We Didn't Start The Fire
by FanficAllergy & RoseFyre

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Chapter Seven: Somewhere I Belong

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Last Time in We Didn't Start The Fire:

Looks like I'm going to be having a talk with my spouses tonight. I'm not looking forward to that conversation.

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The conversation with my spouses goes better than I expected. Rather than arguing with me or throwing up obstacles, both of them think it's a good idea when I present it. Gale is gung-ho and eager to join in the fight, and so is Katniss, except she's not physically able to just yet. Her schedule is heavily dictated by when she needs to feed Rain and her body is still recovering from Rain's birth. The doctors have prescribed a very strict physical and dietary regimen so she can regain the same shape she was in before Rain was born while still breastfeeding, but she's still not been cleared for the kind of activities that training to be in the military would require.

"I'm so useless!" she grumbles, throwing herself onto the sofa in our quarters. "Just because I popped out a kid doesn't mean I'm an invalid! Everybody's treating me like I'm some delicate flower that's going to break under the slightest pressure."

"I'm sure that's not what they're thinking," I say, trying to appease her.

She gives me a look that speaks volumes.

"Okay, that is what they're thinking," I concede. "But you should take advantage of it. Gale and I, we've got the troops covered. You should go for something else."

She slumps back into the hard cushions. "Like what?" she asks in a dejected tone. "They don't need a hunter. I don't know how they're doing it, but they've somehow managed to come up with food for everyone. Prim and my mom have got the medical thing covered, not that I'd want to do that anyway. I'm just not good at anything. I can't sew, I can't draw. And as much as you like my voice, Peeta, I'm pretty sure there's not an opening for 'inspiring singer.'" She bites her lip.

"Actually, you might be wrong on that," I say, considering. "If there's one thing I know from watching all those Capitol movies, armies tend to like to have songs that they find inspiring." I sit down next to her and take her hand. "But, even more, you could be the voice of the rebellion."

"The what?"

I run my fingers along the back of her left hand lightly, tracing the pattern of the veins under her skin. "Well, we might not be able to break into the Capitol signal, but that doesn't mean that we can't send out signals of our own that others can pick up."

She shakes her head. "I don't know what you're talking about."

I mull the idea over in my head, liking it more the more I think about it. "While the techs are working on breaking into the Capitol broadcasts, we can still try to send out signals to others. You could be the voice of the rebellion," I repeat.

"I'm not good at talking, that's more your gig." She leans her head against my shoulder with a small sigh.

"But you are good at singing," I tell her, bringing her hand up for a kiss. "And you can talk, you're just not good on script. We should talk to Coin and Fulvia about it, see what they think. We might not be able to break into the TV channels, but that's not the only way of communicating."

Coin, surprisingly, likes the idea. Thirteen isn't close enough to most districts for a radio signal to travel to all of Panem, or even most of it, but a signal should be able to reach District Six and it may have a chance of reaching District Twelve. Anything else is too far away, but if we can encourage more defectors, specifically from Six, it would help with the coming war.

Katniss is still a little reluctant, but she agrees to give it a shot, and the "Songs of the Mockingjay Hour" starts up the same day Gale and I enlist in training.

I wish we were there to hear her first broadcast, but we have our own job to do. Besides, I know that she'll do better without too large of an audience. And all of her broadcasts will be recorded to be transmitted later at varying times of day and at various frequencies in order to hopefully reach a broader audience, so we'll be able to listen to the recordings later.

But I can't dwell on Katniss. Gale and I have our own mission.

As is Thirteen custom, we're placed in one of the training groups, thankfully not Rory's or Rye's. But still, almost all of our fellow trainees are substantially younger than either Gale or me. There's a few other older people, clearly all transplants, but not many.

The youths eye us warily, wondering if we're going to get special treatment. I hope not, because that won't make us any friends. Which is the whole reason we're here.

The day starts off with a long run outside. It's drizzling slightly and the terrain is uneven, but for Gale and me, it's almost like being home. We're able to keep up with the rest of the group, which earns us a few approving glances. It's a start.

We lose some of the good will that we've earned when we move on to weapons training. Neither Gale nor I have ever used or even held a gun before, and it shows. The instructor has to spend a great deal of time correcting our stances and grips, and even then, we miss the target more often than we hit. I can tell that Gale is frustrated. He's used to being able to hit what he aims at. His family has had to rely on his skill. Having to learn this new weapon is a challenge for him.

But he doesn't give up.

He keeps firing and reloading until he's finally able to hit the target consistently. It's not a tight grouping, but he's doing better than I am.

"I thought you boys were all hoity-toity and great hunters," the lead instructor, Commander Pierce, says, looking at Gale's target. "From what I see here, you ain't nothing but a sack of shit. Worth nothing but for pissing and polishing my boots."

