Song Suggestion: Sick Puppies- "All the Same"
Thank You: Mistress-Cinder, 3vlee, Figsy, kitsune103, Cat Beats, HopelesslyEmotional, jkteen22, Alexxis T. Swan, and Drew Demeter!
The Circle
Prim stood up and placed her hand on her back, close to her spine. A shooting pain traveled from her hip down her leg. The doctor said it was sciatica pain, from carrying the weight of two babies.
"Are we done yet?" Prim asked. Her hand left her back and caressed her distended stomach, so large she lost the ability to see her toes weeks ago. Prim felt like an alien invaded her body. She waddled everywhere she went, and the babies used her internal organs as punching bags.
Prim was done, absolutely done, with being pregnant. The doctor said he believed her to be 37 weeks, give or take, an impressive time for carrying twins. Any day now, he told her, but the days dragged, and Prim was beginning to think she'd always be this way.
"We just need a few more shots," Jeremy, the propaganda director said, looking into a camera lens.
"Make it quick," Brutus said from the back. He sat in a chair, legs spread, with a look of abject boredom on his face.
Her mother asked him to look after Prim while she worked in the hospital, and Brutus took the request seriously, harassing anyone who he thought overworked her. If someone even asked her to stand, he'd growl at them, using his bulk and reputation to intimidate.
"It still looks unnatural. You need to loosen up, and just read the cue cards."
Prim got into position again. The camera made sure to focus on her face. District 13 made the decision to hide her pregnancy from Panem.
"It would be viewed as a weakness," Coin said while trying to convince her to get an abortion at the beginning of her stay. It was the first, and only thing so far, she held firm on. Everything else she capitulated to, including being their Mockingjay mouth piece.
This scene had played out many times before. The director asked Prim to read the cue cards, and then he'd complain she was being wooden and unauthentic, no matter her inflection or tone. Prim wanted to say that it was less her and more the script.
"Greetings Panem," Prim began. "It's time to rise up and join me to stamp out our oppressors. Snow believes he-"
"Cut!" The director screamed in frustration. "You're hopeless. Gale managed a rousing speech. What's the problem?"
"I just don't think I believe what I'm reading." Prim held up the cards and pointed to the sentences talking about decimating the city. "It's just not me. I can't make it me."
The director rubbed his temples.
"Well, you're going to have to make it you because the hackers are airing this tonight, and Panem needs to see you. You've been absent from the last two, and it's been noticed."
A loud commotion sounded outside. A carrier had landed outside, and the soldiers started unloading the dead and injured. The high-pitched screams and moans traveled along the halls. Without thinking, Prim dropped her cue cards and walked out the door.
"Come back," Jeremy yelled.
"You don't need to be healing in your condition," Brutus ground out.
She ignored them both. She felt useless as the Mockingjay—a pretty, talking figure head. But in the hospital ward, Prim felt important as she set bones and stitched wounds, comforting the dying.
"Shit," Jeremey said and then yelled back at his crew. "I guess just pick up your cameras. We might as well follow her."
Five Minutes Later
Jeremy followed her to the hospital ward. Brutus followed close behind. He refused to let her out of his sight so close to her due date.
Prim jumped right in. Most of the doctors knew her skill and allowed her to help. Prim spent much of her time triaging. The camera focused on her the whole time, and for once, Prim didn't feel uncomfortable in the spotlight.
They entered a room at the end of the day. A soldier, with a head wrapping, and his leg propped, sat up to greet them. He didn't look much older than her. A pin on his shirt said he was from District 11, one of the first districts to overthrow their peacekeepers and join their cause. And he looked in tremendous pain.
"The Mockingjay," the soldier gasped. He had dark skin with startling blue eyes. His hair hung in dreadlocks that he pushed away from his eyes to see her better.
Prim went and grabbed his hand, ignoring the cameras.
"How are you holding up?" It was the first thing she spoke today that felt like truth.
"The doctor said I should be up in about six weeks, ready to fight again."
"That's wonderful news."
