I had scribbled down some important things to say on notecards that I held in my shaking hands as I prepared to go onstage. We were told to dress formally, as we didn't exactly have an official military uniform for commanders to wear. Commanders Paylor, Jackson and Lyme wore pantsuits, while I wore a peach-coloured dress with my brown curls hung loose around my face. Effie had insisted on the dress, considering I would be seeing Peeta afterwards. "He'd love to see you looking beautiful in his favourite colour," she told me softly, her Capitol accent having not faded one bit.
"He'd be happy to see her stark naked if that's how she chose to go," said Haymitch with amusement, and Effie shot him a glare while she did my hair.
"You stop that, Haymitch! Our Katniss is going to look beautiful for all of Panem but most importantly, for our Peeta," she replied, curling a piece of my hair.
I stood on the stage on Commander Paylor's left, and she stood between myself and Commander Lyme. Commander Jackson was up first, giving a speech thanking the men and women of her unit who gave their lives fighting for the rebellion by name, and also taking the time to name all the rebel soldiers who died in the siege. I could feel my stomach tying itself in knots at the mentions of Finnick Odair, Calum Fòlais and Donnel Mellark. And then it was Commander Lyme's turn to speak. She also thanked those in her unit by name, as well as honoured those in her unit who died, and she thanked each individual district and Senator for their support in the rebellion.
And then, it was Commander Paylor. Commander Paylor would be the one to announce the new government as a representative of the Senate, and the people of Panem cheered at the mention of the new government. They also cheered when Commander Paylor announced that she would be running for President, and it seemed obvious that Commander Paylor had a lot of support among the people of Panem, even from the people in the Capitol. The Capitol people loved that there would be two Capitol senators but were dissatisfied with the idea that they wouldn't be allowed their position on the Senate until the Senate Elections in a year.
And then, it was my turn. With my notecards in hand, I stepped forward and up to the microphone. It reminded me of how I once gave small speeches in each of the districts on the Victory Tour, now three and a half years ago, when I held Effie's notecards in my hand and had to stick to them to avoid causing an uprising in Panem. The heat of the August sun beat down on me and reminded me of how I failed as the heat brought out the pain from the burns beneath the artificial Capitol skins that were covering them. On a rather large screen above my head, I looked relatively unscathed and the image of perfection, all of my scars hidden beneath makeup, just like the way the Capitol had once wanted me to appear. I cleared my throat and looked down at the cards in my hands once more and then I sighed - I couldn't stick to the cards. I could never stick to the damn cards. I bunched them up in one hand and brought my hands to my sides.
"Hello, people of Panem," I said finally. "I am Katniss Mellark, Senator, Commander, tribute in the Third Quarter Quell and Victor of the 74th Hunger Games... I will start out by giving my thanks to the people who so bravely were a part of my unit as we converged on the Capitol in the final days of the rebellion. Those who are still with me today are Cressida Dubrow and Pollux Chatham, who provided video footage of the Siege that you all saw before we began to speak. I thank them both for their bravery, as they were non-combative, yet had to engage in combat when the dangers became too much. Carolina Abernathy, who I am privileged to call my dear friend, who was not assigned to a unit to converge on the Capitol but so bravely volunteered. Cailean Fòlais, my little brother, who was responsible for much of the technology both in combat and in medicine that we utilised throughout the rebellion. Gale Hawthorne, who was responsible for the success of the final capture of the President's Mansion. And finally... Peeta Mellark, my husband, who so bravely co-commanded our unit by my side, who cannot be here with us today due to the extensive injuries he received from his brave actions during the final capture of the Mansion." I paused at the mention of Peeta's name, feeling a knot in my throat. I swallowed it down and continued on.
"I also must give thanks to those of my unit who so bravely gave their lives protecting those of us who survived, and gave their lives fighting for the rebellion. Castor Chatham, Graham Leper, Zeodary Sage, Hadley Walker, Donnel Mellark... Finnick Odair... and Calum Fòlais. All of them died to protect those of us who survived. Our unit was hit the hardest with tragedy due to the simple fact that your much beloved Mockingjay was leading the team. President Snow couldn't resist trying to kill me, but thanks to the bravery of those who did not live to see the end of the rebellion, Snow's efforts were in vain. I will forever be grateful for the sacrifices they made, that allowed me to stand before you today." I paused again, swallowing another knot in my throat.