Gale nods his head. "You're right. We ain't any good with these kind of weapons."

The gruff man's eyes narrow. "I don't suppose you're about to tell me that you're good with that weapon in your pants, now are you?"

"Well, you'd have to ask my wife and husband about that," Gale retorts, refusing to rise to the bait.

"Alright, I will." He turns to me. "Soldier Mellark. Can you tell if Soldier Hawthorne's any good with any other kind of weapon?"

I manage to keep myself from smiling with pleasure, this is the opening I'd been hoping for. "Sir yes sir. Soldier Hawthorne is a crack shot with a bow."

"Well, you hear that, Soldier Hawthorne. Sounds like that husband of yours don't think much of the weapon in your pants. But I'm more interested in his assessment of your shootin' abilities. Get Soldier Hawthorne a bow." He waves at one of the other trainees, who quickly scuttles over to the weapons rack and returns with a compound bow that looks a lot like the one Rory gave Gale for his birthday. I struggle to keep the grin off of my face. This is a weapon Gale's familiar with.

Gale takes the bow and tests it out, taking a few practice draws to get the feel of the weapon. Finally he takes the proffered arrows and lines up his shot.

Thwick! Bullseye.

To make sure they understand that it's not a lucky shot, Gale proceeds to shoot four more times into the center of the target, the arrows sticking out from the paper like a seamstress's pincushion.

The instructor whistles. "I guess you weren't just eating horseshit. That there is a purdy groupin'."

Gale hands the bow back to the waiting trainee. "If you thought that was good shooting, you should see our wife, sir. She puts me to shame."

"I have a hard time believing that," the man says.

"Believe it."

"So why ain't she here trainin' with you two?"

"She's not cleared for active duty yet, sir," Gale answers. "We just had a baby less than two weeks ago."

The instructor nods. "Well when that girl of yours is all recovered, you send her on down here. I wanna see this."

"Yes sir."

The trainer turns to me. "So you, boy. Are you as good a shot as your mister here?"

I shake my head. "No, sir." I still wish I could use a bow, but I can't.

"Then what are you good at?"

"I'm not bad at hand-to-hand, sir."

Gale sniggers.

"Seems your boy's got an opinion on that."

"Yes, sir, I do," Gale says. "Peet here's more than good at hand-to-hand. Best hand-to-hand fighter in our district, other than his brother."

"You'd be talking about Rye Mellark in Group Six?" Pierce makes the connection. "I hear he's alright. You sayin' you're in the same league as him?"

I shrug my shoulders self-deprecatingly. "I'm not bad."

"That's for me to decide. Harrison, you're up." He points towards one of the other instructors, a lean woman a couple of years older than Gale with black hair and golden skin. Her hair is done up in a low bun and I'm surprised that it's not cut short.

She motions for me to take my place on the training mats before slipping into a casual stance, her feet shoulder-width apart. It's clear she's been trained, and she's waiting for me to make the first move. I'm not about to disappoint a lady.

I step towards her and we start to dance.

For a while, we circle each other, trying to find an opening. My reach is longer than hers, but she's older than me and I suspect more experienced. Back home in Twelve, boys don't wrestle girls. But here in Thirteen, they're a little more equal opportunity and I know that puts me at an immediate disadvantage. I don't want to hurt her, but I don't want to insult her either. I'm going to have to be careful.

I make a feint towards her left side, testing her and hoping that she'll overcommit herself, leaving herself open. She doesn't fall for it and instead counters with an attack of her own. I go on the defensive, keeping her hands and feet away from making debilitating blows. She is good, and it's going to take all of my skill to take her down.

I see an opening. She's over-extended her arm just a little too much. I'm able to grab it. Using her momentum against her, I throw her to the ground.

She rolls into it, coming up on her feet, ready for a follow up attack.

I don't press my advantage. I know that could be a mistake in actual combat, but this is training. I hazard a glance at the audience of trainees and see looks of approval and awe on many of their faces. That tells me more than anything else just how well regarded Harrison is by these young troops. My eyes turn back to my opponent with some trepidation. I got the first hit on the woman and I check to make sure she's not angry that some hick from the woods has shown her up.

She's not. Instead, she acknowledges my skill with a brief nod and starts circling me again.

This time she's the one who feints and I take the bait. A stinging wrist slap is my reward. She's good. I'm going to need brains as well as brawn to defeat her.

If I can get her into a submission hold, I can end this, but I have a feeling she's not going to let me. I spot another opening, but I don't dare take it. Her knee locks briefly and I could take her off her feet, but I'd likely end up breaking one of her legs in the process. Instead, I reach out and tap her thigh, showing her where she was open. She acknowledges the hit. "Good catch, Mellark," she says. "But you left your right side open."

