the younger boy’s face buried in his older brother’s chest. They were all still too young to understand what was happening.
They’d shield them? The little ones?
“Mama just had an accident,” she lied, trying to keep her voice light, even as the words tasted bitter on her tongue. “I’m just so clumsy.”
Blue didn’t look convinced. His little face was twisted in worry, his small hands clenched tightly into fists as if he could fight away the fear. It was Sweetie who broke the silence, his voice trembling with confusion and concern.
“You didn’t!” he protested, his eyes wide. “Mama!”
Luna’s heart squeezed painfully, but she had no choice – if they hadn’t seen what had happened, she wouldn’t be the one to tell them. The nannies were standing in the doorway, looking unsettled, their faces pale. Luna forced herself to meet their eyes, willing them to understand her unspoken plea.
“There they are, the nannies,” she said, her voice trembling. “Why don’t some of you go with them? I’ll... I’ll talk to your older brothers.”
Blue’s gaze never wavered from her face, his confusion only deepening as he tried to understand what was going on. He was too young to make sense of it all, but Luna could feel his worry pressing against her, and it broke her heart.
“Go, honey,” she said, her voice soft but insistent as she gently cupped his face. “I’ll see you in a minute. Please? You and Lex? And… and Sammy?”
She needed to disperse them, to get them to a safe place where they wouldn’t see her breaking. She needed to make sure they were distracted, safe, out of the chaos. They couldn’t stay here, not like this.
“Come on, Sammy,” Teddy mumbled, his voice low and steady, as if trying to soothe the raw edge of fear that had taken root in his younger brother. “You heard mama.”
Sammy resisted, his small body twisting, trying to turn and catch another glimpse of Luna. But Teddy wasn’t having it. He kept him firmly in place, his grip strong but gentle, guiding him away.
“Come on,” Teddy urged, his voice now more insistent, his hands steady as he led him out of the room. “Let’s go.”
The nannies were already rounding up the younger boys, moving swiftly, and quiet as funeral. Blue, Lex, and Sammy were scooped up in their arms, and Luna felt her heart crack a little more with each soft cry or confused glance her children gave her.
She turned her attention back to Archie and Sweetie, trying to coax them out of her arms, kissing their temples gently, trying to hold herself together for them. Prince and Hunter stood by her sides, staring at her with wide eyes, their confusion obvious, their own questions too heavy for boys so young.
“I’m alright,” Luna lid, her voice strained, but she forced herself to smile, to sound calm for them, even though everything inside her was everything but. “I’m okay. There’s no need to be scared.”
But Hunter’s voice cracked, sharp with fear, his words more of a plea than a question.
“Why did he do that?” he asked. “Mama, what happened?”
Prince’s voice followed, bitter and raw, his face twisted with something Luna couldn’t quite name but recognized all too well.
“Why does he do anything, Hunter?” Prince snapped, the words full of anger. “Why is Dad the way he is? He’s cruel.”
Luna’s heart clenched at the truth of it, but she couldn’t answer him. Not now. Not like this. Instead, she reached for his hand, trying to offer the comfort she couldn’t fully give, kissing his palm.
“I’m okay.”
Prince shook his head, disbelief in his eyes.
“You’re all hurt!” he exclaimed, his voice trembling with shock and helplessness, and he looked so young and grown all at once.
His small hand reached for her face, but it hovered there, unsure, almost as if he were afraid to cause more pain, to make things worse.
“Did he ever do that?” Prince mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. “Did he hurt you before?”
The question was simple, but the pain in it made her chest tighten.
How could she explain to him the years of hurt, the years of cruelty disguised as love, the constant emotional and physical wounds that had scarred her over and over again?
Luna’s heart shattered for him as she reached for him, pulling him into her arms as best she could, despite the aches and the pain. She kissed his cheek softly, her lips trembling, and tried to force her voice to stay steady.
“I’m sorry, honey,” she whispered, her voice low and thick with emotion. “I’m so sorry you kids had to see this.”
How could she tell him the truth? How could she explain that everything Cato had done to her, every word, every action, had been meant to hurt her? To break her down bit by bit? To make her feel small, worthless, and helpless?
She pressed a kiss to his forehead, holding him close.
Hunter’s voice was small when he spoke, but the feelings in it were clear.
“We didn’t let the boys see it,” he told her, his eyes searching hers for reassurance. “Blue and Lex and Sammy, we put ourselves in front of them.”
Luna’s heart ached with pride as she turned to her second-born, her brave boy. Her fingers trembled as she reached to caress his blonde hair, and she struggled to keep the tears from spilling and her eyes blurred.
“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice faltering as she fought to keep it steady. “You’re wonderful older brothers.”
The warmth of his presence, his words, eased the tightness in her chest, and she rubbed his shoulders gently, grounding herself with the feeling of the four boys wrapped around her.
Luna closed her eyes. Her sons were strong. They had protected each other, protected the younger ones, just as she had tried to protect them all these years.
Archie’s sniffle broke the stillness, and he pulled away from her chest, his wide eyes brimming with fear as his lips trembled.
“We need to get the first aid!” he suddenly seemed to realise, his voice filled with urgency as he looked up at her.
“It’s alright, honey,” Luna tried to assure him, but her words barely managed to settle over the rising panic in his eyes.
But Archie shook his head, his resolve hardening as he tugged Sweetie away from her.
“We need to find the kit,” he insisted, his small hands pulling him along with him. “Come on, come on!”
Luna watched them go, her heart swelling with a mixture of pride and sadness. It was always them, always her children stepping up when they were needed. She was left with Hunter and Prince now, her oldest boys, their quiet gaze meeting each other’s as though they shared a silent conversation that Luna wasn’t part of. Finally, Prince spoke.
“Where does it hurt?” he asked, his voice steady, but his eyes still filled with fear.
Luna swallowed hard, her chest tightening. They were children, they shouldn’t be the ones worried about her. She was their mother, she was meant to protect and support them, not the reverse.
“Honey…”
“Mama, where does it hurt?” Prince’s insisted, his voice trembling. “Please, let us help.”
Luna closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and tried to focus on the parts of her body that screamed the loudest. She wasn’t good at separating the pain; it was like one constant throb running through her entire body.
“My arm,” she murmured first, realising where Cato had twisted it earlier. “And some spots on my back and hip…”
The memory of Cato’s vicious kick sliced through her mind, a fresh wave of pain flooding her chest.
“And my face,” she added, her voice softer now, trembling at the admission. “My… cheek and…”
She couldn’t finish the thought. It was too much. Her entire face felt like it was swelling and bruised.
Hunter’s eyes darkened as he studied her face, his lips pressing into a thin line.
“He cut your eyebrow,” Hunter told her, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes were filled with a simmering anger that Luna couldn’t ignore. “And… your cheek is bruised.”
Luna nodded, her hand instinctively reaching up to touch her face, but the pain made her wince.
Just then, the boys returned with Teddy leading the group.
“I told Sammy it was an accident,” Teddy said, his voice shaky. “I don’t… I don’t think he’ll be alright when he sees you, though.”
Luna’s heart clenched as she looked at him, willing herself not to cry.
Eleven.
Teddy was eleven.
No eleven-year-old should have to carry this much weight. No child should have to look at their mother with such a heavy heart.
Still, he came right to her with the younger boys.
Teddy didn’t falter, though. He stepped toward her, his brothers close behind. He took the first aid kit and started opening it, the younger boys trying to help, their hands small and eager to do anything they could to make her feel better.
"Okay, let’s just be diligent, okay?" Teddy instructed, his voice steady despite the anxiety that lingered on his face.
Luna closed her eyes for a moment as the process began.
She barely noticed the passage of time as they worked on her — five boys, each with their own way of helping. They cleaned her face gently, each of them taking turns with band-aids, applying bruise cream to her swollen cheek, and making sure her hair was out of the way so they could have full access to the damage.
One by one, they kissed her wounds, like it would make them disappear. First, Prince kissed the covered eyebrow cut. Then Hunter, Sweetie, Archie, and even Teddy, all placing their warm lips on her forehead or cheeks or near her bruised eyes as though each kiss could somehow make the pain disappear like she did when they got hurt.
Luna held her breath, trying not to let herself cry with them.
She tried not to wince too much where it hurt – Hunter had accidentally squeezed her arm before putting the cream on it, he was quite the strong boy; she didn’t want him to feel guilty for hurting her.
Her back was a different story. It was harder to check, and Luna didn’t want to expose her boys to that. They’d already seen too much.
The bruises from Cato’s kicks were sharp, burning with a pain she hadn’t realised was so deep until now. She swallowed down the pain, not wanting to burden them, she could handle it until she was alone. She had painkillers in the house, and once they were all settled, she would take one to ease the worst of it.
And then the mirror.
Looking into it was almost worse than feeling the pain itself.
The reflection that stared back at her was someone she hardly recognised. Her face was swollen, the left side a bruised mess, with cuts and discolouration splattered across her skin. Her eyebrow had f blood still clinging to it and looked like it had been torn in the middle. Her cheeks were red and blue, and her lip, swollen and cracked, made her want to turn away. She looked… terrible. Like she had been through a war she couldn’t win.
She stood there for a moment, staring at herself, her hands shaking as she reached up to touch her face.
No wonder the nannies looked so scared. Luna could see the fear in their eyes, the way they flinched when they looked at her that moment, like they were afraid it was gonna happen to them as well.
But it wasn’t the fear in their faces that made her feel the burn of rage crawl up her spine. It wasn’t their helplessness that made her want to scream.
It was the thought of Cato.
The anger roared louder, pounding in her ears, mixing with the pain and making everything feel unbearable, but she just took in a deep breath, trying to keep herself calm.
The children were already scared, already lost in their own confusion and fear, they didn’t need more.
It took some time for the boys to disperse, to give her the space she needed, but even then, it felt like the weight of their eyes was still on her. They didn’t ask questions, not after Hunter’s blunt one. They all knew, didn’t they? What kind of questions could they ask when the truth was so evident.
Prince and Hunter, and maybe even Teddy to some extent, knew the cruel depths of Cato’s violence. They’d seen it before, had felt it in their own way.
But Archie and Sweetie? They were too young for anything but black-and-white thinking. Luna couldn’t help but feel a flicker of relief that they now saw their father for what he truly was — a monster. It was one small blessing amidst all the pain, at least they wouldn’t have any false illusions about the man who’d been their father.
But then there were the younger ones.
Sammy and Lex… they were too young to fully understand what was happening, and they were clearly confused about it all. Blue, her sweet Blue, was the most affected — absolutely anxious when he left her, not knowing what had happened.
And Dash…
Luna’s heart ached at the thought of him. Dash had gone to bed for his nap with nothing but safety in his world. And now, he’d wake up to see his mother’s face bruised and swollen, a sight so jarring and foreign to him.
She couldn’t even begin to imagine how he would take it. One of the older boys would have to talk to him, to weave something that made some sense to him, and he was so small Luna didn’t even know if he would really understand it.
And Juni… well, she was sure picking up Juni would be quite the task when her baby girl woke up.
She went up to her bedroom in the slowest of steps, every muscle aching as she made the way, and the nanny caring for Juni gave her the pitiest of looks.
“Do you want help ma’am?” she offered, looking up and down at her. “With anything?”
Luna took in a deep breath.
“Some privacy, please,” she asked. “For a bit?”
The nanny nodded, gathering Juni in her arms. Luna reached out briefly, brushing her fingers over her baby’s soft hair before the woman left, closing the door behind her.
For the first time in her life, Luna locked her bedroom door. She didn’t want to risk one of the boys walking in. Not now. Not when she was finally letting herself unravel.
She stripped off her clothes, pulling the first-aid kit from its place in her closet. The mirrors loomed in front of her and behind her, and she forced herself to look.
A bruise, deep, ugly, black and blue, stretched across her hip and back, the exact size of Cato’s boot.
She didn’t even know that could be possible.
For a moment, she just stared.
Then, with gritted teeth, she reached for the Capitol-issued bruise cream, spreading it over the swollen skin. The cold touch of it sent a shiver up her spine, but she hoped that it would work. That by morning, the worst of the swelling would go down. That the pain would dull just enough for her to keep moving.
Because she had no choice but to keep moving.
Her lips curled in disgust.
He could have just died.
Fifteen years ago, in the Games, Cato could have died.
Yes, she would have cried. She would have mourned him, missed him. She would have raised Prince alone, with her parents’ help — probably lived with them for years, until she felt strong enough to build a life for just the two of them. It would have been painful. It would have been unfair.
But she would have survived.
Cato would be just a dead boy, a lost love stolen from her before they had the chance to begin. And it would have been easier.
Because she wouldn’t be here.
Luna sank into the nearest chair, her breath unsteady.
But then came the worst thought of all.
If Cato had died, she wouldn’t be here. But neither would the boys. Neither would Juni.
The realisation hit like a punch to the gut.
She wouldn’t have spent years walking on eggshells, wouldn’t have flinched at the sound of his voice for the last seven years.
But she also wouldn’t have Hunter, with his gentle heart and passion for food. She wouldn’t have Teddy, eager to impress, always watching, always thinking.
She wouldn’t have Archie, Sweetie, Blue, Lex, Sammy, Dash, or Juni.
Her babies. Her world. The reason she still breathed despite the pain in her ribs.
If Cato had died, she would have grieved a love lost.
But she never would have known this love, the greatest love she had ever been given.
What a cruel twist.
She dressed herself quietly and unlocked the door, opening it a little bit before moving back to her bed, and adjusted her pillows to try to be comfortable as she lay down, not knowing what else to do.
It hurt. Everything hurt.
She needed to lay down.
And if she cried, just a little, in the privacy of her room where no one could see, she made sure to be quiet about it.
When Luna woke, Sammy, Lex, and Blue were curled up in her bed, tangled together in sleep, their little bodies warming her up.
Her back ached less, and her face felt... different. The bruise cream had likely worked overnight, dulling the worst of it. She exhaled softly, the movement stirring Lex awake. His big blue eyes met hers immediately, filled with concern far too deep for someone his age.
Luna mustered a small smile, and he wriggled free from the tangle of limbs and carefully scooted closer, settling onto her chest as though seeking comfort in her heartbeat.
“Mama, did Daddy hurt you again?” he asked.
Luna inhaled sharply. Again.
She hesitated. The lie was right there on the tip of her tongue, waiting. But Lex was watching her, his little face so serious, so patient.
Did he know that the first it had happened, he was just in her belly? When Cato crossed that line, when she lost all hope for their future together?
“Yeah,” she whispered. “He did.”
His expression crumpled, sadness weighing down his small features.
“But I’m not letting him do that again,” she said, brushing his soft hair back and cupping his cheek. “Soon, it’ll be just us. Me, you, your brothers, and your sister. We’ll never have to see Daddy again.”
She didn’t know how yet, but she would make it happen.
“When?” he asked, his voice so small.
Luna swallowed hard. She didn’t have an answer.
“Soon,” she promised anyway. “We just have to wait patiently, okay?”
Lex studied her for a long moment, his tiny fingers curling into the fabric of her dress like he was holding onto her promise itself.
“And we’ll never have to see him again?” he whispered.
“Never.”
His grip tightened, but his eyes remained uncertain, worry still lingering in their depths. He wanted to believe her. Needed to believe her. But he had seen too much, knew too much for a child his age.
Luna pressed a kiss to his temple, letting her lips linger there as if she could transfer her strength to him.
“I promise, baby.”
He sighed, snuggling closer, but she could still feel the tension in his little body. He wanted to believe her — needed to — but he had seen too much, knew too much for a child his age.
She hated that.
She hated that any of them had to know what they knew.
Luna wrapped her arms around him, adjusting him and ignoring the dull throb in her hip so he could fit against her comfortably.
They stayed like that for a while, wrapped in the quiet comfort of each other’s presence. But then Luna caught a movement by the door. Prince peeked inside, his expression cautious, and she shifted Lex just enough to sit up properly.
“You’re looking better,” he exhaled, the relief evident in his voice. “Do you still hurt?”
Luna smiled softly, and called him with a hand, patting the space on the bed by her side.
“Thank you, baby,” she told him right away as he sat down.
Prince’s shoulders relaxed, but his face still held tension.
“I’m sorry we weren’t home sooner,” he said. “And that we couldn’t stop him.”
Luna’s smile faded. Stop him?
“Baby,” she said gently, keeping her voice low so the younger boys wouldn’t stir. “Your father is three times my weight. He’s a killing machine — you know that. Even five of you wouldn’t be enough to stop him.”
“But still—” Prince started, frustration creeping into his voice.
“No,” she cut him off, firm but not unkind. “Prince, you’re fourteen. You shouldn’t have to think about stopping him. You shouldn’t need to stop him. He shouldn’t have done what he did in the first place.”
Prince dropped his gaze, embarrassed, guilt settling in his features.
Luna softened again.
“Has he shown up?” she asked.
He shook his head.
“No.”
“Good,” she breathed. “Maybe some car will run him over in the street, and we won’t have to deal with him anymore.”
The thought was fleeting, just a bitter hope whispered into the room. But God, she couldn’t imagine what it would be like when he did come back.
Prince smirked a little at her words, amused despite everything. Luna leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek — but the moment he flinched, she pulled back, frowning.
“What’s wrong?”
He immediately leaned away.
“Nothing,” he said, too quickly.
Luna narrowed her eyes. Well, that was a lie.
She shifted, careful not to wake the younger boys, taking a closer look. Prince’s face was already pink with embarrassment, but now she saw it — really saw it. A fading bruise on his upper cheek. A cut on his eyebrow, barely hidden under a band-aid.
Her stomach turned.
“It’s just a bruise, Mama,” he mumbled.
“From going to school?” she pressed.
Did he think she was born yesterday?
Prince looked away, his jaw tightening.
“What happened?” she insisted.
She waited, watching as he shifted uncomfortably, his fingers curling into the blanket. He wouldn’t meet her gaze, but she didn’t back down.
“We… I…” He hesitated, swallowing hard. “Mama…”
“If you don’t talk, I’ll ask Hunter,” she warned. “And you know your brother will tell me.”
Prince let out a sharp sigh, clearly frustrated, and dropped his shoulders in defeat.
“Look, we were competing,” he mumbled.
Luna straightened, her expression sharpening.
Prince avoided her gaze entirely now, staring at the floor like it might save him.
“Dad wanted us to prove which one of us should train with the older teens for the Games,” he admitted. “Brutus supervised it.”
She tightened her jaw.
“Which one of you,” she repeated, flat. “And that means?”
It was one thing for Cato to ignore the kids—he did that nearly every day. At best, he acted like they didn’t exist. At worst, he was outright antagonistic toward them.
But now?
Now, he was pitting them against each other?
“I sparred with Hunter,” Prince mumbled.
Luna took in a deep breath before standing up, straightening herself as she felt the blood rushing through her ears, her stomach burning once more.
That was it.
That was fucking it.
“Mum,” Prince murmured hesitantly.
“Go,” she said, her fists clenching at her sides.
Prince shot up from the bed immediately.
“Mama—” he tried again, his voice uncertain.
“Go,” she repeated, sharper this time, her glare cutting through him.
Didn’t he understand?
“Get your brothers ready for dinner,” she commanded. “I’ll be down soon.”
Chapter 14: YEAR 15: Young people fall in love with the wrong people sometimes. (6/7)
Summary:
Luna makes a final decision that will change the whole family. Meanwhile, something bigger happens in Panem.
Chapter Warning: Violence and character death.
Chapter Text
She kicked the pig’s head the moment the cook severed it from the body.
It wasn’t planned — just instinct. Pure, burning anger.
Luna had asked him to cut the meat for the children, she would not let someone bring a fucking whole roasted pig into her house and if Cato wanted to fight her on that, then she was ready to fight back with anything she could find in the kitchen.
But he didn’t return to the house that day, thankfully. Or at night.
The staff kept watch at the gates. Everyone was on edge.
So, yeah. She kicked the pig’s head. She stomped on it with her ridiculous Capitol boots until something cracked beneath her heel and until she couldn’t even tell what she was crushing anymore.
And if anyone — the cook, the assistant, or whatever nanny happened to see her in the backyard — found it strange, no one said a word.
She looked a little better by the evening. The bruises on her face had faded to a dull yellow, no longer as stark or frightening, but her arm still ached — a deep, persistent pain that made lifting it nearly impossible.
At least it wasn’t her dominant side.
Luna still had her hair all over her face when she straightened up and used her free hand to push it back.
It was too long now, cascading down to her hips, wavy with something Ellyn made someone put in it to make it prettier.
She missed her short hair. Luna had always kept it just long enough to pin or tie up however she pleased, but never so long that it became a nuisance when left loose.
Then she married Cato, and year after year, they let it grow longer and longer. Until now — until it was this heavy, unmanageable thing that tangled around her arms, inconvenient, and made her feel like she was carrying something that wasn’t even hers anymore.
She stepped into the house with sweat dampening her temples. The boys were already gathering in the living room, their chatter filling the space. Prince had Dash in his arms, bouncing him lightly, playing with him and taking giggles to his littlest brother.
Luna was so distracted by the sight that she jolted when someone suddenly appeared beside her, by the door. She flinched instinctively, her breath catching — until she realised it was just Hunter.
“Honey,” she exhaled, feeling her heart thundering in her chest, trying to cover up her reaction.
Oh, her sweet boy. He looked up at her with the saddest eyes, his worry etched all over his young face.
Luna leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, her fingers grazing his chin with the hand she could still move freely.
“I got distracted,” she said quickly. “I’m sorry.”
Hunter’s light brows furrowed.
“Are you okay? Prince said you were feeling better.”
Luna nodded, inhaling deeply.
“Just some arm pain. I think it’s the joint.”
His eyes dropped to her arm, his hand hesitating mid-air as if debating whether to touch it. Before he could, Luna gently lifted his chin so he would look at her again.
“It’s fine,” she reassured him, offering a small smile. “I just can’t pick you up for a few days.”
That finally drew a giggle from him.
“Mama, I can pick you up,” he said, grinning. “You’re tiny!”
Luna smiled, the warmth spreading through her chest at the sound of his laughter.
“Oh, is that so?” she teased, raising an eyebrow. “You think you’re strong enough to carry your mother now?”
Hunter grinned, standing a little taller, all proud.
“I know I am.”
She chuckled, pressing another kiss to his forehead.
“Well, I suppose I’ll have to test that theory once my arm is better.”
His eyes sparkled with delight, and he nodded eagerly.
“Deal!”
Luna ran her fingers gently through his hair, savouring the moment.
“Now, come on,” she said softly. “Dinner will be ready soon.”
She turned to the rest of the boys, each too distracted with a thing to pay attention to her – playing with each other, focusing on toys, colouring something under the nannies’ watchful eyes.
“Alright, everyone,” she called, clapping her hands lightly. “Time to wash our hands before dinner.”
It was like summoning a tidal wave of children. But instead of rushing to wash their hands, they all swarmed her.
“Mama!” A chorus of little voices rang out.
“Mama, what happened?” Blue demanded, eyes wide with concern as he backed right to her.
“Are you better from your accident, Mama?” Sammy asked, his brow furrowed.
“Mama,” Dash whined from Prince’s arms, reaching out impatiently. “I want Mama.”
Luna barely had time to brace herself before they surrounded her, their little hands tugging at her dress, reaching for her, full of warmth, concern, and relentless energy.
She softened, reaching for each of them, pressing gentle kisses to their foreheads.
“I’m alright,” she assured them. “Everything’s fine. My arm just hurts a little, that’s all.”
Teddy paused, his big, sweet eyes filled with quiet worry and sadness. Luna didn’t hesitate — she pulled him into a tight hug, holding him close.
He was the oldest one who still wasn’t as tall as her, but that would change soon. Prince and Hunter had both hit their growth spurts at twelve, and Teddy’s 12th birthday was only a few months away.
Oh, her sensitive boy. Teddy had always been more tender than his older brothers. He would hate the growing pains.
“Mama,” Dash whined, throwing himself on her just as she let his older brother go.
Prince tried to hold onto him, but Luna shifted, gathering Dash against her hip with her good arm. He clung to her, his small fingers reaching for her face, his expression so heartbreakingly sad.
“There, there,” she whispered, rubbing slow circles on his back, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
With her free hand, she reached down, running her fingers through Sammy’s hair as he wrapped his tiny arms around her.
“So many affectionate boys,” she said with a smile, her focus shifting to Blue and Lex as she reached out to gently cup their round little cheeks. “How did I get so lucky to have nine of you loving me this much? I’ll never know!”
“We love you, Mama,” Sweetie said, looking up at her with those big, bright blue eyes.
Luna’s heart squeezed. She cupped his face, her thumb brushing his cheek.
“And I love each one of you,” she affirmed, firm and tender all at once. “And that love still stands when I say — it’s time to wash our hands. Dinner is ready.”
“In the dining room?” Blue asked hesitantly.
Luna exhaled.
“In the kitchen,” she reassured him. “It’s where we eat.”
He relaxed, his little shoulders slumping as he exhaled, and Luna couldn’t help but smile. She glanced at the nannies, who were looking much calmer now as they began guiding the boys toward the corridor.
“Come on, you’ve heard your mother,” Sarah called gently. “Time to wash our hands.”
Sammy groaned dramatically as he shuffled off with them, and Luna bounced Dash a little, feeling the warm weight of him resting his head on her shoulder.
“And you too, my little baby,” she teased, gently tickling his belly as she started heading to the bathroom.
“No!” he protested, squirming in her arms.
Luna scoffed, amused. Oh, her little hater of all things cleaning.
“Come on, we don’t want all those germs in our food,” she said, a playful yet serious tone in her voice.
She nudged the tall stool by the sink with her foot and set him down gently.
“And you can help me,” Luna coached, her voice full of exaggerated sweetness.
You want a little one to do something? Just imply you can’t do it— and watch them scramble to teach you.
Luna had done this at least eight times before, and it never failed.
She avoided glancing at herself in the mirror, her focus solely on Dash as she carefully picked him up again, cradling him as they finished up. She was about to head back to the kitchen when Dash suddenly reached for her face, his small fingers touching a spot on her cheek.
Luna quickly reached for his hand, holding her wince as she raised her palm and kissed it before tickling him again. It was best he thought everything was perfectly well.
“Guess what?” she asked, her voice light and teasing. “The cook made something you love!”
Dash’s eyes widened, his curiosity piqued.
“Really?” he asked, leaning toward her with a sparkle in his eyes.
“Yes!” Luna exclaimed, her excitement building. “Pork!”
Dash gasped, his face lighting up.
“Pork?” he echoed.
Dash had yet to try pork.
“Yes!” she confirmed with a grin. “Aren’t you excited?”
“Yes!” Dash yelled, his enthusiasm contagious as he giggled in her arms.
Luna chuckled softly as Dash beamed proudly from his high chair, his excitement palpable. The rest of the boys scrambled around, rushing to their spots at the table, eager to help the cook and assistant set everything up for dinner.
“We are having pork!” Dash announced to the whole group, his voice filling up the room. “I love pork!”
“What’s pork?” Blue asked.
She glanced back, and his little brow was furrowed as he seemed to try to remember the word.
“It’s pork,” she replied simply. “It’s… food. Protein. Like… beef, like… poultry.”
“It’s pig,” Sammy piped up.
She paused, looking back at the kids, her stomach sinking.
Once, Prince had told Teddy that chicken was actually chicken. He refused to eat it for two whole months.
And right away, she could see both Blue and Dash’s face falling.
“Pork is pig?!” Blue asked again, his little voice filled with disbelief as if the world had suddenly crumbled under his feet. “Like… like… little pigs?”
She grimaced, holding back a groan.
Oh, come on.
“We’re gonna eat piggies?” Dash exclaimed, his big eyes wide with horror as the realisation hit him.
Oh, great.
Luna wanted to groan as she thought of something to fix the situation.
“No, no, no,” she said quickly, stepping closer to them. “This is pork, it is food. It is not the little piggies you’ve seen on books and the farm, okay? It’s just meat.”
“But is it pig?” Blue asked.
Dash, on the other hand, still looked horrified at the thought of eating something her had a stuffed animal off.
“It’s pork,” she emphasised, looking right at Sammy, and he was covering his little mouth.
Oh, her dear boy.
“It’s like… beef,” she tried to explain. “It’s… pork.”
That was the only explanation she had. What else was she going to say? It was pig!
“It’s pork,” Prince agreed when she looked at him. “It’s good, it’s fine, right, Hunter?”
“What- right!” he jumped in, clearly after being elbowed on the side. “It’s not the same as the farm.”
“You promise?” Blue asked.
“We promise,” both boys confirmed. “Right, mum?”
“Yes, absolutely,” she agreed.
The boys were quiet for a moment before Dash finally spoke up again, his little voice cautious.
“Okay, mama,” he agreed.
Luna let out a small sigh of relief, seeing the tension begin to ease from their little faces, though she could tell they were still processing the whole ‘pig’ thing, and Blue was still looking very sceptical at her, frowning.
"Are you sure, Mama?" he asked, his voice softer this time.
Luna walked to him, caressing his chubby face with her hand.
“I am absolutely sure, sweetheart,” she pressed a kiss to her temple. “And you really like pork, remember?”
She looked at Sammy, and he was clearly trying to hold back his laugh, and she could only sigh.
Eventually, everyone was seated, served, and eating, their chatter filling the room. For the first time that whole day, Luna felt herself relax.
It almost felt normal, dinner.
Dinner almost felt… normal. No whole roasted pig to spark another crisis, just neatly cut pork, served alongside a rich sauce and sides that were actually flavourful — not just sad, steamed vegetables.
The boys were happy, the tension from earlier finally melting away. The air felt lighter, freer. And Cato was gone.
If Luna knew him — and after sixteen years of knowing him at his best and worst, she certainly did — he wouldn’t be back anytime soon.
They could count on a peaceful night, and she would take every second of it she could get.
Everyone brushed their teeth and headed to the playroom, little bellies full and moods high.
Bedtimes for the boys were different, so she was able to return to them after putting Dash to bed, and give attention to the littlest boys, and she could see how both Blue and Lex were fighting sleep when their bedtime came just so they could be with her as well.
“Alright,” Luna called softly. “Come on, bedtime for my brave boys.”
She tucked them in with warm cuddles and gentle kisses, then moved on to Sammy, Sweetie, and Archie half an hour later, settling each of them into bed as well.
By the end of the night, she had Teddy curled up on her left, Hunter on her right, and Prince resting his head on her thighs while she stroked his hair.
It was exhausting — all of it. Managing so many boys, juggling their needs, ensuring each one felt equally loved. If not for school occupying them for a third of the day, Luna wasn’t sure how she’d survive.
Ten kids.
She sighed, glancing at Prince, then at the other two. Teddy was already nodding off against her shoulder, stubbornly resisting sleep even as exhaustion pulled at him.
She had planned for both Teddy and Hunter, wanting Prince to have little brothers close in age — a trio, just like she and the twins had been.
It was very bittersweet, knowing all of this. Not that she’d ever say it out loud. She’d never tell the children where she had been when they first came into her life. They didn’t deserve that weight.
She lowered herself gently, pressing a kiss to her eldest's head before pulling Hunter’s hand to her lips, kissing his knuckles, and then doing the same to Teddy’s.
It wasn’t easy, being old enough to understand things.
When Luna had reached that age, all she had to grasp was that her father had a job — somewhere unknown, somewhere dangerous. That was why Mum had to hold the fort, why she was the one who cared for them day in and day out.
But still, she had never doubted her father’s love. The twins hadn’t either. Every moment he spent with them was filled with love, attention, and care. He always made them feel special.
