Ablaze

by awalkerlifeforme

Aspen Antaeus has escaped the Hunger Games twice. She has become the face of the rebellion against the Capitol. But there is one thing stopping her from assuming her role as the Mockingjay. Her husband, Cato Hadley, was left in the arena to die. But when Aspen is given proof that he lives on, she joins the fight. And she will not stop. Not until every inch of the Capitol is ablaze.

3. Chapter 3

A sound escaped me. What was it? That was a good question. Not a sound that I had ever thought that I could make. Not a sound that I had thought that any human being could make. It was the same combination of gasp and groan that came from being submerged in water, deprived of oxygen to the point of pain. I pushed people aside so that I could get to the screen. Even though I couldn't touch him, I needed to be near him. I needed to... just be there.

Some people stepped backwards to let me up closer to the screen. Others were trying to stand in front of the screen, just like I was. I practically stomped over Skye and Julie to get near the screen. They were trying to get close, too, but they stepped off to the side to let me be up front. Dean elbowed a few people out of the way so that I could be there. Cato's family was close, but no one was closer than me. Within two seconds I was right in front of him with my hand resting on the screen.

My entire body was flooded with relief. It might have been something even more than that. There was no way that I could tell what the feeling really was. It was just the happiest that I had felt in months. A number of people had told me that he was alive. They had said that there was a chance that he was alive and just being held captive in the Capitol. I had always thought that they were just trying to comfort me. But now I knew that it was the truth. He was alive. And I was going to get him back.

It just kept repeating in my mind. The idea that I was going to get my husband back. He was going to be back with me. He was going to be my husband again. Here, in District 13, safe and sound, where he belonged. In the back of my mind I had always been thinking that it wasn't a possibility. I had thought that he really was dead. But now I knew that it was the truth. He was right there. In the Capitol. Getting him back was a possibility. Not even just that. It was the eventual truth.

For a moment I broke my glance away from the screen to see what else was happening around the room. I had to know what was happening. Because it wasn't just me who would be thrilled with the idea that Cato was back and alive. There were a number of people who loved him. I wanted to gauge the reactions of the rest of the Hadley family. They were all clinging to each other, scattered throughout the room. Of course. Because they hadn't lost two children. I couldn't bring Leah back, but Cato was alive.

At least one of their children could be saved. Carrie had her head pushed into Dean's shoulder by now. I could see that her body was wracking with sobs. Marley was cooing at the screen, obviously recognizing her uncle. Skye and Julie had tears in their eyes that were about to slip down their faces. Their best friend was alive. Aidan had his hand over his mouth as he jumped up and down. Alana was down on her knees, sobbing wickedly, as Damien attempted to calm her down, hushing her gently.

They weren't sad tears. They were happy tears. Because her son was alive. She had lost her daughter, but her son was alive. My husband was alive... I noticed that Katniss and Gale were both looking at me. A number of people in the room were looking at me. Katniss was smiling, really smiling, for the first time in a long time. She grabbed my shoulder comfortingly. Gale had an unreadable mask on his face. He likely felt a little bit of happiness and depression at the fact that Cato was alive.

But he wouldn't say anything, even if he was angry, because he knew what this meant to me. My hand shot to my mouth as I let out another gasp and a strangled sob. Something very pathetic that was still choked. A second later my knees started buckling. A moment later Dean was at my side, keeping me supported. Carrie was smiling at me, her chin resting on Marley's head. Dean had his arms wrapped around me. I was about to cry as I rested a hand on his chest. But these were not sad tears.

"He's alive," Dean muttered.

"Cato... You're alive..." I whispered, my hand shaking against the screen.

"We're going to get him back, Aspen. We're going to get him," Dean said, his mouth near my ear.

A somewhat hysterical laugh escaped my throat. Cato was alive. He was okay. And it looked like he was safe. I turned back for a moment to notice that Brutus was in the room now. He must have been called in just when the broadcast started. He was standing with Alana and Damien. Of course, they were old friends. Brutus glanced over at me and gave me a little smile. The only one that he had ever given me. I gave a small one back, tears building in my eyes again. He was going to come back to me.

"Your husband is alive," Seneca said.

He had come up to stand next to me. I was so happy that I didn't care who was standing near me. So I threw myself onto Katniss and Gale, standing right in between them. They both laughed as I tightened my grip almost painfully around them. It had been a long time since they had seen me like this. A moment later I turned and threw myself onto Seneca, despite everything. He caught me in his arms, looking very surprised at my sudden actions and change of demeanor.

"I think that's the first time that you've ever given me a real hug," Seneca muttered in my ear.

In fact, I had a feeling that it was the only time that we had ever really hugged. "He's alive. I never thought I'd see him alive," I said, my voice very shaky.

Seneca pulled away from me a moment later. "I'll do everything in my power to get him here," he promised.

"Thank you," I said, my voice breaking.

"Anything for you, Aspen. I swear that to you," Seneca said.

His hand was on my shoulder and I nodded. Finally I turned back to the screen to look over Cato. I searched his so familiar eyes for any sign of hurt, any reflection of the agony of torture. There was nothing. Cato looked healthy to the point of robustness. His skin was glowing, flawless, in that full-body-polish way. His manner was composed, serious, as it was the first time that I had seen him at his first Reaping. I couldn't reconcile that image with the battered, bleeding boy who haunted my dreams.

In fact, he actually looked very healthy. He looked even healthier than I did. Of course, he was in the Capitol and they had the capability to keep him looking nice after the arena. I still had lingering scars and wounds. His hair had been shaved on the sides again and the hair in the middle had been brushed back. It looked like he had been shaved, too. He was in a pristine white suit that had obviously been recently ironed. He looked better than I could have ever imagined.

It was obvious that everyone else was thinking the same thing. That there was something strange about the way that he looked. I couldn't quite process the information. Had they really been taking that good of care of him? I had thought that they would be torturing him. Maybe he had been willing to work with them to get them to let him live. Maybe he had made a deal with them or something. Maybe he had been working hard to ensure his own survival.

In the end I supposed that it really didn't matter. I didn't care about anything like that. Not the muttering about why he looked so good. The only thing that mattered to me was that he was alive and looked to be rather well. Maybe a little nervous and off-put, but that was to be expected after being in the Capitol for as long as he had. We could talk about everything when he was here in District 13. Safe. With me. Exactly where he belonged.

The camera continued to pull back until it showed both of them. Looking reasonably pleasant. Tenser than normal but pleasant enough. Caesar looked about as demure as I had ever seen him. He was still dressed up but his personality was calm. He wasn't laughing, cheering, or waving. Maybe even he knew just how serious this was. Cato crossed his legs and placed his hands stiffly on his knee. Caesar settled himself more comfortably in the chair across from Cato and gave him a long look.

"Please welcome Mr. Cato Hadley," Caesar finally continued, after what had felt like an eternity. "So... Cato... welcome back."

Cato smiled slightly. The smile that I wished would have been given for me. "I bet you thought you'd done your last interview with me, Caesar," Cato said, as charming as ever.

"I confess, I did. The night before the Quarter Quell... well, who ever thought we'd see you again?" Caesar said.

"It wasn't part of my plan, that's for sure," Cato said with a frown.

My stomach twisted into knots. This hadn't been my plan either. Caesar leaned in to him a little. "I think it was clear to all of us what your plan was. To sacrifice yourself in the arena so that Aspen Antaeus and your child could survive," Caesar said, making my hand twitch slightly on the screen.

"Hadley," Cato muttered, almost absentmindedly.

That definitely caught Caesar off-guard. "Excuse me?" he asked.

"Hadley. She's still my wife. I haven't forgotten the wedding that you graciously gifted us," Cato said.

Caesar smiled slightly. "Of course. Pardon me. Aspen Hadley," he said.

Everyone was staring at me but I forced a even stare, looking straight into Cato's eyes, willing him to know that I was watching him. That I was here. But it wouldn't work. The only way that he would know that I was alive and well, here, waiting for him, would be if we could somehow get Cato and the others out of the Capitol. We would be able to do it. They would do it if they wanted me to play the role that they had already designed for me.

"That was it. Clear and simple," Cato continued, from Caesar's previous comment. Cato's fingers traced the upholstered pattern on the arm of the chair. "But other people had plans as well."

Yes, other people had plans. But not me. Cato knew my plan. To off myself so that he could live back in District 2. Because that was what he had always deserved. Had Cato guessed, then, how the rebels used us as pawns? How my rescue was arranged from the beginning? And finally, how our Mentor and fellow Tribute, Haymitch Abernathy, betrayed us both for a cause he pretended to have no interest in? How Brutus was the only one to keep his promise to keep me alive?

Suddenly my stomach churned with the thought that I hadn't bothered to think about before. Something that I had been too excited to see him alive to even think about. There was now the lingering fear that Cato might have been angry with me. Maybe thinking that I had been involved with this. But he had to have known better. Obviously he had to put on a front in front of the cameras, but I didn't know what he was saying that was real and what wasn't. His love for me... That was what was real.

In the heavy silence that followed, I noticed the lines that had formed between Cato's eyebrows. He had guessed or he had been told. But the Capitol had not killed or even punished him. Why not? Even to get to me, I would have thought that they would do something. Bruise him up a little bit, at least. For right now, that exceeded my wildest hopes. I drank in his wholeness, the soundness of his body and mind. It ran through me like the Morphling they gave me in the hospital, dulling the pain of the last weeks.

All this time I had been panicking over nothing. Because he wasn't dead. He wasn't even being hurt. Not like I had thought that he was, at least. Cato was alive and well the entire time. What a fool I had been. I should have thought a little harder. The Capitol was likely hoping that I would off myself after believing that they had killed him. That had been their plan, of course. Thankfully I hadn't actually gone through with it. Or it hadn't worked. Either way, I supposed.

"Cato, a lot of people feel as though they are in the dark," Caesar continued.

"Yeah, Yeah. I know how they feel," Cato said slowly.

Caesar chuckled softly. "Now, so set the stage for us. Why don't you tell us about that final and controversial night in the arena? Help us sort a few things out," Caesar suggested.

What was there to sort out? There was nothing for him to sort out. Cato didn't know the truth of the plans. I hadn't even known the truth of the plans until they had put me on that damned hovercraft. Cato nodded but took his time speaking. It didn't matter. Everyone, all over Panem, all of the people who had thought that he was dead, including me, would be hanging onto his every word, desperate to know what had really happened. At least, what Cato thought had happened.

"That last night... to tell you about that last night... well, first of all, you have to imagine how it felt in the arena. It was like being an insect trapped under a bowl filled with steaming air. And all around you, jungle... green and alive and ticking. That giant clock ticking away your life. Every hour promising some new horror. You have to imagine that in the past two days, sixteen people have died - some of them defending you. At the rate things are going, the last eight will be dead by morning. Save one. The Victor. And your plan is that it won't be you."

My body broke out in a sweat at the memory. A few more people had walked up behind me. To try and comfort me or pull me away, I wasn't sure. I felt Katniss's hand on my shoulder, but she didn't try to pull me away. Not right now. I wouldn't have left anyways. My hand slid down the screen and hung limply at my side. Cato didn't need a brush or pencil to paint images from the Games. He worked just as well in words. As he always had. His words were always an advantage.

They were what had attracted me to him, weren't they? Perhaps after his looks, at least. Of course... My heart gave a painful pang at his words. I was being an idiot. He had never once faltered on his plan. Even at the end. His plan was always to get me out of the Games alive. No matter what the cost could have been. He would have been willing to slaughter every person in there. Turn into the most violent and lethal Career in the history of the Games to keep me alive. Anything. Just if it meant that I walked out.

Which I had. At least, lifted out. Not what I had wanted. I wanted him to get out. I stared at Cato, drinking in the far-off look in his eyes. What are you thinking about? Me? Did he even know if I was alive or not? Maybe that he thought that he had given me a chance at a real life. A life that he had always thought that I could have had with Gale. The kind of life that I had only ever really wanted to have with Cato. And now I could... The moment that all of this was over.

"Once you're in the arena, the rest of the world becomes very distant," Cato finally continued. "All the people and things you loved or cared about almost cease to exist. The pink sky and the monsters in the jungle and the Tributes who want your blood become your final reality, the only one that ever mattered. As bad as it makes you feel, you're going to have to do some killing, because in the arena, you only get one wish. And it's very costly."

