CHAPTER 17

PART I

I stared down at the contents of my teacup, unable to ignore the knot in my stomach. My dinner plate, untouched, had been shoved off to one side. As I gazed at the rapidly cooling tea (a special treat served tonight – tap water was usually the norm), I was gripped by one unmistakable fact.

In less than eighteen hours, Sperantia Blackstone would be executed on the orders of President Alma Coin.

Speri Blackstone had made no secret of the fact that she despised everyone connected with the Rebellion. She was a rich, pampered, spoiled, fourteen-year-old Capitolite, whose father was Panem's Minister of Security. And tomorrow, at noon, with Beetee Latier hacking into the Capitol's communications network, she would be brought to the same soundstage where Plutarch Heavensbee edited his propaganda broadcasts, forced to kneel, and be shot in the back of the head on live Holo-TV, in retaliation for the bombing of District Eight.

And I haven't done a damn thing to try to stop it.

I'm just one person. At least that's what I kept telling myself, ever since Coin so gleefully announced Speri's execution. Retaliation, Coin had called it. Retaliation for the nuclear attack on District Eight – an attack that killed thousands outright, with thousands more sure to die in the coming weeks. One life compared to thousands. One life, that had absolutely nothing to do with the attack. And it was so wrong.

Coin, and the leaders of the other Rebel districts, was frightened. Coriolanus Snow had elevated this war into something unthinkable. Other districts were faltering, suddenly concerned that they could be next to feel Snow's nuclear wrath. Even those whose resolve hadn't wavered were feeling the effects of their unpopular decision to not render aid to the District Eight survivors, while at the same time realizing that aid, on such a massive scale, was beyond the capabilities of the Rebellion. The momentum had shifted back to favor the Capitol and their Loyalist allies – and Snow knew it.

I wasn't a politician, or even a real soldier. I was a baker's son from District Twelve. And I could see that absolutely nothing good would be accomplished by executing Sperantia Blackstone.

"Peeta!" I glanced up at the sound of my name, only to see Plutarch Heavensbee and his ever-present shadow, Fulvia Cardew, approaching my table. Shit, I said to myself. Plutarch is about the last person I want to see right now.

"I'm glad I caught you here," Plutarch said cheerfully, as he and Fulvia slid onto the bench across from me. "I need to discuss a few details with you regarding some upcoming propos –"

"Not now, Plutarch," I muttered. "I'm not really in the mood."

"Uhhh…well," Plutarch stammered. "Fine, then. You just listen to some ideas that Fulvia and I have come up with."

I sighed heavily. I could get up and leave, but Plutarch would probably just follow me. "Here's one I think you'll like – we video the moment when that eye doctor…"

"Fenster," Fulvia supplied when Plutarch's voice trailed off.

"Right! Dr. Fenster," Plutarch continued. "We capture the moment when he removes Katniss's bandages and all of Panem will be able to witness her seeing for the first time since – her unfortunate accident."

"There was nothing 'accidental' about Snow nuking Eight," I pointed out flatly. My blunt statement seemed to catch both Plutarch and Fulvia off-guard. "So, tell me," I continued, "what will you do if Fenster removes Katniss's bandages – and we find out that she's still blind?"

Plutarch looked stunned at my question. "Fulvia," he said, "I thought you spoke with that eye doctor – Fenster, was it?"

"Dr. Fenster," Fulvia confirmed. "And he's optimistic about Katniss Everdeen regaining her eyesight."

"Yeah, he told me that also," I muttered. "And he also told me that he's never seen such a severe case of flash blindness."

"We have to think positive," Plutarch said, trying to regain his earlier optimistic momentum. "However, you may have a point, Peeta…about not filming Katniss having her bandages removed, that is. In retrospect, I'm sure her mother and sister would prefer a modicum of privacy during such a sensitive moment."

And I'm sure that you just realized that there's a very real risk that Fenster will take off her bandages, only to discover that Katniss is still blind, I said to myself savagely. And how would that look on your precious propo? "I'm sure Mrs. Everdeen, and Prim as well, would appreciate your willingness to give up such a moment," I said dryly.

"Quite so," Plutarch replied with forced joviality. "Anyway, the other item that I wished to discuss with you is setting a date to begin doing your interview shows."

Shit. Plutarch's idea for me to interview the other Victors, as well as some of the more pliable Capitol expatriates, had completed slipped my mind. "I really don't want to talk about that right now," I muttered.

Plutarch leaned forward. "Peeta," he said urgently, "I know that recent…events…have you somewhat upset. But you must understand, we need to keep up the information wars pressure. Remind people what they're fighting for!"

"In that case," I all but snarled, "then you better make sure not to clean up Sperantia Blackstone's blood off the soundstage floor after Coin murders her tomorrow. Now that will send a real message!"

Plutarch glanced around anxiously as other diners – mostly District Thirteen soldiers – raised their heads from their meals to listen to our exchange. "Keep your voice down!" he hissed.

Angrily, I swept my arm across the table, sending my tray and cup clattering to the floor. I grabbed up my cane and awkwardly rose to my feet. "Count me out," I snapped, and then deliberately turned my back on Plutarch and Fulvia.