The soldier didn't seem to think so, his mouth set in thin lines. Prim didn't blame him. The fighting was fierce, and Snow took no mercy. Each district had been a slow crawl to obtain for the cause, overthrowing the structure from within. Gale wanted to slaughter all the peacekeepers and capitol sympathizers, but Prim defied him and gave a speech about mercy for people who rose the white flag to fight for the right side. Gale was pissed at her, but it worked better than his plan for bloodshed. After the speech, three districts were obtained in two weeks. Their peacekeepers dropped their guns in favor of their lives, and many of them joined the ranks of their army.
Prim eyed the soldier, knowing at this moment he needed reassurance, not for his body but for the cause.
"It will be worth it soon."
"Will it? I lost my best friend. He was blown up in front of me."
Prim stilled, trying to convince herself as well as him.
"There are many times in life that we must keep fighting, despite the pain, despite the sacrifice, because the cost of losing would be too great."
Prim squeezed his hand.
"What if I've forgotten why I'm fighting? Because my life was better before this."
His sentiment was a cancer in the ranks, the slow grind of war, chipping away fragments of themselves.
"You'll remember why you fight when you look into your mother's face, lined with years of fear," Prim said. "You'll remember then that we fight for the day we are unafraid of our children turning twelve. We fight for the parents who bury their twelve-year-old, just a baby, unable to survive trained careers. We fight because death feels more pleasant than chains."
The room went silent, until Jeremy interrupted her.
"That was fucking fantastic. Just the shot I needed."
Two Days Later
Prim walked into the meeting by mistake, still not used to the complex maze of the compound. She took a wrong turn, went down some hallways, and ended at large double doors. She opened them, thinking they led to the mess hall. Instead, when she opened the door, she came face to face with an irate looking Gale. He stood in front of a circular table. Behind him a map was pinned to the wall of Panem. Each of the districts were outlined in blue. District 1 and 2, the only districts not working with district 13, were outlined yellow. The capitol was outlined in red.
Coin sat beside Gale, her silver hair cut in a severe bob under her chin. The rest of the table consisted of top officials and generals from each district. When Prim entered, everybody turned to stare at her, their faces cold and hard. Gale, the only one standing, as if she caught him mid-shout, clenched his fist when he saw her.
Prim almost walked back out. Coin made it clear she was not a leader, and Prim had no desire to be one in the first place. "You are the inspiration," Coin told her when they first met. "You are not qualified to do anything else."
"What are you doing here?" Coin asked.
"Nothing… I'll just—I'll just leave."
District 13's leader sat with mouth pinched, studying her, as if coming to a decision.
"It wasn't intended," Coin brushed a hand in the hair, "but this involves you. Sit down, Mockingjay. We have some things we need to discuss."
Coin had a way of looking at people like Snow did as if seeing through them and at them. Prim just hadn't decided yet whether she trusted her or not.
"I won't allow it," Gale said.
"It's the only demand they've given."
"I said—"
"It seems you've forgotten your place, Mr. Hawethorn. I allow you in these meetings out of curtesy only."
Gale's mouth snapped shut. He seemed to waver a moment before deciding to sit, but he continued to glare. Whatever they wanted to discuss was serious.
Prim walked to one of only two empty seats. Sitting became a production. She had to scoot out the chair a good way to even fit, and her stomach still touched the table. She almost sighed with relief. Her feet were swollen and her sciatica pain nearly unbearable.
"You have a choice to make," Coin began. "The only districts we have yet to convince to join the rebellion are District 1 and 2. District 1 has overthrown their peacekeepers, but we believe they are making deals with the Capitol. It will be difficult to sway them." Coin's eyes sharpened into points, once again reminding her of Snow. "However, we cannot go further without District 2. They've become a powerhouse, and their involvement would tip the scales. Not to mention, they have in their possession blueprints of the Capitol. They are essential to our final assault. The problem is District 2 has denied every term we have handed them. We are at their front doors, and they refuse to let us in."
"How does this involve me?" Prim asked.
Across the table, Gale bit his bottom lip. He shook with anger.
"You can say no, Prim."
Coin threw him a warning look.
