A/N: Well this is embarrassing. I was reading back through the chapters I have posted, and realized that I'd made a mistake. After a long, introspective face palm, it seems I had somehow skipped posting this chapter, as well as the previous one. Hopefully this helps to explain things if there were any lingering questions about plot holes. Whoops!


Peeta

Haymitch likes to say I've become President Coin's bitch, ever since I accepted her terms to step up and help with the rebel propaganda; he thinks I have given up all of my negotiating power by giving in to Coin's demands early on. I'm wondering if I preferred him before he got sober.

But its Katniss.

And I love her.

Even if Katniss never loves me the way I wish she would, I owe her my life. She has saved me more than once, and even if I hated her, I could never leave her behind to rot in the Capitol.

After I agreed to Coin's terms, I reiterated that she needed to publicly hold herself accountable for mounting a rescue mission to save the captured victors, and that they would be granted immunity upon their arrival in District 13. Thankfully, she held up her end of the bargain, calling a mandatory district-wide meeting the following morning. I found Finnick in the crowd, where he stood with the other patients from the infirmary who were well enough to walk to the central meeting area.

I sidled up next to him and assured him in a low voice, "I made the deal for Annie and Johanna too, Finn. I told Coin she needed to plan an extraction and made sure they would all be pardoned."

At the mention of Annie, he took his eyes off Coin and turned his head to me. "That's good. Thank you, Peeta." Finnick narrowed his eyes suddenly, "What did she ask you for in exchange?"

I was not surprised he inferred that Coin wouldn't be doing this out of the kindness of her heart. Anyone who has interacted with District 13's president for any length of time understands that she would never do so.

"She wants me to participate in Plutarch's propaganda to help build up support for the Rebellion. I don't exactly know what that consists of, but I think we'll be going to District 12 to get footage," I admitted, crossing my arms across my chest. The idea of going home to 12 was devastating, but I knew it needed to be done.

"I want to help," Finnick replied immediately, his tone leaving no room for argument. "I need to get out of the infirmary before I actually do lose my mind. And if us participating helps to get our girls out of the Capitol…. Well, I'll do whatever it takes."

I let him know I'd pass along his message to Plutarch, who was really the only person that could bend the President's ear about this type of thing. And I was correct, because not two days later, Finn ambled on to the training field during a morning of scheduled physical education. While he was a bit out of shape due to his convalescence in the hospital, he still cut an intimidating figure – especially when he was given time to practice with a weapon.

A week later we are unceremoniously dropped down into the ruins of District 12. Finnick, Haymitch, Gale, and I are accompanied by Plutach's propaganda team and Commander Boggs. The film crew are all expatriates from the Capitol, and I can see why Plutarch has recruited them to help with this project. They are all sympathetic and respectful of our feelings as we arrive in the rubble that used to be our district. Cressida is their director - her tattoos and shaved head are the only real indicators of her Capitol heritage - and she asks insightful questions with kindness and compassion. For the most part, she allows us to wander the destroyed remnants of our former home without pushing us to speak about what we see.

Eventually, I summon the courage to make my way over to where my family's bakery once stood. The only parts that remain are the industrial ovens and the storefront sign bearing my last name that lays atop a pile of charred bricks. I exhale a long, low breath that I can feel in my toes, and let my eyes wander over the debris that has become my family's tomb. Are my parents' bodies in there? Were they watching the broadcast when the firebombs were dropped? Were they thinking of their youngest son, relieved that perhaps he would escape the same fate that befell them? Are my brothers in there as well? Or were they away from home during their final moments? Did they blame me for what happened to them? I know I'll never have the answers to these questions, but nevertheless, I can't help but wonder.

Finnick comes up behind me, purposefully making his steps audible so as not to disturb me in my grief. He doesn't need me to tell him the significance of where we stand, he can surmise as much when he sees the sign for Mellark's Bakery.

"I lost my family a couple of years after my Games," he offers, keeping his gaze straight ahead. "Snow had them killed in a 'boating accident' when I was sixteen and mentoring in the Capitol."

"Why?" I manage to croak out.

