The Fallen

Summary – Peeta Mellark is the Winner of the 74th Hunger Games after Katniss Everdeen sacrifices herself to save his life. He soon finds himself in the middle of the rebellion as their beacon of hope, their Mockingjay. But as Peeta will soon discover, not all fallen tributes stay dead.

Disclaimer: These are all Suzanne Collin's toys. They're just in my playground.

A/N: Hello thanks for the love for the last chapter I'm glad y'all enjoyed it. Again sorry for the delay in posting this, the chapter has been sat waiting for me to edit it on my doc manager for some time now but my 5 year old son is currently recovering from foot surgery so I've been at his beck and call and too tired in the inbetween.

Anyway enough of my excuses, we're switching back to Peeta and seeing things from his perspective on the day of the Games.

Please review/follow/favourite if you haven't already. Enjoy x


Today was the day everything would change and I was a barrel of nerves. I arrived at the Game Centre two hours before the start of the Games because I was advised by Effie to try and get a head-start mingling with the Capitol citizens. She suggested that I needed to turn on the charm to try and win more sponsors for my tributes. After their performance during the interviews, she said I would need all the help I could get. As unnecessary as I knew that would be this year, I did as she asked and continued to act like the current reigning victor and mentor I was, pretending that there was nothing out of the ordinary going on.

I arrived with Finnick, who didn't have a companion on his arm for once. Once the Tributes were in the arena he was expected to be on 24hr mentor duty which gave him a brief get out clause of the other 'work' he was expected to do for Snow.

The Game Centre was the main hub for all things Hunger Games once the tributes were live in the arena. Even though I had never set foot in this building before, during our planning phase I had come to learn everything there was to know about the place right down to the blueprints. If anything went wrong, we needed to know about every possible escape route and have a back-up plan in place.

There were 3 basement floors in the building, the top one was where you would find Claudius Templesmith and Caesar Flickerman sat behind their desks, commentating on the Games. The middle basement floor was essentially the nerve centre, it was where you would find Plutarch and the Game Makers behind their consoles, controlling every single aspect of the arena. The bottom basement floor wasn't exactly public knowledge, in fact it wasn't even on the buildings blueprints. We only knew about it because of Plutarch's status as head Gamemaker. It was a laboratory where the Capitol scientists came up with their nasty mutt creations and awful arena traps. The fact that the place was a closely guarded secret said a lot about the kind of experiments they must have conducted in there. The mere thought of it made sent shivers down my spine.

The top 2 floors were reserved exclusively for the Mentors. The top floor was our 'hive', it was where the Mentors could watch the Games when we weren't at the parties, sweet talking the Capitol citizens. We had access to more footage and different camera angles than what was being aired to the general public.

The next floor down had private bedrooms with adjoining bathrooms for each Mentor. The Hunger Games was a 24-hour gig so there needed to be somewhere nearby for the Mentors to rest up, not that we were planning for the opportunity to use any of those facilities this year.

A couple of the top floors underneath ours, were hotel suites that had been rented out to the most wealthy, as if this place was a holiday destination. Haymitch predicted that most of the paying guests already lived within a 6 block radius, but at least this way they could party until they pass out, wake up and start all over again. He also pointed out that some of these people were most likely to be a part of Snow's inner circle, the same people responsible for hurting Katniss and the other Fallen Tributes. A thought I didn't wish to dwell on.

Underneath the guest room floors, was the 'quiet floor' which was mainly to separate the bedrooms from the noise of the parties below. This floor had a large room simply named 'The Quiet Room' where it was said to be a tranquil space, lots of cosy chairs, books and magazines to read. There were TVs available to keep track of the games but the sound was only accessible through headphones. The spa was also located on this floor.

Underneath that were multiple floors worth of parties. There were 2 or 3 large rooms per floor, each of these rooms hosted a party, each with a different vibe or theme. The parties ran continuously throughout the duration of the Games. People could come and go as they please, change things up with a different vibe in a different room. No matter where you went in the building or which 'party' you went to, you would find a bounty of beautifully presented food and drink constantly being replenished, large screens so that you could follow footage of The Games, no matter where you stood, and of course, plenty of vendors to place bets or sponsor a tribute.

