A/N: Thanks for the reviews! I'm glad you guys like it so far:) Here is chapter 2, it is kind of short, but the next chapter will be longer. I'll try and update in about 2 days. Keep the reviews up, I love your feedback.
[2.] "She's alive?" I breathe, not able to accept the words I'm hearing. My beautiful, sweet, wise beyond her years Primrose is still alive? How can it be? I thought I watched her burn up in front of me, flames engulfing her small body and swallowing her whole. I remember waking from my nightmare with that image fresh on my eyelids. Maybe that was the only part that wasn't real. My mind was confusing what happened. Prim lives.
"She is," Peeta confirms. "But she doesn't look good. She's very badly burned, much worse than you. They say it will take her many months to heal her skin. That is, if she makes it through the next couple of weeks without catching an infection. This is going to be a rough time for her, she could still…" Peeta thankfully doesn't say die. I can't bear to hear I may still lose Prim.
"Where is my mother?" I ask, changing the subject. "Is she all right?"
"She's here, in the hospital. She's been helping with the injured. There are so many. The other medics wouldn't let her be involved with you or Prim's surgeries, so she's been working non-stop elsewhere, waiting to hear how you both are doing. She must not have heard you've woken up or she'd be here by now." Peeta rises slowly from his chair and leans down to place a quick kiss on my temple. "I'll find her."
He leaves, and I drift off, unaware until that moment how exhausted I still felt. I awaken a little while later when the door opens and footsteps approach. I rub the sleepiness out of my eyes and when they adjust, my mother comes into focus. Her eyes fill with tears when she sees me, they are already bloodshot with dark circles underneath, probably from lack of sleep. She looks overworked and thinner than before, but I am comforted at the sight of her, a feeling I haven't felt in a long time. I reach out to her, and she rushes to my side, grabbing my cheeks and kissing my forehead. She brushes my hair off my face and runs her fingers through it, tears dripping down off her chin.
"I thought I lost both of you," She chokes out, "I though both my babies were gone."
I find myself shushing her, soothing her like a child, like I did when Prim had a nightmare. I comforted her while she cried, and when she was finished, I asked her the question I needed an answer to. "How is she? Can I see her?"
"They don't want Prim exposed to possible infections. She's not allowed visitors yet. I haven't been able to be at her side. She looks so small and fragile. I don't know if she'll be okay, Katniss." Her body shakes with sobs again. I want to be strong, but I don't have the strength. I let myself go, and we cry together.
After a while, I have no more tears left. I am numb. My little sister is barely alive because of a grotesque plan President Snow devised, but for what purpose? Why would he kill Capitol children? How could he have known rebel medics would respond to the bombs and try to save the children? How could he have known Prim would be among them, because I know she was a target in that second round of bombs, but how did they know she'd be there? None of it makes sense. I feel it will drive me mad if I don't figure out the truth about what happened that day. If anything, I am even more determined now to know President Snow's fate. I still want to be the one to take his life.
A few days later, I am released from the hospital. On my way out, I get my first glimpse of Prim. Her room is directly across the hallway from my old room, something I wish I had known before I was discharged because I could have snuck in to see her. At least then I would've had my first heartbreaking looks at her in privacy, and not in a hallway full of people watching me, waiting to see what their Mockingjay looks like now that she's been burned and broken. I don't care what they think of me. I don't care if they think the tears on my cheeks show weakness, or the burns on my arms make me imperfect, or the blank stare in my eyes are almost robotic. What I have laid eyes on will stay with me long after I fall asleep tonight. Even when I was told what Prim looked like, I never pictured her like this. Although her face is basically clear of scarring, most of her hair was burned off, and from the neck down her whole body appears to be one giant mass of charred flesh. It is too painful to look at, so I look away.
"I know she doesn't look good," A nearby nurse speaks up, "but we're trying. Her body is heavily sedated, but even so we can only work on one section of her body at a time, so it's going to take a while. She won't look like this forever. Time heals all wounds."
"If she doesn't die from infection, right?" I ask flat out, knowing she won't tell me bad news even if she has it.
"That's what our biggest concern is at the moment, yes." The woman has blonde hair, like Prim's, and light brown eyes which look honest. "I know you don't know me, Katniss, but I think your sister is going to be fine. I'm taking good care of her, that I promise you. She's made it almost two weeks, and every day that she is alive improves her chances that much more."
I have one more question before I leave, "When can we see her? She must be so lonely. I don't want her to wake up alone like I was. Please tell me when she's well enough to be taken off the sedative. I want to be there, and my mother too."
"I will," The nurse agrees. "And Katniss, you're welcome to come look through the glass, I know it's not the same as holding her hand, but the offer stands."
I take one last look at Prim's small body connected to all those machines, and then make myself walk away. It angers me to see her that way. I wish I weren't so weak or I'd be demanding Snow's life be put in my hands right this moment. He will pay for all he's ever done to me, my family, my district, and all the districts of Panem. The anger burns through my veins, even more determined now that I know Snow is locked up somewhere close by awaiting a decision on his fate. In my eyes, there is no discussion, he is a man who kills children for sport and he should die too.