A/N: Sexual content featured.

KATNISS POV

In the weeks following the announcement of these special Panem Centennial Hunger Games, Peeta's personality seemed to shift from my loving and doting husband to my own personal trainer. He insisted that if we trained for the arena - all three of us, including Haymitch - then we'd have better chances of winning, and he was quite the whip-cracker about it, too. He made us do laps around the Village every day, he made us form an exercise routine and change our diets, and he even seriously limited Haymitch's liquor supply. In early March, Haymitch and I stood huffing and puffing as we tried to catch our breath after Peeta had us run fifteen laps around the Village.

"I'm gonna kill that boy before he even gets a chance to get in that arena," Haymitch hissed with frustration.

"He's not going into the arena at all, Haymitch, so you'd better step up or you'll be one of the first to go," I told him. I didn't directly ask Haymitch to go into the arena in place of Peeta, but I did make a point that we had two young children and one of us (me) had no choice but to go in the arena simply because of circumstances.

"No time for stopping. Let's go!" Peeta barked at us when he passed us again.

"Keep barking orders at me and you're not getting laid tonight," I spat at him, and Haymitch snorted.

"That's a threat if I've ever heard one," he said. Now with the fence electrified twenty four/seven and the peacekeeper count increased, we spent almost all of our time exclusively in the Village, Peeta not even going down to the bakery as often as he used to. We were surprised one day on a Sunday by Peeta's parents showing up on our doorstep claiming they hadn't seen Peeta in over two weeks now.

"He's been very focused on this... well... the Games situation," I told them when I invited them into the house for tea. Peeta had gone out for an early morning walk, which I wouldn't join him for, and I was alone in the house with my two daughters and now Peeta's parents, who were holding their granddaughters on their lap, Maevis in Mellie's lap and Lark in Caseo's.

"Goodness, this house is a mess. Have either of you had any time to clean it?" Mellie had asked me, referring to the mess in the living room. Honestly, I couldn't even be mad, because I was almost constantly tired thanks to Peeta's rigorous training routine and raising two children didn't make that any easier. "I think I'll stay for a little bit and help you two out."

"Peeta's not going to want to impose," I began, but she waved her hand in the air to brush me off.

"I insist. You two shouldn't have to live in squalor because my son has decided constant training is more important than living normally," Mellie replied.

"He means well, Mells," Caseo said, and then he turned to me. "I'll have a talk with him, see if I can get him to cut you some slack. And that mentor of yours, too, Mr. Abernathy. He isn't looking so well."

"Going through withdrawal, probably. Peeta cut his liquor supply," I told my father-in-law. Not long after, when Mellie had started to put the house back together and Caseo sat in the living room to play with his granddaughters, Peeta came home through the kitchen door, pausing as he watched me wash the dishes.

"Have a good walk?" I asked him as he crossed the room to kiss my cheek.

"Little brisk but yeah, good walk," he said, picking up the wet dishes I had set on the counter and drying them with a towel. "I stopped by the bakery to see my parents, but they weren't there."

"That's because they're in the living room wondering where you've been for the last two weeks," I told him, and his eyes widened a little. "Go on, I'll finish up here." Leaving me in the kitchen while I washed the last couple of dishes, I shut the water off to dry the remaining wet dishes and listened to Peeta interact with his parents.

"Mom, Dad, I... I'm sorry, I didn't know you were coming today," I heard Peeta say to his parents once he'd entered the living room.

"We came to make sure you were all right, Peet. You haven't been around much and we were worried," I heard his father tell him. "On that note, we need to have a talk, son."

"A talk? Okay... Mom, you don't have to do any of that," Peeta said, now addressing his mother.

"Poor Katniss is tired out from all the work she has to do on top of being a mother, so I'm going to come around more often and help you out around the house," Mellie told him. I heard something muffled, then I heard two heavy sets of footsteps approach the kitchen and pass through, then I watched as the two Mellark men stepped outside through the kitchen door to discuss Peeta's ridiculous training plan. About an hour later, I was upstairs changing Maevis when I felt a pair of arms wrap themselves around me from behind.