I followed Finnick into one of the party rooms, the theme of which was 'Dripping in Diamonds'. No matter how many times I had attended Capitol parties, I was always astounded by their extravagance. This theme wasn't an exaggeration by any stretch of the imagination and no expense was spared on the décor. The room was white and silver, with diamonds hanging from everyone and everything. Diamonds also embellished every piece of furniture in the room. The lights reflecting off the jewels created a beautiful rainbow light show around the room. It was almost too dazzling to look at, it was so bright.

As usual, the women flocked towards Finnick, each one trying to vie for his attention. "Finnick Odair, reprising his role one last time," he whispered closely to my ear and then gave me a wink, "Ladies!" he smiled at them all, his outstretched arms pulled the nearest woman closer to him. I rolled my eyes. Even with everything I knew now, I still found it hard to believe that Finnick hated this lifestyle whenever I saw him at these events. He was so good at playing his role.

I entered another room themed 'Pool Party'. I walked into this room feeling like I had stepped back outside. From the floor, up the walls and to the ceiling, it looked and felt like the sun was shining down on us. There was even a smell similar to the salty sea breeze air I found in District Four. It was blowing my mind a little that I wasn't actually outside and in fact I was on the 5th floor of a tower block.

The room was massive and they actually had a large pool filled with outrageous inflatables shaped like pizza slices, exotic birds and giant donuts in the centre of it. There was a bar made out of bamboo with real fire torches either side of it and there was a large pig on a spit roast near the buffet table. The women were wearing skirts made from long dry grass and some had even fashioned bras out of coconuts or large shells. The men were wearing brightly colored shirts depicting fruit, birds or strange looking trees. Everyone seemed to have brightly colored fake floral garlands around their necks. A women put one around my neck as I entered the room, "Welcome Peeta!" she smiled. Did these people change clothes depending on which party they visited? Everyone seemed to keep in with each theme.

The lengths that the Capitol went to, to keep their citizens happy was shocking. I thought about all the wasted food and drink and the amount of money spent to make all of this happen, yet many people in District Twelve couldn't even afford a loaf of bread. Did these people even realise that? Did they realise what even a fraction of the money spent in just one of these rooms could do for an entire District town for a whole year? Where was the fairness or justice in that?

Sometimes it was hard to remember that they didn't know any better, this way of living was all they had ever known. Snow was very good at hiding his evil deeds from his people, but that didn't offer me much solace at times like these. Especially now that I knew just how evil some of those deeds were and knew what some of the people here were putting Katniss and the others through.

It was hard not to dwell on the fact that some of the people around me now, in this room possibly, but in this building for sure, that knew all about those evil deeds and even participated in them. Each person I spoke could be a suspect, I couldn't help but wonder if the last person I spoke to or walked past was guilty of those crimes and had the audacity to mock me to my face. I couldn't help but wonder which vile person here might have forced themselves on Katniss. I hated feeling that way. I hated being suspicious of everyone. I knew that the Capitol people were mostly good, people such as Effie, Portia, Cinna and the rest of my prep team, for instance.

For most of these people, their only crime was their ignorance to the pain, suffering, and mistreatment of the people in the District, but even that wasn't their fault, not entirely, Snow had brainwashed them for years to see things in a very specific way. Some, like Cinna, were smart enough to see past it. But the Capitol world was such a comfortable bubble to be lost in, it's not surprising that the people wanted to look the other way at the true horrors around them.

My whole life, I had never experienced issues with my anger. My mom would often beat me, but would hardly ever raise a hand to my brothers, and my dad would often look the other way because he was too afraid to stand up to her. That alone should have given me every excuse in the world to be filled with rage, but it wasn't until I thought Katniss had died that I felt real rage for the first time. Those first few months of surviving the arena were nothing but a rollercoaster of emotions, anger being the most dominant one for a long time.

However, since I joined the rebellion, I was able to channel that anger into something productive. It had helped me start to feel like my old self again. Though I knew that what I went through was bound to change me in some way. I told Katniss that I didn't want to let the Games change me and I intend to keep that promise to her. At least I knew I would never become what they wanted me to be, what Snow wanted me to be. If I had to change, then I made sure that it was for the better, so that I could do whatever it takes to stop The Games from changing anyone else ever again.

I wondered how Katniss had changed in the last year. I knew without a doubt that her circumstances were much more traumatic than mine and it must have altered her in some way. Rex already alluded to the fact that she wasn't okay. I knew that she would have a long road of healing ahead of her, but if I could at least prove to her that I kept my promise she might see that healing for her was possible. These emotions were not going to best me now, not while we were so close to rescuing her. I had become better than that.

