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Chapter Text

The three figures moved as silently as ghosts, even though they were in broad daylight. Katniss was busy getting her sister ready, watching out of the corner of her eye, in the mirror, how Prim played with the buttons of her shirt nervously. On the other side of their humble home, her father's cane clanged, breaking the silence. The tension was palpable in the air, even if Katniss wanted to avoid showing it. When she finished, she tucked the shirt into Prim's skirt and squeezed her shoulders to cheer her up, giving her a smile that hid her actual fear. Prim's name would be among the possible tributes for the Hunger Games for the first time, while Katniss was getting closer to escaping, as close as the brush of a hand in search of another that could lift her up.

"My girls," she suddenly heard from the doorway. "You look beautiful."

Prim smiled back at her father, but Katniss recognised the same fear behind his voice and the way he clung to his cane, anxiously. They were already prepared to go to the Reaping with their best clothes: Prim in an outfit that had belonged to Katniss, and her in her late mother's old dress that still was surprisingly soft considering the years that had passed since she had died. As her sister had gone ahead to step out of the house, she took the opportunity to extend her arm to her father and help him down the few front steps, even though he didn't really need it.

"She'll be fine," she murmured, as if she could convince herself that way.

One year. Just one more year and Katniss would be able to forget about the sleepless nights before the Reaping, the days of hunger and the tesserae that made her an easier target. However, Prim's nightmare had just begun, which would make it hers too even after she turned eighteen.

"Of course," her father agreed.

Katniss gave him a sideways look, before approaching her sister. His voice didn't show it, nor did his actions, but her father seemed tired. Just as the years had made Prim grow up, they had also passed for her father, painful as it was, especially after the accident in the mines. The scar on his cheek was sunken in and a grayish hue was beginning to dot his hair, the same shade as his gaze. Katniss had his eyes, his skin the colour of the olive, unlike her sister, who had inherited her mother's angelic appearance. Katniss remembered how different she had been, compared to the people of the Seam. She had to have loved her father very much to leave behind her family's apothecary and a better life, to start a family that, unfortunately, had been destroyed before it was supposed to. Katniss observed the gold in her sister's braided hair. She wished that afternoon would pass quickly. She wished she could keep her innocence for another year and not be like every other malnourished girl from the Seam, where everyone was so scarred by poverty that they seemed older, more defeated, children and adults alike.

Around them, other families walked the same path. They had to cross the entire town to reach the square. Katniss preferred watching the light filter through the trees, the birds singing, taking a dip in the lake when she could go to the meadow and it wasn't to hunt. The cement suffocated her and she would have liked the buildings if there were any traces from the unknown Panem left, the Panem from before the cruel Games that forced them to sacrifice dozens of innocent children every year. Almost no one remembered what the world was like before the despair of a majority for the enjoyment of a few.

"Then we'll celebrate with a nice dinner," she commented, whispering to Prim as she took her hand. "We have your goat cheese. Gale and I traded today's fish for real bread and I didn't sell all the strawberries to Madge."

"Will we have dessert?" Prim asked, her eyes wide with excitement.

Katniss felt her father smile slightly at them. Although hunting was illegal, the Peacekeepers were among her clients, as so was the mayor, since most of the products were in short supply. On days like this, they turned a blind eye even more.

Her father suddenly put his arms around them and in a low voice added:

"And then we can go out and see the stars."

They wouldn't go beyond the fence, because Prim was scared of it, but the surroundings of their house would do.

"Thanks, Dad," Prim said, placing a quick kiss on his cheek.

Already in the square, the greetings were scarce beyond a few light head movements. The world trembled with anticipation, as did those present. When the place was filled to its capacity and the act began, Katniss had no choice but to focus on the stage they had set up in front of the Justice Building. In it were Mayor Undersee, Madge's father, and the only two winners in the entire history of District 12: Haymitch Abernathy and Michael Elwood. The latter, despite being only a bit older than Haymitch, was gaunt and pale. It had been of little use to become a winner if cancer continued to devour him little by little. Beside him, Haymitch sat down unsteadily. Everyone knew he was drunk day in day out, so it was no surprise.

"Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favour!"

Effie Trinket's voice made her clench her mouth in disgust. Everything about her was strident: her voice, her hair, the garish color of her dress. She had such a contrast with the rest of those present she was even ridiculous.

"Ladies first."

Katniss sucked in a breath and gritted her teeth as the woman theatrically pulled out the chosen name, then smoothed the paper.

"Primrose Everdeen," she read, with a smile.

The name floated through the air until it hit Katniss with an invisible force that took her breath away. She didn't notice Prim move or her father trying to suppress a shriek, with no success. It was as if she had been awakened from a trance, or suddenly taken from one bad dream to another even worse. It was the most devastating scenario. It was impossible. Prim only had one chance and it had become true.

Her mind was keeping pace with the racing beat of her heart. However, being aware of the devastating silence that gripped her, the puzzled expression of her sister when she dared to look down... then she had nothing to ponder. She couldn't leave her. She wasn't going to leave her. Nausea rose in her throat, but she swallowed. She would die if she had to, she would die for her, but not Prim. Like an automaton, her lips parted and she spoke words that remained unknown in their district for decades, words she hadn't even considered in the few seconds that had passed:

"I volunteer!" The Peacekeepers were about to grab Prim by her arms to force her to move, and Katniss yelled louder, "I volunteer as a tribute!"

"No, Katniss!"

She barely glanced back, though she saw her father squeeze her sister tighter to keep her still. Prim tried to grab her several times without success so that she would not leave her, thanks to Gale and her father. Her shrieks were so piercing that Katniss's skin crawled up to the nape of her neck. As she walked not sure of what was pulling her towards the stage, the atmosphere suddenly became unbearable. She thought she detected a hint of desolation in the mayor's eyes, in Elwood's, as she walked up the stairs. Effie Trinket was the only one who smiled as she introduced Katniss, happily explaining that she must be little Prim's sister. There was no applause, as there was when other tributes volunteered in the other districts. Instead, most of the inhabitants of 12 raised their middle three fingers to their lips, then pointed at her by raising them. Katniss bristled again. It was an ancient gesture, a way of showing gratitude, admiration or saying goodbye to a loved one. Most of them might know her because of her father, or from her constant dealings, but she didn't think they particularly liked her. The gesture squeezed her throat so hard she was afraid she would cry right then and there, but Haymitch Abernathy decided it was time to stand out.

For no apparent reason, he put his arm around her shoulders and began to shout, without the need for a microphone:

"Yes! That's bravery!" Katniss tried to move slightly away from him, but she only managed to smell the foul alcohol on his breath even more. "She's braver than all of you!"

Then, he stumbled across the stage to point directly at the camera. Katniss wasn't sure if he was speaking to the people of 12, directly to the Capitol, or to whoever would see them. He took a wrong step after and ended up rolling on the ground, noisily. With the fright, some murmurs spread, but only Michael Elwood rushed to his rescue before the peacekeepers reacted. Katniss could barely blink: the situation was so surreal her mind refused to register it. Effie Trinket continued with the choice of the male tribute, someone named Alder, a chubby boy not much older than Prim, whom Katniss was thankful she didn't know personally. She didn't want to meet his eyes, just avoid him, though they were forced to shake hands as soon as they finished introducing him. His eyes were cold and trembling, almost cowering in fear. For her part, Katniss couldn't help but feel a cold sweat run through every part of her body and, looking at him for a moment, she recognised the same fear in his blue eyes. What had she done? Save her sister. She had to continue saving her, even if it meant taking the life of a boy like that. Or him in particular.

The next few minutes were spent in a cloud of incomprehension, denial, locked in the Palace of Justice, until the doors opened revealing her father and Prim. It was her who rushed at Katniss first, through tears she tried to suppress.

"You'll be fine," she murmured, still clinging to her neck. "You know how to hunt, run and swim. You can win."

Deep down, Katniss knew it wouldn't be possible. She might have been able to survive in 12, but at the Games there would be other volunteers, boys and girls trained by former victors, waiting for their moment of glory. They did not do it for their family, but to achieve fame or honour. But what honour was there on killing a person? Not to worry her more, Katniss leaned into Prim and hugged her tight, breathing in the scent of her hair. If this was going to be the last memory she had of her, she rather it would not be a painful one.

"Maybe," she whispered, since she didn't want her to notice she had already given up. She already had what she wanted. Prim would live, even if she would not there to see it.

"You have to try," she insisted, after a kiss on her cheek that almost made Katniss wonder if she would be able to leave her.

Before a Peacekeeper arrived to tell her the time for her farewell was running out, her father grabbed her with a desperation she had not expected from him.

"You're coming home." The conviction in his voice made it hard for her to meet his gaze, but she did it anyway. It was very likely that this was the last time they looked at each other, that they spoke. "I'm proud of you, Katniss. I know you can do it."

That she could do what? Survive? Become a murderer? There was no time for repproaches, so Katniss mustered all of her strength before hugging them once more.

"I love you. I love you both."

She felt her father's hand refusing to part, and Prim's eyes full of hope. When the officers appeared, Katniss tried to get one last look, her eyes cloudy as they left. To her surprise, she was then allowed to say goodbye to Gale and Madge, no doubt due to the influence of Madge's father. The first insisted on the same things as his father had: being able to hunt, her skills, how she had to strive to return. Madge handed her her favorite badge, a golden mockingjay she wore to the ceremony, the only thing they would let her have from 12 when she was in the stadium. It was too valuable to be wasted on someone like her, especially if she was going to die. Yet it was all she needed. She turned it over in her hands, observing the bird in detail. Suddenly, she thought it would remind her of the forest, of a friend, the only one she had besides Gale. And, above all, it would remind her of her father, what he had taught her, and the songs they had hummed so many times to the mockingjays to disperse into the air.

That day she would also fly away, but no one could take away the love and strength that she would carry in her chest.

Chapter Text

Katniss looked up from the bowl of strawberries. She had eaten a soup that didn't make her wonder what it was made of, real beef, mashed potatoes and even chocolate cake. She felt like she was going to throw up, and even a little gross. That was exactly what Effie seemed to want to scream at her, seeing her eating so anxiously. Katniss gave her an implacable look, the same she gave Haymitch as she watched him down another drink. Alder must have spent the time they had been given to shower and get dressed crying non-stop, as his eyes were completely red and swollen and he kept on moving his food around with the fork. Katniss was at least a head taller than him and three years older too. She remembered, seeing his parents at the farewell, that his family had one of the few shoes and other accessory stores in District 12. He must have been one of those kids who had led a simple life until then, because unlike her, he seemed well fed. Her initial plan had been to ignore him, but it would be difficult. As sadness clouded his features, she couldn't help but feel a surge of sympathy for him. Would she be able to kill him if it came to that?

Focusing on the rest of the train did her no good either. Her room was bigger than her entire house, with a bathroom just for herself, a bathtub that had hot water available immediately, and even closets with more clothes than she needed. So far, she had only seen that and the dining car, decked out even more than the Justice Building. It seemed like a terrible display of wealth to her, as if they were in a contest to top the previous extravagance. And that only for a one-day trip to get to the Capitol… she didn't even want to imagine what awaited them there.

"Let's go watch today's summary," Haymitch told them after dinner was over.

Katniss doubted he would be able to focus on anything. He still looked terrible, and she thought she had heard him vomit shortly after getting on the train. Despite it, she rose to her feet, while Alder hadn't moved.

"Why?" he asked, looking at their mentor with little confidence.

"We have to know your opponents."

"Our killers," the boy corrected, in a shrill little voice. His chin trembled with every word. Katniss feared he was going to cry again.

"A hunter has to study his prey, boy."

"Tell that to her," he replied.

Katniss stared at him for a moment, then frowned slightly. She didn't want to assess her skills as a killer right now, nor did she think Haymitch knew she hunted, the way her father had too before her. She decided to divert attention from her by following her inept mentor.

"Why hasn't Elwood come?"

"Michael is sick. He can't mentor while he's being treated," Effie explained. It was almost impossible, but for a second Katniss had forgotten she was still there.

"You're lucky to have me."

Very lucky, indeed. Katniss turned her back to look at Alder, who pursed his lips, as if he wanted to hold back his tears. Following Haymitch into the room next to hers, she heard the boy's footsteps behind her, clearly defeated. The room was much smaller, but the sofas were just as soft and velvety as the others on the train, and the screen was much thinner than any television she had ever seen. She didn't stop stroking the velvet of her seat as she saw, for the first time, either the boys she would kill or those who would end up killing her. Some caught her eye: the serious-faced blonde girl in 4, a volunteer in 2 who horrified her, or a girl as small as Prim in 11. When it was her district's turn, her stomach clenched as she watched, realising how dramatic it had been, but she didn't let herself look away. As soon as the compilation was over, Haymitch walked over to a small glass table littered with bottles, and Katniss immediately stood up. She just wanted to be left alone with her thoughts. Alder, still red-faced, did the same.

"Goodnight," he said, with a slight thread of voice.

"Goodnight."

In the dining room the ceiling lights had already been turned off, though the lamps were on. Katniss didn't understand the role of half the furniture and knickknacks in her room so she changed into what looked like her pajamas and allowed herself to snuggle under the soft eiderdown. She closed her eyes and tried unsuccessfully to empty her mind for what seemed like an eternity, though all that assailed her was the horrible silence that had followed Prim's name. The bed and pillow were the most comfortable she'd ever slept on. The sheets were soft and the ediderdown light. They didn't smell fresh, though, no rays of light would reach her from there, nor would she have to throw Buttercup out of bed to keep him from disturbing Prim and her. When the clock on the table showed that an exact hour had passed since she went to bed, she stood up. There was nothing there to reassure her, so she went out into the hallway. Everyone must have gone to bed too, because the train was gloomy. Katniss walked barefoot, feeling the carpet under her feet. Without quite knowing why, she headed for the table, perhaps attracted by the glow of the glass tray. There was still some food on the table. The first thing she noticed was that no one had touched the strawberries. She wondered if Prim had eaten them back at home. At the same time, she remembered the thick tears rolling down her father's face when they had said goodbye. Although she had tried to ignore it, it was imposible. He never cried, not in front of his daughters, only when their mother had died and on the nights he thought they were sleeping.

Katniss moved closer to the table. She took a strawberry, two, three and after devouring them she broke down crying in the semi-dark car. She tried to hold back her sobs as she ran back to her compartment. At least no one would hear her there. When she fell asleep, she did only out of sheer exhaustion and her sister's screams starred in her nightmares the whole night. When she woke up, the pillow was cold, damp, and it was so early that the day was still waking up. She climbed into the tub, even though she was perfectly clean, just because she liked the feel of the heat on her skin, which she had rarely had the luxury of feeling. As she floated, she went over what she knew: she could recognised dozens of botanical species thanks to her mother and the edible and inedible plants because of her father. But what if there was no vegetation or trees? It was impossible to guess what the Arena would look like that year. Another good thing was she could swim, many tributes wouldn't be able to say the same and she had only learned because she knew how to sneak into the woods. By the time she realised it, there was a pounding on her door, with Effie's voice on the other side calling her for breakfast. Once again, the amount of food was overwhelming. There were different juices, fruits, breads of all kinds. She didn't even know where to start. She decided on a few slices of bacon, bread and some orange juice, because she couldn't even remember what it tasted like.

"Hot chocolate."

Haymitch's voice took her by surprise. As he leaned toward the table he put down a cup for each of them, in front of her and Alder. Katniss breathed in the scent of the drink, it did smell like chocolate, but she had never seen it that liquid. On the other hand, her mentor decided on more alcohol. He had messy hair and glassy eyes. She had known him for a day and she was already beginning to hate the way he behaved.

"Are you planning on teaching us something useful or are you going to keep drinking?" she scolded him.

Alder looked at her with wide eyes. Even Effie stopped to stare.

"You're charming, sweetheart," her mentor laughed, as if he didn't care about her opinion. "Haven't you been told before?"

Katniss felt her chest heat up. What was he about?

"Is this a joke to you?"

She didn't even think about it, but as she felt the anger growing, the knife she had in her hand to cut the bacon ended up sunking into the wood panel behind Haymitch.

"What are you doing? Have you gone crazy?!" Effie yelled.

Katniss took a breath, frowning, but somewhat more aware of what she had done. She expected shouting back from her mentor, but Haymitch didn't scold her. Instead, he let out a small laugh and looked at her in awe.

"Is there anything else you can do?" he asked, pulling out the knife.

Katniss crossed her arms, leaning back.

"I know how to use a bow."

"What about you, boy?"

She had been modest. She knew how to make snares, fish, swim. Still, she didn't want to boast in front of Alder or at least until she knew how Haymitch was going to help them. If he knew how to do anything other than getting drunk...

"I can…use tools," the boy replied, with a slightly scared expression.

Haymitch returned to his seat, settling back.

"Alright. So you're interested in my advice?"

"Yes," Alder spoke suddenly, decisively.

"Let's make a deal, if you don't touch my alcohol," he began, directing a stern look at Katniss, "I'll help you however I can."

"Okay," she murmured, almost reluctantly.

"The first thing is to make you...presentable."

"You'll have your own stylists as soon as we arrive at the Capitol," Effie explained, glad to be able to contribute. "Image is essential."

Katniss touched the cup. The chocolate was cold enough to drink now.

"That's the first lesson," Haymitch added. "This is a show, and you have to learn to play in a very short time."

Instead of reassuring her, it angered her more. Was her life or her sister's a game? Or Alder's, who most likely hadn't harmed a fly in his life.

"That's disgusting."

"That's life, sweetheart. From now on, it's your turn to show the world you are a good bet. You need all the support you can get."

Breakfast passed in an uncomfortable silence broken only by Effie and her explanations of what would happen in the next few days: their preparation, the tributes' parade, the training. The rest of the day was plunged into the same emptiness, until the train began to approach the Capitol. In the distance, the buildings were already so tall that they seemed to be approaching the sky. Even Katniss hurriedly followed Alder to the window so she wouldn't miss anything as they entered the city. On television everything seemed more gray and boring, but in reality every corner was bright: the pavement, the perfectly designed and clean sidewalks, the pristine glass buildings, the people with thousands of bright colors not only in their clothes, but also in their skin or hair. Her partner kept opening his mouth. With his face almost glued to the glass, he asked, stunned:

"What are they wearing?"

Katniss couldn't take her eyes off either. If she had found Effie strange, it was because she hadn't seen anything yet. The fantasy was broken upon entering the station, with the end of the trip. Without even having fully braked, people began to crowd around the train. The flash from the cameras going off suddenly threw her off balance and closing her eyes, she could only hear Haymitch ask:

"Are you ready?"

Chapter Text

People in the Capitol were out of their minds. There had been screaming and even the occasional fainting in theirs' and the other tributes' arrivals, as Katniss had later seen on television. The emotion those people had shown horrified her, because it proved her right away how disconnected they were from the rest of the world. What was even worse was that now they belonged to them, in a way. They were nothing more than mere entertainment, something to celebrate and a pastime on which they could spend their fortunes. Their sponsorship made tributes totally dependent on them. Haymitch made a point of reminding them, muttering behind both of them they had to smile, as they reached their apartments in the Training Center.

As he had well explained, the first thing was to get them ready for the cameras. The stylists who attended Katniss didn't seem to be bad people, because, at the end of the day, she figured they were just doing their job, but they were just as quirky as everyone she had seen in the Capitol so far. She had imagined they'd only do her hair and makeup but, as if that wasn't enough, they waxed her from top to bottom, and in a rather savage way. She had so little hair everywhere she looked like a girl again. On the other hand, her designer, Cinna, had made a good impression on her. He was young, new to the job, and more human than the stylists, without any cosmetic touch-ups. Katniss feared she would be stripped, exposed, or covered in charcoal along with Alder for the opening ceremony. However, Cinna's designs were pretty and trying on the black leather outfit he had put together for her made Katniss feel powerful. Even Alder looked leaner next to her, and the fake fire that surrounded them gave them a strength that made the audience chant their names. It was a contradictory, strange feeling: Katniss didn't want to be part of that grotesque show, but it was better for them to be noticed than to be considered ridiculous and weak, as it happened every year with the tributes of District 12.

"I've been trying to get you sponsors all day," Effie spoke suddenly in the elevator, making Katniss's mind stop wandering. "I haven't been able to reveal much to them, because Haymitch hasn't told me what his plan is. Anyway, I've explained how much you have both struggled in your district to overcome any obstacle and how Katniss has sacrificed herself for her sister."

It was too painful to dwell on it, so she chose to ignore the comment about Prim. She bet that Haymitch had no strategy at all. She would've preferred Michael Elwood to be there. Even if his advice had been as useless as Haymitch's, at least he would've been more tactful. He seemed like a kind man, and continued to buy food for people from the Seam every year since he'd won.

When they got to their floor and she saw her mentor waiting for them on the couch, Katniss wanted to shake him, provoke any kind of reaction. What was he waiting for? Couldn't he give them any useful advice? What did they have to do to get sponsors? How should they deal with the careers? Would they be able to do that?

"Whose idea was it to hold hands?" he asked them as soon as they arrived, with a crooked smile. Katniss didn't know if it was a good thing that he seemed so cheerful. "A bit rebellious, but without going too far. Very suitable. Have you seen the others?"

Alder shook his head and sat down to the right of him, then Katniss followed suit. In the repetition of the parade, the other couples hardly even looked at each other, as if they were already about to kill each other. Maybe that's why they had stood out so much.

"Cinna asked us," Alder explained, before scratching his face uncomfortably. "And well, it's just that I... I was nervous."

It must've helped hide it, Katniss thought. She had been nervous too, but she had learned to hide her feelings long time ago, many times so as not to worry her sister. Her father, however, said that those who really knew her, like him, could read her like an open book. Katniss continued to look at the other tributes. There were also other winners, other mentors, like Finnick Odair. It still seemed unreal to be there, to have seen him briefly in person, even if he had been away in the distance. It had been unbelievable too to recognise President Snow, so serious, on his balcony. He hadn't impressed her so much, but pissed her off to no end instead. He was just a regular-looking man, but a wicked and despicable old one.

"Tomorrow morning is the first training session. We'll meet at breakfast and discuss how you should act," Haymitch announced.

"But..." Katniss said, trying to stop him.

That man was hopeless. She decided it was better not to make a scene again. Besides, she needed to sleep well to train properly the next day, so for one night, she would behave. The Training Center's gym was just as luxurious as the entire complex, with experts in different skills who would help them, areas with instructions for use, survival and fighting tactics... They were also told fighting was prohibited, since they would have plenty of time to kill themselves in the Arena. As the supervisor explained the rules, Katniss couldn't help but glance at the other tributes out of the corner of her eye. In the parade, they had had little time to see each other. Her stomach dropped. The careers were much taller and stronger than her, even the girls, and most of them weren't afraid to look down on the others, as if it was clear they were the only possible winners. The other half of the tributes were just children and as skinny as she was. Not even the uniforms they had been made to wear made them equal in any way.

"Do you want to start making some snares?" she asked Alder, when they were left to their own devices. The boy hadn't said a word all morning.

"I don't know how," he murmured, not meeting her eyes.

"But you know how to saw, right?" she insisted, stopping in front of him. "Polish and stuff. Do you help your parents with the shoes?"

"Yes."

"Then it won't be so difficult. Come on, I'll teach you."

Since there was no one in that booth or around them, Katniss was able to explain, as well as she could, what her own father had taught her. She didn't know if she was a very good teacher, but in the end Alder managed to make a trap without getting his fingers caught, and that was already quite the achievement. They were almost done when she noticed someone watching them a few steps ahead. Looking up, she realised it was the girl from 4.

"What's her name?" she asked in a whisper.

Alder looked around for a bit and discreetly returned to his trap.

"I think she's Estee."

Katniss didn't look at her again until she was in front of them. What did she want? She hoped she wouldn't be looking for trouble so soon.

"Not bad," the girl commented, without saying hello. "Are you interested in learning how to make some hooks? A net?"

Luckily, Alder nodded timidly before she could react. Why was she talking to them? Judging by her awkward posture, her arms crossed and her expression just as serious as on TV, she concluded she looked like she didn't know what to do with herself. Katniss followed along with Alder without taking her eyes off of her.

"Why aren't you with your partner?" she asked.

The blonde girl didn't seem to react badly to such a direct question.

"Because he's not going to do anything," she replied almost grimacing. "Robin's against any kind of violence."

Katniss held back the urge to laugh bitterly, well, did she look like she enjoyed murdering people? She didn't think she had seen him around, but she imagined him resigned to death. It was cruel. It was unfair to sacrifice so many children each year for something that had happened 74 years ago, but that's how the powerful stayed where they were, by repressing others. Every minute she spent there she felt a little more like Gale. She had never considered his anger to be of any use, because wailing and complaining wasn't going to change the poverty in which they lived. She remembered his father criticising the Capitol whenever he could too, though never in front of Prim. Her mother used to criticise him for it, for teaching them to stand up, for singing forbidden songs. What if she didn't come home? Would his fighting spirit remain intact? Would he fight more to give Prim a better future, or would he let himself go? It haunted her that her family would have to move on and she wouldn't be there to see it.

Over the next two days, they continued their deal with Estee. She didn't talk much, nor did she seem to be looking for friends, although when she wasn't with them, Katniss always saw her alone. It was weird because she was from 4, but she hadn't seen her look at those from the first districts even once. Perhaps the training made her nervous as well. The careers gave Katniss the same disturbing feeling, because they spent the day exchanging tense glances and offhand comments, trying to impress everyone with their skills. Katniss had already decided that during the week they would have to train, she wouldn't show anyone she knew how to use a bow. At least at night she was so tired she didn't have to think about anything to fall asleep, though by the third or fourth night, she had already grown sick of staring at the artificial screens of her windowless room. She was convinced there had to be a place for her to look out from, and she was determined to discover it. She guessed they weren't supposed to wander around other levels, but Haymitch wasn't there when she came out to the living room. They had already had dinner, so she was sure they were all resting, drinking in Haymitch's case or doing who knows what. When they had been explained how the building was divided, no one had said anything about the roof, but Katniss had the vague impression she had seen a ledge at the top. She could try to find the rooftop. Getting to the elevator was easy, as the corridors were submerged in silence, but the amount of buttons the device had did not help at all. She could only recognise the numbers of each district, on their respective floors, so she touched all the buttons that were above hers and hoped for the best. In a stroke of luck, she was able to find what she was looking for, on the top floor the elevator reached and up a secluded few stairs.

The view from the top of the Training Center took her breath away. There were many taller buildings around, and too many lights to see the stars. The wind whipped hard into her face, but she didn't mind. If she closed her eyes she could pretend she was in the woods and not there, about to be forced to fight for her life. She leaned against the edge of the ledge and watched the lights flicker and change. How many people lived there? Of all of them, how many had ever seen a district in the flesh? To them, who didn't have to sacrifice themselves, they were just kids on a screen, unreal, like characters in a story. But it wasn't fiction. The capital did seem too exaggerated to be true. Katniss had managed to clear her mind, but what she had reflected on made her more uneasy, so she decided to return to her level, covering herself with the only cardigan she had found in the closet. When she got back to the elevator and aimed to press '12' someone had already touched the first level and she was propelled down. Oh no, she thought to herself, with her heart in her throat. She couldn't let anyone see her. She endured the descent nervously, although when the doors opened she was only greeted by silence. She took a few steps forward and found no one around her. She hurried in and pressed '12' frantically, but nothing happened. Either the panel wasn't obeying her or she didn't know how to handle it.

"Dammit."

Katniss got out, after checking that no one saw her in the half-dark entrance, and she waited for another elevator, just a few meters to her right. They had dozens of those machines. Anything to avoid walking. She was already uneasy standing there in front of it, but hearing voices approaching made her pulse soar. She couldn't come up with anything more clever than hiding in the corner that led to the stairs. She couldn't stay down there much longer or they would find her. To her misfortune, the two people who had arrived went straight to the elevator. They were a man and a woman, and Katniss was unable to recognise them from their voices.

"Just name your price," she heard the woman say.

Katniss caught her breath and peeked out slightly from her hiding spot. She could only see her back, her short hairstyle and elegant suit, she looked middle-aged. However, when she looked to the her side, she found the side profile of someone she did identify. That golden hair and tanned skin were definitely Finnick Odair's. His voice sounded tired, though he was cracking a smile.

"I don't need any money."

"Everybody knows what you do, Mr. Odair."

Katniss watched as he set his jaw, before fixing his gaze on his companion. He seemed more upset, all of a sudden.

"You're clearly mistaken."

"President Snow..."

Odair interrupted her by letting out a bitter laugh that surprised Katniss, and so was the woman. Then he lightly touched her arm, and leaning into her ear, said something Katniss couldn't quite make out. The woman, however, jerked away from him quickly, as if she had been burned.

"How do you know…?"

She was pale. Even from there Katniss noticed she was trembling. What had he told her to react like that?

"Goodnight, dear," Finnick concluded, with the smile he used to impress every time a camera focused on him.

The woman had no choice but to leave, her heels clicking on the cold marble, her expression broken. Katniss took a step forward, almost imperceptibly. The gesture, though, wasn't lost on Finnick, who turned his head in her direction at the same time the elevator beeped.

"Are you going in?"

Katniss moved forward silently, avoiding his gaze and wondering if it would be sensible to stand alone in such a reduced place with him.

"Do I know you?"

She shook her head and stood beside him, as far as the width of the elevator allowed her, wishing that at least her hair would cover her features. Maybe he wouldn't be able to place her. It was late and dark after all. Too late to be out and about. Perhaps he was also a drinker like Haymitch, a party-goer or whatever he was into. However, she noticed the victor's gaze, watching her carefully as the door closed.

"Yes, you're that girl." He sounded pleased to have noticed. "The one from District 12."

She didn't think it was a good idea to play along but...why did she care anymore? She was already dead, so she spoke.

"I wasn't listening," she muttered.

Katniss glanced at him and noticed a grimace spreading on his face, something from which Finnick recovered quickly. There was more concern on his face now and his eyelid seemed to be trembling.

"You'd better become a better liar, honey. Welcome to the Capitol," he wished her, leaning against the elevator railing. "What are you doing over here? Going for a walk?"

Katniss found herself blushing without wanting to. It didn't seem like he was that much older than her or the other older tributes. Of course, he had been the youngest winner in the history of the Games at only 14 years old. She had to admit, quite angry at herself, that it was true he was attractive. He was tall, had a perfect smile, well-proportioned features, and clear eyes. That only made him more annoying. Was that truly happening? What was she doing, speaking to Finnick Odair? It was so absurd she almost couldn't believe it.

"I don't know how these things work, okay?" She replied, crossing her arms. "I'm going to my level now."

"Relax, I'm not a Peacekeeper," he replied, letting out a light laugh. The way he had completely changed his demeanour was astonishing. "And don't worry, you'll get used to the technology."

Katniss stared at the ground. What if he told someone he had seen her? Although, truth be told, what was the worst they could do to her if they found out? Kill her? And why was the ride up taking so long? She felt her body tensing a bit more with each passing second.

"Has Estee taught you anything useful?"

"Excuse me?" she had to ask, since she hadn't heard him.

"Estee. She liked your snares."

Katniss had to stop herself from showing her surprise. So the tributes who had mentors in their right minds, at least apparently, talked more than they did to Haymitch… Katniss guessed Finnick Odair had something else to say besides the "stay alive" line from her mentor.

"She…makes good hooks."

"Yeah. She also told me you were good at it." Katniss turned to look at him, a little annoyed. Didn't he get tired of talking? "I wonder how a girl from 12 knows how to fish. It's rather unusual."

She held his gaze, though she caught the amused tone in his voice, like it was actually funny.

"Who says I do?" she replied.

Finnick gave her one last smile, before the doors opened on his floor.

"Sweet dreams, Miss Everdeen."

The young man looked back, but Katniss didn't answer him as she knitted her brows. The elevator continued to 12, leaving her with a strange feeling in her stomach. She wasn't sure if she had made a friend or her first enemy, but she did know she shouldn't have listened to whatever she had witnessed.

Chapter Text

"Who took my knife?"

Cato's scream made the whole gym stop to look at him. Katniss raised her eyes from the survival strategies booth and directed her attention to the area where the knifes were kept.

"You!" he shouted, looking at a boy, maybe from 6 or 7. Katniss didn't even know his name. The poor boy stepped back as Cato moved closer to him, with a threatening expression on his face.

"W-What?" he stammered. "No! I-I haven't…"

"Where did you put it? No one touches my fucking things!"

A couple of Peacekeepers appeared to separate them, even though they were late, since Cato had already grabbed the boy by his collar and immediately pushed him against the spear metal structure. Katniss was able to hide her surprise by stepping back with discretion. She swallowed as the weapons fell to the floor with a loud thud and one boy jumped on top of the other. Everyone was staring at the scene in pure horror, quiet, as if they were being reminded of what they were doing there, what would happen in just a few days.

Katniss, however, hadn't forgotten death was breathing down her neck. She followed the intervention of the Peacekeepers with attention and when she turned to go somewhere else, a slight shine coming for above made her look up. In the ceiling, she couldn't phantom how she had managed to get there anyway, was the little girl from District 11, the one who reminded her of Prim. She was holding the knife that "was" Cato's, smiling happily.

Although Cato's tantrum had unsettled her, a grin escaped from Katniss' lips. It was ironic that someone as small as that girl had provoked such chaos. Their eyes met for a moment and Rue smiled at her again. How had she climbed so high? Cato's rage was expected, but not Rue's ability. Then, Katniss took note of it: expect the unexpected from everyone. Rue was lucky no one else had spotted her. Katniss turned to look at Robin, Estee's partner, who was roaring with laughter and seemed not to care about the girl from District 2, looking daggers at him. Katniss felt like telling that idiot that even if she defended him, Cato would end up killing her too and he wouldn't lose sleep over it, District's partner or not.

"Busy morning, kids?" Haymitch mentioned later, while Katniss was unsure if he was joking or hiding the same horror she felt under the sarcasm.

"That boy is a psycho," she replied instantly. "He has a favorite knife."

When she looked at Alder, who was sat in front of her, Katniss saw a platter full of meat to his side. She perceived the scent of a fruity smell when she moved, which distracted her from the conversation.

"What's that?"

The boy looked at her calmly, something that astounded her for some reason.

"Some sort of poultry with orange sauce, I think. You should try it," he suggested, before he moved the dish towards her.

"Thanks, Alder."

"They'll have plenty of time to kill each other inside," she heard Haymitch muttered. Seeing him pigging out on a piece of lamb was quite unexpected, an addition to his usual intake of alcohol. "How are you doing making friends? Any alliance worth mentioning?"

Alliances, Katniss thought, almost shivering. He had suggested it to both of them and she would've rather not having asked at all.

"I hate the Careers."

"I'm scared of them," Alder added, with his face down.

At least Haymitch had the decency not to mock him.

"Well…and what about 4? You've spend some time with that girl."

"She isn't letting on about what she can do."

"Then she must be as nice as you are, sweetheart."

Katniss stared blankly at him, in silence, and decided to share what she thought had learned about her.