Without a backward glance, I stomped out of the mess hall, feeling every eye on me as I made my way to the door. Plutarch called after me, once, but I never slowed down. Once in the corridor, I headed straight for my quarters. I had originally planned on visiting Katniss after dinner, but I knew that I couldn't see her in my present agitated state.

Once I was alone in my quarters, I flopped back on the narrow bed and stared up at the ceiling. I couldn't remember ever feeling so alone as I did right at that moment.

I'm not sure how long I laid there before a soft knock at my door intruded upon my thoughts.

"Go away," I called out wearily.

I heard the door slide open. "Sorry, can't do that," I heard a familiar voice say.

I turned my head and watched as Boggs and Jackson entered my quarters. "What do you want?"

"Meeting in Command," Boggs explained succinctly.

I glanced at them both, warily. "Then why didn't you just call?"

Jackson looked unhappy. "We're here to escort you," Boggs replied, after a moment.

I sighed, swung my legs off the bed, and stood up. "I know where Command is," I said as I grabbed my cane. "I don't need an escort."

In response, Boggs gestured towards the door. "After you."

I shook my head as I limped past them. Once in the corridor, Boggs and Jackson flanked me, one on each side, as we walked to the nearest elevator. We said nothing as we walked, but the tension was so thick that I could feel it pressing down on me.

Only after Boggs slid the elevator cage shut, and it jerked into motion, did I finally speak. "I take it that Coin is not happy with me?"

"President Coin objects to your use of the word 'murder' in describing the Blackstone girl's pending execution," Boggs replied slowly.

"Boggs, what she's planning is not right," I pointed out firmly. "And you know it."

"If you're concerned about due process," Boggs said, "a tribunal has been scheduled for Blackstone tomorrow morning."

"Where she will be found guilty of…something," I said disgustedly, "and sentenced to death."

Boggs said nothing. When I glanced at him, I could see his jaw muscles moving as he clenched his teeth angrily. The only question was who his anger was directed towards – me, or Coin? I was pretty sure I knew where Jackson stood – she hadn't said a word, but her body language was not that of a willing participant.

The elevator shuddered to a stop. Jackson reached out to open the cage, but Boggs held up one hand, stopping her. Turning to me, he said softly, "There's nothing that I can do. I can't stop this. Do you understand?"

His meaning was clear. Boggs was being the good soldier. But even good soldiers, that obey orders, knew the difference between right and wrong. I glanced at Jackson, who nodded her head, once. I nodded back.

"I understand," I replied simply.

Boggs nodded at Jackson, who slid the cage door open. "Come on, Soldier," he said. "Let's not keep the president waiting."

PART II

"Ahh," President Alma Coin said with a satisfied smile as I entered the conference room with my escorts. "Please be seated, Soldier Mellark. We can begin now."

I slid into a chair next to Beetee Latier and glanced around the table. Plutarch was there, of course, along with his assistant, Fulvia Cardew. Major Zander was also present. Henry Elliott, Coin's aide, sat at her side. And, of course, Boggs, Jackson, Beetee, and myself. But what was more noticeable was not who was there – it was who wasn't there.

No Haymitch. No Effie. No Silenus Festuca or Darius Potter. No Katniss, of course. No Finnick Odair. No one, in other words, that was apt to voice any opposition to Coin – or, for that matter, even present an argument from a differing point of view.

No one – except me.

Boggs caught my eye and nodded once, almost imperceptibly. His meaning to me was clear. Just as clear to me was the reason for Major Zander's presence in this meeting. If Boggs stepped out of line – I had a sneaking suspicion may had already occurred, although most likely in private with Coin – Major Zander was there to step in if Coin found it necessary to relieve Boggs of his position as Chief of Security for District Thirteen.

I glanced quickly at Beetee, but he appeared impassive, in fact almost bored. What would he do if I stuck my neck out? It all hinged on not only what I was about to say, but how I said it. Beetee would back me – if I could state my case logically. The only problem was, I really didn't know exactly what to say, other than the execution of Sperantia Blackstone was wrong. And I couldn't very well invoke visits from the spirits of Gale Hawthorne and Gamma Churchill.

I had to think of something, and quickly. President Coin was about to speak.

"I will keep this short," Coin announced. "Sperantia Blackstone's tribunal will be conducted at zero eight hundred hours tomorrow morning. I expect it to last no more than three hours. Upon reaching the verdict of guilty, her execution will be carried out at noon and televised throughout Panem. I expect –"

"No."

Coin almost seemed to expect my interruption. "What was that, Soldier?" she asked. Her tone was low, pleasant, and almost mocking.

"I said –" I croaked nervously, as I rose to my feet. I cleared my throat and continued. "I said, 'no.' No tribunal. No execution."

"It's come to my attention that you voiced your opinions regarding my decision earlier this evening, during the evening meal," Coin said, her voice suddenly turning cold. "I am not accustomed to having my decisions questioned."

"I know this," I replied. Careful, I said to myself. If you don't do this just right, you'll end up on Level Thirty-Nine. "President Coin," I continued, forcing a firmness that I didn't really feel into my voice, "executing an innocent girl in retaliation for this attack is wrong."