"It costs your life," Caesar said.

"Oh, no. It costs a lot more than your life. To murder innocent people? It costs everything you are," Cato said.

"Everything you are," Caesar repeated quietly.

A hush had fallen over the room, and I could feel it spreading across Panem. Anyone who had been speaking before was suddenly silenced. Because no one had ever heard someone speak like this. Particularly not a Career, who had once been jumping at the opportunity to go into the Games. No one had ever realized how taking the life of a child genuinely changed you. Some for the better... A nation leaning in toward its screens. Because no one had ever talked about what it was really like in the arena before.

No one had ever known what the true horrors in the arena were like. We were only allowed to speak so much about it. That it was hard. That it was scary. That was about the extent that they were allowed to say. We had never been allowed to speak freely like that before. But obviously things were much different now. Cato was not being monitored right now. At least, not as much as normal. Because things were already so bad all over Panem.

When had Cato become like this? Earlier than I had originally thought. Because of me. It started that night on the roof before the first Games. He had already been starting to change. But it was that night above the sleeping Careers. "Remember something. To murder an innocent person will change you. You'll never be the same. And there will be one person that haunts you forever." That was what Alana had told him. I exchanged a quick look with her. She was thinking the same thing. I could tell. Finally Cato went on.

"So you hold on to your wish. And that last night, yes, my wish was to save Aspen. But even without knowing about the rebels, it didn't feel right. Everything was too complicated. I found myself regretting I hadn't run off with her earlier in the day, as she had suggested. But there was no getting out of it at that point."

"But you didn't," Caesar said.

"No," Cato agreed.

"You were too caught up in Beetee's plan to electrify the salt lake," Caesar said.

"Too busy playing allies with the others. I should have never let them separate us!" Cato burst out. Caesar jumped slightly but Cato quickly regained his composure, speaking much softer the next time. "That's when I lost her."

A hand tightened on my shoulder. "Cato," I whispered.

"When you stayed at the lightning tree, and she and Johanna Mason took the coil of wire down to the water," Caesar clarified.

"I didn't want to!" Cato flushed in agitation. "But I couldn't argue with Beetee without indicating we were about to break away from the alliance. When that wire was cut, everything just went insane. I can only remember bits and pieces. Trying to find her. Watching Enobaria kill Chaff. She ran off before I could kill her myself. Trying to run off and find her, knowing everything was going to hell. I was just going to let them slaughter each other. We were going to wait it out. Spend a few days in the arena afterwards. We were hoping that they would just give us a few days. Just to be married."

"I think we would have all liked to see that," Caesar said quietly.

"I never got the chance to really be married to her," Cato continued softly.

"We were very regretful about that fact," Caesar said reassuringly.

He honestly believed that. But the rest of the Capitol just would have wanted to get it over with. I felt my stomach churning with nerves. My husband had been so determined to save me. The entire time. Even at the end. Even if it had meant his own life. He wanted to get a few nights with me. Then there begged the question. What would he have done? Killed himself while I slept so that I couldn't try and stop him? Wake up to be crowned the Victor? The thought made a silent tear fall.

"Tell us more about that night, Cato. What else happened?" Caesar asked.

"I know she was calling my name. Then the lightning bolt hit the tree, and the force field around the arena... blew out," Cato continued.

"Aspen blew it out, Cato," Caesar said.

"No."

"You've seen the footage."

"She didn't know what she was doing. None of us could follow Beetee's plan. You can see her trying to figure out what to do with that wire," Cato snapped back.

"All right. It just looks suspicious. As if she was part of the rebels' plan all along," Caesar said.

Obviously the quasi-friendship that I had once had with Caesar Flickerman was gone. Too bad, because I had almost liked him at one point. He had actually been rather kind to me. Of course, he likely thought that I was part of the plan to destroy the arena and start the rebellion. Faster than I had thought was possible, Cato reacted. Cato was now on his feet, leaning in to Caesar's face, hands locked on the arms of his interviewer's chair.

"Really? And was it part of her plan for Johanna to nearly kill her? For that electric shock to paralyze her? To trigger the bombing?" He was yelling now. "She didn't know, Caesar! Neither of us knew anything except that we were trying to keep each other alive!"

Looks were exchanged all throughout the room. I felt terribly for them both. I could see the lines of stress in Cato's eyes. He might have been treated rather well in the Capitol, but that didn't mean that he wasn't being constantly spoken to and interrogated. He didn't know the truth and he wouldn't until he got here. Caesar placed his hand on Cato's chest in a gesture that was both self-protective and conciliatory. Cato was still a very large man and was easily capable of killing Caesar without a weapon.

"Okay, Cato, I believe you."

"Okay."

There must have been Peacekeepers or something in the room. I could see Caesar looking over his shoulder and give an almost imperceptible shake of his head. Taking a deep breath, Cato withdrew from Caesar, pulling back his hands, running them through his hair, mussing his carefully styled blonde wave. He slumped back in his chair a moment later, obviously distraught. Caesar waited a moment, studying Cato carefully, probably wondering what was safe to say at this point.

"What about Aspen's Mentor, Haymitch Abernathy?"

Cato's face hardened. "I don't know what Haymitch knew."

"Could he have been part of the conspiracy?" Caesar asked.

"He never mentioned it," Cato said.

Caesar pressed on. "What does your heart tell you?"

"That I shouldn't have trusted him. That's all," Cato said.

But some part of him should have been happy about everything. Haymitch had promised to keep me safe. He had lived up to his promise. I hadn't seen Haymitch since I attacked him on the hovercraft, leaving long claw marks down his face. Still not something that I felt guilty for. In fact, the whole thing made me want to laugh. Because he deserved it. For everything that he had done and everything that he had lied about. I knew that it had been bad for him here. Not that it hadn't been bad for everyone.

District 13 strictly forbid any production or consumption of intoxicating beverages, and even the rubbing alcohol in the hospital was kept under lock and key. That made me laugh when they had told me that. A lot. Everyone had thought that I was finally losing it. But I wasn't losing it. It was the first time that I had thought that something was mildly amusing. He was just as miserable here as I was. Finally, Haymitch was being forced into sobriety, with no secret stashes or home-brewed concoctions to ease his transition.

They had gotten him in seclusion until he was totally dried out, as he was not deemed fit for public display. I had seen him go through a withdrawal once, so I could only imagine how awful it was to completely detox. It was bad enough during my slow withdrawal from Morphling. It must have been excruciating, but I had lost all my sympathy for Haymitch when I realized how he had deceived us. I hoped that he was watching the Capitol broadcast now, so he could see that Cato had cast him off as well.

Caesar patted Cato's shoulder. "We can stop now if you want."

"Was there more to discuss?" Cato asked wryly.

"I was going to ask your thoughts on the war, but if you're too upset..." Caesar began.

"Oh, I'm not too upset to answer that."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, absolutely."

"Thank you," Caesar said.

Cato took a deep breath and then looked straight into the camera. "I want everyone watching - whether you're on the Capitol or the rebel side - to stop for just a moment and think about what this war could mean. For human beings. We almost went extinct fighting one another before. Now our numbers are even fewer. Our conditions more tenuous. Is this really what we want to do? Kill ourselves off completely? In the hopes that - what? Some decent species will inherit the smoking remains of the earth?"

"I don't really... I'm not sure I'm following..." Caesar trailed off.

"We can't fight one another, Caesar. There won't be enough of us left to keep going. If everybody doesn't lay down their weapons - and I mean, as in very soon - it's all over, anyway," Cato explained.

"So... you're calling for a cease-fire?" Caesar asked.

"Yes. I'm calling for a cease-fire," Cato said tiredly. "Now why don't we ask the guards to take me back to my quarters so I can build another hundred card houses?"

Caesar swallowed an awkward lump in his throat and turned to the camera. "All right. I think that wraps it up. So back to our regularly scheduled programming," he said.

My jaws had set together. As the camera faded I tried to walk closer, desperate to keep the image of Cato in front of me. But it didn't work. Even standing right up against the screen, it didn't stop him from leaving. Caesar and Cato shook hands as it faded out. I made a strangled kind of noise in the back of my throat. I didn't care what he was saying. I needed to see him again. I needed to see more of him. I needed to constantly see him until he was back with me, to make sure he was okay.

But the image was gone. There was nothing that I could do for him right now and no way for me to tell that he was going to be left alone. It didn't matter. We had to do something. Anything. Saving him would come soon enough. But for now came something even harder than saving him. Now came the damage control. Because, as wonderful as it had been to see that he was alive and well, I now realized that he had done something very dangerous.

Music played them out, and then there was a woman reading a list of expected shortages in the Capitol. It was almost funny to hear what they had shortages of. Things that I had never had before I had won the Games. But things that they were so used to having at their disposal. Fresh fruit, solar batteries, and soap. All because the Districts were refusing to supply them. I watched her with uncharacteristic absorption, because I knew that everyone would be waiting for my reaction to the interview.

But there was no way that I could process it all so quickly - the joy of seeing Cato alive and unharmed, his defense of my innocence in collaborating with the rebels, and his undeniable complicity with the Capitol now that he ha called for a cease-fire. Oh, he made it sound as if he were condemning both sides in the war. But at this point, with only minor victories for the rebels, a cease-fire could only result in a return to our previous status. Or worse.

Actually, I knew that it would be much worse. Because now there would be two unsuccessful rebellions. What would happen? We would just keep rebelling, one District destroyed in each one, until only the Capitol remained? Cato was right about one thing. There weren't many of us left. Behind me, I could hear the accusations against Cato building. The words traitor, liar, and enemy bounced off the walls. Since I could neither join in the rebels' outrage nor counter it, I decided the best thing to do was clear out.

Before I could move I started to hear the shouts that were coming from the dining room. Of course. It was dinnertime. Everyone else would have heard the interview on the monitors. It had been played everywhere. Even in the Districts. Everyone would have heard what he had said. Cato would be an enemy of the rebellion soon enough, if he wasn't already. I just knew that I had to leave. I couldn't speak to anyone, and they would all want to know what I was thinking.

"He's one of them," one of the citizens in the dining room called.

"I can't believe he's doing this," another said.

"Traitor!"

More shouts followed. "He's not one of us!"

"This is treason!"

"You're a puppet!"

"Hang him!"

"Traitor!"

It was getting worse and worse by the second. They weren't thinking as rationally as I was. I knew what the Capitol could do to someone. I had lived through it. More than once. But they didn't understand. They thought that the Games were the culmination of their cruelty. They had no idea that it was just the beginning. They had no idea that what Cato was saying was for a specific reason. He didn't believe in a cease-fire. As I reached the door, Coin's voice rose above the others.

"You have not been dismissed, Soldier Antaeus."

"I'll be dismissing myself today, thank you," I called back.

"Soldier Antaeus," Coin warned.

I whipped around, silencing everyone in the room. "I've just found out that my husband, who you left in that arena to die, is still alive. I just need a few minutes to process everything," I snarled.

It put an end to the discussion. One of Coin's men laid a hand on my arm. I didn't even bother to look at who it was. It wasn't an aggressive move, really, but after the arena, I reacted defensively to any unfamiliar touch. I jerked my arm free and took off running down the halls. Behind me, there was the sound of a scuffle, but I didn't stop. My mind did a quick inventory of my odd little hiding places, and I wound up in the supply closet, curled up against a crate of chalk.

"You're alive," I whispered.

For once, my worst fear hadn't been confirmed. For once, I was getting exactly what I wanted. Almost. Slowly I pressed my palms against my cheeks, feeling the smile that was so wide it must have looked like a grimace. But it wasn't. It was a hysterical smile, one that only someone who was shocked beyond belief could make. Cato was alive. And a traitor. But at the moment, I didn't care. Not what he said, or who he says it for, only that he was still capable of speech.

A thought entered my mind as I laid back against the wall and laughed. He wasn't in our meadow yet. For some reason, that was all that I could think about. He wasn't with Leah just yet. But I genuinely believed that Peeta and Rue and my own parents and Cinna were watching over her. In the meantime, Cato was still alive and fighting. Not fighting, but he couldn't. It would make it worse for him. I didn't want him to fight. That was my job. His was to be there for me. He was going to come home to me.

