My prep team can hardly contain their tears.

Yesterday when they once again ridded me of

my body hair, they were all excitement for today. After all, they had been invited to the
event of the century. Everyone they know is green with jealousy and they enjoy that fact
very much. But now as the day has come, they cry out of joy and pure silliness. I try not to
listen to them.
Today I am marrying Peeta Mellark.
I know that my situation could be worse. Peeta will be a good husband to me. He loves me
genuinely and we are friends. Sometimes I think I do love him. But in what way, or how
much, not even I know.
Then what makes this such a dreaded day for me? It's not my choice. The only other option
I had would kill everyone I cared about, including Peeta. And the fact that this is breaking
Gale's heart isn't making it any easier. My best friend must be so hurt right now, knowing in
an hour I'll be wed to another man. Whatever feelings I might have had for Gale I can't
explore any more. It will hurt me too much.
So how can I possibly go into this with a smile like everyone is expecting? I can't.
Add that to the fact that the Capitol will force us to have children, and this is the beginning
of a nightmarish life for me. My children will be sure to have their names drawn in a reaping
to punish me. And I will have to mentor them as I had to mentor Mabel ten months ago.
She made it far. But she wasn't any match for the Careers. They got her. And I watched her
head get smashed in.
I shouldn't be dwelling about such things on my wedding day. But today won't make my
future any better. Whether or not I married Peeta, I will always have to mentor the girl
tribute from District 12, unless another wins. I will have to watch so many die. At least
Peeta will understand. He will have to do the same with the boy tribute. Somehow, knowing
I won't be alone helps a little. I can cope better.
But sometimes I wonder if it would be best if I had died in that arena two years ago.
When my face is painted and my hair styled just right, Cinna finally comes in. I've been
waiting all day to see him. He's the one bright spot in this awful trip.
"Thank you," Cinna says to the prep team and they leave. He smiles at me. "Let's have a
look at you."
I hold my head up for him. He puts his fingers under my chin and observes my make-up.
Then he walks behind me and adjusts my hair a little.
"There," he says. "Let's get you dressed now."
I remove my robe as Cinna unzips the bag that has been hanging in my room this whole
visit, taunting me. I hadn't been able to open it to see which dress I am to wear. Cinna
holds it out to me and I step into it. Cinna laces me up in the back. The dress is beautiful, of
course. Its lined in pearls, real pearls, and so lush I don't know how it could possibly be
real. Cinna then puts on my jewelry, all of them made of pearls to match my dress. Then he
fixes the veil onto my hair. For the ceremony, I will be wearing a long, trailing veil that
some Capitol children will be holding as I walk down to Peeta. But Cinna has assured me
that for the reception a much more practical veil will be traded out.
Finally, I step into my shoes. Cinna has again considered me and I'm in heels that are only
two inches high.
Now all we have to do is wait for them to call me. I get a horrible, sick feeling in my
stomach.
"I feel like I'm in the Launch Room again," I whisper.
Cinna must know my real feelings, although I've never been able to tell him directly. He just
seems to know my mood anyway. He smoothes a part of my hair back.
"Remember, head high," Cinna tells me, smiling sadly. In that smile, I see everything he
can't say out loud because my bridal chambers are sure to be full of bugs. His gentle eyes
are sayingI'm sorry.
Just then Prim comes bursting through the door, alongside Madge. Because Peeta has two
brothers as groomsmen, we needed someone else to come along as an extra bridesmaid for
me along with Prim. I suggested Madge and it was agreed. After all, Madge was the Mayor's
daughter. No reason for her to rebel.
My mother is the only other person I brought. She was all the Capitol allowed to come.
Gale, even if he wanted to go, was refused. The Capitol wouldn't want him ruining
everything by begging me to leave Peeta and be with him as we stood at the altar. Peeta
had also only brought his parents and two brothers.
Everyone else there would be from the Capitol or they were the other victors the Capitol
would use any excuse to drag out here. Particularly Finnick Odair. Other victors, like the
morphlings, were left behind. I honestly had no choice over the matter although it was my
wedding. I didn't have control over any of it. The dresses, the colors, the location, the food,
the man. All was decided by the Capitol for me.
"There are so many people there!" Prim gasped excitedly, flushing in anticipation. "They've
all come for you Katniss!"
"Even President Snow is here," Madge says.
My stomach becomes ice. President Snow. The reason why this all is happening. I don't
know why, but I didn't expect him to be here. He must just be making sure I don't ruin
anything. That having his snake eyes on me the whole time will guarantee I go through with
this.
"My," I give a breathy, nervous laugh. "All of this for me."
"Isn't it just like you dreamed?" Prim asks, spinning around in the sky blue dress Cinna
designed for her and Madge.
I struggle to smile. "More."
I see Madge give me a concerned look. I'm not convincing enough. I have to act even more
over-the-top today, but all I want to do is crumble in despair. I try to focus, to think of all of
the faces that matter to me. I have to do this, for them.
There's a knock on the door. Prim answers it. Haymitch is standing there in a tux. He's
shaved, clean, and sober. I can't remember the last time he was all three of those.
"They're ready to start," Haymitch says, his voice still gruff.
I can't move. I'm frozen. It takes Cinna pulling up on my elbow and leading me to Haymitch
to get me where I need to be. Cinna pulls the veil in front of my face, gives me a kiss on the
cheek, and leaves to take his seat. Haymitch keeps his arm around me and takes me where
we are lining up for the march. Someone, I think an Avox, hands me the bouquet I am to
hold. I blink, trying to find my courage now. But I've lost it.
"Nothing's changed sweetheart," Haymitch tells me as the music starts up.
"What?" I ask, confused.
"This is a big act like the rest of it," Haymitch replies. "Don't be so nervous or else everyone
will know you're acting."
Two chubby-faced children, the flower girl and the ring bearer, start marching out. I see a
glimpse of a crowd, an aisle, and then the doors close again.
"This will change everything Haymitch," I tell him. "After this, my life is gone."
"Your life was gone when you volunteered for your sister," Haymitch corrects me. He shakes
his head. "You should be grateful you don't have to go through this alone. And you should
be damned happy that it's Peeta you're with."
The doors open and Madge marches out beside one of Peeta's brothers. The door shuts
again.
I flush. "What do you know about it?"
"I know plenty," Haymitch snaps. "Just wait. You'll see."
"You know they're going to make us have children," I hiss. "You've never gone through that
Haymitch. You've never had to mentor your own child!"
Prim and Peeta's other brother are now walking. Haymitch and I will be next.
"Then why am I about to give you away?" Haymitch asks me.
I open my mouth, too shocked to say anything. I struggle to understand, but it comes to
me. He thinks of Peeta and I as his own children. He thinks he knows what it's like. I would
be furious at him for trying to compare two children he had just met to someone you
created, gave birth to, and raised, but I'm too startled by his declaration.
And then the doors open once again, the music at a peak of swelling. Everyone stands for
me.
I have a smile plastered on my face as I walk down the aisle, guided by Haymitch. Among
the crazy dyes and costumes, I can easily spot my mother and Peeta's parents in the front
row. Mrs. Mellark frowns, but I think that look is permanent. The baker, though, smiles
genuinely and warmly. My mother has tears in her eyes and I can't tell whether or not she's
pleased for me.
And then my eyes fall on him.
Amongst the dread and the fear, finding his blue eyes there's suddenly a small, warm point
in my chest. And now, my smile doesn't seem fake. He's here for me, just like he always
will be. Maybe something Haymitch said is true. I won't have to be alone. And that is
comforting.
When we reach the end, Haymitch gives me a kiss on the forehead and claps Peeta on the
shoulder. Then he places my hand in Peeta's. Just like always, Peeta's grip is warm and
secure. It keeps me grounded and steady.
Prim takes the bouquet from my hands. I'd completely forgotten about them. I'm in a daze
right now. I can't listen to the words being said. I'm sure they're very beautiful, talking
about love and rising through challenges together. I only wish it weren't being said in that
ridiculous Capitol accent.
This event is being broadcasted all through Panem and is considered mandatory viewing.
President Snow must want everyone to know the berries were just an occurrence that
happened because of two crazy teens in love. I'm sure that's the point of the marriage
maker's speech.
And then, Peeta's turned to me, holding both of his hands in mine. His eyes are so intent on
mine I feel something in me again, deep in my heart. Only, I don't know what it is or what
to do with it.
Then, in a clear but emotional voice, Peeta declares, "I do."
The child they had hired for our wedding comes up solemnly with the ring. Peeta slides it
onto my finger. We never did such things back home. But this wasn't a District Twelve
wedding. This was a Capitol wedding and we were doing things the Capitol way.
I pay closer attention because I know that my turn is coming up soon. As the marriage
maker says the words, I find tears sliding down my cheeks. I don't know why. If I'm angry
or frightened or happy. I'm all of those things right now. It's terribly confusing. But
hopefully when the audience sees me, they'll think it's because of love.
My time comes. I swallow and say as resolutely as I can, "I do."
And I fit the ring onto his finger. There. We're married.
"Then Peeta Mellark, you may kiss your bride!" The marriage maker cries.
I smile at Peeta and he lifts the veil from my face. But his face is serious. He wraps his arms
around my waist and kisses me, and the audience is clapping and whooping in response.
This one is deep, and I'm confused by the way his lips push against mine. It's almost as if
he's saying good-bye. The thought makes me cling to him more.
After a few minutes, we've done a thorough job of that, so we pull away and they announce
us as a couple for the first timeMr. and Mrs. Peeta Mellark.
We walk back down the aisle, through the open doors and onto the porch where the regular
citizens of the Capitol are lined up. Rails and officials are barring their way from getting to
us, but we smile and wave at them just like we did on the chariot. They call out our names
and call for kisses. We indulge them.
Eventually the photographer makes us stop for pictures. We do individuals and couples,
ones with our families and our bridal party and with our teams. My cheeks hurt from smiling
so much. But through the whole thing I keep a hold on Peeta whenever I can, and not just
for the act. He's so much better at this public stuff than I am. I feel better with him by me.
Halfway through the pictures Cinna replaces my veil. The one for the reception only goes
down to my back rather than being twice the length of my body.
At twilight, the car pulls up to take Peeta and me to our party. President Snow insisted we
use his house for the reception. I hated the thought, but Effie couldn't turn it down and
neither could I. Unless I wanted another warning.
Peeta and I have to meet countless people, shake hands. We sit through a grand meal and
have everyone stare at us for our first dance. Then we have to shove cake in each other's
mouths. I don't quite get the point of that tradition. Through it all, Peeta is as constant,
cheerful, and personable as ever. But of course he is. Today must be a dream for him. The
two of us finally married. And thenand then
Tonight.
I feel sick. I've tried not to think about it, but with the clock ticking away the hours, it's on
my mind more. I know it's what the Capitol expects. Peeta must expect it as well, since we
are married and it's just what we're supposed to do. Act or not, he's now my husband and
we're to have children.
He'll be kind about it, I'm sure. I couldn't imagine Peeta meaning to make me
uncomfortable or humiliate me. He may be just as nervous himself. But this still won't be
easy. Peeta's holding me close as we dance and I wonder if he's thinking about it, too. If
he's worried at all.
Then someone taps on Peeta's shoulder. He turns and I see President Snow standing there.
I'm shocked. He never went to any other of the Capitol parties and I hadn't seen him
tonight at all.
"Peeta, may I have a dance with your wife?" President Snow asked.
Peeta nods his head because, really, what else can he do? He steps away and gives me a
concerned look. But he stays close by so all I have to do is search for his eyes and he'll
rescue me.
"Enjoying your party?" President Snow asks.
"Yes," I manage to say. "Thank you for allowing us the use your home."
"You're welcome, of course," President Snow replies. "What a joyful ride it's been for the
Capitol to watch your relationship with Peeta grow. Just like that old rhyme. First comes
love, then comes marriage," He pauses. "I seem to have forgotten the other part."
"Then comes a baby in a baby carriage," I finish in a whisper.
His puffy lips stretch into a smile. "Ah, yes. How the people are looking forward to that in
particular."
"Well, we've just married," I say. "They can't expect that too soon."
"No, but in two months the Games will occur again," President Snow says. "You and Peeta
will come to mentor. What a wonderful surprise it would be for the people to hear a new
Mellark will be arriving."
I know what he's saying. When I come to the Capitol again, I am to be pregnant. My heart
sinks. Right away then. The Capitol wants to torture me as soon as they can. I will not have
a few years of peace. I am to immediately worry about the life of another as soon as
possible. I wonder if all of my children will be reaped or just one will be so unfortunate. Or if
they will go in the minute they're twelve to ensure their death or if the Capitol will wait until
their older, give the audience a good show, only to kill them.
The song ends and President Snow gives me a kiss on the cheek.
"Congratulations Katniss," he whispers in my ear.
A shiver runs down my spine as he leaves. I stand on the floor as another song comes on. I
feel empty, broken. Alone. Then Peeta is by my side, his hands gripping my upper arms.
"Katniss?" He asks. "Are you all right?"
I fling myself into his arms, burying my face in his chest. I close my eyes and keep my face
blank, so hopefully everyone thinks I'm just madly in love. When on the inside, I'm aching
and dying. But Peeta holds me tightly, and my arms are around him just as strong. And I
feel it again. That safety that at least I have Peeta. That I won't be alone. I'll always have
him with me.
Eventually I let go and put on my smiling face again for the rest of the evening.
Then Cinna and Portia come to get us. Its thirty minutes before midnight. We're to go with
them and dress in our run-away outfits. Cinna takes me in one room as Portia leads Peeta
into another. If Cinna weren't there with me, I'd be at a loss of what to do.
Cinna helps me out of my wedding gown, jewelry, and veil. Even my hair, piled high with
curls, comes down so that they frame my face. Cinna produces a midnight blue dress that
falls to my knees. The straps fall around my arms so my collarbone and shoulders are open.
"It's beautiful," I tell Cinna. "Like always."
He gives me another hug. "Does it still feel like the Launch Room?"
"Not as much anymore," I reply.
When I leave the room, Peeta's already waiting for me. He tries to smile, but it falters. I
take his hand and we're at the top of the staircase. Everyone is lined up, already waiting for
us. We come down and go through the crowds of people and run outside to our
transportation. I nearly stop as I see the chariot. It reminds me too much of the Games.
Peeta and I give them one last kiss before we go in the chariot to be wheeled down the
street where people are waiting for a glimpse of us. Just like that first ride, my hand is
securely around Peeta's. We kiss each other for the crowd, wave at them and smile. But as
we go farther down, my heart sinks lower and lower. It's almost here.
The chariot stops at a hotel we're ushered into. The workers there are all prepared for us.
We have the highest floor, the very best room, the worker tells us with a wink. Then one of
the workers gives me two stem glasses and Peeta a bottle of champagne.
"Courtesy of President Snow himself," the worker smiles.
Champagne. The best room. His warning. It's clear what President Snow is trying to get us
to do. I find myself needing to pace my breathing more so I don't hyperventilate.
We ride up the elevator alone, not talking or touching. I try to prepare myself mentally for
tonight. But I'm having trouble.
The room we get certainly is the best. The view out the windows is amazing and the bed is
huge, with fifty pillows and the softest looking sheets I've ever seen. The lights are already
low, and there's soft music playing.
I want to throw up.
Peeta sets down the champagne and I put the glasses next to it. Neither of us touch the
booze though. Peeta takes a step closer and I need to catch my breath. I'm so nervous, I
feel sick.
"Katniss," Peeta begins.
Before he can say anything else, I say, "I want to go freshen up in the bathroom first,
please."
Peeta looks up, startled, but nods his head.
I practically run to the open door and slam it shut. I take a shower and scrub off my make-
up so I can feel more like myself. Katniss Everdeen. But all I feel right now is fear of the
upcoming night. I'm not ready for this.
The closet is in the bathroom as well. With my robe wrapped around me I open it to see the
selection. The hotel we'd been staying at before we were married had supplied us with our
wardrobe. But this one is empty. No, there's one thing in it.
I hold up the skimpy black lace number and feel the blood drain from my face. It terrifies
me. I can't do this.
I sit on the ground, defeated. Volunteer to go into The Hunger Games? Didn't have to think
about it. Blow up the Career's supplies? Sure, count me in. Face mutts? No problem.
Challenge the Peacekeepers to Gale's whipping? Easy. Give myself to Peeta, who loves me
more than anything? My courage was gone.
I don't let people in. That's just it. I don't love easily. And thisthis was as deep as it got.
This was sharing everything with each other. I'd have to let my barriers down. I would have
to let Peeta in. And that is what frightened me the most.
There's a knock on the bathroom door. Peeta.
"Katniss?" Peeta calls. "Can I come in? You've been in there a while."
Have I? I hadn't noticed.
"Come in," I manage to call out.
Peeta sees me there on the floor, so defeated. I feel embarrassed for him. I must be
breaking his heart even more now. Or at least hurting his pride.
"What do you have in your hand?" He asks.
I hold up the humiliating scrap of fabric for him to see. He looks shocked.
"I'm sorry Peeta," I say, shaking my head. "I justI can't do it. I'm not ready yet."
Tears flood my eyes to my shame. After all, if his parents had put up with each other to
have three boys, what must he think of my opinion of him? But to my surprise, he falls to
his knees and envelopes me in his arms. I begin to sob.
"Katniss," he whispers. "Katniss, I don't expect that from you. I didn't think that
tonightoh, Katniss."
What did mean he didn't expect that from me? Wasn't that a given once you were married?
But I feel him hold me, those same arms that protected me, and I believe him. Of course he
didn't think tonight would be any different from other nights we'd spent together. Because
he's too good for me.
"I did want to talk to you though," Peeta says when I've calmed down a few minutes later.
I pull away to look at his face. "What is it?"
His eyebrows pull together and I can see he's trying to not look hurt. I'm curious now what
could be giving him that face.
"I know you don't want this Katniss," he says to me, but looking down. "That's why I had
Haymitch get me some papers."
"Papers?" I ask.
He bites his lip and pulls me up. We go back into the main room and he shows me a thick
stack of papers. I skim it, my eyebrows burying farther and farther down the more I read.
I'm thoroughly confused.
"Annulment of marriage?" I ask. "You don't want to be married anymore? Butwe have to.
The Capitol-"
"Look, we put on their show," Peeta says angrily. "We got married. Well, they never said we
had to stay married."
"They'll notice if in two months we aren't together anymore when the Games come around."
"We'll act, just like we always have," Peeta shrugs.
"I'm going to have to get pregnant anyway Peeta," I remind him. "I think we should be
married for that."
"I'm not the only person who could get you pregnant, Katniss," he whispers painfully.
Gale. He's trying to give me Gale. I feel my heart choke on this.
"What exactly is your crazy plan, Peeta?" I ask.
"This," he begins. "You sign the papers. I have already, so we just need your signature. We
aren't married anymore and we go on living our lives. You marry Gale. You have his
children. Whenever the cameras come around, we pretend otherwise. We act married, show
them your beautiful children, and mentor for District Twelve."
"People will notice if Gale's living with me and you're away," I say.
Peeta shrugs. "Who are we fooling back in District Twelve anyway? Everyone knows the
whole thing was a stage. But they aren't angry enough to rebel."
I look at the papers.
"Sign them, Katniss," Peeta whispers, handing me a pen. "It's okay. It'll make you happy."
Will it? Will this make me happy? I'll still have to marry. I'll still have to have children. I'll
still have to be a mentor every year. I will still have to watch my children die. The only
difference will be that it'll be with Gale. And I'll have to watch Peeta's blue eyes fill with
longing every time we come across each other. I'll feel guilty whenever I have to kiss him
for the public, remembering my family and knowing that it's hurting Peeta.
My eyes find the fireplace. I march over to it and flick on the switch that starts the flames.
They shoot up right away. And I throw those papers in the fire.
"Katniss!" Peeta exclaims by my side. "What are you doing?"
"That wouldn't make me happy," I tell him. "I can't do that. I can't keep on pretending my
life is one way when its really another. I couldn't do that to you or to Gale."
"But you'll be pretending anyway," Peeta says. "You'll still have to pretend you're in love
with me once a year. Why not be happy with Gale the rest of the year?"
"And why would I be more happy with Gale than with you?"
"Because you love him," Peeta whispers.
I nod my head. "That's true. I do love Gale. But Peeta" I struggle for what I mean. And
then, I say it as I realize it. "Haven't you ever thought that I love you, too?"
Peeta's startled and he searches my eyes. He blinks and stays silent. Peeta looks
distrusting. I can't say I blame him. I haven't exactly been great at being truthful about
that.
"Katniss, you don't have to say that if you don't mean it," Peeta says finally in a strained
voice.
"I do," I say. "I love you."
"But you didn't want to get married."
I shrug my shoulders. "No. But that doesn't make my feelings for you any less real."
Peeta takes astep toward me, then another. I look up into his blue eyes that are trying to
sort this all out still. I'm still trying to sort it out, to be honest. But once Peeta gave his
opportunity for me to escape, I couldn't. I couldn't let go of the boy with the bread.
Peeta raises his hand slowly, as if testing his boundaries. Then he lets his hand sweep down
the side of my face. And I begin to feel something. That thing I felt in the cave when he
kissed me. I want him to kiss me now.
He does. He starts off gently, but I make it urgent. I don't want him to have any doubts
about us. Yes, in me there was something that worried about Gale and that wanted him.
But I couldn't have them both, and there's something in me that feels a need for Peeta. His
steadiness, his understanding. It is what I need with the future ahead of me. I need Peeta.
That night is like all of the others we spent together. Peeta holds me in my sleep and
nothing more. But there is still something different about tonight, too. Peeta had opened the
door to my heart a little. With a little more time, I'm sure it'll come open. And when it does,
we'll have a toasting. We'll really be married. And then I will give myself to him.



A/N When I had the idea to write this, I wanted it to just be a one-shot. But it
bugged the heck out of me that the Capitol was still in power and I wasn't
convinced at Katniss' happiness with her marriage and I wondered what would
happen when she got home. I put it up as a one-shot anyway, but now...it hasn't
left my brain and reviews make me very easy prey to adding something else on my
fanfic load. So here's my thoughts of what would have happened after as well.
"Oh, we'll miss you so much!" Flavius cries. Venia and Octavia shout agreements, bobbing
their silly heads up and down. I smile at them good-naturedly.
"But at least we only have two more months until the Games," Venia tries to hold back her
tears. "Then we'll get to see you again."
My stomach rolls. Two more months until I'm back here. Until I mentor another girl through
the Games, most likely to her death. Until I have to act like I'm thrilled to be a part of this
freak show. Until I'm supposed to be...pregnant.
A week of honeymooning in the Capitol and there is still no chance for me to be having a
baby, despite the many bottles of champagne the President sent us and all of the seductive
music the hotel played and apparently "couldn't turn off". Peeta put no pressure on me
whatsoever. He kept on assuring me he never expected that from me, even though I'd
foolishly blurted out to him the three words I never wanted to say to any man. And I think I
believe him. At least for now. But the memory of the Capitol and what they could do leaves
me thrashing in nightmares, having me wake to Peeta holding me and hushing me. I don't
get pregnant and they arrange an "accident" for my loved ones. Get pregnant, and my child
goes to the Games. There is no way to win.
"Good luck with everything Katniss," Cinna says in his quiet voice, hugging me. I return the
gesture, wanting to hold onto his friendship a little longer. Once I release Cinna, I'll have to
go home and face this new life. It scares me still.
But let go I must, and Peeta's waiting with his hand open to take mine. I clutch onto him
and turn to wave good-bye to our prep teams and the paparazzi that have shown up to take
the final images of us before we return home.
Our families, Haymitch, and Madge returned to District 12 the day after our wedding. Effie
had no reason to escort us this time, and our prep teams and stylists are to remain in the
Capitol. Other than the attendants, Peeta and I are the only ones on the train. It's strange.
Then I realize how there will no longer be times for the two of us to be apart, at least, not
many. Before, Peeta always had to go home at night and he usually never stayed with me
all day. And suddenly, I worry how long this will last. We'll be meshing our two lives
together completely. How will all of this work? How will we fill our time?
"Do you want some lunch?" Peeta asks me.
I nod my head, since there really isn't much else to do. We go to the dining cart and sit
down before a feast. They have included the lamb stew as usual. I smile to myself. They
never forget it.
As the miles between us and District 12 decrease, I find myself wondering more and more
how my new life will be. More importantly, what my relationship with Gale will be like. My
gaze drops to my stew as I remember the last time I saw him
As the day to the wedding came closer, Gale wanted to see me less frequently and when we
did speak, he was much grumpier than usual. He didn't like it one bit. I was sure I had lost
him forever, until the day before we were to leave for the Capitol, he was at my doorstep,
smiling brightly.
"Gale!" I exclaimed, a grin breaking across my face as I saw him.
"Katniss," he said breathlessly, "you don't have to do this."
"What?" I asked him, confused.
"You don't have to marry Peeta," his eyes sparkled with this thought. "There's a way around
it."
"What would that be?" I asked Gale, folding my arms. Although if I have to admit it, I was
hopeful he wasn't just pulling my leg.
"Look, there's more out there in the woods than we know," Gale said. "We can make a run
for it, both of our families."
"I thought you didn't want to do that," I replied curtly. "I thought you wanted to stay and
fight."
"Look, this afternoon, I swear I saw a hovercraft. But it wasn't from the Capitol," Gale
raised his eyebrows.
"What?" I shrieked. I pushed him back onto the street, away from my house that was surely
bugged. I looked up at him furiously. I hissed, "You can't just go saying something that!
And what were you thinking, going in the woods like that?"
"They're cutting our pay even more," Gale shook his head. "I've found a weak spot in the
fence they didn't secure. So I snuck out to just get a few pickings for my family. I was very
careful, Katniss."
"You know I'll help you with whatever you need," I said. "Just ask."
"I don't want your Capitol money," Gale narrowed his eyes. "Look, trust me, there's
someone else out there. Remember what you said about District 13? I think you were right.
I think they're alive."
I shook my head. "This is pure craziness Gale! And you know Haymitch and Peeta would
never go for it, even if we could get our mothers and the kids to come, too."
"Peeta? Haymitch?" Gale laughed disbelieving. "The drunk and the person who's forcing you
into this marriage? Really Katniss?"
"You know they would be taken if I just disappeared!" I exclaimed.
"They don't know anything."
"Do you think that would stop the Capitol?"
"No," Gale relented. "But still, if this got a rebellion going-"
"I'm not listening to this," I put my hands over my ears to illustrate my point. "This is
insane!"
"But Katniss, if we don't act nowyou'll be gone forever," Gale's forehead creased.
"I'll still be here," I assured him. "I'll still be Katniss."
"Katniss Mellark," Gale spat out. "You'll be his wife."
I didn't have anything to reply to that. Because I would. And neither of us liked that very
much at all.
"Have a great time in the Capitol," Gale said coldly. Then he turned around and walked
away. My heart hated watching him go.
"Gale!" I called out to him, but he didn't turn around
A shiver runs down my spine and my spoon clattered as I lose grip on it.
"Are you okay Katniss?" Peeta asks, his face concerned for me.
I nod my head quickly, but a tear is in the corner of my eye. I close them for a moment to
recompose myself, my arms crossed. I can hear Peeta scrape his chair back and walk over
to me. His hand is on my cheek.
"No you're not," he whispers. "What is it Katniss? Tell me."
"Gale's not going to be my friend anymore," I say, a sob building up in my chest that I
release. I open my eyes to look at Peeta's broken expression.
"I'm sorry," he tells me. And his apology is genuine.
I bite my lip, feeling guilty. "I shouldn't be acting this way."
"No, I want to know how you feel," Peeta says to me. "I want to help you."
I can't tell him that nothing he could do would fix this. After all, he did give me a way to
escape. A way to be with Gale. But I didn't take it. I don't regret it even now, because that
life would have been worse for me. But even so, choosing to keep Peeta as my husband
meant that I would never be friends with Gale again. And that hurt me.
I don't know what else to do, so I lean in and kiss Peeta. I've been trying ever since our
wedding night to be affectionate with Peeta without a camera or audience around, so
eventually this will be natural. So we can work up to what we will have to do eventually. I
like to think that it helps, but we hadn't gotten much farther than we had in the past yet.
Because Peeta was making me do all of the work, and I don't have the power yet to take it
anywhere.
"Come on," Peeta pulls away. "Let's go do something, hm?"
I nod my head and take his hand. We go into a separate car and play game with a deck of
cards. I win all of the games, since most of them involve quick reflexes and as a hunter I
have them. Peeta's a good sport about it of course. I laugh and actually enjoy myself for the
first time this trip. Our visit to the Capitol only left us with moments alone at night, so the
rest of the time we were acting for the crowds of people watching us sightsee the Capitol.
And while that was fun, it didn't feel real. Not like this. When I didn't have to question my
actions or do things I normally wouldn't. When I could just be myself with Peeta.
After dinner, we settle into our bedroom. He showers first, and then after he's finished I
step in. When I'm done, I stand in the bathroom with a towel around me, wondering once
again whether I should just go out and face my fear. But I end up putting my pajamas on
once again.
How ridiculous am I? Even though I know some part of me loves Peeta, I'm still not ready.
Peeta's almost asleep when I climb into bed. His eyes open when I jostle into my place in
the sheets. I lay down next to him. He reaches out and touches a strand of my hair.
"Still wet," he notes.
"Didn't feel like drying it," I reply.
He smiles and his eyes close again. And for some reason, seeing him like this is what warms
my heart to him. Tired, gentle, peaceful. I find myself leaning forward to kiss him. I can feel
his eyelashes flutter against my cheeks as he realizes my lips are against his.
"Peeta," I whisper.
"Hm?"
"I think I'm ready."
His eyes pop open. "What?"
"I'm ready," I say.
"Katniss, you know I'm not"
"I know," I say. "But I reallyI'm ready now."
"O-okay," Peeta gulps. "I didn't think this would be happening so soon, so I'm umnot sure
really what I'm supposed to do"
Well, make that two of us. I press my lips against his again, knowing where to start. I can
do this. I will do this. I'm not sure what happened between the shower and laying here by
Peeta, but I feel safe now. And that's all I want. To feel safe with the person I'm going to
love.
We kiss for a long time. I keep waiting for him to tug off my shirt or pants or something,
but he doesn't. I wait for it and wait, but it never happens.
"Peeta," I say. "Why aren't you...you know, taking off my clothes?"
"I've been waiting for you," he says with his forehead creased in confusion.
I laugh and lean back on my own pillows. He smiles, too.
"I was waiting for you," I tell him.
"Oh." He looks away sheepishly. "I'm sorry. But I still feel strange about it. I mean, I know I
love you. And what affection we've had so far I've enjoyed. A lot. But I can't help feeling
that we're still really beginning our relationship."
I twist my hands uncomfortably. What he said made sense. This really was our beginning
steps of having a real relationship, disregarding the cameras and audience. Still, I know this
won't ever not be an act.
"But the Capitol expects me to be having a baby next time we're there," I remind him.
He takes my face in his hands. "Less than two months is no time to work that out, even if
we were trying. They won't kill anyone if we wait a little longer. And I don't want us to be
dictated by them anymore, Katniss. I'm tired of the act. We'll decide when we're ready. Not
them. And even if they have to wait another year or two for a child, let them wait. This is
too important."
"I really do think I'm prepared for it though," I tell him. "I don't want to lose this feeling. I
don't know if I'll ever get it back for sure."
"Katniss," Peeta says gently, "if we were really ready, we wouldn't have been waiting in the
first place. If we ever feel like we're supposed to, we won't have to think about it."
But what if I never feel that way? I wonder. What if I'm incapable of those feelings? What if
I keep you waiting forever? What then?
But tonight is not a time for those questions. Instead, I nod my head. "Okay."
He kisses me one last time, and my head finds its way over his heart. I yawn and close my
eyes. Tomorrow will be a new day. Tomorrow, we'll be back in District 12 and we'll figure
out how we're going to be spending the rest of our lives.
Peeta and I settle into his house when we arrive home. My mother and Prim continue to live
in the house that is technically mine, but I allow them to use. After all, it's still my house,
even if I don't live there. But Peeta and I are married, and married couples live together.
And so that's what we do.
It's a nice life Peeta and I have. We wake up and make breakfast, then spend the morning
together. In the afternoon I go to see Prim home from school and talk with my mother while
Peeta helps his family with the afternoon rush at the bakery. Peeta comes back and we
either eat with my family or spend the night alone. We share a bed, but nothing more. And
after the train, neither of us talk about it, either.
I find myself absently running my fingers through Peeta's hair at times, or taking a hold of
his hand without thinking. Little gestures like this are becoming natural to me. Maybe after
playing a role for so long, it was bound to become part of me.
Still, I can't help but feel my life is a littleoff. The seeming perfection on the outside isn't
at all real. The Capitol and their power still haunts me. And I wonder if it's because they
want me to be with Peeta that even as his lips hover over mine when we say good-night, I
can't move further. Because thinking of being with him only makes me think of satisfying
the Capitol.
And yet, I must satisfy them. I wake up from my dreams screaming as they take Prim and
rip her apart. As new faces that I don't know, and yet I know they are my children, are
trapped in an arena, and I scream until Peeta wakes me up.
One night a week before the Games are to start again, I cry louder than I have before. The
Games are coming closer and I'm dreading it. Soon the images will come back to me. I'll
struggle to help the poor girl survive. Only what are her chances? So slim. So small that
she'll ever see her loved ones again.
Peeta kisses the top of my head, knowing I need a few minutes to calm down before I can
talk to him. And he waits for me, as he always does.
"It's so close," I sob into his chest.
He holds me tighter. "I know."
"No wonder Haymitch became a drunk," I say. "I would have, too, if I didn't have you to
keep me sane."
"And I'm not going anywhere," Peeta whispers in my ear.
I press my lips against his neck, so grateful that I did have Peeta to rely on. That whatever
we went through we would go through together, and he wouldn't be leaving me. At least I
could have him as a constant in my life.
"Katniss, sometimes I wonder"
I move back a little to see his face. It's grim in determination, but careful. He wants to say
something he shouldn't. Because we both know our home isn't safe from the Capitol. And
we can't have anything treacherous against us. The berries alone became enough for the
two of us to be on the Capitol's permanent watch list.
"Should we go for a walk?" I ask him.
He laughs. "In the middle of the night?"
"Sure. I know I can't sleep after that dream," I say.
"Okay."
We dress and head out the door. Even though there's no one to show for, I grab hold of
Peeta's hand. The nightmares still trail me and I have to remember I'm still here. A more
manageable nightmare. We walk down the way, toward the empty homes of the Victor
Village that will probably never be filled. Everything feels sinister on this street that's
supposed to be ours. But I've never quite gotten used to being surrounded by large houses,
and the dark makes it more chilling.
"Katniss," Peeta says. "I don't want to live like this anymore."
"Like what?"
He shakes his head. "I still can't help but feel like we're children playing house. But we're
doing it for them. You know I love you, and I've always wanted to marry you, but I never
wanted our life to be like this. I don't want to spend the rest of our lives with nightmares
every time we sleep, or be part of their Games, or make a child just to have him or her die
to be part of their entertainment. I don't want to do it anymore."
"What are we suppose to do?"
He looks at me with raised eyebrows. Of course. Rebellion.
"Haymitch made it clear that's impossible," I remind him.
"I think there's something going on beyond us," Peeta tells me. "I think Haymitch might be
a part of it, even. I don't know. But there's something happening. I think we've been
helping them stall, or to be a distraction for the Capitol. But I'm done with being the poster.
I want in."
His blue eyes take on a glint I remember in someone else's eyes. Someone else I, too,
cared about and I've already lost because of the Capitol. Although certainly not physically,
but it was because of the Capitol Gale didn't speak to me anymore. That look in Peeta's
eyes were the same as Gale's, though, and I can't help but feel dread at the thought of
losing him because of it. It scared me.
"Peeta, what about what Haymitch said?" I ask. "About staying alive?"
He grins at me in an ironic sort of way.
"What about being more than a piece in the Capitol's game?"
"You said that one."
"And I was right."
I shake my head, the fear grabbing hold of me. I can't let him do this. The Capitol is already
watching us so closely, any wrong move could bring the full force down on us. And I can't
bear it if they hurt him.
"Look, we can't do anything right now," Peeta says. "But whenever we're with the victors at
the Games, I feel like there's something going on. We'll try to find something at the next
Games. Something we can dig into."
"Okay," I say to hopefully quiet him rather than get him excited by disagreeing. "But we
have to be very careful."
"Of course," Peeta agrees. "And Katnissto do something, we should go to the other
districts, to see how they're faring, or to see how to get them involved."
"But Peeta, we can never go to the other districts."
He raises his eyebrows. "Unless we mentor this year's victor."
It was too much to hope for.
"And if we don't?" I ask.
"We'll find another way," Peeta decides. "Talk to the other victors or something, get in on
whatever they have going already."
"This is crazy Peeta," I can't help but whisper. Hearing him talk of plans is too much for me
to take all at once.
Peeta stops walking. He looks at me with blazingly passionate eyes.
"It is," he nods his head. "But wasn't putting those berries in our mouths, too?"
"And look what it brought us."
"You're right, look at us. About to free everyone from the Capitol. To make them
accountable for what they've done to us, to all of us."
I bite my lip and look away from him. He's always able to convince anyone of anything. I
know that, so I shouldn't be so sure with what he's saying.
"What happened, Katniss?" Peeta asks in a whisper. "You used to be pushing Haymitch and
I to do something. And now you've lost your drive."
"I had to mentor the Games and everything came back to me," I answer in a trembling
voice. "I saw all of the power the Capitol had and I knew that the two of us and a few
berries wouldn't be able to overcome it. So why should I jeopardize everything I love?"
"Because it's the only way we can truly live," Peeta tells me. "Do you really feel alive right
now, Katniss?"
I remember the quiet discontent of my first few weeks home. I shake my head. I'm not
alive. I haven't been for the longest time. But what if we go into this, and I lose one of
them? One of the people I love? The pain would be unbearable.
Overcome, I throw my arms around Peeta and kiss him. I try to push this awful feeling of
losing him and everyone else away from me. Peeta is always supposed to be here, that's
what we promised when we were married. He can't do this and be killed by the Capitol. I
wouldn't let him.
"Well, I suppose we'll have to see where things go?" Peeta asks.
I sigh and nod my head. Right now, it really was the only thing to do.
I'm frantically running through the Training Center, looking for my tribute. I know I have to
help her, somehow, whatever way I can. But I need to find her first. The halls are eerily
empty, and I push open empty doors, trying to get to her in time, before someone or
something else does.
Finally, one door holds her. But it's wrong. She's in a net. Why is she in a net? The situation
feels horribly similar, and then, there's a spear in her stomach. I gasp, my gut wrenching,
when I see it's President Snow who threw the spear.
He smiles at me in that way only President Snow can, and I'm frozen in his gaze. From
behind him comes a small blue-eyed child that I immediately recognize as my own. I reach
out for him to come to me, and he does. I scoop him up in my arms to take him and run
away.
"You will never be able to escape," President Snow tells me in a chilling tone.
The weight of the child increases and he grows. He grows until it is nearly impossible for me
to go any farther holding him. He gets too heavy for me and I drop him on the ground,
stumbling, until I finally flail and trip.
When I look back up, my child is Peeta, or at least, he looks like my husband. And then the
mutts drag him off. My heart rips out of my chest and I begin screaming, begging for him to
come back, to not leave me
"Katniss!" Someone calls my name. "Katniss!"
My eyes open and Peeta is sitting up beside me, with that look on his face that tells me I've
had another nightmare. I realize I'm choking on my tears. Without another thought, I'm in
Peeta's arms.
"It's today," I cry. "It begins today."
"I know," Peeta says sadly.
"What if it's Prim?" I wonder. "I can't volunteer for her again."
"It won't be," Peeta tries to reassure me. "The people love Prim, Katniss, and putting her in
the Games would only upset them. She's never taken out tessarae, and so her chances are
slim without the Capitol rigging the reaping."
"It happened before," I whisper. "And that time she only had one name."
"Prim is going to be fine, Katniss," Peeta promises.
Peeta always keeps his promises to me. I suppose, then, Prim will be okay. I know the odds
are against it happening. Still, I know that nothing good will come from today.
Peeta tries to get me to eat, but my stomach won't settle. Yet he looks at me in such a
worried way that I give in and take a few bites of toast. It's dust in my mouth, though. I
can hardly swallow, hating the feel of it go down my throat.
"Come on, we have to meet Effie in an hour and we aren't dressed yet," Peeta says.
He tugs me up to our room where he hands me the dress Cinna had sent for me to wear
today at the reaping. Yes, I am sure that if it weren't for having Peeta I would have become
like Haymitch.
Peeta leads me along as we go to get Haymitch up. He's not as hung-over as usual, and
thanks to Hazelle's position as housekeeper, his clothes aren't too bad either. Since neither
Peeta or I want to get in the argument that would surely ensue if we tried to get him to
change, we just haul him out to the car that's already waiting, since experience taught the
Capitol Haymitch wouldn't be walking to the reaping.
We ride in the car with Haymitch. Peeta lets me sit up front while he stays with Haymitch in
the back. As we go down the road, people stop and stare at us. Suddenly, I am ashamed of
my face, because every person here dreads it. Seeing it up on the stage today meant that
the children of District 12 once more were not safe. I loathe being presented this way. I
didn't ask for this. Don't they know how much worse this is for me than them? And I'll be
doing this year after year.
We end up behind the stage. I try to look and find Effie, wondering what color hair she has
this year, but I don't see her. As we step out of the car another woman comes marching up
to us. She's in a ridiculous lime green suit. Her hair is lemon yellow and protruding out of
her head in spikes. The blue lipstick ties it all in with such brightness District 12 has never
had before.
"Hello," she says. "My name is Morta Randall. I am District 12's escort this year."
She's nearly opposite to all people of the Capitol I've met before. Effie and my prep team
are bubbly and air-headed. But Morta is so serious and almost professional.
"Where's Effie?" Peeta asks in confusion.
Morta looks down at him coldly, pursing her lips. "She was promoted. District 7."
I glance over at Peeta and he gives me the same look. Something is off. It's not just that
Effie is no longer our escort. It's also that Morta is far from being like any other escort. Even
those for the Career districts have a silly smile on their face. But Morta's mouth stays in a
frown.
"Well, it seems everyone is assembling," Morta says. "Let's go and have some fun, shall
we?"
The clock rings at two, and the reaping begins as usual. Peeta, Haymitch, and I take our
seats up on stage. I look out at the sea of children and my stomach churns. Which one of
them will be fighting for their life? My eyes fall on the section of twelve-year-olds, their eyes
all wide with fear of being chosen. They remind me of Rue. So young and innocent. Taken
much too young from this life
Peeta takes my hand. I've been trembling. I try to find reassurance in his eyes, but he looks
frightened as well. He tries to hide it, of course, but I can see it in the crease of his
forehead.
Then the Mayor begins speaking, and so both of us have to turn our attention over to him.
He repeats the same speech that's been told seventy-five times before. The list of disasters
and the Dark Days and the rebellion, and how the Capitol saved us all, but not without a
sacrifice. It makes me angry. This is all so wrong.
"And the victors from District 12 include," the mayor begins, "The deceased Stefan Greer,
Haymitch Abernathy, Peeta Mellark, and Katniss Everdeen Mellark."
As he calls each of our names we're to stand. Haymitch misses his cue, but Peeta and I let it
be. I keep my grip tight on Peeta as we accept the applause. Then we sit as the clapping
dies down. Now it's Morta Randall's turn.
"Happy Hunger Games," Morta says in a straight tone. Then she says with a twist of evil
amusement, "And may the odds be ever in your favor. I am so glad to be here with you
today to celebrate the Hunger Games and select this year's tributes for District 12. Girls
first, as always."
With a no-nonsense strut, Morta heads over to the ball containing the names. I look out and
find Prim in the audience, as worried as everyone else. Please not again, I think to
myself. Not Prim.
Morta pulls out the fateful slip.
"Crimson Nettle," Morta says in a clear voice.
My relief is only brief. I have only a moment to be grateful Prim is safe until the hurt of
meeting my new tribute is rooted deep inside of me. My eyes find her; she looks to be
around seventeen and is clearly from the Seam. She seems in a daze of what's happening,
like she can't believe it was her name that was called. She reaches the top of the stage and
stands there.
"And now, for the boys," Morta turns to the ball containing the boys names.
I'm still looking at Crimson, trying to examine her, if she has any hope. I like to think she
does. She seems to be on the naturally taller side, and like she could be athletic. Maybe she
can win.
I blink and shift my gaze back to Morta, who holds the slip in her hand.
"Rory Hawthorne."
Rory? ButGale and Hazelle had made sure Rory would never have to take out any more
names for tessarae! I had made sure of it! His name was in there as many as Prim, and he's
just fourteen. He's just a boy. I feel my breathing become shallow. Rory is a tribute. Our
Rory.
He walks up bravely with his chin high, but he's shaking. I want to go over and still him. I
want to throw my arms around Rory and let him know I won't let anyone hurt him. That I'll
get him through this.
"Well, Hawthorne, that name sounds familiar," Morta says. "Why is that?"
Rory is puzzled for a moment, but then he quickly looks at me and recalls, "I'm Katniss'
cousin."
"Oh, why that's right," Morta nods her head. "Well, District 12, here are your tributes for the
Seventy-Sixth Hunger Games!"
I'm Katniss' cousin. Is there something going on here? I think of the change of escorts and
Morta's strange behavior. Could the Capitol have rigged this? But why? I haven't done
anything wrong. I married Peeta, for crying out loud!
The Mayor steps up and finishes the Treary of Treason as these thoughts race through my
head. Rory and Crimson shake hands. When it's done we must stand for the anthem. I find
myself leaning on Peeta as I'm unsteady on my own.
As soon as it's over, Peacekeepers are herding us back into the car. This time, Haymitch
takes the front while Peeta and I are in the back. I'm still shaking.
"Katniss, are you all right?" Peeta cups my face in his hands.
"You have to let me mentor Rory," I say.
Peeta shakes his head. "You'll be too emotional."
I toss his hands away from me. "I'll be fine! In fact, I'll be more concentrated on getting
Rory out, it's only fair to Crimson that we switch."
"Katniss, we have to treat them equally," Peeta tells me.
"How can you say that?" I scream at him. "Rory is as good as my brother! I helped keep
him alive! I taught him to shoot and I've made sure that he would never get reaped almost
as much as I've done for Prim. Of course we have to get him out!"
"I know," Peeta says gently. "I know Rory is very important. But Crimson has family, too.
People that love her and want her to come home. We can't pick favorites. We have to try
hard for both of them."
I shake my head. "We need to get Rory out!"
Peeta leans back and sighs. I turn away to look out the window, but I don't process what I
see. All I can think about is how I failed them. Rory, HazelleGale. I've disappointed Gale
once again. Rory's been reaped. He's going into the arena and I'm the only one from home
to be there for him. I have to bring him back.
When we pull up to the station, cameras are already perched to shoot us walking into the
train. But something's wrong because the train isn't there yet. I stand there, already trying
to work out a strategy for Rory. I can feel Peeta's hand in my hair, but I can't stand it. If it
weren't for the cameras, I'd move away from him entirely right now. He wasn't going to
help Rory they best that he could. He was going to help Crimson, Rory's competition!
"Katniss!" I hear a familiar voice cry behind us.
"Gale?" I ask, turning around.
I see him behind some Peacekeepers. I hurry over where Gale is being barred from coming
any further.
"Gale!" I cry. I look to the Peacekeepers. "Let him through!"
"Sorry ma'am, but only those going to the Capitol are allowed to pass," One of them says.
But he smirks as my face becomes more distressed. I hate him.
"He's my cousin! I need to talk to him!" I say. I haven't talked to Gale since I'd been
married. And right now seemed like a good time.
"Excuse me," Peeta is suddenly beside me, "My wife would like to speak to her cousin. Just
for a minute."
Then, smoothly, Peeta's hand is next to the Peacekeeper's. I catch a metallic glint in the
Peacekeeper's hand and know that Peeta's paid him off. Normally I would be disgusted, but
I really want to speak to Gale.
"Fine," The Peacekeeper relents and lets Gale pass.
He grabs both of my hands and forces me to look into his eyes.
"You have to get him out of there!" Gale exclaims. "You have to do it Katniss!"
"I'm going to!" I promise. "Rory's coming home. Just like I did."
Something strange passes Gale's eyes. "I'd prefer it if his homecoming was slightly different
than yours."
I find myself glancing over my shoulder to Peeta, who's looking at the ground, but can
obviously hear the conversation. He's exceptionally good at keeping his face completely
blank.
"Rory will come home, Gale," I say. "He will."
Then Gale has me in a crushing hug. It's been such a long time since I've been close to Gale
like this. It feels familiar to me. He hasn't changed at all. It's just been me. I'm the one
making all of our lives difficult.
As soon as Gale lets go, he's dashing away. I only hope the next time I see Gale, he'll be
smiling at Rory's homecoming.
Then the train finally pulls up and Peeta's tugging me onto the train. Haymitch shuts himself
in his room to get drunk for sure. Peeta mutters something about seeing to the baggage,
but we both know you never take clothes to the Capitol. They always provide them for you.
I think he's unsettled by that hug Gale gave me. Well, what was I supposed to do anyway?
He's my cousin to the rest of the country. And Gale knows. He doesn't want to lose Rory,
either.
When the train starts moving, Peeta comes back. I still want to avoid him so I go to take a
shower. I can kill thirty minutes by standing under the hot water.
But he's still there when I come out. I frown when I see him sitting there on the edge of our
bed.
"We need to talk," Peeta says in a calm voice.
"Fine," I spit out. I'm still mad at him.
He lets out a deep breath. "I thought about what you said. And I think we should work as a
team to mentor them."
"A team?" I ask.
"You obviously need to keep an eye on Rory," Peeta says. "But in case things get to be too
much, I'll be there. You don't have to do everything alone, Katniss."
I fold my arms. "I know."
"Then, is it agreed?"
I nod my head. I can't blame Peeta, I suppose. I should save my anger for who really
deserves itthe Capitol and stupid Morta Randall for picking Rory's name. But that makes
me wonder again if this was planned. Or if the people who I care about are just terribly
unlucky.
"Katniss, please, just remember Crimson is somebody's Prim," Peeta tells me. "You need to
treat her just like you did Mabel."
"Mabel died," I mutter.
"But you still tried your best," Peeta says.
I know he's right. I want Rory desperately to come home. I promised Gale he would. But I
still have a responsibility. And if Rory dies the first day, I'll want Crimson to win. So I need
to treat her as equally as I can.
"I will," I promise Peeta.
He smiles half-heartedly at me. Then he comes over and embraces me. I close my eyes,
trying to escape even if for just a moment.
"Come on," Peeta whispers as he pulls away. "Let's go meet our tributes."

A/N I've been thinking about renaming this fic. I mean, for the one-shot I meant it
to be, it fits. But "I Do" now sounds so sentimental when there's Hunger Games
and a rising rebellion going on. Anyone have any suggestions? (I suck at titles).
We have dinner with Rory and Crimson. Haymitch stays in his room, probably passed out
from the alcohol by now. Morta presides over the meal with a cold presence. Peeta tries out
different conversations, but they all fall flat. I see the red rimming Rory's eyes and I want to
reach out to him. But I can't. At least not while Crimson's watching.
On the other hand, our female tribute seems to be holding up fine. She practically inhales
the meal, but she grew up in the Seam. Although in comparison with some tributes I
suppose she's fairly neat.
"This year we've decided to mentor you two as a team," Peeta tells them toward the end of
the meal.
Crimson looks up. "A team? Last year didn't each tribute have their own mentor?"
"Yes," Peeta gives his head a nod. "But this year we think it would be best for Katniss and I
to work together. You'll each get double attention."
Crimson pushes her chair back and stands. "No it's not. It's because he's related to her! She
doesn't want to work with me and this was your compromise."
Ouch. It sounds ugly coming out like that. But Crimson still isn't seeing the big picture.
Peeta begins, "No, that's not-"
"Peeta, she's not stupid," I say. I look up at her. "Yes, this year it will be difficult for me
because Rory is a tribute. But this new change is in your best interest as well. Maybe you
will win, Crimson. And then, after someone you're close to has been reaped, then you can
judge me. But until then you need to sit down, shut up, and listen to us."
Crimson folds her arms but does sit back down. I lean against my chair and sigh. I feel so
drained of energy already. But I see Rory looking at me and I know I have to keep it
together for him. He's going to be relying on me. So I do what I always do and make sure
my face is devoid of any more emotion.
"Right, well, they should be airing the reapings now," Peeta says. "Let's go take a look."
I follow the rest of them into the TV room. Morta doesn't join us. Peeta flips the TV on and
we're just in time to see the first pair of tributes from District 1. Careers, naturally. I glance
over at Rory, who gulps at seeing his competition. Rory is so much like Gale, at least
physically. He's almost at six feet already, and although he's lanky from his recent growth
spurt, he still has a strength about him. Especially with the hard times on the District since
Thread's regime, Rory is prepared for hardship. Not like the Careers.
Two and Four have the expected Career tributes. There's one girl from Nine who's taller
than their Mayor even, and has a grumpy look on her face. The other notable one is a boy
from Seven who also looks mean andwell, like he could kill someone. Those axes the kids
work with do come in handy when it comes to the Games, too.
Once Crimson and Rory are pulled, the commentators note on how fascinating it will be to
have Katniss Everdeen Mellark's cousin in the Games this year. In past years, I would have
been angry at them. Now, I just expect it.
"Why don't you two go to bed now?" Peeta asks them. "We have a big day tomorrow."
Big day. It reminds me of Effie. I almost smile, but this day has been so exhausting.
Crimson and Rory walk back to their rooms. I stay on the couch, quietly trying to bring in
the day. The pain of it overcomes me again. But I have to be strong for them. I can't let
myself feel this way. I told Peeta I wouldn't let my emotions overcome me. So I couldn't let
them.
Even so, Peeta knows me.
"Katniss," he whispers, moving next to me.
I allow myself to look over at him. He's sympathetic and probably worried about me. I open
my mouth to try and say something, but my voice falters.
"I'm sorry," Peeta finally says. "I'm going to try and help you with this as best as I can. I
don't know how, yet, but we're going to make it through together."
I suddenly throw my arms over him and hold him tight to me. His grip on me is much less
forceful than the one I have on him, but I still feel secure. Together. That was Peeta and I,
always to be together.
After a few minutes Peeta lets go and kisses me on the forehead. "Are you ready for bed?"
I'm not really, but I can tell Peeta is, and I don't want him to leave me here alone. So I nod
my head and follow him into our compartment.