For the last time, I managed to play the role of the grateful victor to perfection. I smiled, waved and chatted with the people to pass the time, I made small talk and encouraged people to back my tributes. I explored some more of the different party rooms, each new one I entered seemed to be more extreme than the last. All the while, the plan was circling around in my head. We had gone over it a million times accounting for any possible scenario. I was afraid to be overconfident, but deep down I knew that this would work, it would go off without a hitch and we would save Katniss.

As I explored some the different rooms, I saw some of the other past victors, some I knew were rebels, some I wasn't so sure. But I knew that whether or not they were a mentor, they still had to show their faces around here at some point. It just goes to show us that no matter what, we have no freewill. We are never truly a part of this Capitol world, Snow never lets us forget that we are from the Districts, we are his slaves and we don't get to escape this life.

"Can all Mentor's please sign in at their Pod station. This your 30 minute call," A voice rang out over the speakers, much to my relief.

"I'm so sorry, Ladies." I said to the women who were currently asking me who they think they should be placing their bets on out of my 2 Tributes, "Duty calls," I headed out into the corridor and for the elevator, as were some of the other mentors who were currently on this floor.

The elevator doors opened out on the top floor and I stepped out onto the mentors floor, otherwise known as the Hive. Each District had its own designated area. Twelve large pods in a circle around the room positioned like the numbers on the face of a clock.

Each pod consisted of two rounded red couches facing each other, almost forming a perfect circle but with gaps on either end for access. In the centre of these couches were clear round tables with large transparent screens hovering above them, as if they were floating. The screens were split into quarters, displaying 4 different camera angles in the arena, two of which would follow the male and female tribute for each District at all times. The third showed us the coverage of the games that was being aired live to the nation, including commentary from Claudius and Caesar. The forth was a map that showed us where each of the tributes were, on that screen we could also select from any of the thousands of cameras planted in the arena, which would be useful if for example there was another tribute hunting down one ours, we could tap into a camera near where that tribute was to keep an eye on them so we could determine how best we could help our own tributes with sponsor gifts.

Haymitch was already at our pod at the top of the room. Twelve o'clock, District Twelve. I went over and joined him. "Hey," I greeted him

"Welcome to the Hive, kid," he replied and grabbed a small tablet device resting on the table in our pod.

"What's that?" I asked

"This is our control panel," he explained,

He swiped a finger across the screen. The screen turned white and an automated female voice said, 'Hello District Twelve. Mentor 1. Please state your name.' "Haymitch Abernathy." He told the panel.

The screen glowed green, "Thank you, Haymitch. Welcome back," the automated voice said and then in the exact same tone as before, it said, 'Mentor 2. Please state your name'

Haymitch handed it to me and I surprised by how light it was, "Oh, uhm. Peeta Mellark," I stumbled over my words a bit, I wondered if it understood what I had said.

The screen turned green again, "Hello, Peeta, and welcome. Congratulations on your Victory." It responded, "Both District Twelve mentors are now signed in and present. Happy Hunger games and may the odds be ever in your favour."

"That's creepy," I muttered

"Sure is, it uses voice recognition, so it knows if you're you, just from your voice." he replied

"So, what is this thing for?" I asked him

"It controls the 4th screen up there," he gestured to the screen, and demonstrated how he could change from the map to select any of the cameras in the arena. He then scrolled to two tabs, each labelled with the name of our tributes, he clicked onto Clay's page. "Here is where we keep track of any sponsors the tributes gets," he pointed out a section that said 'ZERO BALANCE' "when there are funds available we can access a 'shop' to provide our tribute with what they need, whether its food, medicine, equipment or weapons to send into the arena, price ranges start from ridiculously expensive all the way up to 'in your dreams".

He then tapped on a button next to the balance total that said 'shop' and there was a page for food and water, a page for medical supplies, tools and weapons. Each item listed a price underneath in and my jaw dropped to the floor, "Yeah, tell me about it," Haymitch rolled his eyes. It was no wonder that mentors couldn't just send their tributes what they wanted when they wanted. The price for a bottle of water could buy you one of Tigris's new suits. I told Haymitch before our games to donate any of my sponsors for Katniss. I'm glad I did, just looking at the prices of the things Haymitch had sent to her last year were disbelieving.

