"We can write them letters," Peeta says quietly.

I am so angry that I can't even respond to him. I feel cheated, and when the realization that I may never see Gale and Prim again settles in, I want to vomit. I swallow back a lump of tears and step through the automatic train car doors. We are already moving by the time I sit; they're wasting no time in herding us to the Capitol for slaughter. What would I say in a letter? How could I possibly fit my last words on a few sheets of paper? They would be censored anyway, probably replaced with generic letters typed up by a stranger. In Snow's world, I am madly in love with Peeta. In his world, I haven't heard so much as a whisper of rebellion.

I don't want my last words to my family to be ruined. All I have to hold onto is the image of Prim reaching for me, trying to get to me, and Gale holding her when the peacekeepers refused.

"Oh, Katniss," Effie sighs. I keep staring out the window as she sits beside me, fussing over me and patting my hand awkwardly. "I am so, so dreadfully sorry."

"There's nothing you could have done," I murmur. I tuck my legs underneath myself and rest my chin on the edge of the sofa, trying to focus on the window as the outside world zooms past. "It's not your fault."

She sighs. "Oh, I know. I just can't help but feel responsible…I shouldn't have pulled your dear sister's name. We wouldn't be in this mess if I had chosen someone else." She strokes my hair and I'm too dejected to fight it. I feel my eyes slowly close, like Buttercup's do when he's curled up beside Prim.

"Effie," I mumble, fighting to keep my eyes open. "You didn't have a choice. None of us did."


Sometime later, after the sun has set, we are seated around the mahogany table in the dining car. Effie wants us all to have something gold to signify we are a team. I hold my mockingjay pin between my thumb and forefinger, feeling its grooves and curves. Gale believes I stand for something and I am starting to understand what he means. My pin, my salute, my refusal to follow the Capitol's rules - it's been me all along. I will do better with my team alongside me. Grateful, I squeeze the pin and give Effie a smile.

I sleep in my own car, in a bed far too empty for my liking. The chandelier above my head tinkles quietly. It's better than pure silence, because then I would only be stuck with my thoughts, and then sleep might never come.

I imagine Gale is lying beside me, warm to the touch. I roll over on my side as if I'm facing him, and I can almost see him. It's eerie what our minds can do when we are alone. I think of his hands, big and callused, running through my hair until the knots are out and it's silky smooth. He even smells warm. I can feel his stubble against my palms, his surprisingly soft lips on my own, and it makes my stomach flutter.

"Gale," I whisper. Maybe my imagination will be enough to keep me sane until the very end. My eyelids grow heavier with the promise of sleep and I can't tell if I'm awake or dreaming, or some combination of the two, when I feel hands on my belly. If I open my eyes, I risk losing him. So I keep my eyes closed, smiling as he rubs my stomach. He slides his hands up my nightgown, resting them around my navel, and I shiver. It all feels so real, and then a very different feeling wakes me. Gale's presence is gone, replaced by tiny twitches. They start slowly, and suddenly I feel like there are bubbles bursting inside of me. I think of feeling my mother's belly before Prim was born, and I realize my baby is kicking.

The first thing I feel is scared. My first instinct is to call for someone – my mother's name is on the tip of my tongue – and then I remember she isn't here with me. Is this normal? Am I okay? Is the baby okay? I seriously doubt Haymitch, Effie, or Peeta would know. I sit up and move my hand around my belly until I find the source of the kicking. She's only about five or so months along, but I can feel her tiny feet pressing against me. She sits still for a moment and gives me a chance to collect my thoughts.

My fear gives way to relief as I realize I haven't been alone at all. I have someone with me, and she isn't going anywhere. The baby flutters again and I lie back down, arm draped over my stomach, giving myself over to sleep and pleasant dreams.


We arrive in the Capitol when the sun is high in the sky. I have my hand on my stomach a lot more now, I've noticed, and when I feel the baby kick it's like our way of communicating. We treat ourselves to a big breakfast and as the train pulls into the station, I feel the food threatening to rise to my throat. I can hear people screaming and cheering through the train walls and I avoid the windows, trying to avoid the feeling of their eyes on me. This is going to be much worse than last year.

Peeta stands behind me at the window and puts a hand on my shoulder. I'm not in the mood for hand-holding. "We'll get right in there, nobody's going to touch you."

I nod and swallow. Effie touches my hair and I close my eyes. "I just want to make it inside in one piece."

The train stops and the roar of the brightly colored crowd intensifies. We step outside with a group of peacekeepers escorting us and push our way through the crowd.

"Katniss! Katniss!" Their voices, shrill and demanding, make my toes curl. Our path seems to grow narrower as we approach the doors. Hands brush my skin and I instinctively shrug them off. Don't touch me.

We push inside the tribute center and I gasp, finally getting some room to breathe. There is no shortage of decorations; the Capitol has gone all in for its Third Quarter Quell, and we tributes are the finishing touch. Back here again, ready to be preened and plucked like someone's dinner.

"Well, here we are again," Effie says with a sigh and flits her way over to the elevator. "You two are going to get prepped for the parade, and I'm going to relax." She makes a face at Haymitch when he wanders into the elevator next to her, and I watch them rise floor by floor until her bright gold hair is just a speck.


This time around, I spend much less time on the table. My brows and body hair are not as unruly as they once were and my team is pleased with how soft my skin is.