District 12 was gone. It was burned to the ground and there was no way that it was coming back. So many of my friends and family members were dead. Lost to the world forever. But my real home, the one that I had found so unexpectedly, and didn't even want in the first place, was still here. Not with me, but that would change. I knew exactly how to change it. My home... It was still here. I just had to go and get it back. And I would. No matter the cost.

Cato's P.O.V.

All of Cato Hadley's life, he had never wanted to die. Not when he had made mistakes at the Academy. Those had only made him want to train even harder. Not when he had volunteered to go into the Games the first time. He had wanted to win, of course. Not even when he had met Aspen. He had wanted them both to live. Not at the end of the Games. He had just wanted to save them. Not even when the Quarter Quell had been announced. He had wanted to save her, but he hadn't genuinely wanted to die.

Things were different now. Death would have been something that he welcomed. A peace. A finality. Something that Aspen had once said... What was it? There's a finality in death. It's peaceful. Yes. It would have been very peaceful. Very pleasant. No one to hurt him ever again. He wanted to be dead. For the first time in twenty years, he wished more than anything else that he was dead. Because being alive was worse than anything else right now.

Nothing helped. They weren't giving him medicine to fight off the pain. That was bad enough. The pain was bad enough. He had tried fighting desperately. But nothing ever worked. Fighting only made things worse. They would beat him, practically to death. There was no chance to escape. Only death. That would be his only way to escape. But obviously death wasn't going to come to him easily. Because they were keeping him just healthy enough to stay alive.

It was obvious enough that no one else wanted to be alive either. The people who were near him, at least. He could hear the strangled screams of people. People whom he didn't know. He had a feeling that they must have been Avoxes. That would have explained those horrible noises that he was hearing. In the next room over was someone that he did know. He recognized her screams. It was Johanna. He could hear her screams echoing all throughout the night. She must have been hearing his, too.

There was only one thought that kept him alive. Otherwise he would have tried to do anything in his power to kill himself. But there was the thought of her nagging at the back of his mind. He wasn't sure whether President Snow was lying about Aspen being alive or not. But if she was alive, he had to help her. He had to keep her safe. He was willing to do anything, endure anything, to keep her safe. Because he loved her. And he always would.

It was the thought of being back with her, wherever she was, that was keeping him alive. The knowledge that he had to get back to her. They could still be together. There had to be a way for him to get out of here and get back to her. He would find out where they were keeping her or wherever they were hiding her. He could manage. After all, they had managed for so long. They needed each other. They had learned that a long time ago. She was the love of his life. He would find a way to get back to her.

Her face was all that he pictured whenever things got too unbearable. Which was quite frequently. Because just days after arriving in the Capitol, not long after that interview that he had made with Caesar Flickerman, the true horrors had started. The torture had begun and it hadn't once stopped. Not even while he was asleep. The torture had been going on for weeks now. Was it week? Months? Year? He couldn't quite be sure.

First it had started with the physical. Just three days after his interview with Caesar, men in masks had walked in and brought him out of his padded room, kicking and screaming. He had tried to fight them back but it hadn't worked. They had dragged him into the same room that he had now been in for weeks. He thought that it had been weeks, at least. They had strapped him down to the same table that he was sitting on right now. He had watched as the doctors had walked around him.

For a moment he had thought that it was just a physical or something of the likes that they would be doing. But it wasn't that. Instead they had placed pieces of metal on hot coals; that was when he knew. He knew that they really were going to torture him. The guards had stripped him of his clothes a moment later. He had tried so desperately to fight against the bindings and the doctors but it hadn't worked. They had merely taken the pieces of metal and placed them down against Cato's naked body.

One had gone straight across his throat, burning into his vocal chords. More had gone over his chest and stomach. Thighs and feet and hands. Everywhere, with the exception of his face. In case they needed him in front of a camera. Not long after that, they had taken a few chains from the walls and hung him there. The handcuffs had kept him firmly locked in his place. He couldn't move. Not from already being weak and not from the pain that was radiating from the fire.

Not long afterwards, without his body even getting a chance to recover from the burns, he had been subjected to a whipping. Just the way that Aspen once had. It happened over and over and over again. Down his entire back, over his torso and stomach, and against his legs. Cutting almost down to the bone from the strength of the impacts. It happened until his entire body was torn open and raw. They had only stopped long enough to close and treat the wounds to keep him healthy enough to survive.

The moment that the wounds had sealed, they had released him from the restraints. He had been so weak that he had instantly collapsed to the ground. But that hadn't stopped them from coming in. Peacekeepers. Hoards of them. They had come and beaten him with their fists, brass knuckles, and gloves with spikes on them. Harder than he had ever been hit. Already too weak to be able to fight back. So he had just laid there and taken it. Waiting for it to end. He was sure that they had broken a few bones.

Those were just some of the first ways that they had tried to hurt him. After that, things had only gotten worse. The beatings had just changed after that. They would use either their hands or fabric or some type of tougher material to wrap around his throat and tighten. More and more and more until he couldn't breathe. They would only stop when he was sure that he couldn't take it anymore and he was going to die. It would then take hours for him to be able to breathe normally again.

But that didn't mean that they would wait for him to recover. They would just make things even worse. They had a habit of taking heavy metal blocks and placing them down on his chest. They would get heavier and heavier until he was sure that he was about to die. They would bruise his chest so badly that he was sure that the bruises would never go away. But they wouldn't let him die. Not until they were good and ready. So the blocks would only remain on him for so long.

Other times they would take knives of all sizes, some large and some small, and run them over his body. It reminded him of the way that he had once seen Clove try to do to Aspen. They would sometimes just make small slits in his body. Other times they would run them over his veins, practically bleeding him dry, like an animal, before stitching him up and waiting. Sometimes they would just give him small stab wounds, twisting the knife, cutting into the muscle.

He would be shocked if he would ever be able to walk again. Even stand. There were the times that they would strap him down and peel off his fingernails and toenails. One by one. One for each time that he gave them an answer that they didn't like. Or they would try to drown him; shoving him underneath the water and holding him there as he fought for breath, only bringing him back up once he was about to die. He would lean over and throw the water up, feeling that familiar burn deep in his lungs.

Recently they had brought him back to the table, strapping him down again, and placing electrical simulators against his body. More questions. Some he knew the answer to, many that he didn't. Every time that they got an answer that they didn't like, they would send a shock that he was sure would stop his heart. At first it was just like touching a doorknob on an icy winter day. By the end they were even worse than the one that had hit him in the arena.

Then there were the more mental forms of torture that they had gone through. Sleep deprivation was the worst. Every time that he would start to drift off, they would hit or stab him, waking him up. He was sure that he didn't sleep more than half an hour at a time now. Or they would play deafening music for hours on end. They were barely feeding him. The food that they did give him was enough that a dog would deny. The water was dirty and likely somewhat poisonous.

The worst that they had done to him was the pain simulators. Pads of all sizes were placed down along his body to simulate different kinds of pain. Despite the fact that they were just shocks that hit him, they were excruciating. In every single way. The pain was always something different. Sometimes it felt like knives were stabbing him or he was being shot or his skin was being torn off in chunks. Even better were the moments that it felt like his intestines were being slowly ripped out.

It never left more of a mark than a red spot from being burned, but it was the worst kind of pain. From time to time he could feel something happen. It was something that was being pumped into his body. More than likely a sedative. But it was heavier. It felt almost like liquid lead was being pumped into his body. It also gave him strange hallucinations. Or maybe that was from the lack of food. It didn't matter. He couldn't fight back against the bindings. He was too weak anyways.

The only time that he didn't feel the sedative was when they were questioning him. It was never President Snow or Caesar Flickerman. It was always one of the doctors. They had hooked him up to all kinds of different machines to see whether or not he was telling the truth. But it always said that he was. So instead they simply used him as a punching bag, probably to vent their frustration. It only added to the fuzziness in his head that was worsening with each passing day.

Today it seemed that they were playing at something different. He was strapped down to the metal table that he had become so accustomed to. There was no way for him to move, more than simply arching his back slightly. A screen lowered in front of him and he groaned. He didn't want to have to hear or see whatever it was that they wanted to show him. Especially not if it was what was happening to the other prisoners. He just wanted to try and leave. He wanted to go back to her.

The screen faded in and showed a deep red room. Somewhere in the Capitol, more than likely. That was when he saw her. Aspen. Her name slipped out of his mouth, barely audible. For a moment he thought that she was here. But it was a recording. It was from the night of their engagement. He recognized her in the red and white dress from that night. Cato smiled at the sight of her. She looked beautiful. It must have been from the night that she was asked to see Seneca Crane.

Just as Cato had come to that conclusion, the figures on the screen started to move. He saw Aspen glance off to the side as Seneca Crane came into the room. The two exchanged niceties as he walked towards her and offered her a drink, which she graciously accepted. Cato watched the screen curiously. He didn't know much about what had happened during their meetings. The two of them were standing very close together. Far closer than Cato was comfortable with.

"You look absolutely gorgeous," Seneca said, his fingers tracing the neckline to the dress.

Cato squirmed slightly. Why wasn't she pushing him away? "Thank you," she said sweetly.

The two of them laughed. Cato found himself wishing that he could look away, but being unable to do that. Instead Seneca grabbed her arms and turned her around. The breath caught in Cato's throat as he caught her zipper to the dress in between his fingers and pulled it down. She immediately allowed it to drop to the floor and pool around her. Sensing where this was going, Cato began jerking against the binds. She wouldn't have done that. She loved him. Not Crane.

His head was being held down by another one of the straps. He was unable to look anywhere but at the screen, as much as he wanted to look anywhere else. Or smash the screen to bits. He knew for a fact that he was the only man that she had ever been with. She had told him that and it had been obvious enough. He knew that she loved him. Desperate to think about anything else, he thought back on the first time that the two of them had been together. That night, actually.

She was embarrassed. He could tell. She had caught her breath and now she looked like she wanted to bury her head in the sand. She turned over to him and pressed her head into his chest, blushing softly as he pulled the covers over her. His chest was rumbling with laughter. Not at her. She had done nothing wrong. It was just cute how bashful she was about it. Something that he had never experienced. He had never been with someone like her. She whined softly and dug her head down a little bit further into his shoulder.

"Stop laughing," she barked, her voice muffled.

Cato grinned and pulled her to roll over and face him. Her face was a little red. "I'm not laughing. Not at you. It's okay. You didn't do anything wrong," he comforted her, running his hands over her arm.

"I just laid there the whole time," she said.

"That doesn't make it bad."

"But you've been with... I don't know. At least, a number of girls. They had to have been better than me. Right?"

A strange pang shot through him. In a way, this had been his first time, too. Because he had never attached emotion to it before. Not the way that he just had. "No. No one was ever better than you. No one will ever be better than you. I wish there had never been anyone but you," he said honestly.

Her face became a little redder. "But... I still didn't do anything," she mumbled.

"You'll get better. It'll get better."

"It wasn't bad. I just didn't do anything."

"That's how it goes the first time around. It takes some time to get used to it. But this was wonderful, Aspen. Are you okay?" he asked, hoping that he hadn't hurt her.

For the first time, she smiled. "I'm fine. Better than fine, actually," she said.

"You did everything right. It was perfect."

"Good. Thanks for not laughing. Even though you did laugh a little bit."

"Because you're bright red. You're embarrassed and it's cute," he teased, grabbing the bottom of her chin lovingly. "But I'll never laugh at you for it. You might be a little sore in the morning, though."

"Oh, I'm used to it by now. Being sore in the morning, I mean."

"Are you okay?" he repeated.

"Of course. I'm with you. I'm happy. And I love you."

"I love you, too. Now and always. Go to bed. You're safe."

"I know," she said, tucking herself into his chest.

The night was slightly fuzzy now. It had always been such a clear memory. Why was he having almost a hard time remembering seeing her that night? As they had fallen asleep together... It didn't matter. He knew that their night together was the truth. Not this. It had to be a lie. He knew that it was. The scene that was on the monitor was from hours before he had slept with her. And she had bled when they had been together. It had to be a lie... But still... It looked so real...

"Do you think that he actually believes that you love him?" Crane asked, pressing a kiss against her throat.

"Of course he does. He's a fool," Aspen said, laughing.

"There's only one man that you belong to," Crane growled.

