As usual, anything you recognize isn't mine, but Suzanne Collins'. That includes most of the dialog spoken by Katniss and Peeta, of course. I did expand on Peeta's pleading to Katniss when she zoned out in the book. There is no way Gale is missing any of this, after all.
ღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒஐღ
Chapter 25
~Thursday, Games Day 17~
I'm screaming on the inside as Katniss prepares to face Cato. What I wouldn't give to be the one standing there beside her right now! I should be there! Cato wouldn't have a chance against us.
They brace for battle as Cato reaches them. But, he runs right through them without engaging!
They turn towards the woods from where Cato emerged and see the pack of wolf mutts bearing down on them. They immediately turn and run after Cato, the mutts closing ground behind them fast.
Shoot! Shoot Cato! Shoot him now, before the mutts reach you! It will end the attack!
She doesn't hear me, running blindly from the mutts instead; following Cato to the Cornucopia. Peeta, his leg still not fully healed, trails behind. Katniss reaches the horn and turns back to see Peeta being run to ground by the mutts. Climb, Katniss! Climb! She shoots one, but there are twenty more. She doesn't have enough arrows to kill them all.
"Go, Katniss! Go!" Peeta yells when she doesn't immediately begin climbing.
She nods and finally begins climbing.
Cato lies atop the Cornucopia, gasping for breath and gagging over the edge. Shoot him! He's leaning over the edge!
She nocks an arrow, setting her sight on Cato when suddenly Peeta cries out. She turns and shoots her arrow at the mutt on his heels instead of Cato. If you had killed Cato, the Gamemakers would have called off the mutts, you know Katniss.
"Climb!" she yells and Peeta does, reaching her side with some help. They're halfway up the horn, but not out of mutt range as Cato is.
Cato is coughing up blood, "Can they climb it?" he asks them, clearly more concerned with the mutts than his District Twelve opponents at the moment.
The mutts huddle at the base of the Cornucopia, standing on their hind legs, giving them an eerily human quality. The camera zooms in on one of the mutts. They're wearing collars. Like pets. I've never seen mutts like them before. Novel idea. As soon as these Games are over, the Capitolites are probably going to have miniature versions walking on leashes around the City Circle.
Vick gasps, looking suddenly pale. I look to him in concern. Is he in pain? Is he going to be sick? This is almost certain to get much worse before it's over.
"That red one…with the five on its collar. It…it looks like Ginger," he finally spits out.
I whip around to the screens, taking stock of the mutts. They're a variety of colors, ranging from the red one Vick pointed out to blonde and black and every shade in-between. And, the collars do have tags with the district numbers on them.
"They're just mutts, Vick. They're just designed to look like the tributes to make them more scary," I tell him, swallowing the bile in my throat. I hope they are only designed to resemble the dead tributes. I wouldn't put anything past the Capitol, though.
"But…but the eyes…" he whispers.
I put my hand comfortingly on his leg. Sometimes I almost wish he wasn't quite so observant. I don't want to consider the possibilities any longer.
The mutts are jumping at the Cornucopia, trying to reach Peeta and Katniss, but they don't appear able to climb it outright. Katniss shoots several more. Save some of those arrows for the real opponent! They're screwed if it comes down to unarmed combat.
Katniss shrieks as the Glimmer mutt lands near them, shooting it in the throat. I've never heard her sound so… girly. So grossed out making a kill.
"Katniss?" Peeta asks. Did he notice her strange reaction?
"It's her!" she chokes out. Ah, she's noticed the resemblance, too.
"Who?" Peeta asks.
She doesn't speak, only staring in mounting horror at the pack. Get it together, Katniss. It's all coming down to this.
"What is it, Katniss?" Peeta shakes her shoulder in an attempt to get her to focus.
She needs to focus on killing Cato. Not on the mutts.
"It's them. It's all of them. The others. Rue and Foxface and…all of the other tributes," she says.
Peeta gasps as he recognizes the truth. "What did they do to them? You don't think…those could be their real eyes?"
Vick falls out of his chair and vomits on the ground at my feet. The crowd behind us is murmuring about Peeta's observation. Everyone is upset about the possibility of the mutts actually being the dead tributes. Leave the dead well enough alone. If the crowd in Twelve is so upset, I can only imagine the outrage in the other districts, where it is their tributes who are represented by the mutts. They are watching a part of their tributes - their children – turned into mutations and dying again. Truly cruel.
The mutts have started another attack, launching themselves at the Cornucopia. Peeta cries out as one latches viciously onto his leg, nearly pulling him and Katniss over the side. Wouldn't the Gamemakers be thrilled?
