A few days earlier…
Peeta held his hand out to help Rosalie board the train. She clutched her suitcase with a white hand as she stepped up and the conductor closed the door behind them.
"Please see yourselves to Compartment One, General. I hope you will find it most comfortable."
"Thank you," Peeta nodded, escorting Rosalie down the hall. He had a brief flash of memory, of being on a train, with another woman, before it disappeared, leaving a splitting headache. This was becoming a common occurrence but Peeta didn't complain because it gave him some sort of memory, however brief.
They stood in front of Compartment One but instead of going in, Peeta tugged Rosalie further down the hall. They stopped in front of 12 and he gently pushed her inside.
"One was most likely bugged," he whispered. "This one probably isn't but we'll whisper just in case."
Rosalie sat on the bed and immediately tucked her feet under her dress. Peeta noticed she looked pale and scared and he sat beside her.
"Hey, you ok?" She shook her head and gestured to the compartment around her. Then she took his hand, flipped it over, and used her finger to write in his palm.
"Darius. You were on a train with Darius?" She nodded sadly, leaning over and mimed injecting something into his neck. He shivered and rubbed the back of his neck anxiously.
"They hijacked him too?" She looked sad and stared at the wall.
"I'm so sorry, Rosalie. I'm sorry you and Darius were caught up in all of this. It's unfair, really. Well… none of this is fair, is it?" Rosalie gave him a weak smile and rested her chin on her knee.
"Why don't you rest? It won't take us long to get to 2." He patted the pillow and she stretched out, clutching the pillow beneath her head. She glanced up at him and he nodded.
"I swear I won't let anything happen to you. You can rest easy." She closed her eyes, her breathing evening out. Peeta leaned against the wall and clutched his knees to his chest. He knew he should probably rest as well but he was completely wired. He couldn't remember his time in 2, so he wondered what it would be like and if there would be anyone he could trust. He'd heard rumors of rebels stirring all across the district and he'd even heard whispers that Commander Lyme, the Hunger Games Victor, was leading them. Perhaps he'd be able to seek her out and talk to her. He hoped to get a message to Katniss in 13, to try to arrange safe passage for Rosalie and for himself. He glanced down at Rosalie and saw her hand cupping her baby belly. He knew she was close and he knew she wanted to give birth in 13. He had sworn to get her there safely but in truth, he wasn't sure if he would be able to hold to his promise. He imagined District 13 would think him a traitor and that other districts would be on the look-out for him. Peacekeeper forces still controlled the districts with a firm hand. Even if a rebellion was sweeping across Panem, the Capitol still held the upper hand.
He was a traitor to everyone right now. A Capitol Peacekeeper who was trying to get back to his Rebel wife. The First General of Panem, fleeing from his president's rule.
He was a walking talking hypocrisy. He huffed into his arm and tried to think of something else. Anything.
His mind wouldn't focus. He huffed again and Rosalie turned over. His face softened, looking apologetic.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you." She shook her head and gestured for him to hand the suitcase to her. He did and she dug through it a moment before snapping it closed again. She held something out toward him and he stared.
"What do I need paper for?" She handed him a piece of charcoal and nodded. Peeta's brow furrowed in confusion but he took the items from her and stared. Rosalie smiled and put her suitcase on the floor beside her bed.
"I don't-" she sighed heavily and shoved her finger to the paper, then his chest.
"Ow," he rubbed his chest, frowning. She rolled her eyes and settled back in to sleep. Peeta cast her a dubious look before positioning the paper on his knees.
It was several crisp white pages. His fingers traveled over the blank space, feeling his heart hammer for some strange reason. It was just a sheet of paper, he reasoned with himself. Why was he feeling this way?
He gripped the charcoal in his hands and it felt completely foreign. His brow raised, he set it to the page and drew a straight line.
"I am not an artist," he chuckled to himself but he continued to draw. Rosalie peeked her eyes open, grinning slyly, before closing them again. She had found the blank sheets in his house before they had left and she'd tucked them and the charcoal away, in case it could help Peeta with his memories. She may not be able to tell him much but she would do what she could to help him find his way back to himself. She knew from the way Darius had talked that Peeta was quite the artist. And he had sketchbooks full of pictures of Katniss. If his mind didn't catch up quickly, perhaps his instincts would kick in and his hands would surprise him. She could only hope.
