Chapter Twenty Four- Protect Me, Please

(Willow)

Telling Peeta about his daughter was the most effective they could do, to ruin him completely. All day, every day, for well over two weeks, probably, he tried to break down the door of his room, to get out and help his daughter. But he was far too weak to help himself, let alone break out of a room and help someone else. Even so, he kept on trying, until he found it physically impossible to raise his head.

After then, he just stayed curled up in a ball, as he covered his head with his arms. Because he could not get out to help his daughter, he began to pray for her and beg that she would be safe. He was desperate to believe that Katniss would hear him and stop hurting their daughter, just because he kept on asking her to. But, of course, he didn't know that nothing was actually happening, nor that his pleas wouldn't work.

However, the only good thing that came from Peeta's reaction was, for a while, they stopped injecting the tracker jacker venom into him and stopped showing him edited footage. I think they were waiting for the opportunity to make something, which involved Katniss and his daughter. But I was not told to do anything, so I could do nothing but sit back and watch. And I hated the position I was put into.

Until, one day, they filled his room with the sound of a baby girl laughing. It continued in that way for a few minutes, until she began crying, but nothing was done to comfort her. Another few days of silence, and then a slightly older girl, one who was beginning to speak, who began to cry out for help. Then, a girl, who could speak more, so screamed for someone to come. Finally, it was nothing more than a girl crying, having given up on believing in anyone.

Peeta broke down at the sound of the eldest girl, which was when they came for my help, once again. But, by that point, I had reached an unhealthily thin point, with dark eyes, of someone who hadn't slept in months. The most recent wounds I'd received had begun to fade away, to join those that hadn't properly healed after the Games. Then, I was terrified of anyone coming near me, in case they hurt me, like they had Peeta. And that was exactly how they wanted me to behave.

They needed someone who was thin, scarred and weak; they needed someone who was scared of any human touch; they needed someone who could be used to fool Peeta again. But they also needed someone who looked like a mix of Katniss and Peeta. It was difficult to fit someone who fit all criteria exactly. Unfortunately, though- or conveniently for them- I ticked all the boxes. They had been preparing for a while, after all. I would be acting as Peeta and Katniss' daughter.

They spent a long time prepping me for what was going to happen, what I needed to say, what I needed to do; they weren't going to bother with an ear piece. They even had people doing some makeup on me, so that Peeta wouldn't be able to recognise me as his best friend, rather than not recognising me as his daughter. But, a few weeks, maybe, after Peeta had heard the oldest version of his daughter, I was finally called fit for purpose.

However, in the morning, I couldn't get up, for what I knew I needed to do. But it didn't matter. They would just bring Peeta to me. There was nothing I needed to do, to get ready. The night before, they had dressed me into a ice blue dress, which would look ugly on anyone, for being far too big and ripped all over. My hair had been loosely plaited, in a style like Katniss, but it had soon fallen out of place. I looked as terrible as they wanted. And they had even put me in the room, in which I needed to be.

I spend the whole morning in that way, lying down, my arms providing a cushion for my face, on the floor. Even when I hear people walking into the room, I don't move. Pretending to be someone who does exist is one thing, but being someone who doesn't? How can I break that part of his heart, when that part of his heart shouldn't even exist? I don't want to do this.

Peeta doesn't move, either, until the two of us are left, in the closed room. But I've already begun to cry, muffled tears, and have curled up tighter around myself. Then, he finally states, "I'm not going to pity you."

Still, I stay on the floor, tears sliding down my cheeks, scared of what I have to do. Until I hear him cross the room, towards me, and place a heavy hand on my shoulder, to pull me up. At that moment, I'm across the room, into another corner, from where I watch him, also staring at me.

"You're not Katniss," he whispers, going to sit close to me, until I move back, and he sits a few steps away.

But I force myself to nod.

"Are you Willow?" he asks.

"H- How do you know...my name?" I reply, my voice cracking, due to the fact that it's been so long since it's last use.

He frowns a little, slowly lifting a hand up, so I can see where it is. Then, he goes to move my hand out of my face, but I flinch when he comes near. "I won't hurt you, I promise," he says softly, in the most Peeta-like way that I have heard in a long time.

Slowly, I lower my hand, without his assistance, but I do not speak again.

This time, he keeps his distance, but I can still see that he's studying every part of me that he can see, to see if he recognises any of it. Then, after a few minutes, he tells me, "You're not my Willow."

"What do you mean?" My voice still wavers in the middle, but I'm a little stronger.

"You're not my Willow," he repeats. "You're not my best friend."

"I'm not," I agree quietly, "but why would you say I was?"

"You look so much like her," he says slowly.

