The Mockingjay and Her Flock


Drew:

I woke up screaming, panting, and in a cold sweat. I was crying about the Games, about the fear that I would be killed. That the Capitol would kill my family. That they'd hurt Skye and her baby. That…they'd kill Oaklea.

Suddenly, I was gently pulled down to rest my head on something, or on someone.

"Shh, it's okay," someone whispered into my ear as they began to stroke my hair.

"Oaklea," I cried into his chest, and he kissed the top of my head.

"It'll all be alright, Drew. I'm here. You don't have to worry. You don't have to be the Strong One anymore," he whispered comfortingly and continued to stroke my hair.

"The Games," I whispered, not able to put the awful things I had seen in the dream into words.

The pain. The torture. The utter awfulness about it.

"I know, I know. But we're not in the Arena anymore, Drew," he lifted my head to meet his, and he leaned in to kiss me.

I moaned from the effort of forcing my eyes open.

I sat up when I saw what surrounded me, and it made me so dizzy that I fell back to the bed.

The walls were white, an unbearably bright white. And there were these machines, these beeping machines beside me. There was a needle in my arm, taped to stay there, and I felt so groggy.

I forced my head back to the Pharmacy back home.

To my dad and the things he had taught me.

What was this beepy thing called?

I don't care.

What about the needle?

I-IV?

Yeah, that's it. IV. It can give you medicine. That must be why I'm so groggy.

I pulled out the needle and stuck it in the mattress before the machine could start its alarm.

With each passing moment, my thoughts became clearer.

"Okay, so where am I?"

I stopped trying to sit up to focus all of my energy on my memories.

Slowly they came back to me.

That morning. I went to work at my dad's shop. I went upstairs, and Annalisa put me in that dress she had taught me to make, with the floral bottom.

The Reaping. Robin was called. I cried. I got called. Then he told me that we had to win.

Coming to the Capitol.

The Chariots.

Training.

The interviews.

Sitting on the rooftop with Oaklea.

Oaklea…

Oaklea!

I sat up to look around, but the bed across from me was empty, with the sheets messed up like someone had just gotten out of it.

I pulled myself to sit up and rested my head on a pillow behind me.

Think, Drew, think!

Saying goodbye to Peeta and Katniss. Getting on the hovercraft to go to the Arena. Getting the tracker. Realizing I trusted Oaklea. Cinna wishing me good luck. Getting on the plate. Going…going into the Arena.

I suddenly got dizzy and had to lean on the wall behind me.

After I could see straight, I forced myself to remember the rest of that day.

The rebellion.

Instantly, fear coursed through me.

I opened my eyes and looked around.

There was no one there, no Avox or Peacekeepers.

The pain I felt was dull, unlike how the Capitol would keep me in constant, excruciating pain for what I had done.

Undoubtedly, I'd be the one to get the worst of it. I was the one who had taken away their victory. I was the one who had made it all about the Rebellion, showing that the Rebellion won the entire battle instead of giving the Capitol something.

And there were no emblems for the Capitol, which had been in all of the Capitol hospitals I had been in.

…Maybe I wasn't being held by the Capitol.

But where else could I be?

I summed up all of my strength, not that I had much, and I swung my legs over the side of my bed. I dug my nails, which I noticed were still the black that my Prep Team had painted, into the mattress and began to pull myself to the edge.

I wiggled my toes, and, seeing as I could do so, I pushed myself off the mattress and onto my feet.

I collapsed to a worthless heap on the floor, and I stayed like that for a long time.

Finally, I pulled myself to straighten my spine and crawled to the door. Seeing as no one had come to stop me yet, I guessed that I wasn't in danger of the Capitol punishing me for trying to leave.

I reached to the doorknob and pulled myself up, moaning as I did so. My legs seemed to have come back to life, so I was able to stand when I tried to walk this time.

There was a white robe, though I don't know why, but I was quick to wrap it around the thin hospital gown.

It required more effort than I knew to open the door and start walking through the pure white hallway.

I was alone again, and I couldn't tell where I was.

Was it the Capitol?

Or was it some different third-party?

I kept going and noticed numbers on doors.

11.

9.

5.

What are these for?

Then I heard a crash come from door "1"

I ran there, or what sort of a run I could manage, and I forced the door open. And there he was.

They-whoever they were- had him dressed in pants and a button-up shirt, which must have been a lot of work.

But he still looked awful.

His hair was a mess, and his skin was a sickly pale instead of its usual tan, almost making him look green. He had lost a lot of weight, mostly muscle, and he had slight stubble on his square jaw. And he seemed to have the same about of strength I had, if not less.

