A/N: Hey there! I haven't written in a while for a handful of reasons, but mostly I just lost interest. I was writing but it didn't have that passion that I felt it deserved. I went to see Mockingjay, and that passion came back. Will this be Katniss/Finnick? Maybe. I don't know if it's going to be romantic at all. The Hunger Games was never a love story, and I'd hate to reduce it to that. Also this is completely un-beta'd so excuse any grammatical errors!

As always, all legal rights etc. go to Suzanne Collins/Lionsgate/whomever.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, the winner of the 74th Hunger Games, Katniss Everdeen!"

I laugh. It's a hollow, sarcastic choked sound. Someone wet trickles down my cheek. My entire body throbs in pain.

I'm alive. Am I alive?

My name was entered in this year more times than I'd like to count. Tessarae, as disgusting as it felt to put my name down for it, helped put food on the table. And if I wrote my name down an extra time to deliver a bag to Hawthornes, Gale wouldn't have to know.

Nobody was surprised when Effie Trinket enthusiastically called out "Katniss Everdeen". I was just another Seam girl, walking to her death. I had no illusions that I would be different. District 12's had only had two victors, ever. And it's not like Haymitch Abernathy is in all that great of a state. Dying didn't seem like the worst thing to me.

The boy reaped was a twelve year old from the nicer part of town. Blond hair and pale skin, everyone would feel bad for him. He would be dead within a day. At least I knew how to hunt.

I didn't fully realize the consequences of my situation until Prim and my mother came running in. They were both crying. I knew I couldn't just accept my fate. This would hurt my family. We already barely scraped by – there's no way they could actually eat if I wasn't around to hunt and trade. Gale wouldn't be able to pick up the slack, especially with him going into the mines next year after the harvest season.

"You have to win," Prim begged.

"I know."

I didn't have enough time to say my goodbyes. A part of me wondered if they did that on purpose. There was no point wasting my time trying to figure out why anyone did anything. I doubt there was any reason to the Capitol masterminds' plans. If there was, it was definitely lost on me.

The peacekeepers had to carry Prim out.

Madge didn't come see me. I didn't blame her – she was never very good with goodbyes.

I peered outside of the door to my waiting room. It vaguely crossed my mind that the chair in the corner is more expensive than my entire house. Somehow, the district could afford that luxury for someone who wouldn't ever sit in it again. Just when I thought that nobody else would come in to see me, the door creaked open. Gale. I barely registered that my legs were moving towards him until I found myself crashing into his chest. He wrapped his arms around me, and I let out a choked sob. He stroked my hair in an attempt to comfort me.

"Shh, shh. Katniss, it's going to be fine," Gale promised, his voice a low whisper.

I blubbered into his shirt. A part of me remembered that this was his one nice Reaping shirt, and that I should have tried to not get snot on it.

"You know how to hunt."

"Animals, not people!"

"It's all the same thing." Somehow, I don't recognize him. The Gale I knew – I thought I knew – wouldn't even suggest doing something like that. "It's going to be okay, Katniss."

I sniffled and wiped my nose on my hand. "You need to promise to take care of Prim. Prim and my mother. Don't let them take anything from the district – it's not worth it. I can't let her zone out again. She has to take care of my sister. And if she can't you have to-"

Gale cut me off with a kiss. Our first. I never thought of us that way, but it made sense. His mouth was warm. Much like the rest of him, it felt so familiar to me. I wondered how long that had been building up. I wondered if there could have ever been an "us". Oh well.

"I'll see you soon, okay?"

"I hope so." I half-smiled, tracing the pad of my thumb over my bottom lip.

Before that day, I had never been in a car. The unpaved gravel roads all over 12 had never bothered me before. But sitting there, bouncing up and down, I felt nauseous. The boy next to me – I wasn't sure if he was my teammate or opponent – sniffled. He was crying. Effie Trinket didn't even stop talking to notice. I squeezed his arm, half-smiling.

"I'm Katniss."

He shrugged. "It doesn't really matter."

I bit my tongue. "What's your name?"

"Tom."

It seemed that Effie noticed I had spoken four whole words to Tom. She perked up immensely. "Aw, you two are getting chummy already! I like you much more than the last ones, they never talked. How boring! You two are going to love the Capitol, it's ah-mazing. And don't get me started on the train ride there. Two hundred miles an hour and you could balance a glass of water on the table. It's so smooth. Nothing like this… automobile."

