Song Suggestion: Alt-J- "Deadcrush"

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Greeting Death

They placed her back in the white cells, like they did before the games. This time they did not give her a ball to entertain herself. Prim wondered how long she had been in there. It could have been minutes or days. Prim suspected the truth hovered around hours, but each second stretched for eternity.

The trauma lingered. Another part of her soul chipped away. This time she was afraid of her lack of feeling, the sudden void. Being a healer and nonviolent was such a part of her identity that even though it was a necessary evil, it still stripped her of something essentially herself to not feel any empathy. Prim wondered if Cato would still love her at the end, or if she was too changed.

The only silver lining is they placed Coral in with her. The little girl, at first wary, now lay cuddled in her lap. Prim hummed a lullaby under her breath while smoothing down the tangled red curls.

"I've heard that song before," Coral said.

"You have?"

"In my dreams."

She used to sing the song to her all the time while putting her to bed. Prim was pleased the girl remembered.

"Where's mommy?"

Prim did not want to lie, nor did she want to tell her the truth.

"She went some place far away."

"Will she be back soon?"

"I'm sorry, baby girl. Your mommy is gone, but I'll be right here."

The girl sniffled and buried her face into Prim's stomach.

Prim went into a dazed trance. She went on in this way until she heard a key slipping into the lock, the click of it turning, and the grate of the door as it slid to open.

Prim stood up and placed Coral gently to the side. Her mind made peace with the inevitable. Death always revolved around her, promising to greet her soon. This time she decided to stop the rotation, and when death reached out a hand, she'd meet it as a friend.

However, death did not stand in the doorway. A pair of coal close-set eyes stared back at her. The woman grimaced. She tapped her red nails on the doorway, waiting for a response.

"You," Prim sputtered.

"Me." Mrs. Manniola brushed a strand of black hair that dared to come loose from her bun behind her ear.

How did her Manners Class for Little Ladies instructor end up in Snow's compound in his private dungeon?

Prim decided she must have already died, and this must be Hell.

"What are you doing here?"

"Getting you out." She turned up her nose. "At least, I was, but you're being decidedly ungrateful. Nothing has changed, it seems."

Prim fought a sudden crazed desire to hug the woman in front of her. Something inside Prim snapped back into place, reminding her of who she was.

"I'm so fucking confused. Who sent you?"

"There's no time for a story. I'm here to spring you from jail. We need to be fast, or we'll lose the opportunity."

"How do I know I can trust you?"

She rolled her eyes and managed to look bored. She stood and rubbed the tips of her fingers together.

"Betrayal is so gauche. If I wanted to grind you into the ground, I could just do it now and no one would stop me."

True. Prim hesitated for a second and then nodded. She had no time and no other options.

Prim did not question her anymore. She turned to Coral who huddled on the ground. The girl presented a problem. She may protest being led out. There was no time to overthink it, and there was no choice. She couldn't leave Coral behind and neither would she stay behind herself.

Prim kneeled before Coral.

"I'm going to need you to be very brave. Do you think you can do that for me?"

Coral hesitated but nodded her head. Prim was amazed at how intelligent she was and had to keep reminding herself that the little girl in front of her was a full year older than the girl taken from her. Every movement and action reminded her of the lost time.

"Good. I know you can too. You don't remember me, but I remember you, and I especially remember how brave you always were. Just like your father."

Talking about her father seemed to do the trick. She hadn't forgotten him and beamed up at her.

"You want to see him?"

"Yes!" Coral said.

"Then I promise if you are very quiet, we'll see him again."

Prim hated promising something she wasn't sure she could commit to, but there was no other way to get the girl out of the cell and into her arms with trust.

Prim reached out her hand, and Coral put her pudgy one into her own. Prim placed one finger on her lips to remind her of what to do.

Now ready, she followed Mrs. Manniola who sashayed down the hall. Her shoes clicked against the white floors. Prim remembered when the empty, monotone colors nearly broke her mind and was glad to be rid of it.

The body of a Capitol guard was slumped next to her cell with a dart in his neck. He gave a loud snore, chin pushed into his neck. Manniola tranquilized them. Prim wondered if she could trust the woman gingerly stepping over the guard's body. She had already been betrayed too many times, she almost didn't trust anyone.

Coral gave a little gasp at the sight of the body, and Prim squeezed her hand.

"He's just sleeping."

Prim stepped over the body and lifted Coral. The girl's arms wrapped around her neck, squeezing with her terror. It felt good to have her so close, breathing in the scent of her hair that always somehow smelled like strawberries.

