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Chapter Text

When they call Peeta Mellark I feel horrified. The boy with the bread. It’s the boy with the bread. I never thanked him and now I may kill him. No one screams; no one panics. He walks up to the stage and I can’t look at him. Then Effie Trinket asks if anyone volunteers and there is silence. Of course there is. No one ever volunteers. I see his second eldest brother looking to the ground. Then a voice I know so well says, “I volunteer in the place of Peeta Mellark.”

No, no, because if it’s bad to kill the boy with the bread it’s horrific to kill Gale. For the second time in five minutes I’m screaming. “No! No, Gale, you can’t.”

He doesn’t meet my eye as he walks to the stairs. The Peacekeepers flank him as though he might run away now. I can’t find my tongue to shout anymore. Peeta picks up for me, “Can I un-volunteer him?”

Effie Trinket looks flummoxed. No one volunteers in 12. Now two people have and a third is trying to stop it. “Once a tribute has volunteered no one can volunteer for him.”

“But I came first,” says Peeta.

“Those are the rules of the reaping,” says Effie. She’s smiling. This is the most exciting reaping she has ever overseen.

Gale reaches for him and touches his face, “I have a better chance of coming home to you than you do of coming home to me.”

“No,” says Peeta, “you need to be here for Rory, Vick and Posy.”

He shouldn’t know their names. There is no reason for Peeta to know their names. Gale says, “You stay and feed them. You just gained six mouths to feed. Keep our families alive. That’s your role in the Games: keep them alive for us and we’ll do everything to come home. Don’t let them starve. Don’t let them take tesserae. Our families need you. If we have to worry about them there is no way either of us can win.” He leans his forehead against Peeta. “One of us will come home. Don’t let them starve.” He kisses Peeta desperately. “One of us will come home.”

The Peacekeepers pull Peeta away and force him off the stage. Gale finally looks at me. There’s horror, terror, grief and shock in his eyes. I never knew. This isn’t the time to shout. I reach out, he accepts my hand and our fingers tangle together. Effie is trying to get the reaping back on track and is making a weak joke about the fact that she would ask us to shake hands but we’re obviously beyond that point. No one laughs; Haymitch falls off the stage; Effie orders the crowd to clap for us but instead they raise three fingers into the air. A funeral salute, that’s how we part with them as we are herded off the stage.

Once we’re into the Justice Building I turn and say, “What were you thinking? We had a deal, Gale. You were supposed to feed them.”

“Peeta will feed them. He’ll keep them fed, I promise.”

“We can’t be in the arena together,” I say, feeling desperate.

He smiles at me, it’s manic, it’s frightening, “You and me as a team? One of us is coming home. We’ll stick to each other’s sides; we’ll start planning tonight. If I have to go in with anyone you’re the only I trust to watch my back. Peeta will take care of them. He’ll find a way to feed them but he couldn’t kill his way out, he couldn’t have watched your back. There was no choice. This gives us all the best chance we can get.”

Before I can say anything Peacekeepers are pushing us into separate rooms. One of the Peacekeepers touching me is Darius. He speaks softly as he says, “I’ll help Peeta. None of them will starve.”

I nod mutely. I am left alone. I look out the window and see that the crowd is leaving the square. Most years people look depressed, downtrodden; this year people are crying. It must be a shock, not one volunteer but two. And of course we weren’t volunteering because we wanted to go in to the arena. Gales loves Peeta and I love Prim. It wasn’t honor that made us speak. I never knew they were even friends. I see Peeta’s blond hair as he runs from the square. He flees and I doubt he’ll feed my family. I hate Gale just a little bit for volunteering.

Then my mother and Prim come and I hug them both tightly. I tell my mother she isn’t allowed to cry and that she isn’t allowed to breakdown. I promise Prim I’ll do everything I can to come home. I forbid her from signing up for tesserae. I remind her of her goat’s milk and cheese. I hug her and stroke her hair until the Peacekeepers come and take them away. Darius isn’t in the group. I don’t think he has the stomach to pull Prim off me.

Then Peeta’s father comes. He hands me a box of cookies. I’ve never had one in my life. He sits down and pulls out a little notebook. “I’ve never been to the Hob. Peeta’s going to need help with six mouths to feed and I’ll help but I can’t afford to do that in stores. So I need to know about the Hob.”

I tell him everything I can, the people to avoid, the etiquette, the people who will give him discounts. He writes notes. I’m speaking so fast but his hand is flying. He doesn’t need to soak it in. I tell him to bring either Prim or Rory with him whenever he can. People will give him better prices if he is seen feeding them. I tell him not to haggle too much because merchants aren’t completely welcome. I tell him that he can remind people that he’s helping us. People always try to help the tributes’ families. When our time is up the Peacekeepers come. He stands and says, “One of you needs to come home.” He gives me a sad smile, “Or the district will never have meat again.”

I give him a strained laugh. “We’ll do everything we can. Thank you for taking care of them.”

“Thank me when you come home.”

I expect no more visitors but Madge comes, she gives me a pin and makes me promise to wear it into the arena. Once she’s gone I take a deep breath. I cannot cry. There will be cameras at the train station. Peeta Mellark comes into the room. He is tearstained and kiss bruised. “I never said thank you for the bread.”

He says nothing for a moment and then says, “You were the girl who wore a red plaid dress on the first day of school and sang the valley song. You were getting thinner and thinner. I could see your ribs. Then you were crying in the rain. I couldn’t let you starve.”

“She hit you.”

He nods, “Yes, but you’re still alive. Keep him safe? Try your hardest? One of you needs to come home.”

“I’ll try to get him home to you. I’ll try.”

He hugs me suddenly and I let him. “Never thank me for the bread. I have always admired you. I’ll never let them starve. Just try to come home.” As he pulls back he hands me a loaf of bread wrapped in paper. “Your sister sold me the cheese. Neither of us knew you’d be eating it. Share it with him? I could only bring in a couple of things. I had to give him his token.” He breaks and starts to cry.

“You can’t do that in front of them,” I say firmly. “We all want to cry but we can’t in front of them. You’ve always had two older brothers, you were the youngest, but now you have four younger siblings. You have to be strong for them. They need you. Make your brothers help; guilt them with the reminder that Gale is there for you. But don’t feel guilty yourself. He did this so that he didn’t need to watch you die and now you might have to watch him die. You have four younger siblings now.”

He nods and dries his eyes. “I won’t let you down.”

This time I hug him, “I bet you and he are good for each other.”

He kind of laughs and pulls away slowly as the door opens, “I won’t let you down,” he repeats. The Peacekeepers don’t need to drag him out.

I stand alone, looking out the window to the square. This has been my home and I will never see it again. When Effie comes to tell me it’s time to leave in her ridiculous Capitol accent I go without complaining. I don’t see Gale until we reach the station. I’m glad to see he hasn’t been crying but his mouth, like Peeta’s, is bruised. It must have been hard. Rory is old enough not to cling but I’m sure Posy and Vick held on for dear life. My suspicions are confirmed when I see he has little red handprints where Posy has left bruises.

I hold out a hand and he takes it. We stand resolutely. Our faces show no emotion and our heads are held high as we enter the train.

Chapter Text

Inside Effie starts to speak about how excited we must be but Gale wraps an arm around me and moves me past her and into a room with a door that locks. It’s a bedroom. He wraps me in a hug, “Oh, Catnip.” The arms are so familiar, and now, closed away with no children or cameras I let myself cry, and I feel his tears on my shoulder. “Posy wouldn’t let go.” We cry for our families, for ourselves.

“We have two hours, Gale, and then we’re done. No more crying. We get two hours.” He nods into my shoulder. Eventually we sit on the bed and recount our goodbyes. It’s hard and we both cry. I stroke my fingers though his hair.

“Rory kept shaking his head, too stunned to speak.”

“I promised Prim I would try to win.”

“One of us will,” Gale says, “one of us is going to get home.”

“You’re never this positive about anything,” I almost laugh.

“This is something we can do.”

The bedroom is opulent: the bed is huge and soft, the quilt is made of thick silk, the floor has a deep carpet, the lights are electric and there is an ornately carved dresser with a huge mirror over it. Peeta Mellark will be fighting to feed six people. Any one object in this room could be sold to feed them for a year. “This place is disgusting.”

“I’ve been saying that for years.”

I always tune out when he begins to rant. “I choose not to think about the Capitol.”

“Maybe you should have.”

“Would it have made a difference? We’d still be on this train.”

He hugs me again, “It’s just evasion, stealth, hunting and scavenging. We can do this. We’ve done it for years.”

“It’s hunting people.”

“We stop thinking like that right now, from now on they’ll just be a district, once we know their training scores we’ll use that as a designation. No genders, they’re just a district and a score.” I nod and he strokes my cheek. “We’ll work as a team. One of us has a real chance of winning.”

“If you get home tell Prim where my father’s bows are. Keep the one you use for yourself; I want you to have it. Teach Prim to hunt.”

He nods, “If you get home make sure Rory sticks at his math homework. He’s smart: he could be a teacher as long as his math gets better. I don’t know about Vick or Posy yet: they’re too little. Just try to keep them out of the mines and teach them how to feed themselves.”

I nod. Then I put the entire conversation out of my mind and say, “Our time is up.”

He looks around, “Whose room do you think this is?”

I move to the dresser and look through the drawers, “It’s mine,” I say going through the clothes, women’s clothes that will fit me. He’s on the bed with two boxes of cookies, the loaf of bread and my pin. “Peeta Mellark said he gave you a token.”

“Don’t call him that.”

“It’s his name. It’s what we always call him.” Except I don’t think we’ve ever actually spoken about him. He’s not a part of our world.

“Just call him Peeta.”

“You could have told me.”

“Not now, Catnip, okay?” I nod and he takes a watch on a chain from him pocket.

“They won’t let you keep that. A watch is too useful.”

“It was Peeta’s great grandfather’s. It’s from before the Dark Days. His grandfather sold the actual clock work when they needed the money. It’s just the case now.” He opens it and there is a photo of him with his arm around Peeta’s shoulder. “Madge Undersee got a camera for her birthday. Peeta and I were talking between classes and she said, ‘Smile, boys.’ She didn’t know about us and we just pretended to be playing up for the camera.” He removes the picture and there is one of Gale he has Rory on his shoulders. He is carrying Posy and Vick under his arms. All four of them are laughing. “He borrowed it from Madge when he did a school thing. He did a photo project of a day in the district. He has an eye for it. He should be an artist but there’s no money in that. He ices the cakes in the store. Those cakes in the window that Prim loves? He did those. He took these.” He shows me one of Posy blowing a dandelion clock, and one of the little boys on a log eating squirrel legs. There’s a blurred one of Peeta laughing, head thrown back, “Vick wanted a turn.” He shows me the last one and my breath catches in my throat. “She came because my mother had the flu and your mother had made something to treat it. If I die keep this; keep her with you. You can bring it home with you.” I nod, not trusting my voice, looking at my little sister, smiling at me. “I want to bathe before we watch the reapings.” He puts the photos back into the watch case, slides it back into his pocket and leaves.

The shower is weird but it feels wonderful under the hot spray. I dress in clothes from the drawers and add my pin. When I go out dinner is being served. I see that Gale is picking at it. “The more meat you put on now the more you can afford to lose in the arena,” I say. He starts to eat more enthusiastically.

Effie compliments us on our manners. She comments that Seam children don’t have good manners. Without discussion, comment or even looking at each other Gale and I stop using our utensils. Soup comes and we pick up our bowls. I feel ill by the time we get through all the courses. But I need to gain weight and it is all delicious. We go to watch the reapings in another lavishly decorated room.

The boy from 10 is a cripple. Gale says, “Don’t worry. One of the Careers will get him in the Cornucopia. Don’t think about it.” There’s a girl from 11, she’s so young and small. She is so scared and I wait for someone to volunteer for her. No one does and I have to look away. My feelings must be evident on my face as Gale says, “None of them get names, just districts and a score.” I can’t speak, I can’t look at him because I know — no matter what we said about putting tears behind us — I will cry if I look at him. He sighs, “Well, Careers have allies, why shouldn’t we?”

“She’ll slow us down,” I say knowing that he’s thinking it.

“Yeah, well, once we get or make bows she won’t slow us that much. She’s a little girl, she gets a name.” He nods to himself as he says it. He knows he might be wrong and she could get us killed but he says it anyway.

“Thank you.”

He nods again, his mind is clearly made up. Rue is coming with us. “The Game is disgusting. We have to play it but we don’t have to do it their way. One of us is getting home.”

“Yeah,” I agree. There are other young kids, but none quite so young or scared looking as her. I feel nauseous and I don’t think it’s because of dinner.

“The Cornucopia will take them,” says Gale and it’s strangely comforting.

Our reaping is the most interesting — for an audience at least — Prim grabs me and Gale pulls her off looking impassive. I look bored right until Gale volunteers when I shout for a second time. Then Gale and Peeta speak, every word is broadcast to the country. They kiss and it’s jarring. People have kissed at the reapings before; sometimes they cling to each other and sob and scream. But I have never seen two boys kiss before. I reach for Gale’s hand and he takes it. We laugh as Haymitch falls off the stage. Effie says it isn’t funny. She’s right: nothing is funny.

Then Haymitch comes, vomits on the floor and passes out in his own sick. I grimace and Gale says, “You are so squeamish, Catnip. That’s something you’re going to have to put away in the Games.” I nod. “Not tonight though. I’ll deal with him, help me get him to his room and then go to bed.” I help carry him into his bathroom and Gale smiles, “Go to bed; I have this.”

“He’ll like you for it in the morning.” Gale smiles at me and then nudges Haymitch with his boot. The man groans and I laugh, “Or not remember it. Good night.”

He starts stripping the man, “Night.”

I go back to my room and change into pajamas. I leave my hair in the braid my mother put it in. I turn off the lights and slide under the sheets. I lie in the dark, feeling alone as the train flies along. After a couple of hours there’s a knock on the door, “Yes?”

“Are you awake?” asks Gale through the door.

“Yes. Come in.” I sit up as he opens the door. “Did you get him into bed?”

“Yeah, then I tried to sleep. Every time I start to drift off I realize I can’t hear Rory and Vick breathing and I start to panic and think something’s wrong, that they aren’t breathing. I realized that I can’t sleep alone, I haven’t done it since I was six and Rory left Mom and Dad’s.” I pull the covers back. He looks uncertain, like it might be impolite, like we've never slept in the woods together. “Do you mind?”

“No, I’ve been having the same problem.” He sits down and pulls his legs up. But we don’t lie down or pull the covers up. We sit in silence for a few minutes, thinking of the breath we should be hearing and the beds we miss. “Are you hungry?”

He shakes his head, “We ate more at dinner than we usually do in a week. Are you?”

“The bread will be stale tomorrow.”

Gale switches on the light. “It would be a waste.”

“We had his father’s bread for breakfast,” I say getting out of bed. I had left the bread on my dresser and as I bring it back to bed I say, “You could have told me.” I split the bread and hold out half to him as I climb back into bed.

“Not tonight.” He pulls the bread apart as he eats. “Do you remember when we traded two rabbits for three loaves of bread?”

Vick had been sick, some illness that just wouldn’t leave. He was so tired and dizzy even though he didn’t have a fever anymore. The meat wasn’t helping, he was too thin. After the bread he was still sick but so much stronger. He had energy for the first time in weeks. “It was a beautiful day,” I say.

“We went out to the meadow and sat in the grass while they played.”

“Posy was so little then.” I smile, remembering her toddling around; she’d been not quite three years old.

“Prim wove all those daisies into her hair. And you sang to Posy when she didn’t want to go home.”

We fall silent. “One of us will see them soon,” I say.

“We get bows, if we don’t see bows we make them.” I nod. “We don’t go into the Cornucopia. It’s only for the Careers. They always scatter stuff around it. We grab what’s closest to us and run.” I nod. He needs to talk and I don’t stop him although what he’s saying is common sense.

“We talk to Rue and say that we’ll look out for her. We have three days to train, right?” I nod, we’ve had to watch the Games our whole lives and we know a little of what goes on beforehand. “So, we focus on all the other skills there, we don’t let anyone know what our real skills are. You don’t touch a bow; I don’t touch wires. We show people we’re a solid team but we hide our strengths.” I nod. “We need to make people like us.”

He sighs and goes quiet. We’re not particularly likeable. Gale’s always had flocks of girls who thought he was handsome but we’ve never had many friends. We’ve never really needed them; we rely on each other. We’ve been able to feed our families and confide in one another. Gale has always ignored the girls. We’re too busy for friends, at least I thought we were but he has Peeta secretly, I don’t understand that. I don’t even know when they would have met. Gale and I are together so much of the time. I wonder what else I’ve missed and I wonder how I’m going to make people like me.

Then he says, “We need to start playing the Game. We’ll smile and wave and act happy to be here. And we need to be likeable in the interviews. We need these rich, terrible people to like us and send us gifts. We’re not smilers, and that’s fine in the Hob, people already like us but here we have to work for it. We can’t be rebels here.”

The words are so foreign and I wish we were in the woods where he can shout treasonous things and I can tune him out. Things are terrible at home but we have a system and for our families it works. “I never thought you would be willing to bow to the Capitol.”

“I never thought I would miss Posy’s fourth birthday while fighting for our lives in the arena. We’re going to do whatever we have to do to get one of us home to them.”

“So we’re going to be brutal killing machines?” I shake my head thinking about it. “I don’t think we can out-shine the Careers.”

“No, we can’t. There are two things they never cut away from: a bloody, vicious killing and interesting conversations.”

I nod, “But there is so much more killing than there is conversation.”

“We change that. They have always have traps for when it gets boring so we don’t let it. These vultures love it when they get to peek into the tributes’ heads.”

It’s true. Even between the Games, when they show clips from over the years, they always show the quiet moments when tributes talk and let some tiny, personal detail slip. People in the Capitol lap up secrets and other people’s lives. The tributes are commodities and the fact that we once had lives outside the Capitol fascinates them.

There are only ever one or two conversations that are intimate during a Game, never much, even allies don’t talk much, because they don’t want others to see their weaknesses. Those few conversations are played again and again, the girl from 7 who was raped by her uncle, the married eighteen year-old from District 9 who missed his three month old daughter, the blind girl 5 who talked about the smells of the arena not smelling like home. If we can capture their attention they might not send in the mutts, the poisons or any other unimaginable horrors.

Gale and I aren’t simply allies; we don’t need to worry about showing weakness. “So we open our hearts to the Capitol.” I can’t cry, I’m too tired and it wouldn’t help anything.

Gale nods, “Yes, if that’s what it takes. It’ll cut down on the Gamemakers making things ‘more interesting.’”

We won’t just be contending with the other tributes. The tributes we can kill but I’m not sure we’ll survive the arena.

The bread is finished and Gale turns out the light, “Get some sleep, Catnip.”

We lie down, pull up the covers and turn our backs to each other. I let his breathing lull me to sleep.

Chapter Text

Gale wakes me with a nudge. “It’s seven and I’m waking Haymitch. We’ll be in the Capitol by the afternoon.”

I blink at him and see the glass in his hand, “Is that a drink?”

He gives me a grim smile, he looks like he’s barely slept but the bed was so comfortable and I was so tired that I’d slept fine with him next to me. “I figured I would help him get out of bed.”

“We would get a drunk, wouldn’t we?”

He laughs and he actually sounds amused. “Well, nothing’s been easy for us so far. Get dressed.”

I dress in fine clothes, and feel so out of place. In the dining car I start to eat breakfast. Just like last night everything is delicious. Gale almost guides Haymitch into the room, sits him in a chair and hands him a fork. I can see he actually catches himself just as he’s about the pat Haymitch on the head like he would with any of his siblings when they’re half asleep and he gets them up in the morning. We eat silently for a few minutes in deference to Haymitch’s head. He goes to refill his glass but Gale places his hand gently over top.

He speaks softly as he says, “We have people like you in the Seam.” I don’t know what he means; we don’t have anyone so loud, garish or angry as Haymitch. “Mr. Aners’ wife died in the mine, his older son too, and his other boy, you must remember him: he was a tribute in the sixty-forth Games. Every morning he gets out of bed and has a drink just so he can face going down into the mine. He just drinks enough to take the edge off, never enough to get drunk, never enough to endanger the men and women he works with. Then he goes home and drinks himself to sleep. Mrs. Kadar’s husband and daughter died of the flu. She drinks all day and stays inside. She’s pretty in a broken-down-used-to-be-beautiful sort of a way and, now, she just hopes Cray will pick her by the end of the night.”

I’ve never really thought about why Haymitch drinks. But when Gale says it it becomes so obvious. Haymitch drinks to get through it. He might have the huge house and all the food he wants but he buys the same homemade alcohol as the rest of the district. He wasn’t even sober up for the reaping, but the reaping is probably worse than most days. He’d go mad if he wasn’t a drunk. He stumbles through the square ignoring everything around him and drinks alone.

Haymitch looks irritated and says, “Kid, you got no idea.” It sounds defensive and tired. He’s more pitiful than repugnant. I’ve seen him vomit in the street and I looked away, embarrassed for him. I feel like that again. But Gale doesn’t back down.

Instead he nods, “Maybe not but I know that you’ve coached forty-six kids to their death and you don’t have anyone at home.”

It matters that there is no one at home. I’m glad Gale has his mother and siblings because he can be so angry. He wouldn’t drink: he would flout the laws more obviously than we already do. He would rebel until he was executed in the square. I like to think that I’m part of what tempers him but I don’t know if Prim or I would be enough to hold him back if he lost them. He adores his family. He still brushes Vick’s hair even though he’s ten. He is completely unwilling to let go of them. If Rory’s name had come out of the bowl he wouldn’t have waited until the appropriate time to volunteer; he would have thrown punches at any Peacekeeper who touched his fourteen year-old brother.

Gale continues, “I figure at some point you have to give up. How long can you really care, or even try, for those kids? You have to try this time. You have to cut down on the liquor. We’re not twelve, one of us is going home but we can’t do that if you don’t do your part.” He keeps his voice so gentle but so confident.

I remember when I was eleven, and how hard snares were for me at first. I got frustrated and Gale said, “Catnip, I don’t have time for you to pout. Stop sulking and do what I do.” He spent the rest of the afternoon teaching me and in the end we left the forest with nothing but greens, some berries and a few fish. I felt badly for the small haul but Gale said, “Now you know how to set a snare we can get more food. We can have twice as many traps with two people to tend to them.” He said it in the same tone he’s using now.

Haymitch says nothing. Finally I say, “We don’t need training. We have skills. We need advice and sponsors and you have to be sober to help us.”

“Sort of sober,” Gale corrects me, “I doubt you could function if you were totally sober.” He removes his hand from the glass slowly, “Don’t get drunk.” Haymitch pours only a small amount of alcohol into the glass and tops it up with orange juice.

“What are your skills?” he asks after taking a sip.

“We can hunt, feed ourselves, we can fish,” says Gale. The tension lessens a bit and we start to eat again. Effie isn’t there because people in the Capitol sleep in the morning. They lose half their days. Even their children start school at eleven. Because she isn’t there we use our knives and forks. Haymitch doesn’t but he grew up in the Seam and he might not have learned as a child. It doesn’t matter because Gale and I don’t care.

Haymitch nods, “What else?”

“We’re a team,” I say. We’re trying to convince him and it’ll take some work. “You don’t have two tributes this year, you don’t need to try and get gifts for two separate people, we’ll always be together.”

“And we know each other, more than allies ever could, we’ll communicate all the time,” Gale sounds so confident and in this I agree completely. We are partners in so much and we wouldn’t be able to feed our families if we weren’t in step with each other.

“You’re not hunting.”

“Yes we are,” Gale and I say at the same time.

“One of us is going home,” says Gale.

Haymitch chuckles and says, “Got some other talents, too.” He falls silent and I open my mouth but Gale pinches my arm and I shut my mouth again and just eat. I want to talk, I want advice but Gale shakes his head. We’re wasting time and I feel like screaming. We don’t speak just eat. Eventually Haymitch says, “Everyone likes you right now. That’s good because you’re not very likeable. I’ve seen you in the Hob, they like you there because you fit in. This isn’t your world.”

He studies me, “You’re pretty enough to scrape by and you volunteered for your sister, you’ll play it as being girly and motherly. You need to fool the tributes and charm the public. Once you get in there you have to stay likeable but not half so girly. I don’t want you to waste time brushing your hair.” I nod.

I might have balked at his advice but seeing him through Gale’s eyes I understand. I can’t fight it because there is too much to fight. I’m not just trying to survive for Prim: if I can’t get home I’ve got to get Gale home. He turns to Gale and smiles, “You’re easier, so much easier.”

Gale blinks, “I’m not any more likable.”

“Katniss is pretty from the right angle you just look that way. You didn’t volunteer for a sibling, lover trumps sister.” That makes sense. Family is nowhere near as glamorous as romance. I think of the soft desperate words being broadcast to all of Panem. I wonder if that kiss was as startling to the rest of the country. Haymitch says, “Homosexuality is very fashionable. I can sell that pretty easily, it should help get you gifts.”

Gale asks, “What’s homosexuality?”

Haymitch laughs, and he keeps laughing for a long time. Gale raises an eyebrow at me but I shake my head. I have no idea what homosexuality is. Haymitch starts talking about how remiss sexual education is. Sexual education was disturbing, hours spent on why sex was a patriotic act and the importance of offspring. We were taught that we must repopulate the country. We were shown diagrams of positions that would increase a woman’s chance of getting pregnant. We learned that there used to be pills called birth control to stop pregnancy. But that is illegal now because children are needed. All I took away from the class was that I would never have sex as there was the chance I could get pregnant. If they want people to have children they shouldn’t kill twenty-three of them in the arena every year. The word homosexuality was never said.

He says, “A homosexual is a man or woman who is romantically interested in their own gender.”

Gale blink, “I didn’t know there was a word for it.”

Haymitch laughs again, “No, well, the Capitol doesn’t want you to think you exist. They want the population to grow. They don’t acknowledge you exist in the districts because the districts are breeding ground for workers. But there, in the city, it’s always stylish to be different. Make yourself look like an animal, dye your skin, have your eyes tattooed. Homosexuals barely exist and that makes them interesting.”

“Why do we barely exist?”

Haymitch explains that when a population is small nature designs it to breed more individuals but when a population grows larger homosexuals appear to slow growth so it doesn’t become unmanageable. It makes sense. Nature always finds a way to regulate things: four legs for stability, different forms matching different animals’ needs, plants that grow together because they need each other and thrive in each other’s presence. There is usually a pattern in nature, a balance. He tells us that before the cataclysm eight percent of the country was attracted to their own sex but that was wiped out with the strife and now it’s less than half a percent.

“There are about fifteen thousand homosexuals in Panem. The people in the Capitol who sham it, do it because it’s popular to be strange, they’ve never seen the genuine article before,” says Haymitch. “They love rare things and you’re one of the rarest and you’re handsome. So’s the baker’s kid. Pretty and unusual? That’s going to get you gifts.”

“How do you know this?” I ask, “How do you know the numbers?”

“People love to talk fashion in the city. I need to be just as friendly as you when I’m hitting people for money and asking them all about themselves is a great way to get in with them. They love to talk about themselves and if you listen they’re more likely to fork out. ‘Aren’t I lucky to have been born this way? There are only fifteen thousand of us in the whole country.’ And, ‘I only realized later in life that I am a ‘mo and I am so glad I did because my lover really is the most stunning accessory I’ve ever had.’” He studies Gale for a moment and says, “But you and that boy? It was so obviously real and they’ll be envious that you weren’t faking it. And they will be fascinated with you.” He looks me up and down, “Just try not to offend anyone and ruin it for yourself okay, sweetheart?”

I feel myself bristle but Gale nudges me and says, “So I’ll be the façade for the Capitol and you’ll be the actually useful one.” I laugh at that.

“That will work for you.” He nods, “You’re not a team. You’re family. Seen you laughing in the Hob, talking low with heads together, shouting at each other’s siblings: ‘Vick, if you don’t stop it I’ll make you stand in corner’; ‘Primrose, if you don’t get down from there right now I’m telling your sister and you’ll go to bed without dinner.’ That is something you’ll be selling by yourselves in the arena. That Catnip thing? Keep doing that; it’s cute,” He says it with a sneer of disgust but I like it. It’s comforting and Gale’s eyes narrow slightly as he puts an arm lightly across the back of my chair.

“So,” says Gale slightly more coldly than before. He’s offended now and he’s shutting down the walls. He wants to be home as badly as I do and we’re each other’s link. He doesn’t like anyone mocking that. “Any basic advice?”

“Do whatever your stylists say and stay alive.” He drains his drink as Effie walks into the room.

He leaves the room and neither of us pays attention to Effie’s wittering. We spend the day eating because every calorie counts before we have to go into the arena. Haymitch tells us again that we must do as our stylists say. Then he starts drinking heavily but he’s put in his day’s work so I don’t care.

Even as delicious as everything is, as exotic and new and exciting as all the food is, it is still a thrill when Gale brings the box of cookies out from his room. My box is still on my dresser but they won’t go stale as quickly as the bread. Gale puts the box between us and we examine them before eating them. They’re each little works of art, so delicately iced with realistic flowers. The ones with dandelions are my favorite.

Compared to the food we’ve been presented on the train they seem almost quaint, but beautiful in their simplicity. They’re from home and decorated by someone important to Gale and they are so much more precious than any of the culinary masterpieces we’ve been served. Haymitch is drunk but when Effie reaches for a cookie he is lightening fast as he slaps her hand. It makes a sharp noise and she pulls back looking stunned, “Those aren’t yours,” he says calmly.

She talks about a lack of manners and how you can take a boy from the Seam but you can’t make him Capitol before leaving the room in a huff. Haymitch watches after her and Gale says, “Do you ever get used to the people of the Capitol?”

Haymitch shakes his head still looking at the door she left through. “You learn how they tick but knowing that doesn’t make them understandable.”

“And being a mentor means you have to deal with them a lot,” I say.

He nods, “I have some friends in the Capitol but they’re all past victors. They’re like us and they know what it’s like to live through the arena. Your whole life changes if you get out and not all of it is good change. It’s better than being dead but…” He stops, shakes his head, clearly not wanting to talk about it. “No, you never get used to Capitol people.”

Gale and I exchange a look and I hold out the box to Haymitch, “Have a cookie.”

“Are you sure?” he asks and looks skeptical.

“Yes,” says Gale, “have a cookie.”

Haymitch examines the box before taking one covered in daisies. Just like us he savors it. He eats around the decoration and eats the bottom off, leaving the decoration in his hand. He studies it for a few seconds before popping it in his mouth. He doesn’t crunch it; he lets the sugar melt into his tongue. Effie is right: if you’re from the Seam you’ll never really leave.

Chapter Text

When we finally pull into the city, Haymitch gestures to the window. He sort of slurs when he says, “Do your thing.”

I hold Gale’s hand and we wave and smile at the huge crowd. I jump up and down with excitement like this is the best thing that has ever happened to me. Gale drops my hand and wraps his arm around my shoulder while laughing like he thinks my enthusiasm is charming. The city behind them is stunning, shocking and obscene in its opulence. We travel past the crowd and out of sight. Gale doesn’t drop his arm right away but we turn to Haymitch. “How was that?” I ask.

“I almost believed it,” said Haymitch. “Convince me and the whole city will buy it.” He sucks his ice cubes and pours himself another drink.

When we get to the station he actually falls out onto the platform. I pick him up and Gale hands me a bag from the train, “Your mother’s dress and your cookies.”

“I forgot them.”

“I didn’t,” he says.

Then we’re whisked away and separated from each other. In the Remake Center I am plucked and waxed and I feel like I’m being tortured. I am naked but I don’t feel uncomfortable because the prep team doesn’t look like real people. It all hurts but I don’t argue or complain until the green one, Octavia, says that she’ll get rid of my dress, the old rag she calls it, like she’s doing me a favor. I panic and shout, “No, you can’t!”

A man walks in and looks between us. “Octavia, put Katniss’ best dress down and apologize for whatever you just said.” He reaches for a robe as she does so. He doesn’t look like them, he looks normal except for a slight touch of eyeliner. He tells them to leave and says, “I’m sorry about them… they do grow on you.”

He introduces himself as Cinna and asks me about my hair and my mother’s dress. He tells me this is his first Games, that he requested 12. And we eat a sumptuous lunch that makes me feel ill because I wonder what Prim, Rory, Vick and Posy are eating without us there to make sure they have something. Cinna says that I must find everyone in the Capitol despicable. I look at the food and look at him, “I don’t know what my kids are eating. I know Peeta said he wouldn’t let them starve but… We’re eating this and I don’t know what they’re eating.”

Cinna nods and is silent for a few moments, “I can’t do anything for them but I can make you shine and outside the arena that is what counts in this game.”

He tells me his plan of fire. It sounds terrifying. “Will Gale wear the same thing?”

“Yes, Portia and I been planning this for weeks.”

“Good. If I go up in flames I really don’t want to be by myself.”

He laughs, “It’s perfectly safe.”

He does my makeup and it’s all so simple, “Is this enough? People here dye their eyes.”

He smiles, “We’re proving that more is not better. You’re beautiful.”

I’ve never really thought about looks. I’m too busy for anything more than hygiene. I get as much coal dust off my skin as possible and look as presentable as I can so that Prim and I don’t end up in the children’s home. Beyond that it’s never mattered to me. “Haymitch says I’m good enough to scrape by.”