"I am sure that you all want to know what is to be done with our former President Snow, and listen very closely to what I have to say, because it is my understanding that the people of Panem may not be happy with the decision that the Senate has come to regarding his fate," I continued, and there was a little bit of uproar and I paused to let it die out. "The question was posed of whether or not Snow should be executed for his crimes, and while much of the Senate was for the public execution of Snow, however... it was I who brought up opposition, and the reasoning was that killing Coriolanus Snow would be giving him an easy way out of his crimes. He is an old man, and while he seemed to act as if he were a god, he is no less human than either you or me. His life, like ours, is only temporary, and he will die soon while having to live with the guilt of his actions. Death is the easy way out, and Coriolanus Snow does not deserve an easy escape from the crimes he has committed." I paused again while I waited for the response of the people, but they were eerily silent. I continued on.
"High-ranking officials will be tried and, if found guilty of their crimes, will be publicly executed. It is not known who was acting out of malice, and who was acting out of fear for the families or their own lives. The truth shall be uncovered in a series of trials that will take place soon, when judges from each district are selected by the people. Until then, they remain imprisoned in the same cells that they imprisoned us in." Another pause.
"Finally, I wish to express my gratitude to the people of Panem for their endless fighting spirits. It is the spirit of revolution and the desire for freedom that gave us the Panem that we have now created, born from the ashes of a dying world that we have extinguished. We have fought for peace, and now the bloodshed is over. There will be no more blood on our hands, and there will be no more blood spilled." I paused as I switched gears. "No one ever failed to remind me of how young I was, and how young so many of the people who were fighting for their freedom were. Not many of us in the districts had the privilege of living such long lives, so many of us were so young. I was sixteen years old when I was reaped for the 74th Annual Hunger Games. I was seventeen when I was rescued from the arena during the Third Quarter Quell. I was eighteen when I commanded my first mission throughout the districts, and I did that until I was twenty. I am twenty years old now, and I have helped lead a rebellion that brought about a change to the world that we all so desperately wanted to see. I will close my speech with this statement. It comes from a speech given during a time of revolution and civil unrest in the country that used to occupy the land that Panem now is, now two centuries ago." I cleared my throat one final time.
"Rebellions are born in the heart of the young, who fight for the futures of their children, their grandchildren, and every generation beyond. Those of us who fight know that we may not live to reap the fruits of our victories, but we know that someday, the world may be a better place for the future generations. We fight not for us, but for them. Revolution is in the hands of the young, and the young will always inherit the revolution."
I paused for effect one final time, in a way that Peeta might have. "Thank you, all of you, and welcome to the future of the new Panem." As I left my position at the microphone, the people of Panem cheered, and many of them gave the three-fingered salute. I sat back down as someone else took over the microphone for some closing words, but I wasn't paying attention to who that was. My mind was elsewhere now, and my stomach had butterflies in it. Now that my speech was over, I had to face the next biggest thing that scared me - Peeta.
My mental state was destroyed after the war ended. I may have appeared fine and well on the outside, but inside, I was at a constant war with myself, and it got worse and worse with every passing day. I hated myself and what I had become, what the war had made me. I had never been the peace-preaching, violence-hating, passionate woman that I am today, but I suppose three years of what felt to be an endless, violent, bloody war really does take its toll on a person. I wanted to cry for Calum, for Donnel and for Prim, but the tears refused to come. I wanted to cry for the emptiness inside of me, but my eyes remained dry. I wanted to run to Peeta, to throw my arms around him and bury my face in his chest and sob uncontrollably while he comforted me, but the little demon that the war had planted inside of my head told me that I wasn't allowed to be loved or wanted, that Peeta would never love or want me again. That as soon as he saw me, he would turn me away and call me horrible, disgusting things. I almost had it in me to get up and run away, get on a train and run off to some distant district to start my life over again, but I had debated the thought in my head for too long. I saw a shadow eclipse the sun and when I looked up, Haymitch was standing in front of me.
