The Capitol has been taken.

The rebels are victorious.

Snow is dead.

And yet they still won't let us see Katniss.

I mean it's been over half-a-day since Johanna painted the walls of Snow's office red; how much questioning do they need to do? Boggs even told me that they already got the general story already.

Apparently, being the one to kill Snow has always been priority for Johanna. So once the pods went off, it was decided that most of Twelve's platoon should simply rendezvous with our squad to get medical attention. In the meantime, that small contingent would take to the sewers and slowly inch and battle their way to the Mansion.

In the meantime, Katniss heard about the group and decided to make it a bit easier for them to get to their intended destination. So with information about the logistics in the complex, she had Darius pass said information amongst the Avoxes in the tunnels to reach the incoming fireteam, making it easier for them to infiltrate the Mansion. After dropping off Thom and the rest of the Twelve guys at the hospital, Johanna and Brutus took care of the security and were greeted by Katniss at their arrival. Then Johanna walked into Snow's office and… yeah…

I made a mistake of asking for proof of Snow's demise, and Boggs provided the pictures. I regret that now.

So for whatever reason, most people in the Mansion are being detained, though several have been released. Ms. Everdeen, Portia, and the girl Avox — turns out her name is Lavinia — were the first to be let go; the reunion definitely occurred in high enough spirits — at least for the circumstances — as I was genuinely happy to see that they are alright. Effie, Darius, and Brue were released next; that reunion became considerably less pleasant when Ned told Brue exactly about what happened to our squad. Now is just the wait for the two girls.

I bet that Coin wanted to have Snow's execution public and with all the pomp and fanfare; so she can't be pleased about having that opportunity taken from her. Well too bad for the president; the people already know Johanna killed Snow and Katniss helped her, and now those two victors are both true heroes to the Rebellion.

At least something good came out of this whole fiasco.

In the meantime, while this wait goes on, I watch over Gale.

Didn't think it was possible, but now he actually looks much worse than before. Previously, he was just extremely despondent and listless. Now… well now, on top of the usual unresponsiveness, his expression seems set in this wide-eyed and unblinking — seriously, he doesn't ever blink — stare that goes past any fixed point into the beyond. If I didn't know Gale, I'd probably avoid him as much as possible; however, I'm too busy worrying about his state of being and the possibility that he may do something… unpleasant. The only hopeful sign is that he's still eating instead of ignoring his food, so there's that… I guess…

While I look after Gale, I constantly attempt to bring out a reaction by having conversations with him. In other words, I would say something and then wait a moment in the hopes that he would reply, and if he doesn't reply — which is always — then I simply fill in the blanks in my mind and continue on as if he actually did say something. I probably sound crazy in the process, but it keeps my mind preoccupied and busy; it also serves as a good way to practice my speaking skills.

Granted, while Gale makes no sign if he's annoyed — or anything really — with my yammering, Leeg 1 occasionally lets her displeasure known by chucking the nearest item at my head. Leeg actually woke up a couple days before the bombing and, all things considered, seems to be alright with no major long-term physical or mental trauma. Well, except for the expressive aphasia; she can read, write, and listen fine, but whenever she tries to speak, everything comes out stuttering and jumbled. As a result, her disposition is currently in a perpetual, if understandable, state of crankiness. At least it hasn't impacted her aim; most of her throws succeed in reaching their target, though I'm starting to get better at ducking.

I'm in the process of explaining my confidence to Gale about the progress in medical technology — that they are going to find a new treatment to get him on his feet again — when he says his first words since the bombing:

"Doesn't matter."

The shock of hearing him speak without it being an emergency almost makes me not actually hear the words themselves. However, once it hits me what he said, my ecstasy about the progress made gets replaced with a twinge of irritation. "What do you mean it 'doesn't matter'? I would think that you'd want to walk."

"I did…" Despite being raspy from a lack of use, Gale's voice sounds painfully hollow; enough to make me forget my irritation. "It's just… Even if they did find a way to give me back the ability to walk… I wouldn't deserve to have it. This is what I deserve…" he mutters while gesturing at his wheelchair. Holmes and the Leegs seem to sense an uncomfortable conversation coming as they give some half-hearted excuses to vacate the room, leaving me to deal with this by myself.

"Don't be ridiculous," I scoff. "How do you deserve to be paralyzed for li—"

"Peeta," he interrupts while making eye contact with me. Or at least I think he's making eye contact; the distant focus still has not left his gaze, which makes returning said eye contact very uneasy. "How do you think I knew that there was a secondary explosive?"

Memories of Gale's absence due to his R&D work surface up in my mind, but I attempt to push them down. Because I have a very good idea about what he's implying, and I very much would like to wish otherwise. "Well, you have familiarized yourself with the weapons of the ene—"

"Just for once, Peeta, stop with the bullshit." If anything, the lack of anger in his voice makes the delivery of the statement even worse. "I know what I saw: fragmentary explosives detonated in the initial stage; volatile vapor released during the second stage and at a timed manner to allow others to arrive in a rescue attempt; secondary explosions detonated to cause an incendiary deflagration to take out anybody in the area… You can't tell me those weren't my bombs."

