Safe With Mellark

by MissBunburyHope

I know you love Katniss but she doesn't love you, and you know it. I wish you could just realise that when you smile, it's all I see. When you laugh, it's all I hear. When you kiss me, my world stops. You make me feel amazing and confused, like a beautiful princess and a child. I love you but it scares me, because I know that I can't and I do. But it can never last. She loves you.

26. Chapter 25: What To Believe

Chapter Twenty Five- What to Believe

(Peeta)

I can't believe that seventeen years or so of my life passed, without me even noticing. That meant I missed the first seventeen years of my daughter's life. Seventeen whole years. Years that could have been used to teach her to paint and bake, to see her grow up and develop, to see her laugh and smile. Instead, I am only allowed to see her, when she's almost a grown adult, who has never smiled, who knows nothing but pain, and who has never had a real father-figure in her life.

And I hate Katniss for that. She forced me to stay in the place where she tortured me for so long. Then, she kept our daughter away from me. My daughter. She made it clear that she didn't want to be associated with the young girl. The girl, whose life she ruined, from the day she was born. Only, when she said she would punish the girl for being my daughter, I didn't realise she actually would. She really is a mutt. Who could, other than Gale, ever love such a monster?

But, the thing is, that Gale had managed to keep hidden what he was really like. I mean, assumptions could made, as he spent so much time with Katniss, and it was far too obvious the truth about her nature. But he had never been in something like the Hunger Games, where everyone would be exposed for who they really were. No, even poor Willow fell for his false ways and I feel terrible for not knowing what happened to my best friend.

But I get no longer to think when I hear the click of a door opening, so look up, to see who is entering the room. Unfortunately, it is two guards, much bigger and stronger than I am- which is hardly difficult- but no sort of doctor with them. No doctor to make me hurt, no Katniss to ruin my life, no daughter to show me that everyone I love is punished because of who I am. So why are they here?

But I don't get to question it, as I am lead down corridor after corridor, in silence. And there's hardly any point in asking them, anyway. They must have been trained to ignore any of my questions. That, or they're extremely disciplined. And someone really doesn't want me to know what's happening or where we're going. But that's been the case for over seventeen years, I have only recently found out. So it's not really a surprise, I should know.

What is a surprise, however, is when I begin to recognise the corridor we are going down. I search my brain and come to the conclusion that I think we are walking towards where the interviews for the Games were held. I haven't been here for so many years, and, even then, I only came here a few times. How can I remember it, then? Surely, some things must have changed in the time that I've been away. And, if it's still being used for the purpose of interviews, why am I going in that direction?

Only, I don't really want to know. Because I bet it's another one of Katniss' terrible plans. She probably wants to hurt me badly, maybe even kill me, and then broadcast it to the whole of Panem. To show how weak I am. Or to show what she really thinks of me. As she might not have revealed her true feelings before now. But, then, what if it's not for that reason. What if she's going to hurt our daughter and broadcast that instead?

As I am beginning to panic about what could happen to the young girl, I hear the faintest whimper- unless it's a scream. I don't recognise it, so I realise that it must be hers. My daughter's. She's hurting and I need to save her, to protect her, like I promised. Only, when I begin to try to walk faster, to try and reach her, before anything worse happens, my guards grab my shoulders and force me to resume my previous pace. They must be working with Katniss. They don't want me to save my daughter, either.

So, they stop me, just out of view of the stage, on which my daughter is, I presume. I can't see even the smallest part of her, but I can hear every single thing she says.

"Stop, please," the broken voice pleads, wavering on every word. "You don't need to keep doing this. There's nothing more you can do. You'll just kill me, if you keep doing this. And, if you don't, I will. I don't want to be in this life any longer, just for you to torture me. I'm already so close to breaking point, and for what? What else do you need to make him believe? You've already ruined all of his past; he has not one broken memory. If you intend for him to hate you, as much as you hate him, it is already done; he will kill you.

"Just please stop. Stop this madness, stop this torture, stop this life of fantasies. His head is so full of lies by this point, do you really want to risk you going too far and ruining all your work? I'd be more surprised if everything happened as you want, rather than something going wrong. You're going to say something that can't even be supported by video footage, and then your whole plan will be blown out of the water. He won't believe a word of what you say.

"Soon enough, he'll remember what he used to think. He'll remember things that you didn't distort. There must be some things that even you couldn't take away from him. They've just been covered up. All your lies have hurt him too much, for now-"

The sound of a sharp slap cuts my daughter's words off, for just a second, and I hear her drop to the floor. I think I hear her beginning to cry, but, even through the tears, she whispers, "Just don't hurt him, please. He's already suffered too much."