After breakfast we pull into the Capitol station. Cameras are all over the place. It's hard for
me to put on a smile today, and it's obviously forced. Although the people of the Capitol will
probably still see me as the blushing bride they sent off two months ago. They can never
imagine what this is for me. As we watch Morta take Crimson and Rory away, I realize how
small a pain this will be in comparison to mentoring one of my own. I don't even want to
think of what that will be like.
Haymitch is sober enough this morning, and we all head over to the mentor and old victor
gathering. With his arm around my waist, Peeta keeps me close to him, which I prefer
anyway. Last year when I let him get me a drink Finnick Odair had descended on me, and it
was all I could do not to let my disgust overcome my general manners. Not of course that
Finnick was disgusting, he was among the most gorgeous men I'd ever met, if not the most,
but the limited interaction with him always left me with a queasy feeling in my stomach.
Peeta leans in to my ear and whispers, "Remember, we're to try and learn as much as we
can about these people. And if there's anything going on."
When I laugh to pretend like he said something to amuse me, he kisses my hair to keep up
the act. Then I can see old Mags making her way to us. I smile at her garble. She grabs
Peeta by the face and tugs him down to her level, and kisses him on the forehead. Then she
turns to me, mumbles something, and kisses me on both cheeks. I nod my head like I
understand and then she points to my stomach.
My face falls immediately.
"Oh, not yet," Peeta laughs good-naturedly and covers for me while I recompose myself and
laugh, too.
But there's something in Mags' eyes that seems cautionary to me. She doesn't join in our
gaiety. The smile on her face is forced, too. The mumbles something else and leaves.
"What was that about?" I wonder.
"I don't know," Peeta replies. "But I don't see how our family life could be effecting theyou
knowat all."
"Maybe because if we're not playing mommy and daddy we could do something," I say. "We
wouldn't be worrying about someone else's life or how our absence would affect that
someone. We could help out then."
Peeta takes my chin under his fingers and gives me a kiss. Then he tells me, "Don't for a
second think that your absence wouldn't have an affect on anyone now."
"But it's different, you know it is," I say. "If we're going to do this, I don't know if I want a
child, Peeta. I don't want my child to go through what I did when my father died."
"This isn't the time to talk about it, is it?" Peeta asks. I shake my head. No, it isn't. We're
here to find out information.
Things are pretty much the same as they were last year. The Careers, with the exception of
Mags and Finnick, stick to themselves. Chaff and Haymitch play drinking games. Peeta and I
chat with Seeder, Beetee and Wiress, Cecilia, even Johanna Mason. But we know of course
whoever talks to us won't be spilling anything. They all (well, except for Johanna) ask us
about married life and give winks and nods about a family. I blush a lot while Peeta grins
and laughs. As if we had anything to blush and laugh about. Johanna Mason just complains
to us about the music and food and then drags Finnick into the conversation, only to leave
us when she gets a look at the outfit the last year's victor, Trixie, is wearing.
"Ah, the newlyweds," Finnick smiles and kisses us both on the cheek. "How goes it back in
District 12?"
"Oh, just perfect," I smile.
"Perfect?" Finnick asks. "Really?"
We both nod our head somewhat convincingly.
"Well, coal productions have been up, so I suppose things must be going well in District 12,"
Finnick agrees. I'm surprised. Finnick, talking about coal production?
"Well, of course in comparison to life before, District 12 has seen brighter days," Peeta
speaks up. "The new Head Peacekeeper has made life much different."
My eyes widen hearing Peeta talk that way. He's obviously alluding to the fact that everyone
in District 12 hates Thread and we're sorely oppressed now. All of this could be seen as an
attempt for the districts to join forces.
"Really?" Finnick says again, his eyes flitting around us. "How are the people?"
"Not happy, but frightened," Peeta says.
Finnick's face seems to give a slight gesture of disappointment, but he smirks again. "Well.
We all have to just get along, don't we?" Then he laughs. "But not us, of course. We're
victors. We don't ever have to worry again."
He leaves us with a strange expression on his face. But once two waitresses hurry to offer
him a beverage, I'm sure he's forgotten about us. But I still turn on Peeta.
"What was that?' I ask him.
"What?"
"Telling Finnick all about the status of District 12," I hiss.
"Look," Peeta mumbles. "If we can help, we have to let them know. We need them to trust
us."
Suddenly, I'm angry. "Don't you think if there was anything going on we would know by
now? After all, we started all of this excitement!"
"Not on purpose," Peeta says. "They may not know. And besides, we're following the
Capitol's orders. They may not trust us because of it. They might think we're scared."
"Well, they wouldn't be wrong," I say, looking away from him. I don't know why I can't look
Peeta in the eye right now. But I justI can't.
I hear Peeta sigh. "It's a party. Let's not fight."
I have to agree with that.
Then we see Morta approaching us. She looks down at the two of us through her long nose
and says, "I thought I would let you know that I've seen the children to their stylists
Augustus and Julietta."
"Wait," I pause. "What happened to Cinna and Portia?"
"Portia has gone to work independently and Cinna has family matters that leave
himunavailable for the games this year," Morta replies with a twisted grin.
Somehow, I do not think this is the case. But all I say is, "Pity."
"Isn't it?" Morta drawls. But her eyes look amused. Then she turns away.
Peeta and I look at one another. We both know that Portia isn't working independently. The
Games is the top for any designer, and most did work on other projects the rest of the year.
And Cinna never mentioned any family to me. For some reason, I always pictured him
alone. But suddenly I realize I hadn't talked to my stylist friend since I was married. A cold
feeling spreads in my stomach and I worry what the Capitol has done. First taken Effie, now
Portia and Cinna
We're being called to the City Circle to observe our tributes come out. We share our balcony
with Haymitch, Chaff, and Seeder, since we were divided by our districts. None of the
costumes are particularly interesting this year; at least, nothing in comparison to what
Portia and Cinna did. I groan when Crimson and Rory come out. Coal miners. Of course.
Since Peeta and I won, people had warmed to District 12 in general, so they get some
cheers, but nothing in comparison to the Career districts. We sit and listen to President
Snow's speech.
Once the chariots are racing away, reporters are talking to all of the mentors. Peeta and I
get asked personal questions, but as for the tributes, most of the questions are addressed
to me, as Rory's cousin. Peeta answers when he can, but the reporters learn to specify the
question to me and in such a way that I can only stutter out an answer. The emotional
aspect the questions prose are making me exhausted. That's when Haymitch bellows at all
of them to get out of the way and Peeta pushes us through.
When we get to District 12's floor, Rory and Crimson are changing and cleaning up. Unlike
the past two years when Portia and Cinnawere part of our plans, we don't invite Augustus
and Julietta up here. In fact, I'm sure just because they took Portia and Cinna's jobs I hate
them automatically. Morta doesn't bother to show up, either. Suddenly, I think that maybe
having Effie as an escort had been a blessing to Peeta and I.
"Our outfits were awful," Crimson says right when she comes in for dinner. She's the last to
arrive. "Why didn't we get Portia and Cinna? Their outfits are always a hit!"
Peetaand I glance at each other. I give a slight shake of my head.
"For different personal reasons, neither of them are designers this year for the Games,"
Peeta answers.
Crimson narrows her eyes in skepticism but doesn't argue about it anymore. She begins
plowing through her meal again. Rory can hardly eat. He just sits there twirling his spoon in
his stew.
"Rory, you need to eat," I say.
Rory looks up at me. "Why?"
"You need to build your strength," I remind him. "Extra weight will help you, as you'll lose it
so quickly in the arena."
Rory grumbles but begins to chew, however slowly. I keep my eye on him through the
meal, making sure he eats everything. He needs to get out of the mope mode if we're going
to get him back.
"Tomorrow we'll talk about your strengths, so we can develop a strategy for each of you,"
Peeta tells them. "And then, of course, you'll be going to training."
Crimson and Rory both nod their heads solemnly.
"Now go get some rest," Peeta tells the pair. They both obey.
Haymitch pulls out a drink. I sigh.
"These two are dead," Haymitch grumbles.
"Shut up Haymitch!" I shout at him. "You don't know anything!"
"Oh yeah?" Haymitch looks at me. "Why do they think they pulled his name, Katniss? Out of
chance? Ha! The Capitol is set on killing that kidthe one who's supposedly your 'cousin'.
And Crimson, well, she has some drive in her, but can she fight?"
"You're drunk," I tell him harshly, although I know that what he's saying is true.
I stand up to leave, only just then Morta Randall suddenly enters the scene. I become stiff
as her eyes come over me.
"The President is here to see you, Katniss," Morta tells me in an icy tone.
My eyebrows pull in. "Me? Why?"
"That is none of my business," Morta answers. "He's in the TV room."
Peeta gives me an alarmed look, but since he wasn't asked for we both know he can't follow
me. I lift my head up and nod once, then leave the dining room for the TV room. I'm tense
as I come in, as I would be approaching a snake. He's sitting there in the chair Haymitch
usually occupies, watching himself giving a speech. He has a smile on his lips and it appears
as if he is admiring himself. When I shut the door, he turns around.
"Katniss Mellark," the President smiles. "How kind of you to come to see me."
We both know I have no choice in the matter if he calls for me. But I stay cool. "My
pleasure."
His grin widens. "Now, may I inquire after your husband?"
"He's doing wonderfully, as always," I answer. Then it's silent, except for the TV turned
down low.
"We never get far with small chat, do we Mrs. Mellark?" President Snow asks.
"No, we don't," I agree. "So what is it you want from me?"
"A simple explanation of why you have yet to announce any news of a new child," President
Snow says. "I know you're a bright girl, Katniss. You couldn't have misread our last
conversation."
My breathing becomes shallow. But with those eyes watching me, I will not break.
"It's only been two months," I say. "Sometimes such things take longer than planned."
"If you put as much effort into this as you did everything else, well, then I might believe
you," President Snow says. He smirks. "Peeta is quite patient with you. Much more than any
other man would be."
I blush. How does he know? How does he know Peeta and I have never made love? Even
though I've always known my life was far from a private matter now, I guess I had just
assumed some parts of it would be reserved to be mine. That there had to be some
boundary of respect for me. Now I see I was mistaken.
"Although I wish he was more of a man and would just put you in your place," President
Snow says. This is the first time I have ever heard him speak so harshly. It startles me, and
even makes me angry. My heart pounds faster in fury.
"Peeta is a greater man because he doesn't," I say in a deadly tone.
President Snow laughs. "My, Katniss. You know, sometimes you even fool me."
My eyes narrow. Fool him? Fool him at what?
"I suppose you've come to discover that drawing Rory's name was not chance," President
Snow says. My blood chills over. So he's going to die. "It is a warning for you, Katniss. I can
take anything from your life to do whatever I will it. Now, you need not fret entirely, Rory
has as much a chance of anyone out there to win. After all, as you said, it has only been
two months. But this is your last warning. You must do as the Capitol says, or this is only
the beginning. I know how fond you are of your dear sister and mother, then in particular
that older cousin of yours. No one is safe, so long as you disobey me."
"I understand," I whisper.
"Very good," President Snow smiles. "Now, I ought to get to bed. This time of year is always
so busy."
He stands and leaves the room, his bloodied roses smell trailing behind him. I stand there
for a long while until I realize I have to go to bed, or Peeta will be worried.
Once Peeta enters my thoughts, I decide right away he can't know about this. I think back
to when he found his speech helped aid the massacre in District 11. How he smashed the
room in a way I could never picture him to. I imagine telling him that because he loved me
and respected me was the reason that Rory would, most likely, die. He would hate himself.
And when it happened, he wouldn't be happy. He would feel guilty. I know for me I will
probably just be going through the motions for the sake of making everyone I love safe, but
Peeta deserves more. He deserves to think that I want it, so he'll be okay. I've broken his
heart enough to do otherwise.
As I expect, Peeta is waiting up for me, his face anxious.
"What is it?" he asks. "What did President Snow want?"
"To tell me that pulling Rory's name was purely chance," I lie. "He wanted me to know Rory
isn't a target to die. We can still save him."
Relief seems to flood out of Peeta.
"I was so worried," Peeta says. "It seems like whenever he talks to you it's to bring another
threat."
I laugh nervously and cross the room to be in his arms. Then I kiss him. But I can't help
wondering if the President somehow knows this is happening right now. Or that he will
know. But of course he will. President Snow and I have no secrets, do we? Or, at least I
don't have any secrets hidden from him.
I try to unlock my hands from his neck so I can work off some buttons or something, but
they're still paralyzed in fear. Soon, Peeta pulls away.
"Katniss, you're shaking again," Peeta takes my trembling hands in his steady ones. And he
kisses each of my fingers, one by one by one.
"I'm so scared for Rory," I answer, my throat tightening. What I really mean is I'm so
scared for us. I really thought I could have loved Peeta enough with some more time. But
now with President Snow's new threat, I don't know if I'll ever be able to look at that
possibility the same again. He's shattered it. He's taken the last sliver of hope from me to
maybe make this life real. Now, it won't ever be.
"It's going to be fine, we know that now," Peeta assures me. "I'm here, Katniss, and I
always will be."
When he comes in to kiss me, though, I seem to forget my worries, at least for now.

A/N I've been thinking about renaming this fic. I mean, for the one-shot I meant it
to be, it fits. But "I Do" now sounds so sentimental when there's Hunger Games
and a rising rebellion going on. Anyone have any suggestions? (I suck at titles).
We have dinner with Rory and Crimson. Haymitch stays in his room, probably passed out
from the alcohol by now. Morta presides over the meal with a cold presence. Peeta tries out
different conversations, but they all fall flat. I see the red rimming Rory's eyes and I want to
reach out to him. But I can't. At least not while Crimson's watching.
On the other hand, our female tribute seems to be holding up fine. She practically inhales
the meal, but she grew up in the Seam. Although in comparison with some tributes I
suppose she's fairly neat.
"This year we've decided to mentor you two as a team," Peeta tells them toward the end of
the meal.
Crimson looks up. "A team? Last year didn't each tribute have their own mentor?"
"Yes," Peeta gives his head a nod. "But this year we think it would be best for Katniss and I
to work together. You'll each get double attention."
Crimson pushes her chair back and stands. "No it's not. It's because he's related to her! She
doesn't want to work with me and this was your compromise."
Ouch. It sounds ugly coming out like that. But Crimson still isn't seeing the big picture.
Peeta begins, "No, that's not-"
"Peeta, she's not stupid," I say. I look up at her. "Yes, this year it will be difficult for me
because Rory is a tribute. But this new change is in your best interest as well. Maybe you
will win, Crimson. And then, after someone you're close to has been reaped, then you can
judge me. But until then you need to sit down, shut up, and listen to us."
Crimson folds her arms but does sit back down. I lean against my chair and sigh. I feel so
drained of energy already. But I see Rory looking at me and I know I have to keep it
together for him. He's going to be relying on me. So I do what I always do and make sure
my face is devoid of any more emotion.
"Right, well, they should be airing the reapings now," Peeta says. "Let's go take a look."
I follow the rest of them into the TV room. Morta doesn't join us. Peeta flips the TV on and
we're just in time to see the first pair of tributes from District 1. Careers, naturally. I glance
over at Rory, who gulps at seeing his competition. Rory is so much like Gale, at least
physically. He's almost at six feet already, and although he's lanky from his recent growth
spurt, he still has a strength about him. Especially with the hard times on the District since
Thread's regime, Rory is prepared for hardship. Not like the Careers.
Two and Four have the expected Career tributes. There's one girl from Nine who's taller
than their Mayor even, and has a grumpy look on her face. The other notable one is a boy
from Seven who also looks mean andwell, like he could kill someone. Those axes the kids
work with do come in handy when it comes to the Games, too.
Once Crimson and Rory are pulled, the commentators note on how fascinating it will be to
have Katniss Everdeen Mellark's cousin in the Games this year. In past years, I would have
been angry at them. Now, I just expect it.
"Why don't you two go to bed now?" Peeta asks them. "We have a big day tomorrow."
Big day. It reminds me of Effie. I almost smile, but this day has been so exhausting.
Crimson and Rory walk back to their rooms. I stay on the couch, quietly trying to bring in
the day. The pain of it overcomes me again. But I have to be strong for them. I can't let
myself feel this way. I told Peeta I wouldn't let my emotions overcome me. So I couldn't let
them.
Even so, Peeta knows me.
"Katniss," he whispers, moving next to me.
I allow myself to look over at him. He's sympathetic and probably worried about me. I open
my mouth to try and say something, but my voice falters.
"I'm sorry," Peeta finally says. "I'm going to try and help you with this as best as I can. I
don't know how, yet, but we're going to make it through together."
I suddenly throw my arms over him and hold him tight to me. His grip on me is much less
forceful than the one I have on him, but I still feel secure. Together. That was Peeta and I,
always to be together.
After a few minutes Peeta lets go and kisses me on the forehead. "Are you ready for bed?"
I'm not really, but I can tell Peeta is, and I don't want him to leave me here alone. So I nod
my head and follow him into our compartment.

After breakfast we pull into the Capitol station. Cameras are all over the place. It's hard for
me to put on a smile today, and it's obviously forced. Although the people of the Capitol will
probably still see me as the blushing bride they sent off two months ago. They can never
imagine what this is for me. As we watch Morta take Crimson and Rory away, I realize how
small a pain this will be in comparison to mentoring one of my own. I don't even want to
think of what that will be like.
Haymitch is sober enough this morning, and we all head over to the mentor and old victor
gathering. With his arm around my waist, Peeta keeps me close to him, which I prefer
anyway. Last year when I let him get me a drink Finnick Odair had descended on me, and it
was all I could do not to let my disgust overcome my general manners. Not of course that
Finnick was disgusting, he was among the most gorgeous men I'd ever met, if not the most,
but the limited interaction with him always left me with a queasy feeling in my stomach.
Peeta leans in to my ear and whispers, "Remember, we're to try and learn as much as we
can about these people. And if there's anything going on."
When I laugh to pretend like he said something to amuse me, he kisses my hair to keep up
the act. Then I can see old Mags making her way to us. I smile at her garble. She grabs
Peeta by the face and tugs him down to her level, and kisses him on the forehead. Then she
turns to me, mumbles something, and kisses me on both cheeks. I nod my head like I
understand and then she points to my stomach.
My face falls immediately.
"Oh, not yet," Peeta laughs good-naturedly and covers for me while I recompose myself and
laugh, too.
But there's something in Mags' eyes that seems cautionary to me. She doesn't join in our
gaiety. The smile on her face is forced, too. The mumbles something else and leaves.
"What was that about?" I wonder.
"I don't know," Peeta replies. "But I don't see how our family life could be effecting theyou
knowat all."
"Maybe because if we're not playing mommy and daddy we could do something," I say. "We
wouldn't be worrying about someone else's life or how our absence would affect that
someone. We could help out then."
Peeta takes my chin under his fingers and gives me a kiss. Then he tells me, "Don't for a
second think that your absence wouldn't have an affect on anyone now."
"But it's different, you know it is," I say. "If we're going to do this, I don't know if I want a
child, Peeta. I don't want my child to go through what I did when my father died."
"This isn't the time to talk about it, is it?" Peeta asks. I shake my head. No, it isn't. We're
here to find out information.
Things are pretty much the same as they were last year. The Careers, with the exception of
Mags and Finnick, stick to themselves. Chaff and Haymitch play drinking games. Peeta and I
chat with Seeder, Beetee and Wiress, Cecilia, even Johanna Mason. But we know of course
whoever talks to us won't be spilling anything. They all (well, except for Johanna) ask us
about married life and give winks and nods about a family. I blush a lot while Peeta grins
and laughs. As if we had anything to blush and laugh about. Johanna Mason just complains
to us about the music and food and then drags Finnick into the conversation, only to leave
us when she gets a look at the outfit the last year's victor, Trixie, is wearing.
"Ah, the newlyweds," Finnick smiles and kisses us both on the cheek. "How goes it back in
District 12?"
"Oh, just perfect," I smile.
"Perfect?" Finnick asks. "Really?"
We both nod our head somewhat convincingly.
"Well, coal productions have been up, so I suppose things must be going well in District 12,"
Finnick agrees. I'm surprised. Finnick, talking about coal production?
"Well, of course in comparison to life before, District 12 has seen brighter days," Peeta
speaks up. "The new Head Peacekeeper has made life much different."
My eyes widen hearing Peeta talk that way. He's obviously alluding to the fact that everyone
in District 12 hates Thread and we're sorely oppressed now. All of this could be seen as an
attempt for the districts to join forces.
"Really?" Finnick says again, his eyes flitting around us. "How are the people?"
"Not happy, but frightened," Peeta says.
Finnick's face seems to give a slight gesture of disappointment, but he smirks again. "Well.
We all have to just get along, don't we?" Then he laughs. "But not us, of course. We're
victors. We don't ever have to worry again."
He leaves us with a strange expression on his face. But once two waitresses hurry to offer
him a beverage, I'm sure he's forgotten about us. But I still turn on Peeta.
"What was that?' I ask him.
"What?"
"Telling Finnick all about the status of District 12," I hiss.
"Look," Peeta mumbles. "If we can help, we have to let them know. We need them to trust
us."
Suddenly, I'm angry. "Don't you think if there was anything going on we would know by
now? After all, we started all of this excitement!"
"Not on purpose," Peeta says. "They may not know. And besides, we're following the
Capitol's orders. They may not trust us because of it. They might think we're scared."
"Well, they wouldn't be wrong," I say, looking away from him. I don't know why I can't look
Peeta in the eye right now. But I justI can't.
I hear Peeta sigh. "It's a party. Let's not fight."
I have to agree with that.
Then we see Morta approaching us. She looks down at the two of us through her long nose
and says, "I thought I would let you know that I've seen the children to their stylists
Augustus and Julietta."
"Wait," I pause. "What happened to Cinna and Portia?"
"Portia has gone to work independently and Cinna has family matters that leave
himunavailable for the games this year," Morta replies with a twisted grin.
Somehow, I do not think this is the case. But all I say is, "Pity."
"Isn't it?" Morta drawls. But her eyes look amused. Then she turns away.
Peeta and I look at one another. We both know that Portia isn't working independently. The
Games is the top for any designer, and most did work on other projects the rest of the year.
And Cinna never mentioned any family to me. For some reason, I always pictured him
alone. But suddenly I realize I hadn't talked to my stylist friend since I was married. A cold
feeling spreads in my stomach and I worry what the Capitol has done. First taken Effie, now
Portia and Cinna
We're being called to the City Circle to observe our tributes come out. We share our balcony
with Haymitch, Chaff, and Seeder, since we were divided by our districts. None of the
costumes are particularly interesting this year; at least, nothing in comparison to what
Portia and Cinna did. I groan when Crimson and Rory come out. Coal miners. Of course.
Since Peeta and I won, people had warmed to District 12 in general, so they get some
cheers, but nothing in comparison to the Career districts. We sit and listen to President
Snow's speech.
Once the chariots are racing away, reporters are talking to all of the mentors. Peeta and I
get asked personal questions, but as for the tributes, most of the questions are addressed
to me, as Rory's cousin. Peeta answers when he can, but the reporters learn to specify the
question to me and in such a way that I can only stutter out an answer. The emotional
aspect the questions prose are making me exhausted. That's when Haymitch bellows at all
of them to get out of the way and Peeta pushes us through.
When we get to District 12's floor, Rory and Crimson are changing and cleaning up. Unlike
the past two years when Portia and Cinnawere part of our plans, we don't invite Augustus
and Julietta up here. In fact, I'm sure just because they took Portia and Cinna's jobs I hate
them automatically. Morta doesn't bother to show up, either. Suddenly, I think that maybe
having Effie as an escort had been a blessing to Peeta and I.
"Our outfits were awful," Crimson says right when she comes in for dinner. She's the last to
arrive. "Why didn't we get Portia and Cinna? Their outfits are always a hit!"
Peetaand I glance at each other. I give a slight shake of my head.
"For different personal reasons, neither of them are designers this year for the Games,"
Peeta answers.
Crimson narrows her eyes in skepticism but doesn't argue about it anymore. She begins
plowing through her meal again. Rory can hardly eat. He just sits there twirling his spoon in
his stew.
"Rory, you need to eat," I say.
Rory looks up at me. "Why?"
"You need to build your strength," I remind him. "Extra weight will help you, as you'll lose it
so quickly in the arena."
Rory grumbles but begins to chew, however slowly. I keep my eye on him through the
meal, making sure he eats everything. He needs to get out of the mope mode if we're going
to get him back.
"Tomorrow we'll talk about your strengths, so we can develop a strategy for each of you,"
Peeta tells them. "And then, of course, you'll be going to training."
Crimson and Rory both nod their heads solemnly.
"Now go get some rest," Peeta tells the pair. They both obey.
Haymitch pulls out a drink. I sigh.
"These two are dead," Haymitch grumbles.
"Shut up Haymitch!" I shout at him. "You don't know anything!"
"Oh yeah?" Haymitch looks at me. "Why do they think they pulled his name, Katniss? Out of
chance? Ha! The Capitol is set on killing that kidthe one who's supposedly your 'cousin'.
And Crimson, well, she has some drive in her, but can she fight?"
"You're drunk," I tell him harshly, although I know that what he's saying is true.
I stand up to leave, only just then Morta Randall suddenly enters the scene. I become stiff
as her eyes come over me.
"The President is here to see you, Katniss," Morta tells me in an icy tone.
My eyebrows pull in. "Me? Why?"
"That is none of my business," Morta answers. "He's in the TV room."
Peeta gives me an alarmed look, but since he wasn't asked for we both know he can't follow
me. I lift my head up and nod once, then leave the dining room for the TV room. I'm tense
as I come in, as I would be approaching a snake. He's sitting there in the chair Haymitch
usually occupies, watching himself giving a speech. He has a smile on his lips and it appears
as if he is admiring himself. When I shut the door, he turns around.
"Katniss Mellark," the President smiles. "How kind of you to come to see me."
We both know I have no choice in the matter if he calls for me. But I stay cool. "My
pleasure."
His grin widens. "Now, may I inquire after your husband?"
"He's doing wonderfully, as always," I answer. Then it's silent, except for the TV turned
down low.
"We never get far with small chat, do we Mrs. Mellark?" President Snow asks.
"No, we don't," I agree. "So what is it you want from me?"
"A simple explanation of why you have yet to announce any news of a new child," President
Snow says. "I know you're a bright girl, Katniss. You couldn't have misread our last
conversation."
My breathing becomes shallow. But with those eyes watching me, I will not break.
"It's only been two months," I say. "Sometimes such things take longer than planned."
"If you put as much effort into this as you did everything else, well, then I might believe
you," President Snow says. He smirks. "Peeta is quite patient with you. Much more than any
other man would be."
I blush. How does he know? How does he know Peeta and I have never made love? Even
though I've always known my life was far from a private matter now, I guess I had just
assumed some parts of it would be reserved to be mine. That there had to be some
boundary of respect for me. Now I see I was mistaken.
"Although I wish he was more of a man and would just put you in your place," President
Snow says. This is the first time I have ever heard him speak so harshly. It startles me, and
even makes me angry. My heart pounds faster in fury.
"Peeta is a greater man because he doesn't," I say in a deadly tone.
President Snow laughs. "My, Katniss. You know, sometimes you even fool me."
My eyes narrow. Fool him? Fool him at what?
"I suppose you've come to discover that drawing Rory's name was not chance," President
Snow says. My blood chills over. So he's going to die. "It is a warning for you, Katniss. I can
take anything from your life to do whatever I will it. Now, you need not fret entirely, Rory
has as much a chance of anyone out there to win. After all, as you said, it has only been
two months. But this is your last warning. You must do as the Capitol says, or this is only
the beginning. I know how fond you are of your dear sister and mother, then in particular
that older cousin of yours. No one is safe, so long as you disobey me."
"I understand," I whisper.
"Very good," President Snow smiles. "Now, I ought to get to bed. This time of year is always
so busy."
He stands and leaves the room, his bloodied roses smell trailing behind him. I stand there
for a long while until I realize I have to go to bed, or Peeta will be worried.
Once Peeta enters my thoughts, I decide right away he can't know about this. I think back
to when he found his speech helped aid the massacre in District 11. How he smashed the
room in a way I could never picture him to. I imagine telling him that because he loved me
and respected me was the reason that Rory would, most likely, die. He would hate himself.
And when it happened, he wouldn't be happy. He would feel guilty. I know for me I will
probably just be going through the motions for the sake of making everyone I love safe, but
Peeta deserves more. He deserves to think that I want it, so he'll be okay. I've broken his
heart enough to do otherwise.
As I expect, Peeta is waiting up for me, his face anxious.
"What is it?" he asks. "What did President Snow want?"
"To tell me that pulling Rory's name was purely chance," I lie. "He wanted me to know Rory
isn't a target to die. We can still save him."
Relief seems to flood out of Peeta.
"I was so worried," Peeta says. "It seems like whenever he talks to you it's to bring another
threat."
I laugh nervously and cross the room to be in his arms. Then I kiss him. But I can't help
wondering if the President somehow knows this is happening right now. Or that he will
know. But of course he will. President Snow and I have no secrets, do we? Or, at least I
don't have any secrets hidden from him.
I try to unlock my hands from his neck so I can work off some buttons or something, but
they're still paralyzed in fear. Soon, Peeta pulls away.
"Katniss, you're shaking again," Peeta takes my trembling hands in his steady ones. And he
kisses each of my fingers, one by one by one.
"I'm so scared for Rory," I answer, my throat tightening. What I really mean is I'm so
scared for us. I really thought I could have loved Peeta enough with some more time. But
now with President Snow's new threat, I don't know if I'll ever be able to look at that
possibility the same again. He's shattered it. He's taken the last sliver of hope from me to
maybe make this life real. Now, it won't ever be.
"It's going to be fine, we know that now," Peeta assures me. "I'm here, Katniss, and I
always will be."
When he comes in to kiss me, though, I seem to forget my worries, at least for now.

I open my eyes and look around. Last night I hadn't worked up the courage to be with
Peeta. With the Games heavy over us, I knew it wasn't the right time, even though
President Snow had come with specific instruction to get it going already. When we got
home we would deal with that issue. But for now, we both need to focus on the Games and
our tributes.
At breakfast we arrange to speak with Crimson and Rory separately. Rory leaves the dining
room while we stay with Crimson to discuss strategy.
"What are you thinking so far?" Peeta asks her.
Crimson looks down and shakes her head. "I'm not sure. I mean, I've never touched a
weapon before, and I don't know how to survive out in the wilderness."
"Then you have to pay attention in training," I tell her. "Fighting is important, but knowing
how to live is as well. Learn what is edible. How to purify water, start a fire, tie knots."
"But the point of the Hunger Games is to kill," Crimson says.
"No, the point is to survive," I say. "Which sometimes does require killing. But what good is
it if you don't know how to stay hydrated and fed?"
Crimson folds her arms and looks down. "I guess I see your point."
"Crimson," Haymitch speaks for the first time today. "Would you be open to an alliance?"
What is Haymitch getting at now? An alliance? For some reason, Crimson doesn't seem like
the type to align with someone. She seems so independent.
"Maybe," Crimson allows. "At least for the beginning."
Haymitch nods his head. "I think we have enough from you. Would you mind getting Rory
for us?"
"Sure," Crimson says and she leaves.
When the door is shut, I turn on Haymitch. "An alliance?"
"Look, so far all of District 12's victors have survived because of an alliance," Haymitch
says. "It would make sense."
Peeta and I look at each other. Neither of us had heard about Haymitch's Games before. We
wondered back in the cave, but all that we figured was that Haymitch had been able to trick
them somehow.
"You had an ally, Haymitch?" Peeta asks.
He makes a grumble in the back of his throat and then volunteers gruffly, "Yes. I'd be dead
if it weren't for her." Then he takes a long drink from his wine glass.
Suddenly, I grab for Peeta's hand. The memory of almost losing him overcomes me so
quickly I have to make sure he's still here with me. But in his grip, I also remember my
other little ally, Rue. The pain is crushing me again, even two years after her death. And
looking into Haymitch's face, I see something there, too, as he brings up his own ally after
all of these years. Yes, having someone to rely on in the Games is helpful. But unless you're
a Career, the inevitable haunts you forever.
Rory steps in then. He takes a seat across from us.
"Well, I think we all know you have some strengths, Rory," Peeta begins. "Just tell us what
they are."
"Um, I can shoot a little," Rory allows. "And Gale's been teaching me some snares. I'm
pretty good at those. And I know a little about the woods. I would know more, but with the
new Peacekeepers, I never really got the chance." He frowns.
"Well, fine-tune those talents," I suggest. "You aren't skilled enough yet at the bow and
arrows that you need to keep it secret."
"And keep an eye on the competition," Peeta adds.
Haymitch looks over at me, and somehow I know he wants me to bring it up. I turn my
attention back to Rory and ask him, "Rory, would you consider joining an alliance?"
Rory is startled. His gaze falls to his lap as he thinks about it. Finally he decides, "Yes, I
think I would."
"Then we'll keep that in mind when we talk strategy for you," I tell him.
Crimson and Rory then have to go down to the Training Center while Peeta, Haymitch, and I
all have to head down to try and get sponsors. I wish there had never been the front of the
Hawthornes being my cousins. Now I have to talk to everyone about Rory and why they
should sponsor him. I do play up our "familial" connection, claiming that winning is in his
blood. Peeta, meanwhile, tries to interest people in Crimson.
As of now, there aren't many sponsors biting. Other than the Careers or a noticeable tribute
like the boy from District 7 rarely get any sponsors at this point. There is still too much
uncertainty about it, without their scores or interview yet. But I like to think that I've gotten
some people at least considering Rory.
At dinner we ask Crimson and Rory how their day was and what they learned. Crimson talks
freely, Rory a little more reluctantly. It seems that large girl from Nine has been hanging
out with the Careers. Crimson says the Careers look a little lukewarm about her right now,
though.
"Okay kids, leave so we can talk about you," Haymitch tells them once the meal is over.
Crimson tosses Haymitch a dirty look but obeys, following Rory out the dining room door.
"What do you think?" Haymitch asks.
"They should be allies with each other," Peeta says. "I mean, there's not really many other
people we can trust, right?"
"I don't know if I like the idea of Crimson being allies with Rory," I say worriedly.
"He has a good four inches on her," Peeta assures me. "And we can always warn him about
being lulled into a sense of safety. Besides, with Rory's bare survival skills, I don't think that
Crimson would be in a rush to kill Rory. And a lot could happen."
I shrug my shoulders. "I guess."
"It's the best way, sweetheart," Haymitch tells me.
I sigh but let it be. Breakfast the next morning we tell them our request that they team up
together. Rory nods his head, and Crimson looks Rory over but doesn't say anything. She
probably realizes that Rory, in the end, is a decent choice for an ally. I only hope Rory will
be able to read her and know when to cut it off. For some reason, Crimson strikes me as the
type who does not have a problem with ending an alliance in a traitorous way.
They go to training and then at dinner we talk about their strengths to show the
Gamemakers. Since they are allies now, there's no reason to be secret. Especially since
neither of them have any particularly exceptional skills.
Crimson decides to give the mace a try, and maybe running around because she's a fast
sprinter. Rory says he's going to do some traps and maybe shoot some. I'm not feeling very
confident about it, but the scores are sometimes pointless now. A good score will help, but a
bad one won't hinder them.
I find myself leaning on Peeta more and more now. When we talk to sponsors, I keep a hold
of his hand.
"Katniss," he says when I follow him rather than break away, "What are you doing?"
"Please don't leave me Peeta," I ask him. "I'm so tired of these people. I don't want to talk
to them."
He looks into my face and sighs. "Come on then."
I talk more than I would like to. But Peeta does try to keep the conversation between him
and the sponsor. I have to reply to some questions about Rory, being his "cousin" and all,
but in comparison to the previous days, its very short.
At the end, my head rests against Peeta's shoulder as we wait for Rory and Crimson to
come back from their session with the Gamemakers. Haymitch is breaking open a fresh
bottle of wine. Since he's done talking with people, he can have some alcohol. Peeta and I
have to compromise with him, so he gets this now.
Rory comes in first. I sit up straight and ask him, "How did you do? Were you okay? How
did they seem?"
Rory shrugs his shoulders. "Okay I think. They didn't seem particularly impressed with my
traps, and my shooting was decent."
Crimson, however, does not have as great of news. Her mace didn't work as well as she had
planned. She was frustrated and fuming, not giving anything else to us about it, no matter
how much we coaxed her.
After dinner we sit down for them to announce the scores. The boy from Seven didn't get as
high of a score as I would have expected. Only a six. The girl from Nine got a seven. The
most surprising of the evening is definitely the boy from Ten, who got a nine. The Careers
got the normal high scores. Rory received a seven, and Crimson a four.
We congratulate them, but Crimson only rolls her eyes and huffs off to bed.
The next day is preparation for the interviews. Although an alliance, we split Rory and
Crimson just so we are more efficient with our time. Morta actually shows up to help with
their presentation. She's been absent most of the past few days, which none of us really
complain about. I remember the torture Effie put me through and wonder if I should follow
her just to supervise, because Morta is much more cold-hearted than Effie. But in the end, I
sit through the content coaching of Rory and Crimson. Haymitch and Peeta mostly
contribute here. They have a sort of good mentor/bad mentor thing going. Haymitch is
harsh, while Peeta calms and assures them.
Rory is first with us, and it's obvious what his interview will be focusing on. The relationship
he has with his dear cousin Katniss. It's really the main thing we have to push with him. The
Opening Ceremonies were a flop, his score was decent although forgettable, so the only
thing making him stand out here is me.
Crimson is much more difficult. In fact, in a way, she remind me ofwell, me. She's
snappish right off the bat. I do think part of it may be Morta's torture session, but she won't
play nice. When she snaps at Peeta, who is the hardest person to get angry at, I know this
isn't going well and I have to intervene.
"Crimson," I say to her, "I want you to stop."
"Stop what?" She asks harshly.
"Stop acting like you're with enemies," I say.
"They're betting on my life!" Crimson fires at me. "They are my enemies!"
"Look," I tell her, "Once you're out there, sometimes your sponsors are the only prayer you
have to survive. You want them to like you. I'm not saying they aren't your enemies, but try
to make them your friends. That's what you need to do tomorrow night."
Crimson folds her arms. "And how am I supposed to do that, exactly?"
"Imagining you're talking to your friend at home."
"Could it be my brother?" She asks.
"Yes," I smile at her. "Pretend you're answering your brother."
"Okay," Crimson lets out a deep breath.
After this, Crimson does a much better job responding to the questions. I go back to my
silence and thank Cinna, wherever he is, for that same advice he gave me two years ago.
The next day as our tributes are made over, we have another mentor and escort party.
Peeta seems bent on talking to everyone he can, still sure that something is going on
behind our backs. But personally, I don't pick up on anything out of the ordinary.
"Peeta, nothing is going on," I murmur to him as he turns away from talking to Effie, who
had bubbled about how excited she was to have finally been promoted.
"Its because they don't want us to know," Peeta insists.
"You really are going crazy," I tell him.
He shrugs his shoulders. "Maybe so. But I'd rather be crazy than miss something and get
screwed over."
I sigh. I hope once we get back home this will go away. I bite my lip and think that maybe if
I were pregnant Peeta's focus would change. Suddenly, I'm overcome with the vision of
Peeta with a small child. Our child. He wouldn't dare do anything rash then, with someone
so precious to worry about. But then my head is speeding ahead a few years, imagining a
reaping and a Games.
Peeta knows as well as I do that our child would end up in the Games. If I became
pregnant, he would only work that much harder to ensure its safety, putting him in peril.
And yet, not becoming pregnant would hurt everyone else I loved. I picture mentoring Vick
and Posy, maybe even Prim. And accident killing my mother or Hazelle. Gale falling down a
mine shaft.
What am I to do?
All I know that I can do is work to get Rory out alive. What happens after we'll deal with
when we're home.
I have been given a dress to wear, and Peeta has a suit. We meet Haymitch to look at our
tributes come out. Rory looks older than he actually is in his suit, which is good, because
younger tributes usually have a harder time getting sponsors. Crimson's stylist seems to
have gotten inspiration from her name, with her dress bright red. They both look good.
Better than their miner get-up.
This year Caesar has chosen a deep pink as his color palette. Still in that same sparkling
blue suit. I don't pay much attention to the interviews, as usual, until Crimson steps out.
She starts off a little shaky, but Caesar is helpful to her, and she doesn't do too badly. One
point in the interview sticks out to me, though.
"Well, Crimson, anyone special waiting for you back home?" Caesar asks her. Ever since
Peeta's big announcement I had come to realize just how often he asked that question now,
mostly to the older tributes.
"Just my brother," she answers.
"Oh, what can you tell us about him?" Caesar asks.
"He's fourteen years old and his name is Pine. He passed me up last spring and has been
telling me he's not my little brother anymore," Crimson smiles slightly. "I remind him then
that he'll always be my baby brother."
The audience gives a little laugh. I feel my chest tightening. Crimson's brother is Prim and
Rory's age. And I realize, this is the first time I'd seen Crimson smile, when she talked
about her brother. I feel a little ashamed, realizing how I had barely thought before how it
would be if Crimson didn't come home.
I want Caesar to go on about her brother, but he moves on to ask one more question before
the buzzer announces the end of the three minutes.
Rory steps up to do his interview. As was to be expected, Caesar asked Rory how he felt to
be following in the footsteps of his cousin. They spend most of the interview talking about
me and his relationship with me, and then move on a little to Rory's other family for the last
minute or so.
Once the anthem is over, we all hurry back to the cars to take us to the Training Center.
Reporters are everywhere, but we manage to get through. We eat dinner quietly with
Crimson and Rory. I think that the situation is finally settling on us all. But no one wants to
talk about it.
We watch the interviews again. I think no matter how long these Games go, no one will
ever be able to top Peeta's interview. It is certainly the most memorable to me.
Once the anthem is over for the second time, Peeta clicks the TV off. The silence is
disconcerting. But no one knows quite what to say.
"Remember to team up," I say suddenly. "Get supplies if you can, but focus on staying alive
first. And if you can, get rid of the Career's food. You'll stand a better chance that way."
They both look at me solemnly, and the sudden yearning for both of them to get out of
there erupts. Even for Crimson. I suddenly throw my arms around her, and then do the
same to Rory. And it's all I can take. Haymitch and Peeta can tell them the rest. But right
now, I can't.
I hurry off to the elevator and go down to the lobby, where mentors are beginning to gather
before we're all taken to the control room. I sit off in a corner, my eyes closed as I pace my
breathing. After ten minutes, Peeta and Haymitch join me. Peeta embraces me, but doesn't
say anything. And he doesn't need to.
"Okay you two kids," Haymitch says. "We got to go."
I draw away from Peeta', but keep his hand in mine. And I can tell it will be a very long time
before I let go.

We wait to sign sponsors. There aren't many takers, at least not yet. As the line to sponsor
Buck, the boy from District 10, grows longer, I become more and more depressed. Rory has
six sponsors, and Crimson four. I frown and lean my chin into my hand.
"The Games haven't even started yet, Katniss," Peeta reminds me, tucking a strand of hair
behind my ear. "There will be more sponsors when they see how well Rory and Crimson do."
I hope so. The pit of my stomach has this queasy, nervous feeling in it. I'm so worried
about both of them. In a matter of hours they could be dead. My throat tightens with the
thought of it.
By five in the morning the sponsors are non-existent, everyone having gone to bed so
they'll be well-rested for the beginning of the Games at noon. The mentors they file into the
control room. Each district has their own to eliminate any cheating that might occur. This
room will also be the living space of the three of us for the Games. Usually the escort will
pop in now and again. Effie had been like a second mentor to Peeta and I, since Haymitch
had been alone. But Morta only told us she'll be by "later".
We have a few hours ourselves to sleep. They've provided three beds for us. Haymitch kicks
off his shoes and immediately settles into one, snoring almost immediately. Peeta, also,
takes an open bed, sitting down, rubbing his eyes wearily. I look over at the other empty
bed. Since the control room isn't terribly spacious, all of the beds are meant for only one
person. I suppose I should be taking the other one, then. But the thought of sleeping alone,
without Peeta, even just being in separate beds, makes me unsettled. Unprotected, even.
I make my way over to where Peeta has stretched out.
"Mind if we share?" I ask him.
He smiles and scoots over for me. I let out a breath of relief, which is ridiculous. Of course
Peeta would make room for me. But I'm just so relieved that I won't have to go through a
second of this alone, even unconsciously.
I rest my head on Peeta's outstretched arm. His other fold around my waist protectively,
and I relax. I know I am safe.
Somehow, even though I know hell is going to start again in a matter of hours, I'm able to
sleep.
At eleven, an alarm goes off to wake us. I groan and push my face into Peeta's chest. I'm
tired. I don't want to get up. Peeta holds me tighter, as well, and kisses the top of my head
gently. My eyes close again, and I'm about to fall back asleep when my feet get shaken.
"All right you two," Haymitch growls, "don't make me be the responsible one this year. Get
up."
Peeta sighs and he releases me, sitting up. I follow suit. One wall, the longest in the room,
is dedicated to TV screens. We'll be able to look at several different shots of the arena and
choose the audio we want with pressure on a button. The screens are black right now. We
won't have any previous knowledge on the arena. We know as soon as our tributes and the
audience knows.
An Avox brings us breakfast. For some reason, I'm famished. I eat the stew, a bagel, a
hard-boiled egg, and some sort of blue jelly substance.
"Launch starts in five minutes," Haymitch notes, looking at the time.
Now I regret eating all of that food. I feel sick again. Peeta holds out his hand which I take
readily, and the three of us take our seats at the control panel. I don't plan on letting go of
Peeta's hand for a second of this.
The black screens then flick on, and all of them begin the countdown to the start of the
Seventy-Sixth Hunger Games.
Five.
Four.
Three.
Two.
One.
The screen is now filled with the arena. The first thing that hits me is how green it is. And
not with trees. Just grass. Deep green grass stretches out everywhere. There are only a few
things interrupting it: the craggy rocks that break the surface of the arena, the dark blue
lake, and the Cornucopia with the tributes and goods around it. The dark clouds give the
arena an even greater gloom.
Rory and Crimson are about seven tributes apart. They both look around the arena until
their gaze locks. I breathe out, knowing that they plan on working together still.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Claudius Templesmith's voice booms. "Welcome to the Seventy-
Sixth Hunger Games!"
The sixty seconds are agonizing. I'm sure that I'm cutting off the circulation in Peeta's hand
waiting for the gong to sound. Once it does, Rory is jumping down. Right straight in front of
him is a bow and a sheath of arrows. He grabs them. The tributes around him go running
from the Cornucopia. Strange, this year they seem to have place all of the Careers and
stronger tributes on one side and the weaker tributes on the oppositethe one with Rory
and Crimson. I wonder if there is a strategy to this. Maybe that the stronger will fight first,
then hunt down the weaker ones? I'm puzzled.
Crimson grabs a pack and some other random goods, but starts clearing out when one of
the Careers turns to her. But he only has a spear, and the good weapons are going fast, so
he decides to ignore her. After all, she wasn't seen as a threat to them.
Rory's side is empty now, and so he snatches a few other items before sprinting up to
Crimson.
I try to ignore what's going on with the Cornucopia. I know it's bloody and horrible. But
since my tributes are out, I won't concentrate on that as much.
"Well?" Rory asks Crimson. "Where should we go?"
"Up," Crimson answers. "Get a look around this arena."
And so our tributes press toward the elevated rocks, helping each other up the difficult
shelves.
"Well, now we know why Buck got a nine," Peeta says.
I take a look at the screen to see what he's talking about. Buck from District 10, livestock,
has gotten his hand on a length of rope and quickly has made it into a lasso. With ease, he
twirls it high over his head and captures the big, burly boy from Seven in it. The rope is
tight over Seven's arms, so Buck ropes him in, then slits his throat with a knife.
Buck loosens the rope from the dead boy's body and adds him to a pile of two others he's
killed.
The Careers have taken notice. One of them, a girl from District Four, is the one brave
enough to approach him.
"Livestock," she says. "You're used to slaughter, aren't you?"
Buck glares at her. "You could say that."
Four looks behind her. The Careers all nod eagerly at her. She turns back to Buck. "My
name is Mar. District Four. How would you feel about joining our alliance."
Buck shrugs his shoulders. "Don't mind, I guess."
Then comes the introductions. The boy and girl from District One are Dazzle and Silvia.
District Two is Avenant and Felly. District Four is Tristan and Mar. It seems District Nine
didn't get in like she wanted to. I search the screen, and find her along the edge of the lake,
looking back, disappointed.
Several tributes are by the lake, only spread out. It is a vast lake. You can't even see the
other side of it. One boy bends down to take a drink from it. He dips his face in, slurping up
the water thirstily. Stupid. That water could be poison.
Whatever the water is, though, that isn't what does him in. So quick I barely see it, the boy
gets yanked into the water.
"What did that?" I jump up straight, looking for what the danger is.
"Must be one of the Gamemaker's little friends," Haymitch says darkly, pulling out a drink.
I wait, but the surface remains calm. Until, suddenly, the boy is being thrown back out of
the lake. He flops against the rocks, obviously dead. My free hand covers my mouth. I really
hope that lake isn't the only source of water.
Rory and Crimson reach the top of the rocks by sundown. By then there has already been
an initial count of the casualties. Ten are dead. Fourteen remain.
Our tributes take a look at the arena. And now since they are up there, we get a better shot
of the arena, as well.
"Lake looks like the only source of water," Rory says.
"Of course," Crimson sighs. "Well, at least the Careers can't guard the whole thing, right?"
My stomach is sick. They don't know. They don't know something horrible is down in that
lake.
"Yeah. But we still have those two jugs, don't we?" Rory asks. I feel a little better, but the
two water bottles will only keep them alive for so long. I think though, that they can't kill
whoever uses the lake for water. The Games would be over much too fast. That boy
probably died just to give the audience a good thrill, mystify them a bit.
"We should probably look for a place to settle for the night," Crimson decides.
"What about those caves we saw a little farther down?" Rory asks.
Crimson nods her head. "Sure."
They make the brief descent to the cave. They look over their supplies in total with the light
left in the arena. They have flint, but nothing to start a fire with. They were able to pick up
a small loaf of bread, some dried jerky, and nuts. That will keep them alive for two days at
most.
"How are you shooting?" Crimson asks Rory. "Do you think you'll be able to shoot an animal
orsomething?"
"I might not be perfect, but I wouldn't say it's impossible," Rory says. "Our best chance is a
trap I think. I got some wire."
Rory pulls out wire. I smile to myself. He'll be able to do well with that. Probably won't be
able to catch a Career with that, but there has to be some animals here he can get for food.
The anthem comes on and the faces are shown. All of the Careers have made it through,
along with Buck, the boy from Five, the girl from Seven, the boy and girl from Nine, the boy
from Eleven, and Rory and Crimson. All of the rest of the tributes are dead.
"After the anthem is the busiest time for sponsors," Haymitch tells us. "Come on, Peeta, you
come with me to sign. Katniss, stay here and make sure nothing goes wrong."
The Careers split up into two groups and decide to search along the lake in the evening. It
turns out most Careers hold the same strategy every time. Get the goods at the
Cornucopia, hunt at night, rest in the morning. They trust Ten with their supplies while the
rest hike out.
Rory keeps the first watch while Crimson sleeps. He's looking out of the cave, his bow
loaded. He has a hard line down between his eyebrows. But he looks contemplative. I wish I
could send him a reassuring word. But direct messages are prohibited, and we couldn't
spend money on a gift right now. I sigh. I wonder if he's thinking about home, or if he's
concentrating on the Games.
In the night, one Career pack comes across the girl from Seven and the boy from Eleven
and kill them. I turn off the sound then so I don't have to listen when each of them
screams, begging for mercy.
When the Careers meet up again, the other group complains they didn't get to have any
fun. I shudder. Fun. That's what these children think of the Games, of killing. It's all fun.
After this time, of surviving the Games, all of it is even worse to me now. Because I've been
there. I've been scared, and starving, and fighting to survive. I've seen someone I care
about die, and thought I would lose another. I've ended someone's heartbeat. I've been
through pain, physical and emotional, that only this arena could bring.
Yes, children. How fun it all was.
There's a hollow feeling in my heart from this when the sun's rising and Haymitch comes
through the door. He takes out his flask and brings in a drink. More and more I was
beginning to understand him. He's still a disgusting drunk, but I get why. Who knows?
Maybe if I had lost Peeta the way he lost his ally, I would have turned to alcohol, with no
one to understand me,really understand.
I twist the gold band on my ring finger. This is the alternative.
"You good to stay up until Peeta gets back in?" Haymitch asks me.
I nod my head. "Sure. I'm not tired."
Haymitch moves to his bed, takes one last guzzle of his booze, and falls asleep. The arena
is beginning to wake up, except for the Careers who are taking turn as guard. Some sleep,
some wait up. Crimson is rousing Rory for the day. They both look tired although they each
got six hours of sleep. Not ideal, but in comparison to how it could have been, that was a
decent amount.
While the Career pack, Rory and Crimson, and the girl from Nine were able to get their
breakfast from the Cornucopia, the two other tributes are holding their stomachs in hunger.
For them it's been twenty-four hours since they ate. The boy from Five looks under a rock
and finds a worm. He pops it in him mouth, disgust evident on his face.
"Eugh," I shudder. Luckily I never had to resort to that.
Peeta comes back in from signing sponsors about two hours after Haymitch.
"How are they doing?" I ask him.
"They have a few," Peeta smiles at me wearily. I lift my hand and run a thumb under his
eye, noting the purplish shade they are.
"Go to sleep," I tell him. "I can keep watch."
"But Haymitch is sleeping and I don't want you to go through any of this alone," Peeta
objects.
"You two will be right here in the room if I need you," I say. "I'll wake you if anything
happens, Peeta. I promise."
He relents. "Okay."
I give him a kiss, then send him off to bed. I watch for the next three hours, but not much
happens. Some normal Career quarrels happen. Rory and Crimson decide to go down to a
clover patch they found and eat that. I've eaten my fair share of clover in the past. It's
actually pretty good, especially for an eleven-year-old trying to fend for her family. I don't
see why Rory and Crimson would be any more picky.
Rory sets up his traps, which I hope will catch something. Protein will be good for them.
Give them the energy they need. Clover will keep them alive, but meat will give them a
better edge.
Haymitch suddenly appears behind me.
"Okay Katniss, my turn now," he says.
I realize there's no point to protest. I get up and figure since Peeta fell asleep on his own,
he'll probably be taking the whole bed, so I should just break in the third one. Only I look
over and see that Peeta is laying on his side, one arm stretched across the pillow, as if he
had made sure there would be room for me.
I smile to myself and take my place next to my husband.
A/N Thanks to Alia Brown for catching my mistake the first time. Forgive me, this
is my first original Games that I've written!