“Haymitch doesn’t have time to notice beauty. Believe me: you don’t need the makeup.” He helps me into a tight unitard and I feel awkward being naked in front of him even though I hadn’t cared about the prep team. “I’ll bring your dress and cookies to your rooms.”

“Thank you,” I mean it.

“Smile and wave.” I nod. He leads me out the chariot where Gale holds out a hand to me. “Be a team,” says Cinna.

“I’m not letting go anytime soon,” says Gale. He squeezes my hand as they light us on fire and he’s clearly as terrified as I am. But it doesn’t hurt; it tickles.

“Chins up,” says Cinna.

As we pull away Gale smiles but through his teeth he says, “They waxed my face.”

“That’s nothing: they waxed every hair off my body.”

“My face.”

“My everywhere,” I respond.

“They couldn’t just kill us?” he asks as he’s smiling and waving and I’m blowing kisses. Gale beams and raises our joined hands and he sort of leans against me. We pass a screen and we’re on fire, “Wow.” I am stunned at the spectacle we make. We keep smiling but now it’s lightly more real: I feel more confident. Every eye is on us and, seeing us on the screen, I can understand why.

“One of us is going it win,” I say through my smile. We’ve said it a lot but it’s the first time I’ve really believed it.

Gale nods as we wave. I am relieved when it’s all over and Cinna and Portia put us out. “You were perfect,” says Cinna and I agree.

We’re ushered into a place called the Training Center. All the tributes are looking angrily at us but Gale ignores them and keeps our fingers locked as we head up to the twelfth floor. We’re on the top floor and we’re left only with Rue and the boy from 11. “I like your apple outfit,” I say to Rue.

“You were both beautiful on fire,” she says.

Gale smiles at her, “We were terrified. We thought we were going to go into flames.”

“You didn’t look scared,” she replies.

“We need sponsors,” I say.

She opens her mouth but the boy says, “Rue, this is our floor.”

She falls silent as the doors open, clearly cowed by his words. After the door shuts Gale says, “We’ll get more chances.” The doors open on our floor and Gale says, “The elevators here aren’t terrifying like the one in the Justice Building.”

Everyone claps as we go into our rooms. Cinna and Portia are there and they look thrilled with us. Cinna helps me undress in my room, which is good because there is no way I can out of the unitard without help. Then I change into a silk blouse and black sleek pants. And again I wonder how long I could feed my family with the money it cost to buy these clothes. I see my dress hanging up and the cookies on my bed with Madge’s pin, “Thank you for bringing my things.”

“You brought them from home.” He brushes my hair out and then braids it more simply. “I wasn’t going to let anyone take them.”

We go out to dinner and Effie and Haymitch are more civil because of the company. Effie comments about how well Haymitch can use a knife and fork when he makes an effort. That’s when Gale and I put our forks aside. We go one step further and eat off each other’s plates. We use bread to bring sauces to our mouths and lick our fingers exaggeratedly. Cinna can’t stop smirking and both Portia and Haymitch are fighting not to laugh while Effie looks horrified. A young woman walks in, a servant, and I drop my bread. Gale looks up and I see the horror on his face. He recognizes her, the girl from the woods. She and a boy were running but they couldn’t outrun a hovercraft and we did nothing to try and help them.

“I am so sorry,” says Gale.

She looks horrified that he’s talking to her but I know she knows who we are. We’re told about Avoxes and assured that we can’t possibly know her. She is standing behind Effie, Cinna and Portia. She shakes her head at us quickly and Haymitch looks between her and us.

“Sorry,” I say, “we thought you were someone else.” I pick up my bread and dip it into a green sauce on Gale’s plate but I can barely swallow.

As we leave table Cinna whispers, “I liked the show.”

It takes me a moment to realize he’s talking about the way we ate. It had gone straight out of my mind with the appearance of the girl. To him the Avox is no one. I know she wouldn’t want me to speak about her and I can at least give her my silence so I whisper back, “I think it’s bad mannered to take children away from home year after year and never bring even one of them back.”

In the other room we sit down to watch the opening ceremony. As Gale puts his arm around my shoulder, I lean in against him. We look incredible on fire. “Thank you,” says Gale to Portia and Cinna and they both smile. Rue looks terrified on her chariot and Gale says, “We’ll talk to her tomorrow.”

“Who?” asks Haymitch

“Rue, the little girl,” I say.

Haymitch looks horrified, “You want to win and you’re picking a little girl as an ally?”

Gale nods and before Haymitch can speak he says, “We’ll worry about what happens in the arena you worry about getting us gifts. We want her. People love it when the older kids help the younger kids.”

“And they like it even more when the big kids turn around and kill the little ones,” Haymitch says.

“Not going to happen, we’ll help her as long as we can,” I say.

Gale’s arm tightens around my shoulder. “We’ll talk to her tomorrow.”

Haymitch studies us and says, “I wish I wasn’t sober.”

“No one asked you to be,” Gale reminds him in his gentle voice.

But instead of having a drink Haymitch starts talking about training and says we can train together or separately. But there is no way we’re going to separate. Just as we’re about to go to bed Haymitch says, “You should see the roof: it’s got a great view. But it’s very windy up there so you’ll have trouble hearing yourselves. You want see it?” We don’t need any prompting so we nod and say goodnight to everyone. In the elevator we don’t speak. The roof is windy but Haymitch pulls us into a slightly sheltered corner, “No bugs up here and the wind kills any sound that would travel. A twelve year old?”

“She reminds Katniss of Prim,” says Gale.

“And you’re just going to go with that?” Haymitch asks him.

Gale shrugs, “I don’t want to kill a little kid. She’s not going to hurt us that badly.”

Haymitch shakes his head, clearly irritated. “How do you know the Avox?”

“We saw her, running through the woods,” I say. “She looked so tired and scared.”

“She was with a boy who got speared through the chest by a hovercraft. They must have been running for days.” says Gale. “We hid but she saw us as the hovercraft lifted her and she screamed for us to help.”

“She made eye contact with me,” I can remember the horror in her face. I can remember the way my limbs wouldn’t move and the way Gale and I couldn’t meet each other’s eye for the rest of the day.

“We crouched lower and waited for them leave before we ran back to the fence,” Gale says. “We didn’t help them.”

“When was this?” asks Haymitch.

Gale thinks about it, “Three years ago.”

“You should be ashamed of yourselves,” he nods, “A fifteen and thirteen year-old not standing up to a Capitol hovercraft for two strangers, while they were already breaking the law and outside the fence, when there were even younger children waiting for them back home, when there was no way to win against a machine like that.” He shakes his head, “You’re both idiots. Don’t bring guilt for things you had no control over into the arena. You could never have helped them, all you could do was be killed or have your tongues cut out. That girl knows that and you do too.”

We both nod. He has his back to the skyline and I say, “You aren’t looking at the city.”

He shakes his head and doesn’t turn around. “I prefer the meadows and woods. Tall buildings make me nervous. I would have been a good miner.” It’s true. He looks more out of place here then he does back home. He glances over his shoulder and says. “You go ahead and enjoy it. I’m gonna go have a drink. Don’t stay up late; we start training tomorrow.”

He leaves and I go to the banister to look out over the city. Gale comes and stands next to me. “I’m sorry about Rue,” I say.

He says nothing for a moment and then says, “One of us is going home, Katniss.” It’s the first time since the reaping that he’s used my given name and I don’t like it. “If it’s me I’m going to hug the kids so much. And I won’t care if Rory thinks he’s too old for it or if Prim will silently be wishing I was you. I will hold them and be glad to be home.” He sounds wistful at the idea of seeing them. “But if I ignore the fact that she reminds you of Prim then I won’t go home. If I was alone I could leave Rue for the Cornucopia. I’d feel badly but I could do it. But if I go in there with you and make you choose me and not help her then I won’t be me. It won’t be my arms holding them. I won’t do that to you. She won’t slow us down too badly.”

He places his hand over mine but he is still looking out at the city. I understand why Haymitch doesn’t like it but it’s stunning: so much glass and electricity and buildings in colors that could never exist in nature. Everything is so clean that it sparkles. I wish the kids could see it but never want them to be within a hundred miles of the place. We watch the shiny cars drive by and the people walk past. No one here seems to have gone to bed but, if they all sleep as late as Effie, it’s not surprising. Gale finally says, “I’ll wear my heart on my sleeve, tell them my secrets. I’ll kill my peers and trick myself to believe it’s just hunting. And I will come out in one piece. But if I turn my back on you I won’t be me. Whoever gets home, we have to still be us.”

There is nothing I can do except kiss his cheek. He gives me a sad half laugh. “Let’s go to bed,” I say.

“Can I sleep in your bed?”

“I’d like you to.” We go back downstairs and I go to my room and change. There’s a knock at my door and I say, “I’m dressed.”

Gale opens the door wearing soft looking pants and a t-shirt. “If we can keep our clothes,” he begins but I cut him off.

“I’ll bring your clothes home for Vick and Rory.”

“Thank you. I wish the Games were in winter; you’d bring them warm coats.”

“Well they’ll swim in them so they can always wear a couple of layers. And they’re all good quality clothes. You can give mine to your mother and mine and then Prim can have them and they’ll still be fine for Posy.”

He nods and goes to the bed. He climbs under the covers while I grab the cookies. We eat a few in silence. I have a white violet, a yellow jessamine and a dotted horsemint while Gale has a gaillardia, a rhododendron and a large-flowered trillium. They’re all flowers from the meadow and they’re perfectly reproduced. “We looked great on fire,” says Gale.

“They loved us.”

“They loved you,” he says, “you were so perfectly girly.”

“Shut up.”

He laughs and tugs on my braid, “We both need to be charming and tonight you were perfect.”

I roll my eyes and say, “You looked incredibly handsome.”

He shrugs, “I am handsome.” That makes me laugh and I can’t stop laughing. He smiles and waits for me to stop. He closes the lid of the cookie box and puts it on the bedside table. He turns off his light and looks at me expectantly but I’m still laughing. “I’m insulted that you’re laughing.”

“It was the way you said it,” I say trying to get my breathing back to normal. He reaches past me and turns out my light.

“Get some sleep, Catnip. The more sleep you get over these nights the more you can afford to lose in the arena.”

That thought sobers me and I say, “You looked awful this morning. Will you sleep better tonight?”

“Yeah, just stay close… I might have looked awful this morning but I’m still handsome.”

I chuckle as I settle down; my back is pressed firmly against his.

Chapter Text

I wake up to light outside the window and check the clock it’s ten to six and, as peaceful as he looks, I nudge Gale. He blinks slowly at me and I say, “It’s six.” He sits up slowly and stretches, “How did you sleep?”

“Excellently. Thank you for letting me stay.”

“It wasn’t just for you,” I remind him. “I’m showering tonight. What did you bring Haymitch yesterday?”

“I don’t know: they aren’t marked. He seems to drink the dark brown ones. Be careful, he sleeps with a knife and slashes it about randomly.”

“Good to know.” I hand him a tulip cookie, “Here’s breakfast. Keep your eyes shut: I’m changing.”

“No, I’ll get up too. I’ll shower and meet you in the dining room.”

I brush out my hair and braid it back before changing and eating a cookie with a rose on it. Out in the main rooms I pour Haymitch a glass of something brown and add an ice cube before going to his room. The hand holding the knife is over the covers. It looks sharp so instead of getting close I kick him in the thigh. He starts to thrash around with his blade. I step back quickly and wait. He blinks a few times before calming down. “Good morning. It’s past six,” I say and hold out the drink. “Gale’s taking a shower: he’ll meet us in the dining room.” He nods and takes a sip. “Are you awake enough for me to leave?” He nods and takes another sip.

Out in the dining room I start to eat, the same way I’ve eaten everything since we got here: in large quantities. Haymitch comes out with his hair combed into neater curls than usual. He spreads a pancake with butter and jam before folding it into a sandwich. “Did you sleep?” he asks. “Or did you two stay up giggling all night?”

“We slept well, thank you,” I cut a sausage into small sections and load up my fork with them and bits of an orange. Gale comes and sits next to me. “You smell funny.” I sniff him, “Aniseed.”

“I hit buttons until I got what looked like water.”

I nod, “Haymitch, do you know how to work the showers? I don’t want to go into the arena smelling of anything.”

“When you hunt you want to be scentless,” Gale adds.

“I’ll show you later,” Haymitch nods. “Today, I want you to do strength and survival skills. You’ve got the killing down. Try everything. Don’t make friends. If you want to be a team then you don’t need allies, I can sell the two of you alone: 12 against the world. If you get the girl let me know. I’ll get a strategy for that too.”

“Thank you,” says Gale.

I nod in agreement and say, “When can we go down?”

“Once we’ve finished eating and you change.”

“Change?” I ask.

“You present yourselves as a team. So you’re going to dress as a team. Think of it as a uniform for the Un-Careers.” I nod. “In the Hob you sometimes get irritated with each other and walk away so you don’t end up shouting. Don’t do that here. You are cheerful best friends when you’re in the Training Center.”

“You said that we have to hide our strength can we fake weaknesses?” asked Gale.

“Only if it’s believable, I don’t want you to be hamming around and making it obvious that it’s an act.” After breakfast he presents us with garment bags. “I was always going to dress my tributes the same, give them some sort of unity. But after the show you made last night Cinna and Portia gave these an extra flair.”

We go to our rooms and when I open my bag I see what he means. The pants and shirt are black soft material with 12 stitched into the sleeves of the shirt. But the shoulders and back of the shirt are embroidered in flames that move as I angle the material and the pants have flames embroidered up the sides, like fire lapping at my leg. There are black sneakers that fit my feet perfectly. Back in the main room I see that Gale is dressed exactly the same. He holds out a hand and I take it.

He looks good in it and I say, “Should we be dressed in fire? It makes a big statement for two people pretending to be weak.”

Haymitch shakes his head, “It seems sad. The tributes’ll look at you and think, ‘They’re going to die bloody and they don’t even know it.’ It will look laughable.” That actually makes sense and I wonder how much time he spends thinking about these things. How can a man who is always drunk be thinking about such tiny details? He looks us up and down and says, “One last thing, sweetheart. You’re going to be our weakness. You need to visibly rely on him. It’s a story that’s easy to sell: strong handsome boy taking care of his pretty best friend. The other tributes will buy it.”

Gale’s short sleeves show the handprint bruises left on his arms by his younger siblings and I nod because I’ll do whatever it takes to get one of us home to them. Haymitch has never gotten anyone through the arena but he’s never had anyone like us. I nod and Haymitch half guides us to the elevators.

Downstairs Haymitch points out the different training stations. There aren’t many people there training and when I ask why Haymitch smirks, “It’s not seven yet, sweetheart. Most people are sleeping before the arena.” He finishes by saying, “Learn to start a fire without matches, do strength, learn some weapons. As for camouflage I can already tell you the basics: get muddy, stay out of sight.” He goes and leans against the wall as we go to learn about making fires.

We tease each other and laugh and keep our heads together as a show for the few tributes there so early. Then we do strength training with big weights but Gale whispers, “You can’t put on muscle in three days.”

“No, but we can at least train our bodies into moving like this,” I whisper.

After a half hour Gale says, “Let’s try out the weapons.”

We try out throwing knives, swords and axes. We get a feel for them in our hands but we’re never going to have weapons like these. These will be in the Cornucopia and we’re not going near there. We’ll make bows and then kill for better ones. We might get knives but I’m more hopeful for utilitarian ones that can be used to hunt and to cut things, not big showy weapons.

Rue is hiding, always moving and watching everyone. Every time we see her we smile. At lunch time we mill around until we can catch Rue alone. She’s scampered up one of the big climbing poles. Everyone else has gone and, as we’re not concerned about showing our abilities to her, we climb up the poles on either side of her.

Gale swings his legs, the way he always does when he’s relaxed in a tree. “Hi, Rue, I’m Gale; this is Katniss. We’re going to be a team. We want you on our team.”

She blinks at us, studying the way we’re sitting so comfortably, “I didn’t know you could climb… you don’t seem very good at anything.”

“No, we don’t want the Careers to know anything about us,” I say. “We need surprise on our side.”

She studies my face, “Why would you want to be with me?”

“You’re really fast, quiet and you can climb,” I say, talking about Prim would be a bad idea.

“We could use someone with those skills,” Gale says then adds, “I bet you have other skills. You’re hiding just like us, right?”

She says nothing and I say, “Well, you think about it and let us know.”

“Please don’t tell anyone we can climb,” says Gale before climbing back down. “Even if you don’t want to be on our team we don’t want to be enemies.”

“We want to be a team,” I say before following Gale down.

In the dining room we stay away from the other tributes. As Effie isn’t there we use our utensils but Gale keeps swapping food between our plates saying, “Try this. You’ll like it.” And, “Oh that looks good; I’m having a bite.” It makes me laugh. We eat fast because we’re not sure how long we have and when time doesn’t run out we just keep eating. “I wonder how much weight you can gain in a week,” he says softly.

“More weight than muscle, that’s for sure,” I reply. Then I fork an orange mush onto his plate, “Try that: it’s really good.”

After lunch Gale says, “Let’s learn about setting snares and different knots.” It confuses me because Haymitch told us not to show our skills. But when we go to the snaring station we both make really poor snares that would never catch anything. Then I realize why we’re there. Gale is pulling the wires gently, and tugging them between his fingers: he’s testing the types of wire we might encounter in the arena. We learn new knots and actually make an effort; they could be useful.

We learn about shelter, how to weave roofs and find natural shelter. We try out the spears and learn to find balance when throwing them but, again, spears are something we aren’t likely to use in the arena. Then it’s time for dinner and before Effie can say anything about table manners we’re already using our fingers and eating off each other’s plates. I eat until I feel ill and I can tell Gale is doing the same thing. Afterwards Haymitch gestures to us and we go up to the roof with him.

He keeps his back to the city as he speaks, “You did well today. You need a story for the arena.” I exchange a look with Gale. We already have our story; it’s our lives. He must see our confusion and says, “You need a reason for why you’re so good with bows. You have never handled a bow before this week. You’ve never had a reason to. They’re illegal. The snares you can explain away. Anyone is allowed to kill and eat vermin: bats, mice, rats and squirrels so that’s how you learned snares. You climbed up roofs to talk by yourselves at home and that’s why you can scale things. You’ve learned edible plants in the Training Center. But how do you know bows? Knowing skills you shouldn’t have is fine if you’re going to die in the arena but if you get out — and they know you have an illegal talent — you need an excuse, some reason why it’s not illegal.”

Gale responds quickly, “Slingshots. Katniss has a slingshot and she taught me how to use it. That can be our story. When I was little I had one and it really is the same thing it’s just that a bow does it better.”

Haymitch nods, “So tomorrow use the slingshots in the Training Center. Get good at them. Show the Careers that fake talent and make sure the Gamemakers see you being handy with them.” We nod and then Gale yawns. “Go to bed. Sleep as long as you can. I want you well rested before you go into the arena.”

We nod but I say, “Haymitch, will you show me how to make the shower be scentless?”

Downstairs we go into my bathroom and he shows us both the buttons to get the water we want. It’s scentless but has soap and a deodorant in it. They both leave so I can wash off the sweat from the day. I love the shower. It’s just like hot rain and it feels amazing as it hits my muscles that have been used all day. I close my eyes and pretend that I’ve been caught in the forest in a summer storm. And when I step out of the shower I smell like nothing but a faint trace of my natural smell; it’s comforting because I don’t want to smell like this place or the people who will bet on how long Gale and I will survive.

I dress in silk pajamas that feel strange against my hairless skin and tie my hair back without braiding it and it’s a little after eight when Gale knocks on my door and climbs into my bed. I eat a lily cookie and Gale has one with ivy on it before we turn out the lights without speaking. I am exhausted from today and I fall asleep easily.

Chapter Text

I wake to a touch on shoulder and Gale says, “It’s seven.” He’s clearly just showered. “I’m going to wake Haymitch.” He holds out the cookies and I take a dandelion. I dress in my clothes from yesterday but realize they smell clean. They must have been laundered in the night and replaced. It scares me to know someone came and went without waking me. But I’ll be vigilant in the arena whereas I know that no one can kill me when I’m here in the Center. I braid my hair quickly and go to the dining room where Gale is already eating.

There is a sweet stew made of lamb and plums that I eat with a sweet, dense bread. It’s delicious and I hold out a piece of bread, “Try this.”

He smiles, “Effie isn’t here: you could use a fork.”

“There’s really no reason to use a fork.”

He laughs and tries it, “Wow. Taste my egg thing.”

“It’s called an omelet,” says Haymitch as he walks into the room and sits down. The omelet is fluffy and light in my mouth. Gale and I push our plates so that they’re between us. “Today, learn how to make fishhooks and show off your skills with the slingshots.” We both nod, knowing that the rooms aren’t completely secure. “Don’t touch the bows. They’re the same physics. We’re not going downstairs so early this morning. I want to do hand-to-hand with you and I don’t want the other tributes to see.”

Once we’ve finished eating Haymitch asks, “Have you ever been in a fight before?”

“Only once,” Gale replies. “And it wasn’t really a fight.”

“When were you in a fight?” I ask because I never knew about that.

“A boy at school said something vulgar about you so I punched him and he fell on the ground and that was really the end of it.”

“Great story,” Haymitch says sarcastically. “Now, when you’re in a fight, a real fight, there are no rules: you kick, bite, scratch and gouge if it will help you survive. Go for the groin and the eyes, pull their hair: anything to get away. I don’t think either of you have the strength to kill someone with your bare hands.” He teaches us how to stand, how to breathe, how to get out of holds and spot a place to land a hit.

He spends hours going over it all again and again until we get it all. There are dummies that he uses to teach us how to throw a punch. And finally he says, “You need to know what it feels like to hit flesh and bone. So hit me.”

“Are you sure?” asks Gale but I don’t hesitate. I want to know if it hurts. He keeps saying it does but I’ve never seen a Peacekeeper flinch after hitting someone. I punch him as hard as I can after I’ve planted my feet the way he’s shown me. I put my weight behind my arm and lean into it.

And it hurts. It really hurts. The bones in my hand shift as I hit his face. I look at my hand wondering if people who habitually punch other people get calluses. When my father first taught me how to shoot, the bow’s string hurt my fingers and I thought I would have to learn to become accustom to the pain. But after only a few weeks I didn’t feel any pain at all, the skin on the tips of my fingers had thickened. Haymitch starts to laugh and I think he must be laughing at how weak I am but when I look up I almost recoil in surprise.

“Sweetheart, that was worth being almost sober,” he says. He has blood dripping from his nose which is now off center. “Okay, Gale, are you going to let a girl outshine you?” Gale hits him and pulls a face, clearly it hurts his hand too. But Haymitch shakes his head, “Let her do the hitting. I’m going to medical. It feels broken.”

He pushes a button on the wall and Avoxes come in carrying huge trays of food. The redhead girl gives us freezing cold purple bags. He nods toward the cold bags, “Keep those on your hands: it’ll stop any swelling. Once you’ve eaten as much as you can, go downstairs and work with the slingshots and fishhooks. We’ll do this again tonight.” He looks at me and says, “If I meet anyone I’m saying Gale did this. You’re not just our fake weakness; you’re the secret weapon.”

“Sorry about your nose,” I say.

He laughs again and puts his hand up to his nose which is bleeding a lot. He sniffs and then looks at his now bloody fingers. “Go eat.”

Once he’s gone Gale starts smiling; the smile keeps almost breaking. He pours himself a glass of orange juice and starts giggling. By the time he starts putting food on his plate he’s laughing hard. “I didn’t even see you move and then he was bleeding. It was so sudden.”

“My hand hurts,” I say and that makes him laugh harder. “Does your hand hurt?”

“Probably not as badly as your does,” he laughs and then he starts eating in earnest, keeping his right hand under the purple bag.

Once we’ve eaten as much as we can we go downstairs. We start out just playing with the slingshots. We mess around but really we’re getting used to the feel of them in our hands. Then we start using them in earnest. People watch us hit every possible target and we go for about forty minutes. And then Gale hits the huge boy from 2 on the cheek with a small pellet. “Oh, sorry!” he calls and he sounds genuinely apologetic but there is merriment in his eyes. The boy lunges at him but the other Careers hold him back. “I’m really sorry! I was aiming at the target behind you.” The boy from 2 knows he’s lying.

The girl from 4 says, “You’ll get him in the arena.”

Once they turn away and get back into what they were doing I whisper, “Baiting the Careers? What are you doing?”

“I don’t like him,” he whispers back.

“You don’t need to like them you need to kill them. That’s easier when they haven’t really noticed you.”

“He noticed me with a slingshot,” says Gale. “It’s not a real weapon.”

We go back to playing. There is a snack table and we use the slingshots to aim food at each other’s mouths. Afterwards we “learn” how to make fishhooks. We’re praised for how quickly we learn to fashion them from bone, wood, barbed wire. We climb in front of the others but we purposefully miss the handholds. I even allow myself to fall once. Gale laughs and promises me we’ll get better. He acts like he’s really hopeful we can learn in a day. And he pretends to attempt to teach me. But the way he’s acting makes it obvious that a boy who is so weak at climbing could never teach someone else to do it. We stay away from the bows because we don’t want anyone to associate us with anything more dangerous than the slingshots. We spend two hours pretending to learn how to climb but we’re wasting time we could spend learning things.

We go to the edible plant station and Gale whispers, “The things in the arena might be different from what we can get back home and we might be able to figure out something about the arena from what we can eat.”

We pore over the books for the rest of the afternoon. They talk about what’s edible but not about what’s poisonous. Maybe everything that’s not in the books is poisonous but that means we would need to learn absolutely everything in the book to be able to spot what was off limit. We look at the animals to see what meat we can get. It all seems like normal food. I can’t pick up anything about the arena from the information we’re given.

After about an hour and a half Rue and the boy from her district come and sit down with us. He says, “Rue says you want her as an ally. Why?”

“I’m sure she has skills,” says Gale.

“She’s twelve you’re eighteen,” says the boy.

“Hey!” Rue interjects. The boy shoots her a look and she stops.

Gale opens his mouth but I speak, “She reminds me of my little sister.”

The boy studies me; he looks skeptical, “That blonde girl?” He looks at Rue’s dark hair, skin and eyes.

“She had the same terrified look,” I shrug.

And Rue speaks to him, “This way I won’t slow you down. You have a better chance without me. And if I don’t go with them you won’t leave me.”

“Rue, you don’t know them,” he says but he sounds like he wants to be convinced.

“Thresh, if I’m old enough to go into the arena I’m old enough to pick my own allies. Besides, the Careers want you on their side.”

“I’m not going with the Careers,” he says vehemently. Then he looks at Gale and me, “You hurt her and I’ll come for you.” He’s huge and I believe him. Then he looks at Rue. “You still have time to change your mind. Stay here: get to know them and we’ll talk again at dinner.” He pats her head as he stands.

Chaff is by the wall and he watches us for the next two hours as we talk to Rue. It’s like he’s waiting for us to attack her and then Haymitch goes over and they speak with their heads close together. Chaff visibly relaxes. I hadn’t noticed Haymitch come in but his face looks like he was never hit. I give him a girly, enthusiastic wave. He raises an eyebrow and gives me a lazy wave in return. We’re quiet as we tell her our plan for how to deal with the Cornucopia.

At dinner Haymitch says, “Rue is coming with you. You’re not going to kill her, right? I promised Chaff you aren’t going to kill her.”

“We’re not killing a twelve-year-old,” says Gale firmly.

“Okay,” Haymitch nods. “Did you tell her what to do?”

“Grab whatever is close to her and run like hell to high ground or cover where there might be water in the same direction as us,” I nod.

“Good. I can work with this: two skilled, attractive best friends taking care of a cute little one. I’m glad she’s cute. That’ll do more to help you get gifts than any skill she has.”

It’s cold thinking but it’s true. “How’s your nose?” I ask not knowing what else to say.

“Fine, I told Chaff that Gale did it. Rue is your ally not Thresh. I’ll tell him once you’re inside.” We eat a ton of food. Afterward Haymitch says, “Let’s go up to the roof to get a breath of fresh air before we start sparring.” I know he hates the roof so it must be some other lesson. We follow him and we go to the same spot as last time. “You’re not going to play the Games traditionally and that’s fine. I think it’s the best way to get one of you out of there. But the thing is that if you win in a way they don’t like they will punish you.”

“We’ll deal with that once we’re out,” I say.

“You start laying the groundwork in the arena.”

“And how do we do that?” asks Gale.

“Talk about the people you love as much as possible. Make the Capitol adore them.”

“Why?” I ask.

“Because there is a reason why, as Gale put it, I don’t have anyone at home. I won the Games in a way they didn’t like. So talk about those kids, your mothers and Peeta as much as possible and make it so that when they come back for the Victory Tour they have to be in the video. Make them so beloved that come next reaping they’ll be featured in the film. They can’t kill celebrities. They’ll have to punish you directly and we’ll see what they come up with.”

I feel horrified. Gale says, “Haymitch.”

“Don’t,” says Haymitch sharply. “Make your families famous and prominent and then they can’t kill them.” Gale takes a breath and Haymitch repeats, “Don’t.” He walks away and says, “I’ll see you downstairs in five minutes.”

Once he’s gone Gale says, “I can’t believe I said that. There aren’t any only children in the Seam.”

“I was worried about them starving to death,” I say, “I thought we were the only the ones in danger… I can’t believe he told us.”

Gale shrugs, “We’re all from the Seam and we’re actively planning to manipulate the Games. For as long as I remember every-one from 12 just dies. I guess he thinks we’re the only ones who might win and might upset people.”

“I already planned on talking about them,” I say.

Gale nods, “They make us more likable.”

“I hope they’re okay.”

“Peeta promised to look after them and so did his father.”

“So did Darius,” I say.

“Of course he did.”

“Of course?” I respond.

Gale just smiles at me. “Let’s go down and learn more about fighting.”

Chapter Text

In the morning it's Gale who wakes up first. He touches my arm, "Catnip, it's a little past seven."

I nod, sit up and sniff, "You smell like honey."

His hair is still wet from the shower and he says, "I forgot the button combination Haymitch showed us and this is what I ended up with. I'm going to wake him while you get dressed."

My clothes are clean again but this time I don't worry about it. At the table I spread something brown on toasted bread. When Gale comes in I say, "You have to try this. I don't know what it is but it tastes like calories." He laughs and I say, "We only have a little longer to pack on weight."

Gale takes my toast as he sits down and says, "Wow," as he chews.

"It's called peanut butter," Haymitch says. "It's fat and protein. Eat as much as you can." He removes the ice cubes from the drink Gale had brought him and sucks them before dropping them into an empty glass. Then he pours himself a mug of something hot and brown and adds his alcohol into the cup as well.

"What is that?" asks Gale, as he continues to eat my toast and I spread another slice with a thick layer of the peanut butter. "You've been drinking it a lot."

"Coffee."

Gale pours himself a cup and pulls a face when he takes a sip. "Ugh, that's disgusting."

He holds out the mug to me. I take a sip, it is bitter and tastes like it's burnt. "Why would anybody drink that?"

"It's an acquired taste and I don't want you acquiring it: no calories and it will mess with your sleep." Instead he pours us each a large glass of milk.

The milk in the Capitol is weird. When I had asked Effie about it she laughed and acted like I was a fool as she told me it was cow's milk. Then Haymitch had tried the milk and pulled a face. I thought he was surprised by the taste too but instead he'd called for an Avox and said, "May we have some whole fat milk?" Effie had sighed and he'd said, "Their concerns about weight are not the same as yours." The whole fat version of the milk tasted more like the milk I was used to. I wanted to ask how they got different levels of fat in the milk but didn't want Effie to laugh again.

We eat slices of toast covered in peanut butter, omelets and bacon. As we eat, Haymitch talks to us about our private sessions where we'll get graded by the Gamemakers. They'll judge us on our skills and he says, "Sweetheart, let the bow do your talking. Gale, if you're going to use snares you need to talk continually. It's not that interesting to watch someone tie things so you need them to stay focused."

We nod and I have another glass of milk. He looks at us both and says, "I think you've gained some weight. I'm not sure how much but a bit. Your faces look fuller. Don't waste calories today. You can't really learn much else in the time you have. Thankfully, you came in with some useful skills. Focus on fire and water today. You don't want a fire at night. No matter how cold it is you can't light a fire. The Careers see a fire and you're dead. But you'll need to cook meat during the day. If you find matches or I can get you some I want you to use them for better things: setting light to an arrow, burning someone's stuff, there are a million uses for them. By the end of today I want you to know as many ways to start a fire as possible. Then, learn how to find water. Water is your most precious commodity. Your private training sessions will be at four-thirty," he points to Gale, "and four-forty-five," he points to me. "You're going last. That's both good and bad. They'll be bored from watching all the others and feeling like they want to go home but you'll also be the freshest in their memory as long as you are memorable."

We go downstairs. First we go to the fire station and Rue comes to study with us as we practice. Once we all get praised we move on to the water station where it's all common sense: damp ground, green plants, animal tracks. I'm glad it's all obvious because we don't have much time before we're ushered into a room to wait. The Careers all laugh and act like it's their birthday. Everyone else is silent. Gale reaches for me and squeezes my hand, tangling our fingers together. Finally it's just us, Rue and Thresh. When he's called Thresh gives Rue a hug and says, "Don't be scared when it's your turn." She nods and he smiles at her before he leaves. "I'll see you in a little while."

Once he's gone Gale says, "He's right, you don't need to be scared. Just go in there and show off all your skills. Make them watch you. They've seen twenty-one other kids. Make them remember you. You can talk or sing while you're showing them your skills if you think there is any chance they might get bored. Keep their focus and do your best. The better your score is the better gifts Haymitch and Chaff can get us."

