Golden Cages & Borrowed Wings (Mockingjay reimagined) Chapter 8 Breaking, a hunger games fanfic

Directly after he walks out of the mess hall during Katniss' second interview

Gale

I couldn't take it anymore. The pity in my family's eyes. The damn sympathy in Mellark's eyes after he saw the first time me and Katniss kissed. I didn't funckin want that. It was like someone reopening a wound. And if I didn't get up and get the hell out of there I was gonna start bleeding all over.

She had looked good in the interview, except when she turned to the left a little and the light hit her face just right, she had this shadow on the bottom corner of her left jaw. I couldn't be sure but it looked suspiciously like a bruise. I cursed under my breath so bad I made my mother gasp.

It was getting to the point where my mind felt like a hard boiled egg. Cooked and heavy on the inside with fears and nightmares about what they were doing to her every passing moment. And fragile and cracking on the outside, only a thin layer of delicate protection keeping everything intact. But the pressure was mounting. And the spider web fractures were growing.

I needed to get some air, and needed a distraction.

I headed down to the combat room. Hoping that if nothing I could exhaust myself by beating the crap out of something. But every damn screen was turned on, and tuned into the interview, all along the way. And I heard her voice again.

And she was lit up from the inside again. She was really singing too, her voice and the microphone picking up every breath and beat and rest in her voice. And I could see it in her eyes, what she was trying to say.

Shadows are fallin' and I'm runnin' out of breath

Keep me in your heart for a while

(Her eyes were sad here, she was talking about running out of time. She was talking about being captured.)

If I leave you it doesn't mean I love you any less

Keep me in your heart for a while

(She was saying goodbye, and it made me stop in my tracks.)

When you get up in the mornin' and you see that crazy sun

Keep me in your heart for a while

There's a train leavin' nightly called "When All is Said and Done"

Keep me in your heart for a while

(She wanted us all to be able to understand that we would go on, even if she wouldn't. She wanted us to keep her memory. My breath caught in my throat.)

Sometimes when you're doin' simple things around the house

Maybe you'll think of me and smile

You know I'm tied to you like the buttons on your blouse

Keep me in your heart for a while

(She was asking us to be happy without her. Didn't she know how impossible that was? Her eyes were fierce and kind and strong, not an ounce of self pity in them, and I curled my hands into fists, fighting against the cracks in my heart, in my soul.)

Hold me in your thoughts

Take me to your dreams

Touch me as I fall into view

When the winter comes

Keep the fires lit

And I will be right next to you

(This part was for Mellark. If the words weren't a dead tip off, the way she looked into the camera was. Her look was practically scorching. And there was a pang in my heart. I'd never know what it had been like, to love her that way, or hold her the way he had. But at that moment I thought missing out on that was probably better than really knowing. This must be eating him up alive. Not that I was faring that much better.)

Engine driver's headed north up to Pleasant Stream

Keep me in your heart for a while

These wheels keep turnin' but they're runnin' out of steam

Keep me in your heart for a while

(Again, she was saying she didn't have much time. This was killing her, to live like this. And I knew, from the completely resolute, almost ferociously determined look on her face that she was getting ready to try and find a way to end it all.)

Her voice faded off softly, and I found myself slipping down the wall. My legs failed me for the first time I could remember. I knew, deep inside of me that it would be idiotic, and selfish to except her try and stay alive. But that's exactly what we all wanted, despite seeing her pain spread out for the entire country to gawk over. This was the Capitol we were talking about. They hated her, and tried to manipulate her and control every aspect of her life when she was in good standing with them. Hell, they had forced her and Mellark to screw each other. Whatever was happening to her now, it had to be worse.

I didn't want to imagine it. I didn't want to know. But they were televising it. At least the emotional part of her torture. The physical and psychological stuff I guess they were still doing behind closed doors. The anger inside me felt infinite. As infinite as my despair. Mellark thought he could save her by making movies. I seriously doubted that, but the guy was so desperate, he was barely hanging on by a thread. I just needed to find a way to get these damn people to see, to actually get the ball rolling. We needed to fight.

Without meaning to, I headed down to the hospital ward. My mind was whirling, as I made my way towards Deen's room.