I decided that I really don't like Effie Trinket. Her complete ignorance of well, everything made no sense to me. She experienced the deaths of tributes every year. Yet somehow, she acted completely unfazed, and even excited about each Games. For the past five or six years she had been coming to 12 as an Escort, she had only gotpeppier. I had to bite down on my lip for the rest of the ride to prevent myself from saying something rude.

Effie wasn't wrong about the train. It was nice, but that didn't mean I liked it. The luxury of a week's worth of food on a table at one time made me feel sick. People had so much while we had gone with so little. The temperature of the car was changed with a push of a button, and there were people to bring me food if I didn't feel like walking to the table or the car over. Everything reminded me of Madge's house. Overly expensive. Unnecessary.

We never talk about the 50th Hunger Games. That specific Quarter Quell had a death count of forty-seven, and it was the second Games to be won by someone from 12. Haymitch Abernathy never left his house in the Victor's Village, except to frequent the liquor tables at the Hob. Once or twice, I saw him over for tea with Madge's mother, when she was feeling better. Outside of that, the only time he was ever in public was when he had to watch the reaping. He was old and miserable.

From what little I knew about my mentor-to-be, I was hardly surprised when he stumbled into the car Tom and I were sitting in. He grunted in our general direction, and vomited into a bucket.

"Drink," he mumbled in Effie's direction.

"We don't have any ice," she gave him a tight lipped smile, motioning to the bucket in his hands. "Besides, isn't it a bit early to be drunk?"

Haymitch sighed deeply, and pushed a button, dimming the lights. "You can't expect me to deal with you sober, darling. Well let's have a look at the fresh meat."

"Hello, I'm Thomas, but you can call me Tom-"

Haymitch cut him off. "Sit down, kid. Look, I'm gonna be honest. You ain't gonna last a week out there. You should enjoy the food, and write a letter to your family saying bye if you've got something to say."

Tom slumped over. His face fell, but I felt my anger rise. I stood up angrily. The rational part of my mind told me that I needed to be on good terms with this man, that he was the only chance I had at possibly surviving. But I ignored that. "What the hell is your problem?"

"Well that's no way for a lady to act, sweetheart. Don't worry, you'll be just as dead as your friend here…" Haymitch trailed off, and then flicked on the light, wincing. "Do I know you from somewhere?"

"The Hob."

"Oh shit, you're the turkey girl, aren't ya?"

I nodded. Haymitch muttered something to himself. "Looks like we've got ourselves a hunter, yeah? Well, why don't we see who our competition is?"

Tom went straight to his room, slamming the car door.

I couldn't help but feel bad for him. Even though me winning would mean his death, Haymitch was just hurtful. "That wasn't very nice of you."

"I've done this twenty-three times, and by the third, I could tell if anyone was worth the effort. That one sure isn't, but you might be, sweetheart."

Effie got Tom out of his room an hour later. We all sat down in the television car and watched the recordings of the other district's reapings.

The other tributes were terrifying. The Careers were brutal-looking and still, somehow beautiful. Besides them, only a few other people caught my eye – a strange looking girl from 5, and a girl from 11. She looked like she had to have only been twelve. She looked nothing like Prim, yet somehow reminded me of her. I felt bile rise in my throat. I may never see Prim again.

Following Haymitch's advice in the Capitol took extreme willpower. For the first two days of training, I went to every station but the weapons, and it killed me. I watched from the camouflage station while spears were thrown, and bit my tongue while throwing knives struck down mannequins. I almost let out a snarl when the girl from 1 tried to use the bow. That was mine. But it was all worth it when I got that training score of 11. Even though it put a giant target on my head, it made me possibly worth investments from sponsors, Haymitch explained.

Tom got a 7 and left his three-course meal untouched.

"Both of you, we need to work on your interview strategies. Any ideas?"

"I'm smart." Tom said, shrugging. I noticed that he shrugged a lot. "I could act smart. I guess."

Haymitch nodded. "That could work kid. And you, any ideas?"

"Not a clue."

"Well, you're not flirty so we can't play up the sexy angle. You can't be yourself, because that would scare anyone with half a wit off. Effie, any suggestions?"

Effie, hearing her name being called, put down her neon green drink and teetered over. I doubt I would ever understand how she was able to walk on those. Today, her hair, lipstick, and dress were all bright green, and the way it contrasted to her tinted pink skin vaguely reminded me of a watermelon. She took a long look at me and pursed her lips.