Prince, Hunter, and Teddy hadn’t been given that same innocence. They had learned things no child should ever know. They had seen their father do things to their mother that no child should ever witness.
“Bedtime, everyone,” she called, squeezing them close. “We’ve all had an exceptionally long day.”
They’d been dragged out of bed way too early, gone through too much. They needed rest and so did she.
“No,” Ted whined.
“Yes,” she insisted, patting his knee. “Come on. I’ll put you to bed.”
“What, like we’re kids?” Hunter chuckled.
Prince stood up without protest, waiting as she followed and tugged his brothers along.
“You are kids,” she reminded him, giving his hand a playful tug. “Just kids with long limbs.”
She pulled Hunter close, planting a loud kiss on his cheek.
“And you are my kids,” she added. “Come along, now. I’ll tuck everyone in.”
The boys chuckled but didn’t argue. None of them ever denied her the chance to fuss over them.
Hunter and Prince lingered outside Teddy’s room as Luna guided him inside, hands gently resting on his shoulders. She kissed his cheek as he sank onto the bed, already drowsy.
“Goodnight, my little bear,” she wished softly, tucking his covers around him.
Teddy smiled sleepily.
“Goodnight, Mama,” he yawned.
When she stepped back into the hallway, she found Hunter and Prince elbowing each other.
“I go last!” Hunter insisted. “I wanna go last.”
“I go last!” Prince argued right back.
Luna sighed, shaking her head at their banter. She still needed to talk to them about the competition, about everything that had happened today — including their fight — but not tonight. She was exhausted. Tonight, she needed peace and sleep.
Luna sighed, shaking her head at their bantering.
“I’m keeping things fair,” she told them, crossing her arms. “You can argue all night, but it won’t change a thing. I pick, and I’m reversing birth order.”
She smirked at their groans and pointed down the hall.
“Come on, Hunter. To bed.”
He dragged his feet but made his way inside, and Luna patted his bed, waiting for him to slip under the covers before leaning in to press a kiss to his forehead, brushing his hair back gently.
“Are you alright?” Hunter asked, his eyes soft with concern. “Truly?”
Luna exhaled slowly, her heart aching at the question.
No, she wasn’t. She was far from it.
“That’s not for you to worry about,” she whispered, tucking the blanket around him. “I worry about you, not the other way around.”
“Mama,” he whined, pulling a hand free from the covers to take hers. “I mean it.”
She watched him for a moment, her thumb tracing slow circles against the back of his palm.
Oh, her honey boy.
“I’m fine,” she assured him, squeezing his hand gently. “I just want you to rest, alright? I’m fine, and my arm will be, too, in a few days.”
Hunter studied her for a moment before finally softening. She lifted his hand and kissed his knuckles.
“Now sleep,” she told him, brushing his blonde hair back one last time. “Good night, my love. Sweet dreams.”
Luna stepped out, closing Hunter’s door gently behind her, only to find Prince watching her from his own doorway.
“Mrs Mother,” he greeted playfully, arms crossed.
“Mister Son?” she arched an eyebrow. “Bedtime now.”
He gave her an amused look.
“You don’t have to,” he reminded her. “I’m fourteen, Mum.”
Luna scowled. Fourteen. As if that was some grand, towering age — an undeniable marker of wisdom and independence.
But she knew better. He was just like Juno — craving affection but pretending he didn’t need it.
“Yeah, yeah, the big boy,” she teased, nudging him into his room. “Soon you’ll be taller than me, and then you won’t need your poor old mother anymore. I’ll have to resign myself to giving all my love to nine children instead of ten.”
Prince plopped onto his bed, and she stood beside it, watching him. He waited, expectant.
“Well,” she said, dragging out the word. “I’ll go now.”
His face fell instantly.
“You’ll go?”
Luna shrugged, feigning indifference.
“You said I don’t have to tuck you in,” she reminded him. “You are fourteen, apparently that is when you stop needing your mother’s goodnight kisses.”
He looked at her, his lips curling into a pout she knew too well before he covered it up, crossing his arms.
“Well, I…” he looked for words and huffed. “Mama!”
She bit back a smile, crossing her arms.
“Yes, my prince?”
“You know that’s not what I meant.”
She feigned innocence.
“Oh? So you do want me to tuck you in?”
Prince groaned, flopping dramatically onto his back.
“I didn’t say that either.”
Luna chuckled, sitting down on his bed.
“Look at you, I gave birth to my own sister,” she teased him. “You’re just like your aunt, you know that? Acting like you’re too grown for me but secretly hoping I’ll stay.”
He didn’t say anything, just glanced at her from the corner of his eye, his face pink. Luna sighed, reaching out to brush his hair back.
“You don’t have to play tough with me,” she told him softly. “Not when it’s just us. I’ll always be your mama, I’ll always see you as a kid, you might as well accept that, hm?”
Prince scowled but set his eyes on her face.
“I know you’re hurt,” he mumbled. “I hate him for doing that.”
Luna’s heart squeezed.
“I know,” she whispered. “But I’m alright now. You don’t have to worry about me.”
Prince rolled his eyes.
“That’s what you always say,” he argued back.
“And it’s always true,” she told him. “Soon, this situation will be over. You’ll see.”
He frowned at her, seeming confused.
“How?”
Luna didn’t reply, and he didn’t pull away when she leaned in, pressing a kiss to his forehead.
“Goodnight, my love,” she wished him. “Have good dreams.”
Prince sighed but relented.
“Goodnight, Mum.”
Luna smiled, tucking the blanket around him before standing up. She lingered for just a moment, watching him settle in, and sighed, turning off his bedside lamp and walking out of his room.
She sighed before making her way up to her bedroom, every step feeling like she was dragging two times her weight with her.
This fucking house.
She caught sight of the nanny just as she entered the room, humming a soft lullaby to Juni, who was peacefully nestled in her arms. The nanny looked up, her gentle smile fading into a moment of surprise when she noticed Luna.
“Mrs Hadley.”
Luna raised a hand to her.
“It’s alright, I see you got it,” she smiled.
Juni was happily asleep in her arms, very peaceful.
“I fed her,” the nanny explained. “I knew you were busy, and it’s been a long day.”
Luna nodded gratefully, walking closer. She gave Juni a soft once-over before leaning in to plant a quiet kiss on her little head. The sight of her daughter’s peaceful slumber eased some of the tension on her shoulders.
“You can put her in her crib now,” Luna said quietly. “You took the afternoon shift; I’ll handle the night one.”
The nanny smiled, her eyes warm, before stepping out of the room. Luna lingered for a moment longer, watching the soft rise and fall of Juni’s chest as she was placed on her crib, before she exhaled deeply, ready to face her night routine.
A hot shower to wash off the weight of the day, another slather of Capitol cream for the bruises, and a change into fresh clothes.
She climbed into bed with a sense of relief, grateful for the solitude, yet unsettled by how empty it all felt.
There were three free rooms in Mum and Dad’s house.
She had money in the bank — enough to secure a place near them. She could move into any house close to theirs after. But for the first few weeks, she could share a room with Juni and Dash, and give the boys their own spaces. Each room could fit four of them, though it would mean two sets of bunk beds per room. Tight but manageable.
The whole idea of transferring schools was something she hadn’t thought about.
But then, a rebellion was something no one could’ve predicted, and there were far more pressing concerns. Their schooling would certainly take a backseat for a while. Her priority was stability as soon as she could, even if it meant a few months of chaos.
Four boys in each room — she could make it work. After that, she would find a house of their own. And with the savings of the last 15 years, they could start anew — she would find a job, any job — and rebuild. One step at a time.
Luna drifted off to sleep with the thoughts of plans and possibilities filling her mind, a rare moment of peace settling over her.
It was dark when she woke up, which was confusing and a strange feeling. She blinked into the shadows, trying to piece together that unfamiliar sensation. It took a few moments before her mind registered it, something moving at the edge of her vision.
Her heart raced as she sat up too quickly, the sudden motion making her head spin.
Cato was standing at the door, holding… something.
"Loony?" he called, barely a whisper, raw.
Luna froze, the sound of his voice, the sight of him, sending a chill through her. It was enough to shake her from her haze, leaving her fully awake, pulse pounding in her ears.
She swallowed, trying to take in a deep breath.
“It’s late,” Luna managed to say. “We can wait to talk in the morning.”
He was meant to stay away the whole night. Couldn’t he give her a whole night of sleep?
Cato flipped the light switch on, and she closed her eyes instinctively, the light hurting them.
When she opened her eyes, he hadn’t even moved from his spot, holding the biggest bouquet of flowers she had ever seen in her life close to his chest.
“I got you this,” Cato spoke up. “I… I don’t know if you like flowers.”
Luna stared. She was indifferent to flowers. It never quite made sense as to why some dead plants with no use but decoration made that good of a gift and a demonstration of love instead of actions and useful or thoughtful gifts.
Cato was tense — completely tense. She could see it on his neck and every muscle of his face, even if he was trying to look at her with some soft, sweet look. He was standing there like a wire about to snap.
He hadn’t looked sweet in years — and this wasn’t it.
How she could have ever thought Prince looked anything like him, she didn’t know. The man standing in front of her looked nothing like the boy Luna had known once — the boy her son looked like now.
“They’re beautiful,” she lied, anyway. “But you can take the guest room, and we’ll talk in the morning. We’re tired, we need to sleep.”
He couldn’t expect her to let him take her side, right? Lay down with her? After what he’d done?
“No, we need to talk,” Cato told her. “We need to fix this. We need to talk.”
Luna clenched her jaw, looking around the room.
Juni’s door was the closest to her bed. It only had one lock, but the furniture would block the door.
“Loony, I know, I was… stupid,” Cato stepped into the room.
Luna moved on the bed quickly, standing by it quickly, her feet on the carpeted floor, a shiver running up her spine.
The single thought of letting him anywhere close to her, any step nearer her, or even in the same room, sent the worst of all fears into her stomach.
“We both said things we didn’t mean to say today,” Cato continued, not even seeming to be aware of her, to see her.
He wasn’t speaking to her, he was speaking at her.
“We both have regrets,” her husband insisted, looking directly at her, unblinking.
His eyes were wild. Like she was looking at a trapped animal between a predator and a cliff.
“Cato, we can talk tomorrow,” she insisted. “Please, I’d like to sleep alone tonight.”
“And I was a brute,” he continued, gesturing with the flowers. “I lost control.”
She stared, swallowing down. Lost control, it was what he called it.
“Okay,” she told him. “I… I’m listening. I hear you.”
“So you know I’m sorry,” Cato took a bigger step in her direction, and Luna stepped to her side, closer to the nursery door.
He was fast. Cato was always fast. He was big, he could reach for her before she even made it there.
“You know that I did not intend to upset you!” he insisted.
She clenched her jaw, his eyes as he looked at her.
“I know,” Luna spoke slowly. “I… I understand. But I think we’ll both benefit from a good night's sleep. It will be good for us.”
She could listen to her own heart in her ears, as loud as his voice.
“Let me make it up to you,” he moved his hand, and she flinched before she even realised he was trying to offer her the flowers.
“Tomorrow,” she insisted. “Cato, we—”
“Please, Loony!” he hissed.
He took another step, and she took her chance.
Her feet pounded against the floor as she dashed into the nursery, slamming the door behind her with a force that made the walls vibrate. She didn’t stop to look back, didn’t wait to see if he would try to follow. Instead, she turned the lock, her hands shaking as the click of the mechanism echoed in the silence.
“Luna!” he called, muffled, but the desperation in it still cut through her. “You’re being unreasonable!”
She looked around the room, the sound of Juni stirring behind her registering in the back of her mind, but taking second place to what was most important: she needed to block the door.
“I don’t want to talk right now,” she pleaded. “We can talk in the morning.”
She knew those eyes, that thousand-yard stare of his. Cato was in no state to talk, to even be in the house.
Luna’s heart was racing as she shoved the rocking chair against the door, trying to angle it just right. She'd seen it done before — people using furniture as barricades — but she knew it wouldn’t hold for long. Cato was stronger than that.
His fists slammed into the door, his weight crashing against it with a force that made her flinch. She took a step back without even thinking.
"Luna, open it up!" he demanded, twisting the knob violently, but the chair held for a moment, creaking under the pressure.
Fuck.
She covered her ears as Juni’s cries practically pierced into them, the sound overwhelming as her nails dug into her own skull.
Fuck this, she didn’t know what she was going to do!
“Open the door!”
“I don’t wanna talk!” she finally shouted back, her voice cracking. “Leave me alone!”
Juni cried more, as loud as only a baby her size could be when ignored.
She heard the door splintering — wood cracking as Cato slammed into it once, then twice — and before she could fully react, it shattered completely, falling away like it had been made of paper. The chair she’d pushed against it earlier was tossed aside as if it had no more weight than a feather.
Cato was unrelenting, moving her back toward the bedroom, like a wild animal trying to drag its prey back into its den. He barely acknowledged her struggles, pulling her closer with every step, tightening his grip.
“Let me go,” she begged, any pretence of trying to appease him go. “I don’t wanna talk to you.”
“We are going to talk,” he said, his voice cold and insistent, like he was the one making the rules now. His breath was hot against her cheek as he moved his face dangerously close to hers.
“I came here to talk.”
The anger she felt began to boil over.
“I don’t wanna talk to you!” she spat, her words sharp and bitter.
She had said it — over and over again. How many more times would she need to say it so he would understand?!
“We need to fix this!” Cato shook her.
“You can’t fix this!” she kicked her leg out, aiming for his shins, but it was no use. “You can’t fix this! You’ll never be able to fix this!”
He wasn’t blind, stupid, or unaware of everything they’d gone through. Did he think he could just walk in with flowers and things would be better?
“You ruined everything,” Luna sobbed.
She didn’t even realise she was crying until now.
“You ruined my life, you ruined your life, you ruined our kids' lives!”
She used to be happy. Luna was so happy before him. They could all think she was weird, but she had people who cared about her, she was starting her career, and she had a future.
Now she was… this. Angry. Broken. Trapped.
Luna had been willing to give him the benefit of the doubt for so long. She spent fucking years telling herself that maybe — just maybe — he could get better, that they could work things out. But she knew now it was all a lie long ago, and she should have left the day his hand touched her face.
He had ruined all of it! And he knew, he had to know!
But it went right over his head. He wasn’t listening, he didn’t fucking care! His mind wasn’t even with her, she knew that.
Cato tightened his grip on her arms, his fingers digging into her skin, right over the bruises he had left before. He didn’t even seem to notice — or didn’t care. She could feel the pain spreading, but there was something far worse about the way he spoke.
“I’m not losing you, do you hear me?” he growled, his voice full of venom. “You’re my wife. These are my children! And when they come, you’ll all come with me, and we’ll be a fucking family.”
She almost laughed.
“You have no family!” she shot back. “No one wants you around, Cato. The kids hate you, they’re terrified of you! I hate you! I can’t wait for the day I’ll never have to see you again!”
His eyes flared, the muscles in his jaw tensing as her words landed, but he didn’t let go of her, didn’t release his grip.
How had they gotten here? How had she allowed this for so long?
“I won’t go with you,” she warned him. “Not now, not ever. And you’re not taking my children! I’ll die before I let any of us go anywhere with you.”
His hands let her go suddenly, dropping her onto the floor, and Luna’s legs didn’t even hold her up, she fell to her knees.
Juni was still crying, so loud she knew it was hurting her little throat, but she couldn’t get up.
“Get out,” she begged him. “Just leave, Cato.”
He turned to the side in the direction of the nursery, his face twitching at the sound, and Luna grabbed his shirt instinctively. No, if he wanted to be angry he would be angry at her. She was not letting him redirect this to Juni!
“Get out!” Luna screamed, her voice raw, desperate.
Her hands were shaking, but she held onto him like her life depended on it. She wasn’t going to let him win this time.
He glared down at her, eyes wild.
He used to look at her with so much love when they were young. Now, it was like she was some object he had to fight to carry around, like she was something to be broken and glued together to the shape he wanted.
Suddenly, Cato’s hands shot out again, this time not grabbing her arms, but wrapping around her throat, lifting her from the floor. Luna gasped, the air squeezed from her lungs, and the panic grew in her chest, overwhelming her every instinct.
His eyes were wild, filled with a white-hot fury that burned through the dim light like a firestorm.
“You’d rather die, then?” he hissed, his voice low, the words like poison in the air.
She couldn’t breathe. His grip tightened, the pressure on her throat stealing what little air she had left, leaving her gasping and thrashing in desperation. Her hands shot up, clawing at his fingers, trying to pry them off, kicking wildly.
“You'll die before you let any of them come with me!” Cato spat, his face twisted in rage, but there was something else in his eyes — hollow like he was no longer seeing her, no longer even present at the moment.
His eyes were empty, blank like he was lost in some other world entirely, detached from the reality they shared.
Luna’s body shook, she could feel the pulse in her head, the black dots clawing her eyes as her lungs screamed for air.
“You’ll die before you let any of them come with me!” he hissed. “My sons, my daughter.”
But Cato let her go as suddenly as he had grabbed her, dropping her to the floor like she was nothing, but the pain didn’t register right away — her mind was still trying to catch up, her breath burning her throat and her head spinning, struggling to make sense of what had just happened.
Everything felt distant, like her senses were in overdrive and yet somehow out of sync. Her vision was blurred, her pulse thundering in her ears, and for a few disorienting seconds, Luna couldn’t process anything clearly. All she could hear were the sounds of chaos — things crashing, breaking, heavy footsteps pounding against the floor, and Juni’s cries.
Her heart hammered in her chest as she fought to clear her thoughts. The nursery. Her eyes snapped in that direction, and for a terrifying moment, she couldn’t even tell if anyone was in there with her daughtesr. But then, her sight finally sharpened enough to see Juni still in her crib, crying — thankfully, still safe, still where she had left her, all alone.
But her attention was taken away just as quick and she saw one of the boys had hit the floor. The loud thud echoed in the room loudly and she blinked, trying to focus, but she couldn’t even tell which one it was. It could have been Prince or Hunter.
She didn’t wait to figure it out, Cato was already over him and Luna dragged herself to them, trying to stop him from attacking her son.
Her hands found his hair first, her fingers gripping the strands, pulling as hard as she could. But it wasn’t enough. She was screaming into his ear, for him to notice, to stop, but Cato was too lost in his fury to care. It wasn’t until Luna shoved her fingers into his eyes — pushing with all the strength she had — that Cato let out a strangled sound, and the pain seemed to be enough to get him away from her boy.
He let out a sharp, furious yell, stumbling back as the pain finally registered in him. The momentary distraction was all she needed. Luna barely had time to prepare for it before he retaliated, walking back him with enough force to slam her against the wall.
The impact knocked the air from her lungs, her back slamming against something hard, and a sharp crack filled the air — the mirror behind her shattering.
But she didn’t let go. Even as Cato’s elbow rammed into her ribs, even as she couldn’t even figure out what the fuck was hurting in her, she clung to him, her fingers curled tightly around his head, her ankles locked around his body.
Prince — yes, Prince — was finally scrambling away. She barely caught a glimpse of his thin frame darting out of the room before she felt Cato shifting, trying to throw her off.
Another crash — something else breaking — before his hands found her again, trying to pry her away, trying to shake her off like she was nothing more than an inconvenience, but she held on.
He slammed against her back again and something got into her skin – she couldn’t figure out where — but she didn’t let him go, just gritting her teeth. Not when Prince was so close, not when Juni was all alone.
Another shove. She felt the shift in his grip and then suddenly, she was falling. The impact sent pain ricocheting all through her body as she hit the floor, her slide slamming into the ground and whatever was left of her breath leaving her in a loud gasp.
Cato didn’t even turn to look at her, he was already moving.
Luna panted as she pushed herself up with her arms, ready to run after him again, but he suddenly froze on his spot.
His whole body jerked, stiffening, his breath hitching in his throat. He was dead in his tracks, and when Luna followed his eyes, there was Prince again.
Her son’s arm was bleeding, his small chest rising and falling with rapid breaths, and his hands were shaking like twigs, and his face was so pale — but his eyes had never been so fierce.
Prince was holding a sword.
Not just any sword. Cato’s sword. His favourite, the one he had commissioned to celebrate the fifteenth anniversary of his Hunger Games victory.
And he had it pointed straight at Cato.
“Get away from my mother!” Prince commanded, his voice trembling. He tightened his grip on the hilt, his knuckles turning white. “I swear... I swear, I’ll use it.”
Cato was like a statue.
Luna could hear his breathing, sharp and uneven like he wasn’t sure whether to be furious or afraid. His eyes locked onto the blade, and for the first time, he hesitated.
The sword was enormous in Prince’s hands — of course it was. He was just a child.
Luna’s heart pounded.
She had to move.
Cato didn’t speak, just staring at him.
Did he see what she was seeing?
Did he recognise himself in her son? That reckless courage, the boy who refused to be powerless and let life do as it wished with him? A boy so similar to the one Luna knew 15, 16 years ago?
Or did he see how much better Prince was than him? Braver. Kinder. Stronger — not because of him, but despite him.
Prince took a step forward. Cato took a step back.
For a single, breathless moment, she thought he would give up.
And then Cato lunged at him.
His hand shot out, seizing Prince’s wounded arm and her boy cried out as Cato twisted him around — so stupidly and recklessly, that the sword drove straight into his side, very new and still sharp.
A strangled sound left Cato’s throat and they both dropped the blade, but Prince had the thought to kick it away, to Luna.
She stood up, only one thing crossing her mind when Cato stood up and shoved Prince away, ready to attack her boy again.
She grabbed the sword just as he started cornering her boy against a wall.
Her legs were shaking like a newborn deer learning to walk, but she lunged forward anyway. She barely knew how to wield it — barely felt its weight in her hands — but she swung the sword as hard as she could on him.
The blade met his side, and Cato let out a sound of pain, stumbling out of the way enough that Prince could run away from him.
And she kept hitting him. Luna wasn’t thinking, she just hit and hit and hit him, again and again, the weight of the sword helping her with each swing, her eyes blurry as she watched that wall of a man covered in red and crumbling in front of her.
Until he fell on the floor and she felt two warm hands on her arm, and turned her head to see Prince by her side.
Luna left the sword where it was, stuck on the back of his neck, half buried into him as Cato remained motionless onto the floor.
She turned to look at her boy, looking at her with his face pale and his blue eyes wide as he shook. He looked terrified.
“Mama!” Prince gasped.
Luna reached for him quickly, the sight of blood making her stomach drop.
“Are you cut?” she asked urgently, looking him all over. “Did I — did I hurt you?”
“No, no,” Prince grasped her hands, his grip tight, anchoring her.
Her eyes moved to his arm — it was bleeding, but she saw no deep wound.
“It’s okay,” he assured her, voice shaking. “I just hurt it on the glass. Mama—”
“Let me see,” she insisted, pulling him closer.
She checked, but there was no shard embedded in his skin, only a few shallow cuts and a darkening bruise around his eye.
A choked sob clawed up her throat.
She wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly, clutching him as the desperation, the terror, the relief all crashed into her at once.
He was okay.
Prince’s hands hovered for a moment, trembling as she pulled away as if he didn’t know if he could touch her. His eyes were wide shining with tears, locked on her, searching her face as though making sure she was real, that she was still here.
It just then registered in her mind how Juni was still crying, screaming loudly, her voice sounding raspy, desperate.
Luna’s breath caught.
Oh, God. Her baby.
Luna ran to the nursery, her feet still bare. She found Juni in her crib, tiny hands clenched into fists, her face red and streaked with tears.
Luna scooped her up, cradling her close, whispering, rocking, trying to soothe her.
“It’s okay,” she mumbled, though her own heart was still pounding so hard it felt like it might tear through her ribs. “It’s okay. You’re okay, little love.”
Juni’s little body was warm against her, her cries hitching as Luna stroked a shaking hand over her chubby cheek, trying — failing — to steady herself.
She didn’t look back at her bedroom, she couldn’t.
Juno whined against her chest, tiny hands grasping for comfort, and Luna instinctively shifted, leaning against the wall as she pulled her gown aside to let her latch. The familiar tug grounded her for a fleeting second.
She walked the room in slow, uneven steps, trying to steady herself — until her eyes landed on the chair on the floor.
Her breath caught in her throat.
Shit.
Luna closed her eyes.
Fuck.
Cato.
Was he dead? Had she killed him?
If he wasn’t dead, he had to be close to it. Right?
Her pulse pounded in her ears, drowning out everything but the rush of her own panic. Someone would notice. Soon.
They had to go.
Now.
Luna clutched Juno tighter, her mind racing.
They had to leave. She had to get the kids out.
She had to get at least Prince out, he was the only one who had been a part of this.
Fuck.
Luna rushed to the room, steadying Juni with her hands, and Prince was standing right where she had left him, staring at Cato on the floor, at the pool of maroon blonde on the light grey carpet.
She took her boy’s hand, ready to tell him to move, but she couldn’t. A groan, deep and raw, split the air behind them.
“Luna,” Cato’s voice cracked. “Luna!”
She turned, startled.
He wasn’t moving.
Not a twitch, not a shudder — just lying there.
Prince shifted beside her, instinctively stepping forward, but she shot a hand out, pressing him back.
“Luna,” Cato begged, his voice ragged, frantic.
Her son hesitated only a second before making a choice — he reached down, fingers wrapping around the hilt of the sword again.
“No—” Luna started, but before she could stop him, Prince yanked it free.
And then, more blood came. It spilt across their light grey carpet, dark and endless, pouring out of him like it couldn’t get away from him faster, the smell of blood turning overwhelming in the room.
Cato gasped — a wet, choking sound — and Prince staggered back, the sword slipping from his fingers. It hit the carpet with a dull thud, swallowed by the spreading pool of red.
Prince sucked in a sharp breath, his whole body tensing. But before he could keep looking — before the sight could carve itself into his young mind — Luna yanked him back.
She cupped his face with her free hand, forcing his eyes into hers.
“Mama—”
“Look at me,” she commanded, voice firm, unyielding.
He wouldn’t see.
She wouldn’t let him, he had seen enough.
Under them, Cato let out another strangled gurgle, his body still. Juni fed at her breast, undisturbed, oblivious to the moment her father took his final, shuddering breaths.
Luna swallowed down the panic clawing at her throat. There was no time to break.
“Go clean up,” she commanded.
Prince blinked at her, frowning.
"What?"
"Clean up," she repeated, sharper this time. "Make a backpack — only the important things."
“Mama—” Prince frowned.
"We’re leaving," her voice left no room for argument. "Go. Wake Hunter. Tell him to wake the others. Tell the nanny to help. No one comes upstairs. We are all leaving."
Prince hesitated, his young face tight with fear.
“Now, Prince.”
He nodded and ran out of the room.
Just then, Luna looked.
The carpet was completely maroon now, every fibre soaked through, swallowing every drop of him. Cato lay there, still and silent.
A body. Unmoving.
She felt nothing. No fear. No regret. Not even relief.
Just pure emptiness.
Was this how he had felt, watching the bodies pile up in the arena? The kids he had hunted down — children, just like him, just trying to survive. Had he felt this same numbness when he ended them?
A small whimper pulled her back.
Juni.
She had unlatched, her tiny face pressing into Luna’s chest, searching.
Luna adjusted her gown and patted her daughter’s back, the familiar rhythm grounding her, forcing her to move.
They had to go.
Now.
She needed… things.
A bag. Any bag.
Luna rushed to the crib, setting Juni down gently.
“I’ll be right back,” she whispered, flicking on the hanging mobile, its soft tune filling the space.
Diapers. Wipes. Powder.
Clothes. Socks—
She ran to her closet and stopped short.
No travel bags. She never travelled.
Fuck.
Her breath hitched, but she forced herself forward, back into the bedroom — her steps stalling for half a second at the sight of Cato’s lifeless form.
She didn’t think. She just moved.
The sheets.
Luna yanked them from her bed, covering him in one swift motion before striding into his closet.
Of course. Neatly stacked, pristine, an array of luggage waiting to be used.
She grabbed one — small enough to take along, but big enough to fit what they needed — and rushed back to the nursery.
Clothes, thick ones.
Extras of everything.
Some of Dash’s old things, Juni was growing fast.
Her hands moved frantically, stuffing the bag, heart hammering in her chest.
They had to leave quickly.
She ran to her closet, yanking open the doors and grabbing whatever she could.
A pair of dresses she didn’t hate. A jacket. Two handfuls of underwear. Walking shoes.
Her eyes flickered to the jewellery box on her vanity.
Money. They’d need money.
And if something happened to her—
Her parents would need it.
They could sell it. It was hers. She could do whatever she wanted with it.
Luna snatched the box, clutching it tightly for a second before shoving it into the suitcase with the rest of their things.
She stopped when she heard steps on the stairs, her feet quick when she walked to the corridor to stop whoever had come up – the boys, the staff, anyone – and stopped at the sight of Prince, looking at her with his face completely pale and his eyes wide, his body completely tense.
Behind him, two men loomed in crisp white Peacekeeper uniforms, weapons in hand and no helmets.
One of them looked straight at her.
“Luna Hadley?”
Chapter 15: YEAR 15: young people fall in love with the wrong people sometimes (7/7)
Summary:
Luna says goodbye to her previous life
Chapter Text
Luna stepped down the stairs slowly, barefoot, holding Juni close as her eyes swept over the Peacekeepers from head to toe.
Their uniform was completely wrong.
There were things you learned when your father was a Peacekeeper — things most people wouldn’t notice. The strict way their uniforms were meant to be worn, the precise way they walked, the strict regulations on their appearance. Even if she hadn’t seen her father in years, even if he was retired and the uniform had changed since then, some rules didn’t.
Those men didn’t fit.
Their hair was too long, each and everyone of them. One of them had his tied back — a clear violation. Only female Peacekeepers were allowed long hair, and even then, they had strict styles they had to follow. Buns, never loose.
And their helmets.
She shouldn’t even be seeing their hair, because Peacekeepers weren’t allowed to remove their helmets around civilians. Yet there they stood, bare-headed, weapons in hand.
This wasn’t right.
They let her take Juni from the crib, but nothing else.
One of the two men who had climbed the stairs stayed behind in her bedroom while the other escorted her and Prince down, and she kept her baby close, counting heads as they moved. One upstairs, another guarding the staircase, two in the living room — more footsteps echoing around.
Five? Six? Maybe seven?
Five to seven Peacekeepers in a house full of children.
“Mrs Hadley,” one of them spoke up, his voice very measured, almost gentle.
She winced at the sharp ache in her neck as she looked up at him, and he gave her a look that she supposed was meant to be kind.
“Do you want someone to check your neck?”
She just eyed him up, with Prince tightly by her side, the words suddenly locked into her throat again as her jaw tightened.
Prince stood pressed against her side, tense, his hand gripping hers.
“Who are you?” her son snapped.
They didn’t answer — whether by choice or orders, she couldn’t tell. But before she could dwell, hurried footsteps pounded down the stairs.
She didn’t need to see them to know. Hunter and Teddy.
The moment they reached the bottom, she opened her free arm, pulling them in.
“Mama, what’s going on?” Hunter asked breathlessly.
Teddy’s eyes went wide.
“What happened to you?”
Luna held Juni tighter, as if she could shield them with her body. The nightgown she still wore was stained with blood. She couldn’t see herself, but she knew — bruises, cuts, Cato’s blood. She must have looked as wrecked as she felt.
Then came the heavy, deliberate steps.
“74 is down,” a voice announced, and she could hear the sound of radio being turned off.
