Song Suggestion: Son Lux- "Easy"

A/N: Only two more chapters after this one. I can't believe it!

Champion Warfare

The first person she saw was Cato, tied to a chair with heavy ropes, a gag in his mouth. Upon seeing her, he struggled against his constraints, but it was no use.

The second person she saw was Cassius. He stood behind Cato, hair unnaturally wild, glasses askew, tie loosened, no over jacket, and a gun pointed to his brother's blond head. Hannibal's blood speckled his white shirt.

She saw Snow last. He faced a row of screens, each showing a different vantage point around the city. She felt like she was inside an insect's head with a hundred eyes, each reflecting back chaos and war. He grasped his hands behind his back, spine ramrod straight.

No other people were in the little house, which was comprised of one large room. Prim wondered where the guards were, but she assumed Snow had a button on his person or near him that would call them if needed.

The rest of the room was bare. In the middle was a small metal table with two gleaming metal chairs. Near the computers was a long panel, filled with several buttons and switches. Somewhere on it was the deactivation button.

Snow did not turn around at first, viewing the carnage before him. It did not seem to worry him, disturb him, or make him joyful. He watched it impassively, as if this was nothing important, instead of the most successful rebellion against the Capitol since the Dark Days war.

Prim studied the battles. Lux was supposed to wait for the city's systems to be deactivated. Prim did not know how much time passed, losing the hours while inside the pit and in the cells, but she assumed it was enough time Lux decided they failed.

Lux threw his soldiers forward into Capitol streets, triggering different booby traps. Prim saw fire and mutts. Genetically engineered monsters swarming soldiers and tearing out their insides, ripping their hearts from their bodies and eating them in front of them. Black sludge tar burst from another, killing many instantly. Snow did not look worried, because despite their numbers, the district army was losing.

She was so wrapped up in viewing the massacre, she didn't realize Snow twisted around.

"You crawled through the tunnels. You survived the pit. You broke free from my personal dungeon." He looked her up and down, as if reexamining her worth. "And now you're here… Boldly coming for your lion. You're either lucky or more intelligent than I gave you credit." He stopped and brought his thumb to his lips, giving a nimble to the dead skin in thought. "I've come to realize it's both. You've become a worthy enemy, Mockingjay. You've demanded me to see you as a threat, and I believe it now."

Prim straightened. She had no other weapon on her besides her ring and the Timestopper. It rested in her pocket. She considered using it to reach the deactivation button, if she could get it out without suspicion. But the Timestopper only gave about one minute. It wouldn't be enough time to hit the right button. If she pressed the wrong one, it might inflict devastation. Besides, even if she did press it, once the effects wore off, they would promptly turn back on the system before Lux got in far enough.

No, she'd have to play this game smart to win.

Snow saw the way her breath caught, the way her foot took a small step backwards. He smiled and tilted his head, viewing his prey with interest.

"My assessment is an honor, I assure you. You're one of only a few people to ever make it to my list of true threats. You should be smiling with the compliment. It's a shame you pit yourself against me." He took out a gun and pointed it at Prim. She tried not to tremble but felt the shivers run along her skin, raising the hairs in its wake. "My mistake before this moment was leaving your death up to other people."

Prim refused to look at Cato as he flailed against his bonds. Didn't he understand he couldn't save her all the time? She didn't need a hero. Not when she could be her own.

"Haven't you wondered why I came here?" Prim asked. "I have few weapons, and none would be worthwhile to use."

Snow raised one eyebrow, a side of his lips twitched with amusement or annoyance. She couldn't discern which.

"Ah, so the rat is trying to make its own games. Tell me, Prim, what plans did you make?"

"Pull the trigger and everything you love will perish."

"Everything I love?" He gave a small laugh. "Who told you I loved anything."

"You loved Persephone."

A darkness flashed over Snow's face, crumbling his façade, revealing his rage and grief before his mask snapped back into place.

"She was the only thing I loved, and you already killed her. Now I have nothing left to lose."

Prim doubted her whole plan. Maybe he told her the truth. But doubt would get her nowhere. If anything, a good bluff won more games than a sure hand.

"You actually have eight things left to lose."