"It's that pregnancy glow," Flavius says as he pats my cheek.

I think of the baby as they finish making me presentable. What does she think of all this? She's drawing plenty of attention towards me; I can hear people whisper as they look my way.

"I didn't think it was real," a woman murmurs. I look up to see the statuesque blonde woman from District One, alongside an equally attractive man - Cashmere and Gloss, the siblings who won back to back. I remember the playback of their Reaping, where they grinned from ear to ear and pumped their fists. They want to be here. They want blood, and they're dressed for the part.

"It's real," I mumble, frowning when Octavia's curling iron grazes my neck. I look down at my stomach, which is protruding enough to give my condition away. There's no passing it off as bloating anymore.

"Well, well. Don't think that means you're safe," Gloss says snidely. He and his sister laugh and walk away, off to meet their fellow Careers and chide the lesser tributes.

"Don't listen to them," Octavia whispers. She has turned half of my hair into beautiful dark waves and moves to my other side to finish working. "Everyone I know wants you to pull through. They believe in you, Katniss. And they believe that baby makes you even stronger." When she smiles, dimples appear in her pudgy cheeks.

"She's right," Flavius says, brushing another coat of polish on my nails. "You're the favorite to win this year. Well…People feel the most sympathy for you, let me put it that way. They would be upset if you died."

"I would hope people felt that way regardless."

He raises his green eyebrows and lowers his voice. "Tributes are dispensable. You know that, don't you? But you're different. People really, really like you, Katniss. And they won't take it well if you don't survive."


Like a doll, I stand still and let other people dress me. My limbs are moved for me and I am fussed over. Cinna stands before me and quietly dismisses the prep team.

"Open your eyes," he murmurs. When I do, I see a taller, darker version of myself, wearing a dress with a high slit and high heels with straps all the way up my thighs.

"Wow."

He smiles. "I thought the bump might be an issue, but it just makes you look even stronger." He's right. Without a baby bump, I would just be another girl in a costume, but now I have someone else fighting with me, someone else to fight for. "Now they'll really know not to mess with you."

I smile and hug him. He smells like sandalwood and I feel his scruff brush my forehead. "Thank you. It's beautiful, as always."

"I'm still betting on you," he whispers. He kisses the top of my head and opens the door. "Ready to go?"

We walk outside, where the chariots and other tributes are waiting. The outfits are not nearly ridiculous this year; rather, everyone looks like adults. The bright colors and fluffy fabrics reserved for children are a thing of the past.

This is the real deal.

"Excuse me," a soft voice says. I turn around to see a fair-skinned and freckled goddess with wavy red hair. I stop staring at her face long enough to look down and see that she is practically naked, save for strategically placed seaweed over her breasts and nether regions. Her eyes are as wide as Prim's and just as blue, but one is a slightly different color. "I have to get to my chariot," she explains with a polite smile.

"S-sorry," I blurt, heat rushing to my cheeks. I keep staring at her even when I step aside to let her through. She walks up the line to the District Four horses and pets them affectionately. Renata Kelde, victor a few years prior. I distinctly remember hating her Games, which were set in a bleak tundra. The climax of those Games came when her district partner gouged out her eye – her eye. It was fake. My spine tingles.

"Checking out my girlfriend, are you?" The voice, smug and flirtatious, comes from behind. I'm already tired of people surprising me today. "Understandable, but I thought you were taken?"

This one I recognize instantly. "Of course. Wouldn't want to impose on you, Finnick."

He pops a sugar cube into his mouth and offers me one. "Want a sugar cube? Wait – should you? Isn't a pregnant woman supposed to eat healthy?" He pops that one in his mouth as well and chews with a smirk. "My, my, Katniss. You clean up well."

He's standing in front of me with nothing more than a fishing net around his waist. Unfortunately, even I am not immune to Finnick Odair's charms. "Are you buttering me up so it'll be easier to kill me?"

He laughs and steps closer. My instinct is to move backwards, but I stand my ground. I refuse to be bullied. "Why would I kill you, Katniss? We were just becoming such good friends."

I narrow my eyes at him and he tilts my chin up with a finger.

"I do have a heart, you know. There's some substance to me," he says in a murmur, green eyes searching my face. "Are you going to remember that when we're in the arena? Or would that be showing weakness?"

He slowly lets go of my chin and saunters to his chariot, giving Renata a kiss on the cheek and rubbing her lower back. So he does love someone.

"Making friends?" Peeta asks as he appears by my side, wearing a vest and pants of the same material my dress is made of. He helps me into the chariot and we steady ourselves as the doors open and our horses file out into the courtyard.

"Not friends. Allies."


AN: Thank you for reading! You all are so patient and I really appreciate you sticking around while I finish up my last year of college and apply to grad school (eek!). I just saw Mockingjay and I felt so inspired to write, because Gale and Katniss are so precious to me and now I have a better grasp on the world of District Thirteen. So now you know that's coming up! With the upcoming breaks in school I hope to get more writing done!

You may have noticed that I included a new character, Renata. She's the main character of my best friend kelsey731's Finnick/OC stories, which you should DEFINITELY go read if you haven't already! Kelsey has been instrumental in helping me get my ideas on this website, and I owe her a lot. So go read her stuff in the meantime, she's got plenty!

Also, my birthday is the 29th, so Galeniss love is my present to myself. :)