"She's faster than we thought. Alder was watching her run yesterday and I watched her throwing knives." The boy nodded to her words. "She isn't a bad shooter, even if she isn't that strong. I think she knows how to adapt to the circumstances."

Katniss had seen her five consecutive knives to a bullseye, almost grazing the center, which had led her to believe maybe Estee wasn't as innocent as she appeared. At the same time, thinking the worse of her made her feel strangely guilty. Maybe the rest thought the same when they looked at her. That was what they achieved at the Games too: they forced them to mistrust everyone, become even more divided, they were also there for that reason. They wouldn't only kill each other, but reinforce the differences among the districts.

"Mmm, " Haymitch pondered, with his face resting on one of his hands, listening, but looking like he wasn't at the same time. "Not bad. If we have their support…4 would attract more sponsors by extension. And Finnick Odair has mentioned you."

He had dropped the last comment so casually Katniss thought she hadn't heard it right. At least until Haymitch turned to look at her. Then she almost choked with her food.

"Me?"

"Yes, you, sweetheart."

Katniss clenched her jaw. Alder was right there, being reminded he wouldn't be considered a good bet. Haymitch could be a drunk, but he didn't seem to be a cruel drunk.

"Why?"

"I figure that girl only trusts you two," he answered, and Katniss felt rapid relief hearing he included both of them. "Odair also said something about you seeming to have a strong personality."

She felt the sweat in her lower back as she finished chewing. What if he told him he had caught her sniffing around? She was certain talking to other mentors wasn't allowed.

"An alliance with 4 cannot be rejected so easily."

Katniss sipped her water and shook her head.

"I'm not sure."

Her mentor groaned.

"What do you mean you aren't sure?"

She couldn't grow fond of anyone. Well, growing fond was an exaggeration. She could leave it at being actual allies. She couldn't trust anyone, no one apart from Alder.

"Who do you want?"

"I don't know," she replied, after shrugging a bit. "Rue."

"That little girl from 11?" Haymitch asked, to then let out a snort. "Alder?"

"I'm fine with Estee and Robin. He's right, violence isn't good, and she's not a lunatic like everyone else. If she has to kill me, she'll do it quickly and I won't suffer."

As if the conversation was already ended, Katniss watching him clean himself with the napkin and stood up. However, she noticed how he trembled a little when he moved his chair. In that moment, she realized the reason for his apparent calm the whole evening. He was simply giving up.

"Wait…" she tried to say, but the boy was already hurrying to his room. "Alder!"

"Let him be," Haymitch said, sighting a bit, before leaning forward. "Look, Katniss…training and learning other people's weakness is great, but you also have to be appealing."

She was about to answer back when he raised his hand to stop her from talking over.

"Not physically," he clarified. "It's all about people liking you. No more being so cutting. Alliances aren't a whim of mine, girl, so stop treating them like it. A lonely wolf goes nowhere, without a pack it's not even a wolf anymore."

Katniss glanced at Alder's door for a second and back to Haymitch again, pursing her lips. He was trying to conceive her, it appeared.

"You use metaphors now? Why are you telling me without him being present?"

"You and I both know that boy has nothing to do," he murmured.

For a moment, while their eyes met, Katniss thought she could notice the tiredness hidden behind her mentor's voice.

"He knows more than he seems."

Those last days she had discovered he was an attentive observer and a quick learner. He was only afraid, like everyone else. Like she was too.

"Maybe. But he's completely without malice."

Katniss' annoyed expression became a grimace. She could dislike Haymitch's behaviour but that didn't give him the right to judge her, or believe he knew her. She couldn't help but feel her heart sinking a little, was that what he thought of her?

"And I am?"

"You're Benton Everdeen's eldest," Haymitch replied, before drinking.

That wasn't a proper question, just a distraction, but Katniss went along with it. Malice and her father in the same sentence couldn't go together.

"How do you know my father?"

Haymitch repressed a bitter laugh, as if the question was stupid and Katniss felt herself reddening. Truth be told, almost everybody knew each other in 12 one way or another.

"I'm not much younger than him and I know what he does, or what he did, rather. What you do now. Your father is a survivor and I'm not saying it because he survived the accident." In his mouth, it sounded like a praise, since she had hardly heard him compliment anyone. "You are one too. You have what it takes."

Ever since the accident, ever since her father had to give up hard work because of his leg, they had had to juggle to survive. Her mother had been a decent healer and with her father's job in the mines they had a very humble life, but sufficient, because they had each other. There were no luxuries, but they were happy. Her father had a limp but he was alive, unlike many others, and shortly after her mother's heart failed. Innocence was gone. Escaping into the forest in secret went from being a childish adventure to their sustenance.

"Perhaps to kill a turkey or a deer," said Katniss. "People aren't beasts."

"Are you sure? For most of the tributes you're just a number. They won't think about it twice." She didn't doubt it, but she wanted to think she wouldn't become them. "Do you know what your problem is? You want to protect everyone."

Katniss listened silently, without giving him the satisfaction of reacting.

"Your sister. How could you not do it? I won't argue about that," Haymitch admitted. "Now there's Alder, because he is from home. And that little girl. Because she's too young to die, isn't she?"

She wanted to scream at him, tell him she didn't know her, that less than a week ago they had been two strangers who hadn't even crossed paths in their District, so he had no right to analyze her or her family. She bit her lip instead and stared at him angrily.

"So what? Why do you care?"

If she had already been forced to volunteer, to be a tribute without wishing to, at least they wouldn't take away any more decisions from her. What reasons did she have to act as she did, to protect others? She could only think of Prim's honest smile, the way her mother would've cried helplessly had she seen her, but also how she would've been proud of her bravery. She also thought of her father's efforts to keep them afloat, even though he could no longer go down to the mines. There was goodness everywhere, even in people she thought she didn't know. Estee was also there, accompanying her and Alder in silence, perhaps moved by the human instinct that impelled all of them not to be left alone. She thought of herself and Gale, how they shared everything they had, of Madge's friendship, asking for nothing in return. Deep down, Haymitch was right. Her wishes were impossible, because there would only be one of them left, no matter how badly she wanted to change the world. They wouldn't only dehumanize them, but they'd kill all their hope as well.

"You have to go beyond that," she heard Haymitch say. "Forget about your morals, if you need."

Katniss shook her head and cleared her throat to prevent it from closing up. She didn't mind crying, but she didn't want to do it in front of him.

"And why are you telling me to make allies, then? You aren't making any sense." At that moment, she stood up, ready to imitate Alder. However, she ended up halfway, tracing a circle with her footsteps, in front of the TV, as if she could soothe herself that way. Haymitch had more than two coherent sentences to offer for once, so she would have to take advantage of it. "Do I care too much or am I better left alone?"

He didn't rise from his chair, but leaned back nonchalantly.

"Allies are a tool, a protection. You'll get some tributes off your back if you can help each other out for a few days. If you haven't been killed already, you then separate and pray you don't come across each other. Meanwhile, the sponsors see what you are capable of, decide who their favorite is…," he explained, gesturing with his hand. "Nobody bets on a bad-tempered girl who has nothing to offer to the other tributes because that doesn't generate any comment. This is television."

Katniss didn't look up, because she didn't want to see him smirk, or tell her how nice and polite she would have to appear. His reasoning made some sense. Was that what he had done? The truth was she knew nothing of his Games or how he had been able to win.

"I'll think about it," she gave in, causing Haymitch to look at her with triumph written all over his face. If he truly believed it was for her own good, she had no choice but give it a thought.

"I'll know the world is ending the day you say something nice, sweetheart."

"And you something useful," Katniss mumbled, before slipping away into the silence of her room.

Chapter Text

Katniss held up Cinna's sketch of her dress and observed it, aware that he was expecting some kind of reaction. The dress, an intense red one, had one shoulder uncovered and the other finished off with a bit of tulle. It had more shape on the bottom, though it looked like it would tighten to her body overall.

“Do you like the color?”

It was flashy enough to make a dress that would’ve been dull in any other shade more impressive, even too much for someone like her. Perhaps it woud made her look more confident, elegant, or older.

Katniss nodded and gave Cinna a small smile. The gold outlining his eyes left her mesmerized every time she saw it. She would’ve never expected to see a man wearing makeup. Before coming to the Capitol, she'd had almost no idea about it, and no reason to do it anyway. At 12 there were few girls who could afford it, though Katniss remembered Madge on her last birthday, trying to impress Gale with it, like the rest of the girls in her class did with one boy or another. Even Prim was still playing with some old blush powder that had been their mother's, which was almost completely broken.

“It needs a couple modifications and tomorrow you'll try it on to check that everything suits you.”

As she looked down, Katniss noticed some orange and red streaks sticking out on the skirt of the dress.

“Are those…?”

"Flames, yes. They're not real, don't worry. People will associate you well with that thanks to the parade,” Cinna explained calmly. Nothing had happened to her back then, so she trusted him for the interview. “Being remembered is good. They might even give you a nickname.”

Katniss let out a small laugh. What reason did they have to remember an insignificant girl from 12? That's what the professionals were for, they were the real draw for the spectators. Still, she allowed herself to think about it for a second.

“A nickname. What would it be?” she asked him.

“I don't know. Something like…the girl on fire.”

The girl on fire sounded catchy, dangerous too, more so than she actually was. However, she didn’t find it so silly. One time was a coincidence, twice, premeditation. It would help create her character as well as her own attitude would do.

"I have something I want to take to the arena. It's a brooch.”

She didn't have it with her, but after a short walk from the dining room to her room, she let Cinna look at it. She was grateful that he didn't ask what it meant to her, or why she wanted to take it to the Arena. He just looked at it for a moment, as if he was admiring its shine, and then nodded.

“No problem.”

Of course, he couldn't give her any clues as to how she would dress for the Games or it would’ve given her a significant advantage. Or maybe he didn't even know at all. It seemed too valuable an information to share with so many people that collaborated designing clothes and dressing the tributes.

"Thank you, Cinna," Katniss said, after taking her seat again. “Showing the dress’ trick will help me not have so much to talk about, I suppose.”

She thought about what Haymitch had told her the days before. She couldn't seem unapproachable, let alone angry, but receptive, even hopeful. Having to fake a sense of happiness she didn't feel was an added torture.

"Pretend it's me and not Caesar, it'll be over before you know it, you'll see."

Cinna trying to cheer her up made her smile genuinely. His presence reassured her, for at least he wasn't camouflaging the horrors hidden behind excessive appearances and murders promoted as if they were a fictional game.

“See you tomorrow.”

Katniss stayed on the couch for a long time. She had slight soreness in her legs and most of the afternoon free until dinner, all time for herself. Even so, the break would hardly last because she had to go over the protocol at night and the next day with Effie as well. There were two days left for the individual test, another one for the interview and then…then the Games. She didn't think about it before her body headed almost by itself to the only place she could flee, as she had fled into the woods many times in 12. If she was stealthy there, it couldn't be very difficult to repeat the path of a few nights ago.

This time she didn't have to hesitate, but she did have to be alert, and, although she was lucky, the result was not as satisfactory. The city was different by day. Though dusk would soon fall, without the night lights it looked like a hideous block of concrete, well designed, rich and impressive, but unnatural nonetheless. The only thing that broke the monotony was a huge fountain with a few jets that didn’t stop going up and down, something Katniss could barely make out from above. With what they would waste in barely an hour, the entire Seam could bathe and drink, and it was no exaggeration. The thought of her home made her stomach clench, because if she came back she would do it only by herself, alone, and it would imply having left 23 people, not just bodies, behind her too. Did she have enough strength to bear living with that burden?

Her gaze drifted down as she leaned against the ledge of the terrace. There was something missing, something she hadn't noticed the other night. The wall didn't even reach her waist, there was no glass or any protection around either. She had to take a deep breath, trying not to let the fear building in her throat overwhelm her as she became aware of the distance that separated her from the floor. The thought crept into her mind silently, stealthily: for how long would a person fall from up there? Would one even come to feel it when they crashed? It was an unpleasant solution, brave or cowardly, depending on who you asked.

"You can't do it, if you're considering it."

Hearing another voice behind her was so unexpected that Katniss gave a little jump on the spot, pulling her hands away from the wall. She found it slightly familiar, though not enough to name it, but enough to worry about. Turning around, her suspicions were confirmed. Of course she knew him. Again, she thought to herself with annoyance. It’s him again.

"There's a force field," Finnick explained, inching towards her.

“How do you know?”

She had a hard time imagining him thinking about ending it all, if that was what he meant, knowing from experience.

"They've tried several times," he answered simply, as if it were normal. “So… you again.”

Katniss stared at him, sensing an accusation.

"Maybe you are the one who's following me. I’ve got here before you.”

The moment she said it, she felt her face heat up. That had sounded like a petulant girl's remark.

"There's plenty of room for both of us, don't you think?" Finnick asked, looking around. “You don't have a monopoly on silence either, Everdeen. How did you come across this, anyway?”

From the tone of his voice, he seemed a bit surprised, actually. Escaping, she didn’t say out loud. Like you. But what was Finnick Odair escaping from?

"I was looking for...a real window. A little air.”

“I see. That's what you were doing the other night, right?”

Katniss decided not to answer. She silently watched him walk to sit on top of the ledge, a few feet across from her, as if the height weren't intimidating, while she could still taste the fear rising in her throat. He was carrying some kind of bag, from which he took out a square container he opened after settling down. Seeing what he had brought, Katniss couldn't help but shake her head.

"Are you going to eat a damn cake? Don't you have tables on level 4?”

Finnick chuckled, after glancing at her sideways, in a gesture that revealed a pair of dimples that Katniss hadn't even noticed before.

“I'm hungry. Why? Do you want to try it?”

Unlike Cinna, he didn't put on makeup and if he actually did, it didn't look like it. Maybe he thought he didn't need it, he seemed vain enough for that to be the reason. What should have been a thought slipped past Katniss's lips without much remorse:

“Shouldn’t you be with your tributes?”

He shrugged.

“Estee is resting. Robin hasn't wanted to see anyone all day. They don't need me right now.”

“So, since there's nothing up here...no one will come looking for you. Is that so?”

"That and the microphones," he said, cocking his head and taking the first bite of his snack. “There aren’t any.”

Katniss looked away for a moment. She imagined they were spying on them, following them everywhere with cameras, but listening to them too? Her mouth went dry.

“Everywhere?”

“In many places.”

"Even in elevators?"

“Sometimes. In none you’ve been in.”

She knew what he was thinking about, their coincidental meeting.

"You’re sure you don't want to try it?" he insisted, looking at her. Katniss wrinkled her nose a little, silently. “Don't look at me like that, I'm not going to give you anything.”

Under any other circumstances she would’ve found it disgusting to do as much as touch that spoon, although, what did it matter now? Very soon someone would be relentlessly chasing her to kill her. Still, she had tried worse, like Sae's stew. It was better not knowing what it was made of. She came up next to him, still not quite convinced of what she was doing. It would’ve been wiser to have left as soon as she had seen him.

“What is it?”
The piece was covered in chocolate, with some white layer down the middle and something on top that must have been whipped cream.

“They call it Black Forest.”

When he passed the spoon over with a bite, Katniss didn't look at his face. The cake looked good and tasted even better. If she hadn't been so worried about her fate, she would’ve allowed herself to try every ridiculous dish on offer at the Capitol. Then, she took a couple of steps away, licking her lips, before putting a safe distance between them again.

"The chocolate is… very good," she ended up admitting, before realizing the sweet but bitter aftertaste it left on her tongue. “What’s in it?”

He must’ve realized the look on her face, as he smiled slightly.

“It's because of the cake’s layers. They soak them in kirsh.”

"What’s that?"

“A cherry liquor. Have you tried it before? Not kirsh, chocolate in general.”

She was surprised to hear he wasn't mocking her. There was no trace of a smug smile on his face either. It sounded like a real question.

"Not as a drink," she replied. “I tried it on the train for the first time.”

"The food didn't surprise me, but the people…" Finnick suppressed a laugh and finished the last bite, then rubbed his hands together. “On my Victory Tour the best thing was the trees. At 6, 11. I'd never seen a place as wild as 12.”

Katniss locked eyes with him for a moment. She didn't understand what she was doing there, why she was talking to him, it didn't make sense and it all wasn’t going anywhere and yet… It was interesting to think about how different their lives had been. It was also decisive, being born in one district or another, because it conditioned your whole life and even how you thought. It was true that there were some movements between districts and some workers to relocate from time to time, but they were rare still. Apart from those, the only trips she could think of were the ones the winners were allowed to do.

"I've never seen the sea," she said, which was obvious, turning her gaze to the sky beginning to break out in orange flashes.

She was surprised at herself for saying it, because she was being honest with him and he wasn't even her own mentor. He could use anything she was telling him against her. When she looked at him again, she got the impression that there was some empathy in his gaze.

“Maybe one day you’ll do.”

She knew it would never happen, but Katniss tried to ease and release the pressure that had built up in her body since she saw him arriving. There was something she could ask him, now she had him in front of her.

"Why do you think allying is a good idea?"

Finnick jumped down from his seat and leaned against the wall, a little more than an arm's length from her, although he looked to the horizon.

“Estee could learn a couple things from you. Some courage,” he added in a whisper. “And Robin too, without a doubt, although he has said no to anyone, of course.”

Estee didn't need her. She was good with her hands, serious and she didn't let herself be distracted by nonsense. In that respect they were alike. And courage? She wasn’t sure about what was more unexpected: the fact that someone thought she had been brave, or simply that she was considered valuable in some way. Her, who only wanted to save Prim and didn't think she had a real chance of coming back alive.

“But why?,” she asked, too confused with the direction the conversation was taking. Could she trust him, allies or not? Up to what point?

“Estee seems to trust you. You jumped for your sister without hesitation, Everdeen, and that can't be faked. There is nothing authentic here, those who win...many of them never know what sacrifice is. You do, right?,” he asked, more gently. “For that alone you should go back home. Damn, I'd send all 24 of you back if I could.”

Katniss saw him shake his head slightly afterwards, his eyes off, as if he didn't believe he'd said such a thing. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing either. Anywhere but there, if what Finnick had said was true, speaking that way wouldn't have been the wisest thing to do. It didn’t seem compatible to talk about the Games in that way and being the golden winner that was put on the screens at all hours. Or maybe it was just that, she thought suddenly, as if it were a revelation. Maybe it was the same acting Haymitch wanted so badly for her and Alder. But if Finnick had already won, why did it matter so much what he did or didn't do?

"I don't consider myself much of a good bet," Katniss said, making Finnick look at her again. Effie would’ve killed her, had she heard her, because she was supposed to convince him, not the other way around. “I don't care what happens to me. I’ve already got what I wanted.”

“Is that so?”

“Prim’s alive.”

“Is that your sister?”

She nodded before returning her gaze to the ground.

"So, you don't want to increase your chances of going home?"

“I don't want anyone to give me false illusions. Doesn't Estee want to return too? Being allies is pointless if we are going to end up killing each other in the end.”

“That's the way the world works, Everdeen.”

She was tired of everyone telling her the same thing, first Haymitch and now him. That was the harsh reality they were facing, as her mentor had warned her, allies were nothing more than instruments, even if they were still people.

“Knowledge is important, so sharing it is beneficial for everyone. I won't lie to you,” he pronounced seriously. “The decisions you’ll make won’t be easy. In the end...in the end it all comes down to fear. Fear makes you freeze, and then it won't matter what any of you know. Trust me, I speak from experience.”

Katniss couldn’t remember his Games, it had been a while since that, and then she was just a child. Still, it was clear that Finnick wasn't the youngest winner in the history of the Games for no reason. When they talked about him, they usually pointed out how he had killed so many others, almost effortlessly. That didn't sound like a scared fourteen-year-old, but a trained one. Katniss had to swallow before looking up at him.

“And how do you do it?”

“Do what?”

"Kill someone," it gave her goosebumps, just saying it. “I don't mean…not the act of killing. How do you not think about it?”

How could she live with herself afterwards? If she came back, how would others perceive her? Her father, Prim. Would there be anything left of the girl they knew? Katniss expected any answer, she maybe wished there was some hope to hold on to, but he seemed just as taken aback.

"If you find the answer, Everdeen, I'd like to know it too. Sounds like you have a lot to ponder. Think about it and tell Haymitch for once, alright?”

His attitude had only baffled her. The charisma she displayed was the same one that drove the cameras crazy, although that afternoon there was something more human behind the surface. She turned to see him before he opened the door back into the hallway.

"Finnick," she stopped him. “Thanks for... the cake.”

Actually, for the information, the help, in some way, that she could get from his words. He only nodded his head slightly, before disappearing into the artificial light of the interior.

"See you, Everdeen."

Chapter Text

Six

"Robin. Do you already know what you're doing for your assessment?"

Even though Finnick was staring at him, the boy continued to gobble down his dinner, as if he were in a contest to see who could eat the most. Every time he poked at the food he did it with such energy it looked more like a knife than a fork.

"It's tomorrow," he reminded him, trying to be patient. He was angry, that was clear. That was what happened when you were approaching imminent death.

"So? What difference is that going to make?" he retorted, sending him a glare filled with rage.

Whether he liked it or not, Finnick was his mentor, a job that had been imposed, but his duty nonetheless. From his position he could advise them, he could comfort them. He hardly ever saved them.

"Are you aware of how many tributes die of natural causes? You don't have to kill anyone, sometimes it just happens."

"No one has won like that."

Finnick was silent for a moment, choking the lump that formed in his throat by drinking from his glass of water.

"Annie did," he replied, almost in a whisper. He didn't want to, but maybe it would help Robin hear it, and Estee too. "She hid throughout all the Games."

"Yeah, and was it worth it for her to win?"

The fork slipped clumsily from his fingers and he suddenly couldn't breathe. Annie…it still hurt to think of her. Two years had passed since she was gone and he suspected that even if twenty more passed her mention would continue to leave him just as paralyzed. Of course it had been worth it. She had given him the best years of his life, the ones they had been able to enjoy together until she couldn't take it anymore. Now he could only see her in his dreams, floating with the rhythm of the waves of the sea, lifeless, finding the calm she had never recovered, because the experiences in the Arena had taken it from her. He should've done something, he should've done more.

Finnick picked up his fork slowly, noticing Estee slamming her partner under the table. He blinked a few times and smiled slightly at the girl. It was just the comment of a pissed-off fifteen-year-old who didn't know what it really meant to him.

"Sorry," the boy muttered.

"Can we talk about the interview?" Estee interrupted. "I don't want to do it all. I don't know what to say."

"The best thing is to be optimistic, nice. Just be yourself." At least she wouldn't have a problem with that. She was a quiet girl, but smart enough to know what she was immersed in. "We'll write a few lines together to practice if that makes you feel better, okay?"

Estee nodded several times, with a shy smile. Finnick thought about himself almost a decade ago, about Mags, who had become his only family and still was. She had treated him with affection, not deceiving him at all, but being realistic instead. The fourteen-year-old Finnick who had arrived at the Capitol was very different from those two kids. That Finnick knew he was going to have to get his hands dirty and he hadn't cared, not as long as he could get back home. Saying it like that, it seemed that he had had no remorse. The truth was, he just wanted to be free, prove what he knew and keep his head attached to his body, even if it meant killing. He had felt pride back then, now only disgust and shame remained.

He was trying as hard as he could, he really was. He was trying to occupy Mags's place just as efficiently, but it was an exhausting task and getting even the smallest sense of satisfaction seemed impossible. He had only returned to 4 with one boy in nine years, apart from Annie, of the eighteen tributes he had mentored to date. He couldn't understand how Mags had done it, or Haymitch, for example. Year after year he came back alone, over and over and over again. When they finished with dinner, he allowed himself the luxury of stretching out on the sofa in the dark to sip a beer, something unexpectedly rare in the Capitol. They preferred strange, refined wines, champagne, and drugs with the most ridiculous and dangerous effects one could imagine. It was completely crazy. Sometimes his life became too much, too big, too overwhelming, too brilliant, and felt trapped in a spiral of surrealism. Nothing was as he had imagined while they were announcing his name at the Arena, when he had won. He just wanted to stay at 4, by the sea, forever. Since he was trapped, the only thing he could do was curl up on the velvet sofa and forget the world. He wasn't even halfway through the beer when he drifted off to sleep. For one night there were no dreams starring Annie, nor his worst nightmares, unknown bodies he despised and then his own, forced to do so many things he was repulsed to remember.

He thought he had slept for hours, but when he woke up, his body fully rested, the living room was plunged into darkness and the digital clock read half past four. He stirred, drowsy, at a vague sound coming from the hallway. He got up and stood still, until he figured out what was happening. It seemed like a slight moan, or the hiccups that accompanied crying. He followed the sound, barefoot, until he stopped in front of the door from which it came.

"Estee," he called once, in a whisper. "Are you alright?"

The crying stopped, but she didn't respond. Finnick tried again and the door opened slowly. He couldn't see Estee's face clearly, though he could feel the tremor in her body.

"I'm sorry."

"What for?" He took a step forward and touched her arm carefully. "You can cry, you know? It's allowed. Come with me."

He released her and let her follow him into the living room, to sit her on one of the maroon sofas. Meanwhile, Finnick looked for someone who could bring the girl a valerian infusion and a ton of tissues as well, much as he hated to bother anyone that late. He decided it was best not to pressure her, so he dumped the warm beer and sat down a few feet from her. Estee was sitting on the couch, her knees drawn up to her chest, her face still red from crying.

"I want to see my mother one more time," the girl uttered, in a whisper that made his stomach drop.

Finnick looked at her silently. He recognized the vertigo one felt the days before the Games and he missed her mother, too, even then.

"My parents are teachers," she continued. "I was going to study too and follow in their footsteps, one day. I have never wanted to train for the Games. I didn't want to be like them."

Like him, Finnick corrected her in her mind. She was referring to the careers and he belonged to them too. It wasn't surprising that Robin hated him that much.

"You can do it, Estee," he encouraged her, and for once, he didn't have to fake it. He was convinced she had a chance. He had seen stranger things happening. "You're smart, you can adapt well. If you don't want…if you don't want to hurt anyone, defend yourself. Hide, watch."

The girl averted her glassy gaze and sniffed before turning back to him. He shouldn't even be encouraging her not to be violent. That was what they were supposed to do. Only protecting yourself was kind of a loophole.

"Did Katniss agree?"

Finnick nodded slightly. He had spoken to Haymich after seeing her, though he hadn't confessed that, and the girl had been quick to accept. The boy from 12 had too. Still, Finnick had a feeling he wouldn't last long enough to ally with anyone, and to be honest, he didn't have much to contribute to anyway. Robin, on the other hand, didn't want to participate.

"I don't know if I can do it. If we help each other and then it's over, how am I going to…?"

How was she going to kill her? How could she? Alliances were broken, after all. In the end there will be only one of them left.

"I know," he replied, swallowing. "I'm sorry, Estee. The rules are the rules."

Then he reached out to pat her on the shoulder, trying to give her some reassurance.

"Okay," she said, standing up after a long exhale. "It's not your fault. I'm going back to bed. I'm feeling… better. I just wanted to tell someone."

"Estee. I'll do everything I can to get you back home."

What he had told Katniss wasn't a lie. He truly wish she could do it, protect them all. He saw himself in their faces, he imagined what they would be like if they won and what might happen to them afterwards, considering what his life had become. If that girl won, that wouldn't be her fate. He couldn't let something like it happen to anyone else. When Estee left, he stretched out on the sofa again, since it was too early to do anything else, and ended up dozing off again. The first to wake up the next morning was Robin, who appeared in the living room before breakfast had been served, even before Finnick decided to get up.

"I know what I'm doing for individual assessment," he heard the boy say suddenly.

He was standing between the sofa and the screen, a slightly tired expression on his face.

"Good morning, Robin," he managed to wish him, getting up with a yawn.

"What are you doing there?" He asked him, confused.

Finnick shrugged.

"It's more comfortable than it seems. Well, what did you come up with?"

"I'm building some sort of shelter."

Stretching at last, he noticed Robin was clenching his fingers nervously. He was still wearing his pajamas, his hair half tousled. He seemed even smaller that way. Someone had had a rough night. Everyone, it seemed. Finnick stood up and put one arm around his shoulders.

"That's very good, Robin. It's useful."

Finnick tried to head for his own room, but Robin kept walking beside him as he crossed the hall.

"I'm sorry about what I said yesterday," he said, breathless, hastily. "I was angry and I took it out on you."

Finnick turned and improvised a tight smile. The boy's gaze jumped from his face to the wall, most likely embarrassed.

"It doesn't matter."

"Yes, it does! What happened to her was fucked up, she was your tribute, you helped her go home and she still didn't… Sorry."

"Hey, it's already forgotten, Robin. It's fine, but if it's that important for you...then I forgive you."

It was the least he could do for him. Being reminded of what had happened to Annie upset him, but he didn't want him to feel guilty just two days before leaving for the Arena.

"Everything is so…uncivilized," he said, regaining the energy that Finnick recognized as his. "I don't want to carry the burden of killing someone. I don't know how to do it and I won't."

Finnick nodded, surprised by his effusiveness. That boy was daring as hell and they couldn't take that away from him.

"I respect that."

"Fine."

As if that was all he needed to hear, he nodded slightly and left without another word. Finnick hated the individual assessment, the interviews on the last day... In general, everything that preceded the Games, almost more than the Games themselves, because they extended the tension and fear. He took it upon himself to accompany them to their test and before they knew it, the day had already passed and they were nervously waiting for their results in front of the television. They were lucky to be fourth, at least they didn't have to hold their breath for so long. Estee got an 8 and smiled with more happiness than Finnick had ever seen her expressed and Robin a 6 that forced him to insinuate a tiny grin. The smiles turned into stunned expressions, mixed with some admiration when it was 12's turn. Katniss Everdeen had landed an 11. An 11. Finnick leaned back against the couch, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

"Holy shit," he blurted out. What had a girl who wasn't even a career done to get such a high score?

"You haven't seen her train with anything specific, have you?" he asked Estee.

The girl shook her head, just as confused. That meant someone had a little secret. He immediately set out to discover everything he possibly could. He had always been very good at secrets, because people only saw his façade, they trusted a pretty face like his quite easily. However, Haymitch Abernathy was another story, because he knew the truth.

Although he didn't consider them to be that close, Finnick would've firmly stated he was one of the few people who understood what it was like to win the Games and having one's life destroyed in spite of it. He had nothing left, just like him. It was easy to guess where he would be when he wasn't busy mentoring. 12's winner wasn't into exclusive clubs and in the tributes' center there was only one bar, in addition to the rooms they would occupy when the Games began. Just as he had expected, he found him in a corner of the counter, when night had already fallen. At least the bar wasn't full so he wouldn't have to dodge the looks from people who had ever paid to spend a night with him. It was nauseating to be recognized for that.

"Haymitch," he greeted calmly, before taking the stool to his left.

He didn't seem too surprised to see him, and even patted him on the back.

"Odair. What are you drinking?"

"Beer."

"Too cheap for you. Don't you prefer pink gin or some shit like that?"

Finnick offered him the same crooked smile Haymitch was wearing with amusement.

"No, thanks. I'm here to say congratulations. Your girl…well, that's a score."

He almost snorted.

"Congratulations?" he repeated suspiciously. "Not being considered a disappointment for once is something, but now she's going to be eaten up by the careers."

"A score like that will attract a lot of sponsors too."

"Yeah, and now the others will decide they have to get rid of her first," Haymitch decided harshly. He was partly right. "I don't know if this alliance will turn out very well for you."

Finnick spun around on the stool, eyeing the tall, half-empty glass tables, calmly, but actually checking to see if they would be heard before leaning over to Haymitch.

"What does Katniss have? Knives? Axes? What is she good at?"

Haymitch shook his head.

"Do you honestly believe I'm going to tell you?"

"Aren't we allies?"

"Only up to a certain point, boy."

Finnick held his drink, holding back a slight smile. He would find out sooner or later.

"I think the odds are in our favor this time."

"Our?"

"Come on, Haymitch," he snapped back. "Look me in the eye and tell me she's like your other tributes."

Finnick wasn't stupid, nor was he delusional. 1 and 2 were the favorites, as always. Estee had the intelligence needed, but not Katniss's determination. Life in 12 had likely given her that.

"Well," Haymitch half grumbled, "they've never been given a 11 before."

"I imagined. Our boys are quite the opposite, aren't they?"

Maybe that's why they deserve to be saved, he told himself. He didn't have to measure and plan what he said to Haymitch, but he did have to be careful because of where they were. Haymitch raised his glass and grimaced after sipping.

"Alder won't make it pass the beginning."

Finnick had long stopped being impressed by how lightly they spoke about the lives of mere teenagers. It was heartbreaking.

"Robin isn't even going to try. Do you know what I'm beginning to see?"

He looked up. They had a music speaker above their heads, almost imperceptible, he knew it because he had been there a thousand times. He was also aware of where they kept the microphones. A rich guy from 1 who installed those things had told him about it after a night together. They might've installed more ever since, so he leaned closer to Haymitch's ear.

"It's like a pattern."

He didn't move.

"What is?"

"They no longer keep any hope. If you're not a career, you're a scared kid, we all know that. I see something else."

"They're pissed off," Haymitch muttered. Reading between the lines, Finnick interpreted he was too.

"Yes, of course. I meant the…system," he added carefully. When the rhythm of the song picked up he spoke again. "They don't want to accept it. Kids from 1 and 2 and many others have nothing to question, right? They don't ask themselves if all this is moral or not, they just see it as something that happens."

As he moved away from his face, he watched Haymitch's gaze scrutinizing him, torn between fear and a little longing. Turning, he adopted his carefree expression again. He was good. He was almost as good at faking it as he was, but he drank too much and sometimes he forgot to behave. Or maybe he did it on purpose.

"One day, all of this will blow up," Finnick said.

"If you say so."

"And we'll be here to see it."

"I hope you're not mistaken, boy," he said, raising his glass. "I'm getting old and I need to save someone. Just the one."

Finnick lifted his beer. Me too, he thought desperately. Me too.

Chapter Text

The first few interviews moved way too fast for Katniss's liking. The public roared with fervor, laughed and cheered their favorites. Caesar Flickerman was also more than capable to turn an out of place or gloomy comment around with his wit. Katniss crumpled the dress as she grabbed it, twisting it nervously. She had no choice but let them turn her into a show monkey for a few minutes.

"Chin up, sweeheart," Haymitch advised her as the boy from 11, Thresh, was finishing.

Effie was upset about her almost shooting the Gamemakers themselves with an arrow in her individual assessment, while Haymitch had found it hilarious. She had been given an 11, she couldn't comprehend how, but it had been granted. It would make her a target for the Careers, no doubt. It was better to be cautious, to have a 6 maybe, since it was an acceptable mark, and then take all of them by surprise, but she had let herself be carried away by rage upon discovering their indifference. Haymitch had hit the nail on the head without barely knowing her: her biggest flaw was that she let her emotions dominate her.

