A/N: Yeah for the beginning of the Capitol! This will be a much faster series of chapters, I plan not to dilly-dally in the feels department because I like writing battle scenes. I hope it's a good start!

Chapter 37: Winter Garden

Callie took a deep breath and lifted her fist to rap gently on the door to the compartment. It took a moment, long enough for her to knock again, before it opened. Gale was downtrodden, sour, looking at her like a wounded dog. He was upset that she would be leaving in the morning. He had left the control room and gone to find her, but heard her telling Glory to get ready and decided against following them.

"Can I come in?" she said sheepishly, readily aware of why he was upset. It did not take much to figure it out.

Gale hesitated and crossed his arms, saying nothing when he moved aside so she could get by him. He looked her up and down. Calliope sat down hard on the edge of his bed and leaned against her legs. She watched the floor for a while to gather her thoughts before looking back up at him. He had not moved, just leaned back against the closed door.

"I have to go," she felt guilty, "You know I can't stay here, even if Coin fails me. I can't, Gale, not anymore."

He wanted to be angry or tell her she was wrong, but they both knew that would have been a lie. He had wanted to not believe her when she spoke ill of President Coin, he had wanted her to be wrong. Callie was not wrong, she was so painfully right.

"I know," Gale said in a hoarse whisper. He sat down next to her and felt her head against his shoulder. His lips twitched into a smile and he reached out to take her hand in his, just sitting in silence and taking a moment to memorize the feeling of her fingers locked with his.

Glory stood quietly in front of Johanna's closed door. She was slated to be tested in an hour or two, but had stopped her preparations when he came in and delivered his news. Glory was waiting for her to respond now, watching her still, blank face.

"You're leaving," she stated, "Tomorrow." He nodded.

Johanna's lips tightened and she knit her eyebrows together in concern, "You promised you wouldn't leave until I said I was better, I'm not better."

Glory felt the tug of a smile at the corner of his mouth, but pushed it away, "You're better, Johanna."

"I'm not," she protested firmly, "Don't you dare tell me what I am."

"You moved out of the hospital, your therapy is going very well, you even test to go into the Capitol. You're better," he tried to balance firm and gentle at the same time, it came out the way he wanted.

Johanna paused and seemed to be looking for something, trying to find an excuse on the floor. She took a step towards him, "Just stay here, say I need you. You didn't go last time because I needed you. Commander Cress can take care of herself."

Glory let the smile in now, reaching out to put a hand on her shoulders, "Last time is the reason I have to go."

She scowled and shoved his hands off of her angrily, "I told you everybody leaves. They leave or they die and you're leaving."

"Don't be like this," he sighed, already knowing this would happen, "I'll come back. I always come back. I have to go, that's my duty and it's why I'm here. I have to go because of you, I'm going for you."

Johanna made a noise of irritable dismissal and waved her hand with a bitter laugh, "For me. No, you're going because you're a good little soldier who does as he's told and never breaks the rules. Just leave then."

She whirled away from him to try and distract himself and Glory watched her patiently, "I am a good soldier who does as I'm told, that's right, but I am going for you. I want to be a good soldier who destroys the thing that almost broke you. I want to be a good soldier who tears down an institution that killed everyone you love. So yeah, I'm a good little soldier who does as he's told and I'm doing it for you."

The growing intensity in his voice, the steps towards her, made her turn around again to see him. Johanna had every intention of keeping her prickly exterior and shutting him out, anything to make his leaving hurt less. It was the sincerity in Glory's face that gave her pause, the sudden burning determination in his eyes. Glory was a patient, calm man. He was the gentle brook to her wildfire, but not now. Now he was the fire, the bigger and more real fire.

"I can't pretend like you'll come back," Johanna said. Her voice was quiet and faltered, her anger felt less, "If I do that and you don't," she swallowed, "Well, I just won't survive that."

There was a long moment of silence before Glory closed the distance between the two of them. He stopped short, reaching a hand up to rest it carefully against her cheek. He stood there, looking down at her, and watched the frustration and annoyance give way to something else. He wanted to say something profound or poetic, but words were not always his strong point.

