Hey guys, quick authors note! Sorry for the delay again with uploading, I've been working so much these past few weeks. After this week it should die down so I should be getting chapters out a bit quicker for you.
Good news is I now have an amazing Beta reader! ct522 - who has been a star with getting the chapter read and edited for me. She had also written a Hunger Games fanfic which I am currently reading and I would definitely recommend, she's a brilliant writer!
And a big thank-you for my reviews from Kitkatlogan, VMars lover, BeMyStar, and a guest visitor. Your reviews really mean the world, and are always welcome. I love to hear feedback!
Quick disclaimed - I do not own any of the characters etc, they are property of Suzanne Collins
Thanks enough from me, happy reading!
The next couple of weeks went by in a painful blur; every moment was spent in a hazy blur of a drowsy sleep-deprived state. I couldn't sleep through the night without nightmares but couldn't stay awake long enough to engage with the world outside of my dreams. Often when I opened my eyes I'd see Prim, Gale, or my mother. Once I'd even seen Haymitch standing in the doorway, but I couldn't bring myself out of my grief-filled coma. Just thinking of Peeta made a sickly bile rise in my throat which I had to harshly cough back whilst tears pricked behind my eyes. After everything how could we have lost him? How could I have let him out my sight during the games? I'd lost my boy with the bread, and I knew his love for me had probably been the end of him. It wasn't until I opened my eyes in the early hours one day to find our cabin filled with people that I started to break away from the fog clouding over my mind.
"Katniss, there's people here to see you," Prim's soft voice cooed to me as she clasped my hand with one of hers and used her other to support my back as I sat up. "They said it's important," she sighed, looking over at everyone else in the room before starting to move away from me, but I kept a tight grasp on her hand, pulling her to me. I had a feeling I'd need her support. As my mind cleared and my vision focused I could make out who was in the room; in front of me stood President Coin and Plutarch, with Haymitch hanging behind them. Out of the corner of my eye I see Gale standing next to my mother, giving me a small sympathetic smile.
"Get it over with then," Gale snaps, looking sharply at Coin, "if you really think now's the right time to ask things of her…" he trailed off, obviously remembering his place before sinking down into a chair in the corner of the room. Plutarch coughs roughly before taking a few hesitant steps towards me.
"Katniss, we know recent events have been very taxing on you, but the war efforts lately have faltered. We need our Mockingjay." I stare at Plutarch menacingly; I never wanted to hear that phrase again. Being the Mockingjay had brought me nothing but loss so far.
"It's important we keep morale up among the troops." Coin adds, crossing her arms over her chest. "You're absence has been noted, and with Peeta still classed as missing, people are losing faith in what they're fighting for."
I stare blankly at her, trying to push past the agonising pain in my chest. Peeta wasn't missing, he was dead. But she knew confirming that to me wasn't going to have me in the mind-set to do what she wanted. Prim's hand clasped mine tightly and she gave me a worried look, I looked over at her for a moment before looking back at Coin and the others, noticing how sheepish Haymitch looked behind them.
"What will I get out of it, I've already lost Peeta, and my best friend is out fighting for a war that I started without even meaning to. I can't do this anymore! I can't keep losing everyone I care about!" I was shouting by the end of it, tears spilling out of my eyes. Plutarch backed off but Coin stared me down, not about to give up. Gale rushed over to my side, kneeling by my feet and wiping the tears from my face.
"Do it for Peeta, Katniss." Haymitch's voice was gruff and barely audible. I looked up at him in disbelief, could he really be using that against me? "You know he'd have fought for this war Katniss, and he'd have wanted you to stay strong, so that what's happened to him won't have been be in vain." And with that he turned and left the room. His words stung, not because he'd hurt me but because I knew he was right. Peeta would want me to fight, he didn't risk his life so I could throw away the power I now had in the war.
Coin seemed to notice my change in demeanour and uncrossed her arms, relaxing a little. "We need to start work today; you'll need to be in compartment 2308 by ten o clock." She spun on her heels and stalked out the cabin before I had an opportunity to say anything else, and Plutarch followed quickly behind her.
"Well this should be fun," I muttered, earning a small chuckle from Gale.
"You don't have to do this Catnip," Gale mutters as we walk through Thirteen towards compartment 2308, our footsteps falling heavily on the ground and it's almost like everyone in the district has been called to do something, it's that deserted. "I know you haven't been feeling well…"
"I need to do my bit Gale," I cut him off, not ready to talk to him about the emotional wall I've hit after not finding Peeta. That was a conversation which could never end well between us. "You're out there fighting; I may not be stable enough to do that, so whatever they need me for in here – I'll do it." Gale smiles lightly before taking my hand and we continue the rest of the journey in an anxious silence. Eventually we find compartment 2308, along a darkened corridor with all metal doors and several security officers which allowed me and Gale through on sight, I guess everyone knows who the Girl on Fire is. Gale shunts open the huge door with a small grunt, greeted on the other side by Coin, Plutarch, Haymitch, and a couple of people I haven't met before.
