As scared as anyone, Gale races back and forth across the square. His face is a numb mask of steadiness, but his insides protest in fear. He's been burned, and badly. It's hard to keep running.
Posey's in his arms, weeping. He tries to soothe her, but there's little he can do now. She knows what this means, the fire and the planes. They're going under. They're heartfelt protest has failed.
He gives a gasp, spotting Mrs. Everdeen at last. He thrusts Posey into her arms. "The rest of my family's on the plane from District 13. You go, I'll get Prim."
"Wait! Gale!" she shouts, looking so much younger than he, even though she is his mother's age. "What – where –" At a loss for which question to ask, she glances up to the Hunger Games. It is as if Katniss is watching them, keeping them safe, even though they are the ones watching her.
"It'll be fine," he yells back, uncertain what else to possibly say. "Go!" She nods, going to the plane like he asked. Posey is still crying, but she'll be back with Hazelle in a moment.
In a moment of miraculous relief, he spots Prim and scoops her up. She's wailing, but there's nothing he can do right now. He sets off, ready to get them to safety, when the tip of the blue flame hits the TV screen. It goes up at once, the whole set engulfed. He does a double take, unable to help it. It looks as if Katniss's hair is bright and orange, rather than the silky black he remembers so well. She is the girl on fire, after all. Shaking his head, he realizes he can't do this now. And he runs.
Prim looks left and right, wishing she could see somebody. Anybody. But there's only smoke, and even the people running don't look familiar at all. She feels sweat soak her skin and shirt, infinite due to the panic and heat.
She runs, her little feet hardly making a dent in the crowd. There are flames up ahead. She won't make it, even if she keeps on running. Ready to fall to her knees and give up, she thinks of her sister, and her sister's bravery. The Hunger Games still plays on a platinum screen, even as District 12 goes under.
Just when she thinks it's hopeless, Gale grabs her from behind. His arms are shaky but stable, just like at the Reaping. He holds her steady, carrying her away from the fire and the mob.
"Come on, we'll get you to safety," he says.
But all she can think about is her mother and her sister, and how she doesn't know where they are. She watches her old house, the one she grew up in, burning down to smoldering fragments. And she screams.
Mrs. Everdeen sits inside the plane, crammed against a wall. She watches people she knows – people she's healed – run inside, gasping from the smoke that pervades their lungs. They have their children in theirs hands, holding onto them like any parent should, and she feels jealous in spite of it all.
She sinks down onto a beat up couch, Posey still on her lap. Posey will stay with her, until another Hawthorne comes back. Without thinking about it, she smoothes Posey's hair, wishing that she could comfort her own children. But Gale is getting Prim, and Katniss…
Hazelle comes back then, Rory and Vick on either side of her. They clutch her hands, theirs expressions stricken. Hazelle takes Posey, offering words of consolation to both of them.
Mrs. Everdeen shakes her head, staring out the meager window. "Gale's trying to find Prim," she whispers, her voice choked. Her face goes down to her waiting hand, hiding herself from them. Someone, probably Hazelle, pats her back. She shakes her head, back and forth, back and forth. She can't live through this anymore. She doesn't feel strong enough. And she falls apart.
Plutarch Heavensbee stares blankly at the television, his face set like marble. He must appear to be on the Capitol's side, for only one day more.
But everything is going according to plan. Everything. In the districts, in his Hunger Games. Beetee has relayed his plan to use the lightning, and the people from District 12 are being brought to safety, as their homes and former lives are obliterated. Alright, so they hadn't quite expected that. District 12 was weak, though. They can afford to spare it, especially if the others will gain freedom. And most of the people are getting out alive… aren't they?
He clears his throat, gingerly sipping tea from a mug. His attention returns to the Games. His Games. They're all doing brilliantly, following the plan exactly. Still, as he catches his unmoved reflection in the glow of the picture, he has to wonder. He has been told by many times that it takes a certain sort of man to stomach the Hunger Games. To stomach the creation, and then the realization of it all. It's one thing for someone on the Capitol's side to live with, but another entirely for a rebel. Rebels are supposed to be the ones with the hearts. He has a heart, he tells himself. But then Johanna pushes Katniss to the ground, saving their plan liked he'd hoped she would. He nods, ignoring the scared betrayal that Katniss must feel at this very moment. And he smiles.