I swear under my breath. She's right. In my haste to make my point, I did leave my flank unprotected.

We start the dance again, trading several controlled blows, before our lead instructor, Commander Pierce, calls it to a halt.

"I guess you've got some potential, Mellark," Pierce acknowledges. "Still need a bit of work, but you ain't completely useless."

"Thank you for the praise, sir," I say, and I mean it. It's not unwarranted, and more importantly, Gale and I have managed to earn the respect of a few more people in District Thirteen. I hold my hand out to Harrison. "Good fight. You almost got me a time or two."

She nods her head, accepting the praise. "Same to you. You need to learn to protect your legs a bit more," she adds. "But you've got potential."

I smile at her. "Thanks," I say. "That means a lot, coming from you."

"Don't make me regret it," she replies.

oOo

I'm standing at the door to my brother's barracks a couple of days later. We haven't talked in weeks. In fact, I haven't even seen my brother since we got to Thirteen over a month ago. I'm worried about him. We used to be so close, and now I'm not sure what we are.

A partially-dressed girl opens the door and I avert my eyes. "Is Rye here?" I ask.

"I think he's on his bunk," she replies, not bothering to cover her chest. "I'll go get him."

The door stays open and I see the woman nudge someone under a set of covers. I feel a little built guilty for interrupting my brother's nap, but this is important.

Rye gets up and comes over. "What do you want, Peet?"

"I thought you'd like to come meet your nephew," I say awkwardly. I wish this were easier, that we were as close as we used to be, but everything's changed and I'm not sure how to fix things. But I've got to try and this is the best I've got.

Rye gives me a look before nodding. "Sure, why not?" We head down towards the lower levels and the nursery.

"You don't have to if you don't want."

"Course I want to meet the squirt. He's family, after all."

I'm not sure what to say to that, so instead I say, "I was a bit surprised by your half-naked roommate."

"Oh yeah. That's Charming."

"Is that her name or your opinion of her?"

Rye laughs. "Her name. Charming Freeman. She's always like that. I think she's trying to hook up with one of the transients."

"How do you know?"

"'Cause she tried to hook up with me before I let her know I wasn't interested," Rye explains. "I mentioned it to my trainers and they just laughed at me. They encourage fraternization here, at least in training. Don't know how it is out in the field. I imagine it'd be pretty distracting."

I nod my head, not really sure what to say. "So, have you heard that Madge is helping Katniss out with her broadcasts?"

"She mentioned it, yeah. Your wife may be a good singer, but sometimes she's a little…" He pauses, struggling for the word.

"You can say it," I tell him.

"She's not the easiest person to like."

That's not how I would have put it. I would have said stiff or antisocial. But he's not wrong.

"We've heard a few of her shows," Rye continues, clearly trying to placate me. "She's not bad once she gets going, or if she really feels something, but she's not a good actress, you know?"

"No, I know." I smile, thinking of my wife. "It's one of the things I love about her. When Katniss feels something, it's real. She's not a good liar, so she doesn't even try."

"Unlike you, huh?"

"Hey. We all had to become good liars with Mom. Especially after Dad..." I trail off.

"True," he admits.

We reach the nursery and I scan my way in. The nurse on duty looks up and smiles, recognizing me. I'm down here as much as my schedule allows, visiting with my son. I still don't like that they won't let us take him back to our quarters, but he's still so young and he's only sleeping a couple hours at a shot. I'm not sure I'd be able to train during the day and take care of Rain at night without collapsing, but I wish they'd let us anyway.

I take Rain out of the clear plastic bassinet that they have him in and hold him out to my brother, who takes him. "Meet your nephew, Rain Hawthorne."

Rye raises his eyebrows. "He's not a Mellark?"

"We'll have one eventually," I say with a shrug. "We just thought it would be right, so this kid would have something from each of us. Katniss is his mom, I'm his biological dad, he gets Gale's name."

My brother shrugs as much as he can while holding a baby. "Hey, makes sense to me. You're the one who wanted to have the complicated relationship, bro."

"It's not complicated."

Rye just looks at me.

"Okay, it's not normal. But it works for us, and I'm happy."

"Yeah," he murmurs. "I see that."

Peering at him, I ask, "Do you?"

"Yeah. I do." He bounces Rain in his arms and studies the infant. "He's got your mouth," Rye says.

"Yeah. Katniss pointed that out."

"I think that's Mom's nose. Poor kid."

"I'm hoping it's not," I say truthfully. Our mother has a little pug nose and I wouldn't inflict it on anyone, least of all my child. "I'm hoping he'll grow into something a little bit more regal."

"He's beautiful, Peet," Rye says after a few moments, running a finger over Rain's brow. "It's just hard to wrap my brain around. You're a dad. You're married now, and a dad. Never thought you'd be the first."