Primrose was there, checking on him. I stared at her for a minute. Katniss and her sister were so different. Where one was fearless and unflappable in the face of danger, the other was delicate and unable to wield a weapon to save her own life. And where one was commanding and cool in the face of sickness and injury, the other turned practically green or ghostly pale at the sight of blood or wounds. But the wounds we were trying to recover from now couldn't be bandaged or driven out with medicine.

This wasn't the first time we'd been left behind. For me, her sister, or her mother, this was an old familiar feeling. Except this time, there was no chance of her coming back unless we went and got her.

Prim leaned over Deen, checking on his bandages across his chest. The kid looked pretty out of it still, feverish and out of sorts, and I almost regretted coming to visit him while he was recovering. I knocked quietly and Prim looked up a little startled. But when she saw it was me, her eyes grew round and large. I extended one of my arms to give her a side hug as I walked into the room. She quickly accepted my hug, and then cleared her throat and drew away. She started checking on deen's chart, in an effort I think to not break down in tears. No doubt she had seen her sister's most recent interview. Her and Deen had probably watched it together, since she was here most often than not in the hospital ward looking after her mother, Rory, and Deen.

"Sparrow. Heard you're feeling better." I tell him by way of greeting.

He looks up at me, and nods. He still looks like crap, but there's a determined set to his chin. He's Seam through and through. I guess without all the fancy Capitol suits and drinks and crap he's back to his real self. I certainly respect this version much better than the drunk and boasting party boy who had gotten off the train.

"Yeah, I'll be up and walking around in a few days." Deen says in a slightly encouraged tone.

"Good. I need to talk to you." I say, looking over at Prim. She sees me, and crosses her arms.

"Whatever you two are scheming, I want in. She's my sister too, damn it. And I'm not 12 years old anymore. I can handle stuff better than you think." She says, with a challenge in her blue eyes.

"Prim, I don't want you getting in trouble." I tell her firmly. Katniss would lose her shit if I got Prim into trouble, whether it was to save her life or not.

"Oh, and leaving my sister to fend for herself in the hands of those damn bastards is going to keep me safe? I don't care Gale. I want in." She replied, resolutely.

"This is kinda between me and the kid. It was our job to keep her safe, and we fuc-messed up." I correct myself before I start cursing. I'm still too angry, too emotional over seeing Katniss.

"Gale, you can say fucked up. I'm not an infant. I've heard worse at school." She tells me with an uncharacteristic eye roll. It seems teenage attitude had finally found the elusive and usually unfailingly polite Primrose Everdeen.

"Prim, look, this is kind of a man to man-" I start to say, hoping to throw her off the trail, but she cuts me off.

"Oh, don't you even try to pull that with me, Gale Hawthorne. If you love my sister at all, and I know you do, you can't be that misogynistic or pig headed when it comes to men and women. Your friendship wouldn't have survived this long. And she certainly wouldn't have let you kiss her, if you were sexist." She says and I fight the flush that threatens to creep into my face. Great, now the whole country, including her mother, sister, friends, and her actual lover had seen me and Katniss kiss. It's damn embarrassing, but I don't really have time to be embarrassed by my desperate kamikaze kiss from almost 3 years ago.

What I need to do is enlist some help. I look over and study Prim a little more intently. She does seem more mature than the crying girl I had to drag away from the Reaping when Katniss volunteered for her.

"Well,..." I start to say, looking up and running my hand along the back of my neck in an unsure manner.

"Spill it." She commands, this time in a tone that is very reminiscent of her older sister's. Jeez when had Prim gotten so-

"I guess the bossy streak runs deep with the Everdeen women." Deen quips and she blushes a little but then stares Deen down.

"Be quiet, I'll tell them to reduce your painkillers." She threatens, and I think, yep, they're related. That slightly malevolent gleam in her eye that promised trouble must have been inherited. I wonder if they had gotten it from their father?

"Yes, ma'am." Deen replies, a little too quickly and lightly to really be scared. And I scowl at the smile he's trying to keep off his face. Damn kid will flirt with a lamppost if given half the chance. Which I wasn't about to. Time to get the conversation back on track.

"Look, I don't know if Peeta has talked to you, but he's working on the political side of things, trying to handle all the public perceptions and crap. And that's fine. Only, I don't know if it will be enough." I tell them both seriously, and after a second Deen nods.

"I've been kind of thinking the same thing." He says.