Johanna did not stop him when he kissed her, she did not even flinch or move away. What she did do, though, was freeze. Glory thought he did something wrong when he felt her stiffen under his hands, the reluctance to kiss him back, but eventually she folded and did. Glory kept her there, lips pressed gently against hers, for what he hoped was forever before he knew it was not and pulled away. Johanna was flushed scarlet, embarrassed almost immediately by herself and by him, she took a step back and wrapped her arms around herself.

Glory said nothing else, not wanting to disrupt the moment. Instead, he turned and walked towards the compartment door. Johanna's voice stopped him.

"Glory," she was quiet and subdued when he turned back to her, refusing to look up at him, "Come back."

With a nod, Glory opened the compartment door and left her there without another word.

The last time Calliope had seen so many men mobilized was long before she had been made Commander of her people. Now, they all waited for her as organized as they could be in the now alarmingly small-seeming space. They were all rank and file, waiting for Callie's orders. She surveyed them quietly and looked over at her officers. Crowe's gentle motion with his head implied she should say something to them, but that had remained her weak point.

Callie cleared her throat and wrapped her hand with the two-fingered glove around the railing. She looked around, jumping from face to face and taking in all of their features as she saw them. So many faces looking straight ahead, waiting for her to speak. The excitement was tangible, electric in the air. All of them were almost jittering with anticipation of being in the first again, all of them born soldiers who just wanted to set foot on the battlefield one more time. It gave Callie the speech she needed.

"We go into the Capitol today," she did not receive any reply because she did not ask, just as they were trained, "We go in as soldiers, not heroes. We are the faces that Panem won't remember, we are the ones that history will forget, we are names that will be inscribed on a monument and nothing else," she paused for emphasis, "But that's not why we do what we do. We don't do any of this for glory, we don't do it for medals or commendations or praise from the people we protect. We do it because we are the only ones who can, we are the only ones who will, and you are all the only ones I would trust to win this rebellion. Panem is in your faceless hands, don't let her down."

There was a mass salute and a collective howl that made the pipes rattle. Calliope matched and dismissed it, another chorus of howls rumbled deep into the floor as they all stamped their feet while she walked. She found herself smiling ferociously and held up a hand to silence them.

"Be shadows, be vipers in the grass. Be the Capitol's nightmare come true," she shouted over the thunder of stomping boots, "Let's go!"

The mass exodus must have been a thing to behold. Callie would wonder at it later when she recalled the wide-eyed surprise and the clusters of whispering District 13 soldiers. Plutarch slipped through the ranks somehow and caught up to her, looking sidelong with a grin.

"You passed, Miss Cress," he said with a friendly shrug, "Not that anyone expected different-"

"With all due respect," Callie said coolly, she was angry with him as well for letting her exam take the turn it did, "I don't give a shit if I passed."

Plutarch was a little taken aback by her statement, but recovered himself with a nod, "Of course, Commander. I meant that to be good wishes goodbye and to give you these," he held up four Holos - one for her and all her officers.

Calliope paused and let her troops keep walking, taking up the Holos with a grateful nod. She felt remorseful for her snappiness, "Thank you, Plutarch. I wouldn't have made it this far without you, I'm sure."

"Nor would we you," he said with a smile that easily dismissed her transgression, "This rebellion owes a great deal to your soldiers, your pilots, and yourself, Commander Cress," he thrust a hand out to her, "Don't get yourself killed before Panem can thank you properly."

Calliope hesitated before she took his hand in hers. His grip was surprisingly strong, but so was hers. She smiled at him and nodded her thanks before running to reach the front of the long line of bodies again, a sea of black and flashes of red or blue or green.

The door to the hangar opened and there was a fleet of hoverplanes waiting and humming with readiness. Two pilots to each plane stood with their arms crossed over their chests in a salute. Calliope returned it and they dropped to a rest position. She paused and motioned with her fingers which plane she would be taking with her officers and Glory, the four of them handled the rest. Callie wanted to take a moment to say goodbye to Beetee, sitting in wait by the open ramp.

He smiled sadly at her and kept his hands in his lap, watching her when she walked up to him, "Off again with no goodbye."

"I don't like them," she said with a smile, "They always sound like I'm never coming home."

Beetee nodded and handed her a cluster of earpieces, tapping the one intended for her, "There's a message on yours queued and waiting. It's your mission."

"I didn't think I would merit a mission," she said and fitted it into her ear, "Do you know what it is?"

He nodded slowly and knowingly, "It's not really a mission, it's a request. And it's not from Coin, it's from me."

