"Well now," Cesar begins. "Let's recap."
Dean and I turn to the large screen behind Cesar. Dean nestles me under one of his arms. I grasp his other hand and lay my head of his shoulder. The montage starts, showing footage from the arena while broadcasting my and Dean's reactions in a small square in the corner of the screen.
They start with Dean and me on our metal plates, his eyes telling me which bag to grab. They show the boy from Nine fighting me over the bag, and Dean saving me from Clove. They focus on me and Dean fleeing, and then show all of the deaths from the bloodbath, including Clove hiding, injured, inside the cornucopia.
They spend some time showing me sorting supplies and Dean setting up the campsite, and our argument over whether to stay or go. All of our conversations about demons have been conveniently edited out, and the cameras show me setting snares rather than Dean making the traps.
They show the inside of our tent. Hot blood floods my cheeks. I knew that the cameras had been there, but I still hate the idea of sharing my most intimate moments with all of Panem.
Dean shifts uncomfortably as he watches his past self talk about the girls in Twelve. The audience sighs when we finally relax into one another under the sleeping bag.
The footage cuts to our trek to the lake, and focuses on Dean figuring out the Careers' plan. They show my pathetic knife throw, and Dean's lifesaving spear action. I wince as I watch us get blasted back. They show Dean collecting the supplies, and yelling for me to run. I remember not being able to hear much, and it's obvious that my ears were damaged as I stumble after Dean.
They show me getting hit with the arrow, but focus more on Dean.
Dean thunders through the forest, glancing back toward me every few seconds. He stops short, quickly realizing that I'm not following him. His face turns pale as he drops the supplies and sprints back, brandishing the two throwing knives. He crashes into the clearing where the girl from Four looms over me.
"NO!" He roars, his face contorted, inhuman.
I gasp as he throws both knives in quick succession before leaping over me protectively. Pain and lack of hearing must have muddled my memory, because Dean's unbridled rage is something that I won't forget.
"You stay away from her," Dean snarls as he and Cato engage in combat.
As they fight, I notice something. It's quick, and barely visible, but for just a moment, Cato's eyes flash yellow. The spear finds Dean's abdomen a moment later.
I gasp audibly as the Katniss on the screen screams. The audience murmurs sympathetically.
I can barely watch as they show our trek back to the shelter. They linger on my desperation in the next day. My frantic search for plants, begging the sponsors for medicine, my intimate soul-baring with an unconscious Dean. They focus on the moment when I go back for the nightlock berries.
Dean tenses beside me as he watches me pocket the nightlock berries, but I keep my attention on the screen.
Tears well up in my eyes as they show Rue onscreen. I look away from the screen until well after her death, burying my face in Dean's shoulder as he rubs my arms comfortingly.
They claim lost footage for a lot of the rest of our time in the arena. They barely explain how Dean got medicine, and show only that we run from Cato in the rain, and Dean saving my life by pulling me into the tree.
They skip the cornucopia scene entirely, except for a brief moment of Dean smashing Glimmer's dilapidated skull, and claim that the footage is too gruesome.
They cut to me running from the cornucopia, and play the rest of the Games in real time, focusing on our declarations of love.
By the time Cesar turns to us, his eyes shine with restrained tears.
"Wow," he says. "Simply stunning. The shortest Games in history, at only five days long. And, of course, the only Games in history with two victors. Now, let's start there. Take us back to that moment, once the remaining tributes were dead. What exactly happened?"
"I hadn't realized that it was just us two left," Dean says. "Before I could say anything, she took off running."
"And what was going through your mind in that moment, Dean?"
"That she was about to do something stupid," Dean responds with a glare at me.
"Something like?" Cesar prompts.
"Something like kill herself so that I'd win," Dean says. "I was terrified. I thought I'd never see her again."
The crowd sighs. Cesar lays a hand dramatically over his heart.
"And he was right, wasn't he, Katniss?" Cesar asks.
