A/N- We're down to the last two chapters of this story, so I'm going to try to finish them quick because I'm going to start working on some new stories after this. I know I've been slacking on my updating lately, but that's fairly typical of me, haha. Just know that in a week or two you will be spammed with new stories that I will dedicate to some challenges. Enjoy!

Chapter 14: The Reunion

Cressida ended up leading us to a strange furry underwear shop run by a feline-looking woman named Tigris. She was by far the oddest, most surgically-altered person I'd ever seen, but she seemed nice enough, as she agreed to help us when Cressida mentioned that she was one of Plutarch's allies. It turned out that this Tigris person had a hideout at the back of one of the walls, and we crawled into the space and descended the stone steps. Once we were all inside the cellar, Tigris closed the panel behind her and left us hidden in the confined space stored with old pelts.

Gale had been bleeding from a neck wound, and as Cressida and Pollux made beds from the furs, Katniss stitched him up as best as she could, and once he was out, she came to me. She took my handcuffed wrists gently in her cool hands and rinsed away the blood, bandaging them afterwards. I had insisted earlier to keep the cuffs on when she offered to remove them for me, because the pain kept me focused. Watching Katniss acting as a healer brought back memories of her in a cave, tending to my now missing leg. "You've got to keep them clean, because otherwise the infection could spread and—"

"I know what blood poisoning is, Katniss," I rolled my eyes, feeling an odd sense of déjà vu. "Even if my mother isn't a healer."

She seemed taken aback by this, "You said the same thing to me in the first Hunger Games. Real or not real?" she asked.

"Real," I confirmed. "And you risked your life getting the medicine that saved me?" I asked, remembering more now.

"Real," she shrugged casually. "You were the reason I was alive to do it."

"Was I?" I was thrown off by her comment, unsure of what she meant. Was she saying that I had saved her, and if so, how? When? But as I struggled to remember, another memory jolted me, and this one was shiny and violent. I saw Katniss throwing a tracker jacker nest at my head, her evil grin revealing all of her pointy, bloody fangs as I ran away from her, terrified. I had joined the Careers to help her, and this is how she had tried to repay me, that murderous mutt—

NO! I began to shake as I fought off the memory, my wrists straining against the handcuffs as they struggled to stay away from her neck. Not real, not real, not real, I chanted in my head, using the mantra to shove away the false images. Once the shiny memory was gone, all of the energy was drained from my body, and just like that, I was back. I felt like I had fought a thousand battles and yet lost them all. "I'm so tired, Katniss," I whimpered, swallowing back the knot that was building up in my throat.

"Go to sleep," she told me, but I refused to listen until she shackled me to one of the stair supports, with my arms restrained painfully above my head. It was awfully uncomfortable, but it was better this way. I didn't want to hurt her with the monster I was not. If I couldn't be of any help—which I wasn't, obviously—then I could at least not be another obstacle. It was all I could offer, and for once I just wanted to get something right, goddamn it. Everything hurt so fucking much, the concrete stairs digging in my spine, the blood trickling from my wrists, the numbness building in my arms from being held up. But it was nothing compared to what I had to endure when I was under the torturing of the Capitol. No, this was heaven compared to that, and I was grateful for it. But the war that raged on inside me had worn down my soul until there was hardly anything left to hold on to. I was so tired. I wanted to sleep forever and never wake up.

So I drifted off and tried.

When everyone awoke, Katniss confessed to us that she had lied about the mission and jeopardized all of our lives in the process, saying that Coin hadn't really sent her to kill Snow, but that that had been her plan all along. We stared at her for a few seconds, trying to figure out the point of her confession, until it became clear that she had actually felt guilty about something that had always been so blatantly obvious, and that everyone already knew. She had no idea, the effect that she had.

Gale and Cressida instantly started trying to convince her that everyone had been well aware of what they had gotten themselves into, and that the mission hadn't been a complete failure. Plutarch was pleased and the Capitol's defenses had been broken. But Katniss was still not convinced that everything wasn't her fault. "What do you think, Peeta?" she suddenly asked me.

"I think…you still have no idea. The effect you can have." I said as I slid my cuffs up and pulled myself upright. "None of the people we lost were idiots. They knew what they were doing. They followed you because they believed you really could kill Snow." And I believe it too.

