Now The Songbird Is Gone (Part One)
Short Summary
Commander Snow wants nothing more than to leave District 2. But why leave alone when he could take someone with him?
The Story
Lucy Gray ran away from him.
That’s what Coriolanus is sure of.
Shen ran. He fired.
What he isn’t sure of, is whether the bullet got her.
With pain in his heart, and arm from the snakebite, he returned to the peacekeeper base. He tried to act fine when he walked through the fences, biting in his own tongue until it bled to hide the sting in his arm.
That sneaky bitch hid a snake under his mother’s scarf.
Coriolanus was quickly sent to the infirmary, where an old lady led him to a chair. The chair wasn’t comfortable, just like everything in district 12.
He hated it here and after losing not only his best friend Sejanus, even though Coriolanus hated to admit he was his best friend, but also his Lucy Gray, there was nothing.
He could no longer look forward to going to The Hob to see his girl performing in front of the crowd, a huge smile on her face. He could no longer spend time with Sejanus, complaining about how incredibly hot it was while they had to run laps in their brutal training.
Everything he loved was gone. Gone.
An old lady treated his snake bite and after he was dismissed, he quickly made his way to the sleeping barracks. He ignored Smiley, who waved at him while sitting in a peacekeeper's truck.
“Hey Gent, you okay?”
Coriolanus just raised a quick hand before he opened the door to the barracks. He needed to be alone.
And what better place to be alone than here in district 12, miles away from your home?
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After the news was delivered that Coriolanus passed his peacekeeper officer candidate test, not to mention the youngest person to ever pass it, he was sent to district 2.
Coriolanus nearly cried tears of happiness when he finally stepped on the train, which would get him out of this shithole.
Goodbye District 12.
He hoped he would never have to see it again.
He would no longer be reminded of his past with Lucy Gray. He would no longer have to see the Hanging Tree where Sejanus screamed his name.
Everything would be better in district 2, he was sure of it. Only a few steps away from going home, his beloved Capitol where he would make everyone pay for letting him rot in the districts.
Coriolanus became an officer in district 12, which also came with a private room. It wasn’t much, there was only an uncomfortable bed, a small desk and a wobbly closet (he was sure it would fall apart one day), but it was better than sleeping in the barracks with your fellow peacekeepers.
In this way, Coriolanus could write to his family without having to be concerned about his friends seeing him getting emotional over some stupid words on paper. He could actually sleep well without being disturbed by the loud snores of others. He could jerk off whenever he wanted to without being scared to get caught.
Yeah, being an officer came with a lot of advantages.
But being an officer wasn’t enough for Coriolanus, there was no such thing as ‘too much power’. Coriolanus wanted it all.
It didn’t take long for him to be promoted. He followed the orders to impress, while quickly undermining anyone who got in his way. The higher-ups noticed, of course, and Coriolanus knew how to get them in his palm.
Coriolanus was excellent at reading people, anticipating threats and making others bend without raising a fuss. He could do it all and before everyone knew it, he got officially upgraded to Commander.
Commander Snow.
He liked the sound of that.
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Coriolanus always wakes up early. Always. Every day. No expectations. Even on Sunday. There’s always something to do as the Commander of district 2.
New peacekeepers need to be encouraged and trained, letters from the Capitol need to be answered and new rules need to be enforced.
He quickly changes into his commander uniform, straightening the insignia on his chest until it sits perfectly. Even here, far from the Capitol, appearances mattered.
He made his breakfast as fast as he could. At least district 2 offered more rich and exclusive products. Instead of always the same boring breakfast, Coriolanus could finally eat whatever he desired.
He ate alone in his small office, reviewing reports from the previous day: patrols, supply shortages, minor disturbances. Nothing major. Nothing that required the attention of a Commander of District 2.
Yet.
After making his way outside, he’s quickly stopped by officer Corvin, an older man who’s lived his entire life as an officer in multiple districts. Coriolanus liked him, Corvin was one of the first people to help Coriolanus in his way to becoming Commander.
The older man rests his hand on his shoulder.
