Obligatory Disclaimer: The Hunger Games series belongs to Suzanne Collins. No copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Note: So, a few of you (read: a LOT) were kind of thrown for a loop by the cliffhanger at the end of the last chapter. But no worries! Now you'll get at least some explanation of what the hell is going on with Annie and Finnick. And for you fellow pervs out there (of which I count myself among you), I feel inclined to tell (read: warn) you that there's going to be just a couple chapters of some rather angsty plot, and then it's back to the good stuff, so hang in there!
A big, gigantic thanks to my beta, TheMayorOfBlondeVille, for fixing my punctuation and sentence structure, and for her encouragement. Enjoy!
Chaff is able to leave Mags for a moment after she's calmed down a little in order to talk to me. He walks toward me with a grim look on his face, like even he can't believe what he just heard.
"She still shaken up?" I ask as he approaches me.
"Yeah," he says with a sigh. "I can't believe she kept this all to herself. I mean, she said she was going to tell me, but I guess she didn't plan on anything like this happening to them…"
"How in the world did Annie end up involved with Finnick?" I question as we move away from the rest of the tributes, not wanting them within earshot of our conversation.
"They knew each other before the Games," he explains, "even before his Games. Mags says they fell for each other when Annie was just fourteen, and Finnick was seventeen. He couldn't bear to pair bond with anyone else in his district, and so he ended up in the Reaping. And during the Games, he tried to play by the Gamemakers' rules and made a lot of tributes interested in him, but he still only wanted Annie, so he never actually let any women get close enough to him to consider him as a potential mate. And in the arena, the Gamemakers spun the footage of him to make him look like he was chasing after women, but really he was running from everyone else."
I can't help but think of how tragic it would be if Katniss and I were a few years apart like that, with the system that's in place. We wouldn't even have a chance, and I'd probably consider doing the same thing he did.
But look how it worked out for him…
"Hey," I ask, "is it true that the Capitol… sold his body?"
Chaff's expression contorts into a mix of pain and disgust. "Yeah… they did," he answers. "But first they… I don't—it's too disgusting."
"What is it?"
"They performed some… reconstructive surgery. Basically they castrated and sterilized him, so he couldn't reproduce at all. They do it to all Singles."
My thoughts swirl around me as I try to comprehend what Chaff is telling me.
"They do… what?"
Chaff scoffs, "Come on, Peeta, there's a reason all the Singles in Panem are known for being suicidal or having a drug habit or being generally insane. I had always just thought the Capitol scrambled their brains or something. But it's much worse than that."
I can't seem to keep my mind from racing.
Finnick. Johanna. Haymitch. The terrible fates that they suffered…
"Wait, how did they sell his body if he doesn't have a…"
"Yeah, having one of those myself, I was curious too. Well when Mags walked in on him and Annie, he was wearing some kind of… device strapped around him. She speculated that's what he wore to his Capitol jobs," he explains, his voice full of shame.
"And so, it's true that he tried to kill himself?" I inquire, fitting all the pieces together.
Chaff nods. "But according to Mags, he started writing Annie letters once the next years' Games came around. In the letters, Finnick said he realized that he would mentor the younger tributes, which meant if Annie never pair bonded when she turned eighteen, they would be able to be with each other again."
"Yeah, but look what happened to them. They got caught."
"Yeah… that's why Mags is especially afraid," he says ominously.
"Why is that?"
He sighs, "Because as the years went on, his letters became more and more… cryptic. He would say things like how some of his Capitol friends 'want more than the bread and circuses.' Or how he was 'looking forward to burrowing.' He would sometimes bring up other mentors, and how he 'enjoyed fighting the good fight with them.' Annie would show Mags some of the letters, and they would try and decode their meanings, and Mags always thought that he was into something suspicious. They never could figure out what he meant, but they made sure to note things that seemed important, like who he specifically mentioned by name."