"Chaff is going to focus on Thresh. He has to spend all his time on the one who might get home."

It's probably true. It makes sense. "Well then the better your score is the better gifts Haymitch can get us," I say, "Do your best. That's all you can do."

"What are you going to do?" asks Gale.

"Plants and lots of climbing," she says, "What about you?"

"I'm going to use snares. Catnip is going to use the bow. We'll both aim high."

"You know," I say, "Gale and I have loved trying to spot you when you're hiding. You could do something with that: climb, hide, jump out and say 'boo' and do it in lots of places. It's cool and it shows off your speed, your climbing and your hiding and they'll pay attention. Tell them your plan so that they watch."

She smiles, "That's a good idea. But little kids can only ever get a seven."

"Some get eights," I say. "In the twenty-third Games a twelve-year-old got a nine."

"Only the really vicious ones get eights," she says.

"They were just confident and went in and showed off their talents," I speak like I know what I'm talking about but really I have no idea.

"Haymitch can work with a seven," says Gale. "Take a knife with you and hold it out as you say boo, show them that it's not just startling but could be fatal."

She nods. "I can do that."

"Like Catnip said, just do your best," Gale says, "that's all we ask. You do your best and we'll do ours."

When her name is called I smile and say, "Good luck."

"Don't be nervous," Gale says. She leaves and Gale says, "Okay, I'm next. Any advice?"

I laugh, "Don't be nervous and do your best." We sit in silence and after a while his leg starts to bounce. I place my free hand on his knee, "You're making me nervous."

"Sorry," he stills still for a few moments. After a few minutes then he stands and starts to jump in place, still holding my hand. "I need to get loose."

"Stop jumping and shut your eyes," I say and he does instantly. "You and I are at our favorite place. Just you, me and the view. One of us has found something for breakfast and we're having a quiet moment before we start our work to feed our families. It's a school day so we only have two hours to grab food. It's going to be hard but if we don't succeed we won't eat. So take this quiet moment and go in there and remember that we need to do what we have to do to get one of us home so we can feed our families. Breathe out." He does. "Open your eyes. Still nervous?"

"No. It worked. Thank you."

His name is called and I stand and hug him. "Good luck."

He kisses my cheek and says, "I'll see you in a half hour."

Once he's gone I stare at the wall, waiting for my turn. When they finally call my name I go in and straight to the bows. I don't look up at them. But I can feel that they aren't looking at me. They're talking a lot, excitedly. I hear Gale's name and he's clearly done well. I'm pleased for him but I need them to watch me. The bow feels weird in my hand and when I take aim I miss. I'm almost relieved that they aren't watching. I try to make up ground and hit every single target but when I look up they aren't paying any attention.

My time is slipping by and they aren't watching me at all. An Avox brings them a roasted pig with an apple in its mouth and I know I've lost any chance of gaining their attention. The bow now feels right in my hand. I aim, take a breath in, pull the string back and breathe out slowly before releasing the arrow. The arrow flies through the air, straight into the apple, it rips out of the pig's mouth and pins the apple to the wall. They all turn to me looking shocked.

"Thank you for your consideration," I say and bow before hanging the bow back up and leaving. I feel ill in the elevator back to our floor and when I step out Gale blinks.

"That wasn't fifteen minutes."

"Gale," I start but stop and put a hand to my mouth. "I failed."

He wraps his arms around me and brings me to the couch, "What happened?"

Haymitch is sitting at the table. He looks completely sober as he watches me. I tell Gale what I've done. And instead of looking horrified he and Haymitch both start laughing. "You bowed?" Haymitch looks shocked and he's still laughing. I nod, feeling miserable.

Gale hugs me tighter but he's still laughing. "I was amazing in my session. I'll get a high number and get us gifts and then they'll see you in the arena and start sending gifts to you too. Don't worry. They weren't paying attention to you because I dazed them. They gave me a standing ovation. I'm sorry if I stole your chance but I'm going to get a really high score."

Haymitch is smiling as he says, "Sometimes winners try to get low scores on purpose to look weak. You're supposed to be our weakness." He starts laughing again, "Thank you for your consideration!"

"What did you do?" I ask Gale.

"I did what Haymitch said. I talked about the snares you and I make to feed the kids while I was tying up snares. Then I strung up one of the dummies talking about the fact that I'm pretty strong and that I give Rory rides on my shoulders even though he's only eight inches shorter than me and that I was using a knot I'd learned here. And then I took a bow and climbed up the post things that Rue's been jumping all over and talked about balance and how we climb roofs to be by ourselves while walking along that really thin ledge Rue sits on. And once I got into a good position I said, 'I'm not sure if a bow is the same as a slingshot. Haymitch thinks so. But please bear with me.' I missed on my first shot but they kept watching. My second arrow split the rope. The dummy fell, triggered the snares and got ripped to pieces. I showed off six skills."

"Wow."

"I got us an eleven. Don't worry about it. I think it's great that you shocked them."

"I'm sorry, Gale."

He smiles, "Don't be. I think it's incredible. Why don't you go take a shower before dinner? It'll make you feel better."

I nod and go to my room where I shower and change into green suede pants and another silk shirt. We have dinner and eat way too much of everything. But tonight I can't really bring myself to join in the conversation. Our stylists are thrilled with us, even my behavior. Effie is the only one who is angry at me and Haymitch tells her off.

Then we go to watch the scores. We replace genders with scores. The Careers all hover between eight and ten. The younger kids all get between five and seven. Thresh gets a ten and I try to tell myself he's the ten from 11 but he's still Thresh. Then Rue's face comes on screen and everyone holds their breath.

"Come on," says Haymitch during the pause before her score is read.

And when it's an eight we're all stunned. Then we start cheering. It's so rare, it only happens about every five years; it's only ever one per Games. The Odds are very much not in her favor but she's done it. We're all cheering until Gale's name is read. We wait and go silent. He grips my hand tightly in his and closes his eyes until Claudius Templesmith finally says, "Twelve."

Gale's eyes fly open, "Wait, I he just repeating the district?" But then the number appears next to his picture. "I got a twelve? I missed on my first attempt."

Haymitch says, "It was one of your six skills. Careers always show off one or two skills for their whole time. You showed them everything."

We're all smiling, more relief than happiness, but then go silent as Claudius Templesmith says my name. Gale says, "You're supposed to be our weakness, don't worry."

I wait – it feels like an eternity – until Claudius says, "Eleven."

Everyone is cheering and Gale hugs me tightly. Effie calls for a bottle of champagne but Haymitch says, "Effie, they can't drink. They're going into the arena in two days." He's smiling broadly at us. "Y'know, tonight is the night when I pick. 12 Doesn't pull a lot of weight. And usually 12 loses its kids young. I end up with two scared little kids who want their mothers. I have to take what I can get and give those gifts to the one least likely to die. I put my weight behind the six not the four, that's usually the scores I pick between. It always seems to be a six and a four. Never had an eleven or a twelve. Once I had a nine… Thanks for not making me choose. I can work with a combined score of thirty-one. This morning I was hoping for a twenty-three. You do your part and I'll do mine."

"How did I get an eleven? I shot at them."

"They must have liked your spirit," Haymitch says with a smile. "You got nine for a perfect shot and two for the gall." Then he adds, "Maybe they were riding the high they got off Rue and Gale. The scores are supposed to be clinical but it's scored by people. A lot of it has to do with entertainment. Rue gets the one high score for a little kid of the game. They grade her, impressed, knowing that she's the best young kid they've seen all day. Then Gale comes in and is the best of the whole day, all sorts of useful, deadly skills. They give him a twelve because he's so impressive even though they haven't given out a twelve in seven years. And then you come in, after they've finished for the day in their own minds, and you shock them again making them excited all over again, not as excited as Gale but pretty excited."

Then Gale says, "How did I get a twelve? I missed with my first shot. A twelve is perfection."

Haymitch is still smiling; it's weird because he's never smiled for this long. "You never touched a bow before and they knew that. Hitting that rope on your second attempt was amazing. Maybe not as amazing as hitting the apple out of a pig's mouth but add that in with snares, balance, strength, knot tying, climbing."

The champagne comes and Gale says, "We should go to bed."

"Good night," I say.

We separate to change our clothes and I hear Gale knock on my door. I open my mouth to tell him to come in then Effie's voice says, "You know, it's very inappropriate for you to share a bed."

"You know," Gale replies, "it's very inappropriate for you to rip kids away from home and their families and bring them to what I heard a Gamesmaker call, 'The Pageant of Death.' Excuse me: I'm going to bed now." He opens the door.

"I could have been naked, it was inappropriate for you not wait until I said come in." He laughs as he shuts the door behind him. "'The Pageant of Death?'"

"'This one is amazing. He'll be interesting to watch in The Pageant of Death.' I almost fell off the ledge. I don't know if the man who said it knew I could hear him before he said it but I know he saw my face. I looked him straight in the eye. He looked embarrassed." He sighs and climbs into my bed. "Turn out the light when you're ready," he says as he turns on his side.

Chapter Text

All of the next day is spent prepping us for our interviews. Haymitch is thrilled with Gale but angry with me. I can’t answer his questions and I keep freezing up at the personal ones. He’s clearly on edge and is about to say something when Gale reaches out and takes my hands.

“Catnip, every time Caesar asks you a question you don’t like,” he pauses. I expect him to say that I should pretend I’m talking to him. Instead he says, “Picture Prim, with that damp look people get when they’re starving to death but still have enough to drink. Picture Rory, trying to carry Posy, stumbling because he’s just as malnourished as her but he has to carry her because now he’s the oldest. Picture Posy, skin all tight and pulled back, almost smiling because she’s lost so much weight that her lips have shrunk but her baby teeth are still the same. Picture Vick, sitting on that log outside my house, listless and too tired to move and someone says, ‘Once you see that look in their eyes they’re already gone.’ He hears them but he’s too close to the end to respond. All those people who love our kids and want to help, how long can they really do it? We were the main providers of meat in the Seam. So remind yourself of that and then smile. Okay?” I nod.

“Okay,” he says as he lets go of my hands, “So, Katniss, is there anyone special at home?”

I giggle and give a girly answer and reach out and casually touch his arm and lean in as I speak and Gale beams at me and says, "That is how you do it."

Haymitch blinks and says, "All the incentives I've given you and all he needs to do is threaten little kids?"

"He didn't threaten them; he reminded me of the threat. It was motivating," I say.

Then Effie whisks me away and teaches me how to walk, sit and stand like what she calls, "a real girl." Gale stands in the door and laughs the whole time. If we weren't going into the arena so soon I would hit him. Now I don't want to leave any bruises or injure him in any way.

Eventually I say, "Gale, help or don't but stop laughing."

He doesn't say anything and this time it's Haymitch who is helpful. He comes to me and says, "Just imagine you're dancing with an invisible partner." He takes me by the hips and guides me as I walk. "There."

"Thank you," I say.

"I think I'm beginning to figure out how you tick," he says and keeps moving. Then he lets go. "Keep going." I do as I'm told and he nods, "Now you look like a girl from the Capitol." It doesn't sound like a compliment. He sounds almost sad, and I think he would rather that I move like myself. Then he smiles and catches my hand and pulls me into a dance. We could be at any party back home. I laugh as we move together and Effie gives an irritated sigh before leaving saying that we're all so oblivious to what the world is really like. Once she's gone Haymitch says, "You're going into the arena tomorrow. How could you possibly be oblivious?"

"There won't be much time for dancing then," says Gale.

Haymitch shakes his head, "No there won't be. You should cut in." He twirls me out and Gale grabs me. "I'm going to talk to your stylists. Don’t worry," he says, “you’ll pass tonight.” I hope I'm good enough to pass for five minutes: one minute to walk onto the stage, three minutes of chatting, one minute to walk off again. That's all it is.

“Thank you,” I say again. I kick off the uncomfortable shoes and dance barefoot with him.

Gale starts to hum an old song as we dance, keeping time. As he turns me he says, “Haymitch is wrong. You won’t pass: you’re going to be fantastic tonight.”

“You will be too.”

“We have a thirty-one,” He nods to himself, “it’s going to be okay.”

“I have to play that down,” I say.

“Just be that girl Haymitch and Effie are teaching you to be. No one will remember the eleven.” He spins me out and brings me back in and we dance as he hums. It nice, a time not to be focusing on the weeks ahead. I feel wonderful in his arms, more like myself. This could be me and him messing around on a quiet morning in the woods. He spins me out again as our stylists come into the room.

“You’ve been dancing for almost an hour,” says Haymitch. I believe him but it feels like only a few minutes.

“Is it time?” I ask Cinna.

“It is,” Cinna nods.

“Please don’t wax my face again,” says Gale.

Portia shakes her head, “Not today.” They bring us into separate rooms and I feel myself getting tense as I am primped and painted. My hair takes over an hour and I almost stop being nervous and start being bored. Then the door opens and I hear Portia say, “No, Gale, you can’t go in there.” But he does.

I can’t turn my head but I say, “I’m mostly naked.”

“I’m not looking,” he says. “There’s a seat next to Catnip. Please, can we do this in here?”

“Fine, sit down,” says Portia.

He takes my hand. I don’t think we’ve ever touched as much in the five years we’ve been friends as we have since the reaping. Cinna says, “Gale, I need Katniss’ hand to do her nails.” Gale says nothing but lets go. Eventually I’m allowed to sit up and I see that Gale’s hair is perfect and he looks sun kissed, masculine and strong even as Portia applies eyeliner.

“What are we wearing tonight?” asks Gale.

“Fire,” say Cinna and Portia at the same time.

Cinna starts to do my makeup and it’s all light little things. Gale glances at my face and whines, “Portia, Catnip’s wearing less makeup than me. Why am I wearing so much makeup?”

“Because you’re a wonderful canvas whereas Katniss is a beautiful painting.”

Everyone laughs except Gale. “That’s not nice,” he says.

“No, but it was funny,” I say. “Are my nails dry?”

“Not enough to hold Gale’s hand,” says Cinna. It takes another ten minutes before we’re told it’s time to get dressed and we’re helped out of our chairs. We turn our backs to each other as we’re both half naked. Cinna helps me into a dress made of beads that look like flames when I move. Then he says, “Effie said she would teach you to walk in heels?”

“Well, Haymitch did more than Effie but they hurt.”

“You need to wear them for a grand total of five minutes but I need you to try them on to make sure that they’re working. You can go barefoot backstage and just slip them on when you have to go out.” He kneels and helps me into high heels that don’t hurt as much as the ones Effie gave me. He stands again, “Turn and try walking in them, please.”

As I turn I catch sight of Gale. He’s in black trousers that accentuate his muscles and a matching trimmed black shirt. Over it he is wearing a jacket that’s cropped short, making his waist look thin and his shoulders wider. It’s covered in red, gold and silver beads that make him look like he’s engulfed in flames. He looks incredibly handsome. Portia holds out shoes to him and says, “You don’t need help to put these on.”

I take a step and the shoe clicks on the floor and sparks fly from beneath my feet. “Wow.” I jump and the sparks go wider. “Wow.”

“Those are wonderful,” says Gale. “I want those shoes.”

I walk more and each time the sparks surprise me. Portia says, “Try yours.” Gale pulls them on and walks toward me. Fire shoots out from the soles of his shoes.

“Excellent,” says Gale. “Am I going to burn the floor?”

“No, they just emulate flames,” says Portia. “There’s no heat. Katniss will be interviewed first.”

“Caesar will ask you to twirl in that dress, do,” Cinna interjects.

“How do you know that?” I ask.

“Because he asked about your dress and I said, ‘It’s going to look amazing when she moves.’”

“Katniss will be interviewed first,” repeats Portia. “You don’t get to twirl. So go out just before you’re name is called, take Katniss by the hand and kiss her cheek then move around her. Here, I’ll be Katniss. I’ve just been interviewed and I’m half way across the stage.” She backs up to the wall and Cinna does the same on the opposite side of the room. “Tonight, Gale, I’ll tell you when to go, but for now Cinna will be you.” She begins walking, smiling and waving to an imagined crowd. Cinna comes and takes her free hand, kissing her cheek and turning his back quickly to the audience as he walks by her. “See?”

“Not really,” says Gale.

“Lend me your jacket?” asks Cinna and Gale shrugs out of it. They repeat the move but with Cinna in the jacket it’s so obvious. The light flashes off the beads and he looks like a blaze.

“Got it,” Gale nods. But he doesn’t do it as simply as Cinna. Instead after the light has caught him right, he spins me out, making the dress flair, and together we burn as we smile.

Our stylists clap. Cinna says, “You two are perfect together.”

Then it’s time to go. I slip off the shoes and Gale takes my hand as we head down to the auditorium. We listen to the other tributes get interviewed. They all have an angle: sexy, vicious, funny, shy. It would make me nervous if Gale and I didn’t have an angle of our own. Rue is wearing wings and she looks adorable. When it’s her time I say, “Go be the cutest tribute. You got us an eight now all you need to do is smile and let the wings do the work for you.”

She skips, the wing move like an organic part of her, as she goes out to the couch and she waves enthusiastically. She’s friendly but slightly shy. Caesar asks about her skills and she says, “I’m pretty fast, and I can climb and I’m quiet.”

“But an eight for a twelve-year-old is pretty rare.”

Rue shrugs, “Maybe I got a few points for being cute.”

People adore her. Caesar asks, “Have you made any allies since you came?”

She nods, “Katniss and Gale. We’re going to be a team. We’re going to help protect each other.”

She delivers the line perfectly. When the buzzer goes off she smiles and thanks him. The wings open and close as she walks off the stage, waving and smiling. As she comes backstage I smile and Gale says, “Perfect! You were perfect.”

Thresh is sullen. He barely speaks and it’s clearly not an angle because Chaff looks worried and agitated. When the buzzer goes off again Chaff sighs. Thresh comes backstage and shakes his head slowly at Chaff as I use Gale’s shoulder to balance myself as I put my shoes on. Caesar calls my name and I walk out waving and blowing kisses. My shoes send sparks across the floor and people gasp. And, just in case Caesar doesn’t prompt me, I twirl. The beads catch the light and people actually cringe away from the stage then they burst into applause. I sit down with a huge smile, “Caesar, it is so nice to meet you!”

“Katniss, you look incredible.”

“Thank you, Caesar!”

“People have been calling you the girl on fire.”

“Really? Cinna and Portia did a really good job for Gale and me.”

He nods, “You had a hard reaping, didn’t you? First your sister and then a boy you clearly have feelings for? That must have been very difficult.”

“When you grow up in District 12 you know that if your younger sibling’s name is in the ball at the same time as yours, then really, your name is just in there extra times. My name was in the bowl twenty times but Prim’s slip of paper brought me up to twenty-one. You accept that. But I’ve always had a deal with my best friend: if he went into the arena I would take care of his family and if I was reaped he would take care of my mother and Prim. I think every older sibling in the districts has that pact with someone. I was shocked when Prim’s name was called, horrified that she was walking up to the stage, so I screamed and volunteered before I was actually supposed to do it.” People laugh like they’re my friends, like I’ve taken them into my confidence. Like it’s funny that, in the horrific moment when my younger sister was called to play in a game where she would die bloody, I forgot my manners. “But it was fine, I was going to be okay, because my best friend was going to take care of them.” Caesar nods, understandingly. “Then the baker’s son was being called and that’s okay, I know his father but it’s okay. After all, someone has to be called. And then my best friend volunteers. Gale was supposed to take care of them. For a horrible second I thought he was volunteering just to protect me. So I screamed.”

“Gale is your best friend?” asks Caesar he sounds shocked and the audience has gone silent.

“Best friend in the world!” I say it with a huge smile, like an idiot, because no one smart would be pleased to go into the arena with their best friend.

“Do you live near each other?” he asks.

“We do, we both live in the Seam, which is where the coal miners live, but we weren’t friends when we were little. Our fathers died in the mines. We became friends after that.”

“Did they die close together?” asks Caesar sympathetically.

“In the same cave in,” I nod and there’s a gasp from the room. “First time I ever really noticed Gale was in the Justice Building when we got medals for being the oldest children of fallen miners.” The crowd is completely silent, hanging on every word. “We do our best to help our mothers take care of the little kids and we take care of each other.” I hope my inflection makes it sound like I cook and clean while he builds fires; Caesar’s face says it does. “And that’s what we’ll do in the arena. Plus we’ll team with Rue. We both have younger siblings and if we weren’t able to take their place we’d hope that some older kids would help them.”

“How kind of you,” he says.

“You have to do your best, right?”

“True. Are you enjoying the Capitol?”

“It’s amazing,” I say. “You have wonderful food, beautiful buildings and such beautiful, kind, generous people here. No one wants to be reaped but it’s almost worth it to see this city.”

“What has been your favorite part?”

“Oh, I don’t know!” I act like I’m casting around in my thoughts to answer the question. “The lamb stew is delicious.”

“The one with the plums?”

“Yes.”

He laughs, “I could eat buckets of it!”

Everyone laughs but then I say, “But, have you seen my clothes?” Everyone laughs again. “I love my clothes. Cinna is incredible.”

“It is beautiful; would you please give us another twirl?”

“Of course.” I stand and twirl and am still twirling when the buzzer goes off. I stop and almost fall but Caesar catches me and we laugh, “Thank you, Caesar.”

“May the Odds be ever in your favor, Katniss.”

I blow kisses, wave and smile as I begin to leave the stage. Gale comes out before Caesar calls his name. He takes my hand, just like we practiced, kisses my cheek and spins me out, turning himself and catching the light at the same time. My shoes spark and his spurt fire. There is a huge reaction from the crowd and I know the effect has worked.

Caesar laughs and says, “Gale, I hadn’t called you yet.”

“Sorry! Catnip needed one last twirl.”

Caesar asks him to come sit down as I go backstage. Haymitch hugs me and whispers, “Perfection. So perfectly empty-headed, girly and incredibly likeable. He never even asked you about your score. You were perfect. Let’s just hope it worked. You do still have an eleven. But you did everything you possibly could to erase that.”

I pull back and smile, “Thank you.” I use his shoulder to balance as I take off my shoes.

“Catnip?” repeats Caesar.

“She was nervous the first time we spoke and she mumbled so I thought she said Catnip and it stuck.”

“She really is your best friend, isn’t she?”

“Sometimes when I’m irritated about something and ranting at Peeta, he says, ‘This is something you should talk to Katniss about.’” Caesar laughs. “She’s my best friend. People get nervous around town if they see one of us alone. They ask, ‘Is everything okay? Katniss isn’t with you. Is she ill?’ And I feel a little badly because people think we’re courting and a lot of boys, and one Peacekeeper, have asked me if it would be okay for them to ask Catnip for a walk.”

“For a walk?” asks Caesar.

“Boys ask girls for a walk when they want to court. Is that not what people do here?”

“We ask girls to go on dates. We don’t court; we date.”

“Well, we ask for walks. And, as I said, a lot of boys, and a Peacekeeper, have asked me if they could ask her for a walk. Of course I always say yes, but we’re always together and it’s embarrassing for a boy to ask a girl for a walk and be turned down in front of other people. So no one, not even the Peacekeeper, has asked her. But she’s always busy; she’s running around so I think people are intimidated. And... I worry that she might say no.”

“You would like her to say yes?”

“I’d like her to get married. It would be nice to know she was happy and taken care of.”

“I imagine that’s true. And did you ask Peeta for a walk?”

Gale laughs, “No, no one ever asked for a walk. He just kissed me one night. It’s much more direct.” The audience laughs. “I think all boys would rather that’s how it works but most girls would slap them. Catnip certainly would but I kissed back. And we have gone for walks but that’s not how it started.”

“A kiss seems much better. Y’know, I have friends who’ve tried to go ‘mo, both women and men. But they always go back, men go back to dating women and the women go back to men. What’s your secret?”

“My secret?”

“How do you stick to being a ‘mo?” Caesar clarifies.

“Oh, I don’t think there’s a trick. Until this week I had never heard the word homosexual. It’s not a choice or a decision. There are facts that you know, things that are just true. My name is Gale Hawthorne, my home is District 12, my eyes are grey, I have never had any interest in asking any girl for a walk and Peeta Mellark makes me happy. I’ve never made an effort to be myself. I didn’t know it had a name; I didn’t know it was fashionable; I just love Peeta.”

“Good for you; how wonderful to know yourself. Now, there’s a question I usually ask boys in your position but this time it seems less appropriate.”

Gale nods and says, “I know the question: my name was in the ball forty-two times. But my brother Rory’s name was in the ball three times and Peeta’s was in there five times. So my name was really entered fifty times. The Odds were not in my favor.”

“Do you think you have a better chance than he would have?”

“Well, I got a twelve,” he says it so casually, like it’s expected. The words are delivered perfectly, like it could only possible outcome. The confidence hits the perfect note, just like Haymitch coached him to do it this morning. “And he’s very kind. I don’t know if he could have made it out. I don’t know if he could take a life to save his own, he’s a genuinely good person. I’ll be fine with my back up to the wall. I can give up my morals for a while. I’ll never stop being me, I’ll never be anyone but me in the arena, but I can turn off that part of my brain for a little bit... But maybe it’s just selfish, I didn’t want to see him in the arena.
“I couldn’t bear the idea of him going cold or hungry. I love the way he laughs when he thinks something is really funny, the way he always thinks before speaking, the curve of his neck when he tilts his head to read a book, the choked little noise in the back of his throat he makes when I kiss him… I don’t like seeing him anything but happy so he wasn’t ever going to see the inside of the arena… And it’s not true what Catnip said: it’s pretty rare for older siblings to volunteer for their brothers or sisters. Peeta’s brother wasn’t going to volunteer and someone had to.”

“But you did get a twelve. You must be very pleased. How did you manage it?”

“I don’t know. I can use a slingshot so I showed that off.”

“Gale, you are the only person in the Games with a twelve. It can’t just be a slingshot.”

“I think it might be my attitude.”

“And what’s your attitude?”

“I have a one in three chance of winning. It’s going to be me, Rue or Catnip. There is no other option. One of us will be on this couch again.”

“Do you really believe that?”

“Absolutely. One of us is coming back. And I think my certainty pushed my score. One of the tributes from 2 talked about being bloodthirsty and said it couldn’t wait to get killing.”

“Cato,” says Caesar.

“No, it’s one of the two tens from 2. I wish they had different scores but not everything goes to plan. If any of the other tributes had names or genders I would never be able to kill them. And that’s the difference between me and it. It can’t wait to kill people; I can’t wait for one of us to get home. It’s me, Rue or Catnip. It’s already decided.”

“And what’s your plan?”

“Find water and kill everything that moves,” says Gale and it’s the first time his voice has lacked any note of humor or kindness. It shows the audience why he got a twelve.

Caesar misses a beat before he says, “It’s a pretty basic plan.”

“Yes, well, maybe, but,” then he smiles like he’s telling Caesar a secret, “I don’t know if you’ve heard, but 12 is on fire.” The buzzer goes off and he leans in to shake Caesar’s hand. “You’re just as nice as you’ve always seemed on TV. Keep the couch warm for me, Rue or Catnip.”

“May the Odds be ever in your favor.”

“I’ve got great odds.” Gale stands and shrugs his shoulders as he waves which makes his coat flicker and flash. His shoes still make people cringe back. People roar for him as he leaves the stage.

He grabs me in a hug backstage. “Perfect,” I whisper.

“You too.”

He calls over my shoulder, “Rue, you were wonderful.”

I turn and smile at her and she says, “Thank you. You were both wonderful too.”

“Thank you,” I smile.

“Dinner and bed,” says Haymitch.

“They should celebrate how well they did,” says Effie.

“They should sleep and survive the first day in the arena,” replies Haymitch. He looks at Rue, “Dinner and bed,” he repeats.

She nods, “I’ll see you in the arena.”

“Remember the plan?” asks Gale.

She nods as Haymitch starts to lead us away. Our stylists are waiting for us upstairs and they cheer as we enter our rooms. I hold out my shoes, “Thank you, Cinna.”

“Can I keep mine?” Gale asks Portia.

“I don’t think they’re allowed in the arena,” she says, “But, you can wear them tonight and before you go into the arena.”

He smiles and makes sure he steps hard with every move he makes. “Thank you.”

Upstairs Cinna peels me out of the dress and I redress in pajamas. And in the dining room we eat something Haymitch calls pasta, doughy things filled with meat in rich creamy sauce with shredded cheese piled on top. Gale and I use bread for utensils. He taps his foot as he eats, sending fake fire skittering over the floor. I feel sick but force myself to eat because this is the last chance I have to store calories. Gale looks as bad as I feel. I eat three plates full; he eats four. There’s cake for dessert but I can’t face it.

Gale looks to a male Avox and asks, “Is there goat milk in the city?” the man nods, “May we please have a couple of glasses of warm goat milk?” The man nods again. “Thank you.”

“Raw if possible,” adds Haymitch. The Avox nods and leaves.

We don’t speak but Effie is babbling about something while Cinna and Portia nod like they’re listening but Cinna’s eyes keep coming back to me and Portia looks worried. When the Avox comes back with the milk I smile at him and say, “Thank you.” Gale echoes my words and we clink our glasses before drinking.

It tastes like home, it’s warm, earthy and thicker than any of the milk we’ve had here. Gale leans against me and I let him. After we drain our glasses Haymitch says, “Try to sleep.”

“I have pills for that,” says Effie.

“No,” says Haymitch firmly. “No drugs before the arena. No sleep is better than drugged sleep.”

“Good night,” I say and push my chair back from the table.

Gale nods as he stands and says, “See you in the morning.” At my door he says, “I’ll see you in a minute.”

I re-braid my hair and get out the cookies. There are five left. Gale knocks, “Yes,” I say and as he comes in I hold out the box, “Pick.”

He takes one covered in violets. “Have the last dandelion one. We’ll save others for breakfast. Haymitch can have the odd one.” We sit on the bed as we eat our cookies in silence. “I’m terrified,” he says quietly.

“Of course you are; you’re smart,” I pull my knees up to my chin. “I’m homesick.”

“Me too,” he says.

“It’s never taken more than ten weeks,” I say.

“That doesn’t make me feel any better,” he says and I nod. We finish our cookies and climb under the blankets. We turn our backs to each other and he says, “Shut your eyes, Catnip. It’s you and me in our favorite place. We cut school to get food. For once we don’t need to trade anything so we just need to get dinner. We got a few chipmunks, some squirrels, strawberries and lots of different tasty plants. It’s the middle of the winter and we’re all bundled up: both of us in our fathers’ coats and gloves made from the skins of things we killed. It’s only mid afternoon but almost new years so the sun is already setting. We sit there and watch the sunset before heading home. The kids are already home and-”

Chapter Text

I wake up and see that it's getting light. Gale is sitting next to me, chewing on the inside of his cheek the way he does when he's nervous.

"Time?" I ask.

"Twenty to eight. I figured I should let you sleep. There won't be much time once we're in the arena."

"Thanks." I stretch slowly.

"We need to shower and eat. Haymitch is already awake."

"Really?"

Gale nods, "Yeah, he looked in about a half hour ago. I think we're so late in getting up that he thought we'd killed ourselves to avoid the arena."

"That's a good plan to avoid being murdered," I nod.

"Let's go shower."

I nod, "I'll see you in a little while." I try to enjoy the shower, reminding myself that this will be the last time I feel warm, clean water for months. I wash thoroughly getting rid of any trace of my smell. Then I dress simply and head out to breakfast carrying the box with the last few cookies.

Gale and Haymitch are already eating. I sit down and hold out the box. Gale takes a fern while Haymitch thanks me before taking the last daisy and I have one covered in tiny primroses, it's slightly stale but still delicious. "So, any last advice?" Gale asks. He's wearing the fire shoes, tapping his feet fretfully as he eats, sending out brief spurts of flame with each tap.

"Stay alive, find water, be a team and tell me when you need something. With editing I might not see every time you ask me for something but I'll do my best. You've got a lot of weight right now: the city loves you and they'll pay for what they love. So ask me for help when you need it." We nod and share an omelet, some stew, some ham and goat milk. Haymitch continually tops up our milk and water glasses. "Be as hydrated as possible."

We drink as much as we can and then it's time to go. Effie comes out, still in nightclothes and hugs both goodbye. I don't like her touching me.

He brings us to where we're going to get picked up by a hovercraft. "Run like you're on fire; find water; stay alive." We nod before we're herded onto the craft.

We're injected with trackers and I can tell by Gale's face how irritated he is. It's bad enough that we have to kill people on TV for the Capitol's amusement now they're putting things into our bodies. I can almost hear the tirade he would provide me with if we were in the woods. But if we were in the woods we wouldn't have the trackers. Instead of saying anything I take his hand in mine. He squeezes it and gives me a tiny smile.

Then we're separated when we land and I release his hand, and say, "I'll see you in less than an hour."

Cinna redresses me and braids my hair. He puts my pin on my jacket. "I'm not allowed to bet. But if I could I would bet on you."

I hug him; it's not like Effie because I actually want to hug him. "Thank you for everything, Cinna."

"I'll see you in a few weeks."

I let him go and say, "You're amazing Cinna. Don't do anything to yourself. Don't dye your skin or tattoo your eyes. You're amazing just the way you are."

He smiles and says, "I never would. It's time for you to get into the tube." I step into the tube and he says, "Don't step off the pedestal early." I nod. "You'll be okay." I nod again and then the tube starts to move and I go up into the darkness.

