Ricochet

Chapter 16: Blackout

Author: Carla, aka cali-chan
Rating: Most likely PG-13. Nothing worse than what's in the books.
Genre: Adventure/suspense/drama/romance... again, pretty much what's in the books.
Pairings: Peeta/Katniss, Rory/Prim... and probably others. You'll see soon.
Canon/timeline: Same-context AU— this fic still happens in the same world as THG, but the actual events in the books never happened. I'm adding about five years to the characters from the age they were at the beginning of The Hunger Games. Katniss is 21.
Disclaimer: Yeah, just let me go get my transfer laser and switch bodies with Suzanne Collins. Until I find it in the mess that is my room, anything you can recognize belongs to her.

Note: I've never really tried this before (and I'm sure it will eventually come back and bite me in the behind), but each chapter will be from the PoV of a different character. You should be able to tell whose PoV it is fairly easily, though.

Summary: "Primrose Everdeen." This can't be happening, Katniss thought. She desperately pushed through the crowd. I volunteer!, she wanted to scream. I volunteer as tribute! But she couldn't, because she wasn't eligible for the reaping anymore. There was nothing she could do.

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"You're late."

Gale looked down at his baby sister, who was half glaring, half pouting at him, and wondered, not for the first time, how so much bossiness could be enclosed in such a tiny package. It was funny to him; his mother had things that made her mad (like soot— she was a washerwoman after all), but she was generally the more permissive one in the family, letting her sons make their own decisions so long as it didn't get them in trouble. Instead, little Posy was the one who cracked the whip on them. It didn't help that she had had him wrapped around her little finger since she was born, so he usually let her have her way even when he didn't want to.

Then again, maybe her being strict was a good thing. Some time from now (like, you know, fifteen, or better yet, twenty years later), when boys' hands started to get a little loose and their tongues a little too syrupy, she'd be able to show them who's boss. So there was the silver lining. In the meantime, though, he was at the mercy of her wrath.

Apparently she'd been expecting some sort of explanation on his part and when she didn't get one, her hands went to her hips. "You're not supposed to be out this late today!" she reminded him, though of course he knew that. The Tribute Parade was mandatory watching. "You'll get in trouble, Gale!" She wiggled a finger at him, and he had to hold back a smile.

"It's fine, Pose," he said, dropping a hand on his sister's head. "I'm here now. The broadcast hasn't started yet, has it?"

"No," she admitted, a little reluctant. "Still, you should've been here half an hour ago! Everybody from the mines already came through here," she added as he dropped his hat on the table. "Bristel even stopped by, asking where you'd disappeared off to. He gave Mom a flower."

"I'm going to punch his teeth in," he muttered to himself, taking the chance as he was currently turned away from Posy. Bristel thought it was hilarious to hit on his mother whenever he saw her. He wasn't serious, of course; he only did it to annoy him, Gale knew, but so far it never failed. It didn't help that his mother only shook her head amusedly whenever it happened. He tried to sound more agreeable as he turned back toward his very impressionable sister— or at least as agreeable as he could manage. "Probably some sort of weed. Better throw it out, I think."

"Vick already did," said Posy with a shrug. Gale nodded. At least he had the comfort that his brothers agreed with him that Bristel's jokes were anything but funny. Sometimes he wondered why he was even friends with the guy. "Where were you, anyway?" Posy asked, curious.

"Just around," he shrugged as he started to take off his work gloves. In truth, he'd stopped by the Everdeen house, though he wasn't really sure what compelled him to do so. There was nothing there for him to check up on; even the cat had left. Still a little miffed from his encounter with the Peacekeepers that morning, he'd originally decided to take the long route home, but his feet took him to Katniss's place without him noticing. Telling Posy he'd been dawdling near someone else's house for no reason would serve no purpose, though. "Is Rory here yet?"

"Yeah, he got back a while ago," she nodded. "He's in the bedroom. You don't wanna go there, though," she added hurriedly. "He saw me playing with Buttercup when he walked in, and he just locked himself in there. He hasn't come out in like an hour," she finished with a downcast expression.