"I was named after a Willow. I was told that she would be the most influential person..." I trail off, but what I'm telling him is true; the Capitol told me that they imagined, after Katniss, Peeta's best friend would be the one to ruin him. "Apparently, I look like she did."

Peeta looks at me carefully. "But- But you haven't quite got her eyes. And you kind of look like...Katniss."

At the end of the sentence, I close myself up again, wrapping my arms around my head and bringing my knees as close to my chest as possible.

Then, without thinking, he calls, "Willow?" But he also puts his hand on my shoulder.

Only, this time, I have nowhere to go, this time, with Peeta in front of me. So, instead, I press myself further into the corner and plead, almost silently, "Please don't hurt me. I haven't done anything wrong. I never have. I don't mean to do. Just leave me alone for once."

As I begin to cry, my best friend falters. But, after a few minutes, he asks, "Who was it, Willow? Who hurt you? Was it Katniss?" I don't answer, so he adds, "I know what it's like for her to hurt me. She completely ruined my life. And I used to think she was perfect. But she broke my heart, as well as having physically hurt me."

This time, when I'm crying, it's not because I'm acting scared. Instead, I can't believe that he really thinks all that he's been told about as Katniss as true. But he's so sincere when he talks to me, so I can't convince myself that he doesn't think it.

"I don't really know why I ever thought about her in such a way," he continues. "It's probably because I was only young when I first saw her, and she had hardly done anything wrong, either. I just didn't know the number of people she would hurt, the number of people she would use, the number of people she would kill to get her way. She only worried about herself. And I was too stupid to not realise that I meant nothing to her. All she ever was, she ruined in just a few short days."

He doesn't realise- as he is too caught up in what he is saying- but I bring my arms down slightly, to watch him. And, when I do, I can feel my heart shattering. All the times I had seen him speaking about Katniss, with a far away, dreamy look in his eyes, have been ruined by a harsh anger. He's not the boy I grew up with. He doesn't care for Katniss anymore. But it's all my fault.

"I didn't see all the terrible things she did, when we were in the Games together," he tells me. "I trusted her with my life, but that was the problem. She abused that trust. And so, when I was sent back into the Games, with my best friend, she spent all her time with the man she actually loved. And she was so proud when she was pregnant with his child- she boasted that fact- but she was wrong. That little girl was my daughter and she hated her for that."

When he finishes speaking, he's crying, too, so, without thinking, I try to hug him. Like I was with him, he's a little tense, but eventually relaxes, even if he doesn't hug me back; it's as if he know that I will freak out, if he does.

That's when I admit to him, "I know that story, but from a different side. I hardly agree with that version, though."

"Who have you heard it from?" he asks, in a whisper.

"I've had experience of the same torture as you," I begin.

"Who have you heard it from?" he repeats slowly.

I don't answer immediately, but when I do, I tell him, "My mother."

"And who is your mother?" he presses.

"I don't think you need me to tell you that, do you?" I reply so quietly.

For a few seconds, he only sighs, until he eventually leans back, offering a hand out for me. "I promise I will never hurt you," he says gently, when I don't take his hand. "No one should ever do that."

Warily, I take it, allowing him to lead me to my feet, but I don't see the need to say anything.

"Is she really your m- Am I really..." He trails off, seemingly unable to finish what he wants to ask me.

Too, my words seem to stick in my throat, when I try to answer, but I manage to. "From what I've gathered, you are."

"Have I really missed the whole beginning part of my daughter's life?" he questions, although I doubt he actually wants me to answer. "So long..." A sigh passes his lips again, but he stops speaking, so he can drop my hand and look at me properly. "How could she ever hurt you?"

Again, I don't think it's something he wants me to reply to, so I don't attempt to make up an answer that I don't want to give, whilst he's not really bothered about receiving one. Instead, I just cross my arms over my chest and leave him studying me.

"I wouldn't have let her hurt you, if I were there," he tells me after a few minutes, so quietly that I jump slightly. But, obviously having noticed my momentary fear, he adds, "I'm sorry. I didn't intend to hurt you."

"It's okay," I whisper, rubbing my arms and looking down. "I just get...nervous of what's going to happen, after so many years of not knowing. I have too vivid an imagination."

Staying silent, he walks back, to face me, before he reminds me, "I honestly meant I would have thrown my life on the line for you, if I could have. She wouldn't have been able to hurt you, if I had been there. I'll even still protect you, now."

"You will?" I repeat, a desperate gleam in my eye, when I look up.

"Of course. I'll look after, whenever you want me to." He pauses, smiles, a little unsurely, at me, and then continues. "If it even came to it, I would kill Katniss, to save your life."

My stomach begins to tie itself in knots at what he says, but I just stare at him, instead of trying to form words.