She had never seen Snow surprised before. He lowered his gun, mouth slack, and his hand gave one brief shake. He aimed the gun, face breaking into a frown, and then lowered it again. She saw the information absorbing into his brain, saw him try to mash it into something made for him.

"I'm listening."

Prim walked over to a table in the center of the room and pulled out a chair and sat down, feeling calmer than she thought she would. Snow followed her lead and slowly lowered himself into a chair across from her. He folded his hands together on the table waiting for her to speak.

"At this moment, your granddaughters are in the presence of someone with a personal vendetta against you."

"How would she know if you died," Snow answered, voice slithering along her spine. "What's to stop me from killing you and then send guards to kill her?"

"She has with her a helmet that can read my DNA heat signature. An unfinished creation from Ardor Rose. If it goes out, she is instructed to go bed by bed and slit each throat."

His paper skin tightened, the pale wrinkles folding in on themselves. Prim had never seen him so old, so fragile. Prim did not let his appearance fool her. His mind was the force to be reckoned with.

"Show me," He said.

Cassius left his post behind his brother and walked to the control board. He clicked at the keyboard and one of the screens to his left flickered and changed to view the granddaughter's rooms. They all slept together in the same room. From what she could see, they ranged in age from nearly adult to a small toddler. Manniola told her that Snow took them from their parents and raised them together so they couldn't be influenced by anyone else's opinion except him. Prim wondered why Snow allowed Coral to be raised by Cato, but figured he thought she was the equivalent of a half-breed, and therefore not worthy of living in the Capitol.

Mannioal sat in a rocking chair in the corner of the room, humming a haunting lullaby and clutching a glimmering knife with the helmet on her head. Coral slept in one of the beds closest to Manniola, snoring peacefully beside her cousins.

Snow stared at the scene for a long time before giving a curling smile.

"Do you see Cato… do you see the wicked little thing she's become? Willing to kill children for her end goal. She's become as vile as all of us."

The truth sliced her soul, but Prim brushed it off. She refused to meet Cato's eyes, afraid of what she'd find there.

Snow leaned back in his chair, letting his smile linger, as if he found his equilibrium. She knew he planned something in that malevolent brain of his. Every cell in her body stood up and paid attention.

"So we're at an impasse, unless I'm willing to sacrifice them."

"You won't."

Snow flinched, betraying himself.

"You've backed me into a corner, I admit." He said it as if he was defeated, but his eyes told a different story. "We're at a stalemate. You can't kill me, and I can't kill you. What do you propose we do?" He wasn't asking her. He turned to Cassius. The man in question straightened his glasses. "You're the historian, Cassius. What did the ancients do when facing a similar problem?"

"The Americans liked to play games of chicken, but it didn't end well. The whole world suffered. I think you know that story. The ancients of the ancients had a better strategy. When two opposing armies wanted to end a battle with the least amount of bloodshed, they turned to something called Champion Warfare, sending out each of their best fighters. The victor claimed everything."

Snow tapped his chin in thought.

"Single combat?"

"Yes," Cassius continued. "It was used throughout most of human history and was especially loved by the Greeks."

Snow glanced back at Prim, examining every inch of her, as if he could x-ray into her mind and discover every weakness and secret. Finally, his grin came back, showing a flash of glinting white teeth.

"What do you say, Everdeen? Care to play? I'll send my best." He placed a liver-spotted hand on his chest. "And you can send yours." He gave a little wave in Prim's direction. "The winner takes all."

Prim did not believe she was the best from their side. Lux would be better at this game. Cato would too. Hell, even Katla could manage better. But no one could fill Prim's shoes, and Snow wouldn't accept anyone else for the task. She also didn't think he'd make it so easy. Snow always had plots up his sleeve, and she hoped she could see through them in time.

"I've been waiting for us to meet one-on-one on the battlefield for a long time," Prim said.

Snow brought his thumb to his mouth and nibbled on the edges, a habit she noticed he tended to use while thinking.

"Get your sword ready, Primrose Everdeen," he said. "And be sure to make it sharp, for my armor is hard to pierce."

He did not mean an actual sword. She agreed to a game of wits, and her only daggers would be her neurons and synapses firing in her brain.

Several Minutes Later

Cassius set a rotating row of twenty shot glasses in front of her. He picked up a jug of water.