Haymitch tapped back to Clays main page, "Most importantly though, the trackers they inject the tributes with monitor their vitals. We can keep an eye on their heart rates, blood pressure, oxygen levels and all of that medical mumbo jumbo so that if their in trouble, we can watch helplessly unless we have enough money to do jack shit about it,"

"Monitors the tributes vitals, huh?" I wondered aloud, "Is that a new feature?"

"No, why?" he responded automatically, but then the look of recognition in his eyes told me he had caught up with my train of thought.

If the mentors were being shown their tributes vitals, they would be able to see exactly when they died. But not all the tributes have died or at least hadn't died for long enough to stay dead. Just how accurate were these? How often were they meddled with, and seeing as Plutarch had no prior knowledge to any of this, who exactly was meddling with this? "No reason," I shrugged

"Let's head over to the Bar," Haymitch suggested, I knew he wasn't planning on getting drunk as there was too much at stake. In the centre of the room there was a help yourself bar and buffet.

Haymitch's friend from District Eleven, Chaff, was already at the bar, he clapped an arm around Haymitch's back and they fell into an easy discussion as old friends do. Chaff handed me a drink. It looked like the same stuff Haymitch usually drank "Dutch courage?" he offered

"Probably not a good idea," Haymitch warned, "the kids not a seasoned drinker, too much of that stuff will have him seeing double,"

I took a small sip anyway, although the amber liquid burned the back of my throat, it instantly warmed me on the inside. I could see the appeal and that's what worried me, so I put it down and headed back to our pod where Effie came to join me. The Escorts were not usually allowed up here, but I had sent for her. For appearances I explained that I required her help as it's my first time as a mentor, claiming Haymitch was too useless to help me in this role due to his usually inebriated state. The excuse was valid and was bought. An allowance was made to account for this and Effie was allowed to join us.

In reality, I had insisted to the rebels that I wanted Effie to join us when we escaped. I had developed a soft spot for her and looked up to her in almost a motherly way. I had noticed that Effie was beginning to grow sympathetic towards the treatment of the people in the Districts and was slowly turning against the idea of the Hunger Games, so I wanted her to be safe. Snow would probably assume that she may have been involved in this scheme somehow, so I feared for her. Effie, was oblivious to the whole situation though, she appeared to feel quite privileged that she was invited up here, "The other escorts will be green with envy," she chuckled to herself

When there was only 10 minutes left to go, one of the four split screens came to life and we were greeted by Caesar Flickerman and Claudius Templesmith introducing the beginning of the 75th annual Hunger Games and talked about how it was a special year being the quarter quell. After the introduction, they discussed the Tributes, who were going to be heading into the arena in just a few minutes. I wondered how Juniper and Clay were doing. I remembered that gut wrenching feeling I felt this time last year, it had to be twice as bad for them.

I didn't want to listen to the commentary anymore. Haymitch returned from the bar just as everyone else was getting ready in their pods now. It was almost showtime. My stomach was in knots. The screen cut from Caesar and Claudius and into the inside of the arena. We were getting our very first look at what they built. This year's arena was a desert waste land. There was very little signs of water, vegetation or shelter. If this had been last year's set up, I would have been dead within the first five minutes.

There were some rocky caverns on one end of the arena and, according to Claudius, were the only sources of shelter and water in the whole arena not counting the supplies in the cornucopia. So this was how they were planning to keep thrusting people together this year. If this was a normal year, an arena like this would cause several blood baths and would end the Games in just a few days. But this year, I guess this was what Snow had the Capitol people craving. Fortunately, that wasn't going to happen this year.

They showed us images of some deadly giant scorpion mutts that were scattered around the area the poison in their stingers was apparently developed from the tracker jacker venom but with an even more deadly punch to it before the camera panned back to the cornucopia. The camera's focused on the 24 platforms surrounding it and they continued to talk more about what they thought was in store for this years games a few minutes more until, finally, there was movement as the tributes rose through the chutes onto their platforms. The clock appeared on the screen on the cornucopia started counting down from 60 seconds.

We could now hear the cheering from the floors below us, disgusted I exchanged looks with Finnick. Even though it was too late to go back now, I knew wholeheartedly we were doing the right thing. I watched the tributes on the screen standing on their platforms. Everyone was stood tall and proud. My two tributes were smiling even.

