The original work belongs to Suzanne Collins and her publishers or any other co-owner. I'm merely borrowing her epic work to make my own spin; the idea of a time-travel simply refusing to leave me alone, so I had to write it.

I'm making no profits from this and the story isn't that good, if you haven't read Collins magnificent work I suggest you do. My messy fanfic is but a gnat in her shadow. If anyone is offended I'm very sorry.

Chapter 10

There's no air in my lungs and my hands are shaking. It feels like I am drowning and there is nothing that can save me. I hate it, can't make myself act. People around me starts moving, but I'm still stuck. Unable to breathe or speak; just silently waiting for the chosen to move. Is it Prim?

Suddenly someone is gripping my arm hard, brutal… suddenly I'm free. Time is moving normally again and I look at my savior; It is Madge. She has come up to me and her eyes is filled with tears. I almost shout with joy, think for a second that it's her that's chosen. But she has pity in her eyes and she's not looking at me, but at Prim.

Oh no. Please no, not again. It already happen once, please let it not be her. Let it be a mistake. This can't be happening again. Prim was one slip of paper in thousands! She had a chance to make it, me being back should have made some in-packed surely.

I should scream stop, that I volunteer, but I'm still stuck. Unsure if it's really her. Madge grip on my arm holding me in the presence, but I want to slip away I realise. I don't want to go through it again, not for anything. I distantly hear how the crowd murmurs unhappily, they hate it when it's the young.

I close my eyes hard. When I force them open again they lock with my sisters. Prims face is drained from blood, her hands clenched in fists and she is in shock. Then she's moving, away from me and towards the peacekeepers. They are making their way towards her, to lead her to the podium.

The lost look in her eyes is what brings me back; The silent cry for help gives me a voice again and I can finally move my body. I rip my arm from Madge grip and start moving. I have no calms about pushing the people before me out of my way.

"Prim!" I cry out, my throat thick with emotion making it hard to hear, even in the silence around us. I cry out again as I move forward. A path opens up to me and I'm meters away from her when I reach out. She is about to mount the steps, never once turning around. To terrified to hear me. Just as I grab her arm peacekeepers stops me. A wrong movement and they will kill me. I make sure to have a firm grip on Prim before I shout towards the podium;

"I volunteer!" I roar. "I volunteer as tribute!"

There. I said it once again. The Game is on, but this time I will find a way to ensure Prims safety. Even if I have to sleep with the fiend himself.

At my declaration the peacekeepers backed away, now it's in the hands of the mayor. There's some confusion on the stage at first. No one has ever volunteered in twelve before. The mayor is unsure what actions to take. I can feel Prim shaking underneath my grip.

I ignore Effie as she struts around like a chicken and keep my focus on the mayor. He is in a silent conversation with Haymitch and it's forever before he speaks.

"Let her come forward." The mayor states, looking at me with a pained expression. I'm the closest thing of a friend his daughter has, he knows me. At the mayor's words Prim starts screaming. "No, Katniss! No! You can't go!" She's clinging to me desperate. She doesn't want to be saved by sacrificing me. I see the Peacekeepers getting nervous, a child screams might lead to a riot. I need to get her out of here.

"Prim, let go," I say harshly. As I struggle to make her Gale finally arrives. He calmly pulls her off me and lifts her of the ground. Prim's thrashing in his arms, trying to get loose but he has her. I love him at that moment, knowing that he will keep her safe and bring her to our mother.

"Up you go, Catnip," he says in a hushed tone, his voice unsteady. I nod and watch him carry Prim away from me before braving the steps behind me. They will lead me to pain and horror, but I must climb them. I steel myself and take the first step. As I climb Effie starts gushing noises and I do my best to listen to her even though her voice grates my nerves.

"Well, bravo! That's the spirit of the Games!" She's exclaims, clearly pleased to finally have a district with a little action going on in it. "What's your name?" she ask me as I step up on the podium and turn towards the crowd.

"Katniss Everdeen," I say, my voice devoid of emotion. Stopping myself from showing any emotion.

