Chapter 52

Jay's story

"Katniss, the Decepticons and Dark Peacekeepers have been successfully routed!" General Summers says excitedly as we are ushered into the hastily set-up command camp. We are in a sprawling camp of supplies and aid stations, which will serve as the backbone for the clean-up process. "The Autobots have captured them, and in the other Districts, what left of the rascals have been rounded up. The Dark Acolytes and other demonic elements on Athena's army are nowhere to be seen, but we will continue to have a lookout for them. But otherwise, we can safely say that the war is over. Panem is secured and free from the Decepticons."

"I have never seen such a successful campaign as this." Optimus Prime, the Autobot leader declares. "Many planets where we battled against the vile Decepticons have mostly been torn apart, sometimes to the brink of total extermination, but I find the humans very, very different. I must say, thank you, all of you, for you have all proven your mettle. I hope to see more outstanding individuals like you." And he clearly winks at me.

"I didn't exactly do anything," I protest. "I just flew around and shot some slack."

Optimus chuckles and says, "Jay, be assured that no deed is too small or too big as long as it was done for the benefit of the greater good. But to give credit, you are worth ten of us. Thank you for your service."

With the official pleasantries done, mum and I head off the find Bagel and the others. We find them in the train station. Effie is fussing over Haymitch with utmost affection, who is bandaged over the head and sipping hot coffee, courtesy of the aid workers. "Look who's here!" he beams when he spots mum. "I'm surprised you aren't drunk." mum replies mischeviously. "Well, I get drunk when I want to." he pouts. "But at least by now, I know my limit." Then he takes out a flask of whisky and pours it into his coffee so much that it overflows.

"Haymitch, you don't drink coffee with alcohol!" Effie exclaims. "That is mahogany."

"Since I'm alive today despite Panem nearly going to hell, I'll try it." He does and the result is a violent convulsion.

As Haymitch is whisked off on a stretcher followed by a wailing Effie, mum merely shakes her head and says, "Same old Haymitch. Never changes even a bit."

My heart beats a little faster when I spot my father with Bagel, Uncle Gale and Thorn. They are sitting near some wooden crates over coffee and buns. I wonder how they would react in the presence of the resurrected Mockingjay, or even what mum would do. Bagel surprises me pleasantly when he runs into our mother's arms. "Bagel, how tall you are!" mum croons. "It's so long, so long."

"I miss you mum." Bagel cannot keep his tears in.

"You are a good boy." mum says. "You took care of your sister and dad."

"But she can't eat cheese buns." Bagel says rather apologetically. I cannot help but laugh. Having inbuilt cyborg systems, how could I? Mum seems to know this, as she doesn't question me about it.

She gives Uncle Gale a friendly punch and her former hunting partner says, "What were doing all these years, Catnip?"

"I was training to be some kind of enforcer." she says. Even Thorn and I look confused at her statement. "More about that later, I promise." mum says curtly. "It's a long story, you see."

"I have a feeling that I shouldn't know what she went through." Thorn whispers to me. "Why not?" I ask. "Err...just a feeling." he reasons stammeringly. "You mean you're worried about the 'ask-no-questions-and-I-will-tell-no-lies' thingy, is it?" I say.

"Yeah, maybe." he says. "It sounds kind of mysterious."

"Save the mystery for later. That can wait." I whisper back to him, as I see mum and dad meet together after so many years.

Dad at first seems suspicious. He looks mum all over and touches her hands gingerly. "It's me, Peeta." mum says.

"Katniss, is it you?" he whispers.

His questioning blue eyes meet her brown honest eyes. Something unseen somehow clicks between them as they just embrace each other, crying even harder than I ever did.

"Katniss, why did you go away from us?" my dad just sobs. The mere sight of my dad bawling just melts my heart and washes away all those years of bitterness and anger. As my mother lovingly whispers some inaudible words, that I can only squeamishly describe as 'lover's language', I somehow feel those instincts of distrust and suspicion against my own father vanish, never to be seen again. When my mum is back, everything is made right. Everything is made anew. The dark night is gone, the harsh dream vanquished, the dawn broken. Every sense of vengeance and every distaste for every curse uttered from my dad's lips is gone.

I somehow know I can make amends with my father, so matter how bad-tempered he may be. But I guess his attitude is subject to change. After all, he got his dandelion back.

When the two lovers have finished crying, they kiss so intensely and passionately that everyone else, me included feels awkward. Uncle Gale sighs with admiration while Thorn and I turn away, tremendously abashed. And Bagel, well I don't know...

