Hello! This is my first fanfiction, and it's a fanfiction of a fanfiction of the Hunger Games. This is my attempt at the final chapter of The Wild Ones, by an author named green and yellow. It is fantastic, beautiful, breathtaking. Unfortunately, she has passed away and the story has been left unfinished for six years. Read it before you read this one. It had two out of the three planned chapters. There was going to be one part left, but I'm going to split my sequel into two chapters. I also have the same M rating, for language, sex references, and self-harming.
I should also mention that another fanfiction author, xx itz ella xx, attempted the sequel. Unfortunately, she passed away too. This won't be like hers, this is my own interpretation of green and yellow's. But you should check out Ella's- I really liked her take on it!
A quick recap- Katniss and Cato made it out of the arena in the 74th Hunger Games, but to soothe the rebellious districts, Snow forces them into a fake romance. Katniss becomes pregnant, but they are thrust into the Quarter Quell. It ends with an explosion.
I'm sure that this is not how it turned out (in the original author's plan) but I wanted to put a spin on it. I can't write as well as green and yellow can, nor as well as Suzanne Collins. Green and yellow also had a poetic and sorrowful way of writing that I, try as I might, can never duplicate. I should also add that I do not own The Hunger Games, nor do I own green and yellow's fanfiction storyline. There is going to be a bit of overlap for Suzanne Collins' Mockingjay.
Without further ado: my take on green and yellow's The Hunger Games fanfiction!
The Wild Ones
Part III: Lost in the Fire
(what happens to hope)
mon feu
Katniss fights to keep her eyes open, to stay up, head and arm throbbing. She is propped against a wall, a mockingly white, shining wall. As she becomes more aware of her surroundings, she realizes. It grips her heart with a cold clenching of nerves, makes her chest constrict. The wall is a Capitol wall.
With a shriek of horror, she looks around. Johanna shares the cell with her, no visible trace of harm on her. Cato are in the cell next to theirs. They all wear thin white pants and a thin white shirt.
They are in the Capitol.
Katniss' shriek has woken up Cato, the Career who sleeps lightly. His icy eyes are open, and what she sees chills her to the bone.
Cato's eyes are open, and they are afraid.
Katniss moves next to touch her stomach, which surprises her. She had done nothing but hate her baby. She thinks she's lost it in the electrical shock- the raining embers, the sparks and ash- but then she feels it kick, and something in her gut loosens. But then it tightens again. It is cruel of her to bring it here, for the torture that it awaits, for the agony it will feel. It was cruel of her not to die already, for surely they will die here. She would be foolish to think that she can walk out unscathed.
Finnick and Beetee and Haymitch aren't there. She hopes that means they got out. She prays that they got out.
"Katniss."
Katniss looks up, and Cato is staring at her. She feels dull.
"I'm sorry," he whispers.
She blinks. "Why?"
His throat bobs. "I told you that I would get you out alive. I told you I would protect you, and here we are."
She's shaking her head. "Here we are. You're alive too," she reminds him. "If we ever get out of here, the baby needs it's father."
"How sweet," a voice coos. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you two really cared about each other. It's fine, there are no cameras here."
Katniss and Cato turn, in sync. It's hard to tell whose eyes are more full. Full of tears and murder. "Let us go, you son of a bitch," Cato growls.
"You realize, Mr. Embry," Snow says in that smooth way of his, "that when you say that, you are not insulting me. You're insulting my mother." He speaks as if they are strolling through a garden. "Of course, she was a bitch so I killed her."
Katniss thinks about all the times she's cursed her mother, even hated her. To dislike a mother is understandable, but to kill her? Unthinkable.
But then another voice breaks through her consciousness. You're a killer, too, it chides her.
Johanna has awoken. The victors stare at Snow, who keeps them in suspense. Finally, he says, "You were all injected with a grain of poison. Trackers, collars, and identifications are all in it. If you try to exit, try to escape, you'll die. I have the remote that will trigger it." He tries to smile kindly. "From now on, you are no longer tributes. You are no longer rebels. You are my victors. Miss Mason, you'll start your nightly duties. Miss Everdeen, Mr. Embry, you'll continue your show. You will squash any whisper of rebellion. Convince me that you are happy and grateful." He starts towards the exit. "Oh, and in the meantime, you'll be asked a few questions. Just like the interviews."
They were not like interviews. They were interrogations. The three victors spent the night on the hard floor, each in uneasy slumber. When Snow comes to their cells in the morning, he stands there like a child in a sweetshop, giddy and overwhelmed. "Miss Mason," he says. "Won't you come with me."
Snow waves his wrist over the lock on Katniss and Johanna's cell. They all hear the click echo throughout the room. Cato tenses, but he stays seated. Johanna stands, and her lithe figure follows the president out of the room.
They can all hear her screaming, and they fight, despite their differences from the arena. Oh, they fight. They pound on the walls and rattle the bars. And after wrenching hours, when their voices are hoarse, Johanna walks back in. Snow follows. "We'll try again, Miss Mason, when you seem a bit more cooperative."
Johanna slumps down. Katniss sees in her eyes that she knows something, she knows why they're there. But she doesn't ask- she can't, because surely the place is bugged. And besides, the more information she has, the more information she might give away.
"Mr. Embry. Miss Everdeen," Snow says. "It's your turn."
He swipes his wrist over her cell and she stands up robotically. She knows they won't kill her. They need her as a pawn. They won't kill her.
Snow brings them to a different room, where six Peacekeepers are waiting. They bolt her to a chair, and five guards take hold of Cato's arms. Snow nods to the sixth Peacekeeper, who brings the point of his shiny silver knife to her neck and drags it slowly down her spine, slicing open her shirt and leaving a shallow cut. Uniform and straight. She gasps, the blade hard and cold. The blood trickles down her back. "Now, Miss Everdeen, you can tell me what you know and you will not have to experience that kind of pain," Snow says.