The man from her bedroom entered the living room, glancing around before his eyes landed on her. He didn’t bother hiding it — his faze dragged over her, assessing, unashamed and analytic.
“Upstairs is a mess.”
The sound of hurried steps echoed down the stairs — one heavy, the other achingly familiar.
Luna turned with her whole body, and her breath caught in her throat. Lyme’s eyes locked onto hers, widening in shock the moment they took her in.
“Jesus,” her old family friend whispered.
Luna’s shoulders relaxed, just barely.
Lyme. Lyme was safe. She would never hurt her. Never hurt the children.
She moved to them without hesitation, and Luna didn’t flinch as she reached out, a hand hovering close but not touching, as if afraid she might break her. Then she turned, glaring at the men behind them.
“Who did this?” Lyme’s voice was stiff, tight with controlled fury.
Luna swallowed hard, her jaw clenching. She wanted to answer. Cato. But the words stuck, lodged in her throat.
“Cato,” Prince said.
Lyme’s eyes snapped to him, tracing the length of his small, trembling arm before shifting to the men still blocking their way, boxing them against the wall.
“74 is down,” she spat, her voice sharp as a knife’s edge. “The only adult in this family is covered in blood and bruises, clinging to a newborn, and we are in a house full of children.”
She took a step forward, her presence a wall between Luna and the men.
“If you insist on holding your weapons, then guard the damn doors. These are harmless civilians.”
To Luna’s surprise, they all nodded in unison.
“Yes, Commander,” the men complied.
She watched as three of them moved into position — the main door, then the backyard, and finally into the kitchen, likely securing the entrance the staff used.
The other two locked their weapons, slinging them behind their backs. The long-haired one hesitated, shifting his weight as if searching for some way to make himself useful.
“Jones, bathroom. Get me a first-aid kit,” Lyme ordered. “Franke, go retrieve the nanny. Second floor.”
They obeyed immediately, leaving Luna and the children alone with Lyme.
Luna exhaled slowly as her friend turned to face her.
“This is a rebel invasion,” Lyme stated. “Cato was a double agent. Did you know that?”
Luna swallowed hard, then shook her head, the movement making it ache. It didn’t surprise her, though.
Of course Cato would play all sides for his own benefit.
“You’re not targets,” Lyme assured her. “None of you are people of interest, but because of him, we need to keep you under watch for a while. We’ll be relocating you to a repurposed facility.”
Luna stiffened, her frown deepening.
A facility?
"You’ll have time to pack,” Lyme continued, anticipating the protest before it came. “The nanny can come if she chooses. I’ll be with you the entire time. And your mother will be there.”
Luna’s breath hitched at that. Just her mother?
“This is a rebellion?” Teddy repeated, voice trembling with disbelief.
Lyme turned to him, her voice soft.
“Yes,” she confirmed. “But you’re safe. You’re with me.”
“You’re a Commander!” Hunter exclaimed.
“Yes,” Lyme confirmed again.
The boys exchanged glances, their expressions unreadable. Lyme took a slow breath before speaking again.
“It’s clear where your loyalties don’t lie,” she said carefully. “But I need you to confirm… if it was you or…”
Luna inhaled sharply, her muscles tensing all over again.
"Me,” she said, cutting in before Lyme could finish, her voice raspy and coming out in a big effort.
Her sons turned to her all together, and Prince’s eyes met hers right away, burning with anger, fear, and fierce protectiveness. But Luna held her ground, keeping her expression hard and unwavering.
She wasn’t going to let him take the fall. If there were consequences for Cato’s death, they would be hers to bear. She was an adult — Prince was just a child. He had already been hurt enough.
“What happened?” Hunter asked, his voice tight.
“Shut up,” Prince hissed, barely sparing him a glance.
Luna turned to them both, and Hunter and Teddy immediately stiffened, falling silent without hesitation.
Jones returned, his steps quiet. He kept his eyes on Lyme, carefully avoiding looking at Luna or the children, but when she studied him, something about him struck her as… familiar, in a distant way.
Like they’d crossed paths times before but never quite met.
“I need to check your back,” Lyme said, watching her closely. “And your neck. But your back is… it’s important. Right now.”
A strange sensation prickled across Luna’s spine, and suddenly, she was aware of something.
On her skin. In her skin.
Lyme hesitated before adding-
“And if you allow it,” she glanced at Luna before turning to Prince, “Jones can take a look at your arm.”
“I’m fine,” Prince said quickly.
Lyme didn’t push, just gave Prince a knowing look before turning back to Luna.
“I still need to see your back,” she said, her voice gentler this time.
Luna nodded stiffly. Lyme gestured to the armless armchair nearby, and as she moved to sit, Hunter stepped forward, carefully taking Juni from her arms. Teddy hovered right beside him, watching over their sister with quiet vigilance.
Lyme reached out, gently sweeping Luna’s hair aside. The touch sent a shiver down her, and she pulled her hair forward instinctively, trying to hide her body with it, suddenly aware of how exposed she was, standing and sitting there in nothing but a thin, baby-ready nightgown while surrounded by rebels — a bunch of strangers.
She pulled the fabric higher on her chest, but before she could tense up more, Prince stepped in front of her, his body blocking Jones’ line of sight, and the tension in her chest loosened just a little bit.
Then the pain started, then, demanding to be felt now that she wasn’t trying to focus on saving her own life.
A sharp, stinging burn spread across her back, like fresh cuts carving into her skin — eveyrwhere.
“Okay,” Lyme exhaled from behind her, her voice low and unreadable.
Prince reached for something, then lifted a small light over Luna’s shoulder, illuminating her back. She caught a glimpse of his face — stiff, unreadable, but his grip on the light was tight and his knuckles pale.
And then she felt it.
The glass, the shards embedded in her skin, pressing in until Lyme’s careful fingers began to pull them free, one by one.
She hadn’t even realised. It must have been when Cato shoved her back, slamming her against the mirror in his desperate attempt to break free.
Luna clenched her jaw, forcing herself to stay still, to keep her face from showing the pain. She refused to wince, to react, even as each sharp tug sent fresh waves of pain rolling through her.
Lyme made a sound — something between a sigh and a curse, quiet but heavy.
And then there was her neck.
Luna swallowed, and the motion sent a fresh bolt of agony tearing through her throat.
Fuck.
Luna clenched her fists around the fabric of her gown, eyes squeezing shut as Lyme worked, her touch precise and steady. A cool sting spread over her back — cleaning, disinfecting, treating wounds that seemed endless. Each press of the cloth, each swipe of whatever solution Lyme was using, made Luna’s fingers tighten on the fabric, her jaw clenching harder and harder.
“There’s a…” Lyme started, then hesitated, exhaling through her nose. “You might need stitches. I can do them, but…” another pause. “You don’t have anything for the pain.”
Luna barely blinked.
“Fine,” she forced out of her throat, and winced at the effort.
They had an emergency stitch kit. The nannies were trained for things like this. But Luna had taken a lot from the kit yesterday, every pain supply she could find.
She braced herself, forcing her muscles to stay still.
Then, Prince reached for her hand. Luna turned her head a bit, just enough to meet his gaze, and he didn’t say anything — just held out his hand, steady, unwavering.
She took it.
As Lyme began stitching, she gritted her teeth, the sharp pull and sting cutting through her, tugging on the pain, and she tried not to squeeze too tightly, but her fingers curled around Prince’s, seeking something to ground herself.
He let her, and didn’t let go.
It felt like forever before Lyme finally finished, and even the simple act of straightening up sent fresh waves of agony through Luna’s body.
She tried to turn her neck to the side — impossible. Even the thought of attempting the other side made her stomach churn.
How had she even walked down here like this? How had she fought Cato?
She had just stood up when the nanny walked into the living room, looking as pale and stiff as a piece as a piece of marble when she looked at them.
“Mrs Hadley?” she asked, voice small. The girl was terrified.
Luna turned her whole body just to face her, but it was Prince who answered first.
“We’re leaving,” he said firmly. “We need help packing for everyone.”
The nanny’s wide eyes moved between him, Luna, and Lyme before settling back on Luna.
“Everyone?” she whispered.
Luna gave a stiff attempt of a nod.
Lyme glanced at Jones.
“You can help them?” she suggested. “The boys know where their brothers’ rooms are. They’ll know who needs help the most.”
But before anyone could move, Prince’s voice cut through the room.
“I’m not leaving my mother,” he said, firm. “We’re not leaving her alone.”
Lyme kept her eyes soft as he looked at them, but Luna didn’t stiffened.
“Go,” Luna tried to command, but her voice came out as little more than a whisper.
Fuck.
She turned to Lyme, reaching for her, squeezing her arm. They needed to pack. They needed to leave.
“With them?” she mouthed.
Her friend nodded.
“I’ll go upstairs with you and Jones,” she told her. “One of you can go with your mother and the nanny.”
Luna pulled Prince close, pressing a quick kiss to his face before doing the same with Hunter and Teddy.
“Go,” she mouthed again, her voice failing her completely.
It took a moment, but they obeyed. Teddy went upstairs with Prince, Lyme, and Jones, and Hunter stayed with her and the nanny, just holding Juni.
Williams arrived with luggage, and Luna didn’t ask where they’d come from, it didn’t matter. She just packed, methodically folding what was necessary, leaving the nanny to handle dressing the younger boys as she watched Hunter pacing back at forth with his little sister, either distracting her or using her as his own much needed distraction.
There would be questions. Confused, sleepy little eyes filled with curiosity and fear. But right now, Luna couldn’t face that, the nanny had to do it.
Luna needed to do something with her hands, to focus on something.
If that something was packing — figuring out what mattered, what to take, what to leave behind — then so be it.
She worked quickly. Two outfits for each type of weather. Clean underwear. Coats. Sturdy shoes that could handle long walks. Fabrics that wouldn’t need much care.
The bare essentials, only enough things she would only need help from one of the older boys to transport it, considering what she had packed upstairs.
They couldn’t afford to be weighed down, not when she didn’t know where they would be going or for how long.
The big suitcase was packed, fitting enough clothes for all four of the younger ones. Luna still needed to head upstairs to check on the older boys’ things. Kids always got attached to things — things that were often hard to carry around.
When she stepped up in the corridor, leaving Sweetie still asleep, she was surprised to find Hunter standing in the corridor, holding a bundle of clothes and a towel in his hands and with Juni in her pram.
“For you,” he whispered, as though it was a simple task.
Luna hesitated.
They needed help.
But her boy pushed the clothes to her hands.
“We’re getting backpacks,” he said, completely focused. “One for each. The big stuff goes in the bag Lyme took from Dad’s closet — the winter jackets, shoes. Just enough. But you need to dress too.”
She swallowed, the urgency in his voice cutting through her hesitation. He was right.
Luna was drenched in blood, her nightgown was stiff with it now, the fabric was clinging to her skin where it had dried. She couldn’t stay like this — not in front of them.
She kissed Hunter’s palm gently, taking a deep breath before walking to the nearest bathroom and flicked the light on. The sight of herself in the mirror would have been haunting if she hadn’t already seen this nightmare yesterday.
He hadn’t touched her face this time. Aside from the cuts on her back, the rest of her body remained mostly the same, slightly faded — the bruise cream had sped up her healing, but the bruises on her face were still bright yellow and would need the cream again.
But her neck — her neck was another story.
It was nearly black with bruising, swollen like it had never bee, before. Some red marks were on her nose, and one of her eyes had a broken blood vessel, making it look as though her eye itself had been bled out.
And the blood. It wasn’t hers. She could feel it, could see it soaked through her clothes.
Luna peeled the dress off with every musle of her shaking, dropping it to the floor, her throat tightened as she struggled to swallow. She soaked a towel under warm water, pressing it against her skin, trying to scrub at the dried blood off.
It felt endless, all the rubbing and scraping away the blood. It had clung to her like a fucking parasite. The more she tried to clean it, the more it seemed to just want to stay, and even when the blood was gone from sight, she could still feel it all of her, like it was a presence lingering on her skin, as if Cato had seeped into her very cells.
Like he wanted to make everything even more unforgettable.
She wondered if there was an afterlife.
If ghosts existed and Cato was right behind her now, watching as she scrubbed his blood from her skin, as if somehow cleaning away the remains of him could undo what had happened.
Luna had just leaned over to rinse her hands when her eyes fell on rings on her finger, three now, stacked on top of one another, a silent reminder of the past.
The first ring, the only one she had ever truly cared about, the one that had once belonged to Cato’s mother, was delicate and thin with a small stone. She used to think of it as their real ring, the one Cato had given her when they were young — when they were naive, maybe a little foolish, and… in love.
Well, had he ever loved her? She didn’t know anymore. Some days, she wanted to believe that it had been real, that Prince was born from raw love and young passion. And then, in other days…
Well, whichever answer was correct, it was long gone.
The second ring was a thick gold band, far too flash. It had been a wedding gift from the Capitol, from President Snow himself. It had taken years for her to get the littlest bit used to the weight and the sheer size of it on her finger, and even now, it felt as foreign as the day Cato had slipped it down her knuckle.
And then there was the eternity ring, glittering with stones and carrying a promise as hollow as the words that had accompanied it the day it was placed. A symbol of forever that wasn’t ever going to last.
Luna hesitated. She could sell them — get some money out of them, perhaps give them to the nanny and let her do as she wanted with it. But the thought of any of these rings staying even close to her filled her with an overwhelming sense of disgust.
Luna pulled all three out together.
She put them all by the sink — for Cato’s ghost, maybe, if that was what was she was feeling over her shoulder.
Luna finally reached for the clothes Hunter had brought her — a fresh set of comfortable underwear, a soft bra she could easily adjust for when she needed to feed Juni or Dash, a plain button shirt… and then her eyes landed on the denim overalls.
She stopped for a moment.
They had to be as old as Hunter, just a faded reminder of days long past. She remembered the time she’d worn them while painting Hunter’s new room, with her belly stretched to the biggest it had ever been, with Teddy kicking her ribs, her biggest kicker.
Luna exhaled, tracing the fabric with her fingertips.
They were much nicer than any fancy dress those Capitol stylists pushed to her.
Luna zipped them up, adjusting the straps, and they were a little loose around the waist, but it was fine. She didn’t need them to be perfect. It was best they weren’t.
When she stepped out of the bathroom, she noticed someone had left shoes for her by the door — the practical kind, made for walking. She put them on quickly.
Her eyes stopped at open door of Blue’s room and she paused. Teddy was bent over his bookshelf, inspecting a pule of books. He picked up a couple, ran his fingers over their covers, then slipped two into Blue’s school backpack. Then moved to his unmade bed, and he grabbed his favourite stuffed animal — a blue bunny with big floppy ears. Luna’s heart softened at the sight and how careful he was.
Her boy had all the younger boys’ school backpacks beside him. Had he gone through each of their rooms for those little treasures — those small things that made them feel like themselves? Her chest tightened with both pride and pain. They would lose so many things now.
Luna knocked gently on the door, not wanting to scare him.
He turned quickly, his eyes widening as they looked at her, all worry and fear as he stood up straighter.
“I got Dash’s blankie,” he said quietly. “And a couple of toys for him and for Blue, and crayons and paper and stuff. And some books. We spread them on the backpacks and we put some in the bags. It’s not taking a lot of space, I promise.”
Luna walked over to him, brushing his messy hair back before pressing a little kiss to his temple. Her sweet boy, always so thoughtful, always so eager to take care of his brothers, even when the world seemed to be falling apart around them.
Teddy’s inhaled quickly, letting out a little sniff as he looked down at his feet, then back up at her, his voice dropped to a near whisper.
“Is he dead?” he whispered, trembling a little, clearly scared, even if he was trying to hide it.
The question felt like a full physical blow. Cato.
She took in a deep breath, trying to steady herself. She had to answer him.
Luna nodded slowly, the movement making her neck ache, but she refused to lie to him. He needed the truth, or at least what she could give him.
Teddy’s next words came out softer, almost hesitant.
“Was it you?”
Luna’s heart broke for him, just shattering in her chest. She didn’t say anything, just kissed his temple again and held him close, wanting to shield him from everything that was happening today.
There would be time for answers later. But not now.
She held out her hand, and Teddy took it without hesitation, his fingers squeezing around hers. It was something they had done so many times before — communicating through touch and gestures, something instinctive between them.
“Go,” she mouthed, pointing to the living room.
There was still something she had to do.
Teddy walked off and she moved up the second floor, checking inside the rooms for the boys, but they were already empty and a true mess inside.
So she walked to the third floor.
Williams was in there, but if he had any problem with her presence, then he didn’t say anything. He was just watching over Cato’s covered body, sat on the bed.
His presence felt oddly less threatening than the body lying under the dark covers, though the room itself was as suffocating as it felt that very first day.
There was something about Cato’s corpse made her breath lock in her throat, like a damn reminder of everything that had led them to where they were.
Luna moved to the closet without looking at either of them, and knelt before the safe, her fingers trembling just slightly as she turned the dial, the lock clicking open. She took the box of jewellery from inside, opening it, looking over the rings, necklaces, earrings and multitude of things — everything far too ornate, expensive, and garish. She could never understand why Cato had kept such gifts from the Capitol. They were as ugly as they were impractical, symbols of power she’d never cared for.
But they were valuable.
She took the box, holding it and leaving the door open, and looked for the supply of stationary paper Cato had in his drawer, taking a block and a pen.
Speaking was out of the question. Even if she could force out the words, the pain would make it unbearable. But she had to do something. The staff had families, lives beyond these walls. The cook would arrive soon with his assistant. More nannies, more people left behind in the wake of this.
She scrawled her message carefully, repeating it and spacing them apart so they could tear the note if they needed to show it to the soldiers.
Loot the house. Take anything valuable you need.
—Luna Astoria Elletra Hadley
It wasn’t much, but it was permission.
She left the paper and pen, moving down.
Williams just watched her without any interest, the bloody sword still right at his foot.
Each step felt heavier when she walked down.
Done. That was it, it was time to leave. She had to leave.
Luna made her way down the stairs, but halfway through, she hesitated. Something pulled at her as she passed the door to her studio.
She stepped inside quietly, setting the jewelry box aside as her eyes swept over the room. It had been ages since she’d sculpted anything — there was no marble waiting for her, no fresh stone to shape. Most of the materials were useless now for someone who was leaving.
But her tools were still there.
Cato had his swords. She had her carving tools.
She didn’t know where they were going, who would be there, or how long they would be running, but she needed something to defend herself and the kids.
She crossed the room and grabbed her pouch of carving tools from the desk. She checked inside — everything was still sharp and intact— before unzipping her overalls enough to strap the pack around her waist. The denim barely shifted over her body, concealing it well.
By the time Luna reached the living room, the younger boys were gathered on the couch. Juni was fast asleep in her pram, while Prince, Hunter, Teddy, and Archie stood watch over the others, and the nanny was by Dash’s side.
Blue was the first to see her. He ran to her quickly, his school backpack bouncing on his back, and Sweetie followed right after him. If the other boys weren’t asleep, she imagined they’d do the same.
“Mama,” Sweetie blurted out, looking up at her with all the worry an eight-year-old could muster. “Hunter said your throat is hurt. He said Dad did it again.”
Luna closed her eyes for a second, pressing a kiss to his temple before kneeling to do the same for Blue. Her little boy looked close to tears.
“Prince said we’re leaving,” Blue whispered. “Just us. No Dad.”
She smoothed a hand over his arm and nodded through the ache it sent through her neck, because they needed to know that. They needed to know that Cato would never be near them again, and that they were free.
Lyme stepped forward, careful in her tone.
“Children, your father is being taken into custody. Soldier Williams is watching over him upstairs. That’s why you weren’t allowed up there. Williams and Cunningham will remain here to guard him while we take you somewhere safe. Okay?”
Sweetie narrowed his eyes at Lyme, still distrustful, but Luna cupped his cheek, nodding desperately to reassure him.
It was best if they believed their father was only being taken away. Enough of them knew the truth — Teddy’s earlier question was proof enough. He and Hunter had already pieced it together, and how could they not? They had seen the state Cato had left her in!
“I told them,” Prince said suddenly drawing her attention. “That he hurt your neck and back. That’s why they’re taking him — because he hurt you today and yesterday.”
Luna exhaled slowly, and Prince just stood on his spot, his face set in a way that reminded her too much of Cato — not the monster he had become, but the boy she had once loved, with that unshakable will and who just took whatever he wanted from the world.
“Where are we going?” Teddy asked, his voice quieter than usual.
Lyme was the one to answer.
“A safe house. You’ll have your own space, and your grandmother will be there, too. She’s waiting for you.”
Teddy nodded, but his jaw was tight, his mind likely running through every possibility. Hunter was the same, arms crossed as he stood beside Archie. Luna could see the tension in all of them — their survival instincts kicking in.
Luna let go of Blue and stood up, pushing through the pain as she walked over to Juni’s pram, adjusting the blanket over her. Her baby was sleeping so soundly, just blissfully unaware of the mess around her.
Luna turned back to the boys, eyes lingering on each of them. They had to go. Now.
She raised her hand, gesturing for them to get ready. Prince nodded, already moving to the boys, waking them up and moving them, and the nanny moved into action as well, clearly nervous as she woke up the boys and set them on their way, and they followed them, though confused.
Two suitcases. One bag. A backpack for each of the boys.
That was it. That was all they had.
Luna swallowed against the ache in her throat and followed them out.
She spotted the big van already pulled out as she passed by two soldiers to step out the house, the engine humming and the boot open, ready to be loaded.
That car.
It had been bought when Blue was born — a custom made vehicle for their big family, for road trips to visit her parents, for all of them together.
She had ridden in it once.
Not even to see her parents. They never did that.
Jones was loading the bags into the back while the nanny ushered the boys inside. Prince, Hunter, and Teddy took the last row; Archie, Sweetie, and Sammy — who was already nodding off — settled in front of them. Lex and Blue were secured in their booster seats right as they drifted off.
A pair of soldiers carried boxes to the trunk — items Luna recognized from the kitchen just yesterday. Her eyes followed them for a moment before she felt movement at her side.
Jones.
He held out a diaper bag to the nanny.
“You forgot this.”
Luna watched as the nanny took it, then passed it to her as he left.
“I packed as many as I could,“ the woman said softly. "For Juni. And the pull-ups for Dash. I know he still needs them to sleep.”
Luna nodded.
The nanny unlatched Juni’s car seat from the pram, allowing a soldier to collapse the frame and slide it behind one of the seats. Juni was secured in the middle, facing the seat and her brothers, blissfully unaware of the chaos unraveling around her.
Then, the nanny stepped back, hesitating. Her eyes were shining with tears when she looked at her and then at the boys before back again.
“My parents will be worried,” she told her. “But the girls are coming… and Mr Stone and Rivers…”
Luna exhaled, watching as the woman fidgeted with her fingers, shaking like a leaf in the wind.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, voice trembling. “For everything. I love them. I really do. I’ll miss them.”
Luna reached for her, pressing the jewelry box into her hand, and put the folded stationary paper into her palm. She squeezed her fingers gently, holding them just long enough to steady her.
The nanny unfolded the note, reading it quickly before looking up, wide-eyed.
Luna just looked back at her, hoping her eyes said enough.
She already had her own jewellery. There was only so much she could take while leaving. And besides — Luna had her own money, she hadearned a lot in 15 years of sculpting. She would access it as soon as she could.
The nanny nodded, stepping back and into the house, and Lyme emerged quickly from inside, holding several blankets in her arms. She passed them to Luna.
“You all need rest,” she told her. “We packed food in the boys’ backpacks, Prince insisted. Things for the road, water, snacks, fruits… coconut water.”
A small smile tugged at Luna’s lips. They loved their coconut water.
Lyme helped her ensure the boys and Juni were buckled in correctly, tucking blankets around them as the soldiers finished their final preparations. Then, she turned to Luna.
“That’s it,” she told her. “We’re ready to leave.”
Luna took a slow breath, ignoring the dull ache in her throat.
“I can ride in the back with you,” Lyme offered. “Or with Jones, if you need a little privacy. A moment to breathe.”
Luna swallowed hard, lowering her gaze.
Lyme cleared her throat.
“Front it is,” she decided, leaving no room for argument.
Luna lingered for a moment, her eyes trailing over the house — one last look. For the first time in years, she remembered that first day.
How wrong it had felt. How she hadn’t even wanted to walk inside and just wanted to be alone.
She hadn’t even walked inside, actually. She had been carried over the threshold like an object, placed into a life she had no say in.
A damn cage of brick and luxury, where she had been kept like a pet, only allowed outside on a leash.
Cato’s house. The Capitol house.
She was leaving, and she would never come back again.
Luna inhaled sharply, gripping the car door for a second before climbing inside. She settled by the window, buckling her seatbelt, her eyes falling onto Prince, and he was already watching her, his expression unreadable — thoughtful.
Up front, she heard the car doors shut. Jones. Lyme.
Then Lyme’s voice broke the silence.
“Ready?”
Luna gave a small nod.
Prince exhaled slowly, answering for all of them.
“Ready.”
Chapter 16: Epilogue (1/5)
Summary:
Luna and her kids arrive at the safehouse. Things aren't gonna as easy as dreamed they would be.
Chapter Text
The drive felt endless.
Luna had already fed and changed Juni once, then Dash. They were so stressed. There was no humming she could do, no lullaby to soothe them, not even a kiss to their heads — her neck felt like it was one wrong move from snapping, and her throat burned like fire. All she could offer were soft strokes to their hair and gentle head pats, hoping it was enough.
Prince and Hunter were a great help with the rest of the boys, though she was fortunate they slept for most of the ride. Eventually, the exhaustion was just too much and she dozed off.
She woke with jump when the side of her head hit the window it was resting on and a bolt of pain — blinding, searing — shot down her neck and through her body, like lightening had hit her.
She sucked in a sharp breath, fingers digging into the seat under her, and a sudden wave of panic took over her mind, every muscle locking up.
It was worse than before. Everything was worse.
Her neck, her shoulder, her back... places she had forced herself to forget about were now screaming, as if she were back at stage one, or even worse.
A hand pressed over hers and she tried to turn her neck, desperate to see, but the pain was too much.
“Mama,” Prince’s hissed, urgent.
She tried to whimper, but the sound never fully formed in her. It burned all the way up, a level agony that stole even the smallest noise from her throat.
“It’s okay,” he said quickly. “It’s okay, you don’t have to move. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
Luna tried to swallow, but even that was impossible.
It fucking hurt.
She closed her eyes, forcing herself to breathe through the pain as her cheeks felt wet.
They were in the car. The kids were asleep. She couldn’t wake them. She wouldn’t.
When had Prince moved to her side? He had been seated in the back.
“We stopped,” he told her softly. “That’s why you hit your head.”
Luna clenched her jaw, squeezing his hand as she tried to look out the window, but before she could make sense of where they were, the door of the car opened, and she flinched, gasping.
Even that was painful.
“Is everything alright?” Lyme asked, voice firm, assessing everything.
“Her neck,” Prince answered quickly.
Lyme’s breathed in deep, soundingly.
“We’re at a medical base,” she told them. “Someone will take a look at it. And at all of you.”
Prince turned to face her fully right away.
“We’re fine,” he said. “We’re not leaving her.”
Lyme exhaled, and Luna could hear her voice softening, like it always did when she spoke to the boys.
“You don’t have to leave her. We’ll all go together. I’ll stay with you.”
Luna closed her eyes and patted Prince’s hand lightly, reassuring him the best she could.
They had to go. It was best if they followed.
Gathering the boys was an effort.
Lyme settled Juni into her stroller, and Luna was surprised when Jones pulled Dash’s stroller from the back of the car — she hadn’t even known they had packed it. He attached the two at the side like he knew exactly how stroller was made. Both her babies were just fast asleep, little chests rising and falling peacefully, like nothing had happened and the world was at peace.
The older boys took over the younger ones, each grabbing a little hand and keeping them close. Jones and Lyme led the way inside, while two soldiers trailed behind them, as if escorting criminals instead of children.
Someone approached Lyme, speaking something in a low voice to her. She nodded sharply.
“Thank you,” she said before turning to Luna.
She moved her eyes to her, forcing herself to sit up as straight as possible to avoid the worst of the pain.
“Your mother is on her way,” Lyme told her, her tone gentler than before.
Luna exhaled sharply, blinking when her eyes sudden turned blurry and her eyes stung.
Mum was coming.
Mum was coming and… she was going to see her like this?
She tightened her fingers on the stroller handle, feeling them shaking, and they stopped at a door guarded by a pair of soldiers. The two barely spared them a glance as Lyme pushed it open, gesturing for the boys to get inside.
Prince stood at the threshold, letting Sammy’s hand go and ushering the younger boy inside, and she could see his lips counting them one by one as they came in. It was only when he stepped in, waiting for them at the door, and Lyme pointed the way to Luna to come in too.
Jones followed for a few steps before stopping before turning his back to stand guard at the door, quiet as ever.
Luna wasn’t sure if that made her feel safer or more unsettled.
The doors shut behind them, and her eyes landed on a woman across the room. She had just been smiling at the boys, looking very warm and sweet — until she saw Luna.
The smile faltered.
She forced it back, but Luna had seen the moment of hesitation, the flash of something — pity, most likely.
Before she could dwell on it, another door opened, and two more people stepped in, their eyes scanning their little group.
“You must be the Hadleys,” the first woman greeted, trying to keep her smile on her face.
Prince came quickly to Luna’s side, and she could see from the corner of her eyes as he squared up.
The woman still smiled warmly, her voice gentle.
“I’m Doctor Sara, but you can all just call me Sara. I heard you had a very long trip from another city.”
Luna felt a small body press against her side, arms wrapping around her waist, and reached down, smoothing a hand over Blue’s hair as he tucked himself behind her.
“You must be very tired,” Dr Sara continued, her tone soft. “So we’ll be quick, okay? Just a routine check-up to make sure everyone is alright. And we’ll take a good look at your mother too.”
“She’s hurt,” Sweetie said firmly somewhere beyond Prince, sounding very stubborn.
Doctor Sara nodded, glancing up at Luna, and she could see how hard she was trying to keep a straight face.
“I know,” Sara acknowledged. “Commander Lyme told us. But I’m sure your mama wants to make sure you’re all okay, too. Right?”
Luna exhaled, shifting slightly. The boys instinctively moved with her, rounding close, little hands seeking hers out. They had seen doctors before, but this… it was different.
Dr Sara offered them a gentle smile.
“How about one of you go first?” she suggested. “And I’ll show how it is, and you let my friend help, too?”
A man stepped up to her side, giving them all a soft smile.
“I’m Doctor Martin,” he introduced himself, his gaze sweeping over the boys with quiet attentiveness. “I assist Doctor Madison.”
Good. At least they had enough people to care for the children properly. That was something.
Luna reached for Prince’s hand quickly, giving it a squeeze.
The others always followed his lead. If he went first, they would do it without questioning.
Her eldest stepped forward quietly, standing tall despite how tense his shoulders looked, and she could clearly see the anxiety in his eyes.
“She can’t speak,” Prince said firmly. “And I’m not leaving her.”
Doctor Sara didn’t so much as blink.
“Of course,” she agreed easily. “We’ll do it here, don’t worry. And you are…?”
“Prince,” he answered.
Martin retrieved a tablet, looking for something for too long of a time, and Luna saw the shift in her son’s jaw when he realised it.
“They call me Cato at school,” he mumbled. “And in the Reapings.”
Martin nodded, tapping the information into his tablet.
“Prince… and Cato,” he repeated, glancing up at him. “Do you prefer one over the other?”