But, maybe sensing my panic at what I know and he doesn't, he quickly backtracks. "Only if you would want me to."

"She doesn't know I'm here," I blurt out. "She never wanted me to see you, as she knew you would react in such a way."

"Did she speak of me often, then?" he asks, taking a seat on the floor again, and offering me a place beside him.

Desperate to be near him, when he is offering the closeness, after so long, I want to say yes, but I don't feel I can, when that hug earlier was probably too much. Instead, I sit quite a distance away, so I can what he's doing and answer, "Rarely."

"What was it that she did say, when she spoke of me, though?" he presses.

Biting my lip for a second, I try to work out how to word it, before I give up. "I- She- I always asked to be told stories about the father I never had with me. Gale- the man she remarried, as soon as she could- was always with mother, but I knew he wasn't my real father. But, if they ever told me a story, it was never a fairy tale. You were a monster, and I was near enough one, too. There was never a happy ending for anyone, apart from for Gale and mother. There was certainly never one for you or me.

"But, if it was anything specific, she said stuff like my father- she never referred to you as her husband- was a terrible man and I was lucky that you wouldn't be in my life. She said that it was your fault, whenever anything ever happened to you. She said- She said it was to punish you, but she couldn't do that. I was the closest to you she could ever get. And, from the day I was born, she didn't ever let up on hurting me.

"She never ever intended to kill me in any kind of way, be it starvation or wounding me in such a way, that it would be too serious to heal. She would just wait until the last minute to help me, so I suffered for as long as possible. When I was young, I didn't know what she was doing, why my mother ignored me all the time. But there was nothing I could do. When I began to talk and call for you, for help, she still ignored me. Eventually, when I was old enough, I just gave up. I knew nothing would happen, no matter what I tried."

"But, now, I'm here for you," he reminds me. "I'm not letting anyone hurt you. You'll be the safest you've ever been, now that you've got me."

I try to smile, but it seems that those muscles in my face have stopped working, as I seem to be unable to do what I want to. So, instead, I just thank him, before I begin looking at the room around us.

He sits in front of me for a few minutes, before eventually asking, "Are you okay? You look kind of scared, as if you're expecting something's going to happen."

"I- I'm just paranoid, I suppose. Mother didn't come to see me, today, before I managed to get away, and I don't want her to be looking for me right now," I explain, looking down at my lap. "But I don't want to leave here because, well, I've felt the safest I've ever felt, when I'm here, with you."

I don't look up when I finish speaking, as I'm scared to see what expression will be on his face. Will it be a look of worry, as he wonders what his daughter will be going back to? Will it be a look of pride because, no matter that she has been beaten, his daughter is still strong? Will it be a look of anger, for not realising something so terrible could happen? Or all three? Or, even, some other kind of emotion?

"Willow, you don't have to go back," he tells me softly. "I promised to keep you safe and I still aim to keep that promise. You could just stay here, with me, until you know that no further harm will come to you. I wouldn't mind."

With a sigh, I nod my head. "Thank you. Maybe, one day, I will. For now, I think I should go back. Just so you don't get hurt by her again." Without waiting for him to answer, I get to my feet and begin to walk away, only to be stopped by a hand on my wrist, which immediately makes me jump away.

"Sorry, Willow," he says, as I look to him. "But I just have to say, even though I hate that you've been kept out of my life, I'm glad you've grown up to be so strong."

I don't know how to reply, so I just nod my head and step out of his room, the door automatically closing behind me. Then, as soon as it has, I sink down, to the bottom of the wall, my head in my hands. But, almost as soon as I have settled, I am pulled up again, by the two guards that seem to transport me everywhere. This time- as the usual routine is, like it is whenever I leave Peeta's room- they lead me to my own, where the doctor is already waiting for me, a live image of Peeta on the wall.

"You did not get to show Mr Mellark the incredible things your dress can do," she scolds, not even waiting for me to sit, before she says it.

"There was no opportunity for it to come up I conversation," I argue, taking a seat against the wall, as I take hold of the heavy material around me.

"Tomorrow, you will, then," she decides for me. "He will just have to rescue you from it."

I hang my head, hardly willing to be tortured, in any effort to further make my best friend hate his wife.

"After all, it is all well and good being told something, but it is difficult to really trust what you have been told, until you have actually seen it with your own eyes," she continues. "But he was we convinced today, alone."

"He has no evidence not to believe me this time," I reason, glancing at her. "All he's been told recently are lies. I'm only as convincing as you've made him gullible."

She doesn't look entirely impressed with what I am saying, but I can also see that it something she cannot be bothered to argue about. Instead, she tells me, "There is not much left that we can teach Mr Mellark. But, too, we no longer are able to retrieve information about the rebels from Miss Mason, and we never really had any use for yourself and Miss Cresta. You will all be going back to the rebels soon."