Calliope smiled at him and reached down to squeeze his shoulder, "I'll miss you, Beetee."

"I'll miss you, too," he said, resting his hand on hers with a gentle pat, "Don't get yourself killed out there, I'm tired of burying my friends."

His words struck a chord with himself, one he had thought he was over. It hit something in Callie, too, and she leaned down to hug him as tight as she was able, "I'll do my best, but I can't make promises."

"Goodbye, Commander," he said with a sly smile. She refused to say it back, instead shaking her head and walking up the ramp. Beetee watched when she took her seat, Callie almost missed Gale leaning on a stack of crates and watching the exchange.

She stopped and stared at him, almost unable to make out the careful smile and the two-fingered wave before the ramp closed. They had agreed not to say goodbye, they had promised not to do anything that could make either of them think they would never see each other again. Still, Callie could not be mad. Instead, she felt a flood of relief and appreciation.

Gale watched the ramp close and her face disappeared. There was an ache in his chest, a fear he was trying to ignore. He considered that she had been right about no goodbyes, but did not regret showing up to watch her leave.

Calliope sighed and fixed the earpiece comfortably against her head. She touched the bud gently with her fingertip and got a notification to provide voice verification, "Calliope Cress."

There was a moment of silence before Beetee's voice was quiet in her ear, hushed like the recording had been made in secret under a pile of blankets, "Calliope, I don't have a lot of time to record this….Good luck, you're going to need it. The entire city is outfitted with those Pods, it'll play out like an Arena. All of it meant to beat down the rebellion one last time. This mission I'm going to give you doesn't come from Coin, she doesn't even know I'm making this recording for you. This is a mission from me. It's from Johanna, from Lyme, Annie, Finnick. We spoke before Lyme went into hiding, we agreed we want you to be the one to carry it out," there was a noise in the background like Beetee was waiting for a group of voices to pass, "Kill President Snow."

It ended abruptly with a digital chirp and Calliope touched the bud to make it play again, but knew it would not. It would be on auto-destruct and all traces of the message would be eliminated. She stared at her hands and hesitated to ask Crowe her next question. She formed it, held it in her mouth, and looked up at him to meet his inquisitive stare.

"Crowe," she hesitated before asking, "What's Lyme's status?"

He pursed his lips and something in his face changed, "They say she passed away after a fatal shot to the chest after the Battle of District 2."

Callie took in his words carefully and considered them, "They say."

"They say," Crowe echoed and looked away, ending the discussion.

The planes landed just outside the Capitol in one of the outskirt villages, Calliope and her officers were led to Command by Duggar, the messenger she had almost forgotten about. As luck would have it, Duggar was a soldier who specialized in remote technological sabotage. He opened the door to a temporary cube-shaped building and gestured for them to go inside. A middle-aged, sluggish looking woman stared at a panel on the wall and conversed quietly with another soldier about a map in front of them specked with little red squares. It was a city map, a layout of the Capitol that Callie recognized when she spotted the big, trapezoidal Tank.

The woman turned and nodded at her slowly, "Commander Cress. I'd be glad to get you up to speed. Jackson," she thrust a hand at Calliope when the young commander stopped in front of the map image.

Callie shook it, "My guard, Glory, and officers Grouse, Crowe, and Pru." Jackson nodded at them all, "Bring me up to speed."

Jackson showed her the map and the outer neighborhoods behind the Capitol's massive defensive wall. There were tunnels below the city that wound through it like a maze, the Pod locations were as up to date as they could be, and troops were already deployed attempting to move into the inner city.

"Once we have this block here controlled," she circled the location with her finger and a red line traced the motion on the map, "we'll move the Command station and get closer to the Capitol."

Calliope nodded and examined the marks on the screen, "So, what are these?" she pointed to different colored dots that were in motion, but there were not many. They moved through the streets, disappeared and reappeared, and would stop or double back every so often.

"The different squads we have in the field," Jackson clarified, "We keep track as best we can, but the accuracy is spotty. We use the data in their Holos to locate them and monitor them, but the Capitol is still running interference," after a long pause, Jackson glanced at Callie's arm, "Apologies, we'll get you a Holo immediately. We've added a function to them, a suicide option," Calliope made a face, "The fate the Capitol would subject a rebel soldier to is worse than death. At least we get to choose when we die this way."