Then I'm pushed into the light. I see Gale on his own podium. I look around. There's a piece of plastic, a backpack that has a sleeping bag strapped to it and a knife slightly further away that is stuck in the ground. The backpack is orange but the next closest backpack is too far away. I look to Rue and give her a thumbs up and give her a slight gesture toward the woods behind us and she nods. Gale mouths at me, "Okay?" I nod. We wait and watch the clock. When it finally gets to zero I'm off the podium and grabbing what's closest. I have the knife and plastic in my hands. The five from 9 makes a grab for my backpack. But I'm faster and it gets killed by a knife thrown by one of the tens from two. It throws another knife at me but I block it with my backpack. It sinks into the material. So now I've got two weapons.

Everyone else is going to the Cornucopia. I see Gale out of the corner of my eye doing the exact same thing as me but Rue is behind me now so I can't see her. I run as fast as I can toward the forest. I hear Gale's familiar feet but not Rue's. I glance back and Gale, who knows me so well, screams, "She's not coming don't slow down."

So I keep going. We fall into step and run for a couple of hours. Finally Gale says, "We're miles away. Let's take stock." We slow down, coming to a jog before stopping making sure we don't get cramps. He's out of breath and between pants says, "How are you breathing so normally?"

"I just made sure I breathed evenly." I shrug, "I weigh less."

"And you run everywhere. I set snares and wait; you're always moving." It doesn't need to be said, we both know it. He's talking to the people watching on TV.

We walk for a while before sitting down. I have the two knives and the plastic to catch water while Gale has a small knife and a loaf of bread. We dump out our backpacks on the ground. Mine is orange and I rub mud into it while Gale's is a motley green. We each have a sleeping bag, plastic water bottle, a bottle of iodine and a coil of wire. Then I have crackers, some dried beef, a pair of sunglasses that don't work and a wooden box of matches. Gale has some dried fruit, a pair of mesh metal gloves and a second, larger coil of wire in a tin. Gale is thrilled. "What's so great about the wire?"

"It's razor sharp." He puts on the gloves and holds the wire between his hands and moves it over the grass which is instantly cut down. "It will make great snares for non-edible hunting."

I start repacking our bags. "We should go."

"We're at least ten miles from the Cornucopia," he says.

"We can't stop. We need water and more distance."

"I know but we need bows. We practiced at the Training Center, they're better than slingshots. I think we should make bows now before we're dehydrated and it's still light."

I think about it and say, "Fine but you keep watch and I'll make the bows. You were okay at throwing knives in the Training Center." I take one of the knives and quickly pick the wood. I carve the bows and string them with the blunt wire then I carve us each five arrows.

"Did you see those beautiful bows in the Cornucopia?" he asks.

"I was too busy looking for what was closest to me."

"Golden, one each, perfect size, nice grips and full quivers."

"Good sign," I say shaving off wood.

"Why?"

"There were multiples of all the weapons the Careers like, one for each of them. The Gamemakers want us all to have our preferred weapons. There are only two bows which means they are meant solely for us. So whoever took them can't, really, use them against us. Did you see anyone in the Training Center use them?"

"No, but we didn't touch them when the others were there either."

"But they liked showing off," I test the angles, making sure I'm carving it right.

It takes me less than an hour. Gale moves the bow to his shoulder and gets a feel for it in his hands. He hits a squirrel on his first attempt. "And everyone thought when you said that you'd take care of me you meant you'd do the laundry."

I test my own bow and hit another. "I taught you how to use a slingshot and just made you a bow: I'm not washing your clothes."

"I taught you how to make a snare."

"Yes," I say, taking aim and breathing out slowly before releasing the arrow and hitting a squirrel, "So you don't need to wash my clothes either." We get three more; Gale skins them while I start the fire. It takes me a little while for me to get the flames going but eventually we cook the meat and split it between our packs. Gale buries their non-edible bits but puts the skins into his bag. "Ready?" I ask.

"Yes," we put our packs on and start to run, keeping an eye out for signs of water. After a few hours Gale is panting hard, "Catnip," I slowdown. "I just can't run as much as you. You're so fast and so light. Please, can we just walk for a while?"

I nod, "Okay."

"Have you seen any signs of water?" he asks.

"No, not yet."

"It might be good that Rue didn't come with us. I don't know if she could have kept up with you."

"I would run slower if she was with us," I say. "Why do you think she didn't come? We had a plan."

Gale is silent for a while, "We spent all week looking weak and hiding all our skills. Then we climbed in front of her and she saw there was more to us. And we told her we wanted to be a team. Then we got the two highest scores in the Games. And then, after all that, you twirled in a dress and giggled. She had to see how fake all that was. So she must wonder what our plan really is."

"I guess."

"She told the ten from 11 that she was coming with us so that she didn't slow it down. Maybe she just said it to make the ten from 11 feel better. Maybe she was never planning on coming with us," he says.

We're silent as we walk, looking for water. "I felt badly for lying to Caesar. He was so nice and I was being all bubbly and silly."

"You didn't lie to Caesar: you put on a show for the other tributes. Caesar was misled for an evening but it might save our lives. He's not upset."

"You don't know that."

Gale laughs, "He's watching right now. What do we do when we feel bad about something we've done?" he says it the same way he would to the little kids.

I look around at the trees and spot a camera from the way the light glints off the lens. "I'm sorry Caesar. If I sit on your couch again I'll apologize in person but I really am sorry. I never wanted to mislead you. I just needed the other tributes to underestimate me. Gale's hard to underestimate because he's so tall so I needed to be the weakness. I wear a dress twice a year: the first day of school and the reaping. I have never twirled in a dress in my life, I don't giggle and Gale doesn't really want me to get married."

"It would be awful for me if you got married. Who would help me feed my family?"

"I would still need to snare vermin, get things with my slingshot and collect edible weeds. I doubt anyone I marry would be able to feed a family."

"A Peacekeeper could," says Gale.

That makes me laugh, "He's lying about that, Caesar, there is no interested Peacekeeper. There are not interested boys at all."

Gale laughs, "Oh yes there are."

"He's lying," I repeat. We keep walking and it starts to get dark. "We have to get off the ground."

He nods and we look for good trees. Gale points to one, "Good?"

"Looks fine to me."

We scale the tree quickly. There are two good branches. We slide into our sleeping bags and I take off my belt to loop it around me. "What are you doing?"

"Y'know how we climb up roofs to talk by ourselves, away from the kids?"

He nods, "Sure."

"I fell asleep waiting for you and rolled right off it. A two story drop is nowhere near as bad as a fall from this high."

"Good idea," he does the same as me.

"Y'know, if this wasn't an arena, if this was just a place, it would actually be really nice." I open my bag and pull out some squirrel. I hand some to Gale, "Dinner."

He reaches to take it and says, "Tomorrow we find water."

"Yeah." We eat in silence, gnawing on the bones for the marrow. "I hope Rue's okay." When I'm done I put the bones in the outer pocket of my bag.

"She's smart and fast. She ran from the Cornucopia and I saw her grab a backpack. She'll be okay tonight." The sky goes suddenly totally dark, save for thin moonlight and Gale says, "I forgot that we're actually inside."

The anthem begins to play then the cannon goes off again and again, marking the deaths of the kids from the Cornucopia and then they flash up photos of the dead tributes. All the kids are there. So is the crippled boy from ten. I'm relieved we won't have to kill them. Rue isn't among them. We eat in the dark. "I wish she'd come with us. She'd be so much safer."

"We couldn't make her come with us."

"I know," I nod. "Do you think they believed it? Do you think the other tributes believe that I'm insignificant?"

"I hope so. Otherwise you twirled in a dress and giggled like a fool for nothing."

"I bet Posey loved the twirling," I feel myself smiling.

"Oh, can you imagine how much she must have loved that? All those times you've been too busy to play pretend. All those times you've said, 'No, sweetie, sit down and eat. I have to go to school, maybe later.' And, now, there you were on TV spinning and laughing with your hair and nails all pretty. All makeup and glitter: the girl she always wanted you to play at being. You even wore grownup shoes that sparkled instead of leather boots. She must have been screaming."

"Those shoes were painful. But do you think it worked on the others?" I ask. "They're not stupid and I wasn't supposed to score that high."

He shakes his head. "I don't know but if they come after us it's just going to make our job easier. They'll present themselves to die. Now, sleep. I'll keep watch and we'll swap in a few hours." I shut my eyes but I see a flicker though my eyelids and smell smoke. "What an idiot," he whispers and I open my eyes. There's a tribute who has lit a fire. I hear footsteps and reach for my bow. I unbuckle the belt and get out of my sleeping bag silently as Gale does the same thing. It's a bunch of tributes, the Careers, all six of them.

One of them says, "It's probably the idiot in the dress."

"How did she outscore me?"

"All giggly, stupid. What the hell did she do? How does a simpleton get an eleven?"

"Who knows, the sooner she's dead the better, her and the twelve. They make me nervous. They're both covering up."

"She's an idiot and he's disgusting: only a freak would kiss another boy. It should be illegal and everyone in the city acted like it was fine — good even — but it's revolting."

"I want to just wipe that grin off his face and cut the giggle out of her throat," the self-proclaimed vicious one says.

Gale and I are poised but I need them to look up. I see both our bows, golden and perfect, in dumb hands. Gale and I exchange a look, I silently open my bag and I throw the bones from the squirrel I ate down to the ground. They all look up and Gale and I start shooting. I only release two arrows; I only have five and it's all so fast that I only have time to get two off the string. I hit the one with my bow in the eye and the eight from 4 right between the eyes. Gale hits the male ten from 2, the one who said it was vicious, through the neck. It falls to the ground and drops Gale's bow. The others scatter.

Gale's arrow didn't quite kill the vicious one. It's still moving a bit, trying to get up. Gale aims to shoot it again, to finish it off. He misses and the arrow buries itself in the ground next to it. I take aim and shoot it through the eye; it stops moving immediately. "That, ladies and gentlemen, is how a stupid girl in a dress gets an eleven. She's been able to hit animals in the eye with a slingshot since she was eight. And it turns out bows are pretty much the same thing." Gale says to a camera near us. Then we climb down quickly and go through their stuff, grabbing food, rope, more wires and water containers. One of the containers is half full and, in the light of the moon, I can't tell if it's been treated so I don't take a drink. There's a small mirror on the ground and Gale picks it up, "That could be really useful."

"That's a token, Gale."

"Oh, did you see which one?"

"The one with my bow."

He bends down and puts it back in its pocket. "I'm sorry," he says gently, "but it's me, or Katniss or Rue who's going home."

We load the extra weapons into their backpacks and hook the packs over their arms. The fewer weapons in the arena the better. The one who had Gale's bow also had a huge sword. We climb back up our tree and see that the tribute with the fire ran in the confusion but its fire is still burning. The canon goes off three times. I search for the iodine tablets in my bag by feeling for them. "I wish I had a flashlight," I mutter as I grope for them.

"Catnip doesn't mean that, Haymitch, we don't need a flashlight. Don't waste a gift on that," says Gale quickly.

"I don't," I agree. "We're fine, Haymitch, save it for when we need something."

Gale sounds reflective as he says, "So, your act didn't work. But at least they didn't really know what we can do. I wish the other three didn't get away. They've seen a little of what we can do. And they're what really stands between us and home… at least Posey got to see you twirl in a dress. If her older brother and her favorite big girl had to go into the arena and miss her fourth birthday at least she got to see you dressed like that." He doesn't need to say that he is her brother or that she's turning four but, again, he's not speaking to me. He's speaking to the people outside the arena.

I finally find the tablets and drop one into the bottle. "I don't how long it takes for the iodine to work but we can have a drink in the morning."

"Great," says Gale as he shimmies back into his sleeping bag. A hovercraft comes and picks up their bodies. We sit motionless, watching it. I feel the same dread as I did that day in the woods. Once it's gone Gale ties some of our new rope around his legs and says, "Get some sleep, Catnip."

Chapter Text

We switch after a few hours so I'm awake when the arena becomes light. I let Gale sleep as long as I dare but eventually I say, "Gale, it's time."

He blinks slowly and starts to go through his bag. He tears his bread into four pieces and hands two of them to me. "Have one of those for breakfast. If we have nothing but protein we'll lose weight too quickly." I put one of the chunks into my bag and eat the other. I shake the water bottle and take a long sip before handing it to Gale. He takes a long sip too. It wasn't full when we got it and there are only two sips left but Gale puts it in his bag, "We might really need it later. Do we need to run? We're going to sweat and lose water faster."

"Lazy," I say but I smile. "It makes sense. But we can't take many breaks. Those three Careers and the one with a fire know we're in this area so we need to get out soon."

"Fair," he says as he unties his rope.

As we pack our bags I say, "When I got my first look at this bow after the sun came up I was really impressed. It's so light, lean and deadly. I wish it wasn't golden though. It glints in the light. It's going to make us easy to spot." I roll up my sleeping bag. "It's a huge drawback."

Then a metal parachute floats down to us and Gale grabs it. He opens it up and says, "What did Haymitch get us?" It's a pot of black dust. "What is that?"

I take it, unscrew the lid, dip my fingers in it and rub my bow. The black dust sticks to the bow like glue, coating it and making it look dull and drab but the surface feels just as smooth as it did before, not tacky. "Wonderful."

We cover our bows in it and Gale says, "Thanks, Haymitch." After we've painted our bows we use what's left on our hands to rub into our faces and arms. It leaves us gray and might help us blend into the woods.

There is a lot of dust left in the pot and I replace the lid. "We might need to redo them later," I say as I tuck the pot into my bag.

We climb down and get moving. "Prim and Peeta are so blonde and pale; they'd need the whole pot just to try and cover up."

"I can't imagine them in here," the idea leaves me feeling ill.

"They would be a team," Gale says reassuringly. "They would have helped each other… but they don't have our skills."

"True," I say. "But Prim knows medicine."

"Yes, and you always run away when someone really injured comes to your mother."

"That's the one time I don't know how to help."

He nods and then smiles. "I almost laughed when I told Caesar that I wanted you to get married because I'd like you to be taken care of. You're the most competent person I know."

I see something move out of the corner of my eye. "Do you remember the time the mayor's car broke down and the two of us had to fix it?" I ask.

Gale drops to the ground instantly and I let off two of the perfectly balanced arrows quickly. The tribute with the fire goes down. It had just been about to lunge at Gale. I got it through the hand and the forehead. Gale goes through its pack and grabs more crackers, more dried meat and a first aid kit. There's a photo of a family and Gale puts it back in the bag before looping it over its arm. "I'm sorry," he says as I rip my arrows out of its body.

The cannon goes off and we start moving again. I pull my backpack higher up my shoulders as I say, "It didn't stop moving when I said our mayor had a car. I wonder if its mayor has a car."

"It was from 8. They're richer than people in 12. I can't imagine anyone in 12 ever being able to afford a car."

We run when we see the hovercraft. We keep going up hill, keep looking for water. We slow down after a little while and Gale says, "I forgot I didn't want to run. It's just that the ship showed our position to anyone watching for signs."

"That's four. How many died in the Cornucopia?"

"six."

"So there are eleven more of them that we need to kill." He nods but doesn't say anything. "What?"

"Do you feel any different?"

"What?" I readjust my pack and pull my hair off my neck, "I am so hot."

"We've killed four people."

"Now, Gale? You want to talk about this now?"

"Only one of us goes home, Catnip, if we don't talk about it now we won't ever talk about it."

I remember our promise to open our hearts to the Capitol and so I bite back my initial response. "I think you'll find that, actually, I killed three. You only killed one."

"Technically speaking you killed all of them," he says. I turn to respond and see the way he's looking at me from under his lashes, the slight smirk. "I mean, if you're keeping a chart or something."

I can't help it; it's the expression and his matter-of-fact tone. I laugh as I say, "That's not funny."

"You're laughing."

"That's sick," I say, I can't stop laughing.

"You're still laughing."

I roll my eyes and sober as I think, "No, I don't feel different. I think if I let myself think about it… yeah, I'd be upset and disgusted. But I'm not letting myself think about it. They're still 'its,' they're just animals that need to be killed to get one of us home. You're the one apologizing to them after I shoot them."

"Yeah."

"Do you feel different?"

"No… the four from 5."

"Gale," I was hoping he had somehow missed the kid, hadn't noticed the similarity.

"We can only have one little kid on the team. Rue reminds you of Prim and she got an eight so she wasn't going to slow us down. He was fourteen and only got a four. He didn't seem like he was good at anything in the Training Center. He would have been dead weight... his name was Yors."

"Gale."

"He looked just like Rory and I left him to the Cornucopia. He wasn't Rory; his name was Yors… unlike the others I couldn't forget his name. He could have been my brother. I feel a lot guiltier about leaving that boy than I do about killing the others and going through their stuff."

I don't know what to say so I say, "Rory would get an eight, he's good at climbing, he's so smart and he can run like the wind."

Gale thinks about it. Finally he nods, "True."

We fall silent as we walk. Gale keeps readjusting his pack and I say, "Do you want to sit?"

He nods, "Yes, please."

We sit down, our backs to each other. We eat squirrel and some dried fruit. I test Gale's bag. "Your backpack is three times heavier than mine. That's why you've been huffing and blowing."

"Well, we're not about to separate. I just figured…"

"You're an idiot. We're a team or we're not."

"I'm bigger than you."

"You're an idiot," I repeat as I open his pack. I start to divide things evenly.

"I just thought-"

"That you would run yourself down, get tired and become someone who would need my help? Yes, Gale, great thinking."

"Catnip-"

"I'm hot, I'm tired, I'm thirsty and I'm irritated. Do you want to make it worse?"

"I'm sorry. There are three people in here who are allowed to be the one to survive. As we can't even find Rue can we please not have a falling out between us? I'm sorry; I was trying to be a gentleman. I won't do it again."

"Okay, I forgive you." I say and take a sip from the mostly empty water bottle, "Finish that: you need it."

He drains it, "Sorry."

"It's okay." We lean back against each other. "I'm going to hunt while you rest."

"Thank you."

"I'm going to do what I've always wanted to," I say.

"What's that?"

"All of the chipmunks, squirrels, rats, bats and mice we shot and snared were good to eat. But I've always wanted to shoot a bird. I don't think it's illegal to shoot them here."

He laughs, because it's ridiculous to suggest that we don't shoot them all the time but to people watching it will sound different. "If the tributes are fair game the birds must be. You should fulfill your dream and shoot a bird."

"I'm going to." I stand slowly. I can see birds, fat and delicious looking sitting high in a tree. I can't remember what they're called but they were in the books so I know they're safe. I shoot a rock from my bow. It hits the branch and they fly up. I hit two of them and they drop like stones. Then I fetch them and bring them to Gale. "Clean those please."

Gale begins to pluck and clean them while I make the fire then, once I get it going I say, "I'm going to look for fruit or plants. Scream if you need me. Once those birds are cooked we're going to go. Okay?"

"Thanks, Catnip."

I scavenge and find some of what my father called water berries. They taste of nothing and have no calories; they're basically just liquid held in a skin. Some animal has picked over the bush. I take off my jacket and collect the two handfuls that are left, placing them on the material and making a sling so they don't break. I start to walk back and hear a pained grunt so I pick up my pace. Then I hear the cannon sound and by the time I get back to our fire I already have an arrow on the string. Gale looks to be sitting exactly where I left him but he has blood splattered over his face. He's wearing the metal gloves and cleaning the razor wire on the grass. The six from 9 is on the ground; its head is next to its body.

"I was looking at my wire, thinking that tonight we should make a perimeter of snares around our tree. It tried to sneak up on me but it wasn't quiet. The wire went through its neck like a knife through warm goat cheese."

"You okay?"

"It never touched me. Go through its stuff. You were gone a while but the birds need another fifteen minutes, I would say." He puts the wire and his gloves back into his bag. Then he uses a stick to turn the birds.

I go through its stuff and find very little except some empty containers and some more dried fruit. It would be good not to have the meat loose in our bags. "Gale? Did you see its token?"

"No."

"It's not in its bag." He doesn't look away from the fire. "Wipe your face. You're covered in blood and you look scary."

"I just decapitated a tribute, Catnip: I am scary." He wipes his face with his jacket for a long time.

I see it on the ground, a tiny knitted cat that had been tied to its belt. The string snapped, probably when it fell. I tie it back on and walk back to the fire. The hovercraft won't come until we move away. I repack our meat in the containers. I hand one of the pieces of squirrel and fruit to Gale, "Eat while we wait." He turns the birds again as he sucks the bones clean and chews the dried fruit slowly. Once the birds are done I cut them each in half and put them into the containers. Gale had cleaned them of all their organs save for their hearts. "Where are the kidneys and livers?"

"The books didn't say if their organs were edible. Some animals' aren't. I didn't want to risk it but hearts are just meat." It makes sense what he says it and I hold out one of the hearts on the tip of the knife. He blows on it before popping it into his mouth. As he chews he says, "We're eating really well considering where we are."

"We didn't go to the Career Academies, but we grew up hungry so we can feed ourselves," I put the other heart into my mouth. It's hot and it has a great texture. As I shut the lids of the food containers it starts to rain. And as I put the containers into our bags it starts to get harder.

Gale's looking around and says, "We have to get off the ground."

We start to run but the rain is turning the dirt to mud and the top soil is starting to become a running liquid, a few more minutes and we'll be running against the current in a stream. Gale spots a tree and starts climbing and I follow hot on his heels. It has several good branches and we hoist ourselves onto ones next to each other. We sit in silence watching the ground become a full fledged river. A hovercraft comes for the six from 9. The ship gets its body but I see its head bobbing down the river. I start setting out all our water containers out, lodging them so they won't fall as they get full. Gale ties some to ropes and hangs them over branches. We wait. Gale reaches out between our branches and takes my hand. I twine our fingers together. We wait.

Chapter Text

When I go to put my jacket on I find the berries and hand half to Gale. He pops them into his mouth without question, chewing them slowly, and he groans after a few minutes when he swallows, "I was so thirsty. Thank you."

The first of my containers fills up and I put an iodine tablet into the bottle, screw the lid on and shake it. "I read the label: we need to wait a half hour."

"It's rain water. Don't you think it's clean?"

"We're inside, Gale. It's not really rain."

"Put it in your bag, otherwise I'm going to get too tempted and drink it right now."

I would laugh but I agree with him. I'm so thirsty that it's hard to put it away. We repeat the process as our different containers fill up and once it's been a while I say, "It has to have been a half hour." I take out the first bottle and drink a little before handing it to Gale. "Small sips."

"Don't worry: I won't vomit."

I smile; I would say it to Vick or Posey. I look around us and shake my head, "All that weaving we did in the Training Center to learn how to make shelter and there isn't a long leaf in sight. We spent hours on that and there is nothing to make a shelter with up here." I look up at the fake sky that has cloud after cloud rolling in. It will be raining for a long time. I'm already cold and it's only going to get worse. Gale is shivering next to me and I say, "This isn't going to stop any time soon. Haymitch, if you could get us something to use as some sort of shelter that would be good."

"You can't get two gifts in a day," Gale says, "Gifts are expensive, Catnip."

"It doesn't hurt to ask," I say. He hands me the bottle and I take a small sip.

A parachute comes from the sky. It's a big package and it gets tangled in an upper branch. "I'm too heavy to get up there," Gale says. I hand the bottle back to him before scaling the upper branches. It's heavy as rock and I carry it down with me, climbing very slowly because I'm afraid of slipping on the wet bark with the added pounds. "No one gets two gifts in a day." I don't say anything but my face must show my thoughts. "What?"

"Careers do."

"We're not Careers," he says.

"How many cannons went off today?" I start to unhook the clasps of the parachute.

"Two."

"How many tributes did we kill?"

"Oh," he looks vaguely disgusted. We've always hated the Careers. They go into the arena and kill people without caring. We've talked about how awful they are. We've watched them laugh as they killed children from our district.

"We're winning, Gale," I say gently. "I know you don't like what we're doing but one of us needs to go home, right?" He nods. I open the parachute and find a large tarp inside. It's camouflaged on one side and silver on the other.

"Insulated," says Gale without intonation.

"Great," I say it without enthusiasm. I don't want to be Careers either. We set it up so that tributes will only be able to see the silver if they're directly beneath us. If they're there we'll have already killed them or they'll be drowning. There's a camera built into the tree and we make sure it's in our shelter. It begins to warm up inside our tent. We rearrange our water containers so that they're still outside the tent and we keep slowly drinking water, hanging the first bottle outside when we're finished, we start in on the second one. "Why slow us down now?" I say, looking out at the rain. He shrugs.

We strip out of our clothes, down to our underwear, wring them out and put them on branches to dry out a bit. I twist my braid to get rid of the worst of it. We use the animal skins as towels and leave those out to dry too. We take off our boots and squeeze water out of our socks.

Gale is silent for a long time then he says, "Usually we have the Cornucopia on the first day and then the rest of the first week only has about four more kills. We've done more than that in a day. This week is supposed to be about learning the arena. Shortest Games was the sixty-third it lasted five weeks three days. They don't want that to happen again."

"We're going to take advantage of this. You've been giving running with way too much weight on your shoulders. This gives us a chance to rest." We fall silent and finally Gale sighs. "What?" I ask.

"I have to pee," he says miserably. I laugh, "It's not funny, Catnip."

I turn on my branch, "I won't look."

"Maybe I should go down."

"Into the river? You'll have to put on your wet socks. Gale, I promise I won't look."

"Okay, don't listen."

"I can't hear over the rain."

"Hum or something." I cover my ears and hum the country's anthem. "I'm decent," he says and I turn back around. He's leaning against the tree. He takes his token from his bag and opens it. "I miss the kids."

"Me too."

"You know what today is?" he asks.

"What?"

"School wide spelling bee."

"You must be relieved," I joke. I don't like him looking this sad for this long. We're not happy people but he's always imagining impossible, wonderful lives. He's always the upbeat one.

He laughs, "I hate the school wide spelling bee."

"You've gotten better." He smiles, "Which picture are you looking at?" I think it's probably the one of him holding all the kids because it's sweet and the smile is gentle, like he's remembering a good day.

"No, it's thinking about the spelling bee."

"Why is the spelling bee making you smile?"

"A couple of years ago I was talking to the baker, trading him some squirrels, it was just small talk. He was asking about school; he asked if I was ready for the school wide spelling bee. And I told him that I'm a terrible speller and that I was worried about embarrassing myself because Rory and Vick would be watching. I told him about the fact that I wanted them to stick to school and maybe avoid working down the mines and that I worried that if they saw I'm not school smart they were going to think that being school smart isn't that important because they both idolize me. Peeta was there, cleaning the kitchen, and his father said, 'Peeta reads a lot of books. He's very school smart. He might be able to help.' And Peeta said that he was only too willing to help. And for the month before the spelling bee we spent every night studying."

"I remember you disappearing around then. You wouldn't tell me where you were going."

"I was embarrassed that I needed so much help."

"You came in tenth in your grade that year. It was incredible."

"Yes, and two years and four days ago Peeta kissed me when I spelled cacophony correctly. Then he looked like he was afraid I was going to punch him but I think he's pretty great so I kissed him again." His smile gets wider. It's weird to see someone smile that widely in the arena. Sometimes the Careers smile like that but only when they're covered in someone else's blood. No one smiles like that because they're thinking of the world outside.

"Two year and four days?"

"Yes."

"Two years and four days and you never told me?"

"Sorry."

I don't want to have a fight. Even though I'm hurt I don't want him to lose the smile. So I say, "Did anyone know?"

"Mr. Mellark, about a year now. We were in the bakery late at night. He saw us, we were just talking, but we were holding hands and sharing some goat cheese. He knew and he said, 'I didn't realize you were still up. I'm forgetful tonight; I was just coming down to make sure the ovens were completely out.' And Peeta said, 'Yeah, Dad, they're out.' Mr. Mellark nodded and said, 'I'll see you in the morning.' He's never asked me if I was there to study after that. He would just say hello and smile."

"He's nice."

"Yes, he is."

I don't know what to say but I don't think now is a good time to stop talking. We got two gifts today and as we can't get the Capitol's favor by killing tributes then we'd better do it by talking, "Can you still spell cacophony?"

"C.A.C.O.P.H.O.N.Y. Or, how about this one? P.A.R.A.D.I.G.M."

"Impressive."

"I'm still not school smart but at least I can pass in small spurts."

"Gale, you're brilliant. The snares you design are incredible."

He looks a little hurt when he says, "I didn't say I wasn't brilliant, Catnip. I just said I wasn't school smart."

I nod, but I don't apologize because I'm not sure people watching will know he's hurt. I don't want to reveal his feelings to them, that's too much, so I say, "Rory is always going to like school. You don't have to worry about that. And Vick still thinks snot coming out of someone's nose when they sneeze is the height of hilarity. So by the time he starts thinking another whether or not school is important he'll be looking to Rory who always wins the spelling bee for his grade, came in sixth in the whole district last year and thinks school is great."

He nods, "I just worry. Prim is so good at helping sick people. She'll be fine when she grows up. She can easily keep herself out of the mines with those skills. And Rory is so smart that he could be a teacher, he just has to keep at his work. But Vick and Posey… they're so young, they have time to find skills."

"Plenty of time… Posey could marry a fictional Peacekeeper."

Gale laughs, "You have no idea."

I just roll my eyes. "Can I look at your pictures?" He carefully hands me the watch case. I look at the children and smile at the shaky one. "I can't believe Peeta included this shaky photo of him."

"It's a picture of someone I love taken by someone I love. Why wouldn't he?"

"It's so blurred, I only know it's him because it's blond and a boy."

"Vick was only eight and a half when he took it. You can't expect him to do it well. I like it. It makes me happy looking at it because I remember how much fun it was."

"And your siblings don't know? He comes over and plays with them and talks to you." I can't believe that Prim didn't tell me that Peeta took her picture but if she was doing deliveries for our mother it may have just slipped her mind. It wasn't like she was given a copy of it to keep.

People in the Seam have two photos of themselves: a baby picture taken a few weeks after they're born and a wedding photo. But we get our photo taken every year for IDs that we're never actually given. Sometimes I think it's a way of keeping current records on everyone in the district. Sometimes I think that we're really supposed to get the IDs but there's no money for them. I've never asked Gale for his opinion because I know he'll just end up shouting about oppression and the sickness of the government.

"Rory probably does. He smart. But… it might never have occurred to him that we could be together like that. Boys don't court other boys."

"You know who must be pretty upset about you and Peeta?"

"His mother?"

I laugh, "All the girls who follow you in a pack, giggling and giving me dirty looks."

"They must be inconsolable," He says jokingly.

"I bet Aja Dale didn't win the grand prize today. I bet she can't think beyond her broken heart."

He laughs and says, "That's mean, Catnip."

"She has said some very uncharitable things about me."

"Really?" He looks genuinely surprised and I think of all the time he spends daydreaming.

"Mostly just that I'm loose and that I might be fun now but that you're not actually going to marry a drab, angry, sullen thing like me."

"She said that to you?"

"No, she said that to Heather Brooks, but I was in the hall. She wanted me to hear."

"What did you say?"

"I laughed, a lot, and walked away. I'm pretty sure she wanted me to run away crying."

He smiles. "Well, if you had you would have come running to me. As you're so loose I probably would have comforted you, you would have gotten pregnant and then I'd have had to marry you even though you're drab, angry and sullen." We both start to laugh and I smile at the picture of Prim. "She's won for two years. If this has thrown her off, maybe Rory can finish higher."

"He's got to be thrown off to, Gale."

"Don't ruin my fantasy, Catnip. Rory came in third, Peeta came in seventh and Prim finished top of her year."

"And they all had cake and meat for dinner," I say sarcastically.

"Aja's right: you are sullen."

I sigh, "Sorry, it's a good daydream. I'm just tired."

"You've never had much of an imagination," he says.

"No, I don't," I say feeling frustrated. "I see the world as it is. You've got a million ideas and fantasies and I find them exhausting. This is the world we live in: we're in the arena and one of us will never see them again."

He doesn't get angry. He speaks calmly as he says, "They'll watch this tonight, Catnip. Do you want Prim to see you like this?"

I shake my head and breathe out slowly, "So how did Vick do?"

"Eleventh in his grade, up one place from last year. He's been studying so hard; Rory's been quizzing him."

"Rory should have come in second but he forgot phlegm has a g in it," I say.

"No, don't be foolish, phlegm wouldn't trip him: it was chrysanthemum."

I hiss through my teeth, "That's a hard one. Spell it."

"I've come in tenth in my year for the last few years. That means I get kicked out long before chrysanthemum. You spell it."

"I can't spell it. I'm pleased if I break the top twenty in my grade." The rain keeps coming down and we slip back into silence. I finally close the watch case and hold it out to Gale. "Thank you for sharing them with me."

"It's a joint token."

"I hope Rue got off the ground."

He puts the case back into his bag. "We didn't hear a cannon. She's okay."

"Haymitch," I say, looking directly at the camera, "if we are the favorites, and I think we are as we got two gifts, that means a lot of people want to help us. Gale and I promised Rue we'd be a team. I know that she didn't come with us. But we're still a team. So if you could send her something useful I'd be really grateful."

"We have food, shelter, a first aid kit, weapons and each other," says Gale. "Get her what she needs."

I yawn widely and Gale says, "Why don't you get some sleep? I got more sleep than you, I think. I'll keep watch."

"Thank you," I say and redress in my still damp clothes. If we need to run I don't want to waste time getting dressed. I lean back and buckle my belt around my legs and the tree.

I wake up slowly. "Hey," says Gale. He's redressed and drinking from one of our water bottles.

"How long was I out?"