Their relationship was still strained, no longer easy like it used to be. She did not forgive him yet. In fact, they never spoke about the games or what happened in them, as if it didn't exist. District 13 wanted them to get along. "The districts love Gale, almost more than you. He represents the underdog to them, one of them, so you must present a united front," Coin warned her the first time she saw her. Prim acted the part in front of cameras, holding hands and making speeches, but it didn't mean she had to make it real.
For his part, Gale was trying to do everything possible to sway her opinion, even going so far as trying to smuggle her above ground for a little hunting, like they used to do everyday for years. It hurt to refuse him, to hate him, and every kind gesture made a little of the ice in her heart chip away. It was too hard to keep up the negative feeling.
"District 2 is now under control from the terrorist organization, the Circle." Coin continued. "I believe you are acquainted with them."
"Only vague details."
"Its roots began in their district's lower class. The workers who mined the stone quarries grew frustrated with the gap between the poor and the wealthy, and their anger turned to violence. Until recently, it did not involve any of the upper classes. Though our spies have informed us that the Carthage family is now involved, as well as most other prominent families."
"How long have they been a part of it?"
Prim was intensely curious. Did he decide to join before he kidnapped her or was it a recent thing? How long did he plan the escape from the games? There were so many questions left, and only one man could answer them.
"We do not know much else. They've refused contact for months, but yesterday they agreed out of the blue to discuss terms as long as we met one demand."
"And what's that?"
Prim's heart began to speed up.
"The Mockingjay must come to the meeting."
"Why would they want to speak with me?"
"Their leader requested it." Coin must have seen her panicked expression. "There will be guards with you at all times, and I managed to secure Gale at your side in attendance, along with me and a few generals. They would not dare attack, not when we could obliterate them if necessary."
"But what do they want?"
"They did not divulge anything else, only that you must be there, or they would not meet with us."
Quintus wanted to see her, but Prim did not want to see him. She might lunge across the table and scrape his face off with her fingernails. The image of violence in her head, and the sharp burst of pleasure that came with it, surprised her. The monster came easier now, filtering in and out, though Prim made sure to muzzle it.
She could deny them this request, but Coin was right, it was such a small action for such a large gain.
"I'll do it."
Three Days Later
The plane touched down on District 2's soil, lurching her forward. Her belly pressed against the belts restraining her, and she groaned in discomfort. The entire flight was an exercise in agony, her belly an overripe watermelon ready to burst. She woke up that morning with a lower back ache that refused to go away no matter the position she twisted into and every so often there was intense pressure and tightening. Prim feared she might be in the beginning stages of labor, but she had been fooled before.
Her mother did not want her to make the journey. "It's cutting it too close. What happens if you give birth there? No, if you must go, I'm coming with you."
Coin attempted to stop her, but Mrs. Everdeen awoke from her depression with a vengeance, surprising everyone with the ferocity, including Brutus.
"If she's going, then I'm going," the boulder of a man said. "Someone needs to keep the stupid people in line."
Prim did not want him to. He was considered a traitor to his district now. They might use this as an opportunity to retaliate, but he did not budge, as he did with most things when he made up his mind.
"Ah, I can already smell the mountains," Brutus said, standing and stretching his legs from the long journey, "It's good to be home, no matter the reason."
The hydraulics in the boarding ramp groaned as it lowered until it touched against the ground. The world that met them was blanketed by snow. An eagle soared in the distance, circling down to its prey. Little flurries of powder danced in the air.
Circle soldiers stood outside the landing of the ramp, their weapons tucked into the belt loops in an unthreatening manner. They wore solid black, in contrast to the Capitol's prevalent use of white. They looked organized and professional, a real threat. Prim thought she recognized a few from the days in the training room with Gabatha but did not know any of their names.
"We will need you to give up your weapons and follow us."
"Give up my weapons?" Brutus growled. "And if I refuse, will you take them?"
"We are ordered to—"
"I'd like to see a welp like you try. I know you, boy. Branson, correct? Made it to level eight. Deadly with a short sword?"
The boy, or more a man, gulped and nodded. He couldn't shake years of seeing Brutus as a living god.
"Well if you try, I'll take your own short sword, the one you think you're so good with, and I'll stick it through your—"
"Brutus," Prim said, "Let's save the fight for the real one."