When it was her turn, she didn't even have time to freeze, she walked across the stage instead as if she were floating, inside a dream and that was happening to someone else. It was a feeling similar to the one she had had walking up when she announced she volunteered. She was almost by Caesar's side when she remembered Effie's advice and forced herself into a smile she hoped didn't look insincere. She couldn't listen to Caesar's first question, though she got over it by answering about the first outfit Cinna had designed for them, and she was even able to joke about not having burned alive. The new dress trick that day helped as well, with Katniss spinning around and around to show it off and the audience clapping wildly.

By the time the interview was over her feet were aching because of her heels, her heart was racing, and she had had to mention Prim at the end, which made her uneasy, but it was done. At least that part of the show was over, she could now breathe and get rid of all the tension accumulated in her body. She had Cinna to thank for his amazing work. Alder was somewhat clumsier and concise with his monosyllabic responses, but he too took a deep breath as he came out of the stage.

"Alright, kids," Haymitch said, walking up to the two of them. "We're reaching the end."

Alder looked down as he wrapped his arms around them, then turned to Katniss.

"The dress thing was cool. At least I didn't trip."

"Thank you," Katniss murmured, before smiling at him. Poor thing.

The hallway leading to the lobby was completely crowded with the tributes, mentors, and their teams. The atmosphere was almost festive, although, of course, it was only an event for those who weren't going to risk their necks. Katniss supposed they were meant to follow some order to get back to the lobby and up to their levels, but, making their way through other tributes, she watched the entire team from 4 arrive, with a grinning Finnick Odair leading the way.

"Well, if it isn't my favorite district," he announced, before giving Haymitch a friendly shake. "Nice dress, darling."

Katniss looked from him to her very feet, feeling her face burn. She wished someone like him complimented her wouldn't affect her so much, knowing he probably didn't really mean it. Luckily, Estee arrived just in time to save her from embarrassment.

"Hello," Katniss said, turning to her. "You've done well."

The girl smiled, almost enthusiastically, and looked at the bottom of her dress.

"Thank you. It's really beautiful, you know. The best thing out of all the interviews."

"You really need to rest tonight," she heard Finnick suddenly say to all four of them. "No skipping the sleeping pills you will be given today, okay?"

"Listen to Odair for this once," Haymitch agreed. "Tomorrow's the big day."

Robin grumbled and said he would, before approaching Alder and Estee, while Haymitch entertained himself talking to who most likely was 11's mentor. Beside him, Rue looked even younger in the little chiffon dress she had worn. It hurt Katniss to just look at her, so she moved on in silence, not entertaining herself with any more chatter. Or at least she tried.

"I bet you still won't trust our intentions," she heard Finnick say behind her, barely a whisper. "But if you have any faith left in the goodness of other people… help each other. She's a good girl. I'm hoping you're too."

From the way he barely turned his head to look at her, Katniss guessed he didn't want anyone else to hear him. The others were too engrossed to notice them, and besides, they were practically at the back of the queue. By now most of the Careers would already be in the elevator or on their levels.

"I'm not even your responsibility."

Finnick gave a lopsided smile, before raising his voice, as if he could forget now about being discreet.

"Lucky me. You would've driven me crazy," he replied, fixing her with an amused look. "I kind of pity Haymitch."

Katniss didn't say anything else, she just shook her head slightly and moved forward until she was back with Estee. It was going to be their turn in the elevator, so they all stopped in front of the door.

"We'll look for you inside," she informed the blonde girl.

No further explanations were needed. She couldn't say she promised, but she was going to try. The girl nodded.

"I'll do too."

Katniss could feel the watchful gaze of her mentors as they spoke, silently. Estee reached out and shook her hand first and then Alder's, who took a moment to react. The wait was short, and soon the elevator reached the fourth level. Just before it came to a stop Katniss began to feel the panic rise in her throat, as if the emptiness made her aware of reality: the night was ending and the next day could be her last on earth. She would end up allying and saving that girl, ignoring her or killing her.

"Good luck," Odair wished them as the doors opened. "See you."

See you? Katniss repeated to herself suspiciously. It was a way of saying it, of dancing around the harsh reality. Avoiding saying the word goodbye wouldn't change their fate. She wasn't going to answer with more than a polite nod, but the possibility of this being a last time prompted her to leave everything she could nicely tie up. After all, he was doing them a favor she didn't understand. 4 was too important an ally to be dismissed, too big to worry about some scrawny kids from 12.

"See you."

Back on their floor, Katniss only had a couple of resolutions left for her last night: eat all she could for dinner, with strawberries for dessert and a piece of that cake Finnick had shown her, and, most importantly, finish writing her letters, farewell letters for home in case she didn't return alive. Dinner was especially painful, with the replays on the screen as background noise, Effie looking down, with a sadness that almost seemed real, and Haymitch…Haymitch was staring at them for too long, as if he thought they were going to fade away at any moment. Katniss wouldn't have taken him for a sentimental one, now she had her doubts. As a final piece of advice, he advised them to run as quickly as possible, getting away from the Cornucopia and the potential bloodbath at the beginning. They had to find a source of water and, of course, stay alive afterwards.

"Katniss," Alder stopped her right before they parted ways for the night. "If we get separated, I guess there'll be nothing to do but... but if we see each other in there, I prefer it not to be you."

She frowned a little, trying to meet his eyes, but Alder seemed to refuse to let it happen.

"What do you mean?"

"Don't be the one to kill me, please."

Then he did look at her, half embarrassed, half terrified, his lower lip quivering exaggeratedly. Katniss put her hands on his shoulders and leaned in a little, ignoring the shiver that started on the back of her neck.

"Alder, listen to me. I'd never do that to you."

The boy crashed against her body in search of a comfort she also needed. At that moment it didn't matter, because he was crying inconsolably, he was far from his family and he was certain that he would die. It was the same for her, although she had a spark of hope, she found it thinking about Prim and her father, about everything she had learned thanks to them and the hard life she had had to endure. If she ran out of hope she would have nothing left.

"I don't want to die," Alder murmured, his face pressed against her shoulder.

"Me neither. I'm so sorry, Alder," Katniss replied, as if she could let him know that at least he wasn't the only one with the same fear. She let him vent a bit, then pulled away. "Hey, listen. Finnick Odair has a point. You better not think too much about it. You should rest."

The boy slowly pulled away, nodding.

"Yes, I should. Just…if you come back tell my parents and my brothers that I love them."

"I will, Alder. I promise."

She didn't get to know if he listened to her or not, because in the morning Katniss found herself alone with Cinna and Haymitch. She knew they would take her somewhere without her mentor, before entering the arena, so she seized the moment for the only favor she expected him to truly do.

"I've written letters," she informed him, handing him the small stack. "For my family, my friends and one for Alder, if he wins. There is also one for Cinna and for Odair."

The last one was very short, more like a note than a letter, but she wanted to thank him for her help. Being grateful was something her parents had taught her.

"That's a lot of letters. I didn't know you were a poet, Everdeen."

Katniss stared at him, but was actually comforted seeing that Haymitch continued to treat her like the days before and not as if she were a lamb on the way to the slaughterhouse.

"Give it to them."

"I will, but you won't need them," he said with a conviction that made Katniss's mouth drop. "Do what you do best and survive. You may be the first female winner from District 12, sweetheart."

"Thank you, Haymitch."

Her nerves began to accumulate in her stomach. That was it, the dreaded farewell. Both on the way to the hovercraft and after the tracking device was attached to her, Katniss couldn't stop thinking of the possibilities over and over again. What would the Arena be like? A desert, a group of islands? Or maybe a forest? The thought of coming across something familiar gave her a certain advantage.

Cinna letting her do her usual simple braid relaxed her somewhat. The outfit assigned to them was so much like a uniform, with long pants and a black jacket, Madge's pin tucked behind a lapel and a stout belt. The clothing wasn't too thin to freeze to death or too thick either. The halfway point had to mean good news. Her brown boots were similar to the ones she had at home, although they were more comfortable, so she would be able to run properly with them.

She wasn't able to speak anymore, but Katniss allowed herself to hold Cinna's hands for a moment. Meanwhile, he reminded her to listen to Haymitch and stay away from the Cornucopia, and that if he could, he would have bet on her. As a female voice rang out throughout the room, Katniss walked tentatively to the platform that would take her up to the Arena. The last thing she saw before the transparent cylinder moved her was Cinna tapping his chin, as if he wanted to tell her to keep her head up. The tube propelled her upwards, engulfed in deep darkness, but soon after an intense light nearly blinded her. The wind was whipping hard in her face, almost like the forest at 12. The air was also fresh as it had been on the prairie. Right at that moment, the voice of the presenter Claudius Templesmith resounded around her:

"Ladies and gentlemen, let the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games begin!"

Chapter Text

The Cornucopia, an enormous golden horn, shone in the center of the Arena, filled with food, water, weapons, and supplies of any kind, but Katniss only cared about two things. The first, that before them was a simple green plain, surrounded by a pine forest, so familiar that it almost scared her, and the second one, that inside the Cornucopia was a bow and arrows. The Gamemakers must’ve done it on purpose, because even if other tributes had also used it in training, none of them had shown the ability to actually need it. They knew she would go for it. Should she do it? She only had a minute to think about it. If Haymitch had been there, she would’ve told her not to do it under any circumstances. Katniss considered herself fast, she could get there before other tributes, but that would mean fighting and she didn't know if she could start attacking others having just entered the Arena. As the seconds ticked by, she decided she would run and grab whatever she could, even if it wasn't the bow, and then she would find Alder and Estee. As soon as the gong rang, she dashed off having time to pick up a backpack not so close to the center, which she had to fight over. As soon as one of the smaller boys, she believed it was the one from 9, grabbed it by the handles, she grabbed it from the other side, and their eyes met reflecting the same terror. Her panicked expression didn't even last, because the girl from 2, behind them, had already had time to catch some knives she threw at both of them. One killed the boy and the other hit the backpack squarely. Then, Katniss turned towards the woods and started running again, trying not to think about how the boy had fallen to the ground, lifeless. She didn’t have a bow, but she did have a backpack that would have something valuable inside and also a knife.

She didn't stop running until she reached the beginning of the forest, only then did she stop for a second, breathing hard, and looked back at the Cornucopia. After all, she had promised Estee she would find her. And where was Alder? In the distance, half the tributes were fighting in the Cornucopia and just as many were lying on the ground, dead. On the other side, beyond the horn, Katniss could only see a void, so she suspected there would be a slope or something similar. She turned back to the trees and then saw the girl she was waiting for running in front of her.

“Katniss!” she called out, with relief in her voice.

She looked both ways to make sure no one else was following them and came up to her, trotting. When the girl stopped, she lightly clung to her arms. She barely gave her time to slow down, but Katniss noticed her eyes were red and her cheeks wet.

“What’s wrong?”

"Robin…Robin is…" Though she paused, her stomach dropped nonetheless. Estee sucked in a breath, then spoke in a breathy voice. “You have blood on your face.”

“It’s not mine. The boy from 9,” Katniss replied, in a mumble.

None dared to say it, to pronounce the word death. Robin was dead, the boy from 9 was dead, and who knows how many others. Katniss swallowed and looked back at the trees.

"We'll be safer inside."

"I thought I saw water, like a lake," Estee told her. “Heading towards the Cornucopia, to the other side.”

That would explain the emptiness Katniss had seen in the distance, but it was the worst time to go through the center of the Arena again.

"We have to move on."

Estee nodded slightly, rubbed her eyes, then followed her. They both broke into a run, dodging the trees as best as they could until they were so far away that the prairie was unrecognizable. The run gradually turned into a brisk walk. Katniss wasn't tired yet, but they would have to save their strength in case they needed to run from any of the Careers. Although she had hardly noticed when she appeared, Estee had also taken something out of the Cornucopia. She had a bag slung over her shoulder, somewhat smaller than her backpack.

“What do you have there?”

"I’ve no idea," Estee replied, leaning against a tree to breathe. “I didn’t have time to look. And you?”

“I don’t know either.”

"We can stop for a moment. I think we are safe.”

Katniss wasn't so sure, but it did seem they were far away from everyone else. She couldn’t hear much more than the earth creaking with their own footsteps and the leaves of the trees shaking. She nodded a little and leaned next to Estee to remove her backpack. The girl opened her bag first.

"I have some bread," she said, while she was looking, "a piece of plastic to protect yourself and... a blanket."

She showed it with a slightly sad smile. Well, at least they wouldn't freeze to death on the first night, but they could die of thirst. It was what Katniss wanted most, water, it was their priority and another piece of advice Haymitch had given them. Although food was necessary, one could go days without it, it wasn’t possible to go on without water. Katniss opened her backpack. Apart from the knife that had almost gone through it, there was a tiny package of biscuits inside, some strips of meat, some matches, some rope, what looked like a rolled up sleeping bag, and a bottle. The two looked at each other, but once Katniss hastily unscrewed the lid, she felt disappointment wash over her. It was empty. Estee let out a breath next to her.

"Oh, no," she complained. “What do we do? Shall we walk a bit more? Maybe there's a river somewhere.”

"It'll be near the lake, but okay," Katniss replied, then resumed her pace, though more calmly. “We’ll hide for tonight. The best idea is to do it…up there.”

Estee raised her eyebrows as she looked up.

"In the branches?"

Katniss glanced around her. They had already moved from pines to stronger trees, some familiar and some she didn't recognize.

“In one that looks robust enough, don't worry. We can tie ourselves with my ropes to sleep.”

“Right.”

They walked until it almost began to get dark and followed Katniss's plan. They looked for a good tree to support their weight and sat with their backs against the trunk on a couple of branches that offered more security. Estee passed her a bread roll and Katniss handed out some of her meat strips. The food wasn't too bad, but her lips were already chapped.

"We need to find water tomorrow," she murmured to her.

“I know. And if we find the lake… what if the Careers are already there?”

Katniss glanced at her, silently, even though it was already so dark she could barely make out anything beyond the outline of her face. She knew what she meant. If they were really there, since it was the most reasonable decision, then they would have to fight. Or they would follow them if they saw them or who knows what. The nerves that arose in her stomach at the thought of it became worse when she heard the capitol anthem and saw the faces of the deceased. Eight less, only one they knew, poor Robin, but Alder wasn't among them. Katniss bit her lip. Where could he be? He must be scared to death.

"Estee," she called softly. “What happened to Robin?”

At first, she didn't say anything, though she heard her move her blanket. Katniss's sleeping bag looked warmer, but it wouldn't fit both of them.

"He barely ran when he left. He stood there, in the middle of the field. And then…that boy Cato showed up,” she sneered. “He snapped his neck like he was a doll.”

What could Katniss say to that? Nothing could replace him, nothing could justify it, no words. She wished she could have at least held Estee's hand and comforted her, but she was a little higher than she was.

“I’m so sorry.”

“He died in his own terms, didn't he?” the girl replied, her voice shaking. “He didn't want to hurt anyone.”

It offered some comfort, that he hadn't stopped being who he was. After agreeing they would try to find Alder the next day as well, Katniss tried to fall asleep, and forget the face of the fallen lighting up the sky, pretending she was at home, in the forest she knew like the back of her hand. Although she woke up twice, with some roughness of the trunk digging into her back, she rested more than expected. Estee, on the other hand, seemed tired judging by her pace, as well as her being so quiet. That was normal, as she was sure she was thinking about Robin's death. Walking beside her, Katniss remembered Finnick telling her to trust her. Well, one night had gone by and neither of them had killed each other, she hadn't tried to attack her or take her knife either. She supposed she could do it.

That was the end of the good news, because the second day was worse. They ran out of all the crackers; they were too salty and they couldn’t find their way to the lake anywhere. There was nothing but forest, small slopes and stones. Katniss thought she remembered how to get to the Cornucopia. Still, they didn't go that way. The logical thing was to skirt the forest and avoid going out into the meadow, where they would be an easy target.

“We could try with fruit,” she heard Estee say, a few steps behind. “They have some liquid. It's not water, but...”

Katniss frowned before turning around. When she saw the fruits that Estee was looking at, crouched by a bush, she nearly ran into her.

“Don’t touch that.”

Estee jumped at her, but she dropped the berries, as dark as they were dangerous.

“Those are toxic, believe me. It’s Nightlock.”

The girl nervously wiped her hands several times, as if she was afraid of getting intoxicated because she had touched them. She may have scared her too much, since she didn't stop to look around for food like she had, but that was okay. With just one bite she would be breathless on the ground, so she better be scared. As they didn’t find the way out to any river or lake, they had to sleep again high on a tree. That night there were no deaths to mourn, perhaps that's why Katniss felt they could relax for a moment, after a day without any benefit.
"What is 4 like?" she asked Estee, when the horizon was already beginning to lighten up the next morning.

She knew she was awake because she had seen her rubbing her eyes earlier.

"Very different from the Capitol," she whispered, leaning her head back and looking up. She looked tired or as if she also had a headache, just like Katniss had. She was so thirsty she almost couldn't feel her lips anymore. “You can see the sea from almost anywhere, and if you can’t, you’ll still smell it everywhere.”

Katniss nodded, though she had no idea what that feeling was like. The closest thing to the sea she had known was the lake back home her father had discovered for her, where he had taught her to swim.

"Are your parents fishermen?"

“No, they’re teachers. My older brother is though.” Then Estee smiled a little, as if the memory of them gave her strength. It was the only thing that made Katniss insist on walking every moment too, her family. “And yours?”

“My mother died a few years ago. My father is a miner, but he had an accident, so he doesn't work there anymore,” she explained.

She couldn't say they got by with hunting, their knowledge of plants and fruits and some home remedies he had learned from Katniss's mother and he could sell.

“Oh. I'm sorry. I've seen your pin,” she said, gesturing to her chest. “What is it?”

Katniss felt it under her clothes.

"My friend gave it to me. It's a Mockingjay.”

“I don't know what that is, but… I don't own anything that nice.”

Katniss suppressed the urge to say she could have it if she won. She would not have wanted anyone to be so hypocritical with her.

“It’s a bird that repeats what it hears. Sometimes if you sing to them they can take your song anywhere.”

That seemed to please Estee.

"It's a shame we can't make noise, then. I would’ve liked to hear you sing to one, I've never seen them.”

“Sing?” Katniss almost laughed. “No, I'm not good at it.”

Her father always said she was, but surely he only did because he was her father. Katniss began to untie herself. Now that it was daylight, they had to find water no matter what, they couldn't spend another moment like this or they would lose the little strength they had left. She wasn’t really hoping that Haymitch would send anything this soon, but Finnick could, perhaps. He wouldn’t let Estee die of thirst on her third day. She turned to tell her when she caught a glimpse in the distance that made her frown.

"Are you seeing that?” she asked aloud, causing the girl to turn around.

As she spoke to her, the light grew stronger, brighter, closer and closer to her. She didn't need to notice Estee's horrified expression to realize the light wasn’t a light, but a ball of fire flying straight at them.

Chapter Text

Nine

The fireball ended up destroying the trees to their right, setting the tops on fire just by passing by once. Katniss' first impulse was to move away, but she still had to untie herself. Estee, like her, was desperately pulling the strings.

"Come on!" she heard her yell, shaken.

When Katniss released her restraints, she didn't have time to think, or pick up anything, she just strapped her backpack and jumped. Her sleeping bag fell with her and she had to leave it there. It no longer mattered what she could save or not. Estee, on the other hand, fell to her side, bumped, and as Katniss helped her up, she gasped with pain. She could only glance at her sideways, but it seemed to her she had something stuck in her shoulder.

"We have to run," Katniss mumbled, with little strength.

All around her the branches were going down in flames, the smoke surrounded them and if they didn't hurry, they wouldn't only burn, but they would suffocate too. What was the reason for killing them like that? Why attack them directly and not let other tributes put on the show of capturing two girls? Maybe they were too far from the others, maybe they were bored because no one had died the day before, who knew.

They made their way more slowly than they should have, trying to dodge the next bursts of fire, though Katniss wasn't even sure where they were going because there was barely a thing to make out through all the smoke. Estee couldn't stop coughing, despite having almost her entire face covered with part of her jacket. They stumbled through the woods, clutching each other, forcing themselves to walk until the barrier of trees ended. The change was so abrupt they almost fell down the small slope they hit. Estee fell to her knees, as did Katniss beside her, realizing that her leg was burning more than she had realized before, as were her throat and her eyes. If someone showed up at that moment, they would be the easiest prey.

"Are you alright?" Katniss asked, when she was able to stop coughing and began to breathe.

The wound on her leg didn't look good, she was a little charred, but at least she could walk. Estee's shoulder, however, was worse, with blood as bright red as the flames they had left behind.

"I don't know," she heard her murmur. Then she inhaled and breathed several times until she was looking in front of her. She held out her hand to point at something and then she dropped it. "Didn't we want water? Here it is."

Katniss looked up. The sound of the water coming down the river was unmistakable. Going down the slope, just a few meters ahead of them, the river was coming down with all its might. Seeing the water sparkle made her want to cry. She thanked the heavens she still had the bottle. She felt her legs weak, especially the one that had been burned, and if Estee's shoulder hurt, she didn't say anything as they ran towards the water. It was fresh and so appetizing that they drank from their hands before thinking of refilling the bottle. She was about to open the backpack when some screams were heard on the opposite shore.

"Oh no," she heard Estee wail.

The pack of Careers appeared directly in front of them, smiling and trotting as if they were hiking in the woods and not fighting to death. The worst thing wasn't that they were so close to them, or that they had found them and could attack them from the other side. The worst thing was that one of the girls had a bow and arrows slung over her shoulder. They had her bow, Katniss thought with anger rising in her chest, the bow that was meant for her. She bet she wouldn't even know how to use it. By the time she looked away from them, without her having moved a bit, Estee was already on the shore, crouched.

"What are you doing, Katniss? Just jump!" the girl yelled at her.

Almost reluctantly, she followed suit and plunged into the water. The current was going fast, although not so fast they couldn't float and hold on to the stones and branches fallen by the banks. Estee kept looking back, towards the other shore, although from time to time she gave her a sidelong glance, as if she didn't understand how it was possible she hadn't already sunk. She didn't ask if she actually could swim and Katniss was thankful for that. She wasn't supposed to at all. While they focused on not being swept away and drowning, the other tributes followed their lead from the shore. One of them had even tried to hit them with his spear, but had barely made it past the middle of the river. The Gamemakers had offered them a gift, indeed, a poisoned one it was: water in exchange for a fight. If they didn't stop following them, that's what would happen, and they only had one simple knife, a pretty good one, but one. Would they give up or would they be patient enough to wait for them to stop fighting against the current?

A little ahead of her, Estee suddenly grabbed a branch wider than the others, stopping herself. As Katniss got to her side, she followed Cato and the others with her eyes. Her stomach turned uneasily. They didn't seem like the type to give up and if Estee was doing it already, they wouldn't stand a chance.

"You can't stop to..."

"What's that?" Estee interrupted.

Katniss spun around as the sound of the cannon rang out with a rumble that made her heart race. Estee was fine, she was next to her, and the Careers continued her stupid runs on the other side, like it was a real game. Why had the cannon sounded so close, then?

"You'll follow your friend!" Cato shouted in the distance, then burst out laughing. "I'm talking about you, 12!"

She didn't understand what he meant or what had made Estee stop until all the signs came together in her mind. There was something floating in the river, coming towards them, but she couldn't make out what it was. It was bigger than an animal and had the complexion of…a body. The cannon, Cato's comment. Your friend, Katniss repeated to herself. She noticed Estee try to slow her down before she even resumed swimming. Her leg burned and her arms ached from moving with the added weight of her backpack, but she couldn't stop.

Alder. The shape she couldn't distinguish was Alder's body. His name escaped from her lips with a torn scream, without her being able to stop it. She just wanted to get to him, to stop his body from wandering aimlessly down the river, to see him one last time before the hovercraft took him away. She was determined to make it to shore and face them if she had to. How dare they enjoy becoming such monsters? How dare they take the life of a boy with Alder's innocence?

Although she knew how to handle herself in the water, Estee was faster, of course. She knew what it was like to swim against the waves, for sure. She had only known the still waters of the lake.

"Katniss, stop!" she begged her, barely a couple of arm lengths away from her. "He's trying to provoke you."

She was so efficient, even hurt, that she reached her, grabbed her from behind, and pulled her back to the other side of the rivers. Katniss tried to wrestle her several times, consumed by the fury of seeing Alder's body move away from her, until she thought that if she hit her on the shoulder it would hurt her. That was the only thing that convinced her to stop.

The next few minutes passed in a haze that Katniss wouldn't even remember afterwards: the two of them getting out of the water, shivering from the cold, trying to take refuge back in the woods, before the Careers figured out a way to cross the river. Then she would do other things she would regret showing in public, because any camera could focus on them, like breaking down, crying for a long time while Estee hugged her and cried too, she didn't know if she did it for Alder, Robin, or for themselves too.

Sometime between late afternoon and nightfall, when they chose their tree for the night, two small parachutes appeared, their first two gifts, the only thing that made Katniss feel the hole in her stomach close a little. Finnick had sent Estee some cream for her burns, and while Katniss didn't think it would be much useful for the wound on her shoulder, it would do for one on her face and her own leg. Haymitch, on the other hand, surprised her with a huge bottle of water. When she saw it, Katniss felt like hitting herself. She had gotten so upset she hadn't even filled hers in the river.

"How's your shoulder?" she asked Estee.

"Not good, I think. I don't really feel it, or my arm. It's weird."

"I don't know what we can do," Katniss admitted.

"At least we have something for the burns. I'm sorry, Katniss," she added in a whisper, as she pulled her blanket over her, still a bit cold.

They had lost half of their things in the fire, like her sleeping bag and the rest of their food, and what was left was half wet from her trip down the river. The next day they had no choice but to build a trap with some branches and some pieces of wire that Katniss found in a pocket inside her backpack. Skinning him wasn't enough to calm the anger she still felt because of the Careers and also for having let herself be so devastated. Still, if sponsors were watching, they might as well forget the way she'd broken down the day before now she had proved she could hunt.

"How many of us are left?"

She had lost count, because she had refused to see Alder's face lighting up the sky along with the others who had fallen the other night.

"Half of us, I think," Estee answered, while she tried cook the rabbit's meat on the tiny fire they had lit. The matches had become useless.

So twelve, then… To have survived this long was already quite an achievement, but that wouldn't be enough. It wasn't enough to go home. She had to be the last one standing.

"When are we going to stop?" The question brought Katniss to a halt. "At what point are we supposed to stop helping each other? Because if it's just you and me... What would we do then? Because I'm not going to kill you."

A chill gave her goosebumps as she looked into Estee's eyes. She had dragged her away in the midst of her shock and if it weren't for her, Cato would surely have ended up killing her too. Maybe it was the hair blond like dry grass, or the way she insisted on helping her without wanting anything in return, but when she looked at Estee she reminded her a little of her sister and then of Madge. She couldn't watch anyone die again, much less her. She refused to do it.

"We could eat the berries we saw the other day," Katniss nearly spat out. "Then no one would win."

Estee gave a bitter laugh, but she meant it.

"I wish that were an option," she replied.

They ate all the rabbit they could use and decided that the next day they would follow the river again. It was risky, but they had almost no supplies and needed some weapons to defend themselves with. Katniss had an idea about it, like stealing the bow that should be hers from that girl. She was starting to think like Cato with his damn knife, she thought suddenly, with revulsion.

"I'll stay awake," she informed Estee, before settling down in the same place they'd slept the night before, "in case they come back for us."

"Are you sure?"

She nodded several times. She had to think, come up with some plan. Despite Estee's insistence to wake her up too in a couple of hours to keep watch too, Katniss didn't sleep more than a couple of nods. When she realized she had without telling her, it was already daylight. She stretched a little, careful not to push her and whispered her name so that she would wake up already.

"Estee."

She had her head cocked, leaning against the tree with all her hair in front of her face. Since Katniss couldn't see her properly, she shook her a little until she turned around. Her eyes were narrowed, as if she were half asleep, but she wasn't answering. What startled her was that her arm slipped to the side and she didn't even respond. At the same time her jacket slipped off her shoulder, revealing a suspiciously dark patch of skin, like a huge bruise spreading. Terror rose in her throat. Katniss reached out for her and tugged on her sleeve until she realized her entire arm was purple and her skin was cold. She froze on the spot until she understood what she was seeing. Her wound was no longer just that or a superficial burn, whatever had gone through her shoulder had caused a major infection and one of those that killed, her subconscious whispered. Estee didn't move, she didn't speak, she didn't respond. The inevitable happened though Katniss still hadn't been able to let go of her arm, because that would make it real, the death cannon reverberated around her and the girl felt her own heart stop as well: Robin, Alder, Estee. She knew one thing: out of them four, only she remained and she was next.

Chapter Text

The bed felt cold and Finnick couldn't sleep. He hadn't stopped getting up all night. Nothing worked: infusions, walks, not even a few push-ups to exhaust himself. He couldn't take any pills. He had long avoided everything that annulled his will because that brought back memories of horrible moments. He sat on the floor on top of the rug and rubbed his face several times. Estee was dead. Almost an entire day had gone by since the morning Katniss had found her next to her, lifeless, with half her body purple and her lips blue. Even if he had been smart enough to send her something for an infection and not a burn, he still wouldn't have saved her, not without some actual medical intervention. Or so he had been thinking all day to console himself. It was too quick a death, too stupid, how a single moment, a wound that shouldn't have been much of an obstacle had ended her in silence.

He didn't know what to do. It was too late to leave the building and too early to be hanging around. He didn't want to see the faces of the other mentors, especially the ones in 1 and 2, who would boast about how good their boys were, and he didn't feel ready to look at Haymitch either. He must've been on the verge of a heart attack, considering this was the first time any of his tributes had lasted as long as Katniss was. Where could she be now? Finnick hadn't lasted much longer in the room after seeing her shake Estee, calling out to her and standing in shock after, realizing she had left them. It was impossible to think of anything but the Games, and the truth was that his curiosity was just as powerful as his devastation, so he headed to the living room and looked up the day's summary on television. He advanced it until Katniss appeared, along with that girl from 11, who wasn't much, but silent and agile enough. That had helped her escape and hide well, which had much merit. He wasn't convinced that partnering with her was a good idea, not because they weren't useful for each other, but because he had the impression Katniss was going to watch yet another person die if she didn't first. No, she certainly wouldn't.

The girl, Rue, was also witty. She had called Katniss from the top of a tree, just above where the Careers were sleeping, to drop a tracker jacker nest hanging from one of the branches. The important task, that of cutting down the nest, was left to the girl from 12. She undoubtedly had reasons to want to see those boys suffer, enough to risk getting bitten too. Still, the decision implied showing a great courage.

"Bad idea," Finnick muttered, leaning forward on the sofa, so as not to miss any detail.

The nest did fall and the wasps went crazy when they touched the ground, so much so that two of the girls were so surrounded they died almost instantly. As if he had jinxed Katniss with his comment, she also wasn't spared from a couple of nasty looking bites on her hand and neck. Still, they didn't stop Katniss from stalking them until the other Careers fled. Why hadn't she left already? The cannons had sounded, they were dead. The girl descended from the tree, scratching her neck nonstop, and knelt next to the girl from 1, so swollen that she was impossible to recognize beyond her blond hair. Finnick shuddered, thinking of Katniss brushing Estee's hair out of her face to see what was wrong with her. He bit his lip hard and forced himself to keep looking.

He didn't know what she was looking for among her belongings that could be useful to her until he noticed how her face twisted as she reached for the arrows and bow that Glimmer carried. She had already taken the arrows, but she was inspecting the weapon with a disappointed frown. The rope was broken. The material seemed sturdy enough for something like that to happen and it was new, but it had undoubtedly been dislodged from its place, perhaps when the nest fell, or perhaps the girl had hit it while she was trying to get rid of the wasps. Katniss slammed it to the ground, scowling, and muttered something that sounded like an insult. Then, she started to walk away from there, although she was already reeling due to the bites she had received. Why was she acting like that?, Finnick thought, leaning back on the sofa. Any weapon was valuable there, true, but she had also gotten angry in the river when she saw the girl from 1 shoot, Estee had even had to pull her...

"Shit."

So it was that, he realized, the bow was what she secretly mastered. Now, she had to leave without her best chance to defend herself properly. After all, Finnick knew all too well what a difference attacking with the weapon you were familiar with made. His trident had been the most expensive gift in the history of the Games. It had been worth it then, because he lived, but the consequences it had brought him were not worth it. He would have preferred to die than have to give himself to strangers as he had until recently.

As soon as the repetition ended, Finnick went back to bed. The day he had just seen had already passed, but he hoped they were both safe. His jaw clenched at the thought. Why should he care? Robin hadn't even passed the first minute and Estee, who had had a chance, was gone. He no longer had tributes, he didn't have to worry about Katniss, or any of the others because it wasn't his job, right? For the rest of the day, he didn't bother to move again, even though he barely slept, he just waited until nightfall to turn the TV back on. Neither Rue nor Katniss appeared again all day, only once when Katniss was muttering in her sleep, probably unwell from the bites she had received. On the other hand, the Careers were making the Cornucopia their refuge and their storehouse for resources. By the time morning came, Finnick decided he had been moping enough.

Showing up in the room with the other mentors after losing his children was nothing new. He had had to put up with it many times, so why did it hurt so much this time? What the hell was he going to do now? He couldn't help but think of Haymitch and how he had told him he needed to save someone, even if it was just the one. He had no more tributes left, though… there was still something he could do about it. Even though the idea was quite dangerous itself, why fool himself? He didn't care if it was, he didn't care about what could happen to him because he had nothing else to lose. He only had himself and his dignity had been left behind years ago. When he arrived at the meeting room acting was easy, after all that was the only side of him they knew, the perfect Finnick Odair, despite the fact that each step his throat tightened a little more. He just had to show a small smile here and there, let them tell him it was a shame he had lost his tributes, and look for Haymitch like he didn't really mean to. Although he was not alone, no one was paying him much attention.

"Odair," he pronounced, surprised to see him appear. "I'm sorry, boy."

Finnick made his way between a couple of women with a wink they clearly loved, but when he sat down next to 12's mentor the smile had already faded from his face.

"Katniss is being very clever. Something new?"

Haymitch shook his head, before looking up at him.

"Your girl was too. She even talked some sense into Katniss, knowing how stubborn she is."

Finnick smiled slightly. At least her presence had been worth something and Katniss had listened to him too, for she had allied with Estee in the end without hesitation.

"Meet me in my room when the broadcast is over, okay?" he muttered to Haymitch, then cleared his throat covertly.

He made a funny face, but nodded. Finnick stood there for a while, chatted about how the bets were going, talked to people he knew, and had a couple of drinks, but nothing crazy. Getting information was never inconvenient, whether you were in the game or not, and neither did he want to appear too suspicious by not being seen for so many days in a row. He finished watching that day upstairs, alone, and when the anthem played, without any deaths, there was a quick knock against his door. Haymitch entered without even saying hello, although he didn't seem as angry as usual, nor did he reek of alcohol.

"How punctual," Finnick commented.

"I'm in a hurry, boy. I feel like sleeping," he protested, before following him into the living room. "What's this about, Odair? Another super secret meeting? They'll begin to think you're into me."

Finnick laughed, taking no offense. He knew Haymitch understood what his life was like, because the same thing had been done to him, or at least they had tried with different results. The list of people he trusted was short: Johanna Mason, Maggs, him and that was about it.