"Come on, sweetheart. Time to go and see the boy," he told me. He offered his arm to me respectfully, not knowing of the unseen war that was raging inside of me, and led me to a black car that waited in the street. The ride to the hospital took ten minutes, and with every step I took towards Peeta's room, I shook more and more, until Haymitch stopped me and put a hand over mine. "The hell are you so scared for? The boy loves you, you know that," he told me firmly, but the fear in my eyes told him that I couldn't understand his words. "If I didn't think seein' him was good for you, I wouldn't be makin' you do it. Once you get a look at the boy and how much better he's doin', all this fear will drain out of you and you'll be laughin' at how ridiculous you're bein' right now." I hoped he was right. His words were enough for me to calm and compose myself for a moment, but only until he led me into Peeta's room and I saw him lying on his bed.
This room was different from the last one. It was more like the hospital room that I had stayed in, only a little bigger. He was no longer in isolation. His skin looked much better, that much was true, and his hair was starting to grow back, but he had a lot of bandages on his head, so it was hard to tell for sure. His eyes were closed, and for a moment, I thought he was dead, but the steady rise and fall of his chest that matched the steady beep of the monitor told me that he was just sleeping. Something was different about him - not the burns, not the lack of hair, not all the tubes sticking out of him, but something else, something I couldn't put my finger on. My eyes fell to the blankets that he lay under, and as I noticed an imbalance in Peeta's form beneath the blankets, I heard him whisper my name.
"Katniss..." I looked up into his face just in time to see his blue eyes flutter open, and he smiled at me in the only way he could. It was filled with pain, but he couldn't feel an ounce of it, not with all the morphling they were pumping into him. "Hey..."
"Hi," I said back, stuttering slightly. Haymitch stood by the door while I stood about two feet from the foot of Peeta's bed watching him, fear etched on my face. I couldn't see him like this. He looked so broken, so beaten, so hurt. How dare he mock me with that smile on his face? He hated me, he didn't want to see me, not really. He only called me here to tell me how much he hated me for killing his family, for nearly killing him, for killing the only brother he had left, and he was going to do it in front of Haymitch to humiliate me more. The demonic voice inside of my head wouldn't let up today, especially not with Peeta right in front of me.
"I saw your speech," he said sleepily, his voice filled with warmth. "You looked incredible up there... Everything you said was incredible. You're such an incredible person. I am so proud of you." He was clearly speaking through a drug-induced state, and he reached out a hand to me. "Come here..." I shook my head fearfully, quickly. "Katniss, please..."
"Go to him, sweetheart," said Haymitch, but I just couldn't bring myself to reach for Peeta's outstretched hand. His eyes looked sad as I failed to take his hand and I could have sworn I saw a tear forming at his eye.
"I can't," I whispered, more to myself than anyone else in the room.
"Katniss-" Haymitch began, taking a step towards me, but I cut him off.
"I can't! I can't! I'm sorry, but I can't!" I screeched, and I pushed past him and ran for the door, disappearing down the corridor before Haymitch could call for someone to stop me. I had to get out of here, out of Peeta's room, out of the hospital, out of the goddamn Capitol. I had to escape, but where to? Where was a place that I could go to hide? And suddenly, I knew where...
PEETA POV
Why wouldn't she take my hand? Why would she run away like that? Was the extent of my injuries too hideous for her to bear? I called after her as she ran, but she disappeared, and when Haymitch returned, there were tears streaming down my cheeks. "Why doesn't she want me?" I moaned through tears, and Haymitch pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to me to wipe my eyes with.
"She ain't been the best mentally, not since... well, you know. The kid, her sister, her brother, your brother," Haymitch replied, and I nodded in understanding. "She'll come around. Once she calms down, I'll make sure she gets the help she needs and then, you two can have your happy ending." He wasn't mocking me like he usually was, not was he mocking Katniss. In his voice was actual sorrow, laced with sympathy and he gave off a fatherly aura. I gave a gentle smile in response and nodded.