"Drink a sip, Cassius. To show her its not rigged."

Cassius gave a little swig. Some water dripped down his throat. And then he filled each shot glass.

Prim sneered at the display.

"Poison?" She asked, sounding like Cato with her disdain, "Do you take me for a fool? You think I don't know what the bleeding sores in your mouth are from?"

"I'm immune to all but a few poisons. But you know this already, Ms. Everdeen." He paused but didn't expect an answer. He reached out and touched a glass and picked it up. "The poison we'll use is called Batrachotoxin. It's made from a rare toxic frog smuggled into Panem with the black market. It's potent enough to steal my breath and stop my heart within fifteen minutes of drinking it."

"How would I even know you're telling the truth? It could be anything in those glasses."

"Why Primrose, it's from your own stores."

Prim's brain seemed to stop, and she attempted to school her face from her confusion. What the fuck is he talking about? She glanced sideways at Cato, but his eyes were wide and urgent and did not help her.

She never created any poisons, least of all one named Batrachotoxin from the backs of poisonous frogs.

"My stores?"

Prim was trying to piece everything together before they started the game. Something did not add up, and every atom in her body knew it to be important to solve if she wanted to win the game of wits.

"Show her, Cassius."

Her eyes zoomed in, studying his movements as he bent down and retrieved a familiar sack from under Cato's chair. He unsnapped the familiar black leather satchel. Prim figured Cassius stole her medicine bag, but seeing the proof made her so angry she could twist it in the air beside her. Prim hoped he felt the hatred boring into him, hoped it hit him like lasers.

Cassius rummaged in the satchel and retrieved an empty blue vial and held it in the air. If possible, her confusion grew.

"What are the rules?"

"It's an ancient game called Russian roulette usually played with a single bullet and a gun to the head, but I've tweaked it for situations just like this. We'll spin the stand and then choose a glass until all the shots have been taken."

It seemed too easy and too fair. And nothing still made sense.

"I thought you preferred games of wit?" Prim motioned to the lethal drinks in front of her. "This is a game of chance."

Snow sat back.

"Every game is a game of chance," he said. "But even games that seem devoid of choice have an edge of wit if you look close enough."

It was enough for Prim to understand something about this was rigged. She just needed to figure out what if she wanted to win.

Cassius shifted from foot to foot and it drew her eye. She glared at him for a long moment.

The poison is the truth.

But how could the poison be the truth when she never made it in the first place?

Her mind slipped and tangled and then suddenly everything cleared, leaving what she sought. It glinted under the lies, all she needed to do was unbury it. Her hand went forward and brushed away the filth leaving an impossible realization.

Could it be? She wondered, holding in her gasp, hoping the realization wasn't written on her face. If I'm wrong, I'll doom them all.

The simplicity of the truth astounded her, feeling like magic under her fingers, a hope burning so bright in her chest it could power broken cities.

"I'm ready to play," Prim said.

A Few Minutes Later

Cassius dumped the contents of the blue vial into one of the shot glasses. It looked identical to the others with nothing to tell the difference. Next, he gave the table a spin and placed a cover over it, obscuring which glass contained it.

"This looks planned, as if you knew we'd end up this way."

Cassius took the top off.

"A contingency, I assure you. I doubted you'd reach this point, but I can't say I'm sorry. I prefer this."

Snow took the first shot glass. It told her many things, the first being that he wasn't afraid. Either he wished for death, or he knew it wouldn't be coming. Prim understood it to be the latter. Snow wouldn't give up his hold on power easy. It had to be torn from him, while he raged.

Prim watched it bob down his throat, imagined it running down his esophagus and into his stomach. The contents absorbing into his body.

Snow reached out and gave the little stand a turn, the outlines of the glasses ran together before slowing down to a stop. It was her turn now. With hesitation, Prim picked up a shot glass and downed it.

Prim reached out and spun the stand. After it twisted to a stop, Snow reached out and grabbed his second shot glass. He stopped a moment and rose one eyebrow before flicking his wrist back and downing it.

It continued this way in silence for a long time, until half the shot glasses were empty. The anxiety and waiting stretched the tension like a rubber band. Just one more pull and it would snap.

