Hello, Lovelys! This is a challenge fic by thornsword. It was a really good idea, and I hope you like it.
Warning: Some of this chapter is directly out of the book, just reworded. Enjoy!
"Communications are down in 7, 10, and 12. 11 is in control of transportation now, so there's at least a hope of getting some food out." Says a male, who I can almost positively ID as Plutarch Heavensbee. I've only spoken to him once, but I am almost sure it's him. A hoarse voice asks a question, which I can't make out.
"No, I'm sorry. There's no way I can get you to 4. But, I have given special orders for her retrieval if possible. It's the best I can do, Finnick." Plutarch says.
Finnick. I try to wrap my head around this situation, a conversation between Finnick Odair and Plutarch Heavensbee, in the Capital after the arena exploded, mind you. Has he been excused from his crimes because he is one of the Capital's favorite pets? Or did he not know Beetee's intentions? He croaks out something else, something laced with despair.
"Don't be stupid. That's the worst thing you could do. Get her killed for sure. As long as you're alive, they'll keep her alive for bait." Says Haymitch.
Says Haymitch! I throw my entire weight at the door, effectively opening it but leaving me to fall to the ground, smashing the syringe. "Dammit!" I say, before looking up at the four pairs of eyes staring at me. Plutarch, Haymitch, Finnick and - Peeta. I am in shock, so in shock that for a minute I don't notice the windows. Daylight streams into them, telling me that we're not underground. The tips of trees tell me that... We're flying.
"Woah, language, sweetheart." Haymitch jokes. I hardly notice though, as I am already getting up and opening my mouth to ask what in the hell is going on. "Before you say anything, we're not on our way to the Capital, sweetheart. All will be explained." I look at Haymitch, studying his gray eyes, then to Peeta and his blue eyes. Peeta looks to be in better shape than the rest of us, aside from Haymitch and Plutarch.
"Peeta? What's going on?" I ask stepping over to where he is sitting, in front of a tray of food that hasn't been touched.
He looks at the broken syringe, then to me, and to the rest of the room. "We're going to District 13."
XXX
I sip at a glass of water, try to eat the food a nurse set out for me. Apple sauce and clear broth. What I ate after my first Games. The memories come flooding back. Cato, Clove, Foxface, Marvel, Glimmer, Thresh, Rue. The redheaded avox. All of them are dead. I don't know about the avox. She's most likely dead. Or was she spared?
Thinking of the Games makes me think of Peeta, and how I probably hurt him so badly. But, it was for both of our protection. It was part of the Games. And maybe here in District 13, things will be different. There won't be any more cameras - if I decide not to be the MockingJay. Which right now, I really don't want to. Peeta just agreed with me, saying I had been through so much already. Which I have. I don't even really know why they want me to be their MockingJay, when Peeta is so much more qualified for the job. I haven't really asked anyone what being the MockingJay entails, all I know is what I overheard. I told Peeta about it, but when I did he started looking uncomfortable, like he knew something I didn't. He probably does, being that I am "too unstable" to cope with the facts, according to Haymitch.
After I am done eating, I press the call button on my hospital bed. A nurse comes in, looking sweet and girly, while looking exhausted and annoyed.
"I wish to see Gale Hawthorne." I demand. She nods, then exits the door way. I lean my head back on my pillow, lacing my fingers together across my belly. A few moments later, I see a tall figure enter the room out of the corner of my eye. "Gale?"
" Hey, Catnip." I hear him say.
I look up at him, unintentionally smiling. "How is everyone in 12?" I ask hopefully.
"Katniss..." Gale warns.
"What?"
"District 12..." He hesitates, then says, "There is no District 12."
My eyes open wide as I swallow dryly. "Wha- what do you mean?"
"The Capital... sent firebombs. I got as many people out as I could, around 800. But, that's only a third of District 12. I was able to get our families." He says, obviously remembering the terror.
I take in the horror, but manage to say, "What about Madge and her family?" I ask, concerned for my friend.
"I didn't see her. I'm sorry." He says. Something in his eyes tells me he's more hurt by this than I am. But I thought he didn't like Madge. I decide not to comment on this, but to interrogate him about it later.
"That's too bad. She was sweet. She didn't deserve that, even if she did have a lot of advantages." I say.
"Neither did the rest of the District." Gale says defensively.
"No, they didn't." I agree. "What about the Bakers? Peeta's family?"
"Their shop took the first bomb. They're all dead." Gale thinks a moment. "Tell Peeta I'm sorry."
"I will." I promise.