They marched along, and Prim glanced in the cells as they passed. All of them were empty, until she saw two bodies slumped together.

"Wait," she whispered to Manniola in a panic.

The girl in the cell was curled away, face pressed against the opposite wall. But Prim would recognize Katla anywhere. Lorcan lay forward, his face set in a scowl, even unconscious.

"Katla," She whispered, but the body did not stir. Prim suspected she was drugged like Lorcan.

Prim turned to the Manniola. "Can we open this cell?"

Manniola walked closer and peered in, studying the scene with a furrowed brow.

"We can't bring them. We couldn't even carry the girl. Where you're going will only put her in danger anyway."

She hated the notion, but she was right. Prim would have to leave her friend huddled in the cells.

Prim's stood straight, blinking, suddenly realizing what Manniola just said.

"Where exactly am I going?"

"To Snow's control room, of course."

Prim didn't know where she expected them to go, but it surely wasn't there. Manniola gave her an out, and she took it with no real plan.

"And how the fuck would you know where that is? No one does."

She shrugged her delicate shoulder and gave a little smack of her red lips.

"Didn't I tell you it's important to know how to attract a man? It's especially important when the man in question is Snow's head of security. Men say such stupid things when they think they're in love."

Prim set Coral back on her feet. She reached a hand up instinctively to her pocket. The only thing left was the Timestopper and the ring Lux gave, and it would do no good in this situation. Instead, Prim snarled, trying to look intimidating.

"Why are you here, and how did you find me?" Prim pushed Coral behind her.

"I'm here because Cato sent me here." She noticed Prim's surprised expression and tilted her head with a sneer of her own. "Oh, he didn't tell you, did he? My my my, how delicious. The plots and plans he left you out of will be a shock to your system."

"If you know the plots and plans, now would be a good time to tell me before diving into Snow's den."

Mrs. Manniola pursed her lips.

"If Cato left you out of them, he did so for a reason, and I'm not about to mess that up."

"You can at least tell me your part."

"I'll do it, but only because I owe you one. That beast Jace tried to corner me once, said he'd be back when he had more time for a proper hunt. If you hadn't… well let's just say the psycho didn't deserve me." Mrs. Manniola motioned to Coral. "Snow needed a tutor for his granddaughters."

That was news. She knew vaguely of a legitimate daughter. And of course, she knew Persephone, but this was the first she ever heard of his family.

"Granddaughters… how many does he have?"

"Eight."

Prim whistled.

"No grandsons?"

Manniola gave her a sharp look.

"Snow doesn't like heirs. They're a threat to his rule."

It took a moment to get her meaning before it dawned on Prim that Snow must kill his male descendants. There have been many revelations in the last twenty-four hours that could make her ill, she should be used to horror, but acid still spiked up her throat. Prim understood Snow killed children all the time, but to kill his own… the thought was too revolting to comprehend.

"Anyway." Manniola brushed the air with her hand. "Cato knew I fit the requirements. Well-mannered, knowledgeable, and loyal to the cause." Her eyes turned blacker than they already were. "They killed my husband a year ago. They said it was an accident, and Snow is convinced I believe the lie, but I know better."

"I'm sorry," Prim said, really meaning it.

"What do I need a sorry for when I have revenge close at hand?" Her eyes went back to Prim, and she could have sworn she glimpsed a little flicker of respect before dimming. "Cato needed someone on the inside to get close to Coral, and I volunteered for the task."

"What do you get out of it?"

"That's between me and Cato. Now let's go. We're wasting time. The soldiers will be coming to get you soon."

Prim's eyes narrowed before letting up. Prim believed her and trusted her, even if she didn't like her.

"I'll come back and get you out of here," Prim whispered to her friends. Another promise she wasn't sure if she could keep. It felt the same as it did with Theodora, when she promised she would get them both out alive. Foolish and hopeful, but Prim said it anyway.

Prim gave a heavy sigh and continued the walk, stepping over a second guard as they went. On the ground were the helmets Lux gave Katla and Lorcan, sitting outside the door. It was then that something stuck her hard, rotating and revolving. It was as if she opened a door, and a plan flashed in front of her.

Snow believed in fear. Cassius believed in love. Prim believed in both.

It was easy to see Snow as inhuman, but even he had something to protect.

"Manniola," Prim said. The woman gave a practiced twist of her body, still elegant even in life or death circumstance. "I have a task for you."

Prim glanced down at the guard, inches from her toe and smiled.