"Please. Whatever she needs, make sure she gets it. And if that means I have to stay away for a little while, then I will," I said back. As much as it hurt me that Katniss didn't want to be around me, I couldn't blame her after everything she went through. She easily lost everyone she loved and cared about. Prim, Calum, even Donnel, the baby, almost me... but what about Gale? Did she lose Gale? When I was watching a recap of the Senate meeting that Haymitch had attended in my place (he made sure I saw what took place there since I had to resume my position as soon as I was able) I watched as she hissed at Gale about him killing Prim. I didn't know what that meant, but the hateful look in her eye told me that Gale was most definitely no longer a concern, not that he ever really had been before. "Haymitch," I said before he left, and he turned back to face me. "Does she know about..."
"No. Let's not shock her too much in one day," he told me. "Get some sleep. I'll see you soon." He then left, leaving me to my thoughts. Part of me was glad she didn't know yet, but at the same time, I didn't want to shock her when she eventually did find out.
My lower right leg. When the second set of parachutes went off, there was one lying close enough to me to blast my lower right leg off. Originally it had just been my foot, but there was so much extensive damage and so many burns that they ended up amputating it about halfway down my shin. I could still feel it sometimes. Sometimes it itched, and sometimes it ached, but I knew they were only phantom sensations. The leg wasn't there anymore, so there was no way that I could feel those things there anymore.
Despite all of the morphling coursing through my veins, nothing could stop the heartache and the pain from loneliness. I longed for Katniss, wanted so badly to hold her and kiss her and comfort her, wipe away her tears and tell her that everything was going to be okay, that she didn't have to be strong because I was going to be strong for her. But I couldn't even do that. I had woken up only last night and learned that the rebellion had been over for almost a week and a half by now, and that we had won. I blacked out in a world led by a man who clearly hated his people and wanted to hurt them, and I woke up in a world where I could finally breathe. But Katniss wasn't by my side, and that made my heart ache.
Donnel, too, was dead. My brother, the only surviving member of my family left. He died protecting me, throwing himself over me when the bomb went off. I lost my foot, he lost both of his legs. I was knocked unconscious and evidently, he didn't stop calling for help until it came and his last words were him begging the doctors to salvage whatever they could from him and give it to me. Some of the skin grafts I was given came from him, after he died. I was literally wearing my brother like a shirt. I felt sick thinking about it.
And then the baby. Poor little Lark, or Donald, who never had a chance to live. Part of me was angry with myself for allowing Katniss to come to the Capitol. If I hadn't, she wouldn't be so afraid of me and the baby would still be living. Or the clump of cells. I suppose she was hardly far enough along for the baby to really have had a chance. Had she been seven months into her pregnancy, it could have been different, but she was hardly over a month. It wouldn't have been fair for me to say no to Katniss coming here anyway, I knew how frustrated she was with not having been in Two when the Nut was taken.
Haymitch came back several hours later with Carolina in tow and she sat down beside me to take my hand. The sweet, serene look on her face couldn't hide the sadness in her eyes, nor could it hide the bad news she was about to tell me. "Hi, Peeta," she said with that fake smile.
"What happened," I demanded, and I looked up at Haymitch, who let out a sigh.
"We don't know where your crazy wife went," he said.
"Dad! She's not crazy!" Carolina hissed at him, and she turned back to me, trying to soothe the panicked look on my face. "Peeta, it's okay. She's not in her room and she's not anywhere we'd normally be able to find her. No one seems to have seen her either, but we're going to find her. I'm sure you can imagine how difficult of a time she's going through..."
"We all are," said Haymitch bitterly. "The whole damn world just changed and she thinks she's gonna get any sympathy for being a little fucked up?"
" Dad! " Carolina hissed at him.
"I lost everything important to me! My mother, my sisters, both of the women I loved, and even you, Carolina! And not to mention every boy and girl I sent to their deaths every year for twenty-four years. You have no idea what that's like. I ain't got sympathy for the girl. Everyone lost someone," Haymitch spat back.
