A Simple Request

A/N Hello! I'm completely new to the Hunger Games fandom. I just finished reading Mockingjay. I'm in love with the Hunger Games. Wiress is my favorite character, and I have crush on Beetee (eeyup!), and Wiress/Beetee is my favorite ship. If I could change anything about HG, it would be Wiress's death. I really wish she hadn't died... :( I wrote this right after finishing Catching Fire, which is my favorite of all three books. I was just upset that Wiress was gone. Honestly, I'm not too proud of it. I don't think it came out to well at all. Wiress and Beetee are too flat and emotionless, and the story is too... er... "predictable", I guess (not sure what word to use).

This hasn't been edited by anyone but myself. I might try to get an editor and reupload it sometime. Also, I'm not completely sure this fits into the book perfectly (like, I'm not sure all the facts are right). But for now, please just enjoy the fic and NO FLAMES (please!)! :)

Beetee's POV
The Quarter Quell. President Snow's newest way of spicing things up. Sending us back. It's unbelievable. I never, in a thousand years, expected to be back in the Capitol. At least, not as a tribute. Not for a second year. Everything so far is going just like it had when I had been chosen the first time. However, that feels like an eternity ago now. And now I know some of these people. I remember Mags and Finnick. I remember the brother and sister who had both managed to survive the Games consecutively. I remember the poor woman with three children to take care of back in her district. I wonder if they will survive without her. I wonder how many of us will not be leaving the arena alive. I quickly shove this idea out of my mind, unable to think about it. And here I am. As a part of the resistance against the Capitol, I don't have to worry about nearly half of the tributes trying to kill me. They will be on my side. But not all of them. Some of them will stop at nothing to see my body being carried up into those awful hovercrafts, dead.

I'm currently lying in bed, in the place we're staying in the Capitol. It's around one in the morning, but I cannot sleep. Tomorrow we will all be interviewed by that annoying host with the crazy, colorful hair and makeup. And honestly, I'm not looking forward to it at all. I know I should be getting some sleep. The more sleep I have now, the easier it will be to stay awake and alert for the interview tomorrow. However, sleep simply will not come. Maybe it's because I'm nervous. Or worried. Or scared. Or just… agitated. Agitated with the Capitol, for holding these stupid games. Agitated with the districts, for not fighting back. Agitated with myself, for winning the games in the first place and getting myself stuck here. Whatever the reason is, I cannot get to sleep.

I roll over and begin to hum a tune to myself. A random melody I heard a mockingjay sing once. Or maybe it had been Wiress. She sings a lot. Or at least, she used to. I lie here in the darkness like this for a long time. I have no clue how long it is, exactly. Time means absolutely nothing to me at the moment. I run out of notes to sing of my little song, and soon the darkness seems to envelope me, spitting out all of my most dangerous emotions. Guilt, fear, sadness, anger. I punch the pillow that my head had been resting on only moments before. I need to get the anger out somehow. I punch it again. This pillow is my enemy. That's what anger does. It turns even the simplest, most innocent things into enemies. That's what keeps the Games alive in some ways.

I'm just turning to attack my goose feathered adversary again when there is a soft knock at my door. I sit up immediately, confused. Who in the world could be at my door in the middle of the night? "Who's there?" I ask, a bit too loud. I wonder in the back of my mind if it's a peacekeeper. I wonder if I have done something wrong without realizing it. Maybe punching the Capitol's pillows is now against the law? Or maybe – I get sick to my stomach at just the thought – they've discovered our plan to rebel against the Capitol. Maybe they've come to torture me. Or hijack me. Or turn my into an avox. I wait, rather anxiously now, for a reply, but for a long time nothing comes. "Who's there?" I ask again, even louder, wondering if I have hallucinated the whole thing. Maybe the stress of the Quell is getting to my head...

After another moment of silence, a very quiet, wonderfully familiar voice mutters, "Me." The door opens slowly. In the doorway stands Wiress, the female whose name was called during the reaping and a close friend of mine, with tears in her eyes. I smile when I see her. The smile is a mix of relief (she's not a peacekeeper after all!) and happiness. I'm glad to see a friendly face, even if it is a bit blurry due to my current lack of glasses. She blinks, as if expecting me to say something. For a long time I just stare into her eyes. After a moment of this, I manage to say:

"Come in, Wiress."