"Yes," I say. "In that moment, I knew only one of us could come home. I didn't even think about it, I just knew what I had to do."
"And you'd planned this, yes?" Cesar asks. "You had the nightlock berries already."
I nod. Dean is glaring holes into the side of my head, but I stare pointedly at Cesar's tie.
"When did you know, Katniss?"
"In the tent," I whisper, "when I realized that I love him."
The crowd murmurs and groans empathetically.
"And when did you realize that you love her, Dean?"
"When she smacked me," Dean says.
The crowd and Cesar laugh in surprise. Even I find the courage to meet Dean's eyes, but there's no humor in them.
"She smacked me for saying that it would be better if I died," Dean says. "In that moment, I realized that she loved me. And that I love her right back. I was in and out of it in the tent, but I remember most of what she said. That's why it killed me when she ran from me. I knew that we loved each other."
"So Dean, what prompted you to take part in Katniss' noble suicide attempt?" Cesar asks.
"The thought of living without her," Dean replies roughly. "I've already lost my mom, my dad…I never got to say goodbye to my brother…Katniss was the last person I thought I'd ever see, that I loved. I couldn't bear the thought of losing her, too…of her leaving me, too."
Dean looks away from me. I stretch out a hand, and cup his chin, bringing him back. He is fighting down emotion, but I force him to look into my eyes. I kiss his lips tenderly.
"I could never leave you," I murmur. "I only did it to help you get back to Sam, because I love you."
Dean pulls me in close, wrapping both arms around me and tucking my head under his chin. The crowd lets out an audible "aww" as he presses his lips to the top of my head.
"So then, Dean," Cesar says, bringing us back to the interview, "you came up with the idea to both eat the nightlock berries. Walk us through that."
Dean stiffens. This is it, the moment that all of Panem watches with bated breath, the answer that seals our fates.
"I didn't want to play the Games," Dean whispers. "Because no matter what outcome, I realized I'd lose. And I'd lose so much more than just a game. No matter what the outcome, either way, I'd lose Katniss. And I couldn't bear to lose her."
Cesar nods sympathetically.
"Well, that certainly is moving," he says, wiping a small tear from the corner of his eye. "Well, ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to announce the victors of the Seventy-Fourth Hunger Games, Katniss Everdeen and Dean Winchester, the lovers on fire!"
The crowd bursts into wild cheering. President Snow joins us onstage, holding crowns for moth me and Dean. He turns his back to the crowd to crown us.
"Hello, victors," he murmurs, his eyes flashing blood red. "Quite a stir you've caused."
I blanch. The accent that colors Snow's voice is new and foreign. His eyes are clearly inhuman. Dean grasps my hand, and I know what he's thinking.
Demon.
"Well, we'll just have to clean up this mess during the victory tour," Snow continues, smiling as his eyes switch back to their normal, human blue. "See you then, victors."
Dean and I cling onto one another the entire way back to the train, fake smiles stamped on our faces. We don't dare speak a word until we're safely back in Twelve.
During the ride home, Dean and I occupy our time with Effie, who has taken it upon herself to begin scheduling the victory tour. Even though it's months from now, Effie already has outfit designs from Cinna and an itinerary outline of which districts we will visit in which order.
Our homecoming in Twelve is nearly a riot. Every resident of Twelve floods the streets, forcing Peacekeepers to make a path for us to walk through to the Square, which has been cordoned off. Inside the square, a small group of people await us.
"SAM!"
Dean shoots forward, pushing Peacekeepers out of his way as he sprints into the square. Sam meets him halfway, and the two brothers collide in a hard, emotional hug.
"Katniss!"
Prim's voice cuts through the crisp air across the square. She is running at me, her small eyes filled with tears.
"Prim," I whisper, before running to meet her.
I drop to my knees and cling to her. My mother rushes over to join our hug as Prim cries.
"I was so scared, Katniss," Prim sobs. "I was so afraid that you wouldn't come home!"
"I'm home," I say, holding both her and my mother. "I'm here now, I'm home."