Because I feel so well-rested when I wake up, I know that I've been out for too long. Peeta
isn't beside me. Surprisingly, though, I hadn't spread myself out across the bed when he
left, either. Huh. I guess I've gotten used to Peeta being there, holding me.
Haymitch isn't here, but Peeta is sitting, watching the screens with a careful expression. I
lift my arms, moaning a little as my back stretches out. Peeta turns when he hears me.
"How long have I been sleeping?" I ask him.
He shrugs. "Couple of hours. I got up about two hours ago."
"I haven't missed anything?"
Peeta shakes his head. "No, not really. I keep glancing over at the lake, though, and I
swear I saw something move the water."
"It could have just been a fish," I say.
"Do you really think it was just a fish?"
I don't answer. Of course it isn't just a fish. Or if whatever is in that water is a fish, it
certainly won't look like any of the ones Gale and I caught in the pond. But at least Rory
and Crimson are awayfor now. If that is the only source of water, though, they won't have
any choice but to go in after it.
"The audience must be getting restless right now," I say. "No fighting or deaths today. It's
about this time they usually drive them together."
Peeta grimaces. "At least they have the bow and arrows, and the knife."
"Against other several well-trained tributes with everything they could possibly want or
need to survive in this arena," I say darkly. I close my eyes and shake my head. It has
become so easy to adopt the feelings Haymitch had before Peeta and I were tributes. But I
can't do that. No matter how impossible this situation may be, I can't let this get to me
already.
"We'll just see what happens," Peeta tells me.
I nod my head and look to the tributes observing the night-time report. Twelve still remain.
Four more and then there will be a flurry of attention on the eight tributes remaining. I can
imagine what a fun time the media will have in District 12 if Rory makes it. The same
people interviewed two years ago interviewed again. I hope Gale will be on his best
behavior. Sometimes I don't think he knows how important it is to go along with them
sometimes, to keep them from attacking you before you're ready for them. But he'll want
Rory to come back. Gale wouldn't jeopardize Rory's safety.
The Careers decide to go out in one big pack tonight and leave Dazzle as guard this time.
The girl from Nine has climbed up the rocks, but is still a distance from Crimson and Rory's
cave, so there isn't much to worry about there. The boy from Five I think had paid attention
two years ago, because he camouflages himself in an area of the bank thick with reeds and
plants. It won't do for day, but at night even with the cameras it's difficult to spot him.
"Do you think whatever is in there will get him?" I ask Peeta.
"He's not in the water exactly," Peeta says. "Maybe it takes breaking the surface to provoke
whatever it is. He's been drinking the water, and the boy from Nine as well."
"But since nothing has happened"
Peeta frowns. "If one of our tributes is going to win, though, the rest of them are going to
have to die."
"I know."
He looks at me sadly and suddenly kisses my forehead.
The Careers get the boy from Nine halfway through the night. He's stabbed to death. As it
happens, I notice a loose string on Peeta's sleeve and break it free so I don't have to watch
another child murdered. He catches my hand as I pull away. He doesn't say anything, he
just looks our entwined hands carefully. We don't let go.
Haymitch comes back in to sleep when dawn is breaking across the third day in the arena.
The Careers come back to the Cornucopia and argue over who has to keep first watch.
When Rory gets up for the day, he suggests they go down to get water.
Crimson holds up her empty canteen. "That sounds like a good idea."
"No," I whisper. Peeta and I look over at each other frantically. I ask, "Do we risk it? Or
should we send them water?"
Peeta turns on our account screen at how much money we have from sponsors, and then
how much water will cost us. He looks at me. "It will cost us most of our money to send
them water, and that won't tie them over for long, anyway."
"Haymitch!" I cry.
He grunts and eventually sits up, "What is it?"
"They're going to the lake," I say. "You saw what happened to the boy the first day. They
can't drink that water! We ought to send them something, but we only just have enough
money for the smallest size."
Haymitch frowns. "Peeta, go check for more sponsors."
Peeta stands up and hurries out the door. We watch Crimson and Rory make their way
down as Haymitch stares at our account screen, as if willing more money to come up. I bite
my lip anxiously. Haymitch is so smart at all of this. Surely he'll be able to find a way to
help them out.
"Hey!" Rory cries happily. "My trap caught a rabbit!"
He hops down a few rocks and takes up the trap. With a twist of the neck, Rory kills the
animal and looks at it proudly. I smile at him, although he can't see me. This is good.
Maybe they'll get sponsors when they see how Rory can keep himself fed.
"We have to cook it or else we might get rabbit fever, though," Rory says. "We need fuel."
"Maybe down at the lake there will be something," Crimson suggests.
"Haymitch," I groan.
"Look, we'll probably never have enough money to send them water whenever they need
it," Haymitch finally decides. "We're just going to have to test it out. Part of this Game is
luck as well as skill, sweetheart."
It's agonizing watching them climb down the rocks, knowing I can't do anything to help
them or warn them. I try to remember that it didn't kill the other two tributes. Maybe the
first one was a fluke.
Crimson begins pulling at the reeds to use to burn. Rory dips the water bottle in the lake
and begins to fill it up. Nothing happens. I'm gripping the armrests, my stomach tied in one
of Gale's knots, sure that the monster will come bursting from the surface and drag Rory
down to drown.
But it doesn't happen. The audience will probably be upset, again. The Gamemakers must
be planning something especially horrible for letting an opportunity like that pass them. My
stomach still feels queasy even though the danger has passed. Nothing goes so well in the
Games for long.
With their kindle and water, Crimson and Rory take the trek back up to their cave. Peeta
comes back in. Sponsors must be slow or not even there. He looks up anxiously at the
screens and lets out a breath. "They're both still alive."
"The lake monster left them alone," I say. "It makes me a little worried."
"Let's just take one victory at a time," Peeta suggests.
Rory and Crimson make a meal of the rabbit Rory caught and some more of the clover.
Their smoke is concealed in the cave where they cook the rabbit, so the Careers aren't able
to see where Crimson and Rory are hiding.
The anthem comes onto the screen, and my eyelids begin drooping, knowing that Rory and
Crimson are safe again.
"You two go to sleep," Haymitch tells me and Peeta. "I can keep watch for the next couple
of hours."
I can't argue that I'd like some sleep, and it seems that Peeta can't, either. We both settle
into bed again, my head resting on Peeta's chest, his breathing and heartbeat welcome and
familiar to me as I enter my dreams.
I know I've been asleep for some time now, but it feels like only a second when I hear the
horrible screeching of a monster. And suddenly, I'm in the arena again, adrenaline shooting
through my veins. Peeta is sitting up and shielding me from the danger with his body, but
then we both wake up enough to look at the screen and see what is really happening to our
tributes.
A/N Sorry this is kind of a short filler chapter that's a cliff hanger...but an update
is an update, right?
"Rory come on!" Crimson shakes him awake as the first rays of light touch on the arena.
She continues frantically, "Grab your stuff! We need to go now!"
He shoots up and gets his things together, scooping them up and following Crimson out of
the cave. Descending from the top of the rocks are rats. Not just any ordinary rat that
Buttercup would kill back home, but giant rats. They make a horrible, high-pitched
screeching sound, which probably alerted Crimson in the first place.
Peeta and I hurry over closer to the screens so we can get a decent look at what is
happening. There are probably around ten or so rats in the pack. The rodents are all a
muddy brown color, with naked tails a good four feet long. Long, sharp teeth hang over
their lips, just waiting to rip the flesh out of the players. Their beady black eyes look thirsty
for blood. My heart pounds in my chest, so loud I'm sure Haymitch and Peeta can hear it.
Our tributes are trying to scramble down the rocks, but those rats are fast for how large
they are. They skitter down, descending closer on Rory and Crimson. They both look back
periodically, seeing how close the rats are to them. Rory and Crimson are able to keep a
lead on them, but they can never lose the rats. Rory stumbles once, making his forearms all
covered in scratches, blood oozing out. Crimson stops and pulls him up. Rory is able to
regain his footing and they go on.
Once on the grass, Crimson turns to Rory as they run and says, "The Cornucopia! Lead
them to the Careers!"
They can move fast now that they don't have to hop down the rocks and try to keep their
footing from falling. But the rodents are faster on flat land, and starting to gain on them as
they sprint to the Cornucopia.
These rats remind me of the mutts in my own Games. My mouth is dry with worry, my
breathing fast even though I'm not the one running away from the monsters. If these rats
catch them, I wonder if their death will be like Cato's. Now I'm feeling queasy as well, and I
flop down into one of the chairs, unable to stand any longer.
Tristan, the Career from Four, is up for watch as the rest of them begin to settle to sleep.
He watches carefully as Crimson and Rory begin flying up the hill.
"Hey," He prods Mar with the end of his shaft. "You want to help me get rid of these two?"
Mar jumps up, thirsty for some killing, when the rats follow behind Crimson and Rory. The
rodents scream out with their prey so close to them.
"I thought you said there were only two!" Mar cries.
"There were," Tristan assures and begins yelling, "Get up! Get up! We have an incoming
now! Come on, idiots!"
The Careers hadn't been sleeping very long, so they are up and getting ready for the
incoming. They jump up right away and grab their weapons of choice. Crimson and Rory
aren't a concern for the Careers right now. They don't want to waste losing a weapon killing
them when they have all of the rodents to fight, and by now the rats are so close it would
do no good to run up and charge at Crimson and Rory, because as soon as they killed them,
the rats would jump on the killer.
Rory and Crimson skirt around the heart of the Career's camp at the Cornucopia, and the
rodents lose their focus on the previous contestants for the larger ones, especially as the
Careers begin attacking the rats.
I can breathe more normally as I see Rory and Crimson continue to run away toward the
hills beyond the Cornucopia. Now all of the ten or so rats are against the six Careers and
Buck.
There's so much going on, it's a terror to bring in it all. Each of the Career pack is fighting
one rat at least. Two of the rats get into their supplies, tearing the bags of food, ripping
open containers of water so that the contents spill out. Avenant cries and turns to take a
plunge at those rats, not realizing the one he had been fighting is only playing dead. The
rodent behind him suddenly lunges and rips its teeth into his neck. Avenant lies there,
gargling out his last breaths as the blood pours out of his throat, seeping into his clothes
and on the ground. One cannon is fired.
Buck has finished off his rat, and he lassos one of the rats off of their supplies. He struggles
with it, but with his sword is eventually able to injure the animal to the point where it can't
fight any longer.
Silvia has been clawed in the chest by one of the rodents and her mace clatters out of her
hand. She turns on her stomach, blood gushing out of the cut on her chest, to try and crawl
to her weapon, but the rat is on her, making it impossible for her to move. It begins
gnawing at her face as she screams out in agony, twisting her face around to try and get
the teeth off of her. Eventually, from blood loss and exhaustion, Silvia stops fighting,
struggles to breath, as the rat continues to gnaw on her until Dazzle is able to kill the rat.
Dazzle looks Silvia over, but turns away as she draws her final breaths. The second cannon
goes off.
Felly, the last tribute from Two, has two rats gang up on her. Unable to do much, she falls
victim to the rats as well, which are climbing over each other to chew on her. And then the
cannon fires.
With about four of the rats remaining, they scurry away from the scene, whimpering as they
go from the wounds they had gotten. Blood and hair and scraps of fabric are covering the
ground from the fight. Crumbs and moisture are littered all over. The rats had been able to
do a thorough job of trashing the Career's camp so that no water and very little food are
salvageable. Even the sack of apples were smashed by the rat's feet.
Buck begins picking up strips of dried meat that is dirty, but food nonetheless. Dazzle, Mar,
and Tristan follow suit, each tribute frantically trying to gather whatever is left, which isn't
too much.
"Hey!" Dazzle cries as he and Mar go for the same apple, the only one that survived the
smashing by the rats. "That's mine!"
Mar snatches it away from Dazzle, bearing her teeth and growling at him. Mar makes a jab
for Dazzle with her knife, but he moves so it cuts his upper left arm. Buck takes a look at
the two fighting Careers, finishes stuffing everything in his pack, and bolts toward the lake.
Tristan, seeing Buck leaves, moves away, too, but on the opposite direction of the rocks.
Mar and Dazzle, however, stay to fight it out. When Dazzle gets his sword to pierce the
lower left side of Mar, she gasps and makes a run for it, too, and follows Buck to the lake.
She holds her side, where blood is soaking her shirt. Dazzle lets her go, and stays at the
Cornucopia, continuing to search for anything useful. I guess he figures she'll be weak from
that wound and he might as well take advantage of being the only one left.
And so now Crimson and Rory are the only ones in an alliance. I look over at Peeta, who is
counting on his fingers. He looks at me, "There's eight of them left."
"Maybe they can make it now," I say hopefully. "With the Careers having limited food and
water supply, and then how they've broken up. Maybe one of them can do it."
Peeta gives my hand a squeeze and smiles at me carefully.
"Maybe," Haymitch allows. "I'll see if this has changed anything for sponsors."
Haymitch stands and leaves the room. I feel my body completely relaxing now for a
moment and I slump back into my chair.
Rory and Crimson had stopped on top of a hill some ways from the Cornucopia and watched
what happened from a distance. They're resting, drinking water and sitting down among the
grass and clover of the hill.
"Good thinking with going toward the Careers," Rory says.
Crimson shrugs. "It's like what Katniss said. Destroy their food supply, and they'll have to
suffer like the rest of us. That's how Katniss and Peeta won."
Well, it is nice to know she paid attention to what we told her. Rory's stomach begins to
rumble, echoing its emptiness. With the excitement of the morning, they hadn't the time to
get breakfast.
Crimson laughs. "Sounds like we should get something to eat."
"Yeah," Rory smiles back and they dig into their packs for the little bit of leftover rabbit.
They eat that and some of the surrounding clover.
"Ugh," Crimson says. "If I never have to eat clover after this, I'll be very happy."
"I think it's good," Rory says as he nibbles on one of the stems. "And who knows? Maybe
eating it will give us good luck."
"Have you eaten any four-leaf clovers?" Crimson asks. "Because those are the only ones
that really give you luck. Three-leaf clovers are just ordinary."
"They should all have some amount of luck to them," Rory replies. "But I'll keep any eye out
for some now."
Crimson and Rory continue to munch on their breakfast. When they're done, though, Rory
keeps on searching through the hill among the clover. As he sifts among the thousands of
clover, I can't help but think of how perfectly innocent he is. He's still seen so much horror
with Thread and living in the Seam, yet he can still believe a simple four-leaf clover will
bring them luck. He believes that he can find one.
With the new shift in the Games, our account screen shows money increasing at a rate we
haven't seen yet. Haymitch pops his head in and says, "Katniss, the press wants a comment
from you."
"From me? But why?" I ask in distress.
"Katniss, that is the stupidest question you have ever asked," Haymitch says to me. "Now
come on!"
I stand. Peeta has to stay here to observe what's going on with the Games. He gives me an
encouraging smile and I try to hold onto as I leave the room for the first time. Media is
flocking outside of District Four's door where Finnick Odair stands with his careless smirk,
winning over sponsors for his tributes.
And this lights a fire under me.
I may not be stunningly pretty like Finnick is, but the people love me, too. I'm the girl on
fire, one half of the star-crossed lovers. And I'll get them to love Rory and Crimson, too.
When the press spots me coming out with Haymitch, the ones who aren't mesmerized by
Finnick come hurrying to me. I realize that also as this is my first time out of the control
room, everyone is all the more anxious for me.
"Katniss! Katniss!" They all call out at me.
"How do you feel about both of your tributes making the final eight?"
"I've never been happier as a mentor," I say. "It's amazing to have one tribute make it in,
but for both it's absolutely astounding."
"Who do you think is their biggest competition?"
"Oh, whatever is in that lake," I say.
This gets a lot of cries of people asking questions so I can't understand one of them. My
eyes grow wide with all of the excitement that had suddenly burst from my short, simple
statement.
"If I could just end this with one thing," I say. It quiets and people listen to me intently.
"Rory and Crimson and the only ones left in an alliance, and they will be working as a team
for as long as they can. Teamwork gets you farther. I know. It's how I won my Games. And
so no one ought think Rory and Crimson should be overlooked. Because one of them will
win these Games."
They shout more questions out at me, but I ignore them and turn back into the control
room.
A/N "But Westley, what about the R.O.U.S's?"
"Rodents of unusual size? I don't think they exist."
Thanks Princess Bride for the inspiration.
The next day is a rest for the tributes. But I am only restless. Eight, we're at the final eight.
And only four days in. These have been some of the quickest Games I can remember. I
wouldn't be surprised if in a few days we had a winner. The thought of that makes me sick.
One of our tributes could be home by the end of the week. Or, they could both be dead. But
one thing was for sure: there was no way that both tributes would get out alive. Not after
what happened with me and Peeta.
The Careers are showered with gifts to heal and recuperate. Rory and Crimson get a good
deal more sponsors, but we have yet to give them anything since they're living off of clover
and the rabbits they catch in the snares. We've no need to send them anything yet, and
saving the money could come in handy later on, especially when injuries are sure to be
more numerous.
After the one resting day, Tristan comes across the boy from Five and kills him off easily.
I'm glad at least she wasn't gruesome about it. Last year a tribute had a ritual of cutting off
all of the fingers and toes of his victims before the final kill. At least the tributes this year
always make it a clean kill.
Dazzle has all of his supplies together and goes out during the day, hunting down (or at
least attempting to hunt down) the rest of the players. But he comes back to the
Cornucopia at night.
The girl from Nine is just barely surviving, with the one knife she managed to swipe in the
beginning of the Games. Despite her large frame, for some reason I don't find her as much
of a threat to any of the others.
Rory and Crimson get most of the air time now, because the other tributes aren't doing
much of anything at all. The Careers and Buck are all hunting, but not lucking out in
meeting any of the other tributes. The rest of the time, they're starving, which is the most
dull thing that could happen in the Games to the Capitol audience.
But Rory and Crimson talk, like friends. They joke around, talk seriously about the situation
they're in, and in comparison to the rest of what's going on, are by far the most
entertaining two out there. Which isn't too bad for the sponsors, either. Tributes getting
more airtime usually are the ones that more sponsors want. This infuriates Gloss, one of
District One's mentors. However Finnick seems to keep a cool head about it, which does
annoy me slightly.
Finally, one night as Crimson takes guard over the cave she and Rory have re-inhabited,
Dazzle is out again, looking for someone to kill. The feeling of being back in that arena
begins to haunt over me. Maybe it's the dark, or the fact that Peeta is sleeping and
Haymitch is out signing for sponsors, so I feel utterly alone as I sit and watch him make his
way down the bank of water.
Then, I notice in one of the camera shots that there is someone in the reeds. That girl from
Nine. Her eyes shine in the moonlight somehow, and my heart pounds as I realize her gaze
is fixed on Dazzle.
And then, without even a cry of attack, she is throttling Dazzle's neck from behind, choking
him as she stabs him in his back and midriff multiple times, over and over, the blood
gushing from him.
Finally, when his body slumps and is too heavy for her to continue holding, she lets him go
on the ground. Blood is smudged all over her face and body. She pants and smiles to herself
as she watches Dazzle take in his last few breaths. Then, all is still, and the cannon fires.
I don't know why this death is causing me so much difficulty to watch. There have been
deaths just as horrible as this one, now. There have been tributes far more noble and
innocent than a Career die. But maybe it's also realizing that despite our best efforts, Rory
and Crimson do not have a chance to win if someone like Dazzle didn't.
I hear Peeta stir and look behind me to see him sit up. He yawns and stretches, then stands
up. He catches me looking at him and he asks, "Anything happen while I was asleep?"
"The girl from Nine killed Dazzle," I answer, devoid of emotion in my tone. After all, why
should I let Peeta know seeing him get murdered frightened me so much? It doesn't make
sense, not really.
"Six more left," Peeta whispers. He's beside me, lightly brushing the hair out of my face. I
wish he wouldn't. I'm worried my mask is going to crack and my hair is back-up in case of
that occurring.
"You didn't eat your dinner," Peeta looks over at the stew that has been sitting there for the
past few hours. It wasn't the lamb stew I liked so much, although still delicious of course.
But I couldn't swallow a bite of it tonight.
"It's too cold to eat now," I reply in case he would insist on me eating it.
He nods his head and sits down next to me. I lower my gaze from him. But his hands find
their way into mine. They're warm against my cold skin, and I shiver from the touch. He
doesn't say anything to me. He doesn't have to.
When the sun breaks across the sky in the arena, Rory and Crimson take their breakfast
silently. They know that someone was killed last night. Crimson had heard the cannon and
told Rory about it.
Once they finish off some last bits of rabbit, they're still quiet for a long time. The heaviness
of the nearing of the end is pressing down on all of us, especially Rory and Crimson.
Finally, Crimson speaks up. "I think we need to end this alliance now, Rory."
"I waskind of thinking the same thing," Rory admits. "I don't think any of them thought
that we'd both make it this far. But now would be a good time to stop it."
"Good," Crimson breathes out. "Because I don't want to be the one that has to kill you. And
with the pool getting smaller and smaller, it worries me that it might happen."
"Hopefully, being on our own, it won't," Rory agrees.
Then they divide up the supplies between them. Crimson insists Rory take the wire for the
traps, since she doesn't really know how to use it anyway. In turn, he gives her the little bit
of extra water they had.
By midmorning, they've finished up everything and have agreed that they'll both leave the
cave, in fairness to the other person. I'm amazed how even in the Games, they're both
socordial to each other. The past few days it even seemed as if they were almost friends.
Or as close as anyone could be as friends in the arena. As if they were just back in the
Seam and not in the Hunger Games. I don't think I've seen anything like this before.
But with the end of their alliance, I know with a certainty now that the entire end of these
Games are coming closer. And with that, the death of at least one, and probably even both,
of our tributes. I tell Peeta and Haymitch that I want to sleep, but I end up just curling on
the bed and closing my eyes.
"Snow's trying to crack that girl," Haymitch says to Peeta after an hour of my supposed
"sleeping".
"What do you mean?" Peeta asks.
"Oh, come on," Haymitch says. "Always attacking her family and the people she loves,
threatening her, making her watch a boy who's as good as her brother go into the Games.
Peeta, you'll come to learn the President doesn't want to kill his victors. He wants them
under his thumb, to manipulate them to do what he wants. He knows that you'll do what
Katniss wants, and so breaking that girl into his ways will guarantee both of you do. Less
messy that way, and less effort. But I wouldn't be expecting any of your loved ones to be
safe, either."
"Katniss is stronger than you give her credit for," Peeta says.
"I'm not the one making goo-goo eyes are her all of the time," Haymitch points out. Then
he allows, "You're right that Katniss is strong. But she's human. And even just mentoring is
going to mess us all up."
Even though I can't see him, I can feel that rebel side of Peeta rising in him, although he
doesn't say anything more and the conversation drops. That hope he has that we won't
have to continue this. But still, even once was enough for me as a tribute, last year was
awful, and this year is even worse. Haymitch was right. The Capitol is trying to break me
with this. Will I be strong enough to fight it though?
"I'll go see if there are any more sponsors biting now that they're on their own," Haymitch
says and excuses himself.
I hear the door click closed and its quiet, except for the background noise from the arena.
Then I hear Peeta's heavy tread on the floor. If I had been asleep, it probably would have
woken me. I feel him sit down on the bed, my position slanting a little. He kisses me on the
forehead and the whispers in my ear, "I know you aren't asleep, you know. After all this
time, I can tell when you're asleep."
I sigh and my eyelids flutter open.
"He's not wrong," I tell him. "None of us are strong enough to overcome what they put us
through."
Peeta drops his gaze from mine, his finger tracing the back of my hand. "Maybe, alone," he
allows, but then he entwines our hands and leans in to whisper, "But together we'll be okay.
All of us."
Of everything Peeta is, his purity and innocence amazes me the most. How he thinks that
somehow, the Districts will be able to defeat the Capitol. I'm the one who feels suppressed
by them. I reach up and kiss his lips lightly.
"Now," he says when we move away, "Let's just try to get through the next few days,
okay?"
I nod my head. "Okay."
A/N This is shorter than I'd intended it, but it seemed to end nicely here. Anyway,
the long wait for this update is because of moving and computer troubles. But I've
started college, so hopefully I'll be able to keep up frequent updates, but if not,
I've not forgotten about this fic, I'm just going to be super busy. It isn't summer
anymore, unfortunately.

The next day, disaster hits.
There's a storm. It happens suddenly. The day had been perfectly bright before. Rory had
even just discovered a four-leaf clover. He grinned foolishly big at that one. All in all, I'd felt
as peaceful as I could be under the present situation when the angry, dark clouds came
rolling in.
The storm is a strong one, more forceful than any I'd ever experienced, certainly. It moves
on and off between hail and hard sheets of rain pelting on the contestants, so thick it's
difficult to see. Lightning strikes, but all in strategic places. After all, these are the Games,
controlled by man and not nature. The Gamemakers are trying to drive the tributes together
to fight. Somehow, I know someone will die today. Maybe Crimson or Rory, even.
With the lightning striking on the side opposite of the rocks, it's no surprise the tributes
begin tripping through the mud and sleet to get there.
The girl from Nine instead heads into the Cornucopia, hiding in there as Foxface had in our
Games. It's a tight squeeze for her, since she's much bigger than Foxface had been. I recall
something my father taught me in the woods. Lightning is drawn to tall objects and metal.
If a lightning storm should arise when we were out, we were to keep away from tall objects
as much as we could, and if it was really close, fall to the ground. And anything metal, like
the wire used to snare animals, was to be left alone.
I presume Nine had no such instruction before coming here. The Cornucopia is made of
metal and then there's also the fact it's higher than anything else in the arena but the rocks
makes it a target.
When lightning strikes the Cornucopia, I am far from surprised, but I wonder if the
audience, bred in the lap of luxury, knows any of this. There's a bright light, an electric jolt,
and Nine's dead body slides down onto the muddy ground below. The cannon fires, and five
tributes are left to fight it out.
Rory's made it up to the cave he and Crimson shared earlier. He shivers in his wet clothes,
and I think of how worn he looks. There's purple bags under his eyes. He hasn't been
sleeping as well since his alliance with Crimson broke. There was no one to protect him
now. He was alone. I frown.
"Can't we send him something?" I ask Haymitch desperately.
Haymitch looks doubtful, "I don't know."
"We should," Peeta encourages. "He needs a lift of his spirits to help get him through. If he
thinks people are supporting him, he'll have more hope for the future. Believe me, I know."
I think back a little guiltily to how I had gotten all of the gifts before we aligned with each
other. And I remember finally getting that stew, and the lift it gave us. Rory hasn't gotten
anything. Something now would help him.
Peeta and I haggle Haymitch into some wood and kindle for a fire. But Haymitch puts his
foot down when we want to add a blanket in there as well, because we really don't have
that much money. And so we agree and buy the wood for him.
The parachute drops in front of the cave. Rory sits up straight and his face lights up when
he sees the silver material falling down. He jumps up and retrieves it from the rain. Luckily,
they put protective covering over the wood so it didn't get damp and he can use it.
Now I take a look around at where the other tributes are hiding out. Mar and Tristan are
both farther down from Rory, separated, of course. Mar clings to the bottom rocks, while
Tristan pushes up higher.
Crimson is on the opposite side of them, but I know where she's going. She's climbing over
and up to the cave where Rory sits, trying to get the fire started. Somehow, when she
reaches the cave, I don't think that she'll kill Rory, or that he'll kill her. They'll weather the
storm together and then part again as they did earlier. They don't want to murder the
other. Somehow, strangely, I take comfort in this. That somehow, they'll be more than a
piece in these Games.
But then my eyes start to search for Buck. With his large stature, it doesn't take long for me
to locate him. My stomach hurls forward when I see Buck is climbing up, noticing the warm
glow against the rock.
Maybe if we hadn't sent Rory the wood, he would have passed over the cave. Maybe he
would have ignored it, climbed higher. Or maybe he would have stood at the mouth of the
entrance anyway, peeping in as Rory concentrates on feeding the flames more and warming
his hands against them.
His hands grab a hold of his lasso. No. No. Rory look up! Look up Rory! He's going to kill
you! He's going to rope you in like one of his cows and kill you! I urge him to notice, stand
up and get his bow and arrow, lying just out of reach.
Buck has the lasso and swings it above his head, the releases. Rory hears this and looks up,
startled, but it's too late and the rope has him around his waist. Buck begins pulling him in.
Rory fights it, digging his heels in the ground, the rope tightening against his body.
Rory loses his footing. He makes a reach for this weapon, but it's too far gone from him. My
hands are clutched in fists and I bite down on my cheek until there's blood. Please, not
Rory, please. But watching him lose inch after inch of ground, the horrible truth that I'm
going to watch Rory die is finally settling on me. That his hand will become lifeless, his
mouth will stop smiling, his veins still and calm. Dead. Gone.
I'm trying to grasp this, so my eyes have only been trained on the screen that has Rory and
Buck's struggle going on. When there's a pair of hands grabbing at Buck's hair and yanking
him back.
Crimson.
She has a knife, and she stabs Buck in the shoulder. He lets go of the rope and twists
Crimson off of his back so she's lying in the ground in front of him. I have to struggle to
keep the vomit in my mouth as I remember the same feeling of having Clove standing over
me.
But Buck does not make speeches like Clove. He realizes that Rory is now up and running
for his bow and arrows. Buck plunges his knife in Crimson's gut. She screams out in agony,
piercingly high. It causes my heart to feel as if it had been stabbed as well.
Rory is now at his sheath. With a surprisingly steady hand, he strings an arrow in the bow
and sends it straight into Buck's heart. He drops down, struggling to stay alive, but Rory
ignores him and instead rushes to his rescuer's aid.
Tears come into my eyes. Why did we have them become allies? Why? Allies should never
be made in the Hunger Games. This is what happens. Haymitch's ally died. Rue died. And
from the blood soaking through Crimson's shirt, I know that she is going to die as well. She
shakes from the cold, from the loss of blood. Her face is white.
"The fire's warm," Rory tells her, and picks her up, carrying her closer to the flames. She
groans and holds her stomach, her hands becoming sticky.
He sets her down gently so she's leaning up against the rocks. Rory sits beside her, taking
one of her bloody hands into hers. They're silent as the hovercraft comes and picks up
Buck's body.
"Why did you do that?" Rory asks her.
"I don't know," Crimson tells him. "Because you're my ally?"
Rory bends his head down, covering his face with his free hand. "We broke that off. You
didn't have to do this for me."
"Okay, then," Crimson says, gasping for air. "Because you're my friend."
The guilt is evident on Rory's face, now that he's peeking through his hand to look her in
the eyes.
"Maybe our mentors can send us something," Rory says hopefully. "They gave me the wood
tonight. We have sponsors. I mean, Katniss found Peeta, and he was almostalmost"
But he can't say it. Almost dead. Peeta had been almost dead. And now, Crimson was
almost dead. But I could heal Peeta. Unless we sent a doctor, Crimson would not recover
from this wound.
He skips that and finishes, "And obviously everything ended up okay there."
"There's only going to be one victor this year Rory," Crimson reminds him gently,
comforting him even though she is the one that only has minutes left. "It's too late for me.
You need to win now. Promise me you'll win."
Rory looks up into her eyes and nods. "I will. I'll win." Then, he draws something out of his
pocket. The four-leaf clover he'd found just before the storm drove him up into this cave, to
be lassoed by Buck and saved by Crimson.
"Here," he presents it to her. "I found a four-leaf clover for you."
"It won't be much use to me," Crimson answers. "You keep it. You're the one that needs the
luck now."
Rory nods his head and looks down, the clover twirling around in his fingers. Four leaves. A
rarity. Good luck. The one piece of luck this day has brought to any of us.
Crimson attempts a smile, but tears start sliding down her cheeks. Her speaking is more
difficult now, as she's losing her flame and her breathing gets more and more shallow.
"Rory, cancan you pretend to be Pine for a little bit? I want to say good-bye to him, but I
can'tI can't do it alone. I know he'll hear me though."
Rory nods his head earnestly.
She looks into his eyes and begins, "Pine, do you remember when we were little and we
played hide-and-go-seek? Do you remember that one time I hid so well you thought that I
was gone forever? You started to cry. But I wasn't gone. You just had to look harder to find
me. It took you three hours, but you finally discovered me in that bush. Pine" Crimson is
down to her final breaths now. "You just have to look for me."
Crimson's eyelids flutter to a close and she draws in her last breath. Among the lightening,
there is a cannon that goes off, distinct to those listening for it. Emptiness. That's what I
feel now, hearing that Crimson's young life has ended. Emptiness.
Rory picks her up again and takes her out to the entrance of the cave.
Carefully, he sets her down. The hail and sleet is gone. Just drizzle is coating the arena
now, the storm having done its job of cause the deaths of three of the tributes. Rory steps
back, but waits for the hovercraft, standing near her body, perhaps so if anything came like
the rodents to destroy it, he would be able to protect her.
The hovercraft materializes and takes Crimson's body away. Beside me, Peeta's making a
movement. I turn to look at him. He's giving her the sign of the final good-bye. Tears are in
his eyes, pain ebbing over.
My right arm crosses my body so I can take his right hand in mine. Then with my left, I give
Crimson the sign as well. Our first tribute, gone.
A/N You guys knew one of them had to die. I'm sorry, but...there just can't be two
winners again. :(

We each react in our own way to Crimson's death. Haymitch, to no one's surprise, cracks
open a fresh bottle of whiskey and goes into his drunken state. Peeta attempts at keeping
busy, signing sponsors, pacing the room, trying to talk to me. His method is to stay
distracted, although in his eyes I can see flashes of pain he pushes down, but that surface
anyway. I take a nap, smothering this aching with unconsciousness. It doesn't last very
long, though, because Peeta ends up having to wake me up after I scream bloody murder.
Rory stays curled by the fire, which slowly dies down. He juststares at it. His eyes blank,
his mouth in a frown, shivering from the cold. Not really reacting to anything around him.
It hasn't even been a day, and Claudius Templesmith calls for a feast at the Cornucopia at
noon the next day. They have to drive the final trio together somehow, and Mar and Tristan
aren't doing well on their own, without the supplies that had been destroyed. They'll be
going for sure. And even if there is a feast they could both share easily, they'll fight anyway.
They wouldn't let their competition escape when it's so close to the end.
Rory doesn't even react to the announcement. He finishes up his last bit of rabbit and sets
up another set of snares outside, gathers some more clover, but eating it painfully.
Mar heads out for the Cornucopia as soon as it's announced. Tristan takes more time,
getting more water and being farther away of the two, has a longer hike anyway.
It's nighttime when Tristan gets to the Cornucopia. There is essentially nowhere to hide
around it, though. And Mar is waiting. They approach each other cautiously.
"See you got a little wounded there Mar," Tristan taunts.
She scowls at him. "You don't look so great yourself."
Tristan did get a bite on his arm from one of the rats that's cracking with dried blood, but
Mar had a cut along her lower abdomen as well. Endurance may very well be the deciding
factor in who wins between them.
"Hey, I always beat you in training, didn't I?" Tristan rebuts, making Mar upset. She raises
her sword and makes it slash toward her district partner. He only has to step back to avoid
it.
Tristan has his spear and shield, while Mar has her sword. They move and fight as any two
tributes have ever done in the Games. One will gain ground over the other, but then the
fierce determination they have to win overcomes that, and they get on equal footing again.
Tristan has the disadvantage of the spear, but the superior skills. If it weren't for the shield
he would probably be dead, but he is constantly able to block off Mar's blows. Mar is
extremely cautious, knowing that she does not have anything to deviate Tristan's jabs of
the spear but her sword. So she never gets too close to him, and oftentimes has to change
an offensive move into a defensive one.
Three exhausting hours pass, but they're still determinedly going at it. That's when the
deciding move in their fight plays out. With one big whack Mar's sword cuts off the top of
Tristan's spear. A newfound vigor comes across Mar's face as she realizes now she's the
only one with the weapon. Tristan's face registers a moment of panic, but then his
expression takes on a gritty resolve. He loses ground as Mar pushes him back with her
sword. But when the moment comes up, he swings his shield up and smashes it against
Mar's face.
Mar falls backward, not rousing at all. But there is no shot to indicate her death. And so
Tristan takes her sword and pierces her straight in the heart. Then the cannon fires.
Rory is one of the last two tributes.
I find my hand gripping Peeta's tightly. We both look at each other. To be honest, neither of
us thought we'd ever get here, with one tribute left to fight. Even though we'd both done
the best we could to ensure it, I didn't understand how it happened.
"How is Rory going to kill Tristan?" I finally ask.
Peeta frowns. "I don't know."
If Peeta can't give me any comforting words right now, then, I suppose it's over. I feel my
chest sinking in. But my heart still won't let go of the sliver of hope that somehow, in some
way, Rory will win.
The night is a time for people to place their final bets and funnel in the last bit of money
toward their tribute. Tristan is highly favored among those who use the Games as a gamble.
Not only is Tristan a well-trained Career, but he isn't letting the death of his district partner
get to him. Rory is going through the motions, skinning a rabbit, cooking it, eating it, but
anyone can see his eyes are empty. It's as if he has no fight in him left.
Quietly, I remember this tall young man as a small child. Hazelle wouldn't let him go into
the woods yet, at least not far, even with Gale and me. He was allowed in a little ways, but
when the fence was out of sight, he was not supposed to go any farther. He hated being left
behind, and after the expeditions Gale and I went on, would beg us to tell him something
exciting that happened. The one story that always got to him was the one I told Peeta in the
Training Center, the one where I challenged a bear to a hive of honey.
"How did you do it?" Rory asked me over and over. "How did you beat that bear? It's so
much bigger and stronger than you!"
"That isn't everything," I told him every time. "The fact that I got the honey is proof of
that."
The honey
"I think we should spend the last of the sponsor's money," I say suddenly.
"What?" Haymitch asks gruffly. Peeta is signing sponsors and talking to reports for us, since
he is obviously the most suited for the job.
"Look, there's only two left. We both know Rory needs something," I explain. "Send him a
pot of honey."
"Honey?" Haymitch looks at me like I'm crazy.
"Trust me," I say. "Rory needs honey right now."
Haymitch squints at me, but eventually turns to the panel and punches in the job. Within
seconds, a silver parachutes floats down and lands with a clatter outside of the cave Rory's
holed up in. He wakes up at the sound, jumping up alert. Then his face takes on the hint of
a smile. Rory eagerly goes over to see what he's gotten. He twists open the jar, looks
inside, smelling. Then he dips his finger in, pulls it out, and the amber liquid dribbles off. He
scrunches his eyebrows together, then grins as he gets it.
But the honey does the trick. Rory seems to be back on his game. He counts his arrows. He
only lost one by killing Buck and forgetting to retrieve it before the body was taken away.
Eleven are left. More than I had. Of course, he isn't as good of a shot, so he'll need more
than I did. He finishes eating, savoring the honey we gave him.
But the audience is getting over their betting. The feast occursa handful of crackers the
only rewardthat Tristan gets to partake in alone. Now it's time for the end. Everyone is
ready for their climax. School will be let out early today. Prim, Vick, and Posy will all hurry
over to my family's house where my mother, Hazelle, and Gale will be waiting. Hazelle will
find comfort in my mother, who has been through this same thing before. Prim will help
soothe Posy. Vick will be pacing around the room. But Gale? I know my best friend. I can
imagine him sitting perfectly still, watching the TV with intensity now that Rory is so close. I
hope I haven't let him down.
Peeta comes back inside. Whatever money's in, that's all anyone will be getting now.
Sponsors don't exist at all the last day as they all wait anxiously to see the results.
Rory seems to know that he has to meet his fate soon. He finishes up the last of his food
and packs up, then heads down. No sense in letting the Gamemakers chase you out, after
all. Better just to face the inevitable anyway.
Rory does not go to the Cornucopia. Rather, he heads to the lake, where Tristan will have to
come to eventually to get water. He perches himself on the rocks above the lake and waits
hidden there, arrow in his bow, ready to fire. Tristan stays at the Cornucopia, maybe
thinking that's where Rory would be going anyway. He waits the night there. My eyelids
grow heavy and I end up falling asleep against Peeta's shoulder, still sitting up in the control
chair. But I haven't slept in so long, and nothing is happening. I don't know how Rory can
stay awake. But, yes, I do. Didn't I do the same thing when Peeta was injured? When Cato
was being torn apart by the mutts? The Games force your body to do things you would
never expect to be able to do.
When I wake up, it's dawn. Tristan's canteen is empty. He sighs and makes the journey
back to the lake.
Rory looks exhausted from crouching all night, bow at the ready, waiting. But when he sees
Tristan's figure coming, he straightens a little and positions his bow.
As Tristan bends down to fill his water, an arrow whizzes right by his head. His shield goes
up immediately against the direction the arrow came at. Then, just like a Career, Tristan
surges forward, determined to meet his remaining competitor and take him out. He climbs
up the rocks, searching for where the shooter is.
Rory is a level higher than Tristan goes, and when their paths cross, Rory shoots an arrow
at Tristan. He doesn't get his target; rather, it hits Tristan's forearm, and now he has given
away his location. Tristan looks up furiously and with his shield in front of him, begins the
climb up. Rory ducks behind his boulder, making a dash to simply get away from Tristan. I
can't say I blame him. It's natural instinct to run. Only Rory doesn't have anywhere safe to
run to. Tristan only follows him. Rory can't run and shoot, he isn't that good, even if Tristan
didn't have his shield up protecting him.
Rory heads for the lake again, but once on flat ground, Tristan catches up to him. My grip
around Peeta's arm tightens. He looks down at me with worry. So far, this isn't going well at
all.
Tristan shoves Rory down with his shield. Rory falls on the ground, his bow falling out of his
hands. Rory reaches for it, but Tristan smashes his foot down on Rory's hand so that it
crunches. Rory screams out in pain, cradling his hand. Tristan kicks the bow so that it
splatters into the lake.
"Well," Tristan stands over Rory. "Any last words, District 12?"
Rory just stares at him with wide eyes. I let out a strangled cry and throw my hands over
my mouth to try and keep from sobbing. Right away Peeta's arms are around me, but I still
cannot take my eyes off of the screen.
But then the surface of the lake breaks. And a long, slimy worm comes out and grabs
Tristan's ankle, pulling him down onto his back and into the water. My breath stops. No. Did
that just really? Rory looks like he can't believe it either, but gets it together enough to
scramble away, still holding his hand to his chest.
Tristan comes sputtering up to the surface in the middle of the lake. Being from District 4,
he's an excellent swimmer. But I'm sure even the best swimmer in District 4 wouldn't be
any match against what rises from the lake.
It has a long, slender neck and a reptilian-like face, only it looks squishy. The body is a
mystery as it remains in the murky depths, but there are more long worms that grabbed
Tristan into the water. They are actually something similar to what I remember eating on
the Victory Tour in District 4. They called it octopus tentacles.
The monster mutt opens its mouth in a roar, flaunting the two sharp teeth on the front.
What ensues is similar to what the mutts did to Cato. The water mutt teases Tristan, letting
him swim, only to scoop him back, keeping him underwater for a long time, letting him
come back up for breath. Tearing at his skin until the water around him darkens with his
blood. Hours this goes on. Rory sits far from the bank, the sword, bow, and arrows all by his
side. He tries to look away from the water, but the cries coming from Tristan are impossible
to block out.
I look up at Peeta and in his eyes I see the memory, too. Of clinging to each other while we
listened to the last moment of Cato's life. I shut my eyes tightly, trying to repel the
memory, but it doesn't work. I know I can push it out of my mind for a little while, but the
memory will never fade.
If Rory's hand weren't broken, and if he were a better shot, he might be able to end this by
sending an arrow into Tristan's skull as I did for Cato. But he can't do it. The sun is fading
from the arena when the sea mutt seems to be bored and lets Tristan go.
It takes Tristan longer than it should to pull him up to shore. He has long cuts from the sea
mutt's teeth all over his body; some only an inch long; others, two or three feet. His clothes
are shredded and he's bleeding terribly.
Rory stands when he sees Tristan's broken form make it to shore. He picks up the sword
with his good hand and walks over. Tristan looks up tiredly at Rory, and seems to finally
accept his defeat. With a sympathetic look, Rory winces as he grips the sword with both
hands and swings it down, taking off Tristan's head.
Trumpets blare. Claudius Templesmith's voice booms, "Ladies and gentlemen, may I
present the winner of the Seventy-Sixth Hunger Games, Rory Hawthorne!"
Cheers erupt, and Rory stands in a daze of everything happening. The hovercraft appears to
take him away, and he steps on the ladder, getting dragged up.
I stand and begin pacing. Rory is alive. He won. He won the Hunger Games. He's not going
to die because of me. I feel like crying.
When I see Peeta standing there, smiling at me, I impulsively fling myself into his arms,
laughing and crying at the same time. Either he wasn't expecting me, or I was too forceful,
but I knock us both over and onto the bed. I don't get off of him, though. In fact, I kiss him.
It starts off as any other kiss, but something about right now has left me open and
unguarded. I find that I don't just like Peeta's lips against mine, I want it. And when he tries
once to move away, I don't let him. I catch his lips back, demanding he keep his attention
on us.
Haymitch coughs loudly. I ignore him, and Peeta does, too, his fingers exploring my hair.
"You know we just got a victor, don't you?" Haymitch asks us, irritated.
Finally, Peeta and I break from each other. I can't stop smiling. Haymitch rolls his eyes at
us. "Come on, we gotta go talk to the press."
For the first time this trip, I find I don't mind as much.
A/N I got bored a few days ago and made a banner for I Do. Link's in my profile if
you're interested. Not very good, but anyway. Just letting you know it's there. :)
The days ahead leave no break for any of us mentors. Rory is recovering in the hospital,
getting treated for his hand and a few scrapes, then of course giving his skin new life and
erasing old scars. Building his weight back up little by little and making sure everything is
fine. I stop and consider that they don't once observe how he is doing emotionally or
mentally. Their only concern is that his body becomes a perfect symbol of their victor.
Haymitch, Peeta, and I have to deal with the doctors, with the celebration that's being
planned back at home, with reporters, and other social engagements. The days leave us
exhausted, so that by the end all Peeta and I are able to do is crawl into the sheets and
sleep until the Avoxes come to get us again.
Five days after the Games are over, the doctors inform us that we're to meet Rory now that
he's well enough. Peeta teases me that he'd never expect to see me bounce. I slap him
playfully, but I am incredibly happy that Rory's safe, and that I'll be able to know for myself
he's safe once more.
The three of us wait in the Training Center for Rory to come back. Morta's come as well, and
brought Julietta and the other three members of Rory's prep team. They're only here
because tonight is the big recap and Rory has to be fully made-over again. As soon as the
elevator dings and the doors open, I tear from Peeta's side and hug Rory close. He hugs me
back a little awkwardly, his eyes shifting all around the room. I move away so Peeta and
Haymitch can take their turn, but something about Rory's closed manner results in them
only shaking his hand. Morta doesn't even bother to make any recognition that Rory's just
survived the Games. Julietta takes him away to redo him, talking about how much his hair
has grown.
The whole thing unsettles me.
"I'll go order some lunch," Peeta says, leaving the room.
"What's the matter with him?" I ask Haymitch.
"I think you'd know as well as anyone," He replies. "Only you can't quite understand him,
because you got to keep Peeta."
"I lost Rue," I mutter.
"But she didn't sacrifice herself for you," Haymitch explains. "You were her protector, not
the other way around. And you've only had to face her family once. You won't have to see
them constantly like Rory will."
I think for a moment. "Is that what happened to you, Haymitch?"
"Shedidn't die saving my life," Haymitch explains painfully. "Although she did save my life,
more than once. She had a twin sister, too. Going home wasn't easy. And at fourteen, I can
only imagine what Rory's going through."
I'm frowning from this conversation as Peeta walks back in.
"Lunch is ready," Peeta announces.
Haymitch turns and goes straight into the dining room. I follow several steps behind. Peeta
waits for me. I stop by him and reach up to touch his cheek. It's still smooth from our
Games two years ago. Portia told him that he wouldn't grow a beard for another three or
four years. It makes him even more of a boy, although anyone could see he isn't a boy
anymore. He's aged since we first came here, but his blue eyes remain as clear and true as
ever.
"Katniss?" He asks, looking at me in concern. "Are you okay?"
I nod my head and remove my hand from his face, but he catches it in his own. I look down
at our enclosed hands, and then back up to his face, searching in that sea of blue.
"Tell me," he breathes.
"We didn't save Rory," I say. "He's as broken as any of us now."
Peeta sighs. "It gets better with time though, doesn't it? I mean, you and Iwe're doing
okay."
"But that's because it's you and I," I answer. "What about Haymitch? The morphlings?
Chaff?"
"Hey," Peeta strokes my face with his free hand. "Rory has his family, and yours, and now,
me and Haymitch. We'll all make it through."
I nod my head, and Peeta takes me away to lunch.
We're under the stage, waiting to go on to the cheering crowds. I straighten Peeta's tie once
again. He smiles ruefully at me. In return, I roll my eyes at him. I don't know why I'm being
like this. Fidgety, a little obsessive compulsive. The prep team, stylists, and Morta have all
gone up to the stage. Haymitch opted out of being in the show, so he could get drunker.
Peeta and I in turn go up on the stage, my hand clutching his tightly. We wave to the
crowd, accept their applause, allow them one brief kiss, then take our seats for Rory's
emergence. He's in a complete daze from the moment he steps on stage.
Caesar comes out, welcoming Rory to the recap of his Games. With a few more
pleasantries, Rory takes his throne of honor, and the show begins.
Being forced to watch the Games once more, and I know now why I've been so fidgety all
night. This. Watching this again. All of the deaths, the horror. I find myself seeing how Rory
reacts. He seems like he's just in pain and he can't even try to hide it.
And suddenly, my senses are overcome with the smell of blood and roses. I remember
Snow's last visit. I can take anything from your life to do whatever I will it.
Do I want this fate on Prim, or Vick, or Posy? They could be reaped within the next few
years. I look over at Peeta and figure that, should we have a child, we would have twelve or
more years to figure out how to save that one. And, I don't know how far the destruction of
disobeying President Snow will go. If my family, Peeta's, Gale's, would all be in danger.
Haymitch, too, would be someone to worry about. Risk one life for the safety of perhaps a
dozen. I bend my head down as I know now I can't let my fear consume me anymore.
That's why tonight, I'm going to make love to Peeta.
I don't feel quite as sick as I did on our wedding night. I'm not terrified at the thought. But I
still don't want this. I probably will never want this, though. And so tonight won't be any
different from any other time we could do this. In fact, sooner is probably better than later,
so our families stay safe.
President Snow presents Rory with his crown as they do every year. Nothing in his
demeanor is threatening to Rory. It is as if he truly is happy that Rory won. I guess what
President Snow said was true, then. Rory's reaping was just a threat. But I won't be risking
the life of anyone else.
We have the party to go to, with the rest of the Hunger Games crew and prominent citizens,
especially the generous sponsors. There's dancing, and Peeta and I quickly figure out that
with some of the men whose hands are much freer than even my husband's, and with a
raise of my eyebrows, Peeta quickly comes to intervene for me.
Rory is quiet through the whole evening, just mustering up enough words to get by
introductions. His eyes hardly ever look anybody in the eye anymore.
As I worry about him, Finnick approaches Peeta and me, inquiring if I can be spared for a
dance. I accept him, turn to face Peeta and mouth, "Watch us."
But surprisingly, Finnick holds me at the farthest distance of anyone tonight. Strange. He
never had anything against married women before, or any woman, for that matter.
"So, what is it Snow is making you do?" Finnick asks me.
"I don't know what you mean," I reply much too quickly.
He grins at me wryly. "Don't lie now, girl on fire. Our president likes to mess in all of his
victor's lives. You are no different from us."
I keep my mouth shut and look away from him. I'm tempted to call Peeta over right now,
but there's one man with emeralds lining his face eyeing me, and I've seen from other
women tonight just how much he cares about personal boundaries. Finnick is a good
alternative to him, I suppose.
"I know he had you marry Peeta," Finnick leans in and whispers in my ear now. "And I know
he's making the two of you have a child."
I jerk my head back. "How do you know that?"
"There are no secrets in Panem that I am not aware of," Finnick says. "Katniss, it would be
in your best interest to get pregnant."
"That's not any of your business!" I exclaim angrily.
"Look, you need to just do it," Finnick persists. "It doesn't matter who the father is, if you
don't like Peeta enough."
"Oh, so you're applying for that position now? I don't think so."
"No!" Finnick's frustrated now. "I'm trying to help you Katniss! I know it seems terrible,
making you do this, but justtake advantage that it's your choice right now."
"Finnick, mind if I step in with my wife?" Peeta's appeared by our side.
Finnick and I are staring each other down right now. Finnick's face returns to his alluring
smile as he says, "Of course, Peeta. You take care of her now."
I gladly welcome Peeta's safe and secure hands as we finish dancing to the song.
"What did he want? You were both soangry."
"He wastelling me to get pregnant," I answer. "He said it didn't matter who the father
was. Just to do it." I glance up at Peeta's face and quickly continue, "But of course I'd never
cheat on you, Peeta. Butthe audacity of him to just walk in here and tell me that!"
"Don't worry about him," Peeta tells me. "We don't have to listen to him or anyone else
about that."
If you only knew, I think to myself as I stare up at him. But I let it pass. Although, now
when I think about tonight, I find it more difficult imagining going through with it.
Toward the end of the evening, Mags hobbles over to us again. I smile at her. I genuinely
like Mags, even though half the time I can't understand her. But she doesn't return the
smile.
Mags babbles, pointing over to Finnick and then to me. I flush, remembering what was said.
"I'm sorry Mags," I tell her. "Finnick was much too out of line."
Mags garbles some more, and it's plain that whatever she's trying to tell me is important. I
can catch clips of words, but I don't get the whole meaning. Mags finally just shakes her
head and walks away.
Back at the Training Center, in our room, the fancy clothes are replaced with those we sleep
in. I take in a deep breath and look at myself in the mirror. I can do this. Women did this all
the time back in District 12 with Cray. My partner won't be nearly as repulsive, and he's
going to be kind to me. He's really going to put the love in the phrase "making love". I'm
not going to get hurt.
When I climb into bed, I realize how clueless I am about this. Peeta smiles at me as he does
every night, opening his arms to me. I pause for a moment and give him a kiss. It's soft
and gentle. I press back in for more.
Peeta catches on quickly. But instead of taking advantage of this, he stops us before
anything else can happen.
"Katniss, this isn't because of what Finnick said, is it?" He asks me.
"No," I answer. I pause awkwardly, trying to figure out what another girl would say right
now. Finally I muster, "I want you."
Peeta laughs. "You're a terrible liar Katniss, and you know it."
"Well, what about what you want?" I challenge him. "I mean, if you love me as long as you
say you have, didn't you ever?"
"Katniss, before the Games I would have been over the moon if you would have
even talked to me," Peeta answers. "And maybe, after, when I thought that your act wasn't
one at all, I may havewondered about us, in the future. But that was cut off pretty soon.
And even now, I only let myself dream about the next step."
"What's the next step?" I ask him.
He smiles sadly. "Kissing me like you mean it."
"What do you think that was after Rory won?" I ask him, exasperated. Honestly, I hadn't
quite gotten that kiss out of my mind yet. Why would Peeta forget it so soon?
"Exactly. After Rory won," Peeta explains. "You were giddy. I'm talking about during an
ordinary moment. No cameras. And not out of glee or misery or desperation, but when you
find yourself in a normal circumstance, and you really mean it when you kiss me."
Well that's a lot of pressure. So I reach up and kiss Peeta. When I pull away he shakes his
head. "Sorry. That wasn't it."
I fall back into the pillows with a huff. "You are so ridiculous! I could probably strip down
right now and you'd ignore me."
"Don't tempt me," Peeta warns.
I sit up. "So that is what it takes?"
"No," He says quickly.
I find the bottom of my shirt, but Peeta's hands are over mine before I can lift them off.
Maybe President Snow was right. Peeta wasn't nearly as easy as any other man would be
with this.
"Katniss, please," Peeta almost begs me. "After all of this pretend, I just want us to be real.
Especially with this."
I suppose, with everything going on, I'd forgotten that I'm not the only person having to go
through with this. Maybe because Peeta loved me, I thought he would jump when I said so.
But now I realize that because he loved me, he wants to make sure we're both ready to
jump.
Would he change his mind if he knew Snow's threat? Yes, probably then he would grit his
teeth and do it right now. But he would be so much worse off than not knowing. So I make
a deal with myself as I settle back into his arms for sleep. In two months, if I haven't
convinced him we're ready yet, I'll tell him. But until then, I'll keep him in ignorance, so
that, if we are ready soon, he'll never suspect anything else.

