Hi guys! I'm back with a brand new chapter. This one proved quite difficult to write but I got there eventually.

Thanks again to everyone who has reviewed. I'm sorry for not replying to you all. I'll do my best to get round to it soon. :)

The journey back to Victors Village is tense to say the least. Cressida rides up front with me and Peeta while Pollux, Gale and his crew take the benches in the back with the luggage. I keep my head down and practise deep breathing. There's no way I'm going to lose it in front of everyone.

President Paylor kept one Victor's house vacant so the film crew would have somewhere to day for Memorial Week. Of course, it had to be the one next to mine. Our neighbours watch curiously as we pile out of the truck. Lorraine waves to us from her front yard and Haymitch glares from his porch as he swigs back a bottle of white liquor. Begrudgingly I lead our visitors into the house with Peeta trailing at the back of the group. I keep a wide berth between myself and Gale. His eyes follow my every move as I show them the kitchen appliances, the bathrooms and eventually the upstairs bedrooms. I turn to Cressida suddenly.

"Are you going to be ok sharing a house with these guys?" I ask, wrinkling my nose. "There's a spare room at my place."

She smiles. "Katniss, I'll be fine. There are 3 bedrooms here and I'm sure none of the guys would object to me taking one for myself." She pins them with a look that dares them to challenge her before winking at me. "No need to worry about me. I can hold my own."

The men pair off and take the remaining two bedrooms. Gale glance back at me but I avert my eyes quickly. I force myself to pay attention as Cressida explains the plans for the week and asks permission to read my speech. I hesitate to tell her that it's not actually written down.

"It's all up here," I mumble, pointing to my skull.

"That's ok. I assumed as much. Perhaps after dinner tonight you could give me a brief overview?"

I agree and linger for a few seconds before turning to leave.

"Katniss," A voice calls to me. Gale. "Can I.."

"Not now, Gale," I hiss, heading for the stairs. I can't do this right now. I can't. I feel his hand touch my shoulder and I open my mouth, a string of curse words lined up on my tongue. But I don't get the chance. Peeta grabs hold of Gale's wrist, forcing him to let go of me. I'm stunned. Peeta has been so quiet I had forgotten he was there. He narrows his eyes at Gale who stares back in mild shock. A form of non-verbal communication passes between them. I hold my breath. Suddenly Peeta releases his grip on Gale and descends down the stairs.

"Maybe later then," Gale mutters in defeat.

I nod mutely before chasing after Peeta, catching up with him just as he reaches our front door. I follow him into the hallway.

"Are you ok?" He asks frantically, rounding on me so suddenly that I jump back. His hands hover over my arms as if he wants to touch me but they shake furiously so he pulls back and hides them in his pockets. I take a step towards him.

"I'm fine," I tell him calmly. "Are you ok?"

He chews nervously on his lip and wanders into the living room. I follow closely and sit by him on the sofa. "I'm sorry about…what happened," he mumbles. "I don't know what came over me. I guess I haven't really figured out how I feel about him."

I scoff. "That makes two of us then." The words are out before I have time to think about how it must sound. Hurt flickers only briefly in Peeta's expression but I catch it and grab hold of one of his shaking hands.

"I don't mean it that way," I say quickly. "Gale and I…it was never like that. And now," I feel my chest restrict. "When I think of him all I see is exploding parachutes and dying children."

Peeta looks at me sorrowfully. "You don't know for sure that the bombs were his."

I shake my head. "I don't need to be sure. I know he helped designed them. That means he was capable of it."

Peeta sighs and rakes a hand through his blonde hair. It's gotten long and it curls a little at the end now. I like it that way. "I don't understand why Plutarch needed to send a security team anyway." He says.

I frown. He's right. Why did Plutarch send a security team? District 12 was always a mostly peaceful district. The only threat here is from wild animals. Could there be something that Plutarch isn't telling me? I make a mental note to ask Cressida after dinner. We agreed to all eat together tonight; something I'm sincerely dreading. I realise that we now have three extra mouths to feed too.

"I'll rustle something up," Peeta says when I tell him of our dilemma. "Cooking might help to calm me down anyway." He places a lingering kiss to my forehead before heading to the kitchen. I'm left to ponder anxiously about Gale's intentions and whatever else Plutarch is hiding from me.

I bounce my leg nervously under the table, trying my hardest to breathe normally. I'm usually a huge fan of silence but tonight I feel suffocated by it. I feel the tension washing off of Peeta in waves as he stares hard at Gale across the table. Gale's companions, brothers from District 2 who introduced themselves as Hadley and Hanson, seem oblivious to the silent conflict occurring right under their noses while Cressida watches us all intently. She clears her throat and leans forward at the table.

