AUTHORS NOTE
constant mentions of throwing up near the end, nothing overly descriptive tho

Eventually, Chaol went inside.

They hadn't talked much after his last admission, and while Eden knew he should go back inside and be present at the dinner organized for him, he just couldn't do it. The tour was wearing on him, at the parts of his old self that had were left. The parts that had survived.

It horrified him, but he could stomach his three kills as something he did for Cissy to survive. But traveling to their homes, bragging in front of their families that he'd won? That he was the reason the life they'd raised was gone?

That, he couldn't take.

Eden sat on the curb with his elbows on his knees, the dainty little ring held in his hands. A shine of street lights flickered through the gem briefly, as if it were taunting him. He hadn't looked at the ring — hadn't properly held it — because he didn't want to taint it.

The blood staining his hands would take away the purity of what it stood for. The beauty and hopefulness of it. He didn't want to touch it with hands that no longer deserved it.

The happy boy in love that had bought it didn't exist anymore. Even then, he couldn't bring himself to give it to anyone else. Maybe in the future, if Eve met someone he would give it to them but now...for now, it would stay with him.

Or maybe Chaol could take it...

No.

That wouldn't be fair.

If Chaol met someone again, Eden knew he wouldn't give up the ring he made Beau. But he didn't deserve a ring that was abandoned by the man who bought it.

It would be hard to get over Beau, and the loss Chaol felt. Eden knew it because the way he talked about him, the agony he couldn't hide...he'd felt all of that for Flora. Still felt it.

The scuff of a shoe on the pavement had him snapping out of his thoughts. Dressed in a tailored woollen jacket and white slacks, Finnick Odair took his hands from his pockets and sat beside him. "Cayman took her to bed," Finnick told him.

Even without saying the name, Eden knew who he meant. "That's good," he murmured. His eyes now settled on the roadway, unfocused and blank. "It's getting pretty late; I'm surprised she didn't crash earlier."

"She really fought it," Finnick chuckled. "Cayman carried her out kicking and flailing." He took a breath. "She's growing so fast."

From the last time he'd seen her a month or so ago, Eden knew the change would be significant.

Since their first encounter at the party, Eden had been paired with Finnick on several occasions. The reasoning was two handsome young men should get the screen time they deserve, but in reality it was to appease the women of the Capitol.

So they had appeared on Cesar Flicker man's show he hosted when the games weren't on. They were asked about how much their lives had changed, what they were planning for their future and so on.

It was easy to get along with Finnick. He was oddly flirtatious with everyone just as Beau had said, but it became apparent that was part of his charm. It was some of what had kept him alive to win the 65th Hunger Games.

The real Finnick Odair was the man he'd met in the party bathroom, warning him about what he drank. The quiet, gentle man who had let him know he wasn't alone in the most discreet way possible. It was fair to say he considered Finnick something close to a friend, though he wasn't sure if this new version of himself deserved that kind of respect.

Because of this, several requests were put in for the both of them. At the same time. Together.

Eden hadn't liked the idea at all. It felt wrong to add a third person into the hell he now lived. At first he resisted it, but an evening the two of them spent with Ms Tyle squashed any fight he'd been able to muster.

After that, Eden had given up any resistance. It would only cause him harm, so there was no point. Twice now, a paying customer — he wasn't sure what else to call them — had requested the two of them spend their time working on each other while she sat back and watched.

It had been horribly uncomfortable at first, and Eden hated the idea of it. He couldn't put the reason into words. The only thing that had made it a fraction better was Finnick.

Eden didn't want to think about it, didn't want to guess what age this began when he won at 14, but it was clear Finnick had been doing this for quite a long time. He knew exactly what to do to appease the woman, would quietly give Eden suggestions — make that face more apparent, do this with your arm, hold onto him like this — to help him through the night.

They would exit into the early hours of the morning and go for an early breakfast. It helped to keep up the friendly appearance.

After a few good cups of tea, it wasn't an appearance.

Him and Finnick had gone walking through a small part of the city. They talked about the things that had changed since winning the games while Eden pushed Cissy's stroller. Finnick had been right about the fresh air helping clear his head. He hadn't replaced his red pencil since.

These outings were decently spaced out so in a way, Finnick had watched her grow.