"You think that I don't know that? You're the one that I love. I failed to kill him in the arena." Cato wrestled against the binds. She loved him. She had saved him. "But I won't keep failing. It will work, my love. I promise," Aspen whispered.

"Good. Come here," Crane said.

"With pleasure."

Her voice... It didn't even sound like hers. It was too teasing. A little too happy. It just wasn't hers. It wasn't her. He didn't know what they had done to the video, but it wasn't her. It couldn't have been. Cato fought back against the bounds as hard as he could as Aspen and Crane began to do something that he knew that she had only ever done with him. It had to be a lie. She would have never done that. They were doing something to the video. She had only ever kissed one other man. Gale. That was it.

But he couldn't look away. He was forced to watch as the doctors shocked him, keeping his eyes open. There was no other option. He had to watch it. She place her hands on the front of his jacket and easily slid open the first two buttons. Like she had done it a thousand times before. Which she hadn't... She hadn't... Only with him. He knew that. Crane watched her closely the entire time as she opened the front of the jacket and gently pushed the piece of fabric from his body. They both smiled at each other.

She tilted herself up onto her toes to give him a kiss as the jacket slid off of his shoulders and to the floor. A pain worse than any he had felt while being in the Capitol shot through Cato as Crane grabbed her waist and brought her against him. She let out a soft giggle that Cato had heard so many times before as she started to slowly untuck the shirt from his pants. Her hands gently worked at the buttons as she undid them. It wasn't long before Crane grabbed her hair and pulled her back in for a lingering kiss.

She didn't fight back against him. She just smiled and wrapped her arms over his shoulders. Crane stepped back and allowed the shirt to fall off of his frame. She pulled back only long enough to smile at him before Crane pulled her back in for another heated kiss. Crane slipped the belt off of his pants and tossed it off to the side. He kicked off his shoes and motioned for her to do the same. She did so and took another step backwards. Cato grunted in intense mental pain.

Slowly she turned back as he placed a hand on her lower back, right where the scars from the wolf mutt had once been. The wolf that he had set after her. His hands traveled from her waist up to the middle of her back, right where the bra strap was. Cato fought back against the bindings painfully as she laughed softly. Just a second later he unhooked it. She playfully held it to her chest for a moment before Crane reached around and gently pulled it from her body, placing a small bite on her shoulder.

As Cato himself had done so many times before... Crane turned her back and gently put a hand on her chest, brushing over the skin. "Lovely," he said.

"Thank you. It's all yours," she said, stepping into him.

"Has he touched you?" Seneca asked, obviously referring to Cato.

"Not like this. And his touch will be nothing. Not compared to yours," she said.

Crane grabbed the back of her head and brought her into a lingering kiss. Crane gently walked them backwards towards the bed and separated the kiss. Then he turned her back away from himself. His hands went around her front, trailed down her body, and finally hit her at the hips. Right above where the band of her underwear was. Cato grunted in horror as Crane brushed the hair off of her shoulders and moved it in front of her chest. A second later he pressed a kiss to the back of her neck.

Just as he himself had done so many times to her. The way that he knew would make her shiver. Just as she was right now. Crane reached around her and grabbed her chin. He turned her head back to give him a kiss as his hands gently wandered down from her chin, to her throat, to her chest, to her stomach, to her waist, to her hips again. No... She hadn't done that... She wasn't about to do that. She hated Crane. That time he grabbed the band of the underwear that she was wearing.

Get off of my wife... He tried to force the words out of his throat, but it felt like his words were lumped in his throat. Crane released her head and gently pushed her to lean over the bed. Even he had never done that to her before. He had always wanted her to look at him. He wanted to see her. Look her in the eyes. As he slid them down her legs, she turned back to him and smiled. Once Crane had them down around her ankles, he turned her back to him and pulled her to step out of them.

"What a gorgeous creature you are," Crane said.

"Show me how gorgeous I am," she purred.

In a voice that even Cato had never heard. She would always laugh or edge in a teasing note. Never like that. Like the other girls from District 2... Crane grabbed Aspen's hands and she willingly placed them at his waist. She slowly took the button on his pants in between her fingers and popped it open, sliding the zipper down, and stepping back for him to remove his pants. He did so and gently threw them to the side. His underwear was the only thing that was now separating them.

Cato's stomach twisted into knots as he watched the screen. They weren't about to do that. They couldn't. She had only done that with him. Crane put an arm around her back and met her lips again. He brought a hand up to push her backwards. She lost her footing and they hit the bed as they collapsed onto it. Crane fell over her and pressed a lingering kiss against her throat. Just the way that he always did. Crane kissed the crook in between her neck and throat and dropped his hands to push her legs apart.

It was like watching the two of them together, back in the Capitol before the Games. But he could tell that it wasn't really Aspen. Her voice was too teasing and and cold. It wasn't her. He had never heard her like that before. Not even when he had been with her. Because they had always been loving. He just had to keep watching her. Watch her do something that was literally worse than all of the other torture that he had been through. Because that was his wife with a man that had tried to kill her.

He didn't understand how this was happening. He didn't understand when this had happened. It couldn't have happened. That was the only answer. Cato was forced to remain where he was, watching them as they wrapped around each other, just the way that she had been with him so many times before. Cato continuously jerked against the bonds, peeling off more skin and making himself bleed, trying so desperately not to watch. She didn't do that. There was no possible way that she could have done that.

But the cameras never stopped rolling. Nothing ever changed. He just kept watching. It was like they knew that he was watching them and they were deliberately elongating the process. So he just had to watch them together for what felt like days. His eyes were pried open by the doctors after he kept trying to squeeze them shut and the electrical shocks stopped working. So he just watched, his heart breaking more and more with each passing second, as they talked about how much she genuinely hated Cato.

Finally the screen changed. For a long time it had just been Aspen and Crane laying in bed together, talking and laughing, just the way that she had done with him so many times before. He hated having to see her like that with someone. Because he knew that it wasn't the truth. But there was something lingering in the back of his mind... The way that they were looking at each other... The way that she was laughing... It was the way that he had thought that she had only been with him.

Seeing the screen return to its blank state, Cato leaned back and let out a desperate breath. He had been praying for a long time that it would end. But his vision was fading in and out from having his eyes open so long. He spotted the screen fading back in and he let out a strangled breath. Because he was being brought back to his first time in the arena. But it wasn't a horrible memory. In some ways, it was. But in other ways, it was one of the happiest memories that he had.

He was in the cave with Aspen after the firestorm and the fight with the boy from District 9. It had been a horrible moment, the second that he had seen her laying in the grass with the blood all around her. But then he had realized that it wasn't her that was dead. She was just badly injured. That was the day he'd realized how much he loved her. This was something that would finally bring a happy memory. Cato was leaning over her leg and stitching up her thigh.

She had just woken up and they were chatting back and forth. He remembered her weak voice from remembering what she had done to the boy. They were teasing each other as he told her about the fact that she had pissed off the fireballs. Suddenly there was a terrible pain stabbing him in the pelvis. One of the pain simulators. It was just around the bottom of his intestines, right above somewhere very precious to him. Cato grunted in pain as Aspen smiled on screen and pressed a kiss against his lips.

"Smile for the cameras, love," Aspen whispered, leaning over him.

That was when he realized... She was stabbing him. Leaning over him to keep the knife out of sight of the cameras. "What are you doing?" Cato asked breathlessly. On the screen? A memory? What was it?

"Smile," Aspen prodded.

"Aspen..." Cato whispered desperately.

"Keep going," Aspen whispered, referring to their kiss. Cato was stunned. "Keep going or I keep moving it."

"Stop. What - What?" Cato breathed.

She hadn't done that... They had been together and she had been grateful for him saving her. "Don't be an idiot, Cato. People like you killed my parents. So I'm going to kill you. Smile for me, Cato. I do like your smile," she whispered in his ear.

Smile for her? What was she doing? He was in love with her. He knew that she was in love with him. Even back then, they had been completely in love. Already. She had never really hurt him. He had hurt her a number of times in the Games, something that had always bothered him, and he had been trying to make up to her since then. That was when he had realized that she was his redeeming quality. And she had kissed him. They had been happily together. She hadn't hurt him. She never did.

The scene on the screen shifted again. Or was it in his head? He still couldn't figure it out. Things were getting clearer, but these clear memories weren't memories that made sense. Now the screen was showing the two of them in the cave together towards the end of the Games. When they had their little bonding session. It brought back stirring memories and Cato growled deep in his throat. He was trying so desperately to thrash around to beat back the altered images of her. Because she hadn't done that...

There was no way that she could have done any of that. They were in love. Always had been. On the screen Aspen rolled him underneath her as she sat on his waist. Had she done that? Cato could barely remember. She bit down on his lip so roughly that he began to bleed. Even in the white room Cato could feel the pain. He hissed and tried to look away. But an electrical shock forced him to look straight back at her. Or whoever that was. Because it wasn't her...

Just seconds later he felt her nails piercing through the skin on his chest and stomach, spotting the little bloody prints on the screen. He was used to her piercing nails. He had felt them clawing down his back before. But that had always been in pleasure. Not this... pain. It was even more painful because it was her. He was moaning in pain - both on the screen and in real life - as her hands dug further and further underneath his skin. On the screen he was moaning into her mouth, which looked pleasurable.

The scene shifted again. Cato groaned, trying so desperately hard to look away. But he couldn't. Because they just kept forcing him to watch in horror at the woman who couldn't have really been Aspen. That time they were fighting the mutts off during the Death Match. He remembered it well, feeling her shaking against him. Aspen was panicked on the screen, standing back-to-back with him, before the scene shifted again. Slightly fuzzy. Aspen was now standing over him as her grin widened.

That wasn't real. They had run off together. Right? He watched as her blonde hair suddenly became a little fuzzier and puffed out around her throat. Suddenly she began to transform. Her nose elongated and her teeth became larger and sharper. She was transforming into the lion mutt right before his eyes. Cato screamed loudly on the screen and in real life as she bit down and tore the flesh straight out of his arm. Was she a mutt? No... He had been with her for a year. He would have noticed.

But it was becoming harder and harder to remember who she really was. Because he kept having to watch all of this. Cato was screaming bloody murder for hours. Because it never stopped. In every way she just continuously attempted to kill him. In the Games and after them. In all sorts of different ways. Laughing at him for thinking that she was actually in love with him. Calling him a fool and not in a joking manner. Staying with him physically, something even more torturous than the physical harming.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the images stopped appearing. Cato's head dropped back against the table as he stopped fighting. They were gone. And now tears were building in his eyes. What were they doing to him? He couldn't put two and two together. He knew that there was no way that she had done that. She wouldn't have done that. Because they were in love. She didn't do that... But where were his memories of her? His real memories? Like that night on the roof before the Games. That had happened. Hadn't it?

Suddenly he spotted the shadow of someone standing near him. He tried to jump away from the figure. Likely a doctor. But he was still bound to the table. That didn't matter. He wanted those doctors as far away as possible. Because they would only manage to continue hurting him. What the hell was happening? It was one of the doctors. What did they want now? But then he realized that it wasn't a doctor at all. It was Aspen... His wife... Looking happy and healthy. No lasting injuries from the arena.

"Hi," she chirped sweetly.

She was wearing a simple shirt and pair of jeans. She looked just as she had before the Quell. "Aspen..." Cato breathed out.

Was she really here? How? Why? She had to leave. "Long time no see," Aspen teased.

"You need to leave. They can't find you. Please leave," Cato begged.

No matter what he had just seen her do, that was still his wife. The love of his life. He needed her to be safe and that was far away from him. He could handle what they were doing to him. No matter how bad things became. The only thing that he couldn't tolerate was having her hurt. He couldn't listen to them do the same things to her that they had to him. He had seen her hurt enough and it was worse each time. That was the one thing that he couldn't handle.

"It's okay. They won't hurt me," she reassured him.

"They'll kill you. Aspen... Leave. Please," Cato begged.

"Hush. It's okay, Cato. I just wanted to see you," Aspen chirped.

Where had she even come from? That didn't matter. "What are they doing to me? What have they done to you?" Cato asked, remembering seeing her shifting forms into the wolf mutt that had torn out a chunk of his arm.

"They haven't done anything, Cato. They've just been showing you who I am," Aspen said, wiping off some sweat-soaked hair from his forehead. "You know who I am. Don't you?"

