CHAPTER 18

PART I

"We're going to be working in the hospital today," Prim announced. "Once we're in the field, each of you will be assigned to work under the direct supervision of a trained medic. So, you'll need – yes, Cashmere?"

"One question, teacher," Cashmere said snidely. "I understood that we'll be there performing for the cameras. So why waste time teaching us a bunch of medical shit that we don't really need to know?"

"Allow me to answer that, Primrose," a familiar, cultured voice said from the back of the room. I twisted around in my seat and allowed myself a quick grin at Cashmere's expense as Dr. Josephus Picardo continued to speak. "And this is for the benefit of you all – not just the esteemed Victor from District One. This relief effort will be treating badly injured people around the clock while we are in District Eight. That means that much of what is done will be performed when the cameras are not recording your heroic efforts for posterity. And if you don't learn, and practice, rudimentary medical skills, your presence will quickly cease to be an asset, and you will find yourselves becoming liabilities instead. And that, my dear Cashmere, would be most unfortunate." He fixed Cashmere with his steady gaze the entire time that he was talking. "In other words, you can't fake this. Does that answer your question?"

Cashmere actually looked embarrassed. She nodded and mumbled something that could have been her indicating that she understood. Cashmere had been one of the most popular Victors ever, and the closest thing that District One had to royalty, and it was obvious that she was not used to being lectured to like a schoolgirl caught passing a note. Beside me, I heard Johanna stifle a laugh, which earned her a glare from Gloss.

"I think I made my point," Picardo said smoothly. Turning to Prim, he said, "Please continue."

Prim cleared her throat. "Anyway, we'll be working in the hospital today. You will be working under the supervision of a trained medic. You will be given simple tasks – checking vital signs, monitoring urine output –"

At that, Enobaria leaned forward and said to Gloss teasingly, "Oh, piss boy!"

"- and assisting with changing dressings, if needed. Any questions?" There were none. "The patients that you will be treating today have all been wounded in combat. Some of their wounds are severe. If you feel yourself getting sick, and you need to leave, we understand."

"We're all Victors," Enobaria pointed out with a sneer. "We've all seen worse."

"And we've all had nightmares because of it," Finnick pointed out. "Even you, Eno. I've heard your screams in the middle of the night more than once."

"Just remember," Picardo added quickly, sensing another war of words threatening to erupt between the Career and non-Career Victor camps, "in the arena, you practiced the best ways to take people apart. Here, you will be learning how to put them back together. Remember that."

"All right," Prim said, as she opened the classroom door, "let's go."

We were going to be working in Post-Op Ward Alpha – a large, open room with perhaps twenty beds, all of them occupied. We all paired up with trained doctors, nurses, or medics. I wasn't surprised when Prim told me that I would be working with her. It also came as no surprise that Nils Fenster was included in today's training, and partnered with Johanna. Nils and Johanna were perhaps the second-oddest couple in District Thirteen, after Haymitch and Effie. Picardo, to my surprise, paired with Cashmere, leaving Gloss with an unsmiling female medic as tall and broad-shouldered as he was. Mrs. Everdeen took Andromeda Snow, Finnick – who insisted on remaining with Annie during training – got an obviously star-struck nurse – proof that his charisma penetrated even the depths of District Thirteen.

That left Enobaria and Sperantia Blackstone. Eno ended up paired with Dr. Aurelius. He later explained that, even though he was a psychiatrist by training, he also performed general surgery. I'm sure his pairing with Eno was no accident. District Two Victors were widely considered the most brutal of the Career Victors, and Enobaria, with her sharpened teeth, was a head doctor's dream patient. As for Sperantia, she ended up being paired with a medic that I instantly recognized, and, from his look of surprise when he saw me, recognized me as well.

It was the medic on the hovercraft that plucked me, and the other Victor prisoners, out of the Capitol. And this medic was the one that suggested that Sperantia be bled dry to save Rory Hawthorne's life.

"Prim," I asked softly, "would you mind very much working with Sperantia instead of me?"

"I suppose not," she replied reluctantly. "But I don't think she likes me very much," she added quietly.

"Thanks," I whispered. "I'll explain later."

Prim simply nodded. I beckoned Sperantia and her trainer over to me. "Change of plans," I explained. "Sperantia, you're with Prim." I looked the medic square in the eye. "I'm with you. Any objections?"

"No," the man muttered, dropping his gaze to the floor.

"Good," I said with a tight smile. Turning to Sperantia, I said, "You go on, now. Pay attention to Prim. You'll learn a lot from her."

It was obvious that she was confused by the switch, but she didn't argue. Wordlessly, she joined Prim. "All right," I said, "I think we're set. Let's get started."

Maybe you'll even thank me later, I said to myself as I watched Prim and Sperantia move to their first patient. Then again, maybe not. I would rather not tell her that the man that she had been originally paired with discussed the possibility of killing her so that another may survive, and did so with no more hesitation that I would display at killing a mouse, or a rat.

My first patient was unconscious, so the only conversation was between my trainer and me. It consisted entirely of him directing me to perform tasks like taking blood pressure readings and emptying the urine bag that was slung under the bed. I finished quickly, and that gave me time to watch Andromeda Snow help treat her very first patient.