Eden smiled faintly as he turned to Finnick. "It scares me sometimes, that she's already so big. I don't want the next eleven years to go by this quickly."

Finnick glanced at him, then up at the sky. "I'll keep my fingers crossed for you, man." Then he cleared his throat. "I don't know what you said but Chaol looked a lot better when he went inside."

"We just talked about our dead partners and wishing we could've married them," Eden said drily. "Nothing serious."

"Too fancy for a dinner conversation," Finnick said in agreement. But there was a faint smile tugging at his mouth and something akin to amusement was clear in his sea green eyes.

That was another thing that helped. Seeing Finnick laugh and smile, even after all he had survived over the last five years...it helped. Eden couldn't day it was hope, it was nowhere near strong enough for that.

All he knew, was because of that typically charming smile and the kindness he expressed gave Eden the feeling that maybe his daughter would believe her father hadn't always been this empty. That with time, maybe he could pull himself together enough to be parent she should have had. He could try to be as close good as Flora would've been.

It wasn't hope, but the belief that maybe there could be more for him.

"If they ever need anything," Eden began quietly, "you tell me."

Finnick carefully reached out and squeezed his shoulder, offering him the smallest of smiles. "Creta is stubborn but I'll do my best," he promised.

Again, Eden looked up at the sky.

Gramps had always said that their mother and father were watching down on them from the sky. Eve had then picked out two stars, one for each of them, and talked to them every night. Because he had been older Eden hadn't really believed it, but there was one star that continuously peaked through the clouds and...

And he would like to think that it might be Flora.

His eyes misted over with tears at the thought, so he quickly cleared his throat. "You want a ring?" Eden asked, holding it between three fingers.

Finnick gaped at him for a moment. "At least take me to dinner first," he gasped, that same glimmer of happiness in his eyes.

Eden choked out a laugh. His nose was running from both his feelings and the cold so he sniffed a few times, then shook his head. "Shut up."

They sat there in quiet conversation until Eden was ready to go back inside.

•••••

That was the first night Eden had properly slept.

He'd noticed before that his camaraderie with Finnick helped ease his mind. It helped keep him from drowning in his own self-hatred.

The next morning he was surprisingly woken up by Valynn knocking on his door, saying breakfast was ready and he would only have an hour afterwards to prepare. He fed Cissy some apple sauce, ate his own breakfast of crepes and berries at the same time, then moved on to giving her spoonfuls of baby food.

The stage he was brought to in District 3 was beautifully lit, a series of synchronized lights dancing on the otherwise blank wall behind him. As soon as his introduction was over, those lights turned off and the somber mood took over.

He spoke to the two families. Ivy, who had given her life to save Flora's. A mother and father mourned her. And the boy, Lark, who had fought for his life in the Blood Bath but unfortunately didn't make it. A middle aged man holding a girl barely school aged stared from their platform in silence.

At dinner they had a handful of soups and hot sandwiches, all cooked using machines a member of the district had designed. A tray of grilled meats came out afterwards, along with mashed potatoes and various other vegetables in separate dishes.

It was discovered very quickly that Cissy was not fond of tomatoes.

Eden followed her and Cayman back to the train as soon as Valynn deemed it appropriate. Emery was enjoying the night, drinking with a man who seemed to be a friend of his.

It took him a while to fall asleep, and in that time he attempted a drawing Eden knew would get on his nerves. It did. The original plan had been a cliff overlooking the vast ocean of District 4, or maybe the same idea he saw in his own games. In the end, Eden crumpled up two sheets before he decided to call it a night.

The next morning, he had a hearty breakfast of eggs and bacon before he was ushered out into District 2.

This was Eden had been dreading more than any of the others. How could he look Lara's family in the eyes after he killed her?

How could he look at Darius' family after what he'd done to his body?

At the time, Eden couldn't give any less of a damn about his actions. He didn't care about the blood that had covered him.

Not the warmth of it on his cold skin.

Not the screams from his victim as Eden tore into the already gaping wound.

Not the pleas for death instead of this.

Not even the agonized expression on the boy's face as his throat was clawed at until it was torn out all together.

At the time, Eden hadn't been phased by his actions because he was able to save his daughter's life. He was avenging Rin and Beau and...and Flora. The sword that had slid through her body like a knife with butter.