"I've slept with guys who were way worse than you." Haymitch gave him a sidelong glance as he sat down and he laughed again. "Sorry. Listen…I've been thinking about something."

"Is that why you haven't shown up for two days? I thought you would be...

Depressed? Devastated? Haymitch stopped short of saying it. Everything seemed too complicated now, but once he went home and had to face Robin and Estee's families, then it would be even worse. He couldn't think about it without shaking.

"Yeah, well, apart from that... how about having a real alliance?"

"What do you mean? You have no tributes left."

"Like you haven't ever helped Chaff sending one of his kids a damn bread roll for their last day on earth," Finnick replied, perhaps a little too harshly, because Haymitch just stared at him, silent. Finnick sighed. "No one here will listen to us. Aren't you tired of watching kids die? Yours, mine...all of them."

Haymitch frowned.

"Why do you think I drink, boy? Where are you going with this?"

Finnick fidgeted a little, nervously. How could he convince him?

"What Katniss said the other day about the berries, that then no one would have to win if they ate them... It seems to me her bravery could be seen as threatening."

"I know. Why would she even say that aloud? I told her to keep her thoughts to herself."

"I think she also suspects something."

Then Haymitch did seem more interested.

"About?"

"You really watch over your kids well, huh? She caught me talking to the wrong person one of the first days, she was walking around."

"Who did she see you with?"

"This judge. Some woman who wanted to be a client," Finnick added, in a whisper.

"Fuck. Has Snow called you again?"

The concern in his voice was noticeable, so much that Finnick was almost touched.

"No, he hasn't in two years." It was quite a miracle, he thought. "If your girl wins and she's the first girl to ever win in 12, that's going to be all they talk about. And she's pissed off."

"Very," Haymitch agreed.

"So, my point is, if what she is sent comes only from the two of us and not from some depraved, sicko..."

"She won't owe anyone anything when she gets out, correct?" Haymitch ventured. "If she does. And what is it you think she needs to win?"

Many things: courage, which she already had, not having any scruples, which was almost impossible, and…a good weapon. That was the only thing money could buy.

"I've seen the look on her face when she saw the bow the girl had. Don't take anyone's money, Haymitch. I have many friends who owe me favors. I know too much too, no one will know."

That was his offer, to truly help Katniss, even if he didn't have anyone inside any longer. He had told her on the rooftop that day, that she should go back home only because of her bravery and her sacrifice for her sister.

"You'll do that?" Haymitch asked, stunned.

"Why not? Maybe I want the winner to deserve it."

Haymitch paced the room for a moment, scratching his forehead, as if he were considering it, until he stopped in front of Finnick and patted him on the back.

"We should do this more often, Odair."

A smile made its way back to his face, while relief ran through his body. As dangerous as it was, it had been a long time since Finnick had felt so determined, or so revived. He needed a purpose and if his had already died with Estee, then he would create a new one. If Katniss won, her life wouldn't be like his, because no one deserved to go through that ever again.

"Maybe if you drank less, you'd come up with these things."

"Not a chance, boy," he teased, though afterwards he squeezed his shoulder hard, affectionately. "Hey, I appreciate that, but… are you sure, Finnick? If Snow finds out about any of this, we could be in big trouble."

Finnick shook his head slightly. He had been silent for a long time, knowing too much not to do something. He felt like he would use all he knew sooner or later, and this was a good start, a good deed.

"I'm sure if you're up for it."

Haymitch nodded, convinced.

"Of course. Let's screw the old geezer over."

Chapter Text

Katniss gulped down the water so quickly she almost choked, causing her to scold herself. She couldn't waste a drop of the water Haymitch had sent her, since she didn't know if she'd be back in the river anytime soon, or if the Careers were still there or had already had enough of chasing her. She looked to her right, where the little girl from 11, Rue, was sitting on a rock, giving her glances with those round, curious eyes. She was still keeping her distance from her, even though they had helped each other to take on those from the first districts.

"How long have I been sleeping?" Katniss asked. Her body was still weighing on her and her head was pounding, so she decided not to get up.

"Two days."

Katniss raised her eyebrows slightly. She thought it would've been a few hours or a day at the most, because now it seemed like daylight, but two whole days? No wonder she had had such long dreams, in which Prim, Gale, and even her mother appeared, smiling at her affectionately. They had been so real she would swear she had felt a slight caress on her cheek at some point. That must've been caused by the bites; either that or exhaustion was starting to take its toll on her.

"Do you want some water?," she asked the girl, handing her the bottle.

Rue shook her head.

"I've been drinking, there's a stream near," she explained, then got up and walked toward her, not seeming very sure of getting near. "I can heal that for you, if you want."

"How?"

Katniss recalled that her mother had some remedy for bites with some leaf, but no matter how much she thought about it, neither its name nor its appearance came to mind.

"I know a plant, I found it yesterday," she answered.

Then she sat down next to her and opened her backpack. Katniss wondered to herself how she had been able to catch something so large without getting hurt from the Cornucopia. Well, why was she surprised, taking into account how she had stolen Cato's knife during the training? She let Rue wrap the leaves around her bites, while she couldn't stop thinking about her the day before, searching for something to help her, for no reason at all. After all, she appeared to not have any bites so she wasn't doing it for herself. She remembered Estee asking her how long they would stay together, when they should separate so they wouldn't end up killing each other. She couldn't do that to herself again, but the more she looked at Rue, the more she thought of Prim...

"Do you have any food?" The girl asked, somewhat shyly, when she finished. "I only have a few nuts and berries left."

Katniss smiled at her a little, to let her see she didn't mind her question.

"I don't have anything else, but we can hunt."

It was the least she could do for her, after she'd watched over her for two days and healed her on top of it. She had lost her damn bow because of that girl and she only had the knife and some wire she could reuse to make more traps.

"How do you know so much about plants, do you also work in your district? You don't go to school?"

Rue gave a little shrug.

"I go when I can. When the harvest comes everyone has to work."

For a moment, Katniss found it strange to hear her talk about her life. She didn't know anything about what they did in the other districts, and surely the others didn't know anything about 12 either. Movements between districts were very rare, and she was sure that only the victors and some people with important jobs could travel, and even they needed special permissions. That suited the Capitol very well, having them all separated and blinded to the realities of their other compatriots.

"Do you work in the mines?"

"No, but my father did," she answered simply, because it was clear she couldn't explain why she was able to hunt when there were cameras following them everywhere. "It's ready now."

After setting up the trap, Katniss briefly explained how it worked. They could wait quietly in the bushes for a rabbit or other small animal to fall into it or…

"How far is that creek?"

"It took me almost no time to get there and back," Rue told her.

"Then let's go get more water in the meantime."

Maybe if they went far away and that small part of the forest was silent for a while, something would appear of its own accord. The truth was, Katniss wasn't just thinking about having more water to drink. She couldn't remember the last day she had washed, not taking how she had crossed the river with Estee into account, and the truth was that she was still covered in dirt and bits of leaves from the previous two days. The Games were no place to relax, but she didn't want to think about Alder, or Estee, or how Rue reminded her of Prim, how Prim herself would've suffered if she had been in her shoes. She just wanted to clear her head for a second, because, even if she had slept for two days, it had been two days of nightmares more than rest.

She washed with her clothes in the stream, without her boots and jacket and with her pants rolled up. If she got wet, it wouldn't be a problem either, because it was sunny and surely, she would dry well before nightfall. Then, she slathered on the burn cream she'd taken from Estee's things and braided her hair properly. Rue had only washed her arms and face a bit and, in the meantime, she had taken the berries out of her bag. As Katniss sat down next to her on the shore, the girl smiled at her. At least it seemed she was starting to trust her.

"Are you sure they can be eaten?"

Rue nodded vigorously.

"We have them at home."

From the looks of them, they seemed harmless, or at least they weren't ones Katniss could recognize as dangerous. Rue was a very smart girl. Like her, she knew how to hide and distinguish what she could collect from what she couldn't. She deserved as much as her or anyone else to come home. Yes, of course Haymitch was right about Katniss, she cared about others. She cared about what was fair, and this wasn't. She took a test bite of a berry and it tasted just as good as the berries Katniss picked in 12. Only then she let herself relax at last. Rue had taken all the things out of the bag so they could see what could be of use to them. She had some kind of tool, something like a sling made of rope, some spare socks and a small container to store water. She was also carrying a spiked rock she could use to cut things.

"I know it's not much," she said, as if she were embarrassed, "but I had to get out of the Cornucopia fast."

"Good choice," Katniss murmured, impressed with how well she had managed on her own at her age. "It's actually great, Rue."

"The Careers have entrenched themselves there, I've been spying on them," she said suddenly. "They are hoarding everything they have, the food too."

Katniss frowned, before getting to her feet.

"Really?"

"They haven't moved from there since we threw the nest at them."

It was an intelligent decision, because if they had everything they needed they didn't have to leave there unless they were interested in hunting some tribute down. Maybe that's why no one had gone after them to take revenge.

"I think we can go back now."

"Are you too tired? We can sit for a while."

Katniss looked at Rue and broke out a smile. She was just a child, she should ask her, not the other way around.

"I'm fine, let's go."

She felt somewhat better, cleaner and less tired, although she noticed she didn't have that much strength. Even after stuffing herself with food from the Capitol in the previous weeks, it hadn't helped to recover the kilos she needed to alleviate the difference between her and the other tributes. There, her bones were becoming more and more marked, even her hips. In addition, her legs were full of small bruises, cuts, bites and burns that remained, the worst being the one in her leg. Almost nothing. On the way to where they had left the trap, they managed to knock down a bird with Rue's slingshot and some random stone, so if they didn't get anything, at least they would have something to satisfy their hunger for a day. They would have to build a fire to cook it, but they could afford it if the Careers really were still far from them.

They had just returned to the exact place where they had been before, at the foot of the tree where they had slept, or so Katniss thought she remembered, when a soft whistle made its way through the trees. When she looked up, the parachute hurtling toward them seemed so large they had to take a few steps back to make room on the ground for it to fall.

"Do they send you stuff?" she heard Rue ask, amazed.

Katniss was so shocked she wasn't able to turn around to tell her this wasn't normal. She'd had only one thing all week: Haymitch's bottle of water, because the cream had been given to Estee, not her.

The bundle was an elongated rigid box, dark in color, and she had no clue what could be found inside. She hadn't asked for anything, nor was she as desperate as she had been with the water. Could it be a mistake? She didn't think the Capitol was capable of making one, but this didn't seem worthy of a girl from 12. Uncovering the box, her breath caught in her throat. Inside it, something she would not have expected even in her best dreams awaited: there was a bow and quiver full of arrows, as dark as the box, with a design so elegant that it even glowed. Katniss pulled it out with trembling hands, and Rue stepped closer, her mouth agape. How could Haymitch have afforded to buy her something like that? Either she was becoming more popular than she thought or he had gone crazy.

Katniss noticed that next to the bow was a small card with something written on it. With the bottle, Haymitch had just scribble "stay alive" and his initial, but this seemed like a complete sentence. When she picked up the card her pulse continued to falter. This one said: "I know it's not a Black Forest cake, but you might like it." There was no name at all, but she knew who it was from anyway. For some reason, she let out a laugh, though she felt her eyes water. Damn Finnick Odair and his stupid cakes and his way of insisting on saving her life.

She tucked the card into a jacket pocket, slung the arrows over her shoulder, caressed the bow, and smiled determinedly. She had made it through the first week at the Games, she was still alive and, most importantly, now she had a weapon to use.

Chapter Text

Rue was right, the Careers had taken over the Cornucopia and whatever else was useful to them. What they needed the most was the same thing the rest craved for: food and water, since they had plenty of weapons. Crouched among the trees, Katniss watched how different everything looked. Cato and the others were sitting under some awnings that served to block the sun, their suitcases and other packages of food piled up on a stack. They had made small mounds of soil around it, which she didn't quite know what they were for until she realized why they were so relaxed away from their belongings: there had to be mines all around. It meant Katniss would have to be careful not to blown up too, although that was exactly her intention, leaving them with nothing.

Rue and her had come up with a plan in little more than a day after she'd told her about it. While Katniss waited, Rue would light a fire in the forest to catch their attention and make them leave the Cornucopia. They guessed they surely wouldn't miss the chance to take down another tribute. In the meantime, she would attack them and Rue would hide until Katniss showed up again where they had agreed to meet. If they did it right they would be helpless, almost as helpless as they were, though now Katniss had a real chance with the bow.

A thread of smoke crossed the sky quite soon, just as they had planned. One of the boys, Katniss thought it was Marvel, from District 1, immediately raised his voice with concern after seeing it too. As he and two others bolted in its direction, Katniss smiled to herself. The plan was on, Rue had done her part and now it was her turn to do too. She moved carefully, hiding among the branches of the trees, and tried to think of how to avoid the explosives buried to prevent anyone from taking their supplies. She was looking at a boy they had left watching over everything when a quick movement distracted her. A girl appeared out of nowhere, running through the minefield. Katniss slowly rose to her feet amazed at the sight of her bouncing between one mound and another, as if she knew exactly how to dodge them. She took something with her and then ran behind the tent they had set up, leaving the boy who was in control utterly confused.

Katniss could try to imitate her, stepping exactly on where she had done, but it had been too fast, she wouldn't make it, most probably. She decided to stick to what they had agreed on and rose to her feet to grab her bow. She pulled the arrow and focused on the remaining items. Most would be too difficult to take down, so she aimed at the sack of apples on top of a briefcase. She looked both ways before shooting, and since no one was close enough to distinguish her, she moved a few steps forward. The string brushed against her lips before she released the arrow. Apples rolled with her well-aimed shot, a mine exploded with force, causing her to duck, then another followed and before she could even react, she ended up hitting herself too.

The last explosion had been so strong the wave had thrown her backwards before she had time to run. As she tried to breathe again, with a few pieces of she didn't know what falling around her, she couldn't stand, only sit up. Her head was spinning, but the incessant ringing that pierced her ear was even worse. She couldn't hear anything from both sides, only from one ear. She shook her head several times and looked up. No one had seen her, the bow and arrows were fine, but she had to crawl as best as she could into the bushes to hide. It had been too risky, she had succeeded and at the same time hurt herself too. Would it be worth it?

Before she walked off again into the depths of the forest, since she had to get to their agreed meeting point as soon as possible, before they discovered the fire, she heard Cato yelling at the boy:

"What the hell have you done?!"

Katniss didn't stick around to find out what happened to him, though as she was staggering through the trees she heard the sound of a cannon being shot away from her. She stopped for a second and caught her breath. Cato would have killed him for not paying attention, most likely. She clung tightly to a tree and studied where she stood, swallowing hard. After focusing for a while she found her way back, but Rue wasn't where they'd agreed, not too close to the fire to be caught. With the strength she had left she whistled as Rue had taught her. They needed a signal to warn each other, but only the birds imitated her, no girl carefully descended from a tree as she was expecting.

"Katniss!" she heard suddenly, in a heartrending cry.

As if she had been propelled, she forgot the pain she felt and ran without hesitation to the little girl's distress call. To her horror, Rue had walked right into some kind of trap and was entangled in a net covering her whole body. As she hurriedly pulled her knife she thought angrily that she had been stupid for thinking they were the only ones who could come up with a clever plan. Of course the Careers had their ways of defending themselves, too.

She already had the knife in her hand when she heard the cracking of some branches behind her and, turning her head, she saw Marvel approaching, spear in hand. Her heart raced, but that didn't stop her from reacting on pure instinct. While he moved Katniss drew the arrow and fired, not thinking at all. The arrow hit him right in the chest, though she didn't flinch, because as she turned to help Rue she realized that the spear that had passed over her head hadn't ended up missing. It hadn't been lost at all, but stood out on the girl's chest. Katniss finished freeing her from the net at a frantic pace, unable to control her trembling hands, nor her agitated breathing as she noticed Rue's disconcerted look.

"Rue..." she called for her weakly, with Katniss trying to hold her in her arms.

The girl looked at her with moist eyes.

"Have you destroyed it?" she asked.

"All of it," Katniss assured her.

"Good," she murmured in a small voice. "You have to win."

There was no cure for her wound, there was nothing Katniss could do at all, so she settled her as best as she could and caressed her cheek until she let out her last breath. The cannon sounded and Katniss closed her eyes, set her down carefully, and sat down next to her. The hovercraft would be arriving soon, she should be leaving now, but Rue's apparent calm face infuriated her. She couldn't pretend she was asleep, that she would be fine, that this too would pass. She was only a little girl. She deserved a childhood and growing up. However, she had arrived late. She was always too late with all of them. Her hands grabbed the first thing she could find to vent: a piece of grass that she tore up, then another and another. Only then did she notice the flowers around her. She paused to forget her anger and picked up a few small bouquets to arrange around Rue's body, tears rolling down her cheeks. She didn't deserve to be loaded onto a hovercraft like a dead animal, but to rest somewhere pretty.

Getting to her feet, she caught sight of Marvel out of the corner of her eye, a few feet away from her. She had forgotten about him, forgotten even about what she had done until she saw the glowing arrow deep in his chest, next to a huge stain of blood. She wiped the tears with her sleeves and held her breath for a second: she was the only one to blame, she had killed him. She gritted her teeth and collected herself. She couldn't get carried away by any of it now, there were only five or six tributes left if she was counting right, so she couldn't give up at this point. She picked his and Rue's backpack and thought about heading back to collect her belongings as well, before other Careers showed up looking for Marvel. When she reached the tree where they had sheltered the past nights, she took stock of what she had: her belongings and Rue's. Looking inside Marvel's backpack, she wasn't even surprised at how full it was: spearheads, knives, a flashlight, a first aid kit, water, and a packet of dried fruit. He didn't even know if she wanted to keep his things. After all, he had ended a girl's live without remorse, he was a murderer. Like she was now.

That night she couldn't sleep a wink, not after seeing Rue's face light up the sky, after Marvel's, the boy from 3 and another one. Besides, her hearing wouldn't let her rest well either. The stabbing pain wasn't the worst, but not hearing anything from her left side was, because clearly make her be at a disadvantage. She had to hunt, hunt to eat, and hunt to survive. The first thing was easy for a couple of days, but the second…she didn't know if she could do it. She had killed Marvel, yes, but it had been on self-defense, right? When on the second afternoon a terrible storm broke out, she decided she would go back into hiding. However, the trees no longer served her as much shelter. She was lucky to find a cave after searching and searching, next to the river, although by the time she was able to take refuge there she was already completely soaked. She was freezing to death as well. She could not stop chattering throughout the night, even inside her sleeping bag. That wouldn't be food for her hearing, she imagined. She would stay there for now, she had planted a trap at the entrance, so if someone discovered her, she would find out soon. What could they possible do to force her out? Try to burn her alive again? At least the pain in her leg was gone… What had she done to deserve that kind of hell? What had any of them done? By the third day, she realized she really needed to get out. She had to go to the Cornucopia and see if there was anything left, any trace of any medicine she might use, or if Haymitch could send her something useful if she left the cave.

The woods were suspiciously quiet in the direction of the Cornucopia, so she climbed up a tree to keep an eye out and wait for anyone to pass by. She was already beginning to think she would be up there until the end of the Games when a voice that she did not know began to shout loudly in the distance:

"Katniss!" she heard. "Katniss!"

It sounded looked like a girl, but not like that Foxface girl, who could be dead by now, so it had to be Clove. Oh please, not her.

"Do you think you can take down one of us? We are going to end you like we did with your little girl!"

What was she even doing, that lunatic, screaming her name out there? It could only mean there were fewer left than she thought. Last night she had fallen asleep before she had even heard the Capitol anthem. Katniss stretched out to peer through the branches. The girl was too far away to try to shoot her without drawing her attention and her leaving, but at least she was alone. She must have left Cato in the Cornucopia. Katniss wondered what would they do if they were forced to face each other.

Katniss prepared the bow from her position. Clove had tried to kill her once and she hadn't hesitated, so there could be no second attempt. She aimed carefully. Her stomach turned as Clove moved closer to where she stood. Could she really do it? She closed her eyes the instant she let the arrow fly. I'm sorry, Dad, she thought to herself, though he most likely wouldn't blame her for trying her best to come home. As soon as she fired, she heard a loud scream coming from the girl, but when she opened them she noticed she had only hit her in the leg. How was it possible that she had failed?, she thought, somehow irritated and relieved. She might not be sure if she really wanted to kill her, but she wasn't such a bad shooter to miss like that. She moved to another branch trying not to make too much noise and realized they weren't alone anymore. Running from somewhere, Thresh appeared. That must have made Clove turn and the reason why she hadn't shot her right in the head. The girl limped several times when she saw him appear and then fell backwards just as the boy lunged at her.

"This is for Rue!" Katniss heard him yell.

She froze as she watched him slam her head into the ground so many times she couldn't hear her scream anymore. She didn't move, she didn't even breathe. Luckily, Thresh didn't look up searching for her. Who was left besides the two of them? Just Cato, it seemed. Katniss slumped against the tree.

Just two more, two and she would be home. But how was she going to kill two people if she couldn't even kill one?

Chapter Text

When Katniss's head fell forward for the second time, she realized she was drifting off without meaning to. She couldn't afford to rest more than she was already doing, sitting against the tree, she couldn't even afford to close her eyes. She rubbed them hard and decided that, even if she were more exposed down there, she would at least stay focused and alert. She climbed down from the tree, holding onto the trunk and then jumped. Katniss waited after, just in case Cato was there to find her, though there was no sound at all around, not even a single bird flying away at the sound of her. She wasn't sure where she should head to. All she knew was that Thresh was dead, she had heard the cannon that afternoon, so it was just the two of them now. She could try to try to kill Cato from afar, if she were lucky enough, without having to actually fight, though it didn't seem probable. That boy meant nothing but trouble.

Katniss headed towards the Cornucopia, slowly, her bow always ready. Cato was most likely taking refuge there. It was best to catch him off guard, but what if he somehow managed to defend himself? What if he had more bombs or his sponsors had sent him some gift that would be useful to kill her? Her assumptions ceased to matter when a roar broke the deep silence. Katniss stood where she was, feeling a chill run down her spine. It didn't sound like any animal she could recognize, but she wasn't going to stick around to find out if she was right or not. She started to run immediately, though after a few minutes when the roars just kept getting louder, another figure came out of the trees. Katniss froze and got ready to shoot. It was Cato, running as if someone, or something, was going to catching. It was her chance. She thought nothing of it as she drew the arrow and fired, but her stomach dropped as she saw that even though she hit his chest squarely, the arrow bounced off like it was nothing.

Katniss didn't have any time to get angry, as Cato kept running in front of her and if she didn't stop him, they would end up hitting each other. The crash never happened because the creature chasing him jumped out onto the plain next to the Cornucopia. Katniss broke into a run again, Cato ahead of her. He was wearing some kind of armor that protected him, repelling her arrows, and now, on top of that, a herd of strange beings was chasing her too. She only looked back once, that was enough to see the horrible creatures that surely the Capitol had invented to torment them specifically.

They were some kind of huge wolves, mixed with some other animal, and eyes so strange they almost glowed. Katniss didn't turn around again, nor did she think about shooting Cato, she just wanted to stay alive a bit longer, but there was nowhere to take cover on the plain and the beasts would stop for nothing. As she tried to keep breathing, she thought she wouldn't last much longer. She had already been burned, attacked, stung and terrorized with the deaths of her friends. Either she died or she lived, but she wanted it to end now.

One of the beings quickened its pace so fast that Katniss felt their wild breaths almost on the back of her neck, so close that the animal bit the bottom of her pants. Luckily, the boots were too thick and Katniss picked up her pace as well to avoid the bite. She was afraid of losing the bow in her run, but the fear of dying was greater. Perhaps that was what helped her get to the Cornucopia. Just seconds before, Cato had started climbing it and was almost at the top. Her throat closed as she climbed. It would be better to face him than those beasts she didn't want to look at.

She didn't even have time to get to her feet on the roof of the Cornucopia when Cato lunged at her. She had one advantage, her weapon, for Cato was empty-handed. Even so, he was much stronger. With a single push he left her on the ground and they both rolled several times later until he managed to get on top of her. His body crushed her, and he did even more when he wrapped his hands around her neck. The only thing she could think of then was that if he continued like this he would easily suffocate her. She had already been through too much to lose now, like this, so agonizingly. She couldn't save her sister and then never come home. In a last burst of strength, Katniss managed to free one of her legs to hit him and lift his foot, hard enough for him to let go for a moment. She then pushed him forward. The first time she just tossed him aside, though when she caught her breath, she saw one of the mutts coming dangerously close to the edge where they stood. Katniss saw her opportunity arise. She rose, gasping for air, and pushed Cato, who was already up, over the edge.

Shaking with fear and due to how weak Cato had left her, almost breathless, Katniss leaned out to look across the meadow. The mutts kept scratching at the surface of the Cornucopia, though some of them were taking their toll on the boy. His piercing screams made her cover her ears. Katniss sat down on the surface, closing her eyes and covering her head, trying to suppress the noise, but it was impossible. When she came out of the shock she realized she only had two arrows left. The mutts would kill Cato, but she could end such a horrible death right now. The first arrow hit one of the beasts. The second hit his head. When the cannon blared it was as if time stood still, Katniss slumped against the metal, her braid all but undone and her pulse soaring. She couldn't even breathe, she just closed her eyes and heard the voice announce loudly:

"Ladies and Gentlemen, the winner of the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games: Katniss Everdeen!"

By the time the hovercraft picked her up, Katniss had already passed out. When she woke up, she didn't know how long after, the ceiling glowed with a soft bluish light. She had a pair of tubes attached to her arms and even though she was wearing nothing but a nightgown she wasn't cold at all. She felt clean, and even smelled good for the first time in weeks. Raising her head, she noticed she was in a half-empty room, on top of a stretcher.

"Calm down," she suddenly heard.

The voice made her sit up, though she calmed down when she saw that it was just Haymitch.

"I know you're in shock. You don't need to say anything."

Katniss sat up and watched the smile her mentor was beginning to crack. Had she really won? Was she really coming home? Tears threatened to cloud her eyes, as she ripped the tubes from her arms.

"I told you, sweetheart. You are a survivor and survivors always find the way to win."

Though he only held her shoulder affectionately, Katniss leaned in and gave her something similar to a hug.

"Thanks for the water," she murmured, feeling her voice still fail her. "And everything else… the bow…"

Haymitch nodded silently, as if he knew full well she didn't just have him to thank.

"Do you want to get up?"

Katniss took his arm and carefully stood up. As she walked she felt stronger, even though they immediately stopped in front of a mirror. When she looked at herself she was impressed with how changed she looked despite having been in the Arena for she didn't know how long.

"How many days was I there?" she asked Haymitch.

"Almost twenty."

Twenty. Twenty days that had seemed to last for a lifetime. Having Haymitch in front of her again made her think nothing had happened, but it certainly had. 23 boys had died, 2 she had killed herself, and as many people who could have been her friends would never grow old. Only her. She swallowed and continued to observe her current condition. Her leg wound had been properly healed, she hardly had any noticeable marks around her neck or any bites, not even bruises. However, when she put her hand to her ear she noticed there was something inside it.

"What's this?"

It was a small device, tiny, but inside her ear all the same.

"A hearing aid," Haymitch explained. "It seems you lost your hearing in the explosion. They couldn't reconstructed your ear anymore, it was too long ago, sorry."

Well, that was better than being without it. At the moment, she didn't even notice she was hearing better than before. She had a bit of a headache, but otherwise she was almost perfect, at least physically. As for what she felt… that was another story. She should be glad to be home, and she was, but she had this horrible feeling her life would never be the same, whether she wanted it to or not. What was she going to do now? Become a mentor and travel back to the Capitol with Haymitch every year? Would she endure what she had done to win? Would they see her in the same way at District 12? After all, she was the only one coming back.

"Haymitch… Alder, how did it happen?,"she asked, turning around. "I didn't even see him inside."

Her mentor sat down a few meters next to her and took a deep breath.

"He ran as I told him and found the river quite soon. He hid for a few days, he didn't do as bad as I thought," he admitted. "When he heard the professionals arrive that day…he got nervous, tried to escape and was unable to. Cato threw a knife at him as soon as he saw him and although he tried to get up and run... he fell into the river."

"Where was he stabbed?"

Haymitch made a face, as if he thought that was enough detail for her to hear. The damage was already done, so Katniss didn't care, she just wanted to know.

"In the stomach," he finally answered.

"So he drowned?"

That was worse, she imagined the anguish he would have gone through not being able to defend himself, not being able to do anything while he sank and continued hurting. His mentor seemed to give up.

"No, he didn't drown. He was already dead shortly after falling into the water. And you, how the hell can you swim?"

Katniss gave a little shrug, then reconsidered. If she asked him, it was because no one was listening.

"There's a lake in the woods," she murmured, just in case.

"At least you hid it well."

Katniss sat back on the stretcher and gave a tiny smile. She felt proud. She had listened to Haymitch, more or less, and this was a result of his job too. Meanwhile, Prim was still safe. That was all that mattered.

"And now what? What do we do?"

"Tomorrow is the party in your honor. Get ready to be the nicest girl on the planet. Then we'll all go home."

Not all of them, Katniss thought, but she would do everything possible so that the memory of those they had lost never died like they had.

Chapter Text

The yellow dress, despite its sheen and how it made waves when she moved even slightly, was the simplest thing Cinna had designed for her. If it weren't for the unusual color, it might even have been a dress she could own. It was possible now that she no longer had to attract so much attention, she reflected as she looked at herself in the mirror, since she had already won.

"Do you like it?"

Katniss nodded, looking at him in the reflection of the mirror.

"It's very comfortable."

And more than comfortable, it didn't make her feel like she was some stranger masquerading as something she actually wasn't.

"We'll let your hair down today."

Cinna rearranged her long hair, which was styled in soft waves that looked like hers, almost untouched. Her makeup could also go unnoticed, in neutral colors, even in the nail polish, and shoes with tiny heels. Her appearance was in striking contrast to hers before the Games and even more so to how she had been after. There was no trace of the bruised, tired, and angry girl who had walked out of the Arena. She supposed that was the image Haymitch wanted to present to the world as well: a disadvantaged young woman who had been transformed. It had only been possible thanks to the opportunity to succeed the Capitol had given her.

"Everything will be fine, Katniss," Cinna encouraged her, taking her nervousness away. "You'll go home tomorrow."

"Thank you, Cinna," she murmured, giving him one last hug. "For everything."

He had supported her at all times, had made her shine and respected her wishes to the best of his ability. And all without treating her with the disdain and artificiality Katniss would have expected from a Capitol employee. The rest of the prep team had been just as happy to see her again, alive, but there was something about Cinna's measured smile that told her he was truly sorry for what had happened.

Leaving the room, she met with her mentor. The interview was the first thing, then she would be crowned by President Snow, and lastly, the dinner and party in her honor would take place. The idea of celebrating her going back home would have been a something to enjoy if it weren't for the fact many other kids never would.

"Remember what you have to do," Haymitch warned her quietly as they headed for the car that would take them to the presidential mansion. "They can't stand being laughed at and you've already threatened them with your little arrow before the Games started, talked about committing suicide on television, mourned Rue..."

Katniss swallowed. Put like that, none of it sounded sensible at all. The berries thing had just been an angry comment that had slipped out when Estee asked her what they would do if the two of them faced each other. "We could eat the berries we saw the other day. Then no one would win", she recalled. She didn't think it was important enough to be broadcast. Clearly, she was mistaken.

"I have done it to honor my district, yes, I know. And for my sister, am I allowed to say that?"

"The people in the Capitol will like it," Haymitch agreed. "A story of sacrifice being rewarded. Be very careful, Katniss. You don't want to upset the wrong person and especially not Snow."

"Why?"

Haymitch stopped, frowning clearly.

"What do you mean, why? Because he's the president. Isn't that enough?"

Sure, but there was something else she was worried about. There was something they weren't telling her, she suspected it since she had met Finnick Odair discuss she didn't know what in secret. Later, other things had seemed suspicious: Haymitch's little act on Harvest Day, his warnings…

"Yes, but there's something else. One of the first days, I accidentally went down to the entrance and…"

"I know what you're going to say, girl," he interrupted. "You're clearly out of your mind."

"Did he tell you?" Haymitch nodded. "What was it all about? And don't lie to me, I'm not an idiot."

He looked up and down the hall before answering, his tone serious enough to chill Katniss.

"You'll have to ask him. But if you want a reason to pretend how delighted you are… remember that everything will be taken from you if you don't behave as expected. Do you know my family?"

"No."

"Do you know why you don't? Because they took them from me," he added in an angry whisper. "Because I didn't behave as I should've, for not doing anything they asked me to. We're all slaves here, the winners, the losers…Everyone has an owner."

What was that supposed to mean? That they had been killed because of him? Katniss was so numb she didn't know what to say. So, what was the point of winning the Games, then?

"And what can they ask of me?"

"Let's hope they never want anything. Understood?"

The way he grabbed her arm, combined with the fear she recognized in his eyes, scared her so much she could only nod her head several times. She just wanted the night to pass quickly, get on the train and return home, though if Haymitch was right, then it didn't matter if she had won: she was one of Snow's captives for the rest of her life. Actually, they always were. After all, they were subject to the Games, either oneself or your loved ones, immersed in a cycle that never ended. However, what she thought was his escape, the victory, was only an illusion.

The only thing she had in mind when she arrived at the stage they had set up in the presidential mansion was Haymitch's serious tone urging her to lie. Caesar Flickerman waved to the audience as the hymn boomed around her. Every step Katniss took to the seat next to him felt like torture. Not only did she have to think about what she would say, if she could even think of something that would prevent her from sitting with a dull face in uncomfortable silence, now she also had to keep track of her gestures, a smile that did not exist... All while considering if something she could say would have an impact on those who were waiting for her at home. The audience was packed, with a crowd that hadn't stopped applauding since they saw her appear. Before beginning they also introduced her team, Haymitch and Effie.

"Congratulations, Katniss," Caesar wished her, "how are you feeling?"

"A little nervous about the interview," she answered, with a shy smile that at least seemed innocent.

"Don't worry, we're going to have a great time tonight," he said looking at the audience, causing them to scream with excitement. "We can't start without checking your best moments in the Arena first. Let's see them!"

Before she could process it, because, to be honest, what psychopath would want to relive something like that?, they were already broadcasting footage of the Games on the giant screen. They started with her in the platform, then in the woods with Estee, then Rue, her crossing the river, her suffering and killing Cato at the end, among other moments. Although she had lived it, when observing it from the outside it seemed as if it were another person, another life, something alien to her. Despite the fact that all she wanted to do was yell at them that they had no idea what she had done to make them content, she chose to remain serious, without being too afflicted.

"Katniss, I know you've suffered a lot to win, right?" Caesar asked, grabbing her hand.

"It's been hard," she admitted, lowering her gaze.

"When you were in there, did you imagine yourself here, about to be crowned victor?"

She smiled slightly.

"Always. Isn't that what we all want?"

Some people shouted from the audience.