"Ok, good. We need to get in with these guys. We need the inside scoop, and not just what Haymitch ferrets out of the soldiers he talks with. I mean we need a real in." I tell them and they listen intently.

"I was thinking of joining up, officially." I say in a quiet voice.

"Gale!" Prim exclaims in a shocked whisper. I stare at her with a hard edge to my gaze.

"No, no, that's actually a good angle. What division are you going out for?" Deen interjects and I feel grateful he agrees.

"I was hoping to get assigned to weapons in engineering, but it takes a lot of schooling, and credentials. I...don't know if I have the qualifications." I say regretfully.

"I actually think I can help with that." Deen says confidently.

"Seriously?" I ask and he nods.

"Yeah, I've got an in with the new head of special weaponry. He came to visit me today. Beetee Latier. He's a friend of mine, victor from District 3." He tells us and I'm baffled that his fancy connections could actually come in handy.

"Shit, I had no idea more victors were here." I tell him, before remembering that Prim is still with us. But she doesn't seem bothered by my slip up. She's looking at Deen.

"Yeah, a lot of them tried to escape around the time we did. Some made it, some didn't." Deen explains, and I nod. It makes sense that the rebels who were involved trying to help Katniss escape had also tried to escape themselves in the event that the plan failed, and their names were discovered later.

"Well, that's good to know. Alright, then if you introduce me maybe that will help with that part of the plan. Okay, now let's discuss how you two can contribute, and when we're done, we have to decide if we're going to tell the others." I tell them both conspiratorially.

"Why wouldn't we?" Prim asks and I grimace. It's going to be hard explaining my reasoning to her. She's almost as big a fan of Peeta's as Kantiss is.

"Well, for one thing, if we did, someone would have to go scrape Mellark out of a puddle somewhere-" I start off, and I know it's snarky, and not what I meant to say at all. The guy really doesn't need anyone pointing out his shortcomings right now.

"Gale!" Prim whispers fiercely at me. I shrug.

"I'm not trying to be an ass Prim. I'm just being honest. Hell, I'm surprised the guy hasn't broken down yet." I finally say in an exasperated tone.

"It's not exactly his fault he's having a hard time these days." She replies and I know she's right. Losing Katniss is making all of us a little unbalanced.

"Yeah, well, I don't blame him. I just know we've all gotta try and keep our shit together if we're going to get her back." I tell Prim and after staring at me with fading disapproval for a minute she nods. But then she adds,

"You know he lost his father, sister in law, future niece or nephew and the love of his life in less than a month's time right? I'd say Peeta's doing remarkably well."

"Yeah, okay Prim, like I said, I'm not saying he doesn't have a reason. We've all been through a lot, maybe him and his brother more than most. But we can't afford to blow this." I tell her and she sighs.

"He's right. Maybe, we'll have to decide how much to share. Haymitch said something along those same lines, and at first I didn't believe him. But then I saw the way Peeta reacted to your sister's first interview. He collapsed on the floor of my hospital room for hours. No matter what Hyamitch or I told him, he wouldn't get up or snap out of it. It was like he couldn't even hear us. And then he just got up suddenly, and walked out. I don't know how stable he is right now exactly. Sometimes he's fine, other times…." Deen actually backs up my argument and I'm surprised. I was not expecting that.

"Oh dear, why didn't anyone say anything earlier? I need to speak to Peeta's doctors. It sounds like he's on the verge-" Prim starts to say as she wrings her hands worriedly.

"Ok Prim, then that sounds like an area that you can help in. They already trust you here at the hospital. Maybe you can find a way to get assigned here?" I cut in, trying to get past the horrible part that includes talking about this. About how much we all miss her.

Because if we start talking about that, I'll probably end up trying to steal a hovercraft to fly to the Capitol and save her tonight, and end up in their military jail for the next 5 years.

So we don't talk about how we feel, or how we're doing. We just plan.

Katniss

Directly after her 2nd interview

As soon as I step away from the microphone I feel the effect of the drugs they gave me. I sway unsteadily on my feet. But there is a white uniform and a strong grip to drag me away.

Everything feels muted, like the world turned down low. The colors and sounds are dialed back, when surprisingly just a few moments before it had felt like everything inside of me was on fire. That's why I had sung a different song. The anger had burned against the high walls of the medically induced state I was in, and for a moment, the anger had won.

Anger.

So much goddamn indignation against it all.