In the morning when we wake up, I kiss Peeta. As I pull away, I ask, "Was that it?"
Peeta smirks at me and shakes his head. "No, it wasn't."
I sigh and roll my eyes, and then we begin our day. Rory has his final interview, and then
we'll be back on a train to District 12. I'm happy with the fact that I was able to keep my
promise with Gale, that Rory made it through. Maybe after this, he'll forgive me for
marrying Peeta and we can work toward being friends again.
Rory is quiet and reserved during his interview, mostly looking at the floor. He answers in
short sentences, scraping by the bare minimum of words. Caesar is able to smooth
everything out, but I know this isn't Rory. This isn't the boy I came with. And anyone who
knew him before would clearly be able to see that.
We're ready to go to the train station after the interview. We have our few things packed,
and then we're bombarded by more cameras trying to get a last glimpse of us as we leave.
I'm glad when the train pulls out and we're free from the cameras again. Rory just mumbles
something I don't catch and goes back to his compartment. I think about following him, but
decide against it. If he wanted someone, he'd come to me. Or, at least, I hope he would.
Peeta and I settle down in our own compartment, his head somehow ends up on my lap as I
sit back on the bed. I push his hair around, until something on his scalp catches my eye.
"You have a freckle on your head," I tell him as I press down on it. "Right here. Funny place
to have a freckle."
"You know, you have one in the middle of your earlobe," Peeta tells me with his eyes
closed. "It makes it look like you have it pierced. But you don't."
I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that he's noticed, but I still am. I mean, ears aren't
exactly enthralling body parts to look at, and freckles are so tiny. At least, the one on my
ear is. I've barely even noticed it myself.
Then, I find a slight scar behind Peeta's ear as I transfix my gaze on the body part he
noticed about me. It was strange, though, because after the Games we had both been
scrubbed free of our scars.
"How did you get this?" I ask him.
Peeta grins sheepishly. "You don't want to know."
"Yes I do," I tell him, insanely curious now.
"It's not very interesting," he says. "When I was still getting used to my leg, right after we
got back from the Games, I fell on the stairs of my house and the corner of the banister cut
my ear pretty bad. Your mother patched it up for me, actually. She didn't tell you?"
"No," I say. "I guess she figured I'd want my distance from you."
"Well, I can't really blame you," Peeta says.
"It was worse for me, though, before we became friends again," I tell him. "No could
reallyunderstand what it was like. Haymitch, I guess could. But he's not always the most
sympathetic person. And Gale never wanted to talk about it. I didn't either, at least, not
with him. It's different when someone's trying to get you but they can't, opposed to
someone who knows. You know."
My hands have gone still in Peeta's hair and he sits up to face me. I look away from him,
realizing what I'm saying. I shouldn't try to stop it. This is what will make Peeta believe
we're ready. And so I don't want to stop, but at the same time, my nature fights against
letting anyone in. And I want to keep my security up, keep Peeta fenced out. Make him
believe but not quite believe it myself.
He takes my hands in his. "Yes. I know what you mean."
Maybe we would have kissed then. We probably would have, because I could see that it
would have been the perfect time to give him the kiss that would let him know we should
move on. But we're called to dinner, and so it never happens. Peeta lets go of one of my
hands and leads me down to the dining car, where Haymitch is getting drunk and Rory
twirls his food around his plate.
Afterwards, we watch the replay of the interview. Rory asks to be excused from it, and I
pity him enough to give that to him. After all, he didn't have to convince anyone he was in
love with someone. His every move wasn't being watched by the Capitol.
That night, it's not my screams that penetrate the train. I wake up to Peeta's bleary eyes as
he searches for my invisible nightmares to fight, but they aren't here tonight. I'm safe. It's
Rory.
"I'm going to check on him," I tell Peeta and fumble out of bed. He rises, as if wondering
whether or not to follow me, but I end up going alone.
Rory's quieted down when I reach his compartment, but when I slide the door open I can
hear him whimpering, his face buried in his pillow.
"Rory?" I call to him, but he doesn't respond.
I sit down on his bed, my hand placed on his back, but he shudders away from it.
"Rory, it's me," I tell him. "It's okay Rory, it was a nightmare. It was a nightmare."
He shakes his head at me and turns it so it's finally out of the pillow. There are tears in his
eyes as he says, "No it's not, Katniss. It happened."
"What?" I ask. "What happened?"
"They all died," he whispers. "I'm the only one left. The only one alive with all of the ghosts.
And she's dead, Katniss. Crimson's dead. Because of me being so stupid."
I feel guilty as I realize I failed Crimson, too. I was her mentor. I was supposed to keep her
alive. Did I try my best? Or had I been so focused on Rory, Crimson had been neglected? I
hadn't sent Crimson anything, but I sent Rory the wood and later the honey. I didn't even
notice Crimson was in the fight until she had jumped on Buck.
But I didn't kill Crimson. Rory didn't kill her. Not even Buck killed her, not really.
It was the Capitol.
"Rory, nothing that happened in that arena was your fault," I tell him. "The Capitol made
sure twenty-three children would be dead. None of it was because of you."
"But I'm here," Rory begins shaking. "I did something to make it this way. It scares me,
Katniss. I'm all that's left. And I'm not doing very well."
I lean in and hug him, realizing how helpless I am. Haymitch had been right. I didn't know
what Rory was going through, because I'd gotten to keep Peeta. But I still understood
enough to know better than try and tell Rory everything was going to be okay, that what
happened before doesn't matter.
Because it does. All of it does matter.
Peeta's still awake when I come back to bed nearly an hour later. I impatiently come back
into him, feeling drained from my time with Rory.
"How is he?" Peeta asks me.
"Awful," I answer honestly.
"How are you?"
"Better. But still feeling pretty bad."
Peeta's lips are warm where they brush against my forehead. "There's nothing left to do
now but keep fighting," he whispers.
This sends a jolt of fear down into me, and I hastily press my lips to Peeta's. I don't know
why this is the only tactic I can ever think of to counter-balance Peeta's rebel talk. As if the
only way to beat out Peeta is to get him to stop talking, and the best way to do it is kiss
him.
But I find myself becoming drowsy in his warmth and in the soft bed, so Peeta ends it with
some kisses on my neck before settling me back down into him, where I fall asleep again.

The next morning we pull up to the station. Rory's the first to go out, and right away
Hazelle's arms are around her son and she's crying. Gale is the next to embrace Rory,
followed by Vick and Posy. Peeta and I step out of the train behind Rory, and one by one we
get handed down the Hawthorne line. I hug all of them, Gale a little longer than the others,
but the only ones to hug Peeta and Haymitch are Hazelle and Posy. I see the rigidness in
Gale's posture as he's forced to thank his cousin's husband for bringing his brother back
from the Games.
Through many interviews, Peeta and I have to keep up our appearance of the happy
newlyweds. His arm is around me, and I lean into him, look up adoringly as he speaks.
Which, really, wouldn't be too far from the truth in another situation. But having Gale's eyes
on me makes everything so difficult.
It's not just the feelings I may or might have had for him. It's knowing that his spite for my
marriage with Peeta is linked to who I was before the Games, before the Capitol. And that if
that had never happened, we wouldn't be here like this. Peeta and I would have still
probably never exchanged a word. I would be hunting with Gale. Maybe I'd be with him,
considering marriage. His presence always brings that to my life so strongly.
Then the difficult part of the interview comes. Crimson's family is here. Two parents, an
older sister, and Pine, who she'd brought up before in her interview and who Rory
pretended to be as she died. Her little brother. Her Prim.
I try to hid my shame. Seeing Rory back and alive, but Crimson gone, my stomach twists
uncomfortably. I should have done something to save her, the way I was able to save
Peeta. There had to have been something we could have done to save her, too. Bribery or
blackmail. I didn't do enough.
And standing here next to Peeta, looking at the grieving faces of her family, the older sister
that resembles her so much, and sorrowful brother, the broken mother, the pained father, I
wonder why I was able to keep Peeta. Why he was able to keep me. I've cheated not only
the Capitol of their power, but of the rest of the victims of the Games. I shouldn't be the
happily married woman right now. I should be drunk like Haymitch or lost like Rory.
Or, better yet, dead.

The cameras flock around our house as much or more than they do Rory's, even though
he's the victor this year. While Rory is silent and solemn, Peeta and I give them a show at
least. And the Capitol would much rather see their star-crossed lovers finally together than
an angst-ridden teenage boy, even if he was their newest victor. Romance always won out.
Everyone, especially Peeta and I, are glad when the media leaves though in two weeks. We
become ourselves again.
Ourselves. Broken again by the newest Games, my nightmares now featuring Crimson
alongside Rue and Glimmer and Clove. Still trying so hard to make our patchwork life of
actual and fake into something we both want to live.
When I would kiss Peeta when we were alone, I would ask him, "Was that one it?" And each
time, he would shake his head. Now, I only raise my eyebrows, and he still lets me know it
wasn't enough. I'm beginning to feel lost in what will be enough for Peeta. I debate a few
times whether or not to just come out and tell him now rather than wait, but each attempt I
lose courage.
I can't help but have my thoughts look forward to Gale living by us. I hope that, being
neighbors now, we could be friends again. Or at least talk to each other.
With the media, we'd had family gatherings where Gale had to be present. But he didn't talk
to me. After all, it was Peeta's arm that was always around my waist, and Peeta's lips I
would always kiss. But I figured once the cameras were back at the Capitol, Gale and I
could talk. We could be friends.
It didn't happen that way.
He went back to the Seam. He didn't need to work now, as Rory took care of everything for
him, but he didn't want to live in the Victors Village. It didn't take a genius to guess why
that was. I almost feel guilty for taking him away from his family, but I make myself realize
it isn't my fault. Gale's overly bitter about something none of us could help anymore. He's
being stubborn again and just won't let this pass. He would rather our friendship die off
completely.
A month back and this begins to chaff at me. I want to talk to Gale. I'd kept my promise.
Rory was safe. And he hadn't even thanked me. Besides, I deserve more of an explanation
than this.
The thought of going to see him rubs against my mind more and more. I wonder when I
should do it, what I would say. I just need Gale to talk to me. And if our friendship was
buried for good, I want him to say it to me.
One day I get back from visiting my family and I find a note on the counter from Peeta. It
tells me that he has to work a bit later tonight for a wedding cake that only he's really
qualified to frost. He won't be here for dinner, but he should be home by eight.
I have hours until he gets back. I'm restless inside the house alone. I consider going to visit
Prim again, but I realize that now is as good of a time as any to go and see Gale again.
I had planned on telling Peeta before I went to see Gale. But Peeta's gone, busy at the
bakery, and now is the perfect time for me to talk to Gale. I'll just have to tell him about it
later when I get back.
I walk down the familiar paths of the Seam until I reach the Hawthorne's home. Or, really,
just Gale's home now. The rest of the Hawthornes moved in with Rory to his house.
I knock on the door and wait for his answer. Just when I'm about to turn away, figuring he's
not at home and this walk has been for nothing, the door opens and Gale's standing in the
doorway.
"Hey Catnip," he says to me, just like he would before.
Hearing his voice again, talking to me like I wasn't married to another man, sends me flying
into his arms for a hug. He laughs and hugs me back.
He brings me inside of his house, asking if I want anything. I take a cup of tea and smile as
I put it to my lips, blowing to get it cool.
"So, why did you come here today Katniss?" Gale asks. He never was one to beat around
the bush.
"I want to talk to you," I tell him. "I've missed you."
"Have you?" Gale wonders. "Never seems like it when I see you now."
"You only see me on the TV," I remind him. "Nothing the Capitol puts on there is real, you
know that."
"Nothing?" He raises his eyebrows.
I wonder now if he's referring to Peeta and me. If all of those kisses and batting eyelashes
are real. If I'm truly in love with Peeta. I think that's what Gale is alluding to. But since I'm
not even quite sure of that myself, I don't reply.
"Look, I just want to know where we stand," I tell him. "I hate that we aren't speaking to
each other anymore."
Gale sighs. "You still mean everything to me. But it's hard to be anything with you when
you're always with that precious husband of yours." His sarcastic tone bites down on me.
"I wish you would stop talking about Peeta that way," I say. "He hasn't done anything
wrong."
Gale shakes his head. "Don't you see that I know that? I can't even hate Peeta, not really. I
don't really like him, but I can't hate him. I just hate him being with you. When I know that
it's supposed to be us. It was always supposed to be you and me, Katniss, until those
Games. Can't you imagine how much it's messed with me? Knowing that he's allowed to do
whatever he wants with you, and if I even talk to you anymore it gets all of District 12
gossiping? I hate what's going on right now. That's why I haven't been able to speak to you
since your wedding."
"Well, we're all going through a lot of difficult things Gale," I snap at him, incredibly
annoyed with everything that's happening.
"Oh, and it's such a burden to be prettied up by the Capitol and lavished with anything you
could want," Gale retorts.
"Anything I want?" I stand up, clenching my fists. "How about freedom? How about being
able to choose what I want to do? About not having to worry about the safety of everyone I
love if I make one wrong move? Do I get that? No!"
Gale moves over by me. "What do you mean Katniss? Who's going to get hurt?"
It's such a burden on me, and Gale is still my best friend, and so I tell him.
"Rory's name being reaped was my fault," I tell him. "President Snow told me at our
wedding I was supposed to be pregnant by the time the Games started. I wasn't and so
Rory got picked. And if I don't get pregnant soon, more people will be hurt."
Gale's thinking, his eyes off somewhere beyond me.
"Butyou were only married for two months," Gale says. "You were supposed to get
pregnant that fast? And they punished you for not fulfilling that?"
I shut my mouth and look away from him. Gale's my best friend, but as someone who also
tried to win my heart, he does not need to know about that aspect of my married life. When
I look back up into his eyes, though, there's a new passion burning in them.
And then, he's grabbing my face and pushing his lips onto mine.
I never see these things coming. And I'm so shocked that for a moment, I let him kiss me.
While Peeta's warm and steady, Gale's a fiery blaze wherever his skin touches mine.
My mind locks around his name. Peeta.
I push Gale away with a shove that was probably harder than necessary, but I'm panicked
about that kiss. Unlike our first, I am Peeta's wife now. That was utterly wrong to do and it
should have never happened.
"What was that for?" I cry, fearful he would come back again.
Gale grins. "You don't love him."
"What do you mean?" I ask, still confused by that kiss. "Love who?"
"Peeta. You don't love him," Gale explains. "The Capitol punished you because you two
haven't even"
It's frightening how well Gale's mind fits in with the Capitol. How he can see things that
neither Peeta nor I saw. But something still gets at me about what he said. About how he
thinks I don't love Peeta.
"Well, are you saying you have to do it in order to love someone?" I ask him. "That would
mean you don't love me."
"But you two are married," Gale says. He's enjoying this revelation too much. "It's
completely different."
I flush and turn away from him. "It doesn't matter. It's going to happen."
"But it won't matter, because you won't feel anything," He says. He pauses, then continues,
"Katniss, if this rebellion ever gets going, if we winyou'll be free."
I look back around to face him. I don't know what he's getting at. "What do you mean?"
"Look, we both know that this rebellion is going to happen," Gale says. "Once it does, and if
we win, the Capitol won't be threatening you. You won't have to fake this relationship with
Peeta anymore. You can come clean about it being a staged romance. You'll be free of him."
"An annulment," I whisper.
Before when Peeta offered it to me, I didn't take it because it was the worse of two evils. If
I could have, my choice would have been to stay single and without any children. But
nowI try and picture it. The war over. The Capitol overthrown. Those papers signed. Lying
alone in my bed at night. Nightmares overtaking me. The house empty of the smell of
bread. His laugh faded away. His voice gone. His touch removed.
And it hurts.
It's actually difficult for me to breathe just considering this. I bend down as the ache crawls
up my chest. It's not real, I think to myself. He's my husband. He won't leave me.
"Katniss?" Gale asks.
If thinking about Peeta leaving me is this painful, I know if will be a thousand times worse if
it actually happened. And I know that the strange, messed-up relationship we were thrown
into now has transformed something in me. Peeta made me change. I can't even fathom his
absence in my life anymore.
"You're wrong," I tell Gale as I straighten up. I stare at him right in the eyes. "I'm in love
with Peeta."
I don't wait for Gale's reaction. I just turn around and go back to our house. I look at the
clock, but it's not time for Peeta to be home yet. I anxiously eat some of the leftover
chicken soup, not able to taste it.
I'm in love with Peeta.
I'd heard girls at school describe their feelings of when they were in love, before the Games.
They said it made you giddy and senseless. Your heart would melt, jump and skip, all of
those clichs. But I am weighed down by this revelation now. I want him to be back. I want
to tell him. It seems the only way I can lift this burden off of me.
Finally, I hear the front slam. I sit up in my chair and stand as Peeta comes through the
kitchen door. He smiles at me and holds up a bag that's releasing a mouthwatering scent.
"I brought cheese buns," He tells me.
Cheese buns.
Why my favorite treats, that I've had dozens of times before, sets me off I don't know. I
rapidly cross the room and kiss him right there. I've never kissed him like this before. I've
never grasped at him, pulling him in, never so anxious as right now to let down my guard
and show him that I do love him.
I pull away only to whisper, "I love you."
It's the first time I've said it since our wedding night. And the first time, really, I've been
completely sure of saying it. Peeta's in complete shock right now.
"That," he says. "was it."
I kiss him again, unable to stop and act through this rationally. He smells like frosting.
Buttercream, I think. Which is probably the kind he was using for the wedding cake.
This thought of a wedding cake sets off a bell in my mind. I pull away from Peeta and look
in the bag of baked goods he's brought. There are my cheese buns on the top, but I move
them away for what I'm looking for.
I draw out a simple loaf of bread and say to Peeta, "We never did our toasting."
"No, we didn't," Peeta says.
"We should do it now."
Peeta pauses to look me in the eyes, but he ends up nodding his head. I take his hand in
mine and tug him out of the kitchen. We could toast the bread in the kitchen or our living
room, since both have chimneys, but neither of those places feel right for us. I continue to
lead him up the stairs and into our bedroom, where the final fireplace in our house rests.
"Here?" Peeta asks. Other people only have one fireplace in their kitchen, which is where he
was probably expecting it for us. But unlike other people, we have our bedroom and we
don't have a flock of congratulatory loved ones watching us.
"I think it will be the best place," I tell him.
Peeta doesn't say anything else but begins the fire, taking out the wood and matches. I
observe his hands, the way he can coax up the flames so easily with a bit of breath. His
hands are a little square, his fingernails cut to the very nubs. I don't know why I've never
noticed them much before. Hadn't I watched Peeta make beautiful art with those same
hands? Weren't they the ones that I clung to? Didn't they help hold me together? I owe so
much to them, including my sanity.
He sits back on his heels as soon as the flames build up. I sit down by him, a chunk of
bread torn off from the loaf. We break it off into two and we both toast our own bit of
bread. Then, we exchange them. I put mine in his mouth and he puts his in mine.
And now, there's nothing in this world that will take him from me.
"Peeta," I say, my hand finding its way into his. "Youyou know that thisusit's not
something the Capitol is making me do, right?"
"It's not?" He asks.
"Maybe at first," I say. "But if the Capitol disappeared one day, if all of this were over and
we could choose our lifeI want you to know, I'd still choose you."
Peeta holds his free hand to my cheek, his thumb skimming across my skin. I lean into his
touch, looking up at his face. He's struggling with something. "I keep looking for the lie, but
I can't find it."
"Because it's the truth," I tell him. "I'm never going to leave you, Peeta." I swallow then
ask, "Will you stay with me, too?"
He leans in and kisses me softly.
"Always," he whispers.
I fall back into him, a hunger growing in me. It starts at my center, spreading through me
until not one part in my body is free from this want, this need. I've had this a few times
with Peeta, but never so extreme in me. It blazes through me with such emotion I'd never
imagined I could feel before.
My hands search through Peeta as we kiss. I start out in his hair, try out his cheeks, down
his neck, until I can't feel his skin anymore because of his shirt.
Without thinking, I begin to undo the pesky buttons, fumbling as I blindly undo them,
because I don't think I could let my lips off of his right now. Once the last one is free, I start
where I left off, feeling the curve of his collarbone, the smooth skin on his chest, all along
his midriff, until I come to the end, a bit of soft down below his navel, crawling down until it
disappears. My fingertips brush against it and Peeta shudders.
"Katniss," he breathes heavily. "I need to know how far you want to take this, before you
get uncomfortable."
"I'm not uncomfortable," I tell him honestly. "I want all of it."
There's only a flash of uncertainty in Peeta's eyes before he becomes sure. Then, he starts
kissing me again.
And on the train, coming back from our wedding, Peeta had been right. We are ready,
because we don't even have to think about the rest.

The next morning, I wake up before Peeta. My sleep had been exceptionally peaceful since
we came home from the Capitol. There's a sweet, happy feeling lingering all over me. I
haven't felt this way in my entire life, at least not since my father died. I feel a sense of
closeness, security, family; all because of Peeta, who is still sleeping soundly, my head
resting in its usual place on his chest.
Through my life, I'd heard some things about sex. As a young teenager, I never bothered to
listen to the whispers at school. After all, it wouldn't help me keep my family fed, so why
did I need to know about it? I'd gotten one class at school when I was twelve about the
mechanics of it. The way they talked about sex, it seemed like a technical, scientific
process, something that a machine could do. That lesson lasted an hour and then we
started talking about coal production again.
Then, when I was at the Capitol, wellI usually tried to avoid hearing about all of that at
first. Although after my engagement, I'll admit I was a little more curious, or I wanted to
know what to be expecting of it. Looking back, listening to the people that also find the
most atrocious thing wearing last season's fashions about the most intimate experience two
people can have was definitely a bad idea. There were all sorts of talking about strange
costumes, edible creams, whips, and things I still try to forget about. In the Capitol, it
seemed like a positively animalistic activity. Like two people fighting and struggling, biting
and clawing.
Last night blew those two ideas away for me.
It wasn't mechanical. And it wasn't brutal. It was beautiful. At least, that's what it was with
Peeta for me.
I still don't know how Peeta did it. How he could be so gentle with me, but still so
passionate. How he could awaken feelings inside of me I'd never felt before, that I even
doubted I was able to experience. And especially how, even after letting him in completely,
I wasn't scared anymore. I trust him.
Peeta stirs a little before opening his eyes. He orients himself and then looks down at me.
For some reason, in the light of morning I can't hold his gaze. My vision falls down to the
bedspread, a blush creeping up my cheeks.
"Good morning," Peeta tells me. It's so ordinary, something he would say to me any other
day, that the shy, nervous twist in my stomach loosens.
"Morning," I reply, finally able to look in his eyes.
He's looking me with such pure joy I can't help but smile at him. I can only imagine what
last night was for him, what all of it meant. It wasn't so much the physical aspect, but in
our actions, how that was able to show our emotions about each other.
"Sois there anything I need to be sorry for?" Peeta asks me.
"No," I tell him. "Everything last night was perfect."
He grins. "I can't think of a better way to describe it."
I stretch up until my lips are on his. I let out a slight moan and grip his shoulders, my
fingers digging in his skin. But Peeta breaks away.
"What time is it?" he asks me.
"Who cares?" I ask back, drawing him back into me. Peeta and I don't have to work. We
have all morning to ourselves. All day if we wanted, too. But Prim was expecting me to visit
her. Still, we had hours until she'd be back from school.
Peeta sighs, pulling back again. "I promised my father I'd help him at the bakery this
morning. They've been swamped recently."
The cruel reality that there was a life for us outside of this bedroom ends the little bubble
we've been in for the past night. As Peeta goes to shower, I dress and head downstairs to
begin breakfast.
As I scramble some eggs and make toast, everything outside of the two of us slowly begins
to work into my mind. Peeta's spending the day at the bakery. In town. Where people go to
shopand gossip.
A frantic feeling erupts in my chest. Immediately, I wonder if anyone saw me go into or
leave Gale's house, alone. What if Peeta heard that? What if the story grew into something
that wasn't true at all? He could hear a lie and think it was the truth. And then, after last
night, he'd be more hurt than if we'd spent our night as we used to.
I would have to give him the truth. That I went to see Gale. I don't know how much to tell,
but Peeta will have to know that, at least.
When Peeta comes back down breakfast is ready and we sit down to eat together. My
tongue's heavier than lead as I try to bring it up. As Peeta's scooping the last of his eggs
into his mouth, I'm finally able to speak.
"Peeta, I have something to tell you."
He looks up, puzzled by my guilty expression. I continue, "Yesterday, when you were
working late in the bakery, I decided to go see Gale."
"Oh?" His voice is trying to reserve judgment, waiting to hear more, trying to discover if this
should make him worried.
"I saw him," I say. "Wetalked."
Peeta lets out a breath of relief and then laughs. "I'm glad. It's been bothering you about
what's been going on him. I was just worried for a second something more happened. Your
face looked like it was going to break."
He pauses and looks at my expression. But I can't find his eyes anymore. Instead, they
focus on my plate, the brown crumbs contrasting against the creamy colored plates, the
yellowish fluids from my eggs rimming the edges.
"Katniss?" His voice is tight. "Did anything else happen?"
I swallow hard, and know there's no going back now. I can't lie, and he'd know anyway. I
whisper, "He kissed me."
"Did you kiss him back?" Peeta asks.
My mind searches for the truth. "I can't remember."
"You don't remember?" His voice trembles.
"I pushed him away," I say. "But I can't remember much before then. He was just there,
and then he grabbed my face and started kissing me and I was surprised and then I
remembered and I pushed him."
Peeta gets up and walks back a little, one hand on his face, his fingers rubbing his forehead.
I realize how suddenly Gale has become an attempted seducer of his wife. And seeing Peeta
shudder, clench his fists, I feel the urge to protect Gale.
"Gale was confused," I say. "He thought that I wasn't happy or something. That I wasn't in
love with you."
"And why would he think that Katniss?" Peeta turns on me now. "Why would he think it
would be okay to kiss you if you didn't give him any sort of inclination that was the case?"
"He misunderstood things," I fumble.
"What things?" Peeta asks. "What did you say to him that made him think that? And is it
true? Did you only sleep with me last night because you felt guilty? That because you kissed
someone else, you owed it to me to have sex, just because I'm your husband?"
"No!" I shout, and then the words come tumbling out, "II told Gale about President Snow
and Rory!"
Peeta pauses. "What do you mean?"
I look down. "When President Snow saw me that night in the Training Center, he told me he
pulled Rory's name because we hadn't even tried to get pregnant. I told Gale President
Snow picked Rory's name because I wasn't pregnant, but he figured out that it also meant
we hadn't slept together yet. Gale thought it meant I didn't love you and so he kissed me."
Peeta grips at the counter, and I can tell it's taking all of his power not to smash our entire
kitchen apart right now. What have I done? This went so wrong. I want to take it back, all
of it back. This wasn't the way it was supposed to be.
"You lied to me," Peeta's voice is tight. "You kissed someone else. And then you lied again."
His cold blue eyes penetrate into me now. "I gave you a way out, Katniss. If you didn't want
thisif you didn't want to be married to me, you could have left. You could have gone off
with Gale and told him everything and left me out of it, and I wouldn't have cared! But
you promised me Katniss. You told me you wanted to be married to me, to make this real.
You said you loved me."
"I do," I choke. "I love you."
Peeta shakes his head in disgust. "I'm beginning to think you don't know the first thing
about love. And that you might not ever be able to learn."
My throat is sticky as I struggle out, "Peeta-"
"I have to go help my family," Peeta moves toward the door. "I promised them I would."
And then he's gone.
His words sting me deep down. For a moment, the horror of Peeta leaving me seems a
reality. I've messed up too much now; there can't possibly be a way to forgive me now.
Every breath I brings in hurts me, tearing a hole deeper in my chest.
He can't leave me though. There's the Capitol, first off. And I still have to get pregnant.
AndI need him. He can't leave me, he just can't. Not after everything he's done for me, he
can't just give up all of the feelings he's had since the first day of school.
I try to keep busy to pass the day. So I clean. The windows all get washed, the rugs get
beaten, the floors shine. The mechanical movement helps me, but my mind still goes
around this issue with Peeta. I need to explain everything to him. I have all of my reasons
pointed out in my mind now, in a way that I can access them more easily. But I also have
my apology. Because whatever I meant to spare him of, I've obviously made ten times
worse. And I'm agonizing over it.
In the afternoon, I go over to my family's house. Prim's not home from school yet, so I sit
down for some tea with my mother.
"Katniss, is everything all right?" My mother asks.
I look up at her and then back down at my tea. "Peeta and I had a fight."
"Your first is always the worst," my mother sighs. "So what was it over? Chores? Finances?"
I shake my head. "Worse. I don't want to talk about it. It's my fault anyway. Peeta's so mad
at me. He's been at the bakery all day."
"He'll come back," my mother assures me. "And he loves you. You'll be able to work it out.
He just needs a little time to cool off."
I stir my tea and sigh. Somehow, I don't think so. I don't think Peeta will ever love me
again after what I've done. The expression in his eyes before he left, the iciness of them, I
wonder if that's the only way he'll be able to look at me now. It's the only way he should
look at me now.
Prim comes back from school, setting her bag down on an empty chair. In her hand is a
folded-up piece of paper.
"Peeta caught me after school when I passed the bakery," Prim says. "He wanted me to
give you this."
She holds out the paper. I take it hesitantly, expecting biting words and reproach. Maybe
they're more papers this time, calling for our divorce. It wouldn't surprise me. I carefully
unfold the note and stare at his handwriting more a moment. It's rather sloppy, and for
some reason even more so now. Was he trembling with anger again when he wrote this?
Finally, I read:
Katniss-
I'm not coming home tonight. There are some orders my family needs help filling out. I'm
staying with them tonight since we'll be up so late. I don't know when I'll be back.
Peeta
This note confirms my suspicions. Before, whenever he had to leave me a note, he would
always be sure to end with "Love, Peeta". Now, he just writes his name. I've completely
blown it. He's not coming back. And if he does, then he'll still resent me.
I guess I really deserve it. That right when I realize I love Peeta, he gets enough sense to
hate me and be apathetic like I've been these past two years. After all of the misery I put
him through, this is only justice.
After dinner, I go back home because I don't want Prim or my mother to know how
absolutely terrible my situation is right now. My mother knows we fought, but she thinks
we'll be back together soon. She thinks Peeta still loves me.
The house has never felt so empty. I walk through it, hoping maybe Peeta changed his mind
and came home. Or that maybe he needed something and came back for it and I could talk
to him, beg for his forgiveness.
But he isn't here.

A/N I am such a softie. Someone's birthday is today who I guess has been
refreshing her page waiting for this update. I finished this chapter today just for
you, although I wasn't planning on finishing until tomorrow, because it's your
birthday and you have a great cousin who wants you to be happy on your day, I
finished. So read this, then go have some cake and party with your friends and
family. And I wish I knew your name, but I'm guessing you'll know who you are
when you read this. Happy birthday!
When I go to bed that night, I can't sleep. I lay in our bed, completely alone. Ever since we
were married, Peeta had always been there when I slept. During the Games, he wasn't in
bed with me all the time, but he always made sure he was in the room. And when I woke up
from a nightmare, he was there for me. But tonight, he's in a different bed, in a different
house, in town. He won't hear me if I scream. His arms won't come around me.
And the worst part is, I'm in a nightmare even as I'm awake.
I miss him. Everything feels wrong right now, without him beside me. I curl up in a ball,
squeezing myself together. I close my eyes, but I don't fall asleep. I can't. The hours pass
agonizingly slow.
When the sun comes up, so do I. I can't stand being in this empty bed by myself. I eat a
few bites of toast for breakfast, but my stomach feels sick and I end up throwing it away. I
look for something else that might be more appetizing, and I find the cheese buns Peeta
brought two days ago, the ones that sent me flying into his arms.
I can't even look at them.
I think about cleaning again, but today it doesn't help. I look at the clock and realize Peeta's
had a full day now to calm down. That was it. He's had his time, and I'm going to go talk to
him.
I dress, and as I look at myself in the mirror, I see what a mess I am. My eyes have purple
bags under them from not sleeping, and my face is etched with worry. I turn away and go
out the door to find Peeta.
When I go into the bakery, Peeta's mother and older brother Jam are working the front
counter. They both glare at me as I come in. I wonder how much Peeta has told them.
Hopefully not much.
"I need to see Peeta," I say.
"Well, he doesn't want to see you," Jam scowls.
"I need to talk to him," I insist. "I'm his wife."
"You should start acting like one then," Jam retorts.
I fume for a moment, and then begin to march forward to the back door to go where the
kitchen and Peeta are, but my mother-in-law stands in the way. We sit there, having a
glowering match with each other.
Finally, she says, "You need to leave our business right now. When Peeta is ready to talk,
he'll come to you." She looks over at Jam and then back at me. "I don't know exactly what
you did, but I've never seen Peeta so upset before, and so I know it must be awful,
whatever it is. And I'm not going to let you march in there before he's ready to see you."
I hate how this woman, the one who beat Peeta because he burnt some bread, is now for
some reason protecting him because of me. Like what I've done is worse than what she's
ever done to him. My stomach sinks as I wonder if I really hurt him that bad.
I can't find the words to argue anymore, and so I go outside, but I don't go far. I wander
down the alley into the backyards of the businesses in town. And in seven years, it still
hasn't changed. I walk over to the apple tree, the one I huddled under that dark, awful day,
and sit under its shade. I stare at the two pigs in the pen, lying down, their fat bellies
bulging out of them. I bring my knees up to my chest, keeping myself together. My
forehead presses down on my kneecaps and I rock back and forth a little.
Minutes pass. I bring myself to look back at the bakery. Peeta's at the window, staring out
at me. But when he sees me looking at him, he moves away and disappears from my view.
I still wait.
After about an hour, I hear the back door slam. Probably his mother coming to chase me off
for him again. I'm irritated for a moment at the thought that Peeta can't just come and do it
himself. He can't keep on avoiding me forever.
When my eyes turn up to the person approaching me, I nearly choke. It's Peeta.
His expression is guarded, like he doesn't trust me. I don't blame him. But what hurts most
is his eyesthe sadness in them, and knowing that it's because of me its there. It's taking
all of my energy not to just rush to him now, throw my arms around him, and beg for his
forgiveness. The most I can do, however, is scramble up to my feet.
His eyes don't meet mine. "What do you want, Katniss?"
"I want to explain everything to you," I say. "And I want to apologize."
His gaze moves farther away from me, toward the pigs. I continue, "I know that not telling
you about what President Snow said was wrong."
"You did more than that. You lied about it."
"I know," A pang hits my chest. "I'm sorry. But I was trying to protect you, to protect us. If
I told you what President Snow said, what would you have done?"
Peeta grimaces. "We would have slept together, obviously."
"And the whole time, you would have hated it," I say. "You're too good, Peeta. You never
wanted just to do it, you wanted it to mean something, to be more than just the physical.
And it wouldn't have meant anything to you if it happened under those circumstances. But
you deserved more than that, after the way I've hurt you before. I thought I was helping
you."
"You still should have told me," Peeta says.
"I know and I'm sorry Peeta," I say again. "I really, really am sorry. I'm not ever going to
lie to you again."
Peeta nods his head, looking at his feet. I take a step toward him, then another. I don't
know if he's forgiven me or not.
"Can we go home now?" I ask him.
"Maybe it would be best if we spent more time apart," Peeta tells me.
"What?" I ask.
He looks at me now. "Katniss, what you've done is more than lying to me about Snow. It's
not even the fact that Gale kissed you. It's that you let it all get to you so you felt obligated
to sleep with me. You didn't want me, Katniss, and telling me you loved me and then
showing it, but it in the end meaning nothing, that's what's hard for me. Believing we'd
finally made it, and having it be only made of guilt and threats. So I can't be with you right
now."
He thinks I didn't want him, that I'd deceived him about our intimacy. This, at least, I know
that I'm innocent of.
"Did I tell you what happened after Gale kissed me?" I ask him.
He shakes his head.
"Well, after he told me I didn't love you because we hadn't been together yet, he also told
me that if the rebellion was ever successful, I wouldn't have to pretend that our romance
was real," I say. "He said that I wouldn't have to be with you. And I thought about it, about
what it would be like if we weren't married anymore. I hated it. It hurt me just to think
about you leaving. And I realized I love you. And that's why I slept with you that night. Not
because I felt guilty or scared, but because I love you."
Peeta searches my eyes. "You mean it?"
I nod my head. "More than I've ever meant anything else before."
He hesitantly raises his hand and then tucks a stray strand of hair behind my ear, his thumb
then moving down my jaw line until he reaches my chin, where he holds my face up to his,
leans in, and kisses me.
I cling to him, making sure that he doesn't escape from me again. My arms wrap around his
waist, pushing the two of us closer. He pulls away to ask, "Soshould we go home now?"
I nod my head and Peeta takes my hand in his. We walk back through the streets, into
Victors Village, and back to our house, where we silently walk up to our bedroom and shut
the door.
A/N To address some past criticism and ones I'm sure I'll get for this chapter:
I hope now you understand Peeta's point of view on their fight and how he was so
incredibly upset for more than just her lying about Snow. He kind of figured that
with Snow's threat and Gale's kiss, Katniss sleeping with him was to make herself
feel better; that if by claiming she loved him and giving him that experience, it
would make up for what she'd done. But you can see how this would upset Peeta,
who wanted everything to be so real. Remember, he can't read Katniss' thoughts
and he's had issues with her pretending to love him before. It would seem to make
sense that was the case rather than a sudden burning, undying love coming from
Katniss.
I figure some of you won't get Mama Mellark's protectiveness over Peeta. I think
she actually hates Katniss a lot (being the daughter of her husband's former
affection and a girl who has kind of made her son look like an idiot), so she kind of
got joy in the fact that Peeta was finally to a point where he could perhaps hate
Katniss and more of didn't want them to get along than actually trying to help
Peeta out. I hope that makes sense. It did in my head. It's not that she's a
wonderful mother so much as a vindictive witch.
Wow that was long. Sorry.

In some ways, my life becomes easier than it has ever been since Prim's name was pulled.
The stress of my relationship with Peeta is gone, or at least nearly so. We aren't skirting
around boundaries, trying to balance expectations with our wants, and I've learned that the
truth is most valuable with him.
But still, things are difficult anyway.
One night, I lay in bed with Peeta beside me. I stare up at the ceiling, my hands clasped
across my stomach. Images even outside of my nightmares haunt me, of what perhaps the
Capitol is planning for me right now. The death of my mother or Prim. Gale and his crew in
an accident.
"Peeta," I say. "We need to have a baby."
I look over at him, and he gives me a pained expression. "You don't want one though."
"I don't want anyone I love dead, either," I say. I lean in to his ear and whisper.
"Sowellcan I have your baby?"
His face falls.
"I hate that they make even this tainted," He strokes my face carefully.
"You love me, right?"
"You know I do."
"And I love you," I tell him. "Nothing they can do will change that. What happens between
you and me is between us. And if what we like to do together ends up with me getting
pregnantwell, thenit wasn't because of them. It's because we love each other."
He sighs. "It's not the same."
"What other option is there?"
He doesn't answer, but instead starts kissing me. Before long, we're lost in each other.
Everything now, though, isn't about first discovering our love or making up. Each move,
each touch, is meant for the creation of new life. Now suddenly, acting on this demand
rather than just thinking about it makes the situation difficult for me again.
After, as Peeta snores lightly in his sleep, I stuff my face in my pillow to stifle the crying
that's overcome me. I love Peeta, and it's impossible to deny being with him gives me an
intense, pleasurable connection to him. But suddenly what the Capitol asks of us, what I'm
asking of Peeta, is overpowering. I have enough people to worry about. A child? What am I
to do with a child? How am I going to protect it from the Capitol? I feel as if I'm in an
endlessly smooth room, trying to find a way out, but there being no exit, no secret
passageway.
I'm so consumed in my terror I don't notice until his arms around me that Peeta's awake. I
turn from the soft pillow to Peeta's solid body, shaking from fear and my sobs.
"Shhh, Katniss," Peeta begins the normal routine to calm me, stroking my hair, kissing my
forehead, holding me close. But this isn't the intangible essence of a nightmare. For all I
know, this could be beginning right at this very moment, soon a very real thing to hold in
my arms. Dread unlike any dream could shove on me fills all of me.
"They're just going to kill it," I sob. "No matter what we do."
"What?" He asks gently.
"Our baby."
Peeta shakes his head. "That won't happen."
"Yes it will."
"I promise you, it won't."
I wish he would stop it. Stop promising things that wouldn't ever happen, that were out of
our control. I'm sick of it all.
"Katniss, do you honestly want to have a baby?" Peeta asks me.
I squeeze my eyes shut and hold onto Peeta as my anchor. But death, as always, is behind
my eyelids, flickering images of my memory, dreams, and imagination.
"I don't know," my voice cracks.
Peeta brushes my hair aside and sighs. "We can talk about it later. Now maybe we should
get some sleep?"
"I don't know if I'll be able to."
"I'll stay up with you until you do."
And there we lay, silent, close, the heaviness of our life nearly drowning us, until I've finally
fallen asleep.

The next afternoon, while Peeta's at the bakery, I go over to Haymitch's house. Ever since
Rory won, Hazelle hasn't needed money with keeping house for Haymitch, but Peeta and I
found a suitable replacement for her. Not quite as good, I'd say in my biased opinion, but at
least it didn't reek.
I find Haymitch at the kitchen table, polished but still full of pocket-marks from his knife. A
brown bottle is in one hand, and a piece of paper is in another.
"What's that?" I ask him.
Haymitch glances up at me. "A letter."
"You have a pen pal?" I snort.
"Not really, but the victors sometimes like to keep in-touch between the Games and tour,"
Haymitch replies. "This one is from Finnick Odair."
That name sends up an indignant flare in me, more so than before. The dance we shared
and our conversation still haven't quite left me, and with my talk with Peeta last night, the
subject is sore for me.
"What's he have to say?" I ask, the annoyance clear in my tone.
"Why don't we go for a walk?" Haymitch asks.
I raise and eyebrow, because "let's go for a walk" in the Victor Village was equivalent to
"let's get out of our houses so we can talk about how to bring down the Capitol." But I
agree and we walk away from our small little community quietly. I'm curious about what
that Finnick Odair could possibly have to say to Haymitch, and why I would need to hear it.
"So what's this about Haymitch?" I ask him when we're far down enough.
"Finnick sent me a letter for me to talk to you," Haymitch says. "It's about what happened
that last night in the Capitol, when he danced with you."
"And he sent it to you and not me?"
"He couldn't send it the traditional way," Haymitch answers. "And he figured I could talk
some sense into you."
"Into getting pregnant?" I practically bite at the words.
Haymitch sighs. "You know Finnick's reputation. Well, he isn't as slimy as you'd think he is.
And when it comes to secrets of the Capitol, he knows more than anyone. You see, all of his
lovers like to tell him things, secrets. One of them concerned you."
"Me?"
"Yes, and he was trying to warn you about it before, without directly saying it, but I guess
with you, there's no way to get you to do anything but hitting you over the head with it,"
Haymitch says. "Katniss, you need to get pregnant now, by whoever you want, because
otherwise, the Capitol will do it for you."
My gut seems to jolt in my stomach. "What do you mean?"
"This time, if you aren't pregnant by the next time we're at the Capitol, the man who gets
to be the father of your child will go to the highest bidder," Haymitch says.
The meaning finally sinks in. President Snow will be selling my body in hopes to both get a
profit and continue the show of Peeta and I by adding in a child. One that, in the future,
could perhaps be discovered isn't my husband's, adding in drama. Or simply sending it into
the Games will be enough.
"I can never quite keep up with what's going on with you and Peeta, but I'm sure you'd
rather he be the father than anyone from the Capitol," Haymitch finishes.
I think of all the men at the Capitol Peeta's had to save me from dancing, with their
grasping hands and feeling fingers. And countless more whose gaze drifted over me like I
was something on the menu. Any one of them, I'm sure now, would have no problem
essentially raping me. Anything to get a bit of the girl on fire.
We're in town now. I'm so queasy I have to stop and breathe. Haymitch pauses and waits
for me.
"Why didn't he just tell me?" I wonder.
Haymitch shrugs. "Probably just trying to save you this agony, hope you'd get there on your
own."
I start walking again, my legs numb. If I was scared on our wedding night, I'm terrified
now. At least, when I thought Peeta was expecting it from me, I knew he would try to make
me comfortable. I always knew that he really loved me. But someone so vulgar as to buy
me? What respect would he have? None. And the thought of it, of another man besides
Peeta touching meit takes all of my power not to retch right now.
We come round to the bakery. Peeta's at the front counter, chatting happily with a customer
and he puts a loaf of bread into a brown paper bag. When his eyes turn to us, he smiles and
waves. I can't bring myself to respond. Immediately, his face plunges into worry. He calls
back and Jam takes over as he hangs up his apron and comes out.
"Well, sweetheart, I better go," Haymitch says and walks away.
Peeta glances for a moment at Haymitch, then he turns in concern to me.
"What is it Katniss?" He asks. "You're as pale as a ghost."
I lean into him, prepared to fall over. He keeps me steady, though, and I shudder as his
arms come around me, wondering if they aren't the only that will be holding me.
Finally, I pull away, but he wraps his arm around me as we begin walking down the street.
At the edge of town, where no one else walks, I'm finally able to tell him. As I do, the horror
of it hits me again and I begin crying. We stop walking again and I sink onto the ground, on
the grass by the sidewalk. As I can expect, Peeta's there beside me in an instant.
"No," Peeta's jaw clenches together and he holds my waist tighter. "No, I won't let it
happen."
"Then we have to have a baby," I say. "Peetait doesn't matter now whether or not we
want one. The Capitol is going to make sure I get pregnant. But I can't do it, not with
anyone but you."
"You won't," Peeta promises, wiping my cheek. "I swear those bastards won't lay a finger on
you."
I've never seen him like this. There's that anger I've sometimes seen in him, that
protection, that devotion and love, but I think if I were ever to see Peeta kill anyone
purposely, this would be the look in his eyes.
When my crying is done, Peeta and I go back home. Determinedly, without hesitation, he
leads me up to our bedroom. This time, it's different. While still being gentle, our love has
an urgency to it, an anger at the Capitol for what they're doing. It's not fine. It's not us.
Peeta had been right. They've tainted all of us.
My hands are on my face as I rock back and forth on the toilet seat.
No, I think to myself, Why?
I look down in my underwear, at the little red splotches that's indicated the beginning of
another period. This is number five. My fifth period since Peeta and I have been trying to
get pregnant. My chest compresses together. I'm still not pregnant. The Victory Tour begins
tomorrow. What am I going to do?
I finish up in the bathroom and go out the door back to our bedroom, where Peeta is
painting. I think it's a sunset, but it's still a little too early in the process to tell yet. I sit
down beside him, watching the yellows and reds and oranges swirl together.
"Katniss?" Peeta sets down his brush. "Is everything okay?"
I shake my head and look away from him. "I got my period again today."
He doesn't say anything at first. I glance up at him, his eyes shut tight, his body trembling.
Then he suddenly lets out a breath and relaxes.
"That's okay," his voice is strained. "We have two weeks on the Victory Tour, still."
"Peeta," I whisper. "It's too soon. Even if I did get pregnant there'd be no way to know until
after we come back."
"No," Peeta looks at me desperately. "They aren't going to do that to you. We're going to
find a way out of it. I meanwhat if I pay Snow? I'll pay the most money. I'll buy the night
with you."
"We may be wealthy in the districts, but we have nothing compared to the richest in the
Capitol," I say.
Peeta suddenly stands up and walks away from me. I bite down on my lip. I hate it when
Peeta's mad. Because if Peeta is upset, I know that the situation is bad. He realizes there is
no way out for us here. I'm going to be raped.
I get up and cross the room to him. I put my hand on his shoulder and he turns to me,
bringing me in close. He has that smell of paint on him, mixed with some linger bread scent.
I hold onto him as if he could, somehow save me.
"There has to be another way," Peeta whispers painfully.
"Maybe I should just figure out how to best deal with it," my throat gets sticky, my heart
thumps anxiously in my chest.
"But you shouldn't have to deal with this!" Peeta cries. "This whole thing is despicable. No
one deserves to be treated this way."
I bury my face deeper into him, and he presses his cheek against my hair. I don't ever want
him to let me go. Because I know that as soon as he does, someone else will have his
hands on me, and the thought is sending snakes all through my skin.
The powerlessness of our situation hits us completely, because we don't say anything else
about it. We just try to get through it as we always have. Together.

The next day we head out for the Victory Tour. The cameras come again. Rory's mostly
stayed to himself since coming home, and with the lenses on him once more, he's even
more reserved.
With the cameras, Morta Randall comes as well. I think she annoys Haymitch more than
Effie ever did, which is a feat I thought impossible to conquer. He glares at her as she
comes marching down the street with the cameras and curses, taking an extra long drink of
his whiskey. The ever-changing styles of the Capitol have resulted in Morta's lemon-colored
hair to now be in several large puffs rather than spikes.
Our foursome trudges down against the wind and snow to the train station, a miserable
bunch. Not even Peeta and I are able to lift everyone's spirits with our own romance show.
Peeta isn't being his usual charming self, and I always follow his lead when it comes to
acting for a camera.
The entire trip is depressing. Haymitch is drunk as usual, Peeta's upset over the inevitable
in the Capitol, I have a constant stomachache about it, and Rory is as quiet as he's been
since his name was reaped. Morta is her normal stony self, and so the only chipper bunch in
our party is Rory's prep team and stylist. They talk through our meals about the upcoming
fashions and hippest designers.
Rory recites his speeches flatly. He gets useless plaques he'll end up shoving in the
basement like Peeta and I did. Schedules of touring the districts and banquets keep us busy
and unable to talk to other victors, who for some reason are never invited to any of our
gatherings. The people are unmoved by Rory, but whenever Peeta and I make an
appearance they still get excited. Soon they learn to keep the two of us behind the scenes.
No word of rebellion. No new information learned. Peeta had been wrong. I'd managed to
stifle out any bit of uprising by marrying him, and in return I was going to get pregnant,
perhaps by Peeta, perhaps by a complete stranger, and then my child will die in The Hunger
Games.
After District 1, before we go to the Capitol, we have to make a fuel stop.
"Katniss, why don't we go outside?" Peeta asks me.
There's that look in his eyes again. The one that frightens me, because of his determination
to do something that is probably crazy. But I nod my head and take his hand in mine as we
stroll down past the tracks.
"What is it Peeta?" I ask.
"You're not going to go through with it," Peeta says. "I have a plan."
"Unless this involves somehow getting me three months pregnant, I don't think it'll work," I
say sourly.
"Actually, it does," Peeta replies calmly.
My eyebrows fold down and I turn to him to explain to me more.