"Why does he kill anyone? Serves his purposes." I can see Finnick shrug out of the corner of my eye. "When his victors don't do what he wants, he puts them in their place. Why did he kill my family? Yours? Johanna's? Why did he bomb 12? Why keep Katniss and Annie as prisoners? It's not like either of them are a fountain of information about the Rebellion. It's because it breaks us."

We stand in silence for a few minutes, letting his words settle in the space between us. Katniss is all I truly have left to fight for, and Annie and Johanna are all Finn has.

I hear Cressida begin to question Gale about the night of the attack on 12, and eventually she prompts him to send a message to Katniss. Finnick and I make our way towards the rest of the group so we can add our own encouragements; we can only hope our words reach her eventually, and that she understands I'm coming for her. Always.


Ten days after the first interviews with Caesar Flickerman air, the loud series of alerts announcing a mandated Capitol broadcast sounds throughout the cafeteria. Finnick is picking at his food next to me with a detached lack of enthusiasm, but he whips his head up as the first tone sounds. I used to feel so desperately indifferent to these Capitol programs, but now that I've glimpsed Katniss, I find I'm glued to the screens just like Finn, anxiously hoping that I'll get to see the person I love.

I notice Gale sitting a few tables away with some of his buddies from the mines, shooting glances at the oversized screen every few seconds. He's trying to pass himself off as disinterested, but I recognize his hopeful expression.

It's the same one as my own.

I white-knuckle it through Caesar's generic introduction, willing him to move it along and let me know whether I'll get to see her face tonight. Finally – finally – he reveals that his guest for the evening is victor Katniss Everdeen, who will be speaking with me about the latest heinous acts committed by the radicals. His choice of words leaves no doubt to how the Capitol is constructing its own propaganda – Snow blames the rebels for any fighting in the districts, then he has Katniss condemn them, even as she is lifted up as the symbol of the Rebellion, thereby sowing distrust and creating confusion amongst our side. I'm about to turn to get Finn's opinion as to how Coin is going to counter this tactic, when I freeze in my seat.

Because at last I see her face, and my heart shatters.

Oh…Katniss.

The Katniss on the screen looks more like the eleven-year-old to whom I threw a couple of burned loaves of bread years ago in the rain, than the woman I saw speaking with Caesar just over a week ago. She looks like the ghost of my Katniss Everdeen.

She has inexplicably changed in those ten days. The most striking thing is how thin she is; she looks like she's been afflicted with the lung sickness that strikes every winter in 12 - all her bones are sticking out sharply against her skin and it appears to take concentrated effort for her to breathe. Her olive skin is pale and grey, like it hasn't been touched by the sun in months. Her hair is thin and looks as though it could break off in my hand if I grasped it too hard. The most nightmarish thing about the girl on the screen though, is that they have still dressed her up as though nothing is wrong. They're trying to pass her off as the same healthy victor she was before and refusing to acknowledge the changes they've caused to her physical appearance. But no amount of ball gowns and stage makeup could possibly cover up what has been done to Katniss.

Finnick sums up everything I'm thinking and feeling in one harsh utterance under his breath. "Shit."

I take a moment to quickly glance around the cafeteria and am beyond relieved when I see that Katniss's mother and Prim aren't here. It would devastate them to see her like this. I harbor no doubt that they will eventually see this footage of her, but right now Katniss is all I can bear to focus on; taking care of Prim and Mrs. Everdeen will have to come later.

"How did she get so bad in such a short amount of time?" I lament, returning my gaze to the screen.

After a few beats of silence, Finnick replies, "My guess is they filmed the first interview right after the Quell. Which means…they've been doing this to her ever since." His mouth is set in a deep frown, and I know he is letting his imagination run foul as he thinks of all the harm that may have been done to Annie.

To imagine Katniss and the others being tortured for weeks on end makes me want to vomit up every single tasteless meal I've consumed while residing in the comfort of District 13. Katniss looks like she hasn't eaten a full meal this entire time; it's quite possible she hasn't. After the first interview aired, I held on to the hope that the Capitol was treating them well enough, at least for appearance's sake. No loyalist would ever want to see a victor harmed, especially if they came down on their side of the war. But it appears I was wrong, and I regret every moment of hope I've found comfort in since I last saw her face.

