Disclaimer; I own nothing.
This is my first story so any helpful criticism would be really great. Sorry about grammar and spelling mistakes but I hope you still enjoy.
Prologue.
Luck running out.
Ghost's POV.
Shifting, the flames slowly dying as the cold wind picks up slightly bring a deeper chill to the frigid air I try to gain more warmth as the men sitting next to me on the dead log mimic my actions or a slight variation of them as I pull the golden brown wolf skin cloak tighter. Beside me, tightening his own grip on a greyish, black wolf skin cloak my friend Marcus sits, lost in the dwindling flames as with one hand he spins his rifle on the cold, frosted iced ground.
"Rub your chest... your arms will take care of themselves." telling the shivering, teeth chattering newbie that joined up three days ago. Here, on the front lines of the war in District Seven. Sure nearly all the other Districts, with the exception of Two and one had openly declared war against the Capitol the front line was considered the place with the heaviest, dangerous fighting which happened to be where we, where I was. For now though a small respite in amidst the chaos and death this war, one essentially caused by me and my mouth had caused its one of the reason I choose now to speak very little, if anything.
"Arrg... I hate the cold, I hate the war and I hate this sitting around!" stomping the butt of the rifle against the ground a few times I let Marcus rant, it's true that it's hard to sit around during a war, the constant threat of danger, of attack means you can never really shut off. Add cold weather and it's a winters hell on earth and for Marcus that's just plain lunacy. He's big bulky and incredibly strong, in physic and features. What with his strong jaw, hardened face, jet black hair with silver streaks running through it for a man in his mid-forties he's doing well. He is a man of little words, not that he doesn't speak a lot but his comments are short and to the point with everyone following them without question, his greater actions are his actions during combat. Repeatedly he, along with myself have forgone Intel, orders and even the occasional order from Thirteen to rescue or free POW or just people in need. As Marcus said Thirteen isn't their leader but a long forgotten one that is just tagging along for the ride, finding out that the war broke out in the District during the Games, long before finding out District Thirteen revealed itself was a shock but thinking about it not overly surprising. So saying Marcus is a hero of Thirteen isn't exact and he himself doesn't refer to himself like that but merely as a solider fighting for the District's freedom. His cause for joining the war is noble at least, mine comes out of some sort of twisted guilt believing that should I had just died in the first Games none of this death of war that has befallen the people would have happened. So I joined to right my wrongs and also, if I'm being truthful to myself to escape things but I can't or won't thin, dwell on them. I can't change them and that's final.
Suddenly, the noise of approaching footsteps causes most men to fall silent, Marcus included. Two men, both clad in District Thirteen Major uniforms stand before us.
"Your present is required at the command tent!" the fatter of the two speaks, though both aren't that fat it's the only way I'm choosing at the moment to differentiate them.
"Ohhhh... really, well would you like to tell me who sent for me and before you answer know that I am a Colonel and my second is a Lieutenant Colonel. So address us properly or I'll have you both whipped." Marcus in, what I find incredibly funny and scary says in a high-pitched voice out the norm from his usually deep voice. Both grit their teeth, my guess being they've heard or interacted with us before and we just haven't clicked yet that our squad can be a handful at times.
"It is a request sir, Orders being sent through from District Thirteen, your-"
"I'd stop there, she not our President, she's not a President she a leader of a bunch of mole people, coward bastards that had to wait for a young girl and boy to start something so they could jump in. go fuck yourself and tell that bitch to find a man, maybe then she would be so up tight and Damn right rude!" the last part cause laughter to erupt from the squad, Marcus having spoken it in the best posh accent he could do and it was good. Even I join in the laughter and earn a slap on the back.
"Good! Good! Ghost has even got in on the laughter, god you two must be a joke for this dead sack to have a laugh." the two guards round on their heels and head off, no doubt they'll find someone higher ranking than us and who we respect more to get us to go. Which we will.
As the laughter dies down, newbie being new here decides to pipe up and start a game of 20 questions, the first being for me.
