Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games or its characters; they belong to Suzanne Collins. This has been written solely for entertainment purposes, without the intention of infringing upon any copyright.

Also, the title of the fanfiction was inspired by the band 'Ashes Remain'.

Ashes Remain

Chapter 1: Smoke and Ashes

"Run! Run! Katniss! Find an exit and run!"

I hear a voice in my head; someone is calling my name. I know that voice, I know it. I try to recall the voice from past memories, from last night's party, but it doesn't come to me. I open my eyes slowly and for a moment the bright light blinds me and it takes a while to adjust my eyes in the dark; and when I do, I see that I'm lying on a puddle of blood and ashes.

Where am I?

I try to stand up but find that my entire body is aching furiously. It hurts everywhere, it hurts in my head, my legs, my hands. It hurts even to think.

I try to move but I feel a sharp pang of pain in my left hand and give out a cry. I turn my head slowly, and it feels like someone is drilling through my scalp, and see a pile of bricks and rocks crushing my hand to the ground. I try to sit up but it's useless, I collapse before I hardly rise an inch. I try again but it begins to throb in my head again and I fall down. I grab a handful of my hair with my good hand, shut my eyes, bite my tongue and try to stop it from coming out.

But no, the pain is too intense and my tongue betrays me.

"Help! Somebody help! I'm dying! It hurts so much! Help me, please!"

I call out till my throat is sore and I've lost my breathe, but no, nobody comes.

Nobody ever comes.

I'm helpless. And I'm dying.

Just like before.

And then I'm crying, and by some miracle, I'm up, sitting up and removing, throwing, breaking the pile of concrete on my hand, the pain from before vanished by the sudden flashback of my past.

My past. I hate my past.

And before I know it, I'm standing straight up. And then, the memories wear off, and the pain comes back. I give out a cry, this time a soft, tearful one and grab my broken hand with my good one. I blindly look around here and there, try to make out where I am and what's happening. But all I see are smoke and ashes.

I shouldn't be here. Why am I here? Why is there so much wreckage?

And before I know it, random thoughts start flooding my mind, thoughts that come to me when I forget who I am. My head starts swirling, my vision becomes blurry, and I look around for support, for something to hold onto, and find a shaking pillar. I limp towards it and lean on it carefully and give out a sigh of relief, not for the support but for the fact that I'm still standing. I try to refocus and push aside the random thoughts, try to remember something about myself, starting from the easy ones like my name to the more complex ones like where I work, a simple trick a doctor taught me for situations like this.

And I realize, with horror, that I know nothing. Absolutely nothing. My name, my age, my job, nothing.

I feel panic rising within me and then I spot something black on the floor. I pick it up and feel it's smooth, cold surface with the tip of my finger, the way red blood is smudged over its shining, metallic body, the way I feel safe when I'm holding it.

And that's all the reminding I need.

'I am Katniss Everdeen. I'm in the CIA. I kill murderers. I am holding my pistol. My pistol is my friend. A few moments ago I put a bullet through the head of the most wanted criminal of the country, Snow. My mission is now competed. Someone fired a grenade. This warehouse is now collapsing. And now I'm wasting time because I should be running.'

Yes, that's it, that's all of it.

Run. Yes, run. That's what I should be doing. Find an exit and run. Wasn't that what Darius told me before he got shot?

Yes, that was it. And I should be doing just that.

I look around for an exit, a door, a window, anything. But I see nothing other than smoke and ashes. That and blood, loads of it, smudged on the bodies, across the floor, the pillars, the ceiling, the wreckages.

My head starts swirling again and I start coughing. Coughing out smoke, then spit, then blood. My throat flames, I lose my breathe but it doesn't stop. I let go of my broken hand and try to grab the pillar for support but I can't hold on anymore. I collapse on my knees and cover my mouth with my good hand, the gun still pressed in it, spray it with red blood, more blood.

And just when I think that this is the end, this is how I die, covered up in blood, just like I was born, it stops and I can finally breathe. I lean my head against the pillar and begin to remember all that's happened. I've been in this damp, dark warehouse for 12 hours. Assassinating Snow was a lot more time consuming than what we planned. But I came here with other agents, and now I see no one, at least no one alive. Where are they?

It starts hurting all over again. I would've surrendered to the ground immediately but a sudden movement to my right catches my attention. I turn around and see a human figure, covered in blood moving on the ground. At first I'm confused, but then I see his hand reaching a pistol. And immediately, I know what I have to do.

I bite my tongue, ignore the pain, pull my hand up, target the left side of his head and pull my trigger.

He was an enemy. And my seventh kill in this mission. No, eighth.

"Katniss! Katniss, do you hear me?" the sudden voice startles me and I raise my pistol up, ready to shoot and only to realize that it's Finnick. But where is his voice coming from?

"Finnick! What's happening? Is everyone out? Why am I still stuck here?", I call out cautiously.

"Oh Katniss, I'm so glad you're still alive…" Now I hear Annie.

"No time for happiness Agent Annie, move aside. Agent Everdeen, do you hear me? Agent Everdeen!" That's chief Thresh.