The woman nods and walks towards me. Before I can say or do anything, she has fallen into my arms, sobbing. This is definitely a surprise. While Wiress has never been the most stable person, I always looked at her as an emotionally strong human being. Seeing her sob freely like this is a totally new visual. And, although the situation is very awkward, I try my best to be comforting. I stroke her dark hair and pat her on the back, trying desperately to think of something to say but having the words refuse to form in my mouth. Finally, however, she manages to stifle her sobs a bit and look up at me. I gave her an inquiring look. She swallows. "I… I had a…" she trails off. She does that a lot. Luckily, I'm pretty good by now at being able to finish her sentences.

"…A nightmare?" I finish. Wiress nods. This was something else she does a lot; have nightmares. I do too, but not as often. The Games have had a huge aftereffect on her. Well, they have an aftereffect on all of us victors. I absentmindedly play with a strand of her black hair. "What was this one about?" I ask her gently. For some people, telling your bad dreams after you have them can be of some comfort. Wiress is one of these people. I learned this a long time ago. There have been times when she would leave her house in the Victor's Village and sneak into mine. She would tell me the same thing as she was now: she had had a nightmare. She closes her eyes, as if she is reimagining every gory, awful detail, before staring up at me with tears in her eyes once more.

"The… the other tributes." she whimpers out. She hardly ever speaks in long sentences, if she finishes her sentences at all. I assume this was from something that had happened during her year in the Games. It was quite awhile ago, and I was much younger when they took place, and honestly don't remember what types of injuries she had managed to acquire. She may very well have had an awful blow to the head. It is more likely than not. She continues, her voice softer than before. "They were all… all dying. Awful deaths. Awful." She pauses, and her eyelashes flutter for a moment. "I killed them." The words barely even escape her lips before more tears begin pouring from her eyes and she falls into my arms once more.

"Wiress, please. Calm down. It'll be okay." I tell her gently, trying to stay patient. I know how stressed out she probably is. Just the idea of returning to the arena must be torture for her. And she – like me – is entering with a purpose. We need to get Katniss Everdeen out of there. She shakes her head. I feel tears stain the front of my pajamas. She moves closer against me. I wrap my arms around her, trying my best to be comforting.

"No, Beetee, it won't be." she whimpers. "D- Don't you see?" I stare at her, confused. No, I don't see. I don't see what has her so upset. I mean, yes, I'm not happy to be reentering the arena, but I don't see why this has caused such a sudden display of emotions like this. She looks immensely annoyed by my ignorance. "Yes, we're… in the resistance. But.. there can still only be…" Her attention is suddenly turned to the curtains covering my window for no apparent reason. She completely forgets what she was saying in the first place. Not that this is anything new. I try to figure out what the rest of her sentence may have been, when suddenly I'm able to put two and two together and, surprisingly, get four.

"…One victor." I end her sentence with a grim tone. Her attention snaps back to me, and she nods furiously, relieved to see I understand. However, I still haven't figured out what all the fuss is about. Why is this bothering her so much? If all goes according to plan, we'll be out of there before the Games are over anyway. And it's not like she does not already know the rules of the Games. Obviously, my expression asks all of my questions for me, for she answers all of them in a tone even grimmer than mine.

"Not all of us can…" she pauses, and I wonder if I'm going to have to finish her sentence for her again. Luckily, she snaps back to reality before I have to. "...live. Only one victor." I nod in an "I already know this" type of way. I wonder if she's simply gotten herself into a state of hysteria due to her nightmares and doesn't even realize what she's saying. She continues anyway, despite the fact that I'm now slightly doubting her sanity. "And it's not going to be…" Another long pause. "…One of us." She stares at me for a moment. "Even with the plan…" Yet another pause. The pace she is taking is agonizingly slow. "…The gamemakers will want it to be bloody. Deadly."

