DISCLAIMER: I do not own Hunger Games

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"I couldn't believe how perfectly it all went," Peeta exclaims cheerfully. "I was a little worried there for a second that Katniss wouldn't be able to do it, but deep down I know her too well. She's a fighter. Even as much as I know she loves me she realizes there is a bigger play at stake."

"Try watching her!" Haymitch replies with equal enthusiasm. "I was screaming in her ear and she wasn't moving and I thought Gale was going to have to step in after all. He's nowhere near as good a shot as she is, though, and having to rely on his skills made me even MORE nervous!"

"Hey!" Gale shouts. "I could've made it…maybe…"

There is laughter around me, but it's muffled, as if there is a very thin wall between. My eyes don't open immediately, but my ears have been listening for the last fifteen minutes, trying to catch the conversation. I blink and move slowly, trying to find my bearings and release some of the weight of sleepiness before taking in the room I'm lying in. It's dim in here but as I turn my head from side to side I can see light peeking through heavy, tall curtains. I move my shoulders and feel them sink deeper into a very thick, very soft bed. I blink again, willing my eyes to adjust to the light. The more I realize I don't know the less tired I feel.

"So how much time do think we've got now," Peeta asks casually.

"Oh, at least a week," Haymitch replies with the same nonchalant tone, "maybe more. Those flames have nearly destroyed the hovercraft. Marco and Dennisille will take their time working on it, too. Communications will be down with them for at least five days, and then we'll get regular check-ups. We just have to be really careful. Snow is a very smart man. He fell into this trap like a champ, but I don't know if he'll fall into the second one just as easily. As long as he never changes his mind, and he rarely does…"

There's silence for a second and I can almost hear them thinking. I listen for more sounds to help me understand the room, but I hear a quiet drip and I know all too well what it means. Squeezing my fingers into a weak fist, I feel the memorable sensation – wires and tubes stuck into the veins on the back of my hand. I groan in disgust, but barely audibly.

"You should have seen the look on Snow's face when those flames went up!" Gale adds loudly. "Too bad the chemicals were designed to destroy metals! Maybe if he'd had a fake leg like Peeta here, we'd be in business!"

There is more laughter and then a quick shushing.

"You're going to wake her up," Haymitch tries to say softly, but I can hear a hint of laughter still on his voice.

When did Peeta and Gale become friends? Peeta never talked about it much, but I was certain the idea of him being able to touch me was repulsive and abhorrent to Gale. Painful to say the least.

A couple more drips and I sit up slowly. My body accepts the movement easily and I spin to set my legs over the side of the bed, throwing the heavy and warm blankets off my body. I'm only in a thin nightdress and imagine Peeta dressing me. It's cold out of the bed, but I ignore the goosebumps and look at my hand. With another low groan, I exhale and pull the tubes out.

"Ugh," I say in a nearly silent, gruff voice. "No thanks."

The now open veins bleed and I look around for something to press onto them. The room is more discernable at this point and I can tell that this bed is massive. There is a bedside table next to me, but only a long, curvy lamp to take up space and I look around the room for anything else. There is a tall window on one wall and large, double doors on the opposite side. A small table sits next to the door, but it only holds a bouquet of feathers. Then I see two smaller doors with a grand, wooden vanity indented in a small space between. One of these has to be a bathroom and surely there would be a towel or something to lie on my hand for a while.

I scoot off the bed, my feet pressing down into a soft, plush carpet. It looks pale, almost matching the color of the walls, and I walk slowly, carefully towards the doors. The first one I open is a closet, full of strange smells and clothes I've never seen before.

Where am I?

I pass the vanity in a couple short steps and open the other door. It's brighter in here and the windows are half open. A claw-foot bathtub takes up the center of the room and I immediately see a few towels hanging sloppily over the edge. I wonder if Peeta had bathed earlier and shake the image of his tone body out of my head, though so much has happened in the last month it feels good to have a carefree thought.

The smallest towel balls perfectly around my left hand and I sigh deeply, leaning down against the narrow edge of the tub. I release the rest of my weight onto the side, but realize too late I can't keep my balance and fall, clanging and flailing into the porcelain hole.

I hear the doors swing open a second later. A loud clink and swooshing noise tells me the curtains are flying open in the bedroom and see a bright light spill over the carpet outside. Peeta reaches me at the same time in the bathroom and laughs at my precarious position – my body nearly folded in half, my legs sticking out one side, with my head on the other.

"Well don't just stand there," I huff, "help me out of here."

Peeta laughs again and reaches for my waist, picking me up completely before setting me down on the ground.