My gaze drops to the floor as I ponder some of what Chaff has just told me. What could those messages mean? What could Finnick be involved in?
"Peeta," Chaff says to get my attention. I look up at him, and he's staring me right in the eye. "Your mentor, Haymitch, was mentioned several times in Finnick's letters."
Haymitch?
Haymitch! I've got to talk to Haymitch!
"Boys, what are you doing just standing here?" Atala asks, walking up to us and putting her hands on her hips. "You're wasting valuable time that could be used learning new skills."
"Sorry," we both mutter, and walk back toward the various stations. I scan the room and spot Katniss immediately, all by herself at a District 10 station. She's using a replica of a butcher knife to carve out all the fake meat inside a pretend cow. She looks angry.
Chaff rejoins Mags and Rue, who are at a District 4 station, and I'm about to follow him there when someone throws their arm around me.
"Hey, man!" Thresh greets me with a clap on the back. "What was that all about? Why were you talkin' to my man Chaff all serious?"
I suddenly feel ashamed. I can't tell Thresh anything that Chaff just told me, at least until I talk to Haymitch, and I feel disappointed that I have to keep secrets from someone I now consider a close friend.
"Oh, he was just telling me why Mags is so upset," I say, nodding my head in Mags's direction. She's sitting at the District 4 station, the color drained from her face, mindlessly weaving a net. "She, um… just got her menses."
"Man, that's foul," Thresh replies, sticking out his tongue. "No one's gonna touch her in the arena now… Well, except maybe Chaff himself. How fuckin' whipped does he look?"
Thresh nods in their direction, where Chaff is helping Mags untangle a knot she made with the netting. He doesn't look whipped to me. Just thoughtful. It reminds me of how I try to be with—
I glance over to the District 10 station, and I become paralyzed with fear.
I watch Cato as he steps up onto the station's platform, and he puts both his hands on the table and leans toward Katniss, who is standing on the other side. Instantly, she is scrutinizing him and backing away, as if she can sense the danger he poses to her.
Oh shit! Why didn't I warn her sooner? I didn't think he was actually going to do anything. Why did I think that? I am such a dumbass.
"You're pretty good with that knife," he remarks with a smirk that I'm sure he thinks looks suave, but really just looks creepy. "I'm Cato, by the way. You should come over to the District 2 stations. I'm sure there's a weapon there that you'd enjoy holding in your hands."
The euphemism is not lost on her, as I can see by the look of disgust that crosses her expression.
"Leave. Now," she orders.
"You're from 12, aren't you?" Cato continues as if she hasn't said a word. "My older sister's friend, Slater, told me I'd like the ones from 12."
Katniss' eyes widen, and Cato's smirk becomes more menacing.
"Slater would know," he tells her. "After all, she did come home with one when she was in the Games two years ago—"
"You get out of my sight!" Katniss demands, pointing the butcher knife at him. He just laughs, and touches the tip of the blade with his finger.
She must've forgotten it was fake.
"Oh please," Cato laughs as he moves the knife out of his face, "not even a real one could help you now—"
Suddenly, Cato is knocked to the ground, but I quickly realize that it wasn't Katniss who tackled him. I turn my head and find that Thresh is no longer standing next to me. He's instead on the ground, beating the crap out of Cato. They wrestle for a few moments, throwing punches at each other, and finally Thresh pins him and starts wailing on him.
"You messin' with my boy's girl, you messin' with me!" he snarls as his fists connect with Cato's jaw. Cato breaks free of Thresh's hold and lunges at him, grabbing Thresh's arm and twisting it behind his back. Thresh yelps in pain as Cato bends his arm further and further back, until Atala and the other trainers step in.
"That's enough!" she shouts, blowing her whistle. The trainers separate both boys and hold them back as they stare each other down. "There will be plenty of time to fight over girls in the arena, but not now," Atala reprimands them, then addresses the trainers, "Take them both to go get medical attention—we don't need them looking bruised for their interviews. And make sure to take them to separate wings of the clinic."
