Updating one day early because I'm worried I'll be too busy on my usual update day to do so. Enjoy!

Thanks very much to firehottie, martatheinvisiblegal, Fire'sCatching, Ro-Lee, ForeverTeamEdward13, Randommmfanatic, vampluver19, and iiMuffinsaur for their wonderful reviews.

Chenmorr: Awww, thank you! Yes, please do look at my other stories. It'll help my ego~~~

Guest 1: You'll be hearing about Rain's reaction to the video this chapter…

Guest 2: I also want more Camber, rawwwrrr. It's just a matter of writing it in realistically. Glad you haven't gotten sick of them yet, hahaha.

Thirty-Five:

Ashton squints through the binoculars as he tries not to fall from his perch in a tree. "I don't think there's anyone in the stocks today."

"Thank God," Finnick mutters from below.

"You'd think the Capitol could think of punishments less primeval," Ashton sneers as he turns the binoculars, surveying the rest of the town square. Every day, their team takes turns periodically spying on the goings-on of District 12, as far as they can see. It's hardest when they do see someone trapped in the stock, or being whipped, or otherwise being subjected to the depravities of the new Head Peacekeeper. Cray at his worst was never this bad. And Ashton can't do anything to help them without breaking their cover.

He thinks of his aunt and uncle, Madgie's parents, and his stomach lurches. None of them have seen hide nor hair of Aunt Marj or Uncle Basil during their stakeouts. The best case scenario is that they simply just miss his uncle when he's out and about—Aunt Marj rarely leaves their house anyway. In worse cases, they've been sent away, or incarcerated, or…

Ashton doesn't let himself finish that thought.

The Victors' Village is abandoned, now that Ash's family is gone. The Peacekeepers don't even patrol there, preferring to walk threateningly around the town and Seam. Ashton wonders if anyone's tried looting his or his family's houses. All he had in his was junk, but he knows Mom, Dad, Emmy, Ceddy, and Summer had a few valuables and treasures. Ashton bites back his anger at the thought of someone ransacking his family's belongings and tries to fall back into a more tactical mindset.

His mind decides to return to his Games. Ash shudders instinctively, but before he can pull his thoughts away, several specific memories rise to the surface. Huh. His eyes flicker back to the Victors' Village.

After a moment, he shimmies down the tree and lands heavily next to Finnick. "You all right there, old man?" the Victor from Four asks cheekily.

"Fuck you."

"Sometimes I worry that you shouldn't be in the field just yet. You might get a hernia from all the walking."

Ashton punches his shoulder.

They return to their campsite. Gale looks up from where he's cooking sausages over the fire. "Anything happen?"

"Same old, same old." Ashton sits down next to Johanna, who's whetting her axe. "I had an idea, though."

Katniss stares at him expectantly. "Let's hear it."

The Sixty-Fourth Hunger Games took inspiration from very ancient mythology, and it was twelve-year-old Ashton's luck that he'd always liked reading about that sort of thing, from the limited books he could access. The arena was a labyrinth, and Ashton's sharp memory helped him navigate it with ease—as long as the Gamemakers didn't change up the twists and turns while he wasn't paying attention. He had seen many of the monsters and obstacles in his storybooks before, and most of the time, trying to overcome them the same way ancient gods and heroes did worked.

Conversely, not doing the same thing that mythical demigods attempted and failed also helped.

But key to Ashton's survival, just as much as figuring out how to drink from receding water and pluck fruit from distant branches, just as much as remembering the best way to kill a minotaur or a chimera, was going up. People never look up for some reason: tributes, monsters, everyone. The labyrinth's walls were high enough that you couldn't see the tops, high enough that the Gamemakers didn't set any traps on them because they didn't think anyone would bother or be able to climb up. But Ash was a big time tree-climber in his childhood, and he figured out a way. He slept on the walls, he walked around the arena on the walls, he shot down other tributes from on top of the walls.

People never look up.

Ashton takes out their holographic map of the district. "The Victors' Village is here, right? It's own little neighborhood, separate from the town and the Seam. The fence isn't as close as it could be, but it's close enough to the Village that we wouldn't be in the open for too long in between, and all the better now that the Peacekeepers seem to have stopped patrolling the area."

"We still have to get over the fence," Gale points out. "Or under it."

"And it's electrified nowadays," Katniss adds.