"Oaklea!" I rushed to the floor, where he had fallen like I had before.

I ran my hand through his hair and quickly asked him questions about if he could move his hands or stuff like that, never giving him any time to respond.

"Drew," he smiled as though I was just as beautiful I had been in the interviews.

I suddenly wondered how I looked if he, who always looked like a god,looked sickly and pale.

"Can you stand?" I asked as I continued to run my hand through his messy black hair, and Oaklea tried to move his legs.

"Yeah, I think so. Can you help me up?" he asked as one hand gripped the side of his bed, and the other gripped my hands. I helped him up, and let him lean on me as he tried to walk. It didn't take long until he could walk, which was faster than it had taken me.

"Where are we?" I asked, hoping that Oaklea remembered more than I did, but he just shook his head.

"I don't know," he told me as he blinked his eyes repeatedly, as if trying to block out the bright light.

"Are you sure you're okay?" I asked, wanting to help him back to his bed so that he could sit down, but he just nodded.

"I'm fine, Drew. Just trying to figure it out," he smiled weakly at me, and I finally couldn't help it.

I got up on my tippy toes, since he was still taller than me, and I kissed his thick lips for less than a millisecond.

"Oh, no," he shook his head, "We just started a rebellion and are probably about to die. We deserve a real kiss, not whatever that was."

He leaned down to kiss me and did just as he said he would, he gave me a real kiss.

I suddenly felt dizzy for more than the IV and almost fell to the ground, but Oaklea wrapped his arms around my waist to stop me from falling.

And the kiss never really ended. It just kept going and going until we heard someone in the hall.

Before we could get to the door, it swung open, and I let the fear set as I realized that, other than my sharp fingernails and punches, I was defenseless. And none of that would hold against a Peacekeeper.

"Found her."

Haymitch.

What was Haymitch doing here?

Within seconds, I saw Peeta come out from the hall and into the room with Katniss. I was about to go and hug Peeta and ask him where the heck we were, but then someone else came from the hallway.

"Oaklea!"

Skye.

And Robin was right behind her.

It took us maybe two seconds before the entire Dream Team was caught up in a tight, almost un-breathable, group hug.

We all began to talk at the same time, all asking if the other was okay or about how scared we had been. But, finally, we broke the group when it became too hard to breathe.

As I looked at Skye, I could tell how much time had passed since the Arena.

A month, maybe more.

By now, it was clear that she was pregnant. And, I could tell by the way that she kept holding her stomach that the baby kept kicking her.

"Where are we?" I was finally the one to ask the all-important question.

Haymitch smiled as he looked between Katniss and Peeta.

"We're going to District Thirteen."

One Month Later:

I waited for this all to be done, for the make-up to finally be put away.

When we got to District Thirteen, Katniss became a Mockingjay with Peeta by her side.

And I found out that all twenty-three of my fellow Hunger Game Tributes had been saved as well since the Gamemaker was a Rebel.

And we were all being used for our Districts.

We each had photo shoots. One picture of us by ourselves. Then a picture with your fellow tribute. Then we had the Flock Picture.

They had added two more for me, since I was the most remembered from the 75th annual Hunger Games, though I had only been in the Arena for less than an hour. I already had taken the one with Oaklea, and I was still waiting to take my picture with the Dream Team. Katniss was our lead Mockingjay, of course. So, she and Peeta were the highest. Then there was me and Oaklea. Then Skye and Robin, and it went down in ranks from there.

I was surprised by how many people they had talked into helping out the few Prep Team members that had been saved. Cinna had survived, along with two Prep Teams. But seven people couldn't take care of Twenty-Six. So, Cinna was the highest up, making sure everyone was doing it right. And the Prep Teams taught others how to do their jobs.

I don't think I've seen Octavia smile so much as she has now, being in charge and everything.

While someone continued to try to hide my scar on my arm, from how much trouble they had trying to get my tracker out, I looked back to the proofs I had been given.

The one of me by myself was on top. Cinna had saved my Interview dress and turned it into a sign of a resistance. He singed it, burning off some of the bottom and leaving a slash in the side, where they made it look like I was bleeding. They covered me in dust and blood, and they let hair fly out of the perfect hair-do it had earlier been in. I was holding a sword in my hand, poised to bring it up and decapitate someone. Then they had me look at the camera with the look of determination that the Capitol had once loved me for.