Katniss starts out the interview as I would expect her to; she's being led in conversation by Caesar, and she is attempting to smile and banter with him. But her expression is brittle and false; every few seconds she looks as though she is trying to shift in her seat, but then she twitches and readjusts herself. She's obviously uncomfortable and is being forced to speak against her will. Is it possible that anyone is actually buying this charade?

Then I see the screen flicker and I wonder if it is happening on the Capitol's end as well, because I watch as Katniss glances off-camera, as though something is catching her attention.

"I think that's us," Finnick murmurs, leaning in close to me. "Beetee said they were going to try and hijack the next Capitol broadcast."

With his words, my heart is suddenly in my throat. I desperately hope we are able to get through the Capitol's firewall, and Katniss will see what is actually happening in the districts. That she will see I'm alive and fighting to bring her back to me.

Katniss is prompted by Caesar in an attempt to refocus her attention, and she continues to speak on the actions of the rebels, but now there's a small furrow between her eyebrows; she only makes this expression when she's concerned about something. She and I been through so many traumatic events in the last year, that I've become something of an expert on that brow furrow. She has noticed that something is off - I know it.

I'm starting to lose faith in Beetee's abilities to infiltrate the Capitol's technology and I've started muttering c'mon c'mon under my breath, when my own voice is suddenly projected across the interview up on the screen. Katniss turns her head to the side so quickly at the sound of my voice, the chair she's sitting in creaks loudly enough that I can hear it all the way from the Capitol.

She hears me.

Caesar tries to get her to keep talking, but Katniss is staring off-camera with tears in her eyes, and it seems she cannot be redirected. The feeling that grows in my chest from the expression on Katniss's face, is one that I will carry with me for the rest of my life. She looks so hopeful and relieved to hear my voice that I lose my ability to breath for a few moments.

And then I lose her once again.

The image of Katniss on the screen disappears and our video footage from District 12 replaces her. Now the rest of Panem will know that Finnick and I are alive, and that Snow destroyed the home district of his two most recent victors. But will Katniss? I have no idea because as soon as the video finishes with Finnick's message, the image cuts out and goes dark. How much did she get to see? Did they hurt her because of our actions tonight? My chest is cracking open with the possibility that perhaps we have just done more harm than good by reaching out to Katniss with our message of encouragement.

A chair clattering to the ground is what breaks the silence that had fallen over the cafeteria. Finnick is almost out the door before my mind catches up to his actions. I jump up from my own seat and give chase, calling out his name just before he rounds a corner twenty yards ahead of me.

"Slow down! Finn! What's happening?" I call, struggling to catch up to him. Even after more than a year with my prosthetic, I still have trouble running at the full speed I was once used to.

Finnick doesn't stop, but yells back over his shoulder to me, "We're going to Command - now! The Capitol won't have stopped filming what was going on during our propaganda. We need to see what was happening on the other side of the cameras. I need to know!"

"Are you sure? You think they kept filming her?" I don't want to get my hopes up, but if there's a way…. Odds-be-damned I need to know if what we did was worth it. If my bargain was just bought with Katniss's blood.

By this time Finnick has finally slowed down enough that I'm only a few yards behind him. He's obviously accommodating me, but I appreciate it nevertheless. "Yes," he answers. "The Capitol loves their cameras. If nothing else, they will want all the footage they can get of Katniss in case they need to use it later."

In case she can't be seen on camera anymore. In case she dies – that is what he really means.

With that thought echoing through my head, I double my stride towards Command.

Finnick blocks me from throwing open the doors with an arm across my chest. When I look at him for clarification on the fact that he is slowing me down, he simply says, "We'll catch more flies with honey, Peeta."

He knocks politely on the heavy door and we wait in silence for someone to let us in.

And wait.

And wait.

Odds, I'm about to leap out of my skin by the time Commander Boggs lets us in. "Solider Mellark, Soldier Odair," he greets, stepping aside for us to enter the room.