"Why do they call you Ghost?"
it's a fair enough question, one I've been asked many times before and the answer is a continued surprise for people.
"Long story newbie but live long enough and he'll tell you. Surprised is what you'll be but guess it right before he tells you and 700 big ones go to you!" Marcus yells, earning a few whoops from the others, it was started seven months ago, me having been here for little over 12months and as of yet no one haw been able to guess correctly. I pick myself up of the log and head to the edge of the fire light, standing now half shrouded in darkness as Marcus joins me.
"why did we start calling you ghost, a good name but not one for your sunny deposition and attitude." I try hiding the small smile that forms on my lips. "oh that's right, your ability to sneak up on someone, honestly never would have thought the loudest boy alive would turn into the deadliest man I know. Comical."
"Your not the only one I know who'd say that." I tell him, my mind wandering dangerously close, back to that time all those long months ago. Hard to believe that a year had passed in this war, that I hadn't seen anyone from my home District or that of the others I came to know in all that time. Sure I've seen them, pro-pos and other such things but to actually meet them again face to face... not happened and with any luck it's not going to happen. I've put that... that part of my life behind me, only looking forward, only moving forward and it's great. Or at least that's what I try to tell myself late at night when I'm alone and my demons close in around me. As we continue to stare out into the darkness, the soft light and mummers of the soldiers our only company everything is interrupted by the crunching of snow under boot. The soft, yet crisp sound growing louder and louder as three people by the sound of it approach and turning only solidifies that thinking because there standing between the two Thirteen Major's is the second in command of District Seven's force. A small, round-faced plump man with rosy cheeks comes, almost wheezing his way towards us.
"This should be good." Marcus breathes out as we both turn and look upon them.
"Gentlemen."
"You'll find none here, honest men yes but gentle... look to your friends here for that."
"Marcus please, they're not here to fight. We have enough fighting with the capitol. Commander Cedar would like the presence of both you and ghost in the command centre. A matter of great importance has arisen that requires both your involvement."
"Should be fun." with those words and our curiosity peaked we follow towards the command tent and our matter of great importance.
Entering into the command centre, noticing the buzz of Argentines as people move and bump around, some into me, some into Marcus who promptly shoves them back yet they either don't care or are too busy to notice. Cedar stands in the centre of the area, barking orders left and right, things being roughly shoved at him to which he equally takes. He's a standard size man, my height, lean but not without muscle though he is an expert at knife fighting and always has one on hand. Though his booming voice and glare is enough to make any soldier tow the line.
"Marcus! Ghost! get over here!" though shout he visibly looks relieved as we make our way over, he's a good man, honest as Marcus say and has a head of tactical war. Perfect for the front lines.
"Sir!" both of us echo, saluting him but get a wave off in return.
"Enough of the formalities I've got a lot to plan because of President Coin-"
"She not President, she a fucking mayor!" Marcus yells, he really does have a problem with Coin and put of me feels guilty for never really asking why.
"Marcus! I'm not going to start this argument again, needless to say Coin has decided to send in some film crew to get a few shots of the area. Of the recent front lines."
"i thought this still was?" I question because the tone of his voice is telling me different.
"Sorry but the front lines where officially moved to inside District Six three days ago." well that's just fine and dandy but not to me and Marcus.
"Why the hell weren't we told to move! We've been freezing our asses off for nothing!"
"Not for nothing, Coin requested the best protection for this stupid idea. I tried to protest but nothing would be heard of it. We're playing host to a group of camera men then you and ghost are to go back to Thirteen for some R&R. One week, then back to the lines."
"We better be." Marcus's voice low and filled with anger. Again the hate for District thirteen is there, in the norm we'd be sent to the closest safe District. A nice war bed, hot water then back out but being sent to thirteen well that be something new. I'd need to stay hidden but the benefits of a warm shower, bed and hot food three times a day would be a look forward but there's a nagging part of my brain that suddenly clicks. Camera crew... Mockingjay.
"Squad number!" I almost yell, voice raised in slight panic.