"The cat's here?" he asked, surprised. He took a look toward their television set and there the thing was, sitting on their couch like it owned the place, while Vick sat on the floor, waiting for the broadcast to start, biting down onto a piece of bread (probably stale) that Rory must've brought with him from the bakery.

He looked down the hallway and toward the bedroom, and sure enough, the door was closed. This was inconvenient for all of them because it was everybody's room (his mom and Posy slept in one bed, Vick and Rory in another, and Gale, being the one that occupied the most space, slept in a patched-up mattress on the floor). "Great," he grumbled. He'd been hoping to change out of the clothes he was wearing; they were caked with dirt not only from the mines, but also from the Town Square. "Now what do we do?"

"I call the couch for tonight," Vick piped in from his spot in front of the TV.

"You'll have to fight the fur ball for it," Gale replied, with a roll of his eyes. He had half a mind to walk to the back and just pound on the door until Rory came out of his funk. He knew he missed Prim, they all did, but the way he was pulling back into himself wasn't helping things. At least when Gale was in a bad mood, he tended to go out into the forest where he wouldn't bother anyone. Rory just retreated, and it was starting to upset Posy. And what if Peacekeepers decided to check on their house tonight and found he wasn't watching the Opening Ceremonies? Rory just wasn't thinking.

He was distracted from this idea by his mother walking in through the front door. "Oh, Gale, you're back. Good." She was carrying a basket with chewed-up linens, which led him to believe she'd been at the back, tending to Prim's goat, which they were taking care of. She walked up to him. "It doesn't still sting, does it?" she asked, taking a closer look at the angry scratches on his cheek.

"It's fine," he replied dismissively. When he'd stopped by his house before the second shift at the mines, he'd told his mother he'd hurt his cheek because he'd been a little too careless at work. He had to endure a small lecture from her, but he'd take it as long as she didn't find out how he'd really gotten the scrape. When everybody had asked why Katniss hadn't been around the past few days, he fed them the same "running off into the forest" story he'd given the Peacekeepers. They were all upset. He didn't want to make his mother worry about him on top of everything else. Thankfully, it seemed she'd been too busy that day to hear the truth from someone else, but obviously he couldn't hide it forever; District Twelve was much too small for that.

After some banter about his dropping his soot-covered gloves off on the table where everybody ate, she directed him to the dinner she'd prepared out of the last of the jerky they had saved up. They'd have to go without meat until he could get back to the forest on Sunday. If he could get back to the forest on Sunday. Now that they had a new Head Peacekeeper, it might be too risky.

As he was serving himself the food, he saw his mother sneak a peek toward the back with a sigh; Rory was the only one who hadn't eaten yet. He was about to tell her not to worry about Rory, when Vick announced the broadcast was about to start. Posy picked the cat up so they could reclaim their couch, and they all sat down to watch: his mother hopeful, and the kids speculating on what Prim's costume would look like.

Part of him wished he could be as unconcerned about this as his siblings were. In reality, he was so disgusted he could barely push his food down his throat. As far as everybody was concerned, the Tribute Parade was the least threatening part of the Games; worst case scenario, you had a hideous costume that attracted no sponsors, but you still had your chance with the training scores and the interview. For Gale, however, it was possibly the part of this whole thing he hated the most. The idea of these kids, being paraded in front of the people who had sentenced them to death just so that Capitol big-wigs could choose which one they would "generously decide to help" made him sick to his stomach.

Moreover, the idea of Prim, sweet little Prim, whom everybody adored simply for being herself, being hypocritically cheered on by these people who didn't know anything about her, didn't care for her one bit, and her being forced to kiss up to Capitol degenerates who were doing nothing but destroying her family... who were destroying his family... it made his blood boil.

As the chariots started rolling down the Avenue, he actually had to set his plate down on the floor, in fear that he might break it, he was so incensed. He thought he saw the cat eye the plate curiously, but apparently Gale's scraps were not enough for it to give up its comfortable spot on Posy's lap.