"I'm sorry... I didn't realise the toll all this was taking on you," Peeta told me, resting his chin on my shoulder. "I'll cut back a bit... but we still need to train at least a few days a week."

"That's fine, it's much better than all seven days a bloody week," I told my husband, securing Maevis's diaper and turning in Peeta's arms to kiss his chin. "Your daughters miss you, you know." Peeta smiled down at Maevis and picked her up from the changing table, holding her on his hip and kissing her little cheek, framed by chocolate brown hair.

"Daddy's sorry, sweetie-pie! I'll make it up to you, I promise," he told his younger daughter, who giggled when he kissed her cheek again.

On a more serious note, ever since Freya's Victory Tour, things in District Twelve have gotten a lot harsher. Our old head peacekeeper, Cray, who never seemed to care about what the people did, was replaced by a much harsher man from District Two called Romulus Thread, and he implemented a very strict curfew and harshly punished crimes that had long been forgotten. There were floggings and hangings almost daily in the square, in direct view of the bakery, something Mellie commented on during one of her visits.

Winter turned into spring, and I hadn't seen nor heard anything from Gale at all. Not even about him. I had wondered what was going to happen after the attack in November, but the only thing that came from it, really, was the increased security and constant electrification of the fence. Poachers couldn't go out to hunt and, once again, people were dropping dead in the streets from starvation. Children looked skinnier, mothers looked more gaunt, infant deaths increased and so did the demand for tesserae. There was such an influx of tesserae sign-ups that the district couldn't keep up, and shipments that did arrive were old, mouldy and ruined.

"There's something going on in the other districts," Peeta said to me one day when we were having our own little picnic with the girls in the centre of the Village. "Why else would food be arriving spoiled? They can't keep up with demand anymore."

"No one would be foolish enough to rebel. The Capitol would sooner just bomb the rebelling district again," I told him, referring to the fate of District Thirteen.

"They could always... move underground," Peeta told me, glancing at me out of the side of his eye.

"I guess, but what would be the point? What's the point in anything anymore?" I asked him.

"Fighting for freedom... Fighting for the future generation..." It was my turn to glance at Peeta, who seemed to be holding something back. "Think about it," he said after a moment. "Not a single thing you've done in the last eight years has been about you... it's been about Prim, or Lark and Maevis... even the tributes we lost in the arena."

"Well, that's how it always is, isn't it? We don't fight for ourselves, we fight for our children. It's never been about fighting for the present, not when so many of us might never live to see the future. But our children might, and so will theirs, and maybe someday, they won't know the horrors that we do," I replied, and Peeta's gaze softened as he met mine.

"Exactly," he whispered. Suddenly, I gave thought to my own words. It didn't matter what I did now, I was going to die in the arena, and maybe Peeta would, too, and then our children would have no one to protect them, but I didn't have to sit back and cry while the world burned around me. The fire and smoke would kill me before I could put the flames out, but every little bit counts, doesn't it? I decided then that I wasn't going to bow down to Snow anymore; I was already damned if I did and damned if I didn't, and so was my family. So when Effie arrived a couple of days before the reaping, I told her that Lark and Maevis would be staying behind and that I would not be bringing them to the Capitol.

Saying goodbye to them was the hardest thing I have ever had to do. I thought I would never see them again, and on the morning of the reaping, before Peeta woke up, I went into their room to talk to them. "I want you both to know that... that Mummy loves you more than anything in the world, okay?" I said to my girls, holding them both in my arms tightly. "I need you to be good girls, okay? For Daddy..."

"Where going, Mama?" Lark asked me, looking up at me with her beautiful grey eyes.

"Mummy has to... go away... for a long time... But I'll always be with you. You'll never forget how much your Mummy loves you, will you, mo chaileagan? " I asked my daughters, and Lark shook her head.