"Of course. I have to ask you. You've lost some of your allies in such painful ways…what was on your mind then? How did you go ahead?"

Katniss paused before answering, she couldn't screw up now.

"I just wanted…I just wanted to save Prim," she answered in the end, with a sad tone that wasn't faked. "I hope she is proud of her sister. I'm looking forward to seeing her."

"Sure she is, just like all of us. Right, folks?"

After another roar from the audience, the anthem was played again. They got up, accompanied by the cameras, as they had to follow her going outside. From the balcony of the mansion the whole world would see her being crowned by the president. If she had thought there were too many people on the set, in the rest of the mansion and in the garden, where they would later celebrate, there were more guests. Everything was overloaded, with the decoration everywhere, the lights, the flashes and the shouts of the people who did not want to miss any of her movements. By the time she reached the balcony and recognized President Snow's face under the spotlights, Katniss felt she would fall at any moment due to the pressure, but she couldn't show it, nor did she want to. She walked decisively and stood in the exact place she had been indicated. She looked straight ahead seriously and waited for the president to arrive, accompanied by a girl carrying the crown.

He was shorter than he appeared on the screens, but his gaze was much crueler. He had barely stopped in front of her, but Katniss noticed the strong scent of roses he gave off as he walked.

"Miss Everdeen," she greeted solemnly, "congratulations."

"Thank you, sir," she murmured, still looking into his eyes.

He placed the crown on top of her hair and smiled at her in a way that nearly froze her.

"An unexpected victory. Quite a surprise for a young lady like you. They must be very proud in your district."

As he pushed away from her side and waved to the crowd, among the shouts at him and the girl on fire, Katniss continued speaking, her lips barely breaking.

"I hope so, sir," she said, trying to sound convincing. "It's the only thing I want."

The president looked at her one last time, with a tiny nod and something that resembled a smirk, and then walked off the balcony ahead of her. She followed him, barely able to move, for the crown was heavy, and she found herself facing Haymitch.

"How was I?"

"Very good, very well played. Let's get something to eat, don't go overboard with the drinks, okay?," she advised him, as they descended the stairs.

Until she reached the tables with the food, dozens of strangers stopped her to congratulate her, others tried to touch her, to which Haymitch reacted by moving the hands away from her as she passed. She was only able to take a few bites of the canapés, because after learning they were eating and making themselves vomit to taste every dish, she lost her appetite. At least she couldn't see the president anywhere anymore, among the guests, the loud music, and the wild laughter. She was trying to get rid of some of Effie's friends, when a familiar voice appeared behind her.

"Congratulations," said the unmistakable voice of Finnick Odair in her ear. "Smile a little, Katniss. You're still alive."

Thanks to you, she thought to herself before turning around. There he was, with her classic smile and a pristine white shirt that further highlighted his tan, and the gold in his hair. It was incredible to think that someone like that had changed the direction of her life so drastically.

"A drink for the winner!," he yelled suddenly, only to have someone appear with some champagne. When he handed it over, he leaned into her. "Follow me behind in a couple of minutes."

She didn't even know which way to go to the back of the garden, but it would be nice to get away from the noise for a moment. Besides, the least she could do was to truly thank him. Somehow, she managed to slip away without being followed, maybe they were too drunk already to care about where she was going. The garden was neatly mowed, and after passing a couple of stone benches, she found him sitting, waiting.

"Hello, Finnick."

"The winner, at last. There's still a lot of the night ahead, I advise you to cheer up a bit."

Did she have a reason to do it? Katniss sat down next to him, putting down the glass she hadn't even touched.

"Haymitch already gave me the talk on how to behave, I don't need you to repeat it."

In the darkness, Finnick took a sip from his glass and glanced at her sideways, his face more serious than a second ago.

"There's a lot at stake, you know. It is not about what may happen to you. It's about your family, even your friends."

Katniss felt her stomach drop. She didn't know if she wanted to hear it.

"I'm sorry, I'm just…I'm exhausted. I just want to go home," she sighed, he could understand that, surely, after all he had already been through the same thing. "That's what happened to Haymitch and his family, isn't it? He hasn't told me much, actually."

Finnick was silent for so long after Katniss spoke, she feared she had screwed up and said something wrong.

"Yeah. The same thing that happened to me," he said quietly, not looking at her. "Because I refused many times."

"You refused what?"

"To be sold."

She felt him breathing heavily next to her, though she was still puzzled.

"I don't understand you."

"And I hope you never do, Katniss. Look, I just want to warn you, not scare you, okay? When…when they consider you desirable, they offer you to the highest bidder. Your opinion is worthless, they don't even care that you won."

"Desirable," Katniss repeated, beginning to feel like they were speaking a different language. "What…what are you talking about?"

Plunged into a deep silence, discomfort rose up her spine. When she looked at Finnick, she saw his lips purse in a very weird way.

"Your body," he replied grimly. "That's what I'm talking about."

"Your body?"

There was a sound of someone passing nearby, causing Finnick to get up quickly. Then he turned around, covering her, and drank again. Katniss supposed the last thing she needed was for them to be recognized talking in the dark, but she was so stunned she didn't even think about it.

"My trident was the most expensive gift they've ever sent, it still is," he explained, once the people had moved away. "It had a price in return and it was not money I gave in its place."

Something in Katniss's mind clicked upon hearing it and she was transported back to 12. She knew many girls, unfortunately, some still kids, who sold themselves to the old Cray in exchange for some money to eat. Finnick, who kept being portrayed as a heartthrob…was that what they made him do? It couldn't be out of necessity.

"Finnick... That's... that's disgusting," she stammered. "I'm sorry. I'm very sorry."

She didn't know what to do but squeeze his hand a little, embarrassed, until he returned her gesture. What could she say to something like that? Was this what Haymitch was so afraid would happen to her?

"It's over for me," he said, exhaling deeply. "It's gross, but people liked me better when I was a minor."

Katniss had to hold on tight to the bench. Suddenly, her yellow dress seemed too thin and the air chilled her.

"I think I'm going to throw up," she murmured.

"It's not going to happen to you, Katniss."

He said it with such confidence she wanted to shout, ask him how he was so sure, but she shut her mouth. He had must been through such a horrific time… and he had saved her life for no reason.

"You have to be an exemplary winner. Be grateful, act as much as you can," he advised. "Haymitch will find a way to not introduce you as someone like me, someone familiar, the pride of 12, its first female victor or something."

Her breath caught in her throat. What did it all mean? That they were planning to protect her from a danger she hadn't been aware of until this very moment? They barely knew her, much less Finnick.

"You don't have to. Why have you done all this…why are you telling me? You've already saved me."

For a moment, Katniss caught a glimpse of a smile on his face.

"I would've liked to save myself. I would've liked to take Estee and Robin back home. It's impossible, but we can save you."

"That bow saved me," she admitted. That was the whole truth. "I already owe you, for life."

"Didn't you hear me? You don't owe anybody nothing because Haymitch has worked hard to be there and I got to support him, okay? Besides, what are you talking about, a debt for a lifetime? Do you like me that much, Everdeen?"

Katniss gave a slight smile. She preferred to see him like this, joking, even if it was at her expense.

"Shut up," she protested, trying to contain herself. "I'm being serious."

"Me too, you don't owe me anything, really." Then he stood up and reached into his pants' pocket. "I have another thing for you. Letters aren't safe, and neither are phones, so never say anything that might sound suspicious. Even so... if you want to talk, or if you think of how to pay me for that huge debt you have with me..."

He handed her a tiny piece of paper which Katniss took without hesitation. The string of numbers meant nothing to her.

"But I don't even have a phone."

"You'll have one. Let's go back before someone misses you."

She let him go a little ahead and then followed him, but around the corner, when she was already hearing the music again, she decided she hadn't said everything she had to and took a little run.

"Finnick," she stopped him, trying not to raise her voice too loud. "You aren't like I thought you would be."

"Thank goodness," he replied, smiling. "Have a good trip back home, Katniss."

It was the first time he had called her by her name.

Chapter Text

Her new house, more than a house, looked like a palace. It was made of stone, clad in some strong material, like a minature version of the presidential mansion. It was the same as Haymitch's, in fact, it was opposite his, right next to Michael Elwood's and surrounded by the rest of houses that remained empty. Her old house was but a shack compared to this one. Now she could even have her own room, no longer sharing with Prim. No more creaking floors, narrowly spaced rooms, leaks, and a porch barely standing by itself. It was a good change, but that didn't stop her from feeling a hole opening up in her stomach at the thought of how she'd obtained it. Katniss pulled back the curtain in the window and leaned out to watch the path to her house, not noticing a single movement.

"Who are you waiting for?", she heard her father ask behind her back.

"Haymitch has some of my stuff."

She didn't even know if he had kept it or no. What she was missing were just the letters she had written in case she didn't come home, now they didn't even matter anymore, but among them she hoped there would be the one Alder had written to his family. She hadn't seen them at the reception they had given her just two days before and she supposed it was better that way. Thinking about going to his house to give them his last words made her tremble, but it was what she had to do, it was what Alder had asked her and she wasn't going to break her promise.

Katniss turned and looked first at her father searching through a couple of boxes, then at Prim, snuggled up with Buttercup in an armchair at their new spacious living room. It wasn't even the only one, since the house had another dining room in addition to the kitchen and another small room on the top floor that looked like an office. It was far more than they would ever need to live on, maybe even bigger than Madge's house. The proof were the few belongings they had taken from their house: the cat, all their clothes and some photos and objects belonging to her mother. When she was about to sit next to her sister, she heard a couple of knocks on the door. For the moment, Haymitch didn't seem the least bit drunk, just tired. Maybe it was because it was too early, or maybe having brought someone back alive had made him happy enough that he didn't have to drown his sorrows.

"Hello, sweetheart," he greeted her. "Benton."

"Good morning."

He immediately handed her a small stack of envelopes which Katniss took with relief. She would get rid of them soon, once she had found Alder's letter.

"Well, what do you think of the house?"

"It's a little empty," her father said.

"It's huge," Katniss added.

They had left them a catalog to decorate and furnish the house to their liking, so she would probably look at it with Prim to distract her, even if she did not want to ask for anything. She had cried like a little girl when she met her again and the first night they had ended up in the same bed, as they used to sleep back at home. Not everything hurt as much as Katniss had imagined. They could invite the Hawthornes for lunch or dinner whenever they wanted now, they had given her far more money than she expected and supplies for her District that would last the whole year. At least the people of the Seam wouldn't have to ask for so much food and there would be less chances of them dying in the Games. They were all going to benefit from what she had done, wrong or not. At least if she continued acting carefully…

"Shouldn't we go to the kitchen?" Haymitch asked suddenly. "Do you have something to drink?"

Her father turned to her while Katniss gave her mentor a stern look.

"No alcohol, Haymitch."

He rolled his eyes.

"I was thinking about a cup of coffee. Benton, can I ask you something?"

Before his father could react, Haymitch was already leaning into his ear. What was up with him now?

"Yes, of course. We have some," his father replied, though Katniss was sure that wasn't what they were whispering about.

They headed into the pristine white kitchen and Katniss's doubts were dispelled when she saw her father take out some paper and a pencil for Haymitch to write on. "Be careful what you say. You have microphones in the house and you have to look for them NOW."

Her father's eyes widened in panic for a second, but surprise quickly turned into a scowl identical to her own.

"I'll get you a cup and then we'll show you the rest, if you want" Katniss spoke. They needed some excuse if they were really listening.

They followed Haymitch's scribbled instructions: to look inside the lamps, along the shelves and under the tables until they found a pair of tiny microphones on each floor, plus another in the office. "Leave two. Don't let them get suspicious," he advised them. In the end, they settled on one in the upstairs hallway and one in the office, where they were less likely to talk about anything suspicious or compromising. That way they would always hear something while moving up and down, and wouldn't question it even if the rest didn't work as they should. At least in the room that would now be Katniss's there was none, or they weren't able to find one. She still hadn't sorted anything out of her few boxes, not even the clothes. They were about to leave the room when she saw Haymitch walking near the nightstand, eyeing the mockingjay pin, which she'd been able to bring home intact, luckily. Almost like her.

"I couldn't ask you there. Where did you get that?"

"Madge gave it to me. She's the mayor's daughter."

"I know that," Haymitch told her. "This belonged to her aunt, did you know?"

No, I didn't know that, Katniss thought.

"She and Madge's mother were twins," she remembered. "Mom was friends with both of them."

"She was called Maysilee," her father pointed out. "I do remember her well."

"She was at the Games with me," Haymitch spoke suddenly, after caressing the pin with a care that was much unlike him. Katniss and her father looked at each other in silence.

"What happened to her?"

"We were twice as many tributes, because of the Quarter Quell. You could say she was my…Estee, my Rue. She was killed by a flock of birds."

In horror, Katniss looked at the mockingjay and then at her father. What cruel and ironic ways fate had to take your life from you.

"That's terrible."

Haymitch put the pin back on the table, exhaled sharply, and headed for the door.

"I have something else for you," he announced, as they followed him down the stairs. "It's in the entrance, I wasn't sure you would want to keep it."

What was he referring to? She couldn't figure out what he was talking about until she made out the long black box that had given her so much, leaning against the front of the house. The bow. It had offered her hope, above all, and also a chance to live, to be honest.

"Yes," she answered almost without thinking. "Yes, I do."

"You don't have to hunt anymore," his mentor murmured.

They both exchanged a look, while his father still reached them. That was not the reason to keep it and they both knew it perfectly.

"I didn't know you had brought it."

"And this," he told her.

Katniss took the paper, trying not to react when she realized it was the note Finnick had sent her with the bow. She folded it and put it in her pocket as soon as she recognise it. She was grateful that Haymitch wasn't laughing at her, not making fun of what it had meant for her, he certainly understood that.

"See you."

"Thank you, Haymitch."

He didn't say anything else, just waved at them as he walked away. Her father closed the door behind the two of them and Katniss carried the box inside.

"We don't have to be so careful down here. You can say it."

Her father leaned on the cane until they reached the kitchen.

"What?"

"That I shouldn't keep it."

He looked at her for a moment, shaking his head a little.

"Why would I say that?"

Katniss entertained herself opening the box and unwrapping the bow, as elegant and shiny as the first day she had seen it to let him hold it.

"It doesn't look like mine," his father commented.

Not at all, and that also made her feel more torn.

"I hate it and it still reminds me that…"

"It saved your life," he completed.

"Yeah."

"Do you know the sponsor who sent it to you? That note isn't from Haymitch, is it?"

How could he never miss anything? Katniss set the bow down on the counter and glanced at the box out of the corner of her eye. She still hadn't had time to write down Finnick's number but she kept it safe and she did have a phone, right in that room.

She only had two options: lie to him or be honest. The lie would protect him, but who wanted to protect whom more? She couldn't hide that much from her father and she was certain he was only asking because his concern was killing him. She would tell him the rest in due time, when she was ready to talk about it, now she just wanted to rest with the two of them.

"I actually know, yes."

"It must have been very expensive."

She shrugged a bit.

"I guess."

She didn't want to think about that either.

"And what did this person want in return? No one makes a gift like this without expecting something."

"Nothing at all, Dad," she answered, lowering her voice, not wanting Prim to hear any of this conversation. "Don't worry about that."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because if someone knew… things would get very ugly for him."

"Him," her father stressed, looking at her.

"Him, yes."

Her father looked at her for a moment and then his gaze became softer. He was probably thinking of Cinna, they all had seen him at the Games and Katniss had told them about him when she arrived. She had explained he was the most modest person she had ever met in the Capitol, because she thought he would have been reassured knowing she was well taken care of. It was also well-known that their teams couldn't bet on anyone, so it fitted her story. It was better that way.

"What does all of this mean, Katniss?" he asked, the weariness present in his voice. "Now we have microphones in our house? Although it doesn't even surprise me that much coming from the Capitol…They are capable of something like that."

He didn't really want to know what they were truly capable of, and neither did she. If she thought about what Finnick had told her that last night, her stomach twisted.

"It's the same there. No, much worse," she corrected herself, after sighing. "People are so…strange, they are in a different world. Do you know what they do at parties? They gorge themselves and then vomit to continue trying everything."

"And the rest of us starve in the meantime," her father muttered under his breath.

"It turns out all that does not matter, you have to do as if nothing has happened. We have to be thankful for…a new life."

"I know, Katniss." She noticed from his reply he had understood her warning. "Listen, I just want my daughters to be okay. As I've always done."

He caressed her hand a little, then gestured to his ear.

"Does it hurt?"

"No, not anymore."

"How did you sleep today?"

"Not very well, not much either. Prim can't stay with me anymore or I'll end up throwing her out of bed."

"You've given her some good kicks, yes."

Katniss gave a sad smile and looked down.

"I'm having nightmares."

"I'm worried about you having them and I'd also be worried if you didn't," her father confessed gently. "You did everything you had to, you're back. We cannot be more proud of you. Of you, not because of the glory, or victory. We've all seen how you protected all of your friends. I know my daughter. You've always been a fighter because you have it inside you. Now you can stop fighting, alright?"

Katniss gave him a little hug that served to ease the tension she felt in her body a bit and just as she broke away from him, Prim appeared at the door.

"We could buy Buttercup a bed."

"Oh, Prim," Katniss laughed. "Think of something for you."

"It's for me, it's what I want."

His father smiled, delighted.

"And maybe a floral wallpaper for the living room?", her sister suggested later. "Mom would have liked it. Everything is so white."

"Yeah, good idea, honey," her father said, and then kissed her on the forehead.

"A big table for the Hawthornes to come to eat every weekend."

At each suggestion Katniss smiled a little more. It was all that empathy and kindness that had made her jump to his sister's defense without hesitation. For that alone it had been worth it. She wrapped her arms around her shoulders and held her tight.

"Don't even doubt that."

Chapter Text

Sixteen

As the Hawthornes walked through the door, Katniss knew with just one look Gale was thinking the same thing as she was: that they would be able to accommodate half of the Seam in this enormous house, and that most of its inhabitants would never know such comfort. At least winning meant they would have some food, basic things like flour, oil, some rice, and canned food. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing, and for a few months her district would be somewhat better off because of her, even if it hadn't even been her purpose. An empty belly could be a death sentence, everyone at the table was aware of it.

"Katniss doesn't know what to do with the office, but I already have an idea," Katniss's father commented.

She stopped eating and looked at him curiously.

"What did you think of?"

"Maybe a consultation, if we can get a permission."

"That's a great idea, Ben," Mrs. Hawthorne replied.

It made sense. He may not have been as good a healer as her mother had been, but he didn't lack the knowledge and they had managed to survive since his accident by selling some remedies she had taught them. Besides, now they didn't even need to be paid for it.

"I can help," Prim offered quickly.

Katniss smiled.

"Sounds perfect, dad. And you," she said, looking at her sister, "you also have to go to school. Just like all of you."

Gale's brother Rory, also a close friend of Gale's sister, chuckled.

"I can do many things at once," Prim said. "I want to do it."

Surely she could, because, although she didn't seem like it, she was just as stubborn as her, and hse spent the day arguing about what was fair and what wasn't. When she grew up, she imagined her being just as determined as her father. Her new situation brought them a peace of mind they had never known. The Hawthorne's were carrying on fine with Gale in the mines and Hazelle working as a laundress to try to care for all of her children by herself, but Katniss felt she could do so much more for them. She didn't like knowing Gale was down there working, where his own father had died and hers had been forever wounded. However, he also had his pride and she knew he was too stubborn to let anyone provide for them, not even his friends.

"You can come whenever you want," she offered, when they finished eating.

Gale's mother thanked her while Prim was still talking to Rory and Posy in the doorway. Now, she just had to really convince him.

"Listen…" she stopped him, lowering her voice a little, "don't let Rory start thinking about going down to the mine. He doesn't need to."

Gale's lips pursed slightly.

"He's got to do something, Katniss."

"But he's still very young, he can look for another job," he replied. "If you don't want me to help you, it's okay, but at least your brothers… I don't know, let them have other opportunities. We've always taken care of ourselves, Gale. This is no different."

It had always been like that, ever since they had met by chance as children, after losing a father and mother and trying to get a livelihood from the forest…why would it be any different now? He was one of her closest friends, she loved them all as if they were her own family. She guessed her plea had had some effect because Gale smiled slightly.

"My mother would be happier if someone had a better future. She doesn't like me going into the woods much either..."

Katniss looked away for a moment and forced a smile. She wasn't ready to talk about it, let alone go back there. She had the impression all of her memories from the Games would haunt her if she did.

"We'll talk, okay?"

Gale walked down the couple of steps and said goodbye.

"See you tomorrow."

Back inside, Katniss cleaned up the entire kitchen with Prim and then her sister went to the living room with her father, who wanted to read quietly for a while. She chose to stay in the kitchen, using the excuse of finishing putting away the dishes, although the truth was she also needed her own silence. She pulled the chair to the spot closest to the counter and opened the address book next to the phone. She didn't know why she was so hesitant, after all he had given her his number, but she hoped he would really listen. Would he mind if she called or not? After what he had done for her, it couldn't be for nothing. When she dialed, she heard the initial beeps and looked out the window. Where would he be? Would he have a window like that? What scenery would distract him? When the beeping stopped, Katniss held her breath for a second.

"Hello?" she heard on the other end of the line, with a distant, but recognizable voice.

"Hello. Finnick?"

It seemed to her that, listening to her, his tone softened.

"Katniss."

"Turns out I do have a phone."

"I told you so. How is the house?"

"The palace, you mean?"

"Yeah, well," he laughed. "I'm glad to hear from you."

Katniss turned her gaze to the street again and wondered what Finnick would see there, what his victor's village would be like, if he had someone to chat with.

"How are you?" She asked him.

"Me?" he replied, surprised. "Good. And you? How are you adjusting?"

The answer to that was not something anyone wanted to hear. She was still fine physically, otherwise...

"Well."

"What's happening?"

"I have nightmares and all that," she replied shortly, as if she could erase everything that way. As if she could forget she kept seeing Marvel's face in her dreams, that she looked in the mirror and saw herself much older, that she noticed how her father was watching her when he thought she didn't see. "Did you talk…did you talk to Estee's parents?"

Katniss heard a slight sigh on the other end.

"Yes, of course. It was the first thing I did after coming back."

It was what she wanted to hear, but then she didn't have the courage to ask him how it had been. After all, she had a job to do too, and she hadn't dared to face it yet.

"I'm going to take a letter from Alder to his family," she confessed quietly. "I'm not sure if they want to see me."

"It may be painful for everyone, but they'd better have it, that's for sure. Trust me, I've been doing this for years."

I don't, and I don't want to do this every summer, she thought. If she didn't tell him, it was only because she knew they might be listening.

"What time is it there?"

"It's not noon yet."

"I didn't wake you up, did I?"

"Do you think I only hang around when I'm home, Everdeen?"

She laughed, even though she didn't feel like laughing at all, but it was nice to know that Finnick was still Finnick even away.

"I don't know."

"I'm going to go swimming in a bit. What are you doing?"

"Nothing, we've already eaten. I think I'm going to go now…to see Alder's family."

It was the perfect time, they would be at home or at the shoe store."

"Hey, take it easy," Finnick advised. "They'll be grateful."

She wasn't that convinced about it.

"I'll call you another day this week and you'll tell me how it went, okay?"

"Yeah. See you later, Finnick."

"Bye bye."

Katniss stared at the phone after hanging up for a moment, undecided, but ended up getting up for the letter, but not before telling her father she was leaving. If she didn't do it now, and she had to do it alone, she would never dare. She ignored the main streets, and walked with her head down to avoid being looked at or stopped to congratulate her, and she didn't leave her way until she found the entrance to the shoe store. It was in a good area of the district, near the town hall, where you could tell that there were real sidewalks and not stone and dirt paths.

She opened the door with her heart pounding and looking up she met a pair of surprised eyes. She deduced he would be one of Alder's brothers, because he had the same complexion as him. Actually, he looked so much like him that a small chill ran up her spine.

"Are you John?"

He looked at her with his mouth open, as if he had been paralyzed and just nodded.

"Are your parents here?" The boy, who couldn't have been much older than Alder, shook his head again. "Can I talk to you?"

"Come in," he finally said, opening the counter and motioning for her to follow him into the back room.

There, she found herself face to face with whom she assumed to be Alder's parents and another younger child, his other brother, sitting, working at a small wooden table. When her mother saw her, she dropped the piece from her hands.

"Hello," she greeted, noticing how her pulse trembled. She had to squeeze the letter between her hands to contain herself. "I'm sorry. I don't want…I don't want to bother you. I'm only…"

Katniss stopped to catch her breath and the father stood up.

"There's no problem."

Looking down for a second, she realized the woman's eyes were swollen. She bit the inside of her cheek and then began to speak.

"Even if I didn't get to see him inside the Games, we spent a lot of time together. I have a thing Alder wrote and… he asked me to give it to you if he didn't came back. He also wanted me to tell the three of you he loved you very much," she pronounced, managing not to get stuck. "He was a good boy, he didn't deserve it."

Her father didn't look away from her, but he didn't stop blinking to contain himself, much the same as her. He took the envelope firmly.

"Thank you."

She turned around and when she was about to go through the door, she heard the woman's trembling voice call her:

"Katniss. We're glad you won."

Not me, she thought to herself. Sometimes I'm not even happy about that.

"I'm so sorry," she told them, without looking at them again.

She left the store without saying anything else, and returned to the street so quickly she didn't see where she was going, until, a few meters ahead, she suddenly brushed against a person while she was running away. She was going so fast she scared herself when she the man in front of her, until she stopped, took a breath and realized it was Michael Elwood, the other winner besides her and Haymitch.

"Katniss?"

"Sorry," she apologized to him, as quickly as she noticed who he was.

"Are you alright?"

"I was coming from…"

She glanced back, where the store was still visible, and Michael followed her gaze.

"Oh. Are you walking home?"

She nodded and quickly wiped her face. She was sure she was red from the few tears that had escaped her. What a silly way to meet someone, because although they both knew who the other was, they had never exchanged a word. Michael was about the same height as her, older than Haymitch and his father. She noted he wasn't as skinny as she remembered him to have been before the Games, which had to be a good sign.

"You have been very brave," he told her, as they started walking, "and I don't mean just the Games."

Katniss shrugged a bit.

"It's what he wanted me to do."

"Sometimes promises are useless, that says a lot about you."

If she knew little of Haymitch's Games, she knew even less of Elwood's, or how he had won. Of course, it was hard to imagine a winning boy seeing that weakened man, but still retaining a certain strength in his gaze.

"My apologies in advance if my grandson is running around your house. He isn't used to having neighbors and he is getting a taste for walking."

So he had children, even a grandson. She couldn't even imagine her life in one or five years, let alone in such a distant future. She had always sworn to herself she would never bring a child into a world as horrible as hers.

"I don't mind, don't worry about that," she assured him. "I haven't even been out much."

"It'll pass, it's the shock from the beginning, you think that the whole world is watching you and noticing your every movement... To a certain extent, it's true" he conceded.

"May I ask how you are? You look…"

"Better, yes, thank you," he completed for her, with a grateful smile. "This treatment is working somewhat better."

"Glad to hear it."

"We all want a few more years, don't we? Especially if we have someone to spend them with. I know something about guilt, too, and it won't get you anywhere, Katniss. It's normal to feel it but... with time it will be better. Even when they send you back there and everything stirs up the past."

She made a face.

"I don't know if I'd rather go back inside than see more kids die."

"Maybe you can save someone, who knows?" Even so, it wasn't a kind prospect either. "You won't be alone, you will have Haymitch to help you. Although he is not the best at making conversation, he is trustworthy and he has his reasons for being like that."

"I know," she murmured. "I already know more than I would like."

"And for that I'm sorry. This is a nasty world," he pronounced, turning his gaze to the entrance of the Winners' Village. "All we can do is support each other so...if you ever want to talk, you just have to knock on the door."

Katniss tried to return his smile, despite still feeling the lump in her throat. She didn't know if it was much of a comfort, but there was a certain relief in feeling that some people would understand what she had been through. Maybe, just maybe, there was a future to build from there.

Chapter Text

The scream escaped her throat without her even realizing she was producing it. Her heart pounded as she opened her eyes, still paralyzed. The sheets were stuck to her skin, as she was covered in a cold sweat. Katniss didn't know where she was or what was happening to her, until her mind understood she was home. The first thing she thought was that she was going to wake Prim up, surely she must have kicked her, then she remembered they didn't have to sleep together anymore and she was alone. It was the hurried footsteps down the hall that helped steady her breathing. For a second, she couldn't place the voice that called her from the doorway. After getting up slightly, she distinguished him in the shadows, breathing just as agitated as she was.

"Katniss."

It was just her father, she thought with relief, because she couldn't even speak. He always came to her rescue, always, only once he hadn't been able to help her. She focused on catching her breath and after taking a slow one she reached up to turn on the lamp on the nightstand.

"I thought someone had broken into the house," she heard her father say, almost out of breath. "You were screaming."

Katniss's lips parted, dread still simmering in her throat.

"I'm sorry," she emitted in just a whisper.

He made his way to her bed slowly, without his cane, until he leaned against it, but leaving her space.

"You're fine, you're home. Easy, honey."

Katniss squeezed his hands tightly for a moment and even though the uneasiness didn't leave her body, hearing him talk about it softened the fear thenightmare had awakened in her.

"Go to bed, dad," she asked him a little later. "I'm fine."

"It's okay if you're not, Katniss."

She knew it, but she could already feel her eyes burning, threatening to shed some tears, something she desperately wanted to avoid. She wasn't ashamed to cry in front of her father, she actually didn't mind, but the frustration quickly got the best of her. She was grateful he couldn't see her well, and also that he was close, because she didn't know where she had her hearing aid and she was even a little confused. At night, everything made her feel weaker and more vulnerable, because her senses were no longer what they used to, nor were her thoughts. The hearing issue, the nightmares she was having, the worries that kept her awake... she had won, but her life was no longer easy, by no means. It had never been and never would it be, she feared.

"I'm going to drink something and try to sleep again, I promise," she told her father, and only then, after trying to make him see she was alert enough to come up with a full sentence, was she able to coax him back to sleep. She hated having to make everyone look out for her, and even though she knew she didn't have to face it alone, it was hard to reconcile the two thoughts.

The floor in the kitchen was cold, but even that didn't fully wake her up. She did as she had told her father, since he was most likely waiting for her to come back up, she drank a glass of water and went back to bed, although in fact she couldn't sleep a wink afterwards. Marvel's face and his body falling down followed her, every other night without fail.

And like that she had already let a few weeks slip away, fall was coming soon and half of the summer had been taken from her at the Capitol, along with the person she used to be before. She still hadn't set foot in the woods with Gale again, nor did she seem capable of doing so for the moment. Her family and her friends, however, were what really encouraged her to keep going, so, after that complicated early morning, she decided that she would visit Madge. Now that she didn't have to struggle to make a living to eat properly she didn't quite know what to do with her free time and the market, which Gale and her used to frequent, was not the kind of place a girl like Madge would go to. She doubted she had ever entered in her whole life.

The aimless walk they took led them almost inadvertently to the Mellarks' bakery. Prim used to drag her there to see the pies in the window, but those days were over now. Although she kept a bittersweet memory in relation to that store, it also gave her hope of how life could be transformed and improved. She walked in behind Madge, without giving it much thought, and observed all of the pastries and scones, inhaling the smell of freshly baked bread and sweets that made her stomach growl. She heard Madge ask the baker for a loaf of bread to take home, and as she remained lost in thought, unable to choose, a second softer voice startled her.

"Your father usually buys a lot of those cookies."

Katniss looked up to see a boy right in front of her, behind the counter. Her heart skipped a little for a second, noticing the crystalline blue eyes fixing on her, though without any hardness.

"It's because they're my favorites," Katniss replied, after recovering herself. "Can I have six, please?"

When she turned slightly to the left, she noticed Madge was still talking to Mr. Mellark, so she took the opportunity to look at his son, suddenly feeling nervous.

"Peeta, there was this day, I don't know if you remember…" she began slowly. "You…you gave me some bread."

He looked at her in silence, with a serious expression, and immediately opened his mouth in surprise, as if he didn't believe her capable of reminding him of that.

"I shouldn't have done it that way, they were burned and you were getting soaked..."

Katniss shook her head slightly, not meaning to make him nervous as well, for no reason. If she was bringing up that memory, that moment which was so horrible for her and at the same time something for which she was so grateful, it was because before she hadn't considered herself capable of looking at his face again. At that moment, when she didn't even have anything to put in her mouth after so many days, that single selfless act of someone who wasn't even her friend had changed everything.

"You saved my life," she whispered. "Back then, I had nothing, you know? I owe you."

Peeta nodded a little after breaking into a smile, half blushing, and Katniss couldn't help but let one slip from her as well. It was even bigger, when she went out with Madge and she realized he had given her an extra cookie in the package, so they ate it together on their way. She loved the ones with chocolate chunks in the middle and she knew someone who would love them for sure too, she thought. She wished he had been there. As if he had read his thoughts, she had barely had time to change clothes and get comfortable when the phone rang.

"I'll go!," she screamed, not knowing where her father really was.

Since they could answer from the other line in the office, she didn't bother going down to the kitchen.

"Hello?"

"Hello again. Am I interrupting something?"

Katniss plopped down on the couch and repositioned the phone, she must have sounded agitated and that's why he had said it. She was already getting used to how Finnick's voice sounded on the other end.

"No, I just came from the bakery. It's a little early for you, isn't it?"

"It's a boring day, it's been raining since last night. What have you bought?"

"Cookies, with chocolate and all that."

"Don't make me jealous," he protested, although with a hint of amusement ringing in his voice.

"If it makes you feel less jealous, I haven't slept at all," she admitted. After all, it was foolish to hide it from him. "I guess nightmares are normal, but I don't know what else to do anymore."

"I walked a lot, do something that distracts you during the day to be more tired, it usually worked for me. Oh, and don't spend too much time watching television or you won't sleep a wink," he advised.

Katniss wasn't crazy about the shows and propaganda they aired, but it was good for her to know anyway.

"And what are you doing?" She asked him. "Are you home alone?"

"Who am I going to be with? I only have Mags left here."

Her mentor, Katniss recalled, from what she understood she was a rather older woman.

"Right," she lamented. "Sorry."

"No problem. A few days ago I got to see Johanna, I'm not always alone, so."

"Johanna who?" she replied. "Johanna Mason?"

She was the only person who sounded familiar to her with such a name.

"We get along well. You would too, I think."

Katniss frowned a bit, even though he wasn't going to see it. She would never have thought of it.

"She seems to be a bit..."

"Rude?" Finnick suggested.

"I was going to say brutal."

He emitted a small laugh.

"Well, yeah. Nothing scares her."

Although silence fell between the two for a moment, Katniss didn't feel uncomfortable. They could wait for the other to come up with anything to say without fear of having to fill every second to keep the interest, which calmed her down, the fact that he didn't expect anything from her.

"Is it cold in 4?" It suddenly occurred to her.

"Not really, even if it rains."

"It's starting to get cool here. I used to not like this time of the year at all," she said, almost without thinking. "Many times we warmed up whatever way we could."