"Stop. Stop, please," Cato said, attempting to pull away from her.

"Just relax," Aspen whispered.

Cato started to thrash around as Aspen hooked her arms around the edge of the metal table. A second later she jumped up onto it. Cato cringed as she leaned up over him and sat over his waist. Cato cringed, remembering that the last time that he had seen her do just that, she had tried to kill him. She gently leaned down and pressed herself into him before leaning down and pressed a lingering kiss against his mouth. Cato tried to push her off. Something was wrong. That wasn't Aspen. She wasn't like this.

"Stop," Cato said, against her mouth.

Aspen's lips turned upwards into a smile. "You never fought back against me before," she breathed.

"This isn't you," Cato said.

She leaned up just long enough to undo her top few buttons. "Don't you want me?" Aspen asked, her voice holding a more teasing note than he had ever heard before.

"Always," Cato said, meaning every word. "But this isn't you. Get off of me. Get off!"

But she wouldn't. No matter how hard he tried to fight her off, she wouldn't. He couldn't have her like this right now. Not when he was in this state. Not when she was. Not when he couldn't figure out what was real and what wasn't. He couldn't have her when he couldn't even remember if she was in love with him. If she was really a mutt. She couldn't have been... He still remembered their agreement to come to the meadow together one day. That woman was so different than the one on top of him right now.

The Aspen that he knew would have snapped the restrains and taken him away from the Capitol without a second word. She wouldn't have even asked him if he was okay. She just would have moved. This Aspen was continuing to kiss him, trying so hard to get his resolve to crumble. Her hands started winding down his body to continue touching him. Her hands eventually wrapped around the paper cover that he was wearing to pry it off. Then her hands went to his bare skin to grip roughly at him.

Then her hands began to pull at his skin. Not just gently, like he was so used to, maybe leaving some red marks that disappeared by the morning. This time it was so rough that she started to rip it off in pieces. He tilted his head back, breaking off her kiss, before opened his mouth in a horrible scream. Something that didn't even sound human. Worse than the sounds that the Avoxes made. He was pleading with her to get off of him, to remember who he was, but she didn't release him and didn't move.

He was trying so hard to get her to loosen up her grip. She was the love of his life. She was what meant everything in the world to him. She was the one person that he was willing to give up everything for. She was his wife. So what was happening? Why was she with Seneca Crane? Why was she hurting him? Why was she doing all of this? What were they doing to him? This wasn't Aspen. It couldn't have been Aspen. But why was this the only way that he could remember her?

Eventually Cato lifted his head up, as Aspen was now simply sitting over him, to try and plead with her again. He could feel the blood coating him and the limp pieces of flesh hanging off of his skin. His vision was fuzzy. Maybe from blood loss? Or was it that strange sedative that they had been pumping through his veins? He couldn't figure it out. The only thing that he knew was that he desperately wanted to be back in the arena with her. Something that he had never thought that he would want.

But he missed that day in the jungle. Just before everything had gone to hell. The last time that he could remember her being... herself. But the moment that he lifted his head up, he realized that she wasn't at all who he thought that she was. She had changed appearances. Her eyes were glowing green. Her teeth were a few inches long and razor sharp. Her skin had been tinged a grayish-white and she had horrible scars all over her. And her sword-like nails were cutting him into pieces.

That was when it all started to make sense. Just her very appearance. Her chest was rumbling with cruel laughter. Laughter that didn't even sound like her. Because it wasn't her. It never had been. They had been doing something to him. The entire time. It wasn't Aspen who had been injured by the wolf mutt. It was him. And she had been the mutt who had torn him to pieces. Was she even a real person, or just something that the Capitol had made up during the first Games?

"What are you?" Cato asked breathlessly.

"I'm your wife, Cato," Aspen said, her voice deep and deadly.

"No... No... You aren't her," Cato said, breathing shallowly.

If Aspen ever had been real, this wasn't her. "Yes, I am. This is who I have always been. How you were stupid enough to buy that I ever loved you, I'll never know," she teased.

Just as she had since the screen had been placed in front of him. Something about her had changed. Because this wasn't really her. Maybe she never really had been Aspen Antaeus. Maybe all of his memories of her were fake. He couldn't figure it out. Aspen leaned forward and Cato let out a piercing scream. Because, just a moment later, her horrible teeth dug into his throat and tore it out. And that was only the beginning of the never-ending torture that he suffered at her hand.

Off on the other side of the room were the doctors. The doctors who had been working at Cato Hadley for a number of weeks. They had been watching him all day. They looked very interested to see what was happening. And they were. Because it had been a long time since the Capitol had used this procedure. They were watching Cato, as he was strapped to the table, screaming over pain that was only being simulated. They were watching his reactions, what he was seeing, on a monitor.

Hours after they had begun the procedure, President Snow entered the room. None of the other people in the room said anything. They simply allowed the President to stand and watch what was happening. He walked towards the edge of the one-way mirror and glanced in on the still screaming Cato. His voice was becoming hoarse as his sobs were now mostly dry. But he was still desperately thrashing against the restraints that were keeping him against the table.

"How is he?" President Snow finally asked.

"The venom is working. He is strong," the doctor said, earning an irritated glance from President Snow. "He still retains many unaltered memories of her. But he'll eventually lose those, too."

President Snow hummed. It would be a while before he was completely lost to her. "Good. His first interview with Caesar was just released to the Districts. Now that we know for a fact that Miss Antaeus is alive," President Snow said, remembering seeing her wandering District 12 on the security footage. "Soon enough we'll have to allow her to see what has become of her husband."

"He hasn't completely forgotten her," the doctor said.

"But he will?" President Snow asked.

"Soon enough. A few weeks from now and he'll have no memories of Aspen Antaeus that we haven't given him," the doctor said.

The corners of President Snow's mouth tilted upwards. "Good. Keep working at him," he ordered.

"Yes, sir."

It wouldn't be much longer. President Snow knew that. The games had just begun between himself and Miss Antaeus. And they were already destined to end soon enough. But only when the time was right. President Snow walked out of the room, feeling thrilled at the fact that Aspen Antaeus would be dead soon enough. No more empty promises. Because Cato Hadley, her own husband, would cause the ultimate betrayal. He would kill her himself.

Aspen's P.O.V.

Slowly I rocked back and forth against the wall. There was something almost hysterical in the way that I was feeling right now. Did I know what it was? No. I wished I did though. But this was a feeling that I had never experienced before. It wasn't happiness. It wasn't even elation. No. It was so much more than that. I had a feeling that I would never really know what it was. But it was wonderful. Better than I had experienced in a long time. Because Cato was alive. I knew for a fact that he was really alive.

My hands clasped over my mouth. I didn't want anyone to know where I was right now. I just wanted to be alone for a while. To think about what I knew now was the truth. A somewhat hysterical laugh escaped my mouth. It didn't stop for a long time. It just kept coming. Laugh after laugh after laugh. Because he was alive. He was actually still breathing. I couldn't want to have him touch me again. To sleep in the same bed with me again. I missed not having him sleep with me.

Think about what you know, Aspen. Play the game.

My name is Aspen Hadley. My husband's name is Cato Hadley. We were in the Seventy-Fourth Hunger Games. We escaped together. We were also in the Seventy-Fifth Hunger Games. I was rescued by District 13. Cato was taken by the Capitol. I thought that he was dead. But he is alive and well. And I will get him back.

Things had been very tense not having him around. I hadn't been sleeping much lately. Not unless I was in the Morphling haze. Which I hadn't been for a while, having wanted to see the ruins of District 12. I had to see it and that meant to get off of it. But that made the nightmares worse. He was always one of the few people that could bring me down from my episodes without needing any type of medicine or sedation. He was the only person that could manage within seconds.

He was always one of the people who could help me get back to myself. Because it wasn't just the Games. Everything that had happened to me had been affecting me in so many ways. Because it was constantly looking over my shoulder and having difficulty trusting people. For so many more reasons than just the fact that they hadn't saved Cato. It was everything. It wasn't just something that I could walk away from. But Cato made it so much easier.

It also helped that he was one of the few people that could see one of my episodes coming from a mile away. He knew when the triggers were about to come. He knew his own and sometimes I got the feeling that he knew mine even better than he knew his own. The smell of the flowers. The looks that I would get from people. That unsettled feeling. Those horrible dreams. How people would speak to me. He knew that, no matter how hard I tried, I was unable to turn it off. And he had never cared.

He was one of the few people that understood that my nightmares when I was asleep were constantly bleeding into my daily life. At times after just getting up I was unable to differentiate whether I was awake or asleep. Cato had always understood that, because he experienced it, too. They felt so real, I even experienced the physical pain in them. That was the worst part. Even hearing someone call my name, sometimes I would scream and start rocking back and forth. Cato had always understood to softly call my name.

That was the worst part. That no one understood that it wasn't just at night. The nightmares were horrible, but it was the fact that they didn't even fade during the waking hours. It was a bunch of nightmares during the day. I would lose my grip on where I was, particularly being in District 13, and I would get lost in the memory. It was like I wasn't even where I actually was. It felt so real, and the next thing I would wake up and have no idea how I got to where I was.

Having whatever it was that affected me was horrible. Because it only added to my feelings of loneliness. Because, for me, it was like being apart from everyone else, finding fault with everyone that I met and walking a constant tightrope between fight or flight. The overwhelming feeling of guilt was hard to live with, and no one could convince me otherwise. It was truly terrible. But there was always hope and always a light that never went out. And Cato had always been my light.

There wasn't even a vague chance in hell that they would stop when Cato came back. I knew that much. I wasn't fool enough to think that the nightmares would ever go away. In sleep or during my waking hours. They would likely never end. Not for the rest of my life. But I had prepared myself for that a long time ago. I had known that well before setting foot in the arena the first time around. But at least it would get a little better with him being back with me.

How much time had passed? I wasn't sure. Probably an extremely long time. All I knew was that there were only a number of people who knew this hiding spot. And I also knew that it was time for me to get moving. To get ready for tomorrow. Because that would be when my plan would be enacted. So finally I managed to get to my feet and go back to the apartment, knowing that no one would bother me for a while. They would let me process what I had just seen.

They didn't want me to think about what had just happened. But I couldn't just not think about it. I had to think about how to fix this. And it started with thinking about what I wanted to do about Cato. How to save him and how to end this war. Despite wanting to be alone for a while, the door did eventually open. I glanced up to tell my family that I was okay, more than okay, when I realized that it wasn't them. It was Cato's family. All of them. They must have been waiting for me to come here.

"Hey," I greeted.

The smile on Alana's face was almost heartbreaking. "Hello, sweetheart. How are you?" Alana asked, walking over and taking a seat on my cot.

"I think the better question is, how are you? Your son is alive," I commented.

"So is your husband," Damien pointed out.

It was enough to make me smile again. "I'm better than I have been in a long time. He's alive. He's out there," I said breathlessly. "We just have to get up and get him back. We can do it. I know that we can."

"Of course. We're going to get him back," Damien said happily. His smile faded a moment later though. "There's only one problem."

"What's that?" I asked.

There was no problem. Cato was alive. Problem solved. "Coin isn't happy with what Cato's said in the interview. She believes that he might have done a lot of damage," Damien explained.

In a way she was right. Cato had very likely done some damage tonight. Because he had just tried to convince everyone to end the war. But it would depend on the Districts. Those in the outer-lying Districts would likely understand that he was being forced into saying it. They would be able to tell by the way that he reacted to the questions about me. The Capitol people weren't fighting anyways. It was the inner Districts, who we already had such a weak hold on, who would pose the problem.

"Anyone with a brain knows that Snow is telling him to say it. He's in danger there. Everyone knows that. He's only saying what he has to say to survive," I explained.

"Everyone knows that. Unfortunately, Cato is the kind of person who can put on a good front for the cameras. The people have always liked him. And his request sounds very reasonable. The resistance is already shaky with some of the Districts still wanting to quell the fight. This might make things worse," Damien said."So we do something to keep the flame burning," I said determinedly.

"That's good," Damien said.

They all knew what they wanted me to do. And I knew that I was going to do it. "He looked healthy," Alana commented.

"They've actually been taking care of him. But they won't forever. Eventually they'll try another tactic to hurt me. We have to go and get him," I said, knowing that it was only so long before they hurt him.

"There's no guarantee that they will," Alana said sadly.