"Well, you are kind of funny." Effie thought out loud. She scratched her chin with a long, claw-like nail. "Yes, yes you are."

"Thank you, Effie. Apparently she is useful for something. Who'd have known?" Haymitch sneered. I had a hard time telling if the animosity between them was actual dislike, or some twisted type of flirting.

In the course of my three-minute interview, I became somewhat of a style icon. The braid I wore my hair in at the reaping has been seen all over Panem, according to Caesar. My stylist, Cinna, has been booked up for the next seventeen months. And the most prestigious fashion company in the Capitol wanted me as a model, contingent on if I survived, of course. Apparently my body type of "frequently starved" is something desired by women in the Capitol.

"Well, I doubt I'll be able to stay this thin if I keep eating all this amazing food!" I gushed, making most of the audience laugh. It took an inhuman amount of willpower to not roll my eyes or something bitter.

"Well Katniss, my dear friend. I was told that you have a special surprise for us tonight!"

That was my cue. I stood up carefully, wobbling a bit in my shoes. "Well, I know how much you ah-dore my outfits. So my amazing stylist Cinna put together something extra special for you all tonight!"

I spun around carefully, letting my dress fan out around my legs. I watched as the flames licked my calves, and I didn't even feel a burn. The crowd went absolutely wild. I barely heard the buzzer go off over the sound of the cheering.

Caesar Flickerman grabbed my hand in his and raised them up above our heads. "Ladies and gentlemen, Katniss Everdeen, the girl on fire!"

The jealous glare I received from the girl from 2 would usually make me laugh, but I had the feeling she would try and slit my throat.

The games were nothing like I ever could have expected, and they turned me into someone I never thought I could be. The first day, I was fine. I had my small pack with some supplies, and I was able to find water. I made shelter in a tree at nightfall and watched the faces of the fallen tributes light up the night sky.

The bloodbath had been exactly that: ten dead at the end of day one. Tom was still alive.

After what seemed like an eternity, I managed to fall into a restless sleep.

I woke up feeling beads of sweat drip my forehead. I sat up abruptly, almost falling off my branch. The sky wasn't red with sunrise, but with rather fire surrounding me.

I started running.

Flames followed me wherever I ran, tendrils of smoke trailing close behind as well. The further I ran, it seemed, the closer they were to surrounding me. I felt something rise up my left leg, and a part of me knew I was on fire, but the adrenaline and my fear made it painless for the moment. The Girl on Fire was quite literally burning. Even I could appreciate the irony.

I finally reached water, and my mind finally caught up to my body. I howled in pain, knowing I wouldn't be heard. Anyone around me must have been dead for a long time. I tried to clean out the wound, but it was too sensitive. I settled for ripping half of my sleeve off and tying it around the burnt area. The majority of my thigh was burnt. In one section, I thought I could see bone, but I knew that couldn't be possible. It must have been an overreaction from the trauma. I could still walk, but barely. I was moving, and that was all that mattered.

I hobbled along for another hour or so. When I couldn't bear to move another foot, I sat down under a tree. Before I knew it, I was asleep.

I woke up to the feeling of someone leaning over me. I startled up, surprised to find the girl from 11 sitting at my side.

"I was wondering when you were gonna wake up." She smiled at me. I noticed the green plant smeared all over my my leg. "You got a sponsor. Someone thinks you're worth a lot."

I was a little taken aback. "Thanks. I'm Katniss."

"Rue," she stuck out her tiny hand, "allies?"

"Allies."

Rue and I made a good team. She watched my back and made shelter while I found game. I was able to get a small bird that we shared. It was clear she never ate like this at home.

"Where'd you learn to use that?" Rue asked, mouth full of meat.

"My father taught me a long time ago." I put down the rest of my leg and held it out to her. "You hungry?"

She shook her head but I insisted.

That night, the fourth night, there were ten of us left: both tributes from 1 and 2, the boy from 4, the girl from 5, Rue and the boy from 11, and Tom and I. I was surprised he was still around. We knew that it had been too slow in terms of deaths, and that things would get mixed up soon.

We came up with a plan.

The Career Pack – both tributes from 1 and 2 and the boy from 4 – had set up camp right at the Cornucopia, with a large pile of stuff surrounded by bombs. I would waste one of my arrows and blow up the stash.