"If you drank the poison you wouldn't know it until it's too late." He stopped for a moment as if it was time for a confession. "I'm sure you know this, since it's your poison, but Batrachotoxin is one of the most lethal neurotoxins on the planet. The ancients that used to inhabit the rainforests used it with their poison darts, giving the frog its name. It's a particularly gruesome death. First causing paralysis that spreads to all the organs, eventually stopping the heart. It will give me great pleasure to see you gasping your last breaths."

Prim cauterized the insane instinct to laugh in his face.

"You're forgetting it could easily be you gasping for breath."

A wide smile spread across his face, so wide she could see the bleeding sores in his mouth. They looked fresh as if recently irritated. The metallic scent of blood wafted across the room, mingled with the smell of roses. A scent forever entwined with the memory of Snow.

"Is that what you think?" He reached out and plucked a shot glass up and downed it. And then he reached down and picked up a second and a third. Drinking each one until the rest of the glasses were empty. A victory smile followed, much like Cato's, smug in its assurance he gained the upper hand and would keep the balance of power that way.

"I assume you're confused," Snow continued. "Let me explain." He reached out his hand and Cassius placed the glass vial inside his palm. He held it up to the light, examining the last droplets of liquid in there. "Batrachotoxin is a rare toxin, but it is not rare enough. That was your first mistake." He placed the vial on the table with a small click and sneered at Prim. "If you really wanted to kill me, you should have searched for something difficult to find. The second mistake you made is that I'm already immune to the poison. Cassius has been in my employ for more than a year. He crawled to me after Theodora's death, desiring revenge. He told me about the poison then. How you brewed it a long time ago for Cato and then for me. It gave me enough warning to build my immunity, on the off chance you'd manage to use it. A drop here. A drop there. And what will fell the Mockingjay will keep me alive to smile."

Snow leaned back in his chair, allowing his fingers to temple in front of him. His white beard shook with mirth.

"You've lost, Mockingjay," His eyes went to the shot glasses. "You're first instinct about the game was true. I poisoned each one at the bottom of the glass before you came. You've had several doses. It no doubt is working its way through your veins, traveling to your heart. In the meantime, you can view the carnage of the war you're losing."

The screen closest to her changed to view Lux. He was fighting a robot. It shot lasers in his direction. It looked as if most of his entourage was injured or dead besides a handful, including Ace. Lux fought like a madman, swinging a sword and holding a giant shield in his left hand. Despite his ferocity, the lasers whipped past his head, searing off hair as it went. He couldn't hold much longer. Exhaustion would defeat him, especially against cold steel and metal that would not tire.

Prim turned away, unable to stomach anymore.

"You're forgetting that if I die, Manniola will slaughter your granddaughters."

He pulled up the sleeve of his coat, showing several buttons on the lining.

"I've already sent guards to arrest her."

Prim attempted to school her features, but she knew he saw the fear and rage, like a rat put back in a cage. But she wasn't a rat. She was the Mockingjay, and she didn't belong in a cage. It was time to spring free.

"I've always savored this moment the most," Snow said. "A betrayed look. Realizing life does not love you like you thought it did."

I want to see the cracks I created.

It reminded her of Jace, and it hardened her resolve, infused her with a stupid type of courage, the type meant for last reserves. The type that throws themselves over bombs before they blow.

He could see every broken, ugly part of her. She didn't care or try to hide it anymore. She became a monster for a monster.

"I lost?" Prim asked, clicking her head to the right. She gave her own smile, allowing it to pull across her face. "Is that what you think?"

She leaned forward, wanting to get a good look at his face when he had his own moment of realization.

"What you didn't consider is I'm not you, and I will never be you. You're driven by fear, and you assume everyone else is the same. For me, love is more important."

Prim's eyes did not leave Snow, but she saw Cassius snap straight.

"I'm a healer, Snow, no matter how broken. That was your first mistake." She leveled her eyes. Snow didn't leave her gaze either, and she saw his features change a miniscule amount each second that passed. Mouth lowering. Eyes widening, wrinkles furrowing. "I would never make a poison."

"If you didn't, someone did. I watched Cassius feed it to a rat. It died at my feet. I had my scientists examine it."

Prim shrugged.

"I have no answers for the dead rat. I only know the vial was mine, a blue vial. I filled it long ago, made for a specific purpose, but it did not contain poison."