"I know. I never thought I'd be the first either," I tell him honestly, looking down at my infant son. "But life is funny like that. And I wouldn't give him up for the world."

"No, I get that. I just always thought it'd be Farl first. Him and Reenie were together forever, you know? Always thought his kid would be the one who'd call me Uncle Rye."

"Yeah."

"I miss him, bro. A lot." His voice catches a little on that last bit.

"I miss him too. I miss you both," I say, looking at my brother.

"I'm not dead."

"Yeah, but you have been avoiding me."

Rye winces. "I just… wasn't ready."

"Ready for what? To have me back in your life?" The words are pointed, harsh. It hurts a lot knowing that my own brother couldn't stand to talk to me or even look at me for over a month.

"No!" my brother protests. "To come to terms with everything! First there's the Quell announcement and the six of us run. And just as I've given up all hope I find you! I mean, I thought you'd died and suddenly I learn you're alive! And married! To two people! And you've got a kid! Not to mention my girlfriend almost died and my brother and his new wife are both dead. And Thirteen exists!" He pauses, taking a steadying breath. "It's just a lot to take in."

"Yeah, I admit it's a bit much." He's not wrong, it is. But still. "But I want my brother back."

His blue eyes, our father's eyes, meet mine. "And I want my brother back too."

"So are we good?"

"Yeah, Peet, we're good. We've been good since you guys did what you did to save Madge. I couldn't bear losing her, you know. I've lost everyone else. Even a magically-appearing baby brother wouldn't make up for losing her."

I think about Katniss and Gale, how I'd feel if I lost them, and I nod. It's something I'm not sure I could live with.

"It's nothing," I tell him. "Madge is my friend too. None of us were about to let her die when there was something we could do to save her."

"Yeah, but don't think I don't know what it cost you." He narrows his eyes at me. "You're playing the game again, bro. I can see it."

I shrug, conceding the point. We all have to do what we have to do. "So. You and Madge, huh?" I've already heard her side of things. Now I want to hear Rye's.

"Me and Madge." Rye shakes his head in wonder. "Don't know how a schmuck like me ended up with a girl like her, but I'm not about to question it. She's amazing. She's smart, funny, gorgeous… She's really something." He pauses, gathering his thoughts. "She's a fighter, you know. Even after everything that happened on our trek here, she never gave up. Not once." He lowers his head, contemplating my son still held in his arms. "I don't deserve her."

"That's bullshit. You're pretty special yourself," I say. "You're the best hand-to-hand fighter in District Twelve. And you're smart and funny too. I can't speak to how attractive you are, but I hear that you're considered good-looking."

"Not as good-looking as that husband of yours," Rye teases.

"Well no. But then, who is?"

Rye laughs. "I'm in love with her, Peet."

"I gathered that. It's pretty obvious, bro."

"Yeah, but I don't know if she's in love with me."

"She left her home to be with you. She could've stayed. She didn't."

"I know, but… I get all these doubts. Why'd she pick me? Me, of all people."

"'Cause she loves you. It's as simple as that," I tell him. It's strange being on this side of this conversation. I know I've had my doubts about why Gale and Katniss would ever pick me, but they did. The same goes for Rye and Madge. She picked him and that's all there is to it.

"You think she'd be willing to saddle herself with a loser like me?" His voice is full of hope and fear.

"I think she'd be lucky to, but you're gonna have to man up. Don't make the same mistake I did and wait for the right moment to come along," I caution, reaching out to take Rain. "I still can't believe how close I came to losing both Katniss and Gale. I'm just lucky I had fate on my side or I'd never know just what I'd missed." I bend down to kiss my son's forehead, and the baby squirms a little.

"What are you trying to tell me, Peet?" he asks.

"I'm telling you to seize the day. Speak up. Let her know how you feel. What's the worst that could happen?"

"She could say no."

"She could say yes."

oOo

AN:

Written: 4/16/15

Revised: 7/22/15

Revised 2: 7/28/15

The title of this chapter comes from the Linkin Park song "Somewhere I Belong." It was a last minute substitution when we realized that we needed to split up the chapter because it was getting too long. And that chapter's title worked better with what we split off.

Katniss and Madge are basically doing resistance radio like what happened during World War II. Where FanficAllergy lives, she can pick up Canadian AM radio stations if it's a clear night. Considering that she's over one hundred and fifty miles away from the nearest Canadian border that's saying something. Radio isn't the preferred broadcast method, but it would still be used if for no other reason than military communication and emergency response. The books don't mention it, but we suspect that the Capitol does have various radio stations that broadcast music and play by plays of the Games and that vehicles produced in Six would have radios in them.

We didn't randomize anything this chapter.

Thanks for reading!