"Damn...the power of lovvveee..." a half-drunk Haymitch pretends to shield from my parents, out of jest, as if there really were a powerful aura of energy radiating from them.

Thorn and I chuckle, greatly amused. Then we make the mistake of turning around to see whether they are done.

My dad has somehow got the strength to scoop mum up and pepper her lips and neck with kisses. And she's kissing back as hungrily as a bear who just woke up after an entire season of hibernation.

"I hope I don't do that next time." Thorn groans.

"Tell me about it!" I say, feeling even more squeamish than my mum when she had to bath dad in the 74th Hunger Games.


One month later...

Take a stroll in the Capitol today, and you won't find a trace of any battle with humongous robots.

Panem has amazingly recovered quickly from a war that took nearly half as much lives as the Rebellion. But I guess the citizens of Panem have seen enough of life and death to know when to bury the dead with solemness, comfort the grieving with tenderness and rebuild amidst the ruins with a greater hope. It's extraordinary, really, looking back at the history of Panem. We have been suffering from wars, revolutions and invasions ever since our forefathers called this place as America, the land of freedom. And I'm sure this place we call home will continue to be the land of freedom.

We needn't do much cleaning up after Athena's army disintegrated into disarray. Much of them turned up and surrendered. The Dark Peacekeepers were tried and brought to justice, their bases destroyed. The Terrorcons and Decepticons were shipped back to Cybertron to await their trials under the Autobot High Council. Last week, the Autobots parted from us with a friendly promise that they would be ready to offer assistance of any sorts again, should the future allow it.

But I suspect that not all Autobots left our planet. I thought I saw Slag,one of the Dinobots, rolling down a hill for fun when Thorn and I were exploring a new hunting route that brought us near a short mountain range. They are hiding, waiting in plain sight for the next outbreak of evil. I have to give credit to these warriors of steel that dedicate eons to protect innocents from such evil as the Decepticons.

But I sincerely pray that these faithful warriors can live to see a day when they can return home to their planet and live in peace, to flourish without the fear of the threat of evil. After all, no species was ever created for warfare.

I literally leap up and whoop when Pascal Latier announces that he has figured out how to replace my present systems with a more human-friendly measure. My earlier internal injuries and burns have clearly been healed, so there was no reason for him to keep the Mockingjay as a cyborg more than as a human. I mean I had to depend on inbuilt neurals and my Mockingjay amour so much for performance that I could be taken down dangerously if either were damaged, as my encounter with the deceased Athena Snow showed.

These days, when I do 'weaponised' training, my Mockingjay suit is more of a suit than an armour. But I'm glad to say that I somehow still have my psi powers and I can finally eat cheese buns.

Did I say that I do like many of the same things as my mother does?

"But I still don't understand how you retained your psi powers even without the suit," Pascal says as I hop out of the strap-chair. "to tell you the truth this program is still highly risky and much of your systems were prototypes."

"Evolution?" I suggest. "Not to say that humans did come from monkeys, but maybe I adapted to the tough battle conditions, and gained this ability."

"That'll be something to look at." Pascal says thoughtfully. "All the same, much of the suit performance has to be contributed to the user."

"Thanks, Pascal." I smile at his subtle appreciation. I just enjoy working with him.

Last I heard of Jesse, my fighting partner, he took his weapons and some supplies before heading out to the wilderness. I feel too bad that I didn't get to say goodbye to him. But he left a note for me in his quarters:

"Always the best of friends. Have a good life. You'll do well without me."

-Jesse

The whole of Panem rejoiced not only with the troublesome scoundrels of Athena gone, but with my mother's return. For a week she was totally buzzed by thousands of her ardent fans from all over Panem and from abroad. President Paylor met with her privately to ask about her whereabouts all those years. I guess she must have told her the full story, as Paylor came out looking puzzled. The official statement was that the Mockingjay had been cyrogenically frozen and treated to run secret missions. Well, mum did say she went on an important mission, so its not really a lie. But you've got to understand that many of the people will not understand such questionable issues like the real facts of the afterlife, especially if the government spills it out.

OK, I know you can't understand while Paylor didn't spill the beans fully, but you aren't the President of Panem.

Meanwhile, life at home has become happier. The kitchen now smells of cheese buns, mum's favourite confectionary, courtesy of Bagel. Mum and dad wake up later than us and sometimes, to be honest, I am awakened at night by laughter from their room or even a scream. Of passion. I really don't want to know what they are doing there!