Snow stood up, but it was too late. The liquid already worked its magic. He took a step and missed, his balance causing him to knock against the table. He held it to steady himself.

"What did you give me?" Snow hissed; his words slurred.

Prim stood as well.

"It wasn't poison." Her voice sounding sweet even to her ears. "It was a sleeping potion."

Snow attempted to lunge at her across the table but tipped sideways.

"Good night, Snow. When you wake, I'll make sure you answer for every crime you've ever committed."

"You bitch!" He bellowed. "You haven't won! You think this is my only contingency plan? I have more in store for you."

He lunged sideways towards the control panel. He pounded down on a green button to the far right. When nothing happened, he pounded again and again. He twisted towards Cassius, his face mangled in a snarl, the bleeding sores in his mouth trickling out the side, making him look like an ancient vampire, just as disgusting as the beasts in the pit.

"You disabled the panic buttons." Snow clutched at his chest and slid down against the panels to the ground. He wheezed, still managing to glare at Prim. "They're coming anyway. You won't be able to evade them."

If he disabled the panic buttons, it also meant that no guards were sent to retrieve Manniola.

But even defeated, Snow still managed to stick one more barb of fear through her heart, burrowing its way under her skin. Snow could be lying, but she doubted it. He did have something else planned, and it twisted the moment of victory into one of caution.

They weren't out of the woods yet.

Snow slid into sleep slowly, fighting each ticking second, clawing at the ground around him. The darkness dragged him under, eyelids flickering under the paper-thin skin. Prim hoped his dreams consisted of nightmares.

She felt the sleeping potion working its way through her veins as well, slower since she had a lighter dosage than Snow. She probably only had ten minutes at the most before she went under, and she had to solve the mystery before then.

The room sat that way for an entire minute, until Snow stopped twitching. Cassius walked forward, a sleek knife out. He leaned down, placing it against his throat.

"I hope this still hurts, bastard."

"Don't," Prim said.

"There's no room for your healer mentality in this room."

Prim shook her head. He didn't understand.

"I'm not trying to save him," Prim said. "His death belongs to Panem, and I'm going to deliver him. There will be a trial and public execution for the crimes he's committed against his own people."

Cassius hesitated, but he relented and pulled the knife away, spitting on the President's sleeping body.

"I see you solved the riddle." Cassius pushed on his crouched knees to stand. He gave a mangled smile.

Appearances can be deceiving. Things are never what they seem.

You need to remember this Prim—love is the strongest emotion we possess. Even fear bows to it.

She did. He loved his family. She shouldn't have doubted it. He told her long ago, she just wasn't listening properly. She should have known when he tenderly cradled Hannibal's head in his lap.

"How did you trick Snow?"

Cassius gave a smug smirk.

"I was the one who smuggled in Batrachotoxin. A slight of hand and one glass blue vial looks much like the next. Your use of it on Cato gave me the inspiration. Snow's immune to most poisons, because he expects people to use it on him. But he wouldn't expect to be put to sleep."

It made sense, and it was in that moment Prim understood everything about the past week had been planned to the smallest movement.

"The wedding—"

"Planned." Cassius motioned to Cato. "We had to make it look real. We had to convince Snow I betrayed Cato to get me inside the Capitol and close to Snow."

"Look real?" Prim's hands trembled in her sudden rage. "It was real. Do you know how many people died? How many…" Prim couldn't finish and choked out a sob. All her mind saw was the little boy hunched over with bullet holes riddling his back. "You sent guards to kill my babies."

Prim wanted to destroy something, tear around the room and smash and claw and roar. Cato lied to her. Cassius lied to her. They planned everything behind her back again. She understood logically. It was the only way to get both into the Capitol, leaving Cassius untethered to do what he needed to do. But still. Her emotions rolled and crashed, reminding her of every horror, every trauma since he dragged Cato away from her on her wedding day.

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the mention of the babies.

"This is the first I've heard of this. Those weren't my orders. Snow sent them on his own. I wouldn't have done that. And Cato wouldn't have put his own children in danger even if it meant getting into the capitol."

"And Lorcan saving me?"

"Planned as well. Cato knew he wouldn't kill you, even if ordered to."