They were headed toward danger, she knew, but she felt confident that he would be able to get them to safety. He was a smooth talker, she knew that from when they were young. And he was strong, stronger than her Darius had been even. Darius had even told her his suspicions that Peeta had been part of some kind of Capitol project, to increase his strength. She had never seen him fight, of course, but Darius had assured her they'd never want to be on his bad side.
Perhaps they could make it out of 2 undetected, and use the rebel refugee camps to get them all the way to 13. The more Peeta could remember, the closer they were to 13 and to safety.
Peeta started to hum while he worked and Rosalie lifted her head to look at him. She didn't know the tune but she knew it was one Katniss had sung often when she was young. Rosalie had always been jealous of the girl's otherworldly voice. Not that she had heard it a lot, but she had been in the same classes as Katniss and she had heard her sing often before her father had died. Rosalie watched Peeta's hand fly across the paper, as he hummed to himself distractedly. She let the tune coax her to sleep.
When she awoke, Peeta was gaping at the paper in his lap. He looked down at her with wide eyes.
"Am I an artist?" She grinned and leaned up to look at his work.
Artist. That was an understatement. She had never seen someone do what he had just done with a piece of charcoal.
He had drawn the meadow back home. Her eyes filled with tears as she stared at it. Dandelions in full bloom, blowing in the wind with the woods looming in the distance. Peeta caught her tears and he bit his lip.
"I didn't mean to upset you." She shook her head and pulled the book to her chest.
"Is it… familiar?" She used her finger to write 'home' in his palm.
"I thought so. I see it clearly in my mind. Bright yellow dandelions and the greenest trees. Flowers all over, in every color. There's a large fence too, keeping people away from it. That's from the Capitol though, isn't it?" She nodded slowly. He sighed and set the book aside.
"They've caused so much pain, the Capitol. When we get to 2, we have to identify ourselves as Rebels. We can't turn back, or we'll be hunted down. It will be easier once we are with Katniss again but we have a long while before we can make it to 13. So let's just be careful and stay by my side, alright? As soon as we have the chance, we'll leave the Peacekeeper compounds and make for the refugee camp. Maybe someone there will help us make it to 13." She lowered the drawing again and stared at the meadow. If she swayed slightly, she could almost imagine the breeze blowing her hair. She hadn't been to the actual meadow, of course. The only people she knew who had were Katniss and her hunting partner, Gale Hawthorne. Of course the whole district knew they hunted but they'd kept food on the table so no one would complain. Even Darius said the Peacekeepers appreciated fresh meat when she could provide it.
But there was a part of the meadow that she could visit, that was just outside the fence. It was scruffy and bare, not many flowers or plants grew there but she still liked it. She could imagine herself sitting among the tall grass, watching the woods.
Peeta set his hand on hers and she nearly jumped.
"I can draw you something else, if you like?" She wished she could describe Darius. She'd give anything to see him again. But then she remembered the picture she had given to him, and she frantically pointed at his shirt pocket. Frowning, he reached in and his face relaxed into realization as he withdrew the picture.
"I'll do my best," he whispered, smoothing out the photograph and setting it at the corner of the paper. Rosalie watched him work the rest of the train ride.
With Peeta's drawing tucked safely into the folds of her dress, and her suitcase in hand, she waited on the platform for Peeta to join her. He jumped off the train and offered to carry her bag.
"General Mellark, sir." Peeta turned to face two young Peacekeepers, their heads bowed low.
"We are pleased to welcome you to District 2, General."
"Back to District 2," one of them corrected the other.
"At ease, soldiers. I'm not as scary as they make me sound. And it's good to be back. This is my wife, Lavinia."
"Ma'am," they bowed to Rosalie and she looked uncomfortable. Peeta cleared his throat and shifted his suitcase to his other hand.
"Are you both here to escort us to the Peacekeeper Compound?"
"Yes sir. We can take your wife to your lodgings, if you prefer." Rosalie looked anxious but Peeta squeezed her hand.
"We stay together. She's too far along in her pregnancy for me to let her out of my sight."
"Of course, General! We meant no offence."
"It's ok, lads. Please take us to the Compound first. And if there is the opportunity to eat, Lavinia and I have traveled a long way so we would be appreciative of sustenance."
The boys, Maxiumus and Blaze, Peeta learned, were both from District 2 and apparently, best friends. They would cut the other off excitedly, or exchange an inside joke where Peeta and Rosalie were momentarily lost. Blaze kept looking back over the seat at Peeta, while Maximus drove to the compound. His face shone with excitement.