Prince hesitated, shifting slightly on his feet.
“Prince,” he said at last. “But they don’t call me that outside.”
Doctor Sara’s face softened.
“Well, we’ll call you Prince here.”
It hurt it in her heart when he squared his shoulders, as if bracing for something horrible.
Instead, Doctor Sara gave him the kidest smile and gestured for Prince to sit on the examination table, and he hesitated only for a moment before taking the seat, still all stiff, but his eyes focused right on Luna as everyone watched.
“First, I’m going to listen to your heart,” she held up a stethoscope, and moved it to his chest, under his shirt. “I’ll just listen here for a moment. You might feel a little cold, but it won’t hurt.”
Prince nodded stiffly, but Luna could see the tension in his posture ease a little as Doctor Sara continued, her voice as calming as a stranger could be.
She knew how to work with kids, Luna had to give her that.
“Now I’m going to listen to your back,” the doctor continued, moving it. “You’ll feel it on your shoulders for just a second… if you can take a deep breath in for me…”
Prince inhaled deeply, his shoulders rising, and then released the breath slowly as Doctor Sara listened, her eyes flicking to the small screen on her tablet as she noted something down.
“Good,” she said, her smile faint but encouraging. “You’re doing great.”
Luna petted Blue’s hair and rubbed a little back in her reach, though unable to see which one of her boys was by her side.
She reached for her pocket, taking a thermometer.
“Now, I’m just going to check your temperature,” he placed it in his ear, the device giving a quiet beep a few seconds after. “Perfect. Everything looks normal.”
She continued on, describing every activity very gently as the boys listened along. She checked for reflexes — and explained why and how she did it — weighted him, checked his height — Luna’s exact height, to the last inch — and checked his abdomen while Martin took notes.
When it came to his arm, Doctor Sara cleaned it very carefully, checking for any shards or anything wrong, before applying fresh dressings to his cuts.
“And we’re finished,” she declared with a bright smile, looking at the kids before she turned to Prince. “What do you think? Was it alright?”
Prince nodded.
“Perfectly fine,” he mumbled.
Doctor Sara beamed at Luna, her expression soft even if her eyes were full of pity.
“A very healthy young man,” she affirmed. “Just some scrapes, nothing to worry about.”
Luna exhaled a breath she hadn’t realised she was holding. Good. That was very good.
The room fell into quiet as Doctor Sara moved on to the next child — Hunter, then Teddy, Archie, and the rest. Luna stayed close, watching each one with her heart still racing, the pain keeping her as still as a board.
She was just weighing Lex when the door opened a bit and Jones peeked into the room to look at Lyme.
“Mrs Elletra is here,” he announced. “May I let her in?”
Luna inhaled deeply, closing her eyes as a shiver ran through her, her lower lip trembling. Her eyes filled with tears once again.
Mum didn’t know anything.
She didn’t know about Cato’s behaviour. The yelling and breaking things, the outbursts, the way he’d controlled everything...
She didn’t know how badly their marriage had fallen apart.
The one time she had a chance to tell her mother, to share the truth about how Cato had hurt her — physically and emotionally — she had lied instead. And now, after over two years apart, the first sight her mother would have of her would be this, this broken shell of a person, covered in bruises, unable to turn her neck or speak.
“I’ll go speak to her,” Lyme said quickly, and she gave Luna a short look. “And I’ll come in with her.”
Luna could only lower her eyes, unable to respond or to do anything but sit there, small and powerless.
She had never felt this helpless her whole fucking life.
Prince reached for her hand right away, squeezing it gently.
“It’s okay, mama,” he mumbled. “I can talk for you.”
Luna squeezed his hand in return, but she could hardly acknowledge the comfort he was offering.
The two doctors exchanged a glance but said nothing, and Doctor Sara turned her attention back to Sammy, who had just finished his examination.
“You are a very tall and strong boy!” she exclaimed with a smile, very bright. “You have to tell me what you eat!”
“Mama’s food!” Sammy announced proudly, his chest puffing out with pride. “She makes the best food!”
Doctor Sara chuckled, glancing up at Luna.
“Well, that does not surprise me!” she affirmed. “Look at all of you, you’re all very healthy! I have never seen a group of so many healthy brothers.”
The compliment, though kind, did little to ease Luna’s heart. She gave the woman a tight smile, fingers tightening around the edge of the chair as Lex stood up with an eager expression on his face.
“And how may I call you, young Mister?” Doctor Sara asked, her tone soft and inviting.
“I’m Lex,” he answered confidently. “My teacher calls me Alexander.”
Doctor Sara nodded warmly, patting the seat in front of her.
“And when were you born, Lex?”
Lex frowned for a moment, deep in thought and after a beat, his face lit up.
“The 30th of June!” he declared proudly as if he had just solved a grand mystery. “Of eighty…”
He paused, squinting as he tried to work through the numbers in his mind, and Luna raised three fingers discreetly, and Lex caught the hint.
Eighty-three.
He always mixed it up with eighty-two.
“Eighty-three,” he corrected himself with a satisfied grin. “I turned six last month!”
Doctor Sara’s eyes widened in surprise, clearly impressed.
“Six? And you are that tall and smart?” she asked, voice just filled with genuine affection. “Wow, that is awesome!”
Lex beamed, soaking in the praise, his chest puffing out with pride, and for a moment, Luna felt a bit of warmth in her chest as she smiled at little at him.
“Alright, Lex, let’s check on that strong heart,” Doctor Sara continued, pressing the stethoscope gently against his chest. She listened for a moment and then nodded approvingly. “Just as I thought, a very strong heart. Excellent.”
She shifted it to his back.
“Take a big breath for me,” she instructed softly.
Lex inhaled deeply, his shoulders rising, before letting the air out in a slow exhale.
“Perfect. One more time,” she encouraged, her voice calm and steady.
Luna shifted slightly, reaching down with her good arm to rub Blue’s back. He had somehow climbed into her lap, clinging to her tightly, his little hands grasping at her overalls. She ran gentle circles along his spine, but his body was still tense against her. Her poor boy was terrified.
“You’re next, Blue,” Prince said gently.
Blue shook his head immediately, whining.
“No,” he mumbled, pressing his face against Luna’s chest. “I don’t want to.”
She looked down at him, wincing when she tried to do so.
Luna glanced down at him, wincing as the movement pulled at her neck. She knew this reaction all too well. Blue hated change. He hated strangers. And more than anything, he hated people touching him.
He was just like her.
Luna's heart twisted as Blue clung to her, his small hands gripping her shoulder desperataly. She couldn’t speak — couldn’t even form words to comfort him. The air she tried to push out of her throat came out in a barely audible sound, andthe pain in her neck and shoulder was so sharp that if she could have screamed, it would have been a cry of agony worse than anything she had cried during labour.
Blue’s small sobs filled the space instead, his little body trembling in her lap, unwilling to let go, and her eyes filled up with tears of pain in many ways.
"I want Mama!"
Prince reached for him, but Blue resisted with every ounce of his strength.
"No! I want mama!"
His hands tightened on Luna's shoulder, tried to hold him a little more firmly, doing her best to calm him while holding her pain, pushing Prince away.
Hunter was quick to step in, kneeling in front of Blue.
“Hey, hey,” he said softly, reaching out to try to steady his little brother. “Blue… Blue, mama’s hurt, okay? Mama is hurt.”
Luna could barely focus on the words. She wanted to tell Hunter to stop guilt-tripping Blue. Of course he was misbehaving, he was four and fucking terrified!
But she was in so much pain, and they were pulling and pulling and all she could go was try to hold herself together, squeezing the edges of her seat and squeeze her eyes shut.
“I want Mama!” Blue repeated, his voice louder and piercing her ears.
Prince reached out to take one of Blue’s hands, but her boy only squeezed Luna tighter, burying his face in her neck.
“The doctor needs to see Mama,” Prince explained, trying to reason with him. “And we need to help her. You’re not helping!”
Luna could feel every inch of the battle inside of her boy. He was scared and stressed and confused, and it was all directed at the one person who could comfort him: her. Prince and Hunter couldn’t understand that — they were too young, they weren’t Blue’s parents, they were his brothers and still children.
So with the energy she still had left, Luna shifted Blue in her arms, pulling him close to her chest, and she closed her eyes as he clung to her, tiny body shaking with big sobs.
She used her free hand to push Prince and Hunter away and give Blue the space he needed, even if her own body screamed with the effort. Her neck was burning, she couldn't move her shoulders, but she didn’t resist. If she had to hold him through it all, then she would.
Blue was four, and reasoning with him would do nothing. She knew that. So, even as she not even breathe, she held him.
“We can give him a moment,” Doctor Sara spoke up, making Luna look up at her. “Your… second youngest?”
She reached for Hunter blindly, patting his arm, urging him to go help them, and he was the one to make his way to Dash in his stroller.
Her baby boy clung to Hunter right away when he picked him up, small arms wrapping tightly around his older brother, and Doctor Sara’s smile was reassuring as she looked at her brave boy.
“You’ll be my assistant now, I see,” she told him, still cheerful and encouraging.
Hunter nodded shyly, still tense, but Luna could see the way his shoulders relaxed a bit as he adjusted Dash in his arms for her to press the stethoscope to his chest, the praise clearly welcomed.
At the same time, Teddy moved closer to Juni, standing protectively by her stroller, and Luna followed him with her eyes.
Oh, her sweet boy, always so protective.
“Mrs Hadley,” Doctor Martin called softly.
She crossed eyes with the man at the door, overwatching them — a soldier? A nurse? A superior? She wouldn’t know, he hadn’t introduced himself.
“We’re going to need to examine you, after,” he informed her, looking at her boy. “Fully.”
Her throat tightened as she swallowed hard, her hand moving to stroke Blue’s hair to calm him, grounding herself and him.
Yes. Yes, she knew.
She would have to leave Blue eventually, but he would need to be calm.
Luna had to hold her breath as she forced herself to stand up, every movement sending more pain through her body.
It felt like her neck was about to snap any time now, and she had to bite down the agony, focusing on Blue, his tiny fingers digging into her as if letting go would mean losing his mother forever.
She stroked his hair again, seeing how much her hand was trembling, and her eyes burned, blurry, and she swallowed her tears down.
She wasn’t a stranger to pain, she had brought all nine of her boys into this world on her own.
But this was worse. It made her want to fall down and fucking crumble. She needed to rest against the wall to keep straight.
So she comforted him, shifting from side to side as best as she could, patting his little back and petting his hair as she felt the doctors watching them.
It took quite a bit of time to calm him. They finished with Dash and moved on to Juni, and having to watch from afar was even more of a nightmare.
The doctors handled her youngest carefully, but it didn’t matter. They were strangers, touching her baby, measuring her, moving her tiny limbs, and Luna had to sit there and watch. Helpless.
“That’s a good baby,” Doctor Sara hummed as Juni looked up at her, her big eyes very curious. “And when was this beautiful girl with so many brothers born?” she looked at Luna.
The other doctor moving to her, supporting Blue with one hand for her to free at least one of her own and signal with a bit of difficulty, trying to make a J on the air for June.
“July?” Hunter guessed.
“June?” the doctor corrected, glancing at Luna.
She confirmed with a hand and raised a single finger. The first.
“The first of June?” she asked, seeming surprised. “Two months and… a week.”
Nine weeks old, her girl, yes.
“Well, aren’t you a big girl?” Doctor Sara cooed, her voice soft. “We rarely see them this big at your age.”
Luna watched her attentively, replacing the doctor’s hand on Blue’s back with her own, taking a moment to give him full attention.
His breaths were slower now, and his body was heavy against hers, finally fast asleep. He didn’t even flinch and or push that unfamiliar hand away.
Luna let out a breath, shaking. At least for now, he was at peace.
Prince stepped to her, offering his arms to take him, but it was Luna who walked to the table, just pointing with her chin for him to take Juni, and her oldest did, adjusting her with more ease than many parents.
Doctor Sara weighed them both together, then hesitated slightly before offering Luna a tablet.
“You can write his birthday down,” she said gently. “His name and any other details.”
Luna couldn’t nod, but she took the opportunity to type the information down. His birthday — 1st of January of the 85th, her New Year baby — his name and his nickname…
Her fingers hovered over the next section. Known conditions.
Blue had a known condition, as Luna had a known condition.
Doctor Sara’s voice was soft when she spoke again.
“Is it an allergy?”
She looked at her, finding Doctor Sara smiling sweetly.
“Or… more… developmental?”
She mouthed her answer. Developmental, yes.
The door opened, and every head turned as Mum stepped in after Lyme, and for a moment — just a single little moment — the world... stopped.
She stood there, completely still.
Luna felt something tighten in her chest.
She wanted to run to her, to throw herself into her arms like a child, like Blue had just done. Bury her face in her mother’s shoulder and cry until the weight of everything was gone, because mama had her.
She wanted to beg her to make things better.
But she couldn’t move.
She could only stare.
Two whole years.
Two years apart.
Dash had been just a baby the last time they saw each other. Blue had just finished his doctor’s rounds, his diagnosis still fresh, and Cato... Cato had been all frustration and restless energy.
Luna knew he would have made it into the loudest of complaints if her mother wasn’t there. He would talk all about how she’d finally done it, how she’d made a kid as defective as her.
But Mum was home, and Mum protected her, even if she didn’t know that.
“Grandma!”
One of the boys shouted it first, and then the others followed — the older ones, the ones who remembered her.
They ran to her without even thinking, voices overlapping, excited as Luna just watched, holding Blue closer, feeling Lex press against her side, half-hidden behind her, shy.
When mum finally spoke, her voice was warm, but Luna could hear she was holding back everything.
“Hello, hello, everyone,” she smiled to them, clearly forcing the expression. “Hi. I’m so sorry, I… I had to talk to Lyme, but I’m here now.”
She’s been crying, Luna could see. Her eyes were red-rimmed, the skin beneath them was pink.
“Let’s… let’s all sit down,” Mum instructed, her voice steady but gentle. “We can all talk, but I’m here to help your mother, okay? She needs a…”
She trailed off, looking up at Luna.
For a moment, everything flashed across her face — worry and understanding and pain — but then she smiled.
“She needs a hand,” she finished at last.
The boys complied easily, settling down without argument.
“Mrs Hadley?” Doctor Sara’s voice pulled Luna’s attention back. “The known conditions?”
Luna swallowed, her throat tightening and aching as Mum cleared her own.
“Is there anything I can help with?” she offered.
It almost felt like when she was young — when she lost her words and Mum would step like a walking dictionary, understanding her signals without needing to ask.
Doctor Sara glanced down at the tablet.
“It seems… Orion... Blue. It seems he has a known condition?
Mum nodded slowly.
“Yes,” she confirmed. “I know.”
“And that would be…?”
Mum breathed in, and Luna could see the flash of guilt on her face.
It did run on the family, it didn’t start with Luna. Well, not this one.
“It’s… uh… Developmental Variance Syndrome,” she said, clearing her throat. “The Social-Communication subtype.”
Doctor Sara nodded, making note of it without comment, though she gave Luna a short glance.
“He’s smart,” Prince jumped in, defensive. “He just doesn’t like strangers or change.”
Mum reached for him without thinking, taking his hand and squeezing it.
“Exactly,” she agreed. “He’s a very smart boy. He reads at the same level as Sammy. And Sammy’s a big reader.”
Sammy beamed with pride at the praise, and Doctor Sara gave them a tight but understanding smile.
“And has anything changed with the repetitive behaviours and sensory sensitivities since his diagnosis?” she asked, looking at him.
Luna's first instinct was to shake her head, but a bolt of pain just shot over her, and all she could do was grimace and grab the table, the only sound she could produce was an sharp breath.
“It’s alright,” Doctor Sara said quickly,. “That’s not important right now. We can go over those details when he starts school. For now, if you stand still, we can use the tablet to measure his height without putting him down.”
Luna exhaled slowly but complied. It wasn’t like she had much of a choice —standing still was about all she could manage.
Doctor Sara circled around her, carefully scanning and measuring Blue in sections before seeming satisfied.
“He’s somewhere between 110 cm and 112 cm,” she declared. “Quite the tall boy. We’ll subtract your weight from his to get an accurate measurement, but visually, he appears to be in a healthy range.”
Luna took a deep breath, relieved. That was good. Most of her boys leaned on the taller side, except for Sweetie — and he was perfectly average for his age.
The room fell into silence as it seemed that every eye fell on Luna.
It was her turn.
Lyme cleared her throat, breaking the silence that had settled over them.
“Alright, kids,” she called slowly, her voice very careful. “We’ll need a little bit of privacy now. For your mum.”
“Privacy?” Hunter repeated, turning to her.
Both Prince, Hunter and Ted all glared at her as if she was saying the most absurd of things.
“She needs to be examined,” Lyme explained, keeping her tone patient. “The doctors will need space.”
“From us?” Prince asked defensive as his body tensed up, ready to fight.
Luna squeezed her eyes shut, taking in a deep breath, far too overwhelmed to even find words to interrupt them. It was Mum who finally spoke, firm and not giving him space to fight her, in that way she did with the twins all the time.
“They’ll need to look at her,” she explained, emphatic. “Fully.”
But Prince didn’t even budge, clenching his fists at his sides, holding himself in place.
“I’m not leaving her alone!” her oldest fought back.
“Of course not,” Mum replied quickly, as if the thought of Luna being alone was absurd. “That’s why I’m here. And Lyme will help you watch over your brothers with Soldier Jones. No one is going to be alone.”
Her words hung in the air, the room quieting as the tension slowly eased, but the worry in Prince’s eyes didn't go away.
“You can set Juniper and Dash in their strollers, and everyone will watch out for one another,” Mum said firmly, moving to the boys and pulling them along with barely any resistance, not showing a hint of worry in her demeanour or even new to managing kids. “Prince, you can keep an eye on Lex while Hunter holds Blue. And Ted and Archie can watch Sweetie and Sammy.”
“I don’t need to be watched!” Sweetie protested, his little voice rising in defiance. “I’m a big boy!”
Mum raised her eyebrows and simply nodded.
“Of course,” she agreed with a soft smile. “So you’ll help make sure your little brothers stay seated and wait for us, alright? Lyme is going to help, and we’ll be outside in just a minute. But you need to go. The doctors are going to help your mother.”
Sweetie hesitated, his wide eyes searching Luna’s face, and she tried her best to smile, offering him a reassuring expression. It wasn’t easy to push past the pain to comfort him, but she did, watching as each of the boys came to her for a kiss before they left. Luna kissed their temples and hands as she could, her heart heavy, but she tried to mask it with the best calm she could muster.
Handing Blue over to Hunter was the hardest part. Her little boy clung to her, his small hands squeezed her like he knew something was wrong even in his sleep. But Hunter took him gently, and Luna watched him carry her son away, trying to hide the anxiety growing inside her chest. Prince made sure both Juni and Dash were comfortable in their strollers before Mum moved them, adjusting the blankets and setting the stroller to face a wall – away from Luna.
The boys left and the door closed, and it felt like her body had been waiting that whole time to crumble. Her legs buckled under her, her muscles softened, and Luna had to brace herself against the bed so as to not fall, feeling the familiar burn of pain lacing through her body.
Mum was there right away, reaching for her and catching her before she fell down, and a slice of moment, the mask of calm she had been wearing slipped from her face, and she could see pure horror in her. But the moment passed quickly, and she just straightened up and helped her stand fully.
One of the doctors slipped out of the room without a word, and Doctor Sara was left standing still, face tight as her eyes ran over Luna.
She flexed her fingers, opening and closing her hand as if she was trying to ground herself, before forcing a small, strained smile onto her lips.
“Could you confirm your—” she started, then paused again, glancing at Mum. “Her full name and date of birth?”
Mum breathed in.
“Luna Astoria Elettra Hadley,” she said, the last name leaving her mouth with clear displeasure. “Born on the 21st of November of the 55th.”
Thirty-three. This was what she was at thirty-three. What a life.
The doctor just hummed along, taking her notes.
“Any underlying conditions we should be aware of? Diabetes, blood pressure issues, stomach issues—”
Luna looked away and Mum took in a deep breath.
“Developmental Variance Syndrome,” she said, her voice measured but uncomfortable. “Social-Communication subtype. No intellectual loss.”
Doctor Sara looked straight at her, just completely shocked.
It always went the same way. People treated her normally until they saw her file. Then, suddenly, she was twenty years younger in their eyes, spoken to in slow, careful voices, wrapped in layers of unnecessary sweetness. Or worse, they stopped addressing her entirely, turning instead to whatever non-diagnosed adult was nearby as if she had simply disappeared and wasn’t a fully realised adult.
The room fell into silence for a long stretch before Doctor Sara cleared her throat — a forced attempt to shake off her impression of her.
"Well, Mrs Hadley… why don’t we start with that weighting?" she decided, almost too high-pitched, gesturing to the scale. "And measuring."
Luna moved, bit it really felt more like something else was moving her, just pulling her strings and making her go.
She stepped away from Mum, forcing herself to breathe and each step took every effort she could put on it, just staring foward as the machine beeped and scanned her.
“170 centimetres and… 43 kilograms,” Doctor Sara announced slowly, carefully, as though speaking the numbers any differently might soften their reality.
Luna forced herself to swallow as Mum took a sharp breath, quiet.
That wasn’t surprising, was it?
She’d always been small after she married. A little too small. Too frail to fight back, always small enough for Cato to throw her around as he liked.
“That makes Orion 21 kilograms,” she decided, stepping away, and writing it down.
It was why he kept her so fucking stressed she couldn’t swallow more food than what she needed to feed Juni.
"We can certainly work on that," she said, though there was no conviction in her voice. "And... you can strip now, please. I’ll go take a robe."
Luna swallowed hard, the sting of humiliation crawling beneath her skin. She barely heard the words as her mind raced, the dread filling her belly . Mum was already at her side, moving closer and Luna felt her hand on her hair, the gentle motion almost like a reflex, and the warmth of her mother’s touch offered a small comfort amid the chaos of her thoughts.
It took Luna a moment to register what Mum was doing — carefully twisting her hair, attempting to move it out of the way. It should have been comforting, but it wasn’t. If Luna could speak, she would tell her to just cut it.
She hated all that hair, she didn’t need it.
"Do you want my help, baby?" Mum asked softly.
It hit Luna harder than she expected.
Baby.
Thirty-three years old, and she was still ‘baby’ to her mother. Two younger siblings and ten kids later, she was still just baby.
Her eyes filled up with tears again before she could stop them and she had to blink them away again hastly so she would not just break fucking down then and then.
Luna reached for the side of her overalls, trembling as she managed to unzip them, sliding the straps down her shoulders and letting the fabric fall to the floor. Her fingers fumbled for the buttons of her shirt, blindingly trying to find them, and got one undone before the ache in her shoulder became too much, and Mum was the right after, helping her pull it off.
Luna barely had the energy to resist or do the rest, her body was just too tired to do anything but submit as she took it off and then unclicked the pouch with her sculpting tools from her waist.
The room was completely still, deadly quiet as if even the air was holding its breath, and then Mum gasped at the sight of her back uncovered, apparently the straw to break the camel’s back for her.
Luna hadn’t seen her own back. She hadn’t wanted to, so she had left it, forgotten it. In the great circle of pain in her, the sting of the glass cuts was just a little thing.
She didn’t realise Doctor Sara was back until the woman was at her side, holding out a blue robe, her voice soft.
"Cover your front, and I’ll take a look at your back."
She complied, pulling the fabric as best as she could before Mum helped her, hiding at least part of her body before helping her move nearer to the table, unclasping her bra and pushing it away from her back.
“We’ll need to take photos of everything,” Doctor Sara informed her. “We won’t show your face, but we need this.”
Luna didn't acknowledge her, just focused on her breathing. Of course they needed photos. As if it wasn’t enough to feel exposed in front of her mother, now they were going to document it all.
But she didn’t care to wait for her permission or anything, the doctor just moved.
“You have seven lacerations on your back that appear to be from broken glass or a mirror,” Doctor Sara stated in a detached, clinical tone. “One of them is stitched, and three others were treated with butterfly band-aids. We’ll need to provide you with disinfectant over the next few days to keep it clean. Stay still, please.”
Luna held her breath she waited, still as the cold air hit her exposed skin. It as like she was a subject, one of her muses, being photographed into a moment to be remembered.
“On your lower back there’s a bruise in the shape of a shoe, possibly a boot and from being stepped on. Stay still, please.”
Mum turned around to face the wall, covering her mouth with her hands, and Luna lowered her eyes as the photo was taken.
They went through everything — bruises Luna didn’t even know she had, wounds she couldn’t recall, all meticulously noted and recorded. When the doctor reached her neck, Luna winced, every touch sending another wave of pain that radiated through her, but she stayed still, biting her cheek to keep from making a sound.
The doctor’s voice softened just slightly as she murmured a ’probably internal damage’ to her notes.
Well, no shit. Why did she think talking hurt so much?
And then Doctor Sara moved to the front, and Luna endured it, breathing through it.
The claim about not taking pictures of her face had been a lie. They documented every bruise, every wound, and even her eye — Cato had broken a vessel, which explained the blood she saw in the mirror.
When she thought it was finally over, she covered herself, but Doctor Sara just looked at her with pity.
“You can step into the machine now,” she told her.
Luna didn’t have the strength to resist. She let them guide her to the next room and the two men were behind a wall, a mess of cables running from their monitors to the large machine waiting for her.
Dread crawled up her spine as she stared at it.
Mum helped her into position, adjusting the robe tightly around her before stepping back.
Doctor Sara’s voice was almost robotic as she pressed buttons.
“The fabric won’t interfere with the scan. Stand still, and the machine will catalogue your internal injuries — any bones out of place or broken, any organ damage sustained during... the process.”
Yes, the process. That was the best way to describe the act of being beaten up two inches away from death by her husband before being forced to kill him.
Luna closed her eyes and took a deep breath as the machine got louder around her. It expanded, encasing her whole body, scanning every cell, every injury.
“I’ll get the braces,” Martin said suddenly. “Neck and arm.”
“Yes,” Doctor Sara confirmed.
Luna exhaled slowly, waiting. Breathing. Waiting more. It was what she could do. Until, at last, it was over.
Mum was there right after and not a second late, helping her back into the other room. The moment they were alone, she pulled Luna’s shirt into place, buttoning it up before grabbing her pouch pack, securing it around her waist, and pulling up her overalls to hide it.
Luna mouthed her the word: Protection.
They were surrounded by strangers, and she had kids to protect. It was what she had.
“I know,” Mum whispered. “I wish I’d been smart enough to take something more than clothes when I packed up and left home.”
Luna stilled.
When had she left home? Permanently.
Where even were they? What town was this? Which region?
Where was Dad? Juno? Jupiter?
She didn’t know anything.
“We’re in our town,” Mum whispered, zipping her overalls. “Your father was recruited weeks ago. Your sister volunteered a week later because they didn’t have enough people. I haven’t had news of either of them since.”
Luna stared at her.
“Lyme managed to contact me,” Mum whispered, voice thickening for a moment. “Said you needed me.”
Her eyes filled with tears, but she blinked them away, hands adjusting Luna’s clothes like she could fix something — anything — if she just smoothed out the fabric enough.
The door opened, and they both fell silent as Doctor Sara returned, accompanied by the other one — the man who still hadn’t introduced himself.
“I have good news,” she announced, though it sounded more like a question. “And bad news.”
Well, the surprising part was that there was good news at all. So that was good.
Luna watched her quietly, searching for her left hand to play with her fingers and paused. She wasn’t wearing any rings anymore.
“You have laryngeal trauma,” she began, her voice measured. “A severe bruise. It will hurt to swallow and speak for a while, but you don’t need medical intervention — just immobilisation and rest.”
She waited, quiet.
“You also have a severe rib contusion, which will make breathing painful for some time. When I saw the shoe mark…” Doctor Sara hesitated, “…I was afraid there might be spinal damage, but — well — you were lucky.”
Luna stared at her. Lucky?
Of course. This was a great strike of luck.
“You have a partial dislocation in your shoulder, and we’ll need to evaluate for nerve damage, but we can’t do that right now,” she continued. “You’ll need to keep it in a sling for a while,” a pause. “I truly don’t know how you were holding the kids through this. I... I mean, this is—”
Luna kept staring.
Painful. Yes.
Very painful.
Doctor Sara studied her face, her expression softening.
“If you could give me your finger, please?” she asked gently.
Luna placed her hand on the table, waiting as the doctor clipped a small device onto her finger. The room fell into silence, Mum watching them closely.
Finally, Doctor Sara spoke again, taking it away.
“Another piece of good news — your breathing and circulation are both normal, so you don’t need oxygen therapy.”
“What does she need?” Mum interrupted.
Doctor Sara turned to her, hesitating, swallowing.
“Rest,” she said simply. “And pain management.”
“Morphling?” Mum asked softly.
Doctor Sara shifted, uncomfortable.
“Well, under normal circumstances, yes,” she admitted. “But we’re having some… difficulties obtaining it. I can provide an alternative, though it’s not as potent. And the supply is limited.”
“How long will she be able to take it?” Mum pressed.
Luna watched as the woman’s face fell a little.
“A week,” she said. “It will help with the worst of it.”
“But not all of it,” Mum added coolly.
Doctor Sara looked away.
“It will help with the worst of it,” she repeated as if trying to convince herself. “We can’t afford to splurge, Mrs…?”
“Elletra,” Mum supplied, her voice cold.
Doctor Sara met her eyes.
“Mrs Elletra, I’m doing the best I can to help.”
“And the best you can do is some weak pain medication for seven days?”
Doctor Sara stared at them, her expression pained.
“It’s not weak,” she corrected, her voice careful. “But Mrs. Hadley’s case is… complicated.”
Luna looked away.
Complicated.
“I recommend rest. Plenty,” she affirmed. “A rich diet, focusing on nurturing her and the children. I suspect Juniper is breastfed?”
Luna mouthed a yes.
“And Dash?”
Another silent confirmation.
“Good,” Doctor Sara whispered, relieved. “A rich diet focusing on nurturing you and the two children, privacy, and rest. We can give you an injection now, and we’ll deliver the tablets to your home daily. You are to take them every eight hours, and it does not sip into breastmilk, so it is safe for the children.”
Lune squinted at her, trying to read between the lines.
Daily.
So if anything happened, they could cut off her medication for something else. Someone else, probably — someone more important.
Doctor Sara attempted a reassuring smile, but it barely reached her eyes, unsettled and strained.
“I’m certain your children are going to be excited to see you, and that little boy will be awake and hungry soon,” she gestured to Dash. “But before you go, I do recommend you restrain from lifting them. Juniper is fine, but Odysseus might cause you some pain and… well, the other children might cause your situation to worsen.”
Luna stared at her, raising her eyebrows.
Did this woman have children? Did she see Blue?
How exactly was she supposed to keep a house full of children in check without lifting, carrying, or holding them? Did Doctor Sara think they would just sit quietly and behave because she said so?
“I know it is… hard,” she spoke slowly.
Luna exhaled sharply through her nose.
Hard? That was one way to put it. Impossible was another.
Nine boys, each with their own needs, their own chaos, their own way of climbing into her lap without a second thought. Blue alone would make sure she never got a moment's rest, and Dash was still so little — he wouldn’t understand why she suddenly couldn’t hold him the way she always had.
But Luna didn’t argue. She just stared at Doctor Sara, pressing her lips together as the woman tried to offer a reassuring smile.
"Maybe reserving cuddling to bed and sitting positions," she suggested. As if that would make a difference. “They do look very cuddly.”
