The Mockingjay of District 13
* Sequel to Running Right Into The Fire. It is suggested that you read that before this as many things will not make sense. Enjoy!
District 13 is my home now.
But I don't know if home is the right word. My family is there, my mother and Prim. They are safe there and I am eternally grateful for that. But I did not grow up there. I did not make memories there. It is nothing to me.
Haymitch and Plutarch took me and Finnick there from the hovercraft. It turned out to be just one more thing that Haymitch had neglected to tell me and Peeta – that District 13 has been thriving underground since Panem attempted to wipe them off the map. That it was the base for a second rebellion, one that I was supposed to lead. Except I wouldn't really be the leader, just the puppet, a pawn. A figurehead for people to believe in. What a joke. I didn't even believe in myself.
I stand in the rubble of what used to be my home. I have walked through piles of bone dust, remains of all of the people dead because of me. Snow killed them because we all defied him once again. Because we dared to survive.
"You shouldn't be here sweetheart." I don't answer him or look at him. It has become difficult since he betrayed me. "We have to keep you alive."
I can't resist. "Because I'm the mockingjay, right?" I say bitterly. The word has become like acid in my mouth. "I have to be protected at all costs."
He snorts. "It's true Katniss. For as many people that want to die for you, there are so many who wouldn't hesitate in handing you over to Snow in a second." He kicks at a piece of rubble. "A lot of people are willing to die for you, like they were in the arena. You just have to give them something to die for."
Something to die for. Why should anyone else die for me? Why should they lose their lives just so I can live the half-existence I do now? I am not the mockingjay. I never was. They should have saved Peeta, and his words. He's the one who could convince everyone to follow him into battle. He's the one who could rouse the districts with an inspiring speech. I can't do that. And they all know I can't. They are just waiting to force words in my mouth. To make me something I am not.
"What are we doing Haymitch?" I ask, my eyes running over the ruins of the table where we used to sit for dinner. "It's been three weeks. Why don't we do something?"
He sighs, stumbling forward to stand next to me. "It's too risky Katniss. We need to wait for the right time."
"When's the right time?" I scream. "When they're both dead?"
Haymitch stands there, taking the brunt of my screaming. A few guards that I recognise from 13 enter from behind him. "You need to go back Katniss. Don't come here again," he says wearily. The guards behind him gesture for me to follow them and reluctantly I do. They bring me back to the hospital in 13, where my mother has been working since we relocated. When she sees me with the guards, she sighs.
"Did she escape again?" she asks, looking up from the patient she attends to.
One of the guards behind me nods. "She left her bed this morning and snuck out to 12. Again."
My mother's eyes fill with sympathy. I shrug at her, no explanation coming to me. She knows me. She knows that no matter what they all tell me, I will not listen to any of them. 12 will always have a part of me.
"Just – just take her back to her bed," my mother says quietly. She reaches for my hand as I pass and our palms graze against each other's. She doesn't understand my need to return to a place with so many bad memories but that doesn't mean she will not sympathise with me. It does not mean she doesn't love me and want only the best for me.
They take me back to my room, where Finnick is sitting on my bed. The way his legs are crossed, I can see up his nightgown – a view I never really wanted to see.
I put my hands over my eyes. "Put your legs down Finnick," I tell him.
"Oh sorry," he says absentmindedly, lowering his legs. I peek through my eyes to make sure the coast is clear before going to my bed. I give him a shove and he takes the hint, climbing off and going to the seat in the corner. I stretch out on my bed, my head against my pillow and stare up at the ceiling.
"Break out again?" he asks.
"Yep," I answer. I hook myself slowly back up to all the machines I am supposed to be plugged into twenty four/seven. My morphling drip. The heart rate monitor. The needle that forces nutrients into me that I haven't been getting; I've been refusing the slop they serve us here in 13, despite my mother and Prim's begging. I'd rather live off the raw animals Gale and I used to hunt back in 12.
All of my burns and wounds are pretty much healed. The doctors here in 13 stitched up my arm and forehead, though they didn't do as good a job that the doctors in the Capitol would have done. Not that I care. They were originally going to just sew up my side too but they realised I had caught an infection so they had to perform an emergency surgery to remove my gall bladder. That was three days after we landed in 13.
"You know they're just gonna catch you. Why do you do it?" he asks, his green eyes staring into space.
"The same reason why you cry Annie's name in your sleep. You need her. I need 12."
"You don't need 12 Katniss," he says in reply. "You need Peeta and Gale back."
He's right but I don't say a thing. We make a good pair, Finnick and I. Both of us are stark crazy, broken by the disappearances of those we love. The Capitol has Peeta, Gale and Annie in their grasps, along with Johanna and Enobaria. Both of us are desperate to get them back but no one seems to understand that, except us.
"What do you think they're doing with them?" he asks after a moment of silence.
Torturing them. Causing them horrific pain. Because of us. Because of our defiance.
Finnick buries his head in his hands, not waiting for an answer, tears falling through his fingers. "Oh Annie. I'm so sorry Annie."