Mrs. Everdeen was a patient teacher. It was obvious that Andromeda was uncomfortable being in a room full of men and women that had been wounded fighting a war against her grandfather. It didn't help that literally everyone knew who she was, and who she was related to. I was glad that I was working one bed over from her, as I was close enough to come to her aid if she encountered a particularly nasty patient.

Fortunately, that didn't happen.

I discovered much later that the hospital staff – Dr. Josephus Picardo in particular – had admonished the patients to curb their hostility. They pointed out that Andromeda had willingly defected, and had been instrumental in the rescue of myself and the other Victor prisoners. The warnings seemed to work. There may have been a few glares cast her way, but that was as bad as it got.

"All right," I heard Mrs. Everdeen say as I finished up with my patient, "just like you practiced. Take the patient's temperature, blood pressure, pulse, and measure his blood oxygen levels. Ask him if he is in any pain, and, if so, how severe his pain is on a scale of one to ten. Ask him if he needs anything. Keep talking to him and, above all, reassure him. Patients tend to heal faster if they think that they're doing well."

Andromeda nodded and took a deep breath. "Hello," she said to the figure in the bed. "My name is Andromeda. I'll be taking your vital signs."

The young soldier in the bed stirred slightly and turned his head towards her voice. "What kind of name is 'Andromeda?'" he asked as the corners of his mouth twitched upward in a small grin.

"I was named after a constellation," Andromeda replied, reddening slightly at his mocking tone.

"A constellation?" He chuckled as Andromeda wrapped a blood pressure cuff around his upper arm.

"Yes," she replied tartly as the blood pressure cuff began to inflate. "A constellation. It's a grouping of stars."

"I know what a constellation is, Capitol Girl," the young soldier said teasingly. Andromeda reddened even more. "You are a rich Capitol girl, right?"

"I'm from the Capitol, yes," she admitted as she popped a thermometer in his mouth and placed two fingers on his wrist to take his pulse.

"I know," the young soldier said, once Andromeda removed the thermometer from his mouth. As she recorded his temperature, pulse, and blood pressure, he continued, "Your last name is Snow, isn't it?"

"Yes," she whispered as she dropped her eyes to the floor.

"July," Mrs. Everdeen admonished gently, "that's enough."

"I'm being good, Mrs. E," he protested. "Just asking her what her name is, is all."

Andromeda glanced at his chart. BARROW, J. was written boldly across the top. "Is that your name?" she asked. "Your first name is 'July?'"

"What of it?" July asked, somewhat defensively.

"What kind of name is 'July?'" Andromeda asked, her tone slightly mocking.

"I was born in July," he replied, somewhat defensively. "I –"

July paused when he realized what Andromeda had done. "Okay," he said with a grin. "We're even, Capitol Girl."

"I'm supposed to ask you if you are in any pain," Andromeda continued, remembering why she was here in the first place. "And if you are, how severe it is, on a scale –"

"Do you have a boyfriend, Capitol Girl?" July asked suddenly.

"What?" Andromeda was obviously surprised by the question. "That's none of your business…Soldier Barrow." She reddened again. "And I have a name," she added lamely.

"So do I," July pointed out. "And it ain't 'Soldier.'"

"Andromeda," Mrs. Everdeen said softly, "we have other patients to see."

"Yes, ma'am," Andromeda nodded. Turning back to July, she asked, "Are you in pain?"

"That depends," July replied, "on how you answer two questions."

Andromeda sighed impatiently. "What questions?"

July fixed his gaze on hers. "Do you have a boyfriend, and will you come see me again?"

Andromeda hesitated until she could break the lock that July's eyes had on hers. "No," she admitted softly. "And yes," she added.

July smiled. "Now was that so hard?"

"Now answer my question," Andromeda insisted. "Are you in any pain?"

"Not anymore," July replied happily.

"All right," Mrs. Everdeen said firmly, shaking her head in exasperation at July. "I think we're done here. Andromeda –"

"Mrs. Everdeen," Andromeda pointed out, "you told me to ask if the patient needed anything." Turning to July, she said, "Do you need anything?"

"Yes," July nodded. "I need you to come see me again soon…Andromeda."

"I will…July," Andromeda promised.

As Andromeda packed up the blood pressure cuff, thermometer, and other items, Mrs. Everdeen bent over July's bed and spoke to him so softly that I couldn't hear what she was saying. Of course, it didn't help that the medic I was working with was impatient to get on to the next wounded soldier. I had a feeling that I made him uncomfortable, and, what's more, I didn't really care.

As Andromeda passed me I tried to catch her eye and give her a smile, but she walked by me like I wasn't even there. July noticed the cold shoulder that Andromeda gave me and beckoned me over.

"Brrr," he said, making a shivering gesture. "What'd you do to piss her off?"

I smiled ruefully. "Oh, just told her that I want to kill her grandfather. You know…the kind of shit that girls don't seem to appreciate."

July whistled softly. "Maybe I shouldn't be seen talking to you, then."