My blood runs cold at the description of the weapon. Not just about the innate cruelty behind the tactic, but also the underlying implication. Because if Gale was the one to develop those explosives, that means my suspicions have just been confirmed about the bombing. Snow is a cruel, and many times petty, man who has no qualms about hurting innocents; however, he isn't stupid. It's one thing to hold children, of his constituents, hostage to maintain an air of fear; it's a whole other thing to eliminate those hostages and cause said constituents to get riled up. There is no benefit to that action — there's only cost — and Snow is never one to commit to an action that has no benefit to himself. That only leaves one possible person responsible; the one who most likely stands to gain from Snow's drop in popularity among the Capitolites.

As I'm piecing together the puzzle, Gale keeps talking: "After the first explosions went off… there was this child. He couldn't have been any older than Vick; actually, despite his colored hair, he looked just like Vick. Anyways, after those explosives detonated, most of the children were downed or stunned; except him. He just stood there, with most of his clothes blown off and the ragged remains of what used to be a baby in his arms, and I swear that he was staring right at me; staring as if he knew that I was behind this. He kept on staring until his face was completely burnt off by the flames," Gale murmurs before running his hand across his face several times. "And he keeps on staring at me in my mind. The best part… the best part is that he's not alone."

No, the best part is how familiar this sounds…

"A Peacekeeper I killed back in Twelve… the suffocated masses from the Nut… they all are watching me. Letting me know what a monster I a—"

"Gale, that's enough!" I snap as my hands slam down to grasp the handles of his wheelchair, which actually causes him to flinch back. But I'm too on-edge to feel bad about it; this is too familiar for my liking, and I don't like the way he's tearing himself apart over this. After taking a few breaths to steady myself, I soften my voice. "You're not a monster. You weren't the one who dropped the bombs."

"Haven't you listened to a damn thing I've been saying? I may have not been the one who was in that hovercraft, but I came up with the sick tactic in the first place. I was also the one who willfully decided to bury thousands of people alive; yes that move was a valid strategy, but I also didn't give a damn about the civilian collateral. How can you say that I'm not a monster?"

"Because a real monster wouldn't be all torn up about this."

"If I'm not that, then what am I?" Gale looks earnestly desperate for the answer.

I'm debating about giving him that because I'm not sure how he'll react. But at least he'll know that he isn't alone… "Gale, do you remember back when we were flying back from Eight to Thirteen?"

My question seems to be slightly random to him judging from the look of confusion forming on his face. "Yeah… You were having a bad dream at the time."

"And you were wondering about them. For which I told you that I would try to explain later."

Gale nods his head, but still says, "I don't get what this has to do with my question."

I give him a grim smile in response, "It has everything to do with your question. Because the things you've done, the reasons why you did them, and the price you've paid as a result… it tells me very clearly what you are."

"And that is…"

"A victor."

Gale's taken aback by my answer and seems to be mulling it over in his head. "Huh… that's… huh… heh… hehe…"

Before long, his chuckling escalate into full-fledged giggles. However, I know what's probably going to come right on the heels of the laughter.

So without any prompting, I kneel in front of my big brother to gather him into my arms. Sure enough, the laughs turn into sobs as he buries his face into my shoulder. He actually tries issuing a set of broken apologies — like he's being a burden or some other nonsense — but I shush him while murmuring that it's all right. After a while, it actually starts becoming uncomfortable to stay kneeling — not to mention that my shoulder has become extremely wet with facial leakage — but I don't dare move from where I am during this stage. I may not exactly know what is going on in Gale's head — same way that I don't exactly know what's going on in Katniss', or Haymitch's, or Johanna's — but that doesn't mean that I don't have a good idea. And what I know is this: nobody decent should ever suffer alone.

This is the best comfort I can give. It's not much, but it's what I have.

By the time that almost an hour is up, Gale has finally stopped crying, but his head's still on my shoulder, and I haven't broken the hug just yet; not until he's ready. With a quick knock on the doorframe, Leeg 2 pokes her head back in — she doesn't comment or give any acknowledgement about the hug, which I appreciate — to say that Katniss has been released and is going to be here in around fifteen minutes. At this, Gale leans back, which I take as a cue to break away.

"You should get ready," he says. To my relief, his voice has some depth; there is still that weary quality to it, but much of that seems to be more from exhaustion than anything else. Also while his eyes still haven't quite lost the distant stare — frankly I think that there's going to be at least a trace of that for a while — they seem to have more life in them. There's still room for improvement, but it's a step in the right direction.

"Doing that right now," I chirp with a smile as I strip off the fluid-logged shirt. My smile slips away when crouch back down to look seriously at Gale and give him this warning: "Gale, you need to promise me that you won't make any public announcement about where those bombs came from."

He understandably looks incredulous. "Why? People deserve to know what happens."

"Yes they do. But now's not the time. More importantly, Coin's going to deny everything you say. She'll simply dismiss you as some shell-shocked cripple who's angry at the world and is trying to get back at her by spreading lies. And with the state you're in right now, it won't be hard for her to do so."

