Ahhh, so FINALLY, here is Chapter 13. I know it has been a VERY long time, and I apologize. But, I have had soooo much on my mind and have been writing other, (not Hunger Games related, sorry), stories that have been taking up my time. And, I must admit, I've been pretty forgetful and forgot WAY too many times to count, to finish this chapter and post it. So, for all the effort I put into it, (which wasn't as much as it should've been), I hope you enjoy!

So, I present to you...

CHAPTER 13.

A short review of Chapter 12: Katniss and Gale fall into some hole that opened up in the floor, just like Peeta, Finnick and Johanna did in Chapter 11. It switches to Peeta's POV and he walks around in the dark, after regaining conscoiusness from the fall, looking for someone. Anyone. He finds Katniss by some slim slice of a chance and they reunite, talk, blah blah... Then this last bit happens (the one in italics below here).

"Katniss, I'm fine. You know that you're far more important than I am. You are what is keeping the rebellion alive. You have to stay safe so that the Capitol can be overrun. You're they're only chance, and if they found out you had died… they'd be devastated. If you left them, if the Mockingjay was killed, they would lose all hope that they could survive, let alone win. They need you, Katniss." I reach up to her face and find a stray tear sliding down her cheek.

Chapter 13

Katniss' POV

Panem needs me, my people need me, and my loved ones need me. They can't possibly survive without me, so if I die, they all go down with me. The reminder that I have so many people's lives riding on my back doesn't comfort me; it pushes me past the point of anxiety and guilt, to anger and sadness.

Anger at myself, for not being able to do my job right, and protect all of these people, and anger at the Capitol, at Snow, for making this my job, for causing all of this to happen in the first place. Sadness because I wish that I was strong enough to overcome President Snow, to overcome the Capitol, and because I wish that I didn't have to do this, that I wasn't the Mockingjay, that my life was simple again, and I didn't have so many people depending on me.

But I know that's only a fantasy, that my life will never be the same again, and I have to deal with it. And I will deal with it, I will be strong for my people, I have to be, and I will make it through this.

As all of these emotions well up inside of me, I don't even realize when a stray tear slips free, and slides down my face, landing on Peeta's hand.

"Katniss…" he starts, his voice broken by sadness; he always hates it when I cry, when he knows I'm in pain. I step forward and bury my face in his neck, letting myself dissolve in his arms as I'm enveloped in warmth and love. "It's alright. I know it's hard, but we'll make it through, we'll find a way. We just have to be strong, and at least, now, we have each other."

I gather all of my sadness and anger and shove it to the back of my mind; so far back that I won't come across it again for a long while. Then I pull back from Peeta, stand up tall, and smile at him, knowing he can sense it even if he can't see it. "Thank you," I say quietly.

"Anything for you." I can almost see the shimmer of his smile through the darkness as memories of him drift before my eyes and mingle with the present.

My fingers search the air until they find his. "But we need to find a way out of here. We can't expect to be left alone for much longer."

"I'm surprised Snow has restrained from torturing us for this long."

I flinch at the word, blocking out images of Peeta, his face pale and thin, his body bruised and exhausted, after being tortured by Snow. He may have meant it as a joke, but I feel the full force of the impact, remembering him so close to death and in so much pain.

He notices this and squeezes my hand reassuringly. "It's alright; we'll get out of here. It just takes time." Though to anyone else it would sound like he's comforting me because I'm afraid that we won't escape this place, but I see the meaning behind his words; he knows why I am truly upset.

I dust off my shirt with my free hand, grip Peeta even tighter with the other, clear my throat and say, "I know. We'll be okay. I mean, we've already come this far, we can make it out of this… situation." I struggle with the last word, knowing that this 'situation' is our whole lives, and that we'll never truly escape it. "We just need to keep walking and hope to find a wall, or something."

So, on we go, slowly traveling through darkness, with our hands held in front of us to feel for objects, and our feet sliding across the floor, watching for the bodies, whether dead or alive, of our friends. Eventually, I lose track of how long and far we go, bathing in a comfortable silence, thinking of nothing but how perfectly our joined hands fit together, and that when our sides brush, a surprising current of pleasure darts up and down my spine.

