Umm... Yeah, so I said that this was a oneshot. I lied... It's not gonna be more than three chapters. I don't own The Hunger Games... And sooo enjoy!

Clove opened her eyes. She propped herself up on her elbow, and then raised a hand to shied her eyes against the blinding white light.

"Rosie! There's another one!" A shadow fell across the befuddled teen. Looking up, Clove could see a flash of white teeth, and the broad shoulders of the male who had spoken. He extended a hand down to Clove. Grasping it, and accepted the unspoken offer of companionship. He pulled her to her feet with ease "So," he began, throwing an arm over Clove's shoulder, "I take it that you were in the Hunger Games?" She gaped at him, mouth opening and closing in shock as she tried to form words. "You'll catch flies."

"Where- How did- What's going- How did you- What's going on?" Clove babbled, her questions overlapping each other. She stumbled, having not paid attention to her feet. She was on a grassy field, wildflowers dotting the landscape in wide patches. Near the edge of the meadow, there was a group of people, a small petite figure with blazing red hair at the foreground. That must be Rosie. Clove thought dazedly. As the boy and Clove strode nearer to the large group, she began to recognize people. The little girl from 11, Rue, the kids that had been taken out earlier in the games. They didn't seem angry, they looked almost happy.

"Hello, my name is Rosie. I was the first tribute to appear here after I was killed by a girl named Elizabeth, she didn't mean to kill me, and she was aiming for the boy who was sneaking up on me. I was 12 when I died. Now, you are here because you are going to be traumatized after your ordeal. Trust me, all tributes are. Even if they are the victors. This place was set up before I got here. There was a note that said so. It wasn't signed, but we can assume that it was a 'higher power'. So, what's your story?" The newly identified Rosie informed Clove of situation. Clove gulped.

"Umm... My name is Clove. I was a tribute in the 74th Hunger Games and I was killed by a boy named Thresh. I didn't really want to be in the games... But I was, and for my family, I had to present myself as a killer. Someone that wouldn't be messed with, someone that couldn't be defeated," her voice was small and timid when she began, but gained power as she went on.

A hand fell on her shoulder. She looked up at the shadowed face of the boy. "Clove," he said softly, "that's all behind you. Here, we are all the same. Here we love unconditionally. Here we are family."

Rosie chuckled. "Mace, what a wonderful pep talk. And very true... Clove, all you, we aren't enemies. Live here how you couldn't love before." Clove nodded, the lump in her throat making it impossible to speak.

TIME SKIP!

Clove grinned at the boy sprawled on the ground with a vague expression. "Hello, Thresh. Welcome to our salvation." He stared in silence at her outstretched hand. After a while of disbelieving staring, Thresh spoke.

"Thanks. Is Rue here?" Thresh hefted himself up. Clove laughed.

"We are all here. All tributes from all the Games. From all the 73 Hunger Games. Here, we are freer than we will ever be. Come on, you have to meet some people." They raced across the meadow.

Until Cato appeared, Clove and Thresh settled in and came to see that their fate was far better than the victors'. That's how they all think. The victors come later, much later. They are all Victors.