I was more nervous this time watching the countdown than I was last year standing on one of those platforms myself. This year there was so much more riding on this than just keeping Katniss alive. She needed rescuing. All the Districts in Panem needed rescuing.

10. 9. 8. 7. 6. 5. 4. 3. 2. 1. Here we go.

As soon as the countdown ended, Chaff and Haymitch got up and ran over to the District One pod and Johanna and Finnick got up and ran to the District Two pod. Before the former career tributes could react, they injected a sleeping serum into the necks of Gloss, Cashmere, Enobaria and Brutus. As this happened, everyone else made a dash for the stairwell ensuring that Beetee and Wiress, who were pivotal to the plan, were out first and on the aircraft safely.

The sleeping serum easily worked its magic on the brother-sister duo of District One and Enobaria, but Brutus managed to stand up and took a wobbly swing at Finnick. "Shit!" Finnick cried. He ducked and ran at Brutus grabbing him round the waist and tackling him to the ground. Brutus, however, was still fighting the effects of the serum and grabbed Finnick by the neck, rolled him over and pinned him to the floor. I stopped to try and help but Johanna beat me to it, she grabbed the large bottle of champagne sat on their table and swung the bottle swiftly over his head, finishing the job and knocking him out cold. Brutus had landed on Finnick, but I helped Johanna roll him off and help him to his feet.

He nodded, I felt awful, but I knew that it had to be done. They were a potential risk to the plan as no one here knew where their allegiance lied. But at least they would wake in a few hours, albeit with sore heads.

Effie, meanwhile, was horrified at the scene going on around her as I ran back over to her and grabbed her hand, dragging her out of the room and up the stairs with me, "Peeta!" what on earth is going on?" she cried, "This is not good etiquette. Where are we all going?"

I paused briefly and turned to her, "Effie, do you trust me?" I asked her, her face was solemn as she nodded slowly and she had the sense not to resist me, we picked up the pace. When we got to roof, most of our friends had already boarded the craft, Plutarch and Cinna were stood in the doorway waving at us to hurry, "Quickly," Plutarch urged. The rest of us had made it aboard safely. There was a screen on board so we could all keep an eye on what was being televised. The aircraft took off just as our tributes were taking a stand, long before any of our faces appeared on the screens.

The portable devices that Beetee put together in the hub the other night were already on board waiting for Beetee and Wiress to use. He connected them to a large computer that was built into the craft on the left-hand side and they were already hard at work. Wiress was in charge of hacking into the air traffic controls to mask the two getaway aircrafts fleeing the Capitol today, while Beetee was hacking into the broadcast system ready to leak our footage on the air side by side the live feed of the arena, as well as trying to hack into Snow's secret mansion.

Some of the other past victors who were in on this plan, that weren't mentors this year, had made it safely it on board in advance and I was relieved to see Portia was among them. My eyes flickered up to the screen listening to the stories of the rebels in the arena. I was so proud of these people for sharing their stories, both the tribute's in the arena, who I wished so badly that we could have saved too, and my new friends surrounding me now.

Beetee's forehead was sweating and he was typing furiously. I went over with a bottle of water and put a straw in it so he could have a drink without stopping.

Gratefully he took a long sip and thanked me, "How is it going?" I asked,

He knew what I was really asking, with a wry smile he said, "Wiress is working on cutting the power to the mansion now, that should make things easier for them," he replied, "Don't worry. I have no doubt that Katniss is resourceful enough to get them out,"

How easily he saw through me, "What's going on now?" I nodded at his frightful tapping away

"They've picked up on someone trying to hack in and they are working hard to push me back out but I'm almost in" he replied,

"Can I help?" I asked

"Probably not." Beetee responded, "but thank you for your offer and for the water,"

"Beetee, are we in yet?" Plutarch asked leaning over me to get a good look at Beetee's screen

"Almost!" he replied, "In 3, 2, 1… there," we watched the screen split not long after Juniper finished her line and Johanna's face came into focus. We cheered for Beetee's success, but he didn't stop working. It seemed like it was hard work for him to keep the broadcast going, he said he was trying to lock the Gamemakers out of the feed.