"How are you feeling? Rested?" He asks, pushing the hair out of my face.

"Yes, but I could've done without the needles." I raise my toweled hand and he chuckles some more.

"We weren't sure what you needed. Just precautionary, of course. You scared us half to death fainting like that. We didn't know if you'd been shot or stabbed or something."

I roll my eyes and sigh. "Thank you. Just don't do it again unless I honestly, seriously, without a shadow of a doubt need it."

I hear another laugh and look up to see Haymitch in the doorway. He looks jovial and sober.

"Welcome back to the living, sweetheart," he says with a smile.

I raise my hand to him as well. "Peeta knows how to handle the situation next time, got it?"

Haymitch nods once with the same grin and I wonder what the men are so pleased about. They've been laughing outside the room for a while now, but it doesn't sound like we're done with Snow.

"I take it by the look of you that you're pleased with what happened…what, yesterday? This morning? How long have I been sleeping?"

"Not too long – just 22 hours or so –"

"Wait, I've been out for an entire day?!"

Peeta nods and doesn't skip a beat. "– and yes. Everything went perfectly."

"Yeah, right to the plan," Gale adds, now standing beside Haymitch.

My heart lifts and I try to remember the last scene. I remember Haymitch screaming at me, and I remember everyone telling me to shoot the arrow into the coal pile while Peeta was still standing there. And then I did, but it wasn't the explosion I was expecting. A large purple wall of flames engulfed Snow like a fence just as Peeta, Aiden and Bellow blew backwards from its reach. I don't remember Snow lying on the ground in the twisted, contorted position I imagined his death would bring, either.

"What exactly happened?" I try, but Haymitch shrugs me off.

"We'll tell you about it at dinner. I swear. Every last bit. Take a bit of time, get dressed and we'll fill that body with some REAL sustenance."

He says this strangely and that reminds me of one question before he walks away. I step past Peeta and call at Haymitch and Gale's backs just as they reach the door.

"By the way, where are we?"

I hear one last chuckle and Haymitch calls back, "the Capitol."

I stand in place and let it soak in. The Capitol? What are we doing here? Wasn't everything destroyed? I saw District 12. I heard about the Capitol bombings. Isn't everything left in Panem except for District 13 nothing but rubble?

I look around the room again, now fully lit with daylight and see that it is a beautifully furnished space. The giant bed, all the tables, the vanity, the carpet. Everything looks perfect and untouched. Definitely not victim of a violent bombing. I turn around to face Peeta, catching him in the doorway as he walks towards me.

"Please, explain that much," I say almost pleadingly.

Peeta doesn't speak right away, but shrugs towards the window and I follow him over. Sunlight floods my face and it takes a second to focus on the world below. When it does, I'm amazed by what I see.

The city that had once twinkled and bustled with the latest crazy fashion trends and ignorant, happy people is now a wasteland, a giant grey pile of concrete, glass and mess. Where tall towers used to spread out along the skyline, I can see unobstructed for miles. The entire ambience that was this massive, completely unaware world is nothing but a stretch of ash and junk. There are no cars driving along the roads, no people shouting or cheering. I look a little harder and realize there are people out there, though. To the left there is a group of men working hard as they shovel piles of dirt and throw chunks of brick into organized sections. To the right, a group of children playing, hopping over obstacles and laughing.

That's when I realize we're high in the air. My view towers over everything below and I try to remember the layout of the city. What building we must be standing in…what tower might have survived?

"We're in the training center?" I ask, baffled.

Peeta continues to gaze out the window and replies simply, "Yep."

"But how…I mean…did Snow intend for this to stay put? How is it not like everything else?"

Peeta turns to me now.

"Remember the force field on the roof?"

I nod.

"Well, when you want it to, it can cover more than just the air off the top of the building."

"Was that Snow's plan or yours?"

"Snow's, but we didn't want to stop him. He had it installed after the first seven rebel spies infiltrated the Capitol. He wanted to secure the one place that, for him, represented the Capitol's control over everyone else, their dominance. However, as soon as Pierot heard about it, he started formulating the plan that we're following through now. It's perfect and Snow couldn't be any wiser about it."

"And you're going to wait to give me the details of the rest of the plan like always, aren't you?" The brightness of the sky fills me and it's hard to get angry even though I really want to.

Peeta steps into me, wrapping his arms around me. I lift mine to allow his limbs to completely encircle my waist and squish myself against his chest. I can feel his rough hands through the thin fabric of my nightdress and I have a good guess he can feel the small of my back as well. I nestle in closer to his body and he squeezes a bit tighter, sighing and kissing the top of my head.