"Maybe not," I agreed jokingly. "I'm surprised, July. I thought you pretty much hated everyone and everything associated with the Capitol. Yet, you seem to like her."

"Well," July said in a guarded tone, "That Capitol doc, Picardo, ain't so bad. And Andromeda did willingly defect. That took a lot of guts, especially with a last name of Snow," he added, admiration in his voice. "Now, that other girl…she's another story. But yeah, I do like Andromeda."

"Say, what did Mrs. Everdeen say to you right before they left?" I asked.

July chuckled. "She said that if I'm well enough to flirt with pretty girls, then I'm well enough to be discharged." He shrugged. "Not soon enough for me, Peeta. Besides, I can't get to know Andromeda if I'm laid up here."

"Good point," I nodded. "I'll talk to you later, July. My trainer is anxious to move on."

"See you, Peeta." I glanced back at July one last time before I moved on to my next patient. He was staring up at the ceiling with a funny little smile. Talk about worlds colliding, I said to myself with a grin. President Snow's granddaughter and a District Twelve Community Home kid. I just hope that their backgrounds don't become a problem – for either one of them.

PART II

Primrose Everdeen led her trainee to the next bed. So far, she's done well, Prim said to herself. I just wish I could break through her shell. "Next patient," Prim announced as she handed a chart to her trainee. "Soldier Rory Hawthorne."

Rory had been dozing, and his eyes fluttered open at the sound of his name. He smiled up at Prim. "Hey, Prim."

Prim grinned at Rory, brushing her hand lightly over his forehead as she pushed a stray lock of hair away from his eyes. "Hey, yourself," she replied. "We're doing rounds. This is Sperantia Blackstone. I'm training her."

"Oh, yeah," Rory said, turning to look at Sperantia as she wordlessly began to work. "The girl that gave me blood."

Sperantia had been inflating the blood pressure cuff around Rory's arm. "What?" she asked, as she stared at Rory in surprise.

Rory glanced over at Prim. "She doesn't know?"

"Know what?" Sperantia demanded. "What do you mean, 'the girl that gave me blood?'"

"No one told you?" Prim replied in surprise.

Sperantia dropped the instruments that she had been holding and stood up. "No one said anything to me," she said through clenched teeth. As her voice began to rise, she continued, "Are you trying to say that I gave him blood?"

"Well, you didn't exactly give him blood," Prim said, trying to keep her voice low and soothing. "You were sedated at the time, and Rory had lost too much blood. So, the medics on the hovercraft did a direct transfusion from you to him." Prim looked at Sperantia apologetically. "I'm sorry," she continued softly. "I thought you knew."

"Well, I didn't!" Sperantia said angrily. Prim tensed when she saw Sperantia's hands clench into fists. But Sperantia didn't hit her. Instead, she sank to her knees by the bed and began to cry.

"I can't, I can't," she sobbed softly. "You people steal my blood, you want to kill me, and I can't…can't do this anymore!" Sperantia looked up at Prim, her face streaked with tears. "I've tried to be strong, but I can't. I…I just want to go home…"

"Is there a problem here?" Prim turned and saw a stern-faced medic, his arms crossed in front of his chest, glaring down at Sperantia.

"No," Prim said quickly, as she stepped between the medic and Sperantia. "There's no problem."

"Hmmpf," he grunted. "If the sick and injured bother you, Loyalist," he said to Sperantia, "then maybe this won't work out after all."

"She's fine," Prim insisted. "Just a little overwhelmed, that's all."

The medic looked unconvinced. "If you say so, Miss Everdeen," he grumbled. "But if she gives you any trouble, just say the word, and she'll be back in lock-up in no time."

"She's fine," Prim repeated firmly. "She just needs a minute. Okay?"

The medic nodded once, curtly, before turning and striding away. As he walked away, Prim turned and looked down at Sperantia. "Do you want some water or something?" she asked softly.

Sperantia awkwardly wiped her eyes with the heels of her hands. "Why did you do that?" she asked. "You didn't have to do that. You could have been rid of me right then."

"Maybe," Prim said as she squatted down next to Sperantia, "maybe I don't want to be rid of you."

"That makes no sense," Sperantia said with a shake of her head. "I'm doing this because I'm being forced to. Even Meda is here because she wants to be. I've given you no reason to want to help me."

"Look," Prim said. "I know you don't want to be here. If I was in the Capitol like you are here, I wouldn't want to be there either. But you're here, and not there…and I don't need a reason to want to help someone."

"Just because?" Sperantia asked doubtfully.

"Just because," Prim replied with a smile.

"And you don't hate me?" Sperantia asked.

Rory spoke for the first time since his revelation about receiving Sperantia's blood. "We can hate what the Capitol stands for and we can even hate people like President Snow, and Peacekeepers. That doesn't mean we hate everybody. I've met some good Capitol people, like Dr. Picardo, and Effie Trinket, and Cinna. And, by the way, thank you for your blood."

Prim looked at Rory admirably. He's a lot different from the angry boy carving notches on his gun for each Peacekeeper that he killed, she thought. "Rory's right, Sperantia. Besides, what will happen to us after the war if we keep hating?"