Haymitch is in the hovercraft, shaking his head at the news reports. So much fire, so many buildings burnt. Their lives seem to have ignited, the moment Katniss set through them.
Despite the tragedy, he feels slightly vindicated. There is a wind in his chest, causing his heart to beat with renewed spirit. This is for all of those who have died in the Hunger Games. This is for the nightmares he's had to blot out with alcohol, dimly aware that this haunted survival was the lucky part.
He sits in his chair, swigging some wine in mock celebration. He's alone, after all, and they haven't accomplished anything yet. What's to celebrate? But they're getting closer, and he can feel it on his skin. He only hopes they'll be able to keep it up, this spirited revenge. He continues to drink and to watch, knowing that there's nothing else he can do. Yet. And he waits.
Johanna is down in the Hunger Games, saving Katniss's life with as much annoyance as she can muster. Brutus and Enobaria move closer, and then –
She loses sight and Enobaria moves off some place. She doesn't know where. She runs after, caution soaring far behind her. It doesn't matter, now. They've done what they could, and if the District 12 girl is too stupid to let this happen, then there's nothing she can do about it.
Spotting Chaff up ahead, she stops to pant. It's hard to tell who are the allies, but everyone knows that one and two are the enemies. Gazing up at the top of the arena, she wonders if they'll get it at all. Maybe. Maybe not.
Her moment of thought costs her, and there is a loud crack. The world seems to combust, she thinks, as the debris of an explosion surrounds them. She can see, no one, and no one can see her. Vaguely, she is aware of a plane getting her. They did it, though, and nobody can take that away. And she laughs.
Finnick falls to the ground. It's not up to him, at this point. Beetee passed out. Something happened with Johanna and Katniss. He can only hope and pray that someone realized what's going on.
His eyes close and he thinks of Annie. Mags too, but it's Annie's face that appears first. He thinks of them, and he hopes that all of this is worth it for them. He feels he's falling, remembering Mags' bitter end as the world erupts around them.
Annie won't be waiting, he knows. He wants her to be, so badly, but she won't be. He thinks he's still falling, but then he's hears the sound of a plane. They land right on ground level, loading everyone they can on board. It's too late for some, but not for him yet. And he flies.
Time passes, and eventually Katniss learns the truth. She scrapes her fingernails down Haymitch's face, loathing him for doing this to her. To them.
She stalks back to the room she shares with Finnick, not wanting to listen to him. His apologies won't change anything, now. It's too late. Fuming, she shakes and cries, missing Peeta more than she ever has before. But it hurts worst of all because she's beginning to doubt that it was worth it. This rebellion.
She stares at the wall, not wanting to live or to listen at all. Peeta's been taken from her, thanks to them, and it's too late to go back now. She's done with it. And she hates.
Peeta is in the Capitol's prison, with Johanna strapped to table beside him. They've taken Enobaria somewhere else. He lies perfectly still, his thoughts oddly swimming around his head. They can't speak – there are straps over their mouths – otherwise he would ask Johanna what's going on.
He is scared. Katniss isn't with them, and while that doesn't mean much, it still alarms him. They could have killed her already, if they'd wanted to. They could have taken her to a place that she'll never return from. He could never see her again.
Inhaling and exhaling, he tries to focus on happier thoughts. What they will to do him, even, seems a cheery prospect next to the idea of Katniss being hurt. Shutting his eyes, he tries to picture her face. Strong and sturdy, stuck tightly to the inside of his mind. His worst nightmare has come true, then. He's lost her. But what is there to do? He tries to fight against the restraining metal, but it doesn't budge. They've trapped him here; they've trapped them all. He can't do anything besides remember.
Without a regretless sigh, he allows thoughts of her to encompass what's left of his sanity. And he loves.
A/N: Reviews would be much appreciated! Thanks for reading!