Effie continue her merry quacking and at the right moments I nod appropriately. I just keep staring out over the crown and see the many faces of district twelve. I want to puke, they might think of me as dead but I've seen their smokin bodies before my eyes and it hurts having to look at them. They are my people and I realize how utterly hopeless our future are. I remember Gale's words, how only nine-hundred people made it out of ten-thousand. And it all comes down as me being the catalyst. I stand here before them and I have no clue how to save myself and them. I feel utterly worthless.

As Effie Trinket asks for a round of applause I once again find myself filled with wonderment for not a single soul claps. I can feel my back stiffen and my posture straightens. I'm tempted to smile at my district silent defiance. It is the boldest thing they ever done towards the Capitol and I will always love them for it.

What follows next is a clear shock for the committee, even Haymitch sits up and pays attention. It starts with a single miner raising his left hand towards his face and kissing his three middle fingers, then he holds it out to me. It's our way to send people we love and respect of at a funeral. Fitting for the occasion and soon the entire district has followed. I allow one tear to fall at this and kisses my own finger in a salute to them; I finally have a way to tell them all "Sorry" and "Goodbye"... A closure.

I'm almost dizzy from the liberation that washes over me.

At the peak Haymitch ruins it. He staggers across the stage and throws his arms around me. He drags me before the podium and shout out to the world as I struggle to be freed;

"Look at her. Look at this one! I like her!" I have forgotten how strong Haymitch is, and how bad he smells. "Lots of . . . spunk." He slurs as he kisses my cheek before pointing a long and dirty finger towards the camera. The edge is taken off when he falls of the stage, luckily without me and knocks himself unconscious. I try not to care and use the commotion to compose myself.

Effie is quick to move on before something else can happen and the next part of the reaping starts. It is time for the boys.

"What an exciting day!" she trills as handlers carries Haymitch's body to the train. Taking place behind the podium once again. I move silently to the left side, standing on the small X marked on the ground.

"But more excitement to come! It's time to choose our boy tribute!" Without pause she hurries to the boys ball and plums her hand down and fish up a piece of paper. I find Peeta in the crowd before me. He looks so pale and small where he stands surrounded by his age group. He has no clue what hell Effie is about to heap on him. Effie has already open the note as she returns to the podium and happily reads the name out loud to her public.

"Peeta Mellark."

…

As Effie Trinket says his name our past flash before my eyes; The pain, joy and love we shared. I don't want this for him, not even if it will let me be with him again. He deserves better. For a second I foolishly hope that someone will volunteer, but no one does.

From this moment on we'll be united to the end. I stare at him as he makes his way toward the stage, almost getting lost amongst the other boys. His medium height and stocky build making him look short amongst the other dark-haired teens, slim and tall.

His like a dandelion growing amongst dirt and pavement. His ash-blond hair combed back, showing his sharp cheekbones and clenched jaw. He is stressed, struggling to maintain his cool. Peeta told me once that he had been terrified by the prospect of fighting me, that the mere thought made him cold inside. He had loved me to much to want to hurt me, even at the tender age of fifteen.

He climbs the stair and I can feel my chest contracting as I look at him, you can see his anguish but his family remains silent. He stands before us alone and domed. Even though I hate it this is standard. Family devotion only goes so far for most people on reaping day. What I did was the radical thing, a thing that will be remembered as people walk home today and sit before their meager dinner.

Peeta on the other hand… Peeta would alone be forgotten, falling between the cracks already as silence reign. I realize why he struggled so hard to make Haymitch take an interest in us, apart we have no chance of sponsors. Together.. we would be unstoppable. His intelligence of the game-structure amazes me. As Peeta is introduce I try my hardest not to break under the realization. All of this is so much harder than I ever imagine. I thought since I already done it once that I would be able to handle it, but I feel completely lost. I can't even turn to Peeta for comfort since at this moment in time we are not even friends.

Our longest interaction to his knowledge is when he threw me the bread that saved me; the moment that gave me hope, courage and strength to live a little longer. A debt that I still have failed to repay.

I owe him so much. Even though my Peeta would disagree with me there, but then he always was to kind and forgiving. I can't think about that at a time like this, when so much is happening and every step I take will be watched and everything I say will be judged. My only comfort is that any weird behavior on my part is likely to be associated with stress. After all I am hardly the first one to break under pressure.