“Commander Snow, you’re up early.”
“As always.”
Coriolanus tilted his head slightly, glancing down at the neat rows of recruits marching in the training yard. He’s proud of their training system, every young boy changes into a grown man within only a few weeks of training.
Just what every district needs. Trained peacekeepers to maintain the control.
“Things have been going smoothly lately. I’ve heard about multiple rebel protests in district 11, peacekeepers are busy gaining control back.”
Corvin said. The two of them start to walk towards the main building, where Coriolanus is expected to join a meeting concerning increased production requirements, orders from the Capitol.
Grandma’am and Tigris keep him well informed about what’s going on in the Capitol. The economy is thriving, which leads to higher demands from the Capitol. Increased production is necessary to satisfy their needs. The district scum just needs to work harder.
“I’ve heard about it. What a shame that some people still think they can challenge order.”
Coriolanus read about the uprisings in district 11 in the letters that were on his desk yesterday. It’s unacceptable. Hopefully the people of district 2 won’t let it get to their heads. Not that he would allow them.
A doorman opens the door for them, the main building is not quite packed with people. Only a number of secretaries are sitting at their desks, they hurriedly jot things down on paper.
His secretary Maris strides over to him, a pile of papers in her hands.
“Commander Snow, they are already sitting in conference room 2. Here are the documents you’ve asked for.”
Maris hands them over and Coriolanus quickly waves her away. The two men stop in front of the stairs which lead to the different conference rooms.
“I’m sure you’ll keep district 2 at peace, Commander Snow.”
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By noon, the compound had grown warmer under the harsh sun. Peacekeepers moved briskly, the hum of machinery from the factories in the distance steady and constant.
Coriolanus returns to his office, preparing to review the next set of reports when Maris reappeares, her expression slightly unsettled.
“Commander Snow.”
She says, approaching quickly.
“I’ve just received word from patrol units on the outskirts of the district. There’s been suspicious activity. Rebels, possibly. They were caught-”
“How many?”
Coriolanus cuts her off, seating himself in his office chair. He’s still not used to the brutal heat of the districts, he has an awful headache and he can’t wait to shower the sweat off his body when he’s done working.
And now there are rebels?
“A small group, around six. They were spotted stealing bullets and gunpowder from our storage facilities. They were then followed, and the peacekeepers found their stash in a shed.”
Maris walks over to the wooden side table and pours a cold glass of water for him. She places it on his desk. Coriolanus takes a sip, enjoying the cold water running down his throat, before he turns to her.
“What’s the situation? Have they arrested them yet?”
“Not all of them. Two got away when the peacemakers broke into the shed. One of them is nowhere to be found, the other one is hiding in his home. We got the address.”
Coriolanus clenches his jaw, the peacekeepers shouldn’t have let two of them escape. It’s embarrassing for the entire compound, it’s embarrassing for the Commander. For him.
“So? What are they waiting for?”
It feels like his head is about to explode, he rubs his temples trying to reduce the ache.
“The peacekeepers suspect the rebel is armed. They’re not sure whether his family is home. They are waiting for your sign to break in.”
Coriolanus lets out a slow breath through his nose, his fingers still pressed against his temples. Of course they were waiting. Always waiting. As if hesitation had ever solved anything.
He leans back in his chair, though there’s nothing relaxed about the posture. His mind is already moving ahead, layout of a standard district house, possible exits, who might be inside, how quickly things could spiral if handled poorly.
“They’re afraid of casualties.”
Maris adds carefully.
“Peacekeepers afraid?”
Coriolanus scoffs quietly.
“Then they shouldn’t be wearing the uniform.”
He stands abruptly, the chair scraping softly against the floor. The headache pulses behind his eyes, but it sharpens him rather than dulls him.
“Send word.”
He says, already adjusting his cufflinks.
“They are to surround the house immediately. No one enters or exits.”
Maris nods, already writing.
“And then?”
She asks.
Coriolanus pauses for only a second.
“Then they go in.”
His tone leaves no room for interpretation.
