After sometime of just sitting in silence on the train Effie sighed, "Shall we watch the recap of the reapings?" There was not much enthusiasm from any of their team, just nods and sighs of agreement.

They all gathered around the television. Peeta got out his notebook on the living victors and started marking off their competitors as the showed up on the screen. Effie made small comments here and there about a few victors and Haymitch just kept drinking.

Katniss tried to make some mental record of the other tributes, but like last year, only a few really stick in my head. The classic Careers, a beautiful brother and sister duo from District One: Gloss and Cashmere. They won when she was little, but she hardly remembered either of their games. Then, Brutus from Two; he was a little on the older side, but he had volunteered nonetheless clearly eager to get back in that arena. Then in District Four Finnick Odair, the handsome bronze-haired victor from Four who won at 14 and his partner was an elderly woman named Mags. I tuned out most of the rest, but Johanna Mason, the only female victor from Seven, stuck out. She won recently by pretending to be a weakling, making her games hard to forget. And finally, Emmer Buckwheat from Nine, who won the year before Johanna. Katniss couldn't remember her games or why she was so popular after. That was the first year Katniss had her name in the reaping and it had been a particularly busy year for Katniss. She had begun taking care of her family then, but she did remember Emmer being wildly popular during her victory tour. She had been crying through the whole reaping in Nine, and she looked so defeated when her name was called. Katniss felt for this girl, none of them deserved to be going back in, being in the games once was punishment enough.

Once the viewing was over Haymitch left without a word straight to his compartment and Effie quickly followed suit and said goodnight, mumbling about strategy bright and early, early. It was just her and Peeta.

Still looking at his notebook, Peeta said, "I'm going to stay up to take more notes. Need to know the right questions to ask tomorrow morning during our strategy meeting."

"Okay," Katniss realized right then, she wanted to comfort Peeta, but didn't know how. She started walking towards her compartment. "Hey Peeta?" The question hung on the tip of her tongue.

"Yes, Katniss." He didn't even look up.

"The female tribute from district 9, what's her story?" Katniss couldn't go to bed without knowing.

"Um, Emmer Buckwheat, right?" he looked up. "You don't remember her? She called us a couple of times a few weeks back. And sent her sympathy and support."

"What, why didn't I know that?" Katniss felt slightly betrayed, why was Peeta keeping this a secret and why was this victor calling her 'lover' but not her.

"I just assumed she called you, too. Well, she's got a nickname: Emmer the Reaper. It's because she used a grim reaper style scythe to kill her opponents in her games. The Capitol loved it and then her talent after the games was organ playing so that sort of fit, too."

This information didn't sit well with Katniss at all. Someone who wanted to a spectacle, a puppet for the Capitol and apparently thrived being one, that wasn't someone she wanted to face in there.

District Nine earlier that day...

I couldn't stop shaking. I sat in on my porch at 7:15 am waiting for my fellow victors to emerge from their houses. We were going to go to the reaping together, in solidarity, we were protesting in our own way, our execution. Our reaping was the first reaping on the day out of all the Districts and that meant we started at 8 o'clock sharp to stay on schedule.

To distract myself while I waited, I studied my dress. Maybe the one thing I would miss from the Capitol when I was dead: the comfort. This dress fit perfectly, unlike the reaping dress I worn the first time around. It was black, we had all agreed upon black as well, but my dress also had a red lining at the hem of the dress. It was an A-line dress and if I wasn't trying to dress for my own funeral I probably would have enjoyed the simple beauty of the dress. I had on black heels, I wanted to be able to stand tall throughout the reaping, even if I cried at least I had dressed the part of a brave victor.

Finally at a half past seven, Jem Thatcher, Greta Banner, Jane Tittle, and Blaze Hay all emerged somberly from their houses. That was it, the only victors of District Nine, all five of us. We were the only people from Nine in 75 years to have survived the games and two of us were about to go back in, the chances even slimmer that we would come home. I looked back at my house, for probably the last time, but felt emptier. It didn't feel like home, though, so it brought no comfort. I turned back to the people that did.

"Hey, you guys ready?" My voice cracked on the last syllable, and already I was inconsolable, but no one looked surprised. This had been happening for weeks every time we were together. Jem came forward and hugged me.