Finn practically meanders in, taking his sweet time, as though we're not here with an urgent purpose. I'm letting him take the lead on this, because I know that I'm already on thin ice with Coin these days, and I can't afford to let my temper tip me over the edge with her. Haymitch is here already, and from the expression on his face, I know he's seen the footage of Katniss's diminished state. Even Plutarch is sporting a frown while he writes something in the notebook he has positioned in front of him. The only person who doesn't seem affected by what we just witnessed is Coin. While not outwardly smiling, I can tell that she's more pleased with the interruption of the Capitol's broadcast than she is concerned with the appearance of the Capitol's prisoner.

"Soldiers," she greets amicably. "I trust you saw our successful transmission of Mr. Heavensbee's propaganda? I think the appearance of both of you will go a long way in rallying the districts to fight!" She looks over my shoulder before continuing, "The same goes for you, Soldier Hawthorne." I turn to see that Gale just entered Command as well; he must have followed as soon as he saw Finn and I tearing out of the cafeteria.

"Thank you, Madam President," he murmurs. And while he's still as deferential to the president as he always is, for the first time Gale seems less than enthusiastic about the success of the rebels' actions tonight.

"Is something wrong, Soldier Hawthorne?" Coin prompts when she picks up on his subdued mood.

I'm incredibly tempted to turn around again and raise an eyebrow at him. Gale should not need to be challenged on this; Katniss is his best friend, his love for her should always come before whatever loyalty he feels to Coin. Thankfully, he finds the guts to contradict President Coin's celebratory musings without any unwanted help from me and my big mouth.

"Well, Madam President…it's just…Katniss…," he trails off before he can really articulate fully what it is he's feeling.

Ok, not exactly what I was hoping for from him.

"Madam President," interrupts Finnick with a gentle, kind smile. Gone is my friend and fellow victor, and in his place is the Capitol playboy who knows how to get information out of anyone he wants. "That's actually why Peeta and I are here. We were very concerned when we saw Katniss's sudden decline in health, right before your incredibly successful takeover of the broadcast."

I have to hold back on rolling my eyes at him. Haymitch isn't as subtle – his eyes practically fall out of his head.

Coin narrows her gaze a bit in response; she suspects she's being played, but honestly, I don't think she cares.

Finnick continues on without pause. "When I used to do interviews with Caesar, I know that he always had a camera rolling on both his own face and mine, so they could cut together the best parts of the footage. I was hoping that you could ask Beetee to access the Capitol's system, so that we can see the video of Katniss while the shots from District 12 were aired."

"Why is that Solider Odair?" she asks.

"Well, honestly I'm concerned that the message may have been cut off before it got through to her. And while I agree it is incredibly important to get that footage to the districts, I worry that Katniss may not have seen the entirety of it. And part of the point of that propaganda was to show her that Peeta and I are still alive, and her family as well. We want her to know she doesn't have to protect us, and that she's able to openly support the Rebellion."

I have to hand it to him, Finnick Odair can be one charming bastard.

"He's right, Madam President," Heavensbee finally chimes in. "I'm sure Beetee can hack into the feed; they won't be as vigilant in protecting it against us, they won't see its value."

Coin sits for a few moments, tapping her fingers against the tight line of her lips. It's silent in the meeting room, but the tension practically screams in my ears. "Fine. Ask Mr. Latier to access the interview footage."

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding and glance over at Finn. He grants me a quick nod of understanding; he knows how thankful I am for his actions in this moment. If I had charged in half-cocked the way I was gearing up to, Coin never would have granted me my request purely on principle.

The anxiety in the room does not dissipate while the orders are relayed to Beetee, who is in some other part of the underground district. Gale moves to sit at the large table, settling across from Haymitch, who has started drumming his fingers against its surface. Finn begins a quiet conversation with Plutarch, while Boggs and Coin resume their own discussion about battle plans in the districts. I can't settle. I feel like I did after I hit the forcefield in the Quell arena – every bit of me aching to twitch with extra energy, electrified with my own fear.

Tick…tock…tick…tock…

Each moment that passes feels like an age, and I realize in this instance that I will never escape the Games. Even if I live through this war, if I manage to grow old and gray, I won't ever leave the arenas that have come to define so much of my life up until this point. If Katniss never comes back to me, I will spend every second of the rest of my life searching for her in my own mind. I will slowly turn into Finnick or Haymitch, letting the ghosts of my past haunt me until I can't even hear the quiet sounds of a ticking clock without wanting to break down in despair.