"Good to see you're here Katniss." Coin nods sternly in my direction before taking a seat at the opposite end of the room, almost like her work here is done.
"Yes it is Katniss!" Plutarch beams, offering a much more hospitable approach, "I'm so glad you're on-board. This wouldn't all be possible without you – of course." He motions to the people standing behind him, "This is Cressida and Messalla, Cressida is going to be your director…" it's only then that I notice the bulky camera set up in the corner of the room.
"What exactly are we doing here?" I ask coldly, I couldn't say I was very fond of cameras, they were all too related to my time in the Games.
"Ah right of course, introductions should wait," Plutarch carried on his upbeat tone, obviously trying not to scare me off. "We wanted to start with shooting some propos for the rebellion – you know, keep spirits up, remind them what they're fighting for. We know the Capitol were planning on using the victors to try to sway people to their cause, we don't think they managed to shoot any, but we know they've done some in the past so it'll be good to step on their toes with the idea."
A long silence ensued as I processed what Plutarch was suggesting, I know I'd said I would do anything to help, but this wasn't what I was expecting. Really I should've known, my face was one of the most recognised in the whole on Panem. Having that on your side during this war was one of the most powerful tools you could behold.
"What will I have to talk about?" I ask nervously, noticing how Plutarch's eyes lit up even further, I even saw a small smile creep onto President Coin's face.
"Well we were going to start with general propos about what the rebels are fighting for, we wanted to get some footage of the war first hand with our troops, which you could narrate over. We also wanted to try some interview style segments with you and maybe even getting some footage of you in the field"
Coin stood up harshly, giving Plutarch a warning glare, "well that's a long way off yet, don't get her all excited. If we sent her out there in this state she'd be dead in a minute. Then what do we have?" Some expression I couldn't detect crossed over her face for a moment before she returned to frowning. "Just get her ready for her first propo; we need to get a move on. And Gale," for the first time someone in the room acknowledged Gale who had returned to clutching my hand. "Come with me, there's a meeting in Special Defence." Gale looks confused for a moment before nodding quickly.
"You'll be alright by yourself?" He asks, even though we both know I have no choice. I just nod lightly and they're both out of the room in a flash.
"I know this is all very sudden," Plutarch regains my attention, giving me a slightly sympathetic smile. "But I know some people who will cheer you up."
I turn round when I hear shuffling in the doorway; there stands Flavius, Octavia and Venia, my beautifully eccentric prep team. "What are you doing here?" I cried, a smile breaking over my face and I rush to them, tears streaking down their faces as they embrace me.
"Do you really think Cinna would have wanted any other prep team styling this rebellion?" Fulvia smiles down at me. It's only then that I take them in properly. They look nothing like they had in the Capitol, none of the bright colours, dyes, and jewellery. Just three, slightly less than normal, people now stood before me. They were also noticeably calmer than they used to be – obviously this war had tainted even the most naïve of us.
It took a good few hours for me to be remade to 'Beauty Base Zero' as Venia had called it; seems even the rebels didn't want to see a Mockingjay who was in emotional pieces. Once I'm deemed presentable I'm helped into my Mockingjay costume and given a bandage to cover the gruesome scar on my arm which I'd gained from Johanna digging out my tracker during the last Hunger Games. All three of them try to keep reassuring me that I look beautiful, but I know the truth, my face is drawn with bags under my eyes, I'd never quite managed to put the weight back on I'd lost during the games, and most noticeably my eyes were dead. Plutarch was going to have his work cut out for him trying to make me look approachable on camera.
I'm led to the set alongside Venia who will make any last minute adjustments. Once we arrive Plutarch greats us with a huge smile.
"Well, Katniss, you look great!" He beams, obviously meaning it to be a compliment but I just glare at him a little. He might as well have said I looked a wreck before. As he begins a monologue about what's going to happen today and what we're aiming for, my mind wanders and I begin to gaze round the room. I notice Finnick wandering round the set, and he gives me a thumbs up when he catches me eye. He looks in much better spirits; I'd guess he'd been to see Annie a number of times since she'd been back. The thought made my stomach churn uneasily, all these times Finnick had seen Annie should've been the times I'd been to see Peeta. But he'd never made it back…
I coughed harshly trying to cover the sob forming in my throat and focused my mind on the task at hand. If I was going to avenge Peeta in anyway, this rebellion needed to win.