Brutus straightened and crossed his arms on his chest. The scars on his face folded into each other. He did not bend down and give up his weapons like the other soldiers with them, and when Brutus walked forward with thundering steps, Branson did not stop him or try and take them from him. Respect was a hard habit to kill.
"Stay here," he said to her mother over his shoulder. "It shouldn't take too long."
Prim waddled out of the District 13 ship and into the sharp, thin air of District 2. The central intelligence of the district loomed right before them, a giant mountain filled with tunnels and reinforced to resist bombing attacks. Beside it sat the Boys and Girls Club of Excellent Endeavors, where she had spent many hours of her life.
The sight bombarded her with memories: a brush of Cato's hand on her cheek, Coral's vibrant curls bouncing along the curving hallways. It had been six months since she'd seen him, even longer since she had been in this district, and it still felt like home.
Her mind didn't linger on Coral too long, still too painful to think about. She hoped the little girl was safe and loved. She hoped Persephone stepped up into the role of motherhood. She hoped Snow didn't take his vengeance out on Cato's daughter, the little girl who called her mommy.
She usually blocked thoughts of her. There was no news and no way to obtain it. The thought made her want to lean over and curl into herself.
Thoughts of seeing Cato made her want to do the same. Butterflies jumped in her stomach, and she wished to get a glimpse of him—a single glance would suffice. There was no guarantee that he'd be there. Quintus wanted to meet with her; there was no promise of anyone else.
Besides, there was a part of Prim that dreaded the encounter. How would she explain her agreement with Gale after everything that happened? He must have seen the propaganda they produced, showing them as friends, almost alluding to a couple, hand in hand, promising rebellion as a united front. How could she explain to Cato that it was all a lie, an illusion?
Prim brushed her stomach, a reminder of the link between them. It was the only thing that showed their love was real.
They arrived at the entrance to the command center. She saw plans of it before coming. Inside was a giant labyrinth of tunnels and rooms, reminding her of District 13. It was the Capitol's military command, but when the Circle took control, all the Capitol hovercrafts and weapons inside became the property of the terrorist organization, making District 2 a viable threat.
Coin downplayed the importance of this meeting. The result would equal success or failure for the whole rebellion. Their resources were quickly diminishing, and without the blueprint of the capitol, which was currently residing in the bowels of the labyrinth of the command center, they would not succeed against Snow.
As they entered the entrance of the mountain command center, Prim couldn't shake the feeling of being watched.
Fifteen Minutes Later
They went deep into the mountain, the tunnel almost claustrophobic as it descended. The soldier led them to a pair of metal double doors.
"Our leader requests that you leave your weapons outside, if you haven't relinquished them already, or else he will consider it a direct attack and all terms of peace forfeit."
"How do we know that he doesn't have his own?" Prim asked. She placed her hand on her belly, feeling it tighten under her touch. She tried to breathe through her cramps, but it was difficult. They started in her lower back, like a knife stabbing, growing more intense by the second.
"You don't. It's why it's considered a show of good faith."
"Leave the weapons," Coin ordered from beside her. She took out a gun from her side and set it down. Prim did not doubt she had others hidden away that she would not give up. Her guards followed her example. Gale grumbled and took out a gun and several knives. When a Circle soldier reached out for them, Gale almost snatched them back, but thought better of it and let go.
Prim and did not have any weapons on them, so it left Brutus.
"I'm not giving up anything," he stated simply. "It's not like it matters. Even without a weapon, if anybody decides to be a fool, I'll beat them so bad there won't be any brain left to work with."
"The orders were specific, and—"
"So will you be the first one brave enough to finally tell me no?"
The soldier gave a little gulp and seemed indecisive, so he reached down and pulled out a tablet, typing something in, after a moment he looked up and nodded.
"Our leader will allow it, but only for you."
Brutus sneered but took up a position outside the door.
"Your leader didn't fucking allow anything. He's just scared of me too. Now are you going to open the door, or will you prove yourself further useless?"
Prim sucked in a breath as the soldier nearly jumped to the doors, opening them. She followed Brutus as he walked through the doors and stepped inside. And then instantly wanted to step back outside.