"Yes chief" I croak out.

'Chief, let me do this. Katniss listen, you've gotta find a way out! The place is gonna break down any moment now!"

"But Finnick, where are you? Why can't I…."

"I'm outside the warehouse and I'm communicating through a walkie-tallkie. Yours must still be lying somewhere around. After you shot Snow, someone fired a grenade and then we lost track of you..." But something else distracts me from Finnick. To my right, a few feet away, I notice a movement, a hand trying to push away something, a body with only one leg clumsily moving…towards me.

"…and the only exit that is not blocked yet is a few feet north from the mid-pillar…"

"Finnick, there's someone here!" I try to yell in my softest tone.

"Katniss, no, what…" And then I hear a sound, a crunch. The sound of a machine being crushed by a foot. The sound that says that there is no hope to be alive. The sound that means something else has found me before death itself did. Something worse, someone worse. An enemy.

I look up and find myself staring at a pair of blue eyes, insane with hunger for who knows what but so…deep.

"So you're Katniss, huh? The famous Katniss Everdeen? I've heard about you a lot." His voice comes out to be beaten up by the smoke, but as cold as ice. I keep an eye on his face and use the other to scan the rest of him. I look at him from up to bottom, from his dusty blond hair to his bare, pale feet, no foot, his right leg is blown off from beneath the thigh and now it's bleeding furiously, like a river.

I know that I know him, that I've seen him before. I try to recall him from many of the wanted posters on my office board, from the many files stacked up on my desk but every time I try to focus my eyes land on the gun in his hands, his fingers on the trigger. And I know that who he is not important now. He's an enemy, a threat and my next step would be to kill him.

But instead of taking the shorter path, I take the longer one. Instead of my gun, I move my mouth - "Oh yeah, what've you heard about me?"

"Don't try to act cool Miss Everdeen, we both know what's gonna happen next." His eyes change from hungry to wild, wild to hungry.

I know that. He shoots me and I fall dead. But I suddenly I remember something my little sister said when we were smaller, when she was still alive. 'Miracles happen miraculously, with the least expected person on earth.'

And that's what it's been, my entire life. Miracles. I'm alive because of a miracle, no, not a miracle, miracles.

And so I lie, hoping for another miracle.

"For sure. I shoot you and then you become famous, just like millions of others who had the honour to be shot by me."

And he laughs.

He laughs coldly and artificially, like that was the funniest thing that he's ever heard. I had to wet my dry lips so many times to say those lines and he just laughs. I think he even may have wiped off a tear.

"That was very amusing, Miss Everdeen. You have a good sense of humor. But all good things must come to an end right?" He begins to raise his gun.

"Who are you?" I ask, only if to create some time to position my pistol.

He laughs again, only this time, it's real. It's warm somehow. Or maybe I've just gone crazy, which I do often, to find a probable murderer's death-calling laugh warm.

"A nice strategy to patch up some time…may I call you Katniss? Miss Everdeen takes so much longer."

"Sure" I'm just glad to get some additional time to place my fingers on the trigger.

"But I'm glad that you asked, Katniss." He extends the word Katniss so that it sounds like a hiss. And suddenly, he appears to be very calm. It doesn't feel right, how he said my name. But I push those thoughts away and focus on my gun.

"So, what is it?" I can see that he is about to pull the trigger and I begin to pull mine too.

He says with an unusually genuine smile for a murderer-"Peeta Mellark"

Mellark. Mellark. Mellark. His words still hang in the air.

And I release my trigger, only the bullet doesn't hit him. It hits the rain of crashing concrete that collapses on top of him.

"What the heck!" I yell out, startled, my pistol still raised. And before long, I've thrown my pistol away and started crawling towards the half- dead man infront of me. And suddenly, I come to a halt. I realize that my throat has been piled up with smoke and that it's a miracle that I'm even alive.

Again. Another miracle.

I collapse onto the ground, coughing, struggling to hold my breathe. And I still keep crawling towards him.

'Turn away Katniss!' I try to tell myself "Don't go to him! He's an enemy, a murderer! He deserves to be dead, he's better off dead!'

No, I don't stop.

"He tried to kill you! He was going to kill you if that pillar didn't break on him! Don't risk your life for him. Don't even think about it!"

No, too late. My strong self is gone, now, I'm not a woman who considers her job to be the most important thing to her, who has no pity for the guilty ones, who doesn't flinch to put a bullet through their heads.

Now, I'm weak, just a normal girl who's scared of death, of people dying. A girl who hates guns and wants to save lives.

"He's a murderer Katniss, you know who he is…."

I'm already biting down the pain bursting through my broken hand and pulling at him desperately, trying to break him free from the debris.

"You know who he is, what he did. You know whose son he is…"

I push away my realistic thoughts, just like I push away my irrelevant thoughts when I'm in my right mind.

But now I'm not in my right mind. I'm nothing but a desperate, scared and crazy girl. And all I know is that I have to save him.

A/N: First story about The Hunger Games. Reviews would be greatly appreciated!