A/N: Wow, so close to 150 reviews! That's amazing. As I was writing this chapter, I realized it felt kind of like an ending. There's still going to be another one, though, and then the epilogue would be at some point further in the future. That's why I was asking for suggestions and ideas :) Please review if you like it xx. My schedule is pretty packed for the next two weeks but I'll update as soon as I can.
Two peacekeepers guided Emily to a chair at the end of a long conference table. They remained standing by her side even after she sat down, prepared to restrain her in case she tried to escape. Luckily for them, Emily wasn't planning on running away. Sure, she had resisted when they first grabbed her by the shoulders and dragged her into an unfamiliar car, but that was before they explained to her exactly where she was going.
Aside from the white-clad guards, she was the only one in the conference room. That would change soon. Ali and President Snow would be here any minute.
Her stomach twisted in knots at the thought of talking to the president. Alison's life was still at risk. The Hunger Games were supposed to end with the last cannon in the arena, but here they were, still in the midst of a dangerous game. One decision would decide both of their futures.
Emily knew she had to swallow back her fear and be as persuasive as possible. She hoped what she'd done so far would prove to be enough.
The streets of Panem were abuzz with the news that Alison was alive. No amount of editing or censorship could take back information that had already escaped into the public. They couldn't hurt Alison now, right? With so many people already in the know, killing her would only cause further chaos.
Emily could still barely wrap her head around the situation. Her whole world came crashing down when she heard that cannon in the arena. Since then, she'd spent every moment believing that the golden-haired girl was gone forever; the only place she existed was in somber memories and tortured, 2 AM thoughts.
Then the phone call came. For the thousandth time in the past month, everything changed.
Now she ached to see Alison again, to hold her and kiss her and shield her from danger forever. It was the only thing keeping her glued to the chair. She drummed her fingers against the edge of the table as she waited for the other girl to be escorted in.
Alison did come eventually, but not in the way Emily expected. She was hoisted over the shoulder of a peacekeeper, limp and unmoving. Panic spread through Emily and, for a split second, she feared the girl was already dead.
Even when Alison looked up and met Emily's gaze with exhausted blue eyes, proving she was very much alive, the brunette couldn't stop herself from jumping out of her chair. Peacekeepers pulled her back before she could even take a step.
"What did you do to her?" Emily demanded. The peacekeepers pushed on her shoulders, forcing her back into the chair.
Ali didn't look like that in the arena. She had injuries, yes, and they were still visible on her skin, but now she appeared to be hanging on by a thread. When the guards placed her in a chair on the opposite side of the oblong table, she could hardly sit up without toppling forward. She told Emily over the phone that she was fine. This wasn't fine. Not even close.
"Ali, what did they do?" Emily asked when no one answered her first question.
"They didn't do anything. It's the war hemlock. It's okay, Em," Ali said, averting her eyes. Her voice was weak and hoarse.
Emily stopped herself from voicing her disagreement. There was no point in arguing the definition of "okay" with Alison when all she really wanted to do was console her. She looked to the peacekeepers beside her. "Please let me go see her. At least for a minute."
Neither of them answered. Instead, they snapped to attention at the sound of doors opening.
Emily sat up straighter in her chair but did not dare to speak. The room was now filled with a hushed silence. She couldn't decide if the peacekeepers' sudden quiet was out of respect or fear for the man seating himself at the head of the table.
President Snow's piercing blue eyes observed Emily. The expression was mostly unreadable, though there was trace of emotion buried underneath. Disappointment, maybe? He stared until Emily was fidgeting in her seat, then looked over at Alison, all without saying a word. His eyes lingered on the blonde for much longer, and even with nothing being said, Emily could tell he blamed Ali for the situation they were in.
"Good evening, ladies," he said finally, after enough time had passed for everyone to become unnerved. "It seems we've found ourselves in a predicament. I think it would benefit us all to have an honest and open discussion."
Emily managed a feeble nod. Alison only stared back at him.
"I have some concerns with the current state of the Capitol. As you may have noticed, everything here is systematic and structured. Each year, there is a reaping, training, interviews, a Hunger Games, and a single victor," Snow said. Each word was clearly enunciated.