Coin sat there, a smile frozen on her face as I spoke. "Your opinion has been noted, Soldier. However, the tribunal – and execution – will proceed as planned. This subject is closed, and you may consider yourself fortunate that I'm willing to forgive your insubordination. Now –"

"Then you are no better than Coriolanus Snow," I stated forcefully.

The smile faded from Coin's face. "What did you say?" she hissed.

"Summary executions are a Snow tactic," I continued. "What message would Sperantia Blackstone's execution send to the rest of Panem? I'll tell you what kind of message that I would get – that no matter how much things change, deep down inside, they're still the same."

Slowly, Coin rose to her feet. "How dare you?" she snapped. Her face was totally drained of color and I could see that she was trembling with barely controlled rage. "You dare compare me to…to…that monster?" Her hands suddenly clenched into fists. "He and his kind have brought nothing but misery and suffering to Panem! And I am leading the fight to stop it! I –"

"You know nothing about misery and suffering!" I shouted back. I pulled my shirt over my head and spun around, exposing my scarred back. "Tell me, President Coin – how many floggings have you had?" I turned back around and hiked up my trousers, baring my prosthetic leg. "Look at this!" I grabbed my cane and struck my leg with a metallic thunk. "Courtesy of the Third Quarter Quell." I allowed my trouser leg to drop back down and scooped my shirt up off the table. "You already know about what he did to me in the Capitol. But it's not just about me." I gestured towards Beetee. "Beetee is a fellow Victor. He knows what it's like to be afraid to go to sleep at night. And look – really look – at the other refugees from Twelve, especially the kids. How stunted they are from years of never having enough to eat. And look them in the eye, if you can, and tell them how tough you've had it eating turnips, stale bread, and mystery meat three meals a day, when most of these kids would have given anything to have what you have had your entire life."

My outburst caught everyone by surprise – me, most of all – but I could see that Coin was genuinely shocked. Whether my words registered, or if she was just amazed that someone yelled at her, I doubt if I will ever know. But, for now, I was the center of attention, and I needed to press my advantage while I could.

"I can't stop you from executing Sperantia Blackstone," I said, quieter now but still firmly. "But know this – her blood on that soundstage floor will signal the end of my cooperation with you." I turned my attention to Plutarch. "And with you also. No more propos. No interviews. And right now, I could give less than a fuck about what happens to me."

I suddenly felt drained, and plopped back into my chair, still clutching my shirt. As if my sitting down was a cue, Beetee cleared his throat, and, in his quiet manner, said, "I stand – figuratively, of course – with Peeta. Madam President, if you proceed with this ill-conceived execution, I will not lend my expertise and knowledge of the Capitol's communication systems to aid in its broadcast."

Coin stared at Beetee and I, her lips compressed into a thin, bloodless line. "It is within my authority to order the immediate arrest of you both," she finally said – but the fire had disappeared from her voice.

I glanced at Beetee, who inclined his head respectfully. "Yes, you do, Madam President."

"Perhaps," Plutarch said suddenly, his voice an octave higher than normal and tinged with panic, "there's another option, Madam President."

Coin sunk back into her chair and tightly squeezed the bridge of her nose between thumb and forefinger before replying. "Please don't make me guess, Mr. Heavensbee," she said wearily.

"Sperantia Blackstone's execution would most definitely send a message," Plutarch pointed out. "It would be a message that Capitol citizens would understand easily – but, at the same time, it would be a message that may be misconstrued throughout the rest of Panem. I propose an alternative."

Coin made a "get on with it" gesture with her hand. "Please enlighten us."

"Just this," Plutarch continued. "Instead of executing Sperantia – we convert her to the Rebel cause."

Nothing is ever easy.

I owe Beetee Latier more than I will ever be able to repay. His threat to cease using his knowledge to hack into the Capitol communications network probably scared Coin more than my threats of withholding my cooperation with the propos. Beetee knew where the "back doors" were – the flaws in the system that he, himself, had a hand in designing – and it would do Coin no good to perform an execution if the citizens of Panem would not be able to view it in all its blood-spattered glory.

And Plutarch – who would have ever expected Plutarch Heavensbee to come up with a solution so achingly brilliant? Ever since Sperantia Blackstone had unwillingly joined in my escape and rescue, the question had hung over her like a black cloud – what to do with her now? Andromeda Snow was easy – she was not only a willing accomplice to my escape, it was safe to say that it would not have happened without her (I had some serious damage control to do with her following the horrible way that I had treated her – but I'm getting ahead of myself), and there had never been any serious doubt that she would willingly lend herself to any propaganda efforts. But Sperantia?

There's a reason why Plutarch had risen so high in the Gamemaker hierarchy – he knew precisely what buttons to push and when to push them for maximum effect. His solution was this: let Sperantia Blackstone become aware of just how close she came to dying, and how Beetee and myself stuck out own necks out to prevent her execution. Stress to her that she had been given a second chance to cooperate by two people that had nothing to gain by helping her, and that she now had a chance to redeem herself. And the way that she would do that would be to be a part of the District Eight relief effort.