I watched as Plutarch made his way over to Wiress, "Are we clear?" he asked her

"I've scrambled all their radars," she giggled like a child, "One minute they're seeing all their aircrafts in the air, then none, then a few and then none again." she giggled again, "I've also faked a handful of authorised flights plans for today in case we're spotted but it's still a good idea to stick to our original flightpath," she said

During our planning, Lyme had suggested that during our escape we shouldn't head in the direction we were going, because not only would it instantly draw suspicion as it was rare for flights to be approved on the first day of the Games as the whole nation was required to tune in, but also it meant that we would be flying directly over the main security control centre, the peacekeepers artillery and flight control, having 1 craft doing that today of all days was risky, but 2? Forget it. Instead, Lyme recommended that we go opposite direction and then once outside of Capitol airspace we would circle back around, reducing the risk of being caught and shot down.

"I've cut the power to the mansion," Wiress informed us then, she turned to me, "Thanks to Rex, he gave us the exact location of the building which made it easy for us to shut down the power and communications to and from that building. By the time anyone figures out what happened, they will be long gone." she assured me

Rex's aircraft was a top of the line craft. It could hit high speeds that this craft could only dream of hitting, with their speed they could risk going the main way out. Their priority was to leave a trail of dust behind them in their wake and go straight to Thirteen as they were the proof we needed to really turn the people against Snow. Surely no one would condone any of these awful acts. Plutarch wanted to take their stories and turn them into propo's and he was certain that would secure our win in this war with minimum casualties.

"Good work, Wiress," Plutarch said, it was excellent work, she got all that done before Johanna finished her pre-recorded big 'fuck you' message to snow.

Everyone else continued to watch our messages on the screen, it was met with mixed reactions, for some it was pride, that this was our way of fighting back and we were finally doing it. For some, the messages invoked their own sad, tragic or awful memories. But Effie was the only one who looked completely horrified having never heard anything like this before.

I went and sat beside her, "Is everything okay?" I asked her

"Is this all true?" she gasped not removing her eyes from the screen

"I'm afraid so," I replied sadly

"I'm so sorry," Effie spoke aloud to the people that were closest around her, her eyes met theirs with genuine concern. Especially for those she had seen on screen telling their stories, "I had no idea. But I assume from these tales that many people in Capitol do. We must seem like monsters to you,"

"Effie, we know not everyone are like that," I put a comforting arm around her, "I knew you weren't like that. That's why I brought you with us,"

A single tear rolled down her cheek leaving a track through her heavy makeup. "People that I considered friends caused so much pain to others," she sniffed,

Portia spoke next, "Effie, they were my friends too," she said softly, "the problem is that Snow made this such commonplace that we didn't seem to realise that what they were doing was wrong. Our whole world in the Capitol warped our sense of right and wrong because we never knew anything different."

"Hopefully this is the wakeup call they all needed," Cinna added, "Decades ago, no one would even watch the Games because all they saw was the brutality of it. But Snow twisted that and soon enough he had the people brainwashed, it's been that way ever since."

"But you two could see through it all," Effie said to them, "There are still some people with their own minds. I just wished I had been one of them,"

"You are now, and that's what matters," I told her, "Some people just need to be shown the truth,"

"We understand how hard it is to break out of that mould," Cinna replied

"It took watching Katniss dying in the arena for me to see the error of my ways," Portia said sadly, "Cinna helped me through it, he became wiser to it many years ago,"

I was always intrigued by Cinna's story and wondered how he ended up involved with the rebellion, "Why did you join the rebels?" I asked him

"When I was young, I was just like everyone else in the Capitol, completely oblivious. I used to look forward to watching the games." he told us, "I never actually felt like these children were suffering real fates. Back then, for me at least, it was all make believe, like you're watching actors in a play. It was so easy to buy into the violence because it was so easy to pretend it's not real. And those that don't buy into the fantasy truly believe that it's suitable punishment for the dark days."

Portia, Effie and even Plutarch nodded, agreeing with his assessment of the situation.

"It wasn't until I was at college, studying for my fashion degree when I started to see the truth. I was thirsty for success and I was willing to do anything to beat my competitors to be the best designer. It was my dream job to be a costume designer for the Hunger Games. So I took it upon myself to visit District Eight, where all the textiles are made, during the summer between my 1st and 2nd year of studying. I wanted to be involved in the whole process and form a deeper connection to the materials that I loved to work with." he spoke about it with such passion, he clearly loves what he does. Or perhaps what he did might be more accurate now.

"Once I arrived there, I headed straight for the factories. I went in and introduced myself and told them who I was and what I wanted to do. They weren't just going to let me look around, they wanted to put me to work and I was happy to get stuck in. I wanted to learn how the fabrics were made and how to make them myself.