Cato sat in a chair in the center of the room, looking much like a king on a throne, with a litany of giant soldiers surrounding him that she recognized from upper levels of training, all outfitted with the black uniforms of the circle. Prim did not notice anymore. Her eyes couldn't leave Cato, and he met her gaze with a glare, his lips pulling up in a sneer. Deep trenches ran along his cheeks, two on the right side, three on the left— the scars Jace's encounter left on him. They marred his beautiful face, but Prim had never seen such a handsome sight. His hair was cut into a short mohawk, the front stands tousled, and his familiar blue eyes dripped like icicles. Cato did not share her relief. His glare increased, muscles bunching in his arms, face tilted downwards, sending his eyes into darkness when Gale stepped behind her and placed a hand on the small of her back.
"Hello, little bird," Cato said in a voice devoid of the usual tenderness. It was a voice meant to force submission, but she was no longer easily cowed.
"Hello, Cato."
He closed his eyes briefly and then opened them to take her in, starting at her toes, lingering on her belly, and then they traced the angles of her face.
"You lied to me," he said, eyes flicking back down to her distended stomach, over the baby he had insisted on. "I should have known. You've always been a deceiving little bitch, but I thought I'd trust you for once… it's a mistake I won't make twice. Betrayal seems your true nature." His hard eyes flicked to Gale.
"It was to protect you," Prim said. She would not apologize for something she felt she had to do during the games.
Cato snorted, jaw clenching. Prim felt his fury and wished she could soothe him in some way.
"Where is Quintus?" She asked.
"Why would Quintus be here?"
"He's the leader, correct?"
This time Cato snorted harder, almost a laugh.
"I gave you so many clues, and you still never put it together."
"What are you talking about?"
His lips pulled up in disgust, almost snarling.
"I'm the leader of the Circle, little bird. Quintus worked for me."
The gunshot statement took her back in surprise, but on further thought, everything made sense. Both the notes from the Circle, besides the one she got in the games, were found after seeing Cato on her balcony, wanting to be let in to her rooms. He always seemed to know more than he let on about the game's design, knowing the gongs were coming and about the key and the crumbling sky. He planned an escape, though how much of it worked out the way he wanted, she didn't know.
"For how long?"
"Sometime after our engagement dance. Snow was playing his games, and this time you interested him, and that only ends in destruction or death. It was a ticking clock, and I couldn't let him win."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I thought you were a terrible liar. Who knew you'd be good enough to fool me."
"Cato, I only—"
A pain shot across her stomach. Prim schooled her features as best as possible, sucking in a breath. Not now, she told herself. It was the worst time. The entire rebellion relied on this meeting, and she was already fucking it up. The effort to control her reactions was wasted. She ground her teeth and knew the pain showed on her face.
"What's wrong?" Cato asked. He did not get up, but his face lost its glare.
"It's," she panted, "It's nothing. Really, just continue… Please."
He narrowed his eyes at her.
"Didn't I already tell you I don't trust a fucking thing coming out of your mouth." He motioned at a soldier standing in the corner that must be only fourteen, a low-ranked club boy. He jumped and picked up a nearby chair and ran it to Prim. The wooden chair clicked against the tile floor.
"Sit," Cato said.
She didn't want to. The pain was coming and going was too intense, and her body instructed her to walk it out.
"Really, Cato—"
"I said sit," he said through clenched teeth, "If nothing else, you're carrying my child. Don't make me force you."
"Careful, son." Brutus warned from the corner, "No matter how grown you think you are, I can still whoop you when I have to." He turned to Prim, "And do as the welp says, girl, and sit down. You're making me nervous."
Prim sucked in a breath and sat. If it shut them up, she'd do it. The momentary relief was soon overtaken by sharp pains running from her stomach to her toes, and she felt like a boulder pressed down on her pelvis. She squirmed to get comfortable and then made sure to hide her pain.
Cato did not offer anyone else a seat, and nobody asked.
"So you were just dying to meet with me," Cato said with disdain, "Now It's your obligation to begin the negotiations. Though I'll warn you that I'm not inclined to accept any terms from a group that almost killed me."