After a while, I start to lose my energy, and ask Peeta if we can stop to rest. He agrees, though somewhat reluctantly, and my body breathes a sigh of relief with the knowledge that it won't have to go on much longer.

Peeta takes my hand, so that he knows where I am and doesn't accidentally sit on me, and we lower ourselves to the ground. I lay on my back to rest, stretching my arms and legs across the dirt, but something stops my left arm from extending as far as it would like to. I bolt upright and move to the left, not letting my hand lose contact with the object, and pulling Peeta to the side with me.

He groans in protest and says with a sigh, "What are you doing?"

"I think I found something. It's not a person, though. A wall maybe, I'm not sure yet. Come and feel it for yourself," I shoot back.

He immediately brightens when I tell him this, and moves over to my side. I guide his hand to the object and we run our fingers across it, examining it closely; silent and focused.

The surface is hard and smooth, but slightly warm to the touch. I slide my hand up about a foot or so and reach the end, and decide that it must be a thin-waisted rectangle judging by the fact that it has four sides, sharp angles and is small around the middle. I slide my hand back down to the bottom to find that it is fitted in a wide circular base of the same substance, and that is bolted to the ground.

"What do you think it is?" asks Peeta.

"I don't know. It feels like metal, but it's warm, which is strange. And it's an odd shape; a rectangular pole attached to a round foundation. I wonder if…" The last sentence is more to myself than Peeta. I grab hold of the pole with both hands and prepare to pull it, riding on the hunch that this, somehow, could be a lever of some kind that opens the door leading out of here. I mentally cross my fingers and, mustering all of the strength I can, lean backwards and wrench it towards me, falling back from the force.

The pole doesn't budge. Not in the slightest.

I sigh and sit up, using the pole to heave myself to my knees. Once I'm sitting up straight though, with my weight on the rod, it jerks down, forced deeper into the base by the pressure I'm putting on it.

"Peeta! Come here. The pole just slid down further into the base, and I think that –" I break off with a shriek, instantly releasing the pole and clutching my hand to my chest.

"What happened?" asks Peeta.

"I don't know. The pole suddenly became scorching hot; it might have even burned me. It must have something to do with the fact that I moved it."

"I wish I could help with the burn, but I can't really see you," he says sadly. "Hey, wait…look at that. The pole is glowing red. It must really be heating up."

I turn back towards the pole to find it's gotten so hot that it's actually shedding some light on this place, and as it gets brighter I start to make out the shape of Peeta's face in the reddish glow. His eyes widen as he sees me and he smiles in the breathtakingly beautiful way that only he can. I take my time just looking at him after being in the dark for so long, and I think he does the same, then I return his smile as he reaches forward to hug me. It's a quick one, with only a short kiss on the end, but it's filled with more meaning than even I would have expected.

I allow myself one last moment to savor that feeling before setting my mind back to making sense of this lever-like device.

"What could this mean?" I wonder aloud.

Beside me, Peeta's face shifts with concentration, as he looks at the different angles of the pole, but before long it lights up with a plan. He tears an already tattered piece of his shirt sleeve off, wraps it around his hand and reaches for the pole.

"No! What are you doing?" I yell, lunging for his hand. Who knows how hot it could be? If it burned me before it even started glowing, it would probably melt a hole right through the center of his hand at this brightness.

Ignoring my protest and dodging my hand, he swiftly slams the pole into the ground as far in as it can go, and yanks his hands away in one fluid movement. I rush to examine his hands, which must be practically nonexistent from making contact with such extreme heat, and find that there's not a scratch or burn in sight. They aren't even warm.

I gape at his perfectly unscathed skin in wonder. Just when I thought I might be figuring things out, this happens.

Then, I hear a soft click, and turn around just in time to see the space before me burst into a cloud of fire and smoke before the blast sends me flying.

Phew. Glad that's over. That took too long to write and post, so I hope the next chapter isn't so... I don't know, stressful? Hard to write? Annoying (to me at least)?

So, as always, and I probably say this every time, REVIEW! And please, please be honest. I want to know what you really think of it. Was it too depressing? Too boring? Too short? Too unevenful? Anything you can think of, and please be honest.