Narcissa had lived, and that was all that mattered.

It had been months now, since the games ended and Eden was crowned. In those months, the memories of what he had done tormented him. In his dreams, in his thoughts, and in the things he saw. The part of him that lived before the reaping regretted what he did. The more prominent side of him, the survivor, had no qualms.

That afternoon, standing on the stage and looking at the two families, Eden briefly wished he was the one who had died. Lara's family — mother, father and older brother — didn't take their eyes off him once. Not when he spoke, not when the obligatory round of applause echoed through the square, and certainly not when a series of tears fell.

But on the side with Darius' family...

Eden nearly threw up.

There was only two people there, a young woman with dark hair and a sullen face, and the baby she held in her arms. It couldn't have been much older than Cissy was.

Later on at the dinner, Eden learned his name was Owen. He spoke to a mentor there, a bulky man whose name he couldn't remember, and gave him what he could to give to the families. Particularly for the baby. "Please don't tell them who it came from," Eden told him before he walked away. "I don't think they'll take it if they know it's from me."

He laid in bad that night, forcing the image of the baby boy out of his mind. Eden hadn't been the only one with a child depending on him. He held Cissy to his chest that night, and didn't sleep.

In District 1, things were slightly easier.

He was able to look at Volt's family; mother, father, and a girl who couldn't have been older than 16. Their expressions were blank, holding no judgment or venom.

Amethyst's family — mother, father, younger boy and older sister — didn't seem to have the same sentiment. They stayed silent and clapped when they were meant to, and there wasn't a hint of understanding.

Eden could respect that.

When he arrived at the train station back in District 10, Gramps and Eve were waiting for them along with several camera men and people he knew. They clapped and cheered when he stepped off the train, and Eden smiled back at all of them without an ounce of sincerity behind it.

Through a dinner of smoked meats dipping sauces, he let Emery and Moira carry the majority of the conversation. They had both gotten dressed up for the occasion, along with Gloria Rain, the third female Victor he hadn't personally met. He didn't remember what games she had won as he had been too young, but the woman drew him into conversation so no one else could.

Eden went home that night, Eve with both arms hooked around one of his and Gramps holding the carrier seat with Cissy. The food was incredible. He'd seen several of the dishes served in higher end shops in town, places he never could've afforded. The smells had always wafted out the open doors, and more often than not left him jealous of those who could buy them.

But now, after years of wishing to taste them, all Eden felt was nauseas.

Yes, he had earned all of this. The parties, the food, the praise. But he had earned it through death.

They turned children into murders, and then murderers into celebrities.

Eden went to the bathroom to get changed as soon as he they got inside, and as he stripped himself of expensive clothes and vibrant colours, he thought of those names. He hadn't known the names of eleven of them until he was thanking their families for their deaths.

Cissy was crying as he pulled on his pyjamas. He heard Gramps murmuring to her. The steps of his feet as he moved around with her in his arms. The clattering of dishes as Eve heated up a small bit of food left over from the babies lunch.

A faint ringing started in his ears, drowning out everything in a matter of seconds. His heart fluttered uneasily.

Eden carefully lowered himself onto the floor next to the toilet, and leaned back into the cabinet behind him. I'm okay, he told himself. I am in my home. Gramps is with me. Eve is with me. Cissy is with me. I have finished the victory tour. For the next six months, I will—

He lurched to the side and threw up in the toilet. His stomach heaved once. Twice. A third time. He vomited again.

Even after he'd emptied his stomach, his body continued to heave. Eden wasn't entirely sure exactly when but in the midst of it, he started to cry. The heavy sobs only added to the dry-heaving.

A knock echoed through the bathroom door and in that moment, he was grateful he had locked it. Arms braced against the toilet, his face red and entire body breathless, he wouldn't let anyone see him like this. "Eve is putting the baby to bed, she's going to lay with her," Gramps told him gently. "When you're ready, I've got tea in the kitchen. Come sit with me a while before bed; I've missed you."

Eden knew that while Gramps had definitely missed him, the purpose of tea wasn't because of that. It was because he'd heard Eden throwing up, heard him crying, and knew he wouldn't sleep for ages anyway.

So, he wiped his face with the back of his hands and spat a wad into the toilet, and then flushed. He took two deep breaths before answering; "okay."