For the most part, the costumes seemed fairly predictable. Some of them were not terrible. The tributes from One were covered in so many sequins, they could barely see their faces on camera; Gale thought it was stupid, but the Capitol people were sure to like that. The girl from Ten was on the older, taller side this year, so their stylists thought to put her in a form-fitting tan leather catsuit that made her attributes very obvious. But she was so serious, frankly, she just looked scary instead of provocative. Gale mentally added her to his list of opponents to keep an eye on.

There were also the more ridiculous costumes. Seven had gone from dressing up as trees the previous years (which was bad enough) to being decked out from head to toe in some sort of plaid fabric that actually changed colors. Vick commented that he got dizzy just looking at it. The pair from Four had sparklers attached to their gigantic, fin-like shoulder pieces. He had no clue what that had to do with fishing; Templesmith and Flickerman attempted to explain some sort of "theme" but it still didn't make much sense to him.

Posy speculated they were trying to make their designs more flashy since Twelve had gotten new stylists a few years back, and outshined them all. He seemed to remember her chatting about this with Prim during previous Games but he couldn't be bothered; he could care less about fashion, after all.

And then District Twelve made its way down the Avenue of the Tributes.

The first thing that called his attention was the flames: blue flames, burning all around the edge of the chariot, not tall enough to obscure the view of the tributes but certainly bright. Posy gasped at the sight, immediately asking if the fire was real. Probably not, as the flames licked at the fabric covering the tribute boy's elbow as he waved at the crowd, but he didn't seem to be getting burned. But whatever it was, it was a hundred times more impressive than Four's sparkler fail.

Both Prim and the boy were dressed similarly, in what seemed like full-body suits, almost like jumpsuits but fitted. The fabric was dark and lustrous, and seemed to shine, or more like it reflected the light from the fire as it hit them from different angles. The boy had his dark Seam hair slicked back so that it almost looked like it was part of the costume. But even though he was taller, he was virtually nothing beside Prim, whose hair was pulled back in a braid, the hues from the fire enhancing the golden highlights in it. Her eyes looked bluer than he had ever seen them.

She wasn't waving but she was smiling, though he could see some nervousness behind it when the camera came in for a close-up. Gale wasn't a fan of the spectacle, and he preferred the simple, delicate beauty of the Prim he knew and loved, but even he had to admit she made for an impressive sight. Out of the great designs they'd seen from Twelve in the past few years, this was definitely the best of the best. The Capitol people were going crazy with it; the clapping and cheering was so loud, it was hard to hear Flickerman as he cited anthracite as the inspiration behind their costumes.

All four of them (five, if you counted the cat) fell silent as the chariot reached the last stretch of the alley. He couldn't tell what each of them were thinking, all he knew was that this was sure to get Prim at least some sponsors. As much as he saw this parade as just another form of humiliation for the districts, if it could help save Prim's life, he'd grit his teeth and deal with it.

"She looks beautiful, doesn't she?"

All of them turned around at the same time, to look behind them at the person who had spoken up, barely a whisper, rough and pained. And there was Rory, leaning against the corner of the hallway, his eyes fixated on the television screen. They'd been so focused on the broadcast, they hadn't even heard him come out of the bedroom.

His mother looked like she wanted to say something to him, and she actually got up from the couch and made her way to him, but when he didn't even react to her movement, she must have decided there wasn't much she could say other than: "Yes, she does." She put an arm around him and rubbed at his shoulder comfortingly. Posy seemed upset, and she buried her nose in the cat's fur like it was some sort of plush toy. Vick had to remind them all that President Snow was about to make his address.

The high from Prim's entrance lasted about as long as the flames on her chariot did: the moment they came in front of the podium where the President was standing, the fire was out. When the man started speaking, Gale felt the disgust come back to him, full-force. He was sure he wasn't the only one feeling this way this time, if the grimace on both Vick and his mother's face was any indication. The moment the President moved on to saluting the tributes for "their courage and their sacrifice," Rory had had enough. "I can't take this anymore," he rasped out and, lightly pushing out of his mother's embrace, he made to leave.