"325." fuck, a close call. We've dealt we these pricks before, they'll be done before long and on their merry way. I know the victor's squad number off by heart 451V the only squad with a letter. The "V" standing for victor and they'd never get the squad number wrong for something like the Mockingjay filming. Our squad number, me and Marcus the only two of the original is 141 just part of the many.
"Get some rest, your up at 0700 hours."
"Thank you sir!" with that we salute and head away, both agreeing that this will be fucked up and boring before separating and heading off to our own tents. A perk of being a lieutenant Colonel, your own space and as I close the flap to the tent climbing onto the bunk and under the thin, useless covers that do offer some warmth I fall into the darkness of my nightmares and the demons that await me.
-Nightmare-
"This isn't a game! People die and you aren't cut out for any real fighting!"
"Anything anyone has done for you is save your ass!"
"You should have died, I'd be happy!"
"Your not a victor, victors don't let themselves be carried through the Games! Nor let a little girl reduce them to a crying bubbling mess!"
"Your worthless and your family is better off dead, at least they don't have to live with the embarrassment of you!"
I just shirk away from the voices, from the images of the faces, of the people who shout them at me. The words hurting me more than any type of physical pain could.
The words cut deep, embedding themselves into my mind, deep into my heart and part of me will always believe them to be true not amount of persuasion will ever change that. A flog mist hazes over my vision and I'm left with images of all those people walking away, my family included in them and the one that cuts deep.
My dad.
Seeing his disappointed face, falling even more at the sight of my crumpled body I lose it, screaming my lungs out. Repeatedly repeating "They're right" over and over again, going as far as to carve it into my skin.
I'll never forget.
-End of nightmare-
Waking up, the voice of someone cutting through the darkness I sit up straight, wrenching the knife I hand grasped beneath my pillow out and facing who ever interrupted my beauty sleep.
"Sorry sir... it's 0600." with that he leaves.
"Thanks..." I mumble into the cold, ice morning air, sheathing the knife back into the holster and I'm to dazed to ever registrar who it was but part of my brain works and the rest slowly gets going as undress and wash before suiting back up. It's been some time since my dreams portrayed pass events like that to me. The truthful words still burning in my ears as I try to block them out. Must have been yesterdays scared that got them to act up so vividly.
Sighing I leave the tent, holstering my rifle over my shoulder, hand ghosting over my side arm, over my knifes as I make my way to the sweet smell of morning stew. The best you can get out here so sitting with the rest we wait for the time to come, for our moment with the cameras. Fuck and my thoughts are mimicked by others.
"Is there no way to get out of this... I mean come on who wants to prance around for a couple of cameras!" the thought is grumbled in agreement by the others.
"No point in moaning, we'll get it over with and have them on their way." Marcus tells everyone and we grumble. Seems all anyone's willing to do these days. Slowly the minutes tick by until the time is upon us, standing in the opening awaiting the arrival of the hovercraft and squad 325 but u have a nagging feeling. Something isn't right, like a itch at the back of my head that won't go away. Looking around nothing is sitting right, sure they'd need a protection team but why us, why 141 and not only that but the added thirteen presence. About three teams worth. Nothing is right about this.
"Marcus, something is wrong. What's with all the added security?"
"I've noticed..." the closing footsteps behind us cause him to pause, tensing. "Commander Cedar, what are you keeping from us?" angrily asking, the whole team waiting for the response.
"451V will be arriving in 6 minutes."
with those words my nightmare, flashback hits me like a train and the air leaves my body. Gasping I try to regain it but nothing works and I know right there I'm having a panic attack.
"Ghost breathe!... Breathe... in... and out... in... and out..." he repeats it for a few minutes, my breathing hollowing out before turning to Cedar.
"You should have fucking told us! we had a right to know!"
"Calm down Colonel!" barking back at Marcus. "You weren't informed for two reason. First being Seven is still classified unsafe and secondly every-time that squad gets within spitting distance of you and ghost you jump out. Command would like the victor to personally meet two of the bravest men, who are changing the face of the war. You and ghost have built a reputation around yourselves. Now people want to meet you two so relax, enjoy the praise and-"
"Wear lipstick boys! your about to kiss the arses of royalty."