"Calm down, children. I've lived my whole life in the Village, I know what I'm talking about. Now you two like to cross the fence by using that gap near the ground over by the Seam, and that makes sense. You guys live there, and that's the exit that our dads showed to us, yeah? Well, Rain and I found another exit closer to the Village when we were kids. There's a shed that no one ever uses near the fence, and we'd climb on top of it to get over the fence. On the other side, there was a large tree with some sturdy branches hanging over the fence, and we would climb that to get back home."

Finnick studies the spot on the map that Ashton is indicating. "Okay, so we have a way to sneak over the fence if we need to get in the district. But we're supposed to be lying low. It'd be a huge risk to cross that fence, no matter where we are. You, Johanna, and I are some of the most recognizable people in Panem, and Katniss and Gale are locals. People would know us on sight."

"Rooftops." Ashton moves to another part of the map. "Here, the milliner's. They're the closest town shop to the Village, and from what I remember, they always have huge crates behind the store. It'd be easy to climb on the roof, and as long as we keep low once we're up there, we can make our way around the entire town without being spotted. Similar story with the Seam, and the houses are smaller so they're easier to climb. The only worry is that some of the roofs aren't structurally sound so we'd need to not accidentally fall into someone's living room. The only place we wouldn't be able to hop from roof to roof is the Village, since the houses are farther apart, but no one goes there anyway."

Johanna stretches her legs. "I love climbing shit, so count me in."

"It's still risky," Katniss murmurs.

Ashton nods. "It is. That's why we're not going to do that for regular old recon. Consider it a backup plan, if we have a compelling reason to go past the fence."

"Such as?" Gale prompts.

"I dunno, if it looks like the Peacekeepers are going to bomb the whole district or something? Saving everyone in Twelve is worth blowing our cover for. Not that I'm saying that's going to happen. Or it might. Who the hell knows anymore?" Ashton rubs his eyes wearily. They've been in the woods for a few weeks, and time is ticking until their unofficial deadline for Ember and Cedric to arrive passes. When it does, they'll have to admit defeat and go back to Thirteen, where Coin is probably waiting to court martial them or whatever.

Any day now, Ashton prays. Any hour, any minute. C'mon, Emmy and Ceddy. Don't let me down.

With an unholy cry, Clove tackles Bartel to the ground. The boy from Seven has been muttering mutinously about the strict rations for the last few weeks—like he did in that period after the fire-bombs—and just now, some of us could hear him complaining to a small crowd of other discontents. "This wouldn't have happened if Thresh hadn't half-assed an attempt at being a rebel."

More than a few of us exchanged annoyed looks, but only Clove was raring enough for a fight to respond. "Quit bitching, Barty, unless you wanna eat your own shit and leave more food for the rest of us."

Bartel turned red then, but he stood his ground. "Tell me I'm wrong, I dare you. The hovercrafts wouldn't have come after us and we wouldn't have lost the sled if it weren't for him. But all he gets is a verbal slap on the wrist? Come on, if I'd done what he did, you all would've handed my ass to me. But that's just typical of the seven of you, closing ranks around each other and having double standards for anyone who isn't related to you or kissing up to you or someone you wanna fuck—"

And so Clove is doing her best to pummel the shit out of Bartel as he tries to defend himself.

I can tell Cato is just as annoyed as I am at Bartel, but he heaves a sigh and gets up to break up the fight. Grabbing Clove by the waist, he yanks her away from Bartel and hauls her over his shoulder away, as she screams profanities at the bruised boy on the ground. Normally I would wince at the creativity of her foul language around the younger kids, but like everyone else, I'm in too grim a mood to care. Not even Ced, who usually blushes around words like "hell" and "damn," seems to be affected.

The only plus side of losing the sled is that we've been making slightly faster time, and we're not as tired as when we took turns pushing and pulling. And we've officially crossed into District 12 territory, which means we're almost there. But somehow, the closer we get, the harder it becomes to stand up on our aching feet and keep going. Even when I'm looking at the map and GPS with my own eyes, I find it hard to believe that we've nearly made it. We've been on the go and in hiding for so long, I'm having trouble imagining an immediate future that's otherwise.

There's a splash as Cato dunks Clove into the nearby river. She spits and hisses at him like a cat, but her real vitriol and anger have faded. Cato leaves her there to cool down and trudges back. In the meantime, Bartel has picked himself up and retreated to a metaphorical corner to lick his wounds.