The next morning, we went to put this into action. It went great, and the blast killed the boy from 4. It was probably less painful than the fate he would have endured, had the rest of the careers seen what had happened to their supplies. But Rue hadn't lit the third fire. Where was she?

I ran and ran, and when I reached her, it was too late. The boy from 1 was taking his spear out of Rue's stomach. Her shirt was stained with red.

Before I even knew what I was doing, I had released an arrow right into his heart. I learned later that his name was Marvel. Not that it made it any easier.

I held Rue as she died.

I wept for her long after her body was taken out.

Four faces were in the sky that night: Marvel, the boy from 4, the girl from 5, and Rue. Three of those deaths were my fault. Six tributes left. They would start interviewing my family and friends back home. What would they say to my mother, to Prim, to Madge, to Gale? Would they be proud of me?

I went to bathe in the stream, and I noticed the too-familiar signs of infection on my leg. My wound had festered. I prayed that Haymitch would cut a deal with some sponsor. I could easily survive to the end, to die abruptly from this. Everything would be for nothing.

That morning at sunrise, clearly the Gamemakers noticed. There was to be a feast at the Cornucopia. Something for each of the six tributes, something they all needed. I was positive my medicine would be there. But everyone knew what the feast really was – a chance to get people together to get their stuff. I had no choice, and made my way to the Cornucopia.

I stood by the tree line, waiting to see if anyone would get his or her pack. I saw the small orange bag with '12' written on it.

The girl from 1 came out of the woods and into the clearing. She was alone. She grabbed her pack and looked around tentatively. She swiped my bag as well. No! I ran out of the bushes and right towards her, ignoring the possibility that she would have allies waiting to back her up. She took out a long knife. She definitely had more experience. I couldn't get that close.

"Just give me what I need, and I won't hurt you." I told her, acting self-assured.

"Not a chance, twelve."

She lunged towards me, and I took a leap backwards, ignoring the searing pain in my leg. She was waving her knife around crazily. I knew that she would end up slashing me. I managed to get an arrow out and fire it into her leg. She fell to the ground. I took her knife out of her hand and stabbed her in the chest. I took out the arrow too. I only had a few left.

The only thing in her pack was a canteen of water and some dried fruit.

I didn't notice the girl from 2 coming up behind me until I was flat on my back. I felt the cool metal of her knife on my throat, and I knew it was over.

"Thanks for killing the bitch for me, I couldn't stand her." The girl from 2 sneered. I was very aware that I had no idea what was going on. "I don't like you, Twelve. But I do appreciate that you got my dirty work out of the way for me. So I'll promise to kill you quick."

She pushed the knife down on my throat, and I felt my blood trickle down my neck. It was warm and wet, and it took a lot of effort to stay still.

"On second thought, I think we could have a lot of fun together, you and me. What do you say, Twelve? I think I'm gonna take my time-"

The girl from 2 was cut off with a loud thud. I see the boy from 11, Thresh, standing over me. I was petrified. He smashed her head in with a rock at least ten times. The canon fired after the second hit. I put my hands up in defense.

"Just this once, for Rue." Thresh warned. He took her pack and his, and he ran back into the forest.

I ran out of the cornucopia faster than I had ever run from anything in my life.

After I was sure I was alone, I allowed myself to treat my leg.

At the end of the night, there were four of us left. Thresh, Tom, myself, and the boy from 2. How was Tom still alive? I had no choice but to lay low.

Three days passed and no one died.

At some point during the night, I awoke to the sound of footsteps. But these didn't belong to a person; it must have been a group of wild animals. Someone told me about stampedes once. I had a feeling this was something similar. Except to this point, I hadn't encountered any large animals in the arena before. Or even tracks, for that matter. The Gamemakers must have placed these here. I heard a loud howl, and I saw Thresh's face light up the sky. I felt upset for someone who I barely knew. He deserved to win more than any of us else. He seemed… good. I only hoped his death was painless.

I didn't have time to mourn. The stampede was coming towards me.

I jumped out of the tree and started running. The only thing I had on me was my smallest pack, my bow and arrows, and the knife I took from the girl from 1. I had a feeling I wouldn't be going back for the rest of the stuff. Not that it mattered. The Games would most likely end tonight.

