So I'm back with another really quickly, because then the next time I post, the 75th Hunger Games will have finally started... I think... I'll need to go read whether that's the case.

Anyway, please enjoy.

.

X-X-Part 3-Chapter 23-X-X

...

Annabeth didn't hide how mad she was, but there was little he could see from up there and behind them. So he opted into listening and trying to catch as much of her facial expressions as he could and come to conclusions from there. She didn't wave as he had, but after all, she had no reason to fake being in love with the Capitol, it wasn't like she'd slept with half of them. So she walked straight, her head held high, and her eyes as piercing as ever.

"Oh-oh," Caesar said, trying to ease the tension she brought as she had walked in. "You do not look happy Annabeth, what's wrong?"

She looked at him, and Percy had to contain the laugh. "What's wrong?" she asked rhetorically. "Two years ago I busted my ass, killed eight others, with the idea I walk in there once, and get out, yet here I am, walking back in there. I don't think it's fair. I'd say it was rigged if I didn't know any better."

"Certainly it isn't all bad," Caesar tried, but Annabeth cut him off with a look.

"I don't know, you tell me, Cesear," she said. "Ever been in there?"

Caesar closed his mouth. Then he smiled. "But tell me, have you been enjoying yourself since your win?"

"Sure," she replied cuttingly. "I'm all set for life when there are other people, women, and children starving. It's great to walk the streets and be able to do nothing about it. I'm enjoying it a lot, truthfully."

It didn't go on for long. Instead, Caesar seemed to ask her something off the mic and then ending the interview there. Annabeth was quick to make her way up there, next to him, her hand reached for him, and he had to control himself really hard, as he clasped hers, not to kiss her right there. At that moment, he also thought whether their display would be enough to convince Plutarch and whoever else was behind all of it, that she was on their side. She had seen the rebellion coming a year before, she had been the first to suggest it to him. She could be trusted.

Her district partner didn't say much. Then it was Johanna and boy, he had a ball listening to that happening. Caesar was introducing her, trying to go at it better than he had with Annabeth because Johanna had the same murdering look on her face. Johanna had, in fact, won her games in a very similar manner as hers. Made all her opponents believe she was weak, and then come out as a killer towards the end of her games. Annabeth had simply been a killer since the games started.

"We have seen a lot of tears here tonight," Caesar was saying. "But I see no tears in Johanna's eyes. Johanna, you are angry. Tell me why?" he asked her, and Percy wondered whether he wanted to be yelled at, or whether his intention was to have her yell at the Capitol, at Snow and everyone else watching. He guessed it did good for the districts, for them to know that there were complaints about this. That it wasn't accepted.

"Well yes I'm angry," she said. "You know, I'm totally getting screwed over here. The deal was, that if I win the Hunger Games, I get to live the rest of my life in peace. But now you wanna kill me again. But you know what? Fuck that! Fuck anybody that has had to do with it!" she ended it, storming off to find her spot on top of the podium with the rest of them.

"Alright then," Caesar said, turning back to his audience. "One little's opinion. Who's next?"

Blight, and then the two tributes from eight. From nine. From ten, and then from eleven. Eventually, the night neared to a close, and in a few minutes, he would be allowed to walk off that podium, find a bed and crash until morning. He was going on with three hours of sleep found on top of Annabeth's bed. If he didn't sleep well this night he was going to drop dead tired within the first two hours the next day.

Katniss was called to the stage, and well, the audience went wild with her, and he understood why when he saw that she was wearing a wedding dress. That's when he remembered that she was engaged. Completely forgotten about that. "Ladies and gentlemen," Caesar introduced her. "The victor of last year's Hunger Games. Katniss Everdeen. You look fabulous doesn't she?" Of course, the attention would be the biggest here, they were fresh meat. "My, my. Whooh whoah whoooh." The crowd cheered with him. "Now Katniss," he went on once it had gotten calm again. "This is…a very big…and very emotional…night. For all of us. Wouldn't you say?"

"Now don't go crying on me Caesar," she said quickly and with quirk, he'd heard from her before.

"I can't be getting promises you know me," Caesar replied just as quickly.

"You know I wouldn't believe you even if you did," she said then, but luckily enough there was something beneath her words, enough to make him remember that she was acting. Her acting had gotten better, he had to admit. Until recently, he hadn't bought the star crossed lovers act for a second.