"Rory, don't—" his mother tried to stop him from going outside, but he was already halfway to the door.

"What is he doing? The Peacekeepers will see him!" Posy exclaimed, now obviously scared, as he disappeared from sight.

Gale sighed, feeling both worried and annoyed at the same time. "I'll get him," he stated. He picked up his almost empty plate and handed it to Posy so she could wash it while he was out looking for Rory. Then he got off the couch with a groan and walked around it, determined to bring his brother back before he made an even bigger mess out of this whole thing.

Just as he was crossing the threshold, though, Vick spoke up, effectively stopping him. "Guys, I think something's happening."

They all turned to the TV set, the issue with Rory not forgotten but momentarily paused because of the urgency in Vick's voice. As Snow had continued speaking, scratches, jumps and interference started showing up on screen, cutting off his words every few seconds, like it sometimes happened when the signal was about to crash. "What's going on? Is the electricity going out?" Posy questioned, curious. By then they could barely make sense of whatever the President was saying, the signal was so choppy.

"That never happens during the Games," Vick replied, practically taking the words out of Gale's mouth. It wasn't strange for electricity to go out in Twelve, especially in the Seam, and the TV signal was usually weak at best. Not during the Games, though. That's the one time when the Capitol made sure everything was working properly, because everybody had to watch, no excuses. In twenty-three years of this, Gale could not remember even one instance when the signal for the Games was not perfect.

"Maybe it's our television," he suggested. Quite frankly he wouldn't mind if their TV finally bit the dust; he'd had enough of the Capitol shoving their propaganda down their throats to last a lifetime. Not that they wouldn't immediately issue them a new one, but still. And without a TV they wouldn't know what was going on with Prim, so he had to at least tinker with the dials to see if he could fix it.

The transmission never changed, of course, because the Games aired in every channel, but the interference grew steadily worse, the images becoming more shaky and distorted by the second, until finally the signal went out, leaving the screen completely dark. "Did the TV break down?" his mother questioned, cautious. Gale was about to reply that he thought so, when a phrase, in bold, white block letters, slowly appeared on the screen.

THIS IS WHAT THEY DON'T WANT YOU TO SEE.

"What the...?" he started, not quite sure what was going on. Was the Capitol playing some sort of trick on them, or was this something else altogether? Before he even knew what he was going to ask, the screen changed to a familiar scene. A very familiar scene.

Posy gasped. "Is that Katniss?"

It was. The clip wasn't shot from close range, and it was hard to distinguish faces, but the sight of the Justice Building in the back and the Town Square surrounded by railroad cars loaded with wooden boxes with the "Capitol Coal" logo stenciled on left no doubt that it was District Twelve. The amount of people gathered there made it clear that it was Reaping Day. And that scuffle in the middle of the frame, a dark-haired woman being forcibly pulled back by two Peacekeepers... that was definitely Katniss.

"What is this...?" the question broke away from his mother's lips just as Katniss punched Mendel on-screen. Interference started bursting in again, and for a second the image was completely obscured by screen scratches, only to come back on as him and Mellark burst from the crowd to take Katniss away. It felt like an out-of-body experience, watching himself on the television.

The signal became worse and worse as the clip progressed, getting very shaky and distorted by the point Darius let them go without punishment, and just as they were leaving the square, the television finally went off. Along with all the lights in the house.

"Oh, man..." came Vick's groan as they found themselves in complete darkness. Gale could barely see his brother's face thanks to the moonlight coming in from the window.

"What was that, Mom?" Posy asked, more focused on what she'd just seen on television than about the lack of electricity, which happened often enough that it came as no surprise. "Why were Katniss and Gale and Peeta on TV?" She held the cat tightly in her arms and it started to meow annoyingly.

"I'm sure someone at the TV station just made a mistake, honey," his mother replied, though he knew from her vague tone that she probably didn't believe it herself. He, too, was sure there was something fishy going on. Still, he agreed that it wasn't a good idea to speculate about it in front of the kids (although the way Vick rolled his eyes told him he probably had some theories of his own). "Posy, come help me get some candles from the back. I think last week we used up the last few we had out here."