The one with Robin, which was underneath that was similar. They tore up his tuxedo and left him with more grime than me. They left the burn on his face, which he had gotten by accident two weeks ago, to make it look like it was a battle scar. I stood beside him, looking the same as I had in the earlier picture, and it was clear that we wanted vengeance on the Capitol.

Then there was the one with me and Oaklea, which was the last. I wore an outfit that was similar to the training outfits that used to be mandatory. There was a black polo, with the emblem of a Mockingjay in gold printed on the upper right. My black leggings were tucked into my black leather combat boots, which were smudged with mud. They had a fan to make my hair blow in the wind. There was dirt and blood all over my face, as with Oaklea. Oaklea wore the same as I did. And they had it so that we were looking directly into each other's eyes, which was completely different from all of the other pictures that had been taken.

It was supposed to be sent to District Twelve tomorrow, with captions that we had all agreed on.

I'm not dead yet, for the picture of me alone and me with Robin.

The 75th Hunger Games.

The Last Hunger Games, for me and Oaklea.

I tried to think of how they would react. Who would fight and who wouldn't.

My family and Robin's and quickly been taken out before the Capitol could get to them. And any friends that I had helped them out and were here, too.

"It's time!" someone yelled out to us, and my Prep Team quickly let me go, telling me to just stand where no one would see the scar that was so repulsive.

I went up to the screen, where my other tributes met me.

Someone, whose name I can't pronounce, quickly moved us around. He put a lot of us in order by our districts, making sure to still hold the flock formation, but he broke that for the Dream Team.

With Peeta and Katniss infront, we were all spread around them. But, right behind them, Skye stood, holding Robin's hand. She wasn't very big to be as far along as she was with her pregnancy, but they still had to work around that bump when they dressed her. They made it so that, unless you were really looking for the Baby Bump, it wouldn't catch your attention.

On the other side, they had me and Oaklea. We were all holding hands, except for Katniss and Peeta, but they had made sure that you could specifically tell that we were holding hands.

"Fake blood?" Oaklea whispered in my ear.

Last week, during practice, the prep teams had run out of make-up and made one girl from District Four bleed.

I nodded, smiling to myself.

"This the last one, right?" Oaklea asked.

"For everyone but Skye. They're still trying to find the right angle to hide the baby."

Skye undoubtedly had the hardest time in these shoots. Aside from the fact that they were trying to hide the fact that she's pregnant, they're also trying to make them the same as they were in the Interviews but with a twist of Rebellion. It was easy for me and Oaklea, who had that feel anyway, but, for Skye, it was almost impossible. She had already been to three photo shoots. First they soiled her Interview dress with mud and fake blood, but it had made it too obvious she was pregnant. Then they made a dark black dress that hid her body but made her seem too dark to be the Skye Wells everyone had seen. And it had continued on from there.

"Speaking of Skye, are you all packed up to move in?"

The living arrangements had quickly gotten confusing.

I was supposed to live with my family. But the maximum the room could hold was four, and no one had anticipated that my brother was engaged and brought her along. Luckily, Robin's large family hadn't made room for him either, and we got our three bedroom suite together.

Oaklea had lived with his family, and he couldn't stop talking about how great it was to have his parents together again, which was great. But, with Skye's progressing pregnancy, it was becoming clear that Skye needed room for the baby and help with it, too. So, it was decided that Oaklea move out.

And, who of course immediately offered to have him move in?

My dad wasn't too happy with the idea of me moving in with my boyfriend when I was sixteen, but I reminded him that Robin was like a protective brother. So, absolutely nothing would happen.

And, once I had said it, I realized it was true.

"Dropped it off before I came. And we both have tomorrow off so that you can help me move in," Oaklea nudged me.

Before I could reply, the photographer told us all to hush down.

"Look," the photographer trailed off as he tried to find the right word, "Rebel…y."

"Rebely?" Oaklea whispered in my ear, making me snicker, but I quickly pulled myself together and did as I had been told, letting my hatred for the Capitol show.

"To the Mockingbird and Her Flock!" the photographer yelled as he snapped photo after photo.

"No one will cheer in the Capitol when they see this," Oaklea whispered.

"But you might have to admit that you're wrong. Someone will cry in the Capitol for the Hunger Games."

"It'll be the only time that I'll do so, My Strong One."

"I love you Oaklea. You're crazy, but I love you," I laughed quitely to Oaklea so that the rest still wouldn't hear me.

"I'll take that as you finally telling me you love me," he squeezed my hand.


The End.


Sequel will be posted soon.