At that moment, I finally feel the pressure being lifted from my shoulders, so I run as fast as I dare, onto the stage. There, my daughter is crumpled on the floor, but she looks more panicked than relieved at the sight of me. Even, she scrambles to her feet on her own, when I walk towards her, to help her up.

"Willow," I try to say softly, "it's me. It's Peeta. I- It's your father. I'm not going to hurt you."

She looks down, away, at the floor, as if she's scared to meet my eyes. Then, she replies, "Mother sends her...love. And she wishes that- that you see my dress."

I look at what she wears and notice that it's exactly the same as what she wore yesterday. "Why?"

"She wants to know if you can remember all her interview dresses. She wants to know if you can remember where the name 'Girl on Fire' came from," she tells me.

Frowning, I answer, "Yes, but I still don't see why."

"She made me the same dress," she explains quietly. "But, you see, it's like an illusion. It looks so cold and it's really not..."

"She made it?" I repeat, going to catch her wrist, as she walks away from me, only for her to snatch it back. "Willow, I don't want you to hurt yourself, just because Katniss told you to."

She falters for a few seconds. "I- I don't want her to hurt you, either. All my life, I've been aiming to protect you. Because you were the one who would help me, if anyone would. I want Katniss to see me as stronger than she actually believes I am capable of being. I can't refuse to do what she's telling me I must."

"Willow, stop for a second," I beg gently, reaching out for her wrist for a second.

Only, this time, she doesn't just brush me away. This time, she spins on her heel to face me. And, when her dress spins around her ankles, flames burst up at the hem. But she looks just as shocked at the sudden heat as I am. Luckily, though, they immediately die down because she didn't continue spinning.

"They weren't real flames," I state, although I fear another answer.

"It's because she loves to see me suffering from what she can still use to her advantage," she admits, finally accepting my hands around her own trembling ones. But she still doesn't meet my eyes. "That's what she wanted you to see. To see her hurting me, when she doesn't even need to be near."

A half-frustrated, half-something else sigh passes my lips, before I ask, "When is she going to realise that doing all this to you is just making me want to kill her more and more?"

I've been feeling her knees grow weaker as each second goes on, but they finally give way, before she manages to answer. So, I lower her down to the floor, following her down, too, and just sit there, until she requests, "Will you hold me, as my father? I've never had that before."

Only too happy to oblige, after so many years of wishing for a daughter I could hold, I lift her onto my lap and wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her closer to me. But there's nothing I can think to say, so I continue to stay quiet.

She is quiet, too, for a few minutes, as she rests her head against my shoulder, so I can feel her warm breath tickling my ear. And I'm beginning to think I should break the silence, when she states, so quietly that I can barely hear her, "I think that's the point."

"The point of what?" I question.

Tensing a little, she adds, "Speak quietly," before continuing. "You say all this makes you want to kill Katniss. That's the point. She'd never be stupid enough to do this. It's not really her."

"What? Willow, what are you saying?" I ask, turning my head to finally meet her blue eyes.

"It's all a lie," she whispers, her eyes shining with fear. "Peeta, Katniss doesn't hate you. She doesn't want to hurt you. All those things she did to you when you were a child, all those things that happened in the Games, all the things she's done to me. They never happened. Not one of them. She loves you, Peeta."

"No, she doesn't," I disagree. "She told me how much she hates me. She tortured me. She killed so many children in the Games. And you... You showed me what she has done to you."

I can feel her wanting to get away now, but she can't because it would mean her needing to speak louder. "I'm not lying, Peeta. That was never really her. It was someone pretending to be her."

"How do you know?" I accuse as gently as I dare.

"Because I was forced into doing it," she admits quietly. "For as long as we've been in the Capitol, Katniss and the other rebels haven't been able to get here. And we've only been here for a few months, maybe. I've been here all the time with you, Peeta. It's me. I'm your Willow."

Silently, I stare at her, for how long, I don't know. Because I can't really have spent so long hating someone who wasn't actually there. And I definitely wouldn't hate Willow, my best friend. I know exactly what she looks like. I wouldn't ever be able to mistake her for that mutt, Katniss, and especially not for a girl, who didn't exist before. Because my daughter looked so much like Katniss and myself; she didn't look like the girl I grew up with.

It takes me a few minutes to form words, but, eventually, I manage, "You can't be my Willow."

