Trigger WARNING: Canon-Typical Violence, Violence, Threats of Violence, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Illnesses, Brutality, Bullying, Imprisonment, Work Camps, Intimidation, Rape

Peeta has found out about Katniss and all of their plans were thwarted by Eudora, Katniss's mother. Eudora betrayed her eldest daughter and now Katniss was facing the full brutality of the law. Katniss is alone and we discover just how vicious the system is...

Katniss sat with her back to the train. When she'd been removed from Haymitch's presence she'd been tossed into the back of the transport. She could hear the train whistle in the distance as they neared the train station. She could hear men talking outside of the transport, then the sound of a machine motor. She felt the transport being picked up by a crane. She was rattled inside of the transport as it was placed on what she assumed was a train.

Before long, she not only heard but felt the blast of the train horn and the distinct noise of the train as it pulled away from the station. The air was cold inside of the transport and Katniss buried her hands deeper into her jacket, glad she hadn't worn her father's jacket. Who knew what would happen to her.

Exhaustion won over, but all too soon she woke up because once more the transport was being moved from atop of the train to the ground. The doors of the transport were opened and two new heavily armed men wearing dark uniforms pulled her out of the transport. Her ankles were cuffed, and she was given a chain with number 5236.

It was dark outside and the air was warm. The guards hit her in the back with the butt of their weapons.

"MOVE ALONG CRIMINAL!" The guard shouted at her.

Katniss moved as quickly as possible to join the group outside. There were hundreds of men and women of different ages and sizes. Some were crying, while others were stoically standing, waiting for the next stop. This had to be some sort of processing center. Slowly, they were split into different groups. All of the people with numbers similar to hers were moved to a freight wagon and carted inside like animals.

One man who was frail-looking couldn't get in and the guard hit him so hard that he tripped and went down, his head hit the side of the train and instantly died. Katniss averted her eyes, bile rose in her throat. A young man vomited at the sight of the lifeless body; he too was struck by one of the guards who called him a swine. Katniss drew in the fresh air to keep from retching and facing the same fate as that young man.

The guards only answered to Crane; they were employed by him, not the government. They were handpicked for this job and were not bound by the rules or a code like the Peacekeepers. These men were above the law, as they were given carte blanche over the criminals in their custody. That sort of power corrupted absolutely.

The prisoners were loaded up into the trains. Katniss took a corner; she didn't trust anyone. There were maybe 60 people inside the train wagon. She knew there were at least four different carts with people.

Katniss closed her eyes; tears pricked her lashes as she thought of Peeta. He would be waiting for her. Would he be disappointed? If she survived this, would he want her after? Katniss turned her wrist so she could see the tattoo there. She was branded for life, and she questioned if this was what her mother intended for her? How much hate did a parent have to hand their child to the authorities, to allow them to suffer thusly?

Katniss wasn't sure what to make of the situation. Did Primrose know? Was her little sister in on this with her mother? Katniss hung her head low. The train lurched forward and they began to move.

After a few hours of silence, Katniss listened to her fellow prisoners.

"Shh, Twill." A female voice said in the darkness. Her voice was high-pitched and tried to appear to be calm.

"I'm so scared Bonnie, what if we don't survive?" The other's voice was also high pitched, but breathy.

"As long as we stick together, we can survive, sister," Bonnie said.

"Yes," Twill answered back, taking comfort in her sisters' words.

They traveled the remainder of the evening. Eventually, the train slowed down. Katniss could only guess at the time. The train wagons were quiet, and they hadn't been given any water or food. The air was pungent with the smells of bodily secretions. Someone had thrown up, others had taken a piss on themselves. In short, they were smelly, hungry, and thirsty. Katniss was sure animals were treated better.

She'd seen the way they treated the goats that were housed in another train car. There were fresh threshes on the floor and they had troughs of food and water on board. There was even a window or two for light. The compartments with prisoners were completely enclosed.

The screeching noise of the brakes let Katniss know that the train had come to a complete stop. There was no noise, just the sound of the wind whipping back and forth. Where were they? Katniss knew this wasn't home.

In the semi-darkness, Katniss could make out the sisters, Bonnie and Twill. They were holding on to each other. Twill cried all throughout the night.

"Where are you from?" Katniss asked.

Their eyes were surprised at the sound of her voice.

"We're from district 8."

"Where are you from?" Bonnie asked.