I blink back tears, and look around the square to see a pair of dark green eyes, holding back emotion in their strong frame. I rise, detaching myself from my mother and Prim. I stride across the square, gathering speed as I get closer.
Gale scoops me up in a hug so tight that I fear I may feel my ribs crack. I don't care.
"Hi, Gale," I whisper.
"Good job, catnip," he murmurs back.
"I don't know how I made it," I say.
The banquet in Twelve is a blowout celebration, provided be the Capitol, like every year. My mother, Prim, Sam, and the Hawthorns all join me, Dean, Haymitch, and Effie at the victors' table. For just a moment, everyone is happy. Every single person in Twelve is full. My classmates congratulate me, my father's old friends clap me and Dean on the back. Even the baker's son, Peeta, who I've never spoken to before, approaches me.
"Congratulations, Katniss," Peeta says.
"Thanks. Peeta, right?"
"Yeah," Peeta says, his cheeks tinged with pink. "My whole family was rooting for you to win. I'm really glad you came home."
"Thank you," I say.
I'm not sure what else to say to the boy as he stares at me, so I mumble something about dessert and excuse myself. It takes me a while to shake a strange warmth from my stomach as Peeta's eyes linger on me.
Effie outdoes herself by unveiling her best surprise yet—hundreds of pies, more than enough for all of Twelve. And for the victors' table, a massive cherry pie, wider than my arm span, still steaming. Dean's jaw drops at the sight of it. Pure joy overtakes his face. We all indulge in several pieces of sweet, warm pie.
"Well, you finally got your pie," I say as Dean polishes off his fifth piece.
"Katniss," Dean says, turning to me with a smear of cherry juice on his bottom lip, "I have so much more than that. I have you."
I blush and smile as he puts an arm around me.
"And baby," he continues, his green eyes staring deep into mine, "you are my boots and pie."
I have no words to express my feelings for Dean. He kisses me, and I pour all of my emotions into the kiss. Everyone and everything else fades from the background.
Dean's lips move naturally in time with mine. He smells and tastes of cherry pie, the Hob, and the forest, but he feels like home. I feel as if I'm communicating with him through the kiss. I pour my energy, my emotions, my happiness, my fears, bits of my own soul into the kiss. Dean responds passionately, even tenderly at times. I draw back slightly and look into his eyes.
He looks back at me. The emotion in his eyes is not one I've ever seen before. Deep happiness mixes with peace and belonging as he stares at me like I am the only thing in the world that he wants to look at. I see the unspoken promise of forever shining in those dark green eyes.
I know because it's a reflection of my own feelings.
Dean and I move into our houses in the Victors' Village the next day. We decide to live in my house, and set my mother, Prim, and Sam up in Dean's house. Dean gives his old house to Gale, lightening the burden on Hazelle. We transform my mother's old house into the infirmary of Twelve.
The weeks following the end of the Games are surreal. Dean and I live in happiness. We hunt together, eat together, trade at the Hob together, even go for walks and swim in the streams in the forest together. Falling asleep next to Dean each night and waking up to his smile every morning brings steady warmth to my chest.
Desperation begins to fade from Twelve as extra rations pour in from the Capitol, a result of my and Dean's victory in The Games. It takes weeks, but Dean and I finally relax, our nightmares slowly beginning to subside. We eventually fall into a simple, blissful routine. We start to accept a new, steady way of life, a new normal.
I wake one night with a start. Dean sleeps fitfully next to me, but I am drenched in sticky sweat. Something is wrong. I can feel it in my bones.
"Dean," I say, shaking him. "Dean, wake up."
He wakes with a start.
"What? What is it?"
"Something's wrong," I say, "I can sense it."
"Yeah, me, too," he responds, scrambling out of bed.
We waste no time in getting dressed and running across the street to the house where my mother, Prim, and Sam live. We burst through the front door to find my mother pacing through the kitchen, ignoring Haymitch's low voice and Prim's anxious stares.