I feel for Finnick. I may be a little messed up but he's been toyed with by The Capitol a lot longer than I have. He's completely lost his mind, been a totally different person since we came back. It's like the person I met in the arena was just a mask. He is really the lost little boy who won the Games so long ago. He's the young man who fell in love with the girl he was to mentor, to keep alive. He's the man who is now haunted by losing her.
I unplug myself from my needles and hop off my bed to stand by Finnick, rubbing his shoulders as he cries, hunched over in his lap. I am not good at this comforting thing. If Peeta or Prim were here, they would know what to say, what to do. Finnick stands suddenly, and wraps me up in a huge hug. He actually manages to lift me off the ground and I let him squeeze me as tight as he wants, despite the ache in my body. "I miss her so much Katniss," he whispers, and I can feel his tears dropping into my hair.
"I know," I whisper back, and he holds me for a very long time.
When Finnick has been taken back to his own bed, I curl up under the covers. I do not sleep. I cannot, because Peeta is waiting under my eyelids. Gale is waiting, to scream at me that it is all my fault that they took him. That he would be better off if I had never met him.
A couple of hours pass in the blink of an eye. Then someone is pulling back the curtain, peering in curiously at me. It is Hazelle Hawthorne.
I haven't seen her since Haymitch informed me that her and her family had been some of the survivors that made it out of 12. In truth, I hoped I wouldn't have to face her after her son had been taken essentially because of me.
"I'm not bothering you, am I?" she asks quietly. I shake my head and she enters hesitantly, settling into a chair beside my bed. She looks different since I last saw her. Her face is rounder, her body fuller. She has been well fed here in 13.
I don't know where to start. I'm not sure if I can. We sit in awkward silence, Hazelle intertwining her fingers together and me sitting up in bed, pretending to readjust my pillows.
"How are you feeling?" she finally asks, a hint of a smile on her face.
"Better," I say, though right now I feel like I could pass out or vomit. Or both.
"Good, good." I take a deep breath in. Any minute now she's going to mention Gale or the baby and I am not going to know what to say. What answer can I give that will satisfy her?
"I hate to ask you Katniss, I – I really do but….." I close my eyes as she trails off, my breathing becoming shaky. "I need to talk about Gale."
There it is.
"You don't have to say anything," she says quickly. "You can just nod or shake your head and I'll talk." Sounds like a plan. I'm not sure I could form coherent words anyway.
She stares down at her hands and I wait for her first question, my eyes still closed. "The baby – was it Gale's?"
My heart picks up speed in my chest. Slowly, I nod my head up and down. I hear a tiny cry escape Hazelle's throat and my eyes open. She is struggling not to cry. She sees me staring at her and reaches out for my hand. "I'm sorry about the miscarriage," she says and I bite back a sob. Her sorry is most unnecessary. I do not deserve it.
"It's okay," I say in a voice barely above a whisper. "It's okay."
She sniffs and seems to regain her composure. "Did you – do you love my son?"
It feels like someone has punched me in the stomach, taken all of the wind out of me. A nod or a shake of my head will not suffice. I must tell her. Explain to her how I broke her son's heart.
"I don't know if I did," I say softly. "He means so much to me but he's just – he's not – "
"He's not Peeta," she finishes and I cannot even look at her anymore. My hand slips from hers and I retreat to the farthest side of my bed as I can. Any minute she's going to start yelling at me for destroying her son.
But she doesn't. She throws her head back over her chair and breaths loudly through her mouth, processing everything. "He was practically ripping the house apart when he saw you and Peeta together on television," she says quietly, and there is an hard edge to her voice. "Did you ever think about him for a moment while you were in there? While you miscarried his baby? While you kissed Peeta?"
"Stop," I beg her, closing my palms over my ears. This is worse than yelling. The quiet, measured anger and disappointment in a woman I have always respected. All of my nightmares flood back to me – Gale and Peeta screaming in pain, begging to be killed, mutts tearing at their skin. I start to thrash in my bed as the images become too hard to push out. I hear footsteps and Hazelle is being pushed out of the room by all the doctors and nurses that swarm in. They're holding me down but I won't stop struggling. I won't stop fighting.
"Peeta!" I scream, the word I have left unspoken for the last few months releasing from my throat like it will not be held back any longer. "Gale! I'll save….so sorry….." They've injected me with something, words no longer fluidly coming out of my mouth. My vision begins to swim but I see Haymitch hovering over me, regarding me with pity. I lurch forward with my last inch of strength and grab at his shirt to hold myself up.
"I will never forgive you," I tell him before everything in me goes limp and I drop back down to my bed, sinking like a stone in the water.
My induced sleep is nightmare free, such a change from my usual night's sleep. I am coming to, my head still woozy when Finnick enters my room and tries to pull me out of bed.
"What are you doing?" I mumble, as he unhooks me and lifts me into his arms, carrying me from the room.
He barely looks down at me as he attempts to run down the hall holding me. "Ceaser Flickerman is on television. He's talking with Peeta and Gale."
So, did you like it?