"How are you so sure about this?" Besides his irritation at restrictions place on him, Gale actually seems to be partially in awe.

I really do wonder what it says about me being able to to think up such a scenario so easily; nothing good probably. But there's no use moping about it, and I might as well put it to some use in navigating this mess.

"I've been around her long enough to have gotten a good feel for things." Which is also true. "But anyways, if she's successful in weathering your accusations, you can bet that she'll publicly consider you to be an enemy. And if that happens, you better hope that our family's someplace out of reach. Which means that Twelve will likely be off-limits."

Judging from the way he blanches, it's clear that I've made my point. "Alright…"

"Good… however, that's not the hardest thing I'm asking you to do."

"What's that then?"

"I'm going to need you to actually be cordial — genial even — if Coin, or any of Thirteen's leadership, decides to talk to you or make any public appearances with you at their side."

"Wha-"

I hold my hand up to silence him. "Command hates me and vice versa; it's pretty much the open secret. You however… despite your association with me, they still somehow consider you to be a war hero and a soldier who performs admirably in combat and with great loyalty to the cause. Staying friendly should remove most suspicion off you in case things get drastic. Does that all make sense?"

I don't blame Gale for looking at me like I've become a paranoid lunatic; in all honesty, I probably am one. However, to his credit, he nods his head, though not without muttering, "I've got to get you away from those books…"

"Eh… possibly," I state with a shrug. "In any case, you should make yourself look a bit presentable as well."

"Wait, why?"

Gale's question is answered with a clean shirt flying into his face; he wiped his eyes and nose beforehand, so all's good. "Why do you think? I'm not leaving you up here, and I'm also not the only one who means something to her." When he's about to object, I add, "And wallowing is not good reason to avoid saying hello."

Now that earns a scowl. There we go… "I'm not wallowing."

"Then act like it."

After we get done spiffing up, Gale asks me with a suspicious glance, "This isn't by any chance a way for you to rub this in my face."

That strongly assumes she feels the same way about me as I do about her. In any case, I may be imagining things, but I think I can actually see the hint of a genuine smile on his face. So I go with that and clasp my hand over my heart. "Aw, Gale. Where ever do you get such hurtful… hurtful ideas?"

He actually snorts in response. "I have no clue…"

"In any case, if our reunion involves a nice long kiss," — Hah! Like that will happen — "can you promise me that you won't start rampaging?"

"Well now you're asking a bit too much. Playing nice in front of bitchy presidents and corrupt COs, I can do; not going on a rage-filled rampage at the sight of you two kissing is a pretty tall order."

"Just try not to go after any deranged Head Peacekeepers. I don't think there are syringe-wielding mayor's daughters around to bail you out this time."

"She is pretty good with that syringe." This time, there's no denying the smile on his face. "Though I'm not the only one who had to be bailed-out."

"I…" I raise my hand to make a counterpoint, but ball it closed when I realize there's none to make. "DAMMIT!"

"Did I just beat the all-mighty Peeta Mellark in an argument? With words?" Upon that realization, Gale raises his fists into the air in a gesture of triumph. "WHOO!"

"Yeah yeah," I mutter as I wheel him out of our room and to the elevator. "Enjoy your little victory while it lasts."

In the end, I'm just happy to coax some emotion out of him, and it not involving a variation of depression.

By the time we get to the front of the hospital, the car is just pulling into the drive.

Johanna is the first to disembark from the back of the vehicle. Cheers erupt from the crowd as she raises one of her axes in the air; to my amusement and satisfaction, the security escorts from Thirteen stay a good distance away. Brutus and Ned don't hesitate to run over to greet the ax-wielding victor however, and Brutus actually places her on his shoulders to the increased volume of the surrounding people. When Johanna sees me, all she does is smirk and make an aside glance to the car.

And that's where she is.

By now, Katniss' belly is definitely prominent, yet that doesn't seem to visibly impede her movement just yet judging from how easily she appears to exit from the vehicle and adjust her dress. Attempts from security to help her are met with an impatient wave.

I decide to move forward, but the brakes on the wheelchair suddenly get activated, which causes me to I give a puzzled and exasperated look at Gale. However, my incoming lecture dies en route at the sight of the small serene smile on his face. When we make eye contact, all he does is give me the slightest of nods and then gestures forward with his head. The message is clear and I nod back before striding towards Katniss.

It's not long before she sees me. Her expression shows a mixture of relief and… something else that I can't put my finger on. Worry? Frustration? Probably both judging by the way she moodily shoves a guard out of the way — he has almost a foot on her and yet is sent stumbling; dumbass — as she herself strides towards me with that trademark scowl on her face. I pick up my pace to close the distance, my arms outstretched to give her a hug in greeting.

I'm just about to say her name when her lips crash against mine.

And, if only for this moment, everything else goes blank and simply ceases to matter.


A/N: And here's the event that many seem to have been waiting for. I'll let you fill in the blank as to how the reunion goes from here.

On another more cheery note, going by the description in MJ, the bombs were indeed not just two steps but had a different type of explosive for each step. Especially since there weren't flames in the first blast. This is where the fuel-air idea came from, though this one's a deflagration not detonation.