Finally, the large screen in Command lights up with the image of Caesar Flickerman. He runs through his introduction and Katniss's face appears onscreen. Even though I thought I was prepared for her appearance, I can't help my sharp intake of breath at the painful portrait that she presents. I can see Haymitch's jaw clench, and he rubs his hand across it as if to soothe the tension out while he takes in Katniss. Plutarch averts his gaze from the screen and looks down at the table as he listens to Katniss answer Caesar's carefully crafted inquiries about the rebels' actions.

Gale's expression is unreadable, except for the small frown he sports as he quickly assesses every bit of evidence of his friend's failing health. While Gale has never fought in an arena, he is more intimate with starvation, and has born witness to Katniss's own ill-health while growing up in the Seam; he knows just as well as I do that if the Capitol keeps up this treatment of Katniss, she will die by their hands.

I still cannot force myself to sit at the table, so I take to standing off to the side of the viewing screen, my arms crossed against my chest as though I can hold myself together through this onslaught of pain. We go through the footage that we saw earlier in the evening, and I'm struck once again by how obvious it is that Katniss is under duress. "Haymitch," I call over my shoulder. "Do you see it?" Even though I don't turn to look at him, I know he understands what I'm referring to.

"Mhm," he agrees tightly.

"See what?" Gale asks, his tone implying he's got no patience for cryptic exchanges tonight.

Haymitch answers him, allowing me to keep my eyes on the screen - on Katniss. "The girl's being forced," he murmurs. "She's off."

"Maybe she's been tortured?" Pluatrach poses.

"Obviously she's been tortured, Plutarch," Haymitch snaps. "You'd have to be an imbecile to not see that." I already knew this, but a lightning bolt of pain still shoots through my chest at the confirmation of my suspicions. "She's jolting," he continues. "Like she's trying to adjust herself the way she normally does when she's being interviewed, or the spotlight is on her. But she can't for some reason."

Then suddenly, the recording of my voice echoes throughout the room. Katniss turns quickly, trying to locate me, and my heart breaks for her. Odds, she looks so scared. Katniss has never been keen on showing her emotions, so if her fear is close enough to the surface that I can detect it through an interview, it means she must be utterly terrified.

My heart breaks a little bit more. I'll be surprised if there is anything left of it by the end of the night.

Caesar just manages to get her back on track when the image of her cuts out and District 12 appears on screen. Unlike before though, the screen splits into two videos, and we're able to watch both scenes unfold simultaneously. I'm walking through the rubble of 12, and Katniss's eyes are widening and filling with tears. She looks as though she's seen a ghost, and while I can hear Caesar trying to get her attention, she can't seem to take her eyes off the video in front of her. Then she calls out my name, her eyes lighting up as though she has just been granted every wish she's ever made. Me, I realize; she is looking at me that way. While I would trade places with her a thousand times over so as to spare her the suffering she is obviously going through, I can't help but feel a small spark of joy at the knowledge that it is me who has cracked through the Capitol façade she's been wearing to reach through to the true Katniss underneath.

Finnick appears on screen, and at the sight of him Katniss chokes out what I think is a laugh. She's smiling as the tears fall freely down her face. I turn to Finn and he's grinning broadly at her reaction. The two of them are so similar to one another, and although Katniss never said anything explicitly, I know they forged a bond during our time in the Quell.

If possible, Gale's frown is even more pronounced. He's never warmed to Finnick and seems to have retained his position of mirroring Katniss's initial distrust of the playboy victor. While the Games pit tributes against one another, they also form a connection between those of us that have survived them. So, while I'm sure seeing her ecstatic reaction to Finn can't make much sense to him, I understand exactly what she's feeling. She is relieved, elated, and exultant that he too has lived to fight another day. Finnick is one less death on her shoulders, and one more person out in the world who can unquestioningly comprehend what she has been through.