"So you see, there comes a risk when the system becomes unbalanced. We try to eliminate unpredictability. Unpredictability causes chaos. That's why the two of you are here. Everything was in order until a certain tribute sprung up from the grave, so to speak," he said, casting another glance at Alison.
His tone was not harsh, but his eyes still had a hard edge. The president wasn't a physically imposing man. He was aged and feeble-looking. It was surprising he could still be threatening.
"How was it 'coming back from the dead', Miss DiLaurentis?" he asked Alison, the corners of his full lips turning up into a snakelike smile.
"Tiring," Ali answered, her voice as cold and biting as the president's eyes.
"I would assume so. War hemlock has staggering side effects. It's difficult to move, isn't it? Every motion leaves you winded."
Emily watched as Alison looked down at her lap, a frustrated frown on her lips. Snow's words were more of a statement than a question. He already knew the answer.
For the first time since the meeting commenced, Emily found it in her to speak up. "Will she heal?" she asked, facing the president.
Snow's gaze switched back to her. The smile was still on his lips. "With physical therapy, she would regain motion, but surgery is required for a full recovery. War hemlock attacks the heart. I wouldn't be shocked if she had a few damaged valves."
"Are you going to give me a chance to heal?" Alison asked. She was putting on a brave face, but she looked shaken.
"We'll get to that," Snow told her. "First, I'm curious to find out just how much you know about the history of war hemlock. Unlike your companion, you seemed to be familiar with it in the arena."
"If I was familiar with the effects, do you think I would've done this to myself?" Alison shot back.
"Miss DiLaurentis, we agreed to be honest with each other," Snow reminded her. "We have footage of you telling Miss Fields about the poison."
"I don't know what answer you're trying to get from me," Ali said, keeping her expression stoic. "It's true that I knew about the poison. That's all I knew. I was trying to think of a plan, but I didn't expect any of this to happen. I didn't think I would live if I touched it."
Emily watched her carefully. Alison was still in the same tattered, bloodstained clothes she was wearing when she warned her about the flowers. She was speaking in the same guarded, impersonal way. At the time, Emily knew there was something more she was thinking, something stored in her head that she wasn't willing to share. The brunette doubted Alison was being honest with President Snow. Lying was her defense in difficult situations.
But there was no way Emily was going to challenge her. Not when the stakes were so high.
"What was your plan, then?" the president asked next. He smiled slightly again, as if expecting the girl to choke in her response.
"To let Emily win. To die so I wouldn't end up miserable like my brother," Ali told him. Her impassive look faltered, and, whether she intended it or not, it made her look more genuine.
Before Snow could challenge her with a follow-up question, Alison elaborated her story.
"Other people might be fooled, but I've seen firsthand how much Jason struggled. The flowers were a way out. I thought about it for hours and I still couldn't decide if I wanted to go through with it. When I saw the birds, I panicked. My first thought was to find Mona. I couldn't let Emily fight her on her own. I was terrified that something would happen to her."
Ali looked in Emily's direction and her eyes softened. Em still wasn't sure whether to trust her story, but something about her expression made her believe that at least this part was true.
"I grabbed some flowers because I didn't know what else to do," Ali continued. "I wasn't even sure whether to use them against Mona or to take myself out. I stuffed them in my boot, on the outside of my sock, so it wouldn't touch my skin. But I passed out anyway. That's all I remember. What I can say is that almost dying made me realize how much I would rather be alive."
It sounded reasonable. Emily kept her eyes on the girl across the table, searching for any sign of truth. Alison looked back, even as the president spoke again.
"I hope that's convincing enough for all of Panem to believe. It would be very dangerous for even a select few to believe your intentions were to cheat the system."
"That was never my intention," Alison responded sternly, not turning to look back at the political leader. "I already told you, I didn't expect to wake up after I blacked out."
Snow pressed a hand to his temple. "You did say, however, that there was an outbreak of war hemlock in district two. You must know the history."
Alison didn't respond. Emily didn't have a clue what to say, either. The whole conversation was based around a plant she knew next to nothing about. It was unsettling to be in the dark, utterly incapable of helping the situation.