"But what about Rory?" she asked, still worried.

"He can't get in trouble for not watching the broadcast if there's no broadcast," Gale pointed out, poking his sister lightly in the shoulder. The cat tried to scratch at his hand, so he tried to swat its grubby paw away. "Now go do what Mom says."

What he told Posy about Rory was true, and he and his mother agreed that if there was no immediate chance that he might get in trouble, it was better to let him cool off for a while. He'd come back on his own when he was feeling better. So instead of going out to look for him, the entire family spent the next half hour in their candle-lit living room: his mother took the time to mend some of their clothes, Vick fell asleep and was halfway falling off the couch, and Gale got roped by Posy into a game of "what's that shadow." Prim's cat looked just as discontent to be dragged into the game as he did, but they both grudgingly went along with it.

As Posy was trying to make the shadow somehow look like a princess only by using the cat's tail, Gale thought he'd had enough of the game for now. "Okay, time to look for your idiot brother now," he told her as he removed her legs from his lap and stood up, stretching the muscles of his back as he did.

"Which one? I have three of those," Posy replied, giving him a cheeky grin.

"Funny," he said, narrowing his eyes at her as he tugged at the end of her ponytail playfully. Just as he was walking around the couch, the door opened and Rory walked in. He had meant to keep his comments to himself, but apparently he didn't know how mad he was at Rory for walking out until he saw him come back. The recriminations flew out of his mouth before he could stop them. "What were you thinking, going out like that in the middle of the broadcast? Don't you know that—"

"There's someone here to see you," Rory interrupted him, his tone almost deadpan. He clearly wasn't in the mood to get into an argument. "Found her wandering around the edge of the Seam in the dark. Said she was looking for you but she didn't know which house was ours." When he took a step to the side Gale could see there was someone standing uncertainly behind him. Someone with blond hair.

"Undersee? What are you doing here?" he asked with a frown.

"Um, hello. I'm so sorry to intrude," she started, somewhat awkwardly, probably sounding like she was speaking to all of them instead of just him. Probably to his mother, who promptly stood up from the couch when she realized just who exactly their guest was. "I... needed to speak with Gale?" she finished, more a question than an affirmation.

"Rory," his mother spoke up. "Come on, I'll reheat you some dinner. Don't start," she added as he opened his mouth, probably to tell her he wasn't hungry. "We can't let that food go to waste, you know that." She turned to their visitor as she walked around the couch. "Miss Undersee, can I offer you anything?"

Gale bristled at his mother, in complete disbelief that she'd actually offer food to the Mayor's daughter. What was she thinking? Thankfully, Undersee had enough decency not to allow his mother to waste what little food they had on her. "Oh, no! That's okay, I— I already had dinner. But thank you," she added, ever polite. That was good enough for his mother and she nodded, pushing Rory toward the stove, not without throwing Gale a look over her shoulder.

He thought it was better if they talked outside the house (Posy wasn't exactly being discreet with her snooping as she was peering at them over the back of the couch, and he was sure Vick would be as well if he weren't already snoring— well, at least the cat didn't feel the need to be all up in somebody else's business...). Once they were out of the house, they came across Thom who, after gawking at Madge, completely baffled by her presence at the Hawthorne's, let them know that the lights were already back on in Town. As far as the Seam went, this was now just any other blackout.

That's where the difference in their priorities was made obvious, Gale thought. He was more pissed by the fact that they'd be out of electricity until next morning at the very least, while the people from Town had no such problems. Undersee, on the other hand, was beginning to freak out because her father would be worried about her. Figuring that she couldn't get back on her own unless she wanted to spend another half an hour lost in the Seam, he reluctantly offered to walk her home. She could say whatever it was she meant to tell him on their way there.

"Did you see it?" she asked, a little after they started walking through the Seam.

He scoffed. "I think everybody saw it," he stated. He hadn't missed Thom's speculative look— Gale knew he was wondering what was going on, but Madge's presence deterred him from asking. In four days, Katniss had managed to give Twelve more gossip than they'd had in years: first by sending the Peacekeepers into an uproar, and then "running off" with the baker. By morning, the whole district would be pinning this one on her, too.

