AN: Short chapter after the previous one was so long. Thanks Solaryllis for reminding me that in book a hovercraft picks up the D12 refugees and for pointing out that for some reason I spelled Posy's name "Posey". I'm still keeping the hike in place for the purpose of my story and I may be stretching out the war to last longer too . . . but I definitely appreciate the fact-checking help and I'm glad to know I'm not crazy! Also you guys, I'm on tumblr now like a silly fangirl. :) My blog name on there is ShilohPR.

Chapter Four: Upgrades and Downgrades

The first afternoon and evening were so chaotic. So many hundreds of people were trying to quickly adapt to a new lifestyle, one so entirely opposite what we had been used to before, that there was bound to be confusion. Ali and I followed one crowd after another, first to the dining hall to eat far less than our stomachs craved, then back to our room, then to the infirmary where they weighed us and performed some crazy healing on my hand using a noisy machine, then back to our rooms. By the next morning, my hand was feeling better than it had since it had been stepped on, and I could even use my fingers again, though they were a bit stiff.

In the morning Ali and I placed our arms in the schedule tattoo-er as directed. I expected pain but it just felt like a giant, felted tongue licking me from wrist to elbow -odd, to say the least, but not particularly unpleasant. We ate breakfast while studying a map, then I managed to guide us to Ali's class with minimal difficulty.

Ali's teacher was named Miss Ainsley; she was young, bright-eyed, and clearly excited at the sudden influx of children. She bustled from parent to parent, shaking hands and patting heads. I could out-bubble her on a good day, but compared to everyone else we'd met in District 13, so was positively glowing.

When she reached Ali and me, I introduced, "This is my brother, Ali Cartwright." As she checked his name off a list, I leaned in and added in a low voice, "He's still pretty upset after all that happened, and he's not really talking yet. I'm a bit nervous about leaving him-"

"Oh, don't worry about it at all," she assured me, patting my arm and reaching out for Ali's hand. "We fully understand that the children have been through a lot and are absolutely going to provide the support that's needed for them to calm down and settle in." Her confidence did little to appease my anxiety at leaving my brother, but Ali had spotted Posy across the room and was already joining her. I felt a slight pang that he left my side so easily, but was generally glad the departure wouldn't be a big scene. Still, it was hard to tear myself away from his classroom, and I felt a weight in my stomach as soon as he was out of sight that didn't go away until I was back with him later.

I'd expected my "agricultural" work to be backbreaking, and it was physical, but I enjoyed the work. I spent the morning pushing a cart down perfectly turned rows of soil to embed seeds, and the afternoon weeding tomato beds. The fields were all indoors, which was pretty mind-blowing, and climate-controlled, so that District 13 could completely dictate the growing seasons. Only in District 13 could strawberries and corn grow at the same time of year only a room apart.

I nicked a strawberry -which we'd been warned up and down is against the rules, but I managed to not get caught- but they didn't taste quite the way strawberries are supposed to. I guess you can't have everything, but it seems to me that it'd be better to only have strawberries for one part of the year and have them be really good than to get them year round but have them taste . . . fake.

I still had an hour or so of work left before I was to go to something called "Command" when one of the heads of the field I was working in told me I was wanted in the infirmary.

Of course I assumed it was something to do with Ali and sprinted through the hallways, getting lost multiple times and having to frantically ask directions of anyone I happened to pass.

When at least I reached the infirmary, I was passed along several nurses until finally one told me, "Rye Mellark asked for you." My relief nearly brought me to my knees. "Normally we don't call workers away from their tasks," the nurse continued, motioning for me to follow. "But there's been some distressing news and . . . well, I thought we could make an exception this once."

"What do you mean, distressing news?" I pressed, slowing, my relief quickly evaporating. Was Rye dying? The thought that we'd dragged him all this way only for him to die made my legs wobbly and my stomach churn. He'd been injured, sure, but I hadn't thought any moreso than anyone else! In fact, the further we'd gotten from District 12, the more his spirits had lifted and the better he'd seemed to feel. Had something caused a drastic turnaround?

The nurse merely motioned again for me to follow and led the way to a small room, one among many, with glass windows that showed only a curtain from the hall.