The door creaked open, and Doctor Martin stepped inside, not even being able to close it before the boys rushed in after them, running to her.
“Mama!” Lex called, wide eyed. “Are you better now?”
Luna exhaled, softening, and she called him closer to her with her hand. Lex climbed onto her lap without even thinking, little body right against her chest as she stifled a wince as he clung to her. Sweetie was quick to follow, taking her free arm and holding it tightly.
“Did you help her?” he asked fiercly.
Doctor Sara smiled sweetly at them.
“We’re giving your mother some medication in a minute,” she explained, “and Doctor Martin just brought something to help with her neck and arm.”
The boys turned all together, and she could see Martin moving around her from the corner of her eyes.
“Now that you're all here,” Doctor Sara spoke up, her voice firmer now, looking around the children, “I have a mission for you.”
She paused, holding up suspension, and the boys didn’t dare to speak as they waited.
“Your mother needs a lot of rest. And I really do mean a lot.”
Lex’s furrowed brow turned to the doctor, and he glanced at Luna, then back at the doctor, and Sweetie clung tighter to Luna’s arm as the doctor continued.
“She can’t pick up heavy things, or bend and twist,” Doctor Sara explained, her tone gentle but firm. “And she has to be very careful when playing with you kids. No running, no jumping, okay?”
Lex and Sweetie both nodded seriously.
Doctor Sara glanced at Luna with a soft smile before turning back to the boys.
“I know Grandma’s here to help out. You’ll need to listen to her, alright?” she told them. “It’s a big change, but we’re doing what’s best for your mother. So while your mother is recovering, Grandma Loba is in charge.”
The boys nodded all together, and Luna pressed a kiss to Lex’s hair. Oh, that was going to be quite hard.
“You have to remember, she can only take the brace off to shower,” she informed them. “Same thing for the shoulder brace. All of them will need to stay on for the next two weeks, nonstop.”
The boys nodded emphatically, but Luna couldn’t help but feel a heavy weight in her chest as she pressed a soft kiss to Lex’s head. This was going to be so hard.
“I’ll come see her after that, and we’ll figure out what to do next,” Doctor Sara told them. “But until then, no letting her move her head side to side,” she demonstrated gently, “or up and down...” she showed it again. “She can only pick up your baby sister and little brother. If you want to give her a cuddle, it has to be sitting down and very, very gentle.”
The room fell into a quiet understanding as the boys processed this new set of rules, and Martin stepped to her.
"Alright," Martin stpped by her, leaning into Luna, and she stood straight. "I need you to stay as still as possible, okay? This won't be uncomfortable, but you might feel a little pressure…"
Prince, who had been rooted right by her side, moved closer, his bright blue eyes focused on the placing of the brace, clearly trying to learn it.
"It might feel tight at first," Martin continued. "But the brace will help protect your neck while it heals,” he shifted his focus to the children. “It'll make sure your mother doesn't hurt herself more.”
It felt like everyone was watching and trying to lean to put the brace – which was good because Luna had no idea what he was doing.
"The neck brace needs to be snug, but not too tight,” Martin informed the room. “It's important it stays in place at all times. If it shifts, it might cause more discomfort."
"Can you breathe okay?" Prince asked by her side.
Luna smiled softly, reaching blindly for his hand and pressing it to her lips.
It was fine. She was fine.
Martin continued working with the brace, moving to her arm next, slow and grand as he showed the children and her mother how to place it, step by step.
She could feel the pressure of the brace against her skin, but it wasn’t as overwhelming as before. Actually, it gave her some relief — a feeling of of being held together. It was comfortable.
She exhaled softly, allowing her body to relax into the chair, the feeling of not needing to hold her neck up welcome.
“We’ll give you the injection now,” Doctor Sara told her, breaking the quietness of the room. “And then you’ll be able to go.”
“Injection?” Lex asked, his voice full of worry again.
“For the pain,” she assured him. “It’ll help her.”
Lex immediately took her hand in both of his, squeeing.
“It’s okay, mama. We’ll hold your hand.”
“Yes!” Sweetie added, clutching her other hand.
Luna smiled at them, and she wanted nothing more than to cover them with kisses now.
Martin showed her the syringe and she braced herself as he reached for her and pushed up her sleeve up, cleaning her skin.
The pinch was barely noticeable compared to the pain she’d been holding onto, and so was the liquid pushed into her.
“And done,” Martin announced, stepping back with a satisfied smile. “A wonderful patient with wonderful helpers.”
Chapter 17: Epilogue (2/5)
Summary:
The Hadleys try to adapt to life in the Rebel Quarters.
Luna tells her mother the truth about her marriage.
The Rebels start asking for favours.
Chapter Text
They were settled into what Lyme called a ‘safe house’.
For starters, it wasn’t a house. It was an old training centre, crowded and cold, and they were placed among strangers. The soldiers had been kind enough to clear a row of five bunk beds for them — Juni could sleep in her car seat, and Dash, predictably, wasn't sleep alone, so it was fine.
And it was a small, nice enough gesture, but it didn't change the fact that they were surrounded by people who weren’t exactly welcoming.
They lasted less than twenty-four hours around other people before they had to be moved.
Luna didn’t know the people around her, but they certainly knew her. They knew her name, they knew the name of her children's father, and they could see him reflected in every single one of her boys. And they made it painfully clear.
The whispers were relentless. The stares, sharp and unforgiving. People said insults under their breath, some bolder than others. More than once, someone ‘accidentally’ bumped into one of the children and caused a little accident, their apologies insincere and their intentions unmistakable when they spoke up. The hostility was suffocating.
By morning, they were transferred.
The new quarters were quieter, seemingly reserved for officials. Lyme had arranged bunk beds inside, along with the few belongings they had. It wasn’t much, but at least they were away from the others.
Her first delivery of medicine arrived that same morning when she was trying to help the younger boys settle to sleep a bit more.
They had more privacy now, and that was good. But with it came something else — constant surveillance.
Soldiers came and went at random times, delivering updates that were rarely useful. Most of the information was irrelevant, forgotten before the next one even arrived. Luna was half-convinced that they weren’t there to inform her of anything important but rather to observe — to walk in, look around, and take mental notes of her every move.
It was absurd, there was nowhere she could go without at least two pairs of watchful eyes on her.
Two guards were always stationed at the door the whole time, unmoving. The only two windows in their quarters faced a watchtower, so beyond never being alone, they were also watched from every angle.
Even the tiny balcony — so small it barely fit three adults — was nothing, the moment she stepped outside, she was in full view of the tower.
So much vigilance. For what? A group of children, a severely injured and underweight 33-year-old woman, and their 53-year-old grandmother.
What did they think they would do? Start a revolt?
The soldiers controlled everything — food, supplies, even her medication. They brought it all to them at a scheduled time and determined what she received and when.
So Luna rationed.
To Doctor Sara’s credit, the medicine came exactly as promised: three tablets a day, to be taken every eight hours, to keep the pain manageable. But while Luna was in pain, she wasn’t in enough pain to be stupid. The earlier injection dulled the worst of it, allowing her to move without wanting to scream, to be touched without her body recoiling in agony.
But medicine was finite.
What if one of the children needed it? What if something happened to Mum? If resources ever ran short, and it came down to choosing between a soldier and her… well, she had no illusions about where the priority would lie.
So she adjusted.
The first day, she took two tablets — spread over twelve hours — just enough to keep herself functional. The next day, she halved her doses, taking only a fraction every twelve hours. It kept the pain at bay, at least to a bearable level, and the rest? She quietly tucked away with her things, hidden for emergencies.
Lyme was kind enough to let them keep a few things.
Unsurprisingly, most of the food taken from her house never made it to Luna and the boys. If she had to guess, it had been absorbed into the rebel supplies. But one box did reach them — containing a few precious items. Some boxed coconut water, and a few jars of sweets, jams, and treats from their cook.
Luna was smart enough to keep them all hidden, of course, not even the boys knew where they were or when she would give them to them.
The food in the quarters was…
It wasn’t terrible, but it was limited. Each portion was labelled with their names — most likely calculated down to the calories and nutrients for their ages and sizes. Luna received more than Mum, probably because she was still Juni’s only source of food and Dash was breastfeeding once or twice a day.
The boys hated it.
At first, Sweetie and Blue outright refused to eat, while Hunter complained endlessly. But three or four days in, reality set in. If they didn’t eat what was given, there would be nothing else, and Luna wasn’t about to waste their few indulgences on complaints.
She stretched what little extra they had — giving them coconut water in small portions, knowing once a container was opened, it had to be finished. It was barely half a glass for each boy. At night, she handed out a fruit — those were just enough to last one week.
Somehow, it was the longest and shortest week of her life. Everything blurred together into a haze of routine, medicine, and pain — dull but constant, a reminder of how much her body was still recovering and so very slow.
Mum helped — a lot.
Lex, Blue, and Dash were slowly getting used to her, but it was still an adjustment. To them, she was a stranger. She looked like one too. Luna had never resembled Mum in any way. Maybe if she’d had brown hair or brown eyes, the boys would have found something familiar, something comforting in their grandmother’s presence. But she didn’t. And they were too little to remember her, too set in their ways to accept change without resistance — especially Blue.
A small part of her wondered if they thought about Cato when they looked at Mum. Who else had hair that light? Eyes that blue?
Luna had heard the comparisons before. She knew what people saw when they looked at them.
Even here, it hadn’t taken long for someone to make a comment. One of the soldiers had called Mum her ‘mother-in-law’, assuming she was Cato’s mother instead of hers. Mum had to correct them, to insist Luna was her daughter.
But she knew the truth. She looked more like Cato’s mother than her own, and no matter how much she denied it, the world had already decided what it wanted to see from the moment their family stepped into that centre.
Luna patted Dash’s tiny back gently, his warm little body nestled against her as he clung to her immobilised arm, hand curled right around hers, holding on tightly even as he dozed.
His eyelids fluttered, drooping for a moment — only for his eyes to snap open again, determined to stay awake.
Luna chuckled softly.
Stubborn little boy.
“Go to sleep,” she whispered, rubbing his palm.
Dash simply grinned up at her, a sleepy giggle escaping his lips. Luna shook her head, smiling despite herself.
The other kids were fast asleep — only Dash remained awake, nestled in her arms.
He was doing better. It was good. He deserved to be doing better.
Mum and the boys had taken over many of the little things she usually did — playing, helping with meals, tidying up. Prince had become an expert at brushing Blue and Dash’s teeth, standing watch as Lex managed his own. And Mum… well, no one would ever guess her age by the way she threw herself into play, lifting and tossing the boys as if her bones were made of iron.
Luna tried to rest as best she could, to heal and recover, and leave this all behind.
No one had said how long they would have to stay in that place, but it felt like goddamn forever now.
Luna breathed quietly, waiting for Dash to fally asleep fully before settling him onto her bed and she tucked him in, watching for a moment to make sure he didn’t wake up.
“Here,” Mum spoke softly, giving her a glass of water.
Luna offered a tired smile, adjusting her shirt back into place. Lyme had sent her some clothes — two sets of oversized pyjama pants that barely reached her ankles but had to be pined around her waist with hair ties and pins. Probably stolen from someone who hadn’t made it. But she couldn’t bring herself to care.
They felt better than the thin slips the Capitol had forced on her. Less exposed. More hers.
She emptied the glass and passed it back, then stood up — slowly, carefully — before making her way around the room to check on the boys.
The older ones had claimed the top bunks, with Archie practically glowing when he was included in their ranks. The younger boys were on the lower ones, along with Luna herself. Mum had taken the one above hers.
A few days ago, one of the soldiers had mentioned education — some kind of schooling for the boys, books that would be provided because they couldn’t attend anything.
Luna wasn’t entertaining the illusion that it would be anything different from the Capitol’s methods. They weren’t trying to teach, they were trying to indoctrinate. But it wasn’t like she could refuse the books, and the boys were already getting antsy from so many days locked in this place.
“Did you take your medicine?” Mum asked, moving back to help her.
“Before I lay down,” she told her, her voice still frail. “It’ll help me sleep.”
Her voice was still weak. It was coming back slowly, but she couldn’t speak up much louder than a mumble.
Mum nodded, her fingers gentle as she pushed a stray bit of hair behind Luna’s ear.
“And how’s your back?” she asked, her voice soft. “I think it’s healing nicely, but they’ll need to pull the stitches in a few days.”
Luna nodded.
“Lyme said she’ll do it,” she mumbled. “I still have a few days.”
Mum studied her for a moment as if trying to gauge how much of her act was real and how much was just stubbornness.
“Do you want to go outside?” she offered after a beat. “The weather’s nice tonight. I think it’s just about time for the shift change at the watchtower. That handsome, tanned soldier might be back.”
Luna chuckled.
“Sure.”
They stepped onto the small balcony and almost immediately, she noticed movement in the watchtower, with a soldier fully facing them.
Luna supposed this space was meant for whatever official had once occupied this room, overseeing the training soldiers below — now, it was a space for them to watch her family.
“I used to come here to visit your father when he was in training,” Mum said suddenly, her voice carrying a quiet nostalgia. “You were in my belly for a lot of those visits, you know? Luckily, you weren’t made here,” she gave Luna a pointed look. “We had a little house back then. He’d come home and have dinner with me.”
Luna smiled faintly. Of course, Mum knew this place well.
“I…” she spoke slowly. “We…”
She waited, and Mum pressed her lips together.
“We always wondered how it was for you, at home,” she decided. “Juno always said that there were… too many kids for comfort.”
Luna watched her quietly, waiting.
They were going to have that conversation eventually, she knew it. It had been waiting and brewing for a week now.
“But we always told her it was what you wanted,” Mum continued, twisting her wedding ring nervously. “That you had the resources, that you could have as many as you pleased. The staff could handle the hard work, while you got to enjoy the fun parts of raising them.”
Mum glanced back at the door, glancing at the kids inside.
“We always…” she sighed, shaking her head slightly. “You know, your father adored Cato. He never thought…”
She didn’t finish, but Luna didn’t need her to.
Dad never thought Cato could do anything wrong. He couldn’t imagine a world where his golden boy was anything but a wonderful husband.
Mum turned back to her, searching.
“And I know you planned them, right? Prince, Hunter, Teddy…”
There was something pleading in her gaze, a quiet hope that Luna would keep going, would add the others to the list. That she would assure her this wasn’t as bad as it could be.
She swallowed.
“And Archie, and Sweetie,” Luna added, her voice as loud as it could be — a low, soft addition.
She didn’t speak the names of the other boys, or of Juni. She couldn’t assure her of something that didn’t exist.
Mum closed her eyes, rubbing her own hand.
Luna held the railing, tapping on it.
“When…” she started.
Mum paused again.
“Did you…”
More silence.
Luna waited.
“Was this the first time?” Mum finally asked.
Luna stilled, her fingers stopping mid-tap against the railing.
She had known the question was coming. It was inevitable.
Mum kept her eyes closed, rubbing her hand like she was trying to soothe herself, and Luna breathed slowly.
“No.”
Mum’s breath hitched, just barely, but enough that Luna caught it.
“The party,” she added.
Because she had never said it aloud — she had never told anyone what had happened. The only people who knew were the people who’d seen it!
“The party?” Mum gasped. “When we were there?”
“Right before you arrived,” Luna told her. “My arm and my face.”
Mum didn’t answer and Luna did not have it in herself to look at her face as the silence stretched between them. Her fingers found the straps holding her arm in place and fidgeted absentmindedly, nails grazing the fabric as she braced herself to speak again.
“He convinced me never to mention it,” she said finally, swallowing against the tightness in her throat. “Said it would ruin your day. And then we talked that night, and I just… I wanted you to have a nice weekend with the kids.”
She expected something—some kind of emotion to well up inside her as she said it. Pain, anger, sorrow. But there was nothing. Just the plain, unremarkable truth.
Cato hurt her. Then convinced her to keep it a secret.
“Then he apologised, of course,” she added, as if that made any difference. “And tried to make things nice for the next few weeks.”
A brittle thing close to a laugh almost bubbled up her raw throat, but she held it back. Because that was the pattern before, wasn’t it? Before he put his hands on her.
He would break her down, scream at her, ‘show her where her place was’… then offer just enough warmth and sweetness and kindness to make her forget how cold and horrible things had been and make her hope whatever was wrong with them could be fixed.
And then, slowly, inevitably, they would settle right back into that quiet, relentless misery she had let herself sink into long before she even realised, because Cato’s misery was inescapable and it contaminated every little thing he touched.
“He was more the… screaming type,” Luna tried to explain to Mum. “He’d get right in my face, yell until I backed down. Until I did what he wanted.”
It was hard to breathe as they settled in her. Her throat ached, both from talking and from everything she just could not speakthe memory of Sweetie’s unbirthday stark in her mind.
It had been a good day. A beautiful day.
And then Cato arrived the next morning, and—
She swallowed, forcing the thought away.
“He never forced himself on me,” she said after a pause. “Never held me down or took what he wanted. He just… convinced me it was his right.”
That was almost worse, wasn’t it? That he never had to use his strength, never had to pin her in place — just wore her down, bit by bit, until resistance felt pointless.
“I managed to put more distance between us after Blue,” she admitted.
The first time he’d tried to touch her after that party, she had practically thrown herself off the bed. Moved so fast that she smacked her head against the bedside table, she bled out everywhere. It would’ve been funny if it weren’t so pathetic.
The idea of those same hands touching her… she couldn’t.
“But once every two months,” she murmured. “Or three. He would wear me down.”
Mum’s sharp inhale was barely audible, but Luna caught it anyway.
“It doesn’t make it less wrong,” Mum said firmly. “It doesn’t make a difference whether he forced your mind or your body. You didn’t want it.”
Luna didn’t look at her, just breathing in.
What was the point? It was long over now. Dwelling on it wouldn’t change anything.
And he was dead.
Mum stayed quiet, but Luna could see the way her fingers clenched, the way her jaw tightened.
“I couldn’t leave, you know that,” Luna told her, her voice faltering, but she had to say. “I couldn’t leave him. I couldn’t leave the kids with him, and I couldn’t just take them with me.”
She didn’t have to explain — Mum had seen it, she had lived it this week. Even with the soldiers keeping watch, even with Mum helping, just moving through the day with so many children to care for was exhausting. It was hard enough now when they had people on their side.
Back then? Alone?
It would have been impossible.
And Cato had power — real power. The kind Luna would never have, no matter how strong she tried to be.
Too many things could have gone wrong.
“And President Snow was watching us,” she whimpered, pressing her fingers against her shirt, gripping the fabric with her immobilised arm. “He made sure we knew it. Sent us letters for every little occasion. He called Cato, and I had to listen.”
She could still see the ink on the page, crisp and precise. Each of the boys’ names listed, one by one.
Each of them a future victor.
Luna squeezed the railing, breathing faster as the fear settled in her bones, nearly suffocating.
What if this didn’t work? What if something went wrong?
Something would happen to them. She knew it.
Snow wasn’t the forgiving type, and he was clinging to life, he might as well live forever.
Mum reached for her hand, squeezing gently, and Luna took a deep breath, eyes meeting with a soldier as he watched them from the tower, unwavering.
Not in front of them. It was enough that she looked like this, they would not have a front seat to her breaking.
They stood in silence, time stretching between them until Mum suddenly stepped away, and Luna blinked for a moment, watching as she disappeared inside. She returned a few moments later with a glass of water, and gave it to her.
She waited, watching closely as Luna emptied it, then took the glass back, setting it aside before turning to look at her again, her shoulders stiff.
“I… I need to know,” Mum spoke softly, steady but full of so many feelings behind it.
Mum’s hand hovered just above her, hesitant, like she wanted to touch her and comfort her, but wasn’t sure if she was even allowed to.
“Was it… always like this?” she asked, almost stumbling over the words. “Did he always do this?”
Luna breathed in deep.
“Only this time,” she said, then hesitated. “Well. These two times.”
Her mother frowned, confused.
“I made him angry, the day before,” Luna explained, the words coming even lower now.
She’d spoken too much already, the doctor had warned her she should limit the use of her words. But this needed to be said.
“We had a fight. He came home, started throwing insults, and I… I was done,” Luna said, her words sharper now, filled with old defiance. “I told him everything I’d been keeping inside.”
She could still picture his face — red with fury, his voice hoarse from screaming at her to shut up, shut up, shut up. But she hadn’t.
She had stayed quiet for far too long. He deserved to hear all of that before he died, maybe it was what would haunt his afterlife if there was one.
“He beat me raw,” she admitted, her tone flat. “Kicked me. Did everything he could to shut me up… If the boys hadn’t walked in—”
Luna broke off, her throat tightening.
Not from pain. Not from fear.
But because they had seen it.
Her sweet boys, her babies had watched their father do that to their mother.
Mum took her hand again, and Luna let her.
She could have died that day.
“The next night, he came home,” Luna continued, her voice quieter now. “And he was frantic. He attacked me again. Put his hands around my neck.”
He’d lifted her clean off the ground like she weighed nothing!
“Then Prince came in,” she said, voice wavering just slightly. “I had to get him off of him. That’s why my back is all cut — I broke the mirror.
Mum inhaled sharply, fingers tightening around Luna’s. She could see she was trying to steady herself, to not cry.
“Then Prince grabbed a sword. Cato’s new sword,” Luna went on. “And they fought. I took the sword.”
She exhaled.
“I attacked him.”
The memory was still very much alive. The weight of the sword in her hands, the sheer force behind her swinging, the way the blade stuck in Cato’s body—
She could still feel it.
Luna was pulled it by little sniffles, and when she turned to Mum, her heart clenched at the sight.
She was trying so hard not to break.
She grabbed her hand without even thinking, trying to comfort her, and Mum squeezed her even tighter, and she moved so quickly she barely saw it, wrapping herself around her tight.
Luna didn't even think of resiting, she let herself be pulled into her mother’s arms, held tight. The pain in her body was nothing compared to being held by her.
This was her mother.
And Luna couldn’t remember the last time she had been held like this.
Still, she stiffened, the instinct to stay still, to keep everything locked inside far too natural for her.
Mum needed this — she needed comfort. This had shaken her, shattered everything she thought she knew about Cato and the last fifteen years.
But it was Mum. She was in Mum’s arms again.
It cracked her, and a sob that had been stuck for years just wrenched itself free from her throat. It came out thin, raw, her vocal chords barely capable of any more sound.
Her whole body shook, wrecked as she clung to her mother like a lifeline, like leaving her meant sinking right back to her past.
“It’s okay,” she whispered. “It’s okay, baby. You’re safe now. I got you. He’s gone.”
Luna cried and cried like she had never cried before. She sobbed like a baby, had to be guided back to her bed.
He was gone.
Cato was gone. He was dead.
Whatever happened, whatever came next…
Cato was dead.
She had gotten rid of him. He would never come back. He would never haunt them again.
Mum gently petted Luna’s hair as she took the tablet from the little table between their bunk and the one Blue was sharing with Prince. Luna placed the square under her tongue, ignoring the disapproving look her mother gave when she realised how tiny it was.
It was best she thought the doctors weren’t caring for her enough, she would never let Luna save up the pain medicine like she was doing.
Mum’s fingers brushed her hair back, pushed it out of the way.
“I’m sorry,” Mum whispered, her voice breaking. “I’m so sorry.”
Luna could only watch her, unable to speak, only sob and shake.
“I shouldn’t have let you go,” Mum whimpered softly. “Shouldn’t have let them rush you into a marriage so soon. I shouldn’t… I did so many things wrong with you.”
Mum blinked, tears spilling down her cheeks.
“I let him into our house,” she whispered, still shocked. “I allowed him into our lives.”
Luna grabbed Mum's hand, pressing a kiss to her palm, shushing her as best as she could.
That was fifteen years ago. Nearly sixteen. It was long gone.
She had only been trying to be a good mother, letting Luna have a boyfriend, letting her live the life she thought was right.
They couldn’t know.
Mum exhaled, watching her, then pressed a long kiss to her forehead, and Luna felt the warmth of her breath, the soft tremble of her lips.
She didn’t go to her own bed, and just.
Mum adjusted Luna’s pillows, tucked Dash in closer, checked on Juni, and then settled right by her side.
Her fingers ran through her hair as she started humming something softly, an old song someone had sung somewhere.
“Deep in the meadow, under the willow,” she sang softly. “A bed of grass, a soft green pillow.”
Luna breathed in deeply.
When was the last time Mum had sung to her? When was the last time it was just then?
“Lay down your head and close your eyes, and when they open, the sun will rise.”
She couldn't help a little smile as she rested on the bed, clinging to that littlest bit of peace.
“Here it's safe, here it's warm…”
She fell asleep before she even heard the rest of the song.
The next days dragged on, slow and suffocating.
But there was one upside.
After nine long days, Lyme had finally arranged a way for them to leave their quarters, to stretch, to move.
It was a relief — for all of them — but especially for the boys, who had all grown restless and difficult to soothe. Their routine had been completely shattered, their lives were upended overnight, and they had been confined to a single room for over a week.
Luna couldn’t blame them. She was going crazy too.
The first two days outside, it had just been their family and Soldier Jones. A cautious, contained step forward.
Today was different.
Today, there were other children outside.
On one hand, Luna knew how important it was for the boys to socialise, to have some sense of normalcy again.
On the other…
She hadn’t forgotten the way they had been welcomed that first day. The cold looks. The whispered words. The hostility.
Luna watched as Blue and Dash kicked a little ball between them a few feet away, their little laughter light against the hum of chatter around them.
The other boys, however, stayed close, their eyes darting toward the other children but making no move to approach.
Luna adjusted Juni in her wrap, shifting the fabric so the late afternoon sun could warm her tiny face. The baby stirred slightly but remained content, her small fingers curling near her cheek.
Mum nudged Sammy and Sweetie, her voice light but firm.
“Look at that. Those kids over there playing with a ball.”
The boys said nothing, just side-eyeing her.
“Aren’t they your age?” Mum pressed, giving them an encouraging smile.
Sammy squinted at the group.
“…Yeah?” he answered slowly, clearly not convinced.
“Then go play with them,” Mum urged. “Go on, go.”
Neither of them moved right away.
Luna bit the inside of her cheek, watching their hesitation, and reached for both with her free hand.
“Go,” she told them, soft. “It’ll be fun.”
Sammy moved first — he always did, the more outgoing of the two. He grabbed Sweetie’s wrist and tugged him along, leaving Luna to exhale in quiet relief. A moment later, Lex bolted after them, their ever-loyal shadow.
Luna was still watching them go when a sudden burst of movement made her jump. A girl dashed up to Archie, smacking his back with a triumphant shout.
“Tag! You’re it!” she declared before sprinting away.
Archie froze, glancing at Luna, then at Mum, his expression caught somewhere between confusion and excitement.
But instead of chasing the girl, he spun right away and made a beeline for Prince.
“Tag! You’re it!” he announced, slapping Prince’s shoulder before taking off.
For the first time in what felt like forever, Luna laughed.
Prince never ever refused to play with his little siblings.
And still, he looked at her and then at where Archie had gone, as if asking for permission, and it was so sweet.
“You’re it!” she reminded him, couldn’t even help the laughter that came out of her reply as he scrambled after him, diving straight into the game of tag.
It hurt her back and her neck, but it was worth it.
Her amusement was cut short when a deep, authoritative voice cracked through the air from the speakers.
“No playing outside the marked zone! Failure to adhere to regulations will result in disciplinary action.”
Luna turned to the source, laughter fading, and Soldier Hawthorne was lowering his radio, his expression hard and unfriendly as his eyes met hers.
He hadn't moved from his spot, a few steps away, rigid and watchful — their escort for the day.
Luna knew well him enough — Hawthorne was one of the soldiers who disliked them the most and he never kid it at all.
She swallowed and looked away. So much for a carefree afternoon.
When she glanced back at Teddy and Hunter, they were both glaring at him very angrily, and her stomach twisted in response. She reached for them quickly, brushing her fingers over their arms.
It wasn’t worth it. He hated all of them already, glaring would not help.
“Why didn’t Jones come this time?” Teddy asked, still staring straight at Hawthorne. “He’s much nicer.”
“Nice is a stretch,” Hunter corrected, his voice deliberately loud enough to carry. “But at least he’s not rude to a bunch of kids just trying to have a minute of fun.”
Luna sighed, petting his hair.
“Soldier Jones probably has his own job to do, just like Soldier Hawthorne is doing his,” she reminded them, keeping her tone light but firm. “And speaking of playing — what are you two doing standing here instead of having fun with the other children?”
Teddy and Hunter exchanged a glance.
“We’re with you,” Hunter raised his chin.
“Me?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.
“And Juni,” Teddy added, crossing his arms with a stubborn tilt to his chin.
Luna couldn’t help grinning.
“I didn’t know I was a princess in a tower,” she teased. “Where's the dragon?”
Teddy’s eyebrows shot up, and Hunter’s mouth opened, clearly ready to answer, but Mum was faster.
“It’s a rhetorical question, Hunter,” she interjected swiftly, gently. “A joke. It doesn’t need an answer.”
Hunter snapped his mouth shut, frowning and pouting, while Luna turned to Mum with a soft chuckle. Well, that was familiar. Mum had done the same thing to her when she was younger.
Before anyone could add to the conversation, Lex came flying to them, breathless and terribly mischievous, and he barely paused before smacking Hunter on the back.
“Tag, you’re it!” he squealed, already spinning on his heel to sprint away.
Hunter’s eyes widened in brief betrayal before he did exactly what Archie had done earlier — he turned straight to Teddy and passed it on.
“Tag, you’re it!”
And just like that, they were off running.
Luna adjusted Juni in her arms as she settled onto the nearest bench, keeping one hand steady behind her baby’s back for support. When she looked down, Juni was already gazing up at her with wide, curious eyes.
“Hi, baby,” Luna cooed softly.
Juni’s lips stretched into a toothless grin, her tiny head lifting just a little more as if trying to see her face more.
“Hi, my baby,” Luna whispered, running a gentle hand over her little back. “Did you miss my voice?”
Juni let out a sweet little coo, gripping Luna’s shirt with her small hands, making her heart grow thrice it size. She petted Juni’s back as her baby continued her happy little sounds to every word of hers.
A shadow fell over them. Luna glanced up, finding Lyme stepping to Mum.
“Loba,” Lyme greeted.
“Lyme.”
They exchanged a brief look before Mum’s gaze flickered to Luna. A silent moment passed, and then she gave a small nod and stepped away, heading toward Blue and Dash to join them in the shade.
Lyme lowered herself onto the bench beside Luna.
“Luna.”
“Lyme.”
“It’s good to see you in such a good mood,” Lyme observed with a small smile. “And with little Juniper.”
Juni turned her head toward the sound of her name, still beaming, and Lyme — rarely one for soft expressions — allowed herself a small smile in return.
“How are you feeling?” Lyme asked.
“Better,” Luna replied honestly. “It’s a slow improvement.”
She was still in pain and there was no medicine to be delivered, so Luna was just riding it out.
The days were easier than the nights.
It wasn’t as bad as the first days, but it wasn’t easy. She would need much rest after this outing, it would certainly make the pain in her back, neck and shoulder grow. Even holding Juni would probably become too much at some point soon — so she was enjoying this time with them.
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you,” Lyme said, her voice measured. “About a favour.”
Luna inhaled sharply, steadying herself as she glanced down at Juni, who was still watching Lyme with bright-eyed curiosity, fascinated by this new presence in her space.
That felt quite familiar, didn’t it?
She was half-sure she had heard those exact words in that exact tone fifteen years ago.