I watch as she realizes what has befallen District 12, and I know her panic over the fate of her family must be overwhelming. She looked like this when the Peacekeepers murdered the old man in 11 during the Victory Tour – helpless and on the edge of screaming. I know Gale will eventually be reassuring her, but I want him to move along in his story of 12's bombing to get there faster as I watch her descend deeper into dread with each passing moment. When he finally does send his message of her mother and sister's safety, I finally get my explanation of Katniss's twitching unease. She gasps loudly, and I see it.

She's bound. I see that her wrists are red and irritated as she brings her hands up to her face, covering her mouth as she lets out a garbled cry.

"Fuck," I mutter, and Haymitch says, "There it is," at the same time.

Why bind her even when she's being interviewed? She's too starved to fight back, and I doubt she would ever go after Caesar. Either Snow's just enough of a coward to not want to risk her taking a piece out of him, or he wants to scare her. Or perhaps both.

Her expression doesn't change much after that, but I know she absorbs the messages that Finn and I send to her. When the broadcast from the rebels cuts out, Caesar's face stretches out to fill the screen once again and he signs off the interview. But the camera on Katniss keeps rolling; I have a feeling this footage was never aired, but Beetee has done me a kindness by hacking into the raw video feed and continuing to play it in its entirety. Katniss appears shaken, continuing to stare away from the camera that's pointed at her, over to where she had just seen us. I know I'm about to lose sight of her, so I take in as much of her as I can while I am able. I make myself remember the smooth texture of her dark hair and the way the light would catch the specks of silver in her eyes when she smiled; the warmth of her skin when I'd lay with her late into the night, and the way she'd scowl at everyone except Prim.

All too soon I can detect the sound of stomping Peacekeeper boots, and then the anonymous hands of guards enter the screen. They disregard the fragility of Katniss's condition and haul her up from her seat, and we get another shot of her roughly bound wrists. Once she is gone from view, I hear fabric ripping and her own sharp cry, and I know that she is being hurt because of what we just did. While her spirit may be bolstered by our messages from District 12, her body is going to pay the price.

I turn my head to the side as the screen goes dark, and my eyes lock with Gale's. I don't know if we have the same answer, but I imagine we're both asking the same question: Was it worth it?


Coin doesn't allow us to linger for long before she invites most of us to leave her Command room. Plutarch remains at the table, while Haymitch wanders off down a corridor as soon as the president dismisses him. I'm debating finding a nook to hide myself away in when Finn clasps a hand on my shoulder.

"Come on," he urges simply, pulling me along with him in the opposite direction from where Haymitch disappeared to. "You too, Soldier," he calls out over his shoulder at Gale.

I can't imagine what he has planned for both Gale Hawthorne and I, but I've come to understand that Finnick knows what he's doing a thousand percent of the time more than I ever do.

Our unexpected trio ends up back in the cafeteria, now completely deserted at the completion of all the District 13 dinner shifts. Finn unceremoniously pushes me towards a table and heads off to the swinging doors that lead into the kitchens. Gale eyes me suspiciously before lowering himself into the chair across from me.

"What's Odair doing?" he complains.

"I have no idea," I reply honestly, looking down at my own hands that are clasped together on the table in front of me. I take a few moments to gather my thoughts before meeting Gale's gaze. "Your guess is as good as mine," I say, allowing a small smirk to curl the corner of my mouth.

"He still mentally unstable?" he asks brusquely.

I bristle at Gale's bluntly insensitive question. "No," I bite out. "He was never unstable, just…" I sigh deeply. "Losing Annie, Johanna, and Katniss to the Capitol…he's struggling with a lot of guilt. He's scared for them."

"Why does he care so much about the other victors?" he questions as he raps his fingers on the table.

Has no one really explained any of this to him? Why does it have to be me?

My thoughts must show on my face because his tone quickly becomes defensive as he spits out, "What Mellark?"

Alright, then…. One more reason to miss Katniss – this should be her job; I don't even like the guy.

I'm saved from having to speak for my friend as Finnick returns and sets down three steaming metal mugs in front of us.

"I see Coin and Plutarch are keeping information close to the chest, huh?" he inquires, his voice almost teasing. At Gale's own questioning frown, he explains, "Your voice carries."

