A/N: Sorry about the ridiculous wait I put you through. My last months of pregnancy and first six months of my daughter's life were a rollercoaster to put it mildly, especially with two more kids in tow. I'll try to be more consistent soon, but I can't make any promises until my life evens out a bit.

Song Suggestion: James Arthur—"Wrecking Ball" (Miley Cyrus cover)

Smashing China

"You're a magician," Gale called out to Cinna and Barrina, his stylist, as their chariot pulled to a stop. Gale vaulted out of his seat, patting both of them on the back.

Brutus was waiting for them. He gave them one grin before returning to a serious expression.

"You did good, kids. Just remember next time to make it look more convinc—"

"Why didn't you tell me," she interrupted him, "You've been making secret plans behind my back and have left me out of them. If you want it to look more convincing, it might help if I'm not so surprised when it happens."

Brutus had the decency to look a little cowed.

"You wouldn't have gone along with it."

"You don't know that."

Brutus didn't bother with answering her, and it made her stop and think. Would she have gone along with it? Probably. Maybe. But now it didn't matter. They made the choice without her, and she had no choice but to travel its road. The angle for the games was set. Again, Prim was reminded of Katniss. Was she angry too, or did Peeta tell her ahead of time?

Or did she really care for him?

"Where the fuck is she?"

Prim heart skipped a beat at the voice.

Cato.

Brutus grabbed her upper arm in a vice-like grip and gave her a grave expression. His eyes trained on Gale, who frowned.

"We need to get her out of here?"

"What? Why?" Prim attempted to regain control of her arm.

It was no use. They began tugging her away from the small crowd of tributes. Brutus pushed aside two people from District 4. Thick swabs of seaweed covered the female, and only a small amount covered the male. Apparently, this was the year for little clothing.

"Hey!" Both said at once, as Brutus barreled past them. Prim tried to give an apologetic shrug.

"If I have to find her, I'll kill someone!" Cato roared over the crowd, "I swear to fucking God, if someone doesn't bring her to me, I'm going to rip out throats. Fuck the games."

Prim knew this temper well. She knew it would rise and burst. She also knew if she did not stop and talk him down, his monsters would accumulate. It would do nothing except cause harm.

Prim pressed her feet into the concrete, intending to slow Brutus down. Instead she stumbled. Brutus did not allow her an inch of time or space for her to recover. It was only by luck she didn't fall forward for a personal meeting with the floor.

"Let me go, Brutus," Prim tried to reason, "I need to explain."

"You don't need to explain anything."

In front of them an elevator materialized behind the fluctuating forms of people. Brutus stopped and pressed a button several times, as if it would make it magically come down faster.

"These damn things take forever."

"You don't understand—"

"I understand perfectly fine. But, again, there is no seeing him."

Brutus shoved the button again with a gruff grunt.

"Prim!"

Her head snapped up. Cato stared back. He stood in the middle of the crowd. Many of the people stopped and looked at the scene he caused. It didn't matter. All she could see was him. The edges around him faded as her eyes focused on the single point.

"Cato," she whispered back.

His eyes softened a fraction, as if seeing an ocean in a desert. Blood trailed off him, dripped from his fair hair. She focused on his eyes, the sky blue the only thing resembling the man she knew.

Then his eyes went hard again. It confused her, until she remembered: the kiss. He saw the kiss. It wasn't like that, she wanted to shout. It didn't mean anything. Instead she stared back at him her mouth moving as if speaking, but nothing came out.

He was only a throwing distance when the elevator opened and Brutus shoved her in, slamming her around. Her back hit the glass enclosure. She flung herself forward again, trying to jump back into the crowd.

It made no sense to her fight or flight reflex. Here was a dangerous man running after her, and all she wanted to do was put herself into potential danger, hurl herself at the predator.

"Let me out."

Brutus did not bother to answer, nor did he get out of her way. Cato raced forward, as she door beeped and began sliding together.

"No," Cato said again.

The door closed inches from his outreached hand.

She curled her arms around her middle and tried to stem the pain... or was it anger. The feelings wrapped around into knots until she no longer understood them. Eventually, she spoke.

"Why?" She asked, "Why can't I just speak to him?"

Brutus turned so he didn't have to see her, rubbing the back of his neck.

"God girl, you didn't fall for him, did you?"

He twisted his head just enough to see her expression. After studying it for a moment, he seemed to find his answer. He answered with a sigh, bowing his head to his chest and placing his hand on one door.

"I'm not sure how the bastard managed to steal a heart so sweet, but I swore to your mother that she'd get to hold you again. I'm not one for making promises, and I'm not one for keeping them. But this one- "

"What does that have to do with Cato?"

"He'll be the death of you, little girl, an early grave." He sighed again, and took in a deep, rumbling breath, "You can't be with him. Not now. Not tomorrow. Especially not in the games. Not if you want to survive."

Somewhere in the back of her mind, the part that wasn't muddled with emotions, she understood this cold logic, accepted it as the rule of this unfair, cruel land.

The people of Panem had spoken: they no longer want the lion and the lamb together. And if they were seen together, they would lose all support from the capitol, the districts, and their sponsors.

Prim clenched her fists and bit her lips.

The rest of the elevator ride the only sound was the slow beeping as they passed all the floors until they got to District 12.

Prim walked off, not bothering to notice her surroundings. She was numb to elegance. It did not shock her system or awe her anymore. She could chunk it all out the window for all she cared. She smiled at the thought of smashing china, the thought of breaking something irreparably appealed to her. Watch it as it shattered against something harder and more resilient.