"About four hours," he shrugs, "Nothing is happening so I figured I would just let you sleep while you could."

"Do you want a turn?"

He nods, "Yes please, that would be good."

I drink water and look out at the rain. My bow is still black and I count the arrows in my quiver, forty in total. I stare across the arena. I wonder how large it is. It's at least thirty miles long. The meadow was vast and we're nowhere near the end of the forest even after going over ten miles. I'd be going faster without Gale. He just can't run as far or as fast as me but that's okay: so far we're doing well. We're still alive. And it's better for him to slow me down than leave me by myself. I can't imagine how lonely and low I would feel without him.

Beneath me I hear something screaming, crying and begging for help. I look down and wait for it to come into view. I can't tell which tribute it is as it floats into the water beneath me. It's soaking wet and covered in blood. The current has gotten faster. It hits our tree and tries to hold on but instead it just gets pounded into the tree again and again. It sees me as it looks up the tree and screams, "Katniss, help me!" It's still gripping to the bark even as it's forced under the surface. It chokes on water as it resurfaces and spits it out, screaming, "Can't swim. Please!"

I put an arrow to the string and scream down to it, "Look up at me." It does and I try to shoot it through the eye but the way it's being tossed by the current makes it difficult. I hit it through the cheek and I can see the arrow head come out the other side of its face. It screams in pain and I call, "Sorry. This will be over faster if you stay still." It's still screaming. Now it's mindless. I aim and wait for it to bob up before releasing the next arrow. The arrow hits it in the forehead. It releases the tree and floats away silently. The cannon goes off.

I look up and see Gale watching me. "I didn't mean to wake you." The cannon goes off.

"Its screams woke me."

"Good, well, I mean, I'm glad I didn't wake you."

"It was the kind thing to do," he says.

"Maybe, but I lost two arrows." I shake my head, "You've only been asleep a couple of hours. Close your eyes."

He takes off his jacket and folds it, placing it between his head and the trunk. Then he closes his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest.

I go back to staring out at the rain. I can't quite believe that I'm bored in the arena. I sit and wait. Eventually the light goes out and the anthem begins. Gale starts awake. "It's okay, it's just the anthem."

We lean out of the tent to watch the sky. The only faces we see are the tributes we killed. "How long was I asleep?"

"About five hours, I guess."

"I feel a lot better now, thanks."

"Other than killing the drowning one I didn't do anything."

"No, but I felt I could sleep with you watching." He looks down to the ground. "It's deep."

"Yeah, it must be over our heads," I say.

"Well, yours, yes. But I doubt it's over mine."

"You're not a giant, Gale."

"No, you're just really short." I laugh at that. "So what would you be doing if you were home? This is later than we part for the night." He's doing what I've been doing. We're not killing and we're both awake which means we should be talking. If the vultures like what we talk about enough they won't interrupt with new horrors.

"I would bring our haul home, take stock, talk to Prim about her day, watch her play with her cat, eat, bathe and go to bed. Maybe, if I can fit it in, do some homework instead of trying to do it between classes. You?"

"It depends on the time. I don't know what time it is. It must be pretty late. I guess I'd be putting the kids to bed while Mom dropped off laundry. Rory would be reading by the fire. I'd be telling him to stoke it up. It's not good to read in such dim light. Vick would be claiming that he wasn't tired and that it wasn't fair that Rory doesn't have to go to bed. I'd be saying that he's four years younger. He'd say it's not fair that Posey get to stay up as late as him. I would say Posey doesn't have to go to school. He would say he needs water. I would say he doesn't want water, that he's just trying to put off going to bed. Posey would be afraid on the monster."

"What monster?" I interrupt.

"Oh, have you not heard about this?"

"No, what monster?"

"Vick heard from a boy at school that there is a monster in the mines. So Vick came home and told this to Posey but he 'improved' it by telling her that it's a monster that eats little girls. So now she thinks it's under the bed. So I would have to check it. Then I would get Vick his water. Five minutes later he would say he needed to pee. But as he's afraid of the outhouse at night he would need an escort to go. So Rory would offer to take him but he's always in the middle of his chapter so I would tell him to stay.

"We would come back and Posey would say that as I left the monster might be there now. I would point out that Rory was right there and she would say Rory wasn't paying attention. I would check again and tell her and Vick that Mom would be home in five minutes and that I needed them to pretend to be asleep or else we'd all be in trouble. Two minutes later they'd both be out cold. That would take about an hour. Then Rory would say, 'Five more pages and then I'll go to bed.' I'd finish up my homework. Twenty minutes later Mom would come home. And we'd talk about our days. A chapter after that, Rory would start yawning and all three of us would head to bed."

"One snake and Vick's still afraid of the outhouse?"

He nods, "It wasn't even a biter. And I killed it."

"It did scare him though. I heard him screaming from my house. That's five streets away."

"Yes, but I killed it with a trowel. He should be over it by now."

"Where did you get a trowel?"

"Mr. Glen had one. He was woken up. Vick was standing on the toilet, still screaming." I laugh thinking about it and Gale smiles as he says, "No one thought it was funny at the time. It was one in the morning."

"All the adults in the Seam get up at five to go down the mines. Of course they were irritated. I think everyone thinks it's funny now."

"A couple of years distance changes the way you see things."

Chapter Text

We keep our sleeping bags in our backpacks, the tent is warm enough and we'll be able to move faster if we don't need to pack up. We sleep on and off in shifts. It doesn't stop raining the next day either. We eat, sleep and rest. We make fish hooks from the bird bones and tie them to pieces of the blunt wire. We've seen a few fish jumping below us in the water that has to be almost seven feet deep. Raw fish is fine to eat as long as it's fresh but we don't catch anything.

I lose track of time. There are no cannons and it never gets fully light or fully dark. It rains continually. The only thing that marks time is the anthem. When it becomes what I think is morning I go out to a different branch and scrub myself in the cold rain. I "go to the outhouse" as people would say in District 12. The Gamemakers won't show that on TV. It's not because it's too private; they don't care about privacy. It's because it's too human. The Games aren't real life — it's all manipulation — and seeing tributes doing something so human would be strange. People in the Capitol, people betting on us, don't want to see us as real people.

We haven't received a gift in a while and I wonder what Haymitch got Rue. I hope it was so good he just can't afford to send us anything for a while. We start to run low on supplies. We start rationing it more carefully and, as we weren't eating large amounts to begin with, we start losing weight. The tent keeps us from getting wet but it's so damp and steamy that we're never fully dry. The stress of doing nothing has us both on edge. We stop talking ceaselessly and sit quietly to avoid fighting.

We've been quiet for hours one day when Gale suddenly says, "I just want to go home, Catnip. Why can't we just go home? We're not even doing anything here. I miss our kids so badly. I want my mother."

"I'm homesick too," I say. "I'd even like to see Prim's hideous cat even though it hates me."

A parachute suddenly lands on the end of my branch. I crawl out, instantly getting drenched, and pull the parachute inside. I hand it over to Gale and wring out my hair. He opens it to see what's inside and gasps. I lean over to see what it is. It's filled with food, fresh and dried. There's fresh meat and dried fruit, crackers, nuts, dried fish and a jar of that peanut butter stuff. The quantities are shocking but that's not what's so surprising.

There is a large block of goat cheese wrapped in bay leaves. The edges are cut square. "Isn't that?" he asks.

"That's cheese from Prim. My sister made this cheese." He hands it to me and pulls out bread wrapped in off white paper. "That's from the bakery. It's the same kind we had for breakfast before the reaping. I still can't believe he gave it to you for one squirrel."

"It was the morning of the reaping. People are always nice to kids the morning of the reaping."

"He's given us good deals for years. I could never figure out why."

He groans, "It's still warm." There's a white box and he says, "Haymitch, please be a good at your job as I think you are." He opens the box and smiles. "Thank you." I can't see what's inside but then he holds out the box, "Have a cookie made by my boy." The box is full of iced cookies and I take one with ivy on it. And, as hungry as I've been, I still savor it.

The last, big thing he pulls out is a metal container. I have no idea what it is but when he takes off the lid the smell hits me. "Is that Greasy Sae's soup?" I ask.

"It looks like it." He tears the bread into four pieces and hands two to me. We dip our bread into the soup and both groan as we taste it. He smiles, "That's definitely her soup."

"Wild dog. One must have gotten through the fence," I say, because the only other time her soup has wild dog is when we bring her one. It's salty, hot and slightly gamey. The meat is soft and it's clearly the second day of the soup. Her soup is always best on the second day. If I shut my eyes I can almost imagine that it's a damp day in the Hob. I can imagine we're surrounded by the people who know us and like us in spite of that.

"This is so good. All the amazing, exotic, food we had in the Capitol: none of it compares to this."

"I wonder if it's actually good," I say, opening my eyes and taking another bite.

"What do you mean? Can you not taste this?"

"No, I mean, we weren't hungry in the Capitol. We only ever have Greasy Sae's soup when we're hungry and cold. By the time we see her we're tired, we've been working all day, it's filling, hot and it costs one squirrel for two bowls. I think that's what makes it the best thing we've ever eaten."

"I don't care why it's the best food in the world it just is. We're weary and hungry now and we have our favorite soup."

"This is amazing," I say between bites. "We should ration everything else but this is too good to let it get cold."

"Agreed," we fall silent as we eat. Gale sighs, "I feel so much better."

"Me too." We finish using our bread as spoons and are left with just juice. We pass the container back and forth as we drink the soup. As I finish the last of it I say, "That was delicious."

Gale rinses the case and dries it with his jacket. He splits the food between our empty containers, careful to make sure it's even in case we need to separate. "If it's one of us and not Rue, we have to pay them back."

"Do you think they paid? You don't think Haymitch just got us stuff from home?"

"If it was the cookies, the bread and the cheese I would think it was Haymitch being good at his job. But if Haymitch was making us a package from home he would have put in the lamb liver from the butcher's that all the merchant kids rave about and that we could never afford in our wildest dreams. He wouldn't send us soup made with dog meat. The soup says they paid for it. Haymitch doesn't know that Greasy Sae's soup is our favorite. Haymitch doesn't spend a lot of time in town. He's never seen us sitting on her counter for hours, without eating, talking with the people we like. He's never seen us go in there and complain about something the kids did and plant ourselves down and eat as many bowls of soup as we can afford. He doesn't know that sometimes when we don't get anything in a day we've brought the kids and she's given us soup for all of us and soup to bring home to our moms on the promise of double payment later. The peanut butter shows he added to it, had outside money, but the stuff from home was paid for by them. They set it up."

I blink, "When do you think they set it up?"

"Considering it came the second we admitted how homesick we are?" He seems to consider the question before speaking. "Days, maybe since the minute we got into the arena but Haymitch waited until we really needed it."

"I really needed it."

"Me too… best soup we've had in weeks."

I shake my head, thinking of how much a gift costs, even the cost of contributing to a gift. "We're never going to be able to thank them enough."

"Whoever gets home gives everything we snare or shoot to the people who've helped us. We can't pay them back, no amount of money would cover it."

"Agreed," I say.

We fall silent but it's not a sad silence like before. Then Gale says, "I know about the bread, Catnip."

My blood turns cold. There's no doubt in my mind what he's talking about. I know that it's a story the people watching in the Capitol will love but I don't want to talk about it. "Oh."

"Peeta told me."

"He told you?" I feel horrified.

"Not like that, not on purpose. He didn't know that it was a secret."

"That was maybe the biggest lie I told Caesar. It wasn't okay when his name was drawn. I was screaming inside. I just thought, I might kill the boy with the bread. If he attacks me, I might kill the boy with the bread. And then you volunteered and made it worse."

"Sorry," he says.

"How did it even come up?"

"He asked me why you don't like him. I told him that you're not friendly but that doesn't mean you dislike him. I asked him if you even know each other. And he said that, every time he smiles at you, you look away as quickly as possible. That didn't sound like you. He said the only time you'd ever interacted was a couple of months after our fathers died. That you were painfully thin and you were so desperate for food you were looking in his trash cans. And his mother screamed at you so he purposefully burnt some bread and she beat him but he didn't care because he gave you the two loaves."

I feel the blush spread over my whole body. The idea of anyone, but especially Gale, knowing made me feel ashamed. "He told you that? What did you say?"

"I felt appalled that he'd told me; that's not something he should tell anyone: not even me. And I was shocked that he thought you would ever be able to look him in the eye. I told him you would always be in his debt unless you could someway to save his life. He said that you could always pay for the bread but that as it was burnt it wasn't worth anything. And I said, 'Okay but how much is you getting beaten worth? Katniss is a proud person so if she was going through the garbage she wasn't doing it for herself so how much are the lives of her mother and Prim worth? Do you have a formula to figure out how much that's worth?'"

I groan, "It's worse than that."

"Really?"

"When he gave me the bread I was coming from trying to trade Prim's baby clothes. I thought I needed money to feed them. When I saw him the next day I looked away because he had a black eye and bruised. I saw a patch of dandelion and realized I didn't need money to get food: I have a slingshot and know edible weeds."

He smiles, but it's not a happy smile. He reaches out and takes my hand, "It's worse than that."

"How can it be?"

He sighs and leans back on his branch, making himself more comfortable. "I didn't know Peeta, he was younger and a merchant. I wasn't trading with his dad yet. I saw him at school, with a black eye, watching me in the hall. I was with some boys in my year and I was afraid of what he might say. Merchant kids can be so rude to kids from the Seam and I didn't want him to say whatever he was going to say in front of the others. So I went to him and asked him what he wanted. And he said, 'Katniss Everdeen is starving to death. Your dad just died too and you're not starving. You can see her ribs. You need to show her whatever you've been doing.'" I groan again and he nods. "And then I saw you looking at my snare. I was so angry. I don't care how hungry you are you can't steal. I had two little brothers and a mother who was pregnant with a dead man's baby. She was three weeks pregnant when he died. And when I shouted at you, you were so scared and I realized you weren't stealing; you were trying to figure it out. And I asked you your name because I didn't want you to know that I had been talking about you. And you said Catnip-"

"I didn't!"

He nods, "Yes, you did. And what struck Peeta was that he could see your ribs but what I saw was that your hair was falling out."

"So I owe our whole friendship to him?"

Gale thinks about it for a minute and shakes his head. "No, you owe the snares to him, maybe, but you taught me to shoot and you taught me what plants I could eat. Maybe, I wouldn't have been paying attention to how painfully thin you were. But you're my best friend, not because some kid told me you were starving: you're Catnip. Who else would put up with me? Not the girls who follow me around in groups, that's for sure. If I talked to them for a half hour they wouldn't be interested in talking to me for a second half hour." I say nothing and he says, "Aren't you going to disagree?"

"No," I say and we both laugh. "I'm just the same though."

"I'd say you're more likable than me. You're just not friendly."

"Except with fictional Peacekeepers. Fictional Peacekeepers adore me because I'm so friendly." Gale laughs. "And the boys who're asked you if they can ask me for a walk."

"They're too intimidated to follow you in groups. Other than being tall I'm not intimidating. But you, you don't talk to people at school, you're a mystery to the boys who want to ask you for a walk. I say they can ask you but they don't know you and I always assume, and sort of hope, you'll say no. They don't know you and they're not asking you to go for a walk they're asking a girl with breasts, big eyes and great hair. They have no idea who the real you is… except to the Peacekeeper. I'd be glad for you to say yes to him." I hear a rustle outside and Gale hears it too. He reaches for his bow and gets an arrow poised as he casually says, "I think he would make you happy." I pull back the tarp and duck out of the way to give him a clear shot. He pulls back the string but then slowly releases the tension from the wire, taking the arrow from the string. "I almost shot you." I turn and see Rue in the pouring rain.

Chapter Text

I smile as I straighten up and say, "Rue, hi, come in." She crawls over the branch and into our tent. She's dripping wet and much thinner than she was when I last saw her. She pulls off her wet jacket and squeezes the water out. She's shivering and runs her fingers through her hair. She looks at us in our underwear, our clothes are outside because they were starting to reek of sweat and dirty skin, and I say, "Gale's jacket is dry. You can take your stuff off to dry out and wear his as a dress to get warm."

Gale hands her his jacket and turns on his branch, "I'm not looking, promise."

She has to peel off her soaking clothes. But she's wearing thigh high socks that look waterproof. They have a huge flourished 12 sewn into the front of each one. "Nice, did Haymitch send you those?"

"Yes, I have matching gloves, and earmuffs but I couldn't climb in them. They keep me warm and dry." She zips up Gale's jacket and it swims on her, allowing her to keep her modesty.

"Gale, Rue's decent."

He turns around and smiles at her. "So what did Haymitch get you? I didn't get to see."

She shows him the socks. She pulls the gloves out of her bag. They're shoulder length. She holds them close to her as though we might snatch them away from her. Then she shows us the earmuffs, "I have some extra socks and I was using them as mittens but the rain is so cold that I put them over my ears and then tucked my hands inside. But once the socks were wet it didn't do much good. Then Haymitch sent me these and they're so warm. And the earmuffs block out the sound of the rain but nothing else. I can still hear snapping twigs and stuff so I could get a little sleep without having someone sneak up on me."

"Did you find some place out of the rain?" I ask.

She shakes her head, "The leaves are too thin. But Haymitch sent me this." She pulls a small metal rod out of her bag that has a 12 stamped into it. As she pulls on each end it becomes longer and I see that it's an umbrella. The canopy is clear and when she opens it I see it's a dome that fits over her completely when she pulls her legs up.

"That's really good," says Gale.

She nods and closes it. "Your tent's really good too."

"Yes, but it took two people to put it up," says Gale.

I ask, "Why didn't you come with us?"

But Gale speaks over me, "Are you hungry?"

She nods, "I was fine before the rain because I know plants but since this rain I've gone through my supplies."

"It's been raining a while," says Gale as he goes through his bag.

"Twelve days," she says.

"Really?" I ask.

"Yes," she says and pulls out a water bottle that has twelve scratches in it. "I put one there after the anthem every time it plays."

"Wow," I say.

Gale pulls out the bread that's left and the peanut butter. "Did you try this in the Capitol?" She nods. "Did you like it?" She nods again and Gale hands it to her, "It's filled with calories."

She dips the bread into the peanut butter and makes a noise of pleasure and relief. "This bread is really good."

"It's from home," says Gale. "Our district sent it." Rue's eyes go wide and she looks worried. District 11 must be a lot like 12. "It's okay; we're a team. It's all shared. It's from Peeta's bakery."

She nods slowly and says, "Did your young man make this?"

"No, his father made it," says Gale with a smile, "your young man" must be an 11 phrase. "Peeta made these," he says taking out one of the boxes of cookies.

She shakes her head, "The bread is great, thanks."

"Rue, we're a team and I know Peeta would want you to have one."

She takes one and says, "Thank you."

We spend the next hour slowly getting her full. She doesn't eat quickly; it's not because she isn't hungry: she's smart and doesn't want to vomit. She eats a little of everything. Gale asks, "Do you have any empty containers?"

"Why?"

"We need to re-split the food," says Gale.

"Really?"

"Yeah, if we need to flee we all need supplies."

"The Careers don't do that."

"No, but they aren't a team," he points out.

"But they're allies. That's the same thing," she says.

Gale looks distressed and I take over the conversation, "We're sorry, Rue. Gale and I have been friends for so long that we understand each other very well. It never crossed our minds that you wouldn't understand. We're not allies. We're not going to kill everything and then kill each other. We're a team. We're going to stay together, share everything we have, protect each other, and once we've cut down their numbers we're going to split up and one of us will get home. There are still a lot of tributes right now and we can't take them all on alone. This way we won't lose too much weight and we'll get sleep. And we won't have to be so lonely. Sometimes you watch the Games and tributes cry because they're so cold, tired, hungry and scared. We're not going to have that happen to us. We're not going to kill each other. Is that why you didn't come with us?"

She is silent for a while then says, "When you seemed like you only had a couple of skills I believed that you wanted me to come with you because I reminded you of your sister. But then you got those scores. And there were the interviews… Do you remember the blind girl from 5?"

Now I understand why she didn't come with us. The idea that she didn't want slow us down, or that she wanted to be by herself, hadn't quite seemed right. "Everyone remembers the blind girl from 5," I say.

"She got a one, because they don't give out zeros. And she was so pleased that she got allies, she wasn't even supposed to get out of the Cornucopia," Rue says and I nod. "Did they interrupt class at your school too? They stopped all our classes and we had to watch it." I nod. "It was four hours." I nod. "And when she couldn't scream any more they didn't even kill her. They just left her there, tied down."

"It took three days for her to die… she just cried silently," says Gale. "That poor girl." He paws through his bag and pulls out the watch case, "This is my token." He opens it and starts showing her the pictures, "That's my young man, as you call him, he gave me this. That's Rory, he's fourteen, he's great, he's smart and calm and quiet and kind of shy. That's Prim, she's your age, she's Catnip's sister, she's sweet and nice and people like her on sight. That's Vick, he's ten, and a fantastic story teller. He's funny, really funny, even at inappropriate times. And that's Posy, the baby, she loves the color pink and Catnip's hair. She's turning four… well, if it's really been raining as long as you say then it's already happened. Happy birthday, sweetheart, I'm sorry I missed it." He closes the case slowly, "This isn't the token of a boy who ties little girls down and tortures them until they can't scream anymore."

She goes through her bag and pulls out two empty containers. I rinse them with clean water and dry them with a skin as Gale gets out the food and starts to divide everything. Rue says, "There's never been a team before."

"No, well District 12 has never had a single volunteer before," I say. "District 12 sometimes got elevens back in the old days. In Games eight, seventeen and thirty-four District 12 had an eleven but never a twelve. And I don't believe any district has ever had a pair of siblings — or people who might as well be — in the arena at the same time. Gale and I were always going to be a team. And someone should have volunteered for you."

"I'm the oldest of six. There was no one who could have taken my place."

Gale nods, "And that's why you should be one of the three people who has a chance of getting out of here. Your name was in there nine times, that's more than some people have when they're eighteen."

He hands her the cases of the food and I hand her two extra water bottles. "I've watched you," she says, "You've killed everyone who didn't die in the Cornucopia." We both nod. "But you kill them really fast."

"We don't want to kill anyone," I say. "We just want to get one of us home." She looks tired and I say, "Why don't you get some sleep. We're pretty safe up here and Gale and I will keep watch," She looks nervous again. "I swear on Prim's life: we would never hurt you."

"Okay," she nods and then climbs to a slightly higher branch and belts herself to it.

We're silent until her breath becomes slow and even and then Gale says very softly, "That poor girl from 5."

"Yeah."

"Her poor mother," he says. "That girl, I know she was seventeen but she wasn't. She'd been led around, and helped to eat and bathe her whole life. And her mother had to let her come in here. At least our mothers had the small comfort of knowing we wouldn't starve to death and that we wouldn't be alone."

"Now Rue's parents can have that same small comfort."

"She lost a lot of weight."

"Well, days without food, sleep, and a lot of stress take their toll pretty fast," I say. "She'll be okay. If she's the one who gets home she'll have a lot of time to gain the weight back." I yawn and stretch.

"Get some sleep, Catnip. I can keep watch. Nothing is going to happen."

I belt myself to the tree and close my eyes and try not to think of the girl from 5. But I can't. I think of that girl who'd been taken care of her whole life then I think of brushing and braiding Prim's hair every morning. I think of Gale chasing after Rory after he's forgotten his lunch. I sing to Prim when she has nightmares. Gale kisses Vick's scraped knees.

"We've done them no favors," I say opening my eyes. Gale starts. "Sorry."

"You scared me. I thought you were asleep; it's been twenty minutes."

"Sorry, I was just thinking about the kids. We take too good care of them."

"What does that even mean?" he sounds genuinely confused.

"When I was Prim's age I had all the skills I have now. If I'd been reaped at twelve I would have had a chance. We've done them no favors."

He quiet for a while then he says, "No, we haven't. Get some sleep."

I close my eyes and try to block it out. I sleep without dreaming, which is a relief in this place. I wake to the noise of soft voices. Gale and Rue are talking about the interviews and Gale says, "She's never blown a kiss in her life."

"Not true," I say as I stretch.

"You've blown someone a kiss?" he asks sounding incredulous.

"Every day of my life until I was eleven."

Gale looks so sad as he says, "Oh, Catnip, you shouldn't have done it."

"What do you mean?" asks Rue.

"When I was little, about seven or eight, my mother told me that the life of a girl from the Seam can be measured in blown kisses." It was one morning when I was standing by the window waving. My mother had come to me and started brushing out my hair before braiding it. She'd spoken quietly in deference to the hour. That was back when I still felt like I had a mother. I remember it so clearly. "'When you're a baby, your mother takes you to the window and blows a kiss to your father on your behalf before he goes down the mines. When you're a little girl, you know the noise of your front door closing before dawn. You never sleep through it, and your rush to the window to blow your father a kiss. When you're a young woman you hear the door shut and you go to the window to blow two kisses: one to your father and one to your suitor. When you're a young wife you get out of bed at the same time as your husband and pack him a lunch and send him off with a blown kiss. When you're a young mother you take your baby daughter to the window and blow a kiss to her father on her behalf and your own. And when your daughter is grown you're busy getting things ready before she has to go to school so she blows a kiss for both of you.'" I sigh and say, "After my father died it took me months to sleep through the noise of our neighbor's door shutting. Prim used to wake up and cry, every single day. But, now, I'm the first one to leave the house every morning and she sleeps through it. I haven't blown a kiss since I was eleven. Then the reaping happened and it made me look girly so I did it."

Gale still looks sad but he says, "Posey wakes up when I leave and blows me a kiss every morning."

I think of the way she climbs all over him, asks him all of her questions and reaches for him when she's crying. I think of how when we come home from the woods to pick the kids up before school Gale always says, "Give me a hug," scooping her out of her chair in arms.

"You were in the room when she was born. You're the closest thing she's ever had to a father," I say.

"I'm glad I like boys. I don't want to be in the room when a baby's born ever again. Once was more than enough."

I remember when Prim was born. My father and mother disappeared into the bedroom with a midwife. My mother screamed a lot. Every so often my father had come out with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. I suppose he was terrified. 12 loses a lot of women in childbirth. He would ask me if I was okay, if I was playing nicely by myself, he made me lunch. And finally, after six hours, my father brought Prim out to meet me. She was little, squirmy and I didn't like her much. My mother's screams were the first thing that made me think I didn't want children. And looking at Prim, red, squishy and crying was the second.

"Did you lie in your interview?" I ask Rue.

"I said I was coming with you."

"Good point."

"Did you lie?" Rue asks Gale.

"No, not really."

"What about the Peacekeeper?" she asks with a smile.

"No, he's not real," I say.

"Yes, he is," says Gale.

"What's his name?" asks Rue with a smile.

Gale smiles and looks at me, studying me and finally says, "Darius."

"What?" I say. I can't believe it; I hadn't thought Gale would say a real name.

"Is he real?"

"Yes, he's real and he's not the least bit interested in asking me for a walk," I say.

"Yes he is. He asked me."

"No he didn't."

"Why don't you believe me?"

"For so many reasons. Not the least of which is that Darius isn't a coward. I've seen boys at school ask girls for walks and I know it's embarrassing when girls say no. But Darius is a Peacekeepers so if I said no who cares? He's not a boy. I'm just a girl from the Seam. He wouldn't have been embarrassed."

"Good point."

Rue was looking between us, confused, "You really know a Peacekeeper? You know a Peacekeeper as a friend?"

"Yes."

"But, he's a Peacekeeper," she says.

I think of him laughing with us and talking to Rory about school and helping Prim pull Lady out of a bush. I think of him buying poached squirrels without ever quarreling about the price. I think of Posey falling in the Hob and Darius picking her up and rubbing her back as she wailed and saying, "You're okay; it was just a little bump. Look, here's Katniss and Gale will be right back. He's just selling a turkey to Cray." He handed her off to me with a pat to her head. I think of him shouting at Vick for doing something inappropriate in the street and, instead of threatening him with the law, saying, "Your brother is going to hear about this!"

I think of the day when he knocked on my door early in the morning when I wasn't fully dressed, my hair wasn't braided and I was still in a thin shirt. He said, "I just wanted to tell you to be careful when you go to the meadow to pick flowers. The fence is on now, as it always is, but it will be going off at eleven. So be careful, an animal can get through the fence after eleven. It's going to be off for at least the next three days. Like I said, the fence is on, as it always is. But it will be going down at eleven. So watch out for animals after that." I nodded and ran to Gale's. He opened the door and blinked, "We're not supposed to meet for almost an hour." I leaned in and whispered, "The fence is on until eleven." He nodded and whispered, "We'll skip out of school at lunch."

To Rue I say, "Darius is great; he's our friend."

She still looks disbelieving. Gales says, "In school they tell you that Peacekeepers are the ambassadors of the Capitol; sent to help guide the districts and keep people safe." She nods. "That's who Darius is. He isn't like the ones who think it's okay to hit people for making eye contact. He's there to make sure things run smoothly. He's kind. When mothers go into town they tell their children that if they get lost they need to look for Darius because he'll help them."

I nod, "And you can't miss him: he's tall and has red hair that can't be combed straight."

"Is he handsome?" she asks.

"Very," I say. Gale beams at me, "Stop smiling, Gale. It's a fact."

"No, it's a judgment. Not everyone thinks he's 'very' handsome. He is handsome. It's the 'very' that made me smile."

I roll my eyes and look to Rue, "He's a good man." This is dangerous ground that Gale has pulled us onto. Peacekeepers aren't supposed to be nice. "He's always willing to help. Whenever the Peacekeepers have their morning meetings in the square he's the first to volunteer for patrolling or guarding; he oversees the coal being loaded onto the trains. He's young but he's very good at what he does."

"So, does he whip people?"

"No, any whipping falls to our Head Peacekeeper: Mr. Cray. Isn't that the way it is in 11?" asks Gale.

"No, there's too much whipping for it to all be done by one person."

"Well, according to the Code of Peacekeeping Conduct, the only person who should be handing out whippings is the Head Peacekeeper," says Gale.

I laugh at that, "How do you know that the Code of Peacekeeping Conduct says?"

"It's in the Justice Building's library. Rory got it out last time the coal trains had a problem and school was canceled so that all the adults could help fix it. He thought it was interesting, kept telling me bits so in the end I just read it."

"Was it interesting?" I ask.

"Parts," Gale nods. "I learned that Cray is a perfect Head Peacekeeper: he's separate from us but knows what everyone is doing." It's not true. Cray lives in his own world of sleeping with poor women and buying poached food. "And Darius is exactly what a Peacekeeper should be. There's a section about embracing your assigned district and conforming to local custom while behaving, at all times, with the dignity of the Capitol. They are to be a part of society but remember that they are not of the district." To Rue he says, "In 12 we have a tradition of inviting the Peacekeepers to weddings and then they say, 'Thank you for the invite sadly I have a prior commitment.' Darius didn't know that he wasn't supposed to say yes."

I laugh, remembering it. And I pick up the story from Gale. "He'd only come a few weeks before. He was just barely eighteen and he was friendly with Gale and I and he told us that he was pleased to know he was making such an impact on the district that people would want him to come to their wedding."

"We laughed at him," says Gale.

"Then he started panicking and worrying about saying yes and what to give them as a gift. He asked what was traditional and we said that people don't bring gifts they bring food. So he brought two roast turkeys."

"It was more meat then any house in the Seam has ever had in it at once," Gale says.

"Now he says that he has a prior commitment," I say and Gale smiles.

"But, if I invited him to my wedding he would come and bring beef," says Gale. "And if Catnip invited him to hers he would say, 'No, the bride doesn't need to invite the groom.'"

I sneer at him, "Stop it."

"You really never noticed that he flirts with you continually?"

"He doesn't," I say.

"You've got no idea," Gale laughs.

I shake my head, "He doesn't."

"New Year's Eve," he says.

"What?"

"When he tried to convince you that you should trade a squirrel for a kiss, and started playing with your braid. You laughed the whole time." I remember it well. It was so cold and the Hob was so nice and warm. We'd put the little kids to bed and Rory was browsing through books he couldn't afford while Gale and I were sitting with Greasy Sae. It was fun and everyone counted the seconds down to midnight. Darius had kissed me on the cheek at the strike of twelve but a lot of people had.

"He was joking."

Gale shakes his head, "And Aja Dale thinks you're loose."

"He's my friend."

"It sounds like you're oblivious," says Rue. Gale laughs. "Is he really nice?"

"I remember he pushed a little boy once," I say. I think back to the day. It was so shocking to see Darius, the nice Peacekeeper, my friend, shove a small child. "And then he screamed, 'Get down.' Everyone in the street dropped because when someone, Peacekeeper or not, shouts like that you get down. He started shooting and I turned on the ground and there was hugest wild dog I've ever seen. Darius is a good shot but it took eight blasts to kill it. And once it was down he turned to the little boy and said, 'I'm sorry I pushed you. I wanted to get you behind me and there wasn't time to explain.'" I smile, "And I guess Gale is right about conforming to custom. You can't sell anything without a merchant license other than metal to the jeweler. But anyone can trade things as long as money isn't involved. And dog isn't actually considered food so you couldn't sell it to the butcher anyway. But he picked it up and carried it to Greasy Sae. She makes soup out of anything. He traded it for a week of dinner."

Rue looks shocked and Gale says, "Which proves it; he conforms to custom by trading a dog for dog soup but he isn't one of us because if we brought a dog we would want dinner for three days for our families."

"Yeah, he did trade it for way too little," I agree. "But he didn't need the soup."