“We…” Lyme started slowly, choosing her words with care. “We’re in a strong position with the rebellion. Our forces are growing, people are joining us, we’re becoming stable…”
Luna’s eyes flicked toward her, still unable to turn her neck.
“You know, the Capitol… they have their favourite faces,” Lyme continued, her tone hesitant as she pointed subtly to Luna.
Luna felt the weight of the pause. Lyme took in a deep breath, steadying herself before continuing.
“You were always one of those faces, maybe because you were such a rare sight.”
Luna’s jaw tightened.
“I was not a willing sight,” she snapped.
Lyme fell into silence. She already knew the truth, the truth that clung to every part of Luna’s being. Those interviews, the photos, the label the Capitol had slapped on her: The Capitol's Delight.
Luna had never wanted any of it. It was forced upon her. Lyme had been the first one to use her, when Luna had just discovered she was pregnant, back when Cato had been in the arena. They had decided — without asking her — that using their relationship would give Cato an edge over his competitor, the boy from District 11.
“I know,” Lyme murmured, her voice softer now. “It wasn’t your choice back then. But that’s why I’m asking you now — to offer, not to command.”
Luna exhaled slowly, shifting her grip on Juni. Her baby had lost interest in their conversation and was now playing with the fabric of her wrap.
“And what exactly are you asking?” Luna pressed.
Lyme hesitated for only a second.
“You know how powerful an image can be,” Lyme said, her voice purposeful.
Luna said nothing, her body tensing. She knew exactly where this was going.
“Your image…” Lyme continued, trailing off as if testing the waters, “it can be incredibly powerful. Especially now. The Capitol may have forced you into their spotlight, but that same recognition could work for us now. It could help the rebellion.”
Luna tensed, feeling her heart dropping to her belly.
“You want to use me.”
Of fucking course.
Lyme didn’t miss a beat.
“I want to help the rebellion win.”
She was glad she couldn’t move her neck, she wouldn’t have to pretend to want to look at her as Lyme spoke.
Luna kept her eyes on the children playing tag, her stomach twisting. She had spent years being paraded around, shaped into whatever narrative best suited the Capitol’s needs. And now — now the rebellion wanted to do the same?
“The people need to know what the Capitol does to victors,” Luna said quietly, her voice hard. “How they use us. How they break us into pieces, make us dance for their amusement, lay for their pleasure, then leave us to rot. How that pain seeps into our families, into everything we touch.”
She exhaled slowly, words stinging her tongue, but the bitterness was familiar.
“How they turned a favourite into someone willing to kill his wife and son?” she spat, her voice sharp and clipped, unable to hold back the fury anymore.
Lyme was silent for a moment before leaning in slightly.
“Luna,” she said, her voice steady, “I was the first person to see your state.”
Luna glanced at her, finding her expression darkened.
“I’ve never been so shocked in my life. I never thought someone could turn their hands on someone they claimed to love and do such harm. And if people saw what I saw…”
She trailed off.
Luna waited, her jaw tightening. If people saw what she saw, what? The anger would turn to pity? The Capitol’s people would suddenly feel compassion for someone from the districts? After nearly ninety years of the Hunger Games?
But Lyme didn’t finish her thought.
Instead, she exhaled and shifted slightly.
“You don’t have to do it,” she said finally. “No one will force you.”
Luna barely had time to process that before Lyme added-
“I spoke with some of the officials. We believe we might be able to secure another week’s worth of medicine for you. In a few days. If you agree.”
Luna instinctively moved to turn her neck and look at her, but a sharp pain shot through her spine, the brace holding her in place and she held a pained whimper.
Fuck.
"Perhaps something a bit stronger as well," Lyme added. "We can’t spare morphling, but… a higher dosage of what you were already using is possible."
Luna didn’t respond.
So that was their strategy, then. Take advantage of her pain, of the way it gnawed at her every waking moment, to push her into doing what they wanted.
"You don’t have to answer now," Lyme said, standing. "We’ll talk tomorrow. You can tell me then."
Luna exhaled slowly, adjusting Juni against her chest, eyes straight on the boys, unwilling to give Lyme the satisfaction of a reaction.
But still, her stomach twisted and flipped in all directions as Lyme walked away.
She watched the boys playing, laughing, kicking and punching the ball back and forth, trying to keep it in the air. She exhaled slowly, forcing herself to breathe. To calm down.
Of fucking course they were asking this of her. As if everything she’d already endured wasn’t enough.
But she didn’t even have time to dwell on it — someone was already approaching her again.
She looked up, expecting Lyme or maybe even Mum, but instead, she found herself staring at him.
Finnick Odair.
Tall, broad-shouldered, sun-kissed as always. Finnick fucking Odair.
Luna didn’t even react at first. She just stared.
"Hello, Luna," he greeted, flashing that famous smile. "May I sit?"
She kept staring.
What the fuck was Finnick Odair doing in front of her?
Her body tensed on instinct.
This couldn't be good.
"Sure," she mumbled
He settled beside her with an ease that was almost mocking, as if this were just a casual chat between friends and not a ploy to move her.
“I’m Finnick,” he said smoothly, flashing another one of his easy smiles. “I’ve heard many great things about you.”
Luna had to force her body to shift, wincing as she turned enough to look at him.
“I’ve sculpted you…” she paused, searching her memory. “Twelve times. Two busts of your face, three of your face and chest, and seven full bodies. Nine of them were gilded.”
The other three couldn’t afford gold.
Finnick smiled, looking either pleased or amused.
“I know,” he said, his voice dipping into something softer. “I’m quite familiar with your work. It’s admirable — I’ve never seen such talent before.”
Something inside her warmed at the words, despite everything.
Well. That was… very kind of him.
“Thank you,” she breathed out. “I didn’t know you were a rebel.”
“Always have been,” Finnick said, his voice low and steady. “From the moment I saw the Capitol for what it really is and experienced them with my own life.”
Juni squirmed in her wrap, searching for the voice speaking nearby. Luna shifted slightly, adjusting so her daughter could see Finnick.
“And hello,” he greeted warmly, his voice turning gentle. “Who is this beautiful little one?”
Juni wriggled, her tiny hand pushing out of the wrap, and to Luna’s surprise, Finnick immediately offered her his finger. A grin spread across his face when Juni latched on, gripping it with that baby strength.
“Juniper,” Luna introduced her. “She’s my youngest.”
“Hello, Juniper,” Finnick cooed, his tone full of exaggerated admiration. “Aren’t you the sweetest? And you look just like your mother. I hope I’m not intruding on your time together — I know you have quite a few brothers who cherish every second with you.”
Luna just watched him carefully.
So many compliments, so much charm... just another person sent to coax her into doing what the rebellion wanted.
“She’s very precious,” Finnick affirmed, looking up at her face again.
“She is,” Luna agreed.
Finnick nodded, his grin lingering as Juni curled her fingers more tightly around his. His other hand rested loosely on his knee, his posture relaxed — but Luna could tell. This was calculated. He was patient. He was waiting for her to settle, waiting for her guard to lower.
“She’s strong,” he noted, glancing up at Luna. “A good grip.”
A pause. Not an awkward one, but deliberate. He wasn’t pushing. Not yet.
“She’s lucky to have you,” he whispered, tilting his head a little. “All the children are. I was told, very vaguely, that you were the one who took Cato down.”
And there it was. Another soft approach. Another attempt to sway her.
“Yes,” Luna confirmed simply.
The silence settled between them for a long time, until Finnick cleared his throat.
“I am truly sorry for what happened to you, Luna,” he affirmed. “I only met Cato briefly. Even during the Games, we never really spoke or spent more than a few minutes in the same room.”
Luna watched him carefully, waiting for the rest.
“What he did to you is unjustifiable,” Finnick continued, his gaze steady. “And your response was the most logical thing. In your place, I don’t know if I would have been brave enough… but I’d hope the people in my life would be.”
“Thank you,” she mumbled.
Juni was still playing with Finnick’s hand, fascinated by the way his fingers moved, and Luna rubbed her daughter’s back without thinking, focusing on her.
Finnick hesitated.
“Did he… did he ever talk about the Capitol to you?” he asked. “About what he did there?”
“About them buying him?” she cut in. “Endlessly.”
His shoulders sagged slightly before he caught himself, straightening up again.
“It was his favourite thing to rub in my face,” Luna continued, voice flat. “How much he took for me. So I could live a good life.”
As if any of that had ever been her fault.
“It’s awful,” Finnick affirmed. “Truly awful, what they did to us.”
Luna paused. The word settled in her mind, sharp and heavy.
Us.
It didn’t happen with just Cato. It shouldn’t shock her, of course it was a big system of human exploitation. And still…
“They did to you?” she asked, surprised.
“Yes,” he confirmed, his voice steady. “And Lyme. Enobaria — you must know her. Mags, my mentor, for many years… until she got married and had her children. Then she became less desirable. Lyme, too. She seemed glad to fade from the spotlight. But practically all of us — at some point — were sold. Some once or twice. Some, many times over the years… like me. Like Cato.”
Luna swallowed down, holding Juni a little closer to her, the threat that Cato had hovered over her head making itself known again.
Her children being a part of that system. Being forced into that nightmare.
“It’s horrific,” Finnick said, his voice quieter now. “My experiences were… well.” he let out a slow breath. “And I’m certain his weren’t much better.”
“They weren’t,” she mumbled.
Cato had thrown it all in her face more than once. The way they loved seeing him act like an animal. Some pre-historic beast, taking them violently. Some liked him bending and submitting for their entertainment. How they laughed as a man like him was forced to kneel, to lick floors, to press his lips to polished shoes.
And worse things too, things that she never wanted to recall.
“The rebels… we’re planning to hijack a transmission,” Finnick told her. His expression didn’t change, but there was something determined in his eyes. “I’ve already recorded my own statement. I talked about what happened to me, about the people who did it. The way they paid me with their secrets. The way they used me.”
Luna took a deep breath. Finnick slowly withdrew his hand, giving Juni space as her tiny face pressed into her mother’s chest. Luna adjusted the wrap, hoping she’d drift off to sleep.
“A lot of people have lived through what I have,” Finnick continued, his voice steady but weighted. “And we believe telling the world about it is going to make a difference.”
He exhaled, loudly, chuckling.
“It was… nerve-wracking, really. A little humiliating, to say aloud things I tried so hard to compartmentalise. I stepped out sweating like I’d been running for an entire day. And it was just as exhausting.”
Luna watched him, waiting. Yes, it sounded exhausting.
“But it’s worth it for me,” he said firmly. “People see someone they feel a connection with. They learn the truth about the evil they once cheered for. And I’m just one man. I can fight for myself, and I’m only fighting for myself.”
He glanced at her then, his expression unreadable.
“But you… you have nine little boys and a little girl,” he said. “Children the entire Capitol was hyped about meeting someday. The day your eldest stood for his first Reaping, I remember the cameras being on him the entire time. Caesar gushed about how much he looked like his father. And the same when your second boy came of age.”
Luna swallowed, unable to meet his eyes, and the bitterness spread thick on her tongue.
“They were already obsessing over them,” Finnick murmured, his voice quiet but sharp. “When they were nothing more than children. Innocent. Supposed to be out of their reach. All the while, they suffered because of them,” he added, his tone laced with something close to anger. “All the while, you — on your own — protected each and every one of them with everything you had in you.”
Luna blinked, trying to steady herself and to keep the fear from swallowing her whole. But her eyes burned anyway, hot with tears as that old, familiar terror pressed against her ribs.
“Suffering. Hidden. Alone,” Finnick said, his voice quiet but relentless. “All while they upheld the system — the very system — that caused your pain. That caused their pain and endangered them. You protected them with your own body. And now? They tell me you’re still trying to protect them, even when you’re hurt. Even when you’re hurt!”
She clutched Juni closer, as if holding her daughter could anchor her.
Did he think she would do anything different? That what she had done — what she was doing—was extraordinary?
These were her children. It was her duty to keep them safe, to ensure their lives were good, that they would never feel the weight of what she had suffered.
“You killed a man easily three times your size!” Finnick exclaimed. “For them!”
He let out a short huff of a laugh, shaking his head.
“You’d kill me for them. You’d kill Hawthorne over there,” he added, nodding toward the other man, his words laced with something almost light. But there was no mistaking the truth beneath them. “And you’ve made so many sacrifices for them, Luna. I know that.”
She sucked in a sharp breath, a tear slipping down her cheek before she could stop it.
“Don’t you think it’s time people know?” Finnick pressed, his voice quiet but urgent. “That they know the truth? What the Capitol does to good people? To a good mother who was only trying to protect her children — who nearly died because of their system, their actions?”
His green eyes burned with conviction as he leaned in just slightly, gaze locked on hers.
“That you’re seen as more than the Capitol’s Delight?” he asked, voice dropping almost to a whisper. “That people finally see the woman you truly are? A good mother who had to protect her children from their own father because to the Capitol, they were nothing but collateral damage?”
Luna swallowed hard, her throat tight. She gripped Juni just a little closer as if her daughter alone could steady her shaking hands.
She didn’t respond right away. Couldn’t.
Finnick let the silence stretch between them, but he didn’t look away. He just watched her, patient. Expectant.
She had spent so long being silent. So long keeping her head down, keeping her children safe, swallowing her own pain because there was no space for it — not when there were so many little lives depending on her.
But…
“I don’t need their pity,” she murmured, looking away.
She had received enough pity for a lifetime.
“This isn’t about pity,” Finnick countered. “It’s about power.”
“You took down Cato,” he reminded her. “You fought your way out. But the Capitol still owns the story,” he gestured, frustration flickering through his expression. “They can twist it. Make you into whatever they want you to be. A damsel in distress, kidnapped and held for ransom. A victim who needs saving!” his voice hardened. “They can use your image however they want — if you let them.”
Luna clenched her hands.
“This is your chance,” he pressed, voice unwavering. “To protect your children in the biggest way possible. To show everyone who you truly are — not whatever they made you to be.”
She raised her free hand, quickly wiping her face, trying to steady herself.
“I still need to think,” Luna warned him, her voice firm despite the weight in her chest. “This isn’t a decision to be made like this. You of all people should know that.”
Did they think they could push her into a decision like this in five minutes? Ten?
“Of course,” Finnick agreed easily, but he didn’t back away.
Luna took a deep breath, closing her eyes for just a moment, trying to collect herself. But before she could exhale, Juni let out a small whimper, pressing her face against Luna’s chest. The sound grew into a sharp, hungry cry — an honestly perfect cue for him to leave.
Finnick nodded solemnly to her.
“It was an honour to meet you, Luna,” he said. “I hope our paths cross again. I’ll give you privacy.”
Her mother approached swiftly, her gaze lingering on Finnick as he walked away. Luna focused on soothing Juni, waiting for help — she could do little on her own with the braces restricting her movements.
From the corner of her eye, she caught a shift in the room. Soldier Hawthorne silently stepped back as well, moving away to watch over the children instead of hovering over her shoulder.
She couldn’t help the pain that irradiated through her as they both worked on moving Juni and Luna into a doable feeding position, the weariness starting to set in her already.
It was going to be a long night.
Chapter 18: Epilogue (3/5)
Summary:
Luna decides to help the rebels.
They prepare her for an interview about Cato and her life.
Chapter Text
Luna barely slept — and neither did Mum.
It wasn’t just one thing keeping them awake. It was everything.
The pain, for one — sharp and constant — but Luna refused to dip into the painkiller stash. Then there was Juni, restless and fussy all night, squirming in discomfort. It was probably one of those growing nights.
So they stayed up, taking turns holding her, soothing her, feeding her. The hours blurred together in a quiet rhythm of soft murmurs and tired rocking.
Juniper only finally drifted off when the first light of dawn spilt through the window. By then, it was nearly time to wake the boys, so they didn’t even bother trying to sleep.
Mum was strapping Juni into her carrier-turned-bed when she finally spoke.
“Have you made your decision?”
Luna lifted her eyes to meet hers, and Mum gave her a gentle, knowing look.
“No,” Luna exhaled.
Of course she hadn’t.
It wasn’t an easy decision — not by any stretch.
The Capitol had sucked every drop out of her image. Every photo, every video, every carefully edited interview — they’d paraded her around like their pretty pet.
And she had never been allowed to say no.
And now that she was supposedly free, supposedly safe, the rebels were lining up to do the same thing! They hadn’t even sent just anyone, not even just Lyme. They’d sent Finnick fucking Odair to convince her! As if his charm would be what swayed her.
“I don’t want to talk to anyone,” Luna sighed, the exhaustion heavy on her shoulders. “I don’t want to open up, I don’t want to rehash everything. I just want to forget it happened, Mum.”
Her voice cracked as she ran her hand up her face.
“I don’t want to have to remember every time he hurt me just so they can twist it into propaganda!”
Her mother exhaled slowly, walking over and sitting beside Luna on the bed. She reached for her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.
“I know,” she whispered.
Her thumb rubbed soothing circles over Luna’s knuckles, warm and steady.
“But…” her voice was careful, measured. “You know…”
She trailed off, letting the quiet stretch between them. Luna closed her eyes, already knowing where it was going.
“You know,” Mum finally continued, “before this week… for the last five, maybe seven years… I think I saw you more on a screen than I ever did in person.”
Luna swallowed hard but said nothing. Because it was true.
Cato never let her leave. Never let her visit. And bringing her family in was a battle she always lost before it even began. Her world had become that gilded cage — and her family had only ever glimpsed it from the outside.
“Old interviews, wedding footage… photos and update reels,” Mum whispered. “I heard about Dash’s birth from Caesar Flickerman. ‘Our dearest Cato and Luna have welcomed another healthy baby — how blessed they are!’” she quoted bitterly.
Luna's chest tightened, the raw ache spreading behind her ribs.
Those last two pregnancies had nearly broken her. Not just her body — though they’d done that too — but her spirit. By then, there had been no illusions left, no carefully painted lies she could tell herself to survive the day. She hated Cato. She feared him. And she was still there, still with him, for safety, for stability, for the children.
Dash hadn’t been like the other boys. He wasn’t the result of a desperate attempt to be a good wife or keep the peace. No, he was the result of being worn down, emotionally battered, and cornered. She’d been convinced to lie back and take it — just once — and she had. She’d thought it was a safe day.
It hadn’t been.
And Dash… sweet, curious Dash… she loved him. Of course she did. But it had taken effort. It had taken time. Loving him while he grew inside her had felt like trying to walk through tar. She had spent most of that pregnancy numb, detached, just trying to make it through.
She’d only mailed mum to tell her about the pregnancy when he was already five months in. And then she only told her about the gender and name when she mailed her about him being born.
They didn’t exchange many letters — they were terribly monitored not only by Cato but also by the Capitol. Anything that came in and out of their home was public knowledge. Luna would rather wait to be able to see Mum instead, even if it took months or years for them to see one another, she didn’t trust any other way of communication.
“Then I wondered,” she continued, voice soft, “if it was a boy or a girl, or if you’d picked a name yet, and I thought… Oh, I hope she wasn’t alone. I hope he held her hand through it, and birth was easy.”
Her voice cracked.
“And I remember saying to Julius… I hope it’s a girl, and that maybe they’ll take a break,” she whispered. “Because I thought that’s why you kept having them. Because you wanted a girl. I never…”
She trailed off. Luna didn’t press her to finish. She knew already — she’d lived it.
“And the way you were always shown on screen,” Mum went on after a beat, quieter now, almost as if talking to herself. “Your hair, so long, in those soft curls, the dresses so perfect, every detail planned… I’d see you and I’d think — she doesn’t look like the girl who I said goodbye to when she moved out of my house. Not like my little moon girl, with her overalls and practical shoes, with hair always pulled back and cut on the same style since she could speak…”
Luna’s eyes stung again, and this time she didn’t bother wiping them.
“And your wedding day…” her mother began, voice thick with old grief, “I didn’t even see you.”
Luna felt her chest crack further as Mum’s voice dipped lower, almost like a confession.
“I only ever thought of the first one, you know? That night.”
A sad smile tugged at Luna’s lips as the tears rolled down her cheek.
“No Capitol nonsense — no layers and layers of silks or powders or shiny things,” Mum looked away, a faint chuckle in her throat. “Just my girl wearing my dress. That was the only wedding I held onto.”
She paused again, exhaling hard.
“But then I remember… I let him steal you from me. And sometimes I think—maybe I should’ve held on harder. Maybe I should’ve fought more.”
Luna squeezed her hand gently, but Mum shook her head.
“But that’s not what this is about, is it?”
She leaned in, kissed Luna’s knuckles with sweet tenderness, and gave her hand another pat.
“They built someone else in your place,” she said, her voice laced with quiet fury. “Their perfect little Capitol Delight.”
The name made Luna’s mouth sour and made her lips turn down in disgust.
“All delicate and pretty, no more than a smiling little wife on a pedestal,” Mum whispered. “They didn’t show the real you. Not your fire, not your damn stubborn streak, or how sharp you’ve always been — doctor label be damned.”
Her mother’s hand tightened around hers, fierce and proud despite it all, and her voice ever stronger.
“They didn’t even hide that label. They used it. Made it part of that story. ‘Oh look, how sweet and soft she is — how lucky she was to marry a Victor, how lucky she is to be cared for.’”
She scoffed.
“As if you were the one being cared for, the one who needed him,” Mum spat, shaking her head. “As if he was the protector. You were the one holding that boy together the whole time he was with us. And then you held your house together on your own! You always were the strong one. He leaned on you. He needed you. Cato sucked you dry and still, you kept fighting.”
Luna blinked her blurry eyes, swallowing down.
That, he did. Cato had drained her until she was just a skeleton of herself, and when he saw she didn’t want to give him anything else, he tried to kill her.
“And I think…” Mum said slowly, her voice quieter now. “this might be your one and only chance to show them who you really are. And who Cato really was. Who he turned into.”
Mum moved slowly, kneeling in front of her, looking into her eyes. It wasn’t pushing or demanding, just… Mum.
Fierce, protective, strong.
“I understand if you want to protect yourself,” she said gently, but with that fire that never left her voice. “And your image. I do. But you know the Capitol — there’s no guarantee they won’t twist things again. They’ve got years’ worth of footage, of photos, of your life on a silver platter. And now that Cato’s gone… they’ve got no reason to hold back. You know that.”
Luna inhaled shakily, her eyes slipping closed. Of course she knew that.
Mum gave her hands another squeeze.
“So why not give the rebels the same chance?” she asked softly. “Let someone tell your story the right way — before they do it for you again.”
Luna didn’t even have the chance to respond.
A voice cut through the room before she could open her mouth.
“If you don’t do it, I will.”
She turned sharply at the sound, pain ripping through her body at the motion. Her jaw clenched tight as she swallowed the groan that rose in her throat and Mum steadied her gently.
Prince was standing there — so big for his age, tense and still. He walked to her side and met her eyes with the same determination he’d had the day they’d left everything behind.
His voice didn’t shake.
“If they want to hear about Cato, I can tell them,” he said. “I know everything.”
Not Dad. Not even Father.
Cato.
Luna’s breath caught in her chest.
“Prince,” she exhaled, her voice barely more than a whisper.
But he didn’t stop.
“I saw the way he hit you,” he said, steady and sharp, his voice laced with a fury far too old for his years. “Both times. Days ago. And before that. The way he treated me, and the boys. How he never even looked at Juni or Dash, or any kid who wasn’t useful to him. How he mixed us up, like we weren’t his kids. Just... I don’t even know what we were to him.”
Her heart clenched. She reached for him, brushing her fingers gently against his cheek, her thumb tracing the soft curve.
“Baby…” she whispered.
Cause that was what he was. Maybe overly grown and tall, but he was just a baby.
But Prince stepped closer to her, his eyes shining, filled with tears he refused to let fall.
“They think he’s a hero,” Prince spat. “but he was a monster. And if you don’t tell them about it, then I will.”
Luna watched his face, searching — desperately — for something to say that might soften the edges of his anger, and ease the ache behind his eyes. Her first instinct, that old habit of appeasement, flickered through her: to remind him that Cato loved him. Because once — once — he did.
Not now. Not recently. But back then—
Back when they were just two teenagers pretending they knew what they were doing, playing house with a newborn neither of them was ready for. When Prince was their only child, and they were both still trying, still hoping, still something.
When she was young and pregnant and terrified, watching Cato win the Games and marry her with trembling hands, convinced the nightmare would one day end and leave only history behind.
And later, when Prince was a toddler and Cato used to scoop him up like the world didn’t weigh anything, letting him fall asleep nestled between them, with Hunter curled at her chest. Back when love still looked like real.
But that was over a decade ago, a lifetime ago.
And that man… that man had died long before Luna ever wrapped her hands around the handle of that sword.
“I can’t let you do that,” she told him softly, her voice trembling a little. “You know I can’t.”
Prince didn’t flinch. His fingers tightened around hers, his jaw set, and his eyes — so heartbreakingly like his father’s and so different at the same time — set right on hers.
“Then do it!” he begged, stomping a foot, his little voice cracking. “Tell them, Mama!”
And it wasn’t just anger in his voice. It was grief, and truth, and fear and braveness at the same time.
And what kind of mother would she be to say no to him?
To her boy — her son, her baby — begging her to speak this pain out loud, because he couldn’t carry it alone anymore?
Luna closed her eyes as she took in a long breath, and she pulled him into her arms, holding him close. Oh, her poor baby, he was shaking!
She pressed a kiss to his cheek, her fingers brushing gently through his hair.
“Alright,” she assured him. “I’ll speak to them.”
Prince wrapped his arms around her tightly, resting his head in the crook of her shoulder.
She held him as close as she could when he sniffled against her, breathing her in, trying so hard not to fall apart.
Mum rubbed Prince’s back softly, and they stayed there like that for a while, until morning life pulled them all back into motion.
It was like every other morning: the half of the boys who bathed early took their turns, breakfast was delivered, and Luna tried her best to get them to read the books they'd been sent for “schooling.”
They looked pretty old to her — well-used, maybe even handed down for decades by the rebels. Still, they held more knowledge than Luna had ever learned at school, or from the boys’ old Capitol-approved homework. There were pictures and facts about other districts, fragments of their history, and even some recipes from traditional foods.
Hunter was flipping through a section on wedding customs, and read them aloud about District Four when stopped by him.
There, couples were covered in a net made from grass, touched each other’s lips with salt water, and sang a song about marriage being a sea voyage.
It sounded beautiful.
In school, they weren’t ever taught much about the other districts — only what they produced, and not much else.
“What are our weddings like?” Lex asked, all curious when he looked at her.
Luna had just turned to answer when a knock echoed at the door.
Lunch delivery. Right on time, as always.
“That’ll have to wait until after we eat,” she said, rising from the table. “Mark your books. I’m going to see what we’ve got today. And everyone, go wash your hands.”
She turned, narrowing her eyes at Sammy and Sweetie.
“And I will smell them,” Luna warned.
Her sweet little boys always tried to rush through that part.
But when she opened the door, it wasn’t just the usual lunch cart rolling into their room.
It was Lyme — shadowed by a soldier, a box of rations in hand, and Doctor Sara, already holding her medical case.
“Luna,” Lyme greeted, her voice steady. “May we come in?”
She took in a deep breath.
Well, she was surprised they had waited that long to ask if she had made her decision.
“Of course.”
As they entered, she glanced toward the table, where Mum was already gathering some of the boys to sit. Herding them like ducklings, as always.
“I brought lunch!” Lyme announced with a tentative smile. “And Doctor Sara wanted to check in, see how the kids are doing.”
Luna’s eyes flicked over them both. Sure, she thought. That might’ve been one reason. Maybe even two. But there were probably four or five more they weren’t mentioning.
Mum came up and took the box from Lyme’s hands, sparing her a brief look.
“Labelled,” Lyme added quickly, a little sheepish. “With treats.”
Mum raised a single, unimpressed eyebrow, then turned and walked the box back to the boys without a word.
That left Luna, Lyme, and Doctor Sara standing near the door, with a polite silence thick in the air.
“How are you?” Lyme asked, voice just a bit too casual.
“I’m tired,” Luna said flatly. “A bit cramped. My body hurts. The baby didn’t sleep at all last night, and I spent my morning trying to get eight boys to read books when they’d rather be doing literally anything else in the world — anything outside of this room we’re only allowed to leave under supervision. So. I do what I can.”
Lyme and Doctor Sara both stared at her, their smiles stiffening with discomfort.
Well, they’d asked.
“Oh,” Luna added, “and apparently I’m important enough that someone sent Finnick Odair to convince me to talk about my abusive marriage on camera — but not important enough to know when or if anything in my life will actually change. Or to get medication for my pain. Or a crib for my two-month-old.”
Juni had been sleeping in the stroller seat for over a week now.
They didn’t have even one of those travelling cribs?
Something? Anything?
“I…” Doctor Sara began, then faltered, her cheeks reddening. “We can arrange that. A crib.”
Luna just watched her without a word.
So it took asking for them to do that? Not seeing the 2-month-old sleeping in a stroller seat from day one?
Lyme cleared her throat.
“Have you given any thought to what we proposed to you?” she asked, giving Luna a hesitant look.
Luna took in a deep breath, her ribs aching with the effort.
Given any thought? It had been all she thought about since they returned to their dormitory yesterday.
“Yes,” Luna said. “I’ll do what you want. But I need to know the plans. All of them.”
“Of course,” Lyme nodded quickly.
But Luna didn’t let her continue.
“No,” she cut in, her voice as firm as she could make it. “I will not have anything thrown at me without warning. I won’t show my children. No one is coming into this room. I want every part of it laid out for me, and I will approve it. And if anything changes — anything — I will walk away.”
The interviews she’d given the Capitol had been nightmares. People dressing her, painting her, turning her into a doll. Invading her space. Prying at her, trying to wring out every last piece of her — every word, every image, every inch of pain they could package and sell.
It wasn’t going to happen again.
If they wanted her to speak — if they wanted to use her — it would be on her terms or not at all.
Lyme watched her face for a moment, but Luna didn’t have an ounce of energy to even attempt a smile. She wasn’t going to pretend they weren’t all there after their own goals.
“I’ll bring a briefing tomorrow,” Lyme said at last. “With who is going to speak with you, the topics we want to cover, the location, and all the details.”
Luna exhaled.
Good.
“If you would allow me,” Lyme added, a little softer, “I could go through your clothes, maybe find something for you to wear. And if you want someone to help with your appearance—”
And have another stranger grabbing her face? No.
“I’m not going to be another makeup artist’s canvas,” Luna interrupted sharply.
Once again, Lyme nodded — stiffly, but without protest.
“And the clothes?” she asked, almost pleading now.
Luna sighed. It was an interview, after all. Of course, they wanted an image.
“Sure,” she mumbled. “I didn’t bring much, though.”
“It’s fine,” Lyme confirmed. “I’m certain we’ll find something.”
They fell into silence, and from behind, Luna could hear Mum organising the table with the boys — the soft clinks of cutlery, the shuffling of chairs, someone laughing low under their breath, saying ‘thank you, nana’.
“We brought something,” Lyme said again, pulling Luna’s attention back. “Something that might help with your neck.”
Luna’s eyes flicked to Doctor Sara, who raised her briefcase in silent confirmation.
Of course they had.
After she accepted their proposition in front of two people who could confirm it — who could say she promised to do what they wanted.
Smart.
“It’s an anti-inflammatory,” Doctor Sara explained gently. “I just need to apply the injection today, and then another tomorrow, and one on the day of the interview. I can hear your voice is still rough — this might help.”
Her voice.
Of course.
“Sure,” Luna mumbled.