"Maybe we should have let people leave when they wanted to," Cato grips as he sits back down next to me. "Less luggage, less complaining."

I reach up to thread my fingers through his hair—it's grown out over the months, but nothing unmanageable like the mess on Cedric's head—and he leans into my touch. "It's almost over, Cato. Once we get to Thirteen, this all won't be our responsibility anymore."

His eyes are closed as I continue to stroke his scalp. "Is it harder for you because we're in Twelve? Like it was for me when we were near Two?"

"Mmm...not as hard as it was for you back then, I don't think. My family's waiting for me in Thirteen, and that's keeping me going. You had to throw away everything to come with us."

"Not everything." He turns his head and kisses me, slowly and sweetly. For a few blessed moments, I can forget about everything else and just focus on the surge of warmth and electricity as I press closer to him.

"Ew, too much PDA!" someone complains, and without breaking away, Cato gives Marvel the finger. But the moment's over, and he traces my jawline one last time before we separate.

"Isn't it about time we all get going again?" I ask breathlessly.

"Yeah, just about." Cato raises his voice and stands up, circling around the group. "Get ready! We're moving in two minutes."

I get on my feet, wincing as I put pressure on my blisters. I look around to see if anything needs doing, but something catches my eye. There's a spot of color on a nearby tree. Frowning, I make my way towards it, noting as I get closer that it seems to be some small red, blue, and green band. It's hanging off a branch, just low enough for me to get a good look at it. Once I realize it's a woven bracelet, I immediately recognize where it's from.

"Katniss?" I breathe. Katniss, Madge, and I used to try our hands at arts and crafts on rainy days, and making friendship bracelets was one of our long-time favorites. Katniss always muttered under her breath about how lame and pointless it was, but she'd wear them in the end.

"Caw, caw," I hear, though it's clearly not a bird making those noises but a distinctly masculine voice.

I must be dreaming. I look around until, farther away and high up in the trees, I see two familiar faces grinning at me. "You've got to be kidding me," I marvel. "Katniss? Gale?"

Katniss's face is happier than I've ever seen it as she points behind me. "Want to let the others know we're here before we jump down and scare the hell out of them?"

"I'm still not sure you guys are real. Are you going to disappear if I turn around?"

Gale tosses an acorn at my head. "Does that feel real enough?"

"Em?" Cedric's voice grabs my attention. "Are you...talking to someone?"

"Um, yeah, actually." I raise my voice so most everyone else can hear me. "Hey guys, you want to come meet two of my friends?"

The rest of the pack is on their guard as Katniss and Gale come into view—except Cedric, who isn't usually touchy-feely but runs up to hug them—but they relax as I assure them that they're friendlies. Still, I can tell that some of them, like Cato and Clove, are tense. Even Marvel, past is amiable expression, is watching them warily. Understandable, considering everything we've been through, but this time I'm absolutely, one hundred percent sure that we're not facing a threat.

"What are you doing out here?" Cato asks them brusquely.

"Watching for you lot," Gale responds just as abrasively.

"Aren't you supposed to be inside the district like everyone else?"

"Aren't you supposed to be dead?"

"Oh my God," I mutter and wave my hands in front of them. "Enough. Stop. Cease. No arguing. We're all on the same side." I turn to Gale. "What are you doing past the fence though, Gale? Katniss?"

Katniss answers before Gale can further aggravate Cato. "All our parents had a plan to get out of Twelve if and when something went wrong with the Games. Madge and Peeta and his family are all in Thirteen now. So are our families."

"What about Madge's parents? Aunt Marj and Uncle Basil?"

Katniss looks uneasy. "We're trying to figure out their...status."

The heaviness in my gut tells me not to ask any more questions on this topic, for now. "So you went to Thirteen, but then you came back?"

She nods. "Rain believed there was a strong chance some of you were still alive, and she convinced the rest of us. We kind of...went around protocol to come out here and wait for you guys to show up."

"Who's 'we'?"

"Rain, Peeta, Madge, Annie, Cinna, and Portia are back in Thirteen. The two of us, Finnick, Johanna, and Ashton are out here."

"Wait." I narrow my eyes. "Ashton? As in my brother Ashton?"

"Yeah."

"But he's…" I struggle for the words. "...usually inebriated?"

"Ashton is very, very different compared to when you last saw him."