We fall silent and I think of Darius laughing with us. It's strange to realize I miss him. He's a terrible Peacekeeper and he really is our friend. I remember a few years ago that Prim wanted an aluminum bracelet so badly. She hadn't asked for one but she always lingered by the jeweler's window and pointed them out on people's wrists. I wanted to give her one for her birthday. They were expensive and I had been selling my catches to only the merchants, getting cash to buy one. I saw Darius in the street and he asked where I'd been and I told him why I'd been avoiding the Hob and he wished me luck.

I worked all week but by the morning of Prim's birthday I was still eight coins short. I'd seen Darius again and he'd spoken softly when he said, "I want to trade for ten rabbits." I laughed and said that rabbits were too fast to be shot and needed to be snared which was why Gale was the better person to ask. But I told him that even Gale couldn't get ten rabbits in a day. He said, "I know, but I'm asking you. Not all at once, I just want your next ten." I asked why and he put his hand in front of my face and opened his fingers, revealing the bracelet. "Because this is worth nine rabbits. But I'm giving it to you prior to payment so it's ten. That's how it works, right?" I grabbed it with a smile, "Ten rabbits when I can," I agreed.

"Why are you smiling?" Gale asks.

"I'm just thinking."

"About Darius?" asks Rue.

"You should both try to get some sleep," I say. "It's been a while since you slept, Gale, and you haven't been sleeping enough, Rue. I'll keep watch."

"She was thinking about Darius," Gale confirms and Rue laughs.

Chapter Text

It does not stop raining. We sleep on and off. We show Rue our supplies; she shows us hers. She tells us that the useless sunglasses are actually used to see in the dark. We re-split things between us. She tells us about a simple boy being shot by the Peacekeepers for taking a pair of the night-vision glasses. I look at Gale and know that he's as horrified as me.

"The woman who makes great soup, Greasy Sae, she has a little granddaughter who's not right. She takes things, doesn't really know why it's wrong. But there's a system. She takes things, people see it, tell her grandmother what she took and she either gives them soup or gets it back from the girl when she's sleeping," he smiles thinking about it. "She's nice, she doesn't know any better. When Darius was new he saw her take something and he grabbed her wrist and she just started to wail. And someone explained it to him gently."

"He looked horrified when she started crying," I remember.

"You don't expect a fourteen year old to cry like a toddler," he shrugs. To Rue he says, "After that he never got in her way again. You can't hold her to those standards. It's not theft when you don't know what theft is."

From then on we use the glasses at night, when we watch the river below us. It rains too much to hunt, too much to travel. Haymitch sends food. We watch things float by. The Cornucopia must have flood because we see supplies float by us for three days.

Over the days Rue gains some weight, Gale and I lose it. We talk about our siblings, she tells us all about hers. We laugh at silly stories. No one ever laughs in the arena but I can't remember any games with so much down time.

We talk about that we would do with the money if we won. It's supposed to be a light topic but it falls flat, because for one of us to win the other two will have to die. She tells us about how hard life is in her district, there's less food than there is in 12, the Peacekeepers are mean, even the children work. 11 has no food and 12 has no coal and in a weird way that actually makes sense. Thinking about it makes me feel sick, we're lucky, Gale and me, we have skills to feed our family and have — compared to her — nice, easy lives.

Gale says, "Let's make a pact: no matter who wins the other district gets one of the month's of gifts. You see it on TV they send the victor's district food packages. If it's me or Catnip we'll make sure District 11 gets a month. Will you do the same for us? Just send one month of food to our people?" She nods and holds out her hand. Gale shakes it, seriously, "Thank you."

Sometimes it all gets to be too much. We're on edge the day the cannon goes off. But no one is moving out there. "I wonder if it was drowning or freezing," Gale says.

"Could have been illness," I say. "If you're soaking wet and freezing cold, you can catch something."

"Could have fallen asleep and fallen out of a tree," Rue offers.

"So that's eight tributes and us in here," says Gale.

That night we learn that it was the other one from 8.

It's so quiet and we're always on the edge, listening for any noise. We keep our weapons close. Gale sighs one day, "The stress of sitting here. I'd like one good night's sleep."

"I just want out of the tree," I say.

"That would be okay too," he agrees. It stops raining on the nineteenth day in our tree. We get another package from Haymitch, it's all dried goods. He must believe we're about to be able to move otherwise he would have sent us more fresh food. He thinks the rain is done. The only fresh things are three pears and piece of cheese from Prim. Everything else is Capitol food. I wonder who paid for the cheese. It was no one from home; not after the first package: no one from 12 could afford a second gift. We cut the pears and spread the cheese over them in a thick layer and eat them slowly. We pack the food away.

The sun starts to shine and the birds start to sing. We sit there, now in the shade of our tent, listening and watching to the sun on the water. "I missed the birds," says Rue. "I was okay by myself when the birds were singing but then when the rain started and they stopped it became so lonely."

"You know," says Gale with smile, "Catnip can make them stop."

I shake my head, "No, my father could."

"No, Peeta swears you can. He's seen it. He's not a liar."

"He's remembering wrong."

"Will you try?" asks Rue. "Please?" I open my mouth to say no and she says, "What if you hadn't been able to come in for Prim and she made older friends who would help her? You'd be so happy. And what if one of the older kids had an incredible skill and wouldn't even try to do it for Prim? Wouldn't you be sad? Wouldn't you want the older kid to at least try for her? Everything is so awful and that big kid could make it just a little better." Gale laughs.

"You're manipulating me," I say with a smile.

She nods but says, "Please try?"

I look at her and take a deep breath, "Are you, are you coming to the tree? Where they strung up a man they say murdered three. Strange things did happen here, no stranger would it be if we met up at midnight in the hanging tree." The birds join me, singing in key with me. "Are you, are you coming to the tree? Where the dead man called out for his love to flee. Strange things did happen here, no stranger would it be if we met up at midnight in the hanging tree." The birds go quiet and slowly stop making any noise. "Are you, are you coming to the tree? Where I told you to run, so we'd both be free. Strange things did happen here, no stranger would it be if we met up at midnight in the hanging tree. Are you, are you coming to the tree? Wear a necklace of rope, side by side with me. Strange things did happen here, no stranger would it be if we met up at midnight in the hanging tree."

Rue and Gale stare at me in the total silence. Rue is smiling widely, looking at me with shock. Gale studies me as he speaks very softly, "That is a really disturbing song."

I laugh and the silence is broken. The mockingjays pick up the tune. "My father taught it to me when I was little. I sang it to Prim and we made rope necklaces, not nooses, just necklaces. We had no idea what it was about. My mother screamed at him. He told me to forget the words."

"So, of course, you remember it perfectly," says Gale and I nod.

"Never sang it again though. Not until now."

"I don't think she's angry," says Rue. "I think you're allowed to sing it in the arena. If I'd gotten below a seven I think I would have just stepped off the pedestal. There are worse things than dying."

Gale thinks about it then nods, "That's true, actually. Stepping off the pedestal is a lot faster than what the Careers will do if they get the chance."

"Thank you," Rue says to me, "that was incredible."

"I didn't think I could do it," I say. "I loved it when my father used to stop the birds."

Gale looks around and says, "This tent is too heavy to bring with us. I think, if we cut it, we can end up with three pieces that won't be too heavy and we can use it for a little shelter. It's insulated."

I nod but say, "Let's do that on the ground. It will be easier."

"Okay. I was going to say that our next step was to destroy the Cornucopia but we've seen so much stuff float by us that I don't think that's going to be much of an issue." Gale looks to me, "What do you think?"

"Rue's gained weight, we've lost some but that was inevitable. We're rested, we've got supplies. We still need to find water but this is as healthy as we're going to be. We need to start hunting. I know that none of us want to do it but the faster we kill tributes the faster one of us gets home."

"I've never killed anyone," says Rue.

"Neither did we until we came in here," says Gale. "But you don't have to until we split up. Just get down when we need to start shooting, okay?"

"Really?"

"Really," says Gale.

"So what am I doing for the team?"

"Do you know anything about first aid?" I ask. "You know plants."

"Yeah, I know how to help people who are hurt."

"Good," says Gale, "because we don't."

"I panic and run," I say. "I won't run in here but I'm still not going to be of much use."

"So we'll do the fighting, and you can fix us," Gale says. "Right now we're not going anywhere. This water is not clearing up fast."

"Any time we say, 'Remember the time' you drop down to the ground. Okay?" I ask and she nods. We redress but we know we aren't going anywhere.

"I still don't know what I'm doing for the team."

Gale smiles at her, "Catnip is my best friend. But we irritate each other. Well… I irritate her. I'm not even sure why. I just talk and she starts rolling her eyes."

"You don't listen to yourself when you speak, do you?" I ask.

He shakes his head, "Not really. It would be a waste of resources for us both to listen."

"Does Peeta really tell you to come and talk to me when you start rambling?" I ask.

"Yes."

"I'm not sure I like him."

He smiles and then turns back to Rue. "Before you came Catnip and I were on edge. We were close to fighting."

"Yeah, we were so close that our district sent us food to stop us from breaking," I add.

"And then you came," says Gale. "You gave us someone new to talk to. You're nice, you have stories we haven't heard and siblings we haven't met. We have to be in the arena, Rue, but we don't have to be miserable until we're actually dying. And, believe me: you're helping. Catnip never would have stopped the birds for me."

We look around us watching the water. It doesn't seem to be dropping at all. "Rue, can you swim?" I ask.

"No, why?"

"The water isn't going anywhere," I say.

"It's just so slow you don't see it," says Gale.

"Look at the waterline on the trees. It's not going anywhere."

Gale studies it, looking at a lot of tree trunks. "We're inside. If it's not draining it's because the Gamemakers don't want it too. So either we're supposed to sit tight, or start moving through the treetops."

"Or swim," says Rue.

"Yes, but you can't swim and Catnip and I can only sort of swim, we can theoretically swim. We know how to swim; we've just never done it. Climbing through the treetops isn't going to be easy. I've got great balance but I weigh as much both of you put together."

"Let's give it a while. It could be a problem with the system or something," I shrug.

"See," Gale says to Rue. "That's what irritates me about Catnip: she just accepts things."

I shake my head slowly, "You see a thousand possibilities that don't exist. You can't climb on thin branches; Rue can't swim so we'll sit for another hour and keep an eye on the waterline."

"She's too pragmatic. Drab, angry, sullen and pragmatic."

I laugh, "Do you have a better idea?"

Gale thinks, "No, but if we do end up going through the trees I'll use two branches. I'll throw a piece of rope over the branch above the one I'm walking on. I'll split the weight."

"Good plan," I agree. "Rue, you'll go first, you won't weaken the branches."

We wait for a long time then Gale sighs, "I'm cutting up the tarp." He stands carefully and uses a knife to slice it into three even pieces. They're large but once they're folded we can fit them into our backpacks.

Eventually I say, "So, climbing it is."

"We should go to the Cornucopia," says Gale. "We can see the lay of the land."

"I agree," says Rue.

Rue and I have no problem moving through the trees but Gale has to go slowly and methodically. Five hours later it's getting dark and we're nowhere near the Cornucopia. I say, "We have to stop for the night."

"Yeah, it'll get dangerous," says Rue, "We only have one pair of night vision glasses."

We set about finding strong branches. Tonight we have no tent but it's clear, the fake stars are bright above us. We strap ourselves into our sleeping bags and eat dinner. We go quiet as the anthem plays and Gale says, "I feel way more exposed out here."

"We are more exposed," says Rue.

There's a light and I point, "I'm going to go kill that. Can I have the glasses please?" Gale hands them to me and I un-strap myself and tie the sleeping bag and my things to the branch. "I'll go faster if I leave my bag here."

"Be careful," says Gale.

"I will be," I promise as I sling my quiver over one shoulder and my bow over the other. Alone I run through treetops. I spot the good branches and jump between them. It only takes me ten minutes. I'm only a few trees away from it, the seven from 7. It's using a lantern. It's looking down at the water and it is terribly thin. I need it to look up so I movie silently forward and say, "Psst." It looks up and I shoot it in the eye. It falls into the water with a splash, leaving its bag still on the branch. The cannon goes off as I climb over and take it without looking in. It doesn't matter what's in it, I don't want the Careers to get it. It's still holding the lantern. It's floating on its back, the arrow points at me accusingly.

I go back, retracing my way to our tree. "I'm coming," I call from a couple of trees away. "Don't shoot me."

"Okay," says Gale. It's actually easier for me to climb over them and drop down onto my branch, "Dead?"

"The seven from 7." I open its backpack. "Let's see what it had." I open it up and sigh as I feel my spirit sink.

"What's wrong?"

I pull out the soft doll. "I have its token."

Gale nods, "We'll put it on the next tribute. They always send the tokens home. There's never been a lost token. Its mother will get it back."

"Yeah," I say, "but it's bad enough that I killed it: now I stole its stuff too."

"It was an accident," says Rue.

"Yeah," I agree. I take out a pair of warm gloves, some dried fruit and two bottles of water. It's a large brown backpack, large enough for my stuff, and will blend in better than my orange one. I transfer my things into the new bag and put everything not useful and the doll into my old one. I put iodine pills into the water and hand Rue the fruit and Gale the gloves.

It's so sudden when it happens. It just drops onto my branch and Gale shoots it right through the chest. It starts to drop backwards but I lunge at it and put the orange backpack over its arm. It tries to grab for me but I pull back too fast and it plunges into the water below.

"The nine from 1," says Gale. Both the tributes from 1 got a nine but it was the one that was good with spears and knives. Gale's breathing hard and has wide eyes from the surprise. "There are six tributes left, plus us. We have to split up tomorrow."

I nod and realize that Rue hasn't said anything.

Chapter Text

There's blood everywhere. Her eyes have already glazed over. I stand to see her; she's on a branch slightly above mine. I search for a pulse but know I won't find one, she's gone. I breathe slowly. "Gale, Rue is dead."

"No," he sounds disbelieving.

"It cut her throat. She's dead." I stroke her hair off her face and gently put her hands in her lap. She looks more comfortable like that. I take her backpack from her and start removing the supplies.

"Katniss," says Gale and he sounds shocked and disappointed. I don't like him using my real name when he hasn't said it in so long.

"One of us needs to get home to make sure 11 gets a month's supply of food and gifts. If I was her mother I wouldn't be upset by her teammate taking supplies so that she could survive. We liked Rue, we were a team. If I die I hope you take my supplies. One of us needs to get home." he sniffs and I say, "Stop it, Gale, all you're doing is wasting moisture. You're not doing anything to help Rue. You cry when you get home. You cry once you're safe." He's still sniffing and I say, "She had warm socks, earmuffs, gloves and an umbrella. Once she came to us she was never cold or hungry, she slept, she gained weight. She was never lonely, she laughed, I stopped the birds for her. And when the end came it was fast. Her district will get a month's gifts. She had a better Games than any other twelve-year-old has ever had. You've already done all you can for her now you're just wasting energy."

He sniffs and says, "Yeah. Yeah, I know." I take his pack and divide her supplies between us. Then I set about wiping off as much of the blood as I can. I try to make her look better and finally I sit back down. I try to wipe the blood off me but I'm sticky with it. I suppose it will make good camouflage. I don't get into my sleeping bag because I'm hot and covered in blood. "Catnip?" I'm relieved by the by the use of my nickname.

"Yeah?"

"Did you cry for your father?" I breathe in slowly and Gale says, "I remember in the Justice Building. I was crying, the kids were crying, your mother was crying but you and my mother were like stone."

I think about that time, days after they died, the horror and the sadness still hurt like an open wound. "No," I say, "I didn't cry."

"How?" he asks. "I need the fantasies and daydreams to keep going; I need to believe that things are going to suddenly change to get out of bed. I have to believe that I can keep them out of the mines even though everyone knows that if you come from the Seam you're going down the mines. It doesn't matter how smart Rory is or how hard I try… we'll end up in the mines. The teaching course I always say Rory will take costs fifty-five silver coins and I've never had that much in my life. It's just that if I accept that then why should I do anything else? But you always see things the way they are and I don't know how you can be so honest with yourself and still face it all." Maybe I'm silent for too long because he says, "Catnip?"

"After your father died you had to start snaring things, you had to help your mother with the kids and help her with her pregnancy. You and your mother were a team. When my father died my mother just stopped. She barely moved. She didn't help me. I had to do everything. I had to make sure Prim was washed, dressed and fed. I had to make sure she was at school and had done her work. I was the only one working to keep us out of the children's home. I lost both my parents that day. I was eleven and I was suddenly the mother of a seven-year-old and the nursemaid of a woman who was barely conscious. For a whole year she wasn't there. If I grieved or daydreamed we would have ended up in the children's home. And after a year, when she started acting like a mother again, I didn't need her help and I didn't trust her help because she'd already failed us once. And by then I was too tired to grieve." He reaches to take my hand and I let him. He squeezes me to give me comfort but it doesn't work. I don't feel any better. I miss my sister, I miss the kids. I miss home. But Gale is a comfort just by being Gale. Having him close is the only thing that makes any of this bearable.

I take another breath and say. "My father wouldn't be upset that I didn't cry because I kept his wife from starving to death and I kept his children in their house. And maybe I am drab, angry, sullen but I don't care because Prim has plump cheeks and does well at school. I've been a mother since I was eleven and she's doing fine so I don't care if the popular merchant girls — who have always had enough to eat, and had fresh cakes on their birthdays and only ever had to worry about themselves — like me."

And that's the truth. I've been a mother since I was eleven and I'm exhausted by it. But if she's okay it doesn't matter. It's easy to see why people like Prim more than me. She's easier to like because she's not always focused on something else. She laughs more easily than me, plays with the other children and sings. My voice is better but she actually uses hers. She's sweet in a way I've forgotten to be. And her seriousness only comes in spurts. And I wonder how she would do here. I know she wouldn't survive but I wonder — if she'd made it out of the Cornucopia — how long it would have taken for the arena to break her spirit, to take her laughter away. The only reason this place hasn't broken me is because I didn't have much innocence left when I entered.

We're silent for long minutes, both thinking out own thoughts. The arena doesn't seem like a nice place any more. That first night it had seemed okay here. I'd thought we could just kill everything, survive and go home. But I don't feel like we'll ever really leave. Nothing will ever be the same as it was before the arena.

Gale says, "If you get out of here, if you're the one who survives, you have to forgive your mother." He rubs his thumb over the back of my hand. "Not for her, she let you down, but for you. All that anger is toxic. If you forgave her and let her help you you'd have time to daydream."

"If I survive I'm going to buy a store: laundry, darning and apothecary. Rory will keep the books, your mother and mine will handle the business, Prim will help my mother, maybe Posey will learn to sew and Vick will provide the entertainment. We only have the money and the nice house when the victor is alive but the leases on those places last one hundred and fifty years. They have apartments over them. It will take care of our families. And, as victors are excused from school or work, I'm going to spend all of my time snaring things and hanging around Greasy Sae's. I'll spend time with our friends and not worry about everything all the time."

"That's now my plan too," he says and I chuckle. "Promise me you'll forgive her."

I sigh, "I promise." I look down at the water, glinting in the fake starlight. "Gale?"

"Yeah?"

"Why are you so against about mines? There aren't that many cave ins. It's not that dangerous. It's not like you're a snob." It's the last night we'll ever be together and I've always wondered why he was so adamant that he wasn't going down the shaft. It's not a question for the audience; it's not designed to keep the Capitol from inflicting mutts on us: I've always wanted to know.

"There's nothing bad about having a job that lets you feed your family. The country needs coal. And I'm not afraid of it… there is a monster in the mines and it doesn't eat little girls it eats fathers. They never recovered their bodies. It's too dangerous to go near cave ins. I don't think they should have tried to get to their bodies because other people might have gotten killed. But… We'd be working in their grave. And I don't want to work in their grave."

"This is why I don't spend time imagining things. I don't dwell on that."

He exhales slowly, "We should sleep. We're splitting up in the morning. Not going to be as safe to sleep after that."

"I can't sleep," I say, "we're splitting up in the morning."

"I'm sorry about Peeta," he says.

That confuses me. "What?"

"Tonight is the last night I'll ever speak to you. I'm sorry that I didn't tell you about Peeta."

"Why didn't you tell me? What did you think I would say? Did you think I'd be upset or mean? Please tell me you didn't think I harbored an affection for you."

"That's a very old fashioned phrase." He shakes his head and says, "No, I never thought that. When Mom was pregnant with Posey, after Dad died, she told me that she was so pleased that she had three nice boys because the comfort of a miner is a loving wife and good children to come home to. I was twelve but I knew that I was never going to have or want a wife." He looks away from me, down to the water. "She was a pregnant widow so I didn't tell her that. And the longer I went without telling her, the harder it was to tell her."

None of that answers my question. "But why not tell me?" I ask softly.

"Because you're a terrible liar," he says looking up and smiling at me but it isn't a happy smile. "You could fake it on TV with Caesar but my mother knows your face. And she always says something to you about, 'When are you and Gale going to grow up and go for a walk?' You laugh and just say, 'Gale and I are just friends.' She laughs and shakes her head, thinking that someday we'll go for a walk and then get married and have children. But if you knew and tried to tell her that we're just friends she would know that there was something you weren't telling her."

I think about that, "Yeah, that's true. But I would have liked to have known you were happy. I would have liked to have gotten to know Peeta."

"I'm sorry," he says.

"We'll never see each other again after tomorrow. You don't need to apologize to me for anything."

He squeezes my hand, "Try to get some sleep, Catnip. You'll need it later."

I pull off the night vision glasses and hand them to him, "Keep watch."

He nods but says, "Tomorrow you should take these. We only have one pair."

"I'm better at going through the trees than you. You should have this advantage."

"No, you're right: you're better at going through the trees than me. I could break one of the branches so easily. You have a better chance of getting home than me and you need every advantage you can get. This water changes the arena and the Odds are your favor, not mine."

A parachute floats down and lands in my lap. I open it and see that it's another pair of glasses. "Haymitch thinks we should split up too," I say. I put them on and say, "Wake me up in a couple of hours?"

"Yeah," he keeps a hold of my hand.

We trade off throughout the night, sleeping only in spurts. When it gets light I feel more tired than I did last night. We eat breakfast together and Gale says, "You're caked in blood."

I shrug too tired and sad to care, "Camouflage." I untie Rue from the tree, leaving her in the branch but making it easier for the hovercraft to pick her up.

After we pack up Gale takes both my hands and speaks in a high pitched, girly version of the Capitol accent, "Katniss Everdeen, may the Odds," he pauses and I join him to say, "be ever in your favor!"

We both laugh and I say, "I hope you're the one who survives. Effie is going to be really angry that we do a great impression of her."

"Yes, now that you said it: before she might have thought it was someone else."

I laugh again, "Maybe." I lean between our branches, balancing carefully to hug him. "Try to stay safe."

"Kill everything that moves," he replies. He kisses my temple and then gently removes himself slowly. "Go, before I start crying and you shout at me for wasting the water and salt."

I nod and stand. "Be careful," I say and I don't wait to hear his response. I move as fast I can through the trees. I head toward the Cornucopia while Gale goes toward the forest again.

It's a slow day, I move fast but I see no one. I talk to no one; I don't pause except to take small sips of water. It's late in the afternoon when the cannon goes off. That forces me to stop, to sit down. "Please," I whisper, "please don't be Gale."

After that I'm slower, moving more methodically, and I'm relieved when it becomes dark because it gives me the excuse to sit. I think of us, back when we first started to spend time together. He was too fanciful, talked too much about possibilities that didn't exist. I was so eager to learn his skills but I think, really, he'd been eager for a friend. He was a little boy with even more mouths to feed than me and I think, remembering how chatty he was, how desperate for conversation, that he was very lonely.

I wait for the anthem, and when it's Thresh I feel so relieved that I actually feel ashamed. I sleep well, too well, anyone could have come and killed me but I'm exhausted.

The next morning I wake up feeling better. Gale's alive and the sun is up. And, after eating a small breakfast, I get back on track. It's still early in the morning when I get to the Cornucopia. There are two tributes sitting on the structure. They're extremely thin and they're covered in sunburn that's blistered and peeled. They must have gotten stranded by the rain out there with no shade and they hadn't been given many, if any, gifts. It almost seems kind that, when I get as close as the trees will allow, I shoot them dead as fast as I can.

One slips off the side of the Cornucopia but the other falls flat on its back and stays there. I breathe slowly, "Three left," I whisper as the cannon goes off twice.

I feel exposed being so close to the open space. From here I can smell the water. I've been staying up high in trees and the trees close to the Cornucopia are lower. The water reeks of dead things and excrement. There aren't fish anymore except ones that float around in the stagnant lake. I gag a few times before managing to climb into higher trees and away from the smell. I work my way back into the forest. It feels safer when I'm surrounded by the trees and I wonder if Gale is worried about me the same way I was worried about him yesterday. When darkness finally falls I eat a small dinner and wait for the anthem. When they finally show the fallen tributes I see them as they were in the Training Center. They hadn't been recognizable by the time I shot them.

That night I don't sleep well. I've never been so lonely in my life because I've never slept alone. I miss the people I love and wish I had taken one last look at Gale's token. I don't cry. A parachute floats down to me and I catch it from the air. Inside I find a bottle of milk and when I drink it I realize it's goat milk. It tastes like home and I drink it all. It doesn't make me less homesick or less lonely but it lulls me into sleeping for a few hours.

When I wake up the water is gone. The ground is nothing but a sludge and, as badly as I want to go down, I know that I'll get sucked into the mud that be at least knee deep. I stay in the trees, looking for any sign of other people.

The next week goes the same way. Every day I search for people but instead I just see nothing. I hear a cannon on the ninth day and push down any panic or fear I feel and instead I keep moving. After the Anthem I see the six from 5's picture. There are four of us left and I don't know if it will be me or Gale going home.

I think any animals that were on the ground are dead because I only ever see birds now. There aren't many birds left. There's no food anywhere anymore. Only the heartiest plants have survived and most of them aren't edible. When I'm finally able to go down to the ground everything still smells but it's nice to walk on solid land. Days go by and I see no one, I climb back into the trees to sleep.

Gifts are few and far between; I suppose Haymitch has to split his efforts now. I shoot a couple of birds and start a fire to cook them. The smell brings someone to me. After all of the warnings Haymitch gave us on fire I never thought it would flush out tributes. It's gaunt and wide eyed and barely looks human, mad with hunger or something else. It slow, lumbering and uncoordinated, I shoot it and it falls like a stone.

Its bag has nothing in it except for a knife it wasn't holding. Maybe it was too hungry to even think about a weapon. I'm pleased Haymitch was able to get us gifts because otherwise Gale and I would be just as bad. I eat the hearts of the birds before putting them into containers. I'm hungry but there's so little food so I need to wait and ration it.

Chapter Text

Three days later the cannon goes off and I know that there are only two tributes and me left in here I wonder if one of those tributes is Gale. That night is cloudy; the Gamesmakers did it on purpose so I don't know if he's alive. This time I'm too exhausted to worry and I think that — if I get out alive — I'll let myself grieve this time. I don't let myself break down. There's no point in crying because he might still be alive. But I think of him as a little, companionable boy who helped me feed my family and made me laugh. I miss him.

I search continually for tracks. I behave as a hunter looking for prey but I see no signs and I wonder if they're up in the trees or down on the ground. I wonder if they're tracking me. If they survived this long it must be pretty good. Maybe they were getting the gifts Gale and I weren't getting. It doesn't matter. One way or another it's Gale or me going home. It's another eight days before the cannon goes off.

Gale is dead. I wonder if it was this cannon or the last that marked his death. I sit on the ground and breathe slowly. I'm the one going home and it hurts. My best friend is dead. Gale is gone and when I go home I'm going to hold his siblings close and try to take care of them. None of them will ever go down the mines. I'm going to kill whatever tribute killed their brother and go home.

I'm almost out of water so I head to the lake by the Cornucopia. It's not a long walk but I move slowly. It's hot and I want to cry but I'm so tired that what I really want to do is sleep. The water still smells but with an iodine treatment it's drinkable. It's thick and disgusting on my tongue, but drinkable none the less. I kneel by the water and fill my bottles. I take out my iodine tablets and go to shake one into my hand but realize it's empty. "Haymitch," I say, "please, I need-"

"She doesn't need anything," says a voice I know.

I turn slowly and say, "No. No, we can't be the last two. No. I thought you were dead."

Gale sinks down next to me. He's got dried mud up to his thighs and looks as tired as I feel. He came down from the trees long before me. He takes his iodine tablets out of his bag and adds them to my bottles. He pulls a full bottle of water from his bag and hands it to me before wrapping an arm around my shoulder. "Of course you did because neither of us ever allowed ourselves to imagine it could come to this. Until I killed the last one I didn't think about it either. It wasn't until it was dead on the ground that I realized what I'd done. I was adding up deaths and I realized my mistake. It had the upper hand for a moment. I should have let it keep it."

"I thought the Careers would have killed us," I say softly, staring at him. I have never gone so long without seeing my best friend. "They always seemed unstoppable on the TV."

"We're better than anyone 12 has had in a long time. And people liked us. We got gifts; they didn't. It made a difference. The ones who were left looked dead already."

I drink some of the water before handing the bottle back to Gale. "You've lost weight."

"Yeah, I've been running low on supplies but I didn't want Haymitch to send me anything just in case one of us needed something bigger. I missed you."

"I missed you too." I pull out the containers with a little bit of bird left in it and a pack of crackers. "Eat this."

"Catnip," he says lowly.

"No, don't, just eat."

I notice that he's favoring the arm not wrapped around me and I get up and move around him, "Catnip," he says again as I pull the shirt off him. The wound on his shoulder has rough edges and is bleeding a lot. I gag and he says, "Please don't vomit on me." I swallow a few times. I reach into my bag for the first aid kit and start to clean it up. "Catnip," he repeats and now he seems irritated.

"What?"

"We're the only two in here."

"I know."

"Only one of us can leave here. Why are you patching me up?"

"Because we're both alive now," I don't look away from his wound.

"If you leave it I might bleed to death and save us from a hard decision."

I say nothing just use the tape and bandages to the best of my abilities. I sit next to him and say, "Just eat, okay? Please, Gale, let me think."

He eats the bird and says, "There's no good choice, Catnip, and you know it. What can we do? It's taboo to kill someone from your own district. Two kids from the Seam can't kill each other. And us? The whole district knew us long before the reaping because we're inseparable and trade with everyone. If one of us kills the other we can't go home. We'll be the most loathed person in the district. I would never be able to hug Prim; you could never tell Vick off for swearing in the street. We cannot kill each other but we have to kill each other to get out of here so what can we do? We can't live here. They've never ended a Games using mutts, the Gamesmakers only use them to speed things up, but eventually they'll have to do something to finish this. So what are we going to do?"

"I don't know. Just eat for right now." I sip the water slowly.

"You're not as bloody as the last time I saw you," he says. He licks his fingers as he eats.

"It flaked off," I shrug. He eats and I drink the water. "Did you kill the ten from 11?" He shakes his head, "Good, Rue liked Thresh." He nods.

"We killed all but two of the tributes who didn't die in the Cornucopia."

"Please, don't count them," I say. "I don't want to know."

He rests his head on my shoulder, "I really missed you."

"I haven't gone that long without talking to you since I was eleven," I say.

"I can't sleep by myself. I've never had to. It's always been me and Rory or you and me."

I look for a camera and say, "Peeta, that's not what it sounds like."

Gale laughs, "Peeta is not threatened by you. Only Aja Dale is threatened by you." I laugh but the laugh turns desperate and I start to cry. Gale wraps his arm around me, "You're wasting moisture."

"It doesn't matter now. I'm leaving the arena soon one way or the other. If I'm dead I'm not thirsty and if I'm alive I'm sure they give the victor a glass of water." He puts the food aside to wrap both his arms around me. I feel his tears falling on my hair and he rocks us both gently. "This wasn't the plan."

"No, well, the plan was to find water away from the Cornucopia — which we never did — and kill everything that moved and we killed thirteen: only half the plan worked even before you and I ended up here."

"Thirteen?" I repeat.

He nods, "We didn't kill the six in the Cornucopia, the one during the rain, Thresh or Rue. So it's thirteen. Soon, one of us will make it fourteen." He doesn't sound sad, just tired.

"I miss our old lives. All we had to worry about was whether we would have dinner for the kids."

He kisses the top of my head. "One of us is going home. One of us will be hugging them soon."

I pull myself together, wiping my face dry and say, "We need a new plan."

"I have a plan but it's a really terrible plan," he says.

I wait for him to go on and when he's silent I pull back. He's still crying and I say, "What is it?"

"I saw nightlock. I remember, years ago, when you were teaching me plants and I almost ate some. You slapped them out of my hand and screamed at me. That was the first time you saved my life and I was twelve years old."

"So, we're going to kill ourselves? That's the plan?"

"No, we'll feed them to each other. We can't kill ourselves: that's cheating. I've been watching the hovercrafts. It takes about four minutes for them to go anywhere in the arena. I'm sure they'll be able to save one of us. And it will count. We did it to each other and it's an act of violence. And it's in the spirit of the Games: the Odds will decide our fate. It is total submission to the Games and that's the whole point. No one back home can fault us for this. I know it's a bad plan but can you think of a better one?"

I think and shake my head, "Where did you see them?"

"Pretty far into the forest. Let's just sit here and eat. I hate having sweet things on an empty stomach."

It makes me laugh, "That's sick."

"You're laughing," he speaks without a laugh in his voice which makes me laugh harder. He smiles at me and goes back to eating. "If you get home you've got to talk to Darius." I roll my eyes. "He's the only person who makes you laugh other than me."