"Katniss, I thought we could start with something easy today – I just want to get a general shot of you rallying the rebels, something to keep their hopes up, and I thought we could do some narration over some of the footage we've shot." Plutarch motioned for me to follow him to the far side of the room. I did this without question – leaving Venia to consult with the camera crew on my best angles and arrange the lighting. Along the far wall was a small electronic set up with a computer display and some camera reels lying alongside it. Obviously some of the edits of the filming was done here. "We've got some footage we shot in the Capitol during the recent visit to rescue the victors – there's some great shots of the cells they were kept in and we even got some action shots of our troops against their guards." Plutarch continued in his upbeat tone but I felt sick to the stomach. I was going to see the conditions that people had been kept in because they'd helped save me from the games. I could even see what conditions Peeta may have been kept in, that's if they hadn't killed him as soon as they had the chance. I didn't have time to process this thought as Plutarch inserted a disc into the computer and the display filled with images of dark, dank cells. I could almost feel how cold and neglected they were just by looking at them on a screen.
"They're awful," I whispered, more to myself, each cell seemed smaller than the last, with small beds in the corners covered in sheets that may have been once white but were covered in stains ranging from dirt to blood. I covered my mouth with my hand to stop the gasp from leaving me; I had to stay strong now. I tried to ignore the shackles on the wall and the awful images that filled my head of what they could have been doing to my friends. As the imaged changed to footage of a fight going on between some of the Capitol guards and our own men I found I couldn't look anymore, couldn't bear to see the destruction this war was actually causing. I needed to focus on the end goal. As my eyes drifted from the screen I noticed another disc on the counter, on the front of it in very small writing was one word. Peeta.
"What's this?" I asked angrily, grasping the disc before Plutarch had chance to find any excuses. Whatever this was I needed to watch it, even if it only had a glimpse of Peeta's face it'd be worth it. Just to see him one last time. I pushed past Plutarch as he roughly tried to grab me and ejected the disc that was playing before ramming in the new disc. Plutarch tried to jump in front of me, but suddenly it was like he couldn't move. I looked past him and saw Finnick clasping the back of his shirt.
"Play it Katniss!" He cried - I didn't need telling twice. I clicked the play button on the screen and watched as the image unfolded in front of my eyes.
There was Peeta, he was skinnier, his face paler and his hair wasn't its usual glowing blonde. But it was him. I breathed out slowly, feeling the tears prick in my eyes and my heart ached for him. He was sitting down in a chair on a stage, it was only then that I took in the rest of the screen. There next to Peeta sits Caesar Flickerman, I frowned at the screen trying to understand what was going on – this wasn't an interview from the games, I could remember every outfit Peeta had worn for each interview and he'd looked nothing like this. Before I could decipher what they were saying the video cut to another scene, almost identical to the first but this time both Peeta and Caesar were wearing different outfits. How many of these interviews were there?
"What the hell is this?" I cried, snapping round to face Plutarch, I could feel the venom in my glare. "When were these? Why have I not been shown them?" Plutarch began mumbling out incoherent sentences before Finnick gave him a stern shove in the back.
"We didn't want any citizens to become distressed," he sighed, almost remorsefully. But that wasn't going to quell my anger.
"Distressed about what?" Hot tears were spilling down my face now, I'd been denied these last images of Peeta, the proof that the Capitol had kept him alive. That if we'd have been quicker we could've brought him back to us. I turned back to the screen and my question was soon answered for me, Peeta had begun screaming at the camera man before he was knocked in the side of the head, the camera following him to the floor before it was splattered in Peeta's blood. More scenes followed of Peeta in a cell, taking beatings from various guards.
"No!" I screamed, lurching for the screen, wishing I was there to catch Peeta as he fell, to stop them from ever touching him again. "How could you let this happen?" I spun round, glaring at everyone in the room in turn. "You all let him die!" I was running from the room then, hot bile building up in my throat before I collapsed in the corridor, throwing up everything I could've possibly eaten in the last week. The sickening images of Peeta's bloody battered body burned into my memory, never to be forgotten.
"Katniss, breathe!" I looked up to see Finnick crouching above me, pulling my hair from my face. "I'm so sorry Katniss; I can't believe that was kept from you." He rubbed my back soothingly, but it did little to lessen the pain.
"He must've gone through so much!" I gasped, realising now I was sobbing uncontrollably, "We could've saved him!" I was screaming but I didn't care, all those who were guilty deserved to hear this.
"I think you should see Johanna," Finnick spoke up suddenly; I gave him a questioning glance, not understanding what she had to do with anything. "She had the cell next to Peeta's; she could answer some of your questions. She's been insisting to see you but no one will let her, I don't know why, but she keeps saying you need to know the truth about Peeta."
It took a few moments to take in what Finnick was saying, Johanna knew what had happened to Peeta, and she knew who was to blame. I was going to make sure I found out every detail and made sure anyone involved was going to pay. "I need to see her now Finnick," I demanded, he quickly nodded, pulling me up onto my feet and wordlessly led me down the hall. It was time for answers.