"Kill it, Peeta! Kill it!" Katniss shouts.
Peeta stabs the mutt (who, by the number Two on the collar, I know can only be Clove) and she releases her hold on his leg, allowing Katniss to pull him back up. His new leg wound is bleeding heavily, coating the side of the golden horn scarlet red. They crawl up to the top of the Cornucopia where Cato waits, still not back on his feet.
Look out for Cato, Katniss! Cato staggers to his feet as the crowd in Twelve goes berserk yelling warnings ... unheeded.
Katniss shoots the Thresh mutt as Cato reaches down and grabs Peeta, jerking him away from her. He's got Peeta in a choke-hold, cutting off his air. Blood still flows freely from Peeta's calf, covering the surface in a slippery pool of blood.
Katniss swiftly nocks another arrow, aiming it at Cato's head. That's it. Take him out so you can come home, Catnip. Finally.
Cato just laughs, sure he has this won. "Shoot me and he goes down with me," he taunts.
He's using Peeta as a shield and standing so close to the lip if he falls, they both fall. Katniss is overcome with indecision.
Shoot Katniss! Shoot!
Peeta's lips are turning blue, but he's still struggling against the bigger boy. She's got to make a decision. Fast. Once Peeta loses consciousness Cato will use his body as a weapon. Cato smiles triumphantly. He senses her weakness. Like the predator he is.
Peeta is mouthing shoot to Katniss. He raises his hand, dripping with blood and paints an X on the back of Cato's hand. Katniss shifts and shoots immediately, hitting Cato on the mark.
Cato screams in pain and surprise, loosening his grip.
Peeta is prepared. As soon as Cato's grip loosens, Peeta slams his body back against Cato, turning and punching him. Katniss lunges for Peeta, grabbing hold of him just as Cato slips off the edge of the blood-soaked horn, plummeting to the ground. The mutts are all over him as soon as he hits.
A cheer goes up in Twelve as their last opponent falls. Everyone is talking at once. Hugging. High fiving.
"Did they win?" Prim asks desperately.
"Not yet. They haven't fired the cannon," I say, without taking my eyes from the screens. Adrenaline is pumping through my veins as if I was in the arena with them.
The crowd goes tense and silent as word spreads through the crowd. No cannon.
The fall didn't kill him. The mutts will have to finish him off. But, he's wearing full body armor. They'll have to go for the head.
Katniss and Peeta cling to each other atop the golden Cornucopia, waiting for the cannon. Waiting for their victory.
Cato pulls a long knife from somewhere in his clothes and takes on the mutt pack. He's trying to work his way around to the tail of the horn, but he's overpowered. I hope the mutts aren't smart enough to realize they could get to Katniss by way of the tail.
The mutts drag Cato into the Cornucopia as the sun sets.
Night falls. The anthem plays. Still no cannon. No deaths for Day 17.
Katniss and Peeta huddle together listening to the moans and screams from within the Cornucopia as night deepens and an arctic chill descends on the arena. Waiting for the sound that will set them free.
The crowd sits in an expectant hush. An unnatural silence falls over the square as we await Cato's inevitable death.
I wonder who will get credited with his kill. Probably Peeta, as he's the one who shoved Cato over the edge, feeding him to the mutts. That makes four kills for Peeta, if you count Ginger: the boy from Seven, the boy from Four, Ginger and Cato. Katniss has three: Glimmer and Marina with the tracker jackers and Marvel. They might both get credited with Cato's death. No matter how you split it up, they killed seven between them. Seven. I wonder how people will think of them now when they return.
At this point, I begin to consider the possibilities of what will happen when Cato's cannon fires. Will the Capitol allow two Victors or will they force Katniss to kill Peeta? Because, I'm not so sure she would ever recover from that.
Maybe it would be better if he bleeds to death before the mutts finish off Cato. He might, but then, I've counted him out before and been proven wrong. He has an unbelievable constitution. Anyone else would be dead after what he's been through. And then we'd never find out if the Capitol really intended to honor the rule change. Don't want that. Either we have two returned to us or the Capitol just watered a nascent rebellion…with the blood of one too many tributes.
They're shivering atop the horn. Katniss removes her jacket and her shirt, using the shirt and her last remaining arrow to make a tourniquet before pulling her jacket back on.
Mrs. Everdeen and Prim deal with the suspense by discussing the merits of the tourniquet and Katniss' application of it. Prim's worried about his leg. Her mother points out that Peeta will bleed out without it if he doesn't receive medical treatment very soon.
Katniss lies down beside Peeta and tells him not to sleep.