"If you get home he's going to find a reason to have you whipped in the square."

He shakes his head, "Darius is honorable; he would never search for a reason to punish me for telling the truth."

We eat the last of our supplies. He still has a tiny square of Prim's cheese. We split it and I say, "Are you ready?"

"As I'll ever be," he nods.

We take a couple of bottles of water, if it's really a far way we might need a drink. But we leave most of the bottles on the shore. They're nothing but weight now. He takes my hand as we walk. We're silent as we walk and I hear him sniff and realize he's crying again. I drop his hand and instead wrap my arm around his waist. "It'll all be over soon," I promise. And after another mile or so I say, "Stop crying, the kids are watching. Do you want them to have this as their last memory of you?" He pauses and wipes his face.

"Thanks," he says. He leads me toward what I think is the west and after two more hours we stop at a bush of nightlock. We start picking a handful. Something has been over the bush and I wonder if the animal died or if it could somehow resist the poison.

He takes a few of the berries he picked and puts them in my hand. "What are you doing?" I ask.

"They look juicy and I want them."

I laugh, "That is so wrong."

"It's the last chance I'll ever have to make you laugh." He gives me a sad smile and says, "I love you. You know that, right?"

I nod and say, "I love you too."

"I know," he says. He lifts his handful of berries to my mouth. "On three?"

I nod and say, "One, two, three." He forces the berries into my mouth as I do the same to him.

The shakes start almost instantly. I collapse to my side in the dirt. And as I feel foam start to force its way up my throat and out of my mouth I think, distantly, that dying doesn't hurt as much as I expected it too. Just before I pass out I feel Gale's hand slide into my own and I give it one last squeeze. Regardless of what happens next I know I will never hold his hand again.

Chapter Text

Waking up hurts more than dying. It slowly registers in my head that Gale — my best friend — is dead. I killed him. I start to cry. Everything hurts but I feel like I deserve it. A woman walks in wearing a medical uniform and I say, "It should have been Gale. He's got so many more people; it should have been Gale. I killed my best friend."

She comes toward me slowly but I cringe back in the bed and hope she won't touch me. She stands at the end of the bed and gives me what I think is supposed to be a comforting smile. I want to punch her teeth in. I saw a Peacekeeper do it once. It looked painful. "He said the same thing when he woke up."

I struggle to stand and she says, "Don't."

"Come near me and I will break your nose," I warn her.

She puts her hands out, "I'm going to bring you. Just don't try to get up." She starts to move my bed. "He's been restrained because he was trying to come in here when we were still working on you."

"Why keep working on me? You had him back. There's only supposed to be one victor." She starts pushing me through the halls.

"There was a vote on TV and everyone said that if you and Gale were the last two standing there should be a rule change to have two victors."

"When was that?" I ask.

She thinks and says, "Three weeks ago now."

Three weeks, that means that when Gale and I were force feeding each other poison they had already decided to let us both live. I hear Gale long before we get to him. He's roaring threats about seeing me. When we move into his room I see that he's alone and is fighting against the straps holding him to the bed. "I'm here, Gale, stop screaming." He sits up as much as the restraints will allow him. "Can you untie him now?" I ask the woman and she puts my bed next to his.

She nods but says, "You must rest." She unlocks the buckles and his hand instantly seeks mine. "Sleep now. We'll be in the Capitol in an hour," she says. She's trying to sound comforting.

She leaves and Gale is instantly on his feet. He's shaky and actually collapses on me. "Ow," I say.

"Sorry, I thought I could stand up longer."

I move over in the little bed so we can be more comfortable. "We're alive."

"We're alive," he agrees as he curls around me.

"I want to sleep for a week," I say.

"I want to hug all the kids."

"I hope they haven't lost as much weight as us."

"We had so many gifts and we still lost weight."

"Your ribs are really digging into me," he budges off of me a little. "The ones I killed at the end were just skin and bones."

"There wasn't any food. If you didn't get a gift you didn't eat," he says.

"Did Haymitch send you a bottle of milk?"

"The second night, when I really felt alone," he says.

"Me too," I say. We fall silent and after a few minutes he breathes slowly and deeply and I let the sound lull me to sleep.

Haymitch is the person who wakes us. It's weird, I don't think I've ever seen him smiling before. But he looks worried. He hugs us tightly. And it hits me: he's very nearly sober.

He doesn't say much of anything as he brings us to our stylists. Cinna hugs me tightly and this time they don't try to bring us into separate rooms. The prep teams aren't there it's just us. He pins a dress on to me and starts bringing it in. It's still a sparking red dress that looks like fire but it doesn't look wonderful.

He accentuates how thin I am, making my ribs stand out, and actually makes my finger nails look dirty. We were bathed by someone before we woke on the hovercraft but he undoes that with makeup. He makes my face look gaunt and I see that Portia is making Gale's eyes look sunken. His pants are tight and show that his bones are more prominent than his muscles. She gives him the same jacket he wore to the interviews but she doesn't take it in; the bagginess underscores how much weight he lost.

Cinna takes a lot of time on my hair, a high braid with wisps of hair falling around face. He weaves gold wires and red, orange, pink and yellow beads into the braid. He glues sparkly crystals on to the tips of the wisps. It's heavy and it makes it hard to hold my head up. "It's only for a little while," Cinna promises. Portia does the same to Gale. He looks awful but she shaves his face and puts glitter in his hair.

I don't understand why they're making us look worse instead of better but I don't question them. They know what they're doing. They barely speak as they work fast but look so happy that we're here.

Haymitch comes and says, "Would you like a breath of actual outside air?"

We nod and Cinna and Portia step back to look at their work. "Yeah, I think we're done," says Portia. She puts Gale's shoes on for him. They're the ones that he wore to the interviews that he loved while Cinna slides hunting boots onto my feet. They make my feet look like they are engulfed in flames.

"Thank you for not making me wear heals," I say.

Cinna kisses my forehead, "Be incredible." I nod and he hugs me again.

Haymitch leads us upstairs to the roof and then he says, "You listen to me right now." We nod. "You go out there and you don't act happy; you don't act okay. You act grateful and broken. Don't act energetic, or bubbly but keep saying how grateful you are." He pumps us full of what he calls key points and phraseologies. Finally he says, "Katniss, Gale told you to think of the children starving before your first interview. This time think of them being murdered, brutally, if the people with power don't believe this act. Questions?"

"Why are we dressed like this?" Gale asks.

"You look like you have two young stylists who have done their best with too little time and bad subjects. They want you to look pathetic. I told you: trust your stylists to do their best by you. If Caesar asks that's what you tell him: they did their best with how little time they had but promised you better looks tomorrow." He checks his watch, "Remember what I've said." We nod. "It's time." He brings us downstairs to backstage. Effie is there and she hugs me too tightly. I still hurt everywhere. The small gasp of pain I give makes her look shocked. She starts to apologize but Haymitch cuts her off promising, "Tomorrow we go home."

Music starts and they show a movie of the Games. We watch it back stage. It starts with the clock counting down at the Cornucopia but cuts to me volunteering and Gale pulling Prim off me and Gale volunteering for Peeta and kissing him. Then it cuts back to the clock hitting zero and it shows us running instead of the bloodbath. Over the action they keep repeating clips of Gale's words: "an act of violence" "I love you" "spirit of the Games" "best friend" "the Odds will decide our fate" and "total submission." It shows our kills in order. It shows us being fast, as merciful as possible, while showing clips of the brutal, drawn out violence in the Cornucopia.

It shows us laughing and trying to keep our morale up. It shows us eating with Rue and trying to get her to gain weight then shows the other tributes starving to death. It shows us talking about blown kisses and spelling bees. It highlights the quiet misery and our slow but continual weight loss. It shows us killing tributes quickly and cleanly. It shows the gradual decline of our health and spirits, the loneliness of our separation and the way we dispatched the other tributes.

Gale's words repeat faster, more insistently, "an act of violence" "I love you" "spirit of the Games" "best friend" "the Odds will decide our fate" "total submission." It shows the kills we made on our own; Gale used his wire to decapitate the ones he did without me. His face is stone but he always apologizes before going through their things. It shows the horror we felt when we met again by the lake. It shows us crying and me patching his arm. It ends with us force feeding each other the berries and the way Gale reaches to hold my hand as we both pass out. And very quietly it repeats, "total submission," as it fades to black. There is thunderous applause at the end.

The crowd roars as Caesar introduces us as the Boy and Girl on Fire and Haymitch gently nudges us onto the stage. We don't twirl, we give weak smiles to the crowd. We sit heavily and I wince as I cross my ankles and sit like a lady the way Effie taught me. Caesar says exactly what Haymitch said he would. "Katniss, you're among friends. Sit comfortably." I slowly tuck my feet up onto the couch as Gale stretches his legs out and leans back, placing an arm along the back of the couch behind me. "You look terrible," he says.

Gale gives a tired laugh, "You should have seen us before Cinna and Portia did their best. There are only so many wonders they could work."

Caesar says, "I think I'm not alone when I say that I have never seen a Hunger Games that was so grueling for the victor."

I nod but say, "But there's never been two victors so it's only fair that it was more grueling. There has to be some balance."

"You must both be so happy," says Caesar.

Gale and I exchange a look and Gale finally says, "I think it's too new to be happy. I'm so exhausted. We're both so grateful to all of you; everyone who voted, and sent us gifts, the Gamesmakers who agreed to the rule change and President Snow: I don't know if he had anything to do with the change but I'm sure he could have overruled it. We're just so relieved to be out of the arena. It was incredibly kind of you to help us and give us your support. We needed it so badly. It's completely because of you that we're here. My best friend and I are going home. Thank you all so much."

He sounds grateful but not happy, exhausted. "I'm so happy for you both," says Caesar with a wide smile. I give him the smile Haymitch had called perfect when he'd coached me in what he called behaving bemused, tragic and lost. "So what have you learned from your Games?"

It's a standard question. We've watched people answer it our whole lives. And this is one Haymitch has fed us the answer to. Gale takes a deep breath and looks at me, I give him a nod and he speaks first. "Know your place," he says. "I always wished I was born here. You always have enough food, power, hot water. Then I came here and it was more beautiful and better than I had ever imagined. But when I was in the arena I didn't wish I was here for even a minute. I wanted to be home. Every minute I wanted to be in Peeta's bakery or in the market or in the meadow. It's beautiful here and you've all been so kind to us. Your food is amazing and you are all so lucky to live here but I just want to go home because that's where I belong." He smiles gently at Caesar. "It's not that I don't like being here with you, Caesar, you're so nice and welcoming. It's just…"

He trails off and Caesar says, "You'd rather be defending Vick from a snake in the outhouse."

The audience laughs and Gale gives him the ghost of a smile, "Exactly."

Caesar looks past him to me and says, "What did you learn, Katniss?"

I pause, like I'm thinking, "I think it's more a case of what confuses me."

"And what's that?" Caesar asks gently.

"In school you learn about the Dark Days, the events and the justifications, the war. And I always thought I understood it, I did well on the test. But in the arena… Gale and I had to turn off our minds off because we couldn't kill people with parents, siblings, friends. I assume the people back then did it too. But I don't understand how they could do it for years. No matter what they were fighting about how could they do that?" I let myself trail off again. Then I say, "I don't think I'm ever going to sleep well again. No matter what I tell myself, Gale and I killed people. I'm never going to forget that. The Dark Days went on for years, Caesar, after peace was restored how did any of the survivors get back to their lives?"

"I don't know, Katniss," Caesar speaks softly like I'm an injured animal that might suddenly get violent. "I don't think anyone can understand that. But you know what?"

"What?" My neck hurts from holding up my head but I let myself slouch.

"In only a few short days you'll be hugging your kids."

I smile vaguely, "Yes, there is that." I agree.

Caesar waits for me to go on and when he realizes I'm not going to say anything else he says, "At fifty-nine days you had one of the longest Games ever. It's not the least bit surprising that you're so tired."

"It wasn't fifty-nine days," Gale sounds confused.

People laugh, like it's cute that Gale and I don't know how long we were there. "Ah, well," says Caesar like he's about to let us in on a secret, "The days in the arena were thirty-one hours."

Not even the days could be trusted. Gale's fingers along the back of the couch start to twitch and I know he's furious. I reach my left hand over my right shoulder and take his hand in mine. It makes it look like I'm hugging myself and seeking comfort from Gale but really I'm just reminding him of our situation. He squeezes my fingers not tightly enough to hurt.

I yawn and say, "Sorry."

"Don't apologize for anything, Katniss. You poor things. You were dead for eight minute, Katniss. Gale, you were dead for five."

"We were dead?" Gale repeats. "Dead?"

"Oh yes, not pulse, no breathing. You were very dead. We watched it all."

"Eight minutes? You can be dead for eight minutes?" I ask.

Caesar nods, "The medical staff was very impressive. Y'know, they're saying that as well as having the most grueling Games, you have also embodied the game more than any other victor before you."

"We just gave in," says Gale, "in the end the only option was to give in to the Odds and put our faith in the Games."

The crowd roars at his answer. Caesar looks at us like we're amazing. "As well as being the bravest and strongest victors we have ever had you have made quite splash in the fashion world."

I give a broken, disbelieving laugh, "Us? Really?"

"Unless Portia and Cinna are dressing us we aren't at all fashionable," says Gale.

Caesar gestures to his hair which is a mix of reds and oranges, "A lot of it is fire themed but there's also a lot of this." He's wearing a bright red shirt that clashes with his ridiculous hair. It has billowing sleeves and he pushes one up to reveal his inner arm. Just below his elbow is a tattoo of my pin. Connected to the pin is a tattooed chain that runs to his wrist where Gale's watch case is replicated in perfect detail. The whole thing is raised from his skin and textured like they're real. I can't imagine doing that to myself, changing myself so much and in such an irreversible way. It must have cost him a fortune.

I force a smile and say, "Beautiful and so… touching. Thank you, Caesar."

"Your song almost became popular but it's too depressing," I say nothing just keep smiling. "Also, we tried wild dog but it's very stringy and has quite a pungent flavor."

Gale shrugs, "Learn your place, Caesar. You're from the Capitol; you didn't grow up with it. Katniss and I tried coffee when we were here and neither of us liked it. Wild dog tastes great to us. It tastes like regular meat."

"I can't get up in the morning without three cups of coffee!" Caesar jokes. He means at ten-thirty; that's morning in this city. I just keep my hand in Gale's.

There's only one last thing to do. Haymitch told us to say it so Gale speaks, it has nothing to do with the line of conversation but it doesn't matter because we both look dazed. "Caesar?"

"Yes, my dear boy?"

"We promised Rue we would give 11 a month of gifts. I know it hasn't been done before. But I don't think it's against the rules. Is it possible?"

Caesar smiles even more widely, "President Snow authorized it himself. He said that in reaching out in friendship to a little girl you truly honored your district. The gifts arrived moments after you poisoned yourselves. Would you like to see?" I sit up slightly and nod. On the screens around us we see people who look like Rue opening boxes of supplies. Some look happy; most look relieved. "President Snow was most impressed at your willingness to sacrifice your own district's wellbeing for theirs."

Gale's fingers tighten so badly around mine I feel like I might cry out in pain. But instead I say, "We made a promise. She would have done the same thing for us." I yawn again and say, "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize, Katniss," he says with a smile, "Ladies and gentlemen, our victors are clearly exhausted. Let's give them a round of applause and let them go to bed."

They start to roar again and Caesar gestures for us to leave the stage. This time we don't wave; we just leave had in hand. I let my head droop and Gale whispers, "How heavy is your hair?"

"Very," I say.

He squeezes my hand very gently. Haymitch ushers us back into the dressing room where Cinna begins instantly taking my hair apart. "I'm sorry," he says. "I didn't think it would be that bad."

"It's okay," I promise as he removes the wires. "It's just heavy; it doesn't hurt that much."

"It wasn't supposed to hurt at all," says Cinna sounding distressed over my discomfort.

I shrug, "Everything hurts." It stings when he removes the wires. My scalp aches. Portia removes Gale's makeup and brushes the glitter from his hair. She takes Gale fine clothes off and hands him simple, soft-looking sleep pants, a long sleeved grey shirt and a pair of slippers. Gale sighs as he changes and I see him wince as he moves. I wonder if he hurts as much as I do. I see how tightly he's holding himself. He's about to break so I say, "Cinna, can I just change? You can do my hair after dinner or in the morning. Please, Gale and I need a breath of fresh air."

Haymitch studies us and says, "Portia, will you keep Effie busy?" She nods. "Great, Cinna, redress Katniss and you can finish her hair on the roof."

I can't believe what he's saying. For a moment I think he doesn't understand why I need to get Gale onto the roof but the tense set of his shoulders says otherwise. Cinna strips the makeup off my face with a few swipes of a cloth. He unzips the dress and hands me similar clothes to what Gale is wearing. When I try to put on the pants my legs twinge with pain and I start to stumble. Cinna grabs my elbow and says, "I should have redressed you. Sorry, I wasn't thinking." He does finish dressing me.

"I'm okay," I assure him.

Portia says, "I'll go keep Effie company." She kisses Gale's temple. "See you at dinner."

Cinna picks up his tweezers, combs and the bowl he's been dropping the wires and beads into. Haymitch is silent as we go up to the roof. Gale wraps his arms around himself and stares out at the city. "Once we go back downstairs you can't say a bad thing until we're home and you're out in the forest. They didn't bug our train on the way here; 12 doesn't win and there's no point in listening to people who'll be dead soon. The train home will have microphones. And the Victors' Village is most certainly under surveillance. So, if you need to scream, do it now." Gale looks to Cinna. "Cinna is on your side."

The whole city sparkles in front of us and Gale is still holding himself tightly. He leans heavily against the building. Maybe he doesn't trust his legs. I don't really trust mine. "I'm sorry, Cinna, but I want to burn your city to the ground. They voted. They voted on whether or not we would live. And after deciding that they would let us live — after adding that new fun twist to the horror that makes up 'The Pageant of Death' — they let us kill each other. We were dead, actually dead, and they enjoyed it. They loved watching us kill each other. And now they're eating dog? We made it fashionable? It's not even legally meat. It's one of the few things we have that they don't take. They take everything and now they're taking that too. How many dogs did they kill before they decided they didn't like it? How many did they take that could have been eaten by people in the districts? We can't be the only two people who go under the fence and get food."

Haymitch nods, "What else?"

"Thirty-one hour days," says Gale. "The water wasn't right. Portia shaved off a day's beard. Katniss never got her monthly. They put something in the water. Maybe it was in the air. Nothing was real there. Nothing was real except the kids we killed." I'm too tired to care that Gale is talking about my body. The whole country has watched my in my underwear for weeks.

"Are you done?"

"I can go for hours," says Gale but he says, "Yes, I'm done."

Cinna moves around me and goes back to taking down my hair. "I know you don't care about the clothes. But the clothes are important. They take weeks and weeks of work. Then the moment you see the tributes you'll be dressing you start changing the clothes, making sure they'll fit. You don't sleep for days. Do you really think anyone in this city would want that job? To be on a prep team, yes, that's fun. But to be a stylist? That's too much work. We're all from 8."

Gale speaks slowly, "No, they always say you're from the Capitol."

"They don't want anyone to think there is a way out of the districts. We get living space and food. The money is pitiful by Capitol standards but amazing in district terms. Some stylists forget where they're from. They spend it on tattoos and implants. I send it home. I would love one of the gold, glittering swirling tattoos but it would cost five month of my wages and my sister has three children. You die in the clothes factories. You inhale the dyes. Nightlock makes beautiful dye, an amazing purple. If you get it in a cut you die within minutes. They never use gloves in the factory. It's not worth it to give workers gloves. Gloves cost money but if one dies you just replace them. We learn clothes in school. If you're good enough you can audition for the Gamesmakers. And then you are part of the system but you just try to help your tributes. My sister's children won't starve; Portia's father was able to leave the factories."

I turn to look at him. His teeth aren't as good as the people's here. Back home older people in the Seam don't have teeth. Teeth fallout from being hungry and they get patchy colors from missing some vitamin that too little food cannot supply. Even people who gain weight later never get good teeth. His teeth have that patchy look.

He gives me a tired smile and says, "Don't move so fast, Katniss, the diamonds in your hair are worth more to the Capitol than I am. I don't want to lose any." He removes the little crystals from the tips of my hair and then he says, "There, done, would you like me to re-braid it or leave it loose?"

"My scalp hurts."

He nods, "Let's leave it then." Looking to Gale he says, "If you want to burn it down I can get my hands on some matches. But they'll kill your family and Peeta and my sister's kids. So maybe we should wait until they aren't watching us so closely."

"Will we some day?" Gale sounds bitter, knowing the answer.

"Oh, yes," says Cinna without a joke in his voice. "Some day, when the time is right. But until then keep your heads down. Look broken, look earnest. Be unthreatening."

"We are unthreatening," I say.

Haymitch shakes his head. He's smiling but it's not a happy smile. It's a vicious smile, calculating and half mad, "You helped a little girl, you killed their kids as mercifully as you could, you sent a different district food, you returned tokens and you hated every minute of violence. You didn't win; you survived. 1, 2 and 4 hate you. Everyone else adores you for very different reasons than the people here do. You are a threat to the Capitol but you have to act oblivious to that." I feel exhausted and I don't care. I'll act oblivious. I'll act as damaged as they want. I just want to go home. "That dog didn't get through the fence. After you said that they interviewed Cray on TV. He said he shot it. It was a very heroic story. He never has his gun on him, just his baton. And it's so rare for one to get in."

He's silent for a few moments then says, "The hole in the fence is large enough for Darius to fit through. If he asks you for a walk when there are cameras you say yes. The Capitol will love a happy ending. Your lives are no longer your own. Tomorrow, when he crowns you, you need to hug the president. Act like a grateful little girl." I nod and he says, "Let's go. I need a drink."

"Are you sober?" asks Gale.

Haymitch nods and says, "I'm two shots into my day. And tonight I'm going to let myself get so drunk I pass out. I've been almost sober for fifty-nine days."

"Thank you," I say.

"That first day in the arena I realized I had a good chance of actually being able to look a mother in the eyes. And it would be a mother from the Seam. It was worth staying sober for."

We head back downstairs, there is a Peacekeeper waiting on the twelfth floor and he says, "I need the diamonds," without any preamble.

Cinna holds out the bowl, "That's everything I used."

The man counts them, then nods and leaves. We head into the dining room. The amount of food on the table is shocking. I don't think it's more than there was in the days before the arena but after weeks of rationing it's over whelming. I sit and just look at the food. Haymitch reaches out and ladles a clear soup into the bowls in front of us and adds two slices of bread to the edge of the bowl, "You shouldn't start on the rich foods." He pours us each a glass of milk. It's goats milk again.

Effie is wittering about something but I just focus on keeping down the food. Haymitch is drinking a huge glass of brown alcohol. Gale holds my hand under the table. My fingers twitch, some aftereffect of the poison. Gale's leg jiggles and it's not from anxiety. I wonder if we'll ever be rid of the poison, how long it will take to heal. When we're done I cut Effie off, "May we go to bed?"

She looks horrified that I'm so rude. "Of course," says Haymitch.

"Good night," Gale says to the table and we get up, heading to my room.

In my bed Gale curls around me. My whole body aches and I wonder if Gale hurts as much as I do. "Can I leave the light on?" I ask.

He nods, "I'd rather you did."

We stay silent but it takes forever to fall asleep. I dream of nothing and I'm grateful.

Chapter Text

It's not Gale who wakes me but Haymitch. He stands by the door and says, "It's eight-thirty." I feel Gale moving next to me. "Come eat, then shower."

We follow him, not bothering to change. I feel hungry; I didn't yesterday. I eat something Haymitch calls a waffle. It's covered in butter, a sweet, dense syrup and powdered sugar. I share it with Gale. He shares his omelet with me. We both eat a bowl of fruit and there are thick drinks made of yogurt and fruit. Haymitch has a very small drink of liqueur and eats an omelet. "Today your prep teams and stylists will work you over for a couple of hours, get you camera-pretty, you will be crowned. Then Cinna and Portia will have an hour to change you into going away clothes. And then we will be on the train."

We both nod and as we finish eating we both get up to shower. The shower feels amazing as the water hits my sore muscles. But I start to feel dizzy so I wash myself quickly and get out. I wrap myself in a towel and sit down on the toilet, putting my head on my knees. I wait for it to pass. A knock comes at the door. "Yes?"

"Stop making yourself pretty; Cinna will do it for you," Gale calls.

"I can't get up," I call back.

Gale tries the door, finds it locked and then there's crash. I hear Effie, distantly saying something about the value of a statue. I turn my head and see Gale standing in the doorway. The doorknob is on the floor and he's holding a brass statuette of a man. "Are you okay?"

"I think I might pass out," I say.

Gale comes to me, puts the statuette in the sink and puts one arm around my waist and one under my legs. He tries to lift me then groans and stops. "That should have been so easy," he pants and sits down on the floor.

Haymitch comes in and lifts me easily, "Gale, get up. We're running late." He carries me out of the bathroom and says, "Don't worry about clothes. Cinna is going to strip you anyway." He carries me into the elevator, still wrapped in a towel, with Gale next to us. "It's B2, please." Gale hits the button and we start moving.

As we leave the elevator Haymitch almost runs into Caesar. The man smiles, "Hello, victors. Katniss, are you okay?"

"I collapsed in the bathroom," I say, "Gale had to break the door."

"Effie seems pretty upset with me," Gale nods. "The club I used to break the door handle was apparently a very expensive piece of art."

"Needs must," Caesar says cheerfully. "I must go; I'm doing the commentary on the coronation. I'll see you for your Victory Tour!" he sounds gleeful then he's gone.

Haymitch sighs and starts moving again. As we approach the prep room I hear Portia saying, "You say or do anything that upsets them and you're out."

Cinna says, "You're not important in this room. They're the only ones that matter. They're tired, they're distressed and they're in physical pain."

Gale opens the door and the talk stops. Portia turns with a smile then she sees me and it falls. "Katniss, what happened?"

"Collapsed in the bathroom," says Haymitch. Then he speaks to me, "I need to put you down. You weigh a lot less than you did before you went into the arena but I'm not as young as I was."

Cinna turns his styling chair and Haymitch sets me down carefully. "Thanks," I say.

He nods and says, "I'm going to medical to see if they know anything about survivors of nightlock poisoning. You can handle this?" he asked looking to our stylists.

"Yes," says Portia. "Go do what you have to do."

Cinna pours me a glass of something and says, "Drink this: it's grapefruit juice. It's sugar and it will help rehydrate you." I sip it slowly. "Rest back for me." He starts in on makeup. Venia starts to heat wax and Cinna says, "Get out."

"What?"

"I told you Katniss is in pain and you clearly weren't paying attention if you think you're going to wax any part of her. Get out." She looks shocked and puts everything down. Once she's gone he says, "Octavia, would you please shave Katniss' legs and armpits quite close? That will last until she gets off the train." She nods and he smiles at me.

"Thanks," I say.

"You don't have to thank me," he goes back to my makeup.

Flavius leans down, "Katniss, I want to leave your hair down, I don't know what the crowns look like and it will be easiest if it's loose. But I would have to cut several inches because of split ends. You'll still be able to braid it the way you did it in the arena. Is that okay?" He's never been nice to me before. He must have taken Cinna's words to heart. I nod and he says, "Are you sure? It will be significantly shorter. It will look different when you wear it down."

"I wear it braided every day," I say, "it's fine."

"Thank you," he says and, while I hear the scissors, I feel nothing.

Cinna is still working on my makeup, he's using something brown to make my shoulders and arms look tan. He moves back to my face as Octavia starts on my hands. My right hand begins to shake and Octavia squeezes it to hold me still. I gasp in pain and Cinna says, "Leave, Octavia." She gives me a sad smile and leaves. Cinna takes over my nails. Every time the shakes start he halts his work and gently strokes my fingers until it stops. I glance at Gale and see that Portia is the only person working on him. I wonder why his team was thrown out of the room. Portia says something softly to him that makes him smile.

Flavius says, "I need you to turn your head back. Unless you turned your head because something hurt."

"Sorry," I say moving my head back.

"Can we keep our clothes?" asks Gale. "Not the fancy things but the stuff we've been wearing upstairs."

"Absolutely," says Portia. "Your prep teams will pack everything while you're being crowned."

"Thank you," says Gale.

"Katniss, you have a lot of silk blouses, some are pink. I bet Posey will love playing dress up with them," says Cinna.

I smile, "I'm sure she will."

Cinna says, "These fake nails will hurt if you hit them on anything so be careful. I'll take them off before you get on the train." I nod. I start to drift off and Cinna says, "Sleep if you can. It's fine." I let myself drift. And the next thing I know Cinna is saying, "Katniss, wake up for me." I blink slowly. He smiles and holds out another glass of juice. "Drink that and sit up." I drink down the glass of juice and he takes it back and, after I sit up, he uses something on my mouth. "Perfect. Do you think you can stand while we dress you?"

"I think so, yes." I stand slowly and find that I feel better.

Cinna and Flavius dress me in skirt that's huge and puffy, all reds and oranges. Then they add a bodice with thin straps made completely of gold, red and yellow beads. Cinna laces it up the back and says, "Too tight?" I shake my head, "Too heavy?"

It is heavy and my shoulders ache, "How long do I have to stand up?"

His eyebrows go up. "Too much then." He takes a pair of scissors and says, "If you think you're going to faint let me know." He starts to cut and says, "Tell me when it's light enough." He cuts one strip of beads off at a time, leaving the lace up part alone and after a while I can breathe under the weight and it doesn't ache.

"There," I say, looking down I realize that he's had to cut most of it off and my abdomen is exposed. Flavius measures the amount of space between the top and my skirt. He pulls bright red material from a drawer and starts to cut it. He cuts one of the lines of beads from the discarded strips of the bodice and sews it to the light material. Cinna unlaces my top and hands my towel back.

"Sit back down," he says as he takes the material from Flavius and sews it into the top. His hand flies as he works. It's incredible to watch. The material has gold threads running through it.

Flavius opens a drawer and pulls out a pair of shoes that match the colors of the skirt. "You've made flats very in. Heels are out because of you." He moves to put them on my feet. "These are called ballet slippers and they are cutting fashion."

"Why are they called that?" I ask.

Flavius seems to think and then says, "I have no idea." He slides them onto my feet and says, "Please stand up," he says then quickly adds, "if you can." I stand and fire radiates from the shoes, a constant flame not spurts or sparks. "Perfect."

Cinna comes and removes my towel then redresses me in the bodice, "Better?" I nod. "Good." He laces up the back. "Flavius, get the mirror please." Flavius opens a door and pulls a floor length mirror on wheels into the room and moves it to be in front of me. I don't look half dead. The shoes light up the skirt and make it all look like flames without me moving or twirling. "When you're sitting keep pressure on your feet or you'll lose the effect."

I say, "You did amazingly well." To Flavius I say, "Thank you for the hair." It all loose curls and he's done something to give it fiery streaks. "I didn't feel it at all."

"Good," he says.

Cinna looks at him and says, "Get the others and pack Katniss' and Gale's things, please."

He nods and says, "Katniss, I'll see you for the Victory Tour. Don't cut your hair."

"Okay."

"I'd hug you but you're in pain."

"We'll hug when we see each other for the Victory Tour," I say and he smiles at me before leaving.

Cinna says, "How are you feeling? Why don't you sit down until you have to stand?" When I sit back down I take the weight off my feet and the shoes shut off instantly. Cinna says, "Final touch," before adding my pin to the top. Looking past me he says, "Portia do you need help?"

"Yes, I had to kick out the prep team almost immediately," I turn my chair to watch. "Can you do Gale's eyes for me?" She asks without looking up from what she's doing to Gale's hair.

"Sure," agreed Cinna.

"Did Haymitch ever come back?" I ask.

"Yeah," says Gale. "Medical knows nothing about what's going to happen next."

"Great," I say. "Nothing?"

"Nothing," repeats Gale. Cinna and Portia are moving fast around him. "So, Haymitch says, we should expect the tremors, dizziness, pain and headaches to continue."

I sigh and I watch Portia and Cinna practically dancing around Gale, "How much time do you have left?" I ask.

"Half an hour," say Portia and Cinna together.

After only a few minutes Cinna says, "Portia, is that what you wanted?"

"Perfect, thank you." She moves back from Gale, "Okay, Breezy, sit up." Gale doesn't react to the nickname and I wonder if she uses it a lot. I never pay much attention to Gale while we're being styled. Being styled is weird and distracting. I think that he must like Portia as much as I like Cinna. Gale sits up and looks at me. His hair is a boy version of mine and his eyes are surrounded by red and orange glitter that makes it look like even his eyes are on fire.

"Portia, Catnip is wearing less makeup than me again."

"I told you: Katniss is prettier." He laughs and she says, "Someday you'll realize I'm not joking." That makes him laugh harder. "It's time to get you dressed." She gets clothes for him that match mine and says, "Your shoes are like Katniss'. Keep some weight on your feet or else they'll stop and we don't want them to stop."

Portia dresses Gale in a black shirt and a waist coat that matches my top. There are black pants with flames embroidered up the side. They're dressier versions of the ones we wore during training. Cinna sews a strip of the material he'd added to my bodice into the waistline of the pants, his hands fly as he works. Haymitch opens the door and looks at us. "Gale, why aren't you wearing pants?"