"No, Mama," she said, and I smiled down at her and kissed the top of her head, then kissed the top of Maevis's head.

"I love you both so much... Don't ever forget me, and be strong for Daddy. He loves you so much..." I sat with them in silence just for a little bit longer until I started hearing movement come from the other bedroom, meaning that Peeta was awake. "Let's go see Daddy, yeah?"

Our prep teams arrived not long after and when I told them that they wouldn't be prepping Lark and Maevis, they were quite surprised. "But we're under orders!" Octavia exclaimed.

"And I'm choosing to defy them," I replied, somewhat harshly. As expected, my prep team took much longer with me than they did with Peeta, so this gave Peeta his moment to say goodbye to the girls. I was certain he was convinced that this would be his final goodbye to them, but I would ensure that Peeta would return home to them. I came downstairs at a tender moment, between a doting, loving father and his two beautiful daughters, and I felt myself tear up at the scene. This would be the last time I would ever get to see Peeta with our children, and the thought broke my heart. Not wanting them to see me cry, I put on a smile, and then joined my little family on the floor as the four of us held onto each other. Soon, we would only be three, but someday, Peeta would find someone to complete this little family again. I hoped she would love my girls as much as I do, and I hoped that she would make Peeta the happiest man on earth.

The three of us - myself, Peeta and Haymitch - were escorted to the Justice Building by four peacekeepers, all of them armed with loaded guns. The people of the district were corralled into a roped-off area to watch as their victors were sent off to yet another arena, likely to die at the hands of victors from other districts. Onstage, Effie looked solemn as she stood between us, two big glass balls on either side of her, both of them looking empty from a distance, with three names between them. The world had gone silent as I stood on that stage, barely hearing my own name being uttered into the microphone, heartbreak dripping from the voice of the person who said it. My hearing came back as I heard the second name being called. "Haymitch Abernathy," said Effie, and my eyes widened and I let out a gasp, barely getting a chance to register my shock before Peeta's words came tumbling out:

"I volunteer as tribute."

"No!" I cried, clamping my hand over my mouth and watching as Haymitch tried to stop him, but to no avail. Peeta had volunteered, and he was going to go into the arena, same as I was. A small part of me had hoped, although it shames me to admit it, that Haymitch would go into the arena with me to die so that I could come back home to Peeta, but I should have known that Peeta wouldn't allow that to happen. It was clear that Effie was heartbroken for us both as we stood on either side of her, staring out into the crowd of our home district, getting one final glimpse of the only world we had ever known. My eyes fell to Prim and Agnessa, who stood beside Mellie, Caseo, Christos, Aaricia, their toddler son, Barley, and Rye. Prim was holding Lark and Mellie was holding Maevis, and then Prim did something I hadn't expected: she raised her left hand, her middle three fingers erect with her little finger and her thumb crossing her palm - the District Twelve salute. She was soon followed by Agnessa, and then Caseo and Mellie, Christos, Aaricia, Rye, Leevy, Madge, Delly Cartwright, and soon, all of District Twelve was saluting us. Even Lark had her three fingers in the air, and I think then that she had some sort of understanding of exactly what was going to happen to her parents, because her silvery eyes met mine and suddenly, they were so much older than the eyes of a three-year-old. And soon, Peeta and I were raising our hands in the salute, too.

Before this display of rebellion could be carried on further, the peacekeepers that were guarding the stage grabbed us and began to drag us back into the Justice Building. "Wait, wait! Don't we get to say goodbye?" I demanded of the peacekeepers.

"We have direct orders, it's straight to the train for you," said one of them rather angrily.