"Are you cold?" he asks, unzipping his jacket and fastening it around her. He's bleeding to death and his thoughts are to keep her warm? Or to spend his last moments close to her? Is this the care a one-track mind offers? I feel particularly cold-blooded.
"Cato may win this thing yet," she whispers.
"Don't you believe it," he says shivering, pulling up her hood and tucking her head close to his chest.
It is unbelievably hot and muggy in District Twelve tonight. Watching them freezing in the arena adds to a surreal affect.
"The cold temperature might actually be good for Peeta. Hypothermia slows down the metabolism," Mrs. Everdeen points out, clinically. Not cold-blooded, but I see its usefulness.
I glance over at the Mellarks, catching Mr. Mellark's eye. He clearly heard. I'm sure he is clinging to the hope she is right as hard as Katniss and Peeta are clinging to the Cornucopia.
We sit here all night, watching Katniss and Peeta freeze atop the frozen horn. Listening to Cato moaning, begging and whimpering in pain.
Vick sits to my left, nodding off now and again as the hours pass. Madge sits to my right, silent and alert. Rory sits a few seats over from Vick, between our mother and Prim. He hasn't spoken to me since we reached the Everdeens to have Vick's shoulder set. Every time I see him looking in my direction I can feel the anger rolling off of him in waves. If being mad at me helps to distract him from what is going on on-screen, then it's okay with me. I'll deal with him once I know Katniss is safe.
It's been hours. I suspect many people have fallen asleep, or nearly. The Peacekeepers make the rounds, rousing people as needed. I won't sleep. I can't look away. Not even for a moment.
"Why don't they just kill him?" Katniss finally asks, jolting some people awake.
"You know why," Peeta says calmly.
Because the crowd is riveted. Everyone in Panem is glued to their seats. This is one of the longest finales in the history of the Games. It will be talked about for ages.
~Friday, Games Day 18~
Peeta repeatedly dozes off and Katniss repeatedly awakens him. She shouts his name. "Peeta! Peeta!" Each cry like her arrow to my heart. She refuses to let him die.
The sun rises in Twelve and still we wait. Even the Peacekeepers look about to fall asleep.
Peeta talks quietly to Katniss about the moon.
Finally, the sun rises in the arena.
In the pale light of the rising sun, we can see just how pale Peeta is. Mrs. Everdeen looks grim, shaking her head.
I get up out of my seat, pacing up and down outside the rows of chairs. I can't sit still any longer. I have to do something. Fortunately, the Peacekeepers don't seem to mind people walking about, stretching their legs. At least it means they are awake.
"I think he's closer now, Katniss. Can you shoot him?" Peeta finally asks.
"My last arrow's in your tourniquet," she says in distress.
"Make it count," Peeta says, unzipping his jacket to free her.
She crawls to the edge of the horn, hanging over the edge. Peeta is gripping her legs for support. I'm gripping the edge of Madge's chair. Katniss searches the dim interior until she finds her target. She deftly fires her final arrow into Cato's skull.
The crowd is numb from the long night. Not a single cheer.
Peeta pulls her back up, enfolding her into his arms. "Did you get him?" Peeta whispers.
The cannon fires in answer.
"Then we won, Katniss," he says weakly, leaning his forehead into hers.
At that, the crowd suddenly reacts, jumping to their feet and cheering. The announcers are excitedly talking about the amazing shot. A shot that only Katniss could have made; frozen, and hanging upside down off the edge of the Cornucopia.
We stay frozen in the front row, waiting nervously for the official proclamation of victory. I won't believe it until I hear it. And see it. Not until she has been evacuated from the arena.
A hole opens in the plain and the mutts disappear into it.
Still we wait. For the trumpets of victory. For a hovercraft to take Cato's remains. For anything. But nothing happens.
The silence in the arena is so loud; it's as if the ghosts of every dead tribute are screaming from their graves.
Even the mockingjays do not sing.
An icy fear seizes my gut. Something is wrong. The victor doesn't have to move away from the final kill of the Games. Which means, Cato wasn't the final kill. So, the victor hasn't been decided, yet.
I shake in rage. Seething. I knew it! Liars. Murders. Madge covers my hand with her own, squeezing hard.
"Hey!" Katniss shouts into the air. "What's going on?"
"Maybe it's the body. Maybe we have to move away from it," suggests Peeta.
"Okay. Think you could make it to the lake?" she asks.
"Think I better try," says Peeta.
They inch down the horn, falling the last few feet. She helps him limp over to the lake, where they drink and wait for the hovercraft.