"On a more serious note," Caesar said, continuing. "I think we're all here a little disappointed— more than a little disappointed that a certain wedding did not take place. Are we folks?" The crowd, per usual, went crazy at that. "Alas," he continued. "But. Am I correct and assuming that this is the gown that you would have worn on that day, yes or no?"

"Yes," she said and there was already a presence of a loud cheer coming from the crowd. "President Snow thought everyone would want to see it." And didn't president Snow always know what the crowd wanted?

"Well President Snow as usual was right," Caesar said with enthusiasm. "Was he not folks?" the crowd cheered in agreement. He was always right in regards to what his people wanted to see on the tributes. "Will you do us the honor please please please?" He asked and then Katniss was moving away from him, and she was twirling. Around and around, and her dress was catching flames and the white was burning away to a blue color, a different fabric, and it was like a skin burning day to a new one.

Katniss extended her arms and there were wings, and it was at that moment that he realized, that this rebellion…this rebellion was originating from the inside. It was Capitol people up there in the ranks. As much as they claimed thirteen was important, for now, it was Capitol men that had taken the steps. The first ones to light this rebellion to a wildfire that one day sees all of Panem freed.

"Oh my God," Caesar said, almost like he didn't see what it all meant. "It's like uh... it's like a bird... it's like umm... umm…"

"A Mockingjay," Katniss finished for him, a smile on her face as she too, understood what it stood for. It was an act of rebellion. One she hadn't known about if the look on her face was anything to go by. Annabeth squeezed his hand, and he looked at her with a smile. She too, knew, this was it.

"Your stylist has certainly outdone himself this time," Caesar called out. "Cinna. Take a bow!"

The cameras were zooming in on him, and the stylist, a dark skinned man with golden eyeliner took his bow, hand over his heart, not for the Capitol, but for Katniss and what she stood for. If he stood for freedom in his own mind. Katniss stood for hope for everyone looking at her seeing that freedom. She was the spark of the rebellion, and he hadn't been aware of how right that title was for her until now. The girl on fire walked up the stairs and took her place next to the male from eleven.

Peeta was called to stage then, and he looked more in his element than Katniss had, with tight smiles and quirky come backs. He wore white, almost to display his innocence, since after all, it had been Katniss to do most of the killing the year before. He'd been there through it all, but it had been her, not him. He was still innocent in reproach to everyone else.

"But Peeta," Caesar said slowly. "The wedding, the marriage. Never to be?" he asked solemnly.

Whatever he'd expected it wasn't what the boy said. "Well, actually we got married." Most of the audience made a scandalous noise. "In secret," Peeta added, not looking too good.

"A secret wedding," even Caesar was having a hard time to swallow the news. He himself didn't believe it for a second. "Alright, do tell?" Caesar said, pushing for more details, like he always did.

"We want our love to be eternal," he said to Caesar but he said that to the audience that loved him and his love story, as well. "You know, Katniss and I…we've been luckier than most, and I wouldn't have any regrets at all…if uh…if it weren't…if it weren't—"

"If it weren't for what? What?" Caesar pushed, curious, like the rest of the nation no doubt was.

"If it weren't for the baby!" Peeta said, and it was like he was dropping a bomb shell. The whole crowd started making commotion, booing at the event, yelling, complaining. He smiled, because this was having a good effect. This could cancel the games. The couple was the talk of the nation, they were the Capitol's favorite's. If the Capitol was yelling…well then maybe it was a good sign.

"Alright," Caesar was saying, trying to calm down the audience. "This is news. Let's find out more. Calm down, this is news to all of us."

But at this point Peeta had made his way to the top of the stage, and no answers could be given anymore. Then something odd happened, which was initiated by all those part of the rebel plan. It started with three and four, they grabbed hands. Then five and six wee in on it, and below them, seven, through to twelve were in on it as well. One and two grabbed hands as well, and then they were raising them in the air. One to twelve, twenty-four tributes, twelve districts, holding hands, and standing there, for all the nation to see, united as one.

It conveyed only one message. If we can stand here united, then so can you, and this was to all he districts who still hated one another. This was to all of the nation. This time Caesar caught up with it, and looked at a technician, to tell him to cut the power, so that all of them tributes were in the dark and no one could see them anymore. But the damage was done. The spark was there, now his job tomorrow, was to keep that spark alive so it could become a sizzling fire, then Katniss…he started believing in her too. She would turn that spark around into a roaring fire.

-.-

The games didn't get called off, not that he had really believed for long that they would to be honest. He told Annabeth to come to his room after ten, didn't tell her why, but truth was he needed to meet with Finnick and Haymitch, and she still wasn't part of it, but he was and he needed to be in on everything going on, else risk everything going to hell the first moment he appeared in that arena.