I knew that the dog-like animals were getting closer. I was too scared to look at them, but I could just tell they were mutts. No wild animal I had ever encountered had had that much force. I found heading towards the Cornucopia. Of course, they would want to draw us out in the open. I found energy I didn't know I had and climbed up on top of the Cornucopia. I was greeted by Tom. He was sitting up there calmly twirling a scythe. Neither of us noticed the boy from 2 until he had his knife around Tom. Tom was quick though, and he drove the curved end of his scythe into the tribute's gut and pushed him off the structure.

I made a choked noise. That was unexpected. "Wow."

"All of you underestimated me. You all thought that I was gangly, useless waste of time. My own mother expected me to die. Well this waste of time has made it pretty far, hasn't he?"

"Tom…" I took a step away from him tentatively.

"Don't Tom me. You're not my friend! You don't know me! Nobody gives a shit about me. None of my brothers volunteered for me, even though some of them probably could have actually done well. But I've made it this far, don't think I'm just gonna lay down my weapons and let you win."

I nodded. "So how do you wanna do this?"

His blond eyebrows furrowed. Tom threw his weapon off the Cornucopia. "Hand-to-hand. We'll do this like real men… or real women in your case."

I was surprised by the pure amount of hatred in his voice. I knew one of us was going to die, but the attitude I had gotten from some of the other tributes was almost reluctance. I had known a few girls back in Twelve who had liked to tease me. But petty teenage drama had nothing on this. What had I ever done to him? I realized he had just told me. It wasn't something I had done, per se. He simply wanted to prove himself. And I could get that. I understood what it was like to not be taken seriously.

I reluctantly put down my bow and took my sheath of arrows off my shoulder. The knife was still tucked into a pocket in my coat, and I pretended to not notice it.

I sighed. "Deal."

He took the first swing. His hand barely grazed my jaw, and I exhaled loudly. We each got a few punches in. He ended up doing something to my right arm that words can't describe. It felt like it wasn't even attached to my torso anymore, and when I moved it, it felt like fire. I knew that I was going to lose. I kicked him in between the legs. It wasn't elegant or fair, really. It was what it was. He crumpled to the ground. I guess Gale wasn't exaggerating when he said how much that hurt. I took the knife from my pocket using my left hand, and drove it through his heart.

The cannon went off. I closed his eyelids with my fingers. "Sorry, Tom." I really was.

The first thing I noticed when I woke up was that my hair was down. The last thing I remembered was seeing the helicraft appear above my head. But here I am, in my bed in the Training Center, scrubbed clean of all the dirt and dried blood. My arm feels better, but the pain is definitely still there. It's nothing I can't deal with.

All the memories of the past week come rushing back to me. I feel like I can't catch my breath. I might as well be running from those flames or have a knife on my throat.

My leg is completely healed. Capitol doctors made new skin to replace the huge patch of my leg that would have been forever scarred. My arm had to be "popped back in". I don't know that that really means, and I'm not sure that I want to. Medical things and injuries in general make me squeamish. I never had the stomach for it like my mother or sister.

The door swings open. My first instinct is to grab some type of weapon.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Haymitch puts his hands up. "Nobody's gonna hurt you, Sweetheart."

Haymitch sits down on the corner of my bed. I prop up a pillow behind me and pull the blanket over my chest. I didn't notice that I was completely nude until Haymitch walked in. "How long was I asleep?"

"Just a little over three hours. They have medicine that helps you recover in no time, so you don't need to make up on all of the lost sleep."

I have a feeling in the pit of my stomach that something is seriously wrong. "What now?"

"We're going to have dinner in a few hours and then you'll have to get ready for your interview with Caesar. Effie has the exact schedule but I didn't think you cared about it that much."

He misunderstands me. "I don't mean for the rest of the day. I mean for the rest of, well, my life."

I don't have any more school to attend, and I'll have so much money that I'll never need a job ever. What will I do to pass the time all day?

He exhales and pushes the call button. An avox shows up a few seconds later.

"Uh, get me something strong on ice. And a vodka soda for her," Haymitch orders. She nods and scampers off. I'm about to protest but Haymitch doesn't let me get a word in. "I'm going to explain everything, and I don't want you to cut me off until I'm done. Save all the questions for the end, okay? And believe me sweetheart, you're gonna need a drink for this."

A/N: Hope you like it so far! All constructive criticism is appreciated! And as always, feel free to shoot me a PM.