"I don't know anything," she snaps. "And if I did, I wouldn't tell you."
The knife plunges in deeper. She screams.
Cato lurches forward, but is held back by the guards. "Stop," he commands, as if he is the one in charge. "Stop. Take me instead."
Katniss bites her lip, so as not to scream again from the stab. It's shallow, but the knife is laced with a chemical. How will she survive months or years of this? If not from physical pain, then surely from mental.
"And why would I do that, Mr. Embry?" he asks patronizingly.
Cato's body tenses. His face is impassive, but his eyes are defiant. "Please," he says. "She's pregnant."
The president blinks. "How noble."
Cato doesn't know it, but he's damned them further. Now Snow knows that they are valuable. One more life.
"Bow," says Snow. "Show me that you really want this to happen."
"Cato," Katniss calls. "Don't beg. I can take this."
Cato looks from her to Snow. He drops to his knees. Katniss watches as the brute from the Hunger Games, the Career that she had once feared, the victor she had once resented, the hardened killing machine bred for slaughter, kneel on her behalf. On his knees for her.
She is released from her binds. Cato takes her place. Only two guards grip her arms, which is almost an insult. They cut their knives into him. Cato grunts, but doesn't yell or beg. He closes his eyes, teeth grinding, but stays impassive. He keeps his eyes on her. Katniss suspects that he truly doesn't know anything, but doesn't want to give up his pride. Snow asks questions nonetheless, but gets nothing in return. His pride is going to be the death of him. Literally.
One particularly deep insert of the knife leaves Cato sweating. "You sick bastard," he grinds out.
"Just answer the questions, Mr. Embry, and this will all stop," Snow says, almost kindly.
Katniss is shaking, wide-eyed, as she thrashes against the guards. Finally, Snow clicks his tongue in disappointment and nods to the guards. "Take them to get fixed up. We'll try again later."
They have their wounds sealed, their bodies polished from faceless Capitol surgeons. Katniss and Cato are escorted back to their cell. Johanna sits up as they see them enter. Johanna rolls her eyes, but her brow is furrowed. "You really care about each other." It isn't a question.
Neither of them reply.
Johanna scowls. "They're going to stop healing you eventually, you know."
Katniss barely acknowledges her. Johanna continues. "At least you don't have to screw a Capitol fool every night."
Katniss nods, not looking up. Johanna huffs out a breath, irritated at the lack of attention. "Is your baby going to be as bitchy as you?"
Cato's head snaps up, but before he can say a word, Katniss is in front of Johanna and slaps her as hard as she can across the face.
The crack echoes.
Johanna is sputtering, eyes wide, but a ghost of a grin flickers on Cato's face.
Johanna lowers a hand from her flaming-red face. She opens her mouth. "Damn."
They are brought meals twice a day, and let out of the cells once a day. They don't talk. They don't see the point. Katniss worries about Haymitch, about Prim, Gale, Rory, Vick, Posy, Hazelle. She thinks about Caia.
The weeks follow. They are cycled around for interrogations. Occasionally they are called for an interview with Caesar Flickerman, or a propaganda commercial. Katniss and Cato are sometimes taken together. When they're not, Katniss keeps her head pressed to the wall, either in prayer or in solidarity. She doesn't know which.
She does know that she's never heard Cato scream.
He yells obscenities, or threats, or growls and snarls at their captors, but he's never screamed in pain. Come to think of it, the only time she's ever head him scream wasn't even his doing. It was behind the forcefield in the arena- from the jabberjays.
Her waiting time isn't idle. Her body aches and morphs and grows still. It needs air, she supposes on a day that it kicks her particularly. She mourns that she can't give it what it needs. She doesn't even know the gender of the baby.
She doesn't hope. Hope is for fools. Hope failed her after Prim got reaped. It failed her in the arena when Peeta died. It failed her when Rue died, when Snow forced her to lie to the nation, when she got pregnant, when she was reaped again. She knows it's too much.
Katniss nods. "Well, after the arena glitched, the Capitol didn't want any tributes to have an advantage, so they paused the Games. It was good of them to do that. I thought the wedding was cancelled when the Quarter Quell was announced, so to learn it was back on is quite a blessing. I've seen the preparations, and they're beautiful."
"So, Miss Everdeen," says the ever-smiling Caesar Flickerman. (She notices that he doesn't refer to her as the Girl on Fire anymore.) "We are all truly excited for your upcoming wedding with Mr. Embry. I almost died when I thought it was off. I would regret it for the rest of my life, not seeing this event of a century."
She hates that the Capitol citizens throw around the value in life so meaninglessly. Spoiled and stupid and frivolous. They think that they are entitled to their lives, when thousands have been killed for them to enjoy. It's about them, not the children. Always about them. But she raises her chin. "Yes," she responded. "I almost died, too."
Johanna sleeps at night. Cato and Katniss do not. "They're going to stop healing us after the wedding," Katniss says. She feels no resentment or fear. "Do you regret this?"
"What do you mean?" Cato asks. The dim light seems to illuminate the angles. He hasn't been affected, physically, from the detainment. That irks her, although she doesn't know why.
"Everything." She hesitates. "Agreeing to this, protecting me, winning the Games?"
He takes a few moments to think. "If it kept who I cared about safe, I didn't care. I was willing to be the monster they believed I was. And then, I didn't know what I was. But I don't regret it."
Katniss is struck by a strange flashback. She poured salt water on Cato's wounds in the arena, and she asked him what he was. "So far? Katniss Everdeen's bitch."
That was wrong. They are dogs. Pets, she supposes. They are Snow's pets. Barely thrown a scrap.
When they have been in the damned Capitol for a month, Katniss and Cato get married.
They have rehearsed it the day before, so Katniss isn't worried about messing up the performance. They were all taken from their cells and sent to bedrooms to prepare.