The president cleared his throat and shifted in his chair. "During the rebellion, decades before you were born, war hemlock was genetically engineered by the Capitol. Much of the fighting took place in mountainous regions. Whoever claimed high ground had an immense advantage over those stuck in the valley. That's where the hemlock came in. Fields of seemingly harmless flowers were planted to completely cover the high ground. You can guess what happened when rebels walked through them."
"They never guessed something so delicate and beautiful could be so deadly," he said, unpinning a small white rose from his lapel and dusting his fingers over it. The smell was sickly sweet.
Tension clouded the room until he continued. "After a while, the flowers began to grow on their own in smaller patches, and it became clear that there were…defects. Some who came in contact with the hemlock lived to tell the story. As a war tactic, the plant became useless and obsolete."
"Then why were the flowers in the arena?" Alison asked.
"They shouldn't have been. It was a careless error on the part of a gamemaker. Mistakes on such a large scale are unforgivable. Don't fret, he's already been dealt with. Now give me a reason why you should be allowed to survive," he said, directing the command at the blonde.
"Because people know I'm alive. Killing me won't kill the chaos. It's gonna make it worse," Alison answered without skipping a beat. Snow nodded, but he was unconvinced.
Emily was worried he would disregard their pleas and make a decision to throw them back into the arena. She couldn't let that happen.
"Think about the districts," Emily cut in. That caught Snow's attention.
Emily's heart was pounding, but she tried to sound confident in her words. "A few years ago, district two was on the verge of an uprising. That's why my father transferred my family there. It's calmed down, but my dad said the political climate is still unstable there and in districts eight and eleven. If everything is as fragile as you make it seem, killing Alison is the wrong move to make, especially since she's from two. It's going to cause controversy, and controversy leads to rebellion. Even the Capitol citizens would challenge you hurting her. You don't want to lose your allegiances."
"Districts eight and eleven you say?" he asked, his forehead crinkling. He called for an assistant and whispered something in her ear. Emily could scarcely hear, but it sounded like he was asking for a report on the regions in question.
"This could be a great PR move if you play your cards right," Alison said before the assistant was even out of the room. "Everyone loves a happy ending. Think of all the interviews and sappy TV specials you could make if you just let me and Emily stick together."
The assistant paused by the door and motioned for Snow to follow her. "I'll be back momentarily to give you my decision," he announced. He placed his rose on the table before stepping out the door.
Once he was gone, Alison let out a heavy sigh of relief. "You're a genius," she told Emily.
Emily shrugged and stared down at the table. She wasn't feeling as confident as she would like. "I didn't do anything," she said. She hesitated a moment before adding, "I'm really scared."
"I know. So am I," Alison said, looking down again. "But I think that what you said helped."
They both fell into an uncomfortable silence. The distance between them was half the problem, but the peacekeepers standing nearby wouldn't allow either of them to move.
Emily tensed when Snow walked back in the room.
"Ladies, I think we can arrange a deal, as long as we operate under my conditions."
There was no way to describe or even understand the emotions that went through her at the sound of those words. Any condition he posed could be dealt with. Alison would live. She would be okay.
Em leaned forward and looked across the table at the blonde, whose mouth was hanging open slightly in a mix of shock and relief. She grinned despite herself upon meeting the other girl's eyes.
"Understand that this is an enormous pardon. You are to tell everyone how grateful you are for the Capitol's generosity, and you must sound genuine. Sarcasm will not be tolerated. From this point forward, the two of you are representatives of the Capitol. That requires you to follow through with any job we see fit to give you. For now, that job is to speak well of us in the districts," Snow said. He picked up the white rose from the table and pinned it back to his lapel.
"Also remember that any misstep means all deals are off. You'd be astounded how easy it is to arrange an accident. I won't have to worry about that, right?"
"Of course not," Alison answered, and Emily nodded along with her.
"Very well then," the president concluded with a stiff nod. "Get the girl to the hospital," he told the peacekeepers.
In an instant, they'd scooped up Alison from her chair. "Wait!" Emily called. She jumped out her seat again, unwilling to let Alison disappear again without so much as being able to hug her.