When I last saw him, Dad was hauling him off the train as he screamed about how we'd be mutilated and raped and murdered in the arena. "Good different?" I ask hopefully, anxiously.

"Very good different," Katniss confirms.

"I have to see this for myself," I mumble. In my mind, there are two Ashtons: pre-Games Ashton, who was my big brother would piggyback me around and boost me into trees and give me the best strawberries, and post-Games Ashton, who was...none of that. I know it's impossible for pre-Games Ashton to come back, and my brain just can't seem to compute that post-Games Ashton could have disappeared so quickly after a decade of haunting us all.

"We'll take you back to camp." Katniss leads the way, and I walk beside her as we do our best to catch up on the last few months within several minutes. As Gale wanders back to chat with Cedric, Katniss lowers her voice. "Gale and I spotted your group early on, but we didn't want to spook you by rushing up. So we were waiting to see how long you would notice we were there. I left you the bracelet and everything. Still took you ages to notice, but I guess you were preoccupied."

I'm about to ask why the secrecy when I remember what I was doing shortly before I found the bracelet. "Uh...exactly how long were you waiting there?"

Katniss doesn't smile often, but she's positively smirking now. "Trust you to establish a romance during a life-and-death situation."

"And Gale saw it too?" I moan.

"He was an entertaining combination of amused, disgusted, and in disbelief."

"Wait—disgusted? Why disgusted?"

"Career," Katniss says simply.

"You guys aren't going to tell anyone, are you?" I ask anxiously.

"We weren't planning on it...except maybe Madge and Peeta. Are you trying to keep it a secret? You two were kissing pretty openly back there."

"I'd like to tell my parents on my own time," I mutter. If Dad had been in their place, he wouldn't have continued waiting in the tree. He'd have jumped down and started reaming into Cato then and there.

"I get it. Do you want us to keep quiet about it from Madge and Peeta too?"

"For now. I'll tell them soon, though."

We arrive at a small, well-concealed campsite. There only seems to be one person present at the moment. His back is turned to us, so all I can see is his black uniform and shaggy blond hair. He's definitely not Johanna or Finnick—unless Finnick decided to bleach his hair—so…

Ashton turns around upon hearing our approach. "Did you two bring back a herd of elephants or—" He breaks off as he sees us all, eyes widening. "Holy shit." He jumps to his feet, still staring at us. "You're alive. You're really alive. I mean, I kind of knew it, but it's...it's not the same as seeing you guys. God." His hands scrunch in his hair.

"Hey, Ash," I greet quietly. Cedric stands at my elbow, watching our brother solemnly. Now that Ashton is facing us, I can see what Katniss means about him being different. Good different. His face isn't as gaunt nor his limbs as bony, which means he's been eating better and working out, judging by his muscles. His eyes are no longer bloodshot and hazy, and his hands don't tremble as he lifts them. He has the body of post-Games Ashton, but he feels more like pre-Games Ashton.

He takes one hesitant step toward us before pausing. "Hey...Emmy. Ceddy." His arms start to rise then fall back to his sides. "It's, um, good to see you." He awkwardly scratches some stubble on his chin.

To everyone's surprise, it's Cedric who darts forward, practically flying into Ashton as his arms wrap around his waist. Ashton reacts quickly—quickly than he would have before, with all the substances in his system—and hugs him. "You're back," Cedric gasps. "You're back, you're back, you're back."

Ash smiles, and I can see more strongly the ghost of pre-Games Ashton. "Yeah, I'm back. And so are you."

I step forward once. Twice. Ash sees the movement and reaches one arm out towards me. I run the rest of the way, my eyes unusually warm and wet as I join my brothers. "I missed you," I mumble against his shoulders.

"I'm sorry. I'll be here from now on."

I'm distracted from my disbelieving but blissful daze by the sound of a sniffle. It didn't come from me, Ashton, or Cedric, so I turn around. Most of the pack has politely given us privacy for our reunion, but one person in particular seems particularly moved. "Was that you, Glimmer?"

"Was what me?" she says evasively as she overly casually rubs her eyes.

"That sniff."

"Sniff? Probably allergies."

Ashton is grinning goofily as the three of us part. "I gotta call this in. Mom, Dad, Rain—they need to know you're here."

As he searches for the radio, I ask him, "I thought Finnick and Johanna were also here?"

"They're doing surveillance right now, should be back any minute. Ah, there it is." Ashton fiddles with the radio and clears his throat. "HQ, this is Soldier Double-A calling from our homebase for Operation Sentinel, over."

