I cannot thank everyone enough for the support this story has received! I'm really enjoying writing it, and was really pleased to see all of the new follows, reviews, and favorites, and sooo I decided to post this chapter early! Thank you everyone, again!

Katniss broke through and fell below consciousness multiple times before finally staying awake. She found herself with Beetee once again, this time unrestrained, and her mind was a muddled mess.

Something was wrong.

Where were the others?

Peeta, Finnick, Enobaria... And, two more? Chaff or Brutus or Ramsey or Johanna? Two cannons had gone off, who was still alive?

She took hesitant steps, her body feeling strange as she moved forward.

"Peeta.." Her voice was hoarse from the blow inflicted by Ramsey's elbow.

Ramsey..

She hated Ramsey. She wanted Ramsey dead. With any luck, she had been one of those cannons.

Her eyes fell to her left forearm where Ramsey had gouged out her flesh, noting the thick bandages.

She contemplated killing Beetee as she passed by him, deciding against it for fear of being discovered before she could find Peeta. A syringe caught her attention as she slipped the makeshift weapon beneath a layer of bandages.

She crept down a hallway, pressing herself against a wall before a door held slightly ajar.

Knowing what kind of things the Capitol did, she knew she had to be miles underground, perhaps beneath the training center.

She listened as voices arose from the crack in the door.

"Communications are down in Seven, Ten, and Twelve. But Eleven has control of transportation now, so there's at least a hope of them getting some food out." The voice belonged to Plutarch Havensbee, a chill ran down her spine.

Another voice spoke, it belonged to a woman- no- a girl. But it was too low and scratchy for her to try and pinpoint it.

"I've told you, I hardly have any communication with the Capitol right now. I don't know where she is. I'm sorry, Ramsey."

Ramsey.

Ramsey was in there, with Plutarch.

Katniss felt the anger rise inside of her, Ramsey was in on it all along.

Someone else spoke. A man.

And then another.

"Don't be stupid! Enough, from both of you. Our biggest issue right now is when she finds out about the boy."

Haymitch!

Haymitch was in there too. And what boy?

Her confusion reached its peek and she flung herself into the room. A long table stretched before her, Plutarch Havensbee and Haymitch to one side, Finnick on the other. And seated beside him, carefully tucked into his side, was none other than Ramsey Clyde.

Both were in horrible condition. Both clad in tattered clothing and bandages.

Ramsey's ponytail had been recently thrown back up again, positioned high on her head as the bandages littered her small frame.

Though they each sported matching wraps around their forearms, much like Katniss' own.

"Done knocking yourself out, sweetheart?" Haymitch smirked at Katniss, unleashing the anger that had been festering within her.

She flung herself at him, yielding the syringe with a vengeance. He caught her wrists easily, stopping her in her tracks and pushing her against the nearest wall.

"So it's you and a syringe against the Capitol? See, this is why no one lets you make the plans." Haymitch rolled his eyes at her.

Plutarch chuckled, Katniss' wild eyes shooting in his direction.

"Drop it." Haymitch continued to apply pressure to her hand until the syringe was released, shaking his head at her.

"Sit." He commanded, pointing to a chair across from Plutarch.

"Don't put her near me." Ramsey's voice was hoarse, an abnormality in comparison to her typically silky sound.

Her eyes were puffy, the whites strained red- an obvious tell that she had been crying. Her jaw was set, her lips a thin line that pointed downwards in the corners.

Something was brutally different about her.

Haymitch sighed and ushered Katniss to the head of the table, Finnick reaching over to tenderly rub Ramsey's upper arm. Her eyes found something on the table to stare at, the small blonde not even responding to his touch.

"Katniss, I'm going to explain what happened. I don't want you to ask any questions until I'm through. Do you understand?"

She nodded slowly and listened.

There was a plan to break them out of the arena from the moment that the Quarter Quell was announced. The victor tributes from districts 3, 4, 6, 7, 8, and 10 all had varying degrees of knowledge in regards. Plutarch Havensbee had been, for several years, a part of an undercover group that aimed to overthrow the Capitol. The wire had been strategically placed in the arena for Beetee to blow a hole through the forcefield, and the bread had brought secret codes as to when the best time to carry out the plan was. The hovercraft they were all riding in belonged to District 13, which is where they were going. And while this was all taking place, a good portion of Panem was thrown into rebellion.

"You didn't tell me." Her voice was ragged, much like Ramsey's.

"Neither you nor Peeta were told. We couldn't risk it," Plutarch shrugged, "I was even worried you might mention my indiscretion with the watch during the Games."

He pulled out his pocket watch and ran his thumb across the crystal, lighting up the mockingjay.