"Come, girl, let's eat. Gale is on his way up."

Prim saw the mounds of food. At one point in her life, she dreamed of roasted ham, potatoes dripping with butter, lamb stew. Now all she wanted was the dull ache of starvation again, the incessant sensation of survival nipping at the back of the ribs. She needed something else besides Cato to remind her of danger, of survival. Something to remind her worms would always be hungry for her skin.

Instead of eating, she turned and walked to her room, slamming the door behind her.

Brutus said she couldn't be with Cato.

Gale insisted she be brave.

But nobody said Prim couldn't be angry.

Later that Night

Prim gasped awake just in time to hear the slight thunk. It sounded like shoes on pavement, a sound relegated to human movement. She strained her ears to her again, glancing around her room in apprehension.

It took her a moment to clear her head, curl the sheets up to her chest, and glance at her curtains. They did not billow, which meant that no one was in her room.

For a crazed second, she imagined it to be an assassin. But she quickly dismissed the idea. Who would want to kill her?

President Snow, of course. But assassination didn't seem his style, especially since he already had her trapped in a gilded cage. What would be the point? Besides him, no one hated her enough, or had motivation enough…

Cato.

A clock shaped like a bird chirped twelve times outside her door. Gathering her courage, she slipped her feet out of the bed and stood, feet nestling into thick carpet. Her fear dwindled until it was small enough to fit inside a compartment in her heart.

She pushed the curtains aside to find Cato glaring back at her. It disconcerted her for a second, for the closeness, and for the hatred piercing her.

"How did you get up here?"

It was a good question. There were ten floors between them. Besides, after an incident where one tribute drugged another before the games, the Gamemakers set precautions to prevent it. Getting up here must not have been an easy feat.

"Let me in."

"No." Prim answered swiftly. Her safety and her sanity required her to keep a thick glass wall between them.

"Why did you do it?" He asked.

"Do what?"

Cato shook, the muscles in his arms trembling. He placed an arm up, putting his palm against the glass. Prim resisted the desire to raise her hand and place it in the shadow of his own.

"You allowed his filthy rat lips to touch you, after all that we had, after all we've been through…You shared my bed, my life, my daughter called you mother, and you just want to throw it away. After—"

"After you lied to me?" Prim quipped back. The anger about his deception became mild after reflection, but the confusion remained, "You told me Gale was dead. I'm not answering anything until you give your own explanation first."

He hesitated. She could see it in the loosening of his jaw. She had surprised him with the turnaround in the conversation.

"Because… because…" he looked up for a moment, "Because the second you left me, you went back into his arms, that's why. He stole-."

"I'm not a game, Cato. No one wins me, and no one can steal me" Prim said, "You earn me. You prove to me that you're worth believing, and I choose you. Otherwise, you mistake force for love. So far you've done an awful job of showing yourself to be trustworthy."

Her speech took a little fight out of the lion.

"Did it mean anything to you?" He asked. "Did you ever love me, or even begin to love me?"

Prim paused. She was not ready for this moment, or the implications of her actions. Why couldn't he stay angry? She knew how to deal with that from him, not this vulnerability. Her heart demanded she open the sliding glass door and forget everything bad between them, let him slid beneath her sheets and inside her, let him remind her of everything she ached for. But her mind reminded her of Brutus' warning. If there was danger for her, there would be danger for Cato as well if they continued with their relationship. She could never forgive herself if her actions resulted in his death.

Wounds that lingered only caused infection. She needed to sever their bond with a quick thrust of a knife, brutal and deep. She would have to make him hate her, or else she'd cave to his demands eventually. Time would send her back in his arms, and there would be no way to hide it from her face when she looked at him, and there would be nothing stopping her from seeking him out in the games, which would result in a quick death for both of them.

Do it, she told herself, break his love for you.

There was no other way but to be cruel.

"The moment I saw Gale again, I forgot all about you. I've loved him my entire life. You're just a side note, forgotten in time. Something I'd rather forget sooner than later."

It took several moments for him to react. In those moments, his face went slack with shock. He stepped back away from the glass as if it sliced him. His mouth opened and closed, a fish gasping on land, before he managed to spit out two words:

"Fucking whore."

"Is that all you have to say because I'm sleepy, and I have a lot to do tomorrow."

He turned to leave, but decided not to. Walking close to the glass, he pressed his face to it. Breath created a small fog over his mouth.

"This isn't over, little bird. Love or force, it does not matter." After a pause where he seemed to be struggling with himself, "The games are coming. In the end, it's me or him. Either way he'll die. I'll make sure of that… It's your choice if you want to join—"

She shut the blinds on him, not allowing anymore of the conversation, leaning against the wall, so he wouldn't see her grief.

An Hour Later

Prim stood in that position for an entire hour before she calmed herself to go back to bed.

Sliding under the sheets, she buried her head into the pillow, placing her hands underneath it. She pressed it into her mouth and gave a scream. She wished she did not have to muffle it.

Eventually, she ran out of screams. Like her tears, and like her fear, her anger had a limit. It washed over and continued like a tsunami, crashing and sucking everything back, leaving the land bare and the water a collection of broken pieces.

She would have to put herself back together in time, but not tonight.

She placed her pillow back unto the bed. Something made a crinkle sound behind it.

"Huh?"

Prim reached under and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper no bigger than her finger.

She unfolded it. The paper was thick and expensive.

On it was written four words in black spiraling letters inside of a circle.

We are watching you.