Disclaimer: I don't own any rights; the hunger games and all its characters are property of Suzanne Collins.
Summery: This story is about Cato, Katniss, Peeta, Finnick and Haymitch. They are all victors of previous games, but even though they've won, they are still slaves of the Capitol. After years of abuse, pain and despair, they decide to team up, escaping the capitol and its cruelness. But before they know it, they are caught up in the midst of a revolution. Who will survive? And will the new regime be better than the old one? Warning: violence, sex, rape and lots and lost of drama. Also character death. M for a reason!
Fountain
Fountain, fountain, we are the same
Fountain, fountain, we are the same
You with the water, me with the pain
Turning it over, again and again.
-Sara Lov, fountain lyrics-
She crawls into the bed they share, curling up beside him, her hand softly resting upon his chest. She loves his warmth. She loves his scent. It's holding her sane. Because at least, someone loves her. And she loves him too, with all her heart. Together, they can handle all the horrors the Capitol subscribe them to. 'Hey sweetheart,' he whispers to her, his voice still muffled by sleep, as his hand covers the one on his chest. 'Hey honey,' she whispers back, resting her head comfortably onto his shoulder. 'Did I wake you up?' 'Doesn't matter. I couldn't sleep anyway,' he answers, turning towards her. They kiss. 'Rough night huh?' he mutters, tasting the dried tears on her cheeks. She only nods. She doesn't want to talk about it. He doesn't have the need to hear. 'Sst,' he shushes her as she begins to cry again. 'It's alright. It all over now love. They can't get to you when you're here. Just forget they exist.' He kisses her cheeks, her delicate jawbone, her neck…She clings onto him, taking any comfort he offers her. Their lovemaking is gentle, soft, genuine…not like the performance they're suppose to give when the others capture them. 'I love you Peeta,' she whispers into his ear when they finally dose off. He gives her one last kiss. 'I love you too Katniss.'
He's staring out of the window, looking down onto the big city. Once he felt like he was one of them…a warrior, made for the kill. A proud man. But now, they've even took that from him too. He bashes his hand onto the glass in anger. The man he was…that man died. Not in the arena though. Oh no, he hadn't been that blessed. The moment he won the games, he actually thought life would become better for him…he could go home…But oh, what a fool he was. The moment he was back in the Capitol, he was a prisoner in a golden cage. First he had liked it. The attention, the women, the money…but after a while, he got fed up with it. But they would not let him go. He was their toy, their property…and he would well know it! 'Come back to bed dear.' A woman's voice calls out to him. This one is twice his age, but at least she has some beauty. He definitely had worse…With a sigh, he obeys her wishes, letting her touch him as he lays himself beside her. Another sigh. This is going to be a long night.
With one swift motion he empties his glass, then grabs the bottle to fill it once more. It was his new best friend now. The bottle. After all those years, seeing his tributes slaughtered, his family slaughtered, everyone he cared about slaughtered…the booze was just the one thing he needed to cover his feelings. Hey, maybe it would even end his live one day. That would be ironic. He laughs at the idea. 'As if they would let me. No one escapes the Capitol without their permission,' he mummers, to drunk to even speak out loud. 'Come Haymitch,' Effie says, pulling him out of his chair. 'It's time you go to bed now. You have to be fit for the reaping tomorrow.' He allows her to drag him away, but not before he has his best buddy firmly clinched under his arm.
'Annie!' The outcry is a torture to anyone who could hear it. 'Annie!' Sobbing in pain, Finnick awakens, his body covered in sweat. 'Annie?' Automatically, his hand reaches out to the other side of the bed. Of course she isn't there though. All he sees is an empty spot. He's still shaking. The dream had been so real. So perfectly real. But she was not here anymore. She would never be here. 'Annie,' he mutters, letting the tears run freely over his pale face. It had been two weeks now since they murdered her. His love. His Annie. They just threw her into a pit with wild hounds. And why? Because they wanted to be amused! They laughed at her painful outcries when the dogs grabbed her limps, tearing her apart bit by bit before their eyes. His eyes. In their cruelty, those bastards actually made him watch. 'I kill them all,' he pledges to himself, making a fist. 'I don't know how, but someday, I kill them all!'
a/n; well, like I wrote before, this contains a lot of drama. Hope you like the idea. Please let me know if I should give this story a try.