I learned later that day that there were no hotels or rooms for rent in the Districts like there is in the Capitol. I was disappointed in myself for not thinking it through, believing that I would have to go straight home, until I met Mila. She was a woman working on the machine next to mine, as we worked, I told her about the predicament I suddenly found myself in. Even though she barely had a penny to her name, she kindly offered to let me stay with her and her family for a few weeks." he explained

"At the time, it was my idea of a worst nightmare. But I had come this far and I was determined to see it through so I thanked her and took here up on the offer. I was soon confronted by the appalling living conditions that the people in the Districts face and I was even more shocked to learn that Eight was by no means the worst." he said looking my way sympathetically.

"I became attached to Mila and her family; her husband had passed away from blood poisoning about a year earlier. She told me that he had a tragic accident with one of the machines in the factory. As soon as his wound was tended to, he was forced to go straight back to work. Because of this and the poor way it was treated, the wound quickly became infected and their healers didn't have enough access to the medicines that could have easily saved his life."

This story was one I had heard many times before in Twelve, men having accidents in the mines, their wounds being improperly treated and not enough medicines to help when their wounds are inevitably infected. It also reminded me of Junipers story.

"I was also staying there during the time the Hunger Games was on. I must have come across so insensitive to them at the time as I so openly supported it. I didn't understand this annual nightmare they faced each year, for me I was so excited because I got the opportunity to witness it first-hand from one of the Districts. An actual reaping I thought my peers would be so jealous of me."

He scoffed at himself, ashamed of the man he once was. Portia placed a hand on his shoulder, "It's okay, Cinna," she murmured softly

"Mila's 13-year-old daughter Freya was one of the reaped, at first I was so thrilled for them. But then I saw the reaction of my new friends was horror instead of joy. I couldn't understand why. I felt like it should have been an honour for them. But as I watched the games coverage with this family each day, as they talked to me about Freya, as they told me the cold hard truth that they faced in the Districts. The reality of it hit me like tonne of bricks and once I saw Freya in the arena it suddenly became very real to me. The fantasy was ruined as I went through all the awful emotions with this poor family. Once the fantasy was stripped away I tried to convince myself that they deserved this because of the part they played during the dark days. Tried to remind myself that this was their punishment. But it was no use, I knew the punishment didn't fit the crime, especially not decades later."

"What became of Freya?" I asked

"She spent a few days hiding out in the arena," Cinna replied, "She lasted much longer than anyone expected, but eventually she was found by the career pack. She met a very grisly end, not only did they murder her slowly and horrifically, they also fed on her because their food supply had been spoiled by a swarm of locusts."

"I remember that year," Haymitch said sadly, "it was the first time and last time that we saw any cannibalism."

"After that my whole reality shifted, my priorities changed, and I wanted to do whatever I could to protect these poor children. I worked my way up and one day I met Plutarch, he sensed right away there was something different about me and after much prodding on either side to work out if we were to be trusted, he invited me into the Rebellion. A few years later as his name went up in the ranks, he managed to get me a spot as a tribute designer,"

"Your work spoke for itself," Plutarch said to his friend, fondly, "All I did was show it to the right people."

Cinna smiled at him and then turned back to Effie and I, "I chose District Twelve knowing they were the most unfortunate of the Districts and I thought that if they knew that they had someone from the Capitol who was on their side, it would hold more weight for them than for any other District,"

I was grateful for Cinna, he did just that. I knew Katniss was fond of him and she never let anyone close. I knew his presence during our time during the Games meant a lot to her.

"Thank you," I told him, "It meant a lot to us both,"

"Thank you, Peeta," he smiled softly,

My face was on the screens now, "These stories from my new friends are truly awful. But recently we learned about one more truly awful act. Snow has an even bigger secret, one that he is afraid to get out..." the me on the screen was looking down and took a deep and sharp breath, I remembered how angry and nervous I was at the time. I still was angry and nervous, but the discovery was still so fresh and raw then.

"We have just discovered that President Snow has a mansion here in the Capitol, right under our very noses where he has been keeping people captive." I told the world, "You might be thinking that I'm being ridiculous, that if so many people were going missing and being held against their will, then someone would surely have noticed by now."

Effie squeezed my hand gently, she didn't know about this part, and I knew it was going to come as a bit of a shock.