When Katniss opens the door to the room, she can't contain her tears. Effie Trinket stands, in radiant glory, as if she is the one getting married. "Katniss, Katniss," she trills, swooping her into a hug. "Flavius, Portia, and Octavia are dying to see you. Congratulations, my pearl."
Katniss is so relieved to see a familiar and friendly face. Suddenly, she is short of breath because she remembers Cinna, lovely Cinna, the one face she could have used in the Capitol. She nods at Effie, and her prep team descends on her. "Katniss," Portia clucks. "We had to create a new dress for you, since the design Cinna created was destroyed."
Katniss recalls the twirling and the smoke and the feathers, and almost feels comforted. She was- is- the Mockingjay.
The prep team chatter brightly (she suspects it's just their excitement about being invited to an elite event) as they arrange her hair, polish her body, and dress her as if she is a prize. Her dress isn't a monstrosity of ruffles and tulle; no, it is a long dress that accentuates her six-months pregnant body. Her headpiece is a band of pearl, stretching across her temple.
It looks demure and elegant. However, it pinches and squeezes her- the laced-up inner shell can be classified as a corset. She is willing to bet that President Snow ordered it under the knowledge that she would hate it. And she does.
She sits on the edge of the bed, awaiting her fate. The corset doesn't alter her body at all- it's just there for the sole purpose of making her uncomfortable.
She is surprised when someone knocks on the door. "Come in," she calls, not wanting to get up for fear of keeling over.
Cato steps in the room, dressed in a black tuxedo. He lingers in the doorway, until Katniss pats the space next to her.
"How are you?" he asks.
"Lace yourself in my corset and then I'll ask how you're doing," she says, but there's hardly any bite to it.
He smirks. "Glad to see you haven't lost that fire."
Katniss nods. "I just wish it didn't have to end like this. Slaves to Snow's whims."
Cato's face has grown serious. "Prepare yourself for the performance of a lifetime. You'd better put on a hell of a show, Girl on Fire."
Her head whips around. "You know that's a banned name," she hisses.
He scoffs. "Come on, Fire Girl. You and I both know that this isn't just to calm the rebellion, as Snow says. It's about tethering you down. This wedding is the collar they put on you to show that no one is more powerful than them." He stands. "Don't trust the others."
Katniss is led from the room by President Snow, who stands in his white suit. His eyes gleam as he holds out his arm. They walk to the grand doors of one of their reception rooms. She supposes it looks sweet, but she would prefer Haymitch. She would prefer Brutus, even. A mutt. Anyone over Snow. Yet she steps delicately, eyes trained on Cato, who in turn keeps his eyes trained on her. Cameras, embedded on the walls, are on her every move, so she must look like a bride in love.
She tries. She tries not to sneer at the outrageous fashions- it's like they are trying to upstage her. The sheer gaudiness of the guests- none of whom she knows- never fails to surprise her. Katniss isn't sure how natural it looks, but how natural can it be when she's walking down the aisle on the arm of her enemy?
When they reach the end of the long walk, Snow kisses her forehead in what is meant to be fatherly, warm. But she flinches. And Snow's grip is just a bit too viselike as he takes her hand and places it in Cato's.
The ceremony begins. They have a mix of traditions, which reminds her of home. They have a toasting of bread (brought out on a gold platter, which dilutes the modest origin). In District 12, Katniss never pictured herself with the toasting fork, not even with Gale. It was meant to signify a new life, but she didn't want to leave her old one behind. Katniss bites her bread, and watches Cato do the same.
The custom from Two is performed. A simple dagger is brought out. Katniss thinks of the knives piercing her skin and stiffens, but she grasps the hilt all the same and slices a thin cut into her hand. She entwines her hand, bleeding, with Cato's, and they forge a blood bond, meant to symbolize solidarity and commitment. Because for District Two, the most vicious of tributes, the most hearty of Capitol supporters, loyalty is valued over other morals.
Katniss and Cato kiss, and she reaches up to cup the side of his face with her hand. She knows that will look sweet. He is gripping her waist. The thunderous cheers of the audience remind her that every move is a play. Every move.
She wishes Prim was there.
The newlyweds cut the perfect cake, a Capitol confectionary masterpiece. She smiles and laughs, but her chest constricts. Her hand is shaken and kissed by too many people, but her other hand is occupied by Cato's. Even then, she is grateful for the comfort. She dances the first dance, cameras capturing every single moment. The citizens of the Capitol chitter and coo at the happy couple.
She spots Johanna over Cato's shoulder. She is sitting in a corner, drinking a wine goblet and scowling at anyone who dares come near her.
Katniss wonders what it would be like, to turn to drink. It could have been easy. She could have stopped caring. She could rely on the steady and dreamy haze of alcohol, erase the ghosts that followed her, escape from reality. But she loved Prim too much, and now she has a baby. She had found out some interesting news the week before.
"It's a boy," she tells Cato later that night, in the silence of their new bedroom. "When I was being healed, one of the operators told me."
He stops tugging his tie. "It's a boy," he says, slowly.
"Yes." Katniss stares at him, uncertain. What will he make of this?
"I don't want him to end up like me," he says in a rush. "Given the circumstances, it would be fucking stupid to hope, but this is his life and look what we've done for him."
Katniss nods. "We're terrible parents."
And something about that statement, so mundane, so trivial, as if they are lamenting over a typical parenting failure, yet so true in the extreme regards, is enough to make them both smile. Just a bit.
She unzips her dress, turning away, because she is still modest, and shy about being naked in front of other people. But she can't reach around to unlace her damned corset.
Cato comes up behind her and tugs on the strings. "They really made you wear that," he muses. "I thought you were just exaggerating."
Katniss lets out a sigh of relief as she massages her crushed ribs. She moves her hand over her stomach, feeling the baby kick and shift. "Why would I complain over something so meaningless?"
He rolls his eyes. "Yes, I forgot how selfless you are, Fire Girl."