Coin had made a valid point regarding District Eight – there was really nothing that we could do to help the vast majority of the survivors there. But Plutarch pointed out that we didn't need to help everyone, just make it appear that we were trying to help everyone. And what better way to do that than to have both Andromeda Snow and Sperantia Blackstone at the forefront of the token relief force?

But, like I said, nothing is ever easy. For I had publicly challenged President Alma Coin, and, more importantly, I had won – at least for now.

And Coin did not like to lose.

Once Plutarch had hastily outlined his idea, Coin had ordered Beetee and I to be escorted back to our quarters, with orders that we were to remain there except for meals, without visitors, until further notice. Coin's message to us was clear – we were both under house arrest – her way, no doubt, of reminding us who was still in command in District Thirteen. And so, Jackson escorted me, while Major Zander escorted Beetee. As we left the conference room in Command, she ordered Boggs, Plutarch, and Fulvia to remain behind. I knew why without being told. She needed a new plan for Sperantia, and she needed one quickly.

I was physically and emotionally drained once Jackson had deposited me back in my quarters, but quietly elated at the same time. I had managed to save Sperantia - at least for now.

As I lay on my narrow bunk and felt my eyes grow heavy, the last thought I remembered before falling into an exhausted sleep was to wonder what Katniss would think when she found out exactly what I had done.

PART III

My in-house incarceration passed uneventfully, except for one notable visit…by none other than Haymitch, Cinna, and Silenus Festuca, also known as The Goat Man.

They arrived, ironically, at noon the day following my showdown with Coin. I had just finished up some exercises my physical therapist had given me to do and had been awaiting my escort to lunch when I heard their knock on the door. Expecting a taciturn District Thirteen soldier, I was visibly surprised when I slid the door open.

"Close your mouth, kid," Haymitch suggested with a smirk, "and invite us in."

Dumbfounded, I stepped aside and waved the three of them into my quarters. It didn't escape my notice that Festuca carefully locked the door once they had all entered. Cinna tossed down four field ration packs on my small table while Haymitch produced four water flasks.

"Have a seat," Haymitch instructed, as Cinna and Festuca dragged my bunk around to make a kind of bench, as there were only two chairs at my table. Haymitch took one of the chairs and gestured for me to take the other.

"You dine in today," Cinna said as he pushed a ration pack towards me. "What we have to discuss is to remain in this room – for now."

"Why the secrecy?" I asked as I sat.

"There's a leak somewhere in Command," Festuca explained. "We don't know exactly where. But this involves you and Katniss directly, and we can't risk either o' you becomin' Snow's target again."

I examined the ration pack before tearing it open. I noticed with interest that it wasn't the standard District Thirteen field ration, but rather one issued to Peacekeepers. "Where'd this come from?" I asked.

"Captured supply train," Haymitch replied impatiently. "Eat up, kid, and listen while we tell you what's goin' on." He turned to Cinna. "You start."

As I tore open my ration, Cinna began to speak. "First things first. Katniss's bandages come off this evening. Your presence has been requested by no less than three doctors – Fenster, Picardo, and Aurelius – with concurrence by both Colonel Boggs and Plutarch Heavensbee, who, by the way, assured me that there will be no cameras there to cover the event."

I felt a pang of anxiety. Suppose the bandages came off and she still couldn't see? I know Fenster was optimistic, but – "Am I to be escorted to the hospital? I do know my way there, you know."

"Can the smart-assery, Peeta," Haymitch said wearily. "You and Beetee both managed to push every 'piss-off' button that Coin owns last night. Consider yourself lucky that she's allowing you to be there tonight."

"Sorry," I muttered. Quickly changing the subject, I added, "What did you mean, 'a leak?'"

"Just that," Festuca said. "Boggs told me that both he and Heavensbee suspect a plant somewhere in Command that's been feedin' intel to Snow." He paused and looked at me intently. "That is strictly hush-hush. You ain't to say a word to anyone, and that includes Katniss Everdeen. Got it?"

"You can't suspect Katniss –"

"We don't," Festuca said. "But the fewer people that know, the better. Understood?"

I nodded solemnly. "Understood." The idea of a spy in Coin's Command team was unsettling, to say the least.

"Now for some positive news," Cinna said. "Coin has completely abandoned the idea of executing Sperantia Blackstone. She, along with Boggs and Plutarch, have put together a new plan to use her and Andromeda Snow in propos as part of the District Eight relief effort."

"They were up almost all night coordinatin' with other Rebel districts," Haymitch added. He chuckled softly. "I gotta hand it to ya, kid. Coin thought she'd have an easy road puttin' a bullet in that little girls' head without me and Goaty not bein' at the meetin' last night. Looks like you an' Beetee put a great tag team move on her. You are all people's been talkin' about."

"Just more proof that there's a leak," muttered Festuca.

"So, she's sending both Meda and Speri to Eight?" I asked.

"After a crash-course in field medicine," Cinna replied with a nod. "It won't make them full-fledged medics, but they'll be taught enough so at least it looks like they know what they're doing."

"And how does all this involve Katniss and I?" I asked.