"Delly Cartwright is here," the nurse announced, waiting a second before sliding the curtain to the side. Rye sat in the bed, his leg propped up and completely wrapped in a hard plastic cast. Pann sat in a chair beside him. They weren't touching, but they both stared blankly at the same spot on the far wall, which gave them the appearance of connectedness.

The nurse pulled the curtain closed behind me and was gone in an instant, before they'd even acknowledged my presence.

"Hey guys," I ventured, stepping forward slowly and crossing my arms. Rye didn't look like he was dying . . . If that wasn't the case I couldn't imagine why they would . . .

The thought died in my mind before it had even finished. I pushed it away and tried to smile. I'd known this day was coming, hadn't I? But no, I hadn't, because I'd spent the past year and a half genuinely believing everything would be alright. It had to be alright.

"Katniss is here," Rye finally explained, avoiding my eyes. That could mean anything, right?

"It's just, we know you were close to Peeta before the Games and . . ." Pann continued when Rye didn't. It felt like someone had kicked me in the stomach and knocked the wind from my lungs. It was easier to keep the smile plastered on my face than to actually react to what it sounded like they were saying.

"So he's . . ."

"The Tributes blew up the arena, like Gale told us," Pann said. "This whole time, there's been a rebellion in the works. The Gameskeeper, Plutarch Heavensbee, was involved; so was Haymitch Abernathy. Blowing up the arena was part of a big conspiracy. When shit went down, they were ready and-"

"Who blew up the arena?"

"Katniss," Rye answered.

Pann continued,"They got Katniss out, and two other Tributes. The Capitol got Peeta."

Again the breath rushed from my chest, but this time in relief. My forced smile relaxed and I shook my head, "Geez, guys. The way you're acting, I thought you were going to tell me he's dead!"

Pann and Rye shared a confused look before repeating, "We have every reason to believe he's dead. The Capitol has-"

"The Capitol has had him for over a year now," I reminded. "Don't you think if they'd wanted him dead, they would have made sure he died in the Games last year? Or been killed off early in these Games? Or had an 'accident' at some point in between?" Talking about Peeta for this long was making me uncomfortable, but it was easier to discuss him in the framework of reassuring Pann and Rye. My relief temporarily outweighed every other emotion.

"But why would they bother keeping him alive? What good is he alive?" Rye pressed.

"Well he's certainly no good to them dead, now is he," I retorted. "Look, I'm not going to try and convince you that your brother is alive. If you'd rather believe he's dead, then that's your own business. But I just don't think it makes much sense for them to not keep him alive. I tend to be right about these things, you know. He's probably just locked up in a cell. I bet they're even taking good care of him while they try to figure out the best thing to do with him. They'll probably want to trade him for . . . I don't know, weapons or something."

Pann's shoulders relaxed just the slightest bit as he considered this, but Rye was unconvinced.

He stared at his hands for a moment, then turned on me with a surprising fury, "Look, could you cut the sunshine shit for a moment? We didn't call you in here to try and drag us down into your deluded little world of peace and love." Pann stood to interrupt him but Rye held his hand up and continued, glaring at me but softening his voice, "I asked for you because I know you love my brother and I wanted you to hear this from us first."

His anger didn't bother me. It wasn't the first time my optimism had rubbed someone the wrong way. But his conclusion as to the nature of my feelings for his brother made me flustered and his use of the word love, present tense, made my stomach twinge. My smile may have faltered for a moment, but I quickly plastered it back on and insisted, "I appreciate your concern, as misguided as it is, but I'm not being deluded. I will continue to believe in him-"

"Believe in him? This isn't about believing in him, Delly. You'd better hope he's dead." I'd managed to kick off his anger again, and he leaned forward to explain to me as though I were some idiot child, "Peeta was part of a conspiracy. They aren't going to hold his hand and feed him cookies until he feels like talking. They're going to make him talk. It's not that we don't believe he's dead, we hope he's dead. The stronger he is, the worse it's going to be for him. If we're lucky, he's already dead."

This was not something that had ever entered my mind -or perhaps it had and I'd simply sent the idea packing before it had taken root. Peeta always told me I had the biggest imagination of anyone he'd ever met. At times like these, it was the best and worst trait. Already my brain was giving flesh and blood to Rye's suggestion. But, just as quickly, I pushed those thoughts down, blinked them back with the threatening tears, and pressed my lips into my typical smile, as fake as I knew it looked.