"You are from the Capitol? I have always wanted to go! My mother says if I become a good soldier, I will be invited to the Capitol and will meet President Snow! Do you think that's possible, General Mellark?"
"You're a good lad," Peeta nodded. "And I'll be sure to put in a good word for you."
"Maximus is just as good as I am, if not better," the boy said quickly, glancing at his friend. Peeta smiled.
"I'll tell President Snow that both of you are good soldiers."
"Oooh, thank you General Mellark!" Peeta wished he knew how old he was. These boys couldn't be more than 15, yet Peeta felt ancient next to them. When Blaze turned back around, Peeta leaned in to whisper in Rosalie's ear.
"Do you know how old I am?" She nodded and turned his hand over, as she did when she was about to tell him something. Peeta gaped at the numbers she drew in his palm.
"Are you sure? I feel so much older than that." Rosalie managed a weak smile and shrugged before turning back to look out the window.
"General, are you really going to blow up the Mountain?" Peeta's brow furrowed.
"All of our best peacekeepers and resources are inside that mountain. Why in the world would we blow it up?"
"We heard rumors," Maxiumus confessed. "We thought that was why you were here. To destroy it. To force the rebels out."
"The rebels' camps are closer to the border. First lesson, boys, pay no heed to gossip. You need to find your strong spots within your forces and the mountain is our stronghold. The rebels wouldn't go near there, lest our forces attack."
"But you are here to find the rebel camps? And destroy them?" Peeta chewed on his lip and glanced sideways at Rosalie but she was determinedly not looking at him. You're on your own, he could practically hear in his mind.
"I don't condone senseless murder, soldiers. But we cannot allow the rebels to think they can get away with such reckless acts of disloyalty. Our president has taken good care of our country, in his father's recent passing." Peeta tasted the lies on his tongue and they were bitter, almost too bitter for him to continue.
"We will make an example of them. Show them that the Capitol is still the beating heart of Panem. I do not intend to murder hundreds. But it will all depend on how these radicals respond to our message."
"Wow," Blaze said, his eyes wide. Rosalie shifted, and Peeta could tell she was trying to get far away from him. He wanted to assure her it was an act, that he had no such intentions of hurting anyone in the refugee camps. But the two boys in the front seats were as loyal to the Capitol as anyone could be.
Peeta briefly wondered if it would be better to tell them it was all a lie, what he had just said. That the Capitol was full of murderers and that the rebels had the right idea, seeking freedom. He wanted to tell the boys to take the right path, before their hands were stained with blood. He could see they were innocent and fresh to the squad, and he wanted to destroy those notions of a kindly president before they could become dangerous.
But he stayed silent the rest of the ride, ignoring Blaze's excited glances over his seat.
When they reached the compound, Peeta could immediately tell there was something wrong. He frowned as he surveyed the troops, noting their solemn looks.
"What's happened here," he said loudly.
"Rebel attack," Blaze muttered. "You know Commander Lyme? The Hunger Games Victor? We just got word that she is leading the rebels. It was a blow to District 2. We loved and respected her." Peeta wondered where the Commander was right now.
"General Mellark," someone said loudly. Peeta turned and was surprised to see the hatred in this man's eyes. As far as he knew, he had never met this man in his life. He bowed his head in return.
"Afternoon, Commander. I'm First General Peter Mellark."
"Yes… I was told you had lost your memory due to head trauma. I am sorry to hear. Welcome back to District 2, General." He shook the man's hand and winced at his tight grasp. Peeta squeezed back, making sure the commander knew his place. The man released his hand and scowled.
"I'm Commander Rossex. President Snow asked me to show you around and escort you through the Peacekeeper Compound. We are hopeful that you can rally the troops a bit. There has been a bit of rebellious activity here and they need to be brought into line. And that, afterall, is what you are good at." Peeta could swear the commander was holding back a smile.
"You may need to help me with my memories, Commander Rossex. I'm afraid I don't remember the last time we met."
"Let's just say I have witnessed your fury firsthand, General. I was a lowly peacekeeper when you were promoted to Lieutenant. But enough chit chat. Come with me. Soldiers Bronzeway and Placus can escort your wife to your lodgings." Peeta frowned until he realized Rossex was referring to Blaze and Maximus.
"Thank you, Commander, but as you can see my wife is with child and I prefer her to stay by my side."
"You'd prefer for your wife to enter the field, General?" Peeta swallowed and glanced sideways at Rosalie. Of course he wouldn't want her to enter the field. It was dangerous but then so was leaving her alone.