Sperantia shook her head. "You district people are so strange," she whispered.

Prim put her hand on Sperantia's shoulder. "Listen. I think we're done for today. I have an idea. My sister is out of the hospital, and we've been given special permission to have dinner in our quarters tonight instead of going to our assigned mess hall. If you want, I'll fix it so you can eat with us."

Sperantia looked at Prim in amazement. "You want me to come to dinner?"

Prim nodded. "If you want to."

Sperantia thought about it for a moment before nodding. "Okay. I accept."

Prim smiled. "Great!" She stood up. "Let's put our instruments away."

"Hey!" Rory said. "I don't get an invite? No fair…I've been cooped up here long enough."

"Later," Prim said as she bent and kissed Rory on the forehead. "Once you're out of here. Until then, be good!"

Rory watched the two girls as they walked out of the ward. She's okay, I guess, for a Capitol girl, he said to himself. He sighed. Prim kissed me on the forehead! I have something to look forward to once I'm outta here.

Rory Hawthorne felt better than he had in days.

I popped my head into the classroom. "You wanted to talk to me, Prim?" I asked.

"Hey, Peeta." Prim looked up from the PADD that she had been studying and smiled. "Yeah, really quick. About tonight."

Tonight was Katniss's welcome home dinner. "I'll be there at six," I said, returning her smile.

"There's a couple of extra guests," Prim continued. "I've invited Sperantia Blackstone." Quickly, she brought me up-to-date on Sperantia's "episode" in Post-Op Ward Alpha.

When she finished, I whistled softly. "She really cried, huh?" I wondered how I managed to miss all the commotion, even though I had been working at the opposite end of the ward when it had occurred.

"I felt really bad for her," Prim said. "I thought maybe it would help if she was able to share a meal with people that didn't act like they hate her."

I was unconvinced. "We'll see," I said. "You said a 'couple of extra guests.' Who are the others?"

"Just one," Prim replied. "Andromeda Snow." She quickly raised one hand, palm out. "And before you say anything, just listen for a minute. I know Andromeda is mad at you for some things that you said –"

"Prim, I told her that I want to kill her grandfather!"

Prim ignored me. "- and Sperantia is angry with Andromeda for what she sees as her betrayal. Peeta, we're going to that refugee camp in Eight in a matter of days. They want to use us all as propaganda showing us united to help the bombing victims. And to do that, we can't have people angry at each other."

I rubbed my chin thoughtfully. "Is this Plutarch's idea?"

"It's mine," Prim said. "Peeta, I may only be fourteen, but even I can see that a bunch of people hating on each other in a propo isn't gonna work."

"You have a point," I said admiringly. I sighed. "Okay. I've been meaning to speak to Andromeda anyway. I guess tonight's as good a night as any, as long as Katniss is alright with it."

"I've already spoken to her about it," Prim said. "She's like you. Skeptical. But she's willing to try."

I nodded. "Okay. Let's hope it works." Something else that Prim said finally registered with me. "Wait a minute. You just said, 'We're going to that refugee camp in Eight.' What exactly does that mean, 'We're going?'"

Prim hesitated. "I haven't told Katniss yet," she replied reluctantly, "but I'm going too."

I stared at Prim in amazement. "Well, tonight should be very interesting," is all I could think to say.

Very interesting, indeed.

PART III

"I wish you would have talked to me first, Primrose," Mrs. Everdeen said with a heavy sigh. "This was supposed to be your sister's welcome home dinner. You may have turned a nice family evening into a mini-Rebellion."

It's never good when Mom calls me "Primrose," Prim thought. "Mom, I just thought that having them over, with just a few people around, would help them, you know, adjust and –"

"Help who adjust?" Katniss asked as she walked into the room. She was still wearing darkened glasses. "There's others coming over tonight?"

"Your sister invited two more guests," Mrs. Everdeen explained. "Andromeda Snow and Sperantia Blackstone."

"I thought it would help," Prim said defensively. "You know, with the propo coming up in the District Eight refugee camp and all."

Katniss turned and faced her sister. I hate that I can't see her eyes right now, Prim thought. "Prim, that may not have been the best idea," she finally said after a moment. "Considering how Andromeda feels about Peeta right now, and how Sperantia feels about…well, everyone."

"If not now, when?" Prim asked. "You start training in the morning. We're gonna be busy right up until the moment we leave. Do you really want to go back to Eight and try to make convincing propos with angry, hateful people? No one will believe them."

"That's Plutarch's problem, Prim," Katniss pointed out. "And Messalla's. Not yours. And what's this 'we' business?"

Prim reddened slightly. "It's everyone's problem, if people aren't getting along. At least the Career Victors were able to set aside their differences with everyone. Andromeda and Sperantia have more personal issues to deal with."

Katniss shook her head impatiently. "Forget about them for a minute and answer my question, Prim. What did you mean by 'we?'"

Prim hesitated for a moment before replying. "I'm going too."

"No!" Katniss reached out and grabbed Prim's shoulders. She's put on weight and she's much stronger now, Katniss said to herself in surprise. She's not the skinny little girl that I remember. "Out of the question! No way are you going!"