The torture, the interviews, the tapes, the performing. It was like Snow was in a hurry to rip us all into as many pieces as he could before he killed us.

I wish someone would just kill us….

Well, at least me.

They drag me away, sometimes having to half carry me, and instead of the cells they take me back to a medical examination room.

There are voices.

"I have no idea how she was able to overcome the drugs. They should have made her more pliable, more agreeable."

"You better get your shit straight doc. Snow doesn't take kindly to mistakes. Someone's going to pay for what she did tonight, and not just her. If you want to stay alive, I suggest you find the right dose or combo, or cocktail and fucking fix it for next time."

"Of course. Of course. I'll correct it right away."

A door closing. A needle drawing blood this time instead of shoving substances in my arms.

A worried voice muttering.

"How the hell did you beat it? What the hell are you?"

I giggle, the drugs have ebbed into a soft emptiness that makes me feel like I'm floating.

"A mockingjay." I whisper to no one.

I hear the sharp intake of breath nonetheless.

Then sweet oblivion.

….

When I wake up I'm back in my cell. My body feels cold and hollow. I feel sweaty and when I turn my head I realize I've vomited all over the side of my bed. I grimace in disgust as I sit up and scoot away from the mess.

I'm trying to piece together what happened, when I hear Finnicks's whisper call out.

"Katniss?"

"Yeah, still here." I say with a note of disappointment in my voice.

"Well that's something I guess."

"Is it though, Finnick? Is it really?"

"Katniss, not everybody made it back last night. Maybe you're not happy you did, but I'm not going to lie and tell you I'm glad you're still alive."

"What?"

"Shhh."

"The trial of the victors, it's like our Games, Katniss, only smaller, deadlier. They took Val last night. He...hasn't come back yet. Maybe he's injured..."

That's when I notice the blood on Finnick's shirt, so much I can see it in the dark.

"FINNICK?"

"I'm fine. Most of this blood isn't even mine. Katniss, what did they do to you?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean what do you remember?"

"After I had practiced enough, they took me to get dressed and prepped. Then I did another interview with Caesar. Then I sang. Why?"

"Well, it seems then that they're mixing things up. Some of us had easy nights, like yours. Joanna had to chop down trees in a race against the clock. She just barely made it in time. Chaff had to fight lion mutts though. And I had to swim for two hours without getting eaten by sharks, but at least they gave me my trident. Seeder had to perform a harvest dance."

"Is..is that what they're doing? Making us perform and compete? Do you think they'll toss me into a fight with mutts?" My voice sounds hopeful, almost giddy.

Finnick frowns a little at me.

"No, Katniss, Snow's too smart for that. He knows you'd just let them kill you. My guess is, he'll keep dragging out the romance drama and making you sing. I think they're turning it into a variety hour of sorts. You're the fluff pieces in between the action and violence. Besides, bruised and bloody victors don't sell for much here in the Capitol. Which I guess makes some of us feel lucky."

It's my turn to scowl at him, and he automatically looks ashamed.

"I'm sorry-"

"Forget it." My words are forceful, my tone biting. He looks away.

"No, that was horrible of me to say. I'm not thinking straight. I'm so tired."

"Then go to sleep Finnick." I say in a much softer tone.

"I don't think I can."

I sigh, I know what he means. The arena, the fighting, the blood, it does something to the rest of us that keeps our bodies on high alert. That's why Peeta and I had started sleeping in the same bed after our Games. The insomnia and the nightmares were particularly nasty, even after years away from the arena. I couldn't imagine how Finnick and the others who had to fight mutts were feeling right now.

My heart pinched painfully in my chest.

These people, who I had known peripherally for years, I felt such deep sympathy and empathy for them it was frightening.

We were all victors. We were all survivors. We were all broken and alone.

I heard faintly the sounds of Seeder crying a few cells down from me. Chaff, who I would never have thought of breaking down in a million years started cursing and kicking things in his room amidst angry crying.

Joanna muttered from the other side of my wall about needing to sleep for tomorrow in case they put them through more trials.

And I remember Fininck's comment about someone named Val. And I realize with shame that he's referring to the male morphling. He might be dead now too. And I didn't know his name until Finnick told it to me earlier.