"I'm sorry, kid, I know neither of you wants this," he said knowingly, not daring to speak his name. "Let's go everyone."

As far as victors of the same district went, we were all considerably close, the five of us met once a month for dinner, and we all went to the Capitol together even when only two of us were required. We were a family. Jem had won to the thirty-sixth games and he was our rock, he couldn't go back in, the district would need him later as someone to look to. Jane was District Nine's first victor and she was in one of the early games, but I could never remember which one. Maybe the fifth or sixth games. But she was so old and frail she wouldn't survive in there again, she deserved a peaceful death. Greta was completely insane, but she was insane before her games, the fortieth, and it would destroy her to go back. And then there was Blaze, one of my best friends from my life before the games. He had his arm around me, and he was my first successful tribute, and my fault as well. He won just three short years ago and I thought of him as a little brother. He wasn't even twenty yet, he hadn't lived long enough. How could anyone let any of these people back into an arena? I wasn't crying for me, but for everything, no matter how this turned out, that I was losing. I didn't want to go back either.

We were already running late when Peacekeepers arrived to escort us from the victor village to the town square just down the road. People watched us as if they were seeing ghosts and although our people loved us, you could see that they were just grateful they were all safe for another year. But were they?

Our escort, Athena Something, was already on stage waiting and once we took our places, she began the usual speech that everyone in Panem could repeat by heart. "Let's start with the men this year," she walked over to the huge bowl, where three slips of paper sat. She liked to switch every year with who she started with.

My head was pounding from all the crying I was doing and then she read off, "Jem Thatcher, our male tribute," The district was silent. No muted claps that were the usual, he would be a devastating loss. I couldn't breathe. "Now for the ladies."

I struggled to take in proper breaths, this was the big one. I really didn't want it to be me, but I didn't want it to be either of my former mentors either. "Emmer Buckwheat, our female tribute. There you have it District Nine, our male and female tributes for the seventy-fifth games." I cried out and Blaze caught me as I fell. My eyes blurred and I couldn't even take one last look at my home. The Capitol had already taken everything from me, everything and now my life.

I was going to die, so the Mockingjay could live. Now all I could hope was that Finnick's name wasn't called now, but I just knew the odds weren't in my favor.

Three months earlier…

"Oh my god, that dress is goddy," I laughed over the phone. "She looks like a damned cupcake."

I heard Finnick laugh from the other end, "Really isn't it just pitiful? I would hate to be invited to that wedding. What would the guests be expected to wear?"

I laughed again, "I'll will definitely be offended if I don't get an invite and a chance to wear my bubble dress." In moments like this it was easy to forget that we were victors, that we were in separate districts, that all of Panem was on the brink of rebellion for the second time, District Eight already was a mess according to my sources. But right now, I was happy. I was on the phone with my best friend making fun of the poor, sweet Mockingjay and her attempt to stop the rebellion she started.

"Let's get Katniss Everdeen to her wedding in style!" We both laughed again, but then Caesar Flickerman said, "That's right, this year will be the seventy-fifth anniversary of the Hunger Games, and that means it's time for our third Quarter Quell!"

I sighed, we had been trying to forget and Caesar was making that very hard. "Dammit," I began as the anthem started and President Snow took the stage. "I thought we had a couple more months of ignorance."

"I know, Em," there was still humor in his voice, "Apparently they do a reading early so everyone has time to prepare. This will be an interesting year to mentor."

"Of course," I said sarcastically, President Snow was talking about the previous quells currently and I had become very good at tuning him out. "Because every year before this has just been so boring, I needed a little something extra to keep me awake."

"Hush, Em, some people are actually trying to listen to-" his voice abruptly cut off.

Snow read from the card, "As a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, the male and female tributes will be reaped from their existing pool of victors."

"What..?" I couldn't believe it this couldn't be true.

Tears fell down my face and neither of us said a word, but we stayed on the phone all night. We both had a real possibility of going back in. Once again proving we would never have peace.

Hey everyone thanks for reading, I'm trying something new with my character, but using the same one from my first fic that I abandoned. No shade to Annie because I love her, but I wanted to try Finnick with an OC and see how it changed the story and I have been mapping this out so I hope you guys like the results. Also Katniss's POV will be in third person and Emmer's will be in first. Thanks!