I let out a small scoff that I'm sure Gale doesn't appreciate, and then look down at the drink in front of me. "Did you get coffee, Finn?" I ask, completely flabbergasted.

He nods with a self-satisfied expression on his face. "You just have to know who to sweet-talk."

I smirk, because I may be flabbergasted, but I'm certainly not surprised.

"Well Soldier Hawthorne -," Finnick begins with the same light-hearted tone.

"Gale," he interrupts. "Just call me Gale."

Finnick appraises him for a moment before acquiescing with another nod. "Alright, Gale. You want to know why I care about the imprisoned victors, even though we're all vicious killers who were trying to murder one another only a short time ago, yes?"

Gale's cheeks color slightly at Finnick's bland tone.

"I guess it's a fair question," Finn continues as he sips his coffee. "Well, Annie Cresta is my lover. Johanna Mason is my best friend. Enobaria and I suffered a similar fate during our time in the Capitol. And Katniss Everdeen is my fellow tribute. You saw how horrifying the Capitol intended the Quarter Quell to be – lovers, friends, family all at each other's throats. And while yes, we have all killed in the past and were asked to kill again, we still have something in common that overrides any bad feelings. All of us are victors."

Gale scoffs at this last statement. "I get it, you're all a part of this special club that no one understands you but the rest of you."

There are a few moments of silence following his derisive words; Finnick is examining Gale closely before he seems to come to some sort of conclusion. "Gale, are you…jealous?"

Now I'm about to laugh, because who would ever want to be a victor? We're a broken group of people, hunted by our peers in the arenas, and targeted by the Capitol the moment we step out of them.

But then Gale doesn't deny it.

"Odds, Gale," I mutter in horror.

"Shut up, Mellark!" he snaps viciously, baring his teeth like a wounded animal. "I don't want what the Capitol has to offer, I never have. But Katniss…. She was so different after you both won. We used to be so close, and I…I just wish I could understand her again." I know it has taken a lot for him to admit this to me; Gale never paid me much mind, until I came home holding the hand of his best friend - the girl both of us loved. And that bond between she and I only strengthened after the Quarter Quell was announced, because really – who else would know what it was like to go into a second Hunger Games besides another twice-reaped victor?

"Being a victor…it's the most exclusive club you never want to join," Finnick explains quietly, kindly. "And the Quell…. Odds, those of us that went into the Quell and managed to make it out? Well, we're even more rare - even more cut off from the rest of our kind. The odds were never in our favor." He pauses to take a sip of his coffee. "You have more questions?"

Gale thinks for a moment before sipping his own and making a face at its bitter taste. "Annie was the tribute that went mad, right?"

Gale Hawthorne certainly isn't going to win any awards for his bedside manner, I'll tell you that much. No wonder he's best friends with Katniss, the two of them would only offend anyone else who came along.

But Finn is a forgiving soul and gently nods in reply. "She was so stunning before the Games. I was her mentor," he recalls, a small smile playing at his mouth. A smile that hints at fond memories of a young girl who was once untouched by pain and sorrow. "Because I won my Games when I was so young, I was only a couple years older than her when she was reaped. Between the trainings and the interviews, we would stay up late and talk about what we would have wanted our lives to look like if we hadn't ended up in the Games. I'd be a fisherman - like my father, and she had wanted to take over her father's tavern with her brothers." He pauses for a moment and gives himself over fully to his grin. "She snuck up on me." Then he looks up and meets Gale's eyes across the table. "And then she went mad."

Gale has the decency to flinch slightly in response to his use of Gale's own words against him.

"She went mad, and I have been thankful for it every day since, because it meant that the Capitol lost interest in Annie Cresta. She does not have to go through the same hell as the rest of us; she just has to go through her own version of it."

Gale looks like he is about to ask for more details, when Finnick continues, "But that's a story for another day. Enobaria's story will have to wait as well…. Johanna next?"

"What did she mean during the Quell – about not having anyone left to love?" Gale asks.

I know this one; Haymitch told me this story one night before the Quell – as a warning.