"Katniss –"

"Don't argue, Prim," Katniss said firmly. "First thing tomorrow, I'm gonna talk to Boggs. He'll fix this and –"

"NO!" Prim wrenched herself away from Katniss's grip. "Katniss, please! I don't want you talking to Boggs, or Coin, or anyone else." She was near tears, but bit them back. "I asked to go to Eight."

"You asked?" Katniss gasped. She spun and faced her mother. "You knew about this, didn't you?"

"I did," Mrs. Everdeen replied calmly.

"And you're okay with this?" Katniss said, her voice rising. "Mom, how could you?"

"No, I'm not 'okay' with this!" Mrs. Everdeen said sharply. "Just like I wasn't 'okay' with her being Reaped, and you volunteering for her. Or with you going off to fight a war." She paused and took a deep breath. "But I couldn't do anything about the Games. Just like I can't do anything about this damned war. All I can do is hope that it ends quickly." She looked at her daughters fondly. "Katniss, you've done what you've had to do. Prim is doing what she has to do." She smiled sadly. "The worst thing that I could do is to try to stop either one of you."

"She can't go," Katniss insisted. She turned back to Prim. "Prim, you're only fourteen!"

"So is Rory," Prim pointed out. "And he almost got killed rescuing Peeta and the others. And what about Andromeda and Sperantia? They're only fourteen, and they're both going."

"That's different," Katniss said, but the fire had gone out of her voice. "Rory has been trained as a soldier. Andromeda and Sperantia don't have any choice. You do!" Katniss took off her glasses, squinting slightly as the light hit her eyes. She stared into Prim's blue eyes. "You don't have any idea of what you will see out there. It's ugly, Prim! It's ugly and awful and –"

"- and I've been ankle-deep in it for months," Prim finished. "Katniss, I work in the hospital. Mom and I see it every day. Do you think it was easy to see Rory and July come in, all shot up? Or Peeta? He's lucky to be alive after what they did to him. Or –" once again she blinked back tears "- you?" She shook her head. "Mom and I took care of Peeta when he was whipped during your Games. We took care of Rory when he was whipped for poaching. Both of us have seen suffering. So, I know how ugly and awful it is."

Katniss looked at her mother. "Mom?"

Mrs. Everdeen shook her head sadly. "If I had a choice, all of us would be living in peace and safety, with no worries about the Capitol, or Peacekeepers, or the Games, or of going cold and hungry." She stepped forward and wrapped an arm around each of her daughters. "But I don't. Not yet, anyway." She smiled at Katniss and Prim. "But I will. We will. The Capitol can't beat us. Not with people like Katniss and Primrose Everdeen on our side. I am so very, very proud of you both. And your father would be, too, if he were here."

Katniss wiped tears from her eyes, wincing painfully, and slipped her glasses back on. "I guess you have a point, Mom," she said reluctantly. Smiling sadly at her sister, she said, "When did you grow up and get so damn strong?"

"I didn't," Prim said as she hugged her sister and mother. "It's a trait that all us Everdeen women share."

I ran into Sperantia Blackstone and her "escort" (read: guard) on my way to the Everdeen's quarters.

"Right on time," I said as we waited for the elevator.

"I guess," Sperantia muttered. She was definitely a reluctant participant tonight. And I'm sure having to be escorted didn't exactly make her feel comfortable.

The elevator clanked to a stop on our floor. I turned to the guard. "I can escort her from here," I said. "I know the way."

The guard hesitated. "My orders were to stay with her."

"All night?" I asked. "What were you gonna do? Stare at her while she eats dinner?"

"Uhh…uhh, no," the guard stammered. "I mean, I was to wait outside the Everdeen's quarters."

"Look," I said reasonably, "she's wearing an ankle tracker. She's with me. She's my responsibility, okay?"

"Well –"

"You know who I am, right?" I despised people pulling the "do you know who I am" card, but this guy wasn't budging.

"Uhh…yes," the guard admitted.

I gave him what I hoped was a friendly, sincere smile. "If anything happens, you can blame it on me, okay?"

The guard glanced at me, then at Sperantia. "You assume full responsibility?"

"Absolutely," I replied with a nod.

"She's to be back in quarters by twenty-two hundred," the guard said firmly. "If she's so much as a minute late, it will be her ass…and yours."

"Fine," I said as I slid the elevator gate open and I ushered Sperantia in. "She'll be back long before then."

I slid the gate shut and started the elevator moving before he could change his mind. I glanced over at Sperantia. "Is this better?"

"Yeah," she muttered, and then looked up at me. "Thanks."

"I just figured it would be a little easier for you to relax if you didn't have a District Thirteen guard looming over you," I said.

"It is," she admitted. She pointed at my cane. "How much longer do you need that?"

"I really don't need it anymore," I replied. "It helps sometimes, though."

"Well, what if I decided to run?" she asked. "You couldn't catch me."

"First," I said, "you are in District Thirteen. There's no place for you to run. Second, you're wearing an ankle tracker that can instantly pinpoint your whereabouts twenty-four hours a day. Finally, and this is most important –"

I paused. "What?" she asked impatiently.