"There's been a change of plan regardin' you 'n Katniss," Haymitch said slowly. "You'll both be goin' out to Eight with the medical teams and the Capitol girls."

"With both me and Boggs along to keep you two outta trouble," Festuca added.

"We're all going," Cinna said. "It's a secured area, and all of you will have the services of a Stylist – me – and my prep team to help you look your best."

All I could do was sit there, dumbfounded, as the three of them talked. There had been no mention of me doing interview-style propos here in District Thirteen. Coin had apparently decided to send both Katniss and I back out into the field, without even first confirming that Katniss had even regained her sight.

I didn't care that Cinna had referred to District Eight as "secured," or that Festuca was joining the security team. I had a sneaking suspicion that, by standing up for Sperantia Blackstone, I had ended up placing both Katniss and myself firmly in Coin's crosshairs.

I had a target on my back, and I did not like the feeling.

"That's about it, kid," Haymitch said as we finished our lunch. I had to admit that the Peacekeeper field rations were far superior to the ones that District Thirteen issued its soldiers. "Johanna will be by in a few to take you to the hospital. Everyone going on this junket will get some medical training before you deploy…not just the Capitol girls."

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Cinna asked as he leaned back on my bunk, propping himself up on his elbows, an amused smile on his face. I found myself wondering grumpily what he could possibly find funny.

"Later," Haymitch all but snapped. "We got other things to worry about."

"Okay," Cinna sighed. "If you won't tell him, I will. Peeta, Haymitch is –"

"Shut it, Cinna!" Haymitch barked, as Festuca chuckled, his lined face creased with amusement.

"Haymitch, either you tell him, or I will," Cinna said firmly.

My curiosity was aroused now. "Tell me what?"

Haymitch was the only person I know that could sigh and grumble at the same time, and he did it right before he answered me. "I…I'm getting' married," he muttered. "To Effie," he added hastily.

I couldn't hide my surprise if I tried. "Close your mouth, Peeta," Cinna said with a laugh.

"How?" I finally managed to say. "When?"

Haymitch actually looked embarrassed. "Effie and I, we've been kickin' the idea around some for a while now. Plutarch was gonna press the issue of you 'n Katniss getting' married as a propaganda stunt. An' I know how much you hated the idea of turnin' your wedding into some kinda public display, so Effie had the idea of her 'n I gettin' married instead."

"Plutarch loves the idea," Cinna added. "A born and bred Capitol woman marrying a rough-hewn District Twelve man – Plutarch wants to show all of Panem that love can blossom between District and Capitol. And, of course, Effie gets to dress for the occasion."

"We're doin' a double wedding, with Finnick n' Annie," Haymitch explained. He paused for a moment. "Oh, hell, now that the cat's outta the bag, I guess I should ask."

"Ask what, Haymitch?" I was still trying to digest this news. Haymitch and Effie – married? To each other? I knew that they had grown closer since arriving in District Thirteen, but this was a real shocker.

"I…I mean, we…were wonderin' if you'd bake up a wedding cake for the four of us," Haymitch managed to say.

"That depends," I replied, amused at Haymitch's discomfiture.

"On what?" Haymitch asked, his tone anxious.

"On whether Coin allows me access to the ingredients that I'll need," I explained with a grin.

Cinna draped his arm across my shoulders. "I don't think that will be a problem," he said.

Before I could reply, there was a knock at my door, followed immediately by the door sliding open, revealing Johanna Mason. "You ready, Handsome?" she asked.

"Hang on," I said. I turned to Haymitch and stuck my hand out. "Congratulations."

Haymitch slowly reached out and gripped my hand. "Thanks. Now get going." He gave me a knowing look. "You n' Katniss…I mean, I hope that you two –"

I nodded, once. "I know. And we will. Someday." I released his hand and turned to Johanna, grabbing up my cane. "Okay. Let's go."

Once we were all out of my quarters, I slid the door shut firmly and watched as Haymitch, Cinna, and Festuca headed off towards the elevators that would take them to the Command level, before Johanna and I made our way to the stairs that would take us to the Hospital level. It was a good thing that there were only a few flights to take – the elevators would have been easier, but my therapists wanted me to use stairs as much as possible for the exercise.

I was getting stronger, but the stairs were still a challenge. Johanna stuck by my side, watching me carefully as I negotiated each step. I could tell that she was curious about the meeting I had with Haymitch, Cinna, and Festuca, but she hadn't said anything – yet.

That silence only lasted until we reached the next level down. "You gonna tell me what all that was about?" she finally asked.

"Nope," I huffed as I began to descend to the next level.

"Fuck you," she muttered.

"Trust me, Jo," I said. "You really don't want to know."

"And here I thought we were friends," she pouted.

"Knock it off," I said with a chuckle. "You can't pout for shit."

"I bet I know what it was about," she said slyly.

"Jo, I said you don't –"

"It's about Haymitch marrying Effie Trinket, isn't it?"

I glanced at Johanna sharply. "You knew about that?"

She shrugged. "I thought everyone knew."

I paused on the next landing to catch my breath. Damn stairs are kicking my ass, and they wanna send me to District Eight? "I didn't," I muttered.

