A/N – My first fanfiction :3 so be nice, yeah? It's just something I couldn't get out of my head, so I wrote it. Hope you like it :)
I'm running through the jungle, rich green vines whip out and try to grab me as I pass. In the distance, I can see a shimmering pool of water, but the way it almost sways tells me it's not real – a mirage. A trick that I'm playing on myself; that if I keep running I can find water, I can survive. So I'll keep running, because a part of me believes it's worth it. A flash of blond hair blinds me for a second, momentarily immobilising me. My head whips round in a search, scouting out the face that is so familiar to me now. I can't find him, I can't move.
It's like being back at home in the woods, being deadly still so that the game will come to you. Sure enough, a few leaves crack and I slowly turn. But it's not a rabbit for me to kill, skin, eat – it's a snake. A long, slender grey snake that I know is not real, it's a warning. A Gamemaker's creation, a taunt, a risk. All of a sudden it lashes towards me, mouth open, but I still can't move. I close my eyes to wait for the end, one ghost of a name forming on my lips - a warning to him. It's the least I can do after all of this. Nothing happens, no sound forms and I feel no pain. Is this what it feels like, to die? My nostrils are filled with the sickening stench of roses and blood – I can almost taste it. When I open my eyes there is no snake, no jungle. Just a perfect white rose out on the ground in front of me, blending in with the endless white of the floor, the walls.
Ignoring the prick of the thorns in my hands, I grab the rose only to throw it to the ground. I stamp on it, grab it again, rip off the petals. Slowly, the smell of the rose dims as I destroy it, but I can't stop the blood. I turn around in the vacant white to see the real snake, cold eyes only inches away from me. "Convince me," he whispers, rippling shivers down my spine. I am frozen, I am an Avox mute. I am going to die. I could be dead already. I don't feel any regret, any sadness whatsoever. I've had a long time to prepare myself for death. I decided a long time ago that I would die to save Peeta.
Then I hear his voice, kind as ever from above, but for the first time it fills my heart with dread. "No-" I screech, turning from Snow, running. "Run, Peeta, go!" I scream, caw, yell for him to leave. I haven't been through all of this to have him die, too. "Katniss," he repeats, kindly, reassuringly. "It's okay." Now, he's walking towards me and steps in behind Snow, smiling as though nothing is wrong. Slowly, deliberately, Snow places his arm around Peeta, my Peeta, in a half embrace. Then it hits me – Peeta is not in danger. He is with the snake. And then I collapse.
"Katniss," his voice comes back again, but now I am in his arms. I look up at him, an empty stare, terror plastered all over my face. "It's okay," he repeats again, in the same voice as before, and I freeze. The last time I heard him say that, nothing was okay. "It was just a dream," he says soothingly, pulling me closer. I relax a little, still not entirely convinced, and in return a small smile stretches across his face. "You were screaming," he tells me. "Said my name a few times, too," the worry has gone from his face now, replaced with a light tease. My Peeta is back.
For the first time, I breathe, relax and snuggle into his shoulder. Peeta would never take Snow's side – it was just a nightmare. It wasn't real. I don't need to say anything to show my gratitude to him, for being there to make the pain go away. I know it is enough for him, me being here. My life comes flooding back as the nightmare fades away, and I grimace slightly, hoping he doesn't notice. Life in Thirteen isn't so bad, but the constant company of both Gale and Peeta is excruciating. It always seems to me as though I am the only person that notices the tense atmosphere, although I wish I didn't.
How could I miss it? I've been through so much with both of them that I know them inside out – I know what jealously looks like. The worst thing is that I know exactly what they both want, how to stop the obvious pain that spreads across their faces when they see me with the other. But I love them both; I can't hurt either of them. I can't live without either of them. You can live without Gale, a voice in my head whispers. You already have. But I know that's not true. Gale gave me everything by keeping my family alive – I owe him for them several times over. Peeta, on the other hand, has saved mine countless amounts of time, not to mention my family's with the bread. I will never stop owing either of them, and my debt increases everyday that I treat them like this.