"But this is the part that is truly diabolical. We would never have known that these people have gone missing at all, because we have all been led to believe that these people are already dead. For decades Snow has been plucking Hunger Games contestants that had 'died' in the arena, saving the ones that he or his friends deemed desirable. And he uses them to entertain and amuse his top circle of friends and colleagues for sick sexual fantasies. I'm saddened to report that my love, my Katniss has been confirmed as one of these captives. One of The Fallen, as they call them."

On-screen-me was dressed in that beautiful peacock paisley suit from Cinna, the one I wore to the party that night. "You might be thinking that we are lying to you, to turn you against the Capitol. You might try to rationalise it by thinking that they're some form of simulations or clones instead. You'd be wrong, with the science and medication available to the Capitol they've been able to bring these poor souls back from the brink of death. I wished more than anything that I could tell you I was wrong about this." I felt all those emotions come rushing back again and I didn't care to fight back the tears, "I've been saying all this time that I would give anything for her to be alive. But not like this. She must be so afraid." Effie was sobbing out loud now

"Soon we will show you proof, Panem. Because I'm getting my girl back. Katniss. I'm coming for you. Stay safe, Panem and stay tuned." On screen Peeta said.

Beetee then noticeably relaxed once the footage stopped rolling, as he didn't have to battle to keep it airing anymore. The arena was still broadcasting and unfortunately, we could see that a few tributes had lost their battles to the mutts. About 18 of them still remained. I was relieved to see Clay and Juniper still fighting for their lives. For the 100th time that day, I wished we could have somehow got them out too. "Don't forget they chose this," Johanna reminded me, "they volunteered so that we could put an end to Snow and the Hunger Games," it was like she was reading my mind, I gave her a surprised look. "Oh, come on, your face was like an open book," she snorted

I noticed that Caesar or Claudius were neither seen nor heard from which was highly unusual. It was like the Capitol didn't know how to proceed following on from our onslaught.

"And we have contact!" Beetee cried, "I've just received a message from Rex,"

"Did everyone get out alive?" Haymitch asked, beating me to the punch.

"They're saddened to report that they suffered some casualties and fatalities. 16 dead, 1 in critical condition and 10 wounded survivors."

"Who are the survivors?" I asked, suddenly feeling panic surging through me

"Do they have the rescue footage Beetee?" Plutarch asked without a trace of compassion, he meant well, but sometimes he could come across so heartless.

"Who survived, Beetee?" I asked again, so many of them had died trying to escape. Was she one of them?

"Apparently the recording device got damaged during the rescue. We'll have to wait until we get to Thirteen and see if we can recover it and if not, we still have 10 survivors to film propo's," Beetee continued talking to Plutarch ignoring my pleading questions.

"Screw your damn propo's!" I cried, "Beetee, I need you to tell me right now... who made it out of that place alive? Is Katniss still alive?"

"I don't know," Beetee turned to me finally, "They didn't specify,"

"Peeta, you need to calm down," Finnick came and put an arm around me, "They don't know, and we can't do anything until we get to Thirteen."

I knew this. The rational part of me did anyway. But I also knew that I would be out of my mind until I knew if she had survived that place. She had to, she had to be alive. I sank to my knees and took in some deep breaths trying fruitlessly to calm myself down.

"Dammit," Plutarch muttered ignoring my mini breakdown, "I was hoping to get that footage rolling while we've still got the people's attention and it's still fresh,"

"We'll still have their attention, Plutarch," Cinna told him, He was giving me the occasional glance, I could see he was concerned for me as he said it, fearing for my mental state, "It doesn't matter if we air it now or in a few days or weeks, this will still rally the nation beside us,"

All we could do now was wait until we get to Thirteen and see who survived. I prayed Katniss was among them. My heart was pounding. I knew I wouldn't be able to relax until I saw her safe and sound. I couldn't lose her again. My heart couldn't take it.

"Oh dear... oh no... this isn't good," Wiress muttered then

"What isn't good? Please don't give me any more bad news," Plutarch groaned

"Despite the fact the air traffic radar is still wonky, they've sent a gunship out blind."

"Is it coming for us?" Plutarch asked

"Has it found Katniss, has it found their aircraft?" I asked simultaneously

"I've just hacked into its navigation and it's on a course for District Twelve," she then looked at me and Haymitch sadly, "they're under orders to level the District to the ground."