Katniss nodded and took out a map as she began planning. My voice seemed to have reached her ears when no one else's voice could, and I wasn't sure what to make of that, but it made me feel warm inside. I held back a smile. Maybe I was getting ahead of myself, thinking that she trusted me, but still. I realized then that I could still hope.

"What we need is to get him out in the open," Gale said, referring to Snow. "Then one of us could pick him off."

"Does he ever appear in public anymore?" I asked. I highly doubted that Snow would be that careless. If anything, he was probably more heavily guarded now than ever. His government was falling apart right before his very eyes. He must be terrified. The thought appeased me.

"I don't think so," Cressida replied. "At least in all the recent speeches I've seen, he's been in the mansion. Even before the rebels got here. I imagine he became more vigilant after Finnick aired his crimes."

"I bet he'd come out for me," Katniss said. "If I were captured. He'd want that as public as possible. He'd want my execution on his front steps." She paused as she let this sink in. Of course Katniss would come up with such a plan. "Then Gale could shoot him from the audience."

This was insane. "No," I shook my head. "There are too many alternative endings to that plan. Snow might decide to keep you and torture information out of you. Or have you executed publicly without being present. Or kill you inside the mansion and display your body out front." The possibilities were endless, and there was no way I was going to agree to this plan.

"Gale?" she asked.

"It seems like an extreme solution to jump to immediately. Maybe if all else fails. Let's keep thinking," he suggested.

We sat there in silence until Tigris called us up to eat, her gravelly voice reaching our ears for the first time. She even sounded like a cat; I could've sworn I'd heard her purr. We ate moldy cheese since Tigris obviously only ate raw meat, and we watched the news coverage of how dangerous we were. Katniss seemed pleased that no one knew about our hideout yet. In the end, we decided that we could no longer stay together as a group and we must try to infiltrate the mansion before Katniss gave herself up. I shuddered at the thought.

Katniss changed our bandages and then handcuffed me back to the stair support for the night. Gale came to me after a while to offer me some water while everyone else was sleep. My throat had been dry and sore, and I was grateful for the offer. "Thanks for the water," I said.

"No problem," he replied. "I wake up ten times a night anyway."

"To make sure Katniss is still here?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Something like that," he admitted bashfully, and I wondered if he still loved her. Well, of course he did, but did I? Did it even matter what either of us felt about her? I thought back to what Tigris had said about her during dinner. Katniss had joked that Coin probably had no idea what to do with her now that she knew that she was still alive, and Tigris had pointed out that no one ever really knew what to do with her. She'd been right.

"That was funny, what Tigris said. About no one knowing what to do with her," I told Gale, grinning.

"Well, we never have," he snorted.

We laughed at this as if we were old friends sharing an inside joke. It actually made it even funnier. Gale and I had never exactly been friends, but then again, we hadn't exactly ever been enemies, either. We had Katniss in common. The only difference was that he probably had a chance with her, and I had fooled myself into thinking that I had one too. "She loves you, you know," I said, looking at him. "She as good as told me after they whipped you." I remembered that because it hadn't been replaced by one of the shiny memories, and it was one of my most painful moments. I remembered it as clearly as the words my mother had spat at me as a child and the way she had raised her hand at me to slap me, but this one was even more painful. This one had stabbed at my heart.

"Don't believe it," he said. "The way she kissed you in the Quarter Quell...well, she never kissed me like that," he pointed out, as if we were competing on who suffered more because of Katniss.

"It was just part of the show," I assured him, though I was no longer sure about this. There were too many vivid, intense moments between us that had seemed real. I almost burned at the memory.

"No, you won her over," he argued. "Gave up everything for her. Maybe that's the only way to convince her you love her," he added thoughtfully. I considered this. If that was what it took, then I hoped I had convinced her, because I was no longer sure of it myself. I had lost everything, even my memories, for her love. And for what? I had nothing left to give her now. "I should have volunteered to take your place in the first Games. Protected her then," Gale said after a while.

"You couldn't," I pointed out. "She'd never have forgiven you. You had to take care of her family. They matter more to her than her life." Perhaps it was Katniss's selflessness that had drawn me to her.

"Well it won't be an issue much longer. I think it's unlikely all three of us will be alive at the end of the war. And if we are, I guess it's Katniss's problem. Who to choose," he yawned. "We should get some sleep."