"Dinner is delicious, Peeta. Thank you." She comments. I have to agree with her. Pasta is a fairly new commodity in District 12. Peeta had been eager to experiment with the new ingredients when they first arrived on a train from the Capitol. Tonight he has prepared spaghetti with a rich tomato sauce that leaves a zing in my mouth.

"Thank you," Peeta replies, his face softening slightly. "I'm glad you liked it."

"Do you still bake?" She asks, doing her best to keep the conversation light. I really do need to thank her for it later.

"I do," he replies, twirling spaghetti around his fork. His voice becomes less terse. I notice he's always happiest when he's talking about food. "I'm about to open my own bakery actually. But I enjoy cooking just as much. Katniss and I were thinking of planting a vegetable garden out back." He turns to me with a smile and I smile back.

"Why would you plant it in her backyard if you're the one that does all the cooking?" Gale asks abruptly. "Don't you have your own garden?"

I gulp loudly. Clearly Gale didn't notice the new family living in Peeta's old house. I clench my hands so tightly that my fingernails dig into my palms. This is not a conversation I planned on having tonight. Peeta sits up tall, his expression impassive.

"I live with Katniss now," he says plainly. "The backyard is as much mine as it is hers."

Gale emits an odd strangled noise and pushes back from the table. He stands and Peeta rises up to meet him. Hadley and Hanson watch on with a look that I can only interpret as amusement but this confuses me. This situation is far from amusing.

"Katniss," Cressida says suddenly. "Let's go have a chat in the living room."

I open my mouth to object but she reaches for my hand and pulls me from the kitchen. I find my voice once we're shut in the living room.

"We can't leave them in there together!" I exclaim. "They looked like they were ready to pull each other to pieces!"

Cressida places a hand of my shoulder and guides me to the sofa. "Leave them to it" she tells me. "I promise things will be better once they've battled it out."

I frown and fidget nervously. "Peeta isn't usually like this."

"Its caveman instinct," Cressida says. "They feel a need to defend their territory. Once an Alpha has been appointed all the showing off and sparring will coming to an end."

"Sounds like you're describing a pack of wild dogs, not a bunch of grown men," I grumble. "What's Gale doing here anyway? Why didn't Plutarch tell me?"

Cressida frowns. "I've been asking myself the same question. I'll give him hell when I see him." She releases a sigh and takes my hand. "Gale is here because he volunteered to come. President Paylor insisted that each District be assigned a security team to keep an eye on things during Memorial week. Gale wanted to come back to 12."

This doesn't sit right with me. My brows knit together in confusion. "Keep an eye on things?" I ask. "Is the President expecting some sort of trouble?"

Cressida shrugs. "I honestly don't know. They wouldn't tell me anything. My guess would be that not everyone is thrilled about government money being spent on memorial monuments when many of the Districts are still struggling to rebuild."

That could be true. Initially I hadn't warmed to the idea either. Still, I can't let go of the feeling that something is not right. Cressida shakes me from my thoughts with a gentle nudge.

"Forget about that for now," she says. "Let's talk about your speech. I know Plutarch agreed to let you come up with something on your own. So let's hear what you've got so far."

I bite my lip. "I don't know where to start. I know what I want to say but I can't put the words in order."

She reaches into one of the pockets in her cargo trousers and pulls out a scrap of paper and a pencil. She flattens it out against her thigh and hands it to me. "Write down any words that come to mind when you think of what this memorial will symbolise."

I chew thoughtfully on the end of the pencil and start to write.

Cressida was right. After that night something changed between Peeta and Gale. Peeta wouldn't tell me what went on after I left the kitchen but from the look of Gale's black eye and Peeta's bloody nose I was left in no doubt that things had gotten physical. Strangely though, the tension between the two of them had all but disappeared. They greeted each other civilly, even bantered over dinner. Peeta assured me they had come to some sort of understanding but I still felt wildly unsettled by the whole thing.

"You should talk to him," he said one evening as he untangled my hair from its braid.

"I can barely look him in the eye," I had scoffed. "Why would I want to talk to him?"

"You'll regret it if you don't settle things with him," he told me simple. I knew he was right.