A hand stopped her from behind. Snow's voice was in her ear. When he spoke, his breath smelled of something sharp and metallic. "Time for your first job, Miss Fields. Why don't you inform the public of my honorable decision to spare your friend's life? You are good at spreading news, after all."
Unable to protest, Emily could only nod. She was guided to a different room, deeper into the building, with several cameras and a screen filled with text.
"After I introduce you, you'll read exactly what is written on the teleprompter. Don't change a word."
"Okay," Emily agreed, biting her lip. "What happens after I do this?"
"You go back to the hospital and finish recovering. You'll see Miss DiLaurentis soon enough."
After spending the better part of a week lying in a hospital bed, it was a nice change of pace to be able to walk around and change into something other than a drab hospital gown. Standing for too long was still tiring, but she was getting stronger every day.
The pain was a separate issue. Every few hours, a nurse would bring Alison morphling tablets and a cup of water. Ali would smile, wait until she was alone, and then proceed to hide the pills inside her pillowcase. She vowed a long time ago to never touch morphling. Dealing with the pain was a better option than becoming addicted. Jason was living proof of that.
Her brother was waiting on the other side of the door to escort her to the interview. Ali took another look at herself in the mirror, noting how much her body had changed in six days. It was almost as if she hadn't been in the Hunger Games at all. The only physical evidence of the arena left on her skin was a faded scar just below her collarbone.
A brighter scar stretched down the center of her chest in a long, vertical line. It was the nasty byproduct of surgery. At least it wouldn't be visible tonight. Her dress had a high neckline that covered her scars and stretched all the way down to her feet. The fabric was a midnight blue, close to black. Specks of white made to look like stars dotted the material, forming dozens of tiny constellations.
It was the night sky in a dress. Not the purple, starless sky of the Capitol, but the familiar wide expanse of space that covered district two each time the sun set.
Somehow it felt like home. It was a reminder that, even though she had no choice but to become a Capitol figurehead, she would always belong to the districts.
Alison ran a hand over her somewhat shorter hair- the styling team did what they could to salvage the matted mess it had become in the arena- and, deciding she was satisfied with how she looked, opened the door to meet Jason.
"Hey, you actually look somewhat decent," her big brother joked.
"Yeah, well you look awful, as usual," Alison said back with a grin. Jason was the only person she'd been allowed to see since arriving at the hospital. The first visit was the definition of awkward; Jason ended up leaving because seeing Alison felt too much like talking to a ghost.
Since then, things had shifted back to normal. Well, not normal. They'd never had a strong sibling bond of any sort. But this was good. She never expected the Hunger Games to bring the two of them together.
Of course, it wasn't the only relationship that had evolved from the Games.
The Capitol insisted on having her reunion with Emily televised live. Ali had seen her during their meeting with the president, but that hardly counted. They weren't allowed to be within ten feet of each other and there was no opportunity to say what really needed to be said.
The last time they were really together was on that last day in the arena. They'd woken up that morning in each other's arms…and then everything had fallen apart from there. Burning sap started falling from trees, forcing them to move. Then came more cannons. And flowers. And a faux-death.
Now Alison was eager to see her. She had a kind of jittery feeling that made it difficult to stand still.
"What do you think it's going to be like when we get home?" Jason asked, taking Alison away from her thoughts. They were getting close to the outdoor auditorium. A little further and they would be backstage.
"I've been thinking about that," Alison said. Truthfully, she'd been worried about facing her parents. She decided to save that conversation for later. "I don't even know where I'll be staying. I do get a separate house in Victor's Village, right?"
"I think so. I wonder if Mom and Dad will go with you."
"Probably only one of them will. You know how they are," Ali muttered. "And what about Emily? I didn't go through all this trouble to never be able to see her. They can't just ship her back to district four and call it a day."
"I don't think you have to worry about that," Jason said as they walked backstage.
Alison cocked her head to the side and looked at him questioningly. "Do you know something I don't?" She considered for a minute what cryptic response could mean. "Are they letting her move back to district two?" she asked, feeling stupid for how hopeful and excited she sounded. Her and Jason might be talking now, but that didn't mean she was ready to have slumber parties and talk about her feelings with him. It was still embarrassing.