"My orders were to leave you not kill you," Coin said.
Prim heard Gale shift behind her, but they were interrupted by a side door at the back of the room slamming open. A disheveled Hannibal ambled in, pushing back his blond curls from his face.
"Sorry I'm late. Katla took about three hours doing her hair in the bathroom. I had no time to-" he trailed off, noticing everyone in the room. "Damn, it's already started."
A muscle in Cato's jaw ticked.
"Oh, Prim's here!" Hannibal exclaimed, and then he whiplashed back. "And holy fuck, she's pregnant… like about to plop a baby on the floor… Cato, why the fuck is Prim pregnant? And why has nobody informed me of this important fact?" He seemed to wobble, unsteady on his feet with the surprise. "Is it— am I going to be an uncle again, or am I going to have to help kill someone?"
Cato gave a little groan and rubbed at the spot between his eyes.
"It's mine, or it better be, and now that you're informed, you can shut up and participate in this vital meeting like an adult."
Hannibal's mouth, which had been open, snapped shut, but he quickly opened it up again.
"I hate meetings, so fucking boring usually, but now it just got interesting. Glad to see you, Primmy." He winked at her.
Prim rolled her eyes. Hannibal always had a way of making things seem just a little less serious. She was glad he was here, as he was one of the only people that could temper Cato's foul mood.
"Now that we have aired out our grievances," Coin said in a flat voice, "We can get back to the matter at hand. We've come to offer you a deal, Cato Carthage.".
"And why should I accept this deal?"
"Because it benefits us both. I want Snow dead, and you want to be the one to pull the trigger. We can't do either of those things without each other."
Cato's face tightened. He had on the expression he wore so often in the games, the one of the God of War, eager for blood.
"And what are you prepared to offer me to make this happen? I do nothing for free. Whatever deal we make will be signed with a sacrifice."
Coin seemed to consider him with her own hard eyes.
"You can have half of Panem," Coin said in a calculating voice.
"And you'll rule the other half?"
"Precisely."
"And what about the resources? If its split, they will be divided up unevenly."
"You can have your top two choices, and we'll trade. It'll stimulate the economy to have two separate countries living side by side."
Prim remembered their conversations in the study so long ago.
"If I ran the government, there wouldn't be another person. There'd just be me."
The deal appealed to Cato; she saw it in the glint in his eye. Prim dreaded him answering because he wouldn't be a good leader. He was too jaded, too ruthless. Cato was a general, a warrior, meant for the battlefield and not the president's chair. Prim did not know much about Coin, but from the little she did know, she was too much like Snow for Prim to think she would benefit Panem. The future would be bloody and terrible under them.
"No," Cato said. "It's not enough."
"Half of Panem isn't enough?" Gale said with a snarl, speaking for the first time.
"I said no, didn't I?" Cato matched his glare.
Coin narrowed her eyes in thought, analyzing her opponent.
Another pain went through Prim, and it took everything in her to not cry out. She sucked in a breath and arched back in her seat, feeling her whole stomach tighten up. It felt like a real contraction, lasting a whole minute before returning to normal. When she finally could breathe normal again, she glanced up to see Cato looking at her with a frown, sensing something was wrong.
"The Capitol," Coin said, "you can have the Capitol, along with half the districts, to do with as you please. Raze it to the ground. Kill their children. Grant them pardons. The revenge would be up to you."
Cato's attention returned to the discussion. He wanted what she said, the entire Capitol with their calculating, frivolous, blood-hungry people in his hand to squeeze if he wished it. He must have dreamed of it while thinking of Coral, of his revenge should something happen to his daughter.
"No," Cato said again, though this time he sounded pained, as if he wanted it very much.
Coins eyes widened a little, as if sure he would take the bite. Then they narrowed into a potent form of anger, one made of a slow-festering poison.
"I've told you what we're willing to sacrifice," Coin said. "What more could you want?"
"I want it all."
He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms on his chest with his chin tilted low. The muscles in his forearms bulged.
The tension in the room tripled. The guards raised themselves on their toes, getting into a position to fight. Brutus uncrossed his arms and put one hand on the knife strapped to his belt.