"But you killed Brutus!" The thought made her jump to her feet, placing both hands on the desk before her. If she had a weapon with her, she would have pointed it at him.

He gave a quirk of a smile and pushed up his glasses.

"No, I didn't," he said. "Brutus would have been too hard to control. He's a smart, deadly bastard. He passed out from smoke inhalation soon after using the codes I gave him. I had four Avoxes stationed to collect his body and revive him."

Prim sat back down. The whiplash of emotions was too much, as relief spread through her. Brutus was alive! She wasn't sure if she wanted to strangle the bastard in front of her or hug him.

"Ivanka. You killed her too. And Morris."

She saw those. He couldn't wiggle out of it.

Cassius shrugged his shoulders, unbothered. "Collateral."

It told her all she needed to know. He may love his family, but he held no love for anybody else. His intelligence turned brutal and sliced down anyone in his path.

"And Hannibal…" She asked softly.

He shuddered.

"I don't know," he answered just as soft. "I gave him to Capitol healers, but they warned me he might not pull through."

"We need to end this," Prim said, getting back on track. "We need to deactivate the systems."

"It's the black button on the far right."

He walked forward to show her, until he stood shoulder to shoulder, but the door to the room burst open before they could reach the button, and eight white-clad elite Capitol soldiers streamed in with whirring blue-barreled guns pointed in their direction. Cassius raised his hands. They did not advance beyond the entrance to the room. Not yet. A table sat between them.

They stood in formation as a final person entered the room. She saw his familiar dark hair, his grey eyes, a little scruff on his chin. He looked gaunter than the last she saw him, as if worry and anger chipped away his health.

"Gale?" Prim asked. It punched out of her with a cry, deep from in her soul.

Cassius' betrayal may have been planned, but this was very real. She should have expected it, should have seen through it. A part of her didn't blame him. The last time she saw him, Cato threatened to kill him, whether they won the war or not.

The air emptied from her lungs; her heart squeezed painfully. How did the boy she once love turn into this person before her, with his own whirring gun aimed at her chest? She remembered the way he forced a knife into her hand, made her watch as the pathetic deer stumbled and died. If she concentrated, she could still feel his fingers brushing along her back as she cried into his shoulder after her sister died. Her rock. Her comfort. At one point, he was everything.

"Gale?" This time it sounded like plea. He gave her a pained look, but it quickly hardened into granite, an immovable force. He wouldn't give mercy to her or the ones she loved, not with his look of resolve. "Why?"

"It was the only way, little duck," Gale answered almost gently. "Now step away from the Carthage brothers. I know you won't want to see their deaths, despite deserving it."

He offered her amnesty, but she did not move. She wouldn't chose him, if it came down to it. Her fingers inched towards the Timestopper in her pocket.

"Whatever you're planning to do with that hand, you'll need to stop," Gale spat, voice no longer soft. "I really don't want to shoot you, but if you make me, I will. Now kindly take a few steps to the side so I can fill the eldest Carthage with bulletholes."

Prim raised her head, trembling with rage, and stepped in front of Cassius.

"Then shoot me."

Gale's jaw clenched. She wondered if he'd really do it, but she never had to find out. Cassius reached out one hand and laid it on her shoulder, then he leaned over and whispered in her ear.

"Release him."

She didn't understand what he asked her, but she had enough sense not to ask for clarification.

"No secrets," Gale warned, raising his own weapon.

Cassius let go of her shoulder.

"No need for dramatics, rat. I just told her to stand down." Cassius put his hands behind his back, mimicking Snow's stance, a show of power. The intimidating gesture made the guns raise higher, the muscles in the arms of the soldiers tensing, knowing a threat approached.

"Hands up," Gale said. "And we may just take you alive."

Cassius viewed the people before them, the eyes behind his glasses stopping on each soldier before moving on, calculating the next move. She saw his brain processing the information from here, sorting and cataloguing.

"I see my work is unfinished. A final level I didn't anticipate." He gave an unnerving smirk. "But even the weakest lion can gut you."

One hand released from behind his back. Several small black orbs flew from his outstretched fingers. They hurtled towards the soldiers, landing at their feet. They tinged against the ground. Cassius flipped the table and pushed her head below just in time. The orbs exploded, sending shards around the room. Blood rained down as choking smoke billowed around the room.