"Perhaps Blaz- I mean, Soldiers Bronzeway and Placus can keep her company right here while she waits for me to return." Blaze and Maximus both looked eager as they stood beside Rosalie.
"We would be honored, sir."
"Madame Mellark is safe with us, General."
"Wonderful," Rossex said drily. "Shall we?" A jeep pulled up and Rossex opened the door for Peeta to get inside. He glanced back at Rosalie and nodded.
"I'll return soon." She couldn't hide the fear in her eyes. Peeta felt guilty as he climbed into the seat and Rossex took the place of the driver.
"Well Madame Mellark, let's make sure you are the most comfortable! I would be happy to fetch you something to eat!"
"Here is a chair, Madame Mellark! Please sit, I would hate for you to feel faint!"
"The tour won't take long, don't you worry. General Mellark will be back soon."
"Can we get you anything to drink? Tea, perhaps?" Rosalie looked from one boy to the other. They honestly reminded her of some of the youngins back in 12 and her heart was warmed. But she was in enemy territory and she couldn't let her guard down. She swallowed and lowered into the chair, folding her hands in her lap. She nodded to Maximus and mimed drinking tea.
"Tea? Of course, Madame Mellark! I'll return momentarily!"
"Bring her some food too! Poor dear must be starving."
"I had no idea that Madame is an avox," Maximus whispered to Blaze as he hurried off. Rosalie squared her shoulders and waited for Peeta to return.
"What exactly is it that you are asking of me," Peeta asked, his eyes on the baton in Rossex's hands.
"We need to maintain order. And too many of our troops are slipping. If we aren't careful, they will fall into the rebels' traps. We need to remind them that we are Peacekeepers and we are merciless. Actually, YOU need to remind them."
"Me?"
"You ARE First General of Panem, sir," he sneered. Peeta didn't miss his tone. "You once had no issue punishing your fellow peacekeepers. It's time to punish again."
"Why do you think it is better to punish rather than educate and sway back to our side?"
"Is it not better to be feared than liked? How do you keep your troops in line, General? You make sure they know who is in power. We have several who have already stepped out of line and insulted the President. We have just been holding off on their punishment. It will be perfect for the troops to see their General asserting his authority." HIs eyes positively sparkled as Peeta took the baton from him. Peeta studied it in his hands and swallowed thickly.
"Is it just your memories that have disappeared, or has your strength gone too?" Peeta's eyes flashed.
"Watch your tongue, Commander. I don't take kindly to backtalk from anyone."
"Good. Then you should be ready to see the troops."
Haymitch peered into the room and sighed when he saw it was empty, save for the person he had come to see. He didn't really want an audience for this and he had a feeling he would be banished from the room very shortly. But he needed to show her. He expected rage but it was all coming together, and Katniss kept asking, and if he could just get Violet to see...
He gripped the file tightly as he rapped on the door with his knuckles.
Violet looked up and her face darkened when she saw him.
"Katniss isn't here."
"I didn't come to see Katniss. I actually wanted to speak with you."
"I have nothing to say to you."
"Yeah, you've been saying that for years. But you do. I don't appreciate the hostility, Violet. I never did anything to you." Her eyes flashed and she straightened to her full height.
"Never-"
"He was my best friend, Violet," he cut her off angrily. "I'm sorry I hurt you… but you couldn't expect me to stay quiet about it."
"Get out of here, Haymitch. I don't want to see you right now. Or, at all, really."
"Tough. Now look, I've gathered quite a few files together and I'm slowly putting all the pieces together. There's some skeletons that need to be cleaned out of quite a few closets. And I'm not outing you here, Violet. I want you to see what I have found. Just so that you know there is proof, in case someone comes looking." Violet scowled and yanked the file out of his outstretched hands. She flipped it open and Haymitch watched her read. Her face colored, from extremely pale, to flaming red, back to pale, then almost purple with rage. She pushed it back into his hands and tucked her hands under her arms, as if the papers had caused her pain.
"What proof is that?"
"Excuse me? This is from the Justice Building. Census records. I'd actually be surprised if Peeta hasn't seen them, since he was Lieutenant of 12."
"I'm sure he hasn't."
"Yeah, because he would have had a hell of a reaction, right. Does she know?"
"Of course not. Haymitch, how in the hell is any of this any of your business? There you again. Poking around, where you are NOT welcome or wanted."
"Oh I'm used to that," he said uncaringly. "You know Katniss has a right to see this, don't you?"
