Chapter Text
- 54 A.D.
Burdocks POV
The morning of the Reaping arrived, the sky clear and the breeze cold for summer.
The sun had only just risen when Burdock left the house. The sky over District 12 was still painted in soft colours, pale gold spreading slowly across the horizon while streaks of fading pink lingered above the dark line of the mountains. Dew clung to the grass along the roadside, catching the early light so that every blade seemed edged in silver.
Most of the district had not fully woken yet.
The Seam was quieter than usual. A few chimney fires had begun to smoke, and here and there doors creaked open as people started their day, but the familiar sounds of work had not yet taken over. The mines would not call workers underground for a little while longer. For now there was only birdsong drifting through the cool air and the distant barking of a dog somewhere beyond the houses.
Normally Burdock liked mornings.
But not this morning.
Not on Reaping Day.
Not when children's screams could be heard across the district in fear of what the next hours could hold for them. Will it be them? Their sister? Their brother? Their friend?
Nobody talked about it directly, but it was there in every hurried movement and every strained smile. Mothers held their children a little closer. Fathers spoke more quietly. Even him, without the worry of his name being pulled. It would be his first year not fearing for his own life.
The Fifty-Fourth Hunger Games.
Another year.
The thought sat heavily in his chest.
His feet followed a familiar route without much conscious thought. He had made this walk before. Every Reaping Day, if he could. The path led toward the cemetery, the same one most of district twelve was buried in. Toward a grave that had become strangely important to people who had never known the person buried beneath it.
Burdock spotted Blair long before he reached him.
He was standing alone near the grave, hands tucked inside his coat pockets against the morning chill. Blair hadn't noticed him yet, his attention remained fixed on the stone in front of him his shoulders tensed.
As he approached, Burdock's eyes drifted toward the grave itself.
Haymitch Abernathy ( 34 A.D.- 50 A.D.)
‘Tribute in the 50th Annual Hunger Games, 2nd place’
The description was mandatory and despised by his Ma and Lenore Dove. Around his name the rock has been carved over the months after his death.
‘The best boyfriend, friend, brother, son and ally’
Aside from that inscription there were other carvings, a heart from Lenore Dove, a star from sid, a flame carved by burdock and a plum from Blair ( a reminder of how they met, which was a different story entirely).
Haymitch is buried in his family plot, with his grandparents, his twin sisters that he so adored the idea of having and his Pa.
The Everdeen family plot was right next to the Abernathys, it was the only thought that could comfort him these days. That one day, hopefully in the distant future, they would be reunited. Side by side, just as their own Pa’s are.
Burdock cleared his throat, like every year he rants to Haymitch.
“Sometimes you really piss me off you know?” Burdock can see a sad smile form on Blair's lips “you were so close to winning but you had to be a self-sacrificing idiot, didn’t you Hay?”
He pauses, obviously he expects no response. Months after his games he did, he sat at his grave once during a rainstorm and screamed his anguish and fury, he became ill as a result, the flu. He had odd hallucinations where he could see Haymitch in the corner of his room, his raw and exposed guts hanging out his body, staring at burdock sadly. It was then he knew it wasn't Haymitch he wasn't mad at but the capital for forcing Haymitch to die in such a way.
He only says he is pissed off now because it feels like banter and he knows Haymitch would laugh.
“I think it must be genetic,” Blair says, “Sid is just like you.”
At the mention of Sid Burdock's body goes cold. Sid is still reaping age. Burdock was the one to sit him down before the reaping and explain it properly to him. Sid didn't understand why he had to go anywhere on his big brother's birthday.
“Yeah he is, he’s even grown into some of your old clothes now Hay. Not to mention Lenore Dove still wears your flint striker.”
Lenore Dove never visited in the mornings. Only in the afternoons, the hours that Haymitch has always made way to devote to her when he wasn’t stopped by chores.
“We miss you a lot Hay, I miss dragging you out for morning hunts- i know you hated me for those.”
“I miss your terrible answers in science…your seat is still empty.” Blair starts to get choked up.
Burdock decides they should head back before Blair starts sobbing, he usually did when he visited.
So with their arms slung over one another they walk away from their peacefully resting brother.