"Do what I told you," Cassius said, and then he hurtled over the table, with a knife and gun already in both hands. She did not hear the fight but heard the grunts and thuds. The screams.

Release him. She jolted into action, crawling on the ground, until she reached Cato. His chair was on the ground. He must have made it fall over before Cassius threw the orbs. Small shards embedded in his face and along his arms, but because his chair was on the ground most of them missed him.

Prim frantically pawed at his bonds, pulling and stretching in her panic. She ripped the gag out of his teeth.

"Calm, little bird... think," Cato reminded. Prim stopped, chest still heaving despite the effort. She concentrated then on the knots.

"You're wounded," Cato said softly. She was. She felt the stings in her skin, second only to the horror in her belly. She managed to get one of his hands free, and it came up and cupped her cheek, brushing away a droplet of blood as Prim worked on the rest. One bond undone, then a second, and then a third.

When the last chain fell, he reached out and gave a searing kiss. She felt it in her bones, giving her oxygen to go forward. The contact like coming up for air after drowning. He stood up.

"Stay down until it's over."

Most of the soldiers lay bleeding and disfigured on the ground, one clearly dead, one almost. Cassius grappled on the ground, rolling and slamming around with a soldier. Two more joined, and Prim saw that Cassius was quickly losing.

Gale stood off to the side, clutching his stomach, shaking his head, as if still trying to get his bearings. He'd be up soon. His wounds looked superficial from what she could see. He only needed to push through the battle haze, and he'd be another threat.

"Say your prayers," Cato growled. "The beast is free."

He walked calmly to the melee, ripping one of the soldiers up in the air and then slammed him into the ground, pressing against his trachea while snarling in his face. The man's face went red then purple, darker and darker, the veins popping in his eyes, face swelling.

Prim refused to watch, remembering her other mission.

The deactivation button. She crawled to the control panel, scrambling over Snow's snoring body, resisting the desire to kick it as she passed. The sleeping potion was pulling her under. Darkness slithered near the edge of her eyesight, slowly closing in. She blinked to orient herself and then slapped her cheek, the pain giving a shot of adrenaline that gave her just enough energy to heave herself up near the control panel and into a standing position. She wavered on her feet, her mind zapping behind her eyes, making her forget what she was even here for. The darkness began to look pleasant, her muscles lulled into complacency.

She brewed it, knowing full well the effects. She only had a few minutes left, if that.

Black button on the far right. It was the only things that mattered. The only thing she forced herself to repeat. She bit her tongue hard to give herself feeling.

She saw it. Small. Unassuming, hidden in plain sight, surrounded by ordinary buttons, hidden in the same manner as the control room. Clever, clever devil.

Her fingers inched forward to push it but stopped when another pair of fingers wrapped over hers, threading themselves together as if they were lovers.

Gale's scruff brushed against her cheek. Prim gave a sudden sob in frustration, knowing she didn't have much more energy. He was stealing the final moments, and he knew it too.

"I'm sorry, Prim," he said. "You have to believe me. I never wanted to hurt you, but I was backed into a corner."

"What did he promise you?"

"You."

He twisted her around. He held both her shoulders, keeping her upright, their lips just inches apart.

"He promised to kill Cato and keep you alive. We both would be granted pardons if you renounced the rebellion in front of the camera. We could have gone and lived our lives in peace." He glanced down at Snow's body.

"I wouldn't have done it. I would rather die."

He smiled, as if it was what he wanted to hear all along.

"You're so much like her now… Katniss." He said. "She would be proud."

He was giving her the same look he gave her after waking up in District 13, as if she had transformed. It was fevered and crazed along the edges. He looked at her as if she would be the balm to his soul, the medicine to heal him.

But this was one wound Prim would not and could not heal.

She knew what she needed to do.

"I loved you." She cried, trying to keep herself awake and sane. "You were everything to me. I would have married you and meant it."

Something in his eyes fell with her words.

"We could still be all of those things. I've tried to convince you. What else do you need?"

And now for the final stroke. The sword. The power that a girl can wield in the absence of weapons.

"Show me," Prim sobbed, "Just fucking show me you mean it."