I stare at her, shocked and a little wary. "We're just going back? Nothing else? No hidden catches?"

"Nothing from us," she answers. "We will be doing nothing to hurt you or your friends, this time. On the other hand, your best friend might not be so pleased to see his wife or Mr Hawthorne."

Still, I stare at her. "This was your plan all along? To ruin Peeta, make him hate Katniss, so she would be so broken that she would do nothing? Are you planning for Peeta to kill her?"

"That is not necessary- she could just be too weak to be the mockingjay- but that could be a bonus, on our account. We do not have to get our hands dirty, then," she agrees. "We do not want to kill more people than necess-"

"That's a rich thing for you to say," I interrupt, without thinking. "What even is the reason for this rebellion? Is it maybe something to do with people dying? People starving in the Districts because they don't have enough to eat; people being killed for doing the smallest thing wrong; children being sacrificed as a memory, every year, for entertainment? You don't really care that you can so easily kill people."

"It is, indeed, true, Miss Safe," she admits, with a shrug of her shoulders. "But I would watch my tongue, if I were you. You have just reminded us of how someone can be taken out of the way, with just the press of a button."

Immediately, all attempts to defend myself retreat, and I find myself nodding, giving into her words straight away.

She smiles. "Well, then, just be ready to continue ruining Mr Mellark's opinion of his wife, whenever we need you to." With that, she leaves the room.

I wait until I hear the lock click, before I begin to allow the tears to slide down my face. Their plan is just too intricate, so well planned, that something must be able to go wrong; only, they seem to know every detail of it, they seem to have thought through every potential thing that could go wrong. And, unfortunately, they're not being too ambitious, by trying to stop the rebellion completely; they're just trying to stop everyone involved in it.

The only problem is I'm so heavily involved in their plan. If I were to go against what they want, would they be able to stop it, really? Surely, if they've got a detailed plan for everything, they'll have one for me. But, as they warned me when I first came here, how would they punish me? Would it be me or Peeta, who was hurt? Only, they wouldn't put that much time and effort into ruining Peeta, to ruin Katniss, if they would do something else to him, just to stop me from doing something wrong. I think they would hurt me.

And it would hardly make a difference, after what I've already been forced through, here. I survived the nightmares in the Games, for the part that lasted. I was involved in the plan to complete rewrite my best friend's memories of his wife, watching him suffer as I did so. Now, I know that my best friend will be going to everyone who has been waiting for him to return, only to hate them all. I have to do something. I can't sit back and watch anymore.

I'm just about to try and work out what *exactly* I'm going to do, if it's not sitting around and watching, when I hear a noise. But, knowing that I didn't hear the door open back up, I glance up, about to look around for what was left in the room with me, until I remember that they left the live video going, on the wall, of what Peeta is doing. Only, now, they've put the sound on, too.

However, now, it's hardly a surprise to hear Peeta talking out loud, to no one; I think he's been doing it, from the moment we got here. But, this time, it's different to every other time I've heard him. It's not a scared, confused, or even angry cry. He's not trying to convince himself that Katniss isn't the person that it seems she is. And he hasn't just given up on everything, so is wishing for all that is happening to him to stop.

No, instead, he's pleading. He's begging a Katniss that can't hear him, a Katniss that doesn't care for him, a Katniss that isn't actually real. He's not sad, though, or even scared for himself. This time, he wants his daughter protected.

"Katniss, I know that you probably won't bother to listen to this or, if you do, you'll ignore me, but I need to know that I've said it," he begins. "But you need to stop ruining the life of our daughter. She's only young. She's done nothing wrong to you. I know you didn't want to have my child, but that's hardly her fault, is it? I should be the one getting the blame for that. Just don't take out your hatred on someone that is so innocent.

"If you want, you could come back to me and ruin my life even more. You could do anything to me, except making me hurt, by using our daughter. Because I can't see her being hurt any more. If you continue to, though, know that I will find a way out of this room, which I've been stuck in for years. However it is possible, I will get to you, only to hurt you in every way that you've ever hurt her.

"I'm not sitting back and just watching for any longer."

And, as he says his final sentence, I realise the same thing. I will have to do something to help him soon.

Author's Note: Ahhh another chapter about the terrible time that both Peeta and Willow are spending in the Capitol. I can't imagine that it would be particularly pleasant for either of them!

MiaBelles: Believe me, I felt the same way all through Mockingjay, too! And yeah, but she does want to help. You never know, she might... Maybe...

aftermockingjay: Yep, that's right. And, in this chapter, she was pretending to be the daughter that Katniss and Peeta never had.

The final chapter has already been written, so I'm onto writing the epilogue now!

Review, please?