The note I left for Gale this morning could have left him in not doubt of where I wanted to meet. Our usual spot; the rock ledge overlooking the valley. I lean against the trunk of a tree and roll a ripened berry between my fingers, becoming trapped in my thoughts until I hear the sound of earth being crushed underfoot. I turn to see Gale dressed in full uniform. He points accusingly to his boots.

"It's impossible to tread lightly in these," he grumbles. "I knew you'd hear me from a mile away."

I nod mutely and look back at berry in my hand. I squeeze it between my fingers and the sticky purple juices stain my skin. I let it drop to the ground before plucking another from the nearby bush and starting the process all over again. Gale brushes past me and perches at the end of the rock ledge.

"I've missed this view," he says, looking out over the valley of lush green trees. He sighs. "I think about that day all the time."

I know what day he means; the day of the reaping. The day my life changed forever. We'd sat in this very spot, eating bread and cheese and blackberries and fantasising about a life in the woods. How naive we were.

"Why did you call me out here, Katniss?" He asks. Hearing him speak my real name instead of my nickname reminds me of just how far apart we've drifted.

"Peeta thought it would be good if we talked," I respond, willing my voice to stop quivering.

Gale clucks his tongue. "Peeta," He touches the fading bruise under his right eye. "I underestimated that kid."

I frown at the word 'kid'. Gale has always viewed himself as being that much older when in reality he's only two years ahead of me and Peeta. "Why did you volunteer to come here?" I ask frostily.

"12 is still my home, Katniss," Gale replies just icy. "I don't need your permission to visit."

This was a bad idea. I shouldn't have let Peeta talk me into this. I push myself away from the tree trunk and turn to leave.

"Katniss, wait, "Gale calls desperately. I stop in my tracks and look back at him. "I wanted to see you," he says softly. "I'm sorry. I know it was wrong of me to surprise you like that. I just… I needed to make sure you were ok and I knew you would tell me not to come if I asked."

"Well I'm fine," I mumble, kicking the dirt with the toe of my boots. "I'm doing much better thanks to Peeta."

Gale smiles weakly. "I can see that." He pauses and takes a step towards me. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you."

I feel tears stinging in my eyes and I blink them back. "I didn't want you around," I tell him honestly. "Not after…"

Gale hangs his head sorrowfully and sits back against a rock. "I know there is nothing I can do or say to make up for what happened," he croaks. "I wish I could go back and…"

"Well you can't!" I snap. Gale has always been one for 'what if' and 'if only' but I prefer to live in the real world. I see not point in wishing you could change something that has already happened. I take a deep breath and step towards Gale.

"Gale, I know you didn't kill Prim," her name still sends a stab of pain through me. "It doesn't matter to me if it was the Capitol or the Rebels who dropped those bombs. What matters to me is that you created them in the first place. You didn't intend to kill my sister, but those bombs would have killed someone…someone else's sister or brother or mother. You intended to cause maximum casualties with those things and that's something I can't move past!"

Gale stands and closes the distance between us. His eyes are wet with unshed tears. "I lost my way, Katniss," he whispers. "I hate myself for what I've done. I hate what it's done to us..." He touches my face softly and I feel it burn my skin but I don't pull away. "I loved you, you know."

I close my eyes and the tears leak out. "I know." I take holds of Gale's hand and place it back at his side. He wilts miserably before my eyes. "I heard you say once that I would choose someone I couldn't survive without." Gale blanches, clearly realising that I had overheard his conversation with Peeta all those months ago. "I have been 'surviving' my whole life, Gale. I could have survived easily without you or Peeta. But I don't just want to survive anymore. I want to live."

Gale drags his hand roughly across his face and sniffs back his tears. "So Peeta makes you feel alive."

I nod, fighting the small smile that plays on my lips. "We've been through so much together. We were both so broken after the war but we're starting to heal…together. He's good for me, Gale."

"Do you…do you think we'll ever be able to be friends again?" he asks weakly.

I sigh. "In time…maybe."

I know it's not the answer he's looking for but truthfully I can't say that I'll ever be able to look at him the same way. I only hope that time will heal this wound like it has begun to heal all the others.

