Disclaimer: If I owned the Hunger Games, they would be titled: The Geeks Inherit Panem (Eventually).

A/N: I got inspiration from Deliah's Soliloquy's story "Life by the Numbers" to do a monolouge / drabble from Beetee's point of view.


Her return from the Games caused us all to rally around our newest victor - our Wiress Carpenter. I stepped off the train and onto the layers of soot on the ground, I held onto my fiance's frail form as her large eyes took in the throngs of people waiting to welcome her home. "Beetee -" She had whispered.

"It's ok, hon." I whispered. "They're happy to see you. You're home." Wiress had smiled at her senior class that greeted her from the Engineering Academy. As she met everyone's gaze, the first emotion that flashed across everyone's eyes was pride: She had indeed brought honor to our district by winning the Hunger Games. The next emotion that flashed across the faces of the crowd was admiration. The principal of her school, every single factory manager, and the patent officers in the Mayor's office knew how intelligent she was. The final emotion the crowd showed was sympathy and sorrow as tears leaked out of Wiress' eyes as she tried again and again to speak. Her small form trembled with every step. She would've collapsed in a heap and sobbed if I wasn't practically carrying her. As I picked her up to carry her home after we crossed the city square, I could already hear the murmurs: "Wiress our victor. So sweet... so intelligent...so broken." District Three embraced her as their precocious fragile heroine.

Her tears made the whole district heavy with sorrow. We had to stay in the Capitol an extra day so Caesar could interview her as a first-time mentor. I had sat by her side, my arm around her waist as she finally buried her face into my shoulder and cried for our fallen tributes. She was met with hugs and sympathetic tears when she set foot in the district. Everyone it seemed like from students she had tutored at the Engineering Academy, factory workers, patent officers, and people from the shops streamed by to bring her a token: a basket of rolls, a new pad of graph paper, a hair ribbon, or something else that would show that they felt a measure of the sorrow she was feeling and cried with her in solidarity.

Her singing would alert me to where she was working. Whether her voice drifted up from her workroom in our basement, or from a room in a factory where she was perfecting some machinery, it made everyone who heard it smile. Soon other people in the district knew her as the singing inventor. A few of my friends would begin a song and she would finish it if they saw her walking down the street or if she was sitting on a park bench looking sad. They knew her singing helped her talk and helped her connect to the world. The quality of her voice changed some between eighteen and thirty-eight, but the music coming from the unbroken parts of her brain brought joy to everyone who heard.

Her inventions brought her adoration. I had been inventing for eight years beforehand and received awards, but something about Wiress moved the crowd when she would accept an award for an invention in front of the Justice Center. The District Dispatch would write about her inventions with a unique perspective. The beautiful acts of creativity continued to come from a mind the Capitol tried to crush year after year. Her inventions proved that beautiful things will still arise out of the soot covered district.

Her death was the last heinous act of the Capitol that our people would tolerate. Everyone from her former classmates, factory workers who worked with her inventions, her friends, acquaintances, and countless people that saw us as we went about our business in the district saw her death broadcasted from the Clock Arena in the Quarter Quell. In one voice they had began chanting. "Wiress Tesla! Wiress Tesla!" They had used improvised weapons including weapons incorporating electricity to subdue the Peacekeepers. The fighting between citizens and Peacekeeprs had raged for three days until the rebel army units from District Thirteen had intervened officially taking the district.

Her contribution to the revolution was often unwittingly overshadowed by contributions of The Mockingjay. However, her story was passed even years after the revolution had ended. Wiress was the broken victor, the singing inventor, and one of the most accomplished citizens in the district and in Panem. If Katniss was Panem's Mockingjay during the rebellion, my beautiful Wiress was the spark of District Three.