"Everything's set," Peeta whispers to me as he takes his seat.
"You sure?" I ask.
He nods, takes my hand in his and kisses the back of it. Then, the show begins.
Rory's tries a little bit harder in this interview with Caesar Flickerman. Morta gave him a
talking-to just before coming on about how much the Capitol interview meant. That they
deserved a better show than what he was giving the districts. But Caesar makes the
interview better than the mayors of the districts made the ceremonies, and Rory gets by.
"Now before close this interview, I've been asked by Peeta Mellark if he and Katniss could
come up here to make an announcement," Caesar says. He turns to where we sit. "Peeta?
Katniss? Care to join me up on stage?"
Peeta has to bring me up there, because I'm too nervous to move out of my seat. When
we're up on stage Peeta wraps his arm around my waist, grinning as Caesar greets us. I
pretend to hide a smile as well.
"So, Peeta what's this news that's so important you had to steal the limelight from Rory?"
Caesar asks.
"Well, we wanted everyone here to be the first to hear the good news," Peeta says. "You
see, we've just found out that Katniss is having a baby."
The cheers that erupt from the crowd are deafening. I laugh and squeeze Peeta tight around
the waist as Caesar shouts congratulations. Peeta's lips are on mine then, and I'm aware of
what we've done. Lies, lies, we can never seem to escape them. But this one we do have
planned out. I am pregnant, so I won't be sold tonight. When we get home, we'll announce
my miscarriage, and try again. This will work.
At the party in President Snow's mansion tonight we get a lot of congratulations from people
we've met but don't remember. Peeta and I keep our arms around one another, still too
afraid to let each other go. When asked if I'd like to dance, Peeta always gives a joke, but
says that I'm not exerting myself because of the baby. The truth is, neither of us trust these
people anymore.
Rory doesn't mind the spotlight being taken from him. In fact, he seems relieved that most
of the attention is on Peeta, the "baby", and myself. Although I'm wishing we had a lot less
attention when people randomly start touching my stomach. Peeta and I learn now for us to
face each other and embrace so no one reaches out for feeling a baby kick.
As the party dies down, I smile as our group begins to head out to the doors. Peeta is the
only man I'll be sleeping with tonight.
"Excuse me Katniss," Morta Randall's dreaded voice comes from behind.
Peeta and I stop to turn and face her.
"Katniss, you need to come with me please," Morta says.
"Why?" Peeta asks defensively.
"She has requirements of her to fill," Morta answers him coldly.
My stomach plummets. Requirements. Forced prostitution, more like it.
Peeta stares her steadily in the eyes. "I'm afraid due to the baby-"
"Oh, Peeta, if you're so worried about that fake baby, you'll be in for an excruciatingly
lonely nine months," Morta replies. "Katniss, you need to come with me now."
I've lost the ability to feel my limbs. Peeta keeps me up, but he doesn't have anything else
to say. We tried, but we failed. Of course the Capitol would know I wasn't pregnant. So they
wouldn't let a handsome sum escape from them.
"Katniss, come with me," Morta says. "We wouldn't want another misfortune to happen,
would we?" She glances over at Rory, standing behind us.
Rory. Prim. My mother. Gale. Vick. Posy. Hazelle. Peeta's family. Maybe even Peeta himself.
Finally, I'm able to take a step away from Peeta.
"No," he struggles, grasping onto my hand.
The tears fill my eyes as I step up to kiss him. "I'm sorry. But you know, I only love you."
His expression is filled with such grief, such absolute pain, I have to turn away. Morta's
waiting for me impatiently. I walk numbly to her and she leads me back into the president's
mansion. At the top of the stairway I remember how Peeta waited for me to come out so we
could go to our hotel. Where he thought I would sign him off from my life forever, and how
he waited so long for me to love him back. Now, I was moving away from him, toward
another man I didn't even know, let alone love. One who wouldn't respect me, but only
treat me as his own sick slave.
But isn't that what we were to these people? Just objects for their own use? For most people
in the districts, their blood and sweat were used for these people's material pleasure. For
me, and now I realize probably others as well, we've become something even less, just
objects for their lust.
Morta opens the door to a room. The bed is big enough to fit twelve people, and filled with
so many more pillows than necessary. There is a balcony as well. I consider for a moment if
I could possibly climb out. Then I realize that if I escape, my family will be hurt.
"Based off of your husband's reaction, I know that you probably realize what you're to do
tonight," Morta says in an authoritative voice. "So now for some rules. No attacking your
suitor. We've had problems with this in the past, and it's never ended well for the victor.
You are to perform your best tonight. The better the victor is at this, the more money we
get later on. And lastly, you may not leave until I come and get you in the morning." Morta
pauses, then says. "Oh, yes. And President Snow has asked that you wear this."
Morta tosses me something. I hold it out and my stomach hardens. It's the exact same
outfit they left me to wear on my honeymoon, lacey and black and small. It seems to mock
me. As if, had I worn it the first time, I wouldn't be here now, wearing it for another man. I
would be with Peeta tonight instead. But I failed to listen, and I am now paying the price.
"You have fifteen minutes until your suitor will be here," Morta says. "Get yourself ready."
And with that, she leaves. The door is unlocked. I suppose I could bolt. But I stand
grounded, the dress in my hand. It takes a few minutes before I get the ability to move
again out of my paralyzing fear of tonight.
As I begin to undress, I make up my own rules for myself.
I will not react to his touch. No matter what he does, I will remain silent and cold. He won't
get pleasure out of my pain, and I will certainly not respond in any way like I do with Peeta.
I will not make any move toward him. He will have to do this. I am not going to encourage
it.
I will not fall asleep in his arms. When everything is done, I will go to my side of the bed
and sleep there. If I have to, I will wait until he is asleep and move again. The only one who
will get to hold me like that is Peeta.
Despite this calmness in my head, my own personal little ways to rebel, I end up throwing
up twice in the toilet. I don't wash out my mouth though. Not for this bastard. My heart
speeds and my breathing is rapid. I don't know how I'm going to get through this.
Then, the door opens and my suitor steps in.
My eyes narrow in recognition. Really, having this man be the one to do this to me is almost
too cruel. After all, he's the reason I have nightmares and why I'm even standing here in
the first place like a slab of meat.
The man who has bought me for the evening is the Head Gamemaker, Plutarch
Heavensbee.
If I had anything left in my stomach, I'd probably throw up again. I'm not even hiding the
disgust on my face. My breathing becomes anxious even though I try to fight it and
remember my resolves, not to let him know my pain.
"Good evening Katniss," Plutarch says in a neutral tone. He doesn't even really look at me.
Coward. Such a coward, unable to even take on what he's about to do.
I don't reply as he crosses the room, staying a distance from me, and then picks up a silky
robe. He examines it in his hand for a moment and then tosses it at me. I catch it in
surprise. Hewanted me to cover myself?
"It's cold outside," Plutarch explains. "Put it on."
"Outside?" I ask, confused.
"Yes, just out on the balcony."
I toss the robe away. "No need to romance me. It won't make this any easier on me, in
fact, it will probably make it worse. Just get your money's worth."
Plutarch steps up with a sigh and takes the robe from the floor, giving it to me again. "I
didn't come here to do what you think, Katniss."
"Then what did you come here for?" I'm suspicious. Who would spend a large amount of
money for a night with someone, and not come to have sex?
"The balcony?" he asks.
I slip my arms through the sleeves and knot the belt, following some distance behind
Plutarch. Puffs of our breath hang in the frigid night sky before disappearing, only to be
replaced again. Plutarch stands there silently for several minutes, as do it. I shiver, freezing
in the winter night.
"Katniss," Plutarch begins. "I know you probably hate me, and with good reason. But I'm
not your enemy."
"I'm not sure what you are."
"No, you don't," Plutarch says. "Let me explain. You've started a fire, Katniss, whether you
meant to or not. Now is the time for us to strike. But we need you to help us. I need you to
come with me, and help lead the rebellion."
I take several steps back. I don't trust him. He's from the Capitol. What would he know of
rebellion? He could be taking this opportunity to do something worse to me than buying me
for a night. I can't believe him; he's a Gamemaker. He's put my life on the line before, and I
wasn't going to let him manipulate me further.
Then, suddenly, a hovercraft materializes just above the balcony. I freeze as I see it, my
eyes widening. Plutarch sees the panic in them and tries to calm me, beaconing me to come
to him.
Does he think I'm stupid? I turn right away and begin to run back into the room, but I feel
something sharp on my arm. I look down and see that a needle is sticking out of my arm.
Fog creeps into my mind and my limbs stop listening to my command. They flail and fall,
and I follow into the darkness.

I'm lying on a padded table, my thoughts incoherent. I struggle to remember what last
happened. The Victory Tour. Plutach Heavensbee. The balcony. The hovercraft. The needle.
I jolt up, which results in my head pounding. I press my hand up to my temple, groaning.
"She lives," Haymitch's gravelly voice speaks up.
I look over and see Haymitch sitting there in a chair, hands folded over a bottle across his
stomach. My eyes narrow. What is Haymitch doing here?
"Haymitch, what's going on?" I ask him cautiously.
"Don't worry sweetheart, you're okay," Haymitch says. "I told Plutarch not to do it the way
he did, but he was sure he could convince you we're all on the same side."
"What side?"
"The rebels."
I give him a confused expression and he says, "Mind if I explain?"
I clasp my hands in my lap and give Haymitch my attention now.
He explains to me that behind my back, workings have been going on. Neither Peeta or I
knew about them because we were already a threat to the Capitol. If there were any clues
to our being in league with rebels, we would have no hope of surviving. Then, he tells me
that Rory winning was not just by chance. His reaping was to frighten me into having a
child, but through the Games, Rory was always meant to be the winner. The rodents were
always heading toward the Career's food, the lake monster saved Rory from Tristan killing
him. This was all so the media attention would keep me in closer reins and then I would
have to come back to the Capitol from the Victory Tour, which would give them ample
opportunity to sell me off. It turns out I've been on the most desirable list since I came out
of the arena, but the Capitol usually waited a few years to increase the want and tension of
a victor, which got them a better sum the first time. After I passed out on the balcony, I
was taken onto the hovercraft which belongs to District 13, which is indeed still alive. And
they're ready to help out the rebellion. We're heading there right now.
"Where's Peeta?" I ask slowly.
Haymitch shakes his head and my heart plummets.
"After we got back to the Training Center, he lost it," Haymitch says. "He left without telling
me to go and find you. Protect you or whatever. When the hovercraft came for me and
Rory, he was gone. We went searching for him, but then the Capitol's hovercraft started
chasing us, and we just got away."
"You left him," I hiss.
"There was nothing-"
This is all Haymitch can get out before I'm clawing at his face, screaming and crying. He
pushes back, but never fights me, never makes a move to harm me.
"You need to get him back!" I'm yelling. "You need to turn this thing around and go get
him!"
Haymitch slams his hand down on a button and in a few minutes I feel hands around me.
We continue to shout at each other, obscenities and insults. I'm pinned back down onto the
padded table, where they force me into unconsciousness once more.
Doctors and nurses hover around me now. They scribble on clipboards and talk in concerned
voices and hook me up to medicine. I let them treat me, but I'm dead.
Peeta.
His name sends numbness all through me. The medicine they give me dulls my senses, is
supposed to make the pain go away. I suppose it does. But it doesn't take away the
hollowness in me, the place that Peeta fills. Its now I realize just how much of me he did fill.
More than I ever thought.
People come to me. Doctors, professed rebels, but I don't know any of them. So when I
wake up and I see his face, I fight against the drugs again, trying to come back to the
familiarity of before, to have something to grasp onto.
"Gale?"
He smiles. "Catnip."
"What are you doing here? Why aren't you in Twelve?" I ask him.
He gives me a painful look. I gulp, the way his face has fallen makes me more frightened. I
know he's not going to be cheering me up as I'd hoped. If anything, I should be running
from him, from what he's about to tell me.
He shakes his head, "Because it's not there anymore."
A/N Deja-vu anyone?
Yes, when I thought I could finish this before MJ came out (ha!) I'd planned to
end it like this, so what happened in MJ could still work. Now...I don't know what
to do. If I should go with my original plan or work off of MJ. Ugh. I literally
slammed my head against the wall because of this and my roommate had to make
sure I was ok.
Meh.
Edit: Sorry if I confused you all. I mean, I don't know if this should be done, put
the status as COMPLETE as I had planned to do before MJ came out (as in, this
would be the last chapter if I am still not clear enough because had I finished
before August 24, this would have been the end), or if I should go on, probably
blending MJ with my own stuff that I right now don't really have much of an idea
of.
A/N Yes, this is going to continue. I PM'd some of you who reviewed (later on I
got a little lazy about it :P) about an I Do forum I set up to discuss the to end or
not to end thing. I got some good feedback and I put up my explanation and
things you should know about I Do. For the sake of not having a long author's
note, head over there. You can get to it through my profile.
Drip.
I stare fixated on the drop of water, dangling, clinging on to the pipe, only to watch it fall
and splash into a puddle below.
Drip.
I hug my knees, trying to stay together.
Drip.
I plead with the water to hang on, to stay in the pipe, but gravity does its work, and the
drop falls onto the ground. No matter what how much I will it, the water always comes out.
Drip.
The Capitol does in fact have Peeta, they told me. Plutarch's sources confirmed it. He's
dead. They haven't told me he is, but I'm sure he's dead in punishment of what happened.
Drip.
I watch the new tear forming. This one seems stronger. It seems like it will make it, that it
won't fall.
Drip.

They found me. They made me go back into the crazy room. They don't call it that. They
call it the "psychological recovery center". But everyone knows it's the crazy room, even the
patients there.
An overly-smiley nurse puts me back into bed. I blink and look across the way toward
Finnick Odair.
I'm still not really sure why he's here. I've been told that District Four was put under attack
the night that District Twelve was bombed and ultimately destroyed. Only, Four had been
expecting it, so they were able to fight back. The Capitol sent in foot soldiers, which the
citizens of Four were able to fight against.
Finnick, it turns out, has been on the rebel's side the entire time, feeding them secrets. He
fought against the Capitol when they attacked, even led. Now he's here in the crazy room
with me.
He constantly works at a rope, knotting and unknotting. Different ones. Square knots, sailor
knots, slip knots, nooses. His eyes in front of him, working it out. I stare at him, and after a
while, he notices.
"Enjoying the show?" He asks me.
"Only thing happening here," I reply. I pause then ask, "Finnickdid President Snow do it to
you? Did he sell you?"
Finnick's eyes dart around, and then he answers, "Yes."
And suddenly, I'm pitying him.
Finnick is taken away for his one-on-one session with the doctor when Haymitch comes in. I
haven't seen him all this time in District 13, because he was being put sober completely.
Here where alcohol was considered a waste unless it was used for medical purposes, they
didn't tolerate Haymitch's alcoholism. To have him away was a relief to me, but now it
seems he's back.
I fold my arms and look away from him. I haven't forgiven him for losing Peeta. He should
have known. He should have protected him when I couldn't.
"They you want you to be their Mockingjay you know," Haymitch sits beside me.
Oh, yes, they've told me. I've stared at them with blank eyes as they explained that the
rebellion needed a symbolic leader to pick up the spirits of the downtrodden people. They
told me how everyone already loved me, how I could change the world. Even President
Alma Coin, with her perfectly styled grey hair and greyer eyes, came into the crazy room to
tell me how important I am.
"At this point, they'd give you anything you asked for you know, if you'd just be their
Mockingjay," Haymitch carries on, even as I refuse to acknowledge him.
Silence. But he still doesn't leave.
"He's still alive, sweetheart."
And then, he stands and goes back to wherever it is he came from.
Still alive. I refuse to believe it. Because if he's alive, he's being tortured. Because of me.
Because I was the stupid Mockingjay and they'll hurt me through him. Air his torture, make
me go insane. The thought of him dead is better than that. To just have it be over, as it
should have been for both of us when we were reaped.
We should both be dead.
Finnick comes back into the room, gripping his rope tightly. The ever-so helpful nurses pass
out our pills, making sure we all swallow them instead of stashing for a suicide.
After an hour of staring at the wall I say to Finnick, "Haymitch told me Peeta's still alive.
Ridiculous, isn't it?"
Finnick stops his knotting and looks at me strangely. "Of course he's still alive. That's what
the Capitol does. They use them against us."
"Them?"
"Annie and Peeta."
"Who's Annie?"
Finnick's eyes are suddenly filled with tears. "Annie, Annie Cresta. She won the Hunger
Games a few years ago. Sheshe"
The pain there is clear who she is.
"She's your Peeta," I whisper. "And the Capitol has her."
Finnick nods and goes back to his rope, muttering to himself. So Finnick wasn't a play boy
as I'd assumed. He's a man that's been used and sold, who's in love with a girl who,
somehow, the Capitol has.
Now, him being in the crazy room with me makes sense.
During Reflection, Prim comes to see me as she always does. It's really the only time she's
able to come. They have her schedule inked out on her arm so she doesn't have any other
time.
"Hi Katniss," Prim sits down by me. Even in my insanity, she's not afraid of me.
"How was your day?" I ask, attempting to be normal for her sake, as I always do, but
tonight it's harder.
"Good," Prim answers. "You know, Rory's been put in my medicine class. He says he doesn't
want to hurt anyone anymore, but he wants to heal them." She pauses and whispers, "He's
not very good yet."
I laugh at her guilty expression.
"I'm helping him though," Prim says. "I think he just needs a teacher."
"I'm sure you'll be wonderful at that," I say.
Prim looks down and then back up at me. "When will you be able to live with me and
Mother, Katniss? You seem to be getting better."
I shrug. "I don't know. Soon, maybe. Haymitch said they would give me anything if I
became the Mockingjay. Anything."
"What would you want?" Prim asks me.
"Peeta."
Prim nods her head. "What if they don't get him? Will you not be the Mockingjay?"
"I don't know," I say. "But I'd do anything to get him safe again."

In the morning, Gale is there to escort me to the meeting with the President and her
advisors. He's become rather important after he saved the survivors of District Twelve. So
much that even at how young he is, he's allowed in confidential meetings and is able to
formulate his own opinions. He even helps Beetee and Wiress with their designs for new
weapons.
"So, are you finally going to be the Mockingjay?" Gale asks me.
"I have a few demands," I say. I thought about them each carefully last night. I even wrote
them down.
"Tip about Coin, maybe don't use the word 'demand,'" Gale says. "Shelikes her control."
"Only one is a demand," I say. "The others, I'll be willing to negotiate on."
Gale looks at me painfully. "Well, I don't think it takes someone like Beetee to guess what
that demand is."
"No," I say quietly. "Probably not."
Then, I ask, "Do you know what happened with Annie Cresta?"
"The crazy victor from Four?"
"She's crazy?"
"According to people here," Gale says. "When the Capitol invaded District Four, there was
no way they could go and get through to Finnick, the leader, and they were losing the
battle. So, they took Annie, because they knew that if they had her, Finnick would lose it
and they'd win."
"Did they?" I ask.
"No. District 13 sent in a replacement general in time," Gale answers. "That's why Finnick's
here. He was in the hovercraft with you, didn't you notice?"
"You saw me. Of course I didn't," I say a little too harshly.
We're here and Gale opens the door, staring down at me. I turn from him and face
Command. Coin is at the head, her hands neatly folded. Her gaze is steady on mine as I
come in and sit down.
"So, Katniss, what do you have to say to us?" Coin asks.
"I'll be your Mockingjay," I say. "But I need a few things first."
Coin purses her lips and says, "Tell us what they are, and we'll see."
"First," I say, "I want to live with my mother and sister, even if I am mentally deranged."
"That may be arranged," Coin replies. "As long as you do not become a threat to yourself or
anyone else."
I nod my head, accepting it. "Next, I want to go back to District 12, to see it for myself."
"That would be too costly," Plutarch speaks up. "The invisible hovercrafts, the security, to
make sure the Capitol isn't anywhere near!"
"I need to see it," I say. "I justI need to know it's gone. I can't even explain it really. But I
need to see it for myself. It was my home. I want to look at it again, to say good-bye."
"We'll discuss it," Coin allows. "What's next on your list?"
"I kill Snow," I say simply.
Coin smirks. "When the time comes, I'll flip you for that one."
I nod my head, knowing that for my last demand, I need to be lenient. And while I want to
kill him, as long as he ends up dead I'll be just fine.
"Is that all?" Coin asks.
"No," I swallow. "This last one is really the only thing I need. Without it, I won't be the
Mockingjay."
I look around, all of their attention on me.
"Annie Cresta and my husband both need to be retrieved from the Capitol and brought back
here."
And immediately, the room is in an uproar. Plutarch starts going off on costs and dangers
and covers that will be blown. Others call me selfish and ungrateful. Coin keeps staring at
me. I don't drop my gaze. I want her to know that I will not back down from this one, and
I'll need it if she wants her Mockingjay.
"Gale, please take Katniss back to the psychological recovery center while we discuss this,"
Coin finally says.
Gale escorts me silently. When we reach the door, though, he says, "I'll make sure they
listen to your demand."
I blink up at him, overcome for a moment. Then, I hug him. He hugs me back, but it's
hesitant and careful.
"Thank you," I whisper.
He lets me go, not looking at me, and goes back to Command.
I hadn't the heart to tell Finnick about my demand in case they didn't agree. But how could
they not? I won't be the Mockingjay otherwise. And after everything they did to persuade
me to join them, I know they need me.
They deliberate for a long time. Past lunch, and into the afternoon. But then Gale comes
back to get me. He won't tell me anything, saying that he might get demoted if he does. So
I decide to just wait the walk.
I sit back down before Command. None of the members seem particularly pleased. Only
Coin keeps an even face. I try to keep myself from appearing nervous, but I am. If I don't
get Peeta this way, then I probably never will.
"Katniss," Coin says. "We expect you as the Mockingjay to do what we want you to. If you
agree to our terms, then you have to take our advice and do whatever it is we have you
do."
I nod once, signifying my understanding.
"You may move in with your mother and sister," Coin says. "We will put you on our list of
candidates for Snow's executioner. However, we will not allow for your trip to District
Twelve, in order to pay for your demand of rescuing Peeta and Annie."
I breathe out in relief. I nod my head vigorously. "I agree. I'll do it, I'll be your Mockingjay."
I move out of the crazy room and in with my mother and sister. I know, or at least I hope,
that this stay will be temporary. Peeta I'm sure will have to be in the hospital for a few
weeks, although I hope for not too long. But once he gets better, we'll get our own room.
Thinking of this is what helps me breathe.
The next day, I'm to meet Plutarch for my make-over after breakfast. When I go down to
the dining hall, Gale is eating by himself. Hesitant, I approach him. He looks up at me with
grimness. I sit down quietly.
"They're heading out the day after tomorrow," Gale tells me. "In case you wanted to know."
"Thanks," I reply.
He tears his slice of bread into pieces, keeping his gaze off of me. "You really meant it then,
didn't you?"
"What?"
"What you said after we kissed. Just before you left."
"Oh," I say, recalling how I'd professed my love for Peeta. "Yeah. Yeah, I did."
"I'd hoped you were just trying to make me angry," Gale says. "But theneverything that's
happened"
I look down at my mush of a breakfast. I didn't like the guilt he was making me feel. But I
always knew that somehow, I'd be hurting someone. Only now, I couldn't really make
myself care as I once did. I'm hurting myself by trying to deny the fact that Peeta is the one
I need.
So I say, "I didn't mean to hurt you, Gale. I'm sorry it happened. But I just can't help it."
"I know," Gale replies, then stands and murmurs a farewell, then leaves.
I finish my breakfast and head down to where I am to be made-over. From the grey, dismal
appearance that is always hovering around District 13, I don't know how in the world they'll
make me pretty. But then again, Fulvia, Plutarch's assistant, has managed to keep her
appearance up, somehow.
Fulvia meets me half-way there, chattering nervously for some reason. She talks about the
propos she has planned, and how Wiress and Beetee are preparing to take over the
airwaves and broadcast them to everyone. I'll be the star, promoting the rebellion. It all
sounds exhausting and something I wouldn't be good at. This is something Peeta should be
doing, not me.
Fulvia opens the door to me, and there is my prep team.
"Venia! Flavius! Octavia!" I cry, expecting their embraces and chatter.
All three of them stare at me with wide eyes and shifty glances. Something is wrong. My
prep teamthey adored me. I'm not sure why, but they did. Then why were they acting this
way?
"How did you get here?" I question them uneasily.
Octavia suddenly bursts into tears. Venia looks down unhappily at her fellow companion.
Flavius keeps his gaze on the floor.
"Plutarch had them retrieved," Fulvia answers in a constrained tone.
"They were kidnapped."
Fulvia's face takes on a look of panic and quickly she denies, "Oh, no!"
I turn to my prep team. "Did you come willingly to District Thirteen?"
"No!" Octavia wails. "They took me right as my nail polish was drying!"
I take a closer look at them. Hair limp, dulled from lack of coloring. Thinner, weary,
frowning. Their clothes, once the epitome of fashion in Capitol terms, are dirty and ragged.
"What did you do to them?" I ask Fulvia in a low hiss.
Fulvia's weak mask fully cracks now. "We didn't know! Coin took them! The guards were
under her command. We didn't know until we got them yesterday what had happened!"
"What did they do to you?" I ask my prep team.
"Starved us," Venia answers grimly, "Put us in chains, we even got hit a few times. It was
unbearable!"
Octavia blubbers.
"Are you being taken care of now?"
Flavius nods his head. "Yes. Plutarch set things straight."
I let out a huff. "Good. It won't happen again, or else you just tell me and I'll take care of
it."
Flavius' eyes fill with grateful tears, and I have no idea what Octavia is crying about now.
I'm angry, angry at Coin for letting her guards slip and be so cruel. Then with a nauseating
thought, I wonder if Coin told her guards to treat them like this. I frown and approach my
team, hugging them each gently, wiping away some tears. Somehow, I always seem to end
up comforting them. Although this time, I find I don't mind as much.
They solemnly take on the task at hand, leaving behind their bubbly chatter for silence.
The whole point of this make-over is for me to become natural. Under Cinna's hand, they've
had more practice than other prep teams. My nails are filed, but short. My hair is brushed,
but done in my simple braid. And now they try to add a grimy beauty to it, so I can be seen
a fighting heroine. Some dirt (which is actually just make-up) smudged across my cheek.
An outfit they told me Cinna designed. Body armor, flexible and lightweight, but extremely
protective. And as I look at my arms, noticing the curve, I see Cinna's given me wings. I am
the Mockingjay.
"Where is Cinna?" I ask. "Didn't they take him, too?"
"Why, he's been gone since after your wedding," Venia says. "Family business."
I catch Fulvia's eyes, though, and know that isn't it at all. But I don't dare ask in front of my
already nervous and emotional prep team. I will, however, find out.
The part I dread more than my makeover comes. The cameras. We shoot for hours and
hours. I pose awkwardly for snapshots. Then comes the film, so I have to repeat a variety
of lines as I cough on smoke. It goes on and on. So I don't ruin my make-up, I'm only
allowed to have water squirted in my mouth.
I don't get lunch and I don't get a break. It's exhausting and demanding, having to twist my
body in unnatural poses and speak words that aren't my own. When my stomach rumbles,
I've reached my threshold of tolerance.
"That's all I can do today," I say to Fulvia, who's been directing it all.
She sees me and nods her head, letting me go on.
"We'll edit the videos and pictures tomorrow," Fulvia tells me. "The day after that you can
review what we've done."
I breathe in relief that I'll have tomorrow off.
"How was yourthing today?" Prim asks during Reflection, unsure of what exactly it was. I
was still unsure.
"Fine," I lie.
Prim narrows her eyes at me.
"Okay, it was awful," I say. "But it's getting Peeta back. And Annie. I can't really be
complaining about that, now can I?"
"I suppose not," Prim says. "What else are you going to have to do as the Mockingjay?"
"I don't know," I answer, sighing.
Prim brushes my hair back. "You'll do fine. Everyone loves you, you know."
"They love Peeta," I say. "And he loves me. That's all."
"That's not true," Prim says. "I love you more than anything, but before the reaping, well,
to be honest Katniss, you weren't very popular."
I laugh. She goes on. "I guess you just needed your chance to prove yourself, and then
people understood why Peeta and I love you."
Maybe. But whatever the reason, I am the Mockingjay now.

The propos are ready the day that the crew leaves to rescue Peeta. Finnick wanted to go,
but they wouldn't let him. I guess being in the crazy room makes someone lose their
credibility. I'm glad for the propos today, so I can distract myself as I realize that soon, I'll
either have Peeta, or he'll be dead.
There are a variety of people at the showing of the propos. I know some peopleLeevy,
Beetee, Wiress, Haymitch, Plutarch, Fulvia, my prep teamwhile others I may recognize
their faces, but that's it.
Fulvia bounces happily and begins with the images. I flush and slide down in my seat as I
see the awkward poses, the forced drama, my strange facial expressions, the cheesy
slogans. The films are worse. My lines are forced and unnatural, the situations bizarre and
unreal.
The screen goes black, and Fulvia takes a bow.
"That," Haymitch says, "Was a bunch of crap."
Fulvia appears shocked. I grimly have to agree.
"These are normal people fighting," Haymitch says. "As Katniss' mentor, I know one thing
about her more than anything else: she does her best work undirected."
"Well, what are we supposed to do?" Fulvia shrieks, flushing. "March her off into battle?"
Haymitch raises his eyebrows.
"It makes sense," Beetee says. "Whenever I personally have be influenced by Katniss, it's
when she's acting as herself. We can't create war in a studio. She has to fight in it."
"She's pregnant though," Octavia pipes in.
"Oh," I look to the floor guiltily. "Idon't have a baby, Octavia. I'm not pregnant."
Some, especially my prep team, are shocked. Others seemed to have known somehow that
I wasn't pregnant. Octavia has tears sliding down her cheeks again. I'm beginning to regret
that lie we told now.
"It'll take us days to plan out an attack," Fulvia says.
"Plan?" Haymitch asks. "No, no planning. After Peeta's back and settled, send her off to see
some action."
"We need her alive," Plutarch says.
"I think Haymitch is right," I say. "And if I do die, well, just make sure you get good footage
of it."
There's a long silence and Fulvia sighs. "Well, that's what we have then. We'll have to wait."
"That's it?" I ask. "II can't just be done. I'm losing my mind waiting! I need something
anything to do."
Fulvia purses her lips. "I was going to do a segment on you and Peeta, but I was planning
on waiting until he got back for that."
"Do it now," I plead. "Have me do my part now."
"Fine," Fulvia says. "Get your prep team-"
"Nope," Haymitch says. "Natural, remember?"
So I remain myself as most everyone heads out and the cameras come again. Haymitch
stays, his arms crossed as he watches not me, but Fulvia and her crew.
"Now Katniss, I just want you to talk about your relationship with Peeta," Fulvia says.
"Whatever you want to share, please, do tell us. This is just for you to talk."
"I want to be honest," I say to Fulvia. "Can I do that?"
"Of course," Fulvia says. "It's what we want."
The camera turns on, and Fulvia gives me the nod.
"Despite what most in Panem think," I say. "I was not in love with Peeta Mellark during our
Games, or after that, or during our wedding. At least, I'd never realized it. But I am in love
with him, I realized that a few months ago. In fact, it might have been those Games that
assured I would someday realize I loved him. Even then, I hated the thought of losing him,
risked my own life against it. Maybe I did love him but was too stubborn to know it. Maybe
even part of me loved him that day with the bread."
I pause, this being much more difficult than I thought.
"What are you talking about Katniss? Bread?" Fulvia asks.
So I tell the story, the first time I ever spoke of what happened that dark day. I even give
my own secret name for Peeta"the boy with the bread."
"Then the next day at school, I saw his black eye and looked away, when my eyes fell on
the first dandelion of the spring. And I knew I could survive. Because he gave me hope.
He's always given me hope, even when I didn't appreciate it." I smile to myself. "He's the
dandelion."
The crew, Fulvia, me, we all have tears in our eyes. Haymitch's stay dry, but I know from
that look he's missing Peeta, too.
I stand and say. "I'm done."
For some reason, I sit by Haymitch now.
"I should have kept a better eye on him," Haymitch says. "And you shouldn't have made
that foolish boy fall in love with you in the first place. It's both our faults."
I don't know why, maybe because I need someone who misses Peeta as much as I do,
someone else that loves him, but I let it go.
Finnick rises from the back of the auditorium then and announces he wants to say
something as well.
"Oh, Finnick, I don't think-" Fulvia begins.
"You'll want to hear this," Finnick says seriously, almost too sanely.
Fulvia sighs and nods, gesturing him to take my spot.
And there, Finnick lets it all out. About how he had been prostituted when he was first
sixteen, about the dirty deals President Snow has made with his victors, and what he's done
to those how have disobeyed. Although I know some of this, it still sickens me. I remember
my own terror, imagine Finnick at only sixteen, sold for the first time. Finnick made it clear
his first time was as a sold teenager and despite how he loves someone more than anything
in the world, he can't love her enough because of what Snow has done.
Then, comes the parts I haven't heardall of Finnick's secrets, whispered to him between
sheets in the heat of passion. Of poison, Snow's weapon of choice to get rid of his enemies.
Poison he's drunk before, but not without getting antidote first, but leaving unhealed sores
in his mouth producing fresh blood. And the genetically enhanced roses to cover the smell.
And right away, I get smell them. I smell him and shudder.
I hope Fulvia doesn't wait to air Finnick's testimony.
At dinner, I see all of the Hawthornes but Gale. I sit with them, trying to smile my best,
because they all appear worried for some reason.
"Is Gale working late?" I ask Hazelle.
"Don't you know?" Vick asks me.
"Know what?" I look around.
Hazelle is the one to answer me.
"Gale went on the mission to save Peeta."
A/N I know it's been a lot of MJ summarization so far, but next chapter it gets
more original, I promise. I just felt like these parts were important to the point of
the story and I had to put them in to kind of get it all.

Sleep that night is impossible. I hadn't realized Gale was going. He hadn't been a risk for
me to lose before. Now, I could lose them both. My husband and my friend. The thought of
both of them out of my life is too much for me to deal with. So I took some medication that
forced me out of it for eight hours. Oblivion would seem to be better, but I face the same
problem as the first Victory Tour. Nightmares consume me, and I can't escape under the
drugs. Peeta's heart being pierced with a bullet. Gale's neck getting snapped. Running,
running to them, but never reaching them in time, only left slipping in their blood.
A rough hand retrieves me from the dreams and I start, blinking awake as I see Haymitch's
face before me.
"Finally," Haymitch grumbles. "They made it back."
I sit up. "All of them?"
"Yes," Haymitch responds. "Peeta's waking up from the gas they used to knock him out.
Gale's been shot in the arm, but he'll be fine."
I sigh out a breath of relief. "And Peeta's okay? He's healthy? How badly did they hurt him?"
"They didn't hurt him at all," Haymitch looks suspicious. "Not physically, at least. The
doctors plan on checking him when he wakes up. But that will take a while. Do you want to
see him first?"
I jump out of bed and follow Haymitch down the halls to the hospital ward. I pass a room
that has Gale in it, his arm wrapped up. He looks at me and I smile for him, but he just
looks back down.
Haymitch nods to the closed door of a room. Peeta. He's in there, he's safe. It's so
impossibly sweet to know that. I turn the knob and see him sitting on the edge of a bed
while a doctor checks his eyes. They both turn toward me. I take a moment to bring in the
image of Peeta, and I feel immediate relief in the truth of what Haymitch said. He's healthy
and whole.
"Peeta," I whisper with a suppressed sob.
He stands, his expression strange as he looks at me. I run toward him, wrap myself in his
embrace. Finally, finally, we're back together. This is right, this is how it's supposed to be. I
begin kissing him, his lips sealing back into me the hollowness of this past month without
him, missing him. I notice a difference, but he's just come out of being knocked out by gas
and from the Capitol. I'm just hungering again for his touch, to have proof he's back here
with me.
I hold his face in my hands. "I didn't know if I'd ever see you again."
He just keeps staring at me steadily, looking over my face. "Katniss."
"Yes," I say. "Yes, I'm here."
He must still be under the gas a little, because he's just staring at me blankly. Then, the
doctor interrupts and says I have to leave. I don't want to, but they need to make sure
Peeta's all right. So I reach up and kiss him one last time before leaving.
I routinely check back with the doctors to see how Peeta's doing. They refuse to tell me
anything, even though I'm his wife. They say they're running tests. They keep on running
tests all day. I never get to see him, they don't let me in.
I do, however, get to see Gale.
Despite his injury, he wants to get right back with Command. I catch him as he leaves the
hospital and I leave from checking in on Peeta again. When I call his name he stops and
waits for me to come by and see him.
"Thank you," I say. "For rescuing Peeta."
Gale shrugs. "I didn't like seeing you the way that you were. I thought getting him back
would be the only way to fix that."
"Thought?" I catch the word that holds some doubt.
"Didn't you notice he was a littledifferent?" Gale asks me.
"No," I say. "He had just come out from being under the gas."
"He was that way too when we first went through to get him. A little empty, right?"
No. No, he's the same. He's my Peeta. I want to deny this, but something in my throat
blocks it from coming. So I just turn on my heel and walk away from him. I go back to the
doctors again, to check on him again. Still nothing.
This goes past dinner and reflection. My mother tells me all she knows is the room that he'll
be staying in once the tests are done, but other than that, his condition is being kept from
all the medical staff but the top doctors and a few nurses.
At bedtime, I simply can't stand it anymore. When I hear my mother and Prim breathing
deeply, I slip out of bed and hurry down to the hospital. I remember the room my mother
said he would be in. I look for it, and when I find it, I hurry inside.
Peeta's staring up at the ceiling. He starts when he sees me and never quite relaxes. I stare
at him, determined to find the same person I left in the Capitol. I approach him to observe
him better.
"How were your tests?" I ask him.
He shrugs. "Fine, I guess."
I perch myself on the edge of his bed, brushing away some hair from his eyes. It's grown
out. He'll need it cut soon. It worries me that he doesn't lean in to my touch. He remains
motionless.
"What did they do?"
"Took blood samples, and brain scans," Peeta answers.
"And it took that long?"
"We were done by lunch."
I frown. "They didn't let me see you. They kept on saying you were being tested."
Peeta doesn't respond, just rests his head back on the pillow and looks away from me. I
swing my legs back onto the bed and lay down beside him. He doesn't open his arms. I lean
against his shoulder anyway, trying to just remember that he's alive. That's it, that's all that
matters. He's alive.
"I'm tired. I want to go to sleep," he says.
"Okay," I say, and reach up to him. He doesn't turn my way, so I end up kissing the corner
of his mouth. He closes his eyes and falls asleep.
I stay awake, watching his chest rise and fall, feeling his warmth, listening to his heartbeat.
He's here with me. I can sense all of him here. But why does this feel off? Why does it seem
they brought back the wrong man to me?
I try not to worry about it, blaming the doctors and medication, as I go to sleep.

"No!"
I open my eyes to the yell, and get pushed back as Peeta bolts from the bed. His eyes are
terrified, his muscles tense and up on his toes.
"Not you!"
"Peeta?" I ask, sitting up and standing.
"No!" He shouts. "Don't come near me! Don't you dare!"
"Peeta, it's me," I assure him. "Katniss."
He grips the sides of his head and jerks it from side to side violently. "No! No! No!"
I begin to walk over to him, my hand outreached, but when he sees me coming, he sprints
to the door and flings it open, running down the hall as I hurry to try and get him back. I
call his name, but that just makes him run faster. It's almost as if he's running for his life.
Someone must have seen our chase, because at the end of the hall there are doctors and
nurses poised to catch Peeta. They jab him with a needle and send in the serum. I run up
just in time for him to see me again. There's fear, terror in them.
"Please," he says to the doctors as he goes under, "Please, don't let her hurt me."
And then, he's out. Don't let her hurt me? I wonder. Why would I ever hurt Peeta?
Dr. Lawler, the one who has been in charge of Peeta's case, turns to me angrily. "How did
he see you?"
"I went in to see him," I explain. "We fell asleep. I woke up and he was running and trying
to get away from me." The shock of the situation has worn off and now, I'm the one who's
scared. "Why did he act like that?"
"We've just gotten back the test results," Dr. Lawler says, still a little irked. "And the
suspicions we had were confirmed. The Capitol has been undergoing the process of
hijacking Peeta."
"Hijacking?" Even though I don't know the word, it frightens me.
"The Capitol has been injecting tracker jacker venom into Peeta's bloodstream, and then
showing him images and having him listen to audio, so the situation is frightening to him.
You remember the effects of tracker jacker venom, don't you?" Dr. Lawler asks. "You were
stung, in your Games."
"Yes," I say. "Everything was confusing and scary. SoPeetahe'll get better, right?"
Dr. Lawler sighs. "The good news is, he was still undergoing treatment. He's in an early
moderate stage now. Usually, first comes an absolute fear, then anger, and finally,
murderous tendencies. Based on his running away, it seems he is between the stages of
fear and anger. If he were in the first stage, he would haven't had the ability to move at all,
or the very least just curl into a ball. Anger, and he would have thrown things at you and
attacked you."
"You didn't answer my question," I say. "Will Peeta get better?"
"We'll have to see," Dr. Lawler says. "Our knowledge of reversing the hijacking this is still
limited. But it could be a lot worse."
"He was normal before though," I say. "What happened?"
"Normal?" Dr. Lawler raises his eyebrows. "He was apathetic before. Then the effects of the
hijacking occurred when he found you sleeping beside him. He was off-guard and the
reaction triggered."
I pause, taking this in. "Because of me?"
"Well, yes," Dr. Lawler answers. "The Capitol was trying to get him to be their own weapon
against you. You are the one he's triggered to react to."
The implication of this all sinks down into me.
"He's scared just of me then?"
Dr. Lawler nods his head. "As far as we can tell. Especially because the Capitol would have
wanted to concentrate all of his hatred onto you."
Hatred? Now he's not only scared of me, but he hates me, too? Tears sting my eyes. No,
that couldn't be. How many countless times had he said he loved me? How often had he
proved it to me, who doubted everything and trusted so few? I never thought Peeta could
hate me.
Now, it seems, he does.
A/N And now half of you hate me. Ok, whatever. I thought the hijacking in MJ was
brilliant because it showed how strong Peeta is, and how even though he was
trained to hate her, he fell in love with her again anyway. It did make me sad at
first, but now I think it's vital. But at the same time, some didn't like it, and Peeta
wasn't with the Capitol as long this time around. So this is the result: half-hijacked
Peeta.
They run more tests on Peeta that determine exactly how far the hijacking went. The
trouble is that the tests always came out differently each time. Only one remained constant.
His terror and hate was directed to one thingme. Sometimes, the area of his brain which
registered fear, anger, and hatred was only dimly lit, the way people are around those they
don't like. Other times, it spikes as high as the doctors had ever seen it.
Peeta's still gone from me. His body is here, but his mind, his heart, everything I loved
about himit's gone. And that leaves me as empty as if he were dead.
I'm told I'm to go into District 4. They're trying to fend off the final fleet of the Capitol off of
their coast. They're almost guaranteed to send them away, which is why I'm being sent
there now. I'll be seen in action, but safe.
Beetee and Wiress equip me with the specialized bow and arrows. Before they meet me,
they're talking with Gale. I silently wait for them to finish their conversation of bombs,
specialized ones that will target the enemy more closely than ever beforeby acting on
their natural instinct to run or their emotional instinct to protect.
"So you're going to District 4?" Gale asks.
"Yes."
"So am I. I'm part of your team, actually."
"I didn't know."
Gale shrugs. "I guess you've been preoccupied with Peeta."
I look away from him and don't respond. I don't want him to see the pain and weakness in
my eyes. My jaw tightens, but still, I know I don't fool him. I've never been able to hide
from Gale my feelings and motives. He knew me.
"I'm sorry Katniss," he whispers then leaves.
I practice with my new bow, the explosive and fiery arrows different and thrilling. The only
off-put of this is that with each of these arrows sent into the enemy line, more will die by
my hand. The only thought getting me through is that if the Capitol stays in power, then
more will die. More will go into those Games. If I live, it will be sure to be one of my own.
The day comes when in the morning, I'll be going out to District 4. I haven't seen Peeta
face-to-face since they knocked him out. And now I have to see him because this could be
for the last time. I argue with the doctors until they finally listen to Haymitch of all people
and let me go down to him. They sedate him slightly first, so he's too weak to bolt.
I enter the room where he lays strapped down in a bed. His eyes are empty. Looking at
them now, the joy of his rescue drained from me, and I see it. What I should have seen in
the first place.
"Well, it's been a while, hasn't it?" Peeta asks.
"They didn't want me to come see you," I explain. "But they let me come say good-bye."
"Good-bye?"
It bothers me that he doesn't seem concerned about this, or even curious. My old Peeta
would have gone in my place, or gone with me to protect me, no matter what. But I realize,
horribly, that he sounds anxious and grateful that I'm saying good-bye to him.
"I'm going to District Four," I say. "There's going to be a battle and I agreed to do what
they want me to do."
"Killing more people," Peeta whispers, his head straightening so he's staring at the ceiling.
"Killing, killing, killing."
I feel a flare of anger in me. "You aren't so innocent yourself."
"There are plenty of things, though, that you've done and I never have," Peeta responds.
"Worse than murder?"
"I never enjoyed murder."
"Oh, and I did?"
Peeta flinches back. His heart rate climbs a little, but the drugs keep him under even a
normal pace. His eyes search for a way out, but there is none. His body tenses, and he
seems like one of those mice Buttercup would corner, with no way to escape.
I feel like screaming. This isn't my Peeta! I feel like refusing to go to District 4, because
Coin didn't fulfill her promise. This isn't him. This isn't Peeta, she didn't get him. So I'm not
the Mockingjay. I won't be until he comes back.
But his fearful eyes stare at me with horror of me. Peeta's worse than dead. His figure is
here, mocking me, but he isn't here. The Capitol took him from me. They must realize that
this way he's more valuable like this than dead.
I turn and run out, suddenly glad we're leaving. I can't be here with Peeta, not anymore.
Seeing the brain scans and seeing him like this are two completely different things. And I
can't stand another minute of it.

As expected, we won in District 4. A crew of cameramen and their director Cressida film me
in all of my blazing glory, shooting at the Capitol's fleet, sinking their ships, flinging myself
away from the Capitol's own bombs and the moving interaction with other soldiers.
"You aren't wearing your wedding ring," Gale notices our last night in District Four. I've
begged to go on to the next battle; this one in District Seven.
"Not much sense wearing it to war," I say, even though I know this is a lie. I threw it off
after I saw Peeta. Because I wasn't married. That wasn't the Peeta I married, and so I'm
not anymore. I make my own personal annulment. If we both live through this war, maybe
I'll make it official. Peeta will probably beat me to it, though.
District Seven is harder. This time, battles are on foot among the vast forestry. I'm put in
the weakest of the fire, mostly going for shots of me again for the propos. Gale gets to go in
deeper some days. My stomach stays clenched until he returns.
"Things are getting too dangerous here," Boggs, our team leader, says. "Katniss, you're
heading out tomorrow."
"Which district am I going to next?" I ask.
"Thirteen."
I shake my head. "No, I need to fight."
"You've been fighting for three weeks," Boggs reminds me. "You're needed in District 13
anyway. And I'm sure you're anxious to hear about how Peeta's doing now."
He hates me. He's afraid of me. That's how he's doing now.
"You're leaving tomorrow," Boggs says with finality.
That night, Gale and I are on guard. I'm dreading going back to where Peeta iswhere the
hijacked Peeta is. As a log falls and sends a shower of embers up in the air, I find myself
speaking.
"I keep thinking about what you said."
"What's that?" Gale asks.
"About how when the war is over, I can stop pretending."
"Pretending?"
"That I married Peeta because I wanted to," I say. "That in our Games I loved him. I can
tell the truth. And I can be free."
"I thought you said you love him," Gale says.
"I love the Peeta before the Capitol took him," I answer. "He's not here anymore, Gale. I
don't love this new one. I can't stand the new one. He's not who I fell in love with."
Gale takes a moment before saying, "No, Katniss. Either you loved him then and now or
never at all. And I'm beginning to think I got shot in the arm for nothing, that you never
loved him."
"Yes I did," I say. "But he's not there, Gale, you said it yourself."
Gale shrugs. "Maybe, but you seem to have given up rather quickly for being so in love with
him." We're both quiet before he concludes, "I'd be lying if I said I'm hoping you two work
out. But I'm just trying to make you realize if you feel this way, then maybe your feelings
were forced and not actually what love is. Peeta wouldn't have given up on you. I wouldn't
have given up on you. But you haven't even fought for him. Maybe it was never love. Or at
least, not enough."
When we trade out guarding, I don't sleep. Instead, I think about what Gale has said to me.
Did I really not ever love Peeta? I remember how the horror of the thought of living without
him hit me so strongly, how being in his arms, I felt safe, and how I trusted him. I
remember the darkness of when he was gone, the pain of when he came back but wasn't
the same.
Did I love this Peeta here? No, I didn't love him. That was simple enough.
But I'm still in love with the one I left behind. I miss him more than anything else, so much
I've been driving myself to work until I forget. I've resented this new Peeta brought to me
so much I hadn't thought that maybe my Peeta is still in there, somewhere. But facing this
one I despise, this was making me weak and unable to dig for the one I lost. And, I'm
afraid. Afraid I'll spend all of my emotion trying to get him back, only to come out more
alone than ever.
I could spend all of my time trying to bring him back and have him as distant as ever.
Maybe I'd been protecting myself, signing off on Peeta because if he can't become what he
was, then I'll have put all of my love into someone who won't return it.
That's what Peeta did with you, I realize, only he never deserted you.
I hadn't given Peeta much hope to returning a speck of the love he had for me before our
wedding, and even after that there were times of doubt. How much of his love had I
rejected, how much of my own had I withdrawn? Yet he had always been there for me,
someone I could always rely on, and eventually, my feelings were enough. He won me.
Maybe, this time, I'll be able to do the same with him.