She rolls her eyes back at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"You couldn't leave Beetee behind. You risked your life for Rue. You volunteered for your sister. That goes against everything we were taught, training as a Career. If it lowers your odds, don't do it."
"Yes," she retorts. "But taking risks for others also keeps a bit of humanity."
They sleep, his hand on her stomach as they did in the arena.
Weeks pass. They do a commercial for Snow again, as a happy couple. They smile at the camera, hold hands, prattle about the merciful Capitol. Cato kisses her forehead. And then they are taken away. They haven't been tortured for quite a bit, but they haven't seen Johanna since the wedding.
The Capitol has figured out that Katniss and Cato care for and about each other. They aren't stupid enough to torture Katniss physically, because she might miscarry, and that would ruin their propaganda plans. So they separate them with a forcefield, and the simulations begin.
Katniss sees her baby burned up in flames, her sister's mangled form, Gale's broken body being cremated. She sees Caia's wheelchair on a tribute plate, Cato walking to a shadowy room where a woman lounges. She sees Haymitch keel over from too much drink, and even Effie, pulling name after name from the glass bowl and sending her into the Games again. She also relives some of the terrors- Cinna being smashed into the glass tube; Rue being impaled, large eyes fearful of impending death; Peeta, blood streaming.
She is screaming, barely aware of anything. Snow shouts questions over her screams to Cato, but he doesn't know anything. And then the thoughts go away, and she slumps down.
Cato is being belted down to a chair, straps holding him in place. Are they electrocuting him? No. Much worse.
She remembers, from weeks ago, Johanna describing this sort of pain, eyes bleak and haunted. She told them of knife-sharp, blindingly hot, burning power being injected into her.
Cato roars, his powerful body thrashing in agony. Now she's seen him scream. She's only seen this kind of fear once before- in the Capitol. She punches the thick field. "Stop it! STOP IT!" she screams at Snow. "We truly don't know anything! Please!"
At least they haven't refused Snow anything. At least this isn't punishment. It could be worse. It could be worse.
She watches him jerk in a cruel dance, and thoughts come back to her. Him volunteering for the Quarter Quell, volunteering to keep her safe. Carrying her through the poisonous fog. Giving her the sponsor gifts meant for him. Pulling her through the mud, taking on the Careers.
And then she realizes that she does care about him. Truly.
His body is limp. Katniss waits, breaths slowing, and sobs with relief as he twitches.
She's not one for sentimentality, but Cato is her anchor. The flint stone to keep her alive- mentally, emotionally, physically.
Cato can't move from their bedroom (more than a prison than their cell- they cannot pretend that everything is normal when it is not) for several days. On the fifth day, he can speak again. He gets no medicine, no technology, no healing. He must work off the effects on his own. He has kept his physique from the two months they have been at the Capitol by exercising in the cells, and it has helped him. He relies on his pure strength as he stands up. The results of the torture linger.
After a week, in which Katniss has been psychologically tortured, the power in Cato's veins are gone. "I was in pain, and then it stopped," he informs Katniss when they wake up. "When are they going to fucking realize that we don't know a fucking thing?"
Katniss shrugs. "I'm sorry," she says.
His hand grips her wrist. "Don't apologize," he says gruffly. "Don't. Once you do, they'll have won. They want to break you. Don't break, Fire Girl."
Katniss wakes up. She doesn't know how long they have been in the Capitol. She feels hollow.
Is this how she would feel if she was a Capitol prostitute? If she had went to Cray, the old Peacekeeper who bought girls for a night? Trapped in a vicious cycle, a slave to the Capitol either way.
She walks to the bathroom. She looks in the mirror. Her eyes look sunken in, her skin ashen. She looks tired and sick.
And suddenly, she cries. She starts off quiet, but she shuts the door so she won't wake up Cato. She cries for her child, for the children, for Prim, for Rue, for Caia, for Posy, Vick, Rory, for herself. She lets her shoulders shake, she lets her whole body quake for the unfairness of it all. She lets herself sob for all she is worth.
She slumps against the wall, dragging a hand over her eyes and covering her mouth. Katniss has only known pain. And she cries for her past and for her future, and wonders if she will ever know a better life.
She takes a ragged breath. When she looks up, she sees Cato leaning against the doorframe, expression uncertain. She wipes her eyes, embarrassed, and Cato lowers down against the wall next to her.
He doesn't say anything. They sit and mourn, listen to each other's breathing.
She sits on the train's plush couch. District Four is tomorrow. They're almost done. She had woken up from her nightly horrors, and decided she needed a fresh view. Her monthly cycles are almost done, and she dreads being locked in the shadowy room again.
She glances up when a clattering sound resonates throughout the train. Haymitch stumbles into the room to grab a flask and exits, running into the doorframe on the way out. A thought blooms in her mind. Katniss walks to the small bar and fingers the bottles, shaking a few to swirl the liquids inside. She reaches for one, and uncorks the top. As the bottle touches her lips, she looks up and jolts back.
Cato stands there, expression stormy in the dim lamplight. "Don't drink away your sorrows, Girl on Fire."
She sets down the drink a bit more forcefully than she should have. "Who are you to tell me what I can do?"
"Just don't." His face becomes harder to read, but his jaw clenches. Something lingers- sadness? Pity? "I know from experience. It will eat you alive."
Katniss and Cato are walking down the sprawling, plush hallway that has become their hell.
And the tranquil bubble that they had grown to live in was popped.
Katniss is brought back to the arena, when the forcefield exploded. Now the walls and the ceiling do the same. Rubble flies out, and a large silver hovercraft is descending. Katniss moves sluggishly, weighed down with her baby and with shock.
But Cato, ever-alert, grabs her wrist. Peacekeepers storm the hall- one takes out his baton and strikes Katniss against the head. Katniss' mind becomes hazy and she stumbles. Cato intercepts the blow when it comes to him and yanks it away. More Peacekeepers wrestle him away, and Katniss is struck again. She blacks away, feeling mere disappointment that their escape attempt was foiled.