"Well," Johanna said slowly, "you've had other things on your mind. Like telling Coin to fuck off."

"Yeah, well," I replied as I started down the stairs again, "let's not talk about that, okay?"

"Just one word of advice," she said as she walked close to me.

"What's that?"

Johanna dropped her voice conspiratorially. "Watch your ass."

PART IV

Johanna and I arrived at the hospital a few minutes early. I tried to use the time to my advantage, to pop in and say hello to Katniss, only to be stopped at her door by none other than her mother.

"Hello, Mrs. Everdeen," I said, as she carefully slid the door shut behind her. The past few days had obviously been difficult for her. She looked like she had barely slept or eaten.

"Peeta," she replied, giving me a weary smile. "Hello." She nodded at Johanna. "Hello, Johanna. You've both come at a bad time, I'm afraid."

Alarmed, I blurted, "Why? What's wrong with Katniss? Is it –" I paused for a moment "- her eyes?"

"No, Peeta. She had a severe anxiety attack," Mrs. Everdeen explained. "She managed to work herself up pretty good. She's convinced herself that she will be permanently blind, and is terrified of having her bandages removed tonight. And when you didn't stop by yesterday –"

"Shit." I clenched my jaw angrily. Damn Coin! "I…I couldn't. I was confined to my room."

"I know," Mrs. Everdeen said quietly. "I heard. That was very noble, sticking up for that Blackstone girl like you did."

At that moment, I wasn't feeling noble. I was feeling guilt for not being there for Katniss when she needed me. "I want to see Katniss," I said bluntly.

At that moment, the door to Katniss's room slid open and Dr. Fenster stepped out of the room. "You can't. At least, not right now. She's been sedated."

"It's best for now, Peeta," Mrs. Everdeen added softly. "She's quieted down. We want to keep her like that for a while."

"Come on, Handsome," Johanna urged. "You don't want to be late."

"Just make sure that you're back here by nineteen hundred," Fenster said. "That's when I remove her bandages." He slipped a quick grin at Johanna. "You too, Jo."

Johanna actually blushed slightly. "See you later, Nils."

I waited until after we said our goodbyes and Dr. Fenster, along with Mrs. Everdeen, were safely behind us, to ask. "Nils? When did that happen?"

Johanna blushed again. "Shut up, Mellark," she grumbled darkly.

I shut up. I had come to learn not to mess with Jo when she addressed me by my last name. But I was determined to learn more about this strange relationship that she had developed with Dr. Nils Fenster.

The medical training was not really worth mentioning. For me, it was nothing more than a refresher on my first aid training that I had when I was in soldier's training. What was worth mentioning, however, were my fellow trainees – and our instructor.

To my surprise, Primrose Everdeen was our instructor. I guess I shouldn't have been all that shocked – Dr. Picardo spoke very highly of her, as did Dr. Aurelius – but it still seemed strange to have Katniss's sister lecturing us about the three lifesaving steps, or the best ways to prevent shock. What wasn't strange, however, was Prim's confidence and her depth of medical knowledge. We all soon forgot that a fourteen-year-old District Twelve Healer was standing at the head of the class, demonstrating the most effective way to treat severe burns.

My fellow trainees were just as big a surprise. I knew that Andromeda Snow and Sperantia Blackstone would be there, of course. What I hadn't been aware of, however, was that all the Victors that had been imprisoned in the Capitol were there as well. Johanna, Cashmere, Gloss, and Enobaria were all there, as well as Finnick Odair and Annie Cresta…who seemed like an entirely different person since her reunion with Finnick. The only Victors that weren't represented here were Haymitch Abernathy, Beetee Latier – and Katniss Everdeen.

I could tell that Johanna was secretly amused by my surprise that she, along with the others, were being trained. And it also made me wonder why there was so much secrecy around Katniss and I being deployed as part of the token District Eight relief effort. Johanna and I had arrived just before Prim began her lecture, so my questions would have to remain unanswered.

However, at our first break, I did get some answers to my questions. Finnick and Annie, after exchanging quick greetings with me, took Johanna aside for a hushed, yet animated, discussion, before I had a chance to ask her about her and Dr. Fenster. I thought about using the few minutes that we had to try to make amends with Andromeda, but, from her cold stare, I could see that it would take more than a simple "I'm sorry" with her. Sperantia, still under a guard's watchful eye, took her break by herself. I did catch her glance in my direction once or twice, but each time she quickly looked away. It was the Career Victors that handed me yet another surprise when they actually initiated a conversation with me.

And it all started in the bathroom.

I was standing at the urinal, finishing my business, when I heard the bathroom door open, then close, behind me. A figure stepped to the urinal next to mine, and a sidelong glance told me that Gloss had joined me in answering nature's call.

He nodded once. "Mellark."

"Gloss," I replied. It was then I noticed that he was leaning slightly in my direction and staring down at my crotch.

I finished and zipped up quickly. "What the hell are you looking at?" I snapped.

Gloss chuckled. "Just wanted to see if your balls were actually as big as everyone says they are."

I knew he must have been referring to my confrontation with Coin. "I did what I had to do," I muttered, as I stepped to the sink to wash up.