"Marcus... watch yourself, they might not-"
"I don't care anymore commander, we should have been told!" letting Marcus help pick me up I pull the mask from my back pocket, slipping it on. The ghost emblem covering my face, putting the sunglasses on to hide my eye's, no doubt the Mockingjay would be able to tell and then we see it before we hear it. A black object in the sky, heading towards us and growing bigger. Hoisting my rifle I peer through the scope and see the large imprint of red on the side of the craft.
451V.
It lands in-front of us, the rhythmic unlocking of bolts and locks as the door opens up, resting on the iced ground, the frosted earth breaking beneath it I watch as person after person disembarked before standing before us.
"Victors welcome to District Seven."
Katniss, Haymitch, Finnick and Johanna stand there dressed in armour, armed with deadly looking version of the arena weapons. Only Haymitch carries a rifle, Gale as well and the few soldiers that stand next to them.
"Victors, Mockingjay I'd like to introduce you to 141 squad leaders, Marcus and ghost." we all stand there, me and Marcus standing looking and the same for them.
Let the games begin.
"Don't mind ghost, he is sparse in words but make up for in actions." I roll my shoulders, shuffling a pace quicker than the group as we crunch through the snow towards the remnants of District Seven's town. These places are quickly becoming know as the District's desolation.
"How many people have died?"
"A lot!..." I snap, mental chastising myself for the outburst but choose to cover it up. "It's war, people die. A lot of people. Reality." I finish before continuing to walk ahead, Marcus quickly getting to my side.
"Easy..."
"Sorry, outburst. Couldn't help but ask a stupid question and..."
"Yeah I understand." we continue in silence or me and Marcus in silence as the commander explains things to the others but out of the blue a sound of crashing causes everyone to stop dead. Guns raised and others kneeling, ready to battle.
"This place is falling apart, don't get jumpy." Marcus warns them, nodding to me I shoulder my rifle and carefully but quickly move my way towards the building and sound. Entering the building, the ashes covering everything, all the burnt remains of someone's past life. Looking around I quickly spot the disturbance, a small bird bouncing its way across the remains of the beams and that even under that small weight break before it flutters off out of one of the wholes.
"You don't speak much do you?" spinning I'm face to face with Katniss Everdeen, the Mockingjay and my biggest weakness, my biggest fear.
"Can only bring pain." I reply shortly. This will be one-sided and not very productive because I plan on not speaking though around Katniss I've never been able to follow my original plan.
"You should be with the protection team Mockingjay, it's not safe." she nods but clearly isn't listening because she makes no move to leave and I look her over. She's slightly taller, hair slightly longer but she looks tired, worn out and... depressed, if only a little but what catches me off is the watering in the corner of her eye's. "I said you need to go-" I'm cut off by her actions next as she surges forward and grabs my mask. Me reacting by instinct pull back and away giving her all she needs so I'm left mask-less and face bear to her and completely stunned.
"katni-"
it's as far as I get before she's on me, lips and body pressed against mine as her hands roughly grip my head and tangle through my hair. I'm not sure how long we stand there lips lock but soon we start moving them, me running my tongue along her lip and instantly she opens as the spark causes us both to jump, moan when our tongues touch each others. My hands travel down her armour, feeling it hugging close to her showing off all her growing womanly curves before resting on her ass. Gently but with a firm grip I grasp each one, her moans increasing into my mouth before hoisting her into my arms and setting her down onto one of the few things still standing. The table is perfect for her and for me, as I settle in between her legs which she promptly, tightly wraps around my waist my hands resting on her thigh's. As great as this and how my body, my heart are telling me to keep going my mind speaks up, telling, compelling me to stop this because it can only lead to heart-break and to drive its point home last nights nightmare runs through and I break the kiss off. Backing away from her.
"why did you come here Katniss? Why request me?" my voice going back to indifference and I hide the guilt I feel when pain flashes across her face.
"Be... because of you I came for you."