I knew this day was coming but I had hoped it wouldn't arrive quite so quickly. Unfortunately with all the drama surrounding Gale, Peeta and me the week has flown by, bringing Memorial Day upon us somewhat suddenly. I haven't used my TV once since my return to 12 but this morning Cressida, Pollux, Gale and his crew all crowded around the projection screen in my living room as President Paylor made her address from the Capitol. The day has been structured precisely to allow enough time for each District to reveal their unique memorial statue and give their speech. The event is being televised throughout the whole of Panem. In District 12 a stage area has been constructed in front of the new Town Hall with large, flat television screens raised high for all to see. It seems rather reminiscent of the way the Hunger Games were shown, with families forced from their houses to watch the atrocities. And on a day like today, the day that used to be called Reaping Day, I don't think I can be blamed for feeling apprehensive. But Peeta reminds me that no one is being forced to watch today. The people have gathered in the public square by choice. The memorial monument was brought to the district earlier on in the week but has since been concealed by a large tarp nailed into the ground. All will be revealed this afternoon.

As promised, Plutarch hasn't sent in a prep team to primp and polish me and dress me in sequins. But as I stare into my wardrobe I suddenly wish I had just a little bit of help. All the clothes I own are years old and no longer fit my shape. Many are hand-me-downs from my mother. I'm still slim but my hips have widened in the last year and my bust has grown a fraction. I eye some of the clothes Cinna designed for the Victory Tour, touching the fabrics and swallowing the lump in my throat. God, I missed that man.

"The green one," a voice says from behind me. I whip around to look into a pair of blue eyes. Peeta smiles softly and reaches behind me into the wardrobe. He pulls out a mossy green dress on a hanger and holds it against me. "I remember thinking you looked beautiful in this."

The dress has a square neckline with cap sleeves. It's ruched and fitted under the bust with a row a silk buttons running all the way down to the waist. A silk sash ties in a neat bow at the side and the pleated skirt falls delicately to the knee. It was once of my favourite dresses on the tour, not just because of its colour. I didn't wear this dress for any public occasion. Cinna had made it just for me. I wore it one evening on the train while we were somewhere between District 2 and 3. Peeta blushed three shades of red when he saw how the ruching accentuated my small bust. Initially I felt self conscious but after I while I began to enjoy feeling pretty for a change.

Peeta kisses me quickly on the cheek and it draws me back from my memories. I smile and pull the dress from the hanger. He averts his eyes as I unbutton my blouse and kick off my trousers. I slip the dress over my head and glance at myself in the mirror. It fits perfectly. The empire shape allows the fabric to skim nicely over my hips. Peeta smooths his hands over them as if in agreement.

"See," he whispers in my ear. "You're beautiful."

I shudder as his breath tickles my neck. A familiar sensation stirs inside me but now is not the time act on it. I push Peeta away playfully and instruct him to get dressed. I have less than 2 hours before my speech. Cressida and Pollux have already made their way to the public square to film the crowds arriving and interview some of the locals. Hadley and Hanson went with them leaving Gale to put up Haymitch who decided to grace us with his presence late this morning. I twist my hair into my usual braid and drape it over my shoulder before heading downstairs. Haymitch whistles as I enter into the living room.

"Well look at you all dolled up," he drawls. "You know sweetheart, you don't look half bad when you're not dressed like a boy."

I could bite back but I decided to accept his backhanded compliment and move on. I catch Gale staring at me and he quickly looks down at the floor. Apparently Peeta isn't the only one who likes me in this dress. The TV is still on but the sound has been turned right down. The memorial in District 10 has just been revealed a speech is being delivered by someone I don't recognise. I had recognised some of the speakers throughout the day. Enobaria in District 2, Beetee in District 3, a very pregnant Annie in District 4 and surprisingly Johanna in District 7. I didn't realise she was back at home.

"I have something for you," Haymitch says, staggering to his feet. It was unreasonable for me to expect him to remain sober today. I feel like I could use a drink right now. Haymitch digs in his back pocket and holds out a small, black drawstring pouch. He stuffs it in my palm. The object I pull from the pouch feels familiar in my hand. It catches the sunlight and shines brilliantly. My Mockingjay pin. I thought it had been lost forever. I look questioningly at Haymitch. "How did you…?"

"It's not the original," he interrupts. "That disappeared sometime after you shot Coin. But I pulled in some favours and had this replica made for you."

I'm speechless for a moment. I never believed Haymitch to be capable of such thoughtfulness. Before I know what I'm doing I throw my arms around his waist and bury my face in his chest. The smell of alcohol makes me slightly heady. Haymitch stumbles a little but after a moment I feel him awkwardly pat my back.

"Don't get all emotional on me, sweetheart," he says, pushing me back. I wipe a few tears away with the back of my hand and look back at the pin nestled in my palm. Haymitch takes it from me and attaches it to my dress just below my left shoulder. "There," he says, holding me at arms length. "Ready for one more show?"