Prim did not know what happened in the background. Gale's lips crashed into hers frantically. This time she kissed back. In her final moments of strength, she pulled him closer by his jacket, and he moaned into her mouth.

"Katniss," he said on accident.

Prim didn't correct him, as she kissed him harder.

The kiss distracted him just enough that she could flip open her ring. She lunged away from his body and with the surprise he let go. And the she pressed the ring Lux gave to her to his arm. His body seized up and shook, teeth chattering in his skull. She pressed until he crumpled to the ground. She did not know if he lost consciousness, but it did not matter.

She looked up in time to see Cato sliding a knife out of the jaw of the last standing soldier. Blood gurgled out of the man's mouth, dripping onto the floor.

Prim's eyes searched the ground and then gasped, seeing Cassius curled to the right of the room, a dead soldier beside him. He clutched his stomach and with each move more blood poured out. It came out of his mouth too, dripping down the sides. His glasses were askew. Their eyes met, and she knew it then—he was dying, too fast for anybody to save.

"Oh, Cassius," Prim said. Cato snapped out of his blood lust. His head twisted and stared at his brother, mouth open as if trying to process in his head that it was real.

"No!" Cato dropped the soldier's dead body. He rushed to his brother and leaned beside him, pressing down hard on his stomach. The blood seeped through the cracks in his fingers no matter how much pressure he applied.

"I…" Cassius started and then coughed out blood, splattering crimson on his brother's shirt. "I don't want to be saved." Cassius free hand went up and cupped his brother's cheek. "I've lasted this long, and I don't know how I have. Every day is a goddamn challenge to get out of bed. But I couldn't leave it before. Not with Coral in danger. Not with Snow still alive. But now… I can finally rest."

Cato's eyes narrowed at his brother.

"What the fuck are you rambling on about?" Thick tears dripped down Cato's face.

With his last vestiges of strength Cassius glanced at Prim, and she saw regret and fear. The abyss stood before him, and every man is afraid of the leap in the end, even a Carthage.

"The riddle was for you too." Every word was labored. "You once forgave the girl I loved moments before her death, and I hope you can do the same for me. You need to end it, Prim. Set it right. Remember… even the districts can produce a Snow. Just don't—don't let Cato press—"

He didn't finish the sentence. The blood frothed at his lips, little bubbles forming and popping as he made an odd choking noise. His whole body tightened and then loosened. Cato pressed his forehead to his brothers' giving a strangled cry, rocking the dead body. Seeing him grieve broke everything inside Prim, but it only hardened her resolve.

Cassius planned to betray her a second time. She knew this now. She understood what he asked of her at the end—someone had to do it, and he didn't want his brother to die.

Don't let Cato press the button, is what he tried to say.

Pressing the deactivation button would release something nasty. A booby-trap. Prim wondered if the surprise Snow had warned her of was the booby-trapped deactivation button or Gale's betrayal.

Prim thought about it briefly, and then nodded her head, making up her mind. The consequences of failure were too steep. The deaths of her loved one, her sons holding swords in a future game. What is her death in the grand scheme of thing?

Prim turned and put a finger to the black button.

She glanced back at Cato. He looked up, and his face drained of color as realization dawned. She saw what her death would do to him. It would slice him in two, mutilate any happiness. He'd have nightmares of this moment and blame himself. And she wouldn't be there to pull him out of the grief.

"No," he whispered. "Don't you dare."

"Our children deserve a free Panem. I love you, Cato Carthage, and don't you ever forget it."

Prim pressed down, and in the millisecond before a bullet came out of the panel in front of her and slammed in her chest, she realized it was the first and last time she ever told Cato she loved him. Without prompting. Without pleasure. She meant the three words more than anything in the world.

She didn't have long to think. The bullet shattered her chest. The pain was sudden and complete. The Darkness won quick, a mixture of death and a sleeping potion.

Her last conscious thought was feeling strong hands pick up her head. A flash of icy blue eyes met hers before the dark overcame.

"Don't die, little bird," his voice like iron. "Don't you dare fucking die. I'll tear you down from the clouds of heaven, if I have to." Her whole body was lifted into his arms. Lips on her cheek. "Stay with me."

Too late, she wanted to whisper, but then everything vanished as if her whole consciousness was nothing in the first place.