The Doctor moved to the nearest table, opening her case as Luna stepped toward her, Lyme following close behind.
“We’ll take off your brace,” Doctor Sara said softly. “The injection goes into your neck.”
Luna swallowed and stood still, inhaling as Lyme gently removed the brace and cupped her chin to hold her head steady, just like the brace would’ve done.
Then Doctor Sara turned toward her — and in her hand was the long, glinting needle.
One of the boys gasped.
“Mama!”
“It’s okay,” Luna said quickly, her throat rough from having to speak too loud. “It’s okay, it’s going to help.”
She heard the quick patter of feet — someone trying to run toward her — but then the sound of soft interception.
“It’s okay,” Mum’s voice came calm and warm. “Hunter’s going to hold her hand. And we’re all going to close our little eyes and only open them when Mama says we can, alright?”
“It’s a big needle,” Blue whispered, his voice shaking.
“I know,” Doctor Sara spoke softly, with real sympathy. “But it’s going to help with Mama’s pain.”
Luna felt a movement beside her and turned her head slightly — there he was. Hunter, coming to her, slid his hand into hers without a word.
“There we go,” Luna said, squeezing his fingers gently. “I have Hunter with me now!”
She turned her head just enough to face the others, wincing, and Lyme adjusted her again.
“And now we close our eyes,” she told them, her voice tight but trying for calm. “It’s just going to be a little prickle.”
Doctor Sara’s fingers touched her neck, cool and gentle, feeling along the muscle with a knowing touch.
“Everyone, eyes closed,” Doctor Sara warned. “And four… three…”
The needle slid in at three, not waiting for one, and Luna tensed as she felt the burn of the liquid spreading under her skin. She bit back a sound of discomfort.
Not the worst pain she’d ever felt by far, but not pleasant either.
“Two…” the doctor finished calmly, pulling the needle free. She gave the spot a firm press, then rubbed it gently before stepping back and returning to her suitcase. “One. Done.”
All at once, a chorus of tiny sighs filled the room — and one little gasp in particular made Luna’s heart flutter.
And despite the sting still blooming in her neck, she let out a soft, surprised chuckle.
“And we’ll just put the neck brace back now,” Doctor Sara said gently, “and it’s going to help with the pain in no time,” she fastened the brace as she spoke, her voice light. “With a mother so brave, it doesn’t surprise me that you’re all such courageous boys.”
Luna smiled faintly, letting her finish the adjustment.
“You should start to feel some relief from the worst of the pain in a few minutes,” the doctor continued. “The medication takes a bit to fully kick in, but it’ll ease over time.”
Luna exhaled, low and steady.
“Okay,” she said.
Better than nothing. Better than this.
Doctor Sara gave her a small nod.
“I wanted to check on the kids as well,” she added. “Ask a few questions, especially about school.”
Luna eyed the boys, squeezed together around the small circle table, each with their little portions in front of them — a plate, a spoon, and a closed bowl. Likely fruit. Or, well, dried slices of fruit.
She looked back at Doctor Sara.
“Now?” she frowned.
The woman gave her an apologetic look.
“I’m sure it won’t take long.”
Luna sighed. Of course. These people only ever worked on a give-and-take system.
She walked over to the boys, and Blue was already moving, standing up and tugging at her hand so she’d sit on his chair. He climbed into her lap without waiting for permission.
“Do they have blueberries, Mama?” he asked, peering suspiciously at his covered bowl.
Luna glanced at his little plate — as always, portioned down to the gram — and let out another soft sigh.
“I don’t think so, baby. But I’ll make sure they check,” she lied gently, pressing a kiss to the back of his head. “Why don’t you eat, hm? You said you liked the…”
She looked down at his plate.
Chickpeas?
“Chickpeas and lentils, a few days ago,” she finished.
It wasn’t a lie. He really liked the way their lentils were served.
Blue moved to eat, eyeing the doctor with mistrust as she came to speak to them.
“I was,” he confirmed, picking up a spoon and poking the chickpeas like they were suspects. “But I wanted blueberries too.”
“I’ll make sure to ask if they can bring them next time,” Luna said, even though she knew she couldn’t promise that. Not really. But Blue didn’t need to know that. “Eat slow, baby.”
Doctor Sara stepped forward, hovering near the table.
“I won’t keep you long,” she promised. “I just have a few questions, mostly about how the boys are settling in with their studies, and what they learned in school… we’re hoping they could join classes after your interview.”
Luna adjusted Blue on her lap and looked over at the rest of the table. Some of the boys were listening, others were more interested in their dried fruit, clearly pretending not to be paying attention.
Doctor Sara hesitated for a moment, then pulled a small notepad from her coat pocket.
“We set up some learning groups,” she said, keeping her tone casual. “Not quite classrooms — more like workshops, organised by age groups. Nothing too formal just yet, since we can’t provide a full education under… these circumstances.”
Luna just watched her. So, no conventional schooling then. That sounded like the recipe for a disaster.
“Could I ask how they were learning before?”
She ran her good hand through Blue’s hair, feeling him start to relax again as he focused back on his lentils.
“They went to school,” she said simply. “All of the boys, except for Dash. Everyone can read, and Blue is a bit ahead for his age — not quite at Lex’s level, but close. They’re both learning letters, tracing, numbers…”
Doctor Sara nodded slowly, taking notes.
“I believe they’d be a good fit for our Alphabet class,” she offered with a smile. “Every day, after lunch until four. It helps kids with shapes, letters, basic math and writing.”
“That sounds nice,” Lex spoke up.
Luna glanced at him — he was very focused, his baby blue eyes sharp on the doctor.
Lex loved learning, she was certain he missed it a lot.
“You can bring the youngest boy as well. Once a week, children under three are integrated into the group,” Doctor Sara added gently. “But I’d understand if you choose not to. Even at home, many parents wait until their children are fully weaned and potty trained before starting.”
“He can use the bathroom normally during the day,” Luna replied. “I was working on getting him out of pull-ups at night, but…”
She trailed off. There was no need to explain.
No one quite spoke for a moment, and Doctor Sara cleared her throat.
“Children tend to regress a little when they go through trauma and big changes,” she said simply.
Yes. She’d seen it in how Blue had gone back to being her velcro boy, clinging again, the independence she’d been nurturing slipping away.
“We have a middle group too,” Doctor Sara continued, “for children between seven and ten. It focuses on teamwork and preparing them for future responsibilities. They’re introduced to a variety of skills — along with continuing their education in math, history, physical activity… and collaboration.”
Luna frowned slightly.
“Responsibilities?”
“Well,” Doctor Sara began, “starting at eleven — or ten if the student is excelling — we introduce classes focused on training their skills for the future. I started training to be a medic at ten, but until I was twelve, I had access to other tracks too. Farming, hunting, engineering… that’s where most kids go. Though…”
She trailed off, gaze drifting toward the window. Her expression went distant, far away.
Luna studied her, carefully.
Those sounded… strange. Yes, medics were trained everywhere, but engineering? That was District 3 — Technology. And farming? That was District 11, crops. Or District 9 with grain.
How could someone from one place be trained across such wildly different professions?
“What district are you from?”
She wasn’t from Two, that was obvious. She didn’t speak like them — didn’t look like them either.
Doctor Sara turned to look at her, her eyes softening suddenly.
“Thirteen,” she said.
The noise around the table stilled.
Luna glanced at the boys — the older ones were all staring at the doctor now, their spoons forgotten, hands still.
“There’s no Thirteen,” Hunter said slowly, confusion colouring every word. “There are only twelve districts.”
District Thirteen was destroyed. Everyone knew that. It had been wiped out in the war — eighty-nine years ago.
Doctor Sara looked at him — and smiled.
“Well,” she said lightly, “someone should go tell us that because I’m pretty sure we don’t know we’re not supposed to exist.”
They all kept in silence, and Luna kept staring at her.
No, that…
How…
She remembered the footage. District Thirteen, broadcast constantly. Flattened buildings, charred concrete… just ruins left as a warning.
How could it exist?
But, well, the woman was standing right in front of her at this moment.
“Anyway,” Doctor Sara continued as if she hadn’t just reshaped their reality. “Your oldest boys will eventually move into those later classes. Because of our current situation, they’re offering more general knowledge now — no specialisation just yet. But they’ll get to learn alongside people already doing the work. Cooks, medics, communications specialists… and of course, soldiers.”
Luna’s gaze flicked toward the boys, and she caught the look Prince threw Hunter, even as Hunter stayed laser-focused on the doctor’s every word.
Luna swallowed hard. She tried not to let the glare show, but no—
That wasn’t good.
“I’m sure there’ll be more options once things settle,” Doctor Sara went on. “Eventually there’ll be travel between districts. Movement. Industries expanding beyond just one place. In thirty or forty years, this whole system will be nothing but a memory.”
No one said anything.
Doctor Sara stood with that stiff little smile still fixed on her face.
Lyme cleared her throat.
“The plan is for the children to join the classes after your interview is aired,” she explained. “We believe it’s the safest option, considering… everything.”
Luna just stared at her.
Of course.
Of fucking course they did.
All these people still thought she was some kind of double agent — some desperate plant dragged into their compound with her fingers clenched around her husband’s dead body and blood on her hands that wasn’t even hers.
Did they think she choked herself?
That she grew hands twice the size of her own, just to strangle the breath from her throat?
Crushed her own windpipe until she couldn’t speak for a week?
She didn’t say anything.
Instead, she turned her attention back to Blue, who was still eating his lentils carefully, spoon by spoon.
“How will the class adapt to Blue?” Luna asked quietly.
School had never done much for him — not really. If it had been up to them, they’d have shoved him into a crowded classroom and expected him to sit still, act like every other kid, and hide every little difficulty. Just like she had.
They were a lot alike, she and her boy. But his experience was still his own.
He was bright — already reading books, writing his name, and reciting the alphabet from memory. He could count just as well as a child years older. But even with all of that, Blue struggled. Following instructions didn’t come easily. Certain noises could overwhelm him. And those messy, hands-on activities — sand, slime, wet textures — he hated them. Just like she had.
Luna could read people. She’d learned to watch for moods, tones, shifts in the air. But Blue couldn’t — not yet. And children? Children could be cruel when they sensed differences.
She’d hired help before — a tutor to sit beside him in class, to guide him, shield him. It was one of the only things she’d been grateful for, being married to a victor. No one dared tell her no, back then.
“Well…” Doctor Sara began slowly, clearly searching for the right words. “It’s a small class. With your boys, there will be five children in total. Maybe… take it slow? Let him ease into it first.”
“Or don’t send him at all,” Mum cut in, her tone even.
Luna turned to look at her.
Mum simply lifted a spoonful of grains to her mouth and chewed — calm, unbothered, eyes fixed on the doctor.
She swallowed, set the spoon down, and spoke again, her voice steady in the quiet.
“Because we don’t know how long we’re going to be here. And it already took us a full week just to get him the slightest bit used to our new routine.”
She tilted her head slightly.
“So now you’re suggesting we spend… what, ten days adjusting him to another routine? One that will vanish the moment we’re released? Then we’ll be out there scrambling to build something new again?”
Luna looked back at the doctor.
“We’ll stick to keeping him at home,” she said. “But thank you for the offer.”
A long silence followed. Doctor Sara nodded — slowly, stiffly.
“Of course,” she replied. “I can write him an excuse.”
“I can find you some materials,” Lyme added. “Things that might help.”
Luna hummed in quiet agreement, and Mum cleared her throat.
“That’s very kind of you, Lyme. Thank you.”
No one said anything else after that. Only the soft sounds of the boys eating, and sipping water, filled the space.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Lyme stood.
“We should leave you to eat in peace,” she said. “Thank you for welcoming us.”
“I’ll walk you out,” Mum offered, already on her feet.
Luna watched them go, her eyes drifting back to the boys as she swallowed — instinctively bracing for the usual pain.
But it didn’t come, not as bad as before.
Oh.
So the medicine worked.
She let out a soft hum, brushing her fingers lightly over her shoulder, pressing just enough to make herself wince.
Alright.
Not perfect. But better.
Blue had scraped the last of his lentils and the rest of his food into his mouth by then, and Mum was already reaching for his plate. Luna helped him open the little bowl of dried fruit — dried peaches, sweet and wrinkled and probably a huge luxury around here.
It was a small portion — maybe a third of a peach if she would eye it. But it was something. It was nice.
“Come on, Blue,” Mum coaxed, gently nudging him closer to her side. “Let your mama eat her food.”
She placed Luna’s plate in front of her — heated rations, lentils likely cooked in a pan as tall as she was. Surviving food.
Meat, she supposed, went to more important people. She hadn’t been served any since arriving — instead, there were lentils, beans, chickpeas, and a strange white square of… something?
It was cooked. Slightly nutty.
She was glad not to be facing it two days in a row. Just the hefty portion in front of her was enough — they clearly wanted to fatten her up. Keep the two babies still breastfeeding from her fed and thriving. No one had said that out loud, but Luna could tell.
At least they cared about the children.
District 13.
Her eyes shifted toward Mum. Her brow furrowed.
District 13 was destroyed. It couldn’t exist.
And if they weren’t…
Well.
It made sense, didn’t it? That they would do this — hide, rebuild, wait?
But why wait nearly 90 years?
President Snow was much weaker now — that much Luna knew. He was in his 90s, probably closer to 100 than anyone else in any district ever reached. Maybe they were waiting for that. For his grip to loosen. For him to name a successor and step down.
But that never came.
He was still the president. Still clinging to power.
Cato had said many victors were involved in this.
So it had to be widespread, didn’t it? This movement — it was big. Bigger than she'd imagined.
And of course, she wouldn’t know. Why would she? She barely spoke to anyone. She barely left the house.
If they’d taken over this centre… where else were they?
How far did this go?
She’d never thought of it. Not once.
Luna ate without thinking — just mechanical movements.
The plate emptied quickly, and she was actually surprised to find it was gone when she reached for another spoonful.
Oh.
Mum came over and took the plate from her hands.
“How are you feeling?”
“Tired,” she mumbled.
Now that her stomach was full, everything in her went heavy. Her belly, her shoulders, her neck, her eyes…
“Doesn’t surprise me,” Mum said, resting a hand gently on her back. “You didn’t sleep at all last night.”
She leaned in without thinking, and her mother reached for her hair, pulling it back softly.
Before she could begin braiding, it was Prince who stepped up beside them.
“Can I do it?” he asked. “Braid it?”
They both paused.
“Of course,” they said together.
“Let me show you, honey,” Mum told him gently.
Luna stayed still as they moved carefully behind her, the familiar sensation of fingers brushing through her hair — parting, weaving — slowly easing the tension from her shoulders. Her body relaxed under their touch, and before she knew it, her eyes were already closing.
She nearly fell asleep at the table.
Mum tugged her up with a soft hand on her arm.
“Alright, that’s it,” she said, decisive but kind. “To bed.”
Luna groaned.
“The kids,” she protested.
“Oh, half of them are old enough to help me watch the other half,” Mum argued. “To bed. Go on. You deserve at least a nap.”
Well, her body didn’t give her much room to argue.
It was only when Luna woke up that she finally saw the result of Prince’s braiding — and it was… endearingly particular.
A little wonky. A little crooked.
A beginner’s braid. She shouldn’t be surprised.
Of course, Luna didn’t take it out until she absolutely had to brush her hair again. She wouldn’t squash his interest.
The next two days passed quietly, each one just as exhausting as the last.
Around midday the next day, Lyme arrived with someone else — not Doctor Sara — to give Luna another injection of medicine. This time, she also brought a briefing about the upcoming interview.
Finnick would be the one interviewing her. They wanted to show her some pictures, but reassured her they wouldn’t film her body — something Luna hadn’t even realised was a possibility, having her injuries shown to the cameras right there and then, in front of those strangers.
Lyme took one of her dresses for cleaning — a sundress, light and airy, with her arms left bare. It wasn’t her favourite, but she didn’t hate it either.
She brought some shoes too and spoke in a low voice to her mother about something Luna couldn’t quite catch.
On the third day, the day of the interview, she had to be ready by lunchtime.
She slipped into the sundress, and Mum was the one who brushed her hair, braiding it in the style of their district. A bun, tight twists wrapped with careful hands. Luna could feel Prince watching every motion. His eyes were locked on Mum’s fingers as if memorising each twist, each tuck, each pin as she wrapped the braids around it.
They’d asked him to come. More than that — he’d begged. Begged her to let him be there.
And it was something in his eyes — that fierce, steady pain — that had made it impossible to say no.
It was how he ended up in some clothes the rebels provided for him, his blonde hair slicked back. He looked… strange. Older.
Far too old.
It made Luna ache.
Her boy had grown up too fast.
She kissed each of her babies carefully before leaving.
Juni’s little belly was full — Mum could hold the fort as long as she didn’t get hungry again. And if she did, Luna could simply come back. They could wait.
She said goodbye to the boys, hoping for the best, and Lyme arrived, gave her the last injection, and they set off for the filming.
It wasn’t far — still within the centre, less than five minutes of quiet walking. It felt more like walking into a basement than an interview.
The room was empty, and plain, with chairs arranged deliberately: two in front of the cameras, two behind.
One person was manning the equipment, but that was it.
And Finnick
He stood in front of it all, the only splash of ease in such a sterile space — a charming smile on his face, looking like he belonged anywhere but here. His clothes matched Prince’s as closely as they could. Probably to help him blend in, and soften the lines.
“Luna,” he said, gently. “What a pleasure to see you.”
She breathed out, settling as he came to stand before her.
“Finnick,” she returned.
Prince stepped up beside her. She turned her body, catching the way he looked up at Finnick — cheeks a little bit pink, shoulders all tense.
“This is Prince,” she introduced softly. “My oldest.”
“Prince?” Finnick blinked, momentarily puzzled.
Of course — that wouldn’t be the name on any Capitol record.
But the confusion passed quickly, melting into warmth.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Prince,” he said with a smile. “I hear you’re a very brave young man.”
Her baby boy blushed a little deeper.
“I try,” he mumbled, shy.
Oh.
It wasn’t often she saw Prince like this — small again, unsure.
“The bravest,” she confirmed softly, squeezing his hand.
Finnick smiled at them, reassuring.
“I know Lyme’s already gone over the briefing,” he said, motioning toward the setup, “but I want to show you a few things before we start.”
Luna followed, keeping Prince close, his hand still in hers.
She hadn’t realized how much she needed that touch — grounding, solid.
If Mum weren’t with the little ones, she’d want her here instead.
“We’ll be using these chairs,” Finnick explained, gesturing. “And the cameras will focus just on us.”
Luna nodded quietly. Yes, she was familiar with cameras — though that didn’t make anything easier.
“We also have a monitor,” he said, turning slightly. “It’ll be facing away from us to start.”
He gave a soft nod, and the woman behind the equipment pressed a button. The screen slowly rotated to face them. Luna caught her own face reflected back, stiff and too pale.
“But when it’s time to bring up the photos,” Finnick continued gently, “I’ll turn it back to us. Only if you’re okay with that.”
Luna inhaled slowly.
Was she okay with it? No.
Did she have a choice? Not really.
But at least it would be turned in her direction — not Prince’s.
“Of course,” she mumbled.
“I know Juniper is in the room nearby,” Finnick said. “Soldier Jones is on watch, and he’ll call you immediately if she needs anything. Or your youngest boy.”
She nodded, feeling her throat tighten.
“There’s no rush,” he went on. “If you need to breathe, drink, pause, take something for the pain — anything — we follow your pace.”
Luna exhaled again, slowly, rubbing her thumb over the back of Prince’s hand to soothe herself.
Well.
In the grand scheme of things, this was the least terrible way it could be done.
At last, Finnick turned to her, giving her a gentle smile.
“Can we start?”
Chapter 19: Epilogue (4/5)
Summary:
Finnick interviews Luna and Prince about life with Cato.
Hopefully for the last time, she talks about her 15 years of marriage.
Chapter Text
They started with a video of her.
It wasn’t long — not really — but to Luna, it felt endless.
A montage, stitched together from every one of her public appearances. It began with that first interview with Caesar, where she told all of Panem she was pregnant while Cato fought for his life in the arena. Then the clip of him returning, and her waiting at the train station.
They had tried to make her a dark blonde in those early years — dyed and dolled up. It didn’t suit her. It hadn’t worked.
It had only made her skin crawl.
Then came the rest.
Fourteen years of footage, of her being paraded by Cato like a prized pet.
The Capitol’s Delight.
The Capitol’s Delight.
The Capitol’s Delight.
The phrase echoed, again and again, over images of her smiling, waving, posing, sculpting, laughing, and kissing Cato…
Never her words.
Just the title they forced on her.
With every year, her hair grew longer. Wavier.
Her body thinner.
In the final image, when she was pregnant with Juni, she was nearly gaunt. A ghost of herself.
She looked gaunt now too, didn’t she?
That was what Luna felt like. Just bones in a skin suit.
Finnick followed it with a little introduction, one she knew he’d rehearsed, maybe said a dozen times before — but it didn’t sound like a performance.
He spoke of his own story. How the Capitol sold its Victors to the highest bidder. How it twisted love, weaponised beauty and riches, corrupted everyone it touched.
And everyone around it.
“I know the stories of many Victors,” Finnick said, steady and sure, eyes on the camera. “I saw it happen. I lived through the Capitol’s abuse and spoke about it myself. But there’s one story I never expected to hear — one I was never granted the chance to witness until now. I don’t think anyone was, not before this month, not before she chose to let us in — even just a little — on the truth.”
The camera shifted, wires humming softly as it refocused on her. Luna drew in a breath, sharp and quiet, her fingers knotting in her lap. No rings to twist now. Just skin, just nerves.
“Luna,” Finnick said, turning toward her with a candid voice. “Thank you again for giving me this time. I know you’re busy, and the past week has been exhausting — not just for you, but for your family. I know this moment isn’t easy.”
She inhaled again, deeper this time.
“Thank you, Finnick,” she mumbled, then winced — flinching at her own voice at the mess up. “I mean — you’re… welcome. You’re welcome.”
His smile was soft, patient.
She met his eyes, just for a moment, and then looked away. It was harder than she thought it would be. Speaking.
But Finnick waited. The whole room waited.
Even the cameras, somehow, felt like they were holding their breath.
“I… don’t know how to begin,” she admitted in a mumble.
“That’s alright,” Finnick replied. “You don’t need to begin perfectly. Just honestly.”
She nodded, swallowing, but still lowered her eyes, not knowing what to say. This was hard, very hard.
“Maybe from the start?” he offered quietly.
She turned her head. Prince was staring at her from his seat, his eyes wide, full of worry.
So Luna took another breath, steadying herself.
“I officially met Cato when I was seventeen,” she said at last, turning back to Finnick. “I think everyone knows that. We were in the same year of school, but we never interacted, and... well, I think he told that part of that story more than once — how I needed a model for a sculpture I was doing and… well. He was good-looking.”
Finnick chuckled, and Luna did too — lightly, even against her own will for a moment.
That had been the fun part of it all. Cato was a good-looking boy, tall and strong, and she was a girl who had fallen head over heels for him.
“He didn’t have much,” she added. “His mother had died, and his father was a Peacekeeper — stationed in another district, and… abusive.”
Her voice wavered as she frowned, remembering his words.
“He used to imply,” she went on, “that his father had something to do with her death. That of his mother. But he never explained it. Never pointed fingers, not directly.”
Her hand drifted to her neck without thinking, right where he had wrapped his hands around.
“There was one story,” Luna decided, lowering it. “He told me once that he walked in and found his father strangling her. That he fought him off.”
She looked down, and a bitter smile came to her face, an old one.
“That was his greatest fear when we were young. Becoming him.”
The irony was heabvy as the air thickened between them, and she didn’t need look to know that it was Prince who had chuckled when she heard the sound, almost cruelly, because he knew.
“It was after the Seventy-Third Games,” she continued, steadier now. “Sometime after his birthday and when the school year ended, we started dating. And eventually, he just… moved in. With me. With my parents and my siblings, too.”
She looked at one of the walls, feeling her eyes unfocusing, that old memory playing in her mind.
“My mum had a lot of affection for him. She knew he didn’t have anyone else, so she thought… he should have us,” Luna breathed. “So he lived at our house. And because I had sold that first sculpture, I added my earnings to our family’s budget to help cover the cost of another person living with us.”
She paused, frowning as it dawned on her.
“I’ve never said that out loud,” Luna realised. “How much we did for him. How much we gave him.”
And how little that seemed to matter in the end.
“Then he went into the arena… and I found out I was pregnant,” she continued, almost mechanically, nodding. “I think it was during the chariot ride, actually.”
She gave Finnick a sad smile, and he returned it.
Luna could almost feel the prickle of the pregnancy reader on her arm.
“Well, my mother knew before I did. I was sick all the time and suddenly craving strawberries like my life depended on it. I even started stealing them from the neighbours.”
She laughed softly again, but it was hard to keep the bitterness from it, even if the story just felt detatched, and Finnick returned with a quiet, knowing smile — like he’d heard stories like this before, maybe lived them too.
“Then the Games happened. The interview, his win... you know, everything the world saw.”
Luna looked at him again, serious, feeling a pit in her stomach as her hand moved to her belly.
“The Victory Tour… they made me wear a fake belly for it,” she told him, the memory as painful now as it was before. “I must’ve been six or seven months along, but I wasn’t showing much. They didn’t like that — said it didn’t read well on camera. So they strapped this massive belly to me and taught me how to waddle.”
Luna scoffed. As if she being pregnant was not enough, as if having her privacy taken away was not enough. she had to give them what they wanted how they wanted and not an inch differently.
“That was such a stupid day,” she spat out.
She paused, swallowing away, rubbing her fingers over the fabric of her dress.
“My babies never showed that much when I carried them, I have a long torso, I think,” Luna explained, almost to herself. “The doctors said it was normal. Thinking now… I wonder if that should’ve been the first sign. That things weren’t going to go the way I wanted. But I was naive. I stayed naive for a long time.”
She took in a long breath, steadying her breath and her back. It was easy to be naive and to believe in a greater good, to have that strong believe that everything was better in the end, and if things weren’t better now, then it meant it wasn’t over.
“We had our first baby. Then our second, not long after. Those were the easy years. The good years.”
Her voice softened, the memories of the boys just flooding her mind. Prince and Hunter, nearly identical if not for their ages. They were the sweetest babies, and they were so close.
“When it was just us four… Cato was easier to be around,” she told Finnick. “We didn’t have many problems. We were just this little family — two tired parents, two babies, and a kind of peace I didn’t realise was temporary.”
She rubbed her thumb over the palm of her hand, her immobilised arm close to her chest.
“I think…” she started and then hesitated, then continued. “I think Cato still managed to compartmentalise everything back then. Keep it all buried. He never talked about the Capitol, not once. We tried our best to blend into our District. Just be normal.”
She closed her eyes, sighing. Normal. They had never been normal, and yet she was so obsessed with it. He too, from day one, even if he did not say the words, it was what he wanted.
“And for a while… we almost were,” she told Finning. “Even with the interviews and being invasive. Our own version of normal.”
Her fingers curled against her chest as she took ina breath, muscles aching from the tension, and she was grateful none of the kids would be seeing this. She couldn’t imagine them listening to this, she couldn’t imagine Ted knowing this...
“Looking back… I think things started to go wrong after we had our third. That’s when his nightmares got worse. He’d wake me up in the middle of the night — sometimes pressing me down into the bed, sometimes… fighting me, like I was the enemy.”
Her fingers rubbed the brace.
Those weren’t his fault, she knew that. And yet, she couldn’t pull her mind from how that was just a hint of everything, from how much of a warning those nightmares were.
If she had left then, or forced him into some... care? Maybe?
Would doing something change anything?
“By the time we’d been married seven years… our fights had changed. They were—”
Luna hesitated, lips pressing into a thin line. No word felt right. Nothing felt big enough to hold what that meant.
Fuck.
Luna looked at Prince again, his pretty eyes nearly unblinking.
“When Cato came back from the Capitol,” she said, not looking at Finnick yet, “he always expected one thing.”
She saw it in her mind like a book of pictures — that one day her baby had clung to her like a lifeline, just wanting to snuggle, crying because they’d woken him up so suddenly, and all she could think about was whether Cato would walk in and find her absent from the doorway.
“He wanted me waiting at the door. No matter the hour. Dressed up. Smiling. Kiss ready.”
She blinked slowly, turning back to Finnick.
“If I wasn’t there, it got bad. It led to horrible fights.”
Finnick’s face softened, but she couldn’t look at him. Luna just looked away again as shame burnt in her chest and belly.
Calling them fights felt wrong.
“No,” she whispered, correcting herself almost forcefully.
That was the time to say it, right? They were listening to her now!
“He fought me. And I… I took it.”
She squeezed her skirt tighter, knuckles turning pale.
“Cato liked to get in my face,” she squeezed her hand in a fist. “To shut me up. And he was always taller. Stronger. Since day one. He liked showing it”
Her jaw trembled a bit as she tightened it.
“I was terrified of him. That he would…”
Her hand jumped to her neck without thought, rubbing her skin as she fell into silence again, the ghost of his hands creeping around her again.
God, she was so stupid. So stupid, believing it was normal to be afraid of him, of her husband! Thinking it was just a phase, just something that would pass.
Finnick waited. So did everyone else. And then her mother’s voice echoed in her head. Just because he wasn’t violent, doesn’t mean it wasn’t wrong.
Her breath hitched.
“He started…” she tried to say, but the words caught. Her throat tightened and she sniffled, her eyes burning up. “He started…”
Prince breathed in so sharply it cut right through her, and that was it. Her eyes burned and blurred, and her face was suddenly wet as her shoulders tightened.
“No,” she shook her head and then looked at Lyme, lips tugging down on their own. “I’m sorry — can you take him out of here?”
Finnick exhaled, soft and careful, and Prince was already on his feet.
“Mum—”
“No,” she looked at him, her voice as firm as she could make it, even if she was honestly shaking. “You’ll not listen to this.”
He was just a child. Prince already knew Cato was a monster — he didn’t need more details. Especially not these.
Lyme stood up, patting his back.
“Come on, let’s get you some air,” she called.
But Prince stomped his foot, looking ever the child as his cheeks pinked and his eyebrows tightened.
“I want to stay!”
Luna held herself together — eyes steady, voice even, her face as composed as she could.
“We’ll call you back for the part you already know,” she said. “But go now.”
Her boy pouted but obeyed, and when the door shut behind him, Finnick wordlessly offered her a handkerchief.
“Thank you,” she mumbled.
Luna took a long breath, then two and three, trying to steady up.
Okay.
She could do it, she could... she could do it.
“He... started forcing me into sex around that time,” Luna practically spat, the words bitter as they refused to leave her. “Seven years in. He told me that if he didn’t get to choose when he would… be intimate… then it was the least I could do.”
“I’m sorry,” Finnick said gently.
Luna wiped at her face, blinking hard.
Well… yeah.
That…
Yeah.
She sat in silence, trying to breathe through it, her throat tightening as her mind filled up with everything. She couldn’t stop the way her lips trembled, or the little sob that came from her — the quiet, shaky little huffs she tried to swallow down.
She clenched the arms of the chair, eyes shut tight.
“It’s okay,” Finnick spoke softly.
Luna dried her face roughly and looked straight at him.
“I don’t want them to know,” she said firmly. “They know enough. They’ve seen enough.”
Her boys had seen too much. Prince had lived too much. They didn’t need this, too. She wouldn’t let them carry it.
Who would ever tell their children something like this?