The reaping has reached it's end. It is time for I and Peeta to make the customary hand shake for good luck and retreat behind closed doors. I have to force my hand not to shake as I turn to him and reach out. His hand is warm and strangely gives me enough comfort to turn around and wave goodbye before leaving the stage. The anthem of Panem plays as the doors closes behind us, we are now in the justice-building and in the Capitols grip.

As the final tune of the anthem seeps through the thick doors I see Peeta talk to the mayor, he has the man smiling and I almost snort. Peeta is young and still he's a natural politician. He could disarm a nuke if you gave him enough time. I should now, he managed to slip by my defences easily and I didn't give in peacefully.

Chapter 11

The moment the camera goes dark we're taken into custody. A group of Peacekeepers marches us into separate rooms. There we will be allowed to say goodbye to our families in peace. It will be an agonizing hour that I much rather avoid. I don't know if I can say goodbye to Prim without breaking down in tears, but I have to for I can't appear weak to the public. My cold facade is all I have going for me as I don't have Peeta's way with people.

Haymitch ones told me that tears would have giving me more sympathies; that being perceived weak and emotional ment sponsors. In that I have to disagree with him. My cold appearance was what gave me the power to pull through and gain attention the first time. It had the benefit of blending well with Peeta's warm and friendly exterior.

The moment the door opens Prim hurries over to me and hugs me tightly, making me focus only on her. We stand before a barred window, in cold daylight, trying to comfort each other. We don't have a lot of time and I have little time to be practical. I could die in the arena; there is nothing saying that everything will go the same this time around. Already several small events has gone different and who know how that changes things.

I force Prim to let go and sit down on the brown sofa in the middle of the room. She sits next to me on my right and mother on my left. I tell her everything I can think of and then some; how to pick berries, roots, nuts and seeds all around the town. I also tell Prim about the sap and how to collect it. I make her promise me to keep silent, even if a child is starving. She gives me her word but I know she will break it.

I force Prim to promise me to accompany Gale in the forest, even if it scares her for she must be able to gather food. Gale will soon start working in the mines and he won't be able to support both families in the long run. I will be damned before I allow her to take a tesserae. Without me there they have a chance of making it with the little we have, at least for this year. Prims has read father's book as much as I, she only hasn't been able to stand the woods.

When I am done with instructing Prim, I turn to my mother. I grip her arms hard and I look her in the eyes. My part in keeping Prim alive starts here and I need her to do her part. She is alarmed by the look I give her. I am not an innocent child right now, I am the girl on fire and she will adhere to me.

"Listen to me." I demand with a dark voice. "You can't leave again," I say with a dark intensity, a world of anger simmering behind my words. She break eye contact at this, ashamed, but I don't have time to be kind. I ignore her stutters and reassurance and grip her harder. She moans in pain.

"You can't leave Prim on her own. If it gets to hard… if I die… Whatever you see on the screen you have to promise me you'll fight through it!" My voice has risen into an angry hish. I am scared, she managed the first time but I can't rely on it. Everything can change as the kanoon rings. I almost died in the first few minutes once and I need her to be present for Prim if I succumb this time around.

Mom breaks my hold on her and says she will make it, that she has medicine now, but I can't rely on that; not with Prim on the line. Prim break us up before the argument get more heated. She holds my hand in hers and presses them to her chest; I can feel how hard her heart's beating.

"I'll be alright, Katniss," says Prim. "I only need you to fight. Try to win and come home to us again. We will make it, but you must promise me that you will fight."

The chance of me triumphing once again are slim, there so many mistakes I can do. I might know the other tributes and what they can do, but that is no guarantee for victory. My safest bet is to do what I once did; move out of the playing field and wait for the numbers to go down. It is my safest bet even if it is a horrid one.

We continue talking and try to move beyond the darkest of the moment. I hold Prim close to me and grasp one of my moms hands. We are a family even if we're a broken one and this might be our last few moment tighter.

I hope not, but I have to be honest to myself about my chances.

The peacekeeper soon come to take them away and before Prim goes she begs me to really try to survive; that she wants her sister to come home. I promise to try my hardest, but as Prim leaves I think about small little Rue; only twelve years old and stuck in the Game together with twenty-three others who wants her dead.