"Dad, she's twenty years old, she just lost two brothers and a sister, her husband nearly died, she just found out that her best friend's bomb was the one that killed her sister and nearly killed her husband, she's being expected to lead the world into a new future and while doing all of that, she suffered a miscarriage, which if you didn't know, takes a massive toll on the body!" Carolina snapped at him. "And not to mention the horrible things that happened to her when she was only a child... The loss of her entire family, being forced into a new identity speaking a language she never spoke, finding out that every year from the ages of twelve and eighteen, she could get selected to compete in a death match for her life! The psychological trauma that she experienced as a child could be tearing her apart right now and yet, here you are, bitching and moaning about how 'everyone lost someone'. Yes, Dad, we know ! But just because everyone lost someone doesn't mean that her pain doesn't matter!" At that, Haymitch shut up, seemingly stunned into silence and having not expected that from the meek and friendly Carolina, and then she turned to face me. "We'll find her, Peeta, and we'll get her help. I promised you before that I would help keep her safe and that promise didn't end just because the rebellion ended."
"Thank you," I said to her, and she smiled warmly at me, then stood.
"Come on, Dad, I have some ideas of where she might have gone and that requires checking some cameras," she said, and she left, Haymitch following behind her.
Wherever my Katniss was, I reached out to her in my thoughts, begging her to remember the love I felt for her and sending her a warm embrace to keep her safe from whatever horrors invaded her mind. The one thing they don't tell you about being strong is that you don't have time to break down when everything becomes too difficult, so it eats you alive until it overwhelms you and breaks you. The strong don't like to be seen as weak, so they hide it away until it bursts out, unwilling to be hidden any longer. In Katniss's case, she had been so strong for twelve years, and the hardest, scariest parts of her life that were hiding in the deepest, darkest crevices of her mind had broken out and were consuming her.
HAYMITCH POV
That crazy kid. That crazy fuckin' kid. What the hell did she think she was doing, running off like that? That boy needed her and she ran away to hide in her own sorrows. I guess I shoulda taken Carolina's words to heart. She was right, Katniss had gone through so much shit in her life that it was no surprise that her mind broke down. Mine did, a long time ago, and here I was bein' some damn hypocrite tellin' her she couldn't do it. I broke down because I didn't have the support I needed to cope with my demons, and now she's done the same. And I was part of the cause.
I'd come to view Katniss and Peeta as my own kids, even if they didn't view me as a father figure. After mentoring them through the Games and them both somehow surviving against all odds, I felt that I finally had a bit of family, only for it to be ripped away again at the mention of the Quarter Quell. Ah, Snow, that son of a bitch... still punishing me for my actions in my Games. How did I know I wasn't supposed to use that weird ass fuckin' antigravity cliff to my advantage? There weren't supposed to be any rules in the arena.
There weren't any rules to life, neither. Most of us blindly follow government laws whether they're fair or not, and that's what the people of Panem did for seventy-five years, until Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark came along. Those two kids, the spark of the rebellion... They sparked it together, the perfect combination to light a powder keg. A girl who would do anything to survive and a boy who loved her and would do anything for her. They were so broken, both of 'em, but they had each other. When they finally fell in love, I was so happy for both of 'em, but sad also, knowing how miserable their lives were going to be with the Capitol breathin' down their damn necks. I think I realised it before they did. I knew about the boy's feelings, but seein' 'em interact on the Victory Tour, when the girl's eyes started lookin' at him when she thought he couldn't see with the same look that he gave her, I knew that they were doomed. Doomed to a fate of fallin' in love, a danger to one another. Snow wasn't wrong about love bein' a weakness. He used it against me to break me, too. But love is a strong and powerful bond that can't be broken by anyone except who that bond connects. The Capitol could take 'em and do whatever he wanted to 'em, but if they continued to have the strength to hold that love that they shared, that bond would never break.