She genuinely believed that they weren't going to get him. Maybe they wouldn't. But they would. I was determined for that. "Oh, no. I know the perfect way to get him back," I said brightly.

"We're very glad to hear that," Alana said, her voice cracking.

I leaned over and grabbed her hands. "I'll get him back. I swear that I will," I said.

"We never doubted that," Carrie said.

"Sometimes I did. I thought that he was dead already," I said, not feeling quite as guilty about saying it now that I knew that he was alive. "But he's alive. I told them in my last meeting with them that if they could show me proof that he was alive, I would fight. They've given it to me. Likely for that exact reason."

"So...?" Carrie trailed off, waiting for me to say it.

"Time to get off my ass," I said.

"We knew it," Carrie said brightly.

She jumped forward and gave me a crushing hug. I laughed as I felt her begin shaking. She was going to get her brother back. They were getting their son back. I was getting my husband back. We were all going to get something back. Because we all loved each other. Because we all loved him. Because each one of us was willing to do whatever it took to get him back. I noticed that even Aidan looked happy with me. Finally I was doing something right for him.

"How are you all?" I finally asked.

"Better than we've been in a long time," Alana said.

"Yes. I understand that," I said.

"I can't believe that he's still alive," Skye breathed.

Glancing over to her, I noticed that she was crying. Or she had been, at least. "I'm so sorry, Skye. I know that you two have been friends since you were children," I said. She gave me a slow nod. "I'm sorry for everything that I've put you through. Him through."

The entire Hadley family had been through far too much since I had stumbled into their lives. "If you asked him, he would tell you that it would all be worth it. Just for a year with you," Skye said, making my eyes water slightly. "We love you, Aspen. You're family now. His and ours. It's all worth it for him."

"I just wish that he had never had to go through all of that," I mumbled.

"Of course. We wish that, too. But it'll be okay. We're going to get him back and everything is going to go back to normal," Skye said brightly, happier than I had heard her in a long time.

"Once the war is over, at least," Julie interrupted.

"Yeah. Once the war is over. We're going to get up and fight and fix everything," I said.

Julie grinned and came to sit on my other side. "Strong words for someone who couldn't even bring herself to get out of bed a few weeks ago," she said, in a way that wasn't harsh.

She was just as strong-willed as I was. I was used to the way that she spoke. "Well I have a reason to fight now. Not just for him. For what Snow has done all of these years. For what he did to my home. Leah..." I trailed off.

The entire family glanced down at the ground. "You're tough, Aspen. That's one of the reasons that Cato always loved you. We know that you can do it. We believe in you," Julie said.

"Thanks, Julie," I said.

"Get him back, alright?" Julie asked, gripping my arm.

"Whatever it takes," I said truthfully.

Even if it meant my own life, I would get Cato back. "You're going to get him back?" Aidan asked.

It was the first time that he had spoken to me in a while, when it didn't look like he was angry with me. "I'll go if they'll let me. Whenever they let me," I said determinedly. Coin wouldn't like me going, but I didn't care. I had to save my husband. "But I'm going to get him back, one way or another."

"Good. I want him back. I miss him," Aidan said.

"I know. I miss him, too," I said.

"So you're really going to fight?" Aidan asked.

"I'm really going to fight. Do whatever it is that they need me to do. But I have some demands first. Ones that will guarantee that everyone survives this. Except Snow, of course," I said, as a last minute thought.

Alana's voice distracted me from Aidan. "This is..."

She trailed off and I glanced over to see what she was looking at. She was sitting at the edge of my bed that had my bedside table and everything that my family had managed to bring. The pictures, the medicine, and the paper. Now Alana and the rest of the family was looking over them. Alana smiled at the picture of Cato and I at the first party with our first kiss before grabbing something. The pearl... She had the pearl in her hands as she slowly turned it over. It was one of the few things I got to keep.

"Yeah. From the arena. One of the few things that I managed to keep," I whispered.

"You kept it," Alana said, holding the pearl almost possessively.

She clearly missed Cato just as much as I did. Just in a different way. "He gave it to me. Just in case it was one of the few things that I would ever get from him, I had to keep it," I said weakly.

"We remember that night," Alana muttered.

Marley was sitting in Carrie's arms. She glanced at the pearl and smiled. "Pretty," Marley chirped.

"D - Do you want it?" I stuttered.

Thankfully the rest of the family sensed that I wasn't even close to being ready to give up the pearl. Julie stepped in and took the pearl. "No, Aspen. Keep it. Until he's back," Julie said softly.

"Soon. He's going to be back soon," Carrie consoled, putting her hand on my shoulder.

"I know," I said happily.

"You know that this means that we're going to fight?" Dean asked.

Now that caught me off guard. "What?" I asked.

"All of us," Dean said, motioning around to the rest of the family. "We're going to start fighting. The condition was that we got to go out into the field when the Mockingjay did. That was when Thirteen would really join the fight."

"Really?" I asked, surprised.

"Really. We'll be right out there with you," Dean said.

But something didn't sit quite right with me. The entire family couldn't be fighting in the war. It was too dangerous. Alana was strong but she was older by now. And apparently she had never been that marvelous with weapons. Damien was older too, he was slowing down these days. Carrie had her daughter to take care of. Marley and Aidan were too young to fight. That left Dean, Skye, and Julie, who I wasn't sure if they were ready to fight.

"Who?" I asked carefully.

"Me," Dean said.

"Us, too," Skye added.

"Both of you?" I asked, referring to her and Julie.

"Yes. We've been training since we've been here. When it's time to get out on the front lines, we're all going to be there," Julie said, motioning to the three of them.

As much as I loved that they were willing to fight, I didn't want them to get hurt. "It's - It's not safe," I stuttered.

"We know that it's not safe. And that's what happens in war. We're okay, Aspen. We know what we're risking. But this is about so much more than just you and Cato. This is about the Capitol and all of the horrible things that they've done. If we have to give our lives to see their reign end, we will," Dean said determinedly.

"Do me a favor? Enough people have died. Don't follow in their footsteps," I said.

Cato had already lost his sister. How would he manage to cope with even more of his family dead? "Not unless we have to. But if we need to, we will," Skye said.

It was the Academy training in her. "We believe in this. We believe in you," Julie said.

"And so does Cato. No matter what he's saying, he wants this fight because of what they've done to you. To both of you," Carrie said.

"Everyone here is ready for this fight. So is Cato," Damien said.

"You can do it, Aspen. We know that you can," Alana said.

It seemed that more and more people were believing in me all the time. "Thank you," I whispered.

"We don't say anything that we don't believe," Damien said.

"You know, I always thought that you didn't like me," I admitted.

It was a question that had always bothered me. I couldn't tell if Damien liked me or not. "We weren't sure what to think about you at first. But you've become family, Aspen. Cato loves you. Still loves you. Always will love you. We love you. We love Cato. We're with you. We always will be," Damien said faithfully.

So it turned out that he did like me. They all did. "And I love you all, too. It took a long time for me to realize that you're all family. You are my family. And I will protect you. Just the way that I will protect Cato," I said fiercely.

They all grinned. "You look happy," Carrie said.

"For the first time in a long time, I am happy," I said.

"We are, too," Alana said.

"We're going to be together again. All of us," Dean said.

"Yeah," I whispered.

The day that he got back here would be one of the happiest days of my entire life. At least, the day that he got to see District 13 for the first time. I knew that he would be extremely confused and probably a little nervous, but he would figure it out. We would figure the entire thing out. We would figure everything out. Together. That was the only thing that mattered. It was just that the two of us would be together again. That was the important thing.

We sat together and chatted back and forth for a long time before the door opened. I glanced over to see my family but again it wasn't my family. This time it was someone else even more surprising. This time it was Seneca Crane who came in. I was definitely surprised to see him. I hadn't seen him in a long time when it was just the two of us. In fact, the last time that we had been completely alone together was the night that I arrived in the Capitol for the Quell.

"Seneca," I greeted.

"Might I have a word?" Seneca asked, glancing at the rest of the Hadley family.

"Of course," I said, giving them a guilty look.

"We'll leave you two be," Alana said, taking the hint.

The entire family turned to leave. They were halfway to the door when I called them back. "Hang on! In the morning. I'm making my demands in the morning," I explained.

I could see the relief in their faces. "Good. That's good. We're glad to hear that," Damien said.

"Get a good night's sleep. We're going to have some long days ahead of us," Carrie advised.

"I think this might be the first night in a long time that I get a decent night's sleep," I said honestly.

Which was perfect. Maybe I would dream of Cato tonight. A nice dream. Where he was alive and healthy. Something that I hadn't dreamed about in a long time. The entire Hadley family smiled and hugged me as they said goodnight. Tomorrow I would finally be the Mockingjay and they would be able to fight alongside me. It was the first time in a long time that I couldn't stop smiling. Because he was alive. I was going to get my husband back. The doors slid shut and I was left alone with Seneca.

He took a seat on my bed, maintaining a good bit of distance. "I haven't seen you smile like that in a long time," Seneca finally said, breaking the silence.

"Let's face it. I haven't had a reason to smile like this in a long time," I said.

"That is true," Seneca said.

"Still like my smile, huh?"

"I've always liked your smile." Seneca and I stared at each other blankly for a moment before he reached over and grabbed my hand. For once I didn't pull away. "I genuinely am sorry, Aspen. For everything," Seneca muttered.

"I know that, Seneca. Honestly, I do know that," I responded.

"You do?" Seneca asked, surprised.

"Yes. And I know that you have a potential to be a good man. It was just the way that you were raised," I said honestly.

It was something that I honestly believed about most of the Capitol people. "In the back of my mind, I always knew that it was the wrong thing to do. I always knew that it wasn't fair to kill little children. But I knew that everyone worked to be a Gamemaker. And a Head Gamemaker. So that was what my goal was. To become the Head Gamemaker," Seneca explained.

So he did have some semblance of a conscience. Even when he was younger. "And you got what you wanted," I said slowly.

"After a while I became numb to it. The deaths and the crying. Everything. It became a game. As shameful as that is," Seneca admitted, his face turning a little red. He was bashful about it. "The Capitol doesn't look at them like children. They look at them like -"

"Toys," I interrupted. "I know."

"I have no way to justify what I've done. What they do. But they aren't all evil," Seneca said.

"They have the capability to change. I know that much."

"You do?"

"Yes."

"Why is that?"

It was a good question. How did I know that the Capitol people could change? Because every one of them that I knew loved the Games. But they had learned to love Cato and I more than the Games. Clio had told me that and I had seen it. They couldn't stand me being in the Games because they had thought that I had an unborn baby with me. We had some Capitol rebels here themselves. People who knew that the Capitol was wrong. Plutarch was here. But there was one reason above all others.

"Because you changed," I finally answered.

"Yes. I did," Seneca said slowly.

"Why did you change?" I asked curiously.

"I met you," Seneca said quickly. Exactly the same reason that Cato had changed. Apparently I had something in me that made people change. "I knew right off of the bat that something was different. I lost my mother right around the time that your first Games started. It was much harder than losing my father. Then I learned who you were. Someone who had lost both her mother and father to the Games. Someone who lost her parents before she could even remember them.

"And I thought about what a nightmare that would have been. I couldn't have imagined growing up without my parents at my sides. I remembered how much I loved them, even when we would fight. I always loved them. But there was nothing that I could do for you. The Games were on. They were mine. And so were you. The more I watched you, the more that I liked you. The more you interested me. You kept talking and kept doing things that showed me just what a horrible thing that the Games really were.

"Even throwing the knife at me fascinated me. Because I realized just how angry you were with me. I realized just how much I hated what I was doing to you. Because you were heartbreaking. Seeing how upset you were about everything. Seeing how much you were hurt by these Games. I didn't want to send anything after you. But I had to. Because Snow was already suspicious of me. He had spoken to me a number of times about you. He hated you and I knew that I needed to make it look like I did, too.

"So I had to make things harder for you during the Games. It was the only way to keep myself safe. To keep Snow from doing something to you himself. But I sent things that I genuinely believed that you could beat. I tried to keep you alive. And you stayed alive. But I remember seeing the horrible things that kept affecting you. I remember seeing you with Rue. That was when I knew that I couldn't keep hurting you. I wanted you alive. I wanted to help you."

