Thanks for the review, anon. I've decided to write the next chapter but whether I continue it after that depends on how many reviews I get.

Gale's POV

I can't do it. If I rebel they'll kill her.

I had a plan. The perfect plan. But what would rebellion in District 12 mean for 12's tributes? I could not guarantee Katniss a slow and painful death. I just... couldn't. I'll wait until she dies or she wins. After that, with her life no longer hanging in the balance, I can do whatever I want, because I don't care if I die. It occured to me that perhaps they had rigged the reaping so that they'd have a hold over Katniss, just like they now had a hold over me; it would be just like them and it was unlikely that that one slip in thousands had just happened to be picked. Possible, I supposed, but...

I could think on rebellion later. I first needed to help Katniss win. We were too poor to be able to afford a district gift alone, but if all the district gathered the little they could spare it could be the difference between Katniss's life and death. Of course, there was no way to be sure it wouldn't be sent to Peeta instead; Haymitch could do whatever he wanted to with the money he got from sponsers. But he'd want to help the tribute with mote chances to win, and that was my Katniss. This is sick. I couldn't understand how they kept the Games going, how they convinced people to send money to help them with their entertainment, but now I do. They give us a little hope and make us hang on for dear life. And the thing is, it works. It works on me. I hated them. Oh God, I hated them...

"Gale? Are... are you okay? Wait... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked that: of course you're not okay. But... you said you'd think of something." I caught her casting a wary glance around the room, searching for cameras. Her face was streaked with tears - she'd cried some more that night, I knew. I had to keep it together, for her sake. But the truth was I wanted to burst into tears myself.
I pulled her close into a hug and let my lips brush past her ear.

"I did. Think of something that is. But I can't go through with it. Don't you see? If we try anything, they'll kill her." I expected her to burst into a fresh wave of tears. But instead her face filled with determination.

"They'll kill her anyways. Gale, I can't just sit here and... and... and take it! Next year maybe they'll pick you. Or Rory... have you thought of them picking your little brother? Or Madge."

"They wouldn't pick Madge. She's the Mayor's daughter."

"They might. They're ruthless and they're vile and they don't care.

"Hush, Prim! I said I'd protect you, and I can't let you go around saying things like that in anyone's hearing. I feel the same, Prim, but... tell me, if I told you the plan, would you go through with? Knowing your sister's life was on the line?"

"I... no." Her voice broke. She bit her lower lip and I could tell she was holding back tears. "But if they kill her..."

"I know," I whispered, "I know."

Prim's POV

I cried in Gale's arms until I could cry no more, and when I reached that point I felt as if a weight had been lifted off me. Then I saw the people milling out onto the streets and I felt like crying all over again. I remembered what day it was.

Today they would show the interviews. In another three days, the Games would begin.

In another three days, my sister could be dead.

We walked out and followed the flow. I caught sight of my mother and ran over to her. She stared up stony-faced at the television screen. Trying to be strong. For Katniss, I knew. Gale said nothing, just waited. Waited for the television to turn on and the Capitol seal to show up on it. Then came the District 1 girl. She was silly and flouncy and I couldn't believe she could giggle like that before the Games. A Career, I supposed, used to overlooking the horror of this.

The boy didn't giggle, but otherwise seemed equally silly and frivulous. I felt sorry for both of them. Three days from now, they would understand what they had volunteered for. Three days from now they would discover that they were just as much the Captiol's hounds as the rest of us.

The girl from two was deadly, lethal. I could imagine her twisting a knife into Katniss's back and I shivered violently. I felt pity for her too, though. It wasn't her fault she had been raised like this. The boy from two was pure muscle, but not much else. I knew Katniss could outsmart him if she tried. And she would. She had promised me.

This is what they make us do. Hope other teenagers will die so those we care about can live.

The girl from five was sly and sneaky. I felt she was perhaps more of a threat to Katniss than the boy from two, even.

The girl from eight was unremarkable. She would be one of the first to go down, probably. She's done nothing to deserve this. None of them have. I wanted Katniss to win, but I didn't want any of them to die either. Another tear. I had to stop crying. Katniss wouldn't cry. She'd grit her teeth and swear to overthrow the Capitol. I wished I was as strong as her.

The boy from eleven was a killing machine as well, but more deadly than the one from two.

And the girl from eleven...

She was my age and looked so small, so... breakable... I could not imagine anyone just sitting there and watching her die. I couldn't. She couldn't be older than twelve. God, I hated them. She was my age, and she should not be in this. None of them should.

Then came Katniss, and I didn't care what came out of her mouth as long as the crowd was cheering for her. She'll have sponsors. They love her.

"What did your sister say when you volunteered for her?"

No. I don't think I can bear listening to this.

"She asked me to try really, really hard to win for her."

KATNISS!

"And what did you say?"

"I told her I would."

I was broken. I could not stay there anothe minute, could not breathe, could not... someone called my name... no... I was shattered.

"Katniss," I whispered, "Katniss."

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