"We could make you," Coin said in a voice deceiving in its softness, "Force you to side with us like we did with the other districts. We'd take your head and put it on a spike to warn others against dissention. Kill anyone else that dares to oppose us. You'd turn on each other like animals before the end."
The threat did not scare Cato.
"You're trying to discipline me like a child," he said, "But you're giving me a threat you never intend to deliver. You don't have the resources to attack us. Not to mention, half this district has been trained for war their whole lives. A whole district of battle-ready soldiers. We'd be a ruthless enemy… or a valuable ally. You're choice."
Coin's face hardened further. Lips disappearing into thin, bloodless lines.
"You ask too much."
"Then we're through here."
Everything in Prim jolted. They couldn't fail. Panem depended on it. The babies wanting to push out of her needed a free Panem. Despite being in complete agony, Prim stood up, clutching at her stomach, knowing just what to do to convince Cato.
The rest of the room was in an uproar with shouting and arguing. The men squared up, puffing out their chests. In the chaos, Coin and Cato stood still, unmoving with their glares, like two dogs growling at each other before attacking.
"Me," Prim shouted, "you can have me too."
The silence in the room was sudden and complete. Every face turned to her. Cato gave up the staring contest with Coin and snapped to her, widened with surprise and a flash of something she could only describe as yearning before the mask fell once more, blocking her from his emotions.
"Prim," Gale said, "You can't."
"I can, and I will," Prim said firmly.
Gale placed a hand on her shoulder.
"But the districts hate him. If it looks like you align with him—"
Cato made a move as if about to stand, the tense lines in his body returned.
"We'll just have to manipulate them into liking him. I'm sure with all the minds present, we could think of something.
Prim turned to Coin. The woman in question tapped her chin in thought.
"It could work, though it would be tricky," Coin said, "We've never officially proclaimed you a couple, just showed you working as a unit. The districts won't like it—aligning the Mockingjay with a career—but they want Snow's head more."
"Hold the fuck up," Cato boomed, and for the first time he stood up. "You're talking about me as if I'd even accept this deal. Who says I'd ever take you back?" He pierced Prim with a hard stare. "You betrayed my trust. Spit at my affections. Went back to the arms of that damn fucking rat, even after he stabbed me in the chest." He thumped where the sword entered with a closed fist. "And now you're here, being a fucking martyr again, sacrificing yourself to the dragon. The only thing preventing me from taking your neck and squeezing the life out is my babe in your belly. What if I don't want you anymore?"
The words were a knife to her heart. A sudden, slicing pain. A nuclear explosion in her chest, powerful enough to bring her to her knees. Cato's love, or at least his desire, had always been a constant. She spent so long fighting it that it never occurred to her she might lose it.
"You're right," Prim's words wobbled, and a sharp pain went through her belly, but with her emotional pain, it didn't hurt so bad in comparison. "I'll just— I'll go. You don't have to see me again. I won't bother you." Prim turned as if to waddle out, holding back her tears.
"Wait," Cato said.
Prim twisted and found he had his hand outstretched, and he was breathing heavy.
"What do you want, Prim? What's your game this time because I don't know if I can stand it if you left me again for him. You need to choose between us. This time I won't stop you if you decide to leave, but if you do, you'll lose me."
A choice. She never had a choice. Her heart betrayed her long ago. It was broken and reformed to fit into Cato's hand. She gave it to him long ago, and she wouldn't get it back.
She walked forward, taking slow steps until she stood before him. He looked hesitant, almost scared, leaning backwards away from her as if she was a snake that could inject him with venom. She ignored him and grabbed his hand, hard and calloused and placed it against her belly, on top of the life currently jabbing inside. One of the little feet pushed out against its father's hands.
Cato let out a whoosh of air.
They were silent for a long time, and the other occupants were as well, holding their breath. No one moved. Cato's hand stayed glued to her stomach as the foot pushed the skin up and down. He did not meet her eyes.
"Tell me," Cato said, "I need to hear you say it out loud."