"Why? What good will it do anyone?"
"It's MOTIVE, Violet! Don't you understand? You can't possibly believe that your husband was discovered by the Capitol? After how careful we were?"
"Motive? What ARE you on about? I don't know what you're insinuating, but-" Haymitch held up his hand, huffing. He scrubbed at his face and shook his head.
"I take it you don't want me to show these to Katniss."
"You do and you are dead to me, Haymitch Abernathy."
"Didn't you say that to me already? One dark night, a long time ago…"
"Go to hell," she shrieked. "There is no point in your dragging out ancient history. None! Ash is gone. End of story. You need to stop playing Detective here. Leave Ash in peace."
"For your information, my playing detective has nothing to do with Ash. Or it isn't about him directly, anyway. It's about Peeta. It's some interesting information that I can guarantee you Katniss doesn't know about. It also may explain why he has been able to fight off that poison so much. And may help us, if we ever get him back."
"Good. Wonderful. Stick to asking about Peeta and leave me alone. Leave Ash alone. Leave Bran alone. Just let us BE, Haymitch." She angrily pushed past him and the papers fell to the floor. She paused beside him, her eyes glassy.
"I don't know why you pretend that you didn't know about this. You knew. You knew and you told him. I couldn't look him in the eye after that."
"I didn't know for sure. I only had my suspicions. I didn't think anyone truly knew-"
"He knew. And it haunted him. But nothing changed. He loved his daughters. I'm not sure if he ever forgave me but he did love them both. I can never forgive you for that, Haymitch. I hope you know that."
"I'm sorry I hurt you, Violet," he whispered. "I truly am. But I was thinking of my best mate. The man who was always there for me. He deserved to know."
"Then you should have let me tell him."
"Would you have? Really? Because I'm not altogether sure you would have. It was rash, I'll admit that, but-"
"Enough. Where are these files from, Haymitch? What are you up to?"
"I told you. I'm just trying to figure out the best way to help Peeta, if we can get him back. Rye is scared he will have lost his way. The more we know, the more we can be prepared. And these files are related to Peeta." Violet cast the papers an angry look.
"These are private files. I doubt very much they came from the census records."
"I stole some of them from Peeta's house before we left. He had several boxes of files. They were doing experiments on him, Violet. They were turning him into a weapon for Panem."
"What is that even supposed to mean?"
Haymitch huffed and dropped to his knees, gathering them in a pile and forcing them back into the file.
"There's quite a bit of medical stuff that I don't understand. I want you and Prim to take a look but I'm not sure I want these 13 head doctors to see them yet."
"Whyever not? If they can help Peeta-"
"Then I'll be grateful. But from what I've read, it's going to take some science and some miracles to cure what they've done. And I'm not just talking about the hijacking."
"You need to tell Katniss. She has a right to know all of this." He nodded and her hand flew out to grip his wrist.
"I will tell my girls… in my own time. Do you understand? Do not show them those documents. Please," she added, her shoulders falling. Haymitch heaved a great sigh and nodded.
"OK."
"What's the rush, anyway? There is a war going on. Is this absolutely necessary?"
"All of this needs to come out eventually. One thing leads to another, and if we're going to save Peeta, everyone needs to be aware of what's happened. It's all connected, Violet. Whether we like it or not."
"I just don't understand how-"
"I need to speak to one more person about this before I can put this particular puzzle together."
"One more person? Who else knows…" her eyes widened and her teeth sank into her bottom lip.
"Oh," she said miserably. "Of course.
"I don't want to hurt you, Violet," he said sadly. "Or your girls. Or anyone else. Despite what you may believe, I do care about all of you."
"And you think this will help Peeta," she said in slight disbelief.
"It might," he nodded.
"You think she was involved, don't you? You've never said it but I've always felt it."
"I think… yes, Margaret was involved. But I also think there is more to it. I know someone else was involved. I just don't know the full story."
"And what makes you think she will tell it to you," she scoffed.
"Because at this moment, I have solid proof that she sold her son to the Capitol. Which is also highly illegal. And I'm fairly certain Madame Coin will frown upon a woman who sells a child into slavery. So if she wants to avoid the consequences, she has to come clean." Violet inhaled sharply and shook her head.
"I hope you know what you're doing, Haymitch. And that it's worth it. I think you are about to hurt a lot of people."
"That's not my intention, believe me. I want to save a lot of people. Starting with your daughter, who is on her way to rescue her husband as we speak."
Happy holidays! Xoxo