"Pfffttt." I clap my hand over my mouth. "Operation Sentinel? Really?"

"Hey, I think it's a cool name," Ashton complains. "Anyway, I didn't come up with it. When the officials in Thirteen found out what we were up to, they insisted on naming the gig, because calling it 'the friends and family of La Familia Abernathy go rogue' isn't professional enough, apparently."

"How did they find out?"

"Not sure. Rain was supposed to be our point of contact in Thirteen, but we got found out pretty early on. All I know is that we radioed in for Rain one morning and got Plutarch Heavensbee instead."

"Heavensbee?" I ask incredulously. "The Gamemaker?"

"Oh yeah, I keep forgetting how out of the loop you are." Ashton smirks when I stick my tongue out at him. "Yeah, he's really on the rebellion's side, and he helped mastermind loads of things, including the arena escape. Better than one of Coin's cronies, at least."

"Coin?"

Ashton looks like he's about to make another smartass comment but thinks better of it. "The president of District 13. She's...something."

"That's very descriptive," I say wryly.

"Let's just say Mom really doesn't like her."

"Now that's a good description."

The radio begins to garble noise, and Ashton turns his attention to it.

I turn back around to see Katniss and Gale awkwardly standing to one side, the pack awkwardly standing to another side, and Cedric awkwardly standing in the middle. These people. "I see you guys are all best friends now." I step forward to make introductions. "Like I said earlier, these two are Katniss and Gale, my friends from District 12. Katniss, Gale, this is...er...maybe one at a time."

I can tell most of the names are flying over their heads—fair enough, there are twenty-two strangers they have to meet—but I can see when Katniss and Gale deem it important to remember somebody. Katniss smiles at Rue, while Gale and Thresh exchange silent nods. Katniss and Gale's hackles automatically rise when we make our way to Marvel, Glimmer, and Clove—the two of them have strong opinions about Careers—but it's Cato who gets the most interesting reaction. Almost in tandem, Katniss and Gale clinically survey him from head to toe, an extremely judgmental glint in their eyes. Undaunted, Cato stares back at them, as if challenging them to say something. But before any of them can provoke one another, there's a small commotion in a different part of the pack.

"It's Finnick Odair!"

"Johanna! That's Johanna!"

The kids from Four and Seven swarm their respective mentors, who have just arrived on the scene. "Hey there, guppies!" Finnick slings an arm each around Ardi and Una. "I can't tell you how happy I am to see you both."

Johanna gently punches Bartel and Susanna's arms, with uncharacteristic warmth in her eyes. "Glad to see you guys alive."

"Guess who's arrived," Ashton calls out belatedly, still on the radio.

"Do I get three guesses, Captain Obvious?" Finnick snarks as he jogs over to Cedric and me. "Hey there, chickadees. Come give Uncle Finnick a hug." He scoops up Cedric first, who looks surprised but responds by returning the embrace.

"Uncle?" I repeat, smirking. "Who'd you marry to join the family?"

"Ashton, obviously. I'm the only one who'll put up with him." Finnick squeezes me tightly.

"You better not make any inappropriate comments," I warn.

"Inappropriate comments? Me?" Finnick lets me go. "In all seriousness, I am a married man now, so no need to worry about debauching me."

Johanna snaps her fingers. "Water Boy. Don't we have something important to share with everyone?"

"Ah, shit." All the mirth vanishes from Finnick's face.

Ashton pulls the radio away from his ear. "What happened?"

Finnick grimaces. "No point beating around the bush. There are...gallows being set up in the town square. And the Peacekeepers keep marching a woman around it. She looks identical to your mother."

Ashton, Cedric, and I reach the conclusion at the same time. "Aunt Marj," we all hiss.

"It's a trap," Katniss says quietly. "They probably suspect someone's out here. They want to lure us out."

"Of course it's a trap," Ashton mutters. "And we're fools if we think they'll refrain from hanging her if we don't show up."

"Ashton." He looks at me. "If it's specifically Aunt Marj they're threatening, then they probably suspect you're one of the people out here, don't they? Or Mom or Dad even?"

"Not necessarily," Cato interjects, moving to stand by me. "Maysilee Donner is one of the most recognizable people in this country, so by extension, people would also easily recognize her identical twin. Any rebel out here would realize whom they're marching around in the town. And the best person to get a reaction out of a rebel isn't a random resident of the district, but someone who shares Maysilee Donner's face."

