Katniss' POV
My eyes flash open, making my vision blurry. There's a constant pounding in my head that breaks through the grogginess along with the pressure of someone's arm wrapped around me; Peeta. His presence is comforting, an almost necessary sense of security, like a blanket. I'd enjoy it if not for the constant throbbing pain. I keep my eyes closed, trying to ignore the discomfort. The rhythmic sound of Peeta's breathing is…unfamiliar, strange. His touch is familiar, but at the same time, it's not. It still makes me feel safe, but my mind doesn't register it as him. Familiar but unfamiliar.
I glance down at the arm that has been placed around me. It's pale, too pale to be Peeta's. My heart skips a beat, it has to be a trick of the light, it has to be. For the first time since waking up, I look around my side of the room, but it's not the bedroom I've known for years, not even close. From what I can see in the dim lighting, it's just a featureless black room, empty except for the bed and the people in it. A knot twists in my stomach as I dare to strain to see who's lying beside me. I beg silently for it to be Peeta, that I'm just losing my mind again, but somehow I know that I'm not, it's more than that.
In an instant I'm on my feet, free from a strange man's grasp. His eyes flash open, they're a deep, chilling blue, odd and dreamlike. They appear startled, worried, concerned even. He watches me, shocked, as I press my back against the cold dark wall, searching for a door. The hammering in my head slows me down, but I can still process what's going on around me.
He throws off his blanket and I flinch, refusing to meet his piercing eyes and pale body. Hesitantly, he steps onto the floor, I fumble for a doorknob, anything really, but nothing's there. My gaze shifts to him standing up, considering his option. His appearance makes me stop dead; his body, pale with a lanky yet muscular frame, lacks a shred of clothing. That's when I realize, neither do I. I shudder, unable to make another movement. He takes another step towards me, his muscles taut but his actions wary.
"Tris?" he asks in a silent whisper.
I shake my head, "Who are you?"
He abandons his hesitance and comes over, wrapping his arms tightly around me. He begins to coo that girl's name over and over, moving my now-short hair away from my neck. Before I know what I'm doing, my elbow connects with his nose and he backs away, holding his hand up to his nose, stunned.
"Who are you?" I repeat, my tone more forceful this time.
"You know who I am, Tris. Stop this. Stop it right now."
Anger wells up inside of me, my hands ball into fists. He goes rigid. "No, I don't know who you are. Now tell me your name."
He watches me, hands at his sides. His expression is blank, but I know he is as confused as I am, unsure of what's going on, what to make of this.
"Tris, it's Four." He says tentatively.
My eyes narrow, focusing on him, "Why are you calling me Tris, Four?"
The amount of poison in my voice is obvious now; I make no effort to hide it, there's no point.
"It's your name."
"I'm not Tris."
"Then who are you?" he asks skeptically, his body shifting into a different stance, showing he's on edge.
"I am Mockingjay."
It's too much for Four to handle. I thought he would've known who I am by that, but even if he knew who the Mockingjay is, I certainly don't appear to be the same girl. He thinks I'm his beloved, but I'm not. His movement is too quick for me to stop it. His fingers lock around my throat and he slams me into the wall with all his strength. The wind is knocked out of me and I'm in too much shock fight him, his grip tightens around my neck as lifts me up in the air. I struggle to breathe as I find the will to thrash against his hold.
"Who are you?!" he demands, voice filled with rage, eyes burning with hatred, "Who are you and what have you done with Tris?!" Tobias slams me against the wall repeatedly, not allowing me to catch my breath. He's lost his mind all of a sudden, no rationality within him. My vision goes hazy again, my thoughts mar together as I run out of oxygen. I'm vaguely aware of him dropping me, of crumpling on the ground.
A spasm of coughing leaves my lips as he looms over me, the look of a madman in his eyes. Four reaches for me again but I shrink away, back into the wall.
"Who are you?!" he screams into my ear, starting to shake me violently, "What have you done with her?!"
My head hits the wall repeatedly, I'm unable to form enough words, but as the world fades to black I manage to force one slurred word, "Katniss."