"What do you think it means?" she asked, nervously playing with the pleats on her on her skirt. She spoke in a low voice and kept looking around as she walked, like she was expecting a Peacekeeper to jump at them from behind a house any second. "The video started by saying 'this is what they don't want you to see.' Who do you think 'they' are? The Capitol?"

"Yeah," he admitted. Nothing else made sense, considering they'd interrupted a speech by the President himself on a nationwide broadcast. If they weren't intending to piss off the Capitol to begin with, then they were very stupid people to do that. "Seems pretty clear that someone out there meant to get the districts buzzing."

"And they're using Katniss to do that," she sentenced. He'd be lying if he said that word, "using," didn't give him pause. He hadn't thought of it in that way before. "Because that's what they're doing, right? You don't think Katniss is involved with this."

Could she be? He knew Katniss detested the Capitol almost as much as he did, and he knew he'd join a rebellion without thinking about it twice if there was any way for him to get in contact with them. But, no; he knew Katniss: the only reason why she had gone to the Capitol was to save Prim. And until she was out of the Games, that would be her only priority. He shook his head. "No. Not while Prim is still in danger. And anyway, it's only been two days. That's not nearly enough time." His eyes narrowed. "You're right. They're using her."

He saw her take a deep breath, and then nod. He wondered if that was a relief for her, or if it just made her worry even more. "You haven't heard anything about this?" he asked. News of a rebellion might be "classified information" or whatever it was she had called it before, but maybe her father had let something slip, you never knew.

Much to his frustration, she shook her head. "I had no idea. I literally just sat there like an idiot wondering what was going on until Katniss appeared on-screen." She let out a mirthless chuckle and shook her head, like she was disappointed it took her that long to understand. "I don't think my dad knew, either. When the lights went out, he told me to stay in the house and ran out. He seemed really agitated." She wrapped her arms around her torso. "Do you think it's a full-on rebellion?"

"I don't know," he told her. "I don't know anything." He sighed, trying to contain his own eagerness. There was nothing he wanted more than to be able to fight, take his family and his district away from the oppression and force those pigs at the Capitol to pay for all they'd suffered. But everything was a big blank right now, and he wasn't the type to grasp at shadows. "If we could know what's going on in the other districts, maybe..."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her bite her lower lip, and immediately he knew she must've known something she wasn't telling him. "What?" he questioned, not about to let her keep it to herself. If she knew anything that was happening outside the fences, he wanted to know, too.

She took a breath, like steeling her resolve, and whispered: "Eleven is under martial law."

His steps halted and he grabbed her by the elbow, effectively stopping her as well. He was already firing questions before his head had a chance to process what she had just told him. "What? Why? Has there been rioting?" Mob-handling was usually the main reason why the Capitol used martial law on the districts, not that he'd ever lived through it in Twelve.

She shook her head. "I don't know," she sounded apologetic about not having more information. "All the news report said was that interrogations would continue until the culprit was found," she pronounced the last part with a certain rhythm in her voice, like she was quoting it exactly as she had heard it.

He frowned, something about that not sitting well with him. "Culprit?" he wondered. Normally he wouldn't get hung up on semantics, but he found the wording strange. "That sounds more like whatever happened was an individual crime, instead of an insurgence," he stated. He saw her nod, and understood she must've been thinking the same thing. "You don't know anything else?"

She shrugged and told him that was all the news report said. He let go of her arm, which he'd only just realized he was still holding onto, and they kept going. It wasn't a good idea to stand around in a dark corner of the Seam at night, especially when the lights were out and all they had to navigate around was moonlight. The rest of the walk was mostly silent, in his case because he was ruminating on the possibilities. She remained contemplative as well, though he didn't really care to ask what she was thinking of.