"You'll see," he said vaguely. "I have to go. Good luck."
With that, he was gone, leaving Alison backstage. A crew of escorts immediately swooped in on her, tugging at her dress and doing last-minute touch-ups on her hair. Alison was feeling a little weak and sluggish already. The walk here required more physical energy than anything she'd done in days.
She wouldn't have to walk much more; all she has to do was cross the stage. And they let her wear flats, thank God.
A countdown started, just like before the pre-Game interviews. Once the numbers ran out, Alison stepped forward into the blinding white light of the stage.
It took her a while to see a thing. There was a singular moment of panic, a rush of nervousness to her head, because it reminded her of waking up on the hovercraft without her sense of sight. But it didn't take long for shapes to form before her eyes. There was a silhouette of a girl standing not far ahead of her.
Emily was wearing a gorgeous gown that pooled around her feet just as Alison's did, but she was not the night sky; she was a soft and alluring sunrise. The bottom of her dress was light in color. Pastel hues were embedded in it, resembling splashes of color in an early morning sky. As she got closer, Alison could see there were new brown highlights in her dark hair.
She was light, plain and simple. She was hope.
Suddenly, without either of them really realizing it, the distance between them closed. Ali felt lips cover her own and sturdy arms wrapped around her. It reminded her of when they reunited in the arena after she'd escaped from the careers, but this was better. The battle had been won, the worst was behind, and no one was going to take this away from them.
They didn't move from center stage even as Caesar Flickerman started the introductions. It was only when the host's comedic comments started sounding impatient that Emily reached for Ali's hand, interlocking their fingers, and led them to the white loveseat that had been set out for them.
The night was to start out with a two hour long recap of this year's Hunger Games, followed by at least another hour of answering questions. The two of them were under strict orders to act overly grateful to the Capitol. To praise and endorse the president to the point of flattery. Ali didn't love the idea of painting the ones who had thrown her to a fight to the death as heroes, but she would do what she had to in order to survive.
Above all, she needed to make sure no one would suspect or accuse her of cheating her way out the Games. Capitolites were probably too stupid to question it, but district two might remember that war hemlock wasn't always deadly. They might guess that the "zombie man" who lived in the district was the inspiration for her plan.
She tried to keep those thoughts away during the replay of the Games. Watching what was on screen wasn't a much better alternative, so she turned her attention to Emily whenever what was being broadcast was too troubling to watch. The "troubling" aspect ended up applying to the majority of the two hours.
Emily would look over at her, too, and squeeze her hand in support. They watched for a while when it showed the two of them setting up camp together. Then the fight that led up to Noel and Nate's deaths was replayed in full, without any cuts or edits. Emily started trembling beside her.
Ali put a hand on the other girl's cheek, turning her attention away from the screen. Em's eyes were unfocused at first. She was far away, reliving the moment, but she seemed to hear when Ali leaned over and whispered, "You don't have to watch this."
"I wish they'd quit reminding me," Emily whispered back. She leaned her head against Ali's shoulder and stayed there for the rest of the show. Alison saw what she'd missed in the last few hours of the arena, after they'd separated. She watched herself collapse from the hemlock and saw exactly how Mona became charred and disfigured.
After sitting through the movie for so long, the questions flew by in a blur. They talked about what a miracle it when Ali was revealed to be alive and how sweet it was that the first person she thought to call was Emily. Caesar asked what was going through Alison's head when she first saw the white flowers. She lied without hesitation. Faked tears when talking about how thankful she was to be granted a second chance. No sarcasm. She didn't have the nerve to challenge Snow.
They only time she almost slipped up and responded angrily was when Caesar started grilling Emily about Noel and Nate. The way he phrased it made it sound like they weren't only pleasantly surprised, but literally thrilled that she was able to kill them. Their enthusiasm made it so much worse.
Then they had to go and bring up the fact that Alison's parents didn't show up to say goodbye after the reaping. Ali gave short, choppy responses, unwilling to share her thoughts with the audience. She tried to chase the questions from her mind after they were asked.
The night as a whole was long, and exhausting, and painful to sit through, but they made it through. Eventually, the show ended.