"I imagine it must be complicated," he admitted.

"My father had to work very hard to even buy coffee and stay warm. Now he is setting up some kind of physician's office or an apothecary at the house, I haven't told you. They have granted him a permission in the district."

"I'm so glad, Katniss. That's amazing news."

"Yes, it's good that we can do something to help others."

"It'll do a lot of good, that's for sure. Listen, the other day…did you see Alder's parents?"

Katniss sighed slightly before answering.

"Yes, and you were right. It was tough, but they treated me better than I expected."

"I told you. How are they?"

"They're having a bad time, of course," Katniss replied, lowering her voice. "I hope this gives them the peace they are looking for…that is what matters."

Finnick coughed a bit, then cleared his throat.

"Well, I don't want to keep you entertained any longer."

"You don't bother me," Katniss replied, to switch to a less painful topic. "Actually, I have nothing to do until afternoon. I'm going to see that singing program. I don't really like it, but Prim never misses it."

"It's not bad, even if they have never invited me to go," he replied.

Katniss smiled. She missed him a little, him and his quick wit, the unexpected comments that made her forget everything for a second and always ended up making her smile.

"Bye, Finnick."

"Rest up, Katniss."

Chapter Text

Katniss looked at the closet, almost half of it filled with clothes of all shades. She had never had so many clothes for herself, not even before had they own so much the three of them together. Madge moved from one item of clothing to another with her hands, looking for something that caught her attention. Right before her, Prim had already chosen a dress, which they would only have to fix a little to make it fit her. She could use it for Sundays. Velvet, good wool, silk… she had materials of all kinds waiting to be worn. Madge took down a green dress and ran her fingers over some sparkling stones on the shoulders.

"They do look like diamonds," she murmured with fascination.

Then, Katniss approached her to see it more closely, in the light of the window. She wouldn't know the difference between real and fake, but she feared she was right. When Madge gave it to her, she quickly put it away in the closet, almost terrified. Why would she want to wear something like that? Why would she waste that money on a piece of clothing? With its worth one could probably feed the entire district.

"Is there anything you actually like?" Her friend asked her.

Katniss looked back at the closet and nodded to her.

"Only that one."

It was a dark blue jumpsuit, long and elegant, the only one she had tried on that hadn't made her feel like someone who lived in the Capitol. They would arrive to take her measurements once the victory tour approached, and check if what they had sent as gifts didn't fit. She would also have to try what Cinna would design for her last stop at the Capitol. After Madge had finished inspecting everything, Katniss gifted her a pale pink blouse that suited her better and they both decided to take a walk. It had slowly become a routine, something to distract themselves, although, in the mornings, Katniss had begun to like going for a run, following Finnick's advice. In those last couple of weeks she at least had rested bit better, so it had been helpful. They were almost around the edge of the Seam when Madge looked up at the trees, absentmindedly touching the fence that separated them from the meadow as she passed.

"We could go to the forest," she commented suddenly, under her breath.

Katniss looked at her, raising her eyebrows in surprise, unintentionally.

"Do you want to go?" she asked.

She had never told her anything alike, and she imagined she had never left the boundaries of 12 as she had done hundreds of times. Her friend smiled slightly before shrugging her shoulders.

"Why not?"

Katniss slowed for a moment, but only to change their way to the area where the fence was not electrified and they could squeeze through a gap at the bottom. She didn't mind her asking, even if she only found the idea appealing. Still, it was Madge. She was well aware that her escapes there until the Games were not an adventure, nor a whim, but a need. But…what about Madge? Had she ever fantasized about getting lost in the meadow, among the trees? Katniss hadn't even thought of it until now. For a person who had everything, she had the same limited freedom as everyone else.

"Had you already been back?" Madge asked her, when they were just crossing the meadow.

Katniss looked down and inhaled until she smelled the pungent smell of grass. She noticed that Madge was watching her intently, while she equally observed where she stepped, as if she were out of place.

"One day, with Gale. Just for a walk".

He had hunted, and she had stood watching, almost paralyzed, although she had found it so difficult to articulate it she hadn't said a word to Gale about it.

"Aren't you going to hunt?" Madge almost murmured, unsured to say it. Katniss stopped, noticing the concern in her voice. "I know you don't need it...is your hearing well?"

She swallowed and gave Madge a small smile so she wouldn't get concerned.

"Maybe not like before, but I think I could manage. It's just that..." She stopped and made a vague gesture with her hands, until she decided to sit down and breathe. "I have the bow at home, the one from the Games, but I don't want to use it. When I get the arrow and I'm about to shoot, even if I'm just testing it, it's like they're in front of me."

Her friend sat next to her and squeezed her hand a little.

"I'm sorry, Katniss."

She had to look away for a moment to clear the lump that had formed in her throat, but she composed herself quickly. She didn't want to think about it, although she was grateful that she felt comfortable enough with Madge to be able to say it out loud.

"Look at you out here," she smiled at her, changing the subject. "Who would have told you?"

She smiled too and leaned back to look at the sky, already lying down.

"It's like another world. Everything is so calm."

Katniss imitated her and, for a while, there were only almost tiny clouds crossing the sky, with the soft breeze around her and the only sound of birds and their slow breathing. On days like that, maybe she didn't need anything more than that simple company. Maybe that was the only thing that mattered, what she had been worth fighting for.

"We can come whenever you want, they won't find out," she told Madge. "I can even teach you how to swim."

It wasn't a lie, not completely. The fence had been damaged in that area for years and the guards raised their hands because they also traded on the black market for food, like everyone else. Madge turned her head, leaning on one arm.

"Where?"

"There is a lake a short walk from here. It'll be cold soon, so it'll have to be now or wait until spring."

"That's fine. I had no idea how you could cross that river like it was nothing, but now I see it."

Swimming, Katniss repeated to herself. Maybe swimming was also a good way to clear her mind. For now, running was, to some extent, liberating.

"Madge," she later called. "I don't get why you haven't come with me here before."

"Because when you and Gale went out here it wasn't for fun," she replied, suddenly more serious. "I've never had to think about something like that to live. I didn't want you to think I didn't take it seriously."

"I wouldn't have thought anything like that, Madge."

She was sure because she was the only friend of hers, the only one she really had other than Gale, someone who hadn't mind hanging out with the lonely girl from the Seam, someone who had seen past the differences in their lives from the beginning. Even if her only motive had been to see nature in person, to discover what it could be like to be on the verge of reaching freedom, that would have been valid enough. Didn't everyone dream of a world in which no one dictated what they should do?

"Maybe not you," she said, and she sat up. "I once asked Gale if it was too far, that place where you got the strawberries you usually sold to Dad, and he laughed in my face."

Katniss sat up abruptly as well and frowned a little. She wasn't aware of anything like that happening either, because none had said anything to her, but she deduced Madge would have been embarrassed.

"He's never liked me," she added in a murmur, turning her face away.

"He doesn't hate you. Gale…" Sometimes it seemed to her he was blinded by his hatred for anyone with privilege, but it wasn't Madge's fault that she was the mayor's daughter, or that the system was unfair. Katniss shook her head a little and added, "It's not because of you, that's how he is. Anyway, why didn't you ask me then?"

"I guess I only wanted to have something to say to him."

"Because…?"

Katniss stared at her, surprised, as she shrugged her shoulders nervously.

"I don't know, just to talk," she answered, with a slight blush on her cheeks that Katniss couldn't miss. "To have an excuse to do it, at least."

"Sorry," she told her, after she involuntarily laughed when she realized what she was saying. "Madge…are you into Gale?"

She quickly covered her face, although Katniss noticed Madge laughing, turning even redder as she began to laugh too.

"I can't believe it. Well, you should know… he once kissed me."

"Kissed you?" Madge almost shouted.

It had happened about a year ago, one morning while they were sitting not far from there, while sharing a bread roll. Katniss had been too slow to react, because one minute they were chatting and laughing and suddenly Gale was getting too close to her, but then she had interrupted him.

"I'm not joking. I pushed him to get him off of me and we didn't talk about it again," she explained, then grimaced. "It was like kissing my brother."

Madge shook her head a little, as if she wanted to forget such a scene, but she continued smiling at her. Katniss didn't want anything else from Gale other than a beautiful friendship, so she found it funny that Madge wanted his attention when he had never gave it to her. Maybe that was the reason, or that they were almost opposites and she was attracted to something different from herself. How could she know? She couldn't say she understood what it was like to fall in love with anyone, because she had never felt anything like that.

"I have something to tell you too," Katniss spoke. It had occurred to her suddenly, for some reason, but after hearing Madge confess, it seemed appropriate. "Do you know who I met at the Capitol? Finnick Odair."

"Finnick Odair?" Her friend repeated, with amazement. "When? At the Coronation in the Capitol?

"Actually, before the Games," Katniss explained. "We bumped into each other one day and then...because of the alliance with 4 we saw each other once, and after winning, of course. We talk a lot on the phone."

Madge listened, with a real interest that made her feel not as nervous as she had imagined when telling anyone, because, what would be the first thing you would think? Considering the reputation they had created for him, she didn't even want to imagine, if, for example, it had been Gale and not her.

"What is he like?"

"It's...complicated," Katniss hesitated. "He is a bit cocky, although not as much as I thought, and he is very kind, he has done a lot for me. I would never have said it, but we got along well."

Madge looked at her, smiling slightly.

"Then you'll see it when you go on the Victory Tour."

It was the only thing Katniss could be happy about. Going district by district, seeing people who had lost their children or friends in the Games was not going to be pleasant, especially in the first districts. She also didn't want to think about getting to 11 or even recognizing Estee's family. Although she was going to be home for a while, she felt it would serve to open wounds she wouldn't even be able to close soon.

"I'm more excited about seeing the sea, though," Katniss said, thinking of a day in what seemed like another life, when Finnick had told her that one day she would see it with her own eyes.

In the end, he would even be right about that too.

Chapter Text

Nineteen

Finnick let the waves rock him as he floated, watching the grayish sky overhead. The weather was starting to get worse, and soon his daily swims at the beach would have to be shorter, or they would be straight over until spring arrived, at least. The outside temperature gave him goosebumps as he got out of the water, although the feeling was so familiar to him that he hardly found it unpleasant anymore. He slowly made his way to the shore, and then quickened his pace across the sand, to where he had left his towel. He put it over his shoulders, glancing sideways at the sky, where some dark clouds were beginning to appear, and he started walking home.

In the distance, a group of fishermen could be seen, almost as if they were queuing, spread out along the breakwater, with another group among the rocks focused on their work. That area of the beach was the quietest, because the houses of the Victors' Village bordered directly on it and it seemed like they had an unspoken agreement by which no one dared to bother them. Still, Finnick preferred either mornings or afternoons like this, before sunset, because then he could cross paths with fewer people. It hadn't always been like this, but in those weeks in particular, it was also preferable.

They were in that period between the end of the Games and the next arrival of the Victory Tour, a few months of respite and, at the same time, full tension, especially for those who had lost everything and would have to be remembered of it again. It wouldn't be pleasant for anyone, not even those who won, he knew that well, since his own life had slowly gone down the drain at the end of the tour too. He wouldn't have a clear conscience now either, it was enough for him to have seen Robin's parents by chance near the port a few days ago, and watch them walk away as soon as they recognized him. At that moment, he wondered how Katniss was handling it, if she was already killing Haymitch or the prep team for the outfits they would pick out for her, if she was nervous or just wanted to get it over with soon. Truth be told, she would never be done, since the end of the tour would automatically make her a mentor. He had also believed once he was safe after winning, but one way or another, such a wish was never fulfilled.

Finnick slowed his pace as he found himself at the back of his house. It was more similar to cottage than a mansion compared to the residence of other victors, but he preferred it that way. He liked the scarce touches of marble combined with the tile and the bluish color of the outside. It had always seemed to him like an extension of the sea and although he had barely been able to share it as he should, it felt like a real home. The first thing he did when he entered was to go straight to the shower, since as much as he loved the smell of salt, it was most uncomfortable to go to bed with that sticky feeling on his skin. When he finished, he put on a simple cotton t-shirt and some comfortable pants and checked if he was on time. If he was counting correctly in less than half an hour they would be knocking on his door, so he went down the stairs to the kitchen, turned on the television and the oven.

Given the mess he was with the kitchen and cooking in general, it was surprising that he liked that corner of the house so much. Maybe it was because of the huge window over the sink, which opened all the space to the sea, as if it were right there. At that moment he didn't have the best of views. Apart from the fishermen, a group could be seen training, running along the beach at a brisk pace. They were just kids led by their coaches and his throat closed a little when he thought of himself walking the same paths years ago. His family had never been crazy about the Games, his parents had simply believed it would be the best for him, that he would be safer if he trained, just in case. Just in case.

Finnick looked back inside. To his left was the living room combined with the dining room and when he looked back there it was impossible for him to jump over the shelf with the collection of shells that had once belonged to Annie, or the immaculate photo frame in which she appeared so joyous, so calm. It was painful for him, but he preferred to remember her that way. Finnick couldn't blame her for her decision, much less hate her, for that he already had himself. He should have done more for her, everything could have ended differently.

After a moment of doubt, he retraced his steps to make sure the oven was really on. He'd never put any effort into learning how to use it, or anything else in that kitchen, for that matter, not if it involved actual cooking. That night he had also bought dessert, of course. When the doorbell rang a few minutes later he was grateful not to be left alone with his thoughts and the background noise of the television any longer, with some corporate song of the Capitol playing now. A face that was more than familiar to him appeared before him, a face that undoubtedly showed the passing of time, but that never stopped having the same warmth in its gaze. Finnick held the door and smiled.

"Mags."

She was like a mother to him, or maybe an aunt or grandmother taking their ages into account, since Mags' grandchildren were already older than him and she had even had his first great-granddaughter recently.

"Finn," she whispered in his ear as Finnick leaned down to hug her.

No one called him that outside of his family. Every time he heard it, no matter how many times that was, he became a child again, someone loved, someone who was safe. Mags caressed his cheek for a moment and crossed the threshold, giving way to another younger woman behind her, but someone who had the same smile and genuineness as her mother.

"Hello, Melia," Finnick greeted, with another short hug.

"So dressed up to be at home. Did you get back from swimming?"

"Always," he smiled. "Yeah, just came back".

The woman handed him a tray wrapped with cooking foil.

"Put this in the oven, will you? It's probably already cool and you know how mom gets with food."

Finnick turned around, slamming the door with his foot and the tray in his hands. Mags liked things at the temperature meant for them, although it couldn't have gotten much colder from her house at the end of Victor's village anyway.

"You can sit down now if you want," he told them from the kitchen.

Mags muttered something about how she could still walk perfectly, which caused his daughter to laugh. Since she had had the stroke it was difficult to fully understand her when she spoke and she ended up communicating more through gestures than words. It would always amaze Finnick that even that hadn't dampened her spirits. However, he had noticed she was thinner when he hugged her, more fragile, perhaps. She no longer left the house as much as before and if she came to see him once or twice a month like then she already considered it an achievement. He guessed time passed for everyone, but that didn't make it any less difficult to digest, not when she had been with him through so many horrible moments, the Games, the loss of his parents, Annie's. Mags had never left him, never.

"How is Sena doing?", he asked Melia back in the living room.

Both of them had already found a seat in a corner of the largest sofa, next to the terrace window.

"Growing faster and faster every day," she responded, with a slight smile when talking about her first granddaughter. "Next time they come here she'll be able to say your name."

Finnick found it a bit unlikely, but he nodded slightly as he finished setting the table. He didn't know where he would be the next few months, he hoped to stay away from the Capitol with the unique exception of the Games, like he had until then. He looked at them for a second and wondered where he would be when he reached their ages, if he ever got there. If it was difficult for him to picture his life in a year, it was harder to think about the decades to come. It was complicated, in general, to imagine having a life of his own, he had already tried with Annie once and he had ended up again, like he always did: alone. He knew that deep down he wasn't; he had Mags, Johanna, Haymitch, in a way, but reality was there to remind him. He always came back to an empty house, there was no one to tell how his day had gone or what things were keeping him awake at night.

"What's that?" Mags asked, gesturing exasperatedly at the television. "Finn."

He shrugged.

"I wasn't seeing it, it's just…there."

"It's not good for you," his former mentor protested again.

Finnick stopped for a moment to listen to whatever program he had on and discovered they were discussing the Victory Tour, reviewing the best moments from previous years and betting on Katniss's final arrival at the Capitol, what the party or the outfits would be like, as if it were the event of the year. It truly was.

"They're going to end up getting here eventually, anyway," he justified himself. "I have to find out about those things, you know."

"You've always wanted for it to pass as quickly as possible," Melia remembered, giving him a look that seemed a little worried to Finnick.

He sat on the other couch next to them and stared at Melia for a while. Giving them a smile and telling them he was fine would not work, because they really knew him.

"I'm a little worried," he admitted, at the same time he saw Mags frown a little. "I'm worried about her."

He lifted his chin as he saw some footage of Katniss in the last interview at the Capitol, a movement the two of them immediately followed.

"Katniss Everdeen?"

Mags continued to look at the screen after Finnick nodded and imitated him, as if she agreed.

"She shouldn't have said some things she said at the Games. Having so much pity for the girl from 11…She also took Estee's passing badly." At that moment he didn't say it had felt just as bad for him, because it was clear. "Too much empathy, let's say. I talk to her from time to time, she is a good girl and I'm worried about the direction her victory may take."

Melia pulled back her bun a little, in a half-nervous gesture, after giving a sideways glance to her mother and then to him.

"You don't believe that..."

She didn't complete the question, but Finnick did in his mind: you don't believe they'll do the same thing to her as they did to you?

"I don't know, Haymitch is trying to protect her. Sell her as a savior, a family-oriented person and that stuff. Mags, you know he's a little chaotic, but he's smart."

"Yes," she murmured. "He can do it."

Finnick sighed.

"She's seventeen, she's young but not too young to be inappropriate for them, we know that doesn't turn them away either though."

At that moment, Mags rose slightly to squeeze his hand a little. Finnick smiled sadly.

"She's the first female winner in her district," he added. "Being unattainable and desirable is a dangerous combination."

Mags shook her head.

"Not the first one. Lucy," she added. Finnick couldn't remember anyone before Haymitch, but, at the beginning, the Games hadn't been like they were currently, he knew that from Mags, so he figured she would be right. "Before me."

Melia, on the other hand, smiled at him.

" It's very nice of you to try to help her, Finnick."

"I had people who did it for me."

And he would always be grateful, although even that hadn't been enough, it made a difference to feel supported. He stood up with an exhalation and a half smile escaped him as he caught the smell coming from the kitchen.

"We should have dinner before I burn the house down."

Melia shook her head a little and Finnick discovered the same warm glow in Mags' eyes that he recognized. This time the story would end well. It had to.

Chapter Text

The world seemed different on the other side of the glass, especially when it was a world she had never been allowed to witness. The first thing that caught Katniss's attention about District 11, unfortunately, was not the immense fields with endless crops that fed all of Panem and particularly the Capitol, but the state of the District. From the train, she had already been able to spot people here and there, crouching among the crops, collecting their products, and at the end, before getting to the station, a series of houses that were almost mere shacks, even less resistant-looking than in the Seam. The scene was so familiar she could not help but feel a knot in her stomach when looking outside. It had also reminded her, helplessly, of Rue's innocence, of her sweetness, of Thresh's need to avenge her, showing his own way of honoring someone from home. That life had hardened them, yes, but it had not taken away their humanity, not even when they were forcibly led to their deaths. Just like that man who had been taken away in the square that afternoon. The stillness of the train's coach only served to further increase the memory of the commotion that had occurred not more than a few hours ago.

Katniss leaned forward, clutching the remote control of the television, taking in every detail of the show starting, with all the details of the beginning of her victory tour. What was repeated the most, while some people on a set discussed the event, were the images of her from the previous day before leaving 12. They had decided to interview Prim, along with her styling team, while her family and the entire District was there to support her and say their goodbyes. Her father appeared behind her all the time with a half-furrowed brow, looking even more solemn than herself. Thank goodness Haymitch was smiling, in an unusual gesture for him, and even Michael appeared in a good shape. It was a very strange image for Katniss, but it would undoubtedly seem idyllic to the inhabitants of the Capitol, perhaps even touching. Maybe that was what Haymitch intended, who knew. Anyway, she was already ruining everything. Why had she offered to give part of her prize to 11? She had recognized Rue's family and her entire façade had fallen apart, no doubt.

No matter how much she watched and waited for the scene she longed to witness again, despite having experienced it in person, it never came. No sign of the man who had suddenly whistled and saluted in her honor, provoking an avalanche of reactions later. The peacekeepers had quickly gone after him, just as they had jumped to drag her away from the stage. They had only included her speech, her arrival and a brief image of them greeting the mayor. Katniss leaned back against the couch and looked out the carriage window. There was nothing but pure blackness on the other side now, with hardly any lights or any other trace of human life. What should she do now? Go to each district to tell its inhabitants, who had lost their children and friends, how exciting it was to be the winner? What would happen to the people of 11? And with her family? There were only 10 more districts left, the final night at the Capitol and the banquet back home. And on all those occasions she had to continue as if nothing had happened at all.

Although the television was still on, it was the faint noise of the automatic door opening and closing that made Katniss interrupt her musing. At the door, her mentor suddenly stopped, not expecting her presence.

"What are you doing, still awake?" Katniss jerked her chin in response toward the screen. "I see. Did you think they would let anyone outside of 11 find out?"

She wasn't expecting it, no, but she wanted to make sure anyway.

"We know," she replied.

"Yes, and we better keep it that way," Haymitch replied, then sat down next to her, with a bottle and glass in hand. "Us and no one else."

It seemed impossible to her. Even if no one from 11 would get out of there, wouldn't there be some peacekeeper who would speak, or people in some other position, the mayor, perhaps? There were dozens of people accompanying her on the tour who had witnessed it too. And if someone spoke, what future would await them? Snow would cut losses without hesitation. Although she was too restless to bear the presence of anyone else, she was relieved it was Haymitch. With just a look or a quick comment he could understand what she was thinking, he always anticipated what she was worried about before she could explain herself. While her mentor poured the glass, Katniss glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. She didn't know much about alcohol, other than that they sometimes used it in 12 to warm up. It did not satisfy hunger, nor thirst. The feeling that everything was slipping out of her control had not faded since the games, only temporarily, at home. That was why Haymitch drank, among other reasons, she assumed. It had been many years since his games, many dead children in the meantime and for one who had returned home, she couldn't stop making her future more complicated.

"Don't think about it anymore," Haymitch said. "There are many days ahead and they'll want you to break down because of this. It's Snow's way of punishing the rest of us."

Katniss didn't even flinch, she was no longer looking at the screen, but at her own body. She hadn't changed yet, but her shoes were the only thing that didn't really bother her, because she had got them at home. She thought about the hands that had made them, Alder's family. She wondered if he himself had made pairs like that with his parents or his brothers before he passed, if perhaps he would've liked to follow in their footsteps, if he had lived. And there she was, knowing no better than to let emotions dominate her. She wasn't sure if she should consider it a flaw or a strength. At least she had something to feel: grief, anger, guilt.

"Do you think they killed someone for it?"

Haymitch seemed to consider it for a long moment.

"It's likely."

Katniss's fingers mindlessly slid to the mockingjay she still carried on her chest, because Cinna had allowed her to wear it.

"I provoked it." His mentor shook her head. "That's what I can't understand."

Why greet her like that? Why pay her respect in that way, knowing that it would be taken as an inappropriate gesture, a challenge?

"It's very simple, Katniss. You have shown them compassion, respect. In the games there is no place for it, let alone for friendship. Do you think Snow is compassionate? Does he want us to feel united?"

She shook her head.

"You have shown them the possibility. How they react to it is not your fault, it has been too much today. They didn't make any fuss until they dragged us all inside. This is what they do. They only know how to operate with violence and threats."

Haymitch's voice had gotten deeper, darker, more tired, too. Katniss slowly sat up and looked at him, just as exhausted. She had to be more careful, she had to really listen to his advice, that was clear.

"I'm sorry," she murmured. "I'll read Effie's cards. Just read."

Katniss quickly left for her compartment then, before she could hear if Haymitch had anything to say back. The only thing she had tried to do in the Arena was give a decent send-off to a girl as innocent as Rue, behave like a human being and not a machine without feelings. She was just a child, she was still one too, but everyone seemed to forget about it. How did they want her to react to something like that? What threat could she pose after all, a girl from 12 like her, who was of no importance? At no point had she considered anything she could do would make such a difference.

The first thing she did before changing her clothes was undo her mockingjay pin. She thought of everything it had witnessed, the people who had held it before her: Madge and her aunt and everything that had happened to her, Estee asking her if she would sing to the mockingjays, Rue and her learning to whistle, her father singing to her in the forest so many songs she shouldn't have known and that the mockingjays had spread without anyone stopping them. Tomorrow would be another day, yes, but she wouldn't remove it. She wasn't going to let that be taken from her too.

Although it was an unpleasant situation to be, touring the districts, at least there was not the madness of the Capitol, nor the fanaticism around her, nor hundreds of people waiting for her, as if she had done something worthy of acclaim. She almost preferred those detesting faces forced to be there, who day after day listened to her deliver the same artificial speech, district after district. The knot of discomfort in her stomach only transformed into a certain excitement on the way to District 4. The return home was getting closer each day, but one of the few places she was curious to discover was near too now. When the landscape transformed from vast meadows and other more arid areas to a steep terrain cut by water, it was not enough for Katniss to stick as close to the glass as she could to appreciate it.

"Incredible, isn't it?" She heard Haymitch ask her, though she didn't even turn to look at him.

She was too concentrated trying to understand the presence of that mass of dark blue water, which rocked against the cliffs without mercy, without rest. When she looked at her mentor, she found he was smiling slightly, and, unintentionally, she imitated him. Thankfully, there was something that provoked some kind of feeling in him too, something other than alcohol or anger.

"Where does it end?," she asked out loud, although she wasn't expecting any answer, she was just impressed by it.

After all, she had learned what was necessary in geography classes, she had never been such a bad student that she didn't know how oceans worked, even if her problems were more important than a failed exam.

"I doubt anyone knows what lies beyond," Haymitch answered.

The truth was that its size seemed overwhelming. This was what Finnick called home, she thought, keeping her eyes on the outside. How different would it be to swim in the sea compared to the lake in 12? It already seemed immense to her, although now she had something to compare it to, it wasn't so huge. The District 4 courthouse wasn't close enough to see the waves, but the air smelled different there. It was something Katniss had not expected, no matter how obvious it was. 12 smelled of smoke, coal and fresh grass as you walked away from the mines, while District 4 had a salty scent wafting through the air and almost sticking to your skin in a very unusual way. She didn't have much time to think about it, nor to sneak off to the beach as she would have liked: she had another afternoon of speeches and dinner with a mayor until she got back on the train again.

When it was her time to take the stage, the monotonous expression she had adopted in other districts suddenly faltered. They had prepared some platforms for the families, just like in the others, but upon recognizing Estee's parents, a woman with the same golden hair as their daughter, the rest of her family, and other boys with their parents, surely Robin's family, she had to blink several times to walk to the microphone. She wished she could say she was sorry for their loss, not that they had been a source of pride for their district and now had eternal glory. She thought of 11 and she hoped her gaze fixed on both families and a small nod would make them understand the words she couldn't pronounce. She knew Finnick would be somewhere, listening not far away, or so she hoped, but no matter how much she scanned the audience she couldn't find him. It was Haymitch, later on, when they were about to return to the train, who reminded her of him.

"You'll see your friend at the Capitol," he commented nonchalantly. "Although I still haven't decided which is better, being seen with him or not."

Katniss stopped at the step that would take her onto the carriage. Was that why he hadn't made an appearance? If she thought about it, it didn't seem very professional on his part and she wasn't in the best mood either. It wasn't a vacation, but an extended torture that was keeping her away from home.

"Will he put you in danger if he gets involved with you? Or can it make you seem closer if you appear there with him? What vision would we give?"

Was it a question? Katniss's mouth went a little dry. If she thought of herself as a character, as they all were, then she could also take advantage of it. She could if she was the girl on fire, not Katniss from District 12. Maybe she would seem more immersed in the world of the Capitol that way.

"What did he tell you at the Coronation? When you went around there with him, what did you talk about?"

Katniss stepped inside but stared at him. For someone immersed in his thoughts and bad habits, Haymitch was a more observant person than he appeared. For a second, she felt a pang of guilt in her stomach. She had judged him long before she had met him, maybe she still did sometimes, because of how he behaved.

"He told me about what happened to him."

Haymitch barely frowned, as if he expected it.

"You know what's at stake, then. After everything you've seen so far."

Katniss looked down a little and noticed him putting a hand on her shoulder. It was obvious he didn't know how to comfort her that well, but he tried. She was comforted by the gesture, knowing he was there, that there was someone looking out for her who wasn't her family and that he knew what her life was like now.

"Everyone is going to want to talk to you, just like that day," he explained. "We're so close, you just have to keep it up, Katniss. We're almost done."

She nodded and tried to smile. She had the impression that actually everything had just begun.

Chapter Text

Her reception at the Capitol for the Victory tour was even more striking than the feast she had had as a winner. The cold didn't exist inside Snow's mansion, nor did boredom or hunger. Showing off their impressive technology, they had recreated a starry night on the roof, there were several performances to liven up the night and all the drinks and food Katniss could imagine were in abundance. After a short interview, she had been introduced dozens of times, exchanging names, professions, unwanted kisses on the cheek and many photos in her path. She had come across several people wearing a copy of her mockingjay pin or a braid similar to the one she used to wear, which had made her feel more horrified than flattered.

She had to try to hide how much she rejected all of this the best she could, along with the attention they were paying to her, which was too intense for her liking. The dress Cinna had designed for her was helping a little, though. In intense red and black tones, the shoulder pads look like feathers, along with an embroidered bodice and black tulle that fell down to the floor in the skirt. It was a clear nod to the mockingjay, but she also felt close to wearing some kind of armor. After being left somewhat alone, she allowed herself to grab a drink. Just one, which she justified as being useful for remaining calm.

She was walking away from the waiter who had served her the drink, her gaze darting between several groups of people, when he saw him approaching, right in front of her. Finnick was already holding back a smile, perhaps even before she had spotted him. He appeared to be too shirtless for Katniss, too unbuttoned no matter how hot it was inside, although she guessed he was used to that attire.

"You look spectacular. Very fierce."

There was something about the way he looked at her that made her blush immediately. And her, she was still standing there, almost unable to believe he was truly there, after months of nothing but his voice on the phone. She looked at him in silence, rather amazed at herself for thinking he looked very elegant, tanned and well...pretty handsome too. She took a step forward, intending to hug him, perhaps, or greeting him in some way that wasn't so cold and impersonal, but she stopped dead when she remembered they were being watched.

"Finnick," she greeted, keeping a safe distance. "You don't look...very bad either."

His hair was shining and suddenly his green eyes were intimidating. Why was she feeling so awkward about it? Maybe it was because they hadn't seen each other for a long time.

"Have you eaten?"

Katniss shook her head a little and followed him, looking for something to grab among the table with different appetizers.

"Try the salmon one."

She imitated him and chewed one with little enthusiasm, until she realized that it was quite good and gave him a slight smile. She noticed that not far from the two of them someone was looking up in their direction. Or maybe she was too paranoid.

"No hiding this time?" she asked him in a whisper.

Finnick discreetly turned around and shook his head a little, looking amused.

"I can already imagine the headlines: Finnick Odair seduces the Girl on Fire."

Katniss took a sip from her glass and raised her eyebrows.

"Or the other way around."

"Maybe. With that dress...I would let you."

The comment, equally unexpected and embarrassing, made her blush again. She had almost forgotten how he liked to tease her. Finnick laughed as he noticed her disgusted expression.

"How was 4?"

"Interesting."

"Interesting. Come on, Everdeen, you can do better than that."

Katniss breathed a little and tried not to look around her. What difference did it make what they thought? It was the first time on the entire tour she could feel a little safer, at least being with someone she knew other than Cinna or Haymitch.

"It's a different world, and the smell of the sea... it stays inside you, somehow" she admitted. "It's strange."

"Yeah, it's the best feeling in the world. It was a bad time to see you, you know? But I was there."

"I imagined. It wasn't...a good day for that."

It wouldn't have been the greatest idea and she didn't feel like seeing anyone either. She had gone from one district to another with the sole motivation of getting to the Capitol as soon as possible and returning home for the last celebration.

"I know, I've heard what happened. Next time, we could go swimming."

Katniss frowned.

"Next time? There's no way they'll let me go anywhere again."

"We're winners, the rules are a little different for us. You can take a train if you want, although you need to ask for permission."

"That easy?"

"Not really, I mean the paperwork is a bore, but Johanna and I visit each other from time to time anyway." Katniss remembered him mentioning it before. "They were only quite insistent the first time. They followed me to her house to see if what I had declared I would do was true."

And what would she do in 4? What would she say to her family? Still, the idea was appealing. On the other hand, imagining Finnick in District 12 seemed absurd to even picture.

"It'd be nice," she whispered.

«Even if it doesn't seem very likely to me after what happened in 11», she didn't say. Like Finnick, she had some more bites now that she was regaining her appetite.

"Well…and life at home? I've seen your family before you left on TV, there were a lot of people saying goodbye."

Yes, and it had been a bit overwhelming, moving and at the same time very sad.

"We're ok. I don't know, it's strange to be that calm," she explained, with a small smile. "We've been living day to day for years, now we have to find what to do with our lives."

Finnick turned to look at her.

"And your father's consultation?"

Katniss' smile grew with surprise. Finnick remembered everything, it seemed.

"He's just opened it at home. Prim can study now too. She doesn't have to worry about whether we're going to have something to eat tomorrow or not, and I...I'm not doing much. I go out for runs."

"So someone is listening to me," Finnick commented, also pleased.

"It worked. Now I think I'll teach my friend Madge how to shoot, it'll clear us both up."

"Associating that bow with another environment is smart."

"it should've been your idea, right?" Katniss joked. "Don't you have anything new to tell me?"

Finnick shook his head, still smiling.

"No, and I hope it stays that way. I prefer a boring life these days. I admit it keeps me entertained when you call."

As he said it, Katniss turned and looked into his eyes as well. For a moment, what made her feel warmer was his presence next to her and not the drink. That was the feeling she wanted to treasure.

"You're not so bad, Finnick Odair. Once one gets to know you..."

"Once one gets to know you," Finnick repeated, laughing. "If you keep talking like that, you're not going to seduce me, Everdeen."

"A loss I won't be able to bear."

When they fell silent, Katniss noticed the soft music slowed down even more and someone began to address everyone.

"Must be the fireworks," Finnick said. "You should go out and see them, they're in your honor."

Katniss imitated him although as they moved, she noticed Finnick separating himself from her.

"Where are you going?"

"I'll be around, I can't monopolize you all night. I'll see you later," he promised, then squeezed her shoulders lightly before leaving.