What was wrong with me? Why? Just WHY? I had shunned him because I thought he was a mess. Someone I would never in a million years want to know because of his drug problem and his ties to the Hunger Games. But we were all tied. And we were all a mess. And it was so cold down here, I was still sweating and shivering.

Suddenly, I think of Deen, and how he had run headlong into the arms of pills and drinks after his Games. A tear escapes down the corner of my eye.

They are safe. They are protected.

Nothing else matters.

But it does matter.

It's breaking me, and I don't know how to stop it.

And I wish for one heart shattering moment that Peeta was here with me, to help me. And that unbelievably selfish thought chokes me for a good four minutes as I try not to sob. Peeta wouldn't be sitting idly by while people were in pain. Peeta would try to talk, he'd try to reassure people. He could turn almost any situation around, even a particularly bad one, with humor and wit and gentleness, and kindness. Oh, he was so kind. How many people in the world were kind like Peeta?

I stand up. Clenching my jaws, relieved when I don't automatically feel a sharp stab of pain (I guess they fixed my tooth). And I wrack my brain to try and help.

The sounds of despair and discomfort are more apparent now. Joanna is practically fuming at Chaff, who's still stuck in angry tirade mode. I wince, because he reminds me so much of Haymitch.

Haymitch, who was so alone before Peeta and I.

But we are not alone here, just as he is not alone there.

Haymitch has his fellow victors, Peeta and Deen. And I have these five.

I clear my throat loudly, for attention, twice.

"I have to learn how to write songs. They...well they want me to do things like that and learn about music and instruments-"

"Hurray for you, you pampered, painted bit-"

"Joanna,"

"I was actually going to ask if you all would help me? I'm terrible with words, or writing. So maybe you all could share some of your favorite songs? And I could….listen and get ideas?"

"Katniss I sing like an old goat."

"That's ok Chaff, I don't mind a few wrong notes. What I'm more interested in are the words. And since we're all having trouble sleeping…"

Chaff agrees, and sings a few bars of his favorite drinking song. And he really is quite bad, but it just helps to ease the tension and instead of crying people start to laugh. Then, Finnick, catching onto my plan, and not to be outdone, sings a song about a poor boy who wanted to marry a rich Captain's daughter. He had a good voice, surprisingly, or not surprisingly. Finnick Odair seems to be one of those people for whom everything comes easily.

At least, most things.

Then Seeder surprises us by teaching me a song that feels faintly familiar. It's about going down to a river, it's about praying. It's odd I've never contemplated the ideas in the song. There's this feeling of it being bigger, and meaning something deeper. The significance of it, the difference in the music and the words aren't lost on me. It feels ancient, like something older than the forests back home. It feels old like the mountains. And when she finishes, there is something that settles over our cells, that if I hadn't known better, I'd say felt like peace.

But we were all prisoners, condemned to die. And songs couldn't really quiet our fears. Could they? It certainly felt like that at the moment.

And then Finnick surprised me, by asking me to sing a song.

"What should I sing?"

"Something happy." was his only request.

So I sing a song that both my mother and father used to hum and sing around the house. It's a song about love, and growing older, and becoming brave. It's about questions and changes and oceans. It's about hope.

And when I finish, I hear the tell tale snores of sleep coming from Chaff's cell. Even Mag's little wheezy sound drifts out over the quietness, that means she's asleep too. Everyone I think is asleep, even Finnick judging by the steady rising and falling of his chest.

But then I hear Joanna's voice.

"That voice of yours Brainless, that'll keep you alive, longer than the rest of us."

I bite down on my bottom lip.

"I don't think that's what I want...Joanna."

She sighs.

"It will at least keep them away from you, until they close the bidding," She says quietly, tiredly. And I fight the urge to ask about what she means. I am note sure I want to know what goes on in the troture sessions the others go to. My own are horrible enough.

But I can't help it.

"Joanna, I'm not...well...I'm not inexperienced. You all heard it, and Snow probably did too on the tapes. So why are they waiting-"

"Because, you're practically still a virgin in their eyes having been with only one person. Because you were in love with your lover. Because they'll enjoy it more, breaking that and taking it away from you. Because they're sick fucks who only know how to get pleasure from other people's pain."

She says the words quietly, angrily. So angrily.

But I just feel stricken.

"You've got to try and figure something out, Brainless." She whispers to me, desperately.

"I know." I reply quietly, as I face the wall and try to fall asleep.