"You," Prim brought her hand up and traced it along his jaw. It clenched under her fingertips. He blinked rapidly, looking past her into empty space. "I want you, Cato."
"Forever," his words were strangled and tight, "Promise me forever. I'll take nothing less."
"Forever."
He shut his eyes tight and then finally looked at her, hands still on her stomach. His eyes were waves and she crashed and dived with them.
"I'll accept your deal." Cato said, addressing Coin though his eyes stayed locked on Prim, "I'll take half the district, the capitol, and The Mockingjay."
"Good," Coin said, "It's time to—"
"I'm not through." Cato continued.
"What else?" Coin seethed.
"I want the rat's head."
Gale pulled out a knife, hidden under his shirt, and the whole room sprang into action. All the soldiers on both sides went into a flurry of different defensive positions. Cato pushed Prim behind him. Brutus drew his sword and held it glinting in front of him.
A terrible pain, worse than any before burst through Prim, nearly knocking her to her knees in its intensity. This time she knew it was very real. She gave a low scream, but it was drowned by the tension and violence brewing around her. Hannibal walked forward and stood next to her with his own knife in his hand and a scowl on his face. Prim was in too much pain to notice much else.
"You broke the only terms I had for this meeting by keeping your weapon. It gives me even more reason to kill you." He turned to coin. "Do I have your permission to cut off his head?"
Coin, for once, looked startled. At the violence or the quick turn of events. Either one, she took a moment to think before answering.
"I hate to lose him. The districts like him, and there will be lots of lies and explaining if he suddenly disappeared." She paused and then nodded. "But this is war and sacrifices must be made for the greater good. Go ahead."
Gale looked eviscerated. The betrayal sharp and painful. District 13 threw him into the fire without a second thought to the man he hated almost more than Snow. Everything he planned crumbled and Prim could see it on his face.
The pain in her stomach slowly let up, until she could breathe again.
"Pay attention, Rat, I'm about to show you what revenge tastes like."
"You can, try," Gale called back, holding his knife in a position that was better trained than in the games. For six months, Gale spent nearly every waking hour with a weapon in hand. "But I've gotten better."
Cato scoffed and reached over and plucked the knife from Hannibal's hand, a weapon of similar size and weight. Prim finally understood that Cato was serious. He planned on killing Gale, probably in a painful and slow manner with the way he grinned, as if playing. If she didn't stop it, a bloody fight would erupt.
"Not better than me. Let me show you."
Cato raised his knife, a signal to begin. He took one step forward.
"Stop!" Prim screamed out.
"I promised you I'd only grant him mercy once," Cato said. Every muscle in his body was bunched and tense, ready to spring.
Prim felt pressure and pain at once and then a small pop. Her water broke, liquid dripped down her leg. It made a small puddle on the concrete floor. Hannibal jumped away and looked at her as if she was a different species.
In shock, Prim glanced up at Cato, but he already understood without her saying anything. His knife clattered against the floor.
"The babies are coming," Prim said softly.
Cato pulled his head back in surprise.
"Babies?" Cato asked. "What the fuck do you mean babies?"
Another contraction slammed into her out of nowhere, much stronger and more intense than anything before. She stumbled, grabbing at her stomach and cried out. Cato sprung forward and caught her before she lost her balance. She was done with the bullshit around her, and she could no longer put up with the grudges and fighting, not when it felt like fire wanted to burst out of her.
"It means there's two little people about to come out of me. So find my mother right now, or so help me, I'll take that knife and murder everyone in here for being stupid fucking idiots."
"Shit," Cato said as if recovering, "Someone get her mother."
"Right on it," Brutus said.
"Twins," Hannibal said. He looked pale. "I'm about to be an uncle to twins." Then he stumbled backwards and sat down in a daze.
Cato scooped up Prim, bridal style. Prim barely noticed, in too much pain to care what happened.
"Sometimes I wonder how we're related," Cato sneered at his brother on the ground. "Let's hope the babies don't inherit anything from him." Cato stepped over Hannibal on his way out of the door. He stopped in front of Gale, who still held his knife, but did not lunge. "This isn't over," Cato warned. "I promise that after Snow dies, your blood will stain my fingers."