Author's Notes:
First of all, I'd like to thank jennagill for reading my first tidbit and encouraging me to go for it. And thanks to Loueze and Chele20035 for pre-reading. And finally Titania522/ct522 for being a wonderful beta! Thank you all for your support. Of course, I own none of this, Suzanne Collins has that distinction.
This idea came to me one day and I couldn't let it go. I don't know if anyone else has written a story where Katniss is convicted of shooting Coin, but it got me thinking what if... So, here we go, what if...
District 12: The Homecoming
Katniss stepped off of the train, satchel in hand, and took a deep breath. After 5 years in District 10, she was finally home. She thought of another time she'd arrived in 12 on a train. There was cheering and celebration. She and Peeta had just won the 74th Games and they were the newest Victor's in the District. It was quite the homecoming.
Today's was the exact opposite. There were no speeches, no cheering crowds. Just people going about their daily labors. The morning rush had just begun and people were hustling to and fro on their way to their work and their daily routines. She found herself jostled by other passengers disembarking and realized she needed to move on.
She waited to be instructed in what to do next, then remembered. Her guards had stayed on the train as she departed. With a welcoming smile on their faces, they delivered their charge. She was finally free, well sort of. Finally able to come and go as she pleased, within limits. Her debt to society had been paid off not only by the sweat of her brow, but by the muscles on her back.
For the umpteenth time since leaving District 10, she looked at the terms of her release:
-She is to live in District 12 for the rest of her days.
-She may not leave the District without special permission from the ruling bodies of both District 12 and the Capitol.
-She is not allowed to work within the District for at least 1 year, although she is allowed to keep her earnings as a Victor.
-She is not allowed any weapons, therefore she is not allowed to hunt.
-While she is allowed access to the forest surrounding the District, she must report to her parole officer whenever she leaves.
-Her parole officer must know her whereabouts at all times.
-Any violation of these terms would have her sent back to the Capitol permanently.
She took another quick look around. Not wanting to make eye contact with anyone, she lowered her gaze, and headed to her home in Victors Village.
It didn't take long for her house to come in to view. It looked the same, but still different. She couldn't place why. In her absence, the property had been kept neat and tidy. The color was still the same. It didn't look like it had been abandoned, it looked just like it had been patiently waiting for her to return.
As she stared, she saw a flash of orange out of the corner of her eye. Buttercup? Yes, definitely Buttercup, only a shinier, cleaner version. The cat came up to her, sniffed, then turned around and walked away without even a hiss to greet her. "Well, that's one introduction over with," she thought.
As she stepped up on to the porch, she looked over to the side of the house, noticing some flowers blowing in the breeze. "Roses? Who would have the nerve? Were they still following her? Where is he? I thought he was dead? Did they leave me here at Snow's mercy?"
Panic spread through her. She began to sweat, her heart pounding, and her breath coming out in short puffs. Then she remembered. No, Snow was gone. It's a new world. No one will bother her like that again. She took several deep breaths, wiped her hands on her jeans, and focused on the door in front of her until she felt her heart slowing down.
So, what kind of flowers? She looked at the flowers again. Not roses. Primroses. Someone planted primroses on the side of her house. But why? It seemed to be a while ago by the looks of them. They were healthy, and definitely well established. A sad, bittersweet smile spread across her face. Primrose. Had it been 5 years? Oh, how she had missed her sister. How she missed her still. The ache wasn't as constant. But every so often, the truth of it all hit her.
There were times, early on in her sentence, that she would imagine conversations with Prim. "You did the right thing, Katniss. It's just a little while and you'll be going home." Those were the thoughts that kept her going. Maybe they didn't keep her completely sane, but at least they kept her functioning.
She wondered who planted the flowers. Her mother? No, certainly not her. Last she knew, her mother was living in 4, working at the hospital there. She knew her mother had checked up on her, but as part of her sentence, she wasn't allowed contact with family or friends. She wondered if anyone else ever asked about her. Or did they just get on with their own lives, grateful to be relieved of the duty of taking care of the Mockingjay? Should she call her mother now? Was it too late? Would it ever be the right time? She couldn't think about that now. That was for later. Right now, she needed to get inside and get settled. It was time to begin the rest of her life, such as it was.
As she stepped into her house and dropped her satchel. She noticed it had been kept neat and clean. Everything was still in its place. There were pictures on the mantle, flowers on the table, it looked lived in and loved. She smelled something, like a stew simmering on the stove.
Following the scent, she stepped into the kitchen, and automatically realized that she had made a mistake. She noticed someone standing over a pot. "Maybe I shouldn't be here. Maybe this isn't my house anymore? Maybe I was wrong. Dammit!" She really had no clue what she was doing anymore. Panic began to set in. She needed to get it together, and quick. Greasy Sae turned around, looked her up and down, "Welcome home girl! We've missed you!"
And for the first time in 5 years, Katniss allowed herself to feel. As the tears rolled down her cheeks, as the sobs wracked her body, Katniss fell to the ground, overcome by the enormity of all that had happened.