"Thank you," I say softly.

"For what?"

"For warning me."

I can feel Peeta smile across the crown of my head. "If you didn't trust me so much I might have had to worry."

I smile back against his body. "Yeah. You're lucky I still do after all the secrets you've kept from me."

Peeta doesn't reply, but I can tell his smile stays. I let out a gentle kiss onto his chest and close my eyes, inhaling him. Even though I am completely aware that what I thought was a done deal a day ago still has more to go, and even though I should feel burdened with the idea of this, I am content to stay in Peeta's arms for a little longer, blissfully unaware of the details that hang on other's shoulders. There is something that feels peaceful right now. Maybe it was the cheerfulness the three men displayed as I awoke, maybe it's still the bright blue sky, but I can't help but feel like whatever the Brain has up their sleeve now is going to be as concise and intelligent just as brilliant as everything they've done in the last 15 years has been. And something tells me this is really it. This is really the end.

I fiddle with my dress uncomfortably as we wait for the elevator to take us down.

"Stop that already," Peeta scolds. "You look beautiful and I know you've worn worse things than that before."

"It's not the type of dress, I just haven't worn one in a while and I feel strange."

"I told you back in the room you didn't have to put anything on, but you insisted. So, it's your fault if you're unhappy with all that fabric covering the best parts of you."

I give Peeta a look, half rolling my eyes and shaking my head. The closet had been stocked with clothes that fit me perfectly. Some of them were a little to outrageous for my tastes and I was sure these were old clothing items left by tributes in the past. This wasn't the room either Peeta or I stayed in during our time here, but were certainly on the 12th floor. I didn't care much one way or the other – I was just happy to have something clean to put on.

The dress is dark blue and hits just below the knees in a simple shape. It would be a very comfortable and otherwise flattering outfit to put on (which I know from all of the time with the Hunger Games even though I honestly never cared much about what I wore), but it didn't feel quite right. Maybe it was just me that didn't feel right. I certainly felt rested, but anytime I've slept that long I always seem to feel like I could just a little bit more.

The elevator doors slide open and Peeta and I step in. We're lucky there was isolated generative power for this building. It is completely self-sustaining so we have lights, power, running water. I don't know how many people are here with us, how many lucky Thirteeners have been able to shower and sleep in real beds, but I have a feeling it's a packed house. I think quickly about District 13 and wonder how my mother and Prim are doing. Maybe they're here, too. I don't ask Peeta, but make a mental note to do so later.

When the doors open again I immediately hear the sound of people talking and moving and bustling about. Peeta grabs my hand and leads me out into a hallway full of smiling faces. I recognize many of them, but everyone is so clean, it's a little hard to decipher who is who without tattered clothes hanging off their shoulders.

"Good to see you, Katniss," one man says gleefully. He's wearing a navy suit with a tan shirt unbuttoned at the top. He looks quite sharp if I do say so myself. Peeta, of course, in his dark grey suit and white shirt is absolutely gorgeous and there's no avoiding it no matter who you are.

I smile back and thank the man just as another approaches with a similar sentiment. I keep my hand tightly enclosed in Peeta's and let him lead me forward, smiling and greeting and thanking everyone as they say hello or welcome me back. They crowd around us and I try to move closer in to Peeta's side, but it's not much help. Just as long as he doesn't drop my hand and leave me here to the happy mob.

We walk through a pair of double doors, propped open, and see a large dining hall. There must be at least 300 hundred people in this space, possibly more. Tables are crowded and many are standing with plates in their hands, but everyone is laughing and smiling and as soon as we enter their attention turns to us with more cheer than I care to understand.

And then they begin to clap.

For us?

I look around to see who else is behind us, but all eyes are definitely directed at Peeta and me. I look towards him, but he is looking at his feet bashfully. He doesn't stop and continues to pull me forward until I see Haymitch standing and beaming towards us. Finnick is at his side, as well as Gale, and then my expression lifts when I see my mother and Prim at the table, looking just as satisfied. I drop Peeta's hand and run to them. Prim steps away from the table and meets me half way, throwing her arms around me. I kiss the top of her head and squeeze her tightly.

"You didn't say good-bye!" I scold.

"I couldn't – I was already here," she replied.

"What?" I ask. "When did you leave?"

"While you were sleeping. But I knew I would see you again. You're Katniss Everdeen – of course I would see you again."

Prim's face lights up with pride and I remember just how much I love the way she thinks of me. She's always trusted me, looked up to me. When I got home from the first Hunger Games she told me that she knew I would come home because I was the smartest one in there.