"Yeah," I said as I settled down. "I wonder how she'll make up her mind."

"Oh, that I do know," he said, his voice muffled by the fur coats he had buried himself under. "Katniss will choose whoever she thinks she can't survive without." And with that, he dozed off.

I frowned. Well, way to drop a bomb, Gale. Now I was the one who couldn't sleep. Did this mean that he was sure that Katniss wouldn't choose based on whom she loved the most? Sure, Katniss's entire life had been based on survival, but well, that wasn't her fault. And if it was really about survival, then Gale was by far the best candidate; he was her hunting partner, after all. I had never been anything special before I was hijacked. I wasn't a hero, a hunter, or a victor. I was only alive because of Katniss. Back then, I was only a man in love. Now I wasn't even that. Now I was broken, my memories tattered and shattered, my love corrupted by the torture I was put through. I was unstable and useless. I was a horrible monster and a threat for loving a girl one second and trying to kill her in the next. No, she didn't need me to survive, but then again, she never needed anybody. She had made that very clear all along.

As always, she was better off without me and my burdens.

"People have gone wild," Cressida murmured as we watched some news coverage of a guy with bleached blonde hair getting beaten up for supposedly looking like me. He looked nothing like me, actually.

Gale and Katniss decided that I needed to stay away from the rest of the group for everyone else's safety, and I agreed. I was unpredictable and it wasn't like I could be of any use. But I couldn't just stay in Tigris's cellar either, because she would need to house guests soon, considering the amount of refugees outside. "I'll just go out on my own," I announced.

"To do what?" Cressida asked.

"I'm not sure exactly," I admitted. The one thing that I might still be useful at is causing a diversion. You saw what happened to that man who looked like me."

"What if you…lose control?" Katniss asked worriedly.

"You mean…go mutt? Well, if I feel that coming on, I'll try to get back here," I assured her.

"And if Snow gets you again?" Gale asked. "You don't even have a gun."

"I'll just have to take my chances. Like the rest of you." I said as Gale and I shared a look. He then sighed and reached into his breast pocket, placing a nightlock pill on my open palm. "What about you?" I asked him.

"Don't worry. Beetee showed me how to detonate my explosive arrows by hand. If that fails, I've got my knife. And I'll have Katniss," he smiled. "She won't give them the satisfaction of taking me alive."

Of course, she and Gale had each other, and as always, I had no one. "Take it, Peeta," Katniss insisted as she closed my fingers around the tablet, her voice strained, her eyes filled with pain and worry. "No one will be there to help you." As if I needed reminding. It suddenly dawned upon me that this was my way out. I could finally take my own my life and sleep forever, like I wanted to. But the nightlock pill terrified me, and I scorned my instinct to survive despite my lack of will to live. I remembered holding the nightlock berries in the first Hunger Games, and my fear of dying even when I was sure that I wanted to sacrifice myself for her. How many times would I approach the threat of death before it finally took me?

We slept fitfully that night, and I struggled with gory, morbid, nightmares during most of it. When morning finally came around, we ate the rest of our cans and left one of salmon for Tigris, whose features turned into what I supposed was a smile. She then instantly began to remake our outfits, giving us wigs and makeup, redressing us in cloaks and coats, giving us furry slippers and handbags to carry so that we resembled refugees. We looked fabulous. "Never underestimate the power of a brilliant stylist," I said cheerfully as I modeled in front of a mirror. Tigris seemed to blush at the compliment, and I grinned.

We split up into three groups: Cressida and Pollux leading as guides, Gale and Katniss following the refugees assigned to the mansion, and I trailing behind in case anything wrong and they needed a distraction. "Take care," Cressida said as Tigris unbolted door and she left with Pollux.

Katniss unlocked my handcuffs, stuffing the key back in her pocket as I rubbed and flexed my sore wrists. It was a relief to be free of them, and yet a curse. Now I needed to keep myself in check without their help. I swallowed, remembering the nightlock pill tucked into my pocket. "Listen," Katniss began, "Don't do anything foolish." She had echoed my words from the Quarter Quell, before we became separated and I became a prisoner.

"No. It's last-resort stuff. Completely." I said.