The other trainers nod and haul Thresh and Cato away in different directions. Cato comes my way, and as I stare at him, he looks up at me, and I can see the realization dawning on his face.
I'm Thresh's boy.
His expression turns murderous as he passes me, and for a moment I forget how to breathe.
I don't remember going to the other stations that day, or going to lunch. All I remember is feeling swept up in all the chaos that now surrounds me. Where are Finnick and Annie? How is Haymitch involved in all this? How many ways of killing me has Cato thought of already? And of course, the biggest question on my mind: how has all of this affected Katniss?
She makes it very clear throughout the day that she wants to be alone. She doesn't even sit with anyone at lunch. I sit with Mags and Rue and Chaff again, but no one makes any conversation. All I do is stare at her, watching the different emotions play out on her face, and it takes everything in me not to go over to her and hold her comfortingly in my arms.
If I know my Katniss, which I like to think I do, she would be more upset with a public display of affection than with a comforting embrace meant to console her. And so I wait, hoping we will at least get to have some time to ourselves on the rooftop tonight, after we watch the results of the DNA match.
At the end of the day, surprisingly, the district escorts come filing in to the Training Center to pick up their tributes.
"District 12!" Effie Trinket calls to us. "Over here, dears!" We all gather around Effie and she explains to us, her singsong tone back in full force, "The Gamemakers have decided to increase their security measures, and so from now on, you'll all be escorted to your various destinations by myself."
"Why?" Cooley asks.
"Well, dear, there have been some disturbing developments which pose a threat to you dear tributes, and we want to keep you safe, now don't we?"
That sounds like crap to me. 'To keep us safe?' More like keep us imprisoned, even more than we already are.
"Come, dears!" Effie trills, and we follow her to the elevator.
The dinner table is silent that night.
Dynah, Cecilia, and Cooley stay quiet, because while they weren't directly involved in the incidents today, they certainly bore witness to them. And of course neither Katniss nor Haymitch says anything, neither of them being ones for words anyway, but especially not tonight. But what's most surprising is even Effie keeps her mouth shut, uncertain how to avoid the topics of one tribute going missing and another two beating the shit out of each other.
Haymitch's presence does remind me, however, that I need to speak to him alone, and soon.
Once we're dismissed from dinner, Haymitch immediately gets up and stalks off toward his quarters. I stumble out of my seat and try to follow him, but Effie's intricately manicured hands stop me.
"Peeta, dear, I need to speak with you, and with Katniss," she tells me as she grabs my arm, yanking me back to my seat.
Oh no. Did she discover us on the roof last night? Did an Avox tell her?
She sighs dramatically and puts her hands over her mouth, shaking her head. "I don't know where to begin," she says, and I can't help but glance nervously at Katniss. She's staring at the empty place at the table, her face expressionless. Effie continues, "I'm just so concerned about you both. I mean, you've only attended one party! It's like you don't even want to find someone to pair bond with."
Wait, what now?
"That is why I've decided that you are not allowed to opt out of any more social functions," she tells us firmly, crossing her arms over her chest.
After a beat, Katniss responds curtly. "Fine," she says, pushing her chair out and walking swiftly toward her room.
"Uh, sure. That's fine," I follow Katniss' lead.
"Oh, good!" Effie cheers, clapping her hands. "I was expecting more objections from you two, but this is just lovely! Well, now that that's settled, I have some business to attend to before the results of the DNA match come on. Excuse me." She stands, grabbing her clipboard, and strutting out of the room triumphantly, leaving me alone at the table.
Ugh! On top of everything that's happened today, now we have to go to a stupid party, instead of getting more practice on the roof.
Not that Katniss seems in the mood to practice anyway…
Then I remember I need to talk to Haymitch. I spring out of my seat and walk as quickly as I can to his quarters. The door is closed, and I knock on it gingerly.
"What!" Haymitch shouts from the other side of the door.