"No! Wait!" I shouted, then I looked over my shoulder one final time, at my cousin and aunt, at my mother and father-in-law, at my two brothers-in-law and my sister-in-law, and finally, at my two daughters. "Goodbye!" I shouted to them all before they disappeared from my sight. We were then thrust upon the train, and as soon as Effie, Haymitch, Peeta and myself were all aboard, in addition to whatever peacekeepers were required to be on in order to keep us in line, the train began to pull away from the station. Then, I turned on Peeta. "What the hell is wrong with you?" I yelled at him, shoving him away from me by putting my palms on his chest and pushing him. "You had a chance to be safe! You could have been safe! I could have come back to you, you goddamn asshole!"

"I told you, you're not going into that arena without me!" Peeta shouted back, catching himself before he fell.

"I would have been just fine! I'm the one that got us out last time! I could have done it again, and then I could have gone home to you!" I spat back, angry and emotional tears streaming down my cheeks. "We could have both lived..."

"It's too late for that now... I'm going to get you out of the arena and you're going to go home to our daughters and everything is going to be okay," he told me, but that only made me angrier. He moved to pull me into his arms but I stormed away from him, unable to even look at him in that moment. I went to the room that was supposed to be mine and slammed the door shut, wanting more than anything to be left alone.

What had my life come to? It didn't matter what I did, I was going to die anyway, and maybe Peeta would die, too, leaving our daughters with no protection. Whoever the other tributes were... they were likely strong. Johanna Mason would be a definite tribute from District Seven since she, like me, was the only female victor from her district. Chaff Lemell from District Eleven would be a tribute, too, being the only male victor from his district, but the rest could be anyone. There were so many victors from District Two, many of them violent and aggressive, and there were a lot from District One, too. District Five, surprisingly, had quite a few as well, but who knew if they'd get lucky again. Oh, what did it matter? What did anything matter? I had failed, and now my children were going to be left with no one but Prim and Agnessa and Peeta's family to care for them. I suppose that was a lot of people, but not one of them would sacrifice the things that Peeta and I had for our daughters. With Peeta and I gone, Snow would likely reap them. Perhaps this was why he was doing this... He could go back on his end of our bargain if both Peeta and I were dead.

PEETA POV

If Katniss was angry, I was furious. Furious that she didn't have a choice in the matter, she was going into the arena no matter what. Maybe if Lucy had won the Games last year, Katniss wouldn't be going into the arena, and then we'd be safe and able to raise our family together. Oh, what was I thinking? Selfish thoughts, that's for damn sure. I wanted so badly for Katniss and I to live a relatively normal life together with our family, but I couldn't ask others to sacrifice themselves for us, hence why I volunteered when Haymitch's name was called.

When Katniss stormed off to be alone, I sought out Haymitch, who was in his own room nursing a bottle of liquor. He looked up at me when I entered his room, then reached into his pocket and pulled out his microphone blocker, pressing the button. "The trains have their own built-in blockers, thanks to District Three's and Six's efforts when they designed these things, but it can't hurt to be safe," he explained, and then he let out a sigh. "I'm sorry, kid."

"For what?" I asked him.

"That this is happenin'. That you and the girl are bein' thrown back into this shit," Haymitch replied.

"It doesn't matter, does it? Not with the plan."

"Lot of things can go wrong in three days, boy."

"Well, they won't. I'll make sure of it. That's why I'm in the arena and you aren't." A moment of silence passed between us. "Who else is in?"

"The Games? Or in on the plan?"

"Both, I guess."

"On our side, Beetee and Wiress are goin' in for Three, Finnick and Mags are goin' in for Four, Lily and John for Six, Johanna and Blithe for Seven, not that they had any choice bein' the only victors from Seven, and Chaff and Seeder for Eleven."

"I thought Five was in on it, too?"

"Just Odeon Avisdee, but we need him on the outside, so he ain't goin' into the arena."

"Why's Mags going in? Aren't there plenty of other female victors from District Four?"

"It's for the idea of it. Imagine puttin' an old, frail woman with no chance of winnin' the Games back into the arena sixty-seven years after she won her Games. The woman's older than Games themselves."

"Is she?" Haymitch nodded.