"Twelve," Katniss answered.

"We don't really get many from district twelve on these trains," A man to her left said.

"What the hell did you do?" Another man asked.

Katniss shrugged, "Poaching."

They looked surprised and laughed. "You're a poacher."

"I feed my family that way," Katniss said defensively.

Everyone in the transport was looking at her.

"She shouldn't be here," another man said in the back of the wagon.

A mummer went through the group and many agreed.

"We killed a Peacekeeper," Bonnie said.

Katniss frowned at the women. She wondered why they had resorted to killing a Peacekeeper, but she kept her silence.

Suddenly the sides of the wagon were being banged on from the outside of the door. Men yelling could be heard right before the doors were slid open. Bright light and heat spilled inside. Many flinched at the sudden change.

"GET OUT!"

Slowly, the prisoners leaped out of the wagons. They stood on wobbly legs as hunger and thirst had wasted away their energy. Katniss looked around. It was hot, an uncomfortable heat that was bone dry. The slight breeze was hot and reminded Katniss of the heat of the ovens at the bakery. Sweat beaded on her forehead. A drop slid down her neck into the collar of her coat. The heat was so intense that she could see the waves as it lifted from the ground. Her warmer clothing felt itchy and heavy.

The sunlight was unrelenting. If it wasn't for the shackles on her wrists, she would have lifted her hand to block the light. She closed her eyes; after such a long period of darkness, she saw a haze of orange behind her lids.

"ALL CLEAR!"

The train began to move; a gush of hot air hit her face. Another bead of sweat slid down her neck. Katniss could only equate heat to the blast of hot hair that left the ovens when Peeta opened them up to add or remove some delicious creation he made. In the summer, the bakery got so hot that she'd fainted one time. When Katniss came to, it was to discover an anxious Peeta. He tried not to act as if she was a fragile piece of glass, but he couldn't help himself.

If he knew the trouble she'd gotten herself into, would he try to save her? Peeta hated the heat; he loved the cold. Everywhere she looked all she could see was a mixture of sand, rocks, and very little vegetation. The tall mountain in the distance was surrounded by a few buildings scattered about. District Two, she guessed. District two was hot and her poor baker would suffer if he were here.

Like cattle they were formed into two lines; men on one side, women on the other. They were then ordered to get into the back of open trucks. The women weren't treated any better than the men; they weren't helped into the trucks. They were thrown in like sacks if they needed help. Bonnie, the taller of the two sisters held her hand out to Katniss.

"Thank you," Katniss said.

"You're welcome."

"You're not like the rest of us," Twill said.

"You didn't do anything wrong other than try to feed your family."

Katniss didn't say anything, but she sat near the sisters. The other women gave her a look, one of pity.

"Someone had it out for you to land here," Bonnie said.

"Where is here?" Wondering if her suspicions were correct.

"District Two," another woman said. "I'm Cecilia. I poisoned my husband. And I'd do it again if I had to."

"This is where they bring the worst of society. The ones who've murdered and, well, done all sorts of despicable things," the woman who looked like a fox said.

Katniss looked out at the barren landscape. In the distance, she could see greenery, but it looked like little dots of green. The mountain loomed as they neared it.

All eyes were trained on the mountain. It was a giant rock really far up ahead, so different from home because District Twelve had trees, evergreens, and lush grass growing down its gentle slopes.

Katniss once more spotted a green tree in the distance. The convoy drove not toward one of the buildings but to a sloped road that led to the mountain. They shook as the terrain got rougher.

"We're going to go inside of the belly of the beast," the woman with fox-like features said.

Katniss looked up the road to the mountain, before closing her eyes. Mining was the one thing she avoided. Her father died in the mines. Buried inside after an explosion. According to the men that did survive, the canary stopped singing and those who escaped only had seconds to make it out before the explosion happened.

Her father's death gave her nightmares. Now her mother had condemned Katniss to one year of living inside the one place she loathed the most, a mine.

The convoy shifted gears as they drove up the side of the mountain until they came to a spot that plateaued halfway up. The convoy headed toward a fortified outcropping of buildings. The walls surrounding the buildings were thick. Men dressed in camo with large weapons stood on the rampart and stared down at them, like sentinels ready to pick them off if they did anything wrong. They came to a stop in front of a building.

"GET OUT!"

The women stood.