Ashton looks askance at him. I quickly realize I don't want to make their introductions just yet, so I hurriedly interject, "Regardless, that means they suspect somebody's out here, don't they? So your cover's probably been blown. Could the Capitol be watching the area? Or listening in on your radio channels?"

My brother purses his lips. "Watching the area...possible, but unlikely. If anyone from the Capitol saw that Finnick, Johanna, and I were camped out here, there's no way they would leave us alone. But listening to our radios? Possible. We limit our communication with Thirteen, and we use code so no one can figure out our identities or location, but it'd be possible for someone to come up with a few theories what we're up to."

"The timing is too convenient," Cato observes. "They just happen to threaten your aunt's life on the same day we arrive here."

"True," Ashton agrees, looking curiously at Cato again. "Then maybe we're not the only ones who thought you guys might all still be alive."

Abernathys are like roaches. They never die when they're supposed to. Haymitch was supposed to bleed out in his arena twenty-four years ago, but Maysilee forced the hand of the then-Head Gamemaker—his career was swiftly terminated—by throwing away her own life. (And all for what? A fake romance? Some people need to get their priorities straight.) Ashton was supposed to be crushed in his arena ten years ago, one of the last few deaths so as to drag out hope for the young boy as long as possible, but the preteen's cunning was underestimated by the Gamemakers. And of course, Ember and Cedric were supposed to be cut down in their arena several months ago, and later, they were supposed to be destroyed alongside the other tributes amid the fire-bombs.

For many weeks, Snow thought he succeeded with the last two Abernathys on his list. They would have needed sheer dumb luck to survive. But it seemed the Abernathys were blessed with uncanny fortune when it came to surviving by the skin of their teeth. Snow's fingers tighten around the stem of his wine glass as he silently curses the ex-Head Gamemaker for not letting both Haymitch and Maysilee die all those years ago. Or for not taking the initiative and choosing one of them. Snow would have so many fewer headaches if the ex-Head had been more competent.

"But now it's time to cut off a few heads of the hydra," Snow murmurs. And this time, he'll make sure they don't spring back to life. The screen before him is playing a recording of Tiberius Wolfwood's interrogation. Attilus insisted on conducting it himself. It didn't take long for the father to get the son to spill about his encounter with his younger brother several months ago. Tiberius had done an impressive job of keeping quiet about it all this time; unfortunately for him, he was unable to hide the secret from his family, and Attilus eventually realized his son knew something.

Calculations predict that any tributes who survived would be arriving at District 12 around now—and if anyone survived, it would certainly include any Abernathys. And there are reports of the occasional rogue radio signal emitting from the outskirts of the district. Snow's men have so far been unable to find the source, but no matter. The signal pinged again earlier today, and the timing coincided all too well with the predictions about the tributes. So Snow gave the order for his trap to be laid.

However, Snow doesn't trust Romulus Thread not to muck it up in some way. Thread is efficient and merciless, both excellent qualities in a Head Peacekeeper, but he has a record of the occasional failure. If Snow wants to slay the hydra, he needs someone who will not fail him.

He leans back in his chair, intent on enjoying his wine. There is no need to worry. His champion is already on his way to the site of the battle, prepared to exterminate.

Rain seems depressed, and it terrifies Maysilee. Her daughter isn't acting much different from herself, after the Second Quarter Quell, when Maysilee thought that even though she'd survived the arena, she'd still lost everything.

When the Capitol transmitted that short video, Maysilee knew she was right to be suspicious of it. Snow would never send any friendly or inconsequential message. She and Haymitch were allowed to view it, and Maysilee wishes she hadn't. The sight of her daughter's fiance—the man she is adamant she loves—passionately kissing another woman turned her stomach. Haymitch was silent after viewing it, which was indicative of a far deeper anger than if he stormed around the room ranting at the top of his lungs.

Maysilee wants to believe there is an explanation by which Seneca Crane can be forgiven, but she's hard-pressed to find it.

To her surprise, considering how often he groused about his daughters' relationships, Haymitch was the one who wanted to refrain from telling Rain about the video. But Maysilee felt Rain deserved to know—and perhaps Rain knew something that would explain Seneca Crane's actions—so they told her, in as little detail as possible, what happened. Rain frowned the whole time, but it wasn't until Maysilee revealed the suspected identity of the woman in the video—one Drusilla Rosebrook—that her face crumpled.