My heart was racing quickly. "That was when Cato genuinely fell in love with me," I whispered.

"I think that he was in love with you long before that," Seneca said.

"Maybe. Maybe not," I said, shrugging. "But he's in love with me now."

"Yes. He is," Seneca said.

"And you, Seneca?" I asked.

"What about me?"

Now came another question that I needed to know the answer to. "You and I have been so strange for so long. We're not really friends. We're barely allies. But I trust you," I admitted, as much as it bothered me. "For whatever reason, even after everything that we have done to each other, I trust you."

"Good. I want you to trust me. We are friends, Aspen. Believe it or not. I feel guilty for so many things that I have done to you. For that night. I am truly sorry," Seneca said slowly.

"Are you?" I asked disbelievingly.

"Yes. It's why I'm here now. For you," Seneca said.

"Not for all of this?" I asked bitterly.

"For that, too. I've never really liked President Snow before. It just took you to show me what a true monster he was," Seneca explained.

"If I wasn't around, you would be dead," I commented.

"My life would have never been threatened in the first place," Seneca said, somewhere in between bitter and amused.

"Don't bet on that. Katniss and I aren't that different," I explained.

"Perhaps. I am genuinely sorry about that night. I never intend to touch you again," Seneca said, shifting another inch or so away from me.

"Why?" I asked curiously.

There was a time that he had wanted me so much that he was willing to do anything to be with me. "Because I saw how much I hurt you. Because I saw how much you genuinely do love Cato," Seneca said. His words didn't quite process. "You would be willing to do something like that for him."

"I would do anything for him," I said quickly.

"I believe that. You go to the end of the world for those you love," Seneca said.

"That is true."

"It's a good, albeit dangerous, personality trait to have."

We sat in silence for a moment before I turned to him. "What am I to you, Seneca?" I finally asked.

Seneca glanced back at me, the two of us locking eyes, neither one speaking. "What do you want me to be?" he finally managed to spit out.

What did I want him to be? Not a Gamemaker? Not even an ally. Those weren't real. "A friend. I would like for us to try and be friends. Really be friends. Not whatever we've been for so long," I said.

Seneca smiled weakly. "I would like for us to be friends, too," he said.

"Tell me something about you. Something that a friend would know," I said.

It was a game that I had played with Cato a number of times. "What do friends know?" Seneca asked.

What did I want to know? Nothing about the Games or about the war or about the Capitol. Something simple. Like my game. Start with the simple things and work my way up. "I don't know how old you are," I said.

"I'm thirty-four," Seneca said.

He was older than I had thought he was. "Old man, huh?" I teased. Seneca smiled and laughed softly, with a smile that didn't quite look like the old ones that he had given me. Like at the Training Center before the first Games. "I don't think I've ever heard you genuinely laugh like that. And I've never seen that smile."

"Perhaps you bring out a different side of me," Seneca said.

"Perhaps," I said, smiling bashfully. "Tell me something else."

"I'm allergic to shellfish," Seneca said.

There was another surprising revelation. "Really?" I asked.

"Really."

"I hated the oysters in the arena," I said, giving him a pointed glare. "They were awful. They're slimy and kind of slide down your throat."

"I saw you eating them once in the Capitol. You looked disgusted."

"I was."

"Now you tell me something," Seneca prompted.

"What do you want to know?" I asked.

"What's your favorite color?" Seneca asked.

The same thing that Cato and I had once asked each other. His was blue. "Green," I answered softly.

We smiled at each other as Seneca turned his gaze to the side. His eyes locked onto something that was sitting on the side table. "That was when everyone knew." Seneca was looking at the photograph of Cato and I locked in a kiss after the wildfire. "They knew that you two were really in love," Seneca said.

"That was the kiss that made me know. I knew that I really did love him. No matter how much I tried to deny it. Even though I never really knew love," I muttered the last part.

Seneca reached over and grabbed my hand. A gesture that had once terrified me but now was somewhat comforting. "Don't let Snow think that's the truth. You do know love. From everyone in District 12. From your family. From Cato's. And from a number of other people. Including your parents, believe it or not," Seneca said.

"Have you seen District 12?" I asked suddenly.

"No. Not yet. I'm very sorry about District 12. About your home. I wasn't aware that it would happen," Seneca said.

"But you knew that something would happen."

"I had a feeling. I warned as many people as I could."

"I know. And thank you for that."

A brief silence passed. When Seneca looked back at me, he had a strange look on his face. "The child was officially just a ruse, correct?" Seneca asked.

"Yes. Of course," I said.

"We are friends, Aspen. Correct?" Seneca asked.

"I think so," I said slowly. "Why?"

Of course it was just a ruse about the child. I would have thought that he had been one of the first people who had been told about the fake pregnancy. The two of us sat in another brief silence as I stared at Seneca, wondering what the hell he wanted to say. I didn't understand where that comment had come from. Something about the child... Was he going to ask me if I wanted to have a child? I never had before. Now the question was up in the air. Maybe after the war. Far in the future.

Seneca seemed to be waiting for me to say something. But I couldn't figure anything out. I couldn't figure out what I was supposed to say to his comment. Even a few minutes later we were still sitting together in silence. Clearly I had to make the first move. After a while, the door opened and someone slipped in. I glanced up confusedly. Gale slid into the room and sat down beside me, his nose trickling with blood. He gave Seneca a nasty look.

"I'll be going," Seneca said, taking the hint. "Do you need a medical team?"

"I'm fine. Thanks," Gale said begrudgingly.

He would always hate Seneca for the Games. "I'll leave the two of you be. Goodbye, Aspen. Mr. Hawthorne," Seneca said, getting up and heading to the door.

"See you around, Seneca. Wait," I called back as he made it to the door. "What did you want to say?"

Seneca shook his head. "Another time, perhaps. Tomorrow will be your announcement, I suppose?" Seneca asked.

"Yes. Good guess," I teased.

"Then I'll see you tomorrow," Seneca said.

Once he was gone, I turned over to where Gale was now sitting, looking very peeved about something. "What happened?" I asked, spotting how bad the bloody nose was.

"I got in Boggs's way," Gale answered with a shrug. I used my sleeve to wipe his nose. "Watch it!"

"Quit whining," I snapped.

After everything that I had been through, I wasn't very sensitive to other people's pain when it wasn't life-threatening. But Gale was my best friend so I tried to be gentler. Patting, not wiping. He was still twitching slightly with each touch. I could tell that he was in a lot of pain. He must have gotten hit pretty hard by someone. I knew how that felt. I remembered when Cato had broken my nose. On accident, at least. But it had still hurt. Maybe one day I would pay him back for it.

"Don't be a bitch," Gale snapped.

"Too late. Stop whining," I barked. "It's not broken. You're just sore."

"Damn it," Gale hissed.

"Boggs was in there?" I asked.

"You didn't see him?" Gale asked. I shook my head. "He was right there. He was the one who tried to stop you." He pushed my hand away. "Quit! You'll bleed me to death."

"You're a pain in the ass. I'm trying to help you!" I shouted.

"You're not a healer," Gale said.

"Then I'll collect Prim and get her to give you a hand," I groaned.

"I'm fine. Knock it off," Gale said.

There was no way that I was just going to leave him alone. The blood was very heavy. He wouldn't bleed out but he would definitely start getting light-headed soon enough. He needed to get some food and water in him, and then he needed something to stem the blood. More than I could do. Then he needed to see if it needed to be reset. The trickle by now had turned to a steady stream. So I gave up on the first-aid attempts.

"You fought with Boggs?" I asked.

"No, just blocked the doorway when he tried to follow you. His elbow caught me in the nose," Gale said.

"You didn't have to do that," I said.

"I knew that you needed to be alone for a while. To process everything," Gale explained.

"Thanks for that."

"But apparently you weren't alone," Gale said, scowling at the door.

He still hated Seneca as much as he always had. Maybe even more now. "Cato's family came by first. I had to talk to them. They just found out that their son and brother is still alive," I said quickly, noting the way that Gale started scowling again. "And then Seneca came by to check on me."

"That's nice of him," Gale growled.

Sensing that I should change subjects, I leaned back on the bed and turned to him. "They'll probably punish you," I said.

"Already have." He held up his wrist. I stared at it uncomprehendingly. "Coin took back my communicuff," Gale explained.

I bit my lip, trying to remain serious. But it seemed so ridiculous. "I'm sorry, Soldier Gale Hawthorne," I said.

"Don't be, Soldier Aspen Antaeus." He grinned. So did I. He was one of the few people that could still manage it. "I felt like a jerk walking around with it anyway." We both started laughing. "I think it was quite a demotion."

"Very demeaning. You're just a normal person now. Just like me," I said.

"You're nowhere near normal," Gale said, making me laugh.

That was one of the few good things about Thirteen. Getting Gale back. With the pressure of my marriage and relocating to District 2 between Cato and me gone, we had managed to regain our friendship. He didn't push it any further - try to kiss me or talk about love. Either I had been too sick, or he was willing to give me space, or he had learned where my heart laid, or he knew that it was just too cruel with Cato in the hands of the Capitol. Whatever the case, I had someone to tell my secrets to again.

Of course there was Katniss. But she was very distraught about everything. Gale was stronger than the both of us. "We all saw those letters that you wrote," Gale said eventually, breaking the silence.

My face drained of color. I didn't know that they had read them. "I told you to read them after I was gone," I snapped.

"We knew that there was a good chance that we were going to have to leave after the end of the Games. So we read the letters beforehand," Gale said.

So that meant that he had read what I had told him. About how much I loved him and always would. About my torn heart. That must have been why he had been nicer to me lately. And Prim knew the truth about the wedding. But she also knew that I did love him. Ms. Everdeen... Oh, no... She knew that Cato and I had slept together. At least she hadn't said anything yet. She would eventually. And Katniss, she must have known about Seneca and I being together. Not good.

"Right. Well..." I trailed off awkwardly, spotting Gale's stare. "I'm not taking back what I said in my letter."

"Do you even remember what you wrote to me in the letter?" Gale asked.

"Vaguely," I muttered.

"You said that you weren't sure what you wanted to tell me. That there were lots of things that I wanted to hear you say. You said that you loved me and that you always would," Gale said.

"That's still true," I agreed.

"I know," Gale said, making me scowl at him. "And you said that you meant it every single time that you told me. You said it was the one thing that you had never lied to me about."

"That's also true," I said.

"Apparently I was the person who got you through the arena," Gale continued.

A small smile turned up on the corner of my lips. "I used to hear you speaking to me. I think it was a way of getting over being alone all the time. You were telling me that my traps wouldn't work because I was always so bad at camouflaging them," I said, giggling at the memory.

"Well that's definitely true," Gale said.

We both laughed as Gale looped an arm over my shoulder. "I managed alright, though," I finally muttered.

"Yeah. You did," Gale said.

"As for the rest of the letter?" I asked.

"Do you really want me to say it?" Gale asked.

Did I want to talk about it? No. I was never one for having conversations like that. I didn't like them. "No. But we'll have to talk about it at some point or another," I admitted.

Gale nodded slowly. "Not today. Not the day that you found out that your husband is still alive. You still wear your wedding ring," Gale said. I nodded, glancing down and spotting the shimmering diamond on my right ring finger. "You still have his around the necklace that he gave you."

His locket was sitting right on the bedside table with the ring looped around the chain. "I guess I do," I said. "What about the last part?"

Gale shook his head, breathing out a little laugh. "So you remember that part, at least?" Gale asked.

"Come on, Gale," I prodded.

The one thing that I did want to talk about was Gale and Katniss. They had been growing closer lately. "We'll talk about it later," Gale said, ignoring my wishes.

"Why not now?" I asked.

"You know why, Aspen," Gale said sharply.

Suddenly my teasing comments were gone. I didn't have anything to say back to that. Because I did know why. I knew exactly why. Because Gale needed to know what was happening between the two of us before he would ever finally be able to manage to move on. He would have to know what was going on between Cato and me before he could think about what was happening with Katniss. Because I was always his first choice. For a long time, I had been his only choice.

The thought broke my heart. I had almost forgotten about the way that Gale had thought about me. Because we had gone back to being such good friends. I would always love Cato. Especially now that I knew that he was alive. y husband was back. I didn't need to move on. Gale would never want to. Because Gale would always be standing there with me. No matter what. I kept breaking his heart over and over and over. I likely always would, as much as I genuinely hated the thought.