"Um, Haymitch, can I talk to you?" I ask hesitantly.
Haymitch laughs, "Ha! Get lost, fag."
I exhale in a huff, irritated with what is clearly a front. "Haymitch," I start again, trying to remember all that Chaff had told me, "I need to talk to you about… about fighting the good fight."
I hear some rustling and the door to Haymitch's room flies open. He stands there looking disheveled, drink in his hand, scrutinizing me, and then hastily pulls me into his quarters.
"Tell me everything you know," he orders as he sits me down in a nearby desk chair.
"Well, I know about Finnick and Annie," I start.
"Pffft," Haymitch blows a raspberry. "Everyone knows that by now."
"No, I mean, I know their history."
His eyebrow arches and he pulls another chair up to mine. "Continue."
"I know that they were in love before he was in the Games, and he purposefully didn't pair with anyone, and… and I know what they did to him. To all of you."
Haymitch's expression falls. "So, you know about the angry inch," he remarks with a pitiful chuckle, knocking back some of his drink.
"Uh… yeah, I guess. And I know about Finnick's letters to Annie, and the cryptic messages in them. He mentioned you several times."
"Did he now? That son of a…" He shakes his head, and then asks, "That all?"
"I guess so."
"Who told you all this?"
"Chaff."
"From 11? How does he know?"
"He's pretty much paired with Mags, from 4. She's friends with Annie."
Haymitch ponders all this and then tells me, "Fine, you can go now."
What! And leave no closer to figuring out any of this? I don't think so!
"Hell no! I want you to tell me what's going on," I demand.
"Why should I?"
"Because I hate these fucking Games!" I shout at him. "I know who I love and want to spend my life with, and I hate having to prove to these Gamemakers that I'm worthy of her, or of anyone. I hate having to compete with guys twice my size, I hate having to see my friends getting beat up, I hate that one has been taken by Peacekeepers, and I hate seeing her like this, as detached from everyone as she ever was…"
My sorrow consumes me as I fall back into the chair with a huff.
"Boy," Haymitch calls me, and I look up to find a curious expression on his face. "Who are you talking about that you love so much?"
"Um… It—it's Katniss."
Haymitch bursts out laughing. "Katniss? Our Katniss?" he asks in between howls.
"Fine," I spit out, getting out of my chair. "Clearly this was a waste of time. I thought you'd be able to help us, but obviously not—"
"Now hold on!" Haymitch protests, making me sit back down. "Just cause she ain't my type doesn't mean I don't understand young love. Now… does she know about your feelings?"
I nod.
"And she reciprocates?"
I hesitate for second, and then nod again.
"Well, that's half the battle right there," he remarks. "Listen, uh, Peeta. I can help you. But you cannot tell another soul what I'm about to tell you."
"Not even Katniss?"
"No. That girl plays by her own rules. It'll be better if you can get her to just follow your lead. Now, do you swear not to tell anyone?"
I think about it for a moment, and decide that if Haymitch really can help Katniss and I, then it'll be worth it to trust him.
"I swear," I answer.
"Good. Now, I'm sure a smart boy like you knows that those things in Finnick's letters to Annie were pieces of code. Like, 'fighting the good fight.' That's the code for the growing rebellion, of which Finnick and myself and some others are a part. Give me another one."
"Uh, Finnick said his Capitol friends 'want more than the bread and circuses.'"
"That means there's some Capitol people are involved too. Can't say who though, it's too dangerous. What else?"
"Uhh… Oh! He said he was 'looking forward to burrowing.' What is that one?"
Haymitch runs a hand through his hair and replies, "Now, that I can't tell you, specifically. But I can say it's where we'll escape to."
"We're escaping?"
Haymitch winks in response.
"When is this happening?"
"Can't tell ya that either. The time's not right," he answers, standing and moving to the door. "But what I can tell you, is which tributes you should be talking to."
"Who are they?" I ask as I stand and follow his lead.