Hordes of people cleared out in droves and started heading to a hall where the first of several victory banquets would be held. It was weird that the Capitolites were so eager to celebrate when they'd done absolutely nothing to earn it. They weren't the ones who endured the Games. In their privileged lives, they would never have to experience anything a fraction as horrific as what Ali and Emily had survived.
Ali wasn't in the mood for a banquet. All she wanted was rest and some time alone with the girl beside her.
"Are you going to the party?" Ali asked Emily as they walked off-stage hand-in-hand.
"I thought we had to go?" Emily said, her inflection turning it into a question. "Honestly, I would rather not. Big parties aren't really my thing."
"No one has to know if we skip," Ali said, smirking, and led Emily toward the entrance of the training center.
They walked into the hallway of the first floor, which was surprisingly filled with people passing through.
"I can't believe we made it. It's over," Emily said. Her brown eyes were watching the people as they cleared out the hallway.
"I know," Ali agreed, her eyes also on the people draining out of the building. "Jason said something about there being plans to let us see each other after we go home. I thought they were going to announce it at the interviews, but I guess they're saving that surprise for tomorrow."
"Really?" Emily asked, brown eyes darting over to Alison.
"Yep. You're going to be stuck with me for a long time, Emily Fields."
"You make it sound like it's a problem," the brunette laughed.
They both looked back at the people.
Finally, the last group stepped out the door. The second the hallway was empty, Alison dragged Emily over to a wall and crashed their lips together. Their bodies were flush against each other's and Alison still wanted Emily closer. She shivered as Emily ran a hand along her dress, but her body was warm, warm, warm.
It was the kind of feeling that was impossible not to get lost in. She planted a hand firmly on Emily's hip, feeling the curve of her body as the kisses grew in intensity. Soon the world around them swaying, fading out, and the only thing solid was the girl whose body was pressed impossibly close to hers, as if they had molded into one unit.
Ali surprised herself by moaning lightly into the kisses. They broke apart soon after, all uneven breathing and dazed eyes, and Alison's heart was beating uncomfortably fast, but the sensations flowing through her veins were so amazing that the ache in her chest couldn't bother her.
"Sometimes I still can't believe this is real. I can't believe I know you," Emily said, prompting another flutter in Alison's chest. She locked eyes with Emily as the girl leaned their foreheads together. "I love you," Em whispered before pressing another kiss to Alison's lips, this one soft and innocent.
It was only after the words were out that she seemed to realize she'd said them. "You don't have to say anything back. I just had to tell you. I-" Alison cut her off by placing a finger on her lips.
Ever since she'd almost told Emily the same thing over the phone when she was still on the hovercraft, Ali had been thinking about her feelings. She was worried she didn't actually know what love was. Part of her hoped Emily would say it first so she could explain to Ali exactly what she felt. So Alison could be sure.
Now she didn't need any confirmation. The answer was in the way she felt when she looked at Emily, when she thought about having a future with her. Somewhere along the way, she'd lost the fear of being vulnerable around Emily. She trusted this girl with her life.
"I love you, too," Ali said, her finger tracing patterns on Emily's lips. She felt Emily smile. "You're so beautiful, Em," the blonde added.
She loved seeing the blush that crept across Emily's cheeks. "So are you. You always are."
A few people were strolling through the hallway again. Maybe they had been for a while. Ali didn't notice and, even if she had, she probably wouldn't have cared.
"I think I'm going to head up to my room. The doctor said to take it easy for a few weeks and I'm really not supposed to stand or walk for extended periods of time," Ali told Emily. "I'd like it if you joined me."
"I'll be there," Emily answered. "I just need to head to my room first and change out of this dress."
"Okay. I'll see you soon, then," Ali smiled. She was secretly relieved. Sleeping alone since the arena had been hard. The prickling feeling that she was still in danger, vulnerable to be attacked the second she closed her eyes was awful, and the nightmares that followed were even worse. An arm around her would help. It did in the Hunger Games.
With Emily by her side, she couldn't be swallowed by darkness. Tonight she would be able to drift to sleep. When morning light came, they would both be okay.