When I arrive back in District 13, I demand to know what's going on with Peeta. It's been a
long time since I've even heard anything about him. The doctors explain the treatment
they've been giving him. It seems to help, but not at the rate they were hoping.
"I want to see him," I say. I know I can't fix him by staying away. I need to be there.
"He's in treatment," Dr. Laweler tells me.
"Good," I say. "He'll know I'm going to be there for him."
"No, this isn't good," Dr. Lawler explains. "He's watching the Games again with morphling in
him. Your sister actually suggested this treatmentso far it's been the most productive. But
he believes you attacked him and meant to kill him then. Having you, the threat, there with
him would damage everything."
"I'm also the only person who was actually there," I say. "I'm the only one who can explain
everything."
The doctors all shake their heads.
"Look, if I damage him, I'll listen to you," I say. "I'll do whatever you think is best for him.
But just let me try this, just today. If it works, then we'll know how to help him."
Reluctantly, the doctors give in. I'm let into Peeta's room, where he lays passively on the
bed, morphling all through him, watching as the Careers taunt me up in the tree.
I realize how unprepared I am for this. I sit down beside him, waiting for something: words,
a gesture, anything. But I was never the one good at that. It was always Peeta who could
comfort me. I never did the same for him. Not like he did for me. Before, being alive and
with him was enough. Now it's different. And I don't know how to be to him what he was to
me.
"This must be your favorite part," Peeta says as on the screen I send the nest of tracker
jackers crashing down on Peeta and the Careers.
I grimace. "It's one of the nightmares I still get. No, this isn't my favorite part."
"Then what was?" Peeta asks. "Finding me nearly dead and hoping I'd die? It must have
inconvenienced you that I survived. But hey, at least my leg's gone."
"You should watch all of the Games before you say anything," I say. I stop, then continue,
"If you must know, my favorite part was when you came back to me. At least, part of you
has."
He stays quiet as on screen, he smashes through the bushes and pushes me away as Cato
approaches us.
"Until then, I thought you were trying to kill me," I say. "That's why I put the nest on all of
you. But I was wrong, you know. You were protecting me, because you loved me." I pause.
"And you're wrong, too."
"About what?" Peeta looks away from the screen and at me as his leg gets a sword in it.
"About me, just like I was wrong about you," I answer. "I'm protecting you Peeta, because I
love you."
He doesn't say anything more for the rest of his session and neither do I. The Games have
been edited to be shorter, just going over important events. They've just announced the
rule change, and Peeta's session is over. I'm told to leave as the doctors go over him.
That evening, my mother gives me a note from Dr. Lawler. He says I can come back to
Peeta's recovery sessions if I want to. I nearly cry, because for the first time in a long while,
I feel hope.
A/N Goodness, I listened to nothing but "Hallelujiah" from Shrek and Kelly
Clarksons' live version of "Beautiful Disaster" while writing this. I don't know why,
but these hit my creative spot.
I wasn't wrong when I thought that getting Peeta back to me would be the most difficult
thing I would ever attempt to do. Some days, having him back felt so close, I almost let
myself believe he was there, somewhere. Other days were dark, where he had to be
strapped down as he thrashed in nightmares. Most were days in-between, when he was
closed and distrusting of me.
On the day we watch that last moments of our Games, as soon as my screaming face and
pounding fist go to black, I know there will be questions, because this moment is what
made everyone in Panem confused, and they were sane.
"Why did you do it?" Peeta asks me.
I know he means the berries.
"I don't think I'll ever know for sure," I say. "Some say it's because I was in love with you."
"Well, that's not true," Peeta says. "You didn't love me, it was plain to see in the way that
you kissed me."
"Is that the only type of love there is?" I ask him. "Romantic? Maybe it wasn't like that for
me then, but I know that at that point, if I'd lost you"
I falter. I've gone over this in my head enough, counted how lucky I was Peeta made it
through beside me. But I'd never spoken it aloud. But Peeta needs to hear it. He needs to
know the truth, because he's not that boy who will love me no matter what anymore. He's
broken and confused, and I need to say it.
"If I'd lost you," I continue softly. "I would never have been able to be alive again. You
became someone I trusted, who could know what I was facing. Having that goneit would
have ruined me."
Peeta stays guarded. "You said there were other reasons, though."
I sigh. "Some say I did it to rebel against the Capitol."
"That sounds more like you," Peeta says.
"And why couldn't it be both?" I ask him. "Why couldn't I have pulled out those berries
because I was fed with the Capitol? That trying to force us to kill each other when we'd
been promised differently was the final straw, and it was my resolve to have us both win
that drove it?"
"No, I think you just hate them," Peeta says. "You would have gone on fine without me."
Unfortunately, this was the only thing I'd been unable to get him to see the truth in.
When we finished the Games, we went over the Victory Tour and other random footage of
the two of us. I'd never realized just how much they had. But the doctors wanted to be
thorough, and so they had us watch every minute, the morphling running in Peeta's veins in
a steady stream.
I answer Peeta's questions as honestly as I can, often flinching at what I had been thinking
at the time. Peeta picks up on this fairly easily.
"You didn't like me much," Peeta says.
"I always liked you," I answer. "But I wasn't always in love with you."
"What made you change your mind?"
I hesitate. "I didn't want to live without you."
Peeta takes this as his best answer and goes back to watching us dance at a party after the
Seventy-Fifth Hunger Games.
Then, one day, the video they have in is of our wedding. I watch myself, flushed and
dressed in white, walk down to where Peeta waits for me. Just as the first time, I don't
listen to the words being spoken. Instead, I observe Peeta beside me, watching the events
with detachment.
When the film is over, ending with Peeta and I entering the hotel, we sit in the silence. For
some reason, this was one of the heavier days despite the airy lightness of our Capitol
wedding.
"After that" Peeta begins, thinking, "you were crying in the bathroom. You really didn't
want to be married to me."
"I just didn't want to be married at all," I try to explain. "I'm not a very open person, Peeta
and you have to be that way in a marriage."
"Then why didn't you sign the papers?"
"I didn't want to live a bigger lie."
Peeta sighs. "I'm still missing so much, I don't understand anything."
I venture to take his hand. His hand jerks back a little, but I hold on fast to it, and Peeta
relaxes a little. This is the first time I've touched him since his first night back. His hands
are cold, not warm as they used to be. But when I look in his eyes, I can see a glint
ofsomething there. I want to say trust. That he's finally beginning to trust me again.
"We're going to fix that," I say. "You'll remember everything soon."
He looks at me with skepticism. I can tell he wants me to let go of his hand. But I won't, not
yet. I'm desperate to make him understand.
"It'll come in time," I assure him. "For nowI just want you to know that whatever
happened in the past, whatever stupid things I did, I love you right now."
This only seems to frighten him more. I let go as he jerks his hand away.
What am I doing wrong? Why can't I seem to reach him? I know it's only been a month
since I've really started working with him, so maybe I'm expecting things to go too fast.
Still, pieces of truth come back to him when he asks me. I can always tell through his eyes.
When I answer his question, his eyes confirm that he remembers it. If not, there's a haze in
front of them, and I fumble my words to explain to him what I can. Sometimes, he gets
more confused. Other times, the haze clears and he gets it again.
One day I'm called into Command.
"You're going back to District 7," Coin informs me. "The spirits there are particularly low
there, and we need more shots of you with your promos."
"Right now isn't a very good time," I say. "Peeta's still in recovery and he needs me."
Coin looks at me sternly. "Peeta won't do well if the Capitol wins. You agreed to be our
Mockingjay. You're going to District Seven tomorrow afternoon with Boggs and his crew."
I know arguing is pointless, and I know I shouldn't either. Coin, as much as I hate to admit
it, is right. I'm the Mockingjay. Since the promos aired, rebel forces have been improving. I
don't know why that is. I'm still puzzled at the way the soldiers looked to me when I was
with them a month ago in Four and then in Seven. And if what I want for our future to
actually happen, the Capitol needs to fall.
As I leave Command, though, I realize that saying good-bye to Peeta this time will be
harder. Because, despite everything, this time I do care for this man I'm leaving behind.
The inch by inch progression I've seen, the effort and emotion I've put into getting him
back, this has all built up in me so that I'm scared of what will happen if I leave. I don't
know if he'll go backwards, or if he won't trust me for leaving him, or if I die, he'll be stuck
in this dark place forever. My throat becomes sticky with the thought.
My schedule doesn't allow me to see Peeta until the following morning. The pressure of the
world seems to fall on my chest as I go in to say good-bye to Peeta. I can't stay long, I
have to go and prepare to leave. And I can't stay long anyway. This has to be brief, or I
may never let go.
"You look worried," Peeta says. It's not in his old, gentle voice. This tone is a little colder,
apathetic as to why I'm anxious.
"I'm leaving again," I tell him.
This makes him pause. "Why?"
"District Seven needs me, and I'm overdue for new propos as it is," I reply, folding my arms
to try and keep myself together.
"When will you be back?" Peeta demands.
I shrug. "Whenever they send me back."
"Who's going to talk to me?" Peeta asks. "Who's going to help me remember?"
"The doctors-"
"Screw doctors!" Peeta exclaims. "They don't know me! They don't know anything about
what I've gone through! And they don'tthey don't care if I get better. Not like you do."
With that, the resentment, the anger, the coldness all breaks and he's standing there alone
and vulnerable.
And I feel the pressure inside of me crack and release from me. I cross the room and stroke
Peeta's cheek, caressing him for the first time in too long. He shudders, but doesn't shy
away. I lean in and press my lips against his, very gently, our first kiss since he was first
returned to me. He doesn't move. He stays tense. But he doesn't run; he doesn't push me
away.
"I'm coming back," I promise. "Just, remember what I've told you. Keep a list of questions
you have. We'll go over every one when I get back."
Peeta nods, but looks sad. It almost makes me refuse to go. I keep my grip tight on his
hands until I know I can't anymore, and I release them with a sudden urgency and leave,
refusing to look back at him in case I lose my resolve.
A/N Hey everyone. So come November I will not be updating any of my fanfics due
to NaNoWriMo, which will be my first time participating in it, and I am so jazzed.
Anyway, if you want to know what NaNoWriMo is, go to my profile and I really
encourage you to join it as well! Anyway, so after this chapter of I Do I plan on
writing one more chapter before the NaNoWriMo craziness because it will be the
best stopping place for a month. And then I'm not going to be updating until
December, but I will keep going so don't freak.
District 7 is about the same as it was when I left it over a month ago. The forces between
the rebels and the Capitol are about evenly spread through the district. Other than District
2, it is the only one struggling against the Capitol forces. While the rebels have either all or
most control over the other districts, the general in charge of Seven in the Capitol is much
more shrewd than the others.
My team from District 13 joins another from District 7. When I hear someone shrieking
about getting her extra pair of socks wet, I prepare myself. As expected, Johanna Mason
comes stomping out of her tent angrily.
"Katniss," Johanna says curtly. "I thought you were knocked up."
"Miscarriage," I answer, giving the prescribed answer.
Johanna flicks her eyebrow up for a moment. "Hm. Best thing, I suppose. Wouldn't want to
have a baby in the middle of the war, especially as the Mockingjay."
"No, that would be a problem," I say.
Johanna looks back in her tent. "Well, hopefully you don't end up with an idiot to share a
tent with like I did." She looks over at Gale. "You know, if you're sharing with your cousin
there, I'd be more than happy to switch with you."
"Sorry, I think I'm tenting with Cressida, my director," I point over at her and the camera
crew.
"Never mind then," Johanna looks over to the pot of stew they're bringing over. "Oooh.
Food. Talk with you later Katniss, I have an appointment."
She heads off to the herd of hungry soldiers to get her rations of the meal. I take my
supplies and begin setting up the tent. Some helpful soldiers hurriedly come over to help
me. It was this way before, too. People who don't know me want to meet me. Other teams
come from all around camp to just shake my hand, tell me their name, which I usually
forget eventually.
But since these people are part of my team, I try to remember them. There's Stevie, a
short, broad man with red hair, Mills, a woman in her late thirties with sandy brown hair and
wide green eyes, as well as Vance, a large and bulky man with close-cropped hair.
There's shooting practice for a while, and then we have dinner and go to bed. While
cleaning up breakfast the following morning, we're put under attack.
I'm rushed to the back with my camera crew, forced to watch as Gale, Johanna, and the
rest of them rush to the front. I'm screaming inside to go ahead, but Boggs doesn't let me.
"You're the Mockingjay!" He explains over the shells blasting.
Which means I'm essentially good for nothing but getting pretty shots of me "fighting" in
the back. It's irritating and frustrating. I want to fight like the rest of them.
Days go by like this. The battle, the uselessness, the blood, it all blends together so that I'm
tired but jumpy, my thoughts keep on going back to District 13 and then back to battle,
then on to Peeta and Prim, and focused again on those around me. I'm scattered and
holding on as tight as I can, which never seems tight enough.
We slowly gain ground, the Capitol being pushed deeper into the woods of District Seven. I
keep waiting for when they say I can go home and I've done my part.
When I'm called into headquarters, I think that I am going to go back. But I'm not. I just
have a call from District 13. Immediately I worry that something's happened, that
someone's hurt or maybe even dead.
"When are you coming back?" Peeta's voice greets me, but it sounds distressed, which only
makes me worried even more.
"Peeta? Is everything okay?" I ask him.
"No," he says. "I'm forgetting things, Katniss. No one knows the answers. They're all dead
or gone"
"What are you forgetting?"
"What color was our bedroom?"
"Blue."
"Andand the sheets?"
"White."
"What else?" He asks me. "What else?"
"We had a fireplace," I say. "And a rug. But the floor was wood. A dark, rich wood. You liked
to paint by the window. We had a desk we were supposed to do work or write letters on,
but we never did. The bathroom was attached, and it had a shower and a bathtub. Two
sinks, and white tile everywhere."
"Yes," he breathes. "I remember."
There's a pause.
"Is that it?" I ask.
"No. But I need to see you to talk about it."
"What's it about?"
"I need to see you."
"I have to wait until they tell me I can go back," I tell him. "But I will as soon as I can,
okay?"
"Okay," he whispers into the phone and hangs up.
I'm escorted back to camp, where I join Johanna and Gale for dinner.
"So what'd they want?" Gale asks me.
"Peeta called," I explain, staring at my stale bread. "He needed me to talk to him, to help
him remember things."
"So your husband's still crazy?" Johanna asks.
"Hijacked," I correct. "Crazy implies it was something he did to make his mind like that. He
was hijacked."
"Whatever, he's still a nut," Johanna waves it off.
I glare at her and she glares back. Gale keeps eating, caught in the middle of us. I sigh and
look away first, closing my eyes. If I were actually in the battles, in danger, I know I
wouldn't feel guilty being here. I'm mocking those that are risking their lives, and I'm
without purpose here when I could be helping Peeta back home.
I end up standing and walking back to headquarters, demanding that they call Coin for me.
I walk in with such a fiery anger, and as the Mockingjay, they put me through to Coin's
secretary, which is as good as I'll get.
After five minutes of waiting, she gets on the phone.
"What is it now Soldier Everdeen?" Coin asks me, annoyed under her cool tone.
"I want to go back to District Thirteen," I say. "I'm not doing anything here, and my
husband needs me to get through everything."
"Katniss, we've been over this," Her tone is hard. "Your presence there is enough, and the
footage of you will be worth it everywhere else. I'm sorry you don't like it, but you need to
stay in District Seven as of now. If there is an opportunity for you to come to District 13,
rest assured we'll let you know and bring you back."
With that, she hangs up the phone. I slam the receiver back down and clench my fists
together, growling deep in my throat.
I sweep away, burying myself deep into my sleeping bag when I get back to camp, not
wanting to talk to anybody. I don't get my wish, unfortunately.
"You could try to act like you want to be here," Boggs says.
I open my eyes. "What?"
"Look, these people do look to you, whether you believe it or not," Boggs says. "Don't you
think they have family and loved ones they want to go home and see as well? I know that
your situation with Peeta makes things difficult Katniss, but you should just try and
remember what you do, others will do as well."
"Then let me fight," I say.
"I can't," Boggs says. "Not unless it's necessary. We're doing fine on people. You stay in the
back and fire your arrows. I know you feel like you aren't helping there, but you are. You're
helping as much as Gale or me or any of us. Maybe even more."
I calm down a little and put my head on my pillow.
"Fine," I mutter. "I'll try."
Boggs smiles at me and then stands up to leave.
And so I do try. Slowly, because I know that I can't completely change in one day. It still
does frustrate me to be the last in line of fire, but I keep quiet about it now. After a week,
Boggs thanks me for changing my attitude about my situation.
"People are noticing," He tells me. "You may not see it, but they're all bearing being away
from family better."
In a few more days, we're out and attacking the Capitol, trying to push them out, just far
enough that we're guaranteed their retreat. I'm up on the crawlers, great big machines that
roll along, but being up higher, I can aim better. From this bird's eye view I can see nearly
everyone. Gale, along with Boggs, has a slightly different uniform that marks their elite
status in District 13. I'm grateful for this, because when I'm up on the crawler, I can see
where Gale is and how he's doing.
I've shot one of the Capitol's hovercrafts and sent an few of the exploding arrows into their
side. We're gaining ground and the Capitol is falling behind. Maybe once District Seven is
won, Coin will let me go back to Peeta. This makes me want to drive the battle harder.
Until, that is, I see one of the singular uniformed men fall to the ground.
"Gale!" I cry, horror flooding into me.
Cressida and the crew, along with those operating the crawler, yell at me as I jump off while
it's moving. I don't know why he fell, if he's dead or hurt or what's the matter. But it
frightens me, and my blood runs cold as I approach him.
His hip is bleeding. But he's conscious when I come, the medical team already surrounding
him. His eyes meet mine though, and all I can do is stare into them, my breath becoming
ragged. No, not Gale. Not Gale.
Then Gale's expression changes. He yells at me, but I don't understand among the shells
and bursting sounds. He points, and so I turn around, just in time to feel the bullet hit me.
A/N Okay everyone, this is the last chapter until December (I mean, did you really
think that I would leave you off with that type of an ending? It's cruel enough
when I do it with an update in a few days).
Cinna's uniform saved me. I'm bruised, my ribs are broken, but I'm alive. Gale and I have
both been transported back to District 13 to receive better medical care. The first few days
I'm in a haze of painkillers, unable to grasp at anything but vague forms. I hear my
mother's voice and Prim's among the strange inflections of others. I want to ask them about
Peeta and Gale, but my tongue is lead in my mouth. All I can do is flutter my eyes open
now and again, then sleep some more.
When I come out of the drugs, they tell me that Gale's in recovery, but he'll be fine. The
recovery process, though, will take a long time. Months upon months to get him back to his
previous physical state. And even then, he may always walk with a limp. Peeta's been
struggling while I've been away, and at best maintaining where I left him off. Prim's gone to
talk to him, they say, and she's helping by keeping him stable, but not improving him as I
had. They ask my permission to move me into the same room as Peeta. They think that my
being with him will help his recovery, because he needs to remember that I'm not the
monster the Capitol made him believe I was. Since I'm injured though, I'll stay with him all
day and all night as I heal.
"If he hinders your own recovery at all, though," Dr. Lawler says. "You can come back here
whenever you wish."
"Of course I'll stay with him," I say, and so it's done.
As they wheel me into Peeta's hospital room, he looks relieved.
"They told me you might not want to live in the same room as me," he explains. "But if you
didn't come"
His expression makes it hard for me to ever consider leaving again.
"Well I'm here," I tell him. "Did you keep a list like I said?"
Peeta nods his head, taking out a sheet of paper from his drawer.
"Let me see," I hold out my hand to take the list.
"No."
"Peeta, how can I answer them then?"
"I'll read them to you."
I sigh. "Fine, then. Go on."
"The sign on the bakery," Peeta says. "What were the letters like?"
I struggle to try and describe the square blocks, even attempt drawing it myself when Peeta
hands me a piece of paper and a pencil to draw it.
The next question is difficult for me to get out.
"How did our tributes die?"
I explain how our boy tribute our first year of mentoring flopped in the water as the Career
from Four speared him, and about how the girl I mentored had her head bashed in by
Careers the second day. Then I explain about Crimson, how she and Rory were allies, how
they broke their alliance, and she saved him, but ended up dying. After each story, Peeta
wants more description, the features of each of the tributes. He's not satisfied with "a Seam
look." I recall a freckle on the boy's chin, the gangly limbs on the first girl, of Crimson's
shrewd eyes. Each one of them makes me hurt more than my ribs.
"Did you care about them?" Peeta asks me, his blue eyes shining.
"Yes," I whisper. "Even though I should have known better. They're each sounique and
special. They should have never died."
"It was the Capitol that killed them."
This time, it's not a question, but I answer anyway, "Yes. It's because of them."
We pause, this situation heavy on our minds.
"Are you tired?" Peeta asks me.
I nod my head. "If you want, I could look over the questions and be able to think about
them before, so we can get through them more quickly tomorrow."
"No," Peeta says.
"Why?"
"There's a question I don't want you to see."
I raise an eyebrow. "But how am I suppose to answer it then?"
"When I'm ready to ask you I will. But not now. I don't want you to see it now."
I sigh and know I have to agree. I close my eyes and sleep without the heavy drugs forcing
me into oblivion for the first time in a while.
It's the same. Nightmares come back to me. I scream, but wake because of the pain in my
ribs as I try to get away from the bloody creatures stalking me in my dreams. When I wake
up, Peeta's hand is on the doorknob and he's shaking.
We're both in our own separate hysteria, Peeta struggling not to run, and me, trying to keep
calm for his sake despite the fact that my unconscious is still stalking me. Also, the sobbing
doesn't help my ribs much as I shake and my chest rises and falls rapidly.
Peeta keeps his grip firm on the door, muttering things to himself with his eyes shut. In
time, we calm down on our own. But it takes me longer than it used to, when Peeta was
normal and beside me.
"Peeta, what are you doing?" I ask.
"You were screaming" he struggles. "Itit makes me think of thingsbut I didn't want to
leave youbutitand I couldn't"
That's all I can get out of him.
"I'm sorry," I say. "I get nightmares. I could go back if it scares you. If it would be best for
me to wait until I'm better and can see you during the day."
"No," Peeta says. "It's all right. II need to face them. I need to be stronger than that."
I look at him again, and realize he's stronger than I've ever given him credit for. How many
had I seen succumb to the Capitol's inflictions on them? Peeta was broken by them, but he
was making sure he wouldn't stay that way. He's climbing out of the hole, working down a
path no one else has gone down before.
I feel weak in comparison.
Peeta's eyes close, and I can tell he's remembering something. "I used to hold you?"
"Yes."
His eyes open. "Did it help?"
I nod my head.
He stands up stiffly and walks over to me. Because of my injury, I'm propped up on pillows.
Peeta sits down next to me and awkwardly puts his arms around me, careful to avoid my
tender ribs that complain despite of his deliberate motion. He's taut, but he's holding me. I
pace my breathing to bring in this moment right now.
We separate when they bring in our breakfast. He asks more questions of me, random and
some require such specific detail I have to close my eyes and concentrate to remember. But
they're so important to him, for whatever reason. Maybe he always paid such close
attention to detail. Or maybe in regaining his memory, he wants everything so he can see it
on his own.
Each day, we go through Peeta's list of question, sometimes one answer sprouting another
question into his confused mind. It's a tedious process, but it's for Peeta. And he's so near
to me now, I can feel him again.
The nightmares don't go away. I scream awake every time. The second night, Peeta's
standing at the door, his hands in fists, fighting it. The third night comes, and he's a step
back from where he was before. Each night, he doesn't make it as close to the door, each
time he's a little farther back. Every time after we both calm down, he holds me stiffly, but
each night he relaxes a little more and so do I. Soon, I lay my head to his chest. His lips
skim my hair. Then, once, we kiss, just barely, but it's there and it's real. It's so happy, it's
almost painful.
I'm technically well enough to be out of medical care since my ribs are no longer broken,
but I use the bruises as an excuse to stay with Peeta for a little longer.
Finally, though, Dr. Lawler tells me I'm well enough to go back to my room with my mother
and sister.
"Tonight is your last here," Dr. Lawler says. "There's no need to use up medical equipment
when we don't need it."
I go over to Peeta's bed that night, feeling that after these few weeks I can. And I want to,
because this may be my last chance for months, maybe even longer than that since no one
really knows how long it takes to hijacked victims to recover. It hurts to think of distancing
myself from him for a long time, but Peeta's strong. He'll recover faster than anyone would
think.
I can see he's thinking deeply about everything that's been happening as the night falls,
with his eyebrows turned in and his mouth set in concentration.
"Katniss" Peeta stops, wrestling with his own mind.
I look up at him. "What?"
"You know how the Capitolhow they took images of us and with the tracker jacker poison
made everything scary?"
I nod my head.
He lets out a breath. "Well, they also used something other than the Games, our wedding,
random interviews. Something District 13 didn't have access to. And since we never went
over it, I'm still confused about it."
"What?" I can't think of a single recorded moment I didn't watch with Peeta. There were
some we watched that I didn't even remember until they showed it to us again.
"It wasonly audiobut it was enough" Peeta looks down, away at me. "They were
fromour bedroom."
My stomach curdles.
"You mean from when we were intimate?" I ask.
He still avoids my gaze, nodding his head.
Tears fill my eyes, and my heart plunges into sorrow. Was nothing sacred to them? They
would force us to have a child. They would sell my body. And they still had the indecency to
mutate my husband's mind about our physical love? I can only imagine what the venom
made it like to him. I'm surprised he's let me in his bed again, even though we're clothed.
"What do you remember happening?" I ask him, sitting up, finding myself moving from him.
I'm disgusted, worried that he doesn't want me to touch him and he's only letting me beside
him because he's afraid of what I'll do.
His eyes flick up to mine once then away again, and he tells me. Each morphed memory he
speaks of makes me sicker and sicker. No wonder he ran from me, with images like that to
haunt him. Never have I wanted to destroy the Capitol so badly as right now.
"It's not true," I whisper, "It's not true."
"Then tell me what is," Peeta says. "I'll believe you, but I just need to know."
"We wereperfect," I try to explain it. "We loved each other. We never hurt each other. We
were always gentle, but we were passionate. Being that close to each other, sharing all we
hadit was everything."
He brushes the hair from my face I've placed in front to try and conceal myself. He strokes
my cheek. He kisses me lightly, lifting my face up to his.
"I believe you," he whispers.
"Do you remember?"
He shakes his head. "Not that."
I shift away from him painfully again. But he turns me back and kisses me again. "I want to
remember."
I kiss him in return. I am remembering, right now. His lips on mine once moreit's all
coming back to me, the most secret of our moments that I tried to keep from my heart,
because they would be the most painful to recall and to forget. But feeling this again, it's
impossible to ignore the memories.
Peeta groans and suddenly, the strings from my hospital gown get undone, exposing my
back. Peeta has a hold of the rest of it, but I stop him.
"Peeta," I say. "Are you ready for this? I mean, you're not afraid I'll do something to hurt
you or anything?"
"I'm still confused about a lot of things," Peeta tells me. "About what's real and what isn't.
But, I know you aren't going to hurt me, because you love me."
"And what about you? How do you feel about me?"
"Katniss," he says. "I've always loved you."
"But the hijacking-"
"Changed nothing," Peeta says. "I was scared of you, of what I thought you could or would
do to me. I don't know if you could understand. How I could love you and hate you and be
scared of you and be scared of losing you all at the same time."
"No, that doesn't make sense."
"Well, it is true. Only now, the bad feelings are gone. And I love you. I want to put what
happened behind us, and move on by feeling this again."
His mouth is on me and I can't stop him. I don't want to stop him. I kiss the crook of his
elbow, the scars that show where they pierced his skin with the needle that injected the
venom. My gown comes slipping off, and I reach around him to undo his. Our breathing
quickens, so much of our skin close now. I kiss him and he shudders, but presses harder
against my lips, his grip around my arms now like iron.
"What is it?" I ask, pushing back his hair.
"They're coming back stronger now," Peeta says. "Bad, wrong memories, good, true
memories. They keep blending together the closer we get."
"We don't need to rush anything," I assure him.
"No," He forces his lips back onto me. "No."
His finger trail on the fading bruises the bullet left, then continues. His skin on mine. My
hair falling across his back. Coming together again. Sometimes he shakes, and I know he's
pushing away the nightmares the hijacking put in him. But then sometimes I'll hear him
gasp and whisper, "I remember. Katniss, I remember."
A/N If any of you are confused, think of half-hijacked Peeta like an abuse victim,
the kind that love their abuser as well as hate them. Except now he knows Katniss
loves him and wouldn't hurt him, so...yay for that! :
A/N Yeah...so no, it's not December yet. Not even close. But, well, let's just say
NaNoWriMo is not working for the original book I'm working on for a lot of
reasons. Among them that I need to research a ton more, work out the plot better,
and rewrite the beginning. So I've decided instead of spewing out a bunch of
words I'll probably throw out eventually (like I will be doing with what I got done
so far) I'm going back to the planning stages of that. But I hate not writing, so
here we are. I'm sure you all are very excited. Again, I haven't stopped my
original work and I still have school, so updates are still sketchy on this.
And yeah, I'm re-using "Lullaby" by Josh Groban (which I used in Sing for Me).
Rights to song go to him.
In the morning, I wake up with a start. I look down the length of our bodies and move away
with a start. My heart pounds. Last night we reallyI don't know whether to laugh or to cry.
He's still sleeping, but I know the nurse is going to come in soon. And, well, he might prefer
it if he had his pants on. I put my hand on his shoulder and shake him gently. "Peeta.
Peeta, wake up."
He opens his eyes and then widens them, shifting away from me with fright. I bite my lip
and cover myself. Oh no. Did I screw everything up again? Peeta's as far away as he can
get from me on the bed, which really isn't very far. He's back up against the railings,
petrified. He shudders again, and I'm afraid of another attack. It was too soon. I shouldn't
have let things go like that, I should have known
"Peetayou might want to get your clothes on. We probably both should. The nurse will be
in soon," I have to handle this one point at a time. And getting our clothes back on is what I
can deal with right now.
Peeta begins to relax a little, slowly, as his eyes clear. Then, they begin to shine.
"Katniss," He breathes. "I fought them off. When I woke up, the bad things were therebut
they didn't happen, so I made them go away."
"No, they didn't," I smile a little. "Butlast night"
Peeta nods, leaning forward again and taking my hands. "That was real. All of that was
real." He looks up at me through his eyelashes. "Right? Because I don't think the venom
would make me remember something that good."
I nod my head and lean in to kiss him. He pulls back a little, but then moves in, capturing
my head in his hands. I draw away, though, and say, "We really should get dressed
though."
Peeta and I put clothes back on. For him, it's his standard hospital gown. For me, it's back
to the uniform of District 13. Peeta frowns when he sees it. "You're leaving me again?"
"I'm still going to be here," I say. "I'll visit you every day. I promise."
"They're going to take you away again," Peeta trembles. "They're going to take you from
me."
"No," I cross the distance to embrace him. "No, that won't happen." I brush the hair out of
his eyes. They should really keep on his appearance more here. It was a wonder he could
still see. "We're going to get you better. And then once you are, you'll come and live with
me."
"I will?"
"Once you show the doctors that you're okay," I say. "Thenthings will be like they used
to."
Peeta nods his head as the doors open and Dr. Lawler alongside a nurse. He frowns at us
and says to me, "Come on Katniss. It's time to go."
Peeta and I remain frozen for a moment in each other's arms until I swiftly kiss him good-
bye and leave the hospital room with Dr. Lawler following me out.
"What you did last night was not part of his recovery plan," Dr. Lawler hisses once we're in
the hallway. "We don't know how that will affect him."
My cheeks color. Did Peeta and I never have any sort of privacy? I suppose I should have
known that there were cameras, but since Peeta had been doing so much better, I never
saw the need for them now. And in the moment, I'd completely forgotten they were even
there.
"What do you mean?" I ask. "He finally knows the truth. He isn't confused about things
anymore."
"Do you not understand the psychological and emotional effects that type of intimacy
brings?" Dr. Lawler questions me. "We don't know what his brain will translate it as, or what
you've done to alter him."
"He trusts me again!" I exclaim. "He doesn't see me as a monster! That's what last night
did." Now my heart pumps in anger. "I'm sorry it wasn't part of your plan and that's why
you're mad, because you never authorized it. But you can't always plan these things, these
moments when you can finally get through to someone. People are more than just a
textbook or a medical study, Dr. Lawler. And Peeta isn't either of those."
His jaw tightens. "You're a nave girl, Katniss. I only hope last night didn't completely screw
over Peeta."
With that, he leaves me at my family's door, walking briskly away. I let out a groan of
frustration and fling the door open, my eyes widening at the sight in front of me.
Prim and Rory stand in the middle of the room, their arms wrapped around one another,
their lips eagerly pressed together, and not noticing that they had been interrupted at all. I
don't know how long I stand there gawking, trying to make sense of it, before I say in a
commanding voice, "Excuse me."
Prim's eyes fly open and she hastily takes a step away from Rory, blushing.
"Katniss," She says, out of breath. "II didn't think you'd be back so soon."
"Apparently not," I say coldly, folding my arms.
Rory looks down at the floor. Prim swallows nervously. "We were just about to head to
class."
"Practicing mouth-to-mouth were you?" There's a left-over fire in me from Dr. Lawler and
the two of them were reigniting it. I justI couldn't believe it. Prim? My little sister, kissing
a boy?
"We should go," Rory mutters, charging forward. Prim anxiously tries to follow him but I
stop her.
"We need to talk," I say, realizing that I was now staring up at her.
Rory pauses in the hallway. Prim bites her lip and nods for Rory to go on without her. She
takes a step back from me and mimics me by folding her arms, her weight on her left side. I
try to organize my befuddled thoughts into something coherent to say, but I'm having
trouble finding the right words to express this uneasiness.
"What?" She asks.
"Prim, what are you doing kissing Rory?" I demand. "You're too young to be kissing anyone
like that!"
"I'm fifteen Katniss! I'm not too young!" Prim exclaims.
"Oh? So now you're mature enough to just go around kissing boys-"
"Not boys, just Rory."
"He's probably one of the worst boys you could be kissing."
Prim is confused now and shakes her head. "What do you have against Rory? He's like your
brother. You mentored him!"
"In The Hunger Games," I say. "You don't know what he's going through Prim. He's hurt
and damaged and he won't ever be normal enough to have a healthy relationship with."
"You are such a hypocrite!" Prim cries. "What about you and Peeta? You married him and he
went through the same thing!"
"We went through that together," I say. "It was healthy for both of us to have that
relationship. He was the only one who could understand."
"So what about now?" Prim challenges. "At least Rory isn't hospitalized because he's been
hijacked."
I shut my mouth for a moment before saying, "It's different. I was already in love with
Peeta. I couldn't let him go."
"And I'm in love with Rory."
I press my fingers to my temple. "No, Prim. No."
"Yes!" Prim cries. "I'm in love with him, Katniss. And he's in love with me, too."
"Howhow could this have happened?"
"It was our medical class," Prim smiled faintly. "Rory was trying so hard. I began tutoring
him. He told me everything about his Games, about how guilty he felt for those he killed
and about Crimson. He told me about his nightmares. He was so broken, like you were, but
he didn't hide it from me like you did. I wanted to help him so much. I tried to help him
have fun. And he sometimes did. Then one day, he justkissed me and I knew."
I can see it in her eyes, that glow, that look Peeta used to have when he talked about me.
And the girl Prim is gone completely. I'd always known part of her innocence had been
taken away before, but now she was loving like a grown woman, like I'd been unable to love
until just a few weeks ago. That last part of her that remained a girl was gone at only
fifteen.
But a brief moment of terror seizes me when I realize that now to complete her experience
in love, she'll have to have a broken heart.
"I don't want you to get hurt," I whisper.
Prim smiles ruefully. "I know. I won't Katniss."
I shake my head. Yes, she will. Everyone who falls in love ends up with a broken heart.
Mother, when Father died. Gale, when I didn't return his affection. Me, now, after Peeta's
torture. Prim will feel that same pain, and it haunts me that now I can't protect her. If I
deny her Rory, her heart will break. If I let this go on, something will happen between her
and Rory and she'll hurt anyway.
"Does Mother know?"
"A little bit of it," Prim says. "She knows we spend a lot of time together. I think she might
suspect something more."
"Anyone else know?"
"I haven't told anyone."
"Sois this secret?" I ask.
Prim shrugs. "Not really. We haven't talked if we want to let everyone know about this
though. You know how gossip is."
I'm still struggling to accept this, that Prim is now in a relationship with a boy. I don't want
Prim to be hurt. I'll just have to give her the advice that will help her hurt less.
"Justdon'tyou know," I stumble across my words and blush. I can't even say it, not in
front of my little sister.
But Prim laughs it off. "Yes Katniss, I know."
My stomach grumbles just then and I remember I haven't eaten breakfast yet. So Prim goes
to her class while I head off to the dining area. There, everyone greets me a welcome back.
I see Finnick with Annie, and so I decide to sit by them. They're holding hands, using their
one free hand to eat.
"Hey Katniss," Finnick smiles brightly. "It's good to see you up and better again. How's
Peeta doing?"
"He's a lot better," I answer. "I think he might be released soon."
"That's great to hear," Finnick says. "Because, well, Annie and I want him to make our
wedding cake."
Annie giggles and blushes, earning her an even more loving look from Finnick.
"You two are getting married?" I ask. "Congratulations!"
"I wish I could say it was my idea, but Plutarch thinks that the rebels need a little bit of
happiness to show in the propos," Finnick says. "Still, Annie and I don't mind at all."
Annie leans in to Finnick's shoulder and he kisses the top of her head. Their love is so
strong, it's hard not to feel its strength being around them. But it still makes me ache;
maybe because I want Peeta to be here with me the way Finnick is with Annie.
"I'm sure Peeta will be more than happy to do it," I say. "It may even help him out to
recover."
"Well, it's a win for everyone then," Finnick says and stacks Annie's tray on his so he can
hold both with one hand and not let go of hers in the others. "We'll see you around,
Katniss."
After breakfast I'm due to go to a nuclear history lesson, which I ditch. Dr. Lawler isn't
letting me near Peeta yet, so I take a nap in our room. Then when physical exercise comes
on after lunch, I decide to do that. I haven't moved in a long time. The run is excruciating
with my still-healing bruises and my stagnant activity these past few weeks. Everything
hurts by the end when we have dinner. I sit with Delly Cartwright and Leevy for dinner, but
after only a few bites of my stew, a nurse comes to get me.
"It's Peeta," she explains. "He needs to see you."
I leave and follow her back to his room without even thinking twice about my nearly-empty
stomach. I find him in his room coiled up on the floor, hugging tightly onto a pillow, crying
into it as he rocks back and forth.
"Peeta?" I ask in fear and fall to the floor by him. "What happened? What is it?"
He looks up at me and relief is evident on his face. "Katniss! You're alive!"
"Of course I am," I say. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"I don't know, I don't know," Peeta says. "But II just get so scared you're hurt or dying. I
don't want that to happen, Katniss. It can't happen. Promise me it won't. Promise me." He
grabs onto my hands tightly, trapping me in his gaze. His pupils are dilated, and they
appear crazy.
"I promise," I say, even though I have no real right to say such things. Coin could decide to
ship me off to the middle of the Capitol tomorrow and I could die. But I don't like seeing
Peeta like this.
"Will you stay? I don't want to have to worry about you," Peeta pleads.
"I'll stay as long as I can," I say, becoming frightened and this new behavior in him.
This soothes Peeta for the moment, and we spend the evening together as I tell him about
when we were first married. He contributes some of his own memory, which I sometimes
have to correct. I tell him about Annie and Finnick's wedding and how they want him to
make the cake. He becomes excited and his eyes take that light to them again.
"District Four, that's fishing," Peeta muses. "Blues and greens then. Oh, but of course it
should be white, because it's for a wedding. This will be so much more interesting than the
cakes I made in District 12."
"What kinds did you do there?" I ask him.
"Flowers, mostly," Peeta says. "I liked to practice the edging, though. Those could always
be different. But for weddings, people always wanted flowers on their cakes. Roses,
especially."
After this topic has died down, Peeta says, "I'm tired, Katniss. I want to go to bed."
"Then go to bed," I say.
"Will you come with me?"
I nod helplessly. We hold each other and as he drowsily says, "Katniss, will you sing
something for me?"
I hate singing. But it's for Peeta, my husband who is still lost. I fumble in my memory for a
suitable song. I can't sing the one I did for Rue. The sharp memory of my father singing one
song stands out in my mind. Maybe because whenever he sang it, I felt safe. That is, until
he died.
Hush now baby don't you cry
Rest your wings my butterfly
Peace will come to you in time
And I will sing this lullaby
Know though I must leave, my child
That I would stay here by your side
And if you wake before I'm gone
Remember this sweet lullaby
And all love through darkness
Don't you ever stop believing
With love alone
With love you'll find your way
My love
The world has turned the day to dark
I leave this night with heavy heart
When I return to dry your eyes
I will sing this lullaby
Yes I will sing this lullaby
He's breathing heavily by the end of it and he's asleep, briefly free from his fear. And now, I
let my heart break. For all of the progress we'd made, something didn't go right. I refuse to
think it was because of last night. There had to be another explanation for it. There just had
to be.
Quietly, a nurse comes in and whispers to me, "Dr. Lawler wants to see you."
Carefully, I remove Peeta's arm from my waist and sit up, sliding out of bed. I follow the
nurse out of the room and into the one adjacent to it, which is where the doctors kept an
eye on Peeta.
"Well, I hope you're happy now," Dr. Lawler says bitterly. "He's worse off than he was
before."
"There's no way to prove that what we did last night has anything to do with this," I say
defensively, even though even I'm beginning to believe it less and less.
"Yes, it did," Dr. Lawler says. "You re-opened that intimate part of your relationship far too
soon. He's much more emotionally connected to you now, and with the traces of tracker
jacker venom in his veins still, his mind has adapted the situation. You're still the height of
his fears, only now it's all about if you aren't around him."
"Will we have to start from the beginning?" I ask.
"Thankfully not," Dr. Lawler says. "But we're going to have to create a new plan of action
for his recovery. You have to promise that you'll follow it exactly and trust us with this."
"I'll do my best," I allow.
"You need to follow it all," Dr. Lawler says. "And the first rule: no sex."
I want to rebel, not necessarily just because I want to make love with Peeta, but because
having a doctor telling me this is irritating. Only I recall walking in to see Peeta curled up
and I stiffly nod my head once, not looking at him.
"Good," Dr. Lawler says. "We'll let you know more specifics as soon as we know of them
ourselves. For now, just go back to your room and leave Peeta with us. We'll need to
observe his behavior further when you aren't around."
I sigh and stand, going back to my mother and sister's room. Rory's there as well. He and
Prim are hunched over a book. He's quietly laughing at something and she's smiling in that
sweet way of hers. I remember how just a few months ago he was a complete recluse,
unsmiling, and unwilling to be around others. Somehow, Prim has managed to make him
more like how he was before.
I only hope I'm actually able to do the same with Peeta.
The next day they won't let me see Peeta. They say they need to observe the extent of his
flip and to do that, I can't be in the same room with him. They tell me that I can sit in the
observation room with them, but I hate the passive role in that. Besides, as soon as he
called for me I'd want to go to him.
And anyway, there's someone I need to see still.
A cane rests against his chair, and he's scribbling something down with concentration. He's
so absorbed in his work, he doesn't even hear me come in the room or if he does, then he
doesn't bother to remove himself from the paper.
"Hi Gale," I say, and he looks up.
"Katniss." He sounds surprised.
"Sorry I haven't been to see you until now," I say. "But I couldn't move from my room and I
needed to be with Peeta. I just moved out yesterday, actually."
Gale shrugs. "Sure, I understand."
He goes back to his drawing, pencil to his lips as he pauses, looking over his draft. Then, he
begins sketching something out on it. I feel a little uneasy, but I take a seat next to him and
ask, "So what's this?"
"This is a trap I've been working on," Gale says. "I want it to be ready for when we storm
the Capitol."
"What does it do?" I ask, not following all of the drawings.
"What it does is release a gas. It's harmful if enough of it is inhaled, but for economic
purposes, it isn't lethal. But, as people run away from the gas, they run into a set of bombs.
And that is what will really kill them."
I find myself not wanting to even touch the paper that this is being drawn on. I even feel a
little sick about it.
"Sois this what you've been doing?" I ask. I can't hide my disgust about it. I grimace at
the drawing, which has failed to include the people it's been designed to kill.
"It's all I can do," Gale says. "In case you've forgotten, I got shot in the hip and now I can
hardly even walk. There's no way they'll ever let me back on the battlefield. This is what I
can do now to help the rebellion."
"I know," I say. "ButGale, what scares me is that you seem to enjoy coming up with ways
to kill people."
"I enjoy coming up with ways to move the rebellion along," Gale replies coldly. "And if we
have to kill the people that are oppressing us, so be it. They're going out there ready to die
for their side as much as I'm ready to die for ours."
"You don't know that," I say. "They could be citizens forced to do this or Avoxes with no
choice. They're still people Gale."
"Doesn't change the fact that they're fighting for Snow."
"You know that Rory's been training to be a healer with Prim?"
"He's told me."
"When you become like me and Rory, Gale, death has a bigger affect on you," I say. "If you
had to look into the eyes of the family of each person you killed, would you be making these
bombs, these traps?"
"To look in the eyes of everyone I love and seeing the freedom there, I would," Gale
answers softly. "Rory has his way of helping. It's his decision. But you forget that he's
healing those stepping up to kill the enemy. Once he's done fixing them, they'll go back out
and kill more."
"It's ironic," I say. "It seems the more you can keep track of your kills, the more it bothers
you. But with each person, that sympathetic part of you dies a little more, rather than
becoming more guilty."
"It's war Katniss," Gale says. "Nothing personal."
"We'll never agree on this," I say.
"We know how to disagree. We have before."
Not about something like this, I want to tell him, but I don't. Instead, I just look down at
my fingernails, cleaning out some dirt in them.
"You know," Gale raises his eyebrows. "I have top-secret information."
My eyebrows fall down. "What?"
"The other day, Rory asked me how to, as he put it, 'kiss a girl on the mouth.'" Gale says.
"After I coaxed him into telling me I helped him a bit, but you know who that girl was he
wanted to kiss?"
"Prim," I answer, sighing. "I caught them kissing yesterday."
"You did?" Gale seems surprised. "Sohow did it look like he was doing?"
"I was in too much shock that I didn't really judge his form," I say. "But Prim didn't seem
disappointed about it."
Gale smirks. "Well, I taught him all I know."
"And you're such an expert?" I ask him.
"Sure," Gale says. "You didn't really think that I've only kissed you, did you?"
"No," I answer. I guess I'd never really thought about it, but had it been brought up, I know
that Gale wouldn't have waited for me. After all, I was two years younger than him and
during adolescence that was a lot of time. I can't help but ask, "How many before me?"
"I don't really have time to count them all," Gale says. "But I can tell you how many there
were after you."
"I don't want you to tell me," I whisper.
"Why not?"
"I know the answer," I say. "But hearing you say it will make me feel guilty again."
"Yeah, well, I guess I'm just still holding onto the tiniest sliver of hope," Gale says. "Just
keep waiting and waiting, like something might actually happen."
"Nothing will," I say. I know it's cold and maybe even a little harsh, but Gale has to know by
now. The hijacking made him hope again, but I had to set him straight for good. It wouldn't
be fair to let him keep hoping.
"Yeah. Yeah I know," Gale picks his pencil back up and begins shading.
I stand and leave him, heading into the dining hall for lunch. Afterwards I go to training
again, which is painful still. I feel a little pathetic because of how much I've fallen behind.
This time, I get through dinner before a nurse makes me come back to calm Peeta down.
When I come in his back is turned to me and he's yelling at the doctors, "I know Katniss!
She would have come to see me by now! You've done something to her! What did you do?"
"Peeta!" I cry, and he spins at the sound of my voice.
"Katniss!" He reaches out for me and kisses me. I let him, but the desperation in the way he
kisses me without any real reason for being so anxious makes me feel disconnected to him.
When we pull away, I notice the doctors have left the room so we're alone. Or, as alone as
we can get.
"Did they keep you from me?" Peeta asks. "What did they do?"
"Peeta, I couldn't come," I say. "I can't be with you all the time."
"But you have been before," Peeta says. "Until yesterday you were with me all of the time."
"That's when I was sick like you," I say, but he was really testing my patience. "But now I'm
better and you need to stay in the hospital."
"I'm not sick," Peeta says. "I'm not afraid of you anymore."
"Peeta, you still aren't better," I say. "You're afraid for me without any real reason."
He gives me a confused look and shakes his head. "No, you were gone. And people want to
hurt you Katniss. So many people want you dead. They told me when I was at the Capitol.
They said how they were going to get you killed. I can't know you're safe unless you're with
me."
"No Peeta," I tell him harshly. "This isn't healthy. You wouldn't be thinking about this if it
weren't for the tracker jacker venom."
"I didn't think about you like this before though," Peeta says. "You fixed me, and now I'm
me again. I'm as concerned for you as I was before the hijacking."
"This is extreme, even for you," I say. "Peeta, you need to understand so you can get fixed
completely. We can't live together again until you are."
"Is that what the doctors said?"
"It's what I said."
Peeta moves from me with a look of betrayal on his face. "I thought you wanted us to be
together."
"I do," I assure him. "But I want you all better, too. And you aren't yet."
Peeta turns away from me and sits on his bed, miserable. I bite down on my lip and cross
my arms. I don't know what to do. I try to be honest and tell him everything, but he's still
confused and won't believe me.
He covers his face in his hands. "Why am I like this?"
I come close to him, taking his hands in mine and making him look up at me. "You're like
this because you are strong."
He looks at me doubtfully. "Katniss-"
"No," I shake my head to silence him. "You've come so far in this. It's not your fault the
Capitol did this to you, but you're fixing it. You're doing better than anyone could expect
you to. You can't give up now, though, or else they'll win. I don't want them to win. I need
you to be with me."
Peeta takes our enclosed hands and draws me down to him. He settles me next to him on
the bed and then proceeds to kiss me. When he gently presses me onto the bed with a hint
of urgency I recognize, I begin to panic. How was I supposed to get out of this without
hurting Peeta? Then, I remember.
"Peeta, there's cameras in here."
"And?"
"And so we might want to keep thischaste."
"Didn't stop you last time," Peeta says.
"I just realized they were there," I say.
Peeta moves off of me with a huff. I sit up and try to find his eyes, but he refuses to look at
me. I take his hand again, but he holds his there limply. There was no way to please both
the doctors and Peeta. I might as well add myself in there as well. I couldn't find a way I
wanted this to go, either.
"Is it because I was different than how I used to be?" Peeta asks.
"What?"
"Is that why you slept with me two nights ago, but today you're wriggling to get out of any
type of affection? Because you thought I was the same, but I'm really different than how I
used to be, and you don't like that?"
"No, Peeta," I say. "You're still my husband. I love you. It was different, but it was still
good. More than good."
"Then why?"
I don't know how long they'll want me to put this off. It could be months. And hadn't I
decided a long time ago that Peeta would get the truth from me?
"The doctors believe that our last night together triggered the remaining tracker jacker
venom to create this new reaction where you're unreasonably anxious for my safety," I say.
"To avoid worsening it, they told me we couldn't sleep together."
I wait for the anger and frustration, but Peeta just begins laughing. I'm startled and recall
my words, trying to find what would be considered so funny about them.
"If that isn't motivation to get me better, I don't know what is," Peeta says, shaking his
head. I laugh in response and lean my head against his shoulder. He kisses the top of my
head and asks, "That's okay, isn't it?"
"They only said no sex," I say. "They didn't take away anything else."
Peeta grins mischievously and pushes me back into the position we were in before, kissing
all along my neck and jaw until he finds my lips. I close my eyes and block out any cries of
objection the doctors may be having right now. They had their way to treat Peeta, and I had
mine. They've had all day to work with him, and now it was my turn.
A/N This chapter goes out to SkyWriter9 for nominating I Do for Best Multi-
chapter Story for the Winter 2010 Hunger Games Fic Awards. I have the link to the
awards on my profile if you want to nominate any of your favorite fics for
anything. And SkyWriter9 also left a review on the last chapter which inspired me
to make a one-shot on Gale and Rory's conversation about how to kiss a girl on
the mouth. It's called "Some Brotherly Advice" if you want to check it out.
Finnick and Annie's wedding becomes the excitement of the district over the next few
weeks. My prep team is put to work on making the happy couple's outfits with the limited
resources available. The usual material District 13 makes is tweaked a bit. The fabric for
Annie's dress isn't dyed grey, but instead is kept white. Finnick's suit on the other hand, is
dyed darker to be black, which is something rarely done here.
Everyone else throws themselves into decorations, music, food, and the children put
together a choir and learn the wedding song used in District 4. There is one person is in
charge of creating a cake. Peeta.
Even after our talk, Peeta had struggled being separated from me for too long. I could tell
he was trying his hardest, and mostly he kept it inside, but it didn't mask the fact that
anxiety was still there when I was away. Yet once he began working on that cake, the
doctors said he appeared completely normal. Not once that day as he created his
masterpiece did he even mention me. And so they never let me in to see him. They want to
see if even when his work on the cake is done he'll be able to continue this calmness.
All night, he seems fine. I go to bed relieved, but still wondering about Peeta and if perhaps
now he'll be well enough to leave and we could live together again. Maybe it's too soon, but
I can't help hoping. I'm unable to sleep although I try. My mind simply can't turn off
between Peeta's progression and the wedding tomorrow.
Eventually I fall asleep and I begin to dream. Peeta's with me, holding my hand and smiling,
looking healthy and perfect, just as he did before his hijacking. We're in our backyard in
District 12, which seems to be unaffected by the bombings that happened. It's a carpet of
grass and nothing more. Peeta hands me a shovel and leads me to the middle of the yard.
We kneel down together and begin digging. Despite our hard work, we never tire nor grow
hot under the bright sun.
Then, Peeta draws out a small seed. He takes my hands and together, we put the seed in
the earth. We cover it back up with the soil we had removed. With a watering can, I sprinkle
the mound with it. Peeta wraps his arm around my waist as the seed grows and grows until
it's a tree, which blooms flowers that transform into red apples.
Peeta and I reach for the fruit, gathering up every one that we see into a large wicker
basket. We smile at each other as we see our load. Only then, Coin steps from out house
and walks straight to us, taking the basket of apples from our hands.
"These are required for the rebellion," She says in a cold voice.
"They're ours!" I protest, reaching for them.
"Don't want to be selfish, do we Katniss?" Coin asks.
I scream at her furiously, but when I lunge at her, she's gone, taking the apples with her. I
turn to Peeta for comfort of our loss, but he's crumpled on the ground, overcome with terror
I'd seen in him so many times before. I run to the tree to see if there is any more fruit left
on its branches, but the leaves turn brown and the wind takes them away. It stands there, a
skeleton, dead.
I wake with a gasp for air. That dream seemed more vivid than I've had in a long time. I
don't know why the loss of the fruit devastated me the way that it did, but I'm left with an
empty feeling as I get up for the dayfor Finnick and Annie's wedding.
Venia is assigned to come prepare me for the day. Flavius and Octavia are working on
Annie, but as the Mockingjay, I'm nearly as important to the propo as the bride and groom.
"They still won't let us do anything fun with you," Venia complains. "I'm surprised they even
let me use lipstick!"
Despite my professional help, the real beauty in this family is Prim. With my mother's
delicate hand, her hair is put up in a way that highlights how much she's grown up again.
She doesn't have any make-up on, but she's radiant without it anyway.
"Rory's going to go crazy when he sees you," I whisper to her, giving her hand a squeeze,
which makes her blush.
At ten we're seated in the hall where the ceremony will be taking place. My mother sits next
to Prim, who is next to me. Then, a welcomed, familiar voice says, "May I sit here?"
I look up to Peeta, who stands out of a hospital gown and instead in the clothes of the rest
of District 13, and looking more like the man that had been in the beginning of my dream
than the one at the end, the way he'd been looking recently.
"Peeta!" I gasp, standing up and throwing my arms around him. "You're out of the
hospital?"
"During the day," Peeta answers. "As long as I'm good."
I pull away and hold his hands in mine. "Then you'll have to stay good."
"That's the plan," He says.
We have to sit down because the ceremony is about to start. It feels so good to be with
Peeta and not have doctors watching our every move. It feels even better to have his hand
in mine, and it feeling like it did before.
Finnick enters the room. If I ever thought I'd seen Finnick at his handsomest, I had been
wrong. No amount of striking bone structure or alluring eyes could make up for his glowing
countenance. But when Annie comes into the room, in white dress, he beams brighter than
the sun. Neither of them seem to be able to take the distance, both of them reaching for
each other as the distance closes.
Dalton, a man who came here from District 10, officiates over the wedding since the one
used in his home was similar to that in District 4.
"Welcome, friends, to this union between Finnick Odair and Annie Cresta," Dalton says.
"First, we have a choir to sing the wedding song of District 4."
The children all stand upon the director's command. They all wait attentively and wait for
their cue to begin. With a raise of the director's hand, the children begin the song.
The journey begins peaceful
The waves are light,
As you sail by the channel
And the day becomes night
But oh, then, what ho!
The clouds ov'rcome the sky
The water tosses you to and fro
Your charting goes awry!
Hold tight, good sir,
Do not let go, dear lady
For you soon find a harbor
And there behold the beauty
Of your love so pure
Across the sea so azure
I lean my head against Peeta's shoulder, sighing. I still feel like we're both holding on as
tight as we can through this storm of our own. The idea that we could have a harbor of our
own sounds so wonderful and peaceful right now.
"And now, we have the exchange of vows," Dalton says. "But first, the couple is to be bound
together."
Finnick and Annie kneel down, never once taking their eyes off of one another. Dalton takes
a fishnet and wraps it around them both so that they're tangled in it. But I think they would
be happy staying in there together for the rest of their lives.
Finnick and Annie both recite the vows of District 4, "I pledge to you that yours will be the
name I cry aloud in the night and the eyes into which I smile in the morning. I pledge to
you the first bite of my meat and the first drink from my cup. I pledge to you my living and
my dying, each equally in your care. I shall be a shield for your back and you for mine. I
shall not slander you, nor you me. I shall honor you above all others, and when we quarrel
we shall do so in private and tell no strangers our grievances. This is my wedding vow to
you."
As each completes the vow, they seal the other's lips with salt water, pressing their
moistened fingers against the mouth of the other. By the end of the ceremony, they're
holding each other so close that when Dalton pronounces them married and gives
permission for them to kiss, they don't have far to go to do it.
Everyone cheers for them. I can't help but stand, the moment too beautiful for any gesture
to express it. Finnick and Annie can finally be together, in a way they never thought they
would be allowed to before.
The party, despite the limited resources we had to work with, is far superior to anything I
had been to in the Capitol.
If there was something District 12 was actually good at, besides mining coal, that would be
dancing. We're the ones leading everyone else, teaching them our steps. With a bit of
persuasion, I get Peeta to join us all in the dancing. He's reluctant, feeling shy around so
many other people. He probably can't even remember the last time he was surrounding by
a crowd of this number.
But no one can resist this type of a celebration. Peeta, the recluse Rory, my mother,
everyone is stomping their feets and twirling their arms, falling into fits of laughter and
smiling with the bride and groom.
Then, everyone is asked to clear the floor in order for Annie and Finnick to have the
spotlight to themselves for a while. The band turns the melody into a slow one, and they
waltz together, gazing in each other's eyes. Everyone watches them.
Then, one of the musicians stands and calls for all of the couples to join the bride and
groom. I stay where I am, but Peeta stands and offers me his hand. I smile up at him and
let him lead me out onto the dance floor.
"Do you remember our wedding at all, Peeta?" I ask him.
"Yes," he says. "It's one of the few memories that was fairly easy to recover. Or at least as
easy as that process is. It's fuzzy still, but, I remember."
"What do you remember?"
He looks down for a moment, his grip on me tightening. "I remember that the annulment
papers I had were what was keeping me together. Knowing, or, thinking at least, that I
wasn't actually hurting you. And you'd be with him soon enough and be happy. But at the
same time, part of me wanted to just keep dancing with you. Because then I'd never really
have to let go."
My hand moves from his shoulder and catches his chin. I kiss him.
"You never had to let go," I whisper.
"I just wish we could have been as happy as Finnick and Annie are now," Peeta says.
"Neither of us really got to enjoy it."
I shrug. "It doesn't matter. I think, as nice as this is, Finnick and Annie are just happy to be
married. That's what really matters."
Peeta nods his head and then asks me, "Katniss, would you mind if I asked someone else to
dance?"
I give him a puzzled expression but nod my head. He lets go of my waist but keeps our
hands joined together. We walk back to the table where we had sat previously. My mother
waits there, a look of longing on her weary face, mixed with sadness. I know this look well.
It's the one she wears on the day marking my father's death, on his birthday, and their
anniversary. I sometimes find it when she's looking at me or Prim, or quiet moments when
she thinks she's alone.
Peeta sets me back in my chair and then turns to my mother. "Would you like to dance?"
My mother appears surprised, but nods her head and lets Peeta take her out on the floor. I
smile to myself, realizing that maybe Peeta has come back to us. He says something and
my mother laughs.
My eyes also find Prim and Rory on the floor. Prim rests her head on Rory's chest as they
spin around in small, slow circles. She looks happier than I've ever seen her. And for Prim,
that truly is a feat.
After the dancing, the cake is wheeled out. I've seen a good amount of work that Peeta had
done on cakes, but this was truly amazing. The base is white, but the blue frosting creates
waves with boats, dolphins, sea flowers, and fish dancing across the creation. Annie gives
Peeta a kiss on the cheek when she sees it, and Finnick smiles.
After cake there is a little bit more dancing, but the time for the party begins to draw to a
close. First, though, Annie catches my arm and asks for me to help her. I nod my head and
follow her.
As it turns out, the dress makes it difficult to go to the bathroom by herself. I hold up her
skirt for her, but once everything's done, Annie holds me back for a moment. She looks
nervous.
"Am I dreaming?" She asks me with those wide green eyes. "Are Finnick and I really
married?"
"Yes," I nod my head. "You're truly married."
"I love him so much," Annie says. "But he's had so many women before me. Women who
knew what they were doing. I don't know anything. I might disappoint him."
I take her hands in mine. "Finnick never chose to be with those women. He never loved one
of them. I never had to go through what Finnick did, but I did think I would. No matter who
it would have been beside me, though, it wouldn't have meant anything if it wasn't Peeta.
Finnick loves you, Annie. Nothing you could do would disappoint him."
She smiles and nods your head. "Of course, you're right. I'm just"
Annie doesn't complete her thought, though. She just smiles again and goes back to the
party, where everyone has bells they ring as Finnick and Annie go into their newly assigned
room as husband and wife.
A/N The wedding vows are traditional Irish vows, I didn't make them up, and once
again I know I suck at lyrics. I feel like I had something else to say but now I
can't remember. Ah well.
The next day when I go to breakfast and Peeta's there, eating with everyone else so
normally, I have to stop for a moment in disbelief. I rush through the line, getting my mush
of a breakfast, and sit by him, demanding, "Did they release you?"
Peeta shakes his head. "Not entirely. They told me that they think I'll become fully healed if
I can work and be treated normally again. When I made that cake, and then when I went to
the wedding, I improved. So they're trying to give me more freedom. I still have to go back
every day, and if anything happens, that's it."
People stare as they see that he's been let out like he's a regular person again. A few
people make an effort to welcome him back, but it's clear they're all worried about this.
Coming to Finnick and Annie's wedding was one thing; no one wanted to miss it. But I
suppose this was too strange for them. That he's living regularly now, like any of the rest of
us.
But I know Peeta can do this. And so I angrily ignore those doubters and take Peeta's hand
as I actually go on to class with him. When I do go (which is hardly ever) I never listen. I
can't pay attention completely today, either, with Peeta here with me. But he tries so hard,
asking questions and even taking careful notes on the structure of the bombs.
Then again after lunch for the physical training, Peeta, despite being sick and recovering
from torture, makes an effort to keep up with those in the top notches. This is difficult
because of his leg, anyway. Peeta will never run as fast as he once did, and now his
strength has slipped away from him.
After dinner, he's brought back to his hospital room. This time, I'm not allowed to see him
since we've spent all day together. The doctors say we need our separation. I'd like to have
a private moment with Peeta, but they won't let me.
I think that this will only last a few days, but it doesn't. Two weeks pass and Peeta and I
only see each other during our classes. And even though he's next to me, he's so
preoccupied with learning everything, he always shushes me when I try to talk to him. Our
conversations are always at our meals, which are kept short in District 13 so no substantial
amount of time is wasted.
"Are you okay?" Peeta asks me one day at dinner.
I sigh. "My back's been hurting. I think it's because of all of those exercises you push me to
do during training."
"That I push you to do?" He raises his eyebrows.
"Sure," I say. "If I want to spend any time with you, I have to keep up with all of your crazy
routines. Not that you have any breath left to talk to me."
He slides his arm around my waist and pulls me closer to him. "It's so I can be with you
sooner, you know that. I need the doctors to know that I'm better."
"But you are," I whine. "Sometimes I wonder why I just don't kidnap you from the
hospital."
"And take me where?" He asks, smiling teasingly.
"Far away from here," I say. "To the meadow. Where we can be safe."
"And everyone else?"
I shake my head. "It's just a fantasy, Peeta. Nothing more."
Peeta turns his head to an opposite table where Prim sits with the Hawthornes, right next to
Rory, who has now long been her official boyfriend. I'm still adjusting to this new
development.
"So how's that going?" Peeta asks. "Prim and Rory?"
"Prim's never been happier," I say. "And Rory's practically normal again. He's talking to
people he doesn't know and talking more to people he does know. It's almost a miracle."
Then the nurse comes and says Peeta has to leave. After a brief kiss, we're separated again
until tomorrow morning.
I go back to the room I share with my mother and sister still furious that Peeta hasn't been
released yet. It's been too long since I shared a bed with him. Prim, despite her good
intentions, can't calm me like Peeta would be able to when I woke from a nightmare. And
now, with the war growing and growing, my dreams have become more and more real to
me. It takes me longer to distinguish what reality is.
And so the next morning after breakfast, as the crowd begins to go toward work and
classes, I take Peeta's hand in mine and whisper in his ear, "Come with me."
He gives me an odd look, but lets me lead him down a hallway seldom used during this time
of the day. This is the route I often took after Peeta's capture, when I thought that he was
gone from me forever. I'd learned the places in District 13 where you weren't likely to be
disturbed.
I open the door I was looking for and pull Peeta inside the storage closet. The door shuts
and its dark, but I can see Peeta's outline.
"Katniss, where are we?" He asks. "Why aren't we in class?"
"We're playing hookie," I explain. "I haven't done this in so long. It feels good."
"And we're in a dark room because?"
"Because I don't want us to be disturbed," I answer, moving into him. The room's so small,
though, that soon I have him pressed up against the wall as I push into him, kissing him
unlike I've been able to for such a long time. My chest aches with the pressure, but I ache
for him more. When I let him know exactly what I want, though, Peeta moves me away
from him.
"Katniss, the doctors didn't say we could do this," Peeta objects.
"Who cares?" I put my lips on his once more.
He steps away. "I do. Katniss, I want to live with you again. I want to get out of that
hospital and hold you in our sleep. I want this, but I want it knowing that we won't have to
cover it up."
I fold my arms and cross the short distance away from him. "So you're siding with the
doctors now?"
He sighs. "I don't know who's right and who's wrong about all of this. I just want to do what
I can to be your husband in every way again."
"Whatever," I snap. "I guess you'll want to go to class now."
I open the door and furiously storm away, but not without Peeta following behind. I try to
keep up my pace, and he can't reach me completely. We both head into class late, and the
rest of the day I hold a grudge against Peeta.
I know, in my head, why he did what he did. Part of me agrees. But I can't help this
overwhelmingly irritated feeling toward him. I don't know why I am, unless it's just some
animal part of me that can't wait a few more days.
At dinner, though, Peeta's had enough.
"Why won't you talk to me?" He asks.
"Why won't you sleep with me?" I retort under my breath so only he can hear.
"You're acting immature."
"It didn't stop you before."
He shakes his head. "You're not even making any sense."
I know I'm not. But I don't care if I'm not. Everyone, everything, is rubbing the wrong spot
on me today. I mash down on my boiled carrots, growling under my breath. We're silent for
the rest of the meal, Peeta probably sick of me by now.
But this time, it's not Peeta that's pulled away. It's me. Boggs comes to get me for some
sort of meeting. I don't know why I'm suddenly being called now, they haven't bothered me
for weeks with any sort of meeting. And so I briefly say my good-bye to Peeta and head
down with Boggs to the war room.
In there is Coin, Plutarch, Cressida, Fulvia, and the rest of my propo crew. I have a horrible
feeling sink into my stomach. But I suppose, given everything, it's time for more footage of
me.
"Katniss," Coin says. "We have a new mission for you to work on your propos with."
I nod my head once, and Coin continues, "We've broken through District 2, which means
that the Capitol is open. In two weeks we're planning on raiding the Capitol and taking over
from there. They're weak now, and this should all be over soon. Now, we aren't sure how
long this will last, so we want footage of you in the warfront to keep encouraging the people
no matter how long this goes. The doctors say you are healed enough, and the trainers find
you fit enough for battle."
"Then, this will be my last battle," I say. "Either I'll die or it'll be over anyway."
Coin says, "Ideally, yes. We aren't anticipating anything coming as a surprise to us, but you
never know."
I nod my head numbly. Over. Soon, this will all just be the past. And we'll be done with
everything. Peeta and Imy gut drops. Peeta. How will I be able to tell him this?
"Your morning classes will be replaced with war meetings," Coin says. "You'll begin
tomorrow. Good-night, Katniss."
"Good night," I reply and stand again to leave.
As I walk down the hall, I know I have to tell Peeta now, with the doctors ready for this.
Telling him during the moments when I see him now would be too public, and I don't know
how much medical help will be needed in this.
So when I go down to see Dr. Lawler and explain the situation, he nods his head and lets
me go into Peeta's room, where Peeta sits at an easel, painting a picture. He has that
special look of concentration on his face now that I used to love observing. Now, it's
breaking my heart.
"Peeta," I say.
He looks up, startled, and comes over to me. I embrace him, and he puts his cheek against
my hair. "What is it Katniss? What's wrong?"
I move back so I can look him in the eyes. They're concerned, expecting the worst. To him,
this may be the worst news I could deliver. I grip his hands in mine, look down, knowing
this is the only way I can build up the words to speak.
"The rebels are going to be moving into the Capitol in two weeks," I say. "I'm expected to
be in the battle as well. I'm going back in Peeta."
He drops back down again into his chair, lost and in pain. But there's no sobbing, no frantic,
crazed movements. Just grief spilled across his expression and in the slump of his
shoulders.
"I was expecting this," Peeta says sadly. "Doesn't make it any easier, though."
I step closer to him, putting my hand into his hair and trying to see his face again. His eyes
won't meet mine though, and the tears there are being held back. I gulp back my own
worry and run the back of my hand across his cheek.
"I've lived so far," I say. "And I even got shot. They want to protect me. I'm the
Mockingjay."
Peeta pulls me back in and kisses me, his lips desperate and searching. I cling to him while
I can. Why is everything so much harder with love? Why does it seem to make us weak? I
can hardly stand this, the knowledge that I'll be separated again from him soon, perhaps
forever.
A knock on the door is what makes us stop. We're both surprised, but Peeta says
questioningly, "Come in?"
Dr. Lawler is the one behind the door. He comes into the room and looks between the two
of us as he says, "The team of doctors and I now fully agree that Peeta is recovered. We've
requested a room for him, and if it's your wish, a room for the two of you."
"Yes," I answer immediately. "One for both of us."
"I'm really ready now?" Peeta asks, amazed.
"Based on your reaction to Katniss' news, we have to agree that you're now fully capable to
emotionally and psychologically deal with the stress of life," Dr. Lawler says. "Pack up
whatever you want to take with you, Peeta. You too, Katniss. You can be moved in by
tonight."
It's enough of a joy to smother our fear for now, as we all collect our things and go into our
newly assigned room, one that we'll be living in together. Once our few possessions are
together, Peeta and I stand in the room with incredulity, our hands joined together.
"Am I really fixed, Katniss?" he asks me.
I shrug. "The doctors say you are."
"But do you think I am?"
"No," I whisper. His face falls, so I have to explain, "But neither am I, Peeta. Neither of us
have been fixed since the Games. You were hurt even more because of the hijacking. Those
experiences aren't anything we can take back. All we can do is get through together."
Looking up into his blue eyes, and the lust that had filled me this morning is replaced by
something purer and truer, a real love for him again. And I want to be with him now while I
can, before the war tears us apart once more.
I spend my mornings in meetings for the war. Going over battle plans, the pods in the
Capitol streets, information that spies bring us. In the afternoon, I join the exercise routine,
only now I'm separated into those going to the Capitol for the final invasion for training.
Peeta is not among us. Our meals overlap as well, so now evenings seem to be our only
time together.
After a few days of going to these meetings, Plutarch updates us on the spies' information.
"Katniss' very own stylist Cinna, has been tortured to death. However, he did not release
any information," Plutarch announces, and in a jolt of shock I don't hear the list of others
that the Capitol has killed or captured.
Cinna is dead. I look down at my lap and try to conceal the tears, but it's no use. All I can
do is hope that I don't start wailing. I can no longer be a part of the conversations going on.
I can't even listen to them.
I skip my lunch and my exercise regime. I go back to our room, curl up in a ball and sit on
the edge of our bed, moving back and forth, so close to falling off, but then catching myself
and lean away again.
I cry salty tears, letting myself taste them when they trickle to the corners of my mouth.
Cinna, dead? The one person I always trusted, who always understood me? I can't wrap my
mind around it. I can't, or else I know I'll go insane again.
Peeta comes in after his dinner and finds me on my side, in a fetal position, my eyes red
and sore from crying. He gathers me up in his arms, where I remain, limp. I hold the
material of his shirt tight in my fingers. I don't want to let him go.
"I heard," he breathes in my ear. "I'm sorry, Katniss."
I shake my head and press into him deeper, no longer alone in my misery. He keeps his
hold on me tight, and I don't leave his arms, not until the next morning when we have to
part on account of our schedules.
I know I have to stick to my schedule. Meetings, training, dinner, back to the apartment. I
do it all robotically.
It's not just the loss of Cinna. It's something else that's making me act like this, likenot
myself. I worry if I'm having a relapse of my previous breakdown. But it doesn't feel the
same. The other I could feel in my head, it was my mind. In my heart, too. Thisthis
seemed to be racing through my veins, bodily rather than psychological.
My instructor seems to realize I'm not myself, though, and lets me go onto dinner early. I'm
able to catch Prim at the end of her meal toward the beginning of mine. She looks relieved
to see me. I sit down across from her and Rory. She tells him to go on, that she needs to
talk to me.
"Katniss," Prim says rather urgently. "You left behind your monthly portion for your period.
I've run out on mine, and I still have a day left. Do you need yours? Can I use a few?"
The doctors all do checks on girls when they get their period, determining how much supply
they'll need a month. Only, they seem to be rather stingy at times. Prim's had difficulty
keeping in her quota. This isn't the first time I'll have leant her my monthly portion.
"Go ahead," I say.
She smiles and says, "Thank you!"
Only when she leaves do I stop and this request suddenly make me feel as if I'm sinking
through the floor, lower than I've ever gone. Quickly, without tasting my food, I shovel it
down and dash out of the dining hall.
Next to the crazy ward was the women's health wing. A few times while I was there, a
woman would walk into our bathroom, since the women's ward didn't have one itself. Most
came out with disappointment on their faces. A few would shriek out of joy.
Here, where fertility became so important after the epidemic, they had tools to tell earlier
than those in District 12. Back home, some women would be several months along before
she knew. Here, they would know within the first few weeks. Everything had to be cared for
early, for optimal chance of survival.
The women's ward isn't very busy because it's dinnertime. Only a nurse taking care of a
sickly, bloated woman is there, and a far way down along the rows of bed and equipment
from the managing desk where I stand.
When I came to District 13, they didn't understand my refusal to the care their women
receive upon conceiving a child. I was pregnant, after all. I had announced it to all of Panem
just a few hours before.
"I'm not!" I shook my head and backing away from the doctors, still overcome with losing
Peeta.
"She's just in shock," A doctor said. "We need to get her to stay still for the ultrasound."
I didn't like the sound of whatever that was, so I begged, "What can I do to prove it to
you?"
They handed me a long strip and told me to urinate on it. I did, and their faces all fell when
I came out with it.
"Not pink," They sighed in disappointment.
While the nurse is busy, I search through the drawers quietly, moving like only a hunter
can. Finally, I find the one that I want. I grab up one of the sticks in plastic and shove it in
my pocket, hurrying away as the nurse turns to the noise of the drawer closing.
I don't stop running until I'm back in our room. Peeta's back as well, carefully ironing some
pants as I hurry into our tiny bathroom, slamming the door behind me.
Fumbling, I take the stick out of its plastic wrap and go. The stick shakes in my hand as I
wait for the results. Not pink, I think to myself. Not pink.
But slowly, the rosy color spreads and it's undeniable.
I'm pregnant.
I fall to the tile, Terror's cold hands gripped around me. Pregnant? We'd tried so hard
months ago, for so long. Nothing happened. We never got pregnant. And now we had just
moved back in together, just a week ago. How could this have happened?
Then, with a roll of my stomach, I know exactly when I got pregnant. Weeks ago, our first
time together since being separated.
But it wasn't supposed to happen. Not after we were free from the Capitol's threats. We
didn't need to get pregnant anymore, so we weren't supposed to. It wasn't supposed to
happen. It didn't before. So why now?
There's a knock at the door, and Peeta calls, "Katniss? Are you all right? You've been in
there a long time. Can I come in?"
I nod before realizing he can't see me, so I say, "Yes."
"Katniss?" He asks, coming down to the floor with me. I begin laughing like a crazy person,
and tears start streaming down my face. He takes my hands worriedly. "Katniss? What is
it?"
"We did this exact same thing on our wedding night," I say, wiping away the tears on my
face. "I broke down on the bathroom floor and you came in to find me."
"Why are you breaking?" Peeta asks, concerned. His grip on my hands tighten.
I look down at my lap, fearing to speak it. As if, keeping it inside of me, this will all just go
away. But he isn't buying it. He calls out impatiently, "Katniss?"
"I'mpregnant," I whisper, tears coming down again.
And now, Peeta begins laughing like a crazed person. But he looks happy about this. He
fully embraces me, kisses me, laughs some more.
"Why are you so giddy about this?" I push him away and standing up. "I'm pregnant! We're
going to have a baby! A real, breathing, human being that could be hurt or die"
"Katniss," Peeta stands up and holds me at the waist. "If you're pregnant, you can't go to
the Capitol. You can't die or get hurt. You'll stay here, safe."
I hadn't thought about that. I say, "So? That doesn't make the rest of it okay. All of the
pain, the suffering"
I place my hand over my stomach and my heart feels a stab of that pain. So much that
could go wrong
"We can deal with that then," Peeta says. "For now, both of you are safe. We'll find a way to
make sure it's always like that."
I'm not sure about this, but I know that he's right about one thing. I can't go into war
anymore.

