Work Text:
The last thing Katniss remembered was shooting her arrow at the sky. She heard a nearly melodic composed mix of her carnal scream and the crackle of a million volts of electricity. She woke, now, to a pale ceiling and cold metal under her skin. She reached her right hand around her, searching for Peeta, as she removed the oxygen mask with her left.
Her fingers grasped someone’s wrist. Weakly, hesitantly, as if the answer would destroy her, she turned her head. He was there next to her — his eyes closed, pants torn, so his prosthetic was exposed, chest rising and falling carefully with each assisted breath. It occurred to her then, only when she knew he was safe, that she didn’t know where they were. Her muscles screamed at her as she sat up to investigate.
Near their still bodies sat an open chest of medical tools. She quietly grabbed a syringe before moving to inspect their surroundings. Voices trickled underneath a mostly closed door. She followed them and peeked through, to find Haymitch and Finnick conversing with the man she danced with at President’s mansion. The man who had controlled the 75th Hunger Games. She pushed the door open swiftly, the syringe tight in her hand.
“What is going on?” She asked, her gaze glued to Finnick. “Where are we?”
“We took you out of the games, Katniss.” The man said.
Heavensbee. That was his name. Plutarch Heavensbee .
“Why?” She continued, then looking to Haymitch.
“You were always our plan. You and Peeta. President Coin wanted Peeta, I wanted you. Haymitch convinced us to take you both.” Heavensbee explained.
She clenched her fists in frustration, “Take us both where ?”
“To District 13.” Haymitch finally spoke.
She scoffed, “There is no District 13.”
“That’s what Coin wanted you to think.” Plutarch said. Katniss still avoided his gaze, though he desperately tried to meet hers. “We’re taking you there, Katniss. You are to be our Mockingjay.”
Silence fell over the room. She felt the anger and grief flooding her system. She couldn’t shut it out, not this time. Not after everything she’d survived. Everyone in the room knew the lengths she had gone to stay alive. Most days, she wondered why she’d done any of it. What was there to live for now? Not hope, or victory, or wealth. Love, she pondered, love is what kept her alive.
Finally, she spoke, “After all of this, you think I’m going to allow you to throw me into something else without a choice?”
“Of course you have a choice, Katniss. We all do.” Finnick calmly stated.
“You and me, Finnick, have never had a choice.” Katniss replied.
He took a beat, his gaze torn from hers. His fingers gripped the table in front of him tightly. He felt he was losing control, she could tell. She was sure they were feeling similar waves of emotion. Sadness. Anger. Exhaustion. Confusion, except he seemed perfectly aware. As if he knew it all along.
“Or, maybe you did. Why are you here, and we were in the damn hallway?” She demanded.
“I woke up before you, Katniss. That’s all.” He said. “You should listen to Plutarch, though. They have a plan.”
“I’m sick of these plans. I’m sick of being a pawn.” She turned back to Haymitch. “What if I would rather not be their Mockingjay?”
“Then we figure something out.” He nodded. “Take some time, sweetheart. Get rested.” He shifted towards Plutarch, “we don’t need to lay it all on her now. She should see her sister, get some real sleep. A meal.”
Her throat felt tight, “Prim is here ?”
“She’s in the medical wing with your mother. I’ll take you to her. Then, you rest.”
“Only if you bring Peeta.”
“Of course, sweetheart.”
When she next awoke, it could’ve been days later and she wouldn’t have known it. Despite the sleep, she didn’t feel rested in the slightest. She sat up too quickly, with an IV tugging at her, and her mind spinning. She heard quick footsteps approach, then saw Prim. A deep sigh tumbled from her lips. She was safe. At least for now. With a quick glance around the room, she saw Peeta sleeping peacefully across from her.
“How are you feeling?” Prim asked. Her tone carried sophistication rather than compassion. It was a side of her sister she had never encountered.
“Like I’ve risen from the dead.” Katniss announced. “Are we at the District yet?”
“Almost,” She nodded. “Gale —”
“Gale is here?”
Prim nodded again, “he saved our lives, Katniss. Mine and mom’s.”
Katniss went cold. “What happened? What did Snow do?”
“After you took out the force field, he sent bombers to 12. Most of the District couldn’t get out fast enough. Gale saved as many people as he could.” Prim’s voice shook only slightly. “Our home is gone.”
Katniss’s trembling hands grasped her sisters. “I’m so sorry, Prim.”
Prim smiled meekly. “It’s not your fault.”
“It is my fault.”
“No.”
“Prim —”
“Katniss, stop it.”
“This fierceness in you is new.”
“Well, near death will do that to you. You of all people know this.” Prim smiled, a real smile. “Now, lay back down, Girl on Fire. You aren’t done healing.”
“Yes, Nurse.” Katniss grinned back.
“That’s Doctor, to you.”
“Yes m’am.” Katniss chuckled raspily, “is Peeta okay?”