"If you ran, my ass would be in a sling." I looked at her sternly. "So, don't get any ideas."

"Okay, okay," she huffed. And then she did something that I had never heard her do up until that very moment.

Sperantia Blackstone let out a small giggle.

Maybe there's hope that we can break through that shell of yours after all, I said to myself. I sighed inwardly. It was ironic that this girl, who, just a few weeks earlier, would have gladly watched my televised execution, was actually warming up to me, while Andromeda Snow, who literally sacrificed her entire way of life to save me, now wouldn't give me the time of day.

No doubt about it, I have my work cut out for me.

By forcing Andromeda Snow and Sperantia Blackstone into the same room, one of three things would most likely happen – there would be a fight to rival the most epic battles of the Rebellion, there would be stony, sullen silence from both girls, or there would be a combination of the two. Either an immediate fight would settle into silence, or silence would escalate into a battle between the two.

As it so happened, there was a fourth alternative – courtesy of the guest of honor. Who would have ever guessed that Katniss Everdeen could be diplomatic?

Sperantia and I, by some fluke of timing, arrived outside the Everdeen's quarters at the same moment that Andromeda did. And, the initial reaction was predictable. Andromeda managed to somehow look guilty, embarrassed, and indignant all at the same time, while Sperantia's reaction was more reminiscent of Prim's cat, Buttercup, with his hackles raised in anger and a spitting hiss poised on his lips. It would have been almost comical if there wasn't so much at stake.

Sperantia found her voice first. "What is she doing here?" she hissed. Yep, the Buttercup comparison was spot-on.

Andromeda looked like she wanted to melt into the nearest wall. "She was invited, the same as you," I replied calmly.

"Well, I don't think I can do this. Not if she's going to be here as well," Sperantia said snippily.

"All right," I said amicably. "I'll just take you back to your quarters. If you're lucky, your mess hall will still be serving. At least you won't go hungry." I then turned to Andromeda. I'll be damned if I'm gonna let a fourteen-year-old Capitol girl intimidate me. "Unless you would rather go instead. I'm sure Mrs. Everdeen would be happy to call an escort for you, if you need help in finding your way back."

I watched each girl closely as I spoke. When they lived in the Capitol, they always had plenty of people around them – household staff, bodyguards, family, and friends. Both girls were gregarious by nature, and spending so much time alone – such as when they were in their quarters – was, for them, a foreign, unpleasant experience. I was hoping that neither girl was anxious to return to an evening of solitude too early.

I was right.

"Well?" I asked. "Sperantia? Do we stay…or go?"

"Stay," she grumbled after a moment's hesitation.

I nodded, once, before turning my attention to Andromeda. "How about you?" I asked.

"I'd…I'd like to stay also," Andromeda replied softly.

"All right," I said cheerfully. "Let's go on in, shall we?"

I rapped sharply on the door before I grabbed the handle and slid it open. "Oh – hey, Peeta," Prim called out when she saw me. I could see that she had a food container in each hand. "I see everyone's here," she continued as she carefully placed the containers on the table. "Come on in."

"Hi, Prim." I said as I stepped into the Everdeen quarters, flanked on each side by Andromeda and Sperantia. I had a feeling that Sperantia was using me as a buffer. No matter. They were both here and that's what really counted.

Mrs. Everdeen appeared and greeted us quickly. The aroma wafting up from the food containers was familiar enough – it was the typical mess hall food that was standard fare here in Thirteen. Katniss was already seated at the table. She looked up at me, an apologetic look on her face.

"Hi, Peeta," she said warmly as I leaned over to give her a quick kiss. She gestured at the table. "Mom and Prim wouldn't let me help. You know I don't like to just sit and be waited on."

"You're the guest of honor, Katniss," Mrs. Everdeen said firmly as she began to open the containers. It made sense that she would be serving mess hall food – family living quarters didn't have anything remotely resembling a kitchen – but I found myself longing for fresh meat courtesy of a well-placed Katniss Everdeen arrow, accompanied by bread, baked by my father's hand. I realized, with a pang of guilt, that I hadn't thought about my father for a long time. Somehow, I felt that he would understand, but that didn't stop a wave of emotion from crashing over me at his memory.

"Hey," Katniss said softly. "Are you all right?"

I glanced at Katniss, who was gazing at me through her dark glasses, concern written on her face. "Yeah," I replied with a quiet sigh. "Hey, I'm sure you remember Andromeda, but have you met Sperantia Blackstone?"

"Of course, I remember," Katniss said. "How are you, Meda?"

"I'm okay," she replied softly as she gave Katniss a somewhat shy smile. "I'm glad that your eyes are okay," she added.

"Me too," Katniss agreed, smiling in return. It seemed to me that her smile was somewhat forced. Katniss then turned towards Sperantia and extended her hand. "We've never actually met. I'm Katniss Everdeen."

After a moment or two, Sperantia took Katniss's hand. "I know who you are," she mumbled as she gave Katniss's hand a brief squeeze. "Nice to meet you," she added, somewhat reluctantly.