Katniss's body aches. She picks up her heavy head, and meets the icy blue eyes that she has grown to trust. Right now they are frozen, guarded. "Hey, Fire Girl," he murmurs.
"Where are we?" she whispers, as if she's been screaming.
"We're on a hovercraft to District 13," he says. "I suspected it still existed, but..." His voice carries a hint of amazement.
"Who's here? That we know?" she's almost afraid to ask. She closes her eyes and prays it's-
"The drunk. Haymitch," he corrects, after seeing her glare. "Your family. Finnick Odair. Beetee. They also got Johanna out."
Katniss opens her eyes and thanks whatever stroke of luck she lives by. "Is-is your family here?" she asks, cautiously.
His throat bobs. "My father is here. Caia's here."
Katniss understands. His mother didn't make it. She knows what it's like to lost a parent.
Shouting occurs outside the room. Each bellow is a blow to Katniss's throbbing head. "I want to see her! Let me in!"
A soothing voice counters the familiar one. "Please, calm down, she's still in a precarious condition-"
"I don't care! I just wan-"
Gale's words are cut of as he barrels in the room. He stops short when he sees Katniss. "Hey, Catnip," he says. "Are you- okay?" his eyes flicker to her stomach.
She nods. "I'm fine. The baby's fine too."
Gale completely ignores Cato, who stands there silently. "What did they do to you?"
Katniss squeezes her eyes shut, so she won't relive the details. "Can you- leave, please? Check on Prim?" Katniss asks.
"Are you sure?" Gale asks. "I don't want to leave you in this room with this bastard."
Katniss sucks in a breath. She's seen this before- someone says something he doesn't agree with, Cato snaps. He will fly off the handle in a blind rage.
He doesn't. "She asked you," Cato says, voice low, "to leave."
Gale's eyes flicker. "Okay. I'll see you later, Catnip. Rest up."
Katniss sets her head back down. "Thank you."
A nurse comes in. "I'm sorry, Mr. Embry, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave so I may check on your wife."
Katniss still isn't used to that title. He gets up and leaves, but not before he looks back at Katniss, eyes full of uncertainty. The nurse checks her stats, conditions, and her baby. "Your eight-months-pregnant body is remarkably resilient," the nurse remarks. "Your body is aching because we had to run a cleansing solution through your body to get rid of any trackers or cameras. It didn't work well after the beating your body had taken. I am going to give you a morphling drip."
Katniss waits, and slowly, her pain eases.
"You're free to go now, my darling."
It has been so long since she has been shown any compassion from a stranger, any kind of sincere kindness. Katniss is worn out, exhausted, scared, and scarred, so she whispers "thank you" and leaves.
She doesn't know where she's heading, until she sees one of the faces she has been longing to see. Katniss nearly crumples when she sees him. "Haymitch," she sobs, throwing her arms around his neck.
He holds her as closely as he can, which isn't a lot since her body is carrying a baby. "Hey, sweetheart," he says. "We all missed you. Let's get you some food."
She notices, when she embraced him, that the bitter stench of liquor wasn't around him like she had been accustomed to. "How long have you been sober?" she asks as he leads her to the dining hall.
"No bloody alcohol in this place," he grumbles.
"What am I going to do, Haymitch?" she asks as they get in line for their meal.
"Well, sweetheart, that's up to you. You can live down here and die a District 13 citizen, or you can be the Mockingjay, the face of the rebellion, and actually change Panem. You can wait to have your baby and then do your rebellion thing."
"I hope I didn't escape from the Capitol after three months just for you to tell me to do my 'rebellion thing,'" she bites out.
"You have a meeting with a group later. Tomorrow you'll get your official schedule, but eat now and adjust to this. Find your sister," Haymitch says, sounding almost worried about her.
A man calls Haymitch away, and he squeezes her shoulder and walks away. Katniss picks up her tray and scans the massive hall. She moves slowly down the aisle, looking for the flash of blond hair.
"Katniss!"
Katniss sets her tray on the table, her hands shaking. She pulls Prim as close as she can to her. She bends down and cries freely, running her hands over Prim's cheeks. "Prim," she sobs. "I've missed you... so much, little duck."
Prim smiles and nods. She's crying too. She places her warm hands on Katniss' stomach. Katniss notices herself with disgust that she's still wearing Capitol clothing. "I've missed you too, Katniss. Come, sit down with us."
Katniss wipes her tears and picks up her tray of food. She holds Prim's hand as if Prim is the older one as Prim winds through the rows. "The tables are assigned," Prim chatters. Katniss is grateful for the normalcy. "We're sitting with-"
Katniss meets Cato's eyes. They sit in the corner, near the exit, to make it easier for Caia to navigate her wheelchair. "Hi, Katniss," Caia says, smiling. "I hope you're okay."
She knows not to say that nothing will ever be okay, so she just smiles and nods. "Thank you, Caia," she says. "How are you?"
"I'm well," she says. "I'm excited for your baby- have you thought about what to name it?"
"Him," Katniss says. "I'm having a boy."
"That's great!" Caia exclaims. "I was going to suggest Effie if you had a girl."
They all laugh. Prim chimes in with, "Well, you could name the baby Haymitch. Or Raynor."
They debate names, ignoring the food. Cato stays silent throughout, occasionally smiling faintly at a few suggestions. "How about Cletian?" Caia asks. "It's a District Two name, not very common, but it has powerful and traditional origins. Just like the both of you."
Katniss nods. "Cletian Embry," she muses.
Cato lets out a small chuckle. "He has a hell of a legacy to live up to."
Katniss laughs a bit too. "I wonder if he's going to almost destroy Panem." She feels almost normal, her mind a bit calmer over discussing trivial things like baby names. "Thank you, Caia."
Katniss steps into the Command room with Cato, taking in the high-tech screens and consoles, and a long table. A war-council/strategizing room, she supposes. The room breaks into applause.