"QUICKLY!"

As fast as they could, they got down from the convoy transports.

"LINE UP!" A guard ordered, to get them processed to enter the belly of the beast.

The guards on the ground walked by holding their weapons, their eyes flickering over the women's faces, then their bodies. Just like Rooba's patrons selecting the choicest of cuts of meat, the guards were gazing at the women. Katniss could see their lustful gaze even through their sunglasses.

They were brought into a formation where Crane's security guards pricked their fingers, getting their information from their DNA; it reminded her of the reaping.

Katniss remembered what it was like to queue up, to wait silently in line for the moment when they would identify her to her DNA to make sure she wasn't pregnant or had any diseases that would make it impossible for her to be in the games. The women were sifted once more into two groups. And she saw what they were doing, sifting out the strongest from the weak.

Bonnie and Twill were ahead of her, both sisters were shoved to the side. When it was her turn, she was put in with them. Bonnie nodded when she joined them; as if there was safety in numbers. Above, strange birds with no feathers flew. Their cry, a raspy, drawn-out hissing, reminded Katniss of wild dogs snapping over a kill in the distance. They swooped around in a circle as if waiting for one of them to drop dead so that they could feast on the corpse.

No doubt the birds were used to at least one person dying at the hands of the sentinels on the walls, whose sunglasses twinkled in the oppressive heat of the day, their weapons tightly drawn in their hands.

A pale, frail woman, who had been shifted to a third group, was shoved, her feet stumbled, and she fell to the hard ground. A guard picked her up like she was a rag doll and pushed her to the side. The birds above swooped down. Had she not gotten to her knees and brought to her feet, they would have pecked her to death.

Katniss had never seen anyone treated that way, but, she reasoned, every person assembled was judged to be a criminal. Which meant they didn't deserve the humanity written into the peaceful laws of Panem. Hardened criminals deserve to be treated worse than animals as they had no intrinsic value.

They were roughly lined in rows of five, five rows deep in numerical order. Katniss was standing next to Bonnie and twill.

"You are now a number," the guard addressed the women. His voice boomed even though he wasn't yelling it sounded like a sharp reprimand. "You will be addressed as the number on your tag unless otherwise noted."

The women stood straighter.

"5045, 5072, 5101, 5115…." The man rasped calling them. The women lined up in a single column. "….5236."

Katniss walked to the line; they were flanked by men. She kept her eyes on the ground. One of the women made the mistake of looking at one of the guards in the eyes. She was backhanded, blood fell from her swollen lips.

One of the guards took an interest in Bonnie who stood two spots ahead of Katniss. He touched her face, "I'm going to have fun with you."

Katniss's heart pounded in her chest as he approached. He stood before her, his beady eyes flickered over her body. "You're too bony for my taste," he mumbled as he walked by.

For once, Katniss was relieved that she wasn't pretty, and had nothing to take notice of. She didn't have boobs, nor did she have much of an ass that the Merchant girls were known for. Her sister had inherited their Merchant mothers' curves. Katniss had a boyish figure, due to having spent most of her life half-starved, always hungry for food.

"MOVE."

The command caused them to walk forward single file into a narrow walkway.

"STRIP."

Frightened of what the guards could do to them they did so, and their dignity was taken as each piece of clothing was removed. Once nude, they stepped onto a conveyor belt and as they moved, they were sprayed on all sides by huge jets. Salty, bitter water cascaded over their bodies from all directions. It was some sort of chemical to make sure that any critters they might have in their hair or body were removed or died. At the end of the conveyor, a blast of air surrounded them to dry them off.

Katniss covered herself with her hands, not liking the feeling of being nude. She was grateful when she spotted uniforms of a slate gray jumpsuit, with sturdy boots and thick socks. No underwear. They reminded Katniss of the grey uniforms the miners wore in District Twelve. Katniss quickly donned hers, not comfortable with being nude in front of so many women, or men for that matter; this was going to be her life for the next year.

They exited the long corridor, back into the scorching heat. There was a thin film of sand beneath her booted feet. The arid heat and the way the sun beat down on her skin made her wonder if this would be the last time she'd see the sun. As oppressive as the heat was on the surface, the heat beneath the earth was going to be unbearable. Katniss wanted to make sure to soak up as much sunlight as she could because in the distance she saw the doors that no doubt contained an elevator that would descend deep within the earth's crust.

