***I have already posted this chapter, I know, but I fixed/added a few things i couldn't add right away because of not being able to log-in***

Hello everyone! Sorry it took so long to update! I had to catch up on some homework, then I went home for the weekend and accidentally left Mockingjay in my apartment. Thanks to all who have read/favorited/reviewed and added this story to their story alerts! It's gotten so many hits! :)

So anyways here's chapter 3!

This chapter and the next will continue to be Peeta's flashback.

My eyes are still trying to focus as they move around the cabin. Blurry figures are darting around the small room, speaking quickly, muttering instructions to the two men standing on either side of me, both of whom seem to be ignoring them. A woman with a high pitched, squeaky voice chimes in loudly all of a sudden, causing them to jerk slightly before resuming their annoyed attitudes.

"When we drop you off at destination 1a, you are to get the boy to destination 1b as soon as possible. The president wants the boy to get to squad 451 without being seen,"

The man to my right nods grudgingly and the woman continues, "He will not be restrained. If he resists, or starts to show signs of an 'attack' you are to inject him with this," she hands the man to my left a syringe filled with a clear blue liquid, "otherwise the only restraints that are to be used are your own hands. The president was adamant about this particular detail. Squad 451 must see that he has not been restrained."

"Yes, rebel Sargent Lennox" The man on the right sneers.

Why does he sound so..disgusted?

I study the men.

Their familiarity troubles me. Why do I feel like I should know who or what these men are?

The first thing I notice is their size. They have to be over 6 feet tall at the least, and the one to my left looks like he could be over 300 pounds.

The second thing I notice is their uniform.

White.

Peacekeeper white.

Peacekeepers.

My heartbeat quickens as I struggle to remember the events that occurred prior to my passing out. I had almost remembered something. No, I had remembered something. It may not have been an entire memory, but it was enough. I am sure now that when I was on the arena beach during the Quell, I had been in love with Katniss Everdeen. I was so in love that I was going to die so that she could have a future with someone else.

I remember during the first few weeks of treatment, the doctors in thirteen showed me that exact scene, along with many other scenes of Katniss and I sharing intimate moments. But then, it was like I was watching strangers act out scenes from a movie. Now, I can actually remember.

I not only remember the words we exchanged, the actions we made.

I remember the feelings. How the salty wind felt on my face, how the grittiness of the sand felt beneath my toes. How the locket felt slippery between my fingers due to both my nervousness and the humidity.

I remember the emotions. The desperation and longing displayed openly on her face when I gave her the locket.

I remember the pain. The pain in my heart.

The pain in her eyes when I told her no one needed me. She looked so sad, then, so determined.

My heartbeat quickens as images start to flash across my eyes, so I squeeze them shut, letting the rest of the memory come to me.

She looks deep into my eyes. The pain that is pooling in them is causing my chest to fill with anguish. I can't hold her gaze.

"I do", she says quietly, inching closer. She clamps her hands around my head, forcing me to look straight into her beautiful grey eyes.

"I need you" she says louder now, her voice cracking with emotion. Determined.

My heart soars, and then shatters like a firework. I have no right to hope. She is only saying that to make me feel better. She doesn't mean it. There is no way that she would choose my life over Prim's. Her mother's. Gale's.

Gale.

I begin voice all of these thoughts when she pulls my face to hers and her lips crash onto mine. I start to lose my nerve immediately, and eventually give in to the overwhelming sense of want that overcomes me. I don't care if she is pretending. I don't care if she doesn't mean it. I don't care that I am going to die so that she can be with another man.

I am going to die.

And therefore I am going to kiss her. I am going to pretend that there are no cameras. I am going to pretend that she wants this too. I am going to pretend that she is mine, because I am hers.

Forever.

We jolt apart at the sudden crack of the lightning hitting the tree at midnight. Finnick wakes up and I lead Katniss to the others so that she can sleep while Finnick goes on watch duty. I place the locket around her neck, and remember the baby. The baby that I wish more than anything in the world was real. She would be able to have a piece of me with her forever. I place my shaking hands on her stomach, imagining the baby that I hope one day she would have, that I hope one day she would love.

"You're going to make a great mother, you know"

I kiss her, and make my way over to Finnick, hoping she didn't notice the tears threatening to spill over onto my flushed cheeks.

I take a deep breath and sit down next to Finnick, a familiar wave of determination filling me up. The same determination I felt when I was reaped. The same determination I felt when we were in the arena standing on metal plates waiting to fight. The same determination I felt when Snow announced the Quarter Quell.

It is the same determination that I have felt ever since I risked a beating to give her bread.