"Besides Snow himself, she's the only person I know still alive who was born before the Games started, durin' the Dark Days. Don't think she remembers much, though. She's eighty-three years old." He took a sip from his flask. "Anyway, the plan's bein' set in motion. Stay alive, keep the girl alive, and don't let her forget who the real enemy is." I nodded, and after a few more words, I left Haymitch's room to sit in one of the cars of the train.

A plan for rebellion was underway. Our plan was to destroy the arena and get whatever pro-rebellion victors who were still alive out and to District Thirteen, where a rebellion could really be planned and executed. Alpha was getting antsy for an end to Snow's regime, and she made a claim that she hated him more than anyone alive, but I'd have to disagree. Snow didn't make her sleep with people who quite literally bought their way into victors' beds, he didn't use her children as a bargaining chip to keep her in line, and he didn't throw her into two arenas. If this plan worked - which it would, as I wouldn't accept failure - then both Katniss and I should be getting out of the arena together. I contemplated if I should tell her or not, but at this point, things were very complicated. If she knew, would she be angry? Would she refuse to comply? Haymitch seemed to think her too emotional to handle the news, and I knew otherwise, but I ultimately decided to just keep it a secret and I'd face the consequences later.

After a while, I got up and went to Katniss's room, wondering if I should knock on the door, but ultimately deciding to simply try the doorknob. It opened, so I quietly pushed the door open and poked my head into the now darkened room. Katniss was lying on the bed, her back to me, so I slipped in and silently made my way over to the bed, wondering if I should speak to her or just crawl in beside her. I crawled onto the bed and curled myself up against her, holding her back tightly against my chest and burying my lips in her hair; she didn't move, but I knew she was awake. "I don't want to fight anymore," I whispered to her quietly. "It's too late to change anything now... We don't have a lot of time together, and I don't want to spend a single second of it with us upset with each other."

"You shouldn't be upset with me at all," she said to me, her voice hoarse from crying.

"I should be because you plan on dying for me in that arena, which isn't happening," I reminded her. "But nevermind that right now... I just want to hold you, Katniss."

"I can't even comprehend the thought of losing you," she told me. "I can't live without you, Peeta. I just can't. I mean physically, sure, but I don't want to. If you don't leave that arena... neither will I."

"Don't you dare even think about doing anything if I die."

"You can't stop me if you're dead."

"Then I guess I'll have to keep myself alive until the very end."

"Until you leave the arena."

"I don't want to talk about this." I sat myself up and shifted her onto her back, silencing her with a kiss on her lips. At first, she wanted to protest, but then she joined me in the kiss, parting her lips and allowing my tongue access to her mouth. Her hand snaked its way up into my hair and grasped at my honey golden curls, as if she just couldn't get enough, and her other hand gripped my shoulder very tightly. Suddenly, I broke the kiss and rested my forehead against hers, breathing in her scent of lavender and pine. "I love you much..."

"I love you, too... That's why I can't-" I quickly silenced her with another kiss. I refused to talk about this anymore, not tonight. For now, all I wanted was to show her how much I loved her in the way that only I could, that only I was allowed and wanted by her. Beneath me, I could feel her parting her legs and I could already feel the heat of her core between the four layers of clothing between us, and that only made my pants tighter. My fingers found their way to the hem of her shirt and pushed it up just a little to expose the skin of her stomach and she finished the job for me by breaking our kiss momentarily to pull her shirt off over her head, resuming the kiss and starting to unbutton my shirt to slide off my shoulders. Now all that lay between our two bare chests was her bra, which I skillfully unclasped, sliding it off of her shoulders and tossing the offending garment aside. My lips then moved to her neck while her hands searched my chest, tangling her fingers in the fair hairs that grew on my chest before they moved back up to the hair on my head. My lips made a trail from her neck down to her chest, and then they found the puckering nipple of her left breast and wrapped around it. "Oh, Peeta..." she moaned, egging me on, and my tongue flicked out over it.

