A/N: Hi guys! Not too long ago I wrote a similar fanfic called Missing The Mockingjay, where Peeta had to rescue Katniss but now I want to do it from more of Katniss' POV. Don't know if anyone will really be into this, but since I'm already writing it I might as well publish it. If you do read, please review. This begins right at the end of Catching Fire and goes throughout Mockingjay. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I own nothing of The Hunger Gamesor its characters, this is purely for fun.
When I wake, I'm pleased to be able to move my arms again; to feel that I still have fingers. I slide myself down off the table and tiptoe my way into a narrow hallway. I listen carefully to the voices right outside, trying to blend in and not be spotted.
I grip the syringe in my hand tightly, ready to find Peeta and end all of the awful pain for us. Another rough voice answers who I know is Plutarch, Haymitch! I stumble my way through, syringe gripped tightly in hand.
Haymitch grabs my arm and forces me to release it, while Plutarch puts me in a chair by Finnick. Haymitch sits in front of me and attempts to explain what happened.
The rebel plot, the plan of which I was again used as a piece in. It's pretty hard to digest really, but what upsets me more is him not telling me.
The secret plan for the others to die to ensure I lived… I am the mockingjay, the one that survived despite the Capitol's plans.
"Peeta…" I barely manage to get out. "Where is Peeta?!" I say stronger, raged and glaring into Haymitch's eyes. Haymitch tells me he was captured by the capitol. I stand up, ready to lunge and attack him. He was supposed to protect Peeta, We had a deal! I think.
"Katniss…" he says sternly, but I can't yet read his gaze. "There's something else you need to know. While you were out, the doctors they ran some tests and…" his voice trails off, as his eyes fill with a look of rage and sadness.
"You're pregnant." he says flatly, "Want to tell me about it, sweetheart?" a tone of annoyance clear in his voice. He manages to yell out "How could you?" before I start scratching my nail down his face. We scream horrible, obscene things at each other and I continue to struggle even as Finnick tries to pull me away.
Before I know it, I'm back on the table restrained by the hands of many. A needle jabs my arm and I continue to bang my head against it until I give up. I'm sedated but not asleep, so I can still hear others talking but all I can think about is Peeta.
What the capitol is doing to him, I don't know. Part of me wishes we were all dead, at least then it would all be over.
I resolve to give up. They can do whatever they want to me, but my will to live is gone. I have no sign of hope like I did with the dandelion in the spring. Nothing to show me that it could get better.
Part of me wants to die, just in spite. I want to punish Haymitch for allowing us to be used as pieces in the rebels' game. I trusted him and he betrayed me. I stay like this until one day when I'm faced with someone I can't ignore Gale.
He knows me so well, knows how I work. His arm is in a sling and there are bandages under his shirt, something bad must have happened. Gale tells me softly that there is no more District 12.