"Of course, when I showed you this, I was merely tipping you off about the arena. As a mentor, I thought it might be a first step toward gaining your trust. I never dreamed you'd be a tribute again."

She stared at him for a moment, processing what he had said. "I still don't understand why Peeta and I weren't let in on the plan." She was bitter. Had Peeta and her known about it, they would've been able to take care of each other even more.

"Because once the force field blew, you'd be the first ones they'd try to capture, and the less you knew, the better."

Haymitch needed her to understand, he needed her to be ready for what was going to be asked of her.

"The first ones? Why?" Katniss raised an eyebrow, she was hearing the words they were saying, but not understanding what any of it meant.

"Are you kidding?" Ramsey couldn't hold it in anymore. Her fists slammed onto the table in rage, pushing herself to stand and her mouth twisted in disgust.

"Ramsey, don't-" Finnick's gentle hands came out, carefully grasping her small waist. She wriggled from his grasp and stared at Katniss, her face glowing red.

"You'd be the first they wanted for the exact same reason we all agreed to die to protect your ass!"

"No! You and Johanna tried to kill me."

"No! We-"

"Johanna knocked you out so Ramsey could rip your tracker from your arm, and to lead Brutus and Enobaria away from you." Haymitch finally interjected, fearing what may come of the two screaming girls.

"What?" Katniss leaned forward, her eyebrow raised with her confusion.

Ramsey stood for a moment more, her stare trained on Katniss' face with absolute hatred.

"Ramsey, come here, don't-" Finnick's words were broken as Ramsey's small body crashed into his, her sobs beginning instantaneously. She clung to the fabric of his chest as he brought his hands to her back, rubbing soothing circles against her spine.

Katniss watched on with wonder for a moment, her mind still cloudy.

"We had to save you because you're the mockingjay, Katniss. And while you live, the revolution lives." Plutarch cut in, going straight to the facts.

The room fell silent, albeit Ramsey's muffled tears and Finnick's "shh"-ing into her hair.

"Where's Peeta?"

No one knew what to say. Finnick refused to be the one to answer, having his hands full with Ramsey. He relished in her newly found affection towards him and the fact that she chose him to seek solstice in, but he ached for her, his sympathy overcoming all of it.

"Katniss, you were our main priority." Plutarch attempted, Katniss' glare silencing him.

"Where is he?"

It fell silent again.

"The Capitol picked him up. Along with Enobaria, and," Haymitch paused for a moment, his eyes falling to Ramsey's sobbing form before training back to Katniss, "and Johanna."

Katniss didn't wait for anymore before she launched herself across the table and at Haymitch. She clawed at his face, drawing blood immediately, before Plutarch could grab her. She thrashed against his hold and soon even Finnick had to release Ramsey and hurry to help the men contain her.

They carried her into the previous room, laying her on the table and strapping her down once more. She smashed her head against the metal, Haymitch shaking his head at her in disappointment. They injected her with a sedative, her body slowly giving into the drug.

"Katniss, I'm sorry, I tried to get him and Johanna I really did, I tried." Finnick pleaded, his guilt overcoming him.

Ramsey had known what to expect going into it, she too had been affected by the blast when the arena was destroyed, she knew that Finnick had genuinely tried and that it was just impossible to grab everyone. But Katniss, Katniss couldn't even put into perspective the fact that he had tried and he couldn't physically do it.

But she soon fell unconscious and the men sighed, re-entering the meeting room.

They landed in District 13 soon enough, though Katniss had gone numb to the world long before. She changed into the drab uniforms they were provided and locked herself away in her room. No one had seen her for days.

All of Finnick's time was spent with Ramsey, though he couldn't say he minded. She was finally starting to let him in and he was ecstatic.

Ramsey Clyde was a beautiful human being, from head to toe, inside and out. And he was the one that was getting to experience her firsthand. They spent most of their first couple days in Ramsey's room, simply talking.

"Tell me, Ramsey, how did you and Johanna come to be friends?" Finnick sat beside her, the two sitting the wrong way on her bed, their backs against the wall and their feet dangling over the side.

He allowed for Ramsey to call the shots, moving at whatever pace she wanted, coming close only when she asked him to. And that day, she had requested he join her on the bed, though their shoulders just barely brushed.

She pondered his question for a moment, pursing her lips as her eyes roamed across the cement ceiling.

"Well, we met on my victory tour. Every other victor up until that point hadn't even given me a second glance, they were all either disgusted with me, or afraid of me." Her voice was quiet and raspy, her crying had taken its toll on her vocal chords, though Finnick held onto every word.

"But not Johanna, she was good to me. She pulled me aside before my speech and hugged me, she said she was proud of me," she giggled, "she said she was flattered that I used her survival tactics as well as I had." She giggled for a moment more and shook her head, slowly leaning it against Finnick's shoulder.