"When did your Willow disappear, though?" she challenges, her eyes shining bright with tears, as she buries her head back in my shoulder, to muffle her words. "She was rescued by the Capitol, at the same time as you. She was there to tell you about District Twelve, and she stayed for a few days after that. But she wasn't there one morning, only to be replaced by Katniss, just an hour or so later. Did you consider that there was anything suspicious with that?"

I don't want to admit it, but the honest answer is 'No'. I remember the overwhelming sense of relief when Katniss entered the room that morning, which was when any thoughts of another person- even my best friend- left my head. Of course, that was because I knew nothing of her true nature then. But, now, as I think about it, I realise how guilty I should have felt.

"After she told you about the birth of her daughter- the daughter you didn't remember her being pregnant with before- seventeen years passed quickly, didn't they?" she continues. "And, then, wasn't it strange that Katniss just stopped her torture of you? Too, your best friend was never allowed to visit, was she? But, when you were finally allowed to see your daughter, you even mistook her for your best friend. All of it is strange, isn't it?"

As she points out all of the obvious details, I begin to wonder if I really was that blind or if she doesn't want me to hurt her mother. After all, whether she's been tortured by her or not, she won't necessarily want to be hurt back.

"But you should recognise why it's strange, by now," she decides. "You should have been able to follow all the clues, to put them together and form an answer. Then, you should be able to find a common point in all of them. And you should see that it's your best friend. Your best friend plays a part in everything, and you know it. Even if you don't want to admit it."

"When did we first meet?" I ask, my voice cracking slightly when I speak, from the strain of trying to keep quiet, at the same time as I try to think. "If you are really Willow Safe, that is."

"It was before we'd even gone to school for the first time," she reminds me. "There was a wedding in Town, for the daughter of one of the launders and the son of a school teacher. Because they both had businesses, they had enough money to put a bit aside and save for a wedding. So they bought a cake that your family had made, and the girl bought a dress. Our parents were setting up, but we had both got bored, so they sent us off, to play together. We've been friends eve since."

"When were you given this?" I continue, touching the silver necklace I was given before my first Games. But I'm not allowing her to know that every detail of the story she told me is right.

"On the first day of school because I was scared of what would happen. It was my mother's, which my father bought for her, as a wedding gift," she tells me.

"A- And tell me why you've done all this," I instruct. "If you're my best friend, you shouldn't want me to hurt."

"Do you really think I've had a choice in all of this?" she replies. "Do you really think I've been able to sit back and just watch, as you've been tortured? It's tortured me, too. I haven't been able to sleep for months. But, if I hadn't done it, they would have killed you. Believe me, if I had had the choice between allowing you to be free from this torture and me being killed, to save you, I would have chosen the latter, without a second thought."

I'm silent for a few minutes, as the girl's body feels heavy in my arms. Then, eventually, I whisper, "Will you tell me everything you know- everything that is true? But has been...hidden from me..."

"Where should I start?" She sighs.

"Anywhere, please," I beg. "I wan- I need to know what I believe that isn't actually true."

"It wasn't a question," she admits to me. "I was thinking out loud about just how much is false. And how it's my fault."

Without thinking, I tighten my arms around her back, pulling her closer to my chest, as I disagree, "I don't believe it's your fault. If it's anyone's, it should be Katniss'-"

"You never ever interacted with Katniss, when we were children," she interrupts, not letting me finish speaking. "Of course, you noticed her on the first day of school and you said you fell in love with her then, but you were always too scared to speak to her. But it wasn't because you were scared of what she would do to you. No, you were scared that you would frighten her away, that people would talk, that your mum would hate you even more. Katniss could never hurt you and she never would."

"What about in the Games?" I complain, resting my forehead against her shoulder. "She nearly killed me so many times then."

"But she didn't," she reasons. "Surely, that's the most important bit. She didn't kill you. Not that she ever tried. She risked her life for you, more times than she put yours in harm's way."

"She did kill other tributes, though," I argue, images of the Games flashing through my mind, even when my eyes are open.

"Only two," she tells me. "She only killed Marvel when he killed Rue. And Cato's kill was because he would have been killed by the mutts anyway. She stopped the pain."

"But the nightlock..." I trail off.

"She didn't leave it out for you to find. You needed some more food, so she went out with her bow and arrows, whilst you went to pick berries. You just didn't know that they were poisonous. It was your own fault," she explains. "She wouldn't have tried to kill you."