"I'm so confused," her daughter whispered, and since then she'd rarely spoken a word. And for the first time in many years, Maysilee thinks of a girl called Larkspur, who she once thought had everything that Maysilee wanted.

Maysilee sits down beside her. "Rain?"

Her daughter twists her body slightly to face her, to show she's heard.

"How are you feeling?"

She shrugs noncommittally.

"It's okay to be upset, you know." Maysilee clears her throat. "Whenever you want to talk about it, I'm here. And for all we know, there could be a good explanation for why he—"

"Mom," Rain rasps. "It doesn't matter if there's a good explanation or not. Either Seneca wanted to kiss her or he was forced to kiss her, and both possibilities make me ill." She shudders. "I...knew Drusilla. Seneca's ex. He wouldn't have sought her out on his own. So someone—Snow—made him go to her or sent her to him. Snow's using him, manipulating him, playing him like a puppet, and I-I-I hate it!"

"Oh, baby girl." Maysilee holds Rain close as her daughter quietly weeps. "You love him so much that it hurts, doesn't it?"

"Y-Yes." She inhales sharply. "I feel like I'm losing him and there's nothing I can do about it. I don't know whom to be angry at, I don't know whom to beg, I don't know whom to take down. I'm just—I'm just sitting around doing nothing, just waiting to give birth. I can't do anything!"

"Shhh. Deep breaths, baby girl. That's it." Maysilee rubs her back. "You're vastly undervaluing yourself, Lorraine Abernathy. Don't you remember you're the one who figured out that Ember and Cedric might still be alive? Aren't you the reason that Ashton and the others are out there now waiting to see if it's true?"

"Yeah, but that was then. Now I'm—"

"But nothing," Maysilee interrupts. "We can't all be heroes one hundred percent of the time. It's okay to have downtime where you're not being active. You've already done and suffered and experienced more than your fair share, Rain. Give yourself a break. You've earned it."

Rain's cries fade, and Maysilee sits there patiently as her daughter's ragged breaths even out and the tears stop streaming down her face. Rain has just about calmed down when Haymitch opens the door and pokes his head in.

Maysilee stares at him. It better be good news or it can wait.

Haymitch arches an eyebrow. Neither, sorry. We need to talk.

She sighs and gives Rain's arm one last rub. "I need to speak with your father," she murmurs and then gets up to join Haymitch. "What is it?" she asks in the hallway.

"Good news and bad news. Ash radioed in that Ember and Cedric and the other tributes have met up with their group." Before Maysilee's heart can soar, Haymitch continued, "The bad news is he's also reported that the Peacekeepers seem to be threatening to hang Marj. Someone in the Capitol's figured out we have people out there."

Her heart sinks. "Let me guess, those idiot children are going to try to pull a rescue mission for my sister."

"They do have our genes."

"It's obviously a trap."

"They know."

"For all we know, the Capitol might be sending reinforcements to Twelve."

Haymitch scowls. "That's exactly what they're doing. We're receiving reports of hovercraft movement from the Capitol and District 2. They're definitely moving Peacekeepers over."

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Maysilee's mind clears. "There's no way Ash's team of five and twenty-four children, however skilled some of them may be, can take on a battalion of Peacekeepers."

"No, not alone."

They exchange glances. Maysilee straightens her back. "Right. If the Capitol is sending backup to Twelve, then we sure as hell are, too. Suit up."

"Suit up?"

"You don't really think we're going to entrust our children's lives to other people, do you? Come on, we don't have any time to waste."

For more details about the references to Haymitch and Maysilee's past, see my prequel fic Original Sin! I'll be updating that as soon as I get this up, so if you're following that story, get excited!

But, ah, confession time. I have yet to write a single word of Chapter 36. But surely three weeks is plenty of time to write one chapter? Hahahaha. You would think. *cries* I had a week off recently, but I spent my entire break working. No writing. Nada. Zilch. Very sad. Hopefully, doing all that work now will mean I have some time off soon to work on my writing again, but you never know what life throws your way. Orz

Soooo we'll see if I have enough to even send a preview in a week! *sheepish laughter* But please don't let that deter you from leaving me a review? *hopeful smile*

Thanks for reading! Reviews are love. And if anyone's seen the new Beauty and the Beast and wants to discuss it, let me know!