She moaned willingly, arching her back and pressing her breast into my mouth, begging for more. I obliged, licking and sucking until she tugged on my hair demanding equal treatment for her other breast. When I finished lavishing her breasts, I continued my trail of kisses down her stomach until I ran into the waist of her pants, undoing the button and sliding them down her legs. When my eyes took note of the wet spot on her underwear that told of her arousal, I glanced up at her and smirked, waiting for her to beg me to go on. "What are you waiting for?" she asked me, now frustrated that I had stopped.

"Permission," I told her, running a finger up her folds through the fabric, giving her little bean a gentle flick, and she groaned.

" Take them off! " she hissed at me, and I chuckled.

"Happily," I replied, and I hooked my thumbs in the waistband of her underwear and tugged them down, revealing her most intimate spot to me. "You are positively dripping ."

"Do something about it, then, won't you?" she demanded.

"That's not a very romantic way to speak to your lover," I replied, teasing her again by running a finger up her folds.

"Mmm... Don't tease me, Peeta. Not tonight, please," she asked me, her time serious.

"Very well, we've got plenty of time for that." I gave her a smile, which she returned as she reached down to brush a stand of hair out of my eyes, and then I lowered my mouth to her most intimate spot and lavished her. She writhed and moaned beneath me, her hands gripping my hair tightly and tugging as she moaned my name over and over again, neither of us caring how loud we were being.

"Peeta... Peeta... I'm gonna... Peeta! " she cried out, letting her release take over her and feeling her fluids coat the lower part of my face. While she rode out this release, I continued to lick and suck and tease her with my tongue until she relaxed into a boneless mass on the bed, and then I crawled back up to kiss her on her mouth.

"You taste delicious," I told her. "I'm gonna miss that..."

"I thought you didn't want to talk like that," she asked me.

"I don't, but I still think you taste incredible." I kissed her again to allow her to taste herself on me.

"Peeta," she whispered after a moment. "I need you... Will you take me?"

"Of course I will," I whispered back. I sat up to unbutton my own pants, pulling them and my boxers down in one single tug to free myself from their confines. I then climbed back on top of my wife and lined myself up at her entrance, meeting her eyes, and then began to push into her. Her face scrunched up and her fingers gripped my shoulders as I sheathed myself inside of her, and after giving her a moment to adjust, I began to rock my hips back and forth. She let out a groan, matched by my own throaty moan as I buried my face in her neck, my lips sucking and nipping at her throat.

"Peeta..." Katniss moaned my name, her hands gripping my hair as we moved together. "Oh, God, Peeta, I love you..."

"I love you, baby," I whispered back to her. I could feel my own release building, but I needed her to come with me, so with one of my hands, I reached down to rub tiny circles on her little bean and then together, wrapped up in each other's arms coated in sweat and sex, we came together uttering each other's names into the night. I felt her hand brush the hairs off of my sticky, sweat-covered forehead as I laid my head on her chest, listening to her heartbeat.

"I want to do this all night, every night until the Games," Katniss muttered to me, and I couldn't hide my satisfied chuckle.

"We've got to sleep at some point," I replied cheekily.

"Then we can make love until we fall asleep," she replied, holding me against her chest. I certainly wasn't opposed to that at all, so I initiated round two.

The following morning, with Effie refusing to meet our eyes, we watched the recap of the reaping, Katniss nestled comfortably on my lap with my arms around her. The tributes who were reaped for District One were Glitter Pash, 73rd Games, and Aristotle Archer, 63rd Games, but Gloss, 61st Games, and Cashmere Horne, 65th Games, 'gallantly' volunteered in their place, raising their proud fists high in victory as if it was an honour to die for the entertainment of rich people who would never see them as their equals.