I know it's wrong to go on this way; keeping both of them in the dark whilst I pretend to be Peeta's lover to the rest of the world. I pull him closer and burrow my face into the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent. It still calms me, just as it did in the games. He's always been there to protect me, to make me feel safe. I went into the arena for the second time to protect him for once; to die for him. A final sacrifice for the one person that I know is better than all of this; who I could only aspire to be like. Peeta. Haymitch's words flash in my head, a reminder of something I am all too aware of. You could do a lot worse.
With a sigh, I pull away from him abruptly and get out of the bed. Each time I wake up or see either of them the same things run through my head and I'm powerless to stop them. Peeta and I have been through a lot, but can that really match the bond that Gale and I share? The one that took years to forge, built up by a union we both needed to survive. I am almost certain that if my little sister had never been reaped, we would be together by now.
Isn't that why I'm here? To fight for the freedom we deserve, for the life I should have had, could have had without Snow's games. I didn't join the rebellion for the food, that's for certain. If I had never been a tribute, never had cause to be, I would be waking up next to Gale. We would hunt every Sunday and share the food out to our families, then eat together. I would feel free to marry him, bear his children without fear of them being taken for the Capitol's twisted entertainment. I would be free.
Yet somewhere deep down I know this lifestyle is no longer an option. I'll never have children. If I were to I'd never stop fearing for their safety - I think I would go mad with paranoia, belief that the President would take my family away from me. I will never stop fearing for my loved ones. These games, this system has robbed me of my humanity; it's something I'll never get back.
I say a quick goodbye to Peeta and head back to my own quarters. For some reason, they didn't room me with my family - I think it's supposed to be a compliment. This is their way of acknowledging that I have been through so much that it would be wrong to call me a child now; not that I don't agree with them. I can certainly stay in a room of my own without the hassle of a parent. Still, I barely spend any time in the place. I'll go to see Prim or Gale in reflection and I almost always stay overnight in Peeta's room. I don't like to be alone, it reminds me too much of the arena. Everything reminds me of the games. I'll never escape them.
I hold my arm out, waiting to be stamped with the orders I'll never follow. The inked schedule on my wrist is becoming a little bit of a joke now – I almost go out of my way to do the complete opposite of what it demands of me. I haven't been here for long, though. Eventually they will stop treating me differently and I'll have to follow it. I know I'm bending the rules, the way of life here, but then again I never was one for doing as I'm told Surely they should know that by now. This time, though, breakfast has been removed from the list. One of the only activities I actually attend.
Instead, 9:00: Urgent Meeting, Room 745 is clearly stained in purple on my skin. Great. I'm supposed to skip breakfast to meet with Coin and her army? I don't think so. But a tiny ounce of curiosity begins to creep up on me. I want to know why they so urgently need to see me when I've clearly told them I won't be their Mockingjay. I am already a symbol of rebellion, apparently; enforcing that idea to the innocent people in the districts and the Capitol is just another way of hurting the people that I love. That is something I will never stop doing. Hurting them.
My mother and sister may be in district Thirteen but that doesn't mean that there isn't more people out there to hurt. What about the people in twelve, those that weren't found by the raid that picked up my family and Gale? What about Madge, Greasy Sae, everyone else in the hob? Peeta's family are still baking away, completely unaware of the rebellion that has captured their son. There are still people at risk and becoming the Mockingjay would only emphasize this. Peeta agrees with me – people don't need me to persuade them to join the rebellion. They already hate the Capitol enough as it is.
Still, I'm curious. When I leave my room to see Peeta waiting for me, the same calling inked on his wrist I know I'm not going to be able to resist going. "Let's go see what's so urgent," I sigh as we step into the elevator. Wordlessly, our hands find each other. These elevators bring terrible memories back for us both. I have to blink to stop the vision of Cinna being dragged away from resurfacing.
Apparently, Room 745 is far away from our quarters. The elevator plummets down into the depths of Thirteen, parts that I have yet to visit. We both have to swipe our fingers over the recognition device – looks like normal citizens aren't allowed down here. "I wonder what they want," I muse, still holding onto Peeta's hand. I feel bad for leading him on still, but I can't help it. It soothes me.
