Your Heart Outside Your Body

Epilogue: The Victors

Sue sat in the sterile waiting room and glared at the television, trying to turn it off with her mind. It didn't work. An interviewer- a Caesar Flickerman wannabe, was doing a "man on the street" style story, polling Capitol residents about the ending of the Hunger Games.

"Oh, these Games were amazing," a breathless Capitol resident trilled into a microphone. "The Quarter Quell really was something special."

"And tell me, what was your favorite part?" the interviewer asked. The camera cut to answer after answer.

"The volcano was amazing. I was on the edge of my seat the whole time," a woman with blue hair and pink skin said.

"You can't beat the bloodbath on opening day," an older man said, patting his rounded stomach. "That first fight at the Cornucopia is always a winner."

"The final fight. I really thought the District 1 girl had it."

"The squirrels," a little girl said. "I liked the gold squirrels. And the birds with the pink beaks. They were pretty." Her mother who was holding her hand beamed proudly.

"And the players?" the interviewer said. "Who were you rooting for?"

"Can't ever go wrong with District 1. Usually, that is." The man chuckled. "Lost a good bit on these Games."

"The brothers from District 8," a woman sighed. "Oh, they just broke my heart!"

"I got their song on a music chip," a man said. "With that District 10 kid. Gorgeous voices."

"I've played it over a hundred times!"

Sue looked at the nurse who was doing paperwork at her station. "Turn it off," she snapped.

"You know I can't do that," the nurse said, not even looking up.

Sue sat back against the chair, arms crossed, and waited. The television continued to bleat obnoxiously.

"So what did you think of our victor?" the interviewer asked.

"Could have knocked me over with a feather." The portly man was back. "District 12? When was the last time District 12 won?"

"Was it fair, though?" a woman wondered. "What he did with the axe? It seemed awfully… squirrelly to me. Kind of like cheating."

"I'm looking forward to the closing ceremonies," a man with green skin and iridescent scales said. "His interview should be really interesting."

"It should," the man's companion agreed. "The tributes from the outermost Districts are always so quaint."

Sue threw a heavy crystal ashtray at the television, shattering the screen. A shower of sparks and broken glass rained down to the floor.

"Really, Ms. Sylvester," the nurse said mildly. "That wasn't necessary."

Sue was about to respond when the nurse's intercom buzzed, leaving her with a very relieved expression. "You can go in now," she told Sue.

"About time," Sue said, striding back. She found the right room and opened the door, not even bothering with a response.

The victor of the Fiftieth Hunger Games was lying in bed. He was a good looking, tall boy with wide shoulders and dark curly hair. He had thick white bandages over his otherwise bare abdomen, but the rest of his wounds had been healed by Capitol medicine.

"Well, well, well," Sue said, taking him in. "Haymitch Abernathy. You know who I am?"

"Of course," he said disdainfully. "You're Sue Sylvester."

"You got that right. So you're the new meat. Could have done without the curls."

"I don't see what concern of yours my hair would be," Haymitch said, staring her down with dark gray eyes. "What do you want?"

"Well, Haymill, I wanted to be the first to welcome you into the club," Sue said. "Because it's a rollicking good time being a victor, what with all the feasts and the parties and the sending the kids to their deaths and all."

Haymitch's eyes narrowed. "You aren't dumb enough to think any of that is news to me, are you?"

Sue raised her eyebrows, impressed in spite of herself. "Maybe you are smarter than I give you credit for," she said. "I might just have to reevaluate my position on curly hair. No, not yet. You're still probably a moron."

"I just won the Games," Haymitch pointed out.

"So you did. Pretty smooth move there with the shield around the arena. I've gotta say, I was impressed. The Capitol isn't, though."

Haymitch shrugged. "Why not?"

"You're not supposed to figure things out like that. You made them look foolish. Which, I've got to say, is a point in your favor in my book. All I know is that all the recap footage is of anything but your last fight." It was obvious from the look on Haymitch's face that he didn't care. "You did beat my boys, that's for sure."

"Your boys," Haymitch echoed. "The brothers."

"Yeah. The brothers."

"If you're here to give me some load of guilt-" Haymitch began, but Sue cut him off.

"Guilt? Why should I give you guilt? You didn't kill my boys in the Games. I don't think you even saw them. No, my boys lost because they couldn't do what they had to do in order to survive in the Games. Some would say that's a moral victory or something. What would you say?"

"I'd say that's a load of crap," Haymitch said. "It's not like they wanted to be there. You do what you've got to do to survive."

"Exactly." Sue snapped her fingers and pointed at him, smiling. "Exactly. What do you know- I am wrong. You, Strawmitch, are a smart one. The smart one."

"So what did you come in here for?"

"I had to know."

Had to know I wasn't the only one. Had to look at your face and tell myself that someone else has done these things too and lived with it. That I'm not the only one who would do it the same if I had to, but better. Faster. More deadly. All words that Sue could have said, and all words that went unspoken. Instead, she smiled and winked at the boy lying in the bed.

"I had to know what the competition was like for next year. And now I do. See you next year at the Games, Haymaker." She made a clicking noise at him, pointed, and then left the room, a spring in her step.

He had no remorse. This wouldn't be another Wes, tormented by the ghosts of what he'd been forced to do in the arena and devastated by the loss of his first tribute. But he wasn't another Career, either, like Onyx and Shine, who gloried in their violence. He knew what he had done. He just chose to live with it. He was like her, facing, accepting, understanding. She could respect that. A mentor either got hard or got broken, seeing their tributes in the Games. Sue had always been the former, and after talking to him, she was pretty sure that Haymitch Abernathy would be, too.