"What about after the Games?" I ask. "I asked her, and she even told me that she hated me and still wanted me dead. She said the only reason she kept me alive was to get money from the Sponsors. She wouldn't get them, if I wasn't alive. But, because we were out of the Arena, we didn't have to pretend anymore. There could be a happy accident, in which I would be killed, so she could finally be with Gale, as she wanted."

"You came home and she told you that she wasn't sure what to think. She never said she didn't love you. She certainly never said she wanted to be with Gale," she argues. "Your wedding day was the happiest day of both of your lives. But, because you're both still young, you agreed to not have kids, yet. You said that neither of your parents would approve."

As she sighs again, I mutter, "But Gale..."

"But Gale's mine, Pete," she finishes.

I lean back and raise an eyebrow, looking at my heavily blushing best friend. "He's yours?"

For the first time in so long, I hear a soft sound, which I recognise as my best friend's embarrassed giggle. So I smile back. Because, even though I know she's probably only saying it to get me to smile, it works. She'll have seen all the terrible stuff that Katniss did and she's just trying to get me to forget it all again, so I can be as happy as I was before.

There are only two problems with that, the first being that I can't trust Katniss again, not now that I know what she's truly like. The second problem is that my best friend wouldn't lie to me. She never has before, anyway. Would something as serious as this really be the first time?

However, just as I am about to say something, to voice my concerns, Willow is pulled out of my arms by two heavy guards. And they look so big compared to her because she looks so tiny now. But I can't go to her side, to help her, before a hand appears on my shoulder, too, keeping me in place and away from her.

Only, as I stare at my best friend, I realise her terrified eyes are fixed on a point behind me. That's when I turn my head to see some Capitol doctor I don't recognise, who is, in turn, staring back at Willow. But she doesn't look scared. Worried, maybe, but not surprised or even considerably annoyed.

"Do you want to tell Mr Mellark the truth, young lady?" she suggests- although I doubt there will be little choice in the matter- not turning her attention to me once. "You know that you could have just wasted months of work, and you should be punished for that."

"I- He- He deserves to be told the truth," my best friend stammers, the fear apparent in her shaking voice. Too, when I look back at her, I realise that the only thing keeping her on her feet is the hold on her arms, from the two guards. "I can't lie to him."

"Exactly," the doctor agrees. "So why do you lie to your father?"

"He's not my father," Willow whispers.

"Let me rephrase what I asked of you, then: tell Mr Mellark everything you know you must tell him, everything we need you to make him believe," instructs the doctor.

For a few seconds, Willow looks down, her chest heaving with the strain of the pressure on her shoulders. When she finally looks up, her blue eyes meet mine and she tells me, "Everything I've told you today is the truth. Katniss loves you and-"

Her words are finished by a sharp scream, which comes from her mouth, too. And she's thrown to the floor, blood spilling down her cheek, from between her lips. I see her eyes shut, but her chest is rapidly rising and falling. She's still alive.

"That's what happens to traitors, Mr Mellark, did you know?" the voice of the doctors explains from behind me, hardly sounding fazed by the blood that spills from between the girl's lips. "When they tell lies, we make sure they can't speak again. And that was the direct order of your wife: Cut out the tongue of anyone who tells false truths about her."

At that moment, the hand on my shoulder drops, so I immediately head across the stage, to where the girl lies. Ignoring the words of the doctor, I brush a hand against Willow's cheek, as I gently call her name.

Although she doesn't open her eyes to look at me, she mouths the words, "I'm so sorry, Pete."

"Have fun with your daughter, Mr Mellark," says the doctor, as I hear her turn on her heel, to walk away.

But, then, too, Willow brings her hands up to her chest, to tell me, "They didn't want you hear what I was really trying to tell you."

And, as she does that, I know she's definitely not my daughter. She's my best friend. Only my best friend could talk to me in a language that only we have known, since we were five or six. It is one of the only things that I still have, which no one- other than Willow- has, too.

So, slowly, I state, "I don't want to spend time with someone who doesn't exist."

I hear the footsteps of the doctor stop, but I am too focussed on the message that Willow is trying to convey to me, to really pay attention to the other people in the room.

"Peeta, Katniss loves you. Even if she didn't always know how she felt about you, she never hated you. And she certainly never wanted you dead. She would do anything to protect you. She's owed you her life, since you threw her that bread. She's been trying to repay that favour for over six years. Saving you in the Games was just the first step. Marrying you, because she loves you, was the next. Sending you help in the Games followed on. Soon, she'll be getting you out of this state of mind you're stuck in.