Katniss made her way outside following the others, with Haymitch in her sights. She watched, intrigued and a little uncomfortable with so much noise around every time those fireworks, or whatever they were called, exploded. As the sky turned blue, green, and many other colors, among the stars, she pondered if she was becoming dependent on him. She didn't trust anyone other than Finnick, Haymitch or Cinna, not there, the others were mere strangers and only meant danger. The crowd began to cheered and applaud when they finished, although Katniss reserved her praise for something more important. Had she been there, Prim would have thought they were beautiful, but her heart was still pounding. It was stupid to be afraid of something supposedly designed for entertainment, but the people of the Capitol had never had to hear a cannon shot in the Arena, of course. She just clapped a few times and smiled at Cinna, who had appeared right next to her.

"Katniss, I'd like to introduce you to Sylvie."

A young woman, with dark skin as beautiful as Cinna's, darker than her own, stepped forward to shake her hand. The enormous headdress she wore and the heavy makeup threw her off but Katniss realized right away she knew her face. She was one of the singers on the show that Prim liked so much.

"Nice to meet you."

"Oh, dear," she murmured, still holding her hand. "You were so brave and generous, saving your sister like that. They must be very proud of you at home."

"They are."

"Tell me, how do you like it here? You must be amazed."

She felt a certain urge to laugh, but she managed a smile that surely seemed somewhat fake.

"It's very... special," she managed to say.

Out of the corner of her eye, Cinna seemed to be holding back a smile, which made his own a little more natural.

"Would you mind signing an autograph for me? It'd make Prim very happy."

The woman smiled delightedly, as if she had been given the greatest compliment in the world. She assured her she would do it immediately and they would send it to the train so she called her agent, who was following her as if he were a servant and she disappeared into the crowd.

"Are you alright?" Cinna asked her.

"Yes," she told him sincerely. "I'm quite comfortable."

They both knew well that Katniss wasn't just talking about the dress. Cinna nodded slightly and stood by her side while more curious people approached to try to introduce themselves or congratulate her, names and faces she would barely remember in a few minutes. She paid as much attention as she could and also watched discreetly from a distance at Finnick, who moved from one group to another effortlessly, speaking, listening and laughing with an ease completely foreign to her. Neither of them crossed paths again until the party was already dying down and Katniss found an empty stool at the bar from which she watched Haymitch dying of laughter with 11's mentor, Chaff. At least they had had a happy night without any further incidents. Finnick appeared out of nowhere, a little more disheveled than before, and a little short of breath as well.

"Am I too late?," he asked. "I hadn't noticed, but I'm sure you'll be leaving any moment now."

Katniss rolled up her sleeves to check the time on her wrist watch.

"We have to be on the train by one."

"Can I walk you?"

She got up.

"Sure."

Finnick spared her mentor a look before leaving, to which he nodded a little and followed her.

"Were you having a good time?" Katniss asked him. "I've seen you very busy before."

Although they were already leaving the mansion behind and the lighting outside, towards the train tracks, was dim, she noticed that Finnick's eyes were shining slightly.

"It was better than other nights. I shouldn't have drunk so much, I think."

Katniss didn't even want to think about what kind of nights he had experienced before in the Capitol, so she figured if he had gone a little overboard, he couldn't blame him if he felt like it. Katniss smiled slightly.

"So, you're a happy drunk?"

Finnick looked back at her in confusion.

"Huh?"

"Haymitch's a sad drunk. I'm not judging him either," she clarified. "You don't seem like it."

"I suppose not…what about you?"

"I have no experience with that."

Just with the glass and a half she had drank that night she noticed each step was lighter but it wasn't like her head was spinning or anything similar. That was enough.

"Following your theory, I think you would get even grumpier."

"Probably," Katniss admitted, and they both couldn't help but laugh.

"I didn't know you were a fan of reality shows. I've seen Sylvie Vanon with you."

"Not really, it's because of Prim."

"Sure?" Finnick stopped walking. "If I remember correctly Estee asked you to sing once, for the mockingjays. And you're a mockingjay, aren't you?"

Katniss felt a pang in her chest at the same time as Finnick's smile faltered as he became of the memory he had unearthed. For a few seconds the silence was heavy, but Katniss composed herself and rolled her eyes before walking away.

"I don't sing."

"What a liar, you've turned red and everything."

"I don't know any happy songs, Finnick. It would ruin the mood."

She wasn't even lying about that.

"If you watch the program, you must know some songs, c'mon."

"Remind me not to talk to you again when you've been drinking," Katniss protested under her breath, which only served to make Finnick insist and insist again without stopping walking.

As much as she wanted to, Katniss was unable to contain the smile that crept onto her face. It would be months before she saw him again, in even worse circumstances, in her first games as a mentor, and she thought that at least she could go home with another good memory, when Finnick was already breaking into song.

She stopped dead when she heard him, somewhat surprised because he sounded better than she'd imagined and was also very amusing to watch, since he was exaggerating every gesture. When she resumed walking, still singing, Katniss followed him singing lightly, but loud enough for Finnick to look just as close.

"I knew you could sing. Why else would you refuse?"

"You can sing too, Finnick."

He smiled smugly.

"Of course, everything I do I do well."

They were already at the station, almost deserted except for a couple of workers at the entrance who didn't even blink when they saw them enter. It was getting colder, but not even that bothered her now. It had been a good idea for him to accompany her there. They advanced to the train with Finnick already silent, but still smiling.

"You're not just a happy drunk, you also turn very annoying, you know that?"

Finnick shrugged, as if he didn't care in the slightest.

"They've told me before. Should we wait for Haymitch?"

Katniss nodded, and they advanced to the door of her carriage.

"Next time we meet I'll be a mentor, with Haymitch." At least she wouldn't be alone, which was a relief. "Will we be…enemies?"

Finnick looked down a little.

"Something like that. But we both know who the enemy is. I'm sure you'll do the best you can," he encouraged her. "Sometimes it's the only thing we can do, try."

"Sometimes that's enough," Katniss spoke.

It had been, with her.

"And I'm glad," Finnick said, with a smile more sincere and less tipsy than the previous ones. She liked that about him, that he could cheer her up, laugh at her expense and know when to get serious at the same time. "Because it has given me a friend."

Katniss took a step forward and, without thinking much, gave him the hug with which she should have greeted him upon seeing him. Finnick wrapped his arms around her tighter than expected and when she pulled away from him he looked content.

"Next time I see you, you'll have to buy me some cake for your birthday. It's getting close."

He once again left her speechless.

"Who told you when my birthday is?"

"Dear, I know everything before you do, haven't you noticed already?"

«There are a lot of things you don't know, Finnick Odair. I don't even know what they mean yet», she thought. She didn't know what to feel about that new life under a microscope, or what make of him, of that unexpected friendship, of how he was able to turn around such a horrible trip in a single night. It was easy to feel guilty about it, to think she didn't deserve a little moment of celebration, but the guilt was corrosive and would get her nowhere. «We both know who the enemy is», indeed. She was only doing her best given the circumstances.

"I guess so. Do you also know that it's my eighteenth birthday?"

"Obviously. A special day."

"We could eat something, yeah. When I see you...when is your birthday, anyway?" she asked him.

Katniss began counting in her head. He had to be 23 years old, if she was counting right from the year of his games.

"In the summer, there's still a long way."

"I could say you owe me a cake for this summer, then," Katniss replied.

It was Finnick who rolled his eyes that time.

"As you wish, Everdeen."

They settled the deal by shaking hands, although for a moment it seemed more like they were holding them. Katniss smiled and climbed into the carriage. It was time to go home.

Chapter Text

All the gifts Katniss had been given, the flowers and jewelry, everything was piled up on the living room's table. Most of them would be useless to her in 12, but she couldn't reject them because it would be another unpleasant gesture on her part, something inconsiderate and dangerous. At least last night they had had the last feast of the tour in her district as a final stop and everyone had had dinner. They had also kept the rest of the provisions that were left over, so it was not all disadvantages. Next to her, Prim was resting her head on her shoulder, with Buttercup in her lap, purring pleasantly.

"Which district did you like the most?"

Katniss didn't make any gesture that could worry her, she just continued resting besides her. Prim didn't know how dangerous life had become overnight, at least not like she did, and if she knew, they could pretend it wasn't like that yet. She could still be a girl, up to a certain point. Katniss smiled slightly trying to get anything positive out of it.

"Four. The sea is beautiful, but it also looks quite scary," she explained.

"And Sylvie Vanon? What is she like in person?"

Prim had spent a good time looking once and again at the picture of the singer with her autograph, as if she couldn't believe it really existed. That had also made her feel a little happy for her.

"She's very kind and she's as pretty as she's on tv."

"You're not going to leave again, are you?" her sister asked, her voice sounding anxious.

Katniss pulled away from her to look at her for a moment.

"Of course not, not until the next Games."

"Haymitch could do it himself," she complained. "He's been doing it for ages."

"Well. There are usually two mentors."

"He's enough," Prim insisted. "He brought you home, didn't he?"

She was right, Katniss thought, before pressing her against her shoulder again. She could only hope to achieve that one day, to bring someone back. After all, Haymitch had been doing the same thing year after year for too long, and only very shortly with Michael at his side.

"I understand that you don't have a choice. It's because you saved me and won."

Katniss stroked her hair a little.

"It's no one's fault, Prim. I wanted to go and now this is what I have to do. We don't have to worry about anything else, you know?"

She was aware Prim would understand that: hunger, poverty, the lack of anything would never be present in their lives again. Still, that wouldn't make up for the disadvantages of being a winner anyway. She was still holding Prim when her sister's cat, only acting as an angel with her, decided to jump in, almost digging her nails into Katniss' leg.

"Buttercup!" Prim scolded him. "Sorry."

She immediately ran after him, so Katniss got up too and went to see what her father was doing upstairs, almost unfazed. There were worse things in life than a devilish cat, she had almost missed him, even. Since Katniss had left, his father had already started setting up the consultation, although none had had the to talk about it.

"How is it going?" She asked him, appearing at the entrance to his office.

His father gave her a slight smile from the armchair, looking at some papers.

"Quite well. Many things that would be easily solved by having something to eat or to take away the pain," he explained, a bit tired. "There are fewer malnourished children. It might have to do with your supplies."

Katniss liked to think she had contributed to it. As soon as she had been proclaimed winner they had given tessera to the entire District and it was already showing.

"If I can do something about it, no one is going to starve."

"Do you know Haymitch is already donating to the Seam every month?"

Katniss looked at him with a strange expression.

"I've spoken to Madge's father. He says that both him and Michael were the ones who refurbished the entire school a few years ago."

Katniss listened in silence, surprised, but at the same time feeling comforted. There were many more things to do than feed people, other ways to help for the future to come. In any case, to have a future one had to eat.

"He hadn't told me, but it's good to know he has money for something else than alcohol."

"Katniss."

"I'm sorry. I understand…I understand why he does it, now," she admitted, lowering her voice. "I haven't even started doing what he's been doing for decades and I get it."

"You're going to do everything you can for those kids, I'm sure."

"It's not the only thing that worries me. The Capitol is...another world, they are so disconnected from reality, dad." She didn't want to reveal too much, but at the same time, she knew they shared the same opinions. Besides, the microphone was still there somewhere. "You can't just be the quiet girl from Twelve there."

"I guess it's not easy to sell," her father muttered.

Not easy to consume, Katniss thought with a shiver.

"I'm going to be here for a long time," she tried to smile. "I'm seeing Madge later too. After lunch."

Her father got up and walked past her.

"Where are you going?"

Going down the stairs, she didn't even have to answer him, as she arrived at the entrance and showed him the bow, waiting for her to pick it up later, already prepared.

"Really?"

She shrugged her shoulders.

"She wants me to teach her."

"Don't tell her father, then."

"Don't do it either."

The path to the meadow became shorter in the afternoon, now that Madge also had some idea of how to get there. She no longer had to stop for her to remember it, although she couldn't stop her from admiring every single step and view.

"It's heavier than it looks," Katniss warned her friend the first time she picked up the bow. "You should familiarize yourself with it first."

She watched Madge trying to take its weight, while she gave her a disappointed look.

"Aren't you going to let me shoot?"

"Today?" she almost laughed. "Don't even think about it."

"You make it seem so much easier."

She stood up, almost sighing.

"Okay, look at me," she ordered.

After she saw her in the same position several times, she reminded her to pay attention to the arms, shoulders, and the position of her legs. It was more a matter of practice, but there was also some technique to bear in mind.

"My shoulders already hurt from carrying it," Madge admitted, with a small huff.

"You'll get used to it. It took me a while too."

Madge practiced her stance a little more and in the end. Katniss shot some arrows for her to observe. They only did it for a while longer, they lay down in the meadow to chat a bit and when it seemed like it was going to get dark they headed back to civilization.

"How was the tour?" Madge asked her on their way.

The truth was that they hadn't talked much the night before, it wasn't an appropriate time to discuss it, anyway.

"Very long. Everything was too forced and uncomfortable," she admitted, "I mean, having to see their faces…"

Although she dropped what she was saying halfway through, she knew Madge would understand what she meant and wouldn't pressure her to say anything else.

"I'm glad it's over."

"They'll forget about me next year, it always happens."

Katniss wasn't quite sure if she meant it or if she was saying it to comfort herself. Before separating from her, Madge looked at her with a small smile of encouragement:

"Why don't you come home with Prim tomorrow? We can watch a movie."

"Sure."

That would be good for her. It would help her relax and adjust back to her home, and also help Prim regain some sense of normality. When she was getting home, already in the middle of the Victor's Village, she noticed Haymitch's light was on. She left the bow by the door without much thought and knocked on the door. It took a long time for her mentor to open the door and when he did, he received her with a long face.

"What's is it?"

"Can I come in?"

"I literally brought you home yesterday. Can you leave me alone?" he asked her.

Despite sounding half exasperated, his tone made her smile a little.

"No, I can't," she answered, inviting herself in.

She had never been to Haymitch's house before, but it looked pretty much like hers, only emptier. What caught her attention the most about it was that it looked too clean and tidy.

"What are you looking at?"

"It smells nice."

Haymitch laughed and sank onto the couch.

"I haven't been here for weeks. Hazelle does a damn good job."

"No kidding," Katniss murmured to herself. "I've been thinking about some things. Our kids don't win because they are starving. They are too thin, too weak. It's impossible to fight like this."

"Our kids," Haymitch repeated.

"Now they are."

He was silent for a moment, somewhat more serious.

"I haven't noticed it at all these years."

Katniss ignored his comment and continued pacing the room.

"They're going to eat very well this year thanks to me. They should continue like this for a long time thanks to us."

"You know how to do it. If you want to donate to everyone so badly...I see it too, Katniss. If they have a better life they will be better prepared, I know that."

"We're not a careers' district and we'll never be," she acknowledged.

"But you're not very far off. I'll keep it in mind. Anything else?"

Katniss shook her head, which caused Haymitch to slap his knee and quickly stand up.

"Come on, now. I need to sleep for a lot of hours in a row."

He followed her to her door, encouraging her to leave.

"You're invited to eat on Sunday, don't forget. My father wants you to remember."

They were making it a tradition, at least with the Hawthorne's, and Katniss thought it was nice her father was trying to extend it to Haymitch as well. She also thought of him as someone close now.

"I'll go, you don't need to make sure I'm still alive. I take care of you, not the other way around. Good night, sweetheart."

Chapter Text

Twenty-three

Life usually got even harder in District Twelve once the cold reappeared. Katniss hadn’t experienced much of the fall that year since she had been away for the tour, but it hadn’t been as harsh as winter was starting to be. This was a different season, though, the first in which she didn’t have to starve, freeze to death trying to hunt, or hold Prim closer at night to keep warm. Seeing her and her father taken care of so well made her feel proud, safe and much calmer that she had ever been before. Nonetheless, she didn’t know what to do with herself now.

Spending time with her family was the easy and most enjoyable choice. Talking to Haymitch had become a habit too, but only on his bearable days. Sometimes she would play with Michael’s grandkid or Gale’s siblings, but she didn’t think she was entertaining enough for that. She didn’t quite know what to do with kids anyway. Archery lessons with Madge hadn’t lasted very long either because of the rain, it was also getting colder each day and she didn’t want to make her father suspicious with all their also suspiciously long walks. So, that day, a simple stroll around the forest would have to do to keep her restlessness at bay.

She still had a nightmare here and there, sometimes only once a twice a month. She could deal with that, but the weather worsened her mood, it had always been like that, even before everything. She had decided she had to stick to her walks, her occasional hunt with Gale or her time alone in the forest or she would suffocate inside the house. A pang of guilt burned in her chest realizing she would feel worse once the Reaping got close again. God. What was she going to do with those poor kids? She could survive the winter, the thoughts and the uneasiness of not knowing what her life was going to be like from then on, but she wasn’t ready for the burden of having other people’s life in her hands. Kids and teenagers she had known all her life.

The soil was a bit wet and something minty hanged in the air, while the cold caressed her cheeks. Katniss’ nose was already frozen and her hands were a bit stiff too even under her good pair of gloves. It seemed like it was going to start snowing soon, so she decided not to go so far as to the lake for this time. It was starting to get dark outside anyway and Prim was probably back home from seeing the Hawthornes, so she might as well return too. Her dad would wonder where she was, considering she had not really explained what she would do for the afternoon.

Katniss was almost getting close to her old house when she noticed something out of the ordinary. Everything had been quiet and still around her, nothing but nature and her sole presence when the trace of smoke cut the sky. It was not too far from her and, more concerning, it didn’t seem like a fire from chimneys. No one in Twelve would dare light anything so close to the fences in case they got caught, she quickly thought. She immediately regretted not carrying her bow but her instinct was to look nonetheless. She knew it was too careless to even snoop around, but she decided to approach whoever might have started the fire.

Walking slowly and having a look at where she stepped, she peered behind a tree to find two figures around a small bonfire. They were wearing Peacemaker uniforms, but too big for them. These people, two women, one probably just a girl judging by her size, she discovered looking again, didn’t resemble Capitol people at all. The younger one suddenly stood up limping before she looked straight ahead at her, and stopped, too stunned. When the other followed, opened her mouth and saw her crooked teeth, she felt a shiver down her spine. She should’ve started running, she didn’t need to know whatever was going on there, but she stood there anyway, too frozen to move. She was a hunter. She was a survivor. A murderer too. Then, why wasn’t she running back? Katniss decided to rise her arms calmly and show her hands so she could prove she wasn’t armed.

“What are you doing with that?” She asked, shooting a glance at the ashes. She sounded almost angry, she wasn’t sure where she had gathered the feeling but it would be good to try and appear less spooked than she actually was.

“You…” the younger one started to say, “you are…”

Katniss cut them off while keeping her distance.

“Who are you?”

The older one sent a look to the girl and moved her arms calmly too.

“My name’s Twill and that’s Bonnie. We’re from Eight.”

Katniss frowned, not too convinced.

“That’s very far. How did you get here?”

“Walking.”

She looked at both for a moment and considered it. The boots the girl was wearing were definitely too big for her, that could be why she was limping. They also looked quite disheveled, exactly like someone who had run away. Eight was a textile industry district and they could’ve stolen those clothes to escape. Maybe they were telling the truth. In any case, why did she care? Why had she stopped to find out? She still felt the danger of it all closing her throat.

“Where are you going then?”

“We’re trying to get to Thirteen.”

Katniss almost chuckled.

“Thirteen? They’ve been gone for decades.”

“You don’t know, Katniss?”

The mention of her name tensed her whole body. Of course, they had recognized her face, but what could these two random women knew she wasn’t aware of? She’d got back home from the tour not so long ago, she had seen it all.

“There’s been an uprising in Eight.”

“How is that possible?” she found herself asking out loud.

Katniss continued to feel more startled with every word, while Twill explained who they were and what had happened. They were a teacher and her pupil, there had been a plan to take over the Justice Building at their District, since they somehow also got word of what had happened in Eleven. Could this be happening in other places?, Katniss wondered. She actually didn’t know a single thing about what was happening in the rest of Panem, just like the Capitol wanted. The possibility seemed scary, like something she didn’t want to be involved in. She had enough with all the craziness she had found out about in the Games. Ignorance was bliss, indeed.

“What are you going to do in Thirteen if you get there?” Katniss asked, feeling less scared to approach them, but wary about the information she was getting. “There’s nothing there. They always show it.”

“Every year in the Reaping, yes. That’s exactly the thing.” Twill said, now sitting again. “It’s the same footage, every single time. Pay attention next time and you’ll see. They can’t show anything new because that would mean showing the world tell the truth.”

That they weren’t truly destroyed? And how they would’ve survived? The chances seemed more than slim.

“They used to be miners, right?”

“They were in charge of nuclear development,” Bonnie corrected.

Katniss’ heart was beating quickly. What the hell were they hoping for, then? Their help to blow up the Capitol? She had already stayed more that she should have and she could never be found with two people escaping especially now she was a winner. She stepped back a little and looked inside her jacket until she found something she could offer. Their story sounded far-fetched but she had a feeling they were convinced of what they were saying.

“Good luck.” She tended them a piece of bread, a roll she hadn’t eaten during her walk and offered a tense smile. “I have to go.”

“Katniss.” Twill called before she could start walking back. “We were very impressed by you. A lot of people are.”

What does that even mean?, she couldn’t avoid thinking all the way back. She didn’t stop, turn back or investigate anything else, just walked so fast she almost run, her thoughts jumping at the most insane conclusions. By the time she got to the entrance she was almost dizzy, but she still heard the sound of a buzz coming from the fence.

“Shit,” she muttered. Why was it on? It was never on.

The air was getting icy now. She couldn’t go further and look for another way to go back or it would be completely dark. Night wasn’t a good time to wander around Twelve. The only solution she could think of was to get as up as she could in the closest tree and descend from there. It was insane to try but everything had turned insane in an instant that day so she did what she had to do: climb, close her eyes and jump to the ground, hoping to go over the enclosure. Hitting the ground was painful enough to make her emit a small cry, now she was the one limping, all the way to the Victors’ Village.

To complicate matters even more her dad was in the kitchen, right by the entrance, as she opened the main door. She couldn’t hide her pain right then, let alone keep it from him.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, approaching her instantly.

“I had to jump to pass.” She explained. “They’ve just electrified it.”

This was the farewell to her afternoons in solitude. No more hunting with Gale either, no more escaping for those who dared venturing to find whatever they could pass as food for their starving families.

Benton was very quick to find to something to apply to her already swollen ankle and run back to the kitchen. Katniss still felt the uneasiness in her stomach more than the pain in her foot. She had to tell someone and her dad had always been the safest option. She would talk to Haymitch for starters but not that day, and Finnick…well, she could not say such things over the phone.

“Something very weird happened in the woods.” She confessed, almost out of breath. He raised his gaze as soon as she heard. “I saw two women there.”

“Hunters?”

“They weren’t from Twelve, dad.”

That didn’t seem to surprise him much, she noticed.

“Runaways, then? That does sound strange, and during winter here in Twelve. It can’t end well for them.”

She had seen two people got caught once, from a distance, returning from a day hunting with Gale, but she had never interacted with any. It felt different this time. She almost hoped they were wrong because that would mean not having to care about yet another piece of information she shouldn’t been aware of.

“It’s just…” She turned her gaze, contemplated it and then mouthed her dad to turn anything that could be noisy on. “They told me they were going to Thirteen. District Thirteen.”

Just after turning on the extractor hood from their kitchen, her father watched her in silence, clearly taken aback.

“There is no such thing as Thirteen.”

“I know. At least not anymore.”

He paced around a little while Katniss continued talking about what she knew: the revolt, the issues in Eleven during the tour, the repeated footage they had mentioned…He kept quiet, until he looked at her with a grave expression on his face.

“You know why the accident in the mines happened?”

The one in which he had almost died, clearly.

“It was an accident. They blew up something they shouldn’t have”, she responded. It was a painful memory for everyone, of course she knew.

“That’s what they said.”

If she could have moved, she would have right there. Her mouth was a bit dry hearing it.

“You don’t think so?”, she asked, more than surprised.

“We used to talk about these kind of things. Down there. If it would be possible to do…anything at all.”

“So, they may not be lying?”

“I don’t know, Katniss.” Her father sounded exhausted and also a little scared. “Even if it’s true, how do these revolts end up every time? Try not to think about it. It’s not…there’s nothing we can do about it.”

Nothing good could come of it, she agreed with her dad about that. It was too risky, too difficult. But what if.., a small part of her asked, what if is possible to break it all?

Chapter Text

Twenty-four

A sprained ankle was just one small concern for Katniss. The worst part was that the fences had been more electrified than ever before and many of the guards were also changed gradually in the following days. The routine they had always followed to escape was of no use now, all the names of those who turned a blind eye or who did not even patrol. Katniss guessed the two women she had encountered in the woods were in the right, after all. Something had to be truly going on for things to change, especially in Twelve, which no one ever cared about. What would they need new Peacemakers for? There was something off about it all, but, for the time being, there was nothing to do and at least she had enough money now to feed herself and all the Hawthornes without turning to hunting.

What was making her feel even more restless was being confined at home. She was already doing a little bit better a week later, but her father had insisted on her resting until she was fully recovered. In any case, there was not much to do outside because of the weather and she did not feel like it either, being honest. She had to content herself with a short walk to the bakery, Madge's visits or a quick call to check Haymitch was still breathing.

That afternoon, right after lunch, Katniss lay on the couch, almost dozing off. From time to time she looked over at Prim, who was reading some kind of paper, and sat across from her and their father. She even looked too invested, Katniss decided, since her sister did not skip the page for a while. After noticing, she stood up a bit.

"What are you reading?" she asked, letting out a small yawn.

"A magazine. It's Mary's."

"Is it any good?"

Prim just shrugged.

"Not really."

Not really, but her eyes were stuck to the page, still. What was that about?

"Where does she get those from?" she wondered.

"Her dad is the train station chief." Benton reminded. "They get stuff delivered from the Capitol."

Of course, but Katniss did not care much about whatever business they had. Now she wanted to see what Prim was looking at since she was slowly turning red.

"And?" she insisted.

"And… what?"

"Well, what are you so embarrassed of?"

She could not resist a sly smile but all intention to laugh at her expense died when she noticed her little smile falter.

"There's a piece about you", Prim finally spoke.

"The tour was a while ago", Katniss tried to reason, although her throat closed with every word.

She could not phantom the idea of thousands of strangers looking at something like that, dissecting her and her life, admiring her victory, or…maybe even desiring her. She did not wish to be perceived, as simply as that. She had already had enough of that in the Games.

"It's not exactly that. It's a special feature, but it's just gossiping, I..."

"Okay," their dad suddenly said, "let us see, then."

But Prim did not move. She had closed the magazine and was clutching to it while she grimaced.

"You don't really want to see it."

Katniss's impatience was growing, as was her concern. None of it was Prim's fault, it was the Capitol's ability to haunt her from far away what she despised. It seemed like it would not ever let her go.

"If I'm in it, I do."

Prim just extended her arm and handed her the magazine, with a quick look to their father, full of nervousness.

Katniss read the headline, wide-eyed as she advanced:

Finnick Odair and Katniss Everdeen, new couple in sight?

Her heart started beating faster and the shock made it impossible to read anything else. She continued grabbing the magazine, too stunned, her eyes jumping from one picture to the other. Some were just her at the party, with Cinna, Haymitch, and other people she was introduced to. However, they mainly talked, as she skimmed through it all, about a mysterious woman walking outside with Finnick Odair. Somehow, they had managed to take a couple of pictures of them while they went back to the station but they were too far to spot if it was actually her. Katniss could not do anything else but stare, as she noticed her dad standing behind her, scanning the pages too.

How many people had seen it? How many from Twelve knew? she thought, partly horrified. They would assume this was what she did while there: mingle, flirt, become one of them. But, at the same time…Finnick was not them. He was not Capitol no matter what image they tried to impose on him. At least, she was not embarrassed by that.

"I told her it could not be you," Prim said, raising her voice. "I mean, she's wearing a red dress, but…it doesn't really look like you."

It doesn't feel like me, Katniss thought, looking at the pictures, but it was her. She looked way too cheerful to be true and anybody who knew her would be able to notice the difference.

"Do you even know Finnick Odair?" Benton asked.

Katniss nodded quietly and gave Prim the magazine back while trying not to shake. She was almost certain she had gone pale too.

"Sure, he was Estee's mentor. But that can't be me."

"Oh." The sole mention of Estee was enough to make them all stiffen, which she quickly regretted. "I'm sorry."

"Don't worry, Prim. Tell your friend to read something more entertaining next time."

She managed a grin and mumbled an apology about her foot hurting to excuse herself. Looking through the window in her bedroom, she thought of talking to Haymitch at that very moment. What if Snow notices? she thought, along with other impossible scenarios and fears crossing her mind. He couldn't know. What if he found out about the bow? What would he do to her, to Finnick? She didn't want to put the only good thing she had got out of it all in danger too.

She did not mean to spend the whole day worrying about a stupid, frivolous pamphlet, but she did anyway. She had not intended to wait until midnight either as if she had something to hide. It was, simply, that she could not stop going over it again and again. So, she went downstairs and picked up the phone.

It merely rang for some seconds before he replied.

"Hey, Katniss."

Quickly, she spitted it out.

"Have you seen it?"

"I assume you mean that incredible piece of journalism. Took you some days."

"This isn't a joke, Finnick."

He let out a small, strangled laugh.

"Yeah, I'm well aware. You shouldn't worry that much, though."

"How can you say that?"

"The pictures outside are a bit blurry, they can only speculate. And if they do, I'll just go to the Capitol one day, go around with some people and they'll soon forget about it."

The idea made her frown, even if he would not see her.

"You don't need to do that."

"It's not a problem."

She did not like it at all, nothing out of the whole situation. She suspected Finnick was making it sound less serious so it would not disturb her.

"I hate it. I don't need people to assume that…" That we're more than friends. She stopped since she did not want to say it out loud. "What would my dad say? And the people here, they hate…"

"Me," he interrupted. "And the Capitol too, they won't hate you, Katniss."

She shook her head a little and sighed.

"I don't want to avoid you next time I see you. It's not fair."

They would be back for the Games in no time and things were only looking worse. She was almost certain Finnick understood what she meant. She did not want the Capitol to know, or Snow to use that information against them, but they were friends now. She would always be glad to see his face.

"Then don't. It'll be fine"

"I think you're being a little optimistic about this."

"Months will pass and they'll find another scandal. They'll try to get a better picture of us next time, though. You better get prepared for that."

"You're impossible, Finnick."

"Cheer up, Everdeen. It's not the end of the world."

She did not get up after she hung up. Maybe she should listen to Finnick and take it easy, although she was still convinced he was playing it down. She was turning the kettle on when she heard the sound of the door behind her.

"Why are you still up?" She turned and saw her father standing, with a pile of papers in hand and his glasses on.

"I can't sleep. What are you doing?"

"Writing down things I need to buy, doing some inventory."

"I'm brewing something to drink and then I'll go to sleep," she promised.

Her father stepped in anyway and put the papers on the table.

"Can I have a cup, too?"

"Sure."

She walked back to the counter and poured a couple of cups. Then, she sat down.

"Is the ankle still that bad?"

"No, it's a bit better."

"Then, why do you look so worried, Katniss?"

She considered saying that winter was passing quickly. Spring would be there in less than a fortnight and the announcement for the Games would be done. She would soon be back in the Games' dynamic too, until they left in the summer. Mentoring seemed a troubling profession and that would not be a lie. But then, she looked at his grey eyes again and felt defeated.

"It's because of that silly magazine," she murmured.

"I don't think I'm following but, do you want to tell me?"

She nodded and looked down.

"I wasn't honest about it." She confessed. "I'm sorry, I panicked when I saw it."

Her father raised his eyebrows a little.

"It was you, then."

"Yeah."

She played a little with the cup, unable to look at him for a second. She felt her face getting hot.

"It's not what it seems."

"Katniss, you don't need to tell me anything, although I'm concerned about…"

"Stop it, Dad. It's not…he's my friend."

"Finnick Odair is your friend." He repeated, sounding more than surprised. "How does that happen?"

She did not know how to start or where to stop so she decided to give him the safe version.

"He's friends with Haymitch. He was Estee's mentor, so we obviously talked and then he… He helped me out, okay? And I'm not happy being used in bullshit like that so they can twist our friendship."

"I can understand that, Katniss. I guess this is the person you talk to on the phone so much."

She took a sip and tried to calm down.

"Most of the time, yes. I think I'm more worried about…about people finding out we're close. Because they can easily use it to…"

"Wait" her dad suddenly spoke. "Did Finnick send you that bow? You told me the sponsor who sent it to you, you didn't have to worry about it. Was it him?"

She almost smiled. Of course, her dad would put the pieces together. He was smart like that.

"Yes."

"But, why?"

She shrugged.

"He once said he would like to send us all home. He had lost Estee, he likes Haymitch, he must like me for some reason."

"Well, I'm glad you've got a friend there, and if you trust him…"

"He's had a very shitty life, dad. He's not some piece of work like it seems."

"Like when Haymitch mysteriously lost his family," her dad somberly added.

He got it right, again.

"Something like that."

"Alright, then. You should rest" He stood up. "And please, don't ever think I would see you differently because of who you befriend."

Katniss smiled at it while he left, feeling somewhat lighter after the drink and the conversation. Her dad had proven again and again how helpful it was when you had someone you could truly rely on, whatever the situation. She managed to get some hours of sleep, until she was waken, too early for her liking, with incessant knocking on her bedroom's door. What, now? she wanted to scream into the pillow.

"You need to get up." Her father spoke from the other side. "There's an announcement."

"What?" she barely mumbled, still lying.

"Michael and Haymitch are here, c'mon! They're doing it right now."

She pulled the eiderdown to the side and incorporated.

"What do you mean?" she screamed.

"The games, Katniss. I'm talking about the next games!"

Her whole body went cold right after and the shiver in her spine was inevitable. Why now? This was not the time, not the usual one, at least. She quickly put a robe over her pajamas and descended, almost running down the stairs.

When she got to the living room, everybody was already gathered around the television, her father, Michael, Haymitch, and Prim, clearly half-sleep as well.

"What's going on?" she asked. "It's only been...it's still months to go. It's too early."

It was some random Sunday, it did not make any sense. But it was the Capitol, she had to remember, they could do whatever they pleased whenever the time.

"Maybe it's something we should prepare for," Haymitch said, and his gaze revealed an unease that made Katniss get frozen on the spot. "Last Quell was mine. We had double the tributes."

She quickly realized she had completely forgotten about it. It was the 75th anniversary that year. Oh, no. What could be worse than last time? What if they opted for younger participants or maybe older ones? The faces of Prim and her dad, of Gale's siblings flickered through her mind. She ordered herself to stop it and sat down, in between her dad and Prim. They all waited around the TV, holding their breaths, until President Snow appeared waving from his balcony.

His familiar voice startled her, and as soon as she heard his words, the whole universe seemed to stop:

"The male and female tributes are to be reaped from the existing pool of victors."

After that, nothing else mattered.

Chapter Text

Twenty-five

A succession of events followed right away, as fast as a dust of wind through the morning: Prim's cries, realising she was the only female from District Twelve rang in Katniss's ears, Elwood murmured he had to get home quickly as he stumbled and Haymitch's eyes were full of anger. Her father, her poor father, held Prim back and refrained from breaking at the same time.