The next day, Peeta comes in with me to my requested meeting with Coin. He's never
actually met her before. She doesn't deal with psychotic citizens, except, of course, for me
because she has to.
"You said this was urgent?" Coin doesn't seem to believe me.
"I can no longer go to the Capitol," I explain. "I found out yesterday that I'm pregnant."
Coin folds her hands on her desk before saying, "I don't see why this is a problem. We're
leaving in just a week, you won't be so huge."
"She has another life inside of her," Peeta says. "She can't go."
"If she were just another soldier, then she would be granted a pardon," Coin says. "But she
isn't. She's the Mockingjay. She must be seen fighting with the rest of them. She must go."
"No, she can't," Peeta's eyes take on a mix of fire and insanity. "This isn't right! She's not
going!"
Coin's mouth stretches into a thin line. "I am the President of District 13, of the rebellion. I
saved you from the Capitol, I gave you back to her for the two of you to do that and even
be able to get pregnant. She will be going, or the two of you both will be removed from
District 13 and our allied lands entirely."
Peeta stands there, shaking, and in horror, I realize it. My dream. The apples. Coin. Peeta,
falling again. Only this time, Peeta runs. I turn from Coin without being excused and follow
him until he goes into the closet I had shown him before. He shuts the door behind him, but
I pull it open again and step inside.
He's on the ground, convulsing and rocking, growling and clenching. I should have known
that this wouldn't last. He won't ever be whole again, not really. Whenever something
terrible like this happens, he's always going to revert back. And I'll always have to pull him
back out. The thought makes me tired.
"Peeta," I drop down to his level, taking his balled up fists in my hands.
"She can't do this!" Peeta barks. "She can't do it!"
"I don't know what we can do about it," I say. "It'll be fine, Peeta. It's just like before. It's
not too different."
"Yes it is," Peeta says.
I shake my head. "Peeta, what's the difference? You were able to accept me going before,
knowing I could die. What's the difference?"
"Katniss, you have a baby," Peeta speaks lowly. "If you die, so does the baby. I'll lose both
of you." My confused expression makes him explain. He slowly unclenches his fist and
places a hand over where our baby rests. "In there, is a piece of you. Part of me joined that
part of you, and we made someone else, from two parts of us. And that is our baby. Killing
it is killing us both."
I choke at the thought of this. I place my hand on top of his, pressing him into my flesh
even more. We both begin to breathe deeply as the words he says sinks in. If I die, so does
the baby. So does Peeta, or at least that part of him. And if he loses us bothhe would
never be able to get over that.
"I need to go with you," Peeta says. "I can't just sit here and wait for you."
"Peeta" I begin to shake my head.
"No! I have to go with you!" He shouts.
"Will they let you?" I ask him. "Will you be well enough? And you haven't been training,
Peeta."
"I can't let you go again," Peeta says. "Not after we were separated or when you were shot.
I'll only be okay now if we're together."
I feel so tired and drained of strength. I wonder if it's the baby or just everything that's
going on. I can't fight Peeta about this anymore. He's more set about this than I am. And,
selfishly, I want him there with me, too. But I also want him to be safe.
"I'm going, Katniss," Peeta says with finality. "No one is going to stop me."
"It can't be done!" Boggs is shouting at Peeta. But my husband refuses to back down. He
stares at Boggs defiantly, his mouth pressed into a hard line and his fingers gripping the
table as he leans forward with importance.
"Why not?" Peeta demands. I sigh and push my fingers to my temple, propped up by the
table. I'd sat down long ago, knowing that this argument would be nearly endless. Boggs
doesn't want to bring Peeta along because he hasn't been training and will only drag us
down. He suggests that if Peeta wants to help, Peeta should join one of the lower ranks. But
Peeta won't stand for that. Boggs doesn't know why Peeta insists on being in our brigade. I
begged Peeta not to tell anyone when I hadn't even fully accepted it yet. So far he's kept
his promise, although at times I know he just wants to burst out and tell Boggs.
"It won't work," Boggs says. "You aren't prepared for what we need to do."
"Which is filming more propos," I say. "You know that with me on the squad that's all we'll
do."
"Not if I can help it," Boggs says quietly.
Peeta pushes off of the table and says, "Well, you're not the one who has the last say in any
of this."
"Coin?" Boggs snorts. "I think Coin will see my point above yours. I know you want to
protect Katniss, Peeta, but our squad will work better with who we've got now. Coin knows
this."
"I know what?" A new voice comes into the room, and we all stop when we see that it is
Coin herself. She looks at us, expecting an answer.
"Mellark here wants in on the Capitol trip," Boggs explains. "With my squad."
Coin considers this, looking between the three of us. She's the only other person who knows
about mycondition. But I haven't hope for her permission. Boggs is right, of course.
Peeta's just desperate, he'll use every venue he has to get on my squad.
"Very well," Coin says.
Boggs slips in his stoic expression with shock, and Peeta squeezes my shoulder. I look up
and he's grinning triumphantly. I seem to have forgotten how to close my mouth for a
moment.
"President Coin," Boggs says, "you can't be serious."
"I am," Coin says. "It will keep them both less distracted if they can be together. They'll
focus on the mission more."
"President-"
She turns her cold gaze to Boggs and he stops, but still frustrated, his lips curved inward.
"As you wish," Boggs stiffly inclines his head to the president.
"Now if you would excuse us, Boggs, I would like to speak to Katniss and Peeta," Coin says.
Boggs nods his head and exits the room. Coin follows him with her eyes, waiting for the
click of the door before proceeding any further.
"I came to see if you've told anyone about your pregnancy," Coin says.
"No," I say. "Not yet."
"Very good," Coin says. "I wish it to remain that way."
"Why?" Peeta asks, his voice trembling. "Don't want anyone finding out that you're sending
out a pregnant woman to battle?"
"No, I don't," Coin says, her gaze steely. "You see, fertility is a very tender subject here in
District 13, where so many of us have lost that gift. Those who have retained it are precious
here. Pregnant women are pampered the nine months they carry a child. So yes, word
getting out that Katniss is going to war would be very, very bad."
"Because it's despicable," Peeta says, glowering at the president.
She, however, keeps her cool. If anything, she becomes even colder.
"This war is more than just one person, or one potential person. If Katniss does not go out
to lead, morale will decline. With that, we'll lose this battle. We could end up losing the war.
What would be the point in raising a child if the Capitol came back into power? To send him
off into the Games? Wouldn't it be better for that child to die instantly, painlessly, before
that would happen?"
I shudder, disappearing behind my hands as I cover my face. Peeta's hold on me tightens.
My worst fear, my child thrown into the world I had lived in. His life becoming so much
worse because of his parents, for what Peeta and I did to the Capitol. Death now would be
better than any of that.
"But if the people knew Katniss was pregnant, they would understand," Peeta says. "They
would know why she couldn't be there. It wouldn't affect their morale at all. Unless you
expect it to be that desperate."
"Always prepare for the worst," Coin says. "That's how District 13 has survived so long."
For some reason, this seemed like a suggestion to us more than a general rule. Peeta opens
his mouth to speak again, but Coin shakes her head.
"No more. Arguing with me is pointless, because I won't change my mind at all. All you can
do is prepare." She checks her watch and says, "In fact, you should go now. Training begins
soon."
Peeta and I leave. He's still fuming as we walk up to the training fields. His pace is so quick
that I almost have to jog to keep up with him.
"I can't believe her," Peeta says. "Heartless, cruel woman."
I shrug. "I guess I see her point."
"It's a cover-up," Peeta says. "There's something else going on behind it. I just can't figure
out what."
I'm glad to see the groups of people running, fighting, and strengthening themselves for the
upcoming battle. Peeta can't say anything else about the issue now with so many others
around who might overhear.
Boggs grumpily announces Peeta joining our ranks. Everyone else seems confused as well,
although more welcoming to the extra number than our leader. We go through our usual
routine, beginning with running and lifting. Peeta takes a few weights off of the bar I'm
attempting to lift. I scowl at him and put them back on, which makes him frown in return.
When we practice moves to get out of a captive situation, Peeta checks the gun three times
that he and I practice with to make sure it isn't loaded. Then when we move onto hand-to-
hand combat, Peeta never attempts to take a jab at me, but instead weakly blocks my
blows.
"Peeta! You need to let me practice for real. This won't help me at all if I get into a situation
like this, and you aren't helping yourself, either." I say.
But when he doesn't, Boggs switches with us so now I'm with him and Peeta practices with
Finnick.
"Stop!" Peeta jumps from his own practice when Boggs knocks me to the ground. "Stop,
that's far enough."
"Too bad you can't do that to the Capitol soldiers," I snap at him. "You aren't helping me
Peeta. You aren't helping" I pause, remembering Coin's warning. So I finish, "us."
Boggs shakes it off though. "That's time for today anyway. But Peeta, Katniss is right. You
need to give her more freedom."
Peeta blinks and shakes his head, seeming to realize what he had been doing. He grimaces,
and mutters, "Sorry."
I'm still angry at him, but I remembering the hijacking, and the turning of it to his paranoia
for my safety which had only increased because of my pregnancy. Peeta wasn't the same. I
had to give him some more slack, but it was hard when this could actually hurt me.
Everyone begins packing up the equipment. Peeta, to apologize I suppose, goes to help
Leeg 1 pack away some weights while I help Boggs move the pads back into the shed.
When the last one is in, Boggs stops me.
"Think we can talk for a minute, Katniss?" He asks me.
I nod.
"Look, I think something wrong is going on with Coin letting Peeta join our squad," Boggs
says. "Strategically, there's no point to it. I know that you'd be fine going by yourself. It's
just Peeta that needs to be with you. If she were really concerned about how this battle
turned out, she should put him in a different squad or leave him here."
"So what is she doing?"
"This is more than just a battle for our freedom," Boggs says. "With victory so close, there
has already been some talk about who should rule over the new Panem. Among the people,
your name hasn't been left out."
I'm in shock. "But I'm so young! I don't even want to be president."
"No, you don't," Boggs says. "But your opinion means everything to the people. They'll want
who you do, too. And Coin isn't confident of your trust being with her. You question her
during the war meetings, and never appear friendly to her. And if you don't support her, she
wants you gone."
"As indead?" My stomach becomes a pit of ice thinking of this.
"That, or so insane no one would listen to you."
"But what would?"
Then I realize it.
Peeta.
Dead.
If Peeta died, Coin would expect me to relapse into my previous insanity. No one would
listen to me. I probably wouldn't even respond them the way they would want me to. I'd be
put in the crazy room again, running away into closets to watch the drops of water fall. Coin
would take Panem easily.
"She would expect Peeta to do anything to protect you, even die himself," Boggs says. "The
chances of either or both of you dying increases when you're together."
I find myself trembling in fear and anger. She can't do this.
"Katniss?" Peeta comes peeking in. Apparently we had taken too long for him. He stood
anxiously at the door, but holding it back with his hands clasped together.
Boggs nods at me and I join my husband. We eat dinner. I'm not much for conversation
tonight. I'm thinking this all over in my head and conclude that Peeta can't go into battle at
all. He needs to stay here, safe. Where he can't get hurt or killed. There's less of a chance
of Coin winning. She'd only have the option of me dying, instead of the two of us.
When we go back to our apartment for reflection, Peeta asks right away what the matter is.
"Is it the baby?" He whispers as if there were spies.
I shake my head and recount the conversation that Boggs and I had. He flinches when I go
over how Coin is looking to kill me, but doesn't even flinch when I go over Coin's hopes in
what his own death would bring.
"You can't go," I conclude, holding his hands in mine. "You have to be safe, so that there's
less chance of her to win."
"I don't know if I could do that Katniss," Peeta whispers. "How could I leave you and the
baby like that?"
"Please," I say. "Please, don't give me reason to go insane."
Peeta's obviously conflicted. Every part of him is driven to protect me and our baby. But the
other part must see the disaster that could ensue if he went and died.
"I can't," Peeta finally says.
I throw his hands away and walk away, but he follows after me.
"Listen," he says. "I can't sit here while you fight. I have to protect you any way I can, even
if that means dying. If I do die, you know now that you can't let your mind slip. You fight it
Katniss, you understand? You fight the darkness and you live and have our child. You make
sure that life is safe. Prove Coin wrong. Be stronger than that. But I need to go with you
and make sure that happens."
I fight back the tears, imagining a horrible world with Peeta's baby, but without Peeta. It's
already ripping me apart.
"I don't know if I can," I say.
"You can," Peeta assures me, kissing my forehead. He rests his there.
"Then you do it, too," I say. "If I die, you need to fight, too. Let them know what Coin's
done to us."
He moves away to look in my eyes, his hand resting on my cheek. He nods his head
solemnly, pulling me into him and kissing me as if it were his last.
A/N Hey everyone! So some people have put together a fundraiser for all of the
floods happening in Queensland, Australia. The fundraiser is called Fandoms for
Fighting Floods and it's this: fanfiction writers are contributing one-shot(s) or
outtake(s) of their fics to a compilation based on fandoms. Then the fans donate
$5 and they will get the compilation of fanfictions from their fandom and be
helping out all of the victims of the floods. I am contributing TWO new one-shots
to The Hunger Games compilation that youwill not see here or anywhere else. If
you are interested in donating money or your own writing or want to find out
more, you can find the link to the charity in my profile. Thanks everyone! :)
We move out quietly. No parade or grand farewells. Only spouses clutching onto their other
half with tears held back, children wrapped around the legs of their parent. Everyone knows
this moment is the end and the beginning. The end of the war, perhaps the end of their
lives, and the beginning of something new in Panem. Even if we fail, if the Capitol regains
momentum, we will not escape without vengence as hard as the Capitol can push on us.
My mother has shift at the hospital this morning, so I said good-bye to her last night. She
didn't say anything to me, she couldn't even look me in the eye. After she hugged me
tightly, she squeezed my arm and moved away to preoccupy herself with sorting out some
bandages.
Prim, however, has come. She's long since passed me up in height, but for today, she
crouches down so that her head is tucked right under my chin, the way I held her when she
was young.
"You'll be safe, won't you Katniss?" Prim asks. For a moment, I see the little girl in her
again.
"I'll do my best," I promise.
She removes herself from me, but keeps her hands in mine. She's completely solemn, and
now ages older than I expected.
"You can't let them get to you now, after everything," she tells me.
I nod my head, swallowing a lump that just won't go down. I move away from her, not
wanting to lose my courage now. I had to go on this mission. I had to end the Capitol and
the president.
As Peeta and Prim say their good-byes, Gale approaches me, still limping with his cane.
"I didn't think you'd come," I say, surprised.
"How could I stay away?" Gale asks.
I shrug my shoulders and stare at the distance of cement floor between us, a distance that
is impossible for either of us to cross. I wish I could have gone secretly now. I didn't like
saying good-bye.
"You give 'em hell for me, okay?" Gale says. "Show those bastards who they've been
messing with."
"You wish you were going," I say.
"Obviously," Gale says. "Did what I could, but can't carry the gun anymore."
"So your traps were approved?" I ask.
"Confidential information, there," Gale says, trying to grin at me, but failing.
A voice over the runway booms, "Friends and family, back underground please. Soldiers, to
your hovercraft."
"Bye Gale," I say, turning back toward Peeta.
"Bye Catnip," He says back, not moving for as long as I keep my eyes on him.
Peeta reaches his hand out for me and I take it once again.

We land a mile from the line of our soldiers, where the Capitol is desperately trying to keep
us back. We're joined from the soldiers of the other districts, and we get a new addition to
our squad. Johanna Mason. It's clear when Cressida and the cameramen start to film her,
though, why she's joined me, Peeta, and Finnick. The propos will be focusing on the victors
rebelling against the Capitol, all of us united together.
The next day, we break across the borders as the Capitol retreats. However, once we get
far enough in, Paylor, who is heading this entire operation over everyone, commands all
squads to halt for now and make camp.
"It's the pods," Boggs tells us after a meeting he attended. "The Capitol has the entire area
trapped with them, and they'll go off. We're taking a break for the captains to go over the
set-up. Plutarch's just updated information on them, with new pods we didn't know about."
"What'll the pods do?" Leeg 2 asks.
Boggs shrugs. "We don't know about all of them. Some have monsters, fire pits, poisonous
gas, all kinds of things that are meant to destroy enemies. Of course, we'll have to set some
off, so the Capitol doesn't have soldiers marching in without landing on any. I have the
marked ones that we need to set off."
He shows us the virtual map on the Capitol, with red dots throughout the streets, with some
green ones as well, all trailing along a path that leads up to Snow's mansion. My heart
sprints as I picture climbing up those marble stairs, smashing through the doors, and
discovering Snow trembling, his knees to the ground, searching for my mercy
I blink myself back to the conversation, which ends with Boggs assigning us all look-out
duty. Peeta and I get the same watch, which isn't surprising. I'm sure even if Boggs
assigned us differently, Peeta would protest.
The night runs smoothly, without any disturbances. In the morning, we set off in the
streets. The stress that we'd once felt in beginning this journey loosens from our stomachs
as we get going. Really, this journey is easy. We walk along, not coming across another
soldier or civilian, and sets off the pods as Boggs instructs by shooting a bullet at a stone,
or a pot, or window. They've selected the most harmless of the pods for us to set off, which
is usually a brief explosion, or a beam of light erupting that none of us are sure will do,
although none want to find out.
"Do you think Snow's given up?" Peeta asks me as we walk along, holding our guns out and
ready.
"Of course he hasn't," Johanna scoffs from behind us. "We're still on the outskirts of the
Capitol. He's keeping all of the protection in the center, where he is. That's when the real
fun will happen."
Peeta frowns. I suppose he had been hoping for a nice, clean surrender. While that would
be nice, it wasn't likely. Snow has more pride than that.
A gun shot rings out without warning. Boggs hadn't called for a pod to be loosened. I scan
the rooftops for snipers of the enemies, but I don't see any. I glance at my teammates, and
they're puzzled as well.
"Katniss!" Peeta points down at my feet.
A purple, gooey substance is on my boots, where I see that a ceramic pot about fifty yards
away has been broken and the goo slugs from it.
"Ew," I move to step out of it, but my feet are stuck. I jerk my leg up, but nothing happens.
I remain glued to the floor. I breathe in and out deeply. So my feet are stuck. I can always
just take off my boots and step out of this stuff.
But the purple goo begins crawling up my legs, trapping me in even more. My eyes widen in
panic and I look to Peeta for help. Peeta sticks his gun at the edge of the substance, but it
just gets stuck along with it. It flows up my calves, to my knees, onto my thighs
"What do we do?" I ask, my voice higher than usual.
Everyone stands there, unsure of what to do. Peeta looks around, as if the answer were
somewhere else. Finnick is running off, where to I don't know. My legs begin to feel hot, so
unbearably hot. I scream out in pain, then clench my jaw together to try and keep it inside.
I don't want Peeta to see me like this, he won't be able to take it. But it's so hard. The
purple goo burns me, and looking down, my pants are being dissolved by the goo. My skin
flames as if dosed in acid.
"Help me!" I scream, but everyone stands there, all unable to do anything. The substance
continually grows up my legs and onto my hips. Soon, it will reach my stomach and my
baby.
Then Finnick comes running in the circle, a long hose in hand. He sprays my legs down,
getting everywhere the goo covered me. It becomes saturated by the water, and slides off
of me. I lunge forward, and Peeta hurries forward and catches me to prevent me from
falling.
"Get back Peeta," Finnick says, "We need to make sure it's all off her. They used this same
stuff in a Games a few years ago. The only tribute that escaped it got it on his hand, then
ran into a pond where it came off."
Peeta reluctantly steps away as Finnick completely soaks me in the water. I sputter and pull
the dripping hair out of my eyes. I want to glare at Finnick for that, even though I know he
did it to save me.
"Ok, who set off that pod?" Boggs faces the group with his nostrils flaring. "That pod wasn't
on our list!"
"It was him," Johanna points to Benny. "He aimed his gun at the pot and he shot it."
I'd never really talked to Benny. He didn't talk much anyway, so it wasn't that surprising.
His black hair grows only a quarter of an inch from his scalp, and he's in need of more neck.
Tall and beefy, with deep-set eyes, he never catches the idea of being friendly.
"I thought that was on the list," Benny says, his voice rumbling.
"Even if it were, I didn't order for it to be shot," Boggs says. "Next time anyone shoots a
pod without the go-ahead first, labeled or not, will be off the squad."
Peeta picks up his gun and takes his place by my side again, glaring at Benny whenever he
can. I look at my legs, which are red and tender to touch, but otherwise aren't too bad. My
shoes are salvageable, with only the laces eaten away and some of the rubber getting
warped. My pants now just go to my knees, which makes me feel vulnerable as we marched
through the rest of the day.
When we finally stop, my legs get checked out. I put a cream on them, and right away
there's relief. We eat our supper and get our assignments for watch again. Peeta and I have
it first, which is wonderful, because once we're done, we'll be able to sleep the rest of the
night.
Once our shift is done, Peeta and I go into our tent to get some sleep. It's uncomfortable,
but necessary, to sleep in our uniforms. I make my pack into my pillow, trying to find a soft
spot to place my head.
"That was close today," Peeta says, taking my hand. "I'd thought I'd lose both of you."
"It was just an accident," I say. "Nothing like that will happen again."
"Was it an accident?"
"Of course it was."
"You don't think that Coin could have sent someone in our group to make sure you were
finished off?"
I want to deny this, that the chance one of the two of us dying would be enough for Coin.
But my throat dries up, and I know that nothing is beneath Coin. Not even sending an
assassin. My face reflects my realization, of shock and worry.
Peeta kisses me, and says, "We just have to look out. Make sure he walks ahead of us. Let's
just go to sleep."
I nod my head and close my eyes, and I'm tired enough that I float between sleep and
consciousness, my mind worried about what sort of awful things Benny is planning to kill
me. I try not to relive the burning of my calves, the panic that I would die
"I was worried I'd lose you today," Peeta's voice whispers. But it'soff. It isn't by my head.
It's further down. I crack my eyes open to see that Peeta's scooted down so that his face is
right next to my stomach. I close my eyes again, wanting to get back into that floating
state
"But you're okay, aren't you?" Peeta keeps whispering. "The goo, it didn't get to where you
are. You're okay." He lets out a deep breath. "I guess I can kind of understand how your
mother feels now. It is stressful, to say the least, having a child, even one that hasn't been
born. So much can go wrong. Not that I don't want you, of course. It's just going to make
me age faster." He pauses, then continues. "She does want you, you know. Even if she says
otherwise. Your mother is just afraid of loving too deeply, because she's afraid of getting
hurt. And you could hurt her the most. But she loves you. And I love you, too."
I feel something against my stomach, through my armor. Peeta presses his face against it
for a moment, then moves away and takes his place by me. I close my eyes again, and let
him think that the conversation was only between the two of them.
When I wake up the next morning, I stretch and put my hand to my stomach instinctively,
my thumb rubbing across it soothingly, although with the armor, I couldn't actually feel it.
My baby couldn't feel it.
I jerk my hand away. My baby, feeling? I'd spent most of my time trying to think of this
child as a little blob, just floating around inside of me. I didn't want to think about
it feeling. Of course, I try not to think about it at all. But Peeta's little chat last night made it
harder for me. I mean, he actually talked to it, like it could hear and understand. Of course
it couldn't really, though.
Could it?
I sit up and curl inward, trying to protect what is inside of me. Quietly, I close my eyes, and
feel back inside of me, down into my navel. I don't push away the image of a fuzzy little
white thing. I focus on it, and I imagine a small child, so tiny, so helpless and innocent. I
have to hold back a sob and open my eyes again.
I don't want you to get hurt. I don't want you to die.
But fear is prominent in my gut. What can I do? What can I do to prevent this when I'm
going into a war zone, with Benny more than likely trying to make sure I end up dead under
Coin's orders? And even if I survive, what then? I imagine giving birth to the child in a few
months time. Born into a war-torn country, with two struggling parents, and only death
blazing the pathway ahead of it, that will be the life it knows.
Miserably, I know nothing is to be done. I can't save this child. But I want to. I want this
child to have more than what I can give it. I want it to have a real, safe life.
"Katniss?" Peeta rubs his eyes and sits up. "You okay?"
I nod my head as stoically as possible. Peeta knows better by now. He kisses the top of my
head and says, "We've gotten through a hell of a lot. We can get through this, too."
I lean against his shoulder and don't say anything, because I want him to feel like he's
making me a little bit better. And I don't want to make him feel worse. My negativity won't
help the situation.
We get up and head out to camp, where everyone is gathered for breakfast. We eat quickly
and pack our supplies again, getting ready for the rest of the journey.
"The day ahead of us should be clear," Boggs says. "It seems that Snow has located all of
his troops at the heart of the city. It'll be a few days before the big show."
I start to walk, but Peeta takes hold of my arm and shakes his head, his eyes shifting to
Benny, who's still fiddling around with the straps on his pack. I wait with Peeta until Benny
finally gets everything in place and heads out with the others. Then, we turn and follow.
Like Boggs said, the journey is easy. We have to shoot a few pods along the way, but none
of them make us stop and pause. Nothing like yesterday happens. But neither Peeta nor I
can join the others' lightheartedness through the smoothest part of the mission. After all,
yesterday was supposed to be smooth as well. And as long as Benny was in our squad and
alive, there was no way Peeta or I could chance being off-guard.
We make camp again, we rest, and we head out in the morning. Once again Peeta and I
station ourselves behind Benny. Oftentimes, I see him glancing behind, and glaring at us. I
don't think his first plan was supposed to go unsuccessful, and he didn't know how else to
get rid of me without being obvious about it.
Our third morning out, and Boggs says, "We're almost there. We'll get to the front lines
today, right where Snow and his army is waiting for us. We'll have to see what they want us
to do when we get there, if we should attack or hold our fire for a little while. Butbe
prepared."
Peeta and I go back into our tent to pack our things again. And there, he begins kissing me
suddenly. I'm taken off-guard. Since we'd been in this war together, he hadn't done much
more than a brief peck. But this one kiss fills all of me, overwhelming me to the brim and I
want more, but we can't have it right here.
"Peeta," I pull away. "Peeta, we need to pack."
"Yeah, yeah sorry," Peeta says. He moves back, but keeps my hands in his. "But it's really
close now, isn't it? I had to get it in while I could."
"You'll have plenty more opportunity," I say, trying to sound indifferent.
He smiles slightly. "I'm hoping. And I can't wait until a few months from now."
My stomach gets cold and sick.
"I don't want to think about that," I say.
"Katniss-"
"No," I say. "I can only deal with one thing at a time. First, I want to get through this war.
Then I can think about this baby and the pregnancy. But not now."
I furiously zip up my pack and leave the tent. As soon as I get out, Boggs is grabbing my
arm and leading me away from the group, the look on his face hard. He turns me around to
face him and asks, "Did I just hear you say that you're pregnant?"
"I didn't know you were listening."
"I was passing by," Boggs says. "So it's true?"
I nod my head. "Coin didn't want anyone to know, though."
"Coin knew," Boggs covers his mouth with his hand, scratching his chin. He shakes his
head. "You shouldn't be out here."
"I know that, but Coin wouldn't listen to us!"
Boggs shakes his head again, and I can tell he's holding back all of the anger in him.
"Pregnant," he mutters. "Low, even for her."
Then he looks back up at me and says, "You're making it through this. Screw Coin."
And with that, he rejoins the group, and I follow slowly, moving back to help Peeta finish
taking down our tent. Boggs keeps glancing at the two of us, which usually follows him
shaking his head angrily or, even worse, getting looks of pity.
"Boggs knows," I tell Peeta.
"Good," He says. "Someone else ought to. We need all of the pairs of eyes we can get,
especially now."
Once we're all packed up, we leave. Boggs, however, decides to let Mitchell take lead, while
he walks ahead of Peeta and I. Beside him is Benny, which is no coincidence I'm sure. But
as we're walking into an area filled with Snow's army, I'm not quite as concerned right now.
Then Boggs orders us to halt our progress as he looks at the Holo. After a moment he says,
"We're going to stop here to wait for further instruction. Don't start making camp yet-"
Peeta suddenly moves in front of me and pushes me backwards. I don't understand as my
body goes flying back and lands on the hard ground until I hear the explosion. I only have a
moment to watch the orange, flaming fingers reaching up before Peeta covers me with his
body even more.
It was a small explosion, the kind that comes from one of our grenades, and I don't have to
guess who sent it toward me.
"You okay?" Peeta asks, breathing hard and moving off of me.
"Yeah," I say. "Fine."
I sit up and watch the scene in front of us with horror-filled eyes. The grenade sent bits of
material flying, and pods are hit. The ground quivers and begins to open up along the
street. Peeta and I, already flung to the side, are able to react more quickly than those
standing in the middle. As it opens, we both know not to hang around long enough to see
what it does.
"Up!" I shout at Peeta, and we turn to the houses. One has a low-slanting roof with a porch.
We use the railing as a boost and climb up on the house, travelling up to the second story.
Some sort of slick, sandy material covers a good deal of street now, and both Leeg 1 and 2
and Mitchell have slipped into it, and can't get out. Boggs and Benny climbed up by the
house ahead of us, while Johanna, Finnick, Jackson, Homes, and the camera crew are on
the other side of the street, on the roof of opposing houses.
"What do we do?" I ask Peeta frantically. "What do we do?"
But he shakes his head as we watch the three of our comrades sink down lower and lower,
screaming. We all glance between each other, but we have no idea what to do. As I'm
anxiously looking for a way for them to escape, despairing as the sand is up to their
stomach, their chest, their shoulders
A fire of a gun goes off, and I quickly turn to see Boggs and Benny on the roof next to us.
Boggs had grabbed the gun from Benny. And it isn't hard to guess who his target had been.
I take out my bow, since I feel more comfortable with it than my gun, and decide Benny
simply needs to go. But he and Boggs are struggling so much for position over the gun, I
can't shoot. I could very well aim for Benny, but in one quick move could leave the arrow in
Boggs. I still keep my arrow posed and ready to fly in case opportunity should present itself.
Several shots are fired, and one hits another pod, or at least I assume so. I don't see, but
the others on the opposite side begin to cry out.
After a few minutes, Benny, the larger of the two men, grapples and gets hold of the gun
and right as I send my arrow flying into his skull, his finger pulls the trigger.
Boggs falls first, shortly followed by Benny. I glance at the distance between houses and
jump as Peeta cries out in warning. I land on the roof, losing my footing and sliding down a
ways before catching myself. I grab onto the tile for balance and then crawl to my fallen
commander.
He's still panting, clutching onto his bleeding middle. I cover my mouth for a moment, but
then flutter around him, trying to think of what my mother or sister would do right now. I
need to stop the bleeding. I think. I don't know with what, though.
But Boggs is moving quickly for someone in death, messing with the Holo and saying so
many things so fast I don't catch them until after a face scan he says, "Unfit for command.
Transfer of prime security clearance to Squad Four-Five-One Soldier Katniss Mellark." Then,
weakly, he turns the Holo to me. "Say your name."
"Katniss Mellark," I say, and then I'm blinded by lines of green light. I blink to get the light
away from my vision so I can see what's happening.
"You have control now," Boggs says, breathing hard. Peeta appears beside us, but confused.
I shake my head. "I can't."
"You're the Mockingjay," He reminds me with a smile. "Follow the path on. It'll show you the
route command wants us to go. You can do it."
Then he rests his head back, and closes his eyes, as if he was about to go to sleep.
"Boggs," I say, shaking his shoulder uselessly. "Boggs!"
I hold the Holo in my hands and look at Peeta, who has clearly understood what's
happened. We look at Boggs, and for a moment, I expect to hear a cannon go off. But
there's only silence. No one has marked Boggs' death but us.
"Benny's dead, too," Peeta tells me. "He was when I got there."
I nod stiffly and stand. I have the Holo. I'm in command now. I'm in command. I feel
strangely empty. It just doesn't seem possible. But it is. Boggs is dead and he put me in
command. But then I remember Jackson. She's second in command. I can turn it over to
her.
"We should climb down," Peeta says.
He helps me up and then we jump over one more house, and climb down. The sand pit is
empty now, and I know that the three of them are gone like Boggs. Johanna, Finnick,
Homes, and the camera crew meet us on the ground.
"What the hell was that?" Johanna asks. "What happened?"
"Where's Jackson?" I ask, looking for her.
"When the gun went off, a bullet hit a pod," Finnick explains. "These metal stars went flying
out. Jackson got hit too many times. I didn't fair so well myself." He gestures to his arm,
which has a wrapping around it now. "Two of them hit me, pretty close together, but only in
the arm. One lodged itself straight in Jackson's heart."
I gulp. Jackson isn't alive. Which means I really am in command.
"So what the hell happened?" Johanna asked.
"Benny's been trying to kill me," I say simply. "The grenade was meant for me, only Peeta
saw it coming and then the sand pit opened, and on the roof he tried to shoot me but Boggs
stopped him and got hit himself. I shot Benny. He's dead too." I realize this makes no
sense, but my brain is fuddled.
"Boggs put the Holo in Katniss' command," Peeta finishes.
"Well, what's next?" Homes asks.
"Um, hold on, let me check," I say. I fiddle around with the thing, watching the red light
blinking. I breathe out. "I think we're supposed to wait."
"Good with me," Johanna says. "But let's move on a bit, shall we?"
I glance back at the disaster and nod my head. We go a block further and make camp. The
extreme loss of number has us all sobered up. Finnick draws out a length of rope and starts
making knots again. Homes cleans his gun out. Peeta's arms come around me. Johanna
practices throwing knives. The camera crew checks their equipment and the shots that they
already got.
"So why did Benny have it in for you?" Finnick asks, glancing up from his rope.
"No idea," I lie.
"It's obvious, isn't it?" Johanna turns back to us. "It's Coin. That dictator wants the power
Katniss has over everyone else, and she thinks making sure Katniss dies will transfer that
over to her."
Peeta's hold around me tightens.
"Well," Finnick says. "We'll just have to make sure that doesn't happen again."
I sadly look down the street, where Boggs' corpse lies, and hope no one else dies for me
again.

In the morning, the Holo is flashing green along the path we should go. From what I can
gather, this means we should walk along there today. In the center of the city, there's
yellow dots flashing all over the place, but I don't know what it means.
"Battle," Homes says. "They want us to go in and attack today, now. It's almost over."
I take hold of Peeta's hand and squeeze it. He looks at me, and it feels like the last day in
the arena. We're either going to live or die, and we know it. This is the beginning or the
end.
We begin to march in. No pods are marked to set off. Everyone is on their toes, waiting for
the battle to begin. I don't completely trust the guide given by the Holo, so every block or
so, I climb the top of a building to look ahead. Once, I see the white uniforms of the
Peacekeepers flanking all around the Circle, the heart of the city. There are too many of
them for just us. I climb down and give my report.
"So what do we do?" Peeta asks.
"I don't know," I say, rubbing my temples, thinking.
"We could try to find another squad," Finnick suggests.
"I'll try and contact the other commanders," I say, looking at the Holo and completely
puzzled. Yet despite all eight of us trying to figure out the Holo, we can't find how to contact
everyone else. By late afternoon, we're standing around it, unsure of what to do or where to
go.
I break everyone into guarding shifts, and we decide to wait it out. I still fumble with the
Holo, attempting to finding a way to communicate with the rest of our side. I get nothing
and fall into a frustrated sleep.
During dawn, though, we hear gunfire and cries coming out. I jump up and climb to the roof
to see what's happening. In the distance, the rebels are breaking through one side. I shout
down what's happening to everyone else as I watch the Peacekeepers get pushed farther
and farther back and all of our soldiers spill into the Circle.
"It's not far!" I exclaim. "Only four blocks! Come on, let's go!"
We quickly get our things together and run the four blocks down to where the battle has
broken out. Our rebels are on the roof, shooting down on the crowds in the circle. Which, I
soon realize, are filled with civilians as well as Peacekeepers. Some of them fall, as their
sloppy shots miss the soldiers. A large group of rebels push ahead to Snow's mansion.
"What are they doing?" I scream. "Why are they shooting into the people?"
"They're stopping!" Homes points, and sure enough, they've set down their guns, and some
people are even climbing down to join the throng pushing into President Snow's mansion.
"Come on," Finnick says grimly, and knowing we need to join our army, we march through.
Peeta, however, holds me back at the threshold of the circle and the fighting.
"You know you shouldn't even be here in your condition," Peeta says. "Wait here. I'll go in
and fight. But you shouldn't go in. Not with the baby."
I know he's right. No decent person would expect a pregnant woman to fight like this. I'm
looking for a hiding place when a familiar blonde braid swings in the distance. I focus my
eyes on her and feel my stomach dropping. What is Prim doing here?
"Prim!" I shout and break from Peeta's grip. He calls after me, running after me. I notice the
red cross on Prim's arm and watch her as she tries to help a fallen Capitol woman bandage
up. I call her name again, and this time she looks up.
Then, a loud sound comes from the middle of the Circle and a yellow gas comes crawling
out at a surprisingly swift pace. The crowd everywhere begins screaming and trying to
escape it as it overtakes them. Prim begins to haul the woman she holds away from it. I
stop as I see the gas. Peeta's tugging at me to move back, but quickly, Gale's words come
back to me, his bitter, angry words.
What it does is release a gas. It's harmful if enough of it is inhaled, but for economic
purposes, it isn't lethal. But, as people run away from the gas, they run into a set of bombs.
And that is what will really kill them.
That is what will really kill them.
"Prim!" I shout again and run toward her as she comes running to me. Peeta's close behind
me, shouting at me. We fight the panicked crowd as people try to push us down.
"Katniss, the other way!" Prim cries at me. I grab her and force her toward the gas, against
the flood of people, and against her will. The crowds keep Peeta behind us, not enough to
seize at me, even with Prim struggling against me. Some people around us have already
fallen. Prim pleads and screams, tears running down her face.
I slow, my mind becoming fogged and unclear. Why am I going this way? Why? I killed us
all, I must have
Prim drops to the ground. I stop, too, woozy with the fumes piercing my nose and throat. I
turn as Peeta holds my arm, finally caught up to us, but he's too weak from breathing in the
gas as well. I blink, and then fall down. My eyes are closed and I force them open once
more. This can't be it. I can't be dying. I couldn't have killed Prim. As my eyes open,
though, I see Peeta fallen beside me. I've killed him, too. I've killed us all.
The last thing I see through the haze of the yellow clouds is the bright, fiery flower
blooming in the sky.
A/N Sorry I'm not updating as fast as usual, but I'm really busy this semester.
Just be patient with me please. :)
I hear before I can lift my eyes. I hear the steady beeping of machines, heavy footfalls, a
nurse's whispered singing. I hear my mother's voice, anxiously speaking to the doctor. I can
only assume this means I'm not dead.
I don't know how long I stay in a world without sight. But eventually, the ability comes to
me. It's a struggle to raise my eyelids, and so I close them just as soon. A few hours later I
find the strength to keep them open.
I'm alone in my room. I don't know if this means Peeta and Prim are dead. I push the
thought away, but the worry still crouches in my chest, ready to spring upon me. I'm
attached to all sorts of needles and plugs. I frown at them and turn my face away, feeling
so tired again.
I close my eyes once more, and I begin to float into a sea of darkness when the door opens.
I react to the sound and find a sturdy-looking nurse coming in.
"Waking up right on time," the nurse says.
"What happened?" I ask. "Where's Peeta? Prim?"
"They're both alive," the nurse tells me. "Peeta woke up last night. Prim is still in recovery,
but she should be fine."
I breathe out a sigh of relief. They're okay. My mind is foggy, and I can't remember much
about the last attack. In fact, I don't even know if we've won the war, or if battle is still
going on. But once my fuddled brain can come up with questions, the nurse is gone. For the
moment, knowing that the two people I care about most are safe is enough for me and I
sleep again.