He grinned down at her, tenderly patting her leg and allowing them to fall into a comfortable silence.

"Did you see each other frequently, outside of the Hunger Games?"

He wanted to hear her talk more, he wanted to know more. He wanted to know everything about her, to finally figure out what went on inside of her brain, to find out just what made her tick.

"Oh, yes! We visited each other quite frequently. I preferred going to Seven to see her, though. Ten is just, hm, how do say it? Ten isn't the kind of place you go for a, vacation, so to say. I love the forests in Seven, they're quite lovely. Have you ever seen them?"

Sometimes, like that time, Ramsey allowed for herself to go off on tangents like that. Finnick loved those moments. Those moments when for just a moment, he could really see the world through her eyes.

He learned within those first couple of days with Ramsey that she didn't see the world how he had once imagined. There had been a point in time when he believed that Ramsey saw the world in a very dark way, that she found little happiness in anything.

But it wasn't true. Ramsey thought most things were beautiful, she even enjoyed a great number of things.

The Games, though, they changed people. Despite how much they had taken their toll on her, though, Ramsey still found beauty in some of it.

"No, I don't think I have seen them. Could you tell me about Ten? About your home?"

Ramsey sighed and nestled herself closer to him, resting her cheek against his collarbone. He carefully snaked an arm around the small of her back, providing support for her small body.

Finnick could feel her calm breathing against his chest and neck, closing his eyes for just a moment of content.

"Well, what is there to tell?" She grinned against him, her attempts at avoiding the subject obviously futile.

"Miss Ramsey," he warned, a small smirk playing on both of their lips as she sighed once more.

"Hm, we're livestock, as you know. Meaning, they're everywhere. Cows, and pigs, and anything you could think of. They're just, they're everywhere, Finnick."

His name had begun to slide off of her tongue beautifully, she liked the feeling of it and he liked the sound of it. Even with her voice slightly gone, it was still entrancing to him.

He chuckled at her choice of words and she released a small giggle before continuing.

"We lived right on the edge of the district, but we liked it like that. Not everyone was very polite. I mean, how could you possibly focus on manners when all your living is based on raising something to kill it? It's what I wonder about the people of the Capitol. Just think about it. They 'provide' for the districts, they keep them alive, so that they can kill them with the Games. It's just a little morbid, don't you think?"

He nodded in agreement with her.

"Who was 'we'?"

"Hm?" His question caught her off guard.

"Who was 'we'? Who did you live with?"

She fell quiet.

He knew that question would stump her, but he wanted to know. He had a right at this point, didn't he? He couldn't deny the way that Ramsey made him feel, and he knew that she couldn't deny it either. They had something very special going on, anyone could see it. He deserved to know about her, to know the Ramsey Clyde that Johanna knew.

Finnick had almost thought that she had fallen asleep on him by the time that she answered.

"My mother, Zane, and myself."

Her voice was quiet, her words sharp. It was the most painful subject of her existence and she almost felt dirty just uttering the ideas of their existence.

"Your father?"

"He died in a factory accident."

"Tell me about your mother, and Zane."

She sighed again, burrowing closer to him once more before beginning.

"My mother was beautiful. My father had always told me I looked just like her, but I never saw it. She taught me how to be a lady, how to mind my manners, how to spark an interest from others, how to keep a conversation going. She always said that when I was born, she promised herself that she would raise the finest little lady that anyone would ever meet. But she wasn't strict. She was loving, and compassionate."

"She sounds lovely."

Ramsey nodded in agreement, her eyes growing glossy and stormy with emotion.

"What about Zane, what was he like?"

Ramsey subconsciously grinned, happy memories flooding through her mind.

That was something she really truly liked about Finnick. He made her recognize the sad truth of some things, but ultimately he made her think of good things. Just his presence made her life easier, he made being happy something natural. Even when her entire world had entirely crumbled to smithereens, he made it okay.

"He was wild. And handsome, and brave, and smart, and strong. He wanted so much more than all of this. And he deserved it. Oh Finnick, he deserved so much more than what Panem had to offer. He saw the corruption, he saw everything that was wrong. But he wanted to fight for better, he wanted to lead the way to something new- something great. And he tried. But they stopped him. They killed him, Finnick, I know they did."

He felt a hot tear seep through his shirt and to his skin, he knew she had said more than she wanted to.

"Shh, it's okay, Ramsey. Thank you for telling me all of this, thank you very much." He rubbed circles on her back and over her hair, soothing her as she allowed more tears to fall.

He knew that things weren't okay, and that they wouldn't be for a while. But having Ramsey in his arms, having her right there in the flesh and knowing that she was with him, and that she was safe- that was enough to keep him going, to keep him looking forward, towards something better for her, something better for them.