To my surprise, she leaned in and wrapped her arms around my neck, and after a second, I lifted my arms to embrace her back, afraid that I would suddenly go mutt and try to hurt her again. But she felt so warm and soft against my body. A flood of memories surged through me, all of them with her in my arms, and I held back tears, nuzzling my chin into her shoulder, feeling her braid tickling my cheek. "All right, then," she said as she let go before I could find her scent beneath the layers of fur she was wearing.

"It's time," Tigris said. Katniss kissed her cheek, pulled up her red cloak, hid her face beneath her scarf, and followed Gale out into the cold.

Now I was alone.

I remembered the cold. The madness and the throng of people and the rebels shooting. I lost sight of Katniss, but I saw the parachutes go off. I was burned in the explosions, just like everyone else. But I survived. The same, however, could not have been said about Prim. Poor, sweet, innocent Prim, the only person who Katniss was sure she loved was now gone. And there was word out there that it had been Gale's bomb, but I wasn't so sure of that. Either way, it couldn't have been on purpose.

"What's this?" Katniss demanded when she reached the meeting room where all of the remaining victors were assembled.

"We're not sure," Haymitch shrugged. "It appears to be a gathering of the remaining victors."

"We're all that's left?" she asked, and I realized then that this was the first time I saw her since we were separated at Tigris's. Her burn scars matched with mine. Suddenly the girl on fire didn't sound like such a great name. All of her flames had been extinguished, leaving their damage behind as proof of their past presence. I was on fire too, I thought.

"The price of celebrity," replied Beetee. "We were targeted from both sides. The Capitol killed the victors they suspected of being rebels. The rebels killed those thought to be allied with the Capitol." Johanna then scowled at Enobaria, complaining about her still being alive and threatening to kill her.

"Sit down, please, Katniss," Coin said as she closed the door behind her. She got straight to the point, announcing that Snow would be executed today. Katniss's gaze met mine, a glass of water holding a white rose sitting in front of her. She had been talking to Snow. My eyes flitted away, as they had done whenever I saw her at school. Only now I was intimidated by her for completely different reasons. And yet still I couldn't think of a way to talk to her again after everything that had happened.

"What?" asked Johanna in response to something that Coin had said, and I realized I should have been paying attention.

"We hold another Hunger Games using Capitol children," Coin repeated herself.

I gaped. "Are you joking?" I asked. What the fuck was wrong with this woman? Hadn't there been enough damage and suffering already?

"No. I should also tell you that if we do hold the Games, it will be known it was done with your approval, although the individual breakdown of your votes will be kept secret for your own security." She informed us.

"Was this Plutarch's idea?" asked Haymitch.

"It was mine," Coin replied. "It seemed to balance the need for vengeance with the least loss of life. You may cast your votes."

"NO!" I burst out, rage running through my veins. "I vote no, of course! We can't have another Hunger Games!" What the actual fuck was wrong with these people? I didn't wish any of what I had been through to anybody else. No human being deserved to suffer and be humiliated and used the way we had been. This can never happen again.

"Why not?" Johanna retorted. "It seems very fair to me. Snow even has a granddaughter. I vote yes," she said calmly as I stared at her in horror, my heart pounding loudly to my ears, slamming against my chest.

"So do I," said Enobaria indifferently. "Let them have a taste of their own medicine."

And they said I was the monster. "This is why we rebelled! Remember?" I cried out desperately, hoping that someone would hear me out. I could hardly breathe right, the desperation and fury threatening to choke me. "Annie?" I pleaded.

"I vote no with Peeta," she said, to my relief. "So would Finnick if he were here."

"But he isn't, because Snow's mutts killed him," Johanna reminded her, and it was all I could do not to strangle her.

"No," Beetee voted, and I began to relax. Maybe Johanna, Coin, and Enobaria, were the only psychopaths in this room. "It would set a bad precedent. We have to stop viewing one another as enemies. At this point, unity is essential for our survival. No," he repeated, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, someone who was actually rational and had an ounce of empathy for humanity.

"We're down to Katniss and Haymitch," said Coin.

Everything went silent as we watched Katniss turn this in her head. She stared at the rose in front of her then said, "I vote yes…for Prim." I stopped breathing. She was gone. My selfless, caring, Katniss who would do anything to live and ensure the safety of others before her own was gone. They had broken her. And I hated them for it.