But now, I was worried the girl was gonna break it. She seemed so afraid of him. Why? I don't fuckin' know. She couldn't get enough of the boy until the damn war came to an end. I didn't know what demons rattled around in her head, but whatever they were, they were tryin' to convince her that she didn't love him, or that he didn't love her. Nothin' could be farther from the truth. Carolina and I were checkin' leftover surveillance cameras throughout the Capitol and we found one of a train platform in the Capitol and I saw the girl, peach dress hangin' loose on her and sweetly curled hair now a mess, waiting on the platform for the arrival of the train. It arrived, she got on, and it departed.
"Check all of the platforms in all the other districts," ordered Carolina to the guy watchin' the cameras. "Keep an eye on them, for the next few days."
"I know where she's goin'," I said suddenly, and Carolina looked at me, bearing the same blue eyes I had - the same blue eyes that once belonged to my mother. "When's the next train to District Twelve leave?"
Later that day, about an hour before the next train bound for Twelve left, I went to see the boy again. It was obvious he'd been cryin' all day from the red puffiness of his eyes, but he tried his best to hide it. Even at his weakest, he still wanted to be the strong one. "She's in Twelve, or goin' to it," I told him.
"She is?" he said, his face lighting up, and I nodded. "As soon as they let me out of here, I'm going straight to her-" I held up a hand to stop him.
"Ah, ah, ah... Boy, you got a long road to recovery ahead of you. You gotta get fit for a prosthetic and you also gotta learn how to walk on it, not to mention you still got a ton of burns that need to heal before that can even be done. And now that Crazy's run off, they wanna do a mental examination on ya," I told him, interrupting him, and the smile on his face faded. Poor, poor kid.
"I can't take this anymore, Haymitch," he told me with annoyance, and I couldn't help but laugh.
"I know, kid, I know. Look, I'm goin' to Twelve in an hour. I've had her declared mentally unstable so she legally can't leave and I'll do what I can to get her the help she needs, but I can't promise nothin'. That girl's stubborn and you know it," I replied, and he let out a soft chuckle.
"I don't understand why she went to Twelve. She was talking about going to Four and wanting to move there," the boy told me, and I shrugged.
"She knows Twelve. Maybe a familiar place is what she needed in whatever mental episode she had," I told him. "Rest up. The more you rest, the faster you'll get better, and get back to us quickly. I can only stand her for so long by myself." I left the poor kid to rest and within an hour, I was off to Twelve. It's a couple days' journey from the Capitol to Twelve so I indulged myself in a good drink before I had to face that stubborn nut job that the poor boy was head over heels for. She couldn't have been back more than a day before me so when I arrived, I expected to find her at home, but instead, she was coming back from a hunt. She looked surprised to see me, and I gave her a smirk. "There's our favourite nut job!" I said to her.
"What are you doing here?" she asked me defensively, and I laughed.
"What am I doing here? Keeping an eye on you, of course, that's what. You think you can just run off like that? I don't think so, missy," I replied with amusement.
"Guess I'm not staying then," she replied, turning back towards her home in Victors' Village, and I let out another laugh.
"Good luck with that, sweetheart. I had you declared mentally unstable so you can't leave without express permission from the government and you have to be treated by a psychologist," I told her victoriously, and she glared at me.
"How dare you?" she spat at me.
"How dare I? How dare you ? You left that poor boy to fend for himself with a lonely broken heart. How can he be your entire world one day and the next, mean next to nothing to you?" I asked her angrily, and her scowl became even more aggressive.
"You don't understand," she hissed.
"Oh, I understand perfectly fine," I replied. "It's you who don't understand. A man called Dr. Aurelius is gonna call you every day until you answer him. Pick up, don't pick up, I don't care, but you ain't leavin' until you're better and you remember how much that boy loves you. You know you didn't marry him for nothin'."
"Why do you care so much?"
"If he were just a boy toy, I wouldn't, but he ain't. He's your damn husband, kiddo. Love the poor boy like you promised him you would." She sent one more furious glare my way before she stomped towards her home, slamming the door behind her, I let out a chuckle to myself and took a sip from my flask. "Poor, poor kid..." I stalked back to my own house - dark, bleak, quiet, musty, lonely - and locked myself away into my own alcoholic stupor.