"After Johanna's Games, she didn't behave the way Snow wanted her to. So, he killed her entire family." When Gale looks appalled by his words, Finn explains, "Its more common than you think. Johanna, myself, Haymitch, and now Peeta as well," and gestures in my direction. "I'd say about eighty percent of victors' families are murdered within five years after they win. The rest only lose one or two people they love before they grasp whatever message Snow is trying to send them. After that happened to Jo, I met her on her Victory Tour. Annie was having a good day and she was able to see what I couldn't – she saw Jo's spirit. Jo is a terrifying woman for sure, but she's also the most loyal friend you could ever have. Annie walked right up to this vicious ax-wielding murderer, took the drink from her hand, pulled her out on to the beach, and made her swim in the ocean at sunset with her. When Jo came to the Capitol to mentor for her next Games, we spent a lot of time together – talking about Annie mostly, who was safe at home in 4 – but we came to rely on each other. When I met Katniss, I knew immediately how similar they were."

I can't help but chuckle at the memory of the first time we met Johanna in the elevator of the Tribute Center, as well as the instant dislike Katniss bore towards her. "Katniss hated her," I relay to the other two men. "She thought Jo was insane because she stripped off her Parade costume and spoke to me completely naked in the elevator while Haymitch and Katniss just stood there in shock. Well, Katniss was in shock, Haymitch was enjoying the show."

Finnick lets out his own laugh, "She didn't like Katniss either – thought she was stuck up."

I smirk, "I know, I told her Johanna was messing with her."

"And Katniss?" Gale interrupts our exchange, obviously losing patience the further off-track we get with our memories. "She didn't seem to trust you in the Quell."

"Ha!" Finnick scoffs. "Of course she didn't! The only reason she didn't kill me in the bloodbath was this," he lifts his arm to show Gale the gold bracelet Haymitch gave him. "It belonged to Haymitch. He entrusted it to me to show her Haymitch wanted us to be allies. Tributes - especially tributes who are already victors - do not trust each other. Katniss and I are no different in that respect. The only trust that existed going into the Quell was between those of us who were part of the Rebellion, and really all we could do was try not to kill each other for as long as possible. And keep Katniss and Peeta alive."

"Why Peeta?" Gale grouses.

There's that charm, Hawthorne.

"No offense," he clarifies, tossing a look my way.

Finnick glances at me and gifts me with a subtle smirk of comradery. "Katniss wouldn't have tried to win – tried to stay alive at all – if she lost Peeta. We were all given explicit instructions by Plutarch to keep them both alive. They were a package deal. Still are, in my opinion. That's why it was so important to show her that we're alive. Katniss is a fighter, a victor. But she needs someone to fight for, whether it be Primrose or Rue or Peeta. She needs us to hold on to, until we can get her away from the Capitol; otherwise, she's not going to hold on at all."

Gale is silent for a few moments while he stares down at the table. Then he picks up his mug and drains it in a few quick pulls. He stands quietly, and says, "Thanks Odair. This coffee stuff is horrible, by the way," and walks out of the cafeteria without looking back.

Finnick and I sit in our own quiet while we both think about all the stories that have just been shared. Finally, he says, "I said some of that to get under Hawthorne's skin – the parts about Katniss and you."

I feel my stomach clench at this explanation. I thought that might be the case, but it still hurts to hear it confirmed. "Why?" I grumble.

"He bothers me," he answers simply, shrugging his shoulders. "But it doesn't mean it wasn't true. Katniss has always needed you, will always need you."

"It was always for the cameras," I protest, fiddling with my mug.

"Perhaps," he counters. "But you didn't see her when you hit the forcefield, when your heart stopped beating. Her genuine terror - she wouldn't have lived much longer if you hadn't woken up. And tonight - when she saw your face? Peeta, she saw me and Gale as well – but whose name did she say? Yours. It's you she needs, Peeta Mellark."

I don't want to believe Finnick, I can't afford to get my hopes up. And regardless of who she wants or what she feels, I need to get Katniss out of the Capitol. I can feel that time is running out, slowly slipping away from me and taking Katniss along with it.

A small voice nags at me though - is it wrong for me to want what Finnick says to be true? For Katniss to need me? To love me?

Perhaps it is wrong to hope for those things during times like these.

But Odds, I hope he's right.