But the guards weren't done with them yet. They were sat down in a chair, one by one, to have their hair chopped off. It was the last indignity. When Katniss's turn came, the man roughly shoved her onto the chair. She was sprayed with a delousing spray. It itched and burned her skin. He knotted his hand in her braid and yanked back. Katniss bit back her cry of pain. He took a sharp knife and cut her braid off at the nape of her neck.

Not having hair, not having her braid, was like having her identification stripped. The clothing didn't matter, but losing her braid made Katniss feel violated in a deep way. She felt the sun burning the back of her neck as she got up standing with one arm crossed over her chest, her hand gripping her other arm. It was the way they stood while waiting for the name to be chosen from the reaping bowl. A sign of submission in District Twelve.

It was worse for the women with curly hair; they were held down and shaved bald. Katniss was grateful that at least her hair wasn't curly. The tears that fell down their cheeks were because they had been dehumanized. Women took some pride in their appearance, and hair aided in that appearance. Though Katniss didn't care for her own appearance, the dehumanizing way they treated the other women caused her to feel their pain. The women cried. It was a silent communication that even though they were criminals, and their lives were not their own, they were still human.

"Follow me," the guard, who'd told Bonnie he favored her, shouted.

They were divided once more into two groups, some women to the right, and other women to the left. Bonnie and Twill were not separated, for that Katniss was grateful. She didn't think either woman could survive without the other. Katniss was placed with them and they were ushered into a vehicle. Soon the group of ten women bounced along the sandy road as they went further up the mountain.

This mountain wasn't like the mountains of District Twelve. From the view, it looked as if the landscape was plowed, ripped up, and reformed into mounds of dirt. Katniss could see the levels demonstrating the years of destructive mining. In Twelve, the mountains were natural. They were filled with lush greenery, soaring evergreens, trees that changed colors as the seasons shifted from cold to cool, to warm, to heat, and cycled back to cold again.

This mountain was going to be her last memory of the outside world. Katniss had the sudden realization, that she didn't know if she would even make it back to Twelve. She was a survivor and she was capable, but she didn't know if she was strong. Katniss didn't know if she was strong enough to survive working inside the mines. Her mother knew her deep-seated fear of mining. The reason she began drying her game meat and making jerky out of it and selling it at the Hob was to avoid working in the mines.

Eudora sent Katniss to the one place where she'd know her daughter would suffer the most. Katniss's eyes closed and she remembered how her father died. The explosion was so fierce it caused the earth to tremble and a sinkhole to appear. Katniss had nightmares of being trapped inside the mines with her father. Seeing him blown up or seeing him trapped inside a pocket of air, visualizing his last agonizing breaths of air amid the darkness.

Katniss looked down, her eyes filling with tears. The family she'd fought for had betrayed her and it tore at her soul. Strong, no, she wasn't strong anymore. The only person who could possibly want her was Peeta. But would he wait for her? Katniss pushed back the cuff of her uniform to peer down at her wrist, *451.

When they reached a small plateau, they jumped down off the transport.

"Welcome to area 51. My name is Commander Slate. You lucky ladies get to be the Canaries."

Katniss understood what that meant. The canaries in District Twelve were just birds who sang until gases killed them. When they stopped singing, the miners had to leave that spot immediately.

"You're from District Twelve aren't you?" Commander Slate said.

Katniss nodded silently.

"Then you know that a canary doesn't have the best job. You're going to be blowing up new shafts for the miners to dig." Commander Slate roughly gave her a pickaxe and told her to stand at the door of the elevator. "This should be familiar to you, Twelve. I hope you can sing like a canary."

The ominous door slid open to reveal a rickety elevator. On wobbly feet, Katniss walked inside. The other women filed inside behind her. Katniss turned around to see the door shut, taking in the last sliver of sunlight as they descended into the bowels of the earth. The air was stifling, and she closed her eyes to this new reality. A reality where the sun no longer existed and the earth's lovely colors of green and yellow and reds were replaced by shades of grays, browns, and total black.

The training they received was nominal, more hands-on before they were transported into a deep part. There was a hose that ran on top of the carved ceiling and a machine that pumped air at their depth. There was another machine that removed the condensation. The women were set to work until they dropped one by one out of exhaustion. Katniss, however, outlasted them all as she didn't want to sleep. The air was damp and sticky, her uniform clung to her body as she sweated and labored.