After a long silence, Gale spoke up again. "You know I saw Katniss's letter, too," he said.

Every thought that had been shooting through my head about Gale and Cato went out the window. My heart had practically stopped at his words. I couldn't believe that he had said that. I couldn't believe that Katniss had showed him. I was going to kill her. The point of the letters was just for their recipient to read them. Gale wasn't just giving me that look because he had been a Gamemaker. It was because he knew everything that had happened between the two of us.

"We're going to have to have a conversation about listening to directions," I said.

"Aspen -"

"Did you see the others?" I asked, thinking of what was in Ms. Everdeen's.

"No," Gale said. "Just the one you wrote Katniss."

A breath of relief escaped me. "Okay," I muttered.

"Just okay?" Gale asked.

"What else do you want me to say, Gale?"

"Are you joking? You're letting him walk around here? After everything that he's done to you?" Gale asked. I shrugged my shoulders. "You're speaking with him in private!"

"Believe it or not, Gale, I was aware that we were speaking in private," I said.

"Aspen," Gale warned.

"I told her not to tell anyone. Because I knew that it would hurt you all."

"It's only the two of us."

"Well I wanted it to only be the one of you."

"Well now I know, too. What are you doing even speaking to him?"

That was a very long explanation and I didn't have much of a good one for it. "Trying to get over it. Trying to accept his apology and realize that he's spent the last few months trying to make it up to me. Gale, you weren't there. You don't understand what's happening," I said, knowing that he wouldn't appreciate my apology.

"He attacked you, Aspen," Gale said.

"He knew what was coming. He was drunk. And he apologized for it. It's fine, Gale. It's over," I tried to insist.

"It's not okay to have him here," Gale warned.

"He's on our side now. I'm still not okay with what he did. I don't think I'll ever be completely okay with what he did," I said quickly. And I wouldn't. But maybe it was time to try and move on. "But it's over. And I genuinely believe that he'll spend the rest of his life trying to make that up to me."

Gale's eyes narrowed. "Then you're even more naive than I thought that you were," he barked.

"Thanks," I snapped.

"He kissed you? Brought you into his bed when you were engaged to Cato?" Gale growled.

"Yes. They don't learn what's right and wrong in the Capitol. There is nothing like that. Everything is right for them. But I believe that people can learn. They can change. They can become what you think that they can be. Obviously Plutarch did, at some point. There are other Capitol refugees here," I explained.

"You think that just because Cato changed, Crane can, too," Gale said.

"Snow threatening his death changed him. Seeing me... the way that I was that night changed him," I said.

He didn't need to know just how close I had been to having that taken from me. None of them did. "Gave him some semblance of a conscience?" Gale asked.

"Funny," I snapped. "He tipped me off that something would be happening that night in the arena. He gave me the tracker that got them to pick me up."

"I already knew that," Gale said.

"I was having a good day. A rare one. Can we just... be?" I asked desperately.

Gale was still one of my best friends. I didn't want to have to keep dealing with this. "I miss that day on the hill. Before the first Games," Gale said dreamily.

"Yeah. I do, too, sometimes," I muttered.

"Sometimes?" Gale asked.

"Gale," I warned.

He knew why I didn't always miss it. "Fine. Fine," Gale conceded.

"Come on, big guy. Wanna be my pillow like you used to?" I teased.

Gale scowled at me but eventually nodded. "What the hell? Sure," he said.

It was enough to make me smile. It had been a long time since he had let me do something like that. Gale leaned back on the bed to lay down. Just the way that we had when we were kids. I pushed myself onto his arm and rested against him. Cato was alive. That thought kept running through my head. He was alive and looking well. And we were going to get him back. It would be easy enough. I was going to be the Mockingjay and come back stronger than ever before.

Just a moment later the door opened. We both glanced up but didn't bother moving from our spots. Katniss had seen us like this a thousand times before. And she normally joined us. Katniss walked in and I raised my head long enough to smile at her. She looked happy to see us like that. I smiled softly as she seated herself next to me. A second later her head was on my stomach. Just the way as we had done a thousand times before. Curled up in bed together, old friends, as always.

"I know you showed him that letter," I told her.

"Oh," Katniss muttered.

"Yeah. Oh," I agreed.

"Aspen -"

"It's not a big deal," I cut her off. "It's no big deal. You did what you did. It's fine. You both saw the letter."

"We should talk about it," Katniss said.

That was the last thing that I wanted to talk about. "No. We can talk some other time about it. Not right now. Alright? I'm not in the mood to talk about it right now. I've had the first good day today that I've had in a long time," I reasoned.

Katniss let out a little breath but nodded anyways. "But we will talk about it," Katniss said determinedly.

"Sure. And next time, do what I say," I barked.

"Alright. Here. Picked this up on the way," Katniss said, tossing a gauze roll to Gale.

"Thanks," Gale said.

Another beat passed as Gale patched himself up. "Who are these people?" I asked.

"They're us. If we'd had nukes instead of a few lumps of coal," Gale answered.

"I like to think Twelve wouldn't have abandoned the rest of the rebels back in the Dark Days," I said.

"That's just because we like to think that everyone in District 12 is stronger," Katniss said.

"We might have. If it was that, surrender, or start a nuclear war. In a way, it's remarkable they survived at all," Gale said.

Maybe it was because I still had the ashes of my own District on my shoes, but for the first time, I gave the people of Thirteen something I had withheld from them: credit. Something that I really didn't want to admit. But they did deserve some credit. For staying alive against all odds. Their early years must have been terrible, huddled in the chambers beneath the ground after their city was bombed to dust. I knew because it was how I felt right now. But I couldn't even linger in the ashes of my District.

Population decimated, no possible ally to turn to for aid. Over the past seventy-five years, they had learned to be self-sufficient, turned their citizens into an army, and built a new society with no help from anyone. They would be even more powerful if that pox epidemic hadn't flattened their birthrate and made them so desperate for a new gene pool and breeders. Maybe they were militaristic, overly programmed, and somewhat lacking in a sense of humor. They were here. And willing to take on the Capitol.

"Still, it took them long enough to show up," I said.

"They could have done something," Katniss growled.

"It wasn't simple. They had to build up a rebel base in the Capitol, get some sort of underground organized in the Districts. Then they needed someone to set the whole thing in motion. They needed you," Gale said.

"They needed Cato, too, but they seem to have forgotten that," I snapped.

Gale's expression darkened. "Cato might have done a lot of damage tonight. Most of the rebels will dismiss what he said immediately, of course. But there are Districts where the resistance is shakier. The cease-fire's clearly President Snow's idea. But it seems so reasonable coming out of Cato's mouth," Gale explained.

"Now there's something that I bet that you never thought that you would say," I said, attempting a joke.

"No. It isn't," Gale said.

I was afraid of Gale's answer, but I asked anyway. "Why do you think he said it?"

"He might have been tortured. Or persuaded. My guess is he made some kind of deal to protect you. He'd put forth the idea of the cease-fire if Snow let him present you as a confused pregnant girl who had no idea what was going on when she was taken prisoner by the rebels. This way, if the Districts lose, there's still a chance of leniency for you. If you play it right." I must have still looked perplexed because Gale delivered the next line very slowly. "Aspen... he's still trying to keep you alive."

Idiot. Of course he is. How could I have thought that he wasn't still playing? "He's still playing the game," I muttered.

"As he always has been. Because he loves you," Katniss said.

"You think they'll keep him healthy?" I asked.

"I think that he doesn't care if they break each one of the bones in his body," Gale said.

"Gale," Katniss snapped.

"He'll do anything to keep you alive," Gale said.

To keep me alive? And then I understood completely. The Games were still on. We had left the arena, but since Cato and I weren't killed, his last wish to preserve my life still stood. His idea was to have me lie low, remain safe and imprisoned, while the war played out. Then neither side would really have cause to kill me. And Cato? If the rebels won, it would be disastrous for him. If the Capitol won, who knew? Maybe we would both be allowed to live - if I played it right - to watch the Games go on...

Images flashed through my mind: the spear piercing Rue's body in the arena, Peeta being torn to pieces by the muttations, Gale hanging senseless from the whipping post, the corpse-littered wasteland of my home. And for what? For what? As my blood turned hot, I remembered other things. My first glimpse of an uprising in District 8. The Victors locked hand in hand the night before the Quarter Quell. And how it was no accident, my shooting that arrow into the force field in the arena.

How badly I wanted it to lodge deep in the heart of my enemy. It would have been so easy. If I could have gotten my hands on an arrow before the Games. I could have gone to Snow the night of my wedding, hidden it under the large skirt, and sent it straight into his eye. I could have saved myself so much trouble. I would have been killed and Cato would have gotten his happy life. Just a second later I sprang up, upsetting a box of a hundred pencils sitting above the bed, sending them scattering around the floor.

"Aspen!" Katniss barked.

"What is it?" Gale asked.

"There can't be a cease-fire," I said determinedly. I leaned down, fumbling as I shoved the sticks of dark gray graphite back into the box. "We can't go back."

"I know," Gale said.

For everything that we had been through, each and every one of us, I couldn't let things go back... Prim being Reaped shot through my head. Rue begging for a volunteer. All of those dead kids. My final stand in the Death Match. My heartbreak at the Quarter Quell. The Victors banding together, giving their own lives, to save Cato and me. Me, mostly. Watching all of those people stand up to fight. Gale swept up a handful of pencils and tapped them on the floor into perfect alignment.

"Whatever reason Cato had for saying those things, he's wrong," I said.

"He's just saying what he has to so that he can stay alive long enough to protect you," Katniss said.

"It doesn't matter. He's wrong. Snow is wrong. He must have forced him," I said determinedly.

Katniss wrapped an arm over my shoulder. "Of course. Everyone knows that he wouldn't do anything to hurt you. And stopping the war would be one surefire way to hurt you," Katniss reasoned.

They were both right. Hurting Cato, stopping the war before it really got underway, and destroying District 12 were all things that President Snow had done to try and hurt me. And he had managed to hurt me. But I didn't care. Because I was going to stand up and end things with him. This war was going to get started and I wasn't going to stop until he was dead and Cato was back here. The stupid sticks wouldn't go in the box and I snapped several in my frustration.

"We know. Give it here. You're breaking them to bits," Gale said.

He pulled the box from my hands and refilled it with swift, concise motions. "He doesn't know what they did to Twelve. He doesn't know what they did to Two. He doesn't know about Leah. If he could have seen her body or what was on the ground -" I started.

"Aspen, I'm not arguing. If I could hit a button and kill every living soul working for the Capitol, I would do it. Without hesitation," Gale said. He slid the last pencil into the box and flipped the lid closed. "The question is, what are you going to do?"

It turned out the question that had been eating away at me had only ever had one possible answer. There was always one answer. The one that I had been bouncing back and forth between for so long. The one answer that I had never been able to truly put together. Because I had been too afraid to say it. Because I had felt too weak. But now I knew the truth. It was strong enough to do it. The whole thing just took Cato's ploy for me to recognize it.

What am I going to do?

If there was one thing that Cato had ever given me, it was the gift of strength. I had always been strong. I knew that much. Surviving starvation in District 12, managing myself all those years without parents, and volunteering for Prim. Living through the Games once and dealing with the aftermath. But Cato had given me true strength. It had just taken me this long to realize it. Because sometimes I had to get knocked down lower than I ever had, just to stand up taller than I ever was.

For so long I had known the one true reason that I was alive. They had made it obvious enough. I had known exactly what I was supposed to do. But I had just been so afraid. I had forgotten my strength. The strength that Cato had once given me. Now that he was back, so was my strength. I took a deep breath. My arms raised slightly - as if recalling the black-and-white wings Cinna gave me the night of the Interviews - then came to rest at my sides. Gale and Katniss were staring at me.

"What I should have done a long time ago. I'm going to be the Mockingjay."

A/N: Here's the newest chapter! I don't see many stories detailing the process of torture in the Capitol, so I've decided to lightly touch on it. I won't have one of his P.O.V.'s in every chapter, but they might appear from time to time. Thanks so much for the follows and favorites! Please, please, please review! Until next time -A

Guest: Yes! Aspen has finally managed to get herself out of her pity party and she's ready to start fighting back! Hope you're enjoying the story :)