"You know she was never pregnant. You know that seventeen years didn't pass, without you noticing. All those things you believe happened? You know that there's a real memory for each of those false ones, which has only been obscured. With Katniss' help, you'll be able to rebuild your life. She'll help you remember everything you can't. I'm just so sorry for being one of the people who got you in this terrible place, at first."

I know when she's finished telling me all that she needs to, as she reaches her hands out for mine, interlacing them together. Then, almost hesitantly, she opens her eyes to stare at me, which is when I see her terror, apologies and desperation up close.

Even though I can't believe her completely, the look she gives me makes me see how much she is resting upon me believing her. Which is why I repeat all that she has said to me, out loud, in my own words. What she is saying might sound like nonsense to me, but who is to say that it isn't true?

Who, other than the Capitol, that is? After all, isn't that what we were fighting for? Because we were fighting, weren't we? Fighting because they always kept things from us, whilst they gave themselves everything. They punished us for every small thing, even if they happened generations ago. And we only needed something tiny to spark an uprising in every District. That spark was Katniss. She believed in the people's rights in the rebellion. She wasn't a mutt. The Capitol made her that.

Therefore, when I come to my conclusion, I lean down to her ear, to whisper, "I know you speak the truth. I don't know quite how much is true, but I know that Katniss didn't come into this, wanting to kill more people. That was what she was trying to stop."

She's smiling ever so slightly and there's the smallest glimmer of hope in her eyes, when I lean away, but it disappears as soon as my hands slip from her hold. She watches me being pulled back and tries to call my name, before she sits up and I see her hold her head, the impact of moving quickly, on top of the blood loss, hitting her immediately. But, I can't warn her to open her eyes, to be prepared to fight for herself, because my mouth is covered as soon as I am too far away to reach her.

Except, when they do grab her, only one of the guards that got her last time gets her now. She's too weak to need two guards, as she can't even fight off one. And she still has her eyes screwed shut; it's as if she's too afraid to see what is about to happen, even though she probably already knows, or can guess. But she also keeps muttering things- only, they're things I can't quite make out because she says them so fast.

I do manage to catch brief parts, though.

"I'm sorry, Pete."

"I ruined your lives, for both of you."

"She does love you."

"It's not real.

But they're only glimmers of what she is trying to say. I can't work out all of it. And I so desperately want to. Or I at least want to say something back to her. Only, we have both been silenced by something that isn't our own choice; her silence is much more permanent, however.

At that moment, as if to prove the point that is swirling around my head, I watch as the doctor walks up to Willow, and leans over to her, to whisper something in her ear.

As the doctor leans away, Willow's eyes fly open and she stares at the doctor, before changing the focus of her gaze onto me.

She begins to shake her head, but I can momentarily not see her, when I black out for a second, as something is injected into my arm. Dark, fuzzy images start swimming at the front of my mind, but I force them back, so I can focus back onto my terrified best friend.

Noticing that I am staring at Willow, the doctor turns to look at the girl, telling her, "There's a message from your mother. She doesn't care what he," she points at me, over her shoulder, "thinks about her, but she doesn't want you to lie about what she's actually like. She wants you to stop making false things about her up. She wants you to tell him the truth. And she really means it this time. You're just making it obvious to your daddy how much you misbehave."

For a few seconds, Willow does not move, still watching me, as if deciding how to say what she must. Then, eventually, she tries and manages to wriggle her arms far enough out of the guard's hold, before he stops her. When she's done that, she begins to explain to me, "I'm sorry. I made it all up. Everything I told you that you didn't believe was a lie. I am your daughter, and Katniss is my mother. I just thought that she might stop, if she saw that-"

Her message stops as soon as the doctor pushes Willow's arms down, to her side. "Your mother said to tell him. She has no idea of what you are saying, when you talk with your hands."

Again, Willow looks so confused and so scared at the idea, so she doesn't answer for a few minutes. But, when she goes to, she mouths to me the words, "You know what I was saying. I only said it to make her stop torturing me-"

"She said to talk," interrupts the doctor for a second time, covering Willow's mouth. "She can't see what you're saying, so she wants to hear it."

So desperate to speak now, it seems, after the doctor takes her hand away, that she moves her mouth and tries to make a noise, but nothing that makes sense happens. Therefore, after a few attempts, she just gives up and drops her head.

When she does that, I begin to struggle, trying to get out of the tight hold that is keeping me from helping the girl in front of me. Whether she's my daughter or my best friend, I still care for her. I can't just sit back and watch, as whatever will happen happens. Especially not if there's something I can do.