Dad smiles more often, especially with mum around at his side. He is the father of my early childhood, the father who comes up with delightful surprises to make my day and is generous with praises. Yesterday he made waffles, something brand new to me. Its absolutely chewy and some coffee flavour immobilizes my taste buds. That's going to be the top of my favourite breads list after cheese buns.

I must admit further that I spend most of these days not only with my family, but also attempting to catch mum and dad on their romantic activities. I don't mean the one in the bedroom, PLEASE! The other day I peaked through the keyhole of dad's painting room, only to catch him painting with mum as the nude model.

I couldn't look at them properly at dinner that night. I guess there's a reason dad locks his painting room.

But what mum really likes to do after dinner is to sit on dad's lap in the rocking chair at the porch, humming gently. As mum rests against his chest, he would be playing with her braids. Sometimes she would doze off and dad would carry her to bed. And they would wake up much latter the next day.

I have to say if you want to look for a perfect couple, there are my parents to examine.

And don't start throwing up in front of them. I understand your squeamishness.

"Jay!" my mum calls out. "The Astronomy Department announced that there'll be a comet!"

I froze and say, "Not Decepticons!"

"No, Jay." mum says. "If they were, well you'll have to go to work."

I laugh and join my family in the meadow, which is filled with others sitting on picnic mats, chattering or observing the night sky with telescopes. The atmosphere is slightly brightened by a few lamps and is simply heartwarming, a refreshing change from hours of explosive action against Athena. We find an old man chugging down whisky by himself in the middle of the meadow.

"Hey, Haymitch." dad says. "Not bringing Effie with you?"

"She's gone to get popcorn." he muses. "I keep telling her, who eats popcorn when watching shooting stars? This ain't a movie!"

"You don't mind us joining you?" Peeta asks. "Sure, sure. More's the merrier." Haymitch says. So we sit down and wait for the comet.

"Ya know, Bread Boy. I didn't think I would live to see this day." Haymitch says.

"Don't worry, Haymitch." dad says. "We really love to have you around."

"Not around Katniss." he jokes. "Her flames might make me catch fire."

This tickles us greatly and we laugh. "You won't!" I exclaim.

"Hi, Catnip." Uncle Gale comes along with his wife and Thorn. "They say this comet comes by every few hundred years."

"I don't want to be that old." mum says with mock anguish.

"Why not? You hate wrinkles?" dad asks.

"Not that, but-" mum sighs. "Don't worry, I''' still love you with wrinkles or not." dad charmingly says.

Mum laughs so hard that she has to kiss dad. But as they draw near to each other, Bagel shouts, "There's the comet! It's coming!"

We scramble to spot the white streak of light cutting across the night sky. It looks simply beautiful and spectacular, a wonder. "Wow." I say. "Where do they come from?"

"I'm not sure myself." Thorn says. "But it's awesome."

"I wish comets pop by more often," I say. "but then if they did, they would be less of a novelty."

"You're right." Thorn Hawthorne says. "But comets aren't that fiery as the Mockingjay, are they?"

"Come on, you." I say. "Which one, Thorn? There are two Mockingjays here, remember?"

In answer to that, Thorn is glancing at my parents who are lying on the grass, their eyes on the endless expanse of the galaxy's riches of beauty. The endless stars, hailed by the shimmering tail of the comet, can overwhelm even the most hardened philosopher.

Reunited once more, mum places her head on dad's chest and whispers, "You love me, real or not?"

"Real." he says.

"I'm Katniss Everdeen. I'm a survivor, victim, fighter, lover, wife and mother. I'm the Mockingjay. I survived two Hunger Games and two wars. Yet here am I. I have a husband who loves me to no end. I have a good son who bears no enmity and has a big heart. I have a daughter who is daring and not scared to sacrifice her life for others. I have a daughter who loves and feels what many don't. I have a legacy. Real or not?"

"Real." dad says.

"I have a home. District 12. My country Panem is safe and sound. When I hunt with Jay in the woods or feel the cool water in the lake bath my feet, I am happy because we have not to fear. Real or not?"

"Real." dad says. He pulls her closer to him and turns to her.

"We'll live life as fit as it is. We'll stand together to face every obstacle as long we have breath. We'll love, care and protect each other and our children till the day we go to a better place."

"You are my Mockingjay, real or not?" dad says.

"Real." Her lips press once more into his lips.

I must say, there are better Games to play.

THE END

NOTE FROM AUTHOR: Thank goodness this project is completed! Continue the Mockingjay's adventures in the next story- Mockingjay: Destiny. Thanks for reading and please put up a review!