When Peeta is dressed, Gale escorts us all to a black vehicle just outside the gates of Victor's Village. It reminds me of the car Peeta and I rode in after our first reaping. It's upsetting that so many things about today remind me of that dreadful time. Gale drives us through town. We pass many families who are making their way to the public square on foot. I'm relieved to see children skipping and laughing and waving flags. A far cry from what this day could have been like if the war never happened. Gale pulls the car around the back of the Town Hall, away from the crowds. We're met by Hanson, Hadley and Cressida.

"District 11 has just finished their speech," she tells me. "So we have 10 minutes before the President will introduce you." She leads us to the right hand side of the building. I crane my neck and see the crowds gathered around the concealed monument. Cressida points to a short set of stairs in front of the building. "Those stairs lead up to the stage. Pollux and I will be right up front with the camera. Try not to look directly at us. Look out at the people and speak to them, not to us. Gale and the guys will be either side of the stage. Peeta, you can stand there too if you like."

I nod along with her instructions, clenching and unclenching my fists with nerves. Peeta touches my shoulder lightly. "You're going to do just fine," he says with a smile. I try to smile back but my I feel my lips quiver. I just want this to be over with.

Cressida leaves to take her place with Pollux while Hadley and Hanson move around to the left hand side of the stage. Peeta and Gale guide me to the bottom of the steps. The crowds fall silent as President Paylor appears on the large television screens.

"District 12 suffered much under the persecution of the Capitol," she says. Her voice commands attentions. "But from the rubble and the ashes, a strong people have risen to usher in a new age. The monument about to be unveiled will be introduced by a young lady you are all familiar with. Please welcome, Miss Katniss Everdeen."

The crowd erupts into cheers and applause that deafens me. I feel Gale push me gently towards the stairs and Peeta letting go of my hand. I look back at him anxiously but he smiles and claps and urges me on. My legs feel heavy as I make my way onto the stage. A single microphone stands in the centre. I notice Pollux and Cressida standing in front of the crowd and quickly remember not to look directly at them. I gulp when I see my face displayed on the television screens. I look as green as my dress. I do my best to smile. I look out at the crowd and relax slightly when I see a sea of smiling faces. The clapping has stopped but the noise still rings in my ears. I lean forward to the microphone.

"Hello," my voice, although amplified, still sounds small. I take a deep breath to steady my nerves and remember what I had planned to say. "My name is Katniss Everdeen. But I have been known by many other names. Tribute, Victor, Rebel, Assassin, Mockingjay. These titles have always set me apart from everyone else but they did not protect me from the cruelty of the Capitol or the hardships of war. I have suffered, just like you. But today, we celebrate the end of such suffering." I look over at the men standing by the covered monument. With a swift nod of my head they pull back the tarp to reveal the twelve steel pillars inscribed with the names of the fallen. They glint in the sunlight. The crowd cheers vehemently. "This monument represents many things," I continue. "It brings honour to those who fought bravely on our behalf; those who sacrificed themselves to safeguard our future. It will serve as a reminder to us and to the next generation and the one after that we will never again tolerate oppression, persecution or cruelty at the hands of a government or an individual." The crowd shout loudly in agreement. "Today we remember those who can no longer be with us. I remember my friends. I remember my sister." I kiss the three middle fingers on my left hand and hold them high. The crowd goes silent as each individual copies my salute. I gaze out at a field of extended arms and swallow back my tears. "Their deaths should not be in vain. We must vow to create a better Panem."

A stirring occurs in the middle of the crowd and from the corner of my eye I see Gale take two steps forward. As I wrap up my speech the people erupt in applause again. Cressida signals for me to stay put and smile so I comply but behind her a see the crowd break apart. A single individual steps forward, waving his fist furiously. The sun reflects off the object in his hand just moments before I recognise its shape. He fires the first shot into the air and people scream as they stampede away from the gunman. He stalks closer to the stage and my eyes widen in fright as he lowers to gun to aim at me. I'm an easy target standing alone on this stage. Even if I turned and ran I would probably still get hit. I'm frozen to the spot. My heart beat pounds in my ears. My last thought is of Peeta as I cross my arms in front of my face. I hear the gun fire and a force knocks all the wind out of me. I land painfully on my side as everything fades to black.

Ooooh a clifferhanger!

I look forward to hearing what you thought of this chapter. As a side project I plan to write a deleted scene to show what happened between Gale and Peeta in the kitchen. It won't be right away but stay tuned. :)

Please review guys. I love to hear your thoughts.