"Haymitch, it's up to you," said Coin, and it was then that my anger consumed me. I screamed and yelled at Haymitch, telling him what an atrocity this was. Surely he could still see some sense? I begged him, hoping against hope that there was still hope for humanity. But as I did this, he only watched Katniss in thought. He didn't listen.

"I'm with the Mockingjay," he said, and I gave up. All hope was lost. It was all I was fucking good for, hoping. And I always lost. I held back tears of anger, clenching my fists. My biggest fault was being so human.

"Excellent. That carries the vote," said Coin cheerfully. "Now we really must take our places for the execution." Couldn't they see that this woman was even worse than Snow? We went from evil dictator to merciless demon.

"Can you see that Snow's wearing this? Just over his heart?" Katniss asked her as she handed her the white rose.

Coin smiled. "Of course. And I'll make sure he knows about the Games."

"Thank you," Katniss said softly, the way she had said thank you to Snow after he had congratulated her for winning the first Games.

We were then lead outside into the swarm of people, where people cheered when they saw Coin and went insane when they saw Snow. He was standing in the narrow terrace in front of the mansion, only ten yards away from Katniss and her deathly bow. But as I saw her aiming at Snow and watching him carefully, she suddenly shifted her arrow up and let go, President Coin falling over the balcony seconds later. There's a pause before chaos ensues, and I knew then that my girl on fire is still there.

She had fooled us all, and for once, I was proud of this. But that only lasted until I realized that there would be consequences. I ran up to her as fast as I could, barely making it before she ripped into the pill in her sleeve, sinking her teeth into my scarred hand instead. Her gray eyes met mine as blood dripped from the bite. "Let me go!" she snarled, fighting my firm grasp.

"I can't," I said, tearing the pocket from her sleeve as they pulled me away from her, letting the purple pill fall into the ground and be stepped on by the guard. She instantly loses it, screeching and fighting and biting at anywhere near her, like a wild, unleashed animal. She started screaming Gale's name, but I knew he wouldn't listen. She hadn't killed him when he had called hers. I didn't know what to make of their friendship anymore, but I was relieved that she was alive. They would have to let her go eventually.

No ever knew what to do with her, after all.

Unlike Katniss, I willingly worked with Dr. Aurelius until he released me. The first thing I decided to do when I arrived in District Twelve was plant primroses in Katniss's garden. I wanted to contribute to the cherishing of her memory, knowing that Katniss would appreciate it.

"You're back," she said as soon as saw me digging at the ground beneath the windows.

"Dr. Aurelius wouldn't let me leave the Capitol until yesterday," I said. "By the way, he said to tell you he can't keep pretending he's treating you forever. You have to pick up the phone."

We studied each other then, and I frowned sadly at the sight of her. Her hair was matted into clumps, her eyes were hollowed and her skin was pale and sinking into her thin, scarred frame. My wounded Mockingjay. I wanted to take it all away, but I knew that I wasn't in a position to do it yet. But I had changed for her, and I wanted a chance to start all over.

"I went to the woods this morning and dug these up. For her," I said, knowing that she knew who I was referring to. "I thought we could plant them along the side of the house."

She glared at the roses at first, until it finally sank in. She nodded her approval, and then ran back into the house, locking the door firmly behind her. I knew I wouldn't see her again for a while.

We grew back together. Katniss started a memory book, and the longer we worked on it, the closer we became. Eventually I realized that the love I felt for her before was nothing compared to the way I loved her now. Back then, she had been an unreachable crush, a perfect idealism of who I thought she was. She was an undistinguishable flame. But I saw her clearly now. Her flaws, her scars, her tears, her fears, her stubbornness. And I wanted them all. I was no longer blinded. The longer I loved her, the more beautiful she became. And on the night she let me in her bed again to comfort her, I knew that this was meant to be. That I finally had something to offer her, and it was, of all things, hope, because I was a man in love again, truly in love. She felt right in my arms. My lips molded perfectly against hers, and we fell in synchronicity when our bodies united. This time, we had each other to satiate our hunger, and I was there to quench her flames, and she to fuel my fire. When I made her mine, it wasn't out of lust or frustration or desperation. I was hers, and she was mine, and anything else was unthinkable. I loved her better now. And as our bodies collapsed in the midst of our love, I asked: "You love me. Real or not real?"

And she said, "Real."

To be continued in the epilogue