They're going to revoke the rule. And, Katniss doesn't have any more arrows. Even if Peeta didn't still have his knife, she's no match for him hand to hand. Even in his weakened state, it wouldn't take much. For him to kill her.
I think back to the one conversation I have ever had with Peeta Mellark. In the Justice building following the reaping.
"Mellark, If you kill her, or contribute her to dying and you manage to make it back here, you will wish some Capitol mutt had ripped you limb from limb before I am done with you," I had warned him grimly.
Little did I realize how prophetic those words would turn out to be.
"You really have no idea- if you believe I could ever hurt Katniss," he had said.
"She can win," I told him fiercely.
"God, I hope so," he had answered.
He won't sacrifice himself to save her. It's never happened in the whole history of the Games. No one has ever been that noble. He wanted her to win because he never thought he would make it this far. He never expected it to come down to the two of them. One part of my mind automatically begins to plot my revenge upon Mellark. How. When. Where. But not why. I know why.
A mockingjay whistles, startling me back to the present. The hovercraft appears and clears away Cato's body.
"What are they waiting for?" Peeta asks weakly. He's fading.
For you to die. Or for you to kill her. Whichever comes first.
"I don't know," Katniss says as she retrieves one of her arrows from the ground. Yes! She has an arrow. That's all she needs. The only way she can still win this. She doesn't know she's going to need it. Just an old hunting habit that just may save her life.
Claudius Templesmith's voice booms over the speakers, "Greetings to the final contestants of the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games." Contestants. He said contestants, not victors. "The earlier revision has been revoked. Closer examination of the rule book has disclosed that only one winner may be allowed," he says. "Good luck and may the odds be ever in your favor."
The crowd cries out in emotional pain. In distress. In disbelief. In outrage.
Prim nearly faints in disbelief, cowering into Rory's shoulder.
Freaking Capitol! I think I hate the Capitol most when it dangles hope before us and then whisks it away. Even though I never really believed it, even I had a sliver of hope they would honor it. If only because of the dangerous repercussions possible from not honoring it. Our only real hope is rebellion.
Katniss has the bow. And an arrow. She can't miss at this distance. She'll have to kill him. She'll do it. For Prim, right?
The thought crosses my mind, it is better for me if Peeta dies instead of them both coming home. Katniss will get over it, eventually. And she'll come back to me. I almost hate myself for even thinking this. Almost.
Katniss and Peeta stare at each other in stunned disbelief.
Peeta recovers first, struggling to his feet, "If you think about it, it's not that surprising," he says softly. He walks towards Katniss, slowly pulling his knife from his belt.
I'll kill the bastard if he kills her. He won't live five minutes after he steps off the train.
I won't feel hatred when I kill you, Mellark. Just an aching emptiness that I will try to fill with…justice. For love will have been extinguished…my heart dead. An empty vessel, refilling itself with revenge. I will fuel myself with it. Refueling by way of destruction. I will burn the Capitol to the ground. When I kill Snow, I will be consumed by the hatred. First justice in Twelve…and then a life of revenge. For Katniss. For little Rue. For all of the others.
All of Panem is riveted to the scene. The showdown between the star-crossed lovers of District Twelve. Exactly as the Gamemakers intended. Surely the most emotional end ever to a Games.
Except, they are not the star-crossed lovers. Katniss and I are the star-crossed lovers. It's just that nobody knows that. Including Katniss. Anyway, this is all just an act. A show. She'll kill him. To come home to Prim. To me.
Peeta tosses the knife over his shoulder into the lake. The crowd goes silent again.
Katniss nocks an arrow and points it at Peeta as the knife makes a small splash. He raises his eyebrows in surprise. Did he think she wouldn't kill him? She'll do anything to come home to Prim. The only person she truly loves. Even if it destroys her.
Katniss throws her bow to the ground and steps back, her face flushed. What is she doing? Pick it up, Katniss! She looks…embarrassed? That she nearly shot him? Or that she thought he was going to try to kill her?
Unbelievable. This has never been done before. This Seventy-fourth Hunger Games is completely unique. Because of Peeta. Because of Katniss. Refusing to kill each other.
"No," Peeta says. "Do it," he limps towards her, picking up the discarded bow and arrow, forcing them back into her hands. He's really serious. He's not going to kill her. He was telling the truth. He cannot hurt her. This is what he meant: You have no idea if you believe I could ever hurt Katniss.
"I can't," she says. "I won't."
"Do it. Before they send those mutts back or something. I don't want to die like Cato," he pleads.