A moment later, Gloss joined me. "Yeah, well," he said admiringly, "what you did took a hefty pair. Didn't think you Twelves had it in you."

Embarrassed by his praise, I didn't know what else to say, other than "Thanks."

Gloss pushed the bathroom door open ahead of me. "After you."

I muttered another thanks to him as we walked back to join the rest of our fellow trainees. As we approached, Cashmere called out, "Well?"

"Bigger than I thought!" Gloss replied with a grin.

"Shit." Embarrassed, I wanted nothing more than to return to class, but there was still a few minutes of break left. Besides, Gloss had his hand on my shoulder, guiding me towards Cashmere and Enobaria, and it would have taken too much effort on my part to pull away.

"So," Enobaria said to me, "what's the latest on your girlfriend?"

"Her bandages come off tonight," I replied carefully, wondering at her interest in Katniss's welfare.

"I hope she is okay," Enobaria said, her soft District Two accent actually sounding sincere. "She's a warrior. She deserves better."

"That goes for us all," Cashmere added, as Gloss nodded his agreement. "It wasn't just you that she stuck her neck out for, that night outside the Capitol."

They sounded sincere, but I still wasn't entirely convinced. Changing the subject, I asked, "So why are you going through this training?"

Gloss snorted. "Plutarch made us an offer too good to turn down. If we agreed to go out and allow ourselves to be videoed helping the medical teams treat the wounded, injured, and sick, then he would see that these things –" he extended his right leg, where a tracker was firmly clamped around the ankle "- were removed and that we could move around freely."

"I wanted to hold out for a full parole," Cashmere added, "like they gave to Snow's ex-bodyguard, Casca. The best Heavensbee could do was a compromise. We can move around without guards, but we still wear the trackers."

"Did they tell you where they were planning on sending you?" I asked cautiously.

Enobaria shook her head. "No. Just that we were to train and await assignment. Why do you ask?"

Inwardly I breathed a sigh of relief. If they hadn't told the Career Victors, then they probably didn't tell Andromeda or Sperantia either. Unless they aren't sending the Careers to Eight, I said to myself.

"No reason," I replied carefully. "I just –"

"Excuse me."

I stopped talking when I heard the soft voice behind me. From the glares coming from Cashmere, Gloss, and Enobaria I knew that the voice didn't come from either Johanna or Andromeda. Slowly, I turned towards the source of the voice, but I already knew who had spoken.

Sperantia Blackstone stood a step or two away from the four of us, looking uncomfortable. "I'd like to talk to you for a minute," she said quietly.

"Go ahead, Mellark," Gloss said with an unpleasant sneer. "We'll see you inside."

The three Careers brushed past Sperantia and I on their way back into the classroom. Cashmere deliberately rubbed up against Sperantia's guard as she squeezed by him on her way into the small room. The soldier couldn't have been any older than me, and was visibly flustered by the close contact with Cashmere.

"Excuse me, Soldier," she purred to the blushing guard. She chuckled throatily at the man's obvious discomfort. Gloss and Enobaria just shook their heads, amused by Cashmere's behavior.

I waited until they had all entered the classroom before replying to Sperantia. "Okay," I said. "You wanted to talk. So, talk."

"Why did you do it?" she asked bluntly.

"Defy Coin, you mean?" I asked.

She nodded. "Yes. I'm not your friend. I mean nothing to you. And I think that you, and everyone here, are traitors to Panem and to President Snow. So, why do it? Why risk yourself getting in trouble because of me?"

"Simple," I replied. "Because it was the right thing to do."

"I don't get it," Sperantia said, confused. "You do this, even though I hate everything that you stand for?"

"Would you rather I hadn't said anything?" I asked pointedly.

Sperantia shook her head and looked at the floor. "No," she said softly. She looked back up at me. "I guess I should thank you."

"If you do thank me, would you really mean it?" I asked. "It means nothing if you aren't sincere." I raised my voice slightly so that Andromeda, still hunkered down nearby with her back to the wall, could hear. "Like saying you're sorry for something you said or did, and not really meaning it. You know, people sometimes say or do things in the heat of the moment that they didn't really mean, and regret later. So, they have to be sincere if they apologize later."

Sperantia mulled my words over for a moment before replying. "Thank you."

I gave her a small grin. "You're welcome."

Just then, Prim stuck her head out of the classroom. "Okay, everyone. Let's get back to it."

Wordlessly, both Sperantia and Andromeda entered the classroom. I moved to follow them, but stopped when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned to see Johanna, along with Finnick and Annie, looking at me quizzically.

"Making new friends?" Johanna asked bluntly.

I shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe the first thing we need to do is to work on not being enemies."

"Winning their hearts and minds," Finnick added with a smile, "one Capitolite at a time."

If that's what it takes, I said to myself as I followed them back inside.

PART V

I could feel Katniss's fingernails – or what was left of them, as she had nervously nibbled them down to nothing – dig into my palm as I sat next to her on her hospital bed. She was sitting on the side of the bed as Dr. Fenster snipped carefully at the bandages that swathed her head, as Mrs. Everdeen, Prim, and Johanna looked on nervously.