Callie considered Johanna and Peeta, what the Capitol had done, and forgave the drastic measure, "Seems reasonable to me. Now tell me, where is it you need me?"

Jackson smiled and laughed once, impressed, "Lyme liked you for a reason."

"District 2?"

"Originally," she nodded slowly and deliberately, "I was relocated after the movements towards rebellion began. I'm glad to see us coming together to fight this thing."

"Now tell me, Soldier, where do you need us most?" Calliope asked again, more jovially with a partial smile. She liked Jackson, the woman was a no-nonsense kind of person exactly how Lyme had been, or was, whatever here status might be.

Jackson and the fellow soldier identified as Quartz detailed the status of the city and the blockade Peacekeepers had set up along three of seven main arteries. The biggest cluster of dots was focused on one artery in particular and it was on that one that Calliope zeroed in.

"We'll go there," she said, "I'll take one battalion and we'll provide supports to this area."

"Commander," Jackson started to protest, "That's the thickest part, we'd like to see you in one of these smaller areas closer to Command. Those areas are where we need backup the most."

Callie considered her options and turned to her waiting officers, "Pru, send three squads and provide backup to this main combat zone. Grouse, Crowe, send two squads each to these other areas. I'll take the three of you and Glory, we'll go comb this area here," she circled the smaller residential region that seemed relatively low-threat.

Calliope had chosen the sleepy-looking region because of what it looked like on the map. Of all the main thoroughfares in the area heading towards the rebels' main access point, this one was the most sparsely defended.

"We'll move out in the afternoon, get yourselves some food and be ready to go after midday meal," she said. Without another word to Jackson or Quartz, Callie left Command. Glory walked briskly to match her pace, despite her legs being considerably shorter than his.

"Now it all begins," he said, almost with an edge of excitement. Glory had not realized how anxious he had been to be back into the field until now. This afternoon, their real battle would finally begin. Everything that had been worked towards would finally come to a head. Something about that knowledge was electric.

Calliope's feet hit the ground first. She heard the clink of boots on metal grating as they scaled the escape that lined the wall. Glory was soundlessly at her elbow and she motioned to her officers behind her. The street was quiet, the Holo illuminated most of the Pod locations until they hit zones where it was not clear. Those were moments Pru used her barbed staff to touch each square as hard as she could lean into it. They followed the path her staff laid out for them until one of the Pods burst open.

Calliope leaped back and slid the sabres out of their sheaths, but a thick, yellowish mist crawled out like a slow and ominous fog, "Masks!" she shouted.

She rummaged through the pack attached to her hip and pulled a nose mask over her face, checking over her shoulder to make sure the others had followed suit. All Callie wished in that moment was that it was poisonous to inhale, not poisonous to contact. She motioned to Pru and moved them forwards quickly, not being as careful as they should have been to move fowards. After the sector, they meandered through a forest of hedgehogs - spine clusters three times her size - lining the outpost where the rebel soldiers were supposed to be.

Instead, they saw tear gas clouds still in process of disappearing, shells that steamed in the incoming cold, then the bodies. A dozen rebel soldiers, maybe two, splayed out surrounded by still-damp blood. Calliope heard the slide and click of a rifle as Crowe loaded it and crouched down, Glory detached the mace from his back and mimicked the crouched walk.

It was the sweep of laser sights that gave the group of Peacekeepers away. Crowe dropped to a knee and lined up his scope, Grouse ducked behind a large block of concrete that had fallen from a building nearby. He put together the sniper rifle in a matter of seconds, fixed the scope on the shadow the tents and makeshift barracks created. Pru pressed herself behind one of the hedgehogs, Glory did the same.

Calliope walked slowly forwards, despite the hiss in her ear from her officers. She swept one of the sabers around in a slow circle passively, flexing the muscles she would invariably need. She moved past bodies, past rebels she may have known slumped dead at a meal table, past tents riddled with bullet holes. When the first Peacekeeper came through the mist, he met the sharp edge of her blade in a surprised silence, too quick to alert his comrades.

The fighting started with swift, terrible silence in the wintry mist of weather beginning to turn and the fog of tear gas beginning to fade. In a hail of gunfire and a sweep of metal, the downswing of a weighted mace, the spear of a barbed staff. Their Battle for the Capitol had begun.