"I had to radically change Katniss' shell because it weighed too much so now we need to change Gale's pants," Cinna finishes sewing and cuts the thread. He hands them to Portia and grabs Gale's shoes from the same drawer as mine. They finish dressing him quickly and Cinna pulls the mirror to him.

"I don't look like a corpse anymore," says Gale. "Thank you." He looks at our stylists and says, "Clothes have never mattered to me but I know how much work you do, and I know how good you are at it and how important the clothes have been. Thank you." He kisses Portia's cheek.

"We have to go," says Haymitch. Portia checks her perfect makeup in the mirror and Cinna fixes some imperceptible problem with his hair. Then we're moving and Haymitch says, "Katniss, how are you doing?"

"I'm okay for now," I say.

Haymitch nods and says, "It's barely more than fifteen minutes. And you'll be sitting down for most of it." He leads us to the elevator and hits the number one. "We're going outside; don't fight looking scared. There are thousands of people out there. Your kids are watching; make them proud." I think he's reminding us of the kids to remind us of the danger. It's his way of telling us to act the way we're supposed to. When the elevator doors open Effie is waiting for us. She is dressed as a fire. Her skirt has logs on it.

"You're late," she says.

"They're in pain and dressing them took longer than was expected. Because. They're. In. Pain," Haymitch says it slowly like she's simple.

We're ushered to a stage and then it's all just a blur: the anthem plays, and then we're sat in thrones. Haymitch and Effie hold hands as he bows and she curtsies, so do Cinna and Portia, the president gives a long speech about fidelity and obedience and then we're told to stand. Gale looks shaky but he stays on his feet despite the fact that he's swaying slightly.

The president is holding one, simple, thick gold band. He twists it in his hands and it becomes two separate rings. He places one on Gale's head. He shakes Gale's hand and Gale gasps — he must be gripping too tightly — and Snow says, "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"It's okay. Everything is just sore," says Gale. I hear his voice echo, projected over the crowd. "Thank you, Sir."

Snow smiles at him and then moves to me. As he places the gold band on my head he glances down and says, "That is a beautiful pin."

"Thank you, Sir, it was from a girl in my district." He nods and I act like it's impulsive when I throw my arms around him. He chuckles and hugs me back, arms far too tight. He smells of something awful that I can't place. As I pull back I say, "Thank you. For everything. For sending the gifts to 11. For sending Gale and me home. For everything."

He smiles and says, "Your obedience was admirable and deserved to be rewarded." All of it is being broadcast over the crowd. He gives the throngs of people a wave and leaves us.

I hear Caesar's voice over speakers and he says, "Say goodbye to the Boy and Girl on Fire!" The crowd starts to shout and cheer but it sounds more threatening than celebratory. On the edge of my vision I see Gale start to falter. Turning fast hurts but I catch him as his legs give out. I gasp in pain, the nails make it worse, make it feel like someone is stabbing my fingers as I'm trying to hold up his weight.

Haymitch rushes to us and helps me lift Gale. Gale drops his head and his crown falls to the ground making a heavy, clattering noise. Portia comes and picks it up. Cinna says, "Katniss, let me help Gale. I don't want you to collapse again."

Portia comes to me and says, "It's okay, Katniss, it's the same thing you had earlier. He needs a rest." She wraps a gentle arm around my waist and helps me straighten up as Cinna takes one side Gale and Haymitch takes the other.

"Katniss, wave to your friends and supporters," Haymitch says. I do and they cheer, "Gale, try not to vomit on stage." All of their words are sent out to the crowd. We start moving to get off the stage and Effie is quiet for once. She doesn't touch me or Gale. Portia keeps her arm around me and I'm grateful to her because I don't know if I can stand on my own. I wave again as we leave the stage and the crowd screams.

When we're finally backstage I breathe out slowly. "Katniss, are you okay?" asks Portia and I nod but still lean into her.

As we reach the elevator Haymitch says, "Effie, why don't you go ask about the train and our arrangements while the kid get dressed? You can say goodbye to your friends."

She looks startled by how everything is unraveling in front of her and leaves, going in a different direction. "She's quiet," says Gale.

Haymitch shrugs, "She got excited when you won; thought she might get assigned to a better district. And now she's seeing things the way they are: you're broken and she's getting back on the train with us." In the changing room Haymitch and Cinna maneuver Gale into his chair while Portia guides me into mine. "You were very good."

"I collapsed," Gale says.

"Not on top of the president," says Haymitch, "that would have been bad." Gale goes grey; Haymitch grabs a trashcan and puts it in front of Gale's face before he vomits.

"Try not to get it on your clothes," says Portia as she moves to him and strokes his hair. "Take your time."

"Sorry," he groans with his face still in the container.

"You didn't do it on stage," she comforts him as he vomits again. "And medical has no idea?" she asks Haymitch.

"They're not sure what to expect. They have no time line. They don't know," Haymitch doesn't look away from Gale. "We'll go home and you'll sleep, eat and try to level out before we have to do the Victory Tour. At least we should have a clearer idea of the problem by then."

Cinna is working fast and puts a bowl of steaming liquid on a tray table next to my chair. "Put the tips of your fingers in there, please." I do as he asks.

"I'm done," says Gale. Sitting back he says, "Sorry."

"It's okay, Breezy," she speaks gently. She gets him a glass of water and says, "Rinse and spit, you'll start to feel better." He does it a few times and then nods.

Haymitch looks in the can and grimaces, "So much for weight gain. I'll get you a new can."

"Sorry," Gale says as he leaves.

"It's not your fault," says Portia. "I blame Katniss."

"Why blame me?" I ask.

"Because you're the one who poisoned him," she says and Gale starts to laugh and she smiles at me. She has the same sense of humor as Gale. That alone is proof she isn't from here. No one in this city seems to understand that way of joking, let alone being able to tell those jokes. Gale stops laughing and groans. "Oh, please don't be sick again: we don't have a can."

"Then don't be funny," he says. He breathes slowly.

"Do you think you can lean back for me?"

He nods and rests back in the chair. Cinna takes my hands from the bowl and gently removes the nails that are now loose on my fingers. He dries my hand and re-polishes the nails in a pale yellow that sparkles. "We're dressing you in flame, but it will be light and comfortable." He releases my hands and says, "Let them dry." He goes to a closet and pulls out a dress that looks like it's made from fine scarves that are all different shades of pale yellow. The dress store in town has scarves like that. They've been in the window for years because they're too expensive to buy but they're nice to look at.

Cinna and Portia are working fast, passing this to each other. Haymitch comes and stands in a corner, watching them. The mentors leave the minute their tributes are dead. It must feel strange to him to still be here. He's never spent such a long time in the Capitol before. He must want to leave as much as us. But I wonder if it aches as badly for him, if he misses home or just hates it here. There's no one back home for him.

"All of your dressy clothes will go into the Victor's Museum so leave these of the train." Cinna says as he changes my shoes into paler versions of the ballet slippers and then he does new hair and new makeup. The makeup makes me look young and healthy. He twines hair into and around the crown, he adds color as he works and it ends up looking like my head is wreathed in flames. He redresses me and says. "Perfect. In the train you will find a copy of the dress you wore here, it's identical but three sizes smaller. When you leave the train at home, wear that, your pin that and your boots, braid your hair and pin in the hat that'll be in your room. We're showing the country that you're going home the same girl you were when you came; the hat will be the only change. They've shown your reaping ten times since you went into the arena: everyone knows that dress. Your real dress is in your packing. I thought about altering it but I hope you'll gain enough weight that it fits again."

"Thank you." I hug him and he strokes my back before moving away.

He helps me into the new pale yellow dress and, as he finishes buttoning it up the back he says, "There: I'm done dressing you until the Victory Tour. You'll go home to your comfortable, practical clothes. Hopefully, that will make you feel more normal."

Gale looks the same as me in a pale yellow shirt and pale tan leather pants. "Comfortable? Anything too tight?" asks Portia.

"It feels good," he says.

"You're going to wear your constant flame shoes onto the train. When you get off the train you have an outfit that is a much smaller version of what you wore here, a bracelet and your shoes that spurt fire."

"I like those," says Gale with a tired smile.

"I know. They're yours now. Another pair will go into the museum."

"I'll wear them when Posey demands I chase her like a monster."

Haymitch looks at the clock on the wall, "We need to go."

Our stylists hug us. Cinna's arms are gentle around me and he whispers, "I'll call you in a few days."

"Thank you for everything," I say and he just smiles.

Haymitch guides us out into a back alley where there's a car waiting. "The streets will be crowded. Just wave and smile." Effie joins us and Haymitch says, "You're late, Miss Trinket." He waves us into the car. Sitting opposite us he says, "Smile and wave."

There is a mob in roads and we wave as we drive. Haymitch keeps well out view, sitting as far back in his seat as possible but Effie is leaning forward and waving with a lot more energy than us. There are Peacekeepers in a huge line at the train station, keeping people off the platform. A train is idling and Haymitch says, "You don't have to say anything, just smile and wave. Don't exhaust yourselves, don't collapse." He opens the door and steps out. He offers me his hand and I let him guide me out of the car. Gale grabs my other hand follows me. Effie and Haymitch flank us but Haymitch releases my hand so that I can wave. We pause at the door to give one last wave before entering the train. "And you're done," says Haymitch. "That's your Hunger Games finished."

"We don't need to wave at the window?" asks Gale sounding relieved.

"I don't know if you should be standing while we're in motion. Why don't you go bathe? Don't lock the doors and call if you hit trouble," Haymitch says as he goes to the bar and examines the bottles.

Unlike last time, when we guessed which rooms were ours, this time the doors have our names painted on them in gold, curling letters. There's a tub in my bathroom and I think it would be better to sit down than to stand. I end up using two tubs full of hot water because, when I wash off my hair and whatever Cinna used to make me look tan, the water is dark brown and shimmery. The second time leaves me clean and I stand slowly but feel significantly better than I did this morning. In my room I see that my bags were left packed and I'm glad I won't have to repack them before leaving the train. I go to hang up the dress made of scarves and see the small version of my mother's dress hanging next to the real one and my boots are at the bottom of the closet, my real boots that brought me from home to this horrible place. I redress in simple PJs and go back out to the main rooms.

Before I enter I hear Haymitch. He's talking in an angry whisper as he says, "Effie, they're not stepping out of here with pep and vigor. You cannot schedule a special yet."

She whispers too as she says, "But people love them. The longer we keep the momentum going the better chance we have for next year. It would just be something small: their stylists, prep teams and a camera crew. They could show their hobby, whatever they're working on."

"I agree about momentum; I agree that we'll have to use anything they can give us to put toward next year. But two months isn't enough time." Haymitch speaks to her gently and I realize he agrees with her, feels that a special would be a good idea. "You're under estimating how injured they are because you want to believe that you're bringing home two perfectly healthy children. You saw them poison each other. You saw them when they were as dead as slaughtered animals. I know you were crying a lot but you saw it." That surprises me. I didn't think Effie cared enough for anyone other than herself to weep over our deaths. "We'll be lucky if they're healthy by the Victory Tour. We'll do it half way between the Victory Tour and the reaping. You cannot ask them to be ready in two months."

As I step into the room I say, "What would we have to do?" Then I stumble to a chair; I guess I stood for too long by the door.

"Being able to stand for over ten minutes would be a good start," Haymitch says. "Do you feel up to eating?"

"Yes," I nod. "I don't understand it. We could stand up after the hovercraft. It's gotten worse."

"Medical pumped you full of something to keep you breathing. It was still in your system when you got back."

"Maybe they can do that again," I say.

He shakes his head and hits the button to call an Avox. "If they could do that then they would have. They like you. They want you healthy. You're just going to have to ride it out." The Avox comes, a man with brown skin and brown eyes, he might have started his life in 11. "Please bring an assortment of light foods. Katniss is going to see what she can keep down." The man nods and leaves. "Gale ate more than you this morning. I think that's why he vomited for ten minutes straight and you didn't. Don't force it."

I eat slowly and methodically, not really tasting the food. I don't really care and can't be bothered to appreciate the flavors. Soon I'll be home with regular food, regular clothes, regular people. "Two months won't be enough," I say to Effie. "But maybe we can have people come to the district a few days before the Victory Tour, do a preview of what they'll see? Or something. If it will help the kids next year we should do it but I don't think two months is enough."

She nods, "I'll talk to Haymitch. You have a phone now. You can call if you want anything from the city."

"Thank you," I say.

Haymitch looks at his watch and says, "I'm going to go check on Gale. He's been a long time."

He stands on solid feet and I wonder how much he's drank. He knocks at Gale's door and calls him. When he gets no answer he goes in. I feel my breath catch. What if he survived the arena if only to drown in the bath? What if he had a bout of shakes and slipped under the water? Then Haymitch comes back and says, "He fell asleep. He'll be out in a minute." I feel my heart racing in my chest and don't trust myself to speak.

Gale does shamble into the room a few minutes later. He looks awful but sits down and slowly picks up a glass of water. His hand shakes and I gently guide the glass to his mouth. He drinks slowly. And when he's done he speaks with a tired voice. "Katniss, do you want to go to bed?"

I take his hand and say, "Yeah, let's get a few hours." Effie says nothing about our sharing a bed. I turn on the lights in my room. It's light out now but we might wake up in the dark and I don't want to panic. Gale wraps himself around me and I don't have to work to fall asleep.

Chapter Text

The arena is sunny, warm without being hot, I can see the Cornucopia glittering in the light. It looks beautiful. It would be a nice place to bring the kids if it wasn't an arena.

I'm drenched in blood.

A woman is screaming for her babies. I killed her children. I thought of them as only tributes but they were that woman's babies.

I look down to their bodies and feel horror wash over me. I've cut Posey in half. She's in two parts. I dropped the razor wire onto of her ruined body. Rory has an arrow through his forehead. Vick had hidden his face in fear, not wanting to see what I was doing. There's an arrow through each of hands, piercing into his eyes.

Gale is next to Vick, foaming at the mouth, writhing in pain. He reaches for me, not to fight but seeking comfort. The woman's voice becomes recognizably Hazel Hawthorne's. She says, "Katniss Everdeen, you killed my children."

Then I hear someone shouting, "Katniss! Katniss!" I wake up and see Gale. "You were screaming."

"Sorry."

"It was a dream," he says.

"I killed you." My face is wet and I scrub away the tears.

He nods slowly, "Yes, you did. You killed me for five minutes but I killed you for eight. We're not dead now. We're alive."

"We killed thirteen mothers' children," I say.

His nods again and says nothing. He just lies back down and wraps his arms around me. "We're out and there is nothing we can do. We got out. They didn't. Go back to sleep."

I try to but I just remember Posey cut in half and Vick, who died in fear. I try to match my breath to his but I can't sleep and I tug his arm so that he's holding me more tightly. I focus on the movement of the train and the feel of Gale's arm. It gets light slowly and finally the door opens.

Haymitch studies me and says, "Did you fall back to sleep after the screaming?" I shake my head. "You got about eight hours. Gale's had about fourteen. We're two hours from home. Don't bother bathing: you're clean from last night. Come eat and then get dressed." I nod and he says, "Wake Gale," and leaves.

As I move away from Gale he blinks. I tell him what Haymitch said and he repeats, "Two hours?" He yawns and says, "Did you sleep?"

"Couldn't."

"What were you dreaming?"

"We should get up." I lean away from him and stand up slowly.

"Katniss," he says.

I shake my head, "Gale, drop it."

I start making my side of the bed and Gale sighs before getting up and saying, "Fine. Why tell me? I'm only your best friend. I'm only the person who was there with you." He makes the other side. His movements are jerky, it's not the shakes just irritation. I laugh. He looks at me with confusion. "What?" he asks sharply, still clearly annoyed with me.

"It's nice to be able to upset each other without worrying about what sponsors will think."

He laughs too. It doesn't matter that he slept for fourteen hours. He still looks worn but smiling he says, "Two more hours." We join Haymitch and Gale eats hungrily. He vomited yesterday's breakfast and went to bed before dinner. I sip a yogurt drink that tastes flowers not trusting my stomach this morning. I can almost smell blood on me, Rue's or the kids'.

As Gale eats an omelet he says, "We should get a chicken. We're rich. We could afford to buy live animals without it being a birthday present. You should learn to cook as your hobby. Then you could cook omelets."

"Why should I learn to cook?" I ask. "If you want an omelet you should learn to cook."

He shrugs, "Cooking's girly."

"Your young man bakes," I say, using Rue's phrase.

Gale smirks at his plate, "I assure you: Peeta's not a girl."

Haymitch laughs at that. I finish my drink and say, "I better go get dressed. That dress buttons up the back. It's going to take me a long time."

"I can help you," says Effie, standing. "You shouldn't stand for that long." I don't want her help. Then I think of my mother. Perhaps it's time to start accepting help I don't want. I nod and in my bedroom, after I wash my face, she buttons the dress and adds my pin while I try to braid my hair but my hands are shaking and I have difficulty pulling the strands as tightly as I need to. "Your braid became quite popular. There was a tutorial on TV on how to do it. Can I help?" I nod, sit down at the mirror and hold still. She must have paid attention to the show because her hands are fast.

"There's a hat somewhere."

"Perhaps in the hat box?" says Effie with a laugh. She points to a box on the dresser.

"I didn't know they made boxes just for hats."

She looks shocked and I can see a thought brewing, some comment about the districts and ignorance but she takes a breath, clearly keeping it in. And instead she says, "They're shaped to protect hats."

"That makes sense."

She goes for the box and, opening the lid, she gasps, "Oh, Cinna, you really out did yourself." She brings the box to me and I see the hat. It's designed to hug my skull over my braid but the edges flip up and out. It's absolutely drenched in beads that make it look like fire and strands of beads that hang down like sparks flying off the hat. "Not a single designer has figured out Cinna and Portia's method. They've tried to emulate it but they just can't. In an interview with Caesar they said they will not divulge the secret unless they're ordered to by the president. But I want a hat like this so badly so I hope someone figures out something like it." She pins it into my hair and smiles at me in the mirror. "Cinna was right. He was asked in that interview why you always have such natural makeup. He said that if it weren't for TV lights you wouldn't need some much as a smear on lipstick." She sighs and shakes her head. "Where are your shoes?"

"Closet," I say, feeling stunned by her compliment.

It only gets stranger when she looks inside and says, "They shouldn't have hung up your dress. You might have left it." She takes the dress, folds it carefully — doesn't treat it like a rag but like it's something important — and puts it in my bag. "We wouldn't want you to leave your best dress behind." And then the oddest thing yet happens: she kneels in front of me and puts my boots on my feet: Effie Trinket puts my shoes on. She fastens the hooks and says, "Is that okay? Not too tight?" I shake my head and she says, "Good." She stands and offers me her hand.

As I stand I say, "Cinna is calling me in a few days. I'll ask him if he'll make you a hat. I know working with Haymitch must be hard and we got a lot of gifts. That couldn't have been easy."

She smiles and says, "Usually it's hard. He's drunk and says, 'Why bother? They're already dead. All we're doing is prolonging their agony.' This time he was sober and people were falling over themselves to give us money. It's just nice to bring children home for once. I want a richer district so that I can do that more often."

We all play our roles in the Games. Undoubtedly the tributes have it the worst but it mustn't be very fun for an escort who only ever escorts people one way. "I appreciate what you did for us. And I'll ask Cinna to try and make you something."

She smiles and says, "Thank you. Let's go see if you can drink some more calories."

The time passes mostly in silence. I drink more yogurt, Gale looks out the window and Haymitch excuses himself to shower. Gale is dressed in a smaller version of the clothes he wore to the city, his fire shoes and a bracelet that sparkles with the emulated fire.

He says, "It's starting to look like home." I move to the window and sit next to him on the couch there. "Look at the trees. They look right."

"Yeah," I lean against him. "Yeah, they look right," I agree. He slings his arm around me.

"Effie, how much longer?" he asked, not looking away from the window.

"A little under twenty minutes," says Haymitch walking in. He's wearing a nice suit and has brushed his hair. "Leave your things when you step off. They'll all be brought to your new houses."

"Are the Victor's Village houses nice inside?" I ask.

"They're big. They have something called air-conditioning that keeps them cool in the summer and another thing called central heating that keeps the whole house warm in the winter. They have bathrooms, not outhouses, with hot and cold running water and showers and baths. They'll have moved in yesterday, and probably picked out bedrooms. You'll have your own rooms now." He thinks and repeats, "They're big. They never creak in the wind."

We fall back to just looking out the window. Gale's hand seeks mine and he says, "What do we have to do when we get off the train?"

"Nothing at all. You don't have to force smiles; you don't have to wave. Forget the cameras and just hug your families and take a deep breath of home. Katniss is wearing her hat, you're wearing your bracelet and shoes and that is all you need to do. Just be home. They showed your kids on TV, they look healthy and well taken care of. They look tired and scared but physically fine and soon you'll be in their arms. Nothing else matters; don't think about the cameras: just be home."

"They aren't thin?" I ask.

Haymitch shakes his head, "Peeta and the people who helped him did a great job. Rory's face looks a little thinner but he also looked taller so I think that's a growth spurt not a sign of going without. Peeta doesn't look thin and he's putting the kids first so it can't be that Rory is hungry." I let out a relieved breath and he says, "You'll see them with your own eyes soon."

We sit in silence and I see the huge steel gate in front of the train station. It's massive, cutting into the sky, fifty feet tall and ten inches thick with 12 stamped into the metal. It's slow to open and we have to stop and wait. I'm vibrating and so is Gale. He stands and Effie says, "Gale, the train stopping might knock you over."

The train slowly starts to move again and we're finally inside. The streets are packed. But unlike in the city this crowd isn't frightening because I know the faces and they all look happy, look pleased but more than anything they look relieved. The train finally stops and Gale stands, keeping my hand in his. He doesn't need to tug me as I'm as eager as he is.

The door opens and arms I know so well wrap around my waist as I step out. I hug her close to me and rest my cheek on the top of her head. I hold her close and feel Gale brush past me. For the first time in months he isn't the main focus of my attention. She feels solid and when I finally pull back to look at her I see that her face is full. "Prim," I breathe and pull her back in. "I was so worried. Are you okay?"

She nods, "You're home and you brought Gale with you. It's impossible."

I stroke her hair, "But it's happening," I say. "I missed you."

"I missed you too," she sounds close to tears as she speaks. Her arms never leave my waist. "I can't believe you're home."

"I know, I know."

She draws away and wipes a few tears from her face, "A lot of people want to say hello and we've got all the time we need to talk."

But I pull her back close to me and say, "Just give me one more minute. Everyone will understand if it takes me one more minute."

" I was so scared," she says and I rub her back.

"Of course you were. Only an idiot wouldn't be. I love you and I was so scared I would never see you again."

"I love you too," she buries her head into my chest.

She smells of clean sweat, soap washed hair and coal dust. I inhale her; I missed everything about my little sister. "I'm home now; I promise: I'm really home." I hold her close and let myself relax into the sensation of having her in my arms. When I finally let her go I smile, "We'll talk about everything later. Okay?" She nods and I kiss her cheek. I take her hand in mine and keep her by my side.

The platform is packed with well wishers and everyone is dressed nicely. No one has ever gone to greet the train for people coming back. Only Haymitch ever comes back and the district is too busy grieving and trying to move on with their lives to pay the district's drunk any attention. The train station's white concrete platform has been scrubbed for our arrival but I can already see smudges of black dust. The air smells right and every face is familiar.

My mother approaches and I smile. I think off all the terrible, true, things I said about her in the arena but I don't regret it. "Mom," I smile, "I'm glad I'm home." She hugs me and I meet Gale's eye over her shoulder. I remember the promise I made and I'll try to keep it. He closes his eyes as his mother hugs him his arms are wrapped around her back. I try to relax into my mother's arms but I'm tense. I'm not used to physical contact with her. I don't let go of Prim's hand.

She pulls back and says, "You, me and Gale need to have a talk. I can't fix what the nightlock did to you but if I have a written list of the effects of the poison I might be able to at least treat those. I'm sure the medical staff was amazing but doctors and apothecarists think differently."

"Thank you," I say. "We keep collapsing or vomiting so anything you can do would be good."

She gives me a smile and says, "I'll figure it out."

"Thank you," I repeat. I glance past her and see that Gale is surrounded by his family. "Wow, Rory got so tall," I say. He's wearing a set of Gale's nicer clothes and they're incredibly baggy but not much too long.

"Over two inches in the time you've been gone," she nods. She kisses my cheek and it's strange because I don't remember the last time she kissed me. "We'll talk later."

I nod and she moves away. Then Madge is there. She's wearing the dress she wore to the reaping, the one Gale complimented. She's a little thinner than she was last time I saw her, most of the crowd is. The kids are fine but everyone else looks like they suffered in our absence. We need to get better soon because we need to start getting meat for people.

I take the pin from my dress, doing it one handed as I'm still not willing to release Prim's grip. Holding it out on my palm I say, "Thank you."

She shakes her head and reaches out to close my fingers over it. "It's yours."

"Madge, I can't take this." I say trying to give it to her.

"You're not taking it. It's yours." Then she says, "Now that you have a little free time we should get to know each other instead of just doing school projects together."

I nod. "I'd like that." She starts to walk away and I say, "Thank you for the pin."

"Don't thank me: it was already yours," she says with a smile.

Gale is crouching, talking to Vick who is touching his face and talking fast. And then a man dressed in white is standing in front of me. He studies me for a moment then he picks me up in a hug. His arms are strong and gentle around me and it doesn't hurt at all. It does, however, force me to release Prim.

I'm not sure if we've ever been this close before. He smells nice, some smell of flowers and I remember all the people in the Capitol smelling different. Maybe the showers in the Peacekeepers' houses are like the ones in the Capitol. Maybe he uses perfume like Effie, like Caesar. Unlike Caesar and Effie it's not overwhelming and over the scent is the smell of coal, ever present here where people might sweat the smell with all the dust we inhale. Not even a Peacekeeper can avoid the taint of coal but it smells better, more real and less foreign, than the perfume.

As he puts me down he says, "When I got assigned to 12 other Peacekeepers laughed. It's not a rich district, doesn't produce the most coveted wares and it's far away from the city: too far to go home to the Capitol on days off. Now, I want to call them all up and say, 'How's your rich district? 12 paid its tribute in obedience not blood.'"

I smile, "It's amazing to see you, Darius."

"I knew you or Gale would come back. I just wasn't sure who I'd see." He smiles at me and looks genuinely pleased I'm here. He also looks exhausted and I remember his promise to help look after the kids. I wonder what the time we've been away was like for him and if any of the tiredness was caused by worry about us. "I still can't believe it's both of you. Those two kids who spend all their time on the move, chatting in the market and telling off younger siblings. Who would have thought you'd end up being the Boy and Girl on Fire?" I laugh at that. He looks so happy and he says, "You know, Miss Everdeen, it wasn't cowardice."

"What?" I ask not understanding what he's talking about.

"I didn't not ask you for a walk because I was afraid of being turned down."

I laugh again and say, "Darius, I know that Gale was just trying to make me laugh. I didn't think for a second that you wanted to ask for a walk."

He shakes his head and looks serious, "I didn't ask you for a walk because I didn't want you to say yes if you were just worried about the consequences of saying no to a Peacekeeper. I wanted you to say yes because you wanted to. So, keeping in mind that you're the Girl on Fire and I'm a Peacekeeper in one of the poorest districts in the country: may I accompany you on a walk?"

I swallow, feeling shocked. Some small part of me thought Gale was telling the truth but I hadn't ever really believed him. "Yes, I'd like that," I finally say. "But not this week."

"No, you are barely standing."

"Exactly," I say. Then I add, "See? I can say yes and no at the same time."

He laughs and says, "I'm holding you to that promise of a walk, Miss Everdeen." He starts to back away, still facing me.

"Okay," I can feel myself start to blush, knowing at the whole country is watching.

As he passes Gale I hear him say, "I'm glad you told her: I would have wanted her to know if she hadn't gotten out." Gale smiles at him. "It's good to have you both back in your right place."

I glance at Prim and see she looks shocked and is smiling. "Stop it," I say and she just smiles wider. "No really, Prim, stop: I can't stop blushing."

"I can see that," she says, voice edged with laughter.

Gale walks over to me with Posey in his arms. "Told you," his voice holds the same note as Prim's.

"Shut up," I say.

"Posey won't let me put her down but wanted to come hug you." I see his arms are shaking.

I put my arms out for her and say, "Come here: I want a hug." She reaches for me.

Gale looks relieved for the break as he hands her over and mouths, "Thank you."

I nod and then smile at her. "I missed you."

"You looked beautiful," she says. "Your dresses were so pretty. Are you going to keep dressing like a girl now?"

I laugh. "No," I say. "I can't wait for my own cloths."

She sighs sadly and that makes Gale laugh. "Did you bring me a present?" she asks. "You always do the best birthday presents. You got Prim a goat." It's not greed or presumptuous of her to ask. She's a little girl and to her us being back means everything is normal; there is nothing to fear in her mind. And just as the sun comes up in the morning and sets at night it is a fact that Gale and I do always get the best birthday presents.

"Well, sweetheart, Katniss and I always trade for weeks to get you good presents and we've been away," Gale starts but I interrupt him.

"Which is why Gale asked my stylist, Cinna, to make you something." Gale's eyes go wide and I say, "Cinna made all of my beautiful clothes. Gale told him your favorite color is pink. Here, let me put you down." I place her down on the ground. It's a relief; she's never felt so heavy before and my arms ache. I crouch as I start to pull the hat pins from my hair. As I take it off I show her the pink lining and I say, "Cinna wanted you to remember that the year you turned four 12 was on fire. I'm sorry I wore it for a little while; I couldn't resist trying it on."

She takes it in her hands with a look on wonder. "This is for me?"

"Yeah, Cinna made it a little big so that you can't grow out of it. Would you like me to put it on?" She still looks stunned but nods so I take it and pin it carefully into her hair. "You look beautiful."

"Really?" I nod and she starts to turn. "Where's Momma? I want to show her."

"Wait, what do you say to Gale?"

"Thank you, Gale," she says automatically.

"And Cinna is watching," I prompt her.

"Thank you, Cinna," she says.

"Cinna is so irritated with you," Gale says to me as she runs off. I don't try to stand up, crouching still feels fine.

"Cinna knew I would wear that hat for ten minutes. She'll wear it every day and anytime she gets a compliment she'll say, 'District 12's stylist, Cinna, made it for me.' Isn't that better?"

He nods and then Vick comes to me and I hug him close, glad I never stood up. "I have a good joke," he says.

"I bet it's foul so wait until we're off TV," I say and he grins, clearly it's disgusting.

I see that Gale is hugging Prim close to him and whispering something. She looks close to tears again. Then Rory comes and I try to stand but realize I can't. Maybe panic shows in my eyes because he quickly lifts me as he hugs me. "Thanks," I say, "You got really tall. You're taller than me."

He shrugs, "You're really short, Katniss." He smiles. "I can't believe your both home."

"Yeah," I agree.

He says, "I know it's stupid but," he pulls a yellow ribbon from his pocket, "I came third in the district spelling bee."

I smile and kiss his cheek, "That's not stupid at all. That's great."

"Aja Dale came in seventh," he says it softly but I'm sure the whole country will hear him.

I laugh and say, "That's not nice."

With a sigh he says, "Well she's said some very uncharitable things about you."

I laugh again, "It is so good to be home with you." He nods and holds me close again.

"I didn't want to be the oldest, Katniss, I was so scared neither of you would come home. You have to teach me how to do what you do. I don't know how to do what you do and I knew that if you didn't come home I wouldn't be able to take care of them. I didn't want to be the oldest."

I stroke his hair, "We'll teach you everything," I promise.

"Posey is about to fall off the platform. If I let you go will you be able to stand by yourself?" he asks and I nod. As he lets me go I slip my hand back into Prim's. He runs over to the edge of the platform and scoops her up as she's leaning to look at the under of the train.

Peeta is last onto the platform and I wonder if it's on purpose; I wonder if Haymitch managed to stage it. It's something he would do: manipulate their meeting. Gale turns and he looks so happy, so relieved as he hugs Peeta. Gale buries his head in Peeta neck, his shoulders move and I realize that he's weeping into Peeta's neck. I look away, it's far too personal and no one should be watching it. Then again, people have watched us sitting in our underwear talking about dead fathers, fears and first kisses.

Peeta speaks into his hair and Gale nods into his neck. He holds Gale tightly and I see the exact second Gale's legs go out but Peeta holds him up easily. "You shouldn't have gone into the arena. You've wrecked yourself," Peeta says.

Gale pulls back, wiping his now tear stained face. He looks angry and exhausted as he says, "I've been gone for over two months. We're not picking this fight up where we left off. I had a better chance of coming home. And here I am: I came home and I brought Katniss with me. I don't want to fight anymore." Peeta nods and leans up to kiss him slowly. Gale pulls back suddenly. "I think I'm going to vomit and I really don't want to vomit in your mouth."

Peeta hugs him again and says, "Well that would be unpleasant but considering you died yesterday it wouldn't be the worst thing to happen this week." Peeta moves to his side but still holds him up as he says, "Let's get you into bed." As he passes me he says, "Thank you, Katniss, if it wasn't for your bow he never would have gotten out of there."

I nod but looking at Gale's glassy eyes and grey complexion I wonder if we'll ever really leave the arena. A part of me can't believe this is real. Gale's too-pale skin is so much more real than Peeta's full face. Rue's blood on my hands seemed so much more tangible than my hand in Prim's. The violence and horrors are fresh in my head and my body is screaming in pain. But I look at my smiling sister and I say, "It's good to be home."