The reaped District Two tributes were Nova Teller, who by now was in her sixties and had won the 36th Games, and Lenerok Kifflin, 48th Games, but their status as tributes was usurped by Brutus Athens, 52nd Games, and Enobaria Heller, 62nd Games. Enobaria had shaved her teeth to look like sharks' teeth so she could 'rip people's throats out', according to Haymitch. I was not looking forward to facing her in the arena, even though I knew that, with our plan, she wouldn't stand a chance.

The District Three tributes were Beetee Latier, 40th Games, and Wiress Maslow, victor of the 46th Games and the only female tribute from Three - they were the masterminds behind the idea of blowing up the arena.

The District Four tributes were, Finnick Odair, of course, and originally, Annie Cresta, 70th Games, but their mentor, Mags Flanagan, 11th Games, silently raised her hand to volunteer in place of Annie, whom she knew could not mentally handle another Games, in addition to the image. Finnick, on the other hand, was our ally, but Katniss didn't know this and simply thought he was nothing but a peacock.

The District Five tributes were Eddie Barker, 43rd Games, and originally, Delectra Altra, but Imogene Walker, 67th Games, volunteered in Delectra's place.

The District Six tributes were Lily Taupe, 58th Games, and John Sellers, 69th Games. Both had won their Games by hiding out in the arena and waiting for everyone else to die, and both were absolutely fried on morphing, but, or so I've heard, both were excellent painters. I'd had a couple of conversations with Lily about painting, and I didn't like that everyone simply referred to them as 'the morphlings' - they were people, too, they were just addicted to morphling.

The District Seven tributes were the only two surviving tribes from District Seven, Blight Duluth, 51st Games, and Johanna Mason, 71st Games. They, too, were my allies and would help us carry out the plan to blow up the arena and escape.

The District Eight tributes were Woof Darwin, 28th Games and only male victor of the Games from District Eight, and Cecelia Ember, 60th Games. It was sad to watch her say goodbye to her children, and a small part of me was jealous that she got to peacefully say goodbye without being rushed onto the train. It was almost like they just couldn't wait to get us out of District Twelve.

The District Nine tributes were Benedict Albion, 56th Games, and Lalla Addison, 42nd Games. District Nine, who was relatively left alone by the Capitol, could not be convinced to join the rebellion, but they agreed to keep their silence so long as we left them alone.

The District Ten tributes were, originally, Rufus Ripley, 44th Games, but Rodney Fuller, 72nd Games, volunteered for his mentor. The female tribute was the only female tribute from District Ten, Shelley Dunn, 66th Games - like Katniss and Johanna, she didn't have a choice in the matter.

The District Eleven tributes were Chaff Lemell, 45th Games, and originally, Cytherea Lewes, 54th Games, but Cytherea's mentor, Seeder Palmer, 33rd Games, volunteered in her place.

And then there was us, Katniss and myself, victors of the 74th Hunger Games. The district salute was not broadcast, and neither was us being rushed into the train. In fact, the broadcast cut out rather abruptly, suggesting that they were in a hurry for something, but there wasn't time to think about that. I had to come up with a fake strategy for Katniss to throw her off, and I also had to think of how the hell I was going to explain myself when she inevitably found out about all of this. It would be quite obvious that a rebellion was happening when Katniss was pulled from the arena, and knowing her, she was going to be pissed.

While we were destroying the arena, a team from Thirteen made up of Gamma, Epsilon, Zeta, Eta and Gale would make their way to Twelve and at least evacuate mine and Katniss's families, and our two daughters. Yes, Gale did make it to Thirteen; I knew this months ago, but of course, I couldn't tell Katniss. Honestly, after what he did, I didn't want to tell her. I didn't want to help him at all, but I love Katniss more than my pride, and once we were safe in Thirteen, I'd give him what he had coming to him, consequences be damned. But I still had at least another week before I could make that happen.

Yes, everything was falling into place. The plan was made, so now all we had to do was execute it.

A/N: Will the plans for the escape come to fruition? Why were Katniss and Peeta rushed out of District Twelve so quickly?

Please review!