"Maybe Plutarch has a new outfit he wants an opinion on," he jokes. I can't help but crack a smile, and the elevator doors open into the room. We are a symbol of unity, holding hands, smiling and laughing. My face falls when I spot Gale. He turns away from me, wearing his trademark scowl, refusing to look me in the eye. Great. I haven't even been up for half an hour and I've already managed to annoy him. That must be a new record.
Wordlessly, Peeta and I separate our hands and take two seats on the table. For the first time I really take a good look at the room. Huge TV screens coat two entire walls, and the table is positioned so that anybody sat on the far side of it can see each screen. They hold a hundred different images – some places I recognise, some I don't. There's the outside to Snow's mansion, the station that brings the tributes to the Capitol. Most of the rooms are unfamiliar, although there are some people in there that I know.
"Cinna," I say, standing, a sense of urgency in my voice that I haven't heard in a long time. He's tied up in what looks like a cell, but he's breathing. "He's alive," I breathe, a weight lifting off of my shoulders that I didn't even know was there.
"There are a lot of people that still need saving from the Capitol, Katniss." A cold, steel voice emerges from the far side of the room. Coin. I hadn't even seen her enter the room, but she's here now, walking towards me. My shoulders sink; I know what they want from me. The Mockingjay. This is why I am here – I should never have turned up. I should have gone to breakfast as normal, although something tells me I might have been punished for the direct attempt at disobedience.
Peeta stands with me, inching a little closer towards me. I can't deny that I want him there. "Look, President. Katniss has already refused to be your Mockingjay. Hasn't she done enough already?" My eyes widen a little – I don't want him to be punished. From the corner of the room, I can feel Gale glowering.
"That's up to her to decide. There's something you all need to see," she replies, her voice as monotonous as ever. If I hadn't seen her giving her speeches to her people, I would doubt that she was able to express any emotion whatsoever. I suppose that's exactly what politicians are – emotionless, but powerful when they need to be. I should know; I've met Snow. Her grey hair shines as she leans forward to press a button, and for a moment I find myself wondering yet again if it's real.
My attention shifts, though, when the screens flick to another scene, one that I recognise. It's an aerial view of almost everything in twelve. I can spot the Hob and all of the other places near the Seam. The justice building, the school, the market, all of the Merchant's shops. I can even spot the bakery where Peeta grew up, where he gave me the bread. I can see my house, too, and just make out the fence Gale and I snuck under so many times. I don't understand why Coin is showing us this; showing me my home only makes me want to leave Thirteen, not become her coveted Mockingjay.
That is when the bombing starts.
Everything I know is on fire. The place where I was born, where every memory of my Father takes place is burning to the ground. I can't watch, but I can't tear my eyes away from the screen. "We've got to do something," I yell, tears streaming down my face. "Where are your soldiers? Why aren't they fighting this?" I choke out the words, rushing towards Coin. I would do anything to make this destruction stop. I turn towards the screen again, just in time to watch the school explode in a burst of orange and red flames. The kids didn't stand a chance.
"It's already happened," she says. "It's a recording." Her voice is as emotionless as ever, save for the tiny ounce of pity in there. I do not need her to pity me. I turn to Gale and Peeta for help, realising for the first time that they have yet to say anything. Peeta is still sat at the table, eyes glued to the screen, tears pouring down his cheeks. Gale has his head between his knees, fists balled, but I instantly know that he's seen this before. He kept it from me. If he hadn't, he would be here, fighting Coin alongside me to save everybody in Twelve.
I feel like punching the woman. Shoving her, throwing a chair at her or something. Anything to make her show some sign of emotion, some sign that she actually cared about the people that died there. Then, all of a sudden, I realise it's not her I need to be hurting. It's Snow. This is the work of the Capitol, the merciless killing machine that is the ruler of these innocent people. I can't sit back and watch anymore, I have to do something. I have to stop them. I can't let more innocent people die.
I thought that staying in the sidelines would help the people I cared about, protect them. I was wrong. The Capitol will never stop trying to hurt me. Not until I stop them myself.
"Fine," I spit the words out, looking Coin directly in the eye. "I'll be your Mockingjay."