He's right. They will send the mutts back out if necessary. Don't let the Capitol decide who wins, Katniss. They'll pick Peeta. The one who isn't acting. The heartbroken, selfless boy that every girl in the Capitol is probably in love with. Not the Girl on Fire. Not the girl who shrouded Rue in flowers. The girl who seems so...angry. So rebellious.
"Then you shoot me," she yells, shoving the bow at him. "You shoot me and go home and live with it!"
What are you doing, Katniss? You should have seen this coming. You knew you were going to have to kill people to come home. Peeta was nobody to you. And, you promised Prim. I made sure of it.
Prim is crying hysterically. Posy's been woken by the noise and is crying, too. Probably because Prim is crying. I sweep my eyes around. My mother, Mrs. Everdeen and Madge are crying, too. All of the women are crying. Except for Mrs. Mellark. She sits there stonefaced.
Hmm, most of the women of Panem are crying, I think. The Capitol has gone too far. Opportunity in that. To ponder later.
"You know I can't," Peeta says, tossing the bow aside. "Fine, I'll go first anyway." He says, tearing off the remains of his bandage.
"No, you can't kill yourself," she pleads. She drops to her knees and desperately tries to repair it.
Katniss, please. Just end it. For all of us.
"Katniss, it's what I want," he says softly. And, I believe him. He didn't even know her a month ago. But, he doesn't want to live without her. Extraordinary.
"You're not leaving me here alone," she declares.
Hey, you won't be alone. You have Prim. Me.
"Listen," he says, pulling her to her feet. "We both know they have to have a victor. It can be only one of us. Please, take it. For me. I love you, Katniss. Without you, I don't have a life. You have people at home who need you. Who love you. Think about Prim. She needs you to come home. You promised her you would win."
Katniss suddenly pulls the pouch holding the Nightlock berries from her belt.
Prim gives a muffled scream. "No!"
No! She wouldn't! She's not going to kill herself. Not for him.
Peeta grabs her wrist, stopping her. "No, I won't let you," he says with determination.
She whispers to him as they stare into each other's eyes for a long moment. I wish I knew what she was saying. What is going through her mind. Finally, he releases her wrist. She opens the pouch. Taking his hand she pours some berries into it before filling her own.
What is she doing? What are they doing? The Capitol needs a victor, so she's saying it's both of them or nobody? Bold, but crazy. They will never let her get away with it.
"On the count of three?" she says.
Peeta leans down to kiss her goodbye. "The count of three," he says with a sad smile as his hand strokes her braid.
I never kissed her goodbye. I never kissed her at all.
They stand; their backs pressed together, their empty hands locked tight.
All or nothing.
Two futures flash before my eyes. A future where there is no Katniss. And a future where Katniss is with Peeta. She just killed any possibility of a future for us with those Nightlock berries. There are now only the two possibilities. Them together or them dead. Would it be easier if she just died, rather than to see her with him? No. No, I want what is best for her. But, what is best for her? To be with Peeta? Or to be with me?
"Hold them out. I want everyone to see," he says.
Does she really believe she can't survive without him?
They both hold out their hands, full of death.
Two victors or no victor. Katniss and Peeta or no Katniss.
I thought my heart had been ripped out already, but the pain where my heart should be proves me wrong. The reality of her linking her survival to his feels…like a personal betrayal.
The Capitol is going to kill one of them. Or both of them. Or let them kill themselves. They'll never reward such a publically rebellious act by letting them both win. They can't.
They begin counting. "One."
She isn't.
"Two."
They'll both die. How is this a solution? How is both of them dying better than one of them living?
"Three!"
I am nearly brought to my knees as they pop the berries into their mouths.
Trumpets blare. Did someone win? Who? Who won? They are both still standing.
Claudius Templesmith shouts over the trumpets. "Stop! Stop! Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to present the victors of the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark! I give you – the tributes of District Twelve!"
They spew the berries from their mouths.
She's she's coming home…with him.
Well then. It's over. In more ways than one. I am numb with joy and despair.
Katniss and Peeta. Star-crossed lovers of District Twelve. Co-victors of the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games.
What if my name had been called instead of Peeta's? What if I had volunteered to take his place to protect her? Would we have still been the star-crossed lovers? It wouldn't have been an act on either side. Would they have allowed us to both live? What if we had been standing there, thinking one of us had to die? What if…what if… A thousand unanswerable questions threaten to consume me.
The crowd's thunderous cheers overwhelm me as Madge's whisper floats up to me, "They won. They're really coming home, Gale."
ღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒஐღ
Thanks to all of my wonderful reviewers for the last chapter!
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Only two chapters left, but a lot is going to happen in District Twelve while Katniss and Peeta are recovering and preparing for the interview and victors ceremony!