But I'm still struggling, without anything having changed, when the doctor looks at Willow. She's trying to look sympathetic, shocked, even, but it can't be seen beneath the smirk that is more prominent. And it makes it even worse when she adds, "In that case, orders are orders. Miss Mellark, your mother sentences you to death, on account of you lying."

As the doctor says that, Willow's face drops and she begins squirming, to try and get away. But she can't. They've got her too tightly. They already knew she would try to get away. She's just using up all her remaining energy for nothing. And, so, she stops trying to get away all too soon. She just hangs limply in the guard's arms and cries. She can't even look at me. It's like she's worried that I'll be disappointed in her. But I'm not.

To show her how much I'm not disappointed in her and how much I care for her, I try to get to her, too. But I can move as much as she can. Which means, when she cries, I do the same. Except, instead of shutting my eyes to avoid looking at her, I shut my eyes so I can imagine Katniss. Then, I silently beg her to free Willow. Because I can't say it aloud. And I want to anything and everything to save her.

But I know I can't stay like that forever. Eventually, something will happen. What if I miss it, then, because my eyes are shut? So, after I have begged as much as is physically possible, I force my eyes open. And I hate the scene that is in front of me.

Willow is tied up to something, so tightly that she can't move. But she's too weak to, anyway. So she still hangs her head, as she continues to cry. And I can see her lips forming things I can't make out. The only sound she makes that I can hear, though, is the occasional sniffle, when the tears get too much. But, obviously, she can't say anything.

Once Willow is tied in place, the doctor walks up to her, to lift up her chin. Then, she reminds her, "Your mother wants you to be killed by the same thing that brought her any power. And she wishes for me to tell you that no amount of tears will stop the flames."

At that comment, Willow begins shaking her head, trying to get away. Through everything else, she seemed so strong. But not now. And she has every right not to be. She's about to be murdered for something she couldn't help. She was trying to protect me. And I can do nothing to thank her. Nothing, but staying away and watching. Because she's being killed in one of the most slow and painful ways possible.

First, they begin to spin the podium thing, on which she stands. When they do that, the flames that erupted from her dress earlier return. This time, they don't go. As she keeps spinning, the flames keep spreading. They climb further up her dress, engulfing her body, as smoke begins to rise, too. Then, when I begin to think it would be a silent death, I hear her scream. And it breaks me. Because I know how much it's paining her.

The smoke and flames keep her obscured from my sight, but I can still hear her. And the screams gone on for so long. Each one full of more and more pain, desperation for it to just quickly end, and apologies, than the last. Until she falls silent. Which is when I begin to struggle most of all, to try and get to her. Because, even though she's stopped all sounds, the flames are still going. And that means she's still being killed.

I feel that I am about to get free, when the sharp pain of another needle is forced into my arm. Immediately, I begin to go limp, my vision going fuzzy, but I don't pass out completely.

No, first I just about see the flames stop, as the doctor announces, "The girl is dead. Mr Mellark, your wife just murdered your only daughter."

Then, I try to look at where Willow was standing, but I don't manage to. Because the doctor falls in my line of view. And so do the two guards around me.

The last thing I remember, before blacking out completely, is a group of people, carrying simple guns, running into the room. Only, they drop the guns at the sight of me. And they run to help me up. Except one. Who runs to where Willow was. Then, breaks down at the sight of nothing left there. He does my job. Because I can't do it. Someone else has to mourn my daughter. Or best friend.

---

Author's Note: I don't want to spend too long on it, but, yes, this was the final chapter of Safe With Mellark. Although, of course, there is still the sequel to come- although the summary is still a work-in-progress.

She had been beaten, tortured, and had her tongue cut out; finally, she was going to be burnt alive. Her name was Willow Safe, Peeta's best friend, and there was nothing she would not do to help the rebellion.

The sequel will be, hopefully, what would happen, if the rebels were to turn up, to the Capitol, five minutes sooner. But I will post the first chapter of it next week, at the same time as I post the epilogue of this.

Only one review last chapter? :(

aftermockingjay: I'm glad you still think so!

Anyway, I don't know if any of you were expecting this ending- I kind of hope not- but please, please, pleeease review to let me know what you thought! It's the last chapter, and I know there are lots of you who read this, so it would make my day, if you were to review! I really want to know what you thought, and I'd really like to know how many reviews this story is capable of getting...

But thank you all for being so loyal readers. I love you all! Thank you all so much!