Fenster carefully laid the scissors down on a nearby tray. "I'm going to remove the outer bandages now, Katniss," he said gently, as he began to expertly unroll the gauze. I could feel Katniss trembling as I held her hand.

The bandages were removed quickly. All that remained was a medicated patch covering each eye, and held in place by strips of adhesive tape. Katniss winced as Fenster quickly removed all but one strip of tape from each patch. He examined his work critically and then turned to Mrs. Everdeen.

"Ma'am, could you please turn off all the lights except the emergency floor lamp?" he asked.

Mrs. Everdeen nodded, and soon the room was lit only by the softly glowing strips along the walls that were in place just above the floor. These lights were always illuminated in the event of a sudden power loss or other emergency, and gave off just enough light to be able to navigate through the room.

"Thank you," Fenster said quietly. He turned to Katniss. "Katniss, I'm going to remove the patches now. I want you to shield your eyes with one hand and keep your eyes closed until I tell you to open them."

"Okay," she whispered as she shielded her eyes with her free hand.

Fenster reached under her hand and quickly removed the patches. "All right, Katniss. Lower your hand."

She did, and I could see, even in the dim light, how reddened and angry the skin around her eyes looked. Her grip tightened on my hand and she flinched slightly as Fenster's fingers probed delicately around each closed eye. He then extended one hand a short distance from Katniss's face, and splayed his fingers open.

"Keep your eyes shaded, Katniss, but go ahead and open them," he instructed, "and tell me what you see."

I watched, feeling my heart pound in my chest, as Katniss's eyes slowly opened. She frowned slightly and blinked rapidly, leaning forward as if she was examining something up close.

"What do you see, Katniss?" Fenster asked softly.

"Five, right?" Katniss choked out. She blinked again and her lips curled up in a grin. "There's five fingers?"

Fenster breathed a sigh of relief. "Exactly five," he said with a grin of his own.

"They work." The relief in Katniss's voice was obvious.

Mrs. Everdeen and Prim swarmed over Katniss, crying with relief. I'm not ashamed to admit that I added my own tears of relief to theirs. Even Johanna gave her a quick hug. Dr. Fenster, of course, quickly reverted to his mask of medical professionalism.

He pulled a pair of dark glasses from his lab coat pocket. "Wear these for the next day or two whenever you're in normal light," he said firmly. "And for at least a week if you go topside." He stood up. "I'll check on you in the morning. Get some rest and no visitors, other than who's in this room right now, until tomorrow." He gave her a quick smile. "You'll remain in here until morning. If there's no problems, I see no reason why you can't be discharged tomorrow."

"We'll see that she's not bothered," Mrs. Everdeen promised.

Dr. Fenster didn't remain long after that, leaving soon with Johanna in tow. Dammit, I really need to find out what's going on between them. He's just about the last guy I would think that Johanna would be attracted to! Katniss, too, noticed the connection, silently asking me what was going on. Of course, all I could do was shrug my shoulders in response.

I was surprised that Mrs. Everdeen and Prim didn't stay longer, but they both had early shifts to work in the morning. It was obvious to both Katniss and me that they were both exhausted – their normal duties were strenuous enough, without the worry of Katniss's injuries to deal with at the same time. I think Katniss was relieved when they both finally said goodnight.

Prim carefully shut the door as she and her mother left. I waited until I heard the latch click home before taking Katniss into my arms, holding her close to me and kissing her for the first time since before her ill-fated trip to District Eight. Katniss clung to me tightly and we remained like that for some time, just holding each other, until finally Katniss let go and stared into my face intently.

"What have I missed?" she finally asked.

"Nothing much," I murmured. "Just the usual."

Her lips twitched up in a smile. "So, you standing up to Coin is 'the usual?'"

"You knew about that?" I asked in surprise.

"Yes," Katniss replied gently. "And why you did it, too."

"It was the right thing to do," I said, somewhat defensively.

"I've never been more proud of you," Katniss whispered. "Why did you act like nothing's been happening while I've been in here?"

"Katniss," I said slowly, "until a couple of hours ago, you didn't know if you would ever see again." I pulled her close and kissed her forehead. "You had other things to worry about."

She brushed her lips against mine. "You still need to catch me up." Her arms tightened around me and she rested her face against my chest. "Come tomorrow, I'll be outta here. And I don't want any surprises."

"Wait a minute," I said. "How did you know about me and Coin?"

She chuckled softly. "The staff here likes to gossip, and you would be surprised at how sensitive my hearing got when I couldn't see anything." I shivered slightly when she nuzzled my neck.

"Katniss," I said, somewhat breathlessly, "maybe you better –"

"I know," she said with a sigh. "We're in a hospital, and besides, there's your…problem."

"I don't think it's much of a problem," I admitted sheepishly. "But we are in a hospital, like you said."

"Then maybe you better make sure that you don't have plans for tomorrow night," she whispered.

And, as I kissed her again, I decided that I most certainly had no plans for tomorrow night. As for bringing her up to date on everything, well, that could wait until tomorrow also.

Right now, I had more important things to do.