The tension in the room was thick, and growing thicker with each passing second. It was obvious that Katniss was not all that thrilled about having additional guests. The additional guests were not happy to be there, either. Something had to be done, and quickly.

"Welcome to you both," Mrs. Everdeen waved us into our seats. "And thank you for coming."

Once again, Andromeda and Sperantia were using me as a buffer. Mrs. Everdeen picked up a plate and addressed Andromeda. "They were surprisingly generous, Andromeda. How much would you –"

"Mom." Katniss reached out to take the plate. "I'll do it. Okay?"

I looked over at Prim and shrugged my shoulders slightly in a what's going on gesture. Prim just shook her head. I don't know. Surprised, Mrs. Everdeen handed the plate to Katniss. "I think," Katniss said as she nodded her thanks to her mother, "that Meda has a pretty good idea of what the Rebellion is all about. How about you, Sperantia? Do you know why we're fighting?"

"Katniss," Mrs. Everdeen said quickly, "I don't think that this is the time or place –"

"They're here," Katniss pointed out. "And I'm here. And no one else. No Coin, no Plutarch, no Boggs, no Haymitch. If not now, then when?" She turned back to Sperantia. "What do you know about the districts?"

"The districts each work to provide necessities for Panem to thrive," Sperantia recited. "The Capitol provides stability and security to the districts, and the Capitol oversees a fair division of assets among each of the twelve districts. In turn, the districts provide the Capitol with everything that it needs."

Katniss smiled grimly. "Right out of the same textbook that I studied. Do you believe it?"

Sperantia looked surprised. "I…I guess so."

"What if I told you that the book lied?"

"How could it?" Sperantia asked. "It was issued by the Ministry of Education."

Katniss turned to Andromeda. "Did you ever tell Sperantia about what you saw in District Twelve?"

Andromeda shook her head. "My…my grandfather said that I was not to speak of anything that I saw there, except that I met Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark."

"Well, he's not here right now," Katniss pointed out. "Andromeda, did Twelve look rich to you?"

"No."

"And how did most people live in Twelve?"

"In shacks," Andromeda whispered. "In a place called the Seam."

Katniss nodded. Still holding the plate, she quickly dished up tiny portions of food and placed the plate in front of Sperantia, and then did the same for Andromeda. "That's the portions that you could expect, living in the Seam." She took a third plate and put slightly larger portions on it before passing it to me. "And that is about what someone from town, like Peeta, could expect to eat."

Sperantia eyed the tiny mouthfuls on her plate. "There's almost nothing there," she said. "People would starve eating nothing but this."

"People did starve," Prim said. "All the time."

"And the Capitol didn't care," I added. "Their only concern was whether the coal miners were making their quotas, or falling behind."

"My father was a coal miner," Katniss said. "He was killed in a mine accident when I was eleven. Do you know what the Capitol did for us?" Sperantia shook her head. "They gave us a medal, and one month's wages. My father had just started to teach me how to hunt shortly before he was killed, but at first I wasn't big enough, or strong enough, to put food on our table. We almost starved."

"What happened?" Andromeda asked, almost breathlessly. That's right, I said to myself. She's never heard the story.

"Peeta," Katniss said, her voice catching slightly. "I was in town, trying to sell some of Prim's old baby clothes. By then, we had nothing else left to sell. It was pouring rain that day, and nobody wanted to buy the clothes. I knew I couldn't go home empty-handed, so I just sat under an old apple tree and waited to die. Peeta, he saw me, and threw me two loaves of bread that he had burned on purpose. That bread, that was enough to give me hope, and strength."

"Why did you burn the bread?" Sperantia asked. "It's no good if it's burnt."

"My family owned the bakery in District Twelve," I explained. "And you're right, to a point. We couldn't sell burned bread…but it could still be eaten. My mother told me to throw it to our pigs. I gave it to Katniss instead."

"And Peeta showed up to school the next day, with a black eye and bruises," Katniss said. "His mother had beaten him for burning the bread."

At this, Andromeda and Sperantia actually exchanged a glance between them. I'm sure that neither girl had ever been so much as swatted by their parents. It was unthinkable to them that a parent would beat their own child so severely as to cause black eyes and bruises. And, despite the grimness of the story, I smiled inwardly. The look that the girls exchanged was the first non-confrontational communication between them that I had ever seen.

"Sperantia," Prim said, "the boy that you helped treat earlier today – Rory? His father was also killed in the same mine accident. His mother was pregnant at the time with his little sister. She had to go to work washing clothes so her family wouldn't starve."

I leaned forward slightly. "Sperantia, what did the Capitol say why the districts were rebelling?"

She seemed surprised by the question and hesitated for a moment before replying. "Uhh…that the districts were misguided, and violating the Treaty of Treason, and that you were all upset about the Games –"

"The Games where, each year, twenty-three children died for the Capitol's amusement," I finished. "And where the Victors became the Capitol's property."