Five Minutes Later

Two minutes after they exited the basement cells, Manniola slammed her and Coral into an alcove as a legion of soldiers marched past. They both breathed in panic, praying Coral stayed silent, until they marched away and then relaxed.

"They were on their way to get you. We got out just in time," Manniola said and shivered.

"What was he planning to do with me?"

Manniola eyed her.

"Execute you publicly on projected screens and then string your dead body up on the tallest tower, so the army could see your failure. He hoped it would crack their will."

"Thanks for getting me out," Prim said.

"I didn't do it for you." Manniola pushed away from the wall.

They parted ways shortly after, as Mrs. Manniola tucked Coral into her side.

"Take care of her."

Manniola rolled her eyes.

"No, I'm just going to let her wander off back into the pit."

Prim ignored the sarcasm.

"If I don't make it—"

"Yes,yes…" She waved her hand, "I'll protect the girl with my life. Now go and save Panem, you vulgar little heathen." This time there was a little less vitriol behind the sentence. Prim wasn't sure when the woman's view of her changed, but it felt more like teasing.

Prim turned to walk away, but Manniola stopped her with a touch to her shoulder.

"Snow will be in there. He still has Cato. Whatever plans your lion made seems to have fallen apart somewhere. Remember my lessons. They seem like nothing, but they are everything. Snow likes games of wit. Appeal to his ego and challenge it. It's the only way to win. You can expect him to already know you're coming." She eyed her hard for a long moment. "I believe your theory about him is right. It's the only reason I'm giving up my cover. Don't die and make me hate you again."

Prim nodded, unable to say anything back. A ball of worry lodged in her throat. Her mind rejected the idea that she was willingly stepping into Snow's domain with few weapons or a clear plan. But it was the only course, the end of the game, the finish line. The march to the control room seemed fated from the beginning. If she lived a thousand different lives, they would all reach the same conclusion with the scent of roses and blood.

Ten Minutes Later

Prim still wore her capitol soldier uniform, along with one of the helmets they found outside Lorcan and Katla's cell. It came in handy as she swept past guards and important figures out the back doors and into the night sky. Sunlight attempted to burst through the darkness, coloring the edge of the world in the distance.

In the air was screams and moans, gunfire and explosions. The assault at the front doors was still going on, and Prim figured it went badly, judging by the sounds. Prim tried not to think about Lux and Gale, relying on her and their half-baked plan that already fell apart.

She continued her march outside. The world beyond the compound buzzed with patches of chaos and patches of silence. She saw the little house in the distance, the same as others next to it, except for the red door and black shutters, just like Manniola told her.

"Clever devil," Prim whispered

Snow didn't put his control room in the bunker. He put it on the edges of the city, in a nondescript building. It would have been impossible to discover it on their own. Their plan was doomed to fail from the beginning. They would have been caught in Snow's web, and Lux would have been ensnared in the bobby-trapped city, unable to invade.

Prim knew the outside of the little house was deceiving. It wasn't made of brick and mortar. The structure would be reinforced to withstand a nuclear explosion. Prim scaled the steps, seeing the rose bushes planted around the front beds, confirming she had the right spot.

A small camera swiveled to view her. In response, Prim threw off her helmet, the disguise no longer important now that she reached her destination.

"Let me in," Prim said. The camera made an odd noise, as if zooming into her face. She made sure to give a snarl. Prim felt her heartbeat from her fingertips to her toes, thumping across her body, but she wouldn't give Snow the satisfaction of her fear. He stole enough of that already.

Prim waited five whole minutes. She resisted tapping her toes and fidgeting, knowing this was all a part of Snow's mind games. Idle minds worked against themselves. If he gave her time to think, he gave her time to overthink and let her doubts grow. Prim did her best to shut down her mind. She did not think of Coral back in the belly of the beast, surrounded by Snow's men with only Manniola for protection. She did not think of Cato under Snow's thumb. She did not think of Katla. Or Hannibal. Or Lux. Or the twins in her mother's arms.

She focused on her breathing, on the fact she was still alive, after everything. She reminded herself of all the things meant to break and destroy her, how she rebuilt her bones and soul in the ashes of destruction and kept the sneer firmly on her face, hate burning holes through her body.

Finally, the heavy metal door, probably ten inches thick, made a loud, grating click. The lock came open. Snow let her in.

She moved almost subconsciously, war-weary and precise, until she reached out for the handle. Prim took a breath, knowing after she turned this handle the final game began, a life or death stakes. Once she entered, she could not retreat or give up. The game must be played to its bloody conclusion, where she either failed everyone or triumphed against all odds.