"…gotta be around somewhere," Haymitch is saying. "Let's just go look for him."
"What's wrong?" Dean demands.
"You feel it, too, Katniss?" Prim whispers. "Something's wrong."
I stride to where Prim sits and embrace her, holding tightly as I turn to Haymitch.
"What happened?"
"Where's Sam?" Dean asks.
"That's just it," my mother murmurs. "We don't know."
"What do you mean, you don't know?" Dean demands.
"Well, he's been going off at night lately," Haymitch says. "He won't let any of us go with him. He says it has to do with some secret information that we can't know, or 'they' will come find us, whoever 'they' are."
Dean and I exchange a knowing but terrified glance.
"He always takes that book, your father's journal," Haymitch continues. "He goes into town to meet with some others who apparently know."
"Who?" Dean demands again, angrily.
"We don't know—"
"Madge, the mayor's daughter," Prim interrupts. "Peeta, the baker's son. And all the Hawthorns."
"How do you know?" Haymitch asks, surprised.
"I followed him a few nights ago," Prim admits. "I had a bad feeling, like tonight but not as strong. I was scared for Sam."
"What did you see?" I ask gently.
"They gather behind the mayor's house after dark, in their gazebo," Prim says. "I saw a couple of Peacekeepers, Madge, Peeta, Hazelle, Vick, Posy, Rory, Gale, Delly Cartwright, and a few other people. I couldn't hear them, but they were all sitting in a circle, and Sam was talking to them with the journal open in front of him."
"What happened then, Prim?" Dean asks, softly this time.
"Another Peacekeeper caught me," Prim says. "He told me to get home or he'd whip me, so I left. Sam came home about an hour after me."
"Okay, let's go," Dean says.
"No, Katniss," my mother implores as I follow Dean to the door. "It's too dangerous."
I ignore her plea, but Haymitch and Prim stay with her. Dean and I jog through Twelve rather conspicuously, but eerily, there are no Peacekeepers are on the streets to question us.
We run into the gazebo and stop short. Thick blood pools around the soles of our boots. Dean switches on the light.
I fall to my knees beside Posy's dead body.
Hazelle, Posy, Vick, Rory, Madge, Delly Cartwright…all dead. Several Peacekeepers also lie dead next to them. Blood flows from under all of their heads.
"What happened here?" I ask, my voice grinding out in a strangled whisper.
"Where's Sam?" Dean asks.
I look around. Sam's body is nowhere to be found. On the far side of the gazebo, a pair of boots and long, thick legs stick out from the side entrance.
"Dean," I whisper, staring at them.
Dean follows my gaze.
"No," he whispers before running to the body. "Sam."
I walk numbly over to the body, intent on comforting Dean, but stop once I see the body. It isn't Sam who lies there, dead.
It's the baker's son, Peeta Mellark.
Deep pain pangs through my chest. I can't breathe. Dean rushes out, calling Sam's name so loud that neighbors start to wake up. I can't tear my eyes away from Peeta's—cold, lifeless, framed by a face still frozen in terror. I reach down and gently slide his eyes closed.
"Katniss!" Dean yells, suddenly by my side, grasping my arm painfully. "We have to leave."
"What?" I ask stupidly.
"Come on, we have to go," Dean presses urgently. "We have to find Sammy. People are starting to wake up. We can't be seen here."
I let him pull me to the door of the gazebo. Hot tears dry on my cheeks before I notice them falling.
"Damn it, we're covered in blood," Dean growls. "They'll find us, they'll follow the blood trail."
Deep inside me, my instincts agree with Dean, but I can't break through the layers of numbness to make a move.
"Katniss, come on," Dean insists, already stripping.
He helps me rip my clothes from my body. He forces me to be careful not to step in blood as we flee. He forces me to move quickly through the shadows of District Twelve, hugging the fence as we run home.
All I can think of is my boots, strewn beside Peeta's dead body, soaked in his blood.