He leans in and says softly, "There's another couple just like you and your sweetheart in the Games. They're from District 3. Find them and tell them, 'bread alone will not sustain you.' Say it exactly like that. Now, what was it?"
"Bread won't sustain you?" I answer him questioningly.
"Bread alone! Bread alone will not sustain you," he corrects me, grabbing me by the arms and shaking me.
"Bread alone will not sustain you!" I repeat, the tone in my voice pleading for him to stop rattling me around.
He stops and looks me square in the eye. "Good," he rules, straightening his jacket. "Now come on, it's time for the results of the DNA match. Let's go see who'd mix well with your swimmers." He grabs his drink and rushes out the door, pulling me along with him.
We walk out the living room and find almost everyone assembled on the couches. I'm surprised to even see Cinna and Portia here as well. I make my polite hellos to them and sit near the end of the long sectional next to Portia as Haymitch plops down in the center of the couch. Effie finally arrives with Katniss in tow, and it looks like Effie actually has to prod her along in order to get her to come.
I can barely look at Katniss as she sits between Haymitch and myself, but almost instantaneously I feel alive and vibrating with energy. It's the closest we've been to each other all day, and I've missed her, and it's killing me that I can't just snuggle up with her on this couch and run my hands through her smooth hair, which she's taken out of her braid.
The television clicks on and the announcers greet us, everyone in the Capitol, and all of Panem. They explain that each tribute has contributed a lock of hair—which must've happened during our remake—that contains a complicated strand of our DNA. Capitol scientists have analyzed it and have determined the three best matches that would provide the most variation in our offspring.
"Variation of DNA is one of the keys to survival," the announcers explain. "Those who have DNA too similar to each other run the risk of bearing children who are more susceptible to disease and death."
It's the same explanation every year, although this year it feels different. I know why it does—it may partially determine the fate of the rest of my life, and Katniss' life as well.
I really hope Haymitch and the couple from District 3 can actually help us.
They announce the tributes one by one, starting with District 1, and naturally, the Careers pair well with each other.
Cato's photo shows up on the screen, and I hold my breath.
Glimmer, District 1.
Lyme, District 2.
Katniss, District 12.
Oh, fuck.
I glance over at Katniss, who everyone is congratulating, and find her glaring at the television screen.
Well, at least she's not happy either.
Thresh and Clove actually do end up being good matches for one another, as do Mags and Chaff. Annie is matched with Gloss, from 1, Blight, from 7, and Woof, from 8. Rue would pair well with Micro, from 3, Titus, from 6, and Jud, from 10. And each of the other girls from 12 gasp and giggle as their names show up as good matches for the various male tributes.
The fox-faced girl from 5 comes up a total of seven times, which is almost unheard of in the DNA match, but of course, only three of those male tributes are the best match for her.
I end up being a good match for Cashmere, from 1, and Mags, of all people, as well as Twill's friend, Bonnie. But none of these matter.
Especially not when Katniss' photo comes up.
Cato, District 2.
Silo, District 9.
Peeta, District 12.
I… wha?
That's me!
Oh, sweet chocolate cake! We're actually a match!
My photo soon appears, and Katniss is listed for me as well. The group chuckles and cheers at us, and I can feel my cheeks getting hot as I marvel in the fact that the Capitol has announced that even they would approve of our pair bond.
But the mood takes a dive when Katniss abruptly stands and runs from the room.
Ugh, even I hate how angstily (yeah, that's not a word, but I'm using it anyway) this chapter ended. Katniss needs to learn to deal with her emotions better, that is for sure. But hey, at least she and Peeta were a match! And OMG, a rebellion! A rebellion that Katniss wasn't the spark of? Inconceivable! Well, except for in this story, because I enjoy fucking with canon. :D
Did any of my musical theater geek readers find a reference in this chapter? It's a pretty obvious one if you know the musical, but the musical is a little obscure...
I love hearing what you guys think of the story, so please review!