I take a moment to fully comprehend what she has just told me. I've known her for so long, I'm pretty good at interpreting her. Wiress thinks we have a good chance of getting killed in the Quell. Is it possible? I know perfectly well that neither of us are exactly what we used to be. But… Haymitch has everything so well planned. Nobody in our group will lose their life, right? I stare deep into her eyes, and I notice a flicker of certainty that I've never seen in her before. She nods slowly. I open my mouth to speak, but she interrupts.

"You." She speaks the word very clearly, then stares at me. I blink, not sure what she means. "You have to survive." she adds. And now I gasp, finally understanding. She does not care if she survives. But she cares if I do. Even if I have to kill her or leave her behind to do so. She wants me to stay alive no matter what. After I've fully grasped this, I swallow and manage to find something to say. However, I'm not sure how well it will come across to her, who looks like she has already made up her mind.

"No, Wiress, I can't do that. I can't kill you. I'd rather have both of us die than having to face that sort of choice. I-" She cuts me off.

"Please, Beetee." she whimpers. "You need to…" she trails off once more. However, unlike most times, she does not simply forget what she was saying. She winces, struggling not to lose her train of thought. Desperately trying to remain focused long enough to tell me what she believes I need to hear. She chews on her lip a bit, thinking hard. I've never seen her concentrate like this before. Finally, she remembers what she had been telling me. "…Stay alive." I stare at her. She sits up so that she's the same height as me. She stares deep into my eyes, and I feel... I don't know, exactly. But for some reason, I lean back a bit, as if wanting to escape the grip her eyes have on me. The she adds quietly, never losing eye contact, "For me."

This shocks me. I had not expected her to say something like this, and I'm not exactly sure what she even means. I try, for some reason, to find a way around her proposal. "Haymitch has everything planned out, Wiress. And he's working with Plutarch, the head of the Games. He won't let anything happen." I give a desperate attempt at trying to stop the inevitable. She shakes her head slowly.

"The audience will want…" She stops midsentence, and this time does not regain her concentration. I finish the sentence for her:

"…Blood." She nods. I knew it before, but for some reason hearing her agree with me makes everything worse. Up until tonight I had simply thrown away the idea of one of us – or both of us – not returning, simply because it is too unbearable. Wiress blinks slowly, then collapses in my arms again. This time, however, there are no tears. She does, however, sniff a bit ever-so-often. I play with her hair again, trying not to concentrate on her directly, unable to imagine having to kill her or see her dead. We remain like this for a long time. Neither of us know what to say. I hope that she has managed to lose her train of thought again, and is thinking about something totally unrelated to the matter at hand, for her sake. However, I know perfectly well that this is not the case.

"You have to survive. Help Katniss. Save Panem. I can die. It's okay. Just… live. Please." Her words are slightly muffled against my chest, and her sentences are short, like usual. I nod and she looks up at me, waiting for me to agree. I refuse to look at her. Instead, I look at every other inch of the room. I stare at the closet, which is slightly opened so that you can see a pair of pants; the bathroom, which is closed, but the light is still obviously on inside; the curtains, which had attracted Wiress's attention a moment ago, still covering the window. None of this makes me feel any better. Finally, I turn back to face the woman.

I nod slowly. "Okay." I finally manage, my voice rather hoarse. "I'll try. I'll fight my hardest. Survive, or die trying." I force a smile. I don't know if my words are completely true or not, but they seem to make her feel better. She nods slowly. Then, without warning or hesitation, she gives me a kiss on the cheek. This shocks me, and I feel my face turn bright red. This is not just one of those careless kisses that Capitol citizens seem to give everyone they meet. It actually means something. However, I'm not sure what. Before I can react in any way besides this, however, she gets up and leaves. She is gone from view before I can say "mockingjay".

After the shock of all of this is over and my face has returned to its natural color, I can't help but smile. "Good night, Nuts." I say, even though she is already long gone. "Sweet dreams." With a smile (it's small, but it's still there) on my face I lay down and, in almost seconds, have fallen asleep peacefully.

-End