I watch as little waves lap up the shore, then disappear back into sea, leaving a shimmering impression of where it had washed over the grainy sand. A signature.

The images start to blur and sink into blackness. A string of thoughts pass through my mind before the memory goes black.

I am not going to let her die.

I am going to protect her.

And there is nothing she or anyone else can do about it.

I am panting when I open my eyes. My heart is pounding furiously against my chest and my entire body is trembling.

I feel it now. Pain, sadness, determination.

Something that may be love.

But I also feel deep, deep hatred. Hatred of myself for becoming such a monster. Hatred of the Capitol for making me this monster. Hatred of Katniss for just giving up on me instead of trying to make me better.

A new, stronger wave of anguish and hatred consumes me.

Katniss.

Katniss.

Katniss.

I fight back the barrage of shiny memories that begin to surface.

Katniss, decked out in a tightly fitting peacekeeper uniform, brandishes a sword. She is going to cut me.

Katniss, her eyes blood read and menacing, screaming that she wants me to die so that she can be with Gale without feeling guilty.

Katniss, her fangs bared, ripping the locket off of her neck and strangling me with it.

Katniss, telling me over and over that she does not and will never love or care about me as she stabs me repeatedly in the chest with a knife.

I start to struggle and scream violently, the thick leather cuffs binding me to the wall of the hovercraft start to cut into my wrists and I cry out. The pain brings me back, sharpening my focus. I am panting heavily as my eyes dart around the room, but I do not see shiny Katniss anywhere. I silently curse myself. Can I not have just one memory that isn't followed by shiny ones? Everyone in the cabin is staring at me.

The peacekeepers beside me are looking down at me with curiosity.

They are grinning.

Hatred and disgust bubble up inside if me again, but this time it is directed at them. I stare ahead of me, refusing to meet their gaze.

I look over to the small, circular window on the wall opposite me. It is rimmed with dirt and grime, but I am still able to see through it. This hovercraft must have been out of use for some time. And judging by the interior, this is most definitely an old capitol hovercraft.

In thirteen, part of training included attending classes on the history of thirteen. One class focused mainly on the different models of hovercrafts used by both the capitol and thirteen over the past 75 years. It was an extremely boring class that I assumed was pointless and would never in any way be relevant to me in combat or in any situation for that matter. Apparently I was wrong.

However I was right about how knowing how to recognize different hovercraft models would not help me in any way, because I am still trapped in this situation with no ideas on how to get out of it.

I watch through the window as the hovercraft stops above a spacious, very empty capitol city square. The colorful, oddly shaped shops, tall apartment buildings, and futuristic homes all seem to have been abandoned by their inhabitants long before the rebels first infiltrated the capitol. Doors lay open, some hanging off their hinges. Brightly colored fliers, feathers, and stray garbage roll in clumps through the barren streets like the tumbleweed that blow through the ruins of thirteen. Layers of dust coat the shop windows, the multicolored mannequins that have been stripped of their clothes barely visible.

The larger peacekeeper begins to undo the leather straps as the other opens the hovercraft doors and lowers the ladder. They each grab one of my arms and force me down onto the ladder, into the square, to a nearby train station, and onto a capitol train.

They sit on either side of me the entire time, as if I can escape. As if there is any place for me to run besides somewhere else on this train, which, by the way, is only one car long and traveling extremely fast. I don't have to feel anxious for long though. The train ride is very short, maybe fifteen minutes. I'm assuming we only traveled along the outskirts of the capitol from one side to another, but I'm not entirely sure. They shut the curtains when we entered our compartment and wouldn't let me open them during the entire ride.

As we prepare to exit the train, one of the peacekeepers reaches under one of the seats, pulls out a gun, and shoves it into my arms. As they push me out of the train and onto the platoform, the large one finally speaks. His voice is deep, but I can still make out a faint capitol accent.

"Your squad will be waiting for you outside of the station." He gives a mischievous grin to his partner and mutters something else to me under his breath as I make my way towards the doors to the station. As I open the doors and swing the gun strap over my shoulder, his words register in my brain.

"Give my regards to President Snow, Mellark"

I don't have time to react, however, because the small crowd awaiting my arrival is in an uproar. They rush around me, taking my gun and checking the number on my hand.

I lock eyes with a very real and very angry Katniss Everdeen.

And this Katniss is not shiny.

Real or not real?

Sorry that this is a little short, and may be considered a filler, but I am still not entirely sure which point Peeta and Katniss should be captured. I'm thinking right before they make it to Tigris's or right after they leave, but I'm not sure. Give me some suggestions!

And as always, review review!