“They don’t have to,” he affirmed firmly. “They don’t ever have to know.”
Luna wiped her face again, breathing in deep one more.
“He always humiliated me. Called me stupid. Useless,” she cleaned her nose with the handkerchief. “Because of my condition.”
As soon as power climbed to his head, he seemed to have forgotten everything she did for him, every way he needed her.
Finnick’s eyes softened with sorrow.
“You’re none of those things,” he said quietly but still firmly.
Luna shook her head, the exhaustion making her bones heavy. She knew that, of course she fucking knew that!
“You know,” she gave him a bitter smile, “he used to say he liked me because of it.”
She pressed her lips together.
“Normal girls are boring, he told me once,” she sniffed, the hot anger in her stomach replacing her earlier panic. “And then he turned around and made damn sure I knew every little thing I couldn’t do and rub it in my face how lucky I was he chose me.”
She cleared her throat, setting the handkerchief on her lap.
“He was yelling that to me…” she breathed out. “When he hit me the first time.”
Luna stopped, trying to pull the memory back — what had they even argued about before he brought up the boys? She had buried it so deep, she wanted to foget it.
Did it even matter any more?
“It was after the interview for our tenth anniversary,” she decided. “If you go back and look at the footage… not even an hour later.”
She shook her head again as it finally came to her, and her stomach felt even hotter with fire and fear.
“He wanted to send our boys to the Games,” Luna realised, voice breaking. “And that’s not something I could ever — ever — do. You of all people have to know that.”
Finnick nodded.
“I wouldn’t,” he said. “If I had siblings. If I were a parent. I’d never let them set foot in an arena, even if it took me everything to stop it.”
Luna met his eyes and nodded slowly.
Exactly.
“I guess I said something he didn’t like. I was furious,” she spat, the memory burning in her throat. “He grabbed me so hard it bruised half my arm. And then he hit me.”
She paused, searching the moment.
Was it a slap? Couldn’t have been a punch, no. He would have aimed for her eye, then, and it was her mouth that was swollen.
“My cheek, I think,” she gestured to her face with her good hand. “And then that night, he knelt in front of me and said he would change.”
Stupid.
She was so fucking stupid not to have packed her things, grabbed the boys, and left that same night — while he was still feeling guilty, while her parents and Juno were there, ready to help.
“Did he?” Finnick asked gently.
“I don’t know, Finnick, look at me,” she snapped.
Did he really think she’d be in this state if anything had changed for the better?
Luna grimaced just a second after, and Finnick looked down, clearly embarrassed.
“I’m sorry,” she blurted quickly. “That was not — I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said this.”
“It’s fine,” he assured her, his voice gentle. “It was a stupid question.”
Luna inhaled, rubbing her face, nervous as they fell into silence again, trying to collect herself.
But really, if she wanted to calm down, she would need to shut up. There was no way talking about this was ever going to easy.
“It got worse,” she continued, feeling her voice becoming raspy again.
Finnick exhaled softly, eyes full of quiet grief.
“The last five years were just… one long torture session,” she said quietly. “That’s all it was. I didn’t even know who I was any more.”
She couldn’t look at herself in the mirror — hadn’t, in a long time.
“I could barely eat. Just enough to keep going, just enough to feed the kids. I couldn’t sleep, either… my enemy was right there. In my bed. How do you sleep when you sleep with danger?”
And Cato had insisted on touching her. Pushed and pushed and pushed… got her fucking drunk just to get his way.
“I lived for my kids,” she said firmly, even if she couldn't see a thing over the blur in her eyes. “I love them so much and they are wonderful. They’re the only good thing Cato ever did in his life. Sweet, beautiful and kind children..”
Finnick nodded, smiling softly to her as her eyes filled with tears again.
“They take after you,” he affirmed, his voice gentle.
She pressed her lips together, but smiled a little before straighteneing her shoulders.
“I tried to shield them. Cato never really looked at them. He left all the child care to me, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“He always posed like a proud father,” Finnick said quietly.
She held back a scoff.
“He liked showing them off,” Luna corrected, her voice dry. “He…”
She closed her eyes, remembering Dash's soft words that morning, and chuckled — the sound made of half sadness, half amusement.
“My littlest boy didn’t even recognize him,” she told him. “The day before… everything…”
Luna paused, breathing slowly.
Everything.
“He asked me who he was. Called him ‘The Strange Man.’”
Finnick half smirked.
“I’m sure that was a wake-up call.”
Luna let out a long sigh.
“Yeah,” she mumbled. “It was. Probably what set everything off.”
Finnick inhaled deeply, his face sobering completely.
“Can you tell me about that day?” he asked gently. “The final day?”
Luna pressed her lips together, swallowing hard as she sniffed.
“Days,” she said quietly. “Final days.”
The door creaked open, and Luna turned to see Lyme stepping in, with Prince peeking in behind her, his sweet face serious.
“You can come in,” she looked at him.
Her boy entered quickly, making a beeline for the monitor, his body all tense and twitchy with nerves.
“Sit,” Luna said gently. “Breathe.”
Prince pouted.
“Mama…” he protested, his voice small.
“I’m okay,” she said, keeping her eyes on him.
The words were for both of them.
She was okay.
This was just a conversation.
Cato was gone.
Prince scowled, and Luna lifted her hand to her chest, inhaling deeply, gesturing for him to do the same thing. He watched her and mirrored the breath, exhaling slowly, nodding to himself.
She did it again, for herself.
Oh, her sweet boy.
She leaned back in the chair, trying to untangle the mess in her mind, to find the moment where it had all begun — those final days. But it was all a blur, one long storm of fear and all the worst feelings.
“We were fighting nearly every day by then,” she said, looking at Finnick again. “I think… I’m pretty sure our last normal fight before he left for the Capitol was about the kids.”
“About the kids?” he echoed.
She confirmed softly, her eyes moving to Prince. Her memory was sharp — it always was when it came to the kids.
She sighed.
“When he was around, he made sure to treat them terribly. He’d pick fights with them for no reason. Cato wanted to be the head of the house — the one they feared and followed.”
“And he wasn’t,” Finnick pointed.
Luna scoffed, rolling her eyes.
“He was a stranger!” she corrected him. “That usually meant I could be with them all the time. I was the one raising them, teaching them, loving them. I didn’t have to worry about him filling their heads with poison. Not until…”
Luna paused, shifting her jaw. That disagrace of a man and his fucking plans. Always putting their kids on the line, always doing things for his own satisfaction.
“There was a competition coming up. He wanted the two older boys to train and compete against each other for a spot.”
Finnick leaned forward a little.
“Training competitions,” he said. “Right?”
Yeah, she knew what he was asking for. The illegal kind.
“Yes. They happen all the time. Kids who wanted to volunteer for the Hunger Games would join them.”
“Which is against the rules,” he added, voice low.
Luna scoffed again.
“The Victors themselves ran them,” she point out. “The Capitol knew. If it didn’t like it, it had every chance to stop it, but it never did. I bet they put money into it themselves, if they could.”
She had dated Cato all through his last year of training.
The Capitol loved their Career Tributes — they were their little trophies, walking propaganda. And Cato had been one of their finest.
“And your two oldest?” Finnick said slowly.
Luna stared at him, unblinking. Waiting.
She knew where this was going. She would not talk about her children more than she wanted to. They all knew that.
“They're in reaping age now, aren’t they?”
She swallowed.
“Yes.”
The silence settled over them like fog, and Finnick waited, maybe hoping she’d fill it. When it became clear she wouldn’t, he cleared his throat.
“And you hated the competitions, I presume?”
He presumed? Had he just walked into the room?
“Wouldn’t you?” she asked back, frowning. “Children being needlessly violent toward each other. Fighting so they can fight to the death with other children. That’s not training, that’s conditioning.”
She breathed in, shaking her head.
But they were veering away from the point.
“Besides those, he wouldn’t even look at them,” she said, voice softer now. “One of the children once said…”
Luna paused, her throat tightening. The way Hunter had curled in her arms that night, with his eyes puffy from crying, his little voice breaking as he asked why he didn’t love him any more.
“One of them said the only time he looked at them was to yell,” she whispered.
Her arms tingled. The tears stung her eyes, but she blinked them away.
“That’s what I was stressed about while he was gone — the competition. I thought he’d be away for three, maybe four days. But then…”
Her voice faltered.
“He came home the next afternoon. I saw him at the nursery.”
She stopped again, bracing herself, breathing slowly, trying to fill up her longs.
The image of him with Juni in his arms still twisted her stomach, even now.
Cato — as big as a mountain — holding her tiny baby girl like he had any right.
“He did his usual thing,” she looked at the wall. “Rubbed it in my face how much he’d done for us, how we were nothing without him.”
Luna shifted her jaw, her eyes unfocused before she closed them and the silence thickened.
She could still feel it on her skin — being crowded, cornered, the heat of his body as he stood too close to hers, talking and talking and talking, all about himself. About how useless she was. How lucky she should feel.
“Then he told me about an offer he got in the Capitol,” she continued, low, bitter.
A foul taste filled her mouth just recalling it.
“I had to spend a few days with his… benefactor,” she spat the word. “In exchange for protection. All his, for a week for a lifetime of freedom. His own words.”
Her lip curled in disgust.
No more Games, no more Capitol. And all he’s asking for is a few nights with the most desired woman in District Two.
That’s what Cato had said.
“And then, as if that wasn’t enough, he twisted it all by bringing up our daughter. Said everyone congratulated him on her birth. Said she was a beautiful girl.”
Luna’s squeezed the fabric of her dress.
“They couldn’t wait for her to grow up,” she whispered. “To volunteer. To win.”
She looked at Finnick, the weight of it landing all at once.
“All so I would say yes,” she told him, voice and face flat. “So I wouldn’t think of anything else but protecting her.”
Her eyes stung and her lips twisted down. Luna raised a hand, trying to wipe the tears away again.
“That is horrible,” Finnick said quietly. “Who made that offer?”
She turned to him, sharp and sure now.
“Someone who was part of the Rebellion,” she said. “From the Capitol.”
Finnick stiffened, back going straight and face alert. Well, they probably were not expecting this.
They liked to think they were so much better than the Capitol, didn’t they? And yet, they acted all the same.
“I can assure you,” he said at last, very steady, “you’re not expected to do anything of the sort to be protected by us, Luna. Whoever that man was… he doesn’t represent our cause.”
She looked away from him, looking at Lyme, but her old friend quickly looked away, clearly embarrassed.
Sure.
Whatever they said.
Her silence stretched as she sifted through the haze, trying to put together the puzzle in the right way, the right order. But nothing came — just a blur. A memory of Dash asking who Cato was and then…
Or was that another day? The next?
Everything had started blending together.
“He left the house,” she said slowly, still processing it. “I don’t remember why. I don’t… I don’t know.”
Luna frowned, frustration making her squirm.
“It’s alright,” Finnick assured her gently.
“I just remember him coming home,” she continued, that part clear. “The kids were at school. The little ones were sleeping. He was stinking of alcohol.”
Her frown deepened.
“Did he usually drink?” Finnick asked.
She scowled.
“No. He thought it was beneath him. Stupid.”
Luna’s fingers tightened on the fabric of her dress as she tried to pinpoint what had been different that day. Why after so long just standing down, she had decided to fight back.
“Anyway... he started picking a fight again,” she said, looking away. “He screamed. Tried to corner me again. And I just… snapped.”
She couldn’t remember most of the words she’d said, maybe because the pain that followed had swallowed them whole.
But she remembered the feeling.
That fury — sharp and old, brewed for years on end — boiling over at last. The relief of finally being the one screaming. Of telling him everything she’d been holding in. Of shoving the truth right into his face.
“He hated that,” she shook her head. “So he grabbed me. Made me shut up.”
Finnick took a slow, steadying breath.
“Do you remember where he hit you?”
Her eyes snapped up to meet his, startled. She tried to think — but everything hurt. How could she choose just one place?
“Your head,” Prince said quietly.
Luna tried to turn her neck to look at him, but the brace stopped her. It didn’t stop the pain, though — duller now than before, no longer sharp enough to make her cry out, but still there.
“What?” she asked.
Her boy looked up at her, eyes wide, soft, and aching.
“He hit your head,” he explained. “He kicked it right when I walked in.”
Luna stared at him, stunned.
Cato had not—
She blinked, trying to piece the memory together, but it was all fog.
“And that’s how your arm got hurt. Your shoulder, too. He was kicking you.”
She could only look at him, unable to speak, her stomach churning with the flood of shame, fury, and helplessness all at once.
“He kicked your belly,” Prince continued quietly, almost detached. “And your back. He punched your face so much…”
His voice cracked then, cheeks flushing pink as tears welled in his eyes — and in hers.
“Luna,” Finnick said gently.
She looked at him, still frozen.
“Can he sit with us?” Finnick asked. “Can he tell his side?”
“No!” she answered without thinking, the word escaping her like a reflex.
She wasn’t going to let him carry that. Not him. Not her boy. Not like that.
But when she looked at Prince again, his eyes were soft, pleading.
“Mama,” he whispered. “Please?”
Luna stared at him, the tears slipping quietly down her cheeks.
“Please,” he said again, begging.
She closed her eyes. He was just a kid. He shouldn’t have to carry any of this. He shouldn’t have to speak it out loud.
“I want to,” he said, firmer this time. “I want to tell it.”
Luna swallowed hard, not a bone in her able to fight him.
“Fine,” she breathed.
Finnick didn’t waste a moment. He got up, grabbed Prince’s chair, and brought it to Luna’s side. The scrape of the legs across the floor sounded louder than it should have.
She couldn’t look at her son when he took his seat, but then she felt his fingers reach out and wrap around hers right away. He squeezed her hand, steady and warm, and it was hard to hold her sobs in her body.
“Hello,” Finnick said gently.
“Hi,” her son replied, voice slow and cautious.
Luna squeezed his hand, trying to keep her breath steady.
“You were explaining some things earlier, in the back,” Finnick continued. “You were there when it happened?”
Prince exhaled, shoulders tight.
“Yeah,” he mumbled. “I… both times. I was there both times.”
She squeezed his hand more, lowering her eyes. He shouldn’t have. He shouldn’t have seen anything.
“You’re the oldest, right?” Finnick asked, his voice soft. “Would you mind introducing yourself?”
Her son nodded, all tense.
Her son gave a stiff little nod, tension written all over him.
“I’m Cato,” he said quietly.
Then he paused — jaw tightening, mouth pressing into a line before he forced the words out again, this time laced with something sharp and sour.
“I’m Cato,” he repeated, “Cato Gaius Hadley, the Second.”
She raised his hand to her lips and kissed his knuckles softly.
“Thank you for speaking with us, Cato,” Finnick said, his tone full of quiet respect. “You’re very protective of your mother. I could feel you watching my every move.”
Prince glanced at her as she kept his hand close, her lips still pressed to his skin.
“She’s my mama,” he said, lowering his eyes. “Someone has to protect her.”
Luna let out a slow, weary sigh, and he squeezed her hand tightly in return.
“You saw what happened?” Finnick asked gently. “That day?”
Prince nodded.
“I was coming home,” he explained, voice a little steadier now. “With my brothers. We always walk back together — everyone. And I heard something… off. So I ran ahead into the house, and he was — he was over her.”
Luna closed her eyes, the memory of the pain still sharp, even if the bruises of the day had faded.
“I never…” Prince faltered, his voice trailing into a whisper. “I’ve never seen anything like that.”
“And you shouldn’t have,” Luna mumbled.
Finnick didn’t respond right away. They sat in silence for a long moment as Prince took in a deep breath.
“He stopped when he realised we were home,” Prince said quietly. “But I saw some of it. I know he punched her, her face was all bruised. And he was… he was kicking her head. It was really scary.”
Luna sniffed, trying to hold in the sound, but gave up on not crying. The tears kept coming anyway.
“We hid our youngest brothers,” Prince continued. “Us — the older boys. We didn’t let them see it. He ran away, and we got the kids inside.”
Luna remembered the crying, all the sobbing the way they called her name over and over. She remembered lying, saying it was an accident, apologising like that would make it better.
“One of the boys grabbed the first aid kit,” Prince went on. “And I looked her over to see what was wrong. Her eyebrow was cut, and her face was all swollen. We tried to use that fancy cream we had… the one for accidents.”
“I never let things get to this point,” Luna hissed quickly, her voice shaky. “They’d never seen anything — never heard anything between us. Never.”
Finnick and Prince looked at her.
Both Finnick and Prince looked at her.
“They’re children,” she snapped. “They’re not meant to know those things!”
“But we knew,” Prince said softly.
Luna turned to him, twisting her body despite the discomfort.
“We… we always knew you two didn’t get along,” he said, locking eyes with her. “We always knew he was violent.”
Her lip trembled.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, squeezing his hand.
“He broke our toys for no reason,” Prince said, turning to Finnick. “He broke my door — three different times, growing up. He was always yelling. That’s all he ever did when he paid attention to us, yell at us. Try to show he was in control.”
He looked at Luna again.
“That’s why Mum never let him near us. She protected us from him.”
She rubbed his hand gently, her eyes locked on his.
“I didn’t know he hit her,” Prince said softly, looking at her. “If I had… I would’ve done something.”
Luna squeezed his hand again.
“You’re a child,” she told him gently. “It’s not your job to fix that.”
“But he shouldn’t do that!” Prince protested, his voice rising. “He shouldn’t have done any of it!”
“I know. But that doesn’t mean it’s your responsibility.”
His thin lips curled into a soft pout, and she watched as he sniffed, blinking to keep himself from crying.
“You’re my mum,” he mumbled, voice tight.
Then his face hardened, and he looked at Finnick, his eyes full of anger now.
“I knew I shouldn’t have left her alone! I should’ve stayed in her room like I did the night before.”
“What happened that night?” Finnick asked.
They both turned to look at him. Luna breathed in deeply, trying to keep herself straight.
She would have to speak about it. She knew that.
And yet…
Prince looked at her again, his eyes full of worry.
“He wasn’t home when I went to bed,” he explained. "I don’t know when he came back.”
Luna took another breath, deeper this time, and Prince picked the handkerchief from her lap, placing it in her hand. She wiped her cheeks and nose slowly.
They waited.
“Cato came home in the middle of the night,” Luna explained. “Sometime before sunrise.”
She paused, straightening her back.
“He looked… erratic,” she continued. “I don’t know what was wrong with him. I didn’t care, to be honest.”
Luna swallowed, closing her eyes for a moment. He looked like an apparition, those unexplained dreams one had when they couldn’t wake up fully when they were stuck between sleep and consciousness and paralysed by it.
“I tried to convince him to leave,” she said, voice tight. “I told him we could talk in the morning. But he insisted. He kept going on about fixing what had happened.”
She could still see him: the flowers in his hand, eyes completely hollowed, the way he followed her like a predator stalking wounded prey.
“I locked myself in the nursery,” she forced out, almost spitting the words. “He kept talking about regrets, about being sorry. I tried to keep him calm. I just… I didn’t want to make him snap.”
She’d been so focused on appeasing him, on not provoking anything worse. As if it would change anything.
Her voice cracked as she went on.
“I blocked the door. I dragged a chair against it. And he... he just broke through. Like it was nothing! Shoved it aside and dragged me back into the room,” her voice cracked. “And I cried. I — I was so desperate.”
She pressed her lips together, hard.
Would anything have changed if she hadn’t done any of what she did? If she’d just let him do what he wanted? Would he have hurt her less? More?
“He said I was his,” she whispered.
Those were his words, she remembered that. Cato holding her tightly, growling like a rabid dog, that she was his!
Like she was a pet! Like she was anything but human.
“I told him to leave,” she said, stronger this time.
“You told him to get out,” Prince echoed.
She turned to him, surprised.
“You screamed it,” he said, eyes locked on hers. “Get out. That’s what woke me up.”
Prince took a shaky breath, visibly forcing the words out.
“It wasn’t just me who woke up,” he added softly.
His eyes moved to look at Finnick, then the camera, before focusing on her again.
“Two and Three,” he added, his voice barely above a whisper.
Hunter and Ted.
Luna’s heart squeezed painfully in her chest. Her little boys.
“I told them to stay downstairs,” Prince continued, his voice flat with the kind of restraint that only came from remembering something too clearly. “Told them to lock the door with the younger ones if I screamed. Someone had to protect them if he… if he came down.”
Luna inhaled, trying — failing — to steady herself. Her throat tightened and burned and the shame of it all clung to her like growing vines.
Prince turned to Finnick.
“I went upstairs,” he said, and paused, swallowing visibly. “And I saw him choking her.”
Luna’s breath left her body in a small, broken sound.
God.
“Her feet were off the ground. He was squeezing so hard. I could see her face... it was all purple!” his voice trembled. “And she wasn’t even fighting any more!” he practically spat, shaking.
He opened and closed his mouth as she watched him, unmoving, frozen.
She could barely feel her own limbs, her body felt like it wasn’t even hers as she watched him tell it. Luna was numb, heavy, like she was just one of her statues. She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t breathe.
Prince blinked quickly, jaw clenched as his voice cracked.
“I panicked,” he admitted. “I grabbed something… I think it was decoration. A vase? I don’t know. I just — hit him with it. On the head.”
Luna’s heart pounded against her ribs.
“And he dropped her,” Prince said, looking at her now, eyes wet with tears. “I heard her hit the floor.”
Prince squeezed her hand tightly, and the blur in her eyes just became tears.
“I thought she was dead,” he whispered, terrified. “That I was too late.”
She took his hand once more, kissing his knuckles again and again. She just to pull him into her arms, wrap him up like he was just a tiny baby again. But she couldn’t. If she did, she would shatter — more than now, more than she had already broken.
“I saw Cato going to him,” Luna whispered, breath hitching. “I didn’t know it was him at first — I just saw one of my boys, cornered… with that monster over him. And I didn’t think. I didn’t hesitate. I jumped on him.”
Her voice cracked, her whole chest shaking as she closed her eyes.
“I dug my fingers into his eyes,” she confessed, her voice raw. “I wanted to blind him. I wanted him to scream. I wanted him away from you.”
A sob broke free and shook through her spine, even as she bit down on her lip to silence herself.
“He punched me,” Prince said softly beside her. “I think… I think he was going to choke me too.”
Silence settled again between them, thick as smoke. Luna couldn’t speak. She was trying — really trying — to hold in the crying, but her breaths were just greedy gulps of air.
“Mama,” Prince whispered.
“I can do it,” she hissed between her teeth.
She said she was going to tell them the story, she was going to tell them the story. And then they would never speak of it again!
Her voice was shaking, but she forced it forward, dragging it from the bottom of her lungs.
“He slammed me against the wall,” she hissed. “The mirror. Again and again. All I could think was to get my boy out. Just go. Run. Grab the nanny, the kids — get away from this place.”
Looking back… she might as well have been ready to die. If Prince hadn’t come back with the sword, she knew she was going to die.
“I found his sword,” Prince spoke up, his voice trembling as he turned to Finnick. “The one he had made after for the anniversary of the games. He showed it off like a trophy when he got it. It was new. I knew it was sharp.”
Luna could barely breathe. The image had burned itself into her memory. Her sweet, terrified boy. Her baby, no taller than the monster before him, standing with both hands on that sword, arms shaking, breath ragged. But he didn’t back down.
“He was coming after me,” Prince continued, swallowing hard. “I tried to hold the sword. He twisted my arm and it cut his side. I hurt my arm breaking the cabinet, it hurt. I dropped the sword, but I kicked it to her.”
Luna gasped softly at the memory. That glint of metal flying across the floor. She didn't even think, she just moved.
“I grabbed it,” she whispered. “And I swung it.”
Her hand trembled in his, and Prince clutched it tighter. She could barely feel the weight of it in her hand, nothing but the sheer panic.
Prince grabbed her hand with both of his.
“I just… hit him,” Luna said, staring down at the floor, seeing the blood there. “I kept hitting. I didn’t even think. I hit him until he fell — and then the sword got stuck.”
There was a silence heavy with everything they could not say. And Luna saw it all again, the moment after: running to Prince, grabbing his arm, checking if he was bleeding and if he could move it. Holding him to her chest like she could shield him from the world. Then running to Juni, who was screaming in her crib. Picking her up, comforting her.
And then...
“He called for me,” she mumbled, blinking as her voice trembled. “He was still alive. Couldn’t move. I think I hit his spine or… I don’t know. Something important.”
She felt sick at the memory — not because she regretted it, but because even as he lay bleeding, maybe dying, Cato still thought he had anything over her. That he could call for her help and she would do anything.
“I pulled the sword out,” Prince said, his voice no longer trembling — but steady, almost defiant.
Luna turned her head to look at him. Prince was sitting stiff, his chest puffed out, jaw tight. And when he met her eyes, there was something fierce in them — not just confidence. Pride.
“I pulled the sword out,” he repeated, stronger this time. “I finished it. Him.”
Her heart stuttered in her chest and she could hardly breathe as she listened.
Luna reached for him with her good hand, her fingers trembling as they brushed against his cheek. She cupped his face gently, afraid to hurt him as her thumb touched under his eyes eye where she’d wiped tears so many times when he was small.
Her sweet Prince, her dear boy.
“Oh, my love,” she whispered, her voice breaking again, not even knowing what else to say.
Because what words could possibly fit?
“It must have been terrifying,” Finnick said gently. “For both of you.”
Luna turned her body toward him, suddenly aware of his presence again. For a moment, she had forgotten they were being watched — filmed.
She nodded, as much as the neck brace allowed her to.
“It was,” she whispered.
“I’m sorry,” Finnick told them. “I’m really sorry. No one should have gone through what your family went through.”
Luna exhaled slowly, her eyes blinking hard against the heaviness behind them. Finnick didn’t rush her, he just let the silence hold, soft and respectful.
Lyme came to them with water, placing a glass gently in Luna’s hand. She drank it down in a few gulps, and Prince did the same with his. Finnick walked out for a moment, turning to speak softly with the woman behind the cameras.
She was at least a little bit put together when he sat down again, and the monitor turned to face them.
“You’ve been friends with Lyme since before… everything, haven’t you?”
Luna breathed in through her nose, steadying herself.
“Yes,” she said. “For… I think—”
She paused, doing the math, blinking at how strange it felt to say it aloud.
“I think my mum’s known her for forty-nine years,” she mumbled. “And I’ve known her since I was… seventeen, maybe eighteen.”
Finnick nodded slowly.
“And Lyme was the one who brought you here.”
Luna’s fingers curled lightly against her knee, her voice quiet as she confirmed.
“She saved us.”
There was no doubt about that. If the Capitol had found them, she would be dead. She knew that like she knew her own name.
Their eyes met — hers and Lyme’s — and for a moment, the world paused. Lyme gave her a soft, steady smile, and nodded gently.
But when Luna turned back to Finnick, she saw he was focused on the monitor, his expression sober.
“We have a few photos that Luna has allowed us to show,” he said carefully. “From the day she arrived at the safehouse and got medical attention… and from the morning she was rescued.”
Her body tensed, almost on instinct.
From the morning she was rescued?
Her fingers twitched slightly in her lap, and the tiny hint of a smile she had managed moments ago slipped away.
“These are very sensitive images,” Finnick continued. “So children and anyone who isn’t comfortable with the sight of injuries — now would be the time to turn away. I understand if either of you needs to look away as well.”
Prince didn’t. He stayed still and upright, jaw clenched, eyes unflinching. Serious. Determined.
The screen lit up.
The first image that appeared was of her back — still at the house.
Luna’s breath hitched in her throat. Her back was a mess of blood — deep red blood streaking down her skin and her nightgown Multiple shards of glass protruding out, lodged into her like grotesque thorns.
“This is from when he slammed you against the mirror, isn’t it?” Finnick asked gently.
“Yes,” Luna said, the word scraping out of her.
The slideshow continued.
And Finnick didn’t flinch.
He let the camera capture everything the doctors had documented that day. Her body — the canvas of bruises on her skin. The boot print stamped in violet and green into the curve of her lower back. The angry finger-shaped marks, her swollen face. Her neck — nearly twice its normal size now that she was looking, entirely discoloured and almost black in places. Her eye, red with broken blood vessels.
Luna stared at the images like they were someone else’s. She knew they weren’t, she remembered every moment — she confirmed every moment.
And yet...
Seeing it, outside of herself, made her want to disappear. Her skin crawled as she forced herself to look away, breathing in and out.
He didn’t ask her to name each bruise, cut and mark — maybe knowing too well she couldn’t say a word about it even if she wanted to.
When Finnick finally spoke again, once the images had faded from the screen and the silence had stretched long enough to feel reverent, his eyes were kind. Soft and full of weight.
“I cannot imagine how hard this was for you, Luna,” he said gently. “And I thank you so much for telling me your story, and for letting me share it.”
She exhaled, trembling, and gave him a small nod. That was all she could manage.
“I hope your recovery is swift,” he added. “Your body, your mind… and your family. We will do everything in our power to keep each and every one of you safe and sound. We are fighting so that the future doesn’t have any of this in it. So no one else has to live through what you did.”
“Thank you, Finnick,” she mumbled.
Finnick turned then, his focus shifting to Prince with full sincerity.
“And you too, Cato.”
Prince’s looked up, meeting Finnick’s eyes.
“You are a very brave boy,” he affirmed. “But I want to remind you of something.”
He leaned forward, and his voice, though still calm, was very firm.
“Violence might have been the answer then—” he gestured to the darkened monitor, where her photos had once been, “—but that time is over. That danger is gone. Now you're safe, and life is going to be different. Better. Sweeter.”
His voice gentled again.
“You are a brave boy. But that’s what you are. A boy. And you deserve to have a childhood, a good one. You deserve peace, laughter, softness. To let go of all this violence and leave it behind. It’s for you that we’re fighting. So you don’t have to live through this again. So no one does.”
Prince gave a quiet nod. Still stoic, still strong — but a flicker of softness passed through his eyes.
Finnick turned back to the camera. His face was calm but hard, his voice sharp and dramatic.
“This—” he said, gesturing to Luna and Prince, “—is what the system set by the Capitol does to people. It creates violence. It enables, protects, and incentivises abuse. The kind of abuse we heard about today.”
He let the words settle. Not rushed. Not dramatic. Just the truth.
“Luna didn’t tell her story to scare anyone,” he continued. “She told it to expose just how harmful this system truly is — and why it must be taken down. Not tomorrow. Not someday. Now.”
Finnick straightened, his expression steady, but burning with conviction.
“And I want to speak to the people watching — especially those in the outer districts, and even more so, to those from Districts One, Two and Four.”
He took a slow breath.
“We’ve all been lied to since we were children. We were taught that strength means domination, that victory makes you worthy; that if you want to survive, someone else has to die,” he said firmly. “They told us that our enemies were the people in the other districts. That we had to hate them, compete with them, fear them… but the truth is, that rivalry was made so we would hate each other, so we’d never think to turn around and look at who was holding the leash and who was harming us. The Capitol. Snow.”
Luna squeezed Prince’s hand, but he was completely focused on Finnick now, staring with an almost enamoured look.
“They made us enemies so we wouldn’t turn against them. But we’re done playing those games, we are done sending children to die or to come back so traumatised they take it out on innocent people,” he affirmed. “It’s why we must take them down. We will build something new, something better. And when we do, it will be for the children who never got to grow up and for the ones still learning how to breathe again.”
He gave the camera a final nod, and his voice, now soft and steady.
“This was Luna’s story, but it could have been anyone’s. And that’s exactly why it has to end. And you can join now, and stop it. Fight side by side with us, for change and peace. I'm Finnick Odair. Thank you for your time.”
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