He met them in the same room he'd met Plutarch the other times, but this time it was only them three. Haymitch wasn't looking too happy, probably because the baby bomb hadn't worked. Probably because it also wasn't true. He was able to sense people, as say, people were seventy percent water, and there was no extra nothing in her stomach. It had been just that, a baby bomb.

Finnick on the other hand, was looking almost scared, disturbed even, sitting down on one of the chairs and staring off to nowhere. He wanted to comfort him, more than he wanted to do anything, but right then other things were more important. The more he neared the games, the more things seemed less important and the more the goal, the objective, seemed like anything to worry about. So he would wait until the meeting was over before going over to the male of four and talking.

"What's going on?" he questioned form Haymitch, since he was the one who was looking more in control. More like he knew what was actually going on.

"Katniss does not want allies," he said to them, and both he and Finnick looked at him a bit weirdly. "There are some of the other Victors she likes and this is why we've come to a doable conclusion. Percy, you've managed to get pretty close with Peeta, you and your girl will be focusing on keeping the two of them alive. Finnick, you on the other hand, you round all the others up, make sure you're all together. There is strength is numbers."

"There is also a massacre in numbers," Percy said, remembering of something Nico might have said once. A pang of hurt hitting him on the chest but he pushed that away. "Round up the others means ten people running around in a pack around the arena. The careers might not get them, but if the game makers create mutts, that's ten tributes they're going after."

"That's a problem that won't happen," Haymitch said. "There are still tributes out there who will be looking to kill you tomorrow. One, two, six, nine and ten, that's another ten tributes. The bloodbath of the cornucopia will still occur, all you have to do is make sure, you clear it before the careers can swarm it. I want you and your girl with Katniss and Peeta. Finnick, you'll take care of Mags, that's gonna slow you down, so that's why you're with the rest. Keep them alive. They're all allies, they're all your friends. And in four days we'll all be in thirteen, safe and sound, the games forever behind us."

"Okay," Finnick said, agreeing to it. He wished he hadn't.

"You said Katniss doesn't want allies," he said, stopping Haymitch. "How am I supposed to make her trust me?"

"Oh, I almost forgot," the mentor from twelve said as he searched his pockets. He pulled out a golden bracelet and slid it across the table to him. "Show her that, and tell her you're allies. If that's not enough, then I don't know. Use your charm, save her, show her you're not her enemy. She'll trust you eventually."

"After she puts an arrow in my back?"

"No," Haymitch exclaimed. "Just trust the bracelet," he called out to him, as he walked out. Percy looked after him, contemplating whether or not he should go after him and ask him more. Instead he remembered Finnick and went to sit down next to him as he slid the bracelet over his wrist. As soon as it was on he wanted to take it off, it reminded him too much of a manacle, but he bared it.

"What's wrong?" he asked the male from four. "You're not looking too good."

Finnick looked at him and smiled, a chuckle too. "You're one to talk," he said joking, but he had found, over the years, going was his way to hide things. Make everyone believe him to be cold and heartless, when truthfully beneath he was the opposite. He stayed in silence, waiting for a serious response to his question. "I've just been thinking about tomorrow," he said after a while, then looked up at him. "Also at what you said with Caesar. Our games were easy, we were elites in a group of teenagers, but this year. What if this is it? What if we walk in there, and we don't make it to the extraction? What if we die in there?"

Finnick had been there for him in his low moments, it was only right he was there now. "You can't afford to think like that, Finnick," he told him, his voice soft and kind. "If you do you're already dead. Just, think of why you're doing it, right," he said, saying the same words that Finnick had told him when he had started with clients. If the reason why is clear, it's so much easier. "Think, that you need to be alive to see Annie again. That if you die, you won't. Think about what your death could mean, to her, to everyone you know, and fight with every ounce of strength to stay alive." This he was good at. Motivating people, motivating kids to keep on fighting, to stay alive, even though he himself did not wish to. "Keep her in mind, every step of the way, and it's so much easier for you tonight to sleep well, and tomorrow, to survive the day, and the one after that. I promise, we'll see thirteen together."

The male from four smiled. "You're a good man, Percy," he said as he stood up. "And I'm grateful that we became friends over the years. I wouldn't know what I'd be missing if I didn't. Thank you," he said as he put his hand on his shoulder and squeezed. "Try to follow your own advice though, eh?"