"TWELVE!" Commander Slate shouts.

Katniss flinched as she held her pickaxe above her head.

"Go to bed!"

Katniss put her pickaxe down.

"You're a beast for a little thing," Commander Slate said, throwing her a bedroll. "Bed down for the night."

Katniss didn't know what to do, but seeing the other women throwing their bedrolls on the ground she headed to where Bonnie and Twill were. Twill was in a bad state; she wept throughout the day. They still hadn't gotten a meal or even water. If Twill didn't get water soon, she was going to become dehydrated.

Because her mother was a healer, Katniss understood the human body needed water to survive. After three days without liquid, the body could overheat. Dizziness and confusion were not something you wanted around dynamite.

"Twill, you have to calm down," Bonnie whispers.

"It's not fair, we were defending ourselves," Twill hiccupped as quietly as she could.

"We killed two Peacekeepers, not one but two, and there wasn't a way their friends weren't going to suggest we get sent here. We knew that going in, what could happen."

"It's still not fair," Twill hiccupped. Katniss could hear the onslaught of fresh tears.

Katniss looked at Twill and she quietly said, "At least it wasn't your mother who handed you in because you didn't follow her wishes."

Twill stopped hiccupping. "What?"

"My mother was the one who turned me into Seneca Crane, for poaching two squirrels," Katniss said.

"That's kind of messed up," Bonnie said.

"You guys have each other," Katniss said, settling down on the roll; her cheek pillowed on her hands.

Twill sniffled but stopped crying.

Katniss managed to doze off.

"GET UP!" Commander Slate ordered. His cronies went around, kicking the women.

Katniss was up in a flash, quickly rolling up the bedroll that she discovered was not comfortable at all. She hardly slept because sometime in the night Commander Slate dragged Bonnie away to some corner of the tunnel.

She was escorted back with a black eye, and welts on her body, so much so she crumpled on the floor and winced in pain. In the dim lighting, Katniss could see her eyes were red-rimmed, her lips were purple from the bruising.

Katniss didn't know what to say and she knew eventually when Slate got tired of Bonnie he would turn his attention to another female. They weren't fed that day. It wasn't until the next day that they got their first morsel of food. Hard bread and a cup of water inside of a bottle.

The bread was thrown on the floor and the women scampered for a ration.

"Eat up rats," Commander Slate laughed at the sight of the women grasping the bread as if it were life.

His cronies made some of the women jump for the water. They laughed, watching the weakened women fight for the life-sustaining liquid.

Katniss sat down, waiting patiently, even though she craved the water. Her skin was parched and her tongue was dry. The relentless heat of the tunnels, the heat that rose from the machinery and equipment, and the hard labor caused her to crave the water.

"TWELVE," Commander Slate called.

Katniss slowly got up. She kept her eyes trained on the floor. "Yes sir?"

"They train you well in your home district."

"If you say so," Katniss answered.

"Says you were caught poaching squirrels?"

"Yes, sir."

"Your mother handed you in?" Commander Slate laughed.

"Yes, sir."

"You know poaching is against the law?"

"Yes, sir."

"Give me your bread," Commander Slate said.

Katniss didn't want to, but she stopped herself from reacting. She opened her hand offering him the hard bread.

Commander grabbed her by her short hair and tipped her head back. "I'm watching you Twelve."

Katniss saw coldness in his eyes. This was a man who was bred to be a bully. He enjoyed humiliating people, drawing power from it. Katniss forced herself not to react. Years of fear and hunger kicked in and her face became a mask. He spit in her face before he pushed her away. He tossed the small bottle of water at her roughly. It hit her thigh and she flinched from the pain.

Katniss quietly stood and walked back to her corner. When Slate wasn't looking, she wiped her face. She opened the bottle and sipped the clean water. Her body demanded that she drink it quickly, but because she didn't. Katniss did not know when they would be given water again and she needed to conserve the precious liquid.

Katniss lay back, however, she wasn't able to doze off right away. Anytime she closed her eyes she saw another atrocity she had witnessed: the man that fell dead at the depot, the tears of the women when their hair was cut off, the shock of having her own hair cut off, the back-breaking work, Twill's tears, and Bonnie's abuse. Her body began to tremble uncontrollably until mercifully the sheer exhaustion caused her to finally fall asleep.