Prim is right, it is not fair. What should I do?

The rest of the visit goes the same as before; first the baker enters. A silent and stoic old man, but once again he promise to look out for Prim and I give him a smile in thanks. Then Madge; grimly she tells me the same words as the first time and gives me a golden pin. I'm surprised by my apprehension for the small mockingjay, but I take it from her and reluctantly give her a weak promise to wear it later. When Madge leaves I look at the pin, wondering how something so small can become such a powerful symbol.

I still get a sick pleasure from the fact that the mockingjays are the results from the Capitols mistake. They had been so proud of their Jabberjay; the mutbird that could record people's conversations and used for espionage. When discovered they became useless to the Capitol and thus discarded, leading them to roam the wild and mate with the commun mockingbirds. Creating a new species that they couldn't control – the Mockingjay.

I would wear it gladly if it didn't represent so much personal grief, just to defy Snow.

After Madge its Gale's turn, the moment he enters he sweeps me up in a hug. I find myself unwilling to let go of him. Our goodbye to one another is harder than I would have thought. The only thing I want is to hide in his arms and be safe, my anger and bitterness gone. Hard to leave a friend behind in a world that is so grim.

He will be alone now and Gale deserves more than this. For the first time I truly understand how much he brought the war effort, to me. How much he sacrificed for the cause. Without him we would have stumbled in the darkness. His betrayal still hurts, but I can finally see beyond that and let Gale in again. I have missed him.

Before Gale must leave he implores me to use my skills to survive.

"Listen," he whisper into my ear. "Getting a knife should be pretty easy, but you've got to get your hands on a bow. That's your best chance."

I don't argue, only saying that I will try before he leaves. No one comes after Gale and I wait the remaining time alone, try to bring forth a courage I don't possess. I think about Peeta and how alone he must be in the other room. I hope his family could stay longer than mine, for even if his mother is a bitch he deserve a proper send off.

…

The peacekeepers collects us after some time and lead us from the Justice building. We travel the short distance to the train-station inside silver cars surrounded by guards. I sit next to Peeta and see traces of tears on his urge to comfort him is overwhelming, but I stop myself. Knowing that he wants people to see that his human side, trying to make people see us as more than toys. I think it worked since we both got out of the Game alive the first time around.

The station is swarming with reporters and cameras. I only have to pose for a few minutes whilst Peeta is out there longer. His red face becoming the focus point quickly and I can quite easily slip onboard the train. As soon as Peeta joins me the doors closes and the train starts moving. We are finally out of the camera's range and I can breath again.

Effie is their to show us our quarters. She happily leads the way and I take hold of Peeta's hand since he seems uncomfortable by the trains speed. As we walk Effie points out the different wagons, room-functions and layouts. The train is fancier than anything we have at twelve, even the rooms in the Justice Building.

After spending a year in the Seam I have grown unaccustomed with all the extravagance and feel overwhelmed. Finally Effie leads us to our rooms. I have forgotten the splendor the Capitol liked to show the tributes; each chamber has a main living-room with a bedroom-section that is decorated in green a white and a private bathroom with running water.

Effie insist that we both take a shower and find some decent clothes, complaining about our smell and dirty faces. I already miss my old hunter jacket. Effie leads Peeta away, leaving me alone to get ready. I peel off my mother's blue dress and jump into the shower. The hot water feel invigorating and I relax under the spray. Afterwards I find a simple green sweater and a pair of khaki pants, choosing to forgo socks. The fabric feels amazing on my skin, like cold rain at every touch.

Before I leave the room I take up the golden Pin from Madge, at the sight of it I get homesick. Its cold touch and golden glow reminding me of the Seam and Prim. It helps me decide and soon it once again decorates my chest. A piece of home close to my heart, both of them I realize as I walk down the corridor. Thinking about Pollux smile as I sang for the mockingbirds, combing my childrens golden hair and the many times my father sought them out for som peaceful music.

My father had been particularly fond of mockingjays since they had the ability to mimic tones and noises. When he'd sang in the forest they sang back and together they had created amazing music. I can still hear his voice as I close my mockingjay is like a piece of him, as it will be a piece of me.