And her? She stood slowly and opened the front door, letting the cold numb her whole body. She fell to her knees, repeating the instructions to herself. Existing pool of victors. It was not a matter of age anymore, or random misfortune.

She felt the dread in her stomach as she pictured Finnick, alone, throwing the remote across the TV or something worse. Maybe he would go to the ocean and try to drown, just as she should do too. They would avoid all the unnecessary pain that way. They had given their all…and what for? This was their reward.

Later, she would not be able to recall how the day continued. Maybe she had cried and screamed afterward, maybe she hadn't at all. She only remembered following the way to Haymitch's house at some point in the evening and drinking whatever he had not finished before she had got there. Someone must have taken her home because she woke up, at some time of the following day, in her bed.

She lay there, motionless, until time passed and she was sure there was no other sound inside the house. She went down the stairs quietly, just in case, and then she remembered her dad usually walked her sister to school and bought bread on his way back. It was surprising they had resumed their lives, but she was almost glad not to see them. She could not face them now, although she wanted to hug them both tightly. She only hoped Prim was not feeling guilty again. She had volunteered gladly, that was on her.

She stood in the kitchen, confused, not really sure how to operate now. There was one thing she was sure of: there was no way out of it this time. A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts and she asked herself, quite annoyed, who could be looking for her now. When she recognized Haymitch, with the same unkempt hair but at least dressed according to the temperature outside, she frowned. If it was early for anyone else it was definitely too early for him.

"How can you be up?"

"Good morning, sweetheart. I happen to be used to it."

It? What exactly? She wondered if he meant the drinking or the suffering.

"What do you want?"

"You've got anything to eat? I've ran out of it all. Alcohol even, thanks to you."

She had a headache and did not wish to fight so she stood aside and let him in. She prepared coffee in a robotic, not thinking at all way and sat down with two cups and a can full of biscuits. Haymitch had not moved a bit since he had sat down.

"Weeks ago, I met two women in the woods. They told me there was a rebellion in Eight. Do you think…do you think this is punishment?"

Haymitch did not have to reflect on it.

"Surely. It's what he does."

When they looked at each other, they both knew they did not merely mean that uprising. It was what happened in Eleven during the tour, it was Finnick aiding Katniss, her being so adamant about helping other tributes, and a million other things adding up. Everything combined meant something that had gone too far. It could not have ended well. How could she ever think her old life would come back to her?

"How am I going to face you? Or Michael?"

Haymitch looked away.

"I don't know. I'm thinking…I don't know, sweetheart. I'm pretty sure we already had this conversation last night."

Her eyes were still burning a bit, the skin around them too. She definitely did not recall talking about that with her mentor. She had heard her dad cry that night, she did not remember when exactly either, but she wasn't mentally prepared to witness that again anyway.

"Maybe I shouldn't have let Finnick get near us at all." He said as he drowned a biscuit right inside his coffee. "No alliance, no damn bow and arrows. No friend you can't bring yourself to kill now."

Katniss had still not touched a single thing. She was grabbing the mug with all her strength, though.

"If it's him. There are other victors."

"It'll be him. I'm sorry, Katniss. Do you think Snow will miss the opportunity to control him again if he wins? He'll have a pretty good damn reason for him to be at the Capitol forever. Imagine for a second we win. Do you think he'll let you live here? A female winner, a victor two years in a row, and a winner of a Quarter Quell. That's not rare, that's called impossible."

She noticed how he had said if we win, but then referred only to her. She felt the uneasiness in her stomach. She could not picture a world in which Haymitch and Michael were not there because of her.

"Where are you going with this?"

"Our lives are done. There is no victor. Every possible outcome means erasing us all or becoming dead alive."

Well, good morning to you too, Haymitch, she bitterly thought. What a way to begin a new day under Snow's clutches.

"I don't accept that."

"What can you do about it?"

"Maybe we can run to the woods. Maybe those girls were really going to District 13."

It was delusion speaking and she knew that. Haymitch snorted.

"Good luck not getting shot trying. I'll think about something better."

She was about to say she did not think he could do something that big that would change the course of the Games, but he had kept her alive throughout the worst days of her life. Maybe he deserved some credit.

He finished the biscuits and coffee and went home. Katniss remained there until she could see Prim with her face down as she walked, and her dad with a bag with food. They all broke down again in the middle of the hall. The scene was repeated with Madge and Gale over the next hours and her head hurt like hell from crying too much.

It was already at night when she stood by the phone, unable to pick it up. She could not find the guts to do it. She did not know what to say and she did not want to make it real, so she simply did not even touch it.

"You won once. You can do it again." Prim had said over breakfast. "Maybe they change the rules and there is more than one winner."

No one truly believed that, not even Prim. It was like they were forced to find the right words, little excuses to feel better, to hold onto some hope. Yet Katniss played it along.

"Anything is possible, it seems."

The wind had risen to worsen Finnick's soured mood. Now he could not even go for a swim. He stood there, on the porch, watching the menacing greyish sky and the waves turning more aggressive. He could not pace around, could not vent to any of his friends, or even breathe. He would be sent to the Arena again in a matter of months. They were all going to die, to be precise, twenty-three victors. Mags was the oldest if he was not mistaken, so taking into account everyone else after her, there were around fifty of them. If he did the math that meant less than thirty would remain after the Quell.

How had they underestimated Snow's obsession with controlling them? It was a smart move, he had to admit it, getting rid of all the insolent, nagging ones in one go. He did not need to think about the possibility of him going. He expected all the papers inside would hold his name, as simple as that. Finnick leaned into the handrail and watched the tides for a while. He was not glad that Annie was not there, but at least she did not have to relive it all again. He heard the phone but he let it ring a couple of times. He was too tired to bother to pick it but he guessed it had to be her, so he finally walked inside. The voice that answered, however, was not Katniss'.

"Odair."

"Haymitch."

He did not mean to, but he must have sounded startled.

"Not who you expected, right?"

He sat down, by the kitchen counter and felt his stomach twisting. For a second, he felt the same rush of fear he had hearing the Quell announcement.

"Is Katniss okay?"

"Nothing happened, don't worry. She's just distraught. You hadn't heard from her?"

"Not yet."

He figured she needed more time since she was the only female in her District. She had only come back home and now…

"How's Mags handling it?" Haymitch asked.

"She's upset, obviously. Her daughter is doing poorly."

"So, Finnick. How do you feel about a trip?"

Finnick waited silently. Maybe he had not heard that right. What a weird proposition coming from Haymitch, who barely even left the house, who interacted only with the few other mentors he could stand and no one else.

"I'm not going to the Capitol."

"Why would I want to go to that damn place?", he answered, as if it was obvious. "It's Katniss's birthday soon."

And then, another surprise. He was glad he had picked up the phone because it was getting more and more appealing as it continued. Why was Haymitch truly calling? Now he was intrigued.

"So?"

"I don't know. I was thinking about giving her a little surprise, that's all."

He put the pieces together then. For some reason, his heart beat a bit faster with the idea. It could be the most far-fetched thing Haymitch had ever come up with. Finnick Odair going to District 12. Pure insanity.

"Am I the little surprise?"

"If you want to."

"Are you drunk right now?"

On the other side of the line, Haymitch chuckled and Finnick could not help but follow.

"No…but it's also been a while since we've had a drink, hasn't it? You and me."

There must be something encoded there, he realized. What was Haymitch up to? Why would he need to go to 12? The fear rose to his throat and his brief smile faltered. This is too dangerous. Four victors in the same place, it can't be.

"They will never issue me a permit to travel in these conditions."

"Then forge it. Who cares?"

"Haymitch," Finnick protested.

"What are they going to do? Tell me." His voice grew stronger. "Will they kill us all?"

"Soon enough they will," he barely whispered back.

They must be listening, he thought, they were always.

Finnick put the phone away for a second and looked at the sea. Whatever. Fuck it. We cannot give up so easily, not without a fight. He had been collecting secrets for years like Snow had forced him to collect people. It was high time he started putting them to use.

"I'll be there." 

Chapter Text

Twenty-six

The air formed a greyish fog around the station, which actually was something closer to a whistle stop, and Finnick shivered involuntarily as soon as he stepped outside. The place was deserted, excepted for the man leaning against the handrail, looking unphased. Haymitch was really there to welcome him. He almost could not believe his eyes.

"My hallucinations are getting pretty vivid," Haymitch spoke, with a smirk on his face. "Finnick Odair in the flesh in District 12."

His mouth curved into a smile too, before he even approached to give him a quick hug. What a shitty moment to live and how grateful he still was for having people he could lean on around. He would have never expected Abernathy to become that close to him, but he had always been pretty harmless, someone who seemed out of it most of the times and yet could listen and give the most accurate (and unapologetic) advice he had heard anyway.

"Friendship is the fuel of the world."

"Friendship, yes. And hatred too."

How could he forget? The second reason they were both standing there, he presumed, was their common enemy. He picked up his bag and started walking beside Haymitch.

"How are we getting out of this one now?"

"Great question. Can we leave it for later?"

"Sure."

He looked around them, once or twice, but the few people who passed did not even looked at them twice. Maybe they had not recognized him, maybe they did not care. Finnick felt the tension accumulating in his shoulders. The last time he had been there he had been 14, he had barely processed what he had done to win the Games and he had felt nothing but a deep hole in his stomach looking at the gaunt faces of the kids in 12. The memory was not exactly something to treasure.

"I feel like someone is going to tell me to stop walking and lead me straight to the square for a public whipping."

Haymitch snorted a bit and kept on walking.

"Katniss is going to love this."

"How is she?"

"Apparently fine, but she's very quiet, even more than before. I think Benton Everdeen is one day away from setting fire to the Capitol all by himself."

A thought crossed his mind, as Finnick frowned.

"What have you told him about me?"

He was starting to think that had been a poor decision, coming there.

"Nothing too important. Worried, Odair?"

"Why would I be worried about her father?" he quickly resorted.

"You asked. I believe he could be even more of a rebel than we are."

Well, that was interesting.

"How so?"

"He's was a miner, almost died down there in an explosion. I've always thought they did it on purpose, to avoid reunion, anti-capitol sentiment and all that. You can imagine what we're like here. The girl got the spirit from somewhere."

"She's not expecting me, is she?"

"Not at all. Are you getting nervous?"

"No," Finnick replied firmly, even though his stomach was in knots.

He trailed along after him, feeling the cool breeze that would be long gone at that time of the year in 4. The Victor's Village was not that far from the station and when he distinguished the identical mansion from the distance, the nerves turn into great anticipation. The bricked houses looked sturdy, with the same grey tones as everything else, but a bit dull nevertheless. Finnick guessed having only three victors in the whole area made them appear somehow unkept, and quite different from his district. He kept his distance from Haymitch as they got closer to Katniss's house and waited for a second as he noticed someone was already outside, by the door.

"What are you ladies doing?" he heard Haymitch speak.

"Not much."

"Well, then. Look what the current brought us."

Finnick almost grinned at the words and stepped forward to see Katniss and another blonde girl sitting down the stairs at the entrance. She looked too old to be her sister so he figured it was a friend.

"Hello, Katniss."

She rapidly stood up, her eyes slightly open. Her friend also opened her mouth for a second and then smiled, but not that timidly, just amazed.

"Finnick. What-what are you doing here?"

"I wanted to stretch my legs. And you owe me cake, remember? You don't turn eighteen every day."

He smiled for them, but at the same time he realized she didn't look good. It'd been, what, a couple months since they'd seen each other? Her eyebags were noticeable at first sight and she appeared pale, her expression weary. She was the only female tribute there, of course she was not handling it well, but seeing it in person was another story. He decided he could bury all these concerns for later. They all could use a little cheering up.

Katniss was silent for a moment and then looked to her friend and back to Haymitch and Finnick.

"This is my friend Madge."

"Hello, Madge," Finnick said, and shook her hand.

"She's the mayor's daughter," she added.

"That's great. You've got me located now."

The girl chuckled, smiled a little and told Katniss she would see her later. Haymitch also said her goodbyes, declaring he had already done his job for the day. She only frowned once they both had left.

"Seriously, what are you doing here?"

"Some things can't be discussed over a phone. And I missed my favourite victors."

"How are you even here?" She asked, confused, as she went up the steps with him. "How is that possible?"

"I took the train."

"Finnick, goddammit."

"They just accepted. I guess we're already fucked, aren't we?" Since it was a sore topic and he did not want to upset her, he continued talking. "Haymitch invited me and I believe your dad accepted."

Then, Katniss raised her voice.

"What? Have you talked to my dad behind my back?"

"No. Haymitch did, but if you don't want me here…I can stay with him," he spoke, almost amused. It was almost comedic, her clear disbelief and his delight.

"You're not staying with him. You don't want to know what he lives like."

"I can imagine, Katniss. Then, you should let me in, perhaps?"

She was standing right in front of the door. She stopped to turn and study him, and once he noticed the bag he was carrying, it was like she fully realized it was happening. She finally leaned in for a quick hug before entering her house. Finnick felt his own body relax when he put his arms around her.

"What's up with you?" he wondered in a murmur.

"Nothing."

Katniss broke the hug without looking at him and pushed the door.

"I hadn't even heard from you, Katniss."

She sighed and gave a sad smile.

"That's true. I didn't know what to say, but…am I being lectured? Is that it? An intervention?"

Of course it is, you silly girl. I'm here for you.

"Not really. I'm only here for a free trip."

"For how long?"

"I haven't even arrived and you don't want me to go already?"

She pushed him gently and Finnick beamed. A true smile on her face, at last.

"Maybe a couple weeks."

"Really?"

"It's not that I want to, there aren't many trains to take me back," he explained, in case she thought it was of his doing. She seemed more relaxed now, at least.

"I'm not kicking you out, Finnick."

"How nice of you."

"Anyway…I'm going to find my dad," she announced. "Then, I'll show you the guest room."

I can wait, he decided. She was safe and sound, maybe unwell, but all of them were at the moment. He was glad to see her, also Haymitch. He felt like he had built something lately with those two. Companionship. They were together now, all of them. That was what mattered.

"I think our guest is here."

Katniss opened the door of her dad's office without knocking or making herself noticed. She had left Finnick Odair at the entrance of their house, bag in hand and the most modest outfit he had ever seen him on. The whole thing sounded ridiculous, even in her mind. Would they get in trouble for it? Not even that mattered anymore, they were already condemned, so, why worry again? She thought she would have to face him to train to kill each other at the Capitol and now he was right there, to talk, eat with them, even sleep under the same roof. She would have never pictured anything like that.

"I lost track of time," her dad simply replied, taking his glasses off.

She leaned against the frame of the door and did not really know if she wanted to thank him and smile happily or shoot some angry words for not telling her.

"I can't believe you planned this with Haymitch and didn't tell me,"she said carefully, trying not to sound resentful. "I'm getting the feeling you're all conspiring against me here."

She did not want to think about it now, because everything got her emotional those days, but it was moving to see they knew her so well. Haymitch was well aware Finnick would not fail to improve her mood, and her dad would do whatever it took to help her.

"I would say conspiring for you," he corrected her. "There's a difference."

"Why is Finnick here?"

"He's your friend. You tell me."

"Dad."

He stood up and looked back at her, the kindness in his eyes unmistakable.

"We wanted to surprise you, that's one thing. Haymitch is up to something, I don't know what. He thinks you should all discuss it."

"Alright. Before you see him, please, give him a chance. He's… great."

And he looked a bit out of place there, she had noticed, only seeing him arrive. She was even surprise to see he owned sweaters and not only white sheer shirts. Benton nodded, knowingly.

"He must be, or you wouldn't be his friend. C'mon, let's not keep him waiting."

Katniss tried to hide the way her hands shook for a bit while they walked towards the hall. She was nervous, there was no beating around the bush. It was just Finnick, but it was Finnick meeting her dad, it was like two complete opposite sides of her life had converged. She would have to introduce him to Prim, which was going to go amazingly, surely, but then, she thought about Gale and the rest and… Her mind went back to the present moment.

Finnick was standing there with a faint smile on his face and the bag resting between his legs. If he was calm enough in another District, surrounded by strangers, she could be too. He looked so normal, right there, with simple dark clothes, no make-up, necklaces or any other accessory to enhance his natural beauty. And yet, Katniss was surprised to contemplate, he would stand out anywhere, however he appeared.

Her gaze went from her dad to Finnick, while she imagined they were trying to study each other with just one look, discreetly. They shook hands politely as soon as they got to each other.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Finnick. I'm Benton, or Ben, whatever you prefer."

"Benton, thank you for having me."

"Don't worry about it."

Her father looked equally relaxed, and as he looked back to her there was a flicker of something in his eyes she could not place. Was that amusement, amazement, or something deeper? It felt strange to have a connection with someone her father did not even know. It was completely out of the question before, since everyone knew each other in 12.

"The guest room is right by Katniss's door, on the first floor." Her father started leading the way while he explained it. "You can use the bathroom here too, we have the others."

"Where's Prim, by the way?"

"With Rory. I told her to be home by 6, she'll be here any moment."

They entered the room, as if there was something to see inside, apart from the same furniture they had had since they were given the house, the two empty twin beds. They had not used that room before yet, they had no reason to. Finnick put the bag on the bed to the right and looked around.

"What do you think?"Katniss asked, as she sat down at the end of the other bed.

Finnick stood, having a look from the window as well.

"You've got a really nice house. Very homely."

"Is it bigger than yours?"

"Maybe. But I've got better views," he decided.

"I doubt that. We can see Haymitch stumbling out the house every other afternoon," Katniss replied, almost instantly.

Her father laughed so genuinely at that it was contagious. He then told them he was going to prepare dinner and left them at it.

"It's way better when the noise is Michael's grandkid learning to walk around, anyway."

Finnick sat down on the other bed next to Katniss. Even if they were laughing just then, she had to stop to think about it.

A grandson.

Neither of them would have time to even consider having a family one day, if things went according to Snow's plan. She was turning into an adult in days and although he was freshly twenty-four, she would bet he felt considerably older some days, because it happened to her too. Suddenly, she had to say it aloud, all those fears, all those doubts.

"I don't want to fight anymore, Finnick."

He raised his gaze, the whole room still.

"I do. But not against you."

The determination in his voice stunned her. She did not need to be told, Finnick had had enough of it all, years of it, to be precise. She could not imagine what things he had been put through but this was the last drop. The guilt for not calling, not caring to reach out, scared or not, closed her throat for a while.

"How can we do anything to stop it?" she managed to get out.

"We're here to solve that, Katniss. The least we can do is try."

She nodded absently. She did not want to give in either, but there was nothing she could do on her own. She took a look at the two twin beds, Finnick's eyes full of grit and then thought of Haymitch's clever schemes, of the willingness of her father. Her mentor was right to say running away was useless, they had to think of the bigger picture. After all, they were not alone anymore.

Chapter Text

Twenty-seven

In almost no time after, Primrose Everdeen was at the door. Finnick heard her arrive from what would be his room for these days, where both him and Katniss were still talking.

"I'm home!"

Katniss rose to her feet at the sound and smiled slightly, and Finnick thought suddenly that it was actually refreshing to see her at ease, in a place she called home, where she felt safe and surrounded by people she could trust.

He followed her to the hall and watched the blonde girl greet her dad. She was slim but looked healthy, and she was taller than he had pictured. She was young, young like many little girls he had seen come and go at the Games. Like many who had never come back home. There walked the reason why Katniss would be willing to risk it all, even her own life. He could relate to that desire deeply. He would have done anything to have his family with him, like they had fought for him when they were still alive.

"Remember I told you about Katniss's friend coming over?"

She nodded to his dad, before she realized they were not alone and turned to them.

"This is Finnick," Katniss said.

"Hello."

Prim moved towards them, a bit stunned, but moved nevertheless.

"It's really you," she muttered. She looked at him, with her clear attentive eyes, jumping to her sister too. "Finnick Odair."

What a sweet girl. Just the idea of her in the Arena was unsettling enough to make his stomach twist. No doubt Katniss had jumped to defend her.

"And you must be the nice Everdeen sister." Finnick spoke while glancing at Katniss for a moment. "I'd only met the grumpy one."

Prim shook his hand lightly. Her stunned expression had turned into an enchanted smile. Finnick could not help but grin and Katniss seemed clearly pleased too, her eyes beaming.

"I think dinner is ready."

"I saw you and Katniss. In the magazines," she said, while she sat by her dad, in front of Katniss and him.

"Oh, that. We did have a nice celebration," he conceded, but felt Katniss's piercing eyes on him. He loved nagging her so much. "Even if your sister does not even dance."

"She sings, though."

"So I've heard."

Everything on the table smelled delicious, from the chicken to the potato gratin and even the bread. Finnick's stomach growled. He was a firm believer that food prepared in a loving home was ten times tastier, although he had to admit he could not cook for the life of him. Everything reminded him of meals at Mags's, especially the fact that they were at the kitchen table, and not in a dining room. It felt like a privilege, entering a private space he was allowed to inhabit as anyone else in the family.

"I didn't know you were really friends," Prim said, her voice low, perhaps even hurt.

She looked over at her sister and Katniss sighed after swallowing.

"Sorry, Prim. It's… a bit complicated."

"Did you like what they published about Katniss when you read it?" Benton asked out of the sudden, coming to her aid.

The youngest Everdeen took a sip of water and shook her head. She avoided their gaze and Finnick could swear she blushed a little. Of course, she had read all they had made up about them being an item.

"Not really, it seemed exaggerated. I…didn't believe it."

"Exactly. So, you see why your sister wanted to be discreet."

"I think I understand. People imagine things when they don't know for sure about something." It sounded mature of her to recognise it, Finnick thought. "You did say District 4 was your favourite when you returned, though."

Then, it was him who was surprised.

"Oh, did you? You didn't tell me that."

It was Benton who talked to him, afterwards.

"What do you think of 12, Finnick?"

"I have a soft spot for it, I guess. The nature in it…it shocked me when I saw it." He had to stop, then continued eating to hide he wished to recall anything but his Victory Tour. "And the people's authentic. Haymitch's great, so it was easy to befriend Katniss."

"I wouldn't say it was easy," she quickly responded. "You were a pain in the neck at first."

With a snort of amusement, Finnick talked back:

"And you were the most distrusting person I'd ever met. You do well acting like that, though."

"Luckily, you gave me enough reasons to trust you very soon," Katniss spoke, smiling to herself.

The food was actually as succulent as he had imagined it by its smell and while he enjoyed it, he tried his best to satisfy Prim's curiosity. She had plenty of small questions, polite ones, about his District, his tastes for music and what he and her sister had been up to.

Katniss listened, laughed and did not miss a single interaction. Finnick would have sworn she looked happier than ever, had he not known about the reaping. For a moment, it was almost like they could all ignore the painful truth. He supposed that was all he aimed to cause with his visit. The feeling of warmth in his belly was definitely not only caused by the dinner.

"Alright," Benton said, after they finished. His head turned to Prim first, "You have school tomorrow."

Prim did not complain, and neither did she pull a long face. She appeared perfectly obedient, although she stopped for a second in front of them:

"You're staying for long, Finnick?"

"A bit after your sister's birthday, I believe."

"Nice. Goodnight, then."

"Night, duck. I think I'm going to have a bath before bed," Katniss announced. "Is there anything you need?"

Finnick stood up and looked at the kitchen's sink, full of dishes and cutlery ready to be washed.

"It's fine. I'm going to lend your dad a hand."

"You're our guest," Benton immediately complained. "There's no need."

"And I have two perfectly functioning hands, so…" he insisted.

"Whatever you want, then. Do you even know what a scrubber is?"

Finnick pushed the chair and chuckled.

"I think I'm familiar with dish towels too, Katniss."

"I was just wondering. You two have fun."

Benton had been mostly quiet and observant during the whole dinner, speaking occasionally. But Finnick, who was used to being watched, was aware of the expression of someone scrutinizing another, even when they wanted to be cautious about it. That was what he had perceived and it only made sense, since they had just met and he was under their roof, being a stranger up until then. The least he could do was try to introduce himself properly to the man who had orchestrated the whole thing. He was also intrigued by Benton Everdeen anyway, by what Haymitch had told him. And his parents had taught him manners growing up, he had not forgotten how to be polite with the years.

"There isn't much to sort anyway. You didn't have to."

Finnick followed Benton to that side of the kitchen, in silence, realizing how he limped without his cane, left by the door.

"I wash and you dry it, alright?" he proposed, to what Finnick could only nod.

They started with it and Finnick jumped right into it.

"How are you doing with the news?"

Benton shrugged.

"Not great. Like you, I figure. Nobody was expecting something like that."

Finnick nodded for a while, not a word, clinging to the dish towel. That was an understatement.

"She seems better when Prim is there. Katniss."

"She tries for her, I think."

"Haymitch did tell me she wasn't acting like herself."

"And you?" Benton looked at him. "How are you?"

Finnick lowered his head.

"You know…it's weird. I'm at a shitty place and yet I'm better now than I was some years ago."

While Benton referred to the past days, the announcement, Finnick was considering the bigger picture, how everything intertwined until the present. However, Benton's eyes soon showed understanding.

"Katniss told me something. You don't have a family like Haymitch doesn't have one."

"Yes," that was all he could mouth, so he was glad to hear him speaking.

"We knew each other, Haymitch and I. Before the Games and everything that came after. He lost it all and never said a word to no one in ages. He barely looked at me, he never met Katniss or Prim properly before. He continued isolating but he's been progressing with time. I understand some consequences of his winning and … it's relieving to hear you speak highly of him too."

Finnick scrubbed a dish and his mouth formed a sad smile.

"We all have our flaws. Haymitch can be brutal sometimes, but he is not only harmless deep down…he's one of the few reliable people out there."

"Katniss brought him back to the world of the living, somehow."

"She gave him hope. And she did the same with more people, me being the first."

"I should thank you for what you did."

Finnick stopped and leaned on the counter.

"What do you mean?"

"She told me about the bow. You contributed to saving her life and you did not even know her."

"She saved herself and she was prepared," Finnick argued. "I think she owes that to you, sadly."

Benton remained silent for a second, before handing him a bunch of forks.

"I thought I was preparing her for life, for the life that we had back then. Not this. That was not my intention."

"It was needed, in any case."

"I'm just glad she was not alone, while there and after to digest it all. I know she feels like we cannot understand her… You and Haymitch must have been through a lot, like her. So, thank you for trying to help her. Thank you for protecting her."

Perhaps Benton Everdeen had never been at the Capitol but he appeared painfully aware of the way the Capitol and its powers worked. Katniss was lucky to count with someone so conscious in his life, someone who could see through others.

"I think she has helped me in more ways that I did. I know it may sound impossible to you, but I don't have so many friends. I barely…I barely have people."

Benton's hand landed on his shoulder and Finnick pushed down the knot in his throat.

"I think I'm already changing my mind about you. If she trusts you, you're more than welcomed around us."

Chapter Text

Twenty-eight

Katniss confirmed that day that Finnick Odair was an early riser. She already figured he would love to look at the beach from his window, go from a swim perhaps, when he was home at Four. That was what she had gathered from their phone conversations, but there was not much to admire from her house apart from the usual forest and the path to Haymitch and Michael's respective houses.

Not having much to do yet, they sat down for breakfast in relative silence. There was nothing out of the ordinary about the day, Prim went to school, their dad went to the bakery and the groceries and had not returned yet. And yet, Finnick was right there in the flesh, what an inconceivable thought. She had not been able to quieten it since he had arrived the previous day. They were going to go back to the Arena, the first time in history such thing happened, and she was stupidly feeling the rush of glancing at him in person. She stared at Finnick, sipping on a mug of coffee, looking like he had always been there, like he had slipped out of a corner of her mind, just when she needed it, without even realizing it. When the corner of his lips started turning up, she looked away and tried to pretend she had been frowning the whole time. It was the thrill of seeing a familiar face again, she told herself, nothing else.

"What is it?"

"Nothing. I was just thinking…what are we going to do with you here?"

He shrugged.

"I'm not fussy. Whatever you always do."

Katniss lost her gaze in her own drink.

"I don't do much."

"You could show me around later."

"Maybe," she muttered. That would be a short walk, anyway. There was no way she would walk him into the woods. Maybe the Hob for later days, if she was feeling brave enough to show up with the golden boy in public. And her birthday…Her stomach twisted for a second. How was she going to host Finnick, Madge, Gale and all the Hawthorne's in the same room? It was not a matter a lack of space anymore what concerned her.

Katniss was glad to see her dad arriving from town, interrupting any chance of another outlandish idea crossing her mind.

"You're up already. How did you sleep, Finnick?"

He shot a polite smile at her dad from the table.

"Quite well, thanks."

Benton put a bag full of food down and talked while he got it out:

"I've seen Haymitch. He says we should all eat together today. He wants to discuss…whatever you need to discuss. It'll be better to do it here."

"Who's all?"

"Michael and him. Us three."

Katniss and Finnick exchanged a look.

"What do you think he's up to?" she wondered.

"He didn't want to tell me anything when he walked me here. Although he said you had something to say."

Her father gazed at her for a second before Katniss nodded slightly.

"I do. I met some women in the woods one day, they said they were from Eight."

"That's quite the trek."

"And they were walking to Thirteen."

Katniss expected Finnick to be taken aback, to contain a shriek or even mock her and say there was no District Thirteen anymore, that there had not been one for decades. What he actually did was fell silent and pursue his lips.

"They said that? How did they find out?"

Katniss felt her heart beating faster.

"Wait. Do you think it's real?"

Benton suddenly jolted his head.

"Are you certain?"

When Finnick spoke, he did in a low, worried voice.

"I haven't seen it with my own eyes, obviously. But I have my sources, and I trust them."

A heavy silence hung in the room while both Katniss and Benton began to ponder what he was implying, that it could be true and that, in fact, he had known beforehand. The idea that it was not news to him made Katniss feel a chill in her spine. What else was she not aware of? And if there was truly another district, in what conditions were the living? Were they aware of what was going on around them?

"They talked about a broadcast." Katniss added. "How we never see new footage of what is left there. Supposedly."

"Thanks for telling me. I'll bring it up later, now…You promised me a walk, didn't you?"

Katniss managed to smile a little, realizing Finnick had become quite somber when she had mentioned Thirteen. It seemed like he did not want to dwell on it anymore. It was understandable since she did not have to wonder how he could have landed that information. She decided it was better to leave it alone for the moment.

"You're right."

"You may be wondering why we're gathered here… and why I brought Finnick to Twelve," said Haymitch, while he turned to look at him.

"Apart from the promise of a birthday cake," he muttered.

Katniss played with her fork and the food for a while, before opening up her mouth. The reason for their little reunion was crystal clear.

"Because we're all dying in a couple months?"

When she raised her gaze they were all looking at her, except for her father. He remained quiet.

"Thanks for being the voice of the reason," Haymitch was strangely calm. "And what are we doing to stop it?"

Katniss frowned.

"Nothing. What can we possibly do?"

"I was hoping you had some secret genius plan." Finnick admitted. "Something that isn't running to Thirteen. Because if you've made me come just to ride off into the sunshine together, I don't see it working."

"No way. We would be shot soon enough," Haymitch coincided. Then what was the point? Was there anything viable to stop it? "Maybe, if we did something so big we incite everyone else to rebel. We've seen in her Tour, how things were at Eleven, whatever happened in Eight with those women Katniss saw…"

It was Benton who interrupted then.

"But it's never enough, is it? It's been talked about before here in Twelve and it never ends well." His voice was firm but also collected. "That would mean organisation. We alone don't stand a chance, not even Eleven and Twelve together or whoever joins."

Katniss agreed with her father. They were not fighters, they did not have the resources, weapons, aircrafts…They would be crushed like cockroaches as soon as they tried.

"We need Thirteen and we don't even know if it's true," Michael said.

"I may have someone in the Capitol. Someone close to Snow." Haymitch looked around the room. "I've known him for two decades and I still don't know what to make of him, though."

Finnick's eyebrows rose.

"Heavensbee?" He nodded. "Could work."

Katniss watched it all without a word. Those years at the Capitol had clearly helped them create an understanding of life only them could share. And other Victors, she supposed. She had not had the time to barely know what the life of one was like and she was glad for it.

"It was something we tried before. In my Games."

Katniss inhaled sharply as soon as Haymitch said the words. She did not know much about how he had managed to win and he never spoke about it to her either.

"You tried what?" she asked.

"To blow the arena."

Her mouth went dry. She could hardly believe what she was hearing. Benton had a deep concerned expression, while he looked over at Haymitch.

"Is that what we're doing?"

"I haven't decided yet. Maybe it's out best shot."

"So, you'll be out then." Michael spoke. "When we go to the Games, it's going to be me."

"How much of an asshole do you think I am? Michael, you're not going."

"I'll volunteer for you and you can't stop me. Listen, it's the best strategy. Katniss is in, Finnick…he's making him go, I'm sure. Sorry, Finnick."

Finnick did not even grimace.

"You're right, don't be sorry."

"Somebody has to plan it all and I don't know much people anymore, I haven't been there in ages. Don't fight me on this one."

Katniss had not seen such an upset expression on Haymitch's expression since the disturbs in Eleven. There was pure despair in his voice.

"You have a family."

Michael gave a hint of a sad, tentative grin.

"They'll be alright. They've been thinking about me dying for ages and I always persist. I'm a grandad already, Haymitch. I've lived a rich life. In any case, if things go wrong…Benton is here. He knows the forest, he can help others run too."

"I could do that. It's not like I hadn't planned it before."

"Great," Haymitch exclaimed and went back to his drink.

Katniss turned to her plate but the food had run cold already.

"And last but not least… we have you two."

Haymitch looked at Finnick first, by his side, and then at her, opposite both.

"Us two?" she said, confused.

"We have a beautiful article. Very touching."

"It's full of bullshit."

"We all agree on that. But we're not Capitol. You're turning eighteen and I know Finnick's older… but they are going to eat this up." She noticed how Haymitch stopped to glance at Benton. "They love forbidden love. They can't get enough of Finnick and you are a bit mysterious. Inter-district love is a bomb! It's the perfect distraction for the general public, to make them side with the victors. Losing that is a crime."

Katniss could not emit a sound. Her face was suddenly hot and she did not even want to give her dad a side glance.

"More fuel for the masses." Finnick whispered, not sounding very pleased. "This was your intention all along?"

He shrugged.

"Sort of."

"Haymitch." Katniss complained. "How dare you?"

"What? It's not like there are cameras here. Nobody will see outside Twelve, don't worry about that. But once he's back, Finnick can complain about how you two are getting separated right when you had found each other."

"I don't know if you are some mastermind, or being really coldhearted right now." Finnick spoke.

Katniss could only pay attention to her own nervous breathing, and the way her dad was observing Haymitch without speaking. Finnick was not done yet.

"Well, it's definitely something that sells. I don't care. I wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable, though. You're my friend. Is this too much, Katniss?"

She almost stuttered.

"I don't know. I don't really like it but...it could help."

Then why did she have such a hole in her stomach?