Turns out they were fed every three days but thankfully they received one exact cup of water a day. Katniss ate with moderation. Bonnie and Twill began to do as she did. They conserved their food, especially their water. Water was the most precious commodity amongst the inmates. There were times they were handcuffed, times that their bedroll seemed more confining than the jail cell she'd spent a few hours in back in District Twelve. At night, they had to make sure to stay on their bedroll. If they strayed out of it, the guards who Katniss refused to learn their names, would take their bedroll away. Not learning their names was in her own way a rebellion. They stripped the women of their personalities by calling them by a number, so Katniss didn't care to learn their names. They were nothing but guards - paid goons, unfit for names.

Katniss whispered this to Bonnie one night after a particularly rough night for her, and Bonnie's eyes glinted in the night. "Thanks, Katniss," Bonnie whispered.

Katniss nodded.

They worked hard creating new tunnels to mine in. The blasts were always dangerous because if they weren't done right there could be a cave-in. Katniss's nightmares began to surface and one night while whimpering, Slate kicked her awake.

"What's your damage, Twelve?" He growled.

Katniss shrugged, refusing to shake in front of Slate.

"Say's here her pa died in an explosion. His body was never found," one of the guards said, looking through her file.

Slate frowned, "Is this true?"

"Yes, sir."

"How old were you?"

"Eleven."

"Your mother, did she work in the mines?"

"No, sir."

"Why would your mother condemn you to this life?"

Slate sounded frustrated. Katniss didn't say anything.

"Go back to bed," he growled.

Katniss nodded and went back onto her bedroll, but she did not fall asleep that night. She began having sleepless nights. It was how she knew her theory about Bonnie and Commander Slate was true.

First, it was Bonnie, then the woman who looked like a fox, then an older woman named Marge, and one night they came for Twill. Twill screamed and Katniss could hear her cries and the sound of skin hitting skin. After that, Twill was never the same. She would rock back and forth at night. She was made to carry the debris to the waiting rail cars, but she would talk to herself.

Katniss knew it would only be a matter of time before the guards would turn their eyes on to her. She shuddered in fear. The women would return with a half-dead look and when it was time to work, their hands would bleed.

Katniss's own hands developed callouses. The heat was stifling, and the air grew poorer the deeper they dug. Cecilia, a motherly type who had been shaved bald, became ill. Her coughing became steadily worse, until one day she coughed blood. Katniss knew she had miner's lung and it wouldn't be long before she mercifully died. Cecilia had a two-year sentence, and when she died it was a relief.

But their workload doubled.

"You're all skin and bones, Twelve," Slate muttered one day when he withheld her ration of food. "You repulse me."

Katniss said nothing. She'd been kicked, spit at, and hit by the bottles of water that left bruises on her skin.

"You also smell Twelve, like a man," his face turned distasteful. "I don't imagine there's a fella waiting for you?"

She stared into space and thought of Peeta for the first time since she was brought here. She recalled his sunny smile, his kindness, his gentle hands. He would never do this to any woman. He would never treat anybody poorly. His mother was a different story, but at least his mother never sent him to die like hers did. Thinking of her mother caused her to look down. She didn't know how much more she was going to be able to take of this. Katniss was tired, bone-weary. She didn't know what day it was; she did not even know what week it was. She was just so tired.

The only way that she could possibly determine that time was passing was her hair grew. With each inch that grew, it gave her hope that her time was coming closer and closer to an end. But she couldn't stamp out her weariness because she had no real idea how long she had left. The weight of not knowing bore down on her. Her shoulders must have slumped, and Slate being perceptive, picked up on the movement.

Slate got into her face and began laughing. "You tired, Twelve?"

Katniss said nothing.

Slate's laughter rang in the cavernous room. "Wonder what happens if I feed you?" He gave her two pieces of bread. "Go ahead Twelve, enjoy it." He stood in front of her until she ate both slices of bread. But predictably, her stomach couldn't take the food and she threw up, which made Slate mad. She was backhanded and she fell backward. She expected Slate to beat her, but he did not.

"Next time I won't be so merciful," Slate rasped.

The next day they moved further into the tunnel. They were carving out a new space where they could take out a small chunk of the wall. Katniss couldn't focus on her job. There was something funny in the air almost like rotten eggs. It bothered her and she felt very drowsy. She shook her head and walked up to a guard and said, "I smell something."