"That's not true!" Sperantia sputtered. "I've seen the Victors' Village in District One. The Victors there all lived in beautiful homes, and were all rich. They all looked happy, and –"

"Why don't you talk to them?" Katniss suggested, ice creeping into her voice. "Cashmere, Gloss, Enobaria. Ask them how happy they all were."

"Did you ever wonder why so many Victors sided with the Rebellion?" I asked. "Lyme is actively fighting in District Two. Wiress in Three, Mags in Four, Blight in Seven, Cecilia and Woof in Eight, Seeder in Eleven – all died fighting the Capitol." I shook my head. "The Capitol's promises to Victors were empty. I lost my leg in the arena. Chaff, from Eleven, lost a hand. Annie Cresta lost her mind. Every Victor that I know suffers from nightmares about their Games – even the Careers. Haymitch Abernathy and Johanna Mason lost their families because they wouldn't…cooperate…with President Snow."

"What do you mean," Andromeda whispered, "cooperate?"

I paused for a moment before glancing at Katniss. "I don't think I should –"

"President Snow," Katniss said woodenly, "would find certain Victors…desirable. These Victors he would –" she hesitated and clenched her hands into fists at the memory.

"Katniss," Mrs. Everdeen said softly, "you don't –"

"- sell," Katniss continued through clenched teeth. "To a rich Capitolite. To the highest bidder." Tears rolled out from under her dark glasses. "I was sold. On my 'Victory' Tour. I was sixteen at the time."

"So were others," I said hastily as both Prim and Mrs. Everdeen moved to embrace and comfort Katniss. "Finnick, Cashmere, Gloss, Enobaria – they were all expected to 'perform' whenever President Snow commanded them to perform. Johanna Mason refused. Her entire family died as a result."

"I didn't know," Andromeda said miserably.

"If you don't believe Katniss," I continued, "then ask Cashmere. Or Finnick. Or Enobaria." I looked at Andromeda. "Do you understand why I said what I said?"

Andromeda looked down at the table. "You…you don't know him like I do."

"And I never can," I replied softly. "We – all of us – are fighting for a free Panem. For everyone…district and Capitol alike." I turned to face Sperantia. "You and Andromeda are a part of that, whether you wanted it or not."

Sperantia looked uncertain. "I don't –"

"Look," Katniss said impatiently. "All of us in this room, except for my mother, are going to District Eight in just a few days. That means that we are all gonna have to work together. And we can't do that if you –" she pointed at Andromeda "- are angry at him –" she pointed at me "- and if you –" she pointed at Sperantia "- won't talk to her." She pointed back at Andromeda.

"I heard why we're going," Sperantia said. "It's to make the Rebellion look good to the Capitol."

"Would you rather be dead?" I asked.

"No," Sperantia replied, looking down at the table.

"You're right," Katniss said. "We're all going to help the nuking victims. But this isn't just about us, or you, or District Eight. This is about all of us. Thousands have already died in this war. We're trying to do what we can to prevent more people from dying." She looked at Sperantia. "What would the Capitol gain now by winning? Thirteen broken districts, that's what. Snow would exact his revenge on all of us. He would still be in power – but in power over what? Look what he's already done to Eight. Do you want that to happen to other districts as well?"

"We have to finish this," I added. "And the Rebellion must win, for the sake of the entire country. And it will go a long way if everyone, Capitol and district alike, can see district and Capitol, working together, to save lives."

"I can do it," Andromeda said softly.

"Even with me there?" I asked.

She nodded. "Yes." Andromeda looked at me intently. "I can understand, and forgive."

"Thank you," I said simply.

"How about you, Sperantia?" Katniss asked.

"I can try," she replied after a moment. "I can't promise any more than that. But you've given me a lot to think about."

The room was silent for a moment. Finally, Mrs. Everdeen said, "We should eat before this gets cold."

I wasn't surprised that no one had much of an appetite – but I felt oddly optimistic. At least, for the time being, it appeared that Andromeda and Sperantia were going to be cooperative. I just hoped that it would last.

"I feel like it's been ages since I've been alone in your quarters with you," Katniss whispered as our lips parted.

"Me too," I breathed, as my arms tightened around her.

She moaned softly as my hands dropped to her hips and pulled her closer to me. "It's been even longer since –" she sighed as my fingers tugged at the hem of the short robe that she was wearing.

"I know." She pressed her lips hungrily to mine once more as I fumbled with the tie of her robe. My hands slipped inside and brushed against warm, smooth skin. Katniss broke our kiss long enough to tug my shirt over my head before she grabbed the hem of my shorts and yanked them down. I pushed the robe off her shoulders and pulled her close to me once more, exploring her mouth with my tongue as she eagerly pressed herself against me.

"I love you," she whispered as her fingers grasped me, stroking gently.

I gasped with pleasure. "I love you, Katniss." I pulled back a little and stared into her eyes, now quickly glazing over with passion. In the dim light of my quarters there was no need for her dark glasses. As I watched, her eyes fluttered shut as she moaned again.

"You…you seem to have recovered nicely," she managed to say as I slowly lowered her to my bed.

We spent the next several hours exploring just how much I had recovered. I'm just thankful that the District Thirteen quarters were sound-proofed so well.