“If the family is inside, they are to be restrained. Anyone who resists is to be treated as an accomplice.”
His gaze hardens. “I want the rebel alive if possible. I intend to know who he’s working with.”
Maris hesitates for a fraction of a second.
“Understood, Commander.”
He steps past her, already heading for the door.
“Prepare a vehicle. I need to see who brings shame to the uniform.”
Coriolanus pushes the door open, the heat hitting him immediately as he steps back into the compound. The sun is harsher now, unforgiving, but it does nothing to slow his pace.
Somewhere in District 2, a boy thought he could steal from the Capitol and walk away. Thought he could hide behind walls and family and fear.
Coriolanus almost smiles.
He would learn very quickly how wrong he was.
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The ride is short. Too short.
Coriolanus sits in silence in the back of the vehicle, one hand resting against the door, the other tapping lightly against his knee. Each second that passes without resolution only irritates him further. Sloppy work. Hesitation. It reflects poorly on all of them.
When the vehicle finally slows, he already sees them.
The house is small, like all the others in this sector. Worn wood, narrow windows, a door that looks like it could be broken in with a single kick. Peacekeepers are positioned around it, rifles raised, but none of them moving.
Waiting.
Of course they are.
Always waiting.
Coriolanus steps out before the engine has fully died, the heat wrapping around him instantly, thick and suffocating. A small crowd has already begun to gather at a distance—neighbors lingering just far enough to pretend they aren’t watching.
Pathetic.
The peacekeepers straighten immediately when they see him.
“Commander Snow, sir.”
One of them steps forward, visibly relieved. Coriolanus doesn’t acknowledge it.
“Report.”
Coriolanus orders.
“The suspect is still inside. We spoke to neighbours, his parents and sister are home as well.”
Coriolanus exhales softly, unimpressed, and walks past him toward the house
He gestures once.
“Open it.”
The peacekeepers move quickly this time. One heavy kick and the door bursts inward with a crack of wood. Shouting follows, boots thundering across the floor, the sharp clatter of movement inside.
“On the ground!”
“Don’t move!”
A struggle.
Coriolanus doesn’t rush. He steps inside only once the noise settles, once control has already been reestablished.
A boy, no, a young man is forced to his knees in the center of the room, arms wrenched behind his back, blood trickling from his lip. One of the peacekeepers presses a rifle to the back of his head.
He’s young. Too young to think he could get away with this. Dirt on his hands, defiance barely masking the fear in his eyes.
But his attention shifts.
To her.
A pretty girl, long blonde hair and pale skin stands near the far wall, frozen. Not fighting. Not screaming. Just standing still. Like a deer that hasn’t yet decided whether to run.
Her blue eyes are wide, flicking between the peacekeepers, the boy, and finally landing on him.
Interesting.
“Who is she?”
He asks, his voice calm, almost absent.
“His sister, we think.”
Of course.
Coriolanus steps further into the room, slow, deliberate. His boots echo against the floor, each step measured.
She doesn’t move. Not even when he stops in front of her.
“Look at me.”
The command is quiet.
For a moment, she hesitates. Then slowly her eyes lifts fully to his.
Up close, she’s even prettier. Defined cheekbones, full eyebrows and those pretty doe eyes that man would go to war for. Looking at him like a deer in headlights.
Obedient. Or smart enough to pretend to be.
Then, finally, he turns his attention back to the boy on his knees.
“You stole from the Capitol.”
“Go to hell.”
The boy spits.
Coriolanus sighs softly. He straightens, adjusting his sleeves as if the matter is already decided.
“Take him.”
The peacekeepers haul the boy to his feet. He struggles, just slightly. Not enough to matter.
“And her?”
One of the peacekeepers asks.
His eyes drift back to her one last time. Still standing there. Still watching him. Still not running.
A faint, almost imperceptible smile touches his lips.
“Bring her as well.”
He turns toward the door, already stepping back into the sunlight.
Something about her lingers in his mind.
And Coriolanus Snow had always been very good at recognizing when something was worth keeping an eye on.