The guard laughed and said, "The only thing I smell is you." He pushed her back saying, "Get back to work."

"I smell something," Katniss insisted.

"What the hell is wrong with you? Go back to work!" The guard hit her with the back of his hand and she went flying into another portion of the mine.

Katniss tried to get up, but the guard came after her. Katniss balled up into the fetal position, as she was kicked, then she was picked up and held by the collar. "I think you need to learn a lesson."

"What the hell is going on here?" Slate yelled.

"Twelve here is making trouble," the guard said.

"Canary," Katniss whispered.

"PULL BACK NOW!" Slate yelled right before he pulled the alarm.

In a blur, Katniss was hauled onto the guard's back as he ran down the tunnel quickly. She could hear Slate giving orders; she could hear running. Women crying. Slate yelled just before an explosion rocked the tunnel.

Katniss slowly opened her eyes. The intense white light made her eyes hurt and she moaned. She heard a faint beeping sound and everything was blurry.

"Katniss," a male voice called. It sounded familiar, it sounded like Peeta.

"Peeta," Katniss whispered right before she slipped into darkness once more.

When she woke up again a pretty nurse was by her side. "Miss Everdeen, you're awake," she said calmly.

"Peeta," she whispered.

"Try not to speak, you're safe," the young woman said.

Katniss nodded, her body felt sluggish.

"You saved many lives; many citizens are grateful. I shudder to think what would have happened if someone else, someone who didn't have your mining acumen had been there."

Katniss was confused. "Where am I," her voice sounded raspy.

"You're in a hospital. We've flown in the best doctors to come and attend to you," the young woman said.

There was a needle in her arm. She could feel its cool smoothness in her body.

"That's IV, intravenous fluids. When the doctors clear you, you'll be able to eat. In the meantime, you've got a visitor."

Katniss frowned, asking herself who would come to visit her.

"Hey Katniss," Rye came in, dressed in his peacekeeping uniform.

It was the first friendly face she'd seen since this first started. Tears pricked her eyes. She questioned if what she was seeing was real and not some dream. "Rye?"

"The one and only?"

"Am I dead?"

"No, you're not dead. I don't think you'd like to wake up to my face if you were. Though I have been told I have a nice face," Rye smiled.

"What happened?"

"The tunnel you guys were creating, lay below several other tunnels. Your warning caused the alarm to be pulled. Those who were working above you were able to get out in time using the auxiliary elevators. If you hadn't said anything, it would have been hundreds instead of a handful."

"Commander Slate?"

"Slate and a few of his cronies died in the blast."

The news that Slate and some of the guards that tortured them died was surprising. She wasn't glad for their deaths. There was no sweet revenge. Katniss wasn't sure what to feel. She only knew that she felt hollow inside. It was one thing for them to face justice for their brutality, it was another thing for them to die the same way her father did.

"Did all of the other women make it out?"

"Out of your unit, including you, five made it out," Rye said.

Although his words were meant to comfort her she was saddened to know four of her fellow inmates died down there. Had that guard listened to her, they could have all been saved. Katniss furrowed her brow, she wanted to know if the women that she'd formed a bond with were alright.

"Bonnie and Twill? Are they safe?" Katniss wanted to make sure they were out of danger.

"Yes they made it out and they're safe."

"Are you gonna take me back down there?" Katniss wondered if Rye was her new commander. At least now she knew they would be treated humanely.

"No."

"But," Katniss was confused.

"You've been paroled. I'm taking you back home."

The word home filled her with so much longing and tears came to her eyes.

"Peeta's been worried about you. He's going to lose his mind when he sees you."

Katniss looked away, steeling herself against getting her hopes up. She had no home. She was sure that Peeta wouldn't want her after this. Just like she knew her mother wouldn't want her either. So, Katniss asked herself, what was the point of going home? If there was no place for her.

How are you guys? Alive? It was a pretty intense chapter to write but in my head, I knew this had to happen. Poor Katniss had to suffer greatly. Now she has to get help and she needs to be able to open herself to trust after all she was betrayed by her mother.

Thank you to norbertsmom my incredible beta who was able to read this portion of this story and calmly gave me the positive vibes I needed to write the difficult scenes. To Notanislander who proofread and offered her unique perspective on the story, and to Justajjfan for offering her support and insight. love you all.

PS I do NOT own the Hunger Games.