Percy looked up, and Finnick winked. He laughed and then they were both getting out of the room, and making their way to their respective rooms. One good sleep, before tomorrow they would both be going in there and hopefully, flying out in three days.

-.-

He took a shower when he got back to his apartments. Then it was still early enough that he made his way to their dining area, and he found Elizabeth there. He walked to her and asked her for a hug. The escort hugged him back, and he had the weirdest impression that she might have been crying, in fact he saw her tears as they pulled away. She was going at it with the tip of her long nails, being careful not to cut herself.

"I am going to miss you, so much," she said.

"Thank you," he told her, with a truly genuine smile. "You've been great."

She smiled at him, and she was still crying, but he had places to be, Annabeth was coming over, and he wanted her presence really badly at the moment. So he was in his room, and ten minutes or so later, she knocked at his door and he let her in. He had heard that having sex before a fight made the man weak, but he didn't care, and it seemed, neither did she.

When she walked in, it was only a matter of closing the door with a key behind her before he was kissing her, and soon they were both on the bed, she on top of him, as her hands locked in his hair and his own hands trailed all over her body. Since arriving from their districts, they'd had no time to get together like this, every night he'd been busy. So this was in effect, the first time in months since they laid together, and although it was over fairly quickly, they enjoyed every second of it, like it was the last time.

After all they couldn't go around having sex with cameras all around them, could they?

In the end, they ended like they were in the morning, if only roles were reversed, and they were both pretty naked. Except he put on a pair of boxers and she slung over his shirt, which covered her well enough. He sat, his back on the board of the bed, and she laid there, cuddling in the crook of his arm, her legs curled up, and her head on his chest. Her hand draped over him, because they were both going to miss not having this. They both wanted this, more than they wanted to live.

"Annabeth," he said, his voice low and husky. "We need to talk about allies," he told her, and he really just wanted for them both to sleep as much as they could before tomorrow, but he needed to talk to her about it. To have her be on board. "Seriously need to talk about it."

"Okay," she said. "I'm listening." Which was already more than he had planned for. He'd been ready for her to say something along the lines of, I don't trust them, please stop trying to make me.

"Katniss and Peeta," he said to her, like it told everything. "Tomorrow, at the cornucopia, we find them, and we show them we're with them, alright?" he asked. "I have this bracelet," he showed her the golden ringlet. "Their mentor, Haymitch, gave it to me earlier. It should convince them not to shoot at us immediately. I'd say, we get the weapons, then we find them, and we make peace."

"Percy, I like them," she told him, and he was glad to hear it. "And I trust you, too," she added. "And as long as we're together, I don't care who else is there with us. Just that when it comes down to it, it's us Percy. Not them. And it's you not them. Heaven knows you deserve all the good in the world."

"Annabeth I'm a monster," he told her, "but you do. Deserve all the good in the world, and I'm gonna make sure you get it."

He knew she understood what he was implying. He was telling her then, that if there was a winner in between them two, it was going to be her. He felt her tense up, as she understood, but she didn't say anything. She didn't want to ruin this last night they had together in the privacy of their own room. Which he was glad. She was good. She was a good person, and he loved her.

"How are we gonna kill those people, Percy?" she asked him then, her voice breaking the silence that had settled. "After today, it really felt like it could have been something, you know."

He kissed the top of her head. "I don't know Annabeth," he told her truthfully. Some of them, he knew, he was still going to need to kill. Like the ones from one and two, and the other tributes which weren't part of the rebel plot and would try to kill him. He would obviously kill them first. He didn't know how though. He didn't want to go in there, and he didn't want to kill anyone. "Just, if you're put in a position where you have to," he said, calling back to the words he'd given Finnick. "Just remember why you're doing it. We have our own war to get back to, eh. We kill for them. We kill for our own freedom."

She snuggled closer to him. "I love you," she told him, and he wanted nothing more but to hear only those words, again and again. He wanted her to say that to him, like a lullaby, but he also knew it wasn't going to happen. Perhaps after the rebellion, perhaps after they got to their own home, and the world was free from evil. Months, years, even decades from now. Perhaps one day he'll be lying just like this, with her next to him, and they'd whisper sweet nothing into each other's ears. Although he very much doubted it would happen like that. He could always hope though, and there was nothing on his wish list higher.

.

And that's a bittersweet note to end on, but I hope it was alright.

I think a bit on the boring side, but it needs build-up? I guess... I don't know.

And yes...next chapter we get to the arena.

Mmh...I tend to forget how much I love this series.

Hunter :)