My mother moves to us, more slowly than Prim had. Her smile is not as exuberant, but then she has never had the enthusiasm Prim or I have had. The enthusiasm of our father. She sighs and then opens her arms. I fall into them easily and give her strong, but short hug.

"I'm so glad you're back," she coos.

It feels good to have a mother treating me like I am her child for once, even though I'm far from the kid she abandoned so many years ago.

The clapping subsides and Peeta pulls out a chair for me next to Gale.

"Quite the entrance, eh?" Gale says as he dives into a pile of mash. The smell is intoxicating and I sit back eagerly as Prim sets a plate in front of me. "We got something similar, but I tell you what, they wouldn't stop asking about you. Wondered when you were going to show up."

"Why?" I ask shyly.

Haymitch laughs. "You're their leader, remember?"

I hadn't remembered, actually, and its strange being reminded of this fact whenever I am. The last time it had really been brought up was after I socked Haymitch for being so expressive with his sexual references in regards to my husband and me. We'd needed to be more public with our affections, he told me. I could keep my clothes on, just kiss the boy once in a while when someone else is in the room. The people wanted to know that what they had followed into the caves was real and still as much on fire as it was before. Funny thing for people to follow, but I suppose when your relationship with someone starts an entire world into rebellion, how can you really hide it?

Johanna joins us a little bit later and sits close to Finnick. They've built a solid friendship over the last couple of months and I can tell they find comfort in each other's personalities. I dive into the food, savoring every last bit. Jokes are made, random comments are sent from one of the table to the other. Everyone is in an explicitly good mood and I wonder how long it will last.

I survey the bodies in this large space. Everyone is dressed beautifully. Some are even in the more eccentric pieces I would've shied away from. Heads of hair washed and coifed, fingernails cleaned and shiny. The women are radiant, the men are strong. So many of these faces I've watched sink in as food grew more and more scarce. I've seen mothers cry over their children and men hunker over lost loved ones. I've watched these people become lovers and parents, teenagers and adults, all in such a short time…and every one of them is here because I was brave enough to tell someone no.

"Wine?" A gentle voice asks, stirring my attention.

I turn back to the table and see Keplina standing over me with a tall green bottle in hand.

"Of course she'll have wine," Haymitch adds. For the first time tonight I realize he's sober. "We'll all have wine…just a small glass for me, though,"

Prim chuckles and Finnick slaps him on the back.

"What are we toasting?" I ask, my eyes circling the table.

"We're toasting a job well done, and cheering to the final act of this play going off…explosively."

Everyone else laughs and I reach for the glass. Gale and Prim stand and the rest of us follow suit until we're standing in a tight circle, our glasses raised in front of us.

"Well, good work yesterday to everyone. To Finnick, for getting everyone out safely and here to the Capitol, to Peeta for playing the part perfectly, to Johanna, Paul, Jacob and Keplina for fearlessly taking out the Peace Keepers and protecting our spies, to Gale for keeping Katniss safe, and to Katniss for having the balls to potentially kill the man she loves in stake of the rest of you scum."

There are loud cheers and a few laughs and the glasses begin to clink together. I bring my glass back, but the second the smell of the wine hits my nose I think I'm going to be sick. I clasp my mouth shut, drop the glass on the table unable to stop it from spilling, and look for a bathroom.

"Katniss?" Prim asks, immediately catching my reaction. "Over there!" She points towards a set of doors to the far side of the room and I take off running, grateful there were flats in the closet to go with this dress.

I hear Prim stop Peeta and follow me into the toilet stall. I stand for a moment over the porcelain, but realize it's no use and drop my face towards the water. All of the delicious food comes back up in a muddled, burning mess and Prim holds my hair gently to the side.

She doesn't say anything to me, but Prim was always good with things like this. Something good she gets from my mother. If the roles were reversed I can't say I could sit and watch her send these gross pink and green chunks out of her throat without doing the same or running from the room.

After a second good round of hurling, I can tell my stomach is empty again. I sit back on my legs and prim drops my hair, handing me a wad of tissue paper instead.

"Well at least you'll never be an alcoholic like Haymitch," Prim jokes.

I let out one huff of laughter and nod, but something tells me this isn't about the wine. Prim doesn't think so either.

"I thought this might be the case," she says softly, letting herself fall to the floor next to me. "When they told me you were dizzy, and even that you blacked out, I knew it couldn't be because of the mission itself. You're too brave for that."

I look up at her, my eyes frightened, but receptive.

"It's possible," I reply, "but I really hope I've just got the flu."