Katniss Everdeen is dreaming.
She's in a dim, rocky tunnel. She doesn't see anyone, but she can hear voices, clanging, sounds of machinery. She's walking, but the farther she walks, the harder it is to breathe. The air is foul, and her lungs start to burn. Her body feels like lead.
"Run!" someone shouts. Katniss tries to, but she can't move. There are sounds of crashing rocks, agonized cries, shouts of fear. For a split second, she thinks she sees her father's face in the gloom. The walls start crumbling around her.
She tries to scream, but no sound comes from her mouth.
Peeta Mellark is dreaming.
He's holding Katniss in his arms. He feels happy, blissful even. Katniss is warm and soft in his hold, and he can feel her heart beating against his chest. He closes his eyes, savoring the moment. Right here, right now, everything is perfect. He buries his face in her neck and smiles.
Gale Hawthorne is dreaming.
He's walking through the woods he knows so well. He's not hunting - there are no weapons in his hands. He's just . . . walking. He doesn't know where he's going, but he doesn't care.
The trees part in front of him, and Gale finds himself on the rock ledge overlooking the valley. His place. Catnip's place. He sits down, deciding to wait for her. She'll be along soon, he thinks. Gale stares off over the valley, and watches a flock of geese flying overhead. Suddenly, he notices a far off movement on one of the hills. It's Catnip, he realizes, standing. She's walking over a distant hill, and he can just make out the packs she's carrying. Is she leaving? Without him? Gale shouts her name, but she doesn't hear him. That's when he sees that she's not alone. She's holding the hand of that boy, the blond baker. Gale shouts louder, but Catnip still doesn't hear. He tries to move, to run down the valley toward her, but his feet refuse to obey him. The last thing he sees before he wakes is Catnip and the boy, disappearing over the hill.
Madge Undersee is dreaming.
She's standing in the middle of District Twelve's square. Despite knowing where she is, she feels overcome by a sense of confusion. She doesn't know where to go, where she needs to be. She turns and turns, trying to figure out which street to take. A tear of frustration runs down her cheek.
She feels a warm hand touch hers, and she looks up into the eyes of Gale Hawthorne. "Hello," he says, smiling. "Do you want a strawberry?" He holds a berry out to her. Madge smiles back and pops the strawberry into her mouth. It's delicious. Sweet and juicy. She stands on her toes and places a kiss on Gale's cheek.
"Come on," he says. He takes her hand and together, they walk out of the square.
Haymitch Abernathy is dreaming.
He's in a brightly lit square room that is completely covered in photographs. The ceiling and the walls are plastered, the floor is littered with them. Haymitch steps to the nearest wall and inspects the first picture that catches his eye. It's a picture of a small skinny girl, standing in a crowd of people. Haymitch recognizes the girl. She was the first tribute he ever mentored. And he recognizes the scene - it's the Reaping.
Feeling uncomfortable, he starts to move along the wall. The next picture he spots is also of the girl. She's laughing next to a man who Haymitch guesses is her father. He keeps moving, and realizes that all the pictures are of the tribute girl. There she is crying. Another photograph shows her eating with her family. As Haymitch continues moving, the pictures start to change. Now they are of the Games. Most of them are horrible, graphic images of her death; being gutted by a girl from Four.
Haymitch chokes down bile and hurls himself through the door of the room. But he's back in the room. No, he realizes. I'm in a different room, full of different pictures. This time the photos are of the tribute boy from his tenth year. He tries to leave, but every time he exits a room he appears in another. And now they're all of the Games. All awful, all violent, all horrifying.
Haymitch collapses on the floor.
Finnick Odair is dreaming.
He's in his old fishing boat, the old his father gave to him on his twelfth birthday. The sun is shining, the ocean is sparkling. There's a cool breeze tickling his ears. Finnick is happy.
"Hey Finn," comes a gentle voice from behind him. He turns around and sees Annie sitting on the bench. Before he can say anything, Annie stands up and leans into him, circling her slender arms around his waist. She sighs contentedly. Finnick wraps his arms around her shoulders.
"Hey Annie," he whispers into her soft hair.
Annie Cresta is dreaming.
She's back in the Games. All around her is fighting. Blood and corpses litter the ground. Annie has no weapons. She can't think, she can't speak. Panic wells up inside her, so that she can't even move.
The scene changes. She's hiding behind a tree as she watches her District partner fight a Career. Annie remembers it all clearly, as if it were yesterday. The Career swings his sword and decapitates her partner in one swift move. The rolls toward Annie and stops, the gruesome face staring straight at her. But it's not her partner's face anymore. It's Finnick's.
Annie screams.
Johanna Mason is dreaming.
She's walking through a familiar patch of forest. She doesn't remember how she got there, but she continues walking. As she walks, she snaps of small twigs from the huge pine trees, just like she does whenever she walks in her forest. Picking off the pine needles one by one, she snaps them in half and holds them to her nose, inhaling their sharp scent. This is what home smells like, Johanna thinks.
For a short time, she is at peace.
Coriolanus Snow is dreaming.
His dream doesn't involve images. They are thoughts, circling and bumping around his head. He dreams of control. Everything in his country working, fitting together just as it should be. The Districts knowing their place and submitting to authority. No rebellions. No unrest. Just perfect, unblemished control.
This, this is really what The Hunger Games are about, he thinks to himself. They are about control. The cruelty, he reflects, is a necessary evil. The loss of lives are a means of controlling the chaotic. If only everyone would understand this, he thinks, almost regretfully. Of course, there is a certain satisfaction to be had in watching a troublemaker being tortured or executed.
An image of a girl, dressed in a gown of fire flashes in his mind. She was certainly one problematic rebel who needed punishing. The Girl on Fire indeed, Snow thinks distastefully.
Well. What was the old saying? Fight fire with fire. In his sleep, the corners of Snow's mouth snake upwards into the smallest of smiles. We'll see who burns longest.
Primrose Everdeen is dreaming.
She's at home, cuddling Buttercup. She strokes his tangled fur and watches her big sister cleaning a rabbit. Her mother is chopping some greens and filling a pot with water to cook dinner. Her father is singing as he applies some oil to his traps. Katniss finishes her grisly task, washes her hands in a basin and comes up to Prim. Katniss sits down on the floor next to her sister and scoops her up onto her lap, cat and all.
Primrose snuggles into her sister happily. She smells the meat cooking and her stomach grumbles. Katniss is running her fingers through Prim's fair hair, and their parents smile at them lovingly.
Here, it's safe, Prim thinks. Here, it's warm.
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