The Missing Pieces

Noel Dube (aka Kato Everdeen)

"Sink me in the river, at dawn
send me away with the words of a love song"

This is actually a sequel to my first fan-fiction, The Missed Shot ( s/8219764/1/The_Missed_Shot). I suggest you read that first if you attempt to read this and getting lost in the darkness, not understanding what on earth is going on. If you have read The Missed Shot, welcome back.

In the place where I thought nothing else mattered, my life had finally begun.

The screaming has finally stopped and we are both on our way to recovery. After living a year as nothing more than a slave, a spectacle of entertainment, I have progressed to nothing remotely better. Some would say I'm worse off now, but at least I don't have to dress up and pretend to be happy. I don't have to pretend at all any more. I can be me, and spew the profanities that I've wanted to say so badly for so very long. Of course, life is a little easier when I don't preach my mind to the empty faux forests that have recently become my home. Perhaps they will make it rain a little less, or maybe make the birds a little easier to find. Maybe I'll find some wild strawberries, or the fish will swim upstream for once.

And then of course, there is also the fact that I'm no longer alone. There is always someone to come 'home' to, someone to share a 'bed' with when its unbearably cold, and someone to give me a reason to be alive.

Its been two weeks since my wedding, two weeks since I was locked back up and watched by thousands of unwavering eyes hidden behind television screens as they occasionally flip through the channels when they grow tired of watching two people being freer than them even in captivity.

I'm not going to lie, if it weren't for Cato, I would have given up hope right then and there when Snow sung shut that door after I had said my "I do". I would have collapsed under the weight of my soddened wedding dress and cried until my bodies desire for food began to eat at my own muscle, until I was decreed to nothingness.

Just having him there to hold me and then to remind me that with a body next to mine, there is still something left, there is still another heart beating that I care so dearly about that it would only motivate me to keep my pulsing along with it.

Welcome back to life, Katniss. You're pregnant and being hoarded by jabber-jays, mutts, nightmares, and worst of all, the fear of falling over and potentially killing the baby.

My need felt week and the only thing keeping me standing was Cato's steadfast grip around my waste, slowly circling his thumbs affectionately into my sides, pressing his face into my hair that was still held in position by the various toxic district labor made substances that had been spiked into my hair less than a few hours ago.

"You know you're beautiful right?" he murmured into the top of my head, my thick hair that itched to be in a braid muffled the sound of his voice, sending vibrations from his voice box through the top of my head.

It seems hard to believe that a year ago, I was disgusted by this man, that I would have hardly hesitated to take his life even though that would mean having another death on my already dirtied hands. The games change people. We have both grown week, we have learned to let our guard down, and in so doing, emotion has filled our voids.

Emotions can be very dangerous. They lead to instability, to confusion, to loss. Everything you get emotionally attached to will be ripped away and it will burn. Better to have nothing so you can loose nothing, than loose something, the only thing that matters and feel the retaliating burn.

To say you fear nothing is invalid and illogical. Fear is natural and without it, you don't deserve to live. But it goes without saying that in that minute that lasted forever where my wet dress pulled me down and the familiar sent of masculinity surrounding me, I felt nothing. There is no room for attachment in the arena; I had learned that the hard way last year. Peeta and Rue were examples of such.

"You know, they are still alive. They made it to the top eight. We could be in the same arena, it does look similar to the screens before, after all."

My stomach stirred, and the thought of seeing my district tributes, the ones I was supposed to mentor and help keep alive caused jolt after jolt of excitement and dejection into my blood.

"Something could have happened to them." The words tumbled out of my tight throat in a raspy, catching voice that strained my already tired mouth.

"If they are here, we'll find them. Come on, we have to find something. Anything. There is no knowing how long we'll be in here. If it were up to me, I'd rather be comfortable when night time comes around."

"Thank god there's no bloodbath this time." My voice came out as nothing short of a whisper.

"This year's bloodbath already occurred." His hands moved from my hips to gather around my tear stained face. His eyes leveled to mine and bore into me. I could read him like an open book through his eyes. The closed windows that they once were have become sources of vibrant information, giving me clues and tidbits of his emotion, accepting me little by little into his cold barrier that he had surrounded himself in at such a young age. His nostrils faired and his pupils dilated.

"I smell smoke."

The gut feeling of terror burned a hole in my stomach and my vision flared in red with the worry and recollection of memories. Flames have become my representation and my curse, and I could only imagine the laugh Snow was getting out of playing with that.

A robust woodsy smell of burning cedar and maybe oak, mingled with the smell of burning cotton and hints of hair invaded my sinuses making me gag. My legs stiffened in preparation to haul my dread wrenched legs one after the other to follow the vague direction of the higher concentration of putridity. My dress sagged unnaturally behind me, stressing my shoulders and waste as my bodice slipped a little from its steadfast position plush against my breast. Cato noticed and grinned before gathering the wet material in his hands and giving it a tug-

"My apologies, Cinna." He muttered, and watched it rip cleanly off from the corsette style top, revealing a durable well-fitted pair of cargo shorts.

"He's incredible." I murmured. "Too bad he didn't have the sense in putting me in boots to match."

"Lets deal with one thing at a time, shall we?" Cato said as he hastily loosened his tie and left it discarded next to the pile of torn and now stained material that once composed the dress that signified my marriage, and also my capture.

Without even bothering to speak, he set a steady pace towards the source of the smell and smoke. It gradually got easier and easier to locate the smell as it began to smell more and more of death. I'd say we had trekked for about fifteen minutes before we stopped.

Its not that we were tired, but I think any logical person would have stopped as well if they had heard six very familiar cannon shots, all going off consecutively. At this point, I wasn't even worried. If it was someone of importance, I'd be happy for them, because winning is the only hardship that is truly unbearable. If it were people who I lacked interest for, it would still be sad, heart wrenchingly sad that another life had been lost in the attempt to keep Capitol freaks amused, but not tragic.

The smell had begun to subside almost immediately after the blaring sound of cannon fire, and I had steadied myself, straining my senses to grasp the very last whiffs of it before it died out completely.

Breaking the din, there was nothing there to strike suspicion. Nothing to give any hint of the prospect of a fire, nor of six deaths. Well, apart from the charred mass of gold that still stood as the cornucopia, its glistening tip that leveled with the slowly setting sun remaining untouched by the soot that splotched its main body. The fire had left as soon as it had come, leaving the soul untouched, and no trees in the clearing, having a perfect ring of some forty feet branched out around the cornucopia, and nothing else until you hit the forest line, or the plateau that expanded across the opposite side of the forest.

Welcome back, Katniss, it's been a while.

In case there are those of you who weren't very interested in going back and reading the first fanfiction, in a nut shell, what has happened up to this point is when Katniss, Peeta, and Cato were on the cornucopia in their last few hours in the arena, Katniss misses her target and shoots Peeta through the heart instead of Cato's hand. Then after a few awkwardly written chapters, Katniss is blessed with insanity and goes through various trials such as prostitution, pulling her and the crazed weapon hoarder, Cato to become closer over time. They are denied their privileges to return home. The quarter quell is announced, and only direct relatives of previous victors will be reaped. I'm sure you can see where thats going. While the 75th games are going on, Snow orchestrates Katniss' wedding while she remains oblivious, finally trapping her and Cato back into the arena. By use of changing POVs, the readers know that all the tributes are dead, but Katniss and Cato are not yet aware of that, since the last time they checked, there were still eight tributes alive. Oh, and Cato knocked Katniss up. Thats pretty much it up to this point. Hopefully this fanfic will make a little more sense now?

Anyways, drop me a review and I'll love you.

Cheers, everyone!
much love,
-Noel