As they reached the edge of Town, they began seeing the first signs of Peacekeepers on patrol, so Gale decided it was better to take the back alley route instead. As his current companion pointedly reminded him, he wasn't in good standing with their new Head Peacekeeper, and it would probably be best if he wasn't caught loitering around Town at high hours of the night for no reason. So they took the route he usually used when trading game with the merchants, a route that took them to the Undersees' backyard and the back entrance to the house.

"Thanks for walking me home," the girl said as she walked up to the door, once again using that bland, irrevocably polite tone she had so perfected. She lightly bit her lip, chagrined. "When I saw Katniss on the TV I kind of— freaked out, I guess? I had to know if it was just me. I'm sorry, I hate to be a bother..."

"It's fine," he grunted, cutting her off before her rambling caught steam. In all honesty he should be mad at her, making him come all the way to Town in the middle of the night, and now to make matters worse he still had to go back home. Truth be told he was a little annoyed at her, but with all that was going on with this interrupted broadcast, he had more important things to think about. He wouldn't admit it out loud but he could understand that she was worried about Katniss. He was almost going out of his mind with worry, as well, though he was more practiced at not letting it show.

And it wasn't the only thing bothering him, either. "What was that they were building back there, in the square?" They'd only gotten a glimpse of it because they were taking the back roads, but it was clear there was some sort of unfinished wooden structure set up in the Town Square. They must've started working on it that afternoon, because it certainly wasn't there in the morning. It seemed like a sort of stage... or, more disturbingly, a gallows.

"I'm not sure, but it doesn't look like anything good," she replied with a light grimace. Apparently he hadn't been the only one thinking of darker possibilities just then. "Maybe I'll ask on my way to work tomorrow. I can't really think about it today. My head is just not in it." She sighed, then ran a hand over her face, like she was tired. "I wish we knew what's going on. I can ask my father, maybe. If he thinks I'm just worried because of his reaction tonight, he might tell me something to make me feel better."

For a second he almost chuckled. The idea of Undersee trying to charm or guilt her father into giving her information was somehow both grating and amusing— like when Posy gave him the puppy eyes to get him to play some kiddie game with her. Maybe being the little girl of the house did work some times. But more than that, maybe her words had made the irony of it all finally catch up to him: Gale Hawthorne, District Twelve's most notorious poacher, discussing the possibility of a rebellion with none other than the Mayor's daughter? It was so ridiculous it was almost funny.

But it was hardly the time and place for laughing matters; not when there was the possibility someone out there was working to stir up dissent in the districts, and Katniss may be unknowingly involved. He had to know if this could hit Twelve. He had to know if it could affect Katniss. But as much as he would rather do things on his own, he couldn't exactly go around asking in his circle of acquaintances. She might be able to.

"Let me know if he says anything," he told her. She nodded, still contemplative. "You might wanna wait until I'm in Town, though. Wouldn't want to get lost in the Seam again," he added. He hadn't meant it as a joke, but she laughed lightly. Once more she apologized for bothering him, thanked him for walking her home, and went inside.

He walked all the way back to his house wondering if Katniss was okay.

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Author's notes!-

Well, if Buttercup made it into the movie, I couldn't very well leave him out of this fanfic, now could I? :P This chapter was supposed to be shorter, but I have an inordinate amount of love for the Hawthorne kids, so I couldn't help myself. I guess it's a good thing most of you like longer chapters!

And speaking of most of you, I just wanted to take a moment to thank those of you who leave a review in every chapter I post (you know who you are). I was expecting to get less reviews than usual last time because it was a Prim chapter, but regardless of the number, I really appreciate those of you who actively wait for my chapters and leave me your comments every time. A lot of people have this on story alerts, but it's not just anyone who reviews. So, thanks to those of you who do. It's not lip service, it really means the world to me, guys. -HUGS-

And before you look at me weird and ask me if I'm PMS-ing, there's a good reason for the mushiness: 17 was a chapter I just really, really loved writing, and I'm so excited it's finally coming up! Now, because I'm a very nice person, I'll give you a hint: SUGAR CUBES. ;) It may take a while because 23 is going to be a bitch to write, I just know it (-sigh-), but if you review it may help me write faster! I'll see you next time, y'all. :)