Prim nodded, “He wasn’t near the blast, but he was still injured. We had to fix his prosthetic while he was asleep. He’ll be new and improved and probably grumpy when he wakes up again.”
“Peeta has never been grumpy before.”
“He’s earned it now.”
Katniss laid back in the decidedly uncomfortable bed. She assumed her deep sleep wasn’t of her volition. Part of her was grateful. The Quarter Quell took every ounce of strength she had left. Even if she wished to be the Mockingjay, she wasn’t sure her limbs could handle it. Perhaps she could melt into the paper sheet underneath her and be rid of the chaos for good. Even in her silly fantasies, she’d still be leaving Peeta. She knew in her heart that she would never abandon him. She wondered, then, if his family had made it out of 12. It was in her best interest, and his, not to ask. Someone would tell him when he was ready. She knew, however, that apart from with her, Peeta Mellark felt entirely alone.
Katniss volunteered for her sister in the 74th games, yet Peeta’s brothers could not pay him the same kindness. Sacrifice was engrained in their everyday lives. If the family desperately needed extra rations, an extra paper with a name went into the reaping. It was likely how Rue ended up in the games, being the oldest of her even younger siblings. Katniss had occasionally sacrificed her dinner in favor of Prim. She could go hungry, manage the pain rumbling in her stomach.
Sacrifice loomed over every District. No matter the job, the family, the year. Despite this, Peeta’s brothers allowed him to go into the arena. Sixteen years old — their lives changed forever at sixteen years old.
Eighteen now, Katniss couldn’t properly picture what she used to feel. She wasn’t sure she could feel anything at all, but perhaps that was due to the drugs attempting to heal her. There were wounds inflicted from The Games Katniss knew would never heal.
She closed her eyes and wondered what District 13 looked like. All her life, she assumed it was rubble, like other ruins of the first rebellion. Is it possible that the people of 13 never disappeared? Somehow, some way, they had been there all this time? Plutarch said the plan was always to rescue one of them, Peeta or Katniss. All the possibilities made her dizzy. Who had been planning? Who was the President he had mentioned? What exactly was she in for now?
The aircraft bounced into a landing like a rock skipping over water. She gripped the rails of the medical bed tightly, her heart rate skyrocketing. Peeta jolted out of bed with terror painted on his face. Quickly, she got up and stumbled towards him, her IV pole keeping her steady.
“It’s okay, Peeta.” She murmured. “We’re in District 13 now. We’re safe.”
“13?” He asked.
She sat down on his bed next to him as the plane steadied. “I know. We’ve missed a lot,” She laughed softly. She ran her fingers gently through his hair. “You’re okay. I promise.”
“Why are we in 13?” He inquired, his hand carefully placed over hers.
“Plutarch and some woman named Coin want me to be the Mockingjay. I think they want me to lead their rebellion.” She explained.
“ No ,” He immediately said. “You can’t, Katniss. We can’t keep playing these games.”
She nodded, taking his free hand in hers and squeezing reassuringly. “I agree, I agree. Haymitch says he has an alternative plan. We’re going to be okay. You have my word.”
“Okay,” Peeta nodded. “Okay. You’ll stay with me?”
She smiled. Every loving moment they’d shared enveloped her as she said, “Always.”
Katniss didn’t expect to find herself more than forty floors underground. District 13 was something she never could’ve imagined. All of these people were living there the whole time. They had food, weren’t forced into labor, and were well-prepared for an impending revolution. It was a wonder they hadn’t posed an attack on The Capital in the past seventy-five years with the ammunition they had stored in the hangar.
As they walked down the long hallway, Haymitch led the way with Plutarch close behind. Katniss and Peeta trailed behind them, taking in their surroundings. Prim followed close behind, with her medical kit at the ready in case of an emergency. The hallways were stark and cold, making District 13 seem uninviting. Although they were not held to the same standards as The Capitol, it was clear that they were being held accountable to someone. Perhaps it was the mysterious woman known as Coin.
Suddenly, the group came to a halt in a large room that looked like a mess hall. The room was filled with large black tables, but there was no one sitting at them. Katniss couldn't help but feel a sense of unease; either meal time was over, or the District knew they were coming. She wondered what other secrets this place held and what kind of people were in charge.
A silvery blonde woman swiftly entered the room. “Welcome, welcome! District 13 is quite excited that you all are here now.”
“Thank you,” Haymitch replied gracefully. Katniss had never seen Haymitch graceful before. “We’re happy to be here.”
“I will have Gale show you all to your rooms, assuming everyone is in one piece.” President Coin explained. “I am sorry to hear about what happened to your home, Katniss and Peeta. It’s devastating.”
Peeta leaned into her, “what does she mean?”
“I’ll tell you when we’re alone, okay?”
“No, I want to know now.”