"I suppose I'm simply more selfish than you are," I finally said, letting my hands fall to my sides and shrugging. "But nothing could ever make me hope for Peeta's death. Ever."

"No matter how badly they-"

"Katniss will piece him back together," I assured them. "That's enough for me." I paused at the door, already dreading what I was going to say but knowing it was for the best. "I appreciate you thinking of me, but now that Katniss is here, I don't belong as part of this family anymore. I wouldn't want to overstep my boundaries. I wish you a speedy recovery, Rye."

Gale was just outside the door. I don't know what, if anything, he heard. If he tried to say anything, I missed it as I hurried from the infirmary. It wasn't so much that I wanted to put distance between myself and the Mellarks -actually quite the opposite- but the idea of running into Katniss made me nervous, and she was no doubt close by. I'd grown up with her, but that was before she become this hero of the rebellion. I knew I'd look like a total idiot if I tried to say anything to her. What do you even say to someone who's been through all that she'd been through? I didn't want to say something stupid or, worse, just stare like an idiot.

I also didn't know if I could stand to see her safely here while Peeta, blindly loyal and painfully doting Peeta, was being rolled along the knuckles of the Capitol.
Instead of going back to work, since my shift was almost over anyway, I went to Ali's school early. I guess people never departed from their schedules because Miss Ainsley looked startled to see me, but she invited me in and let me join the kids. They were sitting in a circle on the carpet, reciting times tables. We hadn't learned those until third year, and here they were in first year learning them. Ali crawled into my lap and Posy leaned against me on one side and some child I didn't even know wanted to hold my hand.

"The children really like you," Miss Ainsley commented an hour later, when parents or guardians had gathered their children and it was only the three of us left in the classroom. I had Command in only a few minutes, but Ali and I lingered to help Miss Ainsley clean the room.

"I've always been comfortable with kids," I shrugged. I hastily remembered not to mention the fact that, at seventeen, I sort of was still a kid. In the system, I was twenty, I needed to remember.

She patted Ali on the head again and walked us to the door, suggesting as she went, "Would you be at all interested in helping in here?"

"They put me in agriculture-"

"I'm sure they did. We're very . . . protective of children here." She glanced around the room as she said it and then dropped her voice. "We're not supposed to talk about it but there was a disease. No one knows what caused it, though I know a lot of people blame the Capitol. Biological warfare or whatnot. It killed off so many of us and left a lot of women barren, or left them affected so that they gave birth to barren daughters in turn. Not everyone, mind you, but . . . most of us." It was obvious she was one of the barren, judging by the way she looked down at her fingers.

"I'm sorry."

"Well, that's why you'll see children are sort of revered here. Not just anyone gets to work with them. If you'd like, though, I bet I could make a case to have you work here with me. I don't imagine agriculture is much fun."

"It's not bad," I assured her. The truth was, though, that I would much rather work in here with Ali. It was a much happier place. I actually felt somewhat at home here in the classroom. "But I would love to be able to help out in here, if you could use me."

"I'll see what I can do," she winked, patting my arm. "I'll see you tomorrow, Ali!" He waved at her as we left to find our Command meeting.

I'm not sure how difficult it was or what strings had needed to be pulled to get a refugee into a childcare position, but by the end of Command I was informed that I would now be reporting to Ainsley instead of agriculture.

In two weeks I'd gone from cobbler's daughter to nomad to farm laborer to "First Year Teacher's Assistant." Ali wasn't talking, but he beamed at the news that I'd be with him every day, and even giggled when we sat next to one of his classmates in the dining hall at dinner and they made walrus teeth with their fake green beans. My hand was feeling almost completely back to normal except for an occasional locking in my ring and pinky fingers.

Not to mention Peeta was alive. Not safe yet, but alive.

Finally we were settled. After two weeks of chaos and confusion and an uncertainty about the future that I'd had to really work to grin and bear, life was beginning to fall in place, albeit completely different from the life we'd known. Still. The tears of the night before seemed years behind me. For the first time in weeks, I almost slept through the night.

Not safe yet, but alive.