When I wake up, the doctor is there, and in a quiet tone, he tries to explain everything
that's happened. I was right about the trap. The poison used wasn't lethal, but it did take a
whole staff of medical experts to help the victims recover. Instead, the bomb killed most of
the people there in that battle.
"You, Peeta, and Johanna were the only ones to survive from your squad," the doctor says.
"Johanna got caught in the gas immediately. Finnick and Homes were on the edge enough
that they tried to run away, but, of course the bombs"
I didn't know Homes very well, but Finnick. I had just gone to his wedding a few weeks ago.
The image of him twirling with Annie, so happy, breaks my heart. He didn't deserve it. After
everything he had suffered, how could his life end just as it had been happy?
"Someone else you were rather close to died as well," the doctor says. "The boy you
mentored, Rory Hawthorne."
I stare at him, uncomprehending.
"Rory wasn't there," I say.
"He was as part of the medical staff," the doctor explains. "He got caught in the same trap
as everyone else. He ran from the gas and ended up in the bombs."
I cover my face with my hands. Prim. She'll be heartbroken when she hearsI think back to
my own pain when Peeta had been taken from by the Capitol. With how feeling my sister is,
I can't doubt the extent of my experience being similar to hers. But it will probably be
worse. Rory is dead. He's not coming back, there's not the slightest chance.
Then I think of Gale. His own plan killed his younger brother. I shudder, thinking of his guilt.
Hadn't I warned him? I stood over those plans with him, and told him how despicablebut
he wouldn't listen. And now Rory's dead.
The doctor explains soon after the bombs went off, President Snow surrendered. He's under
trial right now, but there can be no doubt his conviction and sentence. Death. I'm only
pacified by this news slightly. Even after hearing about Homes, Finnick, and Rory, and
knowing it's Snow's doing, there's one person more I'm raging against. Coin.
Coin had to approve the trap and its use. She sent Benny to our squad to kill me. She's
corrupt and horrible and from the pit of my stomach, I hate her, more than anyone I've
ever known. But from what the doctor tells me, she's as good as the new president.
I fume and cross my arms and don't know what to do. Will my life and Peeta's still be in
danger with Snow in power? And what of our child? Coin wants her power. The Hunger
Games started because the Capitol wanted power. Who's to say Coin won't just be the next
Capitol? We'd just almost annihilated our species. We can't have a new Capitol in power.
"There's one more thing Katniss," the doctor says. I turn my head toward him again, even
though my mind's still partially on this new rage against Coin. He goes on, "I don't think you
knew it, but you were pregnant before the battle in the Capitol."
"I know I'm pregnant," I say. "But Coin made me go anyway."
"No, Katniss," the doctor says gently. "You aren't pregnant anymore."
We both pause. He looks sympathetic, but my stare is deadly.
"What?"
"The poison used in the attack is not lethal to a grown person," the doctor explains. "But to
a fetus, only a few weeks old, it's enough to kill it. Breathing it in, sending the poison to the
fetusit couldn't have survived. While we were working on you, you had a miscarriage."
Numbness and shock spread across my limbs, making me immobile. I place my hand over
my stomach, searching for some sign that this stupid doctor is wrong. I'm pregnant. The
stick had said I was. Andand it couldn't just be goneit couldn't
I spend the next several hours in denial about it. I don't know why. It's not as if I
actually wanted to be pregnant. I should be happy. But I'm not. I had been pregnant. I had
a child. And it was ripped from me before it had even lived. Snow, the Capitol, Cointhey
had won in the end. I got pregnant. My child died.
When Peeta's well enough, he comes to see me. I'm free from all of the needles and wires
and can move around the room, but they keep me here in this room. Just looking at me,
and Peeta's eyes fill with tears. I look away from him so I don't start crying, too. But it's
useless.
"Katniss," he whispers, gathering me in his arms. I don't push him away, but I don't
envelope into him like I once did. My chest is tight with pain. And for once, Peeta's
closeness doesn't comfort me. His closeness is what is causing this unrelenting aching in
me.
"Don't tell me we can have another one," I beg him.
"Not now," he promises.
"No," I move away from him, holding his hands tightly in mine. "Never. I don't ever want a
child."
Peeta's face falls more and he raises my hand to his mouth and kisses it, then presses it to
his cheek. "If that's what you want."
I remove my hand from his face and tell him coldly, "It is."

I'm the one who recovers before Prim. But given the circumstances, it doesn't surprise
anyone. I'm allowed to walk down to see her, but I'm not sure if I'm ready for this. I worry
what I'll find when I see her.
I find my sister, sitting up in bed, completely empty.
"Katniss," she says when I come in and sit down.
"Prim."
Her blue eyes fill with tears, and she begins crying. Not the quiet kind, either. Sobs make
her shake and quiver. They overcome her entire being as I sit there, helpless.
"I should be dead," she weeps. "I should be dead just like him."
"No, Prim," I say.
"Yes!" Prim exclaims. "I was running that way. I was running the same way as him!"
"You can't wish you were dead Prim," I say. My heart contracts at the thought of it. Both
Prim and my baby? I wouldn't have been able to take it.
"Aren't I though?" She wonders.
When I leave her room from the visit, I'm not doing any better. Nothing was worse than
imagining Prim dead physically. But this, what she was going through losing the first and
only boy she's ever loved is pretty close to it.
I take to what I did when Peeta was with the Capitol. I wandered. I wandered the halls, the
rooms, out of the hospital, and realize that I'm in Snow's mansion. I explore everywhere,
until I come and stop at a hallway where many people are filing out of, all looking grave.
Snow's being led, handcuffed, away by two guards.
"So, you out and about now?" Haymitch says from behind me. I jump, but don't respond
any further.
I scrutinize Coin, with her overly perfect hair and her smug expression. She's speaking to a
man that I've never seen before. He's tall, upright, with a severe look on his face.
"Snow's officially been found guilty of a whole slew of war crimes," Haymitch says. "The
bastard's finally going to get what's been coming to him.
"Who's that?" I ask, nodding in the direction of the crowd. "The one talking to Coin?"
"Abraham Smith," Haymitch says as I watch Coin walk away from the man. "He's the
prosecutor for the worst of the war crimes. So are you going to wander around some more
or should we get you back to your room?"
I barely hear this last sentence, I'm so focused on this Abraham Smith that I shake my
head and walk away from Haymitch. There's too much buzzing in my ear at once right now.
Too much information, too many possibilities. This could get me killed for sure.
But as I approach Abraham Smith, I know that I've been ready to die for years now. This
will just be my final test.
A/N Sorry it's been long between updates, but life happens. On a note similar to
an A/N a few chapters back, I'm now going to be participating in
Fandoms4Tsunamis. It's the same concept as Fandom4Floods where people write
one-shots or outtakes and then those who donate toward the cause (in this case
it's for the tsunami which has recently occurred) get a compilation of the
fanfictions written. So donate or write a fanfiction for yourself! I have the link in
my profile now. :) And I'm also open to suggestions on what you'd want me to
write my piece on. If you'd want an outtake from a fic I've written or if you want a
new one-shot, if you have an requests let me know, and then donate so you can
read it!
"What you're asking of me is suicidal," Mr. Smith says, leaning back in his chair as we sit in
his office. "To try President Coin for war crimes? It wouldn't be allowed."
"But shouldn't we hold our own to what we try our enemies for?" I ask. "Why does what she
did make it okay, just because we won?"
"Yes, it does," Mr. Smith says.
"But everything she's done!" I scream, jumping from my chair and pushing forward to hover
over his desk. "Would you let someone on the enemy's side do that? Would you let them
get off? We can't let her run the country, don't you see? We can't let it happen! But I can't
do it, I don't know all the legal stuff. You do. Why won't you help me?"
"You certainly are the girl on fire," Mr. Smith says, coming forward and clasping his hands
together, resting them on the desk. "But at this point, Mrs. Mellark, I'm afraid that the only
points you have is speculation."
"She sent me into war pregnant," I say. "Peeta can testify of that. Johanna and Peeta can
testify about Benny, about how he killed Boggs, and he was sent to kill me. And Gale, Gale
must know something about his trap."
"The bombs which exploded were of the Capitol's making-"
"No they weren't! Gale showed the plans to me, that's how I knew to go toward the gas!"
Mr. Smith shakes his head, which sends me into a whirlwind of anger.
"Do you have any children, Mr. Smith?"
"Two," Mr. Smith said. "And a new baby granddaughter."
"Do you wonder what life will be like where someone who sends assassins out because
someone is a political threat to them rules the country? Someone who kills first and asks
questions later?"
"We were at war, Mrs. Mellark," Mr. Smith says. "These things happen."
"Well, I believe that our toughest times bring out our true character," I say. "Coin shows
she'll be a power-hungry, abusive leader by what she's done. Your granddaughter could be
the next victim of her plots."
He starts, fear finally showing in his eyes. He flits his gaze back and forth, all around the
room, before settling back into mine.
"There have beenwhisperings that they may indeed bring back The Hunger Games," Mr.
Smith says. "Against the Capitol children this time."
My stomach turns sick, crawling with disgust. They could not be serious.
"I have long been a spy for District 13 here in the Capitol," Mr. Smith says. "But I worry
how much that will really help my family in the future."
"So you'll do it, won't you?"
Mr. Smith looks me straight in the eye and he sighs. "I suppose I don't see how I can't.
Even if it will kill us both."

In the two weeks that follow, I go to Mr. Smith's office to tell him what I know and who else
he should talk to. For the witnesses, I mostly have to talk with those we have lined up,
since Mr. Smith doesn't know any of them.
I visit Peeta in his recovery room to ask him to testify about my pregnancy and Benny's
attempting to kill me.
"Of course I will Katniss," Peeta says, taking my hand. "I'm just worried about what this'll
mean if you don't win."
"Coin sets up an accident for me," I say, the dj-vu of the same worry hitting me with a
cruel humor I couldn't laugh at.
"She will either way, though, won't she?" Peeta asks. "Best to try and stop her while we're
at it."
I nod my head, and for a moment, death and rest seem nice. Peaceful. Next to the horrors
of living, almost worth it. But I can't let Prim live in a world like this, where Coin rules. I
can't let the terror continue. So I can't die. I can't have rest. It makes me exhausted.
"I think we'll be able to move into our own quarters soon," Peeta says in effort to lighten the
heavy atmosphere. "Shouldn't be as long as last time took."
I try to smile, but the attempt is pitiful, and Peeta notices it. He kisses me anyway. I pull
back, my hand on his shoulder. "I'll come see you later."
"Katniss-"
But I get up and walk away. Truthfully, I don't want to move back in with Peeta. We keep
on pretending like we're normal people, who can go on and have a relationship. I don't think
we can. He may love me, and I may love him, but in the end, what are we but two broken
people? Two people so broken, being together won't leave us complete.
Of course, I don't dare tell him. Not yet. There will be time, after the trial, after things get
settled. I'll let him heal as much as possible first, so he'll be stronger when it comes.
I also have to speak to Johanna, who is surprisingly hostile when I bring it up in her room.
"I like Coin," Johanna says. "I'm not going to go ruining her."
"How can you like Coin?" I ask.
"She's not afraid to do what you have to to get things done."
"And if that oppresses everyone like the Capitol did?"
"Coin isn't the Capitol," Johanna says, shoving an IV into her arm for the pain medication to
drip in.
"Johanna, she's the one who set up the bombs," I say.
Johanna shrugs. "Did what it had to, didn't it?"
"We were winning," I say. "Mr. Smith confirmed it. Everyone knew. You know what that
bomb did? It killed Finnick, Johanna."
She freezes, her stare turning cold. I take this reaction and press it further.
"If she let things be, Finnick would be alive right now," I say. "Are you telling me that she
had to kill Finnick? That there was no way to spare him?"
"Stop it!" Johanna shrieks, shaking. "You don'tyou don't know"
"You're right that Coin's not afraid to do what she has to to get things done," I say. "But
now that's just maintaining power and if you don't take this opportunity to stop her, more
harm will come to people you love."
"There's no one left," Johanna says. "Joke's on you, Mockingjay."
"Then do it for the people who you did love."
"Snow killed them. Coin's not involved."
"Finnick?"
"I never loved Finnick," Johanna says. "He was just another victor."
"I don't think he was," I say. "Not to you."
"It's not worth it," Johanna says. "I'll be fine in this new country we have. I'm not going to
testify."
Johanna's more stubborn than even me, and I knew she wouldn't change her mind. I
shoved back the seat I was in and stormed out of her room, needing to take in deep
breaths. Johanna wasn't vital. She would just be another witness as to Benny's instructions
to kill me.
Gale, though, I needed. When I came up to him for the first time since I left for the Capitol,
I didn't know what to do. What could I say about Rory?
"Katniss," Gale says. "It's been a while."
"How are you?"
He moves his shoulders and head in way that conveyed his uncertainty of how to respond.
He shoves his hands in his pockets and doesn't meet my eye.
"Gale," I say. "Gale, I need to knowdid you show Coin your plans?"
"I know that they're mine," Gale says, his lips curling in disgust. "I know my trap killed
Rory, Katniss, I don't need reminding!"
"So you showed Coin?"
"I did, but she acted like she wasn't interested in it," Gale says. "Said she wouldn't have
time to set up such contraptions. But she used my plans. Every inch I'd planned out on the
placement on the bombs, even the gas to use."
Tears fill his eyes, and I find my arms wrapped around his waist. His own bomb had caused
the death of his younger brother. I couldn't imagine the guilt. But in a strange way, it felt
justified. Still not right, but justified.
When I tell Gale about our plan, he readily agrees to testify.
"Maybe it'll give me some chance to redeem Rory, even a little bit," Gale says. "Make her
pay."
The day comes when a trial finishes for a commanding officer of the Captiol army. He's been
locked away for life, since he didn't rank as high as others, many of whom were sentenced
to death. A panel of judges stretches across the front of the room, one of them including
President Coin. In fact, she sits at the head.
Peeta's come with me today. He's feeling well enough to walk around now. Luckily, he
doesn't say anything about moving back in together again.
"Who is on the list next to be prosecuted, Mr. Smith?" Coin asks.
"The people of Panem now accuse and send to trial President Alma Coin for high war
crimes," Mr. Smith announces.
Everyone in the room stirs but Mr. Smith, Peeta, myself, and Coin. Shocked whispers echo
and people shift to whisper to their neighbor and gasp. The judges ruffled their papers and
huff indignantly, but Coin's gaze is a cool and steady as ever.
"On what specific crimes?" Coin inquires.
"On knowingly sending an impregnated woman to war, ordering the attempted
assassination of Katniss Everdeen Mellark, and ordering the gas and bombings which killed
hundreds of civilians and soldiers with no due purpose."
I feel Coin's eyes move just over Mr. Smith's head and onto me. Just for a moment, her
cold stare locks with mine.
"Mr. Smith," a man calls from the judge's panel. "This is highly unusual! We are trying war
criminals here!"
"According to my evidence, President Coin is indeed guilty of war crimes," Mr. Smith says.
"There is no reason why we should excuse her and not President Snow."
This made many people titter, especially coming from a Capitol man.
"If we must," Coin says. "Then we will. It will be ridiculous and a waste of time, but if it
makes you comfortable, I have nothing to fear."
"You will, of course, need to step down from the judgment bench for this one, Coin," Mr.
Smith says. "And of course we will delay the trial until tomorrow so you have adequate time
to prepare."
"Is that all Mr. Smith?" Coin asks.
He nods. "It is."
"Then court is dismissed until tomorrow at ten o'clock in the morning." Coin slams her gavel
down and then stands, standing straight and walking out the door.
Wait until tomorrow, I think. You'll get it tomorrow.
A/N Hey guys I just wanted to remind you that I'm doing Fandoms Fight
Tsunamis, and my one-shot is going to be Peeta's POV of the first chapter of I Do.
You can find a banner, a teaser, and information on this one-shot that will help
benefit the victims of the tsunami in my profile. Head on over! :)
Her stupid hair. All I can do is stare at the straight evenness of it, the grey bob too perfect
for anyone who just survived a war. Her head turns to her legal representative, a man by
the name of Mr. Lee. I sit behind Mr. Smith, so I'm staring diagonally from Coin. Peeta is by
my side. He tried to start conversation once or twice, but I'd been so distracted that he
gave up.
Finally, the judges come in. Coin's place as head has been replaced by another woman with
white-blonde hair and severe lines around her mouth. There is an empty chair in the judge's
panel. No one has replaced Coin.
"Now the people of the New Republic of Panem versus President Alma Coin," the white-
blonde woman says. "We will begin with opening statements. Mr. Smith, you may begin."
Mr. Smith stands up and approaches the panel.
"War is an atrocious event. It blemishes human history, and yet, at times we find it is
unavoidable as was the case in our most recent rebellion," Mr. Smith says. "But in this time
of violence, there are still lines that should not be crossed. Alma Coin has crossed this line
several times over. Yes, she did lead our side to victory. But does that make her any less
accountable than Snow for her own war crimes? No. If justice is indeed blind, then Alma
Coin must feel that hand come down for all of the lives she took and attempts at
assassination. If we do not make a stand against these actions, humankind will crumble into
inhumanity. This is something we cannot let happen, and we cannot let our own leaders
pass by their actions."
Mr. Smith nods to the judges and then turns back to his table. As he does, Mr. Lee stands
and walks toward the judges. They both stare each other down as they cross paths. Mr. Lee
lifts his gaze back up to the judges.
"President Alma Coin is not at all guilty of these ridiculous crimes she is accused of," Mr. Lee
says. "And these people accusing her are either liars, misguided, or suffering mental illness
from the recent losses that the war has brought upon everyone and the weak are not able
to handle." My fists clench by that last line. None of this was in my head, I wasn't weak.
Red blazed in front of my eyes and Mr. Lee continued on about the virtues of our president
and degrading the sources of this.
"Thank you Mr. Smith and Mr. Lee," a judge with dark skin says. "Now the prosecutor will
call up his first witness."
Mr. Smith rises. "We call Dr. Simon Quinn to the stand."
I notice my doctor come up from the back and then enter into the witness stand. Dr. Quinn
takes an oath of honesty.
"Dr. Quinn," Mr. Smith says, "Can you point out to me Mrs. Katniss Everdeen Mellark?"
"Yes," Dr. Quinn says. He points directly at me. "Right there in the front row."
"And did you treat Mrs. Mellark after the final battle at the Capitol?"
"I did."
"Can you tell me, was Mrs. Mellark pregnant?"
Dr. Quinn nodded his head. "She was. As we began the treatment for the gas she was
subjected to under the final battle, she began to bleed profusely from her vagina. Eventually
a fetus roughly seven weeks old came out from Mrs. Mellark. She miscarried."
I swallow, but my throat is dry. Even my eyes have been cried dry, although they prickle
with the urge to. My heart still felt hollow about losing the baby.
"And the cause of the miscarriage?"
"That would be the gas that Mrs. Mellark inhaled during the final battle."
"When you told Mrs. Mellark about the miscarriage, did she know she was pregnant?"
Dr. Quinn nods. "Yes. She told me that she knew she had been carrying a baby. She was
distraught to discover she had lost it."
"Thank you Dr. Quinn," Mr. Smith says. "No further questions."
"Would the defense like to cross-examine?" A judge asks.
Mr. Lee replies, "No thank you, your honors."
Dr. Quinn left the stand. Mr. Smith then calls my name to take witness. Peeta squeezes my
hand and smiles at me, but I just scoot past him and then take the stand.
"I, Katniss Everdeen Mellark, do solemnly swear to report all of the truth under this court," I
say with my right hand raised. Then I take a seat.
"Mrs. Mellark, did you know that you were pregnant before going into battle?" Mr. Smith
asks.
"Yes."
"And who else knew?"
"My husband, Peeta, obviously," I say. "We told Coin about this as well, as we thought that
this would mean I wouldn't have to go to war. Coin disagreed and ordered we not tell
anyone. Boggs did overhear a conversation, but he passed on. No one else knew about the
pregnancy."
"So you said that Coin knew about your pregnancy, yet sent you to war anyway?"
I nod. "That's right."
"And when you did go to battle, what happened?" Mr. Smith puts his hands in his pocket.
"I had several attempts at my own life through one of our fellow soldiers, Benedict Geller," I
say. I'd learned Benny's full name for this trial. "He set off pods meant to kill me and he
attacked me. Boggs died defending me when Geller attacked."
"And why would Geller do that?"
I shake my head. "I asked Dr. Lawler, but he said Geller had no mental condition. I believe
he was sent there by Coin to assure of my death."
"And why do you believe that?"
"It's no secret that Coin and I don't agree on much," I say. "Boggs warned me earlier. He
told me that since I did not support Coin, I could hurt her chances of becoming the new
president of Panem. As a result, she would want me dead before I got the chance to speak
out against her and ruin her chances of becoming president. This is why she would send me
to war pregnant and hire Geller to assassinate me."
Mr. Smith says, "Thank you Mrs. Mellark. That is all."
The judge then calls for the defense to cross-examine. Mr. Lee stands now and comes up to
me. His eyes are black and cold, and he looks into me before addressing me. I try to settle
the anger inside of me that comes just by looking at him.
"Mrs. Mellark, the reasons you give for President Coin sending in Geller to assassinate you
are mere assumptions. Do you have any solid proof of this?"
I tighten my lips before saying, "No."
"No letters?"
"No."
"A confession?"
"No."
"Geller never admitted to it?"
I look to my lap, my cheeks flushing. "No."
Mr. Lee smirks at me and then asks, "Are you sure that you told Coin about your
pregnancy?"
"Yes," I spit at him.
"Are you aware of the resources President Coin put into maternal and prenatal care in
District 13? Why would she send you to war pregnant with that reputation and strong desire
to protect pregnant mothers?"
"Because she wanted me dead."
Mr. Lee shakes his head. "You have no proof she wanted you dead."
"I did tell her," I say. "Whatever reason she decided to send me in, to kill me as I believe,
or to have me lead the rebels in the final battle as the Mockingjay for morale support as she
told me, she still did send me in."
"Only according to you," Mr. Lee says. "And you do have a notorious reputation for
dishonesty."
"Objection!" Mr. Smith pounds on his table. "Attacking the witness!"
"Denied," The white-blonde judge answers. She looks to Mr. Lee. "Please continue."
"Did you or did you not lead Panem to believe you were in love with your husband, Peeta
Mellark?"
"I do love him," I whisper, glaring at Mr. Lee.
"But did you?"
"This is completely irrelevant," I say, my voice becoming more and more flat in anger. "That
was for the Hunger Games, to keep us alive, and afterwards to keep Snow from killing us
and our families. I have no reason to be dishonest now. Do you have a letter or a confession
of my dishonesty, Mr. Lee?"
Mr. Lee stared at me with narrowing eyes before saying, "We do have confessions of those
who agree you did not believe Coin a very fit authority."
"And I can show you people who knows Coin hates me," I say. "But according to you, that
isn't good enough a reason for her to want to assassinate me. Well, then your confessions
mean nothing as to why I would be lying about Coin knowing I was pregnant."
"All the same, you suffered from mental illness after your coming to District 13 and after the
final battle," Mr. Lee says. "Your judgment is clearly impaired."
"Get a doctor in here and he will disagree," I lean forward to tell Mr. Lee, my heart
pounding with anger, my cheeks red and burning.
"We shall see," Mr. Lee says. He inclines his head to the judges. "That is all your honors."
I stand and sit back down to Peeta, fuming over Mr. Lee and his ridiculous questions. I
remain hard against Peeta's arm around me. I barely even notice when Peeta takes the
stand as well. Mr. Smith has him confirm everything that I said: Coin knew of my pregnancy
and Benny tried to kill me. Mr. Lee struts over to Peeta and puts his arm across the bar
Peeta sits behind.
"Do you have any proof of Geller's supposed assassination, or are you as paranoid as your
wife?"
Paranoid. I bite down on my teeth to keep from shouting out.
"No," Peeta says. "I don't. But the whole situation felt wrong. It felt like Coin had set it up.
No one else would be trying to kill Katniss."
"As I understand, you underwent a torture that left you hijacked and your memories
became morphed and incorrect," Mr. Lee says. "And then you developed another mental
breakdown where you were overly-paranoid for your wife's safety. Couldn't this just be from
that issue?"
"No," Peeta says. "I've made progress. I'm practically normal again."
"I'm sure you are," Mr. Lee pretends to sympathize with him, his tone and face sad. "But
this isn't something you can help."
"I can sort out those feelings and memories though," Peeta says. "After the moment, I can
assess if they were real or not. This was real. Coin knew Katniss was pregnant and she sent
an assassin to kill her!"
"If that is what you believe in your unstable mind," Mr. Lee says, shaking his head, as if
pitying Peeta.
Peeta's eyes narrows and he says, "I'm not so far gone I made up the exact same event as
Katniss did. We told Coin Katniss was pregnant. And Katniss and I weren't the only ones to
believe Coin meant to kill her. Boggs knew, too, only he can't witness because the man Coin
sent to kill Katniss ended up killing him."
Mr. Lee shakes his head at Peeta, a commiserating expression on his face.
"That is all your honors."
Mr. Lee sits, and one of the judges announces the break of the court for this day. My
stomach hardens as Coin catches my eye. She made Peeta and I look like loons, and that
could cause the downfall of our case. And if she got off, Peeta, Mr. Smith, Gale, and I, we'd
all pay the consequences.
"Katniss," Peeta takes hold of my elbow. "Do you want to go get lunch together?"
I look back over to him, the hopeful expression on his face.
"I want a nap," I say. "I'm tired."
"I'll go with you then," Peeta says.
"No." I wiggle out of his grip. "I just need to be alone."
I walk away from him, my heart breaking as I hold my stomach in, but feeling nothing
there.

The next day, Mr. Smith calls Gale up to the stand.
"Mr. Hawthorne, can you describe to me the trap which you gave to President Coin during
the war?" Mr. Smith asks.
"I think it'd be best if we had the original design I drew," Gale says, and a court assistant
brings forward the same paper I'd seen him drawing on that day when we'd argued. "You
see, the City Circle in the Capitol has sewers lining all around. We could enter their sewage
system and there plant the bombs. To minimize the damage, as the bombs used were
incredibly powerful, we only put them every other. And in the middle, we could plant gas
that would drive people in the edges and into the bombs. I meant for this to be used should
we drive the Capitol's soldiers to the middle. I didn't expect it to be used against our own
people or against the Captiol's civilians."
Mr. Smith ignores this last part. "And you showed Coin your plan?"
"Yes."
"What did she say?"
Gale sighs. "She said she wasn't interested. But then the next day, I couldn't find my plans
for it. A couple days later, I found my plans right were I'd left them, but where they hadn't
been for the past few days."
Mr. Smith nods to the court assistant, who brings out another diagram which looks very
similar to Gale's.
"Can you tell me what this is?" Mr. Smith asks him.
"It's the design of the trap that ended the final battle," Gale says.
"Do you see any patterns in it similar to yours?"
Gale swallows, looking down at his hands and then back up. And I see in there something I
haven't ever seen: regret. "It's exactly the same. Down to the amount of gas to use and the
design of the bombs."
Mr. Smith says, "Thank you, Mr. Hawthorne."
He takes his seat and Mr. Lee goes up to Gale, his expression calculating. Gale he can't pin
for being insane like he can for me and Peeta. I try to hide a smirk. There's no way he can
get around this.
"Mr. Hawthorne, did anyone dear to you die in this explosion?"
"My little brother, Rory."
"And you want to feel his death vindicated, don't you?" Mr. Lee asks. I roll my eyes. This
idiot was really grasping at straws now.
"Yes," Gale admits. "And don't try to screw this like you did with Katniss and Peeta. Snow's
already been sentenced to death. He didn't do this, Coin did. I'm telling the truth not just
for Rory, but for Panem. Because Panem doesn't need a leader like Coin." He looks over at
me. "I realize that now."
Mr. Lee stands there for a minute, staring at Gale. He ends up just nodding at sitting down.
I smile at Gale, who gives me the slightest smile back.
Mr. Smith calls up a Julius Becket to the stand. I cock my head to the side. I don't
remember deciding to use him.
"Mr. Becket, please tell the court your job."
"I specialize in bombs and bomb wiring in particular," Becket says.
"Can you tell me your last job in the war?"
"I was to wire bombs under the sewage entrances, directly under the City Circle in the
Capitol," Becket says. "I was flown out a day earlier than the rest of the company. My squad
had to fight through several horrible monsters I don't care to describe." Becket shuddered.
"In the end, it was only me and two others who got through and could wire it up. We did.
Those were the bombs that ended the final battle."
"And who did you get those orders from?"
Becket points to Coin. "Her. President Alma Coin."
Mr. Smith smiles. "Thank you, Mr. Becket."
Mr. Lee passes for a cross-examination.
The next series of witnesses are soldiers, mostly commanding officers. Mr. Smith questions
the state of the war and whether or not the bombs and gas was even necessary. They all
confirm that it wasn't. The rebels were far advanced into the City Circle, almost to Snow's
front door, and without the bombs, they still would have succeeded. All testify that less lives
would have been lost without the bombs. One commanding officer says no leader in their
right mind would have made those bombs go off under the given conditions. Even in the
worst, it would have been a drastic move.
With the prosecution finished with their witnesses, the trial for the day is done. Gale comes
up to Peeta and I, and I hug him.
"You were perfect," I say, pulling away to look at him. "Really, I don't know how they can't
see her guilty now."
"Of course," Gale says. "I had to do it for Rory."
I notice Peeta leaning away from the conversation and looking hurt. Maybe because I'd just
shown Gale more affection than I have Peeta in a week. I smile at Gale as he leaves and I
want to say something to Peeta. To try and explain to him how the miscarriage made me
feel. That it wasn't his fault, it was just the way my life had shaped me. But my words fail
me yet again.

The defense brings in Dr. Lawler and Dr. Quinn up to the stand, trying to get them to say
how Peeta and I both are too crazy to take seriously on the stand. They did allow for some
reason to doubt, but that overall, we weren't delusional. Our behavior was erratic and
unstable, but making up stories wouldn't be in our behavior.
Last of all, Coin stands and testifies for herself.
"I did not order that trap," Coin says. "It was despicable and low, to kill the civilians of the
Capitol, as well as my own people. I would never do anything like that. This has all been a
set-up to overthrow me by a few people. I also did not know of Katniss Mellark's pregnancy,
or else I assure you she would have never gone into battle. I don't know what else I can
say."
Then, closing statements were made. Mr. Smith spoke about the proof and the virtues of his
witnesses. Mr. Lee tried to tear us down and build up Coin as some type of goddess.
We have to wait for the judges to decide the case. I was nervous the whole time, wondering
if Alma Coin would send in more assassins before she was even convicted, just for putting a
streak on her reputation. I can hardly even eat, and take to wandering by myself again.
Finally, news comes that a verdict is in.
This time, I take Peeta's hand and hold it tightly as everyone fills the courtroom. They have
to start turning people away because there's not enough room for all of those wondering if
Coin will be convicted or not.
"President Alma Coin, if you would stand," the white-blonde judge says. Coin rises, her chin
lifted high and her eyes as cold as ever. The judge continues, "President Alma Coin, under
the court of the New Republic of Panem, we hereby find you not guilty of ordering the
attempted assassination of Katniss Everdeen Mellark." My stomach protests, hurling around
inside of me with disgust. Coin's eyes become more smug. The judge continues, "Of the
charges of sending the pregnant Katniss Everdeen Mellark to war and ordering the bombs
which killed hundreds of innocents unnecessarily, the court finds you guilty."
I cover my hand to my mouth to hold in a sob of relief. Coin returns to be the cold woman
as she was before, all arrogance wiped off of her expression. She even looks weak. I can't
help the smile of victory spreading across my face and Peeta leans in and kisses my head. I
turn to him, and let him kiss me on the lips. Knowing the woman that took our child away is
guilty for what she did has taken some of the grief off of me, just a bit. At least the
vindication is over.
"For these crimes," the judge continues after the explosion of shock from the audience, "the
sentence is death."
I don't even feel guilty as I watch Coin's face drain of every last bit of color. But even now, I
still can't find the joy I'd hoped would accompany the end of the war. Just emptiness.
A/N Ha! I bet you weren't expecting an update so fast! Well, here's the last
chapter of I Do. But don't be sad yet, because I still have an epilogue up my
sleeve. And if you donate or contribute to Fandoms Fight Tsunamis, then you'll get
to read the first chapter of I Do through Peeta's POV which will stretch out your I
Do experience even longer. It's a win for you and a win for the people whose lives
have been affected by the tsunami. OK, enjoy now! :)
Coin is executed in private. The conviction of the winning rebel's leader never added to the
morale of a newly torn country, which is why it didn't make a show. Snow and his high-
ranking officials, however, are shot in the head in front of everyone. I stare down at the
crowd from my window, distanced from everyone as they cheer. I draw my arms into my
chest, my chin resting on my clasped hands. The gunshots ring hollow in my chest. I want
to feel victory. I want to be happy.
I can't.
I'm going back to District 12 as early as I can manage it. TheyPlutarch, Cressida, the
hurriedly elected President Paylor, and every political being in-betweenare begging and
pleading with me to stay, even delaying my hovercraft home. I had to stay for the
inauguration, they told me, I was the Mockingjay, I had to give one last show.
"No," I told each and every one. I'd had enough of the Capitol. I know District 12 won't be
in much better condition, but it's home. I know the woods there. And even with the
buildings disintegrated, I could walk the same path I did in the past. Anywhere else, and I'd
be even more lost than I am.
Not everyone felt the same as I did when I rejected the various positions and incentives to
stay and continue playing their games. Gale decided to take a position in District 2,
overseeing the citizens who were less than enthusiastic about the trade of power. He would
meet with President Paylor and go to the Capitol often. He would probably be featured on
TV, because even with the end of the war, the propos weren't over. Luckily, I had slid away
from those, at least the formal ones.
With the cheers dying down and the bodies being collected, I move away from the window
and leave my room to go search for Prim and my mother, to see how their plans for getting
back to District 12 were turning out. I could sneak onto their hovercraft if no one else would
let me go. I head down to their room and knock before peeping the door open. Prim stands
over a suitcase, folding her clothes and setting them in.
"What are you doing?" I ask her. "Did you find a hovercraft to take us to District 12?"
Prim glances up at me and then away again. She fiddles with her medic uniform. Her eyes
are somber as she finally lifts her head up again.
"I'm not going back to District 12, Katniss," Prim says. "Mother and I received offers from
the new officials in District 4 to be part of the medical staff in a hospital they're building.
While it's being built, we'll be trained more. And then once it is completed, we'll both have
jobs."
"Why didn't you tell me?" I ask.
Prim shrugs. "You were so busy with the trial."
"Still," I say, my heart twisting in my chest. "You could have told me. You'll be so far away."
The news that she would be so distanced from me made me hold my stomach in. Of course,
she would be receiving the finest training in District 4. She could even be a doctor one day.
But I didn't want her to go. I wouldn't see her. I wouldn't protect her. Then, I realize I'm as
helpless as she. What could I protect her from? The war is done. Her heart is broken. I'm
fractured, too.
"I just can't go back to District 12, Katniss," Prim holds back her tears. "Rory is everywhere
there. I can't go back to the ashes. If I'm going to rebuild I need it to be somewhere I've
never been before. That way, I'll only remember making it grow. I won't have the memories
there to haunt me."
I can't argue with her. Instead, I bring her in to an embrace. She rests her head on my
shoulders, and we grip each other, already dreading the distance. Then, Prim pulls back and
holds my hands in hers.
"You could come with us," Prim invites. "You and Peeta, if you want."
I sigh. "And do what? Fish?"
"I'm sure there's something you can do."
I shake my head. "I need to find myself back in District 12. I think that's my only way, like
leaving it is yours."
Prim squeezes my hand and tries to smile. It's the closest I've seen her get in a long time. I
try, too. We're both so pitiful we begin laughing at ourselves, which makes us both draw
tears again and hug and sob on each other.
Our weeping becomes drowned out by greater wails. Prim and I wipe our eyes and turn to
see our mother leading Annie into the room. She falls on the bed, howling as my mother
strokes her dark hair and tries to shush her. More aching fills my heart with Annie's
screams. Finnick.
"What is it?" Prim asks, sitting on the bed by Annie's feet.
My mother is the one who answers, for Annie is too far into her grief. "Annie found out
todayshe's pregnant."
My first reaction is jealousy. Not that I want to be pregnant now. But the loss of my baby
hadn't faded yet, and Annie's pregnancy reminded me of what I'd never get back and the
life that had been taken. Then, one of Annie's cries pierces louder than the ones before, and
guilt replaces the jealousy.
Annie lost Finnick.
She has a baby, but its father is gone. This baby would always remind her of whom she lost,
how she lost him, how much she loved him. Watching my mother and Prim gather tissues
and rub Annie soothingly, trying to comfort her with words that mean nothing because he's
still dead, and the guilt increases.
I'd barely even seen Peeta since the trial a week ago. Annie's here, mourning over Finnick,
and I got to keep Peeta and I'm shunning him. It's not without reason, I try to tell myself.
Loving people hurts when the world is so dangerous. When a life so fragile can be taken so
quickly, when a mind can be altered, and feelings switched in an instant. But still, the truth
of what I am resonates from my core.
I'm a coward.
I know I love Peeta. I've known it since the day Gale proposed what could happen when this
day came and the Capitol abolished. Fighting to keep him and seeing the results of war
were two separate things. I didn't want to feel the worry again. I didn't want to feel this
emptiness and depression from the miscarriage that would become amplified even more at
his loss.
I didn't want to be Annie.
I sit down at the foot of the bed, curling into myself and closing my eyes, listening to
Annie's cries muffled down to sniffles and eventually silence. I search inside of me, trying to
find a bit of happiness. A memory, an emotion. I find the first in Prim, remembering my
little sister. That shatters when our good-bye replays in my head. I continue digging
through myself, until I know the only other thing that creaks open the door for the first rays
of light.
Peeta could ruin me completely.
But because of it, he's the only one who could give me hope again.
When Annie has fallen asleep and my mother ushers me out of the room, I decide to look
for Peeta. We could force them to give us a hovercraft to take us to District 12. I'm looking
forward to going back now. Peeta and I can rebuild there, find ourselves and each other
again. I don't know where everything will go, but I know that it'll go with Peeta, and that
comforts me.
"Beetee!" I call out when I see him. He stops and turns to me. "Beetee, have you seen
Peeta?"
"He was just looking for you," Beetee says. "I'd check his room again, he said he had to
finish packing."
I must have missed him the first time I went to his room. I thank Beetee and then go into
the room Peeta's staying in. He has his suitcase zipped up and his room straightened out
with the sheets folded and the room swept of any extra clutter.
"What's this?" I ask. If there was a hovercraft ready to take us, he should have told me.
Peeta sighs and moves his suitcase from the bed onto the ground by his feet. "I'm going to
District 7 today. I tried to find you to let you know.
"District 7?" I ask. I narrow my eyes at him. "Why would we go there?"
"Not us," Peeta says. "Just me. Johanna told me their baker died in the war. They need a
new one, and I need a new place to go to."
Why didn't Peeta want to go back to District 12? For the same reasons Prim couldn't? But
why wouldn't he even discuss it with me? But then my mind backtracks to his earlier
comment. Not us.
"What do you mean, 'not us'?" I ask him.
"Look, Katniss. Everything is over now."
I pause. "Meaning?"
"The Games. The act. The war." Peeta shrugs. "Us."
"Peeta-"
He shakes his head. "No, Katniss. It's really over now. No one will kill us or your family or
friends. We don't have to pretend. Not even to ourselves. Of course, it seems you're a step
ahead there."
My mind is racing to try and see how he got to this point when Peeta pulls out a large stack
of papers from a messenger bag. No, not this again.
"I have the public statement right here," Peeta says, handing it to me. "I've explained
everything. The Games and the threats. Our forced marriage. The announcement of our
divorce. You can look over it if you want, add a statement for yourself. I don't think that
you'll object to anything I've written, though. I kept it as neutral and as private as possible.
Abraham Smith is taking care of the divorce papers, but everything is all set to go. If you
could just give the final statement you want to him when you're done looking through it,
he'll make sure everyone gets it. I just need to go now."
He picks up his suitcase and makes for the door, but I stop him, putting my hands to his
chest and blocking his way. He moves back, his head down and staring at the ground. I toss
the papers aside so they scatter across the red carpet, sliding across each other.
"Like hell you are," I say, grabbing his suitcase and throwing it on top of the papers. Peeta
wasn't divorcing me. Not until I said my part.
Peeta stands there, his shoulders slumped, his eyes tired and sad. Still a young man, but
with the expression of someone three times his age. He whispers, "Please, Katniss. I'm
done."
"So am I," I say. "But not with us."
"I wish I could believe you," Peeta says. "But every time there's an obstacle, you hide. I
can't ever tell if you really love me or if it was all a defense mechanism you acquired to get
through this. With how you've been these past few weeks, though, I know now. You've
always done what you had to for survival."
"Which is why I need you to come back to District 12 with me," I say.
Peeta presses the heels of his hands into his eyes, shaking his head. "No, stop it, Katniss.
Stop."
"Stop what?" I ask.
"This back and forth, I can't take it anymore!" He lowers his hands and his eyes are blazing,
his posture stiffened.
"I'm sorry," I whisper. I don't know how I can argue with him. He's right. I go back and
forth far too often. Survival is my instinct and being in love with that mode made everything
difficult, for me and Peeta, but more so for him. Maybe it would be best if I just let him
decide, to finally let him have the chance at happiness, instead of him always giving it to
me.
"I have to go now," Peeta picks up his suitcase and moves around me. This time, I let him
go, holding back my tears as he does. I hear him open the door, and then close it, the click
of it ending my life with Peeta for good.
I wipe my eyes before the tears have any time to escape. I look at the papers shuffled on
the floor and bend down to begin picking them up. They seem to have been kept in about
the same order, so I have them organized quickly. Then, I begin reading the public
announcement of our divorce. Peeta explains everything. Of our marriage, the time spent
making our relationship real, of being in love, he only says, The past year being married to
Katniss has been something I will always treasure, but continuing something that was
forced is unhealthy for both of us, which is why we announce our divorce.
He goes on to say that this is no one's fault, neither of us are to blame, it's just the way it
has to be. This is the end of the announcement. The door that gave me a peek of the
sunshine snaps shut, and I only have darkness to comfort me.
I clutch the papers to my chest and shift on my heels to stand up when I notice a paper that
had fallen under the desk and I hadn't gotten. I scoot it out by the corner until I can
properly grab it, but soon realize that it's written in Peeta's handwriting, not typed like the
rest of the document. I recognize the top sentence as one from the announcement,
explaining that Snow had threatened our lives and our loved ones' lives if we did not comply
with the marriage. But after this, the rest of it was completely different from the rest of the
announcement.
And so now, with this threat taken away and our freedom restored, Katniss and I announce
our divorce. For myself, I do not regret anything from this past year of marriage to Katniss.
We've spent much of it in terror and tears, but I've learned more with her than anyplace
else. I've learned more about life, survival, and love than I ever knew before. Although this
is the end of our marriage, this isn't the end of my love for her.
After this, Peeta had slashed the pen across the page, probably in frustration, and also the
point where he started fresh again.
This isn't the end of my love for her.
I drop the rest of the papers but this one and swing open the door, dashing down the hall,
the stairs, past the guards at the door that try and stop me and go to the launch pad of the
hovercrafts. Peeta stands there waiting by Johanna and a few other people.
"Peeta!" I cry, running toward him.
He looks over at me, and the hurt returns to his eyes. "Katniss, I thought we talked this
through."
"We're not done," I say, gasping for breath. "Tell me you don't love me anymore."
Peeta opens his mouth, but ends up turning his gaze away from me and not speaking.
"Then tell me you don't want to be married to me."
His eyes stay trained at a point beyond my head.
"It's not the point Katniss," his voice is strained.
"Then what is?" I ask. "Is it me? Because of how stupid I act sometimes? Because I know I
do that, how stupid it is of me to push you away. Only because of how much I actually love
you though. Because sometimes I'm scared of how much I do love you. Of how much it
hurts if you weren't there."
"I can't understand that Katniss," Peeta says.
I sputter out a laugh. "Neither do I."
Peeta looks between the hovercraft to District 7 that's landed and me.
"I found your letter," I say. "The one you wrote but didn't use for the announcement. I feel
that way, too, Peeta. But I don't want our marriage to be done. Not ever."
Peeta laughs hollowly. "It already is. Abraham Smith has the divorce ready and filed. It is
done."
I reach out and grab Peeta's hand. His eyebrows fold together over his blue eyes. I swallow,
fireworks going off in my stomach from nerves.
"Peeta Mellark, will you marry me?" I ask him. "No Capitol this time. No Snow. Only us and
our decision."
He keeps his gaze constant now, only looking at me. Then, after the longest pause I've
experienced, he says, "Yes."
Epilogue
Today I am marrying Peeta Mellark.
My mother braids my hair as Prim retrieves my dress. It is not new, or even white. It's the
orange dress I wore in District 11 for the Victory Tour. I picked it because of the color that
Peeta favors, and the simple style of it. I want my wedding to be nice, but I don't want it to
be like the last one was. Because this, right now, is the start of our real life together.
The past four months Peeta and I have been back in District 12. Our homes in the Victor's
Village were untouched by the bombs, so we settled back in there. We help rebuild the
town, put in new plants, tear away the debris. There is no more fence anymore, nothing to
keep us back. But for the first time in my life, there is nothing in the woods District 12
couldn't offer me as well.
When my mother finishes my hair, I unbutton my shirt, slip out of my pants, and shimmy
the dress up onto me. Prim zips me up, her expression still somber from the past few
months. I catch her eye in the mirror, and she smiles a little at me. Her hand rests on my
shoulder, squeezing it. I place my hand over it.
"You look beautiful Katniss," Prim tells me. "More than you did at the Capitol for your first
wedding."
"Only because this time, it's what I want," I say.
"I am happy for you," Prim says. And finally, I get a genuine smile out of her.
"Thank you," I whisper.
My mother peeks her head out the door and then turns back to us. "Everyone is here. Come
on."
My mother and Prim hurry off to their seats. Our living room is filled with our closest friends
and family: obviously my mother and Prim, Haymitch, the surviving Hawthornes (including
a pretty auburn-haired girl Gale brought with him from District 2), Annie with her swelling
belly, Beetee, Johanna, Effie, Greasy Sae, Peeta's friend Delly Cartwright, my former prep
team (who did not take it well when I reserved my beautification to my mother), as well as
people we've gotten to know on the reconstruction teamThom and his wife Lacey, Paul,
and Simmon.
I smile as I come down the stairs, clutching the small bouquet of yellow daisies. Peeta waits
at the fireplace, his face awed as he sees me. A smile plays at his lips until it's reached his
entire face, radiating. It is strange that, after all we went through, with what we're still
facing, the nightmares and struggle to find our place in this new world, that we can even be
happy right now. But that's how Peeta makes me feel. Like having him beside me will be
enough for the rest of it.
I take his hand in mine when I get to him. I put my flowers down on the mantle of the
fireplace. Peeta gazes at me, as if he didn't get enough when I walked to him. I raise my
eyebrows at him, and then he shakes out of it, facing our small audience.
"We went to sign our marriage license this morning," Peeta tells them. "So we're technically
married, but everyone from District 12 knows you aren't really married until you have a
toasting."
Peeta turns back to me and takes the loaf of bread he had baked just for right now. I tear
off a piece, and so does he. We kneel by the fire. Peeta toasts his piece first.
"Katniss, I promise that no matter what comes, we'll get through it together. Nothing will
take us apart anymore, I promise. And I will always love you," Peeta says simply, then
gives me the bread to eat.
As I toast my piece of bread, I frantically try to come up with something to say. I've been
wondering about it for a week now, but every time I tried to write something down, I failed.
When I look back up at Peeta, my bread as crisp as it can get, he gives me a small smile.
"I'm sorry," I choke. He furrows his eyebrows. I continue, "I'm sorry that sometimes I've
forgotten that it's only in us, together, that life will matter. I'm sorry that I was scared
before. I promise not to be scared, or to ever forget again."
Peeta takes the bread in his mouth and swallows. Then we lean in and kiss, the fire between
the two of us more powerful than the one that toasted our bread. When we pull away,
everyone has risen, clapping and advancing on us for congratulations.
A few pictures are snapped as some of the men put away the chairs to make room for
dancing. Thom picks up his fiddle and starts playing. Everyone joins in, even those from the
Capitol who don't know how the districts dance. We clap our hands and stomp our feet. We
join hands and laugh and have more fun than we've had in a long, long time.
I speak with Gale and his new girl, Marb. She had been one of our District 2 spies during
the rebellion, relying important information to District 13 and the rest of the rebels. Yet
despite her history, she is a very calming presence with a level head but a caring heart,
which I think will be good for Gale. And, by how little we've kept in contact, I suppose he
realizes that she's good for him, too.
I spend a time sitting down with Annie, who can't stay on her feet long with a five-month
pregnant stomach to account for. I ask her how she is, and she tells me she's getting
through.
"Some days are easier than others," Annie says, giving a shaky smile. "But whenever things
get hard, I just remember my little Finn." She places a hand over her belly.
"It's a boy?" I ask.
She nods. "Of course, I'm naming him after his father, butthe nickname will make things
easier."
"You'll have to send me a picture of him," I say. "Peeta and I began a book. We're writing
about everyone we ever knew, about what happened. We could add little Finn in it, by you
and Finnick."
Annie nods. "We'd like that."
Most of my other guests are far more cheerful than Annie, but then again none of the rest
of them are pregnant with the child of their newly slaughtered husband. Greasy Sae
manages with the refreshments, and Peeta presents his wedding cake for the two of us.
After we've all stuffed ourselves, people begin to trickle away, leaving their last kisses and
blessings on us.
"Katniss!" Venia waves me over. I leave Peeta saying good-bye to Beetee and join my
former prep team.
"We left a special present for you in your bathroom," Flavius says, winking at me.
Even though I am not the virgin bride I was in my last wedding, I blush as if I were. It's
true, Peeta and I had decided to wait until we were remarried so this wedding night would
be even more special, but even still, it's not as if I had forgottenit wasn't like I should be
feeling these nerves
I return to my normal color when Peeta joins me in saying goodbye to Venia, Flavius, and
Octavia. They smirk and wink at me some more, then finally leave.
The Hawthornes and my family help in the clean-up. Peeta and I try to get them to hurry
the process, but there's no way that my mother will stop chatting with Hazelle, or Posy
won't drag the trash outside slowly, tugging with all of her small might.
"Thank you so much for your help," Peeta says, waving them out as they finally begin to
leave. Gale smirks, his arm around Marb's waist.
"Enjoy the rest of your night," Gale calls back, which makes me blush again.
Peeta shuts the door, then turns to me with a grin. He holds out his hand. "Shall we?"
I take his hand in mine and we climb up the stairs, then enter our bedroom. Peeta leans in
to kiss me, but right when he's a breath away, I say, "I need to go to the bathroom."
Peeta groans.
"I promise I won't take as long as I did our first time," I tell him. "You're getting a much
better wedding night than you did before."
"Fine," Peeta says. "I'm trusting you with this."
I give him a brief kiss before I go into the bathroom. There on the counter is a white box
with a red ribbon wrapped around it. I remove the ribbon and then the lid, push back tissue
paper, until it confronts me. It's lacey and small, but this time it's white. And it no longer
makes me fall into a crumple on the ground. I remove my dress and slip into the lingerie. I
feel strange in it, but not scared.
"Katniss, I think you're breaking your promise," Peeta calls in after me.
With my cheeks still red, I open the door. "No I'm not."
Peeta's mouth drops open, his eyes growing wide. I smirk at him, becoming more confidant
with his reaction, then turn around so he can see all of me. He rises from the bed and
comes over to me. He kisses me deeply, then whispers, "And why don't I get one?"
I laugh and kiss him back in return. The rest comes back naturally. Peeta and I become
husband and wife in every single way, holding nothing back in our new, final, real marriage.
In Peeta's arms, nestles in his warmth, he says, "You really love me, don't you?"
I kiss him and then reply, "I do."
A/N Whew. All done! Thank you so much for reading and sticking through with
this fic when many dropped out at a certain point. And thank you SO SO much for
those who reviewed! I'm speechless at how much feedback I've received. I have a
playlist in my profile for I Do if you want to check it out and listen. And of course
since this is my last time to remind you, donate to Fandoms Fight Tsunamis and
read the first chapter through Peeta's POV. And now this is complete.