“Peeta —”
Seemingly out of nowhere, Gale appeared beside them. “The Capital took firebombs to 12, Peeta. Near everyone is gone.”
He seemed to have been punched in the gut by the words. “Near everyone?”
Gale frowned, only momentarily. “I don’t know where your family is. I’m sorry.”
“Okay,” Peeta nodded.
He didn’t let go of Katniss until they reached his room. Having been through The Games, Katniss had learned to read people quite well. Despite knowing Peeta better than anyone else, besides her sister Prim, she couldn't quite grasp his emotions at the moment. Ever since the news of their shared tragedy had been revealed to him in the cafeteria, he had become uncharacteristically quiet. Although she didn't blame him for his reaction, she couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. Peeta was usually the one to initiate conversations about their emotions, but this time he seemed reluctant to do so.
“Will you try to rest?”
“I don’t think so,” He shook his head.
“I could bring you some food?” She suggested.
“Not hungry.”
The door slid open, and in came Haymitch. “The lady in charge wants to change your mind, Katniss. She asked to meet with us as soon as you’re ready.”
“Hello to you too, Haymitch.” Peeta teased. “I intend to be there too.”
“I wouldn’t get in the way of your intentions, Mellark. If you feel well enough to go, then more power to ya.”
“Let’s go now, then.” Peeta said quickly and pushed himself off the mattress. “No time like the present.”
Haymitch chuckled, “He’s chipper now, ain’t he?”
“Apparently so,” Katniss watched them both. “Let’s get it over with.”
As they entered the operations room, the first thing that caught their attention was a blown up rendering of a still from a video that was emblazoned in her brain. The Mockingjay painted onto a cloth, held up by a rebel, was so vivid and striking that it begged their attention. The rebel's face glistened with sweat, and his eyes were wide with a sense of urgency. Katniss assumed urgency was the reason for her being here.
It was immediately evident that something important was happening. The air was thick with anticipation and excitement, and people were moving around with purpose. They finally made their way to the table where the two most influential people in the room were seated: President Coin and Plutarch.
President Coin was a striking figure, with a face that seemed carved out of marble. She didn't smile or even acknowledge their presence at first, but it was clear that she was in deep thought. As she finally looked up, her eyes were cold and calculating, hinting at the enormous responsibility that weighed on her shoulders. Plutarch, on the other hand, was more relaxed, with a twinkle in his eye that suggested he had an ace up his sleeve. Together, they represented the two sides of the coin that was the revolution: the cold, hard reality of political power and the creative, imaginative spirit of the people.
Plutarch, on the other hand, remained expressionless for the most part, but there was a hint of giddiness in his eyes, which was unsettling. The tension in the room was palpable, as everyone waited for the meeting to begin.
“Katniss, thank you for joining us.” Plutarch began. “We hope you will reconsider what we have in mind.”
“We’ll see,” Peeta interjected before anyone else could speak.
With her hand laid affectionately on top of his, she asked, “What exactly is it you have in mind?”
“We need a face of the revolution, Katniss. We couldn’t think of anything better than the Girl on Fire. The Mockingjay.” Coin explained.
Katniss smiled kindly, “Plutarch couldn’t think of a better idea. You wanted Peeta. If you’re going to sway me, you might as well do it with honesty.”
“Fair enough.” Coin swallowed her pride as she nodded. “We require someone that people believe in. You have done that in strides without even trying.”
“Well, it wasn’t my choice to get reaped.” She pointed out matter-of-factly.
“Katniss, please .” Haymitch begged quietly. “Behave.”
She took a beat, then leaned back into the chair calmly. “Continue.”
Plutarch cleared his throat, then laid out his plan. He had a buzzing about him, like he was preparing for a sporting event of some kind. He was a Game Maker, after all. ”We would have to start soon. Our idea is to film some videos, propos they’re called. They will showcase the Mockingjay. Your image will get the people unified. They will listen to you. They love you.”
“If you want a pretty face to parade around, try Gale.” Haymitch piped up. “Why should Katniss put herself in more danger? Her family, loved ones, in more danger?”
“To end the reign of The Capitol!” Coin exclaimed. “Hasn’t that been the goal all along?”
Even in their short time knowing each other, Katniss could tell this outburst was out of character by the expressions of everyone else in the room. “My goal was to survive The Hunger Games and go home. That’s not an option anymore, President Coin. Please do forgive me if I don’t jump at the chance to fight for my life again .” Katniss pushed her body up from the chair. “Peeta, anything to add?”
“You covered it.” He replied and followed her head.
“Take a few days. Think about it,” Coin urged.
“Sure, of course.” Katniss said. “We will.”
“Actually,” Peeta turned slightly. His gaze fell to Coin, and didn’t once falter.“If she refuses to be the face of your revolution, are you going to make us leave?”
“No, Mr. Mellark. You have a place with us regardless.” Coin replied kindly, though her kindness absolutely came with a price tag.