"That still doesn't answer my question, why Katniss? Last time I checked everything was made very clear that I had no place among you victors." there it is, the guilt written all over her face.
"just your guilt driving you to say sorry. Huh should have known." she looks like she about to speak but I cut her off. "Don't Katniss, just don't because I don't want anymore lies, I've made a good thing here for myself, you've got yours back in thirteen with Gale. Just go and forget about me."
"NO! I don't have Gale!, I don't want Gale and I never will. It's you Peeta, only you... I've missed you so much, tried to find you and failed until now. I haven't been like that with Gale... please Peeta. I know I did so many things wrong and I'm so... so sorry but please don't ask me to leave you again. I can't... I can't let you go again."
"it's not your choice Katniss."
"Where are you, where the boy who fell in love with me, that's been in love with me since he was five, that promised me forever and always. Where is he? Because I want him back."
I look up at her watery eye's and I break, ready to tell her everything, that I'm standing right her and will stay with her but then I stop. My face growing hard and if I was paying attention to Katniss I would have seen the terror across her face, she probably thinks I'm going to reject her but the bright red light that flashed across my eye set all alarms off because I know exactly what it was.
"DOWN!" I shout, right in her face as I grab her shoulders and shove her downwards and to my left as the first bullet enters the house hitting my shoulder instead of the back of her head. Then all hell breaks loose as a storm of bullets are fired. Ignoring the burning pain in my shoulder, shielding Katniss body with my own as the house is turned into burnt wood-chip I drag her across the floor.
"Move Katniss, MOVE!" I yell to her, getting her through the door and into the back of the house. "MARCUS!" his voice booming through my radio as I can here the same gunfire on his side.
"Ghost where under attack pinned down outside, two doors from your location! Film crew is capitol, I repeat film crew is capitol!" just coming in as the back door burst opening. I stand, hoisting my rifle up only for it to be kicked down, letting it go freely I draw my side arm as the other grabs my arm and pulls it to the side, the bullets missing both but my knife. Unsheathing it and spinning I slam it into the jugular of the first one but am left open and defenceless to the other. He doesn't get a chance before his head is impaled with an arrow, right through the eye. Turning I see Katniss, bow drawn and shaking violently. I kneel down, pushing her bow down to before softly but quickly calling her.
"Katniss... Katniss!... Katniss!" my voice rising in the end to break through to her and it does, her head whipping around to face mine, grey eye's boring into my blue one's
"Peeta..."
"We need to go! Know!" I don't wait for an answer but grab her hand and my rifle before running out the back door, knowing that the only safe place is the command centre.
"Ghost!, capitol has disengaged us and are on your tail, heading to intercept."
"Copy, I have the Mockingjay and are on route to nest, need reinforcements."
"Already en-route 3 minutes out." Cedar's voice breaking through to us and we run and run. Not to long, though feeling longer we are met with our group reinforcements, surrounding us, barking order before they quickly realise it's us and begin to help. We set up a defence before the pursuers get to us, only it's not who we where expecting because it Marcus and the other victors slightly bruised and bloodied but them none the less.
"MARCUS? what the hell!?"
They broke off, disappeared..." wheezing out breathes he straightens himself up before his eye's go wide. "PEETA!" it's only then do I feel it, something cold, a very specific spot and ghosting my fingers over it, bring them to eye line they're covered it warm, sticky blood. My blood.
"Shit..." as I look to Marcus and drop to the ground.
"PEETA!" Katniss's screams ring through my ears as everything gets colder and darker. "No... no... no.. please Peeta. Please don't go... stay with me..." she begs me and how I want to cradle her face in my hands whip away her tears and just feel her lips against mine I don't think I will but that doesn't stop my answer before complete darkness.
"Always"
Looks like my luck finally ran out.
A/N; so that's the prologue, hope you enjoyed and any feed back is great. I gave a brief glimpse as to what drove Peeta and the victors apart but I'll explain that in more detail, as well as Marcus and his relation with Peeta. Though till next see you all later :-)
Elsa15