I walk the narrow corridor towards the dining room with its polished paneled walls. Effie most likely there together with Peeta. As I enter I am hit by the smell of food. There's a table at the center, made out of green-tinted glass and overflowed with food. Peeta sitting close to the window, watching the seanery passe by. The chair next to him is empty so I take it.

"Oh Katniss! I was just coming to get you." Effie says brightly and comes over. "Now the only one missing is Haymitch." looking irritated towards the door opposite the one I entered.

I and Peeta sleep in compartments placed back in the trains while Haymitch and Effie has theirs in front. It's a clear declaration of the tributes place in the hierarchy.

"Last time I saw him, he said he was taking a nap," Peeta tells her. He looks tired as well and I think we better go to bed after we have eaten some. As we eat Effie informs us of the schedule to come, what we should do when arriving at the Capitol and what we shouldn't. The chefs made different type of courses and we can pick and choose what we like as we digest everything.

We chose the thick carrot soup with a green salad at the side. I can see that Peeta is starved, he can barely hold back, but manages it. I eat as much soup as I can get down, it will be kinder to my empty stomach then the other dishes. Peeta on the other hand slows down when the lamb chops and mashed potatoes are placed on the table. To spare his stomach from the heavy food I stop him as he pushes the soup away.

"No." He looks up at me. "I know that you are hungry, so am I, but if you eat all the heavy food you will be sick later. Our stomachs' not used to this and we can't risk being seen as weak."

He knows I'm right, but it is hard for him to stop himself. I can understand it. I too want to eat all the food. The table is overstuffed with delicious dishes and I want to try them all, but we manage to contain ourselves and eat in a companionable silence. Taking every bite of the soup and salad with care, gaining a complement from Effie for our manners.

"The pair last year ate everything with their hands like a couple of savages. It completely upset my digestion." Effie complains as she nibbles on a small salad.

I love Effie, but I hate her attitude and high maintenance. Her words angers me and Peeta has to grab my leg with his right hand to stop me from objecting. The poor tributes from last year had probably lived through a period of starvation, all the food must have been a wonder to them.

To annoy her I pretend to sneeze after taking another mouthful of soup, spewing it over the table and hitting her hand. Instead of giving me a napkin Peeta take the tablecloth and helps me wipe the soup from my face. I watch in satisfaction as Effie moves to the small bar to wash her hand, clearly disgusted by us. And all I had to pay for my insolence was a burning feeling in my nose that would disappear shortly.

As we are done she reluctantly leads us to the cinema room, clearly not pleased with our manners anymore. Soon we are watching the twelve reapings on the screen while Effie sit as far away from us as possible. The clips holds no surprise for me, it follows as it once had and I recognize all of my competition.

First Marvel and Glimmer appear on the screen, I hardly pay them any attention, dreading more the two that will come after. Clover comes first, mean and cruel she shouts her joy to the crowed; filling me with dread. Seeing Cato join her leaves me empty, he had come close several time to kill me and I almost shut down when he smirks for the camera. He is as big and brutal as I remember and I find myself trembling as I study him.

I don't react to the other tributes that follows, that is until she enters. When Rue is shown on the screen I almost cry, drilling my finger into Peeta's arm to stop myself. He grimaces, but makes no stands on the stage, mere twelve years old and no one volunteers. You can hear the wind whistling through the decrepit buildings around her.

Last on the screen is us, Peeta and I. They show the whole thing. From Prim's name being called, to us entering the train. I look meek standing in the crowd pale and silent as my sister walks to her doom, but like a match has been struck I change into a living spitfire; rescuing my sister. I look dangerous and that's not good, president Snow will not like my fire, not one bit. I have to tone that down in the time to come.

Afterwards Peeta and I sit in our chairs and look blankly at the white screen. It feels surreal for both of us, how with music and background-talk they managed to make everything into a show. Effie complains how bad Haymitch makes her look as I sit there mute, but I can see Peeta trying to hold in a desperate laughter. His thinking what I'm thinking; we are utterly screwed.

