Everything was peaceful. Everything was calm.
The rebellion was over.
The games were gone, forever, or so they hoped.
It was a year or so after the rebellion was won. Katniss had just returned from a hunt, whilst Peeta was icing a cake, making it look almost as if a fresh layer of snow had settled over the cake. Every detail that one would normally dissmiss in their pure excitement - it had been noticed and replicated.
You couldn't say it wasn't impressive.
"Peeta? I'm just going to take a shower, got a lot of blood over myself on a kill. Stupid eagle ruining every kill as soon as I got them..." Across the hallways Katniss' voice echoed. They'd moved in with each other, not because of sexual desires as such, but more to the fact that neither of them could live without each other. Almost a spiritual bond... not saying they didn't also have a romantic relationship. Quite clearly, from the way the reacted with one another, they were in an established relationship that was firmly in place.
"Okay, Katniss!" It was a mudane day for the two Hunger Games victors, the Mockingjay and the boy with the bread. They didn't need to fear anymore, though. There was nothing more to fear. Panem was safe, now. Panem was equal.
It was later on when they were sat, curled up on the couch, that a knock was heard on the Mellark-Everdeen residence.
"I'll get it!" Leaping up and holding the ever-warrior down, Peeta wandered idly up to the door.
"Alright, you get it then, Pita Bread."
"Nice name. I like it. Pita and Catnip Bread, joined together in Holy Majoly." Katniss threw a pillow in his general direction, even though he had left the room.
"Shut up."
"Make me!"
"One day I will.
"No you won't, now be quiet, I'm talking to someone," whilst they had been in a flirting competition, Peeta had unlocked the door and started opening it, all while looking towards his soul-mate who threw around cushions and was also the symbol of a mass rebellion. The scene that befell him made him want to lose his breakfast, while his mouth hung open in shock. "Katniss, I think you should really come over and look at this right now. Holy flip... aren't you meant to be dead?"
"What is it... Oh my god..."
Earlier
"Please don't die on me out here, hun'. Wait 'till we get to Twelve - look, we can see Victor's village in the distance. See, see?" He held her out so she was still supported, but she could see the houses in the distance.
"Ci-ci..." Her brain only partly worked - she would never be the same again. Still, they tried to be unaffected by it.
"Yeah, I'm still here. Just about." They were both bloodstained, and she had a roughly stitched up hole in her head, over her brain.
A bullet-hole.
He was limping, very obviously, and there was an everlasting blood-trail behind them. How on earth they'd got this far in the first place was just due to luck and disguise and an idioctic train-guard who had been easy to fool. Neither could hang on for much longer, as he held her mostly, and she stared blankly, hardly attempting to move. Both were still experiencing worlds of pain, and she often blacked out, leaving him to carry her. They went to the safest place they could remember. District 12. Katniss, Peeta, and maybe Haymitch. The remains of 12, anyway. Victors village was still standing tall.
That was a relief.
"Now, just hold on until we get to the fire-kids." The stylists nickname for their little beauties made her give him a ghost of a smile - which, in itself, was extremely hard work and a lucky saved memory, considering her condition. "Don't you dare die on me, you're the only one good enough to keep me from setting myself alight because it sounds so very fun, because I'm a madman, right?" He started coughing up a bit of blood, which triggered her too, so they had to momentarily stop to spurt blood everywhere. Eventually, they continued, and finally, they were nearly at 12. The never-ending crawl along the street was literally a crawl by that point - both were exhausted beyond their minds, him especially, and could've easily fainted right then and there, but, having the will that was stronger than diamonds and hotter than fire, they continued right up to their saviours front door. Suprisingly, no-one had noticed them yet. But, by then, it had become all too much for her as she fell, unconcious yet still graceful, into his arms. He was on the verge of her state too, as black spots swarmed his vision when he knocked whilst holding her in his other arm, before cradling her to his chest protectively. How they survived was a miracle, but not one to dwell upon now, as he heard the familiar voices of the teenagers. It was Peeta who held open the door to salvation, Peeta who took one look at them before cursing under his breath and yelling for his love, Katniss. When they stood there, Cinna looked at his close-friend, Katniss. He couldn't even hear them anymore.
"... Cinna! Portia!" Katniss breathed out as she looked at the two bloody, battered, one unconcious, stylist partners. Her stylist and friend, Cinna, blinked, opened his mouth as if to say something... then promptly passed out on the spot. Rushing forward, Peeta grabbed him, whilst Katniss took Portia from Cinna's arms.
"Oh god, we need to get a doctor, and fast!" Peeta's wits had returned after seeing the shock of the dead return to being the alive - one of their deaths even included a broadcast execution. Who survives that? There would be time for that later, time for that once the hurt had treatment.
"I'll run to the doctors'. You keep an eye on these two. Make sure neither die. Please don't let them die." Almost as if comforting herself, Katniss ran to the door, while Peeta nodded and checked the injured pair as well he could. Which wasn't fantastic, but good enough, rest assured.
"Go, girl on fire. Run like a blaze." Peeta looked and spotted Cinna, swimming in and out of conciousness, looking gently towards her with a fading grin, before he was dragged back to the land of unconciousness.
"Go, Katniss, now!" Peeta firmly instructed, for once being the leader. There was no objection as Katniss ran out. "Now, Cinna and Portia, you were both dead. So how did you both get here?..." He mused to the air. It was impossible, ressurection.
Wasn't it?
a/n: PLEASE REVIEW! I got, like, NO reviews for my other story (which was admittedly bad) but please review this one. I wrote it in third person, which sometimes goes slightly into first person, but not usually. I wrote this as a pre-epilouge, AU after Mockingjay (I'll rewrite the epilouge at the end of the story, if I remember). Basically, I was not satisfied with Cinna and Portia just dying, end of. No, there is no way IN HELL they will just DIE like that. So I thought up this storyline, thought 'why not?' and wrote it. Please review or I'll eat all the tickets to the Hunger Games movie. Just sayin'...
