Chapter 14:
Haymitch, Peeta, and I have the option of staying in the Justice building until Prim and Paavo have said their goodbyes, but we choose instead to go directly to the train station. Peeta and Paavo don't have very much to say to each other, and since I will be seeing so much of Prim over the next week I don't want to take a second away from my mother's goodbye to her. We are given a ride by Peacekeepers, which is a good thing because Haymitch had already been drinking more excessively than usual, a Reaping Day tradition.
We board the train heading to the Capitol and wait there for Paavo and Prim to arrive. An hour or so later, they do, Paavo looking devastated but determined; Prim's face a mess of tears. I just stroke her hair and let her cry, knowing that there probably isn't anything that I can say to make her feel much better. The train zips off and for the rest of today and part of tomorrow we will be trapped within the confines of one the Capitol's most extravagant forms of transportation.
We just sit there, silent. At this point, we have discussed survival tips for every possible scenario we could conceive. Over the last month, we have gone through every single video of the previous Games, critiquing the actions of the tributes, figuring out as a team what we would do differently if presented with similar circumstances. We are talked out- at least until we get a much better idea of what they are most likely to encounter in the arena. At this point, it could be anything.
That said, I continue to worry about Prim. We have given her the tools, I think, for her to defend herself against the Careers, as well as a number of the surprises that the Gamemakers could throw at her. But from experience, what I would have done as an outsider looking in, versus what I ended up doing in the arena when faced with the situations firsthand, did not always match. My biggest worry is that Prim will let her fear and emotions get the best of her. We tried to combat it as much as possible during the training- practicing things over and over again, getting her into a routine- and by the end spending so much time in the woods that I forgot that she used to be afraid of them- but who knows what she'll do when the gong sounds.
When we are told that the dining car has dinner prepared, it is a welcome relief from everyone's stony silence. Entering the car, mouthwatering smells waft all around us. Even being victors, Peeta and I don't eat quite as well as we did this time last year at the Capitol. Not that I would trade it, of course.
We listen to ourselves eat- no one feels like engaging in conversation, and the food is delicious. Like I saw Peeta do last year, I immediately start dipping bread (as well as most anything else I can get my hands on) in my overflowing cup of hot chocolate. Effie occasionally tries to get the conversation ball rolling with a question directed to the group, but everyone ignores her. I don't think Effie quite realizes how much time the five of us had spent together; she is used to get-to-know-you chit-chat like in previous years. We are way beyond that now. Haymitch eventually passes out on his plate, and it takes a minute for everyone to notice. We just make sure he's breathing, shrug, and leave him be.
My mind wanders to Gale. At his words. What they meant. It should have been us. Maybe it should have been- but it isn't. For some reason this concept is difficult for me to grapple with. I look at Peeta, my fiancée. My fiancée. This is going to be my husband in merely a few weeks. In preparing for the Quell, I have managed to almost completely overlook this fact. But regardless of whether this event is staged by the Capitol, whether it's for the cameras or not, we're still going to stand in front of each other and say vows and words like 'til death do us part. And I'm quite certain that Peeta will mean every word of his. But will I? At that moment, Peeta catches me looking at him, and gives me a shy little smile. You could do a lot worse, you know. The words resonate. It should have been us. I'm not sure which ring louder, truer.
The train continues to roll along. After a completely indulgent meal and an equally calorie-laden dessert, Prim excuses herself from the dining car, but I don't want her to be by herself, so I follow her to the next car over. She looks like she is about to cry again.
"Is it your conversation with Mom?" I ask, sitting down beside her and putting my arms around her thin frame. I don't want to pry, but I wonder if anything our mother said to her at their goodbye has added pressure- Prim certainly doesn't need it at this point.
Prim shakes her head no. "I'm just so scared, Katniss." Tears slip over her cheeks. Seeing her this way is devastating. But Prim needs to see me strong; I need to stay strong for her.
I stroke her hair and nod. "I know how it feels."
Prim looks up at me. "I feel so alone. Is there anyone that I'm going to be able to trust in there?"
I look down at her. This is the opportunity for me to say to her something I've needed to say for a long time. I've had plenty of chances to voice what I'm about to, all of those times we were alone in the woods together, but never could bring myself to spit it out, because it will take away some of her hope. But now she's asking me, and I can't lie to her. I think of Paavo, then think of what Gale said, and I know that he's right. I meet her eyes, take a deep breath, shake my head. "No, you can't, not the whole way through. I'm sorry."
She bursts into tears again. I hug her tighter, but remain firm in my conviction. As we are on Capitol property, I choose my words carefully. "Listen, Prim, you are going to need to trust people at first, that's the only way you are going to be able to survive. But later in the Games, when the numbers get cut in half, it will be a different story. And all of those people that you trusted at first- you just won't know anymore. You'll have to watch them. See if they've changed. Find out what their intentions are. Use your best judgment. Maybe you can still trust them. But maybe you can't. You can't assume anything." I wish I didn't have to be this vague. I wish I could trust Haymitch's rumors of an alliance fully. But at this point, I'm not willing to wager Prim's life on anything.
She nods, trying to get a grip on her crying. "Okay," she says.
I feel the need to speak again. "But Prim, you can trust me out here. Because you winning is more important than anything else to me. More important than loyalty to Haymitch or Peeta or Paavo. I will do anything I can to bring you home. Anything." I mean every word. The Capitol cannot take away my sister from me. And I will scream from the rooftops their goodness if it means that she lives. I hate the Capitol with every fiber of my being, but I love my sister more.
Prim visibly relaxes. "Thanks, sis," she says, and gives me a halfhearted smile. But after a moment, it fades, and she looks exhausted, emotionally drained. She doesn't move from my arms.
We look out the train window together in silence, and watch another district pass by the window- Perhaps District 11, as there is nothing but field after field of corn stretching across the landscape. It is sunset, and on the flat horizon I have never seen the sun look bigger and more vibrant as it does right now, lighting up the rest of the sky. Mesmerized, I watch it continue to dip until there is nothing but oranges and pinks and reds, and then later purples and blues and blacks. I hear Prim's breathing become slower and deeper and realize with a quick glance downward that she has fallen asleep in my arms. Not wanting to wake her, I just sit there and stare. In this awkward seated position, and after this conversation, I know that sleep will evade me.
After an hour or so, Peeta comes in to check on us. By this time Prim is snoring, and while he noiselessly gestures that we would be more comfortable in the sleeping car, I silently mouth back to him that we're okay, that I plan to stay here for the night, or at least until Prim wakes up, and that I'll probably see him in the morning. But instead of leaving, Peeta stays with us, sitting down next to me, slipping his arm around my shoulders, gently massaging my neck. I slowly relax my head as he does it to rest it on his shoulder. He softly kisses my forehead and as I feel my eyelids getting heavy, and I am never more grateful that he is there. If there is anyone that the Capitol is going to force me to marry, than at that moment I couldn't be happier that it is him.
We are still positioned that way at daybreak when Effie comes in talking about another 'big, big, big, day'.