She flinches, but tries to spot faces she knows. Haymitch, Plutarch Heavensbee, Finnick, Beetee, Johanna, Gale. As she waits for the clapping to die down, she wonders how many times they've watched her interviews on the screen, debating if she should be saved.
Plutarch steps up to introduce those she's not familiar with. "This is President Alma Coin, leader of District 13," he says, gesturing towards a slim, perfect woman, "my assistant, Fulvia, and Boggs, one of our generals for the rebellion cause."
Katniss nods and smiles at everyone. Cato doesn't smile, but he looks at the people and accepts their presence.
"So, Katniss," says Coin, "how much do you know?"
She shifts. "Not much," she says. "Why aren't we in District 12? What's happening?"
Plutarch furrows his brow. "They didn't tell you anything?"
She shakes her head. "Snow didn't tell us anything."
"Plutarch." Coin nods for him to fill them in.
The arena was bombed, and Finnick, Haymitch, and Beetee were taken to District 13. Enobaria died in the explosion. "This is a rebel cause. District 13 has been underground, and has been surviving for years. I, along with several others, have been part of the group inside the Capitol for years," says Plutarch, puffing his chest proudly. "You, Katniss Everdeen, are the face of the rebellion. We're going to overthrow the Capitol, and free Panem."
Katniss must have looked shell-shocked, because Haymitch jumps in. "We're going to let her have her baby first, Plutarch, before she becomes physically involved. She can do interviews and videos if she wants to."
Plutarch cracks his neck. "Of course, you don't have to be the Mockingjay, Katniss," he says, although his voice is noticeably more glum. "It's your choice. We know you've been through quite an ordeal."
Katniss knows that she really doesn't have a choice. "Of course," she says. "What about Cato?"
Out of the corner of her eye, she watches Cato's body tense. Gale rolls his eye. Plutarch looks surprised. "Cato can be a soldier, or a-"
"How do you know he'll be loyal?" Gale interrupts.
Katniss looks at her oldest friend, shocked. "Gale," she says, and she can't keep the disbelief out of her voice. "I trust him, and so should you."
"No, Mr. Hawthorne is right," says the president- the new president. "He's from District Two, a Career."
Katniss indignantly glares. "I've been in the Capitol for months- so why aren't you questioning me? I could be just as guilty! I could be hijacked!"
Haymitch intervenes. "If she trusts the boy, so be it," he says.
Coin eventually nods, but she looks at Cato with a clear warning in her eyes.
When the meeting is adjourned, and most of the people have cleared the room, Katniss whirls to Gale. "What the hell was that, Gale Hawthorne?" she spits. "Why don't you trust him? Have you not seen him save my life multiple times?"
Cato stands by. She can tell he doesn't want to intrude, but she's too mad to be grateful. "Have you not seen him try to kill you?" Gale retorts. "He knocked you up, you married him? He did everything Snow told him to do!"
"We were told to!" she shouts. "Did you want Posy to die? Or Prim? I didn't! So I did what I had to do!"
Gale exhales. "I'm not mad at you, Catnip," he mutters. "I just wish that you let us run away."
Katniss is exasperated now. "What good would that have done? We get caught, sent to the Capitol as Avoxes, the Games continue? At least here we have a chance!" She takes a gasping breath as she remembers the Capitol horrors.
"You married that motherfucker! That monster!" Gale roared. "He's from that killing factory in District Two, Katniss! He could have raped you for all we know!"
Cato steps over. "Fuck off," he says threateningly. "You can fuck off."
Katniss senses a brawl. Men like Cato and Gale resolve things through fighting. They're the same height, same amount of strength, same amount of pride. She, a seventeen-year-old pregnant girl of five feet four inches, cannot hold off two nineteen-year-old boys brimming with anger. "Gale," she pleads. "Stop."
Gale looks at her. "You're really going to just defend him like that?"
Katniss heads towards the door. "I'm leaving. But remember- my child needs both a father and an uncle, so keep that in mind. You'll have to accept each other eventually."
Caesar beams at her, his white teeth flashing. His hair is now scarlet red. Like blood. "Katniss, Katniss, Katniss," he cries, jovially. "It's wonderful to have you back, my darling. I hear a... wedding is soon! Want to tell us about that?"
"I'm so excited," Katniss says. "I can't wait to marry the man I love, and I want to that President Snow for bringing us together."
The crowd coos, Caesar chuckles. "Tell us about your child? How do you feel about it?"
Katniss forces a sweet smile on her face. "Now, Caesar, that's personal."
Caesar motions to the audience, who in return hoots with agreement. "Come on, you owe us a little bit."
No, I don't, she thinks, but she doesn't say that. Instead she says, "I don't know its gender- I want it to be a surprise. Do you have any name suggestions?"
The crowd hollers out names- she hears "Effie" and "Haymitch" and also ridiculous Capitol names like "Lacey" and "Magnus", which she's sure are their own names. She herself thinks of names, but good ones like "Rue" or "Primrose" or-
"Peeta!"
The name hits her in the face like a low blow. She doesn't know who yelled it, but others shout their approval. But she masks her pain and nods. Caesar senses her discomfort and moves on. "My dear, you must tell us: where is your beau now?"
She knows where he is. He's getting tortured.
She can't do this anymore. She can't lie. Her chest constricts and she crumbles.
She pants for breath.
Everything is silent, and she hates the silence, she hates everything in this place, from Caesar's suit right down the the engraved chairs, the four cameras live-recording everything. She dimly hears Caesar asking, "Katniss? Is everything okay?"
He knows. He has to know. But everything is not okay.
She knows she'll be punished for this. But the heat of the lights beating down on her makes her too scared. She's surrounded with people who will kill her.
She holds herself, arms hooked around her, and tries to stop shaking. Backstage workers come onstage to grasp her elbows, and she raises her red-rimmed eyes to the closest camera. "Don't stop fighting," she gasps. "Help me."
Caesar utters a small gasp, so only she hears it, but she droops her head and allows herself to be dragged away. She knows it's just the beginning. The beginning of her undoing.
Katniss rests against the wall outside the Command room. Haymitch is waiting for her. "Let me take you to your room."
They walk side by side, and she's only vaguely aware of Haymitch talking. "You'll be sharing a room with your sister and mother. They'll tell you the procedures here."
They take elevators to a hall of rooms. Katniss's body screams with protest, but she stays quiet. He stops outside the apartment labeled 307 and lingers. "Be careful," he says, and walks away.
She pushes open the door. There are two beds in the wall and a cot, and a chest of drawers. Prim jumps up immediately, her mother behind her. She hugs Prim, and then her mother.
"Katniss, there's a box for you. It has the procedures, clothes, your identification badge..." Prim rambles on as she tidies the beds.
Her mother is watching Katniss with glassy eyes. "Katniss," she whispers. "I'm... so sorry."
"For what?" Katniss asks.
"I can see the bags under your eyes, your swollen stomach, your scars," she says. Prim watches with tears of her own.
Katniss sits on the edge of the bed, and pats the space next to her. Prim and her mother sit down next to her. "I'm here now," she says. "With you."
They sit there for a bit, appreciating each other's company and their safety. Finally, their mother removes her head from Katniss's shoulder. "I have to go, it's my shift at the hospital." She kisses Katniss's forehead.
Prim regretfully stands up too. "I have to go too. I volunteer there and it's time." She holds out her forearm to show her the inked schedule. "Do you want to come with?"
Katniss grips the edge of the bed. The white rooms, she thinks. And the tables, the machines, the blood. She musters a smile. "I'm fine, little duck," she says. "Maybe next time."
The door shuts, and Katniss jumps a bit at the sound. She's left to tear open the box, and change into the clothes- specially fitted to form around her pregnant stomach.
She's not sure she can keep up with the hustle of District 13. What's to become of her? A mother? A solider? A leader?
The two brisk knocks startle her out of her silence, and she steps over to the door.
Cato stands in the doorway, eyes darting around like they always do, alert for signs of danger. "Can I talk to you?" he asks.
Katniss stands aside for him and shuts the door behind her. "Where are you staying?" she asks. "I mean, it must be difficult for Caia to navigate her wheelchair."
"During the time she's been here, she's had time to get accustomed to leg braces and walkers," he says, with a bit of pride and wonder in his eyes. "And my father chose to be in an independent living facility. Signed over his guardianship rights for Caia to me."
"Oh," she says quietly. "I'm s-"
"Don't be," he interrupts. "I'm glad he did."
"So, what did you want to talk about?" she asks, sitting down on the bed. She's pretty sure her it's her mother's, but she motions for Cato to sit down anyways.
"I think we need to be careful," he says, in that straightforward way of his. "I don't trust this place."
"What- District 13?" Katniss says. "I mean, I know it's different, but it's safe, at least."
"I don't trust the president, or Boggs, or Heavensbee," he says.
"Is this because she doesn't trust you?" Katniss wants to believe it's more than just a petty retaliation.
He rolls his eyes. "Come on, Fire Girl. I'm from District Two. I've heard things. District 13 was just a rumor, but I overheard the Peacekeepers talking about it- the deals Coin made, their arsenal, the heavy citizen rules. This place might be better than the Capitol, but not by a long shot."
Katniss is quiet, processing this information. Have they walked into another trap?
"And also," Cato continues, "We'll be viewed as outsiders. We played the Games, won them, and continued under Snow's orders. And then you have the baby, who won't understand why it- he- is shunned, even disliked, by the president."
Katniss rolls up her shirt to touch her stomach. "He's almost here, Cato. I don't know what to do- I don't know how to be a mother. I don't know how to be what he needs."
He runs a hand over his eyes. "You're a fighter, Katniss. I'm sure you'll protect him."
She nods, overwhelmed. So much has been pressed on her, in the past twenty-four hours, and she's so, so tired.
As Cato stands up to leave, she hears him mutter, "I will too," and her eyes well.
The next month and a half consist of eating bland breakfasts, staying in the Command center for five hours, eating a lunch, reflection and recreation, and dinner. She's not expected to do any duties because of her conditions- pregnancy and mental hysteria. Post-traumatic stress disorder.
She wakes up at night in a cold sweat, breathing hard, eyes wide in terror, fists clenched. Sometimes she wakes up screaming, and Prim wakes up too. When she's walking the halls, she has to duck behind a door to quell her terror.
On such a day, she sees a Capitol rebel with red tattoos. They stand out in the otherwise dreary community. They were fiery red, rose-red. When Katniss looked at her, barely a glance passing by, all she could see was blood. Katniss stumbles. The tattoos are stab wounds.
the knife, the blood
Breathing becomes hard. The swarm and rush becomes too much, her vision swimming and blurring. The people disfigure, their faces becoming mutants, or Snow, or Glimmer or Marvel or Clove or Enobaria or Gloss or-
She has to get away. She has to survive and get away. She is going to fucking die and take her baby with her and she is-
screaming, pain, laughing, Peacekeepers
shiny white walls
cool metal tables
machines, sewing her up
life. death.
red.
red. red. red.
red red red red red
it was fucking blood and he was fucking coming for her and she is going to fail
she's going to burn.
her fire is too much.
she's going to die. she's already dead. she's just a walking skeleton.
She tears at her hair, hands shaking.
A steady hand grips her arm, hard but comforting. The unknown solace guides her down the hall, and she blindly stumbles. She is brought to a room, an empty room. A schoolroom? Her head throbs, taking in the desks and chairs. She supposes that the kids must need to continue her education.
She presses a hand to her collarbone and tries to stop quaking. Only then she realizes that it's Cato, those eyes clear blue. She can see a bit of pity. "Hey," he says. "What happened? What was it?"
"Red," she gasps out. "That woman, with her red wig, like blood..."
He nods, like he understands. But he couldn't, because he never seemed affected. Except when he was being tortured, in the moment in the Capitol. He could never have post-traumatic stress, because he's so strong. "There are so many triggers," he says, "and no one seems to notice."
"They treated us for our physical injuries," Katniss rasped, "but if they know about the mental ones, they're going to treat me like a piece of glass, and I'll let them down, and I can't. I need to do this, because I can't not do anything, but I'm so weak, and...how? How do you do it, Cato? How do you not fall apart? People like Gale think I can be fixed, but I can't, and ever since the first Games I was in, and Rue and Peeta, everything is a cage and I can never be free... how do you survive? How can he survive?" She puts a hand on her stomach. "Maybe you're right about District 13. And then what? How do we get out? How the hell do we get out?"
Cato opens his mouth, but Katniss isn't finished. She stands up, pacing hysterically. "I have panic attacks every fucking day, Cato, and how can I be the Girl on Fire? Everyone thinks I can do it, and I don't! How do I cope? I can't do this, I can't be a good mother, I can't be a revolutionary, I can't, I just, I can't do it. I can't do anything. The Capitol erased my scars, like it never happened. Like it could just be forgotten. Like the pain never happened. And I'm not a flawless being, so I created new scars."
She pushes down the shoulder of her shirt to reveal the uniform cuts. "And it brings new pain, but I don't deserve it, but it's how I contribute, the pain for other people. But now, Cletian's going to see these scars, and now you are, and everyone's disappointed. I'm going to let everyone down, if I haven't already."
She brings a hand to her mouth, ashamed. "I'm sorry," she says quietly. "I'm sorry, that wasn't fair."
Cato shakes his head. "You have nothing to apologize for," he says. "And you're not a disappointment. You've defied the Capitol many times, which is more than anyone else has got the balls to do."
Katniss wipes at the tears that have escaped. She's been weepy, beyond just pregnancy hormones.
"And I do have scars," he says. "I still have nightmares, and mental blocks. I can't go behind glass doors. I'm not as strong as everyone thinks. I can hide it with arrogance, but I'm still just as scarred."
Katniss nods. "I guess we're both pretty broken."
The next day, Katniss has Cletian Embry. She has her baby.
She was walking to the Command center when her water broke. She grabs onto the nearest thing- which, it turned out, was Cato. He scoops her up and rushes her to the hospital. Her mother descends on her in a flash, and within minutes she is hooked up to the machines.
Sweating, she grips Cato's hand, swearing when the pain became unbearable. He sits next to her, ever steady, watching as the moment they had sold their souls for happened. Snow wanted this. But he didn't decide.
Katniss pants. She thought she knew pain, both mental and physical. But nothing compares to squeezing a life out of her body.
Hours later, she holds her baby in her arms, gazing at him in wonder. He is so peaceful, so innocent, so blissfully unaware of the time he had the misfortune to be born in.
He was hers. He was the one thing that was a result of her fighting. Nine months of fighting, nine months of mourning a life that wasn't even lived. And against all odds, the Embrys had survived.
It was both freeing and damning. Another thing to fight for. Another thing to lose.
She cries, and won't let go, not even as they clean him and test his vitals. District 13's technology allows her to stand minutes after giving birth, feeling rejuvenated.
He sleeps in the swaddle of blankets, peaceful. Unaware of the hell that rages outside his cocoon.
She and Cato are moved to a new unit, one more convenient for a new family. She's not sure if either of them want it, but it would be easier to care for the baby, and besides, District 13 requires it. They receive a box of supplies, and the room has a small crib, table, and bathroom. There is one bed for Katniss and Cato, but they're used to it, finding some solace. Solidarity.
After she gives birth, she goes to her new room, gripping her baby in her arms. She is almost dizzy with the new expectations that await her.
The new parents sit on the bed, Katniss's head on Cato's shoulder, both of them holding Cletian. "Introductions tomorrow," Katniss murmurs. "Everything can wait."
She breathes.
When Prim meets their baby, she coos and smiles and acts like an aunt is supposed to. She holds Cletian with blissful, pure glee and Katniss envisions a better time, and Prim is spoiling him with sweets and toys and presents.
When Haymitch meets their baby, he smiles, his scratchy cheek being rubbed by Cletian's small hands. His red-rimmed eyes are kind as he jokingly says, "Nice job, sweetheart."
When Gale meets their baby, he acts like Cato isn't there but holds the baby. He is unsure how to, not having much experience. There is a bit of regret in his eyes, because he always thought, that when he would hold Katniss' baby, that it would be his. But he smiles all the same.
When Cato holds their baby, there is wonder in his eyes, those damning eyes, as he stares at his son. His innocent son. Their beautiful son.
Cletian has his father's tan skin and blond hair, but her own grey eyes. She wasn't sure if she could handle another pair of intense blue eyes.
"I won't fail you, Cletian," Katniss whispers. "I'll make sure you'll always be free."
When Katniss steps into the bathroom, she rubs her eyes as she is allowed a small release from the chaos of it all. She steps back into the room to find Cato looking at Cletian, asleep in his crib, overwhelmed from the excitement of meeting everyone. He whips around, and steps away from the crib. "Why are you acting so guilty?" Katniss asks. "He's your child too."
Cato nods. "I'm not used to having someone who's so innocent to look after."
They sit, as they were supposed to in the Capitol during commercials. His arm around her shoulders, her head on his. This time, they hold life between them. "I will protect you both," Cato says. "Even if it means my death. And if it comes down to that, you can't hesitate, Fire Girl. You take Cletian, and go."
She nods. But she knows that she can't do that. She can't, or maybe won't, rein in her 'bleeding heart'. She needs him. He needs her.
She was a tribute, a victor, a prisoner, a fiancee, a wife, a mother, a sister, a daughter, a soldier.
She steels herself. She will be the revolutionary. She will be the Mockingjay.