Haymitch, the drunkard, were our lifeline and mentor. Without him we had no chance of making it one day in the arena. Effie was just the front and the pretty face, Haymitch was the true snake in the grass that would be our chance. And he has completely given up on the tributes up until now. It was clear as day to me as I had watched the scene. There had been nothing in his eyes, no fire or glimmer of hope. This must have been what Peeta saw the first time around, and what made him desperate for Haymitch attention. I need to help him, for both our sake.

...

We return to the restaurant and sit down by the table once again, Peeta and I are nibbling at some salty crackers as we let the time pass. A bit later Haymitch stagger in and makes a ruckus. As Effie goes to scold him he pukes on her shoes. I almost smile in approval but stops when he direct his empty gaze towards us and promptly tell us to kiss our hide's goodbye for we are going to die.

I remember why we have such a hard time getting along now, even though we look at each other as family. Haymitch is a dick.

Peeta runs after Haymitch as he turns to leave, I let him waste his time on it. I have had enough for one evening and I can see the fruitlessness in the endeavor. Ignoring Effie, which I had done all day long, I make my way to my room and get ready for bed.

The mattress is soft and cool, the fabric of the bed-spread hugging me softly as I get comfortable. Within moments I asleep, choosing to ignore the hardship of the day passed. The smell of the baker's cookies are the last thing I register as darkness swallows me.

dream-sequence

I am walking in the forest. Everything is bright around me. I find my way over to the pond. The one where my father taught me how to swim and fish for bass.

I am happy, it is as if my father was here with me. No worries in the world.

I dive into the pond. Let it cold water surround me. It is good.

As I surface I notice the petals on the water and I look around.

All around me are tall plants with leaves like arrowheads. They remind me of something.

I'm starting to get a bad feeling. The forest has gone to quiet and the dark.

I swim towards the shore but it moves away from me.

I feel weak and hungry. I feel tired and sick. I feel like I am dying.

I then hear my father's voice.

"Katniss." His voice echoes. "As long as you find yourself you will never starve."

One white petal touches me. I recognize it. It is a petal from a Katniss plant.

I quickly swim over to the plants that is around me, they do not move.

The hunger inside me is growing but I move forward unflinching.

I have a purpose.

I dive under and dig into the mud. I soon have a handful of roots in my hand and I pull.

I will have food for tonight. The bluish tubers will be as good as potatoes in a stew.

My mouth is salivating.

I laugh.

But as I turn around with my price a dark shadow looms over me.

I look up.

It's Cato, ready to take my life.

I scream.

dream-sequence over

I wake up screaming in a dark room. I don't recognize it and I panic. I throw myself of the bed and tear through the room, bumping into things and walls. Trying to find a safe place. Suddenly the door opens and a soft bluish light fills up the room. Someone is standing before it but it's too big to be Prim. I'm ready to attack the intruder, but stop when I hear his voice.

"Katniss are you alright?"

It is Peeta and before I can think I have crossed the room, thrown myself into his arms and are crying buckets and shouting that I'm lost. He lifts me up in his arms and holds me close. He brings me back to the bed and get us on it. Soon he and the bed surround me and I feel safe. He keeps mumbling soft nothings and after some time I have calmed down enough to realize where I am and what is going on. I am beet red from embarrassment and want nothing more than hide. But I have never been a coward and Peeta has just helped me calm down from a panic attack.

"Thank you." I say.

"A nightmare?" he asks and I only nod into his chest. He doesn't let go and neither do I. It feels good to be in Peeta's arms again. We sit like this for maybe an hour before he starts moving, just a little but I notice. I get up a bit and look into his face. He has tired circles under his eyes and I can see that his position is uncomfortable.

"Will you stay." I ask him. He nods in reply. It is almost cute how nervous that question made him. I scoot away a bit and he make himself more comfortable. We soon lay next to each other, as close as we can get without touching. But I can't sleep and neither can he it seems. I am struck by an idea and I soon the room is filled by my soft humming and almost singing. It's a tone my father once used and I always remember falling asleep to it. Peeta is at first surprise, but as I continue he slowly relaxes and eventually fall